#i have classes with people who have already published research papers with professors in the states | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atlafan · 3 years

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a/n: okay, here it is! a lot of you really wanted me to post this on here, SO THAT MEANS I’M GONNA SEE LOTS OF FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS, RIGHT?! Can’t wait to know what you think of this one! [Patreon] [Buy Me A Coffee] (not proofread) I was inspired by a lot of different things with this, it’s sort of like Scarlet Witch meets The Dragon Prince meets ATLA??? Also, Harry is a major himbo in this, and we love that for him.

Warnings: angst, fluff, flirting, magical fighting, smut (rim job)

Words: 22K

Pairing: Harry x OC (Amber Hale)

Song Inspo: High For This - The Weeknd

“What do you do with a BA in English?” The age-old question that was coined from the hit musical, Avenue Q. Harry thought he had the answer to that question, and it was go to graduate school to get his MEd in English. He’d get his K-12 certification, not that he wanted to work in a K-12 school system. No, he wanted to be a literary professor. He wanted to be able to have high level discussions about the classics, post-modernism, film adaptations, and more. He loved reading, ever since he was a little kid there was a book in his hands. There was just something about getting lost in a world that someone else created for a bit, and then analyzing the shit out of it.

He had already done a semester of student-teaching as a senior, he didn’t love it. He took a gap year trying to find a publishing company to work at. He thought he could maybe be an editor. Harry soon realized he didn’t like being told what to read, and the pay was pretty low. He even tried working at a bookstore for a bit. It wasn’t as much fun as he thought. So, at the age of twenty-four, he enrolled in a master’s program to get his Med in English. At least this time when he’d have to student-teach, he’d be doing it at a collegiate level. He knew he’d get stuck teaching a couple of sections of first-year composition, but he had no problem teaching students how to properly construct a paper. There were three classes he needed to take in the fall, all of them being online-asynchronous: Social Behavior in a Diverse Society, Philosophy, Ethics, & Education, and Teacher Action Research.

Since Harry had a semester of teaching under his belt, he was able to get a better paying grant, and wouldn’t have to just TA, he could actually teach. He’d still be subject to observation, but at least he could be trusted. So, he’d be teaching two sections of Composition, and one section of Fiction Workshop, where students would read texts Harry picks out, and discuss them. Fiction was his favorite, so he was really excited to be teaching this particular course.

The university he was attending was on the east coast in the states, a very picturesque college town by the seacoast. Harry loved fall, so he was happy about getting to be immersed in the season. So, he had his courses settled that he had to take, he knew what he was teaching and set up his Canvas pages, the last thing he needed to figure out was a place to live. He had been staying at a motel in the area, but that was starting to get pricey. He looked around online, but there wasn’t much out there. He also didn’t want to get stuck living with a bunch of undergrads that were loud and partied. He asked the other faculty in the English department if they knew of anything, but they didn’t.

Harry decided to go for a walk in the downtown area, and see if there were any ads in some of the shop windows. A lot of the buildings looked to be apartments up top. On his walk, he noticed an interesting looking café. There were other coffee shops in town, and this one looked to be almost deserted. Harry shrugs his shoulders and heads inside. A chime sounds as he walks in, and he sees that it’s almost like a country store. There’re tee shirts, sweatshirts, scarves, gloves, books, knick-knacks, and treats. This seemed like a neat little place, why wouldn’t there be a lot of people here? It was still summer, maybe it was more of a college student hangout?

Even though it was still summer, the place smelled like cinnamon and apples. The fresh smell of coffee wafted through the air as well. From the back comes a woman wearing a green apron over her clothes, dusting her hands off. Harry stops in his tracks as he looks at her. She had these piercing blue eyes that resembled sapphires. Her hair was up in a loose, wavy ponytail, the color being one of those silver/lavender mixes, a contrast to her dark eyebrows. She was a short thing, couldn’t have been a little more than five feet tall. Her nails were painted black, and she had this gorgeous necklace hanging around her neck. She also had various piercings in her ears, and a silver hoop in her left nostril.

“May I help you?” She asks Harry just as a Siberian husky comes trotting out by her side.

“Hi! I’m new to the area, and I was just strolling by and saw your shop…um, do you have iced tea?”

“Yeah.” She nods slowly. “Come over to the counter.” The dog circles around Harry, sniffing at his legs. “Are you okay with dogs?”

“Love ‘em! Boy, girl?”

“She’s a girl, her name is Opal.”

“That’s a lovely name.” Harry smiles, and leans down a bit to let Opal sniff his hand. “She’s a beautiful dog.”

“Thank you. So…you said you wanted an iced tea? Here’s the list of flavors.” She taps a laminated paper that’s taped to the counter.

“Right, yeah, um…what do you recommend?”

She furrows her brows at him for a moment, studying his face.

“I just drink the plain, black tea with a dash of sugar syrup.”

“Then I’ll have that.” He smiles.

She nods, gets a cup to fill with ice, and goes into one of the small fridges where the tea was chilling. She adds the syrup and then the tea, then snaps a sippy-cup style lid on top.

“Here you go. That’ll be $3.99.”

Harry sets a five-dollar-bill on the counter.

“Keep the change.”

“Thanks.” She puts the rest in the tip jar.

“What’s your name? You’re not wearing a tag or anything.” He says before taking a sip of the tea.

“It’s Amber.”

“Amber! Oh, is that why you’re wearing one?” He points to her necklace.

“Well, I was given this when I was a little girl.” She says as she looks down at it, then back up to him.

“Do you mind if I peruse around the store a bit? Although, I shouldn’t be buying any trinkets until I actually find a place to put them.”

“What do you mean?” She blinks at him. Who was this man and why was he being so friendly with her?

“I’m new to the area, and I’ve been having a tough time finding a place to live. I’m at one of the nearby hotels, but I can’t stay there much longer. You wouldn’t happen to know of any vacant apartments, would you?”

“Sure she does!” Another woman comes out from the back. “Amber owns the whole building, which means she owns the apartments upstairs.”

“Penny.” Amber seethes, and then looks at Harry. “I’m sorry, I don’t rent to college students.”

“I’m a graduate student, and I’m also going to be teaching. M’not loud, and I keep things tidy. I’d be happy to fill out an application if you like.” He smiles. “Plus, I could be a walking advertisement for the place because this tea is incredible.”

“The shop does well for itself.” Amber mutters.

“Oh, just give the boy an application.” Penny says.

“Fine.” Amber sighs, and ducks down to grab an application. She hands it to Harry reluctantly. “My email is on the bottom. Just scan it and send it to me that way, and I’ll get back to you.”

“I’ll make sure of it.” Penny smiles. “Parking’s included.” Amber glares at her. “Well, I’m just going to head back to the back, take stock of things.”

“You do that.” Amber says, shaking her head, and then looking at Harry. “She’s a good worker, but she’s nosey as shit. So, you’re a grad student?”

“Mhm, and I’m twenty-four, so I’m not fresh out of undergrad either. I’m going for my MEd in English, and I’ll be teaching a few classes as well. I’m excited to get started.”

“English, huh?”

“Mhm.” Harry smiles.

“You must really like to read.”

“I do.” He nods. “Do you?”

“No, I hate it actually.”

“But…there are so many books here.”

“Yeah, the majority of them are cook books, or informational books about the area. I’ve never really cared for reading. It’s a waste of time, if I’m being honest.”

“A…a waste of time?” He blinks at her.

“If I’m reading, it’s so I can learn something.”

“But even if it’s fiction, you can still learn so many life lessons.”

“Maybe worry about teaching that to your students instead of me. I’m a lost cause.” She smirks. “I need to finish up what I was doing in the back, so if you still want to peruse…”

“No, uh, I’ll get out of hair. I’ll email this over to you later tonight. It was nice meeting you.” He looks down at Opal who was eyeing him carefully. “And it was nice meeting you too, gorgeous girl.” He smiles, and leaves the shop.

Amber takes a deep breath and heads into the back where Penny is. She glares at her, and it makes Penny laugh.

“You could use a new tenant.” Penny says to her.

“I don’t need you finding one for me.”

“He’s cute.”

“He’s annoying.” Amber deadpans. “Practically told me his whole life story!”

“He clearly felt comfortable around you.”

“So? He’s an English professor or something, how pretentious.” She makes a disgusted noise.

“Just give his application a fair shot, would you?”

“I will, but only because if I don’t I know you’ll keep bugging me about it.”

Harry couldn’t believe that he just heard with his own two ears that reading was a waste of time. He knew there were people that didn’t care for it in the way that he did, but Amber said she hated it. He couldn’t fret over it too much, though, because either way he still needed an apartment, and she had a vacancy open. So, when he got back to the hotel later that day, he worked on his application, and emailed it over to Amber. The name of shop was cute: Opal’s Café & Convenience. He found it endearing that she named it after her dog. Amber seemed rough around the edges, but maybe Harry could be the one to smooth her out a bit.

Much to Amber’s dismay, Harry was the perfect applicant. He didn’t have any pets, he wouldn’t be throwing wild parties, his credit checked out, and his references were solid. Amber would be stupid not to let him take one of her apartments. She emailed him back and let him know it was his if he wanted it, and when he could move in. In the email, she attached a list of rules he’d need to follow when being one of her tenants. She lived in the building as well, and she valued her privacy. She explained that she would often make a lot of tea in her own apartment, so Harry might catch a whiff once in a while.

Harry was so thrilled he’d have an actual place to live just in time for school starting that he agreed to all of her conditions. So what if he’d smell tea once in a while? There were far worse smells out there. Harry packed everything into his car, and headed over to the building as soon as he could. He found his parking spot, and started moving things up. His apartment was on the floor beneath Amber’s. She had the entire top floor to herself. Harry was surprised that he’d have the whole second floor to himself. It was a spacious one bedroom that he was grateful for. He was drenched with sweat by the time he got the last of things upstairs. The first thing on his list was to install his air conditioner. He tore his shirt off, kept the front door open for some airflow, and got to work putting the air conditioner in the main window of the living room. It was the space he’d be in most, so he wanted it cooler in there. He could always leave his bedroom door open or just use a fan at night.

Amber was heading down the stairs with Opal, and noticed Harry’s door was open. She was about to get to work opening the shop. Her eyes widen when she sees that he’s shirtless, littered with tattoos. He just happens to turn and see her standing in the doorway.

“Oh, hi!” He smiles, and walks over to the door, bending a bit to pet Opal.

“Everything going okay so far?” Amber asks.

“Mhm.” Harry nods, crossing his arms. “Just got the A/C installed, so it’ll be nice and cool soon. Thanks again for letting me rent from you.”

“Yeah, well…it’s money.” She shrugs. “Look, uh, there’s a basement here too, don’t go down there. It’s locked anyways, but I keep all of the supplies for the shop in the basement, so…it’s off limits.”

“Oh, no worries. I’ve got plenty of space up here. I don’t have a bike or anything, so I don’t think I’d even need the extra storage.”

“Good.” She nods. “Well, I’m headed down to open up. See you around.” She snaps her fingers to get Opal’s attention, and they go downstairs. Once they’re down in the shop, Amber notices Opal looking at her. “Don’t even start, I already know you’re on Penny’s side.” She sighs.

“He is awful cute.” Opal says. She and Amber could communicate telepathically.

“I have more important things to focus on, we have more important things to focus on.” Amber crouches down to her dog. “You realize we can’t just chat freely with him around.”

“It’s the same with the college kids. He might think it’s cute that you talk to your dog.”

“I don’t really care what he thinks.” Amber rolls her eyes and stands up. “I have to get the coffee and tea going. Could you check the shelves and see what herbal teas we’re low on?”

Opal nods, and heads over to the aisles to take stock of everything. Amber gets the coffee and tea brewing so it’s fresh for the customers. Penny comes in an hour or so later to make some fresh biscotti while Amber was working on making more herbal tea. Amber’s herbal teas were quite popular with the college students. Were they laced with a little magic? Maybe, but it was all for a good cause. She had special anti-stress and anxiety teas, sleepy time teas, wake-up teas, and some teas that could put someone in the mood, but she didn’t advertise those often. She didn’t want anyone taking advantage of anyone else, she only sold it to people who knew to ask for it, and they had to sign a waiver.

Certain coffees had some magic involved too. There were coffees that were ground with something to help people focus for long period of time, coffees for all-nighters, and more. She lived in a pretty liberal area where people were super into different types of “wellness”. There were so many people that would rather try drinking an herbal tea, than take a pill, so she used that to her advantage. No one ever really questioned why her products worked so well.

Amber had been living pretty peacefully the last few years, but as of late she felt this odd disturbance. Something bad happened in the spring. Something came after Opal. Amber almost lost her best friend in the world. She had been trying to track down whatever the fuck it was, but the trail had run cold. She took the time to train and work on some of her spells. Opal explained that Amber should be able to just think and cast instead of having to say the spell out loud. She had gotten a lot better at it, and she had gotten a lot better at throwing a punch. Whatever the fuck that thing was, she’d be ready for it. Amber also didn’t want anything bad happening to the college students. They were so vulnerable as it was, but a lot of them would walk around intoxicated at night, making them the perfect target. She felt protective over her college town, she wasn’t going to let anything happen to anyone.

That’s why she had a chip on her shoulder when it came to Harry. She didn’t exactly trust the new guy, especially since he came right to her shop, and asked about a place to live. It was rather peculiar, but she thought it would be better to keep a close eye on him, so she accepted his application. No one else seemed too bothered by him, and she didn’t exactly appreciate the glances Penny and Opal gave her when it came to him. Yes, he was cute, but Amber had a hardened heart that couldn’t be so easily sueded by a handsome man with a kind a smile.

Harry couldn’t believe how packed the shop was once the college kids were back in town. Amber did really well for herself. He liked living above the shop a lot. Sometimes he’d buy a coffee, find a place to sit, and get some grading done, or do some homework of his own. Sometimes he’d catch Amber looking at him, a deep furrow in her dark brows. He’d give her a soft smile, and she’d just look away. Opal liked sitting by his feet. Any time he’d sit down for a bit to get some work done, there she was. He loved dogs, so he was happy she seemed to take a liking to him.

“Hey, Professor Styles!” A girl in one of his composition classes, Zoey, says to him.

“Oh, uh…it’s Zoey, right?” He looks up from his laptop.

“Mhm.” She nods. “You like to hang out here?”

“I live upstairs, actually. I like to come down here for a change of scenery. Do you come here a lot?”

“Oh, definitely. My friends and I come here almost every day. Amber has some of the best tea and coffee I’ve ever had. I was just stopping in to stock up on her sleepy time tea.”

“Sleepy time tea?”

“Yeah! Puts me right to sleep after having a small cup. You should try it.”

“Zoey, come on!” One of her friends says.

“I better go, it was nice seeing you!”

Harry waves to Zoey as she leaves to go down one of the aisles. He gets back to his work. He was doing some research for his philosophy class. He had to look into the different philosophies of various educators from a list his professor gave him. Without even realizing it, he skipped dinner, and ended up being the last person in the shop.

“Glad to see you’re making the most out of having free Wi-Fi.” Amber scoffs as she crosses her arms. “We’re closed.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” Harry scrambles to pack up his things. “Time must have gotten away from me.” He looks down at his watch and sees that it’s nearly 9PM. “Fuck, I need to get to sleep. Hey, could I buy some of that sleepy time tea you sell? One of my students was telling me about it earlier.”

“Sure, you can buy a pound for fifteen dollars.” She grabs a bag of it and they both go up to the counter so she can ring him up.

“Must be good stuff if college kids can afford that.” He hands her exact change.

“It lasts a while.” She purses her lips briefly. “You may have some…vivid dreams. It’s really, um, potent, especially if it’s your first time drinking it.”

“Do you make it yourself?”

“I do.” She nods. “I promise it’s all FDA approved.” She smirks.

“I trust you, no worries.” He chuckles. “Do you need any help cleaning up?”

“No, I’m all set. Penny’s in the back still, I’ve got all the help I need.”

“Alright, well, have a good night.” He smiles.

“You too.” She watches as he heads out the door in the back to go upstairs. Amber looks down at Opal. “You need to stop sitting by him so much. He’s going to think I’m staring at him every time I look over at you.”

“I can’t help it! He smells nice.” Opal says.

“I don’t care what he smells like. We need to be cautious.”

“You worry too much. Whatever that thing was caught me on a lunar eclipse, so I couldn’t transform fully. Had I been able to, I never would have gotten hurt.”

“Yeah, and it probably knew that. Probably want to make you transform into a wolf full time. You’d become rabid.”

“I’m well aware of that. I’d be able to sniff out anything demonic about him, especially by now. He seems genuine.”

“Good for him.”

“Amber.”

“Opal.”

“Would you two give it a rest?! You’re giving me a headache.” Penny says as she comes out from the back. “We have receipts to go over.”

Harry took a quick shower when he got up to his apartment, and then made his tea. It tasted really good, like, the best chamomile he ever had. He only drank about half of it when his eyes started to droop while watching to TV on the sofa. So, he got his butt into bed, and fell asleep almost immediately. Amber was right about him having vivid dreams.

There he was, walking through a forest at night. He had no idea where he was going, but let his legs take him there regardless. There was a glowing light that intrigued him, so he made his way over to it. As he approached, he saw a woman from behind, her hair flowing in the breeze and her hands glowing with what looked like electrical currents. He steps on a twig by accident, catching her attention. She looks over her shoulder at him, her eyes glowing a white-hot blue.

“What are you doing here?” She says, floating in the air above him. He falls to bum and looks up at her.

“I…I don’t know.” He swallows. “What are you doing here?”

“You need to get out of here it isn’t safe!” She scolds him.

“M’sorry, I don’t even know how I ended up here.” He scrambles to his feet, and she lowers herself to the ground. Her hair was still flowing, her eyes and hands still glowing. “I saw the light and just followed it I guess. Is there a way for you to turn that off? It’s pretty bright.”

The woman takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes. Her hands stop glowing, and when she opens her eyes, all Harry sees is a familiar sapphire color. He realizes who it is once her hair settles. It was that same silver/lavender color that Amber had.

“Amber?” His eyebrows shoot up as he looks at her. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing that you need to concern yourself with. Get out of here, now.” Her eyes glow again, as well as her hands, and she shoots up into the night sky without another word.

“What in the actual fuck?” Harry says to himself.

Harry woke up to his alarm the next morning not feeling groggy at all. In fact, he had never felt so refreshed after a night’s sleep! He quickly grabs his phone and opens the notes app before forgetting his dream. It was so bizarre and weird, he wasn’t quite sure what it meant, if anything at all. Why would he have a dream about Amber? And why would he dream about her glowing the way she did? He hadn’t watched Harry Potter recently, or anything of the like.

He gets dressed for the day, and decides to go into the shop for his morning coffee. The place was already bustling with early birds. Amber was behind the counter getting coffee and tea orders out. It astounded Harry that she was able to do so much by herself. He waits in line, saying hello to some of his students in the process.

“Good morning, what can I…oh, hi, Harry.” Amber sighs. “What would you like?”

“I’ll take an iced coffee, please, black.” He smiles as she nods. “That tea really put me to sleep last night. You were right, I had an odd dream.” She freezes for a moment as she scoops the ice cubes into the cup. “You were in it, actually.”

“That’ll be $3.50.” She says flatly as she sets the cup of coffee down on the counter. He hands her his card, and she runs it through the machine.

“You’re not even the least bit curious as to what I dreamed about?”

“Nope.” She smirks. “I don’t need to hear about your wet dreams.”

“It wasn’t a…I didn’t…” He shakes his head as his face flushes. “It wasn’t like that.”

“I’ve got a line of customers waiting.” She slides his card back to him.

“Can we talk later?”

“Harry, whatever it was, it was just a dream. So I was in it, so what? I’m flattered you were thinking of me, but don’t worry about it.”

“It’s just that…the strangest thing happened. Your eyes were glowing, and your hands were too, but, like, a different type of glowing, and we were in this forest. Oh! And you were, like, flying or floating, or something like that. Your hair was kind of glowing too.”

“You read too much fiction.” She rolls her eyes. “Buh-bye.”

“But-“

“Next!” She shouts, and it makes him flinch. He grabs his drink and leaves. Amber looks down at Opal, who was about to say something, but Amber shakes her head as to warn her.

“Amber, we need to talk about this.”

“Later, I have customers.” She whispers down at Opal, and looks at the next person in line. “Good morning.” She smiles.

Harry was so distracted during his classes, he ended up showing the movie version of The Grapes of Wrath to his fiction workshop class. It worked with the unit they were since they were discussing historical fiction. He wanted to know why Amber was so cold to him even though she was plenty kind to just about everyone else that stepped through her shop. He also wanted to discuss his dream with her. It felt so real, and he wanted to know why. He had a few students come see him during his office hours, and he tried to be as present as possible for those. There was one girl in his fiction class that came to just about all of his office hours, and normally he didn’t mind, but he had a lot of course work to do, and some grading to get done. He was also in a rush to get back to the shop.

“Hi, Professor Styles.” Whitney smiles.

“Hi, Whitney.” Harry sighs as she sits down.

“Are you feeling alright today?”

“Just a little stressed. I’ve got some work for the classes I’m taking to get done.”

“It’s so cool that you’re a grad student. You’re so good at teaching, I never would have guessed you weren’t a full professor.” She had a tendency to flirt with him. She was a senior, and twenty-one. In any other scenario, Harry probably would have gone for it since he was only a few years older, but he wasn’t about to start dating a student.

“Thanks, that means a lot. Listen, uh, I know we usually chat for a bit, but I really need to get some work done, so unless this is class related…”

“Oh.” She sits up a little straighter. “Um, I guess I don’t really have any questions…I will say, watching the movie helped me understand the book a little better. I was supposed to read it in high school, but I just used spark notes back in the day.”

“Good! I’m glad you have a better understanding of the themes.”

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later. Have a good weekend!”

“Thanks, Whitney, you too.”

They smile at each other before she leaves. He runs a hand through his hair, and attempts to get some of his grading done. Once he makes a decent enough dent, he packs his things and heads to the shop. He finds an open table to sit at, and gets to work on his courses. He was sitting near one of the aisles with the mood enhancing tea.

“I’m telling you, I’ve never been so wet in my life.” Normally, Harry wouldn’t eavesdrop, but a sentence like that was something he couldn’t just ignore. “This stuff really works.”

“Okay, but how was Robbie?”

“Hard as a rock, and desperate to please. He went down on me for, like, twenty minutes! He said I never tasted so good. We fucked for, like, an hour total. It was incredible. I’m definitely buying this stuff again. I couldn’t recommend it enough.”

“Does it taste good?”

“Mhm, like strawberries. I think that’s why it makes for such a good aphrodisiac. There’s a chocolate flavor too, but Amber said that one’s really strong, and it’s better to start out with the strawberry flavor.”

“Oh, damn, I’ll have to ask her about it then. Look, she restocked the anti-anxiety tea! The blueberry flavor is my absolute favorite.”

“I like the lemon, personally, but to each their own.”

Harry couldn’t believe what he heard, more so at the beginning of the girls’ conversation. How the fuck was he supposed to concentrate on his work now? He needed to wait out the customers like he did the night before. Opal comes trotting over to him like usual.

“Hey, there, pretty girl.” He pats the top of her head. “Thought about you today. You gonna curl up around my feet again?” Opal does just that and lets out a such that makes Harry chuckle. As the sun sets, and less people are in the shop, Harry finishes up his work. He notices Amber wiping down the tables. “Hey.” He says to her, standing up and walking over to her. “Could we talk?”

“Is this still about your dream? I told you might have some weird, vivid ones with it being your first time drinking the tea.”

“It’s just…I don’t know why I would have dreamt something like that. I asked you what was wrong, and you told me it was nothing I needed to worry about.”

“Hm, sounds like dream me is a lot like the actual me.” She smirks. Harry frowns slight, and she sighs. “You’re really worked up about this, huh?”

“A little, yeah.”

Amber looks down at Opal, and then back to Harry.

“I wish I could be more help, but it was just a dream, Harry. Try having some more tea tonight and see what you dream about.” She looks down at her watch. “I need to close up early, I have somewhere to be in a bit.”

“Oh, uh, do you have a date, or something?”

“What? No.” She scoffs. “I take Opal for a long walk on Friday nights. She gets antsy if we don’t leave on time.”

“Is that safe?”

“Of course it is.” She blinks at Harry. “We just go walking through some of the neighborhoods with the students live off campus.”

“Could I join you? Haven’t explored the area all that much.”

“Wouldn’t it be weird for you? In case you run into your students?”

“Nah.” He shrugs. “Doubt they’ll recognize me in the dark.”

“Let him come with us.” Opal says, and Amber glares down at her. “I know we were going for a hunt, but it might be good to get to know him better. His dream could mean something.”

“Ugh, fine!” Her voice startles Harry a bit. “Be at your door in ten minutes with some sensible shoes on.” She looks down at the loafers he’s wearing. “You’ll wanna wear sneakers, Grandpa.”

Ten minutes later, Harry was waiting outside his door for Amber. He decided to wear his light-wash jeans and a windbreaker, along with his glasses. Amber came down the stairs with Opal wearing a long black jacket, and black jeans tucked into a pair of combat boots. Her hair was down for a change, Harry thought it looked beautiful.

“Ready?” She asks him.

“Mhm, you’re not going to put a leash on Opal?”

“Nah, she’s not the type to run away.” They both head down the stairs and out the back door to the street. They make their way to the off-campus neighborhood.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how long have you been dying your hair that color? It’s really pretty.”

“Huh?”

“Your roots never show either, do you touch it up at home?”

“I don’t dye my hair.”

“Amber, remember who you’re talking to.” Opal says.

“I mean, uh, I have a hairdresser do it.” She smiles weakly at Harry. “I go every six weeks like clockwork. My hair’s, uh, naturally blonde, so my roots don’t show.”

“Really? But your eyebrows are so dark?”

“Dye those too.” Amber hated lying about herself, but there was nothing she could really do about it. “I don’t really like talking about myself, um, let’s talk about you. How come you’re going to grad school here and teaching?”

“Well, I love literature, reading and whatnot. I have a degree in English Education, but I wanna teach at a collegiate level, so I got into the master’s program here, and they’re letting me teaching. I’m technically a grad assistant, but I have my own classes.” They cross the street, and head up a slight hill. “Sort of hurt a bit when you said you hated reading.” He chuckles.

“I’m not going to apologize for that. I genuinely hate it if it’s not for research.”

“Did something make you not like reading as a kid?”

“I didn’t have much of a chance to read as a kid.” She mutters. “I went to an agricultural boarding school growing up, not much time for reading fantasy books when you’re working the land.”

“Wow! Why’d you do that?”

“I didn’t really have of a choice.”

“How come?”

“I just didn’t. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Well, is that how you got so good at making tea and coffee? I overheard some girls talking earlier, uh, you make an aphrodisiac?”

“I make a few, yeah. What did you hear?”

“That they work really well.” He smirks.

“They do. I only put out the best.”

“What would make you put out a product like that?”

“Sex sells.” She grins at him.

“Have you ever tested your product?”

“Sure, I test all of them to make sure they work properly.”

“And you found that it worked properly?” He smirks.

Amber is about to make a smart remark when she hears a blood curdling scream. She and Opal look at each other before sprinting off in the direction of the scream. Harry’s puzzled, and concerned, so he runs after them. He couldn’t believe how fast Amber could run. They all hear the scream again, and run towards the beginning of one of the walking trails. Harry loses sight of Amber and Opal as they run deeper into the woods. Harry’s stumped on where they could have gone. He uses the flashlight on his phone to help him see better.

“Help!” He hears a woman yell, and runs towards the sound.

When he gets closer, he starts getting major déjà vu. It was just like his dream. He stops short when he finds Amber and Opal. Opal’s eyes were glowing a striking blue and so were Amber’s. Amber’s necklace was glowing bright orange too. There was a woman on the ground, knocked unconscious. There was some odd shadow looming over her. All of a sudden, Amber’s hands start glowing, and what looks like electricity comes from her fingertips. It latches around the shadow like shackles, and it bellows a horrible sound.

“Who sent you?!” Amber yells to the shadow, but before she can get an answer, it vanishes. “Son of a bitch!”

“Amber.” Opal says. “Harry…”

Amber looks over at Harry, who she had completely forgotten about. Her necklace, eyes, and hands stop glowing. She looks down at the woman on the ground. She looked like a college student. Amber sighs, and raises her hands up, thus levitating the woman.

“Can you carry her? I’ll explain later.” Amber says.

Harry nods, and cautiously takes the woman in his arms, carrying her bridal style. Amber puts her hand on one of Harry’s shoulders, and blinks. Next thing Harry knows, they’re back on one of the streets in the neighborhood. Amber places her hand on the girl’s forehead, and takes a deep breath. Her eyes glow for a moment before she takes her hand away. She snaps her fingers, and the girl disappears from Harry’s arms.

“What the fu-“ Amber snaps her fingers again, and they’re in her apartment. “Fuck!” Harry pants, totally freaked out.

“Okay, calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down?! How do you expect me to calm down?!”

“If you don’t then she won’t be able to explain.” Opal says.

“Did she just talk?” Harry points to Opal.

“Yeah…she must be allowing you to hear her.” Amber shrugs.

“Right.” Harry’s eyes roll back, and he faints, dropping to the floor.

“And here I was thinking I’d have to force him to drink some tea to make him think this was all a dream.”

“Don’t you think he deserves an explanation? He literally had a dream where something similar happened! What if he’s some sort of mage too, but just doesn’t know it?”

“How could he not know it?”

“Not everyone’s born into it like you were. Maybe something drew him here, and maybe things activated when he drank the tea.”

“What do you want me to do, wake him up and explain everything to him? No way, I’m not diving in deep with a stranger.”

“But if you just-“

“Enough!” Amber’s eye glow warningly. “What I say goes.” She snaps her fingers, sending Harry down to his own bed. “He’ll just think he had another wild dream.”

“Wouldn’t that be suspicious?”

“Not if I give him something.” She grins. “I’ll be back in a minute.” Amber snaps herself down to Harry’s bedroom. She sprinkles some dried strawberry dust over his open mouth. “Sweet dreams.” She nearly cackles, and snaps herself back upstairs. “With the dream he’s about to have, he won’t be recalling a damn thing. It’s better if he doesn’t know.”

“We’ll see about that, stubborn girl.”

Harry wakes up Saturday in a cold sweat. He couldn’t remember how he ended up in bed, or taking his clothes off. He rips the blankets back and winces when the cold air hits his stiffy. He was used to being hard in the morning, but not like this. His prick was swollen and throbbing, begging to be taken care of.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He spits into his hand and grips himself.

He hisses from his own touch. He tries to remember last night. He recalls going for a walk, and then not much else. He jerks himself off until he comes. When he does, he swears a wank has never felt so good. He makes a proper mess of his tummy and heads for the shower. As he’s washing his hair, he notices he’s still hard, like, really hard. Not the post orgasm hard before he softens, it was like he hadn’t come at all. He sighs heavily, and starts pumping himself again. He grips at the tile on the walls as he whimpers and whines until he comes again.

When he gets out of the shower, and walks towards his dresser, he feels a throbbing between his legs. He looks down and sees that he’s hard again. Now he’s just annoyed. He had no idea what was going on. Unfortunately, he knew it wasn’t gonna go away on its own, so he jerks off a third time. He gets dressed, and goes upstairs to Amber’s apartment. He knocks on the door, but doesn’t hear anything.

“Amber, you home?!” He knocks again, but there’s nothing. She didn’t open until noon on Saturdays, where could she be?

He heads down the stairs, and peers into the shop, but doesn’t see anyone. He hears some noises coming from the basement door. He sighs and goes over to it. He knows he’s not supposed to go down there, but he needed answers. He knocks on the door loudly.

“Amber, you down there?!” He jiggles the door handle, and much to his surprise, it’s unlocked. “Amber?” Harry makes his way downstairs, and is stunned with what he sees. There were dozens of bookcases filled with old looking books, and bottles full of different liquids and leaves.

“Harry!” Amber shouts as she storms towards him. “You’re not supposed to be down here!”

“The door was unlocked.”

“Fucking.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’ll have to talk with Penny. Go upstairs, now.”

“What is all of this stuff?”

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“Is this a weird meth lab or something? Are you a drug dealer? Is that what you’re really selling to the students?” He gasps for a moment. “Are you selling them ecstasy?”

“What?! You’re a fucking moron!”

“Then explain what’s going on because I woke up with a raging boner this morning, and it took a really long time for it to go away, and I also can’t remember a thing that happened last night, so I want some answers!”

“Wait, you woke up the boner?”

“How is that the thing you’re focusing on?”

“You were supposed to have a wet dream. Did you dream about anything?”

“No, one second I was on a walk and the next I woke up in my bed all sweaty and hard.”

“Weird.”

“You’re telling me. Now-“

“No, it’s weird because what I gave you had a delayed effect.” She walks over to one of the shelves and pulls out a book. She flips through one of the pages. “Ohhhh.” She nods, closes the book, and puts it back. “I sprinkled some strawberry dust in your mouth from my dried stash, it’s extremely potent, that’s why I make it into a tea. Um, when it’s used the way I used it…it’s supposed to make you have a wet dream. I think it delayed because you passed out last night.”

“I did?!”

“Yes.” She sighs, and snaps her fingers, bringing them to her apartment.

“Amber, I’m about two seconds away from-“

“Have a seat.” She points to her couch, and sits down. He sits down next to her, but not too close.

“Where’s Opal?”

“Out shopping with Penny. She upset with me because of last night. She wanted me to tell you everything, but I didn’t want to. I guess I don’t really have a choice now.”

“What do you mean she wanted you to tell me?” Harry blinks.

“May I press my forehead to yours? It’ll be easier to explain that way.”

“Um, sure?”

Amber grips the back of Harry’s neck, pulling him closer. It was almost like she was about to kiss him, but she doesn’t. She presses her forehead to Harry’s, and her eyes start glowing. Harry suddenly has flashes of everything from the night before. She lets go of him, and gives him a moment to process everything.

“Holy shit.” He says, blinking a few times. “So my dream did mean something.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. You had some sort of vision, and I have no idea why.”

“What are you then?”

“I’m a mage.”

“Which is what?”

“Well, it’s sort of like a witch, but less spooky. I can cast spells, and I have other abilities. I was born into it. My hair color is naturally like this, that’s why you haven’t seen my roots grow out.”

“Your necklace was glowing last night too. Does that have anything to do with it?”

“I’ve had this since I was born. It helps enhance things.” She grips the jewel for a moment. “It also keeps me safe.”

“From who?”

“People who might want me for their own selfish needs. I’ve been trying to track this…this thing down. A demon of some kind attacked Opal last spring. I thought I was close to finding it last night, but that shadow was just a minion.”

“Do you know why something might have attacked her?”

“We’ve…wait a second, you’re taking all of this in a little too easily. You’re not freaked out?”

“Most of the fiction I read is fantasy based.” He shrugs. “Besides, it’s hard to doubt something when you see it with your own eyes. So, why do you think something attacked her?”

“We’ve been trying to figure it out for months! We were out in the woods at night collecting some leaves. I turned my back for a second and I heard her yelp out. It was terrible. Luckily, it left before it could do some real damage. I don’t want it hurting her, or any of the college students. Seems like it’s back.”

“Can I ask…why have a shop that’s so obviously full of magic?”

“A lot of people are into natural healing methods these days. And this is a pretty granola town.” She shrugs. “I’ve been here the last four years. Things took off quickly.”

“Where were you before?”

“I told, you I went to an agricultural boarding school. It was for kids like me. I…don’t really know my parents, and I don’t have any siblings. They kind of just send you off once you’re of age to go to pre-school.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“It wasn’t.” She shakes her head. “Well, it was and it wasn’t. I learned how to keep myself safe, and learn how to properly use my powers. They let you leave when you’re twenty. I had all my firsts there. My first kiss, my first love, my first heartbreak.” She sighs.

“Is Penny a mage too?”

“Sort of.” Amber smiles. “She’s more a mother to me than my own. She practically raised me. When I left the school I asked her to come with me, and she agreed.”

“When did you get Opal?”

“When you’re little, around the age of six, they take you to a farm so you can connect with an animal. She was the cutest puppy I had ever seen. I bonded with her right away. We ran around and played and laughed. Opal’s my everything.”

“And she can talk with you and others telepathically?”

“Correct. She has to feel bonded to the people she allows to hear her. She’s felt comfortable with you since you got here…I’ve also been trying to figure that out. It pisses me off to no end that she likes you.”

“Why?” He chuckles.

“Because I can’t stand you. You’re so fucking positive and bouncy. You’re always in a good mood, it’s disgusting.” She grimaces.

“Well, I know being a mage can’t mean you’re crabby because Penny’s always delighted to see me.” He smirks. “It disgusts you that I’m happy?”

“Very much so, yes.” She nods.

“I can’t help it. I’ve got a great job, I’m studying something I’m interested in, and I get to see you every day. What could be better than that?”

“You’re happy because you get to see me every day?”

“Well, sure. You’re so interesting, and…I’m very attracted to you, but I’m sure that’s been obvious to you since I walked through the door.” He rubs the back of his neck as he blushes.

“I’m flattered, but I’m not really one for dating. I don’t have the time for it. Not when there’s a fucking demon on the loose that I can’t seem to track down.”

“Maybe I could help. Two heads are better than one.” He smiles.

“No, the only thing you can help with is keeping all of this to yourself. You can’t say a thing to anyone.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

She nods and takes her necklace off. Harry watches as she moves her fingers above the stone, and crates an amber ring from it.

“Here, you like to wear rings, so put this on.” She grabs one of his hands and slides the ring onto his pinky. “This will keep you safe. It’ll keep us connected.”

“Thank you for trusting me with all of this. Um, so about this morning…did you think I was going to be distracted by a saucy dream?” He smirks.

“It was supposed to make you forget everything entirely. I’m sorry it didn’t work right, that must have been painful. How many times did you, uh, you know, before it stopped?”

“Three.”

“Poor thing.” She pouts. “You must be exhausted.”

“I’m still a little tired, yeah.” He chuckles.

“Why don’t you go to take a nap? Penny and Opal should be back soon, and I need to catch them up on everything.”

“This isn’t some trick, right? You’re not going to try to cast a spell to make me forget?”

“No.” She chuckles. “I don’t see much use in it. Your body was clearly trying to fight off what I gave you.”

“Does, um, does it always last like that?”

“Oh, you mean staying hard after you come?”

“Yeah.” He blushes.

“Not if you fuck someone. If you’re alone and have to take care of it yourself it takes longer for it to wear off since you’re not exerting as much energy.” They both stand up and she walks him to her door. “Should have come knocking sooner, I could have helped you out.” She winks at him.

“That’s not funny.” He deadpans.

She laughs anyways, and sends him out. She snaps herself back to the basement where Opal and Penny are already waiting for her.

“Before so a word, I told him what he needed to know.” Amber tells them.

“The powder didn’t work?” Penny asks.

“No, apparently it didn’t kick in until just before he woke up. Poor thing had to jerk it three times.” Amber shrugs.

“See! This is why I think something is dormant within him. First, your tea causes him to have a vision. Second, the powder didn’t work. What did he say when you told him what was going on?” Opal says.

“He took it really well. The questions he asked were more for his understanding, to piece things together. He wasn’t freaked out at all.”

“Then that’s a third thing. We need to figure out what he is.”

“I know, but how? It’s not like I can experiment on him.” Amber sighs.

“I’ve heard of this before.” Penny says, padding over to one of the book shelves. She makes a motion with her hands to get one of the books on the top shelf down. She brings the book over to the lectern so she and Amber could look at it together. Penny flips through the pages, and finds what she’s looking for. “Ah-ha! Here it is. Long ago, there were families that left the coven, wanting to leave the magic behind. It was when a lot of those awful witch hunts became popular. After a few generations, the families became unaware of their abilities, thus the magic lying dormant within. Apparently, all it takes to ignite the magic is meeting another witch, and drinking something magical they made for them. You’ve been making him tea and coffee for almost two months! Then you gave him that tea sleepy-time tea that’s laced with magic. No wonder he had a vision.” Penny shakes her head.

“I wonder if deep down he felt a pull here…to Amber.”

“Could be.” Penny ponders. “I’ve seen that happening too. Certain covens did have truces back in the day. You two could have been from two separate covens, but bonded nonetheless.”

“If you’re getting into some weird soulmate shit, I’m gonna have to head out.” Amber says.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Penny shakes her head. “When’s his birthday?”

“Um, February, I think.” Amber says.

“Then is birthstone would be an amethyst.” Opal says.

“If you look at any color wheel you’ll see that purple and yellow are polar opposites.” Penny says.

“But they’re also complimentary colors.”

“Can one of you just get to the point?!” Amber huffs.

“You’re not soulmates, but you are connected. In our various covens, those with citrine birthstones, like yours, and those with amethyst birthstones tended to make great pairs. They’re good at problem solving together.”

“I made him a ring from my stone…should I add an amethyst to it?”

“No.” Opal says. “No, he’ll need that ring to stay as it is for safety. We need to get him his own necklace with the stone. Then we can see if it glows.”

“If it glows…he’s a mage.” Penny states.

“Great, where the fuck am I supposed to get a pure amethyst on such short notice?” Amber pinches the bridge of her nose. “Not to mention getting it welded into a necklace.”

“You’ll have to take him out to the Four Peaks Mine in Arizona. I can run the shop while you’re gone. You’ll take Opal with you, simple as that.”

“It’s not simple. He has classes to teach, and there’s a demon on the loose!”

“Yes, but you might be able to ward it off together. It’s Saturday, we could get there quick, and be back by tomorrow night. Plenty of time.” Opal says.

“That’s a long way to snap us there. We’ll need to sleep there tonight so I get gain my strength back.” Amber says.

“Then so be it.” Penny says. “I can handle things here. We’re only open a half day tomorrow as is. Where is he now?”

“Napping.” Amber sighs. “I’ll go wake him up. Opal, be ready in five?”

Opal nods, and Amber snaps herself into Harry’s apartment. She walks into his bedroom where he’s sleeping soundly. Poor thing was knackered. She sits on the edge of his bed, and gently pulls him out of sleep. His eyes flutter open slowly.

“Amber?”

“Hi.” She smiles softly. “We have to go to Arizona for the night to get you an amethyst stone.”

“Um, okay…why?” He sits up a bit.

“It’s your birthstone, just as this is mine.” She points to her necklace. “We need to test something, and we need the pure substance to do so. We may be connected somehow, yellow and purple are complimentary colors.”

“Can I ask you something? If the birth stone is so important, why don’t you glow yellow instead of blue?”

“Blue and yellow are also complimentary colors, just as green and purple are. I was born in November, so it was already obvious what my stone would be, but when my parents saw my eyes for the first time…they knew I’d be powerful. Not all citrines are born with such blue eyes, only the most powerful. Your eyes are very green, so you may be quite powerful yourself, but we won’t know anything until we get to the mine. Pack an overnight bag, and be downstairs in five minutes.”

Without another word, she snaps herself out of his room, leaving him speechless.

“I’m really starting to hate it when she does that.” He says to himself before getting out of bed.

It was dusk by the time Amber was able to snap herself, Harry, and Opal to Arizona. Their first task was to find a motel to stay at for the night before heading to the mine. The biggest challenge was finding one that was pet friendly.

“The mines will be too dangerous for you two. I’ll go and bring back what we need by morning.”

“I can’t let you go alone.”

“Amber, you’ll know if something’s wrong. I’ll check in with you. Just get a room and rest up.”

Opal sprinted off into the night while Amber and Harry went to the check in area of the closest motel. They go inside to see what the vacancy situation is. An older gentleman was behind the desk.

“Good evening, folks.” He smiles warmly.

“Hi, we’d like a room with two queens please.” Amber says.

“Let me just double check if we have that available.” The man goes onto the computer on his desk. “Unfortunately, our last available room with two queens has already been reserved by a family of four coming in. I do, however, one room with a full left. Would that work?”

“A full is so tiny.” Amber frowns. “Is there at least a couch in the room?”

“A small loveseat.”

“Ugh, alright, we’ll take it.” She sighs, and gives him her credit card. Harry can’t hide the smirk on his face as the man types away at his computer. Amber glares at him briefly before taking her card back, and getting the room key.

“Enjoy your stay.” The man smiles at both of them.

“Can’t you just cast some sort of spell to make the bed bigger?” Harry asks once they’re in the room.

“No, that’s not how that works. I can’t change the molecular composition of a mattress like that. I’m also too weak to perform that kind of magic even if I wanted to. Snapping us across the country took a lot out of me, and I need to rest so I can get us home tomorrow.” She closes and locks the door behind them.

“What exactly will finding this amethyst do?”

“Well, I’ll turn it into a necklace, put it on you, and we’ll see if it glows.”

“And if it does?”

“Then you’re a mage, and we’ll have some bigger fish to fry.” She sits down on the edge of the bed and takes her boots off. “I’m gonna go wash up, and then I’m turning in. I brought some tea so we can get to sleep.” She makes her way into the bathroom. Harry goes in after her. When he’s done, she hands him a cup of tea.

“Thanks…do you think I’ll have a weird vision again?”

“You could.” Amber shrugs. “I have no idea.” She goes through her bag and pulls out a night shirt and pajama bottoms. “Turn around.”

Harry does so quickly while she changes. He grabs his own pajama pants to throw on, and stays in his tee shirt. Once they’re done with their tea, they both climb into bed. It wouldn’t be a big deal, but there was little wiggle room, and Harry was a broad, tall guy. They were shoulder to shoulder, squished in the small bed.

“Could be worse, could have been a room with just a twin.” Harry says to break the tension.

“Why in the fuck would there be a motel room with just a twin bed in it?”

“I don’t know, I was just saying.” He shrugs, and turns his head to look at her. “Clearly, there are stranger things out there than that.” He smirks.

“Go to sleep, Harry.” She rolls away from him onto her side.

“You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be. You’ve never shared a bed with someone before?”

Amber sighs heavily and rolls back onto her back to look at him better.

“I have, but these are tight quarters if you haven’t noticed, and you told me you were attracted to me-“

“So? You think I’m going to disrespect you and take advantage of the situation? I’m not that kind of guy.”

“I didn’t say you were. I just feel…nervous. It’s been a while since I shared a bed with a man, that’s all. You’re pretty, um, attractive yourself, so…there’s that.” Her face had to be beat red right now, she could feel it.

“Well, look who’s expressing their feelings!” Harry gasps. “Who knew this side to you even existed?”

“Don’t be sarcastic with me, Harry. You don’t know what it was like growing up the way I did. It was really hard at times. We were basically like grounded nomads.”

“M’sorry.” He turns on his side to face her easier. “Would you, uh, would you want to have a cuddle while we drift off? Doesn’t have to mean anything, but I know you’re worried about Opal, could help you calm down some.”

Amber nods and turns back over so Harry can spoon her. He doesn’t fully press his pelvis to her bum, he didn’t want to push it and make her uncomfortable. She did feel better having his arm wrapped around her. They both drift off easily after settling, the tea kicking in.

In his dream, Harry’s brought to a large estate, like a mansion from 1800’s London. There was a large field as well, a gentle breeze flowing. It looked like it was a beautiful day. He goes walking for a bit and finds this gorgeous tree that had a few tire swings attached to it. He stops short when he sees Amber. She looked a little younger, her hair was much longer, tied back in a flowing braid, and she was wearing a black, off the shoulder maxi dress with buttons running down the front. She had her arms crossed over chest, and she didn’t look happy with the young man she was speaking with. Harry creeps a little closer to hear what they’re talking about.

“Is what Opal told me true, yes or no?” Amber says to him.

“Amber-“

“Yes, or no, Max.” She scowls at him.

“What exactly did she tell you?”

“That you’ve been practicing dark magic in the woods at night.”

“She’s never liked me.” He scoffs. “I can’t believe you’re going to believe that mat over me.”

“Be very careful with how you speak about her.” Amber’s eyes start glowing.

“Settle down.”

“Answer the question.”

“Yes, okay, yes…I’ve been practicing dark magic.”

“Why?! You know it’s against the rules.”

“Well, it shouldn’t be. It does more good than harm, everyone is just too scared because it’s powerful.”

“You’re going to get expelled if one of the elders catches you. Do you want to be thrown out into the world before you’re ready?”

“We’re eighteen, Amber, we can do whatever we want. We could leave here together, and never come back. This place is a prison.”

“This place keeps us safe. You know as well as I do we can’t leave until we’re at least twenty.”

“Since when do you follow every single rule, huh? Where’s the girl that sneaks off into my room at night?” He steps closer to her, caressing one of her cheeks.

“That’s totally different.” She swats his hand away. “You shouldn’t be messing with that shit. If Opal saw you, others could too.”

“So I’ll be more careful.”

“Or you could stop. If you don’t…if you don’t then it’s over between us.”

Max’s dark brown eyes start to glow, along with the jewel hanging from the chain around his neck. It looked like aquamarine. Brown and blue were opposites as well. Maybe those gems had a connection too? He couldn’t be sure, a lot of this was confusing. Amber’s eyes were glowing again to match Max’s energy. Both sets of their hands started glowing as well.

“You’d throw away everything between us over something so small?!” He yells at her.

“This isn’t small, this is serious! Don’t make me strike you, Max.” There were tears streaming down her cheeks.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

With a flick of her wrist, she blasts him, knocking him down to the ground. She hovers over him, ready to serve another blow.

“I’m so disappointed in you.” She says to him.

“You don’t know what you’ve just started.” He grits his teeth.

“Actually, pretty sure I just finished it. Goodbye, Max.”

Harry blinks, and all of a sudden he’s in a forest at night. He could hear growling. He runs in the direction of the noise and sees Opal growling towards a man. It was Max. Harry’s eyes widen as he watches Max chant something, striking a blow towards Opal. Harry tries to save her, but he’s frozen in his place.

“Opal?!” He hears Amber yell, and Max disappears. “Opal! Oh my god!” She drops to the ground, her body going over Opal’s and snapping them away from the scene.

Harry’s eyes burst open, and he sits up right away. Amber’s not in the bed anymore. Before he has a heart attack, he hears her coming out of the bathroom.

“Morning.” She yawns. “Opal’s about five minutes away. How’d you sleep?”

“Amber, uh, when Opal got attacked, did she ever say what it was, or who it was that attacked her?”

“No.” Amber shakes her head. “She couldn’t remember a thing. I think whatever it was put a hex on her memory of the event. Why?”

“I had a really unsettling dream.” He blinks a few times and looks at her. Before he can say anything else, Opal appears in the room, letting a large amethyst fall from her mouth.

“You wouldn’t believe the digging I had to do to get this, but it’s a good one.” She says. “You both slept in that tiny bed?”

“Not the time. Go drink some water.” Amber snatches the amethyst. It hovers above her palm. Her eyes glow, and in seconds it’s transformed into a slide on a necklace. “Let’s do this first, and then we can talk about your dream, okay?” She says to Harry as she comes over to him. Opal hops up on the bed, and Amber sits beside Harry. “Close your eyes.” She says softly, and he does so. She places the necklace over his head, and the gem rests on his chest.

The amethyst starts to hover and glow. Amber and Opal look at each other.

“Is anything happening?” Harry asks.

“Open your eyes.” Amber says.

Harry opens his eyes, and they’re glowing a bright green. He gasps when his looks down at the floating amethyst. He looks down at his hands and sees that they’re glowing too.

“How do I turn it off?!” Harry yelps in fear.

“Don’t panic! Give it a moment, the gem is bonding with you, just breathe.” Amber says.

A few moments pass before the gem rests on Harry’s chest once more. He eyes and hands stop glowing as well, and he takes a deep breath.

“What does all of this mean?” He asks them.

“You’re a mage, your abilities have been dormant for quite some time. You’re definitely more powerful than most, you’ll have to learn how to hone in on it.” Opal explains.

“I guess that would explain the vision-type dreams. I…Amber, I saw your break up with someone named Max. You got into a fight because he was performing dark magic. Then I was in the woods where Opal was attacked. It was him who attacked her, not some random demon.”

“What?!” Amber’s eyes flash for a moment. “I’ll kill him, I’ll-“

“No, Amber, that’s the exact rage he wants you to feel.” Opal says. “But we do need to track him down before he does more damage around town. Those college kids don’t deserve his wrath.”

When they all got back Sunday evening, Amber explained everything to Penny. She was beyond infuriated, and reached out to the other elders back at the boarding school to let them know what was going on. Harry was taking in a lot of information in, but he was doing well at not freaking out. Penny took him aside to calmly explain to him was his powers meant, and that there was a code of ethics he’d need to read up on and follow. Now that Amber knew Max was involved, she needed to figure out a way to track him down, and fast.

The weeks go on, no shadows lurking, no demons, and no Max. Amber, Penny, and Opal take advantage of the quiet to train Harry in their spare time. Lucky for them, he was a fast reader, and a quick learner. He was picking up certain spells naturally. He knew it would take a while to get as good as Amber at all of this, but he was happy with the progress he was making. He had never felt more like himself in his life. Penny had them working on combination spells, and boy were they powerful. The blue and green glows mixed beautifully.

“I have a feeling he may strike on Halloween.” Opal says to them one evening.

“Wouldn’t that be sort of cliché?” Harry asks.

“Please, Max lives for shit like that. He probably thinks it’ll be the perfect cover since we usually go out on Halloween.” Amber says.

“What do you do?”

“Penny stays back to hand out candy to the little kids, and Opal and I usually go around making sure there aren’t any creatures looking for trouble.”

“If Opal thinks he may strike on Halloween, then I think I know where we could wait for him. If I draw out where I had that original vision, do you think you’d know where in the woods it is?”

“It’s worth a try.” Opal says.

Opal knew exactly where Harry was talking about after looking over the picture he drew. Halloween was only a few days away, they needed to prepare. Harry was about to get ready for bed when there was a knock on his door. He looks through the peephole to see Amber, and he smiles.

“Hi, there.” He says as he opens the door.

“Hi, may I come in?”

“Of course.” She nods and comes inside. She had on an oversized shirt and pajama pants. Harry smirks to himself as he closes the door. “So, what’s up?”

“Nothing, I just…well, I just wanted to say that I’m really proud of you.”

“For what?”

“Taking all of this so well, for jumping in without a second thought. You’re doing really well with the lessons, and I know it’s got to be stressful because you’re trying to balance this whole mess along with getting your master’s and teaching.” She chews on her bottom lip. “I know Penny is really good at giving praise, but I’m not always so good at it…that’s what the kids at the boarding school used to tell me when I’d work with them anyways, so I just wanted to make sure I told you how proud I am. I really couldn’t stand you when we first met, but I like you a lot more now.”

He knew the last part was a joke, so he laughs before responding.

“Thanks, that means a lot. When I’m passionate about something, I tend to just dive right in, and I usually aim to please.” He steps a little closer to her. “Is that all you came down here for? To praise me?”

She narrows her eyes at him while her cheeks turn a bright red. He was making her nervous, and she hated feeling that way.

“What else would I have come down here for?” She puts her hands on her hips.

“I don’t know, you tell me. Typically, when a girl comes knocking at my door after midnight, she’s looking for something very particular.”

Amber scoffs and shakes her head. She crosses her arms as she smirks at him.

“Mm, I bet you’d love it if I came down here to seduce you. You strike me as the type that likes to hear a woman beg for your cock. Am I right about that, Harry? You’re so nice and sweet all day long, do you like to get a little mean in the bedroom?” She raises her eye brows playfully. “No, maybe you like it when your woman gets a little mean, or maybe it’s a mix of both.”

“You know what I think?”

“Tell me.”

“I think that whoever you’ve slept with in the past never pleased you in the way that you need to be pleased.”

“And how do I need to be pleased?”

“Probably with a lot of tongue, I’m guessing.” He watches as Amber’s pupils dilate just the smallest amount. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To feel all warm and wet between your thighs.”

“I’ve got a toy that does that for me. Perfectly mimics the feeling of someone sucking on my clit.”

“Can’t beat the real thing.”

“Sure it can.” She shrugs. “It gets me panting, mining, screaming. And it gets me absolutely soaked. Probably squirted for all I know.” She pushes past him to walk towards his door. “Sleep well, Harry.”

“How am I supposed to sleep knowing that right above me you’re soaking your own sheets?” He pouts at her.

“Drink some tea, you’ll sleep just fine.” She winks, and out the door she goes.

Harry groans to himself, and heads to the kitchen to make himself some tea. There’s no way he’d sleep on his own tonight.

“I should be going with you two.”

“No, you’ll stay here with Penny where it’s safe. Dark magic can’t infiltrate the shop. You’re his target, so we’ll have a fake you set up.” Amber says. Both her and Harry were dressed in all black. She takes his hand in hers, and she snaps them out to the forest. “We’ll have to travel the rest of the way on foot.” She tells Harry.

“When we get there, and we catch him…what exactly are you going to do.”

“I’m going to take his powers away. I should have done it a long time ago.”

“You know how to do that?”

“Yes, Penny taught me how. It’s only for extreme circumstances, but I know how to sort of, like, bend the energy from him. His stone will go black, and that’ll be it.”

“So…all of this is because he thinks you broke up with him because of something Opal saw him do?”

“It’s more than that.” Amber sighs. “He was always jealous…I put Opal first a lot. He didn’t have the same relationship with his animal guide, and eventually he parted from it. That can break something within you. It’s probably why he turned to the dark magic in the first place. I tried to be there for him, but we started fighting a lot more, and when Opal told me what she saw, that was the last straw for me.”

“How long were you together for?”

“Well, I’d known him my whole life, but we got together when we were sixteen, so two years. He was my first everything. I’ve had other relationships, but it’s tough dating a non-mage. Everything has to be a secret; it’s exhausting.”

“Hearing you say that helps me make sense of my own dating life. I never felt fully connected to any of my girlfriends, even when we were having sex. I felt like I was trying to force the passion or something.”

“God, you’re such a romantic.” She says in a disgusted tone. “It’s all that damn fiction you read.”

“Are you telling me you don’t want to have passionate sex?”

“No, but sometimes sex is just sex. You get your rocks off, zip back up, and get on with your day.”

“That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

“Have you ever fucked someone you hated?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone to be honest with you. I’ve not liked people before.”

“Okay, have you ever fucked someone you didn’t like?”

“Why would I do that?”

“You can be attracted to someone and hate their guts. It’s hot and lustful.” She smirks.

“Too bad we didn’t fuck when you hated me then. Could have been pretty steamy.”

“You’re an idiot.” She laughs. “Wait, I think we’re here. Get into positron.”

The two of them huddle behind a large tree. Amber’s eyes glow, and with a few twists of her fingers, a fake Opal is created. Amber acts as if the dog is a puppet, making her sniff around and dig. Harry quietly watches in amazement. Before long, a shadow appears, then a few more. Max appears with the shadows, his eyes glowing a reddish brown.

“You must think I’m a real idiot.” Max chuckles lowly, snapping his fingers and making the fake Opal vanish. “Come on out Amber.” Amber and Harry stand up, coming out from behind the tree. “Oh, look! You’ve brought a friend. Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between your mutt and an illusion?” He smirks.

“No, we knew you’d figure it out.” Amber says. “You’re such a sick fuck trying to hurt her when really it’s me you’re mad at. I broke your heart, and you blame her, but you did it to yourself. You knew I wouldn’t tolerate all of this.”

“You broke just about every rule you could at that boarding school!”

“Yeah, like sneaking into your room after hours, and breaking curfew, not messing with dark magic! It’s possessed you, your eyes aren’t supposed to glow red. I’ve grown fond of this town, and I won’t have you terrorizing defenseless kids because of me. This ends now.”

“Well, you’re about that, but I don’t think you’ll be satisfied with the outcome. See, I’m going to find Opal, and I’m going to make sure she learns that eavesdropping isn’t okay. I know she’s gotten older, but even old dogs can learn new tricks.”

Max’s hands and eyes start glowing, and he charges towards Amber.

“Harry, handle the shadows, I’ll take care of Max!” She yells just as she jumps into the air to avoid Max’s blow.

While Amber and Max cast spells at each other, Harry springs into action. He couldn’t fly or float, or whatever the fuck Amber’s able to do just yet, but he had gotten pretty good at casting key defense and offense spells. Max’s shadows were strong, getting the better of Harry a few times, but Harry’s eyes start glowing along with his gem, and then all bets are off for the shadows. He’s impressed with himself when he’s able to make them vanish. He looks over and sees Amber and Max rushing towards each other with an immense amount of rage. The blow they strike at the same time explodes, causing them both to be flung backwards. Amber’s back slams into a tree, making her fall to the ground.

“Amber!” Harry sprints over to her, cradling her face in his hands. “Come on, Love, wakeup.” He’s panicking now.

“I should have known.” Max says as he scrambles to his feet. Harry looks over at him. “An amethyst and a citrine, how cliché.” He scoffs. “You’re new to all of this, I can feel it. Why she’d spend her time with a mongrel like you is beyond me.” His hands start glowing again as he walks over to Harry. “Not to worry, once you and Opal are out of the picture, she’ll be all mine once more.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re mistaken.”

Harry lunges forward, tackling Max by the legs. He pins him down, and punches Max in the face. Max telepathically throws Harry off him. Harry casts spell after spell towards Max, but they’re all blocked.

“You’re weak, what could she possibly want with you?” Max laughs as he blocks another strike.

Amber’s eyes flutter open, and she sees the two men fighting. She rises off the ground, and gets high enough to have an arial view of them. She watches as Max throws Harry into a tree. That was the last straw. She takes a deep breath, and nose dives towards Max. He doesn’t see it coming as he’s forced into the ground. She pins him down and snatches the gem around his neck, and breaks the chain.

“What are you doing?!” He shouts.

“Something I should have done a long time ago. You’re too dangerous.” Amber shoots back up into the air, and Max follows her.

“Give it back!”

“No!”

She wraps the chain around her fist, and points her other arm out at him. The blue glow leaves her palm and goes right to Max’s heart. First, a red glow starts to leave his body, and soon it turns into Max’s original brown glow. They both start lowering to the ground. He’s screaming at the top of his lungs, and she has tears streaming down her cheeks. There’s a large flash of light, and then nothing.

“You have no idea what you’ve done.” He says weakly on his knees looking up at her.

“I know exactly what I’ve done.” She throws Max’s gem on the ground and steps on it, breaking it into tiny pieces. “I can’t believe I thought this would actually be a challenge.” She pushes him all the way down to the ground with her boot, and steps on his chest. “Only the weak turn to dark magic.”

“What am I supposed to do without my powers?” He asks weakly.

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask your friends?” The shadows come to surround Max. Amber steps back from him and watches as they circle around him. They look to her. “Unless you want to end up just like that, I strongly suggest you take him far away from here.” They all vanish. Amber had a feeling this fight was long from over, but for now Max wouldn’t be able to do any more damage. She rushes over to Harry who was still laying on the ground. “Harry!” She cradles his head into her lap and places her hand on his forehead.

“Amber?”

“Hey.” She smiles down at him.

“Did we win?”

“We did.” She nods. “You were so brave trying to battle him. I took his powers away, we should be safe for a while.”

“I bet Opal will be relieved.”

“Yeah, she will be. Let’s get back to the shop, yeah?”

Harry hums his response just as Amber snaps them to the shop. Penny and Opal were cleaning up from the trick or treating.

“You’re back!” Opal exclaims, running over to the two of them. Amber drops to her knees to hug her friend.

“I took his powers away. We could easily see him again, but not for a long time.” Amber says.

“I’m so proud of you.” Opal nuzzles her forehead to Amber’s. “I’m proud of you too, Harry.”

“I’m glad you’ll be safe now.” Harry scratches at Opal’s head.

“You two look knackered.” Penny says. “Here, I made some tea for you both, go upstairs and unwind for a bit. We can talk about everything in the morning.”

“Good idea, thank you. Where’s the tea?” Amber asks.

“I snapped it up to Harry’s apartment.” Penny smiles. “Go on, Opal and I can finish locking up.”

Harry and Amber make their way into his apartment. They see the tea on his coffee table, and sit down on his sofa. They’re quiet for a moment as they take a sip. It had the faintest hint of a coffee smell, which was peculiar. It should either taste like chamomile or vanilla. Amber was too tired to question it.

“I’m going to head up.” She says after finishing her tea. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Alright.” He smiles at her. “We can keep training together, right? I’d like to keep learning.”

“Of course.” She smiles. “You still have a lot to learn. Goodnight, Harry.”

“Night, sleep well.” He walks her to the door and watches as she heads upstairs.

Amber takes a quick shower, and changes into a tee shirt and bed shorts. Opal was already asleep on the daybed in the living room. Amber crawls into bed and sighs with relief. She tosses and turns for a bit. She felt wide awake now, like she had just been given a burst of energy. She huffs and puffs, getting more and more uncomfortable. She feels hot all over, and kicks her blankets back. Her thighs felt sweaty, so she dips her fingers inside her shorts and gasps. She was wet, incredibly wet. She sits up and remembers the tea.

“Fucking, Penny.” She groans. Coffee had a way of masking other smells. Amber gets out of bed, getting more and more frustrated with each step. Opal pops an eye open.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Why’d you let Penny give me the mood tea?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Seems like your problem will go away faster if you see Harry, though.”

“You’ll face my wrath in the morning.”

“Mhm, go have some fun.”

Amber makes her way down the stairs to Harry’s apartment. She bangs on his door, preying he wasn’t asleep already. After a few moments, he opens the door only wearing a pair of boxer briefs. He was holding a pillow over his crotch. Amber places her hands on either side of the doorframe.

“We have a problem.” She huffs. “Penny slipped us the wrong tea.”

“Was wondering why I got so hard once I got into bed.” He looks her up and down. “Why’d you come all the way down here?”

“Because if we don’t take care of it properly then we’ll be up all night, and I don’t feel like masturbating for hours on end until it stops.”

“Here I was thinking I’d have to wank off to just the thought of you.” He steps closer to her, dropping the pillow to the floor. Her eyes flicker down to his strained prick.

“I wanted us to go out on a proper date before we did anything like this.” Amber mutters. “Penny’s so pushy whenever she wants me to be with someone.”

“Do you ever listen to her?”

“No.”

“Seems like she took the necessary steps.” He hooks an arm around her waist, pulling her into him. “I’ll take you out to breakfast tomorrow morning, how’s that sound?”

“I’ve always wanted to go on a breakfast date.”

“You wanna do this? I can kiss you, touch you?” His lips ghost over hers.

“Please, take care of me. M’dripping.”

“For me?”

“For you.” She confirms. “This stuff is potent, but it works better when you have someone in mind that you really want to fuck.”

Harry groans and slots his mouth over hers. He brings her further into the apartment, and kicks the door closed. His hands cup her cheeks as they bump into various walls. She bites down on his bottom lip and he moans into her. He licks into her mouth and starts sucking on her tongue. She tugs on his hair and jumps up so he can carry her into his room. Her legs wrap securely around his waist, moaning into his mouth as he sucks on her bottom lip. He drops her onto his bed, a whine escaping her from the loss of his body. He smirks as he moves to hover over her, attaching his lips to her neck. He sponges wet kisses along her skin, and nibbles on her earlobe.

“What do you like, Amber?” He says into her ear, and her hips buck up into his.

“Anything right now would be good, I’m soaked.” She whimpers, and he moves to look at her.

“Because of the tea, or because you really want me, because I can’t fuck you if it’s just from the tea.”

“It’s a mix of both. The tea can bring out things you’re already feeling for someone else. I want you, I mean it, I’m not just saying it so you’ll fuck me. I…I like you, alright? I really do like you. I think about you when you’re not around, and the best part of my day is when you come into the shop after you’ve finished working for the day. You set up your stupid laptop and work on your stupid assignments, all while looking unapologetically handsome.”

“Why would you keep all of that to yourself for so long, hm?” He coos, brushing some hair away from her face.

“Because romance makes me sick, and so does being vulnerable.” She pouts at him.

“Well, lucky for you, I’m pretty good at both.” He presses his lips to her once more before shifting down her body. He tugs on her shorts, and she lifts her hips to help him take them off. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath, which made things much easier. His eyes widen when he sees how slick she is between her legs. “Christ, you weren’t kidding.”

“It hurts, please, just do something.” She whines again.

Harry smirks before licking over one of her inner thighs, and then the other. He licks over her slit, and she moans out in relief. He licks up to her clit and sucks harshly on it. He moans into her and presses down on her lower stomach. He slides two fingers inside her, and her head rolls back into his pillows. Harry thought she tasted amazing, and she was so wet and warm around his fingers. He was leaking into his boxers, he could feel it. He knew part of it was from the tea, but he also knew how he felt about her. He had been dreaming of this moment since the day he met her, and he couldn’t believe it was finally happening. The tips of his fingers pet against her g-spot, and her hands fly to his hair to grip onto. He continues to suck on her clit, trying not to bust in his boxers too soon. She cries out as she comes around his fingers. She gets her shirt off while he rids himself of his boxers. He comes back down to hover over her. He licks into her mouth as her arms wrap around her his neck. He ruts his hard cock against her folds.

“Do you want me to wear a condom?” He asks her as he starts to knead her breasts.

“N-no.” She shakes her head. “Are you okay with that? I…I’m clean.”

“So am I. Are you on the pill, or something?”

“I have an IUD, so you can come inside me if you want.”

“Is that what you want?”

“We’re going to be able to go for multiple rounds, and I want you to fill me up each time.”

“Fuck.” He groans, and spreads her legs farther apart.

He rubs his tip along her clit before pushing inside. Her nails dig into his shoulders, her mouth falling open from the stretch he was giving her. Her heels dig into the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer to her. Her hands trail down his back until they reach his bum, sinking her nails into the plushy skin.

“You feel so fucking good.” She gasps as he thrusts in and out of her.

“So do you.” He groans. “You’re so fucking tight, don’t know how long I’ll last.”

“It doesn’t matter, you’ll get hard again.”

“Thought you said since we were taking care of it properly it won’t last quite as long?”

“It won’t last as long, but it’ll still last for bit.” She pulls his face down to hers to kiss him. “Let me get on top, yeah?”

He nods, and rolls them both over. She readjusts, and starts bouncing up and down on him. She throws her head back and scratches down his stomach. His hands find her hips, thrusting up into her to match her pace. He watches as her tits bounce up and down. He sits up a bit so he can suck on one of her nipples. Her clit rubs against him perfectly, and she’s coming again in no time. With another thrust, he come inside her, biting down on her shoulder in the process.

“You’re amazing.” He mutters into her neck. “I can feel how hard I still I am.” He groans as he looks up at her. “It’s like I’ve got a cock ring on or something.”

“I know, don’t worry, we’ll make it go away together.” She smiles and lifts herself off of him. “Um…there’s something I’m sort of into, and I was wondering if you might be too?”

“Well, what is it?”

“Could I…would you be comfortable if, I, uh, got behind you and lick you? Maybe use my fingers? I can conjure up some lube.”

Harry’s eyes visibly dilate, making Amber smirk.

“You have no idea how okay with that I am.”

“Yeah? Have you done it before?”

“No, but I’ve always wanted to. I think I actually have some lube here. Let me just double check my side table.” Harry eagerly leans over and reaches into his side table drawer. He finds a bottle of lube and tosses it to her. He gets onto his stomach for her, and she giggles as he wiggles his bum at her.

“M’gonna make you feel so good.” She says lowly, giving his bum a little smack before leaning down to spread him apart.

She licks a strip around his hole, swirling around his him. He grips the blankets on the bed, moaning and whimpering into his pillow as she suckled and slurped around his hole. She sits up for a moment to get some lube on her fingers. She starts with her middle finger, rubbing it around his rim, and then slowly slipping it inside him.

“Fuck.” He groans.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, feels good, don’t stop.”

Amber bites her bottom lip as she slips another finger inside him. She pumps them carefully, she didn’t want him to be in any sort of pain, this was supposed to be pleasurable. Her fingers get deep enough to reach a particular part inside of him. She reaches a hand around front to grip his throbbing cock.

“Doing so well, Harry.”

“Think you found my prostate, shit, feels so fucking good.” He grits his teeth as her thumb rubs over his tip. “M’gonnna come again, fuck!”

Amber presses his prick as close to his stomach as possible to make less of a mess as he comes. She slowly retracts her fingers from him, and lets him roll onto his back. He was sweaty and panting. She licks the palm of her hand that was full of his come, and then leans down to lick his stomach clean. His prick hardens back up instantly.

“Harry, I’m so wet, I almost came watching you enjoy yourself.” She says after licking her lips. “And your come tastes so good.” She pouts.

“I eat a lot of fruit.” He breathes. “Lay on your side for me.” He pats the spot next to him, and she does what he says. They get into a spooning position. She raises her leg a bit, and he slips inside.

“Oh, wow, you’re in so deep.” She arches into him. He grips her hip and starts moving in and out of her.

“Yeah? Like feeling me like this?”

“Yes.” She gasps when his fingers slip to her clit.

“You like it dirty, huh? You don’t like have vanilla sex.” He says into her ear, nipping at her lobe.

She moans out, unable to form an actual response. Once he gains a little more energy, he has her turn onto her stomach so he can fuck her properly from behind. He sits up on his knees, and starts pounding into her relentlessly.

“Oh my god!” She gasps. “Keep going, just like that!”

He grips the back of her neck with hand, and reaches around front to rub her clit with the other. He strokes are fast and deep, beating up her g-spot. She was chanting his name, and it was just egging him on more. He needed her to come again, and he needed her to come hard. As good as she felt, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to do it again after this.

“Want you to soak my sheets.” He growls. “Come all over my cock, Amber.”

“M’close, m’close!” She cries out.

Everything feels overwhelming all at once, and she finally lets go. He comes inside her at the same time, and does soak his sheets. His cock is absolutely drenched. He collapses next to her on the bed. He sighs with relief when he feels his cock actually start to soften.

“I have a spare set in the linen closet.” He says to her, and she giggles.

“Don’t bother, that was just the first session.”

“Um…what?”

“That was just the first session. You’ll probably come two more times.”

“But, that other time I only came three times.”

“Yeah, and it hurt, right? Did these last few hurt?”

“Not at all. Felt amazing.”

“We could 69 for the next one. You’re really good at going down.” She bites her bottom lip.

“Wouldn’t mind feeling your mouth around my cock either.”

“Seems like you’re almost ready again.” She looks down at his hardening cock.

“Fuck, please, come sit on my face.”

“You don’t want me to clean up first?”

“You just licked my asshole, I’m not too concerned about tasting my own come while it drips out of you.”

Amber whimpers and scrambles her way to hover over his face, leaning down over his cock so she can lick over his tip. Harry immediately starts sucking on her swollen clit, making her gasp before she’s able to wrap her lips around him. They went at for hours, switching between a number of positions, making an absolute mess of Harry’s sheets. Amber realizes that Penny must have given them a combination of the strawberry tea and the chocolate tea; that’s a strong combination. They couldn’t get enough of each other, and instead of being upset with Penny’s antics, they decided to just roll with it. Harry ate out Amber’s ass, she rode him reverse, he hit it from the side, they were like animals. He had scratch marks all over his chest and back, she was littered in bite marks, by the time the tea wore off, they were exhausted. Neither had the energy to magically make the sheets clean, so Harry stripped the bed while Amber helped make it back up. They fell asleep curled up with another completely naked.

Opal woke up to an empty apartment, to which she laughed. She headed down the stairs to go see Penny, and let her know their sneakiness paid off. The only thing was, there was no sign of Penny. Opal couldn’t get a scent on her.

“Oh, no.” Opal says to herself, and goes upstairs to Harry’s apartment. She scratches at his door. “Amber!”

Amber sits up quickly in bed. She wraps herself in one of Harry’s blankets and sprints to the door, rattling Harry awake.

“Come back to bed.” He groans, but she doesn’t hear him.

Amber opens the door, and Opal rushes in.

“What’s going on?” Amber asks her frantically.

“I’m sure you’re tired, and rightfully pissed off, but Penny didn’t show up this morning. I don’t even have a scent on her.”

“Shit.” Amber groans. “This has Max written all over it. He probably bagged her on her walk here this morning. Why she doesn’t just live here, I’ll never know.”

“What’s going on?” Harry asks them.

“Penny’s missing, get dressed.” Amber says firmly before snapping herself and Opal upstairs.

Harry wanted to talk to Amber about everything they did last night, take her to breakfast like he said he would. But Penny was missing, so that meant their nightmare from the night prior wasn’t over. He gets himself dressed and down to the shop. Amber was already waiting downstairs with Opal.

“Where do you think they took her?” Harry asks.

“I have an idea.” Amber sighs. “He probably sent those damn shadows after her.”

“Penny’s so experienced, I don’t understand.” Harry shakes his head.

“She’s old, Harry.” Opal says. “She wouldn’t stand a chance alone.”

Amber’s eyes start glowing out of nowhere, and she starts hovering in the air. Just as soon as it happens, she’s back on the floor.

“I know where she is, she just sent me a signal.” Amber says.

“I know where she is, she just sent me a signal.” Amber says. “It’s essentially a trap, they know we’re coming for her.” She looks down at Opal. “Are you strong enough for this?”

“I’ll have to be. Let’s go get her.”

Amber snaps them to where they need to be. Mac had the shadows take her to an old, abandoned building on the outskirts of town. Amber brought them just down the hall from where Penny was being kept. Harry had so many questions, but he knew now wasn’t the time. He stays close to Amber and Opal, walking down a dark corridor.

“Harry, stay with Opal. I’m going on the room.”

“I can’t let you go in there alone.” He tells her.

“I wasn’t asking.” She says before snapping herself into the room. Penny was chained up to a wall. “For the love of god.” Amber sighs before snapping her free.

“Behind you!” Penny shouts, and Amber gets zapped by what looks like red electricity. She gets knocked to the ground, but picks herself back up. Max’s eyes were glowing red.

“I told you that you had no idea what you did.” He grins evilly at her. “Give me the dog, now.”

“It’s me you want, not her. You have me, okay? Just take me.”

“The thing is…” He walks towards her. “I don’t have you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t be serious.” He scoffs. “You wreak of that dolt’s scent, Amber. What did you do, go home and fuck him to celebrate? I found this one because she was wearing one of your sweaters, thought it was you.”

Amber looks back at Penny with wide eyes. She had to have known that Max was going to come for her. Penny set the tea up so Harry’s scent would mix with Amber’s, and make her hard to find. Penny essentially sacrificed herself.

“And to think I was mad at you.” Amber smiles softly at Penny.

“I’d never trick you on purpose.” Penny says.

“Blah, blah, blah.” Max rolls his eyes. “Either way, I’ve lured you here.”

“What do you even want from me? Do you think forcing me into a relationship is going to be much fun?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Max chuckles. “You think you’re such a prize, but you’re not. I’ve had women far better than you. This really is about Opal, so hand her over.”

“No.”

Amber’s hands glow, and she strikes a blow at Max. He blocks it and sends it back to her.

“Like the new powers? My friends gifted them to me.” He grins.

“Red’s never been your color, sorry to say.”

They both run towards each other to duke it out. Shadows start to crowd around Penny, and she tries to deflect them, but she needs help. Harry and Opal storm in to help her. Harry’s able to zap them away. He looks over at Max, and runs towards him, striking him with a powerful blow. Amber’s eyes widen as she watches Harry try to face off with Max.

“Amber, get Opal and Penny home, now!”

“Harry, I’m not leaving you!”

“Go!”

“Listen to your foolish boy, Amber, you won’t want to see this.” Max says as he strikes Harry.

Amber fights back tears as she snaps herself, Penny, and Opal out of there. She starts crying because she knows she doesn’t have the strength to snap back right away.

“If I lose him, I…I don’t know what I’ll do.” She cries. “I finally opened up to him, and I-“

“Don’t waste your energy on panicking.” Penny says. “I tried to stop him so you wouldn’t have to worry. I wanted to ward him off, I’m sorry.”

“This isn’t your fault, it’s mine.” Opal says. “I was in the woods that night because I was following him. I had caught wind of dark magic usage, and my suspicions of it being him were true. I had no choice but to tell you.” She says to Amber.

Amber drops to her knees, and wraps her arms around Opal. Amber didn’t blame Opal for anything. This was all Max’s fault. She could feel herself getting angrier. She needed to know if Harry was alright.

“I have to get back to him. He can’t face Max on his own.” Amber looks up at Penny. “Do you think I’ll be able to do it?”

“You are the strongest girl I know. If anyone could muster up the energy to do this, it’s you. Don’t rely on the anger, rely on the love that feel for that boy.”

Amber wants to protest, but she couldn’t deny it. She loved Harry, a lot. She’d fallen for him, and she needed him to be okay. She takes a deep breath, and snaps herself back to where Harry is. She gasps once she’s back in that room. Harry was levitating Max in the air with his powerful green glow. He was holding Max in some sort of bubble.

“Harry!” Amber shouts.

“I’m okay! I don’t know how I’m doing this, but I’m okay!”

“Let me help!”

She blasts her blue glow up at Max, mixing with Harry’s. Max shouts this goulash sound, and a bright red light shines, filling the room. A loud explosion occurs, blasting Harry and Amber back. Max falls to the ground with a loud thud. Amber scrambles to her feet, and dusts herself off. Harry was totally knocked out. She wants to tend to him, but she has to make sure Max can’t do any more damage. She rushes over to him, and stands over him, nudging his body with her boot. His eyes flutter open, and he looks up at her.

“You’re so far gone.” She shakes her head. “You could have been such a wonderful mage, now look at you.”

“I’ve always envied you.” He says weakly. “You were given the best companion, one that could actually help you and bond with you. You’re one of the most powerful citrines out there. We could have been something together.”

“You ruined it. I feel nothing for you, absolutely nothing.”

“I can tell. Your heart belongs to that one.”

Amber steps on his chest, making him wince.

“And don’t you forget it. I showed mercy by taking your powers away. Walk away while you still can, or I won’t show you such kindness again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.”

She rushes back over to Harry, and immediately snaps them back to the shop. He was still unconscious. Penny and Opal crowd around the two of them.

“Harry, please wake up.” Amber whispers to him. “I need you to be okay, please, I need you.” She cries into his chest.

“Amber.” Penny puts her hand on Amber’s shoulder. “Let’s get him up into your bed. You have some things in your kitchen we can whip up to help him.”

Amber nods, and Penny snaps them all upstairs. Amber gets Harry tucked into her bed. His breathing was steadily, and his blood pressure was normal. He used so much energy to keep Max at bay, he must be so drained, especially after the night they had. All he wanted to do was take her to breakfast, Amber hoped they’d get the chance. She goes into her kitchen with Penny while Opal stays curled up next to Harry.

“So, what are we making?” Amber sighs.

“Here, crush these mint leaves up, I’m making a watermelon tea, so I’m reducing some watermelon over the stove to make a syrup. We’ll use the mint leaves for the tea itself.”

“What will this do? He can’t drink this if he’s not awake.”

“He’ll need it for when he wakes up. It’ll be like an energy boost.”

“How do we wake him up?”

“We don’t. He needs to sleep whatever this is off. You’ll be there when he wakes. I’m sorry again about last night. When you told me what Max did, I knew he’d try to find you today. I just wanted to help, and-“

“I understand why you did it. It’s okay.” Amber smiles softly. “It could have been worse. Please, sleep here tonight in my guest room.”

“Alright.” Penny nods. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Once the tea is done, Amber brings it into her room, sets it down on the side table closest to Harry, and crawls into bed. It was only the early afternoon, but she felt sleep pulling her in. She succumbs to it, letting her eyes droop as she rests her head on Harry’s chest.

Hours later, she stirs awake when she feels the weight shift in the bed a bit. She looks over to see Harry knuckling at his eyes, and sitting up. He looks at her and smiles softly.

“Hey.” He says.

“How are you feeling?” She asks, reaching to caress his cheek.

“M’alright. I woke up a little while ago, Opal had me drink the tea you made. She’s downstairs with Penny running the shop. I fell back asleep after I drank some of the tea.” He presses a kiss to her palm, and she smiles. “How are you?”

“Better now.” She sighs. “I’m glad you’re awake, I was worried. We got blasted backwards after our magic combined. I don’t know how you were able to hold him off for as long as you did.”

“He…he was trying to egg me on. He was saying all of these awful things about you, but I remember reading it wasn’t good to harness anger to make yourself more powerful, so I just sort of thought about how I wanted to keep you safe, how I wanted Opal to stay safe because I knew that if anything happened to her you’d be devastated.”

“I was really worried about you.” Her voice cracks, and her eyes widen. “I thought he was going to try to kill you. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t make it out of there.”

“Amber.” Harry cups her cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe her tears away. “I…I didn’t know you felt so strongly about me. We haven’t had a chance to talk about last night. I know we did a lot last night, and we had a bit more, um, gusto thanks to that tea, but everything I said to you last night I meant. I want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you too. I…I don’t want to know what it’s like to be without you. I was scared that I would. I know I pushed you away in the beginning, but I was fighting off something bigger than the two of us. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about someone before.” She looks down for a moment, and then back up at him. “I think…I think we were supposed to find each other, like, there was some sort of pull between us. I mean, there were plenty of other stores on this strip with vacant apartments, but you came into mine.”

“I always thought this stuff only happened in the books I’ve read, but it all sort of makes sense. I mean, I had no idea I was a mage, or whatever. Clearly, whatever this is inside of me was trying to bust out. And…amethysts are drawn to citrines, right?”

“Yeah, sometimes.” Amber smiles. “Usually, um, it’s a male citrine that goes for a female amethyst, not the other way around.”

“What about same sex couples?” He smirks.

“Same sex couples usually share the same gem, it’s rare if they don’t. I’m not sure what the science behind it is, you’d have to ask Penny.”

“Oh, is Penny…?”

“Mhm, she’s a widow, but her wife was the kindest woman. The two of them basically raised me.”

“What was her name?”

“Luna.” Amber smiles fondly. “They’re both garnets.”

“That’s really cool. I want to keep learning more about all of this; it’s so fascinating.”

“You’ll definitely learn more. I’ve got shelves upon shelves of books downstairs that you haven’t even touched yet.”

“Do you think I should tell my family about any of this?”

“God, no. Sometimes these things skip generations, they’d probably think you were nuts.” She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “We’ve digressed a bit, um, I feel really strongly about you.”

“I feel strongly about you too.”

“Like…I…I’m in love with you, Harry.”

“Oh, thank god.” He sighs with relief. “Feel like I fell in love with you from the second we met, but I’ve been trying really hard not to come on too strong. You’re not the biggest fan of romance.” He smirks.

“No, I’m not.” She leans in to peck his lips. “I’m the stoic one, and you’re the cinnamon roll.” She grins.

“Mm, your dirty talk is impeccable.” He rolls his eyes, and it makes her laugh.

“Let me continue. You’re the only one this stoic girl becomes soft for. You turn me into a little cinnamon roll, one of those really sweet ones with a ton of icing.”

Harry chuckles and leans in to kiss her. He sucks on her bottom lip, smiling into the kiss.

“Definitely sweet.” He mutters against her lips.

“We should probably get out of bed before we completely throw off our sleep schedules.”

“You’re right.” He sighs. “M’also starving. I don’t think I’ve eaten all day.”

“Same here.”

“I owe you a breakfast date.”

“It’s already past five, no restaurant would serve us breakfast right now.”

“Maybe not, but I’m sure I could whip something up. You got groceries?”

“Yeah, plenty of food in the kitchen.” She blinks. “You want to make us breakfast for dinner?”

“Mhm.” He kisses her again. “Do you like pancakes?”

“Love ‘em.” She nods.

“What about chocolate chip pancakes?”

“Those are my favorite.”

“Mine too.”

Turns out Harry made some of the best pancakes Amber ever had. After they ate, they went down to the shop to see how Opal and Penny were doing. Amber decided to close down early. Harry needed to finish up some homework, and make sure he had his lesson plans ready to go for tomorrow morning. It was weird getting back to reality, but it was a routine Amber was sort of craving. For so long their main focus was training to prepare for Max’s eventual strike. Amber couldn’t be certain that he wouldn’t try something again, but she looked him dead in the eyes when she threatened him. She saw fear, she could feel his fear. She wasn’t worried about him anymore, nor was she as worried about Opal. She could exhale for the first time in a while.

She had a new concern: Harry. Over the next couple of weeks, she wouldn’t let him sleep alone, which he didn’t mind one bit. Harry liked that Amber was being so affectionate towards him, he reveled in the attention. The kisses, the soft touches, the hugs, the smiles, everything Amber did, Harry loved. He couldn’t wait to finish up his office hours most days so he could get to the shop. Even though Amber had to work, Opal would still curl up at his feet, and Penny would drop off an extra biscotti at his table. Harry felt like he had formed this new little family. It made the little town he decided to call home actually start to feel like home. He even got to see how Amber made her many teas.

The only thing that wasn’t so great was that Harry’s student Whitney tended to keep him late, and Amber didn’t like it. She trusted Harry with her whole heart, but she didn’t quite like the idea of someone else thinking they could try to flirt with him. Whitney came into the shop all the time, Amber knew exactly who Whitney was. She was a senior, so not much younger than herself or Harry, but still, it wasn’t appropriate for a student to be so forward with her professor. So, much like with everything else, Amber took matters into her own hands.

One evening, Harry had made Amber a late dinner after she closed up the shop. After they ate, they made their way to his sofa. Harry thought they were going to just cuddle for a bit, but Amber had made her way into his lap, straddling him and running her fingers through his hair while she sucked on his neck. Normally, Harry would be more cautious about having a mark in such a public spot, but it was getting colder out, so he could wear a turtleneck or scarf to cover it up. He was also just enjoying her body on his too much to care. She was rolling her hips into his, and his hands were kneading her ass.

“What’s gotten into you tonight, huh?” He pants as her teeth really start to sink into his skin. “Not that I’m complaining.”

She pops off him with loud, wet noise, catching her breath as she looks at the red mark forming on his neck. She runs her thumb over it in hopes that it’ll turn a delightful dark purple.

“You just smell so good, you know your cologne drives me wild.” She says as she latches back onto his neck. He moans out as she nips at his skin. She rolls her hips down in a way that grins her center right over his bulge.

“Fuck, Amber, can we move this to the bedroom? M’about ready to explode here.” He groans, squeezing harder at the skin on her hips. She tugs his head more to the side to make the mark even bigger. “Can mark me up all over, yeah?”

“Mm, that sounds nice.” She mumbles into his neck, and kisses her way over to his lips. “Maybe we could take a quick shower, and I could lick you all over too.” She wiggles her eyebrows at him, and his eyes visibly darken.

“Should make you dinner more often.”

Harry was on cloud nine the next day at school. He couldn’t stop smiling even if he tried. Amber made good on her promise to lick him all over, especially where he liked it most. He liked that they both enjoyed a good tonguing, and he liked that they were so good at taking turns. He wasn’t even mad about how fucked up his neck looked. Harry knew what Amber was doing, she was clearly marking her territory, and he didn’t mind one bit. If he wasn’t into her dominant personality, he wouldn’t be with her. The sweater he was wearing covered up most of it anyways, and his students never seemed to hide the marks on their necks, so what was the big deal, really?

After he finishes his classes for the day, he heads to his office for his office hours. He dives into the papers he needed to grade. He assigned a ten-page paper for his fiction workshop, and now he was regretting it. He got about a third of the way through his stack when Whitney came to his office.

“Hi, Professor Styles.” She smiles.

“Hey, Whit.” He smiles back. “I’m actually glad you’re here, could use your help.”

“With what?”

“I have a ton of grades to put into a spreadsheet from my physical gradebook. Think you could do that for me?”

“Sure!”

Harry unhooks his laptop from the docking station so she could dive into the spreadsheet he started. Things were quiet for a bit, but she was having trouble reading his writing. Harry had horrible penmanship.

“Professor Styles, I can’t read this.” She says, getting up from her seat and walking over to him. She leans over him slightly, and points to some of his scribbles. “See, I can’t tell if that’s an 87 or an 81.” Her cleavage was practically spilling into his face. He was about to say something, but someone else beat him to it.

“Maybe you should get your eyes checked.” They both look up to see Amber leaning against the door frame.

“Hey!” Harry smiles brightly, and Whitney stands up straight. “Amber, this is Whitney, one of my students. Whitney, this is my girlfriend, Amber.”

“Girlfriend, oh…um…I didn’t realize you were seeing someone, Professor Styles.”

“Course you did, how else would he have gotten that mark on his neck.” Amber smirks. “Now, why don’t you do everyone a favor and put your tits away because he’s not going to suck on them, alright?”

“Amber.” Harry looked mortified.

Whitney looked frightened, and she was speechless. She quickly gathers her things and walks out of Harry’s office. Harry stands up and goes to close his door. He was upset, Amber could tell.

“What?” Amber asks.

“You can’t talk to one of my students like that!”

“Why not? She was practically shoving her tits in your face, and you were letting it happen.”

“I was about to tell her to back off, but then you showed up. Why are you even here?”

“I came to surprise you, but I can see I’m unwanted. Why was she even here?”

“She comes to help me most days after class. She was working on a spreadsheet for me. And you’re not unwanted, you just don’t come to see me here often. It would have been a nice surprise if you hadn’t come in guns hot.” He puts his hands on his hips and looks at her. “Are you seriously jealous?”

“I can’t help that I feel protective over you. I don’t like that other people think you could be theirs when you’re mine.”

“And to think you didn’t want anything to do with me just a few months ago.” He smirks.

“That joke stopped being funny after the first time you made it.” She rolls her eyes, and stops towards him. Harry was just under a foot taller than Amber, and yet she commanded every room she walked into. She grips the collar of his sweater and tugs him down to her face, her eyes glowing.

“You’re so sexy when you’re like this.” He wraps his arms around her, lifting her up and sitting her down on his desk. “But don’t think it gives you a pass for acting like that. You need to be nice. She’s one of your customers, remember? You’re nice all the time at the shop, why can’t be nice where I work?” He pouts.

“Because no one flirts with me at my place of business.”

“Oh, please.” He scoffs. “I’d be a very rich man if I had a dollar for every time I’ve caught someone checking you out.”

“That’s totally different. No one’s shoving a part of their body in my face.” She pouts back at him. “Why does someone so pretty have to be one of your frequent flyers?”

“Okay, let’s get something straight. The only tits I want shoved in my face are yours.” He plants his hands on either side of her thighs, getting nice and close to her face. “And even though Whitney might be pretty, no one could ever compare to how incredibly beautiful you are.”

He always knew exactly how to melt her heart. He leans in to kiss her, sucking on her bottom lip, and licking into her mouth. Her hands move up to his chest, tugging on his sweater to pull him closer. She wraps her legs around his waist, and slowly lowers herself back onto his desk. He follows her, helping her keep her legs around him.

“Wait.” She pants as he kisses down her neck. “Go lock your door.”

“Shit, you’re right.” He says, quickly going over to the door to lock it, and then going back to her. “This is going to hurt your back, do you wanna do it on my chair, on the loveseat?”

“I really want you on top.” She whines.

“Yeah? Want me to be in control right now?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s sit on the loveseat, even if you’re on top, I’ll thrust up into you.” He kisses her. “I’ll rub your clit.” He kisses her again. “Suck on your glorious tits.”

“Fuck, okay, just get my clothes off.” She huffs.

He picks her up, and undoes her jeans quickly. He tugs them down, along with her underwear. Harry drops his own pants and rips his sweater off. Amber gets her jacket off and wraps her arms around his neck. Harry tugs her back to the loveseat, turning her around so she’ll sit on him reverse. He pumps his cock a few times before lining himself up with her. Her jeans were around her ankles since she didn’t bother to take her boots off, so things felt a little tighter than usual; neither of them were complaining.

He bites down on her shoulder, and her head rolls back into his chest. His hands grip Amber’s hips, and he starts thrusting up into her. They needed to be quick and quiet, so he takes one of his hands and it brings it up to her mouth so she could suck on his fingers. Her eyes roll back as she sucks on his digits. His other hand slips between her thighs so his fingers could work her clit. She moans around his fingers from the sheer pleasure. His tip was pummeling her g-spot, and his fingers were working magic – excuse the pun. His palm was pressing into her bladder, and she was starting to panic. She didn’t want to make a mess of his loveseat.

“Can feel you squeezing around me.” He says into her hear, nipping at her lobe.

“H-Harry, I-“ She mumbles around his fingers.

“Hm? What’s the matter, gonna make a mess?”

“Mhm.” She whines.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” He stops all motions immediately, and lifts her off of him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” She asks as he grabs a tissue to come into.

“You said you wanted me in control.” He says as he pulls his pants back up. “Can’t have you squirting all over my office. I’ll take care of you when I finish work for the day.” He smiles and kisses her forehead.

“Harry, this isn’t funny.”

“M’not trying to be, Babe.” He helps her pull her own pants back up. “I have a lot to do, and since you sent my little worker bee away, I may be here a little later than usual. I’ll come to your place when I’m done.”

“You’re sure you wanna play this game with me?” She asks as she puts her jacket back on. “I don’t think you’re prepared for what you’re coming home to by denying me of an orgasm.”

“I’ll take my chances.” He smirks. “I can’t have you thinking you deserve a reward for acting up in my office.” He pecks her lips and opens his door. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

She narrows her eyes at him, looks him up and down, and nods.

“Okay.”

Harry felt a chill run through him as she left. Maybe he should have let her come.

Harry wasn’t kidding when he said he had a lot of work to do. He didn’t get home until after the shop closed. He drops his things off in his apartment before going up to Amber’s. She was sitting on her couch watching TV when he came in.

“Hey, Baby, sorry I’m back so late. Where’s Opal?”

“Staying with Penny tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Told her we needed some alone time.” She stands up and walks over to him, giving him a slow kiss on the cheek.

“Huh.” He swallows. “Well, we’re alone now.” He puts his hands on her hips. “Did you, uh, take care of yourself at all?”

“I’ll admit, I almost did just to spite you, but I thought it would ruin the fun.” She slides her hands up his chest. “That being said, I’m not quite in the mood for you to be so in control anymore.”

“What a relief.” He sighs. “M’exhausted, I don’t think I could keep up the façade of being so in charge right now.” He pouts at her and she giggles.

“You made a very good point earlier. I shouldn’t have spoken to your student like that. Bring some coupons with you tomorrow to give her as an apology, but make no mistake, if she keeps hitting on you I will not hesitate to fuck her up.”

“I can live with that. She’ll only be my student for another month or so.” He presses his forehead to hers. “So, what would like to do instead of playing games tonight?”

“I’d very much appreciate it if you ate me out for a bit. You denied me of what would have been a rather powerful orgasm and I think you should make up for it.”

“Fair enough. Then will you go back to bouncing on my cock the way you were? Felt so nice.”

She nods, and takes his hand to lead him to the bedroom. She takes her night shirt off, revealing her naked body to him.

“You’re wicked.” He grins. “Lounging around with that glorious bum of yours out for anyone to see.”

“Good thing I was home alone.” She grins, and gets onto the bed, spreading her legs open for him. She snaps her fingers to light the candles in the room.

Harry rids himself of his clothes, and knees onto the bed. He kisses on her belly, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind as he makes his way between her thighs. He hooks his arms around her thighs and dives in. He sucks on her clit immediately, making her moan out. She cards her fingers through his hair as he eats her like he hasn’t eaten in days. The noises he makes as he sucks and licks on her are filthy, and they only spur Amber on more with her moans and whimpers.

“Oh my god, Harry.” She whimpers. “You’re so fucking good, Baby, so fucking good.” She was near tears. His tongue was so wet and warm, fucking in and out of her. “Fuck, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, Harry!” She comes hard on his tongue, and he laps it up, moaning at how good she tastes.

“Fucking hell.” He breathes when he sits up. “Do you want me to give you another this way?”

“God, you’re insatiable.” She groans. “Please, I need you inside me now.”

Harry sits up against the headboard, and Amber sits on him reverse she like had earlier in the day. This time they could both be as loud as they wanted, and this time Harry could grope freely at her breasts. She uses her knees to move up and down on him. She was moving fast, wanting him to fill her up. He uses one of his hands to rub circles into her clit.

“Amber.” He moans into her ear, thrusting up into her. “You’re so fucking wet for me, feels amazing.”

“Only ever want your cock, no one else’s.” She had never said anything like that to him before. “Don’t want anyone else ever again.”

“Fuck, I don’t want anyone else either. M’all yours.”

“Yes!” She gasps as she comes around him. He follows right after, filling her up. “Yes.” She whispers.

“Are you all mine?” He whispers into her ear before kissing on her cheek and shoulder.

“Mhm.” She relaxes into him, and looks up his face, admiring his features. “You’re all I want.”

“You’re all I want too. I’m so glad we found one another.” He wraps his arms tightly around her.

“So am I.” She sighs happily.

Eventually, she gets off of him, and they both clean themselves up before getting into bed. Harry tells Amber about his classes and coursework, and she tells him about some of the funny customers that came in that day. They lay there giggling and chatting, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Harry?” She asks as she traces over his tattoos with her finger tips.

“Hm? What is it, my love?”

“You mean the world to me, I hope you know that.” She snuggles into his chest. “Jealousy is quite ugly, but when I love, I love hard. It’s just who I am.”

“I’m so honored that you’ve welcomed me into your small circle. I see the way you are with Opal and Penny, the love you have for them radiates off you. I can feel what you feel for me.”

“And I can feel what you feel for me.”

“We’re connected.” He says, and kisses the top of her head.

“We are.” She nods. “And it feels wonderful.”

#something wicked #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles x oc #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #professor!harry #mage!harry

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luvspence · 3 years

Text

contact names

spencer reid x reader

synopsis: a love story told through contact names

word count: 1.5k

———

“hi dr. reid, or u-um spencer? is that all right? can i call you by your first name? i was wondering if i could get your number, so we could have a line of communication and all”

you stood in front of him, smiling brightly. this was your first jet ride of your first case. you believed first impressions were important, and a little more important when that first impression was with him

you’d gone to the same college as him, given you went around 12 years after he did, and his name was always brought up. when you were a criminal justice major and cal tech, spencer reid was a name that was hard to not know. you studied his analysis, you read his doctoral papers, and you admired him from a far. just an alumni, smart one, cute one at that, but just an alumni, someone to learn from

okay so maybe you had a crush on him, but of course you didn’t that was ridiculously, you’d never even met the man

but there you were, somehow you fought your way through school, the academy, and the baus hiring process, and you went from admiring learner, to colleague

he was beautifully perched on the edge of the jet seat, staring down at the chess set, playing against himself

“oh hello, and spencer is quite fine. just appreciative to be called anything other than morgan’s chosen nick name of ‘pretty boy’. i mean i guess it is a compliment? well it feels degrading in a sense, i digress,,”

he chuckled awkwardly

when he was nervous, he rambled, and you made him nervous

he and garcia had thoroughly researched you before you had joined

you were top of your class at cal-tech, top of your class at the academy, your published work was astonishing for someone your age, you had numerous letters of recommendation from highly regarded professors

you were nothing short of excellent, and nothing short of beautiful

long hair with bangs that perfectly framed your face, dimples on both of your cheeks, a smile that could light up any room you walked into

so needless to say, spencer already had a crush on you before you walked through the bau doors

“ and oh i’m regarding that phone number, let me...”

he shuffled through his satchel, files, books, tea bags and granola bar wrapper being pushed a side in search of his business card

“shoot, i can’t find it, here”

he pulled his phone out

“why don’t your enter your number, and i’ll text you so that you can save the contact as well?”

“oh perfect!”

you grabbed his phone typing in your number, and handing it back

“t-thank you!”

you turned to walk away

“oh wait! could you spell your last name for me? i wouldn’t want to get it wrong”

you spelled it out, he typed in the letters into his phone

now you were officially in his phone as plainly

“y/n l/n”

—

you guys quickly went from colleagues to friends

ever since that first text that spencer sent to share his number, you two were inseparable

carpooled to work and back

sat next to each other on the jet

office spaces next to each other

coffee “dates”

hotel slumber parties during cases

friday night game night traditions

endless conversations

book recommendations

and of course

a blinding amount of romantic tension

a couple months into you working at the bau you were sitting on spencer’s desk, him reclined in his chair

“i’m telling you! i’m amazing at gin rummy”

“mhm okay”

you hit him playfully with a file

“mhm? what is that supposed to mean? do you doubt my skills?”

“no not at all, i just know i’d crush you”

you raised an eyebrow

“okay dr reid? you wanna go?”

he pulled a deck of cards out of his drawer

“i’ll deal”

he said, shuffling the cards

7 rounds later, you had beat him by 27 points

“HA!”

he looked down in defeat

“HA HA HA!!!!”

“i let you win”

“UNTRUE UNTRUE! you knocked and were so confident that you had won, but guess what? I HAD GIN” you laughed un controllably while spenxer rolled his eyes

“they don’t call me y/n “gin rummy god” l/n for nothing!”

he perched his face in his hands, staring up at your giggly face that still remained seated on his desk

“who calls you that”

“everyone! and now you have to!”

he laughed, pulled out his phone went to his contacts

he typed in

“y/n “pretty okay at gin rummy” l/n”

he showed you the screen

“happy?”

you squinted in to read it

“very”

———-

it didn’t take very much longer until you and spencer were dating

it happened one day on the jet, you were flying home and while sitting next to spencer instinctually laid your head on his shoulder

that wasn’t too abnormal, but spencer bent his neck down to kiss you softly on the forehead

you looked at him

he looked at you

finally an action that couldn’t be written off as platonic

with scared eyes he looked at you, looking like he had just committed a grave crime

as he had forgotten that you two were not dating, you had forgotten that the entire team was also on that jet

so you grabbed his face and kissed him, kissed him long, gently wrapping your arms around his neck, until you heard an “ahem” from derek

“finally”

he laughed, you and spencer just stared at each other an also burst into laughter, and from then on, you were his girl, his love, his object of adoration, his lady

—-

3 months into your relationship, spencer had gotten a concussion

he was okay, just unable to fly

you were about to board the jet, face buried in spencers shoulder

“i don’t have to go spencer”

“yes, yes you do”

“i don’t want to leave you”

“y/n i will survive, and it’s not like i’m gonna be alone in the office, i’ll be consulting virtually through garcia”

you pressed a kiss to his lips

“okay, i’ll miss you”

“miss you too”

you let go of his hand and jogged up to emily who was boarding the plane

“you two are vile” she said laughing

“not funny!”

the case was tough, even tougher with spencer not around

though he and garcia made quite the duo

“hey spencer could you call y/n for me? i’m on this line with derek”

“yeah of course”

he pressed your contact on his favorite list

your name saved as “m’lady”

garcia noticed immediately

“m’lady?! M’LADY??? if you two aren’t the cutest pair of 18th century literature nerds i don’t know what is”

he giggled, you picked up the phone

“spence?”

garcia started shouting

“Y/N YOU SUcK! YOU AND YOUR PERFECT ADORABLE RELATIONSHIP WITH CUTE LITTLE CONTACT NAMES! HAVE SOME MERCY FOR THE SINGLE PEOPLE HUH?”

you started to laugh

“garcia do you have that list of names i asked for?”

——-

4 years, 1 built in library, and 3 cats later

spencer knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you

it was a warm saturday, and you and spencer went to the museum of natural sciences

you were standing in front of the aquatic birds exhibit

you were reading the swan description

“swan, largest waterfowl species of the subfamily anserinae, family anatidae. most swans are classified in the genus cygnus. swans are gracefully long-necked, heavy-bodied, big-footed birds that glide majestically when swimming and fly with slow wingbeats and with necks outstretched. swans mate for life, and can actually die from heart break if their partner dies, interesting”

“yeah, swans are usually a symbol of love and marriage”

“how sweet, such romantic birds”

spencer took your hand

“i’m gonna love you forever, just like these swans”

he kissed your forehead

“forever and ever spence?”

he got down on one knee

“forever and ever”

you wanted to wait until the perfect moment to tell the team, refraining from wearing your ring until you two could figure it out, but by an unfortunate accident, they secret was out

“hey y/n, i didn’t get a chance to save your number earlier, would you mind?”

an officer at the local precinct was asking you, as to have a more direct way of contact

the entire team was sitting around a table as you typed your number into the officers phone

“oh and y/n i’m sorry how do you spell your last name”

“r-e-i-d, reid”

you froze

in most of your circles you already started going by spencer’s last name, this detail slipped your mind

derek was the first to say something

“WHAT”

then emily

“YOU TWO?”

you and spencer looked at each other

“okay, we’re in engaged”

the entire team started hugging and cheering, the rest of the precinct joining in

“so when were you planning to tell us?” hotch asked with a raised eyebrow

you laughed

“would you believe me if i said that contact name incident was planned?”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fluffy #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x y/n #cm #mgg #gubler #matthew gray #matthew gray gubler #mgg fluff #mgg fic #spencer reid fic

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deniigi · 3 years

Note

Hi Dr. Matt! I absolutely adore all your verses, they are beautifully written and comforting in a very real-life way. I am here to seek academic wisdom however! I am an undergrad who hopes to apply to grad school next year. I feel kind of behind in academia tho. What are your top suggestions to try and accomplish in undergrad to get into a good graduate program? I have a high GPA but my school is kind of lacking on the research front. I am first gen college in my family and kinda struggling :^)

Hi Anon!

1) No need to feel behind in Academia. We have a toxic culture that already makes everyone feel behind enough as it is ❤ If I could give any potential grad student one piece of advice it would be not to partake in that sort of grind/perpetually-catching-up culture.

2) these are great questions! And it all comes down to the type of institution you are applying to for graduate school and what you are applying for (Masters of Arts, Masters of Science, PhD, etc).

There are different levels of schools, although it's never really explained what they are (hidden curriculum like WOAH).

Essentially you have state-level schools like a state universities, private institutions like Brown or Rice, and then like hyper liberal institutions like the Open University.

If you want to do a PhD, I'm not gonna lie: it often pays to do it at a high-level research institution like the University of California or Yale or Rutgers etc. But if you're looking to do an Masters and don't have plans to get into academia (for example, you need the Masters for the job you want like to go into counseling or to become a professional artist), then it is WAY WAY cheaper to do that shit at a state university or the hippie equivalent in your area (lookin' at you, Open Uni. It's okay babe, if I had to do another master's I'd pick you every time).

So depending on the institution(s) you're applying to, your preparation requirements will change.

Generally speaking, if you're going into an MA or MS at a mid-level university, then you don't actually need to have that much research experience.

Here is what a typical Master's application requires from you:

Application

Writing Sample

CV/Resume

2-3 Letters of Recommendation (1-2 from Academic sources like professors preferred)

Possibly a personal statement, this varies from school to school.

Possibly GRE scores. Also varies from school to school.

In terms of building up your CV to be competitive: maybe a conference or publishing a paper in a student journal your last year would be good, but you don't have to like, be published in Nature or some shit.

If you can join a few academic honor societies (example, for history we have Phi Alpha Theta: https://phialphatheta.org/ go ahead and google your field + university-level honor society to see what you can join) and get involved with doing assistant research work for a professor or the library or a local institution, that will help too.

What you for sure want to do for sure if you're planning on doing an MA, is to try to write at least one long/significant research paper your final year of undergrad so that you'll have a writing sample for your chosen institutions. The more feedback you get on that sample, the better. This is where the Admissions folks are going to gauge your research skills. A lot of people just use papers they wrote for class and they tweak them a little before submission.

Now, let's say that you're a fucking beast who's trying to go straight from Undergrad to PhD (which I don't actually recommend btw, but that's a whole different conversation), in this case, you want to do everything outlined above but harder. And on top of that, you want to be really sure to start looking at potential funding sources. PhDs in the US will sometimes only accept you if you demonstrate you have money or are going to come into money. But under NO circumstance would I ever recommend self-funding your PhD.

There is not one good reason to do this. I don't give a singular shit what anyone has to say. If you aren't paid to do your PhD, don't do it.

That being said, you can take out loans for your Masters, but a lot of schools have scholarships and fellowships that you can earn during your masters to help you pay for tuition etc. Just be aware that Masters-level programs are rarely covered by Subsidized financial aid.

What that means is that when you complete your FAFSA in the US, many students are awarded money that they do not have to pay back (these are often called grants). These grants are very seldom available to people pursuing post-graduate degrees, so expect to be offered loan money and work out how you're going to pay for everything else (for example there are scholarships for folks who want to become STEM teacher or internal scholarships for folks who demonstrate strong academic progress once they're in their departments. I funded my MA via loans, getting merit fellowships and working part-time).

If you want more specific advice, I'm happy to help more, but these are probably some of the more important things to be aware of/get involved with if you're planning on grad school. Let me know if you want me to cover any additional issues!

#not fic #academia #gradschool #Seriously don't fucking do a phd if you aren't funded your future ego boost isnt worth the mental anguish and the debt #the only reason I did a phd is because I got what amounted to a fullride

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didanawisgi · 3 years

Link

“If you've ever seen a petunia with artfully variegated petals, then you've seen transposons at work. The flower's showy color patterns are due to transposable elements, or DNA sequences that can move locations within a genome. Yet when it comes to transposons' effects on humans, the results might not be as lovely or desirable.

As researchers learn more about these so-called mobile genetic elements, they've found increasing evidence that transposons influence and even promote aging and age-related diseases like cancer as well as neurogenerative and autoimmune disorders, says John Sedivy, a professor of biology and director of the Center on the Biology of Aging at Brown. Sedivy is the corresponding author of a new review article in Nature that discusses the latest thinking and research around transposons.

"Let's put it this way: These things can be pretty dangerous," said Sedivy. "If they are uncontrolled, and there are many examples of that, transposons can have profound consequences on most forms of life that we know of."

Since the dawn of life, the researchers noted, transposons have coevolved with their host genomes, but it's been more of a competitive existence than a peaceful one, earning them the nicknames of "junk DNA" and "molecular parasites." Transposons were first discovered in corn by the Nobel prize-winning geneticist Barbara McClintock in the 1940s, who also found that depending on where they inserted into a chromosome, they could reversibly alter the expression of other genes.

It is now quite apparent that the genomes of virtually all organisms, including humans, contain repetitive sequences generated by the activity of transposons. When these elements move from one chromosome or part of a chromosome to another, they amplify and increase their presence in genomes, sometimes to dramatic levels. According to Sedivy, "about half of the human genome is due to the activity of these molecular parasites." Their unregulated activity can have long-term benefits by increasing genetic diversity in organisms, but in most cases the chaos degrades cell function, such as by disrupting useful genes.

Most of what is known about transposons, said Sedivy, comes from genome sequence data that shows their activity in the germline, or throughout successive generations of an organism. However, recent research, including from Sedivy and other scientists at Brown, has revealed a wealth of information on transposon activity during the lifetime of a single individual, as well.

In an interview, Sedivy discussed the mechanisms driving transposons, how their activity influences and promotes age-related tissue degeneration and disease—and what can be done to fight back.

Q. Transposons are mobile genetic elements. How and why do they move?

There are two main groups: 'DNA transposons' move using a DNA intermediate in a 'cut and paste' mechanism, and retrotransposons move using a 'copy and paste' mechanism that involves an RNA intermediate. Thirty five percent of the human genome is comprised of retrotransposon DNA sequences. The reason they move is to survive; it allows them to relocate to and increase their presence in their hosts. You can think of transposons as viruses —there are some viruses that are, in fact, transposable elements. HIV (human immunodeficiency virus) is a perfect example because it uses the retrotransposition mechanism to insert itself into the genome, and then lets the host cell do the replication for it. This means that unless you kill all the cells that HIV has infected, you can't get rid of it. That's what retrotransposons do, too. They live in the genome, including the germline so that eggs and sperm carry these genetic elements and pass them along to future generations.

Q. Scientists have known about these rogue genetic elements for awhile, but transposons are an increasingly important area of study. You are the principal investigator of a collaborative project funded by the National Institutes of Health to examine retrotransposon activity. In addition, the NIH has recently issued a call for grant applications to further explore how this activity contributes to aging and Alzheimer's. What caused this renewal in interest?

Transposons have been studied quite extensively, one important impact in medicine being their role in propagating antibiotic-resistance genes in bacteria. The level of activity in an individual human body, over a single lifetime, was thought to be quite low and of minimal consequence. It's now become quite obvious that's not the full story.

Q. What role to transposons play in the aging process?

First of all, it's important to realize that aging is not an active process. While it might seem that you're programmed to deteriorate, aging is in fact a successive sequence of failures. Cellular processes and mechanisms become more error-prone over time. Cancer, for example, is a disease of aging because at some point, a fatal error is committed which then propagates and leads to disease. As biologists who study aging, we applied the error and failure theory to retrotransposable elements – and discovered that's exactly what was happening. It's now widely appreciated that over a lifespan, these elements become more active in somatic tissues—there's very good evidence that this is happening. There are multiple surveillance mechanisms that our cells use to keep these elements under control and suppress their activity; several layers of active defense that are necessary to keep the retrotransposons under wraps, so to speak. It appears that aging, or senescent, cells lose some of their ability to control the activity of retrotransposons. The defense mechanisms no longer work as well.

Q. What is the connection between retrotransposons and Alzheimer's?

The aging brain of a person with Alzheimer's already shows a significant amount of damage. There's also reasonably good evidence that the brain, for some reason, is a particularly permissive site for retrotransposon activity, so the retrotransposons can basically have a field day in that tissue because there's very little that can stop them. So they promote further damage. This is a major topic in our recent review article in Nature. The question becomes: What can be done to limit the activity of these elements?

Q. What has your research shown about pharmaceutical interventions for retrotransposon activity in the brain?

The first class of HIV/AIDS drugs, called reverse transcriptase inhibitors, are effective against retrotransposons in humans. As I mentioned earlier, HIV is actually a retrotransposon. The key enzyme that HIV uses to replicate, its reverse transcriptase, is the same enzyme that all other retrotransposons use—it's an integral part of their life cycle. Now, even though these enzymes are evolutionarily related, that doesn't necessarily mean that a drug against one will work against the other. But we discovered that a small subset of HIV/AIDS reverse transcriptase inhibitors are actually quite effective against an important class of retrotransposons called LINE-1. In a paper published in 2019 in Nature, we found that the generic HIV drug lamivudine significantly reduced age-related inflammation and other signs of aging in mice. The next step would be to look at the effects in humans.

Q. Can you talk about the Alzheimer's clinical trial you are working on with Dr. Stephen Salloway, associate director for the Brown Center for Alzheimer's Disease Research?

I work on the basic science side, looking at the cellular and molecular processes, and Stephen Salloway is working on the clinical side, testing interventions with patients. We are currently involved in a randomized, double-blind clinical trial to test the effects of a daily oral dose of an HIV retroviral drug on participants with mild dementia due to Alzheimer's disease. The drug, emtricitabine, is also a reverse transcriptase inhibitor—it's a newer generation of the same class of drugs as lamivudine, and shows better tolerability and fewer side effects in humans. Because this is a repurposing trial—using a drug for a purpose other than what it's been prescribed for—the first thing that needs to be addressed is safety. This drug is approved and is currently being used to treat HIV/AIDS in millions of people, but safety and tolerability need to be tested in a geriatric population with mild dementia due to Alzheimer's disease. That's the primary objective of this trial, which we'll be starting at Butler Hospital very soon.

Q. In which other diseases or conditions can retrotransposons be implicated?

The body's immune system recognizes retrotransposons as viruses and mounts an immune response. This immune response is inappropriate, given that retrotransposons are part of our genomes, and there is good evidence that retrotransposons are linked to autoimmune diseases. A pro-inflammatory role of retrotransposons has been noted in rheumatoid arthritis, systemic lupus, erythematosus (SLE) and Sjogren's syndrome.

Q. Where is the research headed?

As we noted in the review article, much work remains to be done on the basic biology side to understand the mechanisms and consequences of retrotransposon activation in people. We also made the point that there is also a need for a more holistic view of how aging mechanisms contribute to disease—and vice versa. We know a fair amount about retrotransposon activation in senescent cells, but much less about the extent and mechanism of activation in most of the mature cells in our bodies, such as neurons or myocytes. As for potential therapy, nucleoside reverse transcriptase inhibitors have shown early promise, and there is hope that these can be repurposed for Alzheimer's and dementia as well as other conditions. It's an exciting time to be working in this field.

More information: Vera Gorbunova et al, The role of retrotransposable elements in ageing and age-associated diseases,Nature (2021). DOI: 10.1038/s41586-021-03542-y Journal information: Nature

#retrotransposons #LINE-1 #reverse transcription #parasite eve #epigenetics #genetics #family medicine #fav #Aging #anti-aging #print this off later

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ikingsley · 3 years

Text

Ina x MC: Sabbatical (Part 1)

Summary: A miscommunication causes a rift between Ina and Luna.

Warnings: ANGST! Slightly mature themes as well.

Tag: @samanthadalton

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

Author’s Notes: First part of a two-parter written at the request of @kwaj05. For context, Luna and Ina are secretly together!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was late into the evening when Ina found out that her sabbatical had been granted, and she was ecstatic. As soon as she read that article that said people in New Orleans were the strangest, she knew she had to visit. She’d been dying for an opportunity like this. She could pursue her research passions whilst still being paid. Plus, she wouldn’t have to deal with annoying students. Oh. Students. Luna.

Luna finally dawned on her. And Ina’s heart broke a little. Devastation ran through her body. Ina didn’t know how she was going to break the news to Luna.

She paced up and down her office, that was scattered with half-empty boxes, trying to think of lines that would soften the blow.

At the sound of a small knock, Ina looked up to find the one person her brain tormented over. Luna was near the entrance of Ina’s office, her small frame leaning against the doorway.

“Yo! What’s up Professor?” Luna asked cheekily.

“Ms. Garcia,” Ina smiled.

But Luna saw how her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. Then she noticed the boxes strewn across the floor. Her own smile dissipated quickly. Luna felt a sense of anguish coursing through her body. Something was wrong. And it was something big.

“Ina, what’s happening?” Luna asked. Luna was torn. One part of her screamed for the answer to that question to quell her rising anxiety; the other half wanted to leave it unanswered.

“Uh-” Ina began. “Luna, take a seat please,” Ina said as she gestured towards the two chairs that sat at the back of her office.

Ina was the first one to ‘sit’ on the chair - it was more like she had collapsed onto it. She sighed heavily, struggling to find the words to explain the situation to Luna. The two sat in silence, with Luna mulling over what she had seen in the office. Had Ina been fired? Had the two been discovered? Luna was almost brought to tears by this thought. It was near impossible to process that their forbidden relationship had possibly come to an end because of a social taboos and constructs.Through cloudy eyes, Luna looked up to ask Ina if they had been discovered.

“Heh, no we haven’t,” Ina chuckled as she continued to stare at the floor. She then looked up to see Luna, and her laughter ceased as soon as she saw Luna’s somber face. Luna could still tell something was wrong.

“Ina. Please. What’s wrong?” Luna redirected the conversation.

Ina sighed. She couldn’t procrastinate any longer. “I...I got an opportunity. In New Orleans.”

And everything finally made sense. Ina’s tired, half-hearted smiles, the boxes...

At first, Luna smiled. She was happy for Ina. Ina worked tirelessly grading tests, writing papers, doing things for Luna...She deserved this opportunity.

“Why do you seem sad about it?” Luna asked. “It’s a sabbatical. For an entire year,” Ina said solemnly.

Ina’s statement finally sunk in. Ina would be gone for a whole year, away from Luna. And the likelihood that the relationship would last long distance was close to none. Luna was far too clingy and touchy-feely for a long distance relationship. And deep down, both women knew it.

And again, the two sat in silence. Neither knowing what was to come of their relationship. After a long period of silence, Luna couldn’t not ask. She had to know, even if it was the last thing she ever did.

“When?” Luna asked. “I found out I got it just before you came,” Ina replied. Ina saw in Luna’s eyes that that wasn’t her question. “Oh, when do I leave?” Ina tried to recognize. “I’m scheduled to leave in two weeks,” Ina said, answering her own question. Again, Ina hadn’t answered Luna’s question.

“No, when? Like, when did you apply for this? Were we together already?” Luna asked. Ina hadn’t thought about an answer to this. She struggled to find coherent words to put together. “I...I applied a couple of weeks ago,” Ina admitted. “So we were together. In a serious relationship. Great. Cool. Awesome,” Luna said sarcastically.

When Luna got sarcastic, and not humorously sarcastic, it troubled Ina. It meant that her annoyance was building. And Ina knew it would not bode well.

“I didn’t think I’d get it,” Ina tried to justify.

Luna stood up quickly and laughed angrily. “Didn’t think you’d get it. Heh. You’re really funny sometimes.”

Ina’s annoyance grew along with Luna’s. She too stood up and looked straight at Luna. “This is my job, Luna!”

And like the women had risen from their chairs, their voice levels also rose. They weren’t screaming at each other, at least not yet, but each word was enunciated firmly.

“I’ve never tried to impede your academic endeavors. I know how much your career means to you. And I’ve known since we met. But why didn’t you tell me, Ina? Why couldn’t you tell me that you applied for sabbatical? This affects both of us, you know,” Luna stated.

At first, Ina’s resolve wavered. It was a valid point. “I-” But Ina stopped herself. Her work had always come first. She learned from her exes that she couldn’t sacrifice her career for what might be a temporary relationship. And instead of admitting wrongdoing, she defended herself. “This is huge for my career! I’ve been waiting for something like this! I’ll be publishing a new paper and it may help me expand my anthropological circle. I don’t get it. Why can’t we do long distance? Why can’t you come with me?”

“We both know long distance would never work! You know how I am,” Luna said.

“How do you know if we haven’t even tried?” Ina countered.

“You’d always be busy and I have my life here. I’m leaving, Ina. Good luck in New Orleans,” Luna said sadly.

And at the heat of the moment, at the point of loss of logic, almost any words were fair game. As Luna turned away to leave, Ina called out to her. “So you’re just giving up on us? Just like that?” Ina yelled.

Luna turned around almost immediately and stormed towards Ina, angrily jabbing a finger at Ina’s chest. “If anyone gave up on us, it was you! You were the one who applied for a job a thousand miles away without even telling me! Did you even consider me when applying? Did you?” Luna snapped back.

“When we got together, I told you how important my job was. And you agreed to it,” Ina said.

“You didn’t answer my question. I guess you didn’t think about me when applying,” Luna reminded her.

And Ina failed to deny it. The room’s tension could be cut with a knife. Heat radiated off both of the women who were standing less than an inch apart. The two looked at each other, and deep realization set in. This was a possible deal breaker. They backed away from each other and subsequently, the room’s tension was cut in half. It was obvious that they realized that fighting was futile.

“This is different, Ina. You’re moving away for god’s sake. This is a huge deal.” Luna paused slightly, deliberating over next words. “And...and it’s okay. I’m not gonna stand in between you and your career,” At this point of acceptance, Luna’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Goodbye, Ina. I love you,” she muttered.

“I love you, Luna,” Ina had mumbled back. But it was too late. The door close quietly, and Luna was gone into the night. Ina fell to the floor, crying against the wall, holding herself in her arms.

As soon as Luna opened the doors of the building, she was taken aback by New York City’s cold and brisk air hitting her tears. Her efforts to wipe them away were useless; her tears fell as if they were an endless cascade. She struggled to lug herself home; she could barely see three feet in front of her through her tears and was exhausted from screaming and arguing with Ina.

At the stroke of midnight, Luna collapsed on her bed and Ina on her couch in the office. They wrapped themselves in their own covers - it had been a long time since they had slept alone. Both women stared at their ceilings, letting their tears fall freely.

Two weeks had passed by agonizingly slowly. Ina and Luna hadn’t talked in the entire period of time. It was the longest they’d gone without speaking since they met.

Neither woman took their separation lightly. Ina, known for her philosophical discussion questions and witty remarks back at students, stayed behind her desk quietly throughout the entirety of class. To her students, it seemed as if she had lost all interest in teaching, and maybe even anthropology. Luna had skipped Ina’s class and only attended her classes that were on the other side of campus. She still turned in her anthropology assignments, but because of her lack of attendance, her normal grade of an A in the class dropped to a low B, borderline C.

Luna and Ina hadn’t run into each other on campus. And for this, both women were grateful - they didn’t know how they would react if they saw each other in person.

At home, Ina’s days were dull, unvarying and monotonous. She woke up, forced herself out of bed, made coffee, taught, and cried herself to sleep. This unhealthy cycle repeated itself throughout the two weeks. Luna’s days differed only slightly. Instead of teaching, she went to class and when she returned home, she blasted depressing music throughout her dorm.

Ina’s fingers hovered over the send button. She closed her eyes, pressed the button and hoped for the best. She wished Luna would answer. At first, she debated sending her the message, but realized that she couldn’t go on the plane without at least telling Luna something.

Meanwhile, after her Shakespearean Literature class, Luna trudged on home and put on her daily emotional music. Luna plopped herself on the bed and began belting out the lyrics to the songs she felt like she personally related to.

I still hear your voice in the traffic

We’re laughing over all the noise

God, I’m so blue, know we’re through

But I still-

Her music cut off as her phone pinged with a notification. Angrily, she grabbed her phone to clear the text, but as soon as she saw who it was, her heart stopped.

Saturday 1/16 @ 3:30 pm Ina: I’m at the airport, boarding soon. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye - and I might never be. I wish you were here. I love you.

Luna sobbed while reading the message over and over again. I miss her. I love her. Wait- I. Love. Her.

Though they had declared their love for each other many times before, Luna felt this one was different. She loved Ina. Luna sat up straight, realizing what she had to do. She grabbed a hoodie from her closet, pulled it over her head and darted out the door. She needed to claim her woman.

Anxiety filled Luna’s entire body. She hoped she would get to Ina on time. Her focus shifted from the road to what she would tell Ina. She knew she had to tell her she loved her unconditionally, that she missed her infinitely, that she wanted to wake up next to her every morning; essentially, that she was her everything. Again, Luna’s tears clouded her vision. That’s why she didn’t see the 18 wheeler barreling down the street. And in a flash, the world darkened.

Ina paced anxiously outside her gate, waiting for a text back or something. Anything.

“Ma’am, are you getting on the plane or not?” the TSA woman asked irritated.

Ina was about to bark out a petty response, but instead she composed herself. She assumed and accepted that she wasn’t getting a text back and sighed, rolling her baggage down the terminal walkway.

#ina kingsley #ina x mc #queen b #choices #luna garcia

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lovelivingmydreams · 3 years

Text

A story by heroes and villains

Logan Anker: Pupil

In learning you will teach, and in teaching you will learn.

Sweets had been gushing about 10b for two years when Logan finally caved and decided to put aside his opinion on under age heroes in training and take a look for himself.

He had to admit, he seemed to be very talented. Most people had two abilities at the most.

10b, however exhibited enhanced strength and speed, flight, several shields, projectile and close combat weaponry. And he had excellent control of all of those.

He nodded to Sweets, who called out to the young hero in training as he finished off his target practice sequence.

“Good Job 10.b.” The kid, because no one could fool Logan, this child was nowhere near finishing high school, looked around and lower himself to the ground, eying Logan curiously.

Or at least, that is what Logan gathered from his body language since the protective gear was hiding the hero in training’s face.

A child. Around Virgil’s age. He might’ve be been in Virgil’s class at some point. A boy who thinks he can face what is out there. He knows Thomas hasn’t told this potential hero about Him yet.

It was Logan’s job to make sure the hero was ready for that information, for the world.

The hero was looking him up and down. Logan had updated his disguise from his old villain getup to a more inconspicuous outfit. One he could be seen wearing in the normal world, though he had it shift colors between a friendlier grey and sometimes navy blue to the deep black he chose for the meetings in the basement. His shading and voice modulating technology had gotten even better and was now integrated in his tie and his glasses. Making for a seamless transition from entering the elevator as Logan to exiting as Brainstorm.

“10.b, this is Mr. BrainStorm. He’ll be assisting us with training and provide you with the tech you need to be the best hero you can be,” Sweets explained.

The shocked reaction was expected. 10b was on edge. Logan supposed he should make him more comfortable around him if they were to work together.

“I see my reputation still manages to precede me,” he stated as calmly as he could. Though he really whished it didn’t. It’d been well over a decade since he’d done anything that made the papers in a bad way. His creations and discoveries had gotten him more than a little credit. The new police chief was actually giving him the benefit of the doubt now, while the former chief had treated him like a criminal every chance he got.

At the end it got so bad that he’d had to hold his talisman clenched in his fist every time the man was in the same building, or even on tv.

Chief Davies was firm and called him out when she needed to. But she truly did have his back when he needed her to support his ideas.

Sometimes he wished he could publish his research under his own name. He wanted Virgil to see the good he put into the world and be proud of him. But that might lead to pesky questions. Ordinary professors didn’t work on the level he did. And he couldn’t draw any attention to himself. Lest He take notice.

On the subject of his son though. Thanks to Virgil he had connected with his students a lot better the past few years. And if he was right about this boy’s age, his experiences with Virgil might help him connect with the young hero too.

“Would it be more comforting if I told you that the initials of my moniker are no coincidence?”

A second’s silence and then an artificially deepened snicker. Success.

“I suspected you might find this funny. I came up with it when I was about your age and thought it was really clever of me. Though I didn’t actually use it until I was closer to twenty.”

Logan was glad his face was hidden, because if anyone could see the pain in his eyes now…

He’d been 19 to be exact. Freshman in college, close friends with Thomas. When Caleb…

And then Helena got the diagnosis… He’d wanted to help. Needed to help.

He didn’t even talk to her long enough to let her tell him her good news… Not until that last day. And then he’d gotten mad. He’d been hurt, angry with her and himself.

And that was the last conversation he’d ever had with his big sister…

“10.b” his new pupil introduced himself as he offered his hand.

Logan appreciated the young man’s restraint. Many would ask him all about his past given the chance. But 10b didn’t. He nodded his appreciation and accepted the offered hand. “BrainStorm.”

Training 10b was a rather interesting endeavor.

Driven was one word to describe him. That much was clear. Logan tried to make him understand that even he had limits. But so far, he struggled to find one.

10b just kept outdoing himself. He was almost tempted to let him go out. But…

“So? Am I ready yet?” Even through the voice modulation Logan could hear the hopeful tone in his voice. 10b was still far too eager for approval. And that was a dangerous thing to want as a hero.

So Logan just shook his head. “No.”

The most concerning example of his stubbornness and need to prove himself was when he kept training from noon to almost midnight with almost no breaks one late summer day.

Logan would be annoyed, he would’ve liked to spend some of the last day of summer with his son, but he was more worried.

“Go home. Your body can’t keep up with your stubbornness. I’m sure you have places to be tomorrow.”

The boy grunted. “I’m not done…” he insisted.

“I am.” Logan turned and left the campus, hoping that his absence would force the boy to quit for the night.

When he arrived home, he planned to check in on Virgil who should be fast asleep at this hour, before getting to bed himself.

But instead he was tackled by his sobbing son. It’d been half a decade since Virgil had hugged him as soon as he walked through the door. After that he had started to learn that his father was not truly comfortable with physical closeness and had made an effort to at least warn him when he needed a hug.

“You are back. I thought… You’re never out this late and… I thought something bad had happened.”

Virgil rambled as he sobbed into his shirt.

“It’s okay Virgil. I’m alright. I’m sorry, I forgot to let you know work was running late.” He hated keeping secrets from Virgil. But it had regretfully become a habit of his it seemed.

He still didn’t talk about Helena or Caleb, despite the fact that Virgil had asked about them a few times in the past already. He had a right to know. But whenever he tried to talk about them to him, his throat closed up and fear and shame overtook him.

And he couldn’t even think about telling him about his powers, his mistakes and therefore his redemption or his second job. So whenever he had to train 10b he said he had to work on a project.

He’d thought Virgil had been fine. Though he noticed that he’d gotten more quiet since he started high school. In light of recent events, that might not have been just normal teenage behavior.

He had figured, if his son was struggling, he would tell him… apparently not.

“It’s alright Virgil. I’m here. We’re both alright,” he muttered.

It took him about thirty minutes to calm Virgil down.

He brought him up to his bedroom and tucked him in.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow when you get back from school alright? Try to sleep,” he instructed.

“Okay,” Virgil murmured as he pulled the blanket closer to himself.

Before leaving in the morning, Logan checked in on Virgil and found him curled up in his bed, sound asleep. He was about to leave when he noticed Virgil was holding something. Upon closer inspection he saw that it was the old stitch doll , wearing Virgil’s comfort blanket as a cape.

Had they been moved back to the bed at some point since the last time Logan saw them on Virgil’s desk? Or was this something he only did when he needed the extra comfort?

Logan didn’t think Virgil would tell him even if he asked. So he made a note to pay more attention to the doll’s location whenever he came up to the room. If nothing else it might be an indicator to Virgil’s mood. It would be something to consider later.

In class he had a hard time concentrating. He expected as much and apologized in advance.

He greeted each class by looking through his note cards, though after the first he didn’t need to, he found that the ritual was part of the appeal for his students.

“Good day everyone. I’m afraid I’ll be a bit off my ‘game’ today. Suffice it to say, the past night was a as you say ‘big oof’,” he held up the card and flashed it to his students.

A chuckle ran through the class and he smirked, feeling a little bit better after every time.

During lunch hour he called Picani. It’d been a while, but he needed some help and another session.

“He couldn’t breathe. He was terrified. He was… I’ve never felt so helpless,” he confessed quietly.

“Well, sounds like Virgil is certainly dealing with some things. I of course can’t be sure after just this one conversation but could you answer a few questions for me?”

Logan tugged at his hair. “Yes of course.”

Picani proceeded to list a few observable behaviors, things Logan had in fact noticed in Virgil. Small changes that just seemed logical developments from certain things he’d had since childhood. But, as it turned out…

“I would have to talk to Virgil in person to be sure. But from what you told me, he might have heightened levels of anxiety.”

Logan thought about that. That made a good amount of sense.

“Can you… I’m pretty sure he won’t want to talk about this. If he did, he would have done so already. But is there a list of some sort he could fill out? I’d like to be more certain before I bring up anxiety.”

Picani sent him a list and instructions on how to interpret them. He printed them out and was just reading through them when there was a knock on his door.

“Yes?” he called.

“Hi there Logie! How are classes going?” Patton asked as he walked in.

“Hello Patton. Classes are going satisfactory,” he informed him pleasantly.

“But…”

Logan chuckled. “Nothing gets past you does it?” Patton was a god sent. He was patient with Logan’s social ineptness and didn’t mind if he ranted about Virgil or whatever scientific article had his attention at the moment during most of their conversations. He didn’t ask about his past, he didn’t press if he didn’t want to talk about what upset him in the present. He was amazing.

Logan had fallen for Patton Bonair and hard. He felt like an idiot. Like a middle schooler unable to just tell his crush that he liked him.

But would Virgil be able to handle such a big change? Would he like Patton? Would Patton be able to handle forever having to take second place in Logan’s life?

Too many variables. Patton wouldn’t even be interested in him in the first place.

Things worked fine right now.

“Just teenage trouble. Nothing you can do about it I am afraid. How are you?” he asked. Patton nodded, accepting the change of subject.

Logan didn’t have any evening classes, and 10b had no training planned today, so he was home first and made a pot of chamomile as he waited for Virgil.

“Home!” Virgil’s voice came from the hallway followed by the sound of a closing door.

“Kitchen!” Logan replied as he poured two cups from the pot.

Virgil sat down and accepted the cup Logan handed him.

Once they both sat down Logan looked at Virgil, feeling hurt when he saw his son avoiding his eyes. When had that started? He had thought a lot about what Virgil might be going through and why he wasn’t aware until now.

He landed on the reason Virgil had given about not telling him about bullies.

“Virgil, I want you to know that you are not in trouble. I am not mad or upset with you in any way. Alright?” Virgil nodded, still not quite meeting his eyes.

Logan pressed on, speaking gently to ensure that he didn’t give Virgil the idea that he was frustrated or hurt.

“Last night… Was that the first time you went through something like that?”

What little progress Virgil had made in looking at him vanished in a second. His hands tightened around his mug. “No…” he admitted. Logan had feared as much, but still it stung to know his son had suffered on his own. Or maybe, hopefully, Janus had been there for him. Like he’d been there for the bullies.

“Sometimes I just think too much and I worry and then I freak out and… It always passes, but it’s…” His voice started shaking and Logan caught the glistening of tears in his eyes.

Logan recalled Virgil’s behavior of the night before, the thought’s he’d mentioned running through his head. Imagined being in his place.

“Frightening I’m sure.” His statement finally got Virgil to look at him. Tears still in his eyes, but more than that surprise.

“Virgil,” he began as he pushed the list and pen he’d laid ready towards him.

“I have a list for you, I’d like you to read over it and indicate next to each item how often you experience them on a monthly basis. It’s important to me that you are honest. I have a suspicion of what may be causing this, but I get that talking about it might be hard for you. Therefor I provided you with this as a way to boil it down to simple facts. Can you do this for me?” It was factual and to the point. He didn’t want to add to Virgil’s nerves by making the conversation even more emotionally charged.

Virgil nodded and accepted the paper and pen.

Logan let him fill out the list focusing on his tea. Once he heard the scribbling of the pen stop he looked up. Virgil seemed about to push the paper forward, but his whole body was tense.

His face was pulled in a frown and he was biting his lip.

Anxious about the results and his reaction?

“It’s alright Virgil,” Logan said gently. “I know I’m not always, good, at expressing my emotions, but I do love you. More than I expected to when I first agreed to take care of you. Nothing could prepare me for how much I love you and how proud I am to call you my son. Whatever you wrote down, won’t change that.”

It was a moment of unfiltered honesty and apparently that was what Virgil needed to hear.

He took a deep breath and then the paper was in front of Logan. He read it over and it became apparent rather quickly that Picani was right.

“I’m sorry you’ve been struggling with this on your own Virgil. Can I ask for how long?”

Logan dreaded the answer. But it was vital that he knew this.

“Um… start of last school year?” That wasn’t as long as Logan had feared.

“I didn’t notice it was bad until shortly after Christmas though. I was in the park and started freaking out. After that I was more aware of it I guess.” he explained.

Logan nodded, not showing his relief. When he went over external behaviors with Picani he’d come to fear that Virgil had been dealing with this for years. And perhaps he had. But he’d only known for the past eight months. Still, that was a long time to harbor such a secret from a loved one. Logan should know. Every day that he didn’t tell Virgil the whole truth about himself pressed like a heavy weight on his chest.

“Why did you feel like you couldn’t tell me this?” he asked worriedly.

Virgil squirmed in his seat. “I… I wanted to… but then I started freaking out about freaking you out and…” Logan was about to try and talk Virgil through a breathing exercise he’d researched but Virgil already centered himself with a deep breath and a slow sip from his tea to give himself time to calm down. “I just figured I could deal.”

That was understandable. Logan had certainly used similar reasoning in the past in order not to burden Thomas, or his sister… That had not ended well for him though. And he would not let Virgil suffer because of a misplaced need for independence.

He had tried to teach him to ask for help when he needed it when Remus was taken out of school. But it clearly hadn’t sunk in.

“Virgil, I think you might suffer from heightened levels of anxiety. That doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with you. I would like for you to talk to someone about it though. If only to help you figure out a way to handle these attacks and the thoughts that come with this better so it doesn’t have to interfere too much with your life. Does that sound agreeable?”

“A shrink?” Virgil asked nervously.

Logan was glad he had so much practice keeping his emotions in check. He had perhaps been a bit too vigilant in shielding Virgil from his problems. “I know there is a stigma against it…” He had to do this. If he wanted Virgil to trust him on this, to open up more to him in general. Then he had to open up first. “But my psychiatrist has helped me a great deal with your mother’s death. I hope he, or one of his colleagues help you with your anxiety.”

“You… you went to therapy?” Virgil’s shock was proof that he had probably done too well of a job of seeming put together and in control at all times. He did it to assure Virgil of a stable figure to rely on. But he had deprived him of someone able to truly understand emotional vulnerability it seemed. “Still do from time to time,” he nodded, recalling the appointment he had scheduled for the weekend, making a note to announce it as such when he left. Perhaps he should have normalized his visits to doctor Picani the same way he’d normalized his attraction to men.

Virgil seemed to seriously consider his request now that he knew his father had a history of going to therapy.

“Okay…” he finally said, much to Logan’s relief. “just… can this stay between you and me?” Logan wanted to question why Virgil felt the need to hide this from Janus. Thomas he could understand. Virgil’s honorary uncle was of the helpful sort and might fuss about Virgil just a bit too much. But surely having a friend at school who knew about the potential for attacks and the ways to treat them could be beneficial?

He held these questions back though. Mental health was like your sexuality in that regard. It had to be your own choice when you told who about what parts of yourself. Including the reason you aren’t ready to tell your best friend you are struggling with certain issues.

“If that makes you more comfortable.”

“Thanks,” Virgil smiled before leaving the table with his tea to make homework in his room. Picani planned in a two hour take in session for Virgil early October.

In the meantime Logan paid extra attention to Virgil’s behavior. Trying to stay vigilant without becoming overbearing. It was hard, but he felt like he managed not to overstep.

He checked in with Virgil every night and found that indeed, Stitch only occasionally ended up in the bed. Usually preceded by a very quiet evening.

So Logan made an effort to coax Virgil into talking to him more when he seemed to hide in his own head. Sometimes he was successful. Other times Virgil asked him to let him just be for the evening and Logan backed off.

Picani managed to soothe Logan’s worries about being a bad father. Normal behavior for this age and such. They did discuss the possibility that Virgil might need some more affirmation. While they deduced that Virgil expressed his love through acts of service and gift giving. He usually paired those with clear verbal statements of his feelings and intentions. Possibly because he himself struggled to ‘assume’ that any action was made with the intention of showing love or appreciation.

The month progressed and when Logan dropped Virgil off for his first session he was probably as nervous as Virgil. He wanted to blow of some steam, but he held firm in his decision to never use that part of his abilities again. So instead he went for a run. By the time he was freshened up it was time to pick Virgil up. Sure, his son was old enough to take the bus, but he remembered how much his own first meeting with Picani had affected him and how intense the man’s idea of a good first impression was.

So he wanted to make sure Virgil was comfortable afterwards.

To his relief Virgil had ended up liking Picani. A second appointment was made for the next week and Virgil actually opened up a bit more after that. He started showing his drawings again, he hadn’t been comfortable sharing his art in what felt like forever.

And Logan must say, though he was never very creative or in touch with art, he could see that Virgil had talent. He could discern the patterns in the pencil lines and could see which sketches were made absentmindedly and which had been drawn in moments of tension. Each and every one though, without fail, was something Logan couldn’t phantom creating himself. He told Virgil as much and it made his son happy.

The name Roman started coming up in conversations again. Apparently he was Virgil’s lab partner this year and if the way his son seemed to struggle not to smile when talking about him was any indication, the crush Logan had suspected in middle school had returned. Or maybe it never faded in the first place.

10b was still training hard to become a hero and still eager to try his skills out in the real world. Logan was starting to worry he might run out of logical reasons to deny him this soon.

“We are done today,” he decided one Saturday afternoon.

“What? No! Why!?” the boy demanded.

Logan sighed and crossed his arms in front of him, taking a resolute stance. “Because, if you are going to be a hero any time soon you’ll have to learn to balance out your hero duties and your own life. School, work, friends, family…” If he’d been better at that aspect things would have ended up differently.

“Sweets and Manifestor both already left to return to their lives. You and I should do the same.” He didn’t wait for a reply and left. Virgil would be returning home from his appointment soon and Logan wanted to be there for him should it have been a difficult session.

Once he got upstairs he received a message from the front desk.

‘There is a young man who claims to be your son waiting for you.’

Logan smiled as he read this. He was glad Virgil had chosen to seek out his presence rather than just taking the bus home.

When he approached the front desk though he could hear the sound of sharp intake of breath, stuttering gasps and high pitched attempts at vocalization.

He was transported back to that terrible night and set of in a sprint.

“Virgil!” he called out, hoping his son would register and identify his voice and calm down.

He rounded the corner and found Virgil doubled over, gesturing frantically with his hand.

He rushed over and grabbed it. “Virgil if you can hear me, squeeze my hand,” he instructed.

“Fine, fine,” he gasped with a squeeze. Then he said something but Logan could only make out the words “Cant” and “God”.

“Virgil, are you having an attack?” he asked worriedly.

Much to his relief Virgil shook his head before starting to take in slow, deep breaths.

Once he had control over his breathing he whipped at his eyes smearing his running make up even more.

When Virgil looked up he had the widest grin. “You are using the vocab cards.”

Logan cocked his head, confused about why that was so funny.

“Of course. They were a gift from you, why wouldn’t I use them at any opportunity?”

How did he even learn this information?

A muffled squeal answered that question. Logan didn’t even need to look up to know who this was. Patton. Patton met Virgil and talked to him and apparently made him laugh so hard he could barely breathe. Patton had been talking about him with his son.

Virgil luckily snapped him out of his mild gay panic.

“Yes, because you were complaining about not understanding some of the things your students were saying. I didn’t expect you to actually start yeeting your trash,” he chuckled.

Now, Logan was pretty sure Virgil was aware of the nuances of modern slang. He did take meticulous care of making the cards and the updates on every gifting opportunity on top of whatever ‘real’ present he’d gotten him.

Virgil might have just been joking, with little care for accuracy. Regardless Logan adjusted his glasses and looked his son in the eye before informing him that: “Yeet is for distance. For trash I need accuracy, therefore the term used is ‘cobi’.”

And just like that Virgil was doubled over again, though this time the laughter died out on it’s own much sooner.

He straightened himself and addressed Patton with a smile.

“Anyway, great meeting you Patton. It’s good to know dad has someone so nice looking out for him.”

And then, out of nowhere he turned back to him. “You should invite him over for dinner some time. He’s a lot of fun.”

Logan felt his face flush. What? When? Did Virgil just…“Well, you two talk about that, I’m going to wash my face.” Before Logan could collect himself enough his son was out of sight. In hindsight it was foolish to think that Virgil had given up his matchmaker tendencies.

He simply hadn’t had any targets until now. Logan had hoped that after he and Thomas had a fight about the later’s attempt at setting him up with Sweets of all people for some unknown reason, Virgil had come to understand that he simply was not interested in dating anyone. Apparently not. And Virgil had just basically asked Patton out for him.

He looked over to Patton, about to make excuses for his son but then froze. Patton was blushing and playing with his sweater sleeves.

“Patton are you alright?” he hoped Virgil hadn’t made him uncomfortable? What had been said before he arrived?

“Will you have dinner with me?!” Patton blurted out.

Logan blinked in shock. “As… Like…”

“A date! I’m asking you out on a date,” Patton clarified.

Patton wanted to go out with him? “That would be acceptable,” he nodded.

Patton’s face brightened. “Great! Pick you up next Saturday around six? I’ll call you with the details,” he suggested. Logan nodded. “Yes. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Right! At work. Right here… Bye!” Patton giggled before walking off.

Logan meanwhile was trying not to lose his mind over this.

“Dad?”

Virgil had returned while Logan had stood here frozen for who knows how long.

“Dr. Bonnaire asked me on a date,” he breathed, still wrapping his head around that fact.

“I think you can call him by his first name if that’s the case.” Logan couldn’t see him right now but he was sure his son was finding this funny.

“I… I suppose…” He had a point. Not that he hadn’t been on a first name basis until now. But… Well he always called him by his last name whenever anyone else was around.

It was a habit he couldn’t quite explain.

“You did say yes right?” He must look really out of it. To be honest, Logan was starting to doubt if the last two minutes really happened.

“I… yes, I don’t know what came over me… I’ve never…” After over a decade of telling himself that he had no time… No business having a romantic relationship…

“Wait… you’ve never been on a date?” Virgil gasped incredulously.

“Not like this!” he clarified frantically as he gestured wildly. Last time…

“Last time, I was an arrogant college student who felt like he had to answer to no one but himself. Now, I am a single father, going out with a coworker. This is an adult outing. I can’t just…” How to even explain his dilemma?

“You really like this guy huh?” Virgil’s voice became soothing, sympathetic.

The flutter of butterflies and the flush of color on his face probably told Logan enough.

Logan sighs and nods with a blush. “He’s so patient and friendly and… I just never thought he could ever…”

“Now stop it right there,” Virgil snapped sternly. “Me turning out like a somewhat stable person, proofs you are awesome. And you just showed him all the reasons why he should date you while taking care of me. You’re welcome by the way. Patton is cool. He’s already met your kid and passed the test. The scariest bit is over.”

That finally caught Logan’s attention. He turned towards his son, who had washed off all make up from his face, and grabbed his shoulders to convey how serious he was.

“You’re really fine with me going out with him? With me possibly entering a romantic relationship?”

Virgil shrugged. “I mean, I’m not a fan of the change, but I want you to be happy. And if Patton is your pick… I wouldn’t have suggested he come over for dinner if I didn’t like him.”

Virgil was doing his best to sound casual about it, but Logan was filled with unmatched joy. He found that words alone were not sufficient to convey his feelings. So he hugged him tight. “I am fortunate to have you as a son,” he told him sincerely.

Virgil shoved him away, blushing awkwardly. Logan didn’t take it personally. It was his own fault that Virgil didn’t know how to react to him initiating physical contact.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever Logie.” What? Had Patton… Oh god. Virgil was much too pleased with Logan’s flustered reaction.

“Let’s go home,” he suggested with a smirk before heading to the parking lot.

Things changed over the next week. He and Patton engaged in more flirty conversation and it had his stomach in knots and his heart racing. But he didn’t mind that too much. Logan was pretty sure Thomas caught on, but he was kind enough not to mention it.

And then Halloween came around. Virgil’s favorite holyday.

They always dressed up together to hand out candy and Logan wondered if next year there would be an extra costume to be put together.

Virgil had been adjusting store bought costumes and doing their make up with enthusiasm ever since he outgrew trick or treating. He’d gotten quite good. From the start of September he’d be designing, sowing and practicing. The past two years it was the only time Logan saw his eyes light up again like they used to all the time when he was little.

This year, Virgil came home beaming.

“And so then I said ‘but ruling sounds like a lot of work’ and everyone laughed!”

Virgil was glowing as he told the story of how Roman had pulled him into a little improvisation.

“You should bring this boy over some time,” Logan suggested. Virgil’s hand, which had been turning him into a zombie professor, froze near his throat.

“I… We’re not… I mean he doesn’t…. We aren’t that close,” Virgil stammered. Logan let it go. Virgil wasn’t ready yet.

Logan had other worries that weekend than Virgil maybe trying to catch the eye of his classmate.

He was checking his tie for the millionth time and Virgil was wordlessly handing him the things he’d forgotten. Keys, wallet, phone…

He was a mess. “You look great dad,” Virgil assured him as he smoothed out his jacket for him. “He’s going to be blown away.”

“What would I do without you?” Logan wondered.

“Still pine from a distance I’m guessing,” Virgil smirked and just then the bell rang.

Logan took a deep breath, checked his pockets one last time and opened the door.

God, Patton looked so good in formal wear. He always looked charming, but now…

“Hya Logie! Hey Virgil! Thanks for letting me steal your dad for the night.” Patton winked.

“Hey Pat,” Virgil greeted.

Logan looked back with worry. “Are you sure…” he started, suddenly not comfortable with leaving his son alone for the night.

“Yes!” Virgil groaned with a roll of his eyes. “Just have a nice time. Text when you arrive at the restaurant and when you leave. I don’t have school tomorrow so don’t hurry home. Pat, steal his phone if he checks it even once during dinner.” Virgil was practically pushing him out the door at this point.

“I will,” Patton winked.

“Good, you crazy kids have fun and don’t do anything you wouldn’t want me to do.”

Logan flushed. “Virgil!” he chastised.

“Love you too!” he shouted as he shut the door in their faces.

Logan felt something twist in his stomach. Was Virgil trying to make sure he didn’t chicken out? Or… No. Virgil wouldn’t go behind his back.

“Logan?” Patton pressed gently.

He took a deep breath and smiled at his date… His date. The smile that appeared at that thought was almost painful.

“Apologies. Father instincts,” he shrugged by ways of explanation.

Patton giggled and hooked their arms together. “Don’t worry Logan. You’ve raised a wonderful boy. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Yes, you are right. Let’s enjoy our evening.”

The restaurant was lovely, the food delicious, and the company perfect.

Patton didn’t need to steal his phone, though Logan was always aware of its presence in his pocket. They talked about much more personal things than he’d ever allowed for at work. He learned about Patton’s love for animals and his ongoing battle with the kitchen, though he was good at baking for some reason.

Patton learned about his fascination with everything space related. They discovered they both loved Sherlock.

Patton really loved his puns. Something Logan found both endearing and frustrating. But he was sure his rants about complicated subjects could be a bit annoying from time to time too. They had fun discussing a few philosophers together and before they knew it it was time to pay. Logan texted Virgil as they waited for the bill.

“I had a really great time tonight,” Patton told him on the ride home.

“As did I. I’m glad you asked me out,” Logan nodded.

“Me too.”

And then they parked in front of the house. Logan spotted slight movement at the curtain of the neighbors. Celine was a curious person but she could keep a secret. He was sure she would ask him all about Patton next time they crossed paths, but he also knew that unless he told her it was okay, her husband nor her son would hear about his new relationship from her.

The lights in his own home seemed to be off. Virgil was probably in his room.

He cleared his throat. “So I guess now it is my turn. Next Friday? There is an exhibit I wanted to visit and I would very much like for you to accompany me.”

Patton smiled. “It’s a date.”

Logan nodded and left the vehicle with a final ‘good night’.

He had wanted to kiss him. Very much so. But he didn’t feel they were ready for it just yet.

Maybe after a second successful date.

When he got to Virgil’s room he noticed that the light was still on, so to be safe he gave a gentle knock on the door. A pause. “Come in.”

When he opened the door he saw Virgil was sitting on his bed, his headphones around his neck and his hair a mess. He’d been listening to music.

“You should be asleep,” he pointed out. It was rather late. He should at least have been trying.

“I wanted to make sure I could tell you good night. How was it?”

Virgil tried to be casual, but Logan could hear how tense he was. Whether it was worry or excitement, he wasn’t sure. Either way, it told him Virgil had worried about his night going well and that meant a lot. But Logan was not going to risk keeping Virgil up even later by rambling about the date.

“I will brief you in the morning. Now you should get adequate rest. Sleep deprivation is detrimental to both your physical health and creativity.”

“Okay, night dad,” he muttered in surrender as he got up to get ready for bed.

“Night Virgil… I love you.” He’d gotten much better at saying the words over the last month and he could see Virgil appreciated the effort.

“Love you too dad,” he smiled gently. And with that Logan closed the door.

How did he end up this lucky?

@moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043 @angelic-cali @selenechris

5) Let them go.

Masterlist

#sanders sides #ts sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logicality #mention of #prinxiety #hero au

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maraudersandlily20 · 4 years

Text

Disturber of the Peace

Harry was used to visitors. His friends made it a habit to come and check on him, at least once a month, just to ensure that he was still living. It had been a few years since The Boy Who Lived had disappeared and Harry was almost glad to see him go. He was learning a great deal about himself in France and liked the constancy of a place that belonged to him.

He had been occupying himself while there, of course. He had taken to tending plants as well as painting. Draco told him he was rubbish, but he still liked to try. And then of course, there was the reading. McGonagall had sent him an array of books regarding defensive magic. He wasn’t completely daft and knew that McGonagall wanted him to return to Hogwarts, but as a teacher. She had as good as stated it in her last letter, telling him that he was always an extremely bright student and his life experiences were more than enough qualifications to get him the position. He had enjoyed the books, toyed with the idea of going to teach, but had declined the offer. He declined the offer three separate times. But, he had to admit, at least to himself, that he felt a bit of longing in him when he thought about it. He would have the chance to form the minds of students, create in their minds an image of him that didn’t revolve around him being the chosen one. It was a nice thought.

He sighed as he flipped through the pages of one of the latest books regarding countering spells. He had learned a great deal from the writers and knew that, with all of the knowledge he’d gained recently, he was more than capable of teaching. But he felt blocked, like he wasn’t sure. He was afraid of deciding and that left him stuck alone in a cottage in France.

As he was contemplating this dilemma, he heard a knock from the door. Assuming that one of his diligent friends was returning with some kind of food or some great story in their new positions, he rose to get the door. He was glad his friends were moving on in their lives, but he sometimes felt like he was being left behind. It was his fault, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. Ron was becoming one of the brightest aurors of their generations. Hermione had already taken a position in the ministry. Ginny was a professional quidditch player and Luna had started on a path toward tattoo artistry. It was all rather fine and well. And Harry was in France, tending his plants, and hoping no one would recognize him. It felt off and a bit unfair.

He shook himself of those thoughts and moved to answer the knock. Wondering if Draco had returned from England early, he opened it to reveal, not Draco, but someone he was unused to seeing at his front door.

Neville Longbottom stood on his porch, holding what appeared to be a succulent in one hand and a bag in the other. He hadn’t seen Neville since his wedding nearly two years ago. He looked good. 26 years old and one of the youngest professors in Hogwarts history. His work in Herbology was revolutionary and the research he provided was unmatched. Harry would never admit it to him, but he had purchased every single piece that Neville had published. He didn’t understand any of it, really, but he liked seeing Neville’s name on the top of the parchment. A comforting thing.

But this wasn’t a paper, this was Neville Longbottom in the flesh. Harry felt himself grin.

“Neville!”

“Hello, Harry!” Neville answered, moving forward and giving Harry a hug, though an awkward one, considering his hands were full.

“Come in, come in!” Harry said, moving aside so Neville could enter. He did so and took in the sight of the little cottage that Harry had made his home. His eyes scanned the pictures on the shelves, some magic some not, as well as paintings and wood carvings. Neville was also pleased to see that every plant he had ever given Harry was on display somewhere on the walls.

Neville turned to Harry, setting his bag down and holding out the little plant. “This is for you. I found it in a little shop on the way in, and figured you might like a plant that wasn’t entirely magical.”

The other man smiled and accepted the gift. “Thanks Nev. It’s lovely.” He moved further into the room and placed the plant on a shelf, beside one of his favorite flowers that Neville had gifted him. It had very picky standards when it came to shelf-mates, but Harry figured the little succulent might do the trick. The plant bent over in curiosity, seeming to smell the succulent before releasing puffs of pollen in appreciation. It liked it. Harry turned to find Neville grinning in pride.

Later, when they had settled into the main room with cups of tea in their hands, Harry began to ask Neville the questions he had wondered since his arrival. “What brings you here, Nev? I haven’t seen you since the wedding. How's Hannah? How’s Hogwarts? Tell me everything.”

It seemed Neville couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. “I know, it’s been too long. I’m sorry about that. But, between the field work, the wife, and the teaching, I haven’t really had any time to think.” Harry waved him off, not caring about the time. He was simply glad to see him. “Hm, alright, well. To start, Hannah is doing well. She’s taking to healing like a bee to honey. She and Draco were in the same classes when they started, though Draco left after they became certified. She likes having her own practice. She’s set up shop in conjunction with a few other healers in Hogsmeade, so we have a small house out there. That way I can still teach. It’s wonderful.”

“That sounds lovely, Nev. I’m glad you and Hannah are doing well.”

“Yes, me too. And to answer the question I’m sure is on your mind but you’re too afraid to ask is no. No babies on the way yet. Much to Hannah’s mother’s disappointment. I’m so scared of babies that I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do it.” He persisted, despite Harry laughing at his words, “They’re so complicated! Why can’t they be more like plants? Water, dirt, sunlight! That’s all they need.”

“You could argue that kids need the same though,” Harry said, placing his cup onto the saucer on the table.

Neville rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, that’s what I’ve been told. We just don’t want to rush anything.” He turned his attention to the plant sprouting on the table beside his chair. It was growing quite splendidly, Harry would often brag, and it was. The flowers were beginning to come in and the scent of the small tree-like plant was unmatched.

“As for the other two questions you asked, they are actually connected,” Neville continued, avoiding Harry’s eyes by staring at the plants.

“Oh?”

“See, Hogwarts has been quite the place since the war. Much of the integrity is still there, but it has that feeling of purity that you only get from a new building. It’s beautiful.”

“That’s good,” Harry was cautious in his reply.

Neville turned to look at him. “It also is looking for new teachers.”

Harry immediately sighed, figuring the conversation was heading in this direction. “Nev-”

“No, Harry, come one. Hear me out?” After a moment, the exasperated man gestured for him to continue, looking put out. “I know McGonagall has been on your tail about taking the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, and I know you’ve been pretty persistent in turning it down. But McGonagall thinks now is the best time. Our current teacher, Douglas Finn, is going on sabbatical to study the movements of Thestrals. We need someone.”

“There are plenty of capable people who could fill his position, Nev.”

“Yeah, but none of them are you.”

Harry stood angrily at his words, grabbing their cups and heading into the kitchen to clean up. Neville followed. “You know I’m right, Harry. After you decided to leave Auror training, you’ve been listless. Not even trying to find things that make you happy. Ron’s told me all about it. You’ve grown stagnant the past few years.”

“I’m fine, Neville. In fact, I’m really happy. I like living here, I like not having people stare at me all the time. I like the peace and quiet.”

“Bullocks!” Neville interrupted him. “I know you, Harry Potter. I know everything about you and how your brain works. We’re practically brothers at this point. I’ve seen your dick, alright? We have a bond.” “Please don’t say we have a bond after stating you’ve seen my dick ever again, Nev. Please.”

“Fine,” Neville was trying to hide a laugh, Harry could see, but he pressed on. “I know that you’ve really enjoyed your peace and quiet. And I’m not saying you should give it up completely. But you’ve been here so long that the world suspects you to be dead.”

That made Harry smile. “I know, I’ve seen the articles.”

“Exactly,” the man stated, pushing at Harry’s shoulder. “You’re not dead, Harry. You just aren’t living. You aren’t doing anything anymore. And I can tell that you’re not happy. Content, maybe. But not happy. And teaching these kids, with the experiences you have under your belt, might be exactly what you need.”

Harry folded his arms, leaning against his counter. “I mean, I understand where you’re coming from, Nev, I really do. But I don’t think I’m cut out for it. And then, there’s the whole Draco situation, which, if you’ve spoken to Ron, I’m sure he’s told you all about. It’s hard with him having to return to England and spend so little time here. If I was at school teaching, I wouldn’t have any time to spend with him. Our relationship is so new and fragile, I can’t risk it. It just doesn’t make sense for me to throw away everything I’ve built here just because when I was younger I worked so hard NOT to be dead.”

They stared at each other for a moment, Harry trying to show Neville that he was being sincere. But Neville had a way of seeing Harry in a way that he had forgotten. It was almost like he could read his mind.

“I don’t think you mean it, Harry.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been so worried about peace and quiet and anonymity that you’ve forgotten about living. And this cottage is changing from a home into a hideaway. I think you’re using all of this as an excuse. I think that you’re hiding.”

It struck a chord in Harry that he had tried to ignore. Was he giving up life because he was comfortable? Was that the way he was supposed to be living? He wanted to feel fulfilled, wanted to have a life that didn’t revolve around him being Harry Potter, and he thought that France was the answer. But, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Harry was hiding. Hoping the world would forget about him.

Maybe he wanted that, though, because he thought that was best.

“I really appreciate you coming here, Nev, to talk to me. I know McGonagall probably sent you here. But I really am happy. I like living in this town where no one knows me. It’s…”

“Safe?” Neville finished for him. Harry nodded. “I don’t mean to sound like a prick, Harry, but when have you ever cared about being safe?”

Again, a tug in his chest. He didn’t like how much Neville could see him. These were all arguments he had had with himself before, but Neville had a way of making it stick. “I’m afraid-” Harry started, his voice getting caught. He cleared it and stared out of the window, trying to work up the courage to admit this. “I’m afraid I won’t be any good. I’m afraid I’m going to let them all down. I don’t want to feel responsibility for so many kids. I feel like it’s taken me this long to be responsible for myself. I’m afraid of failing.”

There, he had said it. The truth about the offer to teach at Hogwarts. Harry was terrified. His friend seemed to understand him completely, nodding and moving to stand beside him.

“When McGonagall asked me to teach, I didn’t know what to do. Hannah thought it was a brilliant idea, even though she was still doing her nursing courses. But I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t exactly been the brightest or most liked at school as a kid, and I worried that the moment I stepped back into those halls, that boy who everything always went wrong for would come swinging back into me.” He laughed. “And he did, a bit, but that’s beside the point.”

Neville took a moment to think, as if planning his words carefully. There was a moment of peaceful stillness between them before he carried on. “Before I made the decision, I went and saw my mother. She was happy to see me, as she always is. She doesn’t really know who I am besides the boy who brings her snacks. But she knows me, and that seems to be an improvement.”

Neville shoved his hands deep in his pocket, a habit he had when he felt uncomfortable in his vulnerability. “I told her about the offer to teach and how I worried I wouldn’t be good enough. And she listened, like she always does, but she said something pretty remarkable after I finished. She said, “no one is ever good enough until they try”.” He looked back at Harry, his face red. “I decided that I would give it one year, and if at the end of the year I hated it, I would leave. But I tried. And I loved it. There’s something about kids that brings a light to you that you can’t get anywhere else. And here I am, three years later. I have had a lot of awkward moments, but I’ve also learned a great deal about myself. I get to care for these kids and instill in them a passion for things they learn about. It’s pretty special.”

Harry contemplated his words as Neville tried to drive the point home. “Just give it a try. Give it a year. And if it’s not for you, then you can move on. I won’t try to stop you or get you out of your comfort zone ever again. You can come back to France and have all the peace and quiet that you want. Okay?”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a bit overwhelmed. But he sighed. “Alright Nev. One year.”

Neville grinned and clapped him on the back. “I’m glad to hear it! I’ll let McGonagall know.” He headed back toward the front door to pick up his bag, Harry trailing behind him in confusion.

“Do you need a place to stay?” Harry asked, wondering again if Neville had come all the way to France to convince him to teach.

“Nah,” Neville smiled. “Mrs. Longbottom is currently waiting in a hotel in Paris for me. I’m all set. We’re celebrating one of our many anniversaries, because she likes to celebrate and I like her. So it works out for everyone.” He opened the door and stepped through before taking a pause and turning back to look at Harry. “It’s good that you said yes, Harry, considering Malfoy agreed to take the potions master position last week. See you at school!”

“What?!” Harry exclaimed in surprise, but it was too late. Just as quickly as he had appeared, Neville Longbottom was gone. Leaving Harry confused and suddenly employed. He wasn’t sure what had happened.

#Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #Drarry fic #my writing #neville longbottom #this shit is dramatic #but i had to post this before the next fic #because they're connected

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and-then-there-were-n0ne · 3 years

Link

The year 2020 has been pivotal in the field of gender medicine. Earlier this month, in a landmark decision, the UK High Court ruled that children under 16 are unlikely to be able to consent to the use of puberty blockers, which the Court deemed to be an experimental treatment. Rather than a “pause button,” the court recognized puberty blockers as the first step in a largely irreversible pathway of medical transition. After a thorough evaluation of expert evidence, the judges cautioned clinicians that even 17-year-olds may not be able to fully comprehend the lifelong consequences of these interventions. The implications of the UK High Court judgement are poised to reverberate worldwide, according to the article published by the Economist last week. […]

Several other recent developments were also instrumental in shifting the tone and tenor of the debate, with increasing acknowledgement of the weak evidence basis for the “affirmation” treatment model for young people:

Following a 2019 review by Professor Carl Heneghan, which concluded that there is no quality evidence base to support the use of hormonal and surgical interventions in young people, two systematic reviews (one from Finland and another from Sweden) came to similar conclusions. Consequently, Finland became the first country in 2020 to issue new guidelines for treatment of gender dysphoria for young people; the new guidelines prioritize psychological treatment over treatment with hormones or surgeries.

In Sweden, broad coverage of the controversy, including the documentary The Trans Train produced by Sweden’s national public television broadcaster, appears to have decreased demand for gender reassignment among teens, which began to decline significantly in late 2019.

In the US, the issue of adolescent-onset gender dysphoria was brought to the attention of a general audience by Abigail Shirer’s “Irreversible Damage,” chosen by The Economist as one of its Books of the Year. [my note: Shirer is right-wing, this is half a win at best, I would not promote this book].

The UK NHS initiated a review of evidence, with the goal of reassessing treatment approaches for gender dysphoria in persons under age 18. The UK NHS also commissioned a wide-ranging independent review of gender identity healthcare for the under 18s, to include an exploration of why there has been a marked increase in the number of females seeking gender reassignment.

The analyses and conclusions of several widely quoted studies that misrepresented the success of “affirmative care” have been challenged and refuted. A major study that originally proclaimed to be the first to provide evidence of long-term mental health benefits of biomedical treatment for adults was critiqued and subsequently corrected, ultimately concluding that neither hormones nor surgery show any benefit in terms of long-term mental health or suicidality. Two other widely-quoted studies purporting benefits of puberty blockers and suggesting harms of psychological approaches to gender dysphoria were also found to have errors and misrepresentations that invalidated the papers’ conclusions.

One of the principal authors of the “Dutch Protocol,” the basis for the “affirmative” model of treating teens with hormones and surgeries, published a commentary in the journal Pediatrics, alerting clinicians that biomedical transition is currently being applied to young people for whom it was not designed and who might not benefit from it. The author emphasized the need to identify those people who need enhanced mental health support, rather than gender reassignment.

As the evidence for biomedical interventions underwent much-needed scrutiny, a number of small but promising case reviews of psychological approaches to gender dysphoria treatment in young people have been published. Much research is needed into the role of psychotherapy for young people with a novel, adolescent-onset variant of gender dysphoria, especially in light of the significant mental health and neurodevelopmental comorbidities found in this group.

At the same time, 2020 was marked by increased politicization of healthcare for gender-dysphoric young people. In particular, there has been a wave of proposed legislation that misrepresents ethical psychotherapy for gender dysphoria as a form of conversion therapy. A recent Economist editorial concluded that such conflation “could criminalise counselling that raises the distinct possibility that a particular trans-identifying child or adolescent might one day desist. So such laws are a bad idea.” SEGM maintains that although well-meaning, the legislation that fetters the clinical freedom of ethical clinicians attempting to help young people understand factors that contribute to their gender distress and to resolve it non-invasively, ultimately hurts the individuals it aims to protect.

Since SEGM formed in early 2020, more than 120 clinicians and researchers have joined us in our mission to promote safe, compassionate, ethical and evidence-informed healthcare for children, adolescents, and young adults with gender dysphoria. We have established a thriving online collaboration space, with a number of researchers evaluating the current evidence basis, writing research papers, and engaging with medical societies.

Our work has already begun to impact the quality of scientific discourse regarding treatments for gender-dysphoric young people. For example, the work conducted by SEGM-affiliated clinicians led to the official correction of a key study that mistakenly claimed that “gender-affirmative” surgeries improve mental health outcomes. At SEGM’s request, Medscape withdrew its inaccurate coverage of the study, and is currently in the process of notifying over 6,000 clinicians who took its Continued Medical Education (CME) class that the original conclusions of the study were incorrect.

SEGM-affiliated clinicians also published a key publication, “One Size Does not Fit All: In Defense of Psychotherapy for Gender Dysphoria,” which, according to Almetric, is in the top 1% of all scientific publications, and has been downloaded more than 20,000 times. SEGM-affiliated experts also provided critical evidence in the Keira Bell case, highlighting the risks and uncertainties of the “affirmative” intervention model for gender-dysphoric young people.

#segm #trans kids #transgender #radical feminism #radfem

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hedgewitchgarden · 3 years

Link

The world was running out of time, and so was Joanne Chory.

The 63-year-old biologist was nearing the end of a distinguished career researching how plants grow. Now she’d won the most prestigious honor in her field, the Breakthrough Foundation’s life sciences prize, which came with a $3 million check and an opportunity to address inventors and well-heeled donors at a glitzy Silicon Valley awards ceremony in December 2017.

About this seriesClimate Visionaries highlights brilliant people around the world who are working to find climate solutions.

The audience expected Chory to reflect on her achievements. Instead, she seized the chance to issue a warning.

Human-caused climate change was putting humanity’s future in peril, she said in recorded remarks. Survival would depend Earth’s original carbon-capture machines, the most effective tools for getting rid of greenhouse gases.

People needed to find new ways to grow plants — and soon.

The scientist’s urgency came not only from what was happening around her — record heat waves, catastrophic wildfires and deadly floods linked to climate change — but from the fight within her. Chory had been living with Parkinson’s disease for more than a decade, and the illness was getting worse. The cells in her brain were degenerating, her muscles were in revolt.

With the world teetering toward disaster, she decided, there was only one thing she wanted to do with the days she had left.

In the Breakthrough Prize video, Chory laid out a vision for a new kind of agriculture. She wanted to create “ideal plants” — crops like wheat or rice that are bred to store huge amounts of carbon in their roots. If enough farmers replanted their fields with these engineered species, she said, they could pull as much as 20 percent of the carbon dioxide emitted by humans out of the atmosphere each year.

In time, that speech would get the attention of foundations and pull in millions of dollars in funding, enabling Chory and her colleagues at the Salk Institute for Biological Studies in La Jolla, Calif., to expand their lab and enhance their experiments. They would identify the genes that make plant roots deep and thick and rich in sugar. Their greenhouses and growth chambers would be crowded with seedlings, and their project would be heralded as a revolutionary solution to the biggest problem on the planet.

But on the day she gave her speech, Chory had only her faith that the idea was possible — and her conviction that it had to be done.

“We’re going to make plants better,” she said, her lips twitching into a smile. “And we’re going to end up saving the world.”

Growing in the dark

To hear Chory describe it, photosynthesis is an everyday miracle. Powered by nothing more than sunshine, it converts water and carbon dioxide into flower petals and tree trunks, wide green leaves and spindly stems. Almost all life on Earth owes its existence to this process.

Photosynthesis also shields humanity from the worst consequences of our own actions. Each year, plants take up about a quarter of the planet-warming gases people emit. Put another way: without plants, climate change — which has already disrupted ecosystems and destroyed lives — would be even worse.

“Plants are pretty cool. They’re like a silent partner in all of this,” Chory said. “But nobody ever pays attention to them.”

Chory can empathize; she too overlooked plants for many years. Growing up near Boston in the 1950s and ’60s, one of six children in a boisterous Lebanese American family, she spent most of her time tussling with her siblings or disappearing into novels. She was ambivalent about science until a college genetics course caught her interest, and throughout her graduate studies she was focused on bacteria, not plants.

After receiving her PhD, Chory decided to join a lab that experimented with a tiny weed called Arabidopsis mainly because it seemed less competitive than researching microbes or fruit flies. With so few other scientists studying it, “I thought I could really make a difference there,” she recalled.

For one of her first experiments, Chory wanted to identify a genetic mutation that caused some Arabidopsis plants to be purple instead of green. She stuck some of the seedlings in a dark chamber, just to see what would happen.

Logic dictated that the plants would wither soon after sprouting, deprived of the light that’s needed to power photosynthesis. But several of the seedlings defied expectations, sending out fat shoots and broad, white leaves.

“Most people would say, ‘that’s strange, I didn’t get the mutant I want,’ and move on,” said Fred Ausubel, a Harvard Medical School geneticist who ran the lab where Chory was working at the time. “But Joanne realized immediately she’d found something much more interesting and important” — a mutation that caused plants to thwart their own biology and grow in the dark.

Though the initial discovery was a fluke, it launched Chory into decades of intensive study. Her first major academic paper revealed the gene that switches on a plant’s “growth mode” in response to sunshine. Next she identified hormones that dictate plants’ shapes and sizes. Her discoveries paved the way for research that would improve farmers’ yields and make crops more resilient.

The scientific establishment initially was resistant to the findings — and to the dynamic woman who delivered them. Older researchers would question her analyses. Male classmates and colleagues would try to intimidate her with pranks.

But Chory had inherited determination from her mother, who had dropped out of high school to go to work during the Great Depression, and resilience from her father, who labored long hours as an accountant so the family could make ends meet. She got her thick skin from her siblings, who she lovingly claims “were meaner than anyone I ever met in the lab.”

Eventually, Chory became a plant research superstar. She established her own lab at the Salk Institute, was elected to the National Academy of Sciences. Her published research was taught in college biology classes, where it awed aspiring scientists like Jennifer Nemhauser, who dreamed of studying in Chory’s lab.

“It was so obvious that she was an incredibly original thinker and someone who is very brave — to do things that other people would consider too hard, too weird, too ambitious,” Nemhauser said.

When she came to work with Chory as a postdoctoral fellow in 2000, Nemhauser was ready to be impressed by the older woman’s ferocious intellect. She didn’t expect Chory to be compassionate, witty and wise, with a self-deprecating sense of humor and a willingness to hear out any idea.

“It was the most heady scientific environment I’ve ever been in,” said Nemhauser, now a professor at the University of Washington. Chory’s lab meetings often turned into freewheeling discussions and vigorous debates. The conversations would end with everyone grinning and drenched in sweat.

In 2004, Chory summoned her team to a more sober gathering. She had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s, a degenerative brain disorder that can cause tremors, mobility problems and severe pain, among other symptoms. Though the disease can be treated, there is no cure.

Nemhauser recalled the stricken scene that filled the lab after the announcement. Chory was only 49. She had two young children. It didn’t seem fair that such an accomplished and beloved person would have to deal with so much pain.

Almost everyone in the room was in tears, Nemhauser said. But Chory’s eyes stayed dry.

An idea takes root

For almost a decade, Chory was able to manage her Parkinson’s with medication. But the disease is progressive; by 2014, her symptoms had become severe. Some days, she woke up feeling like her body had aged 40 years overnight. The simple act of walking, she said, was as mentally exhausting as driving in the left lane on English roads.

Chory kept on top of the scientific literature and represented patients at neuroscience conferences. She tried to stay ahead of her disease.

“But the wild swings, and not knowing what you’re waking up to, it can make you kind of anxious,” she said. “I’d rather not think about it.”

So she worked. Between 2005 and 2015, Chory contributed to 117 publications in academic journals: They included titles such as: “Organelle signaling: how stressed chloroplasts communicate with the nucleus” and “A toggle switch in plant nitrate uptake.”

But the rapid escalation of the climate crisis was starting to match the urgency Chory felt about her own health. In 2011, a drought in East Africa caused tens of thousands of people to die of hunger. The following year, Hurricane Sandy ravaged the East Coast. By the end of 2013, the concentration of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere crossed the milestone level of 400 parts per million. And 2014 was the planet’s warmest year on record — until 2016 surpassed it.

There had to be something they could do, Chory would say during those freewheeling conversations in the lab. If human carbon dioxide emissions were the problem, couldn’t plants be part of the solution? After all, plants had been perfecting the art of pulling carbon from the atmosphere for more than 3 billion years.

Around that time, Elizabeth Blackburn, then the Salk Institute president, issued a challenge to the faculty: Do something bigger than your lab. Team up on a project that could change the world.

The institute’s plant biology researchers put their heads together, and the Harnessing Plants Initiative was born.

Some of Chory’s colleagues were surprised by her sudden shift in focus. But not Jack Bolado, who has been her lab manager for more than a decade.

“She is using everything that she’s accomplished to do something focused on the biggest problem out there,” he said. “One last hurrah of her career.”

The initiative’s first challenge was finding a way to make plants better at storing carbon long term. Though the world’s greenery takes trillions of pounds of carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere each year, much of it goes right back to the air when the plants die and their tissue is broken down by microbes.

Wolfgang Busch, a root expert, suggested that plants could be genetically manipulated to put more carbon in their underground parts. This way, their decomposing tissue would be incorporated into the earth, rather than being released into the air. Carbon and other nutrients would be restored to soil depleted by decades of intensive agriculture. And, as an added bonus, deep-rooted plants would be more resistant to flooding and drought.

Next, Joe Noel called the team’s attention to a molecule called suberin, which forms the main component of cork. Each molecule contains dozens of carbon atoms, and the substance is difficult for microbes to break down. If the scientists could get plants to store carbon in this form, it would stay trapped for at least a century — buying time for civilization to shift away from fossil fuels.

The team took multiple approaches to identify the genes they would need to target. In some cases they scrutinized the scientific literature and compared hundreds of wild strains of Arabidopsis in search of desired properties. Then they used gene editing tools to temper or enhance those traits. Another tactic involved soaking Arabidopsis seeds in a chemical that alters DNA, then monitoring how they grew.

In both cases, the researchers looked for plants with the most intriguing qualities. If a sprout was deficient in suberin, that meant a gene related to its production had been knocked out. If another boasted extra thick roots, it also had a mutation worth looking into.

Plants with the right genes could then be crossbred with crops to create the “ideal plant." It would have big, deep roots. It would contain lots and lots of suberin. And it would be able to feed the world.

It wouldn’t be hard to find space to grow this plant: half the world’s habitable land is already devoted to agriculture, which is currently responsible for almost a quarter of global greenhouse gas emissions.

The problem was money. Plant biology has never been a well-funded field of research. But for an experimental program to cultivate a climate-saving plant, there truly was nothing: No National Science Foundation grants. No Department of Agriculture awards. The team applied to all the traditional funding sources and was turned away by every one.

Until Chory gave her speech.

That was a “key moment,” said Busch, who co-leads the Harnessing Plants Initiative. “She used that stage and highlighted not only the work of plant scientists but … this idea of fighting climate change with plant genetics.

“In a way, that set off this sequence of fortunate events that made us successful.”

Shortly afterward, someone suggested that Chory apply to the TED Audacious Project, a collaboration of foundations and philanthropists seeking to fund solutions to the world’s major problems. The program gave Salk $35 million — several orders of magnitude more than the average NSF grant. Then came $30 million from the Bezos Earth Fund (Jeff Bezos of Amazon owns The Washington Post). And millions more from companies such as Sempra Energy and Hess.

“Now we just have to do it,” Chory said. “Doing it is what keeps me up at night.”

The ideal plant

By 2030, scientists say, humanity must cut greenhouse gas emissions almost in half to avoid the most catastrophic consequences of climate change.

“That’s a pretty aggressive timetable,” Chory said. “The question of if it can be done by then is looming large over Wolfgang and me.”

At the start of the decade, the Harnessing Plants Initiative faculty members charted a course they thought would get them where they needed to go. They would spend five years on basic discovery research: Identifying relevant genes in Arabidopsis and crop plant seedlings; using genetic editing techniques or traditional breeding to cultivate those genes in the appropriate crops; conducting small field experiments to see how the plants grow outdoors.

After that they’d have five years for conducting large field trials, scaling up production, and persuading business and politicians to get on board. By 2030, they hoped, ideal crops would occupy half a million acres. By 2035, the plants would sequester 4 to 8 gigatons of carbon dioxide each year — between 10 and 20 percent of humanity’s current annual emissions.

But then the coronavirus pandemic consumed the country and shuttered their lab. Two generations of experimental plants were lost. Still more troubling, Chory says, is the loss of momentum.

“I have to keep cheering people up,” she said.

When Chory finds herself struggling to stay positive, she imagines the future that awaits if people don’t address climate change: Catastrophic fires and devastating floods. Widespread food and water shortages. Destruction of habitats and extinctions of species at a rate not seen in millions of years. “Do you really want your kids to see that?” she asks herself.

And then she envisions the future she still believes is possible: People living in smaller, safer, more sustainable houses. Windmills churning and solar panels gleaming from mountainsides and fields. She pictures acre after acre of farmland planted with engineered crops, their roots reaching deep into rich, healthy soil. She thinks of carbon dioxide concentrations ticking downward — measurable, meaningful change.

Chory’s uncertain health means her own future is a mystery. But she can envision her children, in their 30s, on a planet that is thriving.

“I would like for my kids to be thinking,” she said, “that I did something important for their world.”

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aal-archaeology · 4 years

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Words from a so-far successful archaeologist (25 years old/recent Ph.D. admit)

Hello Everyone! I have revived my Tumblr to find many messages asking “what do I do next” when it comes to Archaeology/Anthropology. So I thought I’d create a post explaining what I went through to get to where I am now, and hopefully give some information to those who are pondering on the next steps to take in this truly wonderful field of study. Quick academic about me:

Undergrad: Ivy League, Major: Anthropology-Geography, Minor: Religion

After Undergrad: 1 year of Cultural Resource Management (CRM) & Substitute teaching

Graduate School: England MSc in Archaeological Information Systems

After Graduate: 10-month long research grant in Cambodia

Now: (USA) Ph.D. Candidate in Anthropology, Archaeology Track

I come from a low-middle class family, all of my academics have been funded through financial aid or through grants that I’ve applied for. A lot of the time school and research can get expensive, but that doesn’t mean you have to be wealthy to pursue it!

Per usual, please feel free to DM me at any point with questions (here or IG @ aal.archaeology), I’m always happy to help to the best of my ability. Success in this field is really dependent on networking!

I’ll set this up based on the various landmarks of my academic career:

1. Undergrad

Themes: Ask for help, build your resume, write down everything

No matter where you are going to school, it is so so so important to use the resources around you. Becoming a professor is HARD work, and each one of your professors went through a lot to be able to stand in front of you and teach you. They’ve likely had years and years of research experience, which is probably still happening behind the scenes of teaching and grading papers. More often than not, professors want to help you, they want students to be excited about the research they’ve worked so hard on, and they want to do what they can to help you achieve your career goals. Therefore, if there’s a class you’ve taken or a professor whose research you’re interested in, tell them. This is how I got my first experience with archaeology (before I even knew that I wanted to do archaeology). I randomly took an Anthropology class that sounded cool, and after the first class, I was like WOW I love this topic so much and I really want to know more about it. I went up to the professor that was teaching it, told her I was really interested and asked if she knew of any research opportunities available. She then hired me as a student researcher in her lab to do data entry for one of her archaeological projects in Mesoamerica, and after working for her for a few months, she asked me if I wanted to go with her and her team to Mexico for fieldwork.

(my timeline at this point: 19 years old, end of Sophomore year)

From this experience, I learned how to apply to grants within the University and funding outside of the University, and was able to FULLY fund my research experience in Mexico. During this fieldwork, I got to work with 3000-year-old artifacts, do archaeoillustration, and eventually got my own chapter published in the book that my professor wrote about the research that was done.

After I got back from Mexico, I started exploring archaeology further. A new professor entered the department who specialized in “digital archaeology,” and his research involved tracking looting patters in Syria using satellite imagery. I thought this was crazy so I then went up to him and asked if I could help him with his research. (the common theme throughout this entire process is just asking for help). From this experience, I learned that I loved the possibilities that technology brought to the study of archaeology, everything from 3D modeling to identification of sites in satellite imagery to spatial mapping in GIS. With this professor, I was able to form an “internship” with him, and continued doing that and other minor projects within the department. I ended up modifying my major to incorporate coursework from the Geography department and created my own “Digital Archaeology” major.

(my timeline at this point: 22 years old, Senior year)

As graduation began to creep closer, I had been able to get a good amount of lines on my resume. I had:

research assistant/ data entry

fieldwork in mesoamerica

x2 internships with digital archaeology prof

multiple “small” projects around the department i.e. making posters, painting 3D prints of bones,

all of the coursework I had done on GIS/ relevant digital experience

started a drone club at my school (it flopped, but it still counts as a line on the resume!)

All of these lines became useful when starting to think of jobs and the “next step”

UNDERGRAD HIGHLIGHTS & TAKEAWAYS:

Ask for help, your professors are there for a reason, it will almost always lead you to new opportunities. These relationships last well beyond your graduation and definitely come in handy later, make it count!

Write down EVERYTHING that you do. Did you help out with a conference? Write it down. Did you do a couple hours of data entry? Write it down.

Follow your leads! I started my anth journey in Mesoamerica and ended my undergrad in Near Easter digital archaeology (and I entered college wanting to do astronomy?). Change is natural, let it happen.

2. Gap Year Between Undergrad and Grad School

Highlights: Job applications, field school, CRM, uncertainty

Something that I was always told during my undergrad was that you really need to do a field school and some CRM to be taken seriously post-grad. This shows that you actually want to be an archaeologist outside of the classroom environment. Field Schools and CRM give you valuable experience such as: excavation methodology, report writing, grant applications, teamwork, leadership, etc.

I started applying for jobs probably about 5 months before I graduated and ended up securing a job at a CRM company in LA. They liked how much I had done during my undergrad, but they really wanted me to have a field school under my belt before I started working for them. Because I had already graduated and didn’t need course credit, I was able to do my field school at a discounted price (these things really do get expensive, and this was a difference of about $2k). I think this worked out in my favor waiting until the summer after I graduated because it saved me a lot of money in the end.

After my field school was done, I started work that September in CRM. This job ended up being nothing like what I thought it would be, to be honest. I was an Archaeological Field Technician that was part-time/on-call, meaning I only got work when they needed someone to go monitor a construction site. I only got work once every month, sometimes every couple of months, so I was making hardly any money. I realized this quickly and decided to become a substitute teacher to supplement the CRM job. I HIGHLY recommend doing this if you end up in the same situation. Not only does subbing fill up all of your non-working days, but it also gives you the flexibility to choose when you can work and gives you teaching experience that you can put on your resume. That CRM experience can be really important, so it’s good to stick it out long enough to quit.

Why didn’t I like CRM? For me, my job was very sparse, included driving long hours to a construction site, sitting there all day in case archaeological material popped up, and then driving home. Sometimes it was just walking back and forth across a massive field full of cow poop looking for arrowheads, and often it felt like I was just clearing land so that a big building could be erected. I was really missing the research component to all of it. The pay was also not great.

GAP YEAR HIGHLIGHTS AND TAKEAWAYS:

What I got from this year was very valuable, even though it wasn’t necessarily that fun, however.

I got the experience I needed in CRM

I got some teaching experience (also volunteered to mentor clubs and research at local high schools during this time)

I started doing some networking (I found some alumni that were doing work that I wanted to be doing and reached out to them)

and most importantly, I realized that I really do love school and wanted to go back for my Masters

So I started looking into Masters's programs. This is kind of a scary thing especially in the US because school is expensive. I still really wanted to do Digital Archaeology, and I couldn’t find a single program in the US had a focus in this topic, and especially couldn’t find one that I was willing to pay for.

The UK, however, had plenty of Digital Archaeology programs, and the programs were only a year long and a fraction of the price in the US. I decided to take a chance and apply, got in, and then suddenly I was moving to England. (in hindsight I really didn’t spend much time at all making this decision, but it worked out in the end).

3. Masters Program

(my timeline at this point: 23-24 years old)

I chose the program I applied to based on its focus on the techniques that I wanted to use, namely, remote sensing, GIS, and 3D modeling. I really wanted a degree qualification that spoke for itself, and therefore applied for an MSc in “Archaeological Information Systems.”

I had done some networking during my gap year and connected with an alumnus who was doing research in Cambodia using digital methods, and she offered me the opportunity to join her fieldwork. I agreed to join her in Cambodia during my degree, and also applied for a research grant for the year following my master's degree to continue fieldwork in Cambodia.

I used this opportunity to fuel my dissertation topic and focused all of my writing and coursework throughout my grad school experience around Cambodia. While I was surrounded by people studying Roman architecture and Medieval Studies, I spent my time doing independent work and building a network in Cambodia.

This program was a great experience for the most part, I was surrounded by beautiful medieval architecture and had a great community throughout. I personally didn’t really like the UK school system compared to what I had received in the US, however. This was largely because of the way coursework was set up. (If you want to know more just DM me).

MASTERS HIGHLIGHTS AND TAKEAWAYS:

Follow networking opportunities, and find someone doing what you want to do (or close to it) and let them help you take the steps to get there

If you’re going to do grad school, do it in something you know you love. Don’t waste money on a program that isn’t right for you.

Make sure that the program you apply to allows for flexibility so that you can do research on what YOU want, not what THEY want.

Halfway through my Master's degree, I received word that I had been accepted for the research grant (Fulbright) and would spend the next year living in Cambodia doing independent research.

4. Gap Year Between Masters Program and PhD

If you’re planning on a Ph.D., I think its a really good idea to do something before applying that relates to what you want to be studying. This shows that you’re dedicated to your research and to a life in academia, and have the ability to produce something from your work.

My master's degree was nice because 1) it was short, only a year-long, and 2) allowed me to focus research on what I was interested in. This gave me the experience I needed to lead into a year of independent research.

This year of independent research was definitely contingent on receiving the grant in the first place, and I think that I would have started job searching again had I not received it. However, the small things I did leading up to applying for it really helped in qualifying me to receive it.

I had:

All of the undergraduate research experience

CRM experience

teaching experience

fieldwork experience

a master’s degree that focused on the region

established a network of people in the country beforehand

a couple “publications” from fieldwork

This grant fully funds me living in Cambodia, and has allowed me to participate in cultural exchange with some amazing people here in addition to allowing me to partake in archaeological fieldwork across the country.

Again, I cannot stress enough how important it is to network. If you like something, find someone else who likes the same thing, send them an email.

Networking got me my experience in Mesoamerica, Digital Archaeology, my CRM job, my research experience in Cambodia, and so so much more. All because I sent that first email.

5. PhD Applications

I applied to 1 school. I got in. Its a really good school. I’m still in shock.

However, I think I really did set myself up for success in this one.

The biggest advice I can give in the world of Academia is:

NETWORK

Talking to people who have gone through what you’re going through are the BEST help. They can mentor you through these experiences, offer you new opportunities, or lead you in the direction of someone else who can help.

PLAN AHEAD (but be open to change)

Okay, so you’re applying to grad school. What do you want to focus on while you’re there? What do you want to do with the degree when you’re done? Do you want to start working? Do you want to do more research? What opportunities are out there for research funding? What is the job market looking for? Is there anyone in my network that can help me get there?

None of these have to be concrete plans, they just have to exist in some shape or form so that you have the ability to latch on to one when the opportunity arises.

If you’re doing something that you love doing, you’ll find a way to make it happen. All opportunity comes from the amount of effort you put into getting it! Thanks for reading and best of luck on your studies! Also Happy Anthropology Day! :) -Lyss

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chenvs3000 · 3 years

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This Is Just The Beginning

Although this class may be coming to an end, our journey as nature interpreters is just beginning. As we reach the end of the semester, I wanted to revisit the three main questions we’ve been asked throughout the semester: (1) who am I as an interpreter, (2) who is my audience, and (3) how can I make this experience meaningful (Beck et al., 2018).

First, who am I as an interpreter? Just because I don’t have a job as a nature interpreter, doesn’t mean I can act as a nature interpreter for the people I interact with in my life. I have two main identities as a nature interpreter: (1) a citizen and (2) a scientist. How I interpret nature in these two roles may differ, but I still feel a moral obligation to spread awareness about nature, conservation, and sustainability everyday.

This class hasn’t necessarily taught me anything new about nature, I know just as much about the environment as I did in January. But the key thing I have learned is how to share this knowledge. As a citizen, I have learned how I can converse with those around me in a way that I can spark an interest in nature and inspire them to live sustainably on their own terms. Nobody likes to be forced or pushed to live a certain way, but effective nature interpretation can inspire people to change all on their own. This is tied to my personal ethical belief that nature interpreters must have autonomy. Autonomy means that individuals have a right to self-determination, that is, to make decisions about their lives without interference from others. This essentially means that we can teach people and try and inspire them to continue their personal journey and relationship with the environment, but at the end of the day we can’t force them or judge them for not being more proactive about conservation. I have also learned new ways to interpret my research findings better as a scientist. I have learned that writing about new findings isn’t enough, and for any type of presentation to be meaningful you must explain why it is important in a broader environmental context. The most important lesson I have learned is that role of interpretation is to make intellectual connections between what the audience already knows and new information I am trying to provide, and make emotional connections so they can learn why something is important and why they should care about it.

Another key aspect about who I am as an interpreter relates to who I am as a person. My privileges, personal learning style, ethics, and beliefs all impact who I am as a person. And while these facets of my identify can sometimes help me connect with my audience, they can also hinder my connection with them as well. For example, my learning styles are spatial and interpersonal. I learn best with mind-maps or charts connecting ideas and bouncing ideas of others and actively discussing topics. It’s quite funny because me and my roommate discovered we have completely opposite learning styles as hers are intrapersonal and logical-mathematical. She often found when we studied together, my talking and disusing would distract her and hinder her from thinking about topics and understanding them – but I couldn’t understand them without talking about aloud with someone else. I used to always approach teaching as if I was trying to teach myself, but I have learned that everyone learns differently so this teaching style isn’t always effective. I have learned that I must manipulate how I present in a way that anyone could understand and learn from my presentation.

A picture I took using self-timer in Killarney, ON with my roommate Sarah - the one with a completely different learning style than me.

Second, who is my audience? Like I said previously, sometimes I’m may be interpreting to my friends and family, and sometimes I may be interpreting in a professional setting to strangers. As an individual, there are certain approaches I can take to spark an interest in nature while I have their attention (Beck et al., 2018). First, you have to approach conversations with a good-natured demeanor, because a brash or confrontation demeanor can cause the listener to feel attacked or not want to listen to what you have to say. This is especially important when talking about touchy subjects or controversial topics like religion, politics, or using live animals for education. I’ve also learned to emirate confidence. I can get nervous especially in front of groups or strangers, so this is easier when I’m talking with close friends and family. But I’ve notice when listening to others speak that confidence promotes engagement and active listening, and really helps the audience believe in the credibility of the facts and be inspired by the information – especially when the presenter is visibly enthralled and excited about the topic. And lastly, I’ve learned that enthusiasm and passion is contagious. The energy you surround yourself with is the energy you bring into your life. I have such a deep love for the environment, but not everyone seems to always think its as cool as I do. But when you speak and are truly excited about what your talking about, you create an atmosphere of inspiration. I pressure my mom not to rake up the leaves this past fall because I learned that leaves can provide over-winter habitat for bees, and provide lots of nutrients for the soil in the spring. She thought I was crazy and hated the idea because “leaves are messy”, but my passion and visible enthusiasm about doing this is what ultimately convinced her that this must be important because of how excited I was about it.

A picture I took of my tree plant crew. I hired this amazing group of people to work on my crew this past summer, and they have listened to many of my passionate talks about nature - teaching them about the importance of replanting forests, and how the results of their work will quite literally live on for 70+ years.

As a scientist, the internet and social media are really some of the only platforms to promote research papers and make new research findings available to the public. Working with professors and academics I have learned that social platforms like Twitter, LinkedIn, and personal websites/blogs are great ways to spread research. Some professors even become guests on podcasts to talk about their research. The mantra in Richard Louv’s book The Natue Principle is that the more high tech our lives become, the more nature we need (Hooykaas, 2021). And while I agree with this belief, this course has also taught me that technology can be a steppingstone to developing a relationship with nature. May people these days live in urban cities where it is difficult to find a place nearby where they can escape and experience nature, and this can be especially impactful for children. But, as we have learned, the internet and virtual teaching approaches can actually be very effective for nature interpretation. Technology can provide a doorway to teach children about nature and provoke their curiosity. Interpreting nature consists of helping people to fall in love with nature and accepting that protecting and conserving something requires us to love it first, and to do so we need to know it. Technology is one of the most effective tools we have to spread environmental messages, and introduce the public to new topics, and hopefully we can inspire them enough to keep wanting to learn and do more.

A screen capture from the website for the lab I work in at Dalhousie University. We use this website, along with twitter and LinkedIn accounts to promote new research papers written by members of the lab. https://www.seafloormapping.ca/

Finally, how can I make this experience meaningful? I’ve touched on this a couple times in the paragraphs above, but I truly believe that the way to make a presentation special is about shifting your audience’s perception. Interpretation is about opening people’s minds to wonder and new ways of perceiving the world, beyond normal every day thinking (Beck et al., 2018). It’s very similar to seeing the world through the eyes of a child, romanticizing the mundane, and learning to love nature in its raw and chaotic forms. In summary, it’s not about making your presentation special, its about showing your audience that nature is special – and as a result your presentation will become inspiring and meaningful. There are certain approaches to do this effectively depending on your audience, but the key role of interpretation is the same no matter who you are or who you are presenting to.

I have two questions for you to think about after reading this post:

(1) In what role(s) do you see yourself applying what we have learned in this class. It could be as a park guide, a parent, a mentor, a researcher, or a friend. (Remember, anyone can be an interpreter)

(2) Looking back, who as been an unexpected/unofficial nature interpreter in your own life. Maybe it’s a family member who first introduced you to nature, or a teacher who took you on a field trip.

Thanks for reading:) - Claire

Sources:

Beck, L., Cable, T.T., & Knudson, D.M. (2018). Interpreting cultural and natural heritage for a better world. Sagamore Venture Publishing LLC.

Hooykaas, A. (2021). Unit 10: Nature Interpretation’s Role in Environmental Sustainability [Course Website]. University of Guelph Courselink. https://courselink.uoguelph.ca/d2l/le/content/666945/viewContent/2597605/View

Hookyaas, A. (2021). Unit 08: The Role of Technology in Nature Interpretation. CourseLink. https://courselink.uoguelph.ca/d2l/le/content/666945/viewContent/2594169/View.

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dovechim · 5 years

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sowing a sapling [2/2] (m)

❀ COWRITTEN WITH @jimlingss please send her some nice messages!!!! she deserves the world (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

❀ Summary: What no one told you about ‘Happily Ever After’s: the next day, you’ll still have to wake up and go about your life as per normal, because life isn’t a fairytale. You thought you had the rest of your life figured out: settling down happily with Jimin, ruling over all of Hogwarts with an iron fist as the Potions Master, and maybe, in the very distant future, starting a family of your own. But life, as usual, decides to throw a wrench in your plans. With a baby on the way and your husband insistently refusing all attempts at initiating sex, the arrival of a gorgeous new student teacher spells disaster for your marriage.

If getting married to Park Jimin was the happiest day of your life, what does it say about the rest of your life?

❀ Warnings: Pregnancy, thigh riding, dry humping, male/female oral sex, fingering, pregnancy sex, mentions of pregnancy related symptoms, lactation, heavy mentions of cheating/infidelity, usage of produce in masturbation, intense jealousy and insecurity.

❀ 23.2k

❀ please read part 1 first! this is a sequel to: A Serpent’s Flower 01| 02

In ten weeks, you’ll be birthing out your precious fungus, aka Jimin’s beautiful sapling, into this horrible world. But in five weeks, you’ll officially be on maternity leave. It’s not exactly ideal to be in labour at Hogwarts, as much as Jeongguk would absolutely love to have you birth the ‘inter-house harmony’ child here.

Luckily, a lot of your anxieties on your career has been eased. The Headmaster has ensured that you and Jimin will have your jobs whenever you chose to return considering you’re valuable assets to Hogwarts. It’s a relief to hear and he already mentioned that he found Jimin’s replacement with Hoseok taking up the helm of Head of Hufflepuff, and an experienced professor will be hired for Herbology. For you, Yuri will become the temporary Head of Slytherin, but Jeongguk has hired someone brand new for potions, a complete outsider without any experience.

In the past, before you were hired, there have apparently been many incidences in regards to potions, things that include having to evacuate the entire castle, accidentally blowing up the classroom, setting students’ hair on fire. You’ll attest that the Hogwarts records aren’t so pretty when it comes to potions, so it’s understandable Jeongguk wants to hire someone brand-spanking new with a fresh approach and who’s not stubborn in their traditional methods.

You’ll admit after two years, he’s starting to get the hang of this whole Headmaster thing.

Everything is perfectly set for you to go on maternity leave and enjoy the rest of your pregnancy before welcoming your baby to the world. But Jeongguk has made one special request (more like he dramatically dropped on his knees to beg you) — to prevent any mishaps, he’s asked you to take the new-hire under your wing as a student-teacher for a month before you leave, just to get her used to things and show her the ropes.

While you’ve never trained someone to do your job before, Jeongguk’s request is reasonable, so it doesn’t take much for you to agree.

And here you are, summoned by Jeongguk during your free-period. When you step inside his office, you immediately notice that there is already someone seated in one of the guest chairs.

Headmaster Jeon rises to greet you, and the newcomer follows suit. She stands, twirling around on her toes, causing her blue skirt and white blouse to ruffle. A blazing smile spreads into her cheeks, rosy lipstick-stained lips tugging.

Time stops. Your breath is stolen away. You’ve been star-struck.

This wasn’t even the reaction you had when you met Jimin. Frankly, you thought nothing of him. Maybe you’ve been so sexually deprived lately, but you swear as you look at her, you wet yourself a little. She is absolutely gorgeous. Even then it’s an understatement.

She is a petite, young woman with delicate features, reminding you of a doll. Her shoulder length chestnut coloured hair is glossy in the candlelight. Her rounded eyes glistening, eyes crinkled slightly. Her skin is so bright and luminous, and her smile absolutely charming as she grins at the sight of you, stepping forward to offer her hand in a handshake.

“Professor _____, this is Ms Ryujin. She graduated from the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, and she is currently pursuing further studies in Potions.”

Beauxbatons. Of course. That’s why she is so utterly beautiful. Next to her you feel like a troll.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Professor ______,” her voice is a light tinkle that dances on the wind, all too soft-spoken. “I am such a fan of yours. I’ve read all your papers and all the books you published! I especially used your dissertation on the things that can go wrong with Amortentia in my own research paper. It’s such an honour to finally meet you! And to be asked to substitute for you…it’s an absolute honour! I don’t know how I’ll ever fill your shoes.”

Her enthusiasm is a stark contrast to your gloominess. You muster up a smile for her as you shake her hand. “Um, wow, thank you…I guess.”

“And congratulations on the pregnancy! You look absolutely gorgeous. I hope I’ll look half as beautiful as you do if I ever decide to have children!”

Now you know she’s lying through her teeth. There’s no way you are beautiful right now. You have dark circles from tossing and turning in bed all night because of your back ache, a few spots on your face here and there due to your overactive hormone levels, and you are as big as a whale. Your bump is visible even from a mile away in these robes, so you just look like a big fat lump waddling around.

But the worst part is that you can’t even sense her disingenuity from her voice. She seems all too sincere and it’s overwhelming. Your smile is tense as you glance at Headmaster Jeon for any input he might have. And he’s smiling, eyes slightly glazed over, looking prouder than ever.

Of course. If you were starstruck, then everyone else is sure to be bewitched by her beauty. “I think you’ll fit right into Hogwarts.”

“I hope so.” She fiddles with her fingers, aura too powerful in femininity. She is fragile, graceful, and you feel less like a woman standing in front of her. “I’m a bit nervous.”

“Don’t be.” Jeongguk is grinning from ear to ear; this is the happiest you’ve seen him since he became Headmaster. Usually he’s always walking around with a stressed out frown or looking as if he’s about to burst into tears. “Professor ______ will help you get used to things. You’ll do great.”

Ryujin shifts to you with sparkling irises. “I’ll be in your care then, Professor ______.”

You take a deep breath. It’s not like you to be envious of someone else and she’s innocent. She hasn’t done anything wrong, but be more than warm towards you. “You’ll do fine. It’s not that bad, trust me, and you don’t have to call me by professor since we’re colleagues now.”

She excitedly nods. “Then….thank you, ______.”

You return her meek smile. “Have you gotten a look around the castle yet?”

“Only a brief glance while I was making my way here.”

“I’ll show you then.” Your lips pull and she nods, picking up her suitcase.

“You’ll be staying in a room near the Potions classroom for easy access,” Jeongguk says. “You’ll probably find it while you’re on your tour. Most of the paperwork is done here as well, but if there’s anything you need then feel free to drop by.”

“Okay, thank you.”

You show her around, to the Great Hall down to the dungeons. The corridors are twisting and easy to get lost in, the maps not that much help either, but you try your best to show her which classroom is which and how the towers connect to different places. She drops off her suitcase in her room too, eager to get settled down later. But as you do your tour, she attracts a parade of students from afar.

You’re no longer the exhibit for people to gawk at. Now everyone’s attention is directed elsewhere as well as a sea of murmurs that ripple on how beautiful she is.

As you waddle through the halls as quickly as your swollen feet can allow, you’re eventually stopped by a first year student. “Um, excuse me.” The red on her robes show she’s a Gryffindor, paired with the way she’s brave enough to come up to you. But she’s not looking at you at all. Her eyes are pinpointed onto the woman beside you. “Are you the new Potions professor?”

Ryujin grins, leaning down and meeting the child at eye-level. “Yes, I am. Are you one of my students?”

“Yes!” The child grins, hopping up and down.

“Nice to meet you then.” Your student-teacher shakes the first year’s hands, both exchanging soft smiles.

“Joy, don’t you have somewhere to be?” you interrupt their little exchange with your hands on your hips and your eyes narrowed. “Why are you loitering the halls? Are you skipping class?”

“I’m heading to the library, Professor ______,” she answers in a curt tone.

But before you can discipline her for speaking to you in that way, Ryuji teases the child, “well, you better be on your way before you get into trouble. I’m looking forward to teaching you.”

The Gryffindor dips her head, smiling, and scampers back to her friends, probably confirming that the gorgeous woman is indeed the new Potions teacher. You catch them celebrating, high-fiving each other and glancing over, and it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

“It’s good to be stricter with the students,” you mention in passing. “If you’re too nice, they’ll take advantage of it.”

Ryujin nods, following you. Her eyes are wide, mouth parted slightly in awe as she takes in the infrastructure of the castle, the large glass windows to the pillars supporting the high ceilings. “Honestly, I love Hogwarts so much. There’s such a sense of family here. Even if you’re divided into houses, it just feels so...warm and cozy. I would’ve loved this place as a student.”

She’s speaking her thoughts aloud and fantasizing. “What house do you think I would’ve been sorted into?”

“Hufflepuff,” you reply after a beat. You don’t know Ryujin that well, but it’s a feeling and your observations so far tells you she would be wonderful in that yellow house. “I think you would’ve done well there. But was it not like that at Beauxbatons?”

The school is prestigious and the faculty is as gorgeous as the students are. You’ve heard nothing, but praises about that school and all the alumni you know are elegant individuals.

“They were a lot stricter with their rules. It wasn’t really as relaxed.”

You hum a note. “I didn’t know that. But you must’ve done well, considering Headmaster Jeon hired you to become a potions teacher.”

“Oh, I just really love potions, so I did well. Out of all the subjects, I was the most passionate about it. It’s like an….art form.” Merlin, she is getting harder and harder to hate as the seconds go by. Maybe you should just cut your losses and part ways now before you fall in love with her or something. “You can’t experiment with spells or charms the way you can with potions. There’s just something about the way the colours change right in front of your eyes as you add ingredients that it’s so….”

“Captivating.”

Your steps are slow, the syllables leaving your mouth in a breathless manner, and you nearly want to slap yourself for sounding this emotional in front of a near stranger. She seems to understand your love for Potions right down to the most intricate details. Maybe the two of you are more alike than you thought. But still, a certain part of you envies her to the point where it almost borders on dislike, even annoyance. The emotions inside you are conflicting, but you chalk it down to hormones.

“Yes, that’s the word.” She smiles, fluttering her lashes and you blink hard, wondering if she is a deity who descended from some otherworldly place. She is soft, sweet, and appears like she’s been crafted out of marble, a masterpiece created by a skillful genius. “But of course, I’m nowhere as good as you are.”

You scoff, tearing your eyes away before you’re caught ogling. “Oh please, you don’t need to be humble. If Jeongguk hired you right away, then you must be good.”

The corners of her lips quirk and she sweeps the area with her eyes as you turn the corner. The glass windows are open, letting in fresh air and there’s vivid greenery outside. “What is this place?”

“It’s the greenhouses. They teach Herbology here. Would you like to take a look?”

Her curiosity is piqued. “Sure, if you don’t mind.”

You exit the castle, walking over to the greenhouses to find Jimin weaving between the benches, monitoring the students and letting them do their own observations as he sits back and encourages them. It’s just like him to let them have a more hands-on approach and you smile.

Your husband catches you toddling over from his peripheral vision and he turns, face lighting up like a bulb flickered on. His strides are quick. “What are you doing here?” He reaches in, planting a kiss on your cheek at your lovely surprise. Jimin makes your heart swell and you feel better already.

Ever since the talk, things have been steadily improving. He’s given you more room to breathe and your mood has generally improved after getting full meals again, even if sometimes they’re greasier foods. “I’m just showing the new-hire around. This is Ryujin.”

You don’t know if your eyes are mistaken, but you swear her cheeks become rosier. “Hello, nice to meet you.”

“Hello.” Jimin rapidly peels off his gloves and shakes her hand. You stare at the way their hands are tightly held, skin to skin. Why couldn’t he have done it with his glove on? “Thank you for helping my wife and I out. We’re very grateful.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I don’t know if I can ever fully replace her.” She lets go of his hand, swallowing and glancing at you. “Congratulations on the baby, by the way.”

“Thank you.” He shifts to face the class, hand gesturing to explain what they’re doing. “We’re just pruning flutterby bushes right now.”

“I see. So these students are...fourth year kids?”

Jimin is pleasantly surprised and his lips lift into a smile. “How did you know?”

Ryujin is bashful and shy. “I made sure to go over all the Hogwarts curriculum just to be sure.”

“You’re very prepared then,” he praises.

“My mother was actually a herbologist too.”

That seems to ignite Jimin’s interest and his brows shoot up. “Really now?”

“She loved plants and flowers and our entire house was full of them,” Ryujin admits with a sheepish smile while inhale the fresh air surrounding her.

“Then you must know what this is.” He picks up a pair of shears from the table and walks over to a bush, crouching down to snip the stem of a flower. She takes it when he hands it to her and brings it to her nose for a delicate sniff. The flower is a bright pastel pink, abundant in petals, scent so overpowering that you can smell it from where you are.

Your jaw drops. Is this actually happening right in front of your eyes right now? Park Jimin is practically pulling the same fucking moves on her as he did on you.

The intelligent young woman knows after taking a moment to deliberate. “It’s a muggle flower. A...carnation. Used for decoration and aesthetic purposes.”

“You’re right.” Jimin gives a cheesy grin, happy to find someone who appreciates plants like he does. “Now I know you’re not a fraud.”

She giggles in response and you’re appalled. They act like you’re not even here. You could fade into the background, disappear, transfigure yourself into a bird and no one would even notice. Your wish to be invisible has finally been granted and you hate it.

But Jimin isn’t the only one who shows her more than a warm welcome. By lunchtime, the entire faculty of staff and students are out of control. There are seventh year students who run out of their classrooms just to catch a glimpse of her walking past, second years sticking their heads out of windows, fifth years who ran half across the castle to join the crowd. The children look on with admiration and wonderment.

There are insistent murmurs amongst the other professors as well and several seats at the Grand Hall are saved for her, practically fighting for her to sit next to them.

Ye Eun mumbles, jealous at the attention, and you can’t believe there would be a day you two could bond over the exasperation you feel. You get it. Really. She’s not only easy on the eyes, but lovely to be around too. But is it really necessary to act like she’s a celebrity? And it’s so entirely unprofessional of the faculty members to be salivating over her. You just—

“Is that really your replacement?”

You’re startled out of your trance by Taehyung sliding next to you. His eyes are pinpointed ahead to where Ryujin is laughing, accepting chocolates from a second year female student. You nearly open your mouth to warn her about how dangerous it is to accept food from students, based on personal experience, but then you decide that your quality of life might just improve a tad bit if she just happened to be turned into a toad.

“Yeah, why?”

“She’s gorgeous,” he says, drooling already, and you roll your eyes. “Tell me, what are her likes and dislikes?”

“If I tell you, what are you going to do with that information?”

“Obviously talk to her.” Taehyung finally looks at you and he adds on quickly, “and maybe use it to smash her later.”

“You are so disgusting.”

“What? Any man or woman with two eyes are thinking the exact same thing as I am. Haven’t you thought that she’s ridiculously attractive?”

“Can you treat her with more respect?” You evade his question and cross your arms. “She’s not a piece of meat.”

“I know.” He sighs, downcasting his head and ashamed at his blatant rudeness to a future colleague. “You’re right.”

For once, someone agrees with you and you take a second to bask in it. “Of course, I’m righ— Hey! Where are you going?”

The idiotic Head of Gryffindor approaches her with blind confidence in every stride. His hand extends and he flashes his boxy smile towards the female. “Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met. My name is Kim Taehyung. I am the Divination professor here at Hogwarts.”

“Oh, hello, Taehyung.” She shakes his hand, offering a kind smile as she stares up at him.

“I love your blouse,” he points out after he lets go.

“T-thank you.” The student-teacher is slightly caught off guard, used to people asking her if she’s the new teacher, where she came from, where she’s staying, how long she’ll be here for, or she’s showered in superficial comments. “I got it on sale.”

“Really?” Taehyung is genuinely interested and his brows shoot up. “Where?”

You’re not sure if you’re impressed or not. On one hand, Taehyung sounds like he wants to buy the white blouse for himself. But on the other hand, you have to admit he’s smoother than the others and much less creepy, intrusive and more courteous.

For the rest of the day, Ryujin follows you. It’s a bit unfamiliar for you to have someone shadowing you, but you don’t mind showing her the ropes and having a person help you out in the classroom, even if she is a cause for distraction. You go over protocol for accidents and emergencies, show her where you keep your books, where the potions closet is, how to get ingredients for potions needed, and what your lessons plans look like. Luckily, she is a fast learner and writes down everything on her little notepad.

Aside from your own personal biases, you really can’t find anything to complain about her.

She is a joy to work with. She is pleasant. She’ll make a great replacement. But something about her just bothers you to no end, and it keeps you awake longer than usual that night in bed.

“Jimin…” You shuffle a bit and he hums softly as an answer, breath on the back of your neck.

At this stage of your pregnancy, you feel stuffy quickly, but you always let Jimin have his five minutes of cuddling in bed. He spoons you from behind as you lay on your left side, his hands around your torso and sprawled on your stomach, your hands on top of his while you both feel the baby move occasionally. It’s intimate, cozy, and you feel safe in his embrace like this.

“What do you think of Ryujin?” you ask him, murmuring in the quietness of the night.

“Seems nice,” he whispers sleepily.

“Just nice?” Your lashes flutter open and you wonder if he’s acting apathetic to spare your feelings. “She’s really gorgeous.”

“I guess.” Jimin holds you closer, your legs tangling together with his. You’ve found the sweet spot, pillow positioned in the right place, husband supporting you as well. It’s comfortable, something you don’t experience so much anymore, but you know in a few hours, the position will be lost when you have to get up for another bathroom break. “I was surprised when she said her mother was a herbologist.”

“Mhm. She’s young, intelligent, optimistic, lovely to be around…”

“Are you jealous?” he asks, feeling more awake than before. You can feel the curve of Jimin’s smile on the back of your neck. He presses a gentle kiss to your skin and you hold back a shudder as goosebumps raise on your arms.

“I’m not,” you mutter with a pout he can’t see. “Honestly, you should be on edge because I might leave you for her. She has a passion for potions, y’know, and that really gets me going.”

Your husband giggles quietly and he nuzzles into your hair. “Guess I have competition then.”

“But be honest, what do you think of her?” You’re not sure why you’re probing so much. You don’t know what kind of answer you’re looking for. But you want to know what he’s truly thinking. “I just want to know your opinion,” you add on, “since she’s going to be my substitute and all. It matters to me what you think. And…T-Taehyung said he’d smash her.”

“Taehyung is a horndog. He’d smash anything that walks on two legs.” Jimin has his lips against your neck as he hums, so that you can feel the pleasant vibrations throughout your body. “I think…I think she’ll be a great replacement. She’ll do a great job because you’ll teach her well. Hogwarts won’t even notice we’re gone.”

The last part of his sentence stings a little. Granted, it definitely wasn’t Jimin’s intention to make you feel replaceable, but face it, everyone likes to be needed. And especially during such a vulnerable time in your life, feeling overly bloated and entirely insecure, this is the kind of thing that slowly eats away at you when it normally wouldn’t affect you otherwise.

But you let it go without a word. You have to choose your battles, after all.

Feeling his firm warmth against your back makes you crave for more of his touch. A part of you is hesitant to do anything for fear of getting rejected again, but the more carnal part of you decides that you have nothing to lose anyway. You can feel his crotch right up against your ass where you want it, and ignoring the fact that it isn’t even close to being hard yet, you nestle back against him slightly. Your ass rubs against his cock as you sandwich it between your cheeks, and you can feel a brief stirring in his length before Jimin shuts you down again with a platonic kiss on your cheek.

“Baby, I’m tired. Let’s just go to sleep, hmmm?”

Your heart sinks in your chest, and tears well up in your eyes, although from this position, Jimin can’t see a single thing. Nodding briefly, you turn to hide your face in the crook of your arm, hide your tears from your husband even though you can feel his half hard cock against you. But it soon subsides, however, as Jimin drifts off to sleep behind you, and you are left lying awake with a tearstained pillow.

That night you dream of your dear husband and a petite, young woman with rosy cheeks.

*//*

Today is the first day of official classes where you’ll be sitting off to the side and observing Ryujin take over your class on her own. Most of the fourth year students in this class have been well trained by your no nonsense methods, but the moment they step into class and see Ryujin at the front instead of you, they whisper excitedly amongst themselves.

Once everyone is settled down, you move to the front of the class again, standing beside Ryujin’s petite figure as you address the class. Today she is wearing a standard black cloak, almost the same as the one you are wearing, but somehow she makes it look more fashionable than you could ever dream of.

“Good morning, fourth years. Today we’ll be learning how to make a Wit Sharpening Potion… which I suspect might come in handy for some of you here,” you narrow your eyes as you make your customary scan across the classroom, pleased when students avoid your gaze in terror. “Before I hand the class over to Professor Ryujin, I’d like to remind you once again that just because I am sitting off to the side, that does not mean I won’t punish any transgressions. There shall be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Professor _____,” the class answers like a well oiled machine.

“Good,” you smile, and turn to your textbook, flipping to the appropriate page…except you can’t remember what your lesson plan is today. Damn it, you just said it moments ago…what potion was it? This is a fourth year class, so it’s either Girding or Wit Sharpening…

Ryujin seemingly senses your struggle and smiles prettily at you as she stops your page at the Wit Sharpening Potion. “Professor_____, are you feeling alright? Maybe you should go sit down. I think I got it from here.”

Inwardly seething more from embarrassment and annoyance at yourself than anything else, you quietly leave her at the blackboard and take a seat at the back of the class, magicking a cushion onto the hard chair so that you can be more comfortable. As you observe the student teacher from here, it’s painfully obvious that she has a way with the students, they like her so much that they are paying 110% attention, and it looks as if she really enjoys teaching Potions as well. Every flick of her hair, wave of her wand and gracious movements as she prepares the ingredients perfectly has you and the students mesmerized.

Your job as Potions Master might very well be in danger.

In the middle of class, one Ravenclaw girl suddenly shoots her hand up. “Professor Ryujin!”

She comes over instantly, a concerned look on her face as she smiles at the student. “Ah, Yeri, what’s wrong?”

“I think my ginger root has mould on it…would it still be alright to use?”

Ryujin picks up the root and examines it for a moment, her pretty forehead creasing a little. Finally, she glances at you, a little unsure, and you jump at the opportunity. This is the fastest you’ve ever moved since you got pregnant.

The root seems far too mouldy to be included in the potion, and doing so would only result in disastrous consequences.

“Does anyone else have a mouldy root? Please check your ingredients carefully before tossing them into your cauldron and killing us all,” you say to the rest of the class, setting aside the ginger root in your hand and turning to Ryujin. “I’ll have to go down to the greenhouse and get more ginger root. While I do that, could you occupy them with something else?”

Ryujin is quick to object. “Oh no, Professor ______, I’ll go instead! You shouldn’t be walking too much in your condition — I imagine it would be tiring for you. Who should I speak to at the greenhouse? Would Professor Park be in now by any chance?”

You hesitate a beat at the mention of your husband’s name. That is precisely why you wanted to go to the greenhouse by yourself in the first place — you know that seeing your husband’s face always improves your mood. And especially considering he has his free period right now, you could even sneak in a quickie in the greenhouse — no one would be the wiser.

“Um…” But with all the students’ attention on you, you are hard pressed to turn her kind intentions down. “Yes, he’ll be in now. Just…ask him for some ginger root. It shouldn’t take long, he probably already has them harvested.”

Your last sentence was meant as a subtle warning for her not to attempt anything foolish alone in the greenhouse with your husband, but Ryujin doesn’t seem to be able to read between the lines as she grins brightly, telling you to take a seat before turning on her heel and heading for the door. You stare after her longingly, wishing to have that kind of mobility once more as she disappears.

The next few moments of class seem to pass by painfully slowly. You’ve assigned the students to write an essay on the benefits and side effects of Wit Sharpening Potion and how they can be remedied, so you are currently almost dozing off in your seat. Blame the stupid pregnancy for tiring you out so much. It’s entirely irrational to believe that Jimin would ever do anything to hurt you or that Ryujin would do anything that isn’t professional, but your mind can’t seem to stop flashing images beneath your eyelids.

You glance at the clock every now and then to document the minutes going by, but it only makes waiting even more torturous as your traitorous brain cooks up all kinds of scenarios as to what Ryujin and Jimin might be doing together in that greenhouse at that very moment.

The greenhouse is known to be humid and steamy. A perfect place for two extremely good looking people to get close and intimate, sweating their passion for each other in a place no one really bothers to check.

Merlin, all this is driving you absolutely nuts. You snap at a boy who asks if he can be excused to use the restroom, making him almost pee his pants.

After what seems like ages, you hear a light, airy voice coming from outside the classroom, accompanied by a deeper chuckle that you recognise immediately. You push yourself off your seat and waddle to the door, only to find Ryujin and Jimin talking and laughing intimately with each other as they approach your classroom.

Jimin is holding a sack of ginger root, his dress shirt pushed up to above his elbows to reveal his wiry forearms, and the sight alone makes your mouth water. His purple hair is pushed off his forehead, slightly damp, and his skin looks to be a little sweaty. Instantly, your suspicion is triggered, but before you can think any further, the two of them have entered your classroom.

“Here you are, this should be enough to last you a week!” Jimin grins as he sets down the heavy sack on the floor, grinning at Ryujin.

“Thank you so much, Professor Park,” she is overly enthusiastic in her gratefulness, touching Jimin’s arm lightly to express her thanks. Your throat immediately dries up when you see how casually she touches your husband.

You clear your throat to remind the two lovebirds that you are in fact standing right in front of them.

Jimin turns to you with the smile still on his face, as if seeing you for the first time since he stepped into your classroom. “Oh, hi, baby! I was just helping Ryujin here with this. It’s a little heavy, and the walk from the greenhouse to the dungeons is pretty far, so…”

“I forgot the way I came from, so he had to show me,” she says sheepishly, “I couldn’t have done it without him. Thank you, Professor Park. You’re very kind.” Ryujin is practically gushing over your husband at this point, and it takes every bit of willpower you have in you not to roll your eyes.

Jimin, as usual, is a sucker for praise, and he laps it all up like a hungry kitten. He beams at her compliments, the smile reaching all the way to his eyes as he runs a hand through his hair in embarrassment. This won’t do. The longer you have to stand here and witness their little love affair, the more stress you’re putting on the baby. The baby in this situation being you.

“Jimin, don’t you have class too in a bit?” You prompt him.

“Oh, well yeah I do, but there’s still some time,” he glances at the clock before looking at you. Then, he turns to Ryujin. “How is your first day of class going? Do you need any help with anything else?”

“I think I’m fine for now.” She nods and gives a pretty smile, timidly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I’ll definitely ask you if I need anything.”

His eyes lock into hers. “Alright.”

“Don’t forget to water that malloweed,” Ryujin adds on in a teasing tone, arms behind her back and leaning to the side slightly with a secretive smile on her face.

“I won’t forget.” Your husband laughs heartily, looking all too happy. “I owe you that extra-sweet butterbeer, right?”

Before he can slip out, you interject with narrowed eyes. “Malloweed?”

“Don’t worry about it.” The smile is still lingering on Jimin’s face and he pats your head once before passing by. “I’ll see you later.”

He exits and you swear there’s a skip in his step. Ryujin glances at his retreating figure before walking away, handing out the ginger root to the students who need them. In the meantime, you’re stuck in your spot, bones and muscles unable to move. But your left eye twitches and there’s a tap on your arm.

Your neck cranes downwards. “Professor, how do we know if the Wit Sharpening Potion is a success?”

The student who is asking this stupid question that gets on your already infuriated nerves fidgets on the spot in front of you. You close your eyes in exasperation, wishing you could tell him to just pour the entire cauldron down his throat and see if it has really worked or not.

You send him a scathing look, and it’s enough to send him scurrying away.

It’s absurd to question Jimin’s loyalties. He is your husband for goodness sakes and you know as well as anyone that he only has eyes for you. But as unreasonable as you know your suspicions are, you begin to question if they are irrational or not. Maybe you’re the one who’s been blinded by his love. Is it really so aberrant to believe there could be something going on?

“Is there something that you need help with, Professor ______?”

Ryujin stops, noticing that you’re struggling to get the brass scale from the bottom cabinet with your enormous belly in the way. Before your lips can part and tell her you’re fine, she moves downwards and grabs it. You sigh, but then the collar of her robes flutter and your eyes latch onto the skin of her neck.

“Merlin! Are you alright?!” Your hand latches onto her shoulder in alarm as she rises. There are students who turn around, but when you cast a sharp glance, they all turn around to mind their own business. Your voice lowers, frantically whispering to the confused girl, “did you get attacked?”

Her brows furrow. “Pardon?”

“You have bruises on your neck,” you murmur.

But immediately, her hand comes up to cover them and her face blooms into a shade of scarlet. Still, she can’t completely cover the splotches of blue and purple made across her flesh, down to her collarbone, like a vine of flowers made and by the soft petals of someone’s lips…..lips...

The corners of your lips fall. Your eyes glaze over. The realization slams into you.

They’re not just bruises.

They’re hickies.

Ryujin downcasts her head and quickly fixes her collar, hiding her neck from plain view. She swallows hard, avoiding eye contact with you. “Oh, I—….uh….I think I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” your voice is deadpanning, zero emotions leaking into your blank expression. But your jaw ticks and you feel your patience being tested. It’s the calm beneath the storm. “You didn’t have them before.” At least, you didn’t notice them before she headed to the greenhouse. Were they there before? In your mind’s eye, her skin was pure and pristine, which only means one thing...

“I...umm….I might head to the infirmary after class then. I think it’s just a bug bite.”

“Yup. You should get that checked out. Wouldn’t want to be bitten by something and die.”

Your last word is punctuated with a stiff, glassy smile hiding a thinly veiled threat. But before she can say anything more, a student raises their hand to ask a question and Ryujin saunters over. As you grip the brass scale on the table, you nearly bend the entire metal apparatus in half.

There is no way. No way. You can’t believe it. You won’t.

But you would have to be a complete idiot to be in denial.

*//*

You’re actually going insane.

For the sake of you and your child, as well as not bursting a blood vessel at your forehead, you take deep breaths to lower your high blood pressure. You try your best to remain positive, but optimism has never been your strong point. It’s intrinsic for you to jump to the worst conclusions, to rely on your rationale and prepare for the worst. While these traits have helped you all your life, they’re making you go crazy now.

When dinner rolls around, you pick at the food in your plate. The seat beside you is empty, saved for your dear husband, but he never shows up. You wait and wait, hopes high, but crushed every time you catch someone entering the Great Hall, only for it to be a student. The amount you exhale in disappointment would be enough to fill an entire room. It’s not like you can eat either and take your mind off of it. You’re unable to swallow your food, having no appetite, finding it too difficult to swallow. Everything that you were once craving has become unappetizing.

“______!” Taehyung interrupts your deep trance with a shout, startling you. “I was calling you ten times! What’s wrong with you? You’re never so out of it.”

“Nothing.” You put your fork down. “What do you want?”

The Divination Professor scratches the back of his neck. “Do you know where Ryujin is?”

“What?” You sit straighter, eyes sweeping around the table. You didn’t even notice. “She’s not here?”

Taehyung shrugs, plopping down on the empty seat you had been saving. “I thought you would know since she’s suppose to shadow you, right?”

Immediately, you abandon your dinner, tottering off and disregarding the way Taehyung calls your name. You don’t turn back. Your steps are quicker than they’ve ever been. You hold your stomach, supporting the weight, and when students greet you as they pass, you only hum, never slowing down. You’ve become the Hogwarts Express, soldiering on full speed ahead without stopping for anyone.

Wobbling through the twisting hallways, down two sets of moving staircases, you make it all the way to the greenhouses, moving towards Jimin’s office. As you get closer, you catch the light underneath the door, telling you he’s inside and you breathe a sigh of relief.

You really thought there was something going on.

Your hand wraps around the doorknob and as you hear shuffling inside, you part it, deciding to surprise him. But before you can call his name, you’re interrupted by a soft, feminine gasp.

“I’m so sorry!”

The door shoves open, thundering against the wall. You are met with a scandalous sight. “What the hell?!”

The two of them turn to face your rage, the way your features are twisted up hideously, your brows furrowed deep enough to crease permanently. Jimin’s sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair, hair swept back with a long day’s of sweat built as his hairline. His lips are plush, parted slightly, hands placed on Ryujin’s hips to support her. And she is sitting right in his lap, on his thick thighs, her legs together on the side, palms placed delicately on his shoulders.

Their eyes are large and rounded, like deers in headlights. Instantly, Ryujin stands to her feet, posture straight, as if she can undo what you’ve just witnessed. Her cheeks are tinged pink and she brushes a strand of hair away from her face behind her ear. But you don’t buy her shy act anymore. She’s sly, more so than you are. “I-uh….accidentally tripped and fell over.”

Your arms cross, foot tapping, teeth gritting down and doing everything you can not to march over and grab a fistful of her glossy hair, rip those long strands from her scalp as you scream at her audacity to attempt to seduce your husband. “Uh-huh.”

“What are you doing here, baby?” Jimin smiles like nothing just happened. You can’t believe this. Your husband just got caught with another woman practically gyrating on his lap, and he doesn’t even have the decency to look guilty. His eyes light up and he gets to his feet, the corners of his mouth lifting as his eyes crinkle into half moons.

“I could ask you the same thing,” your voice is sharp, glare hard enough to kill, but it has no effect on him. “You weren’t at dinner.”

Your husband grins wolfishly, brighter than the sun. He is mischievous, joking around without being aware of the dire situation. “Did you miss me?”

When he touches your arm, you shrug it off, stepping back. “What were you doing?”

Jimin’s expression falls at your coldness. Ryujin quickly steps in, coming to stand beside Jimin and trying to help. She doesn’t know that it’s making it worse to see them side by side, so close together. “It’s not his fault. I actually asked Jimin for a Hufflepuff robe. I wanted to try it on and see what it would be like since you told me I would probably be sorted in the Hufflepuff house.”

“You, see?” Jimin smiles again, stepping aside and lifting his hand to hold your arm. His eyes sweep the expanse of Ryujin, the way robe drapes her body and the bright yellow seems to make her eyes glimmer more. “It looks good on her, right?”

“Perfect.” The syllables are bitter and passive aggressive. It sickens you to see the two Hufflepuffs next to each other. Indeed, they are perfect together. You don’t even ask if Ryujin is wearing Jimin’s own personal robes — the way they look loose on her frame is enough of an answer.

You were wrong before. She shouldn’t be in Hufflepuff. She’s a Slytherin through and through, though the thought of having this sly little witch tarnish your beloved House’s hallowed reputation almost makes you throw up. You underestimated her right from the beginning. She was clearly out to seduce Jimin all this time.

It’s awkward. Stiff. You’re glaring at Jimin and he blinks a few times before returning your glare, made less of anger and more in a scolding manner. He frowns at you and you’re flipping through the numerous hexes in your mind, wondering if you can curse him without moving.

The both of you are waging a silent war with each other through your heated gazes while Ryujin is breaking into a cold sweat at the atmosphere. The air is suffocating and she clears her throat to excuse herself. “I...I should go. Umm...I’ll return this to you tomorrow, Jimin. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem.” He’s the first to tear his eyes away from you, smiling and nodding towards the younger witch. She opens her mouth to bid you farewell, but then smartly shuts it when you don’t cast her a glimpse. Her footsteps scatter away until there’s silence in the room.

The silence extends until your frozen heart beats ten times.

“Are you upset?”

“What do you think?”

Jimin grimaces. “Why are you so upset? I was only helping her since she asked me. If it’s because I didn’t show up to dinner on time then next time I’ll make sure that—”

“Why was she in your lap, Jimin?”

His mouth opens and then it closes. “It was an accident.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes to the back of your skull. “Yeah, right.”

When you were caught straddling Jimin late at night in the classroom and Hoseok walked in, you both brushed it off as an accident too; only Hoseok left the two of you with a knowing smile on his lips. Did he really think you were such an idiot? It’s insulting. Even if it was an accident, you saw the look on his fucking face. He loved every second of it. Was it such a coincidence that Ryujin has been flirting with him? That she suddenly had hickies all over herself after going to the greenhouse?

“What—” He’s made speechless, but you don’t give him any more time of day. “W-where are you going?!”

“None of your business,” you sass him.

It’s easier to breathe when you’re alone in the corridors. You don’t have to be around frustrating people, people whom you love but disappoint you. Everyone is just disappointing, and it feels better to be alone. But of course, there’s a stirring feeling in your stomach and you look down, patting your swollen tummy as the baby shifts around.

You’re not so alone after all. “You wouldn’t betray me, right?”

The fungus inside you kicks you straight in the gut and you cower over, choking on the air, breath lost in your lungs. “Fuck, dammit!” The rule of not swearing anymore since the baby can hear you is thrown out the window. “Child and father, all the fucking same!”

If there are ghosts wandering the hallways, then they steer clear of in your path of wrath.

That night, you end up going to bed a lot earlier than usual. You can’t focus on marking, can’t eat much, and you most definitely don’t want to wait around for Park Jimin to show his stupid face around here.

He enters a few hours later and you don’t know where he’s been or what he’s been doing. Or who. But he tiptoes and stays quiet, crawling into bed and he curls up behind you. His arms come around carefully to embrace your frame, hands sprawled onto your stomach where the baby’s foot is. Your legs tangle ever so slightly and you feel his breath against the back of his neck.

Your own breath is held and you finally open your eyes in the darkness. You’re not asleep like he thinks you are.

He smells like florals, but not in the same way as when he works in the garden.

The scent is sweeter. It’s perfume.

*//*

It never gets better. In fact, it gets worse.

You wake up smiling at Jimin and he smiles back, never mentioning the previous night again. He falls into your trap, thinking that everything is good and that there’s no misunderstanding after you got time to cool off. Little does he know when he turns around and goes about his day, you’re seething.

“You’re smiling a lot lately.” The corners of your lips pull, nearly cracking at the stiffness. “Did something good happen?”

“No, not really.” Jimin secures his dark, plaid blazer. He fixes his sleeves, pushing up the round spectacles he’s decided to wear today and at your prolonged staring, he grins a cheesy smile and walks over, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your lips. It’s sweet and all too brief. “I’m just happy that you’re happy too.”

“What?” You quirk your head, poking his shoulder once. “You didn’t like my mood swings?”

Your husband is sheepish and he admits, “they were a bit out of hand. I felt like I was walking on eggshells all the time. Did you sleep well last night?”

“Hahahahaha…” The moment he turns around, your mouth falls into a straight line and your exaggerated laughter ceases. “As well as a human beach ball would. It was a little stuffy.” You notice the way the purple strands of his hair are slicked back, showing his forehead and brows. “You did your hair today?”

“Yeah.” Jimin seems to ponder over your words for a second as he glances at your figure, before adjusting his bangs a little. His fingers dance along the spines of the bookshelf by the sofa, picking up a new pregnancy book to read for the day. “Do you like it?”

“It’s nice. You ironed your robes too?”

“Gotta look good if I want the day to be good.” Jimin beams at you.

Liar. He just wants to look good for a certain young female teacher who’s obedient and submissive in personality, every man’s wet dream.

But you don’t call him out on it. Oh no. Your tactics have changed. No more tears. No more angry tantrums. No more arguments. You are on observation mode, a hawk in the sky who watches in the shadows. You’re not a brainless Gryffindor, an emotional Hufflepuff, or an aloof Ravenclaw. You are a Slytherin. Head of Slytherin, in fact. The emerald colours on your robes remind you that you have always been a snake.

You are ambitious. Cunning. Resourceful. And you’re going to catch him red-handed so there’s no more denying, so that he can’t make any more excuses.

Only then will all of this be laid to rest.

Today, Jimin has graciously blessed you with his presence in your classroom once more, even though he has to cut short his lunchtime in order to make it for his own class. You suspect it’s more to do with a certain witch with a petite frame and melodious voice than you needing extra help.

From your position outside the classroom, you observe the two lovers. It physically sickens you to go any closer to them, so you settle with watching them from afar, on the pretense of needing the restroom. All the better to find the concrete evidence you need, anyway.

Ryujin is blushing, her pretty cheeks tinted a rose pink as she glances at Jimin. “Jimin, you’re such a patient man…I can’t imagine how you deal with Taehyung’s antics every single day. Did you know, the other day he tried to trip me? I almost fell into his lap!!”

Jimin laughs, a sound that travels across the room and makes your stomach flip at the familiarity of it. “Did he? He can be quite the prankster sometimes. Did you get hurt? If his pranks become too much, I can speak to him and tell him to dial it down.”

“Oh, Jimin, you’re so nice!” Ryujin giggles in response, and you roll your eyes. What’s so funny about what he just said? This entire conversation is duller than the fifth annex of your favourite Potions textbook.

Jimin grins back at her, utterly infatuated with her angelic smile. “Oh- here, let me get that for you!”

“T-thank you.”

You slink from the corner, glancing through the gap of the door. You watch how your husband is reaching up to the top shelf to grab a tray of phials. He’s standing behind her as his arm extends and you scrutinize the way her round ass is practically rubbing all over his front as she giggles.

But before you can bust down the door with an ‘ah-ha!’, he’s moved back and Seokjin’s wandered into the room, excitedly telling Jimin about how he’s helping the Prefects catch whoever’s been breaking into Professors’ offices at night.

The pair of them are laughing all the time together. When Ryujin isn’t complimenting Jimin and they’re not flirting, then they’re making eye contact across the room, eye fucking each other. In the span of a week, they have their own inside jokes, and they’re touching each other all the time. Whether it’s a brush on the arm, on a hand on the shoulder. It mocks you considering how you’ve been physically starved for months now.

“What’s this?”

You’re holding the bouquet of marigolds that Jimin just handed to you, pretty flowers tied together with a red ribbon.

“What does it look like?” Jimin teases. After two years, he’s honed his own special flowers just for you. You no longer need to touch the stem for the petals to ripple into your favourite shade. Being in mere proximity of it has changed the colour of the flowers and when Jimin’s in the same room as you, they turn into a swirl of sunny yellow and emerald.

“Why?”

“Why not?” He shuffles his papers on the table into neat piles. His irises twinkle when they glance up at you. “Can’t I give my beautiful wife flowers sometimes?”

You hate it — not the flowers or the bisque shade that reminds you of blazing fires on Hogsmeade trips. You hate that the gesture that would’ve once made your heart melt is now ridden with suspicion. It’s unbearable to look at the florals when all you can think of is that it’s a tactic to sway you and make you think otherwise.

You put them down; resisting the urge to light them on fire with your wand. “I should go wash the dishes—”

“Already done them.” Your husband smiles. “You can just sit back and relax. I have a few errands to run before I can join you.”

Your voice is weak. You feel your resolve wavering. “Where are you going?”

“I extended my office hours for sixth and seventh years.” As Jimin takes his briefcase and passes, he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek. His gaze is full of endearment….or pity, you’re not sure anymore. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it since Ryujin’s helping me.”

“R-Ryujin?”

“She knows more about herbology than I thought and it’s nice to get fresh insight. At this rate, she might take both our jobs.”

You stop him before he walks out the door. Your facade begins to crumble, hand on his arm shaking, lips trembling. “D-Don’t you think you’re getting too close to her?”

“Why are you bringing this up?” Jimin smiles automatically like the two years you’ve been together has trained him to do so. His arm lifts and he pats your head once and as his hands fall, he strokes your stomach gently.

“....no reason.”

“I’m just being friendly. We should welcome new staff to Hogwarts, right? I just keep thinking that it must be hard for her since she’s so young and she’s joining by herself. At least when I joined, you also joined, so we were the newbies together.”

“Yeah, but maybe you should cool it,” you plead, looking up at your husband.

He takes a second of consideration and the corners of his mouth lifts. “Are you jealous?”

Once again, he’s evaded your request. He’s evaded all insinuations of him and the young woman being something more. And he doesn’t know how much it breaks you inside, how you’ve been trying to convince yourself you’ll just catch him and end this, how you could even possibly…...possibly end this.

It takes all of your composure, all of your inner strength to smile at him, even if it’s strained. “Why would I be?”

“That’s right. That’s my girl.” Jimin kisses your lips briefly, smacking his mouth on yours, smiling against your skin as he pulls away. “Love you.”

The door slams as he leaves. Gone. You’re by yourself, holding onto your stomach as your baby stirs inside. “Love you too….”

You don’t buy it.

Not one bit.

And you never thought the day would arrive when Jimin is tormenting you more than you are tormenting him. You’ve always worried that you were the one who would eventually wear down his spirit, that he would become broken by you, that one day he would look at himself in the mirror and hate himself, hate the life that he’s led. But you were mistaken.

It’s not like that at all.

You’re the one who’s being worn down.

*//*

“Yeah, she’s totally fucking someone.” Ye Eun is spiteful, loitering at the back of the Great Hall as you join her, crossing your arms.

“How do you know?”

“Just look at her. She’s smiling so much and her skin is glowing. Her cheeks are always rosy for a reason. She keeps batting her lashes back and forth too. It’s so obvious,” the Magical Creature Professor spits out. You take deep breaths, stroking your stomach, trying to not get an aneurysm. “It’s so unfair.”

“What are we talking about?” Taehyung joins with a rectangular grin, huddling up back with you like you’re in your sixth year sharing secrets and immaturely gossiping.

“Ryujin is sleeping with someone.”

“Oh?” Taehyung’s interest is piqued and his brow lifts. “Who?”

Ye Eun shrugs. “I don’t know.”

The Head of Gryffindor laughs heartily. “Well, if you don’t know then you shouldn’t spread rumours around.” He arrogantly walks off before shouting at a first year to be careful, right before they’re about to slip in the puddle of pumpkin juice they didn’t notice on the floor.

Ye Eun huffs out in annoyance. “Why is everyone taking her side?!”

You don’t know. But you do know one thing. You can’t just sit back and watch Jimin being stolen right from under your nose like this. You have to do something.

Slytherins are cunning and sneaky. You have come from a long lineage of Slytherins — you are surer than sure that it runs in your blood. You won’t be upstaged by some cutesy little witch who thinks she can come into Hogwarts and play dress up in someone else’s husband’s robes. This adrenaline and rush of confidence is all that fuels you as you casually take a seat opposite her, with Ye Eun filling in beside you.

“Ryujin, you have to let me know your skincare routine. You’re just glowing lately, even more so than I am, and I’m the one who’s pregnant!” You laugh a little louder than necessary, looking at Ye Eun. “Wouldn’t you say so, Ye Eun?”

“Oh, definitely,” Ye Eun nods as she takes a sip of her pumpkin juice.

The petite student teacher seems a little taken aback by your sudden compliment as she touches her cheek self-consciously, blushing a little as she does so. “Ah, really? You’re too kind, Professor _____.”

“Oh, no…just giving credit where credit is due,” you beam at her, reaching for your utensils to start digging into your food ravenously. “By the way, did you get those…bug bites on your neck cleared up at the infirmary the other day? They looked pretty serious…I hope you’re alright?”

Ye Eun immediately perks up at the mention of suspicious looking bites on Ryujin’s neck. Ryujin also seems to freeze on the spot, eyes darting back and forth between you and Ye Eun in a panic as she touches her neck.

“Bug bites? What kind of bug was it? I am in charge of Care of Magical Creatures, you know… maybe I can be of some help!” Ye Eun reaches for Ryujin’s collar and pulls it aside before the younger witch can flinch away.

Once Ye Eun catches a glimpse of the slightly faded bruises on her neck, she gasps, and you can barely keep your smirk at bay.

“Merlin! These are…these aren’t bug bites!” Ye Eun covers her mouth in shock before lowering her voice to a hiss. “These are hickies! Have you been…having relations with the other professors?”

“Re-really?” You pretend to be taken aback as well, and all this while Ryujin seems slightly uncomfortable. “Relations with colleagues? Ryujin, I don’t want to nag…but you know that’s inappropriate right? You just got here after all, and you wouldn’t want Headmaster Jeon finding out about this…would you?”

You’ve got that seductress right where you want her. You can see the panic in her eyes as she fumbles for a response, her knife and fork shaking in her grip as she sets it down.

“I… I’m…I wasn’t aware that it was inappropriate. I apologise,” she shifts her gaze to her plate in front of her, and you have to bring your goblet of pumpkin juice to your mouth for a sip to keep yourself from throwing it all over her face.

Unaware that it is inappropriate to flirt with someone else’s husband, sit in his lap, grind her ass against his dick? The nerve of this bitch.

But you can’t let her know she’s under your skin. Your Slytherin pride won’t allow it. So you smile at her politely. “You’re working so well at Hogwarts, it’ll be a shame if you had to leave early.”

Letting your unspoken threat hang in the air between you for a moment more, you take a final sip of your pumpkin juice and set your goblet down. “I forgot something in my room — I’ll see you in class, Ryujin!”

And then you walk away feeling as though you are on top of the world — having faced up to your problems instead of running away from them for once.

*//*

Ideally, things would improve from then on. Ryujin would get the message and back off. You and Jimin would enjoy the last few weeks you have here before going on maternity leave. Once you recover from the birthing process, you’ll have glorious sex again and also a chubby baby to love and coo over. But of course, nothing in life is perfect….or even remotely close to it.

Ryujin acts uncomfortable around you, the atmosphere between the two of you is awkward and stiff. Even after your threat to practically kick her out of Hogwarts if she continues seducing your husband, Ryujin doesn’t seem to get the message at all. It was like cotton was stuck in her ears and her mind is empty because she has the audacity to get even closer to your husband. Not only does it not stop, but it escalates.

Every chance that vixen gets, she puts on her shy and coy act, and she begins to call Jimin affectionately by his first name. They’re always giggling and laughing with each other, and she’s always staring at him from across the room. Her audacity leaves you dumbfounded, at a loss of what to do next.

Your glares and threats have no effect on her whatsoever.

And when you ask Jimin about it or try to bring it up, he always brushes you off.

The stress is beginning to drive you to the brink of insanity.

“The Draught of Peace is supposed to relieve anxiety and anxiousness. It is one of the most difficult potions to brew, so much so that three quarters of the class failed last year.” You pace between the desks and a Gryffindor in the back folds a note, ready to pass it to his friend. The tip of your wand pokes through your sleeve and one simple wave, the note has disintegrated into ash.

The giggles die down at your glare. “It is an advanced potion and requires more than just memorization and skill, but talent. Making one single mistake will have drastic consequences. For instance, adding too much ingredients will put the drinker into a permanent sleeping state that is irreversible. You will know if you brewed it correctly if there is a silvery vapour.”

“Now onto the ingredients.” You twist on your heel, facing all the students. “Pay attention because I’m only going to go over it once—”

You just can’t wrap your mind around how this happened. Since when did your communication with Jimin slip so far? What’s the real reason he won’t touch you anymore? Is he really having an affair with Ryujin? What exactly is he hiding from you?

“Professor?” Yoongi raises his hand with a lifted eyebrow.

“Uh-...yes?”

“You were saying something?” the Slytherin questions and the rest of the kids look up at you, waiting. There are tens of eyes pinpointed on your face and you stand completely still.

What were you saying?

A palm pressed to your forehead, you attempt to maintain a calm facade, but it’s quickly slipping. In the middle of lecture, your mind races and don’t have a shred of recollection on what you were just discussing. If Yoongi’s here then this is a fifth-year class. That means you were either discussing the Calming Draught or the Invigorating Draught. Unless it was the Strengthening Solution….

You’re losing it. And you can feel it — you’re on the verge of a mental breakdown…

“What Professor _____ is waiting for, is for you all to flip to the correct textbook page.” Ryujin steps in with a flawless smile. She glances at you and nods, striding forward while the students open their textbooks hastily. “You will need powdered moonstone, syrup of hellebore, and powdered unicorn horn as well as powdered porcupine quills. As usual, all of these materials will be provided to you, but if you need more to make it again, there is a limit of one hundred grams per person as these are very expensive ingredients. Please use them with care.”

“Earlier in the semester, all of you have written twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone. I am aware that the lovely Professor Park has also had a few lessons on Hellebore and its poisonous effects. This is the time we are finally going to use that information.” She smiles towards every student. “See? Everything we teach ends up connecting together.”

All of the students smile back at her. You hate this. You detest losing control of yourself, you despise how your brain cannot organize itself and you loathe the way you’re being replaced right in front of your eyes in all aspects of your life — from your marriage to your career.

You can see it right in front of your eyes. Like a vision flashing itself beneath your lids. It’s her and not you. It’s her that became Potions Master all those years ago, her that became acquainted with Jimin, that dated him for a year and half before becoming engaged.

If you weren’t in the picture, Jimin would’ve married her. Not you.

“Umm…..Professor?”

Your trance is snapped and you turn. “Yes?”

But the student isn’t talking to you. It’s Ryujin that everyone looks at. “How can I help you?”

“In the textbook, it says that it needs to be stirred seven times. Both clockwise and then counter-clockwise. Does that mean a total of fourteen times or in that seven we alternate between both directions?”

“That’s a very good question,” she praises and makes the girl gleam. “Let me address the entire class.”

*//*

“There you are.” The door creaks open, your husband entering with a smile. His visage is illuminated by the few candles surrounding the table you’re working out with the books sprawled all out. “I was looking for you everywhere.”

“Oh so you’re suddenly so concerned about me?” You sass him, but without any malice in your voice.

Jimin scoffs and comes over to hug you. His arms wrap around your torso, hands sprawled on your swollen stomach and he plants a kiss on your shoulder. “Why are you so sulky?”

You sigh, melting into his embrace. “I don’t know.”

“Is Sapling bothering you?” Jimin matches your pout when you turn around to face him. “If they keep kicking you, I’ll threaten to tickle them.”

As annoyed as you’ve been with him, you can’t resist the smile that spreads across your face. You’ve been missing him. “But then you’re tickling me.”

“It’s a win-win situation.”

“No, it’s not!” you laugh, feeling better already. “I was just finishing some stuff.”

“Don’t work too hard. You have a good excuse to take it easy.”

You hum a low note, staring at him with the flicker of the candles casting their warm light. The rest of the classroom is quiet and dark. The moment is intimate and you reach over, hugging your husband. There’s a space between your bodies, the watermelon size of your belly preventing you getting too close, but you try your best, eyes shut, grasping onto him tightly.

“What’s wrong?” His hands slowly wrap around your shoulders.

“Nothing.”

No matter how firmly you hold onto him, it feels like he’s still slipping away from you, and you are growing more and more desperate.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” You can feel Jimin’s smile and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before brushing away a few strands of your hair from your face. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Jimin…” You lock your gaze into his. “Let me suck you off.”

“Wait...what?!” He watches how you get onto your knees. It’s a bit of a struggle when your center of balance has changed, but you manage, despite Jimin trying to pull you up. “Baby—”

You tug the zipper of his pants, palming his front boldly. It’s miraculous that he’s already slightly hard and you look up at him past your lashes. Jimin swallows hard and his adam’s apple bobs.

“I’ll make you feel really good, I promise. I just really want to taste you again, Jimin. You already got your kid in me, now let me swallow some more.” It’s pathetic how desperate you are. A year ago, there had to be a lot of persuasion to get you on your knees. Now, you’d even drop down onto the cold forbidden forest floor if it means you can get one suck of his thick cock. “Please?”

“I—” He’s at a loss for words and you don’t wait, tugging his pants down. You palm him harder, practically salivating and drooling as you imagine the heavy weight on your tongue, the saltiness of his precum on your tastebuds. But Jimin holds the waistband of his underwear, not letting you pull it down. He grabs the scrap of fabric in his fist, holding it on for dear life. “T-this is inappropriate, _____.”

“No, it’s not,” you sputter. “We’ve done it before and no one’s around right now.”

“Doesn’t change that it’s wrong.” Jimin pulls up his pants again and tries to support you onto your feet again, but you struggle against his hands, staying down on your knees.

“Why won’t you let me suck you off?!” The harsh whispers leaves you in a fury. The last thing you want is prefects to wander and investigate the noises, but it’s difficult to keep your voice down.

“Why are you so insistent on it?”

“Because we haven’t had sex for nearly six months, Jimin!” you spit out the cold facts at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Is it so wrong that I just don’t feel like it?” Jimin spits back, his usually amiable features twisted in what seems like…anger?

“Yes! For you it is. You usually can’t keep your hands off of me!”

Jimin is frustrated and he runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back. “Just get up!”

“Fine, I’ll stop!” You’re annoyed, sad, but most of all humiliated that you have to rely on him to help you onto your feet. Jimin has a prolonged stare at your swollen stomach, swallowing hard again, and you burn in embarrassment. If he hates you and your child so much, then he shouldn’t have impregnated you in the first place. “If I’m so disgusting and unattractive that you won’t even let me anywhere near your dick — I’ll just go and leave you in peace then.”

You struggle to your feet — completely ignoring Jimin’s attempts to help as you shove him away, half in tears, half in anger. With one hand on your belly, you swipe at your cheeks impatiently as you exit the classroom amidst your husband’s panicked pleas for you to stay. With your wand, you cast a temporary locking spell on the door that will allow you to get down the hallway without him following you.

Your shared room feels bigger, emptier without Jimin. The bed is colder no matter how many warming spells you cast, and without the weight of his familiar body beside you, you can’t fall asleep. Tears have stained your cheeks for the past few hours already, it is now well into the night, but Jimin hasn’t come back to your room. With every second that passes, it feels as if you are being suffocated even as the vast emptiness of the room mocks your loneliness.

Even the baby inside you has gone to sleep, so you are completely, utterly alone.

*//*

Jimin feels like his knees are going to give out at any moment. This is not how he envisioned married life — things should have been perfect. With a baby on the way to celebrate your love, the relationship between the two of you should be stronger than ever. Instead, it’s in shambles; somehow he managed to hurt the very person he was trying so hard to protect all this while.

He lets himself sink down onto the cold floor of the classroom. Watching you struggle with the pregnancy the past few months has taken a toll on him too — not only does it hurt his heart to see the love of his life in pain or uncomfortable, it also pains him that he can’t take care of your needs properly. Every time you ask him to have sex, he has to physically restrain himself from giving in for fear that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself if he gives in to his urges.

Fuck, even thinking about you now has his dick half-hard again; Jimin thinks he must be a monster. A disgusting piece of dragon dung, a poor, sorry excuse for a husband who can’t keep his sexual urges at bay, a husband who looks at his wife and baby with a lustful gaze. Merlin, he doesn’t deserve to have you.

He pushes himself off the floor, willing his erection to go away as he tries to unlock the door once more. You must have put some kind of temporary locking spell on it, for now it opens easily and he steps out into the hallway, utterly at a loss of what to do. The past few nights, you’ve been sleeping less and less, and Jimin feels even worse when he thinks about how he can fall asleep so easily as compared to you. All the more reason why he shouldn’t go back to your shared room tonight, right? The sight of him would most likely enrage you further, and that isn’t good for the baby. He should find somewhere else to sleep tonight.

Walking with his half hard erection between his legs, Jimin sighs. He’ll have to take care of his urges in some other manner.

*//*

A whimper leaves the back of her throat and Ryujin pushes him away, hands on his firm chest. Heaving breaths leave her swollen lips and she shakes her head. “T-T-This is so wrong. I-it’s so wrong. You have a wife!”

His office is dark, only a few candles on the shelves casting their warm glow. The door is locked and she’s leaning back on his desk as his front presses against hers. “You didn’t think it was wrong when you rubbed your ass all over my cock,” Jimin mutters, catching her lips one more time.

He kisses her harshly, with teeth and passion as if trying to rid of his lustful urges and use her as his cum rag. Jimin’s arms snake around her frame, hands coming to palm her round ass and he feels up against her sides. He’s a dog in heat and Ryujin gives in, palms on his shoulders, moaning into the kiss and allowing him to rut against her. His hot tongue slips into the seams of her mouth, saliva making a mess.

Ryujin is moaning as she throws her head back to give him more access to her neck. On the corner of her lips is tiny little smirk, for she has achieved what she was out to get all along. She’s sick and tired of playing the innocent act.

Jimin pushes her further and things start to fall off the desk. Books, parchment, and quills tumble to the floor, but he has no regard. When he parts from her, his pupils are blown out in lust.

“Jimin….”

He hates the way she calls his name. He hates looking at her. So, he spins her around, pinning her against his wooden desk, bending her over. Jimin presses his covered cock against the crevice of her ass and hastily, he pushes her skirt up over her waist. Her white panties have a wet patch and he doesn’t waste time, tugging his trousers down.

Jimin’s hands find purchase on her hips, his cock still covered by his own underwear, but it doesn’t stop him from rubbing himself onto her, up and down, side to side, between the cheeks of her ass. Hot breaths leave his mouth and she moans at the feeling, pushing herself back onto him.

“You think I wouldn’t notice, slut?” He slaps her ass with his palm, the strike reddening her flesh and causing her to yelp. “Staring at me across the room….touching me all the time…” Jimin spanks her again, harder, and he watches the flesh jiggle before rubbing the spot and soothing it with his touch. “You even dare sit on my lap and rub your ass all over me in front of my wife.”

He spits it out, angered. Jimin’s hands skim up Ryujin’s body to her blouse and he tugs the buttons, pulling the fabric roughly. His hands snake past her bra, strap falling, and he squeezes her breast. Jimin rubs her nipple before it pebbles and he pinches, listening to her gasp and watching the pretty way she arches her back into him. He groans, pressing his cock closer to her ass and covered pussy. Her cotton panties are completely drenched like she pathetically wet herself.

“Fuck,” he groans, shutting his eyes. “An accident? Yeah, right.”

“I...I’m sorry…” Ryujin moans, pushing herself back onto him. He pinches her nipple again, squeezing and playing with it while pushing his entire body against her. Jimin’s warm breath skims against the back of Ryujin’s neck and he sucks the supple flesh, tainting pristine skin with a purple hickey.

“Do you know how much shit she’s been giving me because of you?”

The fox smirks, pushing herself against him again, her core clenching. She lets him rub his cock all over her ass and she cranes her head around to stare at him. Jimin’s jaw clenches when their eyes lock and he spanks her again. Ryujin grips the edge of the desk, whimpering at the pain that feels too good. She arches her ass for his viewing pleasure, letting his lustful eyes run over every inch of her delicate, petite body and fully enjoying it.

“Bet you want her to walk in on us right now, huh? You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Trying to destroy my marriage, slut?” Everything was perfect before she came along. It only took a flutter of her lashes and a few sly touches until he couldn’t resist anymore. She had been out from the start to be a homewrecker. And it only pisses him off when she gives a hum of agreement.

“Doesn’t my body look so beautiful, Professor Park? Aren’t I just perfect? Sometimes, I feel sorry for you, you know,” Ryujin sighs in mock pity. “Having to stare at your whale of a wife. How do you satisfy your urges when she asks you to? Do you fuck her and think of me instead?”

Jimin can’t take it and he pulls down the last remaining piece of clothing on him. His red cock springs free, precum leaking at the tip, and he pulls her underwear to the side. The young student teacher sighs, finally getting what she wants, eager to feel his cock, but instead, he plunges her fingers into her leaking pussy.

Ryujin cries out, pushing back on him and Jimin curls up his knuckles.

“Tell me what you want, slut,” he demands, feeling how tight and wet she is, practically sucking his fingers up.

“I...I want your cum, please, Jimin.” She becomes even more desperate when he begins to rub the head of his thick cock all over her slit while his fingers scissor her as if working to make room for him. “Please!”

Jimin swallows hard, unable to fight back his animalistic urges. “W-what makes you think I’ll give it to you?”

Ryujin is crying out, tears beginning to leak from her eyes. Her hair is in a disarray, no longer in a neat bun, strands falling in front of her face. Her blouse is wrinkled, bra shoved up, skirt around her waist. It’s obscene, dirty, and so entirely wrong, but she’ll do anything. “I...I’ll be g-good from now on….promise.”

He pulls his fingers out. She cries from the loss. But Jimin has his hand in her hair, yanking her to stand straight, flush against him. He mutters in spite, “I don’t think you’re capable.”

Ryujin is silent for a moment, which takes Jimin by surprise as he shoves his fingers deeper into her tight cunt. Then finally, she turns her head toward him, a demure yet sly smile on her lips. “You’ll give it to me because I’m the only one who can satisfy your nasty, animalistic needs. You think your wife’s loose, stuffed pussy can hug your cock the way mine can? Go ahead. Try it for yourself, and then you can tell me whether my pussy is better than your wife’s.”

Jimin shoves her against his desk, hitching one leg up on the surface. And he plunges his red cock into her weeping pussy. She holds her breath before whimpering at the stretch and he groans, slowly sinking in to savour the feeling. Once he’s balls deep, his hands hold her hips and he begins to fuck into her, deep and leisurely strokes. He shuts his eyes, immersing himself into the clench and his hand lifts, pushing back his hair out of his face.

“Please…” Broken words fall from the pretty girl’s delicate lips. Her toes curl, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, hands gripping the farthest edge of the desk. “Jimin. Want you to cum inside me.”

As she begs, he begins to pick up the pace. “So you can become pregnant too?”

“You’d like that right, baby?” Ryujin is moaning and panting, breasts bouncing obscenely from his thrusts. “I can promise you I’ll let you fuck me as hard as you want even when I’m pregnant. I’ll be so much better than your wife.”

He scoffs. “We’ll see about that.”

Jimin loves it, the way he’s absolutely defiling this pretty girl. No one would ever suspect it. In the morning, when everyone gathers around the Great Hall and she soaks up the praise of the other professors, seventh year students who chase after her skirt, but only he will have the pleasure of knowing that he was the one to fuck her. She always flashes the same smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear innocently. They all think she’s some shy virgin who’s never even been kissed or even held.

But Ryujin is a dirty whore.

She’s a temptress and Jimin’s just putting her in her place. If you knew, you’d be sympathetic. You’d understand. After all, how could you resist? And you’re pregnant with his child. He couldn’t possibly fuck you like this, or at least the way he wants to — hard and rough.

Just because he fucks someone on the side doesn’t mean he loves you any less.

“J-Jimin…” The vixen can feel him all the way to her throat. It’s a deeper angle than the times before when he spread and tied her up on her bed, when he tackled her on the floor of the greenhouse. She’s never felt him so raw and intimately like this before. “I-it’s t-too much.”

“Take it, bitch.” His fingers dig into the meat of her thighs, leaving their marks as he hikes her higher on his desk. “You asked for it.”

Jimin fucks her raw and harshly. She’s just a toy. It means nothing to him.

“Louder! You want everyone to know, don’t you?!”

Sobs of his name befall her pretty lips. She pushes back onto him, meeting his strokes. Her ass bounces every time he shoves himself back inside her. Ryujin begins to lose strength in her legs, but Jimin shoves her thighs apart again. “Spread your legs, doll. It’s the only thing you’re good at doing.”

Any guilt he feels, he shoves it down, fucking it into her. He expels his pent-up emotions, the fear of being a father, of commitment, of giving up his career for a family. Jimin’s sick and tired of wearing the same Hufflepuff smile, of pushing down his lust for the past six months. He finally releases it all, vigorously pounding into the temptress who trembles beneath him.

It’s dirty and disgusting. This is where students sit down with him, asking about homework or inquiring about class. Now he’s sure when he sees his desk again, he’ll see the girl spread out for him, her cunt leaking all over his cock and balls.

“I’ll shove my thick cock down your throat the next time you try to flirt with me, dirty whore.”

“Can’t help it,” she moans, hoping he’ll go faster and even harder, that he’ll mark her all up in fingerprint bruises and hickies, that he’ll cum deep into her womb. “Y-you’re mine.”

“What makes you think I’ll be yours, huh?” Jimin puts his hand into her hair, tugging on strands again, causing her to moan, ruining her dainty, little voice.

Ryujin has her cheek against the desk, wincing at the pain as Jimin fucks her hard enough to bruise her cervix. But the delicious stretch of feeling his cock ram into her pussy makes it all worth it. And the thought that Jimin has chosen her over his wife sends triumph soaring through her veins. “Because you’ll come back again and again for this tight little pussy. And you’ll come inside it every time too. It won’t be long till you fuck a baby into me. I got you now, Park Jimin. You’re mine.”

Jimin grunts hard as he ignores the truth in her words, instead focusing his energy into perfecting every thrust so that he bottoms out as deep as possible. “Next time you piss my wife off,” the low whisper rumbles between the four walls of his office, “I’ll break you. I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a month.”

Jimin spits into his hand. He rubs it on her ass and dips his hands into his own saliva, drenching the pad of his fingers to come around and rub her clit hard and quick. He flicks his wrist and there are cries and sobs of his name that echo out for the whole castle to hear. Ryujin finally cums, clenching around him, and Jimin gives three more strokes, milking her orgasm until he cums deep into her pussy.

He falls over her, cum leaking out onto his cock again and he makes sure to give a few shallow strokes, stuffing it deep inside her to keep until the next time they mess around again.

You scream.

Your body jolts. In a cold sweat, clothes sticking to your drenched skin, you wake up in the darkness. You haul yourself up to the best of your abilities, hyperventilating, hand on your chest where your heartbeat thunders in mortification and fear. It didn’t happen. It didn’t happen. It didn’t happen.

It was a nightmare. You were just dreaming again. Your mind and subconscious are making things up because of your stress and deepest fears. It was a nightmare.

You repeat it over and over again, murmuring under your breath, arms holding yourself. You rock back and forth until your breathing steadies. But when you look beside you, the bed is empty. Your husband isn’t here.

You end up crying yourself to sleep again.

*//*

When you wake, Jimin still hasn’t come back.

Everything aches. Although it’s not new to you at this stage in your pregnancy, you are more tired than ever. You practically slept less than an hour last night, nightmare after nightmare plaguing you, and everything is starting to take its toll.

You get dressed, feeling an urge to escape from the dark, empty bedroom to somewhere else that doesn’t remind you of your husband. It’s way too early for anyone else to be awake, but luckily a kind house elf from the kitchens brings you your latest craving of fried chicken and nonalcoholic butterbeer that you decide to bring to your office and stuff your face with.

When all else fails, food is the one and only consolation you have.

The warm paper bag emanates a deliciously tempting smell as you waddle toward your office, taking solace in the quiet and peaceful hallways. Even the ghosts aren’t out and about yet, so you feel no shame in stuffing a huge bite of chicken into your mouth as you approach your office. On the way, you have to pass by Jimin’s office, and you have to physically restrain yourself from bursting through the door to see if he really slept inside, or...

You can’t help but pause at his door, pressing your ear to the wood to try and discern whether he’s in or not. But then, a loud slam nearly makes you choke on your warm mouthful, but what you hear next makes you want to throw everything up.

“Oh M-merlin, harder! Give it to me harder!!” It is a familiar voice. It is light and tinkling, and it could only belong to one person.

Your dream flashes across your mind once more. Visions of naked sweaty bodies, Jimin’s vivid purple hair. You remember the way Ryujin was sitting on his lap that time you walked in on them — are they in the same position now? Or is Jimin taking her from behind, pounding into her pert ass as he bends her over his table? Would he paint her face with his cum like he used to do with you, or would he opt to cum all over her pretty pussy instead? You know Jimin likes seeing his cum on your body. Is he marking Ryujin’s slender, petite body with his cum this very instant?

Or maybe he’s giving her a baby too?

The thought makes you want to throw up, and you are physically unable to throw open the door and confront them. You are weak. The gruff moans continue to leak from the bottom crack of the door. The sound of whimpers, gasps, and obscene noise of wet skin slapping on skin echos into your ears. You’re frozen in your spot, feet rooted in the ground. And as your hand wraps around the brass doorknob—

“Professor _____?

You’re interrupted, body whipping around to Seokjin walking towards you with rounded eyes. “Is everything alright?”

“I….I’m fine.” You walk away from Jimin’s office and the Hufflepuff third year stops, turning to follow you. You quickly cast a wandless Muffliato Charm on Seokjin to distract him from the obscene sounds that are coming from Jimin’s office. “What are you doing awake so early? D-did you finish your essay yet?”

“No, oops.” Seokjin gives a sheepish grin and shrugs. You keep your eyes trained forward, stumble towards your own office. Before you can shut the door, you look down to the student. “I was investigating. You know that there has been several break-ins into all the offices lately?”

“Oh. Really? I… I didn’t know that,” you answer weakly as you begin to stride toward your office, feeling the eager young boy’s eyes on you. “Look, Seokjin, if there’s nothing you need, I need to finish my lesson plans.”

“Okay.” He smiles, bidding farewell and you close the door behind you and sink down onto your chair, bursting into tears almost immediately.

*//*

All through class, you can’t concentrate. Whether it’s the looming due date of your baby or the thought that you might as well be a single mother now, it distracts you so much that you have to take a break in the middle of class and excuse yourself so that you don’t break down in front of the students.

It’s one of your last few classes before you go on maternity leave. Earlier on you made a list of things to address with them before you hand them over to Ryujin, but it all seems meaningless now. The students seem to sense that you are in a worse mood than usual, so they are on their best behaviour, not a single toe out of line.

Taehyung stops you as you’re walking to the Great Hall for lunch. He seems to be in a good mood these days as he falls into step beside you, a wide square grin on his face, and there is a skip in his step.

“Stop showing off, would you? How nice it must be to have all that mobility,” you grumble at him, not in the mood to talk to anyone at all. But then going back to your shared room with Jimin would only make things worse, so you decide that you need to surround yourself with people right now.

“Hey, I wasn’t the one who decided to get knocked up,” Taehyung shrugs happily. “Blame your husband.”

“This isn’t the only thing he needs to be blamed for,” you mumble under your breath as Taehyung opens the doors for you and you head straight for the Professors’ table. Upset or not, grieving or not, the baby inside you doesn’t seem to care as it demands its daily sustenance. Your stomach is growling as you sit down and get ready to tuck into your meal.

Taehyung sits beside you and stuffs a large bread roll into his mouth before he speaks. “Hey, d’you wanna know something interesting? I did a reading on your baby. And from the looks of that, I think you’re going to need this.”

With a wave of his wand, a Gryffindor scarf appears around your neck, and you yank it off as if its diseased, tossing it to the floor in irritation. “A scarf? Why would I need that?”

“Not just any scarf, it’s a Gryffindor scarf,” Taehyung emphasises with a toothy grin on his face as he butters another roll. “I have this strong hunch that your baby is a Gryffindor.”

You only scoff in disgust at him as you match him with another bread roll stuffed into your mouth. “Why tell me something as useless as that? If you have that much time to be doing extra work, why don’t you tell me the gender of my baby instead?”

Taehyung starts to cut into the grilled salmon on his plate. “Oh…um, I haven’t learned how to do that yet.”

Despite yourself, you laugh at him as you take a sip of your pumpkin juice. But then, you realised who just entered the Great Hall — it’s a purple haired wizard and a young female professor. They are walking down the aisle, strides matching each other perfectly, looking like a blissful picture perfect couple as they beam at each other.

Nausea immediately slams into your gut, and you put your knife and fork down, pushing yourself up from your seat as Taehyung glances at you. “I think- I think I’m done with my food.”

“Great, then can I have the rest—”

But just as you’re about to leave the table, Jimin rushes up to you and stops you with a hand on your arm, gently leading you back to your seat. There is a sorrowful look on his face as he glances at your worn out expression, and guilt overwhelms him at the sight of you being so visibly upset because of him.

“_____… stay here and finish your food. I’ll leave instead, so just…eat up. You and the baby need it.” Jimin gently helps you back into your seat, and you reluctantly let him, glancing behind him at Ryujin who hesitates for a second before she moves to the other end of the table instead.

Back in your seat, Jimin places your knife and fork into your hand before he smiles sadly and turns to leave. Although your appetite is almost gone now, the baby still demands more food, and you can only watch your husband’s departing back as you put another forkful of food into your mouth, but it might as well be sawdust.

*//*

The nightmares don’t stop coming. In fact, they get more and more sordid with every night that your husband doesn’t return to your shared quarters. One night, Jimin is punishing Ryujin for her slutty, whorish behaviour. Another, he is deeply in love with her, begging her to have his baby instead and plotting to run away from Hogwarts.

The baby inside you shifts, as if sensing your depressed mood, and you smooth a hand over your belly. This is a moment that you and Jimin should be witnessing together. He should be in bed with you right now, pressing his ear to your belly and listening to the baby, singing songs to lull it to sleep when it kicks one too many times.

“I only have you now, right?” You whisper to the child inside you.

Taehyung has caught on to the icy atmosphere between you and Jimin lately, after what happened at lunch. But you refused to divulge any of the details to him for fear of breaking down in front of him, Merlin forbid. For now, you tell yourself, you just have to focus on the baby. Just get through these last torturous weeks by yourself, birth the baby, and then maybe you can go back to your parents and spend a few months there or something.

Just one step at a time. You calm yourself down with deep breaths, picking up your wand to cast a simple spell to conjure up a flock of birds that surround you with their cheerful song, flitting around back and forth. The background noise sets you at ease, and the room doesn’t feel so quiet anymore.

You have an established routine now. Go to bed alone, try to fall asleep for a few hours, end up getting at most two hours of shut-eye, wake at dawn, and go to your office to prepare for class. Throwing yourself into your work has been one of the more effective strategies of distracting yourself, your first love of Potions has always comforted you and reminded you of how capable you are as an individual. You can do this. You don’t need some cheating scumbag of a husband.

This morning as you walk to your office, the castle feels colder than usual, and you wrap your cloak around yourself tighter. Jimin’s office is, thankfully, quiet this morning and you breathe a silent sigh of relief. Not that it gives you any concrete reason to be relieved, as he could just as easily be fucking her in her bed, of all places, but you push the nauseating thought aside.

But as you approach your office, your stomach sinks and your heart nearly stops in your chest. The haunting, now familiar sounds of moaning and skin slapping against skin assault you once more, and this time you can’t tell if you’re dreaming, or if this is actually reality.

“Oh, harder, fuck, please, that’s so good,” Ryujin’s voice rings out loud and clear as she screams in pleasure. Accompanying male grunts follow, and she moans again. “Shit, yes, I— I want your cum, please cum inside me! I’ll- I’ll keep it all in my pussy like a good girl. Please—”

This has gone on for far too long. You have tolerated their shameless adulterous ways all this while. If Jimin wants to satisfy his urges with a younger, prettier and sexier witch, you can’t stop him. If he values your marriage so little that he’s willing to throw away both your baby and your future together, then you can’t stop him from making that choice, it’s all on Jimin. But what you won’t tolerate is this blatant disrespect for your personal, private space.

“Oh Merlin, fuck, you’re so good, so— fucking good, ahhh I’m gonna cum, gonna cum!”

A muscle in your cheek twitches. Your fist clenches.

Using your wand, you blast open the door with a Repelling Charm, hoping that the splinters get lodged in a very painful and unfortunate place for the both of them. The smoke from your spell clears up and enough is enough. Without a second to waste, you begin to scream “Jimin! What the fuc—!”

There’s a high-pitched shriek that comes from her. There’s a deep yell that comes from him.

Ryujin is bent over your desk, getting her brains fucked out and being pounded into, naked from her waist down.

But it’s not Jimin at all.

“_____?” At the sound of the familiar voice, your head turns, frozen in your spot.

Your husband is striding down the hall with Namjoon in tow, the two men quickening their pace to see what’s going on. His eyes are rounded with surprise and you whip your head back. What the hell?

The smoke has cleared. The air is crisp. “Stop staring!”

Kim Taehyung is still balls deep in the pretty young witch.

He panics, a deer in headlights, and he pulls out of Ryujin immediately, but his dick remains hard. Ryujin finally regains her senses and realises what’s going on in front of her fucked out face. The sweaty, younger witch still looks like a million Galleons even with strands of hair all over the place, her lipstick smeared on her lips and mascara running down her cheeks. Her eyes are widened with terror as she stares at you and her jaw drops to the ground.

“P-Professor _____! I— I’m so sorry, I don’t know what to say…” she stumbles over her words as she pushes herself into a standing position, forcing Taehyung to take a step back as he tucks his slowly wilting dick back into his pants. “It was—”

“What’s going on here?” Namjoon finally makes it to the doorway and when he looks inside, his eyes become owlish and he quickly looks away. “Merlin’s beard, what the fuck, Taehyung!”

The ache in your temples is growing more and more pronounced as your brain struggles to comprehend all this information. You press a hand to your forehead and blow out a sigh. “For Merlin’s sake, fucking get dressed, both of you.”

The couple scrambles to get all their articles of clothing in order— Ryujin has to summon her bra and panties from a faraway bookshelf, and you make a personal note to yourself to replace every book on that shelf, together with the shelf as well.

Jimin catches up, not bothering to see what’s going on. He automatically looks at you with his hand on your arm. “Are you alright?! Did you get hit by any splinters?”

“I-I’m fine.” You lean into your husband for support, barely able to get your words out.

Ryujin is mortified to death, apologizing every step of the way despite Taehyung insists that it’s not her fault. Namjoon is prepared to blast his eyeballs with an Aguamenti Spell to cleanse them and Jimin is as horrified as you are. It’s only until they’re finally fully clothed again that Taehyung becomes tired of the overdramatic reaction.

He rolls his eyes and reaches to grab Ryujin’s hand, making a bold proclamation of love despite her flushing from her chin to her hairline, “C’mon, we’re all adults here. Is it that difficult to believe we’ve been fucking ever since she got here?!”

*//*

It’s a private emergency meeting.

Everyone involved in the mess is gathered around the table inside the Headmaster’s office, seated in uncomfortable chairs. Jeongguk is in front while you’re beside Jimin. Across from you is Ryujin and Taehyung, respectively, and Namjoon has reluctantly taken a seat beside your husband.

It’s dead silent. The clock on the wall ticking back and forth is excruciatingly slow.

The student teacher witch is mortified and embarrassed, unable to look at anyone in the eye. Beside her Taehyung wears a blank expression, looking around the office, and Jimin is amused with his friend, a slight smile gracing his features. Jeongguk and Namjoon are unimpressed while your own mind is boggling.

There is silence….

Until the young Headmaster breaks it, a strained voice that’s all too stressed emitting from his throat, “since when did this start?”

“The night she first got here.”

Everyone except for the two on trial are surprised. Namjoon’s brown raises. “That early?”

“What can I say? I make my moves fast.” Taehyung smirks until Ryujin sends him a pouty glare that begs him to have mercy on her.

Wait a minute…..

Your mind flashes to the bruises you had seen on her neck. While you had assumed she got them at the greenhouse after paying a visit to Jimin, it’s entirely possible that she had them before that and you simply didn’t notice. “Then those hickies...?”

The witch turns to you with wide eyes and she swallows hard. On the other hand, Taehyung grins proudly, happy that someone noticed he made his mark. “You saw those?”

“Taehyung,” Jeongguk warns in a lower voice that this isn’t a joking manner.

The Divinations master mumbles a half-hearted— “sorry.”

In the meanwhile, your childish husband is holding back amused giggles and he’s reminded of an incident a few weeks ago. He turns towards Ryujin, all too curious. “Is this why you asked me for Hufflepuff robes? I was wondering why you returned them freshly washed.”

She doesn’t answer, flushing even more, and Taehyung clears his throat. “That might be my fault. I may or may not have missed my aim…..several times.”

“Oh for fuck’s sakes.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, taking control of the interrogation and inquiring what you’ve been itching to know. “Why my office?”

“We, uh….well...that...” Taehyung laughs awkwardly. “That might be my fault too. I wanted us to fuck in every Professor’s office before her temporary teaching stint was over. Yours was the last one.”

“Wait.” Your hands raise, palms out, asking him to slow down. “So the other day, what I heard from Jimin’s office was you two?!”

Ryujin has her eyes shut tight. “I’m sorry!”

“You fucked in my office?” Jimin has his mouth drawn open and you don’t know if he’s disgusted or genuinely impressed. Taehyung smirks at his friend.

Namjoon groans. “No wonder my stuff was rearranged so weirdly. And there was a horrid smell…Headmaster Jeon, can I have a new office please?”

“You two are the ones who have been breaking into professor’s offices?!” Jeongguk is leaning back, staring at the ceiling, in a state of disbelief and you wonder if he’s going to pass out.

“Mystery solved,” Taehyung responds with a smile.

“What would’ve happened if instead of _____, a student walked in on you?!” The Headmaster rubs his temples, thrown in absolute hysterics. You haven’t seen him this stressed out since he was put into this position at Hogwarts. Or maybe since your body switch fiasco with Jimin. “Oh Merlin. What about the rumours?! What if a ghost or someone in a painting witnessed it?! What would happen to our reputation if it was posted in The Daily Prophet?! How would I deal with the outcry of the parents?! Couldn’t you have at least done it in your private quarters?!”

“I’m sorry,” Ryujin apologizes again and lifts her head. “I know I just got here and I’m already causing trouble for you.”

“It’s not her fault,” Taehyung quickly intervenes. “It was me who insisted on it and planned the entire thing. It was just a stupid thing on my bucket list. If you need to punish anyone, then punish me, not her.”

Jeongguk gives up.

It’s goes eerily quiet again.

He laces his fingers together and inhales a deep breath. “Did you mess around in my office?”

It’s silent. The silence stretches on. And on.

Jeongguk lifts himself up. He looks at Ryujin who has diverted her gaze elsewhere. Then, he looks at Taehyung who is bold, staring. The two males lock their eyes together, simply glaring into each other’s pupils as if they are sharing a telepathic message. The Headmaster swallows hard and a weak voice spills from his mouth, “Taehyung….”

He delivers the news solemnly, “I’m sorry.”

“Merlin!” His arms are up in the air. “No wonder my phoenix burst into ashes a week ago!”

“Why is this such a big deal?” Taehyung finally explodes himself and his hand extends across the table towards you. “These two messed around in my office before! Ever since they got married, they’ve been going at it like rabbits! That’s why she’s like that now!”

Taehyung gestures vaguely at you, his hand in an up and down motion that you suppose indicates your pregnant state. Your hackles start to rise in indignation.

“Th-that…” For once you’re left sputtering. Beside you, Jimin snorts, muttering something about how he’s not wrong there but shuts up when you send him a deathly glare.

Namjoon sighs for the hundredth time. Jeongguk pounds the table with his fist. “We have private quarters for a reason, people! I’m going to have to give a seminar on relationships, aren’t I? I thought this was all common sense!” Taehyung smirks again and it blows a gasket in Jeongguk’s head. “Don’t you have any shame?!”

“Why should I?” Taehyung catches her hand into his, lacing his fingers with her’s, and lifting their tightly held hands. “I’m in love with her!”

Ryujin’s eyes nearly fall out of her sockets at the bold proclamation. “Y-you’re in love with me?”

Taehyung moves fast indeed. It’s only been three weeks since she’s gotten here. Leaning back in your seat with a slight roll of your eyes, you are content to watch the drama unfold right in front of you.

“I’m in love with you,” he repeats in proud confidence, albeit his voice is quieter. They gaze into each other’s eyes, an intimate moment despite the predicament that they’re in. “From the moment I saw you. Most people think you’re just pretty, but to me you’re more than that. You’re sweet, funny, charming...I think you’re so passionate about what you do and that’s attractive to me. And I love you.”

It’s obvious how smitten she is as well, and the two of them gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes, completely in their own world. “Taehyung…”

While the rest of you are just gawking at the two of them. You are completely unimpressed, Jimin looks as if he is almost proud of his best friend, Namjoon looks like he has a splitting headache, and Jeongguk… well, he’s about to follow in his Phoenix’s footsteps. A part of you doesn’t actually believe that Taehyung can love someone long enough to be in an actual relationship, but if that’s a risk Ryujin is willing to take, you can’t say anything about it.

You turn your head, facing the Headmaster and you clear your throat to catch his attention, deciding to finally give your review of her. “Ryujin has demonstrated stellar performance. I believe she will make an excellent Potions Master here at Hogwarts. As long as she keeps her private matters private, I find no reason to extradite or punish her in any way.”

If you were frank with yourself, you felt a bit guilty.

It’s understandable that Ryujin would have never told you about her relationship with Taehyung. By the second day, you were already cold to her and distant. You told her off too, warning her not to have any relations with professors here. You would’ve saved yourself a lot of heartache if you didn’t have so many assumptions and biases or jumped to so many conclusions.

At the end of the day, Ryujin hasn’t done anything horribly wrong.

A grateful smile spreads across the young girl’s face, tearing up from your praise.

“I agree,” Jimin pipes up beside you, glancing at his best friend. “It’s easy to get caught up when you start a new relationship.”

Your husband gives you a knowing smile that makes your heart feel fuzzy.

“As irresponsible as you were….” Namjoon pushes up his spectacles, giving his own opinion as the Head of Ravenclaw, “no students had caught them. No one was harmed either. As long as they take appropriate precautions from here on out and are more aware of their surroundings, there’s no need to give them an unusually cruel punishment.”

All Jeongguk manages is a sigh.

*//*

At the end of the day, the pair of you are still baffled and in disbelief.

“Who knew…” Jimin’s arm is around your waist, supporting your weight as you waddle down the hallway. He hums after some consideration. “But now that I think about it, it does make sense. Every time she talked to me, it was always related to Taehyung one way or another. I think she was trying to squeeze information out of me. And here I thought I made a friend.”

He laughs and the two of you enter your quarters. You don’t say anything and he stands by the foyer after shutting the door. He calls your name. “Are you still upset with me? Do...you want me to go?”

You turn around, cradling your stomach in your hands. “Where have you been going at night?”

“I…” Jimin scratches the back of his neck. “I’ve been staying with Namjoon.”

You frown, not understanding. “Why?”

“I thought you didn’t want to see me. I felt bad that you were having a hard time and there was nothing I could do to help you. I thought it was better if I was gone.”

“So you’ve been staying with him?” You take a good look at Jimin and you wonder why you hadn’t noticed how exhausted he appears.

“Yeah and I’ve been talking to him a lot. Namjoon gives me a lot of insight.” He swallows hard. “I know this is pathetic, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. But...I’ve been nervous about having the baby and the whole fatherhood thing. I know I don’t deserve to be as scared as you are and that I should be strong enough to support you but—”

You shake your head. “You’re an idiot.”

“What?”

“I thought you were cheating on me!” you shout at him in wrath, but you’re not angry at him.

You’re angry at yourself.

Jimin stands there, shocked at how you burst into tears. He follows after you when you waddle towards the bedroom and onto the bed, taking a seat and crying into your hands. “What?” He approaches you slowly and kneels in front of you. “How could I?”

“I don’t know! I thought you were sleeping with Ryujin and I’ve been getting these nightmares and then I wake up and you’re not there—”

“I’m sorry.” He comes to sit beside you, reaching over to hug you and you bury your face into his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I-....I didn’t know that’s how you felt.”

“You idiot.” You hit him again, deciding your fists are better than the numerous hexes you have swirling in the forefront of your mind. “I thought our relationship was over!”

“I’m sorry.”

You’re crying, the hormones taking over, the tsunami landing on your shoulders. All of your pent-up emotions come crashing down and your calm facade breaks. “It didn’t help that I heard noises from your office and I thought it was you and her. And it doesn’t help that you haven’t had sex with me for the past six and a half months either.”

Jimin grimaces and pulls away. He cradles your face, wiping your tears with the pad of his thumb, placating you. A tiny smile appears on his face. “Do you think I could run off with someone else when I have you and your gorgeousness? Hate to break it to you, but you’re already a handful for me. I love you and our baby too much to even think about anyone else.”

You huff out. “Then why haven’t you been touching me?”

Jimin sighs and decides to be honest. There’s no point in hiding things anymore when it’s all being out and the open now. It’s better to be ashamed than to create misunderstandings and stress you out. “Because I feel disgusted with myself.”

“What?”

“I feel gross,” he admits. “When I look at you...a normal person would want to take care of you. I know I should be soft and gentle and attentive…..but during your entire pregnancy, I really just wanted to fuck you all the time.”

He pulls himself away, downcasting his head and looking at his hands like he worries he’s a monster. “You are the mother of my child, and yet all I could think about was bending you over the nearest surface and fucking you senseless. So I had to stay away from you. I’m…..I’m an animal. I’m sorry.”

Jimin’s confession floors you, and you feel your heart skip a beat. “You mean…you mean you wanted to have sex with me the entire time? You weren’t disgusted with…with whatever this is?”

As you say this, you gesture to your large, inflated body, belly so swollen that it comes in between both of you, and you can’t even reach to kiss him.

It’s Jimin’s turn to be taken aback, and his eyes widen in realisation as he takes your hands into his, bringing it to his lips and kissing them repeatedly. “What? Baby, no, I would never! It’s been the exact opposite. You’re becoming more and more attractive and sexy to me each day, I could barely keep my hands off you, didn’t you notice? And my dick gets hard every time I see your swollen stomach, and that time when you woke up with your breasts leaking milk all over your shirt, I had to run to my garden and jack off all over my plants.”

Your husband is humiliated and he groans at the thought, repeating it in shame, “My plants!”

“But you said—” your breath hitches as Jimin runs his hand over your swollen stomach tenderly. “You wouldn’t even let me suck you off. I just…I just wanted to make you feel good, and I know how much you like getting your dick sucked. Before we got married you had to beg me for it. Remember?”

Jimin chuckles against your skin, his cheeks rounding out in the most adorable way ever. You hope your baby has the same chubby cheeks. “I remember. That night in the classroom you said you wanted to suck me off, I could barely control myself and I ended up coming all over a bush of roses. Fuck’s sake, I was worried I couldn't control myself. It took me so much willpower. If I had let your pretty little lips get anywhere near my dick, you would have been bent over the teacher’s desk and stuffed with cock the next moment.”

“I want it,” you cuddle closer to him, raising a thigh and sliding it over his hip so that he can feel your heated core. “I want to be stuffed with your cock.”

You can see the reluctance on his face once more, but things are different now that you know it’s because he’s afraid he can’t control himself, rather than not being attracted to you in your current condition. You reach up to cup his rounded cheek, comforting him with a gentle kiss against his lips.

“Baby, I trust you. You’re Park Jimin, my husband, the love of my life. You could never hurt me or the baby,” you pull away from him and kiss his nose instead, smiling at him. All this time, you thought you were the only one ridded with worries when it turns out Jimin might have been more anxious. You reassure him, “you’re not gross or disgusting or an animal. And I’m not putting up with it it for you either. You’re not forcing me. I’m not doing it to satisfy you either.”

You say it loud and clear for his two brain cells to understand, exasperated that you’ve missed out on six months of good sex just because Jimin was too sweet to ask you for anything. “I want it. You trust me, right? I’ll tell you if anything doesn’t feel good. I promise.”

Jimin strokes his thumb over your belly as he kisses your forehead. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. It’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m a Slytherin, you know.”

He grins, worries finally put more at ease. “You know that doesn’t mean anything to me. Just because you’re sorted into that house doesn’t make you any tougher. You’re still my soft and sweet wife. Need me to remind you how you cried at our wedding?”

Your mouth draws open. “I thought we weren’t going to ever talk about that again!”

Jimin laughs, leaning in to plant a chaste kiss on your lips. He seems eager as he gets onto his knees. “And you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever known. On your back, baby. It’s long overdue, but I want to worship you like the goddess you are.”

He helps you flip onto your back and in a position where you’re comfortable. Jimin starts by kissing you deeply, his tongue stroking against yours in the most erotic manner that has you already moaning and writhing under him. You want to feel his tongue elsewhere. Jimin smirks at your impatience, letting his lips trail down to your neck as he seeks out your covered breasts.

You help him to pull down the low cut neck of your camisole so that he can suck a swollen, puffy nipple into his mouth, massaging the other breast gently with his hands. Jimin feasts on the sight of your soft, sensitive breasts, sucking the nipple in his mouth and flicking his tongue to tease you even more, feeling sweet liquid burst onto his tongue once more.

“Just as sweet as I remembered from last time,” Jimin grins cheekily at you as he licks his lips sinfully, moving to the other breast to give it the same treatment. When the sweet milk fills his taste buds once more, he closes his eyes to savour the sweetness of it, moaning around your nipple as he drinks from your breast greedily.

“Jimin, ahhh-” you gasp and moan at the feeling of him eagerly suckling at you. “Th-that’s for our baby, you jerk. He won’t have enough if you’re being this greedy.”

He pouts at you, but draws away from your breast to scatter kisses all over your swollen belly instead. His lips are soft and they feel good on your skin.

“You know, I heard semen helps with stretch marks,” Jimin raises his eyebrows in a perverted manner as he palms his cock boldly. “Would you want to test out that hypothesis with me? I gotta say, the thought of cumming all over your round belly has been a fantasy of mine for some time. I jerked off to it that night in the greenhouse.”

Trust your horndog of a husband to manage to be both romantic and greasy at the same time. But two can play at that game. You smile an equally cheesy smile at him as you spread your thighs for him, showing off the wet patch on your panties. “That can wait, baby. I’d rather you cum in my pussy instead.”

That’s all the invitation Jimin needs as he helps you to pull your panties down, witnessing how your sticky juices cling to the crotch of your underwear in strings. He brings the saturated crotch to his nose, inhaling deeply. “You smell different from before.”

Your face heats like a furnace. “I-is it bad?”

“It’s better.” Jimin describes it as a thicker scent that’s concentrated and more like you. He swears under his breath before he tosses the fabric aside in favour of the source itself. He placates you with a few kisses to your inner thighs before giving your clit a flat lick, spreading your lips apart and getting his first good taste of you in months.

“Jimin- oh Merlin, fuck,” your back arches and your hips grind against his face, but you are impatient. “St-stop teasing. Want your cock, now.”

Jimin indulges himself in a few more licks, noting the way you taste even sweeter while pregnant before he shifts to lie against your side, figuring that this would be the least tiring position for you if he’s doing all the work. He kisses your neck, sucking deep bruises into your tender skin as he reaches between your legs to tease your clit with his fingers.

You reach back to seek out his cock, pushing his pants down impatiently and finding him hard and ready for you. Your mouth salivates as you grip his firm length in your hand, his warmth already spilling into your palm as you jerk him off with several test strokes.

Jimin slides a hand under your knee to lift your thigh for him. “This okay? Feeling alright?”

“More than okay,” you reassure him as he supports your thigh to open you up for him, using his other hand to guide his cock to your swollen and drenched entrance.

“I-I’ve been wet almost everyday, thinking about your cock,” you confess as he brings the head of his cock to your slit, teasing you with a few tiny little movements of his hips behind you.

“Have you?” Jimin murmurs against your skin as he finally allows his swollen, dripping head to breach your entrance. The first stretch has you crying out against him, your pussy clenching around his cock immediately. Having been deprived of sex all these months, your pussy feels like it’s being stretched wide open by Jimin’s girth, and you relish the burn of it as Jimin works his hips to sink into your cunt even deeper. “Can’t let my good girl go hungry without my cock, can I?”

Jimin sinks in all the way, and you let out a satisfied sigh when he is fully embedded inside you, right where he belongs. This feels right. It feels good.

“Ji-Jimin, you’re so thick, oh Merlin, fuck,” your mouth runs loose as he gently works his hips to withdraw from your pussy.

His slow and gentle pace hits you right where you need him. Jimin’s cock satisfies you so well that you feel as if you’re about to cum right away, even without much attention to your clit.

“Feel good, baby?” Jimin checks in with you as he lowers your thigh to rest on top of his. “Am I too deep? Should I pull out?”

“N-no, you’re perfect. You feel so, so good, pl-ease, don’t stop,” your mouth is wide open as you gasp for breath, chest rising and falling rapidly as your husband fucks into you with slow, deep strokes of his cock, one hand coming to rest on your pregnant belly to hold you closer to him. “Ri-right there. Pl-please, I’m gonna cum.”

“That fast?” Jimin chuckles against your ear, and it sends shivers down your spine. “I barely even started and you’re cumming all over my cock already? My baby must have missed me.”

“You have no fucking idea,” you pant as your hips push back onto his cock. You take his hand on your belly in yours and press it against your skin. “This baby missed you too.”

Jimin sinks his cock into your depths and remains there, tilting your chin back so that he can kiss your lips. “Daddy missed you too, little one. I missed you and your mother so much.”

Lying like this, his chest against your back with his cock buried balls deep inside you, and both of your hands wrapped around your swollen belly, you can’t help but feel as if sex has reached a whole new level of intimacy. You feel him so deep inside you that you’re not quite sure where you end and he begins, and as he begins to thrust slowly again, you reach down to fondle your clit.

“Need help?” Jimin presses a kiss onto your shoulder before he gently pushes your hand away. “I’ll do it. Let me.”

He pinches and flicks at your clit expertly, till he feels your walls start to clamp down around his cock as he keeps up his slow but deep thrusts. Every slap of skin against skin resounds in the room, Jimin can feel your arousal soaking his balls as he works to bring you to your climax. Your little moans and whines are music to his ears, pleas of his name fall from your lips as his cock presses against your filled womb, and you collapse around him.

Your orgasm washes over you as you cry out his name, thighs trembling and pussy quivering around his cock. The pleasure that you had been seeking for months now overrides all your senses, and you are on cloud nine as your husband helps you to ride out your orgasm, pulling out now and giving you shallow thrusts to prolong your ecstasy.

Jimin kisses your shoulder as you lie boneless in his arms, sweat dampening your body as you come down from your high. Just as he makes to pull out, you clench around him with your kegel muscles, taking Jimin absolutely by surprise.

“I’ve been practicing these, you know,” you grin at him. “It’s an exercise for pregnant women.”

“Fuck, you absolute minx,” Jimin can’t help but flash you a greasy smile as he reaches down to kiss you again. “That’s why I love you.”

“I love you too,” you mumble against his lips before pushing your ass back against him. “Now go ahead and finish. Don’t give me any crap about not wanting to hurt me. I want you to finish inside me.”

“How can I say no to that? You love it when I cum inside you, don’t you? It’s what got you into this state in the first place, my good girl,” Jimin’s hips surge forward once again as your walls clench around his cock. With you consciously tightening your walls, he’s brought to the edge in no time, desperate little whines leaving his plush lips as he thrusts into you slightly harder as his cock erupts, and he paints your walls white with his semen.

Jimin groans into your neck as his hips twitch, and you can feel his cock spilling more and more of his cum into your pussy. The feeling is warm and wet, and you reach back to play with his balls absently, feeling them twitch in your grasp as he unloads into your depths.

“You came so much,” you say to him, counting about ten spurts in total.

Jimin grunts again as his cock begins to soften inside you, sighing with pleasure as his blue balls from the previous months are finally relieved. He is already starting to leak out of your pussy as his dick slips out, and he pushes himself into a sitting position, helping you onto your back with your thighs spread so he can admire the view.

“So fucking beautiful.” Watching your pregnant pussy leak with his cum and seeing your rounded belly fills Jimin with the most joy he’s ever felt in his entire life. When you tighten your kegel muscles to squeeze out even more cum, Jimin groans under his breath.

“That’s so fucking hot,” he bends down to catch a glob of his cum on his tongue, swiping through your creamy folds to clean you up. His soft and wet tongue against your lips relaxes you, and you sigh against his touch, feeling more than seeing Jimin eat you out to another orgasm since your belly blocks most of the action.

When he’s done, his head of purple hair pops up from between your legs again, and he wears a cum smeared grin on his face. “You okay? Does anything hurt?”

“Come here, wanna cuddle,” you demand, and Jimin obliges immediately, spooning your frame with his as your eyes flutter shut. “Give me a second before we go again. I want a second and third and fourth round. To make up for all those months.”

A soft giggle bubbles out of his mouth onto your shoulder. “Yes, ma’am.”

For a moment you lie there, completely content in your husband’s arms as he traces meaningless patterns onto your belly. Then, suddenly you feel a foreign pressure on your lower abdomen.

It can only be one thing.

Your husband is almost slumbering behind you, completely unaware of this as you turn to him calmly, shaking him to wake him up.

“Jimin, I’m getting contractions.”

[Epilogue]

“There’s mail!” He announces, shutting the door and escaping from the snowy weather outside. Jimin removes his jacket and then his emerald scarf, hanging it on the coat rack beside your own yellow scarf. “Jeongguk wants us to bring the baby to visit. This is the fifth time he’s sent us a letter. He might send us a Howler next time.”

“Not a chance!” You shout from the living room. “He’s going to kidnap our child and make him the literal poster child for Hogwarts. We wouldn’t get him back until he’s eighteen.”

Jimin walks to the kitchen island and sets the newspaper aside, ripping open the envelopes. “That’s fine by me.”

“I heard that.”

In one of the envelopes, a moving picture falls out. It’s an image of Ryujin and Taehyung together, gathering the first years potion class to stand in a crowd outside the castle as each of the students hold a vial of what he recognizes as a Cure for Boils. There are drawings in the mail too, messages from the students at Hogwarts and how both you and him are dearly missed.

In the past few months, Ryujin has sent numerous letters asking questions regarding lesson plans and where certain ingredients are. A lot of the times, her questions come with baby gifts, like onesies or toys. Apparently the Slytherins, one of them being Yoongi, have been running amok in the castle too, giving Yuri a hard time. Jimin can only imagine the kids’ fear the day you return to whip them back into shape.

“Ryujin sent another picture!”

“Oh really?” Usually, you’d come running to take a look, but today you stay where you are. “Put it in the empty frame we have.”

“Will do,” he chimes out.

In the past year, you’ve settled down happily. Your cottage in Hogsmeade is cozy and quaint, the perfect home the pair of you could’ve asked for. To the point where you’re scared Jimin might not want to return to teaching since he’s so entirely content with everything.

It wasn’t all butterflies and rainbows. There were definitely hard times nights where the newborn wouldn’t catch a wink of sleep and only wanted to suck you dry of your milk. Your overbearing family came to help out, Jimin’s parents coming to assist. Sometimes you have students visiting when they visit Hogsmeade as well, though they always run for the hills after your kid pukes all over them. The only person who hasn’t been deterred is Seokjin who’s visited a handful of times. Though you haven’t opened the door for him the last two times since he’s always coming to talk about being Head Boy and giving you headaches.

Nevertheless, now that the baby was a bit older, ten months to be exact, things were a bit less chaotic.

Maybe you could call it peaceful — except your son isn’t calm at all.

From the time of conception to now, his existence is best described as a tornado. He’s always causing trouble for you no matter where he is or what he’s doing.

At ten months, his personality was beginning to show. He was stubborn and picky like you, but worse. If he was dissatisfied with the flavour of yogurt at breakfast, he would pick it up by the fistful and hurl it straight at your face as if he was an angry customer at a restaurant and you were his slave server. Like Jimin, your son would chuck books away when it had too many words and he absolutely hated storytime. But he was cunning, playful and flirtatious, leaving older ladies swooning when he flashes a smile that crinkles his eyes into half-moons. He was always smiling, knowing how to get people dancing in the palm of his chubby, tiny hand.

And your son has started to crawl everywhere at astronomical speeds. You can barely keep up with him. Once he starts walking, you don’t know what to do. But you can never get too mad when he wrecks havoc. The fact that your son is a spitting image of your pouty and loving husband is both a curse and a blessing.

“How’s our Sapling—?” Jimin enters the living room and then stops. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing, nothing.” But it doesn’t look like nothing. The baby is sitting up and there are four different cars in front of him — blue, yellow, green, and red. Jimin swears the green is closest to the baby’s hand. “Shh...don’t say anything, he’s deciding. It’s a very important choice. You can’t influence him.”

You say that even as you not-so-subtly nudge the green car closer to your son.

“He’s deciding?” Your husband plops down on the floor beside you.

“Which one?” you coo at your boy.

The child leans over, nearly toppling with the weight of his chubby cheeks. But he manages and both your breaths hitch together. Your eyes watch. And your son….he extends his hand...reaching…...for the car that’s….re—

You take the red car, swiping it before your son can and you chuck it across the room. It hits against the wall, making a small dent in the white paint and smashing to pieces. You grin, holding up the green car.

“GREEN! What a good choice! Green, right?! I knew it!”

The two of you laugh — you in hysteria and Jimin in amusement.

It doesn’t help that your son’s favourite stuffed toy is a lion.

Jimin leans over, planting a gentle kiss on your cheek. Your son crawls towards him, not interested in the green car, and Jimin lifts him up into his arms. He smiles, kissing his cheek too while standing up. As Jimin walks into the kitchen, he gazes at his son and whispers underneath his breath, “yellow, right?”

“I heard that!” you shout and your husband grins, a cheesy smile that’s not guilty at all.

“I love you!”

#bts #btssmutclub #bts jimin #bts smut #bangtan bookclub #bts jimin smut #bts hogwarts au #bangtanwriters-net

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