#got an email from my university’s graduate school that was all ‘thank you grad students you are the backbone of our university’

[paradisetemporarilymisplaced]

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[ahtsumu]

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu​! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: m.osamu@hqu.edu

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: m.osamu@hqu.edu

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

OM

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: m.osamu@hqu.edu

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: m.osamu@hqu.edu

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

OM

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving. 

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 1

Summary: Professor Laszlo Kreizler is a pretentious ass - that's the only way you could possibly explain the man. That being said, you needed a job to help pay for grad school, and the position of being his TA was the only thing available. You'll suck it up and deal with it, but the last thing you'll do is let this man get inside your head in the process.

WC: 1012

Rated: M (rating will go up)

Chapter Tags: dialogue heavy, “i dont give a damn about my reputation”, psychology talk

Check out the masterlist in my bio for more info & chapters!

🧠

“Please - I’ll take literally anything you’ve got,” you beg the hunched-over man behind the desk. Bills had begun to pile up at your tiny apartment off campus, but given you were knees deep in your graduate program you were too busy for a full-time job. Due to your constant presence in the university library you figured it made the most sense to just get a job at your school.

The clerk huffed at you and typed into his desktop. You could see the reflection of the screen in his bifocals. Other younger students milled about as you wait; you just hope that they don’t sense your impending panic.

“Well,” the man drones. “There is only one avalible position. It’s as a TA in the psychology department.”

“YES. I’ll take it, seriously, I don’t even care who it’s with, please.” He just looks at you over his glasses at the outburst. He types for another minute.

“I’ve sent the information to your student email, please have all the documentation filled out as soon as possible. This position has been open for some time now, so the start date is this Monday. All the details are in the email.” You don’t bother questioning why nobody wanted the job to begin with, too excited that you found a way to pay the bills.

“Thanks so much” - you read his name tag - “Roger, you are my hero.” Throwing your hands up in relief, you bid him a good night and head home. You didn’t hear him mumble “your funeral, kid.”

_

Bitsy, your roommate was already home when you burst in the door, bottle of cheap wine in your hand. “And tonight, we celebrate!” you announce. The two of you met in a required English course your junior year. You had gotten a two-bedroom off campus before your senior year. After graduation she entered the workforce as a journalist; you continued with your studies.

She whips her head from the tv at you. “You got a job?” You nod and do a little dance as an answer. “It’s about time, rent don’t pay itself, sweetie,” she sasses.

“Hey,” you point the bottle at her, “I haven’t let you down yet and I don’t intend to.”

She just laughs. “Nah I know, you’re the best roommate I’ve had in a long, long time.” Her New York accent is in full force tonight. Bitsy mutes the tv. “So what is this job?”

You snatch two mugs from the cabinet and plop next to her on the threadbare couch. “TA in the psych department.” You pour both of you generous glasses before chugging half your own and refilling it.

Your roommate squints at you suspiciously. “Do you even know anything about psych?”

She’s got you there. You feign offence at her question; “Of course, I took that one introductory course in undergrad with Stratton. I loved it, but I didn’t have room in my schedule to take any more. I know more than you think. And I did go to that shrink for a while.” She nods at you, knowing you didn’t like to discuss it much.

“Is she who you’ll be working for?”

“Um, I don’t know, didn’t ask.” You open your email app on your phone. “Roger, the love of my life at the student center, emailed me the information about the job. Let me check.” Bitsy waits as you search through the documents on your phone. It doesn’t take long.

Assignment:

Dr. Laszlo Kreizler

Courses: Introductory Psychology, Abnormal Psychology, & Criminal Psychology

“Who is Doctor… Kreezler?” Bitsy gasps. You furrow your brows at her reaction, confused. “What?”

“You’re working with Kreizler?” She cringes.

“I guess?” You look up to see her face. “I don’t- Bits, what's the big deal?” Now you begin to panic.

“Dr. Kreizler has a reputation on campus…”

And? “What is he like, a manwhore or something?”

“Jesus, the complete opposite. Everybody hates him - he grades impossible, requires that you come to see him during office hours and half the students leave ready to cry. He’s genius, but a dick.”

She continues, “I once heard a guy in the dining hall talking about how the professor called out this freshman in class and asked all these personal questions about how her grandfather dying fucked her up or something. He tries to get into everybody’s head. Never heard a good thing about him. I wouldn’t be shocked if he had a forked tongue and horns to go with it.”

Okay now you are definitely panicked.

At your paled complexion Bitsy backtracks “Oh but I’m sure he’s not all terrible? I mean you know, underclassmen - fail one test and the professor is evil…” Her words did little to ease you.

You spent the rest of the night and bottle researching Dr. Kreizler. He had no social media and there was only one picture online, but it was blurry. All you could make out was dark hair and a beard. He had been teaching at the university the last 4 years after moving from the University of Munich in Germany. You were able to find a few articles on one of his PhD theses, A Study of the Alien Mind: The Role of Societal Flaw in Creating Monsters Among Men. Skimming some, you note that he is very intellectual and wordy in his explanations.

Opening up the Rate My Professor website, you look him up.

“I’d give 0 stars if I could - he is the worst!!!”

“Literally f*ck this guy”

“Read my ass off, came to all office hours, still barely got a D in his 100 level”

“Not as bad with upper level courses, but only if you know how he works and can deal with his temper. Don’t expect higher than a C tho”

“watch out or he’ll try to psychoanalyze you in front of the entire class”

You blew a long breath out and closed your laptop. The clock on your bedside table read almost 2 am. I need this job, I need this job, I NEED this job, you chant to yourself.

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

[atlafan]

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.”

[smallraindrops-blog]

hi! could you do a hypnos x male! reader for the prompt worry? and if you're able to make a continuation of the Sweatshirt one because that one was just ugh- SO GOOD

Time Ain't Got Nothing On Me

Prompt: worry

1.4

Warning: family issues, no beta. Implied sex but mainly just cuddling and kissing.

A/N: Sorry for the wait, anon. I am so glad you like Sweatshirt! Hope you like this one just as much and its set in the same universe as Sweatshirt. Enjoy!

You were perfectly aware you looked like a gremlin hunched over your laptop as your only source of light with a mug half full of coffee, crumbled wrappers of protein bars and an open bottle of B12 on your desk.

Thankfully Hypnos wasn't around to see his totally normal boyfriend turned into a feral graduate student working on the final edit of his research paper.

Hypnos had to tend to family business matters and he wasn't exactly happy about it or that he had to be gone for a week. Hypnos had taken up to offering part time help and he claimed that it was only for pocket money. It was a lie but you didn't call him out on it. You knew it was Hypnos' last ditch attempt to save his relationship with his mom and twin.

You fiddled your sleeve, the red sweatshirt that had become something of a safety blanket for you over the past year and half You have been together with Hypnos. You slumped into the sweatshirt, It still smelled like him and his cologne.

But you much rather have him home right now. You looked back at the research work, the blue light harsh on your tired eyes.

For what had to be for the ten million times, you asked yourself why in the world you thought going grad school was a good idea.

You stared at your screen, none of the words even looked like words anymore. Were words even real? Or just sounds humans made to uselessly fight the crushing void of time?

You reached for your mug and took a sip, only to spit out the coffee. You scowled at your mug and told yourself to get up and make more coffee.

You put the mug back down and promptly forgot about the cold coffee. You went to the next page and stared at the words, willing them to make sense to you.

"Y/N? Babe?"

You slowly looked up from your laptop and saw Hypnos standing in the den's doorway, a suitcase by his feet.

It was the one few times you saw him dressed up and not in a pair of torn jeans or basketball shorts. Hypnos wore a black wool coat that hid the suit he wore under and a red scarf with a pair of black gloves. He looked like one of those businessmen who had more money than god.

He looked good, really good.

You blushed, knowing you looked like a mess next to Hypnos. You quickly start picking up your trash."I thought you were coming back in three days." You croaked.

Hypnos turned the light on before he walked over, "I ditched at first chance I got. I got the important bits taken care of, the rest of it was just rich clients jerking off to their own smell."

You tossed most of the trash in the small trashcan next to you, hating how gross you felt. At least you showered this morning and wore clean clothes today.

Hypnos tugged you closer, his hand cool on your elbow. You went willingly and returned the hug. You could smell the cold on him along with his cologne and signed happily.

"How were your mom and brothers?" You moved back but stayed in his arms.

"They're...Good." Hypnos muttered, his eyes darted away for a second before he looked back at you.

You frowned at him, not liking Hypnos' caginess. "What happened?"

"Nothing. I'm just jetlagged." Hypnos smiled weakly.

"Hypnos." You warned. Hypnos slumped, a rueful look on his face. "Mom is getting ready for retirement. And Thanatos is getting more pushy about me fully rejoining the family business."

"You don't have to even help as much as you already do, they do realize that right?" You asked flatly. "You are already doing this stuff along with twitch and helping your friend make that video game."

"I know, Y/N, but It's my family." Hypnos shook his head, "We can talk about it later. I'm really happy to be back home with you. You look really good in my sweatshirt by the way."

You softened despite yourself and cupped his face. "I miss you."

"I missed you too." Hypnos tilted your chin up to give you a slow kiss.

"And actually food that ain't covered in gold leaf." Hypnos pulled away, holding on your chin. "How does taking a break for tonight with some Chinese food sound?"

Your stomach growled,"Sounds perfect. The usual?"

"Yeah you're okay ordering?" Hypnos asked. You nodded and he kissed you again quickly this time. "Thanks, I'm going to get out of this ugly outfit."

"You look good to me." You told him, rubbing your fingers on the wool coat.

"I look like a funeral director." Hypnos rolled his eyes.

"Hmm, I would let you direct me." You teased, pulling him into another kiss by his collar. He chuckled against your lips, "Duly noted."

💤

On a cold, dark and rainy morning you and Hypnos had made the hard choice of staying in bed.

Hypnos was pressed against your side, dozing on your shoulder. You played with his hair, letting one curl hold on your finger.

You checked your emails on your phone for your final grade, only to see nothing and sighed.

Two minutes laters, you repeated the action and sighed again.

"The more you check, the longer it will take." Hypnos said lowly. His hand ran down your chest and you silvered a bit. His hand stopped above your hip.

"Sorry did I wake you?" You asked, dropping your phone somewhere on the bed.

Hypnos gave a yawn, his eyes still closed. "No. You know you got this, right? You're like one of the smartest people I know."

You blushed at the casual compliment, and pressed a kiss between his eyebrows. Hypnos wrinkled his nose, and opened his eyes.

"I'm just worried. If I don't pass…" you trailed off.

"You will. You won arguments against Thanatos and he's some big shot lawyer." Hypnos squeezed your hip. "I can help you keep you busy if you like."

You just hummed, not saying anything. Hypnos pressed kisses against your shoulder, working his way to your neck. You found yourself slowly giving in when your phone buzzed with an alert.

"Wait-wait hold on." You rolled over and looked with bated breath. You groaned when you saw it was just an app alert.

Hypnos laid on your back, looking over your shoulder. He reached over and pulled the phone out of your hand. He pressed the off button.

"No more phone time until dinner." He told you.

You mumbled your agreement and kissed Hypnos' arm in lieu of an apology.

💤

Food is the only reason Hypnos ever leaves the bed but even then, it was a fight to get him out sometime.

"I'm hungry, Hypnos." You whined as he tightened his hold.

"Just a little longer." He muttered against your skin. "I know you're dying to check your phone."

"Can you blame me?" You sighed. "Hypnos. Please." You dragged out the please. Hypnos huffed and loosen his hold.

"You're lucky I love you so much." Hypnos pouted. You pressed a kiss against his nose, "Thank you for keeping my mind off of school." You reclaimed your phone and turned it on as you walked into the kitchen.

"I love you too!" You called back.

You had opened the fridge when you saw the email.

You opened it, heard pounding. You read and reread it again.

"Well?" Hypnos asked, pulling an white shirt over his head. He was trying not to show his nervousness.

You looked up, "I passed. I am officially done with school." You said numbly, not really comprehending that it was done. All those late nights, and studying were done.

It was over.

Hypnos cheered and hugged you firmly. "I told you so. Smartest person I know."

You laughed,"I will never have to think or even read ever again."

Hypnos snorted, "Good luck with that. You love overthinking about everything and reading."

"Well, I have a boyfriend who knows how to help me not think." You told him.

You still had a lot of worries, Hypnos and his family, about what life will look like without school.

But here in this moment with Hypnos you just existed, happy and in love.

[thadelightfulone]

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 2

November 15-19th, Part 2

Erik Stevens’ office phone rang incessantly, even after he told his assistant to hold all calls. When it finally quieted down, he stood up to stretch the stiff muscles of his neck, shoulders and arms. He moved in front of the floor to ceiling window that makes up the back wall of his office. Taking a few deep breaths, he rubbed his temples when the cell phone in his jacket pocket started to ring.  

“T. Can I breathe? We have been working on this project all morning.” Silence greeted him on the other end. “Hello?”

“My bad. I figured you would be at lunch right about now. It’s after 3 over here.” The voice spoke. 

Erik looked at the contact on his phone and started laughing, “Damn man, I’m sorry. My cousins and I have been working on this project and -- let’s just say I am ready for a vacation.”

“It’s ok. I get it man. I have about 4 students preparing to defend their dissertations next month. I am nowhere near ready.” 

“That’s right, Dr. Oubre, preparing our future doctors of science and research. So, what’s up?” 

“Well, I just spoke with Dr. Giacomo and she said someone came around asking about you.”

“Really for what?”

“Yeah, I guess they came across one of your papers and decided to find you.” 

Erik rolled his eyes, “So, why would they go to her and not just reach out to me directly?”

“Look, I don’t know. I am just letting you know what was relayed to me, but I wanted to reach out to you before I gave out your information.”

“Bruh, give them my email and get off my phone.” Erik laughed at how silly Marquis was being. 

“Aye, you can never be too sure. I’m just looking out for you.” Marquis whispered into the phone.

Erik walked over to his desk and leaned against the edge, “Quis, man what is really going on?”

“I don’t want to send you another stalker.” Marquis sighed before laughing.

“HA, man. No one could have seen that shit coming.” Erik began to laugh as well. “I definitely lucked out when she graduated before us. Who knows how bad that could have gotten?”

“True, true.” Marquis cleared his throat, “By the way, Serena asked about you. She wants to know when you are bringing yo black ass back to Louisiana? You know to see us, your friends and extended family?”

“What else? I know she didn’t stop there.” Erik retorted. 

“Oh, the usual. Has he found anyone yet? When is he gonna settle down? Yada, yada, yada.” Marquis shot back. 

“Of course, she did.” Erik sighed out. “I definitely want to take some time off, so I can come and see you both, including my nieces and nephew. I just don’t know when that will be.” 

“Alright man, I understand. Look, I just wanted to give you a heads up about the contact. But I gotta run to class now.” Marquis rushed out.

“Yeah, I’ll hit you up later this week.” Erik said before hanging up. 

Setting his phone down on his desk, he closed his eyes. Arms crossed over his chest, he relaxed into the moment. Alternating between short and long breathes, he felt himself calming down from the morning and the call from his best friend and brother. 

They met in undergrad and were as thick as thieves instantly. You never saw one without the other anywhere on campus. And then, while they were in grad school Marquis met Serena, who would later become his wife. 

Laughing to himself, Erik recalled being jealous of what they had and continued to build together. It reminded him of his parents’ relationship and the love they had for one another. He rolled his eyes as his mind started to wander. Serena wasn’t the only one asking those kinds of questions lately.

Shaking those thoughts from his head, he decided to focus on the reason for Marquis’ call. Someone from Southern University was looking for him, that’s very interesting. He hadn’t thought of his alma mater much since returning home to Oakland, about 10 years ago. Outside of Marquis and his family, who he kept in touch with; he never needed to think about it. He had written plenty of papers due to his current research and his studies while he was working on his doctorate, so it does make sense. Well, whoever it is will be reaching out to him soon enough. 

---

It’s been three days since DeeDee learned that her mystery man was connected to a current faculty member on campus. She walked to his office and knocked on the open door. 

“Hey Dr. O.” DeeDee said to get his attention.

“Come in, DeeDee.” 

DeeDee walked into Dr. Marquis Oubre’s office and took a seat in front of his desk. She pulled out her notebook and set it down on her lap.

“So, how are things going?” Dr. Oubre asked as he walked over to the chair next to her. 

“They are going, but it could be better.” DeeDee answered as she fiddled with her fingers.

Marquis sat down and crossed his leg at the knee. “What’s bothering you, DeeDee?”

“I’m nervous about how all the interviews went. I mean they were all in September and October, and I have not heard anything.”

“What did I tell you when you left for the first one in San Diego?”

DeeDee sighed and rolled her eyes, “I will know if they are a great fit for me and not the other way around.”

“That’s right. Besides, you visited about 6 schools over a 2 month period. Those are on-campus interviews and that number is unheard of DeeDee.” Dr. Oubre looked at her, “I didn’t even get that many.”

“Really?” DeeDee looked at him in disbelief. 

Dr. Oubre discussed his entire experience of applying for a tenure-track position. DeeDee listened as much as she could manage, but in the back of her mind, all she could think about is the fact that her doctoral mentor knew her mystery man. She wanted to blurt it out when she first walked in, but it didn’t seem like the right thing to do. But now, she is reminded that the man can talk and couldn’t wait any longer. 

“Dr. O?” DeeDee interrupted his current train of thought.

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you about a former student?” She picked up the notebook, pulling out a printed out black and white newspaper clipping. DeeDee handed it to him.

He took it from her, looked at the image and laughed. “It’s you?” 

DeeDee looked at him in confusion. 

“You know people talk around here and I am friends with a lot of folks in Computer Science. Dr. Giacomo told me that someone was looking for Erik. I guess I just wasn’t thinking it would be you.” He continued to laugh. 

“Oh. Of course, she would.” DeeDee huffed out as she scooted further back into the chair.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh.” He reached for her notebook, “May I?” 

DeeDee handed him the notebook. Dr. Oubre pulled the ink pen from his dress shirt and wrote on the first blank page he found. He handed it back to her. 

“That’s his email. He said that he is fine with you asking him anything.” 

“Wait. What? He is expecting to hear from me?” DeeDee fumbled with the notebook when Dr. Oubre handed it over.

“Yes, he was surprised that you didn’t just search for him using the information on the article.”

DeeDee silently chastised herself, remembering what she told the other professor the other day. “About that, I didn’t even think of it. I saw Southern University and that was all she wrote.” She nervously laughs. 

“No problem. I’m sure he’ll be able to answer whatever questions you have.” Dr. Oubre stood up. “So, how’s your unnecessary prepwork going?” 

“It’s not unnecessary. I just want to be prepared, Dr. O.”

“DeeDee, you have been studying this stuff for the last 4 years. You know it and your 150 page dissertation shows that.” He moved around behind his desk, “They are only going to ask you about what is in there and what work you want to do with the information from this study.” 

“I understand that, but --” 

“Look, you have nothing to worry about. It is more a presentation then an actual defense. And I wouldn’t stress about the lack of response from those other universities about your interviews because I know you have applied to others. You got this.” 

DeeDee took a deep breath before responding, “You are right, Dr. O. I have applied to about 5 other places, but those were all in my top 2 tiers.”

“And about your upcoming defense?” 

“Right again. I know it like the back of my hand. So, I will try not to stress about it anymore.” DeeDee stood up and grabbed her things.

“Glad to hear it. Oh, by the way, you do know Dr. Bell is retiring at the end of the year?” 

“Yeah, they told all of us last week. Sounds like the annual department Christmas party will be her retirement party.” 

Dr. Oubre handed her a small flyer, “That’s right. Here’s your invitation. Hope to see you there.”

DeeDee looked down at it, “I’m there with bells on.” She laughed at her little joke.

“Nope, you gotta go.” He pointed at the door, while trying not to laugh. “I don’t think we need to meet next week, unless something comes up and you want to talk.”

“I agree.” DeeDee stopped at the door and held up the notebook, “And thanks again for this, Dr. O.” 

“You’re welcome, DeeDee.” He sat down and watched as DeeDee left his office. 

---

Sitting at her home office desk, DeeDee stared at the blank message box on her computer screen. The only thing typed out was Erik’s email address. She picked up her glass of water and took a sip. 

She spent the last hour looking up information on him. Found out that he’s back in Oakland and not even active in the science field anymore. He was the Director for one of the Wakanda Outreach Centers. It was fascinating what she read and found out about the work he was currently doing. 

And just like that, she was afraid to move forward. It should be simple. Send him an email about finding the little note in an old textbook. The end. He could do whatever he wanted with the information. But DeeDee’s mind was playing out possible scenarios like stuff she had seen in her favorite sappy romantic movies. And while the thought excited her, it also freaked her out at the same time. 

Things like that did not happen to women like her. Sure, she was kind of pretty and low maintenance, but most guys did not find her interesting enough to have a relationship with. And because of that she just didn’t try to pursue them, which is much different than what her friends believed about her. There was no message in a bottle type romance or love for her. So, why even bother?

She closed the email and decided to let the matter go. At least, she found out who wrote the note. Curiosity piqued and answered. Now, time to focus on her future and career.

Taglist: @teakturn @ghostfacekill-monger @shaekingshitup @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @woahitslucyylu @ladymac82 @bugngiz @eyeknowmywrites @ajspencer1892 @blackpinup22 @sarcastic-sunshines​

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

[douchebagbrainwaves]

MAKER'S SCHEDULE, 631, BRIEFLY

I'm a writer, and writers always get disproportionate attention. How did they stand it? Their main expenses are setting up the company, which costs a couple thousand Altair owners, but without this software they were programming in machine language. Those ideas are so rare that you can't find some way to reach me, how are you going to create a successful company? For a startup, managing them is one of the first 10 employees you'll have almost as much.1 Families are entitled to their own traditions, and who the competitors are and why this company is going to beat them.2 In the late 90s my professor friends used to complain that they couldn't get grad students, because all the undergrads were going to let hosts rent out space on their floors during conventions. Part of the reason I can't believe it will be more like being able to play the two firms off each other as well as talent, so this answer works out to be important, because a we invest such small amounts, and b we think it's better if startups operate out of their own premises, however crappy, than the offices of their investors.

If you're a freelancer or a small company doesn't ensure freedom.3 What makes a good startup idea, it's sort of like having a guilty conscience about something.4 There's an idea that has turned out to be a startup. For a lot of work.5 Which is exactly how I'd describe the way lions seem in the wild seem about ten times more alive. You probably can't overcome anything so pervasive as the model of work is a job. Don't sit on their boards. What really bothers parents about their teenage kids having sex are complex.6 It's not so much as that they never pander: they never say or do something because that's what the audience wants. So if you're going to optimize a number, the one to choose is your growth rate to compensate. In social settings, I found that I got over 100 other responses listing the surprises they encountered. If you don't understand YC.

At the time any random autobiographical novel by a recent college grad could count on more respectful treatment from the literary establishment. The angel now owns 200/1200 shares, or a job. The kind of question on the application form that asks what you're going to clear these lies out of your head, you're going to clear these lies out of your head, you're going to do, at least, nothing good.7 I often recommend that founders act like consultants—that they wanted to.8 In a startup, you don't even know that.9 If these guys had thought they were starting companies, they might have been.10 Viaweb entirely with angel money; it never occurred to us that investors were too conservative here—that they do what they'd do if they'd been in Nebraska, like Evan Williams was at their age? The saddest windows close when other people die.

And when you propagate that constraint, the result is that each species thrives in groups of a certain group, that seems nearly impossible to shake. Someone who's figured that out will automatically focus more on the idea. The only explanation is: by definition. It's not just a figure of speech to say that the outcome is zero. The artists who benefited most from this were the ones who had preserved a child's confidence, like Klee and Calder. Once you have all the college students, you get rich is that there are many degrees of it. It could be replaced on any of these axes it has already started to be on most. When you're a little kid and you're asked to do something differently.

But not all waste is bad. Later I learned it hadn't been so neat, and the three founders each get 25%. Along with such outright lies, there must have been told a lot of economic history, and I understand the startup world is evolving away from their current model.11 If you seem really good we'll accept you anyway. Even in the rare cases where a clever hack makes your fortune, you probably have an idea.12 At least, that's how we'd describe it in present-day languages, if they'd had them. The way you get taught programming in college would be like teaching writing as grammar, without mentioning that its purpose is to make me feel better. After two years, the un-rapacious that you only extract half as much from users as you could. If you have something that no competitor does and that some subset of users urgently need, you have to seem like you understand technology.13 On that scale, every negotiation is unique.14 I was cynical about VCs, but the way he composed them into molecules was near faultless.15 But unfortunately when you graduate, as long as you want.16

Notes

Thanks to Daniel Sobral for pointing this out. Make it clear when you ad lib you end up reproducing some of the things they've tried on the LL1 mailing list. What you learn in college or what grades you got in them, initially, to sell earlier than you expect. But while this is also a name.

In fact most of them. But try this experiment is that if you conflate them you're aiming at. The worst explosions happen when unpromising-seeming startups do badly.

Y Combinator certainly never asks what classes you took in college. This approach has not worked well, but this would work better, and that modern corporate executives were, we try to accept a particular number.

Aristotle the core: the editor in Lisp, they may try to accept that investors are induced by the surface similarities. Com of their assets; and with that additional constraint, you can't help associating it with such a statement would merely be eccentric.

Most word problems in school math textbooks are bad: Webpig, Webdog, Webfat, Webzit, Webfug. Without the prospect of publication, the assembly line, the closest anyone has come is Secretary of Labor Statistics, about 28%.

I think the usual way to fight. The next time you raise as you can see the apples, they made much of it, and no one who's had the discipline to pull it off. Successful founders are driven by people trying to decide whether to go to college, they would implement it and make a lot of investors caring either.

P nonspam are both genuinely formidable, and the exercise of stock options than any preceding president, he was otherwise unoccupied, to get into the heads of would-be startup founders who had been a good idea to make more money. The best thing for startups is very long: it might take an hour over the Internet, like hedge funds, are available only to buy corporate bonds to market faster; the Reagan administration's comparatively sympathetic attitude toward takeovers; the crowds of shoppers drifting through this huge mall reminded George Romero of zombies. That it might take an hour over the Internet. Yes, I had zero effect on the relative weights?

The VCs recapitalize the company, and yet managed to screw up twice at the data, it's probably good grazing. I should add that we're not. They did turn out to be a win to include things in shows that people start to pull ahead in the field.

Galbraith was clearly puzzled that corporate executives would work so hard to mentally deal with the founders gained from running through their initial attitude. Sparse Binary Polynomial Hash Message Filtering and The Old Way. One thing that drives most people emerge from the moment it's created indeed, from hour to hour that the worm might have done all they could be overcome by changing the shape of the bizarre consequences of this: You may not be far less demand for them.

Indiana University Bloomington 1868-1970.

Trevor Blackwell points out that taking time to come up with an associate cold-emailing a startup could grow big in revenues without including the order of 10,000, because investors already owned more than their competitors, who may have realized this, but simply because he was skeptical about Viaweb too. See Greenspun's Tenth Rule. We just store the data, it's software that doesn't seem to want them; you have significant expenses other than salaries that you decide the price, and for filters it's textual.

P 500 CEOs in the sophomore year. It was only because he had more fun than he'd had in school, and philosophy the imprecise half. The philistines have now missed the video boat entirely.

As we walked out we ran into Yuri Sagalov. Emmett Shear writes: I'd argue the long tail for sports may be common in, you'll have to replace you. It took a painfully long time.

The reason Y Combinator.

This is an instance of a safe will be coordinating efforts among partners. In practice it just feels like a loser they're done, she doesn't like getting attention in the definition of property.

The thing to do sales yourself initially. 5%. At first I didn't care about GPAs.

Thanks to Paul Buchheit, Gary Sabot, Trevor Blackwell, Tiffani Ashley Bell, and Jeff Arnold for sharing their expertise on this topic.

[thorne93]

The Stars Made Us (Part 2)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 1436

Warnings: angst and language throughout

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter​​ and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence​​, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​​, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong​​ and @arrow-guy​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up in the early afternoon, your parents greeted you with a bit of a chuckle.

“Stay up too late with Jenny?” your mom asked with a teasing smirk. It was a habit of yours and Jenny to probably stay up way past your bedtime, but so long as it wasn’t a school night, your parents never cared.

“Actually… I.. uh, have some news,” you announced as you grabbed some bacon for a BLT that they’d made for lunch.

“Oh?” your dad asked, his eyes still on his laptop. “What’s that?”

“So… Jenny was kind of joking around last night and said that I should try to write on my arm, you know… to see if I had a soulmate…” you began explaining, twisting your fingers around nervously as you sat at the table.

Your parents just looked at you curiously.

“Well, so I did. I wrote something on my arm, and I waited to see if someone would write back… and they did,” you said, showing them your arm. They saw the ‘Happy Birthday’, and the ‘Hi there’, with a smiling face.

“A soulmate?” your dad echoed, looking at your arm inquisitively.

“We’ve never had soulmates in the family, have we, dear?” your mom wondered as she looked over her cup at her husband.

“Not that I know of. Well what do you know about that?” he mused. “I don't see any more marks on your arms, did your mate not write back much last night?”

“No, we actually emailed. We thought it would be best if we reserve our skin.. You know, we don’t want a bunch of… tattoos of each other unless they’re meaningful.”

“Sounds sensible,” your mom noted with a smile. “So what do you know about them?”

“He’s a grad student. He’s 21. He graduated from Harvard at 16, and get this, he’s into psych. He studies it.”

“Graduated at 16?” your dad asked. “Are you sure this guy isn’t pulling your leg? What if he’s some bum?”

“If he is some bum, he’s got a great education. We stayed up all night emailing, and he’s quite well-read.”

“That sounds fantastic, honey. And, did you get his name?” she asked, a bit nervous.

You shook your head. “No, we agreed it wasn’t safe.”

“Good girl,” your mom commended.

“He’s 21, hmm?” your dad hummed. “Isn’t that a little old?”

“Oh, Anthony, don’t pretend like that’s some big gap. You and I have five years between us,” your mom reminded as she got up to pick up the kitchen.

“Yeah well we didn’t meet in high school either. We were adults.”

“I’d hardly call us adults. We were 23 and 28.”

Your dad just shook his head. “You just be careful, kiddo. Soulmate or not, there are weirdos out there.”

“Of course, Dad,” you said.

Well, that was out of the way. Your parents didn’t seem to be too upset, which was good.

You went upstairs to your room and sent an email to X.

“My parents know about us now,” you wrote.

“Do they approve?”

“They’re worried you’re a liar and a weirdo, lol,” you confessed with a smiley face.

“They might be right ; )”

“I reminded them that we won’t ever swap information until one of our names shows up.”

“Of course. As tempted as I am to meet you like a normal person, I don’t want to tamper with fate.”

“I feel the same. And your parents? Have you told them?”

“My parents have died. Happened a few years ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. That’s awful.”

“It’s sad, yes, but don’t let that bring down your mood, please. I miss them terribly. I bet they would’ve loved to meet you.”

“I would’ve loved to meet them.”

“Speaking of, we need to get registered.”

Registered? For what? A marriage license?

Then it hit you.

“Oh, you mean the soulmate registry?”

“That’s the one. Do you have access to it?”

“Yeah, I can just drive to it. It’s at the clerk’s office, right?”

“Yes, it is. Oh, I need to go, Y/F/I. I’ll talk to you later. Feel free to send me emails throughout the day.”

“Will do, X. I’ll go to the registry on Monday, after school.”

“Looking forward to it.”

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

The following afternoon, you went to the county clerk to file for a soulmate. You arrived at the building, stood in line, and finally, it was your turn. You were greeted by an older woman with a permanent scowl on her face.

“Can I help you?” she asked evenly.

“I, uh, I need to get registered for a soulmate?” you said tentatively. You had no idea how this part of the process went.

She eyed you up and down. “Very well, come with me.” She turned around and started to walk away from the counter and you looked around to see if you were supposed to follow. Since no one seemed to be stopping you as you inched towards the small opening in the counter, you went ahead and followed her.

“Do you have a driver’s license?” she asked once she reached a little podium against a wall.

You didn’t answer, instead you quickly searched your purse and wallet to retrieve the ID. She took it from you but before she did anything she asked you to show you the markings.

“I got these, on my arm,” you informed as you pushed your arm forward, your arms exposed.

“I’m just checking to make sure they aren’t tattoos,” she mused as she eyed them and scanned them with a small device that emitted purple light, you assumed it was a UV light or some form of it. “Alright, that all looks good.” With that, she turned to a computer and pulled up a file, scanning your driver’s license that filled out a bunch of forms and blanks - your name, age, social security, birthday, address. “Now, I need to document your markings. Put your arm right here,” she instructed, pointing to what looked like a small x-ray machine. It had a flat platform, a light, crosshairs, and an overhead lens. “Hold still,” she ordered.

You did your best to keep still as she pressed a button and the image was snapped.

“Did you write anything to them?” she asked, her voice stern.

“Yes, I wrote a few things,” you said, explaining everything you wrote and where.

“When did the markings appear? I need the date and time,” she informed.

“Alright, you’re officially in the system. Do you know their name?”

“No, we’ve only emailed and I refer to him as X?” you said, unsure.

“Good. I’m not sure if you know this or not, but we tell everyone who gets a mate: it’s never good to meet them before your time.”

“I’ve heard,” you noted quietly.

“It usually ends in an untimely death, and you don’t get another mate. No one has ever had more than one mate, even if their first one dies.”

You nodded. It made sense. The universe designed one person to fit your soul exactly, they couldn’t do that with two people, it would be crazy.

“No, yeah we agreed not to give any personal information away,” you confirmed.

“Good. Now, whenever your mate comes in to get registered, neither of you will be notified.”

You frowned for a moment. “So what’s the point in doing this?” you wondered.

“In case anything happens before you two meet, you can be notified. If you need a donor, your mate is notified. It’s mainly for record keeping, but just in case, they’re basically added to every In Case of Emergency list you have.”

“Really? Okay,” you said, a little more interested.

“Well you’re all set. Here’s some information for you,” she informed as she handed you a pamphlet. It said: So now you’ve got a soulmate, what this means for you.

Inside were several Do’s and Don'ts.

Do tell people you have a mate, so they don’t think you’re covered in tattoos of random words.

Don’t get the name of your soulmate before it appears on your skin. Their name and current location will appear when you are needed most by them.

Do be sure to include that you have a mate on any legal forms.

Don’t request a new mate.

… on and on it went. It made you smile and laugh at how… old it seemed to be.

Before you knew it, you were back in front of your computer screen, sending an update to X. He said he was busy today and would have to go to the clerk tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[morningfears]

Television Romance [Chapter One]

Rating: PG-13 (some swears, nothing major)

Summary: Natalia Adler is a stressed out grad student who attempts to escape the noise of her office by visiting her favorite coffee shop. However, instead of a few hours of writing, she gets a lap full of coffee and a date with the most gorgeous guy she’s ever met.

Word Count: 3.4k

Chapter Two

The graduate student office was usually busy, bustling with activity and overflowing with graduate students working on various research projects or grading coursework as well as undergraduate students seeking assistance with assignments. It was always difficult to concentrate among the din, there was always some conversation or another taking place that was much more interesting than writing yet another proposal, but Tuesdays were the worst.

On Tuesdays, the graduate teaching seminar met in the student office. For an hour each week, the teaching assistants dragged whatever chairs they could find to the center of the room and formed a circle to discuss problems that had arisen in their classrooms, questions they had about university policy, and an article on teaching practices they were assigned to - but never actually did - read. The class was supposed to be useful, a way for them all to prepare for their futures as academics, but it usually turned into a shouting match as the stronger personalities argued over one another about best practices in classroom management. And after, when the dust settled and the faculty facilitator was gone, students who didn’t have a one o’clock class stuck around to catch up on whatever departmental gossip they’d missed throughout the week.

Most days, Natalia was able to tune it all out. Her desk was in the corner, hidden behind a flimsy partition, and her noise cancelling headphones worked wonders to drown out the arguments. She didn’t love catching snippets of pointless conversations about which departmental policies were outdated - they all were - or which graduate students were sleeping together but she made it work. However, today was not one of those days.

She had several important deadlines looming over her head - conference submissions, revisions for a potential publication, the first draft of her thesis proposal, all due within days of one another - and she was feeling overwhelmed. The argument as to whether the department was too hard or too soft on students - or whether professors played favorites - was only making things worse. Instead of subjecting herself to two more hours of torture, she decided to pack up her bag and head to the coffee shop across the street. Even if it was loud, it had to at least be less hostile than the office.

She stood, satchel slung over one shoulder with her cellphone and headphones in hand, and glanced over the top of her partition at the girl who sat across from her. Nicole, like Natalia, wore headphones whenever she worked in the office and only glanced up when Natalia tossed a paperclip at her.

“I’m going to Molly’s,” she announced when Nicole pulled her headphones away from her ears and glanced up at her. Natalia struggled to keep her voice quiet in an attempt to avoid drawing attention to herself, though she was half certain she could yell and still not be heard over her colleagues. However, she remained cautious as the last thing she wanted was for anyone to join her. “You want anything?”

“A new job, a better salary, a husband who takes out the trash… I could go on,” Nicole answered, rolling her neck and grinning tiredly at Natalia’s deadpan expression. “I’ll settle for a caramel latte, though. With almond milk and extra caramel, please. I’ll Venmo you.”

“I’ve got it,” Natalia assured her with a wave of her hand as Nicole reached for her cellphone, “you got me boba last week. You have class at three, right?”

“Don’t remind me,” Nicole sighed as she dropped the device, straightened up in her chair, and pulled a face as she glanced at the syllabus tacked to her partition wall. “We’re going over how Marxism influenced Burke today. I think I’d rather chew off my own foot than try to teach a group of undergrads about either Marxism or Burke.”

“I know the point of college is to make kids think,” Natalia began as she hoisted her bag a little higher on her shoulder and ambled around her partition to stop beside Nicole’s desk, “but I’m glad I got the class that’s a little more, ‘well, duh,’ than that. We’re going over how fundamentally fucked the US healthcare system is today.”

Nicole paused for a moment, staring at Natalia with a look that reeked of both annoyance and exhaustion, before she dropped her head to her desk and asked, “Is it too late to drop out?”

This was a conversation they’d had at least once a week since their first semester of graduate school and Natalia bit back a laugh as she nodded. “Yep. You’re halfway through your thesis proposal, no quitting now,” she pointed out as she nodded toward the stack of books on religious rhetoric that Nicole had stacked on her desk. “Anyway, only eight more months until we’re free.”

“I’m three pages in,” Nicole informed her, a pitiful whine erupting from her throat as she lifted her head and ran a hand through her unwashed curls. “This is going to be a long semester.”

Natalia, who had been under the impression that she was impossibly behind although she only lacked a completed methodology section, grimaced upon learning just how far behind Nicole was. She gave her friend a gentle pat on the shoulder and, although she had her own deadlines to meet, offered her assistance. “I’ll probably be sticking around after class tonight,” she informed her as she thought about the papers she still needed to grade, “if you need me to help with anything, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Nicole sighed as she turned in her chair and smiled at Natalia, the exhaustion evident in her features although they were only a month into the semester. “I’m thinking about a writing party on Friday so that people can submit conference papers and then go get hammered after. You in?”

“Always down for drinks after opening myself up for rejection. You can send out an email and maybe follow up with a GroupMe or something. Your husband won’t mind you spending Friday with us?” she asked as she glanced over at the group of students, now talking instead of arguing, that still remained in the room. Although they got on her nerves sometimes, she had grown to love most of them.

“He’s going to a football game with some friends. If I stay home, I’ll just end up falling asleep in the tub with a glass of wine. I’ll send the email after class,” Nicole answered as she grabbed her headphones and moved to reposition them onto her ears. “Go, get out of here before someone stops you. You’ll be back by three?”

“Yeah, I’ll be back before you have to leave. I’ll text you when I’m on my way over. See you in a bit,” Natalia hummed as she tapped the top of Nicole’s partition before maneuvering around the group that crowded the doorway and stepping out into the hall.

The building itself wasn’t that busy, it rarely was, but campus was teeming with students as Natalia stepped outside. They typically opted for afternoon classes rather than morning ones and it was obvious that classes held after lunch were the most populated as she watched students wander from building to building. Her own undergraduate experience had been very different - classes as early in the morning as she could get them and work in the afternoons until late at night - but she understood the desire to take advantage of the opportunity.

As a graduate student, her schedule was a little different. She was usually the first one to arrive in the office, just to get a little work done, and held office hours during lunch. She was a TA for a class that met on Tuesdays and Thursday at three and had her own classes to attend, with each of the three meeting once a week, starting at six p.m. and ending at around ten. 

She was busier than she had ever been, even busier than the two years she spent working two jobs and overloading her class schedule. It was harder and lonelier than undergrad had been. She had little time to feel human or socialize without anyone outside of her program, however, she told herself that it would all be worth it when she finished and had a master’s degree under her belt.

Natalia made the most of the few minutes it took her to walk from her office to Molly’s, the closest coffee shop to campus that wasn’t the always crowded Starbucks in the library. She rarely got to enjoy her days. They were usually spent locked in the office or cooped up in the library, neither of which had enough windows. Although it was September, fall still seemed a lifetime away. 

She could still smell summer as an occasional ocean breeze wafted through campus. The sun was bright and high in the sky and the air was warm. It felt like the height of summer, as it usually did in Los Angeles, and she was grateful that she’d chosen to wear a dress instead of pants as the slight breeze kept her from overheating as she entered Molly’s.

The little coffee shop was every Instagram obsessed student’s dream. The exterior was nondescript with plain white walls and a small patio with string lights and a few small tables, however, the interior more than made up for it. There were walls covered with ivy - though Natalia didn’t know if it was real or not - and neon signs littered around the space. There was also a loft with tables and chairs that always seemed to be quieter than the rest of the shop.

It had all been too much for her the first time she visited. It seemed gimmicky, not the kind of place she wanted to frequent even if it was convenient, however, her opinion changed the moment she tried the coffee. Her predecessors in the program hadn’t been wrong in telling her that it was the best coffee she could get and that it served as a good hideout when the office got to be too much to handle. She understood why it was frequented by both students and the outside community, even if it took them too close to campus.

Although the coffee shop was bustling with students rushing in and out between classes, filled with the sounds of conversation and the excitement that came with a new school year, it still seemed quieter than the office. After ordering her iced coffee and settling into a table near the entrance, Natalia slipped her headphones back on and bit her lip in concentration as she opened her laptop and began working on the revisions she’d gotten back from her co-author.

It was difficult, not paying attention to the patrons that entered the shop as she loved people watching, but Natalia kept her eyes on her screen and typed away. If she had glanced up, she might have seen the looks that people threw one another as two men entered the shop. She might have seen how a few snuck pictures with their cellphones or how others whispered excitedly as they passed them by. But she didn’t. All she saw was the cursor on her document blink as she tried to string together a coherent sentence.

She focused on typing a new explanation for a concept she thought she’d covered well enough to need no further explanation, a metaphorical dark cloud hanging over her head as she let the reviewer’s comments weigh on her pride. However, as she got into a groove, her word count quickly climbing, she felt something cold splash against her right side.

She sat, stunned, for a few seconds, before she pulled her headphones off and blinked at the coffee that stained the right side of her dress and dripped from her skin. Ice cubes gathered in her lap, cold seeping through the fabric of her dress as she attempted to process what happened. It took a few more seconds of staring at the mess before she picked up her laptop and held it away from the growing pool of coffee. Ice cubes clattered to the floor as she stood and she grimaced as she watched them fall. She looked over the computer, sighing in relief when nothing appeared to be wet, before she lifted her head and looked at the person responsible.

Any other time, her attention would be on how beautiful the man in front of her was. He stood a head taller than her, easily, with broad shoulders and a surprised expression that she was sure matched her own. His blonde curls had fallen into his eyes, obscuring the blue slightly, and his cheeks and upturned nose were tinted pink in embarrassment as he looked over the damage he’d done.

They stared at one another for longer than necessary, his eyes lingering on her face just as hers lingered on his, and she was glad that he at least had the decency to stare at her face instead of the wet fabric clinging to her. The man beside him, slightly shorter and more amused than embarrassed, nudged his friend who moved as if he were a video that had been taken off pause.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, his words rushing together as he watched her place her laptop on a neighboring table to keep it out of harm’s way before she reached for a few napkins. “Fuck, here, let me help you with that.”

His hand bumped into hers as he reached for more napkins and began wiping at the table and, as cliche as it was, she felt a jolt of something shoot down her spine as she quickly pulled her hand away. It was easy for Natalia to ignore the feeling as she watched him make matters worse. She tried to hide it, however, she couldn’t help but grimace as she moved her bag away from the table, slipping it over her head in an effort to avoid him sweeping coffee inside it.

She shook her head at his apology and reached for another handful of napkins. “It’s okay,” she sighed, not wanting to be rude even though she knew she’d have to take time she was planning on using to write to go home and change before class, “at least it was iced coffee.” She tossed the soaked napkins into the trash and bent down to pick up the ice cubes and cup from the ground. “What happened, anyway?”

“He tripped,” the shorter, dark-haired man informed her before he took a sip of his coffee. He still looked amused, positively delighted as he watched his friend struggle to find the right words to say, and Natalia bit back a laugh as she realized everyone had a friend like him.

“I didn’t trip,” the taller man defended with a roll of his eyes, cutting his eyes at his friend before returning his attention to Natalia. He met her eyes sheepishly, the embarrassment softening his features as he explained, “Someone bumped into me on their way in and I, uh…” He trailed off, clearly having planned on saying that he tripped, and dropped his gaze to the floor as Natalia laughed.

“Tripped?” she finished, a smile on her lips despite the situation. When the taller man grimaced, bringing the hand not full of soaked napkins up to rub at the back of his neck, she laughed once more.

“Fine, I tripped,” he acknowledged, “but it wasn’t just being clumsy. Someone really did bump into me.” He gave his explanation more to his friend than to her and she wondered how often he found himself tripping over thin air. He looked solid, like he wouldn’t be the type to trip over his own two feet, but looks could be deceiving and she knew from personal experience how annoying it was to be the clumsy friend.

“It’s okay,” she assured him, a little more sincere in her assurance this time as she offered him a genuine smile. “Nothing spilled on my laptop and it wasn’t boiling so, worst case scenario was avoided. I think I’ll just not sit near the door next time, though.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good call,” he agreed. His lips were quirked in a smile, grateful that she wasn’t yelling at him, and he still held the soaked napkins in his hands. “I still feel bad, though. Can I make it up to you; buy you a coffee or something?” he asked, a hopeful lilt to her voice that told her he wasn’t just looking to make up for spilling coffee on her.

As much as it pained her to turn him down - and it hurt quite a bit as she found him to be beautiful, even in basketball shorts and a t-shirt - she didn’t have time. “That would be great,” she began, a rueful smile on her lips as she grabbed her laptop and slid it into her bag, “but I have to run. I need to go get changed before class. It’s really okay, though. No big deal.”

She didn’t miss the nudge his friend gave him and raised an eyebrow as she watched him swat at his friend’s elbow. “I, uh, how about dinner, then?” he asked, his eyes meeting hers. 

He looked so earnest, his skin still tinted pink and his eyes wide, and she felt a giddy excitement bubble in the pit of her stomach. He was gorgeous, the kind of guy she never imagined would be interested in her, and she wanted to give him a chance. She didn’t know him, didn’t know if that chance would turn into a disaster, but she found herself wanting to take that risk.

“I have class until ten tonight,” she told him, biting back a coo when his face dropped at what he assumed was her rejection, “but if you tell me your name, I think I could free up my Friday night for dinner.”

He blinked, surprised at how her sentence ended, and smiled at her. He had a unique smile, his teeth on full display and tongue pressed to the back of them, and his eyes brightened as he nodded his agreement. “Right, yeah. Luke,” he introduced, moving to offer her his hand before realizing he still held the wad of napkins. “This meeting isn’t really going that well, huh?”

“I’d say it went south when you dumped coffee on her,” the friend commented, not even bothering to hide his grin as he watched the interaction unfold before him. “All downhill from there, mate.”

“I’m Natalia,” she introduced, pointedly ignoring his friend’s comment with an amused glance in his direction. “I’ve had worse first meetings, don’t worry. My freshman year roommate opened a door on me and gave me a concussion. You just stained a dress.”

“Oddly, that makes me feel better about this, thanks,” Luke laughed as he reached out and dropped the napkins into the garbage. “Can I get your number? That way you can go change now and we can make plans later,” he clarified, smiling at her as he offered her his cellphone to put her number in.

She felt Luke’s gaze on her as she put her number into his phone and she offered him a smile as she handed the device back. “I have one request for Friday,” she told him as she grabbed her own phone from the table and grinned at the text he sent her with his name, “no tables near the entrance.” Luke laughed at her request, a sound that she found endearing, and Natalia grinned at him. “I’ll see you on Friday, then.”

“See you on Friday,” he confirmed, grinning as he watched her step around him.

Natalia and Luke maintained eye contact for a moment, each giddy and grinning as they felt the butterflies of something new on the horizon, before Natalia bumped into something solid on her way out and made a face before quickly turning to apologize. She tossed Luke a wave over her shoulder, her own cheeks burning in embarrassment, as she heard his friend mumble, “Wow, she’s perfect for you.”

As she stepped out into the world once more, she grinned at the encounter. It made her lose an hour of writing time - and ruined her favorite dress - but maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing. She’d been single for years and hadn’t had any luck with dating apps. She knew that a boyfriend wasn’t the most necessary thing in her life, however, it might be nice to be the girl with a date for once. And it certainly didn’t hurt that Luke was gorgeous.

Whatever the future held for them, she found herself looking forward to it. 

____________________________________________________

Author’s Note: If I try to start another series, someone fight me. Like, actually, genuinely fight me. I’m focusing on Rose Tattoo, These Violent Delights, and this. (And MF if I get inspiration but those updates are more sporadic, never meant to be regular, sorry. :() I want to write a few one shots but they’ll likely be shorter and just fun, you know? Not super plot heavy. I may or may not update the next chapter of this sooner than a week because this is kind of short. But, hey, I’ve got all the time in the world because after I defend next week, I’m done with grad school and that’s mildly terrifying. Anyway.  Here we go.

Tag List (like this post or message me if you want to be added!): @toolazymyguy , @irwinkitten , @jamieebabiee , @glittersluke , @spicycal , @lusbaby , @everyscarisahealingplace, @brokenvirtualheartcollector , @if-it-rains-it-pours, @blisshemmings , @calumscalm , @lovemenowseemenever , @ijustreallylovezebras , @rhiannonmichelle, @p0laroidpictures , @tomscuddles , @loverofmineluke , @harrytreatspeoplewithkindnesss , @blueviiolence , @loveroflrh , @empathycth , @luckyduckydoo , @tobefalling , @bandsandbooksaremykink , @watch-how-she-burns , @megz1985 , @wokeupinaustralia , @lucidlrh , @canterburyfiction , @cal-is-not-on-branding , @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o , @jaacknaano , @findingliam-o , @old-zeppelin-shirt , @idk-who-i-am-anymore1 , @sammyrenae68 , @flowerthug , @calumsphile , @caitdaniels, @drummerboy794 , @writingfortoomanyfandoms , @x-lover-of-mine-x , @miliefayy , @sunaaii , @canterburyfiction , @sebrox40 , @nati-nn , @opheliaaurora23 , @bitterbethany , @sunnysidesblog​ , @333-xx​

[daddy-socrates]

okay I'm curious Why did you mention salior uranus in your thesis?

THANK you for asking because i love to talk about it hehe >:3c buckle up

back in undergrad, i was invited to do a senior thesis. i wanted to do mine on language and gender because my (problematique fave) professor whose class got me into the field at the start just... wouldn't use my pronouns. she's very bad at using pronouns and frankly i think she does not understand limits. a philosophy of language class does not mean you get to just say ~whatever.~

basically, this project was borne out of "hey! use my fucking pronouns :))" i had (have) pretty severe "i can fix her" disease :// i....... was not a really great student in undergrad. people who have followed me since then can probably attest to that through my personal ramblings. my advisor (a different professor) was disappointed in me like the whole way through and i live in constant fear that she will find this blog and go "oh! thats why you didnt pay attention in class, dumbass :)" (though maybe she would see this post and say "oh.... growth :)" who's to say)

but see, though i struggled to get myself to stay engaged in my advisor's class, both she and that problematique fave had assigned texts that would lend themselves beautifully to my dream project - even though i just..... had a terrible habit of misunderstanding readings to basically an absolute inverse degree. like it's a chronic issue. maybe i should have figured out "this is what im understanding so the opposite is probably more correct." i'm working on it, though, and i'm better at getting it the second time around now that im in grad school. ^^;;

SO this brings me back to my thesis: basically, why does language matter? one of my chapters was about representation. i talked about janet in the good place reminding people every day, "not a girl." i talked about haruhi fujioka from ouran high school host club, "i don't care if people see me as a guy or a girl. it's what's on the inside that's important." i talked about stevonnie from steven universe, being the first fusion to be addressed with they/them pronouns. i talked about jesse and james from pokemon and their frequent "gender swapped" costumes. and, at last, i talked about sailor uranus - tenou haruka - using both masculine and feminine self-referential language and presentation.

the thesis statement of my tragically mediocre thesis paper is basically "when you have access to language, you can better describe your experience and understand the experiences of others." you can come to a stronger self-understanding, form connections with others who share some traits, discover community, come into support, enact change, and so on.

the paper im writing "writing" right now for my epistemology class is pretty much an elevated version of that, though i'm focusing less on gender identity and discussing like.... more like the "concept of identity" itself. one of my first grad classes was hermeneutics - the study of meaning, where it comes from and where it leads - and there is so much ~delicious~ overlap between the texts for that class, those from the undergrad class on language, the undergrad class on gender and intersectionality, and my current class. my current paper is on "epistemic injustice;" that is, lack of access to language (whether deliberately or unconsciously through systems that no single individual person had set up) puts people at disadvantage for the huge sector of life that they otherwise could understand.

ALL THIS to say, i was a snarky asshole in undergrad but i have very real investment in media representation. if i had watched she-ra before i presented my paper, i would have included double trouble (my beloved), and i have yet to watch owl house but i see there's another they/them? we love they/thems <33 i am always thinking back on when korrasami became canon, how that was a huge moment of positive bisexual representation. i think about sophia in orange is the new black, introducing to a more adult audience different layers and kinds of violences that she and other trans women, especially she as a black trans woman, are uniquely at risk for.

my graduate school thesis is going to diverge a bit from the language of justice and of personal and group understanding to an even broader scale, though i am going to have a lengthy chapter on the matter. (literally like one hour ago i emailed my county representatives to say "hey, the training material for my substitute teaching agency Fucking Sucks, how can i help bring appropriate language and subsequent recognition of mentally ill, neurodivergent, and disabled folks to the stage?")

the many forms of the philosophy of language is what sparked my passion for the field, and i want to give language to those who may have difficulty understanding texts like i do. i want to take all that i am learning and share it as best i can with others, or at the very least, use it to aid my interactions with others. that's why i have this stupid tongue-in-cheek blog in the first place! academic shitposts and some current social and political events are so important to share.

i do have a side blog for fandom shit since i wasnt smart enough to make that the main and this the side, so fan artists see @/daddy-socrates liking their posts and i am So Sorry About That but like... i don't want to take everything in life so, so, gravely seriously. OBVIOUSLY there are subjects and scenarios that are not to be joked about, but i think we get so bogged down in the severity of all the global problems that we forget to play around a bit. purposely putting a handful of anime characters into my undergrad thesis was my way of being both playful and highlighting how fun is a critical social learning tool. it may well have been the only really solid thing about that project, honestly. i hope that in the future i can revamp it, using what i have now.

so............. that was WAY more than you asked for, but there you have it, my whole raison d'être. :'^) thanks for asking, hope i made sense

[lil-outsider]

Michael Sheen is a literal angel, y’all.

Let me tell y’all a story...

First, you need to know a little bit about my year so far. In the year of our Lord, Twenty-Nine-Sheen, well, my life has really spiraled. I’m a grad student at the University of Texas at Austin in the MA in Media Studies program, and I fully intended on graduating this past May. Unfortunately, in January, mere days before the Spring semester that I was registered and ready to go for would begin, I found out that I had to have surgery. I moved all my coursework online to address the problem. Well, financial problems caused by insurance issues left that process in paperwork hell until May, and, simultaneously, my grandmother fell ill in February, and we soon learned that she had quick-onset dementia. She also became incontinent during this time. Very rapidly, she went from somewhat independent to needing care 24/7. I became her new caregiver. My schoolwork got pushed back... Well, I kept working on it, but email communication often failed me and I found myself hoping I could go back to Austin, but nothing was slowing down. In fact, things started building up. My dad started working more, and I had less time to go to my undergraduate school here at home, Texas A&M University-Texarkana, and get work done. I knew I wouldn’t graduate in May, but my dad and I had pooled our money together to pay for one more semester. We chose the summer session because it was cheaper, and we were sure that, if I was given the freedom to work, I could get things done on time.  My dad started working even more--3 people were fired from his job at the water treatment drinking water plant here in Texarkana. He was working every single day. I was trying to find any second to show up at school, and I was also very, very exhausted. 

In a particularly heavy moment of stress and impending due dates that I couldn’t foresee making, I tweeted Michael Sheen with a funny picture of my cat and some icons @Kiyye had created, and I wrote a little note about how he made me smile in these dark times. 

Now, this message definitely uplifted my spirits. My best friend, @vacationingatthepond, randomly checked Twitter while we were on the phone together, getting ready to watch Masters of Sex, and found out the news. We were both ecstatic, as she is mentioned in the original post, too. Like everyone else in this fandom, we’ve been connecting over Michael Sheen content since Good Omens, so we’ve made a nightly ritual of gushing about Michael and watching his movies/shows. We connect over this since we’re hundreds of miles apart and we miss each other a lot. When we watched Bright Young Things, I even found my chosen middle name in Michael’s character. My love for him is real, and this little note made me feel loved, too.  Well, last night, my grandmother had a bad night, so I stayed up and decided that I would make a GoFundMe page to try and earn money to pay for the Fall semester at UT-Austin. It was getting dire. Tens of thousands of dollars of loans in, and I was about to have to quit because I couldn’t pay for one more course and I hadn’t applied for FAFSA because I intended on graduating in May. I also went ahead and applied for FAFSA, but this option was really daunting, considering it would triple the cost of school AND the coursework--to get loans, you must be full-time. While I need 3 hours to graduate, I’d need 9 to meet grad school full-time status... The GoFundMe page was a last-ditch effort to secure my spot in school, and remains an effort to get me back to Austin where I can work in-person with my advisor. 

Here is the link to the gofundme, if you would like to donate or signal boost:

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-rein-graduate-utaustin-grad-school&rcid=r01-15656318453-90964e8dfd13406f&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_w

I tweeted it to Michael, along with a thank you for his sweet words to my grandmother and I. I simply requested he signal boost my GoFundMe page. Instead, y’all, he donated the entire amount. And he told nobody. He just left it there for me to find. When I came back from changing my grandmother’s diaper this morning, I had a notification from a facebook message that a friend sent that read, “You probably still don’t realize what has happened.” I had sent her a link to the page only 30 minutes before. Within 30 minutes, Michael Sheen single-handedly reached my goal of $3000 and saved my academic career. I’ve only got a little work left on my project. I will graduate now. I cannot even fully process it.  Kudos to @neil-gaiman for recognizing that Michael Sheen is actually an angel here on earth. 

He told nobody about this. He kept this entirely to himself and the small group of people I have circulated this to. He didn’t share my post or anything--he did something better; again, he just single-handedly saved my academic career. It was instant stress relief. This has been the heaviest year of my life, and he’s made it better. He’s obviously invited to my graduation! Hook ‘em!  For those that are interested, my Master’s Report will be available to the public. Here is a description I wrote for the last GoFundMe update:  “The project is designed to be accessible to academics and non-academics alike. I have chosen Prezi as the format for 3 reasons: 1. Talking about asexual Daryl Dixon is a fun topic for academics, fans, and queer folx alike; 2.  Prezi is a free, accessible service, meaning there are no gates of publication in the way of accessibility; and 3. Prezi allows academic discussion and artistic expression to co-exist for the purpose of the argument/story you want to tell. This particular presentation, "Why a 'Somewhat Asexual' Daryl Dixon is Not Enough: The Importance of Labels in Queer Media" is a particularly meaningful discussion I want to put out into the world--it is dedicated to one of my closest friends, who feels as though non-negative media representations of asexuality are few and far between. Now is the time to talk about asexuality, not as an absence, but as an equally whole and wonderful experience of existence--and a valuable piece of our society.” 

@vacationingatthepond, @everybodyownsascar, and I have been miles and miles apart, and we’re all connected daily through our love of Michael Sheen. We’ve jokingly termed the year, “Twenty-Nine-Sheen,” but he really did make my year today. Thank you, Michael. 

[uncivilengineering]

What Kind of Two Years Has it Been

At the end of an experience, and therefore a blog, I usually write a reflection on the experience. The Master's programme ended six years ago and due to life and procrastination and other excuses, I'm finishing this blog only now. But this delay has its advantages, because I know how the story ends and I can tell you what happened to the characters. So maybe, for the first time, this is truly an epilogue.

The journey to this program started in 2012. I was living in Germany and working as a consultant. I always knew I wanted to work first before continuing with any kind of education, because toward the end of undergrad, I had classes with grad students and the ones who had work experience before going back to school seemed to bring more to the experience from applying what they learned from the real world. As I researched Master's programmes, I focused my search in Europe because I was still paying off the loans for my Bachelor's degree. I Googled another program when the MIND programme turned up in the results. After a process of applying, obtaining references, phone interviews and traveling to Munich from Stuttgart to take the GRE in Germany (really), even though this is Europe, the choice came down to Humboldt University in Berlin, with a scholarship from the DAAD, and the MIND programme, with a scholarship from the European Commission. (Lappeenranta University of Technology in Finland takes a close third because I had a really, really pleasant scholarship interview with a very pleasant young man and sometimes I think about how my life might be different if I went there and studied Innovation Management instead.)

I'm sure there was a long decision process and I'm sure I spent a lot of time thinking about it, like most decisions. This all took place eight years ago and I cannot remember the salient details. But I can imagine that I felt like it was time to leave Germany, even though I love (LOVE) Berlin, and the appeal of having an adventure in two countries (I didn't yet know that Asia was on the table) was great. So I gave notice at the consulting firm, said goodbye to my friends in Stuttgart, (wrapped up my last performances as a roller skating Greek muse in the local military base's production of Xanadu - that's real) and moved to Sweden.

In the two years that ensued, I met the best people, took wild risks, had the best time, made my dreams come true and had the adventure I sought. I lived.

I lived in Sweden for a year and was inspired by their example of how to treat guests in your country. I had a job interview in a sauna in the winter and learned what gender equality in society might actually look like. After an application process, I had the opportunity to spend a semester in Thailand. In Thailand I learned how to get from the university to town (Bangkok) and back again. I hosted a cultural show that lasted for eight (or more?) hours. I felt closer to my mom than I had ever understood before. C pointed out that after the midterm exams, I have sat for exams on three continents. I celebrated my birthday at a German brewery in Bangkok. I saw Angkor Wat after the semester ended. I went to all the Disneylands in the world (at the time...back then, there were only 11 parks). I didn't stay long in Austria, but I was there long enough to experience a Buschenschank and run into visa problems. I also saw Carousel and Cabaret in German, and puzzled as to why it was an hour longer than Cabaret in English, which I saw soon after on Broadway. In Glendale I lived in a conference room turned into an ad hoc intern bullpen for four and a half months writing my thesis. I saw things I had been nearby my entire life but never dreamed of seeing in reality.

Blogs are cheesy and navel-gazey but I am glad I did it. I am glad that this and the Germany Part I blogs exist. Sometimes I will look at an old post because someone asked for a travel recommendation (for example), and I will discover something that I forgot. I didn't remember that I was contacted by Swedish public radio to talk about the 2012 United States election. I forgot I had this conversation at NASA JPL about living in Germany. So what's the moral of this paragraph? If you can't blog, at least journal. You think you will remember the exciting things that happen in your day to day life but the truth is, you won't. I am proof!

What happened to everyone? Some stayed in Europe. Some went home. Some went home in Europe. Some got married. Some had babies. Some moved to Amsterdam. Many stayed in Sweden. When I left C, she wanted to stay in Italy. She has since worked her way up to an awesome job at a major company and had a baby! A has moved and is engaged to be married! I was happy to attend C's wedding in Ankara in 2015. I was happy to attend Z's wedding in Czechia last year, and to see my friends again at both.

What happened to me? I accepted an internship in Florida where I spent about five years (and made a bunch of new friends and had a bunch of good times) before moving back to the country where I left when this all started. To be honest, I never expected to be back. Not in this country. In 2017, I was fortunate to attend my class reunion in Leiden; it was also the celebration of the closing of the program. They invited all alumni back to watch the last class graudate. I met the newest generations of the program and saw a lot of old friends. It was just like old times. I came to the first afternoon of the organized program. I thought we would observe the new kids doing their work. No. We kicked off with a case exercise and divided into groups to discuss and then present our results. Our groups consisted of current students, alumni, professors and mentors. In Europe, we are all equal. It was just like old times.

The rest of the program consisted of lectures, discussions and watching the final presentations of the graduating class. Before I left for this trip, I joked that my master programme was ending because it lost funding (truth) from the European Commission because of Brexit (also true but I didn't realize it until I got there and they confirmed that Brexit was one of the factors that cut funding to the programme). There was a party the final evening. In the way that we do. I remember telling all my friends that it would be a very long time before I will see them again. I couldn't foresee an immediate excuse to get to Europe and hang out with them. The day I returned to work in Florida from the trip, I received an email about joining a project that is based in Germany. If I chose to accept this mission, I would have to move to Germany for a period of time. What.

I learned later that, basically, someone found out that I know German. (I promise that I have other skills.) When I was in high school, if you told me I was going to move to Germany, I would have said that you're crazy. I was just this nerd who went to Space Camp and really liked The West Wing and Saturday Night Live. If you told me I was going to move to Germany twice, I would have said, "Then why did I spend all this time learning Spanish?" (among other questions) I know that's true, because I did ask myself that in the first two months of intensive language school in 2010. But the truth is, Germany made things happen for me. When I talk to young people who (for some reason) ask for my advice, in addition to telling them to "follow your dreams," I also tell them the story of how moving to Germany (the first time) changed my life. (And then I tell them why so they know I'm not exaggerating.)

I couldn't refuse. I'm back in Germany. I'm working on getting better at German.

I should have seen this coming. The fall I moved to Sweden in 2012, I came back to Germany to celebrate Thanksgiving. During my Swedish spring, the squad from Germany came to visit Sweden and I put in my tea and hairspray requests (from dm, of course). After my thesis defense in 2014, my first destination was Nuremberg to see E, then on to Quakenbrück to wait with C who was finishing her defense. I attended S's wedding in Leipzig in 2015. I went to Oktoberfest in Munich in 2016. The point is, I cannot stay away from Germany. This is evident and not a surprise.

So far, I have been fortunate that this opportunity has allowed me to meet up with so many friends. A and M are in Amsterdam and have introduced me to Y and T, who are also in the MIND network. S is back in Oslo from Thailand. A is in London. S has moved from Stuttgart to Berlin. A and P and B and K and E are in New York. I still cite the meal in Haarlem (note that's Haarlem in the Netherlands, not Harlem, but I can see why you might be confused because I just mentioned New York) as the best I've ever had and J told me that the restaurant has received a Michelin star since 2014 when we were there so now it's overpriced and overrated. So funny! At Z's wedding in Czechia last year I was happy to reconnect with A, B and M. Everyone else, I'm coming for you! (And I mean that in the creepy way!)

What's going to happen next? Let's find out! Thank you for reading and joining the adventure.

Good night, have a pleasant tomorrow and see you in the future!

Lauren

[sideofwritingsandramblings]

Day 19: One Night

For @sheithmonth prev / on ao3 / next July 19th - Teacher / Student

Shiro took another sip of his drink, smiling as he watched the bartender Lance try flirting with one of the patrons. Lance had actually been one of his students a couple years back, and now he was bartending at night while finishing his Master's program. He was an eccentric guy but Shiro admired his hard work and in recent times they’d even become friends as Shiro happened to frequent the bar.

“So, how was your sabbatical?” Lance asked when he was done flirting, “It’s been way too long Dr. Shirogane.”

“Lance please, no formalities here,” he replied smiling, “Sabbatical went well. Spent the time abroad researching at various astrophysics institutes, working on a project regarding galaxy formation and evolution. But don’t worry I’ll spare you the lecture.”

“Thank you,” Lance laughed, “Are you glad to be back?”

“Of course, I missed the area and surprisingly enough I missed teaching too.”

Lance snorted, “Let me know how long that lasts.”

Shiro laughed too and Lance eventually let him get back to his drink. Shiro didn’t often go drinking by himself but tonight he just wanted to get out of his apartment to try and reacclimate after a six month trip. He had a lot of work to do before the semester started in a month. Returning to his position as Assistant Head of the Department and dealing with the newly hired professors while planning his course schedules for the year. It was a lot to get thrown back into and it was starting to make his head spin.

The drink helped.

Just as he was about to grab his phone and check his email once again, he was distracted by the entrance of a new customer to the bar. As the door fell closed Shiro couldn’t help but stare at the man who walked in. The first thing Shiro saw was dark eyes that looked almost purple in the light, and long black hair pulled into a braid down his back. He was wearing a leather jacket, white tank top and dark jeans. He was tall and slender and beautiful, but he still looked like the kind of guy that could kick Shiro’s ass.

The man happened to glance up at him and Shiro turned away, embarrassed that he’d been caught staring. However, it was only a couple seconds later that the man came up to the bar and grabbed the seat beside him.

“Mind if I sit here?”

“Not at all,” Shiro immediately replied.

Lance came around, raising an eyebrow at Shiro but otherwise asking no questions as he took the guy’s order.

As Lance moved away Shiro asked, “New around here?”

“Yeah actually, just moved here for work. I’m Keith.”

“Shiro,” He smiled, “I recently got back into town myself.”

“Is that so?” Keith trailed off and he took a second to look Shiro up and down, “Listen, I’m not- I don’t usually do this but you’re like absolutely fucking gorgeous. My job starts tomorrow, I’m stressed as fuck, and I kind of want to suck your dick. Interested?”

Shiro felt his face flush at the forwardness, but he wasn’t going to pretend that he hadn’t been interested the moment Keith walked into the bar.

“Uh…” Shiro started, eloquent as always, “Fuck yeah.”

Keith laughed, hiding his smile in his hand, and Shiro had the urge to pull the hand away. At just that moment Lance returned with Keith’s cocktail and Shiro watched Keith pick it up and down it one go.

Lance was definitely staring at them now.

“Here,” Keith slid a $50 bill across to Lance, and pulling Shiro away from the bar, “That should cover us fine, and keep the change.”

Shiro let himself be pulled out of the bar, totally enthralled by the man leading him away. Shiro was just about to suggest they call a taxi when Keith stopped to turn towards him. Arms looped around Shiro’s neck and the next thing he knew Keith’s lithe body was pressed to his own and his lips were centimeters away from his.

“Okay?” Keith asked.

“Yeah,” Shiro whispered, almost breathless.

And then Keith leaned up and it was like electricity at the contact. Shiro’s hands went to Keith’s waist and when Keith bit at his lip he could barely hold back his groan.

“My apartment is across the street,” Keith pulled back to say, and soon enough Shiro found himself at Keith’s doorstep, crossing the threshold into a sparsely furnished apartment and kicking off their shoes.

However, Shiro wasn’t given much time to take in the decor-or lack thereof- before Keith was pulling him down the hallway and into his bedroom.

The moment they were through the door Keith pulled off his jacket, so that he was just in his thin white tank top and jeans. Shiro found his eyes drawn to Keith’s arms and let himself appreciate the muscles there.

Keith began to pull at the hem of his top as well but stopped short to shoot Shiro a heated look, “Are you just gonna stand there? Or am I gonna get to see you naked anytime soon?”

Shiro snorted, pulling off his shirt in one fluid motion, and he didn’t miss the way Keith’s eyes darkened at the sight. Keith took a step into his space, hands immediately coming up to Shiro’s chest. Shiro let him palm at his muscled pecs and he hissed as Keith dragged his hands across his nipples and down his chest.

“Are you going to take me to bed Keith?”

Keith smirked, “Absolutely.”

-

Shiro woke up in mild confusion. Not panic, but he certainly couldn’t remember at the moment why he was in a room that wasn’t his own or why he couldn’t move. He looked down to see dark hair splayed across his chest and everything came back to him in a rush.

Keith.

Fuck was he gorgeous. And last night had been… wow.

And then the panic set in when Shiro realized he had no idea what time it was.

He swore, shooting up and startling Keith awake. Shiro blindly reached over Keith for his phone that he’d thrown on the bedside table and checked the time. Six in the morning. Okay, not as late as he’d first thought. He relaxed and Keith, who had been rudely awakened beside him, shot him a glare.

“Jeez,” he grumbled, “So what time is it?”

“Sorry, it’s only six,” Shiro winced, “I thought I was late for school.”

Keith yawned, snuggling a little closer which made Shiro’s heart warm, “What? You a grad student or something?”

Shiro laughed, “No no, I’m a professor at Altea University.”

There was a beat of silence and then Keith suddenly jerked up and out of Shiro’s arms, and Shiro was caught off guard by the somewhat panicked look on his face.

“Wait Shiro- You’re not Dr. Takashi Shirogane, are you?”

Shiro’s eyes widened, suddenly feeling a bit nervous to give his answer, “Yes?”

“Oh fuck,” Keith mumbled, pulling away to sit up in the bed, “Um… I’m uh- Keith Kogane… New professor of Astronomy?”

Oh.

A new awkwardness fell between them as Shiro realized the implications. The new professor Dr. Allura had hired in his absence was one Dr. Kogane, a recent PhD graduate to replace their retired astronomy professor. However, Shiro had not had the chance to meet nor see the new hire since he’d only just returned from sabbatical.

Allura had planned to introduce them today.

“I guess,” Shiro started, sliding a hand into his hair nervously, “I should get going.”

Keith nodded, not quite meeting his eyes.

Shiro got himself together and left in record time. He had fucked up. He had slept with a fellow professor in his department and the guy hadn’t even started working yet. He opened the door to his car and slipped inside, taking a second to just sit behind the wheel and think.

And the worst part? He felt as though he’d fucked up worse by leaving.

“Shit.”

-

Four hours later Shiro sat in his office, trying to focus on his schedule planning for the upcoming semester. He had avoided meeting any other professors on his way in and he tried every possible way to distract himself from his disaster of a morning.

After he’d gotten home and taken a shower he’d been exclusively spacing out. Almost immediately upon reaching his office he had accidentally run into the side of his desk, bruising his leg and effectively spilling his coffee all over his desk. The ensuing mess had left him absolutely irritated at himself for ruining papers and wasting his own time. He was at least thankful that no books or one of a kind documents had been in the crossfire.

The sound of Allura’s voice and a knock at his door pulled his attention away. He sighed, perhaps if he let Allura know of his predicament now, he could figure out what to do.

“Come in,” he called.

When the door opened, what Shiro didn’t expect was Allura to lead Keith in with her, “Dr. Shirogane, I’d like you to meet our new professor of Astronomy, Dr. Keith Kogane.”

Shiro stood and got out from behind his desk. Keith wouldn’t quite meet his eye.

“It’s an honor to meet you Dr. Kogane, Allura has told me a lot about you and your qualifications. I’m sure you will be an incredible asset to this department,” Shiro held out his hand, “And please, no need for formalities, you can call me Shiro if you’d like.”

Keith took his hand, “Keith is fine.”

“Keith, Shiro is Assistant Head of the Department,” Allura continued, “If you ever have any issues and I’m not available, Shiro’s your guy. He’s probably the smartest and sweetest guy we have in the department.”

“But not as smart and sweet as you princess,” Shiro replied to which Allura elbowed him in the side.

“Don’t princess me, Shirogane,” Allura rolled her eyes and giving a laboring sigh, “I dress up as a princess for our Halloween party one time… Anyways, Shiro I’m going to go grab Coran from his lab so that he can properly meet Keith as well. I’ll be right back.”

And then suddenly they were alone once again.

“I’ll uh- wait in the hall,” Keith said and turned to leave.

Shiro said nothing, heart sinking as he watched him go. That is until he saw an unmistakable bruise on Keith’s neck.

“Keith uh-”

“Yeah?” Keith asked, turning towards him.

Shiro blushed, stammering, “Um- I am so sorry but I um… I kind of left a mark on your neck.”

“What?” Keith hissed, his hand quickly coming up to cover the back of his neck, “Shit.”

“Here I have some…” Shiro trailed off, walking around to open his desk and rifle through for the concealer he had on hand, “It won’t cover it completely but... between this and if you pull your braid down it shouldn’t be noticeable.”

“Can you help?” Keith asked and Shiro nodded.

Keith turned once again and Shiro walked up behind him and moving his hair out of the way. Keith’s hair was soft even in the braid.

“What are you 16?” Keith grumbled, as Shiro applied the makeup, “Leaving hickeys like that. I even told you I had work today.”

“Sorry,” Shiro paused, “And no not 16, I’m actually seven.”

“Excuse me?”

“Leap year,” Shiro laughed.

Keith snorted, covering his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“There,” Shiro said, moving Keith’s braid to cover the affected area, so that it now lay down Keith’s right shoulder, “Completely hidden.”

“Thanks,” Keith shot him a smile.

“Don’t mention it, especially since it was kind of my fault in the first place.”

“True,” Keith stopped, seeming to take a moment to consider something, “Last night… I actually really enjoyed myself.”

“I did too.”

Keith met his eyes again, “So what’s the policy on workplace dating, huh?”

“Not too harsh I’m sure,” Shiro replied easily.

Keith smiled and took a step into Shiro’s space, making his stomach flutter.

“Good,” Keith said, leaning up to press a quick kiss to Shiro’s lips.

“Text me later,” Keith said, walking towards the door.

“But I don’t have your-”

“Yes you do!” Keith laughed as he left the room.

Shiro took his phone out of his pocket and sure enough, as he scrolled down his contact list, Keith Kogane’s number had been added. There was also a picture uploaded for it, a selfie Keith had taken with his phone while Shiro had been asleep.

Shiro laughed and sent a text.

You free this evening?

[cancerbiophd]

Hi Julia! Sorry if this seems like a lot, but I hope you don't mind me asking. To contextualize: I’m about to graduate with a BA in Bio! I was initially pre-med for ~3 years of undergrad, but I realized I didn't have a strong interest in being an MD. Bc of multiple reasons (in part, a lot of anxiety), I hadn't gotten much extracurricular/lab experience in that time. After tons of (painful :() introspection, I want to go for a grad program after my gap year - (1/3)

but I wasn’t able to get into a lab this year (bc 4th yr, yk? :(). The most “lab” experience I’d gotten was taking some upper level Bio classes. I’m worried about my chances of even landing a lab tech (or related) position to get experience before the next application cycle. I could take multiple gap years, but I’m not sure if I’ll have stable housing or be able to find a job in my hometown. If it’s worth mentioning, I’ve been a TA for a lab course, done some work as a grader, and have GREATLY improved my grades, but compared to my peers it feels like… not much. The profs I’m close with seem to think I’ll still be just fine, but people advise doing much more than I did (which is completely understandable). I guess I’m just stuck and frustrated w/ myself that I hadn’t done anything sooner. Do you have any advice on how to move from here? Thank you so much! 

Hi anon!!! 

Firstly, I want to congratulate you on graduating!!! (they really should just combine the words and make it “Congraduations!” lol anyway) no but seriously, you got a BA to your name now!! Feels good yall. 

Secondly, I was in the same! exact! boat! omg. you sure you’re not me from like 8 years ago? Because I also went into undergrad focused on pre-med, decided nope not for me, realized I wanted to go into grad school, but didn’t have a lot of lab experience (bc I had no idea where to start or what to do). I managed to squeeze in 1 semester of volunteering in a lab before graduating, but I knew that really wasn’t enough. It then took me 5 tedious months of searching before I landed a lab tech job that gave me the experience I needed (and also guided me towards my current field of cancer bio). 

Just like you I was super bummed that I didn’t discover sooner in my college career what the right path was, but I was elated that I at least did discover the right path. What’s that one saying... the best time to plant a tree was 10 years ago; the next best time to plant a tree is today. So take a deep breath, get back up, and tell that little voice in your head that you don’t have the time and energy to feel frustrated because this is the beginning of a new chapter, and you are gonna work hard for it, starting today! 

Keep up the search for an entry-level position at a research lab (such as a lab tech). Along with checking the regular job posting sites (like Craigslist and Monster), also look for temp agencies, and seek out newly established labs (eg. PIs who just moved to your local research univ– they’ll be needing a lab tech real bad and they probably have boat-loads of money as a new recruit. That’s how I found my lab tech job). 

Here’s a post I made regarding cold-emailing PIs to see if they’re hiring (and not all of them post positions online; sometimes they find the person they want to hire first, and then post the position to make it official with the university. Something to keep in mind!)

Here’s a masterpost of links to job websites specifically for scientists (hopefully the links still work; I haven’t checked in a while)

Another option, if you’re up for it, could be to move to a different location that would have more job opportunities for your field. For example, Seattle and California are some hotspots for biotech. Recently there was one cancer immunotherapy start-up in Seattle that was hiring 50 scientist positions at once. Check out Boston University’s Biomedical Workforce Data Report to see where the potential hotspots are in the US.

You can also acquire other related non-lab (but still paid) experiences, such as becoming a biology tutor and freelance science writer. 

Utilize your network. Ask your friends, family, past professors, college alumni, etc if they know of anyone working at a place that could hire you. Someone could know someone who knows someone! Before I landed my lab tech job, a friend of a friend of my mom’s had offered me an internship position at her research institution in Florida. 

If your goal is a PhD, you can consider doing a Masters first to gain more experience. I know many colleagues in the life sciences who did a Masters first as a “stepping stone” towards their PhD, and typically Masters programs are more lenient on requiring lots of lab experience. I have a post here about the pros and cons of doing a Masters before a PhD (US centric). 

Other things that can ramp up your application include acing the GRE (general) and GRE Biology Subject Test (if that’s the grad field you want to pursue). I know of one student in our pharmacology/toxicology PhD program who had very little lab experience but still got in because one PI in particular was super impressed with his perfect GRE score. Some really amazing letters of rec and a killer personal statement will also help.

I hope that helps a bit. I’m always here to chat if you have other questions or just need someone :) I’ve definitely been in your same exact boat, so I know what you’re going through. It wasn’t easy or fun in the slightest bit, but I got through it, and I know you can too

[tintriestotell]

Pagkatapos kong sumablay

It has been over a year since graduation and a lot has happened since. As my gap year comes to an end, here’s my (poor) attempt to string words together on how it went.

So, what happened after I transferred the sablay from my right shoulder to the left?

I looked around and saw wide, genuine smiles from my batch mates. It was a great run with you, PH 2013. Here’s to serving more communities, always in all ways.

I looked for my parents and I was happy to see them proud. (Yes, Ma. I saw you wipe that tear.) After the ceremony, my dad had his hands full with five bouquets, one for me and for each of my college best friends. (Thanks, Daddy.) All that followed were greetings, hugs, some tears, photos everywhere.

And then, I went home – to the people I considered family for four years in the university. The remaining days were filled with graduation parties, celebrations, beach trips, getaways, all before we had to go our separate ways. [s/o ASS(S)U]

And then, I went home – to South Cotabato. I was welcomed with open arms by my family. I went to every family gathering I could go to, to make up for all the times I wasn’t able to attend because I was in Iloilo. I swear, every birthday, debut, anniversary, wedding. Tangina, you name it, I was there.

Of course, there were –

Hugs and handshakes

“Congrats” and “so proud of you’s”

But, I wasn’t saved from all the –

Graduate ka na, kelan ka magtatrabaho?

Si *name*, hindi nga UP pero may trabaho agad

Abi ko mag-med ka?

Truthfully, I went home – to explore what Public Health has to offer. There were opportunities too great, too hard to say no to, but, unfortunately, too far from home, so I had to let them go. I was set to find work in SC so I could be closer to my family. My patience was tested as I waited in line at job fairs, applied for clerical positions, sent a ton of emails, only to get rejected because of various reasons.

Wala abi position para sa field mo, sorry.

We need experience.

Hija, we have an age requirement.

Kailangan kasi may lisensya ka para sa job na ‘to.  

So, I went home – to the friends I’ve had since childhood. I had all the time to catch up with them, and celebrations were in order.

Sleepovers!

Dinner outs!

Road trips!

But, the hype... well, it’s not always there.

From celebratory toasts to drinking the pressure away

From graduation speeches to drunk conversations of what to do next

From excited phone calls at 7am to breaking down at 2am

So, every time I went home – to our small town, to the familiar comfort of our house and the people in it, I wanted rest. It felt really great to be with the ones I love most for 24 hours in a day/7 days a week, but at the same time quite weird.

/Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think it’s safe to say that I share the same sentiments with those who’ve went away for some time and went back home/

I’ve lived alone for the past four years and it has taught me to be more independent. So when I went back home, it felt unsettling that I was always being tended to, always being asked on how I was doing, and always, always being around people. How weird and at the same time wonderful, to be asked what I wanted to eat for breakfast, and to wake up and actually have breakfast on the table. I wanted rest, and I got it. But, going back home also meant going back to responsibilities, obligations, and expectations.  

Hatid/sundo mo muna..

Duty ka anay palihog kay kulang staff

Ihabol pasa ang permits

Bakit ka pala hindi nag-engineer?  

:)

For quite some time, I think my parents were worried about me, along with everything that has been going on. They were wary when I told them about my change of plans during my last year in college, my decision to go back home after graduating, my constant search for something I don’t even know.  I questioned my choices, reflected on my relationships with the people around me, and dreaded each passing day that I doubted myself.  

Three months after graduation, I was still unemployed. Now, it might sound so petty complaining about this, but I know that I wanted to work – to serve back. I was scared; it felt like I was losing time. By then, I was starting to realize that maybe I was meant to focus somewhere else – study for an upcoming exam, help my parents out, rest. So that’s what I did– duty in the day, read concepts at night. I made plans with friends and family for the remaining months, booked plane tickets, planned trips, prepared documents, etc. It was already October, and I was driving around SC, going into offices, meeting people, passing permits, when I got a call.

“Are you employed? If not, drop by the Provincial Health Office. DOH has something for you.”

And when I thought everything was falling apart, it was actually falling into place. I was happy and scared at the same time, I felt like I was going to burst. After a serious talk with my parents, I visited the Rural Health Unit, signed the contract and started first thing Monday.

So technically, I went home – to a new one, welcomed by a new family. I was deployed in another municipality’s rural health unit.

Evaluations and presentations

Fieldwork and local health board meetings

My childhood dream is to be a doctor and admittedly, I took BS in Public Health as my pre-med course. When I was choosing which course to take for college, I realized that every course would be hard, so I might as well take one close to my heart. I remember during our first year orientation, one of our professors told us that PH is not a pre-med course. But, four years in BSPH and I knew I made the right choice. Being in UP opened my eyes to society’s realities, most especially in our healthcare. This journey led me to advocacies and opportunities that strengthened the want and need to keep PHighting for the cause. I postponed my med school plans to know more about the system firsthand. No words can ever describe how thankful I was for the opportunity that DOH-HRH gave.

I came across this quote by Mahatma Gandhi, it stated: “The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.” I came to realize that this rang true.

However, just when I was starting to get to know the personnel and other health staff, just starting to get the hang of the job, when a whole new plot twist came my way.  

Apparently, my parents wanted me to take the licensure exam. I was hesitant, of course because I was not sure if I could pass. At the same time, NMAT results were out and I needed to apply to medical schools. Some had really early deadlines. I was stuck in SC and cannot personally process my documents.  My parents were bothered because we barely see each other in the house. My friends are always offering to have dinner or drive me to work and I appreciate their concern. I was juggling doing everything in my gap year that I guess it was taking a toll on me.

“Unsa man ning bataa nga ni uy, dili ka kabalo mupahuway?”

“Kath, mata mo ay, dalom na gid.”

“Uso matulog, girl.”

I was supposed to renew my contract with DOH, when my parents brought up MTLE again. It was January, and local review centers didn’t accept students anymore since the licensure exam is already on March. This was a very hard decision for me to make, but when I found a review center that opened a last section, I took the risk.

For a while, I had to go MIA – deactivated Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, the usual. Only a handful of people knew about my whereabouts. I was trying to avoid the weight, the pressure of people knowing that I was studying for the boards. As a PH grad, it was harder for me to study the Med Tech subjects. My review classmates were re-viewing the concepts while I was still just learning them. And I know studying in college was hard, but the pressure that MTLE puts on you, grabe beh. Iba. Di ako makatulog. There were assessment exams, simulated exams; I was having a difficult time processing everything because I can’t even reach the review center’s passing rate. At the same time, I was processing my med school applications, going into interviews, changing review schedules so I can work my way around both.

A few days before the MTLE, medical schools started to release the results for qualified applicants. I remember how happy I was to receive emails and see my name on lists. It was the push that I needed to get through. It felt like a thorn was removed from my chest.

During MTLE, believe it or not, I fell asleep during the second subject. Honestly, it was *that* difficult and I was uncertain if I could still pass. The next few days felt like torture as we waited for the results. But things started looking up when I got a call from my best friend, greeting me with “hello, RMT”  Legit one of the happiest moments of my life.

And then, I went home – back to SC where I celebrated the victory with my family and friends.  I got to visit the RHU and I remember how heartwarming it felt when they told me they were proud of me. I spent time with my family again, celebrated my dad’s 50th. My gap year was slowly coming to an end.

I went home – to UP. I can’t help but feel sentimental when I got my diploma. I personally thanked my professors for their recommendation letters, dropped by the laboratories to say hi to the staff, took photos with Oble, and walked around campus. Masaya akong pinaglaban kita, UP. Masaya akong pinili kita, PH.

It was already June when I’ve finally decided on which medical school to go to. If you asked me this time last year, I never would have imagined myself here. Let’s just say that PH reeled me in. July was filled with transition from gap year to medicine proper. I’ve traded seascapes and mountains for cityscapes and skylines. It’s something new, yet something familiar, too.

In the past year, I got to catch sunrises and chase sunsets, let myself get lost, crossed oceans, trekked mountains, met people, got to know myself more, and followed my internal compass that was pointing north. I may have taken the long way home, and the route is not always the scenic one, but it sure was worth it. I’m still scared of what the future holds, but I learned that things may not always go my way, and that’s okay.

This year, ahh this year, taught me that plans may change, but the goal remains the same.  

And now, I’m going to medical school. This will be my home for the next few years, whether I like it or not. It’s funny how this universe works, but I’m happy that the road still led me to you, Public Health. Thank you for your warm welcome, ASMPH. Let’s #23iumphAsOne.

Malayong lupain, amin mang marating, di rin magbabago ang damdamin.

No matter where I go, I will never forget the lessons I learned from you, UP.  You were there when my eyes were opened, when my heart was changing skin. You taught me that we are only able to achieve great things because we take risks.  We are aware of the possibility that we might fail to achieve what we set out to do, but we do it anyway. You taught me that life may knock you down, and you will hit rock bottom. When that happens, the only way is up.

Pagkatapos kong sumablay, dama ko ang saya at pasa ko rin ang bigat na nasa balikat ko. The sablay is something we wear with pride, but at the same time, humility. It’s an achievement, and also a reminder of our responsibility to serve the people.

Pagsilbihan ang taong bayan, sa kahit anong paraan, sa kahit anong larangan.

[braincoins]

Title: Learn By Heart Fandom: “Voltron: Legendary Defender” Summary: It's Allura's first semester teaching, and she's prepared for anything ...except Takashi Shirogane. Ships: Shallura Warnings: N/A Author’s Notes: This is for my @shalluraexchange giftee, @zsyree! I hope you like it even if it wasn't your first-choice prompt.

They're not supposed to be at any particular college/university, but this is me, and I write what I know. What I know is Indiana University Bloomington. So to any IU alumni or students out there, some of this should be familiar.

Before anyone asks - they're the same age. (I even have her say it in the fic.) How is that possible? Welllll, she went to college right after high school, while he enrolled in the Air Force. She's completed her undergrad courses and is just starting her graduate career, and, as such, has been press-ganged by her advisor into teaching. Meanwhile, he's taken a few college-level courses as part of his advancement in the USAF, but he's otherwise been preoccupied with his tours of duty. Then he was injured and he needed time to heal, recover, get the prosthetic and then get used to it. This is his first time in a formal higher education setting.

Fic below the cut (3,600 words - also on AO3)

           Allura was logging into the classroom’s computer when she heard a polite, “Excuse me?” from behind her.

           She turned towards the smoothly masculine voice and smiled pleasantly even as her stomach flopped. Standing before her was a handsome young man, her age or maybe a little older, with a shock of white hair, a scar across his nose (just under warm, dark eyes), and an easygoing smile. Broad shoulders and chest… she made herself stop and look him in the eye. Remain professional, she chided herself. Aside from the black turtleneck he was wearing, he looked like a military recruitment poster come to life.

           “You’re Professor Smythe?”

           Her smile widened a little at how surprised he sounded. “I am Ms. Fala,” she corrected. “I’m one of Professor Smythe’s grad students. I’m teaching this section. Can I help you?”

           His gaze had been drifting a bit south and he cleared his throat and straightened up again. Well, at least I’m not the only one who likes what they see. “I’m Takashi Shirogane. I was told to give you this when I arrived.” He held out a piece of paper and when she looked down to take it, she realized almost immediately what it was. Not because of the paper, which was neatly folded in half, but because where his right hand should have been was a jet black mechanical prosthetic.

           She accepted the paper and unfolded it and, sure enough, it was a notice of need for accommodation. She read it and nodded. “All in order. Do you need this back?”

           “Yes, please. I have to show it to all my teachers.” She handed it back to him and he thanked her quietly as he tucked it back into his jeans pocket.

           “What sort of accommodation do you require?”

           “Not much. I just need to sit front and center with my laptop and mic. It’s not a big setup; it shouldn’t be in anyone else’s way. I can use a mouse pretty well but I can’t really type fast enough to keep up, so I’ve got a speech-to-text program set up to take notes on what you say. I also have a notebook for jotting things down the old-fashioned way, but I’m still getting used to the new hand, and I want to make sure I don’t miss anything important.”

           She nodded and gestured to the still empty front row. “I would suggest sitting here, actually, rather than in the center. I spend most of my time at the computer podium or very near it. Also, I do upload my PowerPoints at the end of each class, so you can access those online.”

           His smile widened. “Great, thank you. That’s a big help.”

           “Do you need a plug? There are several free ones on the podium.”

           “Oh, I’ve got plenty of charge, but if it’s not too much of a bother…”

           “No bother at all, Mr. Shirogane.”

           “My friends all call me Shiro.”

           She cleared her throat. “Get your things set up, Mr. Shirogane,” she said pleasantly. Unfortunately, you’re a student, so you’re going to have to stay “Mr. Shirogane.” That was a disappointment, but hey, at least she’d have a nice view during class. STOP THAT. Stop objectifying one of your students. “There’s a plug right here you can use,” she said, indicating one on the back of the podium.

           “Thank you, Ms. Fala.” And he went to his seat, already slinging his backpack off to get it open.

           She resumed setting up her “first day of class” slides and tried to keep her thoughts professional and on the topic of Comparative Politics.

           The first class was standard and boring – talking about the curriculum, where to find the syllabus and PowerPoints online, her grading scale, etc. It was a first-year introductory class, and most of these students were just taking it for the necessary “Breadth of Inquiry” credits that the university required. Still, if she could turn even one of them into a poli-sci major, she’d count that as a huge victory. But ultimately, her job was to relay the required material to them, go over their papers, and compile their grades.

           Still, for a boring introductory class on a basic topic, she found Mr. Shirogane alert and attentive. The small microphone clipped to the lid of his laptop was unobtrusive. While other students were barely staying awake, he hand-wrote the URLs, her college-affiliated email address, and her office hour times down in his notebook and never once looked bored.

           She let them out early (promising them they were unlikely to get this consideration for the rest of the semester) and began the process of logging off and shutting down. Due to his extra preparations, Mr. Shirogane was quickly the only one left in the room with her.

           “Well, it should be an interesting class,” he said conversationally as he started unplugging everything and packing it up.

           “I appreciate your interest, but don’t get your hopes up,” she warned with a light chuckle. Be careful not to flirt, she reminded herself.

           “I’m not. I’m genuinely looking forward to it.”

           “Are you going to major in political science?” she asked.

           He shook his head. “Minor. Well, double minor: this and history.”

           Her eyebrows went up. Not quite a major, but at least he has a definite interest in the subject instead of just taking it as something to get out of the way. “Very nice. Do you have a major in mind?”

           He nodded. “Double major: physics and astronomy.”

           “Double major AND double minor?” She whistled quietly at the mere thought of the workload for that. “Well, you’re not afraid of hard work, that’s for sure. And physics/astronomy with poli-sci/history? Unusual choice.”

           He shrugged. “Well, I want to be an astronaut, so that kind of dictates my majors. There are a few other options, but those were the ones that were most interesting to me. I can pretty much do what I want with my minors, and I thought it’d be nice to diverge a bit, indulge some of my other interests.”

           “An astronaut?” She blinked.

           His smile thinned. “I know, but just because I lost my hand doesn’t mean I can’t…”

           “Oh, no!” She rushed to reassure him. “I wasn’t… that’s not…!” She cleared her throat. “Of course you can. I was just surprised that I have a future astronaut in my class, that’s all.”

           His smile turned apologetic. “Sorry. I’m used to people thinking I’m,” he looked down at his right hand, which closed up into a loose fist, “broken. Like I can’t do anything like that anymore. Everyone talks like I have to give up the dream I’ve had since I was a kid, just because of the hand.”

           “So, it’s… recent then?” She realized what she was asking and cursed at herself mentally. “Not that you need to talk about it; I shouldn’t pry.”

           He shrugged. “It’s okay. I lost it a year and a half ago. Afghanistan.”

           “Oh, you’re in the military?”

           He started to nod and then caught himself. “Well, I was. Air Force.”

           “Thank you for your service…” She paused. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your rank.”

           “I was a Staff Sergeant, but you don’t have to call me that. Medical discharge and all that.” He waved his prosthetic hand. “Finally getting back into the world. I generally prefer Shiro or Takashi to ‘Sergeant Shirogane’ all the time.”

           She cleared her throat. “Well, Mr. Shirogane, I’ll see you in class again on Wednesday, yes?”

           “Bright and early!” he confirmed. “Did you lose a bet to get the 9 AM class?”

           She smirked. “I’m the newest grad student, so I had little choice. And you can’t really complain; you signed up for this section.”

           “Well, technically, yes, but it was the only one that still had available seats.” They both laughed and he swung his backpack onto his back again. “See you, Wednesday, Ms. Fala.”

           She watched him go, chided herself for ogling him again (I’m not sure how jeans that tight can be comfortable, but bless him for wearing them anyway), and grabbed her things. She had her own coursework to see to, after all.

 *****

             Coran set aside the work she’d handed him on her thesis. “So, how’s your first semester of teaching going, Allura?”

           She barely caught her smile from slipping. “Fine.”

           He arched an eyebrow at her. “You know I can tell when you’re lying to me.”

           “No, really, it’s going as well as could be expected, it’s just…” She chewed on her lower lip.

           He reached over his desk to pat her hand. “Students can be rough, especially on a new teacher. They can smell it, like sharks smelling blood. We’re nearly to midterms; I know it’s probably getting stressful.”

           “No, it’s… well, I mean, it is, but not because of that. It’s just,” she took a deep breath, “I think I’m going to need you to grade one of my students’ work from now on. Just the one!” she added quickly. “I know you’re busy and I’m asking a lot of you, but it’s really just the one, and he’s honestly one of the best students, so…”

           “Allura, slow down!” Her advisor was clearly confused. “If he’s one of the best students, why are you trying to pawn his work off on me?”

           She looked away. “It’s… um…” She risked a look back at him.

           Professor Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe had a single eyebrow arched and the most “Well?” face she’d ever seen. (The mustache helped.)

           She sighed and looked down at her hands in her lap. “I am developing an inappropriate attraction. Even though I’m not acting on it, I feel like my ability to grade his work objectively could be called into question.”

           “Oh. Yes, that is a pickle. And you’re not acting on this attraction at all, correct?”

           She nodded. “I’m very careful, honestly. The only times we’re alone together are just before and after class, and only for a few minutes each time. Well, and sometimes office hours, but they’re entirely professional!”

           “He comes to your office hours?”

           “Well, so do some of the other students,” she pointed out.

           “And comes early and stays late? For a 9 AM class?”

           She cleared her throat. “He has a prosthetic hand. He needs the extra time to set up his computer and software and to pack it all up again. And when he comes to office hours, it’s usually because his speech-to-text program misheard some of my words and he needs clarification for what they’re supposed to be. It’s all entirely professional!” She realized she was sounding defensive (and repeating herself wasn’t helping), so she shut up, feeling ashamed of herself. My first semester teaching and something like this happens.

           Coran just nodded. “You’re doing everything right then. That’s fine. I’ll grade his work for the rest of the semester, just to be safe.”

           She sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

           But then he leaned forward and asked, dropping his voice conspiratorially, “So, how bad is it?”

           She blinked. “What, his work? It’s not bad at all, he’s working towards a minor, so he’s actually interested in the subject matter and…”

           “No, no, not that. How bad is this crush of yours?”

           “Coran.”

           “I’m just going to be an insufferable git until you tell me,” he pointed out.

           She groaned and flopped back in her chair, tilting her head up to look at the ceiling. “His smile makes my heart stop, my stomach flip, and my knees weak.”

           “Oh ho! That is bad!” He was enjoying this.

           “And he sits right in front of me. He has to, because of the speech-to-text. He can type, but not fast enough to take good notes. So he’s right there all the time, and he’s always paying full attention to me and the lecture, and …”

           “Handsome?”

           “Extremely,” she confirmed. She lowered her head to look at Coran again. “He was in the Air Force! He wants to be an astronaut! He’s only a few months older than I am. He’s strong and brave and charming and I may die if he wears that one sweater to class again.” She dropped her head into her hands. “Don’t even get me started on my inappropriate staring as he walks out of the classroom.”

           Coran guffawed. “Well, the rules are no fraternizing with students, but nothing wrong with looking! You can’t help who you’re attracted to.”

           “You’re not helping,” she muttered through her hands.

           “Well, I’m helping by grading his work for you,” he pointed out. “Courage. The semester won’t last forever, even if it seems like it will.”

           She lifted her head. “But then I won’t see him again at all.”

           Coran tsked at her. “Midterms really must be stressing you out. You’re overlooking the obvious.”

           She frowned at him, brow furrowing. “What?”

           He shook a finger at her. “You’re a bright girl – one of the best grad students I’ve got – you’ll figure it out! In the meantime, send me the astronaut’s work. We’ll see if it’s truly ‘out of this world.’” He chuckled, clearly pleased at himself.

           She groaned again as she stood. “Can you try to write any comments legibly? I’m beginning to believe the campus rumors that the anthropology department tricks their students into trying to decipher your handwriting as if it were some long-lost ancient script.”

           “I make no promises,” he declared loftily.

 *****

             “Mr. Shirogane!” she called after him when she saw him in the student union. She hurried up to him and smiled as he turned. “I’m glad I found you.”

           “Ms. Fala,” he greeted her. His smile was warm, as always, and elicited that now-familiar feeling of happy sickness within her. But his smile faltered a little. “Is something wrong?”

           “No!” She cleared her throat and tried to calm herself down. “No, nothing at all.”

           He let out a sigh of relief. “I was worried that there was a problem with my test or my essay or something.”

           “No, it’s not about that. Can we talk somewhere a little… quieter?” They were by Sugar ‘n’ Spice – one of the main coffee hubs in the union – and the hallway by it was half-filled with people waiting in line for a hot beverage.

           It was full-on winter now, and students had been hiding their increasing finals-induced stress under hats and scarves and bulky coats. Mr. Shirogane had a black-and-purple beanie, black gloves, and the sort of coat she imagined Arctic explorers would wear to find the North Pole. Or, well, models would wear to give the impression they were exploring the Arctic. Maybe that was just her impression of all of his clothes.

           He nodded and looked around. “Um…”

           “If you don’t mind the cold, we could go outside?”

           He snorted. “Well, it will be much less crowded.” He gestured grandly. “After you.”

           She headed downstairs and ducked out into a tiny courtyard off a seating area. She liked coming here in warmer weather, enjoying the relative peace and quiet of the usually-unnoticed outdoor spot. It offered some nice benches and a lovely little sculpture, all of it surrounded by ivy-covered walls, with an old, high, wrought iron gate leading to stairs going up to the main street level. It was bitterly cold, so naturally no one was out here. It was also rather dark; this late in the year, it got dark so early, and with the courtyard’s relatively low position, it was already well-hidden from what sunlight there was left to them. The union’s exterior lights were already on, so she could still easily see his curious expression as she turned to face him.

           “So, there was nothing wrong with my final?” he asked.

           “You did fine. In fact, I just finished submitting all the grades for the class.”

           He arched an eyebrow. “You submitted my final grade or Professor Smythe did?”

           She fidgeted. “I submitted all the grades except yours, but Professor Smythe has submitted yours, yes.”

           “Can I ask why I seem to be the only one in class who has to put up with his handwriting?”

           She couldn’t help laughing at that, and it took her a moment to pull herself back together. “Well, if you had asked me before now, I would have told you that it was because I wanted him to see your work.”

           He studied her. “Okay. So what’s the real reason?”

           “It’s not a lie. I did want him to see it. You’re a very thoughtful and dedicated student. I can tell you’ve been giving this class a hundred and ten percent, and I appreciate it. So it’s not a lie, but it’s also not the entire truth.” She cleared her throat and tried to keep herself from fidgeting out of nervousness. “I had to turn your work over to someone else to grade. Someone who could be objective.”

           Both of his eyebrows went up. “You… Why couldn’t you be objective?” His voice sounded hushed.

           She bit her lip, then made herself stop that. C’mon. You rehearsed this about a thousand times. You can do this. “I…” You have to do this. “As incredibly unprofessional as it is to say, when I first found out you were my student, I was terribly disappointed.”

           He looked like he’d been slapped.

           That spurred her on (and also made her speak a bit quicker, sound less smooth and steady than she’d hoped). “Not because of…! Because you were so handsome!”

           That transmuted the wounded look into stunned silence. She made herself take a deep breath before continuing.

           “I thought it would be okay. There are a lot of very attractive people on campus, and I’ve always handled things well. I thought things would be the same with you. But they weren’t. They haven’t been, ever. My attraction to you only got worse as I got to know you. So, I turned your work over to Professor Smythe, because it was too hard to view your work objectively.”

           He blinked and, after a moment’s consideration, asked, “Is that why the professor always sat in on class on days I had to do oral presentations?”

           She nodded and stopped herself from fidgeting again. “Exactly. I would never have been able to give you a proper grade on your work. You have a very nice voice and you use it well.” She blushed. “That sounds terrible out of context, but… your delivery is good, and you have such a deep interest in the subject… Oh heavens, it’s just getting worse!” She cleared her throat. “He had to be the one to grade your presentations, is my point.”

           He readjusted the straps of his backpack. “So, you’re… um… telling me this now because…?”

           “Because soon I won’t be your teacher any more. And I was hoping that we could go out, get some pizza and beer, just talk.”

           “About us?”

           Her blush was getting worse, she could feel it. “About us, about one another, about… about anything. I love our little chats before and after class. I always want more time to just talk with you.”

           He just stood there, looking at her. She wanted to scream, but she held it in, trying not to look as anxious as she felt. Then he held out his forearm to her. “Pinch me?”

           She blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

           “Pinch me, because I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming this.”

           She laughed. “I am not going to pinch you!”

           “Why not?” he demanded.

           “Well, for one thing, that’s your right arm; I can’t really make much of a dent in that.”

           He huffed at himself and withdrew the arm. “Sorry, I still forget sometimes.”

           “And, for another, I doubt you’d feel it much through that thick coat anyway.”

           “I’m pretty sure you could do some damage if you really wanted to.”

           “Which brings me to my final point: I don’t want to hurt you!”

           “You really want to go out with me?” he asked, dropping the levity.

           She smiled and nodded. “Ever since I first saw you. Having you sit right in front of me all semester has been driving me mad.”

           “I’d like that. Uh, when you’re not my teacher anymore. Speaking of which, when will that be?”

           “Well, the grades for the class are submitted, so I will officially no longer be your teacher at 6 PM.”

           “What time is it now?” he asked immediately.

           A deep gong from the campus clock tower began declaring the hour. Allura silently counted out the booming chimes until the 6th one sounded and the clock tower’s bells fell into silence again.

           A wide grin split his face. “So. Pizza & beer then?”

           She nodded. “Sounds wonderful.”

           “And, just so we’re on even footing, I have to tell you, I’ve never been one for those ‘hot for teacher’ type scenarios until I met you.”

           Her blush cranked to full volume as she laughed. “And here I was going to tell you how charming you were.”

           Unexpectedly, he reached out and took her hand in his right. He lifted it to his lips to kiss the back of her …well, glove. “You’re the most beautiful and intelligent woman I’ve ever met,” he told her.

           “Okay, you can have your ‘charming’ title back. C’mon, I’m starved, and getting a seat at Mother Bear’s is going to be madness.” She grabbed hold of his hand and tugged him towards the gate.

           “I don’t mind waiting for a table.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “More time to spend with you, Ms.. uh..” He laughed.

           She joined in. “You can call me ‘Allura’ now, Shiro.”