#also i DID take a class with him in the summer with the workers circle and he has the affect of...idk a gaon or sth

[mashkaroom]

literally thank you dovid katz for putting everything you’ve ever published online

(https://www.dovidkatz.net/dovid/dovid_bibliography.htm -- his bibliography arranged by date here

https://www.dovidkatz.net/ -- and more of his stuff available here)

[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.”

[yslkook]

red card - on the defensive (1)

pairing: jungkook x reader (soccer captain jjk) summary: you and jungkook run in the same circles, and yet after three years, he struggles to get your time of day. you think he’s cocky and he’s going to change your mind. word count: 5.1k warnings: cursing, alcohol/drinking (lots of it), suggestive content a/n: this story is for @cutechim​, it went down in the DM’s and came to life. this is my entry into the blond jk foray!! enjoy<3

red card masterlist

“What should we drink?” Hana shouts over the music to you in the crowd.

“Uh… let’s do jagerbombs,” You shout back, even though you’re both relatively close to each other at the bar. You peer behind you at the group of people you’ve congregated with this afternoon, counting a total of four. 

“Can I have… eight jagerbombs?” You request of the bartender, who raises his eyebrow at you.

“Why am I not surprised,” He says with a roll of his eyes, “You’re all gonna run me dry of my jager.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time it happened,” You mutter. And you’re right- it’s happened at least twice over this summer, when you and your friends made a weekly appearance to this bar. The bartender knows you and Hana by your faces at this point and you’ve jokingly asked why your usual order of jagerbombs or tequila shots aren’t ready upon arrival.

These weekly occurrences were sponsored by your job at a law firm near your university. And by sponsored, you mean that your bank account takes a minor hit on a weekly basis. Since university had let out, you’d made yourself available for as many hours as possible- after all, you needed a way to fund these days and nights out.

While juggling a summer class three days a week for three hours each day.

But you weren’t completely financially irresponsible- you drew the line… eventually. Certainly not after eight jagerbombs though (you’d stopped questioning how you could easily drop that much money on alcohol these days). At least it's summer happy hour and you’re not paying full price.

Besides, you and your friends rotate rounds. Hana will get the next one, and then one of the guys, and so on and so forth. You’d gotten two extra specially for you and Hana, but nobody needed to know that.

You love these summer days, when it’s nothing but you and your friends enjoying the breeze and the vibes of a fun afternoon (that inevitably leads to a night of more recklessness). Nothing can take the tipsy grin off of your face or the arm looped around your best friend’s shoulders, except-

Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook.  You don’t mind Jimin as much (mostly because of Hana, who’s been harboring a not so secret crush that is definitely bordering more on love than a simple crush on him for who knew how long). But still, when all three of them are together, you make your disdain very known and obvious. At least you think you do.

Some of the star players from your university’s soccer team, and the captain himself, Jeon Jungkook. They walk into the crowded, noisy bar as if they own the place and you can already see heads turning. You roll your eyes and tell Hana to get it together when she starts giggling and waving at Jimin.

Your eyes seem to meet the back of your skull when all three of them saunter over towards you and your friends. It’s not that you have anything against them per se, it’s that you find them as a unit quite annoying and you know of their reputations. Or, you think you know of their reputations. Maybe you’re a little judgmental. But who cares, it’s not any of their business.

Most of your perhaps misplaced vitriol is reserved for Jungkook himself and the few interactions that you’ve had over the last almost four years of being in university together. You’ve had a few general ed classes with him freshman year, but after that most of your interactions were solely at parties and any excuse to celebrate. You had mutual friends (somehow) so it was inevitable that you saw him as much as you did.

Every fiber of him annoyed you- he was cocky and arrogant… Everything you intensely disliked in a person. Hana told you that you were being mean and judgmental (not as nicely), but if it meant not dealing with this boy who got a rise out of you for no reason, then it didn’t matter. Of course, he doesn’t take up space in your mind very often. Only when you have the misfortune of running into him.

You didn’t know him, and truly, you didn’t care to. You’ll remain civil though, only if he doesn’t annoy you. Which you doubt will happen.

Jungkook can sense your iciness towards him and his friends from half a mile away, from across the bar. And the bar itself is pretty big, with an outdoor area and an outdoor dance floor, and two bars inside with tables and booths and a dance floor. Despite the space of the bar, it’s crowded with college students, young professionals, and even older corporate workers who look like they work relatively close to the bar. He knows you and your friends come here often, and if that was why he had suggested to Jimin and Tae that they also come here then that was his business.

He swallows (not nervously). You look so pretty when you laugh, he thinks. He thinks you look pretty all the time, though. He lets his eyes wander to your tight black crop top shirt with cherries printed on it and your high waisted denim shorts. Jungkook’s throat goes a little dry when his gaze reaches your thighs, but he keeps it together somehow. He doesn’t know how, considering how nice that outfit makes your tits look.

“Hey Cherries,” Jungkook says smoothly, “Flattered you got this for me.” And he plucks the jagerbomb that you paid for for yourself and downs it in less than three seconds. 

Your jaw drops. The audacity of this boy.

“First of all,” You narrow your eyes, “Who the fuck is a ‘Cherries’. And second of all, I know you didn’t just drink the drink that I paid for. Right in front of my fuckin’ face.”

“That’s a funny way of asking me to buy you a drink, Cherries,” Jungkook grins, and gazes at your chest for a second too long. You roll your eyes and swat his arm.

“I’m not asking. I’m telling you. I’ll have a tequila shot, pretty boy,” You smirk at him and he smirks right back at you.

“I like a girl who knows what she wants,” Jungkook attempts, only for you to scoff.

“Congratulations,” You say flatly, “You’re lucky I’m not subjecting you to getting me two tequila shots for having to hear that line.”

“You don’t like my lines?” He’s pouty and his eyes are wide, mischief sparkling in them. You dare to think that he’s cute. Apparently all of the boys had dyed their hair blond this summer before the soccer season began and you must admit that it suits him. His hair falls over his forehead effortlessly, small hoops dangling from his ears as he smiles at you.

“Does anyone? Do your groupies?”

“Maybe I’m a little rusty…”

“Oh, I doubt that, Jungkook.”

“Well, you notice whether I have groupies or not, so maybe I’m not so rusty, Cherries,” Jungkook winks at you and you’re tempted to toss your drink at him. But that’s a precious waste of alcohol and perhaps you’re a little dramatic.

You only groan and accept the tequila shot, quickly licking your hand to place salt on and taking a wedge of lime.

“Ready?” Jungkook asks after doing the same.

“How lucky for me, that I get to do shots with our star quarterback,” You say flatly.

“That’s football, Cherries. I play soccer.”

“And I don’t care. Now, take this shot with me.”

As the afternoon blends into evening, you witness betrayal in front of your very eyes in the form of Hana inviting Jimin and his friends with you to the next bar. The ultimate betrayal.

But really, you’ve heard about those soccer boys. At least you think you have. Perhaps you know everything. Perhaps you know nothing at all.

And so the three boys follow you to the next bar as the night goes on. Nearly everyone was at least tipsy by this point, as you had all done a handful of shots following the boys’ arrival at the first bar.

You find yourself thinking that they’re not so bad, when they make you and your friends laugh easily and when being around them feels… fun. 

It’s easy to blame on the alcohol and the darkness of the crowded bar. It seems like everyone is out and about, the streets filled with college students and young professionals looking to unwind and let off some steam.

You love the feeling of the music pumping through your veins, along with the swirl of alcohol. You’re not ashamed of enjoying a drink (or several) and having a good time.

Even if it almost always results in you crossing the line and being hungover the next day.

“Wanna do shots,” You suggest to your circle of friends, eyes landing on Jungkook without you meaning to. Maybe it’s a hidden challenge and he raises his eyebrows.

“Again?” Jungkook says incredulously.

“Don’t be surprised,” Jimin mutters under his breath to Jungkook, “She’s kinda crazy.”

“I’ll take that as a yes… six shots then?” You say cheerily, ignoring Jungkook’s groan. You vaguely recall that Taehyung doesn’t really drink. How considerate of you.

Hana’s arm is slung around your shoulders, a bright (drunken) smile on her face as you pass shots behind you.

The following week, on your usual day of happy hour drinking, Hana presents you with a proposition that has you gasping and gagging, nearly writhing on the floor.

“No, for your information, I do not want to pregame at the soccer house. Thanks for asking, try again later,” You say definitively, pouring Hana a drink.

“Jimin invited us! I wanna see him,” Hana complains and pouts at you, “He said they got good alcohol for the pregame-”

“Jimin invited you, because you both like each other or whatever,” You roll your eyes, “I’m content to drink here alone-”

“We both know you’ll fall asleep if I leave you alone,” Hana says flatly, “Besides, Jungkook asked if you were coming.”

“And what do I care if Jungkook asked if I was coming?” You scoff, taking a long swig of the strong drink in your red solo cup. You cringe.

“He specifically asked if Cherries was coming,” Hana says with a near maniacal grin, “Pretend all you want that you don’t like that shit. Now go wear that top with cherries on it that makes your tits look nice. Quit being difficult.”

In the end, you end up walking the four blocks to the soccer house and you wear the baby pink long sleeved crop top with cherries on it and denim shorts, much to your chagrin (and to Hana’s delight). You’ve only been here a handful of times (maybe two or three) as a freshman for parties and hadn’t been back since.

Everyone knew the soccer house was the place to party to get shitfaced. Usually, the sophomore and junior year soccer players lived in the house while senior year players moved off campus.

You don’t know who currently lives at the house, but Hana quickly fills you in. Apparently Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook lived together off campus (because of course they did).

The soccer house has been part of the campus lore for years. Allegedly, all of the craziest, most reckless things happened at the soccer house and all of the best parties were there. You and Hana never felt that way freshman and sophomore year, instead opting to party hop at the frat houses rather than the sports houses.

How the tables have turned.

“You made it!” Jimin exclaims, outstretching his arms for a hug from you. Which you (awkwardly) return. You need more alcohol to be here, you think.

“Yeah, only ‘cause Hana told me you guys got the good shit,” You say flatly. Taehyung passes a cup of something and you eye it suspiciously but ultimately take a swig of it.

“Pretty good, Tae,” You say, raising your cup to him.

“Oh, I didn’t make that. I’m only the messenger,” Taehyung shrugs with a sly grin, “Jungkook over there did.”

You turn your head, only to find Jungkook staring back at you, lips upturned in a playful grin. It makes you roll your eyes, as most of his antics do.

“Hey, Cherries,” Jungkook greets, standing next to you after a few long strides, “It only took Jimin asking you once to come here, huh? I should be offended, considering how many times I’ve asked you-”

“And when have you ever asked me to party here, Jungkook?”

He only gives you a small smile, almost shy, and it’s a stark contrast from the generally cocky aura that hangs around him. “You just don’t remember.”

You frown a little, wondering what that means. But he gives you another broad smile quickly, shaking you from your reverie. Jungkook leaves you to your devices, being pulled away by some of the younger soccer guys that you hardly recognize. Freshmen? Sophomores, maybe? They look at Jungkook and the older guys with a playful sort of reverence- it’s clear that the team is close even off of the field. 

You briefly wonder what that’s like- having a group of friends like that. Hana’s always been the nicer, more outgoing one out of you both. She’s always made friends easily, with her sweet and genuine smiles. And then there’s you- you struggle to open up to others, always greeting anyone with the sting of sarcasm and holding people at arm’s length.

Sometimes, very rarely, you wonder how you and Hana mesh well together. When she could have a big group of great friends, you used to wonder if you hold her back somehow. It was stupid, and the first time you voiced your insecurity to Hana, she had smacked you upside the head and told you that you were stuck with her.

But still. You can’t help but feel burdensome sometimes. Maybe like you’re too much. Maybe not enough.

Hana pulls you out of your thoughts easily, an arm around your shoulder as she pulls you into conversation with Jimin and a few other girls. 

You down about half the cup of whatever concoction Jungkook whipped up for you and tried to immerse yourself in conversation. There’s a new girl here that you don’t recognize, Sunmi. She’s a transfer and the last thing you want is for her to feel left out. So you make sure to include her in the conversation and ask her questions, too.

Jungkook is not surprised that you don’t remember how many times he’s asked you to come party at the soccer house. Granted, it’s only been a handful of times over the last three years and change. It’s not like you were a stranger- he’s known you through a few mutual classes through the years, and through Jimin, too. After all, Jimin and your best friend have had this weird on and off, together but not together thing going on since the summer before sophomore year.

Maybe one of these days, they’ll get it together. Jungkook loves Hana for Jimin and vice versa- he’s never seen either smile as much as they do around each other. If only they would just admit how much they like (love) each other and put everyone around them out of their misery.

Jungkook thinks it’s a little romantic. Being so in love with someone that labels aren’t needed. There’s something poetic about that.

But Jungkook doesn’t know why you act like you don’t know him at all. You always greet him with a near frown or a roll of your shining eyes.

He doesn’t understand but he pays it no mind, instead turning his focus to the pretty woman eyeing him from the other side of the bar with her friends.

(She’s not you, but it doesn’t matter. Jungkook pushes you to the back of his mind, instead choosing to focus on the velvet heat of the woman in his bed later that night.)

With your shift at the law firm starting at 9 AM the following morning, you decide to remain relatively sober for the night (you enjoy a good time, but you try to draw the line when you can. Though there have been times when you’ve gone to work hungover or possibly even still intoxicated. It happens every so often. You’ve never claimed to be the paradigm of a working college student.)

But also, you don’t really feel like being out tonight to begin with. You do enjoy nights like this, but you also enjoy your quiet time. And it seems like this is one of those nights.

At least someone’s having fun, you think dryly, your eyes glossing over Jimin and Hana. You do think they’d be a great match- if only either of them would make it official. This dance that they’ve been doing for years frustrates you and Hana knows it. You’ve voiced it to her many times but she always says it’s not the right time.

It makes you roll your eyes. You briefly wondered if you should host an intervention and scold Jimin for taking too long- after all, if they kept playing games like this then who’s to say one of them wouldn’t move on? But it seems like they both always gravitate to each other no matter what.

He rotates around her axis and she rotates around his. It’s sweet but Jimin still puts a sour taste in your mouth for a reason that you can’t verbalize into words.

Maybe it’s the company he keeps. 

The music is loud in your ears as you dance with your group of friends, two of them in an impromptu dance off that you inevitably get dragged into. You sling your arm around Sunmi and nudge hips with her, getting her to come out of her shell a little bit and dance with her on the dance floor. She sings to the same songs as you do and gives you a bright, happy smile that you can’t help but return.

You buy a round of beers for your friends before the first yawn comes, not even at 1 AM. Hana looks at you quizzically.

You keep checking your phone for the time. Which in itself is pretty out of character for you. But you just need a recharge before the next outing…..

But you suck it up, not wanting to leave Sunmi by herself. You fight through your yawns and nurse your beer, twirling and swirling around with Sunmi.

And then you start to get hungry. Damn, you could go for some tacos right now.

“Hey,” Sunmi shouts over the music, “Wanna get food?”

“Wow, you read my mind,” You grin and chug your beer quickly. You and Sunmi both settle on the bar across the street (with the best tacos). You turn to find your friends and let them know that you’re heading across the street. Jimin and Hana both nod eagerly, Taehyung does, too.

You debate if you should ask Jungkook if he wants food- after all, it looks like he’s busy with a girl currently sending him sultry heart eyes. 

“Hey, we’re going to get food. Wanna come?” You ask, “You, too.” You look at the pretty girl who looks familiar. She probably attends the same university as you and your friends. 

Jungkook’s ears perk up at the mention of food, even with the girl currently standing in between his legs. She looks wary for a minute and before you can reassure her, Jungkook speaks up.

“Sure. I could go for some tacos,” Jungkook says, “Let’s get some tacos, Nari.”

“Are you sure, I mean I don’t want to impose. We can catch up later, Kook,” Nari says unsurely.

Jungkook will admit, this feels weird for a reason that he can’t place. The girl he’s trying to hook up with for the night getting tacos with the girl he might have a slight crush on. 

Weird. But still, there’s no harm in just having tacos.

“Trust me, you’re not imposing, Nari. I barely even like this guy,” You joke, “I’m just a big proponent of tacos and tacos should never be eaten alone. Tell your friends too, if they wanna come.”

“Hey!” 

You ignore Jungkook to reassure Nari and give her a bright smile. Nari looks at you, and then Jungkook before nodding slowly and returning your smile.

Jungkook walks Nari out with a hand at the small of her back, something you don’t miss as you chat away with Nari about anything and everything.

You even shoot Jungkook a wink when Nari isn’t looking. He groans internally- how poetic. His current crush giving him the approval of his hook up for the night (Nari knew what the deal was).

How incredibly awkward. Jungkook is capable of many things, always adapting to situations. But this is a new one and when Jimin and Taehyung catch his eye at the taco shop, they both give him a derisive smile.

Jungkook can only groan internally and eat his tacos.

Today’s Wednesday night is uneventful- Hana is with Jimin for the evening and they are likely going out with some friends. You had opted out, as you had an early shift at the law firm tomorrow morning. You’ve gone out the night before early shifts and early classes and more than half the time, you regret it the next day.

Does it mean you’ll stop those habits any time soon? Stay tuned.

But today, you just feel tired from a particularly long, difficult morning of class and your half shift that you worked until five PM. You hadn’t felt like cooking dinner (you had taken leftovers to work for lunch) and by the time you finished your homework for your natural language processing class, it was past 9 PM and your stomach was rumbling loudly.

You’ve been craving noodles, dumplings and chicken. So you place an order at the nearby restaurant by your apartment and order some extra for Hana for later or for tomorrow.

It’s only a fifteen minute walk from your apartment to the shop, and you plug your headphones in to begin your walk.

You sway on the heels of your feet as you wait for your food, saying hello to the couple who owns the small restaurant. They know you by face, from how many times you’ve been here. Your favorite comfort food (besides homemade food made by your parents) exists here. Your favorite aromas exist here and even just the smell of noodles and chicken has your tummy rumbling.

“I thought you would’ve been out,” A voice comes from your right side, “It’s the week before classes start.”

You turn your head at the voice, heart startling a bit. What in the world is Jungkook doing at your secret but not so secret restaurant?

“I could say the same for you,” You remark with a raise of your eyebrow, “I heard Jimin and Tae went out.”

You vaguely wonder if he’s still hooking up with Nari but decide it’s not your business to ask.

“Ah, well… I have work tomorrow,” Jungkook shrugs.

“Me too, they want me in at 7:30 tomorrow,” You complain, “What do I look like? A cog in the wheel that is capitalism?”

“Don’t we all?” Jungkook snorts.

“I didn’t realize you were working this summer, too. Thought you were just doing whatever soccer captains do,” You mutter, picking up your order off of the countertop.

“And what do soccer captains do, Cherries?”

“I dunno. Score touchdowns or whatever,” You shrug and laugh at the pained expression on Jungkook’s face, “And stop calling me that, Jungkook.”

“Whatever, Cherries. I’ve been working at this architecture firm as an intern. Figured it would help with post grad.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t know that was your major…”

“You definitely did, I’m pretty sure I’ve told you.”

“When-” You shake your head, not wanting to argue with him, “That’s cool. I’m working at a law firm, it’s about a fifteen minute bus ride from my apartment.”

“You wanna study law? Makes sense, because you always wanna argue with me-”

“No, I don’t really know if I want to go to grad school,” You trail off, “Hey! I don’t always argue with you!”

“You’re arguing now,” He says smugly, crossing his hands across his broad chest that you definitely do not ogle at.

“Whatever, Jungkook,” You roll your eyes, “You here for classes or anything?”

“Nah, not this summer. Just work and soccer,” Jungkook replies, “Gives me lots of time for other things.” The man has the audacity to wink at you and give you a big, bunny grin. You pretend like your stomach doesn’t flutter.

You roll your eyes, again. 

“How about you, Cherries? Any classes?”

“Yeah, I’m taking this natural language processing class three times a week for three hours each day-”

“Wait, you’re a comp sci major?” He asks incredulously, “Why are you working at a law firm then?”

“I’m working half as IT support and half as the intern,” You reply with a shrug, “It pays well and it’s pretty easy. Half of the IT support comes in the form of telling the lawyers to restart their computers for software updates. It’s so funny, you should see their amazed faces when all it takes is a fuckin’ restart. Makes a girl feel smart as hell.”

“Smart and pretty, huh?” Jungkook says with a crooked grin, “Where you been all my life, Cherries?”

“Shut up,” You say flatly, levelling him with a glare that only makes him smirk even wider at you.

“Cute,” He breathes with so much conviction that it almost makes you flustered. You clutch your bag of food a little tighter to ground yourself. 

“Me telling you to shut up is cute?” You raise both your eyebrows, eager to shield him from the heat in your cheeks.

“Among many other things, Cherries.”

“Share with the class then…”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Shut up, and why do you like calling me cherries so much,” You complain, lips jutted out in a pout, “I only wore that top once and now look. You’re referring to me as a delectable, juicy fruit. I mean I don’t blame you-”

“Cherries are my favorite,” Jungkook says, dark eyes swirling with stars. He unnerves you with his raw honesty and sincerity and he lets the implication of his words hang in between you both, your eyes wide by his statement. 

“Well, your taste is questionable because mangoes are very obviously superior-”

You both share a laugh and you’re pleasantly surprised by how the silence that comfortably falls isn’t awkward when you deflect. His name is called shortly after, breaking his intense stare. 

You let out a huff, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

“Hey, I’ll drive you home,” Jungkook says, pushing the door open for you to exit the shop.

“You have a car on campus?” You say, unable to hold back the awe in your voice, “That’s awesome. And uh, no, I mean, you really don’t have to, it’s only a fifteen minute walk-”

“It’s a two minute ride,” Jungkook says, “But I mean, if you’re not comfortable, I get it-”

“No, it’s not that,” You say honestly, “I just don’t want to inconvenience you-”

“You’re not, it’s a two minute ride. Now get in,” Jungkook says reassuringly, opening the passenger side door for you. He puts his own bags of food in the backseat before getting into the driver’s side.

You’ve never really been alone with Jungkook, but for some reason it doesn’t feel that strange. It’s easy to keep conversation (really, it’s banter) flowing with him- as if you’ve been friends for the entirety of the last few years of college. As if you hadn’t spent nearly every waking moment thinking of him a certain way.

He’s easy to talk to. It unnerves you, but you roll with it.

“You should come to a practice one of these days,” Jungkook murmurs. You raise an eyebrow. Why would he ask you to come to one of his soccer practices when you had only just started an acquaintance-ship? Isn’t that crossing some sort of friendship line that you both hadn’t approached yet.

It’s months later when you realize that everything Jungkook does and says is because of his kind, golden heart. He’s such a genuine person, sincerity always dripping from his warm, brown eyes. Everything he does, he does with love.

“Thanks for driving me home, Jungkook,” You murmur with a small smile. It makes his heart sputter in his chest and he easily returns it. “Text me when you get home?”

“If you wanted my number, all you had to do was ask. Cherries,” Jungkook says smugly and you gasp, affronted. “Text me when you get inside your place.”

“That’s not- I didn’t-” You stammer, sighing, “I already have your number, stupid.”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“I’m not flustered,” You mutter, cheeks blazing as you hurry to get out of his car. Which coincidentally smells just like him. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

“‘Night, Cherry.”

You roll your eyes but give him a small wave and a smile before entering your building. 

cherries: I’m inside. Drive safe jungkook: you worried about me? cherries: no im worried about your nice car jungkook: uh huh… gonna leave now, text you when i get home? cherries: 👍🏾

It’s about three minutes later (you barely even have time to wash your hands and change into pajamas) before your phone lights up again.

jungkook: im home cherries: me too jungkook: wow you’re funny cherries: pretty and smart too, according to you jungkook: well i wasnt lying 😍 cherries: Uh huhhhhh

You put your phone to the side to put some of the food on your plate, your stomach still rumbling. You turn on the anime you’re currently watching and get cozy on the couch with a glass of wine.

And in the middle of your late dinner, your wine and your show, your phone lights up with texts from Jungkook. It surprises you that he holds the conversation even when you had given him such a dull response. Isn’t he tired of texting you by now?

He keeps you company through your dinner and you barely are even paying attention to the anime you’re watching, only giggling to yourself over Jungkook’s silly texts-

cherries: you’re so distracting, couldnt even finish this episode of fruits basket jungkook: cute cherries: i cant tell u if its cute, i barely watched it bc of you jungkook: no i meant u. Ur cute

Five seconds go by. Then ten. Your face is heated- you’re glad he can’t see you. Maybe you’ll reciprocate someday. But today is not that day.

cherries: shut up

tags: @kookdbean

[rachaelswrites]

The Unsub

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

You help the team with an unsub that’s connected to you.

Word Count: 3,498

A/n: I got a little carried away with this

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, guns, blood

“Y/n I promise you’ll be fine. I’m not coming to get you,” your dad said over the phone. He had been arguing with you the whole way to the BAU.

“But dad please? I can retake it. I’ll get a better score if I do,” you pleaded. 

“Honey I said no. I’m at work now. What ever score you get I’ll be proud of you,” 

“You’re only saying that to make me feel better,” you said.

“No I’m not. I mean it. I know you work hard,” 

“I wish I had your memory. Could you just give me a piece of your brain please?” 

“Goodbye Y/n. I’ll see you after school,” 

“Bye dad,” you hung up the phone and Spencer was running late so he hurried to where the rest of the team was. 

“There you are kid. You’re never late,” Morgan teased. 

“Sorry something came up with Y/n,” Spencer responded.

“Is she ok?” Hotch asked. 

“Oh yeah she’s fine. She just had a test she didn’t study for and wanted me to get her so she didn’t have to take it,” 

Everyone nodded and looked to Garcia to present the case. “We have an interesting case. It’s local so we don’t have to travel. Three teenage girls have been taken from the local high school,” Garcia said, “so far, they haven't been able to make a connection yet. All the girls so far have brown hair and brown eyes so we could narrow down our search for potential victims,” 

“Do we have contact with anyone who knows the girls and the families?” JJ asked.

“Yes. The families will be by later and we need to get someone at the school,” 

Spencer was looking at the board, looking at all the girls. You were the same age and went to the same school as them. You could have easily been taken instead.  

Hotch noticed Reid deep in thought and spoke up, “Reid why don’t you go to the school and see if they can give us information on the girls,” 

Reid nodded and stood up and went to leave, but Hotch grabbed his sleeve and whispered in his ear “I know you’re worried about Y/n. Feel free to bring her back here so you can keep an eye on her,” 

“Thank you Hotch,” Spencer responded. He grabbed his bag from his desk and left for the school. 

You had just finished lunch and your friends were walking around the school talking. One of your friends stopped you mid sentence. “Isn’t that your dad Y/n?” She pointed towards the main entrance. Your dad was in fact standing outside the office, talking to one of the office workers. 

“Yeah. I don’t know why he’s here,” you said, “I’ll see you guys later,” you walked down the hallway towards your dad. 

“I just need to see if I can get the files from the students who went missing. Maybe to try and find a connection,” you heard your dad say. 

“Sure I'll go get them,” the lady said. She disappeared into the office and he started to look at the posters littering the wall. 

“Dad? What are you doing here?” 

Spencer turned “I’m just here for some work stuff. I didn’t mean to interrupt your day,” 

“It’s fine. It’s lunch right now I’m not missing anything,” you said. You so badly wanted more info on the case he was working on. You knew about the disappearances but didn’t think your dad would be out in the field, “what kind of work stuff?” 

“Uhh. I can’t really tell you right now,” He tried to figure out a way to explain everything without scaring you, “do you want to come back to the BAU with me? You might be able to help us a bit,” 

“Sure,” 

The office lady returned with a stack of files, “here’s what we have on file. Anything from discipline records to attendance,” 

“Thank you. I’m also going to be taking Y/n with me, is that alright?” 

“Yes just sign her out at the desk,” the lady returned back to her own office and Spencer signed you out. 

You took the train back to the BAU and nearly skipped into the room where the team was, “hi guys” you said cheerily waving to them. 

“Well. If it isn’t my favorite Reid. How are you doing Little Reid?” Morgan asked, ruffling your hair.

“I’m good. What case are you working on?” 

Morgan looked at Reid, “you haven’t told her?” 

“Not yet. I was just about to,” Reid said. 

“Tell me what?” You butted in. 

“We think the unsub might be someone at the school. Either a student or faculty member. We’re hoping you could help us narrow it down,” Rossi explained. 

“Yeah sure. Do you guys have a profile yet?” 

“Not yet. We need your help with that Y/n,” Hotch said. 

You nodded and he led you into the conference room. You sat down and watched as JJ laid out pictures of all the missing girls in front of you. 

“Did you know any of these girls? Were you friends with them?” She asked. 

You took your time and looked over the pictures. You knew of them. Your school was a private school and the class sizes were small. Everyone knew something about everyone, but people still kept things in their own circles. “Not really. The school is small but people are private. Kids like to stay in their own group pretty much,” 

“Was there a bullying issue at the school? Maybe these girls picked on the same kid,” Morgan suggested. 

“Mmm. I don’t think so. Everyone got along well. Just people like to stick with what they know I guess,” 

“What about teachers? Anyone who was maybe too friendly or really interested in student lives?” Hotch asked. 

“Not that I can think of,” you said. 

“There’s too many classes that overlap with each other so I don’t think it’s a teacher. There’s also no correlation in extracurricular activities. It would have to be a student,” your dad said. The whole time, he was flipping through the files, “Y/n is there anyone you can think of that had contact with all of them?” 

“I can’t think of any. Sorry,” your knee was bouncing up and down. You didn’t feel like you were helping much. 

“They are teenage girls though. Maybe they hid stuff,” Prentiss suggested. 

“We had all their things checked. The unsub took the backpacks so all we could get were lockers and the houses,” Rossi said. 

“Oh! There is something I remember,” you exclaimed. 

“What is it?” Hotch questioned. 

“A few days ago at lunch, this group of girls were talking. I think they were friends with one of the missing girls. They talked about a note she received the day she went missing,” 

“We talked to friends. They didn’t know anything,” JJ said. 

“Kids lie. Especially teenage girls when they do something they’re not supposed to,” Morgan said. 

“Do you remember what the note said Y/n? Reid asked. 

“No. They didn’t actually say what the note said. They had a picture of it on a phone. I didn’t exactly inherit your eidetic memory,” you teased at your dad.  

“Just say what you remember,” he responded. 

“It was something about meeting someone else. I think there was a time listed. They signed it too I think,” 

Everyone looked at each other around the room, “what did it say?” Rossi said.

“I think it was signed ‘D.J’. But that could be so many people,” 

“It could be initials or a nickname or pseudonym,” your dad said, “but that does narrow down the list,” 

All of a sudden, Garcia came into the room, “I was able to find a connection between the victims. They all had parents in either government jobs or in first response,” 

“That narrows it down even more,” Morgan stated.

“Most likely our unsub has a tie to either government or first response. He most likely had a vendetta for some reason,” Hotch said. 

Spencer noticed your leg was bouncing quicker now. He moved from across the room and sat in the chair next to you. He grabbed one of your hands in his, “take your time sweetheart. You’re ok,” he whispered. 

You sat and thought for a moment, “there is one boy. His name is Dylan. His mom died about a year ago. It was a car accident. His dad was an EMT. He was the first one on the scene. They didn’t know it was her though. I think he saw her die. Over the summer, Dylan’s dad killed himself. I think Dylan said the note he left said something about not being able to watch people die anymore,” 

“Definitely sounds like our guy,” Morgan said. 

“Why would these girls go off not knowing who is writing them those notes though?” JJ asked. 

“I think they just assumed it was him. He’s the only one with enough guts to do that,” you explained, “and he’s the best looking,” you mumbled. 

“What was that?” Reid asked, clearly hearing what you said.

“All I mean is that guys who look like Dylan could get any girl he wanted. Everyone has a crush one him,” 

“Everyone?” Prentice wiggled her eyebrows at you. 

“Everyone does,” you repeated. 

Spencer decided to save this conversation for a different time. 

“JJ, get a list of potential victims and put a security detail on them. Garcia let’s try and get an address on Dylan,” 

The team started to leave the room, “Dad can I go home now?” You asked. 

“Really? You’re a potential target for a serial kidnapper and you want to leave a government protected building? Absolutely not. You’re staying here for the rest of the day,” Spencer said standing up. 

“But you have his name and you’re finding his address. I’ll be fine,” you complained.

“Y/n I’m serious. I said no. I don’t want you leaving this building without me. I’m trying to keep you safe,” 

“Fine,” you pushed past him and stormed out of the room. Spencer sat down at his desk. He started working on something to blow off some steam. 

You managed to keep yourself occupied for a few hours by talking with the team and doing school work. You were sitting in JJ’s office, working on an essay. You were growing restless and wanted to go home. You quickly pulled out some math work, pretending to look it over. “Hey JJ I’m going to go see if my dad can help me with some math. I’ll be back soon,” you packed your things and headed towards your dad’s desk. 

Once you were out of her eyesight, you diverted your path towards the exit and headed home. 

Back at the BAU a few hours past and your dad hadn’t seen or heard from you. Reid walked around, looking for you. He bumped into JJ, “Hey JJ have you seen Y/n?” 

“Very funny Spence. I know she’s with you,” she replied.

“What do you mean? I haven’t seen her in awhile,” Spencer was now worrying. What if the unsub found you here?

“She told me she was going to find you. She needed help with homework,”

It all clicked for Spencer. He knew where you went. He just hoped neither did the unsub. “We have to go. Get the team,” he grabbed his bag and ran out the door, heading towards the apartment with the team behind him. 

There was no sign of forced entry, but you were gone and there was blood on the carpet and things knocked to the floor. The team was looking around the apartment, hoping to find something that could lead to you. Spencer was sitting on the couch, trying to process what was happening. Morgan stopped what he was doing and sat next to him, “Reid we’re going to find her. Your girl is tough, she'll fight him,” he reassured. 

“I know. I just feel like this is my fault. I forced her to stay with me to keep her safe, and now look. She’s been kidnapped!” 

“This is not your fault. You were trying to protect your daughter and Y/n knew that. She’s just a stubborn kid who doesn’t like listening to her dad. That’s not on you,”

Before Spencer could respond Hotch got a call from Garcia, “Garcia you’re on speaker,”

“I checked school records and it turns out that the home Dylan shared with his family was sold a few months ago,”

“So where is he living now? Is there any family in the area?” Hotch asked. 

“Uh it looks like the father owned a storage unit that has been accessed several times in the last few days,” 

“When was the last time it was accessed?” 

“Thirty minutes ago. I’m sending the address your way,” 

You don’t remember much about how you got here. You were bound to a chair facing a garage door. Only a few hours ago you were walking home, just wanting to watch tv. You had unlocked the front door and set your things in your room. You went into the kitchen to grab a snack when you heard a key in the door. You assumed it was your dad. “Hey dad,” you said, turning towards the open door. You were not expecting the person in front of you, “Dylan what are you doing here?” 

“What do you think?” he said, slamming the door shut, “I came here for you. Isn’t that what your dad warned you about. He works for the FBI right? He probably knew it was me,”

“Yeah he did,” you were trying to stall him. Your dad would get worried about you sooner or later, “The team figured it out pretty quickly. You didn’t do a very good job,”

“Well I got you. That’s all I need,” he took a step towards you. You looked around for something you could use to hurt him. Before you could reach for one of the books on the counter, he grabbed you. You tried to kick and punch your way out of his grip but he pulled a knife out of his pocket and stabbed you in the stomach. Only deep enough to make you bleed, not puncture an organ. 

You stopped fighting and tried to apply pressure to the wound, “If you’re gonna kill me, at least tell me why,”

“Don’t you want to know how I got in?” he teased. 

“I do but, the FBI agents will figure that out. I just want to know why you’d kill me,”

He pulled you up and pinned you hands behind your back, “Do you remember last year? We worked on a project together. Your dad wasn’t here. You said he was working. We had a nice long talk about how our dads and their jobs get in the way of raising their families,”

“I don’t remember that. Guess you didn’t make much of an impression,”

He grunted angrily and shoved you forward, making you fall. Your head hit the floor and you rolled over. You felt blood trickling down the side of your face. The fall most likely giving  you a concussion. He pulled you up to your feet and pushed you out the door and down one of the back stairwells. He shoved you into the back seat of his car and tied a blindfold around your eyes. 

The ride was short and he stopped abruptly. He grabbed your upper arm and walked you a few feet before stopping. You tried remembering things your dad told you to do if you were kidnapped. It felt cold so you were outside, maybe near water. You could smell metal and a musky odor. There’s a storage ward near the marina. That's where you probably are. 

The sound of a door sliding open startled you. You were led into the unit and placed on a chair. You could hear the breathing of other people. Dylan took the blindfold off and you waited for your eyes to adjust to the light. Not that there was much. Dylan was already gone. You looked around and saw all the other girls who went missing. 

A few minutes later, Dylan returned with another knife and now a gun, “I thought we were on the same page Y/n. Our dads missed our lives because of work. But I guess I was wrong. I realized shortly after our conversation I was wrong. You had a better life than me. You were happy. And I had to suffer by myself I had no one who understood me,”

“Dylan stop! This is stupid. Let them go. Hurt me not them. Your issue is with me,”

“My dad watched my mom die and then I had to watch my dad throw his life away,” he held the gun up, towards the other three victims, “Now you’re going to have to watch them die,”

“Dylan don’t do this!” but it was too late. He pulled the trigger and the three girls were dead. He now trained the gun on you. 

“Now your dad will get to watch you die,”

The sound of three gunshots rang in the air. The team ran in the direction of the shots. They reached the storage unit that belonged to Dylan. “Spence stayed out here. We don’t know what we’ll find,” JJ said. 

Morgan and Hotch opened the door, “Dylan Johnston, it’s the FBI,” Hotch yelled. 

You couldn’t see anything. Your eyes were covered in the blindfold again. You looked up in the direction of Hotch’s voice.

“Put the gun down Dylan. Let the girl go,” That was Morgan. He was pleading with him. He saw you as his little sister, he cared about you. He couldn’t let you get hurt.

“I can't, I have to do this,” You felt Dylan move away from you. Then gunshots. 

“Get an ambulance,” Morgan said, most likely to Hotch, “Y/n are you ok? Are you hurt?” 

“M’fine. Just a little blood, and a headache. Morgan?”

“What?”

“Am I dead? I heard a gun. Did he shoot you too? Are we both dead,”

“Not on my watch Little Reid,”

Morgan walked towards you and lifted the blindfold off of your face. He sighed when he saw all the blood. He reached to move some hair out of your face but you pulled away, “I want my dad. Please get my dad!” 

“JJ, get Reid in here,” he spoke in his ear-in, “Can I untie you?” 

You nodded and he bent down in front of you, “Where’s my dad? I want him now,” you said again. 

He pulled the ropes off your wrists and helped you stand up, “I know, he’s getting here,” he looked at the doorway, Spencer still wasn’t there, “Reid get in here!” he yelled. Morgan helped walk you towards the doorway. 

Y/n!” Spencer exclaimed. He rushed over to you and grabbed you from Morgan. He hugged you tightly, loosening his grip when you winced, “are you ok? You’re hurt aren’t you?” 

You nodded your head, “It’s bad Reid. She needs to go to the hospital,” Morgan whispered to him, “she can’t walk very well either,”

Reid looked at you. You were clinging to him, scared of losing him again. He carried you out of the unit, just in time for the ambulance to arrive. One of the paramedics opened the doors and brought out a stretcher. Reid carefully placed you on it, not letting go of your hand, “We have to go, she’s losing a lot of blood. She needs surgery,” the medic told your dad. 

“Reid go with her. Morgan you too,” Hotch instructed. Both men climbed in the back of the ambulance next to you. Voices were fading in and out and you felt your eyelids getting heavy. 

“Sweetheart, please keep your eyes open. Please, for me,” your dad begged. 

“I can’t. M’tired,” 

Spencer and the team were in the waiting room. Everyone was worried about you. Spencer couldn’t sit and was pacing back and forth while Garcia kept fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. “Dr. Reid?” a nurse came out, and he quickly walked over to her, “Your daughter is going to be fine. Her surgery went well,” 

“Can we see her now?” Prentiss asked from her chair. 

“She’s not awake yet. The anesthesia should wear off in a few hours. Only family can visit right now,”

“Ok,” Reid turned and faced the group, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Thank you for everything,”

“Of course Spence. If you need anything you can call,” JJ said, putting her hand on his shoulder.

Spencer shot her a smile and nodded. He followed the nurse to your room and sat in the chair next to your bed. He studied your face while you slept, You were relaxed and content, the opposite of just hours before. He held your hand in his until you woke up. 

Taglist

@ssebstann @peachyprincessss @emmy-writes-sometimes @teenage-incompetence

[kojinnie]

AOT Characters’ Modern Jobs Headcanon; The Vets Edition!

The jobs that The Vets would have in modern!au, their workplace antics and their back story. There might be some inaccuracies when describing the job as obviously I don’t work at these industries to know its intricacies. Most of the jobs are office jobs. Enjoyyyy!

My Masterlist .::. Pt. II: Zeke Yeager’s Modern Jobs Headcanon   

Most recent work: Dream Me Home (Before Shiganshina) | reader x erwin smith

A/N: I really need to finish a presentation deck due tonight for an early morning meeting tomorrow but of course, this comes first hahaha 

erwin!

A/N: Basically lawyer!erwin is the way to go, innit?

He's in his 40s, so he may have a settled career

He came from a white-collar, middle-class family. So he wasn’t silverspoon-fed, but his parents had enough money to put him through good school

Got a scholarship to go to one of the nation’s finest law schools

Kept it lowkey in college’s social circle, graduated with summa cum laude, developed a strong academic relation with his professor, and got recommended for an internship at top law firm at the capital city

Starting his career as a corporate lawyer, but then built his expertise as white-collar crime attorney

In his early 30s, he represented a union suing against conglomerate corporation in a big case that had national coverage, from then on he began to know his calling

Expanding his portfolio and became well-known for defending workers, consumers and civilians against corporate fraud scheme

Currently doing a lot of pro-bono cases for deprived victims of big corporate fraud. You would see him frequently gracing your local newspaper we love us some socialist king

On the side, he often writes for law journal and fills in as guest professor at local universities for summer courses

Established his own law firm with some of his partners, specializing in white collar crime and labor & employment law

He’s damn accomplished, but never really had any time for self-indulgence. Even after he becomes a household name in the country, with tens of attorneys working under him, his employees would still see him working on New Year’s Eve

He was always attentive to his employees, though. Although he has a very strict, borderline no-life work ethics, he never forces his employees to follow his habit, in fact he despises when his employees works on holidays and can be seen blaming himself for it a bit of a hypocrite but thats ok

He still takes metro to work. He prefers a very lowkey, ordinary lifestyle because he fears if he shows any knack for indulgence, he will be susceptible to gratification from potential enemies or crooked politicians

Definitely a sight to see at the workplace, for he's tall and always oozes a sense of authority in the way he speaks and carries himself generally

His emotional intelligence is top-notch, you would never meet someone who is able to be very objective and calculating, while being kind and compassionate at the same time

His fellow attorneys put a lot for respect for him, and hundreds of applicants come to his considerably small firm every week, because a lot of aspiring attorney find him inspiring to work with

He wasn’t oblivious to his shiny reputation, but he’s trying his hardest to not let the compliments get to his head. Sometimes he doesn’t give himself enough credit for it

Was approached by one of the political party’s committee to run for local senate, but turned it down

basically he’s perfect if you like a man who’s never home for christmas

Hange!

A/N: Ok ok, I really wanna see Paleontologist!Hange because it has always been my fave dream job, but I want Hange to be out and about with people so here it is

Hange is the type to be incredibly good at one thing, that she will dedicate her whole life for that pursuit, but will be awfully oblivious to a whole lot of things (not intentional of course, they just have a very limited attention span) (they wouldn’t know who kanye west is or what tiktok is)

Like Erwin, they came from a middle-class family. While Erwin’s parents might have been teachers, accountants or other common profession, Hange came from a family of academician and researchers

Hange studied Human Geography at uni, but later found passion specifically in its relation to industrialization and urban development

Hange aims to advocate for a better living condition for workforce, and nearby inhabitants of industrialized city detroit would be a beautiful city if only they let hange designed it

Hange is a professor at university, where they also led a non-profit research think-thank that also serves as pressure group for better government policy.

The university that Hange teaches in, is also the uni where Erwin teaches in summer. They’re close-knitted colleagues as they share similar passion. Erwin relies on Hange a lot for some intellectual insights to help his cases  

Hange is relentless in their cause, you may find Hange everywhere! From street protest to a hearing in the government court. They are passionate and will do anything for the cause they believe in

Hange was once hired by the government as an independent consultant for a new housing project, but left because they grew to be frustrated by the government’s bureaucracy and their outward reluctance to follow Hange's recommendation

Hange spends a lot of time overseas, consulting and advocating development in newly industrialized countries

On Hange’s birthday, her fellow researchers surprised them with a ‘pampering day’ where they took them to an optometrist because Hange had been complaining about their eyesight for a YEAR that gave them a lot of migraines, but was always either too busy or too lazy to go

Hange never really considers themselves as working, because they enjoy their job very much. Hange likes to spend months observing a community, talking to people for hours, and trying their best in understanding their problem

Out of so many great qualities that Hange has as a researcher that meets different set of people everyday, prejudice or preconceived judgment is completely absent in Hange’s demeanor and perspective

Hange doesn’t get a lot of free-time, even if they do, they’d wander around the city to do a little observation. But when the weather’s bad and they’re stuck at home with their pet lizard, they would logged into Quora to answer random internet questions

They’re an avid writer for National Geographic, and one time Hange won a pitch to make a documentary about an industrial city project they were working on

After the docu-series got broadcasted, Hange gained a small but passionate and loyal fans on the internet. You could even find a subreddit dedicated for Hange’s works

for real I want to be Hange. I want to have that kind of passion in life

levi!

A/N: I spent a lot of times thinking about Levi’s job in modern!au. Because here’s the thing, either we adopt his unfortunate childhood into its modern!au equivalent, or let’s just recreate his whole upbringing. But I think his personality stems from a specific things he experienced during childhood, so let’s not dismiss that.

Levi came from a struggling working class family. I reckon his parents might have had worked multiple jobs to sustain their living expense. Unfortunately they both passed away when Levi was very little, and left little to no inheritance

Levi’s parents were not close to their extended family, so when they died, Levi was admitted to the system and had to brace several foster families who didn’t really pay attention to him

Little Levi had come to realize that life’s all about survival and so he had been able to fend on for himself since very young age, he never asked for things

His uncle, Kenny, finally won custody over Levi when he was in elementary. Kenny made money from small-scale racketeering here and there. Levi never asked what he did for living, as long as he got food to eat and tuition paid off

Kenny was emotionally absent, but he loved spending time with the oddly quiet little child, teaching him a lot of crafts, from carpentering to how to flay pig’s skin

Levi didn’t really care about getting into college, and thought that he’d probably end up working for his uncle, so he put his bare minimum throughout school, although he was really good with numbers, especially in math, accounting and finance

One time in high school, Levi’s teacher asked him to sign up for the olympiad team, Levi turned it down because he thought that was a rich kid thing

He didn’t even apply for college, and worked odd jobs after high school. Probably working as cashiers or assistant to retail shop’s owner for couple of years, enough for him to afford a cheap studio apartment on his own

One of his bosses came to acknowledge Levi’s talent, and trusted him to handle the company’s accounting

By sheer luck, the company hit it big, and Levi found himself running the day-to-day accounting of mid-sized business with over 300 employees

He made good money already without a college degree, but with a new-found confidence Levi applied for uni, where he chose to study accounting (of course)

Although he was confident with his skills, he understood he needed to widen his horizon and network -- thus uni

Levi was one of the oldest members of his cohort in uni, but graduated with highest distinction

After graduating, with his skills and experience, it wasn’t hard for Levi to score a job at top accounting firm

There, he discovered an interest for forensic accounting, where through audits, analysis and investigation, he basically finds out if a company is doing fraud and embezzlement or not

This is where he came to know and get acquainted with Erwin and Hange (yippie they’re together again)

The firm he works for was assigned to investigate the finances of a troublesome company that had been sued by its workers for a jeopardizing working condition. Erwin was on the case, and Levi helped him with evidences for legal proceeding.

By chance, Erwin introduced Levi to Hange. At first, Levi would find Hange annoying and overtly energized, but after learning the things they have done, Levi grew to appreciate Hange’s passion (and secretly wants to have more of his positive outlook)

Levi is fucking good his job. In short amount of time, he could get a really ideal position in the office. He was almost foolproof, finding even the tiniest bit of discrepancy in his audit. He’d get assigned to the big league case/project.

Although really good at his job, he’s not a social person, especially in his office. He couldn’t understand the lavish lifestyle that finance and banking people often lead. He will only show up to office party if it is really necessary for him to show up (usually to receive some kind of informal awards for, again, being so fucking good) 

He leads a no-bullshit attitude at the office, largely because of his background. He is a self-made man, and is not easy to impress by some young executives from posh school that talk bigger than they can chew

His cold, seemingly dismissive attitude gained him a reputation of being scary, when actually he is very considerate

One of the things he enjoys doing is to actually teach, he really likes when a new kid at the office come to him with none of that pretentious, big talk, and really asks for his guidance. He would love to teach you a thing or two

He would frequently check on his mentee, just to keep up with their development

And he doesn’t take credit too. When his mentee makes a milestone, he believes it’s 100% your work

If you’re his mentee, he probably doesn’t give a crap about your personal life, so don’t expect him to make small talk about that (and don’t ask him about his personal life either). But he really cares about your skill and career development

Same with Erwin, he leads a very ordinary lifestyle. He doesn’t go out often and would rather reading detective novel with his cat on the couch

He likes to spend Sunday at Uncle Kenny’s house, because he finds himself worried about the old man very often. They became close as Levi grew

Overall, Levi is a really kind and caring person if you know how not to push his button

[samnyangie]

Since people liked rsl interview on dps, I’d like to share one of my favourite interview by him. I think it’s one of those rare interview where he wasn’t joking around that much but discuss acting quite seriously haha

So enjoy:DD

(Credit)

____________________________

1990 New York Times

Young Actor's Life Has the Makings of a Movie

by Lynn Mautner

New York Times

May 20, 1990

It would make a good movie. A 15-year-old sophomore at Ridgewood High School is playing the Artful Dodger in the musical ''Oliver'' with the school's theater group, New Players, when he is discovered by a casting agency secretary and whisked off to Broadway and the movies.

That's exactly what happened to Robert Sean Leonard, now 21, and a star of the 1989 film ''Dead Poets Society,'' which received an Oscar for best original screenplay.

''My mother took me to New Players' summer performances when I was 10,'' he said, ''and I loved the camaraderie of people, rehearsing and singing. I began spending more time there, painting signs and moving furniture, and soon became an element of the company, with small roles in 'The Miracle Worker,' 'Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat,' 'Barnum.' ''

Starting as an understudy for three roles at the New York Public Theater (he never got on stage), Mr. Leonard amassed credits that include ''The Beach House'' with George Grizzard for the Circle Repertory Theater, television movies, ''Brighton Beach Memoirs'' and ''Breaking the Code'' on Broadway, plays at the West Bank Cafe on 42d Street and the recent ''When She Danced'' at Playwrights Horizons.

He has just completed a part as Paul Newman's and Joanne Woodward's son in the movie ''Mr. and Mrs. Bridge,'' filmed in Kansas City, to be released in August. ''I age from a 15-year-old Eagle Scout to 22, coming home from World War II with a mustache,'' Mr. Leonard said.

Mr. Leonard, who received a general equivalency diploma when he was 17, lives in New York City and attends Fordham University between performances. Soon to return from the Cannes Film Festival with his fellow actors in ''Dead Poets,'' he is next scheduled to go into rehearsal for the film ''Married to It,'' a romantic comedy.

Q. Do you remember when you decided on an acting career?

A. I never decided to pursue an acting career. It just has happened. I still think it's going to stop and I'll have to get a real job soon, but I'm afraid to question it because if I do, it will disappear.

Q. How do you think your theater experience in high school has helped you?

A. It was a great teaching experience that prepared me in a lot of ways. We did 10 shows in 10 weeks, so there was no time to think about method. It was running for the stage, hoping you'll make it in time for your entrance. In Steven Soderbergh's new book of his diaries when directing the film ''Sex, Lies and Videotape,'' he said that on a film set there should always be a chain of command, but never a chain of respect.

At New Players, those three to four years, everyone was given the same respect. You had to, because you'd be the lead one week and painting sets the next. That's a luxury that is not available in New York, unfortunately, because of the unions. You're an actor and that's it.

Q. Have you taken any acting lessons? Do you recommend them for others?

A. I've taken two classes - a video acting class to help me get from stage to film, with Marty Winkler, currently my manager, and an acting class at H. B. Studios.

Acting classes are tricky. It's like asking someone in therapy if they'd recommend going to a psychiatrist. For some people it's great; for some it's not necessary; for some it's harmful. The best way to learn acting is just to do it.

There's a danger to the classroom, because it's safe, and you can get addicted to it. The clique of people are there, and you might tend to remain with them and never go out on your own. So it can give you the safety net which can eventually strip away your courage to go out and really try. On the other hand, you can get a wonderful teacher who brings out the best in you and gives you the courage to go out and dazzle everybody.

Q. You went from high school to Off Broadway. What were your feelings and fears during your first professional performance?

A. The first time I performed in New York - in ''Sally's Gone, She Left Her Name'' - I played Michael Learned's son. I think I was too young. I wasn't even aware of reasons to be afraid. I was just there for the fun of it. Fresh out of New Players, I knew it to be fun. I've never worried about lines. In ''Brighton Beach'' I should have been tense, because it was Broadway. I was nervous, but not racked - more excited.

Q. What do you enjoy most about acting?

A. The people, and opportunities to learn, to travel, both physically and emotionally. To look at people other than myself and try to figure out what makes them tick.

Olivier said you never play a villain; you play a man considered to be a villain; that you have to justify everything he does first; you have to know that what you are doing is right and find a way to make it right - even murder.

I just played a conceited piano player in ''When She Danced,'' and I had to figure out what would make a person be conceited and make that O.K. with me. I learned where conceit comes from - from confidence and talent.

Worst thing you can do is play someone and judge him at the same time, saying: ''Here I am. I am so conceited.'' First you have to understand why you're that way so that people interpret you as conceited.

Q. Do you consider acting an escape?

A. I don't look at performing as escaping, as really becoming another person and leaving my problems for two hours, so I don't have to deal with me, because I don't become another person. I work, so that when I am working, in a way it is me at my best. I'm not leaving myself; in fact, I'm more focused on myself than ever. I don't become that person, but I fully understand him, fully explore him, as to why he does what he does and justify it.

You can't play a fool to play Bottom, who's the opposite of fool in Shakespeare's ''Midsummer Night's Dream.'' What makes people fools is that they're completely confident in what they're doing. They don't think they're fools; they think they're right on track, which makes them so funny and makes them look like fools.

Q. Who influenced you the most?

A. I have not had one person or experience that stands out that's a turning point. Every step in acting relies heavily on the one before. Everything I've learned colors everything I have known before, and suddenly changes it.

I have learned a little bit from everyone I have known, whether about acting itself, or living and working as an actor. Like a good detective novel, for every clue that is solved, two more appear. Every time I learn something, it opens two other doors. In ''Dead Poets,'' the rooftop scene, where I throw the desk set off, was improvised. Are instincts then a part of acting?

Q. Are there desirable qualities to have as an actor?

A. Concentration, perseverence, lack of inhibitions. There's no room for self-consciousness on stage. Also, there is an element in acting that is not fair. Whatever talent is, part of it can be learned and part can't. There are people that audiences like to watch or don't. In Soderbergh's book, he says that talent plus perseverance will equal luck. But I don't know what talent is; it is beyond definition.

Q. Do you learn by watching other films and plays? Your own? Other people?

A. Sometimes I watch for directing; sometimes for performing. There are lines in ''Dead Poets'' I would do differently, if given the chance. For example, Todd said: ''You talk and people listen to you, Neil. I am not like that.'' I answer, ''Don't you think you could be?'' I think I could have made it clearer. I don't get much from observing strangers, because although I see what they do, I don't know where they're coming from.

Q. What are the main differences between stage and film work?

A. I feel that as an actor, you should start in theater, to learn the process of creating a character, in rehearsal. Film is an arena for people who already know that, because on the set they expect you to know the character inside out.

Film work is harder, because this tangible part has to happen in your head before filming takes place. And it's more solitary. You create your character alone, without the give-and-take of other actors.

Q. What tips would you give young, aspiring actors?

A. Read plays aloud with friends at home; do any work you can do in high school. Hang out with jocks, leatherheads, and see what makes them work. Don't be a theater rat and only talk to actors. Read a lot. You really have to feel it; really want it; then take it. Don't take no for an answer. Seize the day.

___________________________

There’s another one I really want to share as well, I’ll bring it with me at some point:))

[not-reagan]

milf: man i love forests

pairing: deforester boo seungkwan x frat boy mirror demon han jisung (side pairing reagan x rainbow)

genre: crack, strangers to friends to lovers, non-idol au

warnings: cursing, brief supernatural elements, i don’t know if this applies but all lcase, and i listened to christmas music and abba while writing this

word count: 2.7k

authors note: happy birthday @miyuuraiura !! i am so sorry about this monstrosity being your birthday gift but you asked for it so it's your fault entirely. i was gonna include some context on this story for those who are not rainbow and i but actually i don't think i will.

seungkwan did what he could to get by. he loved nature, he really did, but sometimes you have to make moral sacrifices to survive. he was a college kid strapped for cash, and when he saw a sign reading “GET RICH QUICK, INVEST IN DEFORESTATION” in the summer going into his freshmen year, he jumped at the opportunity. sure, he would have rather been a freelance singer, hired for bar-mitzvahs and children's parties, but that job market was flooded at the moment.

jisung, on the other hand, had no care for nature. actually, he didn't care for any human things, apart from “banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches”. he hated quite a bit about earth, the worst of all to him being college. as a demon, he had no reason to attend university, but after he was summoned in the bathroom of a frat house by the school’s power couple; rainbow and reagan, he felt obliged to follow the two around and keep them company.

for seungkwan, his main job rarely required in person work. he usually just chose plots of land to demolish, and sent plans to local managers. the only time he actually had to knock down any trees himself was during his summer break. he has a part time job of course, but it didn't provide him enough cash to survive. for someone with a job as a deforester, he truly did do what he could to save the environment. he joined his schools environmental club, becoming vice president his sophomore year because of his work with them. he kept his job a secret, not even telling his parents where the influx of cash was coming from. he kept a low profile and went through the motions of life. he didn't have much of a social life, with his small amount of friends being from the environmental club.

han jisung found joy in witnessing his professors and fellow students lose their minds over his lack of effort in class. he did the bare minimum and still passed with flying colors. most of all, it angered his seatmate in earth science, who happened to be none other than boo seungkwan. seungkwan was a hard worker in everything he did, particularly in school. he didn't get the best grades, but by no means was he the worst. averaging a steady B+, seungkwan spent most of his nights studying or working, rarely going to parties and enjoying himself only through one person karaoke rooms.

this fact upset jisung. he didn't know why, but seeing seungkwan so tired every day made him feel sad(? jisung wasn't sure what it made him feel. it was an emotion he had never experienced before. rainbow told him it meant he had a crush. to this he threw an empty soda can at them). not to mention seungkwan’s upsetting karaoke addiction, which he knew all about the danger of because of reagan, who spent most of her weekends drunk and singing. jisung didn’t know why he took such a liking to seungkwan. what he did know was that he was ecstatic to find that they would be paired together for a project. a project that required quite a bit of teamwork, and a lot of after school work sessions.

seungkwan liked to think that he didn’t hate anyone. he hated evil people, like hitler and stalin and jyp, but he didn’t really hate anyone besides the worst of the worst. that was until he experienced jisung. he wasn’t sure why jisung always talked to him when he was trying to take notes in class. he especially wasn’t sure why he was so excited to be partnered up together for the project that was worth 25% of their grade. seungkwan was less than happy to have to cooperate with jisung for an extended period of time, and he was not looking forward to letting him into his dorm room, or going anywhere near jisung’s frat house. seungkwan had no idea what he was pushed into.

they planned to meet at the cafe on campus at 5:00 pm after class. seungkwan was less than happy. jisung was thrilled. when jisung arrived seungkwan was sitting at a table drinking an americano and working on an english essay. he wasn't sure how to approach him, slowly walked closer before tapping on his shoulder. seungkwan jolted in his seat.

“jesus fuck jisung. you scared the crap out of me,” seungkwan gasped. jisung’s ears flushed as he brought his hand to the back if his neck.

“sorry,” he started, pausing for a second before starting again, “why don't we get started?”. he swung his bag down to the ground as he took a seat. seungkwan offered a small, non genuine smile before pulling out the project’s guidelines.

“let's try to finish this as quickly as possible. im pretty busy and don't have much time to fool around.” seungkwan said. jisung felt his heart drop. did seungkwan really think that little of him? granted, he always dozed off in class but he got his work done on time and in an orderly fashion. he felt his mind begin to wander. if seungkwan felt this way about him now, how would he feel when he found out that jisung was a demon. would seungkwan start to like him if he knew him better? jisung couldn't figure out why he cared so much about how seungkwan perceived him. he had never had an issue with others opinions of him before, so what made seungkwan so different? for some reason, jisung felt the need to connect with seungkwan. if not for himself, then at least to help him let loose.

after working silently on each of their portions of the projects for 3 hours, jisung finally spoke up. “do you want to maybe come to my party next month? well, it's not my party, it's for rainbow’s birthday. i know you're not one for social interaction but it would be cool to see you there. i’ll give you the details if-”

“i’d love to go,” seungkwan cut off jisung’s rambling. to be honest, he wasn't exactly sure what he was agreeing to, but he knew it would shut jisung up, and seungkwan valued his peace and quiet. part of him also just felt downright bad for the other. he seemed to be trying awfully hard to become friends with seungkwan, and he wouldn’t admit it, seungkwan had started to warm up to the boy. he really wasn’t as much of an issue as he had thought before, and was actually really respectful of seungkwan’s wishes. maybe i’ll give him a chance, seungkwan thought before going back to his work.

over the next month, jisung and seungkwan continued meeting to work on their project. seungkwan was less short with the other, and jisung was still red faced every time seungkwan decided to talk to him, which became quite frequently over the next few weeks. jisung was starting to realize that the feelings he had for seungkwan were not simply platonic, and that he didn’t just want to be friends with him. with the help of rainbow and reagan, he had come to the conclusion that he really, really liked seungkwan, and that he was going to do something about it. remembering that he had invited seungkwan to the party, he devised a plan to not only tell seungkwan about his whole “i’m actually a demon” thing, but also about his true feelings. it wouldn't be easy, but it was what he had to do.

a month later, seungkwan still wasn’t exactly sure why he had agreed to go to jisungs frat house at 9:00 pm on a saturday night. yet there he was, standing on the front porch of a large house, wondering if he should bite the bullet and walk in, or spare himself and leave right then. he didn't get a choice, however, as rainbow and reagan stepped out of the house giggling while clutching onto each other. both stopped in their tracks when they saw seungkwan. the couple and seungkwan stared at each other for a good minute before seungkwan shook himself from his trance.

“hey rainbow!” seungkwan started, “and reagan too. i know we aren’t super close, but jisung invited me and i thought i’d just drop by and wish you a happy birthday.” he passed her a birthday card filled with $50 bucks and then turned to leave. “i’ll leave you guys now. have a great birthday!” before seungkwan could get very far, however, rainbow grabbed him by the arm.

“hey, i’d love if you’d stay! at least go say hi to jisung. i’m sure he’d like to see you,” she said, silently making note to have jisung pay her back for being a great wingwoman.

“he’s probably hiding in the second floor bathroom. if you don't see him in there, just say his name three times in front of the mirror. he’ll appear.” reagan explained. seungkwan thought she was joking. how wrong he was.

following his entrance to the house, he had to refuse not one, not two, but three different people who were looking to give him bottles or cups of something which seungkwan presumed to be various types of alcohol. navigating through the house was difficult, reaching the stairs to the second floor only after running into numerous people borderline fucking on two large couches in the living room, a smoke circle taking place in what seungkwan assumed to be a dining room, and a very aggressive makeout session against a wall. once he finally reached the second floor, he had some difficulty finding the bathroom, accidentally walking in on reagan and rainbow, who had miraculously made it upstairs faster than he had.

“if you don’t stop shitting constantly i am going to break up with you! also, stop taking feet pics! it’s weird!” he heard rainbow shout.

“at least i can eat seafood! how does it make your head hurt? you’re the weakest link! that fucking seafood platter was delicious. and you know what, i’m glad i didn’t have to share it with you!” reagan responded. seungkwan quickly shut the door, not wanting to get involved in whatever drunken argument was going on there. after a bit more searching, he finally stumbled across the right room. knocking first to see if anyone was in there, he entered, and to his surprise, nobody was there. jisung was nowhere to be seen. seungkwan reviewed his options. he could a) leave the party, or b) continue to look around the packed house. but there was another option. he thought about it for a second.

“what's the harm in trying,” seungkwan thought out loud, before staring directly into the mirror.

“han jisung, han jisung, han jisung.”

nothing happened. that's what seungkwan thought, until a minute later the lights in the bathroom flickered off and the mirror began to glow. “what. the. fuck,” seungkwan managed to squeak out before falling backwards into the tub. first a leg emerged, then two arms, and finally the rest of jisung’s body.

“i feel like the genie in aladin every time i have to get into a fucking mirror,” jisung complained before seeing seungkwan toppled over. to that view, he jumped down off the counter and moved to help him up. seungkwan, aside from falling, seemed to be reacting well to the whole situation, at least in the sense that instead of freaking out he seemed to be in a state of shock. jisung took this as a good sign, and lifted the motionless body up onto the toilet seat.

“hey seungkwan, you there?” jisung waved his hand in front of seungkwan's face as he slowly came to his senses.

“what kind of twisted party trick was that?” seungkwan asked, pretty seriously. jisung just laughed.

“you summoned me from the mirror. i’m like a funny version of michael jackson except i'm a demon and not a man in the mirror.” jisung explained. seungkwan just stared. “are you ok kwan? do you want me to get you some water?”

“it was… kind of sick.” seungkwan stated. he didn't know why he wasn't scared. under any other circumstance like this one, he probably would have shit his pants. for some reason he felt comfortable around jisung. he felt warm. he felt seen. it was something he hadn't felt before. that's when he realized. he wondered why it took himself to long to figure it out. he never hated jisung. he just didn't know what to do with the fact that he made him feel special, and that he felt as though he belonged when they were together. it had hit him why he was so nervous the whole night, why he had wanted to make such a good impression, and why he was willing to embarrass himself by calling out jisungs name as opposed to just choosing to go home. it was because he loved him.

“can i tell you something?” both of the boys said at the same time. jisung giggled and seungkwan flushed red. **authors note! bonus starts here**

“you first,” seungkwan offered. he wasn't exactly sure he would be able to make it through a sentence without getting any redder than he already was.

jisung took this opportunity to finally get his true feelings out into the air, “i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-”

“you're rambling again,” seungkwan told him. jisung flushed a dark shade of pink. “it's a habit of yours. i think it's cute actually.” seungkwan wasn't sure where his sudden surge of confidence came from, but he was glad it came. he was standing up now, holding jisungs hands in his. jisungs heart was racing a mile a minute as he looked down at their intertwined hands and them back up, catching seungkwan looking directly at his lips. “can… can i kiss you?” seungkwan stuttered out. jisung couldn't find his words, so he opted to just nod.

when their lips connected, seungkwan could have sworn he heard fireworks. he did later find out that someone was setting off a firework in the back yard, but it was the thought that counted. their lips melted together perfectly, and seungkwan wondered why it took him so long to admit his feelings to himself. he could have been kissing jisung for a month before this.

once they finally parted, seungkwan spoke softly, “i like you too. i think that's pretty obvious now but just in case you didn't know.” jisung had the dumbest, most confused face on, and seungkwan had the brightest smile he'd ever had. seungkwan had rendered jisung speechless, for once in his life. not long after, they started kissing again, content with their emotions and their new relationship.

seungkwan was never one to believe that good things were permanent. he was overdramatic, stubborn, and hated interacting with people outside his small social circle. that was until han jisung came along. he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he could let someone else into his life.

jisung was a simple man. well, not a man, but he was simple nonetheless. he liked banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches. well maybe there was one more thing he liked. he knew for sure he liked boo seungkwan. maybe he loved him. maybe seungkwan even felt the same way.

-fin

**BONUS**

reagan and rainbow leaned up against the door to eavesdrop on their matchmaking work.

“holy shit!” reagan gasped.

“what is it?? tell me what happened. you're hogging up the door!” rainbow hissed.

“our boy is so grown up,” reagan pretended to cry. “put your goddamn ear up here.” rainbow felt her ear connect with the cold door just as jisung confessed his feelings.

“i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-” his next words were cut off on the girls side of the door as reagan squealed.

“shut your mouth! seungkwans saying something!!” rainbow said, obviously annoyed that reagan was obstructing her ability to hear the exchange.

“can… can i kiss you?” they heard seungkwan say. both looked at each other in shock.

“oh. my. god.” was all rainbow could say.

“i think we should give them some alone time,” reagan suggested as she tugged rainbow down the hall.

“i think we need some alone time for ourselves,” rainbow said as reagan pushed her into a random room and locked the door behind them.

[greenninjagal-blog]

Sentence starters: 14, with Roman & Deceit??

Haha, long time, no write! We’re having a pretty poor time right now so I figured a little bit of Roceit would be in Order! Warning: I did not edit this in the slightest. 

Summary: Roman has always been a little curious, but the pastry chef definitely takes the cake on this one. 

Words: 3007

Quick Taglist:  @chelsvans @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3  @musical-nerd18 @never-end1ng-suffering @nonasficcollection @silverflame-wc @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @themultishipperchild @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws  

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing List || Prompt Page (it should also be stated that you don’t need to pick from this prompt page if you don’t want to. Just send me an idea and I’ll do my best :D)

The Point of This is....

“Here, Bite Down on this.” 

Roman has had a lot of weird first meetings. As a kid he liked to wander around the town meeting knew people, which, of course, drove his mother up a wall the first ninety or so times that she had glanced away from him for a second and he had disappeared completely on her. Roman was just a curious type of kid. The first time he had been confused by a couple of workers who were fixing an outlet behind one of the counters at his mothers favorite little shop, and he had just wanted to know what they were doing.

They had told him! Which had been cool. Did you know there were wires all in the walls?! He hadn’t even realized that his mom had been frantically looking for him until she had grabbed his arm in a frantic panic and asked if he was alright, and then don’t you dare wander off again! What if something had happened?! Roman! 

It had happened again anyway, the store clerk had been redressing a mannequin and it had been neat! Then window cleaner, then flower arranger from the flower shop, then the busker outside the Irish themed pub he wasn’t allowed to be near, then the sign flipper at the street corner who taught him to spin one of the smaller signs--

The point was that by the time Roman hit middle school he knew most of the “little people” by name, and they of course knew his. Roman knew that a lot of them called him by his full name because his mother used to scream it when he went missing,-- Roman Alexander Prince, if you don’t get back here right this instant-- but he learned a lot of cool things! 

He could arrange flowers, knew when and where the most dense foot traffic was, knew how to flip signs and draw attention. He could Macgyver his way through most electrical circuits, had the sewers under his town fully mentally mapped out, and knew that if you hit the vending machine behind the laundromat just right, you could get a free snickers bar. 

He liked learning knew things. And for the most part? People liked to teach him.

As he got older, he noticed just how heartbreaking that sort of thing was. When he held the ladder steady for the owner of the Mom-and-Pop grocer while the old man replaced the “N” of the sign, the man had casually mentioned that the last person who asked him how he was doing had been a family man who had stopped coming months ago.

Then the more he looked, the more he had seen it: the when he waved to the woman who worked the bakery her whole face had lit up like he had gifted her the world, when he bought the street performer a water they had almost broken down to tears right there on the street, when he had offered the man sitting alone at the park with his head in his hands a chance to pet his dog, the man had called him a “generous kid” and tossed him five dollars before he left considerably happier than he was when he arrived.

The point-- and yes, Roman did have a point-- the point of all of this, was that Roman liked people. He liked learning things, and he liked hearing the stories that people had to share.

He liked telling those stories.

Which would probably explain how he got here: Mindscape, the ever prestigious school for the gifted. Although “gifted” tended to be a relative term. Roman had met a lot more people here, all his age, who eyed him warily like his smile was something to be scared of.

(”It is!” Remus, his twin had cackled from across the table in the dining hall, as if they didn’t have the same exact face.)

Roman and Remus had gotten in together, both on accident: Remus had crafted an application for Roman, sent it in without Roman’s knowledge, and then hacked the School’s Admissions database and marked the application for acceptance. 

Things should have gone really bad, because Remus hadn’t known that the School President, Thomas Sanders, checks each and every application and when he noticed an application had skipped most of acceptance process he started digging.

Things should have gone really bad then. Like really bad. Like Remus ends up in jail and Roman has to change his name and move countries, really bad.

Instead Thomas Sanders, had sent them both acceptance letters, and Remus was required to work in the IT department without pay and take all the computer application classes. Somewhere in the middle of that Remus had struck up some sort of deal with the cyber defense team where the Mindscape’s tech department spent all school year building their best unhackable code, and in the summer Remus got to take anything and everything he learned that year and try to break it. 

Remus had been winning for two years now. Roman had seen the grown men reduced to tears the moment that Remus’s hands had started flying over the keyboard. 

Again, the point to this-- Roman had been at this boarding school for two years now, barreling his way through the journalism and creative writing classes like they were tissue paper walls. He’s met a lot of people his age, and he’s witnessed a lot of weird quirks about them.

Like how that kid in the library who likes to sleep on top of the bookcases, and Roman had witnessed getting swatted with a broom so many times. He was a gymnast and an acrobat and really freaking flexible-- and he had told Roman to fuck off when he had tried to learn anything more than that. 

Or like that artist who ran the yearbook club took pictures of everything. It had been pretty cute the way the puffball had insisted on taking pictures of the cracks on the side walk, the clouds in the sky, the rainbow made from the refraction of the light through the glass windows. They had called it “catching little pieces of happiness in everyday!” Which was much sweeter than Roman had been anticipating. “Oops! Sorry gotta go, kiddo!” They had said and then they had been gone taking more pictures before Roman could ask anything about them.

Or like that guy from his Civics class who had gotten way too competitive about the trivia game they had played in class. It wasn’t just trivia though: Roman had learned later that he apparently Logan Ackroyd, the Logan Ackroyd, who had won the American chess tournament for three year in a row now. Any game that Logan touched, reportedly, he won. Chess, Checkers, Othello, Jenga, even Tic-Tac-Toe, and he treated them each like a life or death situation.

The point is of this is everyone had a weird quirk about them.

Roman knew that, knows that.

Heck, even Roman had a weird quirk, which apparently was wandering the school halls after classes. And now that includes being dragged into one of those classrooms by the hoodie of his sweatshirt and then immediately having a fork of something shoved in his mouth.

“VIRGIL!” Another voice squawks, followed by a telltale click of a camera taking a photo, but okay, Roman is a little too busy choking on a fork to take in everything.

There is a hand on his back, and one on his chest, holding him surprisingly steady, while he basically dies-- and man, he did not think that he’d be dying at seventeen years old. Who knew that his mother would be right all those times she insisted that his habit of walking around aimlessly was gonna be the death of him? 

There are tears in his eyes by the time he manages an inhale, and someone takes the fork back out of his mouth. The hand on his back is rubbing soothing circles and his lungs flutter weakly, like a butterflies wings.

“Dude,” A voice says boredly. Roman squints up at his attacker-- because yes this was an attack and Roman will forever be scarred by it-- and vaguely recognizes the purple patched up hoodie for the library acrobat. “I said “Bite down on this”, not choke and die on the floor.”

Roman coughs to dislodge the last bit of whatever food just got shoved down his throat.

“Please ignore him,” A smooth voice says, a new voice, and one that sounds exactly like silk on Roman’s ears. “Are you okay?”

The new person, the man who is holding Roman, is, in a word, pretty. Actually, no wait, not pretty; he’s gorgeous. He’s beautiful. He’s Michelangelo’s David come to life, an angel straight from heaven, the God Apollo himself taking a quick break from driving his sun chariot to walk among the mortals--

“Virgil, what did you do!” The breathtaking stranger yelps.

“I didn’t do anything!” The acrobat shoots back, although he looks worried, “I just put the fork in his mouth! Oh shit, dude come on, please don’t tell me you’re allergic to something-- Dee what was in that? I can’t go to jail for killing someone! I just got here!”

There’s another click and a giggle and Roman blinks himself to enough awareness to realize that beside the three of them, there’s also that photography artist and the Logan Ackroyd in the room, also what looks like a cake with three slices cut out of it.

“You aren’t going to jail,” Logan says, although he’s playing on a Nintendo Switch and isn’t paying all that much attention to what’s going on.

“It just a cake,” Dee adds, almost desperately and Roman’s knees really do go weak at that. A pretty man? Using that tone to address Roman? Roman’s surprised he’s still conscious at all. “Are you allergic to eggs? What about Wheat? Milk?”

“Deep breath, kiddos!” The person with the camera suggests, and Roman knows immediately that they are 100% aware that his flushed cheeks and lack of breath are not from an allergy. They take another picture and Roman dies a little more on the inside. 

“Please...don’t let... my brother see that,” Roman coughs one more time, “I’m begging.” 

The artist just laughs and takes another picture.

“No allergies?” The god beside him says and Roman finds him looking absolutely anywhere but at him. 

“No allergies,” Roman confirms, “None at all. It’s all good. And you know I should be--”

“What did you think of it?” The acrobat interrupts. And when Roman just blinks he snaps, “The cake, Princey! Tell Dee that the cake was fine and he can stop banging his head on the table now.”

Roman chances a glance at the man holding him up, and yeah, he could see the faint red marks were he had obviously been hitting his head on something. Unfortunately, said man was also looking at Roman, looking for his answer to the question that was just asked of him and Roman has already forgotten what it was again. 

His eyes were different colors, and that totally reminded Roman of that week in the summer when he hung around the ophthalmologist just outside of town. Roman had looked at a lot of eyes, learned a lot about eyes in that time, but really there was something different about those ones. One was a brilliant bright brown, like hickory and the other was glistening gold. He looked like something straight from a fantasy. 

Roman’s fantasy.

“Hey,” The stranger says softly, “Are you okay, darling?”

And that’s the last thing Roman remembers. 

Because he fainted.

Because the gorgeous, beautiful, ethereal stranger called him “darling” and Roman’s weak gay heart promptly shut off.

He comes to again, just a few minutes later-- long enough that his head is throbbing and his lungs hurt a bit and mere idea of moving sounds exhausting. He’s comfortable just fine where he is.

On the floor.

With his head in the perfect strangers lap.

“There you are,” The man gives him a nervous smile that makes Roman’s mouth dry out. “Do you remember where you are?”

“Heaven?”

Roman has many regrets in his life. Like that time he thought that crawling down the manhole would be fun. Or the weekend he spent hanging out in the courthouse, which had turned out to be incredibly boring. Or that time he brought dog treats to the dog park and ended up get ambushed by like seven dogs at once and broke his arm.

But this....answering that, and immediately hearing that all too familiar cackle that can only belong to Remus? Yeah Roman rates that at the top of Roman’s Regrets.

The stranger bites his lip but he’s grinning all the same. “Apologies. When you fainted we, called the emergency contact on your phone.”

“Remus is not my emergency contact,” Roman grumbles and weakly shuffles his limbs to sit up.

Remus wheezes, from where he’s situated with an arm over the artist and the acrobat respectively. “Like-- Hell! I changed that months ago!” Remus grins, “I wasn’t gonna miss a chance to laugh at you while you get carted away in an ambulance! You only die once Ro! I wanna be there for it!”

“I should have consumed you in the womb.”

“Butcha didn’t!”

“The intention was there.” Roman sways, and he really doesn’t like the way the floor shifts like waves of an ocean.

“Pussy,” Remus tosses out, just for the sake of having the last word. He pulls his arms back from around the other two and fusses with the little artist’s hair. “Alright, brats! That’s my cue to drag my dumbass gay twin away before he faints again. But this was fun! Lets do it again! This time Dee can even let Roman actually fall and crack his head on the floor instead of catching him!”

Roman’s ears burn, and he peeks at Dee with a morbid mortification, “You caught me?”

“Well I was already, holding you up so it wasn’t as much as caught you as you...ah,” there’s a twitch of his lips, “as you fell for me.”

The noise Roman makes is not in any way, shape, or form flattering. 

Remus cackles again.

There’s a click and a giggle, “Sorry kiddo! That was just too good to pass up!” The artist bounces slightly. “You both should definitely come back though! We’d love to have the company!”

“No, we wouldn’t,” the acrobat interjects, and lets out a heavy breath when he’s elbowed by his friend. 

“Yes, we would!” The artist says. “And next time you can even have some of Dee’s pastries!”

“That’s not necessary,” The stranger says quickly, “They aren’t that good--”

“Will you stop lying!” the acrobat says, “You literally got into this prestigious ass school for your pastries, dumbass. They’re good. Accept it already! Geez!”

The stranger rubs his neck and then his cheek, before turning back to Roman. “Perhaps you can be the judge of that then? Darling?” 

Yeah, Roman’s knees are weak again, but he’s stubborn enough that he keeps standing. “I think I’d like that. Although, I can’t say I’m any kind of pastry expert.” 

“We all have our faults, I presume.”

Roman’s heart beats a little faster. “And admittedly I will be a little bit bias.”

“A little bit?”

“Only a smidge,” Roman reports, “I’ve heard that good company can affect the taste of food.”

“You intend to be in good company?”

“If it’s yours I’m sure it will be.”

“Who knew there was a smooth talker under that blush of yours?”

“If you think this was smooth you should see--

Remus claps his hands loudly enough to make the acrobat flinch and Logan in the corner curse in Korean. “Okay yes we get it: You both are gayyyyyy!” Remus exclaims, drawing it out just enough that Roman feels a bit of the Cain Instinct(tm) in him rise up. “But if neither of you are going to start undressing to give the rest of us a show, then we need to go!”

“Remus!” 

“I’m just saying!” Remus shrugs and then hooks an arm around Roman’s neck and pulls him towards the door, “Its not fair to the rest of us, if you keep being a tease!”

“I hope you step on a lego and fall into a pit of sharks.”

Remus messes with his hair, which seems to be his thing right now.

The others in the room call out their goodbyes, and Remus drags Roman away before he can get more than a sloppy wave. Its still embarrassing.

Actually everything that happened was embarrassing, from top to bottom, and there was absolutely no moment were it wasn’t completely mortifying. Not only did he choke on a piece of cake he didn’t even get to taste, but he gay panicked, and then gay fainted, and every second of it was recorded via camera snapshots. And late at night, when Roman is turning it over in his head and screaming into a pillow, he barely notices his phone flashing.

He’s already miserable, because they probably just invited him back to be nice, and he didn’t even know their names. And Remus was still laughing at him for everything, and everything just really sucked. He opens up his phone to check the message, ignoring the way the his screen burns his eyes.

There’s a text message. 

An actual text message.

Stole your number hope you dont mind

Roman can’t breath. The phone in his hand vibrates again.

Oh and your heart. I stole that too. this is a ransom demand.

$40,000 in cash. Or a date to the coffee shop in town.

pls?

this is Dee Ekans btw

The baker?

oh fuck pls tell me this is the right number

roman?

And Roman rolls over and presses his face into a pillow and screams. 

But really the point of all this is that Roman got the number of the cute guy. And maybe a date.

[lezliefaithwade]

A Breath of Fresh Air

The summer after my first year of theatre school, I was sleeping on the living room floor of my cousin's apartment in Toronto, trying to figure out what to do with my life. My cousin had been an actor before he became a quadriplegic in a car accident, and as I unadvisedly bemoaned my unemployment status, he said something like, "Seriously? You're complaining about your life? Don't make me burst a colostomy bag." He was right, of course. I wasn't in a wheelchair, though I did have a stepmother who had rendered me homeless because of her dislike for me. She was always saying things like, "Your hair can't be as ugly as that hat you're wearing." Or simply refusing to invite me to things like Christmas dinner. I always admired people with families. My boyfriend at the time was one of five kids who were always doing things together. Their house was always full of noise and activities. Even as a shiksa, I felt more at home there than with my stepbrothers and sisters, who never lost an opportunity to point out that I was weird. I wanted to stand up to them, but not wanting to cause my father any grief, I held my tongue and sought refuge elsewhere. It occurred to me that perhaps I was using the theatre as an opportunity to say things through characters that I couldn't find the courage to express myself.

The Toronto Star was still open on the kitchen table, and I rummage through the Want Ads, that dirty part of the newspaper near the back where complete strangers will soon become complete assholes in your life by forcing you to work menial jobs in humiliating uniforms for minimum wage.

"Find anything?" my cousin called from the bedroom, where two attendants helped wash and dress him.

"Social services are advertising for camp councilors to work with emotionally challenged kids."

"Oh yeah," He said. "That might suit you."

I'm not sure I knew what he meant but, I was beginning to think I'd outgrown my welcome. My cousin probably would have encouraged me to join the circus if the option had been available. Knowing my living room days were numbered, I thought it best to make an effort and apply.

I had no experience teaching drama—no experience working with kids and no experience going to or working at a camp. Despite all that, I was hired. It's worth noting that it's probably not a good sign if you get a job with no qualifications whatsoever.

My official position was Drama Councillor, and I prided myself that with only a year and half of theatre training behind me, I was well equipped to help others benefit from the wealth of my experience. I imagined myself, Maria Von Trapp, teaching children how to sing while they looked at me adoringly. Somehow, I conveniently blocked out the rebellious early stages she experienced and skipped straight to the good parts. Also, I might add, forgetting about the Nazis and having to climb over a mountain. Still, visions of me biking around camp with a group of happy campers behind me filled me with a sense of self-satisfaction.

As I packed my knapsack with deet and a secret stash of Twinkies, I thought of how only three weeks earlier I'd been in New York walking through Central Park and savoring Cappuccinos at outdoor cafés on Columbus. Now, here I was, ready for something different. The wilderness, I imagined, would be a welcome change—fresh air and loons instead of smog and sirens. I thought smugly about my classmates sweating behind visors at take-out windows shoveling fries into cardboard cups or wrapping sandwiches in tinfoil. Thumbs up to adventure, I told myself. The fact that I'd never once in my life enjoyed the great outdoors didn't factor into my mind. All of this changed with each accumulated minute of the 391 Kilometer drive north.

It was late afternoon when I arrived at the compound. Overcast, sullen, it was a place so secluded you'd need flares to find it. It had that distinct aura of someplace time forgot. A place left behind and neglected. In the brochure, the sun was shining, flowers filled the meadow, and you could practically hear laughter floating off the page. What I was looking at bore more of a resemblance to a situation in a Stephen King novel where camp councilors discover a pack of hungry teenage zombies have lured them to a seemingly idyllic retreat. Situated right in the heart of black fly country, I spent most of my days swatting insects so big they seem Jurassic.

During our orientation, child care workers warned us that children with mental health needs tend to run away - a lot and to keep strict attendance records and all eyes on them at all times. "These kids are resourceful and clever," they cautioned. I couldn't imagine being so determined you'd risk your life by escaping through the woods that surrounded us, but then again, I'd never been around children who weren't allowed cutlery before either

I shared my cabin with three other women with who I had absolutely nothing in common. Delia, a humorless 27-year-old cooking instructor who answered every question with a monosyllabic grunt, Jennifer, a 26-year old tennis instructor with massive blond ringlets who talked so quickly she sounded like a record on high speed, and an older aboriginal woman named Sunny who made us all dream catchers and offered advice about how to heal ourselves on days when we'd feel spent. "Remember, these kids need us," she said while purifying our cabin with sage. As I glanced around my assigned bunk, taking in the spider webs and loose floorboards, I had that sinking feeling that comes when you know you've made a terrible mistake. Before long, I was eating copious amounts of peanut butter on stale bagels amid a never-ending supply of starch. I'm not sure who thought it was a good idea to feed children with challenges like anxiety, depression, hyperactivity, and eating disorders copious amounts of sugar and carbs. It certainly did nothing to help them or me.

On the first day of class, I sat everyone in a circle. "Welcome to drama class," I said with a smile. "Let's begin by sharing with everyone a little bit about ourselves. Anything at all you'd like us to know?" A hand went up.

"I'm Tracy, and I hate my stupid ass brother. He can go straight to hell."

"Okay," I said, "That's a start. Who's next?"

Another hand. "I'm Jonathan, and this place sucks so much I wish it would burn to the ground!"

"Fair enough. Anyone else?"

"I'm Jo. I'm schizophrenic. So sometimes I'm Rachel and Julia. You'll know the difference because Rachel has a British dialect, and Julia talks slang."

"O-kay." I glanced at the social workers who sat on the edge of the room and looked at me with an expression that basically said, "We can't wait to see what you do next."

"Let's write a play," I suggested. "Write anything you want. Once you're happy with the work, I'll shape it into a cohesive piece that we'll rehearse and then present at the end of the season talent showcase."

The kids liked this idea. The showcase was a big deal. It was an opportunity for them to blow off some steam and express themselves to friends and family in a creative way. My only stipulation was not to use profanity. As the weeks passed, I was impressed with how well they all threw themselves into this project—all except Eric, the oldest boy in my 12 to 15-year-olds. Eric often wandered around the rehearsal space, unfocused and sullen.

"Any ideas for your piece?" I ask, checking in to see if I could help.

"I'm thinking," he'd say and then pace.

With three weeks left in the summer, I took my well-deserved week off to decompress. My boyfriend came up from Toronto and drove me to his parent's house at Post and Bayview, where caterers were preparing the tennis courts for an outdoor party. I walked into his mother's living room, and she gasped. "What happened to you?"

I didn't blame her. I hadn't spent much time looking at a mirror the past four weeks, but one glance at the large one in their bathroom told the full story. My hair was ratty; I had scabs on my knees, bruises on my arms and legs, and I was sunburnt. I was wearing a vintage skirt and blouse that was probably more Value Village than vintage and a pair of worn, scuffed purple moccasins; in essence, I was wearing slippers on my feet.

"Please take her to the mall and at least buy her a pair of shoes," his mother said, handing me her credit card and then rushing off to make sure the stuffed alligator would float in the pool. That week I ate my way through rugelach, hamantaschen, brisket, and bagels while his family watched me with awe and disgust.

Back at camp, the smell of burning insect repellent greeted me along with the news that the sailing and tennis instructors were sacked for disorderly conduct. Never mind, I had renewed energy and a sense of purpose. There were costumes and props to make. Sound and lighting effects to create. And we needed to rehearse. It was only a tiny stage somewhere on a remote camp in Northern Ontario, but the excitement was palpable. I was excited. This would be the best talent show ever, and my kids were going to blow the socks off everyone there!!!

"Eric," I said, "How's your piece coming along?"

"I finished it," he mentioned casually

"That's great. Can I see it?"

"I want to surprise you. You're going to love it, though. I promise."

I patted myself on the back. Eric had a breakthrough. All my encouragement and patience had paid off. Perhaps I'd helped him have a developmental breakthrough.

"Can you tell me what it's about?" I asked.

"The Beatles."

"Great. Okay," and left it at that.

Talent Night arrived along with parents and family friends. The lights dimmed, the kids performed, and the audience enthusiastically applauded as each "Mighty Mite" or "Spirit of Paradise" breezed across the stage, acting out skits about fairies and monsters and assorted escapades. Finally, it was Eric's turn. Out he came, looking serious and theatrical. He cleared his throat and addressed the audience.

"This is called, The Beatles Last Recording Session. By, Me."

Three of his closest camp friends filed out and took a space on the stage. The audience was silent.

There was a dramatic pause, then the piece began.

"Fuck you, Ringo,"

"Fuck you, Paul."

"Fuck you, George."

"Well fuck you, John."

Then they bowed and left the stage.

Personally, I thought it was kind of brilliant. Needless to say, I wasn't showered with accolades about my teaching methods or the effect I had on kids. I left there having no catharsis about mental health except that giving people the opportunity to express themselves without censor is probably a lot healthier than insisting they stay quiet. I admired the honesty displayed in the kid's work. If only, I thought to myself, I could be half as brave. Wasn't that what I was spending time and money learning how to do?

A week after being home, I found myself packing, once more, for school in New York. Our term letters had arrived with instructions on where to buy character shoes, leotards, copies of The Children's Hour, and Death of a Salesman. The camp already felt like it was 391 kilometers away - soon to be 659. My father drove me to the train station with my stepmother beside him; she was there, no doubt, to ensure I boarded.

"You going to be okay?" my father asked, giving me a hug and slipping a $50 bill into my pocket.

"She'll be fine." Elsie chimed in. "You don't have to worry about her. Let's go."

But I wanted my father to worry about me. Not all the time and to the exclusion of all else, but certainly the appropriate fatherly amount.

As I settled myself on the train, I watched my stepmother pull from father from the platform to the car and thought of Eric's brilliant play. Under my breath, I whispered the immortal words of the Beatles, "Fuck you."

#stepmother #mental health #children #young people #summer camp

[kaileeandag]

American Girl: Where Are They Now?

I wonder “What did the historical characters do when they grew up?” So,here’s what I think.

Kaya: becomes a famous warrior after inheriting the name Swan Circling. Contracts Yellow Fever in 1804 and passes away soon after, at the age of 50.

Felicity Merriman: becomes owner of her father’s shop when she was 20. Marries Benjamin Davidson at the age of 18, once the war is over. Passes away peacefully in her sleep in 1854, at the age of 89. Via adoption, her descendant is comedian Tommy Davidson.

Elizabeth Cole: becomes a schoolteacher. Is arrested in 1795 and executed for treason in 1796 at the age of 31.

Caroline Abbott: at the age of 25, becomes a ship captain. Passes away in childbirth five years later, leaving her daughter to be raised by her father.

Josefina Montoya: opens her own imports store in 1855 with the help of her nephews. Never has children and never marries, passing away in her sleep in 1900 at the age of 85.

Kirsten Larson: thanks to her teacher Miss Winston, chooses to become a teacher. Later becomes an advocate for better travel conditions for immigrants in honor of her friend Marta. Passes away at the age of 99 in 1943 surrounded by her family.

Cecile Rey: becomes a nurse along with Marie Grace. Passes away in 1930 at the age of 75 due to complications from Pneumonia.

Marie Grace Gardener: works as a nurse along with Cecile. Contracts Yellow Fever in 1872, but survives. Passes away in 1935 at the age of 90 due to Alzheimer’s Disease.

Addy Walker: becomes a schoolteacher. She never has children, but sees her nieces and nephews, as well as her students, as her children. Writes a book called Running In The Night, publishing it in 1917. Passes away in her sleep at the age of 93 in 1948.

Samantha Parkington: thanks to her aunt Cornelia’s influence, she becomes a suffragist. Votes for the first time in the 1924 Presidential election. Also becomes an advocate for open adoption sometime in the 1960s. Marries her rival Eddie Ryland in 1918, with whom she has two daughters, Deborah in 1931 and Sarah in 1941. Passes away at the age of 88 in 1983. 

Nellie O’Malley: speaks out against child labor and advocates for safer work conditions after her adoptive parents Cornelia and Gardner approve of the idea. Is the only one of her siblings to make it to old age, after Jenny passes away in 1930 due to Breast Cancer and Bridget is killed in a car accident in 1920, although her niece survives the accident, and William passes away in 1945 after a sudden heart attack. Appeared on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart in 2000 to discuss her cousin/adoptive sister Samantha’s legacy. Passes away at the age of 105 on September 11, 2001, hours prior to the attacks on the World Trade Center. Nellie’s son Joshua passed away in 1977 at the age of 50 due to Lung Cancer, while her daughter Jennifer (born in 1930) is still living at the age of 90.

Rebecca Rubin: becomes a famous actress, making her speaking debut in the 1933 adaptation of King Kong. Her final on-screen appearance is in the 1997 Kirsten Dunst and Britney Murphy film The Devil’s Arithmetic, playing a Holocaust survivor. Marries classmate Otto Geller and has one child with him, son David in 1931. David becomes an actor himself in the early 1960s, his career spanning 55 years prior to his passing in 2015. Passes away in October 2002 at the age of 97. Considered one of the most prominent Jewish-American actresses of all time.

Kit Kittredge: becomes a reporter in the late 1940s, with her first major article being about Joseph McCarthy’s attempt to purge Communism from the country. She criticizes McCarthy in the article, feeling he is fear mongering. Marries Will Shepherd in 1945 when he returns from combat after the end of World War II. After struggling to have children for close to fourteen years, they adopt twin children Justin and Augusta in 1961. Will and Kit become grandparents when their daughter gives birth to a daughter named Amelia in 1990 and when Justin’s son Skylar and daughter Olivia are born in 1992. Retires from journalism in 2010, but comes out of retirement temporarily following the Ferguson Missouri protests in 2014. Passes away at the age of 94 in 2017.

Will Shepherd: manages to make enough money so that he can bring his family to Cincinnati. Is drafted into the Army following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. He promises to marry a now adult Kit if he returns home safely, a promise he ends up keeping. Upon his return, he attends college, graduating with his degree in History in 1950. Works as a high school History teacher until his retirement in the early 1990s. When he becomes a grandfather, he dotes on his grandchildren, always taking them to the movies when he is able to do so. Passes away on January 4th, 2019, at the age of 103.

Ruthie Smithens: becomes a nurse, being sent overseas to help injured Allied soldiers during the last year of World War II. Marries Stirling Howard prior to him being shipped off to war, having his daughter Heather in 1943 when he is away. Is diagnosed with Breast Cancer in 1978, but survives. Eventually, she passes away in 1995 at the age of 72 due to a lung fungus called Aspergillosis.

Nanea Mitchell: becomes an advocate for the rights of Japanese-Americans following the end of World War II. Marries her friend Lily Suda’s older brother Gene in 1952 and has twin children Thomas and Sarah with him in 1965. Later becomes a Hawaii state senator in 1980, despite her opponent’s efforts to discredit her because of a meeting she had with former Emperor Showa (Hirohito) to discuss peace between America and Japan. Becomes very popular in Japan due to her advocacy for the rights of Japanese-Americans, becoming an honorary citizen of Tokyo in the late 1980s. Meets with double atomic bomb survivor Tsutomu Yamaguchi in 2006. Passes away three days after her 88th birthday, on April 14th, 2020, due to natural causes.

Molly McIntire: becomes a lawyer in 1950. Becomes known in the Chicago area after being asked to defend John Wayne Gacy during his trial. Is shot into the national spotlight after Ron Goldman’s family hires her to work for them during the OJ Simpson trial. Marries Howie Munson in 1950, their marriage lasting for 16 years prior to their divorce in 1966. Molly and Howie move to England in 1963 and after the divorce, Howie moves back to the States, leaving Molly to raise their 2 year old son Austin. Becomes a grandmother when Austin’s wife gives birth to a daughter named Taylor in 1992 and son Richard in 1993. Molly moves back to Illinois in 1976 with a now 11 year old Austin, settling in Chicago. Becomes a United States Senator in 1996 and votes for senator Barack Obama in the 2008 and the 2012 presidential elections.

Emily Bennett: upon her finishing secondary school, attended college in order to become a teacher. Gives birth to a son named Albion on July 4th, 1964, the same day that Molly gives birth to her son Austin. Emily raises Albion as a single mother due to the father abandoning her shortly after her son’s birth. Moves to Chicago in 1983, reuniting with Molly after she moved back to the States. Publishes a series of children’s books about her friendship with Molly starting in 1988. Her grandson Alastair is born on September 14th, 1992. She publishes an autobiography in 2017, appearing on The Daily Show with Trevor Noah to promote it. Alastair drew the cover of the book, which depicts Molly and Emily as children sitting under an oak tree.

Maryellen Larkin: marries classmate Davy Fenstermacher in 1963 following her high school graduation. Her motive is believed to be that she doesn’t want Davy to fight in Vietnam, so she chose to marry him so he wouldn’t be drafted. Their son Thomas is born in 1965 and when Thomas is in 5th grade, Maryellen goes to college in order to get her degree. She becomes a special education teacher, working for 31 years prior to her retirement in 2011. Her choice to allow her students to take part in mainstream classes such as choir confuses her co-workers. However, this becomes the norm following the passing of the Americans With Disabilities Act in 1990. Her granddaughter Vanessa is born in July 1992 and due to her being her only grandchild, she spoils her rotten.

Melody Ellison: attends medical school, earning her medical license in 1983 at the age of 29. Gives birth to her only child Donna Summer Ellison on January 15th, 1992, on what would have been Martin Luther King Jr.’s 63rd birthday. Her daughter was conceived via In-Vitro Fertilization. Adores her only child and her various nieces and nephews. Is going to retire as a doctor in 2022, at the age of 68.

Julie Albright: wants to become a basketball player, but she is unable to due to the WNBA not existing until 1996. Becomes a professional wrestler in 1987 at the age of 21. She marries classmate T.J. Jefferson in 1989, during the few months she had off. Retires temporarily in April 1992 following the birth of her twin children Rachel Tracy Joyce and Damien Thomas Daniel. Her daughter’s middle names come from her aunt Tracy and maternal grandmother Joyce Albright, while Damian’s middle names come from his father and maternal grandfather Daniel Albright. Returns to pro wrestling in 1995, working with World Championship Wrestling (WCW) until its closure in 2001, retiring permanently soon after. When she was away wrestling, her children would stay with her sister Tracy, Tracy’s husband Mike Stenger, and Julie’s nephew Jonah (born 1988) and niece Aubrey (born 1992.) Becomes an advocate for the rights of LGBT individuals after her son Damian comes out as gay in his Junior year of high school and her nephew Jonah comes out in 2006, during his Senior year of high school.

Ivy Ling: works as a special education teacher until 2003, when she becomes a stand up comedian. She says that her primary influence for pursuing a career in stand up was Margaret Cho. Her daughter Julie was born in November 1991 and was named after her best friend Julie. Her daughter even inherited the nickname ‘Alley Oop’ from her honorary aunt.

Let me know what you guys think! This is just what I think happened.

[dumbledamnn]

Party Like It's 1974 (Ch.1)

Characters: Marauders, OCs

Pairings: Remus x fem!OC, Marlene x Dorcus, Lily x James

Word Count: 3810

Warnings: Language

Summary: Kat and Emma go to Hogwarts in 1974 lol

For the workers at Platform 9 ¾, there were only two true days of work a year. The first was in June, a day they like to call the Day of Withdrawal. This is the day when all the menacing adolescent children return to their parents for the summer holiday. Some quick-witted station worker coined this phrase when they noticed all the parents looked as if they had finally succumbed to their separation anxiety while all the kids looked like they could use a butterbeer.

The second falls at the start of September and was dubbed the Day of Frenzy. Though just as many people came in June as they did in September, the latter is significantly more chaotic. The Day of Frenzy is the day that all the incoming students board the Hogwarts Express and take off towards their next year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The frenzy is fueled by the reunions of overjoyed upperclassmen, the nose-blowing cries of parents as they wave goodbye to their babies, and the panic of first-years who simply don’t know what’s going on.

Unfortunately for the platform workers, today is the first of September and the station is filled to the brim with black cloaks and trolley carts. One could barely hear the conductor announce the countdown till take off over the hustle and bustle of students.

Amid the people, a fourth-year meanders through the crowd with her cart. She glances around, hoping to catch a glimpse of a familiar face. There are so many people and the heat is practically rising off the floor. She rolls up her black sleeves and shoves her circle glasses back to the top of her nose.

She is a sweet-looking girl whose entire complexion screams her Irish heritage. Her freckles are like hundreds of dots of color on her otherwise pale skin. Her black hair stands out, tied back in braided pigtails.

She tries again, surveying the crowd as she pushes her cart along. She realizes that driving blindly was a bad idea as she collides with another cart, sending their luggage straight into each other.

“Vidor! Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” The girl rushes to the point of collision. She picks up her owl, poking at it. The bird, Vidor, shakes its feathers and gently shrieks. The girl lets out half a sigh of relief, interrupted by her realization that Vidor wasn’t the only victim of this accident.

“I’m so- wait what the-” She whips around to face the other cart but finds no one at the wheel.

“EMMA!” two voices harmonize in a horrific shriek from behind her. Emma barely flinches as she turns to face her surprisers, a wide grin on her face.

“James! Sirius! Hi!” She tackles them with a bear hug. The two, stand for a second, partially stunned by her hug and partially stunned by her lack of response. Finally, they succumb to her hug, their confused looks mixing in with the joy of seeing an old friend.

“How the hell did you not react to that?” James begins to laugh at the absurdity that is Emma.

She shrugs, finally letting the two breathe.

“My brain, empty, no thought, can’t be surprised cause nothing is going on up there.” The girl points at her head and begins to laugh with James.

“Emma is an enigma. It’s better not to question it.” Sirius slings his arm around Emma’s shoulders, grinning.

“So how are you guys? How was your summer?” Emma looks at the two boys. Her smile is huge and her eyes gleam with excitement. Her expectant looks are met with a bit of hesitation as the two boys look at each other. Were they caught off guard or was that an awkward glance?

A faint “Sonorus” drifts across the crowd before the train conductor’s voice interrupts every conversation in the station.

“Five more minutes till departure! Students, say your goodbyes and board the train!”

“Later then.”James gives a short smile before making his way back over to their converging carts. He wiggles his finger in front of Vidor before pulling his stuff briskly off of Emma’s.

The three walk across the platform, dropping their luggage off at the back of the train. They head to the front, maneuvering through the departing families till they climb the stairs to their next year.

--

The Hogwarts Express smells like candy. It tastes like sugar sticks and pumpkin pasties. It feels like faded velvet and leather briefcases, like an old museum with framed strangers promising a worthwhile trip and nick-nacks whose purpose was lost years ago.

Led by James, the three push through hugs and trunks to get to a row of open carts in the back. Through the foggy glass, you could make out which ones were occupied and which were already full of other eager students.

Cabin A is occupied by Maegen Locke and her Hufflepuff friends. The cart fills with cheers as she reveals a king of clubs. A group of sorrowful first years hands her their Licorice Lace as the cards begin to shuffle themselves.

The practically silent Cabin B is the current reading spot of a Ravenclaw couple. Though they are facing each other, they are too engrossed in their reading to mind each other’s presence.

The Slytherins seem to have claimed Cabins C-F as their territory, each cart filled with bitter hisses and judgemental glares. As they pass, Sirius and Emma make sure to return the favor to each individual.

The next set of carts are home to less noise than the front. Scattered amongst them are pairs of friends or lonely individuals hoping for a friendly face. James breezes past, tossing a quick glance into each window. He is searching for someone. Emma and Sirius trail behind, still mocking the rather irritating Slytherin they had just passed.

James finally halts in front of Cabin M as another announcement fills the train.

“One minute till take-off. Hurry up and board the train! We’ve got places to be people.”

“Feeling rather sassy today, isn’t he?” Sirius chuckles.

“I support him. I would too if I had this job.” Emma gives a sympathetic nod towards the speaker. “Keep on keeping on Mr. Conductor.” Sirius lets out a yelp of laughter.

Suddenly, Cabin M swings open. Two heads at very different heights pop out. The first, and lowest, is a soft and round look boy with blotchy cheeks and fluffy-looking hair. He smiles a very toothy grin at the new company. The second towers above the first, a more defined face decorated with freckles and faded scars. His hair curls down into half circles, matching the slight curve of his pointed nose.

“Hi, guys!” The shorter one bursts into the hallway. He is radiating excitement.

“Hey Pete, Hi Remus.” James ruffles Peter’s hair and enters the cabin, throwing himself down by the door.

“Remus, you got here early? Hey Peter!” Sirius follows after James, also patting Peter on his head like a house cat. Peter is glowing from the affection.

“Hi Peter,” Emma skips the pat but offers a quick hug instead. He is warm and soft like a gentle bear. He scuttles back into the cabin taking his seat between Sirius and James.

“Hi!” Emma’s face flushes ever so slightly after making eye contact with Remus.

“Hey,” His voice is gentle as he motions for her to enter into the cart. “Ready for another year?”

”Hell yeah!”

It’s barely 11 am and Emma’s mouth already hurts from smiling. Her stomach is flipping with excitement in a mix of nervous butterflies and overwhelming joy. Her mouth is producing way more saliva than it normally does.

She takes a seat next to Remus by the window. Outside, the platform, now void of students, is filled with waving parents.

“Last call. If you haven't boarded yet, I swear to God.” The conductor’s voice sharply carries into the cabin. His mood has decreased significantly in the past fifteen minutes.

The boys begin talking about future pranks and first classes while Emma stares out the window. Normally she would be absolutely engrossed in the conversation but something was bothering her. Her eyes darted across the rows of parents, searching for the bother.

Emma has this special skill, a spidey sense of sorts. When it comes to people, she can read them like books. Some people use auras or zodiac signs but nothing is as certain as Emma’s instincts. They were, for better or worse, never wrong.

In all honesty, though, her instincts span farther than just reading people. Directions, decisions, the right places to eat. One time last year, she was the only one not in the mood for pie (something very unusual for her) and she was the only one to avoid food poisoning. All to say, right now, her instincts are telling her that something was missing and she knew exactly what it was.

The train chugs out a burst of air and the wheels begin to squeak.

“Wait a second,” Emma says, turning towards the door of the cabin. “I swear to god if she is late for this.”

The train begins to move, a light chug on the tracks, before screeching to a sudden stop. The group lurches forward at the sudden stall. Outside the cabin and down the hall, a girl boards and begins offering a slew of apologies to the other students.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! That’s my bad. I didn’t mean to.” Emma’s mouth drops as Sirius howls in laughter. Peter’s eyes dart around in slight confusion.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” James cackles as he opens the door to their cabin. He waves his hand towards the girl down the hall.

“James! Hi!” she says before turning towards some glaring Slytherin. “Sorry about that.”

She quickly walks down the hall to Cabin M, rushing into the seat beside Remus before the train picks up speed and shoots down the tracks.

“Kat, I literally called you this morning, I, how? How are you late? Why?” Emma leans over Remus to stare down at her friend. Sirius calms his laughter down while the others wait for a response.

Kat breathes heavily. Her cloak is sagging by her elbows and her brow is furrowed in sweat. The extra time she took to get to the platform might have been used to do her hair. Unfortunately, the rush has made her space buns sag on the side of her head. Loose strands curl around the frame of her face.

“I,” she breathes heavily, “couldn't decide what to wear.”

The boys snicker slightly, but Emma’s face scrunches in even further confusion.

“We have...a uniform?” She questions, glancing down at Kat, who is wearing the same thing as everyone else in the cabin.

“I realized that...an hour too late…” She trails off, glancing around at the boys. She notices they are all stifling smiles at the sheer stupidity of the situation. The Hogwarts Express has never been more than a second late until now. It was almost an impressive feat.

“Oh my god.” Emma lets out a disappointed mom sigh but she can’t stay in character. She starts to laugh, allowing the others to finally break as well.

Kat sighs, still trying to get some oxygen in her lungs before taking off her cloak and shoving it to the corner of the seat. The train is much cooler than the station but the cold September air was not enough to stop the pool of sweat from the run to Platform 9 ¾.

“So, how was everyone’s summer?” Kat asks as the laughter dies down.

“Hung out at James’ for most of the summer.” Sirius pulls out his wand and starts to weave it between his fingers. “I thought I’d get a break from the snoring but alas.”

James punches Sirius in the side, stopping Sirius from laughing at his own joke.

“He helped me with my quidditch training. This year, I’m gonna kick some Hufflepuff ass. Wait, Emma, did you say you were gonna try out this year?”

“Yup! I want to be a beater so I can smack the shit out of everything.” James and Emma high five. Remus giggles but quickly goes back to his nonchalant grin.

“My mum and I went to the Quidditch World Cup.” Peter’s soft and mousy voice fills the pause.

James shoots up in his seat, excitement on his face. “Oh yeah, I heard about that. You were there?”

Peter, motivated by James’ interest, begins to ramble. “I was! Everyone snuck in these things called dissimulators that puffed up colored smoke. It was mad. At first, there weren’t that many people in the crowd but the more colored smoke puffed up, the larger the crowds grew. Then suddenly, halfway through the match, all their dissimulators turned into their wands. It turns out they snuck them in despite the new code. There were so many of them that the guy in charge just quit then and there. It was crazy!”

“Hell yeah! Fuck the system! Idlewind sucked ass. God, I wish I could've seen it.” James raises his fists in a fuck-the-system type of way.

James is the current Gryffindor seeker. He is the best seeker the team has ever seen since the early 1900s. Ever since his first year, he brought the team countless victories making Gryffindor undefeated since 1971.

“What about you Rem?” Sirius nods towards the quiet giant.

“I read a few books. My family and I traveled to Paris for a weekend in May. It was pretty fun. Oh! I forgot.” Remus stands up and snatches a briefcase from the storage above. He flips over the leather flap and starts digging around. He pulls out a stack of Parisian postcards and begins to deal them out to his friends.

The girls almost synchronically say “Awe!”

Sirius lets out a genuinely excited “Nice.” as he inspects the image. “I love muggle things.”

“Anyways, what about you guys?” Remus glances at the two girls sitting beside him as he tucks his briefcase above.

Kat nods her head to Emma as a signal for her to go first.

“Me?” Emma points to herself.

“Yes, you,” Kat says in a mom-ish tone.

“I’m just making sure.”

“Who else would I be-”

“Ladies. Though I love a good catfight, is someone gonna answer the question?” Sirius interjects, finally tucking his postcard into his cloak.

Emma kicks Sirius in the shin. “I’m telling Marlene you said that.” Sirius’s eyes go wide in slight fear as Emma starts to recall her summer.

“My family and I went camping all over Ireland. We took an RV and went everywhere, ending at my Grandparent’s house.”

“Awe that sounds so-” Kat tries to say but Emma wasn’t done.

“And then we got absolutely schwasted with my relatives.”

“O-Oh.”

Emma smiles sincerely and turns to face Kat, ready for her summer wrap-up. However, the rest of the gang is cackling. Sirius’s distracting deep-voiced Hyena laugh almost masks Remus’s sweet giggles. Peter snorts softly while James laughs like a politician. Kat just huffs out air.

After a bit of laughter, Kat finally answers the question.

It is worth mentioning that, though Kat attends Hogwarts, she’s not quite like the others. Besides the fact that she is completely muggle-born, she is from America.

“Um...I went to Arkansas at one point. I think it's a fake place made by the government. We shot fireworks off and it almost hit my brother. Luckily his hearing came back after a few days. Uhh..let me think… I tried to bake cupcakes but I accidentally baked the frosting and iced the cupcakes with the batter. That was a really bad experience…” She trails off, finally looking at her friend’s faces.

The rest of the group just stares at her in complete confusion.

“Yup, sounds about right. Anyways, what classes are you guys hoping to get?” Emma turns back to the rest of the group.

“Genuinely, you two are just- yup okay. I’m hoping to take Astronomy this year.”

The group begins to recall what classes are for fourth years and what teachers they are excited to see. Seamlessly they fall into old patterns of conversation and inside jokes. Their laughter fills the cabin, the reunion of best friends after a far too long break. They are talking and laughing so loudly, they almost miss the Trolley Witch.

“Wait!” Peter yells down the hall. The Trolley Witch slowly pulls the cart back in front of Cabin M.

“What would you lovely bunch like?” She waves her hand over the array of brightly colored candies and chocolates.

Simultaneously, there is a shout for chocolate. Emma and Remus look at each other before chuckling awkwardly.

“Dear God…” Sirius rolls his eyes, smiling “I’ll take one Bertie’s Botts please.”

“Here you go, dear. Anyone else?”

“Do y’all have any like, lollipop type things?” Kat eyes the cart curiously.

“We have acid pops.” The witch’s voice was like honey.

“Oh, that sounds fun, sure I’ll-”

“No!” Emma shouts. “Unless you want a hole burned in your tongue.”

“Okay, literally why would you sell that?” Kat’s face is wide in confusion.

“Why’d you go and spoil the fun?” James laughs while Sirius pouts at the missed opportunity.

The Trolley Witch starts to laugh, a rather haunting contrast to the sweetness of her voice. She rolls the cart away, letting the door shut behind her.

“So Remus, chocolate already? Is it your time of the month?” Sirius nudges Remus’s foot. Remus rolls his eyes and kicks Sirius back. Sirius yelps and grabs his shin.

“If you guys keep kicking me, I’m gonna break a bone.”

“Then stop saying stupid shit.” Emma kicks his other foot, gently but enough to get another yelp.

“And never ask a person if it's their time of the month, That’s just common sense.” Kat rolls her eyes and smirks at Emma who glances back.

“Can’t a man enjoy his chocolate in peace?” Remus shakes his head. He continues to munch on the bar, sporting a look of satisfaction with each bite.

Emma looks outside. The view had changed from the cityscape of London to the rolling hills of Scotland. The sun that was once midway in the sky was now creeping towards the horizon. Has time flown that quickly?

“Have you guys heard from your other roommate this summer?” Kat curiously looks at the other guys. Their faces are completely blank.

“We have another roommate?” James asks as Sirius begins counting the boys in the room.

“Is it not just the four of us?”

“I didn’t notice anyone else for the past three years…” Peter mumbles. Remus just shrugs, too preoccupied with his delicious treat.

“You’re kidding me right?” Kat glances around, hoping for even a hint of a smile. She came up empty.

“You’re telling me there are five students in a room?” James asks.

“Emma, help, my brain is hurting from the dumbass-ery.”

Emma begins to count on her fingers, smiling but also surprised at the ingenuity of the boys.

“Marlene, Dorcus, Lily, Kat, and Me. Five.”

The guys let out a synchronized “Ahh…” as if this was a brand new revelation.

”I suppose we’ll find out when we get there.”

“But Gu-” Kat is interrupted by Emma’s shushing noise. She shakes her head and Kat recedes back in her seat.

The room fills with piercing golden sunlight as the sun tucks itself behind the hills. The setting sun is a marker signaling twenty minutes left in the train ride.

“Oh, I have a question,” Kat asks.

“Yes, Miss Russell. What is your question?” Emma responds in the most McGonagall voice she could muster. It was pretty on point.

“Are y’all still doing that thing?” She glances around.

“Did she just say y’all?” Remus’s face scrunches at the cowboy-ness of the phrase. Emma laughs and Sirius snickers.

“What thing?” James nods back to Kat, acknowledging her question.

“The animal thing, I forgot the word…” Suddenly she is shushed by everyone. She jolts back in her seat. She squints until the memory comes back to her.

“Oh sorry, yeah I forgot… It's a secret.” Kat starts to whisper, glancing out the door’s window. No one passes by.

“It’s more than a secret, it's illegal,” Peter mutters, glancing around nervously. James nudges Peter and gives him an affirming nod. Peter sits up with more confidence than he had before and smiles at Remus.

Remus stares at his empty wrapper.

“Yeah, we’re still doing it,” Sirius says in an almost demanding tone. As if there wasn’t any other answer besides yes. He stares at the sunset outside.

“Of course we’re still doing it.” Emma smiles, and gently pats Remus’s knee, pulling him back from his wrapper into reality. Remus returns the smile and mutters something along the lines of “thanks”.

James chuckles, “Hey it looks like we’re pulling into Hogsmeade.”

Outside, the dark landscape fades into brick buildings with uneven roofs. The buildings, partially obscured by darkness, still glow with a whimsical light. Some have shop titles branded on the front with faded letters while others glisten with a sort of old-fashioned newness.

The train tracks along until it arrives at a long wooden port lined with poles carrying firefly torches. In the middle of the wooden planks stands a rather large and hairy man holding a little kerosine lamp. He waves as the train flashes by him.

“Hagrid!” Emma and Sirius smush their faces against the window while the rest wave furiously behind them. Hagrid recognizes the zealous pack and returns the wave as they speed by.

Finally, the train screeches to a stop. With a final blast from the horn, the doors fling open.

“Students, grab your things and go.”

Suddenly, the train is filled with the same hustle from back at the station. The students snatch their bags from the overhead storage and make their way, single file, to the boardwalk outside. The first years are hurried away with Hagrid while the rest wrap themselves in their cloaks in an attempt to fight the brisk autumn air.

Finally, a rather short professor with an extraordinary mustache begins to direct the students down the road to standing wagons. The wooden wheels are at attention with reigns that lead to nowhere. As the students board, the carts sway from side to side. After the cart is full, it takes off, ricketing full speed down the dirt road towards the castle.

“I’m so excited.” Emma practically jumps onto the cart. Boarding one by one, the group takes in the horseless carriages. Magic was always peculiar but this was astonishing even to those who knew magic like their ABCs. As soon as James sits down next to the others, the carriage starts to trot away towards the castle. It was time to start their next year at Hogwarts.

[ravencromwell]

Minstrels' Mindsets in Hadestown

One of the greatest joys of Working On A Song is how Mitchell's orphaned lyrics grant us possible glimpses of larger world-building beyond our lovers' dyads, and sometimes, even interesting tidbits about the lovers themselves. One of the most intriguing, on both counts, is the several orphaned versions of Epic I. I think, ultimately, the version of Epic I as it stands--showcasing the Hermes and Orpheus relationship, having Orpheus feel his way into this half-forgotten story, was far and away its best incarnation. But! in other versions of Epic, we see Orpheus as communal bard, long before he goes to Hadestown and inspires the workers

Off Broadway began thus, by way of comparison:

Gather round, you vagabonds Picking fruit and hopping freights And anyone who’s wandering Wondering why the winds have changed I’ll sing a song of a love gone wrong Between a mighty king and queen Gather round, I’ll sing the song Of Hades and Persephone

And Orpheus as a communal bard, well holy shit don't that open up some interesting possibilities, mayhap for other minstrels, in other places, also singing this tale?

We're given another mythological tidbit within the book: Orpheus's mother is not merely a muse, but Calliope, the muse of epic poetry. Mitchell writes that she envisions Calliope as both mother who deeply loves her son, and cease-the-day bohemian adventurer who left her son for long periods to seek out her own experiences.

And then, we're given this jewel: Epic I in its infancy, as performed in the Vermont concerts of Hadestown. Meant as an audience mythology refresher for the audience, on Hades and Persephone:

King of diamonds, king of spades! First there was Hades, king of the dirt Miners of mines, diggers of graves They bowed down to Hades who gave them work And they bowed down to Hades who made them sweat Who paid them their wages and set them about Digging and dredging and dragging the depths Of the earth to turn its insides out Singing la la la la la la la . . .

Then came Persephone, Hades’s wife Our Lady of Shadows and Meadows entwined Made to spend half of the days of her life Right alongside of him down in the mine But the other half she could walk in the sun And the sun in turn burned twice as bright Which is where the seasons come from And with them the cycle Of the seed and the sickle The lives of the people And the birds in their flight Singing la la la la la la la . . .

So it was and it might have stayed And the sun came up and the sun went down A circle of fourths, a perfect cadence The serpent’s tail in the serpent’s mouth But the strong will take what they want to take And the weak can only tell the tale And the king began to lay his heavy hand upon the scale What did he want? He wanted Our Lady To have and to hold, not half, but wholly To love him and never to leave him again And as for the seasons, to hell with them! And the earth warmed over in the dead of the winter The stillborn spring lay cold beneath Summer gave a stormy sermon Autumn walked in the wake with a wreath And the people moved like weather patterns Looking for shelter, looking for warmth Helter-skelter the four winds scattered The scavengers over the ravaged earth Singing la la la la la la la

It's immediately apparent why this didn't work, with the much more hopeful, profoundly political Orpheus that emerged as final product of the show's metamorphosis. And yet! it is shockingly, delightfully easy to imagine Orpheus's second and third (and especially! the third where he connects to Hades on a human-to-human level) epics as presented in-show to be in-universe clarion challenges to a class of minstrels who sing a different epic. The darker, more bitter epic that emerged in the Vermont production, where the weak humans can do nothing against the capricious gods.

And it takes but one more tiny leap to imagine Calliope's seize the day attitude being borne of the same sort of fatalistic bleakness that grips Persephone; that, mayhap, just a little further along--or behind--where Orpheus meets Eurydice in this world, Calliope sings the Vermont Epic I, explaining to world-weary travelers just why things have gone so terribly wrong.

And even if you don't want to supposition headcanons around Orpheus and Calliope (why the fuck not; deeply flawed familial relationships are a thing of infinite glory), the very idea of communal minstrels singing of weak people at the mercy of gods grants both the second/third epic and If it's True even more of a thrillingly subversive quality.

If it's True, with lyrics like: I believe if there is still a will then there is still a way and: I believe in us together, more than anyone alone. not only becomes his pinnacle of rage at Hades and his injustices but! at all his fellow poets and minstrels, they with so much communal power, who have said that injustice is the only way: so it has been and so it shall be.

[justasparkwritings]

Codename Cupid: Chapter 11

Previous: Tailing Taehyung 

Pairing: Min Yoongi X OFC

Genre: Angst, Secret AgentAU, AgentAU, Government Agent AU

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of Consensual Sex

Summary: The final part of Suga’s orders are carried out. 

Codename Another Shot at Love Pt. 4

Winter After Graduation

           December and January passed without much to report. That being said, everything that OT7 had planned went swimmingly, with one singular exception.

           The dinner at the Lee estate had sent a wave of insecurity through Euna, which made it easy for Yoongi to feign ignorance when he began, deliberately, to pull away from her.

           The first few weeks after dinner were filled with Yoongi convincing Euna that he was going to stay, that he was all in, that he wanted to be with her. She believed him, and by believing him, started the early drafts of their futures together. He hated the deception, the lies he strung together as easily as breathing, the files and documents charting his deception updated daily by Hoseok.

          Hoseok had the unpleasant task of transcribing all conversation and interactions between marks and members of OT7, his specialized training and exceptional hearing made his job easy. Yoongi was instructed to record everything, except sex or any hooking up that went down. Being in charge of most of the tech, he wielded his glasses and watch, set to record when they were on his person, set to turn off when they couldn’t detect his body heat. He could manually turn them off, a button on his watch near the band allowed him to with ease. He’d only fucked up once or twice, not recording when Cupid spilled important info, which angered Namjoon to no end. They weren’t amateurs, Yoongi should know better. Regardless, everyday Hobi transcribed the conversations between Yoongi and Cupid, adding more to the list and charts of the lies being told.

           “Jun-Seo said that Jimin wanted to send you something, a welcome to the gang, gift,” Euna said over dinner.

           Surprised and pouting, Yoongi responded, “A gift?”

           “Knowing Jun-Seo and Jimin, it’s probably a Dae-Seong voodoo doll,” Euna shrugged.

           “Okay, did they want to drop it off or give it to you?” Yoongi shrugged it off.

           “Jimin wants to have dinner, the four of us,” Euna told him, sipping her wine.

           Nodding again, Yoongi asked, “How do you feel about that?”

           “I would rather not,” Euna said.

           “Then we won’t.”

           “Isn’t it part of being a family?” She asked, unsure what the protocol of a functioning family was.

           “Having dinner? Didn’t we just witness Guadalcanal? You think the troops wanted to hang with the natives after they slaughtered them?” Yoongi scoffed. He hated how docile Cupid was towards her family, always doing what she thought was right, rarely what she wanted.

           “Eh, it wasn’t that bad,” Euna responded.

           “You’re shitting me,” Yoongi’s eyes were wide. “War is not normal, I mean, besides Iraq and Afghanistan, that’s normal.”

           “No, I’m not. We’ve had far worse, that one was honestly, average. At least my mom made it through the entire meal, and no one broke a glass or threw a plate at Dae. They weren’t on their best behavior, but it was better than most meals we share,” Euna informed him.

           “That’s toxic, psychotic, that’s fucking horrifying, Euna. You don’t have to put up with that.” Yoongi took her hand in his while she watched her roll her eyes.

           “Didn’t you know that, though?” She snapped.

           “Know what?”

           “The Lee family, and Lee Enterprises, breeds nothing but toxicity and wages psychological warfare on every member of the inner circle. That’s why no one leaves,” Euna’s temper continued to flare throughout the night, sleeping as far from Yoongi as possible, barely acknowledging him as he slipped from her home the next morning.

           Arriving at work the next day, Yoongi and the OT7 team spent an additional week tracing the longevity of careers at Enterprises, as well as tracking hirings, firings and workers who just disappeared from records.

           “Who’s been there the longest?” Namjoon asked, files scattered across the conference table, writing strewn on the glass between offices. He was growing tired, a sign from the cold he’d acquired running a surveillance mission with their recent acquisition, a trainee ready to be put into the field.

           “Not including the Lee family, that would include a somewhat distant Vanderbilt relative, a Henry Claypoole,” Yoongi said.

           “Not a Korean?” Seokjin asked.

           “No, the Lee’s didn’t rise into prominence until, well, it looks like the late 80s, when they did a market sample and it became apparent that an Asian-American owned company would serve better in the future than another fortune 500 owned by a white family, that and Vietnam had ended and American sentiment towards Asians of all kind was changing,” Namjoon responded.

“Once the Civil Rights Act passed, and the government continued to allow Asians immigrate, opinions were changing.” Yoongi added.

           “It wasn’t that long after Vietnam though,” Seokjin was skeptical.

           “It didn’t go over well, they hadn’t gone public until the early 2000s, so it balanced out. It was pretty hush-hush until the mid 90s when Claypoole died.” Namjoon pulled up the paperwork, passing it to Jin.

           “Still, Vietnam, AIDs, their investors were okay with this?”

           “At the heart of the Lee business model, is a relentless grab for power. They were making ins with the wealthiest families in Asia, Europe, UAE, Middle East and South America. There wasn’t a royal family or billionaire who hadn’t put their money in,” Namjoon told the men.

           Curious, Seokjin asked, “Before it was Lee Enterprises, what was it called?”

           “Claypoole & Lee Enterprises,” Hoseok responded. He’d forged a few older documents with their old insignia and water mark.

           “CLE?” Jin had looked at their old stocks, comparing them to other companies when he was in college. They were a fickle company, always hard to pin down or predict.

           “Yes,” Hoseok answered again.

           “They changed their name?” Jin confirmed.

           “It was a complete rebranding to help with their demographics, but it also made sense once Claypoole was six feet under.” Namjoon replied.

           “The less American, the better?” Jin clarified.

           “Exactly, better for the global image,” Namjoon adjusted his glasses before running a hand through his hair. Dark and quaffed, it fell back into place in gently swoops.

           “Claypoole worked in the bank from day one,” Yoongi addressed the three men.

           “Claypoole was just a figurehead, the original chairman of the board while Lee and his crew ran the company,” Namjoon said.

           “How do their hiring practices measure up?” Hoseok asked, he spent zero time reading and understanding the internal workings of the company unless he has to write in a specific person’s voice.

           “They accept applicants in pools, hiring in spring/summer, train in fall, then reevaluate the following spring. Their classes or cohorts are no more than ten people, with a few exceptions based on the market demands and company growth. Some years, specifically at the beginning of the tech boom, they hired fifty people, other years, six. It is fairly unpredictable,” Namjoon passed around another set of documents.

           “The most tenured staff has been there for thirty years,” Yoongi said sipping his coffee.

           “Yoongi, you haven’t had to sign an NDA?” Hoseok asked.

           “No.”

          “What about retention?”

          “No one talks about retention. It wasn’t in my contract at all, no blind clauses or double language.”

          “Has anyone left in the year you’ve been there?”

          “Not that I’ve seen. No one talks about contracts or negotiation outside of the speculation of what will happen come May.”

          “Their plans for negotiating contracts also vary by years spent, first years going through a level of hell that slowly descends as you work your way up the ladder,” Yoongi informed.

           “Why would they want people to stay?” Hoseok asked.

           “They’re all complicit? They knowingly are committing felonies, so staying means no one can hold it against them?” Yoongi suggested.

           “An entire company of 200 people, all insider trading? All embezzling? That’s inconceivable,” Namjoon was unsure how realistic the possibility was.

           “An entire company, minus one,” Jin whispered.

           “Yoongi, how is our Cupid doing?” Hoseok smirked.

           “She wants to move in,” Yoongi muttered.

           “What?” Seokjin yelled.

           “Yeah, oh, and her clothes have begun to infiltrate my closet,” Yoongi sipped his iced americano, his own making, a product of the espresso machine he had begged Namjoon to buy. The coffee ice cubes, a stupid idea from a pop-up video, had turned Yoongi’s favorite addiction into a godly experience.

           “She wants to move in, with you?” Hoseok was shocked.

           “Fuck off,” Snapped Yoongi.

           “What else?” Namjoon asked.

           “She’s been calling a lot, at random times in the day. She’s got snacks in her apartment for me, like really niche stuff. She bought a thousand-dollar bottle of whiskey for me, bought me a pair of silk pajamas that cost near $550. The worst of it all, and I swear, I swear, she’s developing an impregnation kink.”

           Namjoon and Hoseok laughed, doubling over to hold their sides as they became consumed by the idea.

           “Seriously?” Hoseok gasped.

           “Whatever happened at that dinner has her scared shitless,” Seokjin remained calm, though the shock etched into his ageless features. “She’s never wanted kids.”

           “Which is why it’s concerning,” Yoongi said.

           “You stopped using condoms?” Namjoon dropped the laughter to stare at Yoongi. “Don’t tell me you stopped using-

           Yoongi’s eyes widen, cheeks tinting pink as he blushes. “No, no, that’s how I know she’s developing this, obsession. She very vocally, wants my fucking seed.”

           “Does she ask you not to use one?” Hoseok inquired.

           “Yeah and tells me I can take it off and I don’t need to because she’s on birth control, which she isn’t.”

           “Pull out?” Hoseok suggested.

           “Oh yeah, the second least successful method to avoid pregnancy,” Namjoon laughed again.

           “You can tell her you don’t want STI’s,” Jin offered.

           “She’ll ask if I’m sleeping with other people,” Yoongi had gone through every option, there was no good solution. He pissed off Cupid, or he put himself at risk. Unwanted pregnancy was not how he was going to start off his mid-twenties. Fatherhood was not on the table, especially not with someone he at his core, didn’t love.

           “Are you?” Jin wondered.

           Rolling his eyes, “When would I have the time?”

           “You’ve always been a one partner kind of guy,” Hoseok responded.

           Confusion in his eyes, Yoongi tilted his head. “What does that even mean?”

           “Just that-

           “Yoongi, start distancing yourself, as gradually as possible,” Namjoon redirected.

           “Roger that.”

           It was a cliché, become a horrible partner to get the other person to break up with you so you didn’t have to. It’s even more of a cliché for the person hoping to be dumped to revert back to their pre-relationship behavior in order to get their partner to dislike them, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, that was exactly what Yoongi did. Frankly, he didn’t have to try very hard, though, to get Euna to be hurt by him.

           Introverted in nature, he began by closing himself off to her, cancelling plans, bailing at the last second. He became withholding of sex and general intimacy, being standoffish when she tried to get him to open up, annoyed when she tried to use her wiles against him. He tapped into all the flaws past partners had accused him of and let them run wild.

          It was slow at first, building up Cupid’s resentment towards him, for every step away from her he took, she took three more towards him. Her internet searches became solely based on ways to keep Yoongi, entrapment through a hole in the condom, or preying on him after a night of drinking. She lost all sense of what was acceptable, what was normal, and spun out completely. Cupid tried to track his phone, bought burners to call and catfish him, put extra security in place in his corner of Lee Enterprises to ensure she had eyes on him all day. Paranoia and obsession have no place in a healthy, stable relationship, but Yoongi couldn’t fault her for feeling both towards him.

          The final straw, on Yoongi’s end, was a confrontation the night following Cupid’s weekly family dinner.

          “Why didn’t you come to dinner? Who were you with?” Cupid demanded when she called Yoongi.

          “I told you, I have a deadline and Matthew needs the plans before the market opens on Monday,” Yoongi reminded her.

          “You’re not at work,” She snapped.

          Calmly, Yoongi exhaled, “I’m at my apartment.”

          “Why are you lying to me,” It wasn’t a question, but an accusation.

          “I’m not lying, Euna, I am at home working,” Yoongi answered.

          “Why don’t you ever come to dinner?”

          “You said I didn’t have to, after the first one,” Yoongi reminded her.

          Cupid scoffed, as if that was a true reason. “Jimin’s there, and recently, Dae’s wife has been making an appearance.”

          “I would prefer to not engage with your family unless I have to. It blurs the lines of work and personal –

          “But you’re dating me! You’re fucking me, you’re in love with me.” She rattled off, “Why does my family have to be the problem? What’s really going on?”

          “What do you mean?” Yoongi was already tired of the conversation.

          “You’ve been acting weird for months. You don’t want to sleep with me, you hardly stay over, you’re distant and weird,” Accusation after accusation, Yoongi had made a list himself of what she could potentially throw at him.

          “I have been going through a lot, can’t you understand that?”

          Scoffing again, Cupid responded. “You’ve been going through a lot? What about me?”

          “Euna, I know I’ve been shit, I just-

          “You don’t love me anymore, do you?” Bingo.

          “What?” Yoongi feigned hurt.

          “You’re not denying it,” She snapped.

          “Do you really think that?”

          “Yes, Yoongi, I do. I think you used me to get into good graces with the company so you can move up the ladder. Now that you’ve got some traction, you fucking don’t care about me or our relationship.”

          “That’s crazy! When have I ever shown any sign of wanting to move up the corporate ladder? It wasn’t my idea to fall into bed with you, Euna, your mother set this up,” The angrier he pretended to be, the faster this would be over.

          “Why are you acting like this if you’re still in love with me?” She demanded to know.

          “I told you, works been chaotic and I –

          “If work’s chaotic, why not tell me? I can change that.”

          He held in a laugh, “That would be like nepotism but worse.”

          “Are you saying this to make me feel better?” She asked, voice softening.

          “Euna,” If only she could see him, eyes closed, glasses on his desk, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He was tired. Tired of Euna, tired of working at this company, tired of lying. He didn’t often burn out on missions, but this had taken him to his edge.

          “You don’t want to have sex, you don’t want me in your space, you cancel plans, you never answer my calls. Yoongi, are you cheating on me?”

          “What?”

          “You are, aren’t you?” She could feel the tears breaking through, the resolve of anger she had disappearing.

          Yoongi took a deep breath, knowing she was going to throw up whatever she could until it stuck.

          “Euna, stop,” Yoongi sighed.

          “Then tell me what’s going on,” She whispered.

          He had to say it, he had to otherwise this fight would continue on, resulting in an in person confrontation. “We should break up.”

          The silence on the other end was worse than her screaming at him.

          “What?” Her voice was still soft, a heartbroken whisper.

          “We want really different things, and I don’t know if I can or will ever be able to give you what you need. I’m sorry, Euna, I am,” Yoongi said. He wasn’t a heartbreaker, he loved fiercely and passionately. But Cupid was a mark, plain and simple.

          “Fuck you, Yoongi,” She spit.

          “I’m sorry, Euna,” He laid on the apology.

          “You had my heart,” She sniffled.

          “I know,” He sighed.

          “And you stomped on it, ran it over with an 18-wheeler, and threw it into a blender. Fuck. You.” Cupid was back to anger, coursing through her like lava down the side of Kilauea.

          “I’m sorry,” He repeated.

          “I want my stuff back, and I want you to put in your transfer at Lee Enterprises,” Her voice was fueled by anger and sudden heartache.

          “A what?” Yoongi was shocked.

          “Transfer, you can’t work under me after this,” She had switched to business mode. There was one thing Yoongi had remained impressed by, and that was Cupid’s ability to put the job over everything else, everyone else, not because she had to, because she wanted to.

          “That’s unlawful,” Yoongi warned.

          “I don’t care.”

          “Euna,” He pleased.

          “Transfer, or I will fire you.” An ultimatum, something she never wanted to be faced with.

          “You can’t –

          “Don’t. Test. Me.”

          “Okay, I’ll do it Monday,” Yoongi compromised.

          “You can send my stuff back, I don’t want to see you.” Cupid hung up. In her home, she threw her phone against the wall, watching it rebound onto the carpet before she fell to the floor, tears abounding. How many heartbreaks could she withstand? How many tears would fall at the emotions of another man, breaking her spirit? In some deep recesses of her subconscious, Dae-Seong’s words played through without a scratch. Maybe he’d been right.

          Yoongi texted OT7, who no doubt had already known through the rapid transcription Hobi was almost certainly completing, or through listening to the fight go down. The receipts would show that Yoongi had followed orders as directed, he completed his mission, his mark had been hit. Hook, line and heartbreak. Looking at the calendar, he laughed darkly. Of course, he would break up with her days before Valentine’s Day.

Next: Codename The Mochi of It All

[kaitycole]

The Sighting

Summary: Drake runs into a familiar looking man at the store. Is this man who Drake thinks he is or just some doppelgänger? 

Word Count: 2160

Warnings: Stress, Anger, Mention of deaths, Grief

Part One of Witness Protection.

Tag List: @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @dcbbw @hopefulmoonobject @indiacater @sirbeepsalot @burnsoslow @umccall71 @enmchoices @speedyoperarascalparty @zilch3 @lodberg @annekebbphotography @choicesteamdrake

Drake is mumbling as he walks into the grocery store, not even attempting to hide the scowl that’s on his face. He loves his wife, he really does, but this pregnancy was taking its toll on him.

He shakes his head, still mumbling, “So sick of her using the pregnancy card.” He rolls his eyes, thinking back on how she constantly busted his chops for complaining of a cold yet her is shopping because she was complaining of this pregnancy.

He knows it’s completely different, a cold versus pregnancy but his anger isn’t allowing him to think clearly. His brows still knitted, his looks down at the ridiculous list he was given.

Tuna, pink frosting, pickles, brownies and apple juice. Who the fuck wants any of that at the same time? He takes a deep breath, looking down the aisles for each thing.

“Luke! Luke, watch out!” Drake looks up just in time to stop before a boy collides with his cart.

“I’m so sorry, mister!” The teenager says, but Drake isn’t paying attention. He’s staring at the man who called out to the boy. Something seems familiar about the older man looking at Drake and the younger boy.

No. There’s no way. Everyone has doppelgangers, right?

The older man stares at Drake for a moment before shaking his head, “Luke, we need to get going.” Luke smiles slightly at Drake before running off behind the older man. Drake just stands there, unable to do anything but watch the man and young boy check out and then leave the store.

Finally, after gaining his composure, he quickly picks up the items from his wife’s list and rushes to the cash register.

“Did you find everything you needed?” The young cashier gives Drake an odd expression as she scans his items.

“Pregnant wife.”

“Oh,” she says.

“That man and boy looked familiar, do you know their names?” Drake asks, worried that he sounded stalker-ish.

“Yes! That’s Jackson Walker and Luke, his son.”

He freezes, the names circle around his head, unable to grasps what she’s said, “Walker?”

“Yes. He owns a ranch up here.”

Drake feels himself getting dizzy and he isn’t sure how many more coincidences  he can handle, “Does he shop here often?”

The cashier gives him an odd look.

“I just moved here and I’m looking for work. I have experience as a ranch hand.”

“Oh! Crazy how life works out, like that!” She finishes bagging up Drake’s groceries, “He and Luke come in every Thursday.”

He takes the bags from her and thanks her before walking out of the store. The drive home is a blur, honestly, he’s surprised that he managed not to run any red lights and get a ticket.

  “Drake! Drake? Are you okay? What took so long?” Riley rushes out of the kitchen and towards her husband.

“Yeah. Yeah. Fine,” he walks passed her, placing the bags on the table.

“Drake, you are scaring me. What’s going on?” She follows him to the living room, sitting next to him.

“This is going to sound crazy. But I need you to hear me out,” he waits for her to nod before finishing, “I think I saw my dad and I might have a brother.”

Riley tries to control her facial expressions, not wanting her face to speak for her, “Do you think that this might just have to do with you getting ready to become a dad?”

He shakes his head before he begins pacing around the room. He explains to her the feeling he got when he saw him, the boy, the names the cashier told him and the ranch.

Riley isn’t sure what to say. She wants to believe that this is true. She wants him to have found his father, but why wouldn’t he come forward sooner? Why wouldn’t he have already reached out?

She sees tears begin to fill his eyes, he stops pacing before flopping down next to her, “If that really was my dad, why wasn’t I good enough for him to stay with me?”

“Hey,” she places her hand on his knee to try and give him comfort, “Let’s take this one step at a time.”

He nods, she rests her head on his shoulder as he rubs his hand across her belly. She’s only a few weeks along, hardly even showing, but she loves the tender moments when Drake rubs her stomach.

“Guess Jackson is out of the running for a boy’s name, huh?” Riley says, putting her hand over her mouth just now realizing what she’s said.

Drake answers her with a burst of laughter, “I’d say so.”

“How about we watch a movie to get your mind off things?” Riley gets up, putting in Definitely, Maybe.It’s one of her favorites, Drake usually hates watching it with her because she quotes every single line, but he doesn’t care tonight. Tonight, he zones out and let’s himself think back.

“There ya go. Focus on keeping your balance, I won’t let you fall.” Jackson says, standing next to the horse that Drake is on. It’s only been a few steps, but Jackson beams with pride.

Drake starts to lean too far to the left when he starts falling but Jackson scoops him up quickly. He buries his head into his father’s shoulder.

“I told ya buddy, I wouldn’t let you fall.” Jackson pats his son’s back and using his spare hand to grab the horse’s lead to head back to the barn.

Bianca jumps up as quickly as she can when she sees Jackson carrying a crying Drake, “Oh no! What happened!?”

“He’s fine, Bee.” He tries to calm his wife, “He’s just shaken up, not hurt.”

“Drake, baby, come to Momma.” She reaches out her arms, but he tightens his grip around Jackson’s neck.

“I want Daddy!”

“I promise never to leave you, buddy.”

“Drake? Are you even watching the movie?” Riley calls, dragging him out of his memories.

“Yes, of course!” He barely glances at the TV, the movie is the furthest thing from his mind, “I think I’m going to take a shower.”

She looks up, slightly disappointed, “Oh, okay. Want me to join you?”

He puts his hand up, “No no no. Watch your movie. I just need a few minutes to breathe.”

She watches her husband walk towards their shared bedroom. She knows he has a lot on his plate. Not just with the pregnancy but also with what he thinks he saw at the store.

He turns the shower on, the steam immediately spreads across the glass doors of the shower. Stepping in, he lets the hot water beat down on his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, he lets himself go back to one of the worst days of his life.

He wakes up early that morning, dashing out to the shed behind the cabin. Usually he wakes his dad up, he’s done this every morning for as long as he can remember, but this morning he doesn’t.

It is a summer day, just a few weeks before Drake’s birthday. He’s excited this year, Jackson had made a promise to take him on a weekend long fishing trip; just the two of them. He’s looking through his tacklebox, trying to find his lucky lure. After what feels like forever, he finally finds it and puts it in his backpack.

“Drake! Drake, get in here!” His mother calls, causing him to rush back into the cabin.

“Yeah, Mom?” He’s out of breath from running the long distance, Bianca smiles at how cute he looks with his reddened cheeks.

“Breakfast, mister.” She points to the table where he flops down in the seat.

He rolls his eyes, he doesn’t care about eating breakfast or anything other than the clock reading 3PM so he can have time alone with his dad. Don’t get him wrong, he loves Savannah, but he misses the days where he and his dad just hung out.

He runs over to the palace where he meets up with Liam. Since it’s still a weekday, Liam has classes, but his teacher always lets Drake join in. To her, a child is a child, regardless of rank. Then a guard comes to the door, saying everyone needs to return to their quarters.

The teacher nods, ushering Leo, Liam, and Olivia back to the royal suite of the palace, before long the maids take the children and usher them into the safe room. She then grabs Drake’s hand and runs to the other side of the palace, the place where the workers and help are sent. Drake looks around, scanning for his mother before finally finding her.

“Oh, thank god,” she wraps her arms tightly around both of her children, thanking the teacher for bringing her son to him.

“Where’s Papa?” His brown eyes searching the entire room.

Bianca looks at him sympathetically, “There are some bad people here at the palace, but Papa is going to make sure they don’t hurt anyone.”

Everyone sits in silence, some praying for their loved ones, others just waiting for the lockdown to be over.

After a few hours, a guard comes to the door, letting everyone know the threat is over. Bianca takes her children back to the cabin, waiting for her husband to come back home. Like he always does.

She turns the TV on, hoping the news will have something about the attack on. Drake sits next to the window that faces the pathway his dad will take on his way home.

“We come to you now with coverage at the palace right after what appears to be a terrorist attack. Officials say that the radical group “la Force de Perte” which translates to The Force of Loss broke in, hoping to terminate the monarchy.

“We will now head over to our palace correspondent, Timon, for the latest there. Timon?”

There’s a brief lag, before Timon starts speaking, “Yes, thanks Andre. Like you said, it appears that only “la Force de Perte” was active in the attack. It seems that King Constantine is about to make an announcement,” the camera zooms over to the podium where Constantine stands with his two sons.

“It is with a heavy heart that I must inform Cordonia that she has lost her Queen. Queen Eleanor was seized by the radicals before any of the guards could get to her.” Silence fills the air, a small Prince Liam clings to his brother’s side, sobbing as Crown Prince Leo soothes him while trying to remain stoic.

There’s a knock at the door, bringing Bianca’s attention away from the news. Drake quickly opens the door, “Papa! Papa!”

Bianca rushes up, only for her face to fall and hopes to fade when she sees Bastien and another high-ranking guard.

“Bastien? Where’s Jackson?” Her voice cracks.

“Mrs. Walker, may we come in?”

She nods, moving out of the way, letting the two guards in. They sit at the table, motioning for her to sit down. She pulls Drake into her lap.

“Mrs. Walk—” Bastien stops the other guard before taking over. He knows nothing makes bad news okay, but hearing it from a friendly voice, might help especially with Drake.

“Bee,” Bastien starts but she interrupts him.

“No. No, Bastien. I won’t accept that.” Tears are filling her eyes.

“Bianca. Jackson…he didn’t make it.”

The tears are following harder, she’s squeezing Drake tight.

“He was on his way to guard the royal suite when he heard Queen Eleanor screaming for help. He knew waiting for backup would take too long so he tried to rescue her on his own.” The other guard finishes the story, not that Bianca is paying much attention, “Reports say that he went quickly.”

Her head snaps up, she gently pushes Drake from her lap before she starts straightening up the cabin.

“Bee? Bee? What are you doing?” Bastien walks over, trying to make her stop.      

“It’s a mess. The cabin is a mess. I need to clean it,” the tears still falling, “People are going to start coming over to pay their condolences, the house can’t be a mess.”

“Excuse me, sir?” Drake says to the other guard.

“You can call me Michael, bud.”

“You got the story about my dad wrong,” his eyes fill with large tears, breaking Michael’s heart, “I killed my papa.”

“What do you mean?”

Drake sniffles, “I didn’t wake my papa up this morning. I always do. But I didn’t today, I went looking for a lure for our fishing trip. If I hadn’t gone to the shed and had woken him up, he would still be here.”

Michael picks up the little boy, pulling him close to his chest, “No buddy. This wasn’t your fault. Very bad men hurt your papa. I’m sure he understood you were super excited about your trip.”

“Did he get the bad guys?”

“Yeah, he did. Your dad is a hero, bud.”

[goingtobemoved]

Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus

“Harry James Potter,” Pansy Parkinson articulated in an awe so unnatural that Harry whipped around to see her. As if it wasn’t already surprising for her to pronounce his name, he was dumbfounded to realize that her stupor was directed to a kid wearing a Burger King crown between his two parents. “What—Why does this child has a crown?”

“Oh, that’s a Burger King thing-“

“Burger King?” She shrieked and offered him a bewildered look morphing into a frown. “You are telling me, now, that there is a place called Burger—King and you didn’t think that it was a place we have to go?”

Her manicured hands have punctuated each of her words, she seemed ready to nudge Potter just like a bird will do with their beak. He found no support when he glanced to meet Zabini’s expecting gaze, obviously waiting to watch the further event – and Malfoy was only offering his attention to the street, which had nothing that special.

“I didn’t think you would be interested in a fast-food,” he conceded with a tight smile.

“They give a crown and food?” Parkinson insisted. “Why are we out here if it’s not for that Burger King?”

“We are eating dinner in an hour-“

“I need my crown,” she cut and paced for a few steps, “do I need to steal that boy?”

“You can’t do that!” The Gryffindor interrupted. Since Zabini laughed he supposed it was a joke.

“Pansy, dear,” Malfoy simply joined, “I believe that the place is over there.”

Harry followed the direction the blond’s chin had pointed. Perhaps he underestimated him to not be interested in the events; he probably only wanted to ignore Harry.

“We have time before going back. And if as Potter said – it is a ‘fast-food’ it won’t get us late.”

As crazy it was for Harry—he really was out in muggle London with not only Slytherins but Malfoy. Frankly, the Gryffindor was unsure of his past decision. He came here because he thought he could have the opportunity to have a real talk with Malfoy during his class of Muggle Studies. It was mandatory for wizard who grew without any connection to them.

Their new professor had imagined a ‘better way’ to learn than through simple books; it was a good idea to ask for muggleborns or half-bloods to be in the class and constitute a group to help them understand or working on thesis. Harry liked the idea, but he had hesitated because of his overwhelming popularity.

Until he was reminded that Malfoy would be in that class.

Their assignment was pretty simple. Act as muggle - take the subway to reach a point; buy a mobile; watch and learn and submit their experience in a thesis.

“Isn’t the whole point of learning about Muggles about us understanding and living with them?” Zabini cut before Harry could talk – they seem to like to do that a lot. “It will be more useful to act like them than waiting around to go back.”

As mad it was, they actually get ‘along’. Not exactly on each other good sides but Harry believed that he should let them the benefit of the doubt.

Parkinson had written a letter during summer to apologize about selling him to the Dark Lord – it still isn’t forgiven but her arguments convinced him that she only meant survival. While from Malfoy he got nothing.

Which isn’t a big of a deal. Harry doesn’t care. He doesn’t think about it. Maybe, politeness should have brought a sort of thanks since Harry returned Malfoy’s wand.

It’s true that it hadn’t been returned in proper hands – he didn’t get the opportunity to; but since Malfoys are supposed to be well-mannered and something about examples, he had expected it.

Pensively, he followed the trio and glanced to meet Zabini’s silent gaze. Parkinson has grabbed Malfoy’s arm to walk toward the fast-food.

The tall Slytherin said nothing but stayed not far from Harry, unlike the other two.

It was only the end of their first month back in school. Yet he was already pretty friendly with Parkinson and Zabini; with Malfoy too, if the git didn’t slip away every second.

The Gryffindor didn’t intend to put so much work on that. He only wanted a normal last year at school but Malfoy was always a scratch on his plan, he had slightly changed it.

Harry’s friends had told him he was falling back into his obsession – he wasn’t, but he let them believe he tried to get in touch to be sure Malfoy wouldn’t fall into dark arts again. He only wanted to find back the obnoxious git of the past.

Unlike sixth year, Malfoy was regularly a loner, an exception among every Slytherins at that point. None of them walked alone in a corridor and usually if one wouldn’t go to class, the table would be simply empty. There wasn’t much bullying—certainly thanks to their Headmistress but the animosity was thick.

Especially toward last year Slytherins.

Malfoy never left Parkinson, Zabini, Nott or Greengrass and Millicent alone. Such as they all do. Except for him who seemed to walk over that silent rule.

Harry suspected his friends to not agree on his behaviour; as last time Malfoy received a frantic numbness spell in a leg and fell face first at the last stair, when Zabini had found him with a nose that had bleed he was furious. The Gryffindor had curiously followed them out once Malfoy’s friend has grabbed him to talk outside of the library.

Even with that, Harry had no real chance to talk alone to him. The blond purposely avoided him and find ways to get out of his grasp when they were about to circle him – how many times did he almost fall because his laces were suddenly tied together?

He guessed Malfoy knows that he was eager to talk to him again. It was thanks to the Slytherin that he realized that he wasn’t mute—at the beginning of the year Harry hadn’t heard a word from Malfoy’s mouth in any classes or corridors, even at meals.

Draco Malfoy, late in the night - maybe sharing Harry’s nightly walks, had purposely walked toward the Gryffindor. Harry had briefly thought he was hallucinating but no, his hair just has that ivory look all the time.

The occur had made him happy, a bit hopeful to properly put everything in the past. But he was wrong.

Malfoy did thank Harry about his mother’s trial and the proper state of his wand. Unlike the last years he was now grimly polite and let words hit him without returning the bite; Harry did try to taunt him and almost got a typical snarl in return but it died in Malfoy’s throat.

Harry wished to have some normalcy but a quiet, letting people spit toward him, Malfoy was unprecedentedly unsettling. Hermione – who had got an apologizing letter with the Malfoy’s crest over summer – had told him that perhaps it was his way to mourn and deal with its guilt. Ron also got one, as many others students. Luna hadn’t wanted to share her letter to Harry.

Nobody should accept a jinx in the back.

And as if he didn’t have enough to worry about Malfoy, the wizard was firm in his decision to ignore that Harry also helped and wants to help him. Again.

Simply reporting the subject on things he seemed to be actually thankful - his mother and his wand. He even once thanked him, sadly not sarcastically, the Wizard World.

“Potter,” Parkinson hurried and her finger danced on the counter before the cashier who looked to be appalled by them. “Go on, food.”

The Gryffindor blinked and realized that they had already chose their food. “Same as one of them, I don’t care.”

With a slow nod the worker finished the order, their eyes returned on Malfoy and repeated the same frowned pause on each of them. Harry believed he received a less ‘weirdo’ look.

It wasn’t that surprising. He had expected to see that kind of reaction, especially about the Slytherin trio.

In the street people had stared at them – even when they were properly wearing muggles clothes – but one of the main reasons was Malfoy. Even Harry could imagine if he hadn’t been a wizard and crossed path with him that he wasn’t normal.

The brightness of his hair, the mercury star-like shade of his eyes and his unmistakable royalty posture. He couldn’t pass as a muggle – perhaps latter if he loses whatever was making him that stiff. And now, right here, in the middle of a Burger King he was standing. Even a unicorn at his place couldn’t make Harry compare the amazement of the combination.

Zabini attracted people such as Malfoy but it might be because the way he stared at every car or anything that muggle used for transportation; even asking if they could drive one and if Harry hadn’t been here, he suspected he would have climbed into one. He was always the one who had asked the style of some people.

Parkinson had a ‘minor’ reluctance at the subway. First, she had huffed that they need to go underground for some idiot homework—Harry had told her that subway can be tricky to find the right destination. Then, she practically held herself on the stair’s trail to not go in the subway claiming it was too small and if it was as a train, they shouldn’t do them underground where they couldn’t get out if an accident occurred.

Harry has his hands full. But not one bit of Malfoy.

The blond has silently watched muggles and maybe had listened to the Gryffindor when he received questions; he calmly went in the subway before proposing to Pansy if she would rather walk without a map, she got his seated place and never let go of his hand while he seemed to struggle at finding a good position for his back without a seat; with Zabini he seemed to share the same gaze of interest but never tried or asked anything about it.

“By my hands, here, I crown you as King,” Parkinson declared and solemnly placed the paper crown on the blond. Harry blinked at the event, swallowing a fry. “But I warn you that we share the kingdom,” she specified with a look at Zabini.

Malfoy lingered his neutral gaze on her. “They will quickly follow me, anyway. I won’t guide stupid people,” he replied matter-of-factly. With his friend he was less polite and easily followed back the humour in their group; if the Gryffindor tried to slip in he would be harshly granted with a blank from Malfoy.

Harry worried that he was dreaming about any of this. Probably not what he would imagine if he had died, but it was close to a last trial to determine if he can go to Heaven. And frankly he was even more lost when Zabini laughed over his fries – his own Burger King crown slipping a bit at his chuckles. He couldn’t help but wonder where the pureblood’s status was in all of it.

“What is it, Golden Boy? You’re looking constipated,” the black-haired girl commented before she took a bite of her burger, always with one pinkie raised.

“Cheer Potter, we’re having fun,” Zabini joked. He wasn’t fazed by the frown Harry granted him.

Malfoy distantly stretched his neck, still glued over his food. Harry couldn’t believe they all actually bought kids menus simply for the sake to get those crowns.

“Potter here must be sad to not have his own crown. I cannot believe that’s how you treat our caretaker Pansy.”

“I’m not-“Harry reprimanded a grimace at Parkinson’s mocking coo.

“I gather you deserve one,” she smirked.

He really was the only adult here. Even when Parkinson placed the crown on his head—Harry was still the only mature person in this bloody place.

“Look at him, such a pouty child,” Zabini joined.

“You’re the children,” he replied torn between deciding if they were mocking him or they wanted to ease him with weird Slytherin’s friendly jokes. “Who orders kid menu when we are eighteen?”

“They are offering crowns, Golden Boy-“

“Can you not call me that?”

“And this place is full of people, we are supposed to get knowledge to mix into the Muggle society. Don’t you think that’s useful that we try their local activities?”

Harry blinked at Pansy but he controlled the bemused smile menacing him to break his composure; the sight of the Burger King crown broke whatever seriousness they were trying to build. He was still trying to properly find how to act around those three. Particularly Malfoy; who was still staring at his food like it’s his only friend here.

Not that he didn’t appreciate Parkinson and Zabini.

“I guess you’re right,” Harry admitted. And it had been fun to see the girl finding the cashier to ask for ‘some of those crowns, please’ with her royal tone when they had come in.

“Potter starts to grow fond of us,” Zabini quietly snickered and his gaze didn’t leave Malfoy.

The Gryffindor was bewildered that the blond could take consequent bite of his burger and still look divinely clean. At his next bite a bit of condiment smeared next to his lips – with great calm the blond took his tissue and almost cleaned it. Harry was not certain but by the small distance still visible between Malfoy’s lips and the tissue, he believed that he must have lick it behind the paper.

“He didn’t say otherwise,” Parkinson hummed. Her laugh snapped back Harry’s mind into reality; but he was still unsure on what to say or even what was even the subject.

“What?”

“They madly hope you will take them under your Saint Saviour protection,” Malfoy drawled, sipping on his drink with his silvery eyes on the decoration of the fast food.

Harry’s snort left him without his consent but it was quickly quiet down by the girl’s outraged gasp and the black-toned boy intake of air. By the swift glance the blond offered to Harry, it seemed that he had noticed it.

“I would rather hide a Manticore under my bed than being a Potterhead victim,” Zabini retorted.

“And I have taste.”

“What does that mean?” Harry cracked with a frown but an amused smile held on the end of his lips. “I thought you were interested in famous people Parkinson.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please— maybe this Christmas every wizard will hold a decoration with your head on it, but even with that I would snog Filch and his cat instead of you.”

Harry broke into a small laugh, earning three sceptical gazes on him. He believes he got a hold on how their dynamic worked – taunting and teasing at a certain extent. Parkinson might have thought that he would take the piss for mentioning his status as the new Wizard World symbol; he probably would have if it wasn’t sadly true.

“I wished more people were like you Parkinson, and trust me I never thought I would think this one day,” he proposed as a response, trying to follow their joking tone. But the girl was staring at him like he had grown a new head.

“Ah alright, she broke him already,” Zabini mused and patted his shoulder. “Don’t listen to hear, she is picky and bitchy. You’ll be a catch even without your Golden title.”

“Oh, what are we? He is supposed to be keeping an eye on us and you comfort him.”

“That’s because I have a heart unless you two harpies,” he replied to her with a smirk.

“Brilliant,” Malfoy tiredly commented, playing with the rest of his fries. “The Hufflepuff colour was always a better suit for you.”

His appetite seemed to not have improved since his sixth year. Harry didn’t want to mention it with his friends around, but they should say something about it too.

“I can make any colour works on me.”

“Right, anything ugly works on anybody. Look at Umbridge,” Parkinson snarled and was granted by a small laugh. “Darling, are you full?” She moved her fingers toward Malfoy’s side of food.

He silently returned to eat as he handed the other half to her. Harry squinted at their fingers; he was certain they all had a sort of ink on one of them.

“I believe we will have a great mark,” she continued. “We bought that muggle thing, used the— underground road to hell and we did act as proper muggle.”

“It’s a mobile.”

“Yes, mobile, whatever. A square-like thing.”

“I think it’s for next class,” Harry joined to not contemplate more of the slow movements of Malfoy’s throat. “Muggles use mobiles to communicate; you probably will have to learn how to use it.”

“We should have requested Granger to be on your group,” Parkinson muttered. “You were unhelpful at the mobile shop.”

“I know how it works, I just never got one properly,” he argued, feeling stupid because the three of them still wore that Burger King crown. Even Malfoy.

“I like your makeup,” a small voice interrupted.

Harry glanced to recognize Malfoy quizzically staring at a child holding the border of their table to perch his face up – only his paper crown was completely visible.

The blond didn’t look quite scared but his small glance to Zabini pointed that he didn’t know what to do.

“Thank you,” Parkinson said at last, proposing a small restless smile to the child who still stared at her.

He beamed and moved around, closer to Malfoy who likely wanted the opposite. Harry couldn’t see where his hands were under the table but he hoped he wasn’t going for his wand—though by how Parkinson was leaning they might just be holding each other.

“Your hair are shiny.”

Carefully thinking to not smile or snort out loud, the Gryffindor watched him cocking an eyebrow and staring with not quite wide eyes. A split of a smile appeared on his pale face.

“Yes. Thank you,” Malfoy replied. The boy didn’t leave his space.

Zabini was grinning behind his hand and coughed, bringing relief to Harry who also wanted to laugh.

“I like your crown,” the blond Slytherin commented.

“Am a prince,” he cheekily replied.

Perhaps Malfoy’s patience was running out, but he seemed only intrigued when he looked around the place.

“You sure look like one,” Zabini joined with a bright smile. The boy perked at him and crinkled his eyes with a smile missing some teeth. “A brave and loyal king someday.”

“Thank you!” He hopped closer to the dark-toned teen now. Unlike the rest of the Slytherin he didn’t seem bothered by the proximity of a child. “Your crown is cool too.”

“Why, thank you,” he solemnly nodded as if his judgement was the omnipotent truth. “Glad that our future king agrees.”

The child chuckled but before he could continue, he was lifted in a pair of arms.

“Damian!” A woman gasped and promptly turned to their table, “I am sorry,” she exclaimed a bit out of breath. The boy laughed until she faced him. “I told you to stay around.”

Her child mumbled a sorry and played with her jacket.

“It’s alright,” Harry assured and returned her smile.

“He was pleasant,” Parkinson added.

“Thank you. Now apologize, Damian,” she requested with a frown poorly exaggerated.

It quietly reached them. Zabini made a sign of the hand and smiled. “No big deal. Have a great day, madam.”

They returned her nod before they quietly watched them leaving. Damian peeked over his mother’s shoulder to wave and the Slytherin returned it.

“This kid just came to us?” Parkinson let out. “Because we are pretty?”

“Maybe he is like us and felt it,” her dark-toned friend speculated as he returned his hand to hold his drink.

Harry watched Malfoy still staring at where the small family had disappeared. With a miserable clear of his throat the Gryffindor shifted on his seat and returned at his meal.

“He was quite cute.”

“Oh yes, you like cute little things,” she drawled.

“You are only upset because I’m good with children,” he smartly retorted with a smug pair of eyebrows.

Parkinson huffed. “Everybody would if they had to deal with the same number of steps sister and brothers.”

“How much?” Harry cleared his throat, deciding it was better to not listen to his head. They were a proper distraction from Malfoy’s sudden contemplation.

“Let’s say the whole Wizard World?”

“Piss off, darling,” he cut with a move of the hand, turning to Harry. “Well, some of my step-fathers had kids but so far I was the older, I used to deal with them while they chatted between adults.”

“Shagged.”

“I never thought you would like kids,” the Gryffindor inquired, following Zabini at ignoring Parkinson.

“Yes, well.” He shrugged and looked away.

“We have to go back,” Malfoy interrupted staring at a clock on the wall behind them.

“Bugger.”

“We probably will return here soon, Pans’,” the black-toned Slytherin reminded. “Impatient, are you?”

“It’s better than classes,” she haughtily admitted, standing up.

Harry half-sure it was a lie chuckled, until he realized Malfoy had frozen after he stood up. Following his gaze, he noticed that he was watching muggles cleaning their table and bringing it to a trash can.

“They are cleaning themselves?” Parkinson frowned and looked at her spot.

“At a fast-food, yes,” Harry confirmed and was about to find arguments for them before the three of them quietly put everything on their trays. They only moved when another couple of muggles walked toward the trash can.

The Gryffindor quickly stepped out of his short stupor to follow them. They weren’t so bad after – aren’t they adapting? And he believed they had been harsh to muggles because it had been taught to them in diapers.

“Is the apparating point far from here?” Parkinson wondered to Harry.

“We better take the subway,” he admitted.

“Bollocks,” she growled and stepped to stuck herself between Zabini and Malfoy; who has been moving and stretching his back discreetly.

Harry frowned at the ground and closed the distance between him and the blond, without getting a glance from him.

With a conflicted feeling, they all shared a contact to apparate. By security they all had to hold on their guide – a way for the professor to be sure they don’t ditch each other; which was as much exaggerated as probably a good strategy.

Malfoy hold a good grip on his sleeve, by security again. Parkinson preferred to hold an arm, but she kept some proper distance; at Harry’s conflict Zabini returned his arm around his neck, just like a mate would do, but he had previously joked that a snake choke some people like that.

They weren’t mates but at least they didn’t hold much around each other. It wasn’t exactly awkward, only childish how they acted around each other blatant differences.

Harry believed it would be a familiar occur; if he continued the Muggle Studies and none of them had a problem with him their group will stay the same. Malfoy probably wouldn’t complain to the teacher since he kept a low profile.

He still thinks he will once the Slytherins are safe in their rooms.

“I’m surprised we didn’t cross anyone,” he told after they untangled from him.

“London is big.”

“Yeah, but we are like a dozen of group?” Many students needed the Muggle Studies.

“Oh—Millicent is going to be so jealous of our crowns,” Parkinson mused and even giggled as she settled back her paper crown.

Harry swiftly checked his was still at the top of his head. They really all of them walked in the middle of London with those crowns; even Malfoy who made no sign of taking it off.

“If she didn’t piss off her caretaker and got herself lost,” Zabini replied. “Theo must have tried to sneak away once he saw a library,” he told with a small nudge to the blond.

Malfoy looked at him, only shrugged and returned his attention to the castle—opposite of Harry.

“I think I saw where they apparate,” she whispered and squinted around. “Let’s scare them.”

With a faked sigh the dark-toned Slytherin followed her while Malfoy departed steps later. Obviously hesitating on going alone at the castle.

 “Malfoy.” The wizard paused but his look didn’t show that he wanted to listen. Just as always when it was Harry. Parkinson and Zabini weren’t that far, he tried to be discreet with his next words.

“How is your back?”

“What do you mean?”

He was about to roll his eyes. “Don’t play dumb,” the Gryffindor tried to not be as biting as it could sound, “I saw the jinx hitting your back, yesterday. Sometimes you curve and flinch.”

“I don’t curve my back, and a simple spell has nothing to concern you.”

It has everything to. Harry frowned, still torn to not get anything out of Malfoy except his empty expression.

“You’re stubbornly stupid. You haven’t wait long to sit in that shop.”

“I suppose I don’t have the same stamina as the rest of you,” he politely returned. His eyes were as empty as ever, not even holding any kind of annoyance toward him.

Even when Harry inadvertently glared at his exasperation – he didn’t show any sign of fight. The Gryffindor sharply nudged a finger at the end of Malfoy’s back when he turned around.

The Slytherin jumped, actually left the ground for a split second, with a short yelp; Harry blinked in surprise and would have laugh if the blond didn’t curl up, certainly in pain—if he didn’t put back his blank face when he strode in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” Harry blurted out before he cleared its throat. “I didn’t think it would hurt that much, Malfoy. You should go see Madam Pomfrey.”

Malfoy blinked at him. Right in time, Parkinson called for him to hurry so they can get their Muggle assignment done tonight. “I’m not waiting in the cold,” she explained.

“Goodbye Potter,” Zabini exaggerated his sweet tone that would have amused Harry at the right time.

He has quickly got used of their antics once both sides made efforts. The Gryffindor returned the nod Parkinson directed at him but got not answer from Malfoy when he wished them to do well on the assignment.

Each group had apparated from a different spot which turned to leave Harry all alone not far from the Quidditch stadium; without needed reflexions he strode toward it, seeking to let his frustration out. Even if he wanted to focus on the good points he always returned to the simple fact of no improvement with Malfoy. It shouldn’t bother him that much, he knows, but he couldn’t get that of his head.

The morn Draco Malfoy, letting people tell him that they should hex him on the spot, that he is ungrateful of the pity McGonagall has to let him study here.

With a strong frown – Harry flicked his wand out before the entry of the changing room. His Patronus flooding out and settling with a force, he believed would have seize to amaze him. Perhaps it was because of his unclear anger that he felt it like that.

Gaze fixed on the ornament of the Gryffindor’s changing room; he licked his lips after he found what to say. “Pass the message to Hermione and Ron that I will fly a bit before dinner-“Harry fell speechless when he turned to meet his patronus.

Blinking at the ethereal blue shade he watched it return it back, with a fold of its wings.

“You’re not a stag,” he breathed.

He realized that it was stupid to talk to ‘it’ personally but the hippogriff seemed to catch on his confusion. It fluttered its wings and stretched its neck to prove a point.

His plan was thrown out of the window as he rushed back to the castle, hurrying to find Hermione and Ron.

That wasn’t his patronus – or was it? He knows it could change but he had used it during the summer and the stag had never left him.

He found them busy in the eight years common room. She was comfortably reading a book as Patil chatted, unfazed of her divided attention; while Ron cruelly beat Longbottom at chess.

But he forced them to follow him, properly telling them it wasn’t bad bad but still, a lot of things could happen in the wizard world.

“What is it, mate?” Ron urged and sat on one of the comfy beds of the shared dorm. Hermione watched Harry pacing around, with a patient smile she sat on the box at the end of the bed.

He stopped and turned around, watching their curiosity and indiscreet worry.

“It’s not my patronus anymore.”

“What?”

"I mean—it’s still my patronus, I can cast it but it’s not a stag,” he spurted out with his hands passing through his hair. “It’s not my stag.”

“Your patronus changed?” His friend inquired.

“What is it?” Hermione followed.

“It’s, err, a hippogriff.”

“A hippogriff?” Ron gasped before he thoughtfully frowned. “Why?”

“I don’t know! What if it means something happened? I know it can change but it didn’t after the war, right?” Harry babbled. “Maybe something happened to Sirius and Remus? Or I don’t know something in me?”

“Harry, calm down,” the bushy Gryffindor soothed and stood up to caress his shoulders. “Breathe, alright?” She nodded when he glanced at her at his attempt to follow. “Good. Now, it’s not that bad if you still have your patronus. Plus, you would have known if something has happened to your parents, it can’t change if you don’t know.”

“Why a hippogriff?” Their friend interjected and Harry shared his gaze in disbelief.

“It’s rare,” she commented.

“Yes, but why? I mean it has to connect to Harry—the stag because of your father.”

“And a noble protector, strong and heroic,” Hermione proudly pointed.

“Are you sure it’s a hippogriff? Maybe it’s a winged horse?”

“I know what a hippogriff looks like,” Harry huffed but took out his wand to cast it.

Wings stretched and a firm claw stroke the floor, granting all of their attention.

“That’s a hippogriff,” Ron mumbled leaving the bed to stumble closer. “Perhaps it concerns Buckbeak?”

“Maybe?”

“An animal, even a plausible pet, can’t influence that magic Harry. It comes from you,” she disagreed.

“Alright, then what does that mean? About me?” Harry didn’t need to say more.

“Harry, you’re yourself, only you,” Ron assured but it only peppered him with relief. “Nothing is twisted.”

“Hippogriffs are proud and dangerous creatures. Seeking for respect or else, they would grant you with the same disrespect—probably deadly,” Hermione mused watching the patronus in its majesty. “Fierce defenders though. They are terribly loyal and would be also to death of you if you intend trouble to that per. Capable to recognize things even in their enemies.”

Harry blinked and glanced to Ron who was quiet. Then back to her who seemed to focus on the magic.

“Well?”

“Err,” his friend cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest and shrugged. “You are loyal?”

“Yeah?”

“And proud?” He tried.

“Stags are too,” Hermione turned around to face them. “Confident in their actions and proud of them.”

“Do you know every patronuses?” Ron frowned.

“It’s not that hard.”

“But I’m not the type to seek for respect, right?” Harry told as he stared at the fourth presence. It stared right back. “I mean, sure I grew prouder than I was as a kid but-”

“Hippogriff are prideful gits,” his friend agreed. “It could suit Ferret Face.”

The Gryffindors shared looks but Harry only stayed on Ron.

“You saw how hippogriffs are, they are the same brand of painfully dramatic,” he continued.

With a frown, he turned to his patronus. It would suit Malfoy – it has never occurred him but they are likely the two proudest things in the world. And if the war didn’t prove that he was loyal to his mother then they didn’t share the same one. Did the Slytherin even have a patronus? Most of the student have their because of Harry’s short tutor in fifth year.

“Harry,” Hermione started after the silent has stretched. “Since it didn’t change after the war, it means it happened now or not long ago. Did you cast it before we went back to Hogwarts?”

“Yeah, you saw it. A stag,” he nodded holding the gaze of the tall animal. Now he could picture Malfoy next to it, staring until the animal or the wizard will look away.

“Malfoy,” Ron gasped making Harry turn to him.

“What?”

“Mate,” the ginger pressed with a grimace.

“Harry—a patronus change because of important events or, like your parents or Sirius and Remus, because of love,” the Gryffindor told not quite murmuring the last word.

The hippogriff disappeared in the air while Harry’s hand twitched around his wand; he glanced to Hermione before he returned to the wooden floor. Her face screamed sympathy and carefulness.

“No.”

“Harry, mate, you are obsessed with him for years now,” Ron joined. “And now you want us to befriend him.”

“I didn’t say that!” He argued. “I don’t fancy Malfoy!”

“Come on-“

“No!” Harry exclaimed stepping back and throwing his hands in the air. “You two believe that but I know that I just think he shouldn’t be left alone bullied!”

“He has friends,” the ginger reminded.

“Yeah—well,” the Gryffindor stumbled over his words before he flushed darker, “they are not helping him!”

“You are fancying him a tiny bit, since sixth year probably.”

“No!”

“Why are caring so much to get along with them, then? If you wanted to stop other students to bully them you should talk to them not Malfoy!”

“I tried,” he argued back crossing his arms and glancing at the window.

“ ‘Mione,” Ron whined.

“I never fancied Malfoy and I’m still not!” Harry barked before she could join their friend.

The ginger glanced to Hermione with a pity smile. She only shook her head.

“Oh, Harry.”

[goodnightkisseu]

Time To Heal - Chapter 1

→ pairing: sehun x reader 

→ genre: fluff, angst, struggling musician sehun x rich reader

→ word count: 2,427

→ warnings: none

→ summary: you had your life planned out for you ever since you were a little girl. However, when your friend, Baekhyun, takes you with him to his old hangout, you meet someone, someone you were willing to risk your parents’ criticism to be with. His name was Oh Sehun. But, in the end, what you really should have asked yourself, was if Sehun was ready to face your parents…

→ masterlist // exo masterlist // time to heal masterlist

→ [prologue] [ch.1] [ch.2] [ch.3] [ch.4] [ch.5] [ch.6] [ch.7]

→ updates taglist~: @chanyeolol @meryljill-111192 @sehunscutiepie

note: it took me a little longer than expected to finish up the editing for this first chapter, but it is now complete! I hope that you all enjoy this. The drama is about to start, is anyone ready for it? I’m not even ready for it >_>

Also, please let me know if you would like to be tagged in this story~

- ash <3

Traditions were essential for a family. A tradition didn't have to be grand. One of the ones that you and your parents still kept alive was your weekly dinners. Typically, it would occur on a Sunday, the day that marked the end of the previous week and the beginning of the next. The three of you would meet up, have a nice meal together, usually home-cooked, and talk about your weeks as well as what was to come. It was your way of checking in with each other, to make sure that everything was okay. Your lives didn't cross paths like it used to, and this was an excellent way of staying in touch.

This week, the dinner took place much earlier, on a Thursday evening. Your parents were expected at a prearranged dinner that Sunday. They were to be surrounded by the wealthy handful that made up their inner circle. So, tonight, you arrived at your parents' home, at six like you usually did on dinner nights. You parked your car outside of the large gate that guarded their home, and entered your pin, letting you through. You continued your journey up the many steps that led to the front door, which weaved through the beautiful garden they had completed last year, landing you in front of your old home. You let yourself in as you always did, taking the familiar route back towards the dining room. Your parents were seated, and with a smile, you took your usual seat across from them, ready for the feast before you.

As per usual, the dinner started off with your parents giving you an update on their company. They raved about the line that was slated for the spring and summer season. Apparently, the new designer that they had managed to lure over from one of the other fashion houses was doing a fantastic job at incorporating their own personal style with the core ideas of your family's brand. They always spoke fondly of their business, and honestly, it made sense to you.

Your parents' business was one that your father had built from the ground up. Back in the day, it started at a tiny studio far from the heart of the city, with very little equipment and very few employees. Back then, he was young and extremely inexperienced, but he had drive. He wanted to make a name for himself in the fashion industry, and he did just that. With his charisma and eye for talent, he was able to hire some talented designers, one of which was your mother. The start was rough, but with time, the brand grew rapidly, gaining notoriety for its trendy designs that referenced traditional patterns and practices. They soon outgrew their little studio, and that was the birth of your parents' fashion house. Time made them one of the top brands in the country and ultimately allowed them to mingle with the upper class.

When compared to your parents, your news was not nearly as exciting. It was still something you were proud of, however. Whereas they were busy running a big brand, you worked for a much smaller fashion house. You started there about a year ago, your work focused on style research and marketing studies and tactics. It wasn't a glamorous job by any means. It was not nearly as exciting as a designer's job, making the new line, or even a job making the final outfits. If anything, most would have hated it, and even your parents seemed to find it rather drab. However, this was the path that you had chosen for yourself, the path you decided to walk, and you were going to make the most of it. You were going to reach your goals on your own.

Three years ago, after graduating from college, your parents decided that they wanted to bring you into the company immediately. With your background in marketing and design, they had already made plans for you to be the apprentice for one of the company's designers. Working with them was their way of ensuring that you would learn the necessary skills. In doing so, by learning from experience, they hoped it would set you up to run the company in the future. They had all of this planned out, but not once did they mention this plan to you.

Once they did, you had to find it in yourself to decline their gracious offer. You had never been good at speaking up against your parents. They had raised you to be agreeable, and you were also naturally like that by nature. You never made a fuss, but even you knew that this was the right time to stand up for yourself. Much like your father who earned his merit by doing something many had thought was impossible, you also wanted to work your way up. You were a hard worker, and you were no stranger to putting in extra time to do well. You wanted to do this for your career so that you wouldn't take anything that your parents built for granted.

Unsurprisingly, your parents didn't understand your initial hesitance. To them, they were providing an opportunity of a lifetime. Still, you refused to earn your position through nepotism. And though it scared you to finally take a stand for yourself, you did. You explained to them what you wanted, what you had planned. Though they weren't particularly thrilled as this set them back on some of their plans, your father understood why you wanted to do it. They couldn't fault you for wanting to work hard... even if it meant they had to listen to these dry stories in the meantime.

When the standard line of topics ran their course, you expected that the three of you would continue to eat in silence as you always did. Once you finished, you would thank them and leave for the evening. Yet, what your mother asked you after the topic of current trends came to an end, was unexpected. "So dear, when do we get to meet him?"

Though you tried not to be wholly overrun with shock, you knew that surprise colored your features, far more than you wanted it to. "Meet whom, mother?" you inquired, sending the question right back at your mother. This line of questioning made you uneasy, and instead of taking a defensive ground from the start, you decided to feign innocence. With your luck, this question wouldn't lead anywhere. But if you were unlucky... you had to leave yourself some room.

Though you had worked hard to conceal your relationship with Sehun from your parents, it wasn't out of shame for him. You wanted him to meet your parents. You desired to show them how proud you were of him, to let them know how well the two of you matched as a couple. Yet, you also needed to do it when your parents had enough respect for you to be okay with your decisions. At this point in time, they still treated you like a child, one that didn't know any better. If you brought Sehun around now, it would have been like throwing him into the lion's den with no means of defending himself. You knew that you were an adult, that Sehun was an adult, but even so, he would have a hard time with your parents. Particularly, with his background.

Given the success of your family's business, it was expected that they ran in rather elite social circles. As you grew up with an above-average life, one that you were well aware skewed your perception of things at an early age, it also meant that your parents had certain... expectations for any man who you would date and possibly marry. Your parents required that he be from a renowned family. They preferred that this person have a business that they were set to inherit. If he didn't have that, he should at least have the know-how to start his own company. Yet, if none of these were possible, they expected, at a bare minimum, that he be working at a firm that allowed him to climb the ladder. They wanted to see drive and determination at work, the urge to make something out of their life.

In all honesty, in almost every way, Sehun was the complete opposite of what your parents wanted. His family wasn't well off. They were an average household trying to make enough to stay afloat. He wasn't set to inherit anything. His band was attempting to make their big break, hoping that a record label would sign them. And lastly, his job at the record store wasn't exactly earning him the big bucks, nor could he really climb the ladder there.

Still, even if he failed in almost every requirement that your parents had, he cared for you immensely. All throughout college, you had been worried about dating. You knew precisely how your parents would react to each guy you found attractive or had a connection with, and you couldn't bring yourself to put either of you through that emotional experience. Even so, Sehun managed to dive right past those worries. Sehun, just by being himself, by showing you great kindness, care, and love, allowed you to open up. He was special to you. This was exactly why the timing of revealing your relationship was so important.

"Sweetie, we are well aware that you're seeing someone. We've caught you glimpsing at your phone with the fondest look on your face. It's not Baekhyun that you're fawning over. He comes over frequently, and we've never seen you make those expressions towards him," your mother pointed out, her keen eyes noticing how your posture seemed to stiffen in response.

Truthfully, you were surprised that your mother even picked up on how different your interactions were with Baekhyun in comparison to the mystery person on your phone. You and Baekhyun were close, and you had hoped that your closeness would mask any telltale signs that you were dating someone. Apparently, you had let it slip.

"It's not a special someone," you replied, reassuringly. "It's a new friend from work. We have a group chat, and they sometimes say silly things." You had always been a terrible liar, but you were inwardly hoping that it was passable this time.

"Dear, what have we told you about lying. You've never been very good at it," your father said flatly. Well, there went all of your hopes that this was going to stop. "It seems like you're hiding this boyfriend of yours. Is there a particular reason you feel the need for us not to meet? You're not dating some hooligan, right?"

'No matter what I say, you would think he was a hooligan. Sehun's the sweetest man I've ever met though,' you thought to yourself. "I wouldn't say that I'm hiding him. I'm cautious. Our relationship is still in the early stages, and I want to make sure that we're more committed before the three of you meet," you explained. You knew that you couldn't hide your relationship anymore, but you were going to try and postpone this meeting for as long as you could. Nine months wasn't a short amount of time to be together, but it still wasn't enough time to prepare your boyfriend for your parents.

"Just because the relationship is in its early stages, it doesn't mean that we shouldn't meet. How do you know that we won't like your boyfriend?" your father pointed out before continuing. "Unless you already know that we wouldn't approve of him. And if that's the case, if you can't seem to pick a quality significant other, maybe we should look into arranging your marriage again."

You did your best to control your displeasure at the mention of an arranged marriage. As of your third year of college, they decided that it was time you got serious about your future. Without really asking you, they put together dates with the sons of their business partners. You willingly went on these dates, but you never felt a spark for any of these men. They had interests that didn't overlap with yours, and some were just uninterested in you as a whole. When you started dating Sehun, you had made the excuse that you wanted to focus on your career for the time being, that handling a relationship and work from the beginning was going to be difficult. Your parents agreed as none of the boys were a match at the time. But the fact that they wanted to meet Sehun now, and the fact that your father brought up an arranged marriage, it meant that they had started looking for someone behind your back. That bothered you greatly.

"We've talked to some very nice young men about you recently. They feel like they would suit you. Perhaps one of them would be a better fit for you and for the family if you are unsure about the one that you are currently seeing," your mother pointed out, confirming your suspicions. You knew that being the daughter of a wealthy family meant that you had few freedoms, but this felt like it was too much.  

Your mind raced to find some sort of excuse. You honestly thought that your parents would love Sehun if they could get over the fact that he didn't meet any of their criteria. But to soften them up, you needed time. You thought about asking for it, but you could already see it in your parents' eyes. They weren't going to take another excuse from you. Fate was telling you it was now or never, and you had never hated fate so much before.

"If you think this boy is the one, then we should meet him. Why don't you bring him by next week, for our usual dinner? It will be an excellent way for us to get to know him. I expect no other excuses. That's that," your mother said, putting an end to the topic.

The remaining dinner chatter had been sparse, and you found yourself leaving not long after. Your steps out to your car were slow, your mind still racing at how the topic of your love life got so out of control. On the entire way back, even after you were already in bed for the evening, all you could think about was Sehun. How were you supposed to prepare him for the worst and most challenging moment of his life?