#senior researcher questioning her work ethic

[love-and-deepspace-wiki]

Surrounding Characters: Dr. Carter

Age: Unknown

Occupation: scientific researcher

Workplace: Xander Sciences (a research institute)

Education:

Skyhaven University Medical School

Dropped out, did not get his doctorate

(Important Clarification Note: Both MDs and PhDs are specific types of doctorate degrees! MD means "Doctor of Medicine" and is a professional doctorate degree. PhD means "Doctor of Philosophy" and is a research-oriented doctorate degree.)

Details:

Is often referred to as "Dr. Carter", despite not completing his doctorate degree

Speaks about conquering death with an almost religious fervor

Speculation: Possibly religious (based on numerous references to "God" and "God's mission")

Attended Skyhaven University’s Medical School while Zayne was also a student

While in medical school, was Zayne's senior and labmate

Outperformed Zayne in the theoretical model of this research back in school (though his application of it never went as smoothly)

Desperately wanted to know what Zayne discovered, why he intentionally destroyed his contribution, and then stopped researching it

After Zayne abandoned it, brought their joint Medical School project to Xander Sciences under the name "X-Heart”

Relationship with Zayne:

They disagreed on the ethics of applying Protocore technology to revive dead cells

Was trying to convince Zayne to leave Akso Hospital and join him at Xander Sciences

When trying to recruit Zayne, he hid a Trojan horse in the medical record he sent him

Believes Zayne will never change, no matter how the world changes

Considered Zayne his "stubborn junior"

After failing to recruit/convince Zayne, he questions the pursuit of Zayne altogether. “What he really needs is not a like-minded colleague, but a pair of hands. Ones that can carry out God's mission and allow for God's descent. Zaynes hands.”

Interest in Protaganist:

Remembered Zayne became a doctor because of a girl. Suspected he was taking over Dr. Noah's work.

Considers the girl as the key to getting Zayne. As long as he has that mysterious girl, he knows he'll always have Zayne's skilled hands.

Wonders if that girl is even more interesting than his research patients. Maybe her value to X-Heart would far exceed that of Zayne's.

Relationship with Dr. Noah:

Dr. Noah often refers with a sense of disappointment, frustration, annoyance, or regret? Some unspoken negative sentiment:

“That boy, Carter…Nevermind”

(When seaking of the excited First-Year Medical Students after the oath ceremony): “William and Carter were like this too. Nevermind.”

(When resolving the consequences of Zayne intentionally deleting his part of their research): “Quiet, boy.” [pushes Carter behind him] “I'll handle this. Let the students go first.”

Notable Quotes:

[Sarcasm] "Tell me, is the natural law an unshakeable moral boundary? Or is it just a comforting phrase people use?"

(To Zayne): "Xander Sciences doesn't want to see a genius like you be forgotten. The Evol technology you're insisting on is so last year. No one wants an artificial lump that needs to be charged in their heart now. Protocore tech is the golden brick that will pave the way to the future."

(To Zayne): "My skills are nothing compared to you and Dr. Noah's. I can't be as meticulous and efficient as you.”

(To Zayne): "Dr. Noah thinks highly of you, you know. He would mention you to me and Will all the time back then. It made us really curious about you before we met."

(In response to the news of Dr. Williams death on Mt. Eternal): "Mt. Eternal, huh… The view's good, but there was an anomaly with the Wanderers a few years ago-. Wait, aren't you here to join us?”

(To Zayne): "Our job is to save people. If we can control life and death, why shouldn't we?!”

(To Zayne): "Do you remember how happy everyone was when the experiment worked? It was like a message left by God, and now we can finally respond! Zayne, do you believe in God?”

“Zayne, you should know you’re rejecting a path to life's truth. My answer hasn't changed either. I've always believed death is just a small obstacle. It can be overcome in due time.”

[madamemachikonew]

More thoughts on Baizhu's story quest #2 - Baizhu's lack of self

↓ ↓ Spoilers below ↓ ↓ 

The dynamic between Baizhu and Changsheng is interesting in the sense of how Baizhu has both negated and asserted himself in the relationship. When we think of 'selfless' behaviour, it has come to mean putting other people first. But a more literal meaning is being without self. Baizhu's behaviour is quite paradoxical in that the two states exist at once.

In choosing to undertake the art of healing (before he ever made his contract) he had taken an oath under his master to practice his art for the benefit of all, regardless of wealth or status. In essence, this ethical duty requires the medic to put personal feelings aside and administer their art in a fair way without prejudice or reasonable refusal. This is the first denial of self and is common to other professions such as lawyers. You also cannot allow emotions to cloud your clinical judgment and sometimes must make difficult decisions in the best interests of the patient, no matter how they offend you morally or emotionally.

The demands and rigours of such a job are such that you never have a day off. Yes, a clinic may have opening hours, but an emergency can present itself at any time or place. The doctor's duty requires that they must assist. It becomes a way of life and long working hours end up dictating how you spend your leisure time or who you meet. It permanently alters how you think; your brain is constantly viewing the world through the lens of your profession. For example, a simple walk in the mountain will turn into 'Oh, I wonder if that flower might have a medicinal benefit?' when most people will simply stop to look at the pretty flower. In this way, Baizhu further loses his definition of self.

It is also common to vocational professions to lose one's sense of self in that your identity becomes wrapped up in your job. People forever associate the name Baizhu with him being a doctor. Not Baizhu the human being. If one were to remove his medical inclination, what would be left of him? His voicelines are all based in some way around his profession - even his hobby is research. He doesn't even commit to a favourite food in favour of dispensing some health advice about having a balanced diet. Who actually is Baizhu as a person? What are his own preferences and desires? Is there anything of him apart from his dedication to his art? Once again, he has suppressed his sense of self. Or conceals it from the people around him in a guarded way. He deliberately makes himself two-dimensional in his presentation, but it plays as being mysterious and enigmatic. He uses a mischievous sense of humour to dodge and deflect questions he doesn't want to answer. For whatever reason, he does not want others to penetrate the external layer.

In this way, and on account of his pure heart and altruistic nature, taking the contract became a self-fulfilling prophecy, as much as he wants to deny the existence of fate. Changsheng refers to him as her mannequin. But it's probably more accurate to say that Baizhu has made himself a vessel or conduit for her power for the purpose of healing. A further denial of self.

He wears a smile so as not to cause worry to the people around him and encourage his patients despite the huge suffering he experiences daily. He has invalidated his own pain for the convenience of others (something which many sick or disabled people do). Again, denial of self.

But on the other hand, according to Jiangli, Baizhu's senior apprentice, he most likely would have been able to formulate a remedy for Jialiang on his own steam had he not reverse-engineered and adapted her version. She says that his intellect is exceptional in its own right.

In other words, Baizhu is more than a vessel; he has his own knowledge and skillset and likely would have been an exceptional physician even without the contract. Changsheng's arts merely serve to amplify it or make the process of his research more meaningful and elevate his talents to miraculous. His inquisitiveness and analytical nature were always his alone. He uses her abilities as research tools to develop cures and better understand how diseases and toxins work, thus expediting the research and development process.

In spite of his ostensible modesty (he refers to himself as 'delusional' and 'troublesome' and uses humble language) Baizhu seems to be aware of his ability and I wonder if this is the reason why he is so confident - arrogant? stubborn? - that he will defy the demise suffered by his predecessors to Changsheng's contract. In this way, he asserts self. And he does so either oblivious to the love that other people hold for him, or in spite of it.

Either, through denial of self, he cannot imagine himself worthy of love. I think this is unlikely - he is aware of his brilliance and his aesthetics suggest he is equally aware he is attractive. I suspect that he simply weighs up the grief of his loved ones against the benefits that could be brought to countless more unnamed people in the future through his ability to heal them. In this way he asserts self in the strongest and most painful way possible; he will not be deterred from walking his path as a healer. The only suffering he wilfully refuses to alleviate through his single-minded actions is that of those who cherish him most.

But then, he is confident that such a possibility will never arise because he is convinced of his future success. Maybe he is even inspired by it and becomes all the more determined to succeed in his endeavours, precisely to protect them. This sort of hubris is never destined to end well.

I would hope he uses their pain to temper any temptation to be reckless, but I fear the lure of testing his limits would always win. I think he will either end up dead, or cursed to immortal agony, because he cannot find cures for all of the ailments he's accumulated and some will do permanent damage even if they are cured later. After all, Changsheng's power is eroding and she cannot balance his Qi forever.

I wonder if, with either outcome, he would regret his decision or not.  

[lsvdw-blog]

I know every MC is different and they rank differently their job/career and their feelings for Ethan in their priorities list, so I’m here with a few questions, if you don’t mind :)

If given the chance, would your MC have started dating Ethan after their Miami kiss?

Did she (like Ethan) think that the competition for the spot in the DT made it difficult for them to be together? And, If dropping out of the competition would mean being able to be with him, would she do it?

If there was no reset and no Amazon, and they start dating after book 1, would this take a toll on her (career wise)? Given her already stained reputation after the ethics trial and all the work-related issues from book 2.

In your HC, did people care about Ethan and your MC’s relationship? Did it affect their reputation? Were her career and skills ever tied to Ethan? 

I love these! Thank you sm for thinking of me 💖

If given the chance, would your MC have started dating Ethan after their Miami kiss?

I think she would've. I don't think it would've been as deep and fulfilling as it was when they got together later on in the book, bc they're still in the early stages of knowing each other. I do think they would get there regardless though.

Did she (like Ethan) think that the competition for the spot in the DT made it difficult for them to be together? And, If dropping out of the competition would mean being able to be with him, would she do it?

She did see and understand his perspective and while she agrees with him to some extent, she wouldn't have not dated him bc of it.  However, if she had to drop out of the competition to be with him, she wouldn't do it. Working with the diagnosticians on the DT team is her dream and she wouldn't have given that up for anyone, even Ethan.

If there was no reset and no Amazon, and they start dating after book 1, would this take a toll on her (career wise)? Given her already stained reputation after the ethics trial and all the work-related issues from book 2.

I do think it would've been very difficult for Serena. The gossip would be rampant and unfriendly and there will always be those senior personnel who never got over her as "the intern who broke ethics," regardless of if she was dating Ethan or not. Those doctors would refuse to work with her or micromanage her, with no trust involved. These small brained individuals of course would tack on her "sleeping with her boss" as another reason to belittle and undermine her.  During this time, I imagine Ethan is very concerned for, and about, her, and is always checking in and asking her if she wants to put a stop to their relationship.  The answer is always no ❤️

In your HC, did people care about Ethan and your MC’s relationship? Did it affect their reputation? Were her career and skills ever tied to Ethan? 

If this is after they got together in bk2, after the attack, I'd say people care in the sense of curiosity and wanting to know more about the infamously stoic and private Ethan Ramsey. People didn't think he was capable of being nice, let alone falling in love, being attentive, and caring in a healthy relationship. They're happy for Serethan. If they'd gotten together in bk1, I think they'd still be curious, but more in a malicious and jealous way. "How did she trap him?" "She's just using him to get what she wants." etc etc. Unfortunately, this would mean Serena's reputation would be impacted, whereas Ethan was seen as "the victim," being "caught under her spell." It's always the female that takes the brunt of the accusations and bad things.  There will always be those jealous, angry, small minded individuals that credit Serena's skills and accomplishments to Ethan - "riding his coattails." But the individuals who really care about the work and the patients and the Healthcare, they know that she is a fantastic and brilliant doctor in her own right, shown day in and day out by her professionalism, published research & books, and dedicated work ethic. 

[cluelesslesbian]

alright tumblrinas prepare yourselves for me using my blog as my own diary for a lil bit uwu

i gotta hand in the proposal for my senior research project by tmrw night and gUESS WHO HASN'T STARTED ANYTHINGGGG

me. it's me. i'm so unmotivated and oddly tired lately?? like fr slept for most of my reading week and I'm so confused how???? i was so excited to start researching n drawing stuff in my free time?? wack. i blame depression- that evil bastard swirling my poor innocent noodle brain around on it's demonic pitchfork... idek what I'm saying alright NEXT SUBJECT---

im working w a local medical aesthetician who wants to create a guideline/course for medical professionals and beauty technicians to take in order to improve their bedside manners (aka how u talk and interact w clients/patients, the extra jazz on top of your scheduled appointment stuff ykno??) and ANYWAYYSSS I'm so down to help her bc!! i totally agree that some ppl are so casually insensitive when handling patients? and she was telling me about how heartbreaking it was that some of her clients were so surprised by her?? just being a decent human & doing her job??? like,,, yall I'm talking if a trans woman wants a brazillian wax?? like I personally don't like touching other ppl but like?? there's nothing wrong with that at all????? but apparently some places will deny that kinda service bc of their [prejudice OR lack of training in waxing diff genitalia... it's easy to say it's just a transphobic professional but sometimes,, there's just no resources for ppl to access and they don't want to hurt ppl in the process ykno?? its complicated but ethics b like that lol] and anyways ugh ok now I'm remembering how she hesitated telling me the details of waxing someone who's faced fatphobia and BRUH- I'm a twig, I can admit that but?? HOW would u not know or be comfortable asking someone to hold up their stomach or arm while u did ur job???? like I get it- some ppl might say it too harshly and that's a subjective tonal issue.. but?? like it's not rocket science to just BE POLITE- and anyways idek but yeah..

so ok im getting excited one again yay this was a good idea- imma start researching what ethical considerations are directly mentioned in physician training, how medial education is formatted, and bedside manner things... then I'll start compiling a report about what SHOULD be done and how it can be taught instead... (me and the nice lady r thinking of starting by creating awareness on insta via infographics and fun stuff before creating an online course... she wanted to do like a community college typa course but I recommended an etextbook course bc?? i mean I've done plenty of university courses primarily using an online textbook site soo it's def worth a shot and can be mass-distributed & can b formatted to allow for accessibility ..things.. wait whats the word.. uhh OH- ACCOMODATIONS yeeeee im so smort

....ok thats it. probs. this was neat. 10/10 brain feels more on track now omg..

OH yo i gotta remember to declare in my research intro that I'm a cis woman... wait or not... depends on if I focus more on soft-skills vs. hard-skills in my research.. no wait i still need to bc yeah i get diff treatment as a woman who fits the stereotypical "girly" standard than others might.... hmm ugh i don't wanna do a survey but now I'm wondering if i should get ethics clearance to (anonymously) question lgbt+ folks in my area about their experiences since it'll def be more reliable than some paper in a fancy-schmancy medical journal .... but that's so much woooorkkkk nooo 😭

okokokokoK one thing at a time.

gonna start summarizing some medical research to start a lit review.

then identify if there are gaps in existing research (specifically around patient mental health when it comes to demographic characteristics)

then summarize some marketing research to make informed predictions/recommendations on how tooooo... like productively change your habits or at least identify them? yeah? hmm marketing for how to present that info but psych & epidemiology research to get the content of the info probably....

OK BET YEET

[ellieexoxo]

WORLD UNDERNEATH 2 SUMMARY

WARNING: Spoilers ahead for Zayne's story. Anecdote 2 (Never-Ending Winter) and World Underneath 1 (Longly Flame) must be read prior to this one for better understanding.

Long story short:

World Underneath 2 is set around the New Year of 2048. Carter, Zayne’s former labmate, is attempting to recruit him to Xander Sciences to further their research in Protocore use in medicine. The ethics of reviving dead cells—and perhaps the whole person—has been an ethical subject of discussion for them. Carter wants to break free from the shackles of natural law, while Zayne wants to respect it. This push and pull leads them to test each other’s boundaries. Cabin 607’s patient is suffering from a rare condition that requires heart surgery. The treatment is a continuation of Zayne’s canceled research during medical school, rebranded as X-Heart. Carter uses this to persuade and manipulate Zayne, but he remains stubborn in his stance. The researcher isn’t aware of why it was discontinued or what had happened to William. He needs a pair of hands that can carry out God's mission and allow for God's descent. Zayne's hands. At the face of Zayne’s adamant refusal, he turns his attention to MC, whom neither him nor Dr. Noah could treat, and begin pondering her potential value to X-Heart. As Zayne is reviewing MC’s patient records, he remembers the question William asked him when they were students: What would he do if the patient was someone he loved? Zayne would do anything he can, and if that still doesn’t work, he has a last resort in mind. Until then, he will stay by MC’s side for as long as he can.

Set around the New Year of 2048.

The executives of Xander Sciences are trying to hire Zayne, offering a large salary and high-quality research labs. However, Carter says that Zayne doesn’t care about those.

Carter has not gotten his doctorate degree because he quit school.

He tries his hand on persuading Zayne through Cabin 607’s patient file.

Reminiscing about the time before he quit school, he remembers discussing the ethics of applying Protocore technology to revive dead cells with Zayne. After that, they went in the opposite direction and never saw each other again.

Carter knows that no matter how the world changes, Zayne will be the same.

They meet again in a park. A child is crying and begging Zayne to save a dog, but he says that the dog has already passed away. He is consoling the child when Carter approaches the child with a Protocore in hand, offering to bring the dog back to live.

Zayne coldly refuses.

They head to a restaurant together. Carter questions the ethics of continuing the process of life, but mentions how most people don’t want to try. He asks if natural law is rooted on a moral basis, or just a way to remain comfortable with what is known.

Zayne has already made his stance clear and notes how Carter hasn’t changed.

Carter disagrees. Xander Sciences has given him many opportunities, and provides Zayne with a business card. If Zayne continued with his research, maybe he would’ve already broken free from the shackles of natural law. His talents are wasted at Akso Hospital.

Zayne ignores it, warning his former senior that failure would result in heavy consequences.

Switching his tactic, Carter provides Cabin 607’s patient file—a project with a rare condition that requires heart surgery and may not survive the side effects of the treatment.

Carter uses the compassion to patients approach, saying that taking a look won’t violate Zayne’s medical ethics.

Screenshot links here.

Carter is waiting for Zayne to go to Xander Sciences. The operation doesn’t go well, and he confronts the gap in skill between him and the genius. He wants to know where he falls short.

He doesn’t know what Zayne found out or why he stopped.

Zayne arrives at Xander Sciences.

Xander Sciences has 15 life pods that look like capsules with tubes connecting it to equipment. Red tubes suck away death, while the blue ones inject new life. The daily cost for one is equivalent to a month’s worth of resources in a hospital’s ICU.

Zayne watches the patient who is soaked in liquid, shriveled like a skeleton.

He asks how the surgery was done, and Carter offers the knowledge if he joins them.

Carter brought the project that they stopped working on during medical school to Xander Sciences, rebranding it as X-heart. They were able to increase the patient’s life expectancy from less than six months to two years.

Zayne brings up William, but Carter doesn’t understand why. He doesn’t know anything. Zayne warns him that hiding a Trojan horse in the medical records can get him arrested, then leaves.

Screenshot links here.

The patient’s parents accepted the institution’s donation to save him, and in return, the institution received full usage and disposal rights. He doesn’t have a heart anymore. Regardless, his parents still want to see him.

Zayne operates on the patient. Half an hour later, the patient appears in front of his parents in a clean, intact state. They mourn for him

Carter tries to appeal to him again, but Zayne doesn’t change. He simply doesn’t want people to face a cruel death.

Zayne officially joins Akso’s Evol-Cardiac Medical Research Lab as its principal investigator.

Carter sends him the patient’s life details, but Zayne ignores him. Annoyed, he sends another picture of a dead patient with black crystals on her chest like dahlia, asking what would Zayne do if that was his lover.

He needs a pair of hands who can carry out God’s mission and allow for God’s descent. Zayne’s hands. He remembers that Zayne became a doctor because of MC. Carter intends on using her as leverage, becoming more interested in her and her potential value to X-Heart.

Zayne is reviewing patient records Dr. Noah transferred to him, implied to be MC. He recalls a conversation with Carter during medical school regarding death and saving loved ones. He would do anything to prevent MC’s death and save her, but things remain long and unclear. If everything else fails, he still has a last resort.

Until then, he only hopes to be with her

Screenshot links here.

[kurohaai]

More Mermay AU doodles Diver Ofi meeting Octopus Mer Yleeda and hanging out in shallow water when they eventually get closer

+ Oarfish Mer Das interacting (shyly) with senior researcher Pavnis Madron

Ofi & Das - mine Yleeda - @heuristicallyinclined Pavnis - @theartisticapparition

[apenitentialprayer]

I hit the breaking point as a parent a few years ago. It was the week of my extended family’s annual gathering in August, and we were struggling with assorted crises. My parents were aging; my wife and I were straining under the chaos of young children; my sister was bracing to prepare her preteens for bullying, sex and cyberstalking. Sure enough, one night all the tensions boiled over. At dinner, I noticed my nephew texting under the table. I knew I shouldn’t say anything, but I couldn’t help myself and asked him to stop. Ka-boom! My sister snapped at me to not discipline her child. My dad pointed out that my girls were the ones balancing spoons on their noses. My mom said none of the grandchildren had manners. Within minutes, everyone had fled to separate corners. Later, my dad called me to his bedside. There was a palpable sense of fear I couldn’t remember hearing before. “Our family’s falling apart,” he said. “No it’s not,” I said instinctively. “It’s stronger than ever.” But lying in bed afterward, I began to wonder: Was he right? What is the secret sauce that holds a family together? What are the ingredients that make some families effective, resilient, happy? It turns out to be an astonishingly good time to ask that question. The last few years have seen stunning breakthroughs in knowledge about how to make families, along with other groups, work more effectively. Myth-shattering research has reshaped our understanding of dinnertime, discipline and difficult conversations. Trendsetting programs from Silicon Valley and the military have introduced techniques for making teams function better. The only problem: most of that knowledge remains ghettoized in these subcultures, hidden from the parents who need it most. I spent the last few years trying to uncover that information, meeting families, scholars and experts ranging from peace negotiators to online game designers to Warren Buffett’s bankers. After a while, a surprising theme emerged. The single most important thing you can do for your family may be the simplest of all: develop a strong family narrative. I first heard this idea from Marshall Duke, a colorful psychologist at Emory University. In the mid-1990s, Dr. Duke was asked to help explore myth and ritual in American families.“There was a lot of research at the time into the dissipation of the family,” he told me at his home in suburban Atlanta. “But we were more interested in what families could do to counteract those forces.” Around that time, Dr. Duke’s wife, Sara, a psychologist who works with children with learning disabilities, noticed something about her students.“The ones who know a lot about their families tend to do better when they face challenges,” she said. Her husband was intrigued, and along with a colleague, Robyn Fivush, set out to test her hypothesis. They developed a measure called the “Do You Know?” scale that asked children to answer 20 questions. Examples included: Do you know where your grandparents grew up? Do you know where your mom and dad went to high school? Do you know where your parents met? Do you know an illness or something really terrible that happened in your family? Do you know the story of your birth? Dr. Duke and Dr. Fivush asked those questions of four dozen families in the summer of 2001, and taped several of their dinner table conversations. They then compared the children’s results to a battery of psychological tests the children had taken, and reached an overwhelming conclusion. The more children knew about their family’s history, the stronger their sense of control over their lives, the higher their self-esteem and the more successfully they believed their families functioned. The “Do You Know?” scale turned out to be the best single predictor of children’s emotional health and happiness. “We were blown away,” Dr. Duke said. And then something unexpected happened. Two months later was Sept. 11. As citizens, Dr. Duke and Dr. Fivush were horrified like everyone else, but as psychologists, they knew they had been given a rare opportunity: though the families they studied had not been directly affected by the events, all the children had experienced the same national trauma at the same time. The researchers went back and reassessed the children.“Once again,” Dr. Duke said, “the ones who knew more about their families proved to be more resilient, meaning they could moderate the effects of stress.” Why does knowing where your grandmother went to school help a child overcome something as minor as a skinned knee or as major as a terrorist attack? “The answers have to do with a child’s sense of being part of a larger family,” Dr. Duke said. Psychologists have found that every family has a unifying narrative, he explained, and those narratives take one of three shapes. First, the ascending family narrative: “Son, when we came to this country, we had nothing. Our family worked. We opened a store. Your grandfather went to high school. Your father went to college. And now you. ...” Second is the descending narrative: “Sweetheart, we used to have it all. Then we lost everything.” “The most healthful narrative,” Dr. Duke continued, “is the third one. It’s called the oscillating family narrative: ‘Dear, let me tell you, we’ve had ups and downs in our family. We built a family business. Your grandfather was a pillar of the community. Your mother was on the board of the hospital. But we also had setbacks. You had an uncle who was once arrested. We had a house burn down. Your father lost a job. But no matter what happened, we always stuck together as a family.’ ” Dr. Duke said that children who have the most self-confidence have what he and Dr. Fivush call a strong “intergenerational self.” They know they belong to something bigger than themselves. Leaders in other fields have found similar results. Many groups use what sociologists call sense-making, the building of a narrative that explains what the group is about. Jim Collins, a management expert and author of “Good to Great,” told me that successful human enterprises of any kind, from companies to countries, go out of their way to capture their core identity. In Mr. Collins’s terms, they “preserve core, while stimulating progress.” The same applies to families, he said. Mr. Collins recommended that families create a mission statement similar to the ones companies and other organizations use to identify their core values. The military has also found that teaching recruits about the history of their service increases their camaraderie and ability to bond more closely with their unit.Cmdr. David G. Smith is the chairman of the department of leadership, ethics and law at the Naval Academy and an expert in unit cohesion, the Pentagon’s term for group morale. Until recently, the military taught unit cohesion by “dehumanizing” individuals, Commander Smith said. Think of the bullying drill sergeants in “Full Metal Jacket” or “An Officer and a Gentleman.” But these days the military spends more time building up identity through communal activities. At the Naval Academy, Commander Smith advises graduating seniors to take incoming freshmen (or plebes) on history-building exercises, like going to the cemetery to pay tribute to the first naval aviator or visiting the original B-1 aircraft on display on campus. Dr. Duke recommended that parents pursue similar activities with their children. Any number of occasions work to convey this sense of history: holidays, vacations, big family get-togethers, even a ride to the mall. The hokier the family’s tradition, he said, the more likely it is to be passed down. He mentioned his family’s custom of hiding frozen turkeys and canned pumpkin in the bushes during Thanksgiving so grandchildren would have to “hunt for their supper,” like the Pilgrims. “These traditions become part of your family,” Dr. Duke said. Decades of research have shown that most happy families communicate effectively. But talking doesn’t mean simply “talking through problems,” as important as that is. Talking also means telling a positive story about yourselves. When faced with a challenge, happy families, like happy people, just add a new chapter to their life story that shows them overcoming the hardship. This skill is particularly important for children, whose identity tends to get locked in during adolescence. The bottom line: if you want a happier family, create, refine and retell the story of your family’s positive moments and your ability to bounce back from the difficult ones. That act alone may increase the odds that your family will thrive for many generations to come.

- Bruce Feiler. Emphases added.

[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.”

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

I wanted to tell my experience with the whole hiring or accepting students based on minority status and not merit. Now, I am an A student at the Ohio State University. I did initially go to OSU with the purpose of being a psychology major, but after an incident in college I missed the application and just ended opting for a major in social work. I do think my admission was based on my colour, as the programs always make sure to have a certain number of black/minority students. It is different for every program. My sister is in nursing and they are requiere to have at least 4 minority students from my observation of the students since freshman year (2018). From the moment I was accepted into the program, I was unknowingly placed in this sub program for “minority” students in social work called Mwanafunzi. I do want state that I am African, and majority of the students and leaders in the sub program are black Americans (or as they refer to themselves as Bipoc or Ados) so from the beginning I was confused by the fact that they do not want to identify with Africa, but will choose aspects of Africa that they enjoy (mostly the Swahili language). I digress. Their interpretation of Mwanafunzi was incorrect, and when I tried to correct them, I was told that my interpretation was not inclusive. So, I spoke to my advisor and asked why she though I would want to be in a program just for “minority” students. It hadn’t dawned on me that social work had become the face of SJW ideologies and pushing very concerning beliefs to the public. We were not allowed to be nuanced, analytical or even just use common sense. It was kind of like an unknowing indoctrination into some SJW cult. We were sent petitions for things that did not even make sense, told to speak up on cases (Kyle Ritenhouse) that half the student body was uninformed about. Told to reply to people who did not agree with us (liberalism, Democrats, etc.,) by saying that they need to educate themselves. I should have known this was not going to workout for me, I have worked hard to make that I am always unbiased and nuanced when looking at political agendas. This affected my ability to stay and the program, and after refusal to suscribe to their ideology I was chased out the program during the last first semester of my senior year. I am still trying to adjust to the change, and are looking for a new major at the moment. I do take responsibility for my actions that led to my dismissal, from the beginning my family told me that social work would not work for me. But, I was coming from a high school that hosted Hillary Clinton on the basis of gender and would lie if I said that I was not just starting to accept the ideas preached by liberalism and modern day democrats. So, I thought I was rebelling and that these people would be open to discourse. Obviously I was wrong. I do not regret going into social work, I just regret not questioning the ethics and rules governing social work. In conclusion I should have done my research. If you have any suggestions for someone in my situation, I would be willing to try or look into them. Thanks, and sorry for the long rant or if it did not make sense.

Oh dear, that's terrible. I'm so sorry that happened to you.

It must be particularly difficult considering the entire point is that you want to help people. It's a good thing to be doing, but it's also not an easy job, but you want to help and make a difference in people's lives.

And to be chased out of a noble profession over this ideological nonsense is just completely unfair.

The timing of your comment is so strange; as just last night I was watching a video of Yasmine Mohammed, who was talking about her experiences, and how she's now teaching. Her own daughter is also at college, majoring in social work, and like you found, it's polluted by this ideology. Her daughter came home and said that she had to lie on an exam in order to pass it. Yasmine said to do what you need to do, lie and pretend to believe it, until you get what you need and get out.

In many ways, it functions like Islam. Telling the truth is blasphemous. To say you don't believe it is apostasy, and apostates are severely punished. Non-believers find each other covertly and discuss dangerous (problematic) ideas. The ideology is more important than the person's values or merits; the number one thing is believing and adhering to a specific doctrine. As-Sirat al-Mustaqim. The narrow path.

People think I'm joking, exaggerating, misinterpreting or being an alarmist when I post about this kind of thing. They often don't believe that this stuff is actually going on, or that activists mean exactly what they say, because it sounds so nuts. Because it is. It has the potential to unpick the seams of society - this is a feature, not a bug of the ideology - and it's hurting people's lives today. Not just some pompous celebrity who is getting their just desserts of mob justice "accountability."

If history is anything to go by, chasing away those who aren't our kind of people inevitably leads to conditional or qualified assistance once it gains inertia. It's already happening in the name of virtue.

I hope you will find another pathway to what you want to do, or something in the same sort of field. Can it be studied off-campus, for example, or online with another university? Don't let them win. Both because you're entitled to pursue your dreams, and because we need more people like you. People who want to help, rather than play stupid political games.

Thank you for sharing your story.

[angsty-omi]

pull the trigger.

CEO!Akaashi x Agent!Reader

synopsis: You were assigned to kill one of the richest businessmen in Japan, Akaashi Keiji. How? by getting close to him. By pretending to be an innocent, naive little girl. By pretending you actually enjoy his company. By pretending that you actually loved him. The plan was simple enough, and if you were successful, you’d be rich enough to retire for yourself and your future grandchildren. So, what happens when you couldn’t pull the trigger? Even worse, why didn’t he flinch?

“Agent Y/N, you’ve been assigned.” your boss notified.

It’s been so long since you had been assigned. After you accidentally blew up the evidence last mission, your boss hasn’t been to keen depending on you. This was music to your ears, so what did you do? Jumped gleefully and instinctively squeezed your boss. You realized what you were doing and how unprofessional it was, so you slowly latched off of her. Your boss just coughed awkwardly before she began, “This assignment is a big one, meaning there must be no flaws to this plan. One mistake and you’re done for, literally.” ending with a slit-throat gesture. You were confident in your skills, and aside from that one mission, everyone depended on you. No wonder why your boss came to you for this. You glad-fully shook her hand, in which expressed your disparity for a new high.

To start, you had to change your look a bit. See, you researched Akaashi Keiji, from his likes and dislikes to his convictions. Every conviction he got away with money. Dirty bastard. Every single job left you guilt-less because you knew these people were corrupt and somehow reasoned that your job was ethical. First, you started with a trim. Your split ends would’ve definitely caught the eyes of the girls from his front desk. Then, you used the budget money for this mission to buy luxury items. From Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Hermes, was this really for the mission or for yourself? No one really knows. Finally, and most importantly, you had to snatch a job as his personal assistant. The organization already falsified documents for you. After today, you go by ‘Akiyama Ami.’ As you walked out of your office, your coworkers couldn’t even recognize you. One even put a gun to your head, and having to state who you are.

You smirked, “Matsuda, I am deeply saddened if this is how you treat your advisor,” whispering in his ear. 

“Senior Y-Y/N?,” he stuttered, putting his gun away immediately. You grabbed his arm and forcefully pushing it to his back, “please make sure you never make that mistake again,” you stated. 

“Y/N, leave him alone already,” a voice joked.

You knew that voice. It was your long time partner, Atsumu. From when you both were rookies, you guys worked cases together quite often. Never more than that. 

“Atsumu, this is my first case without you... aren’t you going to miss me?” you pouted. 

“Don’t give me that look, idiot. Be safe out there okay? I can’t always save your ass like from that time you exploded our only evidence.” he shook his head in disappointment.

You punched his shoulder, and he ‘over-dramatically’ ached in pain. “I’ll be fine, Atsumu. Plus our person literally looks like a prissy privileged boy, doesn’t he?” you pulled up Akaashi’s Business Insider profile. For the next ten minutes, you guys were bullying the hell out of him. Until finally, you had to go. Your cab was already ready for you, so you hugged Atsumu goodbye. Platonically, you always thought you’d get married to him. He was handsome, strong, and witty. And he knew your job situation, so you never would have to feel judgement from him. 

From the cab ride, you got to fly in a private jet. There, was your boss, two intelligent analysis, and a linguist. This was your team, and who’d you tell your intel to. The whole flight consisted of breaking down the plan, even down to what time you have to walk in the elevator. The destination was in Tokyo, where Akaashi’s main headquarters lived. 

“I’ve made an appointment for your job interview,” One of them said.

“Here’s your resume,” The other said.

As you skimmed through, you spit your drink.

“I can speak more than five languages?!” your eyes widened.

“壊れた日本語で話せます” you quoted.

“What does that mean?” your boss asked looking at you surprisingly.

“It means I can only speak broken Japanese,” you nervously scratched your head.

“It wouldn’t matter, the job application is asking for english-speakers” the linguist stated.

As the plane started to screech, due to the wheels contact with concrete, you knew it was your time to shine. You practiced all your lines during the flight, so confidence soared through your body. On sight, there was a limo waiting for you. You waved goodbye to your team, and entered the lanky vehicle. 

The condominium the organization gave you was luxurious, their budget must’ve been high-grade. Broad birched doors, huge window panels that let in a lot of natural light, and a master bedroom. Your first move was to jump on the feather-light bed. Your feet sunk deep into the mattress every hop. Leaving you tired, you went straight to sleep. 

Today was your job interview. Even though everything was fake, you couldn’t help but feel nervous. If you didn’t go down the agency path, is this what you would’ve felt as a normal person? While the coffee was brewing, you decided to look at your grand closet, not knowing what to wear. There was already an outfit set out for you. With it, there was a note:

Good luck! ;) -Atsumu

As you read it, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. The outfit he picked wasn’t even that bad. It was an emerald green two-piece, with a pale blouse underneath. 

“Not so bad,” you thought, while looking at yourself in the mirror. 

There, stood the building where the infamous person lived worked. Heels tapping the black marble, you stood in front of the front desk. The girls that worked there looked roughly young, around their early 20s. As they stared at you up and down, you could feel their judgement. 

“Welcome to Fukurodani Headquarters, how may we help you?” One girl asked.

“Hi, I’m Akiyama Ami, I’m actually applying for the personal assistant job. Where could I meet my interviewer?” You warmly asked.

The girls bursted into laughter. What was so funny? Did you miss out on the joke?

“Excuse us, its just... that’s one way to call Akaashi Keiji,” 

“Akaashi Keiji... is the interviewer? That’s even more stressful than a random person. It does make sense though, as a personal assistant there should be a close relationship,” you sighed.

“Close relationship? Please, you’ll be lucky if you can even give him coffee. Get in line.” The front desk scoffed in agreement with each other. 

“That’s enough,” a voice commanded.

“Are you Akiyama Aki? I’m ready for you.” 

Your face went pale. As you slowly turned around, there he was. The man himself, Akaashi Keiji. As an agent, you’ve went through strenuous training, so from the outside you looked relaxed as ever, but on the inside the butterflies in your stomach started awakening. He was a very attractive man after all.

“You must be Mr. Akaashi, let’s begin!” you enthusiastically smiled, while following him into his office. 

“So Akiyama, tell me about yourself?” Akaashi read off a list.

“Well I was born in the states, but my parents are foreign. They enforced me to take a lot of language classes, hence why I know quite a lot.” You were dying inside. It was a half-true statement though, you were from the states and your parents are foreign.

“It says you speak French, Aimez-vous boire l'eau des toilettes?” He smirked. 

You had no idea what he just said. The silence was deafening, so you just laughed it off. You’ve been told your laugh is very contagious, so you used that to your benefit. Your laughter increased, his did too. 

After you both calmed down, he continued with his next question, “Out of all of the candidates, why should I hire you?”

“Well I guess my stats match up with everyone else, but what’s not on the textbook is my characteristics. I am dependable, calm, and honestly easy to work with. I will do my best to help you any way I can, and keep your stress levels at ease.” You smiled with confidence. 

“Any way huh?” Akaashi whispered to himself. You acted like you didn’t hear his whisper. As an agent it was also one of your many talents to keep an ear out for anything. 

“Akiyama, congratulations! you’ve gotten the job.” Akaashi put his hand out.

“R-r-really? That was only two questions” you tilted your head to the side. You could feel his glare as a response.

“Well, thank you anyways! My parents will be pleased.” you gushed as you shook his calloused hands. Parents? Please, more like your boss. You swore you could hear a ‘cha-ching’ sound effect in your head.

Over the next couple of months, you’ve been working under Akaashi. If he was staying up til’ 2 AM at the office, so were you. Continuously brewing coffee, while also printing papers, and keeping him company. 

However, one day the routine changed. Prior to this day, your boss had just kept you up for the next order, so you were extremely tired. During the 2 AM session, your eyes slowly started to drift off, feeling the wave of drowsiness pound into your head. Akaashi walked into your office and was going to ask you for copies, until he saw you sleeping head down on your desk. At first, he was going to viciously shake you awake, but seeing your dainty face in the moonlight he couldn’t bring himself to. This was the first time he saw you vulnerable. Typically, when he would ask if you were tired, you would just shake it off with a bright smile. However, he knew. He could tell that you were pushing for him. So, he draped over his blazer around you, in hopes to insulate some warmth and went back to his office. Minutes later, you jerked yourself awake. You felt a strange piece of clothing around you, so you pinched at it while analyzing. Does it look like a weapon? No. Does it have any toxins? No. Could this harm you in any way, shape, or form? It honestly just looked like a plain blazer you thought. As you checked the shoulder pocket, there was an ID. 

“Akaashi’s jacket huh?” you said to yourself, not even noticing the smile that crept up on your face. As soon as you caught yourself, you immediately slapped your face. Oh no. Quickly, you sent a picture of the ID, so that the agency can create a replica for future secret documents and shoved it back inside. 

Knocking at the entrance to his office, he looked up at you with bagged eyes. His sleepiness radiated off of him, so you did what you promised on the first day-- relieve his stress levels. You pulled down the shutters of his clear office so no one could look in. In addition, setting up the couch to where there was a pull up bed under it.

“Miss Akiyama, if you’re trying to seduce me you could’ve just said so,” He flirtatiously grinned. You rolled your eyes in response, and grabbed him to the bed.

“I like where this is going, Ami, I didn’t think you were so bold.”

“Just shut up and get some rest, I’ll appoint some things out so your projects aren’t due.”

As he opened his mouth, you anticipated that he was for sure going to deny. However, no words came out of his mouth, instead he grabbed your wrists and pulled you onto the bed with him. 

“I’ll accept, on the conditions that you, too get some rest.”

Too tired to argue, you complied. As you both fell asleep, with his arms wrapped around you.

a/n: i was planning on making this a one shot but i feel like this might be a multiple part-er(?)

[comrade-meow]

‘Sex work’ advocates and the Nazi propaganda playbook

Last month Nordic Model Now! was asked to participate in a University of Exeter student debate on the proposition that “This house believes that sex work is real work.” As a group, we are ambivalent about taking part in such debates. On the one hand, they are seldom a conducive forum for understanding nuanced and complex issues – but on the other hand, if we don’t participate there is a risk that the audience won’t hear the feminist analysis of prostitution. No one else in the group was able to take part that night, so reluctantly I agreed.

From the comments on social media during the debate, it appears that most of the students were won over by the arguments of the two proponents of the proposition – even though it was clear to me that they both had powerful vested interests in a booming sex industry, that much of what they said was palpably false and much of their argument relied on ad hominem attacks on myself and the other speaker against the proposition.

I was awake much of that night wondering why the students at one of the top universities in the UK appeared to be so unable to see beyond the self-satisfied veneer of the two speakers for the proposition. By the morning I’d resolved to analyse the arguments for the proposition and place them in context, with the aim of providing some help to those coming to similar debates in the future. This article is the result.

The Nazi Manual of Propaganda

Yale professor and expert in the history of fascism, Timothy Snyder, talks of the 1924 Nazi manual of propaganda that advised finding simple slogans and repeating them over and over and framing opposition as disloyalty or worse. Many people, he says, have taken up these tactics in recent years, leading not only to an erosion of the understanding that politics should be about reasoned debate leading towards constructive and informed policy, but also to politics being viewed as a battleground between ‘friends’ and ‘enemies’.

You would need to be blind to not recognise that these tactics have become increasingly common in the UK and US in recent years, and how they have been used to manipulate the public into support for policies that are not in their best interests and that might have catastrophic consequences. Depending on the arena, dissent is framed as hatred, ‘anti-science,’ or not ‘evidence-based,’ and this acts as a powerful silencing force that shuts down critical thinking and coerces acceptance of what is often little more than hot air.

These tactics obscure who are the real beneficiaries of the propaganda – usually people who gain power or who benefit in financial or other ways from whatever is being promoted. Bizarrely, we can observe these practices on both the right and left of the political spectrum.

These tactics were on display in the University of Exeter Debating Society debate. It was by no means the first or only such debate I have taken part in or observed, and nor was it the first time that I saw those promoting the idea that ‘sex work is real work’ consciously or unconsciously using tactics from the Nazi propaganda playbook.

You don’t have to take my word for it. You can read the transcript of the debate and I’ll illustrate my claims through an analysis of the key arguments used by the two speakers for the proposition.

Jerry Barnett

The first speaker for the proposition was Jerry Barnett, who’s the author of the book, Porn Panic. He regularly writes on sex and the ‘economics of sex,’ and runs a YouTube channel called ‘Sex and Censorship.’ In other words, the sex industry indirectly provides his daily bread and butter.

After introducing himself, he defined work as: “A voluntary exchange of time or labour for money or some other payment.” He didn’t mention that this definition deviates significantly from the Oxford English Dictionary’s definition, which is based on mental or physical activity, and he didn’t explain how you can exchange time for money.

One of the key arguments against prostitution being considered normal work is that although it involves some mental and physical activity (pretending the punter’s a great guy, cleaning up afterwards, etc.) the core feature of prostitution is that he uses her body – he gropes and penetrates her. This is not about her being actively engaged in mental or physical activity but someone doing something to her.

What other work involves someone doing something to you while you lie back and endure it? The only thing that I can think of is participating in medical trials – but that’s not considered work – even though you might be paid for taking part.

So, he sneakily expanded the definition to make it easier to argue that a man penetrating your orifices is a normal form of work – although of course he didn’t mention penetration because, like most sex trade lobbyists, he buries such fundamental realities in euphemism and obfuscation.

Interestingly, he did admit that it is invariably men who are the customers (or punters as we call them) and nine or more times out of ten it is women who are being penetrated – or earning an income from ‘sex work’ as he euphemistically described it.

His arguments hinged around two key contentions: First, that ‘sex work’ is well-paid, enjoyable work that has short hours and is particularly suitable for anyone who needs flexibility. I will leave aside the questionable ethics of promoting such a skewed reality to an audience of impressionable young women and men.

Second, that opposition to ‘sex work’ is based on false statistics, the conflation of trafficking and consensual ‘sex work,’ and moralistic values from people who are anti-sex and who attack women’s rights, and refuse to “listen to sex workers who say it’s empowering.”

Most of the time, he expounded on one or other of these claims, all presented with utter conviction, while implicitly framing anyone who disagreed with him as the enemy – the enemy of women’s rights, of rational debate, of men, of more or less everything that he considers good in life.

He dismissed my arguments as “anecdotes” even though most of his were based on wishful thinking rather than hard evidence – while at the same time claiming they were “evidence-based.”

For example, I mentioned that the murder rate of women involved in prostitution is the highest of any group, including in the UK, and that where prostitution is legalised, the murder rate of women in prostitution usually remains high.

His immediate response?

“Anna is good with anecdotes but when she tries to use statistics, they don’t seem to add up at all. I think the last time I looked, the professions with the highest [murder rate] were police and fast-food delivery people who are overwhelmingly men. But yeah, the anecdotes stack up, the statistics don’t.”

I didn’t manage to respond to this until much later in the debate, when I quoted a senior police officer who, when giving evidence at a Home Affairs Select Committee inquiry in early 2016, said:

“We have had 153 murders of prostitutes since 1990, which is probably the highest group of murders in any one category, so that gives the police cause for concern.”

I didn’t have the stats for police murders at my fingertips but I looked them up later and found data that suggested there had been about 28 murders of police officers in the UK during the same period (1990-2015). So, there were more than five times as many murders of women involved in prostitution as police officers. I couldn’t find any data on fast food delivery drivers other than a few isolated press reports.

So much for his grasp on statistics. But the damage had been done.

Charlotte Rose, the other speaker for the proposition, compounded the damage by asserting more than once that there had been no murders recorded of women involved in prostitution in New Zealand, where the sex industry is fully decriminalised.

But again, this is untrue. The German women who run the Sex Industry Kills project have documented 10 murders of prostituted women in New Zealand since the sex trade was decriminalised in 2003 along with a number of attempted murders. That is a significant number given New Zealand’s small population (currently less than 5 million).

One of my key arguments was that the sex industry normalises and eroticises male dominance and one-sided sex, and feeds men’s entitlement and reduces their empathy – which are the very attitudes that underpin the current epidemic of rape, child sexual abuse, and other forms of male violence against women and children.

Jerry’s response? That there was not an epidemic of male violence against women. He based this assertion on another made-up definition centred on “a steep sustained increase” – unlike the Oxford Dictionary, which centres the definition merely on a disease being widespread.

He said that not only was there not an epidemic of male violence but that the prevalence of such violence has been on a steep decline for 50 years.

But this is not true. Research has shown that male violence against women has risen significantly in the UK since 2010 and that new forms of gender-based abuse are increasingly prevalent. Even the UN describes male violence against women as a pandemic – which is an epidemic that has spread to cover multiple countries.

I mentioned that the judge in a judicial review about Sheffield Council’s relicensing of Spearmint Rhino (a lap dancing club) had castigated the council for rejecting a large number of objections from women and community members who said that the club had made the streets less safe on the basis that these objections were nothing more than “moral values.” The judge was clear that the objections were not about morality but were issues of equality.

Jerry responded as follows:

“There was briefly the anecdote about Spearmint Rhino and that women didn’t feel safe in the area. The fact is I’ve been involved, I’ve got stripper friends who’ve been involved in these campaigns to keep the venues open and these claims are false. They come up over and over again – that the presence of a strip club in an area makes women less safe. This has been de-proved, debunked, using evidence over and over and over again. So, the idea that women don’t feel safe in the area is a different thing.

Unfortunately, if women don’t feel safe, that’s sad but then they should acquaint themselves with the facts that actually the presence of a strip club in an area does not lead to an increase in sexual violence. And yet these kinds of things are continuously claimed to make it look like this is a woman’s rights movement rather than a morality movement, which it is.”

As for his claim that the increased violence in the vicinity of lap dancing clubs and similar has been “debunked” many times, well I couldn’t find any clear evidence that supported that. Rather I found much to the contrary. The Women and Equalities Select Parliamentary Committee in its report on its inquiry into Sexual Harassment of Women and Girls in Public Places, accepted the considerable evidence that sexual entertainment venues, such as lap dancing clubs, “promote the idea that sexual objectification of women and sexual harassment commonly in those environments is lawful and acceptable.”

But that is not good enough for Jerry. He sticks to what he knows is effective, and repeats sound bites that are simply not true while dismissing solid evidence and presenting any opposition as irrational and the work of moralistic enemies.

As to a man telling women they are being irrational to fear male violence, what can I say? I am not sure anything I would like to say is publishable.

Charlotte Rose

The second speaker for the proposition was Charlotte Rose, who was wearing a t-shirt advertising Fan Baits, a new commercial sex industry advertising platform. She introduced herself as, “a former multi-award-winning escort, current radio presenter and advocate for decriminalisation of sex work.”

She went on to say:

“I just want to discuss something that may affect your moral judgement. How do you all feel when I mention people who work in abortion clinics, abattoirs, factory farmers, nuclear power station workers? To name just a few. For me I do not like it. But just because we do not like what these people do, it doesn’t give us the right to state that their work is not legitimate.”

Since when have people campaigned against factory farming or nuclear power because they didn’t approve of the people who work in those industries? Eccentrics aside, the arguments are always around the impact of those industries on the environment, human and animal health and welfare, and other wider issues – and any personal disapproval is reserved for those who, knowing the damage caused, profit from those industries.

The inclusion of abortion clinics in this list is a sneaky attempt to associate our opposition to the commercial sex industry with extreme anti-woman protestors against abortion. This is a classic example of suggesting guilt by association. For an audience of students whose average age is likely to coincide with the peak age for abortions, this is particularly reprehensible.

Charlotte then said that “until you’ve worked as a sex worker, you’ve got no right whatsoever to dictate anything against [sex work].” This is an argument that we hear repeated over and over in true propaganda playbook style, making people lose their critical faculties and the ability to say, hang on a minute, I’m entitled to have an opinion on factory farming and nuclear power and other industries that have a wide impact, why on earth can’t I have an opinion on the sex industry?

And the truth is, of course you can have such an opinion, and indeed as a concerned citizen, you should – but they don’t want you to. Because once you really look at the sex industry, it’s hard to ignore the rampant abuses and negative impacts on us all, particularly young people.

Like Jerry, Charlotte expounded on how “consensual sex work” has nothing to do with sexual abuse, exploitation and trafficking. But of course, it does. There is no separate market for trafficked women – they are on the same street corners and in the same brothels and so-called massage parlours as women who may have made some kind of choice to be there. From the outside you can’t tell what led a woman to that place – nor what is holding her there.

As we have written elsewhere, most pimping meets the international definition of human trafficking and most women involved in prostitution have one or more third party (i.e. pimp) feeding off their prostitution. And the evidence of the violence inherent in prostitution is overwhelming.

Charlotte may not be a male chauvinist pig as all the evidence suggests that Jerry is, but she was equally happy to misrepresent our arguments and frame us as hateful and dangerous. She claimed several times that we want to “delegitimise” her work. (What work? Didn’t she say she was a former sex worker?)

In an attempt to convince everyone that her work really is real work, she went into a long explanation of what it entails: dealing with emails (80 a day), text messages (120/day), phone calls (50), notifications, advertising, website SEO, updating her photos, social media and special offers, booking hotels, etc.

She then asked whether that sounded like work – which of course it does. But that was missing the whole point of the debate because she didn’t mention the core aspects of prostitution – sexual intimacy with a stranger who pays you to have his every whim and fetish met with a smile.

She claimed that “delegitimising sex work” damages her credibility and means men won’t see it as legitimate work and means she “can’t get a mortgage by writing down that I’m a sex worker.” But later when she was asked why she was against legalisation of the sex trade (she favours full decriminalisation), she said:

“Legalisation is what happens in Amsterdam, but women, or sex workers […] have to pay for a licence. So, first of all, they’ve got to give a large amount of money to be able to get a licence to give them the ability to work and be in a legitimate premise.

Number one, they cost a lot of money. Number two, their details are known so there’s no anonymity. If someone wants their business not to be known to the government, then unfortunately they won’t be able to work. So, these two massive factors are why we don’t want it to be legalised.”

But hang on a minute… Isn’t she arguing for ‘sex work’ to be considered ‘real work’?

And isn’t one of the things that distinguishes ‘real’ – or legitimate – work from scams, drug dealing and other illegal activity, that when you earn money from ‘real work,’ you fill out a tax return and inform the government about where your income comes from.

So actually it sounds like she doesn’t want it to be regular ‘real work’ after all.

She made other arguments that were equally dodgy. She claimed several times that by expressing our views, we are causing actual harm to sex workers:

“One of my morals is not to cause harm to other people. I would never use my morals to cause harm to anybody. Your moralistic view is causing harm to sex workers.”

She is talking about an industry in which women involved in it have an extremely high murder rate – almost invariably by male punters and pimps – and yet she suggests that the problem is naming and describing this reality.

I explained that our position is that nothing can make prostitution safe and so we need to reduce the amount that happens. Anything that normalizes it means it will increase – it will increase men’s demand for it and more women will be sucked in and be hurt. As her position is that prostitution should be legitimised and become a normal job, you could therefore argue that her position will cause harm – like she claims about us. However, we prefer to argue on the facts and actual evidence.

Conclusion

Judging by the comments on social media, the young audience were swept along by Charlotte’s glamorous and suave act – in the face of which our attempts to focus the debate on the depressing realities of prostitution appeared about as alluring as a school assembly address by Miss Trunchbull on a bad day.

But reality is what we must deal with. Basing public policy on wishful thinking and propaganda invented by those with powerful vested interests is a recipe for disaster. You only need to consider Brexit to understand that.

The Brexit debate was dominated by sound bites and hot air underwritten by hedge fundies and other capitalists salivating at the prospect of looser and weaker regulation of business and commerce. But large sections of the British population were swept along by the propaganda and were blind to the likely dangers. It is only now, four years later, as the actual reality of Brexit is becoming impossible to ignore that opinion polls are showing the majority turning against it and realising it is almost certainly a terrible mistake.

You can’t help wondering in this context why schools and universities are not educating students about the dangers of propaganda and how to recognise and resist it. All of us, but especially young people, need to understand how to identify vested interests, easy answers and soundbites that oversimplify complex subjects, attacks on opponents and unevidenced assertions that they are motivated by hate or worse, and to see these as red flags.

Much of life is complex and messy and inequality and abuse of power is rife. There are no easy answers. Real solutions require hard work and challenging powerful vested interests – not following them like sheep.

[mosshead-lover]

The Act of LordE: part 2

On the contrary

Bakugou & Izuku x Reader

<< Previous

It had been a few weeks since the new year's party. [y/n] decided to put that unfortunate event behind. She was well settled in the city and was having a great time with Izuku as well. They were officially in a relationship. She even managed to intern at a hero agency. Her job was to study the hero costumes and make them fashionable. A job that was considered useless by heroes, as told by her seniors. But, She firmly believed that a hero's outfit should make a statement about the hero, radiate his/her personality.

Her boyfriend, who was one of the rising top heroes, not only comprehend her passion but also respected her talent for making even the most boring items into fascinating entities, as opposed to what her seniors had experienced.

[y/n]'s excitement about starting at the hero agency was palpable. She was thrilled to meet pro heroes in person and have a chance to re-model their outfits. She was also a little anxious about pulling their style statement down instead of elevating.

"We will start with you studying some hero costumes evolution throughout the years. Relate the modifications with the fashion trends and marketing trends set in the respective years and submit a report by the weekend."

The chief stylist of the agency had assigned work the second she met [y/n].

[y/n] was impressed and surprised at how work centered her boss was. She got into work immediately. After a week of extensive research, late-night shenanigans, rewriting the thesis thinking the previous one wasn't good enough and taking inputs from her boyfriend & his fellow hero friends, [y/n] finally submitted her report. Her boss didn't seem too impressed but didn't criticize either. She assigned [y/n] her next task: to make sketches of a hero intern's outfit and try different color panels.

"I will ask one of the hero interns to come see you." Her boss told in a neutral tone and left the room. The Fashion department was vacant most of the time since most fashion staff tended to work from their comfort zones. The boss who came in every day had a chamber of her own. So, [y/n] was pretty much by herself. She was looking forward to having company.

"This Asshole!"

[y/n] screamed inside. At the sight of the person whom she was so eagerly waiting to meet. How could she possibly forget those eyes?

Katsuki, on the other hand, cursed his fate for putting the one girl he didn't want to see ever again in front of him.

However, neither brought up the night. They worked in silence, avoiding eye contact, wishing for the day to get over soon.

[y/n] had had a long day. She walked home thinking if she should tell Izuku what happened on new year's. She decided not to. It was too late now. If she wanted to, she should have, sooner. At least when she recognized that ass from the pictures Izuku had shown her the day she had stayed over.

A few days later, Katsuki was asked to visit [y/n] again. To submit technical details of the gadgets he used and to answer any questions she had. Bakugou sucked at making things right, the easiest way to ease the tension between them was to tell her about the stupid challenge and apologize, he couldn't get himself to. It was difficult to even imagine himself doing it, given his egocentric personality. Nevertheless he had to. After a long hour of deep thinking, he decided he would.

He took heavy reluctant steps towards the fashion department.

"Ummm. Thanks for getting lunch, Izu."

[y/n] was seated on the table, with her hands around Midoriya's neck.

"I took a day off. That the least I could do, [y/n]-chan."

[y/n] kissed Izuku on the lips gently.

"We are so occupied with college, internships, and assignments these days. We barely get to spend time together. I miss you."

Izuku sounded disappointed.

[y/n] let out a sigh in agreement and hugged him.

"I miss you too, baby."

"Wish we at least worked at the same place. We could commute together." Izuku mused.

"I can put in a word for you! How can they say no to someone as talented as you?" He was holding [y/n] by her shoulders now. His eyes shined, radiating his enthusiasm.

"Our Agency is just as good, you know?" He was trying to be cocky now.

[y/n] laughed and ruffled his hair.

"Thanks for saying that, Mr. Pro-to-be. But, I got in here with lots of effort and am learning a great deal. I don't want to leave halfway. I know you wouldn't."

"Yeah." Izuku sulked.

Usually, Bakugou barged in, irrespective of the place and the situation. Except for this day. He had waited at the door for a while before going in.

"Tch. As if getting to see one shit face for the day wasn't enough."

Izuku moved away, and [y/n] quickly got off the table. A drop of sweat trailed down her cheek though she knew she wasn't at fault. Not much anyway.

"I don't know how shit works at your agency, Deku-teme, But here, we don't fool around."

Kachan eyed [y/n] in what seemed like disgust.

"Ah...Kachan, please calm down. I was just dropping off lunch. I am sorry."

(What is he sorry for?)

Deku's demeanor changed suddenly.

"I shall pick you up in the evening, [y/n]-chan. Bye for now."

Izuku didn't even bother to peck [y/n] and left hurriedly. [y/n] had heard enough stories about Izuku's childhood friend Kachan to understand his reaction. But, she was more frustrated at how this person got away with being an asshole all the time. Izuku was used to Kachan's way of talking. But [y/n] wasn't, and she didn't plan to.

"Who do you think you are!?"

[y/n] was raging with fury.

"Ah?" Bakugou tried to sound cold and clueless when he was burning on the inside. He had to face the inevitable confrontation now. He had ignited the fire.

"I don't know why Izuku tolerates your foul mouth but, that's no way to treat a friend!"

"I don't have time for this." Bakugou tries to escape the ultimate, one last time.

"You do, and you will listen to everything I have to say!"

To [y/n]'s surprise, he obeyed and sat down on the chair unwillingly.

"First, You steal his new year's kiss from him by forcing yourself on me, and then, you are extremely rude to him for no reason at all. It had literally been five minutes since he arrived! We weren't fooling around. It was my lunch break, for god's sake! And worst of all, He asks sorry, like he was guilty! If anyone should be apologizing, it's you!"

Katsuki yawned as [y/n] went on, which only aggravated her further.

While [y/n] was fuming, Katsuki slowly speaks up after confirming that she was done.

"Whoah! I didn't know you were dating at the time."

(even so, I am guilty of kissing you without consent. You dumb girl. You need to get some confrontation lessons.)

"I don't care how long he had been here. I saw what I saw, and I may be an ass but have strong work ethics."

(I couldn't stand seeing you together.)

"As for an apology, I still don't see my fault."

(I am an ass. I know. I also know it's too late to try being otherwise.)

"Oh, you will see! I will make sure Deku gets one from you!" [y/n]'s anger hadn't gone down, even a bit.

"Um! Determination I see." He raised his eyebrows, a faint smile formed on his face.

"I like it. So, I will give you a chance to earn that apology for that midget boyfriend of yours."

Bakugou got more comfortable in the wooden chair that he sat on. Almost as if he was enjoying where the conversation was headed.

[y/n] remained silent but was looking in his direction. She didn't have to say. He went on.

"Let's play a game. Umm...say Chess?" He suggested, looking at a painting of a few chess pieces that was hung by the door.

He went on.

"You win, I will apologize to Deku, and If I do, I will claim something of yours as mine for ten minutes."

"I am in." [y/n] didn't give a second thought. Only if she knew what she was getting to, she might have. If only she knew.

Next>>

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[utopians]

heya since youre one of the only scp fans i know, scp/tma au???? 👀 👀 except, jon and other avatars are the scps themselves instead of researchers or personnel (tho im thinking that martin, sasha and tim arent)

ALRIGHT at long last! here’s my thots. there’s a lot of stuff under the cut and it involves AWCY melanie and narrative anomaly gerry so it might be worth a read

jon is in containment! he’d essentially have his canon powers, and he’s considered euclid. his containment procedures include the exclusive use of physical locks bc he could just Know a password or keycode. additionally, interviews with him are conducted exclusively through D class who are given a list of questions to ask him so he can’t compel classified information out of an actual researcher

martin and sasha are researchers! they’re best friends in this au, and have weathered many a containment breach together after working at the same site for years. not!sasha still happens, but it’s because she’s taken and replaced through anomalous means by elias (who is the morally bankrupt site director in this scenario) because she got too close to unearthing his plans

Tim is initially an MTF operative that works closely with Martin and Sasha but defects and joins the GOC after a. the not-Sasha ordeal and b. his brother is taken in and killed by the Circus of the Disquieting. he just becomes increasingly jaded and angry and he loses his faith in the foundation to do the right thing or protect anyone

gertrude is a senior staff member a la Clef or Gears who’s both revered and resented for her merciless nature. she pretty much embodies ‘cold not cruel’ to its logical extreme. she became notorious after murdering a level 3 researcher and close personal assistant, michael shelley, to contain a reality-bending anomaly during a containment breach

unfortunately the same anomaly brought michael back and he attempted to kill her. he is currently in keter-class containment. she never visits him but sometimes she just stands behind the reinforced one-way glass and watches for a while

gerry is also in containment! he’s an anomaly a lot like scp-423, his soul was bound into an anomalous book and he now acts as a narrative entity who can move between different pieces of media. he’s considered euclid bc he’s a sentient being but is generally pretty cooperative and communicates a lot with martin and sasha to the point where he would consider them friends

elias is the corrupt site director at the site where martin and sasha work... he’s generally respected and liked but is exploiting the scips under his authority for personal gain and is specifically manipulating jon into giving him blackmail info that he’s using to work his way up through the foundation

peter lukas is the individual known as Nobody

basira is a science officer in the GOC who defects to the foundation after she sees the GOC’s methods firsthand and can’t deal with the ethical ramifications anymore. she essentially just packs up and leaves in the night without telling anyone. she wants to tell daisy, her long-term friend and partner, but is (rightfully) afraid that daisy’s loyalty to the GOC would make rat basira out 

daisy is a particularly ruthless GOC agent notorious for her involvement in the ichabod campaign, in which she and her team killed upwards of 150 type greens. she only gets more violent after basira’s disappearance, which she and the rest of the GOC mistakenly attributes to some kind of group of interest-involved killing or kidnapping

daisy ends up in foundation custody after a raid gone wrong and is confronted by the miraculously not-dead basira, which is when she begins to question the GOC

melanie is an anartist specializing in video-based anomalies... she meets georgie at an underground awcy gathering and the two start dating. although she started as Just an anartist, she becomes increasingly militant against groups like the foundation and GOC and gets taken into foundation custody after creating an anomaly specifically to fuck with them

georgie and jon were very close friends when jon was snatched up by the foundation, and georgie ended up getting heavily into anomalous stuff afterwards, getting involved with various minor anomalous groups (spent a while on the parawatch forums and the like) for a while before ultimately getting involved with the anart scene, where she met melanie. however it’s pretty much just means to an end, she’s ultimately just looking for any way that she could theoretically break jon out or just find him again and getting involved in anomalous stuff is the clearest path to that she can see. when melanie gets taken as well this gets thrown into overdrive and it essentially becomes her driving purpose

martin eventually deserts the foundation and he and jon escape to the wanderer’s library. they join the serpent’s hand and are fugitives happily ever after

Annabelle Cain Type Green Reality Bender no need to elaborate there

anyway that’s a lot of text. kudos to you for getting this far!

[butterbeeryuta]

You

Inspired by Netflix original series, 'You.'

yuta x reader | stalker!yuta au | smut, thriller | 6.0 k

warning: mention of drugs, profanity, death, stalker behaviour, sex scene

Note: Sometimes, you have to do what is right. It may not be right for you, or anyone else, but hey, ethics is a tough area of study. In the end, we all have our own personal morals anyway. It’s called egoism. Believe me, I’m doing this for you. Just hang on, we’ll meet, and you will be mine.

Ah, I was waiting for you. Three twenty-four p.m. every Wednesday and Friday. For the rest of the days, you either have work at the clothing store as a sales clerk and English assistance, or at the café if their pancakes are on sale. But, today is Friday. You walked in the library rather silently if I have to say. I’ve been observing you since last year when you entered this university from a TA’s perspective. Today, you were wearing a button-up shirt tucked into your jeans, so it can be assumed that you take a business related course—maybe economics, or business studies. But, I know you don’t. You’re in your second year of university taking biochemistry hoping to be a pharmacist to help your adopted older brother, Lucas, recover from his drug addiction. You have a really caring and supportive father who will do anything for his children, and that is because he does not know about your brother’s condition. He thinks that your brother is doing fantastic studying marine biology abroad in Australia, when he is actually living with you and your roommate in Seoul still figuring who the hell he is. As per your mother, nobody knows I guess. Nobody really knows, and neither do you. But, let’s pretend I do not know that for now.

Your eyes were looking for where to sit. You looked unsure if you should sit next to Kim Eunseo, the third year student in the acting department known for vomiting on her boyfriend, or the empty spot in front of me, the teacher assistant for chemical thermodynamics. Or maybe, you want to sit beside Na Jaemin, the heartthrob freshman of Hanyang University. The boy was perfect; pretty face, honey-like voice, and takes media studies and journalism under a 50% scholarship. But, I am better. I am better for you, and not that heartthrob, and neither is your ‘small’ crush on Dong fucking Sicheng who also happens to like you. Your eyes scanned over the empty seats, and for whatever god or spirit that was listening to me, you seemed to walk over to my space. Good job, you’re taking the initiative to come near me. It’s good progress my dear.

‘Hi, Yuta right? Is it alright if I can use the socket in front of you for my iPad?’ So that was the reason. Maybe next time you will willingly sit near me because of me, and not for that device of yours. And it’s been almost two years my love, how are you still so unsure about my name?

‘Yeah, of course, here let me plug it in for you… y/n right?’ That’s good Yuta, do the same thing your loved one does. You smiled brightly in return, nodding your head in approval. You should smile more my dear, it looks wonderful on you. So much more wonderful than the sorrowful and heavy eyes you have whenever you come home when having to deal with that gigantic brother of yours from both family and school stress. But trust me, all of this pain and pressure will all be lifted once you fall into my arms. I will keep you safe and loved. Your hand reached out of your bag for the charger, the white wire coiling against your smooth skin. My dear, the things you do so innocently can mean something else for people like me. Imagine your vulnerable and frail little body tied up against the bed with a white rope, it will look so good against your skin. For a person so intelligent academically, I wonder why you have a crush on a man who just so happens to like you back. He’s such as ass acting all cute and innocent when in reality he just wants you to teach him and give your notes just so that he can pass Biology 101. Your hand, or I guess the charger, made its way to mine, our skin touching for a brief second. Our first time holding hands.

‘Thank you so much. And just for the record, I do know that your name is Yuta. You’re the TA for chemical thermodynamics. And also because that was the class I got highest in’ you added, smiling shyly as you look at your iPad, probably a digital copy of your polymer chemistry textbook. Of course you got the highest in that subject. Yes you are intelligent, highly intelligent if I have to say, but a 97% as an average may slightly be an exaggeration in comparison to your original average of a 83%.

‘Ah yes of course. 97% in chemical thermodynamics, how can I ever forget you.’ I added with a smile.

‘Surprisingly yeah. I genuinely thought material chemistry was my best, but now I guess it’s thermodynamics.’ You added. You’re not lying. Material chemistry was, and still is your best. You’re doing great in all subjects love, so you do not need to worry about that. It’s just your fucked up brother, and your insufferable crush.

‘Well you did amazingly well on your test. With a brain like yours, you would be wanted to come join the seminars for your thesis paper you’ll write in the next 2 years.’ You only smiled in return, your go-to-move when you just want to start working on your stuff. I saw that happen way too many times. For example, two years ago on the 7th of December at the café, the waiter asked for your phone number, but you only smiled and rejected in response. Last year on April 30th when you were on your trip to Jeju island with your friends, Yeeun and Sooyoung, you wanted to stay in your hotel room because you were tired, so you smiled to the girls and rejected their offer to go to beach. And what did you do instead while your friends were swimming and tanning? You masturbated while watching lesbian porn on that exact same iPad you are studying from. With that note, I let you work on whatever you had to do, while I should be checking the current materials in the lab for the lab experiment for the freshmen students. God I hate being a TA.

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It has been exactly three hours and seventeen minutes since you came, working hard on your notes as you listen to piano versions of kpop songs. You’re honestly so cute sometimes, it’s really hard to control myself and devour you. But that time shall come naturally to us one day. If not, I will ensure it will happen.

‘Hey, can I ask something?’ Are you talking to me? I looked up at the love of my life. Your eyes looking at me, very clear to me that you want something.

‘Yeah, what is it?’ Well that sounded quite rude. 

‘I know that you’re a Chemistry graduate student, and as mentioned earlier, you work as a teacher assistant. I was wondering if there is a job open at the university? I do work at the clothing store, but I sorta need more income since I have to move apartments. Anyway, um, is there a job open?’ You asked. More jobs to move? What the fuck, is your roommate kicking you out? Your voice sounded so… desperate, needy, broken. You were broken.

‘Well I doubt it you can be a TA, but I’ll see if I can get you the lab technician position, or maybe the university’s official peer tutor. I’ll see what I can do.’ And there is that beautiful smile again. Obviously I will have to actually ask the professors and administrators, but they know your reputation and capabilities love. They talk about how you’re ready to go to graduate school in an instant, and how you’ll be a great asset in the research department. I promise you, your life will be perfect the moment those two men stop dragging you, especially Lucas.

‘Thank you so, so, so, much Yuta. Here, let me give you my contact for easier access…’ Good job my dear, good job.

Wine is disgusting. The amount of tannin present is so overwhelming, leaving an unpleasant taste in your mouth. I don’t know why you like it love, but here I am in a restaurant that serves multiple different types of wine. Red, white, mulled, rose—all of which I know you will greatly enjoy. I want to question why you drink this, but I know. It’s all you ever post on that nonsensical Instagram page of yours. Wine. Wine. Wine. Sometimes there’s a splash of red, or clear bubbles coming from time to time. You’re a mess, a drunken mess. Which is why I am here; I will fix everything for you. Knowing that you texted your group chat entitled as ‘vagina power’ twenty-three minutes ago that you were on the way to the restaurant, you should walk through that door in three, two, on—

‘Excuse me, is Mr. Nakamoto Yuta here?’ Your voice asked the waitress.  Technology never fails, I can assure you that. There you were in your clothes from class today. You had medicinal chemistry, human physiology, organic chemistry, analytical chemistry, then ended the day with Korean—you must be exhausted my love. While you were apologising being late as you made your way to the table, all I could notice were your dark under eyes, the dullness in your eyes, and the slight oiliness on your scalp. You are overworked and internally dead. Despite my one year and a bit of research on you, what I could never answer was why you are working so damn hard and not letting one in to help you. Yes, I know that it is your goal to be this highly skilled pharmacist to help your brother, but you yourself knows that even without the excessive revising, you will still make it. Back in senior high school a guy named Kim Yugyeom asked you out, and you said no. You also said no to Park Jimin, Kim Jungwoo, Bang Chan, and even your first ever crush in Grade 11—Yoo Jeongyeon. She made you think girls were for you, but you still said no even if you two fucked in the laboratory because you didn’t ‘finish’ your experiment. Why do you always say no?

‘… thank you so much.’ You were still talking?

‘No problem at all. So, how’s university?’ Keep the conversation going Yuta, keep it going.

‘Well, it is challenging and heavy, but I guess I am doing fine. But now that I get the lab technician job, it will hopefully get better’ you say much more cheerfully, contrasting the tiredness and paleness of your face. You’re an unheard ghost.

‘Well that is how university is. But to congratulate you for your new job, we must make a toast!’ You raised your glass, and so do I, and we clinked. My, how can you not love this person. The moment I see you, all I want to do is hug you, protect you, and love you. If I can make you mine, treat you as my own, I will be the happiest man on the earth.

‘So how did you become a TA?’ You asked as you sipped your alcoholic beverage; your plush lips pressing so tightly against the rim of the glass cup and—Yuta, stop it. 

‘Well, I took Chemistry only for my undergrad, and a bit of IT and languages. Then the professor, Professor Seo, asked me to be his teacher assistant initially for organic chemistry. But, I hated that subject and I ended up negotiating to change my position after a month. Then I got the chemical thermodynamics TA job. It’s honestly the exact same job, but I just prefer this topic.’ This is most likely that only truth that I have told you, and you were still listening to me for every word. A true listener with a bright mind, yet not bright enough to realise I have been watching you for more than one year.

‘Well, I think that is great. But let’s move away from academics, I just had five classes straight and I will honestly evaporate into thin air if I hear the c-word again.’ You say as you slightly chuckle. Alright then, what should we talk about? The reason to why you’re leaving your apartment? Your reason to deny people’s offer when they ask you out on a date? Why you overwork yourself to death to a point where you’re affecting yourself physically? Tell me, I need to know.

‘So you wanted to leave your current apartment right? Why’s that?’ You froze for a while. Eyebrows furrowed, eyes moving to the side. Almost unsure if you should respond to my question. You do have a point though, this is by far our first oral conversation, you barely know me.

‘I can’t afford my current apartment anymore since I kind of forced my brother to be moved to the hospital. So I need to save up more money to pay for hospital bills and the cheaper apartment.’ You quietly replied, your eyes still avoiding mine.

‘Oh no, what happened to your brother?’

‘He’s sick. Mentally ill.’ Well, at least you’re not lying to me. Though you could have said that your brother was kicked out of the University of Adelaide for failing all his classes, then he moved back to Seoul with you all high and reliant on that white powdery poison. It has been two years, and he was barely improving, and you had to move him to a hospital. Why didn’t you tell your father who loves the both of you unconditionally? It was because for that exact reason—he loves the two of you unconditionally. You knew for a fact that once your father finds out that your brother is a drug addict mess, Lucas is cut from the family, and you just could not let that happen. You two grew up together, and he used to take care of you a lot when you were in high school. He helped you drive around places, or libraries per se, and he also bought you snacks and all. He seemed to be very happy and caring back then, and you do not know what happened to him the moment he touched down in Australia.

‘I’m sorry to hear that. I hope he gets better soon.’

‘Thank you, I hope he does too.’ The conversation is dying Yuta, quick, think of something.

‘So when are you planning to move?’

‘Oh um, maybe sometime in February or end of January. I will be getting my apartment keys in the next two weeks, so yeah, around those times.’ I better clean up my schedule during that time then.

‘Hey if you need help in moving, just let me know. I will be willing to help.’ Your eyes finally looked up to meet mine, slightly bigger than usual as the corner of your lips were about to rise. You were about to reject my offer.

‘I-I think it’s fine, I’ll be able to manage on my own—‘

‘No, no, I insist. You’re going through quite a bit, the least I can do is help you move in your stuff.’ You nodded instead, bringing your lips to a tight line. You’re considering my offer aren’t you?

‘Alright, I’ll let you know when I’m moving.’ You say as you comb your hair backwards with your fingers. I cannot wait to make you mine.

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It’s been about two months since we had our first proper conversation, and we have not stopped since.

‘You know, Ikea is the greatest thing that has ever came into existence.’ You say, carrying the big wooden compartment for your bed. Which will eventually be our bed, but I can wait.

‘Hmm, I remembered a few days ago you said ice cream was the greatest invention in human history.’ And it is arguably true. It’s comfort food, and keeps you happy from the amount of sugar stored in which makes your brain beg for more. It’s addicting yet unhealthy, but you cannot stop yourself. You crave it when you’re happy, sad, angry, stressed, tired— it’s designed for you to be beg, and beg, and be—

‘Ice cream is a great invention, I do not deny that. We should get ice cream afterwards once we’re done building this bed.’ You smiled at me, again. That beautiful and bright smile of yours can melt anyone my dear, you better be careful before you flash it to anyone else. ‘Anyway, we should go back to building this thing, I want to sleep tonight’ you added, moving your legs again to attach the next piece of the bed frame. Maybe I misread you a bit, you seem to work hard in everything. Not only in academics, but you’ve been doing your best in the lab, academically, ensuring your brother feels safe at the hospital, and even in making a goddamn bed frame for yourself. It is almost as if you barely take any breaks, and yet you do not seem to mind. Maybe you just enjoy to work hard.

‘Ice cream later is it then. Are you the type to eat those weird flavours like into mint chocolate or strawberry cheesecake, or some shit like that?’ Of course I knew what you liked. A few months ago, October the 12th to be exact, you went for ice cream with your lab partner, Sana, and you had chocolate only. You claimed yourself to be an avid chocolate lover. I honestly do not blame you for that.

‘I don’t think they’re weird or anything, but I just prefer to have plain chocolate. I just like chocolate in general. How about you?’

‘I’m more of a matcha type of guy.’ Another honest thing that came out of my mouth. You chuckled in response, nodding your head up and down just by a little. You want to say something don’t you? ‘What is it?’ I asked.

‘Oh, it’s nothing too bad. It’s just very Japanese of you,’ you answered, trying to snap yourself out of a giggly state. Cute. After our small chat, we eventually set up the wooden frame, and placed the mattress on top along with placing of the beige bedsheet. I can’t believe this will be the exact same bed where we’ll have our first everything, including our children. We will have two beautiful daughters: Saya and Emiko. They will be four years apart, and both girls will be at least bilingual. They will also love and cherish the both of us. With our combined intelligence, our girls will conquer the industries, wrapping the entire world in their little, delicate fingers. We will be a perfect family of four, and this bed, the one we have just made together, will be with us until the end. Just before my mind could go somewhere else, your tired body dropped on the newly made bed, feeling the softness and the warmth provided by the material.

‘I know you’re tired too Yuta, you should lay down too,’ you say with your eyes closed, both your hands interlocking with one another just above your abdomen. From what I know, you only do this when you are really tired, thinking of all sort of different scenarios. Since you asked me to anyway, I laid down beside your exhausted body, embracing the same warmth the bed is providing. ‘You know, I’ve never really had anyone over at my place since I’m so busy and all, but I’m glad you came and helped me move’ you softly say, your eyes finally open as your orbs look directly up at the plain ceiling.

‘It’s not a problem really, you do seem tired during lessons so I figured helping you a bit can hopefully ease whatever you’re going through.’ You grinned at what I said, as if you somewhat agree. I do hope it’s true my dear. You had it tough with your brother, but I will assure you that you will become the pharmacist you deserve to be.

‘You did, Yuta. You did.’ The bed slightly shifted, only to see you on your side as you look at me, and here I am looking back at you. Without hesitation, your lips pressed against mine, something I did not expect at all. Since when were you like this? Have I misread you all this time? You rejected so many different guys and one girl, yet now you are acting to brave and different in contrast to my observations and research over the past years. Although multiple questions came across my head, this does not mean I have to stop whatever you just began. 

Your warm hand made its way to my left cheek, rubbing the cheek back and forth with your thumb, almost the same gesture when you caress your loved ones. Grabbing your left leg, I pulled over my body, allowing you to sit on top of me, our bodies so close to being connected, to being united. The kiss did not break at all, in fact, it deepened. You surprisingly took the initiative to tap the velvety muscle on my bottom lip, so needy to enter the hot cavern. Maybe this is your way to ensure that you can trust me, and that somebody can love you forever. Maybe this is a process of yours to know that you will be taken care of for eternity. I deserve to be with you my love, you are everything to me, and I know I will be your everything. Your tongue eventually slipped through my lips; both our wet muscles meeting each others, exploring each others caverns for the first time. My arms were holding you tightly against my body, keeping your fragile body on top of mine—I do not want to let you go. But, how do I know that you really want this? Despite the fact that I do not want this to end, I had to pull away, just to be sure. Our mouths slowly separated with the presence of a string of wetness proving the intense session we just had. Your forehead fell against mine, your eyes clouded with lust as you pant heavily against me.

‘Do you still want to do this?’ I have to know.

‘Y-yes, please make me feel good’ you whispered against me. Fuck.

*Disclaimer: sex scene will begin from here. This will be a female x male smut scene, so if this is something you do not want to read, please scroll down until you see another disclaimer similar to this. Please keep in mind that I will write a male x male scene, so please do not feel too disappointed. I am sorry that I was not able to write it on the same day as the publication. Thank you.

Our lips reconnected again, only this time, the feeling was much more intense. I poured in all of my frustration of waiting, and the amount of love and lust I have for you my love. I flipped us over, finally seeing your sensitive and fragile body below me. You are a sight to see my dear, but only for me. I have seen the way your body trembles as your delicate fingers enter in and out of you; your legs shake uncontrollably, your free hand unconsciously slips inside your hot mouth trying to keep yourself quiet, and your beautiful face contorts in pure pleasure. I want you to do the exact same, but I want you to be louder, and I want to be the one pleasuring you. The moment our tongues touched again, I took the initiative to envelop your velvety muscle with my lips, tasting you completely, leaving you as a moaning mess under me. So you like this. I continued to do so as your hips slightly rocks back and forth, your covered sex rubbing against me. Leaving your mouth, I peppered kisses down your addictive skin, taking in the honey-like scent you had. Soft whimpers escaped your throat, clearly enjoying the amount of care and love you were receiving. You deserve this. My hands slipped under your shirt, feeling the soft and supple skin until I met your clothed breasts. Massaging the flesh against my hands, your fingers crawled up behind my neck, slowly making its way to my hair, pulling the roots so gently. My dear, you are indeed irresistible.

‘Yuta t-touch me please,’ you beg, moving your hips even rougher than before, almost as if you are trying to reach for your orgasm by yourself. I chuckled at your submissive manner, knowing exactly what to do to make you come.

‘You want to come my princess? Do you want your pretty pussy to come over my tongue? You’d like that won’t you as you beg nonstop.’ I read that on your diary, you wanted someone to go down on you and make you orgasm uncontrollably, and you want to repeat the process until you beg them to stop. My dear, you are one dirty little girl. You only whimpered in response, nodding your head vigorously. Although it would have been ideal to get a response from you, I know for a fact that the last time you got laid was five months ago with your colleague at the clothing store, Lee Minho. I hope that he is forgotten. Pulling your shirt up, I kissed down from your supple skin until I met the top of your black sweats. I slowly pulled at the strings as my eyes looked up to meet yours. There you were with your glossy and lust-filled eyes as your bite your finger, anticipating what would happen to you. Your chest was heaving up and down as I pulled at your pants, only to reveal you in your sheer white bra and panties. What a fucking sight. Pulling your legs apart, a visible wet patch was displayed, showing a clear outline of your pink lips begging to be destroyed.

‘I haven’t even touched your greedy little hole and yet you are so wet princess.’ Before you could even say anything, my tongue made contact with the soaked cloth, tasting the sweet essence as a moan of relief escaped your throat. Continuing to lick up and down against your clothed sex, your fingers made it to the roots of my hair as your slowly rock your core against my face. Your moans slowly turned louder and louder, and all I can say is, I was definitely going to implode. Allowing you to take control of me, your legs started to tremble on either side of my head as the tip of my tongue was on your covered clitoris. To further intensify the feeling, I pulled your barely existing panties to the side, sucking on your clit, tasting you properly, eating you out like a starved man.

‘Fuck!’ You screamed, legs shaking vigorously as your fingers left my hair for your lips. Without letting you rest, I grabbed both of your legs, pushing my tongue into your dripping entrance, pathetically clenching around it. What a fucking whore. Moans and sounds of me eating your core filled the room, and whoever is living beside you is surely going to know you as a slut. ‘Y-yuta shit I’m coming again,’ you moaned, your head thrown back against the pillow underneath you. Pulling the warm velvet out of your sticky cavern, I slipped in two fingers, moving in and out of you as I watch you in pure euphoria. Just like that, your legs closed and shook, screaming for the second time tonight. Taking out the fingers, I slowly made my way up to your fucked out body, only to see your lips red from the biting, as well as your teary eyes from your orgasms. I pushed the fingers through your lips, and like the good girl you are, you immediately sucked in my fingers, leaving me to imagine all the things you can do with that sweet little mouth of yours.

‘Fuck me please, god I need you in me’ you say breathing heavily, as if trying to understand how you were coping with two orgasms in one go. You said you needed me. Kissing you one more time, I finally unzipped my pants, releasing the solid member that sprung against my lower abdomen. As I removed my sweater, your eyes were staring at the red tip whereas your licked your bottom lip.

‘I’m going to enter alright,’ I whispered beside your ear, peppering feather-like kisses on your face. You froze a bit in place, though I was not exactly sure why. You did not seem to say anything, but it may be because you are finally being with the man who truly deserves you. Placing myself on your dripping hole, I looked at you one last time before anything else goes wrong, or if I miscalculated everything.

‘Just put it in Yuta, I’m on birth control, no need to worry’ you impatiently said, waiting to be filled and feel immense pleasure. Taking in your words, I slowly pushed myself in you, trying my best not to hurt you or bring you to any sort of pain. But my god, were you tight. Your velvet-like walls enclosed around my hard cock, almost impossible for me to go further in. You gasped loudly, pulling yourself closer to me as you held your hands behind my neck, feeling every once of me. ‘Oh my fucking god, I’m so full.’

I pushed myself further with one of my hands on your lower abdomen to keep you stable. ‘Shit you’re so tight, stop me if I go to harsh on—‘

‘Just fuck me Yuta, I don’t want to go gentle, please just do it.’ What?

*Disclaimer: smut scene has ended.

‘Y/n how else will I make love to you if you want to go rough on our first time?’ I asked, trying my best not to lose my temper. Why on earth do you want to go rough? Isn’t that why the reason you rejected all of those guys so that you can finally be with the one that truly deserves you, and can protect you from anything? Your eyes only grew wide at what I said, slowly pushing yourself off me.

‘Make love? Yuta, we’ve only started talking for like two months, what do you mean make love?’ You asked, successfully pushing yourself off of me, slowly pulling the blanket to cover yourself. Why are you acting like this?

‘You kissed me on your newly made bed, what else was I suppose to thi—‘

‘I was only asking for a quick fuck, not a whole love-making session Yuta. I think you should go home and rethink what you just said, I don’t think you’re in your right mind right now.’ How can you say that? I have loved you since you entered the class with, asking thought provoking questions to the professor. I have loved you since you were at the lab, working on your experiment until eight in the evening. I have loved you since you helped that customer in your shop many months ago, trying your best to communicate with the old woman in her mother tongue. You were always so patient, hard-working, and submissive— how can I not love you?

‘No! I do mean it, I do love you. How can I not? You always work so hard and made sure that you and your brother, and your academics were both in good condition. You are my dream, how can I not love you?’

‘Yuta, you’re saying the most insane shit. Please leave. What happens between me and my brother and my studies only should be limited to me, and not you’ you answered, not believing any word I said.

‘I am being normal, you’re just too busy and stubborn to believe anything I am saying! I have taken so much good care of you. I helped you get a job, I paid for all the meals and snacks we had together, I helped make your fucking bed, and you repay me by being your fuck buddy?’ You were infuriating. You were not like this when I watched you on a daily basis.

‘Well I’m sorry if you thought that I was trying to make you as my boyfriend or something, but I do not have time for that Yuta. I am truly sorry if that is what you thought, and if you do not want to see me anymore, I completely understand that—‘

‘No! You rejected Kim Yugyeom, Park Jimin, Kim Jungwoo, Bang Chan, Yoo Jeongyeon, and you do not let anyone else to love you. Is it because you’re too busy taking care of your drug addict of a brother?’ Your eyes grew wider than it already was, your mouth left agape unsure of how to react. Shit.

‘H-how do you know all of t-these things?’ Your voice was shaking, the fear on your face clearly visibly.

‘That’s not m-my point. What I am trying to say is—‘

‘Yuta, have you been stalking me?’ Yes, I have.

‘What? No, I wasn’t. You’re dodging my question again.’ Shit, Yuta. Think, think, think.

‘Then how do you know about my brother?’ You asked, fear and shock still evident on that beautiful face of yours. I made my way to her, gently cupping your face in my hand.

‘I h-heard about it from s-somewhere—‘

‘Get your hands off me! Tell me how you know all about this!’ You shouted, ripping my hands off of you. Without thinking, my hand came in contact with your skin. Loudly.

I slapped you.

A bright red mark was left on your face, eyes filled with tears, unsure if it was from the pain, or from our argument.

‘Shit, no, I didn’t mean that. Fuck, okay, y/n, let’s talk about this like adults’ I said, trying my best to diverge her thoughts away from what just happened. But I know that it will not work, you are one of the smartest people to exist, and you do not let yourself down easily like that.

‘Get the fuck out Yuta. You’re insane.’ Why are you not listening to me? I grabbed your body, leaving you to scream for help, pleading to be freed away from me— but I am not letting that happen. You are mine. I tightly wrapped my hand against your throat to make you shut up, making sure that you listen and concentrate on every word that I will say to you. You need to be disciplined love, especially if we will be together.

‘I need to know why you’re acting like this otherwise we will not be a happy couple. You are my everything, and I should be yours. I made you enter a world of euphoria with my mouth alone just a few moments ago, and you rejecting my love and pushing me away will not work. I have loved you the moment my eyes laid on you, and I need you to love me back’ I explained, watching your face slowly lose colour as your screams died down, but I do not care. You need to listen to my every word and acknowledge it. ‘You will be my partner for the rest of your life, and so will I. We will have two beautiful daughters, and you will also be able to help Lucas medically without letting your father know. But before we can do any of that, you need to be disciplined and I am here for that. Do you understand me?’

No response.

‘I said do you understand me.’

Still no response.

Your face was pale, eyes were closed, body cold. You were lifeless. Y/n,  we were supposed to be together forever. We were supposed to have children, have you become a pharmacist, we were supposed to be in love together. Holding your lifeless body in my arms, I rocked your bare body back and forth— you’re not dead my love, you’re just resting. Yes, you’re resting.

‘Y-you’re not dead. I was just teaching you a lesson, but you seemed to become tired. It’s okay, we’ll do it another time. I love you so so much, I will never hurt you my love. Never.’ A dark laugh left my throat as tears rolled down my face. I finally had you in my arms, finally.

a/n: WEEEEEE i wrote that???? okay umm while i’ll be too busy screaming at myself for writing THAT scene, i hope everyone enjoyed it despite the fact that mcfucking yuta was a creep, but yeAhhhH. i am honestly quite paranoid after finishing ‘you’ cause i keep thinking that someone is in the house, but not really, but yeah... the show was good though. let me know if you also watched it cause i would really like to talk about it with you. and also, HAPPY NEW YEAR! i hope ya’ll had a fun time celebrating it. 

明けましておめでとうございます！今年もよろしくお願いします。今まで英語だけで話を作ったので、今年日本語でやってみたいと思います。

祝你新年快乐！万事如意也心想事成❤️

[spiritualdirections]

Researchers at Columbia create 40 people, kill them after gene editing mistake

https://www.wsj.com/articles/crispr-gene-editing-can-lead-to-big-mistakes-in-human-embryos-11603983608

“...Researchers in the new study published in Cell said they used sperm from a single human donor to create 40 embryos. The man has hereditary blindness caused by a mutation on the EYS gene, which is located on chromosome 6, one of the 23 pairs in humans. The scientists used Crispr-Cas9 to cut the father’s DNA at the site of the gene mutation they wanted to correct. When a cut is made in the DNA, the cell tries to repair the DNA.

“Scientists injected a Crispr-Cas9 enzyme into 37 embryos, and three other embryos served as controls. The scientists found that about half of the embryos lost large segments of the chromosome, or the entire chromosome, on which the EYS gene is located. “This is a very adverse outcome,” Dr. Egli said.”

[Full article below the break.]

Crispr Gene Editing Can Lead to Big Mistakes in Human Embryos

Columbia University study of Crispr technology found it made unwanted chromosomal changes in human embryos

Scientists using the Crispr gene-editing technology in human embryos to try to repair a gene that causes hereditary blindness found it made unintended and unwanted changes, frequently eliminating an entire chromosome or large sections of it.

The study published Thursday in the journal Cell comes as the international scientific community continues to grapple with the potential use of Crispr for editing human embryos that would be intended for creating a pregnancy and birth.

In September, an international commission sponsored by the U.S. National Academy of Medicine, U.S. National Academy of Sciences and the U.K.’s Royal Society issued a report stating that the gene-editing technology isn’t ready for such a use because scientists don’t understand how to make precise fixes without also introducing potentially dangerous changes.

Dieter Egli, assistant professor of developmental cell biology at Columbia University and the study’s senior author, said, “This study is not going to stop the field. But we have to ask what to do with these powerful tools, and in which context they are safe and efficacious.”...

Two separate papers published earlier this month indicate that the ethical debate continues over whether and under what circumstances creating genetically modified children could be permissible.

One paper, published in the Crispr Journal, solicited views of more than three dozen experts on issues raised in the international commission’s September report on Crispr germ-line editing. The technique—which involves making changes to eggs, sperm and embryos—is controversial because any changes can be passed to future generations. The paper revealed major differences of opinion among leading scholars, including Jennifer Doudna, the University of California, Berkeley, biochemist who with a colleague was awarded the Nobel Prize in chemistry this year for pioneering work on Crispr.

In her comments on the report, Dr. Doudna said the commission’s recommendations reflect consensus in the field that the technology shouldn’t be used for embryo editing in the clinic at this time. She added that she was struck by the inclusion of certain diseases that are already being managed, such as cystic fibrosis, with disorders where embryo editing might someday be permissible.

The other paper, also published in the Crispr Journal, surveyed policies across 106 countries regarding germ-line gene editing. The researchers found 96 of the countries already had applicable policy documents, such as legislation, regulations or international treaties. Of those 96 countries, 75 bar the use of genetically modified embryos for the purpose of starting a pregnancy—an indication that it might be possible to create an international consensus on the issue, the researchers said.

Crispr enables scientists to cut, edit and insert DNA and has been an object of excitement, fascination and controversy since its discovery in 2012. The technology opens up the possibility of treating severe illness for which there are no effective therapies. Trials are under way or expected to start soon in patients with cancer, sickle-cell anemia and other conditions in China, Europe and the U.S.

The potential to use Crispr to create genetically modified babies has been an area of major concern, especially after the 2018 announcement of the birth of twin girls from embryos whose DNA had been changed using the Crispr technology.

A second woman implanted with a genetically modified embryo is also believed to have given birth.

Very little is known about the health of the babies. He Jiankiu, the Chinese researcher who spearheaded the experiments, was sentenced to three years in prison after being found guilty last year in a court in China of conducting illegal medical practices.

Researchers in the new study published in Cell said they used sperm from a single human donor to create 40 embryos. The man has hereditary blindness caused by a mutation on the EYS gene, which is located on chromosome 6, one of the 23 pairs in humans.

The scientists used Crispr-Cas9 to cut the father’s DNA at the site of the gene mutation they wanted to correct. When a cut is made in the DNA, the cell tries to repair the DNA.

Scientists injected a Crispr-Cas9 enzyme into 37 embryos, and three other embryos served as controls.

The scientists found that about half of the embryos lost large segments of the chromosome, or the entire chromosome, on which the EYS gene is located.

“This is a very adverse outcome,” Dr. Egli said.

Scientists still don’t know a lot about the mechanisms of human embryo development. The U.S. government doesn’t permit the use of federal funding to conduct research on human embryos. The research for the Cell study was funded by private donations from the New York Stem Cell Foundation and the Russell Berrie Foundation Program in Cellular Therapies.

Dr. Egli said scientists know more about the cell and molecular biology of flies, worms and mice embryos than human embryos. He said the current study seems to indicate that “the human embryo seems unique in its poor ability to fix a DNA break.” The significance of the biological finding “goes beyond the debate” over the use of Crispr in embryos, he said.

Nonetheless, the ethical debate will likely continue alongside development of the technology. Françoise Baylis, university research professor at Dalhousie University in Canada, one of the authors on both Crispr Journal papers, said that much of the debate within the scientific community over editing human embryos focused on whether the technology is safe and effective enough to use. “That’s not the right question to start with,” Dr. Baylis said. “I am not asking if the science is ready. I am asking what problems do we want to solve, and what science will help us solve them.” Dr. Baylis is a member of a World Health Organization expert advisory panel set up last year to issue global standards and guidelines for editing of the human genome. The panel hasn’t yet issued its guidance.

Marcy Darnovsky of the Center for Genetics and Society in Berkeley, Calif., a public-interest advocacy group in human genetics and assisted reproductive technologies and one of the authors of the global policy study, said the Cell paper indicates the substantial technical challenges that remain surrounding Crispr gene editing of embryos. “It gives us time,” she said. “There is still a window to have a meaningful conversation about the social questions.”

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: My granddaughter is 16 and in the us navy sea cadet program here in the USA. She hopes to become a naval aviator. She love reading military books. Any recommendations for her. Her mom says she reads anything military from equipment to history. I could use advice on a reading list to buy books for her. William Law

Thank you William for sending me this. It’s certainly one of the most interesting asks I’ve ever had the pleasure to reply to because it involves my love of Classics and also being a former military aviator.

So I put some thought into it because I can sense a kindred spirit in your grand daughter. She must be a remarkable young girl if she is as focused and committed as you say she is in terms of her life goals. If I may say so she is also blessed to have a grandfather like you who recognises the value of reading books to aid her and inspire her.

I have tried to confine myself to the narrow parameters of recommending books that can appeal to a precocious teenager that have a connection to naval and maritime themes (rather than the landed military) and have a general connection to women in the navy or as aviators. So the list is broken into personal memoirs, naval and maritime history, fictional works, and finally a select Classics list.

If you will indulge me I have included the Classics because I firmly believe a grounding in the Classics (from as early age as possible) is so culturally enriching and personally rewarding. In my experience the wisest military leaders and veterans I have ever had the privilege of knowing were grounded in the Classics.

To my mind Classic history, literature and poetry belongs in any library relating to maritime affairs. It provides a flavour of sea life, helping strategists understand this alien element. Just as important, it enlivens the topic. As you will know, ships and fleets do not make history; people do.

It is by no means a comprehensive list but something to start with. I’ve decided not to give you a bullet point laundry list but add some notes of my own because I found it fun to do - and in doing so I found myself looking back on my teenage years with equal icky amounts of embarrassment, regret, foolishness, fun, and joy. 

1. Personal memoirs

West with the Night by Beryl Markham

‘Poetry in flight’ best describes this 1942 memoir from aviatrix Beryl Markham of bush flying in Africa and long-distance flight, which includes her solo flight across the Atlantic. Lyrical and expressive her descriptions of the adventure of flying continue to inspire generations of women pilots, including myself when I learned to fly.

Markham was a colonial child and was raised by her father on a remote farm in Njoro, British East Africa (present-day Kenya). After a tomboyish childhood spent roaming the Kenyan wilds, she moved upcountry to Molo, becoming a racehorse trainer. There she saw her first plane and met British pilot Tom Black, who became her flight instructor and lover. Soon Markham earned her commercial pilot’s license, the first woman in Kenya to do so, and began to freelance as a bush pilot. Much of West With the Night concerns itself with this period in Markham’s life, detailing her flights in an Avro Avian biplane running supplies to remote outposts or scouting game for safaris.

Since airfields were essentially nonexistent in Africa at the time, Markham’s flights were particularly dangerous, punctuated with white-knuckle landings in forest clearings and open fields. In fact the dangers of African flying claimed the lives of a number of aviators. Markham eloquently describes her own search for a downed pilot: “Time and distance together slip smoothly past the tips of my wings without sound, without return, as I peer downward over the night-shadowed hollows of the Rift Valley and wonder if Woody, the lost pilot, could be there, a small pinpoint of hope and of hopelessness listening to the low, unconcerned song of the Avian - flying elsewhere.”

Markham’s memoir shies away from personal details - she is rumoured to have had an affair with an English prince - and straightforward chronology, instead focusing on vivid scenes gathered from a well-lived life. Rarely does one encounter such an evocative sense of a time and place as she creates. The heat and dust of Africa emanate from her prose. Anyone interested in aviation, in Africa, or in simply reading an absorbing book will find much to like in its pages. Ernest Hemingway, a friend and fellow safari enthusiast, wrote of Markham’s memoir, “I wish you would get it and read it because it really is a bloody wonderful book.”

It is a bloody brilliant book and it’s one of the books closest to my heart as it personally resonated with my nomadic life growing up in foreign countries where once the British empire made its mark.

I first read it on my great aunt’s Kenyan tea farm during the school holidays in England. I got into huge trouble for taking a treasured first edition - personally signed by Markham herself - from the library of my great aunt without permission. My great aunt - not an easy woman to get on with given her questionable eccentricities - wrote a stern letter to the head teacher of my girls’ boardng school in England that the schools standards and moral Christian teachings must be in terminal decline if girls were encouraged to pilfer books willy nilly from other people’s bookshelves and thus she would not - as an alum herself - be donating any more money to the school. It was one more sorry blot in my next school report.

Fly Girls: How Five Daring Women Defied All Odds and Made Aviation History by Keith O’Brien

For pioneering pilots of the 1920s and 1930s, the challenges were enormous. For women it was even more daunting. In this marvellous history, Keith O’Brien recounts the early years of aviation through a generation of American female pilots who carved out a place for themselves and their sisterhood. Despite the sensation they created, each “went missing in her own way.” This is the inspiring untold story of five women from very different walks of life - including a New York socialite, an Oakland saleswoman, a Florida dentist’s secretary and a Boston social worker - who fought and competed against men in the  high-stakes national air races of the 1920s and 1930s — and won.

Between the world wars, no sport was more popular, or more dangerous, than airplane racing. Thousands of fans flocked to multi-day events, and cities vied with one another to host them. The pilots themselves were hailed as dashing heroes who cheerfully stared death in the face. Well, the men were hailed. Female pilots were more often ridiculed than praised for what the press portrayed as silly efforts to horn in on a manly and deadly pursuit. The derisive press dubbed the first women’s national air race “The Powder Puff Derby.”

It’s a brisk, spirited history of early aviation focused on 5 irrepressible women. Florence Klingensmith, a high-school dropout who worked for a dry cleaner in Fargo, North Dakota, and who trained as a mechanic so she could learn planes inside and out but whose first aviation job was as a stunt girl, standing on a wing in her bathing suit. Louise McPhetridge Thaden a girl who grew up as a tomboy and later became the mother of two young kids who got her start selling coal in Wichita. Ruth Elder, an Alabama divorcee was determined to be the first woman to fly across the Atlantic. Amelia Earhart was of course the most famous, but not necessarily the most skilled. Ruth Nichols who chafed at the constraints of her blue-blood family's expectations of marrying into wealth and into high society.

In 1928, when women managed to get jobs in other male dominated fields, fewer than 12 had a pilot’s license, and those ambitious for prizes and recognition faced entrenched sexism from the men who ran air races, backed fliers, and financed the purchase of planes. They decided to organise: “For our own protection,” one of them said, “we must learn to think for ourselves, and do as much work as possible on our planes.” Although sometimes rivals in the air, they forged strong friendships and offered one another unabated encouragement. O’Brien vividly recounts the dangers of early flight: In shockingly rickety planes, pilots sat in open cockpits, often blinded by ice pellets or engine smoke; instruments were unreliable, if they worked at all; sudden changes in weather could be life threatening. Fliers regularly emerged from their planes covered in dust and grease. Crashes were common, with planes bursting into flames; but risking injury and even death failed to dampen the women’s passion to fly. And yet their bravery was only scoffed at by male prejudice. Iconic  oilman Erle Halliburton believed, “Women are lacking in certain qualities that men possess.” Florence Klingensmith’s crash incited a debate about allowing menstruating women to fly.

And yet these women still took off in wooden crates loaded with gasoline. They flew over mountains, deserts and seas without radar or even radios. When they came down, they knew that their landings might be their last. But together, they fought for the chance to race against the men - and in 1936 one of them would triumph in the toughest race of all. And When Louise Thaden became the first woman to win a national race, even the great Charles Lindbergh fell curiously silent.

O'Brien nicely weaves together the stories of these five remarkable women in the spirit of Tom Wolfe’s The Right Stuff who broke the glass ceiling to achieve greatness.

Thoughts of a Philosophical Fighter Pilot by James Stockdale

Thoughts on issues of character, leadership, integrity, personal and public virtue, and ethics, the selections in this volume converge around the central theme of how man can rise with dignity to prevail in the face of adversity- lessons just as valid for the challenges of present-day life as they were for the author’s Vietnam experience.Vice Admiral James Stockdale, a senior research fellow at the Hoover Institution, served in the U.S. Navy from 1947 to 1979, beginning as a test pilot and instructor at Patuxent River, Maryland, and spending two years as a graduate student at Stanford University. He became a fighter pilot and was shot down on his second combat tour over North Vietnam, becoming a prisoner of war for eight years, four in solitary confinement. The highest-ranking naval officer held during the Vietnam War, he was tortured fifteen times and put in leg irons for two years. It’s a book that makes you think how much character is important in good at anything, especially being a thoughtful and wise leader in the heat of battle.

Make Your Bed: Little Things That Can Change Your Life And Maybe The World by Admiral William H. McRaven   On May 17, 2014, Admiral William H. McRaven addressed the graduating class of the University of Texas at Austin on their Commencement day. Taking inspiration from the university's slogan, "What starts here changes the world," he shared the ten principles he learned during Navy Seal training that helped him overcome challenges not only in his training and long Naval career, but also throughout his life; and he explained how anyone can use these basic lessons to change themselves-and the world-for the better.

Admiral McRaven's original speech went viral with over 10 million views.

Building on the core tenets laid out in his speech, McRaven now recounts tales from his own life and from those of people he encountered during his military service who dealt with hardship and made tough decisions with determination, compassion, honour, and courage.

The book is told with great humility and optimism. It provides simple wisdom, practical advice, and words of encouragement that will inspire readers to achieve more, even in life's darkest moments.

Service: A Navy SEAL at War by Marcus Luttrell with James D. Hornfischer 

Navy SEAL Marcus Luttrell is more known for his other famous best seller Lone Survivor but this one I think is also a thrilling war story, Service is above all a profoundly moving tribute to the warrior brotherhood, to the belief that nobody goes it alone, and no one will be left behind. Luttrell returned from his star-crossed mission in Afghanistan with his bones shattered and his heart broken. So many had given their lives to save him-and he would have readily done the same for them. As he recuperated, he wondered why he and others, from America's founding to today, had been willing to sacrifice everything - including themselves-for the sake of family, nation, and freedom.

In Service, we follow Marcus Luttrell to Iraq, where he returns to the battlefield as a member of SEAL Team 5 to help take on the most dangerous city in the world: Ramadi, the capital of war-torn Al Anbar Province. There, in six months of high-intensity urban combat, he would be part of what has been called the greatest victory in the history of US Special Operations forces. We also return to Afghanistan and Operation Redwing, where Luttrell offers powerful new details about his miraculous rescue.

Throughout, he reflects on what it really means to take on a higher calling, about the men he's seen lose their lives for their country, and the legacy of those who came and bled before. I did rub shoulders with the US special forces community out on my time in Afghanistan and whilst their public image deifies them I found them to be funny, pranksters, humble, brave, and down to earth beer guzzling hogs who cheerfully cheat at cards.

The Spirit of St. Louis by Charles A. Lindbergh

Being one of the classics in aviation history, this well written book is an epic aviator’s adventure tale of all time. Charles Lindbergh is best known for its famous nonstop flight from New York to Paris in 1927 as it changed the history of aviation. “The Spirit of St. Louis” takes the reader on an extraordinary trans-Atlantic journey in a single-engine plane. As well as provides insight into the early history of American aviation and includes some great fuel conservation tips!

20 Hrs. 40 mins by Amelia Earhart

How can any woman pilot not be inspired by Amelia Earhart?  Earhart's first transatlantic flight of June 1928 during which she flew as a passenger accompanying pilot Wilmer Stultz and co-pilot Louis Gordon. The team departed from Trepassey Harbor, Newfoundland, in a Fokker F.VIIb/3m on 17 June 1928, landing at Pwll near Burry Port, South Wales, exactly 20 hours and 40 minutes later. The book is an interesting read but I much prefer her other book written in 1932 The Fun Of It. The book is Earhart's account of her growing obsession with flying, the final chapter of which is a last minute addition chronicling her historic solo transatlantic flight of 1932. The work contains the mini-record of Earhart's international broadcast from London on 22 May 1932. Earhart set out from Harbour Grace, Newfoundland on 20 May 1932. After a flight lasting 14 hours and 56 minutes Earhart landed in a pasture at Culmore, north of Derry, Northern Ireland. The work also includes a list of other works on aviation written by women, emblematic of Earhart's desire to promote women aviators.

2. Naval and military history

The U.S. Navy: A Concise History by Craig L Symonds

Symonds’s The U.S. Navy: A Concise History is a fantastic book from one of the doyennes of US naval history. I cannot think of any other work on the US Navy that provides such a thorough overview of American naval policy, navy combat operations, leadership, technology, and culture in such a succinct manner. This book is perfect for any reader - young or old -  just wading into the waters of naval history and not knowing where to start, or for someone who wishes to learn a little bit about each era of the navy, from its founding to its modern-day mission and challenges.

His other distinguished works are more in depth - mostly about the Second World War such as the Battle of Midway and the Normandy landings - but this is a good introduction to his magisterial books. His latest book came out in 2019 called World War II at Sea: A Global History. I have not read this yet but from others who have they say it is a masterful overview of the war at sea.

Six Frigates: The Epic History of the Founding of the U.S. Navy by Ian W. Toll

Before the ink was dry on the U.S. Constitution, the establishment of a permanent military became the most divisive issue facing the new government. The founders - particularly Jefferson, Madison, and Adams - debated fiercely. Would a standing army be the thin end of dictatorship? Would a navy protect from pirates or drain the treasury and provoke hostility? Britain alone had hundreds of powerful warships.

From the decision to build six heavy frigates, through the cliff-hanger campaign against Tripoli, to the war that shook the world in 1812, Ian W. Toll tells this grand tale with the political insight of Founding Brothers and the narrative flair of Patrick O’Brian.

The Pursuit of Victory: The Life and Achievement of Horatio Nelson by Roger Knight

The starting point of Roger Knight’s magnificent new biography is to explain how Nelson achieved such extraordinary success. Knight places him firmly in the context of the Royal Navy at the time. He analyses Nelson’s more obvious qualities, his leadership strengths and his coolness and certainty in battle, and also explores his strategic grasp, the condition of his ships, the skill of his seamen and his relationships with the officers around him – including those who could hardly be called friendly.

This biography takes a shrewd and sober look at Nelson’s status as a hero and demolishes many of the myths that were so carefully established by the early authors, and repeated by their modern successors.

While always giving Nelson his due, Knight never glosses over the character flaws of his heroic subject. Nelson is seen essentially as a "driven" personality, craving distinction in an age increasingly coloured by notions of patriotic heroism, traceable back to the romantic (and entirely unrealistic) depiction of the youthful General James Wolfe dying picturesquely at the moment of victory in 1759. Nor does Knight take Nelson's side in dealing with that discreditable phase in 1798-99, when he is influenced, much for the worse, by his burgeoning involvement with Lady Hamilton at Naples and Palermo. Knight accepts that this interlude has left an indelible stain on Nelson's naval and personal record. But he traces the largely destructive course of Nelson's passion for Emma with appropriate sensitivity.

Nelson was a shrewd political operator who charmed and impressed political leaders and whose advancement was helped by the relatively weak generation of admirals above him. He was a difficult subordinate, only happy when completely in command, and capable of great ruthlessness. Yes he was flawed, but Nelson's flaws, including his earlier petulance in dealing with higher naval authority - only brought fully under control towards the end of his career - pale before his remarkable strengths. His outstanding physical and moral courage and his inspired handling of officers and men are repeatedly and effectively illustrated.

1812: The Navy’s War by George C. Daughan

When war broke out between Britain and the United States in 1812, America’s prospects looked dismal. British naval aggression made it clear that the ocean would be the war’s primary battlefield - but America’s navy, only twenty ships strong, faced a practiced British fleet of more than a thousand men-of-war.

Still, through a combination of nautical deftness and sheer bravado, a handful of heroic captains and their stalwart crews managed to turn the tide of the war, besting the haughty skippers of the mighty Royal Navy and cementing America’s newly won independence.

In 1812: The Navy’s War, award-winning naval historian George C. Daughan draws on a wealth of archival research to tell the amazing story of this tiny, battle tested team of Americans and their improbable yet pivotal victories. Daughan thrillingly details the pitched naval battles that shaped the war, and shows how these clashes proved the navy’s vital role in preserving the nation’s interests and independence. This well written history is the first complete account in more than a century of how the U.S. Navy rescued the fledgling nation and secured America’s future. Daughan’s prose is first-rate, and his rousing accounts of battles at sea will certainly appeal to a popular audience. 

I was given this book as a tongue in cheek gift from an American friend who was an ex-US Marine officer with tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. He was obviously trying to rib me as good friends do. But I really did enjoy this book.

Among the most interesting insights is Daughan’s judgment on the effect of the American invasion attempts in Canada; all ultimately defeated. Demanded by enthusiastic War Hawks unencumbered by knowledge or experience who predicted that the Canadians would flock to U.S. banners, these incursions became the groundwork for a unified Iraq Canada - Ha!

What I liked was the fact that Daughan places the war in its crucial European context, explaining in detail how the course of the Napoleonic Wars shaped British and American decision making and emphasising the North American theatre’s secondary status to the European conflict. While they often verbally castigated Napoleon’s imperial ambitions, American leaders were in the uncomfortable position of needing Napoleon to keep winning while they fought Britain, and his defeat and (first) exile to Elba prompted an immediate scramble to negotiate a settlement. Despite its significance, few historians have bothered to systematically place the War of 1812 in the context of the Napoleonic Wars, and Daughan’s book does exactly that.

Empires of the Seas: The Siege of Malta, The Battle of Lepanto, and the Contest for the Centre of the World by Roger Crowley

In 1521, Suleiman the Magnificent, the great Muslim ruler of the Ottoman Empire, dispatched an invasion fleet to the Christian island of Rhodes. This would prove to be the opening shot in an epic clash between rival empires and faiths for control of the Mediterranean and the center of the world.

In Empires of the Sea, acclaimed historian Roger Crowley has written a thrilling account of this brutal decades-long battle between Christendom and Islam for the soul of Europe, a fast-paced tale of spiralling intensity that ranges from Istanbul to the Gates of Gibraltar.

Crowley conjures up a wild cast of pirates, crusaders, and religious warriors struggling for supremacy and survival in a tale of slavery and galley warfare, desperate bravery and utter brutality.

Empires of the Sea is a story of extraordinary colour and incident, and provides a crucial context for our own clash of civilisations.

One hundred Days: The Memoirs of the Falklands Battle Group Commander by Admiral Sandy Woodward RN

Written by the man who masterminded the British victory in the Falklands, this engrossing memoir chronicles events in the spring of 1982 following Argentina’s takeover of the South Atlantic islands. Admiral Sandy Woodward, a brilliant military tactician, presents a complete picture of the British side of the battle. From the defeat of the Argentine air forces to the sinking of the Belgrano and the daring amphibious landing at Carlos Water, his inside story offers a revealing account of the Royal Navy’s successes and failures.

At times reflective and personal, Woodward imparts his perceptions, fears, and reactions to seemingly disastrous events. He also reveals the steely logic he was famous for as he explains naval strategy and planning. His eyewitness accounts of the sinking of HMS Sheffield and the Battle of Bomb Alley are memorable.

Many in Whitehall and the armed forces considered Woodward the cleverest man in the navy. French newspapers called him “Nelson.” Margaret Thatcher said he was precisely the right man to fight the world’s first computer war. Without question, the admiral’s memoir makes a significant addition to the official record.

At the same time it provides readers with a vivid portrayal of the world of modern naval warfare, where equipment is of astonishing sophistication but the margins for human courage and error are as wide as in the days of Nelson.

3. Fiction

The Caine Mutiny by Herman Wouk

The majestic novel that inspired the classic Hollywood film The Caine Mutiny with Humphrey Bogart. Herman Wouk's boldly dramatic, brilliantly entertaining novel of life-and mutiny-on a US Navy warship in the Pacific theatre was immediately embraced, upon its original publication in 1951, as one of the first serious works of American fiction to grapple with the moral complexities and the human consequences of World War II.

The Sand Pebbles by Richard McKenna

It’s a fantastic novel that inspired a Steve McQueen film of the same name. Watch the movie if you haven’t, but read the book. It’s impossible to do a story of this sweep justice in two hours, even with the great McQueen starring.

Naval friends tell me The Sand Pebbles has been a fixture on the US Chief of Naval Operations’ Professional development reading list, and thus all mariners should be encouraged to read. And it’s easy to tell why. Most American seafarers will interact with the Far East in this age of the pivot, as indeed they have for decades.

Told through the eyes of a junior enlisted man, The Sand Pebbles recounts the deeds of the crew of the fictional U.S. Navy gunboat San Pablo during the turbulent 1920s, when various parties were vying for supremacy following the overthrow of China’s Qing Dynasty.

It’s a book about the mutual fascination, and sometimes repulsion, between Americans and Chinese; the tension between American missionaries and the sailors entrusted with protecting them; and China’s descent into chaos following the collapse of dynastic rule.

How do you separate fact from fiction or myth when writing a historical novel. Wisely, McKenna lets the reader to conclude there’s an element of myth to all accounts of history. Causality - what factors brought about historical events - is in the eye of the beholder. The best an author of historical fiction can do, then, is devote ample space to all contending myths and leave it up to readers to judge. Sailors, missionaries, and ordinary Chinese get their say in his pages, to illuminating effect. Authors report, the readers decide.

Ghost Fleet: A Novel of the Next World War by P.W. Singer and August Cole 

The United States, China, and Russia eye each other across a twenty-first century version of the Cold War, which suddenly heats up at sea, on land, in the air, in outer space, and in cyberspace. The fighting involves everything from stealthy robotic–drone strikes to old warships from the navy’s “ghost fleet.” Fighter pilots unleash a Pearl Harbor-style attack; American veterans become low-tech insurgents; teenage hackers battle in digital playgrounds; Silicon Valley billionaires mobilise for cyber-war; and a serial killer carries out her own vendetta. Ultimately, victory will depend on blending the lessons of the past with the weapons of the future.

The book’s title, Ghost Fleet, comes from an expression used in the U.S. Navy that refers to partially or fully decommissioned ships kept in reserve for potential use in future conflict. These ships, as one might imagine, are older and naturally less technologically sophisticated than their modern counterparts. Singer and Cole cleverly use this concept, retiring older ships and weaponry in favour of newer versions with higher technological integration, to illustrate a key motif in the book: while America’s newest generation of warfighting machinery and gear is capable of inflicting greater levels of punishment, it is also vulnerable to foreign threats in ways that its predecessors were not. The multi-billion dollar, next generation F-35 aircraft, for instance, is rendered powerless after it is revealed that Chinese microprocessor manufacturers had implanted malicious code into products intended for the jet.

I’m a huge sucker for intelligently written thrillers and I found Ghost Fleet to be a page-turning speculative thriller in the spirit of Tom Clancy’s The Hunt for Red October. The debut novel by two leading experts on the cutting edge of national security, it is unique in that every trend and technology featured in the novel - no matter how sci-fi it may seem - is real, or could be soon.

Master and Commander by Patrick O’Brian (Aubery-Maturin series)

This, the first of twenty in the splendid series of the famous Jack Aubrey novels, establishes the friendship between Captain Jack Aubrey, R.N., and Stephen Maturin, ship’s Irish-Catalan surgeon and intelligence agent, against a thrilling backdrop of the Napoleonic wars. Details of a life aboard a man-of-war in Nelson’s navy are faultlessly rendered: the conversational idiom of the officers in the ward room and the men on the lower deck, the food, the floggings, the mysteries of the wind and the rigging, and the roar of broadsides as the great ships close in battle.

I have the first editions of some of the series and I have treasured them ever since I read them as a teenager. I felt like stowing away on the first ship I could find in Plymouth. The Hollywood film version by Peter Weir with Russell Crowe as Jack Aubrey is a masterful swashbuckling film and perhaps a delightful way into the deeper riches of the other novels in the epic series.

Beat to Quarters by C.S. Forester (Horatio Hornblower series)

Horatio Hornblower remains for many the best known and most loved of these British naval heroes of Napoleonic Age. In ten books Forester recounts Hornblower's rise from midshipman to admiral, during the British navy's confrontation with Revolutionary and Napoleonic France. For readers, the books work as a window into history because of the outstanding details that appear in these books. Through this singular series, according to critics, C.S. Forrester - like Patrick O’Brian - has contributed his own uniqueness to the confluence of fact and fiction.

They are above all ‘ripping good yarns’, with fast-moving plots, stirring battle scenes, lively dialogue, and vivid characters, but they also offer a picture of the British navy during the period; and Hornblower himself is an original and memorable literary creation as fictionally charismatic as James Bond.

Young Hornblower is introspective, morose, self-doubting. He is crippled by the fear that he does not have the qualities to  command other men. He is harder on himself than anyone else would dare to be – and is, simply, one of the most complete creations of character in fiction. This is why many teenagers love Hornblower because they can see something of themselves in his adventures from from chronic self-doubt to soaring swashbuckling self-confidence. Hornblower is much more relatable than the brooding seasoned Jack Aubrey for instance.

I recommend reading the books in the order they were written rather than chronologically. In the first written novel, Beat to Quarters (also published as The Happy Return), we find Hornblower in command of a frigate in lonely Pacific waters off Spanish Central America. He has to deal with a mad revolutionary, fight single-ship duels with a larger vessel, and cope with Lady Barbara Wellesley (who provides a romantic interest to the series).

In A Ship of the Line Hornblower is sent into the Mediterranean, where he wreaks havoc on French coastal communications before plunging into a battle against the odds. Flying Colours is mostly set in France: in it Hornblower escapes captivity and returns to England a hero. In The Commodore he is sent with a squadron into the Baltic, where he has to cope with the complex politics of the region as well as helping with the siege of Riga. And in Lord Hornblower a mutiny leads to involvement with the fall of Napoleon — and brings him to prison and a death sentence during the Hundred Days. Forester then went back and described Hornblower's earlier career. Lieutenant Hornblower is perhaps my favourite of the Hornblower books.

Piece of cake by Derek Robinson

It’s an epic tome covering the opening twelve months of World War Two, from the phony war in France to the hasty retreat back across the Channel and then the valiant stand against the might of the Luftwaffe in what became known as the Battle of Britain.

The book follows the exploits of the fictional Hornet squadron and its members, a group of men who work hard and play harder. Though fiction, this immaculately researched novel based on an RAF Hurricane fighter squadron in 1940 highlights the ill-preparedness of Britain in the early stages of Word War Two.

Its British black humour is on full throttle with its nuanced observations of class politics and institutional ineptness. The manic misfits, heroes and bullies of Hornet Squadron discover that aerial combat is nothing like what they have been trained for. The writing sears the reader’s brain and produces some of the finest writing on the air war ever put to paper.

Be warned, though, this story isn’t about one specific character or ‘hero’. Indeed, just as you get to know a pilot, they are either chopped or killed; such is the nature of war in the air. Even though this is initially frustrating, you soon come to realise just how authentic Robinson’s storytelling is, and that this is exactly what it must have been like to be part of an RAF squadron on active service, never knowing who of your comrades would be alive from day to day. And, although the war proper for Hornet squadron doesn’t start until late in the book, when it does come the rendition of the dogfights in the air are so gripping that you’ll feel like you are actually there, sat next to the pilot in his cramped Hurricane cockpit, as Messerschmitt 109s scream by spitting death from all points of the compass.

All in all, this is a thoroughly entertaining (and educational) novel, and a must read for anyone interested in the RAF and how so few stood against so many. It has the dark humour of Heller’s Catch 22 but with a very distinctive British humour that can be lost on other foreigners. I recommend it as a honest and healthy antidote to anyone thinking of all pilots and the brave deeds they do in some deified light when in fact they are human and flawed as anyone else. Anyone who’s ever been a pilot will recognise some archetype in their own real life in this darkly comic British novel.

Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad

Lord Jim has it all. It's not just a novel of the sea but a work of moral philosophy.

Night Flight by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

In my humble opinion the greatest aviation fiction book ever written. It made the celebrated French aviator famous and Antoine de Saint-Exupery would go on to write the timeless classic The Little Prince.

Saint-Exupéry, though born into French nobility was always the odd one out as a child. Portly but jovial, he had bags of courage and curiosity to match his thirst for adventure and travel. He doggedly pursued his dream of becoming a pioneering pilot. In the 1930s he was an airline pilot who flew the north African and south Atlantic mail routes. During the long lonely hours in the cockpit he had enough time to accumulate experience and reflections which could be fit into Night Flight.

The novel itself narrates the terrifying story of Fabien, a pilot who conducted night mail planes, from Patagonia, Chile, and Paraguay to Argentina in the early days of commercial aviation when it was dangerous and pilots died often in horrendous accidents. The book romantically captures the danger and loneliness of these early commercial pilots, blazing routes in the days before radar, GPS and jet engines.

Night Flight is a good gateway into his other aviation themed books. Each of them are magical in capturing the austere feelings of seeing the world and its landscapes from above. Southern Mail, The Aviator, and Wind, Sand and Stars are fantastic reads.

Night Flight is inspiring for every pilot by sharing a unique magic of piloting an airplane.

These books changed my life as it inspired me to fly as a late teen. I still re-read Saint-Exupery’s writings sometimes as a way to tap into that youthful joy of discovering the wonders of flying a plane and when the impossible was only limited by your will and imagination. I cannot recommend his novels highly enough.

4. Classical

The Odyssey by Homer translated by Emily Wilson

Homer should the read at any age and for all seasons. I’ve chosen Emily Wilson’s recent translation because it’s good and not just because her publication was billed as the first woman to ever translate Homer. Wilson is an Oxford educated Classicist now a professor of Classics at Pennsylvania. Every discussion of Emily Wilson’s Odyssey is prefaced with the fact that hers is the first English translation of the poem by a woman, but it’s worth noting that Caroline Alexander’s Iliad (Ecco 2015) was also published as the first English translation by a woman to much less hoopla (to say nothing of Sarah Ruden’s Aeneid, Yale University Press 2009).

While a woman translating Homer’s epic is certainly a huge milestone, Wilson’s interpretation is a radical, fascinating achievement regardless of her gender. Disregard the marketing hype and the Wilson’s translation of Odysseus’ epic sea voyage home still stands tall for its fast paced narrative.

Compared with her predecessors’, Wilson’s Odyssey feels more readable, more alive: the diction, with some exceptions discussed below, is straightforward, and the lines are short. The effect is to turn the Odyssey into a quick-paced page turner, an experience I’d never had reading this epic poem in translation.

The War of the Peloponnesians and the Athenians by Thucydides translated by Jeremy Mynott

This is the classic treatise about what is essentially rowboats and spears of one of the most important and defining wars of Western civilisation. A long story of people killing one another, cynically justifying their cruelties in pursuit of power, making gross, stupid and fatal miscalculations, in a world devoid of justice. It's a long, drawn out tragedy without any redeeming or uplifting catharsis. If you are not already an extreme pessimist, you will lose all illusions about the inherent goodness of human beings and the possibility of influencing the course of events for the better after you read this book. You will be sadder but you will be wiser. Thucydides called his account of two decades of war between Athens and Sparta “a possession for all time,” and indeed it is the first and still most famous work in the Western historical tradition.

People look at me in a shocked way when I tell them that you can learn 90 percent of what you need to know about politics and war from Thucydides. Maritime strategy falls among the remaining 10 percent. If you want to read about the making of strategy, Clausewitz & Co. are your go-to works. If you want big thoughts about armed strife pitting a land against a sea power, Thucydides is your man. Considered essential reading for generals, admirals, statesmen, and liberally educated citizens for more than 2,000 years, The Peloponnesian War is a mine of military, naval, moral, political, and philosophical wisdom.

Finding the best and most accessible translation (and commentary) is key otherwise you risk putting off the novice reader (especially the young) from ever taking an interest in the Classical world e.g. I would never give the Thomas Hobbes translation to anyone who is easily bored or is impatient with old English. There are many good modern translations to choose from and here you have Strassler, Blanco, and Lattimore that are more used in America. Richard Crawley’s is the most popular but also the least accurate.

My own personal recommendation would be to go for Jeremy Mynott’s 2013 work which he titled The War of the Peloponnesians and the Athenians. Mynott was a former publishing head at Cambridge University Press and emeritus fellow of Wolfson College, Cambridge, as well as a leading expert on birds and natural history. Mynott’s aim is to re-introduce Thucydides to the reader in his “proper cultural and historical context”, and to strip back the “anachronistic concepts derived from later developments and theories”. Hence the name of the book: The War of the Peloponnesians and the Athenians, not, as it is usually called today, The Peloponnesian War.

But what is in a name? In this case, a great deal, since it contains Mynott’s mission statement in miniature. He has dropped the conventional name for the work, for which he correctly says there is no evidence from antiquity, in favour of a less one-sided title derived from Thucydides’s opening sentence. This is just one example of the accretions which Mynott’s edition aims to remove, so that the reader can come closer to being able to appreciate Thucydides’s work as it might have been received in classical Greece. In my humble opinion it is a minor miracle that Mynott has achieved in conveying in modern English the literary qualities of this most political of ancient historians.

The Peloponnesian War by Donald Kagan

I’m deliberating ignoring Victor David Hanson’s book on the Peloponnesian War (A War Like No Other) not because it’s not good (because it is in parts) but because I prefer Prof. Donald Kagan’s book.  Professor Kagan at Yale is one of the foremost scholars of Ancient Greek history. He has written a concise but thorough history of the Peloponnesian War for a general audience It's not the least bit dry for those with an interest in ancient history. The book’s an easy read. Kagan’s writing style is clear and straightforward.

Like any scholar worth his salt, Kagan is conversant with the scholarly consensus, with which he is for the most part in step, though he occasionally offers alternative scenarios. Much of the book is simply riveting. Like when the Spartan general Brasidas retakes Amphipolis, or the naval battle fought late in the war for control of the Hellespont. Woven throughout is the longer story of the Athenian turncoat, Alcibiades. Kagan’s analysis of the tactics and strategy of the conflict always seems on target. Interestingly, despite their reputations, the aristocratic Spartans usually come across as vacillating and indecisive while the democratic Athenians are aggressive and usually seize opportunity with successful results. Kagan refrains from drawing analogies to modern politics, although there’s certainly plenty of opportunity for it.

Professor Kagan preceded this one-volume history with a four-volume history of the war that took him around 20 years to write. That four volume series is a much more detailed and academic consideration of political motives and military strategy. But with this single volume, Kagan was able to produce a fast-moving tale, full of incident and colourful description easily readable for the general reader.  

Lords of the Sea by John R. Hale

This book spans the history of the Athenian navy, starting with its founder, Themistocles, and carrying the story through to the fall of Athens - its real fall at the hands of Alexander the Great, not the brief unpleasantness at Spartan hands - in 4th century B.C. Along the way Hale furnishes a wealth of details about naval warfare in classical antiquity. Lords of the Sea profiles Athens' seafaring culture fascinatingly, probing subjects on which Thucydides remains silent. An invaluable companion to Thucydides’ History of the Peloponnesian War, and a rollicking read to boot.

Meditations by Marcus Aurelius

Meditations is a series of personal writings by Marcus Aurelius, Roman Emperor 161–180 CE, setting forth his ideas on Stoic philosophy. Marcus Aurelius wrote the 12 books of the Meditations in Koine Greek as a source for his own guidance and self-improvement. It is possible that large portions of the work were written at Sirmium, where he spent much time planning military campaigns from 170 to 180. Some of it was written while he was positioned at Aquincum on campaign in Pannonia, because internal notes tell us that the second book was written when he was campaigning against the Quadi on the river Granova (modern-day Hron) and the third book was written at Carnuntum.

It is not clear that he ever intended the writings to be published, so the title Meditations is but one of several commonly assigned to the collection. These writings take the form of quotations varying in length from one sentence to long paragraphs.

When US Vice-Admiral. James Stockdale was shot down and became a prisoner of war in Vietnam, he attributed his survival to studying stoic philosophies, particularly Marcus Aurelius’ “Meditations.” Aurelius, the Roman emperor, wrote his simple rules for living by candlelight and they have been a source of strength for the thoughtful man of arms or the cultured citizen ever since. I also think teenagers would gain a lot from reading Meditations than endure reading angst-ridden nihilism of many tacky teenage books out there.

SPQR by Mary Beard

Anything by Cambridge Classics professor Mary Beard is worth reading. Everyone loves Mary Beard, fast becoming one of Britain’s national treasure. I’m not just saying all this because she was one of my teachers at Cambridge. I think SPQR is a wonderful book. Ancient Roman history is so very dense and intricate that it can be difficult to teach and learn about. Mary Beard makes it accessible- and she goes through it all, from the early days right up until the present day.

Ancient Rome was an imposing city even by modern standards, a sprawling imperial metropolis of more than a million inhabitants, a "mixture of luxury and filth, liberty and exploitation, civic pride and murderous civil war" that served as the seat of power for an empire that spanned from Spain to Syria. Yet how did all this emerge from what was once an insignificant village in central Italy? Mary Beard provides a sweeping revisionist history to get to grips with this thematic question.

‘SPQR’ is just four letters, but interwoven in those four letters are thousands of years and pages of Roman history. Cicero used to talk about the ’concordia ordinum.’ He said there was a harmony between all the orders in Rome. It’s like a pyramid hierarchy structure. At the top you have the ′senatus′ or the Senate—the aristocrats, the rich men who make decisions. Underneath that you have the ’equites’ who we don’t talk about as much , but they have their own spheres of power. They’ve got a bit of money and are a lower level. And underneath that you’ve got the ’populus’ or the people. SPQR is the harmony between the senatus and the populus and how they work together. That’s where Rome comes from: it’s not just about the Senate. The Senate can’t work without the people and vice versa. So ‘SPQR’ is basically a four-letter summation of the Roman constitution. It’s what it should be, though often isn’t. One of the reasons why - and she writes about this very well - Rome falls apart is because that relationship of harmony and hierarchy does fall apart under Caesar and Pompey in the 1st century BC.

Imperium by Robert Harris

This is one of my favourite novels, even if it weren’t classical, because like all Harris’ books it’s written like a smart thriller. I’m a huge Robert Harris fan. A lot of Robert Harris’ books are quite similar: they have a protagonist and you see the story - all the machinations - through his eyes. In Imperium we see the life of Cicero through the eyes of his slave, Tiro. We know Tiro was a real person, who recorded everything Cicero wrote.

The late Republic is one of my favourite periods of any period of history ever. You get all the figures: Cicero, Caesar, Pompey, Crassus, Octavian, Antony and Cato. Robert Harris paints compelling portraits of these people so nicely that even with Crassus, say, who comes up every so often, you get a sense of who he is. There are actually two more books in the trilogy: Lustrum and Dictator. Once you get to Dictator, you know who Julius Caesar really is, you know why he’s doing it.