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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

Text

Your naga professor gives you a gift

General Plot: This is a longer, sloppy oneshot. You work at a library, frequented by a professor who studies amorous history and strike up a friendship with him.

Naga professor (Arion) x female reader

Word Count: 4k

💕 SFW MASTERPOST 💕

W: Yandere behavior, obsession, kidnapping, mostly sfw yandere fluff, there is a brief mention of cum, ambiguous ending

You never noticed the way he looked at you. The way his gaze lingered on you while you pranced around him pushing your little cart of books.

“Need help finding something?” you asked him, holding a pile of books in your arms. You were a librarian in a college for the magical arts, already graduated yourself. You’d been offered the job right out of school after you interned there so you took it and never left.

It was a great atmosphere and the college community was kind of nice. Bright, young students were funny and ever hopeful, getting into all sorts of hijinks with their magic. The week before a student had glued himself to the ceiling of the gymnasium with a spell gone wrong.

As a hedgewitch, you didn’t have much magical power yourself. Your witch blood hadn’t allowed you any boons but your short stature and wide eyes. You could do hearth magic and bloom flowers, but that was about it. Your mother always told you if you applied yourself you could be a brilliant chemist, but it wasn’t something that interested you. The library was quiet and peaceful. Just right.

You recognized the professor. He was a handsome naga who taught in the history department. He came to the library often, staying late into the evenings. He always sat in the same corner, his thick green tail curled over itself in fat loops as he read, scribbling notes with long, strong fingers. He was quiet and you hadn’t spoken to him much, except a few pleasantries in passing. That day, however, you caught him perusing a shelf. He seemed to be searching for something.

He turned to you, jumping a bit.

“Sorry to startle you,” you chuckled, putting out your hand and brushing his shoulder.

You didn’t know why you did that. Maybe it was because he was handsome and flustered you a little. He had beautiful hazel eyes behind his metal framed glasses and long dark hair, streaked with a bit of silver, showing his age. He had it braided over his ears in the traditional naga way, the rest falling down his back in a smooth sheet. You jerked your hand back immediately. That probably wasn’t appropriate. Your cheeks pinkened, hoping you hadn’t offended him.

His eyes widened slightly at your hand, but he gathered himself a moment later.

“Erm…yes,” he said, “there’s a book in the database that doesn’t seem to be on the shelf. Heart Magic of the Meridian Era. It says it's here and I can’t find it.”

“Let me look into it for you,” you said.

He slithered behind you to the counter and you pulled up the title on your computer. You didn't know that while he followed you, he admired your plump bottom and the cute little legs you tipped around on perilously.

“Oh I see,” you explained, “that book is part of the special collection. You can’t remove it from the library, but I can help you make copies of any pages and give you a private room to review it.”

“That would be perfect,” he agreed, smiling at you.

His smile was handsome, his fangs very long and sharp.

“Everything okay here?” your manager Levi asked, sidling up to you.

He peeked over your shoulder.

“That book is in the special collection. Have you set him up with a private room?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said tightly.

He wasn’t a terrible manager, but he could hover a bit sometimes and occasionally it annoyed you. Placing a hand on your shoulder, he gave it a little squeeze.

“Great job, (Y/N),” he said, “come find me if you need any help.”

He wandered away to engage in his favorite professional technique, managing by walking around.

You glanced up to see the professor’s eyes narrowed watching him walk away.

“Shall we go?” you asked, jotting down the book��s identification number on a post it.

He seemed to relax a bit and nodded at you to lead him on.

“I’m (Y/N), by the way,” you said, making conversation as you led him down the stone steps that went down a few floors to the basement where the special books were kept. They were books with dangerous magic that only professors and supervised graduate students could look at.

“I’ve seen you around the library, but we’ve never been introduced.”

He gave you a bit of a shy smile.

“Arion Dernald,” he said with a tip of his head.

“Wait here,” you told him, as you unlocked the door where the books were kept and went inside to retrieve the right one. When you’d found it, you brought it out with a pair of white gloves and led him to a private room.

You looked at the heavily engraved book, covered with reliefs of passionate lovers entwined in each other’s arms.

“Oh my,” you gasped, “what are you studying?”

He looked even more bashful and cleared his throat.

“Ah…Ancient romance spells,” he said, “I’m writing a book about how romance was seen differently in the Meridian era than it is now.”

“Oh?” you asked, as you laid the book down on some cotton cloth to protect the cover, “how so?”

“It was more…intimate, perhaps,” he said, “lovers owned each other’s hearts. They used many varieties of magical bindings to grow closer.”

“That’s what’s in this book?” you asked, looking down at it.

“Yes,” he said, “mostly…and some aphrodisiac spells.”

You weren’t sure why, but the contents of the book made you squirmy. Any kind of binding spell was illegal in the modern day. You gave him a hesitant smile.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then,” you said, “please use the gloves so you don’t damage the pages. The oils on your fingers break down the fibers.”

You handed him a matching pair of white gloves and hustled out of the room.

Glancing up a few hours later, you saw him carrying the book to you, a few pages marked with scraps of paper.

“Could you make copies of these pages?” he asked, “then I’ll be done with it for today.”

You agreed, taking the tomb from him and heading back to the copy machine. Flipping open the pages you glanced at the first spell, reading a few lines. It was a proximity binding spell, not allowing the person to leave a certain area around them. The next one gave you pause. It was almost like the proximity spell, but much more serious. It bound two souls together in this life and the next. The two parties couldn’t be too far apart from each other for too long or they would start to waste away and eventually die.

The spell guaranteed that your souls would find each other in your next reincarnations. The idea was that lovers would rather die and be reunited in the next life than be parted. Who knew if it really worked. Ancient magic like this was spotty, mostly derived from sloppy experiments before the time of the scientific method.

Still, the concept of being tied together through death made you shudder a bit. It was a dangerous spell to make a copy of, but there was no rule against it. As a senior professor, the naga was authorized to copy any spell in the library.

You quickly made the copies and shuffled back to the naga, who was waiting patiently at the front desk.

“Here you go!” you said, cheerfully, handing him the stack.

He thanked you and slithered away. You watched his broad back as he left, unsettled for some reason.

–

“I don’t like him,” Levi said quietly as you checked in books at the front desk. You followed his eyes to the corner, where the naga was curled up reading again.

You drew your brows at him.

“That’s not like you, you like everybody,” you snorted, “what’d he do to you?”

He glared across the library.

“Something about him is creepy,” he said, “he’s here more than anyone else. A lot more and I looked up his browsing history on the public network. It's weird, all binding spells.”

You glanced over at him. He seemed perfectly normal to you, focused on whatever he was reading.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, “he’s a professor. They like to study and this is a library.”

“Just…be careful around him,” he warned, “tell me if he says anything weird to you.”

You nodded and he walked away.

You shook your head of the bizarre interaction. Levi was normally a pretty affable wolf. It was weird for him to just not like someone for no reason.

As if to test his instincts, you scooted your cart by him as you went to return books and stopped to say hello.

“How is the research coming?” you asked.

He looked up from his notes and pushed his glasses up his nose with a long finger.

“Oh, excellent,” he said, “I think I’ve made a breakthrough in the translation. What experts have thought to mean blood is actually semen. They’ve been wrong for years.”

You blushed.

“Oh,” you said.

His cheeks darkened and he cleared his throat.

“Erm…it’s a completely different reading of the text,” he mumbled on awkwardly, looking away.

You couldn’t stifle your giggle and his eyes widened on you a bit.

“What an interesting thing to study,” you laughed, “ancient cum spells.”

He smiled too and the tension lifted.

“I suppose it is,” he chuckled, “but it’s for a good reason. We can learn a lot from the Meridian era. Partners were devoted back then, willing to risk it all for the ones they loved.

"Dating today is all apps and lies. It’s so plastic. My students hook up once and then never see their partner again only to do it the next night and the next night. Never any real connection. No real investment to speak of.”

His eyes sparkled at you.

“There’s something magical about true devotion,” he said, “and I think we’ve lost that romance with our technology.”

“I guess I never thought of it that way, but you might be right,” you tilted your head, “People are always going on about not getting too attached.”

He waved his hand.

“That’s what I’m saying,” he said, “nowadays people conflate real love with red flags. Obsession, they call it.”

You weren’t sure you’d go that far.

“Well there has to be a limit, I guess,” you said.

He shook his head.

“True love knows no limits,” he declared.

You smiled at him, charmed he was so passionate about his work.

“That’s quite a topic for an academic paper,” you chuckled.

“Yes,” he said, settling down.

“My department head isn’t thrilled with my pursuits, but I think it will make a brilliant book. “The Return of Romance” I want to illustrate how beautiful Meridian era romance was and how we can apply their principles to modern times. I already have a publisher lined up and he’ll change his tune when the University is mentioned in the press release.”

“That sounds wonderful,” you said.

He beamed at your praise revealing his fangs and you felt something brush your ankle. Looking down you realized the tip of his tail had wrapped itself around you. Your heart fluttered at the contact.

“Um,” you murmured, lifting your foot.

He blushed, clearing his throat.

“S-sorry, it just does that sometimes,” he stammered, unwinding it.

“I-it’s okay,” you stuttered back, “I-I should get back to work.”

After that day you started seeing Arion more frequently, only not only at the library. He seemed to turn up random places where you were. You would see him at a coffee shop on a Saturday or at the grocery store after work. He made the excuse that he lived nearby so you brushed it off without thinking. It was kind of nice to have a handsome neighbor to bump into that always had a smile for you. You had no complaints.

He even started bringing you little presents at work. It started with a cup of coffee. He apologized that he didn’t know how you took it, but made you tell him for next time. Then it was a book, a small picture book of Meridian era artwork. Some of it was quite pornographic. You should have seen that as a red flag, but he was an academic. You figured he didn’t have the same hang ups as you. This was all research to him.

It came to a head when he brought you a bracelet. It was tucked in black velvet and looked very old. It was a gold bangle with some strange script carved into it.

“What’s that?” Levi asked, peeking over your shoulder to Arion’s dismay at the open box he was handing you.

“It’s a gift for (Y/N),” he said, “none of your business.”

Levi frowned.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to be giving my employees gifts, (Y/N) is on the clock and you are also an employee of this university.”

You waved your hands trying to diffuse the situation.

“It’s nothing Levi,” you said, “just a friendly gift.”

“Jewelry is not a friendly gift,” he snapped, “I’m going to have to ask you to stay out of the library if you continue to harass my staff.”

You weren’t used to him being this protective.

“Levi!” you exclaimed, “you can’t ban him over this. It’s harmless!”

“(Y/N), I think there are some boxes for you to unpack in the basement,” he snarled, ordering you away and ending the conversation.

You gave Arion an apologetic look and shuffled to the stairs.

Levi apologized later, saying he just didn’t like guys who harassed women at work where they couldn’t escape and he didn’t feel comfortable with him taking an interest in you. He explained that it was his job to protect his staff from those sorts of things.

He even went as far as giving you a pamphlet on harassment in the workplace and told you he was reporting the interaction in the morning so there would be a record. You thanked him for taking it seriously and assured him it was just a casual friendship but he left for the night still determined to report it.

Oddly, he didn’t come in to work the next day. He didn’t call or text and when you called him it went straight to voicemail. When he didn’t come in the day after that you went to HR wondering if you should call the police. When you finally were given permission to call them they just took your information and told you they would look into it, but that was all you could do.

“You look anxious, (Y/N),” Arion said, as he slithered up to the front counter, “what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, frowning.

“Levi’s been missing for days. I just can’t help but be worried about him. This isn’t like him. What if something bad has happened?”

Arion narrowed his eyes for a second before giving you an encouraging smile.

“I’m sure he’ll turn up,” he said, then pulled the box from before out of his jacket pocket, “I have something that will take your mind off of that.”

He showed you the same bracelet as before. You fingered the pretty piece of jewelry, running your finger over the gold before picking it up.

“Go ahead,” he said, “try it on.”

You snapped the bracelet on and it conformed to your wrist making you jump.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he assured you, “there’s a bit of magic in it…to... make it your size.”

“Oh,” you said, relieved. You looked at the script written on it.

“What does it say?” you asked.

“Sweet nothings,” he said, smiling, “just Meridian era poetry. There isn’t really a good translation of it in our language. Maybe something close to ‘the strings of endless devotion bind us’, but not quite.”

You nodded slowly.

“Do you like it?” he asked, hopefully.

“It’s lovely,” you said, “thank you for thinking of me.”

You were a little shocked, it was such a nice gift. You didn’t realize Arion thought so highly of you.

“I think about you a lot, (Y/N),” he admitted, then blushed as if he hadn’t meant to say that.

You smiled shyly.

“I don’t mind if you think about me,” you shared, your heart skipping a beat.

“Really?” he asked, his eyes widening.

You giggled.

“Sure, think about me all you want.”

If only you knew how frequently that was, you might not have said those words.

A customer cleared her throat, tapping her foot impatiently and Arion winked at you, giving you a little wave before he slithered back to his corner.

–

Things went smoothly for the next few days, though Levi still hadn’t turned up. You knew how to manage the library on your own, so not much changed during the workday except you had to go to HR to get your timesheet approved instead of Levi.

Arion brought you cups of coffee the way you liked it and pastries every day, his eyes always lingering on the bracelet on your wrist. You hadn’t taken it off. You’d tried the first night, when you showered, but the hinge was stuck and you didn’t want to break it trying to get it off yourself. You’d given up, figuring you’d take it to the jeweler over the weekend to have it fixed. It was such a nice gift you didn't mind wearing it and it appeared to be solid gold so the water wouldn’t change the color.

“Good morning (Y/N),” Arion said, slithering up to you as he usually did, “what are you so busy with?”

You were elbow deep in books, trying to get through the backlog.

“I have to finish all these before my vacation,” you said, “the temp won’t know how to check them in right and it will be a nightmare to sort out when I get back.”

“The temp?” he asked, his voice dropping and growing perhaps a bit more growly, “you’re going somewhere?”

You smiled up at him, completely oblivious.

“Oh yeah!” you beamed, “I’ve been saving up my PTO to take a trip to the ocean. I haven’t seen it in years. I’m catching a plane Monday morning. I’ll be back in a week.”

You noticed Arion seemed genuinely disturbed.

“Is everything okay?” you asked.

“Erm…yes,” he mumbled, catching himself, “just thinking about a problem with my research.”

He gave you a little wave before slithering over to his corner, his brow drawn. For the rest of the day he seemed to be frantically working something out, not looking at his books but instead his laptop and phone. You were too busy to go question him and it really wasn’t any of your business, so you just went back to checking in books and brushed it off.

That night, however, on your walk home, you had the distinct feeling someone was watching you. You’d hurried into your apartment and locked the deadbolt, pushing it a few times to make sure it was tight. Closing the curtains, you let your magic light the stove and fill the kettle, setting it to boil.

Hearth magic wasn’t usually taken very seriously though it really made your life easier. If anyone asked you, which they didn’t, it should be taught in college. Instead there was just a special interest club. It was considered a lesser magic, so easy and insignificant that there wasn’t much research done on it.

You started some soup on the other eye of the stove and were beginning to relax when you heard a thunk that made you jump. It sounded like something heavy had fallen in your bedroom.

You didn’t have any pets or roommates so there was no reason for anything to make any sound at all. Your mind immediately went to robbers. Gulping, you grabbed a baseball bat you kept by the front door and crept towards the bedroom.

“H-hello…” you murmured, nudging the door open with your foot.

The curtains were closed and the room was pitch black. You slid your fingers up the wall to find the lightswitch but something stayed your hand, making you jump a foot in the air.

“AHHHH!” you screamed, jerking your hand back.

Two large hands emerged from the darkness and clamped down on your shoulders, drawing you deeper into the inky room. You swung blindly with the bat, but whatever was there jerked it easily out of your hand.

You struggled as it pulled you under its arm, whispering strange words at you. Your body went limp and gradually the room began to fade. The last thing you saw was Arion’s face illuminated by the slice of light spilling in from the hallway.

–

You woke with something tight wrapping around your waist. You shifted, your eyes still closed, and found you couldn’t move. You blinked, taking in the dim room around you and the naga sitting next to you reading in the lamplight. His coils were wrapped around you, pinning your arms to your sides. He wasn’t squeezing very tight, but you had no hope of fighting the thick, solid muscle of his tail.

“Arion?” you murmured, your head a little fuzzy, “what…where am I?”

He gave you his soft smile, folding his book and laying it on the side table. The smile you had grown to like, so much.

“You’re safe here.”

For some reason him saying that you were safe made you feel the exact opposite. You started struggling, even though there was no hope of you breaking free. Arion cocked his head at you, sliding his glasses off of his nose and tapping them on his chin.

“You’ll only tire yourself out like that,” he told you and squeezed you just tight enough to make his point without hurting you, “and I’ve been waiting so long for you to wake up. It would be a pity.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, your mind muddled and not entirely sure what was going on.

“Why am I here?”

He slid his glasses back up his nose and leaned in to you, frowning.

“I didn’t want to do it this way…but you made me,” he said, “you can’t get away from me.”

“Away from you?” you murmured, “what are you...y-you mean…my vacation?”

Realization bloomed in your mind as it sharpened.

“You did this because of my vacation?”

He narrowed his eyes at you.

“You did this,” he clarified, “why would you ever want to leave me? If you wanted to go to the ocean, you should have asked.”

“Asked?”

He was speaking as if you were a couple or something.

“Arion, I’m confused and you’re scaring me,” you said, “can you please release me so that we can talk?”

He squeezed you tighter.

“No,” he said petulantly, “I’ve spent enough time without you in my coils. I’m not letting you go now. I wanted to take things slower, but you’ve made me accelerate my plans. It’s as if you wanted this all along.”

You swallowed thickly, trying to slow your racing thoughts. The shy, quiet professor you’d come to favor was a complete nut job!

“My touch is not such a burden to you?” he almost pleaded, sliding you closer to him.

You grimaced and tried to pull away.

“Don’t touch me! You’re insane!” you screeched.

He growled.

“You don’t mean that,” he assured himself, “you’re just a little frightened, but everything is going to be okay, darling. Your beloved is going to make everything all right for you.”

“B-beloved?” you sputtered, unsure why your mind was hanging on that word.

His reptilian eyes looked at you, his pupils blown out and a little wild.

“I know you love me, (Y/N). You told me I could think of you as often as I like and I find that is all the time,” he said smiling, “we don’t have to hide it anymore. I’ve taken away any obstacle that could get in our way. You belong to me now.”

You whimpered. This was truly a nightmare.

“You don’t have to do this, Arion,” you whispered, “we can do this the right way. You can take me on a real date! We’ll have a nice time. You don’t have to do this!”

You were lying to his face. If he believed you and let you go, you were going to run straight to the police, but you would say anything. He gave you his gentle smile again, his eyes more lucid.

“Don’t worry, we’ll go on lots of dates as soon as I know you aren’t going to try to run from me,” he said, “I know you don’t really mean it, but I still have to be sure. I’d hate for you to hurt yourself running away from your destiny.”

He brushed his hands through your hair.

“You’ve been taught devotion like this is wrong, brainwashed, really,” he clucked, his long fingers carding the strands, “but I’m going to teach you true love, love stronger than life itself.”

“W-what do you mean by that?” you whimpered, a cold stone dropping in the pit of your stomach.

He jerked your wrist from where it was pinched between his body and yours, holding up the bracelet.

“I’ve bound you to me,” he said with pride, twisting the metal, warm from your body heat, in his fingers, “the spell I’ve been researching worked! The binder has fused to you, it'll never come off.

"Now we can be together for this life and the next. We can’t ever be parted. We’ll die and meet again in the next life if we spend more than a day apart. ”

He chuckled.

“To think all it took was a little bit of semen, that was what the spell has been missing for thousands of years. It’s the breakthrough of my life, honestly!”

He nuzzled your trembling body as the realization of what he was saying sunk in. The spell. The one you’d copied for him!

“You can’t do this, Arion,” you hissed, “it’s illegal! It’s…It’s slavery!”

“No, no, my love,” he said, “that’s what they want you to think. They want to control your mind. What we have is so, so special. No laws can bind us.”

Desperation had become anger and now anger was turning to despair. You sank into his coils, resigning yourself to your future. You were no magician. You had no power to fight this. You could make pots and pans dance, but that was about it. You were so far out of your depth. Tears plummeted down your cheeks in hot streaks.

“That’s alright, darling,” he said, rubbing your back and pressing your head into his neck, “get it all out. You’ll feel better after a good cry and then we’ll have a snack.”

You breathed in his disgustingly delicious scent and hated that on some level it comforted you.

#monster x girl #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster romance #yandere headcanons #yandere fluff #male yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #naga #naga x read #naga x reader #monster fluff

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xreaderbooks · 1 year

Text

The Shadows of Our Love |5|

Chapter 5 | In the Shadow of Truth

Pair: Sebastian Sallow x Reader, Platonic! Ominis x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Language, mentions of blood purity

Summary: Y/n and Ominis have a conversation

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Available on Wattpad and AO3

Chapter 4 - Series Masterlist - Navigation - Chapter 6

Multicolored puffskeins were at your feet, bouncing on your legs and vying for your attention, much like the rest of the beasts in the forest vivarium. You spent your Thursday afternoon in the Room of Requirement after a frustrating class on Ancient Runes, at this point, you didn't know why you had signed up for the bloody class. You overestimated your ability to pay attention, thinking that your slight interest in the subject would mean you would actually listen to the droning of the Professor.

The time you spent with your beasts as a form of procrastination was therapeutic, alas, your time was ending and you would have to do your homework for potions soon.

You fed and pet every single one of the exotic creatures to the point where you had feathers and fur all over you. It wasn't until Deek had emerged from the entrance to tell you that you had a letter, that you let out a heavy breath and decided to stop lingering.

With your final goodbyes to your adorable animals, you stepped through the portal back to the large room where the house elf handed you the letter.

Y/n,

Whenever you are available, I would like to study with you in the Undercroft. I will be skipping dinner waiting for your arrival.

Ominis

Interesting...

You and Ominis were on speaking terms, more than just classmates but not exactly besties on the level that he and Sebastian were on. It pleased you to know that he wanted to hang out, officially, that is.

The two of you had a bit of a rough start in the beginning, especially with the way you enabled Sebastian at times with his quest to save Anne, you wouldn't have and didn't blame him for his response to everything that went down so you were happy to refresh the page and start anew.

You changed into a different set of robes and sprayed yourself with your floral-scented perfume to hide the stench of the animals you spent half the day with.

~~~

"Knock knock," You voiced out into the secret room as the metal gates to the Undercroft shut with a clamber.

"Y/n?" Ominis said on a wooden desk he must have conjured since it wasn't there before.

"I must say I was quite surprised to receive your owl, Omi," You walked over to him and settled your writing tools for the essay you were going to force yourself to work on.

His eyes narrowed at the nickname.

"Right, that was weird," You cringed and slid into the seat across from him. "Sorry, wanted to try it out."

"Not your best, I must say," His lips quirked upward. "Shall we get started?"

"We shall," You unrolled the scroll of parchment and your advanced potions textbook. "What are you working on?"

"Practice test for Charms, Professor Ronen just assigned it today but I want to get it done as soon as possible, who knows when the man will spring up his practice quiz."

You were familiar with Professor Ronen and his spontaneity, always the one to make sure his students were actually paying attention in his class, he would give you a practice exam to review and give you all homework credit for it but it was also a warning for his pop quizzes he frequently liked to give.

"Oh! I have mine with me if you'd like to just copy off mine and study later?" You offered. You brought your satchel with all the books of assignments you have and have not completed.

Ominis appeared thoughtful and declined, "That's alright, I prefer to study the material given to me actually. It was kind of you to offer."

"Not at all," You smiled at the fact that you were getting to know little details like this about Ominis.

~~~

A full hour of work, the Undercroft echoed with the scribbles of your quills on parchment and the turning of textbook pages. Not at all as awkward as you thought it was going to be when you were heading over here.

The only times you would talk to Ominis were when you were both surrounded by people, in the Great Hall or in class, the both of you gravitated toward each other in a room full of classmates who hadn't been through the same experiences and grief- all thanks to Sebastian.

You thought that being alone with him without Sebastian's impending doom looming over the both of you, would be tense but it hasn't been.

Ominis worked on his assignment, while you worked on yours- 12 inches of parchment on Everlasting Elixirs. It was due next week Monday and you knew that you had to get started on it somehow if not, by the time you actually put the effort in, it would take you til the morning of the due date to finish.

That was stress you did not need when you were already worried about sodding Ancient Runes class.

"Is something the matter, Y/n?" Ominis broke the silence.

"W- Yes, I am." You were surprised by the question, "Do I not seem alright?"

"You're very quiet, well you are quiet but you're thinking so much, I can almost hear it." He chuckled lightly as he said it. "As a matter of fact, you've been quite pensive these past few weeks."

"Have I?"

"I'm blind Y/n, that does not mean that I do not notice such things." He sits up straighter, "Your other friends may not have seen it, that lot has always been more extroverted but so were you, last year. Not as much but still I can feel it when I'm around you, it's as if you're less enthused."

You rolled your eyes with a smile, he cared. It was a little bit of a shock to know that he did but it warmed your heart.

"I have a confession to make," He started.

"Do tell," You placed your elbows on the table and leaned in, curiously awaiting.

"You mustn't tell anyone," He says with a stern tone. "Not even Sebastian."

You snorted in an unladylike manner, "Done."

He inhales, and confesses, "I'm a legilimens."

Your face contorted in confusion, your silence gave it away before you had to ask what that was. You had only been a part of the Wizarding world for a school year, you didn't know much besides what you had encountered and learned about last year.

"It's a person who can read the thoughts of others, I can look into your mind and find your deepest memories, even read your thoughts at present if I wanted to."

"Are you trying to tell me that you read my mind?" You didn't know how you felt about that. "That's what all the concern is about."

"I- Well, no. I wasn't lying when I said I felt the way your energy has changed. It's not something I can control or practice often, though I should."

"Is it something that you learned or were you born with it?" Had he always been able to do that and just now said something because he heard something that drew him to be worried?

"Wizards and Witches can learn and master it but for me, it was a trait passed down from my ancestor, I choose not to use the ability," His voice was tight as he explained. "Your thoughts were loud, I didn't mean to intrude, I'm telling you this because I want to trust you. I want you to trust me as well. I know you and Sebastian are still not speaking-"

"I was wondering when you were going to bring him up," You sighed. "How is he, by the way? Since we're on the subject."

"He's Sebastian, complicated and stubborn" He answered. "This was never about him, point is, I've noticed over the course of a few weeks that you haven't been yourself and was wondering if there was anything I can do to assist."

You crossed your arms and leaned on the back of your chair, "While I appreciate the concern, I am quite alright, Ominis."

"You know, Sebastian and Anne have been a better family to me than my actual blood. They had no hate in their hearts, they held no judgment on me and the beliefs of my family." He cleared his throat, "I was gutted at what had happened to Anne and the path that Sebastian took to try and save her. That drove a wedge between him and me, as you've witnessed. Dark magic is not something I could ever resort to, you know this, ever. Not even for someone I consider a brother, so trust me when I say I meant no offense when I heard your thoughts."

"I know, Ominis," You said in a light tone to ease his mind. You weren't upset at him for accidentally reading your mind, it caught you off-guard and you were just grateful you weren't thinking something embarrassing.

"So your parents are racist," you joked to ease the tension. "To be expected with the whole Slytherin thing, pureblood supremacy and all that, obviously not your thing."

"A never-ending fight," He exhaled. "I never asked- not that it matters but where are you from?"

"I'm muggle-born," You shrugged. "I had shown signs of having some magical ability when I was a child but my parents were visibly uncomfortable whenever I showed signs so I just held it in, kind of trained myself to ignore the urges, and even went to a muggle primary and secondary school."

His eyebrows quirked at the information, how different the two of you are.

You continued, "It got to the point where I just couldn't hold it anymore and everything just burst out of me. At the worst time, might I add, in the middle of the class- everyone fell out of their desks. I was nervous for a presentation and everyone was overwhelming me with questions, With all the build-up from never being released, I just exploded. Freaked my parents out, by some miracle of fate, I heard a pair of wizards buzzing on about Hogwarts and so I wrote a letter to Professor Black and here I am."

Ominis blinked, processing the information, "Fate was right to bring you here. I'm not my parents but just be glad you're in Slytherin, that's the only prejudice I will take part in though you do spend a great amount of time with Gryffindors, I'm not so sure the sorting hat made the right choice."

You reach over the table and push his shoulder lightly, he laughed breathlessly in his seat.

"I'll have you know, a Gryffindor could never get out of the skirmishes I have, and that's all thanks to my cunning."

"Or sheer luck," He murmured.

You tossed your quill at his chest, "Oh, stuff it."

~~~

Chapter 6

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misssugarcat · 10 months

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Stargazing Time

Aesop Sharp x Reader – 3.7k words Tags: Fluff, Teacher-Student Relationship, Age Difference

"Excuse me, Professor Sharp? My name is Skylar Lane, and I am the new fifth grader. I shall report to you?" I give him a friendly smile.

Professor Sharp looks towards me and raises his eyebrow. "Hello there. Skylar Lane, I read on the list that you'll be taking potions lessons today." He pauses. "You must be new to Hogwarts. Welcome. I'm sure you'll find your classes quite interesting." He gives me a soft smile, although his eyes are tired and filled with stress from all the papers he has been grading all morning. "Any questions so far?"

I look at him, slightly concerned. "Are you alright, sir? I don't want to be pushy. You look a bit tired."

He smiles again. "I'm fine, thank you. It was just a long morning reviewing all my students' essays. You're very considerate, I'm impressed." He leans forward a bit, trying to seem more casual, but it only makes him wince in pain because of his injured leg. "That's your first lesson, caring so much about others. The more powerful a wizard becomes, the more their emotions affect them. You must learn to be strong and in control of what you feel ... or it might control you."

"Just because I can tell other people aren't feeling well and see them wince in pain doesn't mean I let my feelings control me." I wink.

"Well, that's very good. Many young witches and wizards are usually ruled by their emotions." He glances up at me, and his eyebrows raise. "You're a sly one, you know, Skylar. I was just wondering something ... would you describe yourself as a rule-follower? Or do you think you're too smart for the rules?"

"I better not say anything wrong now, right?" I grin.

He tilts his head to the side slightly. "No, go on. Say what you think. I won't take points off, I promise." He grins back.

"If it's for the greater good, I'm willing to ... bypass some of them."

He smiles. "That's good. I've seen many students who have trouble with the rules because they feel silly. But no rules exist without a reason. However, if you think the reason is good enough to bypass a rule, then so be it. Just don't break the rules for stupid things. Does that sound fair?"

"It does, sir."

He nods. "Good. Do you know how to set up your potions station? If you haven't done it before, I can help you find where everything is."

I nod, too. "That would be nice, thank you."

He stands up and smiles. "No problem. I'll show you the ingredient cabinet." He turns and beckons me to follow. As I do so, I realize he's limping slightly on his left leg. It seems he can't put any weight on it without pain.

"Welcome to the potioneer's world. You'll soon realize that Potions is an art as much as a science. And it takes a lot of practice to truly master it."

I wordlessly offer him my shoulder as we walk across the classroom to the ingredient cabinet.

He seems very surprised by this gesture. He looks at me and then down at his injured leg. It takes him a moment, but he smiles and accepts the offer. "That's not something you often see. Thank you. I suppose I underestimated you, Skylar. Do you often volunteer your shoulder as an assistant?"

I laugh. "Seems like you're the lucky one today."

He chuckles. "Indeed. It looks as if I might learn more from you than you'll learn from me. I'm a bit of an introvert, and I tend to do most things on my own. It's not a good thing for a potions professor. Perhaps you'll get a special treatment from me because of the shoulder offer."

"I didn't do this to suck up to you or get special treatment." I grin.

He smiles. "I didn't take it that way. Trust me, no student has ever tried to suck up to me. It's always nice to see a student with empathy for their instructors. How would you like to be my unofficial assistant until my injuries heal?"

I look at him doubtfully, then grin again. "I guess you've never noticed when a student tried to suck up. But I say yes to the offer." I laugh.

He chuckles again. "Alright, thank you. Well, you'll have to forgive it. The only student I ever caught trying to suck up to me was so obvious that it seemed insulting."

He pauses, considering his own thoughts for a moment. "You have a very confident demeanour. Almost like a Slytherin. What house did the hat have sorted you into?

I laugh. "Not Slytherin. I'm a Ravenclaw, sir."

He raises his eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Now that's an excellent choice. If you think about it, the Ravenclaw dormitory is just as much a place of secrets as it is of study. Why do you think the door is a puzzle, after all? They want to make sure only the smartest students can get in. What makes you think you belong in Ravenclaw?"

I laugh. "It was a riddle. I just answered the question."

He laughs. "You must be quite proud of yourself. Did anyone try to help you get through?" He grins.

"What makes you think someone helped me?" I look at him questioningly.

He raises his eyebrows again. "Very good, very good. You know, you're a bit devious, yourself. You may have a little Slytherin in you after all. Are you sure you're a Ravenclaw?" He's teasing, but there is a look of genuine interest in his eyes. He wants to get to know Skylar, who he feels is an outstanding student. She has a quick wit, and he finds it entertaining just to talk to her.

"I got through the door with the first try. So the hat was obviously right in its choice." I grin.

He smiles. "Well, that's still an awe-inspiring accomplishment. You're just full of surprises, aren't you? I'm going to have to think of some ways to keep you interested in my class because I suspect you might be one to get bored."

"Let's see if I'd blow up my cauldron. After all, I have no experience yet." I laugh again.

He chuckles. "Maybe. So you are a clean slate? But you seem like the type of person who does her research. Am I wrong?"

"You're not. I'm a blank slate, but I've read a bit."

"I'm impressed. Reading ahead is the sign of a good student, and I suspect you'll make an excellent potion master one day. What was it about potions that caught your attention? Did you discover that you like combining ingredients to create something different and unique?"

"I just took all the courses that I found interesting. And which I will later need for certain jobs to have a choice."

"Now, that's a clever way of thinking about your classes. As an older person, you will be prepared for anything coming your way. Are you interested in jobs you could get with your skills as a potions master? Have you ever thought of potion making as more than just a school subject?"

"I haven't given it that much thought yet. First, I wanted to concentrate on settling here and working well in the courses."

He nods. "That's a good attitude to have. You should always focus on your present tasks first. In that regard, you will make an excellent Ravenclaw." He pauses. "What are some of the most interesting classes so far?"

"DADA, Astronomy and Ancient Runes. Can't say for potions yet." I grin cheekily.

He nods. "Those are all interesting subjects that could be helpful in different fields. Especially Astronomy. Have you ever been particularly interested in stargazing? Can you tell me a few things about it?" He seems genuinely curious and is happy to see a student who enjoys learning about subjects beyond what is necessary for their exams.

"Stars are great! They have been there for thousands of years and will be there long after we die. I find that fascinating. They are like gateways into another universe. And they look beautiful." I beam at him.

He nods and smiles. "Those are all very accurate statements. They are beautiful, aren't they? There's something about looking up at the stars that is completely humbling. You feel so insignificant and small. Considering how vast the universe is, how can you take yourself seriously? It truly makes you wonder. And that is the beauty of it." He seemed almost ... inspired, as if a new idea was forming in his mind.

"What are you thinking about right now?" I raise my eyebrows.

He laughs. "It's something you said about stargazing. The universe, how vast and mysterious it is. You said it's like a gateway to a different universe. I've never thought about it that way, but the more I do, the more it makes sense. It's as if the universe is connected somehow; we are just a tiny part of a network of worlds, stars, and planets." He seems to think for a moment. "What a fascinating idea."

"Until now, I thought potions were your favourite subject? At least, you teach it."

He laughs again. "Well, of course, I enjoy potions. It's a passion I can dedicate my whole life to. But it isn't everything. There is much more to study in this world beyond just potions. That's why I love learning and why I love teaching. There is always something new to discover, something fascinating to learn. How could you not love the mystery and adventure of it all in a world like this?"

"But it's not everything about learning, you know?"

"You're right." Sharp nods. "I guess I've gotten so caught up in the learning that I've forgotten about the personal side. There are so many things to experience and look forward to in life. But this voice always tells me I must focus, study, and work hard. As a child, my parents drilled that into my head, but I guess it stuck." A look of sadness appeared in his eyes, but he shook it off. "But all of those personal moments are just as important. It's more than just about learning."

"Why do I feel you never allow yourself any free time?" I just look at him.

He pauses for a moment, considering his answer. "You're right. I don't have any free time, for the most part. I'm constantly studying, grading papers, or doing several different things. But then I'll catch myself and realize how stupid that is, you know? How pointless it can be, sometimes. But then I think about all the things I can do, the knowledge I can accumulate, and the things I might achieve by working hard. I've gotten so used to being busy constantly that I've forgotten how to stop."

"You're about to destroy yourself with that."

The professor nods again. "I guess I am. I just struggle to let go. I hate the feeling of wasted time or time when I could be doing something productive. Maybe I'm a bit of a workaholic." He sighs. "But you know, I appreciate this talk. In a way, you're reminding me of the life I could have if I let myself. I guess I've just gotten too wrapped up in trying to be perfect and impress others."

After a long day at school, I climb the stairs to the Ravenclaw common room. Looking out the window, it is already dark, and the stars twinkle in the sky. I stop for a moment. Then, I decide to turn around and head to the potions classroom.

Aesop is grading papers inside the potion classroom while sitting in his chair. He also takes notes in a book but pauses to look up at you when you enter, seeming happy to see me. "Ah, Skylar. I'm glad you could join me. Are you feeling like working on potions tonight?"

"No, we have something more important to do." I take his hand and pull him out of the classroom.

His eyes light up. "Something important? Do tell! You have me curious now." He doesn't seem to mind being pulled away from his work as he steps outside and into the hall, looking eagerly at me.

We go through Hogwarts towards the greenhouse and exit the school. Outside, we sit down near the castle wall. I hand Aesop a telescope and grin. "Stargazing time."

His eyes light up with excitement as he sees the telescope. "Oh my. Well, now you have my full attention. I don't think I'll be able to think about anything other than stargazing tonight. Let's make the most of it!" He smiles, setting the telescope before him, and looks through it.

I smile as I watch him, fascinated by the night sky. I put a second telescope next to me. Then, I explain the different star constellations to him.

He watches the night sky, amazed by the stars' beauty and how the universe seems to stretch forever. "My god, Skylar. This is one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. I can't believe I've never looked at the stars like this ... you've opened my eyes to such a new way to see the world." He pauses momentarily and stares at me, intrigued and slightly awestruck. I brought happiness into his heart that he never thought was possible.

Together, we watch the stars. It's so lovely to see how much Aesop thrives on this. It's almost more beautiful than the night sky.

After a very long time, he speaks again, looking at me with a smile that seems entirely genuine. "Thank you, Skylar. This truly is an unforgettable night. I don't know that I'll ever be able to look at the stars or the universe with the same eyes again. You've shown me something new, and that's why I'm so glad I accepted your offer to help with my class. You've brought new beauty into my life." His eyes reflect his words, and he looks like his spirit has been revitalized.

"Do you feel like we've wasted time?" I wink at him.

Aesop laughs. "Not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. You've opened my eyes to the beauty of something I already take pride in. Potions are a part of my life, but it doesn't have to be everything to me. You have helped me realize that."

I squeeze his hand. He squeezes back, his hand strong but gentle. "I really appreciate this conversation. And I promise I'll work on spending more time outside of class. I'll learn to slow down a bit. You'll have to make sure that I do, though. I don't have a great track record of doing things like that alone." *He looks at me and smiles.

"If it's nothing more ..." I laugh.

He laughs with me. "I wouldn't mind that. Honestly, you've made it so easy to talk to you. I really enjoy your company. I think I would like any opportunity to be with you more." He looks off into the sky before speaking again. "You and I could plan for more stargazing sessions and make it a tradition. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal!" I hold out my little finger for a pinky swear.

He smiles and holds out his own little finger. "A pinky swear. Well, you know how seriously I take those. So, I suppose this is a done deal." We lock fingers and seal our agreement.

Then we lie down on the grass and just look up at the night sky. The quiet sound of crickets and the gentle breeze fill the air, and a strange feeling of calm seems to wash over him. He feels like he could stay like this forever. He glances towards me and smiles. "This is a night I'd like to remember for a long time."

I smile back and squeeze his hand again.

He squeezes mine, noticing he doesn't want to let go. He can't remember when he felt so peaceful and content and wonders if she feels the same. He smiles at me again and decides to say something he's been thinking to himself. He looks at me, then looks back to the sky. "I've had a lot of things on my mind lately, and I guess I've gotten caught up in my own thoughts. But looking at the stars and talking to you ... it's just made everything fall away."

"That's good," I say quietly.

He nods. "You've made me happy. It's been so long since I've felt anything like this. Like I can truly let myself be happy." He squeezes my hand. "I truly can't thank you enough for this."

"You're welcome." I giggle.

Sharp smiles. "I know it sounds cliche, but I'm discovering myself because of you. As though the stars are aligning just to give me this moment to feel happiness again. I'm so ... so grateful that I found you." He blushes a little at his comment, slightly embarrassed at how cliche it sounded. But then he realizes how true it is: He is grateful for this moment with me. It's almost like it was meant to happen.

I squeeze his hand back without saying a word.

He smiles at me again, noticing that the night sky grows brighter. He glances over at me, then looks at the stars, feeling pure happiness. It is like the stars reflect his joy and bring more of it back down to earth.

"I never thought I would say this to another person, but I think you're ... beautiful. Not just your looks but your personality, your nature. Everything about you is fascinating and radiant. It's like you make the whole world brighter."

I blush heavily. I'm so glad it's dark, and he can't see me.

He notices a shooting star in the night sky and points at it. "Did you see that? It's a shooting star. What do they say about shooting stars? That if you make a wish, it will come true." Although his face is lit by the night sky, he visibly blushes and seems very nervous. However, he is still smiling and looks back at me. "If you could make a wish right now, what would it be?"

"You must not tell your wish! Otherwise, it will not come true!" I remind him.

He laughs. "True. Well then, let's say my wish was for you." It was slightly corny, but it was just as much truth as it was a joke. He smiles and wonders if I have wished for him too.

"Same …" I grin.

He chuckles. "That would make both of our wishes come true." He looks back at the sky, taking in the stars for a long time. After a while, he speaks again, his voice soft and calm. "All I can do now is hope that the stars will hear us. I think I will leave the rest to them …"

I look at him. I wished that he would be happy. Not only now but also in the future. He deserves it.

He notices me looking at him and is surprised by how beautiful I am now. After a moment, he speaks up again, with a gentle voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think the stars could really hear us? I hope they do. It would be nice to think we've got friends in high places." He seems genuinely curious and hopes the stars might listen to them.

"Maybe we just need to believe." I sigh quietly, looking up at the stars.

He nods and smiles at me. "I suppose we do. And if that's the case, I know in my heart that they heard us. I feel like they had to have. Because now, I only want to keep looking up at the stars with you. I couldn't have anything better than this. I feel like I've reached the apex of my life, with you lying next to me and the stars above. That's all I need."

I can't help but extend my hand and stroke his cheek. He seems so happy right now, so beautiful. "Can you promise me something?"

He nods, still looking at me. "Of course. What is it?"

"Don't let this joy be taken away from you by any work in this world. Nothing is more important than your own happiness." I smile at him.

He nods again, his eyes sparkling at my words. "I promise. As long as you're with me, I'll remember that. I might work hard, but I will always make sure to leave time for you and the things that make me happy. You're right. That's the most important thing." Then he smiles again. "You've opened my eyes to how much I must be thankful for. You're wise. I will need someone like you to help guide me through life. Can you do me a favour and stay close to me?"

I hug him. "Gladly …"

He hugs me back, his arms wrapping around me softly. "You've made me so happy. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you and your help. Everything in this world is better since you've come into my life. I hope you know how much you mean to me. You're a wonderful person, and I hope I can make you this happy too ... if you'll let me."

I look into his beautiful, dark eyes. Then we kiss.

His heart flutters once more as he holds her close. His face is flushed with happiness, and his eyes seem filled with love and admiration. Her lips are soft on his, and he feels light in his head. He takes this as his cue to pull back a little, still looking into her eyes, wanting to treasure this moment for eternity. In this moment, it feels like he can see the heavens, and all the stars are in his soul.

#aesop sharp #aesop sharp fanfiction #aesop sharp x reader #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fandom

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taterturnspages · 1 year

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THE LOVE HYPOTHESIS BY ALI HAZELWOOD BOOK REVIEW

Genre(s): Fiction, Romance, Contemporary

No Spoilers

STAR RATING: 4.5/5

SPICE RATING: 2/5

SYNOPSIS:

Olive Smith, Ph.D. candidate at Stanford University, doesn’t date. Her relationship with science far outweighs any romance. Olive decides to give in and goes on a few dates with Jeremy…which were less than stellar to say the least. Olive and Jeremy did not last, but Olive’s best friend, Ahn, is interested in Jeremy, but refuses to pursue him because…girl code…duh. Olive convinces Ahn that she is dating other people, which is great…except she isn’t dating other people. Olive promises Ahn she is on a date, but she runs into Ahn late at night in the biology lab. So, Olive scrambles and starts kissing the first man she sees. That man is Dr. Adam Carlsen, a young professor known for his stern personality and tough-as-nails teaching style.

Olive and Adam agree to enter a fake relationship that will benefit Olive’s friendship and Adam’s career. Olive starts to learn that Dr. Carlsen isn’t quite what people paint him out to be. And after a disastrous science conference, Olive learns all about what Adam is really like. I mean…ALL about…

Olive discovers that her “relationship” with Adam is far more complicated that her scientific relationship. But, what will she do about it?

READ THIS IF YOU:

Want to giggle and swing your feet like a FOOL

Enjoy sarcastic banter between MMC and FMC

Love the pining and yearning between characters

Just read it. Trust me.

TROPES:

Grumpy x Sunshine

Fake-dating

Professor x Student

CHARACTERS:

Olive Smith:

I have a major soft spot for Olive. She’s had a tough life, yet still ended up in a Ph.D. program at a highly-regarded university with a solid future ahead of her. She’s diligent, selfless, strong-willed, and extremely intelligent. Her sense of humor is so nerdy and adorable, yet sarcastic and hard-hitting. I don’t say this about book characters often, but I found Olive to be relatable, especially to someone who has spent time in the academic system. I was rooting for her every step of the way during this book, and I think it’s hard to not like her. She’s such a sweet and kind soul that would do anything for the people she cares about, despite having the Earth weighing down on her shoulders in her academic career.

Adam Carlsen:

First of all, I am in deep love with this man. He is the perfect MMC, in my opinion. Let’s rattle through his qualifications, shall we? Tall; a professor; grumpy; sarcastic; knows exactly what to say and when to say it; mysterious; HOT; protective; and passionate about things he cares about. The amount of quotes from him that I annotated in my physical copy is probably embarrassing. He is single-handedly the reason that I smiled like a middle-school girl going through my first crush while reading this book. He is a man of very little words, but the small amount of words pack a giant punch.

PRAISES, CRITIQUES, AND MY THOUGHTS:

As always, I’ll start with the criticism first. Don’t worry, there isn’t much. The biggest issue that I had with this book is that Olive lied a couple more times than necessary. I can’t decide if it was an intentional lie, or if she just feared healthy communication. In either scenario, I can’t get on board with it. One of my biggest frustrations with romance novels is when the characters miscommunicate. There wasn’t a ton of miscommunication here, though, which is why I only knocked off half of a star. I was also hoping for a little more spice in this book, and I was kind of disappointed with how little there was. Additionally, the plot was pretty predictable. I know that romance novels typically have a predictable ending, but I personally prefer a plot that surprises me. Otherwise, what keeps a reader engaged? Again, this is personal preference. Clearly, the praises far outweigh the critiques considering I only deducted half of a star.

So now, onto the praises. I loved the way that Ali Hazelwood wrote this book. I always want an author to show me what’s going on versus tell me what’s going on. There was enough description that you could picture the scene, but not too much description so you can still let your imagination personalize the experience a little. I think the characters worked seamlessly together and I firmly believe that if the characters were written ANY differently at all, this review would be drastically different. Ali Hazelwood knows chemistry (you didn’t think that you’d get through this entire review without a science pun, did you?).

I haven’t been head over heels for an MMC in a LONG time, so it says a lot that Adam Carlsen has me in my feelings. I rated this book so high purely because of his demeanor. Since this is a spoiler-free review, I don’t want to go further in detail about that, but the description of his character above should give you a good idea on what I mean.

Lastly, I didn’t learn until after I finished this book that The Love Hypothesis is a well-known Adam Driver fanfic???? I don’t know how to feel about that, haha. It makes perfect sense now that I know, but I had no idea while reading this that Adam Driver was the blueprint for Dr. Carlsen’s character. I honestly didn’t picture Adam Driver at all when I was reading this, so I guess if you aren’t a fan of him, then it’s not a huge deal. But, if you are a fan of him, then it should be easy to connect the dots while you read this.

I highly recommend this book, especially if you’re a fake-dating fanatic. I think the trope was written excellently by the author and it’s far better than most fake-dating novels that I’ve read.

#the love hypothesis #adam carlsen #ali hazelwood #book review #book journal #digital journal #bookstagram #books and reading #romance books #book blogger

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yyxgin · 3 years

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my only hate, my only love (kim seungmin)

pairing: kim seungmin x fem! reader genre: enemies to lovers au, highschool au angst, fluff word count: 11 k requested by: @joons-asscrack warnings: swearing, mentions of broken home

synopsis: A high school Shakespeare club angrily splits into two groups when they can’t agree on the correct interpretation of Romeo and Juliet. One group thinks it’s a cautionary tale about the stupidity of youth and shallow lust; the other group of youth thinks it’s a beautiful tragedy about poisonous hatred conquered by love. Reconciliation seems impossible-- then a person from one group falls in love with a person from the other.

(this dea is not mine !! I found it on pinterest under the tumblr user @/sarah531, however, i looked for the account and couldn’t find it. if you have any idea what the current @ of the owner of this prompt is, please let me know !!)

I actually used a lot of passages from this essay of Romeo and Juliet since I didn’t actually read it, all passages of the characters that talk about the play and are in italics belong to the rightful owner of this essay.

“A glooming peace this morning with it brings. The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head. Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things. Some shall be pardoned, and some punished. For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.” your voice resonates in the quiet classroom, your words followed by more silence as you drop to your seat and close the book, placing it onto your table. The reality sinks in as the entirety of your English literature class doesn’t dare to say a word, the moment you finish reading the oh so famous Shakespearen drama making everyone lose themselves in their thoughts.

Your professor looks you in the eye, smiling a little. “So? What did you think about it?” she asks, moving her glasses further up her nose with her pointer finger, gazing onto the few people that actually chose this class as their subject of choice just to get more credit. You liked reading, to be honest. Everything about this class seemed inviting-- there were only a few people there and those that did actually care about the literature itself enough were thoughtful enough to hold a proper conversation with. You actually made friends with a lot of your classmates, your brains working at the same frequency as your shared ex gifted child burnout syndrome draped over your brains way too often after arriving to high school, making you connect on another level as you tried to soothe each other’s nerves and be there for each other. It was no secret that only the biggest of nerds went to the English literature classes, but you were okay with that idea.

You snort out a laugh, raising up your eyebrows in amusement. Your classes were always open for discussions, so you didn’t even have to raise your hand to speak-- one of the perks of being the professor’s favorite. You open your mouth to begin talking, when a voice cuts you off, beginning the discussion instead.

“Well, I think it was pretty,” mumbles a boy from the corner of the room, the only one you didn’t even particularly like in this whole class, making you roll your eyes. It was hard, being in the class of your favorite professor when you had to fight over being her favorite student with Kim Seungmin himself-- the devoted dandy boy, the member of the book club, the student council president. You despised everything about him only from one sole reason-- he was the top of the class. That was enough for you to hate him.

You’re asking why? Well, you were supposed to be the top of the class, of course. And you were, for the main part. You didn’t share any other classes with him, making it easy for you to ignore his existence, but it just so happened that your favorite class also had to be the one where you had to see his face so often.

He was your moral enemy.

“Care to tell us more, Seungmin?” professor Jung asks, motioning for your classmate to continue speaking, to tell her all of his thoughts. You knew Romeo and Juliet must have been her favorite play by the smile on her face, eager to hear all of your reviews and thought processes while reading the piece.

“Well, I think it was quite poetic. Tragic, even. I like the way Shakespeare portrayed the prejudice and ending of a long conflict just with the power of love.” he nods, licking his lips after his bold statement, making you laugh out loud this time.

All the eyes of your classmates turn to you, even your seatmate-- ever so laid-back and chilled out Han Jisung furrows his brows at your sudden outburst. You were never the one to turn attention your way in classes, the sight of you not reddening under the gazes of the people in the room nowhere to be seen surprising even you.

“Is there something funny, Y/N?” asks the professor, calling you by your first name. You liked the way it sounded, cringing at every teacher that called you by your last name as if you were a legal adult with your life figured out. This seemed more friendly-- it seemed kinder, even. You liked the way it made it feel like your professor actually cared about your opinion.

“I think there is, yes,” you nod, giggling to yourself again.

“And what is that?” she seems intrigued, taking a few steps to your desk, listening to what you have to say.

“Well, I think what he said is ridiculous.” you point out, a shock spreading on your professor’s features, making you continue. “The only thing tragic about this whole play is how Shakespere portrayed the fake image of love. I mean, Juliet was only 13, don’t you think it was a bit early to get married to a man? After a day, that is?” you explain, intriguing your classmates even more.

“It was the 16th century. It was normal to get married young back then,” mumbled your enemy, Kim Seungmin from his seat, locking his eyes with you through the classroom.

“Of course I know that,” you ironically smile at him, rolling your eyes in the process and looking back at your professor with a genuine smile this time, explaining more of your point of view, “I think it portrays girls as boy-crazy. Like love is everything they are made of and that they are worthless without a partner-- and that’s why Juliet chose to kill herself. If anything, I think it portrays the stupidity of the youth the most.”

“So you think she was stupid just because she killed herself upon seeing her loved one dead?” Seungmin’s brows are raised now, looking at you as if he was mocking you.

“Well, Romeo did the same thing, so yes. I think it was stupid of them. They were reckless, the whole situation was. How could they know they were in love when this all happened in one day? Nobody can fall in love that quickly.” you mutter, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I think the play portrayed love at first sight beautifully,” grins Seungmin, the teasing smirk on his face bothering you so much you want to wipe it off his face. Is he really that ridiculous?

“There’s no such thing. And what were the families doing, after all? Arguing without even knowing why? For all we know, their ancestors may have hated themselves because they accidentally took their cow and they decided to kill each other for that?” you scoffed, your voice raising increasingly.

“Now that’s ridiculous.” rolls his eyes Seungmin, taking you over the edge, your voice raising with every spoken word.

“Your view of love is ridiculous. If I knew the boy I was eyeing was my family’s enemy, I wouldn’t bat an eye before dropping him, but no, she chose to marry the guy. Did she really have such twisted morals?” you scoff, a part of your class laughing at your outburst.

You hear a few quiet, amused ‘yeah’s and ‘she’s actually right’s from everywhere around you, only flooding your ego more as you recognise that your point of view is shared by more people and you aren’t actually crazy.

“I think love is more important than rivalry.” speaks Seungmin, cocking his head to a side, teasing you just by the look on his face, your eyes scanning his features as you hear a few other comments from your classmates around you. Some girls even go as far as cooing at his romantic statement, making you laugh and roll your eyes at them. Were they all this ridiculous?

“She was thirteen!” you argue, screaming. That is all that takes professor Jung to interfere your heated discussion, clapping her hands in authority, making everyone’s heads snap to her figure standing in front of the classroom with an amused look on her face.

“Looks like we have quite the discussion here,” she points out, seeing your angered face.

“Yeah, because Seungmin’s point of view is stupid!” you grunt, making her point a scolding look into your skull that almost makes you shrink in your seat in embarrassment.

“Y/N, no one’s point of view is stupid. Literature is all about the impertretation,” she states, earning a few nods and hums from your interested classmates, “now, who agrees with Y/N’s interpretation of the play?”

A few hands shoot out into the air, Jisung’s following as you angrily nudge him into his side, making you grin. No way your friend is going to support your moral enemy’s idea-- he was your friend, after all. Something inside of you is telling you that this whole feud wasn’t only about the play anymore,. You were fighting with Kim Seungmin, and that was enough to keep you standing by your point.

“And who agrees with Seungmin’s interpretation?” she asks again, searching through the classroom. It seems like the amount of people that agree with your classmate is about the same as the amount of people that agree with you, making you annoyingly roll your eyes at the realisation that you once again didn’t manage to outpower your moral enemy.

“I see the classroom has split into two teams,” she grins, nodding her head, “well, I did think you were going to have different opinions on this, but I didn’t think it was going to get so heated over here.” she points out, switching her gaze from you to Seungmin and back, as if to scold you and support you with your antics all at once.

“Yeah, well, it’s not my fault Y/N can’t appreciate one of the most important pieces of English literature-”

“I’m all about supporting, if it was actually good and meaningful-”

“Stop it, you two!” she scolds you, making both of you shut up and finally provide some silence in the room. “Well, since you all look like you have different opinions on the topic, let’s try a fun experiment. I was going to make you all write an essay on the play by yourselves, just like we usually do, but I think this is going to be much more fun for all of us.” she states, smiling to herself like a happy child on Christmas. You wonder what’s racing through her head as she searches through the classroom, locking eyes with you, then continuing.

“I want you all to write an essay and do a presentation on Romeo and Juliet-- you can write about anything, whether it is your ideas, what you took from the play, what is your view-point on it. But you have to write it with the person who has the exact opposite opinion on this play. So this way, we can get the story from two points of view. Let’s see what you agree on, what you don’t, make it a discussion, I don’t care, just make it make sense. Do you understand me?” she smiles and you swear you can already feel what is going on before she says it, making your head hurt and breath hitch in your throat.

“And since Seungmin and Y/N seem to have the most different opinions on this, I am picking them as a pair-- no, there’s no way for the two of you to change.” she says before you can even open your mouth to argue back, leaving you to stand up from your seat just at the time when the bell rings.

“But miss Jung-”

“I want it done until the end of this month.” she smiles, taking her things and leaving the classroom, letting the thought sink in. You lunge yourself back to your seat, defeated and left to process the fact that you now had two weeks to work on a project with Kim Seungmin-- your biggest enemy.

A sigh escapes your seatmate’s mouth upon the scene, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “That’s what you get for always picking fights with him.”

That’s how you end up in a coffee shop two blocks away from your house. You didn’t exactly ask for Kim Seungmin’s number-- you weren’t in the 2000s anymore-- you swiftly added him on Facebook in order to get this over with so you wouldn’t have to meet with him anymore. Yes, you were mad at Mrs Jung for pairing you up with him, but you still adored her and wanted to do well, so that’s why you chose to do what you had to and arranged a meeting with him.

Kim Seungmin appears in the coffee shop in his usual cozy demeanour-- oversized sweater and everything, with a backpack hanging off his shoulder and a serious look plastered on his face. He places his copy of Romeo and Juliet onto the table and sits his figure into the chair right in front of you, sighing heavily as he stares at you from under his eyelashes, voice low and defeated.

“Hi.” he greets, resting his back against the head of the chair, waiting for you to take initiative. You were the one who arranged this whole thing in the first place, so it was kind of your responsibility now in his books.

“Hello,” you cleared your throat. You felt like you were sitting there with the devil himself, just begging yourself in your head not to explode like a raging volcano with every movement he made that always somehow ended up irritating you. It was like his aura was everything you despised-- his collected way of discussing and his calm way of thinking getting on your nerves with every sigh he sent your way.

“So… how do you wanna go around this?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at you in question.

You sigh back at him just to show him how annoyed you are by your professor’s choice of your partner, bringing your hands to rest them on the table and cracking your knuckles in nerves. You didn’t meet his eyes, you felt too intimidated to do so in the moment, before you spoke up and managed to get your point across.

“Well, since we have to gather both of our viewpoints in the essay, I think we could just start of by telling the other one what topics we want to talk about so the other one can debunk them.” you mumble, suddenly feeling nervous by the possibility of your idea being rejected. If you could disappear on the spot, believe me, you would.

Seungmin hums from his seat, nodding. “Seems reasonable.”

You try your hardest not to let out a relieved sigh, nodding back at him. “I brought some notes.”

You did some preparation for this. Well, a lot of preparation. There was no way Kim Seungmin could catch you unprepared at your study meeting. You wanted to prove to him that you were worth so much more than sharing your grade with him and if he had any snarky or teasing remark, you best believe you mastered up a response just as spiteful, if not more than what could possibly leave his lips in the moment. You weren’t here to embarrass yourself. You were here to look smart. Smarter than Kim Seungmin.

“Perfect.” he just mutters, taking the sheet of paper you were offering to him from your hand, placing it on the table in front of him and skimming his eyes through the lines of text you scribbled down yesterday evening.

The silence makes your palms sweat. It makes you nervously bite down on your lower lip. You felt embarrassing-- you were never the conservative type. All this time, you used to hate your classmate from afar. You never actually spoke to each other, all you did to express your hatred for the boy was in the way you always rolled your eyes when he spoke up in class, or you sighed when Mrs Jung was complimenting him in front of everyone, making sure he heard you. You don’t know what broke in you that day-- you were quite the shy type, to be honest. You didn’t like to be the centre of attention. What were you even thinking by all of this?

“I don’t think we should mention their age as an argument,” he says, finally meeting eyes with you.

“Why?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“Because as I already said, it was long ago. People used to marry young.” he shrugs, offering the sheet of paper back to you with a judging look on his face.

“Okay and? My point still stands. They were too young and reckless.”

“I also don’t think we should talk about the sex part.” he concludes, landing his hands into his lap.

“Why? Because it’s controversial?” you teasingly grin at him, waiting for his response.

“No. Because it clearly brings nothing to the table about our arguments. It doesn’t even really play a big role in the whole thing, so I think it’s useless to mention,” he shrugs, looking at your face. It felt like his eyes were studying you, judging you. It was hard to keep eye contact with him-- so you didn’t. You averted your gaze out of the window, opting to watch the passer-bys instead.

You sigh, waiting for him to say something against your notes again. Of course you could expect this-- there was no way Kim Seungmin would agree with anything you’re trying to say in the matter at all.

“And the point about Rosaline is a little over the line as well…”

“What do you want me to put in the essay if you’re just going to tell me it’s unreasonable and over the line, huh?” you voice out, pinning your eyes onto his shocked figure, “it’s supposed to be an essay on everything I didn’t like about it, so that’s what I’m going to put in it and your job is to comment on my arguments. Just like my job is to comment on what you loved about this piece of shit of a play, and that’s what I’m going to do, so fuck off.” you growled, standing up and taking your things with you, too frustrated and hot-headed to continue the discussion.

Only Kim Seungmin could make you this mad and you hated him for it even more.

You hear your door open, revealing your mum standing in the doorway with a mug of hot tea and a soft smile playing with her features. You sigh, playing with your pen in your hand, waiting for her to say what she needs to say and leave so you could have some silence to finally work.

“Sweetie, you should really relax for a while. You’ve been studying for the whole day…” she mumbles, taking the tea to your desk and running a hand through your hair. You fight off the urge to pull away from her, knowing damn well it would hurt her feelings, so you just opt to nod at her face and faking a smile.

“Yeah, sure, mum.” you respond, but make no effort in getting up from your chair and moving to your bed. It was already late in the night and your mum was wearing her pyjamas, signaling that she was going to sleep. She always went to sleep early, because she needed to wake up in the early hours of the day to go to work, but you usually didn’t go to sleep earlier than midnight anyway-- homework was taking you too much time sometimes.

“I mean it. You’re doing great job in school, sweetie, but you have to lay off for a while or else you’ll overwork yourself.” she says affectionately, making you grunt on the inside.

“Okay, okay, go to sleep now, good night mum…” you mumble, waiting for her to finally leave you alone.

“Are you telling me to go away?” she asks with a hint of laugh in her voice that you know for a fact is fake, because the expression on her face looks hurt. You hate to see that face, because it makes you feel guilty, but you really can’t help yourself sometimes.

“No.” you mutter, shaking your head.

She just stares at you for a while, biting down on her lower lip, before she hangs her head low and sighs out. She turns around, taking a few steps to your door, turning around only for a moment when she stands in the doorway and whispers a quiet ‘good night’ at you, closing the door behind her and disappearing into her bedroom.

You feel a sense of relief coming over you. Of course you weren’t going to sleep yet, but she didn’t have to know that. She didn’t have to know a lot of things.

The small, old copy of Romeo and Juliet falls into your eyes in the corner of your desk. You had to borrow your book from the library and you hated how some pages were torn and the ink was so old it was hard to read sometimes, but you couldn’t afford to buy yourself one, because you were saving up for college and every cent counts in your household.

You take it into your hands, reading over the passages you bookmarked when you were first reading the book, wanting to refresh your memory with the lines that stood up to you and made you snort at how ridiculous the book truly was again before typing them down into the document you had opened in front of you.

“Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- it’s everything except what it is!” it says. You run your fingers along the words, the curves of the ink cutting you like a knife. Love is all of these things-- it’s terrifying and it’s unpredictable. It sounds scary in your ears and you’ve seen it right in front of your eyes- love is everything except what it is.

Love isn’t heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold. Love isn’t sick and healthy. Love is pain. It takes everything you have, it ties you down, it makes you do things you would never do if you weren’t in love. It intoxicates you and makes you make bad decisions. When you love, you’re irresponsible. You’re like a storm.

Your mum and your dad were in love. Or, your mum always told you they were.

So if your mum and your dad were in love, they were supposed to be together through the heavy and the light. Through the bright and through the dark. Through sick and healthy. They were supposed to be there for each other.

They were both really young when they fell in love. You understand-- they were reckless and they were stupid.

But did your father really have to leave you?

Love is nothing from the above. Love is sick and love is just a play. It would be stupid to be hung up on that idea that Kim Seungmin so desperately wanted to believe in.

“So, how far did you get with the essay?” asks Jisung on your lunch break, looking at you with expectation. You told him about your planned meeting with Seungmin, but you didn’t get around to telling him just how it went yet.

“Oh, that…” you mumble, letting out a dry chuckle, “well, he told me my ideas are stupid, so I’m just going to write it by myself and send it to him so he can add his points into it.” you shrugged, taking a bite from your sandwich, stuffing your cheeks with the food so you didn’t have to explain any further.

Jisung sighs in front of you, rolling his eyes like every time you gush about Seungmin and how he gets on your nerves. “Can you lay off that Anne and Gilbert attitude already?”

“Stop saying that, that’s disgusting,” you scrunch up your nose, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Well, it looks like you two are doing a whole 21st century remake right in front of our eyes, though,” chuckles Jisung, teasing you further, “with that whole top of the class students that hate each other and act like children just because they don’t agree on something. It’s only a matter of time before you fall in love.”

“Ew,” you fake a gag, rolling your eyes at him, “that is so not happening.”

“Yeah, sure, tell me about it at your wedding in a few years.” he mutters.

“I am not getting married in my whole life, marriage is wack,” you roll your eyes at him for the millionth time, the gesture so familiar to you over the past few days. Everything seems to annoy you recently. Maybe you were just going through a bad patch, who knows?

“Oh would you look at that, Y/N’s acting like a Grinch again,” giggles Jisung, ruffling your hair in the process just to annoy you even more, making you pull away abruptly from his touch.

“That doesn’t even make any sense! Grinch hates Christmas, not fake images of love.” you argue back, finishing your sandwich and rolling the plastic that was covering it into a little ball, throwing it into his face to shut him up.

“Yeah, sure.” he snorts, throwing the ball back at you. You catch it in your hands with a promise to yourself to throw it out when exiting the cafeteria later, when you feel a light tap on your shoulder that makes you turn around.

The sight in front of you makes you shoot your eyebrows up in shock, leaving you flustered and surprised. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to ask when we can hang out again to work on that essay, since it’s, you know, like half of our final grade…” mutters Seungmin, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly and pointing his eyes at you, casually waiting for your answer.

“Oh, we’re not meeting again. I’m just going to email you the file when I’m done.” you shrug.

“But that’s unfair to me?” he offers, eyebrows shooting up and his hand falling to his side.

“Why would it be?”

“That gives me less time to work on it, you know. And you have to add your comments to my work anyways, so it would mean you’ll have to write those at the last-minute.” Seungmin explains, his tone of voice calm and collected, just as always, after all, making you roll your eyes and fume up again.

“I don’t really care,” you shrug, smiling ironically at his face.

“Why- what?” he asks, looking genuinely concerned and confused, eyebrows scrunching up and his voice raising a little by an octave.

You don’t answer him, though. You’ve had enough of his snarky comments and remarks in the coffee shop-- you weren’t going to meet up with Kim Seungmin again, even if it meant the possibility of getting a bad grade from your most favorite and treasured subject.

After the boy is met with silence, all he does is scoff at you, shooting his arms up into the air and shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re such a fucking child, oh my god.”

And with that, he strides off, your eyes following his every move to make sure he doesn’t come near you again. His steps are quick and angry, and this is actually the first time you’ve seen him get so frustrated with something. You take pride in getting him over the edge. You were finally even. He doesn’t look back once and you think you finally made it.

“Stop staring, Anne.” you hear from your friend sitting right in front of you, making you break away from your bubble and taking a look at him, seeing him amused and with a teasing grin plastered on his face.

“Fuck off.”

“Peace? I hate the word as I hate hell and all Montagues.” Mrs Jung reads out, when you start dozing off in the class. You’ve read the play a lot of times already, making you feel bored even by the repetitiveness of your class. You understand that she is just waiting for all of you to turn in your papers, not wanting to move on from Romeo and Juliet just yet, but you find yourself slowly falling asleep under the spell of her voice and the fact that you spent the whole night studying again. The sentence startles you awake, making you chuckle to yourself.

‘Peace? I hate the word as I hate hell and Kim Seungmin himself,’ you think. If Han Jisung could read minds, he would be surely teasing you with another smart remark of how much energy you’re spending by hating the poor boy and how it’s not possible for you to not fall in love with him soon after how much time he spends in your mind, but Han Jiung can’t read minds. And even if he could, you’d just tell him to fuck off. Because he is wrong.

“Am I boring you, Y/N?” asks Mrs Jung, fully startling you awake as you straighten your back and properly sit on your uncomfortable chair again.

“Of course not!” you call out, blinking rapidly to keep your eyes from closing on themselves again.

“Oh, I thought I was, by how tired you seem by listening to me.” she just smiles at you, then continues talking and looks at the other students in your class, leaving you to blush to yourself without giving you more attention.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, looking around the classroom. You feel embarrassed. You really didn’t mean to give your favorite professor the wrong idea-- you just got to bed really, really late yesterday. It happened often, but you guess that it just took a bigger stroll on you today.

Your eyes meet the orbs of your moral enemy, that just gazes into you with intensity. You quickly look away. Why is he doing that? His eyes look worried. He’s not supposed to look at you in such a way-- he’s supposed to laugh at how you’ve just been scolded. He just won a few points to himself by paying more attention than you, he just got on the better side with your favorite professor, yet he doesn’t look like he’s enjoying it at all.

A small piece of paper catches your interest from the corner of your eye. You read through it, recognising the loopy handwriting of your seat-mate.

did you stay up late studying again?

You sigh, taking a pen out of your pencil case and neatly writing under it, trying not to get caught by Mrs Jung. You really don’t want to get scolded for the second time today.

yeah

you should probably relax a little, your grades are already good to begin with

You roll your eyes at the note. Of course he’d say something like that. In elementary school, your grades were good without even trying. All you had to do was pay attention in class and write what you could remember, but now, in high school, everything is a little harder for you and you suddenly weren't good enough anymore. And yeah, you could say that grades don’t even matter that much, but for you, they meant everything.

yeah that’s bc i study jisung

now you’re falling asleep tho how is that helping

You don’t answer him. It’s not that he’s wrong. It’s just that… you’re not going to tell him that he is. Yes, you falling asleep wasn’t helping you in the tiniest, because the less you pay attention in class, the more you have to study at home, and the more you study, the less you sleep, which means you’re going to fall asleep in class the next day and it’s just an endless cycle.

sorry :( but just remember that grades aren’t everything Anne you can get an F once in a while

thanks

You write. But you don’t really mean it.

Because if you get an F, you’re not going to be the top of the class anymore.

And how will you get a scholarship if you’re not?

You arrive to the library, sighing to yourself as you quickly take your coat off and smile to Mrs Kim, the older librarian that let you work here part-time for the time being. You didn’t get paid much, but you loved the job. For the most part, it was easy-- there weren’t many people coming to libraries these days anymore and you could just stay behind the counter, occasionally letting people borrow books and writing them into the evidence. You had a lot of time to study there as well, it was silent and calm. Sometimes, you felt like your heart could rest a little in the small place.

“I’m sorry for coming late Mrs Kim, but the bus was late so I couldn’t get here sooner-” you rush out out of breath, dropping your backpack under the counter, ready to change seats with your employer that was done with her shift for the day.

“It’s totally okay, sweetheart, you know there’s no rush.” she smiles at you, reassuring your nerves with the gesture. You were glad you had such caring people around you. You met with Mrs Kim more than you did with your own mother-- it was strange, but comforting to know that at least someone close to a parental figure was still in your life.

Maybe you just hung yourself into older, reliable people because you lost the security you had in your own mother. Or because you didn’t even have a father to begin with. You don’t know if you’re doing the right thing, but in your heart, it surely feels like you are.

You nod at her, seeing her leave and wave at you as she takes her things with her before you’re left alone with your thoughts. You sit yourself on the chair, looking around for a moment, before you take out your notes and start working on your homework. The library felt like a safe space-- not that you didn’t have the silence and comfort at your own home, since you were home alone all the time anyway-- but here, at least you felt like there was a reason behind your loneliness. You were at work, after all.

You wonder if things would have been different for your mum if she didn’t have you so young. Maybe she would still be happy with your dad-- maybe she wouldn’t have to work a lot just to get you through life. It’s not easy, raising a child on your own when you are a child still, you realise that. And your mother does a good job-- at least you think she is-- but sometimes, you wish your life would be different.

You curse at your mother for being so reckless when she was young. If you’d be born later, she’d finish school. Give you a better life. Maybe, you would even have a father. You would be a little happy family, going on vacations and enjoying your lives.

Now, you’re stuck with trying your hardest to be the best at everything. To have your life figured out, because at your age, your mum surely didn’t. You know you shouldn’t blame her-- you need two people to create a child, but there was no other person for you to blame.

You try your hardest to get a scholarship, because you can’t pay for college on your own. You work so your mother doesn’t have to stay at her job over-night so often just to pay the bills. You educate yourself to be smart and successful-- because that will surely change your life for the better, right?

Suddenly, you hear the bell above the door of the library ring, startling you away from your thoughts. You look that way with a polite smile on your face you’ve taught yourself while working at customer service, ready to greet the customer with fake enthusiasm, when your mouth hangs open without a word. Startled would be an understatement to the feeling you feel at the moment.

“Hello,” the person greets politely, looking at you momentarily before going up to the counter with a stack of books in his hands. He looks up after placing them on the surface and that’s the moment when you see he realises your presence fully-- after seeing his face fall into shock.

“Good afternoon,” you grunt ironically, taking the books closer to yourself so you can check them in, recognising his eyes following your every move from the corner of your eye, “your ID?” you raise up your eyebrows at him, annoyance apparent in your features.

“Oh, right,” he catches himself, quickly patting every pocket of his clothing, until he puts up his hand into his backpack and browses through his wallet, slender fingers offering you the little card so you can scan the code.

The computer freezes for a bit and you curse to yourself-- did it really have to happen now? With Kim Seungmin watching you like an alien? The computer at your local library wasn’t the newest, per say. It didn’t even have to be, your usual customers were just as old, if not even older than that piece of machinery, they didn’t mind waiting. But now wasn’t the time for the computer to freeze. You feel yourself losing your nerves, bouncing your leg up and down, angrily glaring at the screen.

A minute passes, than another-- could it even get worse than this?

“So,” clears his throat Seungmin, making you snap your head up to meet his gaze, “what’s up?” he asks, shocking you again.

“Why do you care?” you snap, glaring at him instead. How dare he act so casually after saying all those mean things to you? You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Because you’re my classmate…?” he furrows his brows, tone of voice cautious, sounding like a question instead.

“And?” you ask, watching the screen of the computer instead, cursing at the new electronic system Mrs Kim decided to install. It would have been so much easier if you could just scribble down your signature on a small piece of paper and take the books like you used to do before, but no, she was all about innovation.

“And I thought we were civil enough for a casual conversation,” he rambles, making you snort in disbelief.

“Oh, we are anything but civil.” you respond, losing your nerves, taking your hand and angrily hitting the top of the screen, as if it was supposed to make the computer work. You violently curse under your breath, hitting it a few times, each one more lightly, until the program starts to work, finally registering the books back into the library evidence.

“Why do you even hate me so much?” he asks after you stop, looking at you with annoyed eyes and a look worthy of an oscar-winning actor. He didn’t care, you knew that, but he sure looked like he did.

You just scoff at him, shaking your head.

“Goodbye,” is all you offer him, his library ID in your hand, before he takes it and rolls his eyes at you again, like many times before. With that, he leaves-- just like you wanted him to-- and you can finally relax.

You sigh out, taking a seat on your chair again, angirly shutting your textbooks close and grunting under your breath. You put your head into your hands, resting them on the table, breathing heavily. You won’t even be able to study now, and it’s all thanks to him.

Why do you even hate him so much?

Kim Seungmin is an interesting individual. As you continue to work in the library the next week, you meet him there every single day. You don’t even have the energy to bark at him anymore-- he slid into your life like a gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe. Always there, but you never get used to it and it’s still annoying when you walk around.

Kim Seungmin is your moral enemy, as we already established. He comes into the library every day and you’re convinced it’s just because he wants to piss you off, but you don’t give him the satisfaction of letting him rile you up anymore. You just silently glare at him and sigh when the timing feels right to show him how much you actually still hate his presence.

He comes back one day while you’re working on your essay, sitting at the table with furrowed eyebrows and the end of your pen trapped between your teeth. The copy of the play is sitting open right in front of you and his eyes fall into it, recognising the underlined replicas and words. You didn’t work on that essay together ever since your first meeting and the due date was nearing, all he wanted to do was review it with you to at least know what he was getting into.

“Can you even read all of these books in a day when you keep coming back for more every time?” you grumpily mumble as you check back the books you, as the librarian, let him borrow yesterday. They are quite thin, but still, you doubt he was so quick to read all of them in a single afternoon.

“Why do you care?” he asks, snickering to himself. Of course, here he is-- annoying every single cell and fiber of your body again.

“Oh, trust me, I don’t. It’s just getting a little annoying.” you ironically smile at him, sitting back to your chair as you finish lending him the new stash of books. You’re not even sure where he got all of these from, since they don’t even look that interesting, but you choose not to think about it any longer as you get back to your essay, scribbling onto the lined paper.

“I like what you’ve written so far,” he says, startling you. You thought he left already-- I mean, why would he even stay? But he didn’t and he was standing right in front of you, eyes skimming over your messy handwriting.

“No you don’t. You’re arguing against me.” you snap back, darting your eyes to him, seeing him sigh.

“Whatever,” he shakes his head, “I was just wondering when you’re going to finally stop being so childish so we can work on that project together, you know.”

“I’m not childish-”

“Stop arguing with me for once, for god’s sake!” he rushes out, throwing his arms in the air in nerves, huffing out in frustration. “Look, I’ll be here tomorrow. The same time. I’ll bring my things and if you still don’t let me work with you, I won’t write anything and we’ll get a bad grade together. Take it or leave it.”

And with that, he is gone.

Fuck Kim Seungmin.

Turns out your enemy is a man of his word.

He truly does show up the next day-- with his backpack slung on his shoulder, cute big glasses sitting on his nose and a stack of papers in his hands. He raises his brows at you upon arriving and you just let out a defeated sigh.

You put a lot of thought into this yesterday evening. Did you hate Kim Seungmin? Of course you did. Was he really annoying? Yes. But were you going to get a bad grade just because of that? Not a chance.

And so you choose to give up on the small war and let him sit in front of you, you let him casually ask you questions about the essay and surprisingly, you answer. It is kind of easy, working with a partner on the same exact level as you, because, and now, don’t get me wrong, you love your classmates, but it seemed like you did all the work all the time. It was nice to have somebody by your side that actually managed to do something and took his part responsibly.

“So, since we’re not just gonna go there and argue right from the start, I wrote a little something about William Shakespeare and his background as well in the introduction, I actually didn’t get around to writing the introduction to the play itself, but-”

“Oh that’s fine, I have it done. We can just stick that in there,” he smiles at you warmly, taking you by a surprise.

You’ve never seen Kim Seungmin smile at you. It was strange to act so friendly around him. Perhaps you were really losing your mind while studying so much.

“Perfect.” you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“I also have the general storyline written down so you don’t have to do that…” he mumbles, looking away for a while when your eyes meet. Is this supposed to be so awkward?

“Nice.” you opt to simply reply in your usual cold nature, nodding.

“Can you tell me which topics you wrote about? So I know if I need to write my part about more things…” he takes the initiative again and you’re actually kind of glad, because that means you don’t have to think of the schedule of your little meeting anymore.

“Oh, right,” you say, shuffling around in your papers, “um… I just wrote about the age aspect, how reckless their love was, the image of love itself in the play, I also wrote about how meaningless the rivalry was…” you mumble, averting your eyes to the blue ink on the paper.

“Awesome, so we have all of that done… except from the love thing. Okay, I’ll write it next time I come around, since I have tutoring in a few,” he smiles, standing up from the chair, taking all of his things with him.

“Next time?”

“Yeah, well, we still have to finish it. You’ll be here on Tuesday, right? Since the class is on Thursday, so we can have time for the finishing touches.” he proposes, leaving you staring at him, startled.

“O...kay,” you nod, watching him leave.

“Perfect! I’ll see you around, bye!” he cheers, escaping the library that now feels so much hotter than before, leaving you all alone. You notice his tall figure rushing the other way of the library, watching it until it disappears completely out of your sight.

You notice how hot your cheeks are, bringing a hand to rest against the burning surface, taking deep breaths to somehow calm down the racing heart you are only recognising now, that he’s gone.

You still have a lot of work to do before Tuesday-- one of your tasks, it seems, is to try to not fall for his friendly nature and welcoming smile. Because perhaps, he was right all along-- why do you even hate him so much?

Kim Seungmin has always been your moral enemy-- you despised everything about him, from the way he was always so calm and collected, so sweet and caring, so smart and thoughtful. You despised his composure. You despised the way he always somehow managed to make friends with everyone around him no matter who the person was.

He was everything you weren’t. You were just the quiet kid from a broken family that always had to look after herself. You were the kid that had to keep on trying to be the best one, because your mind didn’t let you accept the second place.

Yet now, that Kim Seungmin is sitting right in front of you with a sweet smile plastered onto his features and a stack of notes in his hands, making your heart race with his every move, you start to quietly doubt your silent hatred for the boy.

He makes it so easy to be likeable. You’re jealous of him.

“Okay, so, do you want to start reading? I think it might help us to have a run down before presenting this on Thursday,” he asks you, leaving you to take a deep breath in, nodding to yourself.

You skip the introduction bits-- both of you know a little too much about the play and its author already, you have no reason to be reading those parts out loud. Something inside of you starts shaking at the thought of presenting your work to him. You were never really good with presentations, your quiet nature leaving you getting hot in the cheeks and stammering every time you had to read in front of the class, but now, it feels even worse with the boy staring at you, listening to everything you have to say.

“They say Romeo and Juliet describe a love that surpasses all boundaries, but a close reading of the play suggests the lovers’ feelings are more complicated than pure love. If we look, we can find plenty of evidence that Romeo and Juliet’s love for one another is, at least initially, immature. Romeo begins the play claiming to be passionately in love with another woman, Rosaline. When he sees Juliet, he abandons Rosaline before he has even spoken to his new love, which suggests that his feelings for both women are superficial. Juliet, meanwhile, seems to be motivated by defying her parents. She is unenthusiastic about her parents’ choice of husband for her, and at the party where she is supposed to meet Paris, she instead kisses Romeo after exchanging just fourteen lines of dialogue with him. When Romeo returns to see Juliet, she is focused on marriage. For Juliet, part of the appeal of marriage is that it will free her from her parents: ‘I’ll no longer be a Capulet’,” you read out quietly. The room is silent, you can even hear the passing cars outside of the window, but Seungmin says nothing. You pay a daring look to him, finding him focused on your face, which makes you shakily drift your eyes back, reading some more so you can distract yourself.

“Marriage is, also, another great aspect of the story-- Juliet is only 13 in the play and even though we can argue and say that historically, she was of age to get married, I still think it is irresponsible to marry so young and so quickly. It brings a bad view of reckless love to young readers that are forced to read the play while growing up.” you continue, hearing Seungmin smirk from the other side of the table.

“‘With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out’, Romeo says, however, to Juliet, all of the freedom she gets from love sparks in the idea of leaving her parents so she can have sex.” you read out, hearing Seungmin finally burst out laughing.

You stop reading, looking up to him with questioning eyes.

“Why are you so dramatic about all of it anyway?” he asks you, making you furrow your brows in confusion.

“What do you mean dramatic? I was supposed to write about my own view of it, so I did just that. You don’t have to laugh at me for it,” you shake your head, kind of feeling pathetic for the way your heart is racing. The thing is, and you know it sounds ridiculous, you actually feel kind of hurt by the sound of his laughter.

“I understand that, but why do you keep bashing the author for writing it like that? It’s like you don’t even believe in love, all you did was criticise all of the ideas he had. And so what if they were young and reckless? They were still in love, you know?” he rambles, making your blood boil again.

“You can’t just ignore all of it because it was in history. I don’t think it’s normal to marry so young and to claim you are in love so quickly, because you know what? If they survived, they would make a child. And then, they would realise how they fucked up their own life and Romeo would run away from her with a snap of his finger, because that’s what young, immature boys do. And then-” you raise your voice, not even realising how heated you got with the argument as you continue to ramble. The vision of your own parents and your own story is slowly eating you all up from the inside, when suddenly, Seungmin cuts you off again with a laugh.

“But you don’t know that. It’s not even in the play and your conspiracies are just… pathetic, really,” he shrugs, taking in your distressed state.

Pathetic conspiracies. Is this what he called your life?

“Leave.” you say, breathing heavy.

“What? We didn’t even-”

“You criticize everything I write, not even recognising that maybe I do have a reason for feeling like this and maybe I really do not want to idolise young, immature love when I know just how much damage it can make, so please, for the love of god, Kim Seungmin, leave me alone!” you yell out, standing up from your chair and pointing to the door.

“Y/N-”

“I said get out!” you scream. His deep eyes stare at you for a few minutes, startled, before he hurriedly takes his things and leaves through the front door.

Once you’re finally alone again, you sigh heavily and put your head into your hands. You feel your eyes burning, trying to desperately blink away the stupid tears filling your saddened orbs, but it’s no use as you see a few teadrops fall onto the opened copy of Romeo and Juliet on the table.

‘It’s easy for someone to joke about scars if they’ve never been cut.’, it says.

Maybe you were fooling yourself when you thought Kim Seungmin will no longer be your enemy after all of this.

10.

You raise up to your feet when Mrs Jung calls on you on Friday. You already know what’s going to happen-- you’d been preparing yourself for this moment for the past two long, miserable days. You hadn’t spoken to Seungmin since that day in the library and frankly, you feel like after all of this, you have nothing to say to him. You feel like all energy has been sucked out of you, like you are just a walking cage without a soul just ready for this whole project to be over.

You scan the faces of your classmates, most of them looking interested by your essay. They must be expecting drama, an outburst of emotions as you listen to Seungmin’s words, but you won’t give them the satisfaction today. You’re just going to do your part-- you’re going to read out what you have to say and that’s where it ends. You’re not wasting your energy on Kim Seungmin anymore. It’s not worth your time at all.

So you start, just like that time in the library. You make all your points, you mention all of the topics you wanted to discuss. You throw it right in front of their faces, silently confessing to them all of your deepest secrets and insecurities, because the truth is, you wouldn’t feel so strongly about the play if it didn’t affect you as much.

And when you’re done, you let your rival speak. You listen to him with curiosity, it doesn’t matter how much you’re trying to convince yourself you don’t actually care. His words flow into your ears and fill your mind with thoughts, every single one of them dedicated to his neat handwriting and his brain full of mysteries he is currently uncovering right in front of you.

“To be honest, Y/N’s words made me think. They made me think too hard. They made me question if my point of view was actually as correct as I thought it was. You see, Y/N is a smart girl. No one can deny that. Perhaps that is what made me doubt my own words so much in the first place,” he starts, looking you directly in the eye, but quickly averting his eyes to the small group of people in the classroom instead, “but still, even though there are some points of her essay that I agree with-- like the age aspect, even though historically, it could be meaningless, as well as the way their marriage comes too fast, there are still things I strongly disagree on.”

He takes a deep breath, shuffling the papers in his hands until he finds the right one, and starts speaking again. “Y/N says their love isn’t as pure as it seems to be. With Romeo abandoning Rosaline and with Juliet desperately wanting to break away from her parents, it may seem that way. However, I think that yet, while the two characters may have initially fell for each other due to a mixture of convenience and lust, Romeo and Juliet’s language shows their passion maturing into real love,” he says, taking a short look at you that makes your insides burn in flames, “In their first meeting, they compose a sonnet together using the religious language of pilgrimage. They both start using astrological language to describe their love. As their relationship develops, they use less rhyme, which has the effect of making their language feel less artificial. These changes in the lovers’ language show that they are growing together. They are growing to care more deeply for each other, they are growing into a feeling of love they have for each other.”

“Another thing I disagree with Y/N on is her image of love. ‘Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn,’ she quotes. Romeo asks his friend, Mercutio, this question when he feels hurt by his love. Yet, as I already mentioned, in my opinion, love is growing. And growing is a journey-- in every journey, there is going to be some pain,” he looks at you again, as if to tell you that his words aren’t meant for the class, but for you and your ears only. It doesn’t look like he’s arguing with you anymore--he is simply telling you what’s on his mind. What he believes in.

“In theory, I think love is beautiful. I understand the pain and I understand the journey. And with me saying I disagree, I’m not saying Y/N’s opinion is wrong. It’s simply what she believes in,” he nods his head, locking his eyes with Mrs Jung, “but perhaps, it’s the romantic in me that believes that the image of love portrayed in this book was, in fact, beautiful.”

He clears his throat, looking at you again, but this time, his eyes don’t drift to the papers in his hand, rather speaking from his memory instead of reading out the things he had written down. “‘The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing, and think it were not night.’ Isn’t that beautiful?” he averts his eyes to the class, smiling to himself and looking to the ground.

Somehow, his words feel heavy on you. Like they hold the weight of the world, like what he said wasn’t just to prove a point to you. Perhaps Kim Seungmin saw through the hurt you feel-- perhaps he tried to understand. Maybe, he even tried to make you feel better.

Somehow, his words feel like a confession. His ending ment of saying ‘thank you for your time’ goes unnoticed in your brain, everything turning blurry as the bell rings just as your presentation ends, your brain, eyes-- your whole being focused on Kim Seungmin and the way his voice recitated the words with such passion in his heart.

“‘And where two raging fires meet together, they do consume the thing that feeds their fury,’” the voice of your English literature teacher cuts through your senses like a knife, the smile on her face bringing you back to reality, “Good job, you two.”

11.

A kick in a face wouldn’t hit you harder than seeing Kim Seungmin appear in the library the next day. You aren’t prepared to see him, not when all you’ve been thinking of the last night without being able to fall asleep were his words, his mind and his face. You saw him every time you closed your eyes-- it was like he suddenly imprinted himself into your brain. It was crazy. You felt crazy.

Romeo and Juliet fell in love at first sight. Romeo and Juliet got married the next day.

How much time did it take you to fall in love with Kim Seungmin?

Suddenly, you have no idea. And what makes it all worse is the fact that somehow, it all makes sense in your eyes. Maybe Jisung was right when he told you that giving so much energy into hating the boy would somehow make you end up like the 21st century replica of Anne of the Green Gables and Gilbert Blythe.

“Hello,” he breathes out, the corners of his mouth slightly curving up before he bites the nervous smile down, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Hi,” you shyly greet him, noticing the book in his hands alongside with the library card, taking it from his reached-out hand. You recognise the book way too well, the hard covers a little dusty and the spine damaged from the amount of people that had borrowed this book from the library before.

You take the copy of Romeo and Juliet and place it on the table, registering it back into the database. It feels like a chapter of your life is ending. It seems like forever since you’ve been assigned the project, but in a way, you know that nothing will ever be the same.

You kept thinking of his words in the night. How in his romantic mind, love is beautiful. And it’s a journey that requires pain, in a way.

You kept thinking of how your parents were in love. And then, they were in pain. It was their journey that somehow ended up with you being born, ended up with your father leaving you because he couldn’t bear the responsibility. You kept thinking about how you used to blame your mother, even though all she ever did was raise you and love you. And in a way, you knew Seungmin was right and love was beautiful-- it brought your mum pain, but she was happy while it lasted. And you were the proof of that.

You give him back his library ID, fully expecting him to leave without another word, but he doesn’t. He takes it back from your hold, slipping the card into his back pocket, giving you a meaningful look as he sighs.

“I-”

“Look-”

You both start at the same time, nervously laughing before prompting the other one to speak first. You avert your eyes away from his face, letting him know you won’t be the first one to speak this time, patiently waiting for him to start talking.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like I hate you or anything, because, well, it’s quite the opposite, really,” he chuckles, wiping his hands against his pants, “I never had the guts to hold a proper conversation with you before, because honestly, I was too shy to do that, since you’re like… so smart and everything, but yeah,” he sighs again, shortly looking you in the eyes before finishing his little speech, “I’m just… sorry, I guess?”

You feel your lips tugging into a smile, shaking your head in disbelief before speaking up again. “No, I should be the one saying sorry, because I was the one acting like a bitch… I guess that were just my own insecurities getting in the way.”

His smile mirrors yours in no time, taking your breath away as you curse in your own head. You feel crazy. So, so damn crazy for liking it so much.

“It’s okay. I guess we both had some things that came in the way. If I wasn’t acting so cold, maybe you wouldn’t hate me as much-”

“No, it’s not your fault!” you stop him, reaching out a hand to gesture him that he is talking nonsense.

He nervously shifts his weight from one leg to another, taking a short look at his shoes, gaining all of his courage before speaking up again. “I know this may sound ridiculous, but would you maybe want to… hang out sometime?”

“Hang out?” you repeat, voice a few octaves higher than usual.

“Y-yeah,” he nods, eyes big, “I was actually thinking of asking you out on a date but since you used to hate me until now, I didn’t want to go too fast-”

“It can be a date,” you jump in. The voice in your head is screaming at you now, hell, it is running around your head and hitting the walls in anger and panic. How the hell did you end up in this position? Asking Kim Seungmin out on a date? You really must be ridiculous.

“Okay,” he smiles, urgently nodding.

“Okay.” you grin. You exchange a daring stare into each other’s eyes before he deeply inhales and scratches the back of his neck, turning on his heel and quickly pacing to the door. You almost think he’s going to leave, but he quickly looks back and stops in his tracks, shooting you one last, bright smile.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow!” he cheers, not even letting you respond before he runs out of the door.

As the library falls into dead silence, you take a seat on the chair, sighing deeply and bringing your head into your palms resting on the table, just like many times before when Seungmin left the comfort of the library, but this time, there’s a goofy smile playing with your lips as you think of the last few minutes, chuckling to yourself. This was an outcome you did not expect from the project-- but it’s an outcome you don’t mind at all.

Romeo and Juliet fell in love at first sight. How long did it take you?

It’s fair to say at least two weeks.

Maybe you were foolish and maybe it will hurt, but there’s something tempting at the warm feeling in your chest and the excitement Seungmin’s presence makes you feel, and that feeling alone doesn’t let you give up on this just yet.

Your eyes fall to the opened book of Romeo and Juliet you’d left on your table just before he arrived, meaning to return the copy of the play to the library. You’re met with a sentence that makes you chuckle at the irony, the foolishness washing over you mixed with a feeling of joy you can’t quite comprehend yet, but welcome it with your arms wide open and expecting heart.

‘My only love sprung from my only hate.’

701 notes · View notes

evermoreholland · 3 years

Text

Falling | Professor!Tom

PROFESSOR!TOM X STUDENT!READER

summary: you couldn’t help but fall for your professor

warnings: student/teacher relationship

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i can’t help but be so proud of this fic. i have never written something like this before and i’m so thankful that tom looked so gorgeous in that interview omg and inspired this! hope you like it <3

It’s Monday morning of the first day of the semester. Your feet hurt. You have walked for what feels like hours but in actuality was only around 20 minutes. You didn’t expect the walk across campus to be so torturous. It was hot outside and you, being the cozy and almost lazy person you were, wore a sweatshirt instead of fitting the weather. You instantly regretted scheduling your British History class at 8am. You were tired and you should have known not to schedule a morning class.

You walked up the stairs to enter the History department building and made your way to your classroom. You walked across the hall for a couple of minutes, searching for the designated room. You were about 5 minutes early, wanting to make sure you had time in case you got lost on the way across campus. You pushed open the door to reveal an almost empty classroom, only a couple of students already there. You made your way into the room to find a desk, muttering a quiet “hello” to the professor whom you haven’t gotten a chance to look at yet.

“Good morning,” he greeted. His thick British accent filled the room. Once you placed your books down and took a seat in the front of the room, you looked up to see the professor who would be teaching you this semester. His name was Professor Thomas Holland. Brown eyes and curly brown hair. A nice smile. A black lightweight turtleneck clung to his torso and he gave the few students in the room the brightest smile you have ever seen from a professor. You have only heard a few things about Professor Holland. He was young and well-accomplished. Most if not all people loved him and thought he was an outstanding professor.

Professor Holland walked towards your desk and you averted your eyes away from him. New teachers always scared you. Meeting new people was often terrifying, especially if it’s someone as accomplished as your professor. “I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Professor Holland.”

“Y/N L/N,” you said. You couldn’t understand how a professor could be quite this young. He looked to be around 26 if you were guessing. “Nice to meet you, Professor.”

“Likewise,” he smiled. “I’m looking forward to having you in my class.” He took a moment to run his fingers through his hair. He turned his head when a group of students walked into the classroom. “Looks like we’ll be starting soon. I hope you end up liking British History, Y/N.”

Professor Holland walked over to greet the rest of his new students and then began teaching the lesson. The lecture passed by slowly. You participated a lot at the beginning of the seminar, but towards the end, you began to slip away a bit. You enjoyed listening to Professor Holland speak so passionately about British History but you were exhausted because of your lack of sleep from the night before.

After about an hour Professor Holland said, “Class dismissed.” You got up and collected your supplies before leaving the classroom. Just as you were about to leave, Professor Holland approached you by the door. “Can I speak with you for a second, Y/N?”

“Of course, Professor,” you replied quietly. To be quite honest, you were scared to speak with your professor one-on-one. Maybe he had noticed that you were not paying much attention during the end of class. You didn’t think that Professor Holland would be rude to you, but confrontation wasn’t usually a fun time.

The man pulled a chair towards his desk before sitting down himself on the opposite side. “Have a seat, Y/N.”

You walked to the chair quickly and sat down giving all of your attention to your professor. “Is everything alright, Y/N?” Professor Holland asked, arms crossed over his chest. His voice was gentle and his company inviting. “You seemed to be zoned out towards the end of class today. I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“My apologies, Professor,” you said shyly.

“My class wasn’t too boring, right?” He joked. He reached over to grab his cup of what you assumed was tea and took a sip. His long slender fingers grasped onto the cup as he took another sip and placed it down. It was hard not to stare at someone as attractive as him. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you felt an attraction towards your history professor.

“Not at all,” you said.

“Then what seems to be the issue? You can talk to me, Y/N. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable here,” he reassured you. You had never expected this type of interaction to happen between you and a professor. Most people wouldn’t care that you were zoning out in class, but Professor Holland did.

“I just didn’t sleep well last night,” you said nervously. “But I did enjoy your class nonetheless.”

“I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed my class, Y/N,” he said and then got up from his chair, and you followed his actions and got up yourself. “University means no sleep so I get it. Coffee and tea do wonders, though.”

“Noted,” you laughed and he followed suit. “Thank you, Professor Holland.”

“No worries,” he said as he led you to the door. “If you need help reviewing the rest of the notes, I’d be happy to meet with you sometime. Your ideas in class were incredible. I’d love to hear more from you,” he complimented.

“Thank you, Professor. I would really appreciate that.”

“My office is on the second floor. Room 203. How does tonight at 7 sound?”

“Sounds great. Thank you,” you said and then left. You were grateful that Professor Holland wanted to go over the notes with you. You also felt a pang of excitement consume you. You didn’t understand completely why though. He was your professor and that was it. It doesn’t matter how insanely attractive he is, he is your educator and nothing more than that.

You went to the rest of your lectures for the day, none of them being as interesting as Professor Holland’s was and no one nearly being as attractive as he was. You went back to your dorm room after your last class to do some assignments, eat, and change before meeting with your professor. You decided on wearing a light short-sleeved shirt and some jeans, much different than what you were wearing to class this morning. You let your hair down, grabbed your books and notes, and made your way to Professor Holland’s office.

To say that you were feeling nervous may have seemed weird, but it was true. You approached the history department and you let out a breath that you had been holding. You took the stairs to the second floor. You walked down the halls to find your professor’s office and made it out to be the only room with its lights on. You knocked on the door about three times. You heard shuffling footsteps from the other side of the door. Professor Holland opened the door and gave you a bright smile.

“Hello, Y/N,” he greeted sweetly. Tom was wearing a black t-shirt and blue jeans, unlike what he wore this morning during class. “Come in.”

“Thank you for reviewing the notes with me, Professor,” you said as you walked further into his office. “My pleasure,” he muttered.

“Y/N, do me a favor?” Professor Holland said as you both sat down at his desk. “Cut the formalities when we’re one-on-one together. Call me Tom.”

“Alright, Tom,” you said, his name almost foreign on your tongue. “Are you sure that’s appropriate though?”

“Maybe not,” he laughed. “But Professor Holland makes me feel old, and I’m only 26.” You pulled out your notebook from your bag while Tom opened up his computer to view the slideshow. “How did you become so accomplished at such a young age?”

Tom laughed and put his arms behind his head, getting comfortable. Almost. “That’s a story for another time, darling.”

You almost felt butterflies in your stomach by hearing him call you that. “Okay, Professor Holl- I mean, Tom.”

“Why don’t we get started, shall we?”

You both reviewed the notes for around an hour. Casual small talk filled the room whenever you would write things down in your notebook. Tom was intelligent, but you already knew that. He was charming, sweet, and most importantly, he made you feel comfortable in his presence. He never made you feel stupid whenever you were confused about something or when you would ask a question. Once you were finished reviewing the notes, Tom gave some extra material in case you wanted to review. “Let me get one more book for you that I’d think you’d enjoy.”

He got up from his desk and made his way to the bookshelf in the back of the room. He picked up the old book and gave it to you with a smile. “Keep it as long as you need. It’s really good, and I’m not that much of a reader so that’s saying something.” You couldn’t help but absolutely love Tom’s smile. The way his eyes crinkled and the way his skin glowed made you feel more attracted to him. You grabbed the book from him and your fingers brushed together slightly. The butterflies came back again.

“Thank you, Tom. Thank you for everything. Again,” you giggled. “My pleasure, Y/N.”

A few seconds of comfortable silence filled the room until Tom said, “It’s getting pretty late, darling. I have some papers to grade and you should get back to your place.”

“Sorry for keeping you, Professor.” You felt that it was appropriate to go back to formalities, even though you didn’t want to.

“Don’t feel bad, Y/N. I’d love to talk to you. Hopefully, we could do this again sometime.”

“Thank you, Professor. Have a good night.”

“Same to you.”

You didn’t know how to feel. Was Professor Holland being too casual with you? It was only the first day of his class and you already have been in his office. You knew that even a friendly relationship with your professor could be risky. You didn’t want to get Tom into any trouble, no matter how nice getting to be with him sounded to you.

Four weeks passed by. You participated in lectures frequently. You hadn’t stepped foot into Tom’s office since the first day. You wanted to spend time with him but it felt informal to do so if you genuinely didn’t have any questions about the material.

Tom dismissed class for the morning and he stopped before you could leave the classroom. “Y/N, I’d just like to talk to you about your paper. Can you spare an hour?”

“Of course, Professor.”

“Let’s head to my office upstairs,” Tom said. You both made your way up to his office together. Tom locked the door behind him and pulled out a chair for you to sit at. “Y/N, let me be honest with you,” he started.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” You asked embarrassingly. You spent hours working on that paper but you did do it when you were extremely exhausted.

“The exact opposite actually,” Tom clarified. “Your essay was really well written. I just wanted to spend some time with you.” You were shocked, really.

“Excuse me?” You asked quietly and Tom’s face fell.

“I totally read this wrong, didn’t I?” Tom put his face in his hands, obviously stressed out and overwhelmed. “Shit, I’m screwed.”

“Tom, calm down. I’m just confused.”

“I just thought we could talk but now that I’m realizing it, I’m being very inappropriate, aren’t I?” Tom got up from his seat and began pacing around the room. “Tom, it’s okay. Let’s just talk about the extra course material you gave to me the other week.” Tom was glad that you were able to be so cool about the situation and switch subjects fairly quickly.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

You talked about the book you had read from Tom’s collection. Tom continued to be amazed by your insight and intelligence and he couldn’t help but feel a connection between the two of you, even if it was forbidden to pursue.

“Overall, I really liked the book. It had a very interesting perspective about the war. Thanks, Tom,” you concluded.

“No worries, Y/N. Seriously anytime,” he replied gently. He picked up the book that you borrowed and went to put it back on the shelf where it previously sat. “Want another book to read?”

“Sure.” Tom picked up another book and brought it to you. “This one is ahead of where we’re at in class but I think you can handle it,” he laughed.

“Thanks,” you said as you grabbed the book from him. You met his eyes and he was already looking at you. His jaw clenched when you met his gaze but not in an aggressive manner. It seemed like he was nervous and conflicted. “Everything alright, Tom?” You couldn’t help but ask him.

“Y-yeah,” he stumbled over his words nervously. “You’re just really bright, Y/N.” Coming from someone as accomplished as Tom, his compliment meant a lot to you.

“Thank you, Tom,” you replied shyly. “You too.” You stood up to meet his gaze. You were face-to-face and you could almost feel his raging heartbeat. You felt the tension in the air and you could have sworn that Tom briefly glanced towards your lips. He took a deep breath and stepped closer to you. You grabbed his cheek and his mouth went agape.

“Too much, Professor?” You whispered. He shook his head and closed the gap between the two of you. He kissed you with intensity, something that you had been longing for. He wrapped his arms gently around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You continued to kiss him, your hand moving along to his curly brown locks to playfully tug at them, but he finally came to his senses and pulled away from you. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing, Professor?” You looked at him with innocent eyes. “I wanted that just as much as you did.”

“You’re my student, Y/N. No matter how much I enjoyed that, it can never happen again.”

“Okay, Tom. Whatever you say,” you grabbed the book he gave you and put it in your bag. You slung the bag over your shoulder and began to leave his office. Your hand was on the doorknob but then Tom stopped you. “Wait.”

“Yes, Professor Holland?” You turned around to look at him.

“Stop with the formalities and come here,” Tom said. You made your way back to him. “Yes, Tom?”

“Promise me you can keep a secret?” He didn’t need anyone knowing about this if it were to go any further, and boy, did he want it to go further.

“I’ll have you know, Tom, that I’m full of many mysteries,” you whispered as your hand found your way back into his hair. “This can just be another one.”

“You’ll be the death of me, Y/N,” he said and then kissed you. It was probably the most intense kiss you had ever experienced. This was wrong which made it feel so much hotter.

He pulled away to kiss along your neck. “This is wrong,” he mumbled.

“Then why are you still kissing me, Professor?” He looked up to you and stared into your eyes.

“Because I’m falling for you, and that feels right.”

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tom holland #professor!tom #i love this omg #so so proud of myself

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riktorart · 3 years

Photo

“Welcome for the third, and (hopefully) final time to the auditorium, beloved students of Night Raven College! Yes, as many of you expect, this assembly is in regards to our ice cream fundraiser, which has yet to take off! However, now that I’ve recovered from my horrific injuries from last month’s assembly, I say it’s time for us to start anew, and introduce our new line of flavors!

… Why are you all groaning??? Truly you’ve not grown tired of ice cream already, have you?! … No, no, it can’t be… You all just must be far too excited to carry on! Very well! I shall introduce to you the newest flavors, and then you’ll be off! Making me… Err, the school, enough Madol to fix the chandelier that was broken (again) last week!

… Hm? Why aren’t we using the past flavors? … Well… You see there was a… Ah, would you look at the time! If we don’t start now, we’ll never finish! Vargas! Bring up the first cooler!!! NOW!!!

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Lemon Zestvolt- Don’t let his frown fool you, this sweet cream is actually quite sweet, with it’s mellow mix of lemon and lime that’ll make you smile! (... Though, it does take quite a while to actually get past the bitter aftertaste… And it’s surprisingly loud… And… It feels like it’s constantly judging my every move according to a standard that’s quite frankly unrealistic… And... You know what? We’re just going to move on for the sake of my self-confidence!)

Blue Berrygrotto- Despite it’s name, this treat’s name is quite deceiving! It’s not just blueberry, but in fact, a mix of eight different types of berries, all baked into a freshly warm pie and served a la Mode with a trustworthy smile~! (… Hm? What do you mean that sounds a bit much…? Ehrm, no matter!)

Even if it’s a bit… Wet, you won’t mind at all once you enjoy it’s wonderfully sophisticated taste! Ah and would you look at that! On sale for only 300 Madol! What a steal~! Make sure you stop by the cafeteria to buy a Blue Berrygrotto today!

Lion-Colored Kingsicle… Stick- … Well! There was a batch of ice cream in this cooler… And now it’s gone. We have no idea where it we- (... Oh, hold on, did we find them?) … Well! Turns out that as we speak, the original ice cream has been found tucked into obscure corners of the college where no person in their right mind would even think to look, or… On beds… (It seems the only reason they’ve been found is because they’ve begun to melt…)

… Well! We still have popsicle sticks available, so why not treat yourself with some? I’m sure at least one of you could find something to do with so many popsicle sticks!

(Warning: If you encounter this treat on your daily commute, simply back away slowly, and contact a trusted member of Night Raven College Staff to dispose of this treat. Do NOT engage. (Night Raven College is not liable for any injuries/death that may result in confrontation of this product.))

Coco’lover!- Ah, did you think this treat was simply coconut! Well, my delightful students, you are wrong! This ice cream is a delicate balance of coconut, and pistachios, a surprisingly friendly combo! … Well, that is as long as you like coconut… And pistachios… (On second thought, this combo wasn’t the best idea now, is it?)

… Ahem! I hear it pairs quite well with baked delights, so do keep that in mind!

Mortho Energy Drink… Sicle- Tell me children, would you like to stunt your growth by drinking unhealthy shots of pure caffeine? Well, I’m here to inform you that is a foolish idea! Why drink them, when you can eat them instead with an ice cream sponsored by Mortho™ Energy Drinks! Whether it’s for a late-night study session, or for an extra kick during finals, Good ol’ Mortho here will help to keep your poor body conscious against its will!

(... Also, please buy these as soon as possible. He’s beginning to miss one of our discontinued flavors, and will melt… (Night Raven College is not liable for injuries/death that may result from consumption of this product. If Mortho™ Energy Drink-Sickle commences Self-Destruction mode, toss it as far as possible, and duck for cover. To avoid such an occurrence from happening, do NOT insult any person with fire-like hair within the vicinity. It WILL hear you, and it WILL be upset.))

Catolate Diamikan- Do you need to take a… (Wait, what was that one site called…? Ah, yes!) MagiCam-worthy photo of yourself and friends? Well, fret no longer students, as this is the treat for you! A picture of you and Catolate’s smile is sure to be a hit! And if it’s not… Well, he’s flavored like white chocolate and oranges, so either way, you’re a winner!

(... Speaking of photos… Trien, why did you not like my “selfie” that I took earlier this afternoon? … Ah, you’re right! This isn’t the time for such trivialities! I shall simply discuss it with you later then!)

Mir-Lot- A treat based on the likeness of our beloved Magical Mirror itself! Doesn’t it look absolutely stunning, in all it’s glory? Ah, even this old bird can’t help but marvel at it’s timeless beauty… This treat is a nice, deep merlot-flavor, (non-alcoholic, of course!) that I’m sure more mature audiences will enjoy…

And even if you don’t… Well, you don’t want to hurt our beloved mirror’s feelings now, do you? You should buy one anyway, just so it knows for sure it’s appreciated~!

Berry Bad Cat- This… “Cute,” little feline’s filled with many surprises, and though most of them are a hassle… This surprise is actually quite pleasant! A bold blackberry taste, sprinkled with small popping candies that seem to light a spark along your taste buds… Why, it’s surprisingly easy to grow attached to it!

(… Wait, what do you mean my tongue has turned black?! Oh heavens, get me a mirror!!! And water!!!)

Ramshackle Special- Um… Well… This ice cream had no specific flavor. It was an amalgamation of every single flavor crafted so we could save funds and resources, and it was quite awful the majority of the time, so we’d lowered the price for 100 Madol, but… Before we even made the official announcement, someone snuck into my office and took every single one… Of course, they were at least kind enough to leave the funds for it all, but…

Oh, who cares about manners?! WHICH ONE OF YOU RELEASED FIREFLIES INTO MY OFFICE?! … Well, if no one will confess to the crime, then everyone will be punished for the crime! … Later, of course!

Now, like before, we have three special options that are just a tad bit above the rest in terms of flavor and appearances, so despite how kindhearted and generous I am… We will have to charge just a bit extra for these three. Surely you all understand~! These next treats are also quite limited, so if you desire to delight in one, make sure you buy them fast! Once they’re gone, they’re gone!!!

(Well… Not completely, but if people are under the illusion that there is no second chance, then they’re be far more likely to make impulsive purchases! Oh ho ho~ Dire, you clever, dapper man, you~ … Wait, did I say that out loud?)

… Anyway! Our first premium snack!

Rhymes Rosetarts- A delightful treat of sweet cherry tarts with cream and… Oh, is that actually a hint of roses I caught?! How interesting! I’d love nothing more than to dig in, yet… For some reason, I feel that even if my manners slip just a tad, that I’d be chastised… Ah, I suppose I will simply have to consume the treat carefully, lest my suspicions are confirmed true… Which they’re not!

(Night Raven College is not responsible for injuries/death resulting from consumption of this product. Make sure to review the rulebook supplied with each purchase before unwrapping this treat. Once it is free from it’s wrapper, it will always have it’s eyes on you…)

Varbucks™ Iced Protein Coffee- Are you fan of coffee? Or perhaps something sweet, but healthy? Well this treat i-”

“OI, DIRE! WHY AM I THE ONLY STAFF WHO’S ICE CREAM WAS AWFUL?!”

“A-ah! Professor Crewel! Well, err… I’ll… Get back to you on that, yes! So why don’t you have an ice cream and calm d-OWN NO, NO, NO!!! GET OFF THE STAGE I’M SORRY CREWEL PLEASE DON’T H-YAHHH!!!”

Apple Farmier- “... Well, I suppose since the Headmaster was forced to step away for “business,” I should wrap up this assembly. The final dessert available for purchase during our school fundraiser will be the... “Apple Farmier?” (... Crowley seems to have a knack for finding such strange names…)

The Apple Farmier is described to have an almost overly-sweet aroma of ripened apples, yet when bitten into, administers a horrific shock from it’s incredibly sour taste. Those who have tried it described an almost numbing sensation on their tongue, and one such person even lost consciousness as a result of it.”

“Meow.”

“(Hm? Quite right Lucious, thank you for the reminder.) If you purchase this treat, do be aware that our esteemed institution does not hold any accountability for any harm that comes upon you. Do consume the product at your own risk… As for the lot of you who’ve decided to fall asleep during the assembly, I shall see you in detention. In case you’re wondering, yes, I see you, and I will remember if you decide to “ditch.”

Now, you are dismissed. Vargas, please make sure the students return to class while I check upon the Headmaster’s condition… (And hopefully this will be the last of these tedious assemblies…)”

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Bonus

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Lionel Kingsbutter- “Have you ever sat down and thought, “Hm, there seems to be something missing in my life… Something… Hard, surprisingly sweet… And yet, something with a mean bite to match it’s bark?” Well, this treat has no bark, but it does have quite a bite! Smooth, delightful cookie butter than just melts upon your tongue, and plentiful chunks of crispy cookies! They’re a bit… Spicy… But strangely... Delicious! (... Water… I need water...! … Thank you, Trien.)

And if that’s not enough, why, just look at it’s adorable little ears, and i-YEOWCH!!! DID IT JUST BITE ME?! IT’S FROZEN CREAM, HOW DID IT DO THAT?! BAD KITTY, BAD KITTY! WHERE’S THE TRASH C-AAAAH IT’S LATCHED ONTO MY CLAWS!!! SOMEBODY, ANYBODY GET IT OFF!!! GYAAAAAAAH!!!”

#Twisted Wonderland #Leona Kingscholar #Sebek Zigvolt #Azul Ashengrotto #Trey Clover #Ortho Shroud #Cater Diamond #Grim Twisted Wonderland #Riddle Rosehearts #Ashton Vargas #Epel Felmier #Fan Art #Digital Art #Riktor's Art

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professorsnape394 · 3 years

Text

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Two: Shrinking Solution

A/N: This is the second part to my fanficiton ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write!

Pairing: Seveurs Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 2664

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

A week had passed since Severus Snape had stormed out of her grandfather's office in a fit of rage, and Aria concluded that it was time she broke the silence between her and her future mentor. Although Snape and Aria both resided in the Dungeons they had not crossed paths as Severus rarely left his office or his private quarters. She was sure he had the house elves deliver his meals to his office or else he just did not eat. As Dumbledore constantly left the castle grounds this meant Aria often travelled down to eat with Hagrid, the only remaining current resident of Hogwarts. The two of them had become good friends, however this did not stop her searching for friendship among Severus, in the hopes of easing their future working relationship.

Aria left her own private quarters, strolling along the dungeon corridors to Professor Snape's a few doors down from her own. Pacing between his office and his private quarters Aria contemplated whether he would be relaxing in his room or working in his office. Having only met the man once she nevertheless knew exactly where he'd be. Rocking on her heels for a second or two she took a moment to gather her thoughts before knocking confidently on the door.

"Enter." The monotone voice droned after a moment of consideration.

Aria Dumbledore walked into the crowded office covered wall to wall in potion bottles and jarred ingredients. To the back of the room sat behind a desk was a mass of black robes and hair, bent over a stack of books and parchment, scribbling notes furiously onto the parchment. Aria stood there for a minute or two waiting for the professor to look up at her. She wanted him to listen to what she had to say and she wouldn't believe he was truly listening until he faced her.

"Well?" He spoke, face still down towards his notes. "Get on with it."

"I will do so, as soon as I know you are paying attention to me." She spoke clearly, standing firmly on her spot in the middle of the room.

"I'm listening." He droned, scribbling away.

"No." She spoke a little louder, her voice more confident than it had ever been in his presence. this caught his attention. "I want you to look at me, so I know your listening."

Severus nodded in return, motioning for her continue.

"Good." She began, returning his nod, once again trying to remember what she had planned to say. She had been completely thrown off by his reaction to her new position at Hogwarts. From the moment she knew Severus would be arriving at Hogwarts she had made plans in her head to get to know him and his routine. She had hoped they could make a few potions together in order to get more familiar with each other rhythms. She had not yet given up this hope but she knew now it would be a lot harder than she had initially expected. Finally she decided simply being honest with him was the best way to go about it. "I understand this arrangement isn't ideal for you, and I do not agree with the way Professor Dumbledore sprung it on you like that." She started.

"You mean your grandfather." Severus look cut in, his eyes slightly rolling in his head.

Aria cleared her throat, waiting to continue. "As I was saying. I do not want to ruffle any feathers with my being here, however I need this job and there is nothing we can do about it now, so you might as well accept that. Now, in order to familiarise me with your routine I was hoping for the next three weeks or so before term starts that would you tutor me. I just think that it would make the classes flow a lot better if we sort out all of the kinks now rather than later."

"Well, thanks to you and your grandfather I am not sure I will have time to, as you say, 'tutor you'. I have had to complete re-write my entire class curriculum. I am afraid I will be far too busy until the beginning of term. You will simply have to adapt to my way of teaching, whether you like it or not." He droned, turning back to his stack of papers.

Impatiently Aria bit her lip, letting out a small sigh, unsure of where to go from there.

"Like I said, teach me your ways and you will not have to rewrite your entire schedule." She spoke through slightly gritted teeth, becoming annoyed at his lack of cooperation. "We will meet three times a week; Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. No exceptions. I'll see you then." She stated, finally taking control of the situation, leaving the room before the Professor could argue.

* As she arose from her sleep on Tuesday morning Aria opted to dress in more formal attire for her meetings with Professor Snape, as after all this would be a professional interaction, or at least she hoped.

Not wanting to intrude on the man too early in the morning she waited until 1 o'clock in the day, assuming they both would have eaten by then. As the clock stuck 1 she clutched her notebook to her chest and confidently strode along to the professors office.

Aria had spent the previous days carefully planning out a mix of activities and topics to cover in the event that Snape tried to turn her away once more. She was happy with her plan and was confident that Snape could not deem it a waste of either of their time. This thought at the forefront of her brain she gave his door a loud knock before taking it upon herself to enter.

The Potions Master instantly rose from his seat upon her entry, thrusting a stack of parchments into her hands, and immediately set off on a long winded speech he had clearly prepared previously.

She stood aghast by the mans abruptness, staring at him blankly. It was the first time she had properly looked at him since their first meeting. He was tall, taller than she had initially assumed and he towered over her, intimidatingly. He was muscular too, she thought as she focused in on the person standing before her, taking details she had never before noticed. Without the protection of his robes she was able to see his biceps threatening to burst through the material of his black undercoat. Her eyes continued to travel up his body, past his chest that practically touched her own, finally meeting the gaze of the Professor. She instantly noted the exhaustion evident on his face, remembering back to her grandfathers comment on his lack of sleep she guessed the reason for this was not solely caused by the hefty workload of the school year. Despite his tired looking features Aria found his looks intriguing. He was handsome in an interesting sort of way, not in the traditional sense for sure but there was definitely something there, something that made her want to get to know the man more than she expected he would let her.

Severus found himself becoming more and more distracted, losing himself in the woman's eyes as he too fell into a dangerous train of thought.

"Are you paying attention, Miss Dumbledore?" Snape snapped himself back to reality, bringing back Aria with him. She gave herself a shake, her eyes widening realising she had not heard a word the man had spoke.

"Yes. Erm.., no. I'm sorry Severus." Aria stuttered, the blush on her face forming from embarrassment and shame.

"Professor Snape." He corrected, taking a step or too back from her, busying his eyes, focusing them anywhere but on his apprentice. "I will not spend the year repeating myself, Miss Dumbledore. If you cannot prove yourself worthy of this position I'm afraid I cannot work with you. Now, do as I say and we shall get along perfectly fine." He finished, regaining his seat behind his desk, shuffling through yet another stack of papers.

"Actually Professor Snape, I had prepared some tasks for us to get through, myself." Aria begun. "For example, I was hoping today you could go over each years curriculum for the year with me and we could note areas in which I need some revision, which we could tackle later in the week."

"Had you been paying attention, Miss Dumbledore, you would notice that the years curriculum is noted on that stack of parchment I handed you upon your entry. Which I might add showed a complete lack of respect and basic manners. You will knock and wait to be called upon before entering my office from here on out, is that clear." Snape commanded.

Aria glanced at the stack of parchment, noticing the detail in which Snape had gone over the class schedules, it obviously took some time and she was embarrassed she had been too distracted to notice previously. "I apologise, Professor." She said, feeling more like a student being reprimanded than his equal.

The Professor gave a slight nod in response. "In regards to the areas you may need to review, you will have to outline them in your own time, we will visit them at a later date. I do not wish to waste my time with such frivolous things that could so easily been done alone. " He stressed the final word.

It was Arias turn to nod.

The young woman was shocked to find the Professor so prepared for today's meeting, although she was glad he seemed so invested in the cause, she secretly knew he had put in so much effort in order to regain control of the situation. Clearly Aria taking command a few days earlier had not sat right with him.

"As for today." Snape continued. "I have set a task for you to complete, to allow me to analyse your potion making skills as well as your method of brewing."

"Perfect." Aria chirped trying so hard to remember the promise she has made to herself. The man intimidated her she could not hide that fact, but that did not mean she was not a very skilled potioneer. She was determined to prove her abilities to the Professor in the hopes that she gain his respect and therefore develop a balanced working relationship. "What will I be making?" She inquired, taking a step forward towards the Professors desk.

"Shrinking solution." He spoke simply. "I assume, or rather hope, you will not be in need of a recipe? Or should I look out the students text books now and save us both from creating a batch of poison."

"There is no need to be insulting Professor, I am more than capable of brewing a standard OWL level potion. Where will I find my ingredients?" She asked.

Severus Snape lightly rolled his eyes at the young Professor as he focused in on the tattered book in front of him, simply letting out a small grunt and pointing in the directions of a store cupboard off to his left.

Aria ignored her so-called mentor and immediately set to work.

At first Severus let her do her own thing, getting the potion up and running before he decided to interfere and evaluate her work.

He watched intensely as she removed five large and hairy caterpillars from their jar. Skeptically, he emerged from behind his desk, turning up the pressure on Miss Dumbledore.

Unable to contain himself he started to speak. "It helps if you -"

"What? Slice the caterpillars to achieve maximum blood flow." Aria interrupted proudly, knowing he was trying to test her skills. "Surely that would be common knowledge Professor. Now tell me do you prefer to slice horizontally or vertically?" Her confidence getting the better of her.

"It hardly matters." Snape scoffed, displeased by his efforts to belittle the witch.

"Oh I disagree entirely. I found that slicing vertically is not nearly as effective as horizontally. If your doing it vertically.. why it's hardly worth cutting the poor buggers up in the first place." She smirked, feeling like she had achieved a small victory.

The two professors remained silent for a few moments more, allowing Aria to continue her potion while Snape inspected her closely, occasionally jotting down notes and crossing off his personal checklist.

"Don't you have leech juice stocked in your cupboards?" Aria wondered aloud, absentmindedly stirring her concoction.

"I'm sorry?" Severus replied, wondering what she was getting at.

"As you know the recipe calls for the juice of four leeches, though I prefer five." She added slyly. "I had just assumed that a seasoned Potions Master such as yourself would keep readily preserved leech juice in his store cupboard, as this is a staple potion in any school curriculum."

"I prefer to juice my leeches fresh, when it comes to preparing a shrinking solution." Severus admitted through gritted teeth, stunned at the woman's audacity to contradict his methods, when he was supposed to be the one testing her.

"Well each to their own I suppose, I just find it wastes an awful lot of time during the brewing process when a batch of leech juice could easily be prepared beforehand for a many number of potions." Aria Dumbledore shrugged, shooting an innocent smile at her colleague before painstakingly juicing each individual leech directly into the cauldron.

After adding one more shrivelfig and an extra caterpillar, horizontally sliced of course, it was time to let the potion simmer until it reached that perfect green colour Snape anticipated.

And with a wave of her wand the potion was completed to absolute perfection. Aria was confident Severus could find no flaw in her work, although she was slightly nervous that their minor disagreements would only make him more irritable, thus making it more difficult for Aria to gain the approval she now craved.

After five minutes of stirring, testing and inspecting Severus could find no fault with the professor's work to criticise. With a slight hum he returned to his desk, intentionally avoiding looking in the woman's direction.

"As it is, you managed not to create an abomination, therefore I have nothing more to say. Your work is average. I will do what I can to cooperate with you as it seems I have been given no other choice. We are done for the day, you may leave."

"What just like that, and were done? There's so much more we could get through the day is young." Aria pleaded. "I made the perfect potion for you surely that is worthy of your time."

"The perfect potion is expected, Miss Dumbledore. Had you done any less than perfect you would not be qualified to work here. Potion making is an exact science, with very minimal room for creativity. You and I may be daring enough to tread on that line but I have had years of experience, you on the other hand cannot afford the risk of creativity. One day your ego will get the better of you and you may make an irreversible mistake. I suggest you stick to the textbook recipes in the future." Severus raged. He did not appreciate her disobedience or her expectation of a reward for simply doing as she was asked. He saw her open her mouth to object however he managed to get the first and final word in for the night. "Good day, Miss Dumbledore, I have work to get on with." He spat.

And with that he began scribbling some more illegible notes onto his parchment, waiting on the woman to vacate his office.

She stood for a second almost in shock at his rudeness but she had hardly expected any less from him. She supposed she had pushed him far enough for one day and chose to listen to his orders. After all there was not long to go until Hagrid expected her at his home from their meal.

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel

#severus snape #severus snape imagine #severus x oc #severus snape one shot #Harry Potter #harry potter and the goblet of fire #harry potter fanfiction #alan rickman #severus x reader #severus x y/n #severus snape x reader #severus snape fanfiction #potions master #potions masters apprentice

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gloryofluv · 3 years

Text

Traditionally Obscure Chapter 31

Oh, fun. Marius, you jealous gadfly.

Previous Chapter

Vyn turned the horse and stretched his arms during the small lapse of time before the final round for the day. His mood was spectacular for practice, and he enjoyed the feeling of the skirmish. He had been glanced at a few times by his teammates. Was he wearing a particular smile this late morning?

Possibly. It could be the most apparent transition, considering, despite his lack of flamboyant perfection for what he wanted for a courting proposal, it still met marks. She still said yes—different things cluttered around the concept of the present ever-moving into the future.

Then like a beating of wings, the thoughts cleared. His eyes touched on a familiar form in the stands—one of which he wasn’t expecting to see.

Vyn directed his horse toward the railing and paused with a tilt to his head. “I wasn’t expecting you here today,” he smiled.

Rosa beamed and leaned on the railing toward him. “You told me you had practice. I figured after I had breakfast, I would come over to catch a portion of it.”

He laughed and pivoted the horse, so he was closer. “You surprised me. How long have you been here?”

Her smile grew, and his heart fluttered in his chest. “Long enough to see you’ve been a bit lazy, Dr. Richter,” she teased.

He groaned, and his body leaned closer to her. “Well, I’ll have to actually try now that I know you’re watching, Rosa.”

She leaned further and kissed his cheek before returning to her secure position with both feet on the ground. He was glowing, and it could be seen lightyears away. Suddenly, his age was far more apparent. Youthful and excitable.

“Richter!” One of the players shouted.

He chuckled and gripped her hand, kissing it. “I’ll see you after this last round, my dearest.”

Rosa smiled and blew him a kiss before he raced off toward the game. A fire was in his gut. With her by his side, he could triumph any task handed to him.

It could have been her clapping for him or just the renewed vigor of hearing her voice. He dominated that round, ruining his teammates playing opposite of him. Truly, he felt on top of his game. Claps on the back, the usual farewells except for the chin nudges and eyebrow wags. They noted his change in demeanor, and he didn’t blame them.

Vyn paced the horseback toward the stands, and Rosa came down to meet him. A few whistles from his teammates riding by, and Vyn ignored them as he offered his hand. “Join me on the ride back to return my horse?”

She nodded and took his gloved hand. “Of course.”

He assisted her onto the horse as he bent and slid back. Rosa was careful and managed to maneuver onto the slick saddle and closer to his frame. Vyn knew he should care that she was pressed close to his chest in such an inappropriate manner. He even confirmed that he was on a chemical high from the match. However, knowing these facts didn’t lessen his happiness when she smiled back at him.

“How was your morning, Rosa?” He questioned as they began their trek to the stables.

She rocked her head and adjusted her position in her black pants. “It was decent. I wanted to see you before our week started. The first one back.”

“Yes,” Vyn agreed. “I was going to see if you wanted to accompany me to lunch today, but I also didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

“Was I presumptuous?” Rosa glanced back.

“You were exemplary,” he clarified and leaned closer. “Thank you for the nice surprise.”

When they arrived at the stables, Vyn assisted Rosa off the horse before returning it. It gave him a chance to cool down and breathe. Stripping off his gear, he counted backward while reviewing the chemical process of love. Rash actions after finally receiving what you desire would only be a plight of impatience.

Vyn felt the dopamine rush. He experienced the addictive properties of seeing the object of his affection without hindering actions. Well, to a particular level. Vyn inhaled as he reached the single digits and rubbed his face under his glasses. That kiss. Vyn zealously wanted more. He chided himself, and that gave him enough composure to recover.

Time. The timing was everything. Yes. Control.

Gear stripped off and bagged; he strolled out of the stables to see her chatting… with Marius. Vyn immediately felt frustrated at the intrusion. What was he doing here? When approaching, Marius waved and grinned.

“Good morning, Professor,” he smirked.

“Good morning, Marius. I’m interested in finding out what you're doing at the equestrian center today,” Vyn declared as he shifted the bag in his hand.

Marius straightened his jacket and shrugged. “Rosa said she was going to get some fresh air; I figured it was to come to see the horses since she shared such a fondness for them from what she said.”

Vyn allowed his lips to rest pleasantly as he gestured toward the path. “Shall we?” Seething. Frustration. Illogical, but human. Vyn breathed through his nose and allowed the steam to settle.

“Of course,” Rosa nodded. “Marius, I’m starting to think you have a trace put on my phone.”

“If I did, I wouldn’t tell you, Missy,” Marius laughed.

She rolled her eyes as they reached the gravel path toward the parking lot. “I didn’t tell you anything this morning in our texts that would elude me coming here.”

“But Vyn’s polo practice was today,” Marius shrugged.

He was fishing about the date. Which, all things considered, wasn't horrible but an unneeded annoyance. The envy was clear. He only wished this would have been a bit of time away from their bubble. Rosa didn’t need the exposure just yet. Well, a mistake on his part for his pride.

Vyn ignored the probing Marius was subconsciously tossing out and turned his attention to Rosa. “Did you walk over?”

She nodded. “It was a pleasant walk.”

He smiled and pointed to his car. “Then shall we take the car?”

Before she could answer, Marius, wrapped his arm around Rosa. “Oh, we could use the exercise, right?”

“Stop it,” Rosa groaned and shoved his arm from her.

“Now, Miss Attorney,” Marius snorted. “You’re never this annoyed.”

“Maybe she’d prefer not to be touched,” Vyn declared as he opened his trunk, setting his bag inside.

Rosa exhaled and straightened her sweater. “Where were you thinking of eating?”

“Possibly that lovely cafe that serves crepes on Sunday?” Vyn offered as he shut the trunk and walked toward his passenger side.

Rosa grinned as she rocked her head. “That sounds delicious.”

“I thought we were having lunch?” Marius hummed and glanced up from his phone. “I just booked a reservation at the bistro down the street.”

Vyn adjusted his black t-shirt and slid on the buttoned shirt. “Marius, why don’t you go eat at the bistro then? We aren’t on your time today.”

“Oh, Dr. Richter,” Marius tutted. “I’m just trying to do something nice. It’s great food, and I would like to go over a few things.”

Vyn breathed and walked around the car to continue with his buttoning next to Rosa. “Do you feel partial?”

Rosa smirked and reached over, assisting with his shirt. “If he’s paying, then at least we can order whatever we want.”

Marius arched an eyebrow as he observed the pair. “Who said I’d be paying?”

“Me, because you're interrupting my Sunday,” Rosa voiced.

“I suppose that’s settled then,” Vyn smiled.

“Rosa, what were you busy doing last night?” Marius asked.

The woman turned around as Vyn finished situating his shirt and tilted her head. “You’re awfully involved in my personal life, Mr. Von Hagen.”

“Of course I am. You’re going to be my future girlfriend,” he winked and waved her along.

“I never agreed to such nor would ever. Besides, as I’ve always told you, it isn’t your business,” Rosa declared.

Was there some signal Vyn needed to read in this situation? He walked up next to Rosa as they began their trek toward the sidewalk. Her hand grazed against his as Marius smiled over at them.

“Missy, why are you so grumpy today? Do you need me to brighten your day with some good news? Vyn’s practice must have bored you,” He teased.

She huffed and shook her head. “Marius.”

Vyn took her hand in his, and her fingers knitted perfectly. There was a bit of tension in her grip, and Vyn could see that her jaw had a bit of tightness. Had he made an error in not being decisive? He had a summary of courtship behavior from his uncle quite a few months back when he first mentioned Rosa. However, this wasn’t Svart, nor was it clear as to how comfortable she was vocal.

The man tends to lead with dancing. It’s a performance of confidence, and the premise is to allow the flower to be admired among the blooms in the garden. In courtship, the similarities were as to such a statement. In modern dating, however, Vyn found himself at a bit of a loss, unfortunately.

“So, have you both eloped?” Marius asked.

Rosa coughed and stared at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Isn’t hand holding a bit bold for you, Vyn? I thought you were rather boring,” Marius continued with a wave of his fingers in front of him.

Envy is a silly thing, even for a confident man. Vyn arched an eyebrow as his pleasant smile remained. “Marius, if I didn’t know any better, I would suggest you’re jealous.”

“Jealous?” Marius was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Of you? Or of her?”

Rosa gasped and poked Marius with her free hand. “Don’t be so snide. Just say what you need to say.”

“Okay, Rosa,” Marius nodded. “You both are likely the worst couple I’ve ever seen. He’s rigid and boring, and you’re too sweet to tell him otherwise.”

“Only those who have a deficit for those without the ability to retain conversation, Marius. It’s a shame you would speak so poorly of yourself,” Vyn responded.

Rosa covered her mouth. “Vyn.”

Marius laughed and shook his head. “Don’t worry, Miss Attorney. He’s not a morning person.”

Rosa revealed her smile as she peeled away her hand. “I wasn’t worried about it, Marius. I’ve debatably regretted represented you at times, but that’s all.”

Marius scrunched his nose and stopped. “Well, that’s such a horrible thing to say,” he sighed with a dramatic pout, and then he smiled and waved when looking in front of them. “Seems Artem and Luke are here. Excellent.”

What? Both Vyn and Rosa glanced at each other and then toward the pair waiting outside the restaurant. Von Hagen… Vyn bit into his cheek to press down a sour retort and melted into a masked appearance of mild indifference.

“Why? Why would you do this?” Rosa hissed toward Marius.

He grinned and tilted his head. “Well, I thought that since all of us work so closely together, it would be important to get this out of the way! Vyn understands the complexities of secrets among us, don’t you? Wasn’t it you who was upset at Neil for keeping a few to himself as well?”

Vyn traced his tongue along the ridges of the back of his teeth. “You’re absolutely correct, Marius.”

“Great, then let’s all have lunch,” Marius said as they closed the distance on the two men.

Artem’s eyes bounced between them, and his brow sunk at the vision of Vyn holding her hand. “Good afternoon,” he hummed.

Luke smiled and ran a hand over his hair. “Well, that was quick.”

“What do you mean by quick?” Artem asked as his frown grew.

“Lunch, everyone?” Marius beamed.

“Lunch sounds great,” Rosa sighed and released Vyn’s hand.

He likely would have been upset had it not been for the glowing smile and shrug she sent his way. The conversation was light as they walked into the restaurant, but the stares were not to be missed. Artem was scathing, and Luke seemed more than a little amused.

At least there was one out of the three that seemed adjusted. It was a start. By invitation, it did seem that Marius was still a competitor, despite some physical form of solidarity to their relationship. Vyn had to admit, his jab yesterday might have provoked this. However, the error margin was minuscule, and there was merit to open communication.

Just not yet. Not when there was still a twirl of newness to it. He wanted to keep it perfect and secluded for a bit longer.

As everyone sat down at the table, Rosa turned and gazed at Vyn. “So, how was practice today? You appeared in good form, and the weather was pleasant.”

“Yes, it was productive. A few of my teammates had improved their technique over the last two weeks, and it brought more enjoyment from the skirmish.”

Luke leaned forward and set down his menu. “Oh, yeah, you play polo too, right? That’s what your aunt alluded to, at least.”

“Yes, I do,” Vyn agreed.

Rosa caressed Vyn’s arm. Well, that wasn’t unusual for them. However, the context of her subconscious behavior was certainly a request for assistance. The anxiety wasn’t visible, but Vyn could sense it. “Yes, he’s actually quite stellar on the field. I don’t know as much about polo as I should, but I’ve seen his previous matches.”

“Do you have an interest in professional polo?” Artem questioned.

Marius chuckled and pointed at the pair. “I imagine Vyn dragged her along.”

Luckily the conversation wavered at the appearance of a waitress. She introduced herself and took their drink orders with ease. Vyn noted the familiarity immediately. However, it wasn’t until she reached him with her vision that she gasped.

“Oh, Professor Richter! I almost didn’t recognize you!” She giggled and shifted.

Not ideal. He rocked his head with a smile. “Good afternoon, Miss Higgens.”

“Are these your friends?” She questioned with her notepad and pen hanging in the air.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“I never imagined you out of your professional attire. A bit odd, I suppose. It’s quite unusual,” she explained and beamed.

“It’s not unusual to segregate collegiate life from social.”

This coiling conversation caused a bit of constriction. Vyn breathed and retained his neutral disposition as she chatted. He finally was about to give her his drink order, and she skirted off. Rosa glanced over, and relief tinted his emotions. She was smiling.

“It’s pretty remarkable that all of your students thoroughly enjoy your class,” she conveyed.

“Thank you, Rosa,” he said.

“That is quite shocking. Maybe they’re able to get into their extra hour of sleep,” Marius teased.

“As much as I don’t mind the free meal. What’s with the family lunch?” Luke questioned.

Marius laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “I just thought after their date last night. We wouldn’t mind getting clarity. I thought we all agreed that secrets were an issue in the past and shouldn’t be now.”

Artem straightened his tie and scowled at Rosa. “You went on a date... With Vyn?”

“The very!” Marius laughed.

Luke shrugged his shoulders. “Not surprising. They were close in Svart.”

“Wait, more happened after his little hand-holding when his father showed up?” Marius prodded as he gestured to Luke.

“She pretty much said this was going to happen when I arrived there. It’s not a shock,” Luke laughed, and his smile grew.

Rosa was pinching the bridge of her nose. “Can we not talk like I’m not here?”

“I would like clarity on the subject. I thought we agreed this was unsound for what we do,” Artem voiced.

Rosa peeled her hand from her face and scowled. “I was never a part of this conversation.”

“Of course you weren’t, Missy. You were the subject matter,” Marius chuckled.

Vyn inhaled and relaxed in his chair. “I never agreed to such terms, Artem. You suggested such, and nobody concurred. The fault lies with your concept of agreement. Silence isn’t agreement.”

“It’s not an objection either,” Artem voiced.

“Wait, just hold on a second,” Rosa groaned. “This actually was a topic when I wasn’t there?”

“No,” Vyn shook his head. “Artem had brought up his feelings in a rather indelicate manner. It wasn’t engaged in conversation.”

Artem’s jaw grew tight as he narrowed his eyes at Vyn. “Your argument in the matter isn’t valid, Vyn.”

“Are we really going to argue about this? So what if I’m seeing Vyn? Why is that even any of your business? Any of you,” Rosa huffed as she glowered at each of them.

Quite the declaration. Vyn let the tension in his chest subside. This was a rather large hurdle to jump, and in her finest form, Rosa was tackling it. He could easily have plucked at the situation for favorability, but it served little purpose if it wasn’t known that this was her choice.

“Rosa,” Artem sighed. “It’s vital that we,” he paused and scrunched his eyebrows. “Contort our business with possible private matters.”

“Artem, I’m an adult. I made this decision for my personal life. It has nothing to do with my working relationships with any of you. Mr. Von Hagen, as usual, had a hand in dragging my privacy through the mud.”

“I wouldn’t say through the mud, Missy,” Marius pouted. “It moreover is bringing developments to light, so we don’t have to be shocked later when you dump him,” he laughed and grinned.

“Wishful thinking?” Vyn asked.

Luke snorted and shook his head. “His aunt was practically begging him to get her a ring. You didn’t see it, Marius. It actually was quite entertaining. Also, I think Rosa didn’t mind him dueling for her honor either.”

“Luke,” Rosa snapped.

“Dueling?” Artem asked.

“Swords and everything. Real knightly stuff,” Luke chuckled.

Vyn held his tongue as the waitress came back and delivered their drinks. She stopped at Rosa and beamed. “I just love your necklace. That’s beautiful!”

“Oh, thank you, it was actually a gift,” Rosa smiled.

“From Professor Richter’s aunt,” Marius snickered.

The girl gasped, and her cheeks tinted. “Oh, well, that’s nice.”

Vyn smiled and rocked his head. “Yes, it was quite generous. Deservingly so. Thank you, Miss Higgens,” he said as she set down his glass.

Miss Higgens bounced her head a bit too erratically and took their lunch order. Well, it was an unfortunate mixture of work and social life, but it couldn’t be helped. Not with the grinning violet-eyed annoyance at the end of the table.

She disappeared, and Marius grinned. “Oh, how many broken hearts will suffer.”

“What do you mean?” Rosa asked.

Luke arched an eyebrow. “I don’t think Vyn will ever have to worry about jealousy, Watson. You’re pretty dense about this stuff,” he finished with a laugh.

Rosa gasped and turned to Vyn. “She was flirting with you?”

“No,” he huffed.

“I just thought she was nice,” Rosa frowned and touched her necklace.

“She was one step from flirting. No wonder you’ve never accepted my dinner dates, Rosa,” Marius teased.

“No, I didn’t accept them on purpose, Marius,” Rosa grumbled before reaching for her glass.

Artem was silently staring the pair down. It didn’t go unnoticed by Vyn. He had hoped for an average week for her after the events for the prior fortnight. However, the senior attorney was quite put out.

“Oh, I came across something today,” Luke said and set down an antique bauble.

The conversation shifted, and Rosa engaged him on the item, leaving the other three men to trade glances silently. Marius and Artem were frictional. The defeated often were. Vyn felt the calm of the tense afternoon subside when she caressed his arm while she spoke. That was enough for him. Whether they approved or not, she did.

#tears of themis #tears of themis fanfic #tot fanfic #tot #tears of themis vyn #vyn richter #tears of themis mc #tot fluff #tot angst #tot vyn #tot mc #tot romance #royal society

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a-dorin · 4 years

Text

ardor | darth maul

word count: 3.135k

warnings: age gap, cursing, professor/student relationship, sexual tension, mentions of sex, sexual innuendos

a/n: hello everyone! so this is the surprise i listed on my upcoming works list! i was just so excited to post this that i have been working on it constantly! this is a modern au involving professor!maul, set in coruscant. the reader is 21 in this fic. let me know if you want this to become a series or be added to the tag list! i hope you all enjoy :))

summary: as a junior enrolled at university of coruscant, you are striving to complete a minor in psychology. however, one class in particular intrigues you. will you be able to focus or let lust consume you?

pushing open the massive wooden doors, you grimaced at the vast amount of students already crammed in the seats. glancing at your phone, the time read 9:46 a.m. letting out a quiet sigh, you were fourteen minutes early and the lecture hall was almost to capacity. all of the seats on the edges were filled, and you grumbled under your breath. those damn freshman. always so early.

scanning the space, your eyes fell on an empty seat, near the front of the hall. strolling down the steps, you mumbled apologies as you shimmied into the empty seat, almost collapsing into the chair. rummaging in your bag, you fish out your laptop, powering it on.

once it’s whirred to life, you pull up your notes application, ensuring that you’re ready to take notes for the first lecture. the moment you were all set up, you ran a hand through your hair, noticing the togruta sitting to the right, as well as a mirialan to your left.

“w-was this seat reserved for someone?” you stammered, a blush spreading through your cheeks.

the togruta shook her head, “not at all! you see, that mirialan, she’s my best friend. we can’t sit by one another in class because we don’t pay attention. the seat is empty, we just wanted some space between each other.”

“oh okay,” you mumbled, relief rippling through you, “i wasn’t aware that everyone was going to be so early.”

“that’s freshman for ya,” the mirialan nudged you, giggling, “we just got here and the hall was practically full!”

“don’t scare our new friend off!” the togruta huffed, her bright blue eyes shining with amusement, “i’m ahsoka tano.”

ahsoka tano was a gorgeous creature, a descendant of the togruta species. her complexion was an orange hue, her head tails striped navy and white, with two montrals poking out. her face was wise, as if she had matured at a young age. the white markings on her forehead were breathtaking, trailing down onto her cheeks. ahsoka’s eyes were a bright, crystalline blue, shining with warmth and kindness.

you enjoyed that aspect about her already, as she was so friendly. she wore a plain navy blue tank top, which complemented her head tails, while donning a pair of grey joggers. her knee bounced, a fresh white pair of nike air maxes on her feet. you noticed the university logo stitched below a pocket, the curiosity within you rising by the second.

“do you play any sports?” you arched a brow, “i couldn’t help but notice the logo on your joggers.”

ahsoka’s eyes drifted towards the pocket, “oh yeah! i’m on the saber team.”

“you wield lightsabers?” a gasped tumbled from your lips, “that’s awesome!”

a blush spread through ahsoka’s cheeks, dusting them a light pink, “thank you, it took many years of practice and dedication. i was offered a full ride to come here, so i transferred here from theed university second semester my freshman year.”

“rumor has it that ahsoka’s undefeated,” the mirialan chirped, “good morning, i’m barriss offee.”

barriss was almost the opposite of ashoka, clad in a floral sundress, the pattern burstings with greens, yellows, and purples. it suited her light green complexion, along with her rich blue eyes. her eyes were darker than ahsoka’s, glimmering with intrigue as she gazed you. black diamonds stretched across the bridge of her nose, her lips coated with a black lipstick. tights covered her legs, a chunky pair of doc martens on her feet. a hijab wrapped around her head, the material an inky black silk. barriss was gorgeous, her aura radiating nothing but intelligence and compassion.

“well i’m (y/n) (y/l/n),” you couldn’t help but smile, “i’m a junior.”

you couldn’t help but feel an attraction towards the two girls, as if you were meant to find to them, to be their friends. already, the three of you were off to a great start. you were looking forward to spending the rest of class with them for the semester, even if you just met.

“what’s your major?” ahsoka inquired, “i’m a sophomore, looking to pursue an education major. i’m not quite sure what aspect of education, but i love kids.”

“that’s really cool!” you gushed, “how about you, barriss?”

“i’m a sophomore as well,” her tone was smooth, “i am looking to major somewhere in political science.”

“i’m going to major in health sciences,” you remarked, “but i plan on minoring in psych. i needed this class for a prerequisite for next semester. which is weird considering the course title, but i feel like it’ll be an interesting class.”

“i agree-” ahsoka began, but was cut off the sound of the door slamming.

the murmur of your fellow classmates fell as the professor entered the room, an aura of concentration settling over the lecture hall in a thick haze. you clicked on the mousepad of your laptop, ensuring that you were prepared for any note taking. absentmindedly, you typed in the date, as well as a title for the note section: first day of class.

“good morning class,” the professor rumbled, his voice clear as it rang through the space, “i am aware that this is a three hundred level course and we have a limited number of weeks to get through course material, but today there will be no lesson.”

“so much for opening my laptop,” you grumbled, earning a hushed giggle from ahsoka and barriss.

“today will be an overview of the syllabus, as well as some icebreakers,” the professor continued, a unanimous groan erupting from the class. the professor chuckled, “i know, we all hate standing up and stating five fun facts about ourselves. but, it helps me remember names. after all, there are about one hundred and fifty of you.”

your eyes drifted up from your laptop screen as you shut it, widening with shock as they fell on him.

your professor was a descent of the zabraki species, his ivory horns protruding from his skull. his face was absolutely gorgeous, jet black tattoos weaving an intricate pattern over his crimson skin. his jawline was strong, his incisors flashing as a wide smile enveloped his features. he was similar to barriss, an aura of wisdom and intelligence shrouding over him. if you had to guess, he was somewhat young, in his mid thirties or so. nonetheless, he had you in a daze, eagerly eating up every word that fell from his mouth.

the zabrak was clad in a black turtleneck, paired with a tweed jacket. the jacket was a beige hue, dark, chocolate brown slacks as his choice of pants. a thin silver chain hung around his neck, lying on his chest as he spoke. in the light, you caught a glimpse of a silver stud, pierced on the upper cartilage of his ear.

“gods, he’s hot,” you muttered, almost speechless.

“you can’t say that about our professor,” ahsoka teased under her breath, “he’s probably older than we think.”

“but he’s so attractive,” you breathed.

“we need to pay attention,” barriss hissed.

“shall i start with a brief introduction of myself, or should i begin with some review of the syllabus?” your professor placed his hands on hips, awaiting the class’ response.

“icebreakers!”

“i hate syllabus days!”

“the more time we take away from class, the better!”

the zabrak placed his hands out, chuckling, “all right, all right. the class has spoken. well, to start, i am professor maul. you can refer to me as professor or maul. my home resides in the psychology department, and i do find myself dabbling in philosophy or theology from time to time. i have two brothers. savage, the eldest is a geology professor here at university of coruscant, while feral, the youngest is a pastry chef deep in the city. perhaps if you guys are good, i can bring in his pastries sometime. if you have any questions for me, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

ahsoka’s hand shot up instantly, and professor maul nodded towards her, “yes, the togruta in the front.”

“how old are you sir?” her voice surged with confidence.

professor maul’s eyes narrowed playfully, “is that any question to ask a professor? since you were so bold, i will answer. i am thirty-one, nearing thirty-two by the second.”

“you’re old!” a voice called out.

“perhaps,” another chuckled tumbled from the professor’s lips, “i won’t hesitate to kick your ass in saber duel, though.”

“you were a saber wielder?” a classmate to below you, a twi’lek, blurted out.

“i was,” he responded curtly, “although i teach here, i am not an alumni. i attended mustafar central on a lightsaber scholarship many years ago. however, i didn’t go pro, i took the graduate school path. enough about me, let’s me hear about you guys. i would like your name, your intended major or career path, along with a brief fun fact about yourself. don’t think about it too hard, we don’t have too much time.”

with every word professor maul spoke, you found yourself hanging onto every single word. there was something about him, the way he spoke so eloquently, or the way his amber eyes glowed with authority, that sent butterflies flurrying in your stomach. he stood proud, his arms folded across his chest as your classmates introduced themselves. you swallowed thickly as you realized you were staring a little too long, a blush spreading through your cheeks as his eyes fell on you.

“it appears as if it’s your turn to introduce yourself,” his voice was so smooth, like honey, “how about you tell the class a little bit about yourself?”

you rose to your feet, anxiety swelling within you. clearing your throat, you began your spiel, “u-um, hello everyone. i am (y/n) (y/l/n). my major is health sciences, and i am unsure of the career path i want to take after i graduate. i guess a fun fact about myself is that i will be wrapping up my psychology major by the end of this year.”

intrigue flashed in the zabrak’s eyes momentarily, “ah, well, it is a pleasure to meet you, (y/n). never hesitate to reach out to me this year if you have any questions. who’s next?”

ahsoka stood from her chair beginning to speak. however, you couldn’t but notice his eyes on you, his lips pursed, a wistful daze painted across his face. you swallowed thickly, biting your lip, desperate to avoid his gaze. your cheeks burned, hot to the touch. gods, it was only the first day and you were already crushing your professor. a professor who was a decade older than you, nonetheless.

the class was an hour and twenty minutes long, the time eleven o’clock by the time everyone introduced each other. once the last person finished, professor maul strolled up to the rows of seating, a thick stack of papers in his grasp, “please, pass this around, and ensure that everyone gets a copy. this packet is your life for the next fifteen weeks! do not lose it!”

as the packets were passed around, the sound of paper rustling echoed through the lecture hall. drawing in a sigh, you mumbled a thank you to barriss as she handed you the syllabus. once it was in your hands, you scanned over the text, glancing over it hastily.

psych 315: monsters in modern society. the title of the course jumped out at you, a feeling of dread washing over you, threatening to steer your attention away from the syllabus.

how were you supposed to pay attention to lectures in class when you could barely keep your eyes off the professor?

****

“how was your first day of classes?” a familiar voice called into the den of your apartment.

“rex!” you gushed, sprinting into the den.

the blonde couldn’t help but grin as you wrapped your arms around him, “good evening to you too.”

“classes were boring,” you groaned, burying your head into his chest, “they’re not the same without my best friend.”

“my classes were just about the same,” rex chuckled softly, “what’d you make me for dinner?”

“there’s some spaghetti in the fridge,” you responded, still latched onto the blonde, “the garlic bread is in the oven, keeping warm.”

“perfect,” he placed a tender kiss on your forehead, “practice was horrible.”

you detached yourself from rex, arching a brow, “yeah?”

“i’ll tell you about it later,” he exhaled, “i need to cool off for a bit, shower, and eat.”

“if you say so,” you shrugged, “hey, i’m going to go to the gym for a while. i should be back by the time you’re working on homework.”

rex rolled his eyes, “if film counts as homework, sure.”

“just text me if you need anything,” you slung your gym bag over your shoulder.

“will do!” rex shouted as you opened the door, closing it.

rex was your best friend, a kind and pure soul. the two of you met your freshman year, during the first week orientation for all incoming newbies. since you were far from home, you were anxious, unsure if you were going to meet any new friends or establish connections. one night, while you ate alone in the dining hall, a platinum blonde approached you, asking if you had any company. from there, the rest was history.

the two of you were almost inseparable. since you had known rex for a couple years, it only made sense that the two of you shared an apartment your junior year. besides, your schedules didn’t clash too much, as rex was on an athletic scholarship with the university’s rugby team. meanwhile, you were involved with a few clubs here and there, preparing for an internship with the hospital on campus.

although you were in the pursuit of a health sciences major, you were unsure of which area you wanted to concentrate on. there were a variety options: dietitians, nutrition, nursing, radiology, athletic training, physical therapy, and so many more. however, you were set on graduating with a minor in psychology. which, you were on the right track. after your junior year, you would have that minor.

the internship with the hospital was to dip your feet into uncharted waters, where you would experience a little bit of everything. you would be a receptionist for a variety of departments, switching offices every month. the internship began within the week, and the excitement within you was growing by the day.

pushing open the doors to the recreational center, you chirped a greeting to the student employee at the desk, requesting a bottle of water. strolling towards the elevator, you pushed the button, aching to relieve the pent up stress.

it wasn’t like your first day of classes were horrible, you just knew you had a tumultuous year ahead of you. with eighteen credit hours, along with the internship, you were unsure how you were going to tackle it all. yet, you knew that you could manage it. you just had to trust yourself and go with the flow. everything happens for a reason was the mantra for the year.

as the doors slid open, you strolled towards the weight room, where all of the racks and machinery were located. since it was about nine o’clock, the rec center was shying closer to close, students making their way towards the elevator. you noticed ahsoka in the fieldhouse, practicing combat techniques with her team, the hum of lightsabers echoing off the walls.

however, as your hands rested on the handle of the door, your breath hitched in your throat. through the glass, you noticed a familiar face at the punching bags.

there stood professor maul, clobbering the bag with jabs and punches, his breathing ragged, coming out in light pants. curses rolled off his tongue, in a language you couldn’t quite decipher.

carefully, you slipped into the weight room, careful to avoid making any sort of interaction with the zabrak. after all, this was a facility meant for the students, faculty, and employees. it was for anyone’s use, but the fact that he was there, in the same space with you, had your heart thudding against your rib-cage, your mind buzzing.

sweat trickled down his skull, his back glittering in the light. with every single jab, his muscles rippled. scars plastered his shoulders and back, some deep, some faint. hesitantly, you clambered onto an elliptical, every fiber in your being screaming at you to look away. to stop staring. to stop admiring.

the zabrak paused, scooping his water bottle off the floor. as he chugged the water, you nearly choked as water dripped from his lips onto his neck, down his tattooed chest. not only was his face tattooed, but the ink was all over his beautiful body, weaving geometric patterns.

your cheeks reddened as you noticed the pair of black joggers hanging loosely on his hips, exposing his v-line. filthy, nasty, thoughts filled your mind, and you desperately shook them away. he was your professor. you weren’t supposed to see him like this.

“fancy seeing you here,” his voice was low, raspy, “isn’t it almost closing time?”

“i still have about an hour,” you mumbled, your cheeks burning, “i wasn’t aware that professors actually used this facility.”

“you’ve got some fire in you,” he chuckled, slipping on a plain black v-neck, “your name is (y/n), isn’t it? you’re in my level three hundred class.”

the sound of your name rolling off his tongue sent a shiver down your spine, “u-uh, yes. and you’re professor-”

“you can call me maul,” a smirk crept onto his lips, “no need for the formalities here.”

“okay,” you mumbled, flustered by his banter, “i didn’t know you were a boxer.”

his eyes flickered over you, maul licking his lips as you sat on the machine, your thighs full, “i am. it keeps me in shape. as much as i would love to stay and chat, my brother is finished with his work for the night. i have to go meet up with him.”

“you two carpool?” you felt a giggle bubble up.

“unfortunately,” maul scoffed, rolling his eyes, “i have been having some car issues lately. hopefully i’ll be able to drive myself soon.”

“well goodnight,” you beamed, “i hope that your night isn’t too horrid.”

“if i have to hear one more word about geology, i just might throw myself out the car,” maul chuckled, his eyes shining, “goodnight (y/n).”

“goodnight maul,” your voice was low, the words almost a whisper.

the zabrak strolled towards the door, pulling it open. however, he paused, turning to face you, amusement glittering in his amber depths, a playful grin stretched across his features.

“by the way (y/n), you could be a little more subtle about your wandering eyes.”

***********************

tagged: @sapphicstars , @maulieber , @starflyer-104 , @alwayshappysith , @doobiwankenooku

#darth maul #star wars #the clone wars #darth maul x reader #star wars x reader #modern au #darth maul smut #maul

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glimmerglanger · 4 years

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AUgust - Oh, Worm (p1)

Written for AUgust (Day 2: College). So, I saw that “College” was my prompt for the day and, uh, I may have recalled the “Oh,Worm” verse and anyway, here we are. Obikin, intro to sugar daddies. (Sugar Daddy 101?)

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

The thing was, Obi-Wan tried to take down the profile that he had - allegedly - made the night before as soon as he realized what had happened. He really had. He’d scrambled to pull his phone out from the time Bant asked him if he’d had any hits yet on his profile.

That had been before he’d even seen the photos on the app; he definitely hadn’t managed to take a picture of himself at that angle, no matter what Bant said, or how innocent she tried to look with her huge eyes.

He’d absently thrown something at her, whatever was within reach on the desk. It would later turn out to be his notes for a paper he’d been working on for nearly two months, but that was neither here nor there. She’d ignored the scattered paper and said, “Obi-Wan, wait, listen, did you even look to see if anyone swiped on you?”

“No one’s going to swipe on me,” he snapped back, glaring down at his phone screen and feeling his teeth click shut even as a blush spread up his cheeks.

“Well?” she asked, her tone soothing. “What’ve you got?”

Obi-Wan stared at his phone, feeling something like horror and something like shamed embarrassment making a home in his chest. “A date,” he said, carefully, “I suppose. Tonight. If I want it.”

The app that Bant had so kindly signed him up for was not a dating service, precisely. Or, rather, it was, Obi-Wan supposed. It was just a dating service that allowed for, well. The exchange of goods or services.

“I’m a biology professor,” Obi-Wan complained, later, as Bant was going through his closet. “I have my PhD. Now you want me to - to sell my body.”

“It’s more renting it,” Bant said, absently, ignoring Obi-Wan’s goran of misery and the thonk of his head against the wall. She poked her head out of the closet. “Oh, stop it. It’s not like that. You’re just going to offer some… companionship. It’s all perfectly above board. You don’t actually have to…” She made a complicated motion with her hands, which brought a flush of red to his ears.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Obi-Wan said, crossing his arms. He had an afternoon lecture in less than two hours. He couldn’t just keep standing in his room, trying to find clothing appropriate to…. What he was possibly going to do.

“You did last night,” Bant said. “You agreed with me. Come on, Obi-Wan. This may be the only way to get funding for your study on platyhelminthes.” Obi-Wan cast her a baleful look. The state of their department’s finances was a constant source of dread, one he didn’t particularly want to consider.

She only raised an eyebrow at him, her recently shaved head all pink from the sun she’d gotten as she pointed at him. “Now, come on, tell me some more about your sugar daddy.”

Obi-Wan groaned. “Please,” he said, “don’t call him that.”

Bant shrugged, turning back to his closet. “I’m just calling him what he is. What did you say his name was? Skywalker?”

Anakin Skywalker had… requested that Obi-Wan accompany him out to some kind of gala. According to some quick online snooping, Skywalker was some kind of extreme sports junkie; apparently he flew very fast planes and had made a name by designing a proprietary type of fuel injector and….

In all honesty, Obi-Wan barely remembered to change his car’s oil on time. He got lost in the technical jargon and set aside the computer. Apparently, the fuel injector had become very popular. Skywalker had made a small fortune off of it and then made that fortune bigger by redesigning some kind of flight controls.

All of that had led to some kind of awards dinner. One that, apparently, Skywalker had been unable to find a date to on his own.

And so he had, well, not quite hired Obi-Wan. Just… retained his services. With the understanding that, in return, Obi-Wan might get some sort of, well, financial compensation.

“What if someone in the department finds out?” Obi-Wan asked, sitting on the edge of his bed and staring at the floor. Bant had laid out clothes that she insisted brought out his eyes. Based on the pictures she’d posted, he rather doubted that Skywalker was interested in his eyes. They hadn’t really been the focus of her selected shots.

“That you went on a date?” Bant asked, absently twirling around in his little desk chair. Obi-Wan glared at her. “You’re allowed to do that. Tenure track doesn’t prevent dating.”

“No.” He scowled. “What if they find out I’m a… a… what did you call it?”

“A sugar baby,” she said, breezily, and he winced. She shrugged. “I don’t see why they would.”

“Wonderful,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Excellent. I’ll just get ready then, shall I?”

Obi-Wan still had nice evening wear. He’d not had much opportunity to wear it, but it fit well enough, after he put Bant’s less-than-helpful selections away. He tugged the sleeves straight, hoped that he wasn’t expected to dress in some other fashion - the messages he’d gotten from Skywalker had said it was a black-tie event - and did what he could with his hair.

And then he waited, having serious regrets about giving Skywalker his address. Skywalker had thought it important that they show up at the gala together, and Obi-Wan had been off his balance enough to agree, but, really, giving some man he met through an app his address had been…. Well.

Not one of his prouder moments. He sighed and adjusted his cufflinks. It had been, really, longer than he liked to think about since he’d been on a date. He was teaching more classes than he liked, and so many of them were full of freshmen - he didn’t remember some many people wanting to take Intro to Bio when he was going through school - and his current research was--

Someone knocked at his door. Probably Skywalker. He hoped it was Skywalker, if Quinlan had decided to stop by, the evening promised to get more awkward. He straightened his tie, blew out a breath, and headed for the door.

He opened it without hesitating, refusing to allow himself to pause. A tall man stood on the other side. It took Obi-Wan a moment to recognize Skywalker from his pictures online. He looked different with his hair combed back, wearing a suit instead of pilot’s gear. He was… stunningly attractive, moreso in person, somehow, than he’d looked in his pictures.

A hot tinge of worry, of knowledge that he was about to get in far, far over his head, spread through Obi-Wan’s gut.

Skywalker stared back at him, blinking rapidly and looking Obi-Wan up and down. Obi-Wan wondered, vaguely, if he was meeting expectations. A part of him - a quite large part, really - hoped that Skywalker would simply realize he’d made a mistake, turn around, and leave. Instead, he stared.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and said, “Well, hello. You must be, well. Do I call you Anakin?”

Skywalker looked up to meet his eyes, dragging his attention away from whatever had snagged it somewhere lower down. “Yes,” he said, and cleared his throat, flashing Obi-Wan a smile. “And you must be Obi-Wan. Ready?”

Obi-Wan considered. He could still, he supposed, say no and turn around, strip off his suit and go to review the results of his last round of testing on his specimens, but-- But he’d promised Bant he’d at least give the entire… arrangement a try.

The department, it seemed, needed him.

“Yes,” he said, pulling the door shut at his back and stepping forward. Skywalker really was a bold one, putting a hand on Obi-Wan’s back as they walked down the path to the driveway. Obi-Wan shivered down his spine and swallowed. He’d always enjoyed a fancy gala, anyway.

#AU_gust_2020 #obikin #my writing #college au #oh worm #the sugar daddy au i guess #day 2

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365days365movies · 3 years

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February 17, 2021: Desert Hearts (1985) (Part 1)

You may be asking...why not Blue is the Warmest Color?

And I know, I KNOW, I really really need to watch that one. But, honestly...I find Desert Hearts more intriguing, and you’ll have to hear me out on this one.

Desert Hearts is both SUPER goddamn slept on, and has one of the biggest increases of opinion in post-release critical reviews. It’s a part of the Criterion Collection, it’s on HBO Max, it’s considered one of the great romances (LGBT and otherwise) of all time, and it’s also, most importantly, THE FIRST major release lesbian movie ever released in the USA.

And also...I HAVE NEVER GODDAMN HEARD OF IT BEFORE.

And I 100% should’ve heard of this movie before, right? I mean, to be fair, when I was looking up KGBT movies to put on my list, I saw a HELL of a lot of prominent movies that I’d never heard of, including this one. But even then...nothing? I’d heard of Brokeback, CMbYN, Carol, BitWC. But this one? I’m interested, that’s for damn sure.

Oh, also...to be honest, BitWC is THREE HOURS LONG, and I only have so much time in the day today. SO, all of that said, shall we get into some Desert Hearts? Also, I love that name, I’m not gonna lie. Anyway, let’s bring more attention to this movie, huh? SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

By the way, before we start, you might be wondering my opinion on the Criterion Collection.

If you’ve never heard of the good old CC, it’s a company that remasters and distribute films considered to be “culturally important.” Now, granted, it’s not perfect (I genuinely think The Avengers or another similar film should be on there, but I think that’s actually a licensing issue), but the over 1,000 films on there create one complex filmography, I tell you what. And if you have HBO Max, a lot of them are on there. Here’s a list!

It’s got a hell of a collection, and while I don’t think it’s perfect, it’s definitely an interesting indicator of what’s considered important classics. But that said, here’s something CRAZY. This movie, and BitWC are both on there...Brokeback Mountain isn’t. WHAT THE FUCK, RIGHT? So, yeah, probably a little bit of bullshit there, too. Not as bad as the Oscars, though, so I’ll take it.

In the 1950s, a train pulls into a desert station in Reno, Nevada. Out of that train steps Vivian Bell (Helen Shaver), a professor coming from New York City. Recently divorced, she’s picked up by Frances Parker (Audra Lindley), who owns a ranch that Vivian will be staying on.

As they drive to the ranch, we meet her daughter, Cay Rivers (Patricia Charbonneau), a wild girl who’s driving backwards on the road, and is FAR better at it than I’d ever be, I’ll tell you that. As she leaves, Vivian professes that she’s feeling a need for privacy, as she’s never lived outside of a city, and this is a tough time for her in general. She settles in at the ranch.

Meanwhile, at a casino in town, Cay is working and spending time with her friend Silver (Andra Akers), who’s recently engaged and pregnant. A change attendant there, she’s been dating her boss Darrell (Dean Butler), although she doesn’t seem like a big fan of the idea. At home, she’s an aspiring sculptor.

We find out a bit more about Cay and Frances’ relationship, as she’s actually Frances’ stepdaughter, via her late husband Glen, her biological father. As she recounts her lamented past relationship (with the help of Jack Daniels), Vivian seems to comfort her a bit, and also relaxes.

The next day, we get to see that the ranch is apparently full of recent and aspiring divorcees, who are staying here to subsist through the whole process and get away from their former husbands. Walking into the middle of an uncomfortable conversation involving sex, Vivian quickly volunteers to deliver mail to Cay’s cabin.

Once there, another fact is confirmed for us: Cay is indeed a lesbian. And suddenly...I seeeeee. It’s a reverse Carol! Instead of the older self-affirmed lesbian in love with the naive young woman still learning about herself and her desires, we’ve got the young self-affirmed with older naivete. Iiiiiiiinteresting.

That seems somewhat confirmed through some longing glances from Cay towards Vivian. But that’s wiped away via a cross-face wipe, as Vivian’s offered a ride into town with Cay and her friend/lover Gwen (Gwen Welles), which definitely makes Vivian a bit uncomfortable. As a reminder, this is the 1950s, so her discomfort isn’t crazy.

In town, Vivian visits her divorce lawyer, and we find out that she’s...35? REALLY? Upon further inspection, the actress was actually YOUNGER, and I gotta say, the way her hair is and how she dresses...yeah, legit though she was in her 40s. That’s also based off of her VERY husky quiet voice. Just saying, it’s a surprise!

Meanwhile, at work, Darrell tells Cay how much he loves her, and Cay isn’t interested. But despite her OBVIOUS lack of interest, Darrell doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.

That night, both Cay and Vivian are getting a midnight snack, with Vivian being a teensy bit drunk, and considerably more lonely. As Cay offers her ear, Frances wakes up and asks Cay for a soda. While there, she reveals that the ranch is not doing well, and she may sell. She’s also quite devoted/dependent on her, and she’s, uh...FUUUUUUUCK, she’s not doin’ well.

The next morning, Vivian and Cay go out on a horse-riding trip, where they grow a little closer. On a later hangout with Silver, Cay confirms that she’s interested in Vivian romantically, and she’s formed an adorable schoolgirl-style crush on her. But the complication involved here is that Vivian will eventually leave, and Cay is basically stuck there, with her stepmother.

Frances and Vivian are watching a movie together that night, and Frances seems to be trying to dissuade Vivian from becoming too attached. However, that definitely doesn’t stop her, as the two spend more time together, and she even meets Silver. Darrell shows up to this little excursion, and is a diiiiiiiiiick.

That action may have had some...unintended consequences. Soon after, everybody’s eating breakfast at the ranch, when Vivian notes that she isn’t going to Silver’s engagement party, as she only has a week-and-a-half left there, and must prepare lectures (I feel that, goddamn). This makes Cay upset, and she wonders aloud if Darrell’s comments “put her off.”

THAT causes Frances to intervene, causing Cay to react angrily to her, causing her to leave, then causing Vivian to leave, and THEN causing Frances’ son Walter (Alex McArthur) to follow after to ask what’s wrong. Vivian notes as they walk together that Frances seems resentful about Cay’s friendship with Vivian. And Walter (a REALLY nice guy, by the way), admits that Frances wants Cay all to herself. The two of them also become friends by the end.

OK, good place to pause, since we’re at the halfway point. See you in Part 2!

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manage-mischief · 4 years

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Picture Prefect

Read on AO3 here.

Author’s Note: So, I’m not really sure I ship Dramione. At least, not in an endgame type of way. But, this idea came to me while rereading Harry Potter for the umpteenth time. I think there definitely could have been more to Draco’s character than was in the books/movies. I felt like it would be interesting to understand Hermione’s relationship to him, and that there was likely a bit of romantic tension/pining that may have been behind some of Draco’s actions/motivations. You know what they say about little boys and pulling girls’ pigtails on the schoolyard. Anyways, this takes place during OoTP, before Dumbledore leaves. This is also my first FF, so I’m still learning. I’ve just always thought about writing something but have been too nervous before now. Any kindfeedback or reviews would be appreciated. Thanks in advance :)

Disclaimer: I’m not J.K. Rowling. I own nothing.

Summary: Hermione goes on evening patrol with Draco Malfoy and things progress quite differently than expected. Secrets, lies, and broom cupboards may be involved.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we,” she sighed as she descended the stairs and laid eyes upon her patrol partner for the evening.

He gave a noncommittal grunt in return. Uncharacteristically pleasant this evening, she noted. Without a word, the pair set off past the Great Hall and got to work.

When Hermione had first discovered she was going to be a prefect for Gryffindor House last summer, she had been thrilled, but not surprised. She had top marks in all of her classes, and a (mostly) clean disciplinary record. Sure, she, Harry, and Ron had had a few run-ins with the wrong side of the law. Still, there was, at least in her humble opinion, no one more qualified for the job. When she found out that Ron would have the job alongside her, she had been that much happier. During the celebration held at Grimmauld Place, she had never felt prouder. Yes, she was an intelligent girl. Yes, she had even scored a date to the Yule Ball with internationally-renowned quidditch seeker Viktor Krum (and had especially enjoyed the look of jealousy and disbelief on Pansy Parkinson’s face, she might add), but this accomplishment somehow carried more weight for her.

Being muggle-born, she knew that there were some who viewed her as unworthy of Hogwarts. Some would even go to unspeakable lengths to try and force her out of the wizarding world—as she had learned the hard way during her bout of paralysis-via-basilisk during her second year. But, here she was: the top of her class, muggle-born prefect. The prefect title meant something. Anyone in her world could understand the accomplishment, and no one could deny her the honor that the title bestowed.

Ok, maybe she was a bit over-enthusiastic about the role. It did seem that, most of the time, she was nothing more than a glorified hall-monitor. Yet, she wore her badge with honor. And, as she and Ron strode towards the Prefects Compartment on the Hogwarts Express on her first day she felt that nothing could have lowered her spirits. That is, however, until she saw him. Her new colleague, leaning against a table with his usual, haughty, I’m-better-than-you-because-I’m-pureblood air, his blond hair standing out in stark contrast with his dark robes with emerald green accents. Draco Malfoy.

And so, this is how she ended up on evening patrol on this otherwise wonderful night with a boy who was, in her opinion, one of the rottenest snakes to ever roam the halls of Hogwarts.

The first time she had met Draco had been on the Hogwarts Express during her first year. Bright-eyed and bushy-haired as ever, Hermione had hugged her parents goodbye and wandered onto the magical locomotive, anxious yet elated. She had been thrown into the magical world so fast. One minute, she had been running from bullies in the park by her house as they called her a freak. The next, she was meeting with a stern-but-kindly witch who explained to her that she was talented and special. Hermione was determined to learn as much as she could about her knew world as fast as she could, so she would be able to prove herself at school. Once she set her mind on something, nothing could stop her.

Armed with countless wizarding books and a new bank of knowledge, she confidently strutted into a train compartment and took a seat. She cheerfully introduced herself to the three other young wizards already occupying the space. The others followed suit. Two large, intimidating boys introduced themselves as Crabbe and Goyle. She was pretty sure those were last names, but had a feeling that prying for more information would be futile, seeing as they had both grunted out one-word answers to her questions and then looked away. They did not seem very bright. The third boy had brilliant blond hair and smiled in a way that made her blush slightly in spite of herself. “I’m Draco. Draco Malfoy. It’s a pleasure,” he replied with a cheeky grin.

Draco had been overly friendly to respond, and all too eager to converse with Hermione. They asked each other about their wands, their favorite shops in Diagon Alley, and the classes they were most excited to take. “I can’t wait for Transfiguration. I know it’s one of the more difficult branches of magic, but it seems quite fascinating,” Hermione blabbered on cheerfully. She had been very proud of herself for holding her own during this conversation. Her reading and preparation had paid off! Draco seemed to have no idea she hadn’t grown up in a wizarding household.

He smiled at her. “Well, I hope we’re sorted into the same house. It’ll be a shame if I can’t spend any more time with you in the future.” Hermione again blushed. She kind of liked Draco’s cockiness and confidence. “So,” he continued, “where d’you want to be sorted? I know where I’ll be…Slytherin. My family has been in Slytherin for generations,” he remarked, haughtily.

“Oh, I’m not sure I have a strong preference. Although, Gryffindor seems like it would be a good fit. Or Ravenclaw. I guess we’ll see,” Hermione said.

“Where were your parents when they were here?” Draco asked, eagerly.

“Oh…well…they didn’t go to Hogwarts,” Hermione replied. She didn’t know why she didn’t reveal that her parents were Muggles. She wasn’t the least bit ashamed. But, something about the boy’s mention of his Slytherin family heritage made her wary. Hadn’t she read somewhere that Slytherins were obsessed with blood purity? Surely that was ancient history. It couldn’t mean this boy believed that only pureblood witches and wizards were worthy of magical education, right? After all, with such a small portion of the population having magical blood, there must be hardly any purebloods left!

“Oh, so they went somewhere else? Ilvermorny? Durmstrang? My father wanted to send me there, says Hogwarts’ Headmaster is an old crackpot…”

“No, no. They didn’t go to any magical school. They’re muggles,” Hermione interrupted. Immediately, the tone of the conversation took a sharp turn. Crabbe and Goyle both stared at her as if she had grown an extra head. Draco sat up straighter in his seat, and where before there had been a playful look in his eyes, there was now only wide-eyed fear and accusing. “So, tell me, what makes you think you’re worthy to be here, talking about magic to me and my new friends, when your parents are so backward they probably can’t even tell a wand from a stick in the mud?” Draco sneered at her. His two cronies sniggered. Hermione knew she was not welcome anymore. She shot out of her seat, determined not to cry, and stormed out of the compartment. She could hear Draco’s voice in the distance as she quickly scampered away, fuming. “Well, boys, glad we got rid of her, eh?”

Of course, leaving that compartment was the for the best. She had met Neville and, not long after, her future best friends, Harry and Ron. Luckily, not all wizards were as closed-minded as Malfoy had been. She had not let him get to her, and since then, had outperformed him in every class. Still, she always found it strange to reflect back on the one pleasant conversation she had had with him and relate that cute, smiling boy to the absolute toe-rag she knew today.

Speaking of today, it was getting late, and Hermione was becoming fed up, fast. Her and Malfoy had only been patrolling for half-an-hour, yet it felt as if it had been an eternity. They walked in silence, keeping at least a foot’s distance in between them at all times. The corridor was silent. It was shaping up to be a long, dreadfully boring night.

They reached the first-floor bathrooms around 11 o’clock. “I’ll check the girls and you check the boys,” Hermione broke the silence. Malfoy rolled his eyes and sarcastically replied, “no really Granger? What an ingenious idea.” She simply shook her head and went to check for students out of bed. The bathroom was empty.

“Nothing in there.” She saw Malfoy emerge from the boys’ loo across the hall. “Same here.” On they went.

Half of their shift had now passed, and all they had seen was a sleepwalking Ravenclaw first-year, who Hermione had gently guided back to bed. They were passing by the statue of George the Smarmy when suddenly, she heard footsteps. She paused and cocked her head.

“C’mon Granger,” Malfoy sighed. “It’s probably Filtch and Mrs. Norris.”

“Hush!” Hermione hissed. It most certainly was not Filtch. The footsteps clicked, making it clear their owner was wearing high heels. They were approaching fast. She couldn’t ignore her gut feeling that something was amiss. But, what was it? Why did the footsteps sound so familiar to her? “Have you lost your marbles? Let’s go! It’s a professor or someone! Nothing we have to worry about!”

Aha. It was a professor. Of course. That’s why Hermione recognized the footsteps immediately. She could hear in them the haughty sense of purpose that made her loathe Defense Against the Darks Arts classes daily. Umbridge. Just as she could hear the toad-like professor approach their corridor, another pair of footsteps sounded in the distance. Umbridge must have been meeting someone. But who, at this hour?

She didn’t know why she did it. Perhaps it was because she was on edge from all of the secrecy surrounding the DA. Perhaps it was because of the wrenching feeling in her gut that Umbridge was up to more than she let on here at Hogwarts. But, no matter the reason, before she knew it, she was grabbing Malfoy by the front of his robes and pulling him into the nearest broom closet.

“What the bloody hell, Granger?!?” he hissed indignantly. At least he had the sense not to shout. Otherwise, their cover would have been blown. “What’re you playing at?”

“Be quiet,” she shushed him promptly. Quickly, she pulled out the pair of extendable ears she kept hidden in her pockets. As much as she hated to admit it, Fred and George had really hit the mark with their creation. She always kept a pair with her, and had found them to come in handy on many occasions. As she fiddled with the device, Malfoy continued to look at her, wide-eyed. “What the hell are those?!”

“Extendable ears, now, HUSH!” Hermione said matter-of-factly. “Extendable what?” “Ears. They let you listen in on other peoples’ conversations without getting caught. Now please kindly shut up so I can hear what’s going on!”

“…in this time of night. I wanted to do this privately. Most students use this corridor to snog without getting caught, so I thought it would do the trick.”

Umbridge’s girly voice echoed. Malfoy was still staring at her with a look of pure confusion.

A private meeting. But with who?

“Of course, Dolores. Do you have any updates?”

The second voice belonged to a man. She knew she had heard it before. But…it couldn’t be…

“Oh my god,” Malfoy whispered, now seemingly as invested in the conversation as Hermione had been. “What’s Fudge doing here?”

Hermione’s eyes widened. Fudge. The Minister of Magic. She was sure glad she had had the sense to hide in the cupboard, even if she was a little too close to Malfoy for comfort. She couldn’t have had him running away and blowing her cover.

The pair of them remained quiet, now both eager to hear what was going on.

“Well, Cornelius. I’m afraid matters at Hogwarts are far worse than we feared.”

“How so?”

“Well first of all, there’s the Potter boy. He and his little friends seem determined to undermine my authority at every turn! He has no respect for the Ministry. Always going on about You-Know-Who despite my countless warnings and punishments!”

There was heavy silence for a moment before Fudge spoke again.

“And do the other students believe him?”

“Some do. Others think he’s gone mad. Most don’t know what to think, and it has been hard for me to convince them to take our side, despite our efforts to disparage him in the Prophet.”

“Surely these students have more sense than to believe the word of a 15-year-old boy over the Ministry and the Prophet! Why are we having such difficulty keeping this under control? I thought I could trust you to handle this, Dolores.��

“I…I am doing all that can be done! But that’s the thing. It isn’t just Potter who has been proclaiming the story that You-Know-Who has returned. It’s Dumbledore, as well. It is not so easy to discredit the Headmaster in the Prophet. He is too well known and well respected. Students love him. Which is why I am proposing that we focus our efforts on a new plan.”

“Yes?”

“Removing Dumbledore from this school, and making me Headmistress.”

“That is quite easier said than done, Dolores. You said it yourself, Dumbledore has the respect of the student body, as well as most of the parents, I might add. Implicating him in illicit activity to remove him from Hogwarts will be extremely difficult.”

“We almost got Potter, this summer.”

“Yes, and the fact that those Dementors even showed up in Little Whinging was a happy accident! How can we expect something like that to happen again? And at Hogwarts, no less?”

“Yes…a happy accident…well. I shall keep my eyes open for any ‘accidents’ that will allow us to relieve Albus from his post. In the meantime, you’d best be heading back to London. It is getting late. But I promise you this, Cornelius. Come hell or high water, I shall make sure Albus Dumbledore never sets foot in this school again. You can count on me.”

“We’ll see, Dolores. Have a good evening.”

Their footsteps echoed down the halls and disappeared into the night.

“I can’t believe it,” Hermione exclaimed. “That conniving little…”

“Blimey Granger. I thought you were intelligent!” Malfoy rolled his eyes. She glared daggers at him, daring him to continue insulting her. He sighed, “Of course the Ministry’s trying to oust Dumbledore! Fudge is scared of him. He thinks Dumbledore’s going to take his job.”

Hermione was taken aback at his words. She had known this information, of course, thanks to her months of living with the Order. Still, she was surprised that Malfoy knew this information, and that he had been so willing to admit it. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Draco couldn’t have come across this information by himself. What was his shifty father telling him?

“Like you even care,” Hermione tersely responded. “You and your father have been trying to get rid of Dumbledore since the day you arrived here! And probably before! You’d just love old Umbridge to become Headmistress and become her little pet.” Ok. Tirade over. Yelling at Malfoy, while satisfying, wasn’t going to do her any good. Hermione knew they should be continuing their patrol. Plus, she wanted to return to the Common Room and fill Harry and Ron in on the evening’s events. Hopefully they’d still be awake…

“You always think you know me, but you don’t.”

“Excuse me?” Hermione whipped her head towards him just before she was about to exit their cramped hiding spot. Had she heard correctly?

Malfoy gave a sad sort of grunt. He hesitated for a moment, as if considering whether or not he should continue. Hermione continued staring at him intently. She was mystified.

“You and your little Potter Protection Squad. You all always think you know me, know my story, know my life. ‘Oh, Malfoy hates everything good. He’s always out to ruin things for us. He’s a jerk. He’s the enemy. He’s evil,’” he mimicked her in a high-pitched voice. Hermione couldn’t speak, still baffled. He continued.

“For your information, I detest Umbridge just as much as you do. I just know how to be subtle about it. And I know my place. I know what happens to me if I don’t get on her good side. You wouldn’t understand. You’re from a muggle family.”

“You know what, Malfoy? I am absolutely sick and tired of you bringing up my parentage. I have as much of a right to be here as you! And I understand plenty, thank you very much! I am top of our class and work hard to prove myself to intolerant people like you and your family every single day! Don’t you forget you were impressed by me when we met on the Hogwarts Express first year! Impressed by more than just my knowledge of the wizarding world, I might add!” She spit back, her breath labored from the force of her outburst. She could feel her cheeks flushing. It had been an unspoken agreement between them to never mention their first encounter. She could see his face tint red as well.

He stared at her for a moment. Then, without warning, grabbed her by both of her arms and turned her so they were face to face, which was quite cramped due to their inopportune hiding place. His gesture was not threatening, however. He looked sad.

“You don’t understand. I…I sometimes envy that you’re from…well…your background.” He huffed. “I mean being a Malfoy is an honor. People envy me.” His voiced switched back to the shaky timbre it had been. “But…there’s certain…expectations. My family is one of the greatest pureblood lines in wizard history. Malfoy and Black. We have a reputation to uphold. My father reminds me of that every chance he gets.” His face darkened. “I have to hate Dumbledore. I have to be friends with people like Crabbe and Goyle. I have to suck up to Umbridge and support her for headmistress. You don’t understand what happens if I don’t.”

Hermione continued to stare at him. She blinked, trying to understand why and how Draco was capable of showing such vulnerability with her. He searched her face, almost desperately, for a reaction. Hermione softened her face. Perhaps there was more to him than she thought. Maybe he just needed someone to listen. When he realized her receptiveness, he spoke once again.

“Everyone in my family expects me to be like my father. Become a…” he stopped himself. But she knew what he would have said. “Well, become like him,” he carefully worded. “No one has ever asked me what I want to do. And I can’t tell them. I can’t tell my family to shove it…that I don’t want to be part of their circle! That I’m terrified of what’s coming and of what I’ll have to do!” Draco’s voice broke. Hermione remained silent, entranced. Without thinking, she took his hand gently. They both looked down at their hands, now touching. When he spoke again, he refused to meet her gaze.

“My parents were part of an arranged marriage. Even their lives weren’t their own. Everything…every bloody thing that’s ever happened in my life and before has been about blood purity. About money, and power, and respect. They expect me to uphold that tradition. I’ll marry a pureblood girl. I can’t object. I’ll be disowned. Banished. Burned off of the family tree for even thinking about, as they call it, ‘tainting the bloodline.’” He sighed once more. He finally brought his eyes back to meet hers. His stare was intense and a bit frantic. Hermione felt her heart pounding in her chest and her cheeks growing hot. Who was this boy, and what had he done with the tosser Draco Malfoy? At least she knew how to deal with him when he was being a jerk. But this? This vulnerable Draco standing before her? Her brain could not figure him out.

His voiced softened further. “I’m sorry I’ve called you names. I know you probably won’t believe me, but I truly am.” And then, it rose once more, “But don’t you understand? I have to act this way! You terrify me, Hermione. And…that just…can’t happen. I…I don’t have a choice.”

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The pressure in her chest was too much to bear.

“Draco. Everyone has a choice,” she whispered, softly, her eyes still locked on his.

He swallowed. Then, he leaned forward, slowly. She could feel her own body move towards his in response. Her heart pounded and her mind went blank as she felt his strong arms wrapping around her and pulling her into a kiss. She pressed into him, her body moving with his in a passionate dance. He ran his hands through her hair. She could feel her pulse rising, heat surging through her body. The pair continued hungrily for a few more moments. Then, as if on a timer, they both regained composure and pulled back from each other, panting. Hermione smoothed out her hair. Draco fussed with his now-disheveled robes. They regarded each other once again, neither sure what to say to the other.

Hermione blinked in a vain attempt to regain focus. She couldn’t deny that had been the most passionate kiss she’d ever received, including those from Viktor—who had more than once professed his love for her. But, she thought to herself, that will never excuse his behavior. He had humiliated and degraded her, time and time again. The names he had called her were almost unforgivable. Had he changed? She couldn’t be sure. But, one late-night encounter in a broom closet was far from enough proof for Hermione. After a few moments of silence, she realized he was waiting for her to speak. To say something about what just happened. Her mind was still racing too fast to latch onto a single thought.

“I’m sorry about your family Draco. That sounds very hard.”

Oh, if she could have kicked herself in the moment! Sorry about your family?!? That sounds hard?!? She felt like a proper wanker! What an idiotic response to what had just happened!

“I wish things were different,” he replied. This shocked her.

“Are you saying you want to be with me?” She inquired.

“I’m not sure,” he answered, almost inaudibly, sheepishly running his hands through his hair.

“Draco,” she sighed. This was all too much information for Hermione to handle. “I’m not sure, either. Thank you for apologizing for calling me those awful names…but…I’m not sure that’s enough. You just said it yourself. Your family life is complicated. I’m sorry. If you ever want to change, to escape, I will be here for you. And, I may even want…this…too. But, I won’t be the girl who you degrade in public and then snog in a broom closet when no one is watching. I don’t deserve that.”

Draco simply stared back at her for a long time. She could tell he was thinking. Would he really say he wanted her? Would he really change? Would she really want to be with him, even if he did? Ugh, Harry always said girls were confusing, but she was beginning to think that boys that were really the ones who were bonkers!

Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke once again, “I’m sorry. I just…” he shook his head. He glanced towards the door. “We had better finish patrol and then head to our dorms.” Under his breath, Hermione heard him mutter, “I have a lot to think about.”

Unable to form any intelligible words, she just nodded her head. The pair emerged from their cupboard and set off back down the corridor, as silent as before. When they finally parted for their respective common rooms, they met each other’s gaze once again. Draco smiled softly, “Goodnight, Hermione.”

She gave a tentative smile in return. “Goodnight, Draco.”

As she entered the Gryffindor Common Room, she was deep in thought.

“Oi, Hermione! You’re back late,” Ron shouted to her from the table in the corner, on which Harry and him had stacked piles of books and essays. In the back of her mind, she mentally rolled her eyes. Of course, they hadn’t finished their homework.

“Was patrol with Malfoy as awful as we thought?” She gave a noncommittal sigh which Harry took for annoyance. “That bad, huh? What a git,” he shook his head. He and Ron then launched into a conversation about how much they hated Draco Malfoy. Hermione did not listen. She was still deep in thought, her thoughts swimming as if she were looking at them from the surface of a pensive: slippery and liquid and not quite fully formed.

“You alright, Hermione?” Ron asked, snapping her back to reality.

“Fine,” she answered half-heartedly. “Just dead tired. I think I’m going to head to bed.”

She climbed the stairs to the 5th year girls’ dormitory, and told herself she would tell the boys about Umbridge’s conversation in the morning. Right now, she was too preoccupied with thoughts of a certain Slytherin prefect to think about anything else. As she crawled into bed and closed the curtains of her four-poster, she found herself clinging to a small bit of naive hope. It did seem like Draco was serious when he kissed her. Maybe, just maybe, people could change for the better, even people as entrenched in the pureblood movement as Draco Malfoy.

She should have known it was silly to hope for such things.

#harry potter #hp fanfic #hp #dramione #draco x hermione #draco malfoy #hermione #hermione granger #being prefects #order of the phoenix #hp ootp #ootp #can pretty much be inserted into canon without changing much of anything #please be niceeee #my writing

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sunshinexlollipops · 4 years

Note

ooh do you have time to share some headcanons for an acw modern au where arthur is an art professor and wolf is a new professor and they catch each other’s eye ...

Uh, YES I DO ANON.

OKay so I did start typing this earlier and my phone geeked and crashed tumblr so LETS TRY AND DO THIS AGAIN SHALL WE?

Arthur, as mentioned in the ask, is a popular art professor. Not only is he good at his job, he is known as the heartthrob of the school.

Most online reviews of his course not only compliment his class, but also his ass. And everything else ofc.

One review used the golden ratio about the proportions of his shoulders and hips and since then the staff jokingly calls Arthur “Ponyboy.”

One day, during a staff meeting, Dutch, the dean of the school, informs Arthur and his coworkers that they are getting a new Animal Sciences teacher.

Apart from needing space, the best open location for this new teacher is in the building beside Arthur.

It’s spacious, and Arthur asks why this new professor needs so much space (as he takes up a lot with kilns and other things like drying racks or weaving stations.)

Turns out this new professor has some animals that she is bringing, and so she needs the space for the pets she is bringing into her classroom. Which— oh. Okay.

Arthur doesn’t think anything more of it until the day the animal sciences teacher arrives.

He’s outside, having his class throw paint at canvases to create abstract outlines by using stencils to cover up areas. It’s messy.

Arthur is covered in paint, his denim jeans and shirt splattered all over, and because of the heat, he has some of his shirt’s top buttons undone on his chest, as well as his sleeves rolled up.

(One girl almost faints. Arthur fears heatstroke but in reality it’s Arthur who is too hot.)

Still, he’s in the process of throwing a balloon for a student with an arm cast when Wolf arrives.

Students notice her and they immediately go: wtf are all of our professors gonna be fucking hot or????

He doesn’t see her at first, but he notices that a woman dressed in blouse and fancy dress pants is looking at him.

She’s beautiful. So much so that Arthur drops a balloon without throwing it and gets even more paint all over himself.

The woman chuckles at him and says, “So is this the art course I keep hearing so much about?”

And Arthur be like:

Wolf goes to shake his hand, uncaring for the paint on his palm as she touches him, introducing herself.

She then points to her building and says, “I’m the new Animal Science teacher, the one taking over the neighboring building?”

And Arthur is just like oh yes right right, Dutch mentioned this.

He’s very awkward, flushed and stuttering and rubbing at his neck. But Wolf doesn’t react or judge his nerves.

She smiles at him and tells him “well, I’m getting a look at the place, and I’m moving most of the stuff in tomorrow...” and she pauses, looking Arthur over, “And you know, I think you’d be perfect for helping me, if you could.”

And Arthur’s thirst now be like:

Ofc he agrees to assist Wolf with her move, and she bids him goodbye.

While some are jealous, the students notice Arthur’s reaction and they are IMMEDIATELY invested.

Arthur tries to ignore them, but he can’t get helping Wolf out of his head.

The following day Arthur doesn’t exactly have classes. In fact, it’s supposed to be his day off, but your word is your word and it really isn’t a bad incentive to have someone like Wolf being the one you owe it to.

Still, when he shows up in a worn Johnny Cash shirt and jeans, Wolf is happy to see him.

She’s dressed in sweats and a v-neck and OOF she looks like art in anything.

“Oh thank god you’re here,” she says, “I have a ton of tanks to set up and I need the extra arms.”

“Tanks?” Arthur questions.

“Yes. I have a few animals that I brought here for my class. I have u-haul behind the building— I would be grateful if you helped me unload!”

Arthur, internally: there is another load I could give you but alas I am gentleman first and awkward man second.

Nevertheless, Arthur helps Wolf get her items. He see some vivariums and other enclosures, and he scowls at her supplies, not recognizing any of it for what it is.

“Uh, what’s all this stuff for?” he slides one tank that’s taller than it is wide onto a counter, and he looks inside, taking in the sight of the bromeliads and moss, “You grow plants?”

“That’s my crested gecko’s enclosure!” Wolf chirps, and to Arthur’s surprise, he finds Wolf coming close to him, their shoulders brushing as she unlocked her phone, showing the art professor her lock screen of some lizard, “This is her! This is D’or!”

“D-D’or?” Arthur fucking BUTCHERS the name and almost slaps himself in the face.

Wolf chuckles, “It’s French for golden. She was my first reptile, and she’s the reason I went into animal science as a profession.”

Arthur blinks, “... first reptile?”

“I own others. Another crestie, a leopard gecko, a beardie, a ball python—“

“A python???”

Wolf laughs, “scared of snakes?”

“N-No, just... ain’t big, is it?”

“No. It’s a boy, so he’s smaller. Just a regular too, nothing fancy. Didn’t want to risk getting a morph and end up with something akin to the spider wobble.”

Blinking, Arthur hums, “I’m gonna pretend I just understood what you said...”

“You’re cute,” Wolf tells him, and Arthur??

He be like:

“Come on, there’s a few more things to grab,” Wolf ushers them to the door, and Arthur just follows after her.

While offloading a few more tanks, Wolf makes small talk. She asks about Arthur and his course, and she seems interested.

“I took IB art in high school,” she mentions casually, “Just didn’t pursue anything with it.”

“Really?” Arthur asks, shocked.

“Yeah, animals are more of my thing... but you seem to really love it.”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I do...”

Arthur gets to tell Wolf about what his kids are currently studying— from watercolor techniques to pottery glazes and masking making in Africa.

Wolf seems genuinely interested as they finish emptying her u-haul, and as she closed the tailgate, she smiles at him.

“You know, I need to check your building out. See what you have going on over there. Sounds so cool!”

Arthur blushes, “Y-Yeah... I need to learn more about what you do. Not just for the sake of offerin’ up better conversation, just that... seems cool too.”

Wolf beams at him, “Well, you’re welcome any time... But, I couldn’t have gotten my room set up today without you. You’re a life saver!”

Arthur smirks, ducking his head, “I dunno ‘bout that...”

“Well, I owe you,” Wolf tilts her head at him, smiling ruefully, “What do you say about having dinner together?”

Arthur blinks. Dinner?

We hydratin’ now bitches—

“Oh... I’d... I’d love that.”

“Me too,” Wolf hums, “Do you have any classes later today?”

Shaking his head, Arthur replies, “No. it’s my off day.”

Lightly striking his bicep, Wolf gapes, “Arthur Morgan! Don’t tell me you came on your off day to help me out!”

“Well, when a pretty woman asks you for your help, you don’t say no.”

Wolf smiles with some heat his way, and she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Well, guess I owe you something more than just a dinner.”

Feeling brave, Arthur comes a step closer, “And what would that be, miss? Got another idea of a meal for me?”

“You ass!” Wolf playfully hits his bicep again, but they both laugh.

However... she doesn’t deny it.

“Well, since you’ve been so kind to me today, where would you like to go?”

Smiling, Arthur replies: “With you on my arm, sweetheart? Really don’t matter to me.”

They have dinner and maybe SOME OTHER THINGS and it quickly becomes known that the art and animal science professor have a thing.

Wolf heard about the Ponyboy nickname but Arthur cannot fess up to why it’s a thing. Karen, the business professor, tells her and Wolf can’t stop laughing.

At one point, Arthur uses D’or for a live reference in an art project.

Wolf also catches a wild corn snake that was enjoying the warmth of his kiln in his art room and helped to properly relocate it. (Arthur did not scream, he yelled, okay?)

Arthur may or may not have sketched Wolf a couple of times. (He has. They’re in his sketchbook at home.)

Wolf may or may not have gotten him the new set of paintbrushes he uses during lessons. (She totally did. He didn’t want to spend any of the class’ budget on himself.)

Either way, they’re a package deal, and everyone ships that shit like UPS baby. ;)

#luffy asks #acw #amidst a clash of worlds #acw headcanons #acw ask #wolf acw #arthur acw

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tindez · 4 years

Link

In the end, the evidence was inescapable. “The president did in fact pressure a foreign government to corrupt our election process,” Romney said. “And really, corrupting an election process in a democratic republic is about as abusive and egregious an act against the Constitution—and one's oath—that I can imagine. It's what autocrats do.” [...] I found Romney filled with what seemed like righteous indignation about the president’s misconduct—quoting hymns and scripture, expressing dismay at his party, and bracing for the political backlash. [...] “I get that a lot—‘Be with the president,’” Romney told me, sounding slightly perplexed. “And I’ll say, ‘Regardless of his point of view? Regardless of the issue?’ And they say yes. And … it’s like, ‘Well, no, I can’t do that.’”

While I disagree with Mitt Romney on many things, I find it heartening to see a Republican who definitely thought this through and stuck to his convictions. Country over party! Kudos to him and to Utah.

So, I’m sharing this with y’all. Stay optimistic! Sometimes those we disagree with can still get work done alongside us.

(full article under the cut for those without access to The Atlantic)

POLITICS How Mitt Romney Decided Trump Is Guilty Comparing the president’s behavior to that of an autocrat, the Republican senator explains to The Atlantic why he’s voting to convict him. MCKAY COPPINS 2:03 PM ET Mitt Romney didn’t want to go through with it. “This has been the most difficult decision I have ever had to make in my life,” he told me yesterday afternoon in his Senate office. Roughly 24 hours later, Romney would deliver a speech announcing that he was voting to convict President Donald Trump on the first article of impeachment—abuse of power. For weeks, the senator from Utah had sat silently in the impeachment trial alongside his 99 colleagues, reviewing the evidence at night and praying for guidance. The gravity of the moment weighed on him, as did the pressure from members of his own party to acquit their leader. As his conscience tugged at him, he said, the exercise took on a spiritual dimension. Romney, a devout member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, described to me the power of taking an oath before God: “It’s something which I take very seriously.” Throughout the trial, he said, he was guided by his father’s favorite verse of Mormon scripture: Search diligently, pray always, and be believing, and all things shall work together for your good. “I have gone through a process of very thorough analysis and searching, and I have prayed through this process,” he told me. “But I don’t pretend that God told me what to do.” In the end, the evidence was inescapable. “The president did in fact pressure a foreign government to corrupt our election process,” Romney said. “And really, corrupting an election process in a democratic republic is about as abusive and egregious an act against the Constitution—and one's oath—that I can imagine. It's what autocrats do.” According to Romney’s interpretation of Alexander Hamilton’s treatise on impeachment in “Federalist No. 65”—which he says he’s read “multiple, multiple times”—Trump’s attempts to enlist the Ukrainian president in interfering with the 2020 election clearly rose to the level of “high crimes and misdemeanors.” (He told me he would not vote to convict on the second article of impeachment, obstruction of Congress.) Romney’s vote will do little to reorient the political landscape. The president’s acquittal has been all but certain for weeks, as Republicans have circled the wagons to protect Trump. But the Utahan’s sharp indictment ensures that at least one dissenting voice from within the president’s party will be on the record—and Romney seems to believe history will vindicate his decision. He also knows his vote will likely make him a pariah on the right. Already, he says, he’s experienced firsthand the ire of the base. At an airport recently, a stranger yelled at him, “You ought to be ashamed!” During a trip to Florida with his wife this past weekend, someone shouted “Traitor!” from a car window. Eight years ago, he was the leader of the Republican Party, its nominee for president. Today, he has become accustomed to a kind of political loneliness. Romney famously opposed Trump’s candidacy in 2016, and while the rest of his party has fallen in line since then, he has remained stubbornly independent—infuriating Trump, who routinely derides him in public as a “pompous ass” and worse. As I wrote last year, this dynamic seems to have liberated the senator in a way that’s unlike anything he has experienced in his political career. Still, when the senator invited me to his Capitol Hill office yesterday, I was unsure what he would reveal. Romney had been largely silent throughout the impeachment proceedings, giving little indication of which way he was leaning. I half-expected to find a cowed and calculating politician ready with a list of excuses for caving. (His staff granted the interview on the condition that it would be embargoed until he took to the Senate floor.) Instead, I found Romney filled with what seemed like righteous indignation about the president’s misconduct—quoting hymns and scripture, expressing dismay at his party, and bracing for the political backlash. Romney confessed that he’d spent much of the impeachment trial hoping a way out would present itself: “I did not want to get here.” In fact, that was part of the reason he wanted former National Security Adviser John Bolton to testify about what Trump had told him. “I had the hope that he would be able to say something exculpatory and create reasonable doubt, so I wouldn't have to vote to convict,” Romney said. Still, he found the case presented by the president’s defense team unpersuasive. Romney had a hard time believing, for example, that Trump had been acting out of a desire to crack down on corruption when he tried to pressure Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky to investigate former Vice President Joe Biden and his son Hunter. The Bidens’ alleged conflicts of interest may have been “ugly,” Romney said, but it was never established that they warranted a criminal investigation. “No crime was alleged by the defense, and yet the president went to an extreme level to investigate these two people … and for what purpose?” The only motive that made sense, he determined, was a political one. Romney was similarly unmoved by the Trump attorney Alan Dershowitz’s contention that a president who believes his reelection is in the national interest can’t be impeached for pursuing a political advantage. “I had Professor Dershowitz for criminal law in law school,” Romney said, “and he was known to occasionally take his argument to its illogical conclusion.” Nor was the senator swayed by the theory that a president can be impeached only for breaking a statutory law. “To use an old Mormon hymn phrase, that makes reason stare,” he said. “The idea that Congress would have to anticipate all of the offensive things a president could possibly do, and then make them a statute?” Romney posed a hypothetical: What if the president decided to pardon every Republican in prison nationwide, while leaving every Democrat locked up? “There’s no law against that!” he said. “So it’s not a crime or misdemeanor. But it’s obviously absurd.” When I asked Romney why none of his fellow Republicans had reached the same conclusion, he attempted diplomacy. “I’m not going to try and determine the thinking or motives of my colleagues,” he said. “I think it’s a mistake for any senator to try and get in the head of another senator and judge them.” But as he discussed the various rationalizations put forth by other Republican senators, he seemed to grow exasperated. He took particular issue with the idea—currently quite trendy in his caucus—that Trump’s fate should be decided at the ballot box, not in the Senate. “I would have liked to have abdicated my responsibility as I understood it under the Constitution and under the writing of the Founders by saying, ‘Let’s leave this to the voters.’” But, he said, “I’m subject to my own conscience.” When I asked how it felt to be formally disinvited from this month’s Conservative Political Action Conference, he laughed and noted that he hadn’t attended the conference since 2013. But it seems clear that his journey from GOP standard-bearer to party supervillain has been jarring. “I was under the misimpression that what brought Republican voters together was conviction in a certain number of policy points of view,” Romney said. He recalled a political strategist during one of his early campaigns explaining how to court the three main factions of the GOP coalition—social conservatives, fiscal conservatives, and foreign-policy hawks. Much of Romney’s career since then has been spent trying to win over ideological purists on the right. In 2012, he said, some Tea Party activists refused to support him, because he didn’t have a plan to balance the federal budget within a single year. Now the conservative movement is ruled by a president who routinely makes a mockery of such litmus tests. Deficit reduction? “There’s no purchase for that,” Romney said. Foreign policy? “The letters with Kim Jong Un didn’t seem to frighten people away … The meeting with the Russian ambassador in the White House right after the election didn’t seem to bother people.” Somehow, Romney said, he is the one constantly being told that he needs to “be with the president.” “I get that a lot—‘Be with the president,’” Romney told me, sounding slightly perplexed. “And I’ll say, ‘Regardless of his point of view? Regardless of the issue?’ And they say yes. And … it’s like, ‘Well, no, I can’t do that.’” For now, Romney said, he is bracing for an uncertain political future. He said he can’t predict whether Trump will emerge from the impeachment battle emboldened or constrained, but he doubts the experience has shaken him: “I think what’s fair to say about the president is that he doesn’t change his ways a lot.” Nor is he expecting that their relationship will be easily repaired. (“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it,” he joked.) Romney acknowledged that his vote to convict may hamper his own ability to legislate, at least for a while. “I don’t know how long the blowback might exist or how strenuous it might be, but I’m anticipating a long time and a very strong response.” Though he said he won’t make an endorsement in this year’s presidential election, Romney was clear that he will not cast a ballot for Trump. But, he said, “under no circumstances would I vote for Bernie Sanders or Elizabeth Warren to become president of the United States.” In 2016, he wrote in his wife’s name, and he told me, “She’ll probably get [a] second vote.” For months, Romney’s detractors on both the right and the left have searched for an ulterior motive to his maneuvering, convinced that a secret cynicism lurked beneath his lofty appeals to conscience and principle. Just last week, the Washington Examiner ran a story speculating that the senator might be positioning himself for a presidential run in 2024. When I asked Romney about the report, he erupted in laughter. “Yes! That’s it! They caught me!” he proclaimed. “Look at the base I have! It’s going to be at least 2 or 3 percent of the Republican Party. As goes Utah, so goes the nation!” The truth is that Romney’s decisive break with Trump could end up hurting him even in Utah, a red state where the president is uncommonly unpopular. What that means for his reelection prospects, the senator couldn’t say. (He doesn’t have to face voters again until 2024.) But as he thought about it, another hymn came to mind. “Do what is right; let the consequence follow,” he recited. “And I don’t know what all the consequences will be.” We want to hear what you think about this article. Submit a letter to the editor or write to [email protected]. MCKAY COPPINS is a staff writer at The Atlantic and the author of The Wilderness, a book about the battle over the future of the Republican Party.

#politics #impeachment #gop #donald trump #mitt romney #utah #christianity #the church of jesus christ of latter-day saints #religion #usa #the atlantic #mckay coppins #positivity

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