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skzimagines · 2 months

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"Teachers pet."

Minors DNI 18+

"Okay class, that's it for today. If you could bring me those papers by next week, it would help your guy's grading score a lot!" Professor Chan's voice booms through the class as everyone begins to pack their things into their bags.

"Next week? Is he crazy, we'll never get it done by then!" My friend Cam says from beside me. I fold up my laptop and shove it into my bag, chuckling at her comment. "I can always help you, maybe we'll get it done sooner that way." I say, throwing my bag over my shoulder.

"Yeah, that's easier for you to say.... teachers pet." She says with a smirk. My face turns red as I turn to look at Chan. He's currently going through papers on his desk. As if he can feel my stare, he looks up. His eyes meet mine and he gives me a small smile before going back to his work. "I'm not the teacher's pet... You just get along better with them when you actually do your work." I jokingly say... kinda. "Oh I'm sure you're doing work for him." She spits back with a wink. I let out a groan which causes her to laugh, then swing my bag over my shoulder. "You ready?" We head out the door but before I can make it out all of the way Professor Chan calls my name. "Ms. Y/n, can I speak to you for a second?" I stop in my tracks and look at Cam. "Have fun... teacher's pet." She laughs and jogs up to the rest of our friends.

I make my way back into the class, standing in front of his desk. "Is everything okay?" I ask. My hands start sweating as I fold them together in front of me and play with the ring on my finger nervously. It's no lie that this man is beyond attractive, and I may or may not have had a tiny crush on him since last year. But, pushing feelings aside because everyone knows, sleeping with a teacher, probably isn't something you should try to be adding to your resume.

"Yes, I'm just looking through my papers here and I don't seem to have your last report." He states, looking up at me from the stack of papers he has on his desk. I look at him confused, because I know I sat my work on his desk as soon as I walked into class last week.

"I for sure thought I sat them on your desk last week." I say quietly. "Well, I have looked everywhere and I can't seem to find them. They might have gotten lost?" He says, more as a question though. "I can give them to you again to redo, so you can get the points for them, but I'm afraid I'll have to fail you if they're not turned in by tomorrow." He states. "Tomorrow!?...Sir, it took us an entire week to do that report, there's no way I can get that done by tomorrow..." I say, concern filling my voice. He lets out a sigh before grabbing last week's report out of his desk and setting it in front of me. "Do what you can, and I'll add points for whatever you get done." He says. I let out a groan and roll my eyes, grabbing the papers off of his desk.

"I don't appreciate the attitude Ms. Y/N." He says sternly. I've never been one to talk back, especially to people who have more control than I do. I've always left that to Cam. But the fact that I'm going to fail this assignment, after working my ass off on it, sends flames through my body. "With all respect, Sir. I just don't see how it's my fault that you lost my papers. I know I sat them on your desk before class started last week." Chan stares at me, as if he's seen a ghost. After what seems like an eternity but was really only 10 seconds. He stands from his chair and walks around his desk, standing right in front of me. "Ms. Y/N, are you blaming me for your mistake?" He asks. His voice has gotten much deeper and quieter. Sexier, but I'm not going to get into all of that. "I'm sorry, Sir. but..." He cuts me off by quickly walking to me until our bodies touch and he presses me against his desk. My breath gets caught in my throat as his lips nearly touch mine.

"I said, I don't appreciate the attitude. So Y/N why is it, you keep giving it to me?" He asks, his breath fans over my lips and smells of mint and I take note of the gum that's in his mouth. I can't find any words. All I can focus on is the way his hands hold my waist and the way his lips are so close to mine, if I were to move right now, there'd be no avoiding them from touching.

"You don't have much to say now, do you?" He asks with a smirk. A small squeak leaves my lips as he pushes his knee between my legs, causing them to open and him to stand between them. "I have a small idea on how you can get those points for that assignment." He says seductively. "Sir... we shouldn't' do this. Y..you could lose y...your job." I say quietly, trying so hard not to absolutely go feral. "Oh y/n, aren't you the cutest little thing. I have you pinned up against my desk, wanting to fuck your brains out, but yet you're concerned about my job." He says with a small chuckle.

"Sir..." I start to say, but he quickly cuts me off. "You make me crazy when you call me that." He groans out, before slamming his lips onto mine. It feels like electricity jolts through my entire body. My hands instinctively reach to the back of his neck.

He steps away before turning me around and bending me over his desk. “You and these stupid skirts, always taunting me every time you come in here.” He says, lifting my skirt up to lay on my back and dragging my panties down my legs, exposing my dampend heat to him and swiftly taking out his hardened member from his black jeans.

“Gosh… perfect, just how I imagined it.” He says, before slamming himself into me. The desk moves a bit from the force of his thrust. A sharp yelp leaves my lips before he clasps his hand over my mouth.

“As much as I’d love to hear your sweet little moans, I don’t want to lose my job baby girl, couldn’t bear the fact of not seeing you every day.” He groans out. He continues to pound into me, small mumbled moans flow through his hand every time he buries himself inside of me.

I feel my stomach clench up to the feeling of my high coming closer. “I feel that pussy tightening for me, you going to cum for me?” He asks. All I can do is let out a moan as an answer, before my high reaches the peak and exploded around him. My body shakes as he continues to pound into me, bringing himself to his own.

He thrusts extra hard, pausing between every seed he pumps in to me. Letting out a grunt every time as well.

He pulls out and pulls my panties back up and fixes my skirt before pulling his pants back into place. As I stand up from his desk, my name catches my eye. I take a second look at the paper sitting in his desk…. It’s my report, my name written right on the top right side. “Wha… Chan!.” I say, pointing at the paper.

He follows the direction to which I’m pointing at and sees my paper, sitting right smack beside him. “Oh! Imagine that!” He says, picking up the paper with a smirk. “Yeah… imagine.” I say. “Is that more attitude Y/N?.” He asks, giving me the same look as earlier… before he fucked me over his desk.

I watch as he grabs a pen from inside his desk. He takes my paper and writes a big 100% right at the top. “I’ll put some extra credit on there too, sweetie.” He says before giving me a wink.

“You think I did this for a good grade?” I ask. Does he really think I’m that desperate? “That’s not the reasoning?” He asks, giving me a confused look. “No!” I say dramatically. “Why else would a smart girl like you, be fucking her teacher for.” He asks. Folding his hands together on his desk. I grimace at the comment he’s made. “Don’t make me sound like a whore…” I whisper, not having the courage to look at him. He hear his chair slide back against the wooden floor.

I suddenly feel his hand lift my head so he can look me in the eye. “Baby girl, you are anything but… don’t ever think I’d think of you in that way.” He whispers, planting a small kiss to my forehead. A light blush forms on my cheeks as his thumb rubs a circle on my cheek.

“Now… go get to your other classes, we don’t need you to fail those.” He gives me a wink, walking back to his chair. I take one more good look at him, taking in everything that’s just happened.

My heart flutters from the thought of him deep inside me. I shake my head from the thought. I grab my bag from off of the floor near his desk and throw it of my shoulder before making my way to the door.

“See you tomorrow Ms. Y/N..” he says with a smirk.

“See you tomorrow Professor Chan.”

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sweetiesicheng · 3 months

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wooyoung - star player

word count : 979

i need it on record that i know absolutely nothing about soccer besides this one player who was on a cover on a magazine okay thanks bye

"don't let them past you! you're breaking formation!" you hear your coach yell as you and your team run through practice. your team had previously made it into the semi-finals for a tournament in your district. all of you have been practicing like crazy for the game that is at the end of next week.

after awhile, your team is given a break. practice would last for at least another two hours, but the boys soccer team also had to get on the field with your team to practice for a match they’re in.

"you look like someone ran over you.”

you look up while drinking from your water bottle to see the captain of the boys's team, jung wooyoung.

"what do you want, jung?" you ask him as he drops his bags down on the grass in front of you.

"just messing with you," he says and crouches down so he can peck your lips, "you're doing great, babe."

you smile at him, "thanks."

"hey, coach has to talk to someone. you guys take a break while we warm up," one of the guys says to your team.

"i'll take it."

"yea, i'm beat."

"thanks."

some of the guys start practicing on the field while your team took a much needed break. wooyoung sits down across from you, digging in his backpack before pulling out a container.

"here, my mom made this," wooyoung says to you and starts feeding you snacks that he has in the small container. “good?” you nod your head.

"captain! you're gonna have to practice eventually!" you hear one of his teammates yell from the field.

wooyoung turns around, "shut up!" he yells and turns back to you. "have the rest," he offers, "i have another box," he adds before kissing your cheek.

wooyoung gets up and hurries to the field, immediately starting to practice with his team.

"your boyfriend is so head over heels for you," one of your teammates says as she undos her hair to redo it.

"he's only being like this because we got into semis this year," you reply, "we still bicker like an old married couple."

"you two are so cute," another teammate says before sighing, "if only i could find a guy like him."

"there's a whole team of lunatics right there."

"didn't you like—?"

"shh!"

your coach comes back after a few minutes, and your team starts practicing again. you run through your usual formations with a few player changes just to try new things out.

"woah!"

"sorry!"

it's trial and error as new players are changed. usually, your team is pretty cohesive, but the pressure is way too tense.

"okay, you two switch again, and you two switch," your coach instructs, making more player changes.

you continue practicing and run across the field. someone passes you the ball, and you start running toward the goal.

"come on y/n!" you hear wooyoung cheer for you. you kick the ball and watch it fly into the net. the goalkeeper misses the ball and falls to the ground. "that's my girl!"

"hey, jung. keep it down," you hear your coach say to the captain.

"nice one, y/n," one of your teammates says to you.

"thanks," you reply.

"let's keep this up," another teammate says, "the other teams won't have a chance against us," she says with a grin.

"alright, ladies, let's run this again," your coach says to all of you.

—

practice ends as the sun starts to set. it’s evident that everyone is beyond tired and hungry at this point.

you sit with your teammates by a set of bleachers. most of them are getting ready to leave while the rest of you take a break before going home. the guys are also hanging out, praising all of you for doing well.

"y/n, want to grab dinner with us?" one of your teammates asks.

"nah, maybe lunch or something else tomorrow," you reply as you take your cleats off.

"suit yourself."

"see you guys!"

people from both teams start trickling off the field. as you get ready to leave, you notice wooyoung talking to some of the players on the bleachers higher up.

you whistle, warning a look from everyone. wooyoung smiles at you before saying his goodbyes and walking over to you, climbing over a few bleachers to get down to you.

"you can stay. i'm going home," you say to him while putting your regular sneakers on.

"no, i'll take you home," he says. "i already called your dad and told him i'd bring you home when coach said practice was gonna be longer," he mentions.

wooyoung picks up his bags before reaching over to grab yours. you try to stop him, but he takes your duffel.

"i got it," he says to you. "hand me your backpack."

"i'll carry it," you say to him, backing away from him when he tries to grab your backpack from you. you stick your tongue out at him and he does the same. "are you staying for dinner?" you ask as you two start walking towards the parking lot.

"i need to go home. my brother went on a field trip and brought me a souvenir," he replies. you continue walking through the parking lot and make it to his car. both of you throw everything into the trunk before getting into the car.

you see wooyoung smiling as he starts his car up.

"what's with that face?" you ask him.

"just admiring how sweaty you look," he replies, earning a glare from you. he laughs for a second. "i'm kidding," he admits. "you're adorable."

"you're not half bad either," you reply.

wooyoung suddenly leans over the center console and kisses you on the lips. "you're doing great out there," he says to you afterwards.

you smile, "thanks, babe."

"anything for my star player."

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countryclubkook · 1 year

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Him Or Me Pt.2

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Thornton!Reader

Warnings: language, death, drugs, alcohol, toxic Rafe, spoilers for obx 2, angst, slight sexual innuendo at the end

A/N: the long awaited part 2 is finally here, it took me forever to write and i’m still not happy with it so there’s a very good chance i’ll delete this and end up redoing it but in the meantime I hope it’ll suffice. Writers block is truly the worst thing in the world, I hope I did the first part justice in this and hope you all enjoy. The timeline in this is a bit different than the one on obx for story sake!

A few weeks had passed since everything with Topper went down and to say shit had escalated was putting it lightly. Everything was much more intense and you didn’t know if you were going to make it out alive by the end of this all.

John B had killed the sheriff according to everyone in town and had a massive search team looking to bring him in. This only backfired completely when he and Sarah drove their boat straight into the storm and presumably died trying to escape by going towards the storm. That’s what you believed until you overheard Ward and Rafe talking about what Rafe did and how he was the one to kill Sheriff Peterkim, you were sick to your stomach at the thought of the same hands that held you at night being responsible for taking away someone’s life and stumbled back into your room before throwing up into the trash can.

“Baby? Fuck are you okay?!” Rafe rushed to your side to hold your hair back and watched in confusion as you smacked his hand away. The look of pure fear in your eyes and face told him that you heard the conversation. You knew the truth and you were scared of him.

“You killed her Rafe, you framed John B! What the hell is wrong with you?” you screamed at him while backing into the corner wanting to be as far away from him as possible.

“Hey!” he watched you flinch and immediately regretted it “i'm sorry for yelling at you, but you gave me no choice. You didn’t ask me why I did it, you act like I'm some kind psycho killer when I'm not okay? I was protecting my dad just like I protected you when your brother was doing all that shit to hurt you” he watched you grimace at the memory before he continued, “I couldn’t let her hurt my dad and now he’s safe because of me. Sarah is gone and this is my chance to step up and make him proud. Don’t you want him to be proud of me and for us to be a happy family baby?” he cocked his head to the side and slowly walked to where you were before crouching so he was eye level with you.

“Well, of course I do Rafe but you still-“ his hand moved to squeeze the side of your face, not too rough, just enough to make you stop talking.

“I saved him, I saved us baby. If my dad died, we wouldn’t be together right now. You would be alone again, I did this for us” he sounded so sincere and you wanted to believe him so bad.

“Tell me what happened, why you felt the only choice you had was to kill her” he had you where he wanted.

“She was going to shoot him, said he killed John B’s dad with no proof other than a compass and something those fucking pogues said. He would have died over something that wasn’t even true” his eyes welled up and you couldn’t help but bring your hand to the side of his face watching him instantly melt into your touch.

“Do you believe me baby? Please tell me you do, I don’t want to lose you, I can’t lose you”

The next words spilled out of your mouth before you could even think about what you were just told, “I believe you. I’m so sorry I didn’t Rafe, I'm just scared. You’re the only person I have left”

“I know baby, i’m not going anywhere. I fucking love you” he said before pulling you into a kiss.

That conversation with Rafe happened almost a month ago now and your relationship had taken a turn for the worst. What once was a perfect relationship full of love and a man that would do anything to protect you had turned into a toxic relationship full of pain from a man that grew to be a stranger to you. The arguments became more frequent and he was becoming more and more unhinged as each day passed by, his father only adding on to it all. It was like walking on eggshells around him 24/7 and you hated it, you were alone even when Rafe was right there because talking to him only ended in screaming matches or him being too high and wanting a quick fuck to distract him from whatever the hell happened that day. Topper still wanted nothing to do with you, anytime he happened to see you at the country club he’d quickly turn away and leave. But you couldn’t blame him, he warned you and you chose Rafe over him, your own brother.

One night you decided you’d had enough, Rafe was off doing god knows what all the time and getting high more frequently and it was exhausting. You decided you were going to talk to him about it tonight and give him an ultimatum, you or the drugs and whatever the fuck he deemed more important. But the universe always seems to work against you and had other plans, the universe being Ward Cameron and his untimely death.

Now you couldn’t have known what happened, you hadn’t been at Tannyhill when it happened and it wasn’t all over the news yet so nobody had said anything. You knew they had been onto them and that Rafe had been arrested but apparently you were expected to have superpowers and know that Rafe was released from jail and Ward had blown himself up. That’s how you ended up here having yet another fight with Rafe.

“God you’re so ungrateful, you know? I mean Topper dropped you like a lost fucking puppy and I took you in, my family took you in, and you’re tired? I work my ass off to provide for this family, you included, and this is how you treat me? I just lost my father. I was just thrown in jail and my dad took the fall for me making me more of a fucking disappointment, sorry if this isn’t all about you for once” you rolled your eyes at the Topper comment, he always threw it back in your face that he is the one that took you in after what happened, that he was the one that was there for the aftermath. You knew you should have let it go, his large dilated pupils and the small remnants of white powder under his nose alerting you he was high out of his mind. But you just had enough and snapped back.

“If it wasn’t for you Rafe, Topper wouldn’t have even done that. Everything is all your fault! None of this shit with your dad would have even happened if you didn’t kill the fucking cop! God I should have listened to Top when he told me you’d just hurt me. I should have chosen him, at least then I would still have a family” you scoffed and went to walk away before his hand roughly grabbed your wrist.

“Watch how you fucking speak to me. I’m all you have left now, without me you have nobody. What did Topper call you again…. A lying whore? Maybe that’s really what you are, just remember sweetheart, you’re absolutely nothing without me” his voice low and a sinister smirk on his face when he saw tears run down your face.

“I hate you” you yanked your arm free before running into one of the spare bedrooms and locking the door, climbing into the bed before sobbing into your hands at the harsh reality.

You heard a soft knock and sat up in bed rubbing at your eyes. You must have fallen asleep at some point, the argument from a few hours prior hitting you like a ton of bricks again. Maybe if you ignored the person on the other side of the door they’d go away. A few minutes went by without another knock and you assumed your plan worked…until you heard the lock turning and the door opened to reveal the last person you wanted to see.

“Go away” you didn’t want to see him, you didn’t want to look at him, you didn’t want to be in the same room as him, nothing.

“Please,” his voice cracked before he continued “just let me talk” you hated yourself for how easily you gave in.

“talk” you mumbled out and motioned for him to sit.

“I’m so sorry baby. I’m just under so much pressure and now my dad is dead and I’m fucking lost. I never wanted to hurt you, I didn’t mean to fuck this up” he was on his knees in front of you breaking down into tears.

“Rafe…” you sighed knowing you’d forgive him and move on like you always did. It was a toxic cycle but the desperate hope that your Rafe would come back prevented you from leaving.

“I know, if you never want to speak to me again I understand. I hate myself for what I did and said, how I fucking treated you, I always fuck everything up. You were right when you said everything is my fault” what he was saying was partially true, but he also knew in his very fucked up mind that he had you in the palm of his hand. If he broke out the tears and the sob story then you’d believe him and stay. It wasn’t right and he knew that, but it never seemed to stop him from doing it anyway.

“You hurt me..A lot Rafe. This is getting exhausting and I don’t know if I can do it anymore, this isn’t healthy and you know it” you hadn’t even realized you were crying until you felt the wet drops fall on your thighs.

“I know, I just love you. I’m going to get better okay? I’ll get my shit together and get clean and take over the family business. I’ll be a better man, I’m going to make you proud baby, please just give me another chance. I love you more than anything” he moved closer to you, still on his knees, and placed his hands on both sides of your thighs.

“One more chance Rafe. I love you so much it hurts, you fuck it up or hurt me again and i’m done for good. This new you scares me and I just want my old Rafe back” you placed your hands on his face but knew you would come back if this happened again. He knew that too, but he would play the part and make you believe it would be different.

“I promise, I'll get better. I love you so much baby” he said with relief before moving to test the waters and kiss you.

You were reluctant to give in but couldn’t resist and kissed him back with passion. He made you feel important again that night, claimed every inch of you as his over and over again, but it would happen again. He’d send you love bombs after the war and you’d both pretend it never happened. This was your new life as sad as it was, you chose this. That’s all you repeated to yourself each time it happened.

But fuck were you in over your head. You wanted Topper back in your life, you wanted your room at your house, you wanted things how they were, you didn’t sign up for this shit but it was too late now. You just didn’t know what else the universe had in store for you and just how much your life was truly about to change.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #obx imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #outer banks netflix #obx angst #outer banks #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x thornton!reader

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kingpreciouswrld · 2 years

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soo i’m testing your miranda one shot where the reader comes home after some time away and i was thinking something like that with gwendoline??? gwen has been gone shooting for a new movie or show and tells reader that she won’t be home for a another week or so but ends up coming home earlier as a surprise

pairing: Gwendoline Christie x Reader

word count: 578

A/N: Sorry it's so short, I tried! This was actually a great idea, I'm surprised that I didn't think of it!!

It was rare that Gwen was away from home for so long, but for shooting the show Wednesday, she was shooting for 8 months in Romania. You could've gone with her but you had other obligations that kept you at home.

You guys kept in touch everyday, calling each other or texting each other what's happening. You'd always get picture texts from Gwen in her outfits and you had to say that you absolutely loved the Larissa Weems fits.

The time difference made calls hard but you'd stay up as late as it would take to hear and see Gwen. She was your light and you wouldn't miss the call for the world.

It was down to the wire when you guys started talking about being back together. You had so many things to show Gwen and you were excited to finally be in her arms again. Little did you know, Gwen was set on surprising you at home.

The next day, you called Gwen at the usual time,

"So when does your flight come in next week?"

"I'm so sorry love but Tim wants me to stay a bit longer to reshoot some scenes with Christina. Jenna got COVID so we have done extra time for redos."

You frowned, one, because Gwen wouldn't be home until later but two, because she was exposed to COVID and could get sick herself, "Is Jenna okay? Poor girl."

"Jenna will be okay darling, they're taking precautions and she's taken care of," Gwen covered her mouth piece and said thank you to her assistant who took her suitcase off of the conveyor belt.

"Okay well…how're things going over there? Was it fun in Romania? It definitely looks beautiful."

Gwen had muted herself as she got into her cab and unmuted herself when you finished rambling, "Oh it's just amazing here darling, we should really come here together one day. You would like it here."

You hummed as you say down on the couch,"I would, wouldn't I? Also, I really love your Larissa outfits, do you think you could take some home?" You asked shyly.

Gwen smirked, "You like Larissa, hm? Well I'll see what I can do love, okay?"

Your stomach tingled and your toes unintentionally curled at the thought of having Gwen as Principle Weems at home, "Yes babe, thank you!"

"Of course baby doll," the older woman chuckled. She muted herself again as the cab stopped in front of the house. She got out her suitcases and walked up to the front door, "Darling, there should be a package at the front door, do you think you could bring it inside for me?"

You hummed and got off the couch, "Yeah, I can go grab it real quick. What did you get?"

Gwen covered the peep hole with her hand, just in case you looked. You didn't. You opened the door to find Gwen in her lounge wear, looking exhausted but happy to see you.

"Gwen!"

You squealed in surprise before jumping into her arms. You clung to her like a koala and Gwen laughed as she one handedly moved her suitcases inside. You started kissing her neck, your hand tangled in her hair. Gwen chuckled and hummed, "Don't start anything you can't finish bunny."

You blushed and stopped kissing her neck but pulled back and gave her a soft kiss to her lips, Gwen met you halfway and kissed you back.

"Mmm what a welcome home indeed."

#gwendoline christie x reader #gwendoline christie

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xotaemintol · 1 year

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𝘛𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘒𝘪𝘮 𝘑𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘹 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 “𝘈 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘸”

Word count: 3280

Part: 1/2

Pronouns used: She/Her

No TWs (for now) ENJOY!

Gif by: dazzlingkai

▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░✩ ✩░▒▓▆▅▃▂▁

It was the last two days before the end of your trip in Seoul, your best friends had every day planned out but the last two because everyone expected to be out of commission from a week-long of activities, but fortunately, everyone was still on their toes and ready to experience more, and unfortunately, no one had planned or looked into anything other than what you've already done, and no one wanted to redo anything for the last two days, Hell no, that would be too boring. So your best friends suggested a nightclub they saw when taking you home a night ago, they said that it was an adult-only club and that it looked pretty interesting.

Now you were going to turn it down since clubbing with the two of them, is usually them trying to set you up, getting too drunk to do so, and then you babysitting, but the thought that you'd probably never get to go to an adult-only nightclub in Korea without them anyway, you jumped to agree saying: "fuck yeah! Let's go tonight!" And just like that, the three of you began getting ready, you spent the next five hours getting ready, showering, listening to music, dancing, helping each other with your outfits and makeup, and even giving each other tips on flirting and things to avoid. "If you sit a cup down and walk away, then that drink is?" Your best friend asks loudly, you and Gennie laugh and say in sync: "Not yours!" She laughs and nods her head while high-fiving you both, "Good job!" She says, "And if any guys offer you a drink, only take it if he's fine and looks like he could fuck good."

You playfully hit her shoulder while laughing, "Only take it if you saw it getting made, don't just take it if he's fine" You say, playfully correcting her, she laughs and brushes you off while slipping her glittery purple pumps on, "yeah well if a fine man with nice hair and a pretty smile offers me anything, he better be offering head with it..." Gennie says in a joking tone, you put your hand on your hip and look at her as she leans on your shoulder for support while putting on her sliver glittery strapless heals, "you and head...I'll never get it." You shake your head and click your tongue, Lisa laughs and pats your shoulder while leaning down to adjust her heel with her other hand, "that's because your ex couldn't give it."

Gennie snickers and high-fives her as she stands up, they laugh together, making jokes about how your ex was too scared of eating you out because he wasn't good at it. "You remember when we walked in on them and he was trying to figure out where the hole was?!" They both practically scream while cackling at your embarrassing ex, you don't mind though. They never mean any harm, so you laugh along a little. "Okay! Okay! Enough! Both your exes had shitty stroke game anyways so let's relax!" They both gasp and laugh, "at least he knew how to eat it." They walk away while bumping hips with satisfied grins on their faces, you roll your eyes with a smile while sitting down to put on your glittery red heels.

"Oh shit! Our cab is here!" Gennie says, you curse and rush to adjust the strings on your heels, tying them up to your thighs as Lisa grabs your purse and her own. "Everyone got everything they need?" You all nod, "Chargers?" You nod, "Pepper spray?" Again you nod, "GPS?" You nod again, "Phones?" After making sure everyone had all of their things for safety, you rush out of the hotel, the lobby was just becoming active again since most of the people were coming in from parties around the tourist areas, as you walk through the lively lobby, you can feel their eyes on you, and hear their whispers as you pass them by. You can't blame them though, you look good.

As the three of you get into your cab you thank the driver and start to talk amongst yourselves.

JONGIN POV

The place is as busy as always, the main lobby is full of drunk men and women flirting, dancing, making out, and hooking up with anyone who even looked their way. It's kind of gross, how they just fuck anyone who lays eyes on them but who am I to judge? My whole job is making people want to fuck me with just one look, even still I prefer being in the V.I.P section. Not only is it more tolerable because of the lack of loud yelling, horny drunks, and heavy lights; but it's also the best place to flirt with desperate girls who come in to find a perfect boyfriend.

It's always the same too, locals come in the most, with foreigners being a rare occurrence, but they're all alike. They see me after I've finished a show and offer to buy me drinks, they play shy and ask me about why I work here, as if they give a shit, and ask me if they could have a dance. That's when I start to reel them in, I flirt a little, give them a little tease and let them get a small taste of touching me. Now of course, I don't do anything sexual besides dancing with them, but its enough to drive them wild, the locals love to feel me up while I dance on them, and even though it's not enjoyable for me, I love the way they go crazy over me and I used to love how their friends would hype them up, and how they'd squeal shyly with their faces turning red from the heat, but I can't help but crave something different.

"Yo! Kai!" I look over my shoulder seeing Taemin coming from one of the VIP rooms, his body is covered in glitter and his hair is messy, "You'll never guess who's here tonight" he says, I immediately roll my eyes as I realize what he's going to say. "Jungkook?" He nods and laughs while patting my chest, "and your regulars are eating him up," I roll my eyes again and shrug. It's not that I don't get along with Jungkook, he's a pretty cool dude and all, but he takes a lot of my regulars when I'm on break or out sick, and even though it keeps business buzzing, I can't help but feel competitive and possessive over my regulars.

They've spent thousands of dollars on me, some have spent four thousand in one night just to get me to dance on her with only my underwear on; so when he comes in and steals them while I'm away, it gets under my skin more than it should. "Of course he is..." I sigh and shake my head, although it bothers me I can't help but laugh. I feel happy for him actually, he has a girlfriend who is open to the idea of him working here and customers know yet they still throw their money at him for a chance to have one night with him. "Good for him, they pay a lot" Taemin laughs and shoves me a little, "Yeah I know," he says, "That chick that came in last night looking for you spent six grand to spend four hours with me."

I shake my head and scoff a little, it's so shameful how these women would throw their life savings away for a chance with us. No matter how attractive or attracted to a person I am, I'd never do what they do. "Oh..." Hitting my arm Taemin points towards the entrance, "I've never seen them before" he motions to a group of three girls walking into the main area, my eyes follow them as they stand together, right away I get that sudden feeling of excitement, the one I haven’t felt in years. "They look good,” he says, I nod, eyeing them more as they laugh, they all look amazing, they’re so eye catching, especially the one in the red dress, her hair is decorated with jewels and shells, her blood-red dress is short and low cut with a subtle shine to it, and her heels make her legs look amazing. The glitter makes doesn’t even begin to take away from the glow of her beautiful brown skin, and the strings pressing into her thighs make her look so soft.

"The one in the red...she looks so good," I say, she smiles, I can see her laughing at something one of her friends said as she hits her shoulder. Dear god, she's so beautiful, the way her two toned lips curl into a cute smile, and her brown eyes sparkle makes me feel weak in the knees, good god, I’ve never seen a woman so beautiful. As they pay for their tickets the urge to talk to her becomes too strong to ignore, so I turn to Taemin and say: "Let's go talk to them" Taemin clicks his tongue and looks at me, I can tell he has the same idea as me, just from the way he slowly tore his eyes away from them and put them on me, I know he has his eyes on her too "Why? You want to burn their pockets too?" He asks, unlike Jungkook and I, Taemin doesn't usually play dirty when it comes to getting women to throw their wallets and lives at him, he knows how I am, and usually I'd be quick to empty the pockets of a foreign woman, but she's different, I don’t care about her money, I just want her. “No no no, I mean let’s talk to them,” I clarify quickly, “this isn’t work related.”

Taemin laughs, “okay fine,” he high fives me and shakes his head, “but remember,” he looks at me and raises his eyebrows, “sharing is caring.” I laugh and nod, “if she thinks so too,” Finally, we begin to approach them, I make sure to adjust my red jacket, although there's no shirt underneath but I at least want to look nice, I can’t let her slip away.

THIRD PERSON POV

As Gennie is given her access to the main floor pass, you look around at the room, it's split into four different sections but the last is more closed off. The first is the room you are in now, the entrance which was right next to the main floor, it had the bar, lights, and seating, then there was the dance floor, there was a giant disco ball glowing in the middle with streamers hanging from the ceiling, and lights flickering and flashing with thick smoke covering the floor. And the last area you could quite see since it was more closed off, "You ready Y/N?" You smile and look at Lisa saying: "Of course I am!" She laughs and grabs her phone out of her purse, "I should take a picture before we go, so I can log the night you finally get laid by a guy who knows how to fuck."

You laugh and playfully hit her shoulder, "Stop being embarrassing!" She laughs and takes a picture of the two of you, she puckers her lips and squeezes your face softly, “you’re so cute,” she says after taking the picture, you smile and push her away playfully, “you’re so embarrassing,” you say jokingly, “how am I supposed to get laid if you act like this?” Lisa gasps and bumps you softly, “what? You’re actually thinking about it?!” You shush her and look around a little, while muttering: “maybe…” they both squeal and laugh, as Gennie begins to talk about how she’s excited for you to experience the pleasures of a man who only wants to make you feel good, you awkwardly listen, you weren’t awkward because of what she saying, but because you could feel eyes on you again, you know it's a night club so most people are going to be looking to hook up and will watch the entrance for potential partners, but it felt like you were being undressed, it made you shudder a little.

“Excuse me,” you jump as a slightly deep voice comes from behind you, right away the three of you turn around, your eyes go wide as a tall, attractive, tan man wearing a red suit with nothing under it stands in front of you, with an equally attractive man wearing black by his side. "I couldn't help but notice you from across the room," The taller one says, his accent is thick and heavy but his English is fluent and good enough for you to understand, "I can't imagine that you're here to sit in the main room, are you?" He asks, the three of you stand in silence while staring at the pair. To say that they were attractive was an understatement, the one in red had beautiful thick, red lips, gorgeous golden skin, pretty black hair, and sharp eyes with a sharp jawline to match.

Just looking at him made you feel shy, sure you’ve seen attractive men before, you aren’t new to things like that, but he’s so unreal, it’s like he was made by God’s hands personally, and the man standing next to him looked angelic yet sinful at the same time, you head almost spins as you look at him, where do men like this come from? His thick pink lips paired with his fair skin, sharp eyes, and prominent collar bones made him look like something out of a movie, and the look in his eyes, it’s so intense and intimidating, yet enticing at the same time, just from one look you feel butterflies in your stomach. Good lord, he’s so attractive, your knees feel weak as he grins, it’s almost like he can tell just how captivated you are by his looks, you look away shyly, feeling even more embarrassed from looking at him.

"Yeah, it’s our first time here, so we didn’t really know where to go,” Lisa speak up, already from her tone you can tell she has a plan up her sleeve, and you don’t blame her, you’re just curious as to which one she’s plotting to set you up with tonight. If you could, you’d take both. “Oh? Then how about you come to the V.I.P section with us?” The one with blond hair says, you look back at him again, his eyes are fixed on you for a second before he looks away slowly, “really? But we don’t have passes,” Gennie says, the one in red looks at you, his expression is blank yet telling, his lips curl at the ends into a toe curling grin as you look at him from the corner of your eyes, your legs feel like jelly. “That’s fine,” you hold eye contact, not really listening as they speak, “we work here so, you can come for free,” finally you look back at the other male, your eyes focus on his lips since his eyes are too much. “And don’t worry about trying to pay us back, just enjoy yourselves,” you can’t help but feel like he’s talking to you as he smiles.

“Well, if you say so,” Lisa agrees right away, not wasting a second to take the offer, “great, follow us.”

JONGIN POV

As Taemin and I lead the three girls back to the VIP section they whisper behind us, I grin a little as I make out them saying: "I want them both." And "which one do you think gives better head?" Although all three of them are beautiful, I hope that the one in red was the one saying that, the way she looked at me tells me she’s interested, but the way she looked at Taemin tells me she’s deciding who she wants to spend the night with more, hopefully she’s open minded. As we reach a table in the far back of the deep purple and black room they stop and sit down, with the other two sitting on the opposite side of the table from the one in the red, right away I can tell that those two might have a boyfriend while the one in the red, might be single and being set up by the others. As Taemin and I sit on opposite sides of her she shudders and closes her legs tight, I can't help but grin as I imagine that she must be nervous being sandwiched between us.

"So what're your names?" The one in the purple asks that's right, we never did tell them our names. Usually, people who come in know right away, they usually come for Taemin, Jimin, Jungkook, and me, so I never have to introduce myself, "I'm Taemin", "And I'm Kai." They smile and glance at the girl between us with grins on their faces, "I'm Lisa, that's Gennie, and the beauty between you two is Y/N." Y/N? God that's a beautiful name. I lick my lips and lean against the wall of the booth, I try my best not to glance down as her thigh presses into mines, "So I'm guessing you are here on a trip?" I ask, they all nod and avoid eye contact, "What brings you here?" Taemin asks while throwing his arm over Y/N slyly.

I notice right away how she bites her lip to hold back her smile, even though Taemin is making a move this is still a good sign for me, "We were just passing by yesterday when Y/N go too drunk and saw this place," Gennie says while laughing, I smile and watch as Y/N pouts and whines, she’s so cute… “I was just fine! And it was your fault anyways!" She says, she sounds so cute and her whiny tone is so adorable, it's almost unbelievable how she's completely grabbed my attention like this, I can't help but be captivated by her beauty and her pretty voice, and now that I’m closer, the smell of her is just as capturing as her looks. "Speaking of, would you like any drinks?" Taemin asks, they all nod and reach for their wallets, but I stop them with a smirk on my face. "It's on us," I say, "don't worry."

I can feel Y/N shiver next to me as she bites her lip trying to hide her smile again, god I haven’t felt this weak in so long, if all I had to do was pull out my wallet to see her make that face, I’d be dirt poor in a day, "Are you sure? I mean we made sure to bring enough for drinks and-" I put my hand up and stop Lisa while shaking my head, "don't worry, it's fine I promise" Taemin waves over a bartender and gives the names of a few simple drinks, luckily he orders drinks with less alcohol in them than the others, not knowing rather of not she’s a light weight, I wouldn’t want to flirt with her if she was drunk "just see it as a thank you for bringing such a pretty girl with you," as I lean back and look at Y/N her friend's squeal, but she doesn't react.

YOUR POV

"Just see it as a thank you for bringing such a pretty girl with you." As he says this Gennie and Lisa squeal and kicks their feet under the table, he leans back, his arm resting over the back of the booth while he lays the other on the table and looks at me with a smirk on his face. If I could I'd jump out of my clothes now to have him, but I didn't know how to react, I've never had someone so attractive come on to me like this before, to outwardly call me pretty instead of complimenting all of us at once, and his body language; both of theirs. They keep their bodies close and glance at me often, and the heat coming off of their body, it's making me feel hot myself. If they keep this up, I’ll leave with both of them. "T-Thank you..." Kai laughs, his laugh gives me butterflies.

God, I’m gonna scream.

THIRD PERSON

Kai laughs playfully, it's such a beautiful and deep laugh, it shakes you to your core as you discreetly squeeze your legs together more. "You don't have to be shy," he says, "I don't bite unless you beg..." Your eyes widen and Taemin laughs beside you along with your friends, but his laugh is more like Kai's like their in on some type of secret, "Don't worry angel, he's just joking" He says, "Kai here, is a sucker for pleasing women just for being as beautiful as you are." You nervously laugh and shuffle in your seat a little, you aren't uncomfortable; just caught off guard. "You say that like you aren’t too,” Kai rebuttals, Taemin shrugs and cross his legs while looking at you, “could you blame me?” You laugh again, trying to ignore the soft throb between your legs from the sudden drop in his tone, a chill runs down your spine as Kai’s leg brushes against yours and you shiver, “Okay now boys, not too much," Gennie says in a stern tone, "while she appreciates the compliments, don't go overboard."

Lisa nods, "let's all just get to know each other a little first," She says, "okay?"

After two hours of talking Gennie and Lisa were eight drinks deep and talking to a friend of Kai and Taemins; Jungkook, he had come over after noticing the three of you and after Kai pulled him aside he focused his attention on the two of them, while you; were sitting in between Kai and Taemin with your glass half full. You have only had two drinks and were still sober, and so were they, so as they softly spoke to you, you weren’t at all worried that they were only flirting with you because they were drunk. Your friends hadn’t really noticed though, not even when Kai whispered in your ear to compliment you, or when Taemin gently grabbed your chin and turned your head towards him so he could ‘see your eyes better’, you were glad though, because even though your friends are stuck on helping you get laid, they aren’t the best wing men possible, so with them distracted, you could relax into the provocative energy from Taemin and Kai comfortably.

"You know, it's feeling a little crowded down here," Kai says with his hand on your bare shoulder, “what do you think Taemin?" You look over to Taemin and he grins with his lips puckered while nodding in agreement, "yeah it is..." he licks his lip and places his hand on your upper thigh. "You get some more space, angel?" You look up at him with wide curious eyes, the soft throbbing becomes so strong that your legs clench together, are they being serious? "And have a little more privacy?" Kai does the same and you snap your head over at him, the grin on his face makes you want to scream from frustration, as Taemin leans into your shoulder you sit conflicted, your u friends were too drunk and busy flirting helplessly with Jungkook to notice, and you didn't want to leave them with some random guy but you also didn't want to pass on being alone with the two of them.

"So?" Taemin says as he grabs your face gently, making you look at him as your lips pucker, your eyes lock on his right away as your stomach starts to swirl with heat, "you wanna private show baby?" Kai asks.

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kalevalakryze · 1 year

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Hair

The creche had many different species, and they learned a lot about each and every one, but never once did Master Yoda explain why he had those tufts of fur on his head, or why all the other humans seemed to grow the rough fur all over their faces, on their arms, and even on their legs and armpits! She’d always wanted to reach out and touch someone’s hair, it looked soft enough, and she’d seen plenty of Master’s ruffling the hair of their Padawan’s, so.. it was okay, right?

Her important hair questions were set aside for much more important things, like graduating out of the creche and into a full status as a youngling learner. They operated in classrooms now, learning more about lightsabers and diplomacy and anatomy and everything she’d been excited about.

The day she’d turned fourteen, weeks after her first gathering, Master Yoda had approached her, had guided her to a transport and promised her, she would be a Padawan to Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, the living legend, the man they all talked about since they were old enough to retain the stories of his Padawan years.

He hadn’t wanted her, and she was quick to start a fight with him, always snipping back, because Yoda chose her, Yoda had believed she was ready, and she felt she needed to not just prove it to Anakin and Yoda, but herself as well. It was hard work, finding her place with Anakin Skywalker, but they started to click as they fought side by side in the war.

Shore leave was rare, but the five-o-first needed to get their evaluations done, and that was just easier inside a GAR facility, than in a light cruiser. It was a welcome break from the fighting, and soon, Master and Padawan found their battered bodies joined on the couch in Padme’s apartment, one of the rare times she’d been invited to join the obviously married couple for dinner.

Ashoka’s cheek was smooshed into the comforting fabric of Anakin’s robes on his shoulder as he fiddled with the mechanics in his arm, occasionally raising his hand to shove his bangs back and out of his face. “Master,” The Togruta finally interrupted his frustrated groan as he yanked on his own hair trying to get it out of the way.

“Skyway, c’mon,” And then, revitalized, ahsoka was reaching forward, when he didn’t move her hand away, but watched her with a mild amusement that wiped away his frustration. The curls were soft against her fingers, and agitating the strands of hair seemed to invade her nose with the smell of a charcoaly shampoo, and the grime that seemed to follow them both across the battlefield.

Padme had rejoined the Jedi in the living room, and her soft giggle had broken the awestruck silence as Ashoka brushed her fingers through Anakin’s hair. “Do you want me to show you how to braid so we can get it out of his face, Ahsoka?” The senator offered, moving to the couch. Instead of sitting down on the open cushion, she stepped on it, lowering herself behind Anakin and settling herself on the back of the couch. “Come on up,”

The Togruta followed quickly, clambering to the back of the couch and watching as Padme untangled each curl. “You have to be pretty careful, it hurts when our hair gets pulled,” She explained kindly, showing Ahsoka how to divide each section to start weaving them together.

It was the most patient the young Padawan had ever seen her Master as the women jerked his head around, braiding, undoing, and redoing each string of hair until Ahsoka could repeat each braid just like Padme. “You’re doing great,” She promised, her shoulder bumping Ahsoka’s gently, who’d beamed at the praise. “Next time, I’ll let you do mine before the senate,” She offered, to which Ahsoka happily agreed.

She never did get to help Padme with her hair, but when she’d snuck to the funeral procession, she saw the senator’s hair, braided neatly with flowers tucked into the strands. She’d delivered something important, had tricked her way close enough to press the wooden carving into her friend’s cold hands, before it got too risky and she’d needed to melt back into the shadows.

▬▬ι═══════>

It had taken Ahsoka a long time to address the twins, a long time and a lot of preparation to meet the two people who’d reminded her of everything good in their parents. She’d known Leia a long time, hadn’t been able to meet her face to face, but helped move her troops and supplies in the Fulcrum network, up until her ‘death’.

Leia was so much like her father, she smiled with Anakin’s eyes and charged in with his ego, while Luke, like his father in the flair for dramatics, was gentle enough to listen, to understand and give his opponents a chance before he charged against them. The man who’d helped an imperial sith trained to kill him, the man who’d brought her brother back.

It was hard, to think about them and the lives they could have had, if things had been meant to work that way, but, as rebellion troops partied around them, even the wars were with the moment of respite.

She’d found the twins on her ship, hours later, waiting in the dimly lit crew quarters Barriss typically had filling with the smell of tea, if she wasn’t back in the main base of operations helping heal the injured from both sides.

“Our father told me about you,” Luke started, eager to break the ice, but not wanting to tread too hard. Ahsoka had paused in the door, staring at the kids who’d done so much.

“Has he now?” It took every ounce of control to keep the waver out of her voice as she started preparing caff, anything to keep her back to them, even if she could feel the way Leia stared past her skin, the way the woman was cataloguing every scar and every white marking exposed by her minimal armor.

“You were his padawan,” Ahsoka nodded, and once the cups were filled, she had no more excuses but to face them, setting the mugs on the table in front of them before she lowered herself into her own seat.

“I was, a long time ago,” Her head dipped, head lowering and her eyes catching the way the air seemed to stir, the way the force moved, and the way the boy’s face had seemed to light up in the same direction. “I walked away from the order though, from him,” She could still hear the malfunctioning vocoder, when she finally promised to stay… ‘then you will die,’ And she had, that day, they both had, if for a brief moment in the force before the events were interrupted by Ezra Bridger.

The ghost of a connection, the ghost of the force, pushing old feelings through a bond long broken, she could feel the way the force had seemed to settle around her, the familiarity of the presence, and the way she’d yearned for it brought a stinging wetness to her eyes. “I won’t be able to help either of you, with your training,” Because she knew it would be coming to that, knew that the force presences she felt in the room would argue with her, the way Leia seemed about ready to, but, there was a lot she still resented, chains that hung heavy on her heart, burdens she dragged through the light despite forgoing attachments for herself for so long.

“I understand, But, Ahsoka,” It had been so long since she’d been Ahsoka to a Skywalker. His hands, one metal and one flesh, reached across the table, clasping hers. “You’re part of the family, too. To our father,”

He paused, as Leia’s hand joined theirs. “To my father, Bail as well,” The princess assured, thumb stroking across the dark orange of a scar across her hand.

“It didn’t go away when you left the order, you were always a part of it,” He seemed to be looking past her, and Ahsoka couldn’t stop the wet laugh that passed her lips. Hand it to the kid to get through so many emotions she’d tried to let go of.

“Do you two have anywhere to be?” The woman questioned as she stood and peered out of the transparisteel viewport. Ewoks were slowly dousing fires, Rex and Wolffe were passing out bedrolls and helping the more inebriated soldiers find somewhere safe.

“Not until morning,” Leia assured, and Ahsoka was nodding her head.

“Come on, I’ll show you why your dad really kept me around,” She led them to the L shaped couch that sat in the corner of the small quarters, no table broke the space here, since Ahsoka often slept on the couches and hadn’t wanted to risk her effectiveness in defense having to jump over the nonfunctioning holotactics table.

The twins were guided to the floor, leaning back against the cushions, and then Ahsoka was lowering herself onto the cushion behind Luke. “Now that I can tell you about them, here,” She pulled a data pad from beneath one of the worn pillows on the couch, handing it to Leia after unlocking the device, her fingers soon finding Luke’s hair and starting to brush through it, feeling the Jedi start to relax immediately.

“These are clones?” Leia questioned as she came to the first picture. Ahsoka held up on Anakin’s back, arms thrown up in victory as Jesse, Fives, and Echo wore varying expressions of disappointment. The broom closet in the back of the photo was open, showing Rex grabbing the mops and buckets the boys would need to clean up the paint from a rowdy armor party.

“They were my brothers too. My vode,” A small smile flitted over her lips as she followed the old moves, like Padme was still guiding her hands through Luke’s hair, braiding randomly and all over the place. “The man with the Republic spires tattooed on his face is Jesse. He was one of my first friends when I learned how to command. We were all learning to work together, and we helped each other a lot, especially after his promotion to ARC trooper. All he wanted to do was march around and show us what he learned.”

“The man with the goatee is Fives, and he saved my life with the last of his,” Her fingers stilled in Luke’s hair as she looked to the picture and the woman staring at her with wonder. A single tear raced down a sepia colored cheek. (“Find him, find fives, find him!”) “He left messages, hints, expressed concerns and tried to fight a corrupt system. He gave his life trying to warn the Jedi, and they didn’t listen.” Slower now, she continued braiding strands of Luke’s hair.

“It was because of him that I was able to free Rex, but there had been too much damage to the ship to save the others, I try to honor their true memories every day,” She admitted, because she did still have the armor the boys had fit onto her fourteen year old body, names painted against the breastplate and Mando’a words of resilience there to help her when things had gotten rough.

“Echo,” She paused again, blowing a huff of air as a frown pulled onto her lips. “I blame myself for what happened. He became an ARC like Jesse and Fives, from Domino squad. When we went to the Citadel to save Tarkin and retrieve important information… Well, I wasn’t supposed to be there, I put the mission in a lot of danger and he’d faced the price for my mistake,”

Leia’s brows furrowed at that, because she knew an ‘echo’. “CT-1409?” The princess questioned, trying to see the clone in the picture to the Bad Batcher she’d met those few years ago.

“That’s him,” Ahsoka confirmed, finally finishing Luke’s hair and standing to move herself behind Leia.

“He joined with Clone Force 99, the Bad Batch, we’d used their skills for countless operations in the beginning,” Ashoka’s breath caught in her throat and she peered over Leia’s shoulder as she accessed the Holonet, now free of Imperial restriction. Sure enough, a picture of the Bad Batch showed the sickly image of her ori’vod.

Ahsoka had leaned her head forehead, letting her forehead rest on top of Leia’s head for a brief moment. “Thank you,” She whispered into her hair, before continuing her objective, unwinding and brushing out long curls with her fingers.

The data pad was handed off to Luke, who scrolled through the images of Ahsoka with the clones, their mother and father, and even recordings of the Jedi commander, clad in armor like her men, jumping around a battlefield, her high pitch voice calling numbers through the recording, their kill counts, if Anakin’s laughter off screen was any indication.

“This was them?” He finally questioned, and Ahsoka had to peer over his shoulder to see.

“That was the last time we had shore leave together, when your mother taught me how to do this, actually,” Anakin smiled at the camera, several braids poking randomly over his head, much like Luke’s own. Ahsoka and Padme still sat on the back of the couch, her arm thrown around a proudly grinning Ahsoka.

“I was expelled from the order then,” She could hear Barriss’s steps climbing the ramp, perfect timing. “If you want to know more about that, I think you’d need to address it with our Master Healer,” A teasing grin pulled at her lips as the Mirialan rolled her eyes and stepped close, only to press a warm kiss to the top of Ahsoka’s head.

“But I didn’t get to spend much time with either of them after that, not until,” She trailed off, the silence heavy with the unspoken. Ashoka’s fingers guided her without thought through Leia’s hair, weaving in ways she truly hadn’t known, merely another way she was a conduit of the force in the moment, though she didn’t acknowledge the weight that settled around her shoulders, the ghost of a friendly hug pressing into her skin.

When all was said and done, Leia Organa bore the same braided design that Padme had planned to show Ahsoka how to do, if things wouldn’t have gone so wrong. The four force sensitive beings allowed themselves a moment, to mourn what could have been, what was, and to reflect on what would come later. At least, if anything, Ahsoka got to meet the people that would be her niece and nephew, and share stories about their parents that no one else had been able to.

#clone wars #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #clone trooper fives #clone trooper jesse #clone trooper echo #leia organa #luke skywalker #barrissoka if you squint #barriss offee #redemption #everyone deserves a hug #but especially ahsoka

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ahiddenpath · 10 months

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Life Talk

Tone summary:

Life

I'm lowkey a wreck???? Is that a thing? I think you know what I mean. I get up and do the things, but emotionally everything is like AHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

First World Problems

So I've been saving for a bathroom reno for... I don't even know how long, years and years. We have a sum that I thought was pretty substantial??? We went to a showroom and I picked a bunch of stuff I didn't like bc that is what they had. My inspiration for my bathroom is sea glass, and the showroom had neutrals only. Like, the kind of bathroom reno you do to flip a house, but on a much nicer scale.

Anyway, we had y money. Our estimate was y + (y*46%). I mentioned that our estimate made sense about 3 years ago, and the designer said, "Yes, 3 years ago your estimate would be about 6% higher than your budget of y." Meaning there has been a roughly 40% inflation of their services/materials over the last 3 years.

Okay, so like, I get it. I have a home, this is a first world problem. But it also isn't? Because like... What if your pipes burst, and you need to redo your bathroom? Now it's 40% more expensive than it was 3 years ago, through no fault of your own.

It's like everything I was saving for, everything I tried to do... The goal post dramatically leaped in a short timeframe. I'm so frustrated. I'd put it off, but apparently the forecast for this type of goods/services is further unprecedented inflation next year, of course.

I've also spent the whole damned weekend on this, because today, my husband made a 3D model of our bathroom, and I picked stuff I actually like. So like- I haven't done any chores or creative stuff or relaxing. My husband just asked me to get on a call with our two closest friends from out of state to plan a meet up, and I just about burst into tears. I just can't handle more mental load. I don't want to be the person who turns down doing things (that I can reasonably afford) because I'm so overwhelmed, but that's where I am.

Work

It's weird because lately, work has been... A bit better? I take lunches. I leave on time, or even half an hour early. But I'm so beyond burnt out from those few months where I worked closely with someone and did my work plus half of his, or more.

This is a weird thing to say, I know, but I had an epiphany when I was talking to my hairdresser yesterday, lmao! I was telling her all the stuff I did this year at work, and she was like- um, that sounds like a lot? Like really amazing?

And it's true. This year, I generated a type of protein that no one in my company has been able to make. I closed out a project my senior has been trying to do for almost the whole year- I did it in two weeks. I've been taking on and wrapping up lingering projects, all of which I had no clue how to do. My boss calls me The Closer.

And through all of this, I've felt like an underperforming idiot, because I didn't know the skills needed for anything and I struggled and asked a million qs and was anxious all the time. But the people who did have the skills and background couldn't (wouldn't?) do it, and I did.

The place itself is still a massive dumpster fire of chaos. But I'm doing well, except... I'm always given tasks I don't know how to do, and often, no one in my group knows, either. It's all brand new stuff or finishing stuff other people couldn't get done. That is so much extra mental load and stress compared to doing tasks I know how to do.

Creative Life

I've been doing Nanowrimo. Until yesterday, I was doing and feeling great. I wrote all of 83 words yesterday, and 0 so far today, lmao! I'll... try.

I still feel weird/unsure about sharing my work. I'm trying not to focus on that, and instead focus on enjoying creating. Right now, I'm really overwhelmed in general, though.

Fearing for the Future

I'm at the age where if I want to have biological kids, it's uhhhh it's at that "clock is ticking" point. But I'm barely handling myself as I am, without a kid, and stuff keeps getting wildly more expensive. I try to remind myself that I have an anxiety disorder, so my fears are augmented, but...

It really feels like, at this moment, this world isn't fit to bring a kid into. It feels like a lot of the stuff considered normal for a middle class person like twenty years ago is just... Off the table now.

Despair doesn't help anyone, you know? No point languishing on it. But also, uh, it feels very real? I'm sure people think about this a lot lately, so I don't want to catastrophize at length. I guess I'm just sharing that it's on my mind.

I hope you're all well and hanging in there. Please try to take care of yourselves <3

#hidden's life

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whentherewerebicycles · 1 year

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I love that you can never capture how stunning the mountains look because the camera flattens them and makes them look smaller… every time I photograph them it’s like oh yeah you had to be there for sure. but GOD they were stunning this morning!!!

the meeting with my boss went really well… I was, as you know, super freaked out about it last night but she came into it very clearly trying to make amends for that weird bumpy meeting we had earlier and I think that whatever was going on in that meeting had more to do with her state of mind than anything I did or failed to do? anyway we had a good talk and I was pretty direct about being like, I’m new to this role and I don’t have the deep institutional knowledge you have so I need you to give feedback on my portfolio of projects and to let me know if you think I’m putting my energy into the wrong initiatives or not prioritizing the things you see as most urgent. I find it hard sometimes to pin down her specific asks from me but I just kept steering us back to: these are the concrete things I’m taking away from this talk—is that right? am I missing or misunderstanding anything? etc etc. I also decided that I’m going to carve out an hour or two of sustained synthesis time at the end of every week to write through the following:

what I did that week, what I learned from it, and who I met (and how they can be useful to me moving forward)

how the stuff I focused on or accomplished that week fits into my strategic priorities

what steps I’ll need to take next and what new commitments I made that I’ll need to honor (also how and when I’m going to build in reminders for myself to ensure that I’m keeping the promises I make)

what I didn’t have time to focus on and so might need to intentionally center next week

what small stuff is coming up next week (ie what’s on my radar)

what big stuff is coming up that I need to be aware of or keep an eye on… basically just making myself look up from the day-to-day grind to look at the horizon and make sure that daily work is aligned with the big stuff

I am rapidly becoming a person who has ten million projects on deck at all times and I think that consistently carving out this reflection & planning time each week will help me hold all the pieces in my head so I don’t get so sucked into one project that I forget to make progress on the others! but also I am just loving this learning experience of like, building tracking + reflection systems that help me manage my own portfolio of work + manage the work of the teams who are supporting me on different projects. the first part (managing my own work) is definitely coming more easily to me than the second part so I know I’ll also want to keep thinking about how I can get better at delegating work… and communicating expectations, setting deadlines, reviewing stuff together, etc so I can let go of stuff without worrying that I’m going to need to redo it later. mm okay much to think about but I am running on under six hours of sleep and I have fried my brain for the day so I think it’s time to just veg in bed for a bit and maybe nap before I tackle the next part of the day.

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gaytobe · 5 months

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To the three people that look at my posts shoutout to YALL but you will not believe what the hell happened to me

Okay so I have a group project and it’s like script writing essentially and it’s like minimum 5-6 ppl but we made our groups like weeks ago and we’re like moving steadily we got goals and stuff we’re doing well when one girl is like a oh btw I’m dropping out and I’m like ??? Obviously good for her but like ?? What do we do (keep in mind we had like 5 ppl at this so now we had 4 instead of the 5-6 required) so now we’re look stressed because we have to redo the parts she worked on and also is our group even LEGIBLE atp so it’s a lot stress.

SO during our next lab we talk to the profs and like hey what do we do ?? And they’re like uhh well Issok YALL can continue I think but you should check with your course director who was NOT THERE so we waiting till the next week due to schedule and stuff (we had a tutorial with him coming Monday) and we sent an email as well cuz our prof from lab said so and we’re stressed trying to finish everything cuz we’re past the halfway mark for this and it’s like super stressful but my team pulled thru shoutout to them and we were jus working on it a lot and put course director still hasn’t replied and it’s been a whirl but stuff happened so I couldn’t go to his tutorial and ask him so I asked my friend and group mate who also was gonna go to ask him but since we BOTH pulled an all-nighter to do the assignment she slept in and I had to help with car repair stuff so I was exhausted SO WE ASKED OUR PTHWE FRIEND who went same tut and time but she had exam so we’re like 🤡🤡 but it’s like. Eh atp fuck it we ball right

WE GET AN EMAIL

Like it’s been a WEEK and he replied (assignment due next week btw) and he said our group number is legible (!!) but no extension :((( but STILL. A WIN IS A WIN

So alls fine and dandy and we’re steadily doing our work rn when someone messages me (I have a terrible habit of ignoring my messages) and I check it like hours later when I go it for a walk and it’s a girl from my class last year and she’s like hey (my full name) it’s you right? We’re in the same group and I’m like ???? No we’re not?? Like o think I would KNOW if you were in our group???

And I tell her there’s been a mixup and stuff like we got it sorted now but I’m hoping she’s fine now like it sucks here situation but like e we genuinely are exhausted and don’t have the emotional capacity

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thoughtsofadyingsoftwaredev · 10 months

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Hello, Tumblr world! For some reason I am drawn to you in the Fall season. My last post was just over a year ago… sorry about that. Not that you, my lovely reader, care - and that is IF anyone reads this! I won't lie I don't care if people read these or not, this is essentially an online journal for me at this point, ha.

So, what's new with me lately, you might ask? Well, I'll break it down:

Still happy with our house. We've made gradual updates to it since moving in, including redoing some old flooring with some new vinyl faux-wood looking stuff. Super nice. Also replaced an old toilet in the process. Next we're eyeballing a bathtub upgrade for one of the bathrooms and big landscaping changes to our back yard.

Got promoted at work to Senior Software Engineer after 3 years. Not bad turnaround time for that title change, in my opinion. My responsibilities shifted from managing the IAM software to managing our search experience for the many different applications we provide.

This primarily means I'm responsible for drafting search document schemas, working with these other teams to get answers on questions they refuse to provide answers to without me having to ask first, and handling the logic for ingesting hundreds of thousands of items of varying types to different search engines. In my 3.5 years of working here, I have enjoyed the challenges of the job. Of course, it's not without it's awful days or days where my head is screeching, but the good days outweigh the bad for me.

Wife and I are still on speaking terms. That's my way of saying we're both as good and happy with each other as ever lol she's my best friend. We both got super interested in NFL this season and watch every Monday and Thursday game and watch Minnesota (wife's favorite team) on Sundays. RIP Vikings post-Cousins injury.

That's about all I can think of life-wise. My 31st birthday was a few weeks ago, and I feel old as shit sometimes LOL I look in the mirror and I see what seems like new wrinkles in new places, my hair is graying in small parts, and I find it hard to stay up late. It's 1:04AM right now and I find this to be the upper range of my limits lol

I had a dream recently that my wife and I died in a freak accident at some theme park (not a specific one, just some weird abstract dreamy one) - from what I can remember we were on what we thought was part of a ride, but what ended up happening is we both fell to our deaths.

After we died, we both were floating over family and friends as spirits, watching our bodies get carried in open caskets. For some reason, I had two huge pieces of hair that went down both sides of my face (this is nowhere near what my hair looks like so no idea why this was).

At first, when I woke up, I kinda had to laugh at it. The overall sequence of events was a bit silly. But I found myself thinking more and more about it throughout today. Who will care if I die? Not in a "bad thoughts" kinda way, but genuinely - what kind of footprint am I leaving in this world? Will people know or care that I die? Probably not, and I think ultimately I'm fine with that, but the dream gave me pause and kinda fucked with me today haha.

Can I tell you a secret Tumblr? I have a burner Facebook account that I use to see how my old friends are doing. I am very anti-social media, and as part of that, have no real ways of keeping up with people from previous parts of my life aside from those who have my cell or email, so this gives me an outlet to see how friends I've made over the years are doing now.

Some of them never left my hometown, which kinda bums me out, because when I think of my time there, I couldn't imagine having stayed. But I have to consider that they may really love the place and have strong ties to it. I don't want to sound mean when I say that, but it's just a very small, quiet town that seems like a place you'd stay if you decided not to attend university or a trade school. And that's perfectly okay, too.

Some are thriving, too! A very good friend of mine recently got married, and I'm thrilled for him. I remember late nights at college talking with him outside of his dorm in the night air, rocking back and forth in a rocking chair, like the ones you see at Cracker Barrel. We'd talk philosophy, religion, girls, music, and much more. He's an awesome, genuinely kind hearted person and I'm glad to see he's doing well. He's not the only one, there are others who are all out there doing their thing, so to speak. I can't say why, but seeing these people I've known at some points in their lives doing well makes me incredibly happy.

Music is always a wonderful memory and hobby for me. Music is what brought most of my friends I've made and I together. I recently started playing guitar again (thank you Rocksmith 2014) and it has been a blast! I recently acquired a dream guitar of mine for awhile now: a Surf Green Fender MIM Strat. I fucking love it.

Piano is still on hiatus and has been for many, many years. I think it might intimidate me a bit. I eventually will have to bite the bullet and revisit it. I plan on using ABRSM resources to find some appropriate pieces for where I'm currently at. I'm hoping I can ramp back up to SOMEWHERE close to where I was when I went to school for music. I realize it may take years, but I think if I devote myself to it, I can achieve it. Honestly the hardest thing will be getting that dexterity back and remembering scales/fingerings/etc. Hopefully by the time I post next, I can report back with some success on that front!

Hobby coding-wise, I'm starting a new project using a new stack (for me): Java (Spring), Vue, and Postgres. My goal is to create a web application for Veterinarians offices for administrative use. This app will handle invoicing, communications with patients, store pet/owner data, store data regarding prescriptions, surgeries, etc., and probably more I'm forgetting. It's a lot of moving pieces, but it presents a fun challenge on both front-end and back-end, and frankly I've seen the most popular competition (Avimark) and it looks like dogshit. So my plan is to work on this for the foreseeable future, get an MVP up, snoop around my local area and see if anyone is interested in testing it out. This will be a long-term project, though. I have some ramping up to do with Vue as I have not used it since it was still in v1.0, so many things have changed!

Started watching Frieren and that shit kicks ass! The music, the animation, the art style. Only 4 episodes in, but it is easily top 5 anime.

JJK Season 2 has been fucking insane. It started off so crazy, I ended up binge reading the manga up until the end of the Shibuya Incident and holy shit. Seeing the Yuuji vs Choso fight animated was a fucking masterpiece!

Games-wise, I've been deep into WoW classic and FFXIV. FFXIV has always been my go-to, but lately I've been doing WoW and I love the customization that is possible within a class (priests, wars, etc builds can vary wildly and that's awesome!).

And I think that's all I've got! I've been drafting this post for the past 20 minutes-ish. I have to start winding down for today. This may be my longest post so far? Not sure, I'll compare it to my others word count-wise after this and confirm!

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seriouslyseresin · 2 years

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Hair Dye & Surprise Reunions - Jake “Hangman” Seresin x gn reader

a/n: i haven’t written anything and posted it in like two years so apologies if this sucks honestly i’m dying my hair rn and just thought this would be cute.

warnings: purely self indulgent & shitty writing & no knowledge of the navy & fluff (:

He had left for a mission 6 months ago to the day. You were handling things pretty well, you’d gotten yourself into a daily routine, started reading more, watched the entirety of Greys Anatomy twice, and even started working as a bartender at the Hard Deck 5 nights a week after your full time job. You had gotten really good at keeping yourself busy.

So how come you are wandering the aisles of the Sally Beauty with the company of Amelia Benjamin? Well, you at least know how you ended up here in the company of Amelia.

“Okay, you two, can I ask you something?” You inquired from a bar stool where you sat next to Amelia, helping her make notecards for an upcoming exam she had, while Penny continued to get the bar ready to open.

“Sure.” Penny said as she moved to ready the section of bar in front of you, ready to here you out.

“Shoot.” Amelia spoke at the same time as her mother, putting down her pen as she turned to give you her undivided attention.

“How do you think I would look with pink hair?” You asked the pair, squinting your eyes and scrunching your face in anticipation of backlash that never came.

��Honestly, if anyone could pull it off it would be you.” Penny said, her daughter nodding her head in agreement, “you don’t even need to go to the salon, this one here does mine every month.”

It’s no secret Amelia has become quite the amateur hair stylist, she currently sported firecracker red as her color, last month having been platinum blonde, and two months before that she had done just the color you were thinking of, hot pink.

You needed some spontaneity and change, still not expecting Jake home for another two months, you figured this would be the time to do it. You didn’t want to scare off the aviator who after almost a year of being stuck in the limbo of a situationship, had finally asked you to be official two months before he left for his current mission.

“Are you gonna redo it for when Jake get back?” Amelia asked as she reached for the hair dye off the shelf.

“Honestly, I don’t think so? I mean I’ll see how he reacts when we have our skype date tonight, but I’m doing this more for me. I want to do something fun and I think that I could put Lava Girl to shame.” That got a laugh from the girl who had just recently forced you to watch the classic Shark Boy and Lava Girl when you admitted to having never seen it before.

The drive back to your house from the beauty supply store consisted of the two of you going back and forth for the Instagram debut of your hair. The two of you set up in your kitchen, towels around the sink, news paper on the floor, and dawned some of your old college t-shirts.

Three hours later, your personal hair dresser had your hair styled and dried, stepping back to admire her work, “yeah, you’ve set the new standard for pink hair. Lava girl or even that chick from Lazy Town have nothing on you.”

You get up to see yourself in your bathroom mirror, your now bright pink locks complimenting your complexion surprisingly well. A satisfied grin over took your face and stayed there while you drove Ameilia back to her house, and still remained as you worked to transition your makeshift salon back into your kitchen, a playlist Jake made for you echoing through the house along with your voice as you sang along.

A fan favorite song of Jake and yours came on shuffle through the speakers and you turned up the volume, grabbing a spatula to use as a microphone as you belted out the lyrics of the chorus. Too enthralled in how main character you were feeling, you didn’t hear the as Jake used his copy of the key to your house you had given him once you made things official between the two of you. You had relished in the opportunity to humble to aviator as you gifted him a small box that held a key decorated in purple cow print. He loved it, though, reminded him of your sense of humor that he had come to fall in love with.

Jake couldn’t help but smile when he opened the door, met with the sound of one of his favorite songs and your voice singing along with it. Curiosity crept up on him as he made his way to your kitchen, following the sound of your Grammy worthy performance, and he started to get the hints of a smell. Almost like that of a hair salon he thought to himself. However, it all made sense as he stopped in the doorway, jaw dropped as he took in the sight of you.

Your back was turned to him as you clutched the spatula you sang into, dancing to yourself, you spun around to face your imaginary Grammy award audience that in your head you were performing for. As you landed your dramatic 180 twist, your eyes that were once closed for dramatic effect, opened and you let out a shocked gasp, spatula dropping to the floor as your hands came to your chest, feeling your heart skip a beat at the shock from the sight of your boyfriend leaned against the doorway with a surprised glint in his eyes and a smile reflected in every feature of his tanned face.

“Hey pinky pie, thanks for the welcome home performance. There gonna be an encore? Do you take requests? I’d really like to hear some Taylor Swift.” He said as he made his way to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head into your neck.

“Are you really here right now?” You whispered in disbelief and afraid that if you raised your voice you would wake up from the dream it felt like you were living in. You were holding him, he was back.

“I’m really here and I apparently missed a lot since our last skype date because I may not be the most observant but I think I would remember you having pink hair.” He chuckled as he pulled back from your tight embrace, one of his hands coming to cradle your jaw and the other carding through your bright hair.

“Do you hate it?” Worry quickly painted your features, you were prepared for him to hate it from a distance and for you to embrace your new look while he finished out his mission but right now you are feeling on edge.

“Baby, are you kidding me? You look hot as fuck. Who did this? Amelia? Kid is talented and could go places if you ask me.” He placed a kiss to your temple as he grabbed your hand, leading you to your living room.

So many questions and thoughts were floating through your head right now, “when did you get back?” he sat down on the couch first and you went to sit next to him.

“This morning. Our mission timeline had gotten moved up and we ran it yesterday.” He said as he looked at you expectantly and he motioned for you to lay your head in his lap.

You chuckled as you did just that, you weren’t expecting him to be home let alone to have such a reaction to your hair. It’s no secret that his love language is physical touch but it’s so endearing to you as he seems to have this need to be constantly playing with your hair. This was something you could get used to.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early?” You relaxed and your eyes fluttered shut as he carded his calloused hand through your head, scratching at your scalp lightly, emitting a content sigh from you.

“Well, I’m not sure if you’ve heard of this thing. It’s kind of a new concept, it’s called ‘a surprise’.” You opened one eye to be met with the look that captured your heart, Jake’s sweet lips were curled into a subtle smirk, smile lines on show, but his eyes reflected his joy and playfulness. He still earned himself a gentle whack to his chest for the sarcasm. He captured your hand upon its impact and lifted it to his lips, pressing a loving kiss to your knuckles, before he leaned down and placed a long awaited kiss to your lips.

#hi i think i hate this but i thought fuck it might as well still post it #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin fic #jake seresin imagine #top gun imagine #g writes

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life-on-the-spectrum · 3 years

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So last year, a teacher bullied one of my students to tears.

We’ll call her L. I taught her when she was 6, and my husband taught her when she was 7. We both taught her once that class hit elementary school. She was nine when this happened.

She’s always been a little bitty Goth. Think Daria Morgendorfer, but with more laughter. The girl thinks that horror is hilarious, and always has. And she is a TALENTED writer. At the time of the incident, she was already circulating little books around the school full of horror stories that she’d written herself, in a second language, because this is an ESL school. All of her writing assignments that she turned in were at least five pages longer than they were supposed to be. Kid has a gift.

WELL. One day, she had to write an essay about her favorite color. Being a spooky, creepy little girl, she thought it would be funny to say that she liked red because of the Devil. Her writing teacher that year, however, was an Evangelical Christian, and all hell broke loose. He called in the “discipline” teacher, the scariest Korean teacher in the school, to make her rewrite it. When the discipline teacher said that little L had done nothing wrong, he threw a fit in front of both the girl and the discipline teacher. He then decided to try to change the essay topic and force the whole class to redo 45 minutes of work, with only 10 minutes until the end of class. And he threw another fit when the discipline teacher said that no, he couldn’t do that either.

All of this happened in front of little L. And in front of all of her classmates, with her pulled out in front of them.

I had this class for reading comprehension next period. Poor L was in tears from the humiliation, straight-up traumatized. I did my best to try to help, but this was the whole class’s first experience with ADULT bullies. Everyone was shaken.

Well, in reading comp, we were studying a biography of César Chávez. Dude was a labor union organizer in the 20th Century, he and Dolores Huerta ran a strike that forced people in the 70s to admit that migrant farm workers were people who deserved living wages. I always take a day to explain to the kids what a labor union is, and how strikes and boycotts work, just so they have literally any clue what the stories are talking about. This just so happened to be that day.

Well, towards the end of class, when they all understood the lesson, a little boy we’ll call J raised his hand and asked “Teacher... can M***** Teacher punish all of us together?”

I said “Not really. He can’t punish any of you without the Korean Teachers’ approval. He can yell, but yelling’s nothing. It’s just noise. He can’t do anything else to you. Didn’t you see how [discipline teacher] defended L against him?”

This is where the students in the class all straightened up and started grinning at each other. I was... mildly worried. They’re a mischievous bunch. But the bell was about to ring, so I gave them their homework and sent them home. Okay, so I was pissed at M***** Teacher too, and kind of wanted to see what they had planned.

What happened over the next few weeks was pure chaos.

Every single essay that M***** Teacher recieved from that class was full of the most macabre, gothic, gory, terrifying shit that a 9yo’s mind can invent. Museums full of pickled body parts, weddings to Dracula, zombie apocalypses, you name it they wrote it. All of them. Every single kid in the class. Every class he had with them, M***** Teacher tried to drag the Korean teachers in to yell at the kids, and every class he got refused. He yelled so loudly that the whole school heard him. He yelled so loudly he started scaring the other classes.

A month later, the school had to fucking rearrange everybody’s class schedules because the mothers of the school had started calling and complaining about M***** Teacher’s behavior. They were going to start pulling their children out if the school didn’t take him out of the writing classes. The mothers forced the school’s hand, and the kids got my husband as their writing teacher.

Also, Korea has a tight-knit group of children who know exactly how much power they have to deal with bullies and abusers.

It’s been over a year and I’m still so fucking proud of my babies.

#tw child abuse #tw abusive teacher #the kids are alright #story time #adventures in teaching #collective action #césar chávez #labor unions #punk #mutual aid #school protest

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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My Brother's Best Friend Is The One For Me

Wally West x Batsis!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Got to rereading my Batsis fics and came across the "What A Flashy Romance" and wanted to do another one with Wally because I love him. Enjoy! -Thorne

Being the middle child and also the only girl in the Batfamily meant two things:

1. She had four brothers that treated her like a porcelain doll, despite the fact that she could throw a punch at 336 PSI.

And

2. She followed an unspoken rule that Dick and Jason’s friends were off limits when it came to dating.

In all, neither of those things were major problems. She’d learned at a young age how to avoid Dick and Jason’s overbearing-protective-brother-modes, and Tim and Damian were younger, so she didn’t have to worry about them. The second one was also avoidable—most of her older brothers’ friends were the same, and she wasn’t around most of them to develop any feelings.

Well, there was Wally, but it was just a crush. A stupid, little school-girl crush—that she’d never really grown out of—that didn’t matter in the slightest. Except whenever Dick brought him over to the house and she had to pretend that sitting next to him didn’t make her heart race like she’d run a mile.

And the most annoying thing about the whole crush is that she couldn’t tell if Wally was ever interested in her or not. Most of Dick’s friends, Garth, Kyle, Roy, they treated her like a little sister—hell, they even said “Love you lil sis!” to her regularly. And yet, Wally didn’t. Now, there was the occasional head pat, but even that was an affectionate gesture that siblings and SO’s did all the time. It was infuriating, and so was Wally—but she was going to sort it all out the next time he came over because the worst thing he could say was “No”, and either she needed to hear that…or “Yes”.

***

Normal Sundays for the Wayne household usually meant Ultimate Waffle Breakfast and sitting on your ass all day until patrol—it was the one day of the week where they could do anything and nothing and didn’t have to stick to schedules. Everyone loved Sundays, especially (Y/N), because it meant that all of her family was home, even Jason (who tried to deny that he enjoyed coming home to hang out, but if that mile long grin was any help, he was lying). And while everyone was home, that usually meant that everybody’s friends were coming over too.

***

She swiped the syrup out of Jason’s hand when he swung it back around, grinning at him when he glared at her.

“I was gonna use that, (Y/N),” he griped, and she shrugged, uncapping the bottle.

She tipped it over and watched the syrup lazily pour out of the container onto her waffles.

“You were taking too long.” Her eyes twinkled with humor. “I guess you were as…slow as molasses.”

While most of the table groaned at her terrible joke, Dick snorted into his milk, causing it to splatter on his plate and across the table.

“Nice one,” he coughed, wiping his face and the dark oak surface.

(Y/N) bowed dramatically. “Well, I did learn from the best.” When Dick’s face lit up, she turned to Alfred and smiled. “Alfie, thank you for teaching me your ways.”

The old butler merely tipped his head, a hidden smile crossing his lips at the way the eldest son’s jaw went slack. She turned her attention to Bruce who was quietly chewing, eyes following along the research paper she’d asked him to check out.

“Dad, what’s on your agenda for today?”

He swallowed and flicked a line out with a red pen, etching his own comment in the margin. “Lucius has a few ideas about some new gadgets he wanted to run by me.” Another line went out. “I’ll call him after breakfast.” Bruce looked at her. “You?”

(Y/N) nodded at the paper in his hands, then slapped Jason’s who was reaching over to take a piece of bacon from her plate. “Waiting for you to finish tearing me a new one so I can redo the paper.” She cut into the waffle with the side of her fork. “Once I salvage what little scientific dignity you’ve left me with, I’ll probably laze around.”

“You mean what you do normally?” Bruce quipped, grinning when she glowered at him; his eyes went back to her paper. “You’re doing well so far.”

She huffed. “Tell that to every red line you’ve marked out in that paragraph.”

He flashed the paper. “I’m writing in the margins how to change it. This isn’t a dissertation, sweetheart. You’re allowed to make mistakes. We all do.”

(Y/N) grumbled as her cheeks warmed and she went back to her plate as the conversation flowed around her.

Most of it was the discussion of what everyone was planning on doing, Damian was going to play video games, Tim was going to join him (which she knew was going to be fun while the moment lasted until the petty sibling rivalry got in the way and their gaming dwindled into a physical fight that she and probably Dick were going to have to break up), Jason was going to use the workbench in the cave to upgrade some gear, and Dick apparently,

“Wally and Garth are gonna come over later and hang out.”

She paused, mid-stab of her fork and looked at up. “Wally’s coming over?”

He nodded. “And Garth. We were gonna go to the mall and get some new clothes.”

Jason snorted, laying an arm over the backs of Tim and (Y/N)’s chairs. “Spending money with daddy’s credit card, Dickie?”

Dick smirked. “Just like you.” Jason merely matched his grin, and while the entire table was cracking up at Bruce’s frown, (Y/N) was silent, heart beating faster at the thought of seeing Wally.

“(Y/N)?” She startled and looked up at Dick.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were okay. You got quiet all of the sudden.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Yeah, just thought about all of the corrections I’m gonna have to do because somebody CAN’T STOP MARKING OUT MY PARAGRAPHS.” Bruce merely smiled and knocked out another line.

It was a lie. It was the biggest lie she’d told right next to the one she told when Bruce had asked her where she was on prom night her senior year a few years ago—she was totally not saving a different sector of the universe with Kyle Rayner, she was dancing with Sam Reilly all night—she strongly believed her dad knew the truth—Batman knew everything.

Bruce handed the paper back to her and she groaned as she scanned the red lines on every page. It was going to take her hours to go over this.

Jason leaned over and read the title, “Cellular Division and Mutation Under Extreme Elemental Circumstances…a composition by (Y/N) Wayne.” He cocked a dark brow. “Go big or go home, huh, baby girl?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Doctor Halberd wanted us to pick challenging topics for the research paper this term.” A crooked smile crossed her lips. “I’m nothing if not ambitious about proving I’m smarter than everyone else.”

“You need another source,” Bruce murmured, sipping the steaming black coffee. “One-fourteen is good, but I’d go for one-fifteen.”

She groaned and dropped her head. “Are you kidding me? I had enough trouble gathering that many.”

“Why don’t you use Barry?” Tim piped up, mouth full of whip cream and strawberries.

“Master Timothy, we do not talk with our mouth full,” Alfred admonished, and Tim blushed.

(Y/N)’s head shot up and she stared at her brother. “That’s actually a good idea. Speedsters would make for perfect references about cellular division.” An idea popped into her head and she glanced at Dick. “And since Wally is com—”

“Nope,” Dick interrupted, pointing at her. “Wally is coming over to hang out, not to be poked and prodded to finish a paper.”

She let out a whine and turned to Bruce. “Dad, tell Dick to let me at least talk to Wally about it.”

Bruce turned his attention onto Dick. “Let your sister talk to Wally about her paper.”

“Oh, come on,” he complained and (Y/N) stood from her seat, hurrying around the table to stand behind Dick’s seat.

She draped herself over his shoulders, tucking her chin in the crook of his neck. “I promise I won’t be annoying if you let me come with you. I’ll ask two questions every thirty minutes and I’ll go do shopping on my own, so I won’t be in the way.” (Y/N) craned her neck and pulled the most pitiful puppy eyes she could. “Please?”

Dick’s eyes darted to her face and then he looked away. Just one more push.

“Please frate?” she begged and when his eyes went wide from the usage of his native tongue, she knew she’d won him over.

He deflated and let out a sigh. “Fine,” he grumbled. “You can come with us.”

(Y/N) squealed and pressed a kiss to his cheekbone, as she grabbed the paper and hurried towards the door. She halted and spun around, looking at her father.

“What do I need to be most specific about?”

“Division under elemental circumstances.”

She glowered at him. “No shit Sherlock. Specifics.”

“Molecular division under terrestrial gamma-ray flashes.”

“That’ll work,” (Y/N) nodded and exited to room.

Jason looked out the door then back to his brothers. “She’s way to excited about science sometimes.” They merely laughed.

***

She raised the red lace, cold shoulder V-neck shirt to her chest before frowning, and switching it with the full lace blue shirt with mini golden lightning bolt charms hanging off the trim. After a moment, she pulled the blue one down and sighed.

“You know, if you want to impress him, I’d wear the red shirt.”

She jumped and barely managed to suppress the scream that was coming up in her throat as she swiveled around to face her door. Jason stood in the doorway, a knowing look on his face. She could play this one of two ways: she could be truthful, or she could lie—she chose the latter.

“What do you mean?” He snorted and walked into her room, taking a seat at her desk.

“I mean if you’re trying to impress Wally, wear the shirt that’s the color of his suit, (Y/N).” She looked away and into the mirror, but she couldn’t escape the eyes boring into her back.

“Is it that obvious?” she asked quietly, and he laughed.

“That you’re head over heels for Dick’s best friend? Oh yeah. Totally.”

She sighed and sat on her bed, pulling the red top over her torso. “It’s just a crush.”

“Seems like more than a crush to me, baby girl.”

(Y/N) pulled the fabric down and looked at him. “Are you gonna tell Dick?”

Jason scoffed. “Do I look like a narc to you?”

She cocked a brow and deadpanned, “Just the other night you told dad that Damian lifted Two-Face’s wallet when he was being put in a cruiser.”

“Well, that wasn’t something important,” he countered and nodded at her. “This is.” He paused and shrugged. “Nah, I’m not gonna tell Dickhead. Play this out however you see fit, baby girl.”

(Y/N) stared at him for a moment then averted her gaze and let out a sigh; Jason huffed.

“That sounds like a heavy sigh, (Y/N). What’s wrong?”

She shrugged. “I don’t even know if Wally would be interested in me. He’s him and I’m me.”

Jason stood and walked over, kneeling in front of her. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

(Y/N) met his eyes. “Anytime he’s had a girlfriend she’s always been super strong or really outspoken.”

“And you’re not?” he quipped, causing her to huff.

“You know what I mean, Jay.”

He nodded. “Okay, so you’re not an Amazon or shoving your head up someone’s ass for a story. But you’re you.”

“And that means?”

“You’re the only daughter of the World’s Greatest Detective who’s a wicked smart science major by day and a badass vigilante by night.” He cupped her cheeks. “You are intelligent, warmhearted, talented, and absolutely beautiful.” Jason smushed her cheeks together and grinned as she giggled. “And if Wally doesn’t see any of what I just said, then he’s a damn fool and not worth your time. You hear me, baby girl?”

She nodded. “I hear you.”

Jason gave her a firm nod and let go, standing to his feet. “Now come on let’s go do your makeup.”

(Y/N) blinked. “You can do makeup?”

“Baby girl, I can do a lot of things. Now hurry up. That razor sharp eye liner and golden eyeshadow isn’t going to do itself.”

***

She waited beside Dick with a pleasant smile on her face, and despite the fluttering heartbeat in her chest, Jason’s pep talk kept running through her head and with every passing moment, she felt her confidence rising. He was right, if she told Wally and he didn’t feel the same, then it was his loss and her gain to move on and find someone else.

A black sedan pulled up at the manor and the passenger window rolled down, revealing Wally at the wheel and Garth in the passenger’s seat. Dick waved at them.

“Hey guys,” he greeted. “How was the drive over?”

“Oh, you know, we saw three carjacking’s and one armed robbery,” Garth quipped. “I assume that’s normal for Gotham though.”

“It’s a bit below average actually,” (Y/N) piped up. “Hi Garth. Hi Wally.”

Wally smiled and Garth waved in return as the two siblings started getting in the car.

“You’re coming with us, (Y/N)?” Wally questioned and she nodded.

“Do you want me to lie to you or give you the truth?”

He chuckled. “I’m always open for a good story.”

“I wanted to buy out Victoria’s Secret and piss off any boyfriends who are in hot water with their girlfriends.” The guys laughed and she admitted, “Truth though, I need one last source for a research paper.”

“Gonna find that source shopping?” Garth asked and (Y/N) caught Wally’s eyes in the rear-view mirror.

“Actually, my last source is Wally.”

They fell silent and looked at her, though the speedster’s focus was on the road.

“What are you gonna source Wally on?” The Atlantean inquired.

“My paper is over cellular mutation under distress from elemental conditions.” She smiled at Wally. “Our speedster here, is a walking subject perfect for the paper. I can only hope that he agrees to be a willing participant.”

Wally chuckled. “I’d be willing to part with a few secrets for you. Of course, I’d have to—”

“Remain anonymous.” (Y/N) winked. “I’m sure my professor would be okay with me citing ‘The Flash’ so long as I had a picture with him to back it up.”

“I like pictures,” he murmured, pulling into the parking lot.

“That’s good to know,” she replied and when he put the car in park, she took her purse and added, “So I’ll leave you boys to do your shopping and Wally, I’ll text you any questions I have.”

“You’re not gonna hang around?” Garth asked and she shook her head.

“Nah, I don’t wanna be the annoying little sister who follows her older brother and his friends around.” She smiled at them. “Besides, Dick was kind enough to let me come along. Least I can do is stay out of your way.”

(Y/N) opened the door and waved at them. “Text me when you’re ready to leave and I’ll meet you back here.”

***

Despite the initial joke that she was going to buy out the lingerie store, there was actually some truth in the statement, and she drew her fingers over one of the lace baby dolls as she looked at her phone, grinning like a dope at Wally’s response.

Well, I wouldn’t say I’d grow a second skin from how fast my cells regenerate, but I can make my body heal instantaneously. -W

Can you regenerate limbs or major organs? –(Y/I)

Major organs or useful ones? -W

(Y/N) paused at his response and thought for a moment. It was risky. Sending the text, she was thinking about was risky, but it’d sure get her point across that she was into him. With her heart hammering in her chest, she pushed send and stuck her phone in her pocket.

Whichever ones are useful to you, Wally? ;) –(Y/N)

Her phone didn’t buzz for a good minute, and Wally took less than a second to reply, so he was doing one of two things: A.) Telling Dick that his younger sister sent a flirty text, or B.) Trying to figure out how to let her down easy. (Y/N) didn’t know which one was worse. Her hip buzzed and she inhaled shakily, pulling her phone out of her pocket with one eye cracked open to see how screwed she was.

Do you have a useful one in mind, beautiful? -W

She had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from letting out the biggest gasp any human had ever made, and she nervously looked around her to make sure no one else was staring at her. She grinned as she replied to him.

Oh, I could think of one…or two or three…Why? Is there gonna be a pop quiz over this later? I’ll have you know I’m an excellent test taker. –(Y/N)

Is that so? Well, what happens if you were to fail this particular pop quiz, (Y/N)? -W

I guess you’d have to stay the night for a study session and help me make a better grade ;) –(Y/I)

As she waited for another response, someone’s hand touched the small of her back and she reacted, immediately stepping away from the offending touch to spin on them. Her eyes went wide when she saw Wally standing before her, a grin on his face, phone in his hand.

“I think an overnight study session is possible, (Y/N).”

Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like a fish until she finally got her brain to work and asked, “I thought you were shopping with Dick and Garth?”

He shrugged. “Told Dick you asked me an advanced question that’d be easier to answer in person than over text.” He wiggled his brows. “You know, advanced equations and scientific gibberish.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and turned back around, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks as she picked up one of the teddies. And when she realized what it looked like, she only felt more flustered. Crimson with baby blue trimming and was practically a shoelace.

“Well, that’sa hint if there ever was one,” Wally quipped, and she pulled the lingerie out of his line of sight.

“It was just the first one I grabbed!” she exclaimed, snapping her mouth shut when people looked over at them. Her cheeks felt like they were wildfires, and she pressed her head against the cool metal of the rack, sighing with what little relief it provided.

“You know, (Y/N),” he started softly. “If you’re not comfortable, this doesn’t have to go anywhere. I can forget this ever happened if you want me to.” (Y/N) opened her eyes and peered at him, at the concern but also the kindness in his gaze.

“I just—” she murmured and trailed off before letting out a sigh. “It’s kinda complicated.”

“Okay,” Wally nodded. “My mouth might work faster than my brain sometimes but lay it on me.”

She cracked a smile and thought back on Jason’s words. If Wally doesn’t see any of what I just said, then he’s a damn fool and not worth your time.

(Y/N) took a deep breath and looked at him, admitting, “Wally, I have…feelings for you.” His eyes widened and though she felt the sting of embarrassment, she pushed out her words. “It’s stupid, like one of those dumb childhood crushes that just sticks with you, you know?”

She averted her gaze and looked at her peep toe heels. “I just don’t wanna screw anything up because even if you don’t feel anything like I do, I don’t wanna lose you as a friend. Because I do value your friendship.” She sighed. “And Dick. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable about coming over to see him if there’s a chance you’ll have to see me too. I just—”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Wally interrupted gently, a smile growing on his face. “You’re thinking way big here, (Y/N). Bigger than you need to right now.”

She met his eyes. “Right now?” she repeated, and he reached out, taking her hand in his. His fingers felt tingly against her palm and he smiled.

“I like you, (Y/N).”

She blinked at him, practically dumbfounded. “You…you do?”

Wally nodded and confessed, “Have for a couple years, but I didn’t wanna make a move not knowing if you were interested.” His cheeks tinged pink, and he said, “But I’m glad you are. Like super glad.” (Y/N) giggled, suddenly feeling really foolish for all her worry and Wally let out a chuckle too.

She stared at him for a moment, relishing the coolness of his skin before pulling away, toying with the teddy in her other hand.

“So, about tonight…you staying over?”

Wally let out a groan and looked between her and the lingerie. “Probably, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to get away long enough to spend some time alone with you.”

(Y/N) let out a ‘pfft’ and winked. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Flash. You are the fastest man alive.”

“You’re into quickies? Good to know,” he grinned.

“Shut up,” she giggled.

1K notes · View notes

bluejayblueskies · 3 years

Text

an ill-fitting definition

rating: M words: 4.3k relationships: jongeorgie, jontim, jonmartin, background wtgfs additional tags: canon compliant, pre-canon, scottish safehouse period, canon asexual character, fluff, kissing, implied sexual content, rumors and misconceptions

written for weeks two/three of @archivalpride for the prompts identity and doubt!

cw for misconceptions about asexuality, assumptions made about somebody’s sexuality, rumors and outing somebody without their knowledge, non-explicit/implied sexual content, mention of canonical character death, mention of canonical stalking and paranoia, gossip (including of the sexual nature), food, very mild blood, mild internalized acephobia

ao3 link in source

It’s three weeks and two days after they began dating, when Georgie picks up Jon’s hand where it’s clasped in hers and asks with plain curiosity in her voice, so does the ring, y’know, mean anything?, that Georgie hears the word asexual cross Jon’s lips for the first time.

It’s not a word she’s unfamiliar with; she’s run in enough LGBTQ spaces in her time in uni that she has a good idea of the breadth of identities that are out there. She rubs her thumb across Jon’s ring and thinks, in the voice of the gender and equality training instructor with sharp red heels and a “fun” black dress who’d stood in front of the seminar she’d been mandated to take for one of her courses:

Asexuality. A lack of sexual attraction. An aversion or repulsion to sexual activities.

It had been a small word on a large black-and-white slide, crammed in next to aromanticism and overcrowded by a myriad of other sexual identities discussed at length. It had been… quite a comprehensive training, Georgie thinks as she quits fidgeting with Jon’s ring and instead threads their fingers together. For a moment, she considers asking what he means anyway, but she quickly dismisses the thought. She wants to be supportive, and as Jon looks at her with open, trusting eyes and a faint smile, she decides that she knows enough. She doesn’t want to make it awkward, and with things like these, she’s found that asking Jon to explain his feelings in plain terms can be… well, awkward is certainly a word for it. Best just not to bring it up, she decides.

Still, she feels the need to ask, “Can I kiss you?” because the red no sex sign blinking on and off in her head is frustratingly vague on what, exactly, is contained within that stipulation. When Jon voices his assent, she tips her head up and presses a quick kiss to his chin before kissing him on the lips, wiping the disgruntled look off them.

So yes to kissing, she thinks, tucking that away next to no sex. Yes kissing, no sex. Yes holding hands, she adds as she squeezes Jon’s hand in hers and he smiles at her, warm and soft, that special side of Jon that she only sees on occasion. No pet names, she adds a week later when she tries out sweetheart and Jon’s nose wrinkles with displeasure. No foot rubs, when Jon swats at her and says, between giggles, that he’s awfully ticklish. Yes back rubs. Yes cuddling. No PDA. No touching with wet or sticky hands. Yes brushing hair.

That’s as far as she gets before, one year and two months after she begins dating Jonathan Sims, she stops. After which point she stops keeping track, because, well. There’s really no point anymore, is there?

“I’m sorry,” Jon says, burying his head in his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tim says quickly, holding his hands in the air in a placating gesture. He scoots a few inches away from Jon on the couch for good measure, unsure just how much space Jon needs right now. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize—I should apologize. I should have asked first.”

“It’s just—” Jon makes a frustrated noise, and when he takes his hands away his cheeks are dark and he won’t meet Tim’s eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s okay,” Tim repeats, watching with a twisting feeling in his stomach as Jon apparently notices that the button of his trousers is still undone and quickly goes to redo it. His eyes follow the movements of Jon’s hands automatically, and just as automatically, he notes the distinct lack of a tent in the front of Jon’s trousers. The same… cannot be said for his own. Particularly after nearly twenty minutes of kissing, which Tim had very much enjoyed.

Christ, had Jon been uncomfortable with that as well? All in a rush, Tim says, “Was the kissing bad too?” Then, he winces—fuck, that sounded accusatory—and adds, “It- it’s okay if it was, I just- I didn’t know, and I don’t want to do something that makes you uncomfortable, Jon.”

“No, the- the kissing was fine, it’s just...” Jon makes an aborted motion with his hands, like he’s trying and failing to find the words.

“... complicated?” Tim supplies.

Jon nods mutely.

“That’s okay,” Tim says, and he finds that he means it. “We don’t have to do anything more than kissing if you don’t want to.”

“I- I don’t…” Jon worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, like he’s searching for the right words, the crease in his forehead deepening every moment he fails to find them. Finally, he lets out a long, labored breath, pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, and says, “Yes, that… that might be best.”

Tim studies Jon’s face. It’s pinched and a bit stiff, like Jon would very much like to crawl out of his skin or melt into a puddle and disappear. “You sure?” he feels compelled to ask, placing a hand carefully on Jon’s knee. “You, uh. You seem a bit unsure.”

Jon sits there a moment more, spine straight and rigid, before melting slightly against Tim’s hand, his face slipping into something more relaxed but no less unhappy. “Yes.” He hesitates a moment, then says, a bit stiltedly, “I’m, um. I’m asexual. Since we’re already talking about this, I… I may as well get that out in the open as well.”

Oh. A few pieces slot into place, and Tim says with perhaps a bit more enthusiasm than necessary, “Oh. Why didn’t you tell—?” He cuts himself off and offers Jon a sheepish smile. “Sorry, sorry. That was rude of me. Thank you for telling me.”

“We’re dating,” Jon says bluntly. “It was going to come up eventually.”

“Still.” Tim shrugs, then reaches for Jon’s hand and holds it tightly in his. “Thanks.” He hesitates only a moment before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to Jon’s nose. Jon makes a disgruntled noise, which Tim thinks is adorable. Then, because it feels appropriate, he says, “Y’know, Danny… Danny was asexual. Aromantic too, actually. We had a big talk about it a few years ago where he sort of… laid it all out for me.” No sex, no romance, no thank you, had been the overall gist of it. Tim makes a new box for Jon and fills it in with the words no sex, yes romance, it’s complicated.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly, with that same sort of sadness in his eyes that he gets every time Tim mentions Danny, something much gentler than pity and significantly less cloying. If Tim notices the faint discomfort that accompanies it, something that whispers that isn’t my definition of asexuality, we’re not the same, you don’t understand if one were to listen closely enough, he doesn’t let on.

Tim does, however, notice the discomfort in Jon’s eyes—now mixed with anger—when two years, six months, and seven days later, he accuses Tim of murder. But by then, their days of hand-holding and nose-kissing are far, far behind them.

“Maybe he just needs to get laid,” Melanie says with a groan, lying on Georgie’s couch and staring at the ceiling. The Admiral is curled up on her lap, purring contentedly. She scratches absentmindedly under his chin.

“What, Jon?” Georgie appears in Melanie’s field of vision, wielding a damp wooden spoon and frowning.

“No. No.” Melanie shakes her head emphatically. “Martin. He’s been all… sulky lately. I think he’s still upset that Jon came to me instead of him for help, but I don’t know why he has to be all… touchy about it.”

“Ah. Well, you know, he is a bit hung up on Jon. At least, according to you.”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” Melanie says grumpily. “Besides, didn’t you say that Jon went on about Martin, like, all the time? Sounds like he’s got it bad as well. Maybe they could just… y’know.”

“Melanie.”

“What?” Melanie tries to shoot Georgie a glare, but it’s obstructed by the back of the couch. “I’m on my last nerve, Georgie!”

“I know, honey. But Jon’s really not… well, he’s not very open about these sorts of things. Getting him to talk about his feelings was like pulling teeth when we were together.”

“It still baffles me that you used to date.”

“He’s very sweet when you get to know him!” There’s a pause, a few clatters from the kitchen. “Besides, even if he and Martin got around to talking, Jon… well, he doesn’t.”

Melanie frowns. “Doesn’t what?”

“Have sex.”

“Really?” Melanie sits up, disturbing the Admiral, who lets out an irritated mrpp before adjusting himself accordingly and curling back up on her lap. “So when you were together…?”

Georgie shakes her head. “Nope. Never.”

“Huh.” Melanie thinks for a moment. “Is he like… religious or something?”

Georgie chuckles. “Jon? No, not at all. He’s asexual.”

“Isn’t that like… that thing that sponges are? Where they self-reproduce?”

“Seriously?”

Melanie scowls at the incredulous look Georgie’s giving her. “What? I’m not being a- a dick, I’ve just never heard of it before.”

“You were a YouTuber. Your job was to be internet famous.”

“Okay, now you’re just making fun of me.”

Georgie shoots Melanie a grin. “Sorry. Basically, it means that Jon doesn’t do sex. Like… at all. He just… doesn’t.”

“Huh,” Melanie says again.

“Yeah.” Georgie turns back to the stove. “Now, come here. Tell me if there’s too much salt?”

“Sorry Admiral,” Melanie whispers as she deposits him onto the floor and crosses the room to wrap her arms around Georgie’s waist from behind and take the bite of sauce on the spoon Georgie holds out for her. “Mm, tastes great. As always.”

And in the back of her mind, Melanie adds another line to the section labeled Jonathan Sims and writes, with careful handwriting, he doesn’t.

Although… according to Georgie, Jon doesn’t.

Martin pauses the tape and rubs his hands over his eyes. His cheeks are burning red, and he takes a few minutes to just breathe.

Doesn’t what? Doesn’t date? Doesn’t kiss? Doesn’t—

Martin stops that train of thought before it goes any further, the flush on his face growing in intensity. It’s none of my business, he tells himself as he ejects the tape and turns it over in his hands a few times before sliding it back into the small box it had come from.

He still can’t help but think about it. He thinks about it before the Unknowing, when Jon hesitates just a moment before wrapping him in a tight hug and whispering, I… I’ll be back, Martin. Then we can talk. He thinks about it when Jon’s in his coma, when Martin sits at his bedside and loses himself in daydreams and what-ifs. He thinks about it when Jon’s hand is clasped in his and he’s leading Martin out of cloying white fog and sea-salt air, his shirt speckled with bits of dark liquid that Martin tries to pretend isn’t blood. He thinks about it on the way to the safehouse, Jon leaning against his side, Martin’s hand clasped firmly in his.

He thinks about it a lot, in the confines of the wooden walls that let in the growing chill of the Scottish countryside.

Jon doesn’t.

He knows what Jon does. Jon makes him breakfast most days, eggs and toast and sometimes waffles, which Martin’s always considered a guilty pleasure but that he’s had more times in the past week and a half than he’s had for the past ten years. Jon puts his head on Martin’s shoulder when they sit on the couch and read, flipping through the dusty novels they’d found tucked in cardboard boxes underneath the bed that Jon had wrinkled his nose at but has been slowly making his way through nevertheless. Jon clings to Martin like his life depends on it when they sleep, and Martin will wake in the morning with one arm slung across his chest, a leg between his, and a sizeable portion of hair tickling at his nose.

And, nine days into their stay, Jon smiles at Martin as he shuffles into the kitchen in the morning, stands on his toes, and presses a soft kiss to Martin’s lips.

“Um,” Martin says eloquently, still half-asleep and trying to process what he’s 98% sure is their first kiss. He’d be 100% sure except for the fact that Jon kissed him like it was nothing, like it was easy, like it was something they do every morning.

The smile slips from Jon’s face, and he looks nervous. “I- I’m sorry, I should have asked first—”

“No, no, it’s- it’s okay,” Martin hastens to say, taking one of Jon’s hands in his and squeezing gently. “Just- just surprised, that’s all. I, um. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to kiss me, given that we haven’t…” He gestures absently, his face heating up. Stop talking, Martin. “Yeah,” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” Jon says with a frown. “I… apologize for giving you that impression. I- I love you, Martin—I have no problems with kissing you.”

Warmth courses through Martin, as it always does when Jon tells him that he loves him. It all feels so unreal sometimes that he’s here, with Jon, away from it all and living in quiet domesticity. “Oh,” he says, face flushed. “A- all right, then. Great!”

“Great,” Jon echoes.

“Just- just thought maybe you didn’t—”

Martin clamps his mouth shut, face heating up more, this time in embarrassment. Shut up, Martin.

Jon raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t… what?”

“Um.” Martin rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “Kiss?”

Jon looks at Martin blankly. “Oh. Well, I- I do.”

“Right, yeah, I- I put that together. When we, um. You know.”

Jon looks amused. “Kissed?”

“Yep, that,” Martin squeaks out.

They look at each other for a moment before dissolving into giggles. Jon presses another kiss to Martin’s lips and finishes making the waffles and kisses Martin again when he hands Jon his tea, and it’s really quite lovely indeed.

So Martin adds Jon kisses to his mental list of Jon does and finds a sole remainder on the list of Jon doesn’t. And it’s fine with him, he decides, if Jon doesn’t want to have sex. He just wants Jon, in whatever way Jon will have him.

Jon doesn’t do sex, he thinks as he kisses Jon goodnight.

So, three days later, when they’re on the couch and they’ve kissed until Martin is red-faced and breathless and Jon pulls back with a pinched expression on his face, Martin assumes—with hot embarrassment coursing through him—that he’s somehow gone too far and strayed into sex territory and made Jon uncomfortable.

Then, Jon says with cheeks dark and eyes focused resolutely on Martin’s chest, “Martin, would… would you like to move to the bedroom?” and Martin’s thoughts grind to a halt.

“Sorry, what?” is all he can think to say.

Jon’s cheeks grow incrementally darker. “I am asking,” he says slowly, like the words are clunky and unwieldy in his mouth, “if you would like to have sexual intercourse. With me, of course, I- I hope that was implied.”

Martin’s aware that his mouth is quite literally hanging open in shock. He closes it quickly before swallowing and saying, “I… yeah, Jon, I- I’d love that, but I thought you—”

He clamps his mouth shut again, a touch too late. Jon’s forehead creases in confusion and he says, “I what?”

Martin hems and haws for a moment before biting the bullet and saying, all in a rush, “I thought you didn’t like sex.”

Jon’s frown deepens. “What? Why?”

And god, Martin doesn’t want to admit that he’s been thinking about office gossip for nearly a year, but he’s dug his grave—he may as well lie in it. He sighs, worries his hands on his lap, and says, “I… may have listened to a tape where Melanie said that Georgie said that you… didn’t.”

Jon looks at Martin blankly for a moment before his expression flattens into something that’s equal parts irritated and resigned. “Ah. Right. That… that makes sense, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry, Jon,” Martin says emphatically, placing his hand atop Jon’s and squeezing. “I- I didn’t mean to hear it; I was listening to the statements and it was just there.”

“No, it’s… it’s not your fault.” Jon sighs and rubs a hand across his eyes. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

“What?”

Jon makes an aborted, dismissive gesture with his hand. “I’ve… never been good at explaining my own preferences. I never did with Georgie, just… told her I was asexual and left it at that. I suppose she took that to mean that I, er. Didn’t.”

Asexual. Martin has a vague notion of what that means—he’s been in enough online LGBTQ spaces to have encountered the word before, but he’s never really looked into it much himself. If pressed, he thinks he’d also assume it meant that Jon didn’t. Something a bit guilty twists within him at that thought, amplified by his next thought that Georgie shouldn’t have assumed, because, well, that’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it? Still, he feels the need to voice it; he squeezes Jon’s hand again and says, “It’s not your fault that she just- just made assumptions about what you wanted, Jon.”

“Yes, but it’s my fault that I never corrected her.” Jon makes a face. “Or Tim, now that I think about it. I… I suppose I’m just not very good at talking about these things. Particularly because my own preferences are…” Jon’s pained expression deepens. “Christ, I don’t want to say complicated again, but there really is no other word for it.”

That’s not your fault either, Martin wants to say, but he knows Jon will just contradict him again, and he’ll repeat himself, and then they’ll just be talking in circles, and that won’t help anything. It’s frustrating, but it’s the truth. Still, Martin finds the words waiting on his lips when he opens his mouth, so he shuts it again and thinks for a moment, promising himself later. I’ll tell him later. Finally, he says carefully, “Do you… do you want to talk about it? We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I don’t want to assume.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “Well, I don’t want to keep assuming, I suppose, given that I’ve already assumed quite a lot.” Quieter: “Sorry, again.”

“It’s fi—” Jon cuts off, takes a breath. “Th… thank you, Martin.” He hesitates a moment, then says haltingly, “I- I do want to talk about it, but I don’t—” He makes a frustrated noise. “—I don’t know how.”

“Okay,” Martin says after a moment. “You said it’s complicated, yeah?” When Jon nods mutely, he continues, “Would it help if you described how you feel right now? That’s- that’s less complicated, right?”

Jon’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “I… suppose.”

“All right, then.” Martin makes a go-on gesture, then rests his hand atop Jon’s and applies a gentle pressure.

Jon takes a few deep breaths, squints at nothing, makes a few wordless noises, then says bluntly, “I want to have sex with you.”

Martin tries really, really hard not to blush, but he doesn’t think he quite succeeds given how hot his face feels when he says, “Right, okay.” His voice is a bit higher-pitched than normal; he hopes that Jon doesn’t notice. “And, um. Do you always… want to have sex with me? Or just right now.”

Jon grimaces. “That’s where it gets complicated.” He makes an I-don’t-know gesture with his free hand and says, “No? Yes? I don’t know, Martin. I’m told that not wanting sex all the time is- is normal, that- that you have to be in the mood, but apparently I’m just supposed to know when I’ll be in the mood and when I won’t be, and that- that doesn’t really work for me.”

“Are you—” Martin cringes internally, but forces the words out. “—in the mood right now?”

“Well,” Jon grumbles, “not anymore, but I was. And it’s complicated, because even if I am, I- I don’t always want to be touched, but how do you explain that to someone, how- how do you tell someone that it’s mostly no but sometimes yes and there’s a very good chance that I might change my mind halfway through and decide that it’s no after all?”

“I think,” Martin says patiently, “that you just say that.”

Jon gives Martin a look. “Martin.”

“What? It’s true!” Martin gives Jon as reassuring a smile as he can muster. “It made sense to me, at least.”

“Yes, but that’s not—” Jon makes a frustrated noise. “It’s not whether or not it makes sense, it’s whether or not somebody is willing to put up with a sexual partner who doesn’t know whether or not they’re going to want to have sex on any given day, whether they- they’ll be repulsed or interested or want to give but not receive or the other way around or- or something else that I haven’t thought of but that will likely happen because consistency is, apparently, off the cards for me entirely.”

“Hey, hey,” Martin says gently, placing a hand on Jon’s shoulder and rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. “Jon, look at me.” When Jon looks, albeit reluctantly, Martin continues, “I can’t speak for other people, and I- I can’t tell you how to feel, but I can tell you how I feel, and I… I’m willing. No, more than willing—I love you, Jon, all of you, and if this is how you feel, then I love that about you too. Whatever you’re willing to give me, it… it’ll be enough. You’re enough.”

Jon’s cheeks darken and he looks away. After a long moment, he says in a stiff voice, “Well. Thank you, Martin.” Then, a bit softer: “I… I love you too.” He looks at Martin then and offers him a small, weak smile. “It’s… well, it’s still awkward, but it’s not quite as bad—talking about all of this—as I thought it would be.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Talk to me about it, that is.”

Jon’s smile turns a bit hesitant. “So you would really be okay if I… if I never asked again? To, er. To have sex.”

“Yes,” Martin says, without hesitation.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly. “And- and if I said that I did? Want to? That… that would be okay too? Even if I’d already said that I didn’t?”

“Yep.”

Jon looks down at his hands where they’re twisted tightly in the hem of his jumper, then back up at Martin. “All right.” He hesitates a moment, then says, “And if… if I said that I wanted to have sex… now?”

Ah. It looks like Martin’s not done blushing quite yet. “Yep, that- that’s fine with me,” he squeaks out, then cringes internally. Fine? Really?

Thankfully, Jon doesn’t seem offended; if anything, he seems amused, his mouth quirking up into a small smirk. “All right, then.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to Martin’s lips, soft and chaste and ever-so-slightly lingering before he pulls away. “I, er. I think I’d like to just kiss for a bit, though.” His smile turns teasing. “Foreplay is very important, after all.”

Martin groans and gives Jon a look, his face likely fully tomato-red by now. “Jon.”

“Need to make sure we’re fully in the mood before beginning proceedings—”

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point,” Martin says, a giggle slipping out around the words. Then, because he’s nothing if not a little mischievous himself, he leans forward and captures Jon’s lips in a kiss, significantly less chaste and a touch more insistent, pressing until Jon is leaned back against the arm of the couch and Martin is hovering over him. Martin disengages from the kiss so he can marvel at the flushed, wide-eyed expression on Jon’s face. “Like that?” he says innocently.

Jon blinks up at him for a few seconds, like he’s not entirely sure how to process everything in front of him, before he smiles, a warm, happy thing that captures Martin’s heart entirely and steals it away. “I do believe that was adequate, yes. Perhaps you should do it again though, just to make sure.”

So Martin does. I love him, he thinks as he kisses Jon on the couch and kisses him again on the bed, kisses him in the spot between his shoulder blades where he always carries tension and in the dip of his clavicle and on the inside of his thigh. And when he’s curled up next to Jon after, he presses another kiss to the crown of Jon’s head and wraps his arms around him and quietly discards his mental lists of does and doesn’t. He’ll start from scratch, he decides, and after a moment’s thought, he comes up with two more lists, upon which it’s surprisingly easy to add item after item after item.

Jon likes to be kissed. Jon likes eggs and toast, but not jam, and likes his tea black and slightly oversteeped. Jon doesn’t like wool because he finds it itchy. Jon doesn’t like white wine, but he likes red, the kinds that are too dry for Martin’s tastes.

Jon likes Martin, and Martin likes him too. So, so much. And even when things change, when Jon finds a white wine he likes at a restaurant they visit and he takes his tea once with honey and enjoys it and he goes through a period where he doesn’t enjoy open-mouthed kisses and Martin adjusts his lists accordingly, that remains.

#archivalpride #the magnus archives #jongeorgie #jontim #jonmartin #tma #jonathan sims #tim stoker #georgie barker #melanie king #martin blackwood #my fic #my writing

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