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ira-407 · 2 years ago

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How to School Me Better: Recounting Math

[Image description: The cover for the book Math Curse by Jon Scieszka and Lane Smith. A kid is falling down a spiral of numbers.]

The image is the cover of a book Math Curse that our teacher read to us in 3rd grade. It does a good job of showing how math appears in many facets of our lives, but also how math can be very overwhelming for many people.

This is a big one. It’s also a very interesting story. I fluctuated anywhere between being in a pull-out math class in late elementary/early middle school to being in AP statistics in high school. I’m proud of the progress I made in those years, but I also don’t think the advanced math courses were really my speed. For most subjects in K-12, I felt like the basic level was too easy (and often had the obnoxious kids in them) while the advanced levels were anywhere between a little and way too hard. Apparently many other ACs felt this way too. This was especially true in my ninth grade math class, which was a fucking nightmare in hindsight. Small classroom, thirty-five people in one class, one single teacher who was replaced halfway through the year, and a state test that only about 60% of the total students in the entire state passed. Those are amazing numbers, I’ll tell ya. I barely passed by the skin of my teeth that year. It was probably the closest I came to failing a class. During the subsequent years of high school, I definitely didn’t struggle as much, but also was far from a star student in math. The math classes I took in college were easy enough for me to skate by quite well in them, though I did get B’s instead of A’s even then. Here’s some things that worked well in particular:

Having formulas readily available

Walking the class through problems step-by-step

Finding ways to apply the math we learned to the real world (ex: graphing projects, budgeting, spreadsheets)

Hands-on measurement activities

Mnemonic devices

Here are things that didn’t work well:

Long problems that required lots of spacing on scratch paper

Teaching entire chapters (or 2 entire chapters) within only three weeks before an exam

Word problems

Expecting us to learn the material by solely doing the homework and classwork

That last one was really only something one teacher did, and it was in the aforementioned ninth grade math class. Word problems in theory work, and are a good way of contextualizing what you learn as it applies to the material world. However, the way many word problems were worded was confusing, perhaps intentionally so. Many word problems require some kind of visualization. Now I’m actually very good at that. The problem is that it’s easy to get lost in specific details, and if a word problem uses words I don’t know, then I can’t visualize it. This is particularly an issue when it comes to anything geometry related. Teaching so much content within three weeks (or even less in some cases) before testing us on it is misguided at best and outright sadistic at worst. Some people can definitely keep up with that pace, but many can’t. I certainly couldn’t. This applies to any other subject in which exams were commonplace. There seems to be the unspoken principle in advanced classes that if you are at that level, then you should be able to keep up with a faster pace and a larger workload, which I not only think is emphatically false, but is an unhealthy mindset to have. More often than not, it leads to burnout. Whether the burnout happens while taking the classes or after graduation, it definitely happens. Pacing especially applies to a subject for which practice is vital, and math is certainly one of those. Now I don’t necessarily think this means there should be homework for math in particular and not for other subjects. I don’t think homework should be a thing, period. There are ways to practice math while in class, and test mastery of the material, without using homework or tests. There are self-paced math classes. I could’ve tried that in college, but ultimately didn’t do it. Not everyone learns the same things at the same pace. Especially not something like math. Math often has different levels of instruction before other subjects in school do for this reason. However, this still means that regardless of if you’re in special ed, standard, or accelerated math, you and the rest of your classmates are going at a set pace. A class of thirty-five students is sure as hell not going to all keep up in equal amounts, but neither is a class of six, or even three. I know this, having been in both of those extremes. Khan Academy’s math course seems to be pretty great and is self-paced. We used pieces of it in some of my classes. It still doesn’t fix the core issues of being forced to learn and practice enough to be able to pass a test on such a tight schedule. I think the skills learned in math class can be applied more directly to “real world” skills than they usually are. Math projects were a good way of doing this. Why not focus more on that instead of simply testing the hard knowledge? There’s a lot of talk about how we aren’t taught to balance checkbooks or how to pay taxes. Both of these things can easily be projects in a math class. Same with cooking. Yes, we had culinary and business classes, though what we would do in those classes was a lot less defined and certain since they were specials. There’s no reason not to combine aspects of these courses more closely.

TL;DR-Math was a subject I made a lot of good progress on over time in school, yet still struggled with in many ways. The pacing at which the math was taught to us as well as the way it was taught made a lot of concepts harder to understand than if there was more practical application of them, which does exist in classes that are electives. There should be more effort put towards bridging the two.

#how to school me better #school #math #education #education reform

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legionofpotatoes · 2 years ago

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For real, your take on Mando season 3 is completely on point. But I get not feeling able to say it out loud without a disclaimer before, after, and in the tags to keep from getting shouted at in the reblogs. It's just the messed up nature of being in the SW fandom on Tumblr. Speaking your mind on your own blog is an invitation for buffoonery.

If I were completely honestly, I'm not in the least shocked that's what we got. I've long held the opinion that the worst part about the fandom is the fan opinions and expectations out of a new series, and the expectation that a formula for a show won't change, or that a character will maintain one set mentality/trope while simultaneously offering new, completely different story arcs. It isn't necessarily impossible to pull off, but it takes very careful planning and execution. And, unfortunately, that has never been a strength in this franchise, even before Disney ownership.

For most shows, it's the season 5 slump. After 5 seasons, all the flavor is gone and any additional seasons are painfully rehashed at best. For all the corporate financial squeezing that's been done to Mando since the beginning of the show to wring out revenue like its a wet washcloth, it really tracks that were in this place after only 3 seasons.

IMO the only thing that's going to save Andor is the fact that the end of the story has already been told in Rogue One and its confirmed that season 2 will end at that point of the timeline. If it was going to be a 3+ season show, I suspect we'd see the same treatment.

Anyway, I'll stop flapping my gums in your ask box. Your hot take encapsulated what felt off about this season to me. I couldn't put words to it, but it just felt....meh.

I just disable reblogs and try not to tag it in an inflammatory way, my gripes are genuinely like. basic semiotics and story sense, I'm not going after anyone's childhood or feel-goodness. This is all me-problems and me-expectations with a massive machine of commerce that will never give a shit lmao

I too wrote a couple of posts back in s2 days expecting something of this sort going forward after the weirdly presumptuous cameo-baiting of s2 and whatever in the goddamn hell boba fett did with its mando tie-ins, but an entire season of tirespinning sure was a surprising choice. I think writing for TV is fundamentally different than writing for film, so I didn't really see a clear parallel of incompetence within the franchise; and especially with season 1 being so solid in balancing both the overarching and the episodic stuff I felt like they had a neat ramp to milk a decently long character piece out of.

But I can't help but feel like my main problem with the disney/abrams/filoni/favreau era of star wars is its irrationally strong love for the aesthetic. it blinds them to good choices that will then make for interesting stories. gently deradicalizing, humanizing, and then literally AND figuratively getting din out of his shell so he could open up to a child's love could be such an effective, simple to parse, and wholesome core to structure the series around, but that would upend the aesthetic of their cowboy-ass romp a bit too fast and have an end and an identity and all that non-marketing friendly stuff. so they keep withholding his psyche, they keep giving then taking clear communication tools away from grogu, they keep teasing their bond but never outright stating it (I cannot believe after 3 seasons he still hasn't just looked at the baby and directly confessed he loved him), so they can keep bumping those goalposts back and forth while pretending it's progress. because they are in love with the aesthetic.

again, this is my main problem, I don't see this as a problem writ large or even something that represents a wrong way to do star wars. who the hell even knows how you treat a franchise that large at this point, what importance you assign to aesthetic vs. story, all that jazz. I don't know. they're the ones with the analytics data, so they definitely know better. and maybe that's the saddest part

#no need to apologize nonnie this is a heated subject for all of us lmao #anon #asks #negativity

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bellamyblake · 3 years ago

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hii this is really random but do u have any headcannons about bellamy growing up in the ark???

hey! it's not random at all! in fact I have written more than a few headcanons about bellamy on the ark as asks here but since i haven't done it in a while, i guess i'll do it again!

i think as a whole he was a really cute and shy kid on the ark;

before O was born, he was the sweetest little boy and he and his mom had a very special and close connection. aurora may have still been stern with him but she loved him dearly and showed him so;

that's why he later feels so much for his mom even after everything they've been through;

his dad dies before he could remember him; he's almost three years old when they float him and the only vague memory he has is of someone's big and warm hands holding him up and singing in a language he didn't understand;

he remembers feeling safe, his dad's rock hard chest and the softness of his hair, similar to his;

aurora get sad and rather depressed after her husband dies but she doesn't grow cold towards bellamy; on the contrary-because he cries so much now that he feels his dad's absence, she tries to pay more attention to him before and after work;

she reads to him every night and puts him to bed with a soft kiss as she tucks him in;

he doesn't do well in daycare; he can't make friends because he's not like the other kids-he's quiet and he likes being in his corner, trying to read books or color pictures or even play with the legos and stuffies on his own; he liked building things out of nothing, constructing but he was also very smart and could read by the age of five;

every time aurora would pick him up, he'd come rushing to her and climb up in her arms, refusing to go; she'd take him home and cook with him like this, with him strapped like a little monkey around her, resting his sweet cheek against her chest and telling her about his day;

even then she could tell he had the biggest heart already; he'd recognize she's too tired to read to him some nights, so he tried to pick up the book and do it himself; other times, he'd wake up in the middle of the night and pull her away from the table where she was sewing and tell her "Mama, go to bed." because she had fallen asleep on the chair;

he'd pick a blanket and cover her up or bring her water whenever she was feeling too weak and malnourished;

that never changed, not even later when O came around and he was forced to grow up so fast;

but what did change was that he grew much quieter and solemn;

not around Octavia, never around her-with her he bloomed and beamed like a sun rey; he'd play with her and pick her up, push her in the air or swing her on his arms even though he wasn't that much older;

he grew up years in just the span of months then-learning how to change diapers, feed her formula, make her quiet, put her to bed; he basically did everything there was;

aurora picked extra shifts to be able to support them but bellamy knew she wasn't taking being a mom a second time that well and he could recognize her coldness not as lack of love, but rather as depression and sadness;

the more octavia grew, the more he pulled away from his mom, though and she would let him; he started working part time after school and though he still wasn't the most popular kid, now for a reason, he had troubles and got in fights a couple of times, something for which she scolded him a lot cause it would mean Octavia possibly being found;

he ate less, so his sister would have more and she'd catch him swaying on his feet a couple of times, usually in the morning; there were quiet very precious moments then too usually in the morning when O was still asleep and he'd get up to help her out with her work orders and prepare food;

she'd reach out to him sometimes then, rub his shoulder or run her fingers through his curls and lean down to kiss his cheek "My boy." she'd say "We wouldn't be able to do this without you, you know?"

"I know, mama." he said but it felt like her words hurt him more than anything so she stopped doing that so often;

when he became a teenager and O grew up more, he'd go out with friends to parties now and then but never too often; he'd spent late nights and come smelling of moonshine; she said nothing-he had a right to his youth or whatever he could scrape of it;

he excelled at school and they noticed it, often praising him for it and telling Aurora she raised a smart boy which is why most of his teachers were surprised when he decided to become a guard;

"I always thought his interests lied in Earth history and English." one of his teachers told Aurora once "It's a waste of talent and resources if you're asking me. You should talk to him, Mrs. Blake." but Aurora only nodded and looked back at her son who was standing by the doorway of the little room, talking to one of his classmates;

she didn't know how to say this was all her idea; she was ashamed she didn't know her son's dreams, that he never once shared them with her;

when he began guard's training, that's when she started asking herself if she made the right choice, not because he was actually letting them brainwash him into their mentality, he was much smarter than this but because he...often came home hurt;

he passed medical but the doctor told him he's weak and malnourished so they prescribed more vitamins and rations; fruit and vegitables-things he hadn't had his whole life; he still opted to give them to O most of the time but ate some nontheless, knowing he had to get stronger;

at practice, they kicked his ass at first; he came home covered in bruises, with sprained ankles, twisted knees, dislocated shoulders;

it was when aurora remembered her son was not invincible; that he was her child and she had to take care of him too;

it was the first time since he was a boy that they rekindled that bond they had before O was born. she was often taking care of his bruised ribs, wrapping them up, putting cold cloths on his burning forehead while O, too worried for her brother, afraid that she may lose him, wrapped herself around him and fell asleep by his side even when he hurt;

at first Bellamy thought Aurora was doing it because she didn’t want him to risk his position with the guards but when he woke up one night with her still awake and sewing by his side, changing the cold cloth on his forehead and tucking him with a blanket he remembered he was not just a boy;

he was a son too;

and it was nice, it felt good to be loved, even if he still lived for everyone else and not for himself; he would talk to her at night and it’d be nice;

later on when she died and he spent that year alone in their flat, chased by his own demons, crying or drinking himself to oblivion at night, he remembered those conversations and thought how different things could’ve been...

but how wrong they actually were;

#bellamyblakeedit #the100edit #aurora blake #the blake siblings #headcanons #bellamy blake #answered

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fluffymcu · 4 years ago

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Ik you've probably been getting a lot of prompts, but I was wondering if you'd feel inspired to write this one?

So platonic Steve x reader, where she has a sticker or something stuck to the side of her shirt, and when Steve starts trying to get it off, she squirms and he notices. Then he can tell that she's trying so hard to hide the fact that she is super ticklish and he exposes her and thinks it's so cute! (And of course wrecks her)

Sorry if this is bad lol

———

“Our school is making us come up with our own glue adhesive as a school project. We have 2 weeks to turn it in and have to use these laminated papers to put the adhesive on. I’m so gonna use bits of my web formula to make the best sticker!” Peter chortled, telling everyone about his project at dinner.

You nodded with a hum, taking another bite of spaghetti. “Cool. How much have you gotten done?” You asked.

“I’ve done many samples dealing with different strengths and thicknesses. All I have to do is apply them to the papers.” He nodded.

——

The next morning you woke up extra early due to Thor coming in and asking you where the PS4 controller was at. You told him it was where you left it last but he proceeded to say it wasn’t there and made you get up and look for it with him; claiming that Korg was waiting for him to join the ps party. After that, you just decided to stay up and make yourself some coffee since you were still more than half asleep.

Once you made your mug, you lazily sipped and laid your upper body flat on the island, sighing in content at the cold feeling of the counter on your face. Just then, Steve walked in the kitchen and gave you a bright smile. “You’re up early!” He grinned, wiping off his forehead with his towel even though he was barely sweating. That man could spend hours at the gym and come out without a drop of sweat.

“Sarcastic thanks to Thor for that.” You jazzed your hands. Steve chuckled and patted your back.

“Go back to sleep then, sleepy head!”

Right as you were about to agree, Peter walked in the kitchen, overdoing his safety gear. Goggles, gloves, an apron, and even a hair net. All that for glue?

He stopped in his tracks once he saw you. “Uhh, y/n? Did you lay on my stickers?” He asked, a nervous tone is his voice. You furrowed your eyebrows and leaned up to check your side. You had indeed laid on his sticker. Your eyes widened.

“Oh, goddd.” You groaned. “Can it come off easily?”

“I mean, I did use the same components as my web formula so, I’m guessing it’ll be really... sticky?” He shrugged apologetically.

“Why were you doing your school project on the kitchen counter?” You cried.

“In my defense! None of you are up this early except Steve so I was planning to be done with this by the time you’d all be up!” He raised his hands defensively.

Steve bit his lip and stepped toward you. “Here, lemme see if I can take it off.” He said, taking a seat on the island stool and motioning for you to come close.

Since the sticker was stuck on your side, right under your armpit and on your ribs, when he began to try to pull it off, the constant scratching at it was tickling a lot. You pursed your lips and tensed up, closing your eyes and trying to steady your breaths.

“In the mean time, I’ll go see if I can find my web dissolving solution. Hopefully that could help!” Peter said, running up to his little mini lab Tony made for him.

“Why didn’t he just do his experiment in his lab?” Steve chuckled. You shook your head along with him.

“But have you seen his lab? It’s a mess. I’d be surprised if he’d actually be able to find that solution in that pile of storage boxes.” You sighed, jerking a bit when he started to scratch harder.

Steve smirked as he quickly realized what he was doing. He’s seen Bucky tickle you sometimes to tease you and he’s seen that he usually targets your ribs and gets a big reaction. He found it cute. “Am I hurting you?” He asked, pausing what he was doing. You shook your head quickly.

“No. Just- no.” You shrugged, hating yourself for not being able to think of a good excuse. Steve nodded, hiding his smirk while continuing to pry at the sticker. It was so hard to keep your arm up!

After a minute you felt his thumb scratch at your lower rib which made you pull your arm down out of reflex. “Woah, you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah I’m great! Just... umm maybe I can try to take it off myself.” You said, trying to walk away but Steve gently grabbed your arm.

“Hang on, it’s ok. No need to get frustrated or impatient. Let me help you. Peter should be here with the solution soon if this doesn’t work.” He said. You sighed and lifted you arm again, letting him try to peel it off.

A few moments passed of you trying to desperately hold in your laughter and keep your arm up. Steve has smirking behind you, knowing how hard you were trying. Finally, he spoke up.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing, y/n/n? You’re hiding your laughter.” He teased, smiling widely when you turned to look at him with slightly wide eyes. “Yeah, honey. I know you’re ticklish.” Right then, he pounced, pulling you to his chest and instantly pinching all around your waistline, chuckling as you let out your laughter. “Thaaat’s it. Let those little giggles aaaall out.” He grinned, laughing when you threw your head back on his shoulder.

“STAHAHAHAP!” You cried, trying to escape from the super soldier’s grasp. But he had you caged against him and basically sitting on his lap. You were done for.

“But this is too cute! Look at you giggling your worries away, I bet you’ve forgotten about the sticker already, yeah?” He teased, blowing a raspberry on your neck, making you scream.

“AHH! HAHAHAHA WHO TOHOHOLD YOU I WAHAHAS TICK- HAH! TICK- HAHAHA!! STEHEHEHEVE!” You squealed, kicking out your legs.

“Yes, y/n?” He sang, wiggling his finger in your belly button. You arched your back with a squeal and fell into silent laughter. Steve took it as a sigh to let you breathe and let you go. You went limp in his arms and panted, a smile on your face and letting out residual giggles. Steve held you close to him with a smile and gently rocked you. “Your laugh is adorable, y/n.” He smiled.

You groaned in embarrassment and turned a bit to hide your face on his shoulder. “You’ve heard it beforeee.” You grumbled.

“Yeah, but not like this!” He whined, mimicking your tone and pinching your hip, causing you to flinch with a giggle.

“Hey guys, I found the solution!” Peter squealed, running down the stairs. “I got it! This can probably take it off!”

“Probably?? Peter with what I just endured, it better work. I wanna get out of here and go back to bed.” You sighed tiredly.

“What did you endure?” He asked. You hummed in thought, hesitating to answer. He smirked. “Just kidding. I heard you from upstairs.” He said cheekily.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you felt heat flush through your cheeks, making Steve chuckle.

“Just put on the damn solution.”

——-

#ticklish!reader #tickle fight #tickle fic #avengers tickle #marvel tickle #tickle fluff #avengers #marvel #marvel mcu #peter parker #bucky barnes #peter x reader #peter parker x reader #steve rogers #steve tickles reader #steve x reader

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the-iceni-bitch · 4 years ago

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I’m Going to Take Care of You

Pairing: Thor/Fem-Reader

Words: 3502

Summary: A fun night out with the Avengers makes you realize you want something more from you friendship with Thor.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, size kink adjacent, fluff, SMUT, 18+

A/N: Whoo, I managed to keep it under 4000 words this time y’all. I loved writing Thor though. He’s such a sweetheart and really treats our reader right! Please enjoy and message if you want to be added to my permanent tags list!

“I got shots, bitches!!”

You set your carefully balanced tray on the table in the middle of everyone and started distributing tiny glasses around, grinning around the table as you did so.

“Goddamn it, Y/N. You and Nat are trying to kill us” Clint groaned as he took his shot from you and looked at it like he was about to throw up.

“Suck it up Barton.” Tony scolded. “These girls are out drinking us and refuse to black out before they do. Knock it back.”

You made sure everyone got a glass before taking one for yourself and settling back on the couch.

Nat downed hers easily and gave you a knowing grin once the taste hit her tongue. Clint, Tony, and Sam tossed theirs back together and immediately started spluttering and coughing. Steve paused before bringing his glass to his lips when he saw their reaction.

“Son of a bitch, what the fuck is this?” Tony exclaimed, grabbing a glass of water and chugging it as Clint headed to the bathroom, looking like he was going to hurl. Nat clapped her hand against Sam’s back as he tried to get a hold of himself. Steve was just looking at his shot with abject horror.

“We’re in Oslo so I got us Aquavit!” You grinned at Tony as he stared at you murderously. “Oh, my god Rogers, suck it up and drink it, it’s not going to kill you.”

Steve gave a shrug and chugged it, sucking air through his teeth and wincing as he swallowed. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’ve told you a million times, Y/N, you’re the only one who can drink that shit.” Nat laughed at you as Sam waved her off, his coughing fit finally ending.

“You’re all just pussies. Where the fuck is Thor? He always appreciates new liquor.” You searched the club for that giant golden retriever of a man before you heard his deep voice behind you.

“Is that more liquor? Excellent!” he exclaimed as you turned yourself around to give him a grin and handed him the last shot. He threw it back without hesitation and gave an appreciative nod. “What is this delicious nectar? We should get a bottle.”

“Thank you, sweetie.” You said, giving the rest of the group an exasperated look as you headed over to the bar, and returned with a full bottle of the spicy liquor and two clean highball glasses. You poured yourself and Thor two hefty portions and sat beside him on the couch.

“You two are insane.” Tony said, shaking his head as you tossed your drinks back and poured two more. “How are you still standing, Y/N? You’ve had almost as much to drink as a literal god!”

You just laughed at him giddily. You were pretty drunk at this point, but there was no way you were going to let anyone outdrink you tonight, you wanted to let go.

You had just finished your fifth mission with the Avengers. You had been apprehensive when you first moved onto the compound six months ago. You of course already know Nat and Clint, but it was a tight knit group, and you sometimes felt like a spare tire.

You spent most of the first few weeks in the lab, working on your serums and formulas, doing calculations into the small hours of the morning. Tony did his best to engage you, but you both only had the most basic understandings of each other’s fields. You did develop a healthy respect for each other during that time though, and you started to feel more at home.

Nat had finally convinced you to join the rest of the team for a workout after you had been there for a month. You were concerned about losing yourself and accidentally injuring someone, but Nat almost shoved you onto the mat to square up against Steve. She sat there with a smirk as the group watched him chase you around the mat, growing more and more frustrated as you slid out of his reach over and over. When you accidentally threw him into the ceiling one handed, you were sure they were going to shut you out. But Thor started laughing hysterically as the rest of them started teasing Rogers, and just like that, you were one of the group.

Thor and you bonded the most for some reason. You made each other laugh constantly, and being able to complain about your crazy families with someone else was a relief. You’d often stay up late together watching stupid movies or drinking some new liquor or beer you had discovered. He had once mentioned that he missed the tasted of mead, and the next day you surprised him with several large bottles you had gotten from a friend who brewed it on his property upstate. Sometimes when you got drunk enough, he’d let you braid his hair in intricate styles, not feeling an ounce of embarrassment when Tony would give him shit the next morning.

You became sparring partners as he was the only member of the team who could actually get you in a hold, and that translated well to you partnering on missions.

This latest one had been a doozy, busting an arms dealing ring that was suspected of distributing old HYDRA equipment. It was a success overall but had been exhausting. Nat and you always did your best to come up with some sort of morale booster after a mission and you somehow had convinced the team that a night of clubbing in downtown Oslo would be just the thing.

“Aww shit, is this Ghostface Killah?” You asked the room as a new song started. “This is my song! Let’s dance!”

“Girl, you have the best taste in music.” Sam said as he followed you onto the dance floor while Nat tried to coax Steve and Tony to join you. Thor tossed back his drink and strode after you.

The Norse God was a surprisingly good dancer. He didn’t seem to have the hangups you noticed from most white guys about their movements.

“This is a good song!” He shouted at you over the music “It reminds me of ‘Krakemal’.”

You had no idea what he was talking about so you just grinned at him as you whipped your hair around and swung your hips, losing yourself in the music. You loved dancing.

The song ended too soon and Tony came to let everyone know that Clint had finally stopped vomiting and the group was going to head back to the safehouse. Thor threw you over his shoulder as you headed out the door, making you squeal as he gave your ass a playful slap, not putting you down until you were walking down the street. He grinned down at you and started telling you a story about a snake. You were staring at him, breathless and giddy from the alcohol and you laughed when his story reached its conclusion, suddenly realizing that you were going to sleep with him.

He walked forward to chat with Steve and Nat put her arm through yours to chat.

“Sooooo…” she said slyly. “What’s going on with you and Point Break?”

“Oh god, Nat. I’m pretty sure I’m going to let him fuck me tonight.”

She laughed at that, tossing her head back. “Jesus Christ, it’s about time!”

You slapped her arm lightly and told her to shut up.

“You couldn’t have come to this realization a little earlier, Y/N? Now Tony’s going to win the bet!”

“Fuck, you perverts bet on when me and Thor would sleep together? Was anyone else in on this?”

“I mean, it was just me and Clint to start off then Tony found out and looped in the rest of team into it. He made a spreadsheet and everything. Rogers took some serious convincing. That big puppy thought it was ‘inappropriate and mean-spirited.’ Of course, then he walked in on one of your sparring sessions where you let yourself get pinned by that himbo a little longer than necessary and turned over his money with no problem.”

“Great. You guys are such good friends.” You said sarcastically.

“Not our fault you two idiots don’t have the emotional intelligence to just get to it. I’ve gotta tell the rest of the team to make sure you guys have some privacy.”

You hissed and tried to grab her as she scampered away to talk to Tony, who turned back and gave you a thumbs up and massive grin. You slapped your palm into your face and rubbed your thumb and forefinger into the ridges above your eyebrows.

“So, Natasha told me I should come back here and talk to you. She wouldn’t tell me what about and just laughed when I asked.” Thor had a look of slight confusion on his face as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, pulling the bottom edge of his shirt up enough to expose the top of his boxer briefs and give you a glimpse at his happy trail. You felt yourself clench and fought the urge to moan.

You arrived back at the safehouse then, and Tony and Natasha did their best to usher everyone upstairs discreetly. She gave you a wink as she followed behind Steve at the back of the group and disappeared from view.

“So, more drinks?” Thor clapped his hands and rubbed them together, heading into the kitchen as he shed his coat.

“God, yes!” You followed him, removing your own coat and tossing it onto the couch. You had no idea how to approach this without making things painfully awkward.

He found an opened bottle of mead and poured you each a glass, leaning back against the counter as he sipped at the sweet liquor.

You peered at him over the edge of your glass as you contemplated your next move. His plain white tee was just tight enough that you could see the shape of the muscles in his torso. His arms were crossed, making his thick arms flex deliciously. You wanted to take a bite out of his bicep. You moved your eyes back up to his face and found him staring back at you. Neither of you said anything as you gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Fuck it.” You said, tossing back the rest of your drink and setting the empty glass on the counter before you took three steps forward and pressed the front of you body into him, pulling his face down to yours and kissing him hungrily.

You felt his posture change as he set his own glass behind him before grabbing your hips and drawing you even closer to him. You felt his cock starting to harden through his jeans and you let out a moan. He growled softly into your mouth before bringing one hand up to the back of your neck and drawing you away from him briefly as he studied your face.

“How drunk are you, Y/N?” he asked, a look of concern on his face.

Your inebriation had faded on the walk home and that kiss had sobered you up considerably. “Just buzzed.” You told him, breathlessly.

“Good.”

He didn’t say anything else, just put a hand on your ass and lifted you to wrap your legs around him as kissed your neck, scraping his teeth along your collarbone.

“God, keep doing that.” You said, twisting your hands into the back of his tee as he dipped his tongue into the hollow of your throat.

He gave a low hum against your neck and you felt it resound in your core, a rush of arousal soaking your panties as you felt your cunt throb with desire.

“Not gonna make it to the couch.” He whispered into your neck, sucking softly and raising a small bruise.

“Fine.” You couldn’t focus on anything, his mouth was so good and felt like it was leaving a trail of fire wherever it met your skin.

He moved forward and lowered you onto the counter gently. He brought his mouth back up to yours and kissed you softly as he moved his hands from your hips to the buttons of your blouse. He started undoing them slowly, his thick fingers moving nimbly down the front of your torso. Once it was fully open, he slid the blouse down your shoulders and discarded it to the side.

He brought his large palms up to your breasts and kneaded them gently. You groaned into his mouth and drew him closer to you with your legs, forcing the hem of your skirt up around your waist. You ground yourself into the front of his jeans desperately.

His fingers found the clasp at the front of your bra and unhooked it as he brought his mouth down to your breasts. He pressed the flat of his tongue against one nipple before swirling his tongue around it and sucking on it softly, making you gasp.

“Fuck, just like that baby.” You scrabbled your fingers over his back as he mouthed at your breast and drew his shirt over his head. He broke his contact with your skin for just a moment to throw the tee somewhere else, then moved his attention to your other breast, laving his tongue over the nipple slowly and making your pussy clench so hard it was aching.

“Shit, Thor, I need you.” You whined at him, clenching your thighs around his hips, trying to get some sort of friction to relieve the tension you were feeling in your core.

“I need to make sure you’re ready for me, beautiful. Don’t you trust me?”

“Mmmmm, yes!” you gasped as one of his hands moved your panties aside and he brushed his fingers against your folds, making you twitch.

“Oh, good girl. I just want to make you feel good, sweetheart.” He swirled one finger through the arousal at your entrance before inserting it at a deliciously slow pace.

You clenched around him immediately, letting out a whimper as he started moving it in and out of you slowly, stretching you from the inside a little further each time before adding another finger.

Your breath hitched and you tried to buck your hips into him but his other hand moved to press against your abdomen, pinning you to the counter.

His face came back up to yours as his fingers flexed inside of you. He brushed a soft kiss against your lips as you swallowed a moan.

“I know pretty girl, but you’re going to be happy I’m taking my time in a few minutes.” His third finger slipped into you as he gave you another kiss before he moved his face between your legs.

You did your best to keep from screaming when his tongue found your clit and started drawing soft circles over the tiny bundle of nerves. He curved his fingers inside you and pressed them against your sweet spot before he stretched you even further by adding a fourth finger.

You bit your lip so hard you drew blood. His tongue had increased in pressure and speed while his fingers stretched you so good. When he started sucking you lost it. You let out a thin wail as your body went rigid with pleasure, releasing to make every muscle tremble. He kept his fingers fucking into you at a steady rhythm as you rode it out. He removed them once you had finished and you let out a groan at the feeling of emptiness.

He smiled up at you before giving your pussy a kiss and standing up, releasing his hold on your abdomen. “I think you’re ready now gorgeous.” He murmured around a grin.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him as he drew your soaked panties down your legs and threw them to the side with the rest of your clothes. He then unzipped your skirt and added it to the pile before he moved his fingers to the fly of his jeans.

You felt your pussy clench as he drew the zipper down slowly and you stared at him through your lashes darkly. He bent over briefly to remove his pants and underwear and when he stood up, all the air rushed out of you as you understood his insistence on preparation.

He had the biggest cock you had ever seen. It was almost as thick as your wrist and quite a bit longer than the span of your hand. Your mouth filled with saliva as he gave it a few pumps and stepped closer to you, dragging it through your slick folds to coat it in your arousal.

“I’m going to go slow, love. You promise to let me know if it’s too much?”

You bit your lip as you nodded at him, not trusting the integrity of your vocal cords at the moment.

He bent forward over you and gave you a gentle kiss as he breached you with just his tip and you let out a sigh. He drew his hips back slowly before moving into you a little further. He continued this slow pace, pulling out just a bit and before breaching you further, waiting to feel you stretch and relax around him before he pushed into you more.

It seemed like forever before his hips were flush against yours and you were stretched around the whole length of him. You had never felt so deliciously full and you let out a low moan to let him know how good you felt.

“You’re doing so good baby.” He whispered to you and you couldn’t help giving him a wide grin that he returned. “I’m going to move, now, ok?”

“Fuck, yes please.” You whimpered as his hips started to move.

He kept his mouth on yours as he picked up the pace, exploring every inch of your mouth with his tongue. You tangled your hands into his hair and snapped your hips to meet his thrusts, the only sounds your soft moans, the slap of flesh on flesh, and the obscene wet sucking sounds your pussy was making as his cock thrust in and out of you.

You felt your pleasure starting to coil in your core and you cried softly into his mouth, urging him on as he moved one hand between the two of you to work your clit.

You came around him suddenly, every muscle in your body vibrating as the biggest orgasm you’d ever had ripped through you body. You had to bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming, and he growled into your ear as his paced picked up even more.

He drew your knees up to your shoulders as he kept thrusting into you. The change in position was too much for your overworked clit and you came again immediately, tears leaking down your cheeks as you tried your best to be quiet.

He saw the tears and started to slow down, a look of concern written all over his face, until you hissed at him.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

He gave you a grunt that may have been a laugh and rotated your legs to your right side, the twist in your spine arching you so your chest pressed up into his, the coarse hair dusting him rubbing against your sensitive nipples and making you whine.

You felt yourself building again and you dropped your head back against the counter, preparing yourself. Thor’s hips started to stutter as your final orgasm wracked you, and he released right behind you as you twitched and fluttered around him. He bent back down to kiss you, his long hair brushing against your chest.

You opened up to him and let his tongue run against yours gently as he slowly pulled out of you, leaving you with a soft ache between your legs.

“How you feeling sweetheart?” He asked you, one hand cupped against your cheek as he watched your face, wanting to be sure he hadn’t hurt you.

“God, that was amazing.” You grinned at him, groaning as you stretched underneath him, knowing you were going to be stiff and sore tomorrow.

He gave you a swift kiss before scooping you off the counter and wrapping you around his torso. You nuzzled yourself into his neck as he started to carry you upstairs.

“Let’s get you a bath, beautiful. Make sure you’ll be able to walk in the morning.”

You laughed softly against his skin. “Mmmm, baby you know just what I need.”

“Of course I do, Y/N.” He looked into your eyes, a serious expression on his face. “I’m going to take care of you.”

You couldn’t express how happy that made you so you just hummed against his shoulder as he kicked open the door to the bathroom. You didn’t even care that you had left your discarded clothes downstairs for poor Steve to find when he woke up for his morning run.

Permanent Tags:

@drabblewithfrannybarnes

#thor x you #thor x reader #thor odinson #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #marvel fanfiction #reader insert #smut #chris hemsworth

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iconic-ponytail · 4 years ago

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there's always money in the banana stand

riverdale promptathon week 3: yellow + business

Even as the sun sets, even as the breeze blows, the hell furnace of July in Riverdale burns on. It’s triply as sweltering inside the tiny booth running three freezers, offloading heat to sustain the frozen merchandise inside. “How can it be so hot in there when we are supposed to be selling frozen bananas?” JB complains, at least twice a week.

She’s twelve. Complaint is her new first language. She complains about being left in Riverdale while Gladys went back to Toledo. She complains about living in a trailer park that usually does not have warm water. She complains about their father being imprisoned for covering up a gruesome murder. But most of all, she complains about working in the banana stand.

Child labor laws aside, Jughead can’t blame her for that one. He hates the damn banana stand, but it’s their best shot.

Gladys’ monthly check covers rent and utilities for the trailer. Everything else is on him, now. The idiot eighteen year old who decided to petition the court to be his sister’s legal guardian. Well, and his idiot mom who signed off on it. So he needs money, and the Jones family has never been particularly flush with cash, just trampled over by FP’s failed “business opportunities.”

Enter: the banana stand.

It’s not the fastest revenue stream, Jughead finds. But it’s got potential.

Initially, Dilton doesn’t let him sell during the Twilight Drive-In’s concession stand hours. Before or after the movie, sure, but no overlap. “I’m not worried about competition, Jones. It’s just too humiliating for me to watch you sweat through that horrible yellow polo you call ‘branding.’”

But when customers asked him more than twice a night when the banana stand would be open, Dilton caved.

It’s not like being open during the screening hours is a whole lot more preferable. He only just transferred from Southside to Riverdale High last spring; now he’s the rising senior who hands out phallic symbols from inside a giant phallic symbol. Not exactly a boon to his popularity.

Still, recently the money is enough to pay the internet bill and keep JB fed for dinner when she can’t go to the summer breakfast and lunch program at the local park district. It’s still not enough for him to eat particularly well, and the smell of hot dogs and slurp of his classmates’ slushies makes the heat feel like a minor inconvenience.

He eyes the tip jar, willing himself to wait on rampaging the concession stand until the beginning of the film roar dies down. It’s a double feature tonight, which means maybe he can score enough cash to cover those damn college application fees his counselor will start hounding him about week one of school.

Then he sees her—Betty Cooper. She’s laughing, watching Archie Andrews try to catch popcorn in his mouth, tossed by his paramour, Veronica Lodge. She pauses to sip from her slushie straw, her lips—which he’s watched argue against homophobic and racist comments in their advanced lit class, or pressed to the cheek of her other best friend, Kevin Keller. Which he’s imagined, doing slightly less savory things, though the mere thought of said imagining has his heart pounding wildly.

(Jughead’s been eating way too many fucking bananas. Someone needs to check his potassium levels.)

His absolutely pathetic gaze, once available three times a day in their shared classes where Jughead has still not managed to exert any confidence whatsoever regarding speech, eye contact, or general acknowledgement of Betty Cooper’s existence other than whatever drooling may or may not be happening, all of which he finds he has no control over… is all interrupted by the absolute polar opposite of Betty Cooper. Hiram Lodge zooms up to the banana stand on his segway, angling to a stop just before taking out the stand’s foundation.

“Still getting a hang of that, Mayor Lodge?”

Hiram grimaces. “Just checking that you’ve renewed your business permit, Jones.”

They do this once a week. It’s still the same permit.

“You know,” Hiram starts as Jughead rustles for the paperwork to make him go the fuck away, “I could find you an arrangement with a better banana supplier. For a discount. If you’re interested.”

Jughead rolls his eyes. “I’m not interested in your GMO, black market bananas, Hiram.”

Hiram gives him a pointed look. Jughead rolls his eyes even harder. “Mayor Lodge.” He proffers the papers, Hiram waves them away. “I’ll take one chocolate peanut butter dip. With peanuts.”

Jughead kisses his teeth. “That will be $3.50.”

Hiram’s whole face goes serpentine. “Not between business partners, Jones. Put it on my tab.”

Jughead grits his teeth, handing the finished banana so aggressively he hopes that the chocolate splatters and stains Hiram’s $500 tie. It is only slightly worth it to watch Hiram struggle with navigating the segway one-handed, frozen banana in the other.

He muffles a chuckle before realizing he’s used the dead end of the chopped peanut topping, and exits the stand to update the order board hanging on the outside. It’s mostly an excuse to feel a ten degree drop in temperature, a sweet relief he might be able to extend by grabbing a hot dog before the intermission rush.

He’s crossing off peanuts from the topping list and spinning around when he hears a shriek and a sudden, cold slosh across his chest. The yellow polo drips with artificial blue slushie, but Jughead swallows his fucking hell when he sees that the shriek, gaping stare of horror, and stumble in question all belong to his very own blonde kryptonite.

“Oh my god. Oh my GOD, jesus, shit, I’m so sorry!”

Jughead is frozen while Betty grabs about half his napkin dispenser and starts pawing at his shirt in a vain attempt to right the giant sticky blue mess all over his chest.

Finally, Jughead swallows the golf ball in his throat and chokes out. “Honestly, it’s fine. That stand is a sauna. I needed that.”

Betty stops, both her blotting and her stream of apologizing (which includes a fair bit of cursing, and he is a little revolted with himself by how much this turns him on).

“It’s going to get very sticky, soon. Maybe I should buy a bottle of cold water?”

Jughead can’t help himself. “Oh, impromptu yellow t-shirt contest?”

Betty grins.

I did that.

“Do you have any employees who could bring you another shirt?”

Jughead shakes his head. “Just my sister. She’s playing video games at home. There’s no earthly way she’ll bring me a spare.”

Betty cocks her head. “I had a feeling you were more than the silent back row kind of guy.”

The fact that Betty Cooper has, at any point, considered what kind of guy he is triggers full-on nervous blathering. “I’m usually very tired at school. I have this little sister—but I’m kind of um, her guardian. So I’m doing this stupid banana stand thing because it’s like one of the three assets to our entire family name I guess? Anyway, it’s hard to engage with Haggly’s basic discussion questions at eight in the morning when you spent the whole night dreaming about wholesale banana margins.”

He’s essentially vomiting words, but Betty is still smiling.

“Anyway, I should crawl back into my fruit-shaped purgatory and let you go back to your friends.”

She’s biting her lip, hedging. “Honestly, they’re probably using the alone time to make out in the car, and I’d rather let them get all their sexual tension out so that I don’t have to feel it radiating off of them for the whole second half of the double feature.”

Jughead laughs and tamps down the impulse to offer her a frozen banana, because he cannot possibly say something like that without making it sound sexual.

“What are frozen banana profit margins like, anyway?” Betty asks, either genuinely interested or legitimately flirting with him. Jughead finds both potentials baffling.

Jughead hesitates, then ducks inside the stand, pulling out his spiral bound notebook. “I’m still kind of figuring it out. All my records are in here.”

Betty sidles up to the stand, taking up the whole window. They’re both leaning over the scribbled line items on college ruled paper; he can smell her shampoo. She takes the notebook, scanning thoroughly.

“Do you have a pencil?”

He hands her one and observes her going to work, writing out some algebraic formula and calculating quickly in her head. There is a calculator within his reach, but he thinks handing it to her might come off as an insult. (Jughead wouldn’t know; he assumes Betty is in an advanced math class. Jughead is not.)

After a few minutes of watching her devoted focus, thinking about her hands touching his pencil, thinking about her hands wrapped around his hand, or his—

“I don’t know how to tell this to you, Jug.”

The shortening of his name stops his heart for a jolt, and his response is embarrassingly delayed. “What is it?”

Betty winces but smiles through it, a combination she’s surely learned to use when delivering bad news. It’s well earned, it really does soften the blow.

“There’s no money in the banana stand. At least, not with these margins.”

Jughead finds himself less than devastated by this news, mostly because it makes a hell of a lot of sense. The messenger doesn’t hurt, either.

“But,” she interrupts. “I don’t know if you’ve nailed down your course load for senior year. But I’m taking AP Econ? This could be, um, a good project. Like, if you want to take the class. Or even if you don’t. Not that you’re like a project or… whatever. I’m just saying we could figure it out. Make lemonade out of… bananas.”

Betty Cooper is extremely cute when she stammers.

Jughead doesn’t know what to do, so he gives her an easy out. “I can’t like, hire you, if that wasn’t obvious by the whole… deficit spending or whatever the whole negative circled number at the bottom of the page really means.”

She flushes. “No, that would be highway robbery. I just thought there might be an… opportunity. For um, us. I mean, for you and I. I mean—” she clears her throat, as if it’s closing up. “An academic opportunity. Or, in your case, professional. Well, a betterment of your livelihood. Okay, um, shit, just… I should go!”

She turns away, her face the deepest scarlet he’s ever seen.

“Betty, wait.”

She pivots back, eyes down at the ground.

“How about I buy you a new slushie and you come back into the booth. Tell me everything I’m doing wrong for the rest of the night.”

Betty looks up, biting the corner of her smile. “Sounds like a deal.”

They shake on it.

#this is unhinged but i had to ok #I HAD TO #riverdalepromptathon #riverdale fanfiction #bughead fanfiction #riverdalepromptathonweek3

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tobi-momo · 4 years ago

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"The Setter's Help" Chapter 7

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x Volleyball player!reader

Synopsis: With a big game coming up, the confidence in your setting has gone down significantly. Knowing the setter on the Karasuno boy’s volleyball club is good at what he does, you ask him for help. Will he help you build your confidence and skills or will he just tear it down more?

Genre: Romance, fluff, some crack, angst, hurt/comfort

Chapter Warnings: Cursing, angst, physical violence (?) (not much if any), lmk if more

Word Count: 1.9k

Taglist is Open!!

“Kageyama!” A loud shout could be heard from outside the storage room where Kageyama had been sitting for the past two hours. Suddenly the blank white wall had the memories of his happenings with you covering it. Every time he looked back at himself, the emotion he saw behind his face said everything he wanted to. “You’re really pretty today”, “do you want to hang out?”, “You’re amazing at volleyball”, “I like you”.

“Kageyama!”

The yelling had become clearer, he regarded. His eardrums pick up the sounds of his name, although his eyes still never peeled from the partition. Only when the collar of his shirt was pulled and tugged on and his body being lifted off the chair did he look away, his brain finally responding to its messages.

“You’re such an asshole! Do you know what you did to her? She hasn’t stopped crying! She liked you! And you messed this up! How could you? What did she do to you?!”

It seemed as if Hinata has snapped, Kageyama notes. It’s not that he didn’t care, but the energy that he had in his body to keep fighting and defending himself had almost drained out.

I know, I know, I know.

All he could do was listen, silently scream at how he hurt you, how he damaged your self-esteem, and tore your view of yourself. He knew you looked up to him as both a mentor and a person, and he knew that you wanted to be just like him in terms of volleyball. The event that had occurred just about three hours ago had carved into his brain and embedded itself there, resulting in a headache that he thought he deserved. As his friend throws him around with his fist, his head wobbling and his teeth gritting at the reality of it all, he groans.

“She was good for you!” I know. “She just wanted your help!” I know. “Why did you mess it up?!”

“I don’t know!”

Hinata’s eyes widen dramatically when he heard Kageyama’s voice bleed through the air, his arm loosening a bit and lowering Kageyama’s figure down towards the chair. He looked distressed, Hinata noticed. It was obvious he was arguing with himself, his breath shaking as his chest heaves, his hands balled up into fists yet not having the energy to put them up and use them. His furrowed, frustrated eyebrows that guide his angry eyes when he stares at the floor, too ashamed to look up towards the man counting on him the most. It may have been the humid room, but his eyes felt hot, wet. His head felt sore, tired. But what could he do now, instead of just laying there in guilt and shame, constantly thinking about the way you grew scared of him once he stood up to you, or when you were sobbing and shaking into Kiyoko’s chest as she held you close.

Silence overcame the room; a dark, frozen occurrence in time that was only interrupted by a couple of sniffles as Kageyama tries to pick himself up. He brushed himself off as he stood straight up, a shadow overcasting the top half of his face when his hair sways in front.

“You better fix this,” Hinata mumbles. “Even I can see she’s too good for you.”

“Yeah. I know.”

~.~.~.~

Giving you time was one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. Watching you walk past him in the hallways and avoid looking at him during class. Every time he tried to stop you in the hallway to talk or say your name to grasp just a sliver of your attention, you do the opposite. You never looked at him once. A concentrated, determined look on your face as you stare at the piece of paper beneath you, your fingers fidgeting with the pen you hold.

The cap resides on your lips while you write down a new formula. His eyes carefully trail the way your mouth wraps around the lid, focused pupils darting to the different details your lips display, them blowing out when you move them, your hand slipping the cap out from your lips. He let his mind get distracted for a little bit while he thinks about how soft your lips would be against his.

“Oi,” Hinata whisper-yells at the man who stares at your mouth. He hesitantly turns around, a blank expression hugging his face while he looks at the ginger. “Stop looking at her like that, you look creepy,” he whispers as he leans upon his desk to give the message properly.

“What? No, I don’t,” Kageyama tries to defend, only his volume a little louder than intended.

“We get it, you like her, but take it slow, remember? No one wants to see you drool over her eating her pencil.”

“She isn’t-” he sighs, turning back around and sitting in his chair properly, “whatever,” he grumbles.

Once the bell rang, he only caught your eye once before you darted out of the class. Dammit, he thought.

“Hey, Y/n,” he called, only to be ignored by your leave as you exit the classroom.

He hated that. He kept seeing your body disappear over and over again and he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take watching your back vanish around the corner of the white walls any longer, but his brain ached when it yelled at him to just leave you alone. It was hard, he had to stop himself from taking another step, but his foot halted and he was left alone in the empty hallway while you storm away with no regard.

~.~.~.~

The minute practice rolled around an anxious feeling wrapped around his nerves, suffocating them and telling him to worry and be anxious. It created a pit in his stomach that he wasn’t able to shake, a nervousness that he wasn’t able to identify as he enters the silent gym. Well, silent now that he was present. All murmurs and small-talk came to a stop, all eyes turning to face him while the metal doors clang shut.

Well. This was awkward.

“C’mon! Let’s get to practice, y’all! What’s up with everyone?” Coach Ukai shouts in question with his arms in the air, hoping to clear the dread for a slow second. He chuckles dryly when the humming and mumbling continues, all except two volleyball club members grabbing a ball out of one of the available carts. He gives a double-take to two standing boys by the entrance of the gym, jogging towards them when they don’t move after a moment. “What are you guys doin’? What’s going on with everyone?”

“Well,” Hinata speaks up, a hand scratching his neck as Kageyama takes a step back, scared. “Something happened yesterday and… let’s just say the club isn’t too happy with Kageyama-kun over here.” He tries to laugh it off, but the evidence in Kageyama’s fearful eyes proved that this was, indeed, a serious matter, so Ukai’s face didn’t do anything but display shock and concern.

“Hinata,” he calls, walking off as he uses his pointer finger as a gesture to make the boy come over. He complies, speed walking with his arms sticking out the sides, while Kageyama just stands at the back of the gym, trying his best to ignore the stares of judgment- the ones of Tsukishima and Tanaka, of course. He couldn’t tell if they were glaring at him out of sport or if they were actually mad, but the way his eyes strayed to the polished floors was enough to say they still affected him.

“Yes, Coach?”

The man leans down towards the teenager while looking at the lonely player in the corner, a brow quirked up in question as he asks, “Why is he acting like that?”

Hinata raises his arm to point when he says, “I jus-”

“No, I know what you told me, but what happened. This is not how the team usually is, have you seen the third year’s?” He points out the three men on the court, Hinata taking a quick glance at them grumbling incoherent nonsense to themselves.

“Uh… well,” he tries to explain, putting his pointer fingers together for comfort. “Do you know of Y/n?”

“Mhm, I know of the girl. Girls’ Volleyball Team, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s her. Anyways, Her and Kageyama-”

“Wait, a minute. Are you telling me what I think you’re about to tell me?” He questions with a whisper louder than he intended, although thankfully earning no quizzical looks as he quiets down.

“No, no, no. Well-”

“Are you serious?”

“No! Okay, okay, so basically what happened was he was helping her train for a game she’s excited for,” Hinata continued his explanation, both the ginger’s and Ukai’s head’s turned towards the dark-haired teenager as they talked under their breaths about what had happened. Hinata could see in his peripheral vision the way the blond’s eyes blew open in surprise.

“Kageyama-” he pauses, taking a breath, “Kageyama Tobio,” he clarifies, not believing his ears, “did that to Y/n?”

The ginger only nodded his head, guilty. “Yeah…”

“Oi! Kageyama!” The older man calls the lonely setter his way, the teenager hesitating for a moment before following directions. “Are you dumb or something?”

“What?”

“You heard me!” He keeps his voice at a low whisper, although the striking frustration in his voice does not falter to make Kageyama take a step back in utter shock. “Why the hell would you do that to a nice girl like Y/n? There could be no possible reason other than you being stupid!”

“Coach, I think-”

“Get to practice, both of you! And stop torturing girls like that!” He waves them both off, shoving them away with annoyance. They stumble off, not hearing Ukai mutter, “Dumbasses,” under his breath.

~.~.~.~

You weren’t there. You never showed. The empty gym rang with silence as the dust particles clashed with the windows and the benches, only showing themselves when strings of light bled through the clear panes. He could only sigh, as this was half expected of you, which he had come to the conclusion that that was valid as he closed the gym doors before heading home.

It was like that the next day as well, and the next; Kageyama has no idea why he keeps bothering to show up anymore. Whenever he had texted you politely that he was on the court waiting for you, the message switched from Delivered to Opened in less than two minutes, leaving him to assume that you knew you were doing this to him.

While he picks up his volleyball bag for the last time that night, he walks home with a conflicted expression. Should he keep waiting for you? Or should he stop? You had to come around one of these days, you were crazy about this game, you practically begged him to help you, and even if he wasn’t your mentor anymore, you stay at home doing nothing?

He stopped his thoughts from pursuing- he knew not to call you lazy, because he knew he would be wrong. You were determined, you had a goal. It just irritated him that he was the one to mess it up for you.

That’s it. He won’t do that anymore. He won’t mess it up. He knows you can do amazing on your own anyways, you never really needed him. His time helping you is over.

a/n: hi sorry its been so fucking long ive been having a lot of trouble not only with this chapter but with home things too, so im really sorry aljsdasld buut!! its almost over! one more chapter then an epilogue then The Setter's Help is over! thats so weird honestly but im super happy you guys tagged along! thank you!this is me trying to redeem kageyama, and redemption plots are hard for me so i apologize lasjdkas

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joontier · 4 years ago

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Parallel Palpitations | V1; report i

pairings: dr. park jimin x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: romance, slice of life, humor

warnings: none to note

word count: 2k

g/n: this is just an intro basically ksjdfksjdf but i’d also like to inform yalls this coincides with the Subliminal in Scrubs universe (jk’s installment of TWA)

Parallel Palpitations (the records) | navi. | m.list

Closing his locker with his foot, Jimin tries to carefully balance his books placed precariously on top of each other in his arms as he walks back to the dean’s office where he’s also arranging most of his stuff to take home. It’s already been a week since he’d officially graduated medicine from Busan National University, and he had only kept going back to school to gather all his belongings so he could start reviewing.

“Jimin, is that you?” The question almost knocks clumsy Jimin off his feet, surprised at how there was still any other person in the office besides Kyungjo who was also collecting his stuff to take home. Jimin sets all of his books down first on a desk and turns, only to come face to face with none other than Jeon Jungmin himself, associate professor and chairman of the Jeon Medical Center.

“Professor Jeon! Good evening Sir...It’s already late, professor?”

Jeon Jungmin laughs, patting Jimin on the back, “I was going to say the same to you kid. You should go home.” Jimin flashes the older man a small smile, “Ah...yes, Professor. I’m just grabbing the last of my stuff then I’ll be on my way. This won’t take long.”

“It’s fine, Jimin. The staff know you well anyways,” Jungmin sighs, then rests his weight on a pillar as he puts his hands in his pockets. “You know, Jimin...you’re a very bright student...I think even one of the best in Korea if I do say so myself.”

The young man momentarily pauses with what he’s doing, taking in the professor’s words, “Oh, I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration, Sir.”

Jungmin chuckles as he shakes his head. “It’s true - you’re driven and you’re smart. It’s a fixed formula for someone who achieves great success in life later on. Your parents must be very proud. I would be too, if you were my son too.”

“Thank you, Professor. Everything I do, I do for my parents.”

The older man lets out a deep exhale and gives Jimin another pat on the back. “Just wanted to let you know that you’re going to be a fine doctor Jimin - and the Jeon Medical Center would definitely need fine doctors like you. I realized I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I really hope you will choose JMC for your post-graduate internship. We have a good program here,” Jungmin’s voice goes down to a whisper, “If you wish to, just let me know…”

Someone enters the office and bows to the both of them and recognizes the same man as the professor’s driver. The man collects the professor’s briefcase and coat with one nod of Jungmin. “Well, I’ll head off first, Jimin. I can give you a ride home if you’re done with those.”

Jimin shakes his head quickly, declining the one and only Jeon Jungmin’s generous offer. He’s unsure about the other offer though, but if he lets himself get a car ride home with the chairman himself, the latter might take it as a favorable answer to his proposal to which Jimin is still undecided. “No thank you Sir. I’ll be alright. This might still take a while after all,” Jimin says with an awkward laugh, tapping the top of the stack which was rivaling Jimin’s height.

“Alright Jimin. Get back home safely. And I...hope to see you again very soon.”

Jimin gives him a curt nod. “Good night, Professor.”

He continues on with his remaining tasks, wanting to finish quickly so he could finally go home and rest. “Is he gone?” Kyungjo’s voice startles Jimin, the book in his hands nearly causing the tower of books to collapse. “My god! Stop doing that!” Jimin scolds his friend as it wasn’t the first time Kyungjo’s sleuthing had given Jimin a fright.

“Yeah, he left already. You done with your stuff?”

“Uh-huh. All set and ready to step into the real world,” Kyungjo replies, waving his hands in the air. Jimin narrows his eyes at the other boy, judging him silently. Kyungjo has a particular inclination towards alcohol and Jimin wonders if today was one of the days where his friend indulges himself yet once again.

“Have you heard about his actual son? What was the kid’s name again...uh…” Kyungjo snaps his fingers in mid-air as Jimin asks what was the issue with the chairman’s son, likewise reminding Kyungjo it wasn’t best to talk about it in the dean’s office. “Ah! Yes, Jeon Jungkook. Heard that their relationship got so bad that Jungkook completely cut himself off from the family once he graduated high school and went to Yonsei instead of BNU because of his daddy issues.”

Jimin, unsure how to handle and process that kind of information, simply shakes his head at Kyungjo. “It’s wrong to gossip about other people's lives like that.” When Jimin looks over at his friend, Kyungjo is no longer listening, fumbling with the remote as he turns up the volume of the office television.

“In other news today, two thousand five hundred sixty one students of Seoul National University graduated this afternoon 25th of February, 2023. The ceremony was held at COEX Convention Center in Samsung-dong, Seoul to accommodate the number of graduates this year. With a yearly average of at least two thousand three hundred graduates, this year’s commencement ceremony records the highest number of graduates in the history of the national university.

“Not only did they record the highest number of alumni, but this year also marks the first year to have a foreign national graduate as the school’s valedictorian.” Jimin is listening just as intently as Kyungjo now with both boys focused on the TV screen. “Jeong Yeorum, also known as Summer Jeong by her colleagues, graduates with flying colors today from Seoul National University’s College of Medicine. Here is part of her valedictory speech this afternoon.”

A girl appears on screen and she stands behind the podium with a bright and reassuring smile on her face. “As we embark on the journey of the rest of our lives, I implore you all, to do what you love, because I believe it’s what you’ll do best. There will be countless times of trial, but keep in mind that perseverance will always prevail. Always aim for the moon, because even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars. Class of 2023, good luck. And remember, graduation is only the beginning.”

“Wow!” Kyungjo claps his hands enthusiastically as he marvels at the girl. “The twenty-six year old, who along with her family migrated to South Korea back in 2015 when her father was reassigned to an office here in Seoul. The valedictorian says she’s not entirely foreign to Korea as her paternal grandmother is actually a native of Jeju. Jeong Yeorum then attended a co-ed high school in Mapo District, where she likewise finished her secondary education with academic distinction.”

The reporters, equally impressed with the girl’s achievements, couldn’t help but add their own comments to the news report, “Wow...I guess some people are simply born for greatness.”

“I agree with you there, Dongho-ssi. We might be looking at the next Bae Jeonjoo, the only woman in the group of doctors who pioneered neurosurgery in South Korea. Ms. Jeong Yeorum, if you are seeing this, we’re rooting for your promising career. Fighting!”

As soon as the news anchors proceed to report other news, Kyungko turns off the television and mentions the time. “Well, she was pretty cute, wasn’t she? Totally my type! Maybe when we get to Seoul to review, we’ll get the chance to meet her...and make her my girlfriend!”

Jimin rolls his eyes at Kyungjo, placing a firm grip on the shoulder, “My friend...you are either drunk, hungry, or high. Either way, you should go home. Don’t worry about me, I’ll just close up here.”

Kyungjo shrugs his shoulders. “You’ll still go, right? To Seoul?”

“I will. Don’t worry.” Jimin gives the other boy a reassuring nod.

“Still half half with the rent, a’ight? I’ll be counting on you, Jiminie...and don’t let me down. Also, tell me when you’re leaving for Seoul so I know when I’m not supposed to bring hot city girls home...they have the tendency to be...loud sometimes.”

This boy was definitely high, and whatever substance he’s taking, Jimin wants none of it.

“That’s your cue, Kyungjo. Go home and take a cab instead.”

“I can drive! I’m not high or drunk!” Kyungjo puts his hands up in the air in defense. “Hey, look, I can even moonwalk!” He proceeds to dance wildly as he exits the office, leaving Jimin questioning how he even became acquainted with Kyunjo in the first place.

You barely hear the sound of your name being called on stage when the audio of Hoseok’s loud whooping completely dulls that of your professor’s. “Oppa! Nobody would be able to make out my name with your audio input!” Playfully shoving your cousin’s phone back into his hands, you continue to mumble your complaints about the poor video quality.

Indignant with your words, Hoseok retorts, “Hey! I’m not a professional videographer, alright? What’s important is the actual moment happening and not how the moment was captured!” Hoseok hooks an arm over your neck, bringing your head to his chest as he gives you a noogie. “Oppa, my hair!!”

Pulling yourself away from his grasp, you quickly pat your hair down but not delivering a solid smack on Hoseok’s back. As you’re fixing your hair, you weren’t able to put much thought into where you were walking, ultimately, and accidentally bumping into someone in a blue and black graduation robe similar to yours.

Quickly, you look up, apologizing profusely at the person. “Oh! I’m so sorry- I…” “It’s okay,” the guy smiles a little, “_________, right?” You’re sure the surprise is evident in your face when he mentions your name when he barely even talked to you during the entirety of med school. “Yes! I mean...hello, Jungkook..” Clearing your throat, you quickly think of something to divert the impending awkward silence, “Well...um, congratulations to you for graduating as the batch valedictorian!” It now dawns on you that he really did graduate on top of the class, “Wow! You’re real smart!” comes your thoughts, unconsciously voicing them out.

‘You’re real smart?’ Really? That’s the best you could’ve done?

Jungkook chuckles, slightly taken-aback by your audible observation. “Oh yeah...um, thanks.” From behind you, you hear Hoseok clear his throat before speaking up. “Hello!” You hang your head low momentarily, already imagining Hoseok making fun of you later for this.

“Right, Jungkook, this is my cousin, Jung Hoseok. Oppa, this is my classmate - Jeon Jungkook.” The two men shake their hands briefly before Jungkook speaks up, “Well, I’ve got to go now. Congratulations to you too Soomin. And Jung Hoseok-ssi.”

As soon as Jungkook gets out of your sight, Hoseok nudges you with his elbow. “Please tell me that man was Jeon Jungmin’s son,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief. Nodding your head, you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Got a crush on the dude?” Oh god. Here we go again.

“No! Jeez.”

“Why were you so awkward around him then?”

“We barely talked in class. Hell, I don’t even think we were within at least fifty meters from each other.”

“But he’s a handsome man?”

“Maybe you’re the one that’s got a crush on him?”

Hoseok glares at you.

“Do you think maybe you’d know which hospital he might be interested in taking his PGI? Woocheon perhaps?”

It’s your turn to glare at him. “I told you. This incident was only one of our very few interactions ever. I think the last time he talked to me was when he borrowed a pencil during a class and that’s it.”

“Well...if you’d discover where, let me know. Because if he does apply for Woocheon, and we’d happen to get the girl from SNU too....” Hoseok nods his head slowly, stroking his chin “Woocheon will have the A-Team interns this year, you included.”

You roll your eyes, resting your arm against the car door that Hoseok opens for you, “You really think that’s going to pay for you ruining my hair?”

“No, but you’re going to thank me if Woocheon manages to snag the dream team!”

#jimin x reader #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #park jimin #bts aus #bts fic #park jimin x reader #jimin fluff #doctors au

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hawkinsschoolcounselor · 4 years ago

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Why do you think so many fans, even those who wouldn’t be considered casual viewers of the show think that those who romantically ship Mike and Will are kidding themselves? Sometimes I feel like I’m missing something, like we’re not even watching the same show. From my perspective, it’s beyond me to how someone could look at Mike and El’s romantic relationship, especially after s3, and think it’s proper.

Great question. I’ve touched on this issue a time or two before, but perhaps never in such a direct manner. I think there’s several things in play here that lead to the more “mainstream” fans considering it crazy when Mike and Will are seen as a romantic pairing. I think these same causes also lead to fans missing how improper, to use your terms, Mike and El’s relationship is. Some of these things are more valid than others, but they’re all valid in the sense that they are real, meaning that people aren’t just being petty. There are those out there who are petty, of course, but I think it’s unfair to cast all fans we disagree with in with that group.

First, let’s get this out of the way, heteronormativity maintains quite the stranglehold on American culture. Yes, we’ve come a long, long way. Gay characters and couples are portrayed in a much more positive light compared to twenty or more years ago. Still, they continue to be treated as a shock, either in behavior or reveal. By that I mean that these characters are either blatantly obvious or a complete surprise. There is seldom any middle ground here. This is, in my opinion anyway, a remnant of the transition of gay characters from caricatures to genuine characters. Fans, American fans at least, want to seem accepting to gay people, but they also want it crystal clear that gay people are different from them. To quote Homer Simpson from Homer’s Phobia, a 1997 episode of The Simpsons, “I like my beer cold, my TV loud, and my homosexuals flaming!”

The 90s were a time when gay people were starting to be seen as decent people instead of deviants. They still weren’t equal, though, and were often used as props and novelties. The Gay Best Friend trope came out of this idea that gay people were fun and exotic, and many would also use them as a way to show how progressive they were. It was a step in the right direction, perhaps, but gay people were still not seen as equals.

Why is this important? Well, maybe it’s not, but not only is Stranger Things the product of two brothers who grew up in that era of thinking, but so is the largest segment of the viewership. Most Stranger Things viewers fall in the 18-29 and 30-44 demographics. I, myself, fall in the latter category. While we all laughed at Homer’s idiotic homophobia, we all knew deep down that we were similarly taken in by stereotypes and heternormativity. That is to say, that being straight was the normal, expected way of things, and gay people was something neat and trendy, but that only happened to other people.

This mindset persists today, though it does seem to be slowly eroding. We still expect most characters to be straight. I suppose, in some ways, this makes sense. The majority of people in America (and likely the world) still identify as heterosexual, so, technically, statistically, being LGBT is “abnormal.” Still, the degree to which I see LGBT people being open about their identities sometimes catches me off guard when I stop to think about it. It’s something that was unimaginable when I was a teenager, barring being in an identified gay club or neighborhood. The fact that it catches me off guard, despite identifying as bisexual, is proof that those mechanisms of my upbringing persist.

I am able to see the romantic undertones of Mike and Will’s relationship because I’ve been there. I’ve been in love with a same-sex friend and been afraid to say anything about it. I’ve agonized over whether it was real or just a phase. I’ve struggled with hiding it. I’ve tried to keep my feelings hidden while also letting them slip out in controlled bursts of not-quite-platonic gestures. I’ve even wondered how I could be “like that” when I acted and dressed just like any other guy I knew. Despite living it, I still saw “it” as something foreign and different. It’s only because I lived it that I can see through the heteronormativity and recognize homosexual love in “straight” TV and movie characters. I’m sorry, but Poe Dameron was definitely into Finn, and Finn, at the very least, idolized Poe, and you can’t convince me otherwise, no matter what Disney tried to pull by giving them both inconsequential female love interests.

(Christ, this is turning into a real rant here, oh well, the bottle has been opened.)

So, yeah, heteronormativity basically tells us that if characters are gay then they’ll act a “certain way” so we know. Mike and Will don’t do this, so, to most fans, they aren’t gay. Heteronormativity and pop culture tropes also tell us that male and female leads are meant to end up together. Now, in defense of other fans, the Duffers do play around with all sorts of tropes, so it’s understandable that people would expect things to be just as formulaic in Stranger Things. The problem these fans don’t see, however, is that the Duffers seem to like subverting the tropes.

For those of you who aren’t aware, subverting a trope means that we are led to believe that we’re being shown something we’ve seen time and time again, only to end up with something else. Season 1 was so big on this that I fell in love with the show. Adults Are Useless? Joyce did not sit around while the kids solved the mystery. Hopper wasn’t the ineffectual drunk cop I was expecting him to be. Jerk Jock? No, Steve is actually a nice, if dopey, guy once he stops letting his friends influence him. Virgin Survivor? No, sex is not seen as a vice needing to be punished, so Barb dies instead of Nancy. The Duffers know what we expect to see, they tease us with it, then pull the rug out from under us.

So, what do we expect in terms of romance? We expect our opposite sex leads to pair up. This would mean Mike & El and Joyce & Hopper as our kid and adult lead pairs, respectively. Mike & El, in particular, seems to be something they’ve tantalized fans with, both in the show and marketing. We can look at that relationship, though, and see that it’s not built on much. That’s somewhat in line with many kid relationships, so, really, it’s expected that it would similarly fizzle out as those relationships generally do. These are two kids who knew each other for a week, then spent a year apart. If anything, they’re more in love with the ideas of each other they created in that time apart than anything else. This could explain why their relationship was so shallow once they’re together again. We all experienced this type of crush or relationship before, the one where we don’t really know the person so we create a version of them in our minds. This version often clashes with the real one once we get to know them. Still, we’ve all been there.

This brings me to my final point: identification. We identify with characters when we watch TV shows and movies. I dare say most, if not all, of us can identify with these kids getting these crushes and early relationships. The youngest fans probably identify even more since they’re currently in those stages of life. I’m sure many young fans identify with either Mike or El, and perhaps fantasize about being with the other (or both?). Whether we realize it or not, we’re casting our own wants and needs onto the characters. Some fans want Mike and El together because it validates their own feelings and experiences.

I know that I certainly identify with Mike and Will through my own teenage experiences. I identify with other characters for more mature, adult reasons, as well. Yes, a part of me ships Mike and Will because of this. The difference here, compared to other ships I’ve gotten behind, is that this actually seems real. There is canon evidence that Mike and Will appear to have non-platonic feelings for each other, feelings built over a very long friendship. Mike legit seems like the closeted, possibly not even aware, gay kid going through the motions of a straight relationship. Will seems like he’s actively suppressing any romantic urges because he’s spent his life being bullied for being queer. They’ve been written to have more genuinely romantic moments than Mike and El have had. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, the writers will have some explaining to do if they don’t get together. Many fans will miss it, due to the reasons mentioned above, but it’s all been laid there before us. Nobody should be surprised, but they will be.

#stranger things #byler #heteronormativity

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alatismeni-theitsa · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Hope you're doing well <3 I been reading some of your posts about LO and Greek culture in general! And as a non-greek I think your culture is amazing and it should be respected as any other culture, so, I had this question a little while ago

I made a couple of characters based on greek myth creatures, and I kinda had a story for them in an ancient greek inspired world (highly inspired tbh, I think it might take place in an ancient greek ambience as well), but now I think that might be insensitive (?) I don't know how to express it, but I just want to know, would it be ok if I continue with that idea or should I scratch it?

TIIIME TO FINALLY ANSWER THIS

I am really sorry for the long wait! I was trying to think how to answer this properly and also mustering the energy for it xD I will pin it so you can find it more easily, if you come back to the blog.

For starters, you can write whatever you wish. I am hesitant to say to people “you can't write this and that” because it might make people feel estranged and uncomfortable and I believe that distance serves no real purpose. Yes, it’s likely that a xenos won’t be making the story VERY culturally accurate but if the story is 30% culturally accurate as opposed to barely 5% which we see in the popular media today, then it’s still a win. Not to mention that Greeks themselves are not 100% culturally accurate most of the time in their Greek mythology stories. This happens because 1) Americanization has hit us hard 2) They write them just for fun without bothering to research much. We are also lucky if we have a 30% accuracy in our texts most of the time.

(I love percentages if you can’t tell 😂)

You might have figured out I have the tag #writing (and perhaps also #writing advice ??) where I answer these type of questions, so visiting it might help! I'm not gonna tell you if you can write it or not - you can write whatever you like - but I would advise you to treat the Greek culture like any other real or fictional culture. Do a proper “worldbuilding”, let’s say.

THE CREATURES

As you know, some are more serious and some are more playful. They don’t easily “switch” from their behaviors so it’s best to keep a serious creature serious and a playful creature playful throughout most of the story. Some reading is needed, to figure out how the ancient Greeks saw those creatures. Because assumptions are usually not helpful. If we have no clues about their behavior, that’s free real estate I guess 😂

Now, if you are going for the “almost like Greek culture but not quite” thing, that still needs similar studying. You need to know where you are basing those creatures and how they see their world - or how the world sees them. And what elements make sense to change.

You can still not base the characters nowhere and just have a gal with snakes in her head. You can do that xD However, if you like to be more in touch with the culture you need to use some context and the “ambience” you talked about. It’s another thing to say “this gal has snakes on her head“ and another to say “this is THE Medusa“.

Some Greek culture needs to shine through. I mean, it would be great if it could shine though in general, so your references and basis to Greek mythology are better. It would be safe to assume the ancient folklore creatures have some Greek culture in them since they have Greek names, they have been written in Greek stories behaving according to the Greek societal rules and ethics, and generally being symbols in Greece until our days. And your story is about Greek mythology, so you want to emphasize the Greek aspects of your heroes and world.

THE ANCIENT GREEK INSPIRED WORLD

I don't know what research you’ve done so far but I will begin from the basics anyways. Ancient Greek ambience, as you can probably guess, is not “chitons, wine, vines and white pillars” 😂 The ambience specifically doesn’t come from the aesthetics but from the feel of it - the food, the customs, the symbols, the dances, the language interjections, the behaviors and values. Parts of the culture are also how is reverence and modesty are expressed, what makes someone present “manly“ or “feminine”. So, it’s gonna take some research.

People usually write some of the aesthetic and think they are covered, even though their worldbuilding is bad, precisely because they have only presented the very top of the iceberg. No food, no dances, no certain behaviors, nothing. You could say they are “soulless Disney remakes”. 😂 You can also do that, but you need to know how it will come out. It might be quite bland and, if I am not mistaken, you said you want to avoid that. (And I think most of Greeks would tell you that they don’t mind a Greek “soulless” remake but it would be super extra great if you put cultural elements in).

Ok, I don’t mean make it like an encyclopedia, but presenting some stuff from the culture is how you get the ambience. You might as well take a writing advice list for worlbuilding stuff you must have and see which ones you can find irl from the Greek culture.

Important! Remember that nearby cultures affect each other, so if you change one element from the Greek culture it’s likely it has to be changed in other cultures next to your area. If wearing green makes you manly in Imaginary Greece, it will also make you manly in Imaginary Turkey and Imaginary Bulgaria, let’s say. (there is no “ancient Turkey” or “ancient Bulgaria” as countries - and depending on the era, “ancient Greece” is also not a thing - but you get my point xD)

For the interpersonal relationships/interactions, you can read some ancient translated texts presenting daily life situations of the ancient Greeks (start from Googling stuff, I really don’t have sources for that xD). It’s very likely that the ancient sources won’t give you a very defined feel (try it anyways, if you like). Therefore, I suggest you see interactions of modern Greek people.

Worry not! YouTube - through me xD - has you covered! Searching the tags #greek tv #greek youtuber #greek podcast and #video. On youtube you can even find vlogs of people visiting Greece and see interactions with the locals. (If you have trouble finding them, you can send me another ask).

Similarly, it might take months to find all the Greek language interjections so you can go for modern ones. Besides, many interjections like “popoo“ are ancient. Besides, if you are not making a very “serious” story, the modern touches might help it feel more in touch with the present.

Surely, people are people everywhere and humans between countries share cultural traits, but there are some slightly more predominant stuff depending on the culture. Cultures close to each other share more traits, so, if you can’t find any Greeks around, you might be able to find our neighbors. Middle Eastern, north African, or south European people (and Hispanic/Latino Americans!) around might help to understand the dynamics between friends and family members. If you already belong to some of those cultures, congrats, you have most of the formula figured out!

I gave so much space to the interpersonal relationships because that’s gonna give you an idea where the line of “respect” is. Surely, the ancient interpersonal relationships won’t be like the modern American ones 😂 There is no way a student goes to Chiron being like “hey, man, how you doin?” Knowing how Greek teachers were, as late as the 20th century, that’s gonna earn him a slap 😂

Another thing: saying “Good morning” and “good afternoon / goodnight” when you first and last see people in the day is VERY important and the best social practice! You won’t be considered rude if you don’t say them but in a slightly formal and especially professional environment, better use them. (Other modern Europeans also consider this a good practice.)

The most ancient greeting of Greeks is “be happy” (χάιρε / χαίρετε) but health is also very important and is another old greeting. Xάιρετε is more formal in our days and Γεια/Γεια σας ("have good health”) is the most used formal and informal one. Seeing how people wish health in the middle east, it might be that the Health thing has been here for centuries. Also, if you break something or something bad happens to you, we say “health” because having your health is more important than anything else.

Fun fact, “Charon“ (Χάρων) probably means “the happy one” :P It has the same root with (χάιρε / χαίρετε).

Many other social cues can be found in the tags I mentioned, but you can send me an ask if you need to know something more specific!

As for the food, you can find ancient recipes and even use modern ones (which are usually with the same ingredients). Same goes for dances and symbols. You can google stuff about them, go on Google Scholar and search there, as well. (Also, google pages where you can download those papers for free ;) ) Please do some cross examination to make sure that this element indeed exists and it’s not just one person pulling it our of their a**. 😂

If you can’t find info, you can lean on modern symbols and dances. The dances are similar through the centuries anyways. No one is going to come for you if you say you based an element on a modern Greek thing bc the ancient one was impossible to find with the resources available to you.

I don’t have many more things to add on these cultural elements because I already have tags for the modern ones. #greek cuisine #melomakarona #greek dance #greek custom #greek tradition etc.

And, last but not least, research the weather!! I can't stress this enough 😩 We are not a desert and we are not the Tropics. If your weather is similar to the Greek one, then your creatures most likely will need some serious covering in Autumn and Winter 😂

All in all, it’s certainly not a piece of cake to write about other countries and cultures but, if they are open to let you in, you can learn stuff and do your best depicting them. It might not be perfect (and no work is actually perfect) but it would be a step to the right direction and might encourage more writers to do the same - instead of throwing some chitons in and calling it a day xD

If you have any other questions feel free to send me another message (dm or ask). You - or anyone else - REALLY WON’T BOTHER ME if you ask me many questions on my DMs or here.

#writing #answered #retelling #greek myhtology #excuse my tags i am just making this post easier to find #writing advice

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nekowriteshaikyuu · 5 years ago

Text

Temptation

it’s contagious to touch you, but it’s also tempting to do so.

pairing: Sakusa x reader

warnings: fluff (?)

summary: you love affection, but Sakusa doesn’t. For your sake, will he come out of his comfort zone?

a/n: so,,heard haikyuu is ending TT. i’m so sed i haven’t even finish reading the recent chapters so i’m slowly catching up. But anyways after like a 2 week hiatus, i’m back so weee. hope this one will make up for being gone for the past 2 weeks. enjoy !!

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ sakusa kiyoomi ♥

you and Sakusa have been dating for about 3 months now. Surprising, huh? considering he’s a clean freak. Despite that, you see through his habit as a really loving and understanding person. And you’ve always love him for that. But there is still one thing that has never change for these few months.

his fear of affection with you. You’re the captain of the soccer team, and every practice, there is never a time you’re covered in mud. You’re constantly running in the field, under the scotching hot sun or lightly drizzling rain. Both of your practices ends at the same time but Sakusa always finishes earlier to clean up and do his daily cleansing routine. By the time you’d change into some thin dri-fit shirt, he’s already squeaky clean from head to toe. Don’t get me wrong, Sakusa adore you, he loves you. He really do. But just by looking at you all sweaty, mud on your shirt and some on your legs, as well as your really chapped hands, he feels really uncomfortable. He basically gags and cringe over the sight of you all dirty and contaminated with germs.

This actually was an issue you both face. You’ve always love affection, and he knows that from the very start of your relationship . Forehead kisses, back hugs, cuddles when watching a movie, just thinking about it puts you on cloud nine. But Sakusa is never one to give you affection. Maybe some light hand caresses, but even that makes Sakusa pull out his hand sanitiser and spread it all over his hand. It does upset you on how cautious he is with his hygiene but it’s wrong for you to force him out of his comfort zone to satisfy your needs. So you just live with it. As time goes by, your constant yearning for affection slowly dies down. You just felt impatient waiting for the day to arrive. Sakusa noticed it as well. You began to be cautious with your hygiene around him. You’re at least arms length away from him everytime he waits for you during practice so he won’t feel grossed out, you’d scrub your body hard, making sure you felt like every bacteria just dies from the shampoo you applied, you’re always never touching shoulders when walking home together.

Sakusa felt a slight guilt that you’d do all these small gestures so he’d feel comfortable around you. He felt like he’s not doing enough to make you happy. He did tried to hold your hand once, but soon pulled his back to his side after the thought that he’d be at risk if taking that step forward.

As time flies, you’ve already picked up the habit. Arms length away, keep clean at all times, shoulder width apart. You don’t feel like the relationship is as lively as it used to be. It felt as if there’s a wall, blocking you away from Sakusa, forbidding you to touch him.

You sighed silently as you stare at the black board, chalk scribbles of math formulas across the board. You turned to your left and looked out the window, admiring the green grass growing in the soccer field. It’s been a week since you’ve been in the field. Your team finally graduated and it wasn’t compulsory to attend daily practices. You took this opportunity to rest and work on your studies, and just have moments with yourself to recollect your thoughts. As for Sakusa, he still attends training so you’d often wait for him in your class until he’s done to go home together.

It was after school and Sakusa left for training. You sat in your seat, watching the trees swayed from the wind. You yawned after staring back at your paper filled with black ink. You’ve been rewriting your english essay for a while now and you felt your hand ache. You decided to take a small nap, which turned into sleeping for a whole hour.

Sakusa ended his practice and was obnoxiously exhausted. He was constantly passing the ball without break. He slowly got up from the bench and went to wash up. As he continue to do his daily cleansing, he noticed how you’re not replying his messages. Normally it’d take only seconds before you’d see his messages and reply. He even gave you a call but it wasn’t answered. He knew where you were waiting and immediately went to your class after cleaning up.

As he open the door, he was welcomed with you resting on your hand on the table, pen in your other hand. He slowly walks up to you and sat on the corner of the table beside yours. He envyed how you were able to rest peacefully while he was having difficulty keeping the ball constantly off the ground. He slowly admire your features. Your hair falling on your face, your eyes twitching and your light snores, He couldn’t help but smile under his mask. Unconsciously, his arm stretched out to tuck your hair that was covering your face behind your ears. He basically lost his breathe just watching you sound asleep. That small moment, he realised, how much he yearned for your touch. your hands weren’t chapped, but instead it was so smooth. Your shirt wasn’t covered in mud, but scented with your strong floral perfume, For once, he just had the temptation to pull you closer to him, and rest at the crook of your neck and take the moment to ease down after a tiring practice

You slowly woke up when you felt someone beside you. You slowly got up before making eye contact with your boyfriend who was silent for a while.

“how long have you been here?” you asked with a groggy voice. He took a deep breathe, exhaled hard, and looked back at you before speaking.

“shouldn’t you have gone home if you’re tired? it’s not necessary for you to wait.” you slowly stood up , your hands up your head as you stretch from your nap.

“it’s okay, i had some work to do anyways” you struggled to reply as you continue to stretch. To you, it was nothing. But to Sakusa, it was like an opening.

Your waist wasn’t blocked by your hands, and it was just nice for Sakusa to pull you in his arms. The thought of it made Sakusa at ease. But he wants to experience as well aside from just imagining it. As you mindlessly stretch, twisting and looking out the window, you flinched as you felt a bold, firmed hand grabbed your waist, pulling you closer. Before you knew it, your boyfriend was settling into the crook of your neck. Just like how he wanted to for the longest time.

“o-omi?!” you’re practically panicking. The action was so sudden for you to process properly. You thought he did it out of force so you won’t feel sorry for him not giving you enough love. You tried pushing him away, but his grip tightened around your waist, giving you no way of escape. Sakusa slowly sinks in your touch, sighing under his mask. He could practically hear your heart beating faster than usual. So this was how it feels like to be touched, to be loved, with affection. For a moment, the thought of being contaminated and germs was washed out of his mind. All he was thinking about was how amazing it felt to hug you after so long of distancing from each other. (social distancing kidz)

You watch him as he rests onto you. You couldn’t help but smile, before placing a peck on the top of his head. You began to slowly play with his curls, feeling how soft and silky it is for the first time. You stood there silently as Sakusa takes the moment to wine down and ease up after an exhausting day.

“omi, we have to go home.” You said but he pulled you closer, sighing once more.

“just,,a few more minutes” He didn’t want this to end. He wants to hug you for as long as he can take it. But at last he soon let go after you lightly tapped his back. On the way home, he took the courage to hold your hand. You’ve never felt this happy. For a while, you’ve always been waiting for this moment to come, and it finally did.

You could see the invisible wall fade. Your shoulders were finally touching, hands intertwined with one another. You were so close to Sakusa you could rest your head on his shoulder.

“you’re gonna have to get used to this new habit of mine” Sakusa broke the silence. You looked up at him and noticed a hint of redness on his cheek, even with the mask on.

“hmm? what habit?” He turned away from you as he mumbled under his breathe, but you could hear clearly.

“...hugging you..” you just smiled before wrapping your arm around his.

“of course, omi~”

Well, let’s say that Sakusa is no longer fearing your touch no more. In fact, he yearns for it everytime now.

------ 𝕤𝕒𝕜𝕦𝕤𝕒 𝕜𝕚𝕪𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕚 ------

a/n: yeaa i kinda changed my layout and style so i hope it’s slightly better !! i’ll try to improve it as time goes by but this is not bad for now teehee. also feel free to send in requests, i’ll try to write them :) but yeaa hope you enjoyed it <3

#sakusa x reader #hq sakusa #sakusa imagines #sakusa scenarios #sakusa x you #sakusa fluff #sakusa x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyu #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you

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lunmelia · 4 years ago

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I praythee... more dadstiel raising Jack... please?

I was gonna hold off on this for a bit, but I’m feeling a bit sick and unmotivated to do anything else, so here you go. I’m putting the rest of the post under a line because I maybe got a bit carried away. maybe wrote just a little tiny story. just a small one. Maybe 2.

----

Okay, so maybe Dean did not like baby Jack at first. He had his reasons, okay? Weak reasons, but reasons. Firstly, a baby shapeshifter is very different to the baby of the literal devil. Secondly, that baby is the reason his mom and best friend almost died. Weak reasons, but reasons. But his dislike for the baby only lasted three days. Three days of the other three frowning at him and repeating, “he’s just a baby, Dean.” Three days of Castiel somehow succeeding in keeping the baby calm. Three days of Dean avoiding the room Cas and Jack were situated in. But on the night of the third day, Jack had decided he would not be persuaded to go to sleep. No matter what Castiel did. Dean and Mary had been holed away in Sam’s room, far enough that their ears weren’t damaged from the cries, close enough to act quickly if anything were to go wrong. Three hours into the crying, Dean decided he’d had enough. “Alright,” he snapped, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against. “I’m putting an end to this.” He marched towards the door. “Dean,” warned Mary, rising from her seat. Dean paused to turn back to them, throwing his arms out in exasperation. “I’m not gonna kill the damn thing, jeez,” he said before continuing his steps. A few minutes later, the door opened to the room where Cas was hurriedly shushing and bouncing baby Jack, and Dean strode in with a guitar in hand. Cas threw panicked eyes to him. He was worried about the nephil’s cries affecting the human’s ears. “Dean-” “I’ve heard worse, Cas. Had you screaming at me after I crawled outta hell, didn’t I?” He threw the angel a grin before closing the door. “I can deal. Put him on the bed, will you?” He gestured to where four pillows were assembled in a rectangle border. Where Jack had been sleeping, since there was no crib to be found in the bunker. Cas hesitantly did as he was told, settling Jack down as he writhed and screamed, his small face scrunched up, red and wet with snot and tears. “You’re terrible at this, by the way,” Dean commented after wincing at a particular loud scream. “You were basically shaking the kid when I came in. And you need to change into some softer clothes, man. Your suit’s too rough, and that’s all he’s been feeling since he was born, apart from that blanket we’ve got him in. No wonder he’s upset.” He settled on the edge of the bed, propping one knee up on the sheets and resting his guitar atop it. “Oh,” Cas said, “of course. I hadn’t realised.” “Hm.” Dean gave him an obvious look. “Now shush for a minute.” He looked down at his guitar, adjusting his fingers on the appropriate cords before beginning to strum a soft tune. Jack’s cry abruptly cut off as his ears caught on the new sound. Yet he quickly ignored it in favour of continuing his screeches. Dean plucked the strings for a few more seconds before taking a breath, and singing in a low baritone, “There is a young cowboy, he lives on the range.” Cas gave a short gasp as if he had just realised what Dean was doing. Dean spared him a glance before focusing back on the guitar. “His horse and his cattle are his only companions He works in the saddle and he sleeps in the canyons Waiting for summer, his pastures to change.” Dean was now looking at Jack, who was looking back and releasing confused whines. Dean looked up to the angel and whispered, “sit down, Cas.” Castiel slowly lowered himself to the bed as Dean moved onto the next part of the verse. “And as the moon rises, he sits by his fire Thinkin’ about women and glasses of beer Reclosing his eyes as the doggies retire He sings out a song which is soft, but it’s clear As if maybe someone could hear.” By this point, Jack was still whimpering with tears gathering in his eyes, but his full focus was on Dean with a curious tilt of his head. Dean watched the baby, the irritation in eyes now lessened. Instead, he now regarded the nephil with a soft, considering look. Cas, same as Jack, gave his full attention to Dean, a twitch in his lips. “Goodnight, you moonlight ladies Rockabye, sweet baby, James Deep greens and blues are the colours I choose Won’t you let me go down in my dreams? And rockabye, sweet baby, James.” Jack was now soothed to soft coos, the red in his face having completely receded. Dean, unconsciously, was leaning towards the baby. A soft smile fought to pull at his lips. “Now, the first of December was covered with snow, So was the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston Though the Berkshires seemed dream-like on account of that frostin’ With ten miles behind me and ten thousand more to go.” Jack’s eyes were fluttering. It seemed that he was fighting sleep, however, as he kept blinking to gaze at Dean. A sudden yawn escaped him. Cas’ face bloomed with a wide smile while Dean let himself grin softly. “There’s a song that they sing when they take to the highway A song that they sing when they take to the sea A Song that they sing of their home in the sky Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep But singing works just fine for me.” Cas huffed a laugh at Dean, who threw him a grin before turning his gaze back to the now asleep Jack. Dean pitched his voice quieter, almost a whisper so not to disturb the sleeping infant. “So goodnight, you moonlight ladies Rockabye, sweet baby, James Deep greens and blues are the colours I choose Won’t you let me go down in my dreams? And rockabye, sweet baby, James.” Dean let the last chord fade away, and the room was cast into silence. He gently laid his hand atop his guitar, afraid to make any noises that might awaken Jack. He gazed at the baby nephil with a soft smile.

“He’s kinda cute when he’s not trying to blow out our eardrums,” he admitted quietly. Cas smiled and hummed. After a moment, Cas whispered, “that was beautiful, Dean.” Dean snapped his gaze to the angel, alarmed and caught off-guard by the compliment. “I- oh. oh, y-yeah, sure, okay. um...” he trailed off, looking away back to the infant. Cas tilted his head, amused. Dean stared at Jack for a moment, a furrow working its way to his brow. “... We’re really going to raise Lucifer’s baby, aren’t we?” he asked. Cas frowned at the mention of the archangel, but nodded. “It would seem that way, yes,” he said. He waited for Dean’s response, for him to argue the fact one last time. But Dean sighed, his irises bouncing back and forth for a moment before he said, “okay. We’re going to need to buy supplies, then. This place is lacking. Not surprised by that, though. Not exactly the kind of place you’d expect the Men of Letters to be raising their kids.” Cas hummed his agreement. There was another moment of silence before Dean rose from the bed. “Right, I guess I’ll go discuss that with mom and Sam. You... keep watch over him.” He gestured to Jack, still sleeping. “I will.” Cas nodded. Dean nodded back. “Right.” He stepped up to the door. “Goodnight, Dean,” Cas softly called. Dean looked back to him, nodding again. “Night.” He slowly, quietly opened the door and stepped out into the hall, where Sam and Mary stood waiting. He raised a brow at them as he clicked the door close. “He stopped crying,” Sam said, stating the obvious. “He’s sleeping?” Dean nodded. Mary looked from the guitar to her son. “You sang to him?” she questioned. Dean paused a moment, then nodded with a shrug as if nothing were out of the ordinary. “Yeah. We need to make a list of baby supplies,” he said, quickly changing the subject. “And baby-proofing stuff. That should definitely be a priority. This is not a safe place to raise a baby without baby-proofing.” He waved a hand, scoffed while glancing around the hall as if observing the entire bunker, then turned and walked away. Sam and Mary looked at each other, both equally confused at Dean’s sudden change of attitude towards Jack. Sam then shrugged, grinned and chased after Dean, calling in a whisper, “what song did you sing?” “I ain’t telling you. Why’d you wanna know?” Dean gave his brother a look of disgust.

“Oh, come on. Was it Blackbird? It was Blackbird, wasn’t it? That’s so obvious.”

“No, Sam, it wasn’t Blackbird.”

Mary huffed a laugh, shaking her head before following after her sons.

(The song Dean plays and sings is “Sweet Baby James” by James Taylor, in case you wanted to take a listen)

Although, yes, Cas can put Jack to sleep with his grace, he refuses to. He’s afraid that would intefere with Jack’s natural growth, and that Jack will begin to depend on his grace and will never be able to put himself to sleep. So Cas doesn’t. Besides, Dean singing to him seems to work just fine. -- They were all afraid that they were going to have to feed Jack some weird, special combination since he’s a nephil. Like, milk and holy water, or something. But nope, normal formula works just fine. He’s actually a pretty normal baby. Just, plus deafening screaming, wings and healing. -- I’m honestly not sure how to approach Chuck with this AU. I don’t want him to be evil because I want this to be a soft, happy AU but he is an evil bastard, so. If anyone wants to handle the angst side of this AU that involves Chuck go ahead but I ain’t touching it. I will say this though; I can see Amara convincing Chuck not to kill a baby. Amara: it’s a baby, God Chuck: yes, but it’s a very dangerous baby Amara: ... it’s a baby. Chuck: ... a very dangerous baby. Amara: there is... no such thing as a dangerous baby. there is literally... nothing dangerous about a baby. nephil or no Chuck: but- Amara: do not kill a baby, God. Chuck: ... fine. -- The four of them were so busy getting Jack settled in the bunker that they just completely forgot to tell the other hunters that, y’know, they have a baby now. So it was a bit of shock to Jody, when she called to check in on them after not hearing from them for weeks. Jody, on the phone with Sam: yeah, we haven’t heard from you guys for weeks! what’s going on, everything okay? Sam, on the other line: uh, yeah, no everything’s fine, we’ve just been *glances over to where Mary and Cas are bathing Jack in the sink* busy. Jody: busy? you guys need help with anything? Sam: no, no we’re fine- Jack: *coos and smiles* Cas: *gasps* was that his first smile? Mary: it was! he smiled! Dean, jumping up from where he was sitting: he’s smiling!? Sam, hurrying over: wait, I wanna see! Jody: ... Sam. Sam: oh- uh, heh, yes, Jody? Jody: do you have a baby? Sam: we... might. Jody: why do you have a baby, Sam? Sam: uh, well, see it’s a long story- Dean: *laughs* look at him go! look at that little smile! Jody: oh my god I’m coming over- *hangs up* Mary: was that Jody? Sam: yep Dean: ... we completely forgot to tell the others about the baby, didn’t we? Sam: yep. -- Dean, with Jack in his arms: Claire, you wanna hold him? Claire: uh, no thanks Dean: no, I think you wanna hold him *steps up to her* Claire, panicking: no, I really don’t- oh my god no don’t- *squeaks as Dean passes Jack to her* Dean, directing her: put your arms like that, hold his head like this- there you go! look at that, you’re holding him Claire: I hate you so much right now. *looks down at Jack with wide eyes* Jack: *stares up at her* Claire: he’s so tiny. so fragile... am I holding him right? I don’t wanna hurt him- Sam: you’re doing great, Claire. Don’t worry about it Claire: okay... can I... can I keep holding him? or- Cas: of course you can, Claire Claire: okay, thanks... *goes back to staring at Jack* Jack: ... *pulls at Claire’s hair* Claire: ow ow ow ow okay no I changed my mind take him please now- -- Jack’s first word, or at least first coherent sound, was surprise surprise a simple drawn out “daaa”. After weeks of Dean, Sam and Mary and everyone else referring to Cas as “dada” “dad” and “daddy” to try and get Jack to say it, the moment finally happened. It came out of nowhere, in a moment where they weren’t even trying to get him to say it. Dean: *sitting on the floor, watching Jack crawl around and fiddle with his toys* Jack: *loses interest in the block he was holding, looks at Dean, giggles then disappears* Dean, scrambling to stand: shit- Cas! Jack’s flying again! Cas, appearing before him three seconds later and holding Jack at an arm’s length: Jack, we’ve discussed this many times. You’re not to fly when I’m not in the room. Do you understand? Jack, cooing and reaching a hand towards Cas’ face: daaa Dean and Cas: ... Dean: did he just- Jack, more enthusiastically: da! Dean: he did! holy shit, Cas, he said it! he basically called you dad! he- Cas? Cas, tearing up: I believe... I am going to cry. -- After that, Jack developed a bad habit of flying whenever he wanted to see or be held by Cas. Honestly, it got annoying at times, especially when Cas was busy with other matters. But what else were they supposed to do, let him fly around until he gave up? They did eventually solve the problem after Gabriel came back and they got some of the other angels on their side. When Cas wasn’t available, one of the other angels fetched Jack. Though, the first time Jack was caught by Gabriel and not Cas, he was extremely upset. He blew out all the lights in the bunker and shattered glass and porcelain with his cries.

He could not be consoled for hours, not even when Cas was holding him. He latched onto Cas and cried until he was sure Cas wasn’t gone or going anywhere. He could not be separated from Cas that night, screaming whenever someone tried to take him from him. They concluded that he probably had separation anxiety since he had never really been separated from Cas before. Cas was there during the pregnancny, there when he was born, was his primary caretaker since Jack’s crying didn’t affect him like it did the humans, and he always catches him whenever he flies away. Cas was worried that Jack was going to depend too much on his grace, yet in the end Jack ended up depending too much on him.

Trying to ease Jack’s separation anxiety was a process, and a difficult one. Especially with him being a nephil.

He seemed okay with being without Cas for an hour and a bit, so they started by increasing the amount of time that Cas is gone. Which failed because whenever Jack noticed it had been a while since he’d seen his dad, he flew away. And since they wanted to avoid another huge tantrum so soon, they let Cas fetch him.

Ultimately, the only solution was getting other angels to catch him, and braving through the tantrums. Increasing the time in which Cas had to wait before going to Jack. It was... very, very difficult.

Because it turned out that Jack wasn’t the only one with separation anxiety.

They discover this fact the first time they attempt to separate them. Cas broke three minutes in, and flew to Jack with a muttered, “I’m sorry” to Dean. A collective sigh fell over the room as they looked to Cas, guiltily holding a wailing Jack.

“Alright, then,” Dean said, scratching at the back of his head, “guess that’s just something else we gotta work on.” Cas looked to them with wide, apologetic eyes as he held Jack closer.

From then on the “sessions”, as they started calling them, weren’t just trying to calm Jack down in Cas’ absence, but also trying to get Cas to stay put. To not cave in and go running to comfort Jack. Which was hard, seeing as Cas was an angel and didn’t really have to listen to a bunch of humans telling him “stay.” It took a lot of convincing. Convincing from Dean, mostly. Because Cas listened to Dean. For some weird reason, Dean thought.

The third session was the most difficult one they had at that point. It was three hours into Cas being away from Jack after another angel caught him, and they were aiming for four. Dean had left Cas with Sam for a minute to get himself some water, taking Cas’ impulse control with him. When he came back, Sam was very nearly begging Cas not to leave.

“Sam,” said Dean. “Go check on how the others are doing, will you?” Even though they could clearly tell, based on Jack’s screams echoing down the hall.

Sam hesitated. “You- you sure-” he stopped at the flat look Dean gave him. “Right, yeah, sure thing.” Sam glanced at Cas before hurrying out of the room.

When the door clicked shut, Cas stepped up to Dean. “Dean, I have to-”

“Sit down, Cas,” he told him, placing his glass on top of the drawers.

Cas paused, then tensed his shoulders as a glare settled over his features. “No. Will you just let me-”

“Cas!” Dean snapped, standing straight and regarding him with a hard glare. “Sit. Down.”

A tense silence passed between them as they glared at each other. Then, with a huff Castiel looked away and sat down on the bed. Dean dragged the desk chair to the bed and sat down, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Now I know this is really hard for you right now, but you have to push through and stay. put. This is a good thing for Jack-”

“How!?” Cas threw his hands up, restless. “How is this a good thing for him? He’s crying, he’s inconsolable, he’s in distress. How is something that is having such a negative effect on him a good thing?” He glared at Dean as if he were challenging him to answer.

“It may be affecting him badly now, but I promise you that this will not last forever. I know it’s hurting, but there ain’t another way for us to deal with his separation anxiety. We gotta get through the shitty stuff to get to the good results, Cas,” he reasoned, imploring Cas with his eyes to understand that this just needs to happen.

Cas opened his mouth to reply when a particularly loud screech ripped through the air. It caused the lights in the room to flicker. Cas looked in alarm towards the door, a weak sound escaping him. He threw worried, scared, eyes towards Dean and pleaded, “my son needs me, Dean.”

Dean sighed. Right. It seemed the only way to get Cas to stay put was to ground him through physical touch. He scooted the chair forward, reached out and tightly grasped Cas’ hands in his own. Cas’ gaze snapped down and back up, surprised. Dean ignored the look.

“What happens if we decide to enrol him in school, huh?” he asked the angel.

Cas’ brow furrowed, momentarily confused. “What?”

“What happens if we decide to enrol him in school?” he repeated. “Say I let you go right now, say we give up and just let you stay by Jack all the time, come whenever he calls. Okay, then what? He grows up, only knows a world where you’re always by his side. Then one day, you tell him that he has to go somewhere without you for 6 hours, everyday of every week. He reacts, only this time he knows words. He says ‘please’ and ‘no’ and ‘don’t do this, don’t leave me dad I don’t wanna go’. What then?”

Castiel winced, his heart tightening as the image of a 6-year-old Jack begging him not to leave came to mind. “I...” he trailed off, not sure what to say.

Dean nodded. “It would hurt a helluva lot more, wouldn’t it? Be a lot more difficult to leave once he has words to express how much he doesn’t want you to. And let’s say you don’t. Let’s say you cave in, because he’s your son and you love him and you don’t wanna see him cry. So you homeschool him, continue to stay by his side. You know what’s gonna happen? He’s not gonna be able to do anything without you, Cas. He’s not gonna know how,” he said, words clear and expression honest as he tried to get through to the angel.

Cas lowered his gaze, narrowing his eyes as he considered Dean’s words.

Dean suddenly laughed, bitterly saying, “I should know.”

Cas looked back up at him, tilting his head with a silent question.

Dean sighed, his shoulders dropping. “I spent most of my life with Sammy by my side every single damn day.” Castiel’s eyes cleared with understanding, but he let the other continue. “A life with Sam in it was all I knew. When he left for college... I was a mess. A big ol’ rage-filled mess. I hated Sam for leaving me, and that’s what I thought he was doing. Leaving me. He was just trying to live his life, but... I just didn’t know how to live without him. I couldn’t. I still-” he laughed breathlessly, shaking his head before gesturing to his neck. “I still get this nervous itch when he’s away for a few days. And I’m almost forty.”

He felt Cas’ hands tighten around his, and he shrugged off the sympathetic look the angel was giving him. He raised his brow towards him, questioning, “do you want that for Jack? For him to be crying and begging you not to go when you drop him off at school? For him to not go on any camping trips or sleepovers because he’d rather stay home with you? For him to get a nervous itch whenever you leave even though he’s a full grown adult?”

Cas shook his head. “No... No, I don’t want that.”

“Okay.” Dean nodded, and patted his hand once. “Then this is what you gotta do.”

Cas nodded slowly, understanding and acceptance sinking in. The lights flickered as another one of Jack’s cries echoed through the bunker. Cas sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. “This is... this is really hard,” he finally admitted.

Dean gave a sad smile. He knew that. He knew how much Cas was struggling. He watched Cas look longingly towards the door, then made a decision. “C’mere.” He rose to his feet, tugging on Cas’ hands as he went. Cas hesitated, looking uncertain. “The offer’s gonna go away real quick if you don’t hurry up,” Dean warned. Cas stood and Dean wrapped his arms around him, tugging him in. Cas sagged against him with a sigh. He pressed his face into Dean’s shoulder, and his hands gripped at the back of his jacket.

After a moment, Cas began to cry. Dean was shocked for a moment, not expecting to hear the sniffles and hitches of breath. He had seen Cas cry quite a few times since Jack was born, but he hasn’t gotten used to it yet. He quickly got over himself. This wasn’t the time to freak out. His friend needed him. He began to rub a hand over Cas’ back. “I know it’s hard, but you’re doing the right thing,” he murmured. Cas hummed in acknowledgement, but didn’t say anything.

After another moment, Dean said, “y’know, I think I’ve seen you cry more these past few months than I have in the 12 years I’ve known you.”

“Clearly, Jack brings out the worst in me,” Cas replied, his words muffled by Dean’s shoulder.

Dean chuckled as a response. The two stood in each other’s arms, quiet apart from Castiel’s sniffling and Jack’s distant cries. The nephil caused the lights to flicker again with another screech, and Cas’ arms tightened around Dean.

“How much longer?” he asked.

Dean paused in rubbing his back to check his watch. “You got 27 more minutes to go.”

Cas nodded. “Okay. And you’ll... stay with me?”

Dean squeezed him, then resumed rubbing circles into his back. This was unusual territory for him. A hug that’s lasted this long was rare for him. But Cas was feeling bad, feeling awful, and Dean would be damned if he let him. If Cas wants Dean to stay by his side during this, then so be it. “Of course, Cas. Of course...”

----

Alright, that’s it for now. I got carried away ajshfkajhfaj but fuck it I’m actually invested in this AU now, dammit. This wasn’t part of the plan!!

Now to tag some lovely people <3 your comments brighten my day

@arimeii @marvelmisha @astermacguffin @cursed-byesexual @kichisk2020

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choco-glow · 4 years ago

Text

Aliit

“Like so, riduur…kat-tay-LEER da-RAH-soom.”

“Kat-tay-LIR—”

“Leer, think two ees in Basic. The letter’s a bit weird in Mando’a.” Senya shot Shae a rueful smile, and Mandalore the Avenger threw back her long red braid with a laugh, wispy strays forming an auburn halo about her head. “You’re doing great, riduur; it’s hard picking up a new language, especially when it doesn’t use the same grammatical cues as Zakuulan or Basic.”

“And you didn’t have an overbearing father forcing you to learn everything, Buir.” Arcann drawled from where he was underneath Shae’s speeder, his face striped with oil and a bit of grease, blue eyes bright over his smile. Senya couldn’t help smiling back, warm and happy, because her lone living child was so at peace with his rebirth, with this, with them…Hell, he was picking up Mando’a faster than anyone else on base, but then again, the Mandos had taken him in like a lost son, Shae particularly. Torian chuckled low and rich from his perch atop the speeder, working on the upper half of the engine while Arcann took care of the transmission, and Senya found herself happy to have a second son again, if in name only.

Torian Cadera and his wife, a former Togruta bounty hunter-turned-adopted Mando, had been mostly adopted by Shae, and while Chromi was out and about taking care of things, Torian had elected to help his newly adopted brother with the repairs that Shae had, quite frankly, gotten too old to do. Not that that had stopped her, of course, but Shae had allowed Arcann and Torian to take over, while Senya eased her out, swearing and muttering under her breath about being too old for this shit, etc, etc.

“No, that is true, but still, I should at least be able to say that phrase, Tyth knows you tell me it enough.”

“It’ll come with time and practice.” Senya flushed, just a little at Shae’s sweet, quiet smile, and she took her riduur’s hand, conscious of the fact that she stood almost a head taller than the other woman. Then there was her power in the Force…Senya still felt like the odd duck out, though Arcann had made himself useful enough to blend in admirably. But then, he and Thexan both had felt better with their fellow soldiers on the battlefield, rather than the cold confines of Zakuul’s palace. Vaylin too, though Senya had always been less sure of her youngest…but she shook those sad thoughts away, longing for her children, and knowing that at least they were at peace once more in the Force.

“So it will…How about we go find ourselves a bit of dinner? We’re old ladies now; we can’t skip meals.” Shae pulled a face at that, and Torian laughed, falling back a little at her expression.

“Admit it, Mandalore, you’re no orochick any longer.” She swiped at him playfully, and he grinned, cheeks dimpled and eyes crinkled shut, and Senya laughed, catching Shae’s hands and pulling her closer.

“Old my ass, Cadera, don’t make me swat you like your buir should have.” Shae ruffled his hair, though, grinning despite her protests, and let Senya drag her off, while Senya failed to hide her smile. “I see you smiling too, riduur.”

“Yes, well, it’s nice to listen to you…even if you’re a bit over the top.”

“Hey now, I’m downright boring for Mandalore; trust me, some of my predecessors weren’t that nice. But…eh, that’s old news. C’mon, let’s hit the cantina; that C2 droid found the best chef in the galaxy.” Senya chuckled at that as they took the elevator back up to the main deck of the base, protected by the heavy cliff overhang, with the rest of the Alliance stronghold carved into ancient bedrock. Odessen as a planet was relatively young, and life on the planet hadn’t progressed to sentient yet, which had made it perfect for the Alliance…and having been so young in the galactic record, it was also that rare planet that hadn’t been explored yet, hence the first come, first owned philosophy.

Not that their Commander had claimed the planet for herself…no, Ionial had taken care to file everything neatly, and for a Jedi Knight, that was a rare perk. Then again, she was married to Theron Shan…and as he was the main Operations manager to the whole of the Alliance, Senya had a feeling that paperwork was something that poor couple dealt with even in the marriage bed.

Certainly, she was perfectly fine shacking up with Shae in her old age; Mandalore had baggage, but so did she, and though they did have responsibilities…they could set them down for a time. Shae, however, nudged her out of her thoughts with a careful touch to her elbow, and Senya glanced down at her riduur, eyebrows raised…and followed Shae’s line of sight to one of the tables in the back room, empty but for a familiar figure in long graying braids, her slender hands wrapped around a mug of tea, her beautiful face pinched with weariness and sorrow.

“…That’s Satele…”

“So it is…Senya, love, how much to you know about the Grandmaster?” Shae murmured as they accepted their drinks, and Senya chewed her lip, reviewing everything she’d learned about the former leader of the Jedi in the last eight years.

“…I know that she was the Grandmaster, and though she still holds the title, she is no longer the speaker for the Jedi. I know that she helped train our Commander…and I know that she’s Theron’s mother.”

“…She’s a hell of a warrior, in the speaking halls and on the battlefield. I’ve gone up against her once, and out of respect, I’ll never do that again.” Shae replied softly, and to Senya’s surprise, the Mandalorian took her hand, guiding her to the room. “And out of respect, I think she needs a friend.” Senya glanced back up at Satele’s face, and even at this distance, Senya could see tears sliding down her cheeks.

“…You might be right about that. A moment…” She leaned over to the waitstaff who took their order, and hurriedly ordered a third meal of Alderaanian stew and fresh veggies, and Shae nodded approvingly. They made their way to the back room, and it was Shae, her eyes frank and kind, who slid into the booth opposite Satele’s seat, and gently clasped the Jedi’s hands. Senya joined her as well, her own long hands joining Shae’s, and that brought Satele’s eyes up slowly, tears streaming down her face, her pain so strong that Senya instinctively reached for the Force to help calm her. That seemed to help, just a little, and Satele took a deep, shuddering breath.

“…Can we ask what happened?” Shae asked gently, her tone as soft as Senya had ever heard it, and Satele gave a weary, wet laugh.

“…I tried to talk to my son, and utterly ruined things. Again.” She swallowed, with difficulty, but cleared her throat and took a shaky breath. “Theron…and I have a…well, complicated is too strong. We don’t have much of a relationship at all. I…when I got pregnant, I didn’t think about him, I didn’t think about being a mother…I was too worried about being found, about figuring out what I could do with him. My master, Ngani Zho, took him and raised him…I stayed for six weeks to nurse him until we’d found a formula that worked, but that was all. And I left him.” Satele’s voice broke at that, and both women slid around to hug her, letting her weep into their arms. Senya’s heart ached for her; she’d been raised with no attachments, to have no attachments, and no matter what the Jedi might say, that was something that damaged the very soul.

For all that she mourned her children, Senya was grateful that she’d been able to love them so fiercely. Not being able to care for her babies like that…it horrified her to her very core. One glance at Shae over Satele’s braids, and Mandalore’s eyes were shuttered, angry, and grieving too. I could hate the Jedi for what they’ve done to people…even the Sith cherish their children.

“I am such a horrible mother…” Satele was whispering now, and it was Senya who shook her head, voice low but fierce.

“You are no such thing. You are a woman who was forced to make a choice, with little regard to your own heart.”

“But…the Code…”

“Blast the Code.” Shae’s voice was as sharp as vibrosteel, and Satele flinched, just a little. “Sorry, but…Satele, you wouldn’t have made that choice if you’d been like me, would you?” Satele froze, and for the first time, Senya sensed someone just outside their door, listening…she closed her eyes, opening her mind, and to her shock, it was Theron. He was frozen on baited breath, his eyes wide, and Senya amplified the sound in that room, just a little, just enough…both Shans needed to hear this.

“…No. No, I wouldn’t have…if I’d been…normal…like him…I’d have kept him. If Malgus hadn’t been hunting me…I would have been overjoyed to be a mother…” Satele whispered, but it was enough; Senya heard a bitten off sob outside the door, and she reached behind her, grasping the younger man’s sleeve and gently tugging.

“Theron, you need to come in here.” She called softly, and he shook, but he obeyed her, watery golden eyes a match to his father’s, wide with worry and nerves…and it was Satele who watched him, tears still burning down her cheeks, who reached out for his hands.

“Theron…”

“…You really would have kept me?” His voice wavered, and Senya clasped his shoulder, willing all the love she could feel pouring from Satele into him, knowing he was only just Force sensitive enough to catch it.

“Yes. Yes, I swear, I would have…I would have needed Master Zho to help, because I was…I had no idea what I was doing…but I would have brought you home and to hell with anyone else.” She whispered, and he closed his eyes, lips twisting in pain. “Theron, sweetheart, I’m so sorry…”

“I’m sorry for what I said…I’m sorry, Mama…” He whispered, and Shae hopped up out of the way to let mother and son embrace tightly, both of them sobbing as the dams broke between them. Senya managed to order a fourth meal too, and when they all arrived, she laid them out neatly. Soon, Theron and Satele had calmed enough to sit back down, this time opposite one another with Senya sharing the seat with Theron, Shae on Satele’s side.

“I know you two are probably exhausted, but you need to eat.” She declared, and Theron’s lips curled up in a half-smile, used to Senya’s Mom skill by now, while Satele managed a wan smile and Shae openly grinned.

“Thank you, Senya, Shae…”

“Yeah, thank you…I’m so sorry I yelled, Mom…” Satele only shook her head, eyes softer now, and clasped his hand.

“You were right to yell about that. I never…” She paused, took a deep breath, and continued. “I should have talked to you about all of this…really, I just should have talked to you. I know you felt like the dirty secret for years…and understandably so. I treated you as such, and Jace…” Theron sighed, wincing, and she nodded. “I owe you a lifetime of apologies.”

“…No, just the one is good, Mom. You did give me to Zho, and without him, I would have…well. He explained a lot, especially when I flunked out of the temple; he could have told me to bug off, but he kept in touch, helped me get into the SIS, even went with me to get my implants in. And he never faltered when I asked if you loved me; he always said yes, looking me dead in the eyes. I…didn’t always believe him, but he always said yes.” Satele smiled, just a little, and it was Shae who spoke up, having stayed quiet through most of it all, uncharacteristically so.

“He sounds like a good guy…I’m guessin’ he’s gone to the Force, isn’t he.” Both Satele and Theron nodded, twin expressions of pain marking their faces, and Senya closed her eyes, pulling a well of comfort and care from her core and filling the room with it. She had always been a master at controlling her emotions, in no small part because she was so strong with her empathy, and Satele gave her a fragile smile, so shy and tiny, that Senya couldn’t help smiling back.

“Thank you, Senya…and yes, he is. But he went down in battle, as he wanted, protecting his boy.” Theron was picking at his steak now, his jaw tight, but he heaved a sigh.

“Yeah, he did…it…it was hell watching him die in front of me. But I wouldn’t want him to go any other way; whatever else happened, he was a warrior, and he didn’t let any fight go past him without taking a swipe. But he’s at peace now…kinda wish he’d visited, but…I figure I’m doing a good job if he isn’t coming back.”

“Or you two didn’t need me until now.” The voice of an old man, far older than Satele or Shae, even, filled the glowing spot now hovering next to the table, and Ngani Zho, glowing blue and smiling faintly, stepped from the shadows, giving Theron a gentle cuff on the ear, and tweaking Satele’s nose. Both made the Shans break into startled laughter, and their Master smiled fully this time, leaving Shae and Senya speechless. Force ghosts were…a rarity on Zakuul, if at all; Senya had sensed Darth Marr’s spirit on Odessen, alongside Satele at times, but only just, and never had she sensed Thexan or Vaylin…Shae looked almost frightened, and Senya clutched her hand, broadcasting calm.

“So, you two finally talked it over…about damn time.”

“Master Zho…”

“Don’t you give me that, it’s been long enough. Take your time, feel things out, but let the Code go, Satele. At this point, it matters, but not more than your boy…and Theron, so help me if you don’t cut out the swearing—”

“Look, I’m a leader now, I’m gonna swear a lot more—”

“I will appear in front of your wife and complain to her.” Theron froze, and Zho crossed his arms, looking as smug as a Force apparition could. “With her old master in tow.”

“…Orgus passed on.”

“Wanna take that bet, son?” Another crusty old man’s voice sounded, and the former Jedi Orgus, short-haired and taller than Zho, leaned over the other ghost’s shoulder. Theron blanched, while Satele burst into relieved laughter, leaning back and reaching over Shae’s shoulder to give the other Jedi a brush of her fingers. He chuckled and squeezed her hand before vanishing, and Zho smiled down at her.

“Now then, any more complaints I should know about?”

“No, thank you, Master Zho…and thank you for coming to see us.” Satele murmured, and he leaned over to kiss her forehead, his eyes calm and warm, then he leaned over to do the same to Theron, who hugged the old man tight, despite their bickering.

“…Tasiele would have been proud of you both. She loved you so fiercely, Satele, and Theron…your grandmother would have fought tooth and nail to bring you into the Temple from the start…But she left us far too soon. It’s hard, losing your soulmate…” He gave them both a wan smile, Satele’s mouth open in shock, Theron’s eyes wide and his jaw hanging slack, and Zho chuckled. “Never did really care for the Council’s strict policies…maybe that’s why we had a secret marriage, and why when you were born, Satele, we kept things quiet. Kinda blaming Revan and Bastila for starting a line of rulebreakers…”

“Father…” Zho gave a warm chuckle, and kissed his daughter’s brow, then his grandson’s, and vanished once more, his revelation leaving both Shans speechless, while Senya and Shae made to get up and back out. Satele came her senses, and shook her head, taking a deep breath. “Shae? Senya? Please, don’t go…I’m sure that was…absolutely bizarre for you both, but please, stay…” They shared a look, and at Shae’s quiet nod, sat back down; Senya was on firmer ground here, if only just, but Shae looked…spooked, for lack of a better word.

“…So, I’m guessing you never knew…?” Shae murmured, and Satele shook her head, eyes closed.

“I knew my father was a fellow knight, but…my mother died when I was a child, and I was already with Zho as his padawan. He was always just Master to me, but kinder, gentler…at the same time, stricter. Now I understand why…” Theron gave a huff of a laugh, and Satele cracked a smile at him.

“It all makes sense now…Force, it must have killed him to keep that secret to the grave…” Theron murmured, and Satele squeezed his hand.

“I think that’s really why he came back…to prove that we had more than just a shared Master…that there’s always time to fix things.” Theron smiled at that, really smiled, and Senya was struck by just how much like his mother he looked in that moment. He took after his father in eyes and coloring, but his smile was all his mother’s, with a touch of Zho in there in the quirk of his lips.

“Yeah, there is…” He leaned up, kissing her on the forehead, and sighed. “But duty, unfortunately, owns my sorry ass, and I need to go get things in order. Love you, Mama…make this a…thing? Maybe tomorrow?” He asked, sounding so unsure of himself, and Satele kissed his forehead back, both hands cupping his face.

“I love you too, Theron. Go, and call if you need any help at all.” He shot her a weak grin, and sped back off to work, while Satele slumped back into the cushions with a weak laugh. “…You both are looking at me like I’m crazy.”

“Nah, just figured you were overwhelmed.” Some of Shae’s easy-going nature had returned, and she motioned for the Jedi to keep eating. “Eat up, no point in wasting good food.” Satele obeyed, and by the time the three women had finished their plates, Senya gathering up all four dishes, Shae was gently rubbing Satele’s shoulders, and Senya knew that look in Mandalore’s eye.

They’d talked it over extensively over the last six months they’d been together; if there was anyone they might wish to add as a third lover…Satele was first on the list for both of them, and Senya could already feel the beginnings of a dyad between herself and Satele, which, had she not taken the time to research it on the Holonet…

“…thank you both. Sincerely. I…I thought for sure it was all over, that…that Theron would never speak to me again…” Satele murmured, and Senya cuddled up to her other side, rubbing her upper back while the Jedi leaned into them both, melting a little from the gentle touches.

“He’d already came back in the short time we were there…” Senya murmured, and Satele gave her a weak smile, gray-blue eyes weary but relaxed.

“Still. Thank you. For listening. For feeding us…and for not running away screaming at the ghosts.”

“…It was creepy as fuck, but you’re cute enough to make us stay.” Shae sighed out, and Satele burst into laughter, cackling a little as Senya hid a smile. “What?!”

“Oh Force, Shae, I know we were enemies once, but you always know how to make a woman laugh.” Shae grinned at that, looking smug, and Senya just chuckled.

“It’s a strong skillset of hers…just like my empathy is mine. Satele…I can feel the loneliness rolling off of you in waves. It’s been with you for years…” She calmed down, sighing a little, and Senya probed the tentative dyad with careful touches, smiling as Satele closed her eyes and probed back, understanding and a little joy warming between them.

“…so it has. So it has. Your empathy…small wonder you walled yourself off, Senya…” Satele’s eyes were calmer now, and she glanced at Shae, making sure that the lone non-Force user was also in the conversation. “You two…I was surprised to see you two together, but at the same time, I was happy for you…” She trailed off, looking vulnerable now, and it was Shae who spoke up again, this time her voice softer, that familiar rasp Senya’s favorite sound in the world.

“Well, if you wanna give it a shot, riduur, we’d love to have you in the middle. There’s something already with Senya and you, right?”

“How…did you know…?”

“I might not have the Force, but I can read bodies almost as well. And Senya said she’d sensed something the first time she’d met you, a…dayd, right?”

“Dyad, but close enough. A bond, between two souls through the Force. It’s rare…but it’s strong.” Satele bit her lip, worrying at it, and Shae gently took her hand.

“Riduur. Satele. There’s been a bond between us too, we were both just…too indoctrined by other bullshit at the time to see it.” Those blue, blue eyes, warm despite all the storms they’d weathered, watched both her riduur…and her riduur-to-be with a calmness that not even Senya could call up. “I lost my daughters…you lost your whole family. Senya lost everyone but Arcann, and for a time, she’d lost him too. We lost our lovers, and in time, discovered that those weren’t what our hearts had longed for. I had a long time to figure my heart out…have you?” Satele seemed to think on it for a long, long time, dipping her head to stare at her tea; neither Senya nor Shae were impatient, though, holding her hands, Senya radiating love through the bond, Shae’s eyes never leaving Satele’s face.

When those eyes lifted again, though, both women were shocked to see that the storm clouds in Satele’s eyes had parted, leaving sky blue irises, with a hint of gold glimmering in the centers. A warm smile, rich and bright and so lovely it made Senya’s heart ache to see it, and she leaned in, kissing first Shae, then Senya full on the lips, pulling them into her arms.

“…I have. I found where I belong.” Shae grinned, bright and fierce, and Senya laughed, happy as joy from deep within welled up and overflowed, Satele’s power second only to her daughter-in-law’s.

“Good. ‘Bout damn time. C’mon, you two…let’s go let the brats know.”

“Arcann will be thrilled.”

“Torian’ll probably just call me a gold digger, the little shit.”

“…oh crap.” Senya paused as Satele froze, her arm over the Jedi’s shoulder while Satele’s arms were around their waists, and she touched Satele’s cheek, worried.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

“…Theron’s going to kill me.”

“Nah, probably just bitch about it. Hey…” Both of them stared as Shae got a wicked grin on her face, and suddenly, Senya understood exactly how Hylo felt whenever Gault opened his big fat mouth. “We could stage a strip Pazaak tourney. Let the kid really understand what trauma is.”

“Oh Force, Shae, no.”

“…I have a better idea.” Satele’s voice was smug, and she pulled out an old datapad, pulling up a file that crackled for a moment before clearing, revealing a tall man with long dark hair in a half-pony tail, his robes a bit disheveled.

“Is this thing on?”

#swtor #lesbian space moms #momacule #this became a series #I'm not sorry #shae vizla #senya tirall #satele shan #theron shan #arcann #torian cadera #female jedi knight mentioned #female bounty hunter mentioned #shae/senya/satele

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vro0m · 3 years ago

Text

vro0m’s rewatch - 46/288

2009 European GP

Recap + GIFs

So there’s been a 4-week break (not for me of course) and now they’re back in Valencia. Also this is basically mercato time, a lot of contracts are ending. AND. BMW has decided to pull out of Formula 1 so there’s that on top of it. In the meantime, all parties finally agreed to sign the new Concorde agreement re: the regulations for the seasons to come.

Now Eddie Jordan just forced Schumi out of the Ferrari garage to talk. Apparently Massa isn’t coming back after his accident even though he is better, and Michael was considered as a possible replacement, however he has neck pain and can’t drive the car.

So, quali report : some guy, I didn’t catch his name, is filling in for Massa and finished last which is a first for a Ferrari in F1 history, apparently. Luca Badoer, that’s his name. Piquet has been dropped by Renault and replaced by no other than Romain Grosjean. Jenson is 5th, Seb is 4th, Barrichello is 3rd and IT’S A MCLAREN FRONT ROW, LEWIS IS ON POLE!!!

He explains they were able to do only 1 hot lap in each quali too which shows how well they are doing. He describes it as a very casual, very relaxed session, but still tough. He says Heikki did an excellent job. He’s focused on the start of course, given both him and Kovalainen have KERS and he generally makes good starts.

According to him, it’s gonna be way harder for people to overtake them than for them to stay ahead, though. He says he and Kovalainen didn’t talk about racing each other, they want to finish together as a team. He’s gleaming and confident, you just love to see it.

Jake went to visit the factory with him over the break. They look at footage from his racing. He says the feeling you get when you win never gets old, also knowing it’s all thanks to the work the guys do here at the factory. He shows Jake the bay for his car, and he’s very proud of it. He says as he grew up there was Kimi’s bay, David’s bay, Mika’s bay... and now he has his own bay and he sounds like an excited little boy as he says it. “This is the bay for my car.”

They’re standing beside these screens that show his onboards as they talk and Jake notes that he can’t stop looking at it, so obviously he didn’t lose his love for F1 even though people doubted that last year and at the beginning of this season. Lewis says of course not, he’s not lost the love for speed, adrenaline, working with a huge team, the excitement building up.

Back to the factory bays, Jake asks about the changes they make to his car. He claims he notices every aero upgrade they ever did. First of all, he says, he notices everything. But also everytime he comes here he goes down to the wind tunnel and asks them about it : why aren’t we testing this, have you done this, have you tried that. He always makes sure he’s on top of things. In his opinion, to be the best you need to do the work all around, you can’t just get in the car. You need to be the fittest, you need to understand and know your car, everything.

Now they talk about the WDC. Jenson told him during the drivers parade at the last race that he could “do him a favour that day” = help him not lose as many points that mattered in the championship by winning, so they don’t go to a serious contender for the title. Lewis smiles. He says he’ll keep doing his part if he can.

He tells Jake you need to come to the factory for a whole week to really understand everything that happens here. “I could talk to you for ages about this car.”

Then he forces Jake to do pull-ups in the gym, and he can only manage one, lol. He makes fun of him.

We’re now on the grid and lmao, Brundle is talking to Zapatero I think?!

Formation lap.

And they’re racing!

Good clean start for Lewis and Kovalainen! Jenson down in 8th. One lap in, Lewis is already 1.5 seconds ahead of his teammate.

10 laps in, it’s almost 6. It’s gonna be a chill race, I guess. He’s so quick. So quick. Of course, we also know Kovalainen didn’t get all the aero improvements Lewis’ car got but still. Very fast.

He pits on lap 15, he’s now 6th. Oh, Seb stopped too but then the team figured the fuel thing wasn’t working properly so he has to stop again for fuel.

20 laps in, Barrichello undercut Kovalainen during his pitstop and is now 2nd after Lewis, who is back in the lead. The team tells him the temperatures (we guess it’s the brakes) are very high and he needs to lift up just a little. Seb is out of the race, he parks his car on the car near a gap in the wall so they quietly push him off the track and there’s no need for a Safety Car. It was a brand new engine on top of that. RedBulls seem to have issues with reliability.

30 laps in, no change.

With 21 laps to go, Lewis pits again but omg, the tyres weren’t ready and he’s losing time! What a mistake. I can’t believe what I’m watching. Now Barrichello who was in the lead pits too, and. Yep. He is still far ahead, what a shame. His team tells Lewis that Barrichello is 4 seconds ahead and he has the whole stint to catch him, plus his on option tyres which aren’t doing very well. Yeah well that’s just easy to say, to catch him is one thing (not easy to begin with) and then to overtake him is another thing entirely.

And yeah, with 10 laps to go, Lewis isn’t catching up to Barrichello, he’s losing on him. His team tells him he is bridging that gap, though, which. What. Anyway, he keeps the pressure on. People are starting to have serious brake issues because it’s so hot.

And it’s the end of the race!

Barrichello wins, Lewis is 2nd. Not far behind but he couldn’t catch him. Kovalainen is 3rd.

Look, it’s not ideal for Lewis, but Barrichello is literally crying and he has a helmet honouring Massa so I’ll allow it.

In the press conference, the journalist tells Lewis his team did miracles putting a winning car together this season but there’s no denying they costed him the victory today. Lewis answers, you guessed it, “we win and we lose together”. He says they can’t take second place for granted (fair point). They’re disappointed they didn’t get the win because they had extraordinary pace but these things (he means this kind of mishaps) happen, and they happen very rarely to McLaren on top of it. In the amount of races he did with them, overall they deserve a pat on the back, he concludes.

Later on, in the media pen, he reiterates that he’s happy to be here, but he does look disappointed. He’s not complaining, he says, it’s huge improvement even though they still have a lot of work to do. Weirdly, Whitmarsh keeps saying there was no issue with the pit stop, there was a pace problem. Mmmmh.

Lewis is like “yeah they never do pit stops errors these guys”. I mean we all saw them fumbling with the tyres while you were waiting there but sure, whatever you say. He explains they were unsure he had enough fuel for that extra lap and just as he was coming in they realised he did and told him not to pit but it was too late, he was already in the lane. So they did make a mistake and it wasn’t the pace, right? In terms of improvements, Lewis says they have to make sure they are quick enough even without KERS which isn’t the case at the moment.

#f1 #lewis hamilton #2009 #2009 european gp #vro0m's race reviews

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