#was trying to have fun over different cultural approaches to eye contact | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drivinmeinsane · 5 months

Text

Holiday Party ※ 12 Days of Goosemas

Day Five ※ Julian Thompson / Reader

{12 Days of Goosemas Masterlist} ※ {Regular Masterlist} ※ {ao3}

※ Summary: Julian's brother always hosts the worst parties. This one is no different.

※ Rating: 18+ for explicit mature content.

※ Content/Tags: Pre-Canon, Questionable Relationship Dynamics, AFAB!Reader, Prostitution, Fingering, Erectile Dysfunction, Canon-typical Bullying/Harassment

※ Word count: 1449

※ Status: Oneshot/Complete

Mirrors make it impossible to hide. Even now, as you pull your dress up over your chest, you can see Julian reflected behind you. Your employer is seated with his hands firmly gripping the armrests as though he might be tempted to do something else if he were not hanging on so tightly that the skin is bleached white over his knuckles. He’s been having to restrain himself more and more frequently. Lately, he has been having you blindfold him in addition to tying him into place, leaving him to bite his lips bloody at the sounds of you pleasuring yourself.

The dress that he had mutely requested you wear for tonight is scandalously short. It barely covers your crotch, the entirety of your legs are on display. Despite its revealing nature, it fits the kind of party that you will be attending with Julian tonight. His ever generous brother has decided he is going to host a holiday party to “give Thailand a taste of real American culture”. It’s a thinly veiled excuse to host a sex party. Billy makes your skin crawl and the way he treats Julian is appalling.

You’re putting the finishing touches on your hair when you catch movement in the mirror. Julian has stood up and is approaching you while he fishes a small box out of his pocket. He opens it and tosses the empty box aside once he has retrieved the object from inside. It’s a necklace. He brings it over your head and you bare your throat to him so he can drape it over the column of your neck. You then tip your chin down. His fingers make the barest contact with the skin at your nape.

“Zip me up?” You ask him quietly.

He finds the zipper nestled in the small of your back. Over your shoulder, you watch the way he lingers. He closes his eyes and makes a motion as though he was going to kiss the side of your neck or your exposed shoulder. He refrains, his knuckles drag up your spine as he slowly works the zipper of your dress closed. Julian hooks the small latch and steps back, looking pained. You let out the breath that you’ve been holding and resist the urge to bridge the growing gap between the two of you.

Before you head out the door to the venue, Julian offers you a suit jacket, his own, and you slip it on over your shoulders for warmth. The only sounds on the walk through the streets are the distant rumbles of the occasional car, the clack of your heels on the pavement, and the softly rustling fabric of your clothes. Your employer doesn’t speak during the journey, he rarely does anyway. You can understand why.

You know that Billy and his groupies will have some kind of complaint prepared the minute they lay eyes on the man at your side. They always do. Little Julian just isn’t good enough. He doesn’t have a big enough dick, doesn’t fuck as well as his brother, isn’t mean enough, isn’t perverted enough. He’s too quiet, too loud. Why don’t you talk, Julian? Why don’t you ever shut up, Julian? Why don’t you just kill yourself, Julian? It doesn’t matter what he does. He exists and that is a crime worth punishment on its own.

The party goes as predicted. The men initially try to paw at you because you belong to Julian. They end up being bitterly disappointed because you don’t seem to care about the man who has bought your time, and he does not seem to pay you any special attention either. If neither of you care, there is no fun in using your relationship as another way to torment Julian.

Smoke hangs heavy in the air as the guests begin to take seats for the night amongst the gaudy decorations. Their chosen company drapes their bodies over them, teasing and touching if not borderline fucking right there in plain sight. A few of the men go to the stage and obnoxiously start belting out Christmas songs in a mixture of Thai and broken English.

Julian sits down with some sort of festively garnished Old Fashioned in a glass. You take a seat on his lap. He tenses. You pay it no mind and catch his free hand, putting his arm around you and nestling against his side. He needs comfort even if he would never admit it. You've gotten good at knowing what your employer needs and how much of it you can give to him before he withdraws. One by one, the other men start to trickle out of the party hall with their purchased company.

“Merry Christmas, brother.” Julian’s sibling says to him with a sneer as he takes his own leave. “Shame your dick doesn't work or that pretty thing on your lap might actually get some action for once.”

Billy departs, a pair concerningly young girls with him, leaving you and Julian alone. The man’s hand is warm against your side, and you feel the occasional tremor run though him. You desperately want to tell Julian that his brother is a scum of the Earth asshole whose opinion doesn’t matter, but you don’t. Your employer is unwaveringly loyal to his family outwardly despite whatever he might believe privately in the less beat-down parts of his mind.

Pushing the boundaries tonight, you decide to make him feel as though he is needed. You’ve come to genuinely care about the man. You press your face against the side of his neck, feeling the jump of his throat, the uptick in his pulse. You want to mouth at the sensitive skin, but you don’t. It would be too much for him. The two of you rest there and breathe for a moment, letting Julian’s pulse come down.

On his own accord, the hand not resting on your side moves to cover one of your exposed knees. It lingers for a while before he slowly starts easing it up and over the curve of your thigh. His fingertips reach the hem of your dress and pause there. You spread your legs in silent encouragement, the motion hikes the material up higher. He takes the hint and continues. His thumb comes to rest at the inside of your thigh, barely avoiding the juncture of your legs. You nod against his neck and his fingers hook over the waistband of your underwear. In one smooth movement, he pulls them down and off before his hand returns to its previous home. You take it in yours and insistently press it against yourself, letting him cup the shape of you in his palm, letting him feel the wetness of you against his skin.

His fingers dive between your lips and you have to stifle a moan against his neck. Encouraged, his fingers gather slickness up at your entrance and glide over your clit. He circles it and your body twitches and flexes under his touch. You’re dripping, the tissue becoming engorged as Julian primes you to fuck you with his fingers. He slips two of them into your body, his pointer and his middle. He pumps them inside, shallow thrusts with a slight crook to them on each outward drag. His thumb finds your clit and steadily rubs against it.

In response, you grab at his shoulder with your left hand, squeezing down tightly enough that he lets out a small, pleased grunt. You’re rewarded with an uptick in speed, your cunt clenches around his fingers. The sounds filling the empty room are obscenely wet.

A firm press to your swollen clit and the grind of his thick fingers inside of you is what sends you over the edge. Your thighs clamp down around his wrist and he works you through your orgasm. You muffle your moans against his neck, daring to kiss it with frantic scrapes of your teeth and needy lips. The hand on your waist tightens warningly but he doesn’t stop you. He’s shuddering right along with you, his legs trembling. You know he’s come soft, untouched in his dress pants.

Julian pulls his hand free, you reflexively clench around nothing. He puts his fingers in his mouth to suck them clean, tasting you, before tugging the hem of your dress back down to a barely more modest length. He makes no effort to push you off of him, and you make no movements to vacate. The two of you simply exist in this false wonderland. You’re just as out of place as the presence of the festive decorations in this room. There is no point in fighting your shared fate.

#12 days of goosemas #only god forgives (2013)#only god forgives #only god forgives fanfiction #julian thompson #julian thompson x reader #julian thompson fanfiction #ryan gosling #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling fanfiction #.my work #.my posts

28 notes · View notes

chemicalpink · 3 years

Text

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Roasting Jungkook's Virgoness ੈ✩‧₊˚ | Astrology

Disclaimer: This analysis is based on my experience and knowledge of astrology, it is not meant to be the absolute truth, as BTS are real people, and astrology can only capture so much about multidimensional humans that have had past experiences and cultural approaches amongst other things, it does not have to resonate with you since this is in no way related to anyone reading it (unless you are a member of BTS in which case, get out of here lol ) This is just for entertainment purposes. Please remember that in cases of rising signs, I will be using the general consensus of the astro community on which we think fits best for them.

A/N: Well here she is, on the Namkook Birthday Project, now we dive a little bit on astrology. Hope you enjoy!

masterlist. tarot masterlist. astrology masterlist.

Boy oh boy we’re in for a long ride with this man and his 6 Virgo placements. Similar to Namjoon, I found it quite interesting to see how his Virgo interacts with other personal placements so that it could shine a light on just how they both are, yes, very much Virgos, yet different types of Virgos. In Jungkook’s case, his Libra placements do tell a lot.

Virgo Sun, yes, I’ve said we Virgo Suns are pretty homogenous so Joon’s roast does apply to Jungkook to some extent, however while Namjoon could take hours of criticism with a straight face, Jungkook would most probably put an end to it at some point. He really does be his own harshest critic. He doesn’t need to be told what he could be doing better, he’s been thinking about that himself, thank you very much. A word for JK, we get it, we’re not as good as you in some stuff, that doesn’t give you the right to make fun of us. King of having high expectations on pretty much anything as little or as big as they come, things will always just be a standard with this man. It’s pretty funny how his Virgo Sun works with his alleged Libra rising, this man just refuses to age and we’ve been witnesses of that. He’s always trying to learn new things, but please do tell how are you supposed to meet your own sky high standards if you keep jumping from one thing onto the other?

Virgo Mercury, a double, the epitome of virgo energy. We know Jungkookie is a smart man, in various sense of the concept itself, the thing here is tho… what exactly is this intelligence doing if not being gatekept? Jungkook the type of man that will see you struggling with something, know how it’s supposed to be done yet remain silent just because it’s funnier this way.

Virgo Fortune, I wanna preface this by saying WE CAN’T BE GOOD AT EVERYTHING OKAY WE ARE HUMAN, so remember how JK has said that although some things come easy for him to do and others not so much to a point where it frustrates him plus the whole Golden Maknae deblacle? Well look no further, that’s his Virgo Fortune, it’s a pretty- funny placement. Things that are conventionally perceived as “difficult” come SO EASY to him yet things that are considered “easy” are where he struggles the most and pairing that up with his medium tolerance to criticism, just really takes a toll on him. Someone tell this man that it’s okay to not know how to do easy stuff as long as you’re willing to learn. But that’s the thing- since “things you must practice for” come naturally, it’s just weird for him to be willing to practice for the easy stuff.

Jungkook saying he likes the smell of laundry detergent is probably the most extrapolar Virgo Lilith he could say, and listen, he might not be the most order-driven one out there in a traditional way but watch this man have the little things like his playlists organised to a tee. This placement also gives him the main difference with Virgo Joon on the fact that he’s the sensitive type of Virgo rather than the stoic one. It’s quite the placement, so I’d just say How’s the whole ‘trying not to be too much of a dark sided Virgo’ going?

Virgo Node, let’s get this over and done with Hey JK, how are the personal boundaries going? still letting people in even when you know you don’t exactly do well with them?

And finally, our lovely 12th House Virgo. Say it with me: You’re not Bob the Builder, stop trying to fix everything and everyone you come in contact with. It’s tempting, I would know but believe it or not, there’s beauty in imperfections too, your eyes are just untrained for it.

#cp: namkook #bts astrology #kpop astrology #jungkook astrology #jeon jungkook

91 notes · View notes

phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Note

I’ve been trying to figure out the best obi wan ship. They all have one slightly problematic thing this way or that. I’ve landed on the idea of obi wan and an equal is pretty top tier. But then I saw a picture of Coran from voltron. Coran and Obiwan might be a disaster but also both are dad shaped, both are bad ass, both are ginger, both have an accent. I think it could work. But another part of me is like Coran is just obi and jarjar mashed together. At the very least they hooked up.

Hey I just had restaurant ramen and Starbucks and actually feel like a human being so let's do something unnecessary but funny. I'm taking this as a challenge, anon.

Also IMO Coran has more in common with C3P0 than with JarJar

So obviously, both of these happen in Big Space, but the difference appears to be density. We see about the same complexity of culture and species interactions, but Voltron covers more galaxies. It's vaguely implied that Earth, at least, is the only planet with sapient life in the Milky Way.

I think the way I want to play this out, culturally, is that the Voltron area of the universe covers a much wider, but much more sparsely populated area, while the SW-verse is just the one very densely populated (in part because apparently humans just went Literally Everywhere) galaxy, where they didn't necessarily bother with developing the tech to go to other galaxies (except Rishi, which only sort of counts) because they haven't really even charted out their own yet. It was never contacted by the Voltron side of things because [checks notecards full of excuses] it's really far away from Altea and all that, and the Force shielded the galaxy from Galra interests because Reasons.

All this to say that the two franchises didn't interact until after the Voltron plotline was already over. We'll say it went mostly canon, except Allura survived because uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck that.

We'll say that this is mid-TCW, you know, before Obi-Wan is a bundle of repressed traumas and bad coping mechanisms that's lost almost everyone he's ever loved to the dark side through death or corruption. He's still (mostly) okay! Anakin's not dark (or at least, not as dark as he could be; Obi-Wan doesn't know about the Tuskens), and Ahsoka's still in good standing and most people are alive and--and okay the army is a massive ethical violation he hates with his very soul and he misses Qui-Gon and Anakin's keeping secrets and pulling away from him every day but He's Fine, Guys.

He's Fine.

In comes a ship from not Wild Space, but beyond that. Intergalactic visitors, from the direction of the deeply concerning Force bullshit they felt a few years ago. Translation tech is decent enough on both sides that they get to talking pretty quickly. The explorer is actually a member of the Blade of Marmora, who gets the absolute most basic info (approximately this many inhabited planets, approximately this many trillions of sapients in the recorded galaxy, basic structure of the government for the past however many years, most recent conflict, etc.)

BoM person is like "cool, okay so you guys are really well set-up so I'm just gonna head back and kick this up a few rungs of the coalition ladder because this is way above my paygrade, I'll make sure you get some diplomats who can maybe help out with the whole galactic civil war situation as neutral parties."

The Voltron Coalition does send a diplomat! They, uh, also send Coran, who isn't technically a diplomat, but he's high-level.

The thing is, okay, that Coran is mostly just... passably competent at things. He's a jack of all trades, master of none type. He knows a lot of things, actually, but his practical knowledge in high pressure situations tends to be up in the air. He knows how to fix the Castle Ship and various technologies, but all of that info is ten thousand years out of date. He was a competent fighter at one point but these days his back gives out. He's very knowledgeable regarding intergalactic politics but, again, that information is ten thousand years out of date. He's also a little prone to social gaffs in dicey situations (e.g. the inciting incident in the Voltron Show episode where he misses the single day with clear skies), but puts in so much goddamn effort to make things happen.

In this manner, he's like a warped mirror of what Obi-Wan is and could be.

THAT SAID

Coran is actually really good with teenagers, and specifically with training them.

And Obi-Wan... isn't.

Obi-Wan's snarky and snippy and sassy, and he's decent enough at teaching and he's great at being a jokey friend and all, but he's not necessarily very good at emotions. And unfortunately for Obi-Wan, the teenagers he spends the most time with are Really Full Of Emotions. He tries, bless him, but he's just... he doesn't respond well to emotional conversations at the best of times.

His son-figure saying "You're like a father to me" leads to a response of... radio silence. Guys. That's not the mark of a man who knows how to talk about his feelings with the people he cares about.

In swans Coran with the various other diplomatic envoys of the visiting extragalactic community. The entire situation is really leading to a lull in the war because nobody wants to risk pissing off this clearly well-funded, well-powered third party. As a result, many of the High Generals can interact with the envoys, even if they spend quite a bit of time eyeing the Separatist representatives on the other side of the room, because clearly Everyone Needs A Seat At This Table.

It's a very tense situation.

Obviously, Coran is exactly the weird uncle that goes around telling plausibly-exaggerated stories about Weblums and Yalmors and Balmeras. I'm going to say at least one former Paladin is there, maybe Hunk. Hunk's fun, and also very willing to help Coran make friends and seem Amicable instead of Distant by correcting some of the exaggerations. There's a nice, calm atmosphere in a bubble around Coran and his nonsense, and it's a weird situation but arguably just... you know. It's good. He's good at making people feel safe around him.

Cue the hissed argument between Skywalker and Kenobi. The actual cause of said argument isn't important, just the fact that, in a dark corner where they're less likely to cause a PR issue, Anakin and Obi-Wan are having it out. Anakin's maybe twenty, still a lanky ragebaby, all that fun stuff. Obi-Wan is a the endpoint of every too-young brotherdad. He's thirty-six but feels like he's sixty-three. He's tired, but trying so damn hard to still connect with Anakin and just--just--

Obi-Wan gives himself a few minutes to calm down before following Anakin. He doesn't even remember what they were arguing about, really, but he has to mend the bridge before it frays even more than it already has. If Anakin goes to Palpatine for advice again, he's going to... do something. Obi-Wan isn't sure what, but he just has to fix this.

What he finds is... well, Anakin did end up going to vent to a man of an earlier generation who acts like a slightly eccentric older relative, but it's not Palpatine for once.

The goofy, slightly abrasive but mostly charming, brightly-colored representative of the Voltron Coalition is standing in the little balcony that Anakin's made it to, listening as Obi-Wan's recently-knighted padawan vents. The man nods and makes noises at the appropriate times, and then asks questions that are... maybe a little too accurate.

"You said that you view him as a father, that he raised you after you left your mother."

"Well, yeah, but he doesn't think I'm ready, or--"

"No parent ever does."

"...my mom thought I was ready to become a Jedi."

"I can't speak for your mother," the representative says, "but the princess of my people, Allura... I half-raised that girl from the beginning, and after the destruction of Altea, we were all the other had left. I watched her lead battles and bring life to planets, trying to rebuild a universe out of the ashes of what we'd left behind... I saw the evidence with my own eyes, and I still, every time, I worried for her."

"Why?"

"I worried that she'd be hurt, that she wasn't ready, that she'd make a decision she regretted. Often, she did, and I had to help her back up, and while she's always come back, stronger than before... she is the closest thing I have ever had to a daughter, and I will always worry for her. Every parent does. Do you think, perhaps, that your own Jedi Master, that you consider a father, may worry because he looks at you like a son? That it's not that he doesn't trust you, but that he doesn't trust the world around you?"

Obi-Wan feels his heart in his throat.

The conversation continues in that vein. While Obi-Wan can't say he likes the fact that this stranger is putting words in his mouth, if only as hypotheticals, he can't deny that there's a part of him that relaxes as Anakin does, as every frustrated fresh-knight question gets a measured elderly-steward response that's angled to consider the interpretation that favors Anakin and Obi-Wan in equal measure. Every word encourages Anakin to talk things out and lay boundaries and express his frustrations to Obi-Wan in the plainest words possible.

There's a story in there, more than one. The representative tends to go off on tangents, ones that Anakin sometimes finds interesting and sometimes just resigns himself to. Mostly, though, it goes well, and Obi-Wan... well, he's always been 'a nosy little bastard,' according to quite a few people.

(In his defense, the terms they'd used about Quinlan's 'investigative personality' had been quite a bit stronger.)

He eavesdrops to the end, and Anakin doesn't notice at all. Obi-Wan's not sure if he should try to address Anakin's lack of awareness of the world around him. He's not technically Anakin's master anymore. The comment may be taken as a criticism of his worth and capability, rather than a sincere desire to see his padawan not die.

He approaches the representative instead. He intends to introduce himself. Instead, the first words that tumble out of his mouth are:

"How do you do it?"

The man--older than he looks from a distance, more wrinkles than the bright hair would suggest, but not quite elderly yet--turns and lifts a brow. "Hm?"

"I'm sorry, I'm--" Obi-Wan grimaces. "I'm Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. The young man you were just talking to is my former padawan, er, my former apprentice. I've been finding it harder and harder to speak with him over the past few years, and it seems that every interaction we have leads to an argument. How do you... manage that? I can't get him to listen to me at all."

"Ah, teenagers," the man sighs.

"He's twenty."

The representative pauses, and turns to him. "Are you the one he says raised him? The father?"

"Well... yes, I suppose that's one way to phrase it," Obi-Wan says, eyes darting to the side. He doesn't know how to explain the whole attachment situation to someone who barely knows what a Jedi is. He has even less of an idea of how to explain his own broken ability to speak of emotion, the parts of his mind that Bant clucks over and attributes to his own complicated relationship with Qui-Gon. "I had custody as his primary guardian from ages nine to nineteen and was the primary individual for handling his schooling, health, and general upbringing."

"That sounds to me like a very convoluted way of saying you were his father in all but name."

Obi-Wan grimaces. "I'm not exactly old enough to be his father, and I wasn't exactly the person he was supposed to learn from; I was the... back-up option."

"It seems he cares for you very much."

"He didn't have much of a choice," Obi-Wan says, with the kind of helpless smile and awkward shrug he's long gotten used to sharing with people when they ask. "And I assure you he'd have been happier with the man that was meant to teach him."

"I'd say that the 'would have' in this situation is much less important than what is," the representative says. Obi-Wan probably should have paid more attention to his name. "I wasn't in a position to define my relation to Allura or her father in the way that truly suited our situation, by... oh, tradition, social norms, public relations, take your pick. I was a very well-regarded official, of course, but I wasn't royalty, not even nobility, and I certainly wasn't wasn't legally or publicly part of the family. But for all the limitations there, I was still able to find ways to tell her and her family what they meant to me, and they in return. Your apprentice cares for you very much, and I'm sure you care back, but I'd hazard quite the guess that you've no idea how to tell him that."

"I... I shouldn't," Obi-Wan says. "I'm fond of him, of course, but I've no wish to smother him, and to simply say it would be undignified. I imagine he'd laugh in my face."

The representative raises one eyebrow and takes a sip of his drink.

"Master Kenobi," he says carefully. "Might I suggest you go find your young man, tell him you love him, and perhaps give him a hug?"

Obi-Wan's face flares red. It's been years since anyone short of Yoda has spoken to him like that.

"I'm not a child," he sniffs, trying to angle enough away that the blush isn't as noticeable. He's damnably prone to such things. "You're not that much older than me."

The man laughs, and Obi-Wan lifts his glass to his lips in a futile attempt to hid the embarrassment a little more. "Oh, not counting the stasis, I've well reached the age of six hundred and twenty-four, my boy!"

Obi-Wan chokes on his drink.

The man laughs a little more, but thumps him on the back until he's breathing normally again.

"Yes, most of the humans I've told have had quite the reaction!" the representative assures him. "But yes, even with the times adjusted to what any given local year is, I am significantly longer-lived than most species."

"No kidding," Obi-Wan manages. He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand and looks over at the representative. He takes in the wrinkles and bright eyes, and says, "Well, I must say you look very well for a near-human of such an age. I can only name one person in that category that has managed better, and I haven't seen her since I was a child."

"I shall take that as the compliment it's intended to be," the representative says, twisting the edge of his mustache and beaming.

The man is... well, goofy, really, and quite a bit older than Obi-Wan had thought, but he's quite the charmer. Obi-Wan faintly compares him to a few different people in the back of his mind, but nothing quite fits. For all that the man is quite the jokester and--going by some things he'd seen from the corner of his eye in the main party--a master of physical comedy, the representative is actually more competent than he looks, and for all his visible age, not bad to look at. He is also, seemingly, an expert in dealing with teenagers and young adults, something Obi-Wan himself is... decidedly not.

He really should go speak with Anakin.

And there's a war to fight.

He doesn't really have much time, even with the recent lull.

He's in no place to be looking at the clean-shaven jaw and wondering what it would feel like under his lips, or to let himself consider whether this man would be the kind to have an hours-long discussion as to the narrative forms common in other galaxies, and whether they have anything paralleled to those in Obi-Wan's own, or if this man would show the same enthusiasm over teas that he'd shown over the hors d'oeuvres inside.

He should... really go find Anakin.

"I suppose it's time to find my padawan," he says, more to fill the air than anything. "Er... thank you, both for speaking with him, and for speaking with me."

"Not a problem at all, Master Kenobi!" the representative says, and Obi-Wan realizes that there's one last thing he may have... forgotten.

"This is terribly embarrassing, but I don't believe I caught your name?" Obi-Wan says.

"Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, at your service!" the man says, with a sweeping bow. "As you can imagine, most simply call me Coran."

"Then I insist you call me Obi-Wan," he says, and before he can stop himself, "Might I bother you with an invitation to a shared tea time? You seem a knowledgeable fellow, and I'd appreciate the chance to... eh, pick your brain, shall we say."

It's not the smoothest come on he's ever put out there, or the most easily interpreted, but... well. Perhaps it's for the best. He's rather often found his tastes going in irresponsible directions, and it'll be much easier to brush this off without diplomatic incident if there's room for Coran to politely ignore the less platonic options.

Obi-Wan hopes he doesn't.

It's very selfish of him, but a dalliance with an older gentleman... well. He does, perhaps, make such irresponsible decisions, even now.

"I do believe I'd enjoy such a thing!" Coran enthuses, grabbing Obi-Wan's hand and shaking it in large, effusive movements.

Oh, this is a terrible idea, Obi-Wan thinks, even as he exchanges comm numbers and says goodbye.

Still.

He likes the idea of having at least a little fun, sedate or less so, while they have some time to themselves.

#Obi Wan Kenobi #Coran Smythe #Coran #coran hieronymus wimbleton smythe #anakin skywalker #Star Wars #Voltron #crossovers #Phoenix Posts #Phoenix Answers Asks #parenting

106 notes · View notes

itscalledbisexualcrisis · 3 years

Text

Legacy

Request: Hii! Could you do a angst/fluff with Kuvira where r is like from an important family and they meet when they're young but then r joins the avatar? Finish how you'd like! Thank youu

Thank you to depressed-bi-bitch for the request, this was a lot of fun writing!

When Suyin was creating Zaofu, she knew she needed a dependable supply of metal. The valley, where eventually Zaofu would be erected, was a small mining village. It had an abundance of precious metals, but were predominantly used in trade with neighboring villages. There, Suyin met your family, the esteemed owners of one of the largest mines of the village. Suyin was eloquent with her ideas and clear passion for leading people. Her husband, Baatar, had already made a name for himself as an architect from Ba Sing Se. Meanwhile your family was one of the established families of the village, producing most of the metals and negotiating with outsiders trade deals. Together, your family and the Beifongs created Zaofu, a technological city of the future.

Growing up in a sprawling metal city was like living in a story tale. Big spiraling metal structures, an abundance of art and culture blooming all around you, and spending most of your childhood with the Beifong family were your earliest memories. You were surprised one day, while playing with Opal in the Beifong estate, to find Suyin bringing in another child. The girl seemed older than both you and Opal and she had a firm pout on her lips. Her clothes were more plain compared to what usual Zaofu citizens wore and she wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone.

“This is Kuvira. She’ll be living with us and be part of our family now, Opal. Think of her like your sister,” she introduced.

From being the adored only daughter to having to share with another little girl was not easy for Opal to adjust. Including sharing you, her childhood best friend.

“I don’t want a new sister!”

The way Kuvira’s face was already apprehensive, turned into a scowl quickly as she looked between the two of you before running off.

While Suyin sat down with Opal and tried to explain Kuvira’s situation, you went off to find Kuvira. She was sitting down under a low hanging awning by the river. You could hear small sniffles coming from her. Six year old you approached her without caution, bumbling up to her with the perkiness only a child could contain.

“Hi.” You introduced yourself to her with a wide toothy grin and a welcoming outstretched hand. She jumped and turned around, quickly wiping away a stray tear. Her deadpan glare penetrated your outstretched hand left open. Being a child, you didn’t let it affect you. Instead you asked, “Do you want to come to my house? I have a dollhouse we can play with!”

Kuvira hesitated, looking from your still extended hand to your beaming face.

“Opal doesn’t like me.”

“Opal’s not coming.”

Oh to grow up with Kuvira. She was quite hot tempered as a child. And you admit, some days it was hard being her friend. She let her emotions take control, most of the time not realizing that she was bending until the dolls were disfigured under her metal grip. You never blamed it on Kuvira though, and you always came back to each other at the end of the day. It took a long time under Suyin’s guidance for Kuvira to gain a better understanding of her own earthbending. But once she did, it was like a flip switched.

While gaining more control, she became more reserved. She pulled farther from the Beifongs and moved out of the estate, choosing to live with the guards in the dormitories instead when she became a teenager. It didn’t change your close relationship though. From running around your estate playing games to her joining you in your metals lab in your research to helping her study for her test to join the Metal Guards; you and Kuvira supported one another through everything.

In the back of your mind you always knew things weren’t great for Kuvira at the Beifongs. But it was always something so hard to bring up to Kuvira whenever you tried to get her to talk about it. It also complicated your friendship with Opal, navigating between their polar personalities was always a challenge. So you opted not to, instead playing mostly neutral grounds and after she moved out, things did get better.

As you got older, there was more pressure on you to take on the family business. Your whole life you’ve studied metals and how different properties of metals work together to create new things. An inventor, truly gifted, but there were always parts of you that wanted to leave Zaofu.

“I don’t want to study rocks my whole life. I want to learn from other cultures, get a bigger insight!” you confessed one day to Kuvira. You lay back on the soft grass of the lawn. You were visiting the Beifongs casually one afternoon when you ran into your favorite guard. It took minimal convincing for her to take a break from duty to lie with you. It was known that Kuvira always had a soft spot for you. It took one big smile to get her to crumble to you.

But seeing you smile was something she could never get enough of. “You wouldn’t leave me here alone, would you?” Kuvira semi joked.

“I’d take you with me, of course,” you laughed. “See the world together. Maybe fight some bad guys, who knows?”

Kuvira knew that would never be possible. Not with how Suyin ran things, but she didn’t say that, choosing instead to have a lighter hearted moment with you.

Going through the ranks, she saw potential in the Metal Guards, in the people of Zaofu actually. The fact that Suyin rejected most international requests, slowly infuriated her over the years. She watched as her fellow soldiers grew in strength, but all of it went to waste within the metal domes. Kuvira had long surpassed everything Suyin taught her, choosing to go off in her own studies to continue growing as a bender. When not on duty, you’d find her studying different types of bending in the Zaofu library or coming to your lab to practice with rarer metals. Sometimes it seemed like Kuvira never stopped at bettering herself.

You were mesmerized every time you saw Kuvira use her bending. Something as simple as making casual shapes from a slab of meteorite could keep you entertained for hours. It was times like these that were your favorite. She had her armor off and was sporting a long green sleeved spandex shirt with her dark green uniform pants. Her braid was slightly disfigured and helmet thrown off to the side somewhere. She was playing with a piece of meteorite, leaning forward on the bench as she manipulated it with firm concentration. The way her hands moved delicately through the air with precision; every crook and bend of her fingers and knuckles; how soft yet also strong they looked as they bent the metal into a small flower. It rested perfectly in her slender palm as she handed it to you.

It made your stomach flutter and a heat build in your chest. You reached out to take it from her and suddenly feeling nervous. Almost immediately, a gust of wind blew Kuvira over the bench making her tumble down and the metal flower scattering somewhere on the ground.

You both were left gaping. You were born as a non bender, so suddenly being able to airbend made you freak out. Kuvira grabbed your wrists, telling you to breathe as you started rambling off about never being able to bend before and not being the daughter of Avatar Aang and what if your mother had secretly had an affair with the AVATAR and oh god what would your father think-

“We need to find Suyin.”

Learning that Opal also gained airbending made you feel better, and it was something you two could bond over. Suddenly you were spending more time with Opal, trying to learn more about this new weird power to Kuvira’s dismay.

When Avatar Korra and her crew came to Zaofu to rebuild the Air Nation, you laughed off the idea of becoming an Air Nomad. Your future was set in the metals your family mined. You were supposed to live your life in Zaofu, continue your legacy here to grow the city.

“This is where I belong,” you said sheepishly. Korra seemed disappointed, but if that’s what you wanted there was nothing she could do. Although she did debate dragging you on to the ship, kidnapping an heiress to an empire would definitely cause an international crisis that Korra frankly couldn’t afford.

Kuvira was relieved to say the least. The fear of losing her closest friend didn’t sit well with her. But she also saw how you were with your new bending, carefully exploring what your bending could do; how it frustrated you when you couldn’t gain your own footing straight or when wind would blow back in your face.

“Maybe you should consider it.” Kuvira’s response surprised you. It was another day at your estate this time laying on the grass. It was one of Kuvira’s few days off. When she became the Captain, her free time became very limited, but this afternoon was a peaceful rarity. Tonight would be Opal’s farewell dinner, where you would be saying your final goodbyes before she boarded the airship to the Northern Air Temple. You were casually bending a circle of air above your heads, watching as leaves swirl around in a hypnotizing way. It immediately dissipates upon Kuvira’s confession, leaves slowly falling around the two of you.

“What?” you snort. “I thought you’d be the first person to ask me to stay.”

It left a lump in Kuvira’s throat. She never wanted to be the reason you held back your potential. She knew how talented you were as an inventor, but to bring that strength as an airbender? And the opportunity for you to build a nation that was up until recently deemed extinct? Kuvira knows an honor like that is something you’d thrive in, and the only way you could do that is to leave Zaofu.

So with some more convincing from Kuvira, you came around to the thought of being an Air Nomad. Sure shaving your head wasn’t the most appealing thing, but to be able to explore the world outside of Zaofu? It felt like this was your true calling all along. And Kuvira was the one to help you realize that. You gaze softly at her face, trying to find any hint of doubt you could. But she wholeheartedly believed in you and that in the end is what had you knocking on Korra’s door before the big dinner.

“Avatar Korra, I’ve changed my mind. I will join Opal to the Northern Air Temple and help rebuild the Air Nation.” Korra’s face broke into a wide grin and she gave a big cheer, deeming another success in her Avatar duties. You smiled back, feeling giddy at the thought of finding something more than rocks and metals for your future.

Seeing you and Opal boarding the aircraft shattered Kuvira’s heart. Her face is stone and her back is straight, watching the two of you talk wildly about your new adventures to come.

It seemed like at the last second, you pulled away from Opal and turned around, catching Kuvira’s unwavering gaze. You bite your bottom lip and tell Opal to go on without you, that’d you catch up momentarily. She was confused, but realized what you were doing when you ran back down the ramp and towards Kuvira.

Before she knows what’s happening or can ask what in the spirits you were doing, you nearly plow Kuvira over with a bone crushing hug, knocking her helmet right off her head. Burying your face into the crook of her neck, you feel her muscles tense under your touch, and then melt right into your hug. Strong arms wrap around you and clunky armor gets in the way.

But Kuvira can’t picture something more perfect.

She is speechless and squeezes her eyes shut, willing any tears to hold back. This was a momentous day for you, and she didn’t want your potentially last moment with her to be a sniveling mess. Instead she tries to memorize the way your hair smells, how firm your torso feels under her arms, how soft and warm your skin is. Everything she possibly can in these fleeting seconds with you.

“This isn’t goodbye,” you whispered in her ear. The way your breath fanned across her neck made Kuvira’s eyes flutter. She could stay in this embrace forever. “I will see you again.”

“I know,” she breathed out, suddenly finding it hard to find her voice. “I know.” It was something she had to tell herself more than to you.

You hesitated, wanting to say more. But how could you tell Kuvira that most nights you fell asleep thinking about what her lips would feel like against yours? How could you tell her that you still dreamed of traveling the world with her one day? How do you tell your childhood best friend that you’ve been in love with them when you’re about to board a ship to a new life?

Instead you take the chance and lean in, placing a soft quick kiss on her cheek just below her mole under her eye. With one last watery smile, you turn and board the ship. Your future terrified you, but you know for certain that you will keep your promise and return to Zaofu for her. One day.

If you had turned around you would’ve seen Kuvira steeled in stoicism, seemingly unaffected by your gesture. Meanwhile, inside she was on fire. Her cheek was burning where your lips touched. She had to replay the moment again and again in her mind to make sure it wasn’t her own imagination making it up. But it was real; the feeling of your hesitant lips pressed against her cheek made the flush in her chest grow. Her breath comes out in one shaky stream as she lifts the radio to her ear for the guards to close the domes.

And as the metal flower-like structure enclose her in, Kuvira can’t help but let her eyes linger on the sky where your ship disappeared.

This isn’t goodbye.

#kuvira #kuvira x reader #kuvira fic #not sure if this is enough angst or fluff

249 notes · View notes

defilerwyrm · 3 years

Note

⭐️ Bei Mir Bist Du Schön

FIC SPOILERS AHEAD!

Bei Mir Bist Du Schön on AO3

He opened his mouth to thank Essek but what came out instead was, “Deine Augen sind wunderschön.”

Essek stared at him, perfectly neutral save for the subtle rise of stark white eyebrows. “I don’t speak Zemnian,” he said, flashing his customary, placid little smile.

This is early Essek, well before c2e097, so this is a fully calculated move. That stare is him running simulations in his head, as it were, weighing his options, and he finally decides that he can learn more about Caleb if the guy thinks he doesn’t understand these little asides.

And boy did he ever just learn something juicy.

The second time, he was feeling petulant. Essek was normally a very patient and talented teacher, but there came a time when they butted heads over the best way to work a spell: Essek’s experience and Caleb’s contradicted each other, and neither was willing to admit that he was wrong because they weren’t. Caleb couldn’t have said why they were getting spirited over it. It was unlike them to lock horns this way, and the condescension chafed fiercely.

To my understanding, Wildemount never—at least post-Calamity—had a continent-spanning culture like the Roman Empire that would standardize learning across regions, and the Empire and Dynasty have utterly lacked in cultural exchange pretty much throughout their histories; so I reason that their approach to magic must be very damn different right down to the fundamentals. But, I also reason, magic is like math, in that there’s more than one way to come to a given conclusion—so the same spell cast by an Imperial mage might use different theory and somatic/verbal components with the same results.

I love fic that plays homage to cultural differences, so I figured that there must surely come a point where Caleb and Essek quibble about how to do a thing, with the crux being that they’re both right.

In a fit of pique, he muttered, “Du hast Glück, dass du abartig schön bist, denn du bist so ein Arsch.”

Essek’s head whipped up so fast that, for a moment, Caleb thought maybe he understood after all—but Essek just squinted at him without recognition and said, “I beg your pardon?”

Essek’s poker face is doing triple duty here because Caleb just said he’s hot af but also a dick, and this isn’t a sentiment Essek hasn’t heard before, but it hasn’t really gotten under his skin like it does this time.

Caleb passed a hand over his face and scratched at the beard he desperately needed to shave off. “Nothing,” he lied, “just annoyed with myself. This should be a moment of discovery, now that we know this can go either way. A door has unlocked and we’re both pulling it shut. Can we start again?”

The slip, and Essek’s reaction to it, made Caleb realize that they were both being dillweeds about the whole thing and it wasn’t going to move them forward at all.

It was—of course, of fucking course the intonation mattered. “A tonal shift,” he breathed. He took Essek by the lapels of his robe and shook him gently, and blurted out, “Ich könnte dein Gehirn küssen und dann deinen Mund.”

“What the hell is going on,” Nott squeaked at the same time as Essek chuckled almost nervously, “Caleb, I don’t—”

Hot boi damn near let the cat out of the bag right here. It’s certainly not that he specifically did not want to be smooched at all, but more that 1) Nott was RIGHT THERE so it would be mortifying, 2) he’s still very D: about physical contact and this point, and 3) he’s still very privately going “fuck fuck fuck WHY a HUMAN” about his own attraction to Caleb. There is very much a part of him that Wants That, but the rest of him is just not coping with it at all just yet.

The following morning, though, all he could think about was Dein Bett wäre besser and Essek’s careful fingers touching his face.

Both of them are fully mortified with themselves. They’re ridiculous. I see Caleb heading back to the Xhorhaus with shoulders bunched up, brow furrowed, and wide eyes glued to his own feet as his brain screams “DEIN BETT WÄRE BESSER” at him, mockingly, over and over. Slipping up and confessing your attraction to your crush is relatably horrifying (gods, I’ve been there, it’s awful) and Caleb is predisposed to beat himself up to begin with. Add in the rest of the party making a big deal over the fact that he spent the night over at Essek’s towers and you’ve got an abject storm in that little ginger head of his.

It did not help matters that no matter how much he insisted that nothing happened, the Mighty Nein were dead set on believing that he’d slept with his mentor, and they spent the next three days teasing him about it, none of them aware that he was simultaneously tormenting himself.

Okay so I try to be good and not talk shit about my own work these days, but that sentence just landed in a belly flop for me. I’m not sure it actually gets across what I’d meant, which was that Caleb was beating himself up for a different reason than what they all thought.

In the midst of a messy ambush by three of the wolf-cat eye-beasts, one of them managed to get the drop on Caleb, and it pinned him, screaming, to the ground. Its claws dug fiery punctures into either side of his chest. He thrashed, trying to get both hands up to cast, but it would be too late—his reflexes weren’t good enough. His body had never been nearly as sharp as his mind, and he was about to pay the price in the form of massive, dagger-like fangs lunging towards his throat. He screamed again, chest nearly frozen with fear, when—

Adventurers are generally made of tough stock, but I really wanted to dig into the POV of someone who’s being attacked by a terrifying cerature intent on ripping them apart. “You take 12 piercing damage and are knocked prone” is mechanical and dry; I wanted to show the full in-character implications of those mechanics.

Another fic that represents game mechanics narratively to absolutely stunning affect is Hard Mouth by road_rhythm, which I cannot recommend highly enough. I wrote Bei Mir before Hard Mouth started posting but had it been the other way around, it 100% would have been an inspiration in that regard.

He could not help but murmur, “Götter, ich bins so verschossen in dich.”

Fun fact: I got myself the book Talking Dirty German specifically for writing Caleb dialogue, and it really came in handy here. This idiom is from that book, as did abartig schön. The literal translation is “Gods, I am so shot into you,” which coming to think of it sounds a wee bit dirty but is figuratively very sappy.

Speaking of sappy….

“Das Gefühl ist Gegenseitig,” came the warm and sleepy reply.

Part of this is Essek being barely-conscious, but the bulk of it is this—and this is basically giving away the whole way the fic progresses: pretending not to know Zemnian began as a manipulation tactic to get intel, then became a game of “Let’s see how long it takes you to figure this out, smart boy” as their bond grew and Essek stopped deliberately trying to throw Caleb off, and finally when they were a couple he figured it would be cruel and pointless to keep up the ruse, especially since he’d been growing to appreciate pet names in their mother tongues.

Caleb took a deep breath, set his tea aside, and launched himself at Essek, who yelped, laughing, and danced out of his grasp. Essek led him on a merry chase around the kitchen and held out as long as he could before crying mercy at Caleb’s vicious tickling.

You know, I probably shouldn’t point this out in case my readers hadn’t cottoned onto it yet either, but it wasn’t until like a week after publishing this that I stopped and thought, “WTF happened to Essek’s teacup? Did he take the time to set it down? Did it get dropped and shatter? Did he show off and levitate it?? Did he bring it with him and get tea all over the place and himself?!” Smh…. Choose your own explanation, I guess, lmao.

The rolls were a little burnt that morning, but Caleb had no regrets.

Part of me feels like this is kind of a weak ending, but I justify it to myself by remembering how hard Caleb regretted his slip-ups over the course of the fic. He spends a good bit of copy beating himself up over them, so ultimately I think it fits, even if it kinda lacks punch.

#ask box games #shadowgast #before long my song is dying #critical role #plz how do i fandom

20 notes · View notes

youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

Text

I’m Always Curious Part Twenty Seven

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕

Sooo..... How are we doing................ Also for this week, new character incoming, the person I was picturing when I wrote Eli Durling is Michael Ealy, in case y’all want someone to picture

Warnings: ….Angst again I know my bad again

Also cursing and mentions of canon-typical violence Summary: I took the hands that were offered to me in introduction and did my damnedest to keep contact.

“Jett Reno, engineering.” Engineering, how was it I always wound up rooming with someone from engineering?

The problem was, with my separation from the Enterprise and the wounds of Somonia still fresh, I found myself desperate for connection where my life had been voided of it.

Jett, Tilly-- I took the hands that were offered to me in introduction and did my damnedest to keep contact.

-- “What brought you to Starfleet?” I could tell by the strained way Jett was asking that she didn’t do small talk for fun the way Tilly did. I’d been on the Hiawatha for a couple of days and we’d hardly talked when we’d been in our quarters together. Neither of us had pushed to fill the silence. But now, Jett was making the effort to… Chat. Maybe it was an attempt to stop my harried pacing in the cramped craft, but I could hardly keep still. My first official mission was set to begin in just a few minutes-- I was piloting a new federation attack fighter with an experimental cloaking device into Klingon airspace for the purposes of picking up subspace chatter. The Hiawatha would be in range as it ferried the first few war-wounded to Starbase 515. As soon as I collected what transmissions I could, I was to return to the ship, and then we’d jump to maximum warp -- barring any complications. “... My dad was an attaché to the Federation when I was growing up. I was brought to a lot of planets when he had custody. And when I was home there were a lot of different languages around me. I was just... curious.” Jett grunted. “What about you?” I asked. “I was always taking shit apart when I was a kid,” Jett leaned away from the control panel, “I had a teacher at school that steered me to circuit analysis. Kicked off from there.” She pulled off her gloves, turning back to me. “Good thing she jumped in when she did, I was electrocuting myself like, once a week. My mom was a doctor, said electrocuting yourself is frowned upon.” I smiled a little bit, “You know, I’ve heard that.” “Apparently everyone but me had.” “When you joined Starfleet...You ever think you’d be doing something like this?” “Helping a language nerd fly into enemy space? Can’t say it was in my top five. Did you think you’d be a pilot?” I shook my head, shoving my hands into my pockets, “No. I always liked flight sims, but steering was the furthest thing from my mind. I had this...Grand idea of going to new planets, building bridges between cultures… Not getting my ass bounced from ship to ship to ship and keeping my head down in the hopes I don’t wind up on Admiral Cornwell’s bad side…” I sighed, shrugging, “But we put our dreams away.” Jett’s brows were furrowed, and I could see the question she wanted to ask, but instead asked: “You got a plan after this?” “After the mission?” “After the war.” I was quiet for a moment, turning to survey the control panel. “... I think I’d rather focus on what I’m gonna do after the mission, not get too far ahead of myself.” Jett pursed her lips, nodding a little bit, looking around. “You oughta get off of this vessel if you don’t wanna join me for its maiden voyage,” I warned. Jett grunted, picking up her toolkit and heading for the ramp. “Try not to get blown up out there,” She said over her shoulder, “I did good work on this ship.” “I’ll do my damnedest,” I called back.

It became routine for Jett and I to chat before missions - occasionally making plans for what we would do once I got back. My missions tended to vacillate between two types: either a transmission intercept, or a mission type that protocol labeled a 22-9-14. 22-9-14 operations consisted of approaching a Klingon craft, deploying a tracking and transmission device, and piloting the hell out of there before any Warbirds could catch wise. It didn’t always work of course -- which was why Eli and I started calling 22-9-14s ‘Tag and Runs’. Lieutenant Commander Eli Durling was a security officer stationed on the Hiawatha for the purpose of handling Communications-based missions. I’d known of him while I was at the Academy. He had been a couple of years ahead of me, and we had a few mutual friends, but as we'd been focused in different course tracks, I'd never had occasion to really interact with him until now. He’d graduated top of his class, and had been stationed on a ship in the Mempa sector until the war had broken out.

Durling reminded me of Pike, a little. When he wasn’t focused on the mission at hand, he was fairly easygoing, lighthearted, and made it a point to follow orders - when those orders were the right course of action in a given situation. Eli wasn’t above changing course mid-mission when something took a bad turn, and he wasn’t afraid to go to bat for me with command for doing the same, either. He covered my back, and I covered his.

“You should see the job Durling did to his phaser canons,” Jett half-yelled, half-grumbled from under the control panel. I eyed where her legs were in view, just beside my pilot’s seat. “Something tells me the job was done by a Klingon Warbird and not by Eli himself.” “Well if he hadn’t gotten spotted by a Warbird, they wouldn’t have chased him, fired at him, and fucked up his phaser canons.” “...You might have a point there.” “I’m wounded, lieutenant,” I heard from just behind me, and I turned to see Eli ducking his head to step onto the craft. “I really hope you mean emotionally," I teased. Eli’s lips twitched into a smile, and I returned it. It was moments like this that his attractiveness was...Really not lost on me. He was handsome, with golden, copper brown skin and gentle blue eyes. His smile, which was turned at me now, was typically kind -- a kind smile that could turn flirtatious or teasing at the drop of a hat. “I’m broken up inside,” Eli reassured me. “Mm, mhm,” I nodded, “What’s going on?” “I’ve got some news.” “Is it that you learned how to fix your phaser canons yourself?” Jett asked, sitting up from under the console. “Sadly, no.” “Sadly? That’s not sadly no, that’s morbidly depressingly no,” Jett grumbled as she took my hand to help her up, “You have any idea how long it’s gonna take me to fix those when you inevitably fuck them up again?” “Well, not long at all. The lieutenant and I are being transferred.” Jett and I let that sink in in silence as the three of us stood in silence. It felt like a punch - but Reno recovered faster than I did. “...Well, godspeed to whoever takes you over, Durling. You’re an engineer’s worst nightmare.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Reno,” Eli chuckled before turning to me, “We’ll be shipping out once you get back, as long as everything is status quo.” “Got it.” “Be careful out there.” “Yessir.”

I watched Eli go before I lowered my eyes, making a careful study of my shoes. I’d been on the Hiawatha for two months now. It was only just starting to feel… Not like the Enterprise, but like a safe space again. “Well,” I said after a moment, “Least you’ll be getting your room back to yourself.” “Looks like it,” Jett agreed, “Don’t get all mushy on me, huh?” I shook my head, pushing back my upset and flattening my expression before meeting her eye: “I was about to ask the same of you.” Jett nodded. “Would’ve been nice if we could’ve seen this through together.” “Would’ve,” I agreed quietly. “But we put our dreams away,” Jett reached out, slapping me on the shoulder before picking up her toolkit, “Don’t get blown up at the last minute. It would be a hell of an anti-climax.”

I scrolled through the contacts on my PADD stilling over Sidhu, Thira for a moment. The little status bubble beside her name read ‘Active’. Despite the fact that Eli and I were stationed together on the USS Pinnacle, and had been for months, I was antsy for news of the Enterprise. I’d reached out to Cornwell for an update on the crew, but I had yet to get an answer from her. I couldn’t blame her. She was entrenched in strategy, but I was desperate for news -- especially after the news of the Hiawatha’s loss had reached us nearly a week after Eli and I had been re-stationed.

I scrolled further down on the contacts list, tapping on the contact name for Tilly, Sylvia. I eyed the ‘Active’ bubble beside her name before tapping on the small video icon. I lifted the PADD up to my face, grinning when Tilly came into view. “Hi!” She greeted, waving. “Hey there. How are you?” I asked, shifting back on my bed. “Oh…” I watched Tilly glance at her surroundings before she answered, “Lorca’s on the warpath.” “The literal warpath or the metaphorical one?” Tilly laughed before sighing, “Both.” I winched, “Sorry, Tills.” “It’s not all awful,” She shrugged, “I have a roommate again, actually. Michael Burnham.” My brows rose. I knew of Michael Burnham - her name was splashed across briefings in relation to the war and the Battle of the Binary Stars. But I’d known of her, first and foremost, through Spock. He’d never spoken of her in honeyed tones, mind, but I knew that he regarded her highly. What was all of this doing to Spock? I couldn’t imagine him having to reason himself through this with limited intel from the Federation at such a distance-- “Hello? Hel-- Hello? Did I cut out? Am I frozen? Are you frozen?” I was jolted from my reverie at Tilly’s waterfall of questions. “I’m sorry,” I smiled, “Got distracted-- How’s the roomie situation?” “Well she frowned about as much as you did when you got on board.” “I warmed up.” “So did she,” Tilly smiled, and I relaxed a little, folding my legs up under myself. “Glad to hear it.” I looked away from my PADD as the doors to my room opened. “Hey, Eli,” I greeted. I saw Tilly’s eyes widen, and I glanced down to see her smoothing her hair down hurriedly. “Eli, you remember Tilly,” I added as he crossed to my bed - I’d introduced them on a previous call. “Course I do,” He smiled, sitting down beside me and giving the screen a wave, “Nice to see you again, Sylvia.” I grinned as a flush as red as her hair well up on Tilly’s cheeks. “Hi,” She answered, matching Eli’s wave. Her gaze was directed away from the screen as an announcement that I couldn’t make out crackled on her end. “Ahh-- I have to go,” She said hurriedly, turning back to the screen, “I’m sorry!” “No, don’t worry about it,” I shook my head, “Be careful.” “You guys, too!” Tilly chirped before hanging up. I looked down at the screen as it winked off. I eyed the contact for Sidhu, Thira, one more time before swiping away from my contacts. Eli leaned back against the wall, shifting further back on my bed. “If you put your shoes on my bed, Durling--” “I know the rules, kid,” He chuckled. I rolled my eyes. He’d taken to calling me that weeks ago, and I couldn't get him to shake it. “What’s got you in here, anyway?” I asked, “New mission?” “Can’t sleep.” I frowned, glancing over at Eli before I turned back to my messages. I had a new message, but where the hell was it? It wasn’t from Cornwell, I’d already checked. “Something wrong?” I pressed. “Just one of those nights. Ever have one?” “Oh, all the--” I froze, damn near dropping my PADD at the sight of the unopened message. It was recent - minutes old. And it was from Una. “...You okay, kid?” Eli’s knee nudged mine, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the words ‘You’re on the Pinnacle?’.

“I-- I um… Yes. I have those nights all the time. Think I’m gonna have another one of those nights tonight.” Eli crowded closer, peering over my shoulder. “Bad news?” “I don’t know yet… Can you gimme a minute?”

It had started with Paledore, apparently. He’d been looking for something I’d sent him a while ago, some verb conjugation that I'd worked on, and he’d noticed that my status was active. He’d figured that it had to be a fluke, and he’d gone about his business. But it had happened again and again, and he’d brought it up to Thaleh, who had brought it up to Spock. Spock had done some digging, located me in Starfleet's medical database at the Academy, and then in the ship’s records for the Pinnacle. He had brought that information to Una. Una, who was now staring at me through a video feed. Her face was carefully blank. I’d seen that look before -- I knew that she was making a concentrated effort to not give anything away. Una could be hard to read in the first place, but I may as well have been looking at a statue. My heart was thudding low in my chest, beating out a panicked, jittery tattoo that usually only accompanied the running of a 22-9-14 and a Klingon Warbird on my tail. “...So,” I started, “How’s the Pergamum?” “You’re alive.” I gave a small nod. “Yeah, they’re not trucking a corpse around on the Pinnacle for the sake of filling the new communications specialist minimum.” “You’ve been alive this entire time and you’re making jokes?” Una seethed. It chilled me through the screen and I lowered my eyes, swallowing thickly. “I know you’re upset--” “Upset?” She repeated with a scorning little laugh, “I have spent the last year watching the repercussions that your loss has had on this crew, on Pike-- and you’re making jokes.” Guilt spun through me and wobbled like a top. “Can I explain?” “I wish you would.”

I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves before I told Una what had happened - all I could remember. Soivo, Somonia, Cornwell, my time on the Discovery and the Hiawatha. Una’s face remained unmoved throughout. My only indication that the screen hadn’t frozen was Una’s occasional shift in her seat. Once I’d finished my explanation, Una gave a small nod. “Well… That certainly lines up with the timeline that Spock put together.” I couldn’t help but smile a little at that, even as I ached at the mention. “Of course he put a timeline together,” I muttered, scrubbing my hand over my eyes. I sighed, quiet for a few moments. “How are you all?” I asked, “Will you tell me that?” “You don’t deserve that answer.” I clenched my jaw, hot tears prickling at my eyes as I felt my entire being want to fold in on itself. “Una, please understand--” The video feed cut, the message on the screen indicating that the call had been terminated from Una’s side. My fingers curled around the device, my chest racking with sobs as I curled forward.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I heard behind me, “What did that punching bag say to you?” I raised my hands to stop the bag from swinging back and hitting me before I turned back to see Eli. After Una’s abrupt end to our call, I had cried until I couldn’t anymore - until my sobs had been dry and my breathing had been hiccups. And then, when the hurt had still ebbed through me, when I saw that there were no transmissions waiting for translation or missions for me to run, I went to work the rest of my hurt out on a punching bag. “I’m not in the mood, Durling,” I cautioned quietly. My voice was hoarse from its rough use earlier, and my body and nerves were rung raw from the war, from losing Jett -- from my call with Una, and from the news that had hard followed - the Discovery had been destroyed. My last call with Tilly had been our last call. Eli took a couple of cautious steps closer to me, looking me over. “I can see that. Came to offer my assistance.” I arched a brow. “Assistance?” I repeated, “The bag over here offered the same thing and look where it’s wound up.” Eli smiled a little. “You’re gonna run yourself ragged like this,” he warned. I shook my head a bit, biting the inside of my cheek to staunch a fresh wave of tears. “I already have, Eli, I can’t--” I took in a deep, shuddering breath, “I can’t rest my head right now. That’s just a fact.” “Neither can I. Maybe we can help each other out with that.” “I’m not gonna ask you to help me.” “Why not?” “You see the mood I’m in?” I nodded toward the bag, “At least one of us needs to be in a condition to fly.” “I think I can handle you.” I arched a brow. “Eli,” I warned softly. He took a step closer, warm blue eyes and kind smile pointed at me with all softness and sincerity. “Kid,” he murmured, “You don’t have to worry about being gentle with me.” Tag list: @angels-pie ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles ; @inmyowncorner ; @tardis-23 ; @2manyfandoms-solittletime ; @paintballkid711 ; @katrynec ; @hypnobananaangelfish

#I'm Always Curious #captain pike x reader #Captain Pike/Reader #Captain Pike Imagine #Captain Pike x You #Captain Pike/You #christopher pike x reader #christopher pike/reader #Christopher Pike x You #christopher pike imagine #Christopher Pike/You

63 notes · View notes

xofanfics · 4 years

Text

String - Part VI

Genre: angst, fluff

Pairing: Baekhyun x Female Reader FT. SEHUN

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You find yourself in a friends-with-benefits situation with your best friend. You have no business falling for him, but your heart begs to differ.

Baekhyun hadn’t heard from you since that night. You hadn’t responded to his text and he had no idea whether you’d listened to his voicemail. And Evie and Sadie were no help either. They said that you’d approach him when you were ready but he was impatient.

Guilt pulled at Baekhyun as if someone was tugging the bottom of his shirt. Even though he had started seeing Kira like he wanted, he still felt pretty guilty about it all. He hadn’t exactly done anything wrong but he knew that he fucked up, morally. It was fucked up to treat you like that, pulling you on a string until he decided what he wanted. You deserved better than that. And he was a hypocrite. He knew that much.

He felt uncomfortable knowing how he left things with you and he wanted to talk to you. He didn’t know the things he needed to say and he wasn’t sure where to begin. All he knew is that he wanted to talk to you. Things probably wouldn’t go back to normal, even if he tried his absolute best.

“Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun looked up from his plate. “Huh?”

“I said what are you thinking about?”

“Just about an old friend.”

Kira frowned. “Did something happen?”

He sighed. “I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

Kira didn’t press him about it and he was grateful. Guilt ate at him further as he realized that he wasn’t able to pay his own girlfriend the attention she deserved. His thoughts, somehow, would always shift toward you even in the presence of others.

She didn’t know what was bothering Baekhyun but it was bothering her. Lately, he seemed a little down. Things hadn’t changed too much but he always looked so...troubled. Kira wanted to make him feel better but she didn’t know where to begin. Did he even trust her enough to tell her what was going on in his life? Did he feel like he couldn’t be open with her? Was she not doing enough, as his girlfriend?

She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. She gave it a light squeeze because it was the only comfort she could give him.

You woke up and found yourself staring at the white ceiling as your phone’s alarm went off on the nightstand. You rolled over and shut off the blaring noise. As you sat up in bed, you let out a yawn. You got dressed and started getting ready for your 9AM shift at the waxing salon. The best part about being a receptionist was getting a discount on waxes and not having to do much. This job was a way to put extra money in your pocket and to study and do homework in between the small tasks you had to do to maintain a suitable environment for customers.

You got lost in your skincare routine as you found yourself thinking about Baekhyun again. You hadn’t seen him since that night and you avoided all contact with him within the friend group. Being that they were with Baekhyun a lot, you hadn’t seen the guys much lately. You couldn’t help but feel like the friend group was divided and that some of it was partially your fault.

You thought to yourself, If I see Baekhyun again, I think I could at least say hi…

Sehun occupied your thoughts most of the time but there were times when you gave in to temptation and your thoughts shifted to things like Baekhyun’s award-winning smile. Sehun was a gentleman. To be honest, he was everything you wanted in a guy. He let you know from the beginning that he had intentions of being in a relationship. It was rare to get that much information from a man these days.

He was considerate and he cared about you. And it showed. And when you hung out again last week, things were just as relaxed as last time. You felt like you could be yourself. The two of you went to get gelato in Little Italy, walked to the park, and talked for hours. And when you left each other, he didn’t try to come back to your apartment with you and he didn’t try to kiss you either. You were so used to guys rushing into things that this seemed a bit strange. It was great to meet a man with pure intentions.

Sehun would ask you if you wanted to Facetime a couple times. He’d ask you about your day, about what you ate, about what you were learning in class. He was asking these things because he genuinely wanted to know you. He wanted to know your thoughts, your ideas, and opinions. He wanted to dig deep into you, pulling out as much information as he could. He wanted to be able to paint the perfect picture of you, with his eyes closed shut.

You smiled to yourself as you got off of the train. You had twenty minutes to get to work from the train station. It only took five minutes from the train but you liked to come a bit early to get coffee. Your phone buzzed in your hands. Sehun left you a voice message.

“Hey, Y/N. Good morning! Hope you slept well last night and that you have a good day at work...I’m working from home today, thank God. I’m sick of my boss hovering over me while I’m trying to get work done..” He let out a chuckle. “Anyway, I can’t wait to see you later tonight.”

The two of you planned to go to a jazz lounge tonight. Neither of you had ever been and it seemed like a fun date. That was one thing you enjoyed about Sehun. He was always down to try new things with you. Everything you were experiencing with Sehun felt so new, so exciting. You never felt quite like this before.

You smiled at the sound of Sehun’s voice and, as you were about to send a voice note back, you happened to look up and find Baekhyun walking toward you. You were sure he hadn’t noticed you yet and you hoped to keep it that way. You kept walking, trying your best to remain unnoticed. As you walked past, you were sure he caught a glimpse of you because you could feel someone’s eyes glued onto you. It took everything in you not to turn around and look back at him.

You’d said that maybe you were at a point in your life where you could gather the courage and greet him if you were in the same room. Here you were, practically running away from him instead. You weren’t ready to cross paths with him; not right now. And to make matters worse, you looked a mess in your barely brushed bun and a not-so-special outfit. You’d imagined that when you eventually did cross paths, that you’d look good that day.

You walked past him and didn’t look back once.

Baekhyun got off the train feeling more tired than usual. He’d had a bit of trouble sleeping last night. He inched up the staircase slowly and when he looked up to see what the holdup was, he saw that it was a mother struggling to carry a stroller. Eventually, once someone realized that maybe they should help, another woman helped her up. Once the staircase congestion was cleared, Baekhyun was able to start moving.

As he headed toward the exit, he happened to look up from his phone and to his left. He had to do a double take to make sure it was you. It was. He knew your height and body size like the back of his hand. Even though he hadn’t been friends with you for a full year, he got to know you well for the past few months...until all of this drama came crashing into his life. He was at fault, he knew. This was a mess that he’d unintentionally created by not being straightforward and not being honest with himself or the people around him.

He didn’t know what an ideal world would look like. He wanted to be with Kira, no matter what. But, sometimes, his heart tugged toward you. He cared about you and he honestly missed you. He missed hanging out with you. He missed the simple things about his relationship with you like waiting for you to get out of class so you could eat lunch with him or helping you study for your exam, with flashcards. He missed simple things like FaceTime calls in the middle of the night when you had trouble sleeping and the fact that he could tell you anything. Part of him wished that he’d never crossed that line with you. He hated the fact that you weren’t in his life at all. Would you have been better off as just friends from the very beginning?

Baekhyun did see you, even if you didn’t know it. He saw you in all your glory. He saw you and your bun that you wore with the pale pink scrunchie that you loved. He saw you walking toward the University Place exit which could only mean that you were going to work. He remembered going there to pick you up from work last semester and watching you fidget at the desk, eagerly waiting for your coworker to come in and take over the desk duties.

He did notice you and a piece of his heart chipped away as he realized that a) you saw him and didn’t care to speak or b) you genuinely didn’t see him. A million possibilities and harsh realities flew through his head. He knew that you wouldn’t go out of your way to talk to him but had you just straight-up ignored him, like he didn’t exist?

Did the voicemail he left mean nothing to you? Did you listen to it at all? Did you delete it without even bothering to listen to it? He had so many questions and no answers. Were you done with him? Had he ruined the friendship the two of you once had forever? He felt a lot of things but his heart felt bruised, more than anything.

Was it really over?

Baekhyun wasn’t sure what kind of relationship he could have with you at this point but he knew that he didn’t want to live in a world without you in it. But on the other hand, he knew that he couldn’t have his cake and eat it, too.

You met Evie and Sadie in their dorm room after your shift. You still had a couple hours before you had planned on meeting Sehun. You put your bags down and sat down on the fluffy rug that lay between the two beds.

Your friends had started filling you in on a campus event tonight, where some of the school’s cultural organizations were going to have a dance off. You hadn’t planned on going since you made plans with Sehun but your friends didn’t seem to want to let it go.

“So you’re really not going to come to the Battle of the Orgs thing tonight?” asked Sadie, sitting down on the floor next to you.

You shook your head. “Well, I wasn’t really planning on it...”

Evie chimed in, turning away from her laptop and toward you. “Drew said it’d be really cool if you’d come. He’s hardly seen you since everything that happened with Baek. He’s performing...and the best part is that Baekhyun won’t be in the crowd cause he’s performing too.”

You raised your eyebrow, a curious expression taking over. “Since when?”

“Since like three weeks ago when one of the other guys dropped out and Drew begged him to join the lineup,” answered Evie. “Drew bugged the hell out of him and eventually Baekhyun agreed to it. You know how annoying he can be...”

“I saw Baekhyun in the train station this morning,” you said. “I was telling myself this morning that, if I saw him in the street, maybe I’d say hi...but I walked by and pretended I didn’t see him.”

“Would you really have said something?” asked Sadie.

You shrugged. “Probably not. But what would I even say to him?”

“Go fuck yourself is a good start,” Evie suggested. The three of you laughed for a moment before her expression became serious. “He really does seem to be dating that girl though.”

“Did you meet her?” you asked.

“For a minute,” Sadie said.

Evie added, “Baekhyun stopped by in the library and she was with him. So he introduced her...as his girlfriend.”

“What does she look like?”

“She looks mixed. She’s black and Japanese, I heard.”

“What’s she like?”

“Y/N, what does it matter? We met her for two seconds, in passing. Even if I had an answer for you, I wouldn’t tell you. You’re seeing Sehun, right? Why are you making Baekhyun more relevant than he is?”

You rolled your eyes, annoyed that your friend wasn’t going to give you more information. But, deeper down, you knew that she was right. It wasn’t healthy to ask those kinds of questions or to do things like look at Baekhyun’s snapchat stories hoping to find out more about this girl. It hurt that he had moved on. You wished that you were in her shoes. It felt unfair that this girl came into the picture and threw Baekhyun off course. You thought about what he said about having intentions of asking you out. If it was true, then the appearance of this Kira girl had ruined it. In a way, she had ruined the relationship that could’ve been yours.

But it wasn’t fair to put the blame on this girl. You didn’t know her and she didn’t know you. Sometimes you felt jealous but then you had to remind yourself that you deserved better and that if Baekhyun truly wanted to be with you in the first place, he would’ve been.

In all honesty, you should’ve listened to Evie’s advice in the first place. You should’ve known something was up when she asked if you were sure that Baekhyun really liked you. Maybe you should’ve questioned things sooner. Maybe if you’d brought it up sooner, the story wouldn’t have played out quite like this. Maybe you would’ve had the answers you needed much sooner. Maybe it would’ve hurt less.

You bit your lip. “Of course he’s not relevant. I’m seeing someone new and I’m moving on...just like he is!”

Part of you wanted to go to the Battle of the Orgs. You wanted to go because you genuinely wanted to see Drew perform and, if you were being completely honest with yourself, you wanted to see Baekhyun perform too. You never really saw him dance like this before. According to your friends, the Korean Student Association was going to perform a couple k-pop songs.

You didn’t know if you were ready to see Baekhyun in person, even if it was from a distance. Hell, you couldn’t even face him in the train station this morning. You just kept walking like a coward. You had imagined seeing Baekhyun again for the first time a million different ways. All of the scenarios you imagined in your head were nonchalant, petty, or neutral. You’d imagined scenarios where you hit him, scenarios where you threw shade at him, and scenarios like this morning—you walking past him, but without a care in the world. And you’d also imagined delusional scenarios where he explained that he didn’t want that girl anymore, and that you were the one he wanted. But you knew, at this point in time, that it wouldn’t happen.

You knew deep down that the only way to truly get over Baekhyun was to finally face him. That didn’t mean that you had to be friends or that things were going to go back to how they were. Shit, how could they after all that you’d been through? Seeing Baekhyun in person didn’t mean that you were committing to anything specific. It just meant that you’d be in the same room, breathing the same air. No harm in that, right?

You had to face Baekhyun sooner or later. You weren’t obligated to accept his apology or to be friends. The only way to get over him was to acknowledge his existence. Maybe you could get to a point where you could have a conversation. Maybe, just maybe, you could be acquaintances or something. But for now, you decided to just let things play out. You’d just be yourself. Maybe you wouldn’t even have to interact with Baekhyun in the first place.

You decided that you were going to go to the event tonight. You’d go to the event, support Drew, and then leave to go to the jazz bar with Sehun afterward. This solution was perfect, for everyone.

***

A/N: This is kind of a filler chapter but the next chapter will be longer and have the drama everyone’s craving, I promise! It’s worth the wait. And thank you to everyone who has supported me. And shoutout to my bestie for helping me through these ideas and giving me some much needed motivation!

Tag List: @shesdreaminginoverdose @multistania @jeonchan26 @myonlyaurora @keloiu @xxluckydreamsxx @multifandomeras @blanknearvana @jddcfc-blog @jummyjammy @mintaemark @kokobyunee @fortheloveofinfinite @littleflowercrown13 @wayvexo @to-all-the-stories-i-love @ggaayyyong @hyuniebaby @giriboyshogu @xyukheix @jekylluv @forbyun @endzii23 @puppyeoliepop @aa-ronpa @serendipitydreamsss @princemicorazon @sjkings @marimsun @baekhypnotized

Please DM me if you want to be added to the tag list! Hope you enjoyed this chapter :)

218 notes · View notes

starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Undercover.”

Wrote something for you all this morning. It’s a little more fun and fluffy than anything else, but it also forward the arc, so I hope you like it. Have a great day everyone

Also we have a discord server now, and he link below should be permanent. Hope to see you there :)

https://discord.gg/cTY5SHx

“So you two are planning to��. What exactly? Pose as one of us to get information from these people.”

“That is kind of the general idea I guess.”

Sitting at the bar surrounded by all the noise and lights their conversation went unheard the rest of the bar goers around them.

The bartender and his small Finnari companion wandered off at intermittent times to serve drinks to other customers before wandering back.

The human leaned against the bar, “Look, if that is your plan, then you are going to need some help blending in.”

The commander raised an eyebrow, “Blending in, how so. She's a Drev I’m a human slap on some makeup and a little hair dye and no one will be the wiser.”

The bartender just smiled and shook his head as if amused at the Commander’s ignorance, “no no no, that’s not how it works. You see there is an entire culture behind extrials, a lot of stuff we had to do before it became legal and a lot of stuff we still do now as a sort of memento of the hard times.”

The commander blinked, “Oh, really. I had no idea.”

“That’s alright. It’s not like we advertise it out to everyone, that’s the whole point of it being a secret. Look me and Vin’an get off in like fifteen minutes, and we can help you two out. Besides, the people who have been approaching everyone would never consider doing it here anyway. Most of these people aren’t rich enough, and the establishment is actually a legal one which means it is prone to inspections.”

“Right, sounds fun.”

The commander turned in his seat and leaned back resting his elbows up on the bar. Sunny watched him from where she sat a seat over still nursing her drink, “You seem relaxed for someone who is preparing to spend the next couple of days in espionage.”

He grinned, “Ah but it is also the kind of espionage where I can go partying with my best friend, so I would consider it a little less working and a little more paid vacation.”

She rolled her eyes, “You’re an idiot, you know that.”

“You love it.”

“Mmmmhmmm sure.”

Sunny finished her Drink and the commander closed his eyes seeming to soak up the atmosphere like some sort of strange sponge. Sunny would never understand that about him, of course she liked going out and doing things, but she couldn’t imagine being able to recharge around people. After a while she needed a break, but it looked like he was getting ready to fall contentedly asleep.

A knock on the bar behind them, and she turned to see the bar tender had been replaced by a different couple/

“You two ready to go.”

“Sure thing boss.” the commander turned to sunny, “Come on lets go be cultured and things.”

She just shook her head again but followed along with the group of them as they were motioned through the backdoor behind the bar and up a flight of stairs.

“You guys live here?” The commander wondered.

“A lot of us live in the same building. It makes it easier on all of us. less questions asked and a lot safer, we can pool our money for security equipment and what not. Strength in numbers as it were.”

“Right, makes sense.”

He shouldered open a door to the next apartment stepping into a room lined in UV lights over large potted plants. Everything else had a very modern futuristic looks with neon floor lights and minimalistic furniture, “Damn, bartending pays well.” The commander muttered under his breath, “And I’m still sleeping in a twin.”

“Make yourselves comfortable, go ahead and sit anywhere.”

Before Sunny would do anything the Commander had claimed a strange circular shaped chair that was hanging from the ceiling. It rocked back and forth, and he seemed to be enjoying himself, which was rather amusing to her. It was like trying to wrangle a puppy..

A moment later the bartender came to sit down with them, and the Commander was polite enough to stop his playing around and pay attention, which was a feat all in itself.

“Alright, so a little background for you guys, just general information that anyone in the community would know.” He cracked his knuckles, “The LFIL began as a result of one of the oxyclinics.”

“Oh hey! I worked at one of those after the war for a short time,”

The punk nodded, “Than you know, in those places you tend to get kind of intimate and close up with other aliens. Generally it was very rare and the humans kept everything professional. Generally it started with them having feelings for some people they met but never saying anything or mentioning it because at the time they thought it was wrong. Plus also it was seriously and very professionally wrong to go and do anything about it. However, there was one couple, a Drev and a human who became really good friends during the course of the treatment, and eventually wen the Drev left they kept in contact. Turns out that the human’s second job was as a cage fighter down on one of the local stations for money. They ended up running into each other there where the Drev saw them fight. That led to more time spent hanging out and you get the gist. Independently stories like that were happening all over. Finnari worked well with humans who wanted someone to protect, drev like fighters, and Tesraki were drawn by people’s good business sense and stayed for how loyal humans are. Eventually it spread from the oxy clinics.”

“Wow, I had no idea it began that way, though I guess it makes sense.”

The bartender smiled, “Yeah. I met Vin’an when looking for a place to stay. I had just moved here, and she was looking to hire a human to keep her safe in the big cit. Things progressed from there, so my story is a little less complicated than most, but I guess the one thing you need to know that relates to all extrials is that we are all, in some way very, very eccentric. If you are going to date an alien tan odds are you are going to stand out in other ways as well. At first, it was sort of just a coincidence of personality, but when we started to learn that there were others like us, we started doing it on purpose to let people subtly know who and what we were.”

“But plenty of humans are eccentric.” Sunny pointed out

He turned to look at her, “Not so much off earth. They tend to be military or business types, so not a lot of eccentricities going on. Plus, for a while, we used tattoos to signal what we were, generally we would get the image of the alien that we were attracted to on the arm or other part of the body. It was all in an effort to let each other know what we were and what we were willing to do.”

“And how did aliens react to that?”

“You know, I think there is this misconception that aliens are less prone to odd behaviors than humans and that it is humans that always initiate, but that isn’t true. I know plenty of couples where the non-human was the first one to approach. Of course, it is definitely more of a personality based thing than any other type of relationship. You will find that there are very few extrials who are attracted to aliens outright in the way that normal people are. I mean yeah there are a few, obviously, but most of us had no idea until we met the perfect person. In fact, I've dated plenty of humans in my time, and it didn’t bother me. But that is how a lot of the progressions go, you start out as really good friends, and then it goes from there as you get to know each other.” he clapped his hands, “Anyway, first thing is first, we need to make you look like one of us, that means eccentric.”

From where she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, sunny looked up, “He wears an eyepatch and a military grade cybernetic leg. I think he’s already eccentric enough to fit in.”

The other human laughed while the commander flipped her the bird.

“I mean that is kind of true, but we want you eccentric in a way where no one is going to recognize you. Sunny, I am going to have you go out with Vin’an and pick out some nail polish for your new color. She can help you get ready.”

***

Something the commander and Sunny thought was going to take an hour or two turned into an entire day. Sunny ended up stuck sitting on the roof with the little Finnari being painted a nailpolish color that was called ‘opal unicorn’ which was sort of silver white with sparkles in it. It was a very pretty color, kind of reminding her of her brother’s late partner, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed all the work it took to put the stuff on. It took almost three applications over her full body and A UV light source to harden the stuff.

Still though, she assumed it was much more intense than Adam, and when they returned to the apartment she was surprised to find that he wasn’t there. The two of them sat around for a while playing games and talking about random things until the door clicked open and two humans walked in.

At first Sunny thought The bartender had brought home another one of his other friends before her eyes zeroed in on the human’s face. The eye color was different now a bright blue, but she would know that sheepish expression anywhere.

“Ho-ly shit.” She said looking him up and down, “IS that really you in there.”

He flipped her the bird, “yeah, it’s me.”

The bartender was grinning from one side of his face to the other.

“You know I am pretty sure he went out and did this just to amuse himself.”

“I mean you do look pretty funny.”

“I am very much not a fan of getting a nailgun through my soft cartilage, lets get that straight.”

Sunny tilted her head “Oh so those aren’t clip ons.”

“No, no they are not clip ons.”

“Huh.”

“Told you, no one will recognize you.” The bartender said, grinning

“Yeah no one will recognize me, I don’t even recognize myself. It seems to e a trend in my life lately, dying and cutting my hair.”

Sunny tilted her head the other way. His new look was primarily characterized by lightning blue hair shaved almost to the scalp on the sides and long on the top with some sort of magic holding it straight up in the air. Both of his ears were pierced including one that had piercings along both the top and bottom of the ear with a chain connecting the two.

The more she looked the more she wanted to laugh.

Somehow, he even had a stud in his upper chest around the base of the throat near the collarbones

“You laugh, I Kill You.”

“Don’t worry, I'll just incapacitate you with a large magnet.”

“Mother fucker.”

She danced away laughing as he charged at her skipping out of the way as his heavy boots thudded over the ground.

“Hey, quiet down you’ll wake up my neighbors.” The man hissed as the two of them skidded to a stop.

“You look like a baby punk walked into a staple factory.” Sunny mocked

“And you look like unicorn ji-”

“Keep it civil.”

He shut his mouth tight, “Alright, are we ready, finally?”

“Well, not exactly.”

He crossed his arms, “What do you mean not exactly.”

He smiled “well you aren’t going to convince anyone… unless.”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you actually look like a couple

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh, now go on hold her hand. She’s got enough of them to spare.”

Sunny looked at Adam, Adam looked at Sunny.

“Well go on its not like you’re suddenly going to become extrial if you hold hands.”

“That's not the-” Adam began

“Less talking more hand holding.”

Sunny shrugged and held out her upper left hand. Adam stared at it cleared his throat, reached out and paused.

“Come on, we haven’t got all night. Promise you aren’t suddenly going to be attracted to aliens.”

“I never said-”

“Go on.”

He looked over at sunny again. She tilted her head at him, “Wow, making me feel really great here Adam, promise I don’t have germs.”

He ignored them, reached out and took her hand.

He was…. Very awkward. The palm of his hand was very sweaty, and he didn’ts seem to understand that the point of hand holding was to make contact with the person and not avoid touching them as much as possible.

The punk sighed and walked over, “have you ever held hands with anyone…. Ever?”

“No.”

“Oh hmm.”

He walked over grabbed them and readjusted, “Hold down here, and now get a bit closer, closer. Seriously dude what is your issue. You sort of just interlace the fingers like that.” He practically had to bodily move Adam right up next to sunny.

He was stiff as a board.”

“You aren’t very good at this.”

Adam had his mouth clamped shut.

“Honestly you can actually look like you like her. I know you guys are friends and friends hold hands all the time.”

Adam tugged at the collar of his jacket, “Is it hot in here?”

“Stop trying to change the subject.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just really really bad with anything in this related field.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend?’

“No.”

“Boyfriend.”

“No/ “One night stand.”

“No.”

His eyes were wide, “Wow, so you’re still.”

“Can we change the subject please.”

Off to his side he could feel sunny shaking. He looked over at her only to find that she was laughing silently behind his back.

“What’s so funny.”

“You, you’re funny. I have never met someone so adorably inept at interpersonal relationships.”

“This is a fake interpersonal relationship.”

“Just imagine how you would manage the real thing.” She continued to laugh and he frowned at her.

“Alright now why don’t we go out, get used to this outside head around and get to know the places. It’ll be a fun night.”

She pulled Adam closer, “Oh yes it will.”

He groaned.

***

The guy hadn’t been wrong. They went all over the city catching looks everywhere they went through their presence was greeted with great enthusiasm in almost every location. The commander kept his eye out for any suspicious activity though he didn't expect it to happen right away if at all. Him and sunny wouldn’t be likely to be approached seeing as they weren’t an established member of the community, but perhaps they could integrate well enough that they would notice when someone was approached.

Halfway through the n night the commander walked off to get drinks.

Sunny sat looking around the room and occasionally talking with some of the other patrons. Adam returned a moment later sitting next to her and handing her a drink before sliding his hand back into place in hers.

She could see him from the corner of her eyes as he discreetly checked out the room.

The aperture of his fake eye was adjusting opening and closing as he used it to catalog and track every person within radius.

HE craned his head to the side leaning against her as he tried to get a look at some people on the other side of the room.

She put an arm around him turning her head to see behind them.

Light flashed and strobed as music played in the background.

At some point they were invited to dancing and then bar hopping with another group which they took in order to properly integrate themselves inward.

The night went by and sunny lost all track of location and time.

She thought she fell asleep at some point and woke up to find Adam dozing off at her shoulder.

She remembered even later in that crashing at someone else’s apparent on the floor of the living room which was strewn with almost a dozen other people.

Adam and Sunny ended up squished against the couch pressed up against each other to make room for everyone else.

She was so tired that it didn’t matter the noise.

And then they were up again on the town and back to the bars.

Adam was only growing more comfortable while she was beginning to lag. This lifestyle was not for her. She hadn’t been alone in hours. The constant noise and people were draining her life away.

At one point in the night they were sitting back on one of the couches talking. Adam stretched and put his arm over her shoulder turning his head and leaning in close. His breath was hot against her face, “Three o clock. I think I got something.”

She turned her head forehead brushing against his. Giving him cover, “What do you see.”

He pretended to laugh and leaned closer, “I've seen these people three times. They never touch each other barely look at each other, and the have just invited one of these couples into a back room.”

“They could just be…. Offering favors.”

Adam rested his head on her shoulder, “I don’t think so. They aren’t acting right, they don’t look right, point is there is something about them that does not belong here. You know plus they are both tesraki, which is kind of a dead give away.”

She wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer, “OK yeah that is a bit suspicious.”

“I'm going to try and get access to the GA database, hopefully our IT guy can give us a bit of help.”

Shr an a hand through his hair, “Want me to keep an eye on them.”

“Go ahead.”

Another couple sat down across from them nearly blocking Sunny's view.

“I just have to say.” Their new neighbors commented learning closer, ‘You two are such a cute couple.” Sunny did her best to be polite while being forced to crane her neck past their heads.

“Why thank you. How about you two though, where did you guys meet.” That should shut them up for a while

And she was right.

Adam squeezed her hand once, and then twice.

She knew what that meant.

The two of them stood suddenly and Adam smiled, “Sorry guys, but I just got a call in from work. It was nice meeting you though, take care and have a good night.”

They were waved off with a smile.

Adam gripped her hand as together they walked through the club and towards the door where the Tesraki had disappeared.

Hopefully he knew what he was doing.

327 notes · View notes

toribun · 4 years

Text

(I don’t know who made this gif, please contact me so I can give you credit!)

αγάπη

co written and edited by @iama

Words :: 4,1k

Pairing :: idol!/soulmate!Jimin x soulmate!reader

Warnings :: swearing, culture crash, hinting to smut, Jimin is kinda an ass in this chapter not gonna lie.

a/n :: I know this chapter has taken forever to be posted, but I really struggled with finishing this chapter. It never felt right nor was it fun to write. Luckily the lovely and kind @iama offered help. She is basically the only reason why I was able to finish this chapter. Show her lots of love, because don't think I would even have continued this story without her💕

Thank you for giving me motivation again.

Chapter 3

You were wrong.

He was way more nervous than you.

He was so nervous in fact, that his hands started to shake as soon as you had turned around to face him instead of looking at him through the mirror that hanged at the elevator wall. You could see the sweat starting to form at his hairline and his neck as soon as you got eye contact with him. He looked like he was about to do a job interview with the devil.

” are you okay?”

He didn't express his answer with words, only a quick nod with his head. His gaze switched between his feet and your eyes. He didn't dare to hold his gaze on you for too long though, only for a few seconds before it fell to the ground again.

The ding of the elevator door brought him more confidence. The doors started too slowly close. You were too afraid to step out or do anything about the closing doors, scared that the sudden move would scare him even more. But you didn't need to do anything anyway, before the doors would get a chance to close, he stepped forward and put his foot in between the sliding doors, making the elevator doors open.

You noticed how closer he was to you now. So close that you could see all the small imperfections on his face. The small blackheads decorating his nose, the slight redness on his ears, the pimple that was starting to form at the center of his forehead, and the small and almost invisible black hairs on his upper lip and chin. He was still the most beautiful person you had ever seen, no one else could compare, not even Mrs. Kim.

He put his right hand up to drag it through his hair once, the sweat at his hairline being dragged back into his hair. You could see him having an internal debate, he was trying to say something, you could tell by the way his mouth would slightly open before closing again.

” come, I made food for you.”

His accent was heavy, but he pronounced every word with such precision that you had no problem understanding what he was trying to say.

He said come once more and made hand gestures to follow him out into the hallway instead of just standing in the middle of the elevator. He started walking backward to make sure that you followed him completely out. He didn't take his eyes off you anymore, almost like you would suddenly disappear if he did.

” sure, yeah, I am not that hungry though so I hope you haven't put too much effort into this.”

He shakes his head up and down, it made you unsure if he had truly understood the whole sentence you had said. You had to remind yourself to speak clearly, simple, and slow from now on. Junseo’s words on your mind. You had to make Jimin comfortable and make him feel good about his language skills. You didn't want him to feel bad about himself or make him think that you don't appreciate his time and effort in learning a new language for you.

You had zooned out for a moment, letting your thoughts go back to your and Junseo’s conversation in the airport lounge. You haven't even seen Jimin’s attempt to take your hand in his. You had only seen his begging eyes filled to the brim with hope. He let out a small whine, only then did you see his right hand only a few centimeters away from your left hand.

You know what he is trying to do.

He already has the connection with you. And you know that the distance between you two is killing him at the moment. But you also know that as soon as you touch him the link will start to form for you too. And you didn't know if you were ready to feel Jimin’s emotions, heartbeat, and distance. And maybe that was selfish of you, as he was only standing a few centimeters away from you with tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes. But you weren't ready for that commitment yet. You wanted a little more freedom exploring your new hometown without having your heart explode in pain due to the distance you would put between you and him. And you wanted to see him with clear eyes before the soulmate bond made you completely blind. You wanted to fall in love without the bond.

” please.”

Jimin’s desperate voice brought you back from your thoughts. You met his eyes once again. He had let his tears fall. Straining his cheeks and neck. The foundation he was wearing washed away with the continuous flow of tears. The sweat on his body was not helping him either. He looked like a mess, a beautiful mess, but still a mess.

You saw that his patience was running out. His eyes went from sad and desperate to aggressive in a matter of seconds. He must have thought that enough was enough, as he started to close the small distance between you. You tried to take a big step back but was met with the closed elevator door blocking your path. The metal door slightly shook when your back met with it.

He was breathing hard, his whole-body damp with sweat. The thin white clothing he was wearing was sticking to his skin making you able to see his trained stomach and arms. On his rib was a tattoo that stood out against the rest of his olive skin. You couldn't tell what was written, but you saw that the tattoo was made up of big bold letters. You wondered what meaning it had to him.

He started walking towards you, only letting a few centimeters be between you. He placed his right arm beside your head on the door. You could see his fist tightening from the corner of your eye.

He looks completely out of it. And even though you haven't known him for long, you could still tell that this wasn't him. This is the bond playing with his mind.

“Jimin, just relax I am going to touch you soon, just give me more time.”

He tilted his head back, his neck on full display for you his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed, he then took a deep breath in and out.

” say my name again.” he said with lust dripping from his voice.

Both of you had only gotten your letters four days ago, this reaction shouldn't be happening unless you had gone well over a week without each other after receiving your letters. You wondered if it was an option to call Junseo and tell him Jimin had gone crazy, but you know he wouldn't be here in time to save you from Jimin’s touch.

” Jimin, just take a step back and-.”

He didn’t let you finish though. He let his head fall to your shoulder with his nose turned towards your neck. He let out a long moan. His hands made its way around your waist, squeezing your flesh.

You felt the bond start immediately. The first thing you could feel was his heartbeat inside you beating slow and steady. Then the utterly content feeling of being in his arms hit you with such an overwhelming strength that when his emotion came, you didn't know how to handle it. You instantly felt your knees give out and sweat starting to form at your back. His hands were the only thing keeping you standing at this point.

” hush jagiya.” he whispered into your neck.

His emotions we're overwhelming you. You could feel the love, happiness, admiration, craving, and excitement. You didn't know it was possible to feel so many emotions at the same time before now.

You didn't understand how it was possible to live with this connection nor did you understand how men could live their whole lives while feeling someone else inside them. It had to be torturing to live like this without the other person beside you. You started to understand Jimin’s reaction to you standing in front of him. You feel the desperate need to be close to him, but you know the feeling isn't coming from you. It was coming from him.

“ You are thinking (y/n). Stop thinking, only me now.”

You could feel his lust strong and heavy through the bond. It came in waves, the next one always stronger than the one before. He was pressing his hips into your stomach. You could feel his hard erection grinding into you. It came to a point where you didn't know if it was your lust or his lust you were feeling.

” Jimin I need you to back off. We can go inside and talk about this, you don't want to have sex only a couple of minutes after meeting me, I promise. It’s only the bond getting to your head.”

He shakes his head a little, not leaving the warmth of your neck.

” No, don't want not touch you.”

He was struggling more to put together his sentences now that the lust had taken over his mind.

Okay, let's try a different approach (y/n). You can be mad and tell him off later.

” I am hungry, let's eat together Jimin.”

It seemed to work because you could slowly feel the lust start to fade. It was replaced with confusion then realization.

You were left with completely soaked underwear as the only reminder to what happened only a second before.

Jimin slowly lifted his head from your shoulder, brushing his jawline and chin against your cheek in the process of doing so.

His hands remained on your body. Feeling every single curve, squeezing, and pulling.

He looked like a mess. Dried tears, sweat, and heavy breathing. Still you thought it wasn't possible to find someone cuter than him after he started to smile from ear to ear.

” I made food for you.”

You could feel the pride through the bond. He was proud of himself and it made your heart warm. You couldn't help the smile that made its way on your face.

” yeah I know, let's eat Jimin. I am really excited to see what you have made.”

He nodded happily, the smile never leaving his face. Then he took a small step back, his hands slowly leaving your waist and hips alone. But just a second after his hands left you, his right hand made its way into your left. He struggled a little with making you understand that he wanted your fingers to be intertwined, but we’re more than happy once you finally understood what he was trying to do.

” come, come, come.” He said while he was tugging on your hand.

You followed him through the hallway. You didn't realize before now, but you were already in his apartment. The elevator had taken you straight into his home. The painting of him and six other men on the wall was enough confirmation on that.

You tried to take in as much as possible while he was dragging you deeper into his home. This was the place you would be spending all your time for the next weeks. So, you tried your best to make a map in your head of where everything was placed and where all the different rooms were as he dragged you through every corner of his home. He had even made sure to show you all the different drawers and all of its content in every single room. You tried your best not to laugh as he showed you where his underwear and socks were located, but it was hard not to. He likely felt the embarrassment and awkwardness through the bond, because he became red and flustered only a few seconds later. It made you a little sad, seeing him so proud of his neatly folded boxers only to become embarrassed because of your embarrassment.

Was this a cultural thing for Koreans. Show your soulmate how tidy and clean you are?

The living room was undoubtedly the room that impressed you the most. The huge windows made up the whole wall for both this and the next floor. The view of Seoul was impossible to ignore, even though you were standing far away from the windows.

Beautiful white stairs were on both sides of the living room, leading up to the second floor. The second floor considered of only a few paintings and sculptures with 4 different doors leading to bedrooms and bathrooms.

The kitchen and living room were made into one room, giving the already huge room an even more open feeling. There were small details placed everywhere, it made you wonder if he has hired someone to design his home or if he did it himself.

The kitchen was modern but still gave you a warm feeling. There were several different plants placed throughout the kitchen, it looked like some of them were herbs, but you could be wrong. You could only really tell after smelling them.

There was a huge dining table behind you decorated with many beautiful plates filled with all different kinds of food that you have never seen before. The smell of all the different dishes was filling the room with the smell of different spices you didn't know what was. It was exotic and exciting.

” Namjoon-Hyung and Jin-Hyung help me make food.”

You have to admit, he was extremely cute when he tried to put his sentences together. All that focus on such a cute little face.

” that’s very nice of them Jimin.”

He let your hand go only to put his hands around your waist to push the two of you towards the table filled with all the goods.

Then you saw it. On small pink cards were the names and descriptions of each and every dish written in English. He picked up one of them and said the name in Korean before using the pink card as a script to describe to you what everything was.

He really had planned everything.

It has been a few hours since you first arrived at Jimin’s apartment. He had made you taste each and every dish he had prepared and tried his best to explain what they all were. He also held a small chopsticks course for you to try to make it easier for you to pick up the food. However, not everything was easy to pick up with chopsticks, so everything you couldn't manage to get with your chopsticks we're fed to you by Jimin.

Jimin seems like a nice guy, the only problem is the fact that he touched you without permission. You tried not to let the feeling of betrayal and annoyance get through the bond, but it was awkward just sitting with him and pretending nothing had happened. He had no idea that he did something wrong either. You would have felt it through the bond. Or maybe he was an extremely good actor and a master of keeping his feelings to himself. It made sense; he has been able to practice for many years. You were the newbie to this.

You didn't know how you could explain to him that what he did was wrong, with the little words he knew in English. It would only lead to confusion. And you didn't want to have another person translate this awkward but unfair situation either. This was between you and him, and you will have a conversation with him about it, just not right now or anytime soon.

He looked happy though, really happy. You could also feel it through the bond. He was happy, but you felt another feeling too. You couldn't pinpoint it, but it felt like a fear of disappointment. But then again it could be your feeling. You didn't understand how to separate your feeling and his feelings yet. Right now, it just felt like one. It was distracting, not to know your own feelings anymore. The only thing you could focus on was trying to separate them from each other.

Jimin didn't seem to mind you spacing out all the time. The only thing he cared about was that his body was touching yours at all times. He had brought you around the apartment to show you all the different rooms, never letting go of your hand. There were three bedrooms, four bathrooms, a dance/ gym, a huge kitchen and living room area, and a mini-cinema room. The mini cinema was perhaps your favorite room and probably where you would spend most of your time. It was simple and cute. Not anything fancy or luxurious, just a projector and a small couch with lots of blankets and pillows.

Nothing in his insanely big apartment was overwhelmingly luxurious. Everything in his home had a purpose and nothing was screaming ’rich guy with too much money that doesn't know what the hell to use it on’. It made you a lot more comfortable, knowing that he wasn't one to show off.

You had gotten into a little argument about the sleeping arrangement after he explained that his room was also your room now. You had tried to explain to him that you wanted one of the guest rooms for the time being, but he didn't seem to understand what was wrong about his room. You hadn't searched for any information about Korean soulmate culture before coming here, even though that would have been good information to have right now.

You gave yourself a mental note to make some research on what was normal here.

You already knew that there would likely be some culture crashes here and there. Especially when it came to soulmate culture. Your country had lots of laws protecting the woman's right under the process of newly matched soulmates. And in your culture, it was normal for the woman not wanting to be touched the first day or even week. It was also completely normal for the woman to sleep in a different room the first few weeks as it's kinda awkward to sleep beside someone you don't know, even if they were your soulmate.

You guessed Korea's soulmate culture was much more straight forward. He forcefully touched you even though you practically begged him not to. And he is expecting you to sleep beside him tonight. It was hard not to be mad, but then again this was presumably just another culture crash. And you knew you and Jimin would face a lot of problems connected to cultural differences.

This would be a learning process for both of you. You knew that. You would just have to talk, listen, and agree to disagree with a lot of things. That's the only way this would work.

He just had to learn better English first. So that both of you knew what you were agreeing to disagree on. Or maybe you just had to learn Korean.

The night arrived faster than you wanted it too. You and Jimin had been spending almost the whole day on the big couch in the living room, talking about the past, present, and future. A lot of Google translate we're involved but also a lot of hand gestures and weird sounds. The both of you were able to communicate on a basic level but still have deep and meaningful conversations. It made you relieved and hopeful for the future.

It was only when he suggested the both of you to go to bed to sleep that you started to lose a little of that hope you had previously gotten.

” No.”

That stupid little shithead.

”Lisen, it only for a couple of weeks, until we get to know each other better. Besides, it's not like I am going to sleep in a different house. I am literally on the other side of that wall!”

He just shakes his head continuously while you talked. He was leaning on the side of the doorframe to his room. His arms were folded making his muscles pop and his brows furrowed harshly on his forehead. He did not look pleased with your request.

” No.”

You didn't get what the problem was. You would get to see each other in the morning. You had gotten the impression that Koreans were practically the most respectful people on the earth. Mrs. Kim was a walking example of that. Jet here he was, acting like the biggest drama queen in the universe

” Just give me one night to myself Jimin. Please, I am too tired to fight about this now. I have literally been on a plane for a whole day. Don't do this to me.”

His posture didn't change one bit. Arms still folded and brows still pulled tight together.

” I say no.”

He unfolds his arms so that he could point towards the king-sized bed in his room. His whole arm we're flexing. You feel his frustration growing larger by the seconds.

” This is your bed.”

Then he used the same finger to point to the bed in the room you had tried to sneak into only a few minutes before.

” That is for friend. Not soulmate.”

He was stubborn as hell. You weren't necessarily known for being the most patient woman, but you thanked God for giving you enough of it to not start screaming on the guy standing in front of you.

” Jimin, please just-.”

He didn't give you more time to try to convince him. One of his hands went around you back and the other around the bend of your knees. Everything had happened so fast that you didn't even realize what was happening before he was placing you carefully down on his bed. The soft bed sank a little by your weight.

He didn't say anything, just turned around and walked straight into his closet. Seconds later he appeared with a baggy white shirt and a pair of boxers. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and gave you the two items. He looked more relaxed now that you were laying on his bed. His eyes were kind, and his arms were no longer flexing with the frustration he previously had.

” You change to this, is more comfortable.”

two people can play the game you are playing Jimin. Don't think otherwise.

” No.”

You instantly felt the confusion through the bond, but it was quickly replaced with frustration. His mouth opened and it looked like he was ready to scold you. But it never came. He closes his mouth again and looked down on his feet nodding a few times.

” Okay.”

He stood up and walked to the other side of the bed. His side of the bed. Then turned off the lights. You could hear him taking off his skirt and pants, but the room was too dark to see him actually doing it. Then you felt the covers being lifted before his wight we're evenly placed along the bed.

He was going to sleep without another word. Letting you lay on top of the covers in your not so comfortable jumpsuit.

Maybe you should have just done what he asked. Because there was no way you would be able to fall asleep in your jumpsuit. You would just have to wait until you were certain that the man beside you were fast asleep before changing. You didn't want him to know that you did as he told you to.

One thing was for sure. You were not going to sleep without knowing more about Korean Soulmate culture. So you took your phone out of your pocket ready to search every corner of the internet for information.

After many hours of researching on Korean soulmate etiquette, you fell asleep determined that night that you would confront Jimin tomorrow.

#bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts idol!au #bts senarios #bts soulmate #bts soulmate au #chimchim #jimin #jimin fluff #jimin idol!au #jimin x reader #jimin x y/n #soulmate!jimin #soulmate #love series chapter 3 #bts reactions #bts reaction #bts x y/n #bts x reader

162 notes · View notes

lasting-inkpressions · 3 years

Text

Oasis (1/2)

Summary: When they were alone, she couldn’t stop herself from constantly wanting to touch her, as if to make sure she wasn’t just a fever dream. Just a brush of her fingers here, a tap of her shoulder there, hands holding her waist, thighs pressing against each other. Denali was a like a drug that Rosé never wanted to give up.

And yet she had to.

Note: I just had to write this and get it out of my system. I don’t know if it’ll have smut in the end, but we’ll see.

Prefer reading it on AO3?

Rosé gripped the steering wheel as Denali hummed along to the radio next to her, oblivious to the thoughts racing through the other girl’s head. They were heading to The Blu Lagoon on Rosé’s night off for a night of dancing, something that the both of them loved to do. It was their love for music and dance that had first brought them together, Rosé having first been attracted to the way Denali had moved on the dance floor without a care in the world, ignoring all the lustful stares on her and just moving to the beat.

Denali had been new to New York, moving from Chicago to train with a new ice skating coach. It was a cold chilly night of just exploring the night life when she had chanced upon The Blu Lagoon. The bouncer, Kandy, had let her in with just a wink when she had stood staring at the bright fluorescent lights spelling out the name of the club slash bar, letting her completely bypass the line, and she was soon engulfed in the magical world that was The Blu Lagoon. The swirling lights of blue, pink and purple and the disco like dance floor drew her almost like a moth to a flame. She had gone to the bar first and ordered a few shots from the bartender, who’s name tag read “Joey”, before finally stepping onto the dance floor. It was there where she finally felt as if she had found a place where she could call home.

With the rhythm pounding and the beat thrumming about, Denali began to sway to the music, eyes closed as she let the music wash over her. She felt hands reach for her, but she easily danced out of their reach, not wanting anyone to disturb the peace that she had finally found. It had been a struggle for the past few days trying to fit into a city that felt so different and foreign. The people were different, cultures and mannerisms almost unknown to her, and she had worried if she’d ever find her footing, but there in that moment, one thing was for certain: music was her ground zero.

The music started to ebb after a while, and the sound of a live band began to come on. Opening her eyes, Denali spun around before her eyes finally landed on the stage where three women stood before a live band, microphones at the ready as they started to speak, introducing themselves as Stephanie’s Child. Her eyes traced their faces, clocking the pastel and bright coloured hair before settling on the one on the right. She had thick pink curls pulled into a high ponytail and had introduced herself as Rosé, and in that moment, Denali knew there was something special about her. When the girls began to sing, Denali closed her eyes again and let the music and their voices take over, guiding her movements. She soaked in their sound as the music took over her, their voices seeming to caress her very skin. Opening her eyes once more, dark brown eyes met hazel ones, and a fire seemed to envelope her. Smirking, she carried on moving to the music. Denali broke eye contact and spun around, back to the stage, but very much aware of the eyes burning holes into her back.

When their set had ended, Denali had gone back to the bar to order a drink, her skin now damp with sweat from how much energy she had expanded while dancing. She perched herself on a stool, sipping her drink, a simple glass of rum and coke to cool her down, when she felt a presence next to her. Turning her head, she watched as Rosé ordered a drink for herself from Joey before turning to face her, a lopsided grin on her face.

That very night, Rosé had brought Denali home and fucked her through the night. She remembered the nips to her throat, the wet slide of skin on skin and the broken moans being fucked out of her, her hips and thighs blooming with finger shaped bruises. The next morning, Rosé had woken her up with kisses and her fingers and orgasms while Denali whimpered, oversensitive and thoroughly fucked out. She had left her place with shaky legs and Rosé’s phone number saved in her phone, and the rest was history.

It had been a whirlwind of a few months, with romantic dates, shared kisses and relentless love making. The chemistry between them had been explosive, and even though Rosé wasn’t quite ready to put a label to whatever it was that they had, Denali didn’t mind because at the end of the day, it was her arms that kept her safe and sound.

New York was now her second home. Jan and Lagoona felt like her own sisters with how often she was over at their place. She’d made friends with the other people at the bar, Kandy and Joey being the first, then Tamisha later on. She’d learned that the sisters were the owners of the bar, and that Tamisha was the one who ran the day to day operations. Denali had even started to get to know Olivia, one of the other skaters that was also training under Utica, her new coach. Life in New York was finally settling for her, and she was happy.

What Denali hadn’t known was that Utica had been talking to Rosé.

Rosé had been happy too with how their relationship had been progressing. She had fallen for the spirit and fire that Denali had exuded on the dance floor, and the more she got to know her, the more she felt herself falling deeper and deeper. Rosé loved how Denali seemed to embody life itself. She was always so full of passion and energy, and it was especially obvious when she was on the rink, blades cutting the ice and body fluid in her movements as she moved from trick to trick. Rosé had been so enamoured with everything that was Denali that she couldn’t imagine her life without the ice princess. Her ice princess.

Sometimes the overwhelming feelings that she felt for the other girl scared her, feeling her own happiness hinging more and more onto her. Before Denali had come into her life, Rosé had been perfectly happy being her strong independent self. Sure, she had flings here and there, but none of them seemed to compare to the blonde. Rosé wanted to keep Denali to herself, wanted to keep her locked up in a cage so that no one else could have her, so that she could have her all to herself, afraid to lose her.

When they were alone, she couldn’t stop herself from constantly wanting to touch her, as if to make sure she wasn’t just a fever dream. Just a brush of her fingers here, a tap of her shoulder there, hands holding her waist, thighs pressing against each other. Denali was a like a drug that Rosé never wanted to give up.

And yet she had to.

Rosé had been watching Denali during one of her practices at the rink, watching her warm up on the ice before going through the motions of her routine when Utica had approached her, sitting next to her. They had watched Denali skating on the ice for a bit before Utica began to talk. She was saying how Rosé was starting to become a distraction, and that before she had come around, Denali had been completely dedicated to the ice. Now with Rosé in the picture, her focus had wavered, and her chances of being able to make it to the nationals were looking slimmer with each passing day. Rosé felt herself grow numb as Utica continued, saying how Denali was destined for great things, that the world was her oyster, but how could the world be hers if she was tethered here?

It was like a slap to the face as Rosé processed what Utica was saying. That she was holding her back.

That Rosé was the one keeping Denali away from her dreams.

Utica had patted her on the shoulder, giving her one last meaningful look as she walked back to the rink to Denali, and Rosé knew that Denali had never been hers to keep.

As Rosé pulled up into the parking lot behind The Blu Lagoon, she killed the engine and sat in silence, unsure of how to broach the topic. If she didn’t speak now, she was afraid that she’d never let Denali go. Taking a deep breath, she turned to look at Denali, feeling herself die a little as the blonde looked back at her, eyes bright and lips stretched into a smile.

“Denali, what are we doing?” Her smile faltered, and Rosé felt her heart clench, already second guessing what she was about to do. “What do you mean, Rosie?” Rosé took a deep breath. She could do this, this was for Denali’s own good. She had to severe this thing between them before she was too far gone and wouldn’t be able to let her go.

“I mean what are we doing together? You shouldn’t be with me, and yes, it’s been fun and it’s been nice, but I think…” Rosé paused, her heart clenching as she saw Denali’s lower lip tremble. Could she really go through with this? Could she really break her heart?

“But you think what, Rosie?” Swallowing hard, Rosé continued. “I think we should end this.”

There was a deafening silence as Rosé looked to the front, refusing to meet Denali’s gaze. “…what?” She swallowed the lump in her throat, nodding as her hands clenched into fists. She couldn’t take it back anymore, now that it was finally out there in the open. A beat later, she felt Denali’s hand on her clenched fist. She bit the inside of her cheek as she fought not to take hold of Denali’s hand.

“Rosé, look at me.”

Taking a shuddering breath, Rosé looked at Denali, and her heart stilled as tear filled brown eyes looked back at her.

“I love you, Rosé. I love you, and I know that you love me too.”

Shaking her head, Rosé whispered back as she tore her eyes away from Denali’s face. “You’re wrong.” She felt Denali’s hand on hers tighten, fingers shaking.

“I don’t believe you. Rosé, look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t love me.”

Rosé shut her eyes, swallowing hard. She could do this. She had to do this. It was for her own good. She looked back at Denali, the tears in Denali’s eyes now falling, her lips trembling as if silently pleading with her.

“I don’t love you, Denali.”

There was a stillness in the air, and time seemed to tick at a glacial pace before Denali finally moved her hand, sniffing as she wiped her tears away. She moved to get out of the car when Rosé stopped her. “Wait, let me take you home.” Denali laughed bitterly, turning to look at Rosé, eyes almost devoid of any life.

“I don’t know what makes you think that I’m going home now. I came here to dance, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. You can go home if you want to, but I’m staying right here.”

Denali opened the door and slammed it shut behind her, walking away from Rosé and back to the dance floor that she knew and loved.

————————————————————————

I swear this will end well.

#rosenali #rpdr fanfiction #oasis fic #inkpression writes

7 notes · View notes

peebleswrites · 4 years

Note

Can I pleaseeee request something with Ulquiorra!? It's difficult to see him being sweet or romantic but I'm ready for whatever he can give 🤣

GASP. YAY. FIRST REQUEST. THANK YOU. Gotta say, this was a challenge! But it was always really fun and I enjoyed writing this piece. I hope you like it!

ULQUIORRA X FEMALE!READER

About three months had gone by since the Arrancars mysteriously appeared in the world of the living, sans the previously deep seeded hatred of humans and Shinigami. In short, they had no evil intentions whatsoever and seemed curious, some more than others, over the lifestyle of humans.

Everyone was of course wary, worried they’d fly off the handle and a war would once again loom on the horizon in the minds of both the soul society and the world of the living. Until Y/N was the first to offer an extension of goodwill to the once evildoers, thus triggering a snowball affect of successful communication between the three parties.

And so, the former Espada remained in the world of the living, assimilating into the culture and assuming somewhat normal lives!

“Say Y/N,” Orihime began one afternoon during lunch upon the roof. All eyes trained to the busty bubble of joy as she posed a question in Y/N’s direction.

“What’s your type? I mean, what sort of guy are you interested in?” Pretty much everyone was equally surprised as they were curious which included a certain arrancar who’d normally find such drabble ridiculous and an utter waste of time.

Since his arrival, or rather, since those of his kind had been accepted in this world, Ulquiorra had taken something of an interest in Y/N. She was the first to accept him, all of them, and he’d always been curious concerning her reasoning. Surely, she intended to gain something by having them as allies, right? Y/N was just a human. It would make sense for her to align herself with the strong.

Yet…she didn’t appear to him as the type to use people for her own advantage. This only made her all the more interesting. As such, he used any and all opportunities afforded to him. All in efforts to garner what her true intentions were.

This was one of those opportunities.

“My type? Mmm…I guess someone who’s smart.” Y/N started before considering the rest of her response.

“Heh, that excludes you, Shinigami.” Grimmjow was first to comment, roughly punching Ichigo in the shoulder with that snarl of a grin covering his feral features. The jab nor the remark was taken well by the aforementioned male who soon retaliated with an equal amount of force.

“What the hell?! That means you too, dumbass!” And of course, that triggered the beginning of their usual bout which everyone had gotten so used to, it was pretty much ignored.

“I do like the strong, silent type, too. Oh! And a bit of spontaneity! You know, keeps things interesting!” While everyone seemed to agree, secretly they began to wonder just who among them she might be interested in. Meanwhile Ulquiorra was on an entirely different wavelength.

If Y/N found these qualities to be appealing, perhaps he could gain her trust by assuming these roles and therefore fulfill this self-appointed purpose of discovering her true intentions, thus deciding for himself if she were truly someone worthy of his trust.

No, it didn’t sound at all crazy in his head.

He has the smart part down and feels sufficiently confident in his intellect. Nothing to worry about there. The same can be said of his strength and more so of his silence. He is neither loud, nor boisterous. And while he wouldn’t call himself antisocial, he is prone to speak when he feels it is necessary to speak. Silence with a purpose.

That leaves the spontaneity.

In order to tackle this trait efficiently, he took to the human world dictionary!

“Performed or occurring as a result of a sudden inner impulse or inclination and without premeditation or external stimulus…” This may be something of a challenge for him. He never acts without thinking, without purpose. In fact, he is hard pressed to believe he could start. But not entirely convinced…yes, he could do this.

He would start by following Y/N. Not in the creepy stalker sense but more along the lines of trying to get to know her likes without actually asking himself. He would use the ever talkative Orihime to do his bidding.

“What sort of candy do you like, Y/N? I like something sweet and tangy but also sour and a little bitter with a fluffy kind of texture!” Dear gods, what could she possibly be describing was the expression that Ulquiorra currently wore while listening to the conversation. Y/N assumed a rather uneasy expression before responding accordingly.

“I like F/C. Not really a fan of much else.” Y/N’s response was simple something Ulquiorra could appreciate and perhaps do something with.

“So that’s what she likes…”

The next day, all eyes were on the former fourth espada when he strolled into class, dragging a large sack behind him which he dumped onto Y/N’s desk without a word. She stared at him then the sack partially obscuring her vision before opening her mouth to respond

“Uh…Ulquiorra? What’s this?”

“Don't ask useless questions.” And that was all he said before casually walking to his chair like he didn’t rouse the entire class with a cloud of confusion. With furrowed brows, Y/N peeked into the sack, only to spot copious amount of her favorite candy! It looked like a whole year’s supply of it! What the heck…

Who could’ve known that he’d been listening in on her conversation with Orihime? Or that he’d continue to do such in order to exercise this growing need to display his spontaneity. Which, he realized at one point, wasn’t really spontaneous at all because he was thinking about these acts way too hard!

Like when she expressed a desire to have more rice in her lunch, so he proceeded to give her extra portions the next day. Or when she grew tired during gym and he suddenly picked her up over his shoulder to run the rest of her laps. Or when she complained over the lack of sleep she was getting due to the neighbor’s dog barking all night so he insisted on training the canine not to be noisy.

Okay so…maybe he was being spontaneous, but Y/N had grown suspicious enough and needed some answers.

“Ah…Ulquiorra? Could I talk to you for a moment?” Y/N approached him after class one day, appearing somewhat nervous. He agreed with a simple nod while teeming on the inside with anticipation. This could quite possibly be the moment he has been working for so diligently. His efforts were at last being acknowledged.

“Uh so…listen, it’s about uhm…how you’ve been acting recently…” If it wasn’t obviously, Y/N was having a hard time expressing what she really wanted to say. Ulquiorra, of course, noticed this.

“Speak, woman.” A curt response that Y/N honestly should’ve expected prompted nothing more than a sigh.

“What’s your problem?!” Which triggered an explosive response that Ulquiorra honestly didn’t see coming if the sight of his eyes widening were any indication.

“Elaborate.” Eyes that soon softened to their normal size while gleaming with hints of mild apprehension for he never expected her of all people to express feelings of displeasure with him.

“You keep doing these weird things! First it was the candy! Then all the rice! Then you carried me around the track even when I told you to put me down! Now my neighbor is telling me you trained their dog! Are you making fun of me? Is this some arrancar way of bullying?!”

“You believe I am bullying you?”

“Yes!”

She was yelling at him. And calling him a bully, of all things. How could his intentions have been so horribly misinterpreted? How could she misunderstand him to such a degree? Could he have been wrong? Were his methods misguided or incorrect? It would seem he would need to evaluate his form of spontaneity and employ a different tactic.

“I see. I will try something else, then.” Yes, he would go back to the drawing board, reconsider his options, his resources, and try other ways of being spontaneous.

“Wait!” Y/N name suddenly grabbed onto his arm. His eyes instantly fell to her hands. Her touch triggered a slither of a response, a tingling sensation that was unfamiliar. When’s the last time anyone had laid non-threatening hands on him, he wondered.

“What?” Visibly she flinched back but maintained her countenance alongside the ever-present confusion.

“What are you trying to do? What’s all this about? I want to know!” This expression. The raw emotion on her face. He remembered it well. It was this stubborn, foolish disposition she maintained that played a key role in the Shinigami taking their presence as a non-threat. It was this expression that led him to find a purpose through her.

It was this very same gleam that triggered perhaps the most spontaneous act he’d committed thus far, the cupping of his hand upon her cheek. He wouldn’t be able to explain what caused him to do it or why his hand stayed. He just knew her cheek felt soft and warm and he sort liked the way her expression shifted as his hand remained.

“Your ‘type,’ as you humans refer to it, is someone who is spontaneous, is it not?” He brandished his usual emotionless façade, awaiting a response from her aside from the stunned silence she seemed to be trapped in.

“I…you…ah…you want to be my type…?” Dumbfounded. She was utterly dumbfounded. And he couldn’t understand why she was behaving so shocked. Wasn’t he being obvious?

“In a manner of speaking, yes. I see now that my actions are ineffective.” How ridiculous. For him to fail at such a task was unprecedented. He could hardly fathom such a thing. As such, he needed to take time away, regroup, and think of different ways to convey this message to her.

“If you’ll excuse me.” His hand fell away from her cheek only to be grabbed by one of hers. A second extension of contact and a second shock that shot up his senses. He eyed her once again with his empty stare, but she didn’t appear at all perturbed by it. In fact, she offered a rather hopeless smile.

“I…I think it’s working. I mean, you’ve got my attention.” Once again, she stunned him. This time, not with her gleaming determination but with a meek smile and subtle, gentle, squeezing of his hand. He couldn’t have imagined such a small gesture could be so impactful. How strange…

“Oh? I will continue, then.”

“Wait, no—.”

It would seem he was at least on the right track to deciphering her true intentions while simultaneously gaining her trust. Surely, he’d get it this spontaneous act right eventually.

A/N: Poor Ulquiorra. He means well. Again, hope you enjoy! Also this is my first time doing this so I hope the format isn't weird? Thanks!

#bleach x reader #bleach #ulquiora schiffer #ulquiorra x reader #fanfiction #bleach requests

271 notes · View notes

achaoticeternal · 4 years

Text

BACK TO YOU

PETER PARKER X POC!READER masterlist // taglist

Request: anon - “76 and 80 with Peter Parker and T’challa Sister Reader”

Summary: When you look back on it, life before the Snap was simpler and nearly perfect. You had family, purpose, and a sense of home. Now you have to search for that purpose and home again. Word Count: 1.8k A/N: This is my first work where the reader is explicitly intended to be POC/ BIPOC. I thoroughly enjoyed writing this and I hope that I did the reader proper justice. I researched to make sure I avoided anything sensitive or touchy. If I have missed something or need to further look into something, please correct me and let me know. Warnings: Angst, Death, Loss

You remember life before the Snap all too well. The prosperity of Wakanda, exploring the outside world, meeting people from all walks of life - it was simply astonishing.

You remembered sitting with the tribal council to talk about starting the Outreach Program. Wakanda would continue to disguise itself as a third-world country that refused aid from the Western cultures, while also reaching out to the nations in need throughout Africa. The hopes of welcoming in the rest of the world sat not only of your shoulders but T’Challa’s and Shuri’s as well. That hope had existed in your father too, until the bombing of the UN Meeting.

You remember traveling with your siblings to America to visit the Avenger’s Compound. While Shuri was excited to see what science America and Tony Stark offered, you were just excited to meet people from all walks of life. You had read and watched so much from your research about the States, but now you could finally experience it.

As a guest of Tony Stark, your stay was just as lavish as your life at home. You didn’t know where to start with your exploration and studies that you needed to gather in order to consult with the Council upon your return to Wakanda. Yet, that’s when you met him. Peter Parker - a regular boy from New York City who also happened to be an Avenger. He was your sister’s age and just as creative and inventive as Shuri. The pair of them became friends easily. But Peter was also a kind soul, who wanted to make sure that everyone felt welcomed when they were around him.

It was easy to befriend Peter. He was goofy, always lightened the mood, and constantly put others before himself. You remember the first night that the pair of you accidentally stayed up all night while asking each other questions about all matters of life. As time went on; Peter, Shuri, and yourself became a trio that caused quite a ruckus in the compound.

But you’d never forget one night when you were chatting about the differences between adolecense in America versus Wakanda. Peter told you about high school, Prom, American football, and the awkwardness of the talking phase.

“Are you in the friendzone with somebody?” You asked, wondering if he;d be honest.

“I definitely have been. This one girl, she was super cool, but her dad literally tried to kill me. And now he’s in jail, and she’s across the country... so I guess I’m technically in the friendzone anymore,” He laughed awkwardly.

“Sorry... that sounds weird.”

“It was, but that doesn’t happen like... with everyone. Just superheros, I guess,” the two of you laughed together.

“Even though Wakanda is an advanced nation, we still treasure some of our traditions and custom. Not dowries and arranged marriages, but the idea of courting is widely popular.”

“Well, is someone courting you?”

“Me?” You laughed, not at him, but just the thought, “No, I don’t have anyone that is trying to, nor am I looking for someone right now. It’s not the priority for the women in my country. We always serve Wakanda before any man. Okoye serves to protect and lead the warriors of Wakanda, Nakia serves our country by helping others, Shuri serves by offering new science and knowledge”

“And you?”

“I serve my country by seeking allies outside of borders, by offering harmony, and by seeking no only what Wakanda can offer the world- but what the world can offer Wakanda. Even though I want to open our nation to the world, I will not let those in who seek to exploit it.”

“Wow, I- that’s just amazing. It puts my life into perspective. Your life constantly seems to have a purpose and a reason”

“Yeah,” you smiled, “well, we also make sure to keep life fun, and simple”

“Can I just say something? Even if I sound dumb and goofy...”

“Of course, Peter. I would consider us friends so go ahead,” You responded, shifting yourself around in order to pull your legs up onto the couch.

“Well, you’re just so interesting and fascinating. You’re so knowledgeable about the world around you and also extremely sincere about everything you say or do,” his cheeks tinted a light pink as he spoke.

His words came as a pleasant surprise and a fuzzy warmth settled in your heart, “I- Peter?”

“Yes?”

“There’s one thing I’m not very familiar with, but I’m hoping you can teach me,” you said while leaning towards him.

Instinctively, Peter also leaned into you, “What can I teach you?”

“Will you teach me how to kiss?”

It’s been five years and four months since that night. You hadn’t seen Peter in five years and two months. Because that’s when he arrived and took everything away.

When Steve Rogers and the Black Widow had contacted Wakanda in an emergency, you knew something was wrong. T’Challa and you had seen the spacecraft that had landed in New York along with various pictures from news outlets and social media that showed Iron Man, Doctor Strange, and Spider-Man all protecting the city. Yet, apparently they ended up in the ship on it’s way out of orbit.

You hoped it wasn’t true. So you called Peter. If he picked up, you knew he wasn’t lost in space. You dialed his number and let if ring. There was no answer. Maybe he was changing back into civilian clothing. You dialed again - voicemail. Again - voicemail. Again - voicemail. You dialed and listened to his voicemail continually.

“Hi! This is Peter Parker and I’m super sorry I missed your call. Leave me a voicemail and try again later!”

You kept trying to call him, tears streaming down your face. You called, listened to the ringing followed by his voicemail until your phone died. Peter was gone, lost in the void of space, and for the first time in a long time, you were scared.

But then Thanos’ army arrived in Wakanda. Shuri was working to get the Infinity Stone out of Vision’s head while T’Challa helped Captain Rogers lead what was left of the Avengers and Wakanda’s armies. You assisted by offering air support from the lab Shuri was in - simultaneously protecting the skies and your sister.

When Thor arrived, hope filled your heart. Until an alien attacked the lab, your sister, and Vision. You tried to fight it off and keep it out of the lab, but it hit you upside the head with it’s staff. You only woke up when Shuri grabbed your shoulders and shook you into consciousness.

“Sister, sister - the borders have fallen and now Thanos has arrived. Okoye and T’Challa are fighting in the forested areas. The armies remain battalking on the plains, but all the support we can offer is gone. Vision is gone. I’m afraid, we have lost.”

The pair of you scrambled onto your feet and ran towards the window when the sky and land seemed to flash white. Out on the fields, ash appeared to be rising into the air. But it wasn’t thick and smokey like ash from a fire. You didn’t realize what the ash was until it was drifting in the air above your face.

“Sister,” you turned towards Shuri as her right arm slowly became transparent. But she seemed to be fixating on your arms. Then your eyes met as you realized what was happening.

You stumbled into each other’s arms, tears escaping your eyes, “Shuri?”

“Yes, my sister,” you could feel her hold on you fading.

“I’m scared”

For five long years, you were trapped in the soul stone. Alone, surrounded by a white void. Time didn’t seem to exist. Nothing seemed to exist. You sat there. You could never tell if you were asleep, dreaming, or wide awake. Honestly, you didn’t want to know.

It stayed like this until one day, a visitor appeared. The small blazing orange circle presented itself to you first, but then grew to reveal a hand. Then a body and then a face. The face of Doctor Strange, and their behind him - T’Challa and Shuri.

The Doctor stepped aside and allowed your siblings to step forward. T’Challa’s hand extended out to you, “Come, little sister. It’s time to return home to Earth.”

When you left the soul stone and returned back to the Earth, a war presented itself. The final battle of the Avengers against Thanos’ army. The battle for the universe to return to it’s former self.

When Thanos fell, you also felt the sadness the spread across the battlefield. But you also heard Peter. So you ran to him, as fast as your legs would let your grieving body. You were a few steps away when you realized the scene taking place in front of you.

Tony Stark, the only human to wield the power of all six Infinity Stones, was dying. Rhodey, Pepper, and Peter were all gathered around him. You ran up next to Peter, taking his hand into your own to show him you were there while the grief began to hit him.

“Mr. Stark - hey. Mr. Stark, it’s Peter,” Peter stumbled over to his mentor, his only father-figure left. You squatted slightly behind him as he said his goodbye, “hey, we won, Mr. Stark. We won, you did it, sir, you did it.”

Tony’s eyes flashed over to you and you nodded to show your appreciation and gratitude towards the man. In his eyes, you could tell he was trying to tell you something. ‘Take care of Peter.’

His eyes turned back to Peter as Rhodey approached you both from behind, “I’m sorry, Tony.”

You helped Peter stand and Pepper took her place with her husband, saying goodbye to the man she had loved for so long.

In the end, the Avengers were able to defeat Thanos and his army. But not without a great price to pay. Not only were the original Avengers no longer together, but Iron Man and Black Widow had died in order to save the Earth and the surrounding Universe.

Peter and you mourned the death of Tony with the others at Tony’s funeral. You hadn’t left his side since the battle and you would remain by him not only to offer him unconditional support and love, but to fulfill your promise to Tony. You watched the video Tony left to his close family with Pepper, Morgan, Rhodey, Steve, Happy, and Peter.

Before the processional began, the pair of you stepped into another room so that Peter could dry his tears, “(Y/N)...”

“Yes, Peter. Even though, I thought I had died in space, lost you to Thanos, and now- Tony being gone,” he took in a shaky breath, and you squeezed both his hands tightly, “I am happy about one thing.”

“And what is that, Peter?”

“We found each other. That’s all that matters.”

SPIDER-MAN TAGLIST: @underratedmisfit @inactivewhore

ALL MARVEL TAGLIST:

@underratedmisfit

In order to join a taglist, click the link at the top of this post.

45 notes · View notes

shineonyoucrazyyandere · 5 years

Note

any hcs or scenarios for yandere!la squadra with a crush thats not too fluent in italian? like maybe they're an exchange student or something?

I didn’t put Sorbet and Gelato because I was wiped by the end of writing this. I didn’t expect to make these hcs 2.4k words so forgive me. This was really fun to write though!

Yandere! Formaggio

Formaggio tends to loiter around occasionally when he’s not on a hit. Sometimes it’s to try and call over a cat or two to pet other times he’s biding his time relaxing.

Of course that one fateful day he sees you petting a cat that just so happens to be one of his favorites. He immediately mentions this to you while walking up casually.

It might surprise you, and he’ll immediately recognize you’re not from the area let alone the country. But the male can still understand you, and that brings a nice little smirk across his face.

He’ll ask if you need a little help in speaking, of course he cheekily helps. This leads him to doing it often however, and suddenly he’s meeting you purposely.

Formaggio will certainly pop up wherever you’re staying, it’ll likely freak you out which he doesn’t mind. He just casually treats you like you’re someone close and well he wants to get even closer.

Your somewhat limited language skills is something he’ll be quick to use against you. Oh are you trying to say something? It doesn’t sound quiet right. He’ll even say certain things a little too fast for your understanding.

Oh but don’t worry he has this, he can teach you everything you need to know. Private lessons with just you and him at least is what he insinuates. He keeps distracting you with these frightening words, until the point he can grab your helpless self after realizing your differing heights.

Who needs your buddies, when you can have one on one time with a native like him?

Yandere! Illuso

Illuso is personally drawn in by you when you seem to have a bit of trouble getting something through to someone else. It’s more simple amusement at first with you stumbling over your words.

He’ll eventually step out from the mirror world he has, and come right up to you. The temporary fright in your eyes gives him unusual delight even coming from a foreigner.

He somehow knows what you’re meaning to say, and beats around the bush a bit until finally assisting you. After managing to get your proper vocabulary together he does ask for a bit of compensation.

It’s really simple however, all Illuso asks for is some cookies (and maybe a few slips of money). So he sticks to basic conversation.

He’ll keep stalking you after he supposedly “leaves”. He ends up paying a bit more attention when it comes to who you’re familiar with and what language you’re speaking in. Over the phone or in person that doesn’t really matter to him.

Anyone that physically came to the country with you, slowly “vanish” or aren’t around for extended periods of time. As Illuso himself sees himself as the only one to properly fit helping you.

He’ll likely be the cause of you being somehow being left behind on the trip back to your home country. No, you won’t even realize you’re not in a normal area until noticing the lack of people aside from Illuso himself.

Yandere! Pesci

It takes either a lot of courage on his end to approach you or you might’ve bumped into him while sorting things out. Still he feels a bit bad about your situation and is sympathetic for you trying to learn something.

Pesci might even stumble on his own words himself, but he tries to keep his words simple for a new learner to understand. He helps immediately once understanding what your problem is. Lifting something? No problem. Need a ltitle help sorting out directions, sure!

After that he can’t help but linger around a bit, and maybe see where you head off to.

He’ll end up fixating on finding you again, for once he’s not on the end of being unsure. He wants to keep guiding you as best as he can, just to show he can stand on his own.(If and only if to prove himself a bit more to Prosciutto)

Pesci does somehow manage to do this, even if it did take misleading you to thinking you lost something. He can’t but feel his heartbeat flutter when you thank him in Italian.

Eventually he finds himself tailing you many places, while casually dragging away unsavory people with Beach Boy. Even if the person is relatively close to you.

Speaking of you might be caught by Beach Boy yourself, he just can’t bare you leaving so soon. It might be a door handle, or your own luggage. It’s the best option for him, and he swears he’ll figure out on how to keep you around (even if it’s against your will).

Yandere! Prosciutto

He likely pauses at first at whatever you’re saying, an instant recognition that you’re not fluent. The blond weighs his options before finally deciding to help if you seem to be wanting it.

His gaze firmly focuses on you as he seems to lightly translate while getting you to properly figure out what you need. He usually doesn’t go around doing this for just anyone. Perhaps it’s your determination to learn seriously that gets him?

He makes a clean break after the first meeting, fully content with what he had done. It’s not until he sees you with anyone he feels is inefficiently trying to help you on another day that it gets him to do anything.

Prosciutto tends to lean you towards markets and tries to speak about certain food items. Or even wine to an extent, something he sees essential to try while in Italy.

He basically guides you along and fills in some words that you seem to miss at times. Much of the time he listens in approval or gently tsks at mistakes. (Though he won’t berate you like he does Pesci occasionally).

The blond eventually finds himself craving your company more and invites you out to dinner to experience the food culture. Any decline of his offers due to having plans with anyone else he’ll quickly try to take care of.

Behind your back he learns of these people’s identities and likely ages them to be incapable of attending those plans themselves. He might kill them off later if he sees them as too much of a nuisance.

There’s an increased amount of one on one conversation with you and Prosciutto. Even if it’s simple, he compliments your improvement.

The blond might be the only one left that you’re able to come in contact with. He’s suddenly meeting you early in the morning and not bringing you back to the place you’re staying in until evening. At times he purposely keeps you out so late, he tells you to stay with him somewhere until you can return the next day.

By any means if you get panicky and try to call anyone for help that isn’t Prosciutto himself you’re in a lot of trouble. The blond isn’t happy and his tone is simple and firm with you, as he makes it known he doesn’t approve of what you’re doing.

The worst of it all is when he softly informs you’re not leaving on your intended date, he’s oh so tenderly holding your wrists while saying this. While aging you directly with the Grateful Dead. Its only a fair punishment from trying to run off from him.

Yandere! Melone

Melone is one of the few that would’ve had an eye on you right from the start. Likely he’s already infatuated with whatever cute traits you’re exhibiting.

He purposely positions himself in a way that you have to talk to him, (whether it be dropping something or nearly spilling something) and by some chance you do happen to ask him something, he’s thrilled.

He’s extremely impatient with you and your fluidity in Italian, actually he’s quite excited to potentially teach you something. It weirdly satisfies and captures his heart in an indescribable way that he seems jittery for some reason.

Simple chit chat is what he starts with, and he intentionally distracts you in missing a ride or going a certain area by making conversation that might be a bit too quick for you.

The purple haired male takes no time at all to memorize your looks and positive traits (which he immediately goes to since he often has to find a mother for babyface). Though instead of rationalizing everything about you for a stand, he’a thinking of a potential relationship in the making. After all your culture and even language is likely different from his, so every second counts.

He snatches a key or a card to the place you’re staying at and makes a copy of it fairly fast. Although it might be temporary he takes in everything you have to offer. Especially how you leave your bed made or unmade, the sweet scent of washcloths or the like. Though if he finds pictures he makes sure to go through those quickly.

He prefers to go clothes shopping with you, and full well will pay for it if it means him seeing you wearing it. All while guiding you through conversations and the like to make it possible.

It doesn’t take long for Melone to come to the conclusion of separating you from anyone that came with you on your little trip. Even if that’s getting you lost on a trip to another part of Italy, so you can only rely on him is something he ultimately revels in.

More than likely he’ll drug a drink a bit to keep you sedated if you become a bit uncooperative. But he’ll certainly make sure his place is ready for you when you come to eventually.

Yandere! Ghiaccio

Honestly this man gets huffy over Venezia being said as Venice, so you’ll end up sticking out like a sore thumb as he can’t possibly ignore someone so close by to him stumbling that much. Usually he’d just go off and rant about it to Melone or himself but just something about you struggling got to him.

He’ll walk right up to you to try and get whatever you’re trying to say out of you. He recites it perfectly in a huff, perhaps if you look at him with some appreciation he decides to stick around (though he still walks off seemingly unconcerned any further).

Eventually he sees you surprisingly often, and he starts griping about the other people around you. He doesn’t enjoy it in the slightest, even if it’s a low key attempt at friendship. It’ll likely piss him off into an angry state if this said person stays longer than their welcome.

Suddenly he’s butting into certain conversations, and insists on helping with any potential accents around. At times he insults the other person he talks to if they look at you too long.

If Ghiaccio finds himself developing a significant attachment to you, he starts taking out unwanted people left and right. Freezing each and every last one of them without remorse.

There’s days he just sits and helps you become more fluent, others he watches from afar until he feels like moving in.

There will be a day just about all of your stuff is taken from your place, and the next moment you’ll be stolen away. When and where this happens, you’ll have no clue.

Yandere! Risotto Nero

Just a simple question is really all it takes, he’ll help in any way possible. He’ll be open to waiting until you get where you need/or wherever you’re going. There’s likely some small advice to avoid certain places during certain hours as simply as possible.

He probably trails his eyes over you as you walk another direction, Risotto doesn’t have many people approach him willingly with his height and appearance. It’s simply interesting to him, but he doesn’t overthink the interaction at first.

If Risotto does see you again by some means, he doesn’t mind briefly intervening for extra advice to you. If it’s getting around it doesn’t seem like an unusual thing to talk about to outsiders. Or he simply helps in any linguistic troubles.

He spaces out his interactions but he will occasionally folllow you to your current residence with the work of Metallica at play.

More often than not you’ll meet the man more towards the evening and night. He’ll happen to be walking around, and lets himself lose enough to walk with you. Depending how often you go out, he might make it a “habit” to bump into you.

There’s certainly times he finds himself yearning to break into the place you’re staying in. That’s with the certainty no one else is there with you however.

He finds himself helping you out very often the closer he gets to you, something about how you interact with him gives Risotto a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time. Even with the broken Italian, he starts to seek to improve it on a whim.

This is going to happen a lot when you somehow find a place to be alone for more than five minutes. Either the white haired male will stay in the shadows watching you, or he’ll come out to talk to you alone.

Slowly though he finds himself “needing” you more and more, just hearing you afar drives him crazy. He finds the odd reliance on him strangely satisfying.

Places that don’t have very heavy foot traffic at all are places you’ll sometimes finds the male. He insists on them so he can communicate with you much clearer than tourist spots.

His touches are much more sensual than that of a person that would have a platonic friendship. He’ll stand much closer to you than a normal person would as well. Even while helping you learn something, it seems abnormal. Asking about this only lends him to implying it’s a habit he’s trying to break.

There’s a point he starts killing off anyone he sees as an obstacle, especially when he learns of your eventual return to whatever country you came from.

If you try to run, or perhaps become wary of Risotto somehow. He simply cuts the games, draining your iron is enough and making you drop any phone is as simple as willing it. A douse of pain from needles or a scalpel, it’s just a means to an end. Keeping you in his life for good just happens to be one of those things.

#yandere x reader #yandere jjba #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jjba #la squadra di esecuzione #formaggio #illuso #pesci #proscuitto #melone #ghiaccio #risotto nero #jojo x reader #jjba x reader #jjba imagines

488 notes · View notes

epicwatson1 · 3 years

Text

Autism and Socio-Emotional Development

Guidance from ABA Therapy Experts in St. Louis, MO

Human beings across ages, cultures, and geographies typically experience six basic emotions: happiness, fear, anger, sadness, surprise, and disgust. These basic emotions start developing naturally from birth. Over time, based on individual experiences, other more complex emotions, such as trust, pride, guilt, shame, embarrassment, or contempt also develop naturally.

However, children or adults diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) often have difficulty in recognizing, showing, or responding to emotions. Whether it is facial expressions, body language, voice modulation, other emotional cues, individuals on the Autism spectrum may find it tough to understand or express their own emotions or read and react to other people’s emotions.

The ABA therapy professionals at AB Spectrum discuss some of the socio-emotional challenges of ASD, along with potential interventions to help the affected individual thrive.

Common Socio-Emotional Challenges in Children with Autism

Autism is a complex neurological condition experienced by almost 1 in 54 children in the US every year. Experts in this field suggest that certain areas of the brain that link to social and emotional functioning are underdeveloped in individuals on the Autism spectrum.

Here is a closer look at some of the ASD-related socio-emotional challenges:

Understanding or Expressing Emotions: Children with Autism may have trouble in reading, interpreting, and responding appropriately to others’ emotions. It may also be tough for them to feel empathy or imitate emotions. For example, a child who does not return a smile or greeting, or does not show concern when someone is upset is not being deliberately rude. They simply do not understand that it is the expected reaction.

Responding to Facial Expressions: Children with ASD may interpret facial expressions differently than neurotypical children. Instead of reading the entire face, they may get fixated on just one part, such as the mouth or eyes, and may have difficulty in recognizing or translating those expressions into feelings or emotions.

Participating in Joint Attention: Joint attention is about two people focusing on each other, while also actively focusing on the same activity, interest, or object together. It requires the ability to gain, maintain, or shift attention based on verbal or non-verbal cues. This ability may be lacking in children with Autism. For example, there may be no eye contact or eye movement when someone points out an item, or no reaction when someone uses a gesture to greet.

Other Emotional and Social Skills: Children with Autism may tend to struggle while participating in turn-taking activities, differentiating their own feelings from those of others, orienting to new people, or understanding others’ intent or perspectives. Since they are unable to understand, express, or respond to emotional or social cues, they may find it difficult to self-regulate their actions or behave in a ‘socially-accepted’ manner. This may cause frustration, anger, and exhaustion, which manifests itself in the form of repetitive behaviors, resistance to changes in routine, unprompted negative emotions, unusual attachments to certain objects, or social withdrawal.

Socio-Emotional Support for Children with ASD

Parents, teachers, and caregivers can play an important role in boosting the socio-emotional support for children with Autism. Here are some aspects to consider:

Since children with ASD may not initiate any interaction, parents and caregivers should try to engage with the child several times a day. Play peek-a-boo, make tunnels for the child to crawl through, roll a ball, or invent other fun interactions.

Use definitive phrases to ensure the child’s attention before giving them further instructions. Words such as “Listen, please” may help.

Indulge the child in turn-taking games or activities to encourage synchronization of movements and joint attention.

Point out, label and talk about emotions of self, the child, and others who they interact with. Use drawings, pictures, photographs, or other props in the form of emotion cards to showcase facial expressions and help the child understand what each visual represents.

Use pretend-play activities to improve the child’s willingness and enthusiasm to play with peers or other adults.

Base all types of activities on the child’s specific needs and goals, keep the playtimes short, and use plenty of positive reinforcement techniques.

While parental involvement may help in nurturing socio-emotional development in children with Autism, personalized Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA) therapy and other structured interventions are also equally important. While ABA therapy experts can create a customized ABA-based curriculum to treat a wide range of symptoms of ASD, other professionals, such as speech-language pathologists, occupational therapists, psychologists, and clinical social workers can also help in addressing the child’s specific challenges.

About Autism and Behavior Spectrum (AB Spectrum)

Specializing in the Reggio Emilia ABA therapy philosophy, the experts at AB Spectrum provide tailor-made ABA therapy throughout St. Louis Missouri. They focus on Natural Environment Training (NET) and use a “Learning through Play” approach to treat individuals with Autism. Their team of qualified and experienced ABA professionals includes Board Certified Behavior Analysts (BCBA) and Registered Behavior Technicians (RBT) who create flexible, high-impact, customized learning plans based on every child’s specific triggers, learning abilities and treatment goals. In addition to in-home therapy services, they offer clinic-based ABA programs through their Autism treatment centers at Chesterfield and St. Charles, Missouri. At AB Spectrum, the goal is to decrease challenging behaviors, build essential skills, and improve the overall quality of life of children with ASD and their families.

Call 314.648.2687 to learn more about AB Spectrum’s ABA therapy offerings in and around St. Louis, Missouri. For a formal assessment and Autism diagnosis schedule a consultation at one of their Autism treatment centers in Missouri.

#ABA Therapy #Socio-Emotional #Autism

3 notes · View notes

lieutenantcharleslorem · 4 years

Link

It is finished! This is a commission for @datalaur! It was fun to go outside my comfort zone, since I do not actively ship Data/Geordi, but I hope I did it justice.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Data/Geordi La Forge Summary: The Enterprise is transporting some dignitaries, and one of them has the hots for Data. This inspires Geordi to say something he probably should've said a long time ago.

The Junior Minister was a plump woman. Certainly wide in appearance especially when standing next to Counselor Troi, but not unattractively so. Her short navy hair emphasized strength while drawing attention to her soft features and light eyes. And those eyes were so thoroughly and obviously fixed on Data, Geordi thought he could have seen it without his visor.

Having feelings for a dear friend was a strange thing, because part of Geordi wanted to tell Data to go for it; he deserved an alien fling once in a while just as much as anyone else on the crew. But of course, part of him wanted to tell the Junior Minister to take a hike.

“They’ll, uh… They’ll catch you staring, Sir. At least, someone always does me…” said Barclay, sitting down next to Geordi at the bar. He practically winced as he sat, not really knowing if he was welcome.

“No one ever accuses a blind man of staring, Reg.”

“But you are. St-staring, I mean… Aren’t you?”

“I’m having a drink, and looking in the general direction of our guests.”

“Yeah, he’s been staring at them for 20 minutes,” interjected Guinan. “But how you doing, Reg? You want some fruit punch?”

“I-Well, er, yes please.”

Geordi smiled, thinking for a moment that Guinan could make just about anyone feel at home, but his eyes never left Data and the Junior Minister.

While the Junior Minister sat with the officers in the middle of the room, fully immersing herself, the High Minister, a tall man whose dark blue hair was greying on the sides, stood at the end of Ten Forward having a muted conversation with the Captain and Commander Riker. * Ten Forward was fuller than Geordi had ever seen it. The Ministers had 6 other dignitaries with them, 2 lawyers, and 17 trackers which as far as the crew could tell meant some sort of assistant, and all 27 people were mingling jovially with Starfleet officers. Their people had been in the process of joining the Federation for 7 years and according to some gossip from one of the trackers, it was still a few years off.

“Though we’re a warp capable species with a one world government, it’s obvious the Federation disapproves of our bartering system,” one of the trackers had mentioned to Ensign Velor that morning. The ensign was meant to be leading each of them to their quarters; Geordi just happened to overhear the chatting.

The Enterprise was transporting them to some sort of negotiation and cultural exchange. No one really knew the details.

“Care to join us?” asked the Junior Minister, looking straight at Geordi. Her voice carried over the crowd with ease, without her yelling or disrupting the other sounds of the bar. It was a little unsettling, in fact.

“I told you,” Barclay whispered.

“Mmm, forgive me if I’m resistant to trust your assessment of social situations,” said Geordi lowly, while shooting the Junior Minister an apologetic smile. Barclay sank a little further inside himself. Geordi took a swig of his drink, left it on the bar, and stood to approach the group.

Halfway there, he said, “Come on, Reg.”

Barclay stood suddenly, smoothing his uniform. He started to follow but Guinan whispered, “Reggie, take your drink with you,” and pushed his glass toward him. He raised an eyebrow and she added, “Something to do with your hands.” He nodded and took his drink with him.

“Geordi La Forge is the Chief Engineer, of the Enterprise,” Data introduced him, adding, “He’s also my best friend.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. La Forge.”

“Right, I just wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to leer. I was just, thinking about something. It’s an honor, Junior Minister.”

“Oh please, like I told your friend, call me Tuviece. And who is this?” asked the Junior Minister looking squarely at Reg. He tried and failed to look her in the eye.

“Is there something wrong with my face?” she asked. Counselor Troi opened her mouth to cut in, but Data beat her too it.

“Lieutenant Barclay interacts somewhat differently than other humans. He means no disrespect, just as I would not were I to do something considered socially unacceptable by your people.”

Tuviece smiled, eying Data. “You care very much your crewmates, hm?”

“I… They are my family,” said Data, not wishing to bog Tuviece down with a more technical explanation of how an android forms attachments.

Geordi and the Junior Minister melted. Deanna would have too, normally the first to call Data cute, but she had to take a subtle step back from the group instead, overwhelmed by Tuviece and Geordi’s internalized reactions. She blinked and fanned herself with her hand. She made eye contact momentarily with Barclay, and his eyes widened as he tried to figure out what the look on her face meant.

“That must be magical to be so close with your coworkers.”

“Magical?” asked Data, “I do not understand.”

“She just means good, Data,” said Geordi, “Very good.”

“Yes, it is a common expression in my language. When something feels so special it is as if it was caused by an impossible magical force.”

“O-ours too. Our language I mean,” said Barclay.

“Ah, so you can speak!” replied Tuviece.

“Do you have many relationships you would consider magical?” asked Data.

“Mm, no I suppose not… But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like one.”

The Junior Minister was a very passionate woman, and with her feelings, Geordi’s responses, and Barclay’s embarrassment, Deanna could only handle being in the conversation so long.

“I hate to run, but I think I’ll go check on the captain if you don’t mind,” said Troi.

“Oh, of course, dear,” she grabbed Deanna’s hand suddenly. “If I don’t see you again this evening, have a pleasant night. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Of course, a pleasure,” the counselor replied, moving away.

“Now, boys!” continued the Junior Minister, “Tell me what made each of you decide you wanted to serve on a starship?”

The night wound down gradually. The High Minister had already gone to bed, as had Reg, both admitting they needed some time alone. No one knew when the captain had disappeared, only that he was probably the first. The Junior Minister was afraid she wouldn’t be able to remember where her quarters were, so Data had offered to guide her.

“Such a gentleman,” she had called him.

Riker, Troi, La Forge, and Worf meandered slowly down the hall, heading for their own beds.

“Geordi, I’m sensing some discomfort,” said Troi.

“Hm? Oh, you know… big parties.”

“Oh, come on, you’re the life of the party,” said Riker with a smirk.

“I understand the feeling,” said Worf. “I too find parties exhausting.”

“Don’t Klingons have rather wild parties?” asked Riker.

“Our celebrations can be a bit much for humans, but the requirements of the socializing are different. Less pretense.”

“Sure,” said Troi, trying not to sound sarcastic.

“Though I will admit, even Klingon social events are sometimes tiring and disconcerting for me.”

“Well, everyone needs their space,” said Troi, “but that wasn’t the type of discomfort Geordi was feeling, was it Geordi?”

They stopped as they reached Geordi’s quarters. They formed a casual circle, Geordi’s back to his door. “… I didn’t ask for a group therapy session,” he said.

“If you need to share your feelings, Commander, we will listen without judgment,” said Worf.

The three of them turned their heads to look at Worf.

“What?” he asked. “Why do you stare?”

No one answered, and Worf huffed.

Troi cleared her throat, “I’m only worried that you’re sabotaging yourself again, Geordi.”

“Again?” La Forge replied incredulously. When he looked at the others, he realized they agreed with that assessment, and was suddenly quite self-conscious. “What is it exactly you think I’m doing on purpose?”

“Not on purpose,” said Riker, “But subconscious. Because of… well, hmm…”

“Out of fear,” finished Troi. “But there’s nothing to be afraid of—”

“Deanna—” interrupted Geordi, but Troi didn’t stop.

“I don’t think honesty will hurt you in this situation.”

“Yes,” Worf cut in, “do not dishonor yourself with lies.”

Geordi raised an eyebrow at Worf, wondering why he cared about this.

“It’s not fear… It’s… I just don’t know if it’s fair to put that kind of pressure on him.”

“I don’t know, I think our android friend is pretty good at taking things in stride,” said Riker with a smirk.

“I just don’t know if he is in a position to be made to make those kinds of decisions.”

“Well what if something happened with the Junior Minister?” asked Troi.

“That’s different… She’ll be gone soon enough. There’s no long-term decision to be made.”

“Listen, I know Data is a little awkward when it comes to dating but—”

“Is that what we’re talking about?” asked Worf. “Commander La Forge having a romantic interest in Data?”

“Oh Worf…” said Deanna. Riker started laughing. La Forge delicately lifted his visor from his face so that he could rub the bridge of his nose.

Replacing it, he said, “It’s like a teenager. They think they know what they want. And when it comes down to it, you can’t stop them from having their own experiences, but… but you can’t expect…”

Geordi drifted off and there was a pause as they all let his point sink in.

“La Forge, if I may?” asked Worf.

“What is it, Worf?” asked Geordi, trying not to sound exasperated.

“Now that I understand the premise of this conversation, am I to infer that you are insinuating Commander Data should be deemed incapable of giving consent?”

“I… well not in so many words—”

“Because from what I know of Data, though he wishes to be a part of humanity, he also values his autonomy, and I believe he would be offended by a denial of his right to make his own choices.”

Worf’s surprisingly aware statement rattled around in Geordi’s head the rest of the evening. He was right. It was up to Data to make his own choices. That didn’t mean Geordi would automatically get whatever he wanted, but not everything was about him.

Data helped him with some maintenance in engineering for most of the next day. Reg was in and out providing assistance. The Junior Minister came around to observe. Normally La Forge didn’t appreciate outsiders sticking their nose in his warp core, but the maintenance wasn’t urgent, and Tuviece asked questions with a friendly curiosity that showed she didn’t mean to get in the way. Plus since Data didn’t mentally tire, or struggle with how to answer a technical question, he was happy to entertain all of her inquiries. Sometimes Reg would translate to layman’s terms when he got the courage.

Around midday Tuviece asked if they ever took breaks.

“Ha! Sometimes. But oh so rarely,” Geordi had joked from his place on the floor.

“ I was so hoping to have a spot of lunch with you…” She said it like she meant all three of them, but she looked at Data out of the corner of her eye. Geordi figured he shouldn’t third-wheel, so he made up some excuse about not leaving this panel open.

Data immediately began explaining that he neither requires breaks or food, and Geordi could almost hear the disappointment on her breath.

“Well then… What about you, Reginald? Care to join me?”

“Me?” he asked.

“Of course. I promise you don’t have to look me in the eye if you don’t want to.”

Reg let out a half laugh, and led her back to Ten Forward.

“Data, you eat sometimes,” La Forge said once they were gone.

“Yes, but I do not need to.”

“…Buddy, are you blowing off Tuviece on purpose?”

“Blowing her off? You mean to avoid? No. Should I have gone to lunch with her?”

“Only if you wanted to.”

“I… I have no specific desire. No desire to stay or to go.”

“Oh.”

Geordi knew he should talk to him, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to focus on work afterward.

Reg and Tuviece returned after about an hour. It wasn’t their fault, but by the end of the day Geordi was sick of them both. Or maybe it was of Data being oblivious.

When Tuviece asked if someone might walk her back to her quarters, Data volunteered Reg for the job. Geordi raised his brows and mouthed why at him but Data only looked confused in return.

After Reg and Tuviece had disappeared, Data and Geordi chatted idly as they made their way toward Data’s quarters.

“Data, what’s the matter? You don’t like the Junior Minister?”

“I like her very much. She is fascinating.”

“Then why’d you send Reg to walk her back to her quarters?”

“His quarters are closer to hers.”

“Sure, I guess that’s logical.”

“Have I turned down another invitation, Geordi?”

“Well… Yeah, actually.”

“But why would she prefer me to walk with her?”

“Data…” whispered Geordi as they came up to the door to Data’s quarters. He turned and leaned against the bulkhead, crossing his arms and pulling up a leg to press his foot into the metal behind him.

Data came close, anticipating Geordi continuing to speak quietly.

“She likes you, Data.”

“And I like her too, but—”

“No, she’s interested in you. Romantically.”

“Oh.”

“And if you don’t want to engage with her in that way, that’s obviously up to you. But I just thought you should know so that you have the choice.”

“Oh,” Data repeated.

“I mean, because I have feelings for you too,” Geordi blurted out before he could lose his nerve. “And you don’t have to acknowledge that either. But I just wanted you to know all your options, because if you don’t know—”

“Do you believe I have offended the Junior Minister?”

“Oh… I… maybe a little, but not detrimentally so.”

“So you do not think that I should interact with her on a romantic level in order to maintain diplomacy?”

“Oh, no, Data she’s not going to be angry if you don’t like her. Only go for it if you want to. It’s about what you want.”

“I see no reason to. I’ve already attempted to have a relationship once and it failed.”

“You—Data, that was like three days.”

“It was nine.”

“Okay, but Data, that’s not how it works. Relationships aren’t pass or fail, and you’re supposed to keep trying until you find the right fit for you. I mean, that is, unless you don’t want to.”

“Would explaining this to me require lying about having these types of feelings for me?”

“Lying? I wasn’t lying.”

“Then why would you choose now to tell me?”

“When do you think the best time would have been?”

“Whenever it first became true, which I’m assuming wasn’t during this conversation.”

“Well… that’s easier said than done, Data.”

“Why, if you have these feelings, would you push me toward someone else?”

“I’m not pushing you. I just wanted you to know the opportunities. I just want you to be—” he almost said happy but stopped himself. “Satisfied,” he finished, “I want you to have what you want.”

“I like challenges, but most humans I have observed seem to enjoy relationships more when they are less challenging. A familiarity seems to help in anticipating and preventing challenges. I would also personally prefer a relationship that lasted a significant amount of time, as I haven’t experienced that yet. And since I don’t have a sex drive, there’s nothing pulling me toward the momentary interlude I would have with Junior Minister Tuviece.”

“I see.”

Geordi was so resistant to getting his hopes up that he almost looked sad, and Data put a hand on his shoulder with a look of concern.

“So, you are the obvious choice,” said Data.

“Excuse me?”

“You are the obvious choice for me to be in a relationship with.”

“But you can choose no one. You don’t have to be in a relationship.”

“I’m… unsure why you keep repeating the same point. But you have presented me with an opportunity and I am taking it. Unless you are taking back what you have said.”

“No! No, I’m not taking it back.”

“Excellent,” Data said moving forward and kissing Geordi with little grace.

“Data, Data,” mumbled Geordi, “You’re pressing on my visor.”

“I apologize.”

“Maybe we should go inside.”

“Your quarters are more comfortable,” said Data.

“You’re incapable of physical discomfort.”

“I would like you to be comfortable.”

“If you insist,” Geordi said pushing off the bulkhead and starting off for his own quarters.

“Geordi?” Data asked.

“Yes, Data?”

“There are several things that, due to my lack of time in relationships, I have yet to experience… that I would like to.”

“Let’s… let’s wait until we get into my quarters, and then… you can tell me all about them.”

As this particular mission came to an end the captain, his chief engineer, his first officer, his second officer, and… Reg, walked with their multitude of guests to transporter room 1.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, High Minister Bieve,” said the Captain Picard.

“The feeling is mutual, Captain,” he replied as he joined several others on the transporter pad. One of the trackers blew Riker a kiss, and then the group was gone.

The Junior Minister was the last to leave, and as she turned back toward them on the transporter pad, she told them how much she’d enjoyed spending time with all of them.

Just before she disappeared, she said, “I’ll write to you, Reginald,” and winked.

Reg blushed.

“Barclay!” said Geordi once she was gone, “Did you—?”

“It’s none of your business,” he replied without missing a beat.

“Reg!” Geordi shouted, clapping him on the back.

Speaking for the first time, Riker said, “I guess everybody got laid this weekend.”

The Captain pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, but admittedly, he did it with a smile.

#star trek #tng #the next generation #data/geordi #daforge

41 notes · View notes