#does anybody want to teach me how sex works

[vaperarmand]

fic is almost done and by almost done i mean i still have to write at least 4 pretty major scenes and transitions but i don’t hate it anymore. this is kind of evil though because every time i don’t hate a fic i just want to blast it to publish. like wym i have to work on it more 😐

[snoowpee]

all mine - s.jy

Pairing ⇾ bestfriend!jake x bestfriend!reader

Genre ⇾ smut, a little bit of fluff

Warnings ⇾ unprotected sex (you know you don’t want kids!), making out, slight food play, marking, ass slapping, pussy slapping, name calling (whore), dirty talking, fingering, mentions of nudes & masturbation, oral (f. receiving), face riding, filming, hair pulling, jerking off, riding, possessiveness, choking. I might’ve missed something but that’s the gist of it, enjoy!

Summary ⇾ being best friends with jake is all fun and games until you get jealous with how sociable he is with other girls.

Word count ⇾ 4.4k words

Playlist ⇾ Summer Walker (feat. Jhené Aiko) - I’ll Kill You.

Science class is boring the hell out of you. You watched the clock on the wall, counting down how many more minutes of suffering you had to endure. Great! fifteen minutes left. I’m going to lose it, if this class doesn’t end soon. You grumbled. Putting your head down on top of your folded arms.

You turned to face the male seated beside you, when you felt a hand grazed the left side of your waist. “The work isn’t gonna do itself,” Jake quietly whispered, not wanting to disrupt the class, he smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. You discreetly flipped him off. Jake bit his lips to prevent a grin, but failed to do so.

“Do you have soccer practice afterschool?” You asked, changing the subject to suppress the rising thoughts in your head.

“Yeah,” Jake nodded.

“Bummer, I was gonna ask you to re-teach me the whole lesson today,” Jake knew you meant a whole different thing by the way your eyes lit up.

“I can swing by your place after practice, how does that sound, princess?” Jake whispered, mouthing the pet-name, careful even in his hushed tone to not let anybody hear. 

“Sounds good to me, Jakey,” you shrugged. He scoffed at the nickname while your mouth stretched into a smile.

The clock ticked a few more times until the bell finally rang, indicating that class was over. You and Jake both packed your stuff, heading in different directions after. Just have to get through English class. You grumbled again, wanting school to end, so that you could lay down on your bed.

English class wasn’t so bad for you, knowing that you had friends to keep you entertained during it. The whole day, you assumed that time seemed to pass by very slowly, but to your surprise, it flew during English class.

After bidding goodbye to your friends, you made your way to the school’s field, where Jake was at. As soon as you realized that the weather was pretty nice, you decided to watch his practice for a bit.

When you reached the field you saw Jake and his friends talking to a group of girls. You recognized that a few of the girls are from your History class, and some are friends with your friends.

As you sat on the bleachers, Heeseung and Sunghoon noticed your presence, excusing themselves politely before taking long strides towards you.

“We felt bad seeing you all by yourself, so we wanted to keep you company while Jake’s getting his cock wet.” Sunghoon snickered at Heeseung’s remark.

“Man, you gotta see how many of the girls are asking for his socials. Man’s famous,” Sunghoon said as he took a seat beside you, Heeseung following ensuite.

“It must be so tough to be friends with a whore,” Heeseung feigned sympathy. Before you could respond with a witty remark, a familiar voice spoke.

“You better not be hitting on my best friend!” Jake shouted from where he was standing. Heeseung and Sunghoon bursted out in fits of laughter.

“No way, he’s still calling you his best friend?” Sunghoon teased. “Damn, I wouldn’t be calling you that if I were him, especially after blowing your back,” Sunghoon gave you a knowing look, you shrugged.

“I don’t know, Park. I don’t kiss and tell,” you teasingly smiled at him.

“You two need to get this shit sorted out…” Heeseung butted in. “…cause from what I’m seeing, you two are basically best friends who are lowkey fucking each other, but sometimes you two act like you’re in a relationship, and it’s madly confusing. I don’t mean to pry, but trust me it’s that obvious.”

“You should tell your buddy,” you shrugged again. “I know what I want. I’m not too sure about your teammate, though.” 

All three of you turned to look at the soccer coach, your talk being interrupted by hearing a whistle blow.

“I’m pretty sure he’ll figure it out…” Sunghoon stood up. “…or maybe he did already.” Sunghoon said before he and Heeseung both waved goodbye to you.

You watched as the whole soccer team gathered, in the form of a circle, to debrief the events that took place from their last game, which didn’t take too long. 

When the coach ordered the team to warm up, your mouth watered at the sight of Jake’s hot, focused expression, eyes blazing with competitiveness. 

Afterwards, the team was split into two groups, one group wore a green mesh pinnie while the other wore a blue mesh pinnie. You heard the whistle blow again, signaling the start of a practice game. It took awhile for the game to end but you couldn’t deny that it was a little bit entertaining.

Once boredom overcame your senses, you fished out your phone, texting Jake to let him know that you were leaving already. You made your way to where your car was parked and drove home, which didn’t take too long. 

When you arrived at your place, you changed into comfy clothes, before deciding to take a nap.

You woke up to a blanket of darkness surrounding you. You reached for your phone to check the time, seven thirty, Jake was surely done with his practice by now. You unlocked your phone to entertain you while you wait for Jake to arrive.

You were scrolling through Twitter when you heard your bedroom door swing open, “Hey princess…” Jake’s voice was husky, he sighed audibly. “…practice was rough today.”

You paused, Jake had his back facing you, his upper body naked, with a towel around his waist, his black hair a little wet, probably from the shower he just had. He smelt just like you. 

“Where were you?” you had to know if he took a shower at your place again. Jake turned around to face you, whilst your eyes wandered to admire his broad shoulders and his toned abdomen, all displayed in front of you. “I mean, when did you get here?” You cleared your throat.

“Like what you see?” Jake bit his lips while smiling. 

You threw your phone to the side and walked up to him, you grabbed one of his shirts from his duffel bag, shoving the shirt to his face. Jake chuckled whilst leaning in to wrap his arms around your waist, burying his face where your shoulder and neck meet. You squirm under his touch, feeling his wet bare skin against the fabric of your shirt, his breath hits the skin of your neck and you feel him pressed a kiss on the said area. 

“I got here earlier, I didn’t want to wake you up, though. You looked so pretty sleeping,” Jake’s hands traveled down to grope your ass, he playfully slapped it, rubbing it in a circular motion after. “Did you get a new body wash?” Jake kissed your jaw, you hummed in response. “I like it, it smells good.”

“Yeah? You better not finish the whole bottle before I try it,” you teased, kissing Jake’s damp hair while he giggled.

“I’ll try not to,” Jake sighed, inhaling your scent after, your hands busy playing with his wet hair.

“I want ice cream,” you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Get dressed, Jakey,” you pinched one of his cheeks.

“What the princess wants, the princess gets,” Jake saluted, pulling himself away from you to grab his clothes. He gave you a look whilst you stood there.

“What?” you asked confused.

“Are you gonna watch me get dressed?” Jake asked.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you shrugged.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, princess,” He let out a breath, you snickered.

“I’m just kidding,” you sickeningly smiled at him as he rolled his eyes.

Before Jake can remove the towel around his waist, you turn around and lay on your stomach, busying yourself with your phone. After a while, you felt Jake slapped your ass, catching you off guard.

“Let’s go,” Jake hooked his arms around your waist, lifting you up with ease.

“I’m driving!” You said attempting to reach for Jake’s car keys, his arms around your waist preventing you to do so.

“No, you’re not,” Jake pecked your lips as you pouted, glaring at him. “C’mon, let’s go,” Jake intertwined his hand with yours, leading the way to his car. You tried getting in the driver’s seat before Jake, but he locked the car before you could open the door. “What a stubborn girl,” Jake shakes his head, smiling at your pissed expression.

“Please…” you drag out the word, putting your hands together, while you exaggerate your pout. Jake thought you were the cutest.

“Tough luck, princess,” Jake opened the car door to the passenger seat, motioning for you to get in. You sighed in defeat, rolling your eyes at a smiling Jake before you got in. 

Jake got in the car, turning on the engine right after, he drove to the direction of the nearest fast food chain that serves ice cream, pulling up to the drive thru to order for you. 

“Can I get one regular oreo ice cream? Yeah, thanks,” Jake drove ahead, the car halting a few moments after. 

Jake rolled down the car window, tapping his card on the machine, he rolled up the window handing you the cup of ice cream.

“Thanks Jakey!” You beamed upon eating a scoop.

“Nah babe, I want a kiss,” he smiled playfully as he pulled out of the parking lot, his right hand fell on top of your left thigh. You leaned in, pecking his lips.

“Satisfied?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Nah,” he steered the steering wheel with one hand, the car stopped at a stoplight and he looked at you with a teasing smile. He bit his lip trying to suppress it, but failed. You wanted to slap the eat-shiting grin he had on, losing it when his tongue darted out to lick the corners of his lips.

“You don’t wanna get on my nerves right now, Sim.” He lightly laughed at your ‘threat’ while you busy yourself with scooping the ice cream, feeding it to him after.

“Where do you wanna go, princess?” Jake asked, squeezing your thigh, eyes focused on the road.

You ponder for a while, “Any ideas?” you asked him.

“We can stop by the park? Go straight to your place, maybe watch a movie? If you’re up to drink we can go get liquor? I don’t really know, princess. It depends on what you want to do.” Jake’s eyes go back and forth between you and the road.

“Let’s stop by the supermarket,” you mumbled, mouth full of ice cream. Jake nodded, driving to the direction of the nearest supermarket. 

Jake spots a vacant spot, parking the car, when you’ve reached the parking lot of your destination.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, climbing onto Jake’s lap. “What are you up to, princess,” Jake chuckled as you straddled him.

“Nothing,” you mischievously smiled at him. 

You pressed a kiss on his lips, pulling away before he gets the chance to explore your mouth with his tongue. “Not so fast, Jakey,” you proceed to eat the remaining ice cream.

“You’re such a tease…” Jake cheekily smiled, “…Do you really want to go to the supermarket?” Jake’s hand caressed your skin underneath your shirt. You shivered due to his cold fingers. Jake found your reaction amusing.

“Well you weren’t gonna pullover when I told you to! What was I supposed to say?!” You reasoned out, Jake snickered. “Can I please drive?” you begged.

“Why do you wanna drive so bad?” Jake rests his head against your shoulder.

“There’s no special reason, I just wanna drive,” you played with his fluffy hair.

“Sorry, princess. Answers still no,” Jake said, you pulled on his hair so you could look him in the eye.

“I will ride your face, if you let me drive,” you deadpanned.

“Tempting, but nope,” Jake pecked your lips, your tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. Pulling away from him to scoop the ice cream, feeding it to him. Once he had the ice cream in his mouth, you kissed him again, with your tongue exploring his mouth. You can taste the sweetness of the oreo ice cream against his tongue, as the mixture of his drool and the melted ice cream dribbles out from the corners of his mouth.

You placed the cup on the cupholder, your arms wrapping around Jake’s neck to pull him closer, while Jake does the same but with your waist. You both fight for dominance for a while, Jake losing as you grind down on him. You pulled away to lick the dripping drool on the corners of his mouth, Jake groaned as you pressed down on him harder.

“You’re so messy, princess,” Jake bites your collarbones.

“That’s how you like it,” you whispered into his ear.

“Alright, you’re driving,” Jake finally caved in, he sighed as you squealed. “But no over-speeding!” Jake pinched your cheeks.

“I don’t do that!” you defended yourself. Jake gave you a look. “That was one time, Jakey!”

“Sure, princess. What about the other day? Or the day after we went to that party? Last week? When you picked me and Jay up from the mall? Or when you drove us to school that one day?”

“You’re way hotter when you have your mouth shut, you know?” you made a face, Jake looked at you unamused. “Ok, you made your point. I won’t do it again!” you rolled your eyes. “Now, move!” Jake dramatically sighed again.

After Jake moved to the passenger seat, you drove all the way back to your place. 

It was safe to say that you made it alive, miraculously without speeding.

You turned on the tv in your bedroom, sitting down on Jake’s lap, while he lay down with his head against the headboard while he had his right arm wrapped around you. As you try to pick a movie to watch, Jake was busy texting his friends, lightly laughing from time to time.

“Hey, man,” Jake laughed. Is he serious right now? you glanced at him but he was too busy to even notice. 

“Yeah, I heard. No? Wait, what? You’re kidding?” Jake continued talking through the phone. 

You can hear Sunghoon’s faint voice, explaining stuff you didn’t care about. You stood up and peered at Jake. He didn’t even notice. Let’s see if he could keep this up. With that, you discarded your shorts, leaving your purple laced panties on, one of Jake’s favorites.

You climbed back on top of him but instead of sitting yourself on top of his lap, you moved up so that you’re sitting on his chest, making sure to arch your back so he got a view of your ass. This time Jake did notice you, his hand caressing and groping your ass despite talking to Sunghoon. You jut out your ass so that it’s all up in his face, shuffling around to find a more comfortable position. 

Once you found yourself comfortable, you had your head rested on your folded arms on top of Jake’s abdomen, your legs folded on either side of Jake, with your ass way too close to Jake’s face much to his liking. 

You pull on the strings of his sweats, continuing to look for a movie to watch. You felt Jake pull you closer by your waist, pressing a kiss on your inner thigh, you groaned as he bit your asscheek after.

Jake bit his lower lip, trying to focus on what Sunghoon was saying. He was well aware that you're pining for his attention but he couldn’t hang up on Sunghoon since he was saying such interesting things. 

Jake pushed his thumb between your clothed folds, feeling the wet patch on the fabric grow, you whimpered in response to his touches. You moaned when he pulled your panties upwards, creating a friction in between your folds, stimulating your clit with the fabric rubbing against it. Jake does this for a while, leaving some bites on the flesh of your ass as he did so. At his actions, you let out soft moans loud enough for him to hear, but not loud enough for Sunghoon to hear on the other line.

You audibly gasped when you felt Jake rubbed your clothed clit, jerking your ass back to feel more of him. You hear him chuckle, not sure if it’s because of what Sunghoon said or your reaction. Jake pinches your clit, pulling it and twisting, leaving you breathless. He slaps your ass, gripping the soft flesh to spread your ass apart.

“Hey, man, listen. As much as I love hearing how Jay got himself into some deep shit, I have a really important task at hand,” Jake pushed your panties to the side, he sighed when he saw a glob of arousal drip down from your hole to your folds.

“Yeah, is your best friend being needy right now?” You hear Sunghoon say on the other line.

“Fuck off,” Jake simply said, you heard Sunghoon laughed before a beeping noise indicated that the call was over. 

Jake threw his phone to the side, he pulled you impossibly closer to him before speaking. “I can’t even talk to my friends without you feeling the need to pull shit like this?” Jake slapped your cunt, a fresh glob of arousal dripping out of your hole from the action. “My cute little whore, running around impatiently wanting to get fucked,” you mewled when Jake shoved his thumb in and out of you. “Don’t I fuck you enough? You want me to always fill you up with my dick?”

“I don’t know, Jakey. You tell me…” you breathlessly spoke, “…Do you always have to look for new bitches to fuck? Knowing you jerk off to the thoughts of me wrapped around you? Knowing how good my mouth feels wrapped around you?” you hear Jake groan, his cock stirring up in his sweats, visibly getting hard.

“Fuck,” Jake bit his lips, replacing his thumb with his index and middle finger.

“You always have to call me late at night, when you’re so horny and desperate to get off? When, you have to send me pictures of your dick, begging me to do something about it? All those videos of you jerking off and putting on a show for me?” You reached for Jake’s wrist, pulling his fingers out of you. 

You leaned all the way back until you felt Jake’s plushed lips against your folds. You moaned when Jake licked your folds, tongue dipping in your hole a couple of times before licking your clit after. 

“You don’t think I know how you moan my name when you’re all alone humping your pillow? Or how desperate you sound when you whine out my name when you touch yourself?” you grind down on Jake’s tongue, his nose hitting your clit.

“You’re so hot, princess,” Jake said against your cunt, words muffled, he hugged your waist, shoving his lips against your folds.

“Right there, Jakey,” you moaned, toes curling with how good Jake was eating you out. You turn your head to the side, seeing how Jake was holding onto your waist and how he had his head buried in between your legs. The sight looked so hot. You reached for your phone, clicking on the record button before zooming in on the mirror showing the view of Jake hugging your waist while he ate you out. “Say hi, Jakey,” you bit your lips when Jake slapped your ass.

You fully sat up to sit directly on Jake’s face, both of his hands gripping your waist, you reached back to gripped his fluffy hair, pushing him closer to your cunt. You point the camera down, showing Jake under you, licking your folds and sucking on your cunt.

“You’re doing so good for me, Jakey…” the grip around your waist tightened. 

Your moans got louder when you neared your climax, seeing white as you spilled all over Jake. He helped you draw out your climax by licking you clean, pulling off of him when oversensitivity reached your senses.

Jake looked like he came out of your biggest wet dream, his swollen lips and chin shiny from the mix of his saliva and your release, fluffy hair all messy.

“Take your clothes off for me,” you film Jake following your orders without protest. He took off his shirt, throwing it to the side, he did the same with his sweats and underwear, leaving himself bare. “Show me how you touch yourself, Jakey.”

Jake looked at you then at the camera, he gripped the base of his cock, slit leaking beads of precum. He spat on the tip of his cock, whining when he stroked himself, smearing his saliva all over to lubricate his cock.

“Who do you think of when you’re all alone, Jakey?” You asked, Jake bucked his hips up when his hand gained speed, he moaned out your name loudly.

“F-Fuck…” Jake noisily whined, “Y-You’re… you’re a-all I think about!” Jake struggled to speak coherently, his hand moving impossibly fast. 

It didn’t take too long for Jake to cum, already worked up after eating you out. As he reaches the peak of his climax, white ropes of his cum shoot out of his tip, creating a mess everywhere. Jake gasped for air, trying to regulate his breathing. You stopped filming, dropping your phone to your side to climb onto Jake’s lap. He hugged your waist again, leaning his head back on the head board, closing his eyes.

Jake hissed when you bit the skin of his neck, leaving a bite mark that will surely bruise. Satisfied with what you’ve done, you continued leaving bite marks on the expanse of his neck, playing with his hair as you did so.

“What’s gotten into you?” Jake asked, exhaustion evident on his face.

You take a hold of his cock, pushing your panties to the side to line it up with your hole before sinking down, you and Jake moaning in unison at the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his dick. You let yourself adjust to Jake’s size before you moved up and down on his lap at a fast pace. Skin slapping, lewd moans, and crude language echoed throughout your bedroom.

“Nothing, I’m just claiming what’s mine,” you said, stuttering out each word. Jake’s hands rolled your shirt up, squeezing both of your tits. 

You moaned out his name when his thumbs played with your sensitive nipples. You pushed his hands away to roughly kiss him, in response Jake let you explore the cavern of his mouth with your tongue. You barely pulled away, letting him breathe for a moment, impatiently pressing your lips together to roughly make out.

Jake’s lips were swollen and shiny once you pulled away from him, leaving you satisfied. Jake gasped when he felt your right hand crept up to his neck, your fingers wrapped around his throat.

“Fuck…” Jake bit his lips, moaning out your name when you tighten your grip around his neck.

“Who do you belong to, Jakey?” you bounced on him faster, chasing your high.

“Y-You,” Jake felt lightheaded with his peak nearing. “‘m a-all yours.”

“That’s right. You’re all mine, understood?” Jake attempted to nod, your grip on him not loosening.

“Y-Yes! A-All yours,” Jake stuttered out.

Jake rubbed your clit at a speed, the knot in your stomach finally snapping as you creamed on Jake’s cock, triggering his orgasm not long after.

Jake leaned his back on the headboard behind him, catching his breath. You hugged Jake, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the exhaustion creep in. You almost drifted into sleep with the way Jake was playing with your hair, his other arm loosely wrapped around you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Jake spoke, breaking the silence. He carried you to your bathroom, setting you down on your toilet to let you pee, he cleaned himself up while waiting for you to finish, lending you a hand when you needed anything.

After changing into new sets of clothes, you lie down in bed with Jake to cuddle. He hissed when you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him close.

“What?” you asked Jake, confused, he didn’t answer, opting to point at his neck. You pulled down Jake’s hoodie to inspect his neck, splotches of marks adorned his neck, your handprint evident, bruising the skin. “Oh my god!” you sat up at the same time your eyes widened, Jake chuckled at your reaction. “Are you ok? I’m so sorry! I got carried away!”

“You’re good, princess,” Jake hugged you again, pulling you close as he kissed the skin of your neck. Your fingers find their way to play with his hair again. “Oh, I meant it by the way…” He rested his head on your shoulder, looking up to hold your gaze. “…I’m all yours.” Jake grinned.

“I know,” you said sporting the same expression the boy had in front of you. “You’re all mine.”

“I’m sorry for making you jealous, princess.” Jake pouted. “But I can’t guarantee that it won't happen again,” Jake teased, pointing at his neck.

“You little shit!” you flicked Jake’s neck in annoyance, making him scream at the sudden pain.

“I’m sorry! I was just kidding!” Jake hugged you tighter.

You woke up the next morning with a note from Jake, apologizing that he had to leave for practice early in the morning, not forgetting to promise a hang out with his girl after. It was safe to say that you went back to bed with a smile on your face after reading the note.

Jake felt bad for leaving you, but it was either that or deathly exercises assigned to him by his coach. 

When he arrived at the change room, he spotted his friends by their designated lockers. Jay already changed into his jersey, Heeseung groggily changing, and Sunghoon stretching.

“About time you arrived,” Sunghoon said. “We were just talking about Jay’s dumbass. What took you so long to get here?”

“I had to stop by my place to get my shit,” Jake simply said. “Hey man,” Jake dapped Jay up. “So, what did your dad say?”

“I don’t know, man. He said he’s gonna get my car fixed, but guess what? This dude’s gonna intern at his company,” Jay pointed to himself, looking unamused.

“Yikes, you poor soul.” Jake said, pulling up his hoodie to change his clothes. His friends collectively gasped.

“Dude, you’re not gonna go out looking like that,” Sunghoon said, shocked.

“Yeah, no. Coach is gonna think you got into a fight or something,” Heeseung said mouth agape.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Jay pointed at Jake’s neck.

“Oh, this?” Jake arrogantly smirked. “My girlfriend happened.”

© snoowpee | DO NOT COPY OR REPOST.

[hanasnx]

" GIVE ME THE SWEETEST GOODBYE THAT I EVER DID RECEIVE " — peter parker.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: takes place during the events of the marvel's spider-man 2 game. WARNINGS: fem reader | established relationship | morning sex mention | mild exhibitionism | sex against a window.

"You forgot your lunch again." are words PETER PARKER has heard too many times. He spins in place, disengaging from his work to face you, his girlfriend, who so graciously conquered his paper bagged lunch and retrieved it for him like his knight-in-shining-armor.

"Knew I was forgetting something." he murmurs, receiving the sack from you and stealing a greeting kiss from your lips in the same motion.

"Yeah, you left in kind of a hurry this morning." you reply with an impish grin tugging at your lips, leaning your palms at the edge of his desk. You meet his eyes over your shoulder, noting his knowing smile.

He approaches you from behind, lowering his voice to speak in your ear. "Well, that's because someone wouldn't let me." The lunch crinkles as he sets it down, and he hesitates to return to his work when you're here clearly vying for some attention, bringing up this morning of all things...

"Oh, right, because it was all me." you retort sarcastically, breaking exchange of a look to spy on his monitor. You've got a good head on your shoulders, but the stuff Pete does has you at a loss. It's gibberish written across his screen that he no doubt understands and could teach a class on. The thought of his competency drifts your mind elsewhere to the more alluring traits he took on before he left for work. How curious his hands were traversing your body after waking up next to you, kneading your bare form under covers, tucking himself behind you with his morning wood until that confidence bought him some sleepy sex. You heat up, and bite your lip at the memory.

You snap out of your trance, and make more conversation before you excuse yourself so he can get back to work. "Where is everybody?" you ask, voicing your observation. Since you got in, you haven't seen anybody.

Peter pours some coffee into a paper cup, fixing it up how you like it. Steam rises past the rim as he stirs it, and he draws his hand up to suck some sweetness off of his index finger. Your chest jumps, the residual recollection of what it's like to be filled stings your insides. Shifting your weight from leg to leg gives you the subtlest of frictions, and you try to conceal your growing interest by averting your eyes. He brings you the warm cup, handing it to you gently as he looks out through the glass of his office to the lobby. "Harry gave them the rest of the day off. It was in preparation for some repairs—" He glances at you during his explanation, and when you flash a questioning expression, he clarifies. "—er, for the particle accelerator. Apparently, there was some mistake with scheduling so Harry's out trying to get it sorted. I figured I should at least get something done while I'm here waiting it out."

You enter in a well-timed joke. "You should do me." Peter eyes you thoughtfully.

It was not a joke, and it was excellently timed.

"Did you know I've always wanted to fuck in your—mm—office?" you ask, panting while he yanks you back on his dick. Pressed up against the window that overlooks the lobby, your breath fogs it up. Your hands brace flat against it, its temperature cooling your heated skin, indenting your perked nips.

Peter's chuckle through his nose sounds behind you, and it widens your intoxicated grin. "S'not just mine, baby. What's he gonna say when he sees your tit-prints all over the glass?" Some of the stuff Peter says really gets you, his words shooting straight through you as his dirty talk often does. You moan in response, sucking a breath through your teeth right after, biting your lip hard as he plows your pussy. His steady hands on your hips make sure you can't recoil too much and run away too far, he keeps you right where he wants you so easy.

"We could've kept more clothes on, Pete." you gasp, your tone reminiscent of admonishment even though you loved how he flicked your shirt up to squeeze your tits between the window and your body. Knowing him, he'd been waiting to do that since you walked in.

"Now where's the fun in that?"

"You sound like you wanna get caught."

"You think I haven't thought about showing you off?"

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I Keep Thinking About a Gale x Ace!Tav x Astarion AU

It makes no damn sense. Compels me though.

Let me be clear, this would be an AU and not a continuation of the “canon” I’ve established with Ace!Tav. It’s just not how I picture their story playing out. All the same, I keep circling back to this in my brain. Call it a thought experiment.

I’m probably not going to write a full fic for it. So, if anybody wants to take this general idea and run with it, feel free. Just give me a shoutout. Or if you guys are curious about this AU drop me an ask and I’ll answer with some rambles.

Speaking of, shoutout to @leighsartworks216 for letting me ramble to them about it.

Astarion x Ace!Tav Masterlist (for reference)

Cards on the table, none of these people are ready for a poly relationship

Gale is explicitly monogamous and ties sex and romantic love intimately together. Astarion is still dealing with the idea of being enough and just ✨the trauma✨ . Meanwhile Tav has their own abandonment issues and is just waiting for Astarion to get bored and leave. And yet! This disaster trio won’t leave me alone.

So this whole thing gets started when Astarion approaches Tav about wanting to experiment with sex again

He knows Tav isn't interested in sex and doesn't want to make them feel pressured into having it just to please him, so they talk about opening up in the relationship

Tav is hesitant about it, but also doesn't want this to be the reason Astarion leaves and so agrees

They convince themselves that if Astarion wants to have a one night stand, it’s fine; so long as he’s not seeking out his emotional needs with other people then there’s no risk of him wanting to end things; this is, of course, a terrible way to handle it

So, with that hanging over their heads they reconnect with Gale over some quest (maybe getting a magical item to allow Astarion to walk in the sun)

Gale has been teaching and while happy is admittedly still a bit lonely so is grateful to see his friends again

Gale and Tav always had a close relationship, but seeing them again does stir up some of those old feelings he'd let lie because, you know, the Absolute (headcanon here for further details)

Gale internally berates himself for this because he 1) knows Tav is ace and therefor not interested in a sexual relationship which is something he prioritizes when it comes to romance and 2) Tav is clearly still in a loving relationship with Astarion, so he's not going to be the asshole to get in the middle of all that

He tells himself it’s just the loneliness talking and pushes that shit down

So, he starts getting closer to Astarion who, while still a bit of a rogue, has mellowed a bit and worked on some of his more selfish instincts

Honestly, having the opportunity to see how much Astarion is devoted to Tav increases his opinion of the man

He and Astarion’s relationship is still antagonistic, but much more playful than before

This culminated in a moment when Astarion and Tav are checking in on each other after a trap goes off

Astarion pulls them close a moment kissing Tav on the temple once it’s clear they’re fine

Gale watches this interaction, his stomach twisting with familiar jealousy, but pauses as his mind screeches to a halt realizing “wait, am I jealous of Astarion or Tav?"

Meanwhile Astarion is a bit surprised at Gale being more friendly with him, but he can't say he's complaining. He knows Tav missed him, and while he had his own jealousies early in the relationship, he's since moved passed it. Gale was the one to help him ultimately get together with Tav after all.

He makes more of an effort to get to know the wizard one on one and finds himself looking more and more

There is something oddly endearing when he rambles

Gods he really is a powerful wizard (connotation: scared and horny)

Did his robes always show off his chest hair like that

He really does make Tav happy

Until one morning he's laying in bed and snaps up enraged with himself like, "GALE?! OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU CAN FEEL COMPELLED TO FUCK. FUCKING GALE?!?!?!?!"

Full existential crisis

Yes, they said opening the relationship, but he knows how nervous Tav feels about it. They’ve told him about their past relationships and how so many of them fell apart when the topic of sex came up

But he also knows he can’t do a one night stand; he needs to trust the person he’s having sex with, he wants it to mean something

He knows Gale and he knows it would mean something with him

He also knows Gale’s opinion on monogamy; would he force him to choose between him and Tav? Would Gale even want to be with him? Astarion knows Gale used to feel deeply for Tav

And what if it ends badly? Gale is Tav’s friend, his friend. Fuck, this can’t be happening

Meanwhile Tav is reconnecting with Gale and is like, “Gods I did miss him…oh wait I like *missed* him, missed him”. But pushes that shit down because, again, in a very loving relationship with Astarion which they won’t risk for anything and 2) Gale has made it clear that sex is something he values in a relationship as a form of intimacy.

They knew they couldn’t give him that then and they can’t now

Tav is also starting to notice how Astarion is looking at Gale

They’re much more in tune with his emotions and can see he’s interested

Tav starts to feel jealous and then feels guilty for doing so because they said opening the relationship was fine

Gale is wonderful. They know he’d treat Astarion the way he deserves. They could hardly blame Astarion for ultimately choosing him

They knew deep down they were just a stepping stone on Astarion’s road to recovery. If he can be with someone who can give him so much love and sex, why would he need them?

It also doesn’t help that as they start noticing Astarion looking at Gale, they see Gale looking right back

They do feel deeply for Gale, but know his thoughts on monogamy

Besides, they turned him down before, they can’t expect Gale to have held onto those feelings

So they start to slowly distance themselves from both men, resolving that if Astarion approaches them about it, they’re not going to stand in his way.

This course of action causes all of them to start driving themselves crazy in their own heads

Astarion is scrambling because they can sense Tav pulling away and is desperate to figure out what’s wrong, but Tav won’t tell them anything

Gale can see it too and so is pushing down all of his emotions because “Tav I know you love Astarion and Astarion loves you, so what’s going on”

Tav can’t confide in him either so they just don’t say anything

This leaves Astarion and Gale to start confiding in each other more because what’s going on?

Finally Astarion spills everything to Gale, he and Tav opening their relationship, his fears about them leaving, and becuase he’s got a good idea why they’re pulling away

Gale is admittedly a bit obtuse about it which prompts Astarion to grab him by the front of the robes and start kissing him

Gale respond enthusiastically and the two of them start making out. But before it goes any further their brains catch up with them and they stop, both knowing that they need to talk to Tav

So they approach Tav and Tav’s like, “yeah, it’s fine, can’t say I’m surprised, neither of you are exactly subtle. It’s fine. I’ll take this as my queue to go then.”

Astarion then jumps in like, “wait, no, who said anything about leaving”.

Tav tries to convince him that it’s fine, that they’re happy for him, really. They can’t begrudge him for wanting more and he shouldn’t feel compelled to stay with them.

Astarion’s brain is reeling from this because are you actually kidding me? Please say you’re joking and don’t actually believe that.

He then takes their face in his hands and tells them he’s not going to stop loving them just because he wants to have sex again and if there is one lesson they’ve taught him is that he has more love in him that he ever thought possible. He’s got plenty to spare.

Gale meanwhile has been watching Astarion and Tav’s relationship for some time and has come to understand you can separate sex and romantic love

He then steps in saying, “yes, I am interested is pursuing something more with Astarion, but also with you. Honestly out of the two of you, I’ve loved you for much longer”.

Tav would still need time to accept the idea that they’re not the third wheel. Gale would need to work out how to put that sometimes obsessive love into two people and Astarion still has his trauma, but they’d all have each other to work it all out once they get everything out into the open.

[destielomegaversebigbang]

Into the Fire

Posting September 16, 2024

Fic by Crematosis

Art by spn-fanfic-reblog-writes

Rating: Explicit

Summary: As an omega, Dean has always had to work harder than anyone else to be taken seriously as dragon slayer. Castiel might be a bigger dragon than most, but Dean's still confident he can take him down and prove his worth. The whole plan falls apart when Dean discovers Castiel isn't actually interested in fighting him.

Tags: Omega Dean, Alpha Castiel, Top Castiel, Bottom Dean, Dragon Castiel, Shifter Castiel, Horse Impala, Alternate Universe-Medieval Fantasy, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Heat Sex, Handjobs, Mentioned Past Sex Work, One-Sided Enemies to Lovers, Castiel Loves Dean, Canon Typical Violence, Injured Dean, John’s A+ Parenting

Excerpt below the cut

Dean took a step back. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“Draw your sword, Dean.”

Dean’s heart pounded. While Castiel was human, it was easy to forget he was still a dragon and still a threat to him. He quickly drew his sword.

Castiel twisted Dean’s arm behind his back.

With a yelp of surprise, Dean’s hand spasmed and the sword clattered to the ground.

“For starters, we should discuss your reaction times. I disarmed you very easily.”

Dean huffed as he cradled his injured hand to his chest. “I fight dragons, not people.”

“And humans are much weaker opponents than dragons. If you really want to take out a dragon, you should ensure you can handle a human first.”

“Well, that would be where you’re wrong. I can handle dragons just fine.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “And yet, you’re having difficulty fighting me.”

“Yeah, so what? You’re a big-ass dragon that nobody can kill. And even though you look like a normal human now, you’re still all dragoned up so it doesn’t count. I could handle anybody else.”

“So does that mean you’re going to give up on fighting me?”

“Hell no,” Dean scoffed. “Dragonslayers never give up.”

“Very well. If you want to continue fighting me, I can help you with some training exercises.”

“What? You’re going to teach me how to fight you?”

“Yes, of course. I’ve seen the way you fight. And you’re very likely to get yourself killed at some point. Another dragon won’t be kind enough to bring you home to care for your injuries.”

[catgrassplantdad]

weekly tag wednesday 🌙

i was tagged by @suchagallabitch and @energievie! 💜

1. if you could switch bodies with anybody for only one hour who would it be and what would you do? stealing evie's answer and saying i'd switch bodies with my husband for sex purposes. insane answer. i love it.

2. whats your most trivial / dumbest hot take? fuck ketchup

3. if you had to teach a college course what would it be in? introduction to primatology

4. season 12 of shameless is suddenly happen and youve been put in charge! what plot point(s) are you gonna make happen? i love this question. most importantly, carl finds his way out of policing and maybe gets into social work or something. i really want happiness and stability for lip somehow. i'd love for him to find a job he thrives in, and tbh i'd wanna see what plays out if the house does get sold. i have nooooo ideaaaa what i'd like to see for kev and v tbh. i wish i could think of something. debbie does go with heidi and regrets it, and i'd wanna see her work her way through that situation in the beginning of that season and find her way back home close to her family, and then become more independent as the season progresses. i don't know where i want liam. i think he starts with lip and tami but i don't know if i'd have him stay there. i know a lot of people like to put him with ian and mickey, but i can't see it. i'd have to think about this. i'd like to see ian and mickey start the process of adopting a baby. i so desperately want to see them work through that. i wanna see how they settle into their home on the west side (i don't think they'd stay there for the long run, but for one season of a show i could see it), how they grow their business, and how they approach becoming parents.

5. who would be your godly parent? (can be any mythology). i don't have enough of a knowledge base in any mythology to answer this question.

6. what’s something you love about yourself? i'm normally quite confident in social situations and can easily connect with new people.

7. describe your day in 5 emojis: ☕📝🐈💕🍞

8. what shameless character do you think you could beat in a fight? literally none of them lol

9. tell us 2 truths and a lie, we’ll try to guess the lie! i can do a headstand, karaoke is my favorite party activity, i refuse to wear sneakers

10. do you have a pet(s). if so how did they get their name? yes i do! i have a cat. i initially gave her a different name that i picked out of a baby naming book, but then it very quickly morphed from that into what her name is now.

11. show us a meme (or picture) that captures your essence

12. whats your typical coffee / tea / beverage order? black coffee or dirty chai

13. use a song to describe the last 5 years of your life? questions like this make me forget every song i've ever heard. i also don't normally find myself personally relating to what i'm listening to very much.

tagging @howlinchickhowl @gallawitchxx @heymrspatel @whatwouldmickeydo @whatthebodygraspsnot @gardenerian @rereadanon @deedala @crossmydna @ardent-fox @tanktopgallavich @creepkinginc @softmick @transmickey if you guys want to play 💚✨

[just-antithings]

I found this rant in my notes from, like June of 2021. I have no idea what it was in response to, but I thought y'all might appreciate it, so here goes:

So, the anti-shipping movement is closely entwined with--although not identical to--the anti-kink movement. (Both are subsidiaries of the radfem poison that's been creeping through society and fandom as of late, but that's a discussion for another time.) For the uninitiated, anti-kinksters oppose basically any "unconventional" sexual activities such as BDSM, DDLG, furry stuff, and all sorts of other shit consenting adults do in their bedrooms (or sex dungeons).

Now, these fuckers are just wild to me. I think anti-shipping is bonkers, but I at least get the idea behind it: Namely, that people can be bullied out of--publicly, at least--shipping certain things. Making ship fic/art is a relatively niche hobby, and fandoms are ephemeral. So if you can make it socially unacceptable to write about Ship A for, say, five years, you may have eliminated that ship altogether. You don't need to keep doing it forever because a fandom's popularity will eventually wane.

Kink does not work this way. Sexual fetishes have existed for all of human history. Many of them are, if not innate, formed in early childhood. You can't keep people from being kinky. Even if the human race started over tomorrow with no memory of anything that came before, people would immediately start trying to find newer and weirder ways to fuck, because that's just sort of what people do.

So... what the fuck do anti-kinksters want, exactly? You can't stop people from having these desires. Do they want people to stop acting on these desires with other consenting adults? What possible good could that do anyone? How would you decide what counts as kink? How could you ever enforce that? Sure, there's always shame, but a) there's already a good deal of shame associated with many kinks b) if there's one thing I've learned from true crime podcasts, it's that somebody who's shamed for their sexual interests is one head injury away from being a serial killer.

Do they just want kinksters to stop making porn? I reiterate: Fucking why? You're an adult, you can hit the back button if you see something you don't like. I do it every single day. It's easy, I promise.

Of course, antis of every variety like to whinge about "the children." It will traumatize the children or make them vulnerable to pedophiles or whatever (which, holy shit, way to blame the victim). To which I say: Why the fuck are your kids in any position to see porn of any kind, and how is this anybody else's problem? Complaining that your kid saw porn on the internet is like complaining that you gave your kid enough money for a ticket, dropped them off at the theater alone, and returned to find out they'd watched an R-rated movie. Like, no shit, Sherlock, what did you think was going to happen?

Nobody made you give your kid internet access. Nobody made you fail to supervise them. Nobody made you be too lazy to set up parental controls, or forget to teach them basic internet safety protocols, or avoid giving them the talk and just hope their school would take care of it. That shit's on you. Maybe, depending on the circumstances, the platform your kid was using is at fault for not having good filtering, or the content creators were at fault for failing to tag stuff properly. At no point in the equation is it the fault of some random dude who just happens to be into balloons or raw pizza dough or whatever.

So... this was a very long rant about anti-kinksters that may not even belong here. In conclusion, parent your fucking kids.

[l0vegl0wsinthedark]

heyy <3

can i get some writing tips??

like how to describe something without seeming too much?

oh and how tf do i write smut 😭 i always cringe and end up deleting it

thank you 💙🤍

p.s. have a lovely dayyy

Okay look i usually never answer these asks with any real advice because i just don't think i am qualified to teach anybody how to write. I'm so sleepy and tired rn so obviously I'm going to give you advice. I will tell you what i try to bear in mind while i write which is never haha. Please don't read this more than once:

When describing:

People:

Don't describe clothes/outfits in intricate detail unless the details matter/contribute to the story/plot. Or if the clothes themselves help describe something else (eg. Her blue shirt made hear eyes appear bluer than ever.)

While we're on a person's appearance, try to describe a character in a way that tells us more than just about what you're describing (eg. His sweet smile was directly at odds with the malevolence his eyes always gleamed with.) Two birds, one stone.

Please refrain from having character stand before a mirror and describe themselves in painful detail to the reader. Just please no. (Case in point: nicely separated breasts. iykyk)

Describe a person's nature/character using their actions. Actions similar in style/motive etc will go on to form the character's tendencies. This is how the reader can then go "ah shit, he's about to fuck around and find out isn't he thE IDIOT NOOO I KNEW IT!!!". Additionally, this can also be a way to surprise the reader "great she's gonna work late AGAIN and miss the— SHE JUST BROKE HER BOSS' FACE?!?!!?AHSHSJSJHSHS"

Setting:

Describe what is pertinent to the scene you're writing. If you describe one particular thing in rich detail, it's gotta play an important role at some point.

The curtains don't have to be blue if the character is sad. They can be any colour you want them to be. Use instant instinct to draw details; if you overthink you might end up pouring a whole lot of meaning into stuff that you never intended to and this might distract from the actual story.

The more details you provide, the clearer the picture in the reader's mind (also the more you need to remember if you're revisiting the room). It's a fucking gamble.

When providing descriptions in general, less is more. I struggle a lot with this because i want to tell the readers about every flower in the upholstery and every lamp post on the street. When you read the old classics you'll find all these detailed descriptions and they're just so charming. Something about the way literature has evolved since then has prompted professors to teach us not to bore the reader with too much or something. Like, honestly, i don't think any two writers can describe something in the same way. It all comes down to style i think??

On writing smut:

I am the opposite of an expert just please don't listen to me.

Please just say cock.

PLEASE DON'T SAY CUM.

Please let them sweat and smell like it; let them make dying whale noises instead of musical moans; sometimes people have kinda funny or weird sex faces and that's fine i think.

Body parts dangle and sag and bulge and jiggle.

Bodies have hair.

Write what you think would feel good. Chances are that others might think so too.

No he cannot last that long, make him come.

No she did not squirt like a fountain.

No he does not taste like fucking mango sorbet or some gourmet shit; his cock tasted like a dick because it is a penis.

No her vagina did not look like a rose spreading its petals and did not taste like a strawberry; it smelled and tasted like a vagina.

Sometimes sex is awkward.

Not everyone is an expert.

I think it's safe to say that one does not usually have fourteen consecutive orgasms.

Look i can go on and on. Keep smut real and stay in character and things will sound hot because the people having sex in scene think it's hot.

Everything i have just written is complete bullshit. Kisses!

[pincushionpuppy]

im kinda interested in getting into digital sex work (selling nudes / camming / sexting / literally whatever) but i have no idea how i would go about that, does anybody have any tips or want to teach me how?

[bisexualseraphim]

wait you’re actually Christian but also lgbt? how does that work?

So I’ve got a bit of a funny relationship with religion — I was actually raised Iehovah’s Witness at first (yeah that’s a story to tell…), decided I didn’t like that one bit, was then raised Protestant for a while, became antitheist out of rebellion, studied religion in depth, went through a few different phases, and then finally rejoined the Church as a Protestant again.

However, I would describe myself as more of an agnostic-Christian; I do not take any edition of the Bible at face value or, pardon the pun, as gospel. I also don’t see God as some bearded old dude in the sky who loves us yet has nothing better to do other than spread disease and watch us destroy all species.

Some people might find that contradictory and I do understand that, but I personally find it a lot more productive and comforting to see the Bible kind of like Aesop’s Fables — these events did not actually happen the way they are depicted, but there are valuable lessons to be learned from them and they are personal and open to interpretation by everyone who reads them. Every Christian you meet will have a different opinion on what it “actually” says and means. You’d be surprised how many claim that Ezekiel’s descriptions of angels are “wrong�� despite literally being there within the text. At the end of the day it is a book, just like any other. No interpretation is strictly right or wrong.

…Which is exactly why I despise Christians who use it to excuse their hatred. “I interpret the Bible as saying that men having sex with men is wrong.” Okay? That’s personal to you. So just don’t have sex with men as a man if you don’t want to. However, many other people don’t interpret it that way or just aren’t Christian to begin with, so for you to tell them that their identity or their personal lives are against God is cunt behaviour. You are not Christ himself, it is not your job to “save” them or whatever the fuck. Mind your business.

I just think trying to apply a magical story that was written thousands of years ago in many different languages that can be translated and interpreted in many different ways to the real world in the 21st century is pointless and can only lead to a life of misery. I mean, Hell isn’t even spoken about in the Bible the way that 99% of Christians speak of it. Dante made up most of that shit in Inferno about 2700 years after the Bible’s first ever conception. They’re literally basing their idea of Hell off of, essentially, a fanfiction poem when they tell us that that’s where us gays are headed. They don’t even actually read the text they hold so dear lmao. You’re not technically supposed to wear mixed fabrics or shave your beard or cut your hair or get tattoos according to the Bible but that always goes ignored too 🤷🏻‍♂️ You can’t do all that but then rag on trans people for “rejecting His image” or whatever the fuck. People are the way God made them, and God made trans people. Not that anyone follows the Bible to the letter anyway. That would be practically impossible. (And, as I said, not everyone is Christian and interested in abiding by the Bible.) In short, do whatever the fuck you want as long as it’s not hurting anybody else. Love yourself and love each other.

So yeah, it’s a bit of a weird one for me. I think the Bible is a very interesting story regardless of whether it’s “real” or not and many could get something out of reading it if you just see it as kind of a cool comic book or something. I find the idea of Heaven and an afterlife comforting and I value the teachings of Christ. At the same time, I am open to all other religions and their teachings. Everyone has their own perspective on who or what God actually is — or many Gods, of course — and nobody has any right to tell them that they are wrong, because we simply don’t know. I think anyone who has studied the Bible would also greatly benefit from reading the Torah, the Bhagavad Gita, the Koran, etc to open up their world view a little more.

I just think it’s such a shame that religion is often used to divide when it could instead be used to connect and relate with others. I had many Jewish, Buddhist and Hindu friends as a kid and I greatly enjoyed discussing with them our respective texts and how they differed, but were also in many ways similar. And I do admit I sometimes feel ashamed for being part of a group who so often see an ancient book as the entire meaning of life, the universe, and everything and use it to deny human rights or even fucking science.

Facts and science should always come before faith, end of story. Science is a universal truth whereas faith is personal belief. And you should always, always, when you can, be kind. “Love thy neighbour as thyself” and all that. Funny how that always gets ignored. Just goes to show that people who spread hatred have some serious self-esteem issues.

And I hate all forms of bigotry but one that especially gets on my nerves is antisemitism by Christians because it is entirely baseless and Christianity literally would not exist if it weren’t for the Jewish people. (Not that bigotry ever has an excuse but you get my meaning.) Jesus was not killed by “the Jews.” Jesus WAS a Jew and he was persecuted by — who else — the Romans. And even if he was killed by Jewish people (he wasn’t) that still wouldn’t excuse any of the horrific things done to them throughout history. Antisemitism has been a problem since Judaism first became a concept thousands of years ago and I cannot express how much it saddens and disappoints me that it’s still so commonplace today. Many people are even antisemitic without realising due to all the dogwhistling (“lizard people rule the world,” anyone?). It’s abhorrent.

But yeah. It’s complicated. To sum up: I love Jesus. I believe in Something that created us but not necessarily exactly as the Bible says. I believe most if not all of the Bible is metaphorical and therefore using it to justify treating others shittily is bullshit. I believe science should always come before faith and church should always be separated from the State. Religion is deeply personal and therefore trying to enforce your personal beliefs and values from it onto others is, at the very least, fucking rude and preachers can kiss my well-bathed arse. I believe all religions are valid and have value and, if I’m being honest, I am primarily Christian rather than anything else due to its familiarity to me. If me from 20 years into the future time travelled back here and told me I’d end up becoming Jewish or Buddhist or Hindu or something else, I’d be completely fine with that. I am always curious about the world around me and try to be as open as possible, and, above all else, compassionate. (Except to bigots and to anyone else who’s plain cruel but I don’t feel like I can be particularly faulted for that.) And I believe Christianity and the Church as an institution has a lot of issues that it needs to answer for.

I don’t know if I’ve at all explained myself well here but if anyone has any more questions my inbox is always open. (But if you come in to say anything homophobic or transphobic or antisemitic or whatever the fuck in the name of the Bible you can go fuck yourself ✌🏻)

[beatrice-otter]

Fic: Schoolwork

Title: Schoolwork Author: Beatrice_Otter Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Characters: Jake Sisko & Kasidy Yates Written for: Ericine in Heart Attack Exchange 2023 Rating: K Length: 10k AN: Thank you to sixbeforelunch for the beta, and sovik on the Vulkhansu Discord for information about how long it takes to get from Bajor to DS9. According to secondary canon, Andorians have four sexes (zhen, shen, chan, and than), and these are important enough to be part of their names. On the show, what few times we see an Andorian, they use 'he' or 'she' which does not make sense to me if they genuinely have four sexes. (The show does tell us that Andorian marriage requires groups of four.) So I decided that the Andorian OC appearing in this fic is going to be of the chan sex and that the name of the sex doubles as a pronoun. At AO3. On Squidgeworld. On Ad Astra. On Dreamwidth. On Pillowfort. "So, when are you coming home?" Grampa asked. Jake made a face. "I don't have any plans for a vacation to Earth in the next few months," he said. "There's a lot going on here, and will be for a while. And the Federation News Service doesn't have anybody else on the station—it's a great opportunity, I don't want to miss it." They'd spent half the call so far talking about how busy he was, so he wasn't sure why his grandfather was asking when he was coming home. "I understand all that," Grandpa said with an air of patience. "But I mean, after that. Things will quiet down eventually, or they'll send someone else to cover things. Your father isn't stationed there any longer, and who knows how long it'll be before he gets back from wherever he is? And besides, you're a grown man; you don't have to live out in the far reaches of the galaxy just because it's where Starfleet sent your dad." "I know that," Jake said. If he hadn't been a grown man, he couldn't have stayed on the station when the Federation pulled out. "What's your point?" "I was assuming that you'd want to come home, to Earth," Grandpa said. "You talked about getting a writing fellowship at the Pennington School." "Grandpa, that was years ago," Jake protested. "A lot has changed since then!"

Grandpa waved his hand. "After all you've done, and the things you've published, I'm sure they'd be happy to have you. Or maybe you're interested in journalism school, instead?" "I'm getting some pretty good on-the-job training, and that's more important than anything I'd learn in school," Jake said. "Yes, but in the long run, a degree will do you good," Grandpa said. "You're good at academics, and going to college always helps broaden the mind. If nothing else, it's good to spend time with people your own age." "I think my mind is pretty broad, after all I've seen and done here on DS9," Jake said. "I don't know, maybe I'll see if Bajor has any writing schools or something—they had a really good educational system before the Cardassians, and they've been working to restore it." "You mean you're not even going to consider coming back to Earth?" Grandpa said, voice rising. "To be with your family?" "I have family here," Jake said. "And close friends. If I'm not here, who's going to teach my little sibling how to cook? Kasidy would never move to Earth, her shipping company has too many contacts in this part of space." He frowned. "Did you really think I was going to move back to Earth?" "Yes!" Grandpa said. "The posting to Bajor was only ever supposed to be temporary, of course I thought you'd come home!" Jake thought about that for a few seconds. "I've lived on Deep Space Nine longer than anywhere else I've lived in my life. And if you're talking about Earth … I've never actually lived there. The closest to Earth I've actually lived was Mars, when Dad was stationed at Utopia Planitia. Earth is your home, and Dad's—" although, actually, Dad had made it pretty clear he now considered Bajor his home, but this probably wasn't the time to remind Grandpa of that "—but it's not mine." Grandpa was taken aback. "You know," Jake said, "you could come out here. You did it once, in the middle of a war, no less! It'd be a lot safer now. Besides me, you're going to have another grandchild soon, and Kasidy is even busier than I am, with less reason to go to Earth. Don't you want to meet your grandbaby?" "Of course," Grandpa said. "But a visit isn't the same as having you living nearby." "I know, but Aunt Judith has been the only one of your kids living on the same planet since Uncle Nathan moved to Luna before I was even born," Jake said. "You must be used to it by now." "Used to it, yes," Grandpa said. "Happy with it, never. I thought, with four kids, surely at least one of them will have kids and live on the same planet!" Jake made a face. It wasn't that Grandpa complained about that often—he respected the life decisions of his children, and was proud of all of them—but it was heart-felt and deeply emotional when it did get made. "Don't make that face at me, young man," Grandpa said. "You'll understand what I'm saying if you have children of your own one day. Though at least I hope all of yours will stay on the same plane of existence, even if they do live scattered across the quadrant." "Yeah," Jake said with a sigh. "Me, too." He didn't think the Prophets would take an interest in him or any future children he might have, but what did he know? It wasn't something anybody could have predicted with Dad, either. "And who's going to run the restaurant with me gone?" Grandpa said. This was complaining for the sake of complaining; Jake knew his grandfather well enough to tell. Grandpa was never so happy as when he had something to complain about. And Jake didn't miss the fact that Grandpa was already taking a visit to the station as a done deal. "I can count the number of cooks I'd trust with it on the fingers of one hand … and most of them are busy. And don't suggest your Aunt Judith—even if she didn't have her own life, she's not one of the people I'd trust in my kitchen. Not when the food is being sold with my name on it." Jake shrugged and didn't bother suggesting either of his two uncles. Uncle David lived on Proxima and rarely came to Earth, and Uncle Nathan lived on Luna but couldn't cook to save his life. Normally, Jake enjoyed listening to his grandpa grouse, but the mention of his dad's absence touched a nerve. "If you can't find someone to take over for you, I'm sure it won't kill you or your customers to have the restaurant closed for a month or two." Grandpa grumbled a bit more, and before long, the time was up on the call. …… When there were no ships going through the wormhole—and that happened regularly but infrequently, these days—the view out the windows on the Promenade was much the same as from any portal on a ship or station. A starscape—pretty, but ordinary. "You look lost in thought." Jake smiled and turned to face Colonel Kira. "I was seeing how many Bajoran constellations I could recognize and remember the stories of." "How were you doing?" Kira asked. "I knew more of them when Dad and I were sailing that lightship," Jake said. "Even with all that happened on that trip, there was a lot of time that was pretty quiet. We read Bajoran stories about space and the constellations during some of it." And he'd shown Dad his first real story. Dad had read everything he wrote. Until he joined the Prophets. Kira didn't say anything, just put a hand on his shoulder. Jake appreciated that; there wasn't much anybody could say that hadn't been said. Bajoran or Federation, everybody had an opinion on his Dad, most of them thought they knew what Jake was feeling (or should be feeling), and none of them actually did. "I was just going to get lunch in Quark's," Kira said. "Want to join me?" "Keeping an eye on him?" Jake said, and they made their way down to the lower level. "He has been the perfect picture of a legal and upstanding businessman recently," Kira said. "So naturally you're suspicious." "So naturally I'm suspicious." Kira shrugged. "I haven't even been able to catch him running a betting pool on the next Kai." "That doesn't sound like him," Jake said. "There's a limit to how quiet you can keep something and still pass the word along to your customers, and Quark always errs on the side of more customers." "Exactly!" Kira said as they entered the bar and took a table off to the side. They were a little after the lunch rush, so there was plenty of room and things weren't too noisy. Broik was there to take their order as soon as they sat down. "Colonel Kira! Jake! Always a pleasure to have you here at Quark's. How's Captain Yates doing these days? Has she picked a name?" "She's fine," Jake said. If he said anything more than that, it would be all over the station in ten minutes, and all over the system in half an hour. "I'll have my usual," Kira said, and Jake was grateful for the interruption. Broik turned to her. "One ratamba-and-cheese sandwich, with fried bonja on the side." Jake almost asked for shrimp and grits, and then realized that asking for something his Dad used to cook would only make him miss him more. "I'll have katterpod stew," he said. Dad had tried a few recipes with it, but never gotten something he liked enough to add to the regular cooking rotation. Broik smiled toothily at them and whisked away to the replicators. "Maybe I should be looking for a betting pool on the baby," Kira said. "It wouldn't surprise me," Jake said. "But as long as they don't bother me or Kasidy about it, I really don't care." Kasidy wanted to keep the baby as out of the spotlight as possible, which Jake thought was a good idea, and part of that was not announcing sex or name or due date or any other detail until the baby was born. But discussing any of that here would be as good as announcing everything to Quark, and thus feeding the rumor mill. "So how are things in Ops these days?" Jake asked. "Strictly off the record," Kira said—she always did that, now that he was a regular reporter—"it's all routine. The diplomatic stuff is all handled by people a lot more senior than I am, and neither the Dominion nor the Breen have been making trouble, so we're back to the ordinary stuff. Handling wormhole traffic, cargo ships …" "… keeping Quark in line," Jake said. "Exactly!" Kira said. "It's amazing how quickly things just … went back to normal. It's so different from the end of the Cardassian Occupation." "Bajor was lucky," Jake said. "Neither the station nor the planet suffered much under Dominion rule." "The prophets were looking out for us," Kira said. "Warning us not to join the Federation before the war. Things would have been very different if they hadn't." Every Bajoran over the age of seven knew, from first-hand personal experience, just how bad things could have gotten. The Prophets had shielded them from the Dominion. They hadn't shielded them from the Cardassians before them. "Here we are!" Broik said. "Ratamba-and-cheese sandwich for the lady, and katterpod stew for the gentleman. Can I get you anything else?" "No, we're fine," Kira said. They applied themselves to their meal, and the conversation turned to lighter subjects. Jake recounted his call with Grandpa Joseph. "So now I'm wondering if I should be looking into schools on Bajor," Jake said. "See what kind of programs they have for writing or journalism." Kira shrugged. "I can't advise you there," she said. "It's not something I've ever had any experience with, or even known anybody who did. And before the Occupation my family were artists, artisans, crafters—not the caste that went to university. Pretty much all I can tell you is that our universities are actually one of the sticking points in the negotiations for Federation membership." "Really?" Jake said. "How's that?" He'd been keeping a close eye on the news stories coming out of the Bajoran capital, and none of them had mentioned the universities as anything more than a side issue. "The universities that survived the Cardassians—or which have managed to re-establish themselves since—are prickly and proud of their heritage. They used to be some of the best in the sector, you know." "I did know that," Jake said. "Even the Cardassians sent people to them, before the Occupation." "Exactly," Kira said. "But our ways of doing things don't quite mesh with the Federation educational systems. I don't understand all the specifics, and frankly, some of it seems a bit … petty. They agree on all the major points! But I don't know how long it's going to take them to come to an agreement. I don't think it will hold up the main talks, but it's certainly not helping them along." "Maybe that's something I should look into," Jake said. Much of the negotiations were happening behind closed doors, of course, and there were a couple of Federation journalists covering the talks who had much better chances of getting things out of the Federation negotiators than Jake did, given their experience and connections. But that meant they weren't getting much of the Bajoran perspective on the whole thing. Kira shrugged. "I wouldn't mind something in the Federation news about our side of the story—I know there's grumbling in Starfleet about us, that we backed out of joining before the war and aren't gratefully falling at their feet now." "But Bajor was crucial to the war effort," Jake protested. "The final victory couldn't have happened without you guys. And if you'd resisted earlier, who knows if you would have been in a position to do something once you actually had a shot?" "But we did sit out a lot of the war, while your people were fighting and dying," Kira said. "I don't blame them for it. In their shoes, I'd probably feel the same. But I don't want them taking that resentment out on us when we do join." …… "Do you have any contacts in Bajoran academia?" Jake asked Kasidy the next night. He was cooking jambalaya for dinner, since she was craving spicy food right now and it made him feel closer to Dad. He never cooked when it was just himself—too much effort for one person. "Not really," Kasidy said. She was sitting on the couch watching him cook. "Bajorans train spacers through an apprenticeship system that's separate from the academic aspect—they have sharp distinctions between different types of higher education, and I'm not quite sure where all the differences are or why they divide it up the way they do. Or even what parts of the system are remnants of the way the Cardassians did things, what are from the original Bajoran educational system, and what have been cobbled together in the decade since the Occupation ended. What I care most about is can I trust the dockworkers and maintenance engineers to take care of the Xhosa, and can I get crew I can rely on to help me run her—and so far, I've been really impressed with the training and professionalism I've seen." She shifted and adjusted the pillow behind her. "Why do you ask? Are you thinking about going to school on Bajor?" "No," Jake said absently, skewering a piece of porli to taste it. Porli didn't taste like chicken (though they did look a little bit like chickens when they were alive), but Jake actually preferred the Bajoran bird to the Terran one. "I mean, yes," he said, catching himself, "but that's not why I'm asking. Colonel Kira said something about one of the factors holding up the negotiations for Federation entry this time around is the universities, but none of the reporters covering the talks have mentioned it. I wanted to see if I could find anything, see if there was a story there." "Makes sense, but I can't help you," Kasidy said. "I wondered what the hold-up was—they've been talking about it for years, and last time they got right to the brink of signing, and would have signed if Ben hadn't warned the Bajorans off." "Last time, there was the pressure of the Dominion hanging over everything," Jake pointed out, "and Bajor didn't want to chance an invasion without Federation protection. Maybe there were compromises that were worth it under that kind of pressure, but not if they have some breathing room." "Good point," Kasidy said. "How long is it going to be? You know I love your Jambalaya, but if it's not ready soon I'm going to have to eat this couch." Jake eyed the amount of liquid left to be absorbed by the rice with an experienced eye. "Give it another five minutes? I won't be offended if you replicate a snack, you know; you're eating for two." "I think I can last five minutes," Kasidy said. "But next time, I probably will get a snack, if you really don't mind." "I really don't mind," Jake said. "Maybe I should look through the names and biographical information for the people on the Bajoran negotiating team, see if any of them have worked in a university, and just send a request for an interview out of the blue. It's awkward, if I don't have some sort of an introduction, though; Bajor didn't have a unified tradition of investigative journalism, just a series of newsletters and magazines collecting items of interest for different professions and castes. When I want to interview a Bajoran, I usually have to explain what news media is, first." "I'm sure they'll say yes to an interview from you," Kasidy said. "I'm sure they will, too," Jake said. "But I don't like trading on my Dad's status as Emissary, which is what it really boils down to." "I'm afraid that as long as you live in Bajoran space, that's going to happen whether you want it to or not," Kasidy said. She rubbed her stomach. "I didn't realize how much Dad was insulating me from that aspect of his life, until he wasn't here to do it any more," Jake admitted. "I think people care more about you now that he's with the Prophets, too," Kasidy said. "Most Bajorans will never go through the wormhole, never even come up to the station to see it, and they certainly won't ever see an Orb in person. For a few years, Benjamin was a tangible connection to the Prophets. Now he's gone … but you're still here to be a tangible connection to him. And a reason for him to come back someday." "I hope it's sooner rather than later," Jake said, staring down into the pot. "So do I," Kasidy said. "And between the two of us, I hope we can keep the little one protected from all of that," Jake said. "I'm sure we will," Kasidy said. "You're going to be an excellent big brother, Jake." "Thanks," Jake said. He turned off the stove. "Dinner's ready." Kasidy heaved herself up from the couch and joined him at the table. "Mm! This is so good, Jake," she said as she swallowed her first bite. They talked while they ate, eventually coming around to the subject of the house she and Dad had been planning to build on Bajor. "I just don't know," Kasidy said. "It's a lot of effort, building a house, and it's just far enough from the capital to be inconvenient for business purposes. It might turn into nothing more than a vacation home, and I don't know if that would be worth it. But then I ask myself, wouldn't it be wonderful to have it ready for him when he comes home?" She sighed. "What do you think?" "I think that if Dad wants that house so much, he can come back from the Celestial Temple and build it himself," Jake said. "Until he does, you're the one who'd be living there." He pushed some of the rice around his plate. For all that his Dad had talked about building a place on Bajor, it was hard to imagine him anywhere but the station, or some other Starfleet posting—the house would probably have been a vacation getaway no matter what, somewhere to retire to, not something to live in right away. A symbol of his roots on Bajor, more than a home. Kasidy hadn't been exaggerating how hungry she was, Jake noted; her first helping disappeared before he was even halfway through his plate, and she went back not only for seconds, but thirds. "It's nice to be appreciated," Jake said with a grin as she spooned out a generous helping. "You know how good a cook you are," Kasidy said. "And the baby is a true Sisko—loves those spices!" "Have you decided on a name?" Jake asked. "Not yet." "You don't have much time," Jake pointed out. "I know," Kasidy said with a sigh. "It's just hard, without Ben here to help. We hadn't really talked about names, before he left. Everything was so busy. I was wondering if maybe Joseph would be appropriate?" "I'm sure he'd have liked that, and I know Grandpa would," Jake said. "But Dad already got a chance to name a kid. This baby is his second, but your first. Maybe only! I don't know if you two would consider a second kid even if Dad comes back tomorrow. So you should name it what you want." "I'd like to name it something Benjamin will be happy with when he comes back," Kasidy said. "Yeah, well, if he wanted naming privileges maybe he should have stuck around," Jake said. He knew it hadn't exactly been his Dad's choice, and that whatever had gone down in the Fire Caves, the Pah Wraiths were evil and powerful enough that one person sacrificing themselves to stop their rise was more than worth it. And that the Prophets could have just let him die there; taking him to their plane was better than being dead. At least this way, there was a chance he'd come back. But it still hurt, and Kasidy was one of the few people he felt comfortable complaining to. Kasidy sighed again and changed the subject. "You know, I've had a number of people trying to volunteer to be the baby's nanny?" "A nanny?" Jake asked, wrinkling his nose. "A professional child caregiver who works for only one family, instead of for multiple families in a creche setting," Kasidy said. "I know what it is, I just didn't know they still existed outside of Victorian novels," Jake said. "Apparently they exist on Bajor. In some ways, I'm torn," Kasidy said. "Benjamin and I planned to do it the normal way—take turns staying home when the baby is young, and then put them in a creche while we work once they get a couple of years old. And in some ways, I'd like to do that. But it's a lot more practical with two parents than just one." "And it's also more practical when at least one parent has a stable job," Jake said. "You spend so much time moving around. Not just cargo runs, but also trips to Bajor and back. Without Dad, you're going to have to take the baby with you. And your ship isn't big enough to have a creche." "Exactly!" Kasidy said. "I might as well hire a nanny. I'm just not so sure how to find one on Bajor that isn't doing it just because they want to be closer to the Emissary, or mold the Emissary's child in some way." "Hiring someone from the Federation would prevent that," Jake said. "But then you'd have all the political questions of why you didn't hire a Bajoran, since you live here and work for the Bajoran government." "Not to mention, it seems like an awful lot of hassle," Kasidy said. "One of the managers at the Ministry of Commerce has kids, maybe I'll ask her what she would recommend." "Maybe you can ask who I should be interviewing for the Bajoran perspective on the negotiations, while you're at it," Jake said. …… In the end, Jake got his first contact by looking for academic connections on the negotiating team and sending out an interview request. Nemjon Lelra, Arch-Chancellor of the University of Kenda (the second-most prestigious university on Bajor), Doctor of Philology from the Ilvian University of the River (the most prestigious university on Bajor), Chair of the Institute of Historical Linguistics, and a few other impressive sounding titles that Jake didn't have time to fully research, was happy to grant him an audience. And 'grant an audience' was the right word, Jake thought, as a robed student showed him into Doctor Nemjon's receiving room. It was clearly not an office, nor a conference room, in the Federation sense. It was a large room with windows on three of the walls looking out on the gardens. The fourth wall was intricately carved, with scenes of scholars surrounding the university's emblem. Along that wall was a dais, and on that dais was a table, with Doctor Nemjon sitting in the middle of it, back to the carved wall, reading a PADD. She was an elderly woman, with immaculately styled white hair, deep wrinkles, and the sort of translucent skin the very old sometimes got. She was old enough to remember Bajor before the Occupation, maybe even old enough to have finished her schooling before the Cardassians showed up. She looked up and smiled as the student escorted Jake in. "Ah! Mister Sisko! I have been looking forward to meeting you. How kind of you to wish to share our side of the story." "Doctor Nemjon, it's an honor to meet you," Jake said. "I'm here to try and see that all sides of the story are covered, and I thought you might know the needs and wants of the Bajoran educational system better than anyone else." "Of course," Doctor Nemjon said. "Though I will note that while 'doctor' is not inaccurate, the title that you really should use is Arch-Chancellor." "I'm sorry for getting it wrong, Arch-Chancellor," Jake said. "I'm not very familiar with the titles and honorifics system in Bajoran academia, and I wasn't able to find many resources on the subject. Could your office send me a style guide?" He'd been speaking Bajoran, but he used English for the last, because he didn't know the Bajoran words for it. But the Universal Translator didn't translate it, so it must not be a concept Bajor had. "A what?" Nemjon said. "A document that has a guide to what titles are used, what they mean, and how to address people with them, and how to refer to them in writing if that's different from the way they should be spoken," Jake said. "Oh yes!" Nemjon said. "I believe we have something like that in our orientation packet for foreign students." "Actually, I'd love to see the whole packet, if it wouldn't be too much trouble," Jake said. That would kill two birds with one stone. It would be background for his article and it would be a place to start his research on whether he wanted to go to a Bajoran school. "I'll see that you get it," Nemjon said. She rose and came around the table, stepping down off the dais, robes swirling around her feet. "Now, I researched your Federation news service when the reporters showed up to the negotiations. It does seem to be an effective way of disseminating information, although I'm not sure I care for the way that internal affairs are made public for all the world to see. So I believe I know what to expect." She led the way over to a pair of upholstered chairs by the windows and sat in one, gesturing for Jake to take the other. "Great," Jake said as he sat down. "With your permission, I'll be recording this interview for my notes." Nemjon nodded. Jake tapped the 'record' button on his PADD. "Arch-Chancellor Nemjon, as I said in my interview request, I'm investigating the effect the dispute over academic oversight is having on the negotiations for Federation membership. You're a junior member of the negotiating team, can you explain what your role is?" "Certainly," Nemjon said. "My role is to represent the universities of Bajor, to see that our needs are respected in the negotiations." "What about the other schools of higher education that aren't universities?" Jake asked. "Do they get a seat at the table, or do you represent them, too?" "Schools of higher education?" Nemjon asked. "I'm not quite sure what you mean." "Schools that people go to after completing the basic level of education that all Bajorans are expected to finish," Jake said. Nemjon frowned, thinking that through. "Do you mean trade schools and lower colleges and guild schools?" "Yes," Jake said. "I'm not sure that I'd call what they do 'higher' education, unless the universities are 'highest.' Why should they need a seat at the negotiating table?" she asked. "Of course we are proud of the high quality of education in schools of all levels, but … they don't have the same weight of tradition that universities do. Nor is their work so abstract. The Federation has an excellent educational system, and I'm sure they'll be able to adapt quite well to the Federation system." She tilted her head. "That's actually one of the major sticking points, for the universities. The Federation educational system is very focused on metrics. Tests. Proving, objectively, how much a person knows about a given subject, and then ranking them against other students … and judging the university itself by how well its students do on such tests. Which is all well and good, and some subjects—including things like mechanical skills such as one would learn at a trade school—would do very well with that approach. But university education is, in the Bajoran tradition, quite different. The emphasis is on teaching how to think, not what to think. Especially in disciplines such as philosophy or literature. There is no single right way to be a philosopher or a writer; there is no technique or structure that is universal. And being able to describe the techniques and why they're useful wouldn't tell you anything about a person's ability to use those techniques or the quality of their thought. And it's quite possible for someone to create something that is flawless on a technical level, and has no soul. In fact, computers do it all the time. The aim of a Bajoran university, Mister Sisko, is to teach things that cannot be done by computer. To teach the art of our subjects, not the mere rules of them." "A commendable goal," Jake said. "How does it work in practice?" "Every student has both a professor and a senior student as a mentor," Nemjon said. "They work together to devise a course of study that suits both the student's strengths that should be nurtured, and their weaknesses that should be remedied. There are classes, of course, but also a great deal of individualized instruction with both professors and senior students. And peer study groups and peer critique are both essential parts of the system, as is research for fields in the sciences. When a professor believes a junior student in their care to be ready for promotion to senior student, they present them to the rest of the faculty, who then evaluate the student, and either agree to their promotion or give them areas to concentrate further study in. This happens again when the student is ready to matriculate. The specifics of what is required to progress to senior, and then to matriculate, are left to each department." She wrinkled her nose. "There are no set curriculums that are merely items to check off on a list. No one graduates without being worthy of being called a scholar of Bajor." "What happens when there is a conflict?" Jake asked. "When a mentor is wrong about whether a student is ready or not?" "That happens very rarely," Nemjon scoffed. "Students work with many professors besides their own mentor. When it happens that a professor is reluctant to promote a student for unworthy reasons, the rest of the faculty can exert pressure, and in certain circumstances overrule them. And of course either student or professor may request to sever the mentor relationship at any time, and the student will be taken on by another professor who may evaluate them differently. A student who believes the entire faculty is biased against them can receive an evaluation from a board of professors from other universities. Usually in such cases, the student is merely over-eager and perhaps a bit arrogant. But if they find that the student has been treated unfairly, they have a variety of possible responses, up to and including declaring themselves that the student is ready for promotion or matriculation, and the student's own university must then abide by that decision. But, again, the system very rarely breaks to that extent." Jake wasn't quite sure he believed her; the bit about tailored curriculum sounded great, and when the system worked he could see that it would provide a custom-tailored education to each student. But nothing was perfect. Still, that wasn't what his article was supposed to be about. "So, what's the specific problem with joining the Federation, for your universities? Federation policies don't usually govern internal affairs of schools." "Accreditation," Nemjon intoned. "The Federation wants us to prove—using the sort of metrics they care so much about—that our universities produce a quality education. Oh, we can arrange our own internal affairs, but in order for our scholars to be accepted at the same level as those of existing Federation universities, we would have to alter the degree requirements to fit Federation specifications. Of course I understand that there must be standards—if there aren't, there's no way of telling what schools actually turn produce scholars worthy of the name, and which don't. You can't simply go by reputation and history, because these things do change, unfortunately. And nobody wants people without qualifications to call themselves a university and give out honors people haven't earned so they can inflate their reputation without actual understanding to back it up. But still, there must be a better way to do it." She waved a hand. "The Federation's position on the whole issue is ridiculous. Before the Cardassians invaded, the Federation's university system recognized Bajoran universities as granting degrees of rough equivalence to their own. We have long-standing ties with a number of Federation planets, with regular exchanges of scholars and students, including Vulcan! There are existing reciprocal acknowledgments that should be the basis for our relationships going forward. But under the current terms the Federation is trying to insist upon, Bajoran universities would no longer be recognized unless we alter our curriculum and system of evaluation to fit within the Federation's requirements for university accreditation and degree conferral. Which is simply absurd. If our system was good enough to be accepted by the Federation when it was completely separate, why should it not now be sufficient? And to allow fitness for graduation be determined—even in part—by something so rote as test scores and objective evaluation and number of hours spent in a classroom … the very notion is an insult to our way of instruction. And every seven years we would be examined by Federation examiners to see that we are complying with their regulations and teaching with their pedagogy, not our own." Nemjon continued on, listing other points of contention, but accreditation was the main one. She required little input from him to lay out everything she thought in tedious detail. There were a few places where Jake thought she was wrong about what the practical requirements would mean for her university, and a couple of items he'd have to look up, but Federation stuff was easy to research, so it wouldn't take much time. Skeptical as he was about certain aspects of the Bajoran system, Jake thought it was pretty stupid that the Federation would recognize their worth when they were a foreign planet, and then turn around and not recognize them when they tried to join. He listened to her arguments, asked a few questions for clarification here and there, made notes of things to research further, and when she seemed to be running out of steam, he turned to a more practical question. "So," Jake said. "You've been quite thorough in explaining the reservations you have about the proposed changes to the university system that the Federation negotiating team has included in the current state of the treaty. And on the Bajoran negotiating team, you are a junior member. How much influence do you really have? What would you say are the chances they will override your recommendation and sign the treaty to join the Federation with these requirements in it?" Nemjon narrowed her eyes, slightly, and her lips curved in a slight smile. "Of course, nobody can say for certain, the team is quite large and I am, as you say, a junior member, at least in theory. But I am a member with a specific area of great importance as my sole responsibility. If everything else in the treaty was perfect, with no drawbacks whatsoever, I suppose it's possible they might ignore me. Or if the Dominion were to come charging back through the wormhole, or the Breen showed up on our doorstep with an armada, and we needed Federation protection to survive, then I would change my recommendation. Survival is more important than tradition, after all. But …" she spread her hands, "… under the present circumstances, I would be very surprised." …… Jake got a tour of the university after the interview, from one of the students. It was a lovely campus, though Jake couldn't quite picture himself studying here—everyone wore robes, and he wasn't sure he'd be comfortable in them. They weren't like the robes of Bajoran monks that he was used to; the style of tailoring was quite distinct, and there was a different color scheme, and they had hoods instead of hats. The student gave him a thorough tour of the place and then handed him over to the administrative offices, where they provided him with the foreign student orientation package and several other documents they thought might be useful. Glancing at them, Jake thought they probably would be, and wished they were publicly posted somewhere so he could have read them before the interview. In the Federation, data like this was easily available for everyone, and Starfleet had automatic access to most private or secure databases. Even if Jake, a civilian, couldn't access them, his Dad would help him out if he had a good enough reason for it and the information wasn't too sensitive. Starfleet as a whole might not have access to Bajor's private databases, but Deep Space Nine did, because it was a joint station. But Dad wasn't here to pull up information from him. Jake could have asked Colonel Kira, he supposed. Or Dax. Either would have done it, at least in this case. It just … hadn't occurred to him. He checked the messages on his PADD. There was one from Kasidy: a friend in the Ministry of Transportation had suggested he interview the Arch-Chancellor of a different university, who was apparently an up-and-comer in Bajoran academia, and might have a different perspective. Jake sent a message asking for an interview, and spent the rest of the day in the university's library at a com terminal that had a permanent hookup to the main Federation databases, looking up what the actual policies were for university accreditation and what the existing exceptions were. There were very few Federation policies that didn't have exceptions in specific cases; it was the only way to govern a society that large and diverse. Once he was done with his research, he ate dinner in one of the dining halls at the university—the food was pretty good, for institutional cooking, but it was from a different tradition than the Bajoran food they tended to get on Deep Space Nine, with less meat and more spices. Afterwards, he went to a concert put on by a group of students. It wasn't a style of music he was familiar with, but it was interesting. And he didn't get to go to many concerts; Deep Space Nine's permanent population wasn't big enough to support much in the way of music or theater groups. All in all, it was a good evening. If this was what university was like, he could see himself enjoying it. He got back to his hotel room and found a message from the guy Kasidy's contact had suggested, with an interview the day after next. Jake hadn't been planning on staying on Bajor for that long, but he put the time to good use, getting some of his research and notes into something like a rough draft. …… Chacos University of Lorojha was, in many ways, similar to the University of Kenda. There were the same sorts of buildings (though there were one or two here that had obviously been built under Cardassian rule), with lots of gardens in and around them. People walked around in academic robes, though as he was walking from the train station at the edge of campus to the administration building in the center, he did see a fair number of people in ordinary street clothes instead of robes. He felt a bit less conspicuous. At the administration building, they confirmed that Arch-Chancellor Ruce was indeed expecting him, and he was escorted to an audience hall very similar to that in Kenda. Three walls of windows, one wall of intricate art focused on the university's logo, with a dais and a long table under it, and a few seating arrangements of comfortable chairs scattered around the edges. But Ruce was waiting at one of those, rather than at the dais, and he invited Jake to join him right away. Jake did so, studying the scholar as he did. He hadn't had time to do much research on the man, just what he could dig up in the public records. And what he could dig up was a string of publications he hadn't had time to read, mostly focused on adapting the educational system as a whole to the post-Cardassian world. He'd been cited a lot in a bunch of other papers, too, and seemed to have quite a number of admirers, from what Jake could tell at a glance. He'd won a number of awards, too, both for individual writings and for work on various projects. Arch-Chancellor Ruce Vasun was much younger than Arch-Chancellor Nemjun; he'd been born and grew up during the Occupation. He was a powerfully-built man in his forties, with the scarred hands that told Jake he'd been used to do something hard, heavy, and dangerous under the Cardassians. Jake introduced himself and explained what he was here for. He summarized Nemjun's position, and asked if Ruce had any comment on the issue. Ruce considered this for a few moments before speaking. "Arch-Chancellor Nemjun is a wise and experienced scholar," he said. "And I absolutely agree with her on the value of the system we have now. It allows for us to tailor a course of study precisely to the needs and abilities of each student, and under ideal circumstances, the university is a carefully tended garden that helps the brightest minds on Bajor—and the surrounding sector—to grow and flourish. Certainly, there are many things that we should never compromise." "But?" Jake asked. There was definitely a 'but' coming. "But Arch-Chancellor Nemjun has dedicated the last decade of her life to trying to restore the university system to exactly what it was before the Cardassians came," Ruce said. "And that system, for all its many strengths, had serious flaws as well. For example, I would never have been allowed to attend university, in the old days." "Why not?" Jake asked. "My family belongs to the lowest caste," Ruce said. "Not allowed to own land, not allowed into most jobs or trades requiring any skill, in many cases not allowed to finish even secondary school, but expected to go to work as an adolescent. The Cardassians were terrible, of course; but life for my family didn't actually change all that much. It was only that under the Cardassians, most other Bajorans were suffering, too. And you may say, that's all so long ago, what does it matter that I would never have been allowed to dirty these halls with my presence a century ago. I'm here now, aren't I?" "And what would your response be to that question?" Jake asked, gamely taking the leading question when it was offered to him. This was wonderful. Not only was the whole issue one the Federation hadn't noticed yet, but he had intra-Bajoran disagreement as well. This would be a great article. "I'm here, but how many like me aren't?" Ruce said. He spread his hands. "There is still discrimination. I never personally experienced it—I was considered a brilliant, rising star from the moment I stepped foot on campus—but I saw it happen to others. Constantly. When the most average, unmemorable member of the scholarly caste gets promoted to Senior Student in under three years, and low-caste scholars of ten times their ability get passed over routinely and must take five or six years of study before reaching that same promotion—well. It's quite obvious that for all their noble words about only caring about training people to be their best, they have different expectations and different criteria for people of different castes." "Have you talked with Arch-Chancellor Nemjon about this?" Jake asked curiously. "What does she say about it?" "She tells me I'm a credit to my caste," Ruce said. "And that obviously, if the other low-caste students were as brilliant as I, they would have succeeded, so if they haven't it's proof that they are being treated fairly." He rolled his eyes. Jake winced. "You know, we used to have a caste system on Earth, too." Jake said. "Actually, we had different caste systems in different parts of the planet. But in America, where my family is from, that caste system was based on something called 'race.' Which was a combination of skin color and facial features. My Dad and I are what was called 'Black' in that system. It was the lowest caste. Our ancestors were enslaved, and it was illegal to teach us to read and write. And even after that was outlawed, there was a lot of injustice. I'm not as much of a history buff as my Dad is, but they used to say that sort of thing about us, too. That if we succeeded, we were a credit to our race, and proof that discrimination didn't exist, and if we didn't succeed, it was proof that we weren't worthy and the treatment we received was just." "That's very interesting," Ruce said. "I'd like to learn more. Did your father have any favorite books on the subject? We hear about his work as the Emissary, and as a Starfleet officer, but nothing about Sisko the man. And yet, of course, who he was as a man was what allowed him to do all the great things he did, and, Prophets willing, will continue to do." "I'll go through his library and see," Jake said. He smiled. Dad had always felt caught between his human heritage and Starfleet, and his role as the Emissary. People on either side of the species divide only ever saw half of him. It would be good to change that, in some small way. "Thank you!" Ruce said. "I don't have as much time to read for pleasure as I would like, but reading things outside my field of study is so important for spiritual and mental nourishment." "You're welcome," Jake said, and tried to drag the interview back on track. He probably shouldn't have derailed it like that. "So are you in favor of the Federation system being imposed on Bajoran universities? After all, with more weight on grades and objective evaluations, and less weight on how professors feel about their students, surely there would be less room for prejudice to affect someone's course of study." Ruce shook his head. "I'm not naïve enough to think that professors with a bias against their low-caste students will grade them on the same metric they grade their high-caste students," he said. "Outside of tests on facts memorized, any evaluation has room for mis-assessment. And rote memorization has little place in a Bajoran university. Having to put a number value on an essay's quality won't make someone miraculously more just in appraisal of its merits. It will only teach them to better justify their biases. And if all you care about are a bare recitation of facts, well, a computer can do that better than any living being." "So what do you think should be done?" Jake asked. "Oh, I have a lot of ideas about that," Ruce said. "Though whether any of them will be practical once we join the Federation will depend on a great many other factors. But! My first suggestion would be that any time a student of a low caste is to be evaluated, at least one academic from their caste should be on the panel of professors. If there isn't one at that particular university, they can bring in one from another university. It's something we do in other cases when a student might not be judged fairly, for one reason or another—a feud between their family and one or more of the professors of their university is the most traditional reason, but there are others." Jake wanted to hear more about such feuds, but that wasn't what his story was about, so he didn't ask a follow-up about that. Instead, he asked about other ideas for improving Bajor's higher education, and what Ruce thought about the Federation's system. …… Once the interview was done, Ruce walked him back to the train station personally. "I did look you up, Mr. Sisko," he said as they strolled down a tree-lined path. "And you are an excellent writer, but I notice you haven't attended university yourself. Which is curious, because I understand the Federation puts almost as much stock in education as Bajor does." "I always assumed I'd go, and probably will sooner rather than later," Jake said. "But then life kinda got in the way." "It does that, yes," Ruce said. "Have you ever thought about attending school on Bajor?" "Yeah," Jake said. "And it'd be very convenient, and you have a lot of schools with really great writing programs, which is great. But right now, I'm already working in the field. I'm a journalist, and I like doing it, and I don't want to stop doing it or take time off. And Bajor doesn't have journalism as a field, so you don't have it as a course of study that I've found." "We don't," Ruce confirmed. "And you don't have provisions for part time study or distance learning, so it would be hard to continue working as a journalist and go to school at the same time," Jake said. "On the other hand, if I go back to school on Earth, I definitely couldn't keep reporting on Bajoran matters, and that's where all my knowledge and contacts are. There are a lot of journalists on Earth—I'd be a small fish in a big pond. Here, I'm the leader in the field." He hadn't mentioned any of this to Grandpa or Kasidy, or even Dad before he joined the Prophets, because he knew what they'd say: that was short-term thinking, he had the rest of his life to be a journalist, and education was important. But he had the rest of his life for education, too. And he didn't want to leave the field and go get a degree, only to find out when he got back that others had taken his spot and he'd have to start from the bottom again. Ruce hummed. "You know, the great benefit of the Bajoran system—the lack of a set curriculum that so distresses the Federation—is that we can tailor a course of study to a particular student's interests and skills," he pointed out. "And when we don't have the particular expertise needed here, we do collaborate with other universities on other planets. The Vulcan Academy of Arts and Social Wisdom is particularly receptive to long-term partnerships. We just had a student matriculate who had two mentors: one on the faculty here, and one at the Vulcan Academy. I believe she took some of her classes over subspace, and worked closely with her Vulcan mentor over subspace, though they never met in person. We might not know journalism, but we know writing, and we could find a mentor at a Federation university for the things specific to your field." "That sounds amazing," Jake said. "I never thought of that." "Why would you?" Ruce said. "But it is a possibility, and having read your essay 'Nor the Battle to the Strong,' I think you would do very well with Doctor Zaje as your mentor." "I'll consider it," Jake said as they arrived at the train station. "Safe journeys, Mr. Sisko," Ruce said. "I hope we meet again." "Likewise, Arch-Chancellor," Jake said. …… Jake spent the train ride back to the capital organizing his notes from the second interview and figuring out how to re-arrange the article to accommodate them. He got so engrossed in work that he forgot to eat on the train, and had to grab something quick and greasy in the station to eat on the way to the large Cardassian-built office building where most of the ministers had their offices. He got a five minute interview with the head of the negotiating team—five minutes was all he needed to get a quote from the article—and then to a hotel room where he finished a rough draft of the article, sent it off to a few Federation universities to see if they had any comment on it, and collapsed into bed. The next morning he checked his messages: most had either not replied yet or sent back a polite 'no comment.' The Vulcan Academy of the Arts and Social Wisdom, however, had a long response from the head of their interplanetary collaboration unit. Jake skimmed it. It was fairly long-winded (unsurprising), but it didn't come down on either side of the issue. The interesting thing it pointed out, however, was that the basic Federation evaluation criteria and guidelines for higher education had been hammered out at the Founding and largely ignored thereafter. It reflected a four-way compromise between Humans, Vulcans, Andorians, and Tellarites … and every other planet that entered later had been shoehorned in willy-nilly, on the assumption that the Federation system was the best way to do things. It ended by saying that perhaps the Federation system was due for a reappraisal. Jake didn't have room for the whole thing in his article, but he summarized the most important bit and added the closest thing to a short, pithy quote in the whole response. Maybe he could get his editor to include it as a sidebar. After an hour of writing and editing, the article was in much better shape. Jake could fuss with it more—he could always fuss with his writing more, he sometimes got stuck in edit mode, chasing the impossibility of perfection—but he had an appointment. He had an actual press conference to attend this morning. They weren't a Bajoran tradition, so he'd only rarely been to them; but the Federation Ambassador was having a question and answer session with the three Federation journalists covering the talks, and it was open to anybody, and Jake was going. …… The press conference was in an ordinary room in the Ministry building, a small room with no windows, that could have been on the station. It had that same vibe of "Cardassian aesthetics, with Bajoran and Federation elements to lighten it up." The podium with the Federation seal only added to the effect. Jake recognized the three Federation civilians already in the room as the journalists covering the talks. They glanced over at him, but showed no interest, continuing to talk amongst themselves. Well, he supposed this was normal for them. They'd been here for months, the talks were stalled, and every week someone on the Federation staff gave a press conference about what had been accomplished (or not accomplished) that week. Lately it hadn't been very much. Jake was lucky; the job of talking to the press was rotating between the Ambassador and his two top aides. And today, it was Ambassador Eshes ch'Shratis chanself. The ambassador was right on time. Chan walked briskly into the room with a PADD in his hand and took chans place at the podium with the ease of long habit. Chan was wearing a yellow suit that was of a color fashionable on Bajor right now, and which contrasted nicely with chan's blue skin. Eshes scanned the room and blinked when chan saw Jake, but went right into chans prepared speech. Apparently nothing of note had been accomplished that week, but chan was adept at saying nothing at great length. At last it was time for questions. The other reporters had a few—nothing terribly interesting, because nothing interesting had happened—which the ambassador answered at just as great a length as chan's initial speech. Jake kept raising his hand, but chan called on him only after answering questions from the three reporters chan knew. "Jake Sisko, Federation News Service," Jake said, when he was called on. "Ambassador, what is your position on the Bajorans dragging out the negotiations because of the university issue? Is there room for compromise with Federation educational standards?" "University issue?" Ambassador Eshes said, squinting at him. "What university issue?" "Bajor is extremely proud of its universities," Jake explained. "They've put a lot of effort into restoring them after the Cardassians left, and the professor on the Bajoran negotiating team—Arch-Chancellor Nemjan Lelra of the University of Kenda—is absolutely opposed to the imposition of Federation-style academic metrics onto the Bajoran universities. And the rest of the team is listening to her. That's one reason things have stalled. What do you think about the issue?" "I have a great deal of respect for Doctor Nemjan," Ambassador Eshes said. Not, Jake noticed, enough respect to have learned her proper title. "And certainly, we have had many discussions about how best to handle the issue of university accreditation and the standards required for various degrees," Eshes went on. "But it hasn't been affecting the rest of the negotiations. Things have stalled based on a variety of other factors, which I have just finished explaining." "That's not what Minister Jekkuk said, when I asked him about it," Jake said, speaking quickly before Eshes could list all the factors (again). "When did you speak to the Minister?" Eshes asked. Chans antennae quivered but didn't quite draw back. "Yesterday, after the close of negotiations," Jake said. "Would you like to hear what she said?" "Yes, please," Eshes said. Jake had the audio clip cued up and ready to go. He set his PADD's speakers to max and hit play. Minister Jekkuk's voice filled the room. "The issue of university governance is not the only issue at stake, of course; but it is the most serious one on which no fruitful discussion has been possible. Federation intransigence on this issue, so core to our peoples' history and tradition, has certainly caused me to reconsider the benefits of Federation membership. If they treat our great wisdom-leaders thus when they are negotiating, how badly will they treat them—and the rest of us—once we have joined?" The clip ended, and the room was silent. Eshes stared at him, antennae low. "Any comment, Ambassador?" Jake asked. "No," Eshes said, and walked out of the room. The other reporters went a bit nuts. …… "How'd you get Jekkuk to talk?" the Tellarite journalist demanded. They'd calmed down, a bit, after that first rush when they'd been asking so many questions at the same time that Jake couldn't hear any of them. "I asked," Jake said. "You're the Emissary's son, aren't you? Nepotism." He snorted derisively. "Maybe a little," Jake said. "But I think it was more that I started with Arch-Chancellor Nemjun, and asked for the Minister's comment after I'd already talked with her. And used the right title. 'Doctor' isn't inaccurate—it's just lesser, and less formal. And unlike the Federation, Bajorans have different words for different types of doctorates, and the universities are stuck up that their degrees are more prestigious than degrees from the other schools that the Federation also calls doctorates. So being called a Doctor in Bajoran—using the correct word—is informal but not bad. Calling her 'doctor' in Federation Standard, in Bajoran eyes, is demoting her to the status of someone who went to a trade school or something. I've got a whole information packet on stuff like that, if you want it." "Yes, please," the Betazoid said. "Why isn't that publicly posted anywhere? I knew the Bajorans got prickly whenever she was addressed, but I didn't know why. It's not like anyone was trying to insult her." Jake shrugged. "It wasn't publicly posted anywhere, but I asked her university and they gave me the information packet they give new students from off-world, and that's part of it. I don't know why nobody said anything." "So what tipped you off?" the human reporter asked. "Colonel Kira, commander of Deep Space Nine, gets the Bajoran government's internal reports," Jake said. "She mentioned the issue, and I took it from there." "A good friend to have," the Betazoid said. "What other friends have you made while researching this subject?" Jake opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. "You're reporters, aren't you?" he said. "Get your own sources." The human laughed. "I like you, Jake Sisko. Will you be around for drinks tonight?" "Nah," Jake said. "My shuttle back to the station leaves in three hours." "He swoops in, scoops the lot of us, and swans back out without even having a drink," the Tellarite said. "Next time, you watch yourself, I'll be scooping you." "You can try," Jake said. …… Jake found a café and ate lunch while adding Ambassador Eshes' 'no comment.' Then he found a public comm terminal and sent his article off to the Federation News Service. He got to the shuttleport in time to buy a ticket for the late-afternoon shuttle to the station, and settled into his seat. The trip took almost six hours—the ancient shuttle, stuffed to the gills with passengers and cargo, was not as fast as a runabout, and Bajor's current place in its orbital cycle took it far from the station. Jake used the time to poke through his father's history library. He found some about racial categories and history in the United States that he thought Arch-Chancellor Ruce would like, and a general primer on Earth history for background, but hesitated before sending them. Should he send a clean copy, or one with his father's notes included? In some ways, he wanted someone to see his father as the man who read history, not the Emissary. But there was no guarantee that anyone else would see what Jake saw in those notes. Ruce seemed nice, but … Jake didn't know him well enough. He sent the books clean, without the notes. …… Kasidy was off on a cargo run when he reached the station, so the Sisko quarters were empty and echoing. Jake holed up in his bedroom and checked his messages—and found to his dismay that his article had been rejected. He called up his editor, and got the night-shift editor instead. "Nobody in the Federation cares about Bajoran academics," the night-shift editor said. "It's about the negotiations for Bajoran entry," Jake said. "And there are a lot of people who care about that. The academics is why the talks have been stalled for so long." "Are you sure about that?" "Did you even read it?" Jake demanded. "I've got the university Arch-Chancellor on the negotiating team saying that they're not going to sign a treaty she's not happy with unless the Dominion comes boiling through the wormhole again, and Minister Jekkuk basically said she was right! And I've got a comment from the Vulcan Academy of Arts and Social Wisdom on the whole thing." "Fine, I'll take another look." "Do that," Jake insisted. "There were other reporters around when I asked Ambassador Eshes for a comment, I'd rather the story gets published before one of them files a story on the issue." …… Once the call was over, Jake wandered out into the living room to get dinner from the replicator. He didn't take his food back to his room, because that would only highlight that Dad wasn't here. In the Sisko home, meals were eaten together whenever possible, and even when it was not, you ate properly at the table. The last time he'd been so alone in his quarters, it had been during the Dominion occupation of the system. But Dad had been alive and corporeal then, just on the other side of the sector, doing his best to come back and retake the system. There was no Dominion, now, hanging over everything. Jake didn't have to worry about saying or doing the wrong thing and being executed as an example. Which meant he had more time to notice how empty things were. Jake ate his dinner, and thought about Ruce's offer of a custom-designed journalism degree. And spending a few years on that beautiful, tree-lined campus. It sounded a lot more attractive now than it had when he was in the middle of chasing down people to interview and getting to ambush an ambassador with questions he wasn't expecting. …… "That was a great article, Jake," Nog said the next day over lunch. Jake had been reading in an out-of-the-way corner of the Promenade, preferring the hustle and bustle to the tomb-like quiet of the Sisko quarters. Nog had spotted him and dragged him to the Replimat for lunch. "Thank you," Jake said. "What was your favorite bit?" Nog shrugged. "I think it's that you clearly laid out the benefits and drawbacks of both the Federation system and the Bajoran one, so people can draw their own conclusions about what they think about them," he said. "And what would have to change to make Bajor fit the current Federation system as-is. It really showed what's at stake." "Good," Jake said. "I worked hard on that bit." "I would have talked more about who profits from the current systems, and how," Nog said. "Nobody profits," Jake said. "The Federation doesn't work like that." "Benefits, then," Nog said. "Not all profits are financial." "True." Jake shrugged. It was a good point, and he'd keep it in mind for the future. "I think it's all a stupid fuss over nothing, anyway," Nog said, "but if the Bajorans think it's important enough to hold up the negotiations, it's worth paying attention to." "Yeah," Jake said. "Arch-Chancellor Nemjon made it sound like the Federation system was completely unreasonable, but we've got a lot of good schools ourselves." "From your article, it seems like Bajoran universities aren't very … practical," Nog said. "Not like Starfleet, which balanced theory with training on how to handle real-life problems. A little dose of having to apply their high-minded rhetoric to something a little more concrete might be good for them." "What's higher education like on Ferenginar?" Jake asked. "Expensive," Nog said. "And the quality varies—if you're not paying through the ear, you're probably not getting very good teachers. And they don't tend to spend much time at all on theoretical stuff, unless it's necessary to understand something that might turn a profit. I could never have afforded a school worth going to on Ferenginar, and I wouldn't have learned as much about myself and the galaxy, anyway." "So you liked Starfleet Academy?" Jake asked. "There were good parts and bad parts," Nog said. "It was a lot harder being the only Ferengi there than it was being the only Ferengi kid on the station. But it helped me grow and learn about who I am and how I relate to the people around me, and what I care about, in addition to the stuff about engineering and piloting and combat and how to handle first contact." Jake hummed thoughtfully. Nog's comm badge chirped. "Nog here," he said. "Lieutenant, I'm sorry to bother you at lunch, but there's been an accident on the docking ring," the Ops officer on duty said. "No casualties, but it's messed up all our docking and cargo transshipping schedules, and you're needed to sort things out." Nog sighed. "I'll be right there," he said. "Can we do something this evening?" Jake asked. "Maybe something on the holosuites?" Nog grimaced. "I'd love to, but I have a double shift," he said. "One of my people is sick, and another had a family emergency and had to leave, and we're still not back at pre-War staffing levels yet so we don't have coverage for emergencies. Hopefully things will calm down soon." "All right," Jake said, disappointed. "Well, good luck." …… Kassidy was gone for almost two weeks this time, and Jake spent the time writing a few other articles—mostly puff pieces—and responses to comments on the university article. There were four different editorials on the subject of Federation university accreditation in major news outlets by the end of the week, which was a much stronger response than Jake had gotten to any of his articles since the war had ended. Grandpa sent a message with congratulations on the article, and complaints that arranging travel to Bajor was almost as complicated now as it had been with a war on. The proposed visit was now a certainty, but it might take a while, because his grandfather was going to stop by Proxima to visit Uncle David first. When Jake wasn't working, he read books from his father's library. He'd sorted them by which ones he hadn't already read, and then by which ones had the most comments. Dad had been a very well-read man, and Jake found them all interesting. It helped him feel a little closer to his father, but it didn't help the quarters feel any less lonely. "How was your cargo run?" Jake asked when Kasidy got back. "It's always good to be out among the stars, with no other concerns than running the ship," Kasidy said. "Congratulations on the article, by the way." "Thanks," Jake said. "It seems to have touched a nerve. I've actually gotten a request to appear on a panel discussion about it." "Did you accept?" Kasidy asked. "Are you kidding?" Jake said incredulously. "Everything I know on the subject ended up in the article. I'm not exactly an expert on Bajoran education, just the only person who asked the right questions to the right people." "Don't sell yourself short," Kasidy said. "That's probably the most important thing a journalist can do, I'd think." "I'm not selling myself short," Jake said. "I'm just saying that knowing what questions to ask is not the same thing as knowing enough on the subject to talk intelligently about it on a panel discussion. I've never even been to university." "Is that something you're interested in?" Kasidy asked. "Your dad said something about a school back on Earth, after the war was over?" Jake rolled his eyes. "Not you too. Grandpa wants me to come back to Earth for college. I don't want to give up being a reporter now that I've got my foot in the door. And if Dad does come back in a year—or yesterday, whatever that means—I'd rather be closer when he shows up."  He paused. "Actually, I've been thinking about going to school on Bajor. They don't have journalism programs, but they do customized courses of study and they've got some really good writing programs. And because they focus more on individualized learning than on taking set classes, it'd be easy to make time for reporting." "Sounds like it's right up your alley," Kasidy said. …… The next day they spent working together in the living room. Jake had a bunch of PADDs spread out around him on the couch, and Kasidy took over the table with her paperwork. "You don't usually spend this much time on administrative stuff in a single day," Jake noted that afternoon. "I wasn't able to get as much done during the run as I usually would, and we're shipping out again tomorrow," Kasidy said absently without looking up. "Tomorrow?" Jake said. "But you just got back!" "And in a few months I'll be taking a year of parental leave," Kasidy said. "I've got a great crew, but there's some things I like doing myself, and there's a lot to do to get ready." She was right, of course, but that didn't make the thought any easier. Jake sighed. Kasidy looked up, frowning. "Is something wrong, Jake?" "These quarters are really empty with both you and Dad gone, is all," Jake said. "Ah," Kasidy said. She sat back in her chair. "I noticed the same thing, when you left for Bajor for your article. But I had a cargo run to make, and the ship really hasn't changed since before the war, so it felt very homey." "I've thought about asking for quarters of my own, but space is at a premium on the station," Jake said. With the war ended and trade with the Gamma Quadrant resumed (even on a limited basis), the station was a very busy place. "You could probably get something if you really wanted, but you might have to trade on your Dad's status as Emissary," Kasidy said. "And it didn't help that Nog was really busy and didn't have time to hang out," Jake said. "That's actually one of the reasons that university on Bajor sounds so good right now—a different setting, but close enough I could still visit the station pretty easily, and see you and the baby and hang out with Nog. And enough work to keep me really busy." Kasidy considered this. "I think you'd do well in university, and a change of environment might be good for you," she said. "But also, you'll get more out of it if you're going to school because you want it, not because you're trying to escape from something else." "I just don't know where else I'd go, on Bajor," Jake said. "I know I don't want to live on Earth, like Grandpa wants me to." "There's the house," Kasidy said. "The construction crew is going to be breaking ground next month. You could go and keep an eye on the whole process, and then move in when it's done." "You're going ahead with it?" Jake said, cocking his head." Kasidy shrugged. "I love your father, but I'm not going to put my life on hold waiting for him. Being able to go outside and play outdoors is good for babies and small children. And I could do with a change, myself—and even after I'm done with parental leave, I don't have to base myself here on the station. I don't trade through the wormhole very often, so for most things being based on Bajor itself would be at least as handy. I live here because it's where Ben was stationed. But he's not, any longer." "Yeah," Jake said. He thought about that for a bit. "I think … I wouldn't mind helping build the house, but I wouldn't want to live there. For me, it'd feel like … like I was just treading water, waiting for Dad to come back. I don't want to put my life on hold, either." "He wouldn't want that, for either of us," Kasidy said. "Would going to university feel like you were moving forward?" "I think it would," Jake said. "I really think it would."

[brooklynbear32]

Chapter 5: Dinner

Pairing: Chris Evans/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Read in full on AO3 or see the tumblr masterlist

It takes quite a while for you and Chris to make it out of his trailer. After making out leisurely for some time, you eventually pull away, going to the bathroom like you always do out of a phobia of bladder infections.

You stare at yourself in the small mirror. You look fairly debauched. You've got a small hickey blooming on your neck near your left ear and your lips are swollen. Uh, the lips on your mouth, that is. You can't see your labia but it does feel tender, too.

God. You'd really done it. You had sex with Chris Evans. You almost high five yourself in the mirror. Damn, girl! Well done!

And the stuff he'd said to you. Guh. Hearing him describe all the things he wanted to do to you wound you up almost as much as the way he touched you.

But did he mean it? It's almost too good to be possible, that you could get to have sex with Chris Evans, not just once, but enough times to do those things he talked about. That he'd even want to do all of that with you. To you.

The more you think about it, the more you think you'd better try to not get your hopes up. He probably just got caught up in it, and when you open the door, he'll make some kind of self-deprecating joke and let you down easy. You'll be able to work together better now that you’ve cleared the air, and you're pretty sure he won't tell anybody or try to embarrass you. He's too good of a guy for that. In no time at all, you'll see pictures of him online with yet another gorgeous actress on his arm. Just like it should be.

Best to look at the bright side: you've got a lifetime's supply of material to think about when getting off now. Maybe someday you'll find a guy and get to teach him how to tilt your hips up just like how Chris did, driving you wild. Yup. This was a good experience and you don't need it to continue to be able to feel good about it.

You take a deep breath, trying really hard to convince yourself of that. Okay. Time to go back out there. You don't want him to think you're having some kind of crisis or something.

You step out of the bathroom. Chris is sitting on the edge of the bed. He's changed out of his costume and into his own clothes, but he still looks fairly sex-rumpled. He smiles at you fondly, not leering at your naked body, but appreciating the sight of you, like viewing a painting or a sunset. You decide to enjoy it while it lasts.

"I was thinking…" He says, running his hand through his messy hair. It doesn't do much to tidy it.

"Always a bad idea." You interrupt, teasing him without giving it a second thought.

"Har har," He replies dryly, but he's still smiling at you sweetly. "I was thinking I owe you dinner. It's a little bit backwards, but what do you say?"

"Really?" You ask, a little surprised. "You don't have to feel obligated. I'm a big girl. This was fun but I'll be okay if you don't want to make it into a big deal."

You start getting dressed, wanting an excuse to look away from his face, in case he takes the out that you've offered him.

"I thought we had more questions for each other." Chris replied, his tone flirtatious again.

You look up at him as you pull your panties on. He's giving you the filthy smile from earlier, but is there something underneath? Could it be disappointment?

"Sure." You answer cautiously, "It's just - sometimes people get talking during sex, you know? They say things that are super hot in the moment, but maybe they don't actually mean it all once things cool off."

He's frowning now. You're putting your bra back on, looking for your tank top, trying not to read into his expression.

"I get it." You continue, trying to mean it. "You can just kiss me on the cheek, tell me you had a great time, and ask me if I want you to call an Uber."

"Is that what you want?" Chris asks, his eyebrows furrowed.

You blink. "An Uber?"

"No. Or, uh, I guess, yes. I mean - do you want me to send you home, or do you want to go to dinner?"

You blink again. "I don't want you to feel you have -"

"What do you want, Sunshine?" Chris interrupts you. He stands up and walks over to you. Fuck, he's so tall. He places one big hand on your hip and looks you in the eye. "I'm not offering because I feel obligated. I want to take you to dinner but I have no idea what you want."

Oh. Oh, fuck. You were so intent on playing it cool that you took it too far and now he thinks you're not interested. 

"I want to!" You say quickly. "Yes, please. I'd like that very much. I just didn't–"

"Uh-huh." Chris interrupts again. "I heard. You didn't want me to feel obligated. How about you let me worry about what I want, and you focus on what you want? Can we just be honest with each other like that?"

He's so sincere, so kind. You can't believe you thought he'd just toss you out, "pump and dump" you, as the saying goes.

"Yeah, we can do that. Sorry about everything." He wants honesty. You can do that. "This has been incredible and I guess I was just trying to prepare myself for being pushed away, but all it did was push you away instead. I won't do that again."

Chris leans down - God, he towers over you - and kisses you gently on your sore lips. Your mouth, that is.

"Look, we just had some great sex. Really great sex." Chris waggles his eyebrows suggestively at you. "And now I'm hungry. Let's go get something to eat and we'll see if we have fun together when we aren't having amazing sex. Okay?"

"Sounds good." You say, smiling at him and stretching up on your toes to kiss him again. "Where should we go for dinner?"

"Hmm, I'm not sure." Chris answers. "I don’t think I know of any restaurants that serve our craft services’ chocolate mousse."

You laugh, touched that he remembers how much you love that dessert.

"I don't think I need mousse for dinner," you tease him. "I've had plenty of decadence today already."

He laughs, and gets that mischievous smile on his face again. "Yeah? You all maxed out on pleasure for one day?" He rubs the bare skin of your stomach with his thumb.

"I didn't say that…" You flirt back, "But I do need to eat something before round two, so you better let me finish getting dressed."

Chris huffs a dramatic sigh, but moves his hand away, and gestures as if to say, "Go ahead."

After a bit more discussion, Chris decides to take you to a small restaurant he's been to before. He tells you about the pesto gnocchi he's had there and your stomach grumbles in anticipation. 

When you get to the restaurant, the hostess greets the two of you, and takes you to a table tucked into a corner, out of view of most of the restaurant. You and Chris chit chat about the menu and he tells you the story of how he learned way too late in life that rosé wine doesn’t actually include roses as an ingredient.

“Is it really such a ridiculous assumption?” He asks, as you laugh at him. He’s laughing at himself, too, though. “I thought it was like rose water - but wine! I’m a beer guy! I think I really would have unscathed if that awful senator hadn’t asked what “notes” I could detect. I didn’t know if rosé is stored in barrels or whatever so I couldn’t just say some bullshit like I could “feel” the oakiness, the way I normally would - so I said that the roses must have been exceptionally vibrant.”

You’re laughing so hard you’ve started wheezing, but you take pity on him by telling him about the time when you, straight out of college, had confused two bald guys with glasses that came by your work - for six months before someone corrected you.

You laugh your way through some shared bruschetta, and then you order the promised gnocchi. You both dig in when your dinners arrive, the conversation hitting its first lull since you sat down. As you come up for air, Chris insists you try his carnitas tacos, and you joke that you’re going to eat both the rest of his meal and your own.

“Well, you sure did work up an appetite earlier.” Chris teases you.

You blush, and not from the spice of the tacos. 

“You know, “ you say, stabbing a gnocchi with your fork, “I feel almost like I drew the short straw with our… activities earlier.”

“You do, huh?” Chris asks, clearly picking up on your teasing tone. “You weren’t exactly complaining through your two orgasms.”

You laugh. “Sure, but I didn’t actually get a single piece of your clothes off you. You didn’t even take your shoes off, for fuck’s sake! I got to sleep with Chris Evans and I didn’t even get to  touch his abs or see a single one of his tattoos? It’s just sad really.”

“Well, I’m sure that a private tour of the Evans tattoo collection could be arranged later.” Chris says, and he tugs slightly at the neckline of his shirt, giving you just a glimpse of his collarbone quote.

“Oh, I’ve seen that one. Big deal.” You flirt back, pretending the familiar sight doesn’t still get to you. “You’ve shown it off so many times I doubt there’s anyone who hasn’t seen it. I bet that half of America can recite that Tolle quote because of you.”

“Well, which ones have you been wanting to get a look at?” Chris asks, and - yup, you can tell that this is turning him on. Good.

“The ones on your stomach,” you answer, with no hesitation. “Your video where you backflip into your pool - do you have any idea what that did to me? Seeing all that ink but not clearly enough to know what your new pieces were? How fucking ripped you are, even when you’re not filming something that requires it? How effortlessly you move your body, even doing something like a backflip?”

“Check, please.” Chris jokes, reaching a hand in the air as if to flag down a server. “You trying to rush us out of this lovely restaurant, Sunshine? You don’t want to stay and enjoy my company some more, linger over dessert and coffee?”

You catch his eye, pick up the last piece of gnocchi in your bowl, and put it delicately into your mouth. You hold his gaze as you chew, swallow. 

“I’m done my dinner.” You say, with an easy shrug. “I do want to enjoy your company more, and I definitely want to linger over something…” 

“Fine by me, “ Chris says, shoving the rest of his last taco in his mouth. It’s not especially attractive, but it sure is endearing. 

He flags a waiter down, for real this time, and then drives you back to his hotel. 

Taglist: @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

[void-talking-to-the-void]

Jambalaya

A point of extreme frustration: I've been a teacher for more than ten years now and I have always said that we aren't really necessary. We're the conscience, someone to feel obligated to, someone who's there to provide the motivation to the student or, in other words, kick and jab them into studying. There aren't really good and bad teachers - though, of course, there're awful - it isn't rocket science.

Not sure I can hold this view any longer, because right now, in my search of teachers, I fucking wish for a time travelling machine to exist, you see, I need it, I'll visit that distant future where I have already conquered the language and pay myself from the future to teach myself from the present, it fucking seems there isn't anybody else to do it the way that actually works for me. Or anybody, really, anybody.

I wonder, really wonder, how fucking hard is it to speak at the lesson? It's exceptionally easy to offer speaking as advantage you have as a teacher, it's easy to promise the poor student they will speak, both at the lessons and in real life, but then the lesson comes, one hour passes - and I've barely said a word.

I WANNA SEE IF YOU CAN READ AND WRITE.

OH, YOU CAN READ AND WRITE SO WELL, UHHH... LET'S READ AND WRITE SOME MORE!

Jesus Christ.

Also, the book. It too provides some frustration.

This I have also proposed many, many times: quit writing about rape in passing, without deep concern, to drive the plot or to establish character, just fucking quit. Please, write about rape only when rape is the main topic, when you, the author, want to invite us, the readers, to contemplate the complexity of this subject, to feel and think and condemn all those endless types of pain.

Not that anybody's ever listened, yeah.

So I'd be reading a novel about an anarchistic physicist and there'd be a scene, which, in the beginning, promised me so much. He hasn't consumed alcohol before, people on his planet don't. But he consumes it now, and he doesn't know he's drunk, so the alcohol, the people who're used to it around him, his own mind, all of these things take a forceful hold on him, while cheering, laughing, seeing nothing wrong, and I am all in. I want this conversation about rape coming in so, so many different forms. About the attitudes that almost always coincide with it, this weird kind of happy flippancy, about the vulnerability of the person who is raped and the prevalence of rape just about everywhere, I want this shit.

But do I get it?

Nah. No way.

There is this dark bit - maybe, only in my mind - and then the woman, who has brought him into her own room, without explaining anything about being drunk, but with her own agenda, then it is her who's raped - for no fucking reason whatsoever. The anarchistic physicist, on whose planet, I was told, rape is soooo uncommon because there is sexual freedom - as if it's abstinence that begets rape - this physicist attempts to assault the woman, because he_thought_she_wanted_to (because he wanted to) and hey, by the way, her saying no, fighing against it, excites him even more!

Hurray.

As for the sexual freedom, I don't quite get how in a sexually free society these two passages could occupy adjacent pages:

"Hell," he said aloud. Pravic was not a good swearing language. It is hard to swear when sex is not dirty and blasphemy does not exist.

Meanwhile the double room was pretty well justified by the succession of men that passed through Bunub's door, a different man every night, as if Bunub were a roaring girl of seventeen.

Hard, is it? See how easy it was for you.

Good literature, good use of sarcasm, but shitty, fucking shitty morals.

[givemearmstopraywith]

r/adical f/eminism is simply the branch of feminism that believes we need to radically re-order society to remove male supremacy from its structure. i am begging my young people to embrace this. i am begging you to reappropriate their words from t/erfs because cishet men are brainwashing you. patriarchy is brainwashing you into thinking bimbotok trad wife dress like a bratz doll tiktok is empowerment when all its really doing is giving the patriarchy what it wants. you are worth more than what patriarchy defines you as. it was literally andrea dworkin who wrote in 1974 (warning of outdated language, but please remember this was 1974):

Work with transsexuals, and studies of formation of gender identity in children provide basic information which challenges the notion that there are two discrete biological sexes. That information threatens to transform the traditional biology of sex difference into the radical biology of sex similarity.

catherine mckinnon said in 2015:

I always thought I don’t care how someone becomes a woman or a man; it does not matter to me. It is just part of their specificity, their uniqueness, like everyone else’s. Anybody who identifies as a woman, wants to be a woman, is going around being a woman, as far as I’m concerned, is a woman.

john stoltenberg, andrea dworkin’s longtime partner also said in 2015:

Whatever individual trans folks’ political views, their existence is threatening the conservatism of sex essentialism across a broad spectrum of sex-and-gender fundamentalists. And in this respect, I believe, trans folks are on today’s front lines.

r/adical f/eminism is trans inclusive! but we are losing access to the very foundation of what allowed women- all women- to break out of the patriarchy because of t/erfs dividing us. the fact that apparently not a single post on this website about beauty womanhood objectification and criticism of current social beauty norms is not written by a t/erf is so fucking disheartening. call me crazy but we NEED r/adical f/eminism in inclusive spaces. we NEED to separate trans exclusion from r/adical f/eminism, because at its core radical feminism was not a trans-exclusive movement.

any form of r/adical f/eminism that does not include trans people is not feminism at all. it denies itself by its own existence. t/erfs are not “feminists.” they are bigots. and the fact that t/erfs have overwhelming destroyed the work of r/adical f/eminism for their own ridiculous and nefarious beliefs so that the upcoming generations of young women- both trans and cis- cannot find a foothold in anti-cishet male, anti-patriarchy teaching breaks my heart. 

[oneiriad]

Would you like to hear the fairytale about The Princess Who Became a Man?

I assume you do, if you keep reading, so...

Anyway, this is apparently a not-uncommon fairytale with variants across Europe and further abroad (a Romanian version comes with dragon slaying, just because), but this particular version of the fairytale is Danish, collected by the folklorist Evald Tang Kristensen in Jutland in the late 19th century, and published in one of his collections.

And I thought, you know, maybe I should translate this for fun, but no. It’s a fairytale. It’s an oral, traditional fairytale.

There’s a proper way of doing these things, right? So this is what I’m going to do: I’m going to retell the story.

Once upon a time there was a king and a queen, and they had a daughter. The queen was very beautiful and so was their daughter, the princess.

As the princess grew up, alas, her mother died - as mothers are prone to do in fairytales. The court urged the king to re-marry, because he only had a daughter and he’d need a son to inherit the kingdom, but he refused. After all, what woman would ever compare to his beautiful queen?

Or he refused until the day the princess decided it was time to go through her late mother’s wardrobe and was trying on some of her clothes, when the king walked in. Here, at last, was a woman as beautiful as his late queen, and he instantly decided to wed her.

“Father, you can’t be serious?!” said the princess, but try as she might to talk him out of it, he was adamant. The king would marry the princess and that was that.

Once she realized that he was entirely serious, she decided to run away. So one dark night she slipped out of the castle and into the woods.

As soon as her father the king noticed that his bride to be was gone, he sent his two hunting hounds to chase her. As the princess sees them approaching she takes out her knife and cuts off her breasts - one, two - and throws them to the hounds, one each, and the hounds grab her breasts and run back home with them.

Leaving the now injured princess to stagger through the woods. She finds some moss and puts on her wounds to stop the blood, then staggers further along.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been walking when she comes upon a tiny cabin. An old man steps out of the cabin and takes one look at her: “Child, get inside - you look awful.”

The old man from the forest tended her injuries, and when she got better she stayed with him, as he promised to teach her everything he knew - and so he did, dressing her in men’s clothes and teaching her hunting and how to use a gun, until she was a better shot than anybody.

Finally came the time when the old man told her that he had nothing more to teach her. “Now leave the forest that way,” he told her, “ and you’ll find a royal castle. Go ask them for work as a huntsman. But if you’re ever in need, all you’ll have to do is think of me.”

So she went and got the job as royal huntsman, and did it well. But the king of that castle had a daughter, and of course that daughter went and fell in love with the handsome young huntsman. They became friendly and a wedding date was set.

But at this court there was a knight, Sir Red, and he wanted the princess for himself. So on their wedding night he sneakily snuck into their bedchamber and hid under the bed, hoping to get something juicy no doubt from their pillow talk.

The happy couple goes to bed, and of course at this point the young huntsman has to explain to his bride the princess, that actually, he’s a princess as well. This does not seem to particularly disturb the princess bride - they come to the agreement that that’s nobody’s business but theirs and they’ll live happily together just fine.

After the newlyweds have gone to sleep, Sir Red sneaks out. Now he’s got ammunition, and the next morning, when the court comes to congratulate the couple, he makes a throwaway remark where the king can hear it.

“It’s such a beautiful thing to behold,” says Sir Red, “how even a same sex couple can love one another.”

Later, when Sir Red and the king were alone, the king demanded that he explain that comment, and Sir Red explained that, well, the king’s new son-in-law just happened to be a woman.

At first the king probably laughed him off, but Sir Red persisted. The king could easily see for himself. Just gather the entire court - most of which had been partying hard into the night - and command them all to go bathe in the nearby river, and the naked truth would reveal itself.

So the king commanded - because the court was probably a bit ripe anyway, he could always justify to himself - and the court went and off came the clothes and into the water people splashed. Except the new prince, who was so strangely reluctant, tugging slowly at the lacings on his clothes, and thinking of the old man from the forest, because now, oh now he was in need.

Suddenly a magnificent stag came running, dashing straight into the river, and the king shouted “Grab it, grab it,” and the huntsman/prince went after it, because he was a huntsman, after all, and besides he was the only one still dressed. So he runs after the stag as it disappears behind a small hill, and as he follows suddenly the stag is gone, and instead there is the old man.

“From this moment forth,” said the old man, “you’re a man, and you can freely walk back there and take your bath. But you must promise me this in exchange: your firstborn child.”

And so the prince promised. What choice did he have?

When he came home and explained to the princess, she was not best pleased, but a word’s a word - and about a year later, when the princess gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, the prince took the child and went into the woods to seek the old man of the forest.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” the old man goes. “Bring it outside where I’ve got an axe and a chopping block.”

And so he does.

“Now you grab one leg,” and the old man grabbed the other, and he split that child right up to the navel.

“Did that hurt you?”

“Yes.”

“As it hurt me, the day your father saw you in your mother’s clothes and wanted to wed you.”

He swung the axe again and split that child right up to its neck.

“Did that hurt you?”

“Yes.”

“As it hurt me, the day you had to cut off your breasts and throw them to your father’s dogs.”

And he swung the axe one final time and split that child’s head.

“Did that hurt you?”

“Yes.”

Then the old man gathered the pieces and went into his cabin, telling the prince to wait a bit. Soon he came back, carrying a large platter with a lid.

“Here’s a platter for you to bring to your wife. Only, you must not lift the lid, not once, before you pass it into her hands.

The prince took the platter and brought it home to the princess, handing it to her. She lifted the lid and behold, there was their child, as hale and whole as before.

And they lived happily from that day forward.

[johannestevans]

some izzy/fang maybe?

It's a complicated relationship.

Ivan thinks he's stupid sometimes for letting Izzy in when he's like this, but Ivan's a fucking hypocrite - Fang knows himself that Ivan will fuck Izzy himself when Izzy's in the right mood for him.

For Ivan, that's when Izzy's just a little bit tipsy, when he's laughing and rough, when he's relaxed enough to want to wrestle and play and roll on the floor with Ivan before they take it to an alleyway or a brothel bed.

For Fang--

He likes Izzy when he's like that, yeah, sure he does. It reminds him of how Izzy was capable of being fucking years ago, before Blackbeard got a bit more... tired. Difficult.

Fang doesn't want to say "old" - he and Izzy have been older for a lot longer than Edward Teach has, and even now, Fang isn't convinced he's ready to admit that any age has caught up with him. Whatever twisted marriage that Blackbeard and Izzy have between them, it's been on the rocks for years now, and the nights where Izzy is right for Ivan orFang are fewer and farther between.

For Ivan, it's Izzy laughing and playful and still with this edge of nastiness, where the two of them can shove each other, can genuinely fucking laugh together like Izzy never laughs with anybody anymore - for Fang? Fang's never really liked that kind of horseplay. He always got pushed into it when he was a kid, and it's just not fun, not something that's for him, fighting, wrestling, roughhousing.

He's fine using his strength and bulk to shove someone around when they deserve it, but he's never had much care for being shoved around, and for someone he likes, for someone he fucking cares about, even if it's Izzy, and he's a dick?

Well--

No, no, Fang does care about Izzy. Sure he does. He'd fucking kill the little bastard sometimes, but he does.

But sex with someone he feels like hating in the moment? All that rough stuff? No, that's not his speed at all.

So here's Izzy now, all tuckered out after a bitching match with Edward, all the strength worked out of him and all the armour stripped off him, so that he's soft and tender and almost sweet.

He's on his knees, buried deep into this quiet, meditative state, and Fang says softly, "You sure you can handle this, boss?"

"Please," says Izzy hoarsely, the only fucking time he says please to Fang and isn't being a bitch about it, genuine, just a little desperate. It's almost easy to like him when their roles are reversed like this, when Izzy's the boss but he's still down on his knees, looking up at Fang with his eyes wide and dark and pleading.

Fang grips him by the hair, tilting his head a little further back, and feeds his cock down Izzy's throat.

Fuck, but there's a reason that Fang does this, and there's a reason that Ivan does it, even though the boss is six kinds of crazy, because he's fucking good at this, he's a good lay, and he's great at sucking cock.

"Fuck," Fang moans softly, staring down at Izzy as he sinks himself forward as desperately as he can, his jaw and tongue relaxed so that he can bring as much of Fang's cock into his mouth as he can, until he's kissing the root of him and then pulling back to suck him properly, bobbing his head like a real professional.

He hollows his cheeks and Fang grunts, loosely gripping Izzy's hair at the pleasure of the suction, his cock giving a jump and his sac clenching up; gently, he rocks his hips into Izzy's mouth. Izzy shudders, and he opens up his eyes, puts his hand on Fang's thigh and grips - Fang knows what he wants, that he wants Fang to fuck his throat.

Fang grips his hair, keeping his head still, and he'd actually be perfect if he wasn't just teeth, spit, and acid, because he actually lets out a little whimper of loss, of desperation, staring up at Fang with his big eyes.

"I don't do that, boss," murmurs Fang, holding him still. "You want to keep sucking me off, or not?"

Izzy's brows furrow, and he almost manages to scowl even with his mouth full, his eyes flitting about... And then he drops his hand from Fang's thigh, settling his hands back into his lap, his fingertips pressing hard into the meat of his own thighs, but his eyes close again, his posture loosening.

He goes sweeter and softer again, just like Fang likes him, and he moans like Fang's already fucking his cunt when Fang lets him start sucking again.