true-that-though

As much as Mars in the 12th House could indicate an individual who hides their sexuality and has trouble expressing unfiltered, raw energy, Mars in the 12th could also point to almost the complete opposite of that — an addiction to sex as a means of escapism, being overly sexual and consumed with sex so that they don’t have to focus on anything else. The 12th House is associated with addictions after all. Mick Jagger of The Rolling Stones was/is known for struggling with promiscuity and went to treatment for his sex addiction, and he has Mars in the 12th House. Of course this is only just one example, but I thought it was interesting to take note of how polarizing these manifestations could be. It’s not limited to these things, but it’s true nonetheless. So even though many people with Mars in the 12th House could have problems asserting their sexual nature or discussing sexual matters, or even allowing their sexuality to be out in the open, many people with Mars in the 12th House could also over-do it and have issues controlling that.

youtube

Watch this and cry… (credit goes to  ItsATwinThing for making this amazing video that has me in tears for the millionth time)

These two are the heart of the show! Anyone who says otherwise has some really twisted views of what Supergirl is all about. I know they’ve said that the Danvers Sisters would go back to being the center and the heart of the show and I really hope that’s true because even though we had great moments in season 2, those moments were few and far in between. We need more of Kara and Alex together because no matter who they’re dating, matter of fact is these two live for each other!!!!

anonymous asked:

Idk man no matter how many other gay people I meet I always just think of myself as "not normal" and idk if that'll ever change. Lots of people - straight & not- have asked me "if you could be straight would you" and my answer is always yes and i cant ever imagine not feeling that way.

I hear you… I don’t feel that way right now but I sure as hell have in my life. The world is set up for straight people and it gives us a hell of a lot of messages about us being wrong. Its not true though, and it doesn’t have to be that way.

anonymous asked:

❤❤❤❤❤ sorry i couldn't send this before, was asleep. This is so cute though!!! And I know you love a lot of people

“And I know you love a lot of people” is maybe one of the cutest things anyone has ever said to me? it’s true though!!! i love my friends so much oh my god!!!

@lifeandeathbrigade shan is?? so important to me??? just about the sweetest person you’ll ever meet i swear to god. she is so open minded and intelligent. every time she reblogs one of my posts i tear up a little in my soul because she is wayyyyy too nice to me. i love talking to her because she’s just such a warm and friendly and funny and smart person. idk man she’s pretty rad. also? the girl’s got great taste i mean… fdtd, clace, delena, sense8…. can’t argue with that logic, thems the facts.

@alex-norma okay so don’t quote me on this but i think alexa is my oldest standing friend on this hellsite? we’ve honestly been friends for i think like a good 3 years (god rest our souls), which is pretty fucking wild since she was too cool to be following me then and she’s too cool to be following me now. somehow every single thing alexa makes is like absolute top tier content. i mean just every fucking thing is so pretty. it almost hurts my eyes to look at, it’s like staring directly into the sun. if i gaze at their light and beauty for too long i’ll go blind because humans aren’t allowed to see that level of gorgeousness with our sinful mortal eyes. sometimes we’ll talk a ton and then go like 5 months without talking but that is okay because our bond is eternal and withstands the tests of time. i mean yeah, i love this hilarious, smart, sarcastic, cold-hearted bitch. she means a lot to me idk man.

@samtcrlys so we’re more recent mutuals but i legitimately love hallie. she is such a nice and funny and enjoyable person? i have serious appreciation for her love of fdtd because that show is everything to me and the entire fandom is dead so any and all content is cherished deep within my soul. she stans sam tarly which means that she hasn’t to be the purest person ever… i mean i literally don’t know what else that could say about you. she’s so low drama and accepting and i am very glad that we’re mutuals. A+ 10/10

@lilabarq okay um so? this fucking hoe. i know i said alexa was my oldest friend but if we aren’t counting like year long periods without communication then it’s talon. i have a whole lot of love in my heart for this girl. she was at a point probably my best friend in the world? and a fucking good one too. we had a whole lot of conversations about delena at 3 am and we both suffered a whole lot for it but i don’t have any regrets. just a really high quality lover of bees and mermaids, what more could you fucking ask for. even if we don’t talk that often anymore i she still means a lot to me and i love seeing her talk and i’m so proud of her because she’s one of the strongest people i know.

@rorysgimlore lmfao i don’t even know if she’ll see this because she’s all but escaped this fucking hell of a website and i am very happy for her but i’m just gonna put it into the universe and hope she gets good vibes. mickey is my trademarked Suffer Buddy™. we became friends at a point in our lives where we were both suffering from very traumatic crushes on some very obnoxious boys that we low-key hated but were insanely attracted to which was a big fucking bummer. but now! she has an awesome boyfriend who buys her tickets to the killers and i’m still alone but no longer in constant agony and sexual frustration which is a big plus. i mean i don’t even know where i would be if i couldn’t constantly whine to her and i am more grateful than she could ever know. also??? she’s my killers buddy!!! when the new album comes out best believe she’s who i’m going to first because i think she’s the only person i’ve met who loves them as much as me (aside from maybe kris) and she has already promised to send me videos from the concert like the mvp saint of an angel that she is.

send me a ❤ and i will randomly compliment someone

2

“Actors of East Asian descent don’t get the opportunities white actors do. I know that’s inherently a problem in a country that produces a lot of period drama, but I have to fight so hard to get parts that don’t have something to do with China.”

Negotiations

I walked into the room, avoiding direct eye contact with the alien waiting for me. Its huge eyes just looked like a jet black sclera set in a sack of vaguely damp, wrinkled gray leather. If eyes are a window into the soul, this creepy little guy would give satan a run for his money. They just put me on edge, somehow. I’d have to make eye contact anyway, but it could wait.

I strode up to the meeting table, pulled out the chair, and sat down. I shuffled around in my bag for a moment before pulling out a small piece of tech, which I set on the table in front of me.

“Before we begin, I want to be sure of a few things. This device you’ve provided us with, it is 100% effective at understanding and translating languages, correct?”

The alien across from me nodded. It’s a nice little allowance they’ve made for comfort, learning our body language, but its bulbous head threw the whole gesture off. It made me think of one of those old inflatable toys with a weight on the bottom, that would lean too far to the side before bouncing straight back up. Woobles or something. It didn’t really matter.

“Nearly. We occasionally find a race with one or two concepts that it has trouble with, but that’s easily smoothed over.”

I took a deep breath, and waited a moment to compose myself. This whole thing was going to be more trying than not interrupting old man Higgins up the street while he went on about whatever racist sentiment was in his head at the moment.

“One or two…okay. That’s odd.”

The alien blinked. Eyelids came in from not just the top and bottom, but also the sides. That’s just plain creepy. Reminds me of one of those really old movies they threw on the media blacklist pretty much as soon as first contact started. Something in black. Whatever it was, I remember seeing it as a kid, and that guy at the beginning had nothing on this alien’s eyes.

“Have you already found something it can’t translate?”

I nodded, then pulled out my communicator and scrolled through a few documents. I really needed to clean this thing out. Can’t believe I didn’t get around to it before coming to such an important meeting. Imagine the debacle that would result if I opened exactly the wrong thing. Never can know what that might be, honestly.

“Of a sort, yes. Mind humoring me for a few minutes?”

The alien steepled its hands together, and leaned forward. That’s just plain creepy. I wonder how they learned such context specific body language? Not that it really matters, I guess. Not my problem.

“Certainly. After all, it can take years to accept a race into the Federation.”

Nodding again, I pulled up a document on my communicator, then leaned back in my chair as I began. This was going to be more interesting than that time your classmate Jimmy found some old matches somewhere and almost burned the school down by mistake.

“Excellent. This shouldn’t take much time. I mentioned that we found some issues with your device. Allow me to demonstrate: Espionage.”

The little device on the table beeped, and a red light flashed.

“ERROR: NO ANALOGUE FOUND”

I sighed. That one had been an accident. We just had the thing sitting in a conference room while we discussed the implications of the visit when it came up. But, when something that simple for us to understand came up, we had to try for more.

“Reverse Engineering.”

Again, a beep and a flash of red.

“ERROR: NO ANALOGUE FOUND”

“Spycraft.”

And again with the beep. This was going to get irritating if I didn’t speed things up a bit. Too bad we hadn’t managed to find a mute option for that feature.

“ERROR: NO ANALOGUE FO-”

“Overwhelming Force”

“ERROR: NO-”

“Scorched Earth”

“ER-”

“Kamikaze”

“E-”

Blitzkrieg, Stealth, Mutually Assured Destruction, Acceptable Losses, Pyrrhic Victory, Guerilla Warfare, Encirclement, Entrenchment, Siege.”

The device gave off a series of distressed beeps, punctuated by rapid blinking of the little red light. I almost felt sorry for it. Almost.

“TOO MANY ERRORS DETECTED. REBOOTING. RUNNING SELF DIAGNOSTIC. NO DISCREPANCIES FOUND,”

I paused, and glanced across the table at the alien before looking back down at the translator. This was going to hit it harder than a washed up holovid actor with no auditions and less money hits rock bottom.

“Xenocide”

The chair across from me clattered to the ground as the alien practically fell out of its seat. I don’t blame the poor thing. Of all the aggressive, militaristic words we tried, that was one of the ones we least expected to translate. I mean, really. Who has a word for the intentional extermination of an entire sapient species when they don’t even understand fundamental hostile international mechanics like spying?

“Why do you have a word for…what was all that just now?”

I chuckled a bit while motioning for the alien to sit back down. His reaction had been pretty good, perfectly suitable for one of those hammed-up old dramas where the hero realizes they’ve been working with the villain all along.

“We were confused about that too. So we took a look at the information you sent as part of first contact with us. We noticed something interesting. Every single race in your Federation is carnivorous. Why is that?”

The alien seemed smaller somehow as it settled back into a seat. It looked kind of like a balloon slowly losing air, if that balloon was made of moldering gray leather with eyes that made your spinal column decide it wanted a holiday in Fiji.

“First contact has always been made after sapient races make it to multiple worlds. We’ve never found a sapient herbivorous race which failed to destroy themselves in resource wars and aggressive action. We’ve never found herbivores capable of surviving long enough to leave their own world.”

I leaned forward in the chair and smiled while finally making direct eye contact with the alien. I think the poor thing shivered when I did that. Not that I blame it. Imagine your reaction when you start to put the pieces together and realize that your friendly, upstanding next door neighbor might be the world’s most wanted criminal.

“And the races you have found, while commonly using threat displays, do not waste resources on wars they cannot easily win, correct?”

The alien nodded as it slouched a bit in its chair. It looked kind of like it was trying to hide. Who wouldn’t want to hide from the monsters in their closet?

“Wasted resources means decreased likelihood of survival.”

I shrugged. That was true enough, though rather coldly logical. Dispassionate logic like that has never been our strong suit. Then again, that’s why I’m in this situation in the first place, so it evens out.

“And yet herbivores constantly waste resources on aggression, on movement, on having more young than will possibly survive.”

The alien was staring at me. I’m not sure when the last time it blinked was. I wonder if those eyes need some kind of lubrication to keep from drying out. Probably, they looked a bit less creepy than they should’ve. Looked like they were losing their shine.

“And they die for it. That’s exactly why we’ve never encountered spacefaring herbivores. Their inherent aggression is their own demise.”

I held eye contact. I’d almost swear the alien was a weird statue right now. Don’t know who would commission a statue made of old greasy leather, but I’m sure there’s someone with too much money and too little sense who would give it a shot.

“Indeed. Now, back to the subject at hand. I’ll ask you before we continue: what can you offer humans for joining your Federation?”

The alien sputtered as it started moving again. I’d swear it looked offended. Maybe it doesn’t see where this is going. Not that it really matters, I guess. I mean, it probably matters about as much as posting a formal complaint to a new corporate policy, which is to say not at all.

“We’ve already sent the offer. You’ve seen that, I’m sure.”

I nodded, and began to tap out a staccato rhythm on the table with my fingers. I never could remember where I learned this stupid tune. I’ve known it as long as I can remember, and it just moves into my head on occasion and sticks around like that one couchsurfing friend who doesn’t understand the idea of wearing out their welcome.

“And I’m asking, what else do you have to offer?”

The alien just shook its head again, staring at the device. I wonder if it thought we might’ve tampered with it. As if we knew how. That little thing is way beyond our current abilities. We had some scientists pry it open and look inside, just to be sure.

“Nothing. I’m not sure why you’re-”

I raised my hand, cutting him off. Huh. Not sure why that worked. Did they learn that much of our body language? That’s still really creepy, if it’s the case. Or, maybe I just have it on edge. I dunno. I guess it doesn’t matter.

“May I have permission to connect my datapad with my ship’s computers?”

The alien glanced away from me for a moment. I assume it was checking in with superiors somehow. Maybe it was psychic, to an extent. Or maybe they just had an implant of some sort. We’ll find out eventually, I’m sure.

“Yes, if you like.”

I sighed. I guess that makes things easier for us. I don’t think anyone was going to like what I was about to do. This whole thing felt kind of like one of those holovids of an accident, where you know what’s coming and don’t want to keep going, but for some reason you just can’t seem to stop and pull yourself away.

“Computer, show video: Hiroshima”

A screen appeared in the air above my datapad. It started playing back an old, grainy video. Shaky, taken by hand in an aircraft in a firefight. Below, you can barely see a city being blotted out by a massive explosion. A cloud of smoke, fire and debris was rapidly climbing into the sky, billowing, growing, blooming into an eerie and easily recognized mushroom cloud.

“That’s…you’re using weapons of that scale on a population center? How recent was this?”

I shrugged, and closed the video. The screen on my datapad went back to the document I had up earlier. Gotta love how well they managed to predict this whole thing. I made a mental note to recommend a raise for whoever set up that document for me.

“Three centuries ago. Prior to our invention of spaceflight. Part of a much larger conflict. This is a relatively minor example of “overwhelming force”“

“ERROR: NO A-”

“Shut it. Computer, show infosheet: Battle of Stalingrad.”

A series of graphs and diagrams appeared above my datapad. They showed resources, time, maps, battle plans, and death tolls. Images were interspersed throughout, as were annotations on the tactical value of this, the emotional value of that. Prominent among them was a single apartment building, including notes on sniping from the roof and support via tunnels.

“That…what purpose would that…why w-”

Again, I raised my hand to cut him off, before closing the infosheet. Maybe it was both. Nah, couldn’t be. Only way it was both having this guy on edge and our body language is if it somehow had our body language built in. Unsettling thought, but not exactly likely.

“Because Stalingrad was an advantageous location and the people who died there were considered ‘Acceptable losses’“

“ERRO-”

“Computer, show gallery: General Sherman’s March to the Sea.”

A multitude of images appeared over the datapad. Rail lines and roads intentionally broken and destroyed. Farms and fields scoured clean and left to fallow. Buildings and towns razed to the ground. A broken people left to mourn and starve.

“So much waste…that can’t be intentional, can it?”

I glanced at the images, the wanton destruction that campaign caused, and the very orders that caused it. That kind of thing may be considered morally reprehensible now, even a war crime, but it wasn’t always. At the time, the strategy was extolled as one of the reasons the war ended the way it did.

“It was intentional.”

The alien stared at me, its reflective black eyes bigger than I’d ever seen them before. Creepy as all hell, that’s for sure. I’d rather not deal with these kinds of meetings in the future. Maybe after this I could negotiate for some kind of retirement.

“But…why?”

I tapped my datapad and closed the gallery, then leaned back and tossed my feet on the table. May as well relax, I already knew how this was going to end.

“Because it rendered the enemy unable to use resources Sherman couldn’t keep. Computer, assemble and show video grouping: RTS Games”

A large grid of videos came up, showing a huge range of scenes. Largely battle, the settings varied from open space to deep ocean, from early history to the far “future.” Even battles across space and time could be seen.

“The translator can’t have gotten that right. Those are military tactical simulations. Higher level than anything I’ve ever seen or heard of.”

I laughed as I closed out all of the videos and turned back to the alien. Creepy and unsettling as it might be, I’m pretty sure I was terrifying the poor thing. Not that I really felt sorry for it. Not at all.

“No. They aren’t. Those are games. Toys. For. Fun. And they’re a couple hundred years out of date. From what I’ve seen, nearly every human capable of coherent speech is capable of tactically overwhelming your Federation. And since we’re already here, in space, it’s too late for you to say no. So, I’ll ask again:

What do you have to offer us?”

anonymous asked:

I get that Millennials aren't perfect or absolved of the issues that Boomers have, but shouldn't Boomers tale the brunt of the blame seeing as they are the ones with all the powers in government right now and make up most of the work force? And if there are issues in the Millennial generation, well, who raised us?

Look, I’ve got a long-standing beef with Millennial v. Boomer discourse that I could spend a few hours on, but lemme try to sum it up briefly. 

Many of the modern economic problems that affect many Millennials that are often blamed on Baby Boomers (unemployment/underemployment, soaring costs of education, loan debt, comparative lack of opportunities, poverty, etc. etc.) started well before our generation came of age. Most of these same economic issues fucked up Generation X before us, but because they were a smaller generation, people didn’t hear about it as much. And most of these problems grew directly from right-wing political and economic policies that began in the Reagan presidency in the 1980s, before the Boomers were in political ascendancy. (Yes, there were a few young Boomers in Reagan’s administration, but the leading neocons/neoliberals, using the actual meaning of the term, not the tumblr left’s version of it, who led the move rightward were older.) Boomers, by virtue of their age, enjoyed the unique benefits of the post-War (1945-1980) economy and many managed to escape the worst effects of the Reagan Era cuts, but not all did equally (see below.) And many of them, personally, are total clueless assholes about how unique their experience was. I have Boomer parents born in the early 50s, so like I know.  But one of the biggest problems I have with Millennial/Boomer discourse is that it de-politicizes and de-contextualizes important social/political/economic shifts that were the direct result of Republican policies. It reduces it all to just a generational conflict in which one selfish group of people just didn’t want to share their toys with their kids. And even if you accept the idea that one generation can personally screw over another via political means, the idea that Boomers would target their own children specifically is particularly odd. Though I’ll also point out that the “who raised us” issue is more complex, as the Boomer generation ends in 1964, and quite a lot of people born in the 90s who could still be considered Millennials, have parents born after that. 

As for the idea that Boomers make up the majority of the workforce, actually Millennials are now the largest segment of the workforce, slightly ahead of Gen X, with Boomers well behind. The oldest boomers are 71 now, and the youngest are 53. A lot of the oldest ones have retired and the younger ones are on their way there. X  As for having “all the powers in government” that’s a pretty hard thing to quantify. Trump and many of his key advisers are Boomers, but there are a number of GenX and Millennials too. Which is why I get annoyed at the idea that Millennials are somehow innately more compassionate and kind than older generations, because not really. Millennials overall are more democratic/left leaning than older voters, but Trump still won among white millennials.  Many baby boomers, too, were very liberal in their youth, and became more conservative with age, especially the white ones. It’s a pretty common thing to happen. It’s not as if that fate is going to magically spare our generation, so most of this discourse is not going to age well.

Which brings me to the other issue, that you can legitimately talk about Millennials and Baby Boomers as distinct groups with similar characteristics and experiences. Most of this discourse is highly race and class based but people don’t seem to acknowledge that. It’s focused around the experiences of middle to upper class white boomers and their kids, who presumably don’t have it as easy. And in many cases, this is probably true. Though if you’ve read any financial news in the last few years, they’ve been talking a lot about the huge amount of “wealth transfer” that has started from well-off Boomers to their kids. But for many other Boomers, this wealth never materialized. Plenty of people never had access to it thanks to their race or immigrant status. So the idea that one generation “owns everything” or needs to “take the blame” blurs the fact that within any generation there are huge differences in wealth and access to power.

Basically millennial/boomer discourse is ahistorical, apolitical, and focused on the experiences and expectations of middle class white kids, and that’s why I’m not here for it.

Professor || Sebastian Stan

Relationship: Professor!Sebastian x reader

Summary: A one night stand turns into more of a problem when you realise that your professor is your one night stand.

Warnings: mentions of smut, drinking, age gap (reader is legal and in mid-twenties!!!), age difference, professor x student relationship

Word Count: 1770 words

A/N: im kinda getting my groove back let’s hope it lasts during the week because uni is already making me wanna die (((:

also my cause of death is the second gif GOODBYE


Just one more shot!” Seemed to be the motto of your night as you insisted you and your friends needed to go partying on one last Friday night before you start for your masters degree. 

You weren’t ever the party girl, never really big on drinking, but that all changed when you saw your schedule for the semester. You were going to be cooped up in your room for the next eight months, no doubt about it. 

So why not have a little fun while you still can? It can’t hurt, right?

Six tequila shots in and you were quite possibly the happiest person in the club, no, on the Earth. Not a single care in your mind, everything was all about the moment and whatever you laid eyes on in that very moment. 

That just so happened to be the exact moment your eyes met a gorgeous pair of cool grey ones. It might’ve been your intoxicated state, but you could’ve sworn that you knew those eyes, that you’ve seen them before. 

Your thoughts were pushed aside when the man walked even closer to you, offering to buy you a drink, to which you declined because quite frankly, you didn’t want to yack in front of the gorgeous man in front of you. 

His face fell when you denied his offer, but quickly made up for it when you grabbed his hand, pulling him to the crowded (makeshift) dance floor, immediately grinding yourself against him. 

His hands were large and warm, splayed against your waist as they moved your body against his, small and breathy moans leaving his mouth every once in a while as his head fell in the crook of your neck. 

A few songs later and the next thing you knew you were outside in the alley behind the bar against the wall making out with the handsome stranger you had yet to learn the name of. 

Fuck,” you gasped when his teeth nipped at the sensitive skin of your neck, undoubtedly working on leaving some type of mark on you, “Sebastian,” you heard him mumble, confusing you. 

“What?” You asked, still panting against his face, your arms still laced around his neck, “my name,” he said, “it’s Sebastian,” he repeated as you smirked, crashing your lips against his, “take me home, Sebastian” you whispered in a sultry tone before he grabbed your hand and flagging a cab down. 

 The cab ride to his place was filled with not-so-subtle touches as you both looked out of your respective windows, trying not to draw any attention to your states, which clearly didn’t work. 

Sebastian nearly dragged you out of the cab, quickly paying the driver before bolting into his building to the stairs, “it’s only the second floor,” he assured as you nodded but all you could focus was how broad his shoulders were. 

“I’m gonna fucking wreck you, doll,” he growled against your ear the second he had the door closed causing shivers to erupt on your skin as you followed him into the bedroom. 


Your head was pounding and every muscle in your body seemed to scream stop when you tried to sit or stand up. When you finally managed to muster up the strength to sit up and open your eyes you realised you were not, in fact, in your own bed. 

You gasped when you saw a man beside you, cursing when you couldn’t remember his name, even though it was right on the tip of your tongue. You checked your phone and found that it had thirty percent and you nearly cheered out loud. 

Quickly pulling on your clothes you took one last look at the very handsome sleeping man before walking out of his apartment, and making the walk to yours. 


Monday came sooner than you wanted it to, but your weekend was eventful and you couldn’t be happier at making the choice to go out on Friday. Your friends had pried every single detail from your night when you got home. You told them everything you could remember, but leaving out some of the more graphic details. 

You still couldn’t remember his name, you tried looking through your contacts to see if he maybe added his number, but nothing. It was still on the tip of your tongue, in the back of your mind, but you just couldn’t get it out. 

Either way, you knew you had to push the man out of your thoughts as you rushed to get ready for your first class. You hit snooze just one too many times and you were running behind. Figuring you’d have to skip on breakfast you grabbed a granola bar before rushing out of your apartment. 

You lived practically right beside campus, thankfully, so when you stepped on campus and saw your building you were relieved, it was the first day of classes as well, it shouldn’t be a problem if you’re a little late, right?

It was weird being on campus and in your mid-twenties surrounded by young eighteen year olds scurrying to find their classes, you almost laughed remembering your own panic when you had to find your classes as a freshman. 

Walking into the large building you quickly descended the stairs and into the basement before walking down to the end of the hall finally reaching the lecture hall and pulling the doors open, stumbling in. 

The room was quite, so quite as you clumsily stumbled in. Every single pair of eyes was on you as you made your way to the only seemingly empty seat at the front of the hall, slumping down in your seat. 

“As I was saying,” a male voice caught your attention, “my name is Dr. Stan, but you can call me Sebastian,” your heart dropped to your stomach as you slowly lifted your head to meet the same blue eyes, both your jaws tensing. 

“Let’s begin,” Sebastian said, his eyes lingering on yours for a second longer before turning to grab the textbook. 


“You slept with your professor!” Nat screeched, howling laughter continuing as you buried your head into the couch cushion as she continued laughing at your misery, “it’s not funny, we could both get in serious trouble,” you told her, sitting up as she raised a brow. 

“And why should anyone find out?” She questioned as you sighed, “I don’t know…” you trailed off realising just how paranoid you were being, “you’re both adults and you slept with him before you even knew he was gonna be teaching you,” she said, reassuring you as you nodded your head, slumping back against the couch. 

“I can’t even look at him without turning into a tomato,” you groaned as Nat let out another loud laugh, “you have leverage now,” she grinned mischievously as you rolled her eyes, “you’re ridiculous,” you laughed as she shrugged her shoulders, taking another sip of her drink. 

Your first class with Dr. Stan, or Sebastian as he preferred, was awkward nonetheless. You couldn’t focus on what he was saying, barely making any notes as your mind screamed you’ve seen him naked! over and over again. 

It’s true though, whatever he was doing, you could picture him doing it naked, as gross, disturbing, and wrong as that sounded you just couldn’t help yourself. You knew he must’ve been uncomfortable as well because he would cough or stumble on his words every time his eyes landed on yours. 

Thankfully you didn’t have another one of his lectures until Thursday, hopefully you’d be able to push aside what happened and be professional. You’d just have to wait and see. 


You stood at his desk looking everywhere and anywhere other than him his words ringing in your mind, “Miss. [Y/L/N], may I have a word with you?” His voice just kept replaying in your mind, psyching yourself out for what he was going to say. 

You heard the door close as the last student was finally out, leaving just you and Sebastian, “so,” he said, clearing his throat as you finally looked up at him, almost out of reflex. 

God he was gorgeous. Dark brown locks brushed neatly behind his ears, his piercing blue eyes looking directly at you, his tailed suit hugging every curve of his body, no wonder you slept with him in the first place. 

“I just wanted to talk to you about, well,” he chuckled nervously, his hand rubbing the back of his head as he looked at his feet. He was just as nervous about this as you, possibly more. 

“It’s okay,” you said quietly, his head shooting up at the sound of your voice, “neither of us knew you’d be teaching me and we were both a little intoxicated,” you assured him with a small smile he mimicked. 

“Right,” he spoke, “it doesn’t have to be weird at all,” even you knew that was a lie. Neither of you could look at each other without being flustered and neither of you were good at covering up your emotions. 

“It’s probably gonna be a little weird,” you laughed as he laughed as well, tipping his head to the side as he admired you, “that was a great night,” he whispered as both your laughter died down. 

Your breath hitched as he said that, a wave of arousal flowing through you as you remembered what you both did that night, “it’s illegal,” you warned, although you didn’t sound too convincing, “it wasn’t on that night,” he smirked as you straightened up, gaining some confidence. 

“Well, Dr. Stan,” you spoke in a fake preppy tone, “I must warn you that you’re venturing into some very dangerous waters,” now your tone was much more sultry than anything. You watched as he took a few steps towards you, his eyes much darker than when you first started talking to them. 

“Careful, Miss [Y/L/N], you don’t wanna start something you can’t finish,” he whispered, his breath fanning over your face, “who says I can’t finish it?” You smirked as he bit his lip, trying his hardest not to take you right then and there. 

The sound of voices outside the lecture hall made both you and Sebastian jump back just in time for the door to open and a new group of students came pouring in, “see you on Monday, Sebastian,” you smiled, returning to your normal voice before spinning on the heels of your feet and walking out of the hall. 

The second you were outside you let out a large sigh, you were in deep and there was no way anyone was coming out of this unscathed. Fuck. 


A/N: this is gonna be a mini-series so there’s gonna be more parts I promise!!

Let me know if you wanna be tagged in it!

anonymous asked:

How straight parents think it happens (dealer behind school): "Hey man, wanna buy some *opens jacket to reveal an actual rainbow bursting forth* gay?"

It’s true, though I started doing gay and then I got into trans… it’s a gateway drug guys.