#anyways what im getting at is learn to have educated discussions with others and come up with your own opinions instead of picking a side
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this isnt about the ask game but i need you to tell me more about your take on pausetho. i just binged starblight desert and theyre the worst /aff what do you have to say about them
the fact you've specified starblight desert is really interesting to me because not only it is a team canada series but it's also the most recent team canada series- which isn't a bad thing to be clear, because pausetho is eternal and forever, but it interests me because i think pause and etho's dynamic changes a lot in a way that i wouldn't consider applicable to other ships of his that have that long and ongoing history (eg. ethubs, beeftho).
when i think of pausetho i think. the two of them are fundamentally quite lonely characters. full disclaimer that i'm far from #educated on their respective mindcrack povs because i haven't watched them in a hot minute, but. etho is extremely lonely often through choice, especially imo with the way i interpret his time on mindcrack as being shortly after all the 404 nonsense on the lp (tldr he has just went through the most traumatic experience of his life and learned most of what he remembers prior is probably fabricated). etho is also known for his masks and during mindcrack i think a big one was being this very respected and almost famous guy.. a lot of it was in jest ofc but like he's Thee Etho's Lab! this in addition to the fact that he's sort of intimidating in the same way he was in 3l+ll because his uhc rankings were pretty solid.
meanwhile pause is also lonely but imo in a different way. because etho is a guy who chooses loneliness to avoid the eventual hurt that comes from connection whereas pause is a guy who chooses connection time and time again but never really properly connects. hes a lot harder to analyse so forgive me because i also have to tread the dreaded rpf/fiction line here and start pulling from examples most people wouldn't consider due to it being Too Real (also i dont care because its complicated but anyway) one thing that always sticks out to me is the various mindcrack podcast episodes where he ends up being outspoken? i dont have any actual numbers on hand but i Def remember it in regards to like, discussions of female gamers and gamergate and the like and pause often being the one guy to speak up and be like This is shitty actually. that in addition to some far more complicated things i dont have the words to get into right now eg. being the guy on the gayest straight server ever who is actually bisexual But anyway. my point is that among mindcrackers pause to me is in a weird situation where he certainly fits in very well but simultaneously sticks out like a sore thumb in ways he cant really do anything about without massively compromising himself, so despite not being lonely in the same way etho is, there is a certain Something there.. sorry this makes zero sense but this ask has been sitting in my drafts for like a week and im desperate to get rid of it. PLUS he also deals with this in the form of a mask (he is actually a very anxious and soft hearted guy imo but often plays up and is fiercer and shouts more to get laughs but also to come across as bigger and more intimidating than he actually is. not that he needs to because jesus have you seen this guys uhc stats? frankly i should have skipped this entire essay and just linked the various times that etho and pause have clashed in uhc)
anyway jesus this got long . all of this is literally not real btw the main reason i like pausetho is because theyre funny and pause is one of my favourite guys and i wish there was more content for him. but also generally like.. this is the complicated messy reason to like them but also yeah generally just watching team canada and seeing their dynamic is fun bc they are just really good friends ^_^
#anon#asks#pausetho#I need to go back and watch more mc because this is like all based on my vague memories from 2 years ago. And a dream
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Hi so I’m a Damian fan, who is still trying to get into comics and DC in general and stuff. I do know some tidbits from fandom and different blogs that I follow that do analysis.
However after a discussion with my brother (who’s been in special-ed), came this question? I don’t really know how to ask this but I’ll try to phrase it the best I can??
When it comes to schooling realistically would he be put into Special ED (Special-Education?)
While Damian doesn’t have a disability, I think because of his upbringing. Okay let me explain a little. Since Damian has college levels of education, being put into regular classes wouldn’t be considered challenging enough and if he were to be tested, the teacher probably would have to meet with his parents on whether or not to have him move up several grades?
And if the whole reason for Damian to being put into school is to help socially, then maybe special-Ed would help him? Because, the teachers are more hands on and (according to my brother) more focused on social development. And Special ED usually more works on basic life skills which probably is more of Damian needs.
But anyways, I know probably comic writers are not going to do that. But I thought it was an interesting thing to bring up for discussion?
I don't have personal experience with special education, so I can't comment on that. Teaching experience wise I can say there are two different ways people adapt content for students with disabilities:
Accommodations are ways you help students learn the same content as their peers. This can be making sure the content is conveyed via multiple means (ex: always having something visual to help explain while you are talking), breaking stuff into smaller chunks for students with ADHD, and like... a gazillion other things.
Modifications actually change what is demanded of the student, so you are asked to learn different content than your peers. I am under the impression that some special ED programs might allow for a modified curriculum, as im doing some research.
WRT hands on teacher stuff, I know that some students genuinely have a hard time managing their behavior in a regular classroom and can benefit from more individualized attention. We do know Damian isn't one of those students, though.
Continuing to connect this to DC comics characters, with my general lack of experience in special education in specific? If his parents were putting him in a non-mainstream-school thing I'm not sure why they would choose special ed instead of a gifted program, when both would presumably involve smaller classes with a more hands on teacher, but the special ED teacher would probably have a wide range of abilities to teach to. I think Damian also has had lots of experience working with teachers in small classroom environments (getting tutored 1-on-1 for most of his childhood :P) so I assume if he wants to learn more about peer social interaction he'd benefit more from something he's not used to, like a bigger classroom size? IDK. He's had small class sizes a lot of his life.
I do want to point out that Social Emotional Development is a current buzzword in teaching (and some people think it's getting too much attention and teachers are being asked to do things that reasonably should be parents responsibility but... :P not gonna get into teaching discourse since I do not have a lot of strong opinions on it) and lots of people want to try to work on kids development socially even in mainstream classes. However obviously that's hard with big class sizes.
Anyway TL;DR: I'm not really seeing how it would come up realistically, but take that with a grain of salt due to my lack of experience.
EDIT: Ok after reviewing my notes and a teensy bit more research, I don't think it's realistic I can't believe I fucking forgot the least restrictive environment thing XD and while obviously the least restrictive environment for any given student is not always a mainstream classroom, in many cases kids who receive special education services do spend time in mainstream classrooms, and at least in the US (which he is going to school in US so I think I can use this generalization :P) the goal admin would have is that the kids in Special ED do spend time in mainstream classrooms as they can, you don't spend like the whole day in a separate room. A lot of the general thought atm is that kids are not separate from their peers without justification.
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Full offense but your tags, "And it doesn't matter if they like it or not. In that moment it will be about satisfying me!" Are extremely worrying. The way you said that comes off as if you didn't even ask consent beforehand, or talked this out. It was worded very heavily as you doing what you want regardless of their consent, boundaries, and feelings, and that is not okay. Whether you're having vanilla sex or engaging in BDSM, consent beforehand and even during, is vital. This is coming from a man who has experience doing BDSM things. You have to discuss these things beforehand, and if this is what you think CNC is, that is very dangerous. Even the "not asking for consent" things STILL require very well talked about consent beforehand, and even then it can be revoked at anytime.
Do better. This is not what BDSM is. You cannot just do whatever the hell you want during sex. You cannot "It doesn't matter if they like it. Im doing it anyways because my pleasure matters more in that moment" because that's literally rape.
I'm so appreciative of you for sending this, anon.
Thank you for educating me and expressing your disappointment, displeasure, disapproval, and concern about my said tags.
I definitely did not mean it in a rape term or anything in that regarded such as sexual abuse, etc.
This was clearly meant or with the impression that there would be consent beforehand.
Let me be a little pathetically open about how I "pictured" or "fantasized" about this "scenario".
So in my head I reblogged it with the idea that she would have already been satisfied because that would always be my first priority in terms of sexually pleasing each other.
Obviously the most important thing before anything, is to have an understanding about what we like, want, the do's and not do's; meaning the things we are okay with and the things we are not okay with. Basically setting boundaries beforehand. More importantly, throughout the whole experience, we will be vocal about whether we're okay so far and if it's okay to do this or that, go a little harder, slower, etc. consent is everything.
Sex is supposed to be a safe and fun experience where we both learn our body, and what we like, etc. AND I WILL ALWAYS HONOR THAT.
That being stated:
back to my mentality of why I put that in the tags: that was just me daydreaming that she had already been "satisfied" and so now it was my turn to get "satisfied". And that's what I meant when I typed that. The consent, the understanding of not only what she wants to do to me but also what she wants me to do, vice versa, and everything else that needs to be okayed would have already been acknowledged before that to happen.
And OF COURSE it was "worded" that way because I had all the above in mind. I'm sure you know that some girls want that type of roleplay or sex, right? Everything has to be talked through, wanted, and accepted beforehand.
If she says no, it's no. If I say no, it's no. Pretty simple.
I feel as though you took it a little too literal and seriously, but you have your reasonings and I'm going to respect them and appreciate you for voicing your beliefs and values. 😊😊😊
I gave my piece; you can either accept them or disagree with them. Regardless, I don't care. We can agree to disagree, anon. You do you.
Hope this clears up anything for you, anon.
Take care, anon.
😊😊😊
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taoreta
— The world is in ruins, but there’s beauty in everything. Shouto is reminded of that when he crosses paths with a survivor who kisses him at the first meeting. —
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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader
warnings: smut, 18+, apocalypse!au, cursing, violence, first time writing fight scenes, death, angst, fluff, blood, gore, vomit, & kinks (sexual frustration, hairpulling, biting, marking, scratching, desperation, breeding)
word count: 18,119
a/n: so the thing about apocalypse aus I found out is that the world building is so fucking fun that I forgot that this was an nsfw thing........ so I sincerely apologize if this feels rushed I tried to make this feel solid but like with enough world building to satisfy me. anyways, this is for the bnharem collab, you know the drill. this was not edited at all im so sorry.
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The world was in chaos.
Or well, it once was but still a hundred years after what could only be described as an apocalypse; well, there was still an apocalypse.
Many years ago, well before Todoroki Shouto could remember, quite frankly well before he was alive there had been the introduction of something within the human genome. It was a mutation of sorts, a new gene that allowed individuals to unlock and evolve into these powerful beings that for years longer people used to write about.
People who could breathe fire, emit ice, and fly through the sky! For years it had been a glorious step forward for humankind, a hopeful promise that maybe things would be better — that all things would end better. If Shouto looked hard enough he could still see scattered newspapers in the abandoned streets; nearly destroyed papers from well before any of his parents or grandparents were born indicating the glory days of quirks.
But what was once thought to be a step forward in human evolution ended with a sickening twist.
Those with quirks went on rampages the moment they turned twenty-five, slaughtering and killing everyone in their path. Their mind overtaken by their quirks with the single thought and decision to kill everyone who dared to stop them, who were weaker than them. It must have been terrifying back then, to be so meek, powerless, and afraid seeing people you had once cheered on in acceptance and grace kill off the population in the millions.
Humankind could never survive this.
Those gifted with such powerful feats were granted the ability to live on as immortals, that is until humanity decades later learned it was not true immortality. It was a mere obstruction that was solved when the quirk-given was killed by man. Other than that… they lived on, and on, and on. The false immortality yet another edge against humanity.
People with quirks — better known as the Taoreta today — were the modern-day zombies except there was no rise of the dead, no mass groups of people who craved your flesh and your blood.
No.
They were once users with quirks who appeared just like normal people, sure some of them had distinct quirk features, but for the most part, unless they were distinctly different you couldn’t tell until it was too late.
Todoroki Shouto was different though.
He was apart of the few lasting survival groups in Japan, in the world.
His group was called Yuuei, a collective group of nearly two hundred people who occupied a deserted boarding school entitled U.A. They were apart of the population that was considered to be quirkless, and well, no one had been born with a quirk within this base yet.
This boarding school, but what Shouto had been able to piece together after spending his entire livelihood in the confines of the barbed wired, specially scented gates they lived in. The Gladiolus flower was the worlds saving grace.
By planting these flowers among bases and fragrancing them along borders and barriers, your area was both ignored by those with quirks or smelled so disgusting to those with quirks they would never dare cross. Of course, this wasn’t always true — Shouto had seen too many times the few outliers of this truth stumble towards the base.
Eyes power-hungry, quirks blaring a kilometer away and that horrific silence before a battle. These monstrous onslaughts had decimated his entire bloodline, leaving him only by himself with his friends and chosen family. Everyone had still thought him lucky, he was born around the same time as twenty other babies. His entire life he had grown up in an environment where he always had someone to play with, to learn with, to practice with.
Children were forced to grow up fast in this time and age, no longer was the world of coddling and gentle love. If you loved your children you would teach them how to be resourceful, teach them how to fight, how to kill. By the time you turned fifteen within Yuuei, you were expected to pitch in to survive. Formal classroom education continued on all the way until you were eighteen, but it was known that everyone needed to maintain some sort of educational standard so that Yuuei would never fall internally.
Everyone had a part to play, a piece to do in order to keep things running smoothly.
There were the low-risk jobs within Yuuei starting with the janitors. They were in charge of making sure the school grounds and indoors remained safe and tidy. They applied the Gladiolus flower extract to the gates daily during the fall and winter as the flowers died out by then. It was an easier job, one that was given more to the young children and the elders who could no longer do much else.
Then there were the chefs. They were in charge of the grand garden the community had created many decades ago. They harvested and cooked plenty of vegetables throughout the year, always managing to make just enough so that no one went hungry or starving for more than a day. As recently as thirty years ago, they had introduced their form of animal raising too. Mostly raising and killing deer that had stumbled within their main gates.
Then there was the government. The main part of the government consisted of three people — the president, the vice president, and the one training to one day become president. They took these jobs seriously, meeting every day to see what the community’s latest problems were, discussing to the hundreds of civilians working within this base to make sure civil conflict never broke out. There was also a council made of one member of each residing family member — Shouto remembers that it was his mother who was apart of the council when she was alive… he had assumed this role after she tragically passed, but it was not his only job.
Then there were the educators. These were the ones who dedicated their lives to learning and studying everything they could within their limited, never truly evolving standards so that each younger generation could have a solid foundation within this new world. Shouto remembered how Fuyumi had been so excited to finally reach the end of her second year as a teacher, her eyes delightfully hopeful, ever so clear and bright despite the life they lead.
You could never forget the engineers and the mechanics here — after all, they held one if not the most important job. They were the reason why there was still energy and electricity running through the base, why running water was able to be used by members twice a month, why truly life on base hadn’t erupted into a complete dystopia, and of course, keeping the seekers and the medics alive.
Medics were a given. They were the true saving grace of the camp, Shouto thought so at least. They healed physical injuries, as there were always plenty of those, and they smoothed over mental trauma which was prevalent in every corner of this base. Without medics, they would have never survived this long. Shouto still frequents them aplenty, his trauma from the death of his family still weighing heavily on his chest, his lips always dry and cracked when he remembered how his older brother Natsuo had been ecstatic to join the medical line. He was so big and intimidating in size many had always questioned why he wasn’t a seeker, but Shouto knew his brother had the kindest heart, he wasn’t a fighter unless he had to be.
And finally, there were the seekers. Seekers were by far the most pivotal, most dangerous, and least rewarding role within the base. Twice to three times a week, seekers were to leave the base and go out and search for survivors, resources, anything that may be useful. While for the past hundred years that people have resided in U.A. the local town had been their saving grace, always relying on the abandoned town for their needs, but they had cleared it years ago. Now seekers went out further to get items, all while still doing their basic patrols, and of course fighting off any Taoreta. When they weren’t out running around the country, they were doing patrols around the base to ensure they were always safe. This is the job Shouto has — a job that most of his friends held too. His father and Touya had also held this job long ago, but he had never been able to accomplish a successful run with them…
No… he had to block out that memory.
“Oi, Todoroki!” a voice clipped through his headspace, and Shouto looked away from the cabinet he was once rummaging through. “Get your head outta your ass and do something already, dammit.”
He turned to look at Bakugou who was as grimy and dirty as he was, only that his bag was full of crap and Shouto’s only had dust. Shouto nodded, an apology leaving his lips when his eyes returning back to the already pillaged cabinets and scoured what he could, collecting what he thought to be useful for the base.
It took fifteen minutes for Bakugou and Shouto to pillage all the abandoned homes on this street, they were a great duo together, often working together due to their abrasive and deadly styles and intellect on the field. They had a kill list of three Taoreta together, and an individual score of one on their own, it didn’t seem like much, but coming from people who held no power over these god-like humans, it was incredible. Most people never survived more than one attack from the Taoreta.
But it wasn’t anything to be relieved over, especially not when each survived victory landed them both in hospice care for months.
“Sector five has been cleared,” Shouto spoke into his telecom the moment Bakugou and he emerged from the final house, his eyes glancing at the setting sun in worry. “How’s everyone else doing? Sun setting.”
“We’re all on the car already, waiting on you guys!” came Midoriya’s instant reply.
“This is all your fault,” Bakugou grumbled bitterly while the two of them turned on their heel and began running towards the car they had taken here. “Last as always!”
“We had the most houses to loot, Bakugou, it’s a given,” was Shouto’s easy response, not at all affected by the huffing annoyance of his friend while they reached the car.
Easy and grateful smiles were exchanged between the six seekers when Shouto and Bakugou rejoined the group, a whole day of running this block had left them with zero casualties. On top of all this, they all had full bags of taken items; Shouto considered it a tremendous victory.
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“And what are we checking in today, Todoroki-kun?” Iida asked while Shouto dumped his bag onto the table.
“Toilet paper, paper rolls, canned peaches, flour, rice, medication formula for birth control, expired condoms, and some water,” Shouto listed off, pulling out the items one by one to the nodding Iida.
Iida was a member of the council, and also a seeker much like Shouto was. He was objectively the fastest seeker they had, often clearing out entire rows of houses in half the time it took everyone else. Iida was someone Shouto appreciated very much in this doomful life, a clear leader, and a promising candidate for the presidency one day.
“Oh! The canned peaches could make an excellent addition to Momo’s birthday coming up soon! Kirishima-kun and Sato-kun hit the jackpot with sugar yesterday! This would be a great celebration!” Iida announced, partitioning the different items into different baskets, each one placed into appropriate bins. Shouto remained silent, but he nodded his head, a tired sigh pushing through his lungs while Iida finished putting away his found items. “Momo will also be glad to finally have this formula in her hands, she’s been trying so hard at cracking the code for birth control! But alright! Now for checking in weapons, what do you have for me?”
Shouto’s hands immediately moved to the holsters strapped to his legs.
By being born into this madness, he was never given the right to using any of the guns they held. Guns and ammunition were scarce to come by, they were even more scarce than some of the items they were consistently running out of. When they turned eighteen, each member was given three bullets to attempt to sink it into a target 100 meters away, sink two bullets in, and you were given the right to carry a gun, miss and you wouldn’t.
Of Shouto’s graduating class of forty-one students, only three of them were granted that ability — and two of them weren’t even seekers.
Shouto handed over the knives he had strapped to his muscled thighs, the katana that was strapped to his back, and the brass knuckles that sat on his fists. He remained silent while handing over the fire and ice bombs he had managed to perfect under his parent’s original formulas. He never understood why he wasn’t allowed to keep those bombs, he was the only one who ever checked them out after all, but again, civil disputes could occur at any time, and if the seekers had weapons the rest of the base would be doomed.
“Everything’s accounted for, Iida?” Shouto asked watching while Iida placed everything away.
“Yes!” Iida confirmed, a smile on his face while his hands placed onto his hips with confidence. “Go and get dinner and take a shower!”
Shouto smiled softly. If there was one good thing about being a seeker that wasn’t just experiencing the outside world, it definitely was the fact that being a seeker meant you got to shower more regularly than everyone else.
Dinner was plain as always, a bowl of rice, a slice of deer meat, and an egg. There were a lot of hens here.
Shouto sat with his friends while he ate, quietly adding on to conversations, contradicting his friends whenever he could. It was the little things in life that kept him going honestly, and little things were having Bakugou trying to reach across the dining tables to strangle him while Midoriya and Kirishima intervened. It never failed to make him smile.
“What’s your new schedule for the week, Todoroki?” Kirishima asked, his head dodging Bakugou’s flying elbow with a sharklike grin.
Kirishima was an odd person within this base, he had sharp teeth that reminded everyone of a shark — most people had always assumed it was a side effect of a quirk that had been hidden for ages, but it turned out that while humans evolved quirks for the worse, they were evolving still. Shouto’s own naturally bicolored hair was a testament to that.
“I go on runs Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday,” Shouto spoke with food chipmunked into his cheek. “Council meets on Tuesday, Thursday as always, so I have patrol at night those days. Weapon checkout and morning patrol Monday. Saturday’s my day off.”
“Oh, nice! Looks like all of us have Wednesday and Friday together!” Kirishima cheered, his arms finally letting go of Bakugou who had… calmed down. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a good stash and other sur— OW!”
Kirishima’s eyes narrowed onto Bakugou who had deliberately slammed an elbow into his ribcage, but his face softened at the thought of the word he was going to say.
Shouto smiled softly, his head shaking despite it all and he stood up.
“I’m going to go and shower, one of the floors gave through today so I’m a bit exhausted,” Shouto explained, gathering the reusable plate, cup, and chopsticks he had assigned to him. He would scrap any residual food off it and wash it tomorrow — about twenty years ago the mechanics had managed to figure out a reusable and self-cleaning water system used to wash dishes. It was a game-changer for this community.
The echoing goodnights followed after Shouto while he left the dining hall, his hands fisted into his pockets while he climbed the ten flights of stairs to get to his room’s floor.
U.A.’s building was very unique by the looks of it, even for its time when it was first built. It was created with four separate towers, each tower connected with a single walkway to its adjacent tower. From a ways back it looked like an H — at least to Shouto it did. It was to Shouto’s understanding that each tower was designated for different professions for the once Taoreta thriving society. One tower was for hero-in-training students, one tower for general students, one tower for support students, and one tower for business students — at least that was what was understood by the textbooks found in these old classrooms. Of the four towers, only the support student tower was uninhabited because there were always modifications and major systems running there and they needed all the room.
Shouto, along with most of his friends, resided in the hero-in-training tower. Because he had once had such a large family his room — something that was greatly unappreciated by the other members of the community — Shouto had to climb all the way to the top of the building.
No one else resided on this floor with him, which was often nice because it had once meant he and his family could do whatever they wished. But with their passing, it was so lonely, so offputting that Shouto only returned to his room to sleep and that was it.
The shower was comforting tonight, the gentle smell of the soap drafting off his body along with thick suds eased him. His shower lasted only a whooping two minutes; they had been taught how to efficiently shower, wasted water was always a downfall. Even with the major technological advances they made, running water was still a problem they had yet to solve. His dirty grimy skin that hadn’t showered in three days sang in relief with the dirt gone; his last seek was that many days ago after all.
With a towel around his waist, he walked back to his room, the suffocating darkness strangling him when he stepped into the room. Shouto paid no attention to the way his skin crawled in loneliness, his attention focused on placing the toothpaste pill on his tongue and grimacing at the sharp, minty taste. It seemed that Mei was messing around with the flavors again.
Finally satisfied with his clean-smelling breath, Shouto wasted no time in crawling into his bed, his eyes concentrated on his journal that read practically what was the same thing it always said every day he wrote an entry into it (the medics said that these entries were healthy for his mental wellbeing):
September 16, 2XX1
It’s been eight years since everyone died, and another day spent working. I’m not feeling any different from the day before, but I am looking forward to celebrating Yaoyorozu’s birthday this coming Saturday. It won’t be any different from last year, but it should be fun.
Signed, Todoroki Shouto
It took some time, but eventually sleep consumed Shouto, his mind restless despite his slumber.
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Shouto paused when the blood on the door handle easily transferred onto his fingers. He pressed his fingers to his palm, the padding on the fingerless glove shining dully with the slick of blood across the material. He could only make one conclusion from this: it was recent.
“I just made contact with fresh blood,” Shouto spoke into the radio system, his eyes concentrated on the door he was supposed to enter through. “I’m going in, if I don’t respond in five minutes, assume the worst and leave.”
“If it’s an injured Taoreta—” Bakugou warned, his voice the first to respond over the com system, but Shouto already knew what his best partner would say to this.
“Can’t have me having all the glory, I know. Besides, I don’t think it’s a Taoreta, there’s no major damage anywhere and well… if it’s injured there should be some fight scene.”
Shouto’s lips tugged into a small smile when Bakugou began to argue back about how he noticed there was no major destruction around this part of the block, and he dropped his scavenger bag onto the floor. If this was a survivor there was no saying if they were good or bad, and well, Shouto wasn’t about to fight a bad one with 10 kilograms on his back.
The door creaked loudly when he entered, his hand pulling out the hunting knife he had. The other day his typical go-to katana had been broken during a brief battle between a weak Taoreta and a veteran seeker. It had been a hard loss, Shouto wouldn’t lie, but it was manageable because his knives had been salvaged.
He crept in silently, the soles of his combat boots nearly silent against the floor while he walked in, his concentrated on the scene around him, all senses on high alert due to the insane anxiety from this all. His eyes dragged across every crook and nanny of the entrance room, not quite sure what to expected from this until he saw something ruby red smudged on the floor.
With a small nod to himself, Shouto proceeded forward, following the light trail of blood until he stopped into a room where the trail ended and no one was. He frowned looking around the abandoned room, old and long faded drawings covered the walls, the bed hastily made, and crayons scattered on the floor.
Maybe the person had already left, he thought glancing down at the crayons figuring that they would be good to take back. But the moment that he turned to face the door, was when he finally saw someone, and it was a good thing too because he ducked out of the way of a quick, most definitely life ending swing of a bat that held multiple nails in it.
Shouto’s eyes were wide while he dodged and weaved out of the way of the swinging bat, strong elbows bashing into his ribs, and the occasional nail tearing into his skin. He could barely focus on his attacker, his concentration heavy on the way that this person was tirelessly fighting for their life despite the exhaustion in their bones.
He weaved and dodged the flying wood, cursing at the way it nicked his skin in multiple places, and how their foot slammed into his stomach. It knocked the wind out of Shouto as he fell onto the floor, the wild look in their eyes as the bat arched downward only to miss him, embedding into the floor. Shouto took that as an initiative to slam his foot onto the hilt of the bat, the weapon clanging onto the floor while he tackled his attacker onto the floor.
“Let go!” you shrieked, your eyes in a panic while you attempted to twist your body out from under Shouto. “I’m not going to let you fucking kill me, you stupid fucking Taoreta!”
Now that bothered Shouto.
“I’m not some damn Taoreta!” Shouto spat back, his eyes narrowing down onto how you were struggling against his hold. Blood was dried and matted onto your forehead, dirt, grime, and soot-covered every exposed millimeter of your body, and blood-soaked your arm.
With that simple sentence, Shouto watched in almost confused annoyance when you snapped up to look at him. Your hair was matted, it was obvious that while you weren’t horrendously smelly, you hadn’t bathed in days. Your lips were cracked and pale, and your eyes looked so scared, lost, and still… excited? The tears that poured down your face highlighted the clearer skin that was covered by the dirt.
“Are you okay? You’re smiling pretty weir— mmph?!”
Shouto’s words were stolen from his tongue for you had reached upward in this desperate, frantic glee and kissed him firmly on the lips. It wasn’t often that Shouto froze, and honestly, he could count the number of times he had been frozen to the core, but with this desperate, longing kiss on his lips that exploded fire onto his cheeks, he was unable to move. He was only able to feel the wet streaks from your cheeks pressed onto his, focus on the heavy frantic breathing that passed through your nose.
His eyes blinked rapidly while you pulled away from him, a starstruck look on your face.
“It’s… it’s been a year since I’ve seen anyone who wasn’t a Taoreta,” you awe, fingers pressing onto his cheeks in an attempt to make sure this was actually real. “Are you real? You’re real right? Please don’t tell me you’re—”
“TODOROKI, ARE YOU ALIVE!” a voice bellowed, the door being kicked open, and both Shouto and you looked at the entrance of the room to see Bakugou standing there with his weapons drawn, teeth bared in a silent cry of war.
Shouto didn’t know what to do, feeling as if the world’s gravity was crushing onto him while he gathered the confused, appalled look in Bakugou’s eyes while he looked down onto the interesting position he was in. You, on the other hand, felt more tears forming in your eyes at the sight of yet another survivor.
“The fuck you playing hooky for?!” Bakugou yelled, his face contorted with disgust and something unreadable when staring at the position the two of you were in. “Who the fuck is this?!”
Shouto remained speechless, his mind still stuck on the fact that you had kissed him like separated lovers and not the strangers that you were. Worse off he was caught in an embarrassing position by Bakugou of all places who was quite frankly the meanest guard dog they had. You weren’t given a second to speak, to try to clarify who you were and why you were here because Bakugou clicked everything together far faster than you could defend yourself.
“Don’t tell me this is a fucking Taoreta with a damn love quirk!” Bakugou snapped, grabbing Shouto by the collar and throwing him off you.
Your eyes widened in a panic, the sickening sound of unsheathing steel ringing venomously in your ears while Bakugou drew dual arming swords. You scrambled backward immediately, hands finding the hilt of your bat and spinning up to your feet in a readying position. Like hell you were going to be murdered.
“Bakugou, stop!” Shouto yelled, pushing himself up onto his feet while the blond-haired man shot forward at you.
He cursed annoyedly, unable to intercept or intervene Bakugou’s explosive fighting style with just his knives. But he also realized that you weren’t failing at keeping Bakugou away with just a bat in the small room. Swings of steel and wood whistled in the air while the two of you went at it, useless battle soaked insults being thrown left and right while Shouto could only watch as the swords embedded into the bat, and then into a wall.
Shouto acted quickly, his arms circling under Bakugou’s armpits, his hands locking around his head and yanking him away.
“She’s not a damn Taoreta, she’s a survivor!” Shouto yelled again, both of them stumbling backward and landing on the floor while you remained frozen by the wall. Both the weapons stable in the wall despite the horror of what could have been the end of your life.
“How the fuck would you know that?! She could be brainwashing you for all we know!” Bakugou yelled, his body twisting and turning, trying to get out the larger mans hold. “Slimy little shit got you didn’t she?!”
“I’m not a Taoreta!”
“She’s not a Taoreta!”
You and Shouto yelled in synch, your fingers thrusting up to your eyes. “Do you see my sclera?! They’re not fucking red!”
The two men froze in their struggles to get the other to obey their commands, both raising their attention to you, shocked by what you said.
“What do you mean?” Shouto asked, his arms still holding Bakugou in place, his eyes landing on you confused.
You, on the other hand, froze. Your eyes blinked owlishly, fingers curling into a weak fist and placing onto your stomach, “Have you guys never noticed? Taoreta always has their scleras turn red and they grow darker with prolonged quirk use… that’s how you know how strong and how long they’ve been around. The stronger they are, the redder the sclera.”
“Get the fuck off me,” Bakugou growled, his body twisting against Shouto, but Shouto was too busy thinking about what you said, his mind sucked into his memories of that fateful night. “Bastard, I’m not gonna attack her! Let me fucking go already, dammit!”
Shouto let go immediately, watching as his friend rolled over onto his knees and stood up without a single hitch. Bakugou yanked his swords from the wall letting your bat fall onto the floor with a loud crash. His eyes burned into you, watching you with a borderline sneer until he walked away.
“Figure out what the fuck we’re doing with her, five minutes until we have to leave,” was the only thing Bakugou uttered before leaving the building.
“What to do with me?” you echoed, your fingers twitching down towards your bat. “Don’t tell me the first people I find in a year are cannibals!”
Shouto’s face twists while looking up at you, your hands once again grabbing your bat raising it up in an act of self-defense; agony and disbelief overflowing in your face. It was bleeding obvious now that you had been alone for ages, the already emotional polar ends of yourself revealed to Shouto even before he knew your name.
“You need to calm down, we’re not cannibals, Bakugou literally walked away. If we were, you would have been dead already,” Shouto reasoned, his hands held up in a signal of surrender while he stood. His words were calm and steady, his “We’re a part of a surviving group, and we have a base up on the mountain north from here. You’re the tenth person we’ve found out here, and if you would like, we can offer you a place.”
“How can I trust you? You could be some cult group for all I know! Using me as some breeding whore to bring the second coming of the taoreta!” you panicked, your eyes wild with the fabricated lies you were drawing in your mind. “I don’t have the hips to have a child! I won’t bear your dumb cult a child!”
Shouto blinked, a low headache forming behind his eyes while he looked at your heaving form. He studied you closer now, your bat was frozen in place while you stared back. Your cheeks were sunken from lack of nutrients, your lips pale and cracked, and your eyes (once you ignored the savage glint to it) were like glass. You were not okay, even if you had managed to fight both Bakugou and him, there was no doubting that you hadn’t eaten in days.
Shouto sucked in his cheeks, by the looks of it you were running on pure adrenaline at this point — not actual energy.
“Meet back at the car in five,” Kirishima’s voice rang in the headset, and Shouto’s mouth pursed.
“We’re not cannibals, or a cult, or whatever weird groups of people you’ve run into. We’re just… people trying to live to see the next day. Come with us, or not, I can’t convince you, but we have shelter... food, water, showers. If you want, we can be a place for you to stay, if you want.” Shouto speaks softly, his hands are lowered at his waist, trying to show that he wasn’t a threat to you. It didn’t matter to him if you went with them — you were just a stranger after all — but he wouldn’t feel right letting you go without trying to save you.
You hesitate, your eyes looking down at your feet while you contemplate. He remains quiet, the voices of his friends ringing in his ears while they communicate on their way back to the car. But finally, he saw something that confirmed he would take you back by force.
Blood dripped down your leg and fingertips, seeping into your clothes, staining the floor.
“I don’t want to die,” you confess, your voice small and scared. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
“I promise you won’t be alone; you won’t die on my watch… but you’re hurt,” Shouto reasoned, his body instinctually moving closer to you. You pressed against the back of the wall, the aggression in your body long having died out. “We can heal you, and if you don’t feel safe you’re welcome to leave—” his eyes hold yours, and he swears the world stills at this moment, he can hear nothing but your hammering heart and his own, “I promise you.”
You would later claim that you gave in because you were injured and exhausted, but your hand reached out with a tremble and took his steady one. It was weird, feeling his hand in yours, so calloused and worn. Even if all you felt were his fingers, this was the first time in forever since you had human contact. Despite everything going on, the own swinging egos in your mind that screamed at you to kill him or to kiss him more, sudden ease came over you. You didn’t trust him, you couldn’t — you weren’t that big of an idiot — but his dual colored eyes held yours steadily, warmly, safely and the only thing you could do was agree with him. Despite being brought up on one principle, one defining law, you broke it when it came down to this stranger before you.
No matter what happens, never trust anyone.
“I’m Todoroki Shouto, by the way,” Shouto finally introduced himself, his words breaking the silence that had fallen over the both of you while he guided you out of the house. “I’m apart of a surviving group called Yuuei, and we’ve been around for about a hundred years.”
“Y/l/n y/n,” you return with a grimace.
When was the last time you ever had to introduce yourself before? You had no memories of the last time you had to tell someone your name. His face lifted into a gentle smile, one that you couldn’t see as anything but being polite before he turned and began walking. His strides were long but quick, far outpacing you despite the obvious worry to your bleeding wounds.
You had been attacked earlier by some dying taoreta, and even with its dying breath, it was otherworldly powerful. The person who had nearly managed to slay the taoreta had been decapitated when you had accidentally stumbled on the screeching monster. Its fingers were blades made from its bones, and it had stabbed you before you could even fight back. The taoreta had destroyed the machete you had used as your main weapon, the splintering metal being what ended up killing the savage monster.
A ragged breath escaped you in the realization that you had survived that.
There was no stopping the onslaught of tears and sobs that ripped through your throat while Shouto pulled you after him. The stabbing blistering pain in your side and arm was throbbing while you tried to keep up. You had survived, the pain an undeniable testament to that, the bat dragging against the floor a reminder that you weren’t done just yet. Shouto’s eyes grazed over you, and you were grateful he didn’t say anything while you continued to cry, emotions, and relief washing over you.
Shouto’s face remained neutral if a little bit uncomfortable while he dragged you back to the car, his voice low and quiet while he informed the rest of his group that he wasn’t coming back alone.
Still, it was to no surprise that the moment Shouto stopped in front of the car four of the five others were on edge, looking down at his crying companion.
Midoriya, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Iida stood on the trunk of the car, their weapons were drawn towards you; hesitation and concern heavy in their eyes. Bakugou, who was driving the car, couldn’t even be bothered to look at you — after all, he had already okayed you. Well, Shouto thought he had okayed you, he wasn’t exactly clear on things like that. Besides, it wasn’t as if they came across many survivors to okay in the first place.
“Who is this?” Iida asked first, his eyes unwavering while you rubbed streaks of blood onto your face. “Is she dangerous?”
“I wouldn’t have brought her back if she was,” Shouto lifted an eyebrow, unamused with the stiffness in all their postures. “We disagreed earlier, but she thought I was a taoreta at first glance, it’s all good now.”
“And she’s okay now? She’s bleeding like a fuckton,” Kaminari squeaked, his fingers thrusting out to your blood-soaked clothes.
Honestly, it surprised Shouto just how weird his group of friends were. They were all unbelievably strong, each possessing the ability to have already successfully killed one taoreta, yet they were cowering in fear over you.
“Does she come from a group? Is she being followed?” Kirishima cautiously asked, his eyes leaving your body to scour the surrounding buildings. “Is she sick?”
Shouto looked behind him, his eyes taking in your paling and sullen form, you looked terrible.
Pressing his hand to your forehead, he felt your temperature with both his left and right side.
“No fever, but she’s bleeding obviously. I’m not sure if she obtained any injuries from fighting Bakugou or me,” Shouto explained clearly, only being able to answer one of those questions for you. “I can’t say if there’s a group around — or if she’s with one, but she said she’s been alone for a year.” His calculating gaze met the stubborn stares of his friends who could only stare at you, and a rush of annoyance flooded him while he ran a hand through his hair. “We don’t have time to argue though, the suns setting and we need to get back to base.”
“Put this on her,” Midoriya was the first to pull back, something that did not come as a surprise to Shouto, and he threw a bandana he typically wore around his wrist at Shouto. “If she’s not being followed, at the very least we can prevent her from relaying how she got to base.”
Shouto nodded, moving quickly to tie the green fabric around your eyes and piling you onto the trunk. Midoriya moved into the car with your new addition and sat next to Bakugou who floored the pedal and took off into the mountain.
UA truly was a blessing of a fort, not only was is incredibly huge, but it had natural barriers to act in their favor. And Shouto relaxed on the bed of the truck, his head pressing against the cold plastic, a hand resting on the items he had recovered for the day, and the other one still holding onto yours.
He tried to ignore the way they continued to stare at you in distrust despite having all your weapons inside the car so that he could sleep, but eventually, he gave up. His eyes continuing to glare back at his friends until they dropped their gaze on you. He knew you weren’t a threat, and like hell he was going to let them treat you like one.
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
When the bandana-blindfold came off your eyes, your hand in Shouto’s began to sweat profusely. Your wounds had stopped bleeding thanks to the green-haired boy’s ministrations, but you definitely felt lethargic from the loss of blood.
Blinking rapidly, you looked around, freezing when you saw that the group of six men had expanded to much larger numbers of only men. Breeding cult, your mind hissed and you felt your hands twitch, a nervous thought to grab the weapons you no longer had.
“You’re scaring her!” a voice yelled, and your head snapped towards a voice you couldn’t see. “Who wants to wake up to a sea of scraggly, ugly men?”
Your jaw slacked when you saw a pink-skinned woman shove her way through the crowd to stand before you. No way in hell was she not a taoreta!
“Hi! My name is Ashido Mina, and I know what you’re thinking,” she spoke, her arms crossing against her chest while a prideful smirk spread across her face. “How is she so hot?”
Maybe if it had been a day where you weren’t half dead, lacking a needed amount of blood, and much more in control of your emotions, you wouldn’t have burst out in laughter. Your dirty fingers pressed onto your mouth while you tried to play off your peals of laughter to no success.
“Oh, I like this one already,” Mina grinned, her hands pressing onto the edge of the truck to look at you closer. “However, my skin is pink because of a dying accident gone wrong when I was a child. It was as permanent as permanent can get so… please don’t think I’m a taoreta!”
You nodded your head, your body wincing with the stabbing pain, and Shouto was quick to notice that you were still in pain.
“Mina, can we walk and talk?” Shouto asked, his hand pressing to your spine in order to get you to start moving, even without permission to do so. “Y/l/n has three wounds that need to be tended to; she already lost a lot of blood. You can do your welcoming thing and interrogation while she gets patched up by Shuzenji.”
Mina pouted; a sound of discontent with the arising situation, but she nodded. Shouto’s lips pressed into a thin-lipped smile, and with Mina’s help, they guided you off the car and onwards towards the infirmary.
“I’m not going to be killed, am I?” you ask, knowing it was far too late for your cold feet to be kicking in. “I never thought I’d be killed by humans.”
“God, no! Shuzenji is the best medic in the world, hands down. She’s gonna patch ya up, and I’ll talk with you while she does that, and then we’ll find out our best course of action afterward!” Mina exclaimed, her hand repositioning your weak arm around her shoulder. “I swear it won’t be that hard!”
True to her word, you were not killed.
In fact, the only scary thing you were met with was an angry, just woken up from her slumber, elder woman. After she had yelled at the crowd of men who had followed after you to leave you alone given that you were her patient, she had taken you inside with Mina. But you had panicked when she tried to get Shouto to step away, your hand which had not separated from his since the moment you had left the house unwilling to let go of him. So, he was permitted to stay.
You sat on an old infirmary bed, your pinky still touching Shouto’s while Shuzenji — nicknamed Recovery Girl by the surviving group — tended to your wounds. You answered a whole lot of questions from Mina while trying not to let your pain bleed into your voice.
You told them your birthday, your age, the last time you were sick, how long you’ve been alone (you couldn’t say why you were alone), and how you got those injuries of yours.
They had been impressed with your confession that it was from killing a taoreta, even a critically injured one was monstrously powerful after all, and Shouto would argue the ones on the brink of death were stronger than when fully healed. Mina, however, was a great conversationalist and did exceptionally well at making you feel comfortable despite everything.
They took your height, weight, blood type, and hell, Recovery Girl even tested your blood for infections you might have not known you had. She was a medical genius — a true benefit to being in this base. Despite her previous anger, she ended up being a very sweet woman, caring and charming while she fixed you up — cleaning and bandaging your wounds before leaving by giving you a homemade sweet and an orange to eat.
“Alrighty, y/n-chan,” Mina chirped, her hands pulling out a clipboard which seemed to come out from nowhere while she scribbled things down with a series of successive nods. “You have checked out perfectly in our first-day system, of course for you to be implemented in our system — should you want to do that — there will be voting on Thursday! Well, tomorrow really! In the meantime for tonight we would have to find you somewhere to sleep…” her voice trailed off while she contemplated your options. You continued to stare up at her with unknowing confused eyes, trying your best to keep the storming anxiety in your stomach at bay. “We have a few rooms that are open, but… no offense we can’t trust you yet, so we’ll have to put you somewhere with someone. I can ask Tsuyu?”
“She can stay with me,” Shouto spoke, his face expressionless, but his eyes soft. “I have one of the biggest rooms; it’s not that big a deal.”
Your anxiety lessened while you looked over at Shouto, unable to keep yourself from staring at him. Mina had no objections to this, a grateful smile falling over her features while she nodded, “Okay! I’ll send up a clean change of clothes if you need any? I have quite a lot.”
“That would be appreciated, thank you.”
“If she showers, you won’t be able to tonight. Mei destroyed a pipe by accident while trying to create a useable water source — it worked for two hours before breaking, so I think Yuuei will have constant running water by Momo’s birthday!” Mina chirped, her hands pressing the clipboard to her stomach. “But you’re good to go! Please still be mindful of any diseases though, just because you were cleared of the basic ones doesn’t mean you’re clean.”
You nodded watching as she too left you alone with Shouto.
“My room is on the fourteenth floor, do you think you can handle walking up that many flights of stairs?” Shouto asked, his hand steadying you while you slid onto your feet.
Despite everything, you were already feeling better. Your head while feeling a bit light was nothing compared to the groggy headache you had once had.
“I might need some help, but I think… I think, for now, I should be okay,” you inform Shouto, and he nods in understanding.
So the two of you in a weird silence, eventually made your way up to his floor, your body shaking by the time you walked onto the floor, but your hand never leaving his. He showed you the room the two of you would be in, and true to his word, it was large. There were two tatami mats, one by a window, and the other by the door. Random items littered the walls and the floors, most of which were toys and things to pass time with, but it was so unnaturally domestic to you, you didn’t know how to react. It was now that he let go of your hand altogether (an action that made you realize just how touch-deprived you’d been), leaving you to take in the state of his room while he walked around.
“You… you don’t have to give up your shower for me,” you spoke while watching Shouto rummage through his things, procuring a dry and clean towel for you. “I haven’t showered in some time, and I don’t want to make you be in your dirt for longer than needed.”
Shouto looked at you, his head tilting slightly before he shook his head. He walked over to you with his shower things, handing over the shampoo, conditioner, and soap. “You need to clean up because you have wounds, I’m fine. Besides… you stink more than me anyway.”
The truth to his words made your cheeks burn, but there was no judgment in his eyes while he leaned against the wall. You stood there by him unable to think of anything to say until Mina’s fist knocked against the opened door.
“Here are your clothes! Some PJs and extra clothes! I didn’t know if you had any extra clean clothes or your size but with your measurements, I took a wild guess. I hope they fit! I took the liberty of bringing you what I could spare!”
“There are way more clothes than that,” Shouto commented, his eyes judging the pink-skinned girl.
“Sorry that I’m assigned to clothes and have to follow code!” Mina huffed, her cheeks brightening with embarrassment before she stuck out her tongue and ran away leaving both of you alone once again. With the clean set of clothes and the ability to finally fo what you must, you asked where the shower was, and Shouto brought you to where the shower was located on the floor.
You hated to admit it, but you were sincerely grateful he let you shower. Your fingers worked out the many day’s old dirt from your hair, the soap sudding against your skin while you scrubbed weeks old layers from your skin until it throbbed in its rawness. You left the shower with a wince from your now healing wounds, but feeling a sense of freshness you hadn’t known in a while.
The PJs you were given were just a pair of sweatpants and a sweater, something you were grateful for, especially as the material was soft and warm against your cold skin. When you pushed into the room, you noticed that Shouto was sitting on the mat nearest to the door — leaving you with the one by the window.
A small lamp was by Shouto, and you couldn’t tell what he was writing while you piled onto your tatami, your fingers immediately grabbing the blankets that sat at the end of the mat before pulling it over your body. You stared at Shouto in silence, unable to simply fall asleep, your thoughts much too fascinated with him. Why had he done this all? You had attacked him and his friend; yet here he was, doing much more than what you could have ever asked from him.
“Will I fit in?” you ask quietly, your eyes concentrating up onto the ceiling. “Will I be voted out?”
There was a prolonged silence, a bit too long for your own liking while serious doubts threaded into your pool of anxiety.
“You’ll fit in,” Shouto spoke, his words clear and confident. “I promised you’d be okay, didn’t I?”
Your head nods, although you are unsure whether or not he saw you doing so.
“So it’s always perfect in here? There isn’t… there isn’t any dangerous taoreta lurking around, is there?”
“No,” Shouto softly says, and you turn your head, your wet hair pressing onto your cheek while watching as he puts a journal down. “To both questions. We’re human, drama and issues always arise, but things always end up okay. UA is also on a mountain surrounded by woods, most taoreta don’t bother making their way up here, especially since we have traps up. But dangerous ones tend to appear during rainy days — especially during winter.”
“Why’s that?” you ask in a small, small voice. It was fall right now after all.
Shouto met your gaze, his eyes swimming with emotions you couldn’t read, but thoughts that screamed that he was unsure whether he should tell you. Was there a reason to make you worry right now?
“During the winter we don’t have any protection. We have Gladiolus flowers planted all around the mountain just to keep taoreta away, and while they die during the fall, they’re still not decayed entirely so… they’re still useful. We can only use Gladiolus oil on the barrier of UA during the winter, meaning that taoreta can climb the hill and find us if they’re lucky enough. But when it rains, the oils washed off, and with the Gladiolus all dead, we’re exposed.” he explains to you in earnest and you nod numbly, your heart already hammering away.
You wished you had known that months ago…
“You okay?”
The tears in your eyes refused to stop falling down your face while horror consumed your bones. One year alone, countless nights spent in fear that someone would discover you while you were asleep, and hatred for the world burned in every cell of your body pouring over as bitter, useless tears while you gasped for air.
“W-Will you… can you hold my hand?” you gasped, your body burning in your embarrassment and fear. “I can’t stop thinking that I’m… am I safe?”
You couldn’t see anything, the tears in your eyes blinding you completely.
It had been such a hard, difficult, death-defying day and you were finally processing it all.
A hand held onto yours mid muffled sob, and comfort washed over you slightly but not enough.
You would fall asleep shortly afterward, your body rattled with your hiccuping sobs, and your face puffy and swollen from your tears. Shouto could only stare at your slumbering form, the tension, and anxiety heavy on your face despite passing on to the land of dreams. With a soft ache in his heart for you, he turned off the light, his hand still in yours, his tatami mat pressed next to yours.
And as sleep consumed him too, his journal which was the most unique entry he’s written since his adolescence rang clearly in his head:
September 20, 2XX1
It’s been eight years since everyone died, and another day spent working. Today was different, something new happened today. I found a survivor who tried to kill me, her name is y/l/n y/n. I don’t know much about her, but she’s different. I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but I hope she’ll be happy.
Signed, Todoroki Shouto
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It was Momo’s birthday today.
It was also the fourth day since you had entered the base, and with your entrance, things had become different around UA. During the first morning, people had hung on your every word, blatantly fascinated with you even if they were a bit apprehensive. The council also allowed you to stay, which had left you an emotional mess.
With you being new and injured, it was proclaimed that you could have a week to rest and adjust to the society found within the barriers of the old school. You were to be placed with the janitors the moment your allowed rest was over. You were given clothes, plates and utensils, and bathroom items, all of which you took with a watery smile.
As for your living situation, you were to stay with Shouto until he thought it was best that you left. It wasn’t something you were against at all — right now he was the only person you sincerely trusted and got along with. Shouto also did not mind, in fact he rather enjoyed having someone else fill the emptiness of his room.
Overall, it was going well, but the most important thing was happening today.
You would be put into a group of Shouto’s closest and best friends.
He had briefly explained to you who they all were because you had asked the night before, your stomach twisting in thought that maybe they wouldn’t like you.
But with Momo turning twenty, Shouto immediately warned you the type of party it was going to be. With the mass majority of their friends being seekers and therefore getting to claim first dibs on items, alcohol and weed were going to be used.
So there you stood three hours into a pretty fun party, your nose twitching at the nasty but sweet smell of marijuana and the bittersweet smell of alcohol on all of their breaths. You stood by the group of girls watching as Momo bashfully chugged a bottle of wine with the dignity of an extremely classy person and not the trashiness that was actually true of this all.
Your hand waved in front of you, once again denying the joint that was being passed around and the bottle of liquor trying to be handed to you. Recovery Girl had appeared before you earlier today while you were exploring the campus only to warn you what would happen should you participate in these actions while healing still. To say the least you wouldn’t even tempt the idea.
“So how is Mr. Todoroki?” Mina asked, her arm slumping over your shoulder while she chugged her bottle of who knows what. “Didya know he was the only one no one could ever get to date!?”
Your brows furrowed while you continued to try to find Shouto yourself. He had sort of left you alone and your anxiety always bayed with him in sight.
“We all dated around the circle of friends,” a girl with the palest skin you’ve ever seen before — Hagakure — explained. “The only one none of us could crack was Todoroki-kun, which lemme tell you seemed much more possible than Bakugou!”
You recognized and was able to put a face to the name Bakugou, but that information didn’t really surprise you. In your old group, it wasn’t that much different. There wasn’t anything to help you meet anyone, and so dating was something you did with everyone in your age group. But Shouto seemed very sweet, a genuinely good person that had you unbelieving of him never having dated.
“He’s still never had his first kiss!” Uraraka, a girl with a permanent blush on her face even without liquor in her blood, slurred with a wink. “Most girls just make him so nervous.”
Never… he’s never had his first kiss?! You took his first kiss?!
“Fucking shit!” you exclaimed, your hands pressing to your cheeks while you shook your head, your heart hammering away while you stepped away from the group of girls whose attention was captured by a frog impersonation by Tsuyu.
Shame and guilt sat heavy in your stomach and you walked away, the memory of you first meeting with Shouto replaying over and over in your head. You wanted to go sleep now, your heart hammering in your cheeks in past embarrassment for your actions. It had just been so long since you had seen a friendly face, and you had gotten overexcited.
Shouto, who had been slowly sipping from his cup of sake, saw your retreating form and instantly downed the rest of his sweet liquor. He had been pleased you had gotten along with his group of friends, most especially the girls. Through the past four days he had tried to introduce you to them all so that this party wouldn’t overwhelm you, and seeing that you had managed to stay in a conversation with them without him being there seemed like a positive improvement to him.
That is until you turned on your heel and walked away from the group, your eyes glass, and your steps quick.
He followed you out of the gym which is where they had all been in, his hands shoving into his pockets while he waited for you to turn around. But it seemed that you were deep in thought because you didn’t even seem to detect his presence. So, he opened his mouth, his lips quirking upward in amusement.
“Are you going back to the room?”
“Shit!” you jumped, your eyes wide and nearly crazed while you turned towards him, but a wave of regret his your face and Shouto knew you overexerted your injury. “Sorry, Shouto, I didn’t see… I didn’t hear you there.”
“Are you going back to the room?” he asked again, his head tilting in curiosity.
You nodded your head, your smile soft, “I was really tired, and I didn’t want to drag you away from your friend’s party. Don’t worry about me, you can stay, I’ll be fine!”
Shouto shook his head, moving so that he was standing right next to you, “It’s getting late and I’m seeking tomorrow. I have to rest, can’t do my job correctly while fighting a hangover.”
“It would really suck to know that you died on the job, I can’t imagine what I would do with all that space you would leave for me,” you tease, your smile small while he rolls his eyes.
“We’ve known each other four days and you’re already trying to kill me off? That’s a bit cruel, isn’t it?” Shouto asks, his hand sticking out for you to hold on to should you want to, and you do without question. It was a habit the both of you had quickly formed within four days, but it wasn’t going to die anytime soon, not with the night terrors you had at least.
“It’s the perks of being my friend,” you insist, your head nodding in finality, and Shouto begins to walk. You follow him swiftly and surely, but the same thoughts that plagued your mind began to resurface in your temporary silence. “Was I your first kiss?”
Shouto looked down at you, his eyes unable to be read by you, but the slight perk in his mouth let you know that he was amused and not offended.
“Why do you want to know?”
You sigh, your thoughts falling onto the giggling group of girls before.
“Well, your friends said you were the only one who never…”
“Yes?”
“Never took their advances, and they all said they haven’t kissed you before!”
Shouto opens the door to the building, letting you in. “You were my first kiss.”
You shudder, the horror of a story that would be with him for the rest of his life. An injured lunatic laying one on him without a second thought.
“Why was I your first kiss?” you ask, unsure as to why you were so curious about needing this information from Shouto.
“Because I never dated anyone before,” Shouto simply stated, his hands holding yours gently while you climbed the stairs that still winded you by the tenth flight.
“But why?” you find yourself pestering for more, your thoughts unable to figure out why he wouldn’t. There was no denying that he was incredibly handsome, stupidly so — even you had to admit that from the first glance you had of him. The girls also saw that — it was very obvious, so what was missing?
He was silent for some time, and it was something that you had already grown used to. His pauses happened when he didn’t have a clear thought, and while it didn’t happen often, it was enough for you to have already picked up on.
“During my school years I was more focused on other things,” Shouto confessed, pausing on a stair to allow you to gain your breath. “Something happened with my family and it took a lot of my time and energy away.”
While you knew that his family wasn’t in the picture anymore, you had no idea what had happened to them. You contemplated asking about it or not, your teeth tearing into your bottom lip while he stared down at you. The question was evident on your face though, most definitely screaming on top of your lungs despite you not uttering a single word.
“I’m not ready to talk about it yet, sorry,” Shouto confessed, and you nodded your head, you understood the feeling.
“Maybe one day I’ll tell you about my story too, one day we’ll both be ready, right?” you asked, your feet already making its way up the staircase even before he did.
Shouto smiled just the tiniest bit broken, and he nodded his head, continuing up the stairs after you with a sense of relief rushing through him
“Of course.”
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“Oh my god, it’s freezing.”
“I told you it was going to be cold, its November!”
You pressed the winter coat to your body even tighter, somehow you wanted the threads to become even closer than a second skin.
It had been two months since you had managed to find yourself in the same area as Todoroki Shouto, and so far, not a single day went by where you regretted it. Hell, even the wounds on your body had become purpling scars and eventually disappeared altogether. In two months the two of you had become quick and strikingly close friends, the both of you naturally growing closer due to sharing and living in the same quarters.
All in all the relationship sprouted between the two of you was genuine and different from other relationships in the base.
While most of each other’s past was still relatively unknown, both of your abilities to open up about what had happened in the past faulty and fell flat more often than not. It was honestly weird just how unable you both were able to talk about your past: the mile-long stare in your eyes, the tears, the anxiety-ridden dreams. Shouto had no idea that he still screamed for his family at night before you moved in, and you had no doubt that you would wake up shrieking.
Of course, these terrors had subsided by a landslide the second you both decided to try something new out: holding hands at night had become sleeping side by side. It was definitely a weird new inclusion by both of your standards. Most mornings you woke up utterly tangled in each other’s limbs, the person who woke up first being the one in charge of detangling and denying that they had become that entangled. But hey, that’s sort of what happened when both he and you were desperately trying to deny the softly burning embers of a beginning relationship.
But how could you begin to forget that you had been integrated into the Yuuei community very quickly, and nicely at that? After Momo’s birthday, you managed to earn a spot in the girl group, most meals having them coming to find you and sit with you. That was something you appreciated especially on the days that Shouto wasn’t on base. Even the guys who had once been wary of you entering their car had accepted you wholeheartedly. Although you hated being a janitor, you had to admit it was the only job you were capable of handling at the time.
You weren’t handy with machines to be an engineer, the only first aid you knew wasn’t even good enough to land you as medical assistance, your education wasn’t anywhere near as thorough as the one implemented here, and your cooking skills were subpar. In all actuality, you longed to be a seeker, but the outdoors were still something you weren’t ready for.
Shouto and you had learned that old habits died hard, and well, until you were ready to be a team player and no longer thought about your survival and your survival only, you would remain in your janitor position.
But you found yourself climbing onto the rooftop floor with Shouto for one reason and one reason only.
Despite his lavish education growing up, he had stupidly asked you what the hell a constellation was.
While you hadn’t known that there was a difference between a meteoroid and an asteroid, you were pleasantly surprised and leagues excited at finally being an expert on something that he wasn’t. Stars and constellations had been your only guides and stories for quite a while after all.
But with Shouto’s judgmental eyes on you, and the shifting of your weight to keep warm, you tilted your head back to look up at the painted night sky.
“Not all of us are abnormally super-weirdo hot all the time,” you accused, the fur lining of the jacket pressing onto your cold lips. The jacket had been a gift from Shouto, a clothing item that had somehow survived being eaten by moths that he had presented to you on your first month anniversary of being on UA.
“That just sounds like you’re jealous,” Shouto countered, his body moving to stand next to yours. He was in a light sweater and regular clothes, you had no idea how he wasn’t cold at this point. But you chose to ignore it, your lips pouting while the both of you sank to the ground, the soft blanket beneath you doing little to cushion your head against the concrete roof. “So… which constellations are in the sky right now?”
“Andromeda, Cassiopeia, Cepheus, Cetus, Hydrus, Phoenix, Pisces, Sculptor, and Tucana,” you listed without a hitch, the names meaning nothing to Shouto but didn’t stop the impressed look on his face.
“Do they had stories behind them?” he asked, his warm breath misting in the air while you adjusted closer to his left side, your frozen hand held tightly by his warm one. He shifted his gaze back down to you, his eyes focused on your wandering ones that drank in the beautiful night sky.
“Only the best stories,” you grinned, your attention shifting over to Shouto while a glint sparked in your eye. “They’re a bit western and a lot of years old if you want to hear them?”
Shouto nodded his head. There wasn’t anything more than he would like to do except be by your side and just listen to you talk and talk, especially if that meant you would forget what you were saying or your instructional material would become a sidetracked rant that he would listen to with clear fascination and teasing intrigue.
“Okay, I guess I’ll start with Andromeda!” you nodded your head, your finger thrusting towards the masses of stars that Shouto had no ability to piece together to become the young woman who was sacrificed to the Cetus.
Still, he pretended he could see the constellation because you wouldn’t begin any tale without making sure he could point them out. But there was no denying that he was baffled and in love with every part of your stories. It really wasn’t the fact that the stories were interesting to him, as a matter of fact, Shouto was rather bored with the dramatic Greecian tales for the constellations in the sky, but it was you that made it interesting.
Even with your hand in his, your arms threw around animatedly as part of your dramatic reenactment of these tales and myths. Your passions being felt without mistake while you taught Shouto about the night sky.
No matter how passionate you were about teaching Shouto about the constellations, the cold won out, in the end, sending the both of you back into the room before you could explain the story you knew about Tucana.
“Did you learn anything new tonight?” you asked, your body curled up into the blankets of your tatami, waiting for Shouto to finish his journal to come and provide you extra warmth.
“I guess I did,” Shouto confirmed, his head nodding while he continued to scribble down his thoughts. But there was something to his tone that you found suspicious, your eyebrows narrowing when you saw the slight crease in his cheeks from the smile on his face.
“Why you smiling like that for!” you whine, your cocooned legs thrashing in your childish tantrum. “Was there something on my face the entire time?”
“There was something on your face the entire time, but it wasn’t anything embarrassing,” Shouto promised, his hands gathering his journal, light, and pencil and putting them aside before coming to lay beside you, his body pressed behind yours, his warmth already sinking through your blankets.
“That’s what you said when I had a sticker on my forehead for an entire day,” you pout, your eyes already feeling heavy with his warmth pressed against you.
“You were cute,” he admitted, his voice that was heavy with exhaustion tickling the exposed skin of your neck. He closed his eyes, allowing for sleep to consume him while he uttered his last words of the day. “I don’t care for stars and such… but if you’re gonna do stuff like that… who knows, maybe I’ll grow to love them.”
His words sank a hot stone in your stomach, and the goosebumps and butterflies that raised against your entire body refused to subside until you finally managed to fall asleep yourself, one final thought passing through your swollen bitten lips. “You can’t just stuff like that and expect me to not have feelings...”
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March was the first month of spring, and while you had survived a full winter without a taoreta attack at UA there was no denying that you felt like you had gotten away easy. The uneasy feeling in your stomach was heightened today before Shouto had left for his typical job as a seeker. You had barely managed to wake up that morning to see him off, but the moment he had left, you were unable to stay asleep, a pit of worry growing cancerously in your stomach.
You spent the rest of your morning tidying up the room, cleaning and organizing the “chaos” of the room because there wasn’t anything better you could do until on your day off.
As a matter of fact, you went on to join Mina at her checkout position today. The pink-skinned girl had recently begun to wear a horned headband which really pulled together the taoreta vibe she already gave off, but she was nice to distract yourself with while a haunted feeling gloomed over you the entire day. She had talked through your fear, pinning your anxiety on your recently admitted to affections towards Shouto and noot wanting him to be injured while on his job. You had agreed it was most likely that but even as the day continued you couldn’t tear your gaze from the entrance.
But as Mina was cleaning off a weapon that had been used yesterday she froze.
You looked up at her, your eyes studying the way that her hand pressed into the radio that was placed in her ear, relaying a message you only wished you could hear.
“How far away?!” Mina yelled into the system, her body moving to grab another radio set. “How many were hurt?!”
Just like that, a nausea heavy anxiety rocketed through your body, your limbs trembling while Mina seemed to keep her own panic under control.
“Medics,” MIna yelled into the com system, her voice projecting all over the school grounds. “Come in medics, this is Mina. Report to the main gates immediately. We have an incoming group of four hurt seekers from a taoreta attack. I repeat we have an incoming group of four hurt seekers. Three are minimal, one is critical. Ready blood type O immediately.”
Your skin crawled at that information, Shouto was the only one with blood type O going out today.
He wasn’t the critically hurt one, you thought, watching as a crowd of medics rushed to the gate, no doubt readying to take the critical patient to Recovery Girl the moment the car crashed through campus. But as the car you knew as the same one that brought you here slammed to a stop by the entrance, nausea hit you when you saw that it was Kirishima and Iida who were driving.
Three slightly bleeding friends of yours were pulled from the truck and you felt the world go silent when none of them were Shouto. The screams and shouts of medical instructions went unheard by you when you saw Shouto’s bloody, torn up body being transported onto a gurney, a bloodline immediately hooked as they ran away.
You couldn’t hear anything or see anything but the sunken dip in Shouto’s cheeks.
Was he going to live?
You weren’t even aware of your own hyperventilation until Mina shoved you onto the floor, her golden-yellow eyes wide with worry and distress for you, but her words remained deaf on your ears, unable to pierce the stress ringing in your ears.
Was he going to leave you too?
~
Shouto’s eyelids felt heavier than lead when he finally woke up.
The bright white light of the hospital room almost blinding him while he groaned. What had happened?
A fuzzy memory of running into a taoreta with savage storm powers replayed in his head. He had almost sacrificed himself to save the group, the damn monster had the strength of Hercules and slashing wind that he cut Shouto up on numerous occasions. He had sworn he had gone under multiple times, but each time it felt like there was something stopping him, keeping him from leaving.
He wouldn’t have minded leaving, there wasn’t much here, to begin with. At least not after the demise of his entire family.
“So you’re finally away, Todoroki,” a gentle withered voice intercepted his thoughts, and Shouto turned his head with a pained grimace to see Recovery Girl checking his vitals. “I’m glad to see that you’re conscious of whats going on. You’ve woken up multiple times already but would seize before passing out.”
“Am I... am I alive?” Shouto asked, his tongue feeling like sandpaper in his mouth.
A folder of papers crashed against his already throbbing head, and Shouto cursed while Recovery Girl fumed. “Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I’m kicking the bucket any time soon!”
Despite the pain, Shouto smiled softly, his head nodding in understanding.
“Besides, if you died I would have personally prayed for your soul because it looked like y/n-chan would have appeared on death’s door herself to bring you back,” she mused, her gloved finger pointing at your passed out figure on the other side of the bed.
Shouto’s eyes widened at the sight of you, something warm curling in his stomach seeing you there. But he frowned at the way your face was exhausted and thinner from the last time he had seen you.
“How long was I—?”
“A bit longer than two weeks.”
Holy shit that was a long time.
“We almost lost you a few times, but for some reason you always did better when she was holding your hand… it’s weird, but it worked — saved your life even. You owe that girl a big thank you, she’s done a lot.”
Shouto nodded numbly, his mind moving faster than he cared for while Recovery Girl finished her tendings to him before eventually leaving him alone. He had done better when you held his hand…
He looked down at his wrapped arms, now beyond grateful that they had been stockpiled on medical supplies because had they not they would have most likely decided saving him was a waste of resources. His hand moved to rest on your propped elbow, but the moment he touched your skin, your head popped up.
Shouto stared at you, and you stared back.
Bloodshot exhausted eyes meeting sullen ones, and Shouto barely had time to smile before tears sprung into your eyes.
“You almost died,” came a bitter hello, and it shocked Shouto. He hadn’t expected such a cold greeting from you. “Y-You promised you wouldn’t get hurt on these expeditions.”
You knew promises like that one were childish — it was a promise that couldn’t be kept in this society, but it was one he had still made to me.
“I promised I wouldn’t die,” Shouto countered, his hands pulling to rest on his lap, knowing that having contact with you was probably what wasn’t needed at the moment. “I didn’t, by the way.”
“You died three times while they were saving you!” you spat, angry heavy tears rolling down your cheeks. “You died and all I could do was watch! You l-lied!”
Shouto wasn’t sure how to react, on one hand he wanted to snap back at you, his own frustrations at you just not being happy to see him awake and functional made him upset because he was beyond relieved to see you here, but on the other hand, he wondered why you were so shaken at this “lie.”
“Why does it matter if I lied?” Shouto whispered, his attempt to keep his voice from showing any signs of anger passing. “It wasn’t something I did out of self-sacrifice, but because it’s what the group needed.”
You remained silent, your nostrils flaring with your uncovered emotions and thoughts, but Shouto wanted to know your thoughts, your emotions, your feelings. Despite the lengths the both of you had made in understanding each other, there was still so much hidden from both of your pasts, the thought of hurting so much more when being honest about them prohibiting the both of you from sharing.
“Y/n… come one, speak to me…”
“My parents said the exact same thing before they died,” you spoke with emotions tight in your throat. Your tongue passed your lips in an anxious matter, and you shook your head. “My group was murdered by taoreta a year before you met me. I had been sick at the time… the flu had gotten to me, so I was always left alone at our base while they all went out hunting. It was my family and twenty others… I had… I had a bad feeling the morning they died, but no one believed me because I was sick. I made them promise they’d come back alive, and they did! But while they always returned a bit after dusk, no one ever showed up.” Shouto’s stomach curled, already guessing the rest of your story, but there was no need to guess, you were finishing the tale that still haunted your life. “The next morning I was essentially fine, so I packed up my things and went to search for them. My group always left a rock trail to get back… I was going to follow the trail to find them. And I did find them… but… they were all dead. I saw my mom's torso here, my dad's head there. I couldn’t even recognize anyone's bodies, but the smell… I still smell it at night sometimes… rotting flesh and the whimpers of one of my friends who was still dying when I got there!”
The tears on your cheeks rolled down unashamedly, but your body shook with emotions, your breathing shallow and sparse, most definitely not intaking the needed amount of oxygen you needed. But with this insight, so many things made sense to Shouto. Weird personality traits of yours for the first time having reason for their rhyme.
“I don’t want to be told you’ll be okay and find you dead one day… you were dead and I thought… it felt like I was back there again! I haven’t been there since January and… god, Shouto, I can’t have you dying like that!”
His heart hurt for you, and his eyes found yours again.
“I lost my family eight years ago,” Shouto confessed, his hand stretching out for you to take, and he relaxed when you accepted his offer. “My father and oldest brother had found a group of survivors who were harboring a taoreta who was only twenty-four at the time. We didn’t know they were a taoreta, and we didn’t know that they were turning twenty-five the next day. My family brought them back to base and took them into our room because we had the largest one. I was with… I was with Midoriya, Bakugou, and Kirishima that day, the four of us had decided that we were going to camp out on the track… I didn’t get to even say goodbye to anyone. The next morning there was an explosion in the cafeteria and my family along with the surviving group and taoreta had been killed. It was… horrible… and even though it was years ago, I still feel like it was yesterday. It could have been me there with them — and I felt… I felt like for the longest time that I should have died with them…”
“Shouto,” you whispered, your tears no longer angry but so sad for the man you had fallen for. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”
Shouto smiled painfully, his shoulders shrugging while he exhaled, tears trailing down his face while a weird sense of relief washed over him. “It’s okay. It’s hard and all, but it’s comforting to know that I wasn’t the only one fucked over by a taoreta.”
Your eyes softened and a snort left your nose while you shook your head, “I think we’ve all been fucked over by them, wouldn’t you agree?”
There was an agreeing noise that passed Shouto’s lips that died as quickly as it had started when your lips pressed to the corner of his mouth, not quite a kiss, but close enough to a kiss that had skyrocketed his heart rate.
“I’m glad you’re still alive though, Shouto,” you whisper, pulling away from him, your lips forever imprinted onto his skin. “I don’t think I would be able to live in that big old room all by myself.”
Shouto cleared his throat, his eyes glinting everso mischievously, “I definitely would had stuck around to haunt you.”
He wouldn’t confess to it at this moment, but his heart definitely skipped a beat at the sight of your glowing smile, and the laugh that escaped your lips.
“I’m sure you would’ve.”
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It was raining.
The chaos of the outside world had once again found its way into Yuuei’s safezone, and everything was going to shit. You had woken up to the sound of rain, your body curled onto Shouto’s and your mind not thinking much of the pittering rain that fell from the sky. You were content in his warm embrace, just grateful to have more time with the sleeping man. It had taken him five months to fully recover from his attack, and he had just recently resumed his job as a seeker two months ago.
Right now it was December, it had been past a full year since your arrival here, and you definitely were content here.
Your relationship with Shouto has definitely become… muddied in the past few months. Kisses had been exchanged on multiple occasions, the both of you practically acting like a couple despite not having coined your relationship. Despite the both of you coming clean with your past, there was still hesitation to make things official, with both of you not wanting to hear that either one of you had died (you had become a seeker during his time of recovery just so you could get him more shower times, plus you missed scavenging in the outdoors). Secret kisses were exchanged between you like blackmarket deals, but still the hesitant riding heavy in both your bones prevented anything from happening.
But that was okay for now, as long as you were the only one Todoroki Shouto was kissing, you were okay with that. Burying your nose into his chest, you allowed for sleep to consume you into its clutches. Today was both your days off after all.
Seconds before sleep could reclaim you, a long three part bell was heard that instantly had both you and Shouto rocketing upward. A long bell was a part of the warning system, and each part meant something.
One long ring was a storm.
Two long rings was a group of survivors.
Three long rings was a taoreta.
Both you and Shouto scurried to your feet, throwing on the first set of clothes you could find, and desperately putting on your shoes while your heart hammered. You hadn’t fought a taoreta since the year before, and with the explosion outside you could only begin to imagine what this was going to mean for you all.
“Y/n!” Shouto called for you while you pulled on your jacket. You looked at him, your hands mid-pulling your hair out of your face. “Come back alive.”
You didn’t say anything, his clothes and shoes already on; ready to go out and fight. But in a kiss akin to that of your first one, he pressed his lips against yours in a heated, fervor passion. An action that spoke of desperation between two lovers who longed to see the next day, and you heard it loud and clear.
Survive.
It was an order, it was a promise.
He left before you, and you soon followed after. The weight of the future falling heavily on your shoulders, but a personal fury to survive pushing you through.
It was a long and a hard battle.
The taoreta had blade wings and mowed down everything in its path. Bodies littered the floor around you, your body in pain and sore while the taoreta lay twitching on the roof of one of the pillars of the campus building. In what was considered to be a lucky shot, you had managed to pierce a major artery of the taoreta with a gun you had taken from a fallen member and he was now bleeding out.
There were multiple cuts all over your body, the slices from the knives doing nothing but harm to your body while you collapsed on the roof, your breathing heavy and your body exhausted underneath the pittering rain. You overlooked the tower, down at the people below and gave a thumbs up, signaling he was dead.
A silent scream of victory came from the surviving members of Yuuei, no one able to actual muster a sound of victory because defeat still stung with every bleeding cut on their bodies. But this wasn’t your job anymore, a successive three short rings alerted the medics that it was their turn to work, and you hobbled down from the roof back to your room.
Your hair was plastered to your face, bloodied water dripping after you while you returned to the room, and you stood at the door unable to walk in until you saw Shouto.
It felt like you were standing there forever, your eyes focusing on the stairway in hopes of seeing the red and white haired boy emerge from a lower floor to you. And finally, finally he appeared.
There was a cut on his face, a bandaid on his chest, and you realized that he had been treated before coming up. He stared at you from the distance, both your bodies frozen with adrenaline induced joy.
But it was over just as fast, Shouto ran towards you, and there was nothing for you to do except leap into his arms, and press your lips against his. Shouto’s words of gratitude for seeing you alive were stolen from his tongue for you had reached upward in this desperate, frantic glee and kissed him firmly on the lips. His tongue curled and moved against yours, his hands moving frantically against your back in this desperate, longing kiss that exploded fire onto his cheeks and loins. But unlike the first kiss ever exchanged between the two of you he was able to move. He was able to feel the wet streaks from your cheeks pressed onto his, focusing on the heavy frantic breathing that passed through your nose while he entered the room, the door slamming closed behind him.
His lips are passionate against yours, your jaw drops and your mind spins from the intensity he was returning into the kiss. Your gasping moans stir him on as his hands grasp your ass without fear, your body melting into his grasp while he continues to strive ahead, and your hips in their glee of both being alive and knowing what is happening ground against his crotch. Your breathing is uneven, your feelings and nerves overload as you put in the same amount of intensive passion into the kiss.
“Fuck,” he groans into your mouth, allowing for your tongue to invade into his mouth while your hands manage to pull his shirt from his body, throwing it who knows where.
A low mewl escapes your mouth when your fingers trail down his rippling muscles, the curves of his muscles and the scars on his body making you shake with anticipation. While you busied yourself with memorizing his body with your hands, his hands trail down your legs, softly trailing the underside of your thighs. The sensation of his hot fingers against the wet jeans sent shivers down your spine as your hips swivel against his, a desperate attempt to feel more from him. You hummed in increasing excitement when he cursed your name, the growing bulge in his pants making you sing to the heavens.
Tongues once more crash in the middle, neither one of you entirely dominating the other in this passionate affair. Moans escape your mouth as he lowers to the ground, pressing your back against the tatami. Your fingers fisted into his hair, his hips grinding down into your heated, desperate core. Synchronized groans are exchanged in this slowly maddening exchange, his body very receptive to the hair-pulling.
His hands trailed down onto the swell of your breasts, squeezing firmly around your soft and tender flesh, and you arch into his hands. His tongue furthers into your mouth in your brief distraction, and he trails his tongue everywhere in your mouth, letting nothing go untouched until you were unable to do anything but expel hot, passionate breaths with just the slightest bit of a whine. Your increasingly satisfied moans make him chuckle. You watch with heavy lids as he pulls away, his face deliriously close to your own as you pant.
From this distance, you can see the fire burning in his eyes. A sight that makes you shiver with growing need, but the thought disappears when his mouth attaches onto your neck. His canines sink deeply into your skin catching you entirely off guard in this desperate claim, but you rewarded his actions by screaming his name, the feeling of his hot tongue soothing the burning flesh too sweet and wanton. It’s a new sensation and one that you rather liked seeing that your hips buck up against his; your body craving more friction.
His canines continue tracing against your skin, biting and marking you more and more with the increased vocal praises pouring from your lips. You wanted more, you needed more.
“Oh fuck!” you gasp while Shouto hastily removes your wet clothes from your overheating body, the cold air hitting you, but goes ignored because he presses back down against you, his mouth recapturing yours, and your nipples pebbling with his chest against yours.
The two of you are lost in the kiss, your lips pressing and pulling against the other in a desperate act, your fingers burying crescents into his skin all while your clothes still continue to be stripped from both of your bodies until theres nothing between you but a flimsy set of underwear.
Your nostrils flare as you pull away, a need for air too much for you to continue your kissing endeavors, but as he now remains in just his boxers, your breathing nearly stops while you take in his form to the maximum.
You really were fucking lucky…
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he teases you, and he captures your lips with his own again.
You gasp sharply at the feeling of his heated toned body pressing against your cold yet flushed skin. Your hands sliding down his muscular back were intoxicated with the way his body felt, an overwhelming need to get more from him was undeniable.
“I don’t need a picture of something that I can have every day,” you shudder as his fingers graze the pool of heat in your panties.
“Oh really? Everyday?”
“You think I — oh shit — you think I can’t?!”
You watch as he chuckles against your skin, his fingers trailing over the curves of your breast and into the valley between them before rutting his cock against the place you needed him most right now. “So you just want me for my dick? Nothing else?” he asks you, his cock rubbing against your panties applying a dizzying pressure against your pooling heat.
“I want you, all of you,” you confess, unable to even kid around with the need between your legs being as strong as it was while your hips pathetically grind into his fingers. He chuckles as he pushes your thighs up, and pulls the fabric of your panties to the side, his finger teasing your building heat.
“Such decisive words from a girl who just wanted to kiss me with no relationship in mind,” he mutters sinking two fingers into your unsuspecting heat.
The helpless and needy scream that pours from your mouth interrupts your denial makes him laugh.
“Tell me, y/n,” he says as his fingers slowly pump within you.
Slowly.
Teasingly.
“Do you want my dick in you?”
Your harsh pants keep you from speaking as Shouto increases his speed. His fingers curling within your walls stretching you out in a thigh shaking way. He doesn’t seem to care that you’re vastly affected by his intruding fingers, your body violently trembling with his curled appendages, your mind unable to form sentences because god how was he doing that with his fingers?!
“Yes, fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, oh my god Shouto!” you shriek as your hips slam against his fingers with every crashing movement.
“How about dating me? You think you’ll finally let me be your boyfriend?” he muses as his teeth come to bite against your exposed nipples, relishing in the way your head nods pathetically, so desperate for him to do moore. The neverending noises of approval expelling from your mouth only grow when his tongue flicks your nipple. Your fingers digging into his shoulders in wild approval. “Are you going to try and find someone else?”
“No! I just want you, Shouto! P-Please fuck me!” you beg as you try squirming away from his fingers. Your fingers scratching their way down his back, leaving bleeding marks on him in attempt to get him to do more to you. You watch in growing glee and excitement as he slips off your underwear, and his cock spreads completely against your dripping cunt.
A satisfied and slightly horrified moan escapes your mouth at the sight of him carding his cock between your folds. His fingers remove from your sopping wet cunt as he licks you clean from his fingers. “Maybe I’ll have some dessert later,” he wickedly grins as he slowly fists himself. “Now lay back and legs out.”
He accentuates every word, and you feel yourself heeding his command. Your hands quickly gather your thighs in your hand, and you stretch backward as you watch him draw near your spread legs. The tip of his hard cock teasing your entrance.
“Fuck me already!” you whine as he continues to only coat his cock with your juices, uncaring of both of your throbbing sexes.
He looks up at you, a smirk on his face as he shrugs.
“Sure.”
A shriek crashes through your mouth as he pushes his cock completely into your awaiting cunt without mercy. His girth stretching you out in an unimaginable way. Stretching you out in ways you were not prepared for, your back arching off the mat in your silent scream. Your walls rippled as they attempted to relax and grow used to his size. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cry, absurdly unprepared for his cock in you as your body trembles as Shouto leans forward.
His own head is buried within your neck, his breathing trying to reign back in.
“Shit, princess,” Shouto cockily rasps, but his words feel powerless as he is obviously affected by the tightness of you around him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”
You mewl as the painful throb in your pussy lulls and you writhe your hips against him, “Please do something, fuck me right. Please fuck me.”
Shouto smirks, small and knowing, and rightfully so as he adheres to your demand. His hips position to a better angle, his hand pressing against your thighs and you can only watch with your face buried into his neck he begins slamming into you. Your hips move in time with his.
Both of you desperate under your nearing orgasms and this heightened state of pleasure brought by the desperation of this fuck. You had both survived the attack, something that the both of you had been so scared of eventually happening given your records, but you had lived. You had lived and became insanely horny at the first sight of Shouto.
His hands gripped your hands while he pounded into you. His grip nearly cracks your hands as he slams his body faster against yours, stretching you out with every move, and by god does he know how to use his cock that dragged against your spongey puffy walls. His hands shift as they drag out under your ass, clenching your supple flesh as this difference stretches you out in unimaginable ways.
His hips crashing into yours is mind jolting, and your cries only fuel him on.
Your body feels as if it is turning into jelly as he shifts your two legs over his shoulders. His cock bottoming out into you making your back arch off the mattress as you wail out his name. Shouto’s heated fingers press against your throbbing clit. You suppress a wail as he rubs harsh and delicate figure-eights onto your puffy nerve. Your pussy is clamping down on his hammering cock, not at all slowing him down, and yet he still grunts and increases his speed and strength.
Your noises of pleasure silences as his cock hits the back of your walls, your legs thrashing around as he drilled into you the same way.
Over and over.
Again and again.
Harder and harder.
His cock smashing against your walls until he tilts his angle and crashes down hard against your g-spot.
“Shouto!!!” you scream as he continues pounding into your g-spot. His alias a prayer on your lips as he continues fucking your brains out.
You shoot up off the mattress, your screams muffled through a kiss as you wrap your arms around him. Even though your legs were on his shoulder, you held on. The angle allows Shouto to drive his cock against your g-spot over and over again. Your body bouncing with every single slam. His body is giving you exploding sensations, your tightness making Shouto moan and curse.
“I needa – fuuuuck, baby do that again – I needa come!” you squeak as your body rocks against his own.
“Come for me, princess.” Shouto sighs into your mouth. “Come around my cock.”
The built-up pleasure in your belly is profuse, it’s built up so fast, and your toes curl in electrifying pleasure. You can’t handle it anymore, the pleasure being too much.
Your orgasm slams through you, your vision nearly turning white as your jaw drops as your screams go silent. Shouto’s mouth continues to move against yours, kissing sloppily against your teeth as he chases his own orgasm. His teeth digging into your bottom lip as his jaw slacks.
His hips continue slamming into you. They’re brutal as they slam over and over again. He’s chanting your name as your stimulated cunt continues clenching around his length. His pace is making you grow numb in his arms, although your hips still continue to desperately roll against his. His breathing is heavy and tense. Panting as he struggles to keep himself composed.
“Come inside me…” You whine into his ear, desperate to feel his hot seed within you. “B-Breed me like the bitch I am, sir!” Your cry, wanting nothing more than his cock to bury all nine inches in you.
“Come for me one more time, and I’ll make sure to fill you until you’re dripping with my semen for an entire week,” Shouto promises, and his hips slam within you.
Your knees are buried within the mattress by your head, your feet curling and pressing against each other. Shouto lays on top of you, the penetration deep, and his hands gripping yours. The weight of having him on you is exhilarating, and for the first time this night, his lips press hungrily against yours while deep within you.
His cock slams against the wall of your cervix repetitively while his lips overwhelm you. Each slam into you is massive and powerful. Powerful enough to have you sobbing into his mouth while he kisses you, his hands clutching your smaller ones in his.
Again and again, he slams into you. His thrusts knock the wind out of you until you release his hands and find yourself digging your fingers into his back, crying out his name desperately while his teeth find a home on your neck, sinking into flesh he had long ago broke. The powerful pounding of his cock makes you keen, your hips jerking up to meet his, but you’re useless against his downward thrusts.
“Impregnate me, sir,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, “breed me! Please fill me up!”
“You’ll be full of my fucking kids in no time,” he snaps, his cock throbbing within your pussy, and loud echoing slaps fill the room. Your nails claw into his back, marking him in multiple places with clean four bloody red lines.
You couldn’t take the feeling of how his body moved perfectly within you, the strength and power behind his every move were almost too natural as if this was an everyday thing. You let out noises reasonably similar to a purr, grinding your cunt against his conquesting cock and laughing breathlessly at his low groan.
“You like this, princess?” Shouto nips at your throat, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails digging into his flesh. “You like the way my cock fills your pussy the same way it did that pretty little ass?” You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, your pants tumbling from your mouth. Your sanity was lying on a string, his actions the reasons for your downfall.
His leverage was small, but every thrust seemed to have his cock being pulled out of you nearly completely. Before he drilled back into your pussy. The noises of your connecting wet sex left loud echo with your squelching pussy around his hot throbbing cock. The muscles on his back seemed to flare dramatically under your fingernails, your screams turning silent due to your approval of this.
“You like the way I fuck your pussy? The way that Imma fill you with my seed for days to come?” he growls into your ear, his hips slamming inhumanly faster into you.
“I need you to breed me,” you sob, the fire in your face as bright and hot as the one between your legs. His sweaty forehead pressed against yours, and his lips recapture yours.
Your mind goes blank when a mighty crash goes through you. But Shouto must not have noticed the clamping of your inner walls as he continues drilling his hips into you, hitting your cervix, and pushing it further up with every slam. You sob against his mouth, your nails tearing into his shoulders as the feeling of your orgasm was too strong to deny, and he only continues to fuck you.
Your scream is silent, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your fingers digging into his neck, and your toes curl. His hips are driving, persistent, and have a goal in mind. You can barely keep up with him, your long overstimulated body wanting to collapse at the seams, but he doesn’t stop.
“Cum, sir,” you beg, your hips wildly thrashing against his. “Please, fill me with your seed!”
His cock stretches you out in a new way as he presses your back onto the mattress again. The protruding veins on his cock creating insane friction against your walls. Shouto fucks you mercilessly, his fingers clenching your ass as you come apart for him. Shouto curses loudly as he finally loses himself within you. His hips drilling forward one last time as a heavy load shoots into your throbbing cunt.
Shaky breathing fills the air as he pulls out of you.
You whine at the lack of him within you, and your body relaxes as he falls beside you. You whimper as you feel your combine cum seeping from your clenching pussy.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, his hand moving to find yours again, and you can’t say anything but nod in agreement.
“Holy shit is right,” you chuckle and his snort makes you warm inside.
“So… we’re dating now, right?” you ask softly, moving to look at Shouto’s closed eyes.
“We’re about five months late on that, but yes, yes we are.”
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I agree with your thread on how burda fans interact with pathologic as a complex narrative about indigenous people and the town as a whole but I feel like it's just as superficial to say that people have to ignore "textual evidence" to ship artemy and daniil (especially in pathologic classic hd). I mean I guess they would if they wanted them to be a cute and sweet marvel-like ship but otherwise...
let me just preface this by saying this is the only ask that ive recieved im likely to answer on this subject bc its neither trying to antagonise me for things i didnt actually say OR trying to blindly praise me, and it reads much more like someone trying to actually have discussion rather than. idk. cause drama. so ty for that. my answers a bit long so ive put it under the cut :)
i agree that to some extent its more plausible and marginally less “problematic” in patho1, but only just. i wasnt fully explaining my pov in that particular thread bc it was part of a larger rant that i didnt expect to blow up, and also like. its twitter. its hard to be eloquent and precise there. but my feelings are ppl who ship those characters pretty much never ever actually want to examine the fact that dankovsky is intolerant, and his role as a character in both games, but especially patho2, is to be the outsider academic who believes that because of his education adn intellect he knows more than the locals, even though thats explicitly not true and in his route he learns the least about the town and therefore though he comes to his own conclusions that make a certain amount of sense within the frame of what he learns, we as the players know that hes only understood a fraction of the truth, and therefore his choice is at least questionable if not outright wrong. people dont want to to look at that.
from what ive seen, people dont want to discuss the complexities of what it would mean for someone like that to enter a relationship with a member of the kin. they dont want to talk about dankovskys racism (because thats what it is, he frequently microaggressions artemy in both games, but as you say, especially in patho2). they get flattened down into the typical “antagonistic ship” where its just two men who argue and kiss and argue and kiss forever. THATS what i find frustrating. i wont lie, id still find the ship deeply distasteful even if that WAS acknowledged, but that would be my own personal taste and not whats happening now which imo, is ignoring huge parts of the message of the game, which are to do with the complexities of how indigenous people become assimilated into a culture and used and chewed up. thats imo what the vlads storyline is representing; just because one is explicitly racist and the other is passively racist, that doesnt mean one of them is right. in the same way, just because dankovsky is a doctor whos trying to heal people, that doesnt mean he doesnt have his own prejudices.
anyway. jsut wnat to finish by saying idc about shipping in general in pathologic. i dont “get” it by any means, its admittedly kind weird to me to focus on that when theres so much other stuff going on, but its ultimately pretty harmless and i wouldnt rag on anyone for indulging. its just this ship that really aggravates me because its so harmful, ESPECIALLY bc its what people who know nothing abt patho primarily see. a huge number of my friends who had NO IDEA that colonialism and the kin are one of the core themes of pathologic 2, because all they see is ship art of dankovsky adn artemy kissing in fields or whatever.
#a lot of my frustrations also come from ppl shoving clara to the side to justify their ship#the only stuff bordering actual analysis i see wrt to these two is 'two sides of the same coin'#'sun and moon'#and other things like that which are. frankly. ship tropes. it completely ignores that its NOT whats happening in patho#theres a reason theres 3 healers. they ahve different idealogies. sometimes they agree but mostly they dont#that doesnt make them narrative foils. just characters in conflict
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I’m not saying you should focus more on racism, I’m just saying that that’s something that the community as a whole needs to focus on and try to repair, I’m sure they all already know that people don’t like their ships. If that’s an issue, then groups can have a strict age limit. Easy solve. The other things are things that can be taught and learned but with hostility all that’s going to happen is a deeper divide. You said you wanted to argue with people about the things you don’t like that they do in this community. I’m paraphrasing, but why not instead want to educate them. No one will ever react well to feeling like they’re being ridiculed or patronized. People worth spending your time on are the ones you can talk to without it being a shitshow. We’re having a dialogue. I’ve felt this entire time like everything I say, someone is going to search for one thing to deliberately misinterpret or magnify unnecessarily when, if there’s something that they have an issue with, it could be a perfect opportunity to educate me instead of people being hostile. I’m college educated and can think critically, I’m moderately well spoken, I’m open to instructive criticisms and discussing things that aren’t agreed upon so I’m just sort of confused by the fact that what I’m saying is being picked apart by other anons and to a degree, you. You all want to change my mind about age gaps, despite me being with someone older irl and feeling safe and genuinely valued for the first time in a relationship in my life so why do you think that calling my dead grandpa names, redirecting the conversation and then kinda mocking me when I attempt to understand wholly and agree with some of the things you’re saying? That’s not going to convince me or anyone else. It just makes people feel defensive. Reiterating here that I’m not saying YOU specifically need to talk about racism more, and I’m not trying to diminish your experience or anything like that In just saying that those topics (discrimination of any kind, abuse of any kind) in the community are things we should be discussing instead of ships we think aren’t comfortable. I feel uncomfortable with relationships in real life and in rp all the time but that isn’t up to me to say it’s wrong or bad. It’s no ones right to tell any two consenting adults that what they’re doing is wrong. But it is a human right to tell someone when they’re being insensitive, and that’s a flaw in the community that people can be educated on and learn to handle with more sensitivity and knowledge but we’re never going to reach that point if we’re all just hostile and cruel to one another. Also reiterating that I’m not using personal examples to get cred, I just like examples because I think using them shows where I’m coming from so that any person who wants to have a dialogue can have a frame of reference for why my opinions are what they are on any topic. If I’m wrong, or insensitive, or just kinda dumb I want to know that but simply telling me I’m wrong or insensitive or dumb doesn’t teach me how not to me. And this doesn’t just mean me, I mean the whole community. It will never improve if we all just talk about the things we don’t like and give no feasible solutions.
alright i see what you want so let me switch to my white pleaser voice and deliver since you're so keen on being patronizing and in the same breath, acting like me taking what you say "the wrong way" is the problem. in bullet points so next time u come back to keep going at it u can pinpoint exactly what it is i misconstrued because u will do it anyway.
you're asking the community as a whole to care more about racism but you're talking to me who's leading the conversation in the first place. i understand you didn't imply i specifically should care more about it, but you're still using racism to discredit my point of view on age gap relationships being an important topic to discuss as well, and watering it down to just me not liking people's plots when that is not the message.
nobody is telling anyone how to live their lives. im bringing awareness to the fact that this culture is not okay. it's dangerous to our young. it NEEDS to be uncomfortable to you (you, plural) to invite to this so called critical thinking.
im not saying your partner doesn't have a right to be loving or grandpa and grandma had abuse masked as a good relationship. im saying, since it needs to be spelled out with no room for misinterpretation; the culture behind someone 10+ years older finding it completely okay to pursue someone that much younger — especially when we're talking 18 - 30 age range — needs to be looked at more closely. it's not safe in general. do exceptions exist? absolutely, but the whole two consenting adults point is a terrible one to make when at 18, you're considered that when you're still essentially just a child.
a strict age limit, which most groups adopt now, does little to actually prevent age gap relationships within roleplays. moreso, uneven power dynamics within plots being glamorized. my boss is not over 5 years older than me, but he is my boss. kpop boybands don't have age gaps of 10+ years in groups, usually, but there is a leader most times acting like a father figure, not to mention korean culture is heavy on emphasizing age-related hierarchical order, so a literal still wet behind the ears child establishing a romantic connection with someone who is not their equal? dangerous.
now let's halt. i already told you, i don't give a shit about respectability politics. it is not my job to be nice and educate anyone. and i don't mean just on this blog... most of you whites have come to assume and expect, even, that poc will be subservient, docile, and always willing to switch and nicely explain to you why the very core of the way you think about the world because you grew up sheltered w/e is not the whole picture for everyone. the worst part? most of them do. most of them do put their thinking caps on and write these novel worthy, intelligent, respectful, calculated think pieces only for the white in question to turn around and still deem it aggressive, etc. i don't do that. that is labor that most of you do not deserve.
the implication that there are feasible solutions for these problems that don't require for people to literally rework their entire mindset is naive at best. what am i supposed to do? be like nooo don't be racist, racism is bad BECAUSE it hurts people. i think all of you are old enough to know that by now. you definitely have enough internet exposure to know that, even if you grew up in all white sundown town america.
i explain my points. i actually explain my points more than the average person, yet here we are still saying im not doing enough to educate those around me as if it was my responsibility to change the way people think with sugar spice and everything nice so they feel their hand is held and it's safe to make a mistake that will consequently hurt other people as many times as they need to make it to finally grasp the reality of it and be able to just... not do that in the future. when no. no. when you hurt me, im allowed to react emotionally, not intellectually. when im angry and upset and still explaining why, its YOUR job to swallow it down and listen to what im saying, because YOU hurt me. i don't owe you civility (again; you, plural). i especially don't owe you civility when ive given you nothing but in the past and the end result is still me being an aggro freak who doesn't care for your precious feelings.
you're also assuming things. for example, assuming that im mocking you specifically when i really have not done that. if im going to mock you, im going to reply to your anon and say "okay stupid", then yeah, im mocking you. otherwise? don't assume im directing anything at you.
we're having a dialogue and this whole time all you've done is tell me to stop talking. your messages have all, in essence, said, if people want to date other people who have a shitton of years on them, that is not a problem and you look prettier talking about something else. yes, that's also paraphrased. you didn't say that, of course, but why are we still here if not because you feel personally scrutinized over the reaction to the life examples that you willingly provided?
nobody is trying to change YOUR mind, you're just not willing to consider that your age gap relationships that have been beautiful and loving and safe coexist within a culture that is wicked. a person who's 10+ older than me, 24, has no business seeing me as a potential partner. it's not appropriate. yet if they do, and i also see them as a potential partner, there's nothing inherently evil about that specific instance. it is the circumstances (past), that lead to this kind of thinking in the first place what im asking everyone to analize and understand. and it does matter. it matters as much as racism, abuse, ooc mistreatment of rp partners. again, issues do not queue and wait for something to end so they can begin anew. every conversation i choose to have i consider worth having. you're free to stay out if you don't deem it important.
you're exhausting me thinking by turning my inbox into ap debate we're achieving grand things sooo hope this helps 🖤
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so now that its been over a year since ive graduated high school id like to tell you all a story that ive been thinking about a lot recently. its a bit long, but i promise its worth it.
this post gets political, fair warning
for context: i went to high school in a very upper middle class, very white town. everyone i talk about in this story is white.
trigger warning: mentions of the german political administration during ww2, their tactics, and extreme right politics
junior year i took ap us history. the class itself was absolutely fantastic, definitely one of the best i took in high school. but we had Quite the assortment of kids...
my high school had this dumb thing called the university program. essentially you applied in 8th grade and it was advertised as this Special Accelerated Learning Program. spoiler alert: it was pretty stupid, all we did was take a certain number of ap classes per year and do x amount of community service. everyone hated it but we all stuck it out cause you got a chord at graduation. so if you were in the university program, you started only being in class with like a variation of the same 75 people. ap us history was one of those classes.
in our class we had quite the mix: 98% of us were members of national honor society but in addition we had the girl who would go on to be the salutatorian, this one guy who knew more about bitcoin than anyone should, two football players who were actually not assholes, and this really passionately german kid.
now this german kid, were going to call him s. he was...interesting. he was very very smart (everyone thought he was going to be valedictorian but he wasn't) but he took his ethnicity very seriously. and when i say ethnicity im referring to that period of german history from 1939-1945. s knew far too much about german politics, esp ww2 german politics (if youre picking up what im putting down there) and he often went as far as to “correct” our various teachers whenever germany came up and talk about very radical right ideas. but our apush teacher was a no-nonsense kinda lady and had no problem telling him “s youre wrong” which all of us absolutely Loved.
the other person in our story is one of the not asshole football players. we’ll call him d. he was what you Wished football players were like, nice, funny, almost like a class clown, would no doubt stand up for anyone getting shit talked, talked to everyone in class no matter what their “group” was and he was really smart, but not in an in your face kinda way like s was.
so anyway. in apush we would periodically have these Round Table Debates, where there were 4 groups: 1 group of jurors who would ask questions and then three teams that were defending their own stance on whatever historical argument we were having. our teacher would sit in the back corner and take shorthand notes on what we were saying, essentially leaving the entire discussion up to us except to tell us when it was time to move on to the next group. we all Loved round table debates because we were all an intelligent group and ended up having really deep and insightful debates and also whichever team won got 5 points of extra credit as did the juror who asked the best questions. about halfway through the year, we had a debate on what to do with the philippines after world war 2 (because they were technically a us colony at that time)
i dont remember what the three different stances were that we were arguing, but i do remember that d was one of the jurors and had asked one of the teams a question. s happened to be on this team and he answered the question. they went back and forth for awhile and things started to get Pretty Heated. we were all watching them intently, not really understanding a good half of what was being said because s had a way of talking in complicated circles that took at least 5 braincells minimum to understand, and all of us being crazy ap students, only had about 2 brain cells each.
but then, s said something in his usual backwards fashion, and d paused dramatically, staring at s intently and all of us were collectively like o shit. i have never heard a classroom that quiet, you could hear a literal pin drop. we were all waiting for 1. d to decipher what s had just said and 2. see what he was going to say in return.
several long moments passed. d leaned forwards in his seat, so far that it looked like he was going to tip the desk over, and, looking completely and utterly baffled, opened his mouth and said:
“are you defending e t h n i c c l e a n s i n g?”
the entire classroom e r u p t e d. cause holy shit, we all knew that s had some, to put it very simply, problematic conservative viewpoints that linked back to ww2 administration germany, but no one had ever called him out on it before (aside from our teacher telling him to be quiet during her lectures). and also this was supposed to be a history role play debate of sorts, the whole point of it was to take on a viewpoint that might not be your own and argue it to the best of your ability. but d knew and everyone else in the class knew that ethnic cleansing was not something that s was pretending to defend for the sake of the debate (public school might be wild but we never touched that topic in a debate setting because our teacher knew that it would make people uncomfortable to argue in favor of), it wasn't even in the prompt sheet, it was something that he had come up with entirely on his own.
so when s started spewing random nonsense as an attempt to backtrack and take back what he had just said, d started shouting back at him about how it was wrong and was halfway out of his seat, fists clenched, ready to literally fight s (if you recall, d was a football/baseball/wrestling guy, at least 6 feet tall, and as far as high school guys go, pretty jacked. he was Scary when he was mad)
it was at this exact moment that our teacher spoke up (which she n e v e r did during debates). she looked pretty shocked at the whole turn of events (as in, s defending ethnic cleansing, not d almost decking him) (and nothing ever phased her) and said, as calmly as she could muster, “alright. lets move on to the next question.”
we were all 16/17 year olds. we couldn't vote yet, but we still had very strong opinions. and d knew the implications of s’s opinions, knew that they were hurtful to other people, promoted the hurting of other people, and called him out on it. publicly. in front of our history class, filled with his friends and peers, our teacher, and some of the smartest kids in our grade.
after that day, s never suggested radical right ideas in class again, and if anyone else had similar ideas, they kept them to themselves. and from that point on d had my complete and utter respect.
now, im not telling you to almost beat up your classmate in class in front of your teacher and risk suspension, but if someone you know has a viewpoint (especially a young person) that is hurtful or promotes hate/harm to a group of people, dont be afraid to try and educate them. we might be young and the older generations might brush us off, but in a few years its going to be this generation pulling most of the weight in polls. educate your ignorant friends, family members, classmates etc. every little bit helps. and education is the only way that we will be able to promote change. this is not a battle that we are going to win overnight, but that doesnt mean we should ignore it if it doesnt affect us.
(oh and yes, d totally got 5 extra credit points from that debate)
((if this post offends anyone or is wrong in any way let me know and ill take it down or edit it))
#black lives matter#dont you even think about stopping the fight#blm#tw nazis#tw ethnic cleansing#educate people!!
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ive seen alot of discourse around jacks character and i wanted to share my thoughts. this is just my pov and of course everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and if you have something to add to this or want to have a conversation im totally open to it! and i want to preface this by saying I dont hate jack, i just don't like him. I think he was a good person in alot of ways but there's alot of things that make me not like him that I want to explain. This is going to be a long post, sorry.
so one thing ive heard is things like "you cant like Hannibal and then not like Jack because you think he's bad, Hannibal is way worse." and i completely see where this thought process is coming from, and yes hannibal was a way worse person then jack, so im not disagreeing with that at all.
We know from the start of the show that Hannibal is bad, hes a serial killer, cannibal, he manipulates and hurts everyone around him, the show doesnt hide this. we go into watching it knowing who hannibal is and knowing hes bad. So when he does something bad, (most of the time) its not shocking in the sense that we expect it from him because its who he is and his characters role in the show.
Jack however, is supposed to be a upstanding person, hes wills boss and is in charge of "taking care of him" so to speak while hes working. Jack is never presented straightforwardly as a inherently bad person, so when he does bad things, its more shocking and hurtful in my opinion, because its not expected of him. He admits that he knows will is unstable, but it doesnt really matter to him as long as will is saving lives. Yes, Hannibal did write off will as good to be in the field, but it was very clear will was unstable, and Jack admits to knowing that. I dont remember what episode it was, but in one conversation with Hannibal he talks about how hes willing to let will go mad as long as he can help solve crimes. Jack is in a position of authority, and when it comes to doing field work for the fbi, willingly having someone obviously mentally unstable is extremely reckless, neglectful, and dangerous. When Will gets out of the hospital for the criminally insane, Jack takes him straight to a crime scene. And all throughout the show Jack shows time and time again that he is reckless and disregardes rules and safety precautions if he thinks it'll get him what he wants. This arguably leads to mariam lass being kidnapped and held hostage, the 2x13, and Hannibal escaping with Will. hes also very manipulative when it comes to will. Yes, Will is a grown man capable of making his own decisions, but Jack also knows how much will wanted to help, and exploited that through guilt tripping and manipulation, like in s3 when he goes behind will to get Molly to help guilt trip and convince will to help and talk to Hannibal again. Jack is in a position of power and authority, and he (imo) doesn't do well with it, again, disregarding rules and safety precautions, ignoring incredibly dangerous situations, etc.
When Hannibal, who is a serial killer, kills somebody, its not much of a shock. When he manipulates somebody, its not much of a shock because that is what is expected of him, we know his morals are completely different then everyone else's because thats who he's supposed to be. If he didn't do those things, there wouldn't be a show. We know he's bad, so when he does bad things, it doesn't change our (my) view of him much, because I expect it from him.
Whereas with jack, there is alot more expected of him, because he is not a cannibalistic serial killer, so when he manipulates and hurts people, its more hurtful because its not expected. Jack has good intentions, he wants to save lives, and he's obviously going through alot like with Bella, but the way he goes about it is so harmful and causes so many issues that it can make him seem very unlikable.
hannibal doesnt care about hurting people (mostly), i would venture to say he's not capable of caring about (most) people (not to say he doesn't know right from wrong, just that hes not capable of having adequate empathy), whereas jack is completely capable of empathy, and he does care about people hurting, but he chooses to continously hurt people anyway and cause problems anyway with the excuse "its to save lives". he puts up this idea that will is only worth who he can save, ergo, his life is not as important as others.
Arguably almost all the characters on hannibal are "grey" characters, not completely good or bad. But long story short, when a serial killer kills, its expected and acceptable in the sense that thats what their character was made to do and has to do for the storyline to further. But when a fbi agent, whos supposed to be helping and a good person, does bad things, its much more upsetting.
Something can be said about racism in the writing, and within the fandom, because I have definitly seen people who dislike Jack for obviously racist reasons. And that's definitely not okay, and it needs to be called out and not happening, and we as a fan base need to acknowledge the racism in the writing of the show (like killing off almost all of the few poc the show had to begin with). I would like to say in regards to this, that I am white, and I'm also still learning alot and still working on identifying racism in spaces that I didn't recognize before (due to being uneducated), so I don't think I'm the right person to be having a full discussion with about race in reference to the show, because I dont want to speak over poc voices and misinform anyone. But I will call out racism where I see it and continue to educate myself about it. Thats just to say that i can give the input I have on this, but I would recommend talking to a person of colour if youre looking to learn more about this.
Anyways thats just my take, sorry for the long post. This isnt meant to be controversial, but I see how it could be. Again, if anyone would like to discuss this im completely open to discourse and new ideas ❤
#hannibal#hannibal lecter#hannigram#nbc hannibal#will graham#jack crawford#fbi#discource#hannibal fandom#fannibals#fannibal family
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im honestly sorry if you feel triggered by this, but how do you feel about mgg fans diagnosing him adhd to excuse him saying the r word? isnt that invalidating towards neurodivergent people because hes not actually diagnosed with it? for some reason that just really bothers me (i have horrible adhd that i actually take medication for and it's awful so it annoys me when ppl ask diagnose with it)
So, I don’t have ADHD - I’m neurodivergent because I am autistic - just want to put that out there before I move on.
From my understanding, people mistakenly think that he is actually diagnosed. I’ve seen a few people swear they’ve heard him say it. I’ve searched for awhile, but never been able to find any sign of Matthew explicitly calling himself ND in any manner. Since I think a lot of it comes from a genuine misunderstanding, it doesn’t bother me at all. (*If someone has proof he’s identified that way, please let me know and show me the link!).
As for people who are actually openly and admittedly armchair diagnosing, I take issue with that. I’m a firm believer in self-diagnosis, particularly in America and for adults over the age of 20 with NDs, specifically. It is way harder than a lot of people understand to get a proper autism dx in America if you’re an adult. If my parents weren’t willing/able to testify to my childhood, no psychiatrist would believe me. I think a lot of younger folks don’t realize how much our understanding of neurodiversity has changed in the last three years, nonetheless the last thirteen.
HOWEVER, armchair diagnosis is awful in my eyes. I am not a fan for a number of reasons, part of which being that there is often a bias by the person doing it. A lot of ND symptoms overlap between all of the different “qualifying disorders,” and I constantly see people say X is evidence of Y, when the correct statement is X can be evidence of ABCDEFGHIJKLM- (You get the point).
When it’s done by a NT or able bodied person, I get even more upset. They have no business guessing what it’s like to be us or talk about how they perceive us. It’s not their business. They need to keep their (usually ableist) opinions to themselves, period. I don’t want to hear about whether or not they think there is something “wrong” with literally anyone, ever (that includes Cheeto Man, who people seem real comfortable throwing “bad” mental illness labels on).
Lastly, my biggest problem with armchair diagnosis or outing someone’s disability they don’t outwardly express is that it takes the autonomy away from the person that matters. I personally don’t think it’s right to reclaim a slur if you don’t identify yourself as a member of that demographic, since you are benefiting from the pain without any of the work/danger. That being said, some people’s opinions differ. Our histories with our own disabilities and how the world reacts to them are all very different.
Do I think Matthew is ND? Possibly, but it’s not my place to say that for him. If he doesn’t say he is, then I’ll assume that he is not, because that’s probably what he wants. Until he says otherwise, I will assume that he does not want to be identified as ND, and in my opinion, he shouldn’t say the R slur (which, he hasn’t said in almost 5 years now, has removed from his very first directed works and website, is part of a campaign to replace the word, and he has started heavily advocating for adults with intellectual & developmental disabilities - one of THE most neglected demographics).
Finally, I actually have some semi-controversial feelings about the R-slur itself and who should feel comfortable reclaiming it. The ND umbrella is extremely massive, and includes wildly different experiences. When specifically referencing the R-slur, the people whose opinions should be amplified the most, to me, are the people with intellectual and developmental disabilities that also suffered at the hands of the educational system.
As someone who was in school in the nineties, I went from being officially marked the R-slur on my educational record & being told I’d never be able to hold a job or be a functioning member of society... to being told I needed to skip 3 grades & that I was a genius... Those two experiences are so, so, so, so, SO painfully different. Sure, I still got called the R-slur for my other behaviors outside of the educational context, but we can’t erase the VERY different experiences in SpEd and TAG programs. I just want people to think about that, too. I personally get kind of uncomfortable when people who’ve never struggled with learning or intelligence tests tell me they get to use the word. I don’t feel comfortable using the word, but I also grew up in a very different time. I’m glad that people feel more comfortable with reclaiming the word now, though, because it means we’ve made progress and they feel safer with it! There’s a lot to it, and it’s an intracommunity discussion, anyway.
That’s a brief summary on my feelings. Mainly I want people to be patient with people who say he has ADHD just because I think a lot of people genuinely (albeit mistakenly) believe he’s identified that way. A lot of ND people cling to any representation we can find because it is so rare to find. I try to be more understanding with the topic for that reason.
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3. I know i have to 'get out there' but it's hard when you've felt your whole life that nobody likes you. i literally only have one friend. i just feel really hopeless... i feel like im not meant for this kind of life, everything feels wrong and like im waiting for something's never gonna come, some kinda magic. i want of life of adventure and paint and write but instead i have to study because i'd feel like a loser w/o an education. i dont mind working i just dont want to study.
hey love, i'm really sorry to hear that. i think it's totally normal to be disappointed and even more so to be unsure about your future - it's not an indicator of failure, it's a natural part of growing up and finding your place in the world. i'm probably ignorant and don't know what it's like to actually be in your shoes, so i apologize if i come across as frustrating at some points. this is just my perspective. but i'm wondering if maybe taking more time away is an option for you? maybe working somewhere, focusing on your mental health for a while.... because the thing is your level of education has nothing to do with your worth as a person, and even more than that, there's no set time scale for this sort of thing. you could go back to college at 35, and it wouldn't matter. your life doesn't have to follow that stereotypical linear trajectory we're all forced to chase, in order for you to find happiness and success. and you don't have to justify your own personal choices to anyone, least of all to yourself. i just think it's important to try to focus on the factors of living that are in your control, that will bring you a sense of stability and peace. i know it's hard to let go of the internalised capitalistic idea of having to prove yourself through academia and getting a 'good job', but it's always useful to remind yourself of just how exploitative and made up that entire construct is. you're here and you're experiencing the world and with that you are fulfilling your point, you are doing enough. you are enough. everything else is background noise, that we're forced to muddle through, but background noise nonetheless. you don't need anyone's permission to prioritize your own needs and wants.
however, if you're dead set on studying this topic you don't like (which, i totally understand why you'd make that choice bc i know it's not that simple), then i reckon it's alright to just let yourself feel shitty for a while. any sadness, anger, disappointment, pain you feel about it is to be expected - and even though it fuckin sucks to have to carry it, its intensity definitely won't last. one way or another, you will adapt and so will your ability to cope. just don't use those emotions as an excuse to engage in self destructive behaviour, cause that'll only perpetuate the cycle and keep you in a dark place. having to force ourselves to do shit we hate is always going to feel like an everlasting burden we're never going to escape from, even if that's not the case in reality. and i had a lot of experience with that in school too - the main tactic i can remember making a difference, was like you said, finding little things to make the weight of it more bearable. i think that often starts first and foremost with our own mental health before anything else, because it controls the filter through which we see the world. if you don't like it in yourself you won't like it anywhere. when it comes to your social anxiety, are you receiving any support/would you be open to that? i think consistently seeing someone while you're in school - whether that's a counselor, a therapist, attending a support group or even just calling a hotline to begin with - could really help you manage the stress you're so afraid is waiting for you. having someone to talk to and learning why you are the way you are, and what tools could help you specifically in terms of coping mechanisms and finding a support network can honestly do wonders for your self esteem and the way you approach others. and of course it takes time, maybe that brand of self care is a lifelong process, but it's still important to engage with it. so balancing school with prioritizing your own wellbeing might be something that lightens the weight of the experience. anxiety tends to have us anticipating worst case scenarios and drawing on old insecurities to convince us we'll be alone and in pain forever, but what you've been through is truly not a mirror image of where you're going. making friends especially as an adult is fuckin hard, and struggling with it doesn't mean there's something irreparably wrong with you. just means it's hard to get to know ppl, but that's not a personal failing on your part. it's just a fact. most of them are too worried about their own 'flaws' to take note of yours. but that doesn't mean there aren't ppl out there you haven't met yet who will love you, even if that's hard to believe rn. also a side note, it could be a good idea to build up a routine where you're engaging in something that actively makes you happy at least a few times a week. can literally just be watching netflix, or taking up a hobby, meditating, going for a walk - i know college is v busy and it may not always be possible, but having small pockets of deliberate down time to look forward to is crucial. im not saying it'll cure everything or anything, just that it might make it all feel less overwhelming. but lastly, i want to say that it's ok if you give it a go and then decide you can't do it. that's an option, too. it doesn't have to be black and white. don't fault yourself for not wanting to spend 3 years doing something you hate, but also know that it's possible to get through it if it's a means to an end for you, especially if you seek the help you need. and whichever choice you go with, neither of them are 'wrong.' it's just your path.
anyway, i'm sorry this got super long. i think discussing it with someone you trust might be a good move, just to know that they have your back whether you work through uni or not. you're honestly doing so much better than you realize and i'm proud of you for continuing to try and strive despite how painful it all is. but i really hope that you can catch yourself when your brain is being unnecessarily unkind to you, and that you can then make the conscious choice to change the narrative and approach it from a place of patience and self appreciation. i think your life is still worth living even if it doesn't match up to where you think you should be, which is something i've been trying to accept lately too. that so much is beyond our control and we can literally only focus on the silver linings of the factors that are in our hands. that we can still be okay, living like that. and none of this is permanent, not the way it often seems like it is, but especially not the confusion. it just takes time to live the answers to all the existential questions you have. take it a day at a time. ANYWAY im rooting for you with all my heart and if you want to talk about this properly feel free to message me!! my overarching point is that you're not as alone as you feel. and you won't be in college, and you won't be if you look for work instead. so many of us understand where you're coming from. much love to you, take care 💗💗
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Ok that anon did express some not-good views, but you didn't remain very calm in any of your responses to them? And it wasnt the best wording but we get nothing from, idk, attacking people who are misguided but still want to learn. Im not saying what they said was ok but it was still kinda shitty that everyone dogpiled them for something they didnt even know was wrong and actively wanted to learn about?
under a cut because this topic is actively distressing people, myself included. for context, anon has successfully and clearly apologized, but i still need to explain a much broader concept here anyway because this particular approach has some flaws and i do hope that you will consider this response fully.
i can promise you i was a lot calmer than anyone is actually obligated to be when faced with that kind of discussion. it’s not actually anyone’s Job to hold someone’s hand through these things and it can be extremely emotionally taxing to be placed in the situation that i was placed in, and i’m not even someone who suffers directly from transmisogyny. no one owes these kinds of conversations their emotional labor and time in the first place; i’m not actually obligated to be the gentle teacher every single time any random stranger displays ignorance in front of me. the thing is, i usually do assume that role anyway! in this case, i purposefully chose to occupy a middleground (firm, assertive, thorough) because it’s not something that can be sugarcoated. if i was attacking, it’d have been very clear.
i am genuinely glad that they sincerely wanted to learn, now that it’s been made much clearer that that IS the case.
but regardless of that fact, i am not actually a teacher. i’m not a search engine. i’m not the good little minority who has to benevolently educate everyone who crosses my path and asks a question. y’know? it’s none of our jobs to do that. and my response was still me doing it anyway. i am also responding to this message a lot more calmly and politely than anyone needs to; please understand the energy that this takes. a lot of other people would have blown their TOP at getting this message and they wouldn’t be wrong to.
these conversations are going to be uncomfortable for everyone involved because change cannot come without unrest. people with harmful beliefs SHOULD feel uncomfortable being told to change, because it means that they realize what was wrong with what they were doing. it’s incentive to do better. it has to happen no matter what, there’s no way to make this Nice for anyone. if the person doing the explaining doesn’t get to get out of it without feeling like shit, neither does the person who needs the explaining.
really, i’m the first person who will soften myself to a frankly insulting degree to placate bigots who claim they want to learn just so that there’s a better chance that they listen to me, which is just. miserable for anyone to even Have to do in the first place just to get across basic information. tone policing is unnecessary and generally unwelcome, when again, i can promise you that anything short of chipper and hours-of-patience is not automatically an attack. sometimes things have to be said right upfront so they can’t be swerved around, and that’s It.
i understand where you’re coming from; you must want the world to be a kinder, gentler place and you want people to be communicative in a comfortable way. it’s a noble thing to aspire for and i admire your wish for peaceful discussions. what i have to tell you is that this was quite peaceful, all things considered. i’ve had a lot of really hard conversations that went a lot worse than this one, and i promise you, this was the good outcome. this was me being The Good Teacher.
in any case. the situation is resolved and over now, so i’d appreciate if this could all stop now! i responded to this message to get the broader concept of tone policing across, and i hope that you will consider what i said. thank you.
#discourse /#gonna delete this later probs bc i dont like this shit bogging down my fandom blog#anon#asks
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A Different Kind of Education: V Is For Vanilla (Chapter 1)
Pairing: Professor!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader
Summery: After being broken up with for not being kinky enough, Reader seeks out her professor to give her some private tutoring so she can win her boyfriend back.
Warnings: Modern AU, smut (18+), slow burn romance, light dom/sub dynamics, light dom!roger and sub!reader, professor x student sex, protected sex, vaginal fingering, light breast/nipple play, nipple sucking, light biting, i think thats it, honestly this chapter is (as the title says) pretty vanilla. But things will get more intense in later chapters.
Words: 7,128
A/N: ahhhhhh it’s finally here. This professor Rog idea has been kicking around my head for months now and finally I’m actually doing something about it lmao
This series is going to be LONG (like in my plan it’s 15 chapters) because I have So Many kinks I want to squeeze into it. Some were chosen by me and some were chosen by everyone who voted in the poll I put up a few weeks ago and i am seriously so excited about what’s coming.
Smut scenes in this and all future chapters will be marked with stars so that if there is a kink you’d like to avoid you can skip over it and still enjoy the rest of the series.
Also, I know the chapter title doesn’t super make sense since he’s a university bio sciences professor which doesn’t have a lot to do with the alphabet but 🤷♀️ that was the working chapter title and it kind of stuck. Plus, ya’ll know I love chapter titles that have a theme lmao. Anyway, no more stalling. Enjoy the filth and start preparing yourselves for it to get so much filthier.
(the ultimate hot professor rog moment tbh)
@atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini
His office door was open when you got there which didn’t give you much time to hesitate or rethink your decision to ask your Professor for help. He would have seen you approaching or stalling in the doorway and invited you in anyway to query you about your reasons for being there. So, instead, you raised your fist and rapped a pattern on the door frame with your knuckles.
“Professor Taylor? Can I have a word?”
“Miss Y/L/N,” he seemed surprised to see you, his eyes widening behind his spectacles, “come in. What can I help you with?”
You closed the door behind you and took a seat, fidgeting with your fingers as you tried to remember how you’d planned to broach the subject. Professor Taylor – Roger, as you’d been told you could call him – waited patiently.
“It’s tricky, Professor. Umm, see, well um,”
“Is this something to do with the coursework? If you’re worried about the last assignment, you don’t need to be. It was really good, what you handed in.”
“Really?”
“Mmhmm. I was going to give you all feedback next week but if it’ll help put your mind at ease I can show you the comments I have for you early,”
You were half a second away from asking to see them when you remembered that wasn’t what you’d come to ask about, “A-actually that’s okay Professor.”
“Oh? So was it something else you wanted? I know that this Masters course is more work than previous classes you’ve had with me but you seem to be keeping on top of it all. I’m very impressed by what you’ve accomplished so far.”
“Thank you Professor, but, um, that’s not really what I’m here about,”
“No?” He leaned forward resting his chin on his hands, “You know, there’s no need to be nervous about talking to me, I’m not going to fail you,” he chuckled as he sat up straight again, clearly trying to lighten the mood though his expression became more serious as he said, “if you’re having trouble with something, or someone, please tell me and I will do what I can to help, whether it’s pointing you in the direction of someone more able to support you or talking to people on your behalf.”
You nodded, feeling marginally calmer though still nervous, “I was actually hoping for some private tutoring,”
“Oh? Well if you’d like to put your name down as a tutor I have a form here somewhere, if you fill it out I can pass it on and have your name added to the database,” Roger rifled through a stack of papers on his desk, only stopping when you spoke again.
“No, not, uh, not tutoring work. I more meant tutoring from you. In an area that this Uni doesn’t provide classes in,”
“Miss Y/L/N I’m going to have to ask you to explain because I’m not quite sure what you’re after,”
You took a breath and resisted the urge to speak to the floor, “My boyfriend dumped me last week.”
“I’m sorry to hear that but I don’t see how-”
“He dumped me because apparently I’m not kinky enough. I don’t know, he always wanted me to be super obedient in the bedroom but I never really understood it.”
Roger shifted in his seat, “Miss Y/L/N I don’t think this is app-”
“I want someone to explain it all to me, teach me how to be what he wants so I can get him back. If I can show him that I can learn, that I can submit in the way he expects, then we won’t have to break up. I love him and I’d do anything to get him back and I’ve been thinking about it and I think you’re the best person to teach me.”
“I’m not sure I understand why you would come to me with this. I am very sorry to hear you’re dealing with that but it’s not really appropriate for me to be discussing such matters with my student.”
“Just…” you held your hand up to try and stop him from standing and opening the door for you, “You must realise that you have a, um, a reputation.”
Roger was taken aback by that, throwing you a confused expression as he settled back into his seat.
“Surely you’ve heard the rumours about you. About what you like to get up to with women.”
“I can assure you I haven’t,”
“Seriously? Everyone talks about it. I mean part of it is probably just because you’ve got that whole DILF thing working for you so like half the students here have crushes on you. But then you throw in the gossip about how you like to tie women up and all the rest of it,”
Roger closed his eyes as if he couldn’t quite keep up with everything you’d just said, “How- I mean, those rumours have no bearing on- on anything and they aren’t even- what I mean to say is-”
“Professor, it’s okay. It’s just gossip, nothing serious in it. But if you do like that sort of thing, I could really use your help. I won’t tell anyone, all I want is my boyfriend back,”
Roger pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “This is insane, what you’re asking is insane.”
“No it’s not,”
“Okay, lets, Miss Y/L/N, just for a moment, let’s imagine that, hypothetically, I say yes to this. What then?”
“Well, I’d expect we’d meet up once or twice a week, you’d teach me the basics of kink, anything you thought I should know. Then in four months’ time I can talk to Dylan and show him what I’ve learnt and he’ll take me back.”
“Why four months?”
“Oh, we’re pretty much guaranteed to see each other then. Two of our mutual friends are getting married and we’ll both be at the wedding. So will you do it?”
“Miss Y/L/N, I don’t know that this is a good idea,”
“Why not?”
“Well our ages for one thing,”
“So what? You’re mature and experienced and that’s what I need. Plus, surely having someone half your age throw herself at you is a bonus.”
He smiled slightly, “All the same, it’s wrong. I’m your teacher.”
“Exactly, who better to teach me?”
“The ethics of this- and the rules of this university. If anyone found out I’d lose my job, you’d lose your place at this school so you wouldn’t get to complete your degree. Not to mention I’m sure you have family and friends who would chop my bollocks off before they ran me out of town.”
“It’s not like I’m underage, I’m doing a bloody Masters. And no one would find out. We can meet in secret.”
“It’s still so risky, Ms Y/L/N,”
“Look, Professor, I wouldn’t tell anyone, you won’t tell anyone. As long as we’re careful about when and where we meet no one will find out. Please, Professor. I need this,” you thought you could see his resolve cracking but decided to give him a final push, “But if you really don’t want to then I’ll find someone else. I’m sure I can meet someone online. Fetlife? That’s a website for this kind of thing, right?”
“Fine, I’ll do it.” He said suddenly, “But we do it my way. And certainly not on campus.”
“Okay,”
“Are you free tonight?”
“You wanna get right into it?”
“I want to discuss this further, off campus, to set some ground rules, and I think we’ll both be more comfortable discussing it over dinner.”
“Dinner? Like a date?”
“A business deal. Miss Y/L/N, if you can’t take this seriously,”
“I can, I promise. Dinner where?”
“Well, public places are out of the question. So you can come over to my house. Be there by Seven and make sure no one knows. Here’s the address,”
“Thank you Professor,”
Roger grunted as he scrawled his address on a scrap of paper, holding it out to you, “Go, out of my office before I come to my senses,”
You nodded and scurried off, taking heart from the bemused tone behind his snippy words. In a matter of a few short months you’d be able to put this breakup behind you and show Dylan just how much he meant to you.
A few minutes before seven o’clock you rang Roger’s door bell, looking around at the long driveway and the tidy garden beds at the front of the house as you waited. He opened the door quickly and hurried you inside glancing around the front yard as if someone were spying on him.
“I brought wine,” you said, holding the bottle out, “You’ve got a nice place,”
“You sound surprised,” he said as he took your jacket from you and hung it on a coat rack to the side of the entrance before taking the wine with a gracious nod and examining the label, “Y’know being a university professor doesn’t actually pay too badly.”
“Yeah but this place is massive,”
He chucked, “I inherited a little from my Nan and Pop and then there was the album. That was enough to buy this place.”
“Album?”
“Oh, I was in a band in my youth, one mildly successful album and a couple of writing credits on the singles set me up nicely. Not nicely enough to retire on but still.” He shrugged as he led you through his sizeable house, up a set of stairs and towards the back balcony, “Plus, this place didn’t seem so big when I was sharing it with my ex-wife and our kids. Uhh, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss. Now, make yourself comfortable out here and I’ll just go check on the food.”
You nodded, still trying to wrap your head around the sheer number of rooms and hallways you’d passed as well as the fact that your old Biology professor had once been in a band. It was hard considering you’d only ever seen him presenting lectures to an audience of tired and often hungover students but you supposed he did have a kind of magnetism that would have been at home on a stage. Still, you’d have liked to see pictures.
Roger returned a few moments later with two plates of food, a couple of wine glasses tucked in the crook of his arm. You quickly reached to relieve him of something, before one of the glasses could shatter and put an end to all your plans. Though perhaps a broken glass would have helped break the ice. It wasn’t the most comfortable dinner you ever had. You found it hard to swallow, hard to sit still, torn between wanting to jump right to the main topic and wanting to let Roger bring it up in his own time. The last thing you wanted was to come across as just trying to get a leg over the hottest professor on campus as if for a dare or a joke. Him retracting his agreement was a very close second last. Instead, you gulped down your drink and tried to focus on the reasonably nice meal Roger had prepared for you. Finally, after watching you top up your glass for the third time, he put you out of your misery.
“Why me?”
“What?”
“Why did you approach me with this idea of…tutoring?”
“Like I said before, the rumours abo-”
“Okay but there must have been something beyond that. There could have been rumours about any staff member. If the school gossip had said Professor Richardson had a sex dungeon where he tied up women and spanked them, would you have approached him?”
“So you have heard the rumours,”
“Of course I have. Answer the question,”
You stalled by taking another drink, though only a sip that time, “No, I wouldn’t have.”
“So, why me?”
“You’re hot?”
Roger gave you a look you’d seen in the classroom – his stop fucking around look, usually reserved for first years who still treated dissection and cadavers as a joke.
You shrugged, “You’re one of the best teachers I ever had. You always said we could come to you with any problems we were having and whenever I took you up on that offer to go over the coursework you were encouraging and supportive and knew how to push me in the right direction without giving me all the answers. I guess I felt like I could trust you. Like you’d take me seriously or at least hear me out before shutting the door in my face. And if the rumours happened to be false then you seemed like the sort of person who wouldn’t be offended by them or my proposition.”
Roger smiled to himself, but it was only for a few brief seconds and then his professional demeanour was back in place, “Alright, well, I’m listening now so why don’t you tell me about this ex and the sort of things he requested of you. And then I’ll decide whether to kick you off my property or not.”
There was a twinkle in his eye that told you he wasn’t serious about throwing you out, but it didn’t stop you from feeling timid about the conversation, “Umm, okay. His name is Dylan. We were both in your Bachelor bio class, that’s how we met. Or kind of. We were aware of each other but went to different parties and hung out with different people. It wasn’t until last year that we actually met and got chatting and started seeing each other. I thought it was the real thing, like proper love, soulmate stuff. So when he broke up with me it took me completely by surprise. Everything felt perfect with him. Except for the sex.” You paused, feeling a little self-conscious about speaking so frankly about your personal life, and with your professor no less.
Roger removed his spectacles and wiped them on the bottom of his shirt, “Ms Y/L/N, you’re going to have to be able to talk about sex with me if you actually want this to work.”
“The sex was fucking great okay? Especially at the start. But the longer we went out the more he pushed for me to be submissive to him. He’d joke around about wanting to fuck me while I was asleep or mostly asleep, and he’d dirty talk by calling me his toy or saying that he owned me or sometimes about pimping me out to his friends. I indulged some of his ideas like when he wanted to be especially rough with me, pushing my head down into the mattress, pulling my hair, slapping me, things like that. And it was fun, but I never enjoyed it the same way he did and whenever he brought up the sleep stuff or if he tried to bend me over while I was cooking dinner I always stopped him. He’d laugh about it and say he was just joking but I guess he meant it more than I thought he did.”
Roger remained quiet, watching you thoughtfully until he was sure you were finished, “If we did this what limits would you want in place?”
“None. I want to be the perfect submissive for Dylan, I want to prove I can be whatever he wants.”
Roger shook his head and put down his glass, “What was it you told Dylan when he suggested using you while you were in the middle of something or if he brought up the sleep stuff?”
“I just told him no, I wasn’t into it or I was busy.”
“Then that’s a limit. If you don’t want to do those things, that’s okay. Everyone has limits.”
“But that’s the point. I need to learn how to be into those things so he’ll have me back. My limits are what made him leave.”
Roger exhaled heavily though his nose, “Okay then, is there anything you would consider a turn off?”
“I don’t know,”
“Well I don’t believe that. I’m sure you have at least some idea of what you like and what you don’t.”
“Yeah I guess I do but if I’m the submissive one then it doesn’t matter what I want. This is about Dylan and doing what he wants.”
“Personally, I’m not big into feet stuff – toe sucking, foot jobs, anything like that – it just doesn’t appeal to me, whether I’m acting more dominant or more submissive, and I’ve made sure to tell every one of the women I’ve been with who hinted that they’d be into doing that kind of thing. A lot of women, in my experience at least, don’t like anal or things like knife play or scenes that feel violent or menacing.” He paused, watching your reactions, “From what you’ve just told me, it sounds like Dylan might be into free use and consensual non-consent so if either of those things sound like a turn off to you, you should let me know. Dylan will have limits of what he’s comfortable with and comfortable doing to others, I guarantee it. You need to make your limits known too. It’s all part of being in a D/S relationship and playing with any kind of BDSM type kink. The main rule we follow is safe, sane and consensual, and believe me, I will make sure we follow it during our lessons. So, is there anything you would consider a turn off or anything you wouldn’t want to do, even for Dylan?”
“Can I think about it and get back to you?”
“I suppose so. If it helps I can give you an idea of things I could teach you and you can tell me if any of them don’t feel right.”
“Yeah, I think that would help,”
“Alright umm, obviously because this is about what Dylan likes we should address consensual non-consent and free use at some point, but they would come later. Somnophilia too. I’d probably start with something easier or more common anyway. Spanking is nearly guaranteed, basic bondage methods – cuffs, ropes, that sort of thing – maybe some more extreme bondage too depending on how much you enjoyed the basic bondage. Ummm, choking, maybe some gags, tease and denial for sure. Any of that sounding too scary or intimidating or just not fun?”
“They all sound okay I think, although some of them I haven’t heard of before.”
“It’s a start at least. Of course, I would begin with the smaller kinks and work our way up to the more intense ones, and hopefully by that point we’ll both be more familiar with your limits and what you are interested in taking further.”
“So, does that mean your agreeing to tutor me?”
“I can definitely work with this.”
“You mean it?”
“Yes. Apparently I do.” He trailed his gaze over you for a moment, “How would you feel if I suggested we move this to the bedroom?”
Your heart skipped a beat and you hoped your shock hadn’t shown on your face, “You want to start now?”
“Sort of. What do we do at the beginning of a science experiment?”
“Measure a control group,”
“Exactly, you do a control before you mess with variables so you have something to measure them against. In this case, I think we’ll be able to tailor kinks to you better if I have some idea of what you enjoy during sex and what it takes to get you off. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, of course, yeah. Makes sense.”
“If you want to wait a couple of days we can,”
“No, now’s as good a time as any. And the sooner we get into it all the better really.”
Roger chuckled and stood, holding out his hand to help you out of your seat, “You’ve always been an enthusiastic student.”
Leaving your plates and glasses on the balcony table, Roger led you towards his bedroom. You wished you’d had a little more to drink, just to dull the sudden wave of nerves that had risen up. You were about to fuck a professor. Professor Taylor. It was a bizarre scenario you’d got yourself into and in an effort to distract yourself a little and calm down, you focused on his bedroom wall as he busied about closing curtains, eyes trained on a framed watercolour of a lake under some cherry blossom trees.
“You like it?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, it’s pretty,”
“I got that while I was in Japan a few years ago.”
You nodded, not sure what to say next.
“Are you okay?”
You turned and found Roger much closer than he had been a moment before.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes, sorry, just a bit nervous I guess. Feels kind of odd now that I’m actually here. If I’m being honest, I didn’t really expect you to agree to this.”
“I did tell you your idea was insane. But that’s okay,” he slowly reached forward, his hand settling on your hip and gently tugging, encouraging you to step in closer, “It’s kind of weird for me too. So, we’ll go slow. And if you want to stop at any time we can.”
You nodded, eyes glued to Roger, and let your tongue wet your lips.
His eyes followed the movement, “Does that mean you want to kiss me?” There was a playfulness to his voice, teasing almost, and you found yourself relaxing and agreeing that you did. And for the first time you realised just what it meant for those rumours to be true.
“So then kiss me.”
******
A kiss you could do. Pushing aside the realisation that this was your first kiss since Dylan left, you leaned in and pressed your lips to Roger’s, though you pulled away quickly.
Roger didn’t say anything, just waited, lips lightly parted. Your heart was racing with excitement and uncertainty, but you wanted more. He welcomed your lips the second time they met his, his hand gripping your hip harder now that he was certain you were going to stay. It was almost needy the way he kissed back, something you’d not have expected from your Professor. His nose bumped yours and yet he didn’t seem to care, leaning further into you, his tongue tickling your lip seconds before you felt it slide against your own tongue. Familiar but entirely different from the kisses you were used to. His hands didn’t move like Dylan’s did, not grabbing but gently squeezing, reassuringly firm. His leg was suddenly between yours and you took a step back in surprise. Roger followed so you took another and another until you felt the edge of the bed behind you. Dylan and your nerves almost entirely forgotten, you reached for Roger’s belt. He let you unbuckle it and pull it loose before he grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head, kissing you between looks heavy with desire.
He broke away for a moment and toed off his shoes, bending to take his socks off too, “So, is there anything you particularly like, any positions?”
You copied his movements, kicking your own shoes just under the bed, “Not really. I can work with whatever.”
“Stop trying to please me and tell me what you like Ms Y/L/N,” he said, reaching for your hips again so he could push your jeans down.
“I mean I guess I like being on top, riding, whatever you want to call it.,” you quickly unhooked your bra and let it drop to the floor, “But Dylan tended to like me under him.”
“New rule,” Roger said, kicking his own pants off his ankle as you tugged his shirt from his shoulders, “No talking about your ex when we’re this close to being naked. Okay?”
“Yeah, sorry, good rule.”
“Y’know I could have taken your bra off too,”
“Faster this way,”
“I’ll let you have it this time. But next time I unwrap you myself.”
You shivered at the implications of the statement as Roger resumed the kiss and pressed you backwards onto the mattress, quickly climbing on top of you, his hands braced on each side of your head as he leaned down to kiss you once more, hungrily.
He didn’t stay there long though. A few seconds later he’d shimmied down your body, creating a trail of kiss warmed skin, until his face was positioned directly above your breasts. You raised your head and watched enraptured as he his eyes met yours, the hint of a mischievous grin lighting up his face, and then he lowered his lips to the top of your left breast. You let your head drop back to the bed and ached your back a little, pushing your chest towards him.
“Yeah, you like that?” he asked, voice rougher than you’d ever heard it before, “what if I do this?” slowly he let his teeth sink into you, just for a second. It was enough to pull a small hum of appreciation from you so he repeated the action on your right breast.
“Feels good?”
“Yeah,” you breathed out, softly.
“Yeah?” he asked, pushing himself up so he was straddling your waist, “What about this?”
You felt his warm breath surround your nipple before you felt his tongue lap against it or his lips enclose it, letting your eyes slip shut as you drew your lip between your teeth. He seemed to appreciate the response and made sure to repeat the action a few times against each nipple, sucking on one as his gently flicked the other with his thumb. You tingled at the sensation of his warm saliva cooling and gently squeezed your legs together.
“Don’t be shy,” he said, sitting up again and laying a hand over each of your breasts, “I can tell you enjoy it when I play with your tits,”
You pulled in a shaky breath as he squeezed your breasts, “Mmhmm, yeah,”
“Do you want some more?”
“Yes, Professor,”
He made a short clicking sound with his tongue, “I think we’re past Professor by now, you can call me Roger. And you can tell me what you want,”
“I want more,”
“More what?”
You hummed again at the feeling of him massaging your boobs.
“More what? Should I keep sucking on your perky fucking tits? Jesus they’re so fucking soft,” he cleared his throat and shook his head a little, “Or, should I give some other part a bit of attention? Your pussy’s probably feeling a bit left out, huh?”
You’d expected him to boss you around, make demands, and you’d expected a bit of dirty talk (the kind where he’d tell you how sexy you looked or that he couldn’t wait to fuck you). But the reality surpassed everything you’d considered likely. You certainly hadn’t expected to get wet just from his tone and his words. And you definitely hadn’t expected to be doing what he asked, agreeing with everything he said. But that’s exactly what was happening, and it felt good.
“Please touch my pussy.”
“It would be my pleasure,” he smiled softly as he climbed off of your waist and pulled your underwear down, “and yours.”
The change of position gave you a moment to catch your breath but also to take in Roger’s appearance properly. You had to admit you liked what you saw. Of course, you already knew he was attractive. More than once you’d found yourself distracted in class, mind on what a cute bum he had or how shapely his hands were or else on his fluffy hair, light blonde but with streaks of grey blended throughout. He was the epitome of the hot teacher really, especially with his gravelly voice and the youthful sparkle of his eyes, magnified by his usual pair of glasses. What you hadn’t seen before, and what you were revelling in now, was his naked torso. There were muscles in his arms, not Hollywood style bulging biceps and you’d certainly never have noticed them under the sleeves of his work shirts, but they were revealed as he shifted his position and you had the sudden urge to reach out and squeeze them. A light fuzz of hair covered his chest, though it was so light it was barely visible, and a marginally thicker thatch of it trailed down into his underwear. And in between was his stomach, the years of fatherhood evidenced by how it softly protruded out over the hem of his underwear. Once, a few years ago, someone had found a photo of Professor Taylor taken in the 90s when he was twenty-something and, thanks to the university meme facebook page and a few students with near influencer levels of followers, just about the whole school had seen it and had wet dreams about it. He’d been stick thin then, eyes ringed by dark grungy eyeliner, long messy hair falling about his face, and his plaid shirt unbuttoned. The Roger settling beside you now was miles away from that boy but you liked his current look, from his shorter hair to his rounder body, though he seemed to have the same skinny legs.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked as he propped himself up on his elbow to look you over.
“This is…better than I thought it would be,”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t know, I just...I could never picture it before, actually being with you. But you’ve made it feel easy and, well not normal, but y’know, not too strange either.”
“So you’ve been liking it so far?”
“Mmhmm, it’s felt really good,”
“Good, that’s what I want to hear. But,” your breath hitched as you felt his fingers stroke between your legs, “experiments not done yet.” He watched his hand as it moved, his fingers sliding between your lips, spreading the wetness that had begun to pool with his earlier attentions. Each shift of his fingers pulled soft sighs and small ohs from you as the pleasure began to slowly build and you pulled him down into another kiss, wanting to feel him closer. He eased the first finger into you gradually, whispering questions about how it felt and if you were ready for more. You’d have expected his constant quizzing to be annoying but he peppered them between comments about making you feel good and dirty talk about getting you ready for his cock as he pulled your hand over to his crotch to give him some small relief. And somehow everything just seemed to turn you on more, his obvious desire to make sure you were comfortable included. You barely registered when he added the second finger, pumping both into you rhythmically as he delicately sucked at your pulse point, though you knew the third was coming, a response to your pleas for more. You’d meant his dick really, ready to move things along but he’d been adamant about making sure you were properly stretched out, not relenting until he’d fit four fingers inside you.
“Fo-four?” you whimpered as he pressed the last one into you, “Three not enough?”
“Just to be on the safe side. My cock is about average length but its girthy,”
“I – oh Roger – It feels huge to me,”
“Please, I’m 46, I know it’s not the biggest thing in the world. But I also know it doesn’t need to be to fuck you so right.”
You weren’t sure how to reply though he didn’t give you many options, jerking his fingers inside you and making you moan.
“I know there are nerves involved which can impact how wet you get and I don’t want to do anything that would cause you pain or discomfort, so I’m going to finger you until I’m ready to stop. You can beg all you want but I won’t fuck you until I decide you can handle it.”
Even that was hot though you weren’t exactly sure why, but whatever it was you found yourself nodding in agreement, staring at him through eyes half lidded with pleasure.
When Roger was satisfied that you were ready for more than his fingers, he pulled them from you and got to his knees, shuffling around to rummage through his bedside cabinet. A moment later you realised why as he kicked off his underwear and tore open a condom.
You watched as he rolled it down his shaft, noting he’d described himself quite accurately.
“Sorry,” he said as he caught your eye, “did you want to do that?”
“No, that’s okay,” you chuckled, “just that Dylan never liked to wear them,”
“Hey, we have a rule remember. And this is the first time I’m fucking one of my students, I’m not doing it raw, are you kidding?”
“Sorry. And yeah, you’re probably right to use one.”
“Hey, this is just the control remember. Condoms are a variable we can change later.”
You laughed at that and nodded as Roger squirted some lube into his palm and began stroking himself, letting out small groans at the contact.
“Are you going to fuck me yet or is there something else I have to wait for?”
“Careful Ms Y/L/N, you know I don’t tolerate that kind of attitude.” He smiled as he crawled over you again, catching your lips quickly before he sat back on his heels and pushed your legs wide. With a final look, as if to give you a chance to end things before they went any further, he lined himself up and pressed himself into you. You gasped as he filled you easily, bottoming out.
“God you feel good,” he panted, “are you okay? Can I move?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “please move.”
He breathed out a small sigh as he pulled his hips back and snapped them forward again, finding a rhythm. As he got more comfortable in the moment, Roger leaned over you again, pushing his face between your breasts and laving your skin with his tongue. He rediscovered the spots he’d found earlier, humming around your nipples and squeezing your boobs as he thrust into you.
“Feel good?”
“Yeah,”
“You close yet?”
“Not really.”
“That’s alright,” he said softly as he readjusted his position, sitting back and lifting your legs over his shoulders. You felt the angle change as he fucked into you harder than before, his pace a little faster, “Play with your tits for me.”
You didn’t hesitate to do as he asked, panting in sync with his thrusts as he dropped his fingers to your clit, rubbing in tight circles, forcing more moans and whines from your throat.
“That’s right, tell me how good it is to be spread out under your professor, full of my hard cock. Christ you’re so fucking tight. Why didn’t I fuck you sooner?”.”
You let your moans pick up a little as he ploughed into you, willing yourself to reach your climax.
“Yeah? You like that. Are you close now?”
“Uh-”
“So no.”
“Sorry, i-it just takes a while usually. I could f-fake it if you wa-nt to stop.”
“No!” his voice sounded strained as he stilled inside you, “This is about getting you off and I will keep fucking you even if it takes all night for you to cum. I just need to readjust again.”
Your laugh became a small whine as he pulled out of you and rolled you over so you were on top of him, “what are you-?”
“Ride me. You said you like being on top so ride me,”
You smiled and pressed your lips to his quickly before settling yourself over him and carefully sinking down into place. As you took him as deep as you could you halted a moment to enjoy the sensation of being full again, gently rocking your hips as you braced your hands on Roger’s chest. He held your gaze as he slipped two fingers into his mouth, pulling them out when they were dripping with saliva. He pressed them together with his thumb before bringing the wet digits to your right nipple, massaging it until you arched your back and tilted your head backwards. There was no way to resist any longer and you raised yourself on your knees before sinking back down, grunting as he hit just the right spot.
“Better?” he grunted.
“Mhmm,” you managed to get out before a moan, once again lifting and dropping yourself. You settled into the flow of it, the movement of your hips and the way you pulsed around him as you took him harder and faster, feeling the pleasure build and build and build. Until Roger’s voice, cracking with the effort, broke through your concentration.
“Fuck, I’m close, I’m close. I’m gonna cum,”
“Okay,” you said, not sure what else you could say, a little disappointed that it was going to be over before you could finish. So much for all night, though you supposed he’d only said that to help you relax and finish faster. At least it was hot watching him unravel beneath you, his grunts and groans loud and shameless, his hips spasming under yours. You waited until he was done, eyes closed and chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to regain control of his breathing, and then lifted yourself to dismount him. Or you would have, except you felt his hands grab you by the hips and press you down again.
“Your turn,” he said it so earnestly, no hint of the dominant teasing from earlier or any egotistical overconfidence, that you found yourself agreeing immediately, shocked into doing what he was guiding you to. You raised your hips again, let him pull you back down hard and before long you’d found your rhythm again. He let go of your hip, moving the hand to messily rub your clit as you shifted a little, changing the angle by a fraction. It was enough to have you careening towards the edge, even as Roger pulled air through his teeth as the extra stimulation.
“So close,” you muttered before he could ask, eyes shut, intent on your mission.
“C’mon, cum on my cock, show me how good it feels,”
You nodded unthinkingly as he encouraged you, feeling it just out of reach until finally the familiar warmth washed over you, a long moan slipping from between your lips as you swivelled your hips, prolonging the orgasm as long as you could.
“There you go, good girl.”
******
Roger gasped as you climbed off him and carefully removed his condom to throw it out.
“I could have done that,”
“You did enough.”
He was smiling when you turned back to face him and beckoned you over to join him on the bed once more, pressing a kiss to your jaw and the corner of your mouth before he found your lips again. You sighed against him, lost in the blissful warmth of the moment.
“I’ll do it. I’ll tutor you,” Roger said after some time, his arm draped over your side, your faces inches from each other.
“You mean it?”
“Yes.”
“Because I’m a hot shag?”
He let out an exhale of laughter, “Because I would rather you learnt about that kind of stuff from someone like me than some random on the internet who thinks that being dominant means being cruel or causing pain. At least I can make sure you approach things from a healthy angle with your own enjoyment in mind as much as your ex’s.”
“Thank you. So…when do we start?”
“Give me a few days to plan out some lessons, put together a curriculum.”
“Oh, so it’s going to be like proper tutoring then.”
“You’re the one that came to a teacher about this.”
“Fair enough.” You would have happily stayed there longer and you later wondered if Roger would have let you had an alarm on his phone not gone off, a reminder to put his bins out for collection in the morning.
He frowned as he realised the time and glanced at you. The piercing melody had brought the reality of the situation back to both of you.
“I guess that means I should leave, right?”
Roger sat up and scooted a little further away from you, “Yes, you probably should.” He paused for a moment, “No one can know about this.”
“I know, I understand. It’s our secret.”
He pulled in a breath, “Exactly, our secret. Do you need me to call you a cab?”
“No, it’s fine, I drove here.”
“Okay. Well, why don’t we get dressed and I’ll walk you out.”
“Are you okay with this? If you really don’t want to teach me, I’d understand.”
“No I want to. More than I should.”
“That’s okay. No one will know and we’ll do things your way, whatever you think is best.”
“My way,” he muttered to himself, “Yes. Exactly. Okay. Um, tell you what,” he swung his legs out of the bed and bent forward to retrieve the underwear he’d discarded earlier, pulling them up under cover of the corner of the bed sheet, “I will grab my things and go collect our dishes from dinner. You can stay here and get changed and then when you’re ready to go, come find me in the kitchen, okay Ms Y/L/N?”
“Sounds great, Professor Taylor.”
He nodded at you once more before he left, bending to collect his pants and shirt on his way.
You waited a minute or so, mind racing with the events of the evening and the promise of what would be coming, before you too stood and began to redress.
When you felt sufficiently tidy you stepped out into the hallway and headed in the direction you hoped led to the kitchen. Roger was there, redressed and hardly looking like he’d just got out of bed, leaning against the bench, eyes out of focus. When you arrived though his head jerked around towards your movement.
“All good?” he asked, “got everything?”
“Yeah, think so.”
“Well,” he said, leading you towards the front door, “it was great having you. Over. Having you over. I’m glad we could come to an agreement.”
“It was great for me too Professor.”
“I will see you in class on Monday, don’t forget about that reading you’re meant to do.”
“Got it. Um, can I ask about my next tutoring session, when would that be?”
“I will talk to you about it after class on Monday if that’s okay.”
“Absolutely, whatever works for you Professor.”
He opened the door, standing on his side of the entrance as you stepped outside, “Right, well. Goodnight Ms Y/L/N,”
“Goodnight Roger,” you said, quickly leaning in to kiss his cheek, “and thank you.”
He still looked a little stunned as you got into your car, wondering just what you’d got yourself into.
#my writing#my fics#roger taylor x reader#roger taylor smut#roger taylor imagine#professor roger taylor#it feels so good to be posting this tbh#i cant wait for ya'll to read it and also the rest of the series ksjflsflsjflsjf
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Frustration
Sometimes I see friends of mine or people I know post(mainly repost without thinking about the topic they are posting about) randomly about politics or tryin to be an activist on their social medias. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad people post and share what they believe in and 10000% for that (I do it myself all the time) but the problematic part about this is that certain people clearly only do it to seem “woke” or to only do it as a trend. Probably reason I can sense certain peoples bs and inauthenticity so quickly is because of their lack of interest in looking into anything that they haven’t seen their idols posting about or they just don’t care about researching or finding out about anything they’re posting and only do it because it’s “trendy” or some shit. Over and above global issues that people seem to dismiss so easily, people don’t have a clue about the shit that goes down in their own country. People often find it overwhelming to understand whats truly going on in our own state of economy or why our country is the way it is in the first place. People don’t outright speak on big platforms on South African politics (mainly because it isn’t as mainstream and isn’t nearly as popular) because it is tricky to explain, comprehend and even harder to come to a consensus of what you believe is right or what you want for our country. People normally don’t find the time, or are just uninterested in educating themselves on such a topic because there is no clear cut defined answer for all and because of how many things you have to rethink and take into consideration with certain decisions. There haven’t been many people who have made videos or statements about S.A politics that people can just repost and agree with (therefore people don’t care about it), without doing your own research like for example, America has. People just simply agree and create a facade of care and empathy without actually doing anything about the things that actually affect them. The most uproar I have seen on social media about any South African issue, is gbv (also, im so fucking glad to see so many protests and so much uproar about it). But gbv is one of the only things i ever see discussed (ofc it DESPERATELY needs to be discussed and even more as we all know, but this shouldn’t be where people stop their “activism”) while there is still so much more that just gets brushed off and ends up never being spoken about.
False narratives ARE created by the media to make us feel hopeless and like there is nothing that we can do to help or that our voices don’t matter amongst all the others. People create these views through lenses that more often than not, isn’t one of the people’s or one that has the people’s best interest. Quite literally like 90% of our news sources or media sites recycle the same information amongst each other which convinces people that they are reliable and unbiased, which obviously is not true. There are so many generational differences between us and our family members {older} that it’s difficult for them to understand the “newer times” and the changes in the modern era. It’s so hard to talk to them, trust me, I know. But just trying with the potential that you could change their minds out of their default wiring and setting of hate, is amazing. We all know how racially and economically divided this country is, but going through the chain of generational (and also systemic bc we know the state is corrupt asf but couldn’t care less) punishment literally promotes to divide everyone even more which causes us to take more steps back than we ever do forward.
Read books, articles. learn the history because most things that you learnt at school about apartheid, for example, and or any south african history in general is extremely white-washed and does not give any justice to how bad it really was and NEVER mentions the relevance or effects of it today. The perspective of any type of south african is so different, and understanding that you aren’t the only person with problems through ACTUALLY learning other peoples lives and having those open conversations is one of the most important parts of coming to change.
People often times seem to have a problem with “social media activism” but it all just depends if your intention is pure or not. Social media is a great way to advocate if you do it right, but no one seems to want to acknowledge that. Elevating your voice or other peoples so easily, just by hitting the share button. It’s the literally whole point because you never know who you’re going to affect, spreading it makes it easier and a lot more accessible AND IT REALLY DOESN’T MAKE IT ANY LESS VALID!!! I can never stress enough for how it can really make big change. People may misinterpret the beginning of this with me “bashing” social media activism or advocacy, which is not what I’m actually doing in the slightest. I just want people to take more time out to learn about our own social and political issues as well, I want genuine intentions of the people who are posting and i just want actual change.
This isn’t me trying to be fucking woke or whatever, but I genuinely care for people and their lives. I care about human rights, equality, and will forever be against anything or anyone that makes anyone feel like they have the right to take their rights away from someone for any reason, or that believe that their existence is superior to anybody else’s, due to skin color, economic status, sexual orientation or gender. I also care about my country, as well as lives in other countries and global issues as a whole.
This entire thing was quite literally a rant at 1am because of my pent up anger at the world but I am posting it anyways because it felt good ❤️
#social media#social media activism#south african issues#frustation#rant#human beings#human rights#global issues
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Hey, i'm actually a "truscum" i found out recently, but im a little confused on the whole ordeal. Im not even sure if i actually am truscum or not- because some posts seem to tie up with me being one but others dont, but i saw you were really against them, so i wanted to ask if you're okay with a friendly calm conversation about it? I am very confused and i just want to learn a bit more or find out if i'm wrong about the whole ordeal. Are you open to it?
i'll be honest im not sure how friendly i can be with this kind of conversation because i really truly genuinely, and i don't use this word lightly, Hate truscum and its hard for me to really be civil about the discussion. but for the sake of this and me giving you a lot of benefit of the doubt that this ask is in good faith i'll explain why i do not like the entire truscum ideology
1. i guess i'll start off with the Big One - the claim that dysphoria is Required to be trans. i'll preface this by saying that i am someone who has experienced, and currently Experiences in wildly different degrees depending on what is happening in my life, dysphoria throughout my entire life. i had my entire teenage and young adult years stolen from me by it. i won't get into details about it because that is a Very Very Personal subject for me, but needless to say dysphoria is something that was a very prevalent part of my life.
anyway. the notion that dysphoria is a Trans Requirement™ is something that i hugely disagree with. i used to think that me figuring out i was a trans woman was because i experienced dysphoria, but frankly the opposite is true. dysphoria is what made me refuse to believe i was a woman or could ever be one. it made me believe i was a man and that was all i would ever be. it wasn't until i really started experimenting with my gender and unpacking a lot of stuff i felt about myself that i started to finally realize the woman i was. i first started trying our she/her pronouns nearing four years now, and started using the name Alice a few months after that. being referred to as a woman & experimenting with different feminine things gave me such incredible feelings of euphoria that i still experience to this day whenever i discover something new about my identity.
and that is something ive heard from SO many other trans people i know. or different things too - i know people who are completely fine with their bodies, just certain words and terms never felt Right to them. because the thing with dysphoria is that it, like all things gender related, is a product of society. dysphoria only exists because transphobia exists - people are told that there are these two rigid things that you are and HERE is what makes you one of those things, and those things are drilled into you literally since birth. everything from colors to jobs to hobbies to cars to entertainment to clothing to Literally Everything is gendered, and when that happens then of fucking course there are gonna be people who don't fall in line with that, and when it's so instilled into people and seen as such societal norms of COURSE people are going to have trouble with that.
and that's not even getting into the subject of gender on a biological level. the fact of the matter is that the two sex system Isn't True and that biological sex is very complicated. intersex people exist, people with all kinds of different chromosomes exist, people of certain body types that have higher levels of different hormones exist, SO much goes into that subject that frankly narrowing it down to two things just doesn't Work
and that's the real problem at the end of the day. dysphoria only exists because of a fucked up gender binary that clashes with both biology and sociology. people are complicated on both a biological and personal level and having set binaries for things is bound to cause confusion & doubt.
like, people's identities are SUCH personal things in so many different ways. there isn't any Right Way™ to be trans. i know trans women with beards, trans women who have no interest in starting hrt, trans men who wear dresses and makeup, non-binary people who make no effort to be androgynous, i know SO many different identities and different people. because the fact is that there's no right way to be trans because nothing is inherently gendered including people's very bodies. people are themselves and there is no Right way to be themselves.
that's on top of the lack of education when it comes to the subject of gender. such a huge part too of me figuring out i was trans was literally learning that it was even a fucking option. i genuinely didn't know just Being A Girl was an option. reading up on gender stuff and researching the different idea of transitioning was intrinsic in my figuring out who i was because oh shit turns out there are people like me and that is Okay.
like, dysphoria literally could've been a non-issue for me. i could've lived in a world where i could just Exist and enjoy whatever i wanted without it being weird. i could've decided so much sooner that i wasn't happy with the way my body was growing and not spent my entire teen years being so confused why i was so sad seeing my girl peers. i could have from the start just gotten to be a girl and never have had dysphoria be part of the equation.
im not trans being i experience dysphoria. im trans because being a woman is rad as hell and it's what i wanted. im trans because changing my name to Alice was the biggest moment of my entire life. im trans because rebelling against the societal restraints of gender is fucking metal. im trans because my friends can't even remember me ever not being me now. im trans because im a great older sister. im trans because god nerfed me and i said nah thanks man but im not feeling it.
my identity and my gender are very personal and complicated things, and narrowing it down to "i experience dysphoria" is frankly insulting to me.
anyway, that's the big point out of the way, so here's some shorter ones
2. this is kinda expanding on the last point, but truscum both insisting non-binary people aren't a thing and them insisting "transtrenders" exist is hmm Bad
the sheer fact of the matter is the concept of being non-binary has existed from the oldest known records of human history on TOP of that concept being prevalent in many different cultures so what do ya know there's a healthy dose of racism involved in the denial of non-binary people. the gender binary is such a western concept and there are SO many different cultures where different gender identities exist.
and, frankly, going back to the above point that gender is fucking Fake and is a societal concept - again, of fucking course there are going to be people who see a rigid set of rules on gender and are like "well wait that doesn't fit me" so of COURSE non-binary people exist
on the subject of "transtrenders" i feel like i shouldn't even HAVE to get into this subject because of how inherently transphobic it is. the concept doesn't exist. there are people who experiment with their gender and then decide their assigned one is fine. there are people who go through all kinds of different identities. there are people who come out as a different gender and then revert back due to backlash. there are people who get told the way they present their gender is the Wrong Way™ and get branded a trender. it's a dangerous thought process that literally does nothing but serve the cis status quo and make people afraid to experiment and think about their identities.
3. the idea that Those Evil Trenders™ are stealing resources from the Real Trans People™ is, frankly, fucking bullshit. issues when it comes to trans people finding difficulty accessing healthcare comes from a transphobic society hellbent on denying us care on top of fucked up healthcare systems in general. hormones aren't some limited quality hard to acquire thing - when i started hrt transferring my prescription from my clinic to my local pharmacy was a non-issue because it's something basically any pharmacy will have for ALL kinds of different purposes. it's an issue because healthcare in general is a god damn Mess on TOP of inherent transphobia
and, frankly, truscum are directly involved in that transphobia in the medical field. unless you find an informed consent clinic you're going to have to jump through all kinds of hoops to prove you're Actually Trans™ by getting referrals from other (almost always cis) people and then get put on ridiculous waitlists to make sure you're not about to change your mind. that kind of attitude is only encouraged by truscum and it is one of the biggest source of trans people having such difficulty accessing healthcare.
4. truscum as far as im concerned are no different than any other transphobe. two years ago before i started hrt i was harassed by truscum multiple times, each time having them tell me i wasn't trans, that i was just a trender, and it genuinely boggles my mind that anyone thinks misgendering me because i disagreed with their ideology is Woke, actually. I've seen so many fellow trans women getting called men by truscum who disagreed with them. i was actively told i shouldn't start hrt because i "wasn't really trans and was gonna ruin my life"
i really hope all of people live in anger every day knowing ive been on hrt over a year and a half and am fucking Thriving
anyway that's all i got to say on the matter i realize my points became less thought out as it went on but frankly the first point is enough for me to not like truscum
(please refrain from reblogging this i don't want any clowns in my inbox)
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and ALSO sry to post bs on main im mostly just talking to myself in my personal tag half the time so yolo, no need to respond to this or reassure me or whatever but these days i licherally question how much of my - sry to sound like a broken record - bs is dépression or just my shité mentality, like i rly was not designed to last, huh? physically or mentally? lol. like who gets motion sickness on swings lmao anyways. i think i give up too easily. theres a bunch of reasons y but i dont feel like saying. its a different thing to kind of kno something, and to admit / speak it (confront it). i could psychoanalyze myself all day and tell u exactly why some things are the way they are but its too unpleasant to neatly state stuff like that u kno?? like... *i kno* but im not gonna say i kno. anywho, i digress. so i give up easily and kind of have a defeatist mentality too, its so exhausting lool. actually its weird cuz duality of man, i'll be rly determined / stubborn abt doing some stuff and not care abt fear of failure with certain things but when it comes to My Life / My Future i just think i cant rly do anything? i mean that literally like i got no skillz *laugh crying emoji* not particularly good at anything, and art - the only thing im maybe arguably ok at - i dont wanna do as a career, that is art therapy for me i dont feel like commercializing it. not interested in working in my major, maybe things wouldve been different if i went to culinary or cosmetology school?? that sounds fun. or if i majored in bio cuz i was so good at that, or even if i majored in japanese language or literature or idk. but no regrets tho cuz i learned a lot abt drawing in art school which i can use for myself. and hmm i like staying home and not rly going out of my way to meet new ppl so connections what? i h8 hearing how most opportunities come through the ppl u kno cuz its true and ik like 10 ppl tops so hm very sexi of me :^) i just feel like im p much f*cked and it rly doesnt help that i have no functional dreams, goals, or aspirations nor the confidence and drive to work towards anything so ah ok cool. u kno suga's songs "the last" and "so far away" ? that p much sums up my feels minus the part abt having to deal w fame obviously LOL. its so easy being a student (for me at least) but being a good student isnt really worth a whole lot in the """""real world""""" and the current education system doesnt even rly prepare u for reality or w.e like Deep Sigh also the political climate rly lookin like shité out there like hmmmmm do i even wanna try so hard to be here anymore tho??? also going back to the self confidence thing, ya idk her LOOOOL like it doesnt very much bother me tho? i really, honest to god have no idea what my redeeming qualities even are. being nice? and my mindset re - tolerance and compassion for others, etc, ya im rly proud of that actually but besides that i mean like what can i Do tho like hm im not particularly good at anything also im hideous like uglee but thats ok too like none of this Bothers me, thats just literally how i Am so ok fine, but i feel like it makes it hard for me to exist in the world i happen to be in??? and i realize im speaking with a huge bias here cuz my brain is totally out of whack im p sure if some1 saw me / read this they would lit be like um u literally do not have it hard girl, which is fair ur kinda right actually from an objective pov, probably? its amazing how um. hard? of a time my brain is having given my relatively ok circumstances but thats just how it is ig. and if i may quote shakespeare - o full of scorpions is my mind. and its weird cuz duality of man - i actually have a lot of good times w friends and whatever i have a lot of fun, im not even very Sad or in Agony its all very a mild? sensation? but that might be because my plan b is to simply *** so nothing rly fazes me anymore lool.
its usually a v confusing emotion, im either feeling happy, or if not that, very ???? im literally that duwang quote get a feeling so complicated its just "ajdjsjsja" idk its not overly repulsive and upsetting im like :s LOL u kno wat at this point idek what im even saying anymore but its good that im writing whatever cuz im gonna need to look back on this later and organize my thoughts for presentation cuz remember i have a s.o now???? i wanna let them kno so we r on the same page, and i dont feel like im tricking them, i thought it over more and there are like 4? major cards i wanna lay out on the table early on and they are 1. im not that close w my family emotionally so do not seek their approval or expect to deal with them much. 2. personal ideology / political views like im bi lmao and pro lgbt if that wasnt obvious also i dont rly wanna be around racists / terfs etc and if ur right wing or not on that respect women juice uhhh bye.. 3. my weak ass mentality how i might Maybe *** in the future like no promise but errrr theres one more but its a little more negotiable and also too early to discuss so i wont mention it but i already got the first two outta the way so ya. theres the most troublesome of all, #3. the last thing i wanna do is traumatize someone that loves me (and i love back) with that kinda thing, its too late for my dear friends whom i love, sorry i didnt kno i was gonna be like this LOL yall already got attached but its a little different with my s.o cuz i feel like its not too late to uh.... stop getting as attached LMAO like dam i've known my girls for almost 10 years whereas i've only known my s.o for like a month.
and this is totally not gonna come across right but if my s.o very understandably desides to dump me id be SO RELIEVED LIKE WOOOO ok cool cuz like essentially what i'd be saying is you are getting attached to someone who's future is not as stable as other people, including u. *huge exhale* from the bottom of my heart, my bad lol. and then i probs wont ever get involved w. a s.o again, sorry to reference snk in 2020 but remember how e*win smith is single cuz he doesnt kno when he will ***? big mood. i have never acted out on my interests before but i was like ok for once lets go off the shits and do smth ooc, i uh... didnt expect for it to actually go anywhere tho so now im like ???? i shouldve thought it through more tho, like i felt low key irresponsible af and selfish and dumb for getting involved w. someone even tho i Know how I Am like...... Also i just lov being single and staying home and chilling alone lmao like i seriously...... never get loney....
ok so what was i talking abt? how the passage of time makes me nervous cuz idk how i can manage to keep up w it??? how i feel like i cant do jack shit???? that life is hard???? and maybe a bih just wants to rest? permanently?????? i think the most irritating part of all for me, like what i am most mad about at myself is that i have no dream. yikes. naruto, do u think thats sad? well yoongi said its okay, and what counts is just being happy, so i will console myself and forgive her and idk just try my best for the time being??
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hi i saw your post abt self harm on the internet and i was wondering if you could expand on that!! im not sure i get entirely your point or what you would consider discourse in in regards to that and id genuinely like to understand what u mean because im not sure im looking at this through the right lense
okay, i’m going to make an attempt! i can tell from the tags people write that a lot of people relate or understand what i mean, but if you don’t? that’s okay, and maybe good even, especially if it means you’re taking good care of yourself.
so what i mean is like… when you do something; when you open a social media site or look something up, what will you get out of it? what’s the input going to your head and heart? how will it make you feel? and this isn’t a rhetoric question like “obviously it will make you feel bad” because there’s a lot of good things on the internet - interacting with friends and acquaintances, learning things and sharing perspectives, looking at art and getting inspired, looking at cute cat pictures, etc. we have so much information and media at our fingertips’ reach!! and it’s a double edged sword. because you can like inject all these good things directly into your brain, but you can ALSO inject a lot of bad things into your brain, too. like it’s really easy to look up things that trigger you in any way, and sometimes you might not even know something is triggering you. i don’t know if you’ve ever had that like, curiousity to check something out that you’re better off not knowing, but you do it anyway, because you CAN so why NOT. because we can!!! we can access everything so easily!! like people twenty years ago could not look up their exes on five different social medias and keep up with their lives. it’s wild how we can know what’s happening basically all over the world pretty much the instance it happens. having to care about the fate of the entire world is some superhero angst shit. you’re just one person and you’re alive and you’re going to like, be here for a while, so please take some deep breaths ya feel. but also the world is in a pretty dreary state right now so like. it’s rough. it really is!
and i’m not saying we should all avoid everything that hurts us all the time and put ourselves in bubbles or anything. hurt is gonna happen. the world is gonna be rough. but also, set boundaries for yourself. DON’T look up your exes. you don’t HAVE to know all the news constantly, and you’re not a bad person for taking a break to live your life. if you struggle with body image, looking at heavily curated and edited instagram selfies and comparing yourself to it is really just hurting yourself over and over. so i am specifically talking about the boundaries you hold to *yourself*. just because we CAN do anything and keep up with everything, it’s not…. a good thing to do. there’s just TOO much. a lot of the time i hear people condemn entire sites like twitter or tumblr for being toxic cesspools where only X and Y happens, and like, yeah, some of these criticisms are valid, but it’s also ENTIRELY possible to curate your internet experience. unfollow blogs that stress you out or circulate content or comments you find toxic or don’t like the attitude of. blacklist tags. etc. it’s easy to feel like there’s only this or that kind of blogs out there, but that’s not true. the internet is so full of different people, and there’s bound to be content out there that will make you happier if you need it.
so, in regards to discourse, i’m not referring to a certain discourse - i’ve been on tumblr for what, six years now? discussions come and go, and a lot of the time there’s been a lot of genuinely constructive conversations and discussions! but a lot of discussions out here seem to evolve into something much less constructive. some discussions just don’t GO anywhere, neither side actually wants to listen or change their opinion, people forget there’s another human being on the other side, and it’s just… at some point it’s like people forget what they’re trying to ACHIEVE by doing what they’re doing. some people are just taking out their anger and frustration on the internet. there’s a lot of infighting between marginalized groups - especially the lgbtq+ community, because we’re all hurting and scared and have so many life experiences from all around the world, a lot of us are really young, and it’s. it’s hard! it’s so hard sometimes. and the thing is, a lot of the discourse on internet becomes like, layers upon layers, and what makes sense when you’re on five layers on tumblr is NOT necessarily applicable in real life. sometimes it like… becomes the equivalent of an academic text where you have to go through an education to even understand the terms that are being used. like, personally? sometimes i see discussions i don’t have the heart to partake in myself anymore, and i don’t understand what’s being said at all. and honestly that’s such a relief to me. that’s not to say partaking in discussions is inherently bad! it can be really good! but for me, i can’t do it anymore. my personal experience was trying to act in good faith and be open to learn and change and i kept replying to someone who refused to listen to anything i said, and instead kept attacking me. it was like repeatedly flinging myself against a wall. the impulse to have a constructive discussion with everyone who disagrees with me on my own post is *there*, but it’s not worth it for me, because the stress and time and energy i inflict on myself for the sake of a complete stranger who does NOT have my best interests at heart…. yeah. no. consider if you *really* need to die on that hill. it’s okay to walk away.i don’t know if this will help or if it’s still too nebulous. it’s mostly about what choices you make and considering what you’re trying to achieve, and whether your actions are actually reflecting that, or if you’re just causing yourself pain and frustration. the concept of emotional self harm (especially through internet) has been put forth by several people, but some sources that have like, helped me formulate this whole thing has been- contrapoints video about incels - the podcast ‘just break up’- the podcast ‘conversations with people who hate me’
#it's 2am so i'm not going to proofread this right now sorry#apologies if this is late i was working today#fagheart#a lot of my personal experience comes from being autistic and compulsive obsessive#compulsions and internet are a horrible combination#those first times people in the internet attacked me under the guise of conversation???#haha why not compulsively read their blog every day for weeks!!!!!! HHHHHHHHHh no do NOT do that#too long for twitter
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