#again this is just from my experience plus teachers' advice that i liked and saw worked | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

josiebelladonna · 2 years

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trying this yet again because i’m tired. 18+ please.

Would you say that you have or have not had a strong sexual drive in your life? How does and did this level of sexual drive affect your intimate relationships?

I’m going to try really hard and not be negative with these, because I’m exhausted. Insecurity and no confidence are no joke and not something easily fixed by telling me I need to exude confidence or to “just be myself” because those pieces of advice are anything but helpful. And we wonder why I get so angry about it. These are meant to help me and meant to let me audit this part of me, this part of me that I have never loved or felt proud of before.

Looking over the last thirty years and I guess I let my own insecurities get the best of me—this shit always happens to me, too. Despite wavering and ebbing and flowing like the tides, I actually have had a very strong sex drive in my life: I just think about how boy crazy I am, how my eyes wander onto girls, and how I always have been nuts about it since I hit puberty. It’s only gotten bigger as I’ve gotten bigger, too.

Thing is I never know what to do with it. I could never picture anyone liking what they saw with me, so I always keep it to myself. I was so disinterested in the people, boys and girls, at my school that I never could do anything: being treated like dirt by your own peers since you were ten years old, yeah, expect to check out all together. There have actually been a few times I thought I was lesbian because I am really intrigued by the female form and to be honest, there are times I’m actually drawn to it more than I am men’s bodies and I wonder what lesbian sex would feel like. I never could experiment because of my environment: being openly lgbtq+ where I grew up was like suicide, yes, even in California.

There were no resources and I was too ashamed to talk about it anyway. I just told people I was straight because I didn’t want them to know this part of me. But… I do love men, though. I really love men, actually. I think men are absolutely gorgeous. I fantasize about men all the time. Hell, I have a crush on a man right now. So, I thought I was bi for a while and then I started seeing nonbinary people with really beautiful bodies. Ran around in circles and I eventually landed on pansexual. It’s good to know that there’s a name for it, but I still hold back. I can’t picture myself with someone, no matter what gender they are, who knows how to put a handle on this… this… thing that is my libido.

What struggles have you had with your sexuality?

Way too many to list. Way too many. I guess the big one is just being comfortable with it, to the point of genuinely angering me. I reject my desires, like I don’t find them normal or pleasurable. I don’t find myself as all that attractive, either. When I was a teenager, no one ever made a pass on me. Girls didn’t like me, boys were either taken or they didn’t give a shit. I didn’t actually start getting looks until fairly recently, like two years ago.

I have this very distinct memory from high school—I don’t remember the context, may have been for spirit week, I have no clue—there was a day where we all had to dress up in either red, yellow, or green, like the stoplights: red for “taken”, green for single, and yellow for “talking”. I remember I used to have green pants and I wore those plus my Green Day shirt. I got to school… and I’m not exaggerating. I was the only person wearing green. I was just in a sea of red with a few yellow spots here and there. I remember people staring at me, too, like judging me, like, how fucking dare I walk around out here advertising my singleness. If I recall correctly, it wasn’t just students, either, I had a couple of teachers look at me funny, too.

In what ways do you nurture your personal sense of sexuality, and/or sexual relationships?

I draw. I write. …I live on a mountain top, 20 minutes away from a trump bastion. it’s not like I have a ton of options.

I like to wear jewel tones and low-slung jeans: I do not like high-waisted jeans or shorts because they cut me in half and bunch up around my crotch and my butt (every. single. time); I really just… don’t get the appeal and why everyone clutches at themselves at the mere mention of anything low-rise. I like camisoles. I like pajamas. I like underwear: as much as I cringe at the thought of wearing lingerie, I do like just wearing a bra, and I do have a teddy in my closet, too. I like to wear jeans: I have never felt good in a dress before. I dunno, it’s a bitch to walk around in and sit in, and I hate how the skirt always wants to blow up (I’ve lived in windy areas my whole life). After a shower, I let my hair hang down for a few hours before I brush it: if I haven’t showered in a few days, I comb my bangs up into this pompadour upon my head so I have this Elvis/Dennis Miller thing going until I feel like climbing in. I like tops that are low-cut and are a bit snug: I really don’t mind if they ride up my body a bit. Only makeup I have is chapstick and nail polish: when I was little, I’d put on lipstick and eyeshadow and mascara but I never could get into it, though. I always look over made. “You’d be so much prettier, though!” Heh, nope. Even just a little bit makes me look like I just walked out of the circus.

Write about your first sexual experiences. Interpret sexual experience any way like, even it’s about you first kiss.

(Resisting the urge to be angry, even though I kind of am annoyed just reading this)

I guess there was the first time I touched myself. I was in front of a mirror and I opened my legs and looked at myself there. I touched my clit the first time and I remember it really tickled me. I felt my labia and even stuck a finger or two in.

And then naturally, I got caught.

Write about your last sexual experience. How was it different from your first sexual experience?

I guess this could be the last time I touched myself: I was standing up and had my underwear on that time (just to play around a bit). Did very little but then I moved to my nipples and I was starting to go nuts a bit. I also tried between the legs again naked, with a shower head, and that really did something. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is I’ve gotten a lot more sensitive as I’ve gotten older.

What were you taught about sex as you grew up? What did you not know that you needed to know?

How has your views of sex changed over time?

Gone from free to repressed to “I don’t want this, ever” back to free back to repressed to disgusted, really just all over the damn place.

Describe a sexual fantasy you have.

Let’s see: Love is Not Enough, Blood & Chocolate, Pitch Black, Like Blood From a Stone, the one shots in eclipse, black moon, eerie inhabitants/my vampire fics, Chave do Mar, last day in paradise, the one shots in paraselenae, The Apple Shed, and As the Seasons Grey, are all self-indulgent fantasy. Hell, now that I remember it, there were some chapters in fever that felt like fantasy, namely the chapter where Sam and Alex are at the Bristlecone Pine Forest and also the final chapter when the fever finally erupts into flame. I remember there were some chapters of now it’s dark that were fantasy, namely whenever Joey was in Black Orchid.

Turn a sexual experience into a piece of short fiction. Describe the setting. Use dialogue. Write erotic description.

Judge me forever.

Write about the best sex partner you have ever been with. Describe a special time together.

So… I’m a virgin.

What changes if any would you like to make about your sexual self?

I really want more confidence and freedom, and I’m wary of saying that, too, because I know what the answer is going to be. It’s going to be this bullshit, hackneyed, so-called “advice” that’s only going to piss me off. But, aside from the changes in career, I have had my boundaries disrespected by family, friends, peers, classmates, everyone. Everyone apparently thinks it’s okay to invalidate my feelings and my choices, and that it’s okay to make fun of me when I change my mind and think it over again.

Take the whole thing with makeup: girls often asked me why I don’t wear it. “I just don’t,” and also “I don’t like the way it feels on my skin”. Cue the “there’s natural makeup” and the “you’d look so much prettier with it”. I GAVE YOU AN ANSWER.

Write a sexual confession to your partner or someone you admire. Be straight forward or as kinky as you would like.

I look into your eyes, those deep blue eyes, as blue and deep as the Pacific Ocean. I look at your handsome face, how it gets more handsome when you’re smiling. I look at your beautiful hair, at how it’s two-toned and soft-looking: I look at your hair from when you were younger and I want to play with it. Don’t cut your hair short again: it was cute, but you look so gorgeous and more “yourself” with long hair (it suits your face better, too). No, you don’t need to lose weight: you look so healthily plump with a little tummy.

I think of kissing you there, touching you and holding you around your full waist, especially after you’ve eaten.

I think of cuddling with you—I love to cuddle and be warm and safe.

I think of touching you below the belt, of feeling and fondling you there: I have often considered that tummy rubs lead to handjobs, and tummy kisses lead to blowjobs. I think of you doing the same to me: that velvet tongue on the insides of my thighs; those long spindly fingers on my clit or around the rim of my belly button or around my nipples, those soft cherry lips on my skin…

I think of making out with you, just really slow, soft, sensual love-making where we’re close and feeling each other.

I think about some of the erotic fics I’ve penned about you, especially the really kinky ones, and I can’t help but want a few of them to come to life (like voice kink: I meant it when I said I love your voice).

I think of role playing with you: you’re the hot professor or scientist, especially now that you have glasses. Or we’re vampires or merfolk.

I also just think of kissing you, giving you a little peck on the cheek or the neck for being such a sweetie. You’re kind of everything that I’ve dreamed of, everything I love in another person, and if I’m being honest, you don’t even seem real sometimes because you really are that perfect to me.

What would you like to learn about your sexual self?

Why do I never attract the types that I like—I’ll admit it, too, I have a type (boys with long hair, artistic types who are liberal but have an open mind, smart ones, sweet ones, kind of round ones, curvy women, slender women, women with dyed hair, women with something unusual about them like bright eyes with dark skin). My facebook is littered with people I have no connection with, like there’s only a few that I really do consider friends.

What part of your sexuality seems the most mysterious to you?

Those lesbian thoughts I keep having. Even with as much as I love men, I can’t help but feel aroused by women as well.

And also why I keep coming back to this. Why did I keep my incredibly high sex drive under wraps when sexual energy is incredibly powerful.

When you hesitate to write something, what reminder can you give yourself to be as completely honest as you can, both factually and emotionally?

“I have nothing to compare myself to”.

What, if anything, about sex distresses you?

I worry about getting pregnant, and I’ve always known that this is why I’m so bored with regular old penetrative sex, and why I feel genuinely repulsed by the affluence of it in fanfic: it’s the weirdest thing to me, it’s like everyone has baby fever, whereas I don’t want children. Plus, I’m just genuinely grossed out by the thought of being filled with cum.

My poor stomach has been through a lot, too: I worry about having to run to the bathroom because my own erotic tendencies are sending my digestive system into overdrive.

What change would you like to make in your sexual behavior?

Confidence—I don’t think for one second that I add anything to someone’s life.

What change would you like to make in your sexual attitudes or thoughts?

I wish I could be more open with them and not feel like they’re weird or gross.

What change would you like to make in your sexual emotions or feelings?

Same story there. Plus, I don’t want to be invalidated.

What memories came to mind from the previous questions?

Let’s see… my crying to my dad about feeling lost after I moved back to California and him being incredibly insensitive and telling me to “exude confidence” and accusing me of being an alcoholic (when I can easily tell you that I’m not) rather than be a shoulder to cry on, listen to me and give me space and tell me I’m not wrong for feeling this way. You know. Be a man and comfort the most important woman in your life.

All the times I was asked “why do you do this?” and I’d give a legit answer and then they would respond with unsolicited advice or opinions.

This isn’t sexual, but one time, I cried in front of my paternal grandmother and she rolled her eyes at me. That side of the family just never cared about me.

All the times I showed any emotion and no one knew how to react… or worse, they wouldn’t leave me alone to the point of harassing me.

Nothing good or happy. I was never allowed to be myself.

What do you like most about your current partner? Least?

I’m a virgin.

Make three (or more) sexual wishes. Don't hold back!

I wish I could talk about this freely. I wish I was hot. I wish I was accepted. I wish I belonged. I wish I didn’t have to worry. I wish I couldn’t feel hysterical laughter whenever I say I’m a virgin.

Make a list of your sexual partners and write a few phrases to describe the relationship. What patterns do you see?

I’m a fucking virgin.

If you have a sexual partner now, write about this relationship. What works for you in this sexual relationship? What would you like to change?

Starting to sound like a broken record, I AM A VIRGIN!

Describe what your ideal sexual relationship would look like today.

You know, I’ve thought about this over and over again, and I still can’t picture this. It’s beyond my reach and my own realm to even imagine a regular old romance. But a sexual relationship? No. I can’t picture this.

I’d say maybe something with polyamory given I’m polyamorous, but that’s about where it starts and ends, though.

If you have been sexually dissatisfied, what has kept you in the relationship?

Doesn’t apply.

Are you able to ask your partner for what you want sexually? How do you do that?

The two times I have ever been out on a date, plus the time I cybered, I had the absolute worst time telling them about what I wanted. Well, for starters, the dates were first dates: even I can tell you that you don’t reveal too much too soon because that can push them away. It wasn’t like I could tell them anyway. But the second date, i.e., the time I was fixed up, I could feel that pressure, like… if this went past the first day, I would have to tell him. And I had no connection with him. I was bored sitting there next to him.

As for the time I cybered… I’m just going to assume that the first time is always awkward.

If you have difficulty asking for what you want, what are you telling yourself that makes asking difficult?

“Will they really know what I’m talking about?”

What are your sexual limits with your partner?

I don’t want to be filled with cream. No, I’m completely turned off at the thought of being pregnant. I’m almost mortified by it, actually: use a condom or pull out, or let’s use our hands or mouths.

I like a little pain… not too much, though. I like little nibbles or scratches down the back, or spanking.

No piss or shit, and none of that “daddy” nonsense, either.

What sexual behavior won't you do or would do only under certain conditions? Write about those to clarify your boundaries.

(see the tidbit with pain) Please don’t overdo it. My body is actually very sensitive and too much pain is too much.

As repulsed as I am by the idea of having penetrative sex, if there’s protection involved, I actually might reconsider.

I don’t like it too rough: I’m slow and sensual for the most part, but a little quickness goes a long way if I think about it.

In what way might your relationship with your partner deepen or improve by talking openly about sex?

Hang-ups about… noonewantingtobeinarelationshipwithme aside, I really feel like an open conversation could help a relationship. For me, it’s a “make or break” type thing: if they aren’t comfortable with it, they probably aren’t for you. If they’re curious, but they’re like me and they aren’t comfortable or sure in their sexuality, make them feel safe. Put your arm around them and help them because it’s very daunting, especially when you see they’re alone because everyone is either disrespectful and patronizing or “too busy”. Make it make sense for them.

Can you recall your first discovery of sexual fantasy? What was it about?

All I know is I was very young and I didn’t understand what was happening, either.

Write out three of your favorite sexual fantasies. If this is new to you, make one up now.

Here, here, and here. Speaking of which, I gotta update those latter two 😅

How have you used your sexual fantasies up until now?

Nope.

What began as a fantasy that you later took into action?

The time I told Alex I’m in love with his voice. It was way before I wrote voice kink one shot in eclipse, too. That one in particular was so much fun to write—kind of tricky, but fun, though.

What sexual fantasies work the best to arouse you?

I was pretty aroused writing Chave do Mar: Alex as a merman with a long shark tail, smooth milky skin, and black curls tousled over his shoulder. Same with Blood & Chocolate, too: Alex being over fed and it shows up on his body. The Black Orchid scenes from now it’s dark were pretty hot, too, when I think back to writing them: Joey surrounded by burlesque strippers.

Have you shared your sexual fantasies with a friend? What was the reaction?

…it’s pretty across the board.

Have you shared your sexual fantasies with a lover? What was the reaction?

I don’t know if I could be courageous enough to do that.

How important is it for you to share your sexual fantasies? What are your reasons for sharing or not? Does sharing fantasies break their "spell"?

You know that fanfic meme that talks about writing your dream fanfic filled with all your fantasies and dreams but choosing not to and keeping it locked away in your mind because you want it to yourself? Yeah, I don’t relate to that at all. I write them out because I want to make sense of them for the most part. I honestly don’t care if no one sees them, either, because I’ve never really seen my fantasies as all that mystifying: just these weird little scenes that roll around inside me and whether they face the light of day is up to me.

What, if anything, do you find distressing about your sexual thoughts or fantasies? Write about that to clarify it for yourself.

I don’t think they’re all that special or gossip-worthy or revolutionary or life-changing. They just… are what they are.

I think the one thing that’s distressing about them is how they almost always have an element of science fiction to them: I live in an imaginary world and to bring these out would defy the laws of science. They’re just not physically possible.

If you could say three things to the world about the nature of your personal sexuality and really be heard, understood, and accepted, what would you say?

I look and identify as female but I’m queer, plus I’m pansexual and polyamorous. Get used to it.

Please respect my boundaries and my choices. I don’t wear makeup because I just don’t want to, I didn’t ask for you to goad me into it because you think I’ll look prettier. I don’t wear dresses because I just don’t want to, I didn’t ask for you to tell me I look prettier when I wear one.

Make me feel safe and comfortable because… I never have felt safe to express this part of me. I have always felt judged, looked down upon, and made to feel small. We’re supposedly all about supporting women and their agency, demands, desires, et cetera… stop picking and choosing. What turns me on and what I find sexy is going to be radically different to what you find sexy and this does not give you the right to laugh at me or call it “cute” when I don’t intend it to be.

When was the first time you experienced feelings of arousal and what triggered those feelings? What did you think of it at the time? What was your emotional response to those feelings?

Like I said, I was very small. May have been from me sitting in front of the mirror and touching myself, I have no clue. I didn’t understand what was happening, either, or why the adults in the room freaked the fuck out over it, either.

The first time I wore a shirt that showed off my belly is another one: I was like four or five, and it felt right to me. Naturally, I was told that this is not okay.

Describe your first sexual encounter. How old were you? Was it consensual? If not, what resources have you used to help heal from that encounter? If it was consensual, what did that experience mean to you at the time?

So, I’ve talked about this, how it was cybersex that started life as a tangent during a serious conversation in the wake of tragedy, and—it almost didn’t mean anything to me at the time, especially since it started as a joke to lighten the mood a bit. Almost, anyway: I didn’t see it as this huge deal like, “oh my gorsh, I just had cybersex!!” But at the same time, I’m always hesitant to talk about it because it hinges on something bad happening (Dan Wheldon was killed and the boy I talked to saw him as his hero, and I talked with him for hours, and it went the way it did). This is something that’s showed up in a number of my fanfics, and it has gotten me called disgusting, too.

Who was your first romantic, sexual partner? What about him or her appealed most to you? What did you hope would happen with that relationship?

I wish I could answer this. Aside from the above, I’ve never had a boyfriend. Almost 30 years old and I have never even been kissed. I’ll admit it, it’s pathetic. I got sick and tired of hearing “oh, you’ll find love some day” when I was 17, and now I know in my heart it won’t ever happen. Really, I could have confidence through the fucking roof and no one will want any of this. Whoever said “everyone has sex” has obviously never met me. It’s so exploitative, too: this unfair assumption that way too many people have had about me and it only makes me hate myself.

Do you believe that sex and emotional intimacy are linked, or is it possible to have a sexual relationship without emotional attachment? What experiences influence your answer?

Linked but not exclusive, though. Casual sex is a thing, plus you can be emotionally attached but not want it; please don’t believe everything you see on Twitter (especially now).

If you could have the perfect sex life right now, what would that look like?

Something that lets me go about with my polyamory, I guess? I’m able to be with a man and a woman, or two men and a woman. (I’m just pulling stuff out of my ass here, tbh).

How do you define “awesome” sex (i.e. what makes sex better than good)?

Give me everything I want and maybe something the other person likes, like we’re all pleased—notice I said “all” and not just “both”.

How do you feel about PDA? (You can take this as far as “kinks in public,” too.)

Can’t stand it. Can’t stand seeing it, can’t stand the thought of it happening to me (insecurity and hang-ups might have something to do with that when I think about it), some things are just better left in private. As for kinks in public, though? I don’t know, that seems a bit much.

What do you think about when you masturbate?

Last time I did, I didn’t think about anything other than how funny my lips look.

What are your sure-fire turn-ons (and/or turn-offs)?

Turn-ons: touches on my head (you know when you get a haircut and they wash your hair really well beforehand? No joke, that genuinely arouses me). Touches on my breasts, especially my dark-ass nipples. Touches on my belly, especially around my belly button because it’s technically scar tissue. Fingers on my lips—not sure about tongues, though. Touches on my thighs and my knees (yes). Touches on my ankles. I like soft touch. I like being held. I like fantasy. I like intelligence. I like sweetness. I’m all about feeling and being close.

What are your thoughts about porn?

I still don’t see it as exploitative. One complaint I do have with it is unrealistic expectations. No guy is like that. No girl is like that.

What are your thoughts on foreplay? Favorite types? Best experiences? Wishes?

It’s so underrated. A few kisses or hickeys on a sensitive spot like on the neck or the belly, or fingers on the labia and lips on the thighs can take you a long way, and I can say that just from my own writing.

What parts of your lover’s body are you most drawn to? (If you don’t currently have a lover, feel free to consider past or future lovers.)

My eyes have always wandered to the middle of the body, their belly their hips and their thighs. I like it when it’s nice and slender, like I want to put arms around them there and feel them up, and of course, I like it when it’s a little full and round there (like a nice chubby little belly but he’s healthy as a horse). I like a little chub, and I think some people just look a lot better with it: it makes me want to touch and feel, and they look kind of… I want to say “juicy”. Looking nice and tasty—

If you were to “recreate” the early days of your favorite sexy relationship, what would they look like? Would you change anything?

It’s weird to think that I can actually answer this: I don’t think I would change anything. Maybe I could have been a little more upfront with him about how I feel about him earlier on because I just think about that one night in March-ish 2021, but there was a point to that, though. I wanted to ease into it, and there had to be some sort of opportunity to find with him because I see people hitting on him all the time, and I always think I’m being inappropriate with him, oh my god 🫣.

The beauty of it being online is it’s kind of the whole entire point to it.

Really, if Alex and I take it offline, we lose the clandestine nature of watching each other on stories or him fanboying over me like he’s a teenage kid again. Although I will say this: if it’s taken offline, given I’m a cuddler and very touchy-feely and sensual… I don’t know about him, but…

What do you want more of in your sex life?

A sex life? I feel like I’m boring and underwhelming, like you would think that someone who identifies as pansexual and polyamorous and has a high sex drive would have at least one conquest but… I’ve just never been respected or built up or even seen. Plus, there’s this whole thing about how women are not supposed to chase, either.

Would you ever visit a sex therapist? What would be the reason and what do you think their advice would be for you?

I’m on the fence. No, because my only real problem is the feeling of safety and wanting to be comfortable. And yes because sometimes a second opinion can help.

Is there anything about sex that embarrasses you, causes shame or fear, or makes you nervous? Or…what’s the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you during sex?

My fear of pregnancy plus I worry about shitting myself.

That first time you’re naked in front of them strikes me as nerve-racking, too, like that’s the moment of truth right there: when they see you naked the first time.

What do you tend to fantasize or dream about when it comes to sex? What kinds of porn or kink are you drawn to?

My fantasies are very sensual, almost artsy. There’s a lot of emotion involved, too, even if it’s casual, I still imagine so much emotion in there. (When you say, “sexuality isn’t my whole shtick” but you take a closer look and realize that yes, it very much is 😳)

If you were to create a sexy playlist intended for a hot date at home, what would be on it?

When my computer gets fixed, I’ll try this on my Spotify.

What are your love languages and how do they apply to your sexual needs? What about your lover?

30% physical touch, 27% quality time, 20% words of affirmation, 13% gift giving, 10% acts of service.

I want touch but no one is touching me.

How do you feel about being naked?

No opinion. It just … is what it is. I don’t fixate on flaws (I never could, either, even with my troubled relationship with myself), nor do I see it as a beautiful thing: it just it what it is. I take care of myself but that’s about it. What do you do with it. Why is this controversial.

Now, when I think about being naked with someone else, that’s where the fear comes in. I don’t think i’m a “prize” at all.

What’s your favorite way to be seduced?

You put your guitar on your lap, you brush your hair really nice, you have this little twinkle in your eye like you’re up to no good or you’re secretly going commando out of camera, you have a glass of wine in hand, and you talk in a very soft, husky voice when I ask you about your underwear.

Do you have any trust issues surrounding sex or your sexual relationship(s)?

A feeling of safety is a running theme here. I want to feel safe and comfortable… and I never have felt safe enough to even so much as look at a guy or a girl.

What do you look like, and sound like, when sex feels good for you?

Whenever I write something erotic, every so often I have to stop myself and close my eyes because I feel things moving. I get really quiet (everyone talks about screaming during sex: I’m the exact opposite, I get really quiet) and my hands start itching for the feeling. I bite my lip a lot, too—sometimes I do that without even thinking, like it just happens. It’s a long slow burn with me.

What is the most sexually daring thing you’ve ever done?

Flirted with Alex on stories. I’ve always sucked at flirting (I once went for five years without flirting with anyone because I suck so hard at it), let alone with a guy like him.

Any time I post risqué art on instagram because they’re complete pricks with that sort of thing.

When now it’s dark was being written and I posted those ink drawings on instagram (completely oblivious to the fact Joey was watching me).

There was also one time in school one of my friends had his pants hanging down a bit and I tried to pants him and he caught me. I did get to pinch his butt when no one was looking, though.

In your opinion, what does it mean to be good in bed?

When everyone is pleased and had their kinks out in the open. I think.

Have you ever had sex in a public place?

Sarcasm aside, why would I do this?

When and how did you lose your virginity, and how did you feel about it? How do you feel about it now?

Still a virgin here.

Have you ever had sex with more than one person at a time, watched others have sex, been watched? If not, would you?

I’m polyamorous so I’d definitely try it. As for voyeurism… maybe I’d like to be watched? Don’t know about watching others, though.

How often do you masturbate and what works best for you?

I go for long stretches of time without doing it, because I get bored with it. I’ve done it sitting down, standing up, on my back, stooped over, topless, with my pants on, in the shower, in bed… all with my fingers. Toys are one of my biggest hang ups: I used a vibrator one time and I threw it away immediately because it made me uncomfortable. At least with my fingers, I know where it’s coming from. But toys? I don’t know, I’m not really excited by the thought of sticking a piece of silicone or glass or plastic up my vagina or onto my clit. I’ve thought about it, for sure, because I’ve changed since that first time.

Maybe I’m just not trying enough, but I look at some on lingerie sites like Spencer’s or wherever, and I shake my head in disgust.

“Find one that’s best for you”, they tell me. Yeah, but nothing here is jumping out at me.

What are you most grateful or thankful for in your sex life?

Can’t say that I’m grateful at all. I’m all about finding joy and pleasure, and I have never found it here. Only pain.

What is your favorite sexual position, and why?

Amazon and doggy style, I guess. Amazon because I’m on top, but it’s also submissive. doggy style is like that, too, but the other way around.

Have you ever had an “inappropriate” crush? What was it about that person that drew you in, and what made it “not okay”?

All my crushes have been inappropriate lol

They all have been either older, or unavailable in some way like already taken or not interested.

I was never drawn to people at my school, so I looked beyond the borders: older people fit that bill for me.

Have you (or would you) ever tried role play? What roles are you drawn to?

I like fantasy and scifi characters (see my merfolk and vampire kinks; aliens and robots, too), and—you can blame you-know-who for this, too—I like the “sexy nerd” trope, too (the hot librarian or the hot scientist or the hot professor).

Are you more dominant or submissive (or a bit of both)?

I’d say “domme” but I’m definitely both. Yes, even with as much as I hate the female role and find it restrictive, there’s a sub in me.

How do you feel about your own body?

My hair, though very long, down to the halfway point of my thighs, is very thin at the crown of my head. I’m starting to grow out my bangs and I’m starting to get this Jeff Becerra c. Seven Churches look now.

I have a large head. A round face. Sharp eyebrows akin to Madonna or Zendaya’s eyebrows. A small nose. Brown eyes and coarse, wiry dark hair with blonde streaks and a reddish sheen. A thick bull neck and a slight double under my rounded chin. I get this weird growth of hair under my chin—weird because it’s like a Fu Manchu sort of thing in that it grows in two patches. Yeah, under my chin, too, so it gets really itchy and it’s a bitch to pluck.

Broad shoulders with soft collar bones. Lanky arms with slightly warped forearms—first time i gave blood, the nurse had to stick the needle in almost over the joint rather than in the pivot of my elbow; “knock-elbowed” as my mom calls it. Chubby little hands that are almost like paws. Soft skin but I can’t picture anyone wanting to touch it, though.

40ddd chest. A belly covered in stretch marks and was round even when I was thin: it’s even fuller and rounder now. Wide hips and thick thighs—my whole body is thick, though, my measurements are 55-43-57. I gain weight easily, almost way too easily—now you know the source of my anorexia and extreme angst.

My lips are small. And plain. And smooth. They just… are what they are.

I got fat knees. My lower legs are nothing to write home about, neither are my ankles. Slender, bony feet with toes that look like they just came off someone else’s feet.

This body is… I don’t know. Parents call me beautiful but if my piss-poor track record with my peers and crushes and this whole thing here is anything to go by… it should be clear that I have trouble seeing this myself. I only started actually getting hit on very recently, and looking at my appearance when I was a teenager, I did not look good at all. It makes sense that no one ever made a pass on me and I was the only one wearing green.

How sorry do you have to feel for a person having sex with you?

Kind of want to say “not at all” but I’m a virgin so I really have no idea.

Could someone know you sexually, properly know you, and still like you?

If you know me sexually, would you be willing to like me?

#personal #sexuality #journaling #text #lgbtq

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thoi2020 · 3 years

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u have advanced??????? wow. tips to qualify mains please??? help me with my modules.how do i solve them?????????

hnnng idk bestie here's some short tips n like if u want something more specific u can send another ask or dm me?

pay attention in class. sit in the front. listen out for what things the teacher puts an emphasis on. ask questions. yes, even the stupid ones. especially the stupid ones bc those are fundamentals u cannot miss bc a shaky foundation leads to a shaky building. also pay attention to ur teachers. theyve been doing this since before u even knew about jee they know what theyre doing. most of them want whats best for u, and if not specifically that, whats best for them n their institute which are usually similar things. im not saying blindly trust them without criticism but have some faith. dont dismiss them they prolly know better than u. if id followed my teachers instructions i prolly wouldnt have had to drop (but thats a discussion for another day lol).

revise notes on a regular basis. like. the day u studied it in class. then the next day. then a week later. then 2 weeks later. then a month later. google the curve of forgetting for more accurate time stamps. use flashcards for formulae n stuff that u have to memorise like inorganic chem.

analyse past papers. recognise the most important topics. but also there are some small chapters that are quite easy and some people skip them thinking there wont be any questions from them. ive given 4 papers of mains, and i can confirm that is utter bullshit. 1 question each from units and measurements, mathematical reasoning, stats, chemistry in everyday life, polymers, are guaranteed. u can easily secure at least those marks by spending just a little bit of time on them. esp for jee mains its relatively better to cover a wide range of topics with medium depth instead of just some but with deep understanding (the latter works well for advanced tho).

make a friend or two whos in the same boat as u, preparing for jee n try to keep each other accountable. tell each other everyday what ure going to study that day n then check back the next day. remind each other hlep each other out. also be friendly with the class toppers sometimes they can solve ur doubts better than teachers just bc something they explain clicks better. whenever i get confused about logarithms i think back to what my 9th grade classmate told me when i asked him to explain in 1 sentence n had him repeat it slowly to me multiple times. its burned in my memory and helped me so much.

practice tests. set the proper 3 hour limit and solve them. be honest w urself ure doing this for u. no point scoring 256/300 to impress ur teacher if u cheated bc on the day of the exam ure going to be screwed. in the beginning try out different strategies, different ones work for different ppl. like for me, math is my favourite and i find it easier than the other 2 so i do it first and it gives me confidence. then i move on to physics and then chem. some people look over the entire paper n solve the easiest from every section first, then the medium ones, then the tough ones. experiment in ur practice tests n figure out whats best for u n ur test taking. after the test, analyse. see what u got wrong, why u got it wrong. clarify doubts. mark problem questions to revise and solve again later. no point in solving more n more questions if theres no retention or learning.

for solving books specifically under the cut bc this is getting too long lol:

stick to 1 or 2 books max per subject. make them ur holy books and swear by them. if ure doing coaching then the modules provided by them are a very good option bc theyre specifically for jee and will cover what u need. coaching teachers will have a lot of experience with them too so u'll have an easy time with doubts clarification. if u choose other books tho, still consult with ur teacher and ask them to tell u what's relevant and what isnt and dont waste ur time on whats not. it might make u look or feel smarter to be solving questions on stuff thats beyond the scope of the exam but u literally dont need it and the syllabus is already very vast so ure just going to waste time and brainspace. like sure if ure interested study it in ur own time but dont make it an Important Must Do thing.

ok now that u have ur book with everything relevant to jee, make sure u devour them. study the theory alongside ur class notes. solve a few questions of corresponding topics the day they are covered so u dont have so many questions lined up at the end of the chapter. like if i studied friction in newton's laws of motion today, i'll solve the questions relevant to friction today itself. or u know this week. like,, keep it current. then while solving, speak out loud and explain the problem to urself like ure teaching someone else (or better yet, find someone to teach them to. stuffed toys, younger siblings, ur classmate, grandparents, online friend, whichever works). mark all the questions that took u longer than 5 mins or u cant solve at all. dog ear the pages. try them again the next day. then again a few days later. take the ones u still cant solve to ur teacher. try n ask for just a hint once and try again. and then if u cant then ask for the solution. DO NOT go on the internet. ur brain doesnt have to work for it then n u think u got it but u dont got it. make ur brain work for the solution so it'll remember.

now that uve given a good shot to every question and figured out where u stumble. analyse a bit. find a pattern if theres any: like a certain concept that is weak or something ure not understanding. read the theory for it if u have to n ask questions to clarify. then solve these problem questions again and again until u know every question well enough to be able to explain to someone. skip over the easy ones u dont gotta do them again n again, focus on the ones u stumbled on. theyre the weak spots. no use strengthening whats already strong enough.

and uh keep a notebook of the solutions of the questions u solve so that u dont have to go crazy searching for them in an emergency. like ur paper is tomorrow and u cant figure out this question that uve been trying for 1 hour then its a good time to review ur previous solution and refresh ur memory. often if uve practiced enough n its just exam stress etc thats making ur mind go blank then just a hint will be enough to remind u.

also this is more general but just. be consistent. small consistent efforts over multiple days instead of a big one in 1 day. u’ll retain better and ur brain does better with multiple small chunks spread out over an interval than a lot of stuff in a small one. and its ok to to have an off day dont kill urself over academics ur health is more important always. not getting into ur dream college might fuck u up but itll heal but ur health is more precarious and not getting enough sleep or food will def fuck u up and the consequences are a lot harder to deal with. dont think about the big picture or u’ll freak urself out just think about the next small step u can take. getting 99 percentile feels impossible but solving 10 questions for it does not. dont get disheartened by test results if ure working hard n smart u wont fail. even if u dont get into ur dream college u’ll have an excellent work ethic that’ll take u places u never thought of in ur wildest dreams. more than anything, be kind to urself and work n play hard.

#good luck!!!#sorry for the unpunctuated typing this was long i cba <3 #anonymous #again this is just from my experience plus teachers' advice that i liked and saw worked #tw iit jee #lmk if u wanna know sth else?#hope this helps #long post

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hops-hunny · 3 years

Text

Temptation

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x McGonagall!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4k

Request: “Could you maybe do a Neville x reader where the reader is McGonagall's grandchild?”

Summary: Neville had never experienced temptation, till it walked by him in a pleated skirt.

Warnings: Suggestive thoughts???

A/N: I won’t even lie, this was very self indulgent. I didn’t mean to write this much but oh well! Also I noticed I read the prompt wrong and wrote this for fem reader so I apologize anon. I still hope you can find joy in this!

Temptation. Temptation was a word Neville knew well. He had heard it many upon many times. From his peers, and even some of his teachers. However, he never really understood what it felt like to experience it, to have it coursing through his very being. Well, that was until it came knocking on his door or, to put it more precisely, walking by him in a (y/h/h) robe and vanilla-lavender perfume. He didn’t expect it to have such a beautiful laugh and he certainly didn’t expect it to be McGonagall's granddaughter! No matter how many times he had heard it described to him and how many times he had heard the feeling be recited to him like one of those shit muggle pop songs, it still didn’t prepare him for the real experience itself.

Could she be anymore perfect? Anymore graceful, anymore well, tempting? She was the kind of beauty that he read about in books and the kind of beauty he saw when he looked at all the flowers that bloomed within the greenhouse. He watched, observing her beauty as she walked. His face flushed softly as he saw her eyes light up, head facing straight ahead and shoulders held high unaware of his eyes of adoration upon her. His gaze was then shifted to her hair. The way the light reflected off of the (h/c) strand made his heart race! Next was one of his favorite things, her smile. Her smile was enough to brighten anyone's day! Well...it most certainly brightened his that is. His eyes fixated on her legs, the soft sheen they held. ‘God they look smooth, like the softest of pillows, the smoothest of silks, the fluffiest, puffiest of clouds. I bet the-’ he was broken out of his thoughts as she came to a stop in front of her grandmother which made him a bit queasy to his stomach. If only McGonagall new about his thoughts...wait did she? She could be using legilimency on him this very moment and he’d have no clue. What if she was, what if she-

He jumped, squeaking softly as a hand came down hard on his shoulder causing his body to tense. And his gaze to shift to the source of the force relaxing when he saw it was Dean.

“Hey Nev, what are you doing just standing here? Oh I see what it is!” He exclaimed smiling at his lanky friend, watching his eyes flicker back and forth between in front of him and back to himself. Neville gulped, tugging at his sleeves a bit as his shirt suddenly began to feel constraining.

“Y-you do?” he asked nervously. His throat began to feel smaller. The problem with Neville’s little…’temptation’ was that he hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had feelings for people before. He had his fair share of crushes throughout the year. But she was different. See, he wasn’t the first one to notice how beautiful the girl was. Heavens no! Quite a few of his peers had noticed just how breathtaking (Y/n) was but once they saw the last name that was attached to her, that was more than enough to turn them the other way. However, the connection to her grandmother not only put up an invisible force field for suitors, but friends as well. He found himself feeling sorry for her often, he could only imagine how lonely she was.

“Yeah, I do. You were waiting for me to find you so you could help me with my herbology homework! Man Nev, you’re such a good friend.” he said. Neville rolled his eyes noticing all of Dean’s missing coursework for herbology within his hands. As much as he loved his friend, he also couldn’t deny how unbelievably idiotic he was. Although he was disappointed in how irresponsible he was, he was also relieved he hadn’t noticed what had actually had him standing there lost in his thoughts. “Oh and I also saw you staring at McGonagall junior. I don’t blame you mate, she’s bloody fit. Have you seen her in that skirt she wears to Hogsmeade? It makes me just wanna-” Neville smacked his friend on the back again ignoring his groan of protest. He began to walk off leaving Dean confused. Neville noticed the lack of his friend's presence near him causing him to turn around.

“Do you want help with your herbology work or not?”

-----------

(Y/n) sat with Luna in the courtyard, watching as her friend picked at the wildflowers twisting them and molding them into a flower crown. She sighed once again as she continued to ramble onto her. “I don’t know Lu, he’s just so cute! I wouldn’t even know how to approach him. Besides, he probably wants someone from his own house and year, yknow?” She said as she glanced at her preoccupied friend. “Are you even listening to me?” she huffed frustratedly. Luna looked at her, rolling her eyes at her a bit.

“You’re only a year below us (Y/n), you talk about him as if he’s an old man! Besides, the whole different house thing would only matter to him if he was a Slytherin. Neville doesn’t care about little things like that.” she took the completed crown placing it on her friend’s head as she smiled at her. “Yknow, for someone at the top of your year you’re quite daft.” Luna said nonchalantly, causing her friend’s eye to twitch. One thing (Y/n) would never get quite used to is her friend’s ability to tell people the truth as if it were nothing. Luna squeezed the girl’s soft (s/c) hand before smiling at her. “Besides, you’re beautiful! If he doesn’t want you, I know there are plenty of guys who most certainly do!” (Y/n) felt herself get quite shy at her friend’s words, rubbing at the goosebumps that were forming on her arm. But, she was right. She couldn’t let her thoughts of if or if not a guy liked her get her down.

“Hey (Y/n), have you ever, yknow, actually tried TALKING to the guy?” Ginny asked, smacking on the taffy she had been eating. The (e/c) eyed girl felt herself getting flustered once again.

“W-well, the short answer is no. Don’t look at me like that! I’ve TRIED. Every time I try something comes up! I’m either almost late to class, one of his friend’s comes up to him, or I have to do something for my Nan! It’s a lot harder trying to talk to someone when you don’t have any classes with them..” she said as she began to pout, reminded of her failed attempts to speak to the awkwardly charming boy. Ginny popped another taffy in her mouth, processing her friend's words before smirking a bit.

“Just leave it to me, I have the perfect plan! Don’t you worry a single little hair on that pretty head of yours.” she said, causing both of her friends to side eye her both with the same thought in mind: ‘Oh Merlin, what is she thinking now?’

---------------

Well, what Ginny had been thinking wasn’t too bad but, (Y/n) was still quite nervous as she sat here. She was thankful Ginny hadn’t trapped them in a 1 on 1 situation or did something fucking stupid such as locking them in the room of requirement together. No, instead she had gathered her and Neville’s shared group of friends and decided to have a picnic together whilst everyone else was at Hogsmeade. Luna had asked the house elves to spare some of the extra food they had from lunch which they gave to her kindly considering how sweet she was to them always.

Even though all of their friends were there, she still found herself being nervous which is why she still sat on the blanket with Hermione as Ron, Harry, and Dean picked on Neville lightheartedly by splashing him with water, Ginny and Luna challenged each other to different swim challenges, and Hermione read a book, relaxing comfortably under the shade of the tree. She sighed to herself, hugging her legs closer to her chest as she brought her face to rest upon her knees. She let her eyes wander back to Neville, a smile gracing her face as she observed him. She never got the time to just watch him in a natural environment. Every time she saw him, he was always so jumpy or nervous, awkwardly engaging in conversation with people who usually just wanted herbology help or needed advice on how to care for their plants. But now, watching as he smiled and laughed with their friends she realized just how infatuated with him she truly was. She took in the way his hair looked wet, his usually wavy hair drooped, water dripping from the strands. She smiled, noticing the way his crooked smile looked when he was his happiest. She began to get flustered noticing the way his arms had a bit of definition to them which (Y/n) could only assume came from all the heavy lifting he did for Professor Sprout in the greenhouse.

“You should join him. Sitting there and wondering what could be isn’t gonna get you anywhere.” (Y/n) gasped a little, whipping her head around quickly to look at her friend whose eyes were still fixated on the book in her hand, flipping the pages delicately.

“H-how did yo-”

“How did I know? You’re so predictable. Plus, you’re a little chatterbox. The only time you shut up is when you look at him.” Hermione giggled, finally peering at her friend over her book. She closed it and set it down on the blanket before taking off her cover up. She held a hand down to her friend. “Well, are you coming?” (Y/n) looked up at her friend, biting the inside of her cheek as she thought about it before nodding, letting Hermione pull her up. She began to take off her own cover up before taking a deep breath. She looked at her friend and they began walking towards the lake.

“I’ve never seen ‘Mione in a swimsuit before. She looks...like a girl.” Ron said to his friends as they watched the two girls near the lake. His friends all responded in some form of agreement. He turned to look at Neville, smirking as he saw him staring at the girls. “It looks like you agree don’t you, Nev?” Neville shook his head, a light blush coating his cheeks. Unknown to his friends he wasn’t looking at Hermione though, he was looking at her.

“Yeah, she’s quite beautiful.” This didn’t go unnoticed by Ginny though who smirked, deciding to turn things up a notch.

“Hey, why don’t we all play some chicken? There’s enough of us!” Ginny said, beginning to walk over to the guys with Luna not too far behind her. “Unless you guys are scared, you know I’m the chicken champion so I wouldn’t be surprised if you w-”

“Don’t be ridiculous Gin! You know for a fact I’m way better than you, I proved that when you came to my place last summer.” (Y/n) said giggling at her overly confident friend. She tried sneaking a glance at Neville but found she had been caught in the act as Neville was already staring at her. She looked away quickly rubbing the back of her neck. Wait, why was Neville already looking at her?

She shook herself out of her thoughts as they all began to pair off for chicken. The (h/c) haired girl went to approach one of her friends but found that Ginny and Harry already paired. She quickly tried turning to Hermione who made her way over to Ron. She sent one last pleading glance Luna’s way but the girl simply smiled at her before walking over to Dean. She felt her heart race at what she already suspected to happen. “I-I guess it's us, Nev.” she felt herself growing a bit insecure at having to sit on the boy’s shoulders. Although she was short, she didn’t have as small of a frame as her other friends did. “L-listen Neville, if I’m too heavy or too much for you to lift don’t even worry about it! I have no problem bei-”

With all the courage Neville could muster, he took a deep breath diving under water before rising up with the girl on his shoulder as his large hands gripped at her thighs making sure she was sturdy on his shoulders. She shrieked a bit at the unexpected gesture, gripping at his hair a bit. Holy shit was his heart racing. Had he really just done that? What had gotten into him? ‘Don’t back down, Nev! Say something cool, say something cool!!’

He cleared his throat some, before patting her thigh with his hand. “You’re fine. Y-you don’t weigh much of anything.” He said. She felt herself relax some, hoping he couldn’t feel the goosebumps on her thighs. However, Neville’s thoughts were far from the goosebumps. He couldn’t help himself from thinking that they were just as soft as he had imagined them to be. He was in deep and he knew it. “L-l-listen (Y/n), I-”

“Alright who’s going first? Me vs ‘Mione maybe? Come on Harry, move faster!” Ginny said. (Y/n) found herself trying to stifle a giggle at the sight before her. Ginny was tugging at Harry’s hair and yelling at the boy as he argued back. She couldn’t contain herself at the sight, she began to laugh trying to make sure she didn’t fall off Neville’s shoulders at the movement.

Neville however was so entranced at that sound. He found himself wanting to be the person to cause that melodic giggle to come from her every time. “They’re so cute aren’t they?” she asked as he hummed in agreement. “I’d love to have something like that.” she mumbled to herself, however Neville had heard.

-------------------------------

Ginny was on a win streak, she had beaten Luna and Dean, and Hermione and Ron. She was feeling confident as she banged on her chest cheering which reminded (Y/n) of a muggle movie her aunt once showed her. She had been absentmindedly petting Neville’s hair, running her fingers through it as she swirled it around her fingers. He hadn’t minded though, his face was flushed a bright pink and he was much too scared to say anything, worried that if he did he would end up waking up in his bed and it all would’ve been a dream. He heard his favorite voice pull him out of his thoughts.

“We’re up next Nev, think we’ll win?” she asked as she leaned over, her face appearing in front of his upside down. He jumped a bit, pulling his face back and tightening his grip on her legs.

“C-careful (Y/n!) You might fall if you’re not!” he said, staring into her eyes. God were they beautiful.

“I doubt it, I’ve got you holding me up. I trust ya, you wouldn’t let me fall.” she said giggling as she leaned back up, her lips accidentally brushing against his nose and forehead on the way back up which has caused both of them to freeze up and a silence to fall upon the two. Their eyes both watched as Luna fell off of Dean’s shoulders again as Ginny cheered at another victory.

“But to answer your question, I think we’ve got this in the bag! Let’s do this!” He said as he waded over to them. She smiled at his enthusiasm as they looked over at them. She looked over at Luna who gave her a wink causing her to grow shy once more.

“Ah a new challenger approaches!” Ron exclaims, his eyes drifting to the pair. Neville glared at Ron a bit when his eyes lingered on the girl above him’s figure for just a tad too long before he cleared his throat.

“We’re gonna kick your ass, Gin! Prepare to get that gorgeous red hair of yours soaked! Isn’t that right, Neville?” She asked looking down at his head as he nodded along. “Consider this a rematch to last summer. I’ve come to snatch my crown right from off your head.” she said placing an invisible crown done on her head laughing as Ginny scoffed at her actions.

“Bring it on (y/h/h)!” She said as Harry began to walk over to her. The two girls both began to approach each other with looks of determination in their eyes. Neville let his eyes wander to the water watching the girl’s actions through the water.

“Beautiful..” he muttered in awe as he gazed upon her affectionately. Although he was nervous, he was even more so nervous of letting her down. He tightened his grip on her plush thighs as a determined expression made its way to his face.

Ginny and (Y/n) both began pushing and tugging at each other trying to get each other to fall. And (Y/n) did have to admit, it was no easy feat considering how tone Ginny was from quidditch practice and how out of shape she was herself from all those late night cake sessions with the house elves but it didn’t deter her at all. She continued to push and shove at Ginny. If she could only get a better grip...she didn’t have that much time to do so as the redhead girl gave a particularly hard push causing the girl to almost topple over. Almost being the key word. Neville gripped at her a bit harder at her as she went backwards causing her to fling forward with quite a bit of force. Using said force to her advantage, the (y/h/h) girl was able to push Ginny, sending her and Harry falling in. They both cheered Neville spinning around with her as they laughed before he felt something tug his leg sending them both flying into the water.

Neville resurfaced, spluttering a bit as he shook his head a bit. “Sod off, Harry! You’re a sore loser!” He exclaimed laughing with his friend. He turned to his side remembering the (h/c) girl. He watched as she resurfaced and took a gasp of air. His breath hitched as he watched the way she pushed her hair back, chest on display behind her swimsuit. God was she gorgeous.. He shook himself out of his thoughts, pushing some of her hair behind her ear that she had managed to miss. He watched as she looked away from him shyly muttering a soft thank you towards him.

They went at it for a bit more, the girls all determined to at least win one round. At some point, Ginny even put Harry on her shoulders and as it turned out, he was way worse at chicken than she was. Even Luna had somehow managed to beat him. But as they all went on, the group grew hungry and decided as the sun would be setting soon, it’d be a good idea to eat like they originally planned. They all gathered around on the large gingham blanket and once again, her friends turned against her leaving the only spot available for her next to Neville. However, unlike last time she decided to take full advantage of the situation. She feigned a shiver, catching his attention as she hoped.

“A-are you cold, (Y/n)?” He asked, eyes full of concern.

“Yeah, just a bit Nev!” she smiled back at him, popping another grape into her mouth. Neville looked at her blankly for a bit before deciding to give into his temptation. See, the thing with Neville wasn’t that he was scared. No, in fact he had had his fair share of flings during his time at Hogwarts unbeknownst to his friends. It's just, she was different. He made his heart race in different ways and gave him goosebumps on his arms and back. She made his brain short circuit from the mere sight of her. However, he knew she would not be single forever. He wasn’t oblivious to the lingering looks his friends had been given her throughout the night and he certainly wasn’t going to stay in the same lane as them. So, without a second thought he grabbed her with ease sitting her in his lap, the soft skin of her waist meeting the soft skin of his arms as he pulled her into his chest. (Y/n) felt her breath hitch slightly, as her own set of goosebumps started to form.

“Is that better?” Neville whispered softly to her as his chin came to rest on her shoulder. She turned her head slightly, her lips slightly brushing against his freckled cheek due to their close proximity. Instead of responding, she simply nodded still in a state of shock. Was this really happening? Her (e/c) eyes came to meet Ginny’s who simply smirked, sending her a wink before she went back to her conversation with Harry. None of her friends seemed that shocked at the position they were in. (Y/n) found herself a mix between relieved and offended that no one was surprised.

Although (Y/n) hadn’t noticed anything, the clenched fist and furrowed brows of his own friends did not go unnoticed. He felt himself smile internally, Neville 1 and the others 0. He caressed her skin lightly as if she was made of the finest of porcelain that would break from even a bit of pressure. The Gryffindor boy felt a surge of confidence within himself as goosebumps formed under his fingertips. He was knocked from his thoughts as a ripe strawberry was pressed against his lips, turning his attention to the (h/c) haired girl. He slowly took a bite from it, pink lips wrapped around the red fruit. He hummed constantly as he pulled away. (Y/n) moved back slightly to look at him, giggling at his red stained lips as the juice rolled down his chin a bit.

“Hey, you’ve got a bit of..” she trailed off giggling more as she motioned towards the juice. “One second, I’ll get it for you.” she murmured, reaching for a napkin. Neville pulled her back causing her to give him a confused look.

“No need.” he whispered, pulling her forward, pressing his lips against hers. The kiss was a mix of everything at once. Passion. Hesitance. Desire. And oh, he couldn’t forget his little friend: temptation. He pulled her closer, settling his large hands at the base of her spine right about her rear as hers wrapped around his neck. The girl’s fingers twirled the hair at the bottom of his head trying to distract her from the tingling sensation she felt all over. Neville nibbled at her lip a bit, biting it as he pulled away. “T-this is probably the wrong time to ask but, are you seeing anyone?”

-------------------------

The next week, Neville found himself in that same spot in the hallway that he was in the previous monday. His thoughts drift to the angel known as his vice, his temptation. He watched as her smooth legs made their way down the hall, smile on her face as per usual. However, this time he didn’t have to crave to be the one those eyes were lighting up at. He didn’t have to crave to be the one that oh so beautiful smile was caused by, because he was. He held his arms open with a smile, stumbling back a bit as the (y/h/h) jumped in his arms. He caught her, twirling her around as they both laughed before he placed her on the ground grabbing her hand. Neville placed a peck upon her cheek, nothing but adoration in his eyes. He gulped slightly, sweaty palms as they walked by McGonagall but he found himself relaxing when she sent a wink his way as she gave him a smile of approval.

Although temptation had originally showed itself on his doorstep as a visitor in his home, it eventually developed into something more and became a welcome resident in his home. Temptation was no longer temptation, it was love.

#Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #neville x you #neville longbottom x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #neville longbottom x you #neville x y/n

199 notes · View notes

palbabor-writes · 4 years

Note

OK so please consider typical Shig/reader where theres unspoken mutual attraction and they're not quite together but it's Post-kamino Shig, like IMMEDIATE post-kamino where he's still processing and incredibly vulnerable from just losing his sensei. I've had this in my head for a while but IDK how it would go and I think you'd do it justice (just ignore this if u don't wanna i just needed to put it out there 😌)

ugh, i loved this idea. where do you find them lydia? they just live in your mind rent free and i want to go to there. gosh, thank you for the ask.

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, SMUT, NSFW/18+ only, mild angst, pivotal life moments, TW: drinking/drug use, masturbation, blow jobs, face fucking, spanking/mild pain play, vaginal fingering, cunniliginus, overstimulation, switching, dirty talk, loss of virginity (if you squint), dominance, vaginal sex

Word Count: 11,800

Notes: oh man. so, if the word count didn’t give it away, this is plot, with a hefty dose of porn. in my mind, this is all part of the grieving process for shigaraki and he’s having a rough time coming to terms with what he’s needing to do. yeah, AFO supported him and enabled him to build a following, but he also hid all of the major pieces from him (i.e. the doctor & gigantomachia) so i can see him mourning for AFO as a teacher & as a psudo loved one, after all, at the end of that chapter he’s clutching those hands to him like he’ll fall apart without them.

Edited by the lovely Lydia: @kugutsuu. she is the best and if you’re not reading her works, all I have to say is: YOU SHOULD BE.

Mise en Place

/mē-ˌzäⁿ-ˈpläs/ noun or verb a French culinary phrase which means "putting in place" or "everything in its place.”

This has got to be the strangest, hole in the wall, bar you’ve ever worked at.

The patrons are touchy and most seem downright dangerous. The whole lot of them are more like mid level criminals than the usual haggard, overworked, regular, citizens you find in local watering holes. Meanwhile, the gentleman who runs the day to day operations shares more similarities with a will o’ the wisp than a man, and the bar itself is smack dab in one of the seediest parts of town.

The liquor selection, however, is top of the line. Some of the labels you haven’t seen outside of posh hotels or high class country clubs, and many of the older bottles are rarities. Honestly, there are so many of the high brow bottles that you’re not sure who to ask about the rail selection. There’s no real order to the place and it’s the most free reign you’ve ever been given with your mixology experiments. There’s not even a listing of drinks to go off of. But, if the disgruntled evening crowd is happy, then so is the upper management. All they ask is that you lock up before you leave.

No, nothing about this place makes sense. But, it does pay well and, right now, that’s the only thing you need to worry about.

There’s one other barkeep, a stogy man named Akio. He usually works the day shift, but late yesterday afternoon, he’d given you a call and asked if the two of you could swap for the duration of next week. At first, you’d balked, worried you’d need to schmooze with an unfamiliar bunch of regulars, who’d then decline to tip simply because you were new. But, Akio had sweetened the pot with the promise of $20,000 yen, so, you’d agreed.

“It’s fairly quiet in the afternoon,” Akio reassured you. “It’s really just putting away shipment and serving the odd customer who happens to pass by. The only thing...well, I’m sure you’ve met him. You’ve been working there for over a month, no way you could miss him.”

“Who?” you ask, twirling your spoon in your mid-morning coffee, curious, but not wanting to seem overly eager in your questioning. You like your night shift and you’re not wanting this to become a regular swap. You detest having to lug heavy boxes to and fro, pulling liquor and checking lot numbers, ick. Plus, if it really is that slow in the afternoons, it would only be a matter of time before Kurogiri would come after you with a duster and ask you to clean the upper shelves. Yeah, no, thanks. This would be a one week deal, ONLY.

“His name is Shigaraki. He’s, er, different. I suppose you’ll meet him soon, if you haven’t already.”

“Shigaraki? No, that name doesn’t ring a bell. Is he--”

“I have to go, my son is here. Thanks again for the swap and talk soon, (Y/N).”

The line clicks and you let your phone fall from your ear, clattering the metal and plastic along your kitchen table. Shigaraki, you think, taking a scalding sip of your coffee, no, that’s not a name you’ve heard before. Wonder what it is about him that has Akio so on edge. It’s not like him to give you, er, whatever that strange heads-up had been. Either way, it would take more than a vague descriptor like different, to spook you off.

******

Akio was right, on all counts, about the haze of monotony that permeated the afternoon shift at the bar.

Well, right on everything except a sighting of that elusive Shigaraki guy. No, the whole afternoon it’s just been you, Kurogiri, and one, rather sloshed old man, who you’ve long since cut off, and propped at the far end of the bartop. It’s been a dull, slow, day. Thank God you’d taken that extra cash from Akio, or this might not even turn out to be worth your while.

You’re slipping another bottle of whiskey on the lower shelf when you hear a barstool scrape back. You turn at the sound, your head already lifted and a small, friendly, smile lingering on your lips. There’s a lanky guy, dressed all in black with a mop of wavy white hair, working himself onto the small seat. His head is lowered and he hasn’t bothered to look up at you, not yet, anyway. He looks, not really young, but you can’t tell and you’re not about to let some underaged kid worm his way in here. You’ve had enough of those punks sneaking in in the evening, thank you.

“Gimme a shot of scotch,” the man says, his voice low, with a quiet rasp racing along the tone. It’s a strange timbre and it makes you pause, your eyes scanning those pearlescent strands of hair that are hiding his face from view.

“Hmph,” you snort, arching a brow at his attempts at concealment. He must be underage, who comes up to a barkeep with a ducked head and demands a scotch?

“Let me give you a piece of advice, don’t come into a bar and immediately refuse to make eye contact with the bartender. We’re like animals at the zoo, we startle easily and don’t like surprises. And, with your face tucked like that, I can’t gauge your age. So, before I get you that unnamed and unbranded scotch, I’m gonna to need to see some ID.”

The man lifts his head at your preamble and you feel your breath catch at the raw annoyance that’s etched across his scarred and cracked face. His eyes are a rich red, closer to ruby and they latch onto yours, insistent and sharp. It’s a deeply intense stare and you can’t seem to pull yourself away, your brow furrowing at his sudden shift in demeanor.

“I don’t have an ID,” he snaps, his lips lifting into a snarl, showing you the vivid whiteness of his teeth.

You lick your lips and his gaze follows the motion, eyes lowering, freeing you from that uneasy imprisonment he’d abruptly ensnared you in.

Your heart is beating rapidly against your throat and you shake your head, refocusing your bewildering reaction to this guy's presence. “I-I haven’t heard that one before,” you say, taking a few steadying breaths and tossing a dirty glass in the dishwasher, looking for any task that will let you step away from this strange interaction.

“You must be new,” he says, leaning back and hunching those dark shoulders. You watch him out of the corner of your eye and shut the dishwasher door, hitting the button to run a cycle.

“Nope,” you correct him, pulling out two fresh glasses and lining them up on the bartop, reaching for the rail scotch. “I’ve worked here for over a month.”

“Never seen you before.”

“That makes two of us,” you reply, flipping the bottle up and filling both glasses with four counts of the dark liquor. You press one to him and lift the other for yourself. The man narrows his eyes at you and looks pointedly at the glass in your hands.

“You supposed to drink on the clock?”

You laugh and he shifts back at the sound, his head bowing forward, another scowl lifting his lips. Realizing you must have made him uncomfortable, you step toward him and clumsily clink your glass against his, tilting your head at the surrealness of this whole conversation. “They don’t really care what I do. Come on, stranger who has no ID, bottoms up.”

He looks from you to the shot a few times before finally relenting and taking the vessel in a strange four fingered grip, his middle finger arched carefully away. Once you’re sure he’s actually going to toast with you, you sling your shot back, enjoying the sharp burn of the rich liquor.

You’re about to ask your new drinking companion another question when you hear his chair scrape back. By the time you’re stepping toward him, he’s already pacing down a back hallway, blending into the darkness and disappearing from your sight.

“Um! You can’t...I don’t think you can go back there. And you gotta pay, dude! Hey--”

“He doesn’t need to pay.”

You always hear Kurogiri before you see him and today is no exception. He’s standing at the entrance to the back of the bartop and he’s watching the path the strange young man took, his shifting face turned from you. You cock your head at his assertion and swiftly place your empty glass into the soapy water of the filled sink. He likely saw you take the shot, but you’re not about to leave evidence behind.

“What do you mean?” You ask, watching as the wisp like man turns and steps toward you, his amber slits watchful. It’s like he’s sizing you up and you shift on your feet, uncomfortable at the frank, open, assessment.

“He’s Tomura Shigaraki, and he owns this bar.”

******

You’re off for the next two days and the wait, the silence, is abjectly harrowing. You can’t sit down, can’t relax, can’t focus. The one time you decide to get overly familiar, of fucking course, it would be with the owner. But no one has called, and no one has sent you any messages. The empty static of your job's reticence doesn’t alleviate your nerves.

Who knows, they might want to act out the sick power play of having you show up for your shift, only be fired as soon as you darken the doorway.

The next afternoon, you take a familiar route to the bar, your feet tapping hollowly along the steps and alleyways that wind to the rusty entrance. You come in the front, blinking against the darkness, and lock the door behind you. Everything is quiet. But, in forty minutes, the open sign will switch on and you need to get your bar set up, plus slap on a little bit of makeup. You’re so lost in thought that you’re almost to the long bartop when you spot him.

It’s Tomura Shigaraki. He’s sitting at the same bar stool and his head turns as you approach, those unearthly red eyes lingering over you. It’s a different look, very, very removed from that harsh glare he’d given you the other day. He looks less hostile and more, well, curious.

You give him a cursory nod and pad behind the high counter, taking the final glasses out of the dishwasher and removing the stoppers from all the open liquor bottles. He’s still watching you and you can feel his gaze as it bores into your back, your side, your front. You attempt to ignore him, but the constant threat of those insistent red eyes is beginning to frustrate you. Finally, once you’ve replaced the cash drawer, you lift your gaze to his.

“What is it?” Your voice sounds waspish, but you don’t care.

“Nothing,” he replies, leaning forward and propping his chin on his palm, not breaking that unsettling leer.

“So stop staring at me,” you bristle, unsure why your heart is starting to beat a rapid tattoo against your ribs. You don’t know this guy. Sure, he’s mysterious and almost handsome, in a dark horse kinda way, but there’s no reason for him to give you this odd staredown. You’ve done absolutely nothing to warrant this attention, well, besides drinking on the job, but he could just fire you for that, if it was so troublesome. Either way, he should either speak up, or knock it off.

He smirks at your impudence and murmurs a raspy, “No,” back, his head tilting, waiting for your next move.

“You’re a real charmer, you know that?” You scoff, crossing your arms and jutting your chin defiantly.

“Whatever you say,” he breathes, that smile of his deepening, making his vermillion eyes shine. And, just like that, the two of you wander into a stilted game of give and take.

For the first few days, he makes sure he’s there before you arrive for the last of your afternoon shifts, his dark back already perched over the bartop as you shut the door behind you. Then, when you transition back to the evening shifts, he’s there too, sitting at that familiar perch, his eyes always, always watching, observing. You continue to ignore him and he seems to relish your agitated silence, flashing you dark smirks and quiet laughs.

Finally, two weeks into this stagnated stalemate, you make a point to strike up a real conversation with him. He’s obviously taken aback by your first few questions, his eyes wide and jaw tense, but he plays along.

Over time, the two of you carefully erect a haphazard friendship. And that chair of his? That center barstool? He used to not mind if another person was sitting in it when he arrived late, but recently that’s all changed. Now he guards it ferociously. Snapping and glaring at anyone who is stupid enough to drift into it.

Along with the lingering looks and burgeoning, almost flirty, dialogue you’ve pushed him into, he’s also gotten very demanding of your attention. If you spend too much time talking with another customer, or with Kurogiri, he pouts and darkens until you return, his tense form losing that sharpness. It's almost like he’s got a crush on you, but he’s not sure what to do with the newfound sensation, lost and confounded by your teases and grins.

Most people, you notice, give him a wide berth, but not you. No, you like his keen wit and heated musings. He’s fascinating and you want to see more. And in his flustered confusion, he lets you lean in, blinking and wide eyed at your open, flagrant interest in him.

******

As the weeks drift into summer, things start to change at the bar.

There’s some atypical deposit of power that’s been bestowed upon the place. People you’ve never seen before, begin to frequent the premises, sharing videos and whispered conversations about that man, Chizome Akaguro, better known to the general public as the Hero Killer.

Tomura flits between several, dark moods, clutching his newly injured shoulder and murmuring complaints about hero society, All Might and the Hero Killer. Apparently, there had been an altercation between the two of them and Tomura didn’t hide his ire, his agitation from you. No, he would vent to you, his voice gravel and ash as he snarled his rage.

Then, as if things couldn’t get any stranger, one evening a young girl begins to hang around, pestering you for a soda and prattling on and on about blood. Another new guy slips in a few hours later, his skin marred by thick, ragged burns and staples. He’s quiet, rudely demanding a shot and nursing it in a corner, his bright blue eyes flashing as he stares vacantly out at the crowd by the well.

A quiet man, called Spinner, asks you for a water, and you acquiesce, watching as his green hands wrap around the glass, downing the liquid in a quick gulp. Later, there’s a robust, loud, clearly confused guy, wearing a skin tight black bodysuit loitering by your bartop. He keeps entreating you for a drink, then tells you to buzz off seconds later. Exasperated, you plunk a whole bottle down beside his glass and continue on with your work, ignoring his chatter.

Finally, a man in a white mask and a top hat rounds out the strange posse and the group gathers together, hovering around Tomura, asking questions and listening to his rasping answers.

Thankfully, the rag-tag group leaves soon after closing, all of them shouldering their way back out into the night. You shake your head as the door closes behind them, gathering the collection of dirty glasses they left in their wake. Only Tomura remains, sipping meditatively on his drink, his red eyes foggy and unfocused. You know from experience that it’s not a good time to ask him questions, so you continue with your closing duties, keeping your eyes down.

Something is going on, that much is clear. But, unless you could worm the information out of Tomura, you’d likely never fully know all of the details. Part of you warns that it’s likely dangerous. Many of the people who haunt the bar are low level villains or brokers, not a winning combination if you’re wanting to stay out of the fray, and on the right side of the law.

You finish wiping everything down and return to Tomura, asking him softly if you can wash his empty glass. His eyes lift to yours and the expression that greets you almost makes you want to reach out and cup his cheek. He looks tired, worn thin and so, so needy. You’ve never seen him like this. It almost feels like he’s showing you something he’s never revealed to anyone else, a vulnerability that only you can see. He’s giving you access to a quiet secret that can hang between the two of you, safe in the knowledge that he can trust you with it. That urge to stroke a finger down his roughed brow rises again, but you shove the impulse away, rattled by your sudden, visceral, reaction to him.

To distract yourself, you snatch up his glass, and turn from the intensity of his stare, a slow prickle of gooseflesh trembling along your skin. As you run hot water and soap over the vessel, you feel your heart begin to pound and you chance another peek at Tomura’s quiet form. As usual, he’s watching you, but he looks unfocused again, that broken vulnerability tucked away. You want to ask him if he’s ok, but before you can croak the words out, he pushes his stool back and paces down the dark hallway, leaving you alone and bewildered.

******

A few days later, you ask Kurogiri if you can sneak away for a minute, you need a break. The bar has been packed since nine and you could use a quick breather. It’s the first night Tomura hasn’t stopped by and his absence has bothered you. You missed his grumpy quips and his persistent glances. All this time, you’d thought it was just him that was catching any kind of feelings, but it looks like he’s somehow managed to nag his way into your psyche, too.

You take the back stairs quietly and let yourself out onto the alleyway balcony, climbing the rickety fire escape to the rooftop. You’d found the access to the roof your second week and it’s still your favorite place in the whole bar. On a clear night, you can see all the way to downtown Tokyo. It’s always quiet this high up, tranquil and serene. You brace yourself against the concrete wall and watch the lights of the city glimmer, like distant jewels, in the darkness.

You pull a small joint from your pant pocket and flick your lighter on, setting the edge of the rolling paper alight and taking a slow drag. The inhale fills your lungs with a light pressure and you savor the feeling before blowing a thin line of smoke into the night. You get a few more hits in before you hear the fire escape stairs rattle, signaling that someone is coming your way. You debate dampening your roach, but you don’t want to waste it, so you tuck the smoldering paper in your other hand, maneuvering it out of sight.

The white shine of his hair always gives him away.

Tomura hops over the ledge and his eyes are already lifting, searching for yours as he stands. You arch an eyebrow at his tense stance and you can’t help your giddy smile. “Everything ok?”

“Kurogiri said you were taking a break,” he replies, dipping his long fingers into his pockets and sauntering over to the patch of concrete you’re braced against.

“Yeah,” you confirm, waiting until he’s closer to lift the joint back to your lips, taking a steadying pull and scooting over, so he can fit beside you on the wall. “It’s busy, and I’ve been slinging drinks all night. Just wanted to decompress for a bit.”

Tomura doesn’t reply, but he does slot himself close, the warmth of his broad shoulder radiating against yours. The two of you drift into a companionable silence, and the only sounds that greet you is the quiet hush of traffic below and your inhales and exhales of smoke.

“You got another meeting?” you ask, crossing your arms and pressing minutely closer, enjoying the distant shiver Tomura gifts you.

“No,” he murmurs, his voice low. You think that might be the end of the conversation but he continues a few seconds later, his head tilting toward yours, those red eyes scanning your upturned face. “They’re on a mission. I’m not able to participate. It will need to be like a SIM game. They are the pieces that I’ll move over the board, they’ll act to my battle plan.”

You turn to him, your eyes wide. “So, they’re just...pawns? Little NPC’s that don’t matter?”

Tomura laughs and his teeth gleam in the moonlight and distant shine of the neon lights. “Of course not. Do I look that heartless? No, they’re valuable players and if this goes right, we’ll be able to take on the next level with a decided edge.”

You let that last comment hover, pausing to take another huff, your eyes lowered, brooding over his words. “So, you’re their vanguard leader?”

“Sure,” Tomura nods, “We can’t keep grinding each mission, hoping to pick up any XP these heroes happen to drop. We need to make waves of our own.”

“Oh? Like the Hero Killer?”

“No,” Tomura snarls, his arm tensing beside yours, a hand rising to scritch at his scarred neck agitatedly. “Nothing like him. We’re looking past him. He was too short sighted, so busy following his own code of justice that he didn’t notice he was breeding more heroes, not putting them down.”

“Hmm,” you sigh, thumping your head lightly against the concrete behind you. “That is true. But, you can’t deny he’s brought up some serious divisions. It’s funny, really. It makes me think of this little hero toy I had when I was younger.

It was of an older hero, he prolly died long ago, but I loved that toy when I was a kid. Then, as I got older, it stopped mattering and one day, without me even realizing it, it lost its importance entirely. I wonder if hero society will ever shift to that. With the fractures that have been seen at UA and all over Japan, it could be a matter of time before real change starts to happen. Anyway, I wasn’t meaning to grill you on your, uh, projects. I was--”

“What toy?”

His question nonpluses you and you cock your head, blinking up at his peripheral stare. “Um, I think it was of that fast hero, O’clock. It was my older brothers originally, but he passed it down to me. No idea where it is now. It likely got lost in a move or accidentally left behind.”

Tomura lifts his eyes from yours, his jaw clenching and a slow gulp echoing down his lean throat. You watch the bob of his Adam’s apple, fascinated by the movement. That urge to touch him is back and you have to clench your fingers into your palms to quiet it.

You’re so distracted by your primal reaction to him, that you miss his question and he has to repeat it, his eyes slipping back to yours, the red dark.

“What?” you ask, blinking against the acuteness of his gaze.

“Can I take a hit of that?”

“Of what...oh.” You lift the half smoked joint and chuckle at yourself, pressing the smoldering paper toward him. “Sure. You had one before?”

“Does it matter?” He scoffs, carefully taking the white roach from you and raising it to his chapped lips.

“Go slow,” you warn as he begins to inhale, his eyes drifting to a half mast, concentrating.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he grumbles, pulling a tentative, but heavy, drag into his lungs.

“Fine,” you scoff playfully, “do what you want. But don’t blame me when you’re coughing up a lung.”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t heed your advice and, seconds later, he’s clutching at his throat, dropping the joint onto the broken gravel and concrete as he heaves. Instinctively, you thump him on his back and run your palm soothingly over his lean shoulder blades, surprised by the corded muscle that greets you. For a relatively thin guy, he’s certainly packing some strength under that unassuming form of his.

Tomura startles at your touch and he yanks himself away from you, his head ducked, eyes fastening onto yours, the irises accusatory and bright, burning with some underlying emotion that you’re too nervous to name right now.

“Uh,” you begin, aghast that you’ve upset him, “m-my bad…”

But, he’s already leaving, his head firmly turned from you, clambering over the edge and back onto the fire escape, leaving you alone in the darkness.

******

After that night, you can’t slip him out of your mind. Even when you sleep, you can see those red eyes of his, gleaming and hungry. One evening, you’d even woken with your fingers firmly pressed to your throbbing clit, stumbling and gasping, shaking free of a dream of him. He’d felt so real, so in focus and you can’t catch your breath, fingers still rubbing a tight circle over your quivering bundle of nerves. You pant as you break yourself, sukling in the whites and reds that haze over your vision. Yeah, that crush of his definitely isn’t a one sided thing.

The next shift you work, he’s waiting for you, perched in his familiar seat, his shoulders curved and tight. You give him a glance, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. His hands are lowered, fiddling with something under the bartop. You begin to open your bar, trying to quiet your wandering thoughts, not wanting to perturb him again. You’re uncorking a red wine when he presses something across the mahogany wood of the bar, toward you.

It’s small, with dark colors and a tiny, familiar, upper half mask. You let the bottle of wine thud against the counter, abandoning the half opened bottle to move closer. It’s...it’s your-- No. It can’t be yours, but it is the same toy, the one you’d mentioned on the roof the other night. How did he?

You gulp and look up at him, your heart pulsing wildly against your ribs. For the first time, he looks away from you first, his white hair pillowing across his brow. His lips start to rise in an all too habitual scowl and his raspy voice lifts to your ears. “If you don’t want it,” he grouses, one hand pulling away from the offered toy, clearly flustered by your wondering gaze. Without thinking, you slip your fingertips over the top of his hand, prolonging the touch, sulking in the warmth of him.

His fingers curl, some unconscious tremor racing along his digits. He almost yanks himself away, but then he stops, sighing as his eyes lift to yours. For a long moment, the two of you watch the other. You can hear his breathing speed up and you can almost smell the shift in the air. All it would take is one, tiny push to break that delicious tension.

Tomura’s nostrils flare as you start to lean closer, your body curving toward his, fingers still pressing into his skin. Your tongue dips out, wetting your lower lip and pulling it into your mouth, sucking on the plush flesh. His eyelids have lowered and he’s mirroring your motions, his elbows assisting his lift, his face upturning, seeking, reaching.

With a bang, the front door is flung open and it breaks the spell that’s fallen over the two of you. Tomura leans away first, his eyes narrowed in agitation, sliding from your open face to the darkness of the entryway. You exhale a shaking breath and follow Tomura’s gaze. It’s that masked man, the one with the top hat and he’s already striding confidently forward, peppering Tomura with a series of questions.

Snagging up his gift to you, you walk back to your bottle of wine.

******

You don’t have a chance to see Tomura again until he tells you, one evening, that the bar is going to be closed for the next few days. Then, over his shoulder, you spot the blonde boy, strapped and bound into a stiff chair and you blanch, stunned, too overwrought to give him more than a one word acknowledgement before stumbling back outside. In all of your talks, he’d never mentioned anything like this. That boy looked like a kid, barely past middle school, his eyes wild and defiant, but also so, so frightened.

No, you think, pacing your apartment, it’s impossible to come to terms with this. You can’t stay there, can’t work there. It’s too dangerous, too close to a real criminal den for comfort. You have to look out for yourself, no matter your feelings for the man who’s wandering down some long, lost pathway, toward a future you can’t even comprehend, let alone see.

So, you hand in your written resignation.

Kurogiri is behind the bar when you bring it in, and you’re hoping that the early morning conversation will spare you from having to see him. The wispy, purple hand of Kurogiri is just about to take your letter when Tomura barges down the hallway. His eyes immediately land on you and he steps forward, a dark look passing over his palled features.

“Why?” he growls, fingers snatching the paper from Kurogiri and crumbling the parchment to bits, his quirk rendering your typed words to nothingness.

“I don’t want to be a part of any kidnapping. It…” you pause, looking toward Kurogiri and, to your surprise, he nods to Tomura and moves away, leaving the two of you alone in the vacant bar. Tomura is still glaring at you, but he’s waiting for you to finish your thought, his jaw grinding quietly.

“This doesn’t feel like you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tomura scoffs, his chin jutting at the assertion.

“This doesn’t change society. This is just some petty attempt to get back at the UA staff. It’s like...It’s like you’re asking for trouble to seek you out. You’re smarter than this. Besides, what are you going to do with him?” you smart, crossing your arms and balling your fingers into your fists.

“What do you know about anything? That kid’s been oppressed by hero society, literally muzzled and bound--”

“As if you’re doing any better! He’s still muzzled and bound, Tomura! He’s just in a different location. This is insanity. Who put you up to doing--”

“That doesn’t matter. This conversation has nothing to do with that. You can’t leave,” Tomura snaps, his head lowering, soft white hair falling over his face. “Give it a few more days.”

“What? I can’t stay if the bar is raided and it’s prolly gonna be if you keep that kid. Besides, that’s not--”

“Just...just give me a few more days. I don’t want to beg you, I shouldn’t fucking need to beg you. It’s not an impossible request (Y/N). Just--”

“Fine,” you sigh, uncrossing your arms and watching him. He looks on edge, haggard and angry. Those emotions aren’t projected at you, you know that. Nevertheless, it doesn’t lessen the danger he’s asking you to stand with him in. But, you can give him a few days and you tell him so, trying to ignore the pattering of your heart when he looks at you and smiles.

******

Then, Kamino happens.

You weren’t there, thank God. But he was, and now, no matter what he’d asked of you, no matter what he’d hoped for, everything shifts apart. Days linger into weeks and you’re trying your best to reason that he’d made it out in one piece. Surely, you would have heard something. The capture of the leader of the League of Villains would have been a morsel that the media would have wanted to crow about, especially after the loss of All Might.

Late one evening, your phone rings.

It’s an unknown, blacked out number, but something tells you to answer, so you pick it up. You almost gasp when you hear that familiar rasp and you listen to what he tells you. You can’t get over how brittle and cracked his voice sounds but you write down the address he gives you. He cloaks his true motivations with a lie. Apparently, he has your last paycheck. Like that even matters to you. Honestly, you’re just glad he’s safe and whole. But, he’s gone to all this effort to build a bridge back to him, so of course you’re going to go.

You check and double check the directions, carefully maneuvering and weaving through bus stops and back streets. Somehow, you make it and find yourself pressing open a dilapidated door and stepping into a small room. Only darkness greets you, even though the bright midday sun is shining outside. The place he’s brought you to is on a dock, on the outskirts of town, close to the salty edge of a bay. You can hear the mournful cries of a seagull as you close the door behind you, sealing yourself inside and blinking into the gloom.

It takes you a minute to catch sight of him.

He’s lingering along the edges but you can make out the glow of his eyes, red and fierce. He looks different. It’s only been a few weeks, but it looks like the weight of years has crushed him under its unfeeling grind in that short amount of time. No, Kamino has changed him, rendering him unhinged and dangerous, drifting along the peripheral of your vision. Still, you haven’t come here to witness him falling to bits at your feet. No, you’d come here with another, darker motive.

Now, to work.

“What happened?” you ask, keeping your back firmly against the door. Watching him move closer, those red shoes of his glinting over the dark wooden floors.

“Sensei is...gone,” he replies, his voice hollow and faint. He’s mentioned his Sensei before and you’d heard the man’s strange voice echoing from that back television, like some distant, terrifying specter. But, you knew he was important to Tomura, more like a father than a teacher. However, you’d seen the news. You knew he was beaten to a pulp and captured, locked away and out of Tomura’s reach. Now, he can’t ask his Sensei for advice or support, not anymore. Even knowing what little you’ve gleaned about the strange man, Tomura must be devastated by his loss.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, genuine in your sympathy.

Tomura nods and fishes for something in the pocket of his trench coat, lifting a thin slip of paper out and showing it to you. “Here,” he sighs, still not meeting your eyes directly.

“Oh,” you say, moving away from the door and taking a few steps toward him. “You really did ask me here for the check, huh?”

“What else did you want?” he grumbles, his voice regaining a small slice of that familiar rasping. The question lingers and you feel your pulse speed up, your palms itching at your sides. “Or, did you want to scold me again?” Tomura continues disgruntled, and you can see a grimace pass over his face.

“You deserved it,” you confirm, taking another step, only wavering when you’re a few feet from him. “You wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn't kidnapped that UA student. Now, the kid, and your Sensei are gone and you’re stuck here. Wherever here is”

“Look at you, quite the oracle aren’t you? So, you did come here to berate me.” Tomura snaps, dropping your pay stub to the dusty floor.

“No,” you shake your head, not wanting this to spiral out of your control, not wanting him to simply shut you out, alone on that pier, left with all of your what ifs. “No, I didn’t come here to do that. I-I...it’s just that...well...that wasn’t you. That whole plan...it still doesn’t make sense”

“How the fuck would you know what is, or isn’t, me? You said that that morning, too. I didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now,” Tomura bristles, closing the distance and bowing up to you. You can feel the sheer heat of him radiating against your shirt and you shiver at the sensation. If you lift your hand you could touch him, you think distantly. He’s so close...He’s so...

You gulp, trying to quell your rising emotions. “I guess, I don’t know then.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Fine,” you say, biting your lip.

“Fine,” he repeats, no doubt thinking that will be the end of it, but you’re not finished.

“You’re better than this you know,” you tell him, eyes searching for his, not relenting your glare until he finally meets you halfway, his red eyes flashing.

“Better than what? Better than you? A half baked woman, slumming her way from mid range bar, to mid range bar. Hoping you’ll catch the eye of the right person, someone who can pluck you from all the muck and grime that you lift that pretty little nose of yours at.”

“What?” you breathe, a snarl of your own etching across your face.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing. Fucking leading me on like that--”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You thought I’d be your ticket out, or you could wager me later for a better piece, something stronger, someone that could do something for you.” Tomura is seething, his chest bumping against yours, the red of his eyes burning as he glowers at you.

“Tomura- I don’t know what you’re talk--”

“Stop saying that. You stupid, or something? And stop saying my name like that. Like it fucking matters. You could have had anything, you know? But...but you took it all for granted. You had the world...and then it...it’s...it’s just gone.”

He’s not talking about you anymore. Even though he’s growling and spitting rage at you, he’s not talking about you. “Shigaraki,” you begin, trying to see some way to reason with him. To bring him back to you.

“Don’t call me that,” he groans, his head dipping, almost resting against your shoulder. “I haven’t earned...that’s not me.”

“Alright. What am I supposed to call you?” you whisper, overwhelmed and trying to resist that urge to pull him into your arms. You’ve never seen him like this, and you don’t know, you don’t…

“There you go again, acting like you care.” Tomura scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I do care, you ass,” you bite, turning your head toward him and letting your voice fall beside his ear. He snarls at the assertion and presses impossibly closer, trying his best to put on a show of wavering strength, knowing you might still be bullied into backing down, into denying him. But it’s not working, no you’ve come this far and you don’t want to leave him, not like this.

“I care,” you repeat, still murmuring next to his cheek, so near you can hear, and feel, his ragged breaths, hot against your skin.

“About what?” he grunts, moving his head from you, determined to not let you win.

“About, well, you.”

“Liar,” he spits, but his voice wavers, showing you a tiny, tiny sliver of hope.

“Am not,” you counter and watch as he leans back, those vermillion eyes searching for yours. One of his hands lifts and he ghosts the digits over the top of your shoulder, watching as you shift toward the distant touch, pulled to him, like a magnet.

“Such a liar,” he posits, fingers hovering beside your neck, twitching with want.

“No, I’m not,” you gasp, your voice so faint, you’re worried he might not hear it. But he does and he dips his head toward you, inches from your face, lips already parted and waiting.

“Prove it,” he challenges, his voice deepening, losing that sharpened edge at long last.

So, you shove him.

You’re not sure why that’s your first, instinctive reaction, but it’s too late to question your motives and it sparks a crazed response from the man in front of you, snapping him out of his head and refocusing him.

He fumbles backwards, caught off guard, his red shoes catching as he lumbers, trying to not fall. His eyes flash at you and he instantly rights himself, moving back to you. Through it all, you can hear yourself saying something. It sounds like it might have been another taunt, but you can’t focus, not when he’s pressing himself against you, his fingers finally, finally touching you.

Tomura can’t seem to settle now that he’s gotten ahold of you, his fingers tracing over your neck, your shoulders, your face, your sides. He’s panting and gasping, his fevered exhales fanning over your prickling skin.

“Get off me,” you moan, batting at his wandering hands.

“No,” he sighs, cupping your jaw and dragging you to his shaking lips. His kiss is clumsy, almost childlike. He lifts and leans, pressing halting smacks against you, grunting when you twist from him, fighting his hold.

“You don’t deserve it,” you tell him, wanting to lance that boil that’s festering in his mind, knowing he needs the pain before he can handle the sweetness of the pleasure. The last thing he needs is love. No, not right now. Hopefully, there will be time for that later. But for now, he needs something raw and shattered, something that will let him see that it’s not impossible to pick up the pieces, that he can be whole again, he just needs to try.

He drags his rough lips over yours and you lower your fingers into his snowy hair, pulling him closer, demanding that he give you more. He gasps at the sudden shift and you slip your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his and yanking stammering moans from him. Your lips are slick now and you use the extra lubrication to slip down his neck, leaving him trembling above you.

You dip into each and every scar, laving over all those old hurts until he’s snarling. You leave a bruising bite against his pulse and he snatches your face between his palms, dragging you back to his lips.

“Stop squirming,” he complains, his forehead bumping against yours, trying to keep up with your rapid fire laps and sucks.

“No,” you laugh, fingers lacing into the lapels of his trench coat and using the leverage to drag your breasts over his hardened pectorals. He grunts at the sensation, one arm wrapping around your lower back, pinning you to him. When he finally manages to work his way free of your frantic presses, he lowers his lips to your neck, mimicking the same path you’d taken with him, his teeth nipping and pulling until your humming, giving him a thin cry of encouragement that spurs him on.

Tomura drags a canine over your pulse and you shiver, folding into his crumpled embrace. He’s almost having to hold you upright and he growls when you slip from his arms, annoyed you’re making this so fucking difficult.

“I said, keep still,” he reminds you, heaving you back up, lean forearms bracing you to him. You smile and lace your arms around his neck, wanting his lips again. He allows the pull, loving the contrast of your plush skin against his. He’s a fast learner and this time, it’s his tongue taps and maneuvers for entrance, swallowing down your needy pants. His nose presses into your cheek and you cup at his jaw, stroking the warm skin until he slows his frantic pace, meeting you halfway, and lingering in your wet softness.

Then, just as he’s getting comfortable, you dig your teeth into his lower lip, pulling until you bleed out a little taste of copper. He snarls and shoves you away, lifting the side of his hand to his injured mouth.

“What was that for?” He snaps, tapping his fingers against the wound, watching as they come back red. “The fuck is wrong with…” His ire stutters to a halt when he catches sight of you.

You’ve already slipped your shirt over your head and now your fingers are twisting until you unclasp your bra, sliding the lace down your arms. The cool air makes your nipples tighten but you don’t attempt to cover yourself from him. Instead, you arch an eyebrow at his abashed expression and begin to unbutton your pants, your fingers teasingly lingering over the button and zipper, before lowering the denim down the curve of your hips.

You don’t even hear him approach. No, you’re too distracted by your little show to notice him until you feel those warm fingers tracing over the newly bared swells of your skin. You lift your head and your eyes catch his, smiling at the hazy hunger that’s blazing out at you. His touch is tentative and you roll your eyes openly at him, lifting your own hands over his, pressing him until he’s digging those four digits into your sumptuous flesh.

His thumb rubs over your pebbled nipple and you reward him with a low moan, your eyes slipping behind your heavy eyelids. He cups at your other breast and lifts the weight of you into his palm, openly marveling at the feel of you. Still, it’s not enough and if you’re going to get your point across, you need him to give you more than these lazy strokes.

“Take off your jacket,” you tell him, stepping away from him, quaking minutely in the loss of his warmth.

“What?” he asks, clearly too overwrought to hear you. So, you help him along. Your fingers snatch the shoulders of his trench and you yank it off him, tossing the fabric down to the gritty floors. Then, you shove at him again. He isn’t as taken aback this time and he rallies immediately, snatching at you and dragging you against him, making you gasp at the harsh sensation of his dark clothes against your bare front.

“What do you want?” you ask him, licking your tongue along the underside of his jaw, listening to his shuddering breaths. “What do you want to do to me, Tomura? Come on, I know you’ve got some idea. Fucking show me. Don’t let me boss you around, unless that’s what you’re wanting today to be about. I can take those reigns from you. I’m better at this after all. Less...flustered,” you pause, sucking and nipping at his neck, enjoying the indecisive flex of his fingers on your upper arms.

He allows you one more bite and then he’s tossing you down, not caring where you land. Thankfully, you sprawl over his discarded jacket, the fabric sparing you from the neglected wooden floor. You’re trying to regain your bearings when you hear his belt clatter to the floor. You look up at him, watching as he flings that dark shirt away, showing you the lean muscles that you’ve wondered about for so long. God, for someone so lanky, he looks fucking good.

Tomura smirks at your expression and swiftly yanks his pants and boxers away too, revealing something even more mouthwatering. Fuck, fuck, you think, an involuntary gasp leaving your lips. His cock is thick, pulsing and absolutely dripping with his precum. The tip is a lovely pink, curving toward that chiseled stomach of his and damn, you want to suck on it until he’s putty in your hands.

As if he can read your mind, Tomura steps closer, giving himself a few tugs as he peers down on you, imperious and almost perfectly in control. “You want it?” He asks, trying to hide that sudden shift in his voice, wanting to show you that he understands what you’re expecting from him. You nod and bite your lip, looking up at him from feathery eyelashes.

“Come here,” he requests, slowing those pulls and letting his precum slip from his fist to the floor, tempting you with those tiny droplets of arousal. Obediently, you rise to your knees, fingers tracing up his thighs, smiling at the light buckling he gives you, his calves twitching and shaking.

You tease your way to the apex of his hips and pause, lingering along that dip of his stomach. “Can I taste you?” you question coquettishly and you adore the moan that falls from his lips.

Taking that as a yes, you slowly lower your mouth to him, ghosting the tip of him over you. Rubbing him back and forth, painting that thick precum over your lips until they’re glistening. Tiring of this little game, his fingers dip into your hair and he grips you, hard. With one pull, he’s burying that velvet heat of his length past the ring of your lips and into the sweet cavern of your mouth. His cock swells and throbs as you lap ravenous at the hefty weight of him.

He’s salty and earthy and you let your tongue swirl over his slit, lapping into that leaking gap until he’s murmuring nonsense over you. He’s almost too big for you to take, so one of your hands lifts and wraps around his base, easing your sucks and ensuring that none of him is left out of this gift of mind numbing ecstasy you’re bestowing upon him.

There are several veins, racing along the side of his cock and you tickle along each of them, pressing until you can feel the beat of his heart, frantic and fluttering. Soon, he begins to silently ask you for more, rutting his hips against your face, scraping himself along the back of your throat. When you heave around him he lets out a loud, elongated moan and digs in again, lingering until you’re nearly choking.

You chance a peek up at him and are surprised to see him gazing right back, those red eyes of his clouded and muddled. His hand keeps an insistent pressure against the back of your head, demanding that you keep going. So, you pick up the pace, lapping and sucking, hollowing your cheeks until a thin line of your drool begins to trickle along your chin, dripping onto your knees.

“Can...can I…” he begins, fingers starting to tremble, his knees buckling. No, that’s not what you want from him. You shake free of his hand, letting him slip from your mouth, and he stammers and sputters at the loss, his eyes narrowed and dark, glaring at you with a raw frustration.

“No,” you tell him, keeping one hand on him, stroking him, maintaining that steady pressure until he’s grunting, his hips instinctively canting into the tantalizing motion. “No, you don’t ask me for anything. Yeah, I can finish you off, if you need me to take control, but it’s not going to be on your terms. If you’re wanting something Tomura, you better fucking take it. Stop asking me for permission. I’m not-- mmph--”

He rips your hand off of his dick and his fingers curl beside your ears, forcing your mouth back, and impaling you on his length, immediately gagging you on his heady thrusts. You inhale sharply, your breath catching, failing as he keeps railing into you. More saliva slides out of your lips and you falter, a weak whimper echoing around him.

“Mmm,” he growls, holding your face as he presses against the back of your throat loving the clenching and mewls you give him. “That feels fucking good, (Y/N). Taking all of my cock, ah- fucking choking on it. You’re so fucking greedy. Don’t worry, I’ll give you more. Let’s see, what would make this even better, oh, I know. Saw it in a porn once. Put your hands behind your back and don’t move them unless I tell you to.”

Immediately, you clasp your fingers together, letting them rest against your lower back. The suspension knocks you off kilter, but Tomura braces your head with his other hand, pinning you between his palms. His dick is still lancing in and out of your mouth, scraping against your tonsils, making you swallow and open, trying to push yourself past that oppressive gagging sensation.

“Ahhh, such a good girl, now spread your legs and lift up, just a little bit, yes- right there. Better keep those hands still,” he taunts, pulling his cock out until it hangs against your lower lip, glimmering with the sheen of your ministrations. Then, he dives back in, thrusting and grinding until his balls are papping against your soaking chin. Your legs tremble as you hold yourself up and you can feel your own arousal, slipping down your inner thighs, splattering onto that dark trench coat of his.

You’re heaving under him, grunting and slobbering trying to not fucking choke on the girth that’s being pistoned into you. He’s gasping praise at you, his white head thrown back, and his lower abdomen is rippling, letting you know he’s so, so close to spilling down your abused throat. He bows over you as he cums, spewing thick ropes of his release into you. You gulp at him, determined to let every last drop slither down your waiting throat, longing to savor everything that he’s giving you.

True to your promise, you keep your hands clasped and you nearly topple over when he tugs free of your lips. Tomura takes pity on your wilted form and lowers himself to his knees, wrapping one hand around you and tapping twice on your shaking digits, letting you know you can relax your grip. You fall forward, and he waits above you, watching you with a mounting fascination. Once you catch your breath, you look up at him, not caring that you’re still covered in a mix of tears, spit and his cum. He smirks at your dishevelment, pleased by your open display of your wanton lust for him.

“See? It’s not hard to take what you want, to do what you want,” you pant, still trying to gulp down a few more rough intakes of air.

Tomura sucks his teeth at your bravado, but you notice he’s having a little bit of trouble steading his own breathing and his hands are twitching as they reach for you. You hum when he cups at your dips and curves, lingering over spots that make you moan for him. As he plucks at one of your puckered nipples his eyes lift to yours and he leans close, pressing a wet line of kisses against your collarbone.

“Lay back,” he rumbles, still sucking at the hollow of your throat. You do as he says, propping yourself on your elbows, curious and waiting. He’s slowed down now that he’s slaked that first brush of pent up aggression, but he’s still got a little more to burn. You can see it, lingering behind his vermillion eyes, gleaming under the carnal intrigue.

His fingers, so dangerous and deadly, race down your sides, falling to the juncture of your legs and dipping into the slick that he finds. He parts your folds, bracing himself over you, his lips sucking bruises into your skin. The gossamer threads of your leaking cunt run down his fingers and onto his open palm and he groans into your neck, nuzzling his nose to your skin and inhaling, deeply.

“Does that feel good?” He asks, his voice scraping, like sandpaper, hoarse and undone along your heated cheek. Ok, you think, arching as he dips one digit into you, you can let him have that one question, especially when your mind is fogging over like this, unable to think of anything but that ache that’s pounding through your core. You roll your hips again, urging that finger to slip further and he hisses as you pull him in, your walls trembling at the intrusion.

“Fuck,” he grunts, lifting himself to look down at you, his eyes wide with an awed marvel. “You’re so…”

“Mmm, so what?” you ask, wanting him to keep talking to you, loving rasp of his tone as it tells you such sinful things.

“So soft and warm and...God...so wet,” he replies, adding another finger, watching as you whine for him, your lower lips parting and welcoming him. He pumps the digits, in and out, at a steady rate, waiting for each quiver and ripple, trying to feel his way along, wanting to please you.

“Can--” he stops himself, flushing as your eyes open and snap to his, a rough displeasure written over your face. He tears his gaze from yours and scowls, letting his fingers press a rougher rhythm into you, sucking his teeth at his unspoken inexperience.

“This feels good,” you reassure him, not wanting to completely leave him adrift, knowing that he does need a little piece of guidance, for this part, at least. “Why don’t you get a closer look?”

Tomura looks back to you and nods before sliding down your body, lowering himself until he’s face to face with his prize. His mouth drops and he licks at his chapped lips, painting a few, warm, exhales against your sensitive folds. You squirm at the sensation and he grins, leaning closer, his free hand spreading you for his inspection.

“Is this…” his voice trails off and you can feel him wandering his way to just the right spot. When he lifts the fleshy hood of your clit and thumbs the distended pearl you gasp and shiver, your head falling back against his jacket, thumping against the floor.

He laughs and you can feel him getting ready to swipe at you again, his thumb already slippery and near, the heat of it radiating against that sensitive bundle. “You like that,” he crows, repeating the motion until you’re writhing. “But—” he ponders, moving so his lips are pressed against you, resting on those sopping folds, waiting for you to look up at him. Once your head lifts and your eyes meet his, he lowers his mouth, sliding his tongue over you.

“Oh,” you whisper, your hands automatically lifting and curling into his hair, threading the white tendrils along your palms. His tongue is rough and bumpy as it glides along, pausing to lap at some of your arousal. He smacks his lips at the taste, savoring the flavor before voraciously pressing back into you for more. When he pauses his explorations to give your clit a soft suck, you can’t help but flail, your back bowing and thighs tightening around his head.

Tomura grunts at the rough treatment, prying your legs apart but not letting up on that suction, pleased he’s found something that makes you tremble to pieces in his hands. He’s always liked working you up, so it makes sense that, in this instance, he’s no different.

His long digits are scraping into you, dragging along your quivering walls and spreading your cunt apart, leaking your arousal all over his jacket and onto his chin. He’s not satisfied yet, you’re not satisfied yet, so he keeps going, listening and watching, catching on to what makes you cry out his name, learning and adapting at an alarming speed.

“T-Tomura,” you keen, your hips lifting, grinding yourself against his face, begging him to not stop. You feel a smirk lift his lips and his tongue begins to circle and lick over your clit, maintaining a steady pressure. Meanwhile, his fingers have latched onto something delicate and spongy within your pussy, repeating an arched gesture, curling and uncurling as they stroke your budding flames higher.

“So good…” you murmur, hardly able to form the words as you feel that all encompassing tingle race along your bloodstream. “You’re doing so f-fucking good.”

In response, he begins to suckle on your clit, lightly tracing a canine over the pulsing bundle and that’s all that it takes. Your head dips back, pressing into the floor so hard that your neck arches with your back and your legs wrap around him, holding him to you as you quiver and shake under him. You can feel your heartbeat as you return to yourself, thumping a rapid beat over your breastbone and radiating out to your fingers and toes.

Tomura, for his part, hadn’t stopped lapping at you, his tongue replacing his fingers as he pushes the wet appendage into you, soaking up each wave of your release. Even when you’d dropped your death grip, your legs and arms flopping away from him, boneless and shaking, he’d kept on. After a few minutes of this, his lips suddenly feel a little too ragged, the chapped skin scratching against your sensitive, overstimulated, flushed lower lips. You do your best to wriggle away, but he stills your movements, not quite finished.

“Ah- that...it’s starting to hurt,” you grouse, pushing a hand against his bowed head. That declaration seems to get through and, finally placated, he gives you one last lick and lifts his head, his eyes glinting down on you, dark and mischievous.

“I want to fuck you,” he tells you, wiping a hand across his mouth, dragging the last of your essence away. You tilt your head and grin up at him. “So fuck me,” you reply, spreading your legs again, making room for his trim hips.

“Not like this,” he qualifies, his eyes hooded as he runs a hand along your leg, enjoying your skin, warm and pliant under his palm.

“Then how?” you ask, a little bewildered by this shift in attitude. Tomura leans up, resting on his haunches, leering at your nakedness, another smirk lifting his lips, arching that scar.

“Stand up,” he instructs.

You pull your legs away and slowly rise to your feet, waiting for him to do the same. Once the two of you are eye level again, he tugs you to him, his lips pulling and nipping at yours. You can’t help but melt into his persistent touch and when he feels you slacken against him, he starts to push you backwards. He walks you slowly, carefully, but once your back touches the cold wall, his caresses become rougher, more insistent.

He’s lifting your chin and his teeth are doing more biting than nipping, pulling at your lips until you’re gasping and swollen. He begins to lift away and you protest the movement, but his hand presses into your chest, shoving you back to the wall. You freeze at the forceful treatment, your eyes opening and fastening onto his. Waiting for his next move.

Tomura’s regained that wild look, his eyes hardening, sharpening like ruby slips of flint as they linger over you. “Turn around and brace your hands against the wall,” he commands and, for an instant, you debate pushing back, challenging his order, but that’s not what you’re here for. No, you’d come here with one thought in mind.

To see if you could show him what choices, what strong inner drive, wholly independent of his Sensei, he did have.

You’d watched that kidnapping debacle and all you could think about was how much better, how much stronger he’d be if he could just get out from under the thumb of that man, that voice on the tv. Even with this informal exercise of your own, Tomura had taken to your carnal lessons like a fish to water. He had always been a natural born leader, someone who cultivated and demanded change, he just needs a chance to try. A chance to prove that he didn’t need to ask permission, to ask questions. No, he only needed to act and he could make his aspirations a reality.

So, you turn, splaying your fingers against the wall and waiting for his next move, tilting your head, wanting to see him. He runs a calloused hand over the plush swell of your ass, kneading the skin and stepping closer. Once his hips are flush with your posterior, he ruts his newly re-hardened cock against you, his ever copious precum aiding his motion, letting him glide between your cheeks, easing into that cleft. You groan and press back, wordlessly asking for him to keep going.

Suddenly, his palm smacks against your ass, stinging the flesh and sending a sharp crack around the barren room. “I said, push out more. How am I supposed to fuck you when you’re plastered to the wall like that?” Tomura questions, his voice deep and guttural. You brace your hands against the peeling wallpaper and jut your ass out, presenting yourself to him, quietly hoping he’ll reward you with another spank. Pleased, Tomura does just that, his other hand lifting and smarting against your other, neglected cheek, imprinting his mark on you, even if it’s only for a brief moment, and his fingers linger on the warmth he’s raised from your skin.

“Good girl,” he groans, taking his cock in his hand and searching for that weeping entrance to your waiting pussy. You aid him as best as you can, arching your hips until he finally, finally slips into you. Tomura lets out a deep sigh as your cunt devours his cock, slicking him into the heat of your rippling channel. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, pressing until his hips are flush with your ass, grinding his bony hipbone into your supple softness.

He gives you a brief second to adjust before he bows his head over your shoulder, panting and grunting. “Hold on,” he gasps, slowly pulling his hips back and then ramming his straining cock back into you. You mewl at the sudden ferocity of his thrusts, your head dipping against the steady weight of the wall.

He offers you no reprieve as he pounds into you, his teeth latching onto your skin, sucking and drooling, losing himself in you. His balls tap against your swelled ass and you moan when he traces one hand around you, his fingers seeking your clit and pinching at the nub.

Your teeth begin to chatter, but he doesn’t let up, maintaining that mind numbing pace, pressing and grinding until you can’t fucking think straight. He’s completely untethered and he slakes out all of those pent up questions, feelings, hurts and wants against you. After a time, he begins to murmur things to you, finally sucking up his loose tongue and resting his chin on the mess he’s left on your skin.

He’s worried he can’t do it.

He’s never been alone, not like this.

Sure, he has the others, he has Kurogiri, but it’s not the fucking same.

He needs to see this through.

He wants to, he has to.

Where do you go, when there’s no one else to turn to?

It’s like a confessional, this rutting he’s doing and it’s bleeding all of those thoughts away, letting them pool against the front of his mind and then, pop, they shift away.

Oh this helps, he thinks, loving how you’re fucking taking him, how much you fucking need him. He can’t let you go. He can’t, he won’t. You’re all he has left. After all this, he can’t lose anything else. No, you were right, he’s gotta start taking things, snatching up pieces until he becomes this unstoppable force, greater than his Sensei, greater than All Might, greater than all of them. Yes, yes, yes, when he has you like this, everything else feels so fucking simple.

He’s slowing, his hips beginning to stutter and press erratically against you. There’s no need to worry about you cumming for him, not when you’ve already broken around him so many times in the last few minutes. No, the second he started panting all of those thoughts against you, you were lost, your cunt gripping him so tightly you were worried it might never let go.

Finally, with one last thrust, Tomura grinds his hips against you, his cock swelling and pulsing as he spills himself into you. The sensation of his cum splashing against your walls hurtles you over that edge one last time and you almost collapse, your legs shaking so badly you can't support your own weight. The only thing that prevents you from falling is Tomura. His arms snake around your waist and he holds you to him, his forehead resting heavily against your shoulder, sticking to your skin.

After a long beat, Tomura pulls himself out of you, grunting at the loss of your warmth and sinks to the floor, dragging you with him. Naked and gasping, the two of you cling to the other, waiting for the world to stop spinning as you come back to yourselves. Tomura recovers first, tugging you to his chest and wrapping himself around you, his chin perched on the familiar slope of your shoulder.

“You didn’t...you didn’t need to do this, but...” Tomura halts, his voice soft as his lips press rough kisses to your skin, silently saying what he really means, what you mean to him.

“That’s not true,” you counter, turning your head toward him. “You deserve to make a choice for yourself. You’re your own boss now. Now all you have to do is act like it. Don’t make those mistakes again. You call the shots, not your Sensei, not anyone else in the League, just you. You’ll have other choices soon, so don’t doubt yourself, it’s not like you.”

He huffs out a laugh and buries his nose in your neck, inhaling your scent as he licks at a rising bruise. “I don’t think you’ll like my next choice,” he rumbles, one hand drifting over your side and cupping the soft mound of your breast.

“That depends on what it is,” you smile, your eyes closing at the tempting touch.

“Mmm, do me a favor,” he begins, nipping at your earlobe. “Get on your knees and open your mouth. You looked so fucking pretty when you were sucking on my cock, I wanna see it, one more time.”

“What?” you question, absolutely incredulous, “again?”

“Do as I say (Y/N),” he replies, rubbing his rising length along your ass.

“God,” you gasp, bucking at the sensation, “what have I done? At this rate, I won’t be able to walk for a week.”

“You’ll like it,” Tomura promises, his voice dark, “I’ll make sure that you do.”

Notes: never have i ever liked that kidnapping bullshit. i guess it lets AFO face off with All Might, but for Tomura’s development? it makes no sense and he’s never done anything like that again, in canon. so, uh, yeah. booo kidnapping scheme.

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @yixxes, @ghstmthr, @rekoii, @diaouranask, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

#asks #answered asks #pal muses #on Tomura’s dick #and his trauma #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #tomura x y/n #tomura x you #tenko shimura #shimura tenko #reader insert

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atiny-orbit1219 · 4 years

Text

Body Waves

Idol: Wong Yukhei/Lucas from NCT

Prompt: Whenever your mom is too busy with work you’re left taking your little sister to her dance lessons. I’m the midst of being stressed from finals your mom asked you to take your sister to dance. It was safe to say you weren’t happy but you did it anyway. The normal instructor is on leave and taking her place temporarily is her dangerously handsome nephew, Lucas. You find yourself immediately falling for the adorable boy so what are you going to do when he asks if you’d like a private lesson?

Warnings: suggestive?? I don’t know.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You peel the sticky note from the fridge and immediately groan. It was difficult to read your mother’s scratchy writing but you could tell what it said at one glance. “Working late tonight. Take your sister to her dance class please.” You mumble. Normally this wouldn’t be such an issue but finals week is approaching and the time spent watching your little sister twirl around clumsily could be used studying instead. Of course though, you were going to do it. There is no use in arguing with your mother. You’ll just bring your textbooks and do what you can.

After a quick breakfast you were out of the house and off to your college campus to have a day full of iced coffee, tears, and study guides. No one ever told you college was like this, the movies made it seem like two semesters of non stop partying and drinking but so far it's only been non stop crying and stressing. “Hey Y/N! You coming to the library with us? We’re gonna go over the study guide together.” you let out a soft sigh and shake your head. “Can’t… I’d love to but I have to take my littler sister to her dance lesson right after class.” You whine, pulling your bag over your shoulder as your friends give you looks of sympathy.

You head to the parking lot, test questions and answers running through your mind at full speed. You were too busy thinking you almost walked past your car. You groan to yourself, frustrated at how things are playing out. You take a few steps backwards and enter your car, going to pick up your sister from school. Within minutes you arrived at the junior high and watched as your sister jogged over to you and slid into the passenger side.

“The new dance instructor is starting today!” Your sister said excitedly, you two were chatting about your days to pass time and she just remembered that the temporary replacement instructor’s first day is today. The regular instructor is busy birthing a child so her nephew is taking over as he is on holiday from some pretentious dance school in The city. You nod at your sister’s words, your fingers drumming on the steering wheel. “I wonder what he’ll teach you guys.” I hum, curious to how this new guy was gonna handle ten little girls at once. At least now you’ll have some entertainment in the background while you study.

You and your sister were the last to walk through the glass doors of the dance studio, but luckily you weren’t late. You noticed the normal group of moms all huddled, whispering to each other and pointing to the door that led to one of the dance rooms. You of course just figured they were gossiping about something or someone.. typical dance moms.

You follow your sister and the rest of the group into the studio once it was time for the lesson to start. Your head was already buried in the textbook, your eyes scanning the pages as the path to the seats was muscle memory at this point. Except... they weren’t there. Instead a stereo has taken their place. You didn’t notice until it was too late. You tripped on one of the wires, your stomach dropping from fear and surprise as you saw the ground approaching, your textbook falling from your hands as you attempted to catch yourself. You closed your eyes, awaiting your fate to hit the hardwood floor… yet the impact never came. You felt a hand wrap around your arm and pull you against what felt like a brick wall but you soon found out it was your savior’s chest. You gasp in shock as he speaks. “You should really pay attention to where you’re walking.” His voice was lighthearted and his smile was blinding as he looked down at you.

You had to blink a few times to make sure this was real. You looked up at him, his tan face, gorgeous smile, beautiful brown eyes, and perfect hair… there’s no possible way someone this good looking was standing this close to you. “Oh! Well uh- you know- t-the chairs! They’re usually here.” You stutter like a complete idiot as all knowledge of basic human functions leaves your brain to make room for every little detail of him to be sealed in your mind forever. He just laughs and you swear it was the sound you hear as you enter Heaven’s gates. “Sorry.. I moved them to the other side to match my studio back at home.., it was a bit confusing.” He explains and you could only dumbly nod along.

He finally lets you go and reaches down, grabbing your textbook from the floor and holding it out for you. “Oh.. I heard this class is brutal.. good luck!” He says with a charming smile. You reach out, grasping the book tightly as you let out a small laugh. “Thank you! And yeah it’s a bit tough.. but probably not as tough as teaching these girls so good luck to you as well.” You hum before turning around to take a seat with all the other moms. Your heart was racing a mile a minute, your cheeks still red from the encounter as you pretended to read the book while you actually listened to the stranger introduce himself.

“Hello! My name is Lucas!” He said, his deep voice filling the room causing you to almost melt into the chair. “My aunt is currently on maternity leave so that means you're stuck with me for a few months.” He joked. The girls laughed as he continued. “Your teacher gave me your recital song and I have free reign on choreography so let’s make this something no ones ever seen before yeah?” Lucas smiles his heart stopping smile before leading the girls through stretches.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. No matter how hard you tried you always found yourself staring at his body while he taught. Every now and then he’d feel your eyes and turn to look at you, which you would quickly look down at the book in your lap. This boy had you and the other moms wrapped around his finger. All they talked about was how good looking he was and how taking off their wedding rings sounded like a great idea at the moment.

The hour passed by in what felt like minutes and soon it was time to go. You bite your lip, waving a goodbye to Lucas before gathering your sister and going home.

The next few weeks you practically begged your mom to let you take your sister to dance class. Finals were over and now you could let yourself become completely infatuated with Lucas. The previous week he asked you how your test had gone and you felt your knees go weak. He remembered!! You could almost squeal at how happy it made you. You knew you were acting like a middle school girl with a crush but you couldn’t help it.. Lucas is hands down the best looking man you’ve ever seen and he’s also caring, funny, sweet and just… perfect.

After another hour of watching Lucas magically keep the attention of the girls, the class came to an end and like every other day you go to wave goodbye and collect your sister so you two could drive home and you can rant about just how gorgeous Lucas looked today.

“Hey! Y/n!” You were stopped in your tracks as Lucas jogged over to you. You turn around to face him, your heart skipping a beat just from the close proximity. “Oh hey Lucas! Did my sister leave her shoes again because I swear I’m gonna start glueing them to her feet.” You pout and Lucas can only smile. “No not this time… Although your sister did tell me you were interested in dancing.” Your eyes went wide at his words. “Did she now?” You ask cluelessly, your gaze shifting to your sister giving you a thumbs up and a cheeky smile from behind Lucas’s back. This little brat- “If you’d like I can give you a few… private lessons?” Lucas offered. Scratch that, your sister is an angel and you will definitely get her ice cream on the way home. “Really? You’d do that?” You ask, a blush forming at the idea of being alone with Lucas. “Yeah! I need the teaching experience and my aunt gave me the keys to the studio… so maybe you can come by Friday night after close?” He asked with a shy smile which you returned. “Okay! Sounds great! I’ll see you then.. I guess.” You say nervously and Lucas nods. “See you then.”

As Friday night finally comes you find yourself panicked. “What do I wear? What do I say? You put me in this mess! Help me!” You order your sister who just laid on your bed to watch the chaos unfold. “Wear the one black tank top with your leggings, black is so your sweat stains don’t show.” She says calmly. “You’re a genius.” You say as you gather the outfit and get dressed. “Hair up or down?” You ask for advice once more. “Wear it down then before the lesson starts put it up while he’s watching… guys like that.” You nod, putting the hair tie on your wrist for later. “How do I look?” You wait for your final evaluation as your sister stands up to get a closer look. She lifts your arm, takes a sniff, then hums in approval. “You’re ready my young grasshopper.” You shove her shoulder but smile anyways. “I’m ready…” you say softly before grabbing your keys and purse before heading to the studio.

You see Lucas’s car already in the parking lot as you take a deep breath. He’s just a guy teaching you a few dance steps.. you repeat this as you enter the building. You find Lucas in the studio and he smiles as you walk in. “Hey.” He said softly. “Hi.” You reply. “I went ahead and picked the song and choreographed everything.” You were surprised at how prepared he was and it only made you fall further for him. “Just so you know I have two left feet and no rhythm.” You exaggerate and Lucas laughs. “I’m sure that’s not true… plus… you have me to guide you.” You blush at his comment but nod your head.

You remember the hair tie on your wrist and gulp nervously before bringing your hands up to your hair. You could feel Lucas’s eyes on you as you gather the strands into a low ponytail. After he knew he was caught staring he just cleared his throat and walked over to the middle of the dance floor. “Okay.. you ready?” He asked. You walked over to his side, “ready.”

You were not expecting the choreo to be this touchy. Once Lucas started showing you the moves and you felt his large hands on your waist you almost lost the ability to function. You somehow managed to keep up with him though as he instructed you on how to move your body with his. Soon you were ready to dance with the music. The low base filled the room as you immerse yourself into the dance so you wouldn’t focus on your body pressed against Lucas’s. There was one move where your back was pressed against Lucas’s chest and you swayed your hips against him. While learning the move you were careful about leaving some space between you two but you decide to take the risk as you grow drunk on Lucas’s touch. He noticed your change in confidence and couldn’t help but smile but that smile soon faltered. He choreographed this dance.. he should’ve known better than putting in a move where you are literally just grinding on him.

Lucas tried to continue to the next move where he turned you around to face him and he stopped there, the dance long forgotten as you give him a confused look. “Why did you st-“ Lucas leaned down, cupping your face with both hands and captured your lips with his. You didn’t hesitate and kissed him back, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck as he pulled you closer, his lips moving expertly against yours. You’ve dreamt this moment over and over again but you never thought it would feel this good. Your whole body felt like it was on fire as Lucas slowly pulled away, a small smile on his face. You smiled back, an unspoken understanding flooding both of you as you jumped up into his arms. He catches you effortlessly and your lips are on his again.

You kissed until you felt lightheaded from lack of oxygen, your back pressed against the cold glass of the mirror as you studied Lucas’s face from up close. His messy hair from your hands, his swollen lips from your kiss, his eyes full of admiration for you.. your mark was on him and even though you couldn’t see yourself you’re sure his was on you too. And if not it sure was gonna be as his lips traveled to your neck. You were never going to complain about taking your sister to dance class again.

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chemicalmagecraft · 4 years

Text

The Gamer Hero, Deku Chapter 29

A/N: Blarg sorry if this is late. I had kind of a lot of work for college recently...

xoxoxo

"Now that you've picked out your hero names it's time to get serious again," Aizawa said, having reclaimed his podium. He pulled out some packets and sheets of paper. "The work study will take place next week, starting Monday and ending Sunday. Those of you who got offers from agencies are heavily suggested to pick from that list, but if you ask for the other list I'll give you one. I'm mainly saying that for the people who didn't get many offers so you don't feel like you don't have a lot of choices. Keep in mind, everyone, that you should think carefully about what kind of hero agency you'd want to work for. Depending on the kind of hero work you want to do, you might want to look for a rescue agency. Or that'd be a waste of time if you want to focus more on taking down villains or crime investigation."

Midnight nodded. "If you want to do rescue work, go to an agency known for rescue work. Make sure to look up an agency before you choose it, too." She winked. "Would be pretty embarrassing if you thought your choice was an underground investigation specialty and you end up working under Wash, huh? And don't worry if you can't find too much, you can always ask one of your teachers."

"Right, it's almost time for lunch," Aizawa said. "You have a few minutes before that, though, so I suggest you spend it thinking about where you're going to go for your work study. You have until Friday to tell me where you want to go or Nedzu will pick for you. And trust me when I say that you don't want that. So all of you better think carefully about your choice." He passed out the papers, handing out the more uniform stack to the students who didn't get any offers and giving the people with offers their own packets (though Sero, Shinsou, and Yaoyorozu respectfully asked for extras of the first stack on account of only having gotten single sheets of paper...). I gulped when my extra-large packet thumped on my desk. "Have fun, kid," Aizawa-sensei told me with what sounded like the lightest bit of sympathy.

"...Would it be inconsiderate to say I feel slightly intimidated by this thing?" I asked. It was so big. The closest packet in size was Kacchan's, but even his wasn't nearly as big as mine. It'd take me a while to read through it all...

"Nah," Shinsou said. "As much as I'm jealous you got so many offers, I really don't envy you having to go through all those agencies." He scanned his list of offers. "Dang, guess I didn't need the other sheet. That one looks good." He pulled out his phone and started looking up whichever offer caught his eyes. I sighed and went back to my list. It had some basic information on each of the offering agencies, but I didn't know if that was enough that I could delegate some of the pages to my elementals...

"You're really thinking about that, huh Midoriya?" Tsu said after I'd read a few pages.

I chuckled nervously. "Ah, most of it is just that there are so many to go through. I've only gone through a few hundred..."

"Hey, at least you got any," Ashido whined.

"S-sorry..." I said. "I just... feel like I have to pick a good one, because there are so many..."

"That sounds reasonable," Ojiro said. "Luckily I'm already familiar with one of the agencies on the list, but if I wasn't..."

"Yeah... So I take it you've already picked an agency?"

"Actually, I have too!" Uraraka added.

"Nice," Tsu said. "Who is it? Studio Thirteen? The Wild, Wild Pussycats? Maybe Team Idaten?"

Uraraka blushed slightly. "A-actually I'm thinking of going to Gunhead Dojo!" She punched the air. "I know I want to be a rescue hero, but I realized when fighting Bakugou that maybe it'd be a good idea to at least have some experience with fighting and stuff even if I'm a rescue hero, y'know? Plus I think my fight with Bakugou awakened something in me."

Kacchan chuckled. "Yeah, that fight was pretty fucking great. You're pretty damn good already, but I can see why you wanna get some combat training." He looked back at his sheet. "Probably gonna go with Best Jeanist."

"Did not think you'd go for him, Bakugou," Ashido commented. She chuckled. "Though now that I think about it you kinda channeled him a bit in that fight with Midoriya, huh?"

Kacchan shrugged. "He's the highest-ranked hero that I got an offer for, though I suppose I also do wanna branch out a bit and figure he's as good a mentor as anyone."

Uraraka held her hand out to him. "Yeah, expanding new horizons!"

Kacchan snorted and high-fived her. "You're a dork."

"Well who's dorkier, the dork or the dork who high-fives her?" Uraraka asked.

Kacchan rolled his eyes. "You, for making that dumb fucking comment."

"By the way," Sonia's voice suddenly whispered in my ear even though she was sitting invisibly on Iida's desk, "Iida's heartrate spiked when he circled one of the names on his list. Hosu was where his brother was attacked, right?"

I winced. "That doesn't sound good. The man who attacked him, Hero Killer Stain, is a serial killer villain who always attacks in fours before moving to a new city, and Ingenium was his first strike in Hosu..."

"That bad?" she asked.

"I... hope I'm wrong about it, but he may be trying to get revenge." I sighed. "What am I going to do about this?"

xoxoxo

"Hey, Todoroki!" I said as we walked to the cafeteria. He was probably going to sit alone, but I'd decided to invite him to join our table. "Or should I call you Shoto?"

He looked like a deer in headlights as he turned me. "Um..."

My eyes widened. "S-sorry, I meant like your hero name, not your first name!"

"Right," he said. "Though, I don't mind if you do call me Shoto. I've... never really had a friend before..."

"Well that's... not exactly good, but I was planning on inviting you to sit with us at lunch. Would you like that?"

He blinked. It looked like he was a bit startled, like he hadn't expected that. "Yes," he said after think about it for a moment. "I think I would like that."

"Great! Follow me!" I smiled.

"Midoriya," he muttered after a few moments of silence. "I... initially thought of taking my father's offer."

"Offer?" I asked.

"His name was on my list of agencies I got offers from..."

I winced. "And... you said 'initially?'"

"I saw another agency, though. One that I remembered from when I looked up Water Hose. Have you heard of the Wild, Wild Pussycats?"

I nodded. "They're a rescue-oriented agency, but they might be really good for you. Better than him at least... I didn't know they took students, though."

"I didn't either, but I'm grateful for them."

I smiled at him. "That's good. Ah, here's our table."

Shoto was a little uncomfortable at first, but he warmed up to everyone by the end of lunch.

xoxoxo

I knocked on Shuzenji-sensei's door. We didn't have anything going on in our afternoon classes aside from looking over our options (and while I couldn't completely delegate that task to my elementals Juniper had offered to read them to me) so I got permission from Aizawa-sensei to talk to Shuzenji-sensei. "It's open!" she called.

I pulled my paperwork out of my inventory as I opened the door. "I got it signed!"

Shuzenju-sensei smiled at me. "Good job, Midoriya-kun. Give it here so I can give you your license, please."

I handed her the paperwork, which she started looking over one last time. "By the way, when you have time Power Loader wants to see you, something about you collaborating with one of his students."

I nodded. "I'll check in on that later, then. I have a pretty good idea of what it's about."

She nodded, then finished checking the paperwork. "Everything looks in order." She reached into one of the drawers of her desk and pulled out a small rectangle of plastic. "You can get another if you lose it, but it's annoying and I suggest you take good care of it."

"Thanks," I said. I sniffed. It wasn't a hero license, but it was so close! "H-hang on, give me a minute." I managed to only shed a single giant tear, then put my new healer license in my inventory when I had composed myself.

"Should I be concerned about the size of that tear?" Shuzenji-sensei asked me.

I shook my head, pulling the water off with my water magic. "No, it's a leftover mutation from my grandmother's Quirk, Ocular Gushers."

She nodded. "Okay then. Are you good?"

"Actually... can I voice my concerns about one of my fellow students?" I asked.

"Is this about Iida-kun?" she asked.

I flinched a little. "Yeah. I... just wanted to say..."

Shuzenji-sensei sighed. "Yeah, we're keeping an eye on him. Unfortunately not much we can do at the moment, if he's not willing to talk about it..."

"Thanks anyways. Also, I'm very close to prestiging my healing skill, so do you think I could try to heal Iida's brother when I do?"

She rubbed her chin. "That means you'll get a better version of it, right? I'll see what I can do about that, especially if it's as good as you think."

I bowed. "Thank you. I'll go now."

xoxoxo

I walked back to the development studio, after having cleared it with Aizawa-sensei of course. By now Juniper had gone through about a fourth of the list, but I was still no closer to figuring out who I was going to go with, even with the past bearers giving me advice. There were just... too many.

So I was going to take my mind off of it, for now at least. I opened the door of the development studio-

And dodged out of the way of a flying Hatsume. I had Halitus create an air cushion to catch her softer than the wall would.

"Hatsume, just the person I wanted to talk to," I said as Halitus lightly blew the soot off her. "Are you hurt?"

She gave me the thumbs-up. "I'm perfectly fine." Then she started invading my personal space with a mad glint in her eye. "Now what was it you wanted to tell me about?"

I backed up a bit. "Maybe we should talk in the development studio?" I suggested.

She nodded vigorously. "Of course, of course!" She walked through the open door. "Follow me, please!" I followed her to a workbench directly across from the door with a smoking, destroyed machine on it. Hatsume sat down on the swivel stool in front of it and sighed. "It's always a fun surprise when one of my babies explodes, but I wish I could unexplode it so I could try to see what went wrong."

"That would sound so wrong out of context..." Claude muttered, looking at the broken 'baby.'

"It still kinda sounds wrong in context," Iggy added.

"I might be able to help with that, if you don't mind," I offered, switching Float out from Mending.

"You can?" she asked.

I nodded and rapped the device lightly with my knuckle. It stopped smoking, the buckled parts smoothed out, the soot disappeared, and various bits of metal flew across the workshop to reattach to it.

Hatsume gasped and examined the machine. "My baby! Good as new! How'd you do it?"

I hesitated for a moment, but then shrugged and just came out with it. "It's a long story, but I can kinda copy Quirks now."

She stared at me with a huge grin. "So you want me to build you adaptable hero gear that can be used with all kinds of Quirks?"

I blinked. She was certainly eager... "That wasn't exactly why I wanted to talk to you today, but if you're offering then I'd be happy to at least try that out."

"Then what did you want to talk to me about."

I pulled a small marble out of my inventory. "Use Eye for Magic, please." She stared at the marble intently with glowing eyes and nodded. I backed up a bit and channeled some mana into the marble, activating it. The marble glowed as a bubble of mana formed around me.

Hatsume gasped. "Is... is that... an enchantment?" Even without Eye for Magic I'm sure I would have seen a mad glint in her eye.

I grinned. "Yup. I learned the skill after my last fight in the sports festival. I think it might be a good idea to teach it to someone whose Quirk doesn't involve easily learning magic, so they might be able to teach it to more people."

Hatsume drooled. "I agree to your terms. I will make sure Majima-sensei knows how to do it, and I'm sure he'll take over from there. Now teach me your ways."

I could understand her enthusiasm, so I took out two more marbles and tossed one to her. "Watch closely, I'll enchant this one with the Mana Dome spell and then let you try." She was vibrating. I activated Eye for Magic and stared at the marble as I enchanted it. It was a bit like programming the spell into the marble, using Item Enchantment as the programming language. I watched the way the enchantment set into the marble carefully so I could help out Mei if she had any trouble with it.

"Right, now you try," I said when I was done. She grinned maniacally as the marble glowed with her mana. I stared at it. She did it almost perfectly. The bubble wavered a bit when she activated it, but still... "That's actually a pretty good first try," I told her. "You've almost got it."

She grinned. "I think I know how to do it from here. The babies I can make with this..."

I nodded. "I take it you'd be willing to help me develop good enchantments? The Item Enchantment skill also lets me passively enchant anything I make with magic, which could get interesting if I have a good portfolio of enchantments."

She nodded vigorously. "Of course, off course!" She thought for a moment, then pulled out a lens that was probably meant to be used for a robot eye or something. "Watch this!" It looked like she was putting the Eye for Magic spell into the lens, which was a pretty genius idea, actually. Unfortunately, though, the lens cracked. "Damn it!" she yelled, then looked through the lens. She sighed and held the lens out to me. "You can fix this, right?"

I took the lens and Analyzed it. It was almost there, but not quite. "Yes, but it'll probably wipe the enchantment. Mending doesn't exactly fix things so much as it returns them to a previous state." I checked out the enchantment on the lens by holding it up to the shield marble. It looked off, but it was definitely promising!

"Drat. Ah well, just do it. I wanted to practice wiping enchantments, but I suppose I can do that later."

I nodded and Mended it. "Probably a good idea." The lens uncracked and the enchantment disappeared. I handed it back to her. "And I think that making magic-sensing lenses is also pretty genius."

"I know, right!" She grinned and attempted the enchantment again. This time she got it perfectly. She looked through the lens and grinned, then handed it back to me. "Keep it, I'm gonna see about making magic-sensing goggles for my whole class."

I grinned. "That's gonna be fun."

She nodded. "Actually, you said you can copy Quirks, right?"

"Yeah."

"If you want you can copy mine."

"Thanks. I can think of a few ways that I can put it to good use. Can you use it like a magnifying glass, or only to see faraway things with better detail?"

She grinned. "Correct! I can zoom in on even the tiniest of circuits as well as the farthest of people!"

"That can be pretty useful. I mean, even if it was only farsight I could use it for spell sniping, which could be pretty fun, but that's also pretty good!" I held my hand out. "I can copy Quirks through skin contact, if you will." She high-fived me. "Thanks. I'll check in on you later."

She pulled out her phone. "Actually, let's swap phone numbers so we can talk enchantments!"

"Yeah, that sounds good!"

"Gettin' a girl's number, huh?" Raimon joked. "Dang, Izuku, I didn't know you were such a player!"

I mentally rolled my eyes as I gave her my number. We talked for a bit more about enchantments and design (she was way more useful than Wikipedia, the free online encyclopedia that anyone can edit, when it came to developing my Imaginary Architect ideas) before I returned to my classroom.

xoxoxo

Kacchan slapped me on the back after dismissal. "You figure out who you're going with, Deku?" he asked me with a smug grin.

"No, not yet," I said. "I assume you have?"

He nodded and showed me his packet, or rather the name on his packet that was circled. "Best Jeanist," he bragged. "Number four hero's pretty fuckin' good, huh? Plus, he'll probably have some tips for my silk magic." He emphasized that statement by creating a small strand of silk between two of his fingers.

"So that's... something you're doing now?" I asked.

"Yeah, it was pretty fun tying you up," Kacchan said.

"Is that really something you want to admit?" Tsu asked him.

He silently flipped her off, which was honestly pretty tame for him. "Plus, I could probably use something to restrain villains and not just blow 'em up."

"Yeah, that's probably a good thing to think about," I said. "You wanna leave now? I should probably get home soon so I can read through my list."

"Yeah, sure, let's go. Mom's gonna wanna see this." He opened the door.

"I AM HERE IN A BIZARRE POSITION!" All Might shouted, bent over to be right in front of Kacchan's face. Was it just me or did he look slightly nervous? His trademark smile was wavering ever-so slightly.

"The fuck are you here for?" Kacchan asked him.

"I need to borrow young Midoriya for a bit." Saying this, he held up a small slip of paper. "A late submission."

Kacchan nodded. "I got it, I'll wait to walk home with him." He grabbed my shoulder and yanked me toward All Might. I stumbled forward a bit, but caught myself so I didn't crash into All Might. "You guys've got talking to do anyway," his voice said despite his lips not moving.

"Follow me, then, young Midoriya." All Might started walking and I followed him.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask..." I said as we walked.

"Hm? What is it, young Midoriya?"

"Do you mind if I call you Yagi-sensei? At least when we're talking in private?"

He smiled at me. "Of course, my boy! Though, what brought this on?"

I chuckled sheepishly. "It's a bit of a long story but, well... I kinda entered my mindscape and realized I put you on a bit of a pedestal."

"There was a literal pedestal, wasn't there? Probably with a giant statue of me." He lightly touched his chest. I cast Healing Hands on him, just in case. "And... might I guess there was a crack in the statue?"

I blinked. "Y-yeah... How'd you know?"

"It's not my first time dealing with mindscape logic."

"When would you have..."

Yagi-sensei gave me a small but hearty laugh. "I'll tell you later." He led me down the bathroom hallway. "Now, this offer..." He started trembling slightly. "Well, it comes from my old homeroom teacher, back when I was in Yuuei..." I frowned and used Open Mind. What kind of person could they be to make All Mi- Yagi-sensei nervous like that?

Not wanting to probe too deep, I only made out flashes of a yellow blur bouncing around a gymnasium and some yelling. "Why would he come out of retirement to send that offer?" Yagi-sensei thought. "It must've been that letter I sent him..."

I turned it back off. "Hey, is he talking about Torino?" Shimura asked.

"Was this person a friend of your mentor?" I asked.

Yagi-sensei flinched. "Er... Yes. He... Well, he saw a lot of promise in you, but thinks you could use One For All better."

I thought about it. "I... probably could, yeah. Speaking of, though, I found something I think you'd like to know about."

He eased up. "What is it, young Midoriya?"

"I think it might be better just to 'show' you, actually. Invite Yagi Toshinori to party."

Yagi-sensei looked at the text box for a moment before accepting.

"Hello, Toshinori," I heard a bit of a smirk in Shimura's voice.

Yagi-sensei coughed up a bit of blood in surprise. "Sh-Shimura-sensei?"

She chuckled. "Yes. Sorry for the surprise."

"H-how? Are you... a ghost?" He started looking around for her. "Speak, apparition," he said.

"Oooooh, Iiiiii'm aaaa ghooooost," Hikiishi said. "And I'm here to make you faaaaaaaart."

"Don't tease, Jiroku," Kaizen chided.

"What," Yagi-sensei said flatly. He looked at something, probably the party list. "Young Midoriya, are these... the past users of One For All?"

I nodded. "I kinda... found them in my mindscape. I think it's a part of One For All or something."

Yagi-sensei nodded. "I remember seeing vague shadows of what I had assumed were the previous users once or twice when I was first getting a hang on One For All... Perhaps it was a glimpse of these... ghosts."

"Oh yeah I remember that," Daigoro said. "Was pretty freaky when it first happened..."

Yagi-sensei nodded. "It was very freaky." He cleared his throat. "Young Midoriya, do you mind if I stay in your party for a bit? I think... I'd like to catch up with my old mentor."

I nodded. "Yeah, I understand, Yagi-sensei."

"Thank you, young Midoriya." His smile eased up a bit.

xoxoxo

Elemental list: Midoriya: Halitus, Dune, Rayne, Blaise, Juniper, Mifuyu, Raimon, Iggy, Sonia, and Claude Bakugou: Pyra and Leaf Tokoyami: Corvo Uraraka: Nebula and Ion Hagakure: Lucy Tsu: Bubbles Aizawa: Charlie and Cassiopeia All Might: Seth O'Scope

#fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bnha #The Gamer Hero Deku #GHD CH29

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x1-imaginesreturns · 5 years

Text

Butterfly (Part 2)

Masterlist

(Part 1)

Pairing: Dongpyo x fem!Reader (Soulmate AU)

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 5,724

Notes: Thank y’all for all the support already, I wasn’t expecting to get so much attention already! Love you guys the most! I was also tempted to make this three parts but I’m leaving to go camping soon plus I have a foreign exchange student coming so... I kinda had to finish it.

Requested: No

“Alright now that all of the groups have been chosen, please take a seat with the people you have been assigned to,” your teacher says, gesturing to the dance class to make their way towards you guys.

As other groups started moving desks together, you sat there nervously as you waited for Dongpyo to make his way over to you. ‘Of course, it just had to be Dongpyo,’ you thought to yourself, ‘I mean, now I don’t have to worry about Minjin telling me to stay away from him. I should probably apologize for what she did though.’

Once the person sitting next to you had moved to their group, Dongpyo started making his way over to you. And considering you were in a classroom, that wasn’t a very far distance to walk. Soon enough, Dongpyo is sliding into the seat next to you, giving you one of his cute smiles.

“Hi y/n!,” Dongpyo chimes, scooting his desk so we’d be right by each other, “It’s been a while!” You nod shyly. “U-uh I’m sorry about a few months ago, I really didn’t mean for Minjin to drag me away like that,” you say, looking down in embarrassment.

“That’s in the past y/n,” Dongpyo says, “You and I have a chance to get to know each other now!,” he finishes happily, grabbing one of your hands, “So come on, don’t look so down! We’ll show both classes that we’re the best duo!”

After he grabbed your hand, you looked up in surprise, seeing that Dongpyo was still smiling brightly. You blushed, you don’t understand why you keep forgetting how cute he actually is. “We sure will!,” you say excitedly. You couldn’t help it, his energy was contagious.

You swear, Dongpyo’s smile got wider and you weren’t even sure that was possible. He takes his hand off of yours, instead reaching to grab the paperwork with all of the requirements on it. “Let’s discuss what kind of concept we’re going to go for, okay?,” he says as you nod, “I can already tell we’re going to have so much fun!”

You guys had decided on an interesting concept, it was going to be about a cute boy trying to show off his sexier side. You both thought that the image suited Dongpyo pretty well, and you were going to aim to make it a style of music that you enjoyed as well.

And so, you were currently sitting at one of the picnic tables at the local park. The park was known for its bright and colorful scenery, especially the flowers, which were everywhere you looked.

Since Dongpyo couldn’t make a dance until the song was finished, you guys knew you had to get that done first. Your teacher had said that the goal of the song was that it should be able to be performed easily.

“I’ve never sang and danced at the same time,” Dongpyo confesses, “I suppose I can practice that while you work on the song.” You nod, looking back down at your paper filled with miscellaneous ideas about the song. Lyrics, what it’ll sound like, etc.

Suddenly, Dongpyo gasps, reaching forward to grab both of your hands. Startled by the sudden action, you abruptly looked right up into his sparkling eyes. “What if you sing and dance too y/n?? We’d look so iconic together!,” Dongpyo says excitedly, his classic smile appearing again.

Your mind is screaming at you to not listen to him, as you don’t have any dance experience plus you’d have to make a rap part, as your voice isn’t exactly fit for singing.

But your heart just can’t resist his smile.

“I-I mean I don’t have much dancing experience,” you say as Dongpyo nods, “And that means we’d have to add a rapping part, I don’t sing very well,” you finish as Dongpyo thinks over it.

He then nods. “That’s totally okay y/n! I can help you with dancing and I guarantee that your rap part will be awesome! Let’s do it!!,” he says excitedly, his eyes glistening brightly.

“Okay!,” you say, “Then let’s get serious!”

Even though choosing the concept was easy, the rest of the song was proving to be challenging for you. Once the instrumental of the song had been completed, you had no idea where to start or where to go with the lyrics.

It was currently nearing midnight and you had only finished the first verse. You knew Dongpyo was relying on you to get this done, but you had no idea where to start. As a few tired tears started slipping down your face, you knew you were nearing defeat.

Normally, you’d call one of your friends and maybe ask them for help or advice, but all of them didn’t care about you anymore or you hadn’t heard from them in forever.

I mean... you could always call Dongpyo right? He was your friend now technically, wasn’t he?

‘But he should be asleep,’ you think to yourself, ‘With all the work we’ve been putting into this, he should be getting lots of sleep.’

You sigh, knowing that you should be getting sleep too. But the stress from not being able to finish the lyrics isn’t allowing you to get the rest you needed or wanted. Your mind suddenly wanders to Dongpyo. The more that you thought about him, the more you realized that you weren’t so stressed when you were around him.

He could always tell when you were stressing out, even just a little bit. Of course, he’d flash you a smile that could melt anyone’s heart, and gently calm you down. He’d always knew where you could look for inspiration, and secretly, you knew that most of the time, you found your inspiration in him.

Without realizing what you were actually doing, you were pressing the call button on Dongpyo’s contact. What startled you out of your thoughts was of course, the sound of your phone ringing, and then the name of the contact on your phone screen.

“Hello??,” you jumped up, surprised that he actually answered, “What are you doing up so late y/n? You really need to be getting sleep.” You can imagine Dongpyo’s upset face perfectly. He’s pouting, but his eyes show concern.

Shaking yourself off from the strong mental image, you say, “I-I was just getting stressed out from the project,” you answer, “A-and you were the only person I could think of to call. But... you should be getting sleep too Dongpyo, we’re both working on the project together.”

He sighs and says, “Yeah, I know... but I just had a feeling that I needed to stay up tonight,” he finishes. “Wait, stay up for what?,” you ask curiously. “I didn’t know why,” Dongpyo says, “But I do now.”

“Yeah, so what’s the reason?,” you ask. “To comfort you of course!,” he says happily. You’re sure your face had every possible shade of red across it, not that Dongpyo could see, of course. “I-I mean, I’m fine,” you stutter out, “You don’t need to do that, Dongpyo.”

“But I want to comfort you,” Dongpyo starts, “I can tell you’re stressing way too much. Just listen to me y/n... I’ve had so much fun getting a chance to know you and work on this project. I know you’re a really talented producer and musician, and that even when you're stressed, you work till everything you do is absolutely perfect.”

“I always heard about you from Minjin,” he says, “I was sad because she was taking advantage of your kindness, even from the beginning. She always picked on me because I was apparently better than everyone else, and she always made fun of you behind your back because you apparently weren’t good enough for her. I always hoped that someday I could find you and tell you everything.”

“And then I finally found you, and Minjin took you right from my fingers. And then I saw you slowly disappear from the bright you I had met back at the convenience store. I never approached you because I thought that maybe you were still friends with Minjin. But then we got assigned to be a group for this project, and I’ve seen you brighten up again.”

“And even though I don’t know that it’s because of me, I’m glad that you’re smiling again y/n. So don’t stress out, as you said, we’re in this together! I know the song is going to be perfect. And I know that’s because you made it,” Dongpyo finally finishes.

Your face is as hot as a wildfire, and your face and ears are super red. Why had Minjin lied to you about him? He was more supportive than she or Sihoon had ever been. And he truly believed in you too.

“T-thanks Dongpyo. I-I didn't realize how much I needed to hear that,” you say shyly. You can practically hear him smile through the phone as he answers, “Anytime y/n. I really mean that now.”

“Now, you really should be getting some sleep y/n,” Dongpyo says, yawning a bit before continuing, “We both need to be in good spirits if we want the project to come out good!”

You yawn in agreement and Dongpyo giggles a little bit. “Goodnight y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, another yawn coming out of his mouth. “Goodnight to you too Dongpyo, I can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” you answer.

“I can't wait either,” Dongpyo says, “Goodnight y/n.” You smile softly as he finally hangs up.

And as you start to fall asleep, you can’t help but think you just might have a crush on Dongpyo.

You know it wasn’t good for you, but you woke up early the next morning and started working on the lyrics before you left for your classes. You definitely made more progress than you did last night, and you were proud of yourself.

Soon enough though, you did have to head to your classes, but you were still proud of the progress you made. As you’re walking to class, you start thinking about Dongpyo and about how you’re going to get to see him soon.

Your face heats up a bit at the thought of him. Your eyes stray down to your tattoo, the little butterfly almost lighting up at the thought of Dongpyo. ‘If only he could be my soulmate,’ you think, ‘But he definitely doesn’t have the same tattoo as me, he definitely doesn’t even have a tattoo on his hand.’

You sigh to yourself, knowing that you’re practically helpless. As you head inside your campus and towards your first class, you see Sihoon and Minjin hugging before they go their separate ways, and as you walk near the west entrance, you see Eunsang give his soulmate a kiss before walking inside the campus.

You can’t help the next few sighs that escape your mouth as you finally approach the door of your first classroom. It felt like the world was full of soulmates but yours was just dancing around you like a butterfly.

And what about your crush on Dongpyo? Isn’t it wrong, since he isn’t your soulmate, to like him in that way?

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of those thoughts. There’s no use dwelling on them. Class is going to start soon and you need your head in the right place.

And right as class started, you took a look outside. The sky was dark and you weren’t surprised when rain started to fall, creating a steady rhythm on the window next to you. And as you turned back to class, you felt despair gripping at your heart.

Your first class had gone by slowly, and the only thing keeping you going was the steady rhythm of the raindrops on the window next to you. You swear, you’ve never heard the halls so quiet as you walked to your next class. The sound of your shoes echoes throughout the hall, and you thought it was a fitting representation for how lonely you felt.

You continue walking, keeping beat with the rain as you do so. But then...

“Y/n!,” a familiar voice calls, “Wait up for me!” You turn around, and see Dongpyo walking towards you. He almost has a halo of light around him as he walks towards you, and when he finally stops in front of you, the world around you brightens.

You notice how outside, there wasn’t even evidence of rain, when you had heard and saw the rain just a few seconds ago. ‘Did I imagine it was raining?,’ you think, ‘How is that even possible? What is he doing to me?’

“Hey don’t look so surprised to see me, y/n,” Dongpyo says, grabbing one of your hands , “Let’s go to class together from now on.” You stare up at him with widened eyes, a few tears bubbling up in them.

“Let’s g- Are you okay y/n?!,” Dongpyo says worriedly. You shake your head and say, “It’s nothing Dongpyo. Let’s just get going, okay?” Dongpyo nods, but you don’t miss the slightly worried look in his eyes as you start walking towards your class.

You had finally finished all of your classes for the day, and it was now time to head back to your dorm to fix it up before Dongpyo came over. Since you were having trouble with the lyrics, Dongpyo suggested he come over and maybe try and help.

You frantically run around, making sure everything is in place and nothing looks weird. You were lucky you got a dorm to your yourself. You also set up your computer on your dorm’s small kitchen counter, and set out two glasses of water.

You had also changed into one of your favorite outfits, a pair of light colored jean shorts, and a slight crop top with pretty flowers decorating it.

Glancing at your phone’s clock, you knew that Dongpyo would be at your dorm any minute now. You were nervous, for sure. What if he thought your dorm was weird or something?

You sigh as you hear the faint sound of footsteps making their way down your hall. By now, pretty much all of the other students who lived in the same hall as you had returned from all of their classes by now.

And a few seconds later, you hear a knock on your dorm’s door. “Coming!,” you call out, walking over to your door. Opening it reveals Dongpyo, of course, and not without his classic smile. Seriously, at this point, he should be famous for them.

“Hi y/n!,” Dongpyo chimes, stepping in and giving you a surprise hug. Your heart pounds even faster than it already was, but you relish in the small moment nonetheless. The two of you part, and Dongpyo immediately goes over and sits at your kitchen counter, ready to work.

You knew you guys wouldn’t be working for too long, you had most of the lyrics done, meaning Dongpyo could start working on the choreography and you both could start recording your parts.

The song sounded really good, you had to admit, so you were proud of yourself. You were proud of Dongpyo too, he had been practicing a lot. In the beginning, you two silently worked at your table as you typed out lyrics and Dongpyo thought of formations for your dance.

Soon enough, you were working on the last verse of the song, and as you typed in the last word, you jumped up in victory, scaring Dongpyo. “Woah, hold up!,” Dongpyo says, giggling slightly, “What are you so happy about?”

“I finished the lyrics!,” you say excitedly, grabbing his hands, “Now we can finally work on everything else!” Dongpyo smiles and says, “That’s great y/n, let’s get started right away then!”

“What do you mean?,” you ask, misunderstanding him, “We gotta get recording equipment set up and all that.” Dongpyo shakes his head and says, “I meant dancing wise silly, you don't have any experience, so we gotta work on that first.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, “So where do we start?”

Due to time constraints, you and Dongpyo worked quickly on developing your dancing skills. According to Dongpyo, you were making really good progress for someone who didn't have much expenience.

Recording for the song also went by easily, as you two had listened to the song way too many times for your own good, so singing it wasn’t too hard.

Of course, the hard part was combining the two. Singing and dancing at the same time.

And then your teacher just had to put more pressure on you.

“So class,” you teacher started, “One week until the final project is due. I’ve been listening to some of your songs and they all sound quite good, I’m proud. Anyways...,” your teacher says, trailing off for suspense.

“What is it?,” someone in the back of the class yells, everyone else nodding in agreement. Your teacher grins before continuing, “I have a surprise for all of you!,” he rubs his hands together before saying, “We all know the next season of Produce 101 is coming up soon of course.”

Everyone nods and my teacher says, in a rush almost to confuse us, “The song that gets the highest grade will be featured in the next season as one of the final songs!”

No one says anything for a long while as we all just stare in shock. As if we’re all on cue, everyone starts screaming at each other, still in shock. Your teacher just stands at the front of the room, practically grinning at the chaos that ensued.

Nothing more was said of it, but everyone worked harder than ever before.

And finally, it was the nerve-wracking day before the final performance. You and Dongpyo had gone over the recording many times to make sure nothing was wrong with how sounded or flowed already, now it was just time for final dance rehearsal.

You had most of the song down, there was just this one part that you were having trouble with. You knew how to visualize it and you had watched Dongpyo do it too, but you still weren’t quite catching on.

And that’s why you and Dongpyo were currently practicing. As the song went along, the part was approaching and you were getting nervous. It didn’t help that you came in right after, meaning the timing had to be perfect.

The part was then upon and you had no time to react as you... messed it up again. Of course, then you stopped and sighed in defeat, making Dongpyo run over and turn off the music.

“S-sorry Dongpyo,” you say, looking down, “Whenever I mess up, I just kinda freeze up.” Despite the number of times you’ve messed up, Dongpyo still smiles at you and says, “And that’s okay. We’ll work through it, okay? This time I’ll guide you through it.”

Dongpyo walks back over to the computer and slows down the song a bit and presses play. He then darts back over to you, and says, “Just trust me, okay y/n?” You nod, not knowing what he meant.

As the part started approaching, Dongpyo puts his hands on your hips, pulling you close to him. As a massive blush erupts on your face, Dongpyo says, “Alright here we go y/n!”

He guides you through the movements easily, his hands never leaving your hips. It definitely made more sense now, but the feel of Dongpyo’s hands on your hips had practically been imprinted into your mind, and your face was definitely a dark shade of red by the time you finished.

As the part ended, Dongpyo ran back over to your computer to make sure the song didn’t play again. He also readjusted the speed of it. As he walked back over to you, a look of concern crosses his face.

“Are you okay y/n?,” Dongpyo asks, “Your face is really red.” You nod your head and say, “I-I’m fine! I just need a drink of water that’s all,” you finish, your eyes darting everywhere but never landing on Dongpyo. “Are you sure? You seem really frantic y/n,” Dongpyo says calmly.

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumble semi-quietly as you grab your water bottle and take a couple sips from it. However, as you turn around to face him again, you see him cock an eyebrow at you.

“What is up y/n?,” Dongpyo asks, “You’ve been so jittery recently. And don’t tell me nothing’s wrong because something’s definitely wrong,” he finishes firmly.

You sigh. He was right, you had been quite jumpy lately. Freaking out whenever he hugged you, stuttering out of control whenever he complimented you, and even just blushing at the sight of his smile.

Not to mention, he can instantly brighten up any day, and even take away what you thought was a rainy day.

What was wrong with you? You were so clearly falling for someone who wasn’t your soulmate and it was breaking you in so many ways.

Getting out of your thoughts and back into the real world, you see Dongpyo still patiently waiting for an answer to your strange behavior.

“It’s because of you,” you mumble quietly, barely audible. Dongpyo tilts his head and says, “What did you say? I didn’t quite catch that.” At that point, you’re really feeling every emotion that you had bottled up for him come up to the surface, along with the bubbles of tears forming in your eyes.

And you know you shouldn’t have exploded on him like you did... but it just kind of come out unwillingly.

“It’s because of you!,” you shout, startling Dongpyo, “I can’t stop thinking about you and you’re affecting me in ways that you shouldn’t! I can’t be falling in love with someone else’s soulmate!”

You don’t know what compelled you to storm over to Dongpyo, but you did. With tears practically blocking your vision, you grabbed his right hand, your index finger accidentally covering where the tattoo would be and held it up, trying to show him the lack of the dark blue butterfly on him that appeared on your right thumb.

But as you lifted your index finger off of his thumb, you felt something come off with your finger. As you looked at your finger, what looked like concealer now coated it. And when you looked back at Dongpyo’s thumb...

The little dark blue butterfly had appeared.

Not believing what you were seeing, you went into hysterics. First looking up at Dongpyo’s face, you saw an emotion almost like regret coating his features, his famous smile nowhere present. You then released his hand again, like it was on fire, and looked at your own tattoo, almost as if you didn’t want it to be there.

And finally, you ran right out of the studio’s doors, not even bothering to grab any of your stuff. Tears ran down your face like a flood as you ran down the street towards your dorm and darted up the stairs of your dorm building. You knew you were getting plenty of weird looks, but you didn’t care.

You just wanted to be alone.

As you sat and sobbed into your pillow for hours, you weren’t really sure what your heart was feeling. On one hand, you were overjoyed. Dongpyo really was your soulmate, and that certainly explained why you had been attracted to him so easily.

But on the other hand, he hid his tattoo from you and the rest of the world. So many questions ran through your head.

Did he know we were soulmates this whole time? Why does he hide it in the first place? Is he afraid of getting hurt? What is even going on? Does he want to be my soulmate? Does he not like me back?

Ugh, why are soulmates so complicated for me?

Huffing into your pillow, you decide to get up and look in a mirror. Your eyes were red and puffy beyond belief, and your hair practically was a rat’s nest. You sigh in defeat, remembering that the final performance is tomorrow.

You had no idea what you should do. You both had to be in good spirits for tomorrow in order to pull off a good performance and to possibly win the contest. And speaking of tomorrow’s performance, you still hadn’t properly practiced the part that was messing you up.

‘It never hurts to practice,’ you think to yourself, ‘Even if we don’t fix things before the performance, I still need to be able to perform.’ You pull out your computer and then fast forward the song to near the part.

As the song starts, you start following along to the dance easily, and once the part arrived, you flowed through it seamlessly and ended the song powerfully. You don’t know why you were having so much trouble with that part, but now that it was over, you felt relieved.

Of course, you know it’s because of Dongpyo. If he hadn’t helped you like he had, you still would’ve been stuck.

And of course, you probably wouldn’t have found out that he was your soulmate.

‘I really need to stop,’ you start thinking, ‘But I’m definitely not going to be able to stop thinking about it. Ever.’ Sighing again, you figured maybe some sleep would do you some good.

Dongpyo was still the last thing you thought about before you fell asleep.

*knock* *knock*

A large series of knocks on your dorm room door wakes you up abruptly. It was currently 1:37am and you had to rub on your eyes to be able to see properly. Staggering over to your door, you open it to reveal the Security Guard that stood downstairs every night.

“Hello????,” you say in confusion, “What do you need?” The guard sighs before saying, “There’s a boy downstairs who’s claiming to be your soulmate, he says he needs to see you and fix things before he loses you. I can’t let him upstairs due to what time of day it is, but you’re welcome to come downstairs.”

He starts to turn from your door, but before he really walks away he says, “And if I were you, I’d go to him. I’ve never seen someone try so many different things to try and get in. He’s sitting on a bench outside if you’re up for it.”

He starts walking down the hall and as soon as you see him disappear around the corner, you close your door. ‘Should I really go to him?,’ you ask yourself, sighing, ‘I can’t just leave him out there like that, that’s not who I am.’

You decided it probably would be nice if you didn’t go out there in pajamas. Changing into just a plain pair of shorts and a t-shirt and then throwing on your nearest pair of converse, you were about to head out, but you stopped to look in your mirror.

Everything but your face looked fine. Your eyes were puffy as all hell and your hair was still messy, your lip tint even smeared from you crying into your pillow. You quickly run into the bathroom and straighten out your hair and fix your lips, it’s the least you can do.

You don’t know why you rushed down the stairs but you did, breathing a bit heavily by the time you got to the bottom. As you started walking towards the doors, the security guard was watching you and you swear you saw a small smile on his face. And as you looked outside, you saw Dongpyo’s familiar head of hair sitting on the first bench outside.

You also had your phone on silent, so you didn’t notice the frantic buzzing of your phone that would be there otherwise. Dongpyo had been texting and calling you in hopes that you would wake up, but he started to become discouraged because he knew you put your phone on silent when you went to sleep.

Standing right before the doors, you inhaled a large breath as you saw Dongpyo with his head between his knees, and by the little shakes of his shoulders, he was also crying.

He didn’t even seem to notice that someone opened the door, he just kept on crying. You stood there nervously, as you weren’t sure what to say but then he started crying out loud.

“I-I can’t b-believe I-I screwed th-things up with my own s-soulmate,” Dongpyo stutters out, clearly distressed, “H-How was I-I supposed to know the m-most amazing g-girl in the world was a-actually my soulmate?”

You blush a little as more frantic sobs come out of Dongpyo’s mouth. You take in a deep breath, knowing that this is it.

“Dongpyo?,” you say gently. He looks up at you slowly, almost as if he doesn’t believe you’re actually there. He stands up slowly too, walking towards you, almost as if he was in a trance. Tears were still running down his face, his eyes puffy like yours, his cheeks stained with tear tracks.

“Y-y/n...,” he says softly, stopping in front of you, “Are you really there?” You’re trying to not let the tears form in your eyes, but they are anyways. “Yeah... I’m here,” you answer, trying not to let the tears fall from your eyes.

Dongpyo’s eyes let out more tears as he suddenly embraces you. You stand there in shock, not hugging him back for a few seconds before you felt tears finally stream down your face. When you felt Dongpyo start to pull away, you then grabbed him and held him tight.

It was like that for what felt like forever. You and Dongpyo just softly cried in each other’s arms. But... there was still the wall of tension. You still needed an explanation from Dongpyo.

The two of you parted finally, and Dongpyo looks at you with tearful eyes. You’re sure you look about the same. “So...,” you start, your voice already sounding weak, “Why were you hiding your tattoo?”

Dongpyo sighs deeply, breaking away from the gaze you were holding with him. “My mom always told me I wouldn’t get hurt if I hid my tattoo,” he says solemnly, “My dad, her soulmate, cheated on her... and their tattoo’s disappeared afterwards. I was about 10 when they split and after that my mom starting covering my tattoo.”

‘That’s right,’ you think to yourself, ‘People can lose their tattoos if they’re not actually meant for each other.’

“And it’s just kind of became a habit for me,” he continues, “After my parents split I was always doubtful of the whole soulmate system. But then... I met you,” Dongpyo says firmly, “I fell for you instantly.”

“Thinking, maybe, just maybe, you could be my soulmate, I tried looking at your hands whenever I could, but it just seemed like every time I did, there was something covering that spot or I couldn’t even see it at all,” Dongpyo says, a wistful look on his face, “And then... you started yelling about how you were falling for me, and I was happy, I thought maybe I could secretly get away with being a jerk to my real soulmate like my dad was.”

He sighs, “I regret ever thinking that. Then, in a twist of cruel and amazing fate, you ended up being my soulmate. When I saw your tattoo, I almost felt like I was seeing things, and then of course, my disguise didn’t work, and you saw my tattoo.”

“I hated that I was the one who made you that upset. Seeing you like that broke my heart, y/n. I cried for hours after that, just for the fear that I had lost you forever, not just as a friend but now as my soulmate too,” Dongpyo says, a few more tears running down his face, “But I couldn’t give up. If there was even a chance of you forgiving me, I was willing to do anything to make you forgive me.”

Dongpyo stops then, moving his eyes to look back into mine. “So basically, I’m sorry. I couldn’t have wished for anything better than for you to be soulmate. I hope you’ll forgive me y/n.”

You didn’t realize how much you had been crying, but the tears were really pouring out now. Looking deeper in Dongpyo’s eyes, you saw his every intention and hopefulness in them. And you knew deep down, that he had told you the truth.

Even though you weren’t far from each other, you took a couple steps to stand right in front of him. You grabbed both of his hands, and looked straight into his eyes. “Dongpyo... even though I was hurt... how can I not forgive you now? When you’ve now shown me your sincerity and told me the truth? It’s easy, and it’s not just because you’re my soulmate.”

“If you hadn’t come here tonight... I don’t know what I would’ve done. So thank you, Dongpyo,” you say, dropping his hands to embrace him again. “Y-you’re the best soulmate anyone could ask for y/n,” Dongpyo says, “I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

The two of you parted from your hug and Dongpyo grabbed your hands once again. “One last thing y/n,” Dongpyo says, a hint of a smirk forming on his face. “What?,” you ask.

“Oh nothing,” Dongpyo says teasingly, “Just this.”

Dongpyo leaned in swiftly, pressing your lips against his quickly.

He then backed up a bit before running over to the bench he was sitting on to grab the bag you had left at the studio earlier. He then gave it to you and then started running off. “Goodnight y/n!,” he yelled as he was running away, “See you tomorrow, you better be ready for the performance!”

“Yah! Son Dongpyo, where are you going you dork?!,” you yell after him, “You can’t just do that and then run away!,” you finish. You swear you hear him giggle off in the distance but you’ll never know.

And as you open the doors of your dorm to go back inside, wiping off the last few tears off of your face, you can’t help but smile.

You’ve finally found your soulmate.

#x1 #x1 imagine #x1 imagines #soulmate au #part 2 #dongpyo #x1 dongpyo #son dongpyo #x1 scenarios #x1 reactions #sihoon #kim sihoon #eunsang #lee eunsang #produce x 101 #produce x 101 imagines #produce x 101 scenarios #produce x 101 reactions

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beabaseball · 5 years

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this is a delirious 11pm post for Adults Only guys

Leave this space, child!

...

...y’all teenagers are going to be tweaked out of their goddamn minds.

Like, not necessarily in the drugged way, though some maybe yes in the drugged way, but like. Specifically in the non-drug way, they’re going to be snippy, and inattentive, and self centered. And that’s probably fine.

Like. Of course teens are self-centered, their bodies are doing weird shit for the first time and people keep making jokes they don’t understand yet, and some of these fuckers haven’t been given sex ed so they don’t even know what’s coming.

The younger teens have just emerged from the child form that has only just started being able to comprehend a larger world. In elementary school, sure I was reading time magazine for kids and we prayed for people who were being reported (religious school; recent tsunami, it happens) and when I was in 1st or 2nd grade we heard rumors that once upon a time women weren’t allowed to do the same stuff as men, but like— you can feel those things, but it’s not really something that you comprehend unless it’s right then a part of your life. I remember the first time I really ‘got’ sexism was in ninth grade in a gym class of 24 boys to 3 + me girls, and I wrote bad poetry about it in my phone for like three months trying to process it.

When I was like 16 our car broke down midway to school and we had to call my dorm parent to come drive me the next 5 mins, and so he’s in a bad mood bc he has to pick me up, and mom is in a bad mood bc car she gets a feeling dorm parent didn’t believe her when she said the car broke down, and it’s like 80 out but more importantly the humidity is a swamp, and I just remember being in his car driving the rest of the way to school and he’s complaining about sunburns bc he’s super pale and Irish, but he’s trying to talk so I kind of say “huh well i’ve never gotten a sunburn. I tan real fast and then go inside and I’m white again.”

and even in the moment I remember being like “that’s not really what he wanted to hear” and I think he even made a face, but I was too out of it and hot and tired to really do anything passed that. And I do feel kind of bad about it? Like, I did not mean to demean his pain of sunburns and I know also that at the time he was having A Rough Time with his marriage, to the point where he had us doing religious plays about parenthood for three seasons straight.

But also, I was a teenager. And looking back I can’t exactly blame my past self for just kinda... saying some words and feeling bad the rest of the car ride but also too tired to care. Theater teacher man wasn’t a bad guy; we were definitely not good at reading each other and he thought musicals sucked, but he also was the one who comforted me out of a panic attack when we had a tornado warning and I ended up convinced my daystudent friend was going to die.

Because that’s what I cared about at the time. Me-related things. Yes, tornado, but I am worried about one (1) person, and that mattered to me. I stayed behind when we got an actual sex-ed person in 7th grade because I was scared that reading yaoi would send me to hell. I had a breakdown in front of my history professor because one of my friends was discovering her gender identity and I was scared I was ‘losing her’ (you know the words!)

Now, someone comes out to me or someone doesn’t understand a term and I’m over here like “yea which definition u wanna use” but back then I was a kid and I had never experienced anything like this before, my hormones were wild—which didn’t mean I was horny and wanted boyfriend, it meant I was in constant fear of bleeding through things and every now and then I would wake up and my body would be in surprise unknowable pain (aka I was finally big enough to cut off my own circulation in my sleep and also growing pains)

Now, I’ve got a lot of that under control. When I wake up with a body in pain I usually know why and probably it is my fault actually. I know a bit better how to get through days when I’m too hot, or too groggy, or just dissociation or mad. (The trick is: say aloud, “sorry if I’m not responding much, I’m just really hot/groggy/out of it/still upset about that.” )

That’s not something a lot of teens have down yet. I saw a kid with a naruto shirt on at work once and I said “hey naruto” and he looked at me like he’d seen the face of god, he was so surprised someone knew what naruto was. To someone even MILDLY in my age range, the idea of not knowing who Naruto is is preposterous. But this was like, 12-15 year old at the most. Not hit his growth spurt yet. Just absolutely blindsided that there was an outside world which recognized something he liked, which I’m gonna wildly guess his parents probably aren’t into or don’t talk about it with him, because the thought of talking Naruto with your kid is horrifying.

Obviously, thinking other people don’t know about naruto is a similar kind of self-centered thought along the lines of “I bet thigh chick isn’t a REAL fan of x” or “EVERYONE has an opinion on me and there is no in between” where like the world... sort of revolves around you.

And like, once that person grows up if they keep that sort of self-focus, that’s usually the time you start trying to ditch them, but even older teens are still just coming out of that larval childhood state. They know a lot more about the world than we probably did at their age—I know a lot of them aren’t having the same existential crisis over their friends’ gender like I did, which is a big ol step— but there are still days that it’s going to be too much new shit to deal with, plus whatever else is happening inside them personally. And it’ll take a while to learn how to handle that.

In the meantime, they might be snappish, or out of it, or just kind of give up and have a ‘fuck it’ attitude sometimes, and it drives a lot of adults just goddamn insane it seems, according to all the mildly aggressive parents at work, trying to get kids who don’t want to be there to give the right reactions. It’s probably not even anything personal to the event that’s making them unhappy. One time I talked to a kid who was crying, and when I got her to tell me what was bothering her, it turned out that some people on her family reunion were mean to her. Nothing about the immediate ‘now’, just a lot of emotion that needed to go somewhere, and that somewhere ended up being crying, and it was not at all about respect or disrespect or anything related to us. Probably most of what was needed was to talk about it (success) and take a long nap.

The first time I remember having a meltdown with a ‘trigger’ like that, I was in 5th grade and my first assignment was something like “what did you do over summer” so I lost my entire shit and cried on the couch for an hour. Passed out, slept til 7, woke up and was fed soup, and have no idea if I finished that paper but presumably I did because I remember a nap and food working.

I would keep having these homework meltdowns periodically, and I don’t know when they stopped, but I had at least one, maybe two, in my first year of college.

And eventually I’ve just kinda.... stopped having them. Stress about a big project wasn’t something that bothered me anymore. You just did it one step at a time, and when you started thinking “maybe I’ll do it in the morning”, you immediately go to bed because you’ve already lost the fight and even if you don’t do it in the morning at least you won’t face it sleep deprived.

It takes time and living to get these experiences, and while one kid might not have the same issues with school work I had, maybe something else just knocks them on their ass every time (same) and it is just. Literally something you need to live through a couple times before you know how to deal with it. You can provide Blank Slate Alien Person with all the mental health tips and anecdotal advice and chamomile tea as you want, but the first couple times they face stress, none of those tips help if they don’t know how to implement them.

If you’ve ever assembled something by instructions and ended up building it upside down—it’s easier to build it again once you’ve gotten mad and undone it and started again. Because you’ve practiced. You already had the instructions, but now you have the experience of building it already, even if the result wasn’t the one you wanted.

Teens are learning a) how to read instructions, and b) that their assembly is probably upside down. and in the meantime, the world is also bonkers wild right now.

When they have that moment of rage, or giving up, or aloofness upon finding shit got built upside down— just. Let them.

You don’t have to ‘fix’ it or ‘fix’ them for having these emotions, or lack of them.

These are normal reactions. They make sense. All I’m asking is that we understand it’s going to happen. These emotions are going to happen.

Don’t let yourself justify being mean to kids and teens by telling yourself they’re being disrespectful. The world and their lives and emotions also don’t revolve around you. It’s not always a rebellion or reason to fight when things get too high strung to hold total control of.

That doesn’t mean ignore them. I was maybe 12 or 13, and it was 90 on a metal ship, and i was wearing an under shirt because i didn’t have a bra, so two layers of clothes on a hot metal ship, on my period— and all I remember is asking my dad to let us sit down and eat some lunch, because i was dizzy and dehydrated, and all he just kept saying we would do it once he saw the tour. I have no idea how long it was but I probably could’ve cried and been called moody or uncooperative.

Life is difficult. Especially for people who aren’t yet in control of their situations. Who are still bursting out with emotions they can’t otherwise articulate.

Be kind to that.

#long post #ramble #teenagers #kids #teens #puberty #puberty Sucks #especially when the world continues to exist around you #beatext #memories

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maybrandon · 4 years

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Reiki Healing 2018 Wondrous Cool Ideas

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Can Reiki Cure Baldness

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Reiki Healing Lincoln Ne

Reiki can help you determine whether you want to be eliminated from your spiritual feelings.As other master's, a reiki practice or Reiki Treatment for the tests.The point with Reiki and had told her that she or he is willing to treat the different attunement processes.Alongside this my meditations became highly visual, rather than delving into the earth.Whether it be any different with Reiki is a great way for what she saw and felt and about the effectiveness of a natural balance physically, mentally, emotionally and like nothing ever stays the same.

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#Reiki Healing 2018 Wondrous Cool Ideas #Learn Equine Reiki

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ashleyspinelliburnbook · 4 years

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S1E8: The Pest/The Legend of Big Kid

It’s a happy day, because we have been gifted both a Gretchen episode and a TJ episode! But it’s also a very fraught day, emotionally, for reasons you’ll soon discover. (There’s a good kicker, at least, for your trouble. No spoilers, but the ending of “The Pest” goes exactly as I’ve relayed it here.)

Read on for relationship advice, feminism, and a brief aside about white colonists in Africa:

The Pest

How To Make A Boy You Don’t Like Leave You Alone

by Gretchen Grundler

I don’t hate boys. Anyone who says that about me is simply incorrect. Four of my best friends are boys — my friend Spinelli and I are the only two girls in our group. When I’m fighting that kind of gender ratio and still enjoy their company, how could I ever hate them?

But some boys in particular are not worth my time. As a person who recently had an experience deflecting one of these boys’ advances over an extended period of time, I feel I am uniquely qualified to dole out advice on this matter.

I’m sort of spoiling the endgame here, but let me say, it is scores more effective to deal with troublesome boys yourself than to leave them to your teacher. Miss Grotke may mean well, but she’s a teacher, after all. At the core of her philosophy is law and order. Plus, in Miss Grotke’s case, she’s a much bigger proponent of letting us work out our own issues. Everyone wins.

You may feel hopeless, though, when a boy you don’t like starts bothering you in class. Maybe you want to tell the teacher. But that’s just a quick fix, and not a particularly effective one. It’s a band-aid. It won’t translate to your interactions on the playground, which is where your reputation really matters. (Okay, your academic reputation also matters. Maybe more.)

Of course, you may not know he likes you until he TELLS THE ENTIRE SCHOOL AT THE SAME TIME AND YOU JUST HAVE TO SIT THERE AND TAKE IT BECAUSE IF YOU DENY IT RIGHT AWAY THE ENTIRE PLAYGROUND WILL BE TOO BUSY LAUGHING TO NOTICE.

Whew, that felt good.

Still, nothing brings the playground together like a common laughingstock, and that was me. And when there’s a common laughingstock — the K-I-S-S-I-N-G chants were still ringing in my ears long after they happened — this empowers the boy you don’t like. Because suddenly, he’s not working for his cause alone. Suddenly, the entire playground is on his side.

What did I do? Well, I felt entirely hopeless. I tossed and turned every night, vivid dreams of this boy and I getting married and having children and growing old together disrupting my sleep. I was so distressed that I didn’t come to school the next day until lunch, which isn’t like me at all, of course. I want to stress, that was a one-time course of action. When he found me in the cafeteria, my friends tried to protect me, but alas, my lovestruck friend Mikey was starting to be won over by this boy’s persistence.

The first action I took was to simply cancel out what this boy had done to me first, declaring his love for me to the whole school. According to my calculations, it had the least risk and the most reward. Unfortunately, when a girl tells the whole school she isn’t romantically involved with a boy, they tend to believe the opposite. A boy publicly announcing his love for a girl, even against her wishes, is revolutionary, a real risk, something to be lauded. A girl publicly announcing her rejection of a boy is, well, mean. There are many high-school names a girl in my position might be called, but I won’t trouble you with them.

After even more pestering at school, even up to him talking to me through the vent that connects the boys’ bathroom and the girls’ bathroom, I had had enough. On the bus home, I told him I wouldn’t speak to him anymore, recognizing that ignoring him hadn’t worked in the past, but I was desperate for any semblance of peace and quiet, even if it was from me.

You know what he said? “I’ll take your silence as a yes,” and, “Denial is the sincerest form of flattery.” That’s not even the phrase! And if he was taking silence as a yes, why wouldn’t he take me saying “no” as a no?

The next action I took was drastic — high risk, a potential of a lifetime of punishment if it went south — but I knew it was a risk I had to take. I marched up to this boy at school the next day and called him out. I pulled out a pair of handcuffs and locked us together for eternity. The key? Gone. This boy? Presumably having the time of his life.

Except...he wasn’t. As I regaled him with all the things I would make him do that day — math club, spelling bee practice, a frog dissection over lunch — robbing him of his agency for perhaps the very first time, he broke down immediately. I pulled out the spare key to the handcuffs and set him free.

He said he just wanted to show me how much he liked me. But if we don’t call out this entitlement early, who knows when this awakening might have occurred for him? How many more girls would have had to suffer this ordeal?

“You know, Spinelli? Boys are really weird,” I told my friend when this was all said and done. “I know what you mean,” she replied. “Can’t live with them, can’t grind them into chalk dust.”

My eyes lit up as I thought of a science project I had been working on in my spare time.

“Well, actually, you could,” I said. Because I may be one to take one for the team, to put myself in harm’s way to try to mitigate future suffering at the hands of another person, but that doesn’t mean I don’t always have a backup plan.

Takeaway: Hot damn, this episode made me mad!

The Legend of Big Kid

Is Kirby Puckett the greatest outfielder that ever lived?

I'm not much of a stats person beyond the basics — field goal percentage, sacks, errors, the ones that will come up in conversation on a regular game broadcast. So, aside from a quick glance at his career numbers, which tell a story about his career, I can’t tell you if Kirby Puckett was the greatest outfielder that ever lived. (I will say that his number was retired a few months before this episode aired, which was a few years before the domestic violence allegations against him came out.)

Anyway, lucky for us, Vince and TJ can’t make this decision either, and it’s during their argument that they stumble right into the setting for this episode: the old playground that allegedly hasn’t been used since the 1970s. (Yet it’s on campus? Okay, okay, suspension of disbelief. My elementary school had a whole bunch of ways to get off campus during recess without anyone noticing, but it wasn’t done with any regularity — it’s possible they just didn’t know it was there.)

But it turns out someone has been using it, and recently, because TJ falls into a trap. As he’s hanging upside-down from the monkey bars, the two hear the rumbling of kindergarteners approaching. TJ tells Vince to save himself, but Vince instead distracts them so that perhaps TJ can get away. Vince, though, doesn’t realize how far or how fast he’s been running, because before he knows it, he’s back at the regular playground sobbing into Spinelli’s arms about how he could have done more to save his friend.

The coast seems clear, so the gang heads back to the old playground to get TJ, but he’s gone. Gretchen posits the kindergarteners must have taken him back to their pen, but that’s deserted, too. “They’ve probably migrated to their winter encampment,” she says, which doesn’t make the rest of the gang any less terrified for TJ’s safety.

We then get a jarring prisoner log from TJ, who tells us, “The unthinkable has happened. I am a prisoner of the kindergarteners.” He’s in a cage, unsure how much time has passed, and he’s not sure what his captors have planned for him. One of them — their leader, who TJ calls “Captain Sticky,” calls him “Big Kid” and tosses him some candy. TJ refuses to eat it, in case they’re fattening him up to eat him, but eventually is too hungry to say no.

Meanwhile, the gang is busy hustling the rest of the school, asking if they saw the kindergarteners, if there was a fourth-grader with them. The outcome appears bleak for TJ — everyone knows what might happen if those kids got a hold of an older kid: nothing good.

TJ, though, is...starting to like captivity, or at least get used to it. Whereas the kindergarteners first have to threaten him with weapons (crayons and paintbrushes attached to the end of yardsticks) to join them in tasks like finger painting and napping, he quickly assimilates to their ways.

Gretchen finds TJ’s shoe on the playground, lost in one of the initial scuffles, and Vince erupts in a “Noooo!” so heart-wrenching, you forget that TJ is, well, okay. Because the gang doesn’t know that. The kindergarteners are too elusive. No one knows what they’re up to except them.

But the gang acts on a more promising lead as Gretchen uncovers a still-wet lollipop. The trail is hot again!...just as we see TJ napping again, riding tricycles, and playing musical chairs. Is he too far gone?

When the gang arrive back at the old playground, they fall into yet another trap. Someone locks them in a cage, and the kindergarteners assemble, beating drums and shrieking. (We will...have to talk about how the kindergarteners are portrayed at some point in these recaps. There’s a very obvious white settler colonist, Indiana Jones, “thrilling adventures through untamed Africa!” look about them.)

The drumbeats slow, and who should walk out but...Big Kid. Well, TJ. The gang are shocked at how quickly the kindergarteners have completely taken hold of their friend, who now dresses like the kindergarteners, acts like the kindergarteners, and speaks like the kindergarteners. He won’t listen when they try to tell them who he is.

Somehow, it’s Vince talking about baseball that brings him back, though. Little League. Kirby Puckett. And TJ breaks down in tears, wailing, because he’s been through so much.

The gang finally gets him out of there, and Spinelli has to help TJ tie his shoes. “Shoes, underpants, I can’t get used to all this stuff!” he exclaims, and they don’t get it. (Gus calls the kindergarteners “primitive.” See latest parenthetical section.) But Gretchen recognizes he’s in a better place to be able to listen to reason now, so after he tells the gang he misses the freedom of being able to do whatever he wants all day, she says, “Don’t you see? Their way of life is coming to an end. By this time next year, they’ll be first graders.”

And TJ does get it. With one last nod to Captain Sticky, they part ways.

Takeaway: Growing up is hard, especially when you’re a kid and it goes by so quickly. Perhaps giving into some indulgences of yesteryear isn’t all bad, though, so long as you balance them with your current life and don’t let them consume you.

#recess

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josiebelladonna · 1 year

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in a mood. here we go again.

Perform a word association exercise with the word “sex.”

Secrets. Stop. Lies. Cheating. Shame. Hatred. Self-hatred. Discomfort. Disgust. Hopeless. Chanceless. Trapped. “What am I doing wrong?” “What’s wrong with me?” Nope.

Would you say that you have or have not had a strong sexual drive in your life? How does and did this level of sexual drive affect your intimate relationships?

I’m once again going to try really hard and not be negative with these, because I’m exhausted. Insecurity and no confidence are no joke and not something easily fixed by telling me I need to exude confidence or to “just be myself” because those pieces of advice are anything but helpful. And we wonder why I get so angry about it. These are meant to help me and meant to let me audit this part of me, this part of me that I have never loved or felt proud of before.

What struggles have you had with your sexuality?

In what ways do you nurture your personal sense of sexuality, and/or sexual relationships?

I draw. I write. …I live on a mountain top, 20 minutes away from a trump bastion. it’s not like I have a ton of options.

I like to wear jewel tones and low-slung jeans: I do not like high-waisted jeans or shorts because they cut me in half and bunch up around my crotch and my butt (every. single. time); I really just… don’t get the appeal and why everyone clutches at themselves at the mere mention of anything low-rise. I like camisoles. I like pajamas. I like underwear: as much as I cringe at the thought of wearing lingerie, I do like just wearing a bra, and I do have a teddy in my closet, too. I like to wear jeans: I have never felt good in a dress before. I dunno, it’s a bitch to walk around in and sit in, and I hate how the skirt always wants to blow up (I’ve lived in windy areas my whole life). After a shower, I let my hair hang down for a few hours before I brush it: if I haven’t showered in a few days, I comb my bangs up into this pompadour upon my head so I have this Elvis/Dennis Miller thing going until I feel like climbing in. I like tops that are low-cut and are a bit snug: I really don’t mind if they ride up my body a bit. I recently rediscovered my love of midriff tops! They are the only things to let me put the exception on high-waisted jeans. Only makeup I have is chapstick and nail polish: when I was little, I’d put on lipstick and eyeshadow and mascara but I never could get into it, though. I always look over made. “You’d be so much prettier, though!” Heh, nope. Even just a little bit makes me look like I just walked out of the circus.

Write about your first sexual experiences. Interpret sexual experience any way like, even it’s about you first kiss.

(Resisting the urge to be angry, even though I kind of am annoyed just reading this)

And then naturally, I got caught.

Write about your last sexual experience. How was it different from your first sexual experience?

What were you taught about sex as you grew up? What did you not know that you needed to know?

Sex ed from middle school onwards, plus I was told that guys just want to get in my pants by my drug addict father. I was never told about pleasure or anything good or that kinks are good or the range of sexual orientations or anything genuinely useful. Just your standard “insert penis into vagina, have babies” and that was it. I was also bombarded by these messages of “don’t be promiscuous or a slut, don’t get a reputation, no one will want you otherwise” and it was always in junction with being ladylike, too. Like, you HAVE TO BE LADYLIKE or no one will love you (gen z has adapted this ideology in worrying amounts, like nevermind triggering me for a second: you cannot tell me that this current generation is healthy when they adapt some of the most inhibitory behaviors ever). I also heard things like “if you have sex, you WILL get pregnant, FACT.” (i.e., the whole “men force abortion on women” thing that pro-life feminists claim is like science fiction to me)

How has your views of sex changed over time?

I guess i’m more aware of it and it’s not as alien to me, but that really isn’t saying much. 30 years old and I feel like I just scratched the surface.

Describe a sexual fantasy you have.

If I wrote it, and it has either a mature or explicit rating, it’s probably fantasy.

Turn a sexual experience into a piece of short fiction. Describe the setting. Use dialogue. Write erotic description.

Judge me forever.

Write about the best sex partner you have ever been with. Describe a special time together.

So… I’m a virgin. I really do feel like no one wants me and “they” were right.

What changes if any would you like to make about your sexual self?

I really want more confidence and freedom, and I’m so wary of saying that, too, because I know what the answer is going to be. It’s going to be this bullshit, hackneyed, so-called “advice” that’s only going to piss me off. I have felt so much shame about this fucking bullshit, that it’s a chore to even get out of bed. I hate my sexuality. I want it all changed so I don’t have to think about it anymore. But, aside from the changes in career, I have had my boundaries disrespected by family, friends, peers, classmates, everyone. Everyone apparently thinks it’s okay to invalidate my feelings and my choices, and that it’s okay to make fun of me when I change my mind and think it over again.

Take my whole issue with makeup: I literally hate wearing makeup, and girls often asked me why I don’t wear it. “I just don’t,” and also “I don’t like the way it feels on my skin”. Cue the “there’s natural makeup” and the “you’d look so much prettier with it”. I GAVE YOU AN ANSWER.

Write a sexual confession to your partner or someone you admire. Be straight forward or as kinky as you would like.

So, this took me about an hour to write up because I initially came up dry and then I found myself in a very vulnerable position when I started thinking about what I… really wish I could tell you everything I feel about you. I have so much fear around how I feel about you, and I really, really don’t know how you’ll react to this should you ever see it. I’m not confident in my words. I could lose you. I could push you away. I think my desires are terrifying and gross, and I just don’t know what to say to you most of the time: really, I feel like I’m bullshitting with you all of the time because you’re so intelligent and cool and content and seem to have everything together… and I’m not. I feel like I’m just not worth your time most days: there are far more women out there who are far more interesting than me, women who are better than me, like they have degrees and they’re accomplished architects who refer to themselves as gypsies for some reason even though that word is a level of self-hatred i can’t even begin to fathom (i can’t explain it, either—and you heard this from me, too—but she’s gay. Think about it: talks about you in businesslike fashion, makes you visibly uncomfortable, talks down to other men and is lowkey too friendly to other women, obsessed with frivolous nonsense to where it feels like denial of something else, it’s closeted homosexuality). But what have I done?

I look into your eyes, those deep blue eyes, as deep as the Pacific Ocean. I look at your handsome face, how it gets more handsome when you’re smiling. I look at your beautiful hair, at how it’s two-toned and soft-looking: I look at your hair from when you were younger and I want to play with it. Don’t cut your hair short again: it was cute, but you look so gorgeous with long hair (it suits your face better, too). No, you don’t need to lose weight: you look so healthy and so cute with a little belly, and I want you to have it back. Eat up. Bring that cute little tummy back for me.

I think of kissing you there, touching you and holding you around your full waist, especially after you’ve eaten.

I think of cuddling with you—I love to cuddle and be warm and safe.

I think of touching you below the belt, of feeling and fondling you there: I have often considered that belly rubs lead to handjobs, and belly kisses lead to blowjobs. I think of you doing the same to me: that velvet tongue on the insides of my thighs; those long fingers on my clit or around the rim of my belly button or around my nipples, those soft cherry lips on my skin…

I think of making out with you, just really slow, soft, sensual love-making where we’re close and feeling each other.

I think of role playing with you: you’re the hot professor, especially now that you have glasses. Or we’re vampires or merfolk.

I also just think of kissing you, giving you a little peck on the cheek for being such a sweetie. You’re kind of everything that I’ve dreamed of, everything I love in another person, and if I’m being honest, you don’t even seem real sometimes because you really are that perfect to me.

What would you like to learn about your sexual self?

What part of your sexuality seems the most mysterious to you?

Those lesbian thoughts I keep having. Even with as much as I love men, I can’t help but feel aroused by women as well.

And also why I keep coming back to this. Why did I keep my incredibly high sex drive under wraps when sexual energy is incredibly powerful.

The shame. Why is there shame. Why did you make this. How is this even possible.

When you hesitate to write something, what reminder can you give yourself to be as completely honest as you can, both factually and emotionally?

“I have nothing to compare myself to”. And “what are you waiting for, a bus?”

What, if anything, about sex distresses you?

My poor stomach has been through a lot, too: I worry about having to run to the bathroom because my own erotic tendencies are sending my digestive system into overdrive.

The pervasive feeling that i’ll never have it, either. I’m a virgin at 30. Most 30 year olds have had it several times, i’m lucky to have some rando on the street even look at me.

What change would you like to make in your sexual behavior?

Confidence.

What change would you like to make in your sexual attitudes or thoughts?

I wish I could be more open with them and not feel like they’re weird or gross.

What change would you like to make in your sexual emotions or feelings?

Same story there. I don’t want pain, either.

What memories came to mind from the previous questions?

All the times I was asked “why do you do this?” and I’d give a legit answer and then they would respond with unsolicited advice or opinions.

The phrase “raunchy side” *shudders* and feeling incredibly powerless in her wake.

This isn’t sexual, but one time, I cried in front of my paternal grandmother and she rolled her eyes at me. That side of the family just never cared about me.

All the times I showed any emotion and no one knew how to react… or worse, they wouldn’t leave me alone to the point of harassing me.

Nothing good or happy.

What do you like most about your current partner? Least?

I’m a virgin. Also, HEY. CAN WE PLEASE STOP USING THE WORD “PARTNER”I AM GENUINELY TRIGGERED BY THIS WORD.

Make three (or more) sexual wishes. Don't hold back!

Make a list of your sexual partners and write a few phrases to describe the relationship. What patterns do you see?

After years of research, I finally came to the perfect scientific conclusion: I’m a fucking virgin.

If you have a sexual partner now, write about this relationship. What works for you in this sexual relationship? What would you like to change?

Boy, you know, my hand not only does things to my clit and tits, but it can also become a fist to break the face of whoever implores the regular use of a clinical, completely loveless and soulless word like “partner”.

Describe what your ideal sexual relationship would look like today.

I’d say maybe something with polyamory given I’m polyamorous, but that’s about where it starts and ends, though. I don’t know what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like (I know what an unhealthy relationship looks like, so I guess … healthy is just the opposite? I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.)

If you have been sexually dissatisfied, what has kept you in the relationship?

Doesn’t apply. I’m embarrassed.

Are you able to ask your partner for what you want sexually? How do you do that?

The two times I have ever been out on a date, plus the time I cybered, I had the absolute worst time telling them about what I wanted, mainly because I couldn’t. The dates were first dates: even I can tell you that you don’t reveal too much too soon because that can push them away. It wasn’t like I could tell them anyway. But the second date, i.e., the time I was fixed up, I could feel that pressure, like… if this went past the first day, I would have to tell him. And I had no connection with him. He was more interested in socializing with my stepdad than getting to know me (and the second he walked through the front door, I thought, “nope, this is not going to be anything special.”) so I was literally bored and awkward sitting there next to him.

As for the time I cybered… I’m just going to assume that the first time is always awkward.

If you have difficulty asking for what you want, what are you telling yourself that makes asking difficult?

“Will they really know what I’m talking about?” and: “is this really what I want?”

What are your sexual limits with your partner?

I like a little pain… not too much, though. I like little nibbles or scratches down the back, or spanking.

None of that “daddy” nonsense, either.

Don’t ever call me your “partner”, either, i fucking hate that word now. I want to know when it was normalized because it’s so sterile and cold and influencer-y. Call me that and I’ll straight up leave you.

What sexual behavior won't you do or would do only under certain conditions? Write about those to clarify your boundaries.

(see the tidbit with pain) Please don’t overdo it. My body is actually very sensitive and too much pain is too much.

As repulsed as I am by the idea of having penetrative sex, if there’s protection involved, I actually might reconsider.

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD BE PATIENT WITH ME. I’M DUMB AND TRAUMATIZED, I DON’T KNOW WHAT I AM DOING.

I don’t like it too rough: I’m slow and sensual for the most part, but a little quickness goes a long way if I think about it.

In what way might your relationship with your partner deepen or improve by talking openly about sex?

Hang-ups about… noonewantingtobeinarelationshipwithme aside, I really feel like an open conversation could help a relationship. For me, it’s a “make or break” type thing: if they aren’t comfortable with it, they probably aren’t for you. If they’re curious, but they’re like me and they aren’t comfortable at all with this stuff or they’re not sure or comfortable (to the point they hate) their sexuality, make them feel safe. Put your arm around them and help them because it’s very daunting, especially when you see they’re alone because everyone is either disrespectful and patronizing or “too busy”. Make it make sense for them.

Can you recall your first discovery of sexual fantasy? What was it about?

All I know is I was very young and I didn’t understand what was happening, either.

Write out three of your favorite sexual fantasies. If this is new to you, make one up now.

Yuck fou. Yuck fou again. Yuck fou some more.

How have you used your sexual fantasies up until now?

Haven’t. Can’t.

What began as a fantasy that you later took into action?

The time I told Alex I’m in love with his voice. It was way before I wrote voice kink one shot in eclipse, too. That one in particular was so much fun to write—kind of tricky, but fun, though.

What sexual fantasies work the best to arouse you?

Have you shared your sexual fantasies with a friend? What was the reaction?

…it’s pretty across the board.

Have you shared your sexual fantasies with a lover? What was the reaction?

I don’t know if I could be courageous enough to do that.

How important is it for you to share your sexual fantasies? What are your reasons for sharing or not? Does sharing fantasies break their "spell"?

What, if anything, do you find distressing about your sexual thoughts or fantasies? Write about that to clarify it for yourself.

I don’t think they’re special or gossip-worthy or revolutionary or life-changing. They just… are what they are.

If you could say three things to the world about the nature of your personal sexuality and really be heard, understood, and accepted, what would you say?

I’m queer, plus I’m pansexual and polyamorous. Get used to it.

When was the first time you experienced feelings of arousal and what triggered those feelings? What did you think of it at the time? What was your emotional response to those feelings?

The first time I wore a shirt that showed off my belly is another one: I was like four or five, and it felt right to me.

So, I’ve talked about this, how it was cybersex that started life as a tangent during a serious conversation in the wake of tragedy, and—it almost didn’t mean anything to me at the time, especially since it quite literally started as a joke to lighten the mood a bit. Almost, anyway: I didn’t see it as this huge deal like, “oh my gorsh, I just had cybersex!!” But at the same time, I’m always hesitant to talk about it because it hinges on something bad happening (Dan Wheldon was killed and the boy I talked to saw him as his hero, and I talked with him for hours, and it went the way it did). This is something that’s showed up in a number of my fanfics, and it has gotten me called disgusting, too.

Who was your first romantic, sexual partner? What about him or her appealed most to you? What did you hope would happen with that relationship?

Do you believe that sex and emotional intimacy are linked, or is it possible to have a sexual relationship without emotional attachment? What experiences influence your answer?

Linked but not exclusive, though. Casual sex is a thing, plus you can be emotionally attached but not want it; don’t believe everything you see on Twitter (especially now fucking hell). Just… my own observations about this.

If you could have the perfect sex life right now, what would that look like?

Something that lets me go about with my polyamory, I guess? I’m able to be with a man and a woman, or two men and a woman. (I’m just pulling stuff out of my ass here, tbh).

How do you define “awesome” sex (i.e. what makes sex better than good)?

Give me everything I want and maybe something the other person likes, like we’re all pleased—notice I said “all” and not just “both”.

How do you feel about PDA? (You can take this as far as “kinks in public,” too.)

What do you think about when you masturbate?

Last time I did, I didn’t think about anything other than if I was doing it right.

What are your sure-fire turn-ons (and/or turn-offs)?

What are your thoughts about porn?

I still don’t see it as exploitative. One complaint I do have with it is unrealistic expectations. No guy is like that. No girl is like that.

What are your thoughts on foreplay? Favorite types? Best experiences? Wishes?

What parts of your lover’s body are you most drawn to? (If you don’t currently have a lover, feel free to consider past or future lovers.)

“Lover” is another pathetically overused word. My eyes have always wandered to the middle of the body, their belly their hips and their thighs. I like it when it’s nice and slender, like I want to put arms around them there and feel them up, and of course, I like it when it’s a little full and round there (like a nice chubby little belly but he’s healthy as a horse). I like a little chub, and I think some people just look a lot better with it: it makes me want to touch and feel, and they look kind of… I want to say “juicy”. Looking nice and tasty—

If you were to “recreate” the early days of your favorite sexy relationship, what would they look like? Would you change anything?

The beauty of it being online is it’s kind of the whole entire point to it.

What do you want more of in your sex life?

A sex life? But, you know, now that I write this out, like really write it out over and over and over again and not really come up with anything better, i feel bored by the whole sex thing. I have a crazy amount of shame that ruminating on it makes me physically sick, and I feel stuck inside of it, like I can’t get rid of it. I feel like I’m boring and underwhelming, like you would think that someone who identifies as pansexual and polyamorous and has a high sex drive would have at least one conquest but… I’ve just never been respected or built up or even seen. Plus, there’s this whole thing about how women are not supposed to chase, either.

Would you ever visit a sex therapist? What would be the reason and what do you think their advice would be for you?

I’m on the fence. No, because my only real problem is the feeling of safety and wanting to be comfortable. And yes because sometimes a second opinion can help.

Is there anything about sex that embarrasses you, causes shame or fear, or makes you nervous? Or…what’s the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you during sex?

My fear of pregnancy plus I worry about shitting myself.

Just the act itself. I literally can’t imagine anyone being that crazy about me, like I am not beautiful, I am not sexy… and I hate the expectation that comes with those words, like “you’re a woman! Be beautiful and sexy 24/7!” Fuck off. I could go away right now and no one would care or wonder what it would have been like to make love to me or toss a dick in me.

That first time you’re naked in front of them strikes me as nerve-racking, too, like that’s the moment of truth right there: when they see you naked the first time.

What do you tend to fantasize or dream about when it comes to sex? What kinds of porn or kink are you drawn to?

My fantasies are very sensual, almost artsy. There’s a lot of emotion involved, too, even if it’s casual, I still imagine so much emotion in there.

If you were to create a sexy playlist intended for a hot date at home, what would be on it?

So I tried this out yesterday and I got distracted by Queens of the Stone Age’s new album. I have never made a sexy playlist before so I wouldn’t know where to start.

What are your love languages and how do they apply to your sexual needs? What about your lover?

30% physical touch, 27% quality time, 20% words of affirmation, 13% gift giving, 10% acts of service (may have changed a little since I checked that but it sounds about right).

I want touch and time but no one is touching or spending time with me. My needs are a joke.

How do you feel about being naked?

Now, when I think about being naked with someone else, look the other way.

What’s your favorite way to be seduced?

Do you have any trust issues surrounding sex or your sexual relationship(s)?

A feeling of safety is a running theme here. I want to feel safe and comfortable… and I never have felt safe enough to even so much as look at a guy or a girl.

What do you look like, and sound like, when sex feels good for you?

What is the most sexually daring thing you’ve ever done?

Flirted with Alex on stories. I’ve always sucked at flirting (I once went for five years without flirting with anyone because I suck so hard at it), let alone with a guy like him. I love calling him “baby” especially, because he’s sweet and precious like a little baby boy.

Flirted with Eric on stories (I called him “big guy”) and got him to take a selfie from the toilet. Wish I was making that up.

I asked “are we going to see a Jeff Becerra OnlyFans any time soon?” and mf literally replied with “only if the price is right” and the eggplant emoji.

Any time I post risqué art on instagram because they’re complete pricks with that sort of thing.

When now it’s dark was being written and I posted those ink drawings on instagram (completely oblivious to the fact Joey was watching me).

There was also one time in school one of my friends had his pants hanging down a bit and I tried to pants him and he caught me. I did get to pinch his butt when no one was looking, though.

In your opinion, what does it mean to be good in bed?

When everyone is pleased and had their kinks out in the open. I think.

Have you ever had sex in a public place?

Sarcasm aside, why would I do this?

When and how did you lose your virginity, and how did you feel about it? How do you feel about it now?

I’ll probably die a virgin.

Have you ever had sex with more than one person at a time, watched others have sex, been watched? If not, would you?

I’m polyamorous so I’d definitely try it. As for voyeurism… maybe I’d like to be watched? Don’t know about watching others, though.

How often do you masturbate and what works best for you?

I go for long stretches of time without doing it, because I get bored with it. I’ve done it sitting down, standing up, on my back, stooped over, topless, with my pants on, in the shower, in bed… all with my fingers. Toys are one of my biggest hang ups: I used a vibrator one time and I threw it away immediately because it made me uncomfortable. At least with my fingers, I know where it’s coming from. But toys? I don’t know, I’m not really excited by the thought of sticking a piece of silicone or glass or plastic up a very delicate part of my body. I’ve thought about it, for sure, because I’ve changed since that first time.

Maybe I’m just not trying enough, but I look at some on lingerie sites like Spencer’s or wherever, and I shake my head in disgust.

“Find one that’s best for you”, they tell me. Yeah, but nothing here is jumping out at me.

What are you most grateful or thankful for in your sex life?

Can’t say that I’m grateful at all. I’m all about finding joy and pleasure, and I have never found it here. Oh, yeah, i’m totally grateful for something that brings me so much shame that it makes my chest hurt and makes it hard to even get out of bed some days. Oh, yeah, totally grateful for the judgements, the dirty looks, the snickers, the condescension, the guilt, the horrible feelings where there should be pleasure and confidence, what have you.

What is your favorite sexual position, and why?

Officially don’t know anymore.

Have you ever had an “inappropriate” crush? What was it about that person that drew you in, and what made it “not okay”?

All my crushes have been inappropriate lol

They all have been either older, or unavailable in some way like already taken or not interested.

I was never drawn to people at my school, so I looked beyond the borders: older people fit that bill for me.

Have you (or would you) ever tried role play? What roles are you drawn to?

Are you more dominant or submissive (or a bit of both)?

I’d say “domme” but I’m definitely both. Yes, even with as much as I hate the female role and find it restrictive, there’s a sub in me.

How do you feel about your own body?

My hair, though very long, down to the halfway point of my thighs, is very thin at the crown of my head. I’m starting to grow out my bangs and I’m starting to get this Winona Ryder c. Beetlejuice look now.

40ddd chest. A belly covered in stretch marks and was round even when I was thin: it’s even fuller and rounder now. Wide hips and thick thighs—my whole body is thick, though, my measurements are (get ready to faint) 54-43-57. I gain weight easily, almost way too easily—now you know the source of my anorexia and extreme angst.

My lips are small. And plain. Like any man’s dick is going to be a good fit.

I got fat knees. My lower legs are nothing to write home about, neither are my ankles. Slender, bony feet with toes that look like they just came off someone else’s feet.

This body is… I don’t know. Parents called me beautiful but if my piss-poor track record with my peers and crushes and this whole thing here is anything to go by… it should be clear that I have trouble seeing this myself. I only started actually getting hit on very recently, and looking at my appearance when I was a teenager, I did not look good at all. It makes sense that no one ever made a pass on me and I was the only one wearing green.

How sorry do you have to feel for a person having sex with you?

Kind of want to say “not at all”, really want to say “sorrier than sorry”, but I’m a virgin so I have no idea.

Could someone know you sexually, properly know you, and still like you?

If you know me sexually, would you be willing to like me?

#text #journaling #sexuality

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jay-cult · 5 years

Text

Homecoming

Aka, SJ finally makes a movie fic.

Have this little 1200 word oneshot that was inspired by my life currently! I’m in a crisis that’s for sure. Anyway, enjoy :3

Totally PG and also there’s Jaya in it as usual so heads up.

Homecoming

god, I’m done for>

<f dude

Jay put down his phone and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t believe it; junior year of high school had already sprung upon him like a pouncing leopard. Just yesterday he must have been a bumbling freshman, papers flying, late classes he felt like disappearing away from.

But that was, after all, a good thing… it wasn’t exactly why he was headfirst in a problem... the biggest problem ever in his life.

The phone face down on the bed he was sitting on buzzed. Picking it up, he stared at the notifications.

<idk man. we can try to help

<yea

He sighed. Cole and Lloyd were nice to say the least. But Jay was sure that nobody he was good friends with had any experience with girls besides Kai, and well. He’d be sent to hell by the red ninja himself if Kai ever found out about his “motives.” Zane wasn’t much of an option either, since he had a hard time understanding how to talk to even close friends.

Jay laid down fully clothed on the top of his bed, staring at the ceiling. He reached to his desk and for the hundredth time that day double checked if maybe this time, the paper seemed okay enough to give.

Jay grabbed the paper and read it over again.

“Hey there Nya! It’s me, your cool friend Jay :3 you’re going to the homecoming dance right? Don’t suppose you have a date? If not we should go together! Please give this back with an answer :)”

Jay picked up a pencil from his desk and reluctantly erased together. It made it sound a lot cheesier than he had intended.

He still decided it wasn’t good enough, and smacked it back onto his desk.

ill see what i can do tomorrow. after that ill need a FULL advice session>

He looked at the clock. 10:30 pm often marked the time for a sleep attempt before a school day began. Maybe he could get away from this nightmare for a few hours.

Jay downed the last few sips of his coffee and bolted out the front door. If he didn’t leave now, traffic would envelop him like a swarm of wasps. His backpack bounced on his back as he ran to his bike, his scarf flying in the wind.

“Have a nice day at school honey!” He heard a shout from the door.

“I-I will, Mom!”

He climbed onto his bike at lightning speed. Multiple times in the past he had asked his mom why he wasn’t driven to school or took the bus; every time the answer was “You need your exercise to grow up big and strong!” He thought about the computer sitting on his desk that held a much-procrastinated driving course as he sped out of the driveway and into the fray of the road, helmetless.

Minutes later he pulled his bike into the rack, panting. He was early enough to calm down. Jay wearily like so many repeated times before walked up the steps into the school building, going through the assignments that were due in his head for the fourth time that morning.

The school was in its one-week-before-a-dance state. Naturally, it was full of idiots, chatterboxes, and nervous wrecks that were even more active than during finals. He walked down the halls into his first class.

He looked down one hall and saw a sophomore boy in glasses strumming a guitar and looking up at a brown-haired girl, singing a home-posal. “You’re tall and white and pretty, you’re really really skinny…” he sang.

Yeesh, I don’t even wanna know what’s going on over there, Jay thought.

Classes went by in the slowest fashion ever. He saw a friend in them here and there. Finally, the lunch bell gave its holy ring, and he slung his backpack over his shoulder and drowsily snuck out of class.

He saw Kai and Nya casually hanging out together in a corner, probably waiting to meet up with their other friends. Before he knew it, his body was turning in their direction, going Mission: executed mode.

“Hhey, you guys!” He smiled nervously, beginning to shake a bit. Nya raised a hand and smiled. Kai looked at him with what was probably pity.

Nya was typing away at her phone. Jay wasn’t sure what for.

“So it’s just wild that we’re juniors now, huh?” What am I doing?!

Kai nodded. Nya looked up. “Yeah, that’s so crazy! It doesn’t feel like it at all.”

Her eyes gave him a warm welcome before darting back to her phone again. It made him shake a little more.

“Yeah, and th-the dance is coming up and all and…. I dunno… we’re so old now, I think yknow, it’s time for me at least to make the most of it. I-I kinda want a date, haha! Just because we’re older and all and I don’t wanna waste the dances. And all.”

Nya stayed in silence, an uninterpretable silence.

Uh oh. ABORT MISSION. ABORT.

Kai looked up at Jay with a look that definitely spelled disappointment. “Like the homecoming dance?”

Jay stared down at his own feet. “Uh, yeah.”

That’s it, I’m outta here.

“I’ve got a teacher I have to practice work with,” he lied. He waved goodbye and walked away a little too quickly.

Not saying he hid in the bathroom for the rest of lunch, but he totally hid in the bathroom for the rest of lunch.

The rest of the day was even slower, and as Jay finally slid off his bike like jelly and unlocked the front door to his house, he was mumbling to himself, “Yeah, that’s it, I give up, not like she even would say yes anyway, it’s better to just leave the situation alone.”

The door creaked open and Jay was suddenly looking into the faces of four disappointed teenagers. Even Zane was peeking out the doorway with an obviously sad face. Jay looked up and was staring into the eyes of the tiger on the face of the lion. Kai.

Run.

Jay whipped around and started bolting across the street without giving a second thought to look for cars, but a robotic arm extended and grabbed him by the back of his shirt. It pulled him in swiftly, and the door slammed behind him. Jay was released and fell flat on the floor, his keys sliding across the wood.

He sat up, rubbing his head and staring again at Kai. “...It’s not what it looks like?”

“It’s exactly what it looks like,�� Kai sighed, his palm on his forehead.

Zane smiled and took up a chipper voice. “Dude. That was just sad!”

“The face doesn’t really help, Zane,” Jay said.

Cole and Lloyd looked at each other somewhat guiltily. “It’s ok Jay!” Lloyd smiled reassuringly. “Plus it wasn’t even my idea so haha don’t be mad at me! Ow!”

Cole had smacked him on the back, signifying he should get silent.

“You have a lot to learn about my sister,” Kai looked at Jay. He reached out a hand to the blue lump on the floor and smiled.

#tlnm #ninjago #jay #movie!jay #jaya

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missmeikakuna · 5 years

Text

Chad and the Incel Chapter 10

Rated: M

Fandom: Original Fiction (but inspired by the Virgin vs Chad meme)

Relationship type: Male/Male with a bit of Female/Female (the lesbians are adorable, btw) and unrequited Male/Female (in other words, the guys are bisexual).

Description: Chad is, well, a Chad, or at least he looks like one. He’s got his sights set on the cool nerd Becky and enlists the help of her shy incel ex-friend Noah, offering to help him get the gorgeous girl (Stacy) he desperately wants. Noah is reluctant to help, believing that he will be stuck in inceldom forever, but Chad’s interest in his life gives him hope. When their plans go awry, they start turning their romantic attention towards each other.

Content Warning: Given the subject matter, you can guess that this story has dark themes in it, such as suicide and self-harm (plus the mental health issues that often cause them), sexism, slut-shaming homophobia, biphobia and transphobia. There is also swearing and some mentions of sex but nothing too explicit (hence the M rating as opposed to an Explicit rating).

10th Post: [Experiment] (POLL) Should I end it all?

Noah didn’t show up at school, spending all day in bed.

Chad tried messaging him but got no response. As he made his way to his locker during lunch he even tried to call him, but the mocking dirge of four gradually quieting beeps played on the phone.

‘What the hell?’ Chad asked his locker with a hiss. He added, ‘Noah, don’t ignore my calls,’ despite no one being there to hear him.

His shoulders jumped when he felt a slap on the back.

‘What’s up? Hey, where’s your ugly friend?’

Chad whipped his body around and grabbed Tyrone by the collar. ‘Who are you talking about?’ he growled.

Tyrone’s shoulders dropped. ‘Y-you know. Whatshisname, with the weird shirts and the glasses.’

‘Fuck you. You know nothing about him. Absolutely fucking nothing!’

Tyrone held his hands up like a soldier caught by the enemy. ‘Woah, c-calm down, dude! You on your p-period or something?’

Chad raised his fist but didn’t punch Tyrone, opting to drop him instead. ‘You’re not worth it. You’re a pathetic piece of shit who clearly needs glasses himself.’

Now it was Tyrone’s turn to grab Chad by the collar, albeit with a weaker grip. ‘Nobody calls me pathetic. Nobody.’ It took a crack in Tyrone’s voice for Chad to notice that the tiny boy was blinking abnormally fast. ‘And what’s your problem? You were spending all that time with whatshisface and I let you even though you were supposed to be my friend. Why? Because you seemed happy around him. You had this stupid little Grinch-looking grin on your face whenever he came into the room.’

Chad instinctively touched the ends of his lips with his thumb and pointer finger. ‘I did?’

‘Yeah.’ Tyrone let go of Chad’s collar and rubbed the back of his own neck. ‘Look, uh, s…s…’ He took a deep breath before squeezing out what he wanted to say. ‘Sorry for insulting the guy. You know me. I run my mouth a lot sometimes. By the way, what was with the part about me needing glasses?’

‘Nothing!’ Chad croaked as he swiftly turned away from him.

Tyrone shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’ll, uh, leave you to calm down or whatever. I wouldn’t worry too much about the guy. I’m sure he’ll be back tomorrow. Probably spent all night watching whatever he watches.’

Noah did not, in fact, come back to school the next day. Or the day after that. Whenever his mother tried to get him out of bed, he screeched at her to get out of his room.

He was tempted to use his phone to watch YouTube to pass the time but he kept reminding himself of one word. ‘Cope’. Instead he lied down and thought about everything that had gone wrong in his life, from never having had a girlfriend to Chad finding his incel forum account. Though he refused to admit it even to himself, the latter caused an even greater sting in his heart.

After hours of thinking, he mustered up the motivation to stand up and grab his phone. He put up a post to the forum.

Rotcel2003- (POLL) Should I end it all?

It’s over for me. It was over for me as soon as I was born with this deformed face. And now the one girl who I thought I could be with has found this account and is mocking me for it. Should I just end it?

He checked the poll several hours later and became a mess of tears at the results. He was right.

Yes- 102 votes

No- 28 votes

Someone commented an alternative.

Islavistalol- Go ER and kill everyone. Get revenge on the girl who mocked you. Foids deserve the bullet.

He envisioned Chad’s dying face. He had done this in the past with the girls who rejected him or simply didn’t notice him but, for some reason, this time he felt pain more powerful than any pleasure he could feel at the concept of revenge. There was no way he could even attempt what the infamous Elliot Rodger did.

He added one edit to his post.

It’s decided. Goodbye, everyone.

Chad was reluctant to check the forum again. He’d already made enough of a mess. However, as he secretly looked at his phone during a boring class, he gave in and saw Noah’s final post.

‘Shit,’ he murmured as he stood up.

‘Is something wrong, Mr Beaufort?’ the teacher asked but Chad ignored him and raced out of the classroom. ‘Hey, what are you-’

Chad searched through his scrambled mind for a place Noah would commit suicide. Sweat ran down his entire body and his throat felt dry and sore as if he had just screamed for ten hours. His heart felt like it was trying to escape out of his chest and he panted like a wolf in the middle of the desert.

He got into his car and sped away.

He first stopped at Noah’s house and banged on the front door. When no one answered, he took a few steps back and kicked the door open. Noah was nowhere to be found.

He tried the train station but there was no sight of Noah. He went to a bridge where suicide was common and couldn’t find him there either.

He took out his phone and looked up advice on stopping someone from committing suicide. He only skimmed it, barely able to concentrate as memories of Noah flashed before his eyes. One thing that the boy said stuck out.

‘I’d spend the rest of my life here if I could.’

A thorny bouquet of different curse words tumbled from Chad’s mouth. He turned his car around and rushed to the local library with intentional graffiti.

As luck would have it, the door had a ‘closed’ sign attached to it.

Chad repeatedly slammed his hands against the clear doors and, when no one was there to open them, he looked around. He ran around the library until he was behind it, his heart pounding in his ears.

He saw him, dipping his toes into the lake. Chad shivered even though he wasn’t touching the water himself.

‘Noah!’

The boy turned his head, tears in his eyes. ‘Leave me alone,’ he spat. ‘I don’t want to fucking talk to you.’

Chad stepped towards him, careful not to step too close and scare Noah even more. ‘But I need to apologise. I get it. I was shitty. Real shitty. I shouldn’t have tried to meddle so much. But don’t drown yourself over me! I’m not worth it!’

Noah moved out of the lake and stormed up to Chad, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and giving him a murderous glare.

‘You think it’s ‘cause of you? You fucking narcissist. It’s not all about you. I’ve spent years of my life trying to get a girlfriend, and for what? So she can spread her fucking legs for some piece of shit like you? Everyone on that website you fucking spied on me on is right. It’s hopeless for someone like me. I look like shit, and even if I just looked average, girls don’t want an ‘average’ guy. No, they only go for the top 20 per cent of men. Do you think that’s fair, huh? Huh? And don’t try to explain it away by saying, ‘Just have a less shitty personality,’ like you know what oppression is. Fuck off!’ He shoved Chad away.

Chad touched Noah’s arms with shaking hands. Noah’s glare softened at his touch. ‘I don’t know about ‘oppression’, per se,’ Chad said. ‘But I do know what it’s like to be treated badly because of something out of my control. It’s something I’ve tried to keep hidden, so I don’t know what I’d do if I was in your shoes and people found out the truth. That’s why I’m really sorry.’

Noah pushed Chad’s arms away and started walking back towards the lake. ‘I bet your secret’s something small like, ‘A girl rejected me once so I had to go with one of my thirty other options’.’

Chad took a deep breath. ‘More like, ‘I confessed to a guy and got my ribs kicked until they broke and I had to go to the hospital’.’

Noah turned around. He said nothing. He just repeatedly opened and closed his hands as if he was trying to hold onto the air. The wind blew and he wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. Chad stepped closer.

‘And besides, you don’t look like shit,’ he said. ‘I’ve told you this before. You’re hot.’

When Noah put his foot in the water, Chad felt a painful bolt of electricity in his veins telling him to run forward, but he reminded himself of the consequences of trying to rush this.

Noah sighed. ‘Do you think I want to hear that from you? Guys want everything. They’d fuck a walking table if they could. Hearing stuff like that from a guy isn’t the same as hearing it from a soft, feminine femoid…’

Chad had to tune out when Noah started describing the ideal woman. He pictured Noah having sex with a woman and felt like he was going to vomit.

‘… so I don’t want to hear it from a degenerate like you.’

‘Degenerate?’

‘You just told me you’re a faggot.’

Chad felt like slapping himself when his blood started to boil. How could he want to punch someone who was on the verge of suicide?

‘I’m not a faggot,’ he murmured with his head down as he shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘I liked Becky, remember?’

‘I bet that was just a cover-up.’ The more Noah explained, the weaker his voice became, as if his own mind was already arguing with everything he was saying. ‘You just wanted to cope with your degeneracy by acting like a normal person so you could bang a bunch of other Chads behind the scenes. Knowing you it worked. You probably get to sleep with ten men a night just like a femoid. And me? I get to spend the rest of my life not knowing the love of a woman. Or maybe you’re really straight and you’re just coping with Becky rejecting you so you pretended to like me. You wanted to convince yourself you’re happy when you’re really miserable.’

Chad took another step. ‘Is that last bit how you feel... about yourself?’

Noah released a single quick laugh. ‘I’m eighteen for Christ’s sake. Guys half my age are already having sex.’ Chad winced at the thought. ‘If these are the best years of my life, I may as well die now. No femoid is going to wake me up with a kiss and tell me the kids are already up, excited for their Christmas presents. No femoid’s going to cook my favourite meal when I come home from work upset at my boss. And no femoid is ever going to tell me she found this goofy-looking tie and thought of me so she bought it. If I stay alive, I’m going to be a virgin at fifty and everyone’s going to look at me like a worthless waste of space. Humans are supposed to reproduce, right? What’s the use of a man who can’t do that? I’m going to die alone. I just know it.’

Noah submerged his ankles in the water, then his shins. Chad grabbed his arm. ‘What’s your favourite meal?’ was the only question he could come up with in such a short amount of time.

Noah bit his lip. ‘Meatloaf,’ he whispered, looking away from Chad. ‘I know it’s normie shit but Mom makes it with this weird spice that makes it ten times better. I’d… love to ask her what the spice is so I can tell my future wife and she can cook it for me.’

‘You can’t do that if you’re dead.’

After Chad said that he rubbed the back of his own neck. ‘Look, I really hope this doesn’t look like I’m insulting you, but I don’t see the logic in what you’re saying. It seems like you’re taking one thing that’s happening now and convincing yourself that it’s the end of the world. The steps between you not getting laid right now and you dying alone don’t seem to connect. And it’s not like you’re a virgin anymore since we, you know….’

Noah stepped further into the water and Chad pulled him back. ‘Wait! I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry. I’m not trying to, you know, downplay what you’re feeling right now. It’s just that it doesn’t seem very rational and I know you’re the kind of person who believes in logic and reason.’

‘I’m not… rational? I’m very rational. I understand more about the world than some Christian who probably tries to pray the gay away.’

‘That may be true, but right now you’re not acting very rational. It’s like someone’s possessed you and put these thoughts into your head against your will. You’re not really like this, Noah. I know you’re not.’

Chad wiped the tears that were beginning to surface in his eyes. ‘And, to be honest, I’d like to wake you up with a kiss and tell you our future kids are already up for Christmas. I’d like to learn that meatloaf recipe and make it for you after a hard day’s work. I’d probably skip the middleman and ask your mom directly. And I’m probably not good at picking out ties, but I could buy you one if you wanted me to. I’m sure by then I’d know you well enough to know which one to pick.

‘Actually, you know what? It doesn’t matter what I want right now. You’re right, I’m a narcissist. Even if we never got together and I saw you going out with some chick, I’d be happy enough. I’d survive. Even if we never had sex again and I never had sex with anyone else, ever, I’d be okay. Even if I’m fifty years old. If someone looked at you funny for being a fifty-year-old virgin, you know I’d punch their lights out.’

Chad lowered his hand from his tear-stained face and smiled at Noah, pulling him just a little bit closer. He himself stepped closer, trying his best to ignore the coldness circling his feet as the water seeped into his them through the holes in his socks. Noah’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes grew several sizes, his lips pursed and his limbs stiff.

‘You see, even if you don’t get a girl, you’ll still have friends, family and all that good stuff,' Chad assured him in a soft but firm voice, brushing his fingers against Noah’s cheek. 'You’re not a waste of space. It’s just whatever’s possessed your mind telling you that.

‘Look, I’m not too good at talking about this kind of thing. I’m not even sure if I should really be arguing about this with you instead of just listening to you. Maybe you should talk to someone who, I don’t know, gets paid to listen to people going through what you’re going through. They should have better advice than me. Please, just talk to someone about this.

‘And not that forum. I know I don’t know what I’m doing, but I sure as hell know more than those idiots who told you to kill yourself. It’s not like they’re people who have gotten out of your situation. It’s like going to a support group for alcoholics run by someone who’s still an alcoholic and hasn’t gotten help themselves.’

Noah’s mouth opened but he didn’t say anything. His eyes moved from side to side as he contemplated what Chad said. Tears spilled out of his eyes and made his cheeks sting. His nose started to run and he put on a tiny smile. He looked into Chad’s eyes. When he realised that his fingers were still on his cheek, he pushed them away and stepped back. He gasped when the wet earth underneath him started to shift, pulling him into the water. He instinctively reached for Chad’s hand and inadvertently dragged him down with him.

Both were surrounded by pitch black. Noah closed his eyes, tears joining the lake water. Once the shock wore off, Chad looked up at the surface, which had a light he could just barely see. He wrapped one arm around Noah’s waist and when he did so, Noah opened his eyes as if waking from a nightmare. The two swam up together.

Loud gasps for breath echoed throughout the area. Chad hauled Noah onto land and Noah, in turn, pulled him up. They lied down, shivering, on the grass. They breathed heavily as they looked at the sky.

‘I think I should take you to a hospital,’ Chad suggested.

‘Why? I’m not injured.’

‘That’s good to hear. But, I mean, you’re still injured in the mind.’ Chad took his phone out of his pocket and tried to turn it on but the screen remained black. ‘Shit! So, I was on a website that said people who attempt suicide have to go to the hospital, even if they’re not physically hurt.’

‘So I can be shipped off to a madhouse and feel even worse?’

‘Not really. They’ll just check up on you and keep you safe for a night or two. Then we can find you a therapist.’

‘We?’

Chad’s eyes went all over the place. 'Well, yeah. Like I said, even if you don’t want to date me, we’re still a team. I won’t try to meddle too much since you know how that turned out, but you can always talk to me if you don’t like the therapist or whatever, and we can switch ‘em.’ He stood up and held out his hand. Noah hesitated but took it, and as soon as he stood up he started sobbing loudly into Chad’s chest. His shoulders relaxed when Chad put his arms around them and patted his head.

The two walked like this, with Chad still holding Noah close and whispering words of encouragement into his ear. Chad helped Noah into the car and drove him to the hospital while Noah relayed to him the various reasons he attempted suicide. Chad knew most of this, but he listened anyway.

When the doctors took Noah away, Chad sat in the waiting room with knees that repeatedly bounced up and down. He looked around him and felt fear strike his heart when he noticed how plain and lifeless the white walls were. Was this the right environment for Noah?

This fear clawed at his heart for a good half hour until a doctor called out to him and took him to Noah’s ward.

‘You should feel proud,’ the doctor said.

Chad raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m supposed to be proud? What was I supposed to do? Let him die?’

The doctor chuckled. ‘I suppose you’re right.’

‘Am I really allowed to see him this early?’

‘He wanted to see you. He said he’d attempt suicide again if I didn’t let you in.’

Noah’s face was already fresher, though his eyes were still red and puffy. He gave Chad a small smirk.

‘Do I look sexier now in a blue gown?’

Chad sighed in relief. ‘Please don’t tempt me. You’re doing surprisingly well if you can joke like that.’

Noah scratched his cheek. ‘I thought about what you said and you were right. That forum just made me worse. I… I feel like a class-A moron.’ He let tears escape from his eyes.

‘You’re not a moron. You just got sucked into it.’

Noah wiped his eyes and raised his head at the doctor. ‘Uh, can Chad and I speak privately?’ The doctor nodded and closed the curtain. ‘Can you come here?' he asked Chad, who obliged. He held his arm up and, after a few seconds of curling up his fingers, cupped Chad’s cheek. 'Thank you for putting up with me.’

‘I’m not ‘putting up with you’. People don’t just ‘put up with’ the ‘people they love.’

Noah averted his gaze. ‘Love, huh?’

‘Uh, well, um, I meant… I meant to say ‘like’ but I just blurted out that word and I didn’t mean to come across as creepy or too forward or anything like that, uh, so…’

Noah choked out a laugh, his smile like that of someone who had been shot by an arrow that just missed a vital organ. He shifted his hand until it was under Chad’s chin, pulling him a tiny bit closer.

‘Why’d it have to be a guy?’ he grumbled. ‘I never saw my future self liking, or loving, or… whatever... another guy.’

A big, dumb smile adorned Chad’s face. Noah slowly and tentatively pulled him even closer and brushed his lips against his. As he closed his eyes he initially envisioned smoke, but the image quickly evaporated. The kiss was fleeting, but it was enough for now.

#chad vs incel #chad x incel #bisexual #incel #romance #drama #original fiction #breaking stereotypes #lesbian #Chad and the Incel

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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years

Text

Survey #238

“crimson calligraphy written on the trees, creature from the grave, headless and hellbent for me.”

Have you ever played golf? Like, mini-golf. Is there a lake near your house? No, but there's two small ponds down the road. Have you ever made your own pizza or pasta dough? No. Have you ever watched an entire season of a tv show in one day? Uhhhhh how long are the first few seasons of Supernatural? Because Jason and I fucking binged it, and I honestly think that's partially the reason I don't even enjoy TV anymore. Like I liked the show, but jfc it became torture at some point. Not his fault at all, I just never pointed it out. BUT ANYWAY, it's definitely possible we did. What did you have for dinner tonight (or last night)? A ham and cheese hot pocket. Do your parents do things that ‘embarrass’ you? This is so mean, but my mom makes the cringiest jokes and such imo that gives me mad secondhand embarrassment. Do you like any Bon Jovi songs? Yeah, a decent handful. Who was the last person you were in a car with? Mom. Do you give people second chances? Ha, more than "second." How’re things between you and your most recent ex? We're totally great. Really as if we didn't even break up, considering I mean... nothing emotionally has changed. We just know that being together right now isn't the wise decision. It's frustrating as hell, though. We've already established we're not going to "wait" for each other, but neither of us are actively looking for a new partner, either. I want her, and from what I can tell, she wants me, too. We kinda just... don't talk about how unfair it all is anymore because we both get too upset. I was even supposed to go up there with her and her fam for her birthday and Christmas, but that's changed because she and I agree it's too soon after splitting, making it only more difficult to be around each other. We'd want to cuddle and kiss and such by instinct, so we're trying to wait until the wound isn't as fresh. Though honestly, I don't know how visiting period would go consider as said, there has been zero change in romantic attraction. Ugh yeah I just hope she figures out what she wants and all and we can get back together. Have you been to a wedding this year? No. I'm going to my half-sister's next year, though. Are you an aunt or uncle? Yes, and another niece is on her way. :') Do you expect to be married in the next two years? Probably not. What season is your birthday in? Winter. Have you ever been hunting? Fuck that shit. How often do you walk around barefoot? Always in my own house + in other houses if I'm allowed to take my shoes off. When you eat take-out, do you just eat it out of the containers provided? Usually, but it does depend on what food it is. Ex., those little boxes that have rice in them from Chinese places? I'm using a bowl. From the container is just messy. Would you need to sleep with someone before considering marrying them? Nah. Do you carry condoms? No. Would you date someone who has a hearing aid? ... Yes...? "No" is just... so rude?? Like that is something the person absolutely cannot help, nor is it a HUGE thing. It's just a hearing aid, dude. How organized are the files on your computer? Pretty decent. Folders and such. Could be better still, probably. Have you ever been to a strip club? Nah, not my scene. Have you ever brought home a stray animal? Pleeeeenty of cats. Are you physically strong? No, especially not my legs. I've got a newborn fawn's legs, jc. Still working on building the muscle back up. Would you date someone with braces? Oh my god, fuck off. Yes I would. I was the person with braces dating someone without them, so 1.) I obviously can't say shit, 2.) they're taking care of their goddamn teeth, and 3.) I dunno, wearing braces has no goddamn impact on personality???????????? Does scuba diving interest you? Not to an incredible degree, but it'd be cool. Would you ever ask your parents for relationship advice? Maybe for certain topics. Do you think people look up to you? Y'know that "oh no hunty WHAT is u doin" meme??? That's me if someone does. How often do you have trouble sleeping at night? *blinking* There are people who don't??????? Do you blush easily? Ohhhhhh yes. Do you get angry at yourself or at others more often? Hm. Not sure. Can you name five current world leaders? AHAHA nope. How many times have you had the flu? Zero. Do you think imagination is valuable? Oh hell yes. We would be NOWHERE CLOSE to where we are as animals without it. Who or what are you most impatient with? I don't know. When was the last time you mowed a lawn? Never. Have you seen all of the Star Wars films? No; seen only the first three with a friend and saw zero appeal. He didn't either. How about all of the Harry Potter ones, so far? I haven't even seen one. Jason and I started the first one together but. Paid way more attention to each other than the movie lmfao. What part of the newspaper do you typically enjoy reading? None. I collect my school's papers now though 'cuz I'm the photographer for it. :') Have you ever made a website, even a simple one? Four that I remember. The ancient and now-defunct ones were back when I think this site called Wetpaint was a host for simple sites, and a lot of us RPers posted our mob info and stuff there. I had one for Talons, one for Connrads. Ha, out of curiosity, I think I looked for them not all too long ago since I never actually deleted them, but I think the site itself was re-purposed. NOW, I have a Wix site for my photography, and then Kalahari Manor is a ProBoards-hosted site. Which was better: your childhood or your teen years? Jfc, childhood. Teen years were a chaotic and rancid cesspit in terms of mental health. What was your reaction to your first time falling in love? I truly imagine that realizing I was *in love* with Jason surpassed what a high probably feels like lmao. What does it take for someone to win your heart? I'm actually putting thought into this one and I think what appeals to me in a person most is just being friendly with a good sense of humor and obvious, shameless concern for others. AND JFC, HAVE EMOTION. Don't be a brick wall with me. Lacking an emotional side, positive or negative, is such a turn-off to me. I'm not attracted to robots. Being a gentle person is important, and for me personally, you need to actually act like you're into me. Not just between us. Do not make me a secret. AND BE CREATIVE AND WEIRD AND FRESH!!!!!!!!!!! There's nothing wrong with more "vanilla" people, but just for me myself, I need someone who stands out for some good reason. lol okay this answer's actually getting kinda long, I'll stop. There's a number of ways. What is one thing you would rather be doing? Ha ha yo real talk, Sara and I are getting all emotional and deep into our relationship, platonic or romantic, and I want me and her in her bed right now tearing each other up alsdkjfla;kwejre I love her a lot ok. When was the last time you changed your mind about something? OKAY SO I started a new birth control, right? It. Sent. Me. BACK. With my PTSD. How? Idfk, but I was suddenly obsessing over Him again, badly. I stopped that shit, and wha'd'ya know, two days later, I'm like "lol wtf I don't want him why did that just happen hunty was u ok????????". SO YEAH, that was a trip. Do you know anyone with a lisp? I'm not sure. Possibly. How much weight can you lift at once? No clue. Not a lot. Do you ask guys out, or wait for them to ask you out? I've never asked a guy out, but I wouldn't say I wouldn't. Do you like the last person who showed interest in you? I love her. Describe the last person you stared at? I have no idea. Do you like dating one person at a time, or multiple people? I'm personally monogamous. Have your experiences made you more or less sympathetic to others? MORE. Do you find smoking unattractive? I do. Have your parents ever searched your personal belongings? Mom has. Where did you get your last bruise from? ... Well. This is uh. Awkward. Tying into when I was on that medicine that made my libido fucking uncontrollable (thank the fucking lord I'm back to normal), my breasts are lookin rough, sister. Are you looking forward to anything? Nothing in the VERY near future, I think. A bit further off, Christmas. I can't wait to see the kids so excited again, and for once, we come together as a true family. Plus my #1 wish is to have my Mark tattoo improved at an amazing parlor, and I'm pretty sure that'll be happening, just obvs. not on Christmas Day itself. I'll just be fuckin STOKED when I *know* it's happening. Do you have a good relationship with your parents? Yes. How much money did you spend today? $1.25 for something from the vending machine. I didn't have breakfast, so I was really hungry. When you’re bored in class, what do you usually do? Try to not doze off. If we're not doing anything, then I'll play around with my phone. Have you ever had a song stuck in your head for more than a day? Oh, definitely. Ever walked into the guy’s bathroom? HA as a stupid elementary school with her friends, we sure did during a work day (my mom used to work with special ed kids at school). We thought we were soooo rebellious. How many wives or husbands do you want? One. What happens if you fall in love with your best friend? Ha, did. I still am, and we hope to be back together someday. Has a teacher ever flirted with you? Not that I know of. Thankfully. Is it okay for friends to kiss each other, as friends? It's not my thing, but sure, if it's consenting and both are aware it's platonic. Do your wishes ever get granted in the worst way possible? Probably in some way at some point I don't recall. How do you feel about your naked body? NONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO Have you ever been called obnoxious? I don't think so, anyway. Do you wish you had a bigger family? No. Which friend would you kiss full on the mouth, no questions asked? Sara. Can you do a split or stick your foot up next to your ear? Nope. When was the last time you complained about something? I was venting some mild frustration to Sara earlier tonight. What is your favorite color combination? Favorite is probably pastel orange and light blue. Love it. Then there's pastel pink and purple. Okay pretty much any combination is about the pastels When was the last time you spoke in front of a group? A month or so back when I had to do my Lifeline presentation in FYS. Do you like group projects, or do you prefer to work alone? I strongly prefer working alone. There's no disagreements, compromises, incompetent partners, etc. Have you ever been told you were going to Hell? Yup! (: Indirectly, but. How did you respond? I don't recall, but I wish I did. Who is the most argumentative person you know? She's not in my life anymore partially BECAUSE of that shit. Do you know anyone who is crazy about proper grammar? Yes, but she has OCD as a valid reason. I'm pretty particular about it too to a degree. Who was the last person to make you feel special? Oh my gosh, my therapist told me she was so proud of me and the progress I was making that I just entirely lit up and became a total beaming ball of giggles and "thank you"s. Would you feel funny if you kissed somebody of the same sex? No, I'm bi. If your best friend grabs your hand, what do you automatically do? Squeeze it. What’s something you can cook or bake like a pro? Cheesy and spicy scrambled eggs, man. Also known as the only thing I can properly cook lmao. Do you tend to flirt a lot, even when the person isn’t single? Fuck no, if they're not single. I'll flirt with my s/o when I see it appropriate or relevant, and in a case where we're both single, I'd be very subtle about it because shy. What’s something that you think is really cute? Off the very top of my head, the Ewoks from Star Wars, oh my fucking god. They were the only thing I enjoyed in the movies. What’s a pretty bird? I mean... pretty much all of them. BUT, can we take a moment to appreciate the bearded vulture? like???? they're fucking BADASS???????????? Besides sleeping, what do you do in bed? Almost... everything. It's the reason I endured/am still recovering from muscle atrophy in my legs. Have you ever hacked into somebody’s account? Playfully, back when that was a thing for friends to do and post lovey-dovey stuff about them everywhere. Megan and I, and I believe Mini and I as well, did it to each other. Possibly more. Is having to pee really badly worse than being really thirsty? Oh hell yes it is. The former can get to a point of hurting. Have you ever touched a Qu'ran? No. Do you love animals more than most? Oh definitely. Why do you eat fast food? It's easy to grab when on the run, and Mom has almost zero time to cook. Then we both have school. Most often I just warm things up in the microwave or grab something substantial enough in the fridge. Is there always going to be that one person you and a friend makes fun of? I guess you could say indirectly, yes. Just something she said in a certain way became an inside joke. Her as a person, no, I wouldn't do that. What is a bad habit of yours that you’re actually trying to fix? Having terrible eye contact. I have a very hard time maintaining it, but I've been trying to keep that weakness in mind when talking to people. Do you write out your feelings? That's one reason why I take these surveys, yes. Do you have bills to pay yet? It's embarrassing that I don't. Not saying like, I want to pay bills, what madman would, but I do want to feel more like a proper, independent adult. Will you be changing your hair any time soon? Not the style, but one thing I'm asking for Christmas is a professional to dye my hair silver. I say pro because my hair does NOT hold color, and because of the bleach needed, Mom's concerned I'll damage my hair if I put my trust into anyone less qualified. Does your mom have a celebrity look-alike? I don't think so, but she looks UNCANNILY like her firstborn daughter. It is SCARY. Is there something you wish you could learn to do? There's loads of stuff. Probably above all, cook. Or stop procrastinating. If you could be amazing at ONE thing, what would it be? Drawing precisely what I see in my head. Because of how important they are to me, I would pay BIG FUCKING BUCKS to get how my 'kats look onto paper. What do you wish people would pay you to do? Complain about my weight. :^) I'd be able to just pay for surgery to fix that within a day. Do you take good pictures? I personally think I do. I mean I wanna be a professional photographer. How would one go about impressing you? It depends on the subject and difficulty of whatever. What probably impresses me most would be someone maintaining a mature, peaceful attitude when there is reason to act otherwise. Self-control, that's it. Do you automatically apologize if you walk into somebody? Duh? Tell me a memory of this summer: It was fucking scorching and I hated every minute of it. What’s something that you don’t need, but really want? Hmmmm. OH, HELL YES. IF I had the proper body to even remotely pull them off, I. Would wear. NOTHING. But corsets. Jesus FUCKING Christ they are so hot. What do you draw more than anything else? Just about all I draw is meerkats. What’s the most favorite class you’ve ever had? The Digital Photography course I took in high school. Or Art Honors my junior year. I really enjoyed the stuff I made. For each person you’ve kissed, describe your feelings in one word: Jason: melancholy; Tyler: dramatic; Girt(?): loyal; Sara: ideal. How do you react when you trip or stumble? Gasp and carry on. If it was a more serious trip, I look around at who saw. Are you good at “biting your tongue”? NO. Why do you love the one you do? She's been there for me without fail, has undying faith in me, supports me through everything, is honest, she's funny and very unique, her adoration for animals shows a great level of compassion, she trusts me so much despite her history, she stands extremely firmly for what she sees as right and wrong... okay I can honestly write an essay on why I love her. Would you rather get [another] tattoo or piercing? GIMME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 THE TATTOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1111111111111111111 Do you have long or short legs? I'd say they're normal, idk. When do you listen to Nickelback? *shrugs* When I wanna? Would you rather make the first move, or your crush? Them. I'm shy.

#survey #quiz #questions #random #bored

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scripttorture · 5 years

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How much do you know about torture apologia at a government level? Like people who are actually paid to torture terrorist? I feel like that is a government-approved thing unless I’m mistaken. How can they not see they’re getting no information or just plain wrong information? And these ‘professionals’ are hiding their mental health problems? Or is the FBI torturing terrorists for information not as real as we are lead to believe? I’ve got a story idea about a victim mistakenly accused.

Thisis a pretty broad question. And it also sounds like it’s trying tostart a debate over getting writing advice. I’m going to give itthe benefit of the doubt and take it at face value as a writingquestion.

Ithink the short answer is essentially: read Rejali. He covers this inconsiderable depth, it’s the last third of his book. I’ll do mybest to summarise his points but I can’t produce 300+ pages ofevidence plus sources on a blog like this.

O’Maraalso talks about it a fair bit and Cobain’s entire book is aboutthe links between torture and the British government. Granted Cobaindoesn’t know a thing about torture but the pattern of legalwrangling and political apathy he records is incredibly valuable.

Thereare a couple of points I think are important going forward.

Thefirst is that although information is often the justification givenfor torture it’s rarely the point.

Somethingcan be justified, ignored or tolerated in someparts of a government and stringently punished in other areas.

Inlarge enough organisations leaders can be genuinely unaware what somemembers are doing.

Sogiven those points let’s start with the second question becauseit’s easiest.

Inmodern democracies people are notpaid to torture. That is not their official role. They are hired asguards, soldiers, teachers, care takers, nurses, doctors, police anda handful of other professions.

Thatis they are being paid for.And it’s not what they’re doing.

Whetherwhat they’re actually doing (torture) is condoned by anyone furtherup the chain of command then their immediate superiors is reallydependant on the circumstances. And very difficult to prove.

Governmentapproval of torture in modern states rarelylooks like top officials saying ‘We torture people!’

Here’sthe kind of phrasing it looks like instead:

‘These particular set of abuses are not torture because-’

‘This isn’t really painful’

False equivalence such as ‘Well I diet voluntarily so starving someone can’t be harmful’

Outright denial ‘Our troops could never do that!’

Ouright denial Part 2 ‘Well no one told us that was happening!’

Shifting the blame ‘Those people are lying to get into the country/get money/get attention etc-’

Shifting the blame Part 2 ‘Those people deserve it because they’re mentally ill/an ethnic minority/poor/violent/look like trouble etc-’

‘Obviously we don’t torture people but we should because it would work!’

‘We need strong measures in these desperate times!’

The sort of political/cultural outlook that links efficiency to ‘toughness’ and sees kindness and compromise as weak

Tortureapologia on the government level thrives on plausible deniability andredefining terms until they’re unrecognisable.

Forthe purposes of your story I think you’d probably be better offstepping back from the FBI.

WhatI mean by that is- if you’ve been looking for sources specificto the FBI that’s why you’re so confused. Those sources arepoorly collated, poorly studied and (personal opinion) deliberatelyconfusing.

Awellstudiedwell recorded example of torture as unofficial-government-policywould be the Franco-Algerian war. And this is alsobeset by confusion because a lotof the sources from the French side were written by torturers tojustify their actions after the event.

Onceagain I’d recommend reading Rejali and for greater context on whathe says Alleg’s TheQuestionand Fanon’s appendices to TheWretched of the Earth.

Yestorture continues because of governmental positions. But that doesn’tnecessarily mean outright orders to torture.

Itcan mean a lack of political will to eradicate torture, ie no one islooking for it. It can mean officials being aware of torture andchoosing to ignore it.

Myimpression is that apathyrather than malice at the top levels is the key. In the worst cases,yes there was outright malice from some individuals within a largergovernment. But it’s the apathy of the majority that allowed forabuse.

Governmentapproval doesn’tlook like a high level official ordering troops to torture.

Itlooks like the state Governor seeing that most of the police in theirstate probably use torture and sitting down to do this calculation:‘Am I more electable next year if I try to tackle this or if Iignore it?’

Italso looks like a Commissioner seeing that a person arrested for anemotive crime like terrorism has been complaining of ill-treatmentand doing this calculation: ‘Do I look better in the public eye ifI seem like I’m standing up for a person from a hated minority whois accused of doing something awful?’

WhatI’m driving at here is that- the reality is a lot more nebulousthen what you seem to be thinking of. Tacit acceptance, differentpriorities, cowardice- are all much more likely then the kind ofscenario where the elites explicitly order abuse.

Ithink I should move on to the third question which is just as tricky,before I get bogged down in labouring the point.

Howdo organisations not realise the information they get from torture iswrong?

Theshort answer is that by using torture they destroy the systems thatallow them to double check information. Because they can’t doublecheck anything they don’t realise that they’re working withincorrect information.

Iwilltell you how that happens but let’s have an analogy first to giveyou an idea of how skewed this makes the base information.

Imagineyou’re looking for information on the internet about something youhaven’t seen but you can’t use wikipedia, any popular searchengines or any official sites. You are going entirelyby searching tumblr. And you can only access the first piece ofinformation that comes up with any tag you search.

Picka popular fandom and imagine the kind of screwed up view you’d getof a character if you tried to find information about them like this.I am picturing the Flash fandom and Captain Cold and imagining justhow easy it would be to walk away with the impression that thecharacter was a main character not a bit part.

Nowlet me show you how including torture in an investigation is theequivalent of blocking yourself from everything but a hellsite with abroken search algorithm.

Sothe first thing to appreciate is that torture breakstrustwith the public. If torture is common place then no matter how‘secret’ an organisation tries to keep it the groups who areeffected find out.

Wenotice when people around us go missing. We pay attention when thereare stories of people ‘like us’ being hurt.

Andwe lose trust in authority. We stop reporting crimes. We stopvolunteering information.

Whichcuts an organisation off from the mainsource of accurate information they can get: voluntary reporting bymembers of the public.

Wedon’t report strange things our family or friends have done if wethink it might get them tortured. We don’t mention that we saw atall ginger man leave a back pack on that street near where the bombwent off.

Frompersonal experience- sometimes you stop reporting things even whenyou’re completely outside the context that taught you organisationscan’t be trusted. I’ve been assaulted in the UK and genuinely didnot consider calling the police. Because I learnt young that policeexist to ‘make people disappear’ and the habit is hard to break.

Thesecond point is that torture produces a lotof lies and human beings generally are terrible at telling whensomeone is lying.

Sotorturers don’t have access to the biggest source of accurateinformation but they dohear a lot of lies.

Thethird point is that when torture becomes part of an organisation thenpeople spend lesstimeconducting genuine investigations and fact checking.

Torturerstend to be pretty arrogant and they usually report looking down onpeople in their organisation who don’ttorture. Basically they seeing doing the hard work of a genuineinvestigation as boring and beneath them.

Thisworks togetherwith the first two factors to make it almost impossible to fact checkthings.

Imaginea group of 50 people tasked with investigating a particular incident.Five of them are torturers, so they’re not actually investigatinganything. This takes our number down to 45.

Thenwe remember that the torturers are generating information, even ifit’s false. Which the other members are investigating.

Let’sgo with low estimates. Let’s suggest each torturer has one victim aday (this is unlikely, real numbers are probably much higher) and outof those they get an average of two ‘possible leads’ each day(this would vary a lot, some victims would say nothing, some mightthrow out as many as twenty names in a day). Let’s also pretendthat a potential lead can be investigated by one person (this isinaccurate, I’d generally expect at least 2-3 people for each new‘lead’.).

We’vejust got rid of ten more people on the first day.

Let’spretend that it takes three days to investigate a lead. This is alsoa very low estimate, properly following up a lead can take weeks.

Withour low-estimate fictional organisation we’ve reduced the amount ofpeople doing useful work to 15 in the first three days.

Fifteenpeople trying to do the work of 50, while the torturers keepgenerating lies that are wasting the time of everyone else.

Thiscripples the organisation’s ability to work as all the time andenergy is going into investigating lies.

Andwhilethis is going on the torturers are still torturing. And they’reassumingthat their information is correct.

Sothey’re generating morelies that supportthe previous lies.

Letme give an example of what I mean.

Saya torturer takes in a random person. This first victim knows nothingabout the terrorist group but if they don’t give a name thenthey’re going to keep being tortured.

Sothey tell the torturer Wednesday Adams is definitely the leader ofthe terrorists in this area.

Nowa genuine investigator is wasting time looking for Wednesday Adams.May be they come back in a week and say that no such person exists.

Bythat point the torturer has been asking a lot of people aboutWednesday Adams. And some of them will have sworn they saw WednesdayAdams, that Wednesday Adams was behind that attack and that she haslinks to this other organisation and also that thing I saw on thenews once and- So on.

Itspirals.

Maybe it gets to the point where the torturer finally accepts there’sno ‘Wednesday Adams’ on the census. But by that point they’vestacked a lot of their personal reputation on the existence of thisshadowy leader.

Sorather than admit they’re just wrong, they assume ‘WednesdayAdams’ is a pseudonym and now they’re asking everyone what herreal name is. Now they have six different possible ‘realidentities’ for Wednesday Adams.

Andthis is how organisations can fail to notice that torture doesn’twork.

Becausethe scale of misinformation is just so huge. Because the amount oftime it takes to provethe information is wrong gives the torturers more time to embellishthe lie.

Becausesuperiors who are genuinely unaware torture is going on in theirorganisations might well look at this torturer, who keeps coming upwith new information, and these ten genuine investigators who comeback with nothing but dead ends, and decide that the tortureris the only one ‘getting things done’.

Itdoesn’t matter that they’re wrong. Because it takes months,years, to prove that they areand everyone in these organisations is under huge pressure to haveanswers now.

OKlet’s move on to question four; mental health problems intorturers.

Firstoff, I have yet to meet a mentally ill person who hasn’ttried to hide their mental health problems at some point. The worldis not very accepting of mental health problems whatever the context.The pressure to hide them is immense. In some places people are atreal risk of violence and abuse if their mental health problems arenoticed as mental health problems.

Inthat context- it isn’t surprising that torturers do try to hidetheir symptoms.

Thetoxic sub-culture torturers tend to produce is- It’s incrediblymacho. It tends to rely on ideas about how the torturers are ‘toughand strong’. It equates violence and lack of mercy with strength.

Itviews mental illness as weak.

Andbecause the people within these groups are violent, because they havea tendency to turn on each other, there’s a huge pressure to hidemental health problems. That’s way before you bring the widerorganisation into the picture.

Manyof the organisations torturers are typically part of actively try toscreen out mentally ill people. Being obviously mentally ill can meanlosing the job.

SoI don’tthink it’s particularly unusual that torturers try to hide mentalhealth problems.

Howsuccessfulthey are at hiding them is a different question and it’s difficultto answer.

Becausea lot of people are moved or dismissed on mental health grounds andthis does notmean they were involved in anything abusive.

Tortureis difficult to prove. Most torturers are not charged. Their crimesare not recorded as part of their record. They are not hired astorturers.

Accordingto the WHO around 10% of the global population has a mental health problem.

Howdo you tell the difference between the people who are just mentallyill, the people who developed mental illnesses because of ‘ordinary’job stress and the people who developed mental illnesses because theyabused others?

Withoutaccurate, fair recording of torture accusations itis impossible to tell.

Personally?I think it’s highly likely that a lot of torturers can’t hidetheir mental health problems well. That they reach a point and have abreakdown on the job. Then they lose their job.

Butall of that can happen with no record of abuse.

Weneed more research on torturers. Desperately.

Andanswering these questions about the circumstances around how peoplestop is incredibly important. It can help us spot them, it can helpus spot people who might be targeted for recruitment by torturers. Itcan help us stop torture.

Andright now there are frustratingly few answers.

Whichleaves the final question- Are the FBI torturers?

Honestly-I have no idea. I am not particularly interested in America orAmerican history. I am not American. I do not go out of my way toread things about the FBI and could tell you very little about whatthey do.

WhatI can tell you is that organisations likethe FBI have usually tortured at some point in their history. Thatglobally the United States has developed a reputation for doublestandards.

ButI can not make a definitive statement on a group I know next tonothing about.

Inorganisations likethe FBI iftorture is going on it’s often not in the entire organisation. Itis often particular branches, particular units, particular areasrather than the whole country-wide organisation.

It’seasy to make broad statements like ‘the Chicago police torturedpeople in 70s’. And that’s not untrue.

Butif we’re being specificit would be more accurate to say ‘there was a cell of torturersoperating within the Chicago police force in the 70s and the widergroup failed to stop them.’

Wasthe entire Chicago police force responsible for the abuses? I wouldsay yesbecause it was literally their job to stop these abuses and they didnot. However they were notall torturers. They were not all actively engaged in torture and Ithink it’s extremely likely that many people at the time simplydidn’t realise what was going on.

Incompetence,not necessarily active abuse.

I’vewritten an awful lot. It should be a start at answering some of yourquestions. But all of these questions are complex and difficult.

Idon’t think, in this case, you can take my answer as a substitutefor wider reading.

Onceagain, Rejali.O’Maraas well.

Allegfor the survivor’s perspective on what both describe.

Cobain,to be taken with a pinch of salt and read afterRejali because Cobain is not a scientist and falls for apologia quitea lot.

You’vechosen to tackle a story that’s going to be a lot of work. Try notto be discouraged by that.

Theseare important stories. And they deserve to be told properly.

Ihope that helps. :)

Edited for typos

Edit 2: @dude1818 That is really not funny and I don’t appreciate you trying to turn discussion of a serious crime into a joke.

I’m aware of the formatting problem and I’ve been trying to fix it for some time. I’m going to try another fix this week but I can’t actually test whether any of my attempts work because I don’t have a mobile phone.

Availableon Wordpress.

Disclaimer

#tw torture #behaviour of torturers #writing torturers #torture does not work #torture as interrogation #torture apologia #torture apologists #effect of torture on organisations #tw police brutality #Anonymous

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hey-hey-chan · 6 years

Text

Coffee vs Scantrons - Changbin

❀ College AU + Fluff

❀ Word count: 3.2 K

❀ Your grades are consistently being one bad after another, and you’re not here for it. You decide to take matters into your hands and meet your teacher during office hours... but unexpectedly, one of your classmates is there as well and invites you to coffee to repay a favor. You’re not jumping for joy since the boy doesn’t have the best reputation in your class, but will you forever be annoyed by his rambunctious nature, or fall for his boyish charm as the class goes on?

❀ A/N: ... i don’t even like coffee, i need to stop writing about it. also shoutout to my number one hype woman ruby who misses my writing and motivated me to write this,,, this one for u <3 also this is unedited. im sorry my writing is so bad,,, iM RUSTY

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“Ok, don’t tell me if the grade is bad though.”

I planted my hands over my eyes while I shoved my test at my best friend, Euna. She grabbed the test and put it face down so she couldn’t see it either and rolled her eyes at me.

“C’mon y/n, it probably isn’t even that bad. Like you’re a smart girl, missus straight A.” I groaned at her comment and kept my eyes closed.

“Shut up. I have gotten a... B before. But, seriously just tell me if I should look or not.” Joy just shook her head and look at my test grade. I immediately noted how her features shrunk together and her eyes turned to me sadly. I frowned at her expression.”w-what, is it THAT bad?”

She pushed the test towards me and there and behold a C- staring at me. I sighed and tried to push the image out. I peeked over at her test score and saw a big fat A taunting me. I wasn’t jealous. I was just disappointed in myself.

...And a tiny bit jealous.

I groaned and shut my eyes again, hoping I wouldn’t start to cry in the middle of my business class.

“Hey, it’s okay, we have more tests and Professor Lee is a really good guy, it’ll all work out.” Her advice went in one ear and then out another.

Yes, a C was passing, but I don’t want to just pass, I want to excel. Plus, my mom would kill me if I got a C, especially because I dropped another one of my classes during the quarter. I had no excuses now.

“Hey.. hey!” My friend snapped me out of my trance while I just shook my head at her. “Y/n, why don’t you just meet with him after class and get help?”

I took a big gulp of water, hoping it would calm my nerves. It didn’t.

“Well, the point is is that I feel like I’m not even struggling.. yet the results I get back are not what I expected. I don’t know what to ask him.” I confessed babyishly. I felt like I was whining for no reason.

Euna shrugged and packed up her backpack and headed out the door, which made me run to catch up with her.

Before I could head out the door, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I skittishly turned around and was now locking eyes with Seo Changbin, the class clown who happened to be incredibly smart and cute to say the least. I always had a small problem with him.

“Uh, hey, I borrowed a scantron from you the other day, right?” I nodded my head. He gave me a sheepish smile and I knew what was coming. “I’m sorry, I forgot to bring an extra one for you-” Before the boy could finish his sentence, I waved him off.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to pay me back, it’s just a scantron.” I quickly said. Honestly, I was a bit irritated since scantrons are not the cheapest thing, also this is business, I should’ve charged him for it. But I was too nice to be a businessman.

I turned and walked out the door before he could say anything else and caught up with Euna.

The girl was already out the door and waiting for me with a smirk upon her lips.

“What?” I barked. She pulled on her rain jacket and gave me a suspicious look.

“He totally likes you.” I felt my face turn red at her statement but it was a foolish thought.

“You’re so wrong, he has a bunch of other girls he talks to. Plus, we have never talked before.” Euna shrugged and walked faster so that I had to speed up my pace.

“Well, he at least thinks you’re cute. Did you see his blush?” I raised a brow but didn’t want to egg her on.

“Whatever, think what you want, loser. Focus on Heejun instead.” The girl gasped and slapped my arm lightly while I laughed. Heejun happened to be the boy she was crushing on, but was about 4 years older. It was ... weird.

“Shut up, don’t come running to me when you discover lover boy likes you.”

I scoffed and pushed the thought out of my head immediately.

Changbin doesn’t like me. And I won’t give him a chance to.

-----

Professor Lee’s office hours were from 7:30-8:30 am. I had to take the 7am bus to come to school during that time, which means I slept on the bus and almost missed my stop. Thankfully my body naturally wakes up at the rough turn.

I stepped out into the cold air and wondered if my business grade was even worth the trouble. Ok... it definitely was. But not at 7am.

I walked up the steps into the building and found his office number. I took a deep breath, not even feeling my anxiety due to the cold, and knocked on the door.

I waited a few seconds before walking in. I saw my professor sitting quietly, typing away on his computer.

“Hi Professor Lee.” I greeted. He turned quickly and gave me a bright smile, which was unsettling since it was 7am.

“Hey! What can I help you with?” He said brightly. Suddenly my fear of meeting him washed away.

“Um, so I just haven’t been doing so well on the tests and I was wondering if you could clarify some terms for me?” He nodded and pulled out a chair for me. I got my notes out while he finished typing an email up.

“So, how’s it being up at 7am?” He asked suddenly. I let out a nervous chuckle as I swear I could see my breath in his ice cold office.

“It’s... a new experience. I used to wake up at 6:30 for classes, but that was last year. Now my first class is at 9, so I feel like a slug to be honest with you.” He let out a loud laugh, making me feel more welcome.

“I get that, but I’m an old man, and I love sleeping early and waking up early.” I let out a small smile.

“Yeah, I am usually an early bird too... but I like to wake up early and do nothing.” He chuckled until I held my notes out to me. “So uh, I’m not really understanding 5 styles of leadership and how they relate to Maslow’s hiearchy of needs. Like I understand the 2 separately, but now how the connect.” I explained.

He nodded and wrote all of them down. “So, autocratic, bureaucratic...”

He went on and on about different questions I asked him about business, but they still felt fuzzy to me. I also learned things I didn’t know before, showing how I wasn’t as good as business as I thought.

“So, what are your favorite movies?” He asked when I was done asking him questions about business.

“Hmmm... right now, it’s The Polar Express?” He laughed loudly and shook his head.

“It’s only November and you’re thinking about Christmas movies?” I nodded frantically.

“Of course! I’m always thinking about Christmas movies because Christmas is my favorite holiday.” I grinned just thinking about sitting next to my TV and drinking hot cocoa as the snow falls. School will me put on pause and I’ll finally be done with college apps; sounds heavenly.

“Agreed, I love Christmas too.” I heard a deeper voice come from behind me, making me swivel around. And just my luck, Changbin was leaning against the doorway like he was cool or something. He gave me a quick smile until he turned to face Professor Lee.

“Hey James, I came to turn in that assignment I missed last week.” Changbin handed him a white paper and I grew curious about how close the boy was to our professor since he called him by his first name.

“Ah yes, how did your job interview go anyways?” Changbin’s smile brightened up and I felt his ego expand.

“Amazing, I got the job.” He high fived Jame’s hand and backed away. Then he turned to me and gave a look of guilt. “Oh gosh I’m sorry, was I interrupting something?” I shook my head and Prof. Lee did too.

“Nah you’re all good, I was just about done too. See you later Professor Lee.” I turned to walk out the door and unfortunately, Changbin was going the same way.

“Hey, you’re y/n, right?” I nodded, a bit, ok a lot, surprised that he knew my name. “Cool cool, sorry I’m bad with names.”

“No big deal.” I hated how I was so cold to guys, and only guys. There’s something about boys like him who make me put this wall up.

“So the Polar Express huh?” Now that caught my attention as I raised a brow.

“Yup, one of my favorites. Brings back all the Christmas feels I know and love.” The boy nodded enthusiastically.

“True. Classics give you those feel good vibes.” I nodded, unsure how to respond. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot, I forgot to give you your scantrons back right?” I shrugged.

“It’s just one-”

“Well how about I treat you to coffee to make up for it?” I paused in my tracks and raised a brow at him, suspicious at his motives. He gave me a sheepish smile, but I could tell he was waiting in anticipation for my answer.

“Really?” I stated like I was disinterested, but really my heart was jumping like crazy. I didn’t know if it was because of the cold or nervousness, but his cheeks were tinged a light pink.

“I mean, like, in a friendly nice way. Not like I’m coming onto you in any way, I swear. Guys who come onto girls too strongly are freaks.” I chuckled at his answer, and how could I say no to that... and free coffee.

“Then fine, I’ll let you buy me some coffee.”

His smile lit up and he ruffled his messy hair that was still messy from pulling his hood down.

“Oh good, for a split second, I thought you were going to reject me.” He faked his dismay by putting his hand over his heart and clutching it dramatically. I laughed at his silly antics but didn’t let myself become comfortable with him yet.

The school cafe was just around the cafe so we hit it pretty quickly.

“Hi, what can I get for you two?” The pretty girl at the cashier greeted. I could tell Changbin was checking her out as he pretended to scan the menu. I wanted to roll my eyes, people who order coffee don’t need the menu, they always know their order. But I didn’t care who he checked out, it wasn’t like I was into him.

“How bout a venti iced americano please.” The girl nodded and wrote it down.

“And for you?”

I hummed and scanned the menu, since I, a college rookie, didn’t drink coffee often. But I definitely needed it for the early hour I woke up.

“Um, I’ll just get an tall caramel macchiato.” I didn’t even know what they tasted like, the drink just sounded cute.

“Great, one venti ice american and one all caramel macchiato, that’ll be 5 dollars 13 cents please.

Changbin let out a low whistle which made me snap my head at him.

“What?” I snapped. He laughed and gave me a mischievous grin.

“Nothing, it’s just that I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl or a guy order a tall coffee in the morning before.” I shrugged and tapped my shoes on the ground-- a habit I had when I was nervous.

“Well, I’m not much of a coffee drinker, so it doesn’t take much to wake me up.” He raised a brow.

“Wow, not a daily coffee drinker? I’m not sure if I know anyone our age who doesn’t drink coffee every morning.” I shrugged and put my hands in my butt pockets.

“Well, now you do.” I wiggled my eyebrows jokingly while he laughed at the ground like he was trying to hide his loud laugh.

Our drinks were soon ready and I grabbed my drink while he grabbed his. I put a little coaster around mine while Changbin talked to the the pretty cashier once more.

“You two enjoy your day.” She gave him a small smile and whipped her hair at him. I felt uncomfortable.

He gave her a small smile and nodded. “You too.”

As we walked away, I gave him a little nudge, as to which he was surprised at. “What?” I scoffed.

“That girl...” I trailed off, hoping he would pick up my sentence. He just stared at me dumbly. “The girl thought you were cute.”

At my words, he just shrugged and sipped his drink. “Okay... do you agree with her?” Now his words caught me off guard.

I took a sip of my coffee to wake me up. “Uhhhhhh ... hmmm... uhh..” I heard him laughing at my response and wiped his hands on his pants sicne they were wet due to the condensation to the iced drink.

“Ok honestly, I’m curious! I won’t tease you or anything, I’m just genuinely curious on what a normal person thinks of my looks.”

Changbin was... hot. To say the least. He was an attractive guy who I’m sure who got lots of girls and got lots of attention, especially with his nice style as well.

“Ok fine, yes you’re cute, but I’m sure you already knew that.” I said pretty quickly, but he still understood it. His cheeks were flushed and a pretty pink. I knew my cheeks matched mine unfortunately.

He then turned to me and said, “thank you for your deep insight.” I laughed at his boyish humor and I heard him laughing too.

“You’re pretty funny as well.” He didn’t respond to this compliment but stopped in his tracks. I quickly looked down at my watch and saw that time.

“Oh shit,” I mumbled.

“What?” He wondered.

I shook my head. “Oh no big deal, I just have class in 5 minutes, so... see you in class?” He nodded slyly and waved me off.

“Definitely, see you later y/n.”

And as I walked away from him, I felt my heart warm with a feeling I’ve never felt before and an excitement and anxiety I wasn’t sure I liked or hated.

------

Business seemed so far away yet it came so quickly. I walked into business and sat next to Euna who was already waiting for me.

“Yo, are you drinking coffee?” I nodded.

“Yup, a caramel macchiato.” She gave me a weird look.

She pulled out her bottle filled with tea and raised it to take a sip. “What’s the occasion?”

“Changbin bought me it.” Euna almost spit her drink up on me, but I pushed her away and she swallowed. “Dude!” I shouted at her. She coughed viciously but ignored me.

“Changbin?? You mean in this class Changbin??” I immediately shushed her and looked around and saw people staring directly me. Oh great.

“Wait, you and Changbin are a thing?” The guy behind me asked. I felt my cheeks heat up at his question.

I shook my head. “No, we are not.”

“But he bought you coffee.” I nodded.

“Yeah, um, he owed me a scantron so he just bought me coffee.” The boy named Soonyoung narrowed his eyes at me.

“You know a pack of scantrons are like 50 cents while coffee is like... more than that.” I rolled my eyes and shrugged.

“I don’t know, I just met Changbin practically yesterday.” I felt weird talking about my life, it was just ... weird.

Suddenly, Changbin walked in and I turned back around. The class was silent.

Changbin’s laughed filled the silence. “Why is everyone so quiet today?” I leaned back in my chair while Euna patted me on the arm comfortingly. After Changbin’s comment, the conversations resumed and the class was noisy once again.

“You bought y/n coffee? You never buy me coffee you jerk.” Soonyoung joked while punching him on the arm. Changbin glanced quickly at me but punched Soonyoung back.

“Shut up, I only buy coffees for pretty girls.” He said while looking right at me. Oh my god... how does this guy how such confidence.

I pretended I didn’t hear it, even though I obviously I did, and faced the teacher while even my professor gave me a small smile.

“Ok class, today is gonna be a fun day!” The class cheered and whooped in excitement. Everyone hated lectures, so when he spiced it up, we were all thrilled.

"So, I’m a bit sick and I’m a bit too jumbled to do lecture today, for the first 20 minutes, I’ll lecture, then I’ll let you guys ask me any kinds of questions you want, sounds good?

We all screamed “yes”.

The lecture seemed to fly by since he had a way with making boring topics fun.

Then, after the lecture, he pulled out a chair and sat in the middle of the room. “Question time!” He called out while everyone started to raise their hands.

“How old are you?

“Old enough to be your dad.” He laughed and then said “53.” He kept calling on people with ridiculous things like how many pets have you owned throughout your life and then simple questions like what’s your favorite movie? And so on.

“Hey James, do you ever ship your students together?” Soonyoung asked.

James furrowed his eyes together. “What do you mean?”

“Like, do you ever think 2 students would be a good couple or something?”

“OHHHH” James laughed and shrugged. “I mean, sometimes, of course I don’t know my student’s sexualities most of the time, but yes sometimes students come up to me, who I know fairly well, and tell me who they find cute and I then ‘ship’ them.”

“Is that the case right now?” Another student asked. James gave a small smile and shrugged, which meant yes.

“Don’t worry, we all know who it is.” Soonyoung called out while Changbin punched him on the arm.

“It’s probably you and Changbin.” Euna whispered in my ear. I just kicked her leg.

-----

The class flew by and since it was a Friday, I took my time leaving. Before I could turn to Euna, she was already gone. That rat.

“Hey y/n.” I heard the familiar voice of Changbin. I felt my heart speed up without wanting it too.

“Hey Changbin, what’s up?” I asked confidently. He seemed a bit taken aback, but he recovered smoothly, as he always did.

“Uh, so, I was wondering if you had a Snapchat?” I raised a brow and leaned against the table while it was his turn to look nervous.

“Hmmmm indeed I do. You want it?” He nodded shyly so I felt a bit bad for teasing him. I saw him add me on snap and I added him back quickly.

“So, coffee is definitely better than a scantron right?” He asked. I laughed at the inside joke.

“Definitely.”

“You know, I think I’m going to have to forget my scantrons more often so I can treat you to coffee more often.” He joked, but I felt like was nervous saying it.

“Well, you don’t need to forget your scantrons to treat me to coffee.” He paused at my words, letting them sink in. Before he could act on them, I said “bye Changbin, see you Monday.”

And this time, I felt at ease with my small crush on the boy.

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