#probably wont answer the groin question

[nightwingmyboi]

I have a massive amount of questions and hopefully you can answer them all. I wont ask all at once but first question. Dick and Tarantula. I know kinda what happens but like... All the titans took her side? Who were the titans and how did they react?

Alright, always happy to help out. Feel free to fire away! To start...I believe you’re thinking about Mirage, not Tarantula. 

Everything with Tarantula occurred in Bludhaven when Dick wasn’t currently working with the Titans. Dick hasn’t ever talked about what happened with Tarantula to anyone, so it’s likely that the Titans have no idea that anything ever happened...the only people who would have an inkling of what went down would probably be Bruce (who after the fact yelled at Dick to stop being suicidal and never looked into the matter further) and Barbara (who broke up with Dick...after seeing Tarantula force herself on him and knee him in the groin...okay). Yeah that’s a whole other issue :/ 

But I’ll explain the situation with Mirage instead. To set the scene: Dick was on the “New Titans” team, which included: Starfire, Beastboy/Changeling, Red Star, Donna Troy, and Pantha. Mirage came from an evil alternate future timeline, and in that timeline she was romantically involved with a version of Dick Grayson, later known as “Deathwing.” Because of this, she is obsessed with Dick and is convinced that they belong together. She’s come back with the rest of the “Team Titans” to the past to kill Donna Troy in order to stop her son from ruling over the world as a dictator. For some reason, she accomplishes this plan...by kidnapping Starfire, replacing her, and tricking Dick into having sex. Yeah, the plot is convoluted as hell. No time to unpack all that! 

Deathstroke (1991) #14

The team discovers that there is an imposter when Kory manages to break free of her imprisonment and escape. Dick realizes that he was manipulated into having sex with a stranger. Instead of Kory and Dick being able to talk about it alone, Pantha spills the beans in front of the whole team (sans Donna) and fuels the fire with several horrible, crude comments. 

The New Titans (1988) #90

“Details! From ten to one--how did she score compared to this one?”

Though Mirage had them all fooled, Pantha says that, seeing as Dick slept with her, he definitely should have been able to realize that she was phony. No one on the team comes to Dick’s defense or tries to shift the blame from Dick’s shoulders. Kory’s a bit pissed as well. She’s had a pretty bad couple of days. She wants an explanation from Dick, but Pantha can’t freaking shut up for five seconds so that he can give her one. 

Also, note the comments about how Dick’s hair has changed? And about “Starfire’s” new costume? I’m going to quickly side track to explain just how terrible Mirage is. 

The New Titans #88

So, while she was disguised as Kory, Mirage pushed Dick into changing his costume and cutting his hair into a mullet. Dick didn’t want to, especially because his discowing costume had huge sentimental value seeing as he’d modeled the look after his dead parent’s circus outfits, but “Kory” kept pestering him. He trusted his girlfriend, so Dick eventually agreed to follow what he thought was her lead. 

I can’t get over how horrible that is...that Dick’s rapist tried to own Dick’s body to the extent that manipulating him into having sex wasn’t enough, that she abused his trust to change his appearance to suit her needs too, specifically altering him in ways he wasn’t comfortable with. It’s disgusting, I don’t know why it’s so often glossed over, and it really gives a whole new reason to hate “Mulletwing.” And Nightwing’s not the only one whose bodily autonomy is completely thrown out the window.

The New Titans #93

When Mirage was disguised as Kory, she went around and did a bunch of porno, nude photoshoots. I don’t think I have to explain how awful it is that Kory’s appearance was used like this without her consent, especially in such a public way (people were literally stopping her in the streets to talk about it and she was invited onto a news show). Kory is rightfully pissed. Mirage also changes Starfire’s costume as well, to have big cut-outs on the sides. 

Mirage is absolutely horrible. Cannot say that enough.  

Back on the plot: Dick and Kory still have a lot to talk out, but they are on a mission to save Donna, so both of them put their feelings aside for now to help their friend. Later, while Starfire is busy chasing Donna in space, Nightwing runs into Mirage, and she reveals that she was the imposter. 

Team Titans #2

DICK YOU SLUT! So tell me, who was better? Huh? Huh? Huh? 

Mirage laughs about raping Nightwing with zero remorse. Pantha calls Dick a slut and once again asks who is better. Also like last time, the rest of the team (sans Donna) is standing right there...and doesn’t care or help him out at all. 

Dick is forced to put his feelings aside once again to deal with the threat to Earth. This means working with Mirage to the point where she is just...part of the team for some reason? My reaction is pretty in line with Kory’s here: 

Despite Kory’s protest, Dick focuses on the mission, and says that they need the manpower and the knowledge of the future that the Team Titans (including Mirage) have in order to defeat Donna and her son (long story, just ignore the plot honestly). But really, they need Mirage...so that she can cause unnecessary, contrived drama between Dick and Kory. 

I’m just going to say it: Kory and Dick are both pretty wildly out of character. Putting aside how stupid and cliché this plot is in the first place, Dick lets Mirage get away with way too much crap, when he’s always been very up front about dealing with bullshit in the past. One of the absolute worst things about having Mirage stick around (and at one point literally go on vacation with the Titans) is how she just keeps acting like her and Dick are together. It’s gross and Dick needed and usually would have put his freaking foot down about it. They also have Kory flipping from acknowledging that Mirage tricked Dick and is at fault for what happened: 

Team Titans #2

The New Titans (1988) #90

To having her think that Dick genuinely...loved Mirage and would rather be with her? And blaming Dick for being tricked? Even though Dick and Kory are both victims here? 

The New Titans (1988) #90

The New Titans (1988) #97

Starfire has an incredibly high EQ. She and Dick have always been very communicative. To see her completely unwilling to hear him out (and blame him for being raped) is shocking. She acts like an immature teenager, changing her mind all the time and then storming off to go party with random guys in clubs for the next couple days. She has zero of her previously demonstrated emotional maturity and trust. Meanwhile, just as Dick loses his girlfriend, he also loses his apartment, and, to top it all off, Roy swings by to tell Dick that the government is going to shut down the Titans because of all the property damage that happened in their last fight. Nightwing literally can never catch a break. 

The New Titans (1988) #99

Eventually, the two do make up...and Dick immediately proposes to Kory out of nowhere. She accepts, despite being pissed moments before. They have a wedding the next issue, but it is interrupted by villains from the alternate timeline, including an evil Raven and Deathwing. Afterwards, Dick and Kory’s relationship is never quite the same. 

Seeing Dick and Starfire’s relationship sour, when it was built up over so many years of comics (and with neither of them truly being at fault for the split), is freaking depressing. And Mirage never does get punished really...I’m pretty sure she’s even part of the honor guard that escorts Superman’s body to his tomb when he dies, which is dumb as hell. But that’s how it all went down. 

Just to clarify, since you specifically asked how the team reacted, I kept saying “(sans Donna)” because while most of this was going on Donna was a) giving birth or b) going crazy with power. Later, Donna is shown to know about what happened with Mirage, but she doesn’t really give it much thought. She does comment that Dick is acting strangely and she’s concerned about him, but she also doesn’t seem to connect the obvious dots that Dick is acting off...because he’s still shaken about being raped and tricked. Roy also appears later on to lead the Titans. Mirage is a member of that group, and Roy isn’t really shown to have any strong feelings about it. 

Honestly, I wouldn’t say that the Titans “took Mirage’s side” as you describe. Pretty sure none of them liked Mirage. But, they didn’t stand up for Dick, certainly. There was a lot of victim blaming. Dick’s rape wasn’t given the narrative weight that it deserved, probably due to the time period the comic was made. His teammates mostly didn’t care enough to take sides, used him being raped as a joke, or blamed him for being tricked. 

The whole story arc is convoluted, the characterizations are terrible, and overall it just sucks that this was written. 

[happys-crazy-queen22]

The Retaliation Is Served

Gif credit @angels-reyes

Chapter 5

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

Hope you all enjoy.

Shilohs P.O.V

You tried loosening the zip ties on your wrist but they wouldn't bung. Hoping someone would have to get a broom or something to clean with but no one came and it was feeling like eternity being in the closet. You wished you had your phone oh shit your phone you remembered dropping it on the floor next to the closet but someone probably took it. There was no hope. 

"I thought your calvery would have came already, I'm starting to get bored just looking at you". He got up and went towards you. You started wiggling around, trying to get free. He was not going to lay a finger on you. 

"Struggle all you want to but there's no use". He laughed was terrifying. He grabbed your feet pulling you to him, but as you neared his groin you brought your knees up and kneed him as he was crouching over you. He groaned falling on the floor. You tried to roll over him and get to the door as quick as you could but he grabbed your foot holding you back. 

Angel was walking down the halls looking in the room to see if Shiloh was in one but no sign. Then he got a idea, she went to get her phone and she may still have it on her if she's in the building so he called it. He could hear a slight noise coming from down the hall as he got closer the music of Shilohs and Riz favorite song was playing. Angel found her phone. 

"Oh fuck". He ran his hand over his head, what was he going to tell Riz? He called up Creeper telling him he found your phone. Creeper was back with RIz and they were both coming down to help. As Angel put his phone back into his pocket he heard something crash in the closet next to him. He was going to shrug it off but something in him felt trouble. He slowly opened the door. You were on the ground tied up and a man trying to get up as held himself with one hand with your foot in it. 

"You fucking son of a bitch". Angel growled, charging at the guy. You were still on the ground, you tried your best to get out from under them. Worm crawling you managed to get out of the hall. Angel threw punch after punch to the guys face. He was bloody but managed to punch Angel in the gut and throw him out of the closet. Angel hit the floor with a thud. He looked at you as you sobbed on the hospital floor. The kidnapper got the strength to walk as he walked over you and started down the hall. Angel jerked himself up off the floor and ran and jumped on the guys back. He was twirled around but his elbow did most of the work, stabbing the kidnapper in the face. Taking his fingers and gouging the eyeballs of the kidnapper. 

You watched in horror as Angel was thrown to the ground again being kicked. You knew this was the end but the floor felt like it was vibrating and you looked down the hall Creeper was helping Riz down the hall slowly running. You smiled as Riz let go of Creeper going after the kidnapper and helping Angel. Creeper carefully undid your ties and pulled your gag off. You could finially breath once again. 

Riz and Angel got control of the situation. Riz was still in his hospital gown coming over to see you. 

"Are you okay"? He kissed your lips tenderly. 

"I'm so glad to see your ass, so glad". You giggled kissing him again. "Don't ever do that to me again". 

"I promise I wont". He pulled you up, hugging you tightly. 

"What do you want us to do with him"? Creeper asked, holding a gun to the kidnappers head. Angel breathing heavily and spitting out blood. He was beyond pissed. 

"I got one question. Why Shiloh"? 

"Eat shit Mayan". He spat. Riz punched him in the nose. 

"He doesn't want the sons working with the Mayans". You spoke, the kidnapper didn't like that as he went to go after you but was stopped by a blow to the gut by Angel. 

"Do you think he's working with Aaron? He's got prison tattoos". Creep examined the arms.

"You're working with him aren't you"? Riz got into his face. But all he did was laugh.

"You Mayans have a shit storm coming your way". Was the last words he spoke as Angel blew a hole threw his head, it echoed the hallway.

"Put him in the closet". Riz wrapped his arm around your shoulds, you held his gown together as his butt was out it made you giggle that he didn't care.

"I'll call Coco". Angel walked away.

"Really, you're going to leave me here with a dead body in a tiny space? You know how I am with space man". Creeper groaned pulling the guy by his legs into the closet.

Dee's point of view

The boys were outside doing God knows what, a couple minutes ago EZ got a call from someone and ever since then they have been like little angry fire ants. Im in the kitchen trying to get something to drink when I hear something moving outside probably just one of the guys.

I feel my way out to check up on them when I smell the familiar leather and cigarettes of the boys but this smell had something with it, didn't smell like any of the guys I know. My gut was telling me there was something wrong but I couldnt put my finger on it.

"EZ? Gilly?" I ask feeling my way to the picnic table. No answer so I feel the little pocket knife Johnny gave me for protection if i ever needed it. I took it out of my jean pocket.

"Hello again stranger." I heard a deep male voice behind me

I froze, fuck when did he get out! I know that voice from anywhere it's Aron.

We're are you guys?

"What not even a hello? That's shame. I just wanted to come see you again baby."

His words mademade my skin crawl,"I'm not your baby. I never will be you disgusting bastard." I said pissed off.

I tried looking in his direction,"I heard about your untimely accident such a shame.those pretty blues now gone. I knew he wouldn't have did it. I told him to kill not injure."

I knew this sick asshole did it. Come on guys were the hell are you?

He was close to me I could tell but I backed off,"get away from me!" I yelled hoping they would hear

"Come on babe you don't belong with these bikers."

"Im not yours! Never will be!"

EZ's point of view

"Get away from me!" I heard Dee yell

"Shit! He found her!" I said taking off running toward the back of the house

Gilly right behind me

When we got there Aron had her by the neck and hid back to us so I went behind him

"Come on babe you don't belong to those bikers." Aron said

I grabbed him by the back of his jacket Turing him facing me and punched him.

After a few minutes of punching back and forth Aron gasped then dropped on the floor. I looked down surprised there was a knife I'm his back.

I looked up at Dee who was leaning against the wall near me,"what the hell?"

"My bad." She said with a grin

I rolled my eyes and chuckled,"what is up with you Cruz's and the 'my bad' ?"

"Hey I saved your life didn't I?" She asked feeling her way to me.

"That you did but were supposed to protect you."

I looked over her shoulder and saw he was getting up,shit! Before I could pull my gun out he grabbed Dee pulling her back to him,she screamed trying to fight him off. But before I had a chance to shoot he stabbed her and took off

She fell close to me,but I grabbed her and gently lowered her to the ground "shit Gilly call 911 go!' I said running to her and taking my shirt off to put pressure on the wound,"come on Dee, stay with me please?" We're the hell are the paramedics"

After they came they took her stright to surgery.

I sat there staring at the blood on my hands and on my jeans. Then it dawned on me, someone has to tell Leti,cocos kid, they're really close. Dee practically took Leti under her wings. But I couldn't move my body felt numb, "EZ you ok?" I heard her voice

How in the hell did she get here? "Gilly called me. Wouldn't tell me but just to get here."I just stared at the ground, wanting to tell her but i couldn't find the words

"I think he's in shock,could you keep him company while I call coco?""sure."

She said then I heard footsteps walking away. Shit Coco's gonna kill me

Cocos P.O.V

Getting a call from Angel made you haul ass to your house, you dodged cars and stop signs. You wouldn't forgive yourself if something else happened to Dee. Just hoping you get there in time to stop anything before it happened. You trusted Gilly and Ez but you felt safer being there.

When you got at the house, the bikes were gone, you thought nothing about it. Dee probably had them running errands or something. So going into the house you grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and went to go sit down in your chair but the puddle of blood on the floor stopped you in your tracks. There were galez and gloves on the floor so you knew it was serious when someone called 911. Your phone vibrated in your pocket as you pulled it out it was Gilly.

"Where the hell are you guys"? You questioned.

"We're at the hospital, Dees been stabbed. Leti's here with us".

"What"? You dropped your beer to the floor and raced to your bike. Getting to the hospital as fast as you can.

Running you you went straight to the nurses desk. Banging on the desk.

"My wife she just came in with a stab wound".

"Name sir"?

"Dee Cruz". Coco felt panic set in not know what was happening.

"Coco"? You heard Gillys voice behind you.

"What the fuck happened"?

"Aaron he did it. He came in Ez and him were fighting, Dee stabbed him but he wasn't dead then he took the knife and stabbed her in the chest. They have her in surgery".

"Fuck". Coco screamed his fist balling up.

"I want this fucking dickless prick found and brought to me". He demanded Gilly.

"You got it brother. Oh Riz is in the waiting room". Gilly smiled as he walked off.

Going into the waiting room. You saw Ez covered in blood. Shiloh with marks on her wrist comforting Leti, someone must have told her. Angel, Creeper and Riz talking in the corner.

"What's happening"? You made your presence known. Leti sobbed her way to you, hugging her tightly.

"Um, the doctor just came in and said that the surgery went well the knife was about three inches from her heart and that she should make a complete recovery". Shiloh spoke holding back tears.

"How are you."? You asked her.

"I'm good, can't wait for this to be over and back to normal". She chuckled.

"Fucking same". You laughed.

"How are you brother"? You asked Riz who was coming over to Shiloh.

"Glad to be alive".

"What about the other guy"?

"Taken care of, he had something against the Mayans and the Sons working together. Probably some wanna be prospect who couldn't make it in Sons cause he's not to friendly with people of color".

"He was with the Brotherhood"?

"No, didn't see any tattoos. So we're guessing couldn't make it either or not enough hate".

"He had enough going after us and our families".

"Not anymore he doesn't". Angel said sternly.

Coco and Riz nodded with agreement.

"Gilly is out searching with some of the sons. We're going to find him".

"Hell yes we are, if we have to turn over every stone he will be dealt with".

Coco went over to Ez who hasn't spoken since you got there.

"Thanks brother". You sat down beside him.

"She could've died because of me". He spoke with a tear falling down his face.

"But you tried your best to protect her and you saved her life. So if it wasn't for you being there she wouldn't be here".

"I'm sorry". Ez broke down.

"It's okay brother". You rubbed his back.

"Mr. Cruz"? A doctor spoke bringing you all out of the sadness.

"That's me". You stood up.

"She's asking for you". He said with a smile.

"Give our girl love, we'll be here waiting". Shiloh said holding Leti, you nodded with a slight smile. You were nervous about seeing her. This should've be you in here again not Dee.

[thethespacecoyote]

“those who can’t do, teach”

“You have your history final in a few days,” Hux says, in a tone a little too dry for the situation, as Ben slides the hand down towards his thigh, “we really need to focus if you’re going to pass.”

“If I unwind first, it’ll help my information retention,” Ben counters as he noses against the shell of Hux’s ear, “just a quickie. Then we’ll get down to the books.”

They hardly ever use books. Hux has a little whiteboard and a tablet where Ben can look up the texts assigned to him by his professor, as well as supplementary reading and primary sources Hux has chosen himself to aid in his student’s education. Ben is a visual learner, so Hux has had to assemble a wide variety of videos and interactive quizzes. He swears, some days he doesn’t think Ben doesn’t fully appreciate just how much work he puts into their lesson plans.

He does, however, show his appreciation for other parts of Hux a lot more frequently.

I wanted to write intercrural fic again and finally thought of an idea with tutor!Hux and college student!Kylo. I had a lot of fun writing this. If you like it please leave me a comment on ao3. 

The parents of the student he tutors on Tuesdays are not exactly the vain, stuffy type, and probably wouldn’t care if Hux wore jeans and a T-shirt to his sessions with their son, but Hux hasn’t worn his nice clothes since his last round of unsuccessful university interviews, and he’ll always leap at the chance to look smart and put together. So, as always, he shows up to the Solo-Organa household in style, with his navy blue blazer and matching pants, brown Oxfords, all capped off with a freshly shaven chin and hair parted neatly to the right. He stands at attention on the porch, catching patterns in the ivy growing over the house's white walls as he waits for an answer to his knock. He doesn’t have to wait for long, as the huge, glossy door eventually opens up to reveal Hux’s equally huge pupil.

“Hey. You’re a little early,” Ben replies casually as he steps aside to let Hux in, closing the door behind them. Ben always comments on this, even though Hux has shown up either five or ten minutes early to their sessions since the second time they met, when he figured out that Ben takes a little time to get settled down and ready to work.

“Hello Ben. Are your parents home?” Hux asks, looking about the entranceway for a sight or sound of activity, but the big house yawns quietly around them. Ben shrugs.

“Nah. Mom and Dad are out. Some thing at city hall Dad was complaining about.”

It seems like Ben’s parents are out most of the time. Hux knows his mother is a councilwoman, and his father seems to take on an odd array of freelance jobs with no strict correlation between them. They're so close to the adjacent college that Ben still lives at home, though no doubt his parents could afford to house him on campus. But Hux far prefers the thoughtful and transitional interior design to the cramped clutter a dorm room would potentially offer, so he can't complain much.

He allows Ben to lead him into the kitchen for a glass of water and a snack, though Hux hardly thinks an entire box of last night’s takeout is small enough to qualify as a “snack,” then follows him up the stairs to the second floor. However, once they get into Ben’s bedroom and Hux starts to lay out his book bag and the supplies inside on the provided desk, it becomes obvious that Ben is still hungry. Just in a different way.

The room is huge like the rest of his house, almost as big as the kitchen and adjoining living room in Hux’s small apartment, and yet Ben ruins the glorious space with messy black bedsheets, an uninspired taupe wallpaper, and scores of huge, ghoulish posters depicting six black-clad figures and the ominous initials “K.O.R.” etched in bloodied font. Apparently, they’re a band, as Ben cordially explained to him during their first session, but Hux hopes he never has to hear what kind of “music” they produce from their skull-like masks.

Hux is looking at one particularly gruesome picture of the members clustered around an altar of reanimated crows when Ben comes up behind him, and first Hux thinks he has a question but then a hand sits on his hip, and he sighs.

“Ben…”

“What?”

“You have your history final in a few days,” Hux says, in a tone a little too dry for the situation, as Ben slides the hand down towards his thigh, “we really need to focus if you’re going to pass.”

“If I unwind first, it’ll help my information retention,” Ben counters as he noses against the shell of Hux’s ear, “just a quickie. Then we’ll get down to the books.”

They hardly ever use books. Hux has a little whiteboard and a tablet where Ben can look up the texts assigned to him by his professor, as well as supplementary reading and primary sources Hux has chosen himself to aid in his student’s education. Ben is a visual learner, so Hux has had to assemble a wide variety of videos and interactive quizzes. He swears, some days he doesn’t think Ben doesn’t fully appreciate just how much work he puts into their lesson plans.

He does, however, show his appreciation for other parts of Hux a lot more frequently.

Ben especially seems to like Hux’s waist, flattening the fabric of his suit to his sides to accentuate where his body pinches inwards. There truly defines the differences in breadth between them, as Ben’s hands look and feel absolutely huge when held up to his slight bulk. They’re nearly the same height, allowing Hux to register his disapproval more directly to his pupil when he fails to complete his coursework in a timely matter, but there’s no denying Ben is far larger than him, with a body built by freak genetics and toned with obsessive, toiling hours in the gym and on the field.

“Ben no,” Hux protests as he pinches the back of his student’s hand, which has started to travel to the crotch of his dress pants. “If your parents ever find out about this, I lose my job and you lose your only chance to attain enough credits to graduate.”

“They’re not here. And they’re never gonna find out.”

“If you fail this exam as badly as I fear you will, they’ll suspect something.”

“I won’t fail. Even if we spent the next three days fucking in my bedroom I wouldn’t fail. You’re that good a teacher.”

“Flattery? You think that will sway me from my lesson plan?” Hux scowls as Ben molds his chest to his back. The smell of sweat, unwashed cotton, and body spray invade his nose. Ben must have gone to the gym earlier, or tossed those barbells in the corner about as he grunted like an animal. Hux needs to introduce him to a decent cologne one of these days.

“You like being told you’re smart. That’s why you became a tutor, right? To prove you’re smarter than people?”

“I became a tutor because my post-graduate career has so far been underwhelming,” Hux dismisses. That, and he has rent to pay and a cat to feed, and if he ends up fired because Ben can’t focus on exam prep for five minutes without thinking about feeling Hux up he’ll be very upset.

“Please. Come on, Armitage.”

Hux groans. He knew it was a mistake to tell Ben his name. He knows just the way to roll it in his mouth, dancing between pleading and husky, in a perfect tone to get Hux shivery and pliable. Oh hell. 

There’s no way either of them will be able to concentrate like this.

“Fine,” Hux relents, turning his head to look at Ben out of the corner of his eye, “but I’m going to work you extra hard this evening. This will count as one of your study breaks.”

“Sure thing, professor,” Ben breathes eagerly against Hux’s neck, the hand on his thigh already moving to fiddle with the zipper of his pants. Hux leans his head back, stiffly allowing Ben more access, and he quickly takes advantage, pressing a warm, wet kiss against his throat.

Pleasant feelings start to squirm in Hux’s belly as Ben palms his groin, his other hand easily slipping open the three buttons on his blazer. He doesn’t bother to remove it, though, interested only in freeing up Hux’s front so he can explore it better. He tuts when Ben gives his pec a squeeze and pushes his hips forward, reminding Hux of his impressive length as he grinds it against his ass.

“Do it between my thighs,” Hux decides, knowing he wont want to sit on his smarting ass for hours as Ben works through his comprehension of the Spanish-American War. “You still have lubricant?”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Course I do.”

“Silly me. I forgot who I was talking to.” Hux sits on the bed, unzipping his pants all the way and shimmying them down as Ben fetches the lube from the nightstand drawer. His back muscles flex through the tightness of his shirt, like powerful tides pushing up out of the depths of the sea. When he returns, Ben sets aside the lube for a moment to brush his fingers against the side of Hux’s head, dipping into his hair, before leaning in to kiss him. A couples seconds and Hux is lying on his back in the bed, with Ben half leaned on top of him exploring his mouth with gusto he wished he had for his studies.  

Part of Hux still doesn’t understand it. A young man like Ben Solo—attractive, athletic, the son of wealthy and distinguished parents—could have any number of girls or boys he wanted, surely. Hux remembers college, how it had reeked of hormones and alcohol properly let loose for the first time without the fear of parental discovery. A pot of sex and attempts at higher learning, all mingled together and bubbling over. Surely Ben would’ve had no issue finding a decent lay his age.

And yet he has eyes for his tutor, five years his senior. Hux knows he’s no prize, even discounting his age—he is soft everywhere Ben is muscled, drawn and pallid where he is unfettered and vigorous, and he cares more for literature and analysis than the raucous music and brazen athletics that Ben favors. If Hux tried, he could probably find a pair more mismatched than they are, but it would be difficult and require a wider survey.

And yet it was Ben who approached him first, leaning in to kiss him over a reenacted video of the Battle of Antietam. Their first, furtive hand-jobs were stroked in rhythm to the sounds of gunshots and narrated personal accounts, and the first time Hux had gotten down on his knees in Ben’s bedroom and taken his tremendous, virile cock down his throat the impassioned speeches of William Jennings Bryant were still ringing through his ears. Indeed, sex had become a part of their sessions together, and to Hux’s surprise Ben’s grades haven’t suffered as a result.

But he still couldn’t risk failing that final. So Hux swats at Ben’s shoulder until he breaks the kiss, tells him:

“Hurry it up.”

And brings his knees to his chest, exposing his bare rear to the young man’s eyes.

Ben raises his eyebrow and a smirk at the same time.

“Eager?”

“Eager to get to what your parents are paying for,” Hux says, and steals the smile from Ben’s face a bit.

“Dude, don’t talk about my parents when I’m about to get my dick out.”

“Then get it out already!” Hux hurries, trying to make himself believe he’s only acting impatiently for the acceptable reasons. But it’s hard not to notice the beginnings of twitching in his own cock as he lies with his ass out before his pupil.

Hux hears the squelch of lubrication as Ben squeezes the tube onto his finger and rubs it against his palm. His breath hitches with anticipation a moment before Ben touches between his thighs, sliding a warm, slick digit in the tight crease. He moves it up and down before jabbing it forwards, coating the available flesh. It’s a little oily, and Hux rubs his thighs together experimentally, feeling how easily they slide against each other while also helping to spread the lube around himself.

Hux swears under his breath as Ben’s knuckles nearly skim the underside of his cock, heightening his anticipation despite himself. Damn it, he’s doing this because Ben wants to, because he won't allow them to move onto the lesson plan otherwise. Hux doesn’t want to accept he’s into it, because then what kind of degenerate would that make him? Letting his pupil fuck his thighs, in the house of his parents, when they’re supposed to be ensuring that Ben won’t mix up Andrew Johnson with Andrew Jackson.

Hux hears the jingling of a belt and, though he can’t see it, he assumes Ben is opening up his own pants as he braces Hux’s knees with his unsullied hand. His heart picks up beating, and he cranes his neck up off the pillow as Ben unbends his legs and lets them rest against his body, angled perpendicular to his spine.

Hux won’t lie, he loves that cock of Ben’s. It’s thick like the rest of him, not the longest Hux has ever seen but with a great enough girth to fill his fist and stretch his throat out in just the way he likes. And he’s so earnest in the way he touches Hux, with a hint of a man who understands the value of lovemaking rather than purely lecherous fucking, not that Hux hasn’t had his fair share of the latter in his life. But it’s nice, to see that even a cocksure young man like Ben understands how to properly treat a bed partner. Some older individuals Hux has consorted with could learn a thing or two from him.

Hux flinches as Ben’s cock slides between his thighs, eventually poking out the other side, its fat head resting atop his downy balls. Ben rests Hux’s clasped calves over one shoulder, keeping his legs in the diagonal so he can see his face. Hux blushes, dragging his teeth against his lower lip as Ben lingers for a moment, most likely enjoying the feeling of soft flesh around his cock.

“Oh…” Hux suddenly moans when Ben starts to move, first pulling out a bit then sliding back into place, finding an acceptably steady rhythm after a couple moments feeling out the best way to drive his cock between Hux’s thighs.  

Ben’s shaft soon rubs over the entirety of Hux’s undercarriage, from his quivery hole over his taint to his balls and cock, able to cover all ground in a single long thrust. Hux’s toes curl in his shoes as he puffed breath from his cheeks, which have surely grown red if the heat he feels there is any indication. He must look truly debauched to Ben, who undoubtedly enjoys seeing his well-dressed, tightly-wound tutor in such a state. He wonders if it’s a point of pride to him, or some kind of dare he’s set up with his buddies, to drive Hux mad with just this, just the barest taste of his cock. And yet despite his attitude, Ben doesn’t strike Hux as much of a braggart. He aced his midterm awhile back, and didn’t even tell Hux until he pressed him for details partway through their subsequent session.

Truly, there’s a more earnest, contemplative side of Ben that Hux enjoys the most, that resurfaces in moments of vulnerability like this, with sincere sexuality, care for the man only hired to bring his grades up and keep him on that damned lacrosse team.

It’s almost a shame Hux didn’t have someone like Ben while he was in college.

The motion of their bodies grows more frenetic, shifting Ben’s bed slightly. One of Hux’s hand curls into a fist, nails brushing against his palm as the other reaches for his cock, needing to get off and resolve the yearning growing in his heart, but Ben beats him to it, leaves Hux’s hand to rest against his panting belly as he loosely cups the both of their cocks. Ben’s thrusts grow more shallow, mere rutting against Hux’s cock within the cage of his fingers.

“That’s it, yes—” He encourages, though Ben needs none, dipping his head in concentration as he deftly jerks the both of them off to their peak.

Hux’s own release soon splatters against his lower belly, barely missing the rucked-up hem of his dress shirt. He pants, his thighs twitching around Ben’s cock, noticing a moment later that he too has come all over him. Hux should feel upset by it, how messy he’s become, but it’s not the worst sensation in the world. It makes him think about how it would feel to have Ben finish inside of him, leave him wet and dripping for more.

Perhaps. If Ben does well enough on this final, he’ll consider it. Positive reinforcement is yet another tool in his tutorial arsenal, after all. Though he certainly enjoys food as much as sex—maybe he should treat Ben to dinner first.

“Are you...substantially unwound?” Hux says in between pants as Ben lowers his legs, slips his cock out from between his soiled thighs. He tries to sit up when Ben leans in for another kiss, but Hux fusses and turns his head away, placing a staying hand on his chest. But then Ben puts on such a wounded look he can’t deny him, and meets his lips in one last kiss before pressing a finger to them.

“Give me a moment to freshen up,” Hux says as he fishes in his coat pocket for a pack of tissues, fiddling it open. “Then we’re getting right down to work. No complaints.”

And Ben nods, smiles, accepts a tissue from Hux to clean himself up. They zip up their pants and buckle their belts, Hux smooths his hair back into place and it’s almost like none of this ever happened—yet the confident, pleased grin on Ben’s face remains the same.

“I’m all yours, professor.”

[kiruuuuu]

Pulse/Thermite oneshot in which they break into Doc’s office drunk and make some very interesting discoveries. (Rating E, smut, ~3k words :) - written for @starshooter-apollo  ♥

.

“You’d think that of all things, bandages should be easy to find in a doctor’s office”, Thermite grumbles as he slams another cabinet door shut, turns to Pulse who’s rifling through Doc’s desk with lifted eyebrows and a distracted expression. “Does he keep them under lock and key? Is he afraid of mummy costumes?”

“It’s probably the fact that you’re the only idiot who needs them regularly and you patch yourself up anyway”, comes the laconic answer, the words slurred slightly. Neither of them are sober which explains why they broke into Doc’s office in the middle of the night for really no reason, until Thermite noticed that he could use the opportunity to re-dress his wounds. They’ve separated from the others about an hour ago because both of them agreed they didn’t need to watch Bandit perform a strip tease and now they’re stranded here, determined to find some goddamn bandages and if it’s the last thing they do.

“Only because Doc won’t stop looking at me like he’s disappointed. Please, I have my dad for that.” Pulse snorts but it’s obvious his drunken mind is elsewhere, he’s leaning back in the heavy desk chair and has stopped searching, his gaze fixed on something Thermite can’t see from where he’s standing. “What is it? Did you find something?” He steps closer and peers into the drawer Pulse has pulled open and is examining with interest. “Oh shit, what is all this?” A low whistle escapes him and his friend grins in response.

“It turns out even doctors have secrets”, he says nonsensically, as he’s wont to do when intoxicated. His enunciation is crisp and clear but the content of his utterances suffers.

“Makes sense though, if I were in desperate need of a condom or lube I’d actually come here”, Thermite states, “or maybe approach Smoke.”

“Smoke is a walking condom.”

“I think I’ll finish this bottle without you, yeah? You’ve had enough.” He unscrews the vodka bottle they stole from Ash and topped up with orange juice and takes a generous swig that’s at least two thirds vodka, making him scrunch up his nose in slight disgust.

“Do you jerk off with lube?”

He almost spits it all out again and narrowly avoids death by inhaling alcohol, forces himself to swallow before he looks at Pulse with an incredulous expression. “What?”

“Just curious. You’re cut, too. I don’t really like it, don’t mind the friction.”

“Dude, I think your filter turned itself off at some point. I’m definitely drinking this on my own.” Thermite is undoubtedly not drunk enough to be discussing his masturbation habits with his colleague and best friend.

“I think this one is flavoured.” Again, Thermite has to muster up all his willpower to not spray Pulse with a screwdriver shower. “Seriously though, look at the variety, Jordan! Doc is a fucking lube dealer.” Excitedly, Pulse begins lining up bottles on the wooden tabletop, the labels, sizes and functions differing vastly.

Curiously and slightly disbelieving, Thermite starts to inspect them, finds a range so wide his head starts swimming – well, even more. Though it could also be the vodka. “The fuck?”, he mumbles as he comes across a particularly striking label. “Warming lube. Creates a gentle warmth that heats things up – what in the world?”

“Oh, that sounds right up your alley”, Pulse replies enthusiastically as he’s piling up more and more condom wrappers next to the lubrication, “you have to try it.”

“What, now?!”, Thermite scoffs and really, it’s just a joke, only then Pulse pauses and they hold eye contact and he knows they’re both thinking it. “I’m not going to wank in Doc’s office”, he says and sounds more convinced than he actually is because the thought is intriguing to his fuzzy mind. They’ve broken in here already, why not go a step further? He amends his last statement: “At least I’m not doing it on my own.”

“I can do it”, Pulse suggests and yes, he’s indubitably on that side of drunk where his playful recklessness bleeds into his iron composure and creates a volatile mixture that entertains Thermite endlessly.

“Didn’t you just say you don’t like lube?”

“No, I mean – on you.”

Another pause, this one significantly longer. Weighing the pros and cons is futile seeing as the only pro of this scenario is it’s going to feel so fucking amazing whereas the cons include a possibly awkward work relationship in the future, overstepping pretty much all boundaries Thermite holds sacred, the judgement he’ll face when he inevitably blurts out what happened to someone completely unrelated and so on. There’s nothing redeeming about this. Absolutely nothing. He drinks another sip, then another one without tearing his eyes away from Pulse who is watching him expectantly. “Okay”, Thermite hears himself agree, “sure. Why not?”

“Sweet. Sit down somewhere.” Pulse gets to his feet unsteadily and inexplicably adds: “I can wear gloves to make it feel like it’s someone else.”

Thermite possesses neither the presence of mind nor the crayons to explain to Pulse why nothing of what he’s saying makes any sense, so he decides to leave it and sits down on the desk, refusing to think about their current situation too hard. Still, his blood is rushing in his ears and admittedly into his groin in anticipation. He likes Pulse, feels comfortable in his presence and adores him for regularly humouring Thermite; alright, he also had the occasional passing thought about his tall, serious friend but never anything specific. Well, maybe once. He might’ve fantasised about him while touching himself once. Or twice.

The snap of latex yanks him out of his reverie and he realises Pulse has actually donned a pair of Doc’s gloves, wriggling his fingers with a slight grin. “The doctor is in”, Pulse says and Thermite feels his cheeks redden.

“You really don’t need to -”

“I don’t want this goop on my hands.”

“You’re going to put this goop on my dick.”

“Exactly. So stop complaining, Jordan, and lean back.” Thermite’s mouth snaps shut and he obeys, props himself up on the wooden surface, spreads his legs so Pulse can step between them and all of sudden, it’s intimate and embarrassing at the same time. His jeans are clumsily unbuttoned, zipped open and there’s a split second of doubt, the last moment where he could still stop this – but he lets it pass. His head feels light from the alcohol, his limbs are relaxed and as Pulse’s warm, gloved fingers gingerly pull out his penis, he realises he’s half-hard already. “Not bad.”

Thermite huffs a laugh at the words as well as Pulse’s curious expression as he gently palms him, examines every angle and then makes Thermite inhale sharply by rubbing his thumb over the sensitive head. “Jack, get on with it. You’re meant to jerk it, not memorise it.”

“Fine. Don’t be so bossy, it’s unbecoming.” Pulse reaches over and uncaps the warming lube, squirts some into his palm and, without further ado, wraps his slick fingers around Thermite’s shaft, moves them up and down slowly before switching to massaging the tip, prompting a low gasp from the older man. His dick is quickly filling with blood now, thoroughly enjoying the foreign touch, the smooth slide and especially the fact that it’s Pulse groping him right now. “Can you feel it?”

For a moment, he’s utterly distracted by the view of the broad gloved hand encircling his erection, forgot how it came about and is abruptly filled with desire so strong it makes his cock twitch in Pulse’s grasp. Then he notices the delicious heat amplifying the pleasure and hums contentedly. “Yeah, it’s – it’s nice. Oh, it’s really nice.”

“What does it feel like?”

“Warm. Like my skin is drunk. Mmm, keep going like this.” Each stroke feels like heaven, they’re too slow and teasing yet he has no objections against enjoying this whole thing for as long as possible, he’s in no rush and Pulse… he seems ridiculously pleased for some reason, keeps tightening his grip on each upstroke and alternates between watching Thermite and his erect cock, delighted about every reaction he can tickle out of either of them.

“Have you been jerked by a dude before?” He nods before he can catch himself – his inhibitions are long gone, courtesy of the strong buzz occupying most of his consciousness. “How was that, then?”

“They weren’t as chatty as you are, I can tell you that.” With a slight grin, he closes his eyes and tilts his head back, concentrates on the prickling heat and the tender ministrations lulling him into a peaceful state of mind, not even worrying about the fact that he used the plural in his reply. A few men have jacked him off and Pulse didn’t know this before. Maybe he should worry.

“Is this how you masturbate normally?” The exploration has stopped now, Pulse is pumping his dick steadily and confidently – so confidently, in fact, that Thermite suspects it’s not the first time he’s doing this to someone else.

“Yeah. A bit faster still.” Though this tempo is acceptable, it’ll just take a while. He doesn’t mind. A soft gasp slips out and he finds Pulse staring at him intently when he opens his eyes again, his gaze as hot as his slippery fingers and Thermite knows it’s not just the lube that sets his skin ablaze.

“Do you finger yourself?”

The question is weirdly intimate despite the whole situation yet he feels compelled to answer. “Sometimes.”

“If this stuff feels good on your dick, it’s gonna be amazing up your ass. Take off your pants.”

He laughs incredulously. “Jack, you must be absolutely shit-faced if you’re being serious right now.” They look at each other and Pulse does something with his fingers that makes Thermite suck air in through his teeth and then he realises Pulse is being serious as well as shit-faced, just like Thermite himself, and why is he even still clothed? Suppressing all the protests flaring up at the idea of allowing his best friend to finger him to an undoubtedly mind-blowing orgasm, he toes off one of his shoes and helps Pulse to mostly remove his trousers and underwear, leaving them pooled around one ankle. His cock meets this new development with unbridled enthusiasm, leaking onto Thermite’s belly and twitching once more when Pulse bends the naked leg to put Thermite’s foot on the edge of the desk, exposing him fully.

As usual, Pulse wastes no time, is efficient and goal-oriented and lubes up the fingers of his other hand before he softly touches one digit to Thermite’s hole, rubbing slightly until he feels it relax, the lube once again spreading a soothing warmth; then he slips it inside and there’s no doubt now, he’s definitely done this before though whether it was with a guy or a woman is unclear. Fully trusting him to do the right thing, Thermite lies down flat and stares at the ceiling of the medical office, unfocused and without seeing anything because he’s concentrating on all the wonderful sensations happening between his legs.

Pulse is stroking him again while he simultaneously moves his finger inside, a gentle invasion that only adds to the arousal coursing through Thermite’s body, combining with the light-headedness from the vodka to form a thick mist settling over his mind, clouding his judgement, sense of decency and inhibitions. For a while, he just floats lazily, content in his passivity and revelling in the way everything spins around him, then his big mouth gets the better of him and he says: “You can add another. I’m used to it.”

To Pulse’s credit, he obliges wordlessly and even starts scissoring his fingers while he still jerks Thermite at a leisurely pace, focusing on the head and massaging the ridge now and then. Mixed with the warmth of the lube, it’s sensational, steals Thermite’s breath away already and then he feels the fingers curling against his prostate and moans throatily not only because he’s insanely turned on by now but also because this confirms his suspicions that Pulse has done this with a guy and that means there’s a chance. He doesn’t miss the short pause that follows his vocalisation. It could be an indication…

He tests his theory by groaning loudly the next time those skilled fingertips brush over his prostate and grinds his hips against them. The otherwise smooth movements are interrupted yet again, so he props himself up on his elbows to catch Pulse running his gaze over his naked legs and his crotch, chewing on his bottom lip and sporting a visible bulge in his trousers. Ignoring his own arousal for the moment, Thermite addresses him with a slight grin: “Hey, Jack. Wanna try out one of the condoms as well?”

Pulse’s eyes snap up, alarmed, and he hesitates. “You think so?”, he asks, his voice thick.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” He waits until Pulse’s hands have withdrawn from his body, leaving him empty and thrumming with need before he gets up and rifles through the wrappers on the desk, acutely aware of Pulse’s presence behind him, breathing hard and being hard and it was a fantastic idea to agree to this. Then he stops. “There’s a glow in the dark one”, he manages to say with a straight face but cracks up at Pulse’s barking laugh, “oh God we have to use it.” He turns back to his friend and finds he’s already undone his jeans as well as pulled out his sizeable erection, ever so pragmatic, prompting Thermite to lift his eyebrows and comment: “Should’ve used three fingers.”

“Shut up”, Pulse replies with a grin mirroring Thermite’s and doesn’t protest when Thermite rips the foil with his teeth and carefully rolls the condom over his dick, making sure not to drag his bandages over the sensitive skin though he gives it a proper tug once the latex is unrolled, smiles at Pulse’s gasp in response. “I should make sure it’ll work. Get the lights.” Pulse turns on Doc’s desk lamp while Thermite kills the overhead ones and shines it directly on his crotch, his condom-clad and now also well-lit penis jutting out proudly and the sight is hysterical.

“Why am I friends with you”, Thermite snorts and laughs so hard at Pulse’s mock hurt expression that he has to support himself on the desk so his knees don’t give in. The entire situation feels surreal now, they’re about to have sex yet all he can think about is how ridiculous it’s going to look, getting fucked by a glowing cock. Still, he’s genuinely looking forward to it. None of this would’ve happened if they weren’t drunk, he knows this though he chooses to disregard this fact for now. “Get some more lube and then let’s go.”

He ignores how the sight of Pulse staring at him while slicking up his erection makes something in his insides flutter and instead turns around, rests his arms on the desk and presents his backside, taking measured breaths and jumping slightly at the feel of a gloved hand on one of his buttocks. “You ready?”

I’ve been ready months ago, Thermite thinks and only nods. When the remaining light source is switched off, he cranes his neck to catch a glimpse of Pulse’s dick and it’s exactly as garish, bright and hilarious as he thought it’d be. They both chortle as they admire the view, continue snickering even as the tip touches Thermite’s entrance, applies pressure and slips in when he relaxes. He shifts his stance, spreads his legs a bit more so Pulse is angled down, lowers his head so he can see the glowing cock between his legs. “This is ridiculous”, Thermite states matter-of-factly and chuckles up to the point where Pulse pushes in all the way and suddenly he doesn’t feel like laughing anymore whatsoever.

His nails dig into the wood and his mouth falls open at the familiar feeling of becoming one with someone else, being invaded this intimately and, out of nowhere, he’s so turned on he can’t even speak, only moan brokenly. Pulse’s cock is large, he can feel his insides fit snugly around it, is aware of every inch of it in his body and for a second he’s worried about passing out. The heat of it is almost unbearable.

The first movements are tentative and shallow, visible by the bright shaft appearing and disappearing again, creating delicious friction that slowly drives him insane despite the ludicrous view. He feels Pulse’s fingers tighten on his hipbones and then him withdrawing, slamming back in and almost knocking him off balance. “Jordan”, he murmurs and sounds wrecked already, “you feel so fucking good.” And with that, he begins thrusting into him for real, pulling Thermite’s hips flush with his own again and again, aiming for that sweet spot and keeping the angle when Thermite curses loudly.

It’s carnal, Thermite loses himself completely in the pleasure that zaps through him like electricity, the sensations amplified manifold due to the soothing darkness surrounding him, denying him any distractions, and so all he can do is focus on the desire coursing through him. Pulse’s thrusts are hard and deep, chipping away at the remains of Thermite’s composure, wrenching more and more noises from his throat. One of the hands disappears and he makes up for it by meeting Pulse, adapting to his rhythm and rolling his hips into him, clenching his muscles and causing them both to groan in bliss.

There’s a noise, something hitting the floor next to them and Thermite realises what it is when a warm hand wraps around his still slick cock – Pulse must’ve pulled off one of the gloves with his teeth and has resumed jerking him off, only now he’s playing a dangerous game. “Jack, I’m so close already, I’m gonna come real soon, so maybe don’t -” He doesn’t want this to be over so quickly, want to stay like this forever even if his legs are threatening to cramp up and his arms and neck hurt from the awkward position but if Pulse keeps stroking him like this, he won’t last another minute.

“It’s okay”, Pulse replies shakily, “me too.”

This seals the deal. If Pulse is already on the edge, it means Thermite is affecting him a whole lot more than he’d admit and the thought is thrilling. Both of them are chasing their release now, moving in unison and filling the air with strangled gasps and the occasional moan, the hand on Thermite’s dick insistent and skilled and he was right, it does feel fucking amazing and a few seconds later he’s proven correct once more. Because his orgasm is mind-blowing.

His legs are trembling when he’s pushed over the edge with a blissful whine, his cock spurting come all over Pulse’s fist that never stops moving, his hole contracting hungrily around the throbbing shaft that releases its sperm at the same time, Pulse groaning, relieved; it’s all a blur. Thermite’s stomach muscles flutter as they both ride it out, drunk and drunk on each other, trying to catch their breath and relaxing into the aftershocks, floating on the pleasurable sensations encompassing them.

Afterwards and before pulling out, Pulse is stroking one of his thighs gently and he doesn’t even care he’s smearing semen everywhere. “You know, maybe we should steal some of these, Jordan. For future experimenting.”

He can do nothing about the grin slowly spreading on his face as he takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Maybe we should.”

[oflgtfol]

passengers (2016) had the potential to be such a good movie but it was written in such a wrong way and it just wound up being shitty and gross........

im in such a ranty mood lately so yeah. this is long and probably incoherent so its under a read more

like if they wrote it from aurora’s perspective it couldve been such a cool space horror film. im not a big film buff so idk but i rarely see space horror moves? i see it more often in literature. but even then most space horror stories are all like, aliens and shit, but space is so vast and interesting, space horror has the capacity to be so unique and different from normal horror... aliens are basically just the demons and monsters on earth just in a different setting

space horror stories that really get me - the ones that really fucking chill me to the bone, that actually succeed in creeping me out - are always the ones that focus on being alone. space is so isolating, its so completely different from earth, like out there you are the loneliest you will ever be. you can be lonely in your bedroom but ultimately you’re on a planet with 7 billion other people, but in space, there is no one around for millions, billions, trillions of miles, hundreds and thousands of light years. you cannot get to safety. you are stuck in your situation whether you like it or not and nobody will come to help you. nobody will even know.

if your situation takes the wrong turn, then you will well and truly die alone in a way that nobody else has ever experienced before. its such a chilling concept and its completely realistic too, like i will always come back to the first moon landing when discussing this. nobody knew whether they could get the astronauts back to earth. they went down to the surface with no certainty that this place wouldnt be their deathbeds. they were the first 2 people to ever step foot on the moon, to ever step foot on a surface that wasn’t earth. if they couldnt get back up, then they would also be the first 2 people to die there, to die on a place that wasnt earth. it fucks me up so bad. so space horror is also so chilling because its plausible, this is the unknown we’re exploring and everything is new. everything in space is so far apart, its so lonely, and that fact remains true whether you’re talking about real life space travel or an event in fiction, which makes it feel way more genuine that regular horror. horror that deals with the supernatural loses that realism and it feels fake, like that wont happen to me because monsters and demons just dont exist

so you could take this conflict, one between humans, and put it into space? it becomes even more horrifying

with a horror movie set on earth dealing with a kidnapping, you root for the protagonist, for them to escape, for them to kill their captor if they must, and no matter how helpless the situation may seem you root for them because all they need to do is have access to phone to call 911, or grab that hammer and their problems are over, or kick their captor in the groin and make a break for the street. the helplessness from this story is that freedom is so close, yet so far

a horror movie set in space dealing with a kidnapping? the victim is stuck there no matter what. they can kill their captor. they could send a distress call. they could reach an escape pod and make a break for it. but no matter what, they are still stuck in space. you are so utterly isolated that a distress call could take years upon years upon eons to reach anyone who could possibly answer, and an escape pod would take even longer unless it can go at light speed

so the horror of the situation with space horror is that everything is up to you, and if you fail? its over.

with passengers though, its not that simple. because there its not just “up to you,” it is just utterly futile. jim took aurora out of her pod and no matter what she does will change that. her situation is irreversible

(i havent seen it in a while but i know towards the end there was that emergency pod, but uhm. did she even know about it until jim told her about it? yeah. that adds to the horror of it)

the film however. is written from jim’s perspective. the film deals with this isolation a bit at the beginning which i had actually enjoyed in that kinda sick oh no feeling that space horror like this always gives me. it was interesting to actually see it depicted in a movie! i’ve only read about this kinda situation in a written story in only one book, but im sure theres more out there, but either way it was novel for me

and the temptation of opening aurora’s pod is what adds to it. its either you go fucking insane because you live out the next few decades with no other human contact, you kill yourself, or you open up someone else and suffer with someone else by your side, but thats the BAD route and now you’re a horrible person. its a serious moral question! you go a whole year of being utterly, completely alone with absolutely zero human contact, but you are surrounded by other humans. its fucking painful. i cant even imagine that

i respect that portion of the film! i do! but then he opens up aurora’s pod. and it suddenly becomes a romance movie, and continues to be framed in jim’s perspective. bad move.

if we took out jim’s spiraling descent to opening up aurora’s pod, and started the film with her waking up, frame it as a romance movie, it could be really good. the reveal where she found out he is the reason shes awake, he’s the one who robbed her of life, her potential, her everything she ever knew. he’s stranded her in the middle of nowhere for the sole reason of keeping him company

the sheer impact of this revelation is lost because the movie is in jim’s perspective. we already sympathize with him due to the beginning. he was introduced first, and his suffering was obvious, so we look at aurora and its almost like we should think well thats all well and good but poor jim! but jim had the comfort that at least him waking up was just a random event. aurora was woken up because he was awake. if he was still asleep, then so would she, and she would still have her life and future. and even if someone was still randomly woken up, if it wasnt jim of all people, then she would most likely still be awake too. its all the horrible circumstances intersecting and she got caught in the crossfires due to him succumbing to his situation.

now i’m not saying that jim is evil. no one has ever been in this situation before. i really don’t know what the fuck i’d do and i don’t think anybody knows what they would do either until they were in his shoes. it’s all morally ambiguous and it’s just shitty all around - but ultimately, it was a horrible horrible decision that ruined another person’s life. he was directly responsible for her losing everything. and the fact that he hides this from her? is even fucking worse. it’s understandable, but my god is it BAD

and in making this a romance movie. the horror of aurora’s situation is just lost! because our goal is to see them kiss and fall in love by the end of the movie, so the audience isn’t meant to look to harshly at jim. he suffers no real consequences for his actions. and ultimately it is a romance, because jim ~sacrifices himself~ and aurora realizes that hey we’re gonna be here for the rest of our fucking lives, i might as well enjoy it. which is a shit attitude to have in a relationship of any kind by the way!

but by framing this as a horror movie, aurora could be wayy more sympathetic to the audience. the romantic angle when she first wakes up would feel insidious, and we would feel the betrayal when it’s revealed that jim is the reason she woke up. jim would be the villain obviously, and the moral ambiguity of his decision to wake her up would make him a relatable villain, but it would still hold him accountable for what he’s done. i just think the end product would be a lot more poignant than it was as a romance movie

and now to wrap it up, here’s my ideas on how to do it: film starts with aurora on earth before she’s about to leave, talking to all her friends and talking about how much she wants to go to this other planet, how great of an opportunity it would be. she boards the ship and goes under. and then within a few seconds, she’s waking up. the waking up scene is framed the same way jim’s was, and not from the side from jim’s perspective like it was in the actual movie. we get to see all her confusion and exhaustion from her perspective. once she’s acclimated or whatever, she’s futzing around the ship when jim stumbles upon her, acting all confused and excited to see another person, and its so genuine that nobody, including aurora, is any wiser that he’s the cause of it. then its all the romance shit, and falling in love, its fun, she’s like “oh my god it sucks that we’re stuck like this and we’re gonna die alone” and they comfort each other, yadda yadda, its meant to build trust between them and between the audience and jim. maybe theres a few scenes peppered in that build suspense like, wtf is going on, but ultimately the Jim Trust scenes kinda turn us/her away from that. but then its aurora talking to the robot guy and the robot guy lets it slip that jim was the one to wake her. it zooms into her face, and in the background you can see jim, all dark and blurred, looming over her. she goes to cry in her room or whatever, like she did in the movie, and its like flashes on previous scenes but now all the little hints to it make sense

anyway i dont have many more ideas just that at the end jim tells her about the extra pod and she goes in, and jim... hm.. maybe its vague.. maybe he lives out the rest of his days and he’s the one to leave the plants behind, maybe he died while sacrificing himself, idk. im not a horror writer. something to humanize jim, that this could’ve been anyone making this shitty decision while emotionally compromised, but still makes it clear that he was in the wrong, very in the wrong

the romance in the actual movie felt, like, poisoned because of what he did, and it rubbed me very wrong that they picked it back up all bc he was willing to die at the end to fix the spaceship. if anything, they should’ve only been friends. idk. actually focusing on aurora and her perspective feels like it could’ve taken the film in a much more interesting turn than just “standard het couple gets together in the end despite the girl being hurt by the guy” like every. fucking. movie.

[soldiermom1973]

And, as I am wont to do, I wrote something.  Here.  Enjoy.  (It’s also on AO3, if you want to swing by & leave me kudos and a pat on the head.) “Garrus, have you seen Kaidan?” Shepard was looking around for the man who said he'd handle the grill.  “Everyone's getting hungry and he promised he'd cook.” “Did you check the pool?”  Garrus's mandibles twitched like they did when something amused him. “No.  He said he didn't bring any trunks.”  Shepard frowned at the question.  “Why would he be in the pool?”  'Disappointed' was an understatement when Shepard saw Kaidan didn't have anything to change into to swim.  He had been looking forward to appreciating the view that was Kaidan's muscled & toned body. “I don't know, but it is hot out there and he was commenting about how nice the water looked,” the turian shrugged. Shepard shook his head and wandered to the sliding glass door that separated the kitchen from the patio.  He glanced around at the members of his crew, looking for the familiar bump of black hair.  Or, better yet, that delectable rear end.  A smile slowly crept across his face as he remembered what Kaidan was wearing – a pair of camoflauge-patterned cargo shorts and a skin tight, navy blue t-shirt.  The shorts hugged the biotic's hips in a very nice fashion and that shirt left nothing to the imagination. Shepard was quite looking forward to helping him get undressed later. Unable to find his boyfriend in the crowd of people he stepped closer to the pool and froze.  There, in the middle of the water and floating on a raft, was the target of his search.  He HAD decided to get in the pool, lack of trunks be damned. His hair was mussed in the front and his shorts had ridden up his leg enough to reveal just enough muscled thigh to leave Shepard dry-mouthed.  The shirt, though...  it was tight to begin with but now that it was wet, it hugged every muscle and curve on the major's torso.  An arm tucked behind his head accentuated a well-toned bicep and he was taking long, lazy swallows from his beer. Kaidan looked around, saw Shepard staring, and laughed.  “You weren't kidding,” he grinned.  “This water feels great.” Shepard could barely manage an 'uh huh' as the older made used his free hand to paddle to the side.  He cleared his throat and asked, “When were you going to throw the steaks on the grill?” Kaidan handed him his beer, rolled off the raft, then hoisted himself out of the water.  “Well, I'm going to guess that since you came to find me, I should probably do that now, hm?” He stepped closer to Shepard and his voice dropped to that husky tone that went right to Shepard's groin. “Steaks now and later you can make sure I'm completely dried off. What do you say?” Shepard couldn't answer, only gape after Kaidan as he ambled off in the direction of the grill.  He was immensely thankful the major decided not to bring those swim trunks after all.

Head Canon: Kaidan on shore leave, obviously.

[ixvyupdates]

I’m a Teacher Not a Boxer, and I’m Tired of Being Beat Up by My Students

For most of his career Brett has worked at county-level special education that takes kids when their needs become too much for the local districts to handle. This may be due to behavior or medical needs.

I had a job interview recently. Even though I am pretty well known for my work with older students I was interviewing for a K-2 classroom. There are lots of reasons for the change but there is one reason I have kept to myself. I’m kind of ashamed to say it.

I’m tired of getting beat up.

I don’t mean beat up in the “teaching is hard” kind of way. I mean getting physically assaulted. It’s the nasty secret that not many educators or districts like to talk about. But the truth is we have teachers, counselors, behavior management specialists and para-educators who are getting beaten regularly as part of their job.

I don’t mean an occasional push from an angry student. I mean a full on beating where you find yourself being taken to the ground by a student as big, if not bigger than you are.

I’m struggling to figure out how to put this into words. Words might not be enough.

My husband recently asked me how many times a student has threatened my life and as I moved through the list in my head I was kind of shocked when I passed 20. I didn’t answer his question because that’s another side to this part of the profession. We don’t really talk about it. I asked my assistants once how they handled questions like that from their spouses. They said they don’t share those stories unless they have to explain bruises or scratches. We were all hiding our abuse.

So I’m going to talk about it because that abuse in my past, is impacting the choices I’m making for my future. I’m tired of being beat up. I’m tired of being threatened. I don’t want people to say, “You’re a saint for putting up with that.” I want them to say, “How can we change the system so you are safer?”

If you are thinking I’m exaggerating about the threats to my life, I’m not. Twenty is where I stopped counting. That doesn’t include things like this picture a student gave me a few years ago.

I thought hard whether I should share this picture. I decided if I was going to discuss this darker side of being a teacher, then I have to share what I see. There is no humor in this picture. It breaks my heart to show you because any child in distress breaks my heart. The fact they are targeting me with their anger doesn’t change how I feel.

But that anger can often lead to violence.

And that violence is often directed at educators.

I would like to share a picture with you.

This was the day I was named Teacher of the Year. It’s a day most people would remember as a great honor. But the truth is I am thinking of something else. You’ll notice I’m kind of hunched over and my shirt is laying oddly. A few days before this picture was taken I was beaten to the ground by a student. They used a TV cord to whip me and then bit me so badly I was sent to the hospital. I’m not sitting up straight in this picture because my abdomen is wrapped with bandages and gauze.

As I sit here in this picture, at a surprise assembly with every local news channel filming, I am thinking two things: One, I’m worrying my wound is weeping through my shirt. Two, I’m debating if I should make a statement about violence against teachers and take off my shirt. My supervisor later told me she was thinking the same thing and said she was psychically telling me, “Don’t take off your shirt! Don’t take off your shirt!”

I didn’t take off my shirt and five years later I still kind of wish I had. I wish I had started this conversation then, when the media was right there ready to take note. Because nobody is paying attention. And nobody is keeping data.

And so I made a list. I kept some data. I’m going to share it with you. Be warned, if you have been a victim of violence, this list may be a trigger. It was for me.

Four times I have been sent to the hospital by a student.

I have been hit and slapped more times than I can count.

I have been bit on the shoulder, wrist, stomach, buttock and both forearms.

One of those bites infected me with hepatitis, there was no sink where I was bit so I had to pour hand sanitizer into the wound. I don’t recommend that.

I’ve been hit over the back and head with a chair…twice.

I’ve been hit in the head with a stick, and later hit with a bigger stick.

I’ve had enough books thrown at me to start a small library. Besides books I’ve been hit by a stapler, a tape dispenser, rocks, dirt clods, shoes, scissors, several lunches, a broom, balls and had a live mole trap thrown at my head…I could go on but basically, if it is in a classroom, it’s been thrown at me. I’ve replaced four sets of glasses from students hitting me in the face.

I’ve had my eye spit in multiple times.

If you lined up all the scratches end to end I would not be exaggerating to say it would be over 20 feet of torn up skin.

I’ve been punched so hard I saw stars, not once, not twice, but three times.

I’ve been kicked in the face, kicked in the groin, kicked in the stomach, kicked in the groin again and again and punched there once so violently I had to go to the doctor and was bruised for over two weeks.

I can go on. Seriously. This data is incomplete. I didn’t even talk about the student who, according to district data, tried to hit me over 300 times on one day. The student would walk in the room and start swinging. That student sent me to the hospital three different times, jammed several of my fingers trying to keep his punches from landing. After the student snuck up behind me and hit me over the back and head with a chair I quit teaching for seven years.

That’s my data.

It’s incomplete.

If I was a boxer they’d probably call me a prizefighter and retire me. But I’m not, I’m a teacher.

And I’m tired of being beat up.

And I’m ready to talk about it.

I’m in Bangladesh Right Now to Help Students With Special Needs and I Won’t Come Back the Same Teacher I Was Before

https://educationpost.org/im-in-bangladesh-right-now-to-help-students-with-special-needs-and-i-wont-come-back-the-same-teacher-i-was-before/embed/#?secret=P710dEUVaD

Photo by z ii n e, Twenty20-licensed.

I’m a Teacher Not a Boxer, and I’m Tired of Being Beat Up by My Students syndicated from https://sapsnkraguide.wordpress.com

[baekhyunsahoe]

red rover, red rover

SHANNARA CHRONICLES AU ; BAEKYEOL

=======

“What are you, half elf half stupid?”

Chanyeol’s pointy ears flush with embarrassment. Apparently, not only did today’s forecast include getting ambushed by a wandering bloodthirsty troll two steps into Chanyeol’s wholesome quest to reach the village of healers, but another attack is in store for him albeit verbally by his so called ‘savior’.

“No. I’m actually half elf, half human,” Chanyeol answers though he’s pretty sure that was a rhetorical question. He’s still on the floor having not recovered just yet. The muds soaked into his trousers leaving a questionable poo looking stain on his behind but that was the least of his worries.

His ‘savior’ looks down at him from his stance atop the grassy hill. Between them is the fallen troll, a sickle lodged in it’s thick neck. Dead. Like Chanyeol’s hopes and dreams to be a healer. He can’t even save himself. Who was he kidding.

“Yeah, and you were almost a full course meal, if it wasn’t for me.”

He’s a rover. It’s obvious. Bandits of the lands with no real home and stealing to get by. Chanyeol feels he might have had better chances against the troll. It’s a good thing he doesn’t really have anything worthy in his possessions. Well he does have magical elf stones his father left him but they probably didn’t do shit. Chanyeol’s wondering if he should offer his soiled pants as a token of appreciation when he’s approached.

He finally gets a good look at the fella.

Oh, he’s attractive. It had been kind of hard to do full body check outs when a breath away from death but this close, hovering over him in the broad daylight Chanyeol can see that this guy has a distractingly pretty face. His hair was a dark red, burgundy, a deep wine. Side swept bangs over dark kohl rimmed eyes. He had rather pink lips that were thin but pouty at the same time. The most noticeable thing about him was his outfit. Bad ass looking jacket, check. Tight form fitting pants that only drew more attention to his hips, and thighs and probably his ass too but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. He had straps around both thighs with weapons tucked in it. He had black cut out gloves on. Chanyeol was staring.

“I’ll let you get on your knees and worship me later, but we should probably head out of here before the wolves pick up the scent.” He kicks lazily at the dead troll’s head, causing the blood to ooze. Chanyeol instantly feels sick at the sight of it but the rover doesn’t seem to care, crouching and robbing the troll of it’s weapons. Did trolls even carry around gold?

“What are you waiting for?”

Chanyeol snaps out of it getting to his feet. He towers over his new companion, if he can even call him that.

“T-thanks,” Chanyeol finally gets around to saying. “Your name is?”

For a second he doesn’t look like he is going to tell him but then, “Baekhyun. And if you think I’m getting all touched you don’t want to refer to me as low thieving rover in your mind, you can shove it.”

“No! I wasn’t thinking that. I don’t judge. My name is Chanyeol by the way.”

“Okay,” Baekhyun couldn’t sound more uninterested as he hops onto his horse, and looks down at Chanyeol. “Are you coming or what?”

“Oh!” Chanyeol scrambles on the white stallion. His groin is against Baekhyun’s ass. He could feel his ears heat up in embarrassment yet again.

“Well don’t be shy.” Baekhyun’s tone is a sweet but he’s clearly teasing and being sarcastic. “Hold on. I’m not coming back for you if you fall off.”

Chanyeol doesn’t want to admit he squeaks in reply but he does because Baekhyun pulls the reigns without even waiting for Chanyeol to secure himself. Naturally, he flails and ends up grabbing the first place within arms reach which happens to be Baekhyun’s waist.

“Someone is making themselves at home,” Baekhyun comments drily because Chanyeol is holding onto him for dear life. He wasn’t sure who was a maniac, Baekhyun or the horse. They were going so fast, wildly through the forest that trees were becoming blurs of green.

“I’m sorry!” Chanyeol’s voice is drowned out by the wind. Talk about horse power. “You’re going pretty fast.”

“I can say the same thing about you,” Baekhyun’s probably referring to the way Chanyeol’s basically pressed up against him in a backhug, a bit intimate for two people who just met ten minutes ago.

“Sorry Baekhyun but I – wah – “ the horse literally gallops three feet in the air – Chanyeol’s life flashes before his eyes. “If I don’t hold on like this, I’ll fall off – “

“I know. I’m messing with you. Don’t hurt yourself.” Baekhyun abruptly pulls on the reigns. Chanyeol nearly catapults off at the sudden halt.

They’ve arrived at some sort of small lake with a peaceful waterful between large rocks. It looks pleasant and serene. Safe. Chanyeol’s looking around, taking in his surroundings when Baekhyun interrupts the silence.

“Light is thirsty.”

“Light?”

“Yes, Light.” Baekhyun leans forward to half pets half cuddle his horse’s mane, “Who do you think you’ve been riding this whole time?”

Oh right Light. Because Chanyeol is a horse whisperer and gets visions their birth certificate during their first rodeo.

“We should get him some water then.”

“Now you’ve got some good ideas.” Baekhyun praises with that same sarcastic teasing tone that was borderline flirtacious. “Did you wanna take a dip?”

Chanyeol’s not really accustomed to going skinny dipping with strangers no matter how attractive and questionably friendly they were.

“I took a bath yesterday.” Chanyeol says awkwardly. It sounded less gross in his mind.

“You also fell in a bunch of troll shit when I saved you earlier.”

“WHAT!”

“I’m just kidding.” Baekhyun laughs, finally done cuddling Light, and hopping off. His firm but round ass jiggles in his tight pants. Chanyeol gulps. Were all rovers this hot?

“Ha ha.” He mutters, jumping off the horse as well. Baekhyun walks it to the water, and it drinks instantly.

Chanyeol’s so busy watching Light practically inhale the water that he doesn’t notice Baekhyun is staring at him. When he does, he makes eye contact, but can’t hold it, and makes a constipated nervous face as he focus on a random tree branch in the background.

“So did you want to tell me what you were doing wandering around troll territory?”

Chanyeol’s eyes widen. “that was troll territory?”

“Yes Chanyeol.” He patronizes. “And you were wandering in it… “ his eyes scan chanyeol’s body, stopping at his waist area. Chanyeol fidgets. “without a weapon I’m guessing.”

“Well I’ve never really had much experience with a sword.” Chanyeol admits sheepishly. Its true. He grew up in a small village. There weren’t really many reasons to go around and practice stabbing things.

“Oh so did you want to die or something?”

“What, no.” Chanyeol pouts.

“I’m just curious what a innocent little country boy like you is doing out by himself… totally defenseless.”

“Now that you mention it, I am on a journey to Stockholm. That’s where they specialize in healing. I’m an aspiring healer… after my mom d – nevermind.” Chanyeol feels the hurt all over again. Baekhyun’s expression doesn’t change.

“What happened to your mom?”

“She passed away. I … couldn’t save her.” Chanyeol stops, on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Baekhyun frowns, playful demeanor gone for once. “I guess now would be a bad time to tell you I need you to give me all your valuables or else I’ll kill you…?”

Chanyeol thinks he’s hearing things, he hopes he’s hearing things but then Baekhyun pulls out a small knife.

“it’s nothing personal. My boss just wont be happy if I come back with no loot. No loot means no good. And if youre no good then should you even be alive? You understand right?” Baekhyun steps closer to chanyeol whos frozen in place. “no hard feelings.”

“Baekhyun I, I have nothing valuable. You can search me. I have like two coins of gold.” Chanyeol strangely doesn’t feel as scared as he was when the random troll attacked him earlier. Its probably because Baekhyun wasn’t really looking at him like he wanted to murder him.  no there was something else in his eyes.

“That’s sad. I almost want to let you keep it.” Baekhyun says sincerely as he reaches into chanyeol’s pocket and takes the coins. “Is that really all you have to offer me?” Baekhyun purses his lips, like this was a casual exchange.

“Yeah. I… “

Baekhyun notices the necklace from beneath chanyeol’s shirt.

“What’s that?” He gestures with the knife.

“It’s from my mom.” Chanyeol whispers, and feels like he might actually cry now because that was special with sentimental value.

“Oh.” Baekhyun says. Then sighs. “youre not making this easy for me you know.”

“I’m sorry –  “

“no seriously. Youre so pathetic. Who apologizes while theyre getting mugged? And two coins. God, I’m basically going to eat crumbs tonight with this kind of loot.” Baekhyun sounds stressed now. “Not even worth it.” He sighs. “I’m not even going to try to report in tonight. Come on.”

“W-what?”

Baekhyun waves a hand at him and tugs at his horse. They walk a couple minutes before they reach a little hut, like a treehouse of sorts.

“Whoa.” Chanyeol comments. It looked unstable but quaint and quite nice. “You live here?”

“You don’t get to ask me questions chanyeol.” Baekhyun says flippantly. He ties light next to a nearby tree and gestures to the rickety wooden stairs leading into the make shift house. “Ladies first.” He coos sweetly while bowing with his knife.

Chanyeol pouts at the jab, but heads up.

Theres only one window, and with the sun going down, pretty dim in the homely room. Its wooden and nicely furnished. Blablablabla.

“this is nice.” Chanyeol comments slowly, wondering why Baekhyun even brought him here.

“well youre nice so.” Baekhyun points to the couch. “sit. Ill make you a drink.”

He stirs something as chanyeol takes a seat on the sofa.

“are you still trying to rob me? Because I realized yeah I don’t have much. I can help you make some money from the next village so you can have more to show for to your boss -- “ chanyeol rambles.

“we’ve talked enough don’t you think?” Baekhyun interrupts turning around with two drinks in hand. “we can worry about all that tomorrow. I want to spend tonight with you.”

Chanyeol’s ears do it again. Baekhyun smiles at him as he sits on the small chair adjacent to the couch. He passes chanyeol the drink. He takes off his jacket leaving him in a sleeveless shirt, exposing more of his smooth pale skin and a teasing glimpse of his collarbones, his shirt was pretty lowcut now that the jacket wasn’t in the way. The sunset bathes the room in a seductive glow. Baekhyun looks even sexier in this lighting.

“I’m glad you changed your mind. but really, I don’t mind helping you. I mean I do owe you my life.” Chanyeol goes back to rambling becauase he was really fucking nervous. Could it be, was Baekhyun making moves on him?! no way.

“uhhuh.” Baekhyun nods, and passes chanyeol the drink. it’s a red liquid that looks like wine. “should we make a toast to that?”

“oh sure!” chanyeol raises his glass and clinks it against Baekhyuns. “to you.”

“no,” baekhyun smiles and hes actually really fucking beautiful. “to us.”

Chanyeol feels a warm feeling, butterflies in his stomach, when he hears those sentiments and he drinks to that. Baekhyun watches him.

“you know, its really such a shame. You’re pretty cute. And tall. Totally my type. If you ignore the half elf bit. But then again ive never been with an elf before…” Baekhyun is giving chanyeol bedroom eyes and chanyeol laughs nervously as he sips his drink some more. It tasted pretty good, sweet. it was making him a little dizzy and whew did he have a long day or what beacause he aws suddenly having a difficult time opening his mouth to even form a sentence. What did Baekhyun just say? He was his type?

Baekhyun suddenly sitting beside him, drink nowhere in sight. Hes gazing at chanyeol intensely. “if there circumstances were different, id totally take this further.” Baekhyun sounds torn, and chanyeol is just about to cheerfully ask what on earth it is he is talking about, but then baekhyun’s lips are on his and he’s being kissed. Holy crap. He is in so much shock that he doesn’t even close his eyes. Baekhyun presses his mouth firmly against chanyeol’s once, twice, then he’s pulling away but still close enough to see the freckles on his face. “I am really sorry about your mother chanyeol. And your father. But you have the elfstones. And I need them.” He grabs the drink from chanyeol’s hand as chanyeol’s world spins. “also – im really sorry about the headache youre going to have tomorrow.”

Everything goes dark.

-- \fcs0 \>�_\�

[ixvyupdates]

I’m a Teacher Not a Boxer, and I’m Tired of Being Beat Up by My Students

For most of his career Brett has worked at county-level special education that takes kids when their needs become too much for the local districts to handle. This may be due to behavior or medical needs.

I had a job interview recently. Even though I am pretty well known for my work with older students I was interviewing for a K-2 classroom. There are lots of reasons for the change but there is one reason I have kept to myself. I’m kind of ashamed to say it.

I’m tired of getting beat up.

I don’t mean beat up in the “teaching is hard” kind of way. I mean getting physically assaulted. It’s the nasty secret that not many educators or districts like to talk about. But the truth is we have teachers, counselors, behavior management specialists and para-educators who are getting beaten regularly as part of their job.

I don’t mean an occasional push from an angry student. I mean a full on beating where you find yourself being taken to the ground by a student as big, if not bigger than you are.

I’m struggling to figure out how to put this into words. Words might not be enough.

My husband recently asked me how many times a student has threatened my life and as I moved through the list in my head I was kind of shocked when I passed 20. I didn’t answer his question because that’s another side to this part of the profession. We don’t really talk about it. I asked my assistants once how they handled questions like that from their spouses. They said they don’t share those stories unless they have to explain bruises or scratches. We were all hiding our abuse.

So I’m going to talk about it because that abuse in my past, is impacting the choices I’m making for my future. I’m tired of being beat up. I’m tired of being threatened. I don’t want people to say, “You’re a saint for putting up with that.” I want them to say, “How can we change the system so you are safer?”

If you are thinking I’m exaggerating about the threats to my life, I’m not. Twenty is where I stopped counting. That doesn’t include things like this picture a student gave me a few years ago.

I thought hard whether I should share this picture. I decided if I was going to discuss this darker side of being a teacher, then I have to share what I see. There is no humor in this picture. It breaks my heart to show you because any child in distress breaks my heart. The fact they are targeting me with their anger doesn’t change how I feel.

But that anger can often lead to violence.

And that violence is often directed at educators.

I would like to share a picture with you.

This was the day I was named Teacher of the Year. It’s a day most people would remember as a great honor. But the truth is I am thinking of something else. You’ll notice I’m kind of hunched over and my shirt is laying oddly. A few days before this picture was taken I was beaten to the ground by a student. They used a TV cord to whip me and then bit me so badly I was sent to the hospital. I’m not sitting up straight in this picture because my abdomen is wrapped with bandages and gauze.

As I sit here in this picture, at a surprise assembly with every local news channel filming, I am thinking two things: One, I’m worrying my wound is weeping through my shirt. Two, I’m debating if I should make a statement about violence against teachers and take off my shirt. My supervisor later told me she was thinking the same thing and said she was psychically telling me, “Don’t take off your shirt! Don’t take off your shirt!”

I didn’t take off my shirt and five years later I still kind of wish I had. I wish I had started this conversation then, when the media was right there ready to take note. Because nobody is paying attention. And nobody is keeping data.

And so I made a list. I kept some data. I’m going to share it with you. Be warned, if you have been a victim of violence, this list may be a trigger. It was for me.

Four times I have been sent to the hospital by a student.

I have been hit and slapped more times than I can count.

I have been bit on the shoulder, wrist, stomach, buttock and both forearms.

One of those bites infected me with hepatitis, there was no sink where I was bit so I had to pour hand sanitizer into the wound. I don’t recommend that.

I’ve been hit over the back and head with a chair…twice.

I’ve been hit in the head with a stick, and later hit with a bigger stick.

I’ve had enough books thrown at me to start a small library. Besides books I’ve been hit by a stapler, a tape dispenser, rocks, dirt clods, shoes, scissors, several lunches, a broom, balls and had a live mole trap thrown at my head…I could go on but basically, if it is in a classroom, it’s been thrown at me. I’ve replaced four sets of glasses from students hitting me in the face.

I’ve had my eye spit in multiple times.

If you lined up all the scratches end to end I would not be exaggerating to say it would be over 20 feet of torn up skin.

I’ve been punched so hard I saw stars, not once, not twice, but three times.

I’ve been kicked in the face, kicked in the groin, kicked in the stomach, kicked in the groin again and again and punched there once so violently I had to go to the doctor and was bruised for over two weeks.

I can go on. Seriously. This data is incomplete. I didn’t even talk about the student who, according to district data, tried to hit me over 300 times on one day. The student would walk in the room and start swinging. That student sent me to the hospital three different times, jammed several of my fingers trying to keep his punches from landing. After the student snuck up behind me and hit me over the back and head with a chair I quit teaching for seven years.

That’s my data.

It’s incomplete.

If I was a boxer they’d probably call me a prizefighter and retire me. But I’m not, I’m a teacher.

And I’m tired of being beat up.

And I’m ready to talk about it.

I’m in Bangladesh Right Now to Help Students With Special Needs and I Won’t Come Back the Same Teacher I Was Before

https://educationpost.org/im-in-bangladesh-right-now-to-help-students-with-special-needs-and-i-wont-come-back-the-same-teacher-i-was-before/embed/#?secret=P710dEUVaD

Photo by z ii n e, Twenty20-licensed.

I’m a Teacher Not a Boxer, and I’m Tired of Being Beat Up by My Students syndicated from https://sapsnkraguide.wordpress.com