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shima-draws · 3 years

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THIS IS SEVERAL DAYS (WEEKS?) LATE BUT I LOVE YOU ALL thanks for enabling me

-The AU begins with a casual city patrol. Izuku, Todoroki, Uraraka and Ojiro are teamed up. Things are seemingly normal until they accidentally bump into Shigaraki and Kurogiri—a completely unplanned encounter. Despite Kurogiri’s warnings, Shigaraki charges into battle against the students. Kurogiri jumps in to back him up by using his warps

-There’s a close call where Izuku’s about to get the jump on Shiggy—but Kurogiri manages to open a warp right before Izuku can reach him. This is where things get...funky.

-Izuku activates One For All as he disappears into the warp. Kurogiri opens a gate somewhere nearby. Todoroki and the others wait for Izuku to reappear...but he doesn’t.

-Todoroki, Uraraka and Ojiro gang up on Kurogiri and demand their friend back. Kurogiri doesn’t know what to do, this has never happened before, and he doesn’t know how to bring Izuku back. Apparently his warp malfunctioned, and Izuku seemed to get lost between dimensions.

-Finally, several minutes later, Izuku reappears. In the ensuing chaos Kurogiri and Shigaraki make their escape. Izuku is weak and shaking from the distorted warp, so Todoroki calls Aizawa and takes him back to campus.

-Izuku explains that it felt like he was falling, and almost like his entire body was trying to rip itself apart molecule by molecule—but then he fell back into the warp and came out on the other side like he was supposed to. Recovery Girl checks on him and just says that he’s in shock, no other injuries besides that. Izuku tries telling her about the strange feeling of pain he had, but she just says it might be a side effect of Kurogiri’s quirk, and that it might be some sort of delayed reaction. Izuku accepts that and things go back to normal

Rest is under the cut because she is looooooong lmao

-Except they don’t. Izuku starts to have strange dreams about somebody calling out to him. They leave him feeling unsettled and shaky in the mornings, almost like how he felt right after the warp. The dreams don’t go away—they keep coming back almost every night, and while they seem to get clearer, he still can’t figure out what they mean.

-Things start to get worse when the dreams transition over into the waking world, and Izuku starts to see flashes of someone with white hair and sad eyes in the corners of his vision. He easily gets distracted during training, and can’t seem to shake the worried feeling he has about this being important.

-It all comes to a head when Izuku suddenly finds himself in that weird place between dimensions during a training drill. He’s only there for a few seconds, but he’s finally able to catch a glimpse of what that world is like, because the last time he was there he was falling and spiraling and was too panicked to pay attention to his surroundings. After he snaps back to himself, he wonders if it was just in his head, but when it happens again and his friends have to shake him out of it, he realizes that his mind keeps transporting to that world...it seems like his place in reality is faltering.

-The “visions” slowly continue to get longer and longer each time, with Izuku slipping into that world more often. It’s getting harder to hide it from his classmates and teachers, and finally, there’s a time where it happens and Izuku is unresponsive for over 15 minutes. The person with the white hair keeps showing up, and Izuku is desperate to find out who they are

-During another training session, Izuku feels the lapse coming on, and decides to hide away for a bit to let it pass. Except this time he doesn’t just slip into the nether dimension with just his mind—this time his whole body transports there...and he finally figures out the truth.

-Izuku searches through the new world. Everything is distorted and gravity is all topsy turvy, and when he finally catches sight of the person reaching out to him in his dreams, he follows them. At long last he discovers just who has been communicating with him...and it’s himself!!

-The mystery ghost is finally revealed: an older Izuku, from another timeline. He explains to Izuku that the place they’re in now is a world between time and space that acts as a stabilizer and general overseer of other timelines and worlds. He refers to it as the Beyond, or by its more technical name, the nexus. Apparently the other Izuku has been here for a long time, keeping watch over all of his alternate selves and keeping the timelines in balance.

-Izuku questions just why he was brought there, and his alternate self tells him that when he activated One For All in Kurogiri’s warp, it ripped open a hole in space and he was able to make a connection to the Beyond, primarily because of his alternate self’s already existing presence there. That connection is unfortunately unstable so it kept pulling Izuku back in over time. The other Izuku has been trying to fix that connection but wasn’t able to do so without full contact, which is why he’d been reaching out to Izuku in his dreams.

-To make things easier, the other Izuku asks to be called Nexus. Izuku peppers him with questions, but Nexus is reluctant to answer. He decides to send Izuku back while he researches about his connection there to try and fix it—and then he makes Izuku swear that he won’t tell anybody about their interaction, mostly because outsiders shouldn’t be aware of the Beyond’s existence in the first place.

-Izuku arrives back in his world and realizes that several hours have passed since he vanished into the Beyond. His classmates and teachers swarm him when he returns, saying that they were about to send out pros to go find him. Toshinori questions Izuku about what’s been going on with him lately, but due to the promise he made Izuku can’t answer.

-As the days pass, Izuku continuously visits Nexus (mostly because he has no choice in the matter, being dragged there by the distortion lol) and tries to pry more answers out of him. Nexus is shockingly tight lipped and Izuku knows that something bad must have happened in his timeline for him to be here. Being older isn’t the only factor tying into Nexus’ general quiet demeanor and more serious attitude. Meanwhile, Toshinori and the Dekusquad are hurt by Izuku’s silence on what’s going on with him, and Izuku has an internal struggle over what matters more: the promise he made, or the trust of his friends and family. It’s a rough time.

-Izuku breaks down and Nexus realizes that maybe it’s time he starts being more forthcoming—he knows what the burden of secrets does to Izuku, being Izuku himself. Nexus finally reveals that his timeline had been completely wiped from existence centuries ago, due to an epic, climactic battle with AFO who was attempting to figure out how to access the Beyond and gain control over it in order to rule over all possible timelines. Apparently there was a backlash when AFO tried to access the Beyond and it caused the timeline to be erased. Izuku is absolutely horrified by the truth, realizing that billions of people existing in that timeline are just...gone now. Including everyone he loves.

-Izuku asks if AFO is gone too. Nexus looks haunted by that, but says he’s sure that he’s gone for good...leaving himself as the only proof that his world even existed at all. After Izuku leaves, Nexus decides to do a bit of digging, just to make sure that the AFO from his world truly is dead. And what he finds is not comforting.

-Apparently, after the timeline had been wiped from existence, Nexus wasn’t the only one who was tossed out before it happened. He discovers that AFO is still around, and that he’s been skulking between timelines, gathering new quirks and more power. Terrified, Nexus summons Izuku and tells him of his findings, and says that if AFO were to come after him in the Beyond, or any of them from any timeline, there’s no way they would survive the battle.

-Izuku convinces Nexus to come to his timeline to explain everything, because clearly this is no longer a one man job and something Nexus can’t handle by himself. The issue with that is that the Beyond has a strict no interference policy, at least on the basis of entering the timelines and tampering with them, so Nexus has been stuck there for centuries because he’s literally not allowed to go timeline hopping lol

-However, since Izuku was able to make a connection there and can travel between the two worlds freely (for the most part…) he’s able to utilize that connection to allow Nexus to enter his dimension. Nexus sees the sky for the first time in hundreds of years and is shaken into complete silence.

-The rest of the Dekusquad happen to be there when Izuku arrives with his alternate self and immediately bombard him with questions, but Izuku tells them the first thing they need to do is go see All Might and the other teachers to explain what’s going on.

-Upon seeing All Might again for the first time in centuries, Nexus bursts into tears (and this is a MONUMENTAL moment because Izuku hasn’t seen him cry once since meeting him, even when he told him that everyone he loved no longer exists). There’s a lot of fluffy family bonding and it’s very soft. Toshi holds onto both his boys and cries and I’M EMO LISTEN

-Nexus prepares to tell all the staff what’s going on, but first he reveals to Izuku that he didn’t...exactly tell him everything about what happened to his timeline. A quirk user is brought in who can read memories and project them on a movie screen, and the teachers and Izuku watch in horrified silence as they experience the last night of terror and heartbreak Nexus went through before his timeline was erased forever.

-The memories play back. Izuku is awoken in the middle of the night to find that the entire city is burning. The screams and pleas for help echo all around, and he finds that he can’t get into contact with any of his friends. Racing outside, Izuku looks up to see AFO silhouetted against the red sky, floating among the ashes and smoke. As Izuku hurries to catch up to him, he witnesses the sheer horror of a mass body count and hundreds dead along the way, including lots of minor and pro heroes that he knows.

-Izuku finally reaches AFO and immediately leaps into the fight. He doesn’t stand a chance. AFO has gathered too many quirks, and explains his plan to escape this dimension and gain access to the Beyond in order to spread his control further. Izuku is joined by his friends, but does not get to enjoy their help for long, because each of them are struck down, one by one. Fueled by rage and grief, Izuku ramps up OFA all the way and completely lets loose, chipping away at AFO while he cries over the deaths of his friends. Yeah this is gruesome and dark as shit and I’m not sorry

-AFO is about to get one final attack in—but Bakugou arrives at the last second and takes the blow for him. Bakugou dies in Izuku’s arms and that’s the last straw—OFA goes out of control right as AFO is preparing to open a warp to the Beyond, and the power spark causes a backlash that distorts everything, making the world glitch out.

-When Izuku wakes up, he finds himself in the Beyond with the blood of his friends on his hands. Information starts flooding into his brain about the Beyond and all of the timelines it’s tied to, and Izuku realizes what has happened. His home is gone...his friends, his family, the entire world...all wiped from existence. Now he is the only one left, tasked with taking care of the Beyond and mourning his losses for the rest of eternity.

-Needless to say, everyone watching the memories play are extremely emotional, and Izuku (our Izuku) is overcome with so much grief for his alternate self that they end up in an embrace, sharing a feeling that only they know between each other.

-Nezu and the other teachers agree to help Nexus defeat AFO once and for all. Nexus tells them that bringing in Class 1-A would be smart as well, and that he won’t make the same mistake twice and let them die. They decide to battle it out in the Beyond, it being the safest place to go wild without any risk of casualties or property destruction. And so!! Izuku introduces Nexus to the rest of the class, they all take a trip to the Beyond together, and so begins their grand training arc.

-Nexus preps each member of Class 1-A individually and on teams. They take turns going up against him and all get their asses thoroughly handed to them :) Nexus is hella strong and has had centuries to practice. He teaches them how to use the terrain of the Beyond, how to deal with the gravity and use it to their advantage. He tells them how to look for AFO’s tells and quirks so they can deal with his multipurpose battle style. Overall it’s a very fun yet stressful time with lots of bonding, sleepovers in the Beyond, and everybody getting a huge ass crush on Nexus because 1. He pretty, 2. He stronk, 3. He’s literally an eldritch being at this point, and 4. It’s Izuku. How can they not.

-There’s a time where Nexus takes Izuku to a special corner of the Beyond, and Izuku sees it’s covered for miles and miles and miles with gravestones. Izuku realizes that Nexus had spent years crafting as many as he could for all of the people that were erased from his timeline, even those he didn’t know, and at this point he’s lost count with how many there are. There’s a separated section with all of his family members and friends, and each of the stones are carved with special memorials. The rest of the class shows up and gets to look at their own gravestones and it’s fucked up as shit!! It’s very emotional and then everybody smothers Nexus with hugs and hgnhhhgh 🥺

Obviously there’s a lot that happens after this and the whole battle and everything but like. I don’t have all that planned out yet. But this is the general idea for the most part!! I’ve had a lot of fun brainstorming for this AU, I would do anything for Nexus period, and I’m super excited to start making content for it >:D

THANK YOU FOR READING and thanks for letting me infodump oh my god this is so long

#BNHA #Boku no Hero Academia #My Hero Academia #MHA #BNHA AU #Distortion Link AU #Midoriya Izuku #Deku #Dekubowl #Tododeku #Bakudeku #All Might #Dad Might #Toshinori Yagi #Nexus #Shima's AUs #Shima answers questions #Long post #Friends

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quillsareswords · 3 years

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1:20

Damian Wayne x reader

SUMMARY: You're lucky you've memorized Robin's schedule: it might me the only saving grace you've got left.

WARNINGS: blood, near-death

Master List in bio

It's 1:20 on a Tuesday morning in early June.

Gotham never really gets hot, but the humidity suffocates anything that might think that's a relief. You didn't check the weather this evening. You probably should have.

It's 1:20 on a Tuesday morning. He's gonna be here. You've had mixed feelings about knowing his schedule this well in the past, but now it's the deciding factor of your fate.

It's 1:20. That means you've been bleeding like a stuck pig for ten straight minutes, even if it feels like it's been hours. Or seconds. You don't really know anymore. You're getting dizzy.

So you've leaned against the wall. Some little roof access point that stands tall above the gravel covering the rooftop. The brick digs into your shoulder, even through your jacket.

You're starting to think you've gotten it wrong. Or maybe he just didn't show today. Maybe you're out of luck this time.

It was dumb. Stupid to think that you could stop this. Stupid to think you would end any way other than alone.

It was on purpose, after all. Isolation, that is. You pushed and shoved everyone away with a friendly smile and kept them at arm's length, lest they wiggle their claws beneath your mask and expose you for every ugly thing you are.

You're a mole. An informant. Someone who plays every side all at once and somehow manages to stay neutral the whole time. You've been passing tips to the Bats for months now, means be damned. Trust was meager between you, but what little there is is mutual.

You'd hoped it'd be your saving grace. Hoped the side playing would leave you with at least one friend, even though it was the entire reason you're in this position in the first place. You had hoped your downfall would save you.

He appears before you two minutes late. 1:22 in the morning and he's late. He doesn't seem to have noticed you, a few feet away, surveying the street below him like it's his job (and it is), with his back to you.

"You're late, Birdy." Your voice comes quieter and rougher than it should, and the force it takes nearly sends you to the ground.

He spins around at the sound, hand already curled around the hilt of his sword by the time he faces you. He says your name lowly, like a warning, like always. His posture relaxes nonetheless. "You come with useful advice, I expect. The skirmish by the docks sounded quick, but Batman thinks–"

"I didn't know where else to go," you say suddenly, because you already know you aren't going to be conscious long enough for this conversation.

The effort gets you this time. Your knees, shaky as they've been, finally give out. You understand, and you forgive them; they carried you all the way here, after all. Your body turns on the way down, back of your jacket scraping terribly against the brick as your heels slide through the gravel. The noise you make is somewhere between a groan and a cry.

It rips the breath out of his lungs. Your name is in his mouth again as he drops to his knees beside you, gloved hands already pawing at the hand you have clamped around the knife still sheathed into your side.

"What happened?" he demands, and he's reaching for his pager with the other hand. "Who did this?"

You're too focused on the way your first name sounds in his voice. There's something nice about the way he spaces the syllables.

He says it again, all panic and worry, like he hasn't the time to mask it anymore.

You wonder for a moment if it has anything to do with his lingering stares and gruff get home safe's.

But then he's shaking your shoulder and you're wincing because it's bruised beneath the jacket.

"Stay awake, hey, stay with me. Batman is on his way. We'll fix this." There's a pause where he's sucking in a deep breath and you're trying to focus on his voice. "You're going to be fine."

You think it's a little funny. You managed to get all the way here, up a goddamn fire escape, but the moment you think he's got you, you lose all ability to keep yourself upright. You just want to sleep. You want to lay down and take a nice, long nap.

You hate to admit that it just might be because you trust him more than anyone else you know. You've only known him for a few months, but you're sure that you're safest with him. You're safe with him.

It shouldn't be much of a comfort, with Death staring you down like a lion on it's last meal. You won't need protecting if your decline doesn't level out soon. It's surprising what such little comfort feels like when you're staring Death down like a gazelle with an attitude problem.

You don't remember being moved. Or how you ended up in a medical bed with stiff, scratchy sheets and a nearly flat pillow. You do remember hearing Damian's voice, fading in and our with your consciousness. The words are all garbled and quiet, but you know the recall the sound.

Alfred is the first person you see. He's unfamiliar, but he introduces himself and offers you a warm smile and a glass of water. He brings you a bowl of soup and hands you a bottle of painkillers and another of antibiotics.

You fall asleep again, listening to some little body of water just outside the white room you're settled in.

When you wake up, it's to the sound of an argument. Batman and Robin. It's hushed, angry and patient whispers back and forth, but it's an argument all the same. You've heard them bicker enough over the last few months to recognize it.

You can't quite make it out. You hear your name a few times, something about time, something about healing, something about help. Batman finishes it.

Robin swings the squeaky door open a few moments later.

He stops halfway into the room when he sees you're awake.

You wiggle your way up the mattress to lean against the pillows behind you. "Birdy."

He sighs. "You nearly bleed out in my arms and that's how you greet me?"

He doesn't sound quite right. A little deflated, maybe. Relieved? As if he'd been holding his breath before he entered the room, and just remembered how to breathe when he caught your eye.

Course, you can't be sure he caught it at all, with those white lenses.

You cock a shoulder. "I'm sure you've seen worse. I'm sure I'll have worse."

His posture shifts as he crosses the room. He shakes his head. "That's not funny."

"It's kind of funny," you try, throwing the best carefree smile you can manage when everything beneath your skin is so sore. "I'm the one who was bleeding, that means I'm allowed to make all the jokes I want."

"That's an unhealthy coping mechanism."

"So is dressing up in red and yellow and calling yourself a bird."

His shoulders drop again. You think you might see a smile, but he turns his head away too quickly. "You should be more careful. I can't always be there to drag you out of every fire, you know."

You cross your arms, raising both knees to take some pressure off of your abdomen. He takes it as an invitation and makes himself comfortable in the chair beside the bed. He finds a comfortable position with a little too much familiarity. "I don't expect you to. I wouldn't have even been there if I wasn't getting information for you."

"For Batman–"

"Potato, pa-tot-oh."

He goes rigid again. "I never would have asked you to put yourself in danger like that."

It's defensive. Appalled, almost. Offended.

You don't know how to reply. That doesn't seem to matter though, because he's not done.

"And even if I had, I would have gone with you. I would have made sure you had backup, I would have– this never would have happened."

There's a certain distain in his tone that catches you off guard. A resentment, toward you or his partner you aren't totally sure.

He runs gloved fingers through slick black hair. Heaves a breath. Pushes himself to his feet. Falsely composed. "You may stay as long as you need. Alfred will take care of you."

"Where are you going?" It slips out before you can stop it. And perhaps you could play if off as a standard question—you are in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar people, aside from him—but it's much too quick. It sounds a little too much like don't leave me.

And you know he hears it too, because he turns back around so quickly you wonder if he even considered it. "Patrol. It's Wednesday night." And yet he makes to move to leave.

You nod. "Right. Yeah. You're, uh, what? You're over by the city museum tonight, aren't you?" You want to smack yourself. What are you doing, making small talk? He's got places to be, people to save.

"Yes." The top seal of his mask flexes when he raises an eyebrow.

You nod again. An awkward smile on your lips. "I, uh, I didn't know how to feel about knowing where you'd be most of the week, but I guess I'm glad I do. Saved my skin last night, didn't it?"

He drawls in a deep breath. "Suppose it did."

There's a long pause. You aren't sure if you're breathing, but you're sure he isn't. He looks tense, like he's torn between saying something and leaving, body angled not quite toward you.

"You can always come to me," he says suddenly. He must read something on your face, because he tumbles straight into the next sentence. "Last night, you said you didn't know who to go to. I'm telling you now, you can always come to me. I'll fix it, whatever it is."

His voice is tight. A little unsure, but not in the statement. Like a hiker on a rocky trail; unsure of his footing, but certain in his destination.

There's something else in his words. Something scrawled between the lines in thin, fragile letters. Something deeper than wounds and needing backup.

I'll fix it, whatever it is.

Your heart rate picks up, and the heart monitor reveals your secrets on the screen beside you. What it can't reveal is the way the poor organ soars, throwing itself to the clouds with reckless abandon, completely uncaring of the hard trip back down.

You still don't know how to reply. You'd like to say something witty. A little sarcastic, maybe a smidge mean. He's giving you a glimpse at his heart, beating bloody in his hands, and there's a large part of you that wants to poke it. Nothing too wounding, just enough that he never makes the mistake again.

But you can't help it. There's a much larger part of you that wails, who wants to snatch it from him to shield and cradle, because he obviously can't be trusted with it. Not if he's baring it to you.

The deciding party is the reminder of last night. Dragging yourself up a rusted fire escape, praying to anyone who might listen that he'd be there. That he'd help you. You remember thinking he wouldn't. You remember the thought hanging above you like gravediggers as you settled into a coffin: you pushed everyone away, you don't leave room for those who want to help you.

"Thank you," you attempt, and it comes barely above a whisper. You allow it to be tender. You let it embody the raw little piece of you that utters it; the piece that wants so desperately to let him in. The piece that knew he'd save you. The tender little sliver of soul who still believed you deserved to be trusted and supported. The one who still hopes for meaningful connections, even among your collection of throw-away contacts.

You can see the way he relaxes. The way he melts inside his skin, like he'd been expecting you to poke when you could have. Like it lifts a weight off of him, knowing that you'll trust him enough to come to him in the future.

"I'll be back in a few hours. You should sleep."

You roll your eyes. "Sleep in some weird ass white room I've never been in, surrounded by a bunch if people I barely know. Yeah, I'm sure I'll sleep like a baby."

He recognizes that you aren't entirely serious, but he also recognizes the orange pill bottles on the table beside you. "If Alfred has you on those, I trust you will—no matter where you are."

You chuckle, he offers you the tiniest smile, and then he's gone. Vanished into the rest of whatever strange building he whisked you into.

You should be worried about it. Not knowing where you are, exactly who you're with, who has access to you. But you aren't. And it might be the medication making you compliant, and you'll look back on this in a week and be horrified—or it could be that you've broken all your own rules and thrust all if your trust into the hands of a boy you've never seen without a mask.

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader

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razorblade180-heated · 3 years

Text

Too much

[It’s a smut]

It was a normal day at Beacon. Same old classes. Same old delicious lunches. Same old Blake. Well, not entirely. The girl had a problem, a snag if you will. She was currently on her bed in her school uniform, sulking more than she usually does. She patiently waited for the door to open. As she did, The words of Weiss Schnee replayed through her brain…

xxxxx

“YOU ARE DATING J-” The heiress’s mouth was covered quickly by Blake, who looked panicked.

“Ssssshhhh! What part of secret did you not understand!?” Blake said through her teeth, “we don’t want attention.”

Weiss swatted the hand away and whispered, “Sorry, but you should know better than to reveal truths out of the blue like that by now. This is crazier than the last one to be frank.”

Blake wasn’t too thrilled in Weiss’s choice of words in regards to White Fang secret, but now wasn’t the time to bicker. Blake needed her help. “Weiss, I’d like…advice. Also a bit of help.”

“Okay? On what exactly?” The concern in her voice was palpable.

Blake’s face grew a little red. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. “Any...any ideas to get a guy to sleep with you?”

Now it was Weiss’s turn to blush. “Just who do you-” she lowered her voice in consideration, “just who do you think I am!? Why are you coming to me for this!?”

“Yang gets too involved in people’s business and Ruby is...she’s Ruby! I love the girl but this is not the topic she can handle.”

Weiss looked Blake up and down. Why the girl needed help was beyond Weiss’s comprehension. It was shocking Blake wasn’t beating admires back with a stick! “How long have you been dating Jaune?” She asked.

“About...five months now? That sounds right.”

Weiss could not believe her ears. Five months, how has no one noticed!? How didn’t she notice? Then again, she did find it a bit out of character of Jaune when he stopped all of romantic efforts. Looks like this was the reason why. It might’ve been her ego talking but it stung a little to know a guy moved to the next letter in her team’s name. Would Yang have been next if Blake, hold on. A thought just occurred.

“Did you ask him out, or did he ask you?” Weiss was very curious about this

Blake blinked. That was an unexpected question. “Me, why”

“No reason.” Well that actually made Weiss feel a bit better. Not that she cared or anything! “Why do you need help with...that? I would think he’d be all over you. Can’t you, ya know? Drop hints?” A terrible expression hit Weiss. “Please tell me that dunce is ignoring basic signs?” She groaned. It would only make sense.

Blake must’ve agreed because she laughed a little. “Hehe, No Weiss, he isn’t.” Blake rubbed her head in embarrassment, “He’s well aware I’m down for sex. With all the neck kisses and body touches, the message is clear.” Blake saw Weiss’s face scrunch up. “What?” She said defensively.

“It’s unpleasant thinking about Jaune in anything less than his armor. You know that hoodie apparently has a rabbit on it, right?”

“Grow up, and that hoodie is fine. You walk around pretending to be taller than 4’11”

“I just like these shoes, and I’m five feet even when they’re off!” She proclaimed, “What is the matter then? Does he not find you physically- actually, don’t answer that.” Weiss didn’t need to know any physical reactions from Jaune. “Just tell me what typically happens as safely as possible.”

Blake took a deep sigh before speaking. “It’s usually the same song and dance. We go on dates, have a good time, find a place to get cozy, I start making moves, he starts building a little momentum, but then he stops.” Even with the bow on, Blake’s ears were clearly drooping. “He just apologies and says he can’t!”

Weiss raised a brow, “That’s it?”

“Yeah.” Blake nodded, “that’s the long and short of it.”

The problem sounded simple, and normal. Like… too normal. Weiss knew besides herself, Blake was the smartest on their team. Although not sociable, Blake could read a room better than Yang or Ruby. “Blake…” Weiss said, befuddled, “How is Jaune on these dates? Attitude wise, like is he nervous?”

“No, not really. We just talk and have fun. In the beginning we were both a little awkward but now we talk and act like we’ve known each other for a long time.”

Now Weiss was a little jealous at Jaune this time! Five months was all it took to get Blake chatting like an old friend!? The amount of groundwork Weiss and the terror sisters had to put in for Blake to even go out into town casually with them was at least two months' work! Now she’s over here trying to sleep with the guy, a thing nobody saw coming.

“I gotta say, this whole thing feels a little wild. To think five months of secrecy lead to this conversation? If he’s as calm you say then I can’t think of many reasons to panic. I mean I get someone having a little anxiety when giving up your first time, but I hear that’s mainly on the girl’s part. You’re all calm though.” Weiss said. She wasn’t expecting Blake’s eyes to shift away slightly, as if the girl was hiding something. “You are calm, right?”

“Huh? Yeah I’m totally calm” Blake clucked her tongue, “because...it’s not my first time.” Her body swayed back and forth out, trying to finish her sentence. “I’ve been in a couple relationships before this. Some good, some abysmal.”

Yet another surprise to add to the list. “Wait, you’re not a virgin?” Weiss couldn’t believe this. Who knew Blake surpassed her in many social and mature experiences. The way she usually was, Weiss couldn’t imagine Blake being that way. The girl once spent an entire weekend reading in the dorm room. This new information though made Weiss come to realize that she previously assumed. She just had to ask one more question. “Does Jaune know that?”

“Of course.” Blake said, feeling a little insulted. “I wouldn’t lie to him or not be open enough to talk about my past.

Weiss sighed in disbelief at her faunus friend. Perhaps her assessment of Blake reading a room well was a little off. As much as Jaune had been annoying to Weiss, she felt bad for his clearly anxious soul. “Blake, I expect this kind of cluelessness from our leader.”

Blake looked rough left and to the right as if anyone else was there to explain. “Uhhh what?” She said, actually a little stumped.

Weiss put her hands together like she was dealing with an interviewer with zero experience. “Let’s put it this way. You have asked me why your boyfriend, who is most definitely a virgin, shys away from sleeping with you? A beautiful girl who’s already had experience. Ya don’t think he’s you know, incredibly nervous of not meeting pre-established expectations? You know you’re boyfriend, Jaune Arc, the same Jaune Arc that worries about everything else in his life going well?”

Blake just...sat quietly for a moment. Her brain wasn’t even having a gears turning moment. She was upset with herself that those gears weren’t spinning from the beginning. There was nothing to figure out at all! She had simply glanced over that possibility! Her hands held her head as she let out a long groan. “Uuuuugggg What is wrong with me? Of course he fucking is. I’ve been so caught up thinking I was doing something physically wrong, or I was wrong.”

A part of that sounded like baggage. Baggage Weiss wasn’t about to unpack. “Well, question solved. Unfortunately, he’s right to worry. I can’t imagine anybody giving a good first performance. Has he even seen you fully naked?”

“We’ve sent pictures, and did a bit of touching. That second one though was always in...un-private areas, so clothes stayed on.

“Did you just tell me you two are doing things in public?” Weiss criticized. At this point, the girl known as Blake Belladonna might as well be a stranger. Weiss didn’t know this person! Her Blake was not this forward. When did they have time for any of this!? Was she not actually reading in the dorm room!!? “Also, I may not have ever slept with a woman, but I’m sure seeing their assets over a screen is less stressful than in my face.

Blake uncovered her face. “Explain Yang walking out the shower naked then?”

“That’s not stress you see, that’s envy. Next time she does it I’m turning the droplets on her into ice, and stop changing the subject!”

Blake threw her arms up, “Having a secret relationship means not having access to our dorms. That actually brings us to the favor I mentioned…”

“No, I will not give you money for a hotel.” Weiss deadpanned.

Blake’s jaw fell open. “Why not!? It doesn’t have to be a suite.”

Weiss rubbed the bridge of her knows as she thinks about her bank account. “No one carries enough cash to pay for a hotel room. Theoretically I could swipe my credit card, but then the bill is now in my purchase history. I do not need to explain in any capacity why I’m staying in a hotel. A person is bound to assume what I’m doing is exactly what you want to do. Nah uh, can’t do it.” Blake put her head down. Weiss couldn’t help but feel a little bad for her. She’s clearly been putting in the effort to sleep with Jaune, for some reason. Well he was...no no, that’s a rabbit hole that could stay closed. “How long do you need with him?” Weiss asked, committed to solving this problem for the sake of already being included.

Blake’s head popped up quickly . “Two, no, three hours. Give or take an extra half hour.”

Weiss blushes, “wh..why so long?”

“Just in case…” Blake mumbled, “Anything could happen.”

“For three hours? What are you, an animal in heat?” It didn’t even take a second for Weiss to realize how fucked up that question was. She placed her hand over Blake’s mouth as her friend's eyes were getting hostile. “Sorry! That was unrelated to anything, honest!”

Blake was kind enough to believe Weiss at her word, but still petty enough to lick the girl’s hand, making her shriek.

“Eeeiiik!!! Blake!”

“Three hours please.”

Weiss sighed, “Fine. Getting Ruby and Yang to stay out of there that long is doable. They always wanna drag me around to do things that will give me ‘culture’ as they put it. How are you gonna handle Jaune?”

“I….good question.”

Yep, definitely doesn’t read the room well. “Blake, just be easy with him. Reassuring words, all that stuff. It’s his first after all.”

Blake was surprised by the advice. “Wow, that’s really sweet of you to care about him like that.”

Weiss crosses her arms and turns away. “I’m doing this for you, not him. And for me. Jaune moping is way worse than when he’s confident. Hmph!”

xxxxx

“Come on Jaune! What’s taking so long?” Blake thought, fidgeting on her bed. A click of the door lock made her jump to her feet as it opened slowly. Jaune’s head peaked into the room, confused.

“Umm hello?”He looked to the right and saw Blake. “Oh, hey. I got your text and Weiss told me to swing by the moment I could. Everything okay?” Jaune walked in completely and shut the door. Something about this felt uncharacteristically serious. Even for Blake.

She took Jaune’s hand and guided him towards her bed to sit. “Okay, how to start this?” She sighed.

“I hope it starts with you telling me this isn’t a break up?” He said, worrying that he was in trouble. “That would be nice.”

Blake rubbed his back and smiled. “Relax, this isn’t that kind of talk. It’s actually...kinda the opposite.”

“The opposite? Like...marriage?” Jaune’s eyes widened. He wasn’t expecting that kind of conversation. “Don’t you think we’re too young for all that?”

Blake’s face turned red. The fact that’s where his mind went was actually pretty sweet. “Sex Jaune. I see how you got there, but I was referring to sex.” Blake mumbled. “Can we talk about it? We keep building up to it, but then you stop.”

His face got red. “I...it’s just…ummm” he couldn’t find the words. If Yang was here then he was sure a cat having his tongue pun would’ve been said. Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed about wimping out. Speaking only got worse when Blake took it upon herself to straddle his lap. Gods, she was too beautiful. Her eyes left him defenseless. The way her hands slowly ran up his chest and over his shoulders as the smell of lavender wafted over him. “Bl-Blake?”

“I like you.” She suddenly confessed, “I like you for who you are. The things you can do, can’t do, and never have done; I’m okay with all of it. If you’re thinking I’m ranking you to any previous experience, you’re wrong. The only experience I think about with you, is us. Our experiences.” Her right hand pulls his collar away from his neck. The urge to bite her lip is overwhelming as an urge in her core starts to burn. “Let me experience you.” She whispers. Blake leans in and begins kissing his neck. Honestly, she wanted to take things slower for his sake, but all but yearned for Jaune to touch her. So much so that it was a bit dizzying.

Jaune’s body flinched as Blake’s lips grazed his neck, nipping and licking it. “Blake…” Jaune moaned. His mind was still playing catch up, but his body was right on pace. His hands traveled up the feline’s toned legs and squeezed the round ass that rested on his lap, earning him a moan. Blake moved from his neck and captured his lips. Her hands went to his jawline to keep his face close. As if he thought about escaping.

Blake openly moaned as she felt his fingers kneed her ass like dough. She caught him by surprise when she slipped her tongue into his mouth, luring his into her own. Slowly, Blake locked her body back and forth to stir him up. The low groan he let out was a good sign she had done her job. Still, they have gotten this far before. Blake was determined to get further.

Her lips finally freed Jaune. The boy was flushed completely, catching his breath in rhythm with hers. Blake took the opportunity to remove only her blazer, then brought Jaune’s left hand away from her ass and onto her breast. Her fingers overlapped his and pressed down, making him squeeze it gently. “Touch me…” the lust in her voice flowed like a river. The way she felt Jaune’s hand quiver told her that he was still pretty anxious.

Jaune found it within himself to bring both of his hands to the top button of her shirt. A small smile on Blake’s face appeared as she closed her eyes and puffed her chest out a bit more as a sign to go ahead. “Take your time.” She said. Being patient wasn’t Blake’s strongest quality, but with Weiss’s advice in mind, she did her best to contain herself. It was funny. Jaune being nervous was actually making her heart beat faster.

Cool air hit her chest as her shirt was undone, revealing a purple lace bra. Firm hands went around her back. “I can handle the bra if you’re having tr-” a little pop noise was made as her bra strap was undone faster than her shirt. “Trouble…” she finished.

Jaune let out a sheepish chuckle. “Hehe, seven sisters, remember. I’m no stranger to how bras work. They left them everywhere.

“Jaune, you’re like a bag of tricks.” Blake smiled, “I just never know what comes next with you. That being said, I have a good idea that I'll be leading from here.” Blake let her bra fall, making Jaune gasp under his breath. Blake found his reaction to her D sized chest. His face got redder by the second as Blake brought his hands to them.

Jaune refused to speak. He’d hate to ruin the mood right now. He couldn’t believe how soft Blake felt. The way his fingers pressed against her as he massaged each boob. His pointer fingers grazed over her pale, pink nipples made the girl settle more into his lap.

“Mmmm~” Blake moaned, biting her lip from the touch. Jaune took it as a sign to keep going. A wise choice. Blake once again started to buck her hips against what had to be Jaune’s rock hard erection. Even with clothes on, it’s heat reached Blake’s equally hot core. Blake’s hands got busy. She scooted back a bit for them to have enough room to unbuckle Jaune’s pants. Her fingers traced along his lower stomach before dipping below the waistband and wrapping the throbbing erection. Blake leaned forward to capture his tongue yet again as he groaned from the feeling of her nimble fingers stroking his down.

Blake managed to pull his length up and out of his pants completely. She scooted forward again and rubbed his exposed cock against her wet panties. Her clit ground against the shaft. Blake mewled lustfully from Jaune squeezing her breast harder than before. Blake felt her tongue get drawn in and sucked on lightly. Someone was getting excited. The hot precum that ran down her hands only made it easier for Blake to pump faster.

Jaune couldn’t contain his groans and grunts. His hands gripped Blake’s ass again to hold her close. His kiss with her was broken by her going to kiss and bite his neck. “Blake…”

“Sshhh” Blake whispered, “cum for me.” If it wasn’t for her underwear, Jaune’s cock would be sliding up and down her soaked folds right now. The tip pressed against her clit and sent a shiver through Blake’s body that made her grind harder against it. She could tell Jaune was at the end of his rope. His hands gripped her even tighter as Jaune’s throbbing length finally let out a thick white seed that painted Blake’s moist thighs and panties. Blake smiled seductively as she slowed down the roll of her hips, letting him ride out his pleasure and wring out whatever remained inside.

“Blake!” Jaune hissed from the pleasure. Her hands pressed against his rising chest, making him lean back until his forearms had to support his body. Blake dismounted him to stand up for a moment then raised the sides of her soiled skirt, giving Jaune a clear view of the mess he made on the girl.

“Someone’s healthy.” Blake teased, “I wasn’t expecting so much.” Blake’s face became a deep red. Imagining the thought of this load inside her made her weak in all the right ways.

The sight of his and Blake’s arousal slowly trailing down her well toned legs was enough to leave anyone speechless. It didn’t help that her black panties were damp enough to outline the entrance to what Jaune would know to be a very intense experience. And as bad as he wanted it, Jaune couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by his performance. “Not to kill the mood or sound ungrateful, but cumming alone is a bit… ehhh” was the best way he could describe himself.

Blake playfully rolled her eyes. Boys will be boys. “Well it’s not like we’re finished yet. Besides I literally told you cum. Rest assured I’ll get my moment a bliss before the end of this. Just have a bit of confidence. We’re still foreplaying.”

“I’m not an expert on this but is foreplay always this intense? I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard.” He admitted.

“It varies. Honestly...” Blake looked down at Jaune’s semi-flaccid dick. She slowly walked closer to the bed. Her hand tugged on Jaune’s slacks, prompting him to scoot down a bit more until Blake felt he was close enough. The young woman pulled a bit harder to pull his pants down and of the way of getting ruined. All why never taking her eyes off of him or is cum covered length. “....I like watching how good I make you feel.” She purred, getting excited again.

Jaune has no response to such a confession. Nor could he say anything as she bent over to grab his dick. Just her touching it was enough to make him grow. To get points even further across, Blake’s golden eyes looked right into his eyes as she made him tremble from placing her tongue at the base and lick up; agonizingly slow and deliberate too.

Blake took her time swirling around Jaune to collect the remnants of his load before taking him into her mouth for real. Jaune’s body tensed immediately and hand instinctively went to her head to brace himself as she bobbed up and down. His fingers wrapped around strains of hair, tugging them. Blake purred again with him down her throat and began watching him squirm.

“Blake!” He gasped. The girl only sped. Each time she went lower and lower while her tongue stroked the underside of his shaft. Before Jaune knew it, he was fully erect again and felt like he could cum again if she continued. “Blake! T-Timeout!” He yelled.

Blake gladly stopped. She had proved her point, gotten him hard again, and was pleasantly surprised to learn Jaune wasn’t that bitter in the slightest. Maybe it was his natural scent or something but Blake could see herself getting a bit too into sucking him off. That taste lingered on her and made her body burn up. “Need a break?”

“Not really.” He fibbed, knowing full well a girl who just went down him could probably tell just how into that experience he was. “I just… If I’m coming twice, I’d rather you get some action too.”

“Oh, okay.” Blake’s heart fluttered a bit. He really wanted her to feel good with him. “Then, let’s skip to the fun part.” Blake removed her panties that really should’ve removed earlier, along with the skirt.

Jaune marveled at his beautiful girlfriend who stood before him. Yeah they had sent pictures and sure she’s been topless for several minutes now, but it felt different once everything came off. Her long, beautiful legs went on each side of him, letting him have a full view of a wanting velvet core that hovered above his cock. A thin line of Blake’s arousal made both of teens blush as it dripped onto him. Jaune took his right thumb and pressed against her entrance, rubbing it slowly and watching how it coated his thumb.

“Mmmm~” Blake let out a breath that shook with excitement. Her chest began to rise and fall more distinctly and her back arched ever so slightly as she closed her eyes. “Please don’t fucking team me too long.” She moaned, nudging her hips to gain more friction.

Jaune was mesmerized by the way she acted. He sunk his thumb into her just to watch her crane her neck up and moan again. If he wasn’t excited before, he was now. “You’re so fucking wet…” pushing further in to feel her walls tighten. He kept a slow rhythm when pulling out, just to push right back in.

Blake bit her lip. Her hands ran up his shirt to expose his chest. She had to remember to thank

Pyrrha for putting Jaune through such rigorous training. He was well on his way to being the huntsman he so dearly dreamed of. It was funny but the more Blake thought it about, the more she realized what made her so drawn to him. Even when Jaune lacked experience, he set his sights high. Sure they could be a little too high at times, but you know what? There was something great about that. “I thought I told you not to tease me? I want you to give it to me.” Blake purred. She mustered the resolve to pry Jaune’s hand from her body and took hold of something much bigger and lively. “Ready for a ride? Just relax and let me lead okay?”

Jaune nodded. He watched Blake lower herself without a second thought. His hips instinctively bucked up as he felt the indescribable pleasure of wet, heated walls pulled him in tightly, refusing to let go. Jaune closed his eyes and gripped her waist.

“Feeling good?” Blake shuddered. The feeling of Jaune rubbing her insides so deep made her want to move immediately. Blake put her hands against Jaune’s chest and began rocking her hips. The grip Jaune had on her tightened. A low groan strained from his throat. Blake leaned forward until her breast pressed against him. “It gets better.” Her knees started feeling weak as raised her hips, having Jaune’s dick slid out until the tip remained. Blake then dropped her hips down, slamming his cock back inside of her. Again and again she did that, picking up the speed each time until the sound of her ass smacking against his lap filled the room and rocked the bed. Blake’s body was on autopilot. The feeling of her womb being invaded and walls being grazed, shocked Blake each time Jaune’s dick spearheaded inside of her wanting pussy. “Oh fuck yes…” Blake gasped, licking and biting Jaune’s neck.

The boy was going through it right now. Never had Jaune felt this kind of heat. No amount of foreplay could prepare anybody for this. Each slight movement felt like a jolt of lightning. His mind and body were conflicted. On one hand, Jaune wanted to hold out as long as possible. Yet his hips had other plans. Jaune couldn’t stop himself from timing his movements with Blake’s, thrusting deep into her for even greater pleasure

Blake had no problem with this whatsoever. “Ahhh~ just like that!” Blake encouraged, “You’re so deep...mmmm” the heat between them only grew. Their bodies worked up a sweat and Blake found herself panting more than moaning. Letting Jaune cum once was a good idea. Not only for him to last longer for this moment, but even Blake wasn’t confident her experience would give her an edge against his stamina. High sex drive or not, Blake knew herself well. Satisfying her needs wasn’t as trying as Jaune might think. Especially when she’s topping.

Blake sat up and leaned back a bit. She braced her hands behind her back and began rocking back and forth with Jaune completely inside of her.

Jaune couldn’t take his eyes off of Blake’s body as it grinded on him. The woman’s eyes were shut tight as she focused on the pleasure, while her boobs bounced from each rock. “You’re so beautiful.” He said without thinking. The compliment was heard though, since Blake immediately started going even faster. Jaune let out another groan. He wanted her so bad. Sitting still just wasn’t his style.

Blake’s concentration was broken when she felt strong arms around her lower back. She opened her eyes to see the blonde knight sit up as well. “Jaune?” She said confused. Instead of answering her. Jaune gave her a chaste but strong kiss before his mouth went suck on one of her tits. “Jaune!” She moaned, gripped his hair. Blake arched her back as she felt him lick and suck it, while groping the other one. The assault on her body only intensified when his remaining free hand fell to her ass to squeeze it while she continued to fuck herself on his dick until her mind felt foggy. “This is...too much!” Her hand clung to him. “And you were worried!?” She asked knowing he couldn’t speak right now.

Jaune might’ve been happy by the question if he wasn’t too busy fighting off his fast approaching orgasm. It was crazy Blake was the one saying he was doing too much. Her scent, the way her body pressed against his, the sounds that escaped her beautiful lips, and the way she moved her hips. As if she was trying to milk everything out of him all at once. Every part of her wax too much yet Jaune could only want more, surrendering to the embrace of her soaked walls. Jaune gasped for air. “Blake, I….I can’t...”

Words were beyond him. All he could do was buck in between Blake’s legs.

A seductive smile grew on her face as she went faster. “That’s right, fuck me just like this….and cum. Blake leaned into his, “Hard…”

A slave to her voice, Jaune obeyed Blake’s words without fail. He could only manage several more intoxicating moments before the urge to cum was too strong to deny. Jaune held her close and kept her there; shooting ropes white inside her.

Blake felt Jaune bite down on her shoulder as he filled her deep. All the rough touches and spasms was more than enough to push her over the edge. “Shit…” she said with a shrill voice. Her arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body and Blake buried her face in the crook of neck. Blake tried resisting but her nails dug into his back as her orgasm finally hit. Every muscle in her body tensed up. Her toes curled and she could feel Jaune throbbing inside her as her body tried taking everything the boy had to give.

Neither could speak. They could only cling to each other for what felt like forever before the waves of pleasures finally subsided. Blake was the first to loosen her grip. The girl's limbs released tension and she had zero desire to move an inch. It was only when Jaune went to tilt her head up by her chin that the two looked at each other with a mix of gratification and exhaustion. Blake positioned his hand for her head to rest in, purring at the feel of his touch.

Jaune let out at chuckle. He fell backwards onto the bed with Blake following him down. The girl laid on top of him and continued purring.

“Yeah I don’t see what you were worried about.” She said, teasingly.

“Hey, when Blake Belladonna says she wants to have her way with you, panic sets in. So, good time?”

Blake flicked his forward. “You have me laying on top of you naked and purring.”

“Yeah, fair point. Phew, well that’s good. I like making you happy.”

Blake blushed as she felt his arms hold her gently. “Hmm well looks like you’ve given me a new experience after all.”

“What, cuddling after sex?”

“Mmmhmmm.” Blake hummed, “No time to cuddle when you’re you know, working in a cult. Luxuries like that don’t exist.”

Jaune smirked, “Gee, I never would’ve guessed.” Blake pinched him for that sarcastic remark. Not that it actually did anything. “Well I’m happy to be your first post sex cuddle experience. Though it’s a little risky isn’t it?”

“We have like three hours before anyone shows up. It’s fine.”

“Not exactly the issue I had in mind but good to know.”

Blake’s eyelids felt heavy. That was until the feeling of Jaune’s hands on her butt shocked her away. The feeling of him swelling inside her again made her shudder. Stamina was dangerous. “Please, fifteen minutes. We have like three hours.” She groaned. “Then I’ll have you screaming all over again.”

“Fine by me, but this time I’m getting you off at least twice. Two to one just isn’t fair. I want you just as pleased as me.”

Looking back on things, Blake mentally retracted her statement about boys and their pride. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. “I’ll hold you to that.” Blake closed her eyes and got some rest.

xxxx

“We’re back!” Yang shouted as she walked in with her two teammates. She looked over to see Blake chillin on her bed reading in her sleeping clothes. “Gee if it wasn't for your clothes then I would’ve believed you actually sat there and read the entire time. I’m surprised you haven’t finished all of your books.”

“I’m a slow reader.” Blake blatantly lied. “I did finish a couple of times, books I mean.” Her eyes looked up from the pages to see Weiss staring at her in voiceless disbelief. She wiggled her eyebrows, making Weiss turn red.

The heiress turned around and walked out the room.

“Weiss, where are you going?” Ruby asked.

The Schnee sighed and kept walking. “A place that makes sense.”

Ruby didn’t know what that meant she looked at Yang who shrugged, then to Blake who masterfully controlled her laughter. “Huh, I guess Blake reading slowly through her for a loop?”

It was impossible for Blake not to place her book over her face and smile behind it. “Never change Ruby.” She muttered, “Never change.”

#rwby #blake belladonna #jaune arc #rwby knightshade #weiss schnee #ruby rose #yang xiao long

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b0ba-chan · 4 years

Text

Good Puppy

summary: won’t you be a good puppy for daddy?

pairing: Bokuto Koutaro x fem!Reader

word count: 1700

warnings: dom/sub dynamic, daddy kink, puppy kink (not in a furry way tho), spanking, car sex (if you squint), pure filth, no editing

a/n: my fingies went WILD omg she just kept going. so close to 2000 words but that would’ve been a little too much. Also, again i do not know how to write endings

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Bokuto Koutaro seems like a giant golden retriever to the public, with his bright eyes and even brighter personality. Everyone loved him no matter the age or gender, his warm and loving energy could draw anyone in. That’s how he was able to draw you into him. Being with him feels like whirlwind, constant moving and acceleration in both life and relationship. There is never a dry or boring time with Bokuto, he always made everything so fun.

People may think that he would prefer to be more submissive in bed the way he loves to please people or he would be more light hearted with everything. You thought the same way too, that there will always be that light hearted vibe to always linger around. What you weren’t prepared for was the fact that he has an extremely dominating presence and quite serious. Not only was his vibe felt so big, but he’s just built so well with his thick muscles and towering height, it just makes you feel even smaller than you already are.

Today has been a rough day for you, a busy day at work and an angry boss that you had to deal with which almost cost you your job. You felt so tired and overworked that you could barely walk back home, but luckily for you, your loving boyfriend is on his way back from training to pick you up. Parked out at the front, he leans on the car waiting for you to come out. Right when he was about to text you he was there to pick you up, your small body plopped against his broad chest. You inhale his scent that made you feel like home and melt into him as he wrapped his arms around you?

“Alright, pup?” Koutaro coos at you and runs a hand through your hair, kissing the top of your head. Letting out a small whine and press as close as you can to him.

“Go home, daddy?” You couldn’t help whispering out the little nickname that could change his attitude in a snap. His eyes grew dark and lust filled, but he kept his composure for you, because he knew you needed him the most right now.

“Yeah, let's get you home. Daddy will take care of you,” Kou smiles and opens the passenger door for you. His gym shorts are already straining slightly, knowing he can have his fun with you tonight. On days like these, he knows you want him to take all the reins and wreck her to forget today’s troubles.

The drive home was quiet, making you feel more ansty for more touch than his hand on your thigh. You needed more and his hand did not have enough access to your pussy, but you do have easy access to his crotch. All you had to do to get to him was reach over and tug the shorts down, so you do as you think, letting your hand reach over. He glances back and forth from the road to you, sending you over a warning glare.

“Puppy, keep to yourself. It’s dangerous, wait till we get home,” Bokuto grunts as your hand reaches to pull down his shorts and boxers, just enough for his semi-hard on to come out. He hisses at the cold air, but he doesn’t stop you. His rule is that you have to listen to him the first time around, never wanting to repeat himself. So if you don’t want to listen, he’ll let you have your fun but punishment does wait for you at home.

You hum at the weight in your hand and tease the tip with your thumb, lightly giggling when his breath hitches. There was a punishment to this and you knew full well that you’re bound to get a punishment, but anything for you to have your hands on him. You have your fun, jerking him off slowly and taking in the feeling of him getting hard in your hand. The car parks, but that doesn’t stop you from playing with his cock until he pulls his shorts up, causing you to let out a whine.

Kou doesn’t say anything but gets out of the car and goes to your side to open the door for you to get out. Before you can walk away, he grabs you by the jaw and leans in to your ear. He blows gently, causing you to emit a whine and shiver. “Get inside and get naked. Face down, ass up. Understand, pup?”

After you nod, he lets a low chuckle and lets go of your jaw to pat your cheek. A flush runs through your whole body as you go into the house and to the bedroom, getting in position the way he asked you to. It feels like forever until he comes back, strolling in with only his briefs on and hair ruffled down from it’s normal brushed up style. Trying to tempt him close, you shake your ass for him, but he acts unphased which causes you to pout. Maybe deepening your arch for him? No, he seems like he doesn’t care.

You close your eyes to let out a frustrated whine, but before you can continue any longer, a sharp slap hits your ass. It’s so hard and aggressive that it causes you to lurch forward and gasp. The stinging was burning, but before it settled down, another spank landed on the same spot. Tears are already threatening to spill out as the blows to your ass keep going. You loved spanking, but this wasn’t enough contact with him to satisfy you. Bokuto knew this as well, that all you wanted to touch him. After fifteen spanks, he easily flips you onto your back to take in your already fucked out expression. He smirks, enjoying his work, but right as you reach out to him, he immediately pins you down to the bed by the wrist.

“No touching, pup. You’re still taking your punishment,” His eyes stare directly into yours, showing that he’s completely serious. You let out a little whine, but comply anyways. Punishments were rough but you never want them to worsen. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, puppy. Daddy will take good care of you.”

Shivering at his words, you nod compliantly because you know daddy always takes care of you. He lets go of your wrist and lets it trail down your face to your chest, grazing his fingers lightly over your perky nipples. The light huffs and whines arouse him even more and brings his hand down to your sobbing cunt. The pad of his thumb presses on your clit causing you to let out a groan. Your hips roll down on his thumb, trying to grab more pleasure. Why was he being so mean? Wasn’t it enough that you can’t touch him?

“Maybe daddy shouldn’t prep you. Think you can take all of my cock with no prep baby? Be a good girl and take it, yeah,” He smirks at the pleased reaction from you. It’s not like you haven’t taken him with no prep before, but it was rare and you’re willing to take the challenge now. You let out small pleas for him, not really specifying what you want, but Bokuto knows you well enough to know what you want.

One of his hands reaches up to grab the headboard and the other holds the base of cock. He angles himself to your hole and pushes his blunt tip into you. The intrusion causes you to let out a squeal and try to hold onto the sheets to stable yourself. Koutaro doesn’t waste his time to continue pushing into you; you just looked so small and fragile under him, he just had to ruin you. Even when you plea for him to slow down, he doesn’t listen and continues until he’s balls deep.

You keep squirming around and crying over the intense pain and pleasure of the stretch of his thick cock. He pinches your side to get you to calm down. “C’mon, puppy. Relax for me.” He chuckles at you trying to gather yourself. His hand comes to your tummy and presses down, moaning at the pressure he set on himself. Sobs wrack through your whole body, feeling him so deep in you.

“Doesn’t it feel so good around daddy’s cock? C’mon, calm down,” Kou lets out a grunt as he adds a little more pressure. As you start to calm down, he shocks you by starting to pound into your cunt. Both of his hands are on the headboard, limiting his skin contact with you, still keeping to his punishment. But you don’t even care anymore, you’re fucked dumb and can’t even form coherent sentences. Words spill out of your mouth about how good Bokuto feels inside you, babbling about needing more.

“Puppy just can’t shut up, huh?” The man towering over you grunts, taking one of his hands to prod his fingers in your mouth, keeping his brutal pace at your sloppy hole. He holds your tongue between his thumb and index finger and increases his pace. Distorted moans spill out of your mouth as your legs start to shake, signaling your oncoming orgasm. He slows down his thrusts but gets deeper every time.

Once his tip presses against your cervix, screams break through your mouth as you fall over the edge, crying over the intense feeling. Your eyes roll back as your sight goes white. Bo moves both hands back to your hips to your hips to pull you as close he can to spill his hot seed into you.

The only words coming out of your mouth are daddy and different variations of his name. As you both slowly come down, Bokuto stays in your hole and pulls you to his chest. He soothes your crying and praises you for being such a good girl for him.

“That’s my good puppy, there we go. Did so good for me, princess,” He coos into your ear, letting you touch him however you wanted. “Been so good for me, baby. C’mon let's get you cleaned up, drink some water too, yeah?”

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

a/n: thanks for reading (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

#FINALLLYYY ALL DONE #boba!post #bokuto #bokuto koutaro #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto kotarou x reader #haikyuu #haikyu #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hq x reader

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mystic-deep · 3 years

Text

“Whipped Cream” - Part 3 | Nanami Kento fem!reader

♡ ♡ ♡ description: Taking cooking classes seemed like a nice way to relax and sharpen your skills, too bad the teacher hates you.

♡ ♡ ♡ warnings: nsfw, explicit content not suitable for minors, oral-giving and receiving, fingering

♡ ♡ ♡ notes: Part 3 took forever because of a busy week, I really apologize for that! Part 4 will come out sooner, hopefully tomorrow if everything goes well haha. As always, please excuse any mistakes!

♡ ♡ ♡ previous parts: Part 1, Part 2

♡ ♡ ♡ word count: 2.6k

Saturday at 5 PM, you stared at the message so many times it felt like it was imprinted in your retina. Just the day and the hour, because he must have thought that no other details were necessary.

You couldn’t concentrate the whole day and because of that you ended up messing your end of the week report. That translated in staying overtime and missing your Friday cooking class. When you sent Nanami a message telling him you probably couldn’t make it, he bluntly replied that you need to contact their secretary because she is the one who handles the schedule. Funny, he had no problem contacting you when it came to setting up a meeting for that lesson.

You were so tired when you reached your apartment that you didn’t even bother with dinner, you just took a shower and rolled into bed. Despite your hard day, you simply couldn’t fall asleep. What in God’s given name made you think you could pull this off? Starting an affair with your teacher, like some high school fantasy, except you weren’t a teen anymore and you knew the consequences. On the other hand, you were both adults and it’s not like a relationship between the two of you would be so scandalous. Except, this wasn’t a relationship, and you needed to remind yourself that.

Sleep finally took hold of you and you woke up on Saturday morning feeling like you had wrestled a bear. So much for a good night sleep to help with your complexion. You had cancelled all previous plans you had for the day, despite the whining of your best friend whom you were supposed to meet in the afternoon, and focused on getting ready for your lesson. You weren’t this nervous even on the day of your prom.

Bath, scrub, face mask, the whole deal and you hoped his dick was worth all this effort. When it came to clothes, obviously you chose a skirt this time around, because weren’t you such a nice girl, and a light coloured buttoned shirt. You wanted something simple, classy, that fitted your body well enough but wouldn’t scream ‘I want you to fuck me on your desk’, although that was the plan.

When it was nearly a quarter past 4, you grabbed your bag, coat and car keys and headed out the door. The car ride took longer than usual, due to the whole Saturday traffic, and you were starting to get impatient.

If you had any confidence that you could actually pull this off, it all disappeared the second you set foot in the elevator that would lead you to the lobby. Seeing your reflection in the metal doors made everything feel very real and you actually thought of turning back. Yet as the doors opened, you stepped out and took a deep breath. At the end of the day you were also here to learn what you had missed on the previous classes, thus you could just do that and refuse the extra lesson.

With that thought in mind, and new found confidence, you moved towards the reception desk, surprised that you didn’t find anyone there. Actually, the whole place looked empty, such a contrast from the busy week days.

You walked to your classrooms and when you reached the door you gave it a light knock.

“Come in.”

Nanami’s voice startled you, as though you were surprised that he was actually there. You opened the door slowly and peeked inside, finding him reading the newspaper with his glasses on. The image kind of shocked you, it seemed so domestic that your mind couldn’t help but wonder how he would look sitting like this at your kitchen table, early in the morning, with his blond hair slightly messy, a large cup of steaming coffee in front of him. You shook your head, pushing such silly thoughts aside. Daydreaming of something that will never happen wouldn’t do you any good.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Don’t be silly.” He took off his reading glasses and folded the newspaper neatly. “You are surprisingly on time for once.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment before stepping inside and closing the door.

“Place feels kind of empty.”

“That’s because I don’t have my employees work on weekends.” His what now? Seeing your surprised expression he continued. “I own this school.” Well that explained the expensive car.

“Now then, let’s not waste anymore time, we have two recipes we need to make.” With that said, you put your apron on and work began.

For almost an hour and a half you worked on your Paris Brest and then on the perfect poached eggs. It made quite a difference to have such a skilled cook by your side giving you instruction left and right. His attitude was different from your previous classes but maybe this was also because this time you were keen to listen and learn.

It was quite a nice atmosphere and you felt yourself relax while doing what you enjoyed most. Time seemed to pass by in an instant and now your dessert was in the fridge while the two eggs that you had made were eaten with toasted English muffins that Nanami had baked himself earlier that day.

After everything was done, you two began to clean the dishes. He explained that the cleaning lady that usually took care of them at the end of every class will only be back on Monday morning and he didn’t want to leave them in the sink.

“Seems everything is in order now.” He placed the very last bowl in the cabinet before turning to look at you. “I think it’s time we start our extra lesson.”

You stood there, almost petrified, as his hands reached for your apron and slowly took it off. A mix of emotions washed over you as he took you gently by the wrist and you followed him into the nearby office.

With a click, the door was locked and his lips were now hungrily devouring yours. You leaned back on the closed door as your arms wrapped around his shoulders for support. Your worries seemed to disappear as his hands began to trace every single curve of your body. When he pulled away from the kiss you were both out of breath, a glimpse of hunger reflecting in your eyes.

“Are you sure about this?” He looked at you with just a hint of concern and you nodded shortly. You wanted this, no doubt about it, but would you be able to handle the consequences?

“Why me?” Your words took him by surprise and he pulled away just slightly.

“Why not you?”

“I’m not joking, I need to know-”

“If you can trust me?” He let out a small chuckle and his hand gently caressed your cheek. “You remind me of someone. I felt it the second I saw you in my class and if life taught me anything is that I shouldn’t ignore my instinct.” With that he pulled away and reached for the door knob.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, I’ve told you that last time. You can just walk out the door and-” He didn’t get to finish his sentence, your hands grabbing the collar of his white shirt, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

Every single part of you wanted him. You wanted to know how he felt like, how he tasted like, you wanted him to know what you tasted like. You didn’t bother asking him whom you reminded him of, it didn’t matter. This wasn’t going to be a relationship, no point in complicating things.

“Well, you sure answered my question.” He looked amused when you finally pulled away, yet that amusement was quickly replaced by a serious expression.

“Tell me you want this.”

“I want this.”

“Did you already forget the rules?”

“I really want this...sir.”

With a quick movement he pulled you to the couch. He positioned your body so that your hands were gripping the back pillows while your knees were resting on the cushion. His hands came from behind to cup your breasts and he began to massage them gently through the fabric.

“I see you chose to wear a skirt today. Isn’t it a bit chilly outside?” He seemed amused as his right hand rested between your thighs while the left continued to knead your chest. His hands were quite skilful, just a few touches and you could already feel your panties sticking to your wet core.

“I’m giving you extra points for wearing something that would give me...easier access.” His hand ventured furthered up your thigh and brushed against the fabric of your panties, making you shudder from head to toe. God, he was moving so slow, it was almost torture.

Just as you were about to ask him to touch you more, he retrieved his hand and practically ripped your shirt opened. He harshly pulled on your bra, releasing your breasts before cupping them and twisting your nipples between his fingers. The movements were so sudden that you let out a shriek, a feeling of painful delight washing over you.

“Not so loud.” He whispered in your ear, voice low and filled with lust. You wondered if there were other people in the building. He said that the other employees didn’t work on weekends but you were sure there must have been security guards. You needed to keep your voice down no matter how much you wanted to scream his name.

His hands left your breasts, moving down to grip your waist before moving down further at the hem of your skirt. He pulled the material up to reveal your ass and you felt your face turning bright red. You turned to look at him and caught his hungry expression as his eyes were fixed on your clothed crotch.

“Pulled them down.” You blinked, your mind not being able to register his words. “Pull your panties down.” You sucked in a breath and with shaking hands you let go of the couch frame before moving to pull your panties down to your knees.

The cold air from the room made you shiver, or was it perhaps the way he was now inspecting you with his eyes. You never felt more exposed, sitting with your legs spread, pussy twitching hoping for any kind of attention from his part. As though he could read your mind, he parted your legs even further, burying his face between them.

When you felt his hot breath on you swollen lips you thought you were going to scream in frustration. He didn’t make you wait long, his mouth eating you out like you were his favourite desert. You let your forehead rest on your arm and bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from moaning loudly. His tongue began to vigorously lap on your juices as one of his fingers pushed inside of you. He began to pump his finger in a slow rhythm, stretching you as much as possible before adding another digit.

“So close...please. Please, sensei.” You didn’t even know what you were saying, words and gasps were just escaping your lips uncontrollably. Feeling your walls clenching around his fingers, Nanami let his tongue push against your clit, causing you to whimper.

The hand that wasn’t working on your hole moved up your body, caressing your breast before twisting the nipple. By this time you were moving your hips back against his hand, furiously meeting his thrusts. He suddenly pushed his digits further, deep inside of you and sucked harshly on your clit, sending you over the edge.

Every single muscle in your body tensed and you knew that if you could scream, it would shatter you. Your climax came with hushed sobs, tearing through you like lighting. He retrieved his fingers from inside your hole as your eyes opened, still bleary with tears. You looked at the wall, trying to adjust your vision, before glancing back at his devilish smile. He must have felt damn proud to make you cum like this.

“That was good, you came beautifully for me.” He brushed the sweat away from your forehead before placing a gentle kiss. You watched him as he pulled back, his hand reaching for the zipper of his pants.

He didn’t have to say anything, your heart pounding in your chest as you moved your position. You were now on your knees on the soft carpet, waiting eagerly for him to release his cock. He held himself with one hand while the other reached for the back of your head, giving you a little push.

You took that as your sign and licked your lips before moving your face closer. You opened your mouth and he guided himself deep inside of you. Your pussy was dripping and you found yourself pumping your hips in time with his movements. You felt that he was close, his thrusts becoming almost frantic.

He pumped into you a few more times before letting out a groan and erupting into your mouth. You eagerly took all that he had to offer, and despite the gagging reflex, you managed to swallow everything. He looked down at you with the same devilish smile before pulling you off of him slowly.

“You did good, for most part.”

“I think I did perfect, sir.” You tried to stand up but your knees felt weak so he offered you his hand.

“Cheeky already? Although I suppose we’re finished for today.” You agreed, feeling satisfied for now.

After getting yourself cleaned and rearranging your wrinkled clothes, you both sat down on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder while his hand rubbed your back. You could have fallen asleep just like this, although you knew it was only a matter of minutes before you had to part.

“What do you think of your first lesson?”

“Didn’t learn much, did I?” His hand reached for one of your cheeks and he gave it a light pinch.

“Well then I apologize, I promise to be stricter for our next lessons.” His words might have sounded like a joke but the intensity of his gazed made your stomach do flips.

“You should go home.” You nodded and slowly got up from the couch.

He stood as well and went to unlock and open the door. As you stood in the door frame you gazed up at him and hoped for a kiss goodbye but he made no movement. Once the door was opened your relationship went back to a normal student-teacher one.

“I’ll be seeing you on Monday. No more excuses.” His face was stern this time, as to make you understand that skipping classes was no longer accepted.

“On Monday, and for the extra lesson-”

“I’ll text you.” That was all and you knew the conversation was over. You said your short farewells before you grabbed your coat and bag and left the classroom.

You reached your apartment and threw all your clothes in the laundry basket, feeling the need to take a shower but at the same time wanting this sticky feeling between your legs to last longer. After each meeting with Nanami you ended up craving more and more of his touch. You couldn’t wait for the next private lesson, but until then you had to play nice and attend the classes during the week.

As the hot water washed over your body your mind drifted to Nanami’s face, how concentrated he looked when he was giving you instructions, how relaxed he looked while reading the paper, how pleased he looked when you finished the desert. Your eyes suddenly popped open and you let out swear. You had forgotten the desert in the fridge-all that work and you didn’t even get to taste it.

#jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader

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meichenxi · 3 years

Text

Dear ‘White guy speaks perfect X and shocks Y!’ language YouTubers: STOP

A rant about every single fucking video by Xiaomanyc and similar YouTubers all titled things like CLUELESS WHITE GUY/GIRL LEARNS [INSERT NON-WHITE LANGUAGE HERE] AND SHOCKS [INSERT PLACE].

Disclaimer: I am white British, and I am also very often a moron. I'm trying to inform myself more, and would like to learn. So let me know if there is anything I should change, anything I’ve got wrong or any terminology I can change.

So this evening I opened YouTube to get some quality Hikaru no Go content, and saw yet another video recommended to me about Xiaomanyc called Clueless white guy orders in perfect Chinese, shocks patrons and staff!!!!

Really? Really. Ok, his Chinese certainly is good - but it isn't great. And it isn’t necessarily any better than people I've seen in the higher levels of a class at university who have spent some time in China. It's solidly intermediate. That's not an insult - that level of Chinese is hard to attain, and definitely worth celebrating!! Hell, I celebrate every new word I learn. But while it may be unusual, it doesn't forgive the clickbait type videos like 'White guy speaks perfect Chinese and wows [insert place]'.

These kind of clickbait titles rest on a number of assumptions. Before I say any more, I just want to make a note about terminology. Note that ’majority’ and ‘minority’ are not necessarily helpful labels, because they imply both a) a higher number of speakers in a certain place, and b) socially prestigious in some way. Of course a language like standard Mandarin is not a minority in China, but it might be in Germany. Talking about ‘minority’ languages that have a large speaker base outside of the country, like Chinese, is also not the same as talking about languages that have been systematically surpressed by a colonising, dominant language in their original communities, like indigenous languages. In many communities, especially in colonial and post-colonial situations, the language spoken by the majority is not one of prestige at all. Or some languages may be prestigious and expected in oral contexts, but not written - and so on. I use these terms here as best I can, but don't expect them to work 100% of the time.

So let’s unpack these assumptions a little.

1) That there is something inherently more ‘worthy’ in somebody who learns languages because they want to, rather than because they have to: and that, correspondingly, the people who want to are white (spoilers: much of Europe is multilingual, and white immigrants in majority white countries also exist, as well as discrimination against them e.g. Polish people in the UK), and that those who have to learn are not (spoilers: really? There are plenty of non-white monolinguals who are either happy being monolingual, don’t have access to learning, or don’t have to learn another language but are interested in it).

2) That everybody from a certain background automatically speaks all ‘those’ languages already, or that childhood multilingualism is a free pass - spoilers, it isn’t. Achieving high levels of fluency in multiple languages is hard, especially for languages with different writing systems, because no matter how perfect your upbringing, you’re still ultimately exposed to it maximum 50% of the time of monolingual speakers. Realistically, most people get far less exposure than 50% in any of their languages. Also, situations of multilingualism in many parts of the world are far more complex than home language / social language. You might speak one language with your father and his father, another with your mother and her family, another in the community, and another at school. Which one is your native language then? Monolinguals tell horror stories of ‘both cups half empty’ scenarios, but come on - how on earth do you expect a person to have the same size vocabulary in a language they hear only 25% of the time? Also, languages are spoken in different domains, to different people, in different social situations: just because someone hears Farsi at home doesn’t mean they can give a talk on the filing system at their local library. If something is outside of a multilingual person’s langauge domain, they might have to learn the vocabulary for it just like monolinguals. There’s no such thing as the ‘perfect bilingual’.

3) That learning another language imperfectly for leisure is laudable, but learning one imperfectly for work or survival is not. If you’re a speaker of a minority language, learning another language is necessary, ‘just what you have to do’, and if you don’t do it ‘properly’, that’s because of your lack of intelligence / laziness etc. It’s cool for the seconday school student to speak a bit of bad Japanese, but not so cool for the Indian guy who runs her favourite restaurant in Tokyo.

4) That majority speakers learning a minority language is somehow an act of surprising benevolence that should not go unrewarded. Languages are intrinsically tied up with identity - and access to them may not be a right, but a gift. Don’t assume that because you get a good reception with some speakers of one language that speakers of another will be grateful you’re learning their language, or that everyone will react the same. One of the reasons these videos are possible at all is that many Chinese speakers, in my experience, are incredibly welcoming and enthusiastic to non-natives learning Chinese. Some languages and linguistic groups have been so heavily persecuted that imagining such thing as an ‘apolitical’ language learner is a fundamental misunderstanding of the context in which the language is spoken, and essentially an impossibility when the act of speaking claims ownership to a group. Many people will not want you to learn their language, because it has been suppressed for hundreds of years - it’s theirs, not yours. We respect that. Whilst it’s great to learn a minority language, don’t do it for the YouTube likes - do it because you’re genuinely interested in the language, people, culture and history. We don’t deserve anything special for having done so.

5) That speaking a ‘foreign’ (i.e. culturally impressive / prestigious) language is much more impressive and socially acceptable than speaking a heritage language, home language or indigenous language. There are harmful language policies all around the world that simultaneously encourage the learning of ‘educational’ languages like Spanish, and at the same time forbid the use of the child’s mother tongue in class. And many non-majority languages are not foreign at all - they were spoken here, wherever you are, before English or Spanish or Russian or, yes, standard Mandarin Chinese. Policies that encourage standardised testing in English from a very young age like the ‘No Child Left Behind’ policy in the US disproportionately affect indigenous communities that are trying to revitalise their language against overwhelming callousness and cruelty - they expect bilingual children to attain the same level of English as a monolingual in first grade, which in an immersion school, they obviously won’t (and shouldn’t - they’ll get enough exposure to English as they grow up to make it not matter later down the line). But if the schools want funding, their kids have to pass those tests.

There’s more to cover - that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

Some people’s response to these videos and why the titles are ‘wrong’ would be: does it matter that he's white? Shouldn't it just be 'second language learner speaks perfect Chinese'? This is the same sort of attitude as ‘I don’t see race’. I think it does matter that he is white - because communities of many languages around the world are so used to them having to learn a second language and colonial powers not bothering to learn theirs. You wouldn't get the same reactions in these videos if he were Asian American but grew up speaking / hearing no Chinese - because then it would be expected. You also wouldn't get the same reaction if he were an immigrant in a Chinese-speaking community from somewhere else in Asia.

It also implies that all white people = monolingual Americans with no interest in other cultures. While we all are complacent and complicit in failing to educate ourselves about the effects of historical and modern colonialism, titles like this perpetuate a very harmful stereotype - and I don't mean harmful as in 'poor Xiaomanyc', but harmful in that it suggests that this attitude is ok, it's part of 'being white', and therefore doesn't need to change. The reaction when someone doesn't engage with other cultures and isn't willing to learn about them shouldn't be 'lmao classic white guy'. That not only puts the subject in a group with other 'classic white guys', but puts a nice acceptable label on what really is privilege, a lack of curiosity, ignorance, and the opportunity (which most non-white people don't have) to have everything you learn in school and university be about you. If you're ignorant - ok. We are all about many things. But you don't have any excuse not to educate yourself. The 'foreigner experience' that white people get in places like China is not the same as immigrants in a predominantly monolingual, predominantly white English speaking area. As we can see in those kind of videos, white foreigners may be stared at, but ultimately enjoy huge privilege in many places around the world. It's not the same.

It also ignores, well, essentially the whole of Europe outside the UK and Ireland and many other places around the globe, where multilingualism is incredibly common - and where the racial dichotomy commonly heard in America isn't quite appropriate, or an oversimplification of many complex ethnic/national/racial/religious/linguistic etc factors that all influence discrimination and privilege. Actually many 'white guys' in Europe and places all around the world speak four or five languages to get by - some in highly privileged upbringings and school systems, yes, but others because they have grown up in a border town, or because they are immigrants and want to give their children a better start than they did, or because they want to work abroad and send home money. Many, like people all around the world, don't get a chance to learn to read and write their first language or dialect, which is considered 'lesser' than the majority language (French, Russian, English etc); many people, like Gaelic speakers in Scotland or speakers of Basque in France, have faced historical persecution and have been denied opportunities for speaking their mother tongue. My mother was beaten and my grandparents denied jobs for being Gaelic speakers. They are white, and they have benefited from being white in lots of other ways - but their linguistic experience is light-years from Xiaomanyc's.

It isn't 'white' to be surprised at a white person speaking another language - it's just ignorant. But the two ARE correlated, because who in modern America can afford to go through twenty one years and still be ignorant? People who have never had to learn a second language; people who have always had everybody adapt to THEIR linguistic needs, and not the other way around. People who have had all media, all books, centred around people who look like them and speak like them. And even in America, that's not just 'white' - that's specifically white (often middle class) English monolinguals.

I'm not saying everybody who doesn't speak a language should feel guilty for not learning one ( it's understandably not the priority for everyone - economic reasons, family, only so many hours in the day - there are plenty of reasons why language learning when you don’t have to is also not accessible to everyone). But be aware of the double standards we have as a society towards other socially/racially/religiously disadvantaged groups versus white college grads. You can't demonise one whilst lauding the other.

To all language YouTubers - do yourself a favour, and stop doing this. Your skills are impressive - that's enough.

tldr; clickbait titles like this rely on double standards and perpetuate harmful ideas - don't write them, and let your own language skills do the talking please.

#linguistics #lingblr #racism #sociolinguistics #languages #langblr #polyglot community #I don't really know what to tag this as #chinese #xiaomanyc #taking a break from my break to clearly post about two (2) things #hualian over on main and this here #meichenxi manages

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mizelophsun11 · 3 years

Text

Mizeloph's Tale Chapter 6

Pairing - It is still General Kirigan x OC Sun Summoner, but it will eventually become Kaz Brekker

Summary - There are still unanswered questions about Anna and the Crows are discovering that there is history. Inej wants answers and all Kaz wants is to push it all down, but will he? Or will he answer some questions of his past he never thought would matter.

Word Count - 1679

Kaz had been working hard to find a way across the Fold, through his troubles he was able to acquire a man named Arken Visser, his title being The Conductor. With Arkens skill they had a way through the Fold, but there was more that Arken had in his clutches. He had also acquired access to a Heartrender who would be the key to getting them into the Little Palace. Arken has been annoying Kaz, he needed to make sure Arken knew his place within the group.

“I didn’t hire you simply to get us across the Fold” Kaz said “You’re with us because you have an understanding of smuggling Grisha out of the Little Palace, which is where our target is”

“Yes the Sun Summoner” Arken said

“Alleged” Kaz countered, he was still doubting that there was a possibility of his childhood friend being the Sun Summoner, for him Kaz would not believe it until he saw her

Inej rolled her eyes “Kaz, they would not keep a fraud in the most secure location in all of Ravka” she knew that there was more to what Kaz was saying with calling Anna the alleged Sun Summoner

“Anna Mizeloph is not guaranteed to be the Sun Summoner. Inej there is nothing right now that proves she is the real deal” Kaz was still in some sort of denial streak surrounding Anna

“But Kaz she is real, I don’t know when it will go through your mind, there is no reason to argue that she is the Sun Summoner” Inej was trying to get a point across

Kaz gave Inej a look “we will continue this discussion later” Kaz turned to Arken “This contact we are meeting up with, you are sure they can get us into the Little Palace?”

“Yes, she is a Heartrender after all, someone that I trust, not once has she led me astray so far” Arken was showing them the way to where Nina lived

“Even if you trust her, how do I know we can trust her? There is no use if she is persuadable in any way” Kaz didn’t want to be blindsides. This was a big job and so he didn’t want to put his trust towards the wrong person, there was always the change that this Heartrender could turn on them during their mission when the time was right

“Nina grew up there..” Akren started but was cut off

“Most Grisha grow up in the Little Palace” Jesper said, the key word being most

“Very few would betray their general, and fewer would help foreigners kidnap their one of their most prized possession” Kaz needed more than just Akrens word, there needed to be something else to convince him that this was smart

“Nina is what you say.. A radical, she thinks that Grisha should decide for themselves if they serve the Crown or not, she despises involuntary service more than she does Fjerdans” Arken knew that this was a good convincing point, but from Kaz attitude, Arken knew that he might have to drive the selling point a bit more when they meet Nina. That way Kaz would be able to evaluate Nina himself and see how trustworthy she is for this mission.

They arrived at the inn where they would meet Nina, on their way in Kaz noticed the innkeeper counting Fjerdan krydda. He knew that probably meant Nina would not be in her room and he was correct. They opened the door and the room was in disarray, chairs were on the floor and evidence of a struggle was prominente. The way that Nina’s luggage was unorganized was evidence that someone possibly searching for something and then abandoned it. As everyone began to search for any clues about what had happened, through the search Kaz looked around the bed then flipped over her suitcase hood with his cane to find a Drüskelle pendant underneath.

“She’s gone, kidnapped it seems” Kaz picked up the pendant

Jesper walked over and looked at what Kaz was holding “what is that?”

Akren walked over and saw the pendant “Drüskelle. They are ruthless Grisha hunters.. But I don’t understand how they would have found her, Nina is always very careful”

“The innkeeper, he was counting Fjerdan krydda when we walked in, most likely he ratted her out” he tossed the pendant back onto the bed not needing it

Arken sighed “If they did take her she is probably on a ship to Fjerda by now..”

Kaz looked out the window “they had a clear line of attack” he looked over at Inej “take a look, make sure there aren’t any more surprises” Inej nodded and began her search to see if there was any more surprises

They left the inn and stood outside waiting for Inej to come back, Kaz was already trying to think of another way into the Little Palace. There had to be another way in besides Nina, but at the moment Kaz could not come up with something. While the idea of having an insider to the Little Palace was smart, Kaz was glad that it would continue to be the four of them.

“Well.. that’s that I suppose” Jesper said

Arken nodded “We lost our way into the Little Palace”

“All clear” Inej said when she go back to their group, she was glad that there was no one left, but that meant the Fjerdan had been gone for a while and their contact was far away by now

“This seems like a reasonable juncture to abandon this whole Sun Summoner plan” Arken knew that there was no use now since the key to this ploy was probably on a ship

Kaz glared at Arken “Abandon? We’re in this now, I know what a million kruge means to me, what does it mean to you?”

“Freedom” Inej answered right away

“Fun. But it might not last very long, a few months at most” Jesper smiled

“..Retirement” Arken had been working for so many years, he was ready to never have to do anything again until he eventually died a natural death

“Right, so we push forward” he looked over to Arken “get us across the Fold, when we get to the other side I will figure out the rest”

Arken sighed “fine, to cross the Fold I will need 20 pounds of Alabaster coal, a peck of Majaloun jurda that is not the kind from Kerch, it's too weak and a goat. Now, we must meet in the dead of night, there is a wreckage of a skiff northeast on the edge of town”

“Sooo.. who gets what?” Jesper asked knowing divide and conquer was the best way to get everything

“Inej, get the jurda. I’ll get the goat and Jesper..” he pulled out some money and handed it to Jesper “just the coal, no detours” Jesper nodded and walked off

Everyone started to go their separate ways, but before Inej disappeared she wanted to continue their conversation now instead of waiting. Kaz noticed and stopped, he had said they would continue with what they were talking about earlier and he guessed Inej wanted to do that now. He knew that she still wanted some questions answered about Anna and what his past with her was, it would be better to just get it done and over with now instead of continuing to push the topic away forever. Kaz would much rather continue to push everything down, but knew that it would become more bothersome if Inej continued to fight with him about Anna.

“Inej, I want you to focus on this job, but that doesn’t seem to be possible unless we have one last conversation about Anna Mizeloph. I want your entire focus on the job after this discussion, understood?” Kaz said sternly, he wanted everyone focused and right now that did not seem possible for Inej unless they had one more discussion about Anna Mizeloph

“Alright, why are you in such denial about Anna Mizeloph being the Sun Summoner? I know that you don’t believe in Saints, but I feel like there is something more” Inej was digging for answers and wasn’t sure what she would find

Kaz sighed “what I say stays between us, understood? I don’t want you even talking to Jesper about what I am about to tell you”

Inej nodded “yes, of course, this will stay between us I promise” she had expected a bit more of a fight from Kaz, but decided not to question it

Kaz looked down at his gloved hand that was not holding onto his cane, opening and closing it and taking a deep breath “she was.. Everything to me. We stuck together, maybe in the beginning it was out of necessity, but it became something more. There was not a moment where we were not together and when we were split up, for me it was as if another piece of me had drowned in that ocean” Kaz could remember how he would always comb his fingers through her long white hair, it was what he did to calm her down. Something to her that she was so self conscious about was the key to making her feel at peace for once. He looked down at his own hands that were covered by black leather gloves, they were not always like this. Kaz never felt so vulnerable because of one person, the details of when they were together never faded. However, he needed to push all of that down and pretend like he had moved on, but in truth he never did.

“Kaz..” Inej could tell through him talking about her, Kaz was bringing emotions back he never planned on having “thank you for telling me”

“Now I want you to focus on the job, go get the jurda” Kaz said walking off to get the goat

Inej nodded and disappeared, she felt a bit better and even though there was the risk of pushing Kaz too far, Anna Mizeloph seemed to be the only exception.

Author Note - Thank you so much for everyone support! It has meant the world to me that there are other people who are seeing my work and enjoying it! I am sorry these chapters might take longer depending on how much editing I decide on doing. I have also been busy with just life and having to run around getting things done. I hope that I can start posting a bit more! I also love seeing everyones comments so please continue to leave them or pm me because I really enjoy talking to everyone!

Tag List - @rika90 @itsemy01 @hotleaf-juice @teatimeforusreaders @benbarnes-supremacy @graciefullygracie @aleksanderwh0r3 @klaudosh @herbatkazmiloscia

#shadow and bone #the grisha series #shadow and bone fanfiction #grisha fic #grishaverse #ben barnes #freddy carter #general kirigan #kaz brekker #general kirigan x reader #kaz brekker x reader

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shi-chimera · 3 years

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Balan Wonderworld headcanons have been rattling around in my head for a while now so I'm just gonna plop them here. Enjoy, don't enjoy, whatever.

◇General◇

-The Balan Theater is MASSIVE and works much like the door in Howl's Moving Castle. Anyone can access it from a number of dilapidated old buildings if they know which ones to look for.

-The theater has at least two dozen rooms, a large restaurant style kitchen, a full bar, and a massive library with window seats, a day bed, and roughly five thousand books at any given time. The books change out at random because the library has a mind of its own.

-Other rooms include Balan and Lance's bedrooms (they live in the theater), Balan's office, and some guest rooms and lounge/living room type spaces. Some of the rooms have flippable floors and sliding walls to convert them into smaller or different rooms.

-The building also has a small rear courtyard with a single, ENORMOUS tree in it. There are also some small flowerbeds and in one corner by the building is a dumpster.

-The theater's porch lights indicate if an exterior door (i.e. an entrance) is active or not. If the lights are on, the doors are open!

♡Balan♡

-Balan feeds off positive emotions and energy. It's part of why he entertains people. Smiling people are happy and happy people keep him going.

-The most extra person you can find, and has a fixation with his appearance. The smallest stain or speck of dirt, loose thread, etc. and he LOSES HIS MIND. He WILL throw an absolute drama queen level spectacle. Everything he does is over the top.

-High energy, so much so that he tends to fidget, pace, or other wise be in constant motion to burn it all off. He's also ambidexterous, but favors his left so you're likely to see him writing paperwork or lifting things with his left hand more often.

-Is an excellent chef and will cook you the most delicious meal you've ever eaten.

-Balan enjoys tea (in a traditional cup and saucer, Earl Grey in particular), but enjoys it more with cookies. If you bring him tea, make yourself a cup too because he will insist you also have one. He will also probably share a cookie with you. Save yourself a headache and just take it. He considers anything he gives you a gift and if you decline or throw it away he will be very upset and assume you don't like him anymore. You can, however, throw away napkins and the like, of course.

-NEVER drops the smile if he can at all help it. He can and will be in emotional distress and you'd never know unless you knew what to look for. Subtle eye movements and shifts in his posture reveal his mood. Will drum his fingers in specific patterns to calm himself down depending on how he's feeling, though you'll almost never see them.

-He only takes off his hat around people he trusts wholely with every fiber of his being. Lance is one of the few. He's quite pretty underneath, with finely swirling gold patterns all over him similar to Lance and a golden heart shape on his forehead (also like Lance).

-He likes wine, especially red wine. He has a high alcohol tolerance. Can and WILL drink you under the table. He gets extra flirty when he's properly drunk, and if you can get him talking he'll definitely lose track of how much he's had. He can phase objects through one another, so you'll frequently see him fill his glass by tipping it against a bottle.

-Likes to play around with a vaudeville hook and will hook Lance out of the ether if they try to phase out of a conversation or if he expressly needs something from them.

-He's HUGE and all the furniture in the theater is sized for humans, and I do mean ALL OF IT, so his lanky ass looks ridiculous sitting on any kind of furniture. There is one exception to this and that is his bed.

-Speaking of, his room is huge and decked out in a red/white/gold/navy color scheme (hmm, I wonder why?). It has wall panels. He has a walk in closet filled to the brim and a large vanity with a mirror edged in lights. It's also MESSY. Piles of clothes, random objects, makeup all over the vanity. The bed is a 3/4 circle, and it wasn't his idea. Lance actually had it put in while Balan was distracted.

-Why did Lance get Balan a new bed? Well, Balan USED TO sleep in a human sized bed, and he sleeps like he's dead. As such, he can and did fall out of bed every night without fail, usually taking a nightstand or other large object out on the way down and not waking up at all. The crashing sounds kept waking Lance up and they had enough of that.

-Threw a hissyfit when Lance got him the new bed without permission. Sleeps splayed out in the "starfish" position, usually tangled up in the sheets like they came alive and tried to strangle him. One or more limbs will usually be hanging over the side, including his head. Doesn't fall out of the new bed NEARLY as often.

-If you fall asleep in the theater, expect to wake up in that bed. He will insist you sleep in comfort, and the bed is big enough for five people so you aren't inconveniencing him in any way by laying in it. He can sleep across from you on the other side, and will sleep still as a statue if you're there.

-Has little to no concept of gender as a whole. He has no biological gender and can be whatever he wants as he feels fit. Accepts any and all pronouns. As such, he doesn't assign gender stereotypes to ANYTHING (clothes, people, objects of any kind) and doesn't understand most human created gender related norms.

-Will frequently call people Darling. If he likes you, will sometimes call you Dear. I.e. "Lance, darling, why are you always like this? Just SMILE!" and "Look at that smile, dear girl! Positively RADIANT!"

-For the LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE LOVE HIM. There is NEVER such a thing as too much affection as far as Balan is concerned. He will PINE for it. Hug him, lean on him, ask him to hold your hand or carry you around. Something, anything! He WANTS as much attention as possible and will come at you like he's more touch starved than Lance. He has ZERO concept of personal space. He will toss you in the air (he will also always catch you, calm down), hold your face, pat you on the head, flat out glomp you, the whole shebang. Unless you clearly state otherwise, he will be all over you ALL THE TIME.

-Rarely if ever gets TRULY upset, and if he does the cracks will start to show. He will pace and rapidly teleport when stressed out, and will sometimes summon doubles without realizing. The doubles can't talk, and mainly just act as stand-ins in shows.

-Always puts the visitors first and will cancel a show if he feels someone is in danger, emotional distress, etc.

-His eyes glow in the dark, and the pupils get narrower instead of smaller (kinda like a cat). His dreads are also prehensile (they can be moved at will) and he has a set of four back tendrils like Lance. He never shows them unless absolutely neccessary or for intimidation. They're curled up like little nubbins on his back, under his clothes. They're extremely sensitive and are actually feelers that let him read the energy in a room so he can react accordingly.

-He DOES have casual clothes, usually semiformal (button up shirts, suit vests, etc.) and will pull his dreads back out of his face when his hat is off.

-He enjoys witty banter, and will have a "banter battle" with anyone willing, Lance unwillingly included. Annoying Lance is actually one of his favorite pasttimes. He's kinda a lil shit sometimes.

-Is literally millenia old and has been hanging around doing this showbiz thing for ages, just in different ways. Picked up the theater thing when it was immensely popular around Shakespeare's time. He's actually older than Lance, and despite his largely immature attitude, he's actually more emotionally stable.

☆Lance☆

-Angsty lil cinnamon bun.

-Absolutely starved for affection of any kind (Balan doesn't count), and very lonely. Will immediately doubt you/deny/contradict you if you compliment them. Will squirm and make desperation "THEY'RE TOUCHING ME. WHAT DO I DO? I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. BALAN HALP." noises if you show them physical affection. Will also blush profousely.

-Plays the villain role in all the shows, and as a result almost no one likes or acknowledges them. As a whole they tend to be antisocial with very clear touch boundaries (Balan does NOT CARE). Very quiet and serious, and only speaks when absolutely necessary.

-Will NOT sugarcoat things (unless they like you, then expect sugarcoating of unimportant/trivial things). Less than stellar at the whole "emotional comfort" thing. If they like you, will hold you if you ask (especially if you're visibly upset).

-Feeds on negative emotions, meaning they have a more constant energy supply than Balan (though Balan is physically and power-wise stronger). Tends to be emotionally unstable and will get easily fed up/throw a small tantrum when they've had enough. Generally low energy and sleeps/naps often.

-Strictly They/Them pronouns. Also lacks a biological gender like Balan and can be anything they feel like being. Understands human created gender stereotypes and social norms.

-Prefers more feminine clothing. You're more likely to see casual clothes with Lance. They rarely care about other people's opinions on the matter. They prefer comfy, truly casual clothing made of soft cloth. Will always be wearing heels of some kind, though, and usually a scarf. Hair will be pulled back, typically in a messy bun or something similar.

-Does all the repairs and maintinence for the theater, including costume repair (especially if Balan's costume needs it, he will weep LOUDLY until Lance fixes the issue). Not uncommon to see them with their head in a ceiling fixing wiring, etc.

-Will absolutely melt if you stroke/run your fingers through their hair. They find it soothing, and if you pull them to you they'll fall asleep on your lap, against your shoulder, etc.

-Back tendrils are PAINFULLY sensitive, please don't touch without permission.

-Is a terrible cook in all things except desserts and sweets. They excell at all sugary treat making. Also an excellent bartender with a wide knowledge of cocktails.

-Absolute lightweight. Will get drunk off two shots, and is a weepy drunk. Tends to steer clear of drinking alcohol as a result. Enjoys Shirley Temple drinks, and can tie cherry stems into shapes with their tongue. Will cut you off if they think you've had enough booze.

-Impeccable and neat room filled with crystals, candles, incense, and lots of glow in the dark things. Their room has a purple and dark theme with small gold accents and is in general a small room with one window on the left side. Modestly sized canopy bed with plain bedding. Expect to never see this room unless they really adore you. They will know if you've so much as touched the doorknob and they WILL show up immediately to shoo you away.

-Tends to phase through the floor in a puddle of shadows, especially when trying to avoid a conversation. Will flail desperately if Balan pulls them back with his vaudeville hook.

-Lance is a light sleeper and any small sound will usually wake them up. Balan leaves them constantly sleep deprived. Sleeps curled up in a ball with their face snuggled into the comforter.

-If they find you asleep in the theater, they won't move you, but you're likely to wake up with pillows under your head and hips and a blanket tucked over you. They will also fall asleep anywhere and everywhere so if you're drowsy they'll steer you to the best napping spots (the daybed in the library is one of their favorites).

-Will throw stuff at Balan, watch your head.

-Has two sets of upper fangs, one right after the other and the second set is smaller than the first set, and one set of bottom fangs. Will rarely if ever smile, and is hesitant to be happy around you if they like you. NO ONE likes them, and if YOU like them you're the only one so they don't want to scare you off.

-They are remarkably gentle (despite being constantly cast as the villain), and tend to move more gracefully than Balan. Excellent at the Waltz and Tango, though they don't dance often.

-Eyes ALSO glow in the dark, and the pupils are slitted like a cat. They get huge and round if something catches Lance's attention.

#balan wonderworld #headcanon #balan headcanons

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ingek73 · 3 years

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Stifling, Toxic and Racist—Duchess Meghan Never Had a Chance at The Palace

Royal editor-at-large Omid Scobie sounds off on the outdated practices and attitudes within the royal family that left the Duke and Duchess of Sussex forced to make a change.

BY OMID SCOBIE

MAR 10 2021, 3:20 PM EST

I remember the feeling of frustration well. My work on an extensive biography of the Duke and Duchess of Sussex, Finding Freedom, was coming to an end. After hearing countless stories from multiple people close to the couple about how they felt unsupported and unprotected by the institution of the monarchy, it was time to address the matter with the palace side. A chance for them to respond.

“This is nonsense. … We did absolutely everything [for Meghan],” the senior aide told me over the phone. I asked for examples. “Everybody welcomed her, and she was given all the support she needed,” they continued. I asked again. “They forget how accommodating we were when it came to navigating the duchess through her first steps [as a working royal],” the aide added, somewhat curtly. I had several conversations like this over the weeks that followed—each party, be they from Clarence House, Buckingham Palace, or Kensington Palace, for the most part seemingly baffled by the Sussexes’ grievances. Finally, I took what I had and moved on.

Well over a year has passed since these calls, and the full severity of Harry and Meghan’s situation has finally been laid bare. Sitting in front of Oprah Winfrey, the duchess tearfully opened up about her darkest days as a working member of the royal family. Unprotected, undefended, and left to face a near-daily barrage of hateful commentary and negative stories, Meghan revealed how her circumstances had, at times, seen her virtually stuck indoors for weeks on end. Lunch with friends could have momentarily lifted her spirits, but social outings were dismissed by royal family members and aides who said it would be better to lie low. Her image was “everywhere right now,” they told her. Her isolated existence stood out in particular to her worried mother, Doria Ragland, who during a summer 2019 visit to Frogmore Cottage was surprised to discover that neither she nor her daughter was able to go out into Windsor town to pick up coffees. “You’re stuck in here,” Doria told Meghan at the time, according to a source.

The Oprah interview was the world’s first time hearing Meghan describe the true toll of the palace’s “no comment” policy when it came to dealing with inaccurate press coverage. One report that caused Meghan particular upset was the November 2018 allegation that she’d made the Duchess of Cambridge cry during a children’s bridesmaid dress fitting for her Windsor Castle wedding. Though the palace knew the claims were untrue (and that it was, in fact, Kate who made Meghan cry), Meghan was repeatedly told that it would not be possible to set the record straight, despite it being a story that fed into a stereotype-laden narrative. Other royal family members were often afforded more sympathetic support when it came to dealing with inaccurate press (officials even issued a statement to deny Kate’s use of Botox in July 2019), but both Harry and Meghan felt they did not have access to this same privilege.

The couple’s exasperation came to a head in January 2020, when Kensington Palace urgently requested that Prince Harry cosign a statement against an “offensive” newspaper report stating Prince William “constantly bullied” the Sussexes before their decision to step away. “Well, if we’re just throwing any statement out there now, then perhaps KP can finally set the record straight about me [not making Kate cry],” Meghan emailed an aide, asking why side of the story public image was never considered important to anyone. But, as with many requests made by the couple, her suggestion was ignored. The Duchess of Cambridge, she was told, should never be dragged into idle gossip.

Meghan’s state of well-being deteriorated as the institution refused to defend or protect her during her toughest moments. Talking to Oprah, Meghan revealed that her mental health was so fragile during her pregnancy that she “didn’t want to be alive anymore.” She turned to senior staff—including the palace’s own HR department—but her plea for help in January 2019 was repeatedly shut down. It’s not a good look for the family, she was told. Even friends who wanted to help her or speak up in her defense were regularly reminded by palace aides to keep quiet. As the cruel commentary, racist attacks, death threats, and negative tabloid stories piled up—and the institution continued to ignore the problem—Meghan later likened the experience to a friend as “death by a thousand cuts.” Her reference to an ancient Chinese execution method was no coincidence.

For the millions around the world who watched Meghan share her story, some of the experiences shared were perhaps all too familiar. Princess Diana revealed in several interviews that she considered suicide during her marriage to Prince Charles and spoke candidly about her battles with bulimia and mental distress, both of which were ignored by the institution of the monarchy. Sarah, Duchess of York, was also open about how the pressures and loneliness that came with palace life led to her own struggle with eating disorders.

When Kate quickly found public adoration as the Duchess of Cambridge, the palace would proudly tell members of the press that lessons from the past had been learned. “There has been a concerted effort to ensure that history never repeats itself,” one senior staff member working for the Cambridges told me in 2014. Yet, here we are in 2021, with a very real image of Britain’s oldest and most revered establishment once again engaged in neglect and gaslighting, and dismissing mental health.

This time, however, race—or more specifically, racism—plays a major role. Harry and Meghan’s revelation that a member of the royal family (not the queen or Prince Philip) had expressed “concern” over how dark the skin of the queen’s great-grandson might be, left many, including Oprah herself, openmouthed. But for those familiar with the institution—which on Sunday celebrated the diversity of the Commonwealth realm’s population of 2.4 billion—it comes as less of a surprise. This is an establishment that only last week briefed The Times of London that Meghan wanted to be royal “the Beyoncé way,” and that the help offered to her included establishing the queen’s Black equerry (a senior attendant, if you will) as a “mentor.” Princess Michael of Kent’s ignorance regarding wearing a blackamoor brooch during her first encounter with Meghan is a reminder that even racial sensitivity can be lacking within the family. An establishment that, as Meghan herself explained, has yet to learn the difference between rude and racist press coverage. The stiff upper lip, no matter how painful the attacks, was expected to remain impossibly rigid at all times.

The palace has continually proven itself to be unable to empathize with any person who crumbles under the pressures of its outdated and unreasonable expectations.

But when does forced silence turn into abuse? Ignoring gossip and drama may fall under the royal family’s famed (but questionable) “never complain, never explain” mantra, but expecting the victim of racism to remain voiceless while sections of the press call her “ghetto,” “straight outta Compton,” and “un-royal” borders on complicit with the attacks. As does refusing to learn how to identify the existence of the very racism that fuels them.

If it’s not considered appropriate to acknowledge racism or racial ignorance when aimed at a mixed-raced senior royal, then how should the 54 countries of the Commonwealth and its predominantly Black, Brown, and mixed population feel about the realm’s figurehead belonging to an institution that claims to celebrate “diversity” but in practice appears to uphold white supremacy? And if the lack of awareness Harry described to Oprah is true, then were race-related public duties, including Prince William recently calling out racism in British soccer and Prince Charles speaking out about racism in architecture in 2000, simply performative? It’s hard to forget that across the full lineup of working royals, all failed to acknowledge last year’s Black Lives Matter movement, which saw just as much protesting across the United Kingdom as the United States.

A brief, 61-word statement shared on behalf of the queen by the palace on March 9 revealed that the family is “saddened” by how challenging recent years have been for the Sussexes. But with the note also admitting that the family are somehow only just learning of the “full extent” of the couple’s experiences, isn’t it all a bit late? With yet another “commoner” leaving the House of Windsor emotionally battered and bruised, the palace has continually proven itself to be unable to empathize with any person who crumbles under the pressures of its outdated and unreasonable expectations. A glass-half-full view is that recent events could perhaps serve as a catalyst for change (and I hope they are). But given Harry’s own admission that his family is trapped within a “system” so fearful of the British press and public that they’re often unable to live up to their own ideals, is it actually time for us to just finally set them free?

#royals #meghan markle #prince harry #brf #duchess of sussex #duke of sussex #kate middleton #prince william #british royal family #duchess of cambridge #duke of cambridge #omid scobie #princess diana #sarah ferguson

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ravnicaforgoblins · 3 years

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Ravnica for Goblins

More Awesome NPCs of Ravnica

NPCs are one of the most important tools in a DM’s campaign. Your assorted guards, informants, bartenders, hench-persons, random civilians, and, of course, your quest-givers. Optimistically, you hope to have certain NPCs stick around for a while to have the party build a relationship with them, as opposed to getting murder-hobo-ed because your party doesn’t like their attitude. Which is why it’s so great that Ravnica is filled with cool NPCs who are definitely stronger than your party (for a while)!

A couple notes; I already did a list of Awesome NPCs, focusing on the Ladies of Ravnica, so this time I thought I’d try and give the boys (and Melek) some spotlight. Secondly, as I’ve by now made annoyingly apparent, I’m focusing on characters in the modern era of Ravnica, i.e. after the Decamillennial, because everything before the Decamillennial is a nightmare to figure out and you don’t need that headache.

Tajic, Blade of the Legion

You can’t have the Boros without Tajic. Well, you can, but you don’t want to. Tajic is the Legion’s Champion as well as their Mazerunner, and embodies all the ideals the Legion stands for. Unity, strength, passion; an unbreakable shield against all who would threaten Ravnica’s citizens. He is technically considered a Firefist, but special considerations should be made to give him the flavor he really deserves. Both of Tajic’s MTG cards have had some manner of protection against damage when involving other creatures. In addition, Firefists are actually primarily spellcasters, whereas Tajic is never seen without a blade in his hand or his name. So, to sum up, take a Firefist, add in some manner of damage resistance or even immunity contingent upon having allies present, throw in a weapon trick or two for his big wavy sword, and ta-da! You’ve got Tajic!

Momir Vig, Simic Visionary

I know I said no pre-Decamillennial, but Momir Vig is a special case. Technically, the former Guildmaster is dead, but the shadow of his reign still lingers over the Simic Combine. Momir Vig symbolizes everything Ravnica fears about the Combine; progress without restraint. Vig’s cytoplasts were oozes designed for personalized evolution in subjects to correct flaws and deficiencies (regrowing lost limbs, bolstering weakened immune systems, extra brain cells, etc). The only problem is that the project worked so well that Vig stopped seeing the need for consent, creating a new form of cytoplast that only needs to touch a host to bond with it. This raised some understandable concerns among Ravnican citizens, as well as the other Guilds. These concerns went to 11 when Vig’s Project Kraj, a gargantuan organism composed of thousands of cytoplasts, was activated to purge Ravnica and start over with a fresh slate. They went to a further 12 when Vig was killed, Project Kraj summoned every cytoplasm back to it (maiming, crippling, or killing a large number of hosts), and proceeded to go on a rampage that only ended after it ate Rakdos and went into a coma.

Momir Vig is exactly the kind of mad scientist to escape the grave, go underground, and continue his research unimpeded until it’s ready. A Rogue Guildmaster with no boundaries, or as we like to call it, a ready-made Big Bad.

Melek, Izzet Paragon

As with Vig, Melek is canonically dead, but that sort of “dead” that could conceivably be temporary if the story requires it. Melek is a Weird designed by Niv-Mizzet himself to be the Izzet Mazerunner. A certain sparkmage had other ideas however, so he absorbed the sentient being of pure elemental energy into himself at the start of the Maze and took its place, then tried to shock the other runners to death because, you know, winning. But following the physics principle that energy cannot be created or destroyed, only changed into a different form, it’s believable that Melek could return someday. Probably with a grudge against said sparkmage. Melek is a fascinating build, combining high-level spellcasting with complete elemental resistance or possibly even immunity. Basically, a wizard who can tank. Even more intriguing, any lab run by a being composed of pure energy would be calibrated to channel said energy, possibly allowing short-range teleportation within said lab. This is a brilliant exercise in lair mechanics, so don’t hold back. Lest we forget Melek is a personal project of the Firemind, aka, the single most brilliant, powerful, and egocentric fire-breathing ancient dragon wizard in Ravnican history.

Tomik Vrona, Distinguished Advokist

Given the Orzhov Syndicate’s seeming fascination with being a faceless hierarchy of priests, lawmages, ghosts, tax collectors, etc; it’s nice to have another face with a name. Tomik Vrona is a lawmage who apprenticed under Teysa Karlov herself, making him a master of Ravnican law. It also makes him uncharacteristically open to relationships with other Guilds, as he is effectively Teysa’s link to the outside world during her imprisonment. Tomik carries a strong respect for the law, but is a passionate lover of interesting & creative loopholes. In short, he’s not inherently evil/greedy like most of the Syndicate, but still has ambition in spades. He prefers to use gargoyles for transportation, treasures every book he owns, and is canonically dating/living with that hot-tempered sparkmage mentioned previously. Whether the relationship is public or not is up to you. I personally see it as a measure of trust between the NPCs and the party; it’s a pretty controversial pairing of Guilds. It could even be a Romeo & Juliet (Julio?) kind of affair, just putting that out there.

Vorel of Hull Clade

If Momir Vig represents the dark side of the Simic Combine’s experiments, Vorel represents the infinite possibility they can offer. A former Gruul shaman, he made the decision to give up a piece of his clan’s territory to a Boros Legion garrison to better fortify their home turf, and was nearly killed when they turned on him for perceived cowardice. Vorel escaped and joined the Combine, where he was given Merfolk traits and an environment that embraced his ideas & strategic thinking. Vorel is extremely grateful to his new Guild, and believes himself to be an example of how anything is possible through the Simic, no matter one’s origins. His strong passion & drive have led to great breakthroughs, but he’s definitely more emotionally-driven than most Simic researchers. Here is a Biomancer that isn’t afraid to get dirty or bloody in combat. This could be a fun experiment in crafting a Simic Melee Weapon.

Tolsimir Wolfblood, Ledev Guardian

You know that one leader elf in fantasy stories who everyone else takes orders from but never fights themselves? Yeah, this isn’t that elf. This is what you wish that elf was, a warrior archer who leads his soldiers into battle atop a giant dire wolf and kicks some serious ass. The Ledev are Selesnya’s elite mounted force, skilled fighters, archers, swordsmen, and even spellcasters. They are the cavalry, the breaking dawn on Hornburg, the “oh shit” in an enemy’s mouth. Please don’t make the mistakes of countless fantasy novels by being on bad terms with such badass warriors. Having any member of the Ledev behind you should be a boost to the party’s courage & resolve. Having Tolsimir fight alongside you should be one of the greatest honors of your life. The chance to finally recreate that “besties” relationship between Legolas & Gimli as you see who can kill the most enemies in battle.

Domri Rade, City Smasher

I hesitate to include Domri, I genuinely do. He’s a scraggly little punk who nearly brought about the destruction of the Gruul (and all of Ravnica) ultimately because he was too weak and too stupid. I include him here out of respect for the lore, but you can honestly do better. Domri Rade was considered too small & weak for any Gruul clan, so he instead bonded with the savage animals of the Rubblebelt, eventually discovering he could incite them into stampedes at will. This new power finally granted him admission into Borborygmos’ own Burning Tree Clan, but he panicked during the burial rite of passage and planeswalked away for the first time. Eventually he learned to control his powers, returned to the Rubblebelt, challenged Borborygmos for leadership of the Burning Tree clan, and won by sending wave after wave of stampeding boars to trample the cyclops Guildmaster. He was enlisted by Nicol Bolas to help destroy Ravnica, and failed to realize that meant him too as an eternal ripped out his Planeswalker Spark, killing him. Domri Rade is basically a cheap knockoff of Garruk Wildspeaker, only smaller and weaker and dumber and infinitely less dangerous. He is, however, considered by many to be an omen of the End-Raze, heralding the return of the Boar God Ilharg and the burning down of Ravnica by the Gruul who follow the Old Ways. So maybe play up that angle if you include him in your campaign.

Ral Zarek, Izzet Viceroy

If you only include one NPC from any of my lists in your Ravnica campaign, you must include Ral Zarek. Failing to do so is denying your players the opportunity to interact with the single coolest character in Ravnica. He beats out Vraska for the sole reason that he’s a much more public & accessible figure than the Gorgon Assassin, and an unexpected encounter with him is significantly less likely to end in your death/petrification. Between his good looks, cocky grin, brilliant mind, and lightning powers that put Thor to shame; Ral is certain to make any situation more interesting. He’s a great contact to have within the Izzet, a brilliant researcher, extremely talented with designing gadgets or magic items, an astonishingly powerful magic user, and a fun guy to hang around with. He can definitely have a temper on him, so understand when to back away. Hint: His hair turns from black to white when his electromancy powers are activating. You’ll also probably notice the sounds of static discharge building up around him, perhaps a faint smell of ozone, crackling energy coming from his gauntlet, and, oh yeah, his eyes glow and his smile turns into a growling grimace of death as he fills you with lightning. Whether by design or accident, Ral is basically the mascot for Ravnica, and it’s almost unthinkable for him to be absent from a campaign set there.

#ravnica for goblins #ravnica #goblins #D&D #D&D 5e #dungeons and dragons #mtg #ral zarek #domri rade #tajic #momir vig #tolsimir wolfblood #tomik vrona #vorel #melek #roleplaying #npcs

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chaotically-cas · 3 years

Note

Could you repost your seven deadly sins post? Pls?

I got you anon!! I deleted it cause I didn’t know if I vibes with it, but I got you :)

Words: 1.9k ish

Some dark/mature themes

Aka I try & explore Jally through the 7 deadly sins

Pride.

Dallas Winston had an issue with pride. He was too proud. Too proud of his rap sheet and most definitely too proud of his reputation. Like it was practically the only thing he valued, the only thing that mattered to him. His pride in everyone he hurt or stepped over. Every minute he spent in the slammer or every time someone flinched or went all white at his name. Everyone but Johnny Cade. That was probably their biggest difference. The fact that Johnny was proud of nothing, not even the clothes on his back, and Dallas too proud of everything. Proud of the way he lived his life to the point he was a walking dead man. Spitting at cops shoes and keying at random Soc’s cars. His pride was dangerous.

It’s what got him in the most trouble. With his friends and the law. Like the night Johnny got jumped, Dallas was supposed to be with him. Walk him home and keep him safe from whatever harm his parents had inflicted on him that day. But he was too busy protecting a reputation with an empty revolver and a ten inch blade. Building up his pride while Johnny’s got torn down and he was torn a new one. Again and again and again. So he didn’t know how to answer the question when Darry asked him why he hadn’t been with him that night. Johnny spoke up instead. Said Dal had business to attend to, life or death, something way more important than just walking him home a few blocks. Life and death. Pride and shame.

Envy.

Johnny Cade envied the way Dallas carried himself. How he drove fear into the hearts of those who even knew of his name. How he was able to command the response and respect of every lousy person he came across. Johnny thought he would be the most jealous of Ponyboy Curtis, at first. How he had a nice family with nice brothers and a real nice brain that got his every report card hung on the refrigerator. While Johnny’s parents could only take their best guess to what grade he was in. He supposed he could be jealous of Two Bit Matthews, too. How he had the closest thing to a perfect family that someone in their part of town that you could get. He figured he should be jealous of them, he tried to be jealous of them, but it could never really compare.

Compare to the way his heart clenched and his mind ached whenever he saw Dallas. He hated the fact that he couldn’t help himself but to antagonize over the fact that he wanted nothing more than to be like him. Because then, maybe, if he was more like him, he wouldn’t get his ass handed to him on a silver platter every single day. He wanted to live like Dallas. On his own, without his parents, doing well enough for himself that at least he was alive. And that seemed to be the only thing that matters. Because he felt like he wasn’t living. And all Dallas was doing was living. Sure, it was a lousy way to live your life. In and out of jail for crimes your ego is too big to commit. Crime and punishment. Envy and ego.

Sloth.

Dallas Winston was as lazy as you can get when it comes to… well. Just life. He dropped out of school at fourteen and never looked back. Never got a job. Never moved on. Never did shit. Got thrown in the slammer for the first time at an age so young it was commonly debated by everyone in town. Twelve. Ten. Even seven years old. The only thing about him that wasn’t the most utterly lazy, was his taste for trouble. Or as he liked to call it, adventure. Whether it was riding at the rodeo, drag racing down town, or just robbing small businesses so blind they’d probably never see again. Or maybe that was the most lazy thing about him. The fact that he would do anything to avoid any sort of responsibility.

Darry forced him to get a job once, he showed up three days in a row until he stole everything in the register and skipped town for two weeks. Even his methods of ‘work’ were lazy. Although if you asked Johnny, he would say the exact opposite. He would say that Dallas worked harder than anyone else he knew for everything he had. He would say that Dallas never really had a chance, growing up in New York and being surrounded by nothing but malice deeds his whole life. That it wasn’t his fault, that he wasn’t lazy for following suit. But he was braver and better than anyone else he knew. That it took guts to live the life he did. Guts and strength. Hard work and slouth.

Greed.

Johnny Cade never wanted anything more in his life other than to just life it. But Dallas wanted everything there was. If there was a dollar on the street, Dallas believed he was entitled to it. He believed he was entitled to anything that was in his way or that he forced to be. But Johnny wasn’t like that, he didn’t want anything. Dallas didn't understand that with the way he was raised and the way he was treated, how he didn’t want more. To Dallas, Johnny should want everything in the world. He should be more greedy than only wanting consistent meals and a good education. And even then he doesn’t feel like he deserves that, he must be crazy, according to Dallas. He has to be. He has to want more.

Dallas got everything he wanted once he decided that’s what he needed to happen. He asked for it as nicely as he could with whatever blade and heater he had, and then he got everything he asked for. He was selfish, and everyone knew it, but no one bothered to question it or his greed would have your ribs wrapped in ace bandages too. He stole and lied. Johnny only lied to himself. Dallas lied to everyone that’s ever met him. His whole facade was a lie. His whole personality was a lie. Nothing but a greedy lie mixed with an attitude that made him undesirable for anyone to be around. Anyone but Johnny. Undesirable and filthy. Greedy and indifferent.

Wrath.

Dallas Winston was the angriest person there was. Maybe even in the entire world. If there was a single thing Dallas couldn’t find to be pissed at, that would be the day. He would get mad at a tiger for having stripes. Johnny thought he had every reason to be mad. And in some ways, he did. He had every right in the world to be as mad as possible for his innocence being stolen, even if in a way, he sold it. He sold it for a bottle of Jack Daniels and a ghost of a name. For long nights with strange girls and odd bets with dangerous men. Everything fueled his rage. Everything and everyone. Especially Tim Shepard and the cozy house of the Curtis’s. Everyone in the world but Johnny. Johnny made him mad for different reasons.

Johnny made him mad for every time he didn’t get the hell out of his house or seemingly let himself take every punch and every foul word. He didn’t understand how Johnny could be so patient and not get as mad as he did. Or even if he did get mad, he sure had a funny way of showing it. Or hiding it. He tried to ask Johnny one day how the hell could always stay looking up and looking forward. How he didn’t want revenge on the entire world and everything else that had fucked him up. But in a calm voice, calm as ever, Johnny explained that there was no point in getting back at a world that doesn’t even want you in it. Pointless and dumb. Revenge and wrath.

Lust.

Dallas Winston had a lust for life. Johnny Cade did not. Dallas could go out and live, get any girl he wanted to, start whatever fight he felt like it, and win over anyone who gave him a dirty look. And it wasn’t like Johnny wasn’t capable of that, he was just as capable as anyone else, especially Dallas. But he didn’t have the lust to live in the same way. Not at all. He didn’t want to fight, he didn’t need to. He didn’t need to pick up any girl he saw, he didn’t want to. You could say that Johnny really only lusted after one thing. Only wanted one experience. Only needed one person. And that was Dallas.

But Dallas’ lust was unmatched. When you want something bad (sex, drugs, alcohol, blood), it clouds your judgment. However most of the time it is only a light fog, a brief passing mist. Not for Dallas. For Dallas it was so thick that the air wouldn’t clear no matter what Johnny tried, what anyone tried. The smoke from his cigarettes only adding to it. But if you asked him, even Johnny, if he desired anything from life; they would both say no. Because he never wished for anything, everything just seemed to. Happen. It was difficult. Desire and will. Lust and life.

Gluttony.

Johnny Cade couldn’t define the word if he read it straight from the dictionary. He had never experienced it once in his life, that’s what he would tell you. That’s what anyone who knew him would tell you as well. But truthfully, the only time Johnny ever had a reason or a time to be gluton was when he was with Dally. Not only because he made sure he was fed, that he was warm, and he had anything he needed for the basic pillars of life; but that it was the only thing he took in excessively. Johnny wasn’t someone who things belonged to. Who claimed things as his own and took them in access. He wasn’t like that at all. Only with Dallas.

Dallas wouldn't agree. He would say that Johnny wouldn't let himself indulge in any sort of behaviors that didn’t revolve around the fact that he had always wanted others to be more than he saw them as. Or maybe that he had seen them for who they wanted to be, who they were at heart. That’s what he saw in Dallas. So to him, he was the furthest thing from wanted or needing or having of any sort of gluton. That was Dallas’ responsibility. To stuff himself full with any sort of anger and selfish want he could gather. For every bit that Johnny didn’t have, Dallas had it all. Or maybe that’s just how he saw it. Wants and needs. Gluttony and moderation.

#the outsiders #Jally

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unclegarou · 4 years

Note

Welcome back! I hope you are fine! I think that this will take time, but I'd love to read your version of the NSFW Alfabeth of our human monster. P. S. Your blog is the greatest! 💋

I'm doing well, thank you for asking! I think this has been done already but since you want my version 🥺🥺🥺 here it is. ❤️ Thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoy!

Garou, NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

— Considering the fact that he's so rough and messy doing sex, you'd think he’d try to help clean up once it's over, but no. He won't even let his partner walk away from the bed, he's just ready to cuddle and fall asleep.

B = Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

— Garou really appreciates a juicy pair of thighs, he loves to squeeze and grip them when things are getting intimate.

— Also likes his s/o’s lips too, especially when they put on lip gloss or lip stick. It’s the first thing that’ll catch his attention.

— For his own body, Garou is most proud of his abs and muscles. He's trained hard to keep his body in shape and has no shame in showing it off.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

— It's so thicc and creamy. If his s/o tried to swallow after a blow job, it’d just drip down their chin and get all over the floor. It's a mess, honestly.

D = Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

— When Garou isn't fully satisfied after a night of hero hunting, he'll return to his hideout and masturbate to release that extra adrenaline and excitement.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

— Don't let his cocky attitude fool you, Garou has little experience, but he can make it seem like he knows what he's doing. The truth is, he's paying attention to detail and going with the flow. He's a fast learner, it won't take him long to figure out how things work.

F = Favorite Position (this goes without saying)

— There’s so many, but his absolute favorite is taking them on his lap. Everything is up close and bouncing right in front of him. Easy access to their lips, neck, and chest. He can keep a firm hold on their ass to stay in control too.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

— He’s mostly serious, but if his s/o is moaning really loud and trembling, he'll smirk and let out a little chuckle. This guy can't help it, he gets all cheeky when his ego is stroked.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

— Garou might do a little trimming here and there but he prefers to grow it out and keep that “manly” look.

— Yes, it's a white bush down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

— Garou can be rough and passionate at the same time?? He might be putting his s/o through multiple rounds but he's also staring into their eyes with devotion and love. It's literally so enticing and hot.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

— Garou has a hard time staying quiet while jerking off. He’s so damn focused on imagining his s/o stroking him up and down that he’ll get too caught up in the moment. There’s a lot of grunts and heavy breathing going on.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

— Praise kink! He likes to be complimented on his body/skill. It’s not a necessity or anything but he'll really appreciate it. Something simple like “Wow, you’re so big.”, will have him over the moon lmao.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

— It really doesn't matter. The bed will do just fine. Location is the last thing on his mind, he's mainly focused on his s/o.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

— Being bold and direct. It catches him by surprise whenever his partner is doing the dirty talking and feeling up his thigh. It's the quickest way to give him a boner.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

— Garou refuses to be restrained. Handcuffs, ties, and blindfolds are not his type of thing. It just makes him uncomfortable and brings back memories. (his former bullies would hold him down a lot.)

— He also wouldn’t hurt his s/o. No blood play, pain play, or anything that could harm them.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

— He prefers to receive.

— As far as his skill in giving oral, it is freaking phenomenal. He knows exactly how to use those long, slender fingers. 100/10

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

— Fast and rough, but that doesn't mean he can't be sensual. If his s/o asks him to slow down, he will.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

— Garou doesn't mind a good quickie but it's not something he’d want to do often. He has way too much energy to be playing around for 10 or 15 minutes. He’ll want another round later on.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

— Hell yeah. There's no way Garou can turn down a challenge. He's always willing to do some wild shit. Even if he might’ve not enjoyed it, you can't say he didn't try.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

— His stamina is off the charts. He can go as many rounds as his s/o can handle.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

— Garou thinks whatever a toy can do, he can do better. But if his s/o is really into that kind of thing, he'll try out a few.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

— We all know Garou loves to tease. However, it won’t last for too long because he’ll get turned on, and it kind of backfires.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

— Garou isn’t the quiet type, he’s not ashamed of letting out a few groans, especially towards the end when he’s nearing his orgasm.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

— Garou likes to wrap his hand around his s/o’s neck, but very gently. It really brings out his dominant side, and he'll kiss them while he does it.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

already answered here!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

— Pretty moderate. He might think about it but he isn’t constantly craving for it. Whenever he s/o suggest it, he’s ready.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

— Garou cannot fall asleep if his s/o isn’t in his arms. Doesn’t matter if he’s super sweaty and hot, he needs to hold them.

#garou #one punch man #opm garou #opm #one punch man garou #garou one punch man #garou x reader

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carlyraejcpsen · 4 years

Text

i’ve been debating a lot in the past few weeks about whether to post something about this, but seeing as there are a lot of people talking about @londonhq at the moment, i wanted to share my experience with them.

NOTE: i have posted screenshots of the conversation in a private post HERE. i will be pasting them in as text in this post instead of as photos because that is more accessible, but you can also view the screenshots so you can see i have not edited the text in any way.

i reached out to the main about three weeks ago because i was concerned about the lack of diversity in their roleplay. i was also concerned that they were repeatedly posting in the tags about how they were looking for more diverse characters and were inclusive of all muses, while doing nothing to actually promote diversity amongst their existing players. at the time, they had 4 poc characters out of a total of 36. three of these characters were white-passing. this, of course, does not erase their identities as people of colour, but it is quite worrying when it is your only form of representation.

as i’m sure many of you who regularly play muses of colour can attest to, it is incredibly intimidating to join a predominantly white group, as far too often characters who are not white can be ignored by other players. therefore, no matter how much the admins say how inclusive and welcoming the group is, you are immediately wary of joining. to that effect, i reached out to the main with the following message, suggesting that they put a rule in place that encourages existing members to use faceclaims of colour if they wish to play multiple characters. again, i have copied this as text to make it more accessible, you can find the screenshots HERE.

waitresslondon: hi, i saw your rp in the tags and i just wanted to shoot you a message because i am really concerned about the lack of diversity. i can see that you have repeatedly posted in the tags stating that you are accepting of all muses and looking for more diversity, but it doesn't appear that you have put any rules in place to actually fix this issue? i.e. people who play multiple characters must make sure that a certain number of them are poc. diversity in an rp starts with the admins: if you don't put something in place, you can't expect people to come to you with their muses of colour, because we can't believe they will be accepted in such a white-dominated rp. especially when the last time someone asked you about diversity, the admin who responded literally listed the poc muses like they were tokens (especially because you could count them on one hand!). i hope this doesn't come off as an attack, i really hope you take what i have said into consideration and put measures in place going forward. i am happy to help you as much as i can if you would like any advice etc. especially because i live in london!

here is the previous ask i referenced in my message, which they had answered a few weeks before i reached out:

[ IMAGE ID: A screenshot taken from londonhq of an anonymous message reading: “How diverse is your roleplay? On average if you do not have an exact number.” The response from londonhq reads: “Are you able to define the word ‘diverse’ and in what context?” ]

[ IMAGE ID: A screenshot taken from londonhq of an anonymous message reading: “Most definitely. What I meant was your number of poc within the rp.” The response from londonhq reads: “I feel pretty confident that we are quite diverse with our face claim especially since we have the following POC’s in the roleplay; Amandla Stenberg, Ana De Armas, Jordan Fisher, Zayn Malik, Zendaya and we are always encouraging and wanting more, a lot if not all of our Most Wanted are actually POC because I would personally would love to see more colour on our dash. I will say that I think we could be MORE diverse but also that we are doing what we can by promoting for more POC faces in order to attract those kinds of players and muses. I hope this answers your question” ]

I personally believe that my concerns were valid and that my message was incredibly reasonably. I purposefully reached out to them in private as I don’t believe in public callout posts without giving someone a chance to rectify their behaviour. The roleplay then got back to me with the following response (again, the original screenshots are here):

londonhq: Hi there. While I appreciate your message and I don’t take it as an attack we here at Londonhq do all that we can to try and get diversity into our group. I myself play an Ana de Armas who is considered POC. Everyone can play who they want because it’s a roleplay and I strongly encourage people to play who they feel comfortable with. In saying that we do have some POC in the group like Emeraude Toubias ( Mexican and Lebanese ), Ana de Armas ( Cuban and Spanish ) as I mentioned, Odette Anabelle ( Cuban, Spanish, French, Italian ) which this is just the start I can ensure you that London is doing the best we can to be a safe place for POC. While I can agree rules can reinforce this I would like londonhq to be a place where people can play who they feel comfortable with and I personally don’t see the harm in this as muse is something that comes naturally to people and you can’t force people to play muses they don’t want to play. If people don’t want to bring POC here that’s completely fine I can’t change their attitude on things, that’s a decision they have made but there are people here planning on bringing in POC and the more that they do hopefully the more they will feel comfortable to do so.

I was so saddened to receive this message and responded as such, because I simply cannot believe that they don’t see the harm in a group of players who are supposedly only comfortable playing white characters? Especially when they are promoting it as somewhere welcoming and inclusive. Sorry this one’s a long one!

waitresslondon: i won’t lie, i was incredibly disappointed to read your response. especially because I specifically mentioned the last response listing poc characters like tokens, which is the exact same thing you did in your reply just now. i reached out to you in the hopes that you were willing to listen and take an active part in making the rpc and your rp specifically more diverse and accepting. from your reply i can clearly see that that is not the case.

quite frankly, 4 out of 36 characters being portrayed by faceclaims of colour is not enough. it is nowhere near enough. especially when three of them are white passing. of course that does not erase their identity as a poc, but when it is you only form of representation it is not even close to being acceptable. like i said, just saying that you would like more poc muses isn’t “doing everything you can.” when i look at your masterlist, it immediately makes me think that my muses of colour will not be accepted in your rp. characters of colour are so often ignored and passed over for plots, which makes people incredibly wary about joining rps with their diverse muses, so please do consider that seeing a masterlist as overwhelmingly white as yours is an instant red flag.

change starts with YOU, the admins. if you want a diverse rp, you need to play diverse characters. you need to encourage your members to do the same, specifically like i mentioned with rules about multiple characters. if they are not comfortable playing poc muses, then they do not have to play multiples, but honestly i really can’t believe that you don’t see the issue with a group of writers who are only comfortable playing white characters. you’re telling me that people can happily take 4 or 5 characters and make them all differentiable from each other, but cannot bring themselves to write even one of them as a person of colour. there’s no excuse for it in this day and age honestly, there are countless guides about playing characters of all different backgrounds which are easy to find with very little effort. i’ve also been in and have adminned multiple rps where we have brought in this kind of rule and it absolutely did not stop people from applying for multiple characters. it only served to improve the diversity of faceclaims in the rp and encourage more people to join with their muses of colour.

you said “If people don’t want to bring POC here that’s completely fine I can’t change their attitude on things,” but as an admin you CAN. there are so many people in the rpc who play diverse muses, but without rules in place to make them welcome and wanted, you push them away. so i really must please implore you to look at your rp and the rules and make a positive change. i also can’t help but take it just a little bit personally: london is one of the most diverse cities in the world with over 40% of the population belonging to an ethnic minority, so it really does hurt to see it represented so poorly. again, i reached out to help and that offer still stands, if you are willing.

That was the end of the conversation, as they never responded to that message. This was about three weeks ago now, as I decided to give them time to see if they would adjust their behaviour and make any changes that would make it clear they had taken my criticism on board. Clearly this has not been the case. Below is the only post they have made about the matter:

[ IMAGE ID: A screenshot taken from londonhq of an admin note reading: “Hey everyone, Admin Armi here. I know there’s been some heavy concerns regarding the lack of diversity in this group and we feel we must address this once and for all. We admins here at LondonHQ have expressed since the opening day that we are a friendly, welcoming, inclusive group. We’d never turn away or even discourage any muse that is a POC or nonbinary, in fact, we highly encourage them! Diversity is greatly welcomed and desired. We’ve done all that we could to express how much we desire more diversity in this group as we’d love to hold true to how diverse London truly is. Now that being said, we cannot and will not force any of our players or applicants to pick up a FC regardless of their ethnicity or gender. As a WOC myself, I would personally find it incredibly offensive to implement such a rule solely based on one’s skin color. We’ve always encouraged our players to pick up the faces they are comfortable with, thus never banning a gender for the sake of the gender ratio. Our players’ comfort, happiness and creativity is our top priority. We welcome all variety of muses here at London. If you strongly feel we need to have more diversity in this group then please send in that app! We’d love to have you! Be the change you want to see. That’s all we have to say regarding this topic. Any further anonymous messages on this matter will be disregarded.” ]

I will let you draw your own conclusions from this post, but to me, it is clear that the lack of diversity in this group is not something they see a problem with nor truly wish to change. I was quite frankly shocked too to read them saying “Be the change you want to see.” As the admins, you need to be that change if you actually want to see it! It is not on your players to make your roleplay more diverse, it is on you.

As just one further point, they also continue to use a PSD that whitewashes the few faceclaims of colour that they have, which is just...yeah, you know, you get it.

#rpc #rpt #londonhq #i hate posting things like this i rly hope it's coherent etc

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swanlake1998 · 3 years

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Article: Why I Left My Classical Ballet Job to Explore My Roots in Javanese Dance

Date: February 6, 2021

By: Cat Woods

At the peak of her career, dancer Juliet Burnett left the Australian Ballet to explore her Javanese roots. Now, the Indonesian-Australian ballerina is drawing on her heritage to expand the often narrow world of performing arts.

When Juliet Burnett smiles, the full gloriousness of her high-cheekbones and angular face are both feline and balletic, not dissimilar to the finely boned, regal faces of Javanese dancers. Her facial expressions, like her body — sculpted by almost two decades of professional dance — are deliberate and refined.

It's been five years since Burnett left The Australian Ballet at the peak of her career, having been steadily promoted, over 13 years, to the role of senior artist within the Melbourne-based company.

From her family home in Sydney, where she is temporarily living while borders are closed for travel due to COVID-19, Burnett is fired up about the attitudes of classical dance. She has memories of feeling like an outsider amongst a largely middle-class, white company that espoused creative adventurism but failed to appeal to — or recruit — more than a couple of Indigenous dancers, nor to make the Asian-Australian dancers in the company feel that their cultural heritage was encouraged in the imperial values of classical ballet. "Black dancers, Asian dancers, and dancers of color aren't made to feel like their cultural provenance is celebrated," she tells Allure.

"I felt like the role of women in classical ballet is to be subservient," she says now, reflective and thoughtful in her wording, though not cautious. Burnett is not one for tip-toeing about. "Not just the roles for women, but the very system of classical ballet.”

The Australian Ballet encountered backlash in June this year after it published a black square on social media. The national ballet company was accused by its Instagram followers of being "lazy," doing the bare minimum in its response to Black Lives Matter.

In 2019, in a review of the Australian Ballet’s version of The Nutcracker for Australian arts publication Limelight Magazine, the critic viewed the production as perpetuating "racialised stereotypes of Chinese characters." The lack of diversity in the ballet industry as a whole has been brought to public conversation by numerous dancers over recent years, including Misty Copeland, who, via a 2019 Instagram post, called out dancers who were in blackface during a rehearsal for a performance for the Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow. (Following the post and media coverage, the New York Times reported that the general director for the Bolshoi said in a statement at the time that the ballet company "will not comment on the absurd allegation" of racism.)

A statement provided to Allure from The Australian Ballet says: "The Australian Ballet aims to reflect the diverse Australian community that we operate in and foster an inclusive environment for all. We’re continuing to learn and we are working on longer-term strategies to increase participation in dance across all communities, and provide more access to The Australian Ballet for all Australians, it may take time, but we are committed to working on the bigger picture."

The statement continues: "The Australian Ballet recruited its first Indigenous dancer [Ella Havelka] in 2012, and since then has recruited a second First Nations dancer."

While Burnett would eventually become an outspoken advocate for diversity in ballet, her experience with dance began without an agenda towards a career, nor even the intention to practice classical ballet.

"My grandmother, Raden Ayu Catherine Ismadillah Brataatmaja, was a professional Javanese dancer," she says. "As soon as I was five, my mother was curious about whether dance was in my blood too, so she enrolled me in ballet with the idea that I could follow in her footsteps. She was totally not a pushy dance mum."

Brataatmaja was the star palace dancer of the Surakarta Sultanate (Javanese monarchy in Indonesia), performing the royal court dance Bedhaya Ketawang for Indonesian royalty. Widyas Burnett, while also fully encouraging her daughter to embrace classical ballet, endeavored to make the costume for 14-year-old Juliet's first school choreographic effort, "Campursari." The final number combined classical ballet moves with Javanese dance positions, set to the soundtrack of traditional gamelan music.

Like many young dancers who are recruited to train endless hours through their pre-teen and teenage years to be auditioned for international ballet schools, her talent was spotted by her dance teachers, Valerie Jenkins and Christine Keith. Her graduation from The Australian Ballet School led to the beginnings of her career in 2003. As a dancer with The Australian Ballet, she embodied Odette in Swan Lake, Juliet in Romeo and Juliet, Giselle, and La Sylphide.

In 2011, Burnett was awarded the Khitercs Hirai International Scholarship, intended to allow members of The Australian Ballet companies to travel internationally. She used the scholarship to visit Indonesia to study her grandmother's art of Javanese dance and to initiate workshops for Indonesian kids — particularly those in underprivileged "slums" along the Ciliwung riverbank in Java. Burnett also trained in the theatrical, dance, and meditation techniques as pioneered by her uncle, the actor, poet, and activist, W.S. Rendra.

"When visiting my Mum's side of the family in Indonesia, we'd arrive in Jakarta and there's this big fly road that was built during Suharto's time, and you go across this modern freeway and you peer down the side and there are all these shanty towns," she recalls. At a young age, Burnett was struck by the financial inequity in such a big, prosperous city. Her parents were very open about the fact that many children didn’t have access to clean drinking water, but "then I'd go to my aunt's place and have a beautiful home-cooked meal and watch their big screen TV and everything’s clean and they’ve got their maid cooking for us." Once her dance career started taking off, she "wanted to go back and try and reconnect and bring something back to [those children]."

"Ballet dancers can live in a bubble," she says. "The level of training, rehearsal and performance becomes more than work, it's a lifestyle. I knew, from early on, that I would have to work to maintain my curiosity for other cultures, other forms of dance, to ensure I was not losing my own spirit."

There was no sudden event that resulted in Burnett's choice to leave The Australian Ballet. In fact, Burnett says she had been open with the Ballet from the beginning of her tenure about the fact that she found the hierarchical structure to be outdated and felt that it clashed with her values, and saw the system of promoting dancers destroy careers. Since leaving The Australian Ballet, Burnett has been more creative and vocal in demonstrating how dance can be a political and social statement, and provocation to limited perspectives on culture, poverty, justice, and gender. She created and shared “Injustice: a short film” on her website last year. To get the clips seen in the film, Burnett made a call out on Instagram, inviting people to submit videos of themselves following her choreographic instructions.

In pre-pandemic times, Burnett resided in Belgium, where she is a dancer for The Royal Ballet of Flanders. Burnett has also just launched her own company, A-Part. "It's purely online for now," she explains, "but obviously, once the travel restrictions allow and it is safe to do so, it will be a real-world dance company that travels and performs."

For Burnett, working with the Pina Bausch Company and alongside Akram Khan as a first soloist dancer with The Royal Ballet of Flanders allowed her to shake off the shackles of rigid, classical training and methodology in favor of the liberation, the sometimes feral and primitive nature of contemporary dance and to finally indulge her need to journey into her own Indonesian roots.

"What's wonderful about the Royal Ballet of Flanders is that it's enabled me to dance the choreography of Pina Bausch, Akram Khan, and Édouard Lock, all these contemporary choreographers who I'd never have had access to in Australia," she says. "After I left The Australian Ballet, I wanted to delve into my artistic identity."

Burnett's activism has been creative, positive, and aligned with her belief that education and collaboration are the only ways to provide inclusive, safe environments for those in the dance world. She has presented master classes in collaboration with Ballet.id (Yayasan Bina Ballet Indonesia), which is a non-profit foundation enabling partnerships between Indonesian and international dancers and academics.

In an essay for Pointe in August, writer and educator Shaté L. Hayes writes that the only meaningful response to racial insensitivity within ballet is to genuinely commit to change within ballet schools through major companies. Posting PR-approved hashtags isn’t enough.

David McAllister left his role as artistic director of the Australian Ballet last year. In the statement provided to Allure, the new artistic director, David Hallberg, says, "The future of The Australian Ballet will continue to uphold the rich repertoire of classical ballet but as well, search for new ways to communicate the spirit of dance in this country. I am absorbing the diversity that makes Australia the great country it is, full of varied voices in dance, music, and art, that will be a part of building the repertoire at The Australian Ballet."

That can't happen too soon. Burnett's bravery in speaking of her own experience of working within the ballet world as an Asian-Australian also echoes the experiences of Black, Latinx, and multiracial dancers internationally. “For those of us who were mixed race or fully Asian, Black, or a dancer of color, the ballet world can feel really homogenous, and difficult to find your place and to find a way to celebrate your cultural identity with truth and authenticity,” Burnett says. “It’s important not to be afraid to question the systems that we work in, to say things to your directors. I really hope for a day when the structures we work in don't ask dancers to be mute, subservient, and to comply all the time."

#article #juliet burnett #allure #racism #ballet

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