#like you can't keep treating them as the same amount of informed as the beginning of the story. especially if they're gonna get judged | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vanillaxoshi · 4 months ago

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I was curious on how Cahaya's school life could possibly be in Age bracket and theres this one experience i remember very distinctly when i was in 6th grade. Hope you enjoy :D

btw "hi" is normal speech 'hi' is written and 'hi' is thoughts

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

He'd thought 3rd grade would be better than 1st or 2nd grade. Unexpectedly, he'd be horribly wrong. Sure it could have something to do with him being the youngest there

but he thinks age shouldn't really matter on how you treat someone

...

Maybe skipping grades isn't as cool as he thought it would be

No matter, he has long concluded that Fang to be the only friend he'll ever make in his life.

Which brings him to the library. Its not extravagant, far from the greatest libraries hes ever been in, the books aren't really great in terms of quality, and there are still some rowdy kids here and there (despite the very obvious rule of being silent in a library)

But its But it is still one of the more calming places of the school

Entering through the double doors, Cahaya greets the librarian with a simple wave, earning a smile and a nod from the middle aged woman. Thats the other thing, as he makes his way through the rows and rows of bookshelves that are far too big than him

The librarian is really kind to him, she knows sign language; advance ones even! (he couldn't make out some of them) She even said she might start a mini class for students to learn sign language, it'll basically be a secret club here in the library!

Whats even more spectacular is that she didn't seem bothered by his exaggerated arms shaking making up and down motions and legs tapping excitedly—he later learns it's called "stimming"— truly the coolest person in this school. Beside himself and Fang, of course

The only problem is that she informed him that they needed at least 3 participants, something about legality and how it could paint a bad picture if it's just the both of them. Which is silly!

What's so wrong with a private class between a student and a teacher? whats an adult gonna do to a child? the worst he could think is punishing, he can't think what else an adult could do… lecture maybe?

That doesn't sound so bad

Thinking about it is just ruining his mood. His brows crest together as his eyes scans the rows and rows of books, completely ignoring the more obvious children books and through the more intellectually advance ones. His body moved with practiced ease as he slowly gathers the books, having to actually hop a few times to pick some of the higher located ones. Grabbing 2 at a time and stacking them on a nearby table

He looks at the stack when it reaches almost half his height. Huh. Maybe he overdid it a little bit

He picked the book at the top and so it begins

He usually doesn't read this much considering the limited amount of time that they have, but Fang isn't here today, so he doesn't really have anything to pass the time

As time went by with each book slowly going to the opposite stack, his mind wanders away making the words all jumbled up

Huffing, he rereads the start of the paragraph.

His mind went back to the topic of him skipping grades; how he was proud of himself at first... until they explained that Fang wouldn't be in the same class as him

He didn't mind at first, since they figured they could always just meet up during recess and lunch in the library. But sometimes that wasn't reliable..

Shaking his head, he tries to think of something else; like getting another person to join the super awesome secret club in the library. One problem.

He doesn't really have anyone that's in the same grade as him.

Fang is a grade below him and Daun is WAY above him, and no one wants to talk to the silent kid who "can't talk". Which ouch. He never asked to be born this way, but once again he reminds himself that he had long accepted it. Plus the people he actually cares about loves and respects him so he doesn't really mind.

Keeps him focus on something more important; like studying.

Even if it does get lonely some days... maybe he got too used to having Fang's presenc- nope nope. Ignore that thought, close it. Nope.

Just... focus on reading this chapter, he only has 7 more minutes if his watch was any indication. What was this even about? The fascinating variety of colors in the sk-

All the hair in his arms stood straight as a shiver goes through his whole body. He knows the feeling all too well.

'Ah Maya' his mind helpfully remind him. Going through his catalog of classmates in quick sessions without hopefully looking suspicious

Maya was one of the more... eh ok classmate, simply because she doesn't really bother him, actually... except for that one time.

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

'None of your business?' "Aww c'mon don't act that way." she pouts, it quickly turns to a bunch of giggles.

"I'm Maya" 'I know'... "and you are?" 'You already know.'

"I'm making small talk over here give me a break," she chuckled. He sighed and quickly wrote 'Apologies if I seem rude, I thought yo-' he didn't even get to finish his writing

"Why are you writing anyway? Isn't tiring? Do you just carry that board wherever you go?" ah. Here we go-

"Why don't you just speak?" she went to touch him, "do you have a hearing prob-"

*SLAP*

A pencil could be heard as everyone stares at them, at HIM. his wide-eyed stare locked into the hand that he slapped away mere inches from his face. The owner of the hand looks like a fish out of water, staring at him in disbelief. The sound of footsteps made the two newly 3rd graders turn

The teacher was coming. And he looked displeased.

'I've never upsetted a teacher before' his hand shake as he tries to comprehend the words that are flying a mile a minute through his head, he couldn't even bring himself to write an explanation, the words aren't forming for him.

The blank board mocks him.

"What is the meaning of this, you can't-" he saw in the corner of his peripheral view as Maya sporadically shake her hands in front of the teacher, "NO, nono it was a mist—" the words all blur together for him. His surroundings turning hazy. Everything is a jumbled up mess. The stares. The words. The shouts. It's too much

IT'S TOO MUCH

*THUNK*

He slaps his board with the words "LEAVE ME ALONE" messily written on it and...

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

He couldn't really remember what happens next. After that disastrous first meeting, she has elected to avoid him

Even so, he frequently finds her gaze on him and often times it freaks him out; he starts shuffling his hands or drumming his fingers for example. But, it's been weeks and she hasn't done anything so he'll give her a pass

She seemed like the observent type anyway.

*KRINGGGG~*

His whole body jolted at the ringing, fully jumped out of his chair from the jumpscare. Quickly scrambling to collect his books and order them back again, noting that Maya already left when he was busy reminiscing.

He dashes out of the library to go to his classes. Theres still a few more hours before school ends.

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

Walking through the hallway of the school, he kicks at anything that so happened to cross his path; pencils, erasers, a few cute pen lids, that wrapper, and rumpled paper.

Actually the last 2 he puts in the trash

Most of the 1st-3rd graders have already gone home after doing this noon's prayer, theres probably still some in the cafeteria.. maybe outside too.

The only reason he isn't chilling in the sofa cuddling with Ocho is because he has to wait for Daun's class to be over, first to save gas and time, the second is because he isn't allowed to go home on his own, which is fairly insulting

He knows his way back thank you very much.

Stealing a glance at the clock he just walks past. 12.30, Daun's class ends in 1 more hour. How does Cahaya past the time?

Obviously by going to the school's library, what else?

Though it seems today is not his lucky day..

He stops in his tracks, straining his ears to focus on the faintest of laughters (plural!) that could be heard in the turning corridor. slowly increasing in volume. steadly getting closer.

It was either 2 things:

They're a bunch of troublemakers who are WAY too big for him to handle and his only saving grace is to pray they aren't bullies.

Or.. they are a couple of 1st-3rd graders who hadn't gone home yet, he can only hope they'd ignore him

Terrible scenarios, both of them.

as he is quickly mapping out the school in his head to book it out of there but still be able to make it to the library the fastest, beads of sweat flows down the side of his face to his chubby cheeks as he tries to concentrate with the ever daunting sound of children approuching.

He would need to run to the otherside of the school, through the second exit, past a fence or circle through the outer building to go through the front gate; but that in itself could take a hand full of minutes and THIS is a shortcut a.k.a the fastest route to the library

Maybe he could break a window and go through the school's yard?

But that would still take time AND strength to boot, not even counting the property damage, oh maybe he-

*GASP*

His whole body went rigged and incredbily cold when he heard that.. its like how Api dunked him in a freezing pool that one time

Quickly schooling his face to show the best poker face he could muster, he turns... oh dear Lord who has forsaken him today...

'Its the SugarSkies squad'

Who are they? Well imagine a pack of bullies, now take that and turn it 180⁰. Just the complete opposite but equally annoying and dial it up to 200% in terms of overbaring. The sweetest group of kids to the point even upperclassmen are fond and adore them, hench the name

I mean who wouldn't? They're kind to everyone, tries to help the best they can, respect the elders, and try to include everyone! (which unfortunately counts him...)

"Hey, isn't that Cahaya?" the unofficial leader of the group smiled at him, Ahmad. Warm brown eyes locked unto him, the black haired boy seems to be delighted to see him.

Oh boy...

"It is! Little guy hey!" "Hey little guy!" the twins shouted in unison

Utsman and (Fa)tima respectfully, the duo arabic freckled twins are known for their wild energy; Utsman's fluffy hair even seemed messier than usual

"Why are you just standing there? Why is he just standing there?" The last voice belongs to the fourth and final member, Auliya. Shes more known as Liya with short frizzy incredibly dark brown hair and actually kinda looks like a boy at first glance... if you ignored the skirt that is.

Cahaya couldn't really see it. He will admit that hes a bit jealous of her heterochromia eyes, look at those pretty orbs, reminds him of a lake in a forest

"Is this kid broken?" a hand waved right in front of his face scared him half to death, recoiling back from the hand his face reddens when laughter filled his ears.

Being startled is not funny.

"Utsman don't scare people, you know that's mean.." the yellow hijabi scolded, "I didn't even mean to scare him! Plus i saw you laugh Tima don't even!" "Did not! "Did too!" "Did no-"

"Why are you even still here?" Ahmad cuts the twin's bickering, "most kids usually wait at the front gate to be picked up.. are you lost?"

Scoffing at the insult, he gives the blue themed boy a note he prepared just in case any teacher or adult would ask. 'I go home with my brother so I'm waiting for him.'

"Oh right, your brother's the same class as your sister's Ahmad, Daun right?" He nods at the singaporean girl.

Just like their namesake suggests, the "Sugarskies" are a bunch of international students. Ahmad being malay-indo, the twins are arabic if he remembers correctly, and Auliya is singaporean

Another reason for their popularity is due to this, which he honestly doesn't know what are the chances of it actually happening (his working theory is that they all gravitated to one another because of this shared similarity)

"-names can be weird you know"

"yea but who names their kids based on objects or elements? Its like having a sister named Table or something"

"True.. usually you name pets those"

"Pretty sure its like how theres people who're named Ruby or Star or Wednesday," Ahmad pointed out

"Oh, like June!"

Cahaya is already too exhausted by their conversation and had already started to tune them out while looking for a way to escape. 'Honestly the window is still an option, the strength i would need to break one-'

"-beside the point Liya! oh hey, since you brother's class ends with my sister's." Ahmad scratches his chin thoughtfully, "you still have a few hours right?"

"Cahaya?"

Shaking his head and focusing on them again, a red shade dusted his cheeks, he nods slowly

Matching grins slowly form on their faces. Terifiyying.

'they look like sharks...'

"Great! then you can play with us while you wait." Pure horror adorned Cahaya's face, he rushed to explain that hes going to the library on his board

He could never write fast enough.

"I'm just gonna assume you're writing an agreement, its decided!" "yay!" "fun."

He shook his head frantically and wrote a bunch of nos instead

"Ahmad he looks like he wants to show us something.."

Utsman pops right next to him out of nowhere, startling Cahaya into quickly showing his board

'I DON'T WANNA PLAY!!! NONononono! NO!'

"I don't know what you're trying to show cause I can't read, but these look like funny squibbles." The only reason they look like squibbles is because hes frantically writi-

'HE CAN'T READ!?!'

Utsman grabbed his board amist Cahaya's bewilderment and showed the others. Cahaya deflated when he noticed the way Utsman is holding the board covers the "I don't wanna play" and only showing the nos...

"1.. 2.. 3... 4..- theres 8 nos which makes it a positive, its a yes!"

He snatchs the board from Utsman, frustration building, "hey- rude..." Utsman protested but admittedly lets it go.

He sees Fatima staring at his board in the corner of his eyes

"How are we supposed to play if Haya doesn't speak?"

"we'll just play a silent game, like hide and seek!"

"I thought the school banned that game?"

"oh yea.. what was it again?" "some kids were caught hiding in closets i think"

"I heard it was because a kid was never found" "Pretty sure thats just a-"

Sighing, Cahaya attempts to once again communicate the fact that he does not want to play

"You know writing is just taking too much time right? Why are you even writing?"

"He can't speak Utsman.."

"Why can't he speak? Its just making noise with your mouth"

"I don't know hes just WEIRD like that"

"Liya that was mean..."

"What other word would you say Tima?" "Uhhh... unique?"

"Oh I know!" Ahmad exclaims suddenly, even Cahaya's attention turns to him

"Clearly Cahaya isn't talking because he could just write on his board, it's like my sister with her book or phone."

A horrible feeling grew in Cahaya's stomach

"And theres only one way my parents could get her to interact with us," Ahmad smiles as hes explaining to them. The pit grew.

"All we have to do is take his board!"

Cahaya felt a sharp pain in his liver as his blood turns freezing cold. Ahmad's words dawning on him

Utsman ever happy to learn something new and listen to his best friend, beamed. "OOHHHHH, that makes sense! Cahaya just stop writing," he smiles at him

"Yeah put the board in your bag or something and you'll burst into song like Tima over here"

"Hey! my singing is a good thing Liya!"

thump thump bump ba dump, his heart feels like its trying to escape his ribcage, his hand is tired from how fast hes writing

'nononono-' His frantic writing was abruptly stopped by Ahmad ripping the board out of his hands

His heart stops.

"There, you're free now little guy!" Ahmad's voice mocks him. Free. Free. Freefree. This isn't freedom. He clutches at air

"Ahmad hes still not talking..." don't cry. don't. don't.

4 breaths in.. 8 out.. 4 in... 8 out

stabilizing himself, he notices the group are huddled in like a bunch of bugs. He doesn't miss the way Fatima is staring at his board, whispering hushed tones. The way she abruptly straighten, eyes wide, made him worry

The way Ahmad and Utsman syncronize stare and grin at him does NOT make him feel any better. They look like predators

Auliya on the otherhand looks quite doubtful

"How would tickling make him speak?" What.

"You know how in those movies the main characters overcame their issues by going over their limits and facing their fears?" Ahmad cheerfully explains

"If we tickle him, his voice will for sure come out!"

"In the form of laughter and then speech!" Utsman continued, "huh." hand on her chin as Liya considered that info, "that might actually work."

NononoNONONO!!

doesn't HE get a say in this???

"wait.. guys i don't think-"

"GET HIM!!"

The ground shrieks from how sharp he turns on his shoes, ready to run for his life. Screw going to the library

But there was no way he'd be able to outrun them. Not even his fear could protect him

A soundless scream erupts inside his chest as he felt phantom fingers reaching him. There was no hope to escape from the start, he never even stood a chance.

He felt his body burning as they crash to the floor, only his bag protecting his fall

*THUD*

The sensation. The forced feeling. The constant BURN. Their joy as hes withering. He couldn't even tuck his body into a ball.

arms. legs. shoulders. Does nothing but make him struggle. Their laughter ringing as a cruel tone in the silent halls. His body spasm with each touch, especially when he sees Ahmad going for his chest to get a reaction.

Does his pained laughter mean nothing?

He lets his instincts take the wheel. Didn't even process what he did next as fear clouded his judgement.

He's watched animals do anything to survive

*CRUNCH*

"AHHH!!"

The taste of tangy salt is disgusting. But the freedom is pure bliss.

He took time to process again "-hmad you okay?" "oh my God!" everything is dizzy and loud

bump bump Ba dump

His mind clears enough to see Utsman fretting over Ahmad... who has a bloody arm, Tima's shock expression and..

He blinked when Auliya got in front of his face.. her face looks like one of Petir's shirts..

"-WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?"

what is wrong with him?

Everything is so focused but blurred together.

He can hear Ahmad's sobs and pant, his heartbeat, but he can't even make out what Auliya is saying in front of him.

He can feel the vibrations of distant footsteps, but he cam't feel his body.

Everything feels overwhelming and nothing at all.

'My board'

his board... all he needs is his board. He turns away from Auliya, no point if he can't even understand her. Tima's distress face meant absolutely nothing to him as she reaches to take hold of his board. No. Not again.

There was a split second of clarity as he sees the fear in Tima's eyes. His fist change direction.

'just take your board and get out of here' echos in his head. over, and over, and over again.

He didn't feel his hands push Tima to snatch his board back, he does feel the punch that connects with his face.

"DON'T HURT MY SISTER-"

He does feel the rough floor. The freezing cold locker thats burning through his shirt, his own blood mixing with Ahmad's. The board thats crushing his chest

He was fully concious when he hit Utsman back. He was fully concious when Auliya was in front of him again. This time, this time some of the words connect

"What are you, some kind of animal!?" He feels like a cornered one

"What kind of weirdo FREAK bites someone?!" freak freak freak

Her eyes might be brown and green but right now? right now it was glinting with murderous red.

She drew near and the cold locker behind him can do nothing but BURN

"SAY SOMETHING!!"

his head is screaming in the waves of silence. Loud. Loud. LOUD

His last sight was a hand ready to strike. Closing his eyes tight, only one thought crosses his mind; Let darkness be kinder than the blinding light

...

ba dump

ba dump...

...

He felt... nothing.

With uneven breaths and a drumming heart, he opens his eyes.

A shadow looms over him, casting him in soft darkness.

mind reeling from all that happened, he didn't even register when the figure hugged him. Covering his face from the world. His shoulder tenses.. and yet. Although fear struck him again, this time, this time there was no burning. He knew immediately who this is.

"...daun" and when the hug tighten at his soft words ("you're ok Sunflower"), he knew he was safe. He knew when he peaked and saw Maya with a teacher, that he can escape

For the world was too dizzy for his mind to comprehend, everything blurred together in a harmonical voice and colors

Abang is here. "Daun"

Ok damn, ngl i want to know what happened to those kids afterwards, like i wonder what happened once they understood and stuff like i also want to know bout more of the comfort between daun and cahaya

Pretty panicky yet nice and sweet fic from how cahaya says daun's name

Buncha meltdowns huh

Those kids dont understand and mean well, in their eyes, haya is the violent bully or smth but its not especially from his perspective and im glad Daun was there for him to stop this from escalating further

#submission #maiprim moot #maiprim scenarios #bbb age bracket au #boboiboy #i didnt see this immediately😅#i absolutely love how it continued and how stressful it became from the point the kids did not understand what cahaya's writing said #and things escalated further

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dareactions · 2 years ago

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I just have a few requests x3

How about the companions react to a Young!Inquisitor reacting to solas's betrayal by saying this: "I dont know why I was surpprised, everyone I have ever loved has either left me,died,betrayed me somehow,or given me copious amounts of trauma. I'm kinda numb to it all at this point" and they stop hiding their emotions and they just look....so old? Like almost broken old?

I return just to hit y'all w the angst hammer im so sorry. (I'm not <3)

Solas goes first bcs he is a big meanie and should feel bad for hurting poor young!inquisitor smh

Solas: It's not the answer he expects or the response he wants. There's no doubt that he knew from the beginning that he'd hurt them, that no matter what happened they would look at him as if he'd lit their entire life on fire and watched it burn down but not once had he even considered that they'd look so- aged. There's a horrifyingly burning feeling in his chest and he wants to grab their shoulders and beg for them to be angry, kick, scream- do anything a normal person would. But instead, they're just staring at him so exhausted and for once Solas feels dread.

Cassandra: Her first initial feeling, is anger. Cassandra always responds to things with that first burst of fiery rage and need for justice, but once that passes it's just the need to protect. She finally understands her own brother, a bit. Cassandra helps in the only ways she knows, holding the Inquisitor until they finally let themself cry, and after that, she makes it her own personal life goal to cave in the skull of anyone who ever makes them make that expression again. She considers for just a moment if maybe she is part of the problem (she knows she is, she remembers the first time they met in that cell), but she can't bring herself to think about it.

Blackwall: He knows he is part of the problem, of that long list of people who have lied and turned tail when it came down to it. And fuck if he doesn't feel bad. Blackwall hates to admit that he is an expert in self-pity but he really can't help the wave of self-hatred that seeing the Inquisitor like that brings. He has never seen someone young seem so old but then he remembers young soldiers, young mages, and templars all with that same dead look in their eyes. Blackwall turns away, he might make them small trinkets and keep an eye on them but he is nowhere near brave enough to look them in the face for nearly a week after that.

Dorian: So, he is adopting them- everyone shut up, you don't get to pick. It's his younger sibling now and as their new legal guardian, he would want everyone to back the fuck off. Dorian is the most likely I think to fall into the attempts of regaining normalcy for the Inquisitor. He treats them the same, doesn't matter what horrifying piece of information they may have dropped he keeps the same level of jest and care between them. But he is more keen-eyed on making sure nobody gets too close, that nobody says something that no teenager or child should year. Nothing is more horrifying than a Pavus with protective habits, let me tell you that much.

Sera: I love Sera, but she is fucking horrid with the emotional support and she knows it. Sera will step around like she is walking on glass shards, get annoyed and say something bordering on insensitive and then realize what she has done- and try her best to mend things. Sera forgot their age, she said and had them help with things that maybe a child shouldn't deal with but no child in Ferelden isn't broken a little bit, so she isn't entirely sure how to navigate someone so numb to it all. Sera of course suggests crime, that always makes her feel better and it'll make them feel better for sure.

Iron Bull: See, the Inquisitor is a member of the Bull's Chargers. That means they're family and they're looking so fucking miserable and sad right now that it just means that he kicks into that need to protect. Bull knows better than to lean onto his past mistakes and regrets, think about everything he could've done better at this point to protect them. He just is more weary, more aware of their age- he does his best to keep some semblance of childhood in their life even if its far too late. And if things get too hard he pats their shoulder, leans down and reminds them 'horns pointed up, chin high' because nobody can take them down and if they are too numb to go on then he'll just have to re-ignite their flame.

Varric: Oh, he has seen that look before. Hawke carried it like a horrifying shadow of dread after their mom, after everything. He remembers the glazed over look, the empty tone of voice and the exhaustion. The way nothing is hidden on their face and he hates it. A part of Varric had promised himself to not let it get to this point, and he failed miserably. Varric never saw himself as much of a parental figure but somehow he falls into one pretty easily after that reveal, he is far less willing to let things slide. Varric is the first to admit he will put a bolt through Solas throat if he sees him again though.

Vivienne: She sees that expression, hears those words and she sees red. If you've ever seen this woman mad you've never seen her mad like this and it's like watching a mother lion with its cub. It's almost laughable when people try to get too close to do something after this, it's as if the Inquisitor has their own personal mom to freeze people at will now. She can't undo that hurt, she knows she can't, but she sure as hell can help them in the future.

Cole: Oh this poor lad, he feels that pain into his very core and it makes him feel like he will shatter and break himself. Cole is hovering, but not in the way that Cass of Vivienne is- he hovers in a surprisingly...helpful way. Cole whispers words of comfort, reminds them of the good and is well aware of when to be quiet. Sometimes he can help, not with everything, but this he can help with and he does so the only way he knows- words of truth and letting the Inquisitor wear his hat and hug him, obviously.

#its my comeback tour #cole #dragon age writing #dragon age inquisiton #cassandra pentaghast #vivienne de fer #blackwall #solas #iron bull #the iron bull #sera #dorian pavus #young!inquisitor #dragon age reacts

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yandereaffections · 2 years ago

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Hi from Ireland, congrats on hitting 12,000 followers you deserve it. Can I ask for m, k, a, l, u and y for Sebastian Michaelis if that's alright?

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

His physical body does tend to be drastically different when he shows you his true colors of course, personality wise his true colors are quite mismatched to how the butler usually acts though not in the ways you might think. Sebastian let's his perfect butler aesthetic falter when he's alone with you, less of a gentleman and more greedy, prideful as a demon typically is. He lets you be reminded he is not the human you met him as, Sebastian's full of so much more than a human is

While your demon isn't very forceful you can tell when he has to have you, red eyes showing the need to at the very least hold you, inhale the very scent of his mate, maybe even get a taste of them if they don't push away him and his temptations. The moment you two return back into a public area Sebastians pulled back together his perfect facade, don't worry he'll always have a few samples of his desire for you to show when he finds his kitten without anyone else around his radius

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Amongst the usual moments of adoration and smite you'll get his typical cocky comments and jokes, trying to impress or get a reaction out of his darling during the small amount of time he has with them until responsibilities of the head Phantomhive butler calls for his attention

Late nights and early mornings is where the hours seem to slow down for him in the best ways, even if you two aren't a romantic or sexual couple in anyway Sebastian still can appreciate the dead of the night where he's under the same covers as you, so still it's almost as if he wasn't there to begin with while he basks in your presence. The demon wants to hear your thoughts and opinions on anything he might bring up in the early mornings before the sun rises, whether it be on the selection of breakfast he has prepared or on the latest issues that have occurred in the Phantomhive manor, your voice itself is what consumes the back of his mind. Waiting the perfect moment simply to see what you'll sound like when sneaking a kiss from his dearest, he craves and savors it

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

When Sebastian doesn't have a private space to pull you into a gentle yet obsessive embrace where he lets his hands trace over each curve his hands can reach then he'll simply rely on his usual acts of service to express the fondness he has found himself pent up with, ensuring you are well feed without even the slightest displeasure to worry about

In regards of intensity, it can fluctuate depending on how long Sebastian has left his feelings to build up, possibly from being taken alongside his young master into the city or elsewhere leaving you behind to take care of the manor with the four others, and from his nearing heat where he can't help from needing your touch and warmth against him. Sebastian makes sure you'll never be drowned in his love, that doesn't keep it from flooding and overwhelming you on special occasions, simply cause he enjoys the sight of you so tenderly loved you just can't take it

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

It'll start off as the usual way he treats those he wants something from, discreet flirtations, simple touches that seem to last just a second too long and constant run ins with him during moments where you're anything but composed. Though his behavior changes as the demon realizes that this attraction isn't like anything he's ever felt for a human before, not a need to gain information from them or drive them to ruin as an order from his young lord, it's entirely new to him.

Might be a tad bit confusing as he suddenly begins respecting your space, getting you to speak on the topics that interest you when he gets spare time with you and over all ensuring you're left wondering more about the strange butler especially after treating you in such a suggestive way in the beginning.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

That's the thing with being a monster who has lived centuries upon centuries both in the human world and his own realm, things that would worry most humans doesn't spark a single fear in his core cause he knows he's more than all of this. Sebastian can find you with scent alone no matter how many miles you might've found yourself away from him, bring you back home the same day just in time for him to complete a splendid meal for your dinner that evening whilst ensuring the manor is in top condition with not a single layer of dust to be seen

Sebastian is capable of so much more than a human can ever comprehend, you can think of escaping, leaving for personal opportunity or something else of the sort and he can simply let you without worry than he'll pin you down again to have the taste of your lips once more no matter the distance that was once between you.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

He tends not to let it run on too long if possible but this little escapade between you two can last for years, though it doesn't mean Sebastian hasn't managed to get you in his possession once or twice, all his passion that has been built up being relieved with the personal company of his mate despite them not being his just yet, as much as it pains Sebastian he'll always let you go back to how things were as if he didn't just have you pressed against him.

Usually the longer he waits is due to some outside force that he can't eliminate due to the young master's demands, maybe your married status to a particular man who is very important to an ongoing mission or the overall funtom company keeps Sebastian from swaying you off your feet as often as he'd like. Of course such a obstacle won't stop the butler in his tracks completely, he'll claim you despite the wedding ring on your finger from the periodic visits he treats you to

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strelles-universe · 2 years ago

Note

ooo, what is the Twice Shy AU about? And who is Kitetalon?

Basically, Longtail accidentally kills Rusty and his sister (Ahasra/Kite) finds out and is agitated and grieving. She resolves to tear down the clans and avenge her brother even as ghost!Rusty argues with her.

She's irritable and standoffish but powerful so when Tigerclaw starts doing shit, she's not quite as willing to investigate until she overhears Ravenpaw - who she is reluctant to admit she's slightly fond of - telling Sandpaw that Tigerclaw killed Redtail. She resolves to keep an eye on them and rescues Ravenpaw after he was mauled pretty badly by Tigerclaw and becomes closer to a frightened and nervous Sandpaw.

Graystrpe never falls for Silverstream because silvery mollies who can beat his ass is his type and Kite is that to a T and he spends that entire arc mooning after her. Kitetalon does however save Whiteclaw's life at the gorge which makes Leopardshine slightly inclined to respect her.

By Forest of Secrets, ThunderClan has grown on her and even though she still treats him cooly she can see that Longtail didn't mean to kill her brother. Her goal is no longer to destroy the clans but rather, the code that let all of this happen. So she kicks Tigerclaw's ass and is made deputy the same night under Bluestar who btw was her mentor this whole time but has been equally cold and distant because she thinks that if she doesn't show how fond of Kite she is, then StarClan can't take her away.

At some point Leopardshine falls in love with her albeit she casually ignores this for a decent amount of time while Leopardshine struggles with her feelings for a ThunderClan molly until Silverstream tells her that she should do what makes her happy. Kitetalon has little regard for the code so she tolerates both Leopardshine and Graystripe as mates.

When Bluestar's mind dissolves, Kite fully takes over leadership duties and starts making subtle but frequent changes to how the clan is run, slowly getting them to primed for her to bring up the warrior code. Even when Bluestar starts recovering, she realizes the clan is no longer what she knew it to be is slightly worried she allowed something worse than Tigerclaw to happen to it but is at this point, resigned to it.

Kite is accepting pretty much any loner or rogue who wants to join the clan which agitates her clanmates while her loyalists support her. The shift into a more positive light when Kite kicks out a former rogue who was a complete asshole and counterproductive to the well-being of the clan. She informs them that the warrior code was a good code for a long time but now it's time for them to develop their own code of conduct - and the first rule is that all who wish to join may, but those who prove to want harm upon the clan are cast out.

Kitetalon eventually becomes Kitestar of ThunderClan and declares war on ShadowClan after Tigerstar's actions lead to Bluestar's death. Tigerstar tries to create TigerClan as a result but many defect to ThunderClan so he gets BloodClan as back-up. When Scourge kills Tigerclaw, she basically tells him he can have what's left of ShadowClan and decides to go home.

Kitetalon became the fire of the prophecy but she was a simmering, quiet one like natural has until you light a match.

There are 4 Clans at Fourtrees - ThunderClan, RiverClan, WindClan and BloodClan.

Kitetalon takes Scourge to get his nine lives and also appoints a medic in his camp. Over time, Scourge actually simmers down with Tigerclaw dead and tho he was still harsh until the say he died, he wasn't cruel.

Kite spends the rest of her life restructuring ThunderClan until they have no intentions of going back to the old system and begin to subtly influence the other clans to make changes themselves.

#answering asks #squirrelflight67 #not strelles related #twice shy au #this au will probably never be written out but it's fun to imagine things from their world #no one knows who was angrier the day Kitetalon was named deputy - Kite or Bluestar #admittedly I'm more focused on my other au The Shadows in the Mirror

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kiragecko · 1 year ago

Text

Things to make this safer (specifically focused on skills that might be weak in autistic and ADHD people)

Especially at the beginning, try to only take up 'your percentage' of the conversation:

Imagine that everyone in the group 'owns' a percentage of the group's time. In a larger group, the time is divided into smaller pieces; in a smaller group, you get more time. Try to keep the length of your comments similar to what the rest of the group is doing, and stay within the amount of time that is 'yours'.

Note: not everyone will follow this rule.There are a LOT of people out there that will monopolize a group. You have to accept that people won't treat you fairly, and this isn't about them. It's about the other people in the conversation, and how you want them to see you positively.

Including quiet people:

There will also be people who don't 'use up' their time. If you can read body language enough to recognize discomfort, feel free to ask them their opinion about something. If they seem to appreciate the attention, keep making spaces for them like that. But recognize that some people DON'T WANT attention. They may enjoy quietly listening to the group. They may be tired, or overwhelmed, and not want the stress of talking. So don't push people if they seem uncomfortable.

If someone is monopolizing the conversation and it's bothering you:

In the next free space, ask someone else in the conversation a question related to the topic. Use their name (so it's obvious the question is directed ONLY at them). Try to choose someone who has said at least a few things already, because shy people are more likely to get talked over by the monopolizer, and that doesn't help anyone. Don't try to bring your own comments in immediately, because it's easy to get sucked into a back and forth with the person talking too much and end up monopolizing the conversation together.

Staying on topic:

This is very difficult, because 'the topic' is often something very unexpected. Here is my breakdown of the types of things a conversation can be centred around - Subject, Emotion, or Energy:

Subject is the clearest topic. It's a specific type of information: university stories, politics, pets, a specific book, etc. To keep on topic, you need to talk about the same type of information. However, most conversations SEEM to be about a subject, but actually aren't.

Emotion is the most frequent topic, in my experience. While there may be a subject, staying on topic means matching the feelings of the other conversationalists. So if everyone is talking about pets, you need to see if they're talking about how much they love their pets, or how frustrating it is to visit someone with 4 cats when you're allergic to dander. Then you match the feeling. Straying slightly off the topic is fine. Talking about going to the zoo and how cute the wildcats are is usually acceptable to pet lovers. Or how your niece did exactly the same thing as the dog in the previous person's story, and it was SO CUTE. But don't bring in how annoying your brother's dog is - that doesn't match.

Energy is probably the most complicated topic to match on purpose. It's the amount of passion and intensity a subject has. If the conversation seems to be constantly switching subjects with no pattern, it's probably focused on energy. Conversations about politics or social justice are also often emotion or energy conversations in disguise. It can be VERY hard to join successfully, because the majority of the group will have to agree that your statement IS equally exciting/important to everything else. I don't usually join energy-based conversations with strangers. I'm passionate about too much, and people not agreeing feels AWFUL.

Special interests are dangerous when interacting with casual acquaintances:

A lot of neurodivergent people find their special interests to be black holes - they can't get out once they fall in. With closer friends, this can be okay. Especially blunt ones who are comfortable telling you to stop when it's their turn. Especially when it's a one-on-one conversation. But in a larger group, where you don't know people well, special interests make it REALLY hard to keep to your percentage of the conversation, or stay on topic. If your goal is building relationships, I suggest avoiding certain subjects until you know the people better. Not to hide who you are. But so that they can get comfortable enough to both interrupt you if it gets overwhelming AND care about you enough to want to learn about this subject you have so much energy for.

There still are people who act like it's 3rd grade:

But there aren't as many. Try to go into every conversation expecting people to be nice, but also respect the part of you that's trying to protect you. It's probably a bit paranoid, if you've had a lot of bad experiences, so don't always do what it says. But listen to it. Eventually, you'll learn how to recognize when it knows what it's talking about.

So at a party it is socially acceptable to just silently join a circle of people talking and contribute to the conversation when you feel like it as if you already know everyone in the circle, btw.

#some people need to program their own social skills #other people come with them preinstalled #others had them corrupted when they got damaged #this is for the programmers #neurodivergence #social skills

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babyybitchhh · 4 years ago

Text

Ogun x Reader 18+

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 8,375

Warnings: established relationship, cunnilingus, brief mention of breeding/pregnancy implication, piv sex, creampie

A/N: I really did not think I'd finish this and yet, months later, here we are. I said I wanted to do Ogun's hair for him so that is exactly what I did. 😤 A LOT of research went into the first half of this fic, I can't even tell you how many braiding videos I watched or how many haircare blurbs I read through, so if my ignorance shows I really do apologize. I can barely do my own hair let alone someone else's and I put in a lot leg work for about 5 paragraphs of relevant information. lol Best boy deserves it though, so please enjoy!

♥♥♥♥

The quiet drone of the TV against the far wall was the only source of noise in the small apartment and neither of you were paying any attention to it. Hadn’t been for the last few hours, but that was how most wash days went. The background chatter was superfluous at best when you had all of your attention zeroed in on your boyfriend's hair and Ogun was pleasantly dozing at your feet, lost in his own little world of pampered bliss.

It did, however, serve its purpose in helping you better keep track of the time. If left to your own thoughts, you would have all too easily slipped into the same comfortable lull as him and forgotten about everything else you had to do. Like think about food, for example.

Briefly glancing up at the sound of cheesy sitcom music, you mentally check off another half hour. It was starting to get late which meant he’d probably be starving by the time you were done and that wouldn’t exactly come as a surprise given you’d been at this for the better part of the day. All that hard earned muscle mass of his certainly wasn’t going to maintain itself.

And, now that you were thinking about it, you were starting to notice the creeping pang of hunger in the back of your mind, buzzing faintly like an incessant afterthought.

Drawing a breath, you start to ask if he’s in the mood for anything in particular but Ogun manages to beat you to it.

“What should we do for dinner?”

You smile to yourself, fingers deftly moving through his hair with practiced ease -- under, scoop, under, repeat -- while you give that question some thought. Surely there was something you could whip up with what you had on hand in the kitchen. The real question, however, was what.

Doing a quick mental checklist of your cupboards, you rapidly narrow down your options. A fast and easy pasta dish was out of the question without the sauce or any ingredients to make it with. No meat for hamburgers. There was still some salad mix in the fridge but he needed something far more substantial than that. Damn. You should probably go shopping soon.

“Hmm,” Gently tilting Ogun’s head forward, you pick back up on the half finished braid you were working on. He was almost done, with only two rows left to go. The argan oil and shea products you’d put in his hair left your fingertips feeling buttery smooth and soft, their lingering smell as warm as it was soothing. It permeated the air in the living room, enclosing you both in your own little bubble for two and making for an altogether pleasantly relaxing Sunday afternoon.

“Let’s see …” You murmur at length. “I could probably make a stir fry with some vegetables and shrimp. How’s that sound?”

“As much as I love your cooking,” He shifts on the floor and glances over his shoulder, forcing you to pause what your fingers are doing. “I was thinking we could order in tonight. My treat.”

Your smile grows even when you try to ignore the unmistakable flutter in your chest. “Oh? And what’s the occasion?”

“There isn’t one.” His mouth curls up, mirroring yours. “But if you need an excuse, consider it thanks for doing my hair.”

“That’s sweet of you, but I’m not finished yet.” Placing a hand atop his head, you pointedly turn him around straight again and Ogun laughs, very softly, when you release him so you can get back to work.

You enjoyed getting to do this for him and the fact you liked playing with his hair was no secret either. It was wild and thick, very close to being untamable, but it was also incredibly healthy -- something you would have all too happily taken credit for if it hadn’t been in the same enviable condition as when you’d first met him. That he trusted you enough to let you do this was, perhaps, more intimate than anything else you’d ever done together, and with a few more twists you put the finishing touches on the braid.

Letting it hang next to the others, you direct him to lean back so that you can easily reach the front of his hairline again. He acquiesces without a fuss and sinks into the couch, letting the back of his head settle comfortably in your lap. Ogun’s shoulders brush your knees when you hunch closer with a pink rat tail comb in hand and you’re acutely aware of him watching you as you begin sectioning out the next row. You start to smile again, even though you try not to.

“What?”

“I’m still waiting on an answer.”

You shoot him a quick look.

Golden eyes gleam back at you, reflecting endearment and humor alike, and you quickly focus in on his blown out, fluffy hair again before he can successfully distract you. “I don’t know. You pick.”

“Nope.” He hums goodnaturedly. “That’s not how this works. You can’t just push it back on me when I asked you for a reason. Tell me what you want.”

“I really don’t know - hey!” You squawk when he gives the back of your calf a sharp pinch in retaliation for being so uncooperative and you squirm, giggling. “Don’t do that! I’m honestly not sure what I’m in the mood for.”

“Then think about it.”

“I am.” You intone, gently pushing Ogun’s head forward just enough to get at the crown of his head. Relative silence claims the room once more while you consider an almost endless list of potential choices and finish up the second to last braid. Thankfully without any more pinching attacks on his end. He was going to look so nice when you were done.

“What about a pizza?” You suggest at last.

“I’m game.” He murmurs, slouching to the side so he can rest his temple against the plush cushion of your leg. It gives you the perfect angle to attack the final strip from and you get to work weaving coarse strands into his preferred fashion, your fingers moving quickly but efficiently. You’d practiced tirelessly just to ensure he wouldn’t have to go to someone else for this without skimping on the finished product's quality and it certainly showed.

A few moments later, the task is complete.

Grabbing an elastic band, you gather Ogun’s styled hair into a neat little ponytail and tie it off at the back of his head. You finish up by running your fingertips across one shaved side of his scalp, affectionately feeling out the new growth before deciding he can go another week or two until you have to bring out the clippers again.

“Alright. You’re all done.”

Lifting a hand to feel over his hair, he twists around and peers up at you with an expectant grin. “How do I look?”

“Like the most handsome man in the world.”

Ogun positively beams. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Leaning close, you press a brief kiss to his smiling mouth. “What sort of pizza do you --”

He cuts you off when he suddenly pushes up on his knees and catches your lips again.

Your eyes go big when broad hands find the meat of your thighs and gently squeeze them while he kisses you much more impassionedly than you’d kissed him. A sound of surprise rises in the back of your throat but he quickly swallows it, making your heart race.

Heaving a quiet sigh through your nose, you lean into the gesture and meet him halfway, eagerly kissing him back.

Grinning knowingly, Ogun tilts his head and slots his mouth more securely over yours to deepen the exchange. You find yourself slowly melting against him and you bring your hands up to grab onto his shoulders. God, he was unfairly good at this. Not that you were complaining, but a polite segue from one topic to the next would have been appreciated. You’d been thinking about dinner, what sort of toppings you wanted on your pizza, and now you were thinking about …

You groan, very softly, when his palms drag up along your sides, bunching the cotton of your t-shirt in the process. It allows for the briefest skin on skin contact and an eruption of goosebumps spreads across your body, as anticipatory as they were impatient.

Lips parting, you grant him access and Ogun jumps at the chance, eagerly sweeping his tongue into your mouth to lav yours with warm, wet attention. The smooth, flickering strokes he graces your palette with inspires a flood of molten heat in your gut that leaves you wanting more. Always more. It was never enough where he was concerned - and you slide one of your hands higher still to tenderly cradle the curve of his skull.

Much to your whining disappointment, however, he pulls back a moment later to give you some space and you whimper at the loss.

“Ogun …”

“Shh. I’m right here, baby.” He whispers, leaning back in to press a quick peck to your lips before doing the same to the corner of your mouth.

It’s not enough to pacify you though and you loop both arms around his neck, trying to pull him back in again. He obliges with an affectionate nuzzle, pressing close to settle against your lap and pin you to the back of the couch under his sturdy weight.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?”

You pull your mouth in an imploring pout. “I’d like for you to finish what you started.”

He laughs, sweet and boyish as he pulls back to fix you with a big grin. “Oh? And have I ever left you wanting?”

“No, but I’d hate for you to start now.” You sound a little whiny. Needy.

Another quiet laugh and Ogun comes in to kiss you again, much more sedately this time. His soft lips mold seamlessly to yours, working against your mouth at just the right speed, with the right amount of pressure to steal the air from your lungs.

You let loose a soft moan as you arch underneath him and push your chests together, basking in the fleeting contact despite how unsatisfying it is. What you really want is to have his body working over yours without the impediment of bothersome clothes in the way. To feel the chorded steel muscle he’d worked so hard to build flexing and driving into you.

A shudder ripples through you when the thrumming desire that wells inside slithers out from between your legs to ignite the rest of your body in heated flame. An all powerful compulsion which you wouldn’t have fought even if you could.

His mouth still working in tandem with yours, Ogun gives your waist a possessive squeeze and it sends a fresh wave of sharp arousal racing down your spine. You whimper, pushing up into him a little harder, more fervently, as you clutch at his shoulders. The need to have him laid out on top of you has taken over your higher functioning mind, all thoughts of pizza long gone out the window as the velvety push and pull of his mouth draws you further under his spell.

Willingly, you surrender to the exigent summons and curl your legs up around his narrow hips to tug him even closer, urging him into action.

A hot puff of air fans across your face when he abruptly disengages from the kiss, moving to press his lips against the apple of your cheek, your jaw. There’s a noticeable haste in his actions now and you turn your head to give him better access, exposing the vulnerable line of your throat to his seeking mouth.

Ogun wastes no time and immediately swoops in, pecking his way down the column of your neck with an occasional love bite here or there for good measure. Each one seemed to make your toes curl that much tighter to the point where you could hardly stand it anymore.

“You play dirty …” You mumble, lightly running your nails across his nape.

“Mm, how so?” He sounds distracted and preoccupied, too busy mouthing at your pulse to pay it any mind.

“You told me to decide on dinner …” You trail off when he latches onto the juncture of your neck and shoulder, immediately succumbing to the tantalizing suction Ogun applies with his lips. You let out a soft, faltering groan, brows furrowing in pleasure when it makes the simmering heat in your gut double and then triple as teeth sink into delicate skin.

Shuddering, you deliberately wrack your brain in an attempt to finish your train of thought but that proves much more of a struggle than you’d been prepared for.

“But … nngh, but now all I want is you …”

He comes up at your somewhat dreamy admittance, a mischievous look camping out on his face even as big hands push at the hem of your shirt. “Oh yeah? Anything you want in particular, sweetheart?”

Lifting your gaze, you peer up at Ogun from just a scant few inches away. The shallow rise and fall of your chest has no doubt clued him in that he’s got you all worked up now but you aren’t exactly trying to hide it. He already knew just how weak you were for him, knew precisely how well your body always responded to his advances, so there really wasn’t any point in pretending otherwise.

You were powerless against his undeniable charm and he seemed to get just as much enjoyment out of that as you did. And looking at him now you think, not for the first time, that you just might be the luckiest girl in the world.

“Let’s start with that talented mouth.” You murmur, reaching out to take his smooth jaw in hand and pull him, grinning, into another kiss.

Noising quietly against your mouth, he leans further into you until it feels like you’re being pleasantly crushed under the hard, muscular weight of his frame. It only serves to get you even more riled up, now well and truly desperate to feel his bare skin flush against yours as you roll your hips forward and drag your clenching pussy across the front of his pants.

Lips parting on a heady groan, he returns the favor by slowly thrusting his pelvis forward so you can feel the stiff outline of his cock caressing your clothed slit. You keen at the sensation and cant your hips into the pressure, the two of you gradually picking up a steady, unhurried rhythm together that damn near drives you wild.

Hands staying busy while he sedately humps you, Ogun patiently works your shirt up higher and higher until it’s bunched under your armpits. Reaching around for the clasp of your bra, he gives it one good tug and the satiny soft material loosens around your shoulders with a near silent slither. Bringing his hands to the front again, he shoves the cups up out of the way before letting them descend on soft, pliant breasts that seem to fit just right in the curve of his worn palms. Giving them both a gentle squeeze, he kneads your chest until you groan and tip your head back, breaking apart from the kiss in favor of sighing up at the ceiling.

He takes that opportunity to dip his face close and press an open mouthed kiss to the center of your sternum while he carefully squeezes your tits in a pinching grip. It makes you shudder, wishing you could clench your thighs and ease the growing ache there, but that’s impossible when he’s slotted between them like this. You have no choice but to endure the thrumming tension and you squirm underneath him, needily bucking up to meet the next thrust of his hips with a frustrated little groan.

“Ogun,” You gasp, letting your fingers scrabble to grab hold of his black t-shirt and tug on it. “I need you. Now.”

Bringing his head up, Ogun allows himself a moment to drink in the wanton expression on your face while he cups his hands around your breasts almost reverently. “How do you need me, baby?” He mumbles, letting his thumbs brush over your stiff nipples in a feather light caress. “What do you need?”

“Your mouth …” You whine, practically choking on it.

“Where do you need my mouth, huh? Tell me.”

“On my pussy.” It’s more a plea than a statement and you shake for him even as the words leave your mouth.

Ogun shifts against you and bends down, mouth opening wide over the pebbled peak of your breast. You watch on, mesmerized, when the pink of his tongue darts out to lap at the fleshy bud before sealing his lips around it and suckling. Your eyes slip shut as you arch, pushing your chest up to meet him while your fingers cling to the cotton of his shirt. Ogun doesn’t linger long though and he soon comes up off the first with a dull pop before catching your other nipple between his lips.

Briefly worrying it, he slides his hand forward to tweak the spit lathered bud between thumb and forefinger, making you outright seethe. You give up on getting his top off with an impatient little huff and bring your hands down to grasp at his arms instead. The firm, wiry muscle under his skin offers little give no matter how hard you squeeze or dig your nails in, and he remains ever unperturbed, casually sucking the tip of your breast to stiff, throbbing attention.

“Please, Ogun …”

With a faint hum, he comes up off your chest and presses a quick peck to the puckered nipple. “I know, baby. I know.” Moving back to the first nipple, he kisses that one too. “Just be patient, alright? You know you don’t have to beg me to go down on you …”

You groan at the velvety suggestion and tuck your chin down to pin him with an imploring look. Ogun offers you a lopsided grin in return, pinching both your nipples between his fingers and carefully tweaking the sensitive flesh until you outright gasp. You feel like you’re running on autopilot now as you reach up to sandwich his face between your palms and pull him into yet another kiss, lips crashing together with an intensity that makes your pussy flutter.

His mouth parts against yours, opening wide as if to swallow you whole, and all the while he keeps plucking at your tits until they’re aching almost as much as your neglected cunt. You couldn’t take it anymore ...

Tightening your legs around Ogun’s waist, you dig your heels into the small of his back and draw him right up against you so you can feel the hard weight of his cock digging into the spot where you need him most. A frazzled, high strung wail claws its way up the back of your throat as you jut your pelvis up and rub yourself against that thick, pulsing heat in search of some relief but very little is forthcoming like this.

He pulls back at the sudden friction thoufg and issues a faltering groan that seems to echo off the walls for as quiet as it is. “Shit … you really want it that bad, baby?”

“It’s your fault …”

“I know, I know.” Bending close, Ogun presses a hard peck to the center of your chest. “And I’ll take responsibility for that, don’t you worry.”

Lower he trails, slowly kissing his way down your fluttering stomach as his hands come around to unbutton your shorts. The zipper quickly follows suit and then he’s tugging them down your thighs while you eagerly twist to help get you undressed just that much quicker.

Thoughtlessly tossing them aside, Ogun reaches for your panties next but he’s much more subdued in removing these. One torturous fraction at a time, he carefully pries the thin cotton away until they’re low enough to expose your puffy slit to the air. He lets out an appreciative noise of approval when he sees the sticky mess you’ve made along the seam and your heart pounds in your ears as you draw your legs up so he can slip the dainty cotton the rest of the way off.

He discards them somewhere on the floor, probably right alongside your shorts, before palming your bent knees. Gently, Ogun eases them apart so he can peer down at your sticky cunt with an unconcealed expression of hunger.

“Look at you, baby. Just look at this pretty pussy, already so wet for me.”

Smoothing big hands up along your bare thighs, he bends close and presses his mouth to the apex of your mound in a surprisingly chaste but hungry kiss. Digging your fingers into the couch cushions, you enticingly wiggle your hips at him and gold eyes flash at you from between your legs, amusement and something much more dark shining within them.

You feel his lips eagerly curl against you then, and he shuffles closer to the couch so that he’s hunched directly over your prone body. Hooking long fingers under one of your legs, he hauls it up and over his shoulder before repeating the process on the other side. Grabbing big, grasping handfuls of your hips, he uses his hold on you to drag your lower body just to the edge of the seat, making you squeak at suddenly finding yourself completely vulnerable and laid bare. Your pussy clenches tight in anticipation though and you tremble, drawing a steadying breath when he pecks at the soft swell of your inner thigh, warm breath puffing against your skin.

There was no denying that he had you completely at his mercy like this and you would have been lying through your teeth if you said that didn’t excite you.

“Comfortable?”

At your nod, Ogun leans forward just enough to bend your legs towards your chest and fold you against the top of the couch. He settles on his knees and dips his head down, mouth parting so his tongue can take a quick swipe from the bottom of your gushing cunt up to the top. The sight of it has you groaning for him, your vision swimming as you force yourself to keep watching.

That proves exceedingly difficult when he presses in close, making the meat of your pussy lips squish and mold against his face. Slowly kissing at you to work them open with his mouth, he flicks his attention up to regard your face and you practically vibrate on the cushions. Another swipe of his tongue hits its mark, wetly knocking your clit, and you let loose a seething mewl.

“O - ohh! Yeah …”

Ogun’s fingers dig into your twitching hips to keep them spread while he takes his time slowly swirling around that sensitive pleasure button. He starts at a wide breadth and then gradually works his tongue in tighter and tighter circles until he’s finally grinding it into oblivion. The soft, gooey friction of his mouth is enough to have you wheezing in pleasure as sweat beads, unnoticed, along your lower back and you arch, making your tits jiggle with the motion.

“Right there … don’t stop!”

Issuing a low sound of agreement, Ogun opens his jaw wider and drags his tongue straight up through your slick, juicy folds. You can feel every little thing - every nerve ending and every meaty bit of flesh that tries to cling to the textured muscle and your legs jerk at the sensation.

Tossing your head back against the couch, you blindly reach down to grasp his knuckles in a death grip. “Ah, haah … feels good ...”

In lieu of a proper response, he tilts his head and attacks your thrumming clit from a different angle. He’s relentless, mercilessly battering that delicate little pearl back and forth with such fervor that it leaves you quaking under his attention, struggling just to breathe. You’re not sure how much more of this you can stand, the threat of tipping over the edge before you can even fully enjoy it looking like a very real possibility now, but then Ogun seals his mouth around the fleshy nub and sucks.

Hard.

“Oh!” You choke on a haggard, stuttering gasp of pleasure, lurching underneath him.

Confidently humming, he comes up off you with a dull pop and a sticky breath of air. “Looks like you’re already getting close.” Ogun murmurs, sounding really quite smug about that.

Never one to leave you hanging though, he crowds one of his hands between your legs and presses blunt fingers into your slit. Finding your throbbing clit again, Ogun starts to rub it in fast strokes made smooth by the viscous mix of saliva and arousal that absolutely coats your pussy and this time you practically shriek.

“Yes! Yes, I’m getting close! … nngghh … please, please, pleeease! Ogun, please!”

But he refuses to let up on your poor little cunt just yet. “Please what, baby?”

You twist, thighs flexing and going ramrod stiff around his head. Your vision was starting to blur around the edges, reflexive tears pricking at your eyes. It’s hard just to think straight let alone form a semi coherent sentence when he’s relentlessly rubbing your clit with roughly calloused fingertips like that, the friction almost too much to bear and quickly riding the line of overstimulation. You couldn’t handle much more of it.

“Pl - please put your dick in me! Please! I wanna’ come on your cock, Ogun! I’m buh - aaah - ah! - begging!”

A low, rumbling groan rises up in his chest but, still, he doesn’t stop. “I thought you wanted to come on my mouth?”

“I - I changed my mind!”

He grunts, deep and primal in his acknowledgement, and the sound races straight to your throbbing cunt.

You respond with a broken groan, only to nearly come right up off the couch when he withdraws his fingers and replaces them with his mouth. Supple lips part and work you open again so he can worm his tongue into the crease of your body. He delivers a series of taunting flicks to the straining bud hidden within, making you sensitively twitch, before dragging the flat of his tongue across it in broad, sweeping strokes. You could feel yourself tipping ever closer to the edge and, with a wheezing gasp, you reach down with both hands to cradle either side of his head.

You’re not sure if you want to push him away or draw him closer - as if that were even possible at this point.

“Oh - Ogun, wha - wait! Nngh … if you keep going - -“

Smacking his lips, he comes up just enough for you to hear him say “You’ll cum? Good.” Before diving back in.

The way he immediately opens his mouth wide and plunges his tongue into the satiny soft folds and creases of your cunt, teasing at your entrance, has you jolting as if you’ve been electrocuted. Gritting your teeth, you clutch him all the tighter while the building pressure inside you steadily inches towards blissful discomfort. Your heaving body was truly hanging in the balance now, entirely at his mercy (of which there seemed to be none) and your legs uselessly flex in the air when you squeeze them around his head. You could almost taste it in the back of your throat.

“Fuck! Right there …” you whine as you rock your pelvis against his mouth, the motion stiff and halting. “Right there, baby … I’m s - so - ooooh - close!”

Ogun grunts in approval and drags his tongue up to the top of your slit again, burying his face somehow even deeper into the cushiony give of your pussy. He glances at you, very briefly, from under the fall of dark lashes and the heady, masculine glint in those burnt gold irises sends a powerful shudder rippling down your spine. Your mouth drops open as if to scream but nothing comes out. For a worryingly long moment, it feels like you forgot how to breathe.

All you can do is watch on in thrumming suspense when he drops his gaze and gives his head a shake to jostle all the nerve endings in your cunt. The braids you’d worked on all day give a little bounce in their ponytail before settling again, and your eyes start to roll back when he flattens his tongue to your clit so he can grind down on it again. Static shoots through your system as you arch against him, so fitfully your back starts to ache in protest, but it was much too late. Nothing could stop it now, not even if you wanted to.

You suck in a haggard breath and the coil snaps, just like that. With an almost violent jerk, you devolve into a fit of convulsions that has you wailing up at the ceiling in total disregard for the upstairs neighbors. They probably heard you every time you and your boyfriend had sex but it’s not as if you could very well help it. Ogun was a talented individual by nature and that certainly transferred over into bedroom activities too.

Helpless, all you can do is cling to him through the full bodied tremors that shake you straight down to your core while he leisurely laps at your throbbing clit to ease you through it. He always seemed intent on milking your orgasms for all they were worth, and that certainly didn’t help your case with your neighbors either. It always felt like something of an out of body experience when he was the one going down on you and you couldn’t exactly say you disliked him for that.

The exact opposite, actually.

“Oh, god …”

With a stuttering groan, you slowly go limp as you come down from your high one piece of you at a time. It was hard to tell which jagged edges fit where, but you’re still acutely aware of the mess he’s made of your cunt when Ogun finally straightens and you feel a rush of fresh air hit your drenched slit. You shiver at the sensation and crack your eyes open to peer down at him, whimpering.

“You didn’t listen …”

Snorting a quiet laugh, he shifts against you and brings a hand up to swipe the glistening moisture from his mouth. “I only did what you initially asked for, sweetheart. That doesn’t mean I can’t give you the second request, too.”

Your lips curl in a warbling smile at that, and he grins right back.

Letting your head loll against the couch cushions, you contentedly watch as he brings your legs down off his shoulders so he can move to stand. Leaving you spread out and feeling like silly putty, he yanks his shirt over his head with one quick, fluid motion that makes his abdominals tantalizingly ripple before reaching for his pants next. He makes quick work of the button and then the fly, anticipation evident in his body language when he shoves them along with his underwear down to his feet.

Ogun’s thick cock bounces eagerly when he steps out of his discarded clothes, and the sight alone is enough to make your pussy clench tight. You still felt sensitive and over wrought, so fresh off the tail end of your orgasm, but that doesn’t stop you from moaning faintly at the sight of him.

You’d never known a more attractive man in all your life.

“Ogun …” You murmur, eyes slipping shut when your desire flares back at full force dizzyingly fast.

Your eyes immediately pop back open, however, when he slides his arms under your knees and leans forward to brace against the couch, folding you up like a pretzel. Your toes flex as you squirm underneath him, glancing down at your defenless little cunt with an excited squeak. Puffy lips can’t help but spread in this position and you easily catch sight of your swollen clit straining towards him in obvious need, not yet satisfied.

Hovering just a scant breath away, his straining cock - all silky smooth and heavy - twitches in anticipation, eager to sink into you. It doesn’t look like it's going to fit. It never does but, somehow or another, he always manages to squeeze every girthy inch of himself inside you and the thought alone has you throbbing in sharp, sporadic pulses.

It was almost embarrassing how fast you were bouncing back from the first round, but you can’t quite complain when you watch his hanging ballsack sway with the motion of getting himself situated and your pussy responds in kind with an intense pulse. He had the body of a breeder and you were sure he would’ve already had you heavy and round by now if only you weren’t on birth control. Maybe someday, though …

“Ogun …” You were starting to feel well and truly delirious now, and you reach up to dig your nails into his forearms for leverage to ground yourself with.

He doesn’t seem to mind it though, and he merely issues a soft grunt of acknowledgement as he rocks forward a bit to angle your defenseless pussy up at him more. You can feel yourself squeeze down and you groan, dazedly watching your own thighs flex in their bent up position but there was simply no way out of his hold now. The thought alone is enough to have you breathing out a stuttering puff of air, which you promptly choke on when he starts to lower his pelvis towards yours.

“Yes, yes, yes, please give it to me, I need it, I need it, please --”

You’re whining. You realize that on some level, but you’re much too consumed by this desperate hunger to have him rearranging your guts to care about that right now. It wouldn’t take Ogun long at all to have you creaming around him at this rate.

Unperturbed, he casually adjusts his position over top of you before swooping down to catch your babbling mouth in another heated kiss to silence you. The passionate force behind the gesture pushes your head back against the cushions and you relent, groaning into his lips as your hands fly up to offer his sides an encouraging squeeze.

Luxuriating under the strength of his body, you drag your palms up across his chest and higher still to grasp his shoulders. With a weak, halfhearted jut of your pelvis, you make a sad little attempt at angling your hips up enough to feel his leaking cockhead against your sticky cunt but it’s no use. He has you thoroughly pinned and at his mercy like this. His for the taking whenever he saw fit to skewer you on his sizable length and not a moment sooner.

It was too much.

You suddenly break from the kiss in favor of keening in soft desperation. He pulls back, stopping just long enough to regard you with that infuriatingly attractive, heavy lidded look before pointedly glancing between your bodies.

Slowly, you follow his lead only to swallow hard when his thighs flex forward and the underside of his cock skirts along your parted pussy lips. The crude way it bumps against your clit has you jolting at the sensation and clutching him all the more fervently. Your whole body positively shakes as Ogun shuffles his feet a little further apart and tries again, the bulbous glans slipping and sliding through petal soft folds once, twice - until it abruptly finds its mark on the third stroke.

Catching at your entrance, he pauses for a moment and then slowly starts to sink in. Your breath hitches, mouth opening on a silent scream as you watch the ruddy pink head slowly disappear into your body. The stretch is immediately felt, and it’s more than enough to make your greedy pussy flutter around the intrusion even as it gushes more sticky slick to ease the way.

But the more of him that slides into the gummy sleeve of your insides, the less good it does. He’s just too big - wider than he is long, yet still large enough to push your heaving body right to its limits. You hold your breath, head spinning, when he pushes further in and forces your squeezing passage to make room for him. More and more, until he’s about half of the way inside where he finally pauses to let you adjust.

You twitch, weakly writhing like a small animal caught in the merciless maw a steel trap. You were utterly powerless underneath him.

“Oh - Ogun! Fuck … fuck me - dear Sol, please just fuck me!”

He draws a slow, calming breath. “You’re still so tight, baby … I don’t want to hurt you.”

Whimpering, you reach between your legs and wrap trembling fingers around the base of him. Ogun moans after a few awkward pumps of your hand and tilts his face up at the ceiling, basking in the sensation of you jerking him while he’s half wedged inside your body.

It must feel good because it takes him a prolonged moment to get his bearings again and when he does, he carefully eases himself back just enough to give a tiny thrust forward. You can feel the moment he slips in a little deeper than before and you guide him into it, one sedate thrust at a time. When you stroke up, he pulls back and when you stroke down, he pushes into you. It’s a maddeningly cohesive rhythm that has you panting like a bitch in heat long before he finally slides home and you outright choke when the fronts of his thighs settle against the backs of yours a small eternity later.

“Shit,” He hisses, brows knitting as he peers down to admire the sight of his pelvis flush against yours. “That’s a tight fit … how’re you doing, sweetheart? It’s not too much, is it?”

You give your head a numb shake and roll your eyes up at him, teasing your fingertips through the mess of curls at the base of his groin while you do it. Words couldn’t even come close to describing how stuffed full you felt, but you loved it.

“N - no … it’s perfect … feels - ngh - good …”

Smiling, Ogun dips his face close to press his mouth to your forehead in a chastely sweet kiss. He stays like that as he carefully angles back until just the tip remains and then, so slowly you can feel it in your bones, he pushes back in. The drag is exquisite and it feels like you’re practically suffocating on the intense pleasure of every solid inch, each throbbing vein. You could feel it all.

A wordless cry of pleasure bursts out of you when he slides back out and in again at that same staggered pace. He’s so big you can feel the pressure on your cervix and when he wiggles his hips, grinding into you, oh god, it feels like he’s pushing the glans right on that raised ring of puckered flesh. Your mouth drops open but nothing comes out. It was hard just to keep your eyes focused anymore.

Haltingly, he starts up a gradual but steady pace as your body adjusts around the intrusion and makes room for him, your pulpy walls clinging to the length of him on each drawn out stroke. It comes as a great relief, particularly when the building pressure swells into high strung arousal and replaces the initial discomfort of being stretched right to the breaking point.

In a matter of moments, the sticky wet clicking that noises each time your pussy sucks him in deep on the downward thrust comes to dominate the living room. The sound of it only seems highlighted by your sensitive bleating and the husky groans slipping out of him, the drone of the tv so much an afterthought now that you forgot it was even on. Even when he picks up enough speed to drive the fronts of his thighs against your upturned ass, creating a sharp, fleshy slap, it’s nothing compared to the hungry slurping of your cunt.

You probably would’ve been embarrassed by the whole thing if only it didn’t feel like he was spearing you straight down the middle. It made your eyes cross, mouth hanging open in doped out bliss while you cling and clutch at him for dear life. There wasn’t a single inch of you that he didn’t touch like this and it lit up every nerve ending along the way like a goddamn firework.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think he was going to break you in half.

“Such a pretty baby. Look how well you’re taking my cock ....”

You gasp. “Hnng, s’so big …!”

“And you’re taking all of it,” he murmurs, just this side of breathless. “Like a champ. Do you have any idea how good you look right now? Huh?”

You warble out an incomprehensible response, far too overwhelmed and riveted by the way Ogun’s cock glistens obscenely every time it makes another appearance between your thighs. Your fingers dig into his forearms, leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin and try not to scream in ecstasy while he carves out a space within you.

You loved watching him fuck you like this for a multitude of reasons, the most pressing at the moment being that it drove you absolutely wild.

“If you keep squeezing me like that … ngh, I won’t last much longer.” He warns, his tone far too strained to hold even a hint of real reprimand.

“I want it,” you blubber wetly. “I want it, Ogun, please …”

“You want me to cum in you?”

A jerky nod accompanied by a mewling whimper.

He lets out a shaky breath as the speed of his thrusts quicken and you jerk underneath him, bleating like something wounded. The muscles in his arms flex and twitch around you when he smoothly adjusts the positioning of his hands, hunching further over you without so much as missing a beat.

“God, you drive me crazy …”

You’d like to tell him the feeling is mutual but you don’t get the chance. A particularly sharp snap of his hips knocks something loose inside you and you uncontrollably shake, legs kicking up uselessly at the air with a wordless noise of soaring pleasure. Cumming again doesn’t seem like such a far off possibility and a frazzled whine claws at the back of your throat when he presses his sweat slick forehead against yours, prompting you to glance up.

Ogun’s eyes were always beautiful to look at but especially so when you were staring into them from just a hair's breadth away and they were clouded dark with primal need as well something much more weighty.

“Tell me you want it, sweetheart. Tell me.”

“I - ngh - aaaahh, I want your cum, Ogun! I need you to fill me uh - up, please, I want it so baaad!”

A shudder races through him and he groans, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment as if to get his bearings before cracking open again. Keeping his forehead against yours, he tilts his head down to look between the two of you and, once again, you follow suit.

The sinfully rich color of his cock, just a shade or two darker than the rest of him, looks all the more tantalizing coated in your slick. You’ve all but drenched him at this point, the tight curls that frame his length visibly damp and matted together now. You suck in a frazzled breath at the sight, your head spinning alarmingly fast when the building pressure in your gut becomes almost too much to withstand. How was it that one single man could make you feel so primal with need but tenderly cared for at the same time?

“I - -“ You all but choke on it, wheezing at the next stroke. “I’m gonna’ - ahh, cum again … don’t stop!”

“I’m about to cum too, sweetheart.” With a soft groan, he lifts his attention to pin you with a heady look of challenge. “Think we can cum together?”

You frantically nod. “Uh huh!”

The corner of Ogun’s mouth twitches at that, settling into a lazy smirk as he shifts back and slows the motion of his hips. You can’t help groaning in disappointment but you realize what he’s doing quickly enough when he lets up his hold on your legs so he can lower himself down to lay out on top of you. Working his arms under your overheated back, he practically crushes you to the front of him and you bring your own up to wrap them around his neck.

This new position increases the pressure in your guts by a noticeable margin and the air rushes out of you with a stuttering sigh when he crawls up onto the edge of the couch to pin your thighs under his weight. Your legs are just as useless as before, twitching impotently in the air when he eases his hips back as far as he can. He doesn’t make it far, just enough to feel the drag and the subsequent plunge, but it makes you cry out all the same.

Face shoved into your hair, Ogun lets loose a series of heavy grunts when he picks up his earlier pace and the same sticky clicking rises in the air again. It’s much less deafening this time, softer by virtue of his shorter strokes, and you gratefully clutch him against you, glad to hold onto him.

“You feel so good …” he groans, making you shudder at the puff of hot air against your neck.

You can’t quite find your voice though, and you respond with a faltering moan that has him twitching inside you. The thick bands of musculature across his shoulders dance under your fingers each time he moves, emphasizing the raw strength in his lithe body. And yet he was still being careful with you, the plunge of his cock as carefully measured as before so as not to slam against your cervix but still tease it.

It wasn’t even that he was unreasonably large but, rather, he just so happened to fit you like a glove and that was perhaps the most arousing part of all.

“Ogun,” you finally manage to whimper. “Mm’ gonna’ cum …”

“Me too …”

The quietly stricken groan that comes out of him next makes your toes curl. You clench around him in a palpitating flutter, so close to the edge it brought the sting of tears to your eyes. His hips stutter at the squeeze and he trembles against you, struggling to keep up the subdued thrusting he’d settled into.

It quickly proves futile when his body tenses up with a low, faltering moan that rattles so deep you feel it in your cunt. The air catches in your throat and you squeeze him with your arms across his back and your legs around his narrow waist, clutching him to you as he lurches. Blunt fingers dig into your skin and he gives a little jerk, issuing a sucker punched wheeze seconds before you feel the rush of hot seed flooding your cunt.

You tremble wildly, nails clawing into his back when the sensation of Ogun shooting thick ropes against your gummy walls makes your muscles clamp around him hard enough to send you over the edge. Writhing in bliss, you stutter out a groan that he matches with one of his own while the two of you quake through your orgasms as one.

It was transcendental in a way you never would have thought possible.

Dropping his face to the couch cushions when you finally start to grow still underneath him some moments later, he issues a rumbling sound of satisfaction. The ragged quality of your panting quickly rushes in to replace the sticky wet squelching of your cunt, and you go boneless while you try to catch your breath. That was a lot easier said than done though and he, predictably, recovers much quicker than you.

“I’m surprised we really managed to pull that off.” He hums in contentment and turns his face to kiss at your ear, teasingly soft. “That’s a first.”

“And hopefully not the last.” You wheeze, making him chuckle.

“You liked it then, I take it?”

Dislodging your cramping fingers from his back with a certain amount of effort, you bring your hand up to push the hair from your face. “It was amazing … intense. I didn’t think we could do it either.”

Ogun lifts his head to press his mouth to your check, your nose, the spot between your eyes, all with a big smile on his face. “I’m glad we did. I promise I’ll try my best to make it happen again but no promises, okay?”

You can’t quite stop from giggling. “Don’t worry. I have faith in you.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Pausing long enough to give your ribs an affectionate pinch, he carefully pushes up from the couch and leans back. His softened cock slips out of you in the process, and you internally wince at the dribble of hot cum that oozes from you without him there to stopper it.

You draw your legs up to keep the mess to a minimum when he stands, gleaming eyes taking in the sight of you curled up on your couch with his semen leaking down the crease of your pussy for a prolonged beat. And then, he grins.

“Wanna’ get cleaned up and I’ll order that pizza?”

“How am I supposed to think about food after all that?” You pout at him.

Sending a sly look down at the spot between your thighs, Ogun starts to turn towards the bathroom. “I’ll get you a rag. I’m sure you’ll realize just how hungry you are once the adrenaline wears off. Besides, you should probably refuel before I try to give you an encore.”

Smiling at that, you appreciatively glance down at his tight ass before he disappears through the doorway. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind he’d be able to pull it off.

#ogun montgomery #ogun x reader #fire force #self insert bullshit #enen no shouboutai #my writing

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mellometal · 4 years ago

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Do we have ANOTHER Dhar Mann video to rip apart today? Yes, we do.

This one is a real specimen...a real treat, if you will. I'm gonna have a field day with this. Today, we'll be talking about how to actually treat disabled people! Specifically physically disabled people! This is something I have a bit of a specialty in, since I do work with disabled people for a living.

This is a VERY recent video, by the way. When I watched this, it made my blood boil seeing how this disabled woman was being treated. Reading some of the comments people were making took everything in me to not scream at them through my phone. Why? I had the shadow of a doubt that they were probably very young and have never been around disabled people before...even though they very well probably have, but didn't realize it.

Before I begin, there's A LOT of ableism that I'm going to talk about. If that triggers you or makes you uncomfortable in any way, feel free to scroll past this and consume content that sparks joy.

To sum up the video, a disabled woman was getting out of her truck in the parking lot, intending to do some grocery shopping. An able-bodied woman (Karen) comes up to this woman to ask her a whole bunch of questions, try to help her unload things out of her truck (when she didn't need any help in the first place), and "tried to relate" by saying that she was in a wheelchair for two weeks in high school. Please don't do that.

Karen touched this woman's wheelchair without her consent and attempted to push her when she never asked for any help.

NEVER touch a disabled person, their wheelchair, walker, motor scooter, cane, etc. (medical equipment, essentially), without their consent. Unless the disabled person cannot move around on their own, they give you their consent, you're their caretaker, family members, or a professional who works with disabled people, don't touch them or their equipment. Even then, it never hurts to ask them first, especially if you're a new caretaker or a new professional in their home and they don't know you very well. If they tell you "no" and/or the person/people with them say "no", it means "no" and you need to leave them alone. If they tell you that they don't need your help, to leave them alone, or anything else along those lines, those phrases also mean "no". If they say they need help or they ask for help, of course, help them.

(ETA: Wheelchairs, walkers, motor scooters, canes, etc., are part of the physically disabled person. These things are how they move around. I meant this in the, "Don't touch THEM." kind of sense. Just thought I'd clarify real quick.)

Karen then pulled out her phone to take a picture with the disabled woman, despite her saying she didn't want to have pictures being taken of her. Karen POSTED IT ON HER SOCIAL MEDIA. The disabled woman says to Karen to leave her alone, stop worrying about her, and that she doesn't need any help.

In the store, the disabled woman is just getting some groceries...like anyone else would. She gets her reaching tool out to grab an item off the top shelf behind Karen, who makes a tasteless joke about how she should give her a speeding ticket. The disabled woman makes a remark that her legs may not work, but her eyes do. She grabs a bottle of blue cheese dressing off the top shelf with her reaching tool, which Karen grabs for her without asking.

Karen crouches down to talk to the disabled woman, which makes the woman understandably uncomfortable. The woman tries to put her groceries on the counter to pay for them, which Karen butts in YET AGAIN. The woman is obviously fed up at this point, rightfully so. Karen then offers to pay for this woman's groceries, which wasn't necessary whatsoever. Why? Because she "felt bad" for her and has the assumption that disabled people "don't have a lot of money". She also asked the disabled woman what happened for her to be in a wheelchair, which is something that I've only heard of CHILDREN asking. (That's none of your business, by the way. It's up to that person to tell you.)

Listen, disabled people don't need to be pitied. They're disabled. It is what it is. Being disabled isn't a disease, so please stop treating it like it is. As far as disabled people not having a lot of money, that's not exactly true for every aspect of life. They're not allowed to have any more than $2,000 in assets each month along with their benefits. They do have money, and the amount all depends on the person. You cannot just bunch up all disabled people's income as the same. Some disabled people don't have SSI. If they get married, their income gets even lower or they lose benefits completely, which is extremely fucked up and makes them more vulnerable to being exploited, abused, and controlled. Marriage equality STILL doesn't exist because disabled people are STILL not being treated as equals in marriages. Some places only pay disabled employees like $3.34 an hour or something crazy like that (that's how much Goodwill pays disabled employees, by the way). The working conditions for disabled people NEED to change. Give them a livable wage. You CANNOT live off of $3.34 an hour. Make companies give necessary, legal accommodations to disabled people. They have a right to their assets and to keep them, regardless of whether they get married or not. Why would you reduce that or take that away from them? Do you even know what their benefits go towards? THEM BEING ABLE TO LIVE, IN LAYMAN'S TERMS. All in all, help make the world a better place for disabled people. (Edited for new information.)

She pulls out her phone AGAIN to take pictures with the disabled woman, who puts her hand up to the phone and says she doesn't want to have pictures being taken of her. Karen then says that she's "just trying to spread awareness"....disabled people aren't a disease. They're not a danger to you. All disabled people ask for is to be accepted, treated like everyone else, and to have accommodations readily available for them. People are already aware of the existence of disabled people.

The disabled woman is clearly very fed up and wants to get back to her truck and go to wherever she needs to be, Karen goes out to confront her "for being rude", and the disabled woman confronts Karen for being extremely rude to her and stomping all over her boundaries. This woman was VERY polite too. Actually, WAY too polite. A lot of people in the comments section seemed to misunderstand her justified anger and wrote it off as her being a bitch. If you were a disabled person who's completely independent, you had some stranger randomly come up to you to ask twenty questions, they were constantly harassing you, touching you without your consent, shoving their phone or camera in your face to take pictures of you even when you told them you weren't okay with that, belittled you, and boiled you down to your disability, YOU'D BE PISSED TOO.

This woman tells Karen to not assume that disabled people all are completely helpless and can't do anything for themselves, that she's more than her disability, and to respect people. Karen apologizes (finally) and briefly explains that she thought she was trying to do a good deed. The woman says that she knows people have good intentions, but they again, shouldn't assume that all disabled people need their help. Especially when they don't ask for it. Plot twist: she owns her own company and is rich! (There are/have been rich disabled people; however, I can only name a few off the top of my head.)

Only then does Karen FINALLY decide to delete the picture she posted of this woman that she took without her consent. And it ends there.

(Context: The disabled woman told Karen that she didn't need her to push her....and yet Karen tries to anyway.)

This isn't okay. Karen should have left this woman alone after she told Karen to do so.

Taking pictures of people, despite them telling you that they don't want to take pictures, and posting them on social media without their consent for clout! What's that called again? Hmmmm....I know! EXPLOITATION! And being an extremely disrespectful sack of shit.

Again....if they say "no" or anything else along those lines, IT MEANS NO.

Onto my response. Again, like usual, it's a long response.

This is pretty much what I've said earlier...but like, seriously. If you want to help disabled people, THAT'S GREAT! You can try getting a job at a place that helps disabled people! You can volunteer!

Just....don't be like Karen in this video. Enough said. I don't think I need to elaborate further on that.

#mello speaks #dhar mann #dhar mann talk #dhar mann is a piece of human garbage #please stop supporting dhar mann #tw ableism #dhar mann will live to regret his decision to make these fucked up cringe videos #dhar mann will live to regret his decision uwu #tw dhar mann

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problemnyatic · 1 year ago

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With all this said and still on my mind, I feel like I would be remiss to gloss over the epidemic of learned helplessness that comes with this. I stand by what I've said. Counteracting the larger scale issue of how much we don't know because we were never taught is fucking difficult, and I think we largely need to be afforded a lot of grace given the circumstances.

But at the same time, I see a frankly harrowing amount of folks out there who seem too terrified to even begin looking right in front of them, completely overwhelmed by the mere prospect that the information they lack will need to be searched for.

An example our girlfriend used comes to mind: When you see a post explaining some kind of thing, and you open the notes to read the replies. You find someone asking a question, sometimes one that was answered in the post, and, graciously, op or someone else replies to them with an answer.

and then you scroll down 5 replies and see the same question verbatim from someone else.

This one goes out to the folks who read the previous reblog and felt seen; You cannot let yourself be intimidated into inaction by the feeling of not knowing. Please, please take the time to at least check your immediate vicinity to see if you can't find the answers to your questions before asking others to bring the information directly to your feet.

There's two major aspects to actually doing something about the ignorance epidemic here- Those who actually have the information have to be fucking nice about it. I said it before, but i reiterate: it is not a moral failing to never have been told something. And contributing to the shame of ignorance only further ensures that those that need to learn will never try to.

The other part is that those of us who've been failed by our education need to slow down, take a breath, and just.. look. If we do find ourselves with a question, try to see if we can't find the answer ourselves. Ask ourselves if someone else might have the same question, and see if they've asked it already. Check to see if it actually can be answered with a quick google, or by wikipedia or something. Other people's energy is a resource that can be depleted, and while it's not a moral failing to need help, it will only hurt this overarching issue to be a part of the crowd asking the same questions of someone over and over.

Knowing where to start is kind of a nightmare, but "right here" is never a bad answer. If you make some kind of mistake or fuck up along the way, that's okay. Literally the point here is that you're still learning. If someone's being a dick to you about it, it's gonna hurt, and I'm sorry- try to keep in mind that this is them being a dick about it, and that that is not the same as you deserving it just because someone saw fit to treat you that way. You don't need to internalize everything others say or do to you just because it happened, okay? Think about it, definitely don't just dismiss everything that makes you feel bad or ashamed, but don't let it stop you from trying to learn and improve yourself either.

Everything is an opportunity. To learn, to improve yourself, to grow. Try to make the most of every chance you get, see these opportunities as positive things! And don't forget that "growth" means resting too. The hand the world has dealt us is apocalyptically unfair, but we still have to play it like we mean it, yeah? If we're kind to ourselves, kind to each other, and compassionate to the fact that these are the cards everyone's been given, maybe there will be fewer reasons to be frustrated with each other as time goes on.

stupid fucking american, just do your research, it's not like it's hard. You were supposed to check your shit before just spouting whatever bullshit you thought you knew, idiot. Nevermind that research itself has become an agonizing slog of fighting the dense, rancid spectre of the internet's rotting, bloated, still-living corpse along the uphill battle against a cavalcade of mental illnesses that make the act of sifting through visually identical information and picking through it for vague, far from self-evident signs of low information integrity agonizing as hell, just fucking pick up the slack of two decades of life that were wasted being failed by a national institution more interested in turning you into a factory floor soldier than setting you up for success, idiot lol

#problemnyatic rants #problemnyatic thoughts #yeah yeah this is super duper preachy. Come into my house and shoot me six times in the chest about it #I just think there needs to be more love and patience in the world #precisely because of how horrible and shitty everything is and everyone has it #I don't think that's the worst thing to get openly emotional about

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vanillaxoshi · 6 months ago

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I was curious on how Cahaya's school life could possibly be in age bracket and there's this one experience I remember very distinctly when I was in 6th grade. Hope you enjoy :D

btw "hi" is normal speech 'hi' is written and 'hi' is thoughts

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

He'd thought 3rd grade would be better than 1st or 2nd grade. Unexpectedly, he'd be horribly wrong. Sure it could have something to do with him being the youngest there

but he thinks age shouldn't really matter on how you treat someone ... Maybe skipping grades isn't as cool as he thought it would be

No matter, he has long concluded that Fang to be the only friend he'll ever make in his life.

Which brings him to the library. It's not extravagant, far from the greatest libraries hes ever been in, the books aren't really great in terms of quality, and there are still some rowdy kids here and there (despite the very obvious rule of being silent in a library)

But it is still one of the more quiet to calming places of the school

Entering through the double doors, Cahaya greets the librarian with a simple wave, earning a smile and a nod from the middle-aged woman. That's the other thing, as he makes his way through the columns of bookshelves that are far too big than him

The librarian is really kind to him, she knows sign language; advance ones even! (he couldn't make out some of them) She even said she might start a mini class for students to learn sigh language, it'll basically be a secret club here in the library!

What's even more spectacular is that she didn't seem bothered by his exaggerated arms shaking making up and down motions and legs tapping excitedly—he later learns it's called "stimming"— truly the coolest person in this school. Beside himself and Fang, of course

The only problem is that she informed him that they needed at least 3 participants, something about legality and how it could paint a bad picture if it's just the both of them. Which is silly!

What's so wrong with a private class between a student and a teacher? what's an adult gonna do to a child? the worst he could think is punishing, he can't think what else an adult could do… lecture maybe?

That doesn't sound so bad

He looks at the stack when it reaches almost half his height. Huh. Maybe he overdid it a little bit He picked the book at the top and so it begins

He usually doesn't read this much considering the limited amount of time that they have, but Fang isn't here today, so he doesn't really have anything to pass the time

As time went by with each book slowly going to the opposite stack, his mind wanders away making the words all jumbled up

Huffing, he rereads the start of the paragraph. His mind went back to the topic of him skipping grades; how he was proud of himself at first... until they explained that Fang wouldn't be in the same class as him

He didn't mind at first, since they figured they could always just meet up during recess and lunch in the library. But sometimes that wasn't reliable..

Shaking his head, he tries to think of something else; like getting another person to join the super awesome secret club in the library. One problem. He doesn't really have anyone that's in the same grade as him.

Fang is a grade below him and Daun is WAY above him, and no one wants to talk to the silent kid who "can't talk". Which ouch. He never asked to be born this way, but once again he reminds himself that he had long accepted it. Plus, the people he actually cares about loves and respects him so he doesn't really mind.

Keeps him focus on something more important; like studying.

Even if it does get lonely some days... maybe he got too used to having Fang's presenc- nope nope. Ignore that thought, close it. Nope.

Just... focus on reading this chapter, he only has 7 more minutes if his watch was any indication. What was this even about? The fascinating variety of colors in the sk-

All the small hair in his arms straightened as a shiver goes through his whole body. He knows the feeling all too well.

'Someone's staring at me.' He looks around to confirm his hypothesis and true to his assumption, he found himself to be right at the sight of a gray and light blue... soft sky blue?—whatever color in the pastel blue spectrum— hijabi girl. 'Ah Maya' his mind helpfully remind him. Going through his catalog of classmates in quick sessions without hopefully looking suspicious

Maya was one of the more... eh ok classmate, simply because she doesn't really bother him, actually... except for that one time.

"Aww you're so small! it must be so cool being a 3rd grader despite being only 7 years old," 'no it isn't' "You're like our little brother in a way," she cheerfully added, "when's your birthday anyway?" 'None of your business?' "Aww c'mon don't act that way." she pouts, it quickly turns to a bunch of giggles. "I'm Maya" 'I know'... "and you are?" 'You already know.' "I'm making small talk over here give me a break," she chuckled. He sighed and quickly wrote 'Apologies if I seem rude, I thought yo-' he didn't even get to finish his writing "Why are you writing anyway? Isn't tiring? Do you just carry that board wherever you go?" ah. Here we go- "Why don't you just speak?" she went to touch him, "do you have a hearing prob-" *SLAP* . . A pencil could be heard as everyone stares at them, at HIM. his wide-eyed stare locked into the hand that he slapped away mere inches from his face. The owner of the hand looks like a fish out of water, staring at him in disbelief. The sound of footsteps made the two newly 3rd graders turn The teacher was coming. And he looked displeased. 'I've never upsetted a teacher before' his hand shake as he tries to comprehend the words that are flying a mile a minute through his head, he couldn't even bring himself to write an explanation, the words aren't forming for him. The blank board mocks him. "What is the meaning of this, you can't-" he saw in the corner of his peripheral view as Maya sporadically shake her hands in front of the teacher, "NO, nono it was a mist—" the words all blur together for him. His surroundings turning hazy. Everything is a jumbled up mess. The stares. The words. The shouts. It's too much IT'S TOO MUCH *THUNK* He slaps his board with the words "LEAVE ME ALONE" messily written on it and...

He couldn't really remember what happens next. After that disastrous first meeting, she has elected to avoid him

She seemed like the observent type anyway.

*KRINGGGG~*

He dashes out of the library to go to his classes. Theres still a few more hours before school ends.

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This got way too long T^T

nnoooooo my poor boi!!

Sensory overload? Meltdown?

And the scrambled mind trying to find words

Maya would prob be a friend, im sure she understood it was not intentional but then again the 'Leave me alone' might give her change of mind

That depends on her

Love the librarian, there better be a secret club for my boi!✊

And hes gotten so used to having fang around, must be overwhelming for him

#xoshi asks #xoshi answers #boboiboy #boboiboy galaxy #bbb age bracket au #maiprim scenarios #sorry it took long to answer #but cant wait for the next part! :D #the librarian knowing sign language and helping cahaya with it too #help for him and other kids who cant talk #and oof kids will ask thise questions #its not mean or bad but yeah #ha im putting more of my thoughts here in tags ok ill stop

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tomakeitbeautifultolive · 6 years ago

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Listen, I might be playing the devils advocate, but I don't think Dany's fate in the GoT finale was due to D&D being sexist.I think it was just because D&D can't write for crap.

It’s not about intent.

Allow me to begin by saying that I completely understand the knee-jerk reaction that people have to the term ‘sexism’. It’s very polarizing, and when men read the term, they immediately go on the offensive. That’s not what I want at all. I don’t use the term to alienate or exclude men, I use it because it’s the dictionary definition of what I’m trying to convey:

sex·ism (noun): "prejudice, stereotyping, or discrimination, typically against women, on the basis of sex.“

That said, allow me to play devil’s advocate here and say that I do not believe the writers intended to have an underlying sexist message. They are more oblivious than they are malicious. It is born of sheer ignorance (lack of knowledge or information) and the privilege to ignore it because, as males, it doesn’t affect them.

Let’s put aside the dozens of articles that came out after the finale calling out the sexism. You guys know me, I like to pull receipts, cite my sources, and throw in some visuals to help aid my point.

For most of the 70+ hours of Game of Thrones, Daenerys actually does not fall victim to these sexist tropes. Honestly, that is what subverted my expectations for seven seasons. That Dany always teetered on the edge of these tired, overused tropes about women, yet she remained steadfast in her ruthless yet good nature, her moral compass was always aligned even if it didn’t match the viewers, and she was a gods-damned hero, straight through to episode four of season eight.

But the demoralizing reality is that Daenerys was hit with trope after trope in the last three episodes. In the final hours of the show, the writers pulled a bait-and-switch, giving us a ‘shocking’ heel-tern whose only foreshadowing was a very bad retcon job full of double standards. And so many fans, such as yourself, justify it. Not because the show foreshadowed it, but because these tropes are so, so ingrained in our brains from decades of media feeding us these narratives that we now expect them.

In the end, Daenerys succumbs to numerous sexist tropes:

'God Save Us From the Queen’ trope

“The Good Kingdom: A lovely, wealthy country ruled by a benevolent king, a wise prince, and a fair princess loved by the populace. But what’s that? There’s a queen? Oh, brother, we’re in trouble.”

Disposable Woman trope

“This character has a familial or romantic relationship with a protagonist, which allows creators to derive heart-wrenching sorrow from her death.”

Evil Infertile Woman trope

“Women are often divided into "breeders” and “the barren,” with the latter coming off as cool and distant at best, and malicious and desperate at worst.“

The Double-Standard Trope

"A double standard occurs when members of two or more groups are treated differently regarding the same thing. Gender is one of the most common causes of double standards.”

Hysterical Woman trope

“This trope characterizes women as less rational, disciplined, and emotionally stable than men, and thus more prone to mood swings, irrational overreactions, and mental illness.”

Woman Scorned trope

“What’s the only type of woman more dangerous than a Mama Bear? A woman who’s been dumped or otherwise done wrong by her significant other. Especially if she’s been hiding some sanity problems.”

Women Are Delicate trope

“Even if women have toughness, competence, strength or stability, it’s less than what their male peers are capable of.”

The Woman Wearing the Queenly Mask trope

“They don’t want a young woman, or they don’t want any woman, or they just don’t want this particular woman on the throne.”

Tropes in and of themselves are not bad, but very outdated tropes that are associated with the emotional or mental ‘fragility’ of women are. Why? Because they reinforce deep-seated and subconscious stereotypes of women that audiences hold.

“It’s just a show/book! Who cares!”

People have been turning to art (including literature) for years for meaning, for philosophical guidance. Most people in my own country turn to one book to both find and justify their morality (the bible).

“Literature offers not just a window into the culture of diverse regions, but also the society, the politics; it’s the only place where we can keep track of ideas.”―Reza Aslan

It’s not just a show. The art and media we consume helps shape who we are, for better or worse. When men refuse to consider the consequence of their sexist narratives simply because it doesn’t affect their own lives, it inadvertently causes harm for others who don’t share their privilege.

And it’s not just Daenerys. She’s just the figurehead.

There was a great article from BBC about how much women actually speak on Game of Thrones:

I can already hear the counter-argument brewing…

“So what? There are more male characters!”

Yeah. There are. And that’s a problem, too.

Of the top-grossing 1,200 films from 2007 to 2018, 28% of films were led or co-led by women. Meanwhile, around 49.6 percent of the world’s population is female.

By featuring so few women and by giving women who are featured 20% of the airtime to speak their minds, the writers are unintentionally devaluing the speech and opinions of women. This inspires the audience to devalue women in a subconscious way.

Whether or not it intended to, Game of Thrones and its shocking 'heel-turn’ has very troubling sexist and political implications (amongst other things).

Go ahead, tell me I’m wrong. Tell me I’m blowing this way out of proportion.

Tell me it’s just a show or a book and every single fan knows how to separate fiction from reality (they don’t, go look at Maisie William’s Instagram comments following her season eight sex scene for proof of that). Meanwhile, here in actual reality, we see things like this:

@thescarletgarden1990 informs me that over in Italy, political figures are using Game of Thrones advertising in their campaigns, too:

Translation: “Invaded by masses of Others? Not Today. Immediate naval block, let’s defend our borders.”

What makes it worse is that, at least Donald Trump, identifies with House Stark. Or, those who rule the northerners. The people who showed their blatant racism toward the only two black named characters. And the writers never bothered to critique the problematic behavior, instead, rewarding their people with independence and driving those pesky evil foreigners ’back where they belong’.

I’ve barely had time to scroll my dash and I’ve already seen a troubling amount of harassment towards Dany fans via anon asks (including myself, though I just block the IP and delete but I wish I’d saved them for proof).

Why? Because the ending justifies their personal narrative, this bad writing confirms their worldview. Meanwhile, on the other side of the spectrum, the same thing is happening in reverse in response to the takedown of a figure like Daenerys Targaryen:

“Khaleesi’s heel turn is particularly troubling for fans who might have felt a true sense of connection to her character following her epic story arc, which has seen Dany escape some awful circumstances to literally walk through fire, free the slaves, bring Dragons to the north and help rally the troops to defeat the Night King. She has basically been Abraham Lincoln, Hercules and Winston Churchill combined into one person riding a dragon.” (x)

The point here is that the show is doing its audience of 19,300,000 viewers a great disservice by succumbing to very outdated tropes and double standards, and sending troubling messages as a result. For instance, a woman can do countless heroic or selfless things, but you should never trust her! She needs to be tempered. Women cannot wield power responsibly. There are endless messages you can take away from this ending and the dialogue that led us to the show’s conclusion (my personal favorite being ‘Cocks are important’).

And the fans who want to say 'you’re overreacting’ to everyone who speaks up against it are only aiding in this ongoing legacy of 85% male writers who get to tell our stories, poorly, and reap all the rewards.

Sure, all of this could be solely the result of ‘just bad writing’…

Nevertheless, it is what it is.

#answered #anti got #anti d&d #daenerys targaryen #daenerys defense squad #game of thrones #got #season 8 #sexism #i have a boatload of asks i will get to later eep!

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blueeyedheizer · 4 years ago

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overworking - matt (bbtl)

(hello there sexy)

A/N: so um,,, i'm only 1 week into uni and I already hate it. like. every single class bores the shit out of me. also I'm still friendless. and I hate studying. I literally, physically cannot keep my eyes on a screen and read the same thing over and over. I only get distracted and irritated. I was kinda forced into enroling to uni and fuck I genuinely hate it here, I really wasn't made for studying. honestly, writing about exams and having breakdowns and all this stuff revolving around studies made me anxious 💀💀💀oh how I wish I had a matt to cheer me up rn. 😗 anyway, enough talking

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You stared at the screen of your laptop, eyes burning as you tried to retain as much of the informations you were reading as you could. Your hands came up to your temples, rubbing them in small circle as a headache pounded in your head. Sighing, you buried your face in your hands and let a few tears of frustration wet your cheeks before falling back against your chair, one hand moving up to grip your hair.

The semester was almost over, your exams were approaching. Stress was quickly going up, most of your days were spent in front of your laptop, and your nights were sleepless. If you did get some sleep, you would wake up early and get back to work as soon as possible. The overwhelming amount of work was crushing you, causing you to cry almost daily. Matt would come to see you every hour or so and massage your shoulders, kiss the top of your head and tell you to take a break before walking out after you tell him that you can't.

Finally, after 4 hours of intense reading and numerous breakdowns, you finally decided to take a break. Your head was pounding like mad and despite your will to keep studying you knew working with a headache could only lead to more breakdowns and tears. You shook your head and slammed your laptop shut before stretching your back and dragging yourself out of your room to the living room, making your way over to Matt. He was practicing some chords on his guitar, paying attention to every note, not noticing your presence until you sat down on the couch next to him with a deep sigh.

He turned around and gave you a small smile before setting his guitar down and leaning back against the couch. You scooted closer to him, your arms coming to wrap themselves around his chest as you leaned your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. You let out a small sigh of content when you felt him start to rub your scalp gently.

"How are you feeling?"

"My head feels like it's going to explode." you murmured against him, feeling his lips press on top of your head.

"Look, I know you don't want to, but you need to take a break. And by break, I mean a real break. Two days off, at the very least." you groaned in response and buried your head further onto his chest, holding onto him tighter as you felt the tears come back.

You were already a pretty emotional person, but when a bunch of stress was piled on top of that, the most minimal inconvenience could get you in tears. That was another thing that sucked about being so stressed. You were an emotional mess, literally.

"I'm sorry." you whimpered. "I'm so fucking tired, Matt. No matter how hard I work, I can't seem to get any of the fucking words I read inside my head." you sniffled, letting your tears soak the fabric of his shirt. He gently shushed you and pulled away so he could lift your chin up then cup your cheeks with his hand. He wiped your tears away with his thumb and placed a kiss on your lips.

"You're gonna do great, Y/N. But for now you need to rest. There's a difference between working hard and overworking yourself. You know this isn't healthy. I barely see you anymore, and when I do you're either crying or exhausted." you shrugged, making him peck your lips once more. He got up and went to get you some medicine to treat your headache before sitting back next to you, letting you cuddle against him again.

You stayed like this for a solid 20 minutes, your muscles and nerves slowly easing out of tension. You could feel the medicine begin to take effect as your headache slightly dimmed down, your boyfriend's fingertips lightly scratching your scalp also greatly helping. After a few more minutes you pulled away, opening your eyes and leaning up to kiss him.

"Thank you."

Matt only smiled in response, his thumb gently brushing over your bottom lip. He pulled you in for a kiss and slowly climbed on top of you when you deepened it, his lips soon moving down to your neck causing you to bite your bottom lip with a smirk.

"What are you doing?" you chuckled, tangling your hand in his hair as his lips traveled back up to yours.

"Just lay back and let me take care of you, yeah?"

#blueeyeddean #matt

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kali-tmblr · 5 years ago

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The Sisters: Parallels in the Relationships Between Yang, Ruby, Weiss, and Winter in RWBY

It's tempting just to run "Sister Stuff" on this space and be done with it, but the subject needs a bit more attention than that. Ruby x Yang and Weiss x Winter are not exact parallels. Winter isn't a straight-up Yang counterpart for Weiss. Yang and Ruby are two years apart. Winter and Weiss are six to eight years apart. Because of age and distance, the relationship Weiss has with Winter seems halfway between the relationship Ruby has with Yang and Qrow. Weiss relates to Winter more like the way Ruby relates to Qrow in Volumes 1-3 than the way Ruby relates to Yang. Weiss adores and idealizes Winter, but she really isn't that close to her in daily life. So while they are alike in some ways, in other ways they are very different.

Let's talk about the similarities first. We have two pairs of sisters. They come from families that have suffered trauma. All four girls want to be Huntresses, with the Big Sisters being further along with that goal, Yang by two years and Winter having gradated from Atlas Academy (a requisite for becoming a Specialist). Both Big Sisters are helping their Little Sister with her training, and are proud of her progress. Both Little Sisters show high levels of talent and dedication. Both Little Sisters adore their Big Sisters, but don't copy them completely. This is fortunate because both Big Sisters are emotionally damaged. Yang has PTSD from the Fall of Beacon, and Winter appears to be still traumatized from her childhood experiences. Having been in a similar situation I would not be surprised if she has PTSD as well.

There's a final set of similarities between Yang and Winter. Both women have tempers that have caused them grief in combat. Winter's signature move in Amity Arena, the one she opened her duel with Qrow by performing, is essentially the same one Yang was performing when Adam cut off her arm. Both women also start out with a tendency in battle to concentrate too much on their goal to the exclusion of their surroundings. This tendency cost Yang her arm at the Fall of Beacon, and Winter her duel with Qrow when she didn't realize Ironwood was right behind her. According to the information on her Amity Arena card, Winter had this tendency even before she enrolled at Atlas Academy, and has it to a greater extent than anyone else we've met except for Ironwood. Yang was able to overcome this tendency with the help of her mentor, Tai. Unfortunately Winter's mentor is Ironwood, who could use some help in this department himself.

But there's more contrast than there is parallel with these young women. Both families have suffered trauma, but the Xiou Long household has recovered and is healthier, in spite of the fact that it's the Schnee family that is "intact". Yang is an optimist, Winter seems to be a pessimist. Due to the difference in their ages, the way both Big Sisters relate to their Little Sisters is different. For Yang growing up with Ruby only two years younger than her, Ruby was her world. According to the Amity Arena card, for Winter growing up with Weiss born around the time she started school, Weiss was an afterthought. These two minor deviations combine to result in a significant difference in how the Big Sisters treat their Little Sisters. Yang is very protective of Ruby, whereas Winter vacillates between "tough love" and abuse, with an emphasis on teaching Weiss that she shouldn't expect anyone to ever protect her. I couldn't help thinking, at the end of Winter's introductory scene in Volume 3 that Winter's treatment of Weiss is not going to go down well with Yang. Honestly, I'm looking forward to that meeting as much as I'm looking forward to Winter meeting Weiss or Qrow.

(I understand that Winter is still reacting from her own abusive upbringing and that she is trying to do better, but she needs to work on it more.)

These differences are underscored in the Yang and Weiss character shorts from Volume 5. Both of these shorts have the same basic plot -- Big Sister gives Little Sister a training session just outside their house back before Volume 1 again. In the case of Yang and Ruby, this appears to be a clearing in the woods near their house. In the case of Winter and Weiss, this appears to be the courtyard of their house. Both Big Sisters state that they are giving Little Sister this lesson because Big Sister won't be around to protect them all the time. And that's about where the similarity ends.

Weiss' short opens with "Path to Isolation", the bleakest of all the Weiss songs. Weiss is practicing with her sword, killing wave after wave of Winter's summoned Beowolves, each preceded by a wave of very specific snow flurries on a cloudless night (a sign, perhaps, that Winter is the Winter Maiden?) while Winter watches from somewhere unseen. (Coincidentally, killing Beowolves is the same thing we see Ruby doing in the first trailer.) Weiss takes out about a dozen before losing her sword and going down. We learn that Weiss didn't perform well enough, but what we don't learn is what the target was. How many Beowolves did she have to kill to pass? How close did she get? Or was it a timed test, did she have to keep going for a certain length of time? You need to give that kind of information when you are coaching, otherwise the coach isn't doing her job. Expressing disappointment with no objective feedback can actually make the student worse. Curiously, Winter never touches Weiss, not even to hand her back her sword. Instead she sticks Myrtenaster in the ground and walks away.

Back on Patch, Yang's short opens with "Ignite", the cockiest of her songs. She is giving a very reluctant Ruby a lesson in weaponless combat. Hand to hand is Ruby's weakness, and while she she's content with that fact, Yang isn't going to let it rest there. Their sparring amounts to Yang attacking and Ruby dodging, until Ruby can't dodge a blow and uses her Semblance to run away. Yang looks for Ruby and finds an Ursa instead. Ruby comes back to find her sister locked in a tough battle with the Grimm that Yang eventually wins. Ruby is relieved that Yang won and distressed that she couldn't help Yang without a weapon. Yang hugs Ruby and, assures her that Yang will always have her back.

Both shorts begin and end with similar framing scenes revolving around runaways. Weiss is running away to Mistral hoping to catch up to Winter (who previously in a time-honored tradition among abused children, ran away from an abusive home by joining the military). Unlike the audience she is unaware that Winter has been recalled to Atlas, and her quest is in vain. Even so, her mood is more melancholy than hopeful.

Meanwhile, Yang is in Anima searching for Ruby, who has run away from home seeking answers in Mistral. Yang was too broken to say anything when Ruby left, but now she is well enough to follow. Her mood is hopeful and somewhat amused.

The major difference between the two stories comes down to expectations. Winter and Weiss have been taught not to expect people to help them unless they "earn" it by virtue of their rank and/or effort. The interesting thing about this assumed privilege is how Weiss uses it. We never see her try to use her status to get something after Blake shoots her down in their first scene. And while she does claim to have earned certain things by virtue of her hard work, the favors in question are all fairly ordinary things that anyone should be able to ask for by virtue of being a person. The most extreme example is when she questions Ruby's leadership position in "The Badge and the Burden Part 2". The question itself is legitimate, but premature, however Weiss is a teenager and "jumping the gun" is a common trait in teens. So it's interesting that in the first two volumes she thinks she has to earn the right through hard work to ask legitimate perfectly questions.

Winter emphasizes that she won't be around to save Weiss and that Weiss has to be able to save herself. This is true, but there's a big difference between being able to look after yourself and expecting that you will always have to look after yourself because no one will ever freely help you.

Ruby and Yang have a different expectation. As Ruby explains to Ozpin in their first meeting, she and her sister were taught to help people. This leads them to have two expectations. They expect that they will need to be able to look after themselves so they will be available to help others, and they also expect that other people will be willing to help them. This leads them to ask other people for help more often. Sometimes the people they ask to help them don't, with Raven being the most prominent example. But more often than not, they do. These different expectations are thrown into stark contrast when Weiss and Ruby run away from home. When Weiss runs away, she's on her own. When Ruby runs away, she takes Team RJNR with her.

(I'm not underestimating how difficult life is for abuse survivors trying to escape, just pointing out how it messes with your head over the long term. I'm over 50, and I still have trouble asking for help.)

Expectations lead to promises. It's interesting how Yang and Ruby approach promises. Yang promises Ruby that Yang will always have Ruby's back, and she keeps that promise to the best of her ability. This knowledge gives Ruby the confidence to push herself further. Does Yang always keep that promise? No, but it takes being maimed to stop her, and as soon as she can she is back to keeping it. In the meantime the confidence Ruby has gained from all the times Yang has kept her word has gotten her almost to Haven by then.

Ruby has promised Weiss that Team RWBY will be by her side every second in Atlas, and has acted to keep that promise at every step along the way. It's not a promise that can be kept forever. Eventually it's going to be broken. But by then the strength and confidence Weiss has gained from all the times it has been kept should help her go much further than she could have gotten on her own.

On a final note, the Winter we saw in Volume 3 might not be the Winter we meet again. As much time has passed for her as for the rest of the characters, and they have all changed. Weiss'disappearance may have shaken her, and she may either scream at her, or smother her with attention, or both. We shall see.

#rwby #rwby thoughts #rwby theory #rwby7 #winter schnee #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #rwby ruby #rwby roosterteeth

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