#physics 2nd week assignment answer

[oddcryptidwrites]

Hellooooo Athens! Happy Worldbuilding Wednesday m'monarch, I've got a question for you!

In that lovely bit about Commander Mateo, you mentioned something about the the Royal Guard Training Academy. As a fan of Worldbuilding my own military education, I'd love to know more about it! Where is it? What kind of people go there? What gets taught there, and is it just for the navy? How're graduates viewed by those they command, and are there alternative paths to officership?

I’m gonna answer this one first because I think it might be the most straightforward!

The Royal Guard Training Academy (or just the Academy) is pretty much the only way to officership, barring any extreme circumstances. It’s just as much of a way to train recruits as it is to weed out the weaker ones.

The Academy has two locations, the primary of which is located on the northern edge of the Southside/South District, with most of the dormitories and classrooms inside the Perimeter, and training facilities located outside. It can house roughly 7,000 recruits at a time, although numbers are usually closer to 5,000. The secondary location is on the coast near Savannah, and can hold roughly 3,000 recruits. It usually is at capacity. Anyone who wants to become an officer of any of the four divisions of the Royal Guard, or part of any auxiliary department, is required to attend the Academy. It serves as the primary public higher education for the state, and as long as you graduate and serve for two years, it is free. However, in times of war, any former graduate can be called back to serve, whether on the battlefield or in camp. The minimum age for enrollment used to be 18, but was changed to 16 in 2179. There is no maximum age technically, but usually no one older than 25 is a first time enrollee.

Semesters for the Academy start on January 2nd and July 2nd, with a weeklong break in the middle of each and two weeks in between. There's also several other smaller breaks within (1-2 days off). The first four months an enrollee attends the Academy consists of an accelerated review of maths, writing, civics, history, physical education, and various sciences. In truth, the enrollees aren't really learning anything; the Academy is just getting a feel for their individual skills. The next 2 months are spent in what is referred to as "rotations", where enrollees are able to pick and chose various classes to participate in and get a better feel for what they want to do.

At the end of their first semester, enrollees are given a report of their individual skillsets, as analyzed by the Academy. Enrollees are graded on 38 different skills, which then determines their future assignment. Different assignments require certain scores on certain skills. Of the Royal Guard divisions, Special Operations requires the highest overall scores, while Army requires the highest fitness scores and Navy requires the highest engineering and technical scores. However, Perimeter is the second easiest assignment to get into overall, beat only by culinary. From their available options based on their skillsets, enrollees are able to rank their assignment choices. Those who match the skillsets of their chosen assignments will be matched first, and some assignments (such as Special Operations) only take a few at a time, so it's not guaranteed a enrollee will get their first pick.

For those who chose a officer assignment in the Royal Guard, they are immediately considered "Enlisted V". All Perimeter assignments are moved to Atlanta, and all Navy assignments are moved to Savannah at this point. The year is broken into six week periods for Royal Guard enlistees, with a weeklong break between every two. Each period consists of intensive classes and physical training specialized to each division of the Royal Guard. At each break, enlistees are given the chance to "rank up" to the next level, eventually earning the "Graduate" rank. Upon reaching Graduate level, they receive their initial real officer assignment, although they will maintain the "Graduate" title along with their officer title until their proper graduation in the summer or winter. Most graduates become Private (Army), Ensign (Navy), 3rd Guard (Perimeter), or Agent (Special Operations).

(Grady was a massive exception to all of this, and was given the title "Lieutenant Commander" out of the Academy, as she was chosen to guard the Piers and become the next Commander of Special Operations by the Deputy Agents of SpOps (there's 16 of them).)

Auxiliary departments include (but are not limited to) medicine (doctor-level), nursing, mechanics, software, biological engineering, culinary, intel, etc. and actually make up a majority of the Academy's assignments. Some programs, such as the culinary program, only take six additional months to graduate from, while some (like the medicine assignment) can take five or six years. These assignments are a lot more rigid in their educational pathways, and it's rare to graduate early from these assignments. All of these graduates are assigned positions within the Royal Guard that match their assignments, and must serve there for a total of 2 years before being left to do their own thing. Many people do this, then go off to do their own things.

Anyway! There's the majority of your answer, and if you have any more questions, let me know!

[rogue--nation]

It's a third day of their work in Valparaiso, Chile. A beautiful city, to be honest. Simon rarely has time to take rest, but this mission Price has assigned him to was very generous for moments of calmness, even though they keep getting interrupted by something unexpectedly violent. Still, Ghost just didn't feel right about it all. Yes, he's always an outsider, but here... Here he is an outsider among the locals. He doesn't speak Spanish very well, so he barely understands what people around him speak of. Thanks to his companion that he was paired up with, he doesn't really need to do any talking whatsoever. When he just entered the briefing room back in El Paso, he noticed her instantly, because the cautious stare of her brown eyes was simply unbearable. She smiles, she says the sweetest things, pulling on a fake persona for communicating with people around. Well, Simon might be wearing a mask, but at least he has only one and it is visible. She, however, is like an actor on a stage, putting one mask after the other, trying to hide her painfully hollow exterior. He didn't trust her much at the beginning, just how people around him, mostly mexican operatives, didn't trust him, growing very suspicious of a newbie among them. But Ana kept acting in a very welcoming, even comforting way. Back then, when she was asking him questions, he had no idea they will be the only survivors in the team and that he will eventually save her life. Failed operation in Sonora turned out to be compromised by someone from CIA. They were voluntarily walking into the massacre.

Now he is standing by the window, watching the view of the coast being swallowed by falling darkness of the night. It's 2nd of November, last day of Los Muertos. So him and his mask fit these streets just fine. He is waiting for Ana. Or, how he used to call her... sergeant Reyes. But after all the things they've went through in span of a week... He couldn't keep such a formal distance. They've become friends. One of a kind, really. They turned out to have a lot in common, just their adapting mechanisms were built differently. Still, it didn't affect their ability to understand each other. Dark past, grey present... Lack of adequate social skills and interests outside their work... They're a trainwreck at it's best. But Reyes is way better at hiding it than him. Only once he saw her mask slip off and it was when she was heavily bleeding from a gunshot wound he had to patch and stitch up. That's when he saw that her scars were not very different from his own. Both physical and mental. Almost fainting, she kept asking him to say something comforting... But he couldn't come up with anything better that talking about purpose in life and how some people fail to find it. Unlike them. He said that they're lucky to have their own path... Oh, he wanted to believe that. But looking back, this lifestyle only brought him pain and disappointment, wounding him beyond any chance of repair.

Now, he waited for her to return from her meeting with leader of DBA team that worked in the city at the moment, collecting information on CJNG. They knew El Mencho was here and sooner or later he was going to put his plans to work.

Simon hears a far away blast and it makes him feel strange. He hears people's voices, almost like they're screaming. Was it an explosion? Or is it once again a part of some stupid parade they had just yesterday, filling the air with loud music and fireworks? Riley grips onto the windowsill, trying to see the smoke somewhere around. And he sees one rising above the houses far away. He gets nervous. Maybe, he should go out and check what's going on, but Reyes told him to stay inside and wait for her. Picking up mobile phone, he hopes that Ana will answer the call, but it's turned off. He decides to wait for while, like twenty minutes or so, but it feels like ages.

A knock on the door. Simon storms to open it and sees Ana at the doorstep. She's injured, her scratched temple is bleeding, her elbows and bare thighs covered in dust and and small shards of glass. Her clothes covered in blood still fresh. Reyes looks exhausted.

"Fucking hell", he let's out quietly, "What happened?"

"Meeting didn't go as planned. Bowen's already on it. I've met him", she looks at herself as she passes the mirror, "Fuck", she even looks impressed.

"Are you hurt?", he looks at her, shocked.

"It's not my blood. Mostly", Ana replies casually. Well, such things definitely are casual events for her, "Now we wait for instructions from Matt", she looks a little zoned out, as she leans onto the table. Riley keeps himself calm and doesn't try to help her. Physical contact is something he's never been very fond of. Especially without permission. Even Ana made it clear that she doesn't need help. But for some reason he wants to take care of her somehow. He tries to reach her with his hand, but she leans away, not even noticing that. Ana doesn't say a word and leaves to bathroom. Simon hears the water running. He tries to hold back, but he follows her, feeling uneasy. When he enters, he sees Ana sitting in the bathtub naked. She doesn't pay attention to him. Her knees are pressed against her chest, shivers running down her spine. The mask is off. Her eyes seem hollow, almost lifeless. Unbearable sadness is hiding within her. Water is slowly filling up the bath, turning pink as it mixes up with blood. Simon silently sits on the floor close to his partner. She doesn't look at him once. Almost like she's not even here. Or like she never was. Thin trail of blood is leaving her ears. Side of her face is caked with dried blood, sticking to her hair. Riley grabs washcloth and soaks it in water, then, he gently presses it against Ana's skin, washing away the blood. She shivers for a moment, closing her eyes. Reyes is not used to touch, especially a touch that gentle. Violence wasn't any new to her. But tenderness .. tenderness is something she has long forgotten. Ana doesn't speak, simply letting Simon do what he does.

"You keep getting yourself hurt", he says.

Ana slowly nods as if in confirmation. She purses her lips. Over the years, pain and adrenaline were the only things that made her feel alive.

"I'm so tired", her voice breaks unexpectedly. Suddenly, she sounds like a little frightened girl. Not a sergeant. She covers her face with her palms, her shoulders shrink.

Simon already saw her in similar state when he lost her in the crowd during the parade. For some reason a sight of people in masks gave her a panic attack. She was almost hysterical, when he found her surrounded by drunk confused tourists that thought Ana needed help. He was confused as well, but never asked what happened. She gripped onto his arm so tightly that night like she was about to die.

[roolsilver]

3:45am-I wake up for work. At work, I am assigned to train a new temp. The new guy spends his shift telling me how the deli chickens were talking to him when he puts them in the oven. He is apparently unable to follow simple directions that do NOT come from a chicken carcass, because he is useless in my area.

9:40am- 5 minutes before the end of my shift, my sister calls me in a panic. She is at a vet 40 minutes away, her cat had an abscess rupture on a preexisting tumor last night. They're working her in, but she's about to be late for work. The friend who was supposed to help her has not answered his door being beaten on for 20 minutes. I get there in 30 minutes, and receive her cat Biscuit, who I've met maybe twice. Biscuit makes his displeasure with my presence known for the next half hour from inside his carrier.

10:38am- When we are finally called into the vet, I am questioned multiple times about this being an outdoor cat(he's not). Biscuit has had a hard life- when my sister found him several years ago, he came with a shredded ear, facial scarring around his mouth, and FIV. He looks like she pulled him out of a dumpster, and that honestly would not surprise me, but his owners are the people promoting indoor cat life on Facebook as a hobby. The vet finally reads his history file and believes me. I cannot stress enough that this is not my cat, not my vet, not my rodeo.

I stand next to the giant sign that says 'Let our staff handle your pet during the exam for their safety, DON'T do it yourself', and I successfully hold my face in as the vet directs me to physically hold and manipulate this cat that isn't mine and knows it, instead of either of the professionals in the room doing it. I successfully avoid being bitten, using the carrier towel as a magic carpet to remove and replace the extremely offended kitty while he is distracted with treats. I am surviving despite the judgement of the vet, who thinks the tumor should be removed despite the strong opinion of the last vet who examined the tumor, AT THIS PRACTICE. I promise to pass on her opinion, as I am, for the fifth time, not the owner of this cat.

11:16 am- Visit successfully completed, I drive another 40 minutes to return Biscuit to his home. He is thrilled to never see me again. Emergency handled. Now I can go back to my actual plans. Back across town.

12:14pm- I pick up my brother and take him to the convenient care. Several people in my family have recently been diagnosed with Pneumonia, and my brother has a persistent cough. As the 2nd oldest of 7 siblings, I have a habit of feeding the others, so we get burgers. Surely now I can relax.

12:32pm- my child's school calls. Child was out all but one day last week with Pneumonia, and today is the first day back. It is the counselor telling me they're sending home completely unrelated paperwork.

12:42pm- my child's school calls AGAIN. this time it's the nurse. I forgot to send a doctor's note, and child is insisting they can't do gym. I approve skipping gym, and finally drop off my brother.

While he's waiting at the urgent care, I run to the plasma center, my ACTUAL plan for the day. I foolishly tempt fate, joking with the staff that nobody else is allowed to need me today. I will regret this.

2:28pm- as I am walking out of the plasma center, FINALLY able to get a cup of coffee without it risking the $50 payout from donating plasma(no high BP) my grandma calls me. She has been sick in her car and needs help getting in her house. She was half-carried out of the local Cracker Barrel and to her car by the staff. I work part-time because I am frequently her caregiver. My brother is still in the convenient care. My child gets off the bus in 1 hour.

2:46pm-my youngest brother, a recently hired hospital orderly, has agreed to help grandma. He gets her from car to house in a wheelchair, with a blanket to cover her. There is no remaining mess in the car. Grandma is now feeling fine, is able to clean herself up, and does not need me to come. I go to Dunkin Donuts.

3:15pm- my brother exits the convenient care. He does not have Pneumonia! He's coughing because he's not taking an allergy pill. I didn't know there was anyone in my family NOT taking an allergy pill. Both of us are frustrated, because he has just wasted his money because I didn't think to ask a very basic question when he was asking me for advice. I drive him home.

3:31pm- my child calls, unhappy because I want home to receive them. Dad was home. With a chainsaw and headphones. I arrive home in time to start filling out school paperwork that involves knowing child's weight at birth, and other such information I have long forgotten.

4:30pm- homework time.

Approx. 5:20pm- I finally sit down and take off my shoes for the first time in about 13 hours. It has been something like 3 days since 3:45am.

this isn't critters related (or is it) but in my dream last night you asked me to take a small orange kitten to the vet and I had to go on a grand journey through a half-abandoned mall with this kitten tucked under my arm but I just wanted to let you know we made it and he was fine

I have so many thoughts - I'm in your dreams!! - WE SAVED HIMMMM - dream cat distribution system - I wanna play this game on switch

[softdows]

HSC 2021 Physics Assignment Answer 1st Week | Best Solution

HSC 2021 Physics Assignment Answer 1st Week | Best Solution

HSC 2021 Physics Assignment Answer 1st Week, How are you all, student friends who want to participate in the 2021 HSC exam from the science department? The first of ten assignments in physics for science prepared by the National Curriculum and Textbook Board has already been published for you. HSC 2021 Physics 1st Paper We discuss today the first-week assignment solution or sample answer. Here…

[likhon1971]

Alim 2nd week Physics 1st paper Assignment Answer 2021 pdf download

Alim 2nd week Physics 1st paper Assignment Answer 2021 pdf download

Alim 2nd week Physics 1st paper Assignment Answer 2021 pdf download has been published today on my educations in bd com website. The Madrasa Education Department has released a two-week assignment for this year’s Alim candidates. Students have been asked to submit their assignments by August 9 at a convenient time following the hygiene rules. The Madrasa Education Department on Tuesday released…

[dailyresultbd]

HSC Physics 2nd week Assignment Answer 2021 PDF Download

HSC Physics 2nd week Assignment Answer 2021 PDF Download

HSC Physics 2nd week Assignment Answer Solution 2021 PDF Download has been published today on my daily result bd com website. Publish revised assignments of SSC candidates. Assignments of seven subjects of this year’s SSC candidates have been revised. The titles of four of these assignments have been revised. Some parts of the two subject assignments have been newly added. At the same time the…

[ladyonfire28]

Came back from my little break for that new article ! Here is the translation of Adèle and Aïssa’s interview for Libération. It’s a very long, but very interesting one. So i recommend to read it. There may be a lot of incoherencies so please tell me if something doesn’t make sense ! 

Aïssa Maïga and Adèle Haenel : «Finally there’s something political happening»

They stood up together at the César and have since been striving to invent a common front against all forms of discrimination. For "Libération", actresses Adèle Haenel and Aïssa Maïga retrace the journey of generational awareness.

Some kind of symbol. A large mural, in tribute to George Floyd, a 46-year-old black American who died on 25 May when he was arrested by a white policeman, and to Adama Traoré, who died at the age of 24 on the floor of the "caserne de Persan" (Val-d'Oise) following an arrest in 2016, was painted at the beginning of the week on the façade of a building in the 10th arrondissement of Paris. Close by, the Adama Committee organized a press conference on Tuesday. Words, demands and the announcement of a new march to fight against police violence. It takes place this Saturday in the capital, from the Place de la République to the Place de l'Opéra. The organizers dream of seeing a huge crowd come together. This demonstration comes at the heart of a tense period. Young people are demanding answers and action, while many police officers feel that the Minister of the Interior is letting his troops down in the face of the scolding.

In the street, we will find associations, politicians and many people. Adèle Haenel and Aïssa Maïga will be there. Not a first. They were already present on  June 2nd at the rally in front of the Paris high court. The actresses didn't really know each other before the last César ceremony, marked by the speech of one and the shattering departure of the other. Since then, they have never left each other. Both describe the moment as a "turning point". The fights converge.

When the idea of a cross-exchange came on the table to put words to their commitments, they did not hesitate. On Thursday, in a roadstead near Belleville, Adèle Haenel arrived first, followed by Aïssa Maïga. They are not of the same generation, the journeys and paths are different. The styles too. The one who got up at the announcement of the prize awarded to Polanski goes up and down, talks with her body. The one who, at the same ceremony, invited to count the black people in the room appears calmer, stays seated on her chair, speaks in a low voice. Adèle Haenel and Aïssa Maïga complement each other.

From where are you speaking?

Adèle Haenel: I speak from my personal political background, rooted in feminism, a background that is shaken by the worldwide movement around police violence and by the French movement around the Adama Committee. I would say that taking charge of my own history has given me the ability to deal with other broader issues that do not immediately affect me. I'm talking about a kind of political awakening. This desire to show my support for the families of the victims, for the political movement against racism and police violence in France, and for the actors who take a stand. I'm thinking of Omar Sy, Camélia Jordana and you, Aïssa.

Aïssa Maïga: This intersectional awakening evoked by Adèle is a place where I have been for a long time without necessarily being able to name it. For a long time, the racial question in cinema was so pervasive in my life that it cannibalized everything else. I felt that it was less difficult to be a woman, in a world that discriminates women, than it was to be a black woman. The work done by Afrofeminists in France and abroad put the words in my mouth that I didn't have because I didn't have that heritage. I am speaking from a place that is on the move and that is not made up of certainties, that is made of interrogations, especially about the fact that I can implement changes on my own scale. And I'm also speaking from a place that is purely civic and is tinged with various influences. I didn't grow up in a poor suburb, I didn't live in financial precariousness, I come from a rather intellectual middle class, it gave me certain tools, and yet I haven't escaped this very French thing, a soft racism, rarely seen but which is haunting... because it's omnipresent.

Why did you get involved with the Adama Committee?

A.M.: Because this is a fight for justice. It was Assa Traoré who came to meet me during the release of the collective book Noire n'est pas mon métier ("Black is not my job"). I knew her from afar, I knew her struggle, and she appeared. The support became obvious and it has really taken shape in the last few months. I was immediately impressed by this woman, her quiet strength, and this ability to forge a bond, to think of her family drama in political terms. Her voice matters. She's not just an icon: she allows a movement to emerge.

A.H.: For me, it's even more recent, I had to go through a problem that was going through me, that involved my body in discrimination in order to mingle with other injustices. I was listening to what Assa Traoré was saying and I was struck by her determination and intelligence. But it is only very recently that I also became physically aware that I could not fail to support this woman and the whole fight against police violence and racism, in the same way that I am taking up the fight for feminism and against sexual violence. I can't have it two-tiered.

On June 2nd, more than 20,000 people gathered in front of the High Court of Paris, at the request of the Adama Committee. An unprecedented turnout, with many young people, why?

A.M.: The Adama Committee saw very well the link between George Floyd's drama and their own. The death of Adama Traoré, choked under three gendarmes, was materialized before our eyes with the unbearable images of Floyd's death. The French youth who look at these images cannot fail to make the connection, it is obvious. There is also a form of accessible activism that is developing via social networks. Activists will involve others through simple, accessible sentences: if you are not a POC, you are still involved, it is your responsibility to listen and take an active part, at your level, in the fight for equality. There is also the idea that we need to establish a link between police violence, the racism that can be found in other social spaces, the issue of gender equality, the environment, and the urgency of dealing with these problems now. There is also a form of anxiety among young people: they are told that in fifty years' time there will be no more water. And finally the feeling of injustice, which is omnipresent and linked to the circulation of images on social networks. Police violence follows one after the other, and this creates an accumulation effect. It is not just a dogmatic political vision, but a reality that is lived or perceived as real.

A.H.: There is a turning point in the effectiveness of the movement as well. This feeling carried by Assa Traoré that we are powerful. It's not just ideas that go around the world, it's ideas that make the world happen. It gives hope and responsibility to a whole generation.

During Aïssa's speech at the Césars, in which she confronts the profession with the near-invisibility of actors, filmmakers and producers from French overseas territories and African and Asian immigrants in French cinema, you are in the room, Adèle. You don't know each other yet. Do you understand her speech immediately?

A.H.: It's obvious, but it's not immediate, it takes a little time to understand the extent of the racist mechanism when you, yourself, haven't been forced to see how it works. I was brought back to particular assignments, but not to this one. So it takes a long time before it becomes unbearable evidence. When Aïssa takes the floor, it's courageous because the room is very cold and it's making it even colder. I thought it was funny and I thought "finally, something political is happening".

Did you both understand that people find it violent to count black people in the room, and even that they might find it paradoxical to split the audience?

A.M.: Counting isn't splitting, it's measuring the gap between us and equality. When it comes to inequality, to be blind to color is to be blind to the social burdens that come from our history and the imagination that flows from it. I am fighting for art and culture to deconstruct racial fictions. In our field, cinema, there is a tendency to believe that when a few exceptions appear, the problem of racial discrimination is solved. I do not think that my presence, that of Omar Sy, Ladj Ly or Frédéric Chau, Leïla Bekhti, for example, however gifted they may be, exonerates French cinema from an examination of conscience. There is always an over-representation of people perceived as non-white in roles with negative connotations - and it's not me saying this, it's the CSA, through its diversity barometer. There are still too few opportunities for younger people, who today in 2020 deplore what I deplored when I was starting out. Still too few non-whites behind the camera and almost no one in decision-making positions. I started this job when I was 20 years old. I am 45. A generation, not a few exceptions, should have risen. It hasn't. And it's unbearable as a citizen, a mother and an artist.

At the César ceremony, I deliberately used a inflammable symbol. If we refuse to measure differences in access to opportunities in terms of racial discrimination, perhaps we are accepting the status quo. Today, we need concrete action by decision-makers and numerical targets in order to measure progress. A few personal successes, however brilliant they may be, cannot justify the violence of large-scale unequal treatment.

A.H.: The substance of what Aïssa said to the César is relevant, it speaks to the moment, and being shocking has the virtue of awakening. The criticisms that followed were "I agree but"... In fact, it means that even when the substance is right, the form is never the right one. It's a form of censorship, there are people who have the right to speak and others who don't.

A.M.: Allowing oneself to express anger head-on is taboo because we are actresses and we are supposed to preserve the desire that others project on us. And also because it highlights the precarious nature of this profession: are you able to overcome your fear, to express your opinion, with the risk of losing something?

A.H.: From my point of view, that of a white woman - forgive me for putting myself in this position, but it's still unfortunately an assignment - I see that when I spoke about what happened to me personally, I received a lot of support, especially from people who are not especially on our side. However, as soon as I spoke up, politically, to say that giving the prize to a rapist fleeing from justice was an insult, all of a sudden I was really overstepping what I was entitled to do, what I could interfere in...

Do you think there's a "white privilege"?

A.M.: Words are so tricky...

A.H.: When Virginie Despentes uses the term "white privilege", it's a bit related to Aïssa's gesture when she counts the black people in the room. It's a question of pointing out, by calling up words that should be those of the past, the gap between the evolution of universalist ideals and the facts of manifest exclusion at work. Provocation points out this flaw and invites us to close it.

Is there state racism?

A.M.: I don't know about "state" racism, it would have to be written into the laws to say that. The right word is systemic: it means that there is something that does not allow for real equality, something in the established rules that allows a small number of people to discriminate without being worried. What also raises the question is the inertia of the state in the face of the continuation of systemic inequalities.

From what you say, we are at a turning point in the struggle against racial, gender, social and other forms of discrimination...

A.M.: I felt the turning point in 2018 with #MeToo, Time's Up, and when I saw all these women from such diverse backgrounds (in the streets) after Trump's election. It was an image I had never seen before in my generation. It was in the United States, and yet something happened to me in France, because I had been dreaming of this convergence for a long time. I'm not here to defend my chapel. I'm not going to be satisfied with a breakthrough if blacks have more roles while Arabs and Asians are still in a degraded situation in French cinema. The convergence I'm talking about didn't quite take place at the time of #MeToo, which quickly became a white women's movement in my eyes. In French cinema, there is also the "50-50 for 2020" movement [collective for parity and inclusion founded in 2018, editor's note] that I saw coming like the guerrilla movement we had been waiting for for a long time, pragmatic, quick, positively impatient, very constructive. The work done in favor of parity is colossal. On the other hand, I regret that diversity is the next program. But it cannot be the next program for me, that is the mistake. I've talked about it very openly, and frankly in a fairly relaxed way with some of them.

A.H.: Much more relaxed than I was, by the way!

A.M.: And then I said to myself that the battles are progressing on different levels and that we're going to have to find some kind of alignment. The fight for women's rights is not just a women's issue, it's a men's issue, just as the fight against racism is not just about POC. And it wasn't until 2020 and the murder of George Floyd that there were those voices, especially white voices, that said, "This is my problem too." Including in France, where this awakening of consciousness is made possible by the work done by the families of victims of police violence.

A.H.: In my political journey so far, I had forgotten to understand the places where I am not just in a situation of domination. I am also, as a white woman who is not in a precarious position, in a dominant position in certain aspects. Understanding that, feeling that, is essential. My political agenda was focused on feminism, and I didn't realize that it was implicitly white feminism, unintentionally excluding. What Aïssa says seems fundamental to me: the agenda that would order one cause after another is not conceivable and leads to inertia. It leagues us against each other in identity issues that are sterile, since they reiterate the terms of oppression. This is a major issue in the effectiveness of political struggles: how can we mobilize without reiterating the categorization we are fighting against? This implies understanding that there is a deep articulation between all systems of domination and that there is a need to defend these causes in a cross-cutting manner.

Aïssa's speech on June 2nd, during the demonstration initiated by the Adama Committee, called for a fair, dignified and positive representation of minorities in the media. But who can judge what is dignified and fair? Only the ones who are affected ?

A.H.: Today, in France, female characters in films are implicitly white women: I have a much wider range of possible jobs than that offered to a black actress. But in my field of so-called universal women, very often, women are offered satellite roles around male characters. These roles take up what is considered to be the normal white female nature, of restraint and reification. What appears natural here is a cultural construction of identity that is done precisely through stories. This is one of the reasons why the political stakes of representations in the cinema are so important.

Is this a criterion for assessing or rejecting a work? What should be done with existing works that have been reassessed as problematic?

A.H.: Works must be recontextualized. They are not created out of nowhere, out of time. Let's question them! That doesn't mean that we stop watching them, but that we ask ourselves what their political substratum is and what they convey. Questioning representations is a sign of vitality. And that does not mean that we would no longer have the right to see these works.

A.M.: With this waltz of statues of slavery figures in the United States or in the French overseas departments at the moment, the citizens gives their answer. Either the work must be contextualized, in a museum or in a place with a historical explanatory note, or it must stand out.

Is it women, more willingly than men, who carry this convergence of fights ?

A.M.: I feel a change in the scale of our lives, a major turning point in the way we perceive each other and allow ourselves to hybridize in these battles. Regarding the massive presence of women from cinema in front of the High Court on June 2, I wonder. In particular about my own capacity to build bridges... while guaranteeing the visibility of the fights against discrimination against women or POC. How do we ensure that the fight against discrimination, for equality and equity, is as visible as the rest? I am not at all sure how to do this. But it has to be done. When, the day after the César, I received a text message from Adèle, even though we don't know each other, and she writes to me to say "I heard you. I'm here. Let's meet", it can be as simple as that.

Why did you send that text?

A.H.: Because of the solitude in this room. And the brave gesture of saying what she said on stage. We'd met the same evening and maybe I hadn't caught the moment, I was captivated by our own event... That is, what had happened after we'd, let's say..., gone to get our coats a bit earlier in the dressing room... (Aïssa Maïga laughs) And I thought, let's not forget the constructed gesture, the political intentionality of Aïssa in there. I wanted to get closer to her courage. So I think that we shouldn't talk about masculinity by saying "men", that we should consider masculinity as a field of organization of power with its own complexities, and its intersectional repercussions. I refer to Angela Davis' book, Women, Race & Class, on the issue of the difficult articulation between the civil rights movement in the United States and the emerging white feminist movements where there was a lot of racism. Why don't we think of ourselves as spontaneous and necessary allies between categories of discrimination, racial, social and gendered? We need to take the history of this division seriously in order to work on it and overcome it. As Assa Traoré does in an ultra-intelligent way when she says "Whatever your religion, your sexual orientation, wherever you come from, whatever your skin color". It is an invitation to self-criticism of our own movement. This is my discovery at the beginning of this year: the self-criticism of my history as a white feminist.

When you get up during the César, is it thoughtful or impulsive?

A.H.: This award was a claim to the right to do whatever you want as long as you are at the top. That is to say: rich white men who don't feel concerned when we talk about violence. What it means beyond sexual violence is that there are people to whom repressive laws do not apply. It's as if the police and the laws shouldn't act against them, but around them... And that's what you feel in that moment in the room. What happened on César night was a dissolution of the status quo. Now it's either you stay in the room or you don't stay in the room.

A.M.: And it was important to be there at the César, because I read a lot about boycotting that evening, but for me there was no question of backing out. A boycott is not just staying at home behind your television, not being there without anyone really noticing. It was important to say that the home of cinema is also our home, our space, our place of expression. We are in a position to speak out and for that to have the virtue of provoking discussion. When that person wins that award, it's the time of the turkey, where someone praises the rapist grandfather, when everyone knows. And you're breathless, you can't move, time becomes elastic, everything is extremely heavy, it's unreal. You enter another dimension. And the fact that a person manages to regain possession of time, to become master of their time and master of their body by standing up and saying no, it put oxygen back in, it woke us up. Adèle and I looked at each other two or three times during the evening, we knew we were together. There was something like a physical experience. We boarded the ship together.

We're spotting the allies.

A.M.: That's right. And time returned to normal when Adèle, Céline Sciamma and others, including me, got up. It was a coherent political gesture in which many people recognized themselves.

Do you think that your political positions, formalized at the César, can have an impact on your career?

A.M.: The question is how do you break a family secret? Festen is one of my favorite films. (Laughs) I wasn't born at the time of the 2020 César, it's the result of a personal journey and a legacy. Others before me have spoken, for example Luc Saint-Eloy and Calixthe Beyala on the same issues at the Césars in 2000. When Canal + and the César invited me to come and give an award, I said "yes, but I want complete freedom". Blowing up a family secret is a movement for self-liberation, it's an essential meeting with yourself. Choosing to be on the side of silence, of the status quo and therefore of injustices with full knowledge of the facts is something I was quite incapable of doing. The consequences for one's profession are not that one doesn't care, but spitting out what one has to say is a top priority. The question of what it is going to cost behind it is resolved by the feeling of freeing the word, provoking debate, making a generational contribution to the fight for equality, which in essence concerns us all. I have an appointment with myself around 60, 65, the age when my children will be about the same age as I am today. There is something about transmission. I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror. I don't want to tell myself that I haven't taken advantage of my little privilege of being a POC exception in French cinema to the detriment of all those young people I meet on the street, who aren't white and who say to me with fear in their stomachs, "Do you think I can still do this job?"

What about you, Adèle?

A.H.: The message that was sent to me very clearly by a casting director is that I will never work again. Obviously, this person was very sure of himself, since he wrote it in print capital letters about a dozen times. What do you say when you ask for respect and silence? They say, "Don't speak out politically because it's not your role". But also: "Don't take the lead artistically either because you're an actress, you have to follow the genius of your director". This whole structure is part of this culture where you shouldn't listen to yourself but to submit. I don't know what the consequences will be for my job. What is certain is that I will never regret it. We did something that night that freed the voices of a lot of people. That is worth much more than all the threats to my career, which in any case is always fragile, because it is a precarious environment. If I totally respected the rules and said, "Yes, yes, you have to separate the man from the artist", that wouldn't stop me from being able to get out of the game. It's as much about inventing one's life as trying to open up the future.

Written by Cécile Daumas , Rachid Laïreche and Sandra Onana. Photo by Lucile Boiron

[woman-of-culture]

The traitor (1/2)

Dabi x reader

Part 2

Warnings: Dabis identity, 3rd year age up, this does not accurately follow the plot when it comes to timing and character introduction, (most likely) a lot of grammatical errors

This is gonna be a 2 part story with the smut in the 2nd part! (Not to mention it’s gonna be much longer)

The semester is finally over! No more assignments and no more work so I present to you my first ever fanfiction. Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Words: 3,056

The League of villains might not have the best plans. Sometimes, they're poorly thought out, other times... Again, not all that effective.

From their poor managing skills to the attack on USJ where they consequentially lost the perfect nomu, their planning could use ‘some’ work. The leader, Shigaraki, being quite immature for his position, executed his plans prematurely and without much thought - oftentimes underestimating his opponents (even if they were just high school first years). Saying he has a ways to go from being the perfect leader would be an understatement.

But no matter how much you complain, you can’t ignore the fact that he’s also a valiant leader who fights for what he thinks is right, even if he does need some help along the way. That’s where you come in, being Shigarakis right hand (wo)man, alongside Kurogiri, wasn’t an easy job. Having to deal with his temper tantrums, being forced to execute a plan you didn’t 100% agree with and having your advice ignored completely most of the time wasn’t exactly what you thought joining The League of Villains would be like, but eh, nothing ever goes the way you want it to.

Which is exactly what led to this situation.

"So let me get this straight..." You say, whilst letting out an exasperated sigh "You want to kidnap and persuade, of all people, Bakugou Katsuki to turn on his dream of becoming a hero just because you've seen him compete in the sports festival?"

Not really getting your point, Shigaraki just nods with an assertive "Yes"

"No" You turn your back on him, disappointed he would even suggest this thought.

Narrowing his eyes, as if to challenge any further refusal on your part, he demands to know why you so vehemently refuse the suggestion of your next big mission.

Not at all wavering with your determination, you look him in the eyes, practically begging for him to understand how fruitless this endeavor would be.

"He might act...villainous when facing certain confrontation but he is solely focused on becoming the number one pro hero one day, it would take a hell of a lot more than just kidnapping and talking for him to turn his back on that dream. He’s determined, passionate and has a real fighting spirit. I believe if you really want him to join you need to break his spirit in some way, target him when he’s at his lowest"

Contemplating your words for merely a second he decided against listening to reason on the ground ‘It’s the perfect next move for the League to cause distrust among society, even if he refuses there will be chaos from the fact that we managed to capture a UA student whilst on a training camp.’”

Seeing no point in arguing further, you declare that you will have no part in this plan since:

1) You truly believe this will end up a failure

2) You are a student participating in the training camp and your involvement would be too risky

"Goddamn it, I knew I shouldn't have told you where the training camp will be held..." You mutter under your breath, as you look to Kurogiri, who has been silent during that whole argument, to open a portal to your apartment.

Exhausted and in need of some food, you trudge your way up to the small apartment you've called home ever since AFO took you in 4 years ago.

It was a small one bedroom apartment fit for one person, certainly better than the streets you've come to know so well during your years of desperation and homelessness.

A sigh of relief escaping once you managed to close your door and take off your shoes.

"Good evening doll."

"Good evening burnt rat, who I specifically warned not to come here anymore."

He winced, as if the comment actually hurt his feelings. "Ouch, why the sour attitude sweetheart?" Walking up to the couch, glaring at your ‘guest’ who had decided to make himself at home despite your warnings of dumping his body in the nearest ditch.

“You tell me Dabi, why in the world would you continue coming here after all my threats and the fact UA is 5 minutes from here?” “Isn’t it obvious? Despite your constant nagging, you never kick me out, you have a pretty fucking nice TV and not to mention you’re a decent cook.”

Ah, Dabi...one of the newest members of the League who joined not even 2 weeks ago. He’s a peculiar guy who comes to raid your fridge and annoy the shit out of you every other day, refusing to leave until the next morning to go God knows where. When it comes to the topic of kicking him out...you never seem to find the will to do so, whether it be the crippling loneliness forcing you to get some form of social interaction or the fact you find his company kinda enjoyable. Of course, you wouldn’t admit either to anyone even if it costs you your life.

You look at his form lounging on the couch in his pants and pale gray, scoop-neck shirt. “So, I’m guessing you ate my dinner again...?” You picked up his dark blue jacket that was lazily tossed onto the back of the sofa and made your way to the front door in order to hang it, just then noticing the dark dress shoes placed haphazardly next to the shoe rack.

With a sly wink sent your way he confirms he ate the tempura you prepared that afternoon. “But you know what? Could you be a sweetheart and make some more food? It was just so delicious but unfortunately not all that filling.” He asked, hoping flattery will get him some more food.

Looking into the fridge you could physically feel a headache coming when you confirm no tempura in sight. You would feel more frustrated if a brilliant idea didn’t come up that second. “Listen Dabi, let’s make a deal.” You turn the corner, ready to give him an ultimatum. “Oh? Where is this going? In exchange for some of your cooking I’d eat something else out first?” He tries to guess, suggestively lifting one eyebrow whilst crossing his arms at the back of his head.

Stopping in your tracks, you look at him speechless, the blood rushing to your cheeks undeniably creating a faint pink blush.”W-what!? No, you asshole! T-tomorrow are final exams so I wanted to suggest you spar with me and after I’d cook anything you want.” In what little time you knew Dabi, that was the first suggestive comment he has made towards you, breaking your thoughts for a hot second - enough to make you stutter during your protest.

Looking proud with the pink he managed to conjure on your cheeks, he closed his eyes with a smirk on his mismatched, pale-burnt lips. “Don’t know ‘bout that doll, sounds like too much work and I’ve had a long day.” He groans to emphasize his point.

“Ok then, starve”

...

“Well, actually-...”

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

The next day, during the practical exam, you ended up with Jirou against Present Mic (I’m sorry Koji but plot) which you managed to win with ease considering Dabi helped you strategize. Not to mention he gave you tips on how to improve your quirk which you implemented in the battle only to end up victorious. You’d probably need to thank him later.

Whilst reminiscing on the event, Aizawa enters into the classroom informing that no one will be left out of the training camp, but the ones who failed will receive harsher training. He gave out lodge guides and all the information needed (which you of course knew thanks to sneaking into the teachers lounge after hours) Everyone also decided to go on a shopping trip to buy the necessary things for the trip, with the exceptions of you, Bakugou and Todoroki.

Worrying about the events that will transpire did you no good so you contently walked home thinking of going to the store for some ingredients in case a certain uninvited guest decided to show up again.

Thinking about what will inevitably happen reminded you of the fact you haven’t visited the bar since your little disagreement with Shigaraki. ‘I guess I can’t blame him, even if Bakugou doesn’t join it will still provoke some fear and distrust among the general public, I guess I should apologize to him...’

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

“TOMURA!” The bar rattles with the impact of the door against the wall, barely keeping itself on it’s hinges after the kind of force you used. The people inside the bar looking at you with mixed emotions, some shocked, some indifferent and some enjoying the drama. Spinner, Toga, Dabi, Magne and Kurogiri silently looking at you for answers to their unanswered questions while Shigaraki looks at you completely shocked for he has not yet seen such an outburst from you.

“Wasn’t this supposed to be your plan? How careless can you be? In order for a stunt like this to succeed you’d need to be extra careful and methodical. Yet, what do you do? You confront Midoriya at the mall as if it wouldn’t have consequences”

“Oh, that’s all?” He returns to his planning as if you didn’t almost break down the door.

“What do you mean ‘that’s all’? Do you understand how irresponsible that was, you could have gotten caught! The whole mall was swarming with police officers literally 5 minutes after your little ‘chat’.”

“They wouldn’t have caught me even if they showed up that instant, if you used your brain you would remember that Kurogiri could just teleport me out.” Scratching his neck, clearly done with this conversation, he turned to walk away to get some quiet to finalize the plan in peace.

“You don’t get it do you? Aizawa announced the camp will not be held in the forest lodge it’s usually held every year because of this ‘incident’.” You explain taking a step to his form that stopped walking the moment those words left your lips. He turned, the scratching getting more violent by the second. “Well, where is it then?”

You don’t want to admit it but the way he looked at you, as if it was your fault the camp relocated, sent a chill down your spine. “I don’t know, the new location won’t be revealed until we get there.”

“Then you’ll send your location the moment you get there, is that so hard?” You felt your anger and frustration bubble the moment he dismissed the problem as if it were nothing, however you continued your calm-ish facade. “Tomura, I’m begging you to understand! With this there are a lot more unknown variables. You won’t have time to prepare, to get to know the layout, the schedule, anything! You’ll be going in there blind, this is definitely not a safe plan for the members. What if some of them get caught? What if-...”

You weren’t even able to finish the rest of your concern before he yelled out for you to shut up, that it was none of your concern since you weren’t apart of this mission. “We will simply have Dabi burn down half of the woods so they won’t know what’s going on, the rest only concerns the participants of this plan which, again, you are NOT, now LEAVE!”

You looked Tomura in the eyes, tears welling up in yours due to the sheer frustration of the situation. Did your opinion really mean so little to the man? You wanted nothing more than the success of the League, to fulfill your debt to AFO for saving you so many years ago. Sometimes staying up past 3 AM helping with whatever you could just because you felt as if the League really needed you. Were you really so useless to the man before you, who you would consider a dear friend, family? He ignored your advice, existence even, except when he needed insider information. You were quiet most of the time, rarely giving resistance to the point your bottled up feeling reached their limits. You lifted your head, a single tear making its way down your face as you uttered your next words.

“I will send you the location, I will figure out the schedule, I will inform you on everyone's position during the attack but just know this Tomura, your carelessness will shoot you down from that pedestal you made for yourself. You’re childish, immature, naive and juvenile. If you continue thinking you can do all of this alone it’s gonna cost you your life, the members lives, masters life-...”

That was the trigger...the last straw that finally diminished his last nerve. Lunging at you with all five fingers ready to disintegrate your arm as a form of cruel punishment. It was like slow motion, not really thinking of this outcome proved to be your downfall as you could only watch his hand getting closer.

20 centimeters...

10 centimeters...

5....

Oh fuck...

As if God heard your prayers, an arm found it’s way around your waist, pulling you to a lean, muscular chest while the other grabbed Shigarakis, pulling it away from your form and pressing his hand, that was moments away from your trembling arm, onto the counter, decaying a part of the wood until there was nothing but dust left.

The shock of the situation being felt all around the room. You didn’t fully process the severity of the event until Dabi let out a low growl, ready to use his quirk if need be. Looking up his face, situated not even 5 cm away from your own, you saw the burning fire behind his glare directed at Shigaraki, a threat, daring him to move a single finger in your direction.

In any other situation you’d pull his arm off, threatening to cut it off. However, this wasn’t any other situation. His warmth providing a sense of security you’ve never felt before, making you wish it could stay there just a minute longer. His natural musk invading your senses, calming your pounding heart to the point you almost forgot the predicament you got yourself into.

All too soon, he let go of you only to pull you behind his back with his arm stretched to the side, blocking the view of your leader with his back. Relieved, angry, confused, terrified... You couldn’t exactly categorize your feelings, the information not fully processed in your mind. You grabbed onto the back of his jacket as a means to get closer to him, scrunching it between your fingers to keep him where he is.

Whilst this was going on, Shigaraki looked at his hand, eyes wide open. For a few seconds he couldn’t fathom what he just tried to do. He looked at your form, cowering behind Dabi who only glared daggers at him silently questioning his actions.

“Out.” was the only word able to come out of his throat, not knowing how to deal with the consequences of the previous moment.

Not needing to be told twice, you ran out of the bar as fast as your legs could take you. Stumbling on your own feet, chest heaving and vision blurry you didn’t notice the set of footsteps following behind you until a hand reached out stopping you in your tracks. You panicked, kicking at your assailant in an attempt to get free.

“Calm down, would ya? It’s only me...” Turning around, to face what you had correctly presumed to be Dabi, you lunged out of his grasp narrowly missing the wall behind you.

“Why did you do that?”  “What do you mean why?” He looked at you, not understanding the point of the question. “I mean... Why did you jump in to defend me? This was between me and him. Don’t get me wrong I more than appreciate your help but why... You ran the risk of a fight, not to mention injury, just because i provoked him.” You said, your gaze following the trail of his body further down till you reached his black shoes.

He scoffed, as if you just uttered the stupidest sentence he has ever heard. “Provoked? What you did in there proved you have some serious balls. You pointed out the flaws in the plan and confronted hand-job about them. You prioritized every ones safety over some mission and even put yourself at risk by ultimately agreeing to the plan and sending vital information that will be used.” He took a step forward, lifting your head between his index and thumb caressing your cheek along the way to hopefully calm you some more if his words didn’t help.

“That being said, you should still have some faith in us, well, in me specifically.” He smirked noticing the corner of your lips twitch up at his comment. “I’ll burn down every obstacle, every hero that comes in my way so you won’t have to worry so much.” Finally, pressing his forehead to your own he managed to fully calm your nerves, unintentionally, you also synced up your breathing to match his.

You looked at his beautiful teal colored eyes unable to focus on any of your surroundings ‘Were his eyes always so mesmerizing?’ You felt your eyelids droop almost closing them by the time he took your hand in his and started to lead you down the road. “H-huh? Wait, where are we going?” “We’re going to your apartment to eat something and sleep, perhaps watch a movie to forget today.”

You look at the man in front of you, his coat waving with the wind to make the moment just that much more special. Has he always been like this? He actually made the effort to defend you, to run after you when you thought nobody cared. He assured you that what you did was the right thing and plans to make you forget what happened today. Did you finally have someone that cared for you?

“Yeah, sounds good”

(A/N This was my first ever attempt at writing so I hope I didn’t flunk it TOO bad. And I’m not all that satisfied with this but eh... I feel bad for having to cut it short, but I actually got requests to do more stories and I’m bad at multitasking so I’m terribly sorry for the precious users that sent me requests and the readers that want a part 2, maybe)

[sesskagarchive]

Do y’all happen to have an Drabble fic recs? I’ve just been in that kind of mood lately 😊 Also I wanted to thank y’all for all the effort and time you put into this blog! I hope y’all are having a lovely morning/day/night!❤️

You’re very welcome, my dear, so glad to hear you’re enjoying the blog! I hope you’re having yourself a lovely week! 💙💙

Here are a bunch of recs of Drabble fics I gathered for you, with the amazing help of everyone on Discord! 💕

A Blue Ribbon by Millarca / Stella Mira

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: “It all began with a blue ribbon. She sparked his curiosity with her peculiar habits. He awakened her lust with his alluring nature. Can this develop into something more than mere physical attraction?”

A Dreadful Development by Niglia

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: Post-canon. Sesshoumaru needs to learn the virtue of humility – and who is more humble than Jaken? His predicament only gets more complicated when he seeks a miko's help. A story told in 100 words snippets. Status: WIP

An Unconventional Courting by Millarca / Stella Mira  

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: Sesshoumaru appears and makes a courting proposal. Kagome will have many hardships trying to figure out what exactly prompted him to make this outrageous offer and come up with ways to avoid it. Told in 100 word drabbles.

Caniche by Elvis  

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga Rating: MA Summary:   Coffee-shop AU, set post-ending, Kagome stays in the future, semi-canon,  eventual smut. Slow burn told in 100 word snippets. There. All your  bases. Covered.   Status: WIP

Caught Astray by Kagome Yuki Niwa

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: T Summary: Kagome was dead and Rin could not accept that - neither could Tenseiga it seems. Helpless to either call, Sesshoumaru brings the wayward miko back to life with no memories of who she is. It was going to be the last time the Western Lord listened to a sword of all things and Rin's ridiculous 'puppy eyes'. A Series Told in 100-200 Word Ficlets~ Status: WIP

Clutter by forthright

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: T Summary: AU. Mrs. Higurashi decides to help her daughter put her life together; enter Sesshoumaru, professional organizer extraordinaire. A romantic comedy told in 100 word snippets. COMPLETE

Crooked Teeth by Silver Standard Society

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: T Summary: Through usual mishap, Kagome's been separated from the group. Through unusual circumstance, Sesshomaru has decided to return her. Unless, you know, he kills her first. A long story told in short snippets.[Complete]

E Pluribus Unum by Drosselmeyer

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: When winning against Naraku takes everyone from them, Sesshoumaru and Kagome find themselves suddenly thrust together and trying to survive their grief as they figure out how to get rid of the completed jewel and move on with their lives.

Lord Charming by forthright

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: T Summary:  CU. More than Sesshoumaru’s pride took a blow when he lost his arm. He’s in a delicate position… and desperate enough to seek the advice of a self-proclaimed expert. A clumsy romantic adventure told in 100-word snippets.

Love Lessons by Himura Asami

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: T Summary: Sesshomaru is a high school senior who needs a little help finding his intended before he goes off to college. He meets the perfect person to guide him, only she loves to push his buttons. Well, it's either her or his Father, who's being fed speeches by 2 insane women who crave grandchildren. A story told in 100 word drabbles.

Mood Stripes by forthright

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: T Summary: In the aftermath of the Final Battle, the victors lick their wounds and look ahead. However, a misspent wish on the Shikon-no-Tama changes minds, hearts, fates… and colors. SK. Canon Divergence. Status: WIP

On Unexpected Love by Drosselmeyer

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: It’s by chance that they happen across each other again, but it’s by choice that they don’t let each other go…  A reunion fic   Status:  WIP

Petite Problems by Kagome Yuki Niwa

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: T Summary: Sesshoumaru never expected to meet a smaller version of the miko from his past as he ventured through Tokyo. Now that he has curiosity drives him to study the creature and how she managed to slip through his grasp all those years ago. This action began the Misadventures of the Petite Miko and a Curious Taiyoukai. Status: WIP

Promise to You by elevenharbor

Posted on: AO3, FFnet Rating: K Summary: A story about cherished friendships, a mother's redemption, a father's undying love, and a forgotten promise made under a particular willow tree. Told in 100 words. [Prequel to "The Moon is Beautiful"] Status: WIP

Puzzle Pieces by MissKatt

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: T Summary: Drabble Series! After a severe blow to the head, Kagome thinks she's back three years in the past; collecting the jewel shards before Naraku does. How do her friends tell her otherwise? More importantly, how does a certain taiyoukai convince her that he's the one she loves, not Inuyasha? Follow their adventure as Sesshoumaru recreates his favorite memories with his miko! (Won 1st Place Best Serial 2012 2nd Quarter Dokuga Awards!) Status: Abandoned

Resistance is Futile by Shastuhh

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga Rating: T Summary: A submission for the October monthly prompt by the SessKag Blog. This month’s prompt is Fear. Kagome has had enough of being Kidnaped and threatened she had decided it is time for her to learn to protect herself. Who will help teach her? A story in DRABBLES

Secretly A Prince by sesshomarusama33

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: **COMPLETE** A life of secrecy - Kagome, a daughter of a wicked and jealous mother, secretly cares for a wounded white dog she found while running her daily errands. A life of shame - A Great Prince tricked into a smaller version of his demon self, hides from his Kingdom and silently waits for death. The pair unexpectedly meet, and even after he has recovered, Kagome finds herself drawn to this beautiful creature and continues to seek his company, revealing parts of her horrid life with him. A story told in 100-300 snippets.

The Moon is Beautiful by elevenharbor

Posted on: AO3, FFnet Rating: K+ Summary: AU - What started out as an assignment turns into an adventure that neither Kagome nor Sesshomaru expected. As they seek answers and find their way back home, they discover certain truths about each other and how a particular object binds them in more ways than one. Told in Drabble-ish series. Status: WIP

The Sorceress by Tsuki no Tennyo

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: (Serial Snippets) A mysterious shop promising to grant people's greatest desire appears before Sesshoumaru, but he is more interested in the strange sorceress that runs it. Status: WIP

When Comes the Rain by Drosselmeyer

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: They read together when it rains. But in the quiet and peace of these stolen moments, something neither of them could have predicted begins to grow.. Status: WIP

[jarofsharpies]

❄️ winter studying challenge ❄️ 2nd january

so it’s been uhh over a week since i last posted anything study related… i was ill over christmas so that’s why (not covid related) and i’m still on some hefty meds because of it! still have to do this assignment though as no word back about an extension to the deadline… anyways, hope you’re all well and safe. i hope 2021 is kinder to you than 2020

have you made any new years’ resolutions?

kind of? i want to get physically stronger, perfect choux buns because i never get them right, definitely reconnect with a few people

(still answering the questions i missed below for all you nosey people❤️)

25th december - merry christmas! tell us about your day!

it was pretty great even though i was ill, still managed to help my parents make a crackin’ christmas dinner and had a wonderful video call with my sister and sister in law to open presents together!

26th december - what do you do the day after christmas?

in the uk it’s boxing day, so usually a walk, my mum always wants to do another christmas dinner or fricassee, board games, terrible tv and/or films

27th december - what was the best moment 

being able to speak to my grandparents and my sister + sister in law despite them not being able to come to us for christmas…

28th december - what are you grateful for?

my family, their health (even if mine is shit at the moment), my friends

29th december - christmas or new years

This is so tough!!!!!!!!!!!! honestly christmas because it basically lasts longer and exchanging presents idk

30th december - what is your best memory from 2020?

probably getting feedback from my placement year… i was anxious as hell going to france and teaching english but my supervisor said such nice things i cried when i read what she’d put!

31st december - would you rather stay home or go out on new year’s eve?

i used to go out every year and to be honest now i enjoy the staying in more, my sister hosts a great nye party

1st january - happy new year! what did you learn in the past year? 

i learnt that i need people and shouldn’t shut them out, and that i don’t need to show everyone every part of my life: it’s not a performance nor a competition

[crumburoo]

It came in 3 unassuming moments in his life. If asked, Pro hero Ground Zero will deny the possibility of a guardian angel until his dying breath, but the 3 letters he so carefully stored away in a shoebox inside his cabinet beg to differ.

The first letter he received was way back in middle school. It came the morning their homeroom teacher was due to discuss their selection for high school choices. Katsuki woke up as usual, had breakfast with his dad and his usual screaming match with his mom. After his bath, he went upstairs to prepare for the day. There, sitting unassuming in his desk, was a letter addressed to him. A girl did give him a letter yesterday. Probably another confession letter, he thought smugly, but then he remembered that he exploded that thing yesterday, causing the girl to cry and run away from him. Curiosity now piqued, he opens the letter and on it were written the words "Don't be an ass. Don't let them tell him that he can't make it."

"The fuck!?" was Katsuki's first thought, but he was quickly taken out of it when his mom yelled for him to hurry up, otherwise he will be late. Tossing the letter inside his drawer, he quickly gets himself ready for school. "That shit can wait" he mutters to himself.

In school and to no one's surprise, Izuku raises his hand and says he plans on applying to UA as well. Immediately, his classmates start snickering and makes fun of the "quirkless wonder." Katsuki used to bully Izuku in the past, and still does on occasion, but him taunting Izuku has since lost it's appeal. He doesn't start them anymore, but when prompted, he always gives out a little insult here and there.

Izuku stammers and nearly shakes, but he doesn't back down even when his homeroom teacher tells him to select a more "realistic" school of choice. It was then that Katsuki remembered the mysterious letter he received that morning. "Don't be an ass" the words kept repeating itself in his head.

-- "atsuki, what do you think!?" One of his classmates bumps his shoulder, likely trying to get him to make fun of Izuku. Izuku, who was crying silently but hasn't made a move to concede his dream of going to U.A. Izuku, who used to be his childhood bestfriend. Izuku, who was since diagnosed quirkless and has since been the subject of ridicule at his school.

In a strange mix of pity and reluctant awe, Katsuki opened his mouth and said "Tsk, leave the loser alone. If he wants to get killed that badly, then let him apply for U.A. As if he'll get in anyway." Izuku looks at him slackjawed, but as an impromptu leader within the classroom, all of his classmates decide to drop the subject.

After school, Katsuki goes straight home and takes a nap. When dinner time came, his mom casually mentions that she and her friend, Midoriya Inko will meet tomorrow night for some spa date. Katsuki just dismisses his mom's rant, but then Mitsuki casually says " Oi brat, Izu-chan called too, says he wants to say thank you. I didn't wake you up cause I know you'll be pissy. The hell did you do?"

"I didn't do shit, old hag! He said thank you to me, why are you assuming I did something wrong!?"

"Because you're you" is his mom's retort. After dinner, Katsuki locks himself in his room and thought back on Izuku's phone call, getting a weird sense of accomplishment all the while.

The second letter came during his 2nd year as a high school student. Katsuki and Izuku both got into U.A. It was a surprise to everyone when Izuku somehow passed the entrance exam. Still quirkless, Izuku did poorly on the physical part of the exam, but aced the written part, barely scraping enough points to get into the hero support courses. Katsuki and Izuku have since developed a tentative sort of understanding regarding their "friendship." If asked, yes they knew each other, but other than that, they never sought each other out. It was a weird thing, being apathetic to the existance of your once childhood bestfriend, but Katsuki and Izuku make it work. Even though Katsuki hears Izuku's name in passing, he never seeks out the nerd.

At U.A., Izuku's penchant for anything hero-related was considered endearing and not a total nerd-alert, so much so that Izuku has grown comfortable in his own skin. Before long, he started having friends of his own. Izuku has long since accepted the fact that he has no quirk, but still wants to do work in the pro hero circuit, so he decided to enroll in the hero support program at U.A.

During their second year, Katsuki's homeroom teacher mentioned that in preparation for their future pro hero careers, they need to get acquinted with other works related to their chosen field, which means that tomorrow, they will be working with the hero support students to work on possible support items they can use.

Katsuki trudges to his room at Heights Alliance and decides to do his homework before hitting the gym. There, stuck between his math and hero history notebooks, was a letter with his name on it. Immediately remembering the note he got in middle school, Katsuki hurriedly opens the letter and reads it. It was a lot longer than the first, with notes on always being careful and not being complacent about his own goals. What caught his attention though, was the footnote. Written in red ink were the words "it's okay to be confused at times. You're still young, so you got time to figure it out."

Katsuki hurriedly calls his homeroom teacher and asks permission to leave the dorm and go home for the weekend. Aizawa doesn't see any harm in it, and quickly agrees (if only to get Katsuki off the phone).

Morning comes and Katsuki is bored out of his skull. When Aizawa-sensei faced the class and started introducing the support course students, Katsuki was casually listening but felt himself bummed when Izuku wasn't with the class. Perhaps he was doing this shit with class 2-B, Katsuki wasn't sure. "Well, I can just make fun of Deku's scrawny little ass next time", Katsuki thinks. Aizawa then starts assigning their class with their support course partners, when a mop of hair pops inside their classroom and asks if this is the 2-A class. Katsuki looks up just in time to see Aizawa use his capture weapon to shush the mumbling support course student who was spouting excuses as to why he was late. Aizawa then releases his capture weapon and loudly exclaims "and just for that, you will be assigned to my problem child. Row 4 aisle 3, you'll be working with Bakugou Katsuki."

This is it, Katsuki thought to himself. He's screwed. As Aizawa lowers his capture weapon, Katsuki is immediately assaulted by Izuku's blushing face, likely embarrased from being called out by a pro hero for his clumsiness. What he was not prepared for, was the sight of his childhood friend. No longer a scrawny kid, Izuku has hit a growth spurt and has since learned to do basic toning exercises by the looks of it. Somehow, he's also developed a sense of style cause his hair is no longer an unruly mess of green hair, but it was shaved a bit at the edges and is parted, accentuating his dimples and the freckles on his cheeks.

Izuku hesitantly walks up to him and gives him a tentative smile. "H..hi Kacchan" Izuku stammers. Katsuki was not prepared for Izuku's smile. Not wanting to show his internal freakout, Katsuki says "you got tall, but I'm still taller, nerd" and then Izuku full on laughs at him. It was then that Katsuki realized that Izuku's laugh maybe has a nice ring to it. It was literal years since he heard that laugh, and he was not assaulted with good childhood memories. Nope, not at all.

The thing was, Katsuki has since come to terms with his sexuality. Sure, he dated men and women before, but he somehow leaned more on the masculine side when choosing his dates, and he is starting to realize that his once scrawny childhood bestfriend's smile makes him feel prickly but in a good kind of way.

Katsuki was brought out of his musings when Aizawa began to drone off on what they should do for the next hour of class before zipping himself up in his sleeping bag. Izuku then picks up Aizawa's queue and starts asking Katsuki questions about his quirk. It was then that Katsuki started to notice the little things, like how Izuku's drawings and note taking have gotten more meticulous over time. How his line of questioning about the intricacies of his quirk were more profound. No longer was Izuku always rambling about how cool and powerful his quirk is, he's now able to spout information on how he thinks Katsuki's present hero costume can be altered, so that he can get rid of his bulky gauntlets while still maintaining the same level of firepower he always had. Katsuki was left with nothing, but to answer the questions thrown his way. Before he knew it, the one hour mark was up, and Aizawa-sensei was emerging from his sleeping bag on the floor.

"Uhm, thanks for not exploding me there Kacchan" Izuku rambles. Wide-eyed at how the (not) nerd looks, Katsuki just grunts and says "whatever." Izuku takes it as some sort of sign and just smiles and says "So I'll need your number so we can meet up next week." That got Katsuki's mind reeling and immediately tries to think of reasons why Izuku of all people will ask for his number. He's taken out of his internal monologue when Izuku says "Oh wait, it's probably better if I email you using your school email handle, atleast I can send you progress reports on your costume upgrades. Well, I'll talk to you next week. See ya!"

With that, Izuku and his entire class all bow their heads and Aizawa sheperds them outside the classroom, probably to talk to them for a bit.

After class ends, Katsuki decides to forgo his training and holes up in his dorm room, just staring at the anonymous letter in his grasp. He's kinda screwed. He knows, but he grins despite himself. He's looking forward to the weekend, when he can keep the second letter he received together with the first.

The third letter came that morning. Fast forward 7 years, with lots of problems, misunderstandings, and a whole lot of crying (on Izuku's part, Katsuki swears), he and Izuku have managed to repair their ruined friendship and has since learned to exist together in the same room and even work together on occasion. Katsuki graduated as one of the Big 3 at U.A. and Izuku was scouted by a support company during his third year internship, and has since been working with a reputable support item company right after graduation.

Katsuki has come to terms with the idea that yes, his longing for his childhood bestfriend was not as platonic as he used to think (I'm just making up for lost time), but rather because he may or may not have developed romantic feelings for the (not) nerd. After finding out from class 3-A that Katsuki was bi, Izuku has been smiling at him more, and has even invited him out several times, always in the guise of "Kacchan, I want to discuss some possible costume upgrades, are you free?" And if they just so happen to meet up at some chic coffee shop or a cute cake shop, then it is what it is.

7 years into their tentative "friendship", Katsuki was hit with the realization that he really likes Izuku, and wants to ask him to be his boyfriend. So last week, he casually invited Izuku to their favorite izakaya that's situated in between his hero agency and Izuku's company. After arriving at his apartment to prepare for his "not date", he notices a letter in his mailbox. Seeing the same envelope and lettering, he quickly runs inside his room and opens his cabinet. Underneath his spare boots, he takes out the shoebox containing the first 2 letters he got. All the same envelope, same handwriting, and Katsuki has yet to figure out who sends these to him. Not wanting to jinx it, Katsuki sits on his bed and opens the new letter. The only words written inside was today's date, the restaurant he was supposed to meet Izuku in, and the words "Go to the other place" in bold black letters. Katsuki snickers and calls Izuku and tells him to meet him at that restaurant that serves Katsudon instead.

Later that night, while Izuku snuggles with Katsuki on his couch, Izuku jumps up and says "Oh yeah Kacchan, I forgot to tell you, but that izakaya we were supposed to go to got attacked by a villain earlier! Good thing Red Riot and Uravity were on patrol so they got everything under control! Can we drop by tomorrow? Check things out" Katsuki just snuggles into Izuku more. "Sure nerd, whatever you want."

-- end

PS: Now if only I can work out some details as to who is Katsuki's mysterious letter sender. A Katsuki from an alternate universe? Katsuki from the future sending his past self some dating tips? I'll leave it to your imagination 💚🧡

[ghost-writing]

The Monster 2/?? - August Walker fanfic

This is a re-post from my other blog... I’ve decided to post my writing on a separate page, it’ll be easier to access like that.

I’ve edited this a little, but there might still be some spelling mistakes & grammatical errors. (English is not my 1st language!) So, if you see something that irks you, please tell me! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PART TWO - Breaking

Word count: 3.2k  (The bit below the 2nd gif was labeled “part 2.2″, and titled “Interlude at the office”, but it’s quite short, so I decided to not make it separate anymore.)

Warnings: Sex (unprotected), rough sex, a certain dose of violence (including light choking), SMUT, swearing and bad language. And August Walker. (The Kingstache deserves its own warning.) And it’s probably full of typos and redundancies.

Part one can be found here!

He texted her around midnight. He had tried to not give in, resisted for almost a week, but he needed to let some steam off tonight. And he thought he liked her, which was angering him even more. She was a good investigator: smart, could think outside the box, and did not take shit from anyone, not even him. He used to like that about Sloane: she commanded respect. She did not deserve it, though. He did not know yet if Annie Franken did, he had not scratched under the surface enough. But after the month he had spent here in Brussels, he could say that he almost enjoyed working with her. At the very least, she made this dull case more acceptable. He had been offended when Sloane had given him the assignment. He felt it was an insult to his previous accomplishments. And the case would last months. At least, he’d get to travel around Europe. And since that night, he thought she was another perk.

Less than five minutes into his first meeting with the captain, he had requested to see the whole team’s files. He wanted to know exactly who he was working with, especially as it was his first time working with the Nexus. The man in charge had refused, but he went higher to get them, and he got them. Detective Franken’s dossier was heavier than the others, almost as thick as the captain’s. Apart from the chief, she had been there longer than everyone on that team, which was why she was in charge, and his direct liaison officer.

She had been in a little more trouble than the others, too. Nothing important: some insubordination (from what the redacted report seemed to say, she had been right, and her senior officer got fired shortly afterwards), and a one-time misconduct while handling a criminal in her care (he was lucky to still be alive, but he had it coming). He smiled thinking about the pics of Denizio, the “victim”: covered in bruises and scratches, a couple of deep bites, a dislocated shoulder, and multiple fractures (nose in two places, left side of his face smashed in, seven ribs, and right ankle). He was impressed: she was a fighter, and a nasty one. He had searched for the video of the incident, but had not got to it yet. He didn’t doubt that the evidence had been deliberately lost, to avoid her too much trouble.

The file also contained a lot of praise: from her former chief in the federal police, and her current one. Thinking back of his first meeting with the man, all these compliments, the twinkle in his eyes: the captain admired her, maybe even had a crush on her. August understood the appeal: good at her job, and a nice rack. Maybe too virtuous, at first sight, but he could smell that there was something hidden under the surface of that porcelain skin. Something wicked. He could see it as clearly as his own darkness.

So he stole her psych evaluations, and got disappointed when he read them. All pristine. Not in an obvious, “I’ll tell them what they need to ear” way. She admitted some problems, discomfort, insomnia, anxiety even. But she had a degree in psychology and criminology: she could’ve been faking it. He listened to the tapes: she sounded genuine. Articulate, but still confused by her feelings and reactions at times. Not the reactions of a control freak, just someone genuinely trying to understand herself, and better herself. He particularly disliked the way she was bouncing ideas off the shrink, as if he had been a wall to play against. No, actually, it’s the guy he hated. He either talked too much, or didn’t ask the right questions, the ones he would’ve asked her. And she seemed to like that bespectacled poster boy of blandness. He thought for a moment that they had fucked in his office, but after a really quick check, he found out the man was a closeted gay.

And so, an hour ago, he parked his car in front of her building, trying to calm down after Sloane’s phone call, a fire burning low inside him. He texted: “Are you at your place? Can be there in 10.” He knew she was in: shortly after his arrival, she got out on the balcony, sipping a drink, looking at the horizon, stretching her limbs, trying to unwind after a long day. The answer he got ignited something else in him. “Sure.” Not yes: sure. Sure, you can come over and fuck me. Sure, I’m waiting for you, CIA. Sure. He was panting, raging. He tried to steady his breathing, which took some time. He gripped the wheel tight, his knuckles turning white. Concentrating on the air filling his lungs, then escaping, slowly. Better. Blank face, blank mind, the August Walker way. Never give too much, to anyone. So tonight, he was going to take. And he made himself a promise.“If she has changed from that black t-shirt and sweatpants from earlier, I’ll take everything I want.” He too needed to unwind.

He got out of the car, slowly making his way to the 3rd floor apartment, still breathing in patterns, not to snap too quickly with the pretty doll upstairs. He knocked, looking at the floor. Seconds stretched, and she finally opened the door. She was barefoot, naked legs, dark red satin starting a few inches above her knees. A short kimono, belt knotted tightly around her waist, modestly covering her ample breasts. Sexy, not slutty. He felt his cock twitch. She still sported the same ponytail she had earlier, but she looked younger than at work. Probably the absence of the constantly furrowed brow, which was a common look in those offices, anywhere around the world.

Pushing past her, he entered without a hello. He heard her protest: “I did not invite you in!”, and made his way into the living room.

“I am not a vampire, I don’t need your invitation.” Thinking to himself “What you are wearing is one, anyway.” He heard the door close.

“Yeah, you give more of a werewolf vibe, actually…” His cock twitched again. He turned to face her, menacingly backing her against the wall. “Doll, you have NO IDEA”, he thought.

He towered over her, a nasty look on his face. He was so close she could probably feel the warmth of his chest, though they were not touching yet.

“Don’t you like a wild beast?” He breathed her scent deeply. “Damn, you smell nice, doll!”

“Do I look like a poodle lady?”, she jested.

And all hell broke lose inside of him: he slammed his body into hers, pinning her against the wall, making her gasp from the physical shock. He grabbed her wrist in his left hand, and opened the kimono with the right: she was wearing a dark red satin balconnet bra that barely covered her breasts. He grabbed her ass: a thong. All assorted to the robe. “Something for guests.”

She was pushing her hips towards him: he growled, less than an inch from her mouth now, but instead of kissing her like she wanted him to, he bit her throat and sucked viciously. She yelped : the thought that this man could hurt her, or break her in two with ease, crossed her mind, but she was still aroused. And she could feel that he was too. She could feel his heart beating in his chest. The thought of August Walker having a heart made her chuckle, and he growled some more as a response to her silent joke. She ran her free hand in his hair and, wanting to kiss him, she grabbed him to make him move towards her face. But he snatched her wrist, brought both her arms above her head and held them secure in his gigantic left paw, still nibbling on her throat. He unbuckled his pants with his right hand, undid the zipper, moving away from her just enough to look at her heaving chest, moving up and down rapidly with desire. Her nipples were peaking out of the satin, now, hard as rocks.

He brutally yanked her thong, and she felt the elastic band clap on her hip. She almost told him that those cost a lot of money, but decided it was wisest to just go with the flow, right now. She got distracted almost immediately anyway: he took his cock out and penetrated her without holding back. As she was dripping with anticipation (she had been since receiving the text, to be honest, running to the bedroom to change out of her comfortable sweats, into something more appropriate for a booty call), he slid his entire length inside her with ease, up to the hilt, and stayed still for a few seconds, looking hungrily at her round tits, biting his lips at the sight of her exposed nipples. He let go of her wrists, leaving them tingling with the sensation of blood circulating again in her veins, and pushed the satin robe off her shoulders and arms. She let it slide off her, feeling it brushing the back of her legs as it fell to the floor.

Suddenly, he pushed the vase and the decorative bowl that were placed on the sideboard next to them, sending them crashing down, and lifted her with his other arm to sit her on the wooden piece of furniture, still inside her. He then planted both his hands on the wall, on each side of her head, framing her, leaning in, his forehead touching hers, pushing her shoulders closer against the cold surface, and he started moving his hips, back and forth, between her thighs, wide open for him, increasing the speed every few thrusts. She moaned louder, and tried to grab his shirt to open it.

“Don’t.”

That one syllable made her blood freeze, and she took her hands off him, grabbing the edge of the sideboard outside of her legs instead. He was grunting like an animal, a huge bear completely enveloping her with his frame. She had always liked big guys, she liked feeling small in their arms and under them. She didn’t need a man to protect her; it was more about being shielded from the outside world for a moment, forgetting everything but the man fucking her senseless. And this large grizzly was very good at that, even if he was rough. She liked rough. She preferred a bit of pain than feel nothing at all.

But the bear man was inflicting more than a little pain, now. His eyes were still fixed on her breasts, dark with rage, his thrusts becoming violent. His lips occasionally sucked at her nipples, more often his teeth bit into them, but he was mostly looking at her breathing in and out, slightly smiling when she’d whimper in protest. And as she started to cry a bit louder, a visible grin was adorning his face.

He stopped pumping into her, grabbed her with one arm around her waist, carrying her next to the couch. There, he pulled her off his cock, savoring her gasp, and put her down. Her legs were slightly shaking, but she did not try to hold onto him for balance. She had understood that he was in a foul mood, and did not want to be touched. “Good girl.” But he was still raging, not feeling like calming down, and she would pay the price for it, even if she behaved. But he was sure that she could take it. If she had wanted him to stop, she would’ve fought back, and he’d be in a similar state as that “poor” Denizio guy.

So, instead of feeling sorry for her, he turned her around, bent her over, and parted her legs with his hands, guiding her ankles with a feet. He slapped her ass once, twice, three times. She let a scream escape only with the first blow. He pushed her forward, so that she ended up kneeling on the sofa. But instead of letting her upper chest rest on the back of it, he grabbed the base of her ponytail in his left fist, and yanked, silently ordering her to look at him. And as soon as her eyes met his, he slid his cock back into her, making her moan loudly. He saw fire behind her pupils: she was enjoying this. Thus, he fucked her, hard and fast, into oblivion. And her cries of rapture grew louder and more desperate. He let go of her hair, seizing her elbows instead, pulling her to him, allowing him to go even faster. She came, but it still wasn’t enough for him, so he let go of her arms, and shoved her face in the seat, pushing her back with both hands. She was screaming now, her petite body jerking with each thrust. He slapped her ass some more, leaving big red marks on her pale, soft flesh, and vigorously took hold of her waist, knowing perfectly well he’d leave bruises, feeling pride at the thought.

She felt him withdrawing, turning her around to face him. She was a rag doll in his hands, unable to think for herself. Not once had she fought him, asked him to stop. She thoroughly loved being used by him. He could take whatever he wanted, right now. And he did: he bottomed out into her, making her howl, a throaty wail after her prior screaming, and pinned her down with his hips. His right hand lifted her leg up, allowing him deeper access into her cunt, and his left hand caught her throat. The surprise of his touch made her climax, her whole body shaking, her eyes rolling in her head, her back arching, her walls clenching on him. Thereby, he huffed and puffed as his own orgasm built, and swore profusely as he pulled out of her to come all over her belly and her breasts.

Both out of breath, they looked at each other, panting, completely spent. She saw a light in his eyes, hoped he would just collapse on top of her, and finally kiss her, but in an instant, his expression changed. He got up, tucking himself back in his pants, rearranging his clothes, smoothing his messy hair. And without one last look at her, he got out, his words slapping her face.

“See you at work tomorrow, Franken.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day had been long, just like the rest of the week. She still couldn’t sit down without wincing. She couldn’t sit down at all the first day. And she had to wear a fucking turtleneck to hide the bite marks and the hickeys he had adorned her neck with. Her whole body was covered in bruises, purple finger prints on her wrists and forearms, on her hips, on her ass. She was raging inside, and he was there, working like absolutely nothing happened.

He did not avoid her, they still exchanged about the investigation, they had prepared a necessary trip to London. But it felt different than the week before, the week after that first night. Before, she had noticed his gaze, a furtive smile; once, he even had asked her if she wanted tea. But now, he was distant. Or maybe she simply wanted him to be closer.

She was angry about all the marks left on her, and she definitely would’ve preferred to be able to sit normally, but it was the way he left that hurt the most, and how he acted now. She wasn’t a fuck toy to discard after use. She didn’t want a relationship, she just wanted him to acknowledge her existence in a decent way. Say hello, and kiss her before, during and after making her climax like she hadn’t in a long, long time. She could’ve been nice to him too, reciprocate. Because whatever August Walker tried to pretend he was, deep down, he was human too. Probably. Or maybe he was just a psycho.

She could see some signs: the manipulation, the violence. She wasn’t sure about the lack of remorse or guilt. She felt he was wearing a mask, not just covering up a mistake. Doing what was expected of a cold, calculated man. But she had seen glimpses of humanity in him. He had grabbed a fantasy book left by Simon on his desk, and had smiled as if remembering the first time he had read it. She heard him hum to a song played on the radio while on a stakeout, thinking she was asleep. Not a robot, just a character he was projecting, for protection most probably. She could relate: she had tried that, but could never maintain it for too long. She still joked, she still cared. And she needed to come out for air after keeping a serious face for too long. Just like she could not let him get away with using her like he had, not without saying something.

So tonight, after sending Simon and Niklaas home, she confronted him. He was finishing the cold pizza they had earlier, mumbling about anchovies.

“How did that broom get stuck so high up your arse?”, she asked, a fake incredulous look on her face. He almost chocked on a tiny hairy fish, and he fumed.

“I’d really love to ear that story. Please, tell me how!” She batted her eyelashes, simulating fascination.

“I’m not playing this game with you…” He dropped the slice back in its box.

“No, of course not. I can’t take control of the conversation, that would belittle you, wouldn’t it?”

He remained silent, stood up and walked towards the door. Before he got there, she aimed and fired: “You lost control the other night.”

He stopped in his tracks, turned around.

“I did not.”

“Yes, you did. I had zero control, I left it to you, but you lost it anyway. If you had not lost it, you would’ve pretended. You’re a great pretender, Walker, that’s part of your job. But instead, you acted like a little boy who can’t help breaking his toys.”

“There”, she thought. He twitched when she called him a boy, almost catching fire. And right after, a flash in his eyes. Regrets. Just a hint, before snapping back.

“You enjoyed it.”

“I do like it rough, yes. But I don’t like being treated like a cheap whore.” She got on her feet, moved slowly towards him, stopping just an inch from his tall frame. “I’m not cheap in any way.”

Looking down on her, August wrapped his arm around her waist, resting his hand in the small of her back, drawing her closer to him. Almost tenderly, if it wasn’t for the hardening cock in his pants, rubbing lightly against her belly. He breathed in slowly, before what must have felt to him like spilling his guts.

“Let me take you out while we’re in London. For dinner.”

She pushed away from him, moving towards the door.

“No.” She got out of the office. “See you at work tomorrow, Walker.”

[bellamygateoldblog]

So, I read a lot of your personal posts and I'm just really curious about you. You seem very stressed out and tired all the time. Are you a college student? Are you just in a financial situation that necessitates that you work all the time? I just feel bad because It seems that you do not absorb joy very much. Like, I have seen that you recently started watching that show The 100. You seem very pissed off about it and yet keep watching it? You confuse and intrigue me. Explain?

"it seems that you do not absorb joy very much" has been playing on my mind ever since i read this. It hit something close to my heart.

I know i’m not obligated to explain anything and i don’t tend to put my life online (i don’t have any social media, so that should give you an idea of how secretive i usually am) but i literally stayed awake for 30 hours straight before sleeping for 15 hours straight and of course i don’t feel very well after that lol. I feel like i need to talk through some things that i’ve been keeping to myself for a long time. Get it out of my head, stop carrying it around, maybe gain some control over it.

I never intend to make anyone feel bad though, but i don’t have anyone to talk to so i guess i sometimes make those posts as a substitute for someone listening. Or for me being pissed about the 100, i think that’s my mood translating into what i end up posting in general.

Anyways this is A Lot. I obviously don’t mind if you read it. Advice would be nice, if anyone has any.

I’m a 2nd year university student. Due to severe mental illness (often making me physically sick and exhausted) these last 2 years have been extremely difficult so that's left me in a very intense situation essentially just trying to ensure i pass the year. That means handing in all the assignments i deferred basically all at the same time, after not attending the year at all. Like no lectures, no workshops, no lessons, nothing past the first month of semester 1. It's really not an ideal situation and my condition isn't improving the way i thought it would (you know when you think ‘this is the worst it can possibly get’ and then it gets worse?), and i can't focus. I’m resourceful and naturally decently smart, so i’m able to still pass a year of uni without...going. I’ve become less capable over time but because of other life experience i don’t place value on academic excellence anymore and because of covid there is a benchmark anyway, where my grade can’t drop below a 2:2, so basically i’m good as long as i don’t recieve a fail grade on anything. But that being said it’s still really hard to get things done anyway despite this? especially with depression and concentration issues, because uni in general just makes me really unhappy and disrupts my entire life, and i’d rather do literally anything else.

I can’t function whenever thinking about school in general. If im stressed about something i can’t think about anything else and it ends up seeping into other things im doing.

I have a really clear idea of what i want for the next step in my life and university is the only route available to get to so that’s why i’m still going through all of this when i could technically just ‘stop’. I’ve explored other ideas already and it appears even more stressful and complicated to make a huge change now. Even though i know 3rd year will be harder (which is also a source of stress, anxiety over what’s to come when im already struggling...).

I've been talking to my uni the whole time and while they've been understanding and accommodating (psychology department...like...they Know lol), there's only so much they can do to help me. Everyone i’ve spoken to is genuienly amazed i am where i am, but imo my resilience is bourne out of pure spite not to let my life fall apart along with myself LMAO. I have one assignment deadline left which is tomorrow. It’s the hardest one yet, i haven’t started and i’m filled with dread, and i’m so burned out i have no idea how i’m going to get it done.

To give some context about the whole ‘i can’t help myself when i’m under stress’ thing: I’m a really feminine girl. I have health and beauty routines that i like to stick to, but i can’t stick to them right now so i don’t feel like myself. There is nothing more to my life than stress and depression. I’m pretty sure i experienced dissociation for a few days last week. It was like i didn’t exist.

Just so happens that when i thought i could finally have a break from the extreme stress there are exams coming up on the 11th, which my uni has for some reason decided to make harder!?!? And i need to tell you that because it’s been bugging me ever since i recieved the email. They've completely changed the exams from being 1 hour long multiple choice tests (multiple choice is so easy smh) to basically a group of short answer questions we have 24 hours (each!) to write and submit and it’s seeming like i’ve got another 5 assignments to do after already writing 7 in the past month. It’s open book while the January exams were closed but it still seems to me like the students who didn’t defer (who did the exams back in January) got an unfair advantage over those of us taking them now due to our own circumstances. So I’m confused and upset about that, and about the thought that i probably won’t even get a break before 3rd year begins.

My living situation doesn’t make it better. It’s a really negative and emotionally draining space for me to be in. Just adding to my being drawn to negativity, and my own sensitivity. And covid has made everything that much more complicated, with everything changing and being closed etc. I’m completely alone btw, there is no one i can lean on.

As for the 100, that’s really tricky. I actually stopped “watching” it last year and now mostly consume it through fandom tumblr. I'm just not in the right headspace to sit alone and watch such a heavy show (clearly LMAO). But I’m so comfortable in this circle of fandom & love my mutuals, so i stay. I am actually liking a lot about the final season, like they’re delivering everything i wanted them to lol, but it’s so flawed and easy to complain about when you have a predisposition to be a Negative Nancy all the time so here we are.

I think i don’t really talk so extensively about shows I really love because i feel like i don’t have anything substancial to say about them besides ‘i love it’? Like i just sit there and happily watch and the farthest i go is commenting gibberish love confessions in the tags of a gifset i reblog. So most of my posts end up being me being petty or something. I do want to focus more on shows i love but like i said...it’s so hard for me sometimes to be all-positive and pretend i’m not completely crushed?

I really just want to not be so stressed and exhausted all the time. I want to do something besides worry about and/or do work. I’d love to clean my space & take a shower & read a book without a nagging anxiety in the back of my head. But i have to wait it out, and then wait it out, and continue waiting it out because it feels like things are going to be this way forever or get even worse.

I’ve had a lot of good luck lately though, and i don’t know what your beliefs are but i think someone is watching over me.

[softdows]

HSC 7th Week Assignment 2022 PDF Download All Subjects | Best PDF

HSC 7th Week Assignment 2022 PDF Download All Subjects | Best PDF

The Department of Secondary and Higher Education HSC 7th Week Assignment 2022 PDF week of HSC Exam 2022 for the students of all government and private colleges of the country who wish to participate in the HSC Exam 2022. August 29, 2021, HSC Exam 2022 As per the routine of publishing the assignments of the examinees, all the information including the notification regarding the publication of…

[likhon1971]

SSC 2nd week Physics Assignment Answer 2021 PDF Download

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SSC 2nd week Physics Assignment Answer Solution 2021 PDF Download has been published today on educationsinbd com website. This year’s SSC / Equivalent and HSC / Equivalent candidates will have to assign only three elective subjects as per the rearranged short syllabus. And the irregular candidates who failed in the previous year only have to do the assignment in the group based election. No…