Shawn said he would love to hear Alicia Keys do a cover of Ruin if he could get any celeb to cover one of his songs
What's your perspective on love and what does it mean to you?
I think love is so raw you can't be specific about it and there's so many ways to feel, see, and hear love. In life, emotions can't be too certain and to truly feel love you have to know what it's like to be upset and hurt. I don't really think there's much explanation for it. It's the best emotion"
favorite thing about touring?
the fast paced, moving to a different city everyday, lifestyle. It's exciting and fun.
"When I'm nervous, I have a punching bag in my room, I blast Kanye West and I hit the bag really hard."
if you could go back and watch one concert what would it be?
Jimi Hnedrix at Woodstock
First concert and what age?
Believe it or not, I was 14 and it was Aerosmith.
how do you feel about your birthday being the same day as international cat day?
I didn't know that, that's awesome.
Elephant( Shawn said in a previous Q&A that him & his mom will get matching elephant tattoos )
goals for the next 5 years?
to stay consistent and keep producing quality and the rest will come.
What's your favorite dad joke?
idk i don't really have a list off the top of my head. Is that a thing?
Will you play in Ottawa?
Yeah, I will
have you ever googled yourself?
All the time!!
what's your favorite song to play?
this is my most asked question and it's always Bad Reputation
Pairing: Finn x Reader, Balor x Reader Summary:His
eyes, his normally oceanic eyes, were no longer the blues of the sea,
but matched the attire he had on his body. His pupils were past being
blown, the black covering his eyes almost entirely, save for the
crimson red that had spider-webbed its way out from where his irises
should have been. Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: Nothing I think in this part…? I’ll tag warnings in each individual part though. A/N: So originally I had this as an idea in my head for like, a 500-700 word drabble… and whoops, here we are with what will probably end up being a series. The first set of text in italics is a flashback, the second set is a dream. Hopefully they make sense.
Also, this series is dedicated to the very lovely and dear @castielscamander. Without her, this may not have turned into anything and she has been such a huge help for me fleshing this out. Babe and Bubba forever.
GIFS NOT MINE
the word that not only was I being called up to the main roster, but
to Raw specifically, was a dream come true. I remember Hunter pulling
me aside at one of the NXT TV tapings and letting me know I had to
pack my gear up after this last set because I was heading to the red
brand and just… sobbing into his shoulder. Not my finest
professional moment, but at least he knew how badly I wanted it. I
made my debut a week before SummerSlam last year and put all the
girls on notice, letting them know that things were going to be
different now because The Ringleader was there to run the show.
just over a year of being on the main roster, you’d think by now I
would have gotten used to it all; the get-up-and-go schedule, the
flights, the driving, the almost non-existent days off. It sure was a
lot different than how things were in NXT, yeah, but having this
career was all I had thought about since I was literally eight years
old. It’s something that I felt was in my blood and a part of my DNA,
so if that meant I had to acclimate to functioning on an average of
three hours of sleep and living out of a couple suitcases, then so be
one thing I still hadn’t gotten truly used to? The mercurial nature
of Finn Balor’s eyes.
How about some kink Headcanons for Ciel, Alois, Claude, and Sebastian?
He absolutely loves having his dick played with until raw, specifically the head.
After he’s climaxed multiple times just keep squeezing his head. Drives him wild. It’s slight pain mixed with pleasure. He’s not into anything crazy though.
He’s into ass. Being able to hold a fine piece of behind while in bed or being able to house his stiff dick between those cheeks is great. Something about having his erection held in soft warmth keeps him hard and thinking on it all day.
He has a foot fetish. He enjoys having his licked, sucked, rubbed and will do them same for his partner.
He really enjoys rubbing his partner’s privates with his foot. If they’re a female he won’t hesitate in pressing his big toe into their slit.
What really keeps him throbbing his bending his partner. Testing their flexibility and how far they can last that way while he screws them. Pushing the limits is always pleasing.
Dominance. He enjoys being the one in control regardless of his position (top or bottom he’ll give it to you good.)
That said he enjoys it when his partner begs for him. Beg for his body and state how much in need they are.
He kind of has an obsession with Sebastian to the point he’ll make his partner say he’s better than the other butler.
Anal. He’ll settle for a bit of anal when he’s in the mood to hear his s/o scream.
Ah, the gentleman of the bunch. Pft. He is definitely a leg man. Pair those legs with heels, lacy thigh highs and you’re sore for the rest of the night.
Very much into doing it in public places. Since he’s a Demon he’s better at sensing if other are near unlike his s/o. The chances of getting caught excites him and he’ll keep going until the last possible second. Supply closet? He’ll use it. Leaned over the dinning room table? He’ll pound away.
The most enjoyable form of obtaining information is through sex. It leaves the person he is with vulnerable and makes his job easy. They’re more likely to spill the beans. How easily they let themselves be seduced and bedded is what he really likes.
Arcane fire burns only as hot as the amount of magicka a person puts into it. Thus, experts of destruction might adjust how much of their magicka they channel into a physical spell to maybe boil a kettle of water, cook meat or burn a building to the ground. Novices and apprentices spells tend to be unchecked and uncontrolled, resulting in short bursts of whitehot fire that can do a lot of damage to themselves and the surrounding area if not properly supervised. When practicing fire spells there is always a danger of accidentally setting yourself alight, especially if the caster is distracted (say, in the heat of battle) as it not only requires willpower to focus your raw magicka into a specific form but also a clear mind.
So yes raw eggs are a problem but! There are cookie dough recipes specifically made for being eaten raw! If i can find mine I can send it but if you Google specifically "raw cookie dough recipe" you should find one without egg that still has a very good texture!
I…I’m not going to lie to you anymore..It was from a box. I bought a box of cookie mixture, mixed together what it says and then I ate it.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: HERE is another follower’s request, but this is a FOLLOW UP, chapter to the Laura Story which was called, “Taking Laura”. This is a link to that Chapter: Laura’s First Chapter It will open in a new tab or window, depending on how you roll, I do so love HTML.
I should tell you that the subject of this story, is a self-confessed wonton slut. IT has told me IT is made incredibly wet reading this story and IT is made even more wet knowing that all of you are seeing this dark fantasy and know how IT is effected. IT wants you all to know this.
Laura had been living and unimaginable held for over 12 hours and there was no end in sight. She’d held on for nearly 45 minutes before the first orgasm had overwhelmed her. She had fortunately been able to release silently, breathing heavily through her mouth and nose in lieu of the moment she wanted to moan.
The next orgasm came a mere 20 minutes later. She was able to breathe through that one and the next three that came after.
After that it took longer and longer to achieve the orgasm and they were more painful as they came. In addition, her muscles, unable to unfold themselves from the position she was in were beginning to scream at her.
It was in the fourth hour, exhausted, in agony, when another orgasm ripped through her body that she’d let just the slightest moan escape her mouth. The repercussions were immediate and electricity again coursed through her body. She twisted and contorted in agony and her mouth again opened in a silent scream. When the electricity ended, she collapsed in her bonds panting heavily and unbelievably another orgasm began. And again, unfortunately, she made another sound.
When her captor had been enjoying the show immensely as he drove her further and further from her home. Headed in a generally easterly direction he preceded at a leisurely pace that would have him out of the country in a short amount of time. Occasionally he would glance in the rearview mirror, or even look over his shoulder and watch his victim as she twisted helplessly in her chains.
The control box had a light to let him know when various functions were going so he had an idea when she was being vibrated or shocked as he drove. He was amazed at her resilience and how long she’d held out before she’d made her first mistake and earned her a shock.
They were passing into Germany when he noticed a particularly powerful orgasm pass through her body and then a shock immediately afterwards.
She was going to be so much fun. Pity he couldn’t keep her.
13 ½ hours after leaving the outskirts of London, they finally arrived at their destination.
Laura had traveled the world so she understood the significance of how long they’d been driving. The man had been relentless in his driving, stopping for less than ten minutes twice in their entire trip. She’d not been able to see any signs but she knew they must have traveled though several countries by now.
That meant she realized just how slim her chances of being found now were.
Laura would have been shocked to realize they’d actually passed through the tip of France, Belgium, the Netherlands, through Germany and were now in Poland.
Her assessment of the possibility of rescue were indeed accurate.
The chances of her being found by anyone had been nearly zero the moment he gotten her in the van, now the chances of her ever being rescued were absolutely zero. He was sure that she would be smart enough to realize that much explaining just how far they have gone as he pulled into the large home that made his base of operations.
It had been a very long drive proceeded by an even longer wait for his prey to be available and he was bone tired.
It had been three weeks since he had been here and even longer since he’d been home to Zurich. It was time well spent as always. He’d used it to learn her habits and pick the best time to take her. It was a stroke of luck that her neighborhood who was always home and had gone on vacation. Had that not occurred he would have most likely had to try and grab her on her way out of work or when she went grocery shopping. He could have done it, but it meant a greater chance of discovery.
He pulled into the large house just outside Stargard, Poland, and into the garage addition he’d put into the back. The house was over 200 years old and had been in his family for generations. In the 1930’s his grandfather had spent months digging below the basement to create a shelter for escaping Jews. He’d known where the wind was blowing and was determined to help as many people escape as possible.
He’d be horrified to know what his grandson now used the hidden shelter for.
He looked back at Laura as she hung in the straps, barely conscious and lucidity long gone. She was truly gorgeous hanging there, helpless, exposed, debased.
She’d been a contract job and that saddened him because that meant he would not even have the entertainment of training her to her new life.
He would only have roughly 24 hours, then she would be picked up and be on her way to another location. A location where she would be “experimented on”, whatever that meant.
Of course, in his experience, a kinky way of saying “fucked raw”. Still, he had specific instructions on what needed to be done.
First he needs to get her out of the van and into his processing area. Fortunately, bound as she was he was able to simply toss her over his shoulder.
She was twisting in sheer agony at the movement and her muscles were obviously screaming to move. He was sure if not for the instant punishment for making any noise, she’d be moaning constantly if not outright screaming.
Not that he fucking cared. She was just a toy. He really wished he could fuck her, but, a deal was deal.
He passed through three doors, two of them hidden, before finally making it to his processing area. It was quite clean, sterile, and large, with all manner of devices. This was where to brought a slave in and introduced her to the tortures that she would endure.
In Laura’s case, he was going to be prepping her for the next phase of her journey. In a day’s time he’d be meeting a transport that would be taking her on to her new owners. He had no idea who or where, but for the money he was making, he didn’t care.
He just knew it was approx. a 6 hour trip, that left him 18 hours to get some sleep. Get the preparations that needed to be done, and, of course, have a little fun.
First thing was to get her out of the straps.
He laid her on her back and deactivated the vibrators and discipline function. There was no way this was going to happen without her screaming and if she was getting constantly shocked there was a good chance she’d pass out. That wouldn’t be any fun because he wanted her awake for every single humiliating moment.
“I don’t want to hear a word out of you. Do you understand me, bitch, not a single sound of your voice. You stay quiet, I’ll take those plugs out of you, and let you sleep more or less normal. If you don’t, I’ll strap you into one of my special chairs I use special for disobedient cunts, with one of my special toys inside of you, and leave you here for the next eight hours. Do you fucking understand me?”
Laura nodded her head, she was absolutely terrified, little more than an animal at this point, she would do anything he told her to do. She would suck his cock for the next eight hours if that’s what he wanted.
She would literally at this point do anything to avoid one more shock, anything to avoid one more orgasm. The man could see the abject terror in her face and he reveled in the power he had over her.
Her life was literally in his hands and he knew that she knew it and she accepted it as if he were a god.
As he peeled her out of her bondage he had to give her props. She fought harder than anyone he’d ever seen to stay absolutely silent. Even with the pain that he knew she was in as he straightened her arms and legs all she did was breathe harder but she never once made a sound.
When she was breathing hard he would glare into her face and she dropped her eyes and bit her lip so hard he was sure he would draw blood. Finally, she was free of everything save the plugs.
He unbuckled the belt and deflated the plugs and began to remove them. Silently, he was sure she would fail. He was not only counting on it, he was looking forward to it. As he pulled the plug out of her and off her clit she clamped her mouth shut tightly and was biting her lips inside of her mouth and inhaling, all at the same time. Anything she could think of to not make a sound.
She was completely defeated.
He had her lay on her stomach so he can remove the in a plug and after it had pulled out of her with a plop he placed his foot on a small her back so she couldn’t move. He said, “I don’t necessarily want you to sleep in complete comfort. However, since you had that plug in your ass for so long this should be relatively easy for you to handle.” He bent down and she felt something starting to push into ass.
She clamped down, hard, in reflex and he answered by grabbing the paddle he had next to him and slapping her as hard as he could with it three times on each cheek.
Midway through she howled at the pain. Before he said anything however, she had spun around and was clutching his leg tightly rubbing her face against his calf in complete subjugation.
He didn’t say anything as she did this, she was begging silently and he had to credit her for having enough peace of mind to remember to not speak. He could tell just by the way she was acting she desperately wanted to beg him to forgive her. Beg him not to put the plug back in and torture her further. To tell him that she couldn’t take it. He could almost hear her saying ‘please don’t do that I’m so sorry, please. I’ll do anything you want, but, please don’t do that!’
He could hear it all even though she wasn’t saying any of it just making soft whimpering sounds. “Well,” he said “I suppose I could determine that you lived up to the word of the rule and didn’t make any noise when I remove the plugs, even if you didn’t live up to the spirit.”
She started to look up at him but before she could do so he said, “make sure you keep your eyes down, bitch.” She immediately cast her eyes downwards.
He again knelt down and started to press the plug into her ass and said, “Open up princess,” he said darkly, “I won’t tell you twice.”
She forced herself to relax, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do, and proceeded to push like he’d told her before as he slid whatever it was he had into her ass.
Surprisingly it wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as what he’d used on her before and that immediately caused her concern. She had already learned that this man could not be trusted. If there was a time when she thought that she wasn’t going to be hurt, or that he was going easy on her, that was when she was going to be hurt the worst.
Laura lay there quivering waiting for whatever was going to happen next to cause her more pain.
The man seemed to be doing something and she could feel whatever was inside her begin to widen inside of her. After a couple of moments, it began to become uncomfortable, but again nowhere near as bad as the other plug. She only hoped that this one wouldn’t send random shocks through her.
Once he finished he said, “okay slave what you’re wearing right now is called a pear,” he held up an example for her to look at. He began to turn the crank and she watched as the end that was honestly stuck into her ass expanded. He stopped and then said, “the one in your ass is open to about 70mm, but I can take it to a full 10cm if I want,” he glared down at her, “but I’d like to leave a bit of room to punish you if I need to.”
Laura lowered her head, trying to seem as meek as she possibly could, ‘Please, don’t punish me, I’ll be good, I promise,’ the words ran unbidden through her head. Later she’d chastise herself for being so weak, but right now, she’d not even begin to recover from her traveling ordeal and she didn’t have the strength, physically, mentally, or spiritually to resist,
He gave her a few moments to look at it at the device, unaware of her inner voice and then continued, “Now, the one inside of you has a slight modification,” she immediately went on guard when he said that. He saw her stiffen slightly and grinned evilly, “When the one inside of you has small barbs they’re here, here, and here,” he pointed to the ends of it, “They will dig into the walls of your colon if the plug is pulled on. You could, theoretically, pull this thing out of yourself, but not without ripping your colon to shreds and probably bleeding to death. Do you understand?”
She nodded her head quickly the fear evident on her face.
“The plug inside of you is locked in place and attached to that chain. The other end of the chain is going to be locked here,” he said, pointing to a ring in the floor and then quickly putting action to his words and locking the chain to the ring.
“Now, the whole system has one extra modification,” he smiled down at her and she tried to look at him without raising her eyes. She knew this was the moment she was dreading. He went on as if he had noticed, “there’s a sensor on either end of the chain. Pull too hard on either end and, well,” he grabbed the chain near where it was attached to the ring and yanked on it hard. She immediately screamed in agony and rolled around reaching for her ass.
“It’s really simple, even an ignorant cunt like you should be able to figure this out,” he said with almost a sneer, “don’t pull on it and you won’t get shocked.”
“You understand, don’t you slave?” Laura nodded her head quickly.
“Now,” he said, his tone changing, “there’s one more thing. Get on your knees.”
She moved quickly, not even considering the order, just moving. She heard the sound of a zipper and she looked up in dawning horror before she could stop herself and and he smacked her in the side of the head, “Eyes down, cunt.”
She fell over from the blow and he said, “Get back on your knees, now.”
She quickly got back into her position, now shaking as she knew what was about to happen.
The man smiled at her realization and said, “That’s right, cunt, you thought I forgot?”
He pulled his hardened cock from his pants and walked up to her, “Look at that,” she didn’t move and kept her eyes riveted to the floor and he said more heatedly, “I said look at it.”
She flinched at his raised voice and did as commanded, raising her eyes to look at his large, throbbing manhood.
He walked up to her, his cock inches from her face and said, “You do a good job, no teeth, no biting and you get to sleep,” he promised.
He held up a remote for her to see, “Even try to bite me, you stupid little cock slave, and your ass gets lit on fire. Then, I’ll get mean,” he grabbed her hair and forced her to look into his eyes, “You understand me?”
She nodded her head, fearfully, tears leaking from her eyes and he said, “Well then, get to it, slave, it’s going to be your life’s work, might as well start practicing now.”
Reluctantly, Laura started to reach for his cock and he said, “Uh uh, slave, cross your wrists behind your back. You’ll be doing this more often than not bound, so put your hands behind your back and keep them there.”
Again she hesitated and this time he hit the button on the remote. It was only for less than a second but it was enough for electricity to rip through her ass and she fell over screaming.
He didn’t give her any time to recover as he kicked her side, relatively lightly and said, “Back in position, slave, now!”
She moved as quickly as she could but it wasn’t fast enough for him and he yelled, “I said move your ass you worthless cunt,” and again he hit the remote quickly.
She knew she couldn’t fall over again and instead she let out a yelp and somehow managed to stay up right. She quickly put her hands behind her back and moved towards his cock again.
She was disgusted by what she was about to do, but she knew there was no getting around it. Her choices were simple, she could suck his cock or she could be tortured and suck his cock anyway.
Tears streamed down her face as she moved forward and took him into her mouth.
The man closed his eyes and enjoyed the warm, wet mouth as it wrapped around his cock.
She wasn’t an expert by any means, but fear was an impressive motivator, and stark terror was even better. He knew she was completely out of balance and her mental defenses were all but shot after her trip. She might have offered more reluctance than she had twelve or so hours ago, but now. She was at a point where she would do anything to get some kind of relief and he knew it.
So she sucked licked and played with his cock haltingly but well enough that he could tell she was really trying. The continued sobs as she did so just made him harder.
He could have stretched this out, but he was tired and really, he was only doing this because he liked debasing a new slave like this. It gave him a thrill no one that hadn’t done it could even imagine. He felt himself getting close and he grabbed her haid in his hand and buried his cock to the back of her throat as his load exploded.
The move was completly unexpected and the sudden blockage of her air passage caused her to start to struggle and her arms came from behind her back but he ignored it as he shot jet after jet of hot semen down her throat.
“Swallow it or suffocate, whore,” he said through clenched teeth.
Apparently she heard him because she did as ordered and he groaned as her swallowing throat milked him even more.
Finally he was done and he shoved her away, causing her to fall over as he did.
She was sputtering and coughing and he said loudly, “Back in position, cunt, you weren’t given permission to move.”
Again he punctuated the harsh command with another shock and she moved quickly into position, all the whole choking and coughing. She wanted to wipe her face but realized if she tried to move her arms he’d just punish her again, so she did her best to shake the saliva and cum off her face and she sat there on her knees.
Secretly he was impressed with how quickly she’d gotten back into position and remembered to keep her arms behind her back. It was just one more testament to how easily she’d be trained and what a fine slave she would make.
Out loud he said, “Barely adequate slave, but luckily for you, I’m not going to be training you,” he reached down and forced her head back so she was again looking up at him and he said, “a word of advice, however, I’d work on eliminating that gag reflex. It’s going to cause you problems in the future.”
He then pushed her head back down and put his cock back in his pants.
He studied her intently and she lowered her gaze so far she was almost staring at her own naval, coughing all the while.
Finally, he seems satisfied and said “Last thing, slave, I’ll be coming down here in about eight hours to get you ready for your trip. I expect you to be waiting at the door in the proper position for slave. That means you will be facing away from the door. Kneeling back on your heels your big toes touching. Your head down with your forehead on the floor your hands behind your back with your wrists crossed. I expect your legs to be spread as wide as possible to give me a good look at that slave cunt of yours.”
“If you’re not in this position, or your legs aren’t spread enough for me to see your cunt and ass clearly, well, I’m sure you can figure out just how imaginative and creative I can be in my discipline.”
He was actually able to see her begin to shudder at the mere thought of that.
“I suggest you get some sleep, you’ve got a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”
With that he slammed the door shut and turned out the lights.
Laura continued to shudder as a man left and the lights went out, plunging her into darkness. She continued to cough and gag on the nasty taste he’d left in her mouth. The oral rape was just one more nail in the coffin of her individuality. She didn’t want to do that, could have never conceived of doing something like that before, at least never under such conditions. She was, and in fact, had always been a willful and spirited woman. Always willing to fight when she thought it needed to be done and never willing to let anyone treat her badly or as an inferior simply because she was a woman. She’d always told herself she’d fight if something like that happened. She’d make the man sorry and she’d bite his dick off.
When the time came, however she simply crumbled. She was completely disgusted with her weakness even as she understood she’d never really had any choice.
She shook her head, ‘You’re better than this. You know you are, you’ve got to fight,’ the inner voice sounded hollow and empty, even to herself.
In fact, as she tried to call up that courage she’d always counted on she found it simply wasn’t there. The 14 hour trip, hanging in those chains, helplessly forced to orgasm over and over again, punished with the unforgiving, searing electrical shocks and now, forced to pleasure a rapist and kidnapper with her mouth with no possibility of resisting had completely devastated her will and her spirit.
She was trying desperately to rally some kind of defense; to somehow reinforce her battered courage so she could think clearly and try to figure some way to get out of this, some means to escape. Sadly, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that there seemed to be little hope.
Instinctively she curled herself into a tight ball, seeking the psychological comfort of the fetal position. She was absolutely terrified, demoralized, and already more than half way to exactly where he wanted her; feeling completely helpless and devastated while knowing on an instinctive level that any resistance was futile at best.
Her kidnapper had obviously done this before. He was cautious, having never given her any opportunity where she could try to defend herself. From the moment he’d attacked her in her flat he’d maintained brutal control and enforced that control with harsh, ruthless means.
He’d even taken her hours from her home. She was in another country at this point, not even sure where she was. For all she knew even if she escaped him, there was no telling who or what she’d run into outside and how she would be treated. Incredibly it could be even worse.
No, her kidnapper was very skilled and knew exactly how to keep her helpless, and eliminate any possibility of escape. She had only to reach down, past the bruises she felt on her ass from the beating and and touch the chain connected to the device locked in her own ass to realize that.
Unless she was very, very lucky or her captor was suddenly very, very stupid, she was doomed to the exact life he described for her. Unfortunately, she didn’t think either of those were a possibility for her at this.
The man watched the screen as the green tinted night vision camera showed him Laura as she curled into a ball for protection. He’d seen it in nearly every acquisition he’d ever made. They all, at some point, instinctively seek the position they were most safe, curled up in their mother’s womb.
Once, as an experiment, he’d actually used that against one of his slaves. He’d bound her into that exact position and then tortured and raped her repeatedly.
He’d done it for weeks.
It got to the point where he didn’t need the bindings, he’d simply say, “ball” and the slave knew to get into that position and that something decidedly unpleasant was coming.
Effectively he’d eliminated the one safe thing she had thought she could do in his captivity. In taking even that from her, she’d literally crumbled, psychologically speaking, and had broken far earlier than he’d anticipated.
He’d had to sell her off early because she was so pathetically obedient at that point she wasn’t any fun anymore.
He smiled at the memory. It had at least given him more knowledge into the psyche of his prey. It had also been a lot of fun destroying that little Greek bitch.
He turned back to the monitor and smiled, he truly wished he could keep her, but alas that wasn’t going to happen.
He turned from the screen and headed to his room, he needed sleep, he had a lot to do tomorrow.
Eight hours came too soon for Laura. She had found it difficult to get into a comfortable position and to relax; afraid that she would accidentally pull on the chain if she did. Finally, exhaustion had taken its toll and she finally fell asleep. It was by no means restful as her subconscious continued to play the events over in her mind, and the fears of what was to come. No, it wasn’t restful by any means.
A few short hours later she heard the door start open.
She scrambled madly to get in the position, pulling on the chain and zapping herself once. She screamed out as it happened but continued to move as quickly as possible to get into position. The door open just has her head hit the hit the floor and her wrist crossed behind her back. She was sitting there, panting with her efforts and began to shake immediately in fear as she was once again in the presence of this man.
He had opened the door and smiled when he saw her. He’d made sure to make a lot of racket as there would’ve been no way for her to know he was coming otherwise.
It could’ve been fun to surprise her and spend the rest of the day torturing her for failing to do as she was ordered, but he didn’t have time for that and she wasn’t one of his to train. He was sadly just a middleman.
Still, it was gratifying to see the way she was already shaking in obvious fear, simply by his mere presence.
She knew he was simply standing there, watching her, and the desire to move was nearly overwhelming, nearly. Fear and instinct commanded her not to move.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity he said, “The position is definitely not perfect slave,” he saw her begin to shake even more.
‘I can do better, I promise,’ immediately ran through her bruised psyche and she almost shifted to try and get into position better but stopped as he said, “It is, however, adequate for today. Luckily for you I’m not going to be the one training you so count your blessings,” he chuckled, “That is if you even believe in those anymore. “
She almost sighed in relief, not even consciously aware of the thoughts that had just passed through her head. Her psychological modification had already started and she didn’t even know it. Her owners would be pleased if they knew it.
He approached her quickly and locked her wrists behind her back with a simple set of handcuffs and her ankles were secured with leg irons. He detached the chain from the wall and pulled her to her feet. He fed the chain from her anal leash up between the lips of her pussy and then wrapped it around her neck, and locking it in place and making a makeshift collar and leash. He then dragged her out of the room.
She couldn’t help but glance around and he said, “Eyes down, you already know better.”
She immediately dropped her eyes to the floor and he once again smiled to himself at how easily she was accepting her new role. This was definitely not the self-assured woman he’d been watching for weeks and he knew she would make an excellent slave and once trained and properly inspired he had no doubt she would fuck like a champion.
He led her across the room to metal chair and told her to sit down. She did so without question and he began to secure her in place and in short order she was sitting with her legs spread, her arms back and her head immobilized.
He said, “Now, slave, your owners wish you to be pierced.” She looked at them horrified and he continued, “Given the skill I have in that I have agreed to do so for a nominal fee.”
He held up the rings that he would be using to pierce her with. They looked incredibly large to her. The smallest ones, for her nipples, looked like as large as the inside of a pin. He looked at her and said, “You don’t want to be pierced?”
She tried to shake her head and he said, “OK, I give you permission right now to speak. Go ahead make your case.”
She did exactly that. She begged him not to do it. She explained how she was terrified of needles and that she couldn’t stand the idea. How there was no way she could take the pain. She begged with everything she had, trying to convince him.
After this went on for a while he snapped his hand fingers in her face and said, “Quiet!”
She immediately went silent again, like a well-trained animal.
He said, “You got that out of your system, do you feel better? It’s not going to change anything but at least it’s a lesson for you, and one you should bear in mind, slave.”
He waited till he was sure she was completely focused on him, and not looking at the rings he still held between his fingers, “Occasionally it may please your owners to hear you beg. It will never change your owner’s mind as they will have already decided what course of action they will take and you will obey. If you’re every permitted to beg against it, it’s not because they may be waived by your pathetic whimpering but because it pleases him to watch you beg and then to deny what you ask.”
He saw the devastation his words had and then gave her a little more, “Now, let’s get started. We have a lot of work to do. By the way, it’s ok to scream, I like it.”
The next half hour consisted of Laura screaming in agony and fear as her body was pierced again and again.
The man started with both of her labia and commenting as he did that perhaps her Owners planned on locking one of the special devices inside of her. Wouldn’t it be funny, he said, that they could leave her hands free and there would still be no way she could prevent what was happening to her due to the locks.
Her mind conjured that image into her mind and it rolled around in her head, driving her terror higher. He continued with his task, next she piercing her nipples, driving the needle through the tip. He explained over her crying, “Rings through a slave’s nipples make excellent connection points for a leash. It’s truly humiliating for them to be led around by a leash on their nipples,” he smiled as a thought occurred to him, “Of course not nearly as humiliating as being led by a leash connected to their nose ring,” he looked her right in the eye and finished, “or it’s clit.”
As he placed the rings he said, I’ve put these at the tip so your Owners will have the option of piercing your nipples further back. Just how beautiful you’ll look with double piercings slave.”
She looked at him, terrified, and he just chuckled before holding up one of the rings, By the way, I’m sure you’ve noticed there’s no ball on these,” she looked and now did notice, he said, “These are very special rings, made of titanium they are designed so that once they are closed they lock on, permanently. The only possible way to get them off would be with the diamond cutting tool and you’d probably be just as likely to cut your nipples off as a cut off the rings. It’s the same for all the other piercings being put in your body,” he smiled, “including the ones I’m going to put in your nose and your clit. You can pretty much consider these to be a permanent part of your body.”
She started squirming against her bindings at that revelation, even though it was useless. He continued, ignoring her, “Just think, when you die, and your body has decayed and there’s nothing but a skeleton the rings will still be there. I your body is ever found b some kind of excavation they’ll find a skeleton and these rings and even then, hundreds or thousands of years from now those people will still know that they have just found the body of a useless, worthless, stupid slave. How does that make you feel?”
He laughed at her squeals of fear and said, “Yes they are very beautiful but now we have two more to do.” She froze as he explained, “So which do you think I should do next: The nose ring is usually considered much more humiliating to the women that I have pierced, however the one down below is always a little more entertaining.”
She tried to shake her head, reminding him she didn’t want either but he ignored her as he said, “Eenie meenie miney mo. Oh it’s your nose Laura.”
She tried to shake her way free of the chair once again then tried to shake her head to keep him from being able to get a firm grip on her face. He dispassionately reached for the straps that held her head and torqued down on them even more. At that point even the small amount of movement she had was removed and the tightness on her head actually brought tears to her eyes from a new source, beyond the pain and fear she was already experiencing.
He pulled out a needle that looked to her terror drunk mind, like it was more appropriate for knitting a sweater than for piercing flesh. He ran the needle through a flame as he looked at her and said, “I don’t want you to be bleeding excessively. After all I don’t want to have to clean up your slut blood, now do I?”
Finally, he was ready and grabbed a pair forceps to get a firmer grip on her septum. He lined up the needle and plunged it through the Cartlidge.
Laura howled in pain like she’d never felt before as she felt the flesh yield to the pressure and sharpness of the needle piercing the her nose. It was unlike anything she could’ve ever imagined and he ignored her completely as he examined the hole and found the heat had done its job of minimizing bleeding.
He placed two pieces of metal on either side of the septum and used small rivets to mount them to her septum. While small and thin they were very strong and would add additional strength to the piercing. After done he put the locking titanium ring in place and moved on to the final piercing.
Laura knew what was going to happen and she fought as hard as anyone could but she might as well have been paralyzed. Two minutes later and screams of agony that would echo though her soul for a lifetime and Laura now had a permanent metal ring through the most sensitive flesh of her clit.
The man smile down her face and the tears that were streaming from her eyes and said, “Don’t worry, the inflatable dildo that you came here with has a special modification, these particular rings actually work with it to make it much easier to feed your clit through the hole. That means your Owners will still be able to use that wondrous device on you. She cried harder at that information and he shrugged, “We need to keep moving, we have much more to do and some of the things are probably going to be a little uncomfortable,” he actually laughed at that.
He went on to clean her out front and back, using a large cattle syringe for her backside, preventing any discharge and effectively dealing with the issue.
Then he forced her to drink a couple of energy drinks since by this point it had been more than 24 hours since she’d had any nourishment.
Finally, he gave her a douche, to clean her out in front. She absently noted that he was actually using the brand that she used. It was a testament to her just how long he had been studying her.
He smiled at her as he held up her new shoes, “I don’t know if a slut like you has ever seen anything like this before. In case you haven’t let me explain. These are called ballet boots they’re very special and they make a woman’s or a slave’s leg look very long and lean and quite stunning actually. These boots of course are modified with a “special present” for a slave like you, because comfort isn’t a concern for one of those.”
Laura just look at the boots and couldn’t imagine how it would ever be possible to be comfortable or even wear something so extreme. Her toes were literally going to be pointed directly at the ground and would be supporting her entire weight, minus whatever wait she was able to put on the heel. She could already imagine that her calves would cramp up almost immediately once they were put on and groaned at that thought.
He ignored her moan as he continued his explanation, “These also lock in place, so, even if by some miracle your arms were actually free you still would not be able to remove them without the key. There’s also another little surprise but I’ll let you find out in a little bit. For now let’s get these on.”
He opened the boot and grabbed her right leg, looking into her eye and daring her to fight.
Laura actually considered it for a moment but the look in her eye told her everything she needed to know. He wanted her to try to resist. He wanted an excuse to hurt her even more. Of course he’d already demonstrated that he didn’t need a reason to do that other than enjoying the act of crushing her spirit. Still, she could imagine that if she gave him one he would take full advantage and make her very sorry.
‘I can’t give him any more reason,’ she thought, defeatedly, ‘I can’t take anymore.’
With that, she simply lowered her eyes and, unresistingly, allowed him to start to feed her foot and leg into it the evil looking footwear.
As he worked he said, “I’m disappointed. I expected a little more spirit, a little bit more fight, but ultimately I’m not shocked at all. You’re just like every other cunt in the world; you already know your place.”
The words cut and hurt her deeply, and the worst thing was that at this point she couldn’t even muster the energy internally to disagree with his assessment. She’d just crumbled. She could have made a show of resisting him. Tried to make him earn her, made him realize she wasn’t weak, but in the end that’s exactly what she had been. That knowledge stung more than the electricity he’d used on her did.
He fed the boot on her foot and tightened it impossibly tight. She watched as he buckled the cuff in place around her ankle locking the shoe on her foot exactly as he promised.
He repeated the process on her other foot. Now, even if he were to suddenly release her she would only be able to take small, slow, mincing steps, if at all, to try to escape. The boots were as effective as if her ankles had leg irons with a cannonball attached locked on to them.
“Now for your arms,” he said and he collapsed the back of the chair that she was in after strapping her legs back down. He kept the lap strap in place and removed all her bindings above it and forced her to sit up.
Depressingly she realized that even with so much of her body unbound she was still no closer to freedom than she had been when he had first attacked her in her apartment.
He smiled at her as if reading her mind and she looked to the side in defeat.
For her arms, he told her, he wanted to secure them but didn’t want to impede blood flow. If someone decided they were going to take her arms off they would do it because they wanted to do it and not because his ham-handed bondage had cause gangrene.
He laughed at the look such a thought caused to form on her face but didn’t slow his work.
He fastened a strange kind of bitten over her hand that forced it into fist. It had a cuff that locked securely around her wrist and there was a ring on the end of the mitten where her knuckles would be.
He locked another on her and now had no use of her fingers. She was free to swing and move her arms if she were foolish enough to do so, but she had no fingers to do anything.
‘Just like an animal’ she thought.
Next he buckled thick leather cuffs around her arms just for elbows. With that done he attached a strap to the end of each of the mittens. He took the strap from her right mitten, ran it over her left shoulder and then under her left armpit. He repeated that path with the strap on her left mitten. Then he slowly forced each arm further behind and then up her back. Once satisfied at the height her arms were up her back he secured each strap to the corresponding cuff above her elbow.
Her arms were now held in a double hammer with her wrists crossed behind her back, midway down her spine. The position was not truly uncomfortable and she could tell that the blood flow wouldn’t really be effected, but she could also appreciate how completely helpless her arms were, as well as the fact that if the straps were pulled tighter and her arms forced further up her back it could quickly become agonizing.
As a final level of security he showed her a double set of rings that he locked around her wrist, further ensuring her utter helplessness.
Finally he went over to the wall and pushed a button there and she heard a motor activate and watched as a cable was lowered from the ceiling.
She didn’t know why but that site caused her to again begin to shudder in fear.
He stepped up to her with a set of cables shaped like a ‘Y’ with clips on all three ends. He proceeded to attach a clip to both of her nipples and her nose ring. He’d lifted her chin before he started and the entire time he stared into her eyes, daring her try to move away or try to do anything as he attached the clips to her new piercings.
Laura winced at the pulling on her recently violated flesh but did nothing else as he worked.
When he was done he unfastened her legs and forced her to begin putting weight on her toes. She whined again and her mouth opened as if to speak but she quickly clamped her lips closed and looked at him.
He left her and walked back to the controls. She watched him the entire time as he move her eyes never leaving him and when he reached the controls for the winch she shook her head desperately pleading into her with her eyes for just one small piece of mercy. That’s all she wanted.
‘Please, please just stop,’ she cried silently.
He smiled and hit the winch and slowly lifted in the air. Laura was forced to stand as the cable pulled on her newly pierced flesh. He was too skinny position her toes immediately and agony she tried to shift some of her weight to her heels and that’s when she discovered the “special present” he was talking about as apparently there was a sharp spike in the shoes where her heel was.
Whenever she tried to rest some of her weight there the pain from the spike forced her back on her toes. she teetered back-and-forth in danger of losing her balance and was forced to use the cables to maintain her balance, naturally pulling painfully on her sensitive flesh.
Finally, she found a point of equilibrium and was able to stand there on her toes while using some mild tension on her nose and nipples to keep her balance. She was whining almost constantly in pain bordering on sheer agony.
Laura didn’t know how long could maintain this, certainly no more than a few moments, but as he walked away from the controls for the winch she had a horrible feeling that she would be required to hold this position much longer than that.
He went to work, ignoring her completely as he pulled out a large black case and Laura couldn’t help but notice that it was shaped like a person. He it laid on the ground and inside was a set of straps and flaps that looked the world like a bag. He pulled out the other half and on the top she noticed that it had some kind of computer where the feet would be and an opening for the face.
He moved around make his preparations and completely ignoring Laura’s struggles.
Meanwhile Laura continued to suffer and fatigue quickly settled in and her legs were beginning to shake and shudder as a lactic acid buildup in them. She didn’t have the endurance for this and she didn’t know how much longer she was going to be able to stay up. Repeatedly she had felt herself begin to falter and the pulling tension on her nose and nipples was the only thing that would force her back upright, but each time it was getting harder and harder.
Finally, when she was certain that she was not going to be able to stay up another second and she actually started to teeter over he was suddenly there, holding her up. She couldn’t help but look gratefully at him, hating herself for the relief she felt at being in his arms.
As he held her he pulled a remote from his pocket and for a moment she had visions of electricity shooting through her body from the piercings. She started whining, but again didn’t speak as she cried in fear and desperation.
He simply ignored her as he hit a button and the winch began releasing some of the tension on the cables and he slowly lowered her to the ground.
He hit another button and the winch cable slowly ascended back into ceiling and disappeared.
He ignored the disappearing cable and decided it was finally time for her gag. He had left it out till now because he wanted to test her. He wanted to see if she could obey his order to not speak. He’d done this with many of his previous conquests, to gage their mental state. He’d found that the more overwhelmed they were the more obedient and afraid they were.
Laura had done very well. Not perfect, mind you, but she’d demonstrated a keen personality trait for slavery. She’d done everything she could to obey his orders and had demonstrated the night before she could beg very well without speaking.
She’d do well in her new life.
The gag was a simple matter as he took a large leather bag and forced it into her mouth. The bag had straps attached to it that would fasten around her head and pull it deeply into her mouth and it had an inflatable bladder inside it, much like a football, allowing it to expand inside her mouth and take up even more room.
After the gag was firmly strapped in, and her eyes were watering with the tightness, he inserted the small inflator and began to expand the bag inside her mouth.
He continued until she was whining at the pressure but the sound had been almost completely eliminated. Satisfied, he pulled out the inflator and then put the black helmet over her face that left only her nose and eyes exposed and ensured the earbuds were in place before tightening the helmet and then moving on.
Continuing to take advantage of Laura’s immobility he slipped the dildoes from before into her holes. They slid in easily enough with some lubrication and, as promised the ring in her clit made feeding it through much easier. He made sure to tighten the belt securely and even pulled her labia piercings around the strap and locked a small padlock through the rings, effectively securing the strap into place, demonstrating exactly what he had mentioned earlier.
She moaned into her gag as he did this and tried to pull away but was still too tired to do so. He set down a set of straps he’d pulled from a table and he began to securely fasten them around her thighs, above and below her knees, her calves, and her ankles.
In each case a smaller strap was fed through her legs and around the strap to allow the straps to be tightened even further then. He started at the top and worked his way down and after a few moments of readjustment and final tightening her legs were virtually welded together.
He lifted her body and placed her inside the coffin like case, and she felt herself sink into the thick padding. Her overwhelmed mind immediately began to race. The fact it looked like a coffin simply pushed Laura’s devestated mind over the edge, ‘Oh my God,’ she thought, ‘I made him mad. I did something wrong! He’s disappointed in me! He’s going to bury me alive!’
She started trying to squirm but between the bondage and the fatigue from being made to stand for so long her body had virtually no energy at all and she was doing little more than vibrating in place with even her best efforts to move.
Unaware of her thoughts, not that he would have cared if he’d heard them, he proceeded to secure her inside the transport case. He laced the bag up tightening the bindings from the tips of her toes up, making, fastening the straps into place as he went and ensuring to feed the wires for her dildoes through the cutouts.
He continued to work steadily until he reached Laura’s tits. At that point he opened small flaps and aligned her soft flesh so her pierced nipples stuck through. He then applied clamps to her nipples that would give her additional shocks in her travels and then completed the lacing and strapping.
He finished by strapping her head into place and when all was done she was completely immobilized.
He went over to his workbench, ignoring the near constant pleading, screaming, and crying that she was doing, and came back with a small device and reached her eyes.
Working slowly and diligently he was able to hook up the small metal device to Laura’s left eye and force it open. Then, without saying a word, he pulled out a pair of contact lenses that was completely blacked out.
He pulled out one of the contacts and put it into her eye. Once it was in satisfactorily he released the clamp and watched her blink involuntarily and the contact aligned perfectly.
Realization that she was now completely blind in that eye new round of panic and she started to try to shake her head.
He smiled at her and said, “You’re going to be completely blind for your trip. The facial hole will allow anybody to look in and see the pathetic face of a whiny slave but you won’t be able to see anyone. The plugs in your ears will alternate between playing white nose and a special mantra for you to learn. The computer down at your foot will be activated and it will send random shocks and/or vibrations to your clit, cunt, ass, and tits. Depending on what the driver decides. You are in for an even more uncomfortable ride then you had from London, and much longer.”
He stroked her face gently and reveled in the terror and begging he saw as he said, “Once I put this other contact in, you’re never going to see me again. I would wish you good luck but that would be pointless.”
He then applied the clamp to her right eye even though she tried to keep it shut. A simple threat of turning on all of the shock devices at once was enough to force her to open right even though he could repeated the procedure with her other eye.
Laura was sobbing uncontrollably now as she lay motionless in complete and utter darkness.
He lifted the top half of the case into place and then locked it down before activating the computer to do exactly as advertised; give her random vibrations and shocks with the occasional long run of the vibrator to force her to orgasm.
The case was designed with sensors to detect things like temperature, respiration, and heartrate.
It wouldn’t do to have product expire in transit and these cases ensured slaves could be transferred in safety while ensuring they were kept well aware of their complete and utter helplessness.
The sensors could be integrated with the computer controls for the clamps and dildoes and set to deliver painful shocks if heartrate rose above a certain level, like when a woman approached orgasm.
He’d recommend that to the driver that picked her up because it would certainly be educational for her.
With everything done he used the winch overhead the load her onto a dolly and then move her out to the van. He shut the door and headed for the rendezvous.
He wasn’t sure exactly how long she was going to be in the case but he had been told that she needed be prepped for at least a 24 hour trip.
24 hours in that hell?
He actually laughed out loud.
Inside her prison Laura was trapped inside her own mind. Over and over again she tried desperately to gain some control over herself. To try and calm down, to slow herself down.
Each time she thought she was doing so a small vibration or shock would hit and she’d try and pull or love away only to realize the complete helplessness of her situation again and fall over the cliff into mindless panic once again.
She couldn’t survive this. She couldn’t go on if this was going to be her life. Tortured and abused for the amusment of sadistic lunatics. No one could survive this.
Deep in her mind, the tiny voice that had already acknowledged herself as IT, began to whisper again.
‘You’re not going to survive. You’re not meant to survive. Laura is meant to die, to cease to exist. All they want is IT. You need to let go of yourself and accept.’
She tried to resist that traitorous inner voice, but as the white noise gave way to a whispering voice it became harder.
The voice in the headphones repeated over and over, telling her she was worthless, that she was a slave, that she was a toy, that she needed to obey, that she was nothing, and it punctuated each statement with a searing shock to her ass and cunt. She clamped her eyes chut tightly and screamed for all she was worth.
In her state of sensory deprivation it soon began to feel like the voice from the headphones was coming from the very center of her own head, and that whispering voice began to merge with her own inner voice and both grew louder. Harmonizing to drown out the voice of her resistance and will, and pushing Laura further and further down.
‘What will I be like when I get where I’m going,’ she couldn’t help but ask herself.
Then there was no more time for thoughts as the vibrators came to life and she was overcome with unquenchable lust that made coherent thought impossible.
Laura wasn’t broken fully by any means, and her owners would know that even if she didn’t, but soon, she would arrive at her destination and her true training and breaking would then begin.
For people wondering how to take action post-election of a racist demagogue (pulled from Twitter and cleaned up):
Make a spreadsheet or a file for your representatives with names, addresses to their offices, phone numbers, and contact forms. Put everyone there. Make a note in your calendar app to check in on issues once a month.
Pay attention to news. If you get angry, upset, or worried, seek support from friends but ALSO shoot these reps an email, too. Be courteous but firm and blunt. It’s a numbers game. Often we remain invisible because we don’t go to events and rallies and can’t be physically present. But we can attach our names to emails, we can write letters, we can be vocal. We don’t have to be invisible.
You can do this with your national reps, state reps, and local reps. If someone reps you anywhere, note them. Open a line and revisit it. It’s hard work and slow. One email at a time. One letter at a time. One call at a time. Emails are easy these days, so splurge every few months on a stamp and send a letter if you can. Put your humanity in front of these people. Flout it. Some won’t care, but others will. Change ONE mind and results can cascade.
Rural areas are bubbles full of bigotry and now it’s newly revealed. But we white people who live here have the clout and power! We can speak up when our reps say terrible things, and do terrible things, and vote terrible ways. We can go “I am disappointed in you.” It’s work, but as we’ve seen the last six months, it’s time for us to do that work. If someone goes “who are your reps” you gotta know. If you don’t know and you’re mad about this election, it’s time to create that file and keep it with you and use it.
The time for social media rants only is over. Or, do those, but maybe pull those threads out into a paragraph and send them to your reps. And don’t ONLY email or contact when things go badly. Also reach out when things go right. Even if they voted AGAINST something. Treat them like you would want to be treated if you were wrong or mistaken. But we’ve gotta reach out and let them know we’re here.
Anyway, I know this is hard work. If you need help collecting your reps, give me a ping via DM and I’ll help you get started.
somewhere along the streets of dotonburi, the ‘famous curry’ from jiyuken can be found! their brand of curry rice is a little different from those you’ll see elsewhere, as it’s been mixed into the rice itself. they also top it off with a raw egg. the menu specifically states ‘oda sakunosuke’s favourite’.
just a little bit away is a small little temple hozenji, and right beside it, i found a little dessert shop called meoto zenzai, which is named after one of oda’s works (translated, it means ‘sweet beans for two’ or something along those lines). he kind of singlehandedly enshrined zenzai as an osakan delicacy or something, huh.
I wanna talk about These Inconvenient Fireworks!! Can we talk about These Inconvenient Fireworks??
ohhhhhh HELLO. Where do we start? Where to start?!?!
I want to start by thanking the authors of the Fic of Dreams. Whoever you two, beautiful, anonymous geniuses are: I thank you.
I read TIF about twice a year. It’s one of my .favorite things I’ve ever read, but it feels different than a book. It feels like my favorite movie and my favorite blanket and my favorite candle. It feels like everything. It makes me feel many things. It’s wish fulfillment. It’s raw. It’s like someone ripped open my brain and rifled around a bit and put my thoughts together but more beautifully than I could.
It’s just so raw and real!!! What specifically do you need to talk about? The saddest sex scene of ALL TIME?! The best reunion speech of ALL TIME? The funniest car wash scene OF ALL TIME?!
I love it so much. Feel free to come off anon and discuss our favorite parts more specifically.
Native artists, and I include mixed blood Natives, come from a place of rebellion, emotion. We have a raw thing that is specific to being Indigenous. It’s an intuitive fight that can be heard in the pulse, the tone, the feeling of our music.
“Gray would have died for any of his friends” [Counter]
Except that Juvia is not just a friend. How about we take a look at what was actually said in the chapter:
“I didn’t want to hurt a friend…. No… I didn’t want to hurt you!!”
This is crunchy roll’s translation, and as pointed out in this post, the raw 100% makes it clear that Juvia is more than a friend to Gray. If we were to be literal, it reads Nakama wo [”A comrade…”] Iya… [”No…”] Omae [”You”] wo kizutsuketakunai [”I don’t want to hurt”]. Because of the difference between English and Japanese sentence structure, the literal translation just doesn’t flow right. But I do believe crunchy roll (notice “you” is bolded and italicized) tried their best to convey the message.
Mangastream’s doesn’t put enough emphasis on Gray correcting himself compared to the original Japanese, and makes it sound like he’s just repeating himself. It’s unfortunate that the English sentence structure does not match up in this case, because the Japanese raw is much more powerful.
Gray catches himself because he knows Juvia is in her own category; she can’t be grouped with all his other comrades. It’s common in Japanese to leave the pronoun implied, but the raws are very specific here. Gray is very explicit about Juvia being the person he wants to protect, and the reason he decided to stab himself.
Which brings me to the point of this post. We can speak hypothetically, and assume that if he was in this position with another person, that he might have taken the same drastic measures. But, we don’t need to wonder or speak hypothetically when it comes to Juvia, because we know Gray would sacrifice himself for her,because we’ve seen him do so twice now.
So, what he might do for his friends is not the point at all of this chapter, because once again, we are not seeing Gray sacrifice himself for anybody else. Mashima, instead, continues to show us he would give his life specifically for Juvia. And by doing so he is placing a tremendous amount of importance and emphasis on Gray’s actions, and inviting us to ponder the likely reason he took those actions in Juvia’s case.
We know why Juvia chose to do what she did here: she loves Gray immensely. And Mashima had Gray’s actions mirror Juvia’s. This parallel was intentional. And Gray’s own words prove this.
When asked why Gray did it, he starts to explain he did not want to hurt a friend, but immediately corrects himself and replaces the word “friend” with “you”, referring to Juvia. Which again, indicates she is more than a friend to him.
In Japan, telling someone you want to protect specifically them is a big deal. Juvia is happy because she understands the meaning behind Gray’s words. They did a simultaneous suicide because they both feel the same way about each other (mutual love).
Gray’s actions in this chapter and even throughout the manga speak volumes about what he really feels for Juvia, as well as showing their close bond, and how she’s on a different level compared to everyone else.
this question is about japan. in 1853, commodore matthew perry sailed a small fleet into an edo harbor and forced the japanese to sign a treaty allowing foreign trade, ending 200 years of shogun-imposed isolation. at this juncture, if i'm not mistaken, japan would've been at a similar level of development as other areas which found themselves colonized by europeans. in your view, what did japan do "right" that allowed them to escape colonization and become a capitalist power in their own right?
What would be the best course for economic development for a poor nation in the third world? One with little capitalist penetration and a minuscule industrial base?
So I’m gonna wrap these two asks up into one thing because giving a concrete example along with an abstract guideline seems like a good idea.
First off, you liquidate your landed classes and make your agricultural sector full of smallholders. In the absence of an excess of energy that you can put into industrial agriculture, smallholder agriculture is by far the most efficient. Big land plots under the control of a gentry with the vast majority of people as tenant farmers is how most of the world’s agriculture is structured (Guatemala: 2.5% of population own 65% of arable land, Colombia: 14% of population own 80% of land, Pakistan: 5% of population owns 64% of land, Bangladesh: 9% of population own 54% of land, China pre-1949: 10% of population owns 70% of land, etc, similar asset distributions for virtually all of the third world). This works great for that gentry, because they can suck up all of the surplus product that these tenant farmers produce through high rents, but it’s awful for nearly everybody else. It’s bad for food security, since the gentry will order the planting of cash crops for sale on international markets in the knowledge that their food needs will be met first and maybe the international community will come with some aid in case of a drought. Tenant farmers won’t have money to spend on consumer goods, nor will they ever bother to spend to improve land they don’t own. When they travel to the city in search of work, smallholders know they can go back to the plot and make a living, meaning they don’t have to accept awful wages, while tenant farmers forced off their land have to accept whatever’s offered. That’s a major reason why China is China and Haiti is Haiti. World Bank loans are attractive to landlords because they comes with clauses that prevent changes in the distribution of land ownership, which forces countries into debtor positions. Finally, landlords are typically insulated from the effects of free trade. They team up with corporations to promote industrial agriculture through imports from the first world, while smallholders can’t afford those kinds of improvements to stay competitive and end up going bankrupt and getting forced off their land. Now, this kind of liquidation doesn’t have to be violent, but it tends to be. Landlords are a countervailing order to industrialization, and they don’t tend to want to give up their power peacefully. Often, they’re associated with colonial powers, which means wars of national liberation tend to end up doing the job, like in China or Vietnam. Other times, economic pressures force peasants to revolt and change their situation, as in France or Russia. There’s also a third option, where one side in a civil war is sponsored by the industrial sector while one is sponsored by landlords, and the industrial sector wins, as in Japan. In this case, the liquidation of landlords isn’t literal, but took place because the landlords, the Samurai, had to be punished for their support of the Shogunate over the Emperor. Their landownings were confiscated, and since they were the most well educated class, they were made state bureaucrats instead. This wasn’t the only policy necessary for industrialization, but it was necessary. Now Japanese landowners couldn’t influence state policy against industrialization, and there was a class of people who kept enough of their surplus production that they could buy consumer goods and provide the government with a strong tax base (see the 1873 land tax reform).
Second, protectionism. Consumers in industrializing nations tend to prefer better quality internationally produced goods over domestic ones. The World Bank and the IMF take advantage of this demand by offering terms to buy these goods in the short term in exchange for instituting free trade reforms that prevent industrialization. In contrast, most industrialized nations have spent a significant period of time with their tariffs intensely high. As local manufacturers grow, capital controls and high taxes are used to induce re-investment of profits back into research and development and organic capital. Wages rise, and so do living standards. Now, Japan seems to buck this trend, at least on the surface level reading. Treaties forced Japan to set its tariffs at 5%. However, protectionism isn’t only tariffs. Japan used a number of sneaky tactics in the 1870s to make access to domestically produced goods easier than internationally produced ones. We know these were intentional because Japanese economists around that time generally praised the writings of protectionist advocates like Henry Carey (his works were translated to Japanese in 1870) and Friedrich List (translated in 1888) while denigrating Ricardo’s comparative advantage theory. You can see a lot of their tactics if you look at the complaints registered by the British to their embassy. The Japanese government refused to increase capacity at the treaty ports, built roads and railways from new factories to cities much faster than they built land transport infrastructure from treaty ports, blocked foreigners from going into the interior to assess consumer demands, subsidized domestic production, used the military as a vehicle for research and development on new production techniques, etc. Imports of finished cotton goods from the UK rose through the 1870s, then declined in the early 1880s, marking the point at which the Japanese clothing industry started being able to hold its own. By the late 1880s, imports from the UK were rising again, but so were sales of domestically produced clothes, in tandem with the increasing wages and purchasing power of Japanese workers. This was the feedback loop between the increasing capital intensity of industry and the increasing demand of workers in those industries that leads to self-sustaining industrialization.
Third, technology transfer from the first world. Trotsky’s most important contribution was probably his theory of “uneven and combined development”. Traditional Marxist thought emphasized each country going through stages, as though they each had to progress linearly and independently through a predetermined path. In actuality, capitalists will search spatially for comparative advantages against competitors, leading to capital flooding in and out of spaces in order to create growth zones then dead ones. Third world nations can use state intervention to regulate these flows and ensure that they get the best new technologies, leapfrogging stages. Japan for instance strongly regulates its imports and exports. Initially, it concentrated on areas of high demand in East Asia, where British imperialism required certain raw material outputs, specifically coal, rice, and tea. Any foreign currency gained from this was reinvested back into advanced military technologies, like ironclads, which were then studied and copied back at home. One of the slogans of the imperial government was “strengthen the economy, strengthen the military”, although it tended to work in reverse, with the military getting the best of everything, and the benefits to advances in productive technique working their way down to the private sector, much like with the military-industrial complex in America. South Korea, Taiwan, and China all took advantage of this too. The former two became centers for Japanese offshoring in the 60s, while China became a center for Taiwanese and Korean offshoring in the 80s.
Fourth, government spending. Build yourself a transport and communications infrastructure, a serious education system, and a strong military to ward off imperial powers. These have to be done in specific ways though. Your transportation system is shit if it’s for imports rather than domestic transfer of goods and people. India had more miles of railway than China until very recently, but all it did was facilitate the flow of raw materials out of the country and finished goods in. You need literate people to work in your factories. In India, literacy is being able to spell your name, while in China, it’s knowing how to write 300 words. This takes a vast investment of capital, so those World Bank advisers who say you’re spending too much and you need austerity should be ignored. Japan modelled its education system after Germany’s after it saw how well it worked for that newly industrializing nation. Education was compulsory, nationalistic, taught a standardized language, and disciplined students so that they’d accept hierarchies. Japan also built, at great expense, a railway and telegraph network that stretched across the country. Rails were highly efficient at transporting people for a low energy input. One of the two major loans in foreign currency Japan took out after the Boshin War was to import British railway designers . A military is important not only to fight off foreign imperialism but to colonize other territories for yourself, since if you can expropriate somebody else’s surplus, you can reinvest that in your own nation. Japan was geographically very far from Europe, and British merchants were primarily interested in selling goods to Japan, not taking any natural resources. This made Japan a natural ally of British imperialism in the region, and an alliance lasted from 1902 to 1923 (Later, it would also use its position in the American imperial system to gain a leg up). Japan’s rising military power gave it the ability to ward off other invasion threats, particularly from Russia. By the 1890s, Japan had renegotiated its unequal treaties to remove extraterritoriality from foreign subjects, ended foreign control of tariffs, and had an almost equal spot at the table for the divvying up of China. Japanese colonization of Korea and Taiwan gave it the capital it needed to really jumpstart its industrialization. Grand projects like big ass car factories are a bad idea though. Stuff like when Yugoslavia tried to get into car manufacturing with the Yugo, when Poland tried to get into shipbuilding, or when India tried to industrialize by starting with every heavy industry on the book. It’s a surefire waste of scarce capital resources and a major setback. There’s no demand yet for these goods domestically, and a lack of experience means that other nations won’t want to buy them as exports. You need local conditions to determine development, and central planning to aid it, rather than having everything decided at the central level by people who’ve never been to the region before and who think “make everything look like the first world” is a great idea.
Fifth, currency tactics. Along with its 1873 land reform, Japan also instituted Western-style banking, chartering a new central bank and giving it the power to create a new currency. Since Japan didn’t have the gold reserves to maintain a gold standard, it went on a silver standard instead. This meant its new currency, the yen, was highly devalued against the other international currencies of the time, making Japanese products relatively cheaper. This attracted Western merchants and Western investment, and along with import controls, brought enough gold into the country that Japan could put itself on the gold standard in 1897, allowing it access to the “gold standard club” and boosting exports further. Of course, this is meaningless today, since nobody’s on the gold standard anymore, but it’s a good sign of whether a country has “made it”. The modern equivalent would be when a nation begins to have such a dollar surplus that it has nothing to do other than to buy American debt, as China did in the early 2000s. The more important lesson is to devalue your currency to make your exports more attractive. This can be a double edged sword, because it makes importing goods tougher, and if your people are accustomed to a certain lifestyle based on imported goods, they’ll get angry at the rises in price. However, if you’re industrializing correctly, you should be producing more and more of those goods at home, and so the purchasing power of your currency will be much greater than the trading value is. That also entices people to buy domestically produced goods rather than imported ones. Now, the worst thing for an industrializing country is low liquidity. Inflation is a very poorly understood figure. It can’t be used as just a general figure, since it often comes from rapidly increasing wages rather than prices. It’s used a lot to fearmonger about the amount of money in the system, but high liquidity in a growing economy is almost never the cause of inflation, because true inflation only occurs when there’s more money than there are things to buy. In a growing economy, there’s always a need for more capital, so high liquidity should be a priority, especially in crisis time. The question is how to keep this liquidity from being used for bubbles and push it towards productive investments rather than speculation. Japan teamed up its banks with its industrial corporations in what were called “Zaibatsu”. If a company wanted to build a factory, it would immediately have access to central bank funds since the bank was a part of the company. It was only a matter of writing a few things down on a few sheets, and the money would be created and spent. This prevented issues of low liquidity, and it also meant that most bank money was going to productive investments rather than stock market bullshit. After WW2, America broke up the Zaibatsu since it felt they helped push the country to war, but the Japanese government maintained this level of planning by formalizing the state-private cooperation in a branch of government called the Ministry of International Trade and Industry. MITI was so good at its job that Japan’s 1968 import and export totals were within $100 million of each other, on a budget of $12 billion. America then forced Japan off its undervalued currency peg in 1971, ending that arrangement and limiting some of the power of MITI. It still remains a case study in how to run a developing economy though. Central planning of a sort (“decentralized planning”) and a high degree of public-private coordination has been used at times by virtually all developed economies today, and anybody who says you develop a country by letting the risk-averse private sector lead is just spouting bullshit.
Sixth, social security. Now this is stuff that most countries implement later on because capitalist elites wildly resent being taxed. However, social democracy tends to produce far higher growth rates than any other system, and generally leads to more satisfied workers who strike less. Lets go through a few things you might want to do:
State-guaranteed healthcare. If you have a private healthcare system, either you have people who have to save up large amounts of money to pay for care out of pocket, which puts a drag on demand, or you have insurance companies, drug companies, and doctors in a rentier position, who have every interest in increasing the cost of healthcare as much as possible. Now, if you’re smart and you’re getting your healthcare system in early on, you’ve got one of three choices. You can regulate a market of health insurers, which is probably a bad idea because you’re probably dealing with loads of corruption, so regulations will generally be ineffective. You can build a public system in tandem with the private one, like the NHS, but generally doctors employed by the state won’t be paid competitive prices, which leads to higher quality care in the private system than the public one, like in Mexico. Or you can get a national insurance plan, and use your monopsony power as the sole buyer to pay whatever prices you want for anything. Probably go for the third one. Japan was rather late to start its healthcare system, only getting it in 1961, but it uses a national health insurance plan to keep costs well under control for such an old population.
Public housing. You’ve got people flooding in from the countryside now to get at your higher wage industrial jobs. All these people want homes, driving property prices through the roof. Suddenly, your banks prefer to speculate in mortgages rather than invest in factories. What do you do? You subsidize the cost of housing, cooling off the market and giving your people valuable assets they can use as collateral. Plus, the more the state pays for housing, the more people can spend on consumer goods/the less your capitalists have to pay their workers. Hong Kong, where all land is owned by the state, used this to great effect before 1997 (after that, the PRC wanted to get Hong Kong’s elite on their side, so they stopped building public housing, driving up the prices of the rich’s assets. Except now they have protests because young people can’t afford houses, so joke’s on them!). Japan gave its public housing directly to corporations to provide to their employees so that they could foster a creepy family-style level of intimacy among them as a form of social control, which works I guess.
Unemployment insurance. Most Neoclassical economists believe that people become unemployed as a bargaining tactic with employers for higher wages. This is to mask that it’s in the short-term interest of capitalists to not pay any unemployment insurance, because then workers are forced to accept any wage given to them to get back to work. This is also an example of capitalists putting short term interest above long term interest. Unemployment interrupts consumption, especially in recessionary periods, but generous use of unemployment benefits can restore consumer demand quickly and make recessions painless. This prevents deflation, which is a much greater threat to an economy than inflation. Workers who are unemployed for long periods of time become deskilled, but can be retrained as part of unemployment insurance distribution, especially if schooling is free. Hiring costs go down if the system is used to connect employees with prospective employers. A more stable economy results. Japan has a very poor quality unemployment insurance system, which is some of the reason it hasn’t been able to recover from the lost decade.
Agricultural subsidies, in the form of price floors. To prevent mass unemployment of farmers in times of low prices, the state can buy up a good at a higher price than the market will. By only buying certain goods, you can use this monopsony power to influence the crops grown in the agricultural sector. When loads of farmers go bankrupt in the third world, bad shit happens. The Syrian Civil War in part stems from a quarter of a million farmers who went bankrupt between 2007 and 2011 and then couldn’t get jobs until they were offered money to join rebel groups.
“But nameless untrained political economy enthusiast,” you ask, “if it leads to such a high rate of growth, why would capitalists want to oppose these policies?” Well, it’s because capitalists tend to focus on creating a shorter term stable equilibrium rather than a longer term one, which is why they tend to need a state to whip them into line for any growth to happen in the first place. The problem is, it’s capitalists who have the most control over what states do at any given time, so it’s only in periods of extreme stress that these reforms can occur, like mass strike waves by workers. Hopefully, the theoretical third world nation that you’re developing can avoid that.
Okay, I think I covered everything in the space of a reasonable post. Of course, you can also go anarchist, build a participatory economic planning structure, and democratically decide what to put your social surplus into first, rather than building a whole new economic elite and giving them the levers of power. But if you really want to go capitalist, then this is what you should probably be doing.
If Sasori were a more self-deprecating person, he would admit — given his history of tragically low alcohol tolerance — that the fault for his current predicament rests entirely on his own shoulders. This is the real world, not junior high, and peer pressure is a silly concept used to redistribute blame for stupid decisions.
That aside, this is entirely Hidan’s fault, and Sasori is going to shove broken glass up one of the bastard’s more sensitive orifices once he’s free of this concrete hole.
Sasori leans his forehead against one of the sturdy bars and wraps his hands around its base, aware that the pose is one of the more clichéd options, but uncaring as the cool iron soothes his rising headache. He’s on the fast track to stone cold sober, if the profuse need to vomit and then die is any indication.
I saw a post the other day from another member of the Bellarke Fam, pointing out that we had never heard Bellamy properly laugh throughout the entire show. It inspired me to write this fic so please enjoy. Much love :)
It took Clarke a while to realise that she’d never heard Bellamy laugh. Really laugh. Clarke had always thought that Bellamy was beyond expressive for a man; his happiness like a stifling summer heatwave, his anger a terrifying storm and yet he’d never shown her the most obvious reaction to joy. It seemed like something she should have noticed; she’d lived side-by-side with him from the moment she stepped out of that dropship but it had slipped past her for all this time.
Bellamy hadn’t laughed once since they’d met. Not for her, not for the rest of the delinquents. Not even for Octavia.
the first thing that jimin wakes up to is an egg on his head.
more specifically, a raw egg - wet yolk and whites and all of the gooey, sticky glory that glues to jimin’s hair like kim taehyung to his credit card on super sale saturdays. a raw egg, with the sound of frantic feet skittering away and door slamming shut.
in other words, the first thing that jimin wakes up to is disgust and disorientation.
he shoots up straight in the bed, shrieking a little and wondering what the hell is going down? the nape of his neck, his entire head, feels disgusting, and he rubs at his eyes and tentatively snatches up a sticky, yellow-stained lock of hair before giving something between a groan and a howl.
jimin hates getting wet, or sticky, or just dirty in general, and the fact that the stuff in his hair is a combo of wet, sticky, and dirty makes him jerk his head around the room, scowling, and become acutely aware of jungkook’s absence in the bed.
that’s when it clicks.
“jeon jungkook!” jimin screams, and it could sound intimidating if his high-pitched voice didn’t crack half-way through - then again, he’s never been very intimidating. “JEON JUNGKOOK!”
there’s a cackle - a goddamn laugh - from the other side of the door and the sound of a certain jeon jungkook scampering away. the shuffle of tall legs, the sure-fire gleam of big eyes that’s thunderous through the door even though jimin can’t see it as he snatches a corner of the blanket up and twists out his soggy hair.
“i’ll get back at you!” he growls to the empty room, raising a threatening fist of dramatics and too much time spent watching cheap action movies into the air. “i’ll get back at you if it’s the last i do!”
[ round 2: 1/1 ] needless to say, jimin does.
jungkook isn’t really surprised by this fact (“SWEET LORD AND HIS THIRD AUNT, DON’T SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT!”) because he knows how proud and self-respecting jimin is. therefore, rather, jungkook keeps himself quite on edge all day (“is that jimin, or a blob? iS THAT- no, that’s my shadow, i’m fine!”), and it’s not so much a shock (“NEVER DO THAT AGAIN BECAUSE I’M STILL SCREAMING IN MY SOUL”) when jimin pops up in his line of vision after jungkook just read through the top of his newspaper.
“hey!” jimin greets cheerfully, eyes big and startling over the headline.
jungkook does not jump up from his seat and certainly does not say any of the quotes from above, because he is cool and calm and 100/10 expected this from park jimin.
park jimin, who is grinning at him through the empty space in which the newspaper (which flew out of his hands when he… did not.. jump) used to be. park jimin who, with arms behind his back, hums “jungkook~” so sweetly and so warmly that jungkook thinks he can dip apples in his voice to make caramel apples similar to the cheeks that bunch up when jimin shoots him a heart-stopping grin.
jungkook holds his hand over his chest as a gesture of everlasting affection for jimin’s loveliness, and definitely not because his heart currently going at eight hundred and fifty beats per minute while doing two three-sixties every second. “j-jimin.” jungkook gulps and licks his lips. “w-what is it?”
jimin’s grin becomes saccharine, almost evil -
and then he attacks.
the first thing jungkook can digest is that a pillow is swinging at his face with full force when his cheek goes numb and his left eye snaps shut. there’s something akin to a devilish giggle on jimin’s part, and the second thing that jungkook digests is oh, hell, yeah.
two can play this game.
so jungkook grabs a bunch of pillows from the futon and springs forward.
he doesn’t remember much except a lot of war cries about cinnamon toast crunch and a lot of fluffy white feathers that he can’t see through until about three minutes in when jungkook feels like he’s taken enough cushions to the chest for a lifetime. a little peek of jimin’s hair comes into view, a wave of hands, and jungkook catches jimin by his wrists, triumph bursting into his pillow-traumatized chest as the last of the war has floated to the floor in soft piles.
jimin jars, struggling in jungkook’s hands, pillow still clutched tightly in his fingers, until he lets out a breath through a pout to push his bed-head from his eyes. he shoots jungkook a withering glare from beneath the more stubborn parts of his fringe, and jungkook smiles back.
“let go,” jimin grumbles, tugging his wrists. “jungkook, you brat!”
jungkook still smiles back. he makes his grip tighter.
jimin huffs, and then his tone fluffs up into a breathy sort of sigh, “jungkook.”
jungkook doesn’t know how, but something about that utterance makes a funny short-circuiting happen in his brain, and he can’t help the loose giggle that tumbles out from him. jimin scowls and pouts at the same time, and jungkook wants to bop jimin’s nose and kiss it, peck the button-likeness, kiss his cheeks, kiss the corner of his mouth, the center -
jungkook doesn’t realize he’s been leaning forward, fingers slackening, until he kisses empty air and staggers from both shock and - oof - the impact of a newly swung pillow. his wits are scattered with a few good feathers on the ground as he makes out the skipping of happy feet and the victorious cry of, “winner!!”
jungkook removes a feather from his mouth and sighs.
jimin tricked him.
[ round three: 2/1]
and it’s not the last time that he does, despite jungkook’s beliefs.
the last time is later when jimin is nestled in the crook of jungkook’s neck, hands burrowed in the pockets of the sweater jungkook bought a few months back. it’s too big, flooding around jimin’s frame with big cotton folds, but jimin doesn’t really seem to mind, and jungkook can’t really complain.
jimin breathes on jungkook’s skin, and if jungkook checks later he might have an airplane trail imprinted there. he wouldn’t mind - not when the warmth is making his insides fuzzy and soft.
jungkook laughs, “are we finally having a moment?”
the last time is when jimin giggles -
“dream about it.”
- and then splats an egg onto jungkook’s head.
“nevermind,” jungkook groans. “the moment’s gone.”
[ conclusion: 2/1 whipped ]
the last thing that jungkook drifts off to is the feeling of jimin murmuring into the matted egg stains in his hair that refuse to wash out. it’s something about either “i love you” or “your hair’s gross,” but whatever - it means the same thing.