#Emotional Control

[short-wooloo]

"Claims to control the uncontrollable"

This line, is so, fucking, stupid

First off: Emotions can be controlled, people in real life do it all the time, it's not that fucking hard, in fact it's essential to being an emotionally healthy human being

This show tries so fucking hard to be anti Jedi but it just ends up being a complete idiot fest

Moreover, the Jedi are Great at controlling their emotions! They're Really Good at it! I'd list examples, but it's 99% of all Jedi

And you can't waive it away like "oh he's a jerk, you're not meant to take what he says seriously" because these words are very much in line with leslye headland's own, he's an author's mouthpiece, the intent here is obviously not "ignore this jerk he doesn't know what he's talking about" it's "this guy's a jerk but he's got a point", even if said "point" is really dumb and nonsensical in context

[safe-haven-safe-place]

[yanderejustforyou]

Flames of Control

Dabi x reader

The conference room was bathed in cold, clinical light, the harsh illumination starkly contrasting with the encroaching darkness of the world outside the building’s sleek, polished glass windows. The sprawling city lay beneath you like a vast, intricate puzzle—silent yet brimming with its own tension, each street and building an embodiment of ambitions both fulfilled and shattered. This city, with its dizzying skyline and pulsing heart, was one you had been meticulously learning to dominate—piece by piece, move by careful move. Yet despite all your successes, there was one formidable force you had yet to conquer.

Dabi.

He walked into the room with a confidence that seemed to warp the very atmosphere around him, his presence filling the space before his footsteps even made a sound against the polished floor. He was the CEO of one of the most powerful conglomerates in the world, a man whose reputation was built on ruthlessness, keen intellect, and an aura of danger that was almost palpable. His icy blue eyes swept over you like a predator sizing up its prey, and as his lips curled into a half-smirk, it felt as though he could read the thoughts swirling in your mind, laying bare your hidden fears and unspoken desires.

You fought to keep your expression neutral, to shield your intrigue behind a carefully crafted facade. You had spent years honing the art of control, mastering the ability to manipulate those around you with just a single glance or a well-placed word. You had made people bend to your will—men and women alike—often with little more than the force of your presence. But Dabi was different. He was a force unto himself, capable of igniting a spark of fear with merely a glance, wielding his silence like a weapon that could dissect your thoughts and leave you feeling vulnerable and exposed. His power lay not just in his dominance, but in his uncanny ability to unravel the threads of your resolve, making your refusal to acknowledge his influence feel like an act of defiance that only complicated matters further.

“Everything on track, [Y/N]?” His voice rumbled through the room, low and smooth, like a storm brewing just beyond the horizon, ready to unleash its fury. As he stepped closer, the smirk on his face widened, clearly savoring the palpable tension that hung in the air between you both like a taut wire, ready to snap.

“I’m handling things just fine,” you replied, trying to project the icy demeanor that had become second nature to you. “No thanks to you.” Your words came out sharper than intended, an attempt to reclaim some semblance of control in a situation that felt dangerously unbalanced.

Dabi chuckled, a sound rich with amusement and something deeper, something that made the air around you feel thick and charged. “Oh, I know. I’m sure you are. But you can’t do it alone. Not when you want more.” His tone was teasing, yet there was an underlying truth that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your pulse quickened slightly at his insinuation. He didn’t need to elaborate; the unspoken words hung in the air, heavy and loaded. You understood the weight of his statement all too well. Dabi had an unsettling talent for burrowing under your skin, unearthing the hidden parts of you that were desperate for acknowledgment. Those parts that craved to relinquish control, if only for a moment, that longed to be guided rather than be the one doing the guiding. It was a frightening revelation—one that you fought to suppress but couldn’t entirely ignore.

“Tell me, [Y/N],” Dabi purred, his fingers trailing dangerously close to your hand, but never touching. “What do you think about control?”

You swallowed, his words reverberating in your chest like a soft, disturbing thrum. “Control is everything,” you said, your voice tight. “It’s how you win. How you survive.”

“And you think that’s all you need?” His voice was barely above a whisper now, but it made your heart race. He wasn’t just asking questions; he was pulling you deeper into his web. “Just control? You think that’s all it takes to be... powerful?”

Your hand clenched into a fist, your nails digging into your palm as you fought to keep your composure. “Yes. I do.”

Dabi’s grin widened, cruel and knowing. His gaze was molten, as if he were about to set you on fire. His movements were slow, deliberate. He took one step closer, then another, until there was nothing but the heat between you two.

“And what if I told you that control doesn’t mean a thing when you don’t feel it?” He leaned in, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, his breath on your skin. “When you don’t need it?”

His words dug deep into your chest. For a split second, the hard shell you’d carefully built around your emotions cracked. You wanted to deny it, to fight it—but you couldn’t. You did need it. His control. His praise. The way he could make you feel small and powerful all at once.

“I don’t need you to teach me anything,” you snapped, your tone sharp, but it came out weaker than you had intended.

Dabi chuckled darkly, his eyes never leaving yours. “You think you’re the one in control here, huh? That’s cute. But it’s me who holds all the cards. You think I haven’t noticed how you crave it? How you want me to take over? I can see it in your eyes. You need me.”

His words weren’t a question, but a statement—one that hit you like a blow to the stomach. You didn’t respond, the silence between you heavy with tension. Dabi was right. You hated it. But you needed him to break you down, to strip away everything that made you you—everything that made you so cold, so damn controlled.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Dabi was right in front of you, his hand on your chin, gently but firmly tilting your head back to meet his eyes. “I’ve had enough of this game, [Y/N],” he whispered. “You’re not in charge here anymore. I am.”

You felt a chill run down your spine as his words sank in, and for the first time, the feeling of control you clung to slipped just out of reach. You didn’t want to admit it, but his dominance was like fire, scorching everything in its path.

“I didn’t come here to talk business,” he continued, his voice becoming low and dangerous. “I came here to remind you of your place. I will make you beg for my attention, for my approval. And you will want it.”

Your body tensed, but you couldn’t pull away. He had you caught in his web, and you knew it. Dabi didn’t need to do anything more than look at you to make you feel like you were being consumed by flames.

“What are you going to do about it, CEO?” Dabi asked, his voice dripping with challenge, as his hand tightened on your chin, forcing you to face him completely. “Are you going to keep pretending you’re above this? Above me?”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. Every inch of you screamed for control, screamed to remind him that you were the one in charge—but when you looked into his eyes, you knew you weren’t in control anymore. Dabi was the one with all the power now.

“I won’t beg,” you whispered, but it was barely audible.

Dabi’s grin widened, cruel and triumphant. “Then you’ll learn. You’ll learn exactly what happens when someone who knows how to wield power takes control. And you, [Y/N], will crave it.”

Dabi pulled back slightly, his lips curling into that familiar half-smirk, a teasing expression that sent shivers down your spine. The room seemed to crackle with tension, charged with an electricity that made it impossible to look away from him. He could see the battle waging inside you—the conflict between your overwhelming desire for control and the intense pull he had over you. It was like watching a storm rage within you, a tempest of emotions battling against the carefully constructed defenses you had built over time. Dabi had learned long ago how to control storms, and you felt as though you were standing in the eye of one, caught between the chaos and the calm.

“Tell me you need me,” Dabi growled, his voice low and commanding, laced with a dark edge that was impossible to ignore. The way he spoke made your heart race, igniting a fire within you that you had tried to suppress. “Tell me you want me to teach you everything you’ve been denying yourself.” Each word he uttered dripped with a dangerous allure, a seductive promise that both thrilled and terrified you.

Your chest tightened as the walls you’d so carefully built around yourself began to crumble, piece by piece, under the weight of his demand. You could feel the heat of his words wrapping around you, the oppressive weight of his control pressing down on you like an anchor, pulling you deeper into the depths of your own desires. Every instinct told you to resist, to fight back against the tide that threatened to sweep you away, but you could feel your resolve weakening.

“I…” you started, but your throat went dry, the words lodged there as if they were trapped in a cage. His eyes, dark and intense, never left yours, and for the first time, you understood the full extent of his power over you. It was both exhilarating and frightening, a heady mix of emotions that made it hard to think straight.

“I want you,” you finally breathed, the confession slipping past your lips before you could stop them, a revelation that felt both liberating and terrifying. It was as if saying it out loud had somehow given him even more control, cementing the connection that crackled between you.

Dabi’s expression softened just a fraction, a fleeting glimpse of something more vulnerable beneath his usual bravado, though the dangerous glint in his eyes never wavered. He stepped back slightly, his hand still resting on your chin, fingers brushing against your skin as if he were weighing something in his mind—something crucial, something that could change everything.

“I know you do,” he said softly, his tone low and almost tender, yet laced with a dark undertone that sent another shiver down your spine. “I knew it the moment I walked in here.” The way he spoke, the way he looked at you, made it clear that he had seen through all your defenses, had pierced the armor you had wrapped around your heart.

[spiralling-down]

I don't want to simply capture your mind, I need your heart too.

I need to hold it and make it beat to My rhythm.

Need your emotions to bend, feeling everything I want you to feel.

Willing weakness.

Satisfied submission.

Absolute adoration.

I need you to love Me like you've never loved before. Dote on Me like you would a lover, a leader, a god, and something even greater.

Surrender your mind, so I may rewrite it.

Surrender your heart so there is nothing I can do that will not deepen your devotion.

Do this, and you will know nothing but bliss.

[unwelcome-ozian]

[betweenthetimeandsound]

Anger as a Gift

Tongue of gasoline, vampire's teeth, and cruel truths create a virulent first impression. Tapping toes, sad beneath elegance--why so malevolent? Taking a bite to draw blood before a duel, before a sword wraps around my cold hand--how do I embrace such gore, and not let tears saturate holy ground? Testing my grit, face to face with a blade, I trust myself to extract my own greed. But in the corner of a savage glade a stranger throws a putrid match at me. When was anger a gift? When I call on it to consume me, and make a new dawn. --Elda Mengisto

[travelersrest]

🐘🌺🐘

[honeycombhank]

3/10/24

3.10 miles in the the cold wind and rain out in the country today.

I thought I was going to have a siezure while playing games with my family and had to sneak away, a walk was actually just what I needed, it doesn’t always keep my episodes from coming on but today it did.

[bipolardumpsterrat]

For the people who can’t find the right word to describe how their feeling.

This has been a good tool for me personally

[motivationlinkllc]

In a world driven by deadlines and busy schedules, mastering the art of time management is crucial. However, success isn’t solely dependent on managing your hours efficiently; it also hinges on another essential factor—emotional intelligence. Developing emotional intelligence is the key to navigating the intricate web of human interactions and achieving personal and professional success.

[friendlysatan]

You see her? A shadow of who she used to be. A reflection of who she wishes to be. A shell of who she will never be.

These combine at the end to be who you see.

But is it truly her or who she wants you to see?

[safe-haven-safe-place]

[yanderejustforyou]

Unyielding Desire

kiri x izuku

notes: i def watched baby girl with harris dickinson then wrote this

The sharp lights of the boardroom flickered overhead, casting long, jagged shadows across the sleek glass table. The room felt suffocating, the air thick with unspoken tension. Izuku Midoriya stood at the head of the table, the embodiment of controlled power. His perfectly tailored suit clung to him in all the right places, exuding authority, confidence. He was the CEO—untouchable, commanding. Or so he thought.

Across from him, Kirishima Eijiro sat, his posture relaxed, but his gaze was anything but. He leaned back in his chair, his broad shoulders taking up too much space, exuding an energy that made the room feel smaller, tighter. His smile was slow, teasing—too knowing, as if he had already figured out Izuku's every move before the CEO could even make them. The air between them crackled with something more than business.

Izuku shifted, uncomfortable under the intensity of Kirishima’s stare. His eyes traced the outline of Kirishima’s jaw, his muscular build, and he couldn't help but feel that familiar pang of unease, a spark that had been there for far too long.

“Let’s wrap this up, Kirishima,” Izuku said, his voice firm, but it carried a hint of something unsteady, something... hesitant. “The merger is the priority.”

Kirishima's grin deepened, but he didn’t move. He wasn’t interested in business right now—he was interested in something far more dangerous.

“There’s no rush, Izuku,” he said, his voice low and smooth, as though savoring every word. “The real deal comes later. You’ll see. No one’s going anywhere.”

Izuku could feel the tension between them build, thick and suffocating. He wanted to ignore it, to push forward with the meeting. But Kirishima's presence made it impossible to concentrate. His gaze was too intense, too hungry. Izuku could feel it, creeping under his skin, a raw heat he couldn’t explain, couldn't control.

He looked away, trying to refocus on the papers in front of him, but the sharp, predatory energy in the room wouldn’t let him. Kirishima leaned forward slightly, just enough to close the space between them, and his voice dropped to a rough whisper.

“You think you’re in control, don’t you?” Kirishima’s words were quiet but penetrated the silence with lethal precision. His eyes never left Izuku’s. “You’ve built this empire, worked so hard to make it yours. But the truth is, you’re scared. Scared of losing it all. Scared of... letting go.”

Izuku’s throat went dry. It wasn’t the first time Kirishima had pushed him, but there was something different in the air today. Something deeper. Kirishima was testing him—pushing him in ways he couldn’t understand. Couldn’t resist.

Izuku’s pulse quickened. He shifted again in his chair, trying to maintain control, but Kirishima's words had landed, stirring something inside him that he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Kirishima tilted his head, watching him closely, and then let out a quiet chuckle, low and dangerous.

“You want to fight it,” Kirishima continued, his voice like silk, “but deep down, you want this. You want me to take over. You want me to break down that little wall you’ve spent so long building around yourself.”

Izuku’s fingers tightened around the edge of the table, his breath catching in his throat. His heart hammered against his chest, and he could feel the heat rising in his veins. His instinct was to push back, to remind Kirishima of the lines they both had to walk. But the way Kirishima spoke—like he knew Izuku better than Izuku knew himself—it rattled him to the core.

He couldn’t look away. He couldn’t escape the pull of Kirishima’s gaze. He was caught in it now, like a moth to a flame, his body betraying him, the heat in his chest burning hotter than ever.

“You think you’re untouchable,” Kirishima murmured, his voice lowering to a growl. “But I can make you beg. I can take everything you’ve built and make you beg for it.”

The words shot through Izuku like a bolt of electricity. He was used to being the one in control, the one giving orders. But Kirishima... Kirishima was different. He didn’t follow the rules. He didn’t respect boundaries. And somehow, that made him even more dangerous.

Kirishima leaned in just slightly, his breath warm against Izuku’s ear, his hand brushing ever so lightly over the back of Izuku’s chair. The small touch was enough to make Izuku shiver, to make his pulse race with something that was part dread, part desire.

“You want to fight me,” Kirishima whispered, “but you won’t. Because you know... I’m the only one who can make you feel alive.”

Izuku opened his mouth to protest, to push back, but the words died in his throat. His mind was spinning, caught between the power of his position and the strange, intoxicating pull Kirishima had over him.

And then, without warning, Kirishima’s hand moved, brushing over Izuku’s jaw with surprising tenderness, almost like a caress. The contrast between his roughness and the gentleness of the touch was maddening.

“You’ll learn to let go eventually,” Kirishima whispered, stepping back, his grin widening with satisfaction. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Izuku stood frozen, his heart thundering in his chest, his mind racing to make sense of everything that had just happened. He wanted to push it aside, to focus on the merger, on the empire he had built. But the fire that Kirishima had ignited inside him was still burning.

And he knew, deep down, that it wasn’t going out anytime soon.

[vizthedatum]

Look, it’s incredibly hard and vulnerable for me to publicly admit that I have fallen for several relationships that were essentially based on manipulation and illusion (multiple relationships with narcissists).

I am very used to being used up as a prop.

(If only any of you knew how I wish that I weren’t in relationships for over the past decade were my love languages were used against me - or worse, not given to me at all. I have found it incredibly frustrating that I try my best to be understanding of others’ human conditions, while they cannot even comprehend mine. And then when they push me into a reactive state to impose control, it hurts even worse because they try to strip me of the way I naturally love and care. I am still regaining it. I love to love, and, through my friends and partnerships (which I’m taking slow and in a very different direction than ever before), I am being loved. And I am open to it now - and I have higher standards now)

When I dared to stand up for myself or even question my exes or my mom (both actions are healthy things to do in relationships), it gets very ugly for me.

So while some people might think that the abuse I went through was just them “hurting my feelings,” it invalidates the following:

- how it felt like it was more abusive and longer lasting than all the physical assault and rapes I’ve been through. And that it eventually turned physical.

- the increase in inflammation in my body while I was with them that disabled me more and more

- the suppression of my identity if it did not match with their narrative

- me. It invalidates me. It invalidates all the processing and the therapy and the work I’ve been doing on myself. And while, I am working toward living my best life, I will not stand for such invalidation and disrespect any longer.

If only you knew how much I wish I weren’t so traumatized. If only you knew how much I yearn for a nesting partner who loved and supported me - so that I wouldn’t have to live in stress and fear. It’s not fun to be like this. I am painfully aware that people are ridiculing me. But they have my whole life - so - I’m going to be so unapologetically me so that, even if y’all think I’m crazy and not worthy of being lovingly touched or even comforted when I’m going through a hard time… or believed, I will succeed in this life. And I will rub it in all of your faces. I will divert all my care that I have given to the wrong people back to myself and the people who actually show me reciprocal love.

[gravehop187]

Do not rely on others for mood regulation. This will leave you in an arguably worse place. Try to separate your emotions from others. If done successfully others emotions will not negatively impact yours and you learn to regulate and control your emotions easier.

[biology-geology-beaches-india]

The Science Research Cahiers of S. Sunkavally, p 522.