#and i hope that we find a way to better teach these concepts in a way that gets through to people
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I've been thinking a lot lately about how I've been doing better mentally these past few weeks and a lot of it boiled down to things people have been telling me my whole life. I mean, I had gone through traumatic events some years ago which caused depression. then I fell into a codependent friendship which has worsened my mental state. only now that I have backed out of that friendship and started to think more about myself and how I feel, did I figure out how to keep myself going well.
I found hobbies im interested in, I've been using music I adore to keep my spirits up, I've been getting outside more, getting more exercise, using my phone less, living more in the moment, diversifying my friendships, taking time for myself, etc etc etc
and seeing myself improving in these ways makes me feel optimistic, thinking, these are the things that helped me, they can help you too! it's easy to get excited about that.
but none of those things were the solution to my problem. those were parts of healing, ways to keep my rhythm, ways to give me energy when I feel like going back to what I typically do when I'm depressed.
but they weren't *the solution*. and that made me realize why only now I'm following all this advice that I had been given to me for years and years. why people get so cynical and annoyed when others try to motivate them into getting out of their depression. because staying inside, staying sedentary, overusing phones, avoiding socializing, etc- those things aren't the cause of issues, they're the *symptoms*. and when someone is in a terrible mental state they're not going to realize/notice/care about the things that they're using to cope with their lives.
I don't know what the solution is. everyone's lives are different. for me, it was getting out of a codependent friendship. I don't have the answers. but it's going to be something bigger than just 'getting out more'.
people have to see the future on their own. there are moments when people realize that they have to take their life into their own hands. nothing is easy, but things can get better.
long rant in the tags if you're interested. take care <3
#mental health#depression#it gets better#positivity#this all came from my brain if it doesnt apply to you/if you think its bullshit. then disregard:)#something to think about#these thoughts came from my mental well being the past few weeks + my school forcing everyone to go to a presenter#who talked about mental health and anti drugs and hope i guess#and is felt this separation between what he was saying;i understood the point he was trying to get across#and the atmosphere in the room/what my friends were saying; i understood that what he was saying was lost on most people and useless#because the thing that will help people going thru a hard time isnt an inspirational speech#even if every thing he said was factually correct- the people who really truly need that help are going to say its bullshit#and they may one day realize that he was right all along- but only after a personal shift in attitude#either after a major event occuring/ending- or a long period of time learning#and i hope that we find a way to better teach these concepts in a way that gets through to people#but ultimately no one piece of advice can or will fit everyone. and if there is no genuine connection to learning it; then it will be lost#its a difficult situation especially in the world we live in where depression is an epidemic#i can only hope to make things better in my own life for me. thats what all of us can hope for#take care#<3#long post
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I need more info on the get better children au, especially about when Bill shows up.
*rubs hands together* I finally got some extra time to draw up some new art for this AU, so let's give it some substance >:3 Long post below the read more with extra art :D
Before Euclydia was destroyed, Euclid and Scalene Cipher were some of its most powerful members. Bill saying that everyone loved him as a baby was true for a time; children aren't born very often, and the Ciphers are considered to almost be royalty. It wasn't until Bill's mutation became apparent that people began to shun him. If he had been born to any other family, he likely would have been abandoned.
Though neither Euclid nor Scalene could really comprehend the concept of something being "up", let alone what "stars" could possibly be, both of them used their status to try and find any scrap of forbidden information, hoping that they could find an answer, could find some confirmation that their son wasn't crazy, and didn't need to be blinded by his "medicine."
It was this research that eventually saved their lives. Having the knowledge that it was possible for things to, hypothetically, exist in a three dimensional plane allowed them to pool their powers and create 3D forms for themselves when Euclydia began to burn, pulling themselves off the 2D plane like a sticker being peeled off a page. It wasn't a smooth transition in the slightest, and the flames managed to damage parts of their bodies before they managed to fully free themselves. The rest of their power went into escaping their collapsing reality, and when all was said and done, they were left near catatonic and floating in the space between time and space for many, many years.
They don't really start to recover until a certain frilly guy upstairs nudges them into a new, stable dimension. This one is almost entirely 3D, and inhabited by creatures that look completely alien to the Euclydians. Creatures called humans.
They meet Dipper and Mabel not long after, and the two triangles attach themselves to the babies, doing their best to care for them in their weakened states when their young, unprepared parents fail to be adequate caretakers. Being 2D is far easier for them, so they stick to the walls like shadows and find ways to speak to the twins, slipping into videos and pictures, music and books, their forms changing slightly to match whatever media they slipped into. They teach Dipper and Mabel their colours, shapes, ABC's, ect, comfort them when they get sad or scared, and once they're old enough, how to do basic things like getting themselves food and water when they get left alone too long.
Neither Pines parent really notices their children making grabby hands and babbling at open air at first, though they do become a bit concerned when years pass and they still stare at walls and empty corners like there's something there.
Eventually, as we all know, the Pines twins get shipped off to a sleepy town in Oregon, and Euclid and Scalene are, of course, coming along to watch over their little stars. However, they become deeply uncomfortable when they start to see visages of their son carved into every room of the twin's temporary home.
It doesn't take long for the show's antics to start, but Grunkle Stan gets involved in the twins adventures far earlier because during The Inconveniecing, Euclid uses his ability to manipulate televisions to play one of those old PSA's on loop until he gets spooked enough to actually check on the twins, only to find them missing.
Eventually, through the help of Scalene using a radio to drag up an old advert for the Dusk 2 Dawn, he figures out where they are and arrives just in time to see the tail end of their ghostly encounter. Unable to deny his knowledge of Gravity Falls' weirdness, he and the twins have their Season 1 finale talk that night, and Dipper shows Stan Journal 3, which leads to all three of them searching for Journal 2 (Stan doesn't reveal the portal yet)
Bill gets summoned by Gideon like in Canon, but things veer wildly off course when, upon entering Stan's mind, Mabel asks him if he knows Euclid or Scalene. He freezes up upon hearing the names of his parents, and he immediately calls off the deal with Gideon, ripping himself out of Stan's Dreamscape. Before he can process what happened, he comes face to face with someone he's only seen in daymares for the past trillion years
Bill dips the fuck out once he realizes he's not hallucinating, disappearing to Axolotl knows where to do fun, productive things such as: scream, cry, break shit, sob on the floor, drink until the teeth in his eye ache, stare at the space between stars for days on end, and interrogate every single one of his henchmaniacs to see if they spiked his drink.
Mans has absolutely zero clue on how to navigate this situation, eventually settling on stalking the Pines because he genuinely cannot think of any possible way to approach his (apparently alive????) parents. How do you go about atoning for the extinction of your entire species?
Bill Cipher has never been one to do things for others for any other reason than to get something back, but he figures the best place to start is by protecting these fleshy human young that his parents seem so attached to.
Wait, would that make them siblings? Axolotl, he sure hopes not.
#the book of bill#the book of bill spoilers#gravity falls#bill cipher#gravity falls au#dipper pines#mabel pines#grunkle stan#stanley pines#euclid cipher#scalene cipher#get better children au
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address the feeling
recently i’ve been thinking about my understandings of the law and i decided to read again some of the stuff i read at the beginning of my journey. i’m glad i did because i now have a deeper understanding of what i thought i understood before, but actually never truly grasped its full meaning.
i have to be honest with you sometimes i still have my moments of anxiety, i still have my mind wondering if i’m doing things right and once in a while i still ask myself if i’m doing enough. shocking right? from my posts you may be thinking that there’s no one that understands the law better than me and you may be thinking “she must have the most perfect self concept i can’t wait to get there”
truth is: we are all humans at the end of the day and we are gonna have our moments, no one is better than anybody and the fact that my posts have helped people fill my heart with joy because i do not think of myself as a teacher, i merely try to share the notes of what i studied for myself and try to write it in a way that can reach anyone easily.
i haven’t felt inspired to post something in a while now, i was just numb cause i thought “there’s nothing else i could possibly share my thoughts on” and i have drafts of posts i have started writing but never finished because i didn’t feel called to do it and i don’t like to force myself to write something.
all my posts come from a burst of inspiration and i write them all at once (or at least i try) seizing the moment in which i feel the most inspired.
this being said what i’m about to address in this post is probably the most important teaching i have come across while reading the source and reading some material again has struck me with inspiration.
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“feeling is the secret.”
what does that mean?
to say that feeling is the secret is to say that feeling is the womb in which all things are born, when felt an idea has to be expressed whether you like it or not, unless you change the feeling and fuse your imagination with its opposite.
you see your physical world has no way of existing if it wasn’t for your imagination, it reflects that and the ideas you believe to be true.
“yeah alia you’ve said that”
i know i know, i have addressed this, these are the basics, but bear with me.
pay attention to what i’ve just said “it reflects the ideas you believe to be true”.
how tiring does that sound? does that mean we have to change our beliefs? does that mean we have to do shadow work and see what ingrained belief we have to dismount?
it doesn’t.
self is what we believe to be true and what gets reflected? self.
inevitably when we start to think about this we think we have to find a magical way to change our beliefs and to trick our mind into believing something new about ourselves or we pretend in hopes to fake it till we make it. we begin this journey prepared to train ourselves, prepared to do dozens of techniques and we fill ourselves with hope.
self is what we believe to be true in this world of imagination, our beliefs get reflected and this is why not every single thing we imagine gets reflected. yes, imagination gets always reflected and it happens instantly, but for that to happen you must believe in the reality of said idea.
what is a belief?
a belief is something, an idea, a concept YOU feel to be true. you is the key word because the sole operant power is you, in your life your world operates according to your assumptions, in your life there is no other creator but imagination, YOUR imagination.
a belief is something you feel to be true because a belief it’s just an idea and it’s powerless until we feel it to be true.
why do we feel it to be true? we decide it is.
you decided that your friend was rude to you because they don’t want to be your friend anymore; you decided that your partner was losing feelings because they were distant one day; you decided you were going to fail the test even if days away because you didn’t feel good enough.
you decided the reason your friend was rude to you was because they didn’t want to be your friend anymore, even if just yesterday they asked you to hang out.
you decided the reason your partner was acting a bit distant today was because they are losing feelings, even if just yesterday they said how much they loved you and bought you flowers.
you decided you were going to fail the test before you even started studying for it because you decided you weren’t smart enough, even if the last test you did went beautifully.
you have been making decisions dismissing the senses your whole life and probably occupying states that do not serve you at all without even realizing it. you have misused your power for so many years it feels too good to be true to finally realize it’s all in your hands.
to decide that your friend was rude because they don’t want to be your friend is just as easy as deciding they just had a bad day and accept that as true.
to decide that your partner is losing feelings because they are acting a bit distant today is just as easy as deciding they just were busy today and accept that as true.
to decide that you’re going to pass the test and that you are smart enough is just as easy to accept as true.
how? how can i accept that as true if reality is showing me the opposite? how can i accept it as true if i failed in the past?
we always disregard appearances, we always disregard and dismiss the senses and accept things as true based on our imagination. there is no outside reality because the true reality is within and as within so without. you accepted it as true and now it is expressing in your life, your mirror is just reflecting what you decided to be true, you had no other proof when you started assuming those negative things about yourself and about others.
think about it! when you first started worrying your partner was losing feelings, did you have proof of it? did you have concrete proof that made you think they wanted to dump you? i think you made an assumption, decided it was true hoped with all your heart it wasn’t, but felt it to be true and soon you were provided with proof and there you go: “just like i thought”.
you decide everything all the damn time!! trust me this is nothing new, the thing is that when it comes to positive things we want to believe to be true we think we need proof, and what is proof? the permission to believe something as true. the 3D never played a part in this, when it came to you assuming negative things about yourself or about others you didn’t think about how it wasn’t true on the outside, did you? when you started feeling insecure in your relationship and worried they would dump you, did you think about how it wasn’t “real” on the outside? did you worry about how the outside was opposite so it couldn’t possibly be true?
no, you didn’t.
you decided it was true, trusted it, dismissed the senses even when completely opposite and soon enough the universe, god, whatever you believe in, provided proof for you.
the power we have is the power of dismissing the senses, the power of deciding what is true or not. and you do that using imagination as your instrument. yes, imagination gets expressed but imagination is not just the silly little scenarios you make up, imagination is your mental activity and what gets expressed is what you believe to be true in imagination.
again when it came to negative stuff you were well aware that the outside was opposite from what you believed to be true but you didn’t care one bit and it still manifested into your life. your lover was distant one day, you assumed they lost feelings, the next day they tell you how much they love you and you assume they are lying, you assume the outside isn’t as true as what you believe to be true inside.
you sustain that feeling, you trust it, and it gets expressed.
you never actually waited to look at your partner and see them telling you they were losing feelings before you assumed they were. you never worried about what the 3D was showing you, you never CARED for it.
when you assume something new about yourself and you imagine yourself to already be the one you wish to be you do so because by imagining you are experiencing it in the true reality. imagining it to be already realized helps because your imagination is a tool, it’s an instrument that makes it easier to trust the new idea you decided to assume about yourself because you actually experienced it.
when you imagine yourself in a new state and you do so by, for example, conjuring up a scene, you do so because you want to experience what you desire. you want to live it, you want to experience it and feel it to be true, that’s what the scenes are for, you visualize a scene that implies your objective realized and you indulge in that peacefully enjoying it.
you don’t have to necessarily visualize scenes, affirm, or do this or that technique. these are just tools, methods you can use to use your imagination in a way that is most comfortable to you. for example i am naturally a visualizer so to get myself in a new state sometimes i find it helpful to conjure up a scene that implies my objective realized and experience it, i enjoy it fully and when i open my eyes i trust the implications of that scene to be true, i just experienced it, who’s gonna tell me i didn’t?
what you need more than anything is to give yourself permission to trust in the reality of imagination, that’s the only thing you need.
yes, you are allowed to believe you are good enough for that job; you are allowed to believe you are safe and secure in relationships; you are allowed to believe anything you want no matter how far fetched it might seem.
you can be so bold with your scenes, or your affirmations. you imagine the most perfect scene or say the most wonderful affirmations but i dare you to be as brave with feeling as you are with your scenes and your words.
i dare you to accept it is true, i dare you to believe it is true because you said it is, and then again i’m not talking about the outside!!! i’m talking about imagination because imagination is the only reality. if it is true in imagination and it is because you can just DECIDE it is, then it’s truth. there’s nothing more to do on your part, you just sustain that state and everything else will take care of itself.
free yourself entirely in your mind and accept as truth whatever you desire to be true about yourself, you can imagine yourself to be confident, smart, beautiful, loved, cared for and you can give yourself permission to accept it to be true inside of imagination and see yourself exactly how you want to see yourself.
stop caring about how it’ll happen or if it will happen or what will happen and just FEEL.
FEEL WHATEVER YOU TRULY WANT TO FEEL.
address the feeling
what do i mean by that?
pay attention to your mental activity for one day and see where your mind wonders naturally, that will tell you your current state.
let’s say you get ugly thoughts, you think you’re not enough and that you are going to fail the test you have in two weeks. pay attention to your mental activity and see how the thoughts FOLLOW the feeling, and not viceversa. first you get the feeling of unworthiness and then you start thinking “i’m not enough i will fail i can’t do this”, there is no inherent truth in those thoughts.
it may be difficult to notice at first but everything starts from a feeling and then the thoughts follow. there is no thought you have to flip because they hold no truth and no power by themselves, they are simply a manifestation of your FEELING.
fearful feeling gives birth to fearful thoughts. anxious feeling gives birth to anxious thoughts. lonely feeling gives birth to thoughts of loneliness. insecure feeling gives birth to insecure thoughts.
the only reason why you believe something to be true is because you FEEL it. there’s no actual truth in those fearful, anxious, insecure thoughts.
YOU FELT FEAR and the fearful thoughts came along and then you started worrying about them manifesting into your life. YOU FELT INSECURE and the thoughts of insecurity and unworthiness came alone and you started feeling bad about yourself and unworthy of your desire.
just as easily as you felt insecure you can feel secure, just as easily as you felt fear you can feel safe.
you create the feeling you desire to feel and you indulge in that, you FEEL it because why would you deny yourself of such experience if you can have it?
why would you deny yourself from experiencing what you want in your own mind? why would you create blockages? why don’t you feel what you want to feel? because you are scared? scared of what? of it not working? working for what?
this is not a method for fuck’s sake. this is not a technique!!! this is how you are living, this is how you have lived and how you’ll always live.
change your feeling, allow yourself to feel what you want to feel and thoughts will naturally come from that, and from thoughts will come actions and from actions will come events. NATURALLY.
there’s no work on your part, meaning that you don’t have to worry about what you need to think or do, you will naturally do that. and this goes for opposite action too: if you’re manifesting to pass all your tests with straight A’s and you go and decide to sit on your ass all day without studying you are still messing with the how! you are pretending you have something IN THE MIRROR when you DON’T! you have it in imagination ONLY. your job is to change self and you don’t change self by pretending or acting as if you have something in the mirror.
your job is to simply FINALLY give yourself permission to actually FEEL.
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Feminist theory is not the same as feminist activism, which is what I specificied in my ask, intentionally. There is feminist theory about men's issues (yes Bell Hooks is by far the most famous theorist in this space), and that is good, but it is not the same as activism to improve men's conditions in the here and now. I wanted to give a different perspective, and have a discussion about something that I feel is a problem that has lead to and continues to lead to a lack of progress for men. I mean, the other ask you got saying thst feminism persistently centers men just by talking about our issues, that proves my point. That is an incredibly common view. Not even working towards solving men's problems, just talking about them occasionally is considered too much. There is an obvious solution to that, which I said previously. Regardless, I am and will continue to believe in the cause of fighting to improve things for both women and men, because we all deserve better. Anyway, I won't bother you anymore, but I hope you know this was written in good faith about something that is important to me.
Theory informs activism, so if you want to see feminist activism that does what I'm talking about, find the feminists talking about what I'm talking about.
Respectfully, despite referencing the other ask, you seem to have not read it if your stance is still "what has feminist activism done for men", because I gave pretty direct examples there.
But you're right. That sort of feminism is harder to find especially nowadays. A lot of people's feminism regards men as "ewwww boys are icky" and "men are 100% solely responsible for all of women's problems". Which was the entire point of my post that started this conversation. It's also compounded by the fact that a lot of times this doesn't look as big and loud as rallies and marches, and so it gets ignored. In reality, the feminist activism that follows the theory I'm describing looks like parents teaching their sons that gentleness and femininity is not bad. Dads who wear nail polish and tutus to support their sons' interests. Boys being encouraged to watch and read the "girl books" and "girl movies". Dads who do not abandon their sons' need for physical affection as they age out of fear of homosexuality.
It looks like restructuring the ways we look at sexual assault and rape so it doesn't automatically exclude the most common way men are attacked. It looks like teaching young men that they do not need to take abuse from a romantic partner or family member on the chin just to be a man. It looks like teaching men that "masculinity" does not need to be defined by stoicism and that the concept of "manning up" is harmful. It looks like teaching boys that there are ways to communicate affection that aren't violent or sexual in nature. It looks like teaching teenagers that playful ribbing is one thing, but tearing your friends down all the time so you can be the biggest man on the block is toxic behavior, and only leads to more isolation because all your friends learn to be mean to each other.
It teaches young men that pleasuring your partner involves more than just a penis, and sometimes doesn't even require a penis at all. It teaches them that their worth is far less in the length of their shaft or the hardness of their muscles or the number on the scale, but far more how they treat others. It teaches them that height and beard length and shoe size and how much alcohol they can consume or their favorite sport team aren't indicators of "manhood", because they are men regardless of the answers to any of those things. It teaches them they can be any type of man they want to be, they don't have to be what the patriarchy tells them are their only options.
And I know this, because I have watched plenty of my butch friends who are devout feminists and have been their entire lives teaching these things to their sons. This is established feminist theory that has existed for a long time. Many followers of this theory do in fact practice what they preach.
Genuinely, I don't really care what you call it. If you want to call it "man's liberation", go for it, I don't care. But to me, this is just feminism. I'm not going to call it men's lib because the feminism I was taught by the women in my life covered these things. Same as how I don't use the word "transandrophobia" because the trans theory I was taught by the trans women in my life told me "transmisogyny" covered these things.
Anyway. I urge you to go read some black feminist theory and then spend some time talking to practitioners of said theory. It might just surprise you how similar the conversation is. It might surprise you to see how their kids and families interact. I'm not saying all black people, because not every black person who is a feminist is specifically a *black feminist*, but when you find someone who fits this description you will know.
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a love so cruel, it's a sin.
rafayel x mc (they/them | GN reader)
god of the tides, forbidden sea timeline
word count: ~1.5k
tw: angst, blood, murder, stabbing, major character death
summary: love will be the downfall of lemuria. rafayel has heard this one too many times and thought of it as a bunch of rubbish words, not that he would ever fall for someone, right? how can someone fall when all they have been taught is to protect and rule over an entire civilization. he would have a horrible wake up call that forces him to choose... his people, or them.
writer's note: this is the first time i'm using they/them, so if you see any mistakes or me using feminine pronouns, please excuse it. i'll look through this again at a later time. anyways, i hope you all enjoy this because phew... it's been a while since i posted something like this and oof. just stashing it.
to kiss a lemurian is to grant the human the ability to breathe underwater.
they remembered something in the myths they read through the duration before the day they were to be sacrificed to satisfy the sea god and keep the lands safe from the god’s rage. so they had already accepted their faith; however, of course that acceptance washes away like the waves crashing against the ship that held the offerings and them.
rafayel, annoyed by the humans, could only scoff as he overheard the men speaking about what the sacrifice and offerings will do for the sea god. all rubbish.
and he thinks they’re no better than the rubbish he was brought up to believe in or rather place his duties upon.
to protect and rule over the entire civilization of lemuria.
love would be the downfall of lemuria.
suppose the seas are lucky that rafayel had no inkling when it came to love. it was hard to even form some understanding with the concept when it was never introduced. his devout follower shouldn’t have anything to do with him possibly falling in love with them. they were just a tool for the elders (such as himself) to ensure the survivability of lemuria.
the elders never truly cared for anything else other than their sea god and lemuria.
and rafayel had no inkling as to why he would save the human, perhaps it was to get back at the humans for the misconceptions about sacrifices and to appease the angry god or perhaps he was so desperate to find a devout follower just to get elder amund off his back about the prophecy. regardless, he now had the human with him, but he didn’t know how much they were going to mean to him.
the elders saw it immediately the moment rafayel brought the human into one of the rooms rather than in some cellar below the palace. they see the way rafayel looks at his newfound devout follower and what was once something innocent and nothing derived from feelings within they had made sure rafayel would never experience to make the ceremony run as smooth as possible.
the past transgressions of the prior sea god were beginning to show in rafayel and the elders have then since begun panicking. somewhere in the cracks of the prophecy on the slate spells the tragedy of a god falling in love with a human and the downfall of lemuria would commence.
it was hidden underneath the gold paint that was near impossible to wash off, so no one, but the elders knew of the mistakes that were made and what had to be done in order to ensure the fall of lemuria will never come true.
that is why rafayel’s teachings had nothing to do with falling in love. if anything, they would deter him from even looking into the subject.
“what exactly is love, elder amund?”
“something that will bring down the entirety of the civilization we have lived with for many years.”
“is it truly that horrible?”
“love blinds you from your duties. it pulls you into the depths of nothingness—a facade of something beautiful that evidently makes you forget your people. you... forget who you are.”
rafayel thinks thinks it’s a bunch of bullshit, but then again, the concept of love never crosses his mind. if he were to pursue such a thing, it would be to spite the elders. and so he thought that was exactly what he would be doing.
until it wasn’t just out of spite, but out of feelings that they managed to pull from him. it is shared between glances towards one another, the subtle brush of rafayel’s fingers against theirs, and the fleeting kisses the god would steal from them.
it is only a tragedy when the god loves a human back.
rafayel figured out what the elders were planning to do. the day he brought the human back to the surface under the guise of having them show him what the sunrise looks like, he meant to keep them there and not to return to lemuria, but little did rafayel know that the elders had already spoken to them about the truth of the ceremony.
how rafayel needs their heart otherwise he and the rest of lemuria would be turned to seafoam and all its glory would crumble to ruins. they agreed to continue the ceremony unbeknownst to the god himself. that is until something his devout follower stated made him aware that they were willing to give their heart just for him to continue his duties.
his duties he never wanted to begin with.
and it is then that he utterly despises, not only the elders, but his existence in general.
the night comes to where all hell is let loose.
rafayel had made it clear to the elders that he would not abide to prophecy and surely there is some other way to maintain the entirety of lemuria without having to cut the heart of a human out of their chest.
“it is rubbish.”
“it is the prophecy, rafayel!”
“then i refuse to do so... i—”
“do not speak it, those words should not be carried through the currents.”
rafayel pauses with a smirk on his face. “i love them. i will not take their heart even if they are willing to do so.”
“rafayel!”
but rafayel was already gone and meeting with his now lover, holding them close and cupping their face. they share a kiss and then more, limbs tangled between the sheets as they proclaim their love to one another. neither of the two lovers knew of the horrors that would come after their first and last time intertwined both in body and soul.
that would be their final night together. spoken secrets between the two, the pinnacle of lemuria’s impending downfall.
it comes too quickly and rafayel is enraged by his foolishness. he is too late when he meets with them again. he already felt something off. the way they smiled at him wasn’t the way he remembered them doing so. it felt distant, as if something else was controlling them. they weren’t the person he had allowed himself to fall for.
“rafayel, my love... come closer. i’ve missed you. i need you.” they whisper with a knife behind their back. “let us leave this place and live together happily. would you not like that, my lord?”
“you—” he shakes his head, but his feet move. his body yearned for theirs, there’s a scent he catches from them, oddly enough through the currents of the water that pushes against them, their clothes flowing by it and he couldn’t help but continue the steps towards, almost as if hypnotized as he gets closer to to them before stops before them. “this is not you.”
“or perhaps... you never know who i truly was. did you not wish to take my heart for the sake of all of lemuria? how foolish, rafayel. you are utterly fool—”
they stop the moment rafayel grabbed their face and pressed his lips hard against theirs as if somewhere in the back of his head, that kiss would break whatever spell the elders had placed upon her. “come back to me.” he whispers, desperately as he clings onto them. “come back to me, and we will escape this place. just me and you—”
but his efforts are proven futile; his lack of ascension to godhood did not match the ancient powers of the elders who have lived much longer than he has. their magic is far more potent than anything he was able to conjure. and he knows this the moment he feels a dagger—his dagger—stabbed through his chest. the blade twists and pulls, repeatedly. he lost count after the first few stabs and yet he holds onto them tighter.
“i will not... i cannot kill you like they wish for me to do... my love, my devout follower... my... my beloved pearl.” he speaks weakly, between harsh breaths.
but he watches as his lover’s face twists into something foreign to him. the look in their eyes lost to the spell and he watches as their resolve slips.
they’re laughing.
they’re taunting.
“oh, rafayel, help me! help me! save me from this wretched curse placed upon me!” they giggle with a mocking tone that pierces through rafayel's chest until he finds himself collapsed on the floor.
he couldn’t understand if this was their true nature or the nature of the spell, but he feels the pain intensifying even more as his lover’s face contorts to something of sheer insanity. they flee the palace and the wake of their rampage, shrills coming from within the palace walls carry through his ears. and his final moments punctuated by the elders filing into the room.
“we tried to help you, sea god.”
“those who go against what is written in the prophecy must be punished.”
“this is what lemuria becomes because of your betrayal.”
“this is your fault.”
“you chose them over your people; you chose love... and love will be the downfall of lemuria.”
the words ring in his mind as visions of lemurians being slaughtered fills his head and the last of it was the beginning and ending to the lemurian civilization and whalefall city brought to ruins with the rest of lemuria soon to follow suit.
all because he had chosen love. and tragedy spares no one, not even the gods.
#not beta read btw#blood#stabbing#murder#major character death#angst#rafayel#rafayel love and deepspace#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel lnd#lnd rafayel#rafayel lnds#lnds rafayel#rafayel l&ds#l&ds rafayel#love an ddeepspace#lnd#lnds#l&ds#rafayel x reader#reader x rafayel#lnds drabbles
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I am deeply, deeply afraid of God (Allah) i just want to say... lets for a moment say it's true. Lets say if you don't believe in allah, you will go to hell and be tortured there (ik you don't believe that, just asking you for a second to humor me)
What if... i reject faith and I die. What if it's true? Then it will be too late. God then (according to the quran) 😔 will not forgive. What will I do if it turns out to be true? Can't go back then..
I'm afraid. I can't live without Allah. I reject the mysogyny and the pedophilia bc that is NOT fucking okay. But i cannot live without allah. I'm afraid of death.
I'm sorry
Thank you for sending this ask ❤️
I want to talk about Pascal’s wager, because this is a popular concept that was argued between Christians and Atheists when I first got into debate. Pascal’s wager was proposed by a Christian, and his argument was yours: It’s better to just believe in God and follow Christ’s teachings “just in case”, that way if it’s true, you go to heaven, and if not, then at worst you just wasted some time. Because if you don’t follow the faith, and risk it being true, then you go to hell. So the least risky avenue would be to follow the religion��
This is a logical fallacy: it doesn’t make sense when put to the test of rational thought. This risk to reward analysis would only work if there was one religion.
There are thousands of religions, almost all of them punish non believers. What if Christianity was right? Now you risk going to their hell by being a Muslim. What if Hinduism is correct? What if the ancient Greeks were correct, and you will now be punished by Zeus?
There is no safety in choosing a faith, almost all of them rule by fear and will punish you if you make the wrong choice out of thousands…There is only one rational conclusion : none of them are correct, and our life is simply ruled by the principles of science. When we die, we decompose, and new life is created. We are made of dying stars, and will become a dying star once again… You can find beauty in that or not, but it’s the simple truth.
There is also another logical fallacy with Pascal’s wager when it’s proposed by Muslims: intent is everything with good deeds. We know this, it’s taught repeatedly to us. If you pray wrong for years, and learn the right way, they still count because of your intention. You can’t force someone at gunpoint to be Muslim or pray because any worship done without pure intention is not a true good deed, and won’t be counted for judgement day:
You can not make yourself believe something. You either do, or don’t. It’s not a choice: you can actively work against it for years, but in your heart, you know what your true perspective is. I know the sky is blue, I can keep trying to make myself believe it’s not, but it won’t work. If you pray to Allah for years, and in the back of your mind you know he doesn’t exist, those prayers don’t count. The only unforgivable sin is being an unbeliever in Allah… that’s the one thing that Muhammad can’t argue on your behalf on judgement day. And it’s also the one thing you can’t make yourself do: once you realize how fake it all is, you can’t make yourself unsee the lie.
I hope this helps! ❤️
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Walpurgis Rising Trailer Analysis
So this is basically my magical girl blog so I had to make this. I’ve loved pmmm for so long and I had a mini heart attack when I saw the trailer was out. Spoilers for pmmm, Rebellion, and the Wraith Arc ahead.
Here’s the trailer if you haven’t seen it already: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=TGxyrO-27dQ&pp=ygULYW5pcGxleCB1c2E%3D
General Speculation:
So let’s start with everyone’s main speculation. Most people who watch the trailer believe that in this new world Homura created, she’s the one who created magical girls, which I also believe. In the beginning of the trailer Homura says:
“Can you accept the risks and responsibilities?”
Before she says this a phone can be heard ringing which comes from where her soul gem should be. This means that Kyubey is no longer in charge of wish granting and or choosing magical girls.
One thing that I find interesting is that the Clara Dolls (Homura’s familiars) call her “Akuma Sama” or “Devil” if you watched the trailer with the subtitles.
I believe this shows that Homura is taking the role of Kyubey. If magical girls are being chosen by Homura like we speculate, it means that they are literally making a deal with the “devil.”
Even in the Wraith Arc when things were significantly better there was still a cycle of hope and despair with magical girls still having the risk of getting their feelings eaten by wraiths. Homura’s world still needs despair in it, meaning that being meguca is still suffering. In fact, it might be Homura’s way of punishing Mami, Sayaka, and Kyoko.
Homura’s New World:
This versions of Homura’s world seems a lot more stable than Rebellion since it’s no longer a controlled environment. Homura has full control and self awareness of what she’s doing.
One of the shots we get of this new world is a shot of Madoka, Sayaka, and Hitomi presumably walking to school. They are surrounded by flowers with light shining down on them. I believe this is supposed to represent the world that Homura wanted to create for Madoka: A place that’s beautiful and carefree. Even in the trailer Homura says: “This world is for Madoka.”
Then we got shots of how Homura and the other magical girls might see the world. It looks heavily industrial with the sky being filled with reds and oranges.
This can show that Madoka is most likely in the dark about what’s really going on around her, at least in the beginning.
Magical girls (and their outfits)
If Homura is the one granting wishes and choosing magical girls, I believe that the change in outfits has to do with how Homura sees Mami, Sayaka, and Kyoko.
Mami’s new outfit is similar to her old one in a lot of ways but the change is most definitely noticeable. Her outfit looks a lot more free flowing and focused more on the fashionable aspect of magical girl outfits.
Homura has always seen Mami as the mature leader. Along with Madoka, she was the first magical she meant and in the other timelines she’s the one that coaches Homura and teaches her how to use her abilities. It’s even speculated that Homura chose guns as her weapon because of Mami.
It doesn’t look like Kyoko’s outfit changed that much. Her soul gem does look bigger but that could be intentional or just a design choice.
From I can see, it looks like there’s a black undershirt underneath the top piece of her outfit but that doesn’t give us much for symbolism.
If you look at her gloves it looks like Sayaka with the gold band around the edge. This could show her connection to Sayaka.
What’s most noticeable is her hair that still appears long but seems a lot more spiky. This could represent Homura seeing Kyoko as a tomboy and exaggerating that concept.
The reason why I think Kyoko’s outfit didn’t change much is because worked good together and that Homura sees her in a better light than she does Mami and Sayaka who she believes are constantly getting in her way. Kyoko was the one Homura went to when she needed a teammate: Wanting her to help with Walpurgisnacht in the original and Homura reaching out to her in Rebellion.
I saved Sayaka for last because she has a lot going on. The bandages on her face and her cape looking more like a coat looks like it could reflect her wish of healing Kyosuke and all the time he spent in the hospital. It also goes along with her ability of healing.
Sayaka is heavily covered up with the cape, bandages, long sleeve, and gloves. This could be seen as Sayaka disguising herself or hiding who she really is like in Rebellion.
If you have seen the concept movie trailer, Sayaka looks different but one similarity is having something cover her mouth. This could represent secrecy or Homura trying to silence Sayaka.
Homura has always had problems with Sayaka. Such as Sayaka accusing her of different things in different time lines such as working with Kyoko, trying to blow her up with bombs, and lying about magical girls turning into witches. In Rebellion, Sayaka was the one who called Homura out and actually stood a threat to her.
If Homura is making magical girls I feel like it’s possible she could be going out of her way to punish Sayaka which is really tragic. I think it’s obvious that Sayaka is my favorite character.
The New Magical Girl:
In the trailer we are shown what could potentially be a new magical girl.
This new magical girl is shown to wield Homura’s bow but also have abilities similar to Mami with what looks like red ribbons. Her outfit also looks similar to Homura’s but she has a light hair color in a ponytail.
My personal theory is that this magical girl represents Walpurgisnacht. Walpurgisnacht is an amalgamation of witches which could show why she’s seen using different weapons and abilities of other magical girls.
The trailer describes Walpurgisnacht as a “fool who goes around in circles” which represents both Homura and Madoka. Both of them were affected by karmic destiny as the clock kept turning. This new magical girl could be the aftermath of messing with karmic destiny.
Dang this is long. Maybe I’ll make a second part of this that focuses more on Kyubey, Madoka, and Homura.
#Pmmm#puella magi madoka magica#walpurgis no kaiten#walpurgisnacht rising#pmmm concept movie#madoka magica
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WoT Musing: Bits and Bobs from a book nerd
A few unsorted/random thoughts from a book mega nerd about various things in the show-
It's interesting to me that they changed Logain's innate talent from being able to see ta'veren to being able to see when a man can channel or not. This is practically probably because Mat was also in that scene, but I've also noticed that they've dialed back on the use of the term 'ta'veren' as a whole this season. Probably to avoid over cluttering all the concepts their having to introduce.
Elayne's desire to work with her hands/fascination with craftsmanship showing itself in her 'sparker trick' being a weave to make alcohol is very funny and on brand.
The show is continuing to walk out the small shifts in it's dynamics born of re-ordering things in a smart way. Everyone being slightly older was felt sharply in season 1: Mat's mischief and gambling is a whole lot less cute and a whole lot more worrying since he's no longer a teen, Perrin is married (like always intended to be) and settled as the most 'responsible' of the boys, etc. In season 2 Egwene arrived first instead of Elayne, and is the more experienced/knowing Novice, to Elayne's naive newcomer. As a result we get to see the slightly spoiled sweet girl she was before the Tower started to bust down her pride and teach her more about the world. She's a little more unsure, and a little more eager to make friends- both of which work in favor of showing off her strengths as a character, endearing her to both Egwene and the audience.
The choice to give Perrin the ability to see visions of the past with his wolf brother powers is interesting. I get that they need a visual way to express Perrin's wolf senses, and this is probably the most direct, since their's not a non-weird way to visually depict smell, but I hope we at least get a TAR related explanation from Elyas.
I find the use of the Crimson Thorn as a symbol of the Red Ajah and the cruel mercy that they grant to be fascinating. More over, I find Nynaeve's being pulled between the Red and Yellow Ajahs (something I suspect we are going to get more of) to be smartly done: Nynaeve has never been afraid of doing what needs to be done, but that doesn't make it easy, and Liandrin is right: to an extent that their always been a little bit of Red in her, a belief that the world would be better if everyone just followed her rules. And yet it is her compassion that defines her, that fuels her rage most of the time. Compassion for those hurt and sick and dying turns to rage against what caused it: a cruel world or a war or a sickness. Compassion for those she cares most for fuels her rage at those that would threaten, hurt, or control them. She left the Two Rivers to protect the EF5 and that remains her goal all the way to the series's end, her character arc is largely about accepting what that will mean, and learning not to be afraid to claim the power to do that.
I've said this in various other forms but it bares repeating: Lanfear really is winning right out the gate. She's got the hot new hardware LTT as her naive sugar baby, their is no one in sight to threaten her control over him with things like 'morals' and 'duty', and he's slowly succumbing to her influence. More then worth the price of having to run a small business in a slum I'm sure.
That said I want a 50k word fic that is just Lanfear's Adventures in Small Business Ownership. We know those drinks where over priced, but where they watered down? Did she have to pay a mortgage? Deal with uppity suppliers? Was their a Darkfriend Company Discount as Selene's Totally Normal And Not At All Evil Bed and Breakfast?
I have two nitpicks that are so minor they barely warrant discussion, and one is not even the show's fault. The first is that everyone keeps saying things like 'your powers' rather then 'strength in the power'. Jordan goes to so much trouble to make the point that people and objects don't have the power, they use it and strong in the power, and then Sanderson changed it to 'my powers' and 'how powerful he is' and *gargles*. This is like the peaches all over again.
The second is that as much as they nail the arches scene/ceremony, I wish they had gone the final mile and said 'Be steadfast'. It wasn't necessary exactly, but it's exclusion made me whisper under my breath, like a rhyme I just HAD to finish.
(This is completely normal and sane person behavior, stop looking at me like that internet stranger).
I don't have to much to say about Mat's story line beyond being VERY interested in where they are going tying him and Min together. I still needs to get off the ground for me to have more Thoughts.
Adeleas being Cringefail re: Lan is so funny to me in ways I can't quite explain.
I reiterate the point that since Rand's can't be Warder trained, giving him an old veteran blade master who is suffering from PTSD/Dementia was a VERY smart move that fits the feel of the books.
RIP Joshua's soft boy curls. You where a casualty of this war.
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May I have hcs for Darry with a pro boxer s/o?
I love how creative a lot of the requests I've gotten are omgggg like this is such an interesting idea and fun concept! I'm afraid I don't know much about boxing so I'm really sorry if these aren't entirely accurate but I hope you enjoy!
Darry with a Pro Boxer S/O (Gender Neutral)
We know that Darry isn't a stranger to fighting and that he's actually pretty damn good at it. When he finds out the person he's dating can not only hold their own but is an actual pro boxer he's really impressed and blown away.
Thinks it's hot, not gonna lie. He thinks watching you box and kick ass is probably one of the hottest things he's ever seen and he just feels so proud when he watches you.
Asks for pointers and advice! If you're willing to teach him a few things, he wants to learn! Might ask you to show his brothers some better ways to defend themselves or land more solid hits that way they can be safer anytime they get jumped.
Supportive boyfriend(TM). Hypes you up big time, makes sure you're eating well and getting enough sleep. Tosses your clothes and gear into the load of laundry he was already going to do that day.
He might not be able to come to every match of yours because he's got to work and/or family obligations but he keeps track of your events on the calendar and makes sure to wish you good luck.
Enjoys how strong you are and really likes to hold your hands. Now in my opinion, Darry likes holding hands in general when it is just the two of you, BUT he's particularly enamored by the strength and power that your hands are capable of.
I know that pro Boxers have teams and stuff to help patch up injuries (right?) but he definitely takes time to try to look after you when you get home. He doesn't fuss over you and he knows that you can hold your own. That doesn't stop him from making sure you're taken care of, though.
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love your db analysis posts! i'd love to hear your thoughts on ultimate gohan, if you have any. between him having little to no reaction to finding out everyone on earth is dead, and randomly letting gotenks fight buu instead of himself, he did not seem to be the same character at all to me, and iirc even piccolo says so, i just... find it hard to believe a non-rage-triggered power-up would do that to him.
Much like Android 16, I do wonder if there were more plans for Ultimate Gohan that wound up being scrapped by the shift in narrative direction.
We're first introduced to the concept of Ultimate Gohan as the Elder Kaioshin is explaining his abilities.
Gohan's dormant power has long been a recurring attribute of his character. In fact, this isn't the first time he's had an elderly sage draw out his dormant power.
Teaching him to draw out and control his dormant abilities was (stealthily) part of Goku's training with him. That Gohan was finally starting to make it his own and tap into his true ki is the reason for why he was repeatedly unimpressed by Goku's abilities.
Gohan didn't even realize it, but through his mastery of the Super Saiyan, he'd also begun to take control of and internalize the tremendous ki he'd always had stored away in him. And as he came into his own ki, what he could sense of Goku's ki proportional to his own didn't make sense to him.
Super Saiyan 2 was, then, the culmination of Gohan's development. His full power, channeled through the Super Saiyan and its amplifying effects - both for better and, uh, for worse.
But it's been seven years and Gohan's been indulging in his true love of academia, in accordance with the agreement Goku and Chi-Chi made about his future.
Goku may have successfully escaped having to get a job by conveniently dying at the last possible second, but Gohan's future is set on a course. He's going to be an academic. It's what Chi-Chi wants for him, and it's what Gohan wants for himself; Even Goku acknowledges that.
Seven years of rigorous study and zero martial arts practice later, Gohan isn't the guy anymore. In fact, examining just how much Gohan isn't the guy anymore is the whole point of his fight with Dabra.
Goku eyeballs Dabra as being roughly around Cell's power. This allows Dabra to serve as a yardstick for Gohan, so we understand what it means for him when he fails to measure up.
Gohan that was a Zanzoken/Afterimage. Nobody even does those anymore. They became obsolete after ki-sensing was normalized, because everyone can now easily sense which "image" is the real one. The one other time we saw a Zanzoken return post-23rd Tenkaichi Budokai, it was against Frieza, who can't sense ki.
Dabra is mocking you right now. He legit thinks you're so shitty at martial arts that you'll fall for this amateur-hour guff. And he's right.
I kinda feel Geets here. If I had to watch my last chance to ever fight my rival get wasted on this, I'd be losing my mind too. He fucking fell for a Zanzoken; Can I just take over already?
So. Yeah. Full Power Gohan isn't a thing anymore. He can still tap into the form - and for some inexplicable reason so can Goku and Vegeta - but this is no longer Peak Potential. Which is where the Elder Kaioshin comes in.
This is a classic formula of Dragon Ball. We've seen it in the RRA, Piccolo, Saiyan, Namek (twice!), and Android arcs. First, Goku gets the shit kicked out of him - sometimes even to the point of being presumed dead.
While the surviving cast members scurry about trying to find a way to face the bad guy, Goku - sometimes unbeknownst to them, sometimes not - is recovering and preparing to come back stronger than ever. This typically takes the form of some sort of godly trial or ordeal guaranteed to make him stronger than ever.
Then, at the 11th hour when all else has failed and all hope is lost, Goku makes his return to have one last epic battle for the fate of the world/universe/cosmos.
This is the Dragon Ball formula. Has been since the day the Four-Star Dragon Ball saved Goku's life from a lethal Dodonpa. Of course, getting Gohan back up to speed isn't going to be enough, since Majin Buu in his weakest form was able to do this to our Cell-adjacent yardstick.
I wonder what Dabra Cookie tastes like? I imagine it's like the wafer part of a Keebler cookie. Sugary and nice on its own but better with fudge.
So. Yeah. If Gohan's going to throw hands with Buu, he's going to need more than the power he fought Cell with. Fortunately, that's the Elder's specialty, and what makes this different than that other time Gohan had his dormant power drawn out.
That's right, we're limit-breaking again. Not the limits of human ability, the limits of Saiyan ability, or even the limits of Super Saiyan ability; We're limit-breaking Gohan specifically. Elder Kaioshin's abilities can not only draw out Gohan's full dormant ability but push it beyond Gohan's natural limits.
Full Power Gohan? Nah. This is Limit-Breaker Gohan. Not his full potential; Beyond his potential. Something entirely different from the Super Saiyan, but similar enough that he doesn't require much alternative instruction.
Kinda feels like a thing that shouldn't be able to exist, to be honest. After all the time that's been put into things like the strain of the Kaio-ken on a body, the effects of Frieza having power beyond his limits, or even what trying to use Super Saiyan 3 in a mortal body does to Goku in this very arc.
The idea of Gohan channeling ki beyond his limits seems like it should have some drawbacks, doesn't it? We do get some hints that something's weird about Gohan's new power. Piccolo can't even recognize his ki signature in this state.
This form is doing some weird shit to his ki. And, as Piccolo notes, Gohan's harder now. Gohan is here to take care of business, and nothing is going to get in his way.
But. Then. The switch happens. Suddenly, Gohan is no longer the protagonist and we need a way for Majin Buu to suddenly be too much for Gohan to handle. So we go from this:
To this:
In the span of two chapters. All so that Buu can ass-pull a brand new ability that's never once been mentioned before even though Kaioshin will later cop to having seen him do it twice, that will instantly make Ultimate Gohan stop being a solution to this problem two chapters after his debut.
A plan that, in fact, he began putting into place one chapter after Ultimate Gohan's debut. Never in the history of Dragon Ball has a brand new form or ability been obsoleted this quickly.
And then Gohan was basically thrown in the dumpster and this was never spoken of again, with Ultimate Gohan just becoming his new Strongest Transformation in follow-up products. You can feel the climactic final act being aggressively aborted around him, in favor of Goku and Vegeta's third act.
Hell, at one point, Goku even suggests bringing in Gohan to fight Pure Buu. Y'know. Since Ultimate Gohan is the strongest in the universe and all that. But Vegeta nopes it.
No explanation offered. He's just like, "That's not the plot anymore; Try to keep up, Kakarot." To be fair, Goku had a chance to bring Gohan into this too. They're both aggressively elbowing Gohan out of the spotlight here.
Mad disrespect.
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-- study tips!
this'll be a bit of a longer post. during my time working at my learning center, we were taught to help students implement these strategies to have more effective study sessions. below the cut i explain all of them in a little bit more detail so hopefully you all will be able to try some of them out as the school year takes off!
music
how easy is it to remember the lyrics to a catchy song you hear all the time on the radio? even if it's not a song you particularly like, the chorus can wiggle its way into your memory. try transforming the concept you're learning into the lyrics to a song you already know.
visualization
everything happens twice: once in your mind and once in reality. try to visualize the concepts you're learning.
metaphor, analogy, simile
this method can be used to connect the unfamiliar with the familiar. (blank) is like (blank).
reciprocal teaching
this method is my favorite. grab a classmate, friend, family member (anyone that will listen really) and explain the concepts you're learning to them. encourage them to ask you questions to get yourself doing some critical thinking. we remember 90% of what we teach to someone else.
roleplay
motivate yourself to more actively participate in your learning. put yourself in the shoes of your professor and make practice tests, or in the mind of whoever discovered the concepts you're learning.
writing
we remember what we write much more than things that we simply read or even type. writing connects the brain and the body.
story telling
it is easy for the brain to remember stories with a beginning, middle, and end. this method works great for concepts that are processes. turn your concept into a little story.
mnemonic devices
mnemonic devices include acronyms and acrostics. these are great for remembering lists.
visuals
there's a reason textbooks these days have so many pictures! images help the brain remember and connect new information with something you may have seen before.
movement
motion connects the brain and the body. make easy to remember motions to go along with the concepts you're learning.
graphic organizers
graphic organizers are another one of my favorite study methods. mind mapping helps to better organize the concepts you're learning and makes it easier to connect key points.
drawing
drawing and making diagrams helps to further visualize and organize information.
games
games help lower stress and increase retention. things like kahoots, quizlet live, matching games (etc.) can help you enjoy studying a little more.
projects
project based learning is a very active learning strategy. think of things like science fair projects. when professors assign projects try your best to put your all into it.
field trips
field trips are another way to lower stress and increase retention. visiting museums dedicated to what you're learning is a great way to boost your interest and morale.
work study
getting more intimately involved in your field of study greatly increases your critical thinking skills surrounding it. for many fields this looks like getting involved in research, TA'ing, or becoming a tutor.
humor
what's more memorable than a good joke?
discussion
this method is a lot like reciprocal teaching. find a classmate, or someone else how has about the same level of understanding and talk about the concepts you're leaning.
manipulatives
there's a strong connection between what our hands hold and brains comprehend. manipulatives includes anything that can be touched and handled, like science models or interactive kits.
technology
using technology can look like a million different things, such as using apps to facilitate learning (like quizlet or duolingo).
i hope someone can find even one of these things useful as they continue with their academic journey. feel free to leave me any questions comments or concerns!
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What’s your opinion on radical feminists who become “blackpilled” so to speak? Who eventually loses a lot of their compassion and empathy for women who fail to help themselves? Who lose hope for a better future for women all over the world when majority of women will never be able to separate them far enough from men to make any real change forward.
I think it is perfectly natural and probably more frequent than some women will admit to lose faith and to become frustrated with the women who still prioritize their proximity to men over the progress of women as a class. I've certainly felt that way. Especially as a lesbian, the concept of prioritizing men feels completely foreign to me.
Change requires discomfort, stubbornness, and unity. And the world we face has made it much harder to be able to deal with discomfort. The short term advantages of conceding to the patriarchy has made stubbornness seem useless. And the unity of women is fractured into everyone's personal definitions of what feminism is.
And on paper, I can understand it. I only get one life and you want me to spend it being angry and fighting against this thing that's been around forever when I can just concede and live more comfortably? This is, of course, the Western thinking of feminism as there are plenty of countries where defiance and submission lead down the same path of control and abuse.
But I can't imagine giving up. I can't imagine turning inward on the women around me and calling them the real problem. I can't give my anger to women who have never known any other life than submitting to men. Who have been fed religions that teach them in their formative years that their existence, as a whole, is servitude. I can be frustrated, and yes, I can even be angry.
Compassion saves lives. It does bring change. The change we are looking for will not come in giant displays of revolution. It's little battles and persistent defiance on behalf of those women who can't. That's why fights to suppress women's rights are at an all time high. It's why men complain about not being able to find a good woman because so many "act like men." They're referring to unapologetic independence and utilizing our means of that to decide what we do with our lives.
And that's just the Western effect. What about in East Asia where the birth rates are lower? Where being a feminist is an insult and women, safely and proudly, call themselves feminists? The women in Latin America who march for abortion rights and for justice when femicides occur? The women in Africa forming spaces just for women to learn and live without the threat of child marriages and rape?
I think when you give up on women and feminism, you're giving up on those women too. How dare I, a woman in the West, proclaim that feminism is pointless and give up while women in countries that could feasibly kill them without repercussions continue to risk their lives just to say they deserve peace and rights.
I understand feeling hopeless, but you must hold onto compassion because it is what these women who cannot help themselves need. It is what they will look for when they realize the world we live in. They won't look for a fist to invite them, they'll want an open hand.
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Chapter 6: The Other
An ongoing ProHero Hitoshi x F!OC fanfic. This chapter contains risqué content, including some dom/sub themes.
"We both know if you really wanted this to end, if you didn't enjoy this, you'd just have to say so and I'd stop. You like this, kitten." Hitoshi placed his free hand on her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes had taken on a sharper, teasing edge. The smirk on his face exuded confidence as he held her wrists in an iron vice. "So if I wasn't fucking you, what was I doing that riled you up so much, huh?"
"What do cheats get?"
The binding around her wrists were pulled higher, straining her shoulders as she lifted her head to meet his eyes. Binding her wrists to her ponytail seemed cruel, leaving her with the choice between discomfort or eye contact. The struggle for power between them had boiled over into physical, and the man had come better prepared.
"Fuck you." Takara didn't have more to give her rebuke. Her wit had been quickly dismissed when Hitoshi had lifted her onto her desk, her arms already bound behind her. Her ability to thrash was limited by her bindings and how she'd been placed on the surface that sat cold beneath her. "That's not the right answer, cheat." The bastard smirked at her resolve, her continued ability to defy his question despite her predicament.
"If you'd just answer, I'd give you what you want." Hitoshi's voice filled with disappointment, as though he was not hoping to punish her. He placed a swift, decisive smack to her cunt. The contact was electric - damn her body for reacting this way - causing her to jump, grinding against the mans hand. He'd left it there to taunt her with an awareness of friction while keeping it just out of reach. She'd have to work for it if she wanted it. He stood between her legs, one arm holding her shoulder up so she couldn't lay back, but leaning down enough that she'd have to struggle to meet his gaze. A torturous precipice.
"You don't care what I want, Hitoshi." Takara response ripped from her throat like a growl, allowing her eyes to meet the ceiling. The move provided a brief reprieve for her shoulders as her wrists fell down her back, the bindings loose enough to allow some circulation to return. "I don't think you even care what you want." Takara's breathing had started to level out, the struggle between the pair lapsing for long enough for a brief respite.
"An overlay on a picture you cannot perceive, yet accept as reality." Takara looked around the space, rapidly becoming aware at the surreal aspects of her surroundings. Her shoulders relaxed, her wrists suddenly free from their bindings. Takara took a moment to count her fingers. Eight? Eleven? The number was wrong, the concept of numbers becoming increasingly difficult to understand.
"I'm dreaming." Hitoshi's eyes met hers, but they were not his. In his sockets sat Takara's own orbs, the warm brown tones flecked with streaks of red and gold. The lighting in the white space highlighted them as Takara gazed upon the strange visage, the chimera emitting a radiant warmth with it's presence. Like home and hope, a snowy morning and a cup of tea. "I'm trapped here again, aren't I?"
"Control is a concept you've never mastered." Takara sighed. This place always made her feel stupid and small, like she could never hope to learn what it was trying to teach her. The other sat, patient and happy in Takara's presence.
"My grandmother tells me her inner voice is like a shadow." Lucid dreaming had started happening to Takara as a child. It was not something she'd practiced - it had simply happened, and she'd told her parents about the white space casually over bowl of cereal the next day.
Luckily her parents did not find it strange - her father had been raised by Kiyoko, after all - and simply told her she was talking to herself while she slept, that the voice was a friend because it was also herself. Like a mirror. Kiyoko had agreed, and only shared her own experiences when Takara was a teenager. "That the shadow chases her and she has to flee, hide, outrun and escape. You may lock me here-"
"I do nothing, your dreams collapse around you because you do not believe in them."
"-but I've never found you scary, and you've never been mean to me." Takara continued on, knowing that trying to parse the others meaning in the moment would be an exercise in futility. "I don't always like what you have to say, and you're not always right. But you're always kind. Why?"
"Why would I not be kind to you?" The other turned to her, the lighting accentuating the golden hues of it's hair. Hair Takara would have died for - she'd always found her hair one dimensional, red, like brick that had been painted over. So much potential but it just didn't work. "You are the only thing I've ever known that isn't me." Takara furrowed her brow at the comment before she was ripped away from the other, the sudden pull violent as the white space rapidly retreated.
An incessant tapping pulled Takara back into consciousness. The area between her legs was wet, warm, her nerves still alight from her dream as she tried to get her bearings straight.
Something had shifted within her. Takara was no stranger to self pleasure - she had toys and talented fingers - but she'd been unable to get herself off for a few days. At first it had seemed like a challenge - like her body was edging her, bringing her right to the brink before stopping short of the big finale. The second day had been less of a challenge and more of a plea - her favorite toys, her favorite candles and music and smells had all been used - and still her body refused to cooperate.
Now, day three, she'd been furious. How dare her body do this to her - yes, she was stressed, but shouldn't that entitle her to a quick hit of dopamine to help quell that feeling? She'd come so close in her dream - so close to sweet relief - but it had been snatched by none other than herself. Takara rolled to the window angrily, finding Hitoshi perched there, finger ready to tap again.
Takara stormed over, flicking the latch open with a violent movement. "What?" She bark whispered at him, concerned about her grandmother stirring. Hitoshi was silent for a moment as he took her in - the hair that had been pulled into a loose bun, the panties and oversized t-shirt she wore. The absolute disregard for her semi-nude state. He hadn't seen her since he'd made three runs at getting her number and failing each one. The castor bean case had gone cold, but the poisonings had also stopped. Hitoshi wasn't giving up yet but the urgency had abated.
"I heard a lot of movement." Takara had been tossing and turning, the comforter of her bed now a tangled pile on her mattress as she looked at it over her shoulder. "I was having a dream." She responded shortly, surveying him with a critical eye.
"A bad one?" Takara blushed at the question, her anger mixing with her fiery needs as looked to the left of the mans head - anywhere but his eyes, lest it bring her back to her dreaming moments. Anywhere but his neck where that capture weapon sat that could so easily bind her. "Takara?" Hitoshi pressed, concern painting his voice as he moved forward to step into her room.
"No, I just- No. It wasn't bad. It was just a stupid, stupid dream." Hitoshi nodded a few times before quietly shutting the window behind him. Takara continued to stew in front of him, her odd mood not changing. "I need help." She finally blurted with a sigh, crossing her arms and still not meeting his gaze. Hitoshi didn't respond, waiting for her to continue as he leaned against the windowsill. "I can't cum."
"....Could you ever?" Takara's eyes snapped to meet his, fury in her eyes at the question. "Yes, Hitoshi, I've had plenty of orgasms before. Most of them self-given. And now my body has decided I don't get to anymore." The whisper was angry, the blush not leaving her face as she explained her predicament. "It's been three days and I've tried-"
"Three days?" Hitoshi raised an eyebrow at the number. "How many times can you fail to masturbate in three days?" Takara opened her mouth to respond before pausing. How many times had she tried? The count became difficult to discern - when did one attempt end and another begin? The lack of orgasms took away the normal end and start marks.
"Let's ballpark at ten?"
"TEN?" The number sounded outlandish to Hitoshi as Takara slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling the outburst. The pair paused for a second, both listening for Kiyoko's snoring. It continued as it had been in the background as Takara uncovered his mouth.
"I just- I really need to get off." Takara sighed, an edge of desperation in her voice as she moved back to the bed. "I don't know if that's on the table for whatever this..."
"I'll get you off it you tell me about your dream." Takara threw her hands up in frustration, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of that knowledge. "Why do you care so much about my damn dream?" Hitoshi smirked at her, lightly pushing her to lay on the bed as he continued to stand over her. He'd deposited the voice modulator with the capture weapon and was in the process of stripping off his sweater. "You mumbled my name, and you're avoiding answering. You have something to hide."
"What, do you have enhanced hearing too?" Takara wanted the question to come out angrily, but the sight of him casually stripping overtop of her took the edge out of her voice. The dim lighting highlighted every muscle the man processed - the broad shoulders, the toned abdominals - and Takara found herself entranced by the trail of purple hair that pulled her eyes lower to where his pants dangled precariously close to falling off.
"You're the one answering questions, not me." Hitoshi undid the zipper to his pants but didn't remove them, standing above her with a smirk as he looked her over. She was a flustered mess, her brain rebelling against the wants of her body. "Your panties are soaked, Takara." Hitoshi slowly slid his hands up her calves, his fingertips digging into the flesh lightly. That blush had returned to her face, her breathing becoming more rapid as his hands roamed ever higher. "Were you having a dirty dream about me?"
Takara refused to answer, throwing her head back against the mattress in frustration. To avoid looking into his teasing, probing amythyst eyes. Hitoshi already knew the answer but wanted to hear her confirmation. Wanted her to admit that she'd been dreaming of him. That in her search for an orgasm Takara's brain had conjured him, and he must have gotten close to fulfilling her needs based in her flustered state.
"Yes." Takara's voice was defeated, the confirmation coming out as a pant. His fingertips dug into her thighs, the flesh soft against his calloused hands as he pushed them back towards her chest. Takara squirmed beneath him seeking friction which Hitoshi denied her.
"And what was I doing in this dream, Takara? Was I fucking you?" Hitoshi relished in the answer, in the power he held over her in this moment. He wanted to push her into a mating press, to stuff her so full that she couldn't help but cum, to feel her milk an orgasm from him with her quivering walls.
But first, he wanted details.
"I- you-" Takara's chest rose and fell rapidly as she met his eyes. She moved to sit up but Hitoshi was faster, grabbing both her wrists in one of his hands and pining then above her head. He'd let go of her thighs which stayed beside him on the bed, his body preventing her from closing them. The move had brought their faces closer together allowing Hitoshi a better view of her frustration. Her eyes were filled with rage and want as her hips bucked under him in an attempt to throw him off her. "You weren't fucking me, Hitoshi." Takara growled out, a snarl on her face as she spat the words at him. As though it was an insult. Her absolute anger, her fury at being seen by him, aroused something in Hitoshi.
He was going to drag this out. "We both know if you really wanted this to end, if you didn't enjoy this, you'd just have to say so and I'd stop. You like this, kitten." Hitoshi placed his free hand on her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes had taken on a sharper, teasing edge. The smirk on his face exuded confidence as he held her wrists in an iron vice. "So if I wasn't fucking you, what was I doing that riled you up so much, huh?" Hitoshi let go of her jaw, running his free hand up the side of her torso. "I think you can tell I like this too." Hitoshi ground his pelvis into hers, causing a sharp intake of breath from the woman beneath him as his erection brushed her soaked panties. "So why don't you give me the details so I can bring those dirty dreams to life?"
Takara's chest rose and fell frantically as she considered his offer. She tried to move her pelvis, aching for just a brief moment of friction against her core, but Hitoshi's other hand found her hip. He pinned it down with a firm push, not appreciating her trying to circumvent the game they found themselves in. "Cheat." Takara's eyes snapped to his as the word left his mouth, filled with recognition, and Hitoshi's grin widened. "Oh, did I call you a cheat in your dream too?" His hand let go of her hip and quickly found it's way to her nipple. "Did you like having me call you names?"
"Y-yes." Takara's whisper was almost inaudible, as though the confession took effort to express. "You called me a cheat. For the game. When I dealt, and you lost."
"And you liked it?" Takara didn't respond, biting her lip to prevent herself from speaking. Hitoshi continued with his questioning, not needing her to confirm it. The growing heat between her thighs was confirmation enough. "Did I spank your ass in this dirty fantasy of yours?" Her thighs trembled around his hips. Takara tried to free her arms, to hide any part of herself - she felt so exposed under his gaze, but his grip around her wrists didn't falter.
"No, you didn't spank my ass." Hitoshi didn't miss the dismissal. Odd to call out the body part in her denial. "Did you like when I smacked your cunt for being a brat?"
Takara seethed, but her anger was quickly tempered when Hitoshi gave her nipple a quick pinch, feeling the bar of her piercing beneath the surface of his fingers. An unexpected surprise. Her back arched against the bed at the movement, the assault on her aching nipples causing another wave of pleasure to overtake her body. Takara bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out, tears forming in her eyes from the edging and teasing the man above her was inflicting on her.
"Answer the question and I'll make you cum, Takara." Hitoshi didn't need to fuck her - his ego was thoroughly stroked by peeking into the woman's desires for him. He would glady make her cum if she would give in, if she could acknowledge that he aroused her in such perverse ways.
Takara's response came out as a drawn out whine, her body settling beneath him in surrender. "You tied my hair to my wrists. You put me on my desk and teased me, you kept asking me what cheats get. Kept calling me a cheat. You got me so close 'toshi. So close. Please. Please." Her panting had slowed, her eyes meeting his as she finished her confession. Hitoshi didn't miss the final move she tried, the desperation in her voice almost allowing him to overlook it. Almost.
"You didn't answer the question." He leaned in closer to her, his erection pressing against her as he did so. "Last chance before I leave out that window."
Takara's eyes darted between the window and him trying to determine if it was a bluff. "Wait, wait wait wait." Takara closed her eyes, collecting the shattered pieces of her mind as she let go of her resolve. "I liked it. I liked when you punished me. I liked when you lifted me up and pulled my hair, when you used your weapon on me." Takara was laying it out, not wanting to risk the man making true on this threat to leave her in this state. "I liked when you smacked my clit in my dream. Please, please-" Takara bucked against him and Hitoshi allowed the movement, allowed her to feel the friction between her legs she so desperately craved "please make me cum."
Hitoshi didn't let go of her wrists, dropping her nipple to bring his hand to the overstimulated nerve bundle between her legs. He rubbed frantic circles on it and Takara moaned, her muscles loosening with the wave of pleasure his ministrations brought on. He wasted no time and slipped two fingers inside her - all his teasing had left her a dripping mess, her body giving no resistance as he set a relentless pace with his hand. His thumb continued the circular movements as his fingers found that spongy spot inside her he'd been looking for. Takara threw her head back as Hitoshi released her hands, clamping his hand over her mouth instead to keep her from crying out.
"Cum for me, you filthy cheat." Takara felt a white hot jolt of electricity coarse through her body at the words, her hips bucking against his hand without her direction as she came. His hand muffled the noises she was making, the sweet release after three days of relentless effort rewarding Takara with euphoria. Every one of her nerves was on fire as he slowed his movements, the circles around her clit becoming slower, the movements of his fingers less harsh. Her skin felt sticky in the warm air of the room, slick with sweat. Hitoshi slowly removed his hand from her mouth before leaning back, giving Takara a glorious view of his body. His body was also lightly slicked with sweat from the effort of restraining her and coaxing an orgasm from her.
"Thank you." Takara mumbled, her breathing slowly returning to normal. Her body felt heavy against the bed, exhaustion hitting her without mercy. The outline of Hitoshi shook it's head. "You can go." Takara whispered, knowing the man had his duties.
"No, you might drop." Hitoshi placed a hand against her forehead, an oddly caring move when he'd been ruthless with her just moments ago. "How do you feel?"
"Cold." The formerly warm air of the room now felt cold. She attributed it to the sweat, but Hitoshi had a different idea of why it'd come on. Takara felt anxiety creep into her peripherals but pointedly ignored it.
"Come here." Hitoshi stripped down to his boxers, going to slip under the covers with her. Takara looked at him with distrust, as though he was about to toy with her again. Hitoshi paused his movement at the sight. "Takara-" Tears filled her eyes as she looked at him, her body rigid. He'd stripped her bare, pulled dirty thoughts and feelings she'd rarely shared with others from her with a frightening ease. He obviously found her disgusting, perverse, weird-
Hitoshi wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his shoulder as her tears began to fall. He pulled her into his lap, his hands moving up and down her back in long, slow strokes. "Subdrop is a real thing, Takara. It's okay." Takara didn't appreciate being called a sub. She wasn't submissive. This whole thing had been a mistake. "You did nothing wrong. Nothing is wrong with you." A few moments passed in silence as Takara's breathing became more level, more normal. Hitoshi felt her relax into him as she fell into sleep, waiting a few more moments before lowering her onto the bed and putting the blanket overtop of her.
He couldn't leave her. He couldn't.
A quick text to Denki letting him know he'd be late and a quick glance at her door to ensure it was locked, and Hitoshi crawled under the blanket with her. Takara didn't stir or move with the shifting weight on her bed.
Hitoshi lay next to her, unable to sleep, and unwilling to leave. He let himself drift between consciousness and sleep until eventually, sleep won.
Comments are always welcome! This whole chapter was fueled by a stormy Sunday and reading a smutty book. Let me know if you liked it! One like from the other came straight from the game Slay the Princess. I highly recommend it.
Link to chapter index.
Link to chapter seven.
#mha x reader#mha hitoshi#mha smut#hitoshi shinso x reader#hitoshi x reader#hitoshi shinsou#shinso hitoshi#mha shinsou#shinsou x reader#shinsou smut
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day 1, dio brando: petplay
kinktobruary day 1
dio brando x reader // jojo's bizarre adventure
summary: pets know better than to keep their master waiting, right? dio has little patience for your other obligations. when he fails to grab your attention, he has other means for persuading you. modern, non-stand AU
tw/cw: 18+ only, smut, petplay, semi-public in a sense (someone hears you two via zoom), rough s*x, degradation, humiliation, dio in this au still has a god complex, dio being a drama queen who has no concept of boundaries, dio being jealous of your homework
word count: 2.5K
—
You liken Dio to a cat.
Not a cute, domestic cat, someone you could leave to his own devices, but a lion. Raw, barely curbed vigor, an intimidating air; he’s someone that can command a room. And just like a feline, he can be downright obstinate when it comes to getting you to play along with one of his whims.
The heat of his ochre gaze typically has you relenting to his desires, but today you are determined. The assignment you’re working on is due at midnight, and it’s your utmost priority to get it done, considering the substantial portion it makes up of your grade. Your keyboard keys continue clacking, even as you can feel his eyes boring into you.
“Dear,” he starts, the rich, sultry timbre voice of his voice one that you know all too well.
You shush him sharply.
You don’t have to look up to see the displeasure curling his lips. “I did not even get to finish—”
“Mm, I know what you’re going to say.”
“Oh?” Dio is nothing if not interested in a worthy challenge, when he finds one. “And that is?”
“Entertain me, I’m bored. Something to that effect?” At his annoyed silence, you continue. “Sorry, but I really need to get this done—”
“School. Assignments. Deadlines. Do they really matter in the grand scheme of things?” Distaste sharpens his words to fine edges, edges which you easily duck and avoid as you continue typing.
“They do if I want to pass.”
Dio refuses to relent, a sign, perhaps, of his own relentless contempt for boredom, as he unfurls from his position to stride towards you. He leans down, hovering just inches over you as he observes you work.
“You would not even need to finish this tedious course if you had just accepted my offer.”
“To work at your law firm? Thanks, but I’ll pass.” You can feel the irritation leeching off of him, the hairs on your arms standing on end, so you finally acknowledge him. Dio, even though he keeps you closest to your heart, still refuses to lower himself to you, and as he stands above you, he observes you like a game of chess. Another piece he needs to crack, another victory to earn.
You don’t doubt your lover’s keen intellect, but you don’t take lightly rumors you hear of the corruption at his law firm lightly. What he does in his career is little of your business, especially not when it provided the two of you with a lovely penthouse suite in the nicer part of London, but what is your business was the autonomy you had.
You can’t imagine what being domineered by Dio both at home and work. You quite enjoy the freedom your academics grants you from his wide influence. Well, besides the assignments. You could do without those.
“Sorry,” you say, gentler now, hoping to rectify the damage you’ve done to his ego. “We can do something later, okay?”
Perhaps you underestimate Dio’s hatred for coming second place to anyone or anything.
—
Dio, from his perspective, finds this predicament quite vexing. While he admits on some occasions he finds your dedication to your studies is admirable, as he finds all things in life that people mercilessly chase after and obtain, it does get boringly predictable. The way you lock yourself off to all external stimuli to get something done. A quality he often admires in you, but at the current moment, gives him much frustration.
What can a measly course teach you that Dio can’t? He graduated law school with flying colors, started his own law firm, and was an absolute, smashing success. So, why do you insist on subordinating the knowledge and experience he could offer you, to something as trivial as school? Your dismissal of him has his blood simmering.
Yet, his annoyance manifests itself into scheming, as it often does. Possibilities flash through his mind, ways that he can morph the sight of your frustrated brow and keen concentration into adoration, into you mewling, begging for him, his name a hymn on your tongue. You always do call out his name oh-so-alluringly. As his thoughts delve into more carnal fantasies, yearning stokes the fires in him.
You always do look absolutely divine with your face flushed, your skin dewy with sweat and other fluids. Dio is positive he can paint that picture once again.
You’ll learn to regret rejecting his advances. Because it’s time for him to discipline you, to show you what happens when his pet spurns his interest.
—
You’re tidying up your workspace, in preparation of the zoom meeting with your study group. The three of you are supposed to go over your essays, give each other last-minute feedback, perhaps gripe about your professor’s ridiculous standards.
As you connect to the call, you notice Dio enter the room again. He seats two spaces away from you, before procuring a book for leisurely reading. At your greeting, he doesn’t even so much as glance at you, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. Oh, so he isn’t done being upset about earlier.
You redirect your attention to zoom, eyes lighting up when the faces of your classmates pop up on screen. As the three of you began chatting, exchanging pleasantries, you catch Dio placing his book down in your periphery. You glance over at him, but you’re not able to spot the deviousexpression play across his features with him facing away from you.
Little do you know, the perfect opportunity presents itself to him, and who is he to not take it.
Just as you start skimming your peer’s paper, you hear the thump of Dio’s book falling to the floor.
“How clumsy of me.”
Perhaps if you were paying more attention, you’d hear the intention lacing the sarcasm in his ton, a slight change to his usual, condescending manner. As it is, you’re distracted by a comment your peer makes. But just as your eyes trail across the words on your screen again, you feel something brush your leg.
Then two hands, large and firm, grasp you by the ankles and yank your legs apart. It’s a good thing you’re on mute, or else your classmates would have heard your shriek.
You glance down to see Dio under the table, his golden gaze challenging you. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t seem to find where I dropped my novel. Pity,” he says, not sounding at all bothered. “I suppose I’ll have to entertain myself in this measly way.”
The thin shorts you wear prove to be impervious to his efforts as his fingers trail up your thigh. You send him a warning look, your attention dipping between him and the zoom call. While at first, his hands are mere caresses, his actions soon escalated, much like a buildup to the main act. When his fingers reach your panties, and he begins halfheartedly stroking through the give in them, you fidget at the sensation of liquid warmth pooling between your thighs.
“Dio,” you hiss. “This is really not the time—”
“Pet,” he says, deceptively calm. “Is that any way to speak to your master?”
His words, honeyed and cloying, seem to drip from his mouth, and straight between your thighs. Your mouth shuts as you attempt to shut your thighs, but he merely nudges them apart again, the stroking of his fingers unimpeded. You glance at your classmates on screen, noticing that they seemed to be engrossed in reading, before focusing back on him.
“Make it discreet.”
“Oh? I was not aware that you were the kind to give me orders, pet. I’ll do as I please.”
He tugs at the hem of your shorts, and this time you comply, lifting your hips so that the material falls to your feet. Then Dio’s stroking evenly along your panties, his movements uninhibited, and your thighs begin quaking. When he prods you under the material, his thick digits burrowing into you, you let out a shaky breath that you disguise as a cough.
The words on the page before you start to blur, and your attention and bodily awareness converge to the single, burning heat building in your gut. Gosh, you were so close… your eyes clench shut, your teeth worrying your bottom lip. Your breath stutters when—
Nothing. A gust of air fans your exposed parts.
Your eyes snap open. “Dio—”
He’s already standing, brushing himself off. He aims a disgruntled look at the wrinkles on his slacks from kneeling down for so long, attempting to straighten them out.
You call his name out again, and this time he snaps.
“I suggest you turn that camera of yours off if you value your modesty, pet. I don’t,” he says frankly, a cruel smirk curling his lips. “However, you have your own meager reputation you want to preserve.”
You turn off your camera not a moment too soon, as Dio shoves his fingers that were just inside you in your mouth. You choke at the abruptness, your tongue sloppily cleaning his fingers of the mess you’ve made. As he yanks them out, he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, his tongue forcing you into obedience. You comply, his mouth muffling your moan as your hands curling into the fabric of his shirt. He slaps them away.
“Did I say you could touch me, pet? Look at how you’ve mussed up my shirt.” He chuckles. “First you make me lower myself to you, and now this? Oh, I’ve quite the low tolerance for your behavior today, pet.”
He jerks you up from your seat by your arm, maneuvering you so that your hands are braced along the table, your ass bent towards him. You shiver at the sound of him undoing his belt buckle and of clothes falling to the floor. His hefty length rests against your cheeks, the heat of it causing heat to creep up your own cheeks as you’re face-to-face with your zoom session, your classmates unaware of what’s going on behind your camera.
He doesn’t even bother taking off your panties, simply yanking them to the side before breaching you. As Dio’s girth stretches you wide in one thrust, you bite back your moan. The sensation of fullness is accompanied by the slightest sting of pain, as Dio didn’t prepare you nearly enough for his penetration, but that doesn’t stop him. He slides out before spearing into you again, his hips rocking hard enough that the table trembles.
He chuckles. “Look at you.” He admires your reflections in the black screen, the barely discernible outline of his figure jostling into yours. “Imagine, if your hand slipped… if you let those foolishly naive peers of yours catch sight of you at this moment.... What would they say? What would they think of you, pet? I can only imagine the humiliation you’d experience at being caught as mine to use and wreck.”
You whine, your eyes slipping shut as you arch your back towards him. Dio’s hand comes to press lightly against your throat, squeezing once for good measure. His hips continue to pummel into you harshly, your hips digging uncomfortably into the table’s edges. Your hands dart towards your front, attempting to accelerate towards a quick end, but he catches it.
“You will cum from my touch and my touch alone, pet,” he sneers.
You whimper again, and Dio smirks. He drags your hips back and spreads your legs wider, so that when he thrusts into you, it’s as if you can feel him prodding the very edge of your gut. You choke out a moan of his name, bracing your elbows on the table. The table creaks louder with his every thrust, and the errant slap of his balls against your skin…. God, you need to double-check to make sure you’re on mute.
“Pet, I believe they’re speaking to you.” Dio snickers.
Your eyes snap open, and of course, your classmates are looking in your direction expectantly. You flush; even though your camera is off, it feels like they know what you’re up to, that they can see the depraved things you and Dio are doing. And with the way he’s fucking you, leaving you little room to gather your bearings, much less breathe… you don’t think you can find it in you to continue the session. Your hand hovers over the button to exit the call, but Dio jerks into you again and your fingers miss the button.
“Answer them, pet,” he says suddenly. “I command you to.”
You shoot him a withering look that wilts at the way his hips smack into you, breaking your concentration. You bite down on your lip, turning on your mic.
“S-Sorry guys.” Even you can hear your voice was strained, tight. “C-Camera’s not working. Must be the internet,” you say quickly, before muting again. You hope to God that the audio didn’t pick up on the wet slap of his hips against yours, or the creaking of the table. Dio, on his end, is clearly biting back his own devilish laughter.
As they continue talking, each torturous minute you attempt to stay focused weakens your resolve, and you unmute yourself again. “A-actually I’m really sorry…. I think I need to g-gooo—I’ll send you feedback later, I promise.”
You freeze as Dio lets out a positively sinful groan, loud enough for them to hear, accompanied by a moan of your name. “(Y/N), you feel exquisite—”
“B-Bye!” You exit the call, your face burning. Dio chortles as you reach around to smack his chest. “Dio, you—you dick!”
“Perhaps they’ll think I have the flu, pet. People come up with the most irrational excuses for things they don’t want to believe.”
“You’re so fucking—incorrigible—”
“Mm, you don’t seem to mind.”
“Just make me cum already,” you snap.
“I was not aware I was taking requests,” he remarks just as icily.
Still, it seems he’s reaching his limit as well, aided no doubt by the way you’d tightened around him in surprise at his earlier trick. He pins you to the table, his hips practically pummeling into you. You moan, at each slam of your hips against the table, already picturing the bruises that would no doubt form tomorrow. As Dio’s hips piston into you, you clench around him, feeling heat surge through your gut. You lower your face, his name a gasp on your lips as you ride out your orgasm. Shortly after, Dio is pulling out of you, hissing as his own release splatters onto the table.
You’re panting, already feeling the phantoms aches in your body from holding onto that position. As you flex the stiff muscles in your wrists, your eyes land on your notes and outline for your paper, the ink smudged in several places from droplets of Dio’s release. Your jaw drops.
“Dio!” You smack his shoulder, pointing to your ruined study materials. He merely smirks, tucking himself back into his pants.
“Gross! How am I supposed to read this now?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea. Perhaps you could clean them with your tongue,” he suggests.
He definitely aims with intention.
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A concept: teaching Will Shakespeare the joys of cooking :)
Spending an afternoon in the kitchen with him, just making a small meal. Maybe it's fancy, maybe it isn't. But you're making it together, and that's what's the interesting part.
SUMMARY: you teach will how to find his way around the one room in his villa he never uses: the kitchen.
WARNINGS: none!! :D
COMMENTS: REMEMBERING FROM CANON THAT HE DOESNT HAVE ANYTHING IN HIS HOUSE TO EVEN COOK WITH...we are just going to assume that he and mc when kitchenware shopping when they moved in <3
um just pretend this is modern au i wanted to use the "my lvoe how do i preheat the oven" as a reference slash prompt because sillies JHAGSDJHAS
“my love, how do you preheat the oven?”
you find yourself holding back laughter for the nth time that afternoon as you make your way over to your lover, who is currently staring down the oven with a pink flush on his cheeks.
it's cute how he’s so used to fine dining that he doesn’t know how to preheat an oven or how to eat sandwiches. Although he’s been getting better at the latter, the former could still use work.
“like this, darling. just turn this dial to your desired temperature.” you explain, reaching over the stove to turn the dial for him, “i want you to remember that for next time, okay?”
will blushes and averts his eyes at your subtle teasing. you know he’ll do his best to remember, lest he be embarrassed again.
“i do hope...you’ll continue being this patient with me, my sweet muse.” will purses his lips, almost like he’s pouting but you can’t bring yourself to be focused on that right now after he called you his sweet muse.
he knows your weaknesses too well. perhaps you should exploit this.
and so you kiss him, pressing your hand over his heartbeat as the other captures his hand.
you capture his heart with it.
will is still melting into your kiss even as you pull away, and it sends your heart racing.
“of course, i will. what reason would i have for being impatient with you?” you beam, giving his hand a squeeze before pulling away from him completely, “i have fun with you no matter what...but we really do have to get dinner made.”
#henry <3#auburn's fics <3#auburn's rambles <3#ikevamp shakespeare#ikevamp#ikemen vampire#ikevamp shakespeare x reader#ikevamp shakespeare fluff
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[Hag’s Note: I found the focus on suburbia of particular interest in this piece. These were the trad wives of 1972, and here’s what they had to say about it.]
Suburban women, in common with all women, have lived in intimacy with and dependence on our oppressor. In isolation and tightly bound to our families, we have viewed the world and our condition from the level of patriarchal ideas of money and power. We now recognize that these patriarchal concepts have and still do dominate and control our lives, but our thinking, hopes and aspirations are changing. We are analyzing our past, present and future according to new feminist concepts and are beginning to discover that there can be new ways of dealing with our problems and our lives.
As suburban women, we recognize that many of us live in more economic and material comfort than our urban sisters, but we have come to realize through the woman's movement, feminist ideas and consciousness raising, that this comfort only hides our essential powerlessness and oppression. We live in comfort only to the extent that our homes, clothing and the services we receive feed and prop the status and egos of the men who support us. Like dogs on a leash, our own status and power will reach as far as our husbands and their income and prestige will allow. As human beings, as individuals, we, in fact, own very little and should our husbands leave us or us them, we will find ourselves with the care and responsibility of children and without money, jobs, credit or power. For this questionable condition, we have paid the price of isolation and exploitation by the institutions of marriage, motherhood, psychiatry and consumerism. Although our life styles may appear materially better, we are, as all women, dominated by men at home, in bed and on the job; emotionally, sexually, domestically and financially.
Traditionally, as women and suburban women, we have put the cause of others before our own and are now determined to uphold our rights as top priority. Because we are convinced that all oppression stems from the fundamental oppression of women by men, it will follow that men will benefit from our liberation even though they may fight, resist and not welcome the change. We want to be identified as female liberationists and not as human liberators. Those men who agree with our cause will find a way to support us and we will welcome them, but it is not our job to convince, care for or teach men what we know to be right.
Although we are, as women, united on the basis of our common feelings and experiences, we are also individuals with varied ideas, preferences and goals. These differences are not antagonistic but are an indication of the richness and variety of our ideas and contributions. We, therefore, hope to remain loosely organized to allow individual expression and freedom to work and struggle through thoughts, feelings and ideas. Total agreement is not our goal but self realization, self initiative, mutual respect and a large variety of alternatives and choices are essentially what we hope to achieve.
We believe that:
1. The notion of fixed sex roles is arbitrary and unjust.
2. That suburbia is a wasteland; a human ghetto for women minimizing their opportunity for growth.
3. That diverse forms of sexual relationships based on mutual consent are a matter of individual choice and right.
4. The institution of marriage presumes and establishes the lifelong servitude of women.
5. All economic institutions subject and deprive the suburban women, as well as all women, of economic power; even her power as a consumer is a myth since she spends and buys no more than her husband will allow.
6. Women are no more inherently suited to child rearing than men and men must be held responsible also for the emotional, educational and physical development of children.
7. The mutual dependence of mothers and children is in essence an act of tyranny which serves to thwart, retard and immobilize both mother and children.
8. The adjustment theories adhered to by most psychologists and psychiatrists and their institutions perpetuate destructive attitudes towards women, undermine their self value and self esteem and are generally harmful to the wholesome development and welfare of women.
9. The fact that we live with and even support some of these institutions which are sexist does not in any way alter our basic beliefs. We presently live the way we do because there are no good alternatives.
10. Women's liberation is not human liberation and we place the cause of women above all other causes.
11. We are committed to the understanding of our condition as women so that we may create and invent new ways to live and to find both collective and individual realization and strength.
- A group of 15 Westchester women. May, 1972
-Westchester Radical Feminists, ‘Statement of Purpose’ in Radical Feminism, Koedt et al (eds.)
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