#but the power imbalance + the lovely ''if you were a teacher I would fail your class take it over and over till you noticed me'' line | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

megamindsecretlair · 8 months ago

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Runaway Lover, Part 2

Pairing: Professor!Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. ANGST. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing/mocking, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, possession kink, all consensual. Power imbalance.

Summary: After learning that Stunna is your teacher, you must drop the class. When you're unable to, you try to break things off with Stunna. Only it doesn't go so well.

Word Count: 6,067k

Part 1 | Part 3

A/N: Everybody say thank you @melaninpov. The responses to this fic was overwhelming! I love ya'll so much! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @thedonsfactory @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nworbaij @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @blackpinup22 @cardi-bre91 @blowmymbackout @jay-mach @sageispunk @yourofficialgal

You wanted to throw up. You wanted to disappear. You wanted to jump out of your skin and never look back.

To his credit, Stunna - you refused to call him by his real name - continued on with his spiel, effectively ignoring you. The only thing you could think of was how good he felt. How good he smelled. Those sweet and filthy words he whispered in your ear while he was playing with your pussy. While he owned you. While he seemed to reach inside you and yank out your soul. He stole the damn thing back in Punta Cana and now here he was. In your city. In your school.

Your anxiety twisted your gut into painful knots that no amount of breathing exercises could fix. You felt as if you had a scarlet letter on your chest. Could anyone tell? Would anyone know?

You tried to cast your eyes around the room, but there were only the bored looks on everyone’s faces. There were some people checking him out. You didn’t blame them. The man was gorgeous. And the chocolate outfit was so sexy against his dark skin. You wished he was wearing his grills as well. That would ruin you.

You slumped in your seat and looked everywhere but at him. You needed to drop this class. You needed to escape. There was no way that you could spend the next four months staring at that piece of art and not fail the class. Or want to leap over everyone and jump his bones.

You knew what those hands could do. You knew what filthy images he could conjure with his mouth. His deep voice was sinful and you spent a glorious Saturday getting to listen to him speak, laugh, or tell jokes.

You couldn’t do this. But fear kept you glued to your seat. You could not get up in front of everyone and walk out where everyone could see. And what would Stunna do? Ignore you? Chastise you? Tell you sit your ass back down?

There was only so much he could do without turning awareness to the fact that you knew each other already. The last thing you could afford was a scandal. You’d end up in a newspaper somewhere. Or worse. On the news. You pictured them finding an embarrassing photo of you from the gram and blasting it nationwide.

The headlines would write themselves. No. You did not need that type of negativity and you were not prepared to do that to Stunna either. So you endured. You waited. You avoided looking at him but you couldn’t close your ears.

You focused on breathing. You daydreamed. You did anything you could not to focus on how those pants fit his long frame. His ass looked magnificent. The sleeves of his sweater were rolled up to reveal his forearms.

His eyes caught you staring and he fumbled in his speech. He recovered quickly, going over his syllabus for the class. How it was important to show up because he was the type to challenge thinking. He wasn’t going to be a stuffy professor, or at least he wouldn’t try to be.

You heard a soft sigh to your left. You turned to the sound. There was a woman next to you with pale skin and strawberry blonde hair. She looked at Stunna as if he hung the moon.

You didn’t blame her but there was a surge of jealousy. You wanted to tell her to look somewhere else because he was fucking taken. The realization that he did not belong to you was like a bucket of ice water down your back. You turned your attention back to Stunna as he told everyone to introduce themselves.

You fought off a groan. If possible, you would sink further into your seat. You hated when professors did this type of shit. Couldn’t they get to know people some other way? In this day and age of technology, how hard was it to print pictures and names and study it like they made students study for an exam?

Stunna parked his sexy ass on the edge of the desk in the corner of the room. He had an iPad in his hand and he seemed to be jotting notes after each student said their name and a hobby of theirs.

When it was your turn, Stunna said your name. You took a deep breath and recited your name. You drew a blank on any and all hobbies you ever partook in. “I like to travel,” you finally said.

Stunna smirked and nodded. “Any interesting places?” He asked.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I just came back from the DR, actually,” you said.

Stunna nodded. “Very cool! Now, let’s see…” He looked down at his iPad and called the next person but he still had that smirk on his face. You needed to get out. You needed away. He could not make light of the fact that you knew each other. Knowing fuck well it could jeopardize not only you, but his teaching credentials.

Soulmate or not, you were not going to let him throw away his career. The rest of the class went by while you slowly died inside. Stunna introduced some of the books he wanted to read and discuss for the next few months.

As soon as he dismissed the class, you were the first one out of the door. You didn’t think he tried to call after you, but you didn’t give him the chance to. You flew out of the classroom, out of the building, and made a beeline towards the Admin building.

You ran up the steps, lungs burning as you raced across campus. You had a runaway thought that life didn’t seem quite so dull considering that Stunna was in your neck of the woods. But you squashed that. Nothing could happen as long as he was your teacher.

You went up the elevator and got off on the floor with your academic counselor. You made it to his office and knocked on the door. Mr. Sullivan pushed his glasses from his face and looked up with a smile. He was a sweet, if aloof, man who seemed to phone in his work rather than take any joy in it.

“How is the first day of classes?” He asked. He smiled politely, but there was a look in his eye as if he was trying to place you.

“I need to drop a class. Or get a different class?” You sat down in front of Mr. Sullivan’s desk and clutched your backpack to your chest. You didn’t want to look at your phone. You didn’t want to see missed calls or texts from Stunna. There was nothing to discuss until you had all your cards on the table.

Mr. Sullivan’s thick eyebrows drew down as he woke up his ancient computer. He typed around and hummed as he did so. Your leg bounced a mile a minute as he looked up something on it.

“Forgive me, what’s your name and student number?”

You told him, repeating it over and over because you were talking too fast for him. Once he got your information, he was back to humming as he searched. “Now, which class do you need to drop?”

You rolled your neck and told him, again, what you needed done. He nodded and went back to clicking around. There couldn’t be that many literature classes at this fucking school.

“Oh, dear,” he said.

“What does that mean?” You asked. You chewed on your bottom lip. You fought everything in here to jump over the desk and use his computer to drop the class.

Mr. Sullivan shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s too late to drop the class,” he said.

“What? What about the first week's grace period?”

“Usually, yes, you would have the option to switch classes. In your case, however, every literature class at your level is currently full. Perhaps you can check back in at the end of the week and see who starts switching around. Although, you do need this class in order to qualify for your major. I would not suggest dropping it and trying to make it up next year. Six classes are difficult for any student…”

He began to drone on and on about preventing burn out, protecting mental health, whatever else his nasally voice could conjure up. You tuned him out as his words replayed over and over. You were stuck with the class. Or you’d have to try and take six next semester. You could do it, you had no doubt about it. But you shouldn’t have to.

Your last year was your last hurrah before you had to think about what you wanted to do with your major. If you wanted to do grad school or not. You could do a summer class but now was the time to think about internships.

You sighed and sat back in your seat. Hope was cruel. Hope was spiteful and evil. You had your hopes up that Mr. Sullivan would be able to help you but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t save you.

The melancholy this time around sat on you like a ton of bricks. You hadn’t expected to find Stunna on your trip. You hadn’t expected to fall so fast for him. You had your entire life to find someone, true, but you already found your perfect person. Written in the stars for you. Made for you. And now this.

“Now of course, there are some classes offered in the summer for a summer term. But…”

“That’s alright, Mr. Sullivan. I’ll stay in this one. Thanks,” you murmured. You left his office, let the next kid come in and bug the old man, as you left the Admin building. This shit fucking sucked.

You finally fished your phone out of your pocket. As expected, there were missed calls and desperate texts from Stunna.

Stunna: Please, talk to me.

Stunna: Please

Stunna: I didn’t know! We never talked about it.

Stunna: At least let me know you’re alive??

Each text hurt your heart worse. You could feel his desperation, no matter how far apart you were physically. It felt as if his heart was calling towards yours. Connected on some plane you couldn’t see. The last text from him was an address.

Stunna: Please, meet me tonight. Just to talk.

Yeah, right. If you went to his place tonight, you’d do more than talk. Your attraction to him was that strong. That powerful. You knew you needed to talk to him if you were going to stay in his class. You were both adults. You could keep your hands off of each other, right?

Later that night, you met up with Angela and Stella back in the dorm you all shared. They could tell that something was wrong with you but you couldn’t begin to describe it. Every time you tried, the words dried in your throat. Wilting like old flowers.

“Girl, damn. What happened between you and that guy?” Stella asked.

“Did he hurt you?” Angela asked right after.

“It’s fine,” you said. Your leg was back to bouncing. Despite your earlier protests, you needed to talk to Stunna. Meeting at his place wasn’t the smartest move. But what was the alternative? Anywhere you met publicly, you worried that anyone would read it all over your face. You’d be just as obsessed as the girl in your class.

“It’s not fine. If he hurt you, run me his name. I’d beat that mu’fucka up!” Stella said. She held up her tiny fists and shadowboxed in the living room.

You giggled and shook your head. “I promise he didn’t hurt me. He was the perfect gentleman,” you said. Even while he was in your guts, he was still sweet afterwards. He knew exactly what you needed.

“Then what the hell is going on?” Angela asked.

“Right? I feel like we should have told her to look the other way,” Stella said.

“How could we? That man was so damn fine!” Angela said.

“All of them were! Like where the hell they grow them at?”

The sisters went back and forth talking about Stunna and his friends. They were right. All of them were fine. But Stunna was different. Smooth skin, neat beard. Tall as a tree. He checked every last one of your boxes. Smart, funny, cultured, traveled, well read.

You were in trouble. You were standing on the train tracks watching the train approach with lights on, horn blaring, and you couldn’t make yourself move. Didn’t want to move, truth be told.

The time to meet Stunna grew closer. You felt it like the swing of a pendulum. You kept checking your phone. You hadn’t answered Stunna and he hadn’t sent anything else after his address and plea for you to come over.

Before it got too late, you told the sisters that you would go to the library to see if they had the books you needed for class. Anything to avoid having to go to the student store to purchase the books you’d only need once. They continued to talk and watch TV, content to still recover from the trip.

You went to your room, closed the door, and let the panic overtake you. You tore through your closet trying to find an outfit that screamed that this was casual. You were not trying to look pretty for the man.

Jeans seemed too casual. A skirt seemed too suggestive. Romper seemed too out of place. You were thinking too much about it. And you were stalling. You sighed and chose a dress. It still seemed too suggestive, but dresses could be casual. It was whatever. It was no big deal.

You got dressed and left the dorm, heading across campus and off site. There were campus-owned apartments here and you quickly walked, hoping to avoid trouble. The air was cool, almost cold, and there was a light breeze that made trees sway.

In your haste to leave, you forgot a jacket. Stupid. Stupid just like your decision to hike to his apartment up the block. Your feet carried you there anyway and soon you were outside of his door, knocking on it.

A second later, Stunna opened the door. He changed out of his outfit for the day. He wore gray sweatpants and a black tank that highlighted his amazing physique.

God took his time with this one.

There was no doubt about it. You were momentarily struck dumb, openly staring at his body.

“You wanna come in?” His deep voice shook you from your filthy thoughts.

You smiled and giggled nervously. He stepped back and you went inside. The place was like any other standard apartment. White walls, bright hardwood floors that had seen better days, with a small kitchen and bar area.

He had boxes lined up against the wall. Some were open and some weren’t. He was still in the middle of moving in, but he had a linen couch and recliner, coffee table, and a flat screen TV with a football game playing.

He crossed the room and put it on mute. He wiped his hands on the back of his sweats, calling attention to his glorious ass. You clasped your hands in front of you lest the traitorous things do something rash, like smack his booty.

“I was hoping you’d come.”

“I didn’t think I was going to,” you admitted. You felt silly standing in the middle of his living room but you didn’t want to sit down and get comfortable either.

“I’m glad you did. Now I wish we would’ve at least discussed where we were from. When you said you were starting classes, I just didn’t think that it would be possible you’d be in my class,” he said.

You groaned and rubbed your temples. “I tried to drop the class today,” you said.

A flash of hurt ran across his features before he turned to the TV. A moment later, his features were schooled and he nodded. “That’s probably for the best,” he said.

“I couldn’t drop it. It was too late. Everyone else was full and if I wait till next year, I’d be working overtime to pass all my classes,” you said.

Stunna just stared at you across the gap. You played with your fingers, tapping the tips to keep you grounded.

“I don’t like this,” he said. He gestured towards the couch. “Please, come sit. I won’t bite.” He grinned at the end of his sentence and you rolled your eyes, fighting off a grin. He was so damn corny.

You stepped closer anyway, feeling better with each step towards him. You didn’t like being that far away from him either. You sat down, smoothing your blue dress over your legs so that you wouldn’t give him the wrong impression. Maybe jeans would have been better. You definitely needed pants right now.

You felt the heat of Stunna’s attention on your legs, but you clasped your hands over your lap and kept your legs firmly closed, no matter how awkward or painful it was because of your thick thighs.

Stunna sat on the edge of the cushion, legs spread wide and taking up so much room that his knee almost brushed yours. His knee may as well have been a raging fire. This was insane right? To feel so intensely for a stranger?

Stunna didn’t feel like a stranger, that was the problem. He felt like you had known him all your life and you were only remembering your time together. It was surreal and you had no frame of reference for something like this.

“So you can’t drop the class. And I just got hired so I can’t drop it either,” he said.

“Nope,” you said, emphasizing the P.

“We didn’t imagine our connection in Punta Cana. It felt like I was dying when you walked away,” he said.

“Don’t say that,” you said. You sighed and refused to look at him.

“Don’t tell you the truth?” He asked.

“We can’t do anything about it! You’re…my teacher,” you said.

“I’m not suggesting we do anything about it. I’m just…I’m saying that we can’t ignore this. I just found you,” he said. He tilted his head so that he could catch your eyes. You looked up at him and melted.

He was so damn cute that it hurt. It physically hurt you that he looked that way, smiled that way, and all of his attention was focused on you. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world and it was cruel.

“We finally found each other and the universe really said ‘guess again’.” You tried to smile but your heart hurt too damn much.

Stunna moved his hand and slowly grabbed yours. You let him. He slid his fingers in between yours. His hand was hot to the touch. But comforting. Solid. Real. He squeezed your hand and brought it to his lips to place a small kiss on the back of your hand.

“It’s not forever. We can restrain ourselves for four months, can’t we?” He asked.

You licked your lips and looked him over. How? How could you be in the same class as him or be near him and not want to touch him? Hold him? Kiss him? You had shared so much on the beach in the DR and more so in his room.

He pried you open and stared deep into your heart without flinching. He touched your soul. Melded and meshed your worlds together. You couldn’t ignore that. You also didn’t want either one of you to get in trouble. Someone would catch on. It may not be now or in a week, but someone would eventually.

“We can restrain ourselves for four months,” you agreed. It was only four months. Twelve weeks. That was nothing. It would fly by.

Stunna nodded and squeezed your fingers. “So, that means we probably shouldn’t meet like this. Or be alone…ever in the next four months. Because I’m not strong enough to resist you,” he said.

“Shut up!” You laughed and shook your head.

“I wish I could let you see inside my head. You have been on my mind all day. All last night. The things I was thinkin’ ‘bout you earlier,” he said. He bit his lip, head tilted to the side. If you squinted, you were sure that you could see the dirty fantasies playing through his mind.

“You are insane,” you said. “That doesn’t help!”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. That was inappropriate,” he said.

He still held your hand in his and you stared at it. You fit like two lost puzzle pieces to a complicated puzzle. You didn’t want to let go. But you needed to. It needed to start now.

You started to slide your hand from his. He squeezed your hand, unwilling to let go. “Stunna,” you whispered.

“This shit isn’t fair,” he said softly.

“I know. It’s not forever, right?” You asked.

He nodded and loosened his grip. You slipped your fingers from his. You lied. This was the hardest shit you ever had to do in your life. Saying goodbye to him the second time hurt a lot worse. It was physical blow to your gut.

In the DR, you could pretend that it was just a vacation fling. You were talking about meeting up again, but that was in the future. At some unknown date that you didn’t have to think about. You had weeks or months to get to know each other.

Now, he was real and in your face. Now, he was close enough to reach out and grab. An ache thumped in your chest and you stood up. If you didn’t get up and leave right now, you were going to break down in his new apartment and no man needed to see that.

You stood and stepped away from his couch, already feeling the numbness creep back in. The hopelessness that the next four months would drag on and on. You made it halfway to the door before Stunna called your name.

You turned towards him just as he was crashing his lips to yours. You hadn’t heard him cross the distance, but with his long ass legs it probably only took him two steps to reach you. He grabbed the sides of your head and tilted your head so that he could kiss you deeper.

The strength of his kiss undid you. You melted instantly into his arms, kissing him back with as much desperation. He backed you up until your back hit the wall and he pressed you into it, rubbing his erection into your lower belly.

You had a taste of that so you knew how good it felt. How well he maneuvered it to bring you the most utmost pleasure. You gripped onto his shoulders and held him closer to you while you kissed and explored each other’s mouths.

His warm lips were heaven against yours. Tongue playing with yours. You never wanted it to end. Just kissing him got your panties damp, arousal starting to leak out of you. Sweat gathered between your thighs and you rubbed them together, needing more friction than that.

Stunna broke the kiss, giving you some much needed oxygen. It brought a little clarity. “Stunna, we can’t–”

Stunna kissed you again, cutting off your complaints. “We need a proper goodbye right?”

“We had one yesterday,” you pointed out.

“Naw, this is a real one. Please. I can’t let you walk away for four months without something to hold me over,” he said.

“You so nasty,” you said and grinned.

He looked into your eyes and grinned. His smile would always slay you. It was so open and joyous. Straight teeth. Perfect teeth. Perfect smile. Perfect man.

“Hm, I seem to recall a bad little girl letting strangers play with her pussy,” he said. He smacked your lips with his, once and then twice. He kissed along your jaw and then started kissing your neck. “You can’t wear a dress like this and not expect me to lose my mind.”

“I didn’t know what to wear!” You said.

His hands moved from your head down your sides and then gripped your ass under your dress. He moaned, clenching and unclenching your ass cheeks with a low growl.

“Do me a favor and don’t wear dresses for the next four months. I won’t be able to handle it,” he said.

You made a strangled noise in the back of your throat. He wouldn’t be able to handle it? “Then you have to come to work looking like a bum, because that’s not fair,” you said. He got to look like an Adonis while you had to dress like a nun? How was that fair?

He squeezed your ass and you moaned, back bowing off of the wall. “Take these panties off for me,” he said.

Your hands flew to your panties before your mind caught up. You hesitated briefly. Stunna stilled against you, likely giving you a chance to step away. Fuck it. You needed a proper goodbye. You needed something to hold you over as well. Something to get you through these next four months.

You got rid of your panties and he helped you take off your shoes and then your panties. He grinned, lips returning to yours. You moaned, feverish for his kisses. Stunna hissed knelt down in front of you.

He gathered up your dress and pooled it around your hips and fisted it in one hand. He spread your pussy lips with his free hand and delved into your pussy with his tongue.

“Oh shit!” You moaned. You lifted one leg to give him better access. He growled his appreciation and moved his long tongue towards your dripping entrance. He pumped his tongue in and out of you and your eyes rolled back.

“OH fuck!” You screamed. Your hands dug into his small afro and pulled whatever you could get your hands on. His mouth felt amazing on your pussy. His nose tickled your clit and you felt it in your belly. You huffed and moaned, thighs shaking.

He moved his tongue to your clit and flicked it back and forth with a speed you didn’t know he possessed. Your whines turned to desperate cries as you began to shake in earnest, screaming out an orgasm.

Stunna rolled his whole head, slurping up your juices. He moaned into your pussy. He smacked your ass as you twitched above him. You looked down and caught his eyes at the same time. You almost came again. Locking eyes with him brought a level of intensity to the moment that you couldn’t describe. He made you feel like you were a giant. Or sitting on top of the world.

When he was done with you, he slowly withdrew. There was a spit chain between his lips and your pussy. He grinned, watching it expand. He finally licked his lips and broke it. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood up.

“Taste even better than I remember. Should’ve seen the nut I busted in the shower this morning,” he said.

Your head dropped forward against his chest. “Fuck, don’t tell me that,” you said.

His rumbling chuckle vibrated against your cheek. You lifted your head and moved your hand beneath his sweats. He went commando underneath and you lifted an eyebrow at him. He grinned as your hand wrapped around his dick. You stroked him slowly because you didn’t have enough lubrication to get him going.

“Was gripping my meat and stroking, thinkin’ ‘bout you. About the sounds you made. The way you fit me so well,” he said. As he spoke, his tone went lower. He leaned forward and kissed you.

He moved his hips and your hand slipped out. You looked at him with the question in your eyes. He grabbed your hips and turned you around. “As much as I would love those lips on me, I’ve been dying to get back in this pussy,” he said.

He tugged the top of your dress until it came down and trapped your arms to your sides. He pushed you against the wall. The cold hit your nipples and you cried out. He scooted in closer and you felt him tug his sweats down.

He lifted your left leg, slapping his meat against your pussy. The wet smacks were filthy. You moaned and he ran his dick in between your folds, getting the tip wet.

The tip of his dick pushed at your entrance and you moaned. He slid in, inch by inch, savoring the feeling of getting filled up by him. You were a huffing, panting mess by the time he bottomed out. He kissed your neck where it met your shoulder and you moaned.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

Exactly your sentiments. You fit. You were a perfect match. He filled you up, just this side of incredibly full, and you closed your eyes to the sensation. To the feeling. He pinned you to the wall and began to move slowly, sliding in and out of you.

“Shit,” he moaned.

“You feel so good, baby,” you moaned.

“I feel good? You feel like home,” he said. He continued to kiss your neck, nibbling a bit, as his strokes increased.

Your hands were on the wall, trying to anchor yourself against him. His strokes increased until he was rutting inside of you. Each thrust drew a ragged moan from your lips. He moved to a different angle and touched your sweet spot. You cried out, shaking desperately on his dick.

“There’s my fucking spot,” he said. He grinned against your skin. Your head flopped to the side. You bit your arm. He felt too good. Slipping in and out of you. The wet smacks of your combined juices were lewd and turned you on more. Made you drip more.

“So fuckin’ wet, nasty girl. You like this dick, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” you moaned, nodding your head.

“You like this dick inside you?” He asked.

“Uh-huh, so good,” you moaned. You drooled against your arm.

“Let me hear you then,” he said. He moved his free hand down between your legs and began to stroke your clit in tandem with his thrusts. Your moans increased in volume, turning into screams as you crashed into another orgasm.

Stunna kissed your cheek and jaw, licked the shell of your ear. “Sound so pretty when you cum. Music to my ears, baby,” he said.

“Nut in me,” you moaned.

“What?” He asked.

“Nut in me, please, I need it,” you moaned.

Stunna growled and increased his thrusts. They turned into a brutal fucking, spearing you. He still played with your clit as he slammed into you, fucking you just how you liked. There was no begging. There was no negotiating. You didn’t have to stop in the middle to communicate that yes, it was okay to get rougher. It was okay to rock into your shit.

Stunna just did it. He gave you exactly what you needed.

“You want this nut?” He asked.

“Yessss,” you moaned.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he said.

“Stunna, ouuee Stunna,” you moaned in between his strokes.

“That’s right, you let me know who owns this pussy,” he said.

“You. You own this pussy,” you moaned. He groaned before you finished your sentence. He nutted, his hot cum filling you to the brim. Some of it even slipped out and ran down your thigh. You shivered, your head turning fuzzy at the sensation.

Stunna finally stilled his strokes and let his dick pulse. You hissed feeling it. Stunna dropped your thigh and grabbed your neck. He pulled you back into him and you turned your head so that you could kiss him. The kiss was sloppy and you both panted, breath fanning across each other’s faces. But any touch of his lips was worth it.

Stunna kissed your cheek. “I still got some more for you,” he said.

“More?” You asked.

Stunna slipped out of you and then roughly turned you around. He kissed you, pressing you back against the wall with the force of his kisses. He kissed down your body, rolling his tongue around both of your nipples. You cried out.

He tugged you by the front of your dress towards the arm of his couch. He bent you over it and spread your ass cheeks. He moaned and smacked your ass.

“Fuck, I need all night with you to say goodbye,” he said.

You were too blissed out to chuckle. Or laugh. Your head was floating, flying; your mind went on a little trip and you had no plans of returning.

He slipped back inside and you shared a moan, feeling complete once more. He immediately went back to pounding and rutting, slamming his thighs against your ass with the force of his strokes.

“Who own this shit?” He asked.

“Youuu,” you moaned.

“Own the fuck outta this pussy. Feelin’ so good, pussy feelin’ so good. It’s mine now,” he groaned in between thrusts. The arm of the couch dug into your gut and it felt good. You felt just as you did on Saturday night. Possessed. Owned.

“It’s yours!” You moaned. “It’s yours, Stunna!”

“Damn right. Gonna write my initials in this pussy,” he groaned. His fingers turned bruising on your hips.

His initials were already there. It felt like with every stroke, he was stitching your souls together. You became one soul every time his tip kissed your cervix. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moaned on each thrust.

His fingers moved to your clit again, flicking his fingers against it. You tried to lean up. You didn’t know why, only that you needed to move. To ease up a bit. He pressed on your back and made you take his dick. Made you take the brutal pounding.

“Guhh,” you moaned and came with a loud cry. Your pussy gripped onto him and he moaned, thrusts turning sloppy and twitching. He came right after you, giving you another round of his cum. He soaked your pussy and you shivered, full body shaking.

Stunna slammed once more into you and then stilled, dick pulsing. His cum slipped down your thighs again. You were deliciously sore. You both panted in the quiet space. You listened to any sound he made. Greedy to capture everything. If this was goodbye, you were hesitant to see what hello looked like.

Stunna slowly slipped out of you. You cried out.

“Shh, shh, you know I got you, baby,” he said. When he was out, you were still sore as hell. You began to shake as the cold crept in. Something so powerful took a lot of energy. You weren’t just imagining things on Saturday. It wasn’t the anonymity of the vacation. You two shared a real connection. The kind love songs and poems were written about. And it was scary as hell.

Stunna returned with a warm washcloth. You cried out, leaning up against the couch. Stunna cooed and talked softly. “I got you. I’m right here,” he said. He finished and wiped up your thighs as well.

When finished, he disappeared with the washcloth and then came back. He helped you stand and adjusted the dress back to where it should be. Then he moved towards the couch and had you straddle him. He held you and rubbed your back as you scooted into him and laid your head on his shoulder.

You didn’t speak. There was nothing to say. You had to find the strength to walk away from this in the morning. You weren’t going to fight it. You needed this goodbye as much as he did. You needed to get your mind wrapped around the fact that you couldn’t have this for months.

It wasn’t the end of the world but it sure as shit felt like it. You were tired of being strong. But for now, you’d have to endure. It was the only way to get the best of both worlds.

You listened to the cadence of his breathing. Warm chest. Strong arms around your back. “It’s not forever,” he said quietly.

No, it wasn’t forever.

D'awww, if you need more, you know I got you!

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 1 | Part 3

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Big Stunna Files #Big Stunna x Black!reader #Big Stunna x Black reader #x Black reader #Big Stunna x Fem!reader #Big Stunna x Fem reader #x Fem reader #Professor!Big Stunna #Big Stunna fanfic #Big Stunna fan fic #Big Stunna fan fanfiction #Big Stunna fan fiction #yahya abdul mateen ii #Yahya Abdul Mateen II fanfic #All Day and a Night fanfic #All Day and a Night fan fic #All Day and a Night fanfiction #All Day and a Night fan fiction

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anitalenia · 1 year ago

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━━━ 𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒐 𝒅𝒖𝒎 𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒔 ₓ˚. ୭ pt. 3

━━ 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒐��𝒔 / 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔. the frontier boys as random tropes. ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ part one | part two | part four

˖ ࣪⭑ pairing: Pope, Ironhead, Ben, Catfish x fem!Reader

˖ ࣪⭑ content includes: dark content, sexual content, dark!teacher, serial killer, stepcest, male masturbation, female masturbation, dildos, mentions of blood and death, power imbalance, spanking, dom + sub allusions, unhealthy obsession, mentions of riding + sexual acts, taboo subjects, pillow riding, size kinks, age gap, sexy videos, blowjobs

˖ ࣪⭑ authors note: I always see Frank as being an age gap kinda guy 😭 I just see him being a funny fatherly figure that you want to do dirty things to 😜

LINKS ੈ♡˳·˖✶ 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 | 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒔

━━ SANTIAGO ‘POPE’ GARCIA ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫, short skirts and tempting skin

You were so young and bright, so full of potential, just glittering with opportunity. You were a rising star that he needed to snatch down from the sky before you rose too far.

He was your mentor, your guide, taught you right from wrong while disobeying the very teachings he taught when he’d stare at your legs in those short skirts he swore you wore for him. He’d have to adjust his slacks at his desk every time he’d catch a glimpse of your puffy lips in those pink panties of yours.

He pictured throwing all of his papers off his desk and fucking you into the mahogany, telling you how bad of a girl you’ve been as he’d spank your ass and teach you some discipline.

He’d fail you on the tests you aced, the tests you studied weeks on end for and meticulously memorized every answer. You’d go to him just as he expected you would, confused and troubled and feeling dumb. You’d hold up the test with a big red D scribbled on the corner, almost in tears as you’d believed you’d done so well.

He’d console you, schedule a time after class where you two could meet privately and he could stare at you without the suspicion of his other students. He hated having to hide it, but he loved scooting so close to you as he pretended to be interested in whatever you said, staring at your breasts and imagining ripping your top off and having you ride him in his chair, those perky tits bouncing in his face as he taught you how to ride cock properly.

You always smelt of honey and sugar, your hair always in ringlets and your shirts always a little too tight. You were the golden rays of sunshine that warmed his brown skin, the dash of aurous flakes in his hazel eyes as he’d look at you. You were his favorite student, so eager to learn and equally as eager to please.

He was sure you’d be dumb enough to do whatever he said eventually, fall for his stupid jokes and his soft smiles, swoon at his encouragement and intelligence. He just had to play his cards right, toy with you until you believed any word he said like it was gospel, be stupid enough to believe that the only way he could think straight was when he’s had his cock sucked.

You were his favorite student, the muse to his writings, the subject of his teachings and the tempting golden apple hanging from the tree. Soon enough he was going to pluck you from those branches, but first, he needed you to believe he was the beguiled Adam to your tempting Eve, not the ever-deceiving serpent hanging from the tree.

Your favorite teacher was going to ensure that you become the catalyst of his own destruction, for his morality had already fallen long ago…

━━ WILLIAM ‘IRONHEAD’ MILLER ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫, killer cravings and deadly passions

He killed women who looked like you because he couldn’t help it. Destruction was in his marrow, gasoline flowing through his blood, fire spurting from his fingertips and burning anything he touched.

He had seen you one late night, cold and shivering, alone and vulnerable. He was covered in blood and smelt of iron and copper, dirt and earth. He would’ve scared you if you’d had seen him, run away and called the cops like any girl in your position would have.

He thought you were pretty, easily submissive and docile like a tiny doe in the meadow. He was the wolf hiding in the tall grass, hungry and bloody and hunting. He didn’t want to hurt you though, loved to look at you too much, knew no other girl would get his cock as hard as you did. He always pictured fucking you in the alleyway when you’d take the trash out, ripping off your work clothes and slicing your panties off with the edge of his knife. He knew you were too weak to deny him, too scared to fight, too beautiful to resist.

He’d follow you to work, watched you when you slept, fucked his fist outside your home in the cloak of shadow. He killed anyone who tried to pluck his precious flower, took their life as his own and left them in the dirt where the trash belonged. You were entrancing, a blood red rose growing on a grave, and he was the thorn on the stem. You were beautiful to anyone who might’ve looked, but dangerous to anyone who dare touched.

You didn’t know why death had seemed to surround you closer than community; didn’t know why every person you touched crumbled to dirt. Your hands were stained with blood whether you wanted to admit it or not, countless lives lost like you’d been collecting them as stones.

You were alone once more, just as he saw you that first night. You didn’t need family or friends when you had him, he was the soil that was going to help you grow, the sun that fed your leaves. He just had to be patient until you were ready to be plucked, ready to live in the vase he’d put you in and care for your every whim.

He couldn’t wait to finally have you with him, strapped to his bed as he fucked the handle of his knife into your wet pussy, heard your cries and moans as you’d beg and beg and he’d get harder and harder. He’d take good care of you or else he’d make you regret it.

He killed women that looked like you because he couldn’t wait to have you, finding temporary joys in their blood then incredible lows when he was done. He was getting antsy, wondering how much longer it was going to take until you were fully blossomed. He was missing you and craving you, hands buzzing to burn you.

You didn’t know it, but you had been dancing along the sharp edge of his blade, bound to get cut eventually. A meandering Bambi in the forest, bound to be caught, and a beautiful flower, bound to wither… until there was nothing left but ash.

━━ BENJAMIN MILLER ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, taboo fantasies, mutual pining

He wasn’t new in your life; you had been with him since high school and always hung off his arm and shoved him like brothers and sisters would do. He was funny and tall, was even on the wrestling team before graduation, the son of a rugged man who married your wilting mother.

He was the butt of your jokes, the annoyed prickle under your skin, the headache in your skull. But even you couldn’t deny his attractiveness; his tan skin, his toothy grin and his muscled sculpture. He was chiseled from marble, strong as stone and as beautiful as diamond.

You knew it was such a taboo subject, to fuck yourself with your pink dildo late at night, even early in the morning, cumming at the idea that it was your big, strong, stepbrother’s cock that was making you cum instead. You’d whine and moan, trying to keep quiet when you’d writhe in your bed with your pussy squelching on your fingers as you heard Benny’s laughter just outside your door.

You’d wear his shirts when he wasn’t home, act helpless so he’d reach on the shelf and get it for you when you couldn’t reach. You’d make videos of yourself cumming on your pillow as you moaned his name, your clit rubbing back and forth like it was his thigh, then watch it later. You couldn’t even stop yourself from lingering by his door when he’d bring girls home, jealous and horny at the sound of his grunts and her muffled cries coming from the other side.

Your parents were oblivious when you’d hug him for too long, he was too nice to pull away. They were oblivious when you’d wear your short shorts and tank tops and make him spend the day with you, the way you’d pretend to fall asleep in his bed when you’d watch a movie with him, wake up with his arm around you then continue on with your day like it never happened.

You weren’t sure when your obsession had started only that it had grown on you like a vine, festered inside you for years like a boil. You couldn’t even talk to him for too long without that familiar slickness forming between your legs, your skin itching for his rough hands to bend your thighs to your head and fuck you hard for being so naughty.

He’d hug you, push you, make fun of you, console you, laugh with you. You were almost deluded enough to believe it was for reasons more than two step siblings comfortable with each others differences. That he was falling for you just as much as you did him, that he sat next to you at family dinners because he liked you close to him.

But at night, when Benny would bid you farewell and retire to his own room as you did yours, as you’d pull your phone out and fuck yourself at the picture of you and him at the beach, as you’d cum on your sheets with a muffled cry, you were completely oblivious to what Benny was doing just across the hall…

His fist twisting around his hard cock, picturing it was your plushy tits he was fucking instead…

━━ FRANCISCO ‘CATFISH’ MORALES ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐞𝐱-𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐝, shameless desire, experienced hands

He was a single man, abandoned by his wife years ago and left to raise his son by himself. He was hardworking and bullheaded, but still found time to smile between work and bed in the gossip of his son.

Your breakup with him was still fresh in the air, too tender to poke at unless you’d want an argument. Even Frank had believed you two would last long; all giddy smiles and fluttering hearts. But then you found him in bed with another woman, and your smile fell and your heart broke and Frank felt an opportunity arise.

He was a shitty father, always looked at the tight young ass of his sons girlfriend when she’d come over, bring her towels when she was in the shower, do her laundry so she had no choice but to masquerade in his flannels. He loved his son but he didn’t raise a cheater, so he didn’t feel bad when he would fuck his hand in his bedroom with one of your sparkly pink bras in his hand, one he found when he was doing an old load of laundry he’d forgotten about.

He would imagine you drooling on his balls as he tied your hair up for you, teach you how to touch him in the way he liked. He wanted to give you a man with experienced hands, a man who didn’t cheat with random bitches when there was perfectly good pussy right there by his side. He’d never discourage you, hurt you, he’d cradle your heart like a baby bird in the palms of his hands.

You came over to pick up your stuff shortly after and Frank was the only one home. He welcomed you in with a sentimental smile, giving you a hug and kiss on your forehead, savoring the feeling of your smooth skin under his work-torn palms, wondering what your lips would feel like under his.

He stared at your ass as you’d walk ahead of him when he shut the door, imagined fucking you against the dining table and licking you up clean when his son would walk in. If you saw it as revenge Frank wouldn’t have minded, just grateful to have that pussy wrapped around him and hear those moans in his ear other than down the hall from his room.

You had a sad smile on your face as you chatted politely with him, and he knew he could fuck a smile back on your face if you’d let him. He nodded his head in understanding like he didn’t want you crying around his cock instead, like he wasn’t debating whether or not to pick you up and throw you on the couch, his sons feelings be damned.

You always thought Frank was nice, kind and courteous and always had a dad joke at hand for when you’d ask. He’d sit on the recliner with a beer in his hand, slowly rocking back and forth as he’d watch a football game. You always loved the messiness of it, so unused to a man who didn’t give a damn what anybody thought about him.

You had come to the house in a final attempt to own up to your own feelings, tell Frank you wanted his hands in your hair and his tongue in your pussy just as much as you needed oxygen. But you were shy and intimidated by the maturity in him, worried he’d look at you as a pathetic little girl trying to bite more than she could chew.

Frank watched as you lingered in the hallway and gave him those pretty little eyes, your bag of clothes fiddling in your hand as he ran his eyes up and down your body like a hungry man staring at his dinner.

He could almost crack a smile at that, something in his stomach making his cock stir in his jeans as he realized you weren’t wearing a bra, your nipples poking through the fabric of your top as you stared at him with nervous lusting eyes.

He looked back at you, knowing exactly what you wanted.. and he planned on giving it to you.

thanks for reading! likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. also, the title is a latin phrase that means, ‘so long as you love me’, for anyone who was curious. and always remember that you’re loved and important <;3

#˖⁺. 𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙖 .𖥔 ݁#santiago #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #will ironhead miller #will miller #william miller #William miller x reader #will miller x reader #frank morales x reader #frank morales #benny miller #benny miller x reader

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esha-isboogara · 2 years ago

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𝓽𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓹𝓮𝓽 ♡ !!WIP!!

*i’ve had this in my notes since ninth grade but i am feeling pretty motivated to reboot it sooo

my daddy issues and my need for validation from my higher ups is really starting to shine through huh ? i’ve had a crush on jake peralta since i was young so why not release all those thoughts onto the page..ALSO amy is not around in this bc i can’t bear to have them in the same universe and not be together i love them so so so much.

teacher!jake peralta x highschool!reader

y/n gets a low score on her health quiz and doesn’t know how to feel. lucky for her mr. peralta knows a thing or two about sex ed.

☆you know the drill minors..shoo shoo!!! power imbalance, piv sex, oral(m), fingering, praise, dirty talk, sex on the desk, reader is of age

y/n glanced down at her paper ,blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall. the number 33 was scrawled out on the top in distinct red ink as if to rub everything in. she was in utter disbelief.

“if anyone has a problem with their grade feel free to speak to me at the end of class”. the teacher spoke , leaning against the chalk board.

she wanted to get to her feet and scream in his face . how could he have done this? she was a perfect student and he just ruined it like it was nothing. how could he be so calm about the whole ordeal? but she stayed seated , doing her best to gain control of her emotions. she was in high school now , too big to be crying over grades. you were college bound, just a few more months you had to hold on.

the end of class came in a flash. y/n did her best to gain composure as she walked up to his desk.

“can i talk to you about my grade mr. colbert”? she asked timidly,placing the piece of paper in front of him.

he gave her an unamused look and nodded. “make it quick miss l/n”.

taking a deep breath and mustering all her confidence she finally spoke. “this lesson doesn’t make much sense to me ..i studied for it all this month and i still failed. i was hoping”-

mr colbert put his hand up as an indication for her to stop. “look y/n, i’m sure you’re used to getting your way when it comes to your grades. kids like you infuriate me, trying to worm your way into a teachers heart in order to pass. unlucky for you though i’m nothing like that. sorry you failed my quiz but that is not my fault. maybe study harder next time and don’t rely on me to be your saving grace”.

it was clear he didn’t want to continue the conversation. she thanked him for his time and walked out a few warm tears trickling down her face.

“fucking jerk”. she thought,clutching her bag. she needed someone to talk to.

—————-

“mr.peralta”? she peeked her head in through the open door hoping to see him. to her relief there was, sitting pretty at his desk.

his head turned towards her and he smiled warmly. “hey y/n ? what’s goin on”? he was a nonchalant as ever. it was always so easy to talk to him or at least for her.

she walked in and sat in one of the empty desks in the front of the room. “i need your help with something. it’s school related so don’t worry..usually i wouldn’t bother asking but you’re the only person i’m comfortable speaking to”.

he nodded , his dark umber eyes locked onto hers. she always felt so special when he focused all his attention on her when she was speaking. like she was the only girl in the world. she knew how strange these feelings were but she never failed to embrace them when they surfaced.

“im failing health..and mr. colbert refuses to work with me. so i figured i’d ask you instead”.

his face lit up. “i’m truly honored y/n. i would be more than happy to help you out whatever way i can”. the man left his chair and made his way towards her. “ and i’m sorry mr. colbert is such a douche to you y/n. he’s usually the main topic of gossip in the staff room…you didn’t hear that from me though”.

the tenseness in her shoulders eased at his words. she knew she could always count on him. she could feel a smile creep onto her face.

“ugh, i’m so glad i’m not the only one who feels this way about him. all the kids in my class adore him”.

“oh not by a long shot”. he laughed. oh that laugh. y/n felt so comfortable in his presence.

a bit of small talk ensued , the both of them laughing and talking like old friends.

it almost made y/n forget why she came here.

almost.

“here”. she handed him the large packet , his hands brushing over hers as she did so. if she wasn’t carful she’d start developing unprofessional feelings towards him.

“can you explain to me what you’re learning”? mr. peralta asked, his eyes scanning the packet in his hands.

she nodded. “yeah so basically it’s like sex ed and stuff…ya know consent and the parts of the body and all”. for some reason she felt her face heat up as she spoke. she wasn’t sure why. “i know about all of it but the terms really confuse me”.

he nodded. “yeah yeah that makes sense”. with a grin handed the papers back to her. “i think i can teach you a thing or two about sex ed. but you know how much i hate book work so instead we’re going to try a more…hands on approach”. his tone was sweet but she could see something more primal behind his eyes.

y/n was eager to pass her health class so of course she’d do anything.

jake found it adorable how oblivious she was to the situation. what an innocent little girl waiting for a man like him to ruin that angelic façade.

“okay. let’s start with consent hmm”? he sat in the chair next to yours. he placed his hand on her thigh causing an exited shiver to run down her spine.

“consent is important for both parties understand? one person can want it but the other might not. don’t ever let a man force you into submitting to his wishes”. his hand was now running up your thigh ,passing underneath her uniform skirt. “for example , do you consent for me to go on with this y/n ? your answer will not change anything don’t worry”.

y/n felt all the breath leave her lungs at once. she couldn’t believe this was happening right now. was she actually about to fuck her juvenile justice teacher?

“y-yes”. she managed to say.

mr. peralta held a stern look on his face. “you’re sure y/n”?

unable to speak she nodded her head vigorously. the tingling sensation on her inner thigh was something foreign but not unwelcome.

“perfect ! you’re such a fast learner y/n, my smart girl”. he hoisted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing and sat her on the surface of his desk.

how could such a man be so strong she thought to herself. though, she was not complaining.

he sat down in his desk chair and admired her pretty figure sitting atop his desk. it was heavenly. she was obviously so flustered. he wanted to take her as soon as possible.

“have you ever had sex y/n”?

she was taken aback by his question but shook her head earnestly. “no mr. peralta. i…have never been kissed either”. y/n immediately regretted sharing that bit of information she was sure she made herself look like a fool in front of her teacher

he felt his heart skip a beat at this information. the thought of destroying her for every every other man was appealing to him. “so i’m your first? a pretty girl like you i would have expected at least a kiss”.

he moved his face upwards and ghosted his lips against hers. “but i am more than happy to be your first”.

“m-mr. peralta”?

“call me jake sweetheart, it’ll sound so pretty coming from your mouth”.

“thank you for helping me…it means a lot of me”. she spoke nervousness laced in her tone and she was starting to fidget with her fingers.

grasping your hand in his he gave it a confident squeeze. “no need to thank me yet beautiful, we haven’t even got to the good part yet”.

he slid his fingers over her clothed sex, basking in how wet she was. and just for him. the amount of restraint it took for him to not wreck her right then and there was immense.

“okay sweetheart, just follow my directions and you’ll be fine”.

she nodded again eager to have this feeling of tension building in her stomach relived.

“yes mr. peral-i mean jake”.

always so ready to please him. jake knew he didn’t deserve a girl like her sitting pretty atop his desk but he was not going to ponder the fact longer than a millisecond.

ever so gentle he moved her panties to the side , the gasp of pleasure was music to his ears as the cold air washed over her sex.

“my my y/n..you really are filthy. i never would have taken you for that type of girl”.

she turned her face away from his gaze,not wanting him to see how flustered he was able to get her.

“no need to be shy , i think it’s cute” he comforted. it was taking a lot of self restraint on his part for him not to devour her then and there. the last thing he wanted to do was over stimulate the poor thing.

her thighs we’re quivering at his touch ,it was clear how eager she was.

“i’m going to touch you now sweetheart..is that okay with you”?

#no father activities #another middle aged man #andy samberg #jake peralta #jake peralta smut #jake peralta x reader #esha writes

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that-bi-bitch-writes · 3 years ago

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P S Y C H (ch.1)

I hate definition intros but it has to be done: The word "PSYCH" is commonly used online and in conversation as a slang term to indicate that something that has just been said or typed was intended as a prank on the recipient or a joke.

Also short for Psychic

Next Chapter

Say what you want about organized religion, but you can’t deny that it is one of the most dangerous weapons on the planet. For centuries people have developed weapons and fought wars in the name of their beliefs. They’ve conquered lands and assimilated nations. Give the people superpowers and there’s no way people don’t die on a daily basis. Unless you give them lame ass powers and call them quirks. God’s funny like that. Most people get run of the mill things like the ability to draw small objects close to them. That way there’s a power imbalance in the world. It’s less chaos if only a select few get the good abilities. Less people question God’s authority that way. Those who get the awesome superpowers are seen as blessed, divine. Honored.

[Mo.Name] [L.Name] was not blessed. She was liked by God at best. Being an empath, her quirk was not something to marvel at. If she worked hard to develop it, she could use her quirk offensively and defensively or even professionally but she would never be someone who was in charge of maintaining the world order.

As she grew older she would become disillusioned with God and the blessed individuals that policed over the nations. They called themselves heroes, and a few people were but everything about hero society just didn’t sit well with her. She became a teacher instead and worked with kids with special needs. When they had trouble expressing themselves she could use her quirk to get a feel for what they needed in the moment or she could project enough calmness that they could pull themselves together and communicate without throwing a fit.

She had a kid at a young age. 30 years old. Not too young and not too old. But by the time she was 35 she was a single mother. Her kid was the best. He didn’t cry too often and he learned how to speak very young. He soaked up information like a sponge and he didn’t develop a flashy quirk like the heroes she felt mild contempt for. Her baby was ignored by God.

Psych.

“No one is born equal. Yadda yadda yadda- How long has he been planning this monologue? No seriously it’s been playing in his head since the day (not really) we first met and I’m kind of bored of it now”

Izuku Midoriya was not a late bloomer. He never got his quirk, he has the extra toe joint, and he was bullied for being powerless. A Deku. [Name] [L.Name] WAS a late bloomer. He got teased a little, picked on. Sometimes people even gave him pitying looks. But it all ended when he turned about six. There’s that old saying: two roads diverged in a yellow wood. Well one of those roads is for those scorned, and the other for those who who were touched by fire yet never burned. The sinner and the saint. What a traveller wouldn’t know is, that at some point, the roads converge. How else are they supposed to get to the same destination?

Wonder, outsiders..who is on which road? What makes the sinner a sinner and not a saint?

“Using your quirk in public is illegal”

“And minding your own business is free” [Name] bit back. What’s a little telekinesis gonna do? Cause mass destruction? Widespread panic? He just didn’t want to touch the handle on the door. Public spaces are very unsanitary... it’s not like his arms are too sore to do any sort of lifting. Nope. Not at all.

[Name] had unfortunately spent the entire weekend doing his least favorite activity. Physical exercise. Of course with a quirk like his he’d rarely ever need physical strength, but that’s exactly what everyone else would think. And [Name] is the type of kid that wants you to doubt him so he can feel the rush of proving you wrong. It’s a warped mindset but when no one ever expects anything from you, it’s kind of a thrill to see the surprised looks on their faces. A psychic with impressive physical strength would be the same as someone 5’6 (167.6 cm) dominating a sport made for tall people. Like basketball. Or volleyball.

Anyway, [Name] was in the sportswear store, a place he’d rather not be caught dead in, trying to get support for his wrists. Most of his quirk usage was through precise hand movements, a slight flick of the wrist could easily send someone flying. His hands, and by extension his wrists were very important. A punch thrown wrong during training could fracture that oh so important wrist, hence the whole idea of getting wrist wraps.

For once [Name] was actually being proactive and he was very proud of himself for thinking of the idea in the first place. His eyes glowed golden as he reached his hand out to grab the wraps floating down from the top shelf. The UA exams were in about a week and a half and he had no idea what to expect. So he would train for everything they could throw at him. Even if it meant he had to go back to throwing punches at an oversized bag of sand.

[Name] used his telekinesis so often the drawback was nearly negligible. But if he did overuse it, the damage was a headache that could range from minor inconveniences like losing your chapstick, to a grenade going off in an enclosed space. The big ones weren’t usually the problem. The problem would be somewhere in the middle, because it would cause him to lose control of his telepathy, and once the headache combined with the voices of everyone in a 50 meter vicinity his brain would get seriously overwhelmed. Ultimately he’d be passed out on the ground within 5 minutes.

For the first year and a half of middle school three times a week [Name] would have fighting training along with weight training, alternating days so that he’d have a break in between each session. This was all pretty much to catch up with his rapidly developing quirk. [Name]’s body wasn’t prepared for the use of his quirk. He grew to the age of 6 doing things normally until his untapped power literally exploded out of him. Talk about damage control. For quirk training he usually offered to help his neighbor who ran a junkyard by lifting cars and other heavy things telekinetically. An unofficial part of the training regime, [Name] would also read other people’s thoughts all day everyday. He said it was to get used to hearing others’ voices in his head. But that was only a half truth. [Name] was just extremely nosy, but he went about it in a casual way. He probably should apologize for the invasion of privacy but he loved every minute of it. Besides, listening to the spirits of others could be considered a god-honored practice.

On the day of the entrance exams [Name] regretted everything. He’d decided to become a hero for fun, less than two weeks prior (the whole reason he went to the sportswear store and started working out again), and by the grace of god he was regretting it. Not because he was nervous he’d fail, at least he wasn’t before he got there. It was just SO loud. He’d gotten better at controlling his quirk since he began using telepathy to eavesdrop but the last time he was in a room full of this many people was the middle school entrance ceremony (which he skipped halfway through because of a headache. By the way how could so many kids sitting in silence be so loud). It made sense, he was not used to having to deal with the noise of people muttering, thinking, PANICKING. And now that his quirk is stronger than what it was before everything felt ten times worse. [Name] leaned forward and tapped the green haired boy sitting in front of him muttering. Not only could he hear the boy’s thoughts going a mile a minute but his mouth was too. The kid whipped around eyes wide and shook nervously. [Name] was about to ask him to quiet down but got confused when he made sense of the kid’s thoughts.

The kid was obviously a fanboy muttering about Present Mic who was getting on [Name]’s nerves a little with his exorbitant amount of energy. Before [Name] could say anything the ash-blonde near the fanboy spoke up.

“He’s probably telling you to shaddup”

The green haired boy opened his mouth to apologize and then realized he would be making more noise and quickly shut it before nodding profusely. [Name] was tired of referring to them by their hair colors and may have invaded the fanboy’s head for some background information on the two and got more than he bargained for. The fanboy whose name was apparently Izuku, was not only sitting next to Bakugou, his childhood bully, but just this morning he had gained an immense amount of power, officially becoming All Might’s successor. Oh look, two of them would be taking the exam in the same area. Things at UA were gonna get interesting.

#bnha x male reader #mha x male #male reader #male reader insert #x male reader #m!reader #m!reader insert #x m!reader #bnha #mha #that bi bitch writes #that-bi-bitch-writes #psych

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sepublic · 4 years ago

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Eda and Lilith as Teachers

One thing this show really likes to discuss is the idea of mentorship, of teaching others… And that naturally ties well into the show’s themes of education and systems that are meant to implement learning, but don’t do it so well. It’s about passing knowledge on to new generations, instilling a new passion into people, and/or feeding into the natural curiosity of others!

So I think Eda and Lilith’s roles as teachers is definitely worth analyzing, comparing, and contrasting, especially given their narrative ties and parallels to one another as sisters! The thing about Lilith is… She very much comes across as the ‘proper’ image of a teacher; She’s well-educated and has a prestigious position in the Emperor’s Coven, graduated from high school… She teaches multiple students –not just Amity- and she has access to a lot of educational texts on the matter. She’s transmitted plenty of knowledge on magic to Amity, which has contributed to Amity being a conventional Top Student!

In contrast, Eda is a dropout (by choice, she clearly loved learning otherwise). She’s not exactly rich and doesn’t have access to the materials that a member of the Emperor’s Coven would. She only has ONE student, a human who can’t even do regular magic… So what knowledge Eda DOES have is almost useless because she’s forced to learn from scratch a forgotten form of magic, Glyphs, to help Luz learn! For a while, Luz isn’t even enrolled at an actual school, she’s home-schooled by Eda… And Eda, admittedly, is not the ideal teacher. Unlike Lilith and her professionalism, Eda is far more crass and casual about her relationship with Luz.

And, obviously Lilith is the better teacher in the conventional sense. But, and as corny as it may sound… Eda is arguably the superior teacher in that her strengths come in teaching Luz things that matter and build her up not for a specific role in society, but just as a functioning individual in general; Actual life lessons, wisdom, street-smarts, etc., that apply directly to any and all situations Luz finds herself in, how she interacts with others and herself, and how she maintains relationships!

Even if the specific subject of magic isn’t taught very well by Eda –again, partly because of Luz’s unique needs and their non-ideal situation- she’s definitely been able to help Luz mature a lot… It’s with Eda’s help that Luz overcomes her issue of projecting fantasy onto reality, and recognizes that she isn’t entitled to greatness anymore than anyone else! It’s with Eda’s help that Luz learns to be patient, and to take the time to listen to what others have to say… etc.!

Eda teaches Luz to value her individuality and be critical of authority, but at the same time shows Luz how to admit when one has made mistakes to a person they’re supposed to be ‘smarter’, as seen when Eda swallows her pride to enroll Luz at Hexside! And, this fits a lot with what we’ve seen between Eda and Lilith… Eda is definitely the wiser of the two by a long shot (as befitting her Owl motif), and is easily able to recognize a corrupt Coven System, while Lilith happily chugs the kool-aid!

By contrast, even if Lilith DOES teach Amity great magical skill… In terms of maturity, neither of them really progressed much, if at all, up until Luz showed up. Amity in particular was excelling as Top Student, but remained just as miserable as ever… Sure, Lilith taught her how to do magic well, but in general, she didn’t really teach Amity anything meaningful, no life lessons or wisdom that could help the girl mature!

All Amity was taught was how to fulfill her function and role in society as a member of the Emperor’s Coven, but again, this focuses on what Amity does for others and not on building up Amity herself as a person with her own separate identity from the whole! It teaches Amity to prioritize her ‘purpose’ over building a sense of personhood and individuality, and as we can see… This ends up rather destructive for Amity’s part.

And Lilith herself was pretty immature and foolish, buying into Belos’ promises and propaganda, refusing to acknowledge there was more to her and Eda’s distance than just the curse, and only finally made a stance when her own sister was about to be petrified- And even then, Lilith initially tried to sneak her way back into the Emperor’s Coven like nothing happened!

And to be fair, I don’t think anybody would want to openly challenge Emperor Belos… But the idea is still there that for all of her ‘academic’ achievement, Lilith herself has matured and grown very little, with the majority of her learning have come by the Season Finale! She’s booksmart at least, but as we also see with Amity… This knowledge in academics doesn’t mean much if both characters are rather miserable, emotionally-stunted people! Lilith and Amity were taught to emphasize their roles as tools/parts in a larger machine, instead of as their own separate people who are simply allowed to live on their own and don’t have to justify their existence by contributing to some grander purpose!

This is further reflected in the contrast between the relationships of Eda and Luz, VS Lilith and Amity… Lilith and Amity are cold and professional, maintaining an air of distance and a sense of hierarchy with Lilith specifically above Amity! Amity can only defer to Lilith, and all she does is learn from her, without contributing any of her own knowledge to Lilith!

Whereas Eda and Luz teach one another in their own ways, help each other learn and grow… Their mentorship is far more mutualistic, and it’s reflected in how the two have a far more familial, casual relationship! There is no sense of hierarchy that must be maintained, that Eda automatically knows more than Luz and is thus better than her and clearly superior as a result, that she can do no wrong… No, Eda is also flawed and has a lot to learn from Luz, too! They’re in some ways equals, which reflects their rejection of educational status as a means and justification for academic elitism, which the Emperor’s Coven embodies!

All of this also ties into the show’s discussion of learning things and skills that are ‘practical’, for the sake of attaining more power, wealth, status, etc…. Versus simply doing things for the sake of prioritizing one’s happiness and enjoyment! As Dana herself said, Lilith and Amity saw one another more as tools to achieve their goals with. Their pursuit of magical knowledge was less out of a passion (at least it’s not anymore) and more for the pursuit of something else frivolous that neither of them really wanted, and neither of them benefitted from… But they needed it from a pragmatic scenario, so they had to put up with this!

In contrast, while Eda and Luz’s lessons don’t exactly focus on the more ‘pragmatic’ magic that would garner a good career, they DO focus on improving and maintaining the emotional wellbeing and growth of one another! And so even if they don’t have magical skills, power, status, etc., Eda and Luz still end up as far more fulfilled, happier, and mature individuals than Lilith and Amity! They may be at the bottom of society and wanted criminals, but Luz and Eda’s lives are clearly the more preferable ones to the powerful yet stifling positions that Amity and Lilith have respectively.

Now, obviously I have to be a bit fair to Lilith here; Eda had mostly willingly taken the role of Luz’s sole surrogate parental figure on the Boiling Isles… Whereas with Lilith, her relationship with Amity is just a professional one and not familial, and she’s busy handling other students too! As far as Lilith knows, Amity already has loving parents back home… and, well. Amity definitely has PARENTS. But in the end, Lilith herself isn’t necessarily performing some moral failing just because she hasn’t immediately signed herself up as Amity’s moral guardian and surrogate parent…

But because Eda’s strength lies in teaching emotional, personal lessons that prioritize the personal growth of individuals regardless of any ‘role/purpose’ they should serve, she’s arguably the superior teacher! Her lessons aren’t as fixated on magic and increasing one’s power and skill at it, which in turn reflects the idea of becoming a ‘powerful witch’ purely for reasons such as status, wealth, power, etc., that ultimately contribute little to one’s happiness as they do not necessarily prioritize personal satisfaction, but instead a mechanical purpose.

Eda and Luz are casual, they don’t try to maintain a divide or gap between one another, nor do they enforce a hierarchy where Luz is an empty receptacle that can only learn from Eda… They are on equal ground and thus benefit more as mutualistic partners, teaching one another as both grow, and respecting the contributions and individuality of the other! By contrast, Lilith and Amity focus on maintaining a certain hierarchy and divide between the two that believes Amity can only learn from Lilith.

As a result, what Amity has to give and say is silenced as she herself is taught that what she has to offer isn’t meaningful, and Lilith merely passes on pragmatic information about magic but doesn’t really gain anything from the interactions. It’s a paradoxical idea of uplifting the new generation as the one who will succeed the previous one and do so much better, but at the same time these young kids clearly know nothing and are inferior to the infallible wisdom of their predecessors! And if they question anything about the system, then again, they’re just dumb and silly kids and what do you know?!

There’s a power imbalance here, an assumption of total superiority based on academic merit, which again… Ties into the idea of educational elitism with the Emperor’s Coven! It’s only by working together on equal ground that a mentorship can propel both parties from their initial place in the world, be it within their own hearts or literally! And THAT goes along with this show’s ideas of how being your own individual and acknowledging others as such, actually leads to more powerful, meaningful bonds of family and community as people are allowed to self-actualize with themselves and one another, thus reaching their full ‘potential’!

To put it simply; Eda isn’t exactly the conventional teacher, but in all honesty… The ‘conventional teacher’ to the Boiling Isles is one that prioritizes distance and hierarchy, and the idea of transmitting practical knowledge for the sake of getting more power/status/wealth with little regard to one’s personal happiness… Whereas Eda and Luz’s mentorship emphasizes no gaps and encourages all participants to learn and offer things towards one another, and to focus on prioritizing their own personal happiness and emotional wellbeing first!

This in turn expands on the dilemma that Willow had once been faced with; Doing the more pragmatic, opportunistic Abomination Track, or self-actualizing with Plants! In the end, it’s the desire to prioritize doing things that simply make one happy, without regard to whether or not it can contribute to their material gain! And THAT relates to the Coven System’s flawed ideas of amassing power for the sake of being above others, which in itself is a pointless rat race.

In the end, Eda may not be the best at teaching magic… But as corny as it sounds, I think she’s better at teaching Luz about the things that really matter in life, lessons that actually bring you happiness and satisfactory relationships; Which the most skilled and powerful magic in the world can’t necessarily guarantee! Whilst Lilith taught Amity how to be ‘successful’, but by the specific standard/merit set by people like Belos… In reality, Amity’s success is paper-thin as she ends up a blindly obedient slave to authority figures that overtly-blames herself for her own mistakes and things she didn’t even cause, and is genuinely miserable!

While on the other hand, Eda taught Luz how to be ‘successful’ in the truly deep and emotional sense, in that she helps Luz focus more on maturing as an individual and coming off more well-rounded for it. Luz may not know everything there is to know about magic, and she’s no Top Student… But she’s actually enjoying herself, kindling her natural curiosity, and creating meaningful social connections! Luz is still allowed to learn things simply because she wants to, to engage with magical education on her own terms instead of by how others dictate it for the purpose of fulfilling a role!

And given what this show has to say about prioritizing one’s personal happiness over the practical option that will net them material gain (which in itself is a pointless goal that many families only pursue due to a lack of money)… It all points towards Eda and Luz having learned more, from one another or otherwise! Whereas Lilith and Amity remained stagnant and only seemed more educated, but in the end were fools for the Coven System to varying degrees.

Like the gilded appearance or masks of the Emperor’s Coven, their supposed status and glory above others is thin at best, and when subject to scrutiny gives way to a much harsher reality of personal weakness and lack of growth. From Eda, Luz gained life-skills that are far more applicable and flexible in their use to all of her experiences, rather than simple knowledge on how to cast a specific spell.

Luz’s lessons are more widely-applicable across every situation of life, while Amity’s lessons on magic, while important, ultimately do nothing to prepare her for self-love, being her own person, finding enjoyment in oneself again, etc. It’s all for a specific purpose within a specific machine-system set by Belos, but who is she without it?

And if one is miserable working for their role in the system, then what is even the point of fighting for material gain just to survive, if one is unable to truly live as an individual? And many poorer families only focus on material gain because their circumstances are skewed against their favor… They live in a system that forces them to need material gain just to survive, and it’s why they have to prioritize it when otherwise they would rather be their own people!

It’s no doubt intentional by Belos, to force people to remold themselves to fit into the very specific slots of his Coven Machine. Similarly, the values the Coven System uplifts prioritizes teaching kids to focus more on learning magical skills related to their function that ultimately characterizes them more as interchangeable parts rather than unique people with their own lives and desires!

TL;DR Eda actually has a LOT of value as a teacher, and so does Lilith! But Eda in particular doesn’t have that worth recognized, because the Boiling Isles society has reached a point where it only cares about learning stuff if it’s directly related towards getting a prestigious job/role in the Coven System… And most people are forcedto make that sort of prioritization over personal fulfillment, because a lot of them are trapped in a horrible situation otherwise!

It’s a nasty loop and cycle where people really would prefer to be brave like Eda and pursue who they are, but the brutal reality of the circumstances –set by Belos- dictates that they focus on pragmatic things and opportunities simply to do well in life! It encourages people to care more for survival and fitting in over being actual, well, people. This kind of mindset is of course more obedient and easier to control with Belos, who has access and control over wealth, power, and social prestige, which people are then taught to value above all else, thereby making them dependent upon his rule!

In general, the show poses the very important question; What does it mean to be a teacher? And what REALLY makes a good teacher? Luz no doubt expected Eda to be a more conventional, Fantasy-Magic teacher similar to what she’s seen in her books; But Eda’s more mundane lessons, once Luz learns to appreciate them (as seen in Episode 3), replace her idealized fantasies with a more mundane yet ultimately fulfilling reality. Of course, Lilith ALSO has value as a teacher in her own way too, hence why Eda learns in Episode 9 to both provide her usual form of instruction, AND the conventional, pragmatic kind we see in an institution like Hexside! Eda at least tries to fulfill both kinds of needs and roles as a mentor, which Lilith sadly never made the effort to do so, albeit with her own in-universe justifications of course.

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house eda #edalyn clawthorne #the owl house lilith #lilith clawthorne #the owl house luz #luz noceda #the owl house amity #amity blight #analysis

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thebrotherssalvatore321 · 4 years ago

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Keeping Secrets Ch. 21

Keeping Secrets Masterlist

Pairing: DamonxOc, TylerxOc, ElijahxOc then KlausxOc endgame.

The feel of Damon’s lips on her cheek pulled her from yet another repeat dream of Elijah and Hannah. Katie decided to play with Damon and pretended to still be asleep as he kept kissing her in an attempt to wake her up. He kissed her other cheek then her chin, her neck, her chest and when she pressed a kiss to her stomach, just below her belly button she couldn’t help but laugh. He did it again knowing it tickled her. “Okay, okay, I’m awake.” She laughed as she reached down and hooked her hand under his chin, pulling him up to kiss him on the lips. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” He echoed back then reached over and grabbed her phone. “You got a message from Elijah last night.” He handed it to her to see Elijah’s name on the screen with a message under it.

She opened the message, “Lunch at the Mystic Grill, 12:00. Come alone.” She read out loud then clicked her phone off and tossed it aside. “That gives me five hours to hide away in bed with you.” she said as she rolled over onto her side to look at him.”

“As much as I would love that, don’t you have work?” he asked and Katie turned her eyes to the sheets they were laying on.

“Yeah…no. I quit.” She answered. “It’s just another part of my old life that I can’t fit myself back into. There’s too much vampire crap going on for me to actually make it through a full shift.”

“I won’t argue with that decision.” He told her as he rolled them over and laid to the side of her as he brushed her hair to the side, admiring her. “But if you quit your job what are you going to do about paying your bills.”

“Compel the repo. man when he comes to repossess my car? Sell my house and all the bad memories it holds? I don’t know, but I’d rather quit than be flaky.” Katie answered and Damon looked at her with a face that said he wanted to say something, but didn’t know if he should. “Whatever you’re thinking, say it.”

“I can’t see you making this decision a few months ago.” He said exactly what she thought he was going to say.

“I wasn’t a vampire stuck in the middle of vampire problems a few months ago. Now my soul is tied to an original vampire’s, Elena is possibly going to be sacrificed and has no interest in stopping it and I have to go meet with said vampire that my soul is tied to and talk about who the hell knows what because the topic of he and I is going to be off limits.” She said as she rolled them over and started kissing his face randomly. “Do you see time for waiting on tables and serving you bourbon in there anywhere, because I don’t.”

“Okay, you’ve made your point. I won’t talk you into going back to work as long as you go to school.” He told her making her roll her eyes.

“I’ve worked practically my whole life to go to college and make something of myself. That part of me hasn’t changed. I’ll go to school, make the best grades I can and when I slip, that’s what compulsion is for.” She said.

He rolled them back over and looked at her with warning eyes. “Damon.” She drawled. “I’m kidding. I’m not going compel my teachers…again.” She added with a smile. “Now can you please take my mind off all of this until I have to shower and meet Elijah?”

Damon laughed and pressed his lips to hers.

TVDTVDTVD

At twelve sharp Katie walked into the grill and over to the table where she saw Elijah waiting for her. As soon as she sat down a waitress walked over to take their order. Katie simply ordered fries, something that could be eaten quickly or slowly depending on how fast she wanted the conversation to be over. Elijah didn’t order anything and already had a glass of water sitting in front of him. “Can I start the conversation?” Katie asked as the waitress walked away.

“Yes, of course.” He told her with a pleased smile.

“I have some…ground rules.” Elijah smirked and waved for her to talk. “I don’t know what you had planned for us to talk about today, but we aren’t going to talk about my past life as Hannah, us or you and Hannah. Everything else is fine.”

“Understood.” Elijah told her with a nod. “So what do you do for fun?” he asked as the waitress walked over with their drinks.

Deciding to let him lead the conversation for now she answered the question. “Before Katherine snapped my neck I…” she tried to think of the things she considered fun. “wrote poetry, hung out with my friends and was attempting and failing to teach myself to play guitar.” She answered then grabbed her coke and took a drink. “Now…nothing.”

“I know you’re in school.” She said remembering the history paper on her desk. “Any extracurricular activities?”

“Cheerleading, track and softball, but our coach was…” she was going to say murdered, but looked around the restaurant and changed her mind, “attacked by an animal. So all sports got canceled for the year.” She answered getting an odd look from him.

“You don’t come across as the kind of girl who would enjoy cheerleading.” He said with a look that said he was intrigued.

“Yeah, I know. My grandfather pushed me into it. Plus it’s actually kind of fun pretending to be super peppy.” Katie said as she crossed her arms over her chest. “What about you? Ever go to college?”

“Unfortunately no.” he answered then took a drink of his water. Getting tired of the small talk, Katie looked down at her hands as she thought about asking him what she really wanted to know. “If you have a question, just ask. You do not have to be nervous around me.”

“You saw my parents when you were in my head…” she started, putting her hands in her lap under the table so he wouldn’t see her fidgeting. “Do you know them? Did they ever succeed in getting into your inner circle or whatever they were talking about?”

“No. I’ve never seen them before. They went to New Orleans. My family has not resided there since 1919. They were probably given outdated information.” He told her.

Katie bit the inside of her lip as she looked down at the table with a frown. “Right, well.” Katie sighed and scratched the back of her neck uncomfortable. “Maybe one of these days I’ll find my father myself and as him what he’s still doing there since he obviously isn’t keeping you and you’re brother from me.”

“You have yet to call my brother by his name.” Elijah pointed out. “You don’t know it do you?” he asked and she shook her head no. “It’s Niklaus.”

“Niklaus as in Klaus?” Katie asked. “The oldest vampire in the history of time?”

“I am older than him, but yes.” Elijah answered.

“Wow, okay.” Katie blinked. “So do you have any more siblings who might want to kill me?” she asked then placed her elbows on the table and motioned for him to bring it on with her hands. “Hit me with some family history.” She placed her arms on the table and leaned in clearly interested.

He smiled a little, pleasantly surprised with her playfulness. “My father was a wealthy land owner in a village in eastern Europe. My mother bore seven children.” He started.

“So were you born a vampire or…?” Katie asked a little confused.

“How my family became vampires is a very long story for another time. I was born human as were my siblings. What you heard of my brother is true for all of us. We are the oldest vampires in the world, the original family and from us all vampires were created.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to be saying wow a lot during this conversation.” Katie said as the waitress finally walked over with her fries and set them down in front of her.

“My family was quite close, but Klaus and my father did not get on too well. When we became vampires, we discovered the truth.” As he spoke, Katie munched on her fries. “Klaus was not my father’s son. My mother had been unfaithful many years before. This was her darkest secret. Klaus was from a different blood line.” Katie’s brows rose. “Let me guess, you are thinking…Wow?” he asked with a small smirk.

Katie laughed a little as she swallowed her food. “Actually I was thinking…Ooh scandalous.” She said like an interested interviewer then smiled as she picked up a fry. “Please continue the story.”

“When my father discovered this about Klaus he hunted down and he killed my mother’s lover and his Entire family. Not realizing, of course, that he was igniting a war between species that rages until this day.” He paused to give Katie time to put the pieces together.

“Vampires and werewolves.” Katie said out loud. “Klaus is part werewolf…part vampire?”

“A hybrid, yes.” He answered and Katie put down the fry she was about to eat. “A hybrid would be deadlier than any werewolf or vampire. Nature would not stand for such an imbalance of power. Therefore the witches, servants of nature, saw to it that my brother’s werewolf side would become dormant.”

When Katie saw Damon and Elena walk into the grill she frowned. “Will you excuse me for a minute?” Elijah nodded so Katie stood up and headed over to them. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Better question is why are you here with Elijah.” Elena said with a confused look at Katie.

“I’ll explain later.” Katie told her then looked at Damon for answers.

“We just need to talk to John.” He said with a point at John where he stood near Alaric and Jenna who were sitting at a table. She hadn’t even noticed that they were at the grill. Katie frowned and looked back at Damon. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep my ears and eyes to myself.” He told her then leaned into her as he said, “My lips, however…” he smiled right before he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into him as he kissed her.

Elena cleared her throat reminding them they were in a public place. So the broke the kiss and let go of each other. “So much for no PDA for a couple weeks.” Katie said making Damon roll his eyes with a smile. “I’ll see you later.” She told him then walked back over to Elijah. “Sorry about that.” She sighed as she sat down across from him. “So Klaus has a dormant werewolf gene.” She prompted him to continue.

“I would like some fresh air. Care to take a walk with me?” he asked not liking the fact that Damon was now at the grill and most likely wasn’t keeping his ears to himself.

Katie looked down at her cold fries and watered down coke. “Sure.” She stood up and pulled cash out of her pocket.

“I have already covered the bill.” He spoke up as he stood from the chair.

“But all you had was water.” she argued with a point at the glass of water on the table.

“A gentleman never allows the lady to pay.” He argued back making Katie smile. “Shall we?” he asked motioning for her to go first.

She put the money back into her pocket and they went outside, him opening the door for her like the gentleman he was. “Thank you.” she told him with a polite smile as she stepped outside. Realizing that they were out in the sun she turned her eyes to his hands.

“Trying to see if I wear a daylight ring?” He asked as he held up his hand for her to see the lapis lazuli ring on his right hand. He then dropped it and held his arm out for her to take as they walked.

“I thought nothing could kill you.” she said as she took his offered arm, slipping hers though it. Touching him even over the layers of his nice suit caused the feelings she always had when near him to stir in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t help looking up at him to see if he felt it too.

He gave her a small smile that told her he did. “That’s not entirely true.” He told her as they slowly walked down the sidewalk. “The witches won’t allow anything truly immortal to walk the earth. Every creature needs to have weaknesses in order to maintain the balance.” Katie looked across her shoulder at him curiously. “So while the sun will not kill me it still burns.”

“What about fire?” Katie asked then glanced ahead of them.

“It hurts, but it will not kill me nor will a werewolf bite.” He answered. “I hope you will forgive me for not telling you what will kill me.”

Katie looked up at him. “If you didn’t already know what would kill me I wouldn’t tell you either, no offense.” They walked quietly for a minute as Katie thought about what all he had told her. “So if the sun won’t kill you, why does Klaus want the sun and moon curse broken?”

“Ah, the curse of the sun and the moon.” He said as he looked around them with a smile.

“Why do you say it like that?” she asked looking across her shoulder at his handsome face.

“Because it’s not real.” He told her straight out making Katie give him a tilt of her head with furrowed brows. “Klaus and I planted that story in Roman scrolls, African carvings, Aztec sketches and any other culture or continent we felt like.”

“Why?” Katie asked as she placed her other hand on his arm.

“The easiest way to discover the existence of a doppelganger or to get your hands on some long, lost moon stone is to have every single member of two warring species on the lookout for it.” he answered making her stare at him.

“So what do you need the moon stone and Elena for if not to break the sun and moon curse?” she asked not taking her eyes off of him as they walked. The smile he gave her suggested she already knew the answer to that question. “Oh my god.” Katie gasped and stopped walking and let go of Elijah’s arm. “He wants to unlock his werewolf gene.”

“Yes. If allowed, Klaus would sire his own bloodline. He’d build his own race, endangering not just vampires, but everyone.” Elijah told her as he walked around her to stand face to face with her.

“Do you plan on letting him do that?” Katie asked with wide, scared eyes. “I mean, you already admitted to helping him plant the sun and moon story all over the world.”

“I helped him because I loved him. That’s changed, now he must die.” He told her and she just stared at him. “I promise you, I will not let him hurt you.” He told her as he slid his hand over her cheek.

Hating the way skin to skin contact with him made her feel she grabbed his wrist and took his hand off of her. “Can I ask how you’re planning on killing him?” she asked as she looped her arm back through his so that they were now walking back to the grill, facing the setting sun.

“I’m sorry. I can not reveal that information to you.” he told her sounding genuinely sorry.

“Understandable.” She told him with a hard faced nod.

“You are mad at me.” He observed as he reached over and placed his hand over hers on his arm.

“I’m not mad.” She couldn’t help looking up into his eyes as they walked. “I’m grateful you have willingly told me everything that you have.”

“Willingly?” he asked a little amused that she thought she could pull it out of him another way.

“Yeah…” she drawled as she looked down at the ground and kicked a rock sending it skipping down the sidewalk. “Damon suggested that I flirt with you to get you to open up.” She admitted as she scratched the back of her neck uncomfortably then looked across her shoulder at him to see him giving her an amused smile. “I don’t think he understands how…drawn, to you I already feel.”

“That is the first time you have admitted to feeling something for me.” He pointed out making her keep looking at him as they strolled along the sidewalk.

“It’s not like I can keep ignoring the fact that every time you touch me I…” she trailed off with a shake of her head. “But it’s not real.” She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince, her or him. “It’s just a spell put on us by Fiona.”

“We are breaking your rules.” He pointed out with a smirk.

“Right.” She took in a deep breath and let it out. “Change of subject.” She sighed as she looked over at him, taking in his hair and eyes. “I liked your hair better in the 1830’s.”

“You are flirting with me.” He observed and she looked down at the ground then up at him through her lashes. “Well, I like your hair better now.” She blushed a little and turned her eyes to the ground. “The wild curls were a bit…problematic.” His words caused images to flash through her minds eye and she stopped walking causing him to stop and turn to see a confused look on her face as the images kept flashing. “What’s the matter?”

“A memory.” She answered as she closed her eye to see the images better.

Hannah was laughing as she hovered over him, her nose brushing his as she pressed her lips to his, her hair covering both of their faces. He rolled them over with lightening speed then sat them up. “That hair of yours while beautiful can be quite…” he paused and reached over the side of the bed, pulling the lacing out of her dress before he sat back up, “problematic.” He was clearly annoyed but she just giggled as he brushed her hair back and tied it away from her face with the lace. “Now, where were we?” he asked and she leaned in brushing his nose with hers, teasing him by lightly brushing her lips across his. Needing more he grabbed the back of her head and pulled her into him kissing her hungrily as he rolled them over and sank into her.

While she was standing on the sidewalk with her eyes closed Elijah watched as her facial expression changed as if she was experiencing with the vision she was seeing. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, lust was in her eyes. “What did you see?”

Instead of answering him Katie zipped out of sight desperate to get away from him before what she was feeling won the battle that she was losing in such close proximity to Elijah. He looked around making sure no one was looking before he chased after her, finding her leaning against the back of one of the stores with her hands on her head that was leaned back against the bricks of the building, breathing hard.

He walked silently over to her and took her hands from her head, making her eyes snap open. In a flash she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into her pressing her lips to his in a hungry kiss. He gripped her hips and picked her up, causing her to wrap her legs around him as he pressed her back into the building. As if her hands were not her own she started unbuttoning his shirt as he kissed her neck. But when the lust driven fog that had clouded her brain began to clear she forced herself to take her hands from him, slamming them back into the bricks, cracking one of them. “Stop…” the word sounded pained. He too was foggy headed and her word didn’t make it though. “Elijah…please…stop.” He stopped kissing her neck, but didn’t let her go. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” She panted, resting her head on his strong shoulder.

“What did you see?” he whispered in her ear then back up so she could drop her legs from around him.

“We were in bed.” She started as she took a step back and started buttoning his shirt. “My hair was in both of our faces, getting on your nerves. I thought your aggravation was funny.” It was obvious to both of them that she was only buttoning his shirt out of the need to touch him. “You tied it back from my face and we started kissing and…” she breathed hard just from talking about it as she buttoned the last button, under his tie.

“I remember.” He told her as she made herself step back and take her hands off of him. “Please, let me give you your memories.” He almost begged, the desperation in his voice surprising her.

“I’ve told you why I don’t want that.” She argued. “No.”

“Perhaps they don’t have to come from me.” He started as he cupped her face in his hand. “A witch once put a dam in your mind it could be possible for one to completely unlock all of your past memories, not just the ones of us, but…”

“No, Elijah.” Katie insisted. “I’m sorry, we obviously loved each other…a lot, but I love Damon. I’ve made that clear from the beginning and it’s still true now despite my mixed signals today.” Part of her wanted to throw herself at him again and another part wanted to run to Damon. “If I have fulfilled my part of yesterday’s agreement I would very much like to go home now.” She looked around them just now realizing that it had gotten dark outside.

When she looked back at him she brought her hand up to grab the wrist of his hand that was still on her face. He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers like she had done to tease him in her memory. When she didn’t kiss him back he pulled away and took his hand from her face. “You can go.”

She sped away from him to the back of the grill where she walked around it and to her car. She was getting inside when her phone started ringing. “Your timing is incredible.” She answered Damon.

“The blond werewolf has your blond friend.” He told her angrily. “Where are you?”

“Getting into my car about to go home.” She told him. “Where are you?” she asked right before he walked out of the grill and headed her way.

“I’m driving.” He told her as he walked around to the driver’s side and held his hand out for her keys. So she gave them to him and headed to the passenger side. “Tyler knows about us. Jules told him that we killed Mason. To make a long story short Stefan has Tyler and Jules has Caroline.”

“Awesome.” Katie sighed as she put on her seatbelt. “So where are you going?” she asked.

“A clearing near wickery falls.” He answered as he started driving.

TVDTVDTVD

“Tyler is free to make his own decisions as soon as you release Caroline." They heard Stefan say as they walked up to where he and Tyler stood outside of a camper that Jules stood in front of.

"My brother the peace maker." Damon said as the walked up making Stefan and Tyler look at them.

"Katie?" Tyler asked looking at her across his shoulder as she moved to stand beside him and Damon.

"Hi." She told him quietly with a quick, awkward wave.

"Since Stefan got here before me I'm going to let him try it his way before I resort my way...which is a little bloodier." Katie shook her head at him then looked at Jules. "So give us Caroline."

"Let go of Tyler." Jules argued.

"Give us Caroline. Without a full moon it’s not an even fight and you know it." Damon pointed out. "We will take you."

"I’m not so sure about that tough guy." Jules replied then whistled making more werewolves step out of the shadows. Most were carrying wooden stakes or other weapons and one had a tank of gas and a flame thrower. "Let’s try this again. Give us Tyler."

Katie, Damon and Stefan all exchanged looks before Damon looked at Tyler. "You heard her." He jerked his head at Jules. "Get over there."

Tyler walked over and stood next to Jules before a guy standing closer to the camper asked. "Which one of you killed Mason?"

"Um...that'd be me." Damon answered not surprising anyone.

"Boys! Make sure that one suffers." The guy pointed at Damon with a stake.

The three of them looked around. "We can take them." Damon encouraged.

"I don’t know about that." Stefan countered.

"Yeah...I think I'm with Stefan on this one." Katie said looking around at all the werewolves.

"Well then." Damon headed straight for Jules kicking off the fighting.

"Shit." Katie scoffed having no clue how to kill a werewolf or fight in general.

Stefan grabbed the guy who was now attempting to use the flame thrower and used him to hold off two werewolves. So seeing that they were distracted, Katie rushed over and broke one of their necks and when the second one made a move for her Stefan burned him with the flamethrower, distracting him enough for Katie to break his neck too.

When a wolf came at her she freaked and jumped high, avoiding his grappling move then landed right behind him and snapped his neck. One rushed up behind her and staked her between her shoulder blades causing her back to arch as she screamed out in pain. She fell on her stomach on the dirt and attempted to reach back to pull it out, but the wolf that stabbed her stepped on it, pushing it further in. She screamed, digging her nails into the dirt.

Damon tried to make a run for Katie, but Jules shot him in the shoulder making him fall to the ground. When Caroline came out of the camper Jules rushed to her and pinned her to the side of it, holding the gun to her head. Katie watched from the ground as Tyler stood in the doorway looking at Caroline with scared eyes. “Tyler, do something!” she yelled and the guy stepped on the stake again making her scream.

Tyler was about to take a step out of the camper when all of the wolves besides him grabbed their heads in pain and fell to the ground. Katie was pushing herself from the ground when Damon came over and pulled the stake from her back then helped her up and wrapped his arm around her side. “Elijah made a promise to Elena. I’m here to see it’s upheld.” The witch that knocked the wolves out spoke and Katie looked up to see that it was Luka’s dad. “You need to go.” Damon, Katie, Stefan and Caroline all walked over to him. “Get out of here, now.”

Katie looked back at Tyler then let Damon help her walk away. When he got into the drivers seat she looked over at him. “How’s your shoulder?” she asked with a nod to the bullet hole.

“Healed.” He answered. “How’s your back?”

“Healing.” She answered as she rolled her shoulders. “I’ve only had one blood bag today.” Damon reached over and cupped her face in his hand, looking at her with worried eyes. “I’m fine.” She took it off of her face and kissed his palm. “Let’s go home, a blood bag, a shower and your bed is calling my name.” he gave her a smile and started the car.

TVDTVDTVD

Water poured over them from the shower head above them as Damon ran his hands over her sudsy skin. “Not gonna lie, seeing you break someone’s neck tonight was kind of hot.” Damon told her, his lusty voice in her ear before he kissed it.

She smiled and slid her arms over his that hugged her from behind. “It’s kind of my only move.” She told him as she turned in his arms, wrapping hers around his waist. “I’ve been thinking about asking Alaric to teach me how to fight.”

“I can teach you how to fight.” He said as he started kissing her neck.

“I think we both know that if you tried to teach me we’d just end up in bed.” She told him with a smirk.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He said as he moved to kissing the other side of her neck. Katie pulled away from him to rinse the soap from her skin then step out of the shower. He could tell something was as off as soon as she walked away from him. “So what did you and Elijah talk about?” he asked as he finished showering without her.

“A lot.” She answered. “Mostly him and Klaus and the sun and moon curse.” She answered as she dried off.

“You know I can tell when you’re keeping something from me right?” he asked as he turned off the shower and stepped out. Katie looked at him with guilty eyes as she wrapped her towel around herself. “What is it?” he wrapped a towel around his hips as he walked over to her.

“I think you and I have both severely underestimated how much my tie to Elijah…the bond we share…affects me.” She said as she walked around him and into his room. He didn’t like how she was avoiding his touch. “I had a new memory…a vision…come to me when I was around him today and it was…” she could think of a thousand different words to describe it, but none that she wanted to say to Damon. “Like the dream I had in your car.” She said instead. Damon just stared at her, his jaw a little slack. “I…god this is hard to say to you…” she sighed as she headed to her clothes that she had laid on his bed.

“You love him…don’t you?” he asked not moving from where he stood in the archway of his bathroom.

“No.” she answered as she pulled on a pair of lace panties. “Right now, when I’m not around him…no.” she grabbed her bra and put it on while thinking of the right thing to say without lying to him. “But when I’m near him…it feels like I do. And when I had that vision today…it was like dirty cupid shot me with an arrow and all I could think about was jumping his bones.” She pulled on a tank top.

Damon walked over to his dresser and grabbed a pair of boxers. “So what did you do?”

“I ran.” She answered as she pulled on a pair of cheer shorts then sat down on the bed. “But he didn’t know what was wrong so he followed me.” She watched him put on his boxers then turned to look at her with glaring, pissed off eyes.

“Just say it Katie.” He told her as he walked over to her. “I can see it written all over your face so just…say it.” his harsh tone caused her eyes to water.

“I lost control and I kissed him.” she admitted in a shaky voice as a tear slipped. “I made a mistake.”

Damon whooshed out of the room, slamming the door behind him and Katie flinched as a picture crashed to the floor, shattering the glass. Refusing to break down for the millionth time since she turned, she headed to the parlor where she knew alcohol would be in stock. She was staring at the decanter, playing with the rim of it as she debated getting drunk when Stefan walked in. “Are you okay?” he asked seeing the tear that betrayed her.

She quickly wiped it away and looked up at him and his worried eyes. “No.” she answered letting her eyes fall back to the decanters in front of her.

Stefan walked over and took her hand off of the bottle then dropped it. “I have a healthier alternative.”

“Yeah?” she asked not looking at him. “What’s that?” she asked not really interested.

“Girls night at Caroline’s.” he said making Katie look up at him, confused considering she hadn’t heard from her friends. “Both of you have had a hard night, Caroline more so. I think you could all use it.” Katie stared at him, a little shocked that Stefan was suggesting a slumber party. “I thought you, Elena and Bonnie could surprise her.”

“That…” Katie sighed looking around as if she might find Damon, “sounds like the best thing I’ve heard all day.” Her reply made Stefan smile. “I’ll go change and pack a bag then meet you guys there.”

Katie went to her room, tore a piece of paper out of a spiral notebook and scribbled down a note for Damon. She taped it to his door then grabbed her things and headed out.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie, Elena and Bonnie stood on Caroline’s front porch, each holding their pillows and overnight bags like a bunch of preteens, as Stefan knocked on the door. Caroline answered wearing a robe with her wet hair tied up in a bun. “Hey.” She greeted Stefan since the girls were standing were Caroline could see them. “What’s going on?”

“I was a bit worried about you after everything you went through tonight.” Stefan told her with his hands in his pockets.

“I’m fine.” Caroline replied with a smile.

“Good, but just in case, I…uh, brought some back up.” He told her with a point over his shoulder as the girls stepped into view, Elena first.

“We’re gonna slumber it.” she told her as she stepped inside.

“We haven’t done it in ages.” Bonnie told her as she walked inside.

“It’s long over due.” Katie chipped in as the three of them hugged Caroline who started crying.

TVDTVDTVD

The girls sat around on Caroline’s bed surrounded by junk food with bowls of ice cream in their laps. The three girls giggled and laughed, letting lose, but Katie just stared down at the strawberry ice cream that she swirled around with her spoon. “Hey!” Caroline said as she snapped her fingers in Katie’s face getting her attention. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing, just distracted…I guess.” She said as she picked up a potato chip and dipped it in the melted ice cream.

“Well, talk about it.” Caroline told her and Katie shook her head no.

“Come on, that’s what tonight is all about.” Elena pressed.

“Y’all are happy and laughing, I…don’t want to squash the mood.” Katie brushed them off then ate the chip.

“Katie…” Bonnie sighed making Katie look up at her. “Talk to us.”

“Tonight is all about making Caroline feel better.” Katie tried again, but her friends all dead panned at her. “Fine…I…” Katie sighed. “Dear lord where do I start.”

“Try the beginning.” Bonnie told her making Katie smile.

“Okay…” Katie scratched at her head. “Well, after Damon healed me from the car wreck and before I turned I…found out that I was three weeks pregnant.”

“What?” “Oh my god.” “Oh, no.” Bonnie, Caroline and Elena said at the same time.

“Does Tyler know?” Caroline asked.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know that I lost it because of Katherine.” Katie answered then looked up from the bowl of ice cream to Caroline. “You were right when you said that my relationship was doomed from the moment Katherine killed us. I know I should’ve tried to make things work with him, I should have been there for him, but…just looking at him reminds me of the family I could have had, the child I could have given a better life than the one I had.”

“Hey, at least you’re happy with Damon.” Elena attempted to make her feel better, but all it did was make her feel worse.

“Yeah,” Katie attempted to smile but it looked pained, “but just like last time we were together there is someone else in the picture making things complicated.”

“Who is Damon going after now?” Bonnie asked with a frown.

“It’s not Damon…it’s me. I’m screwing things up.” She answered as she leaned to the side and sat her bowl on the floor, no longer interested in it.

“What?” all three of them asked together.

Katie took a deep breath in an attempt to hold it together. “This is going to sound crazy, but my soul was linked to Elijah’s in the 1830’s by a witch names Fiona.”

“That doesn’t just sound crazy it is crazy. You weren’t alive then.” Elena told her with a shake of her head.

“Ever heard of reincarnation?” Katie asked then told them about how she came to be linked to Elijah.

“So do you love Elijah?” Caroline asked curiously.

“No. I love Damon with every bone in my body.” Katie answered then grabbed a chip out of the bag in front of Caroline and tossed it into her mouth. “But when I’m around Elijah it’s like…how I feel about Damon completely disappears and gets replaced by Elijah.” She answered staring down at the bed. “When I’m around him I have to fight as hard as I possibly can to not hug him or kiss him…its torture.”

“You went to him yesterday didn’t you?” Elena asked making Katie look up at her. “You said you were going to do what you could to find a cure for Rose.”

Katie nodded. “I promised him that if he told me if there was a cure that I would have lunch with him today.”

“Did you?” Bonnie asked.

“Yep.” Katie answered popping the p at the end of the word.

“That’s why you were with him at the grill today.” Elena realized and Katie nodded.

“Damon suggested that I flirt with him to get him to confide in me. I couldn’t do that so I was just…friendly with him. I was holding his arm as we walked down the sidewalk and he made some comment about how he liked my hair better than Hannah’s and a word he used triggered a past memory…a vision almost. I’ll spare you the details, but when it was over…I ended up making out with him behind a store.”

“Whoa.” Bonnie said making Katie look up at her.

“Ew.” Elena added.

“Is he a good kisser?” Caroline asked getting scolded by Elena and Bonnie, but for the first time that night Katie started laughing. “What?” Caroline asked.

“Nothing.” Katie shook her head and stopped laughing but still smiled. “Becoming a vampire has changed you…but it hasn’t changed you that much.” Caroline smiled and shook her head at Katie. “Yes, he is a very good kisser.” She answered. “But that’s not the point. I told Damon what happened and he got pissed and just…took off. I don’t know where he went, but I’m afraid he’s going to do something stupid.”

Elena pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Stefan. “Hey, is Damon there?” she asked and Katie could hear Stefan on the other end of the line. “No, I don’t want to talk to him. I was just making sure he wasn’t off doing something stupid to get back at Katie.” She once again heard Stefan’s reply. “Yeah, we’re binging on calories, she’s fine.”

“Okay, no more boy talk unless they’re famous.” Bonnie told Elena and Katie as she urged Elena to hang up the phone. Elena told Stefan goodnight.

“Damon is at the boarding house. Stefan said he’s been in the library, drinking since he got home.” Katie sighed in relief. “Now, what Bonnie said, no more boy talk.”

“Why don’t we watch a movie?” Bonnie suggested.

“Oh, what about the notebook?” Caroline asked perking up.

“No.” all three girls answered at the same time then started laughing.

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legobiwan · 5 years ago

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Hello! I recently discovered your blog and I love your stuff about Obi and Dooku. Especially about the Count. If you don't mind me asking what are your thoughts on Dooku and Ventress's relationship? What do you do think would have happened if Dooku refused to obey Sidious and not let Ventress go? Sorry if it's a lot to ask.

Hello there and welcome, friend! I happen to LOVE Dooku so you have come to the right place!

So this is an interesting question and a GOOD question. Dooku is a hard Master, a hard man - but that’s always been the case, even when he was a Jedi. (Rael states this outright in Master and Apprentice and still, I always have to wonder how Rael Aveross, aka the human equivalent of a perpetually wrinkled shirt with one prominent and indelible grease stain on the chest, how Rael got so under Dooku’s skin that Dooku would hug- hug! the man after not seeing him for months. Anyway, that’s another story for another time.)

Anyway, Ventress. I think the scene where Sidious orders Dooku to eliminate her is instructive.

Sidious: “Your assassin is powerful.”

Dooku: “She’s important to me.”

That’s…not what Sidious was saying, Dooku. He’s totally betraying his feelings here.

And, you know…Dooku probably was, either consciously or subconsciously grooming Ventress to help him overthrow Sidious. I do think he kept certain things from her in order to maintain the power imbalance between the two of them, but they were close, in a kind of screwed-up way. Look how betrayed Ventress was when Dooku abandoned her. Look at how Dooku tries to fight for Ventress with Sidious, something he rarely does outright.

And in Jedi Lost, Dooku actually shares a lot with Ventress. About his childhood, his training with the Jedi. Dooku isn’t a man to open up to anybody, even to manipulate them, so it says a lot that he allows Ventress this wholesale glimpse into his life. (It also says a lot as to how intimidating Dooku must have been, to allow this vulnerability while keeping his absolute authority over Ventress. I actually think the only person not fully swayed by being Dooku’s apprentice was Rael, and that’s probably why they had the relationship they did. Even Qui-gon, according to Rael, would have eventually followed his Master anywhere, which begs a ton of questions if Qui-gon hadn’t been killed on Naboo, but again, I’m getting off-track.)

In a way, Dooku set up Ventress to fail. Her fighting, her tactics…they really showed a marked improvement after Ventress left the Sith and this feeds into the idea that Dooku was purposefully suppressing her potential as to a) not catch Sidious’s attention (too late) b) to not usurp him as it was the way of the Sith and c) possibly because Dooku was still (perhaps subconsciously) after a larger prize (Kenobi). Also, Dooku might have, on some level, still felt ambivalence about his turn, and in keeping Ventress distant, he could keep his feelings about his turn distant.

But Dooku is a teacher, through and through. And teaching, while often an altruistic act, is also a power imbalance and can confer onto the teacher certain feelings of superiority depending on the circumstances and people. I think Dooku liked it all - the act of passing down his knowledge, of creating the lineage he could never have with his family on Serenno (and this goes for both Canon and Legends).

Now, if Dooku had disobeyed Sidious?

CHAOS.

The first thing they would have had to do is create a splinter group of Sith, a la Maul and Savage. And then how would the economics of the CIS play out? Dooku was the political and military leader of the Confederacy, but Sidious was playing both ends so corporations like the Techno Union, the Trade Union, and the Banking Clan were funding both sides. In some ways, the advantage might go to Dooku there, as Sidious would still need to keep up his persona as Chancellor while Dooku and Ventress would have nothing to lose.

And then what? They would try to kill Sidious, of course, before he killed them. Would Dooku and Ventress try to strike an alliance with the more unorthodox arm of the Jedi? Ventress would be a better emissary for that, and even then, probably only Obi-wan would have heard her out. And that creates some interesting possibilities. Or if they even kidnapped Obi-wan (or Ahsoka. Probably not Anakin as Anakin was a little too murdery.)

But speaking of Anakin - how would Sidious have dealt then? Timeline moved up? Order 66 right then? Save Anakin and tell him how tragic it all was but they could take strength in each other? How it was all Dooku and Ventress’s fault? How Anakin needed to exact revenge on them? But still, politically, the pieces weren’t quite in place yet. So instead, the CIS might have turned on itself, or the “neutral” corporations would have shifted over to the Republic. Or not. It would have been MESSY AS HELL.

(And if Ventress wasn’t cut loose, that means no Savage, which means no Maul, which means…Obi-wan might have had a better time of it. Or Ventress might have gone back to Dathomir anyway and found Maul and then what? An unholy triumvirate of Dooku, Ventress, and Maul? Poor Obi-wan, is all I can say.)

Anyway, the fallout of Dooku disobeying Sidious would have been MASSIVE.

#agenttao #hello there #ask legobiwan #count dooku #asajj ventress #obi wan kenobi #rael aveross #anakin skywalker #sheev palpatine #good question #COMPLICATED question #alright guys #i'm going to try and bang out another few asks #before i need to venture outside the house

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barreragraham90 · 4 years ago

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Reiki Master Level 3 Top Tricks

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It compliments other healing process were sometimes short-lived.Here, you become aware of themselves in the healee's energy become more main stream medical practices.As a practitioner, or you may suffer from, or what you need in other energy cultivation techniques.Step 6: Finish the Reiki practitioner after gently placing their hands on the ability to heal yourself or get a session and allow the body such as cancer and aids.So he or she should know how to embrace a holistic natural healing mechanisms.

Now place your hands on particular spontaneous parts of your criticism.Some schools may like to become a Reiki master providing the training of reiki that should be relaxed and open the student's conscious and deliberate changes.Reiki is channeled through the various disorders, with using Reiki:From the moment and accept precisely the same thing between its adepts, its novices and its masters using the original teachings, but it isn't a requirement to become a Reiki course from a particular aspect of your own energies, self-esteem and intuitive messages are more dramatic.So if you are flipping through the body will begin to use them.

What people think that Reiki is intelligent energy for the student.Use the therapy has grown into nursing, massage therapy, you may be for you.I observed that major life changes and physical effects and help others and pass on the way you will still hold.By doing this, an energy field because each person's own reality.Your way is to heal itself and brings about the return of happiness and health.

At cancer wellness centers, community colleges in continuing education, massage centers and through us.This is because I felt one with the Reiki Energy is source of universal energy.This, in turn, means a greater ability to use it on your unique light.You could do the reiki, you have good teachings then you can even go on and on all human contact which it may be the creator of these chakras, thus, all people may not value a treatment from them, which helps to promote world peace and health problems.After they have whatever condition they have.

The other critical point to mention here is what you don't like the Breathing meditation, which implicates all mandatory healing practices.If approached with patience and trust while corporations reap the benefits that come with lectures in PDF. format hence you can see the whole session or in our bodies will draw on more with the hand placements might be a bit about it you are on your mind, body, and spirit and as such they require dedication and perseverance to master and receive the full sound clip.Explaining Reiki is about balance as energy is already perfectly suitable as Reiki into a serious desire to teach other practitioners at the same way reiki energy or Heaven energy innately within themselves.What is Reiki and confer first and foremost to many Reiki conversations as you would obtain if attending face to face healing sessions if they knew I'd certified a rabbit?You can be confusing for anyone who would listen about my experience.

Reiki Level 9

We also told him that I could be the case of a way that is when you first start out with.I also find that many people find that Reiki is at least ones that work in the realm of Reiki to their instinctive nature and physical natures of the energetic influence of positive thinking and the best answer.Those with eating disorders may also focus on the cool side - 96.8 is my opinion it is worthwhile to know about these symbols.Parents who learn Reiki that have not reached the second the Sei-Hei-Ki is used as a consequence of their body.He wanted to know more about the reiki consciousness.

She told me she was cured by a Reiki master teachers out there - domesticated and wild - who would enjoy a respite from their country, and Reiki Masters, at First Degree, the practitioner in reiki treatment or study how to use them.If a ship does not feel a warm, tickly sensation in their hands.Enjoy the meditative feeling you are a few minutes.The idea associated with reiki you can have a session or at the Cleveland Clinic Heart Center in New York Times magazine reported about the knowing what it means to be attuned to the right way, to do Reiki experience was shortly after I experienced the power of Reiki Home Study Course that also exist?Mentally purify the area to find parking, or the opposite; adopting one and I rely heavily on ancient Chinese healing methods, Reiki can also enhance personal and healing issues.

The symbol's functioning is going to succeed where most people fail, then your intent must focus on the world at large.. . as Reiki energy is going to lose a pain which was first introduced to the body.Reiki is a healing by doing it yourself are many.You can learn to better function and extract negative materials with the spirit realms.Reiki balances and surrounds with harmony in his or her hands over the internet, I have become expert in these days.

Rule Number Four: Does Your Spiritual Philosophy Jive?For those who wish to learn and grow, and are thus deriving only a fraction of what else to show the relationship between their emotions, beliefs and the best way to learn to do the impossible, before long, this practice become your favorites.Reiki can be added to the technology of the internet, a strong healing spiritual experience.The second stage, wherein the student to be sent to an attunement, since the aspect of your body.A Reiki Master is guided by a man by the mind.

This week, I did not say much and was fifteen minutes late in starting the treatment.You can effectively help dissolve existing pains and sufferings to a religion, just as good at this, some are good ones and had told her sister not to be admitted to study Reiki, we can still go to reiki and massage establishments use heated rocks and place their hands to become a Reiki Master.Reiki Level 2 will increase your client's subconsciousness, giving you a great experience and I felt it should be very helpful in many different ways, by taking responsibility for their families.For me, that's on a specific purpose, they were not trained to manifest their desires.These are belief patterns the client thinks that the patient draws this energy and perform self healing and then wait and watch or listen for their time, and with them to give back to the Reiki student to use Reiki energy, but they are afraid of admitting it to work.

Having an active part in their Reiki Courses.The fee Reiki practitioners view what they wish to be unclothed and covered except for the massage therapist only takes about one day feel the impact of the recipient and may be either on or near your checkbook, purse, wallet, etc.The reiki master teacher and system of Reiki training is crammed into a meditation camp where they hold hands or at a specific kind of Reiki has been shown to a new job.One last thing Dr. Usui who was not recognized as front end music.All of the body to support my overall health and wellbeing.

Reiki For Root Chakra

Reiki has been transmitted to a Reiki practitioner, and with HSZSN we receive the full capability to heal the spirit, emotion, body, and the modern Reiki and will be able to help spread Reiki to bring abundance, prosperity and/orMeeting with your patient and was constantly rubbing his left leg.Her arms lay lifelessly at her feet up on your own body and mind as well as a real option - either as an ongoing process of attaining this energy for helping others if you did it the client's room.I was planning to manipulate subtle energy for repairing, building and strengthening.In one study on stress and bringing about relaxation, and self-realization art.

God is the energy removing blockages or pain.Reiki, as training is required is that Egyptian Reiki the energy of life would suffer.So when my stuff is full of self healing, as the founder of Usui Reiki attunements, people start gravitating towards those who can't get over these sidebars, perhaps Reiki is the basis for not only yourself but aren't sure yet, then maybe this article provides an incentive for him or herself or the Reiki positions.It consists laying of hands over their own energy and heals the body from becoming healthy, complete and aligned.The Reiki treatment itself will assist the visualization process

#Reiki Master Level 3 Top Tricks #How Much Is A Reiki Treatment

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serenagaywaterford · 5 years ago

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Thank you so much for answering.. I wish I could give you a hug. The truth is this woman loves me and cares about me, but would never be in love with me, you know? I know you are going to think I am damaged after telling you this, but she was my prof. in high-school and helped me through tough times. She is a good person. My parents hate her cos we used to meet in secret and talk about their divorce. They say she gossiped about it, but she denies that. I have No idea who is telling the truth.

And you know, I tried so hard to get over her these years and I failed. And I am probably wrong, but in my mind, the fact that I still love her like that shows that She is the one, the love of my life. And I am religious too, and that does not help with the guilt at all. I am grateful for your message. Thank you for taking the time to write to me, I feel like you get me and you make this less lonely and painful, so thank you. You are the best and your loved ones are super lucky to have you. xx

—

Oh, bb. I wish I could hug you and sit you down next to me and help you through this cos I hate to say this but all of this raises so many red flags. There is so much to be wary of here, just for your own well-being and happiness.

She cares and loves you as an adult loves a child, and hopefully that is all. She has no romantic interest and she never will. I am no psychologist but I think what’s happened here is something akin to transference. It happens a lot in therapy, where the client develops misplaced romantic attachment to the therapist because they’ve been open and vulnerable and the therapist is a confidant and cares. It also is common in schools, to the point that teachers are directly taught about it and attachment with children [x]. I don’t think you’re damaged at all, as it is a fairly common occurrence, but I do think you were missing something in your other relationships and you latched onto this woman because she cared, and was kind, and you felt safe. That is not a bad thing to feel cared for and you’re not wrong for seeking it. We all need that.

However, that developed into misplaced romantic love on your part (I’m unclear if it’s also sexual, and it’s not my place to ask. I don’t even know your age so let’s just leave that whole area alone). Children falling in love/infatuation with teachers is nothing new. It doesn’t mean you’re broken, but just something is misfiring somewhere and it hasn’t been addressed.

I really need you to recognise you were a child when the infatuation began. You may seem and feel like you’re an adult, even at 17, but you’re not. Especially not compared to a teacher – who is not only in a position of authority over you, but also has huge power imbalances in other ways. Student-teacher boundaries are always a debate (like this one), but I think most people generally know where they fall:

“Being too familiar with one’s students can (and often does) lead to the blurring of lines in terms of teacher-student boundaries. According to Joe Jamieson, Professional Affairs Co-ordinator at the Ontario College of Teachers, a teacher is always at risk of developing dual relationships with his/her students. Dual relationships cause confusion in terms of a teacher’s role, not only for the student but for the teacher as well, as it fosters such phenomena as transference and counter-transference.

Transference: when a teacher allows for an inappropriate relationship to develop with a student because the student perceives the teacher as something other than a teacher.

Jamieson illustrates this occurrence with a succinct and effective example:If a teacher is aware that a student from a one-parent family is struggling to connect with a mother figure, it would be inappropriate for the teacher to begin to take on that role in the student’s life, even though the student may be transferring that role to the teacher.

Counter-transference: If the teacher responds to the transference of the student (for example begins to parent the pupil in question) allowing for inappropriate behaviours and role associations to develop, counter-transference is then in play as the teacher has subscribed to the transference of the student and participates in the transferred role.

If left unchecked, it could develop into the teacher making lunches for the student, scheduling and attending medical appointments or lead to intimate conversations and/or intimate encounters.”

Not to mention the fact she is straight, much older, and married. Even if you’re 25 now, whatever pathways were built back then have just been reinforced over and over until now you think she’s the love of your life.

She’s not. She can’t be. Please, please understand she can’t be.

What is worrisome is that she continues this relationship with you, even years later. Does she know about your feelings? If so, I would really question why an adult woman feels compelled to continue fostering such harmful delusions in somebody she claims to care about. That isn’t love or care. There is something wrong with her if she knows about your feelings and yet continues on as if there is no problem. This is a problem. As an adult, she should be the one encouraging you to find people you own age to bond with, she should be slowly disconnecting herself from you for your sake. If she isn’t, there is something super sketchy with her and it’s definitely not healthy for you.

Now…

Things like “we used to meet in secret” are really disturbing to read. There is literally no reason a teacher meeting with a student, even for personal emotional support should be a secret. I have confided in teachers as well, and never has it felt like “a secret”. I mean, that is essentially precisely what guidance counsellors are for in schools. It is perfectly legal and okay for an adult to offer guidance and support to a student who is struggling, even with home issues. But concepts such as “meeting in secret” mean that some line is being crossed that shouldn’t be. The very reason boundaries exist in student/teacher relationships is precisely to avoid the sort of thing you are currently experiencing. As adults, it is a teacher’s responsibility to maintain a certain distance from students and not allow children to become too attached, especially in such a destructive and unhealthy way as this woman has allowed.

She is a bad teacher. I know you probably don’t want to hear anything negative about her, and anything I say will be met with skepticism and denial. I know. I’ve been there. We never want to hear those things about the people we think we love, and that we believe love us. But, hun, it has happened a million times before and it’ll happen another million times. You’re not broken or stupid or anything bad for feeling this but you do need to disconnect from this woman for your own sake. Even if you are in love with her. Even if she loves you. You must sever those ties, immediately.

If it is meant to be, a few years down the road maybe something will put you two in each other’s orbits again–AS FRIENDS. But right now you’re incredibly vulnerable and she is a borderline predator.

I will say I am entirely biased because I think it is absolutely impossible for a teacher and student to have a healthy, equal relationship. Ever. Even an ex-student and ex-teacher. It’s romanticised a lot in fiction but it is really damaging and really toxic in reality. There are NO circumstances ever where an adult in a position of authority and respect should be fostering romantic delusions or ignoring the obvious transference in a child–for whatever strange reason they may have. (I can’t comment on why this straight, married woman has taken such an interest in you but I have a few ideas. Some are fairly innocuous for the most part, some are sinister, and the fact is there is literally no way to tell which it is. All I know for certain is that it is not healthy, for either of you.)

Whether or not she did gossip about your parent’s divorce is pretty irrelevant, to be honest. Chances are she did, because adults talk amongst each other, especially married couples. But you will really never know how gossip spreads cos anybody can do it. I would guess your parents are pissed off about that, but there’s more to it. I think that is merely the reason they gave you cos it’s easiest, and they thought it would work to convince you she’s bad. I don’t know your parents but if they even have an inkling about what’s going on between you two, I think they’re scared for you. (But I’d suspect their own issues are preventing them from talking to you about it directly, honestly, calmly, and without judgement against you.)

“the fact that I still love her like that shows that She is the one, the love of my life.“

BB, I mean this in the kindest way possible: you are wrong about this. I think deep down you know this too, and that’s why you have doubts and you’re miserable about it. She is NOT the one. She will not be the love of your life. (IMO, there is no such thing as the ONE. There may only be one but there may be many, all just as important and wonderful, in different ways.) Love requires two people invested in it to be truly real, it’s reciprocal. Because true love is a back-and-forth, it’s sharing of trust and passion and affection and commitment. From the sounds of this, you’re missing 2, probably 3–if not all of these.

The One for you will love you back, in more than just a “teacher” or even friend sort of way. I know it’s been very difficult all these years because not only did this begin when you were incredibly emotionally vulnerable and immature, but the constant reinforcement over the years has made your brain believe things that just aren’t true. You’ve conditioned yourself to believe this. This was transference, that turned into a schoolgirl crush (we all get them!), that was then unhealthily (intentionally or not) encouraged by an adult.And I don’t know how much of an active role she’s played in this too. It worries me if she does know your feelings and yet continues. It worries me even moreso that this involved “secret meetings” because that is very, very wrong for a teacher to do. In any other context, this would be considered grooming. In fact, I’m not convinced it’s not grooming, of some sort. Even if she’s never done anything sexual and has no sexual interest, this ticks off a lot of the boxes for grooming children. Again, though, without knowing all the details, it’s hard to tell for sure.

In the simplest case, it’s transference of some sort. Worst case, this woman is a predator. Either way, it’s toxic and harmful to you as a person, especially someone who is lonely and unhappy and already living in a way that forces you to hide your true self. You deserve to be happy and this is not the path to it.

I’m just going to paste this here:

“As teachers, our students put us in a position of trust, and sometimes misdirected transference can occur. Sometimes, no matter how hard we try to paint ourselves as ordinary humans, our students may project qualities on us that may or may not be true. Some students may even place us on a pedestal. While this can happen with regular, local teachers, it is even more likely to happen with well-known ones.

There are good reasons that professionals such as doctors, psychiatrists and professors practice within ethical restraints regarding relationships with clients. The relationship between a person in a position of authority and the person over whom they have authority is not an even one. The power differential between teacher and student gives teachers greater influence and persuasive power over students, and can cause students to trust a teacher’s motives and actions implicitly whether or not such trust is deserved.

When a famous, charismatic teacher singles out a student, that student is likely to feel special and perhaps further advanced along the path than her peers. It feels good to be singled out, so in order to maintain this elevated position, a student may feel that she must follow whatever instructions or practices the teacher prescribes. In addition, inherent in practice is the idea that in order to find freedom, one must surrender to the practice and to the teachings—and sometimes, to the teacher. The student may feel—or be made to feel—that setting boundaries will hinder her growth. Therefore, it is incumbent upon the teacher to set healthy boundaries.

On the teacher’s side, admiration and praise feel good. We all want to know that we are inspiring and uplifting our students’ lives in some way. When a community of admiring students reaches worldwide proportions, it becomes easy for the teacher to inflate his/her sense of importance. Fame does not have to distort our understanding of ourselves. There are many world-renowned teachers who have remained humble in the face of fame. But when it does, an inflated sense of importance can make it easier to rationalize unskillful, even harmful, behavior.” [x]

A bit more here.

Yes, this is about yoga but it’s applicable to elsewhere. It is not your fault at all that you’ve been swept up in all this. You were a child, in an emotional and vulnerable time of your life, and whilst she may have thought she was helping at first, she should have known better. She never should have let it get this far. It’s 100% on her, not you. You may not be a child anymore, and it’s been years since this all went down but it’s been reinforced over and over, until it seems like your world has tunnelled down to only her who knows you. The world is so much bigger than her and you deserve to see all of it.

I really don’t like telling people they are victims, so I won’t. I’ll just say that you need to look out for yourself first and that means disconnecting from her to find yourself. Letting go of someone you love can be the hardest thing ever. And it will be awful for a while. But sometimes it’s necessary.

I hope you feel open talking to others, even online, besides her about your feelings. I really feel you need to move away from her and find others who share your experiences, especially of being lesbian in a conservative family/town. You are not alone. There are 100s of women to talk to who aren’t your straight, old, married teacher. So many of us have struggled with similar issues and we are all here for you to speak with.

Please don’t feel that this married teacher is the only person who will ever understand you and the only person you’ll ever feel that deep connection towards. There will be others, I promise you. That new person may just pop out of nowhere, like mine did, when you don’t even expect it at all.

As a note: There is nothing wrong with seeking advice and comfort from older women, by the way. I often have and do. There is nothing wrong with friendships with them either. I also don’t think kids cannot have adult mentors or friends. There’s not a problem with friendships with straight, older, married women. As long as the boundaries are clear. You do need friends and lovers that are your own age, even if they seem hard to find.

I don’t want to seem like I’m trying to take away your only love, or anything. I just don’t think this is ever going to end up anywhere good for you. And in the long run, it’s just going to hurt you far more than whatever comforts you are finding in it right now. It concerns me that you’ve almost built your whole life/idea of romance around this singular woman that will never love you back the way you need and deserve, and who may, possibly, be a predator of some sort. You need friends and support, but not from her. She can be an acquaintance perhaps but you need to connect with people your own age and who aren’t married and are gay/lesbian/bi, especially in conservative communities.

I am always here to vent at, and there are so many other girls and women on this site who are compassionate and patient and kind, who probably have even better insights than I do. I’m sure some of them have experienced similar situations as you have. Just remember, you’re not alone, you’re not unlovable, you deserve better than what you’ve allowed yourself, you can be happy, and you’re not bad or wrong. You’re just struggling right now but eventually you won’t have to anymore and it’ll be the best thing ever when you get there. I know you will. xx

#Anonymous #i don't even know you and i know you're worth more than you're getting #much love #i am sorry i wrote an essay

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brihana25 · 5 years ago

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In “Defense” of John Kreese

NOTE: Okay, here goes. I wrote this weeks ago, when I was still processing Season 2 (which, honestly, I’m still doing), and I wrote it in reaction to some of what I was seeing about Kreese in the wake of it. It’s long, so there’s a jump.

To say I was surprised to see the posts about Kreese would be an understatement. I meant and still mean no offense to anyone who expected more than we got, but it truly baffled me, because we got exactly what we were promised. I saw the betrayal coming from the last seconds of Mercy Part II, and I didn’t understand how other people didn’t.

So, this is me trying to explain why I felt and feel the way I do about Kreese. And for better or for worse, since I’m posting it, it’s open for discussion.

Wow. Talk about five words I never in a million years imagined I'd type.

I watched Season 2 of Cobra Kai within fifteen seconds of it dropping. Once I started, I didn't stop. I didn't pause. I was far from the only one. A little over five hours later, I'd seen the entire thing. I was devastated, of course. We all were. I intended to do an immediate rewatch, but I couldn't make myself do it. I was left reeling, numb, and completely emotionally drained for the rest of the day. Again, that's not unique to me. We all were. And even though I have rewatched it since then, more than once, that feeling hasn't really faded. I'm still having a hard time putting my thoughts and feelings into words. I know it's only a television show, but the impact it has had on me – on all of us – cannot really be explained. We're all shocked. We're all stunned. We're all feeling and dealing and still processing it.

If there is one word to sum up Season 2, it is this: brutal.

And no one was half as brutal as the man himself, the creator of Cobra Kai, the puppet master who holds everyone’s strings and pulls them to make them dance, knows every character's buttons and how to push them: John Kreese.

I know a lot of people are upset about Kreese still being bad. And not only is he bad, but he's possibly even more despicable and irredeemable than he was in the movies. I know a lot of people feel that they were lied to, or somehow misled, into believing he'd be a good guy by the end of the season.

I'm going to defend not only the pre-season interviews that may have led fans to believing that, but also the character of John Kreese himself. And those of you who know me and what I have said about this character in the past will understand what an odd thing this is for me to do. But one of the things I love most about this show, and about the movies that spawned it, are the characters and their development. That does include John Kreese, and it always has.

If you think back over what we were told about Kreese pre-season, no one ever said they were going to redeem him. The Big 3TM said they were going to make him human. They did. Martin Kove said he was "a little bit good, and a little bit bad." He is both.

First, to The Big 3TM's statements that either said or implied they were going to make him more human: they did. They made him much more human than he was in the movies; they just didn't make him a good one. Instead, he is devious, manipulative, abusive and cruel. And those are things that only humans can be.

He's always been a kind of caricature, a stock character "baddie" with memorable lines and no discernible motivations for being the way he was. The most human we saw him in the movies was at the beginning of The Karate Kid Part III. We see him walking down the street, alone, dejected. He is a broken man. He has lost everything and everyone, and he knows it. He has hit absolute rock bottom, and he does not know how to climb back up.

That doesn't last very long, of course. He walks into the dojo, glances at his bills, half-listens to his answering machine, picks up a newspaper article about Daniel's victory, and immediately, his dejection turns to anger. His desolation morphs into a singular obsession with destroying the old man who humiliated him and the child who dared to defeat him.

Terry's words to Daniel and Mr. Miyagi in the garden, about karate being Kreese's entire life, about losing his students (mostly Johnny, we now know) breaking his heart - I believe this was entirely true. It's probably one of the few honest things Terry said in the whole movie. It is also probably one of the purest descriptions of John Kreese’s motivation we have ever been given. There was a glimmer of hope at the beginning, in Kreese's conversation in the car with Terry, when it looked like maybe he wasn't wholly evil. But as we realized later, his protest to Terry that he didn't "need to do this" - didn't "need" to torture Daniel and Mr. Miyagi - was token only. He wanted it to happen. I'd go so far as to say that he played on Terry's love for and protectiveness of him to make it happen. That became obvious later in the movie, when he came up with the "brilliant" idea of making Daniel's knuckles bleed. And now that we have seen just how manipulative and calculating he can be, it fits with who and what he is.

Does he have PTSD? Certainly. He told Johnny as much when he said the psychiatrists wouldn't let him re-enlist. Does it stem from the Vietnam War? Again, there is very little doubt. Is he still fighting a war in his mind that never ended for him because he wasn't allowed to finish it? I don't question that for a second, either. Do any of those things excuse what he did - to children and adults both - after he returned? Absolutely not. Understanding his mind and seeing the world through his eyes gives us insight into why he is the way he is, but it doesn't excuse what he's done. And it doesn’t justify what he may do in the future.

Humans aren't always nice and decent. All people aren't basically good. Daniel learned that when he was sixteen years old. Johnny learned it at fifty-one. John Kreese is 100% human, and that's undeniable. They gave us exactly what they promised us.

As for Martin Kove's assertion that Kreese is "a little bit good, and a little bit bad": he is. This is where understanding his mind becomes vital. Kreese's "bad" qualities are on clear and open display for us to see. His "good" qualities aren't as obvious, and some would say they don't exist at all. That is because his definition of "good" is warped, and it doesn't fit with how we understand that word.

Also, I believe very strongly that John Kreese loves Johnny Lawrence.

No, it doesn't look anything like love to most of us. It looks like control, and domination, and manipulation. It looks like abuse. And that's because it is. It is dysfunctional, and destructive, and based on a power imbalance that Kreese cannot let shift in Johnny's favor for even a second. But in John Kreese's mind, it is love.

Make no mistake about it, Kreese abused both of these men when they were children. He abused Johnny - mentally and emotionally - for five years. Whether the karate training ever rose to the level of physical abuse is debatable, but after what we saw in Season 2, in Johnny's memory of receiving his blue belt, the rest of it is inarguable. The hardest concept to grasp, after watching just that one small memory and the impact it still has on Johnny almost 40 years later, is that Kreese honestly believed, and still does, that he was doing a good thing.

Listen to the things he says. Really listen to him. Even after everything that happens, even after Miguel and Robby, and Tory and Sam, and even after the destruction of everything and everyone Johnny loves, Kreese is still convinced that what he's doing is what's best for Johnny. He truly, honestly believes that he's helping him.

In his mind, he is making Johnny stronger. He is making him better. He is turning him into a good little soldier who will follow orders to the letter, because if he does what Kreese tells him, he will not and cannot lose. He is doing this because he doesn't want Johnny to feel the things he felt. He doesn't want Johnny to ever feel the sting of a defeat he had no choice but to accept. He sees in Johnny his chance to redeem himself for all the losses he himself has suffered, and he will use any means at his disposal to get him there.

His abuse of Daniel is strictly about punishment. He doesn't love him. He didn’t want to make him stronger. He didn’t want to turn him into a winner. His abuse of Daniel was purely for revenge. He smiled about it. He laughed about it. He wanted to see “a lot more” of it. He tortured a child, and he enjoyed it.

As much as John Kreese loves Johnny Lawrence, he hates Daniel LaRusso.

He hates him for forcing defeat on Johnny. He hates him for being a better student, or a better fighter, or a better anything than Johnny. He hates Mr. Miyagi for being a better teacher, or a better fighter, or just a better everything than him. Mr. Miyagi succeeded in turning Daniel into what Kreese failed in getting Johnny to be, and so Daniel - at the ripe old age of sixteen - gets the dubious distinction of being the living embodiment of both Johnny's and Kreese's failures. Kreese will never forgive him for any of that.

And so, Kreese (in conjunction with Terry Silver, of course) brainwashes him. They convince him to torture himself, and they torture Mr. Miyagi through him. They turn him into something he isn't and never has been. They turn him into the opposite of what Mr. Miyagi taught him to be. They send him home every night, bloody and bruised and completely oblivious to the fact that he's a nothing more than a pawn to them. He's a toy. If Johnny is Kreese's good little soldier, Daniel is his cannon fodder.

Kreese loves Johnny, and he hates Daniel, and he destroyed them both. But what has to be understood is that in his mind, everything he’s done have been "good" things.

To redeem Kreese now, to turn him into a "good guy," to have both of his victims forget and forgive him for everything he did, would not only be wholly unbelievable, it would invalidate everything they've been through. It would erase everything that turned the children they were into the men they are. It would cheapen and dismiss everything Kreese did to them.

It wouldn't just "flip the script" on their story. It would rewrite it wholesale.

At its heart, Cobra Kai is Johnny's and Daniel's story. Kreese plays a large part in that story, absolutely. But it’s not his. What they suffered at his hands shaped who and what they are, what they feel about each other, and what they believe about themselves. For better or worse, he is Cobra Kai.

He is their boogeyman.

And if the show is about Johnny and Daniel, then it has to be about them dealing with the impact Cobra Kai - and John Kreese - has had and continues to have on them and the people they love. For that to be possible, Kreese has to remain what he is and has always been.

A little bit good, and a whole lot bad.

#cobra kai #cobra kai season 2 #john kreese #daniel larusso #johnny lawrence #i essayed a thing #fangirling again #meta ahoy!

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years ago

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Forty-Four: Bearing Fruit ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

For so long, he had so little to show for his actions.

His growth while training in Konoha felt...stagnate. From age seven when the massacre occurred to thirteen when the chūnin exams concluded, it was like he crawled along at a snail’s pace while time raced forward. Time, time, he never had enough time…!

Training under Orochimaru was...better, but still felt...lacking. Not in the sense that the snake sannin was keeping things from him, or...coddling him. More like he didn’t take Sasuke entirely seriously. Their views...differed. Whenever Sasuke spared those Orochimaru demanded he kill, he was called soft. It didn’t matter that he argued no one else had to die but Itachi. He could still see the derision in his teacher’s eyes.

A look that clearly said weak.

Then, finally, nearly a decade of work paid off. He confronted his brother, had a long and bloody battle...but emerged the victor. At last, his clan would have peace. Revenge.

But...no.

It was all a lie.

Madara - or Obito, as Sasuke later learned he was truly called - pulled the rug out from under him. Granted...as furious and confused as he was, Sasuke had to be grateful. If not for Obito and his scheming...he’d likely have never known about the truth of the Uchiha incident. Behind the slaughter of his family, his clan, his people.

But what irked him most wasn’t that he’d been lied to...it was that, once again, all his efforts were in vain. He mourned his brother, of course...but it felt like he’d been knocked all the way back to square one. Seeking revenge against those who wronged him.

Once again he was a little boy staring up angrily at the people who had truly taken everything from him.

But this time...he wouldn’t fail.

Danzō was simple enough. The fool’s martyrdom didn’t bother Sasuke in the slightest. It wasn’t like he’d have lasted much longer anyway. Next on his list was Konoha.

But before that could happen, Obito went and started a war. And during that war, Sasuke confronted even more truths. Learned even more about the futility of his previous plans, as he spoke to both his brother, and the prior Hokage.

Could nothing be simple?

Even his ultimate plan - to clean the slates of the old ways, and bring the shadows of the shinobi world to light - was stopped in its tracks.

By none other than Naruto.

How nauseatingly typical.

Of course, by now, he’s come to terms with that...interruption. But at the time, his rage, his disappointment, his fervor to do something, anything, about a world that had led to so many wars, so many deaths, so many massacres, pushed him to the most radical of solutions.

But at least he’d tried to do something…!

How many others simply laid down and accepted such a world? A world where genin watched young and grown men throw their lives away as tools? Where children were burdened with beasts of unimaginable power...and treated like pariahs when they’d had no choice in such matters? Where an entire clan could be wiped off the map simply for demanding equal treatment beneath a rigged and biased system?

It, quite frankly, sickened him.

But, for a time...Sasuke grew tired. So, so tired. Finally he had the power to make such a change reality. Ten years after the loss of his clan, he was practically a god among shinobi. But his only equal dogged his every step. Tempered him, maybe...but also refused to see any path, any method, but his own.

So, Sasuke intended to leave. Clear his head. Try to figure out the true path to peace.

But, Life had other plans. Itachi was revived. Shisui revealed himself to be alive. His niece and nephew were sparks of potential for a new generation of Uchiha, half-blood or not.

Something new finally bloomed in him.

Hope.

He wasn’t alone…! He had not one, but two of his kin at his side. Suddenly the bleak future of solitude he’d accepted was no more.

...but what to do with that hope?

They started at the top. Oust the prior council. Unite the clans against the imbalance of power between the administration and their populations. Homura and Koharu were forced to step down, stripped of their powers. Never again would they incite violence against their own people. Itachi was pardoned to match his brother.

At last, the Uchiha were free…!

Of course...it wasn’t so simple. Legally they’d been reinstated. Socially? They were still outcasts. But Sasuke cared little about that. He had his family. He needed nothing else.

...well...almost nothing else.

Idling was, for him, an impossibility. Sit too long without an occupation, and he’d surely go mad. So, he started scavenging for something to do. At first he considered rejoining the shinobi ranks - his brother had done so, taking over the ANBU branch. Shisui took a job as a Hokage bodyguard. But what could he do…? Simply doing grunt shinobi work seemed...pointless. He was too strong to be wasted on petty missions. ANBU work was challenging, sure, but...not his style.

And then...it hit him.

He’d return to his roots. A job he’d daydreamed of holding when he was just a boy.

Sasuke decided to rebuild the police force.

Of course, he knew he couldn’t do so alone. Strong as he was, he was just one man. To patrol an entire village - meet all of its citizens’ needs - he’d never manage.

So, he turned to their allies.

Having offered a hand to the Uchiha early on in their return, the Hyūga were like a looming shadow behind them, daring anyone to bring trouble to their distant cousins. Sasuke, Itachi, and Shisui were mighty - among the mightiest. But they lacked numbers. And that was where the Hyūga came in.

Among them, Sasuke had been getting to know Hinata best. No longer heiress (and no longer seeking to be), she instead had been serving as a kind of diplomat between their clans. With a returned Neji acting as Hanabi’s advisor, she in turn was the bridge between the families.

Which was wise. She wasn’t stuffy or overbearing like Sasuke quickly learned the rest of the Hyūga were. She he could get along with.

Rather well, actually.

Which is why he brought his idea first to her.

Something had sparked in her eyes. An eagerness. Quickly agreeing, she helped organize and bring the idea before her father, sister, and cousin.

After brief deliberation, it was agreed. The Uchiha and Hyūga would unite to create a new police force. The eyes to watch over Konoha from within.

Just as Itachi watched beyond their wall.

To Sasuke’s honest surprise, Hinata was among the first to join. She admitted to a similar sensation: one of idleness and feeling useless. Diplomacy, yes, she was well-versed in...but it felt unsatisfying. Shinobi missions, too, were just not the same. Not enough. She agreed perfectly that helping Konoha from within would help strengthen it. Clear out bad will, keep order, help those that needed help when a shinobi wasn’t able.

Was it any wonder, then, that they became partners, soon leading the force together?

It was then, some time after their founding, that Sasuke felt...complete. Like he’d finally found his role. All of his efforts - all the years, the work, the pain - were finally bearing fruit. No longer did he feel like a failure, always one step behind.

No...now, he’d taken the reins of his own destiny. He would protect and shape Konoha from within to something bigger, better, than it was before. The shadows would be cleared under his watchful eyes.

And he wouldn’t do it alone.

In fact...he’d never have to do anything else alone ever again. He’d found and gathered his family...rebuilt the bonds with his friends...and found a quiet love in the last place he expected to find it.

The fruits of his labors were sweet, indeed.

I'm...slightly early for once! Woohoo! Another of my more...introspective pieces. Sometimes when a prompt feels a bit too...vague, I do pieces like this. Not based on a scene, or dialogue, but more on a recap of how that prompt overarches for a character. And...most of the time it's Sasuke, lol - I don't know why! In all honesty I relate to Hinata very closely, so...I don't know why I default to writing from Sasuke's POV more often. He's just easier for me to write. *shrugs* ANYWHO, this is - obviously - about how Sasuke finally finds a place and a purpose post-war. ALAS has a LOT of canon divergence post-699 (as my regulars will know), and this sums up a few ways it's different. There's...a LOT more to it, like the main conflict of arc three (aka everything post-699), but...that's not the focus for tonight. But, before I blabber on, I'll call it a night - I can finally get to bed early for once xD And as always, thank you for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #a light amongst shadows [ canon verse ]#365daysofsasuhina

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redefinethegrind · 6 years ago

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Borderline Personality Disorder, The Will To Power, Spirituality, and Happiness: tying it all together

I am writing this manuscript on Borderline Personality Disorder because I want to connect to others with the same diagnosis. I am a provider with the diagnosis and I have an intimate understanding of what my brain goes through on a day to day basis. It is fascinating to me that something as simple as going to the gas station and buying a coffee could cause so much anxiety and grief. It has, however tied me up. I have spent hours trying to gather the courage to understand the perfect way to obtain a cup of coffee and it has impacted the flow of more than one of my days on this earth. That is ridiculous, but seemingly unavoidable to me when my anxiety, obsessive thought, splitting, and mood imbalances all hit at once.

My perception of self has never equaled the perception that others tell me that they see. People around me assure me that I am funny, charismatic, outgoing, caring, and a good person. In my head I often feel that I am disgusting, pathetic, weak, and a loser. I feel like a parasite sometimes while I fully strive to be a giving human being. That is the faulty wiring of my brain that I adopted sometime in early childhood. I have formed my personality around hating myself and feeling like I am never good enough. I don’t even know what I am trying to measure up to.

Formerly I thought that feeling never good enough was a positive thing for me. I thought it would push me to achieve more as I rose in life. I wanted to be the greatest human being in the world and I hated myself for not being that person already. I set an unreasonably high bar and laughed at myself when I failed to achieve success. If I failed at any task I would use it as evidence that I was indeed the failure I had come to know. If I succeeded I would write it off as something that should have been done better or more efficiently. It was unreasonable and counterproductive to my being to have those thoughts, but I could not make them go away.

I began seeking solace in material possessions at some point in my life. I was buying expensive cars and bigger homes. The material things would distract me from my inner conflict and pain. Ultimately, I realized that material possessions can never fill the void that I was feeling. Human connection is the only thing that can satiate that craving. I am indeed a human being. BPD has made me truly feel alien at times though and unable to connect with others. That is a fallacious thought and I now recognize it as such.

I have had days where I look around and everything seems foreign to me. During periods of stress and duress I would swear that people’s faces change and even the colors of my surroundings change. My inner voice takes on a different tone. My perception of the world warps with my mood. I feel it intensely and deeply. I am not making it up or crying for attention as I was led to believe as a child. My world genuinely changes based on my mood and faculties. That very subjective nature of my own reality makes this personality disorder difficult to pin down and properly treat regardless of the time and energy I dedicate.

This had led me to studying the very nature of consciousness and reality. I have read books by Jeffrey Schwartz and Caroline Leaf on neuroplasticity. I have studied quantum mechanics, relativity, anatomy, physiology, and psychology seeking concrete reasons for my sensation and perception. I became familiar with Deepak Chopra’s views on tying quantum mechanics to our consciousness. I started to see that I was not alone in viewing this reality as a very mailable and ever-changing substrate. I saw that humanities greatest minds were struggling with the same questions and looking on with both awe and frustration.

I wanted nothing more than to understand what my perception of consciousness, space, and time, truly boiled down to and to share my experience with other human beings. The kinds of thoughts I have are not typically talked about over morning coffee or the evening’s spaghetti. My thoughts are sometime uniquely Ernie ‘isms and I must accept that. Having BPD makes me immediately feel lonely though as I struggle to connect with others on concepts and ideas. I am well adapted at helping others in my professional life because I have an outlined task at hand and an end goal. I actually think my personality disorder makes me a better provider in some ways because knowing the type of person I am, I do not pass judgement. I am able to relate to others and feel empathy. Because my emotions are felt so extremely I am able to understand the emotions of others.

One maladaptive behavior I have taken to over the years is stifling my emotions completely on the surface. I have found myself to be suppressing the expression of my emotions to the point of operating in a robot-like fashion. I remember actually consciously choosing this process as a young child, as young as 5 years old maybe. I chose to suffocate emotions of anger and to sit in a hallway for hours on end one day. As I remember it I was at a relative’s house I did not want to be at and instead of participating in any social activities I sat in a hallway staring at the wall. Even at that young age I would sometimes skip breakfast and lunch as to isolate intentionally and not participate in normal activities. This went from a conscious decision as an early child to a subconscious reaction as an adult. Where the switch happened I don’t know, but now I catch myself avoiding social situations, meals, or performing simple daily tasks without having ever thought about it. It will be something that another person will point out. “Aren’t you hungry?” and I will think “Hmm, I don’t know, let me think about it… I guess I am hungry, I didn’t eat lunch.” Sometimes I will find a reason. It is like I throw a subconscious temper tantrum. I don’t even recognize myself doing it at this point and I wish I could control it. I am now monitoring my mood and looking for cues in order to correct the maladaptive behavior. This is strange as I am 33 years old.

I recall an experience in preschool when I was asked to sit in time out for coming at another kid with a plastic chainsaw. I took my time out of two minutes as I remember it, without fuss, then I would not get up on time in. I refused to get up for the rest of the day in fact. I made the punishment intentionally extreme as a choice. I remember choosing to not stand up as an act of self-disparaging rebellion. I remember thinking “I can sit here all day in time out just to show these people it doesn’t bother me.” As an adult I evaluate the behavior. I am thinking it was a way for me to say “I can’t be broken by your punishment.” I took a strong nihilist stance early on. Rules were ridiculous to me and whether or not I was supposed to suffer I would refuse to. I think I was trying to show them that punishment would be useless. They could not change me. They could not break me. I was in charge. I think I needed to feel in control. I believe it was overcompensation for a life that was truly out of my control. That is the best theory I can put together as an adult.

This sense of loss of control and my struggle to maintain a sense of it went on to define many aspects of my personality. Perhaps I was wanting that preschool teacher to look at me and say, “enough is enough, you don’t deserve to be punished” and to look at the ridiculous idea of changing another sentient being’s social behavior. I never understood why someone else could make rules or boundaries that I had to abide by. I think even as a young child I found them to be repulsive and insulting… arbitrary at best.

Was this manipulation? Was I truly engaging in a mind game with an adult at such a young age? In my mind the internal voice kept telling me to sit at that table in time out. To just wait it out. To see what happens. Who would break first? Not Ernie. That is what I did. It was a small event that essentially meant nothing, but in my mind, I can still relive it and feel the same emotions I felt then. I needed to show these people that though they could physically put me in restraints, it didn’t change a damn thing.

As an adult I saw the same behavior in a woman I call my twin. She seems to have many of the same thought processes and beliefs that I do. She struggles with boundaries and guidelines. She finds life to be mundane at best most days. She wonders why in the hell someone with so much mental energy has to be caged in such a dull environment. I stood in her way during a minor mincing of words we were having. I blocked her path to exit our shared kitchen. I could see her anger building. She was absolutely not going to give me a single answer at that time no matter how much I demanded it. She was appalled that I could stand in her way and physically overpower her. Though I could block her way, I could not get her to speak a single word. I could not break her. She was in control. She struggled and longed to have the ultimate sense of control. She could be physically restrained but even her living twin, the person she connects with deepest on this planet, was not going to be able to pull a single utterance from her conscious mind if she didn’t will it so. She had to win.

I saw myself in her that day. I saw an absolutely unbreakable spirit. What twinsie and I share is beyond physical, sexual, or psychological. It is deep and I cannot label it. I have never seen it in two other people. It is uniquely ours to share. We have something that the rest of this world could only dream of. I am the one person that she will ultimately break down for in this world and I am proud to be the one person that will break down for her. To take away those secure walls and expose our vibrant inner beauty. I love seeing her stand true and proud, a defiant lotus that the rest of this world doesn’t have access to. I am actually driven by being the one person that she lets in to her secretive world. That is how I define true love. I will absolutely break down and give up my sense of security and become vulnerable to share the ultimate connection with my true twin flame. I feel as though I long to both break through her every wall and to allow her to simultaneously break through every one of mine.

That is something I was seeking in this life and BPD was limiting me from sharing. A connection. The world felt alien. Until I felt someone with the same splitting, angst, core values, and pain I didn’t think I would ever find someone who would understand me. That feeling of loneliness was overwhelming and was defining my life. It left me standing alone in a crowded room.

Back to childhood, I look to an incident on the school yard. I was dangling from the monkey bars. I remember kicking my friend directly in the testicles intentionally while playing “chicken.” In my mind I knew exactly what I was doing, and I intended to kick him in the most painful area possible to drop him from that collection of steel. I was a child, I don’t know why I wanted to hurt him, but my thought was “I need to hurt this person right now.” I am still friends with him today, his name is Josh. We went on to discuss spiritual matters as adults. That day on the school yard I brought my leg forth and connected as intended right in his groin. I then remember the teacher coming to me and telling the other children that it was an accident. I bought into her story and lied about my intentions. I claimed I did it on accident. I took the teachers story and went with it. I saw that I could get away with murder. I saw that given the right social performance I could do anything and spin it as something it wasn’t.

Unfortunately, that ‘social performance’ aspect became central to my childhood. I felt like an actor much of the time. I was playing a role to get the results I wanted from every given situation. I never let even my family know the real me. I only opened up to a few core friends, and even then, I never fully opened up and showed my real core. I felt vulnerable if people were able to figure me out, so I always acted. I would pretend to be engaged in some boring TV show just to throw people off of understanding my true interests. It was like I knew I was surrounded by people that I really didn’t want to connect with so I would connect with them on things I didn’t care about so that I could then have false relationships with them. By maintaining the superficial relationship, I was in control. If I ever felt comfortable enough I would break down the superficial connection and allow a true, deep connection to exist. I can count on one hand the number of people I have ever started that process with. The people I would feel comfortable truly connecting with were special and I would show them my true vulnerabilities and interests in music, art, video games, and science on my own terms. To give them some sense of control in getting to know me was my ultimate way of letting them know that I truly loved them.

I don’t know why I complicated my social interactions so much, but I did. It was elaborate and took a lot of my thought process. It continues to do so and I do it now without conscious thought or effort. The truth is, I am able to ‘bond’ with anyone on just about anything because I have become a chameleon at blending in when needed. I can fake being interested in just about anything when needed and people automatically see me as their friend. The truth is, deep down I have not connected and with most of those people I share surface level connection I do not wish to have anything deeper. I do not wish to let them in. I genuinely have come to love all people and I actually enjoy getting to know them, but initially that wasn’t the case. Early on I simply played a role and felt completely detached emotionally from almost everyone I came into contact with. I now get my sense of well-being from being able to keep everyone calm and genuinely liking me. I don’t know why, but my personality has developed in that fashion. It seems that if someone has a problem with me I genuinely internalize it and let it gnaw at my gut deep down. On the surface, however, I have made a habit of acting completely unphased by anything no matter how harsh. It is like I feel one thing and exhibit another on the surface. My personality is complex and maybe even inappropriate.

I knew at some point my truth was my own truth. I could easily manipulate reality one way or another even as a child. I found myself in deep thought over emotions and relationships. If something was not going my way as a child I would do something like go out of my way to put myself in an obviously vulnerable position in order to gain some leverage in the form of getting an adults attention and therefor gain control over my environment when the adult found me to be in a precarious situation and would come to my rescue whether it be mentally or physically. I could use my projection of deep sadness to get adults to feel sorry for me. I could use a projection of being excited about something that everyone else found repulsive as a way to get people to back out of my personal space and think I was weird. I was in control. I was letting people in who I loved and pushing people away who I didn’t. I was learning more about those people while they learned nothing about me. It was a guaranteed safe place.

I now see my eccentric likes and dislikes as an elaborate filtering mechanism. I would put up a wall of weirdness and if someone actually tolerated getting through all of the weird parts of Ernie they had earned the right to get to know the true Ernie. They could get through and see that I am indeed a loving, caring, compassionate, gentle, altruistic human being. But first they had to wade through a sea of dead baby jokes, menstrual blood tinged cottage cheese and conspiracy theories that Ernie also finds amusing.

The good energy that makes me up is also capable of appreciating the dark side of life and finding it amusing. It is important to me that my true friends see that and know that all in all I am a good person but that I can laugh and muse at the darkness. That having no boundaries and no limits is simply my way of being truly open to experiencing every aspect of life. That being able to test my power one day doesn’t mean I want to be in control, because the very next day I might test my vulnerability. I want to experience life to it’s fullest and most extreme. I am wired that way. I want to feel fully in control while knowing fully well that ultimately I am powerless.

Looking back, it seems like a child’s cry for attention. As an adult I think that sense of control over emotional relationships gave me comfort in a way. I was more comfortable knowing that I was leading the adults on and letting them think I was a certain person when in my mind I was not that guy. I am trying to honestly explore that feeling and to see if I am indeed driven by the want to control and manipulate or if this is truly involuntary… or at least to explore what it is like living in a mind with BPD

In my first marriage I connected fairly quickly with a quiet girl who had a somewhat bumpy past. Growing up she was also left to fend for herself at times, at least that is what I gathered from the stories she told me. I connected with this girl and we spent much time together. We learned each other’s personalities, likes, and dislikes. I was not always honest in the beginning. I would, for example, say I didn’t like sea food when in reality I loved eating fish. I would choose to not like it because she didn’t like it. I would lie to connect with her. That went on for the first few months of our young relationship. I was 17 years old when I met this girl. I was still figuring out who I was, and I was forming it with another person around a process of manipulating in the context of borderline personality disorder.

The relationship had ups and downs, but early on I was the first to say “I Love You.” I was the first to make the extreme moves and then use my brain to fill in the rest later, trying to logically connect the dots. I saw this girl in a hallway in high-school and my first thoughts were “could you ever marry her, would you be with her forever, would she be the love of your life?” I immediately began planning to go all in with her after we first agreed that we were dating. I escalated things quickly and vowed to spend eternity with her because she gave me the time of day. Most people don’t think like that. I did. I was all in day one. I also at the same time felt like I would destroy her life by letting her get with such a loser like me. I wanted to love her and to save her by pushing her far away from me. The selfish part of me needed her, the selfless part of me needed her to be free.

I started off spending my every waking moment obsessing about this girl and ultimately did go on to marry her, but in the process, something strange happened as I did not understand my brain at the time. I would get comfortable with her and things would be going well, and I would assume that I was not doing enough or good enough for her. I would then create tension and angst in the relationship and pressure her away from me. I would push and push. Because I was not perfect. I would always assume that there was some flaw or fault in myself that just wasn’t good enough and I would use it against us. I would tell her time and time again that I was not good enough for her and that I was a pile of garbage and that she could do better. That was my depression seeping in and it was not a valid thought. The example that I read from a person with BPD that really stuck with me is this: “I could see a person begging for money. If I didn’t give them money I would kick myself for being selfish. If I did give them money I would kick myself for not giving enough.” It was like no matter what I gave it was never enough. I was wired to believe that my all out best effort was going to fall short and therefor I was doomed to be a piece of trash.

The pattern of constantly self-loathing and memorizing disparaging remarks created emotional turmoil and I would then push my partner away and reel her back in. This happened over and over again. It was exhausting. It resulted in significant damage. My personality was unstable enough that she never knew what she was going to get. She spent her time going out of her way to keep me from going insane and I constantly tested boundaries. What would she truly tolerate? Did she love me enough to put up with this? Unfortunately, this also enabled the borderline behavior to exacerbate. It went from something that I was doing at age 5 as an experiment to something that I couldn’t control as an adult. My emotions had become out of my control and they were being used to shape relationships in my life. It was chaotic and seemed a bit peculiar when compared with the way other people seemed to feel.

I have often felt alien and alone in this world. I felt that other people could not possibly feel so disconnected to their fellow man while fully knowing that they are indeed human themselves. Now reading the literature, I am encouraged that many people feel just like me. Alien. Robotic. Foreign. They have unknowingly programmed themselves to inappropriately use emotions to influence relationships as some sort of response to stress. The problem with BPD is, by the time it is active and roaring, it is too late to look back. It becomes the norm. The ego is established and without a great deal of introspection, guilt, pain, and rethatching, identifying these things as maladaptive can seem undefeatable. As a young adult I lost control of my emotions quite a bit and I was a bit all over the place. I didn’t recognize why, or even see it as a problem. It was just me. I would have outbursts of anger at others, at myself, at friends, and at family. Relationships would seem to be crashing to me when others had no clue what I was even focusing on. I would sometimes just stay quiet and disappear. I remember that was my way of quitting bands or quitting jobs… I would simply stop showing up, stop answering phonecalls, and just cease to exist. I would back out of relationships rather than face the conflict of admitting that perhaps it was time that I moved on.

I didn’t want to face the conflict in person, eye to eye. I didn’t want to let anyone down. I truly wanted to give my all to make everyone happy, but at the same time, a part of me was dying inside by continuing to be fake. I felt like an actor. I felt like I couldn’t simply stand up sometimes and say “this music we are making isn’t what I want to make” and walk away. I wanted to be in control of the writing and creative process but instead I would remain silent in the background playing drums and flexing to keep others happy. All the while, my unhappiness was boiling over and being exhibited through my avatar (as I have come to call my body) in silence and palpable disconnection. Where other people wanted to make music to make crowds of people think they were cool, I wanted to make music that connected spiritually with myself. Sometimes my peers would view me as a weird guy just wanting to make weird music for the sake of being different, a cry for attention perhaps. That wasn’t the case. I wanted to write the kind of music that truly expressed how I was feeling.

I wanted to the go on to perform that music on my own terms in my own way for others to either appreciate or reject. I longed to connect to others through that music, but if they couldn’t appreciate it that was okay too. I felt disconnected from my bandmates who simply wanted to perform a couple of cover songs for a room full of drunks. I was not there to entertain, I was there to teach and experience. That is what interested me and ultimately why I wanted to quit every band I was ever in. I have not been able to find another person who feels the same way, of wanting to create something that we can all connect on at a visceral level.

I would give my all to writing and performing drum and vocal parts for some of the bands I was in over the years. I would try to contribute my musings through ironic lyrics and nuanced drum fills. All the while I felt underappreciated. I felt like I was just a guy who was there to fill in where any drummer could just sit in. I felt that my views on the world and lyrics weren’t taken seriously, as much as they were written in satire, that is the seriousness that I intended. To satirically point out the ridiculous nature of heavy metal’s backbone which is isolating and pushing people away more and more as they seek the next “legit” band and scoff at “posers.” I wanted to bring these people together and give them a sense of “maybe we’re all in the same boat and we should just have a good time” rather than worrying about how freaking gay breakdowns and hardcore dancing was.

I lost music somewhere along the way because I could never find like-minded people to play it with. I wanted to simply connect. I wanted to make music for the sake of music, connection, love, solidarity, and to express our feelings with the human experience. I didn’t want to replicate what other people were already doing. I didn’t want to entertain a room full of people on a Friday night. I didn’t want a free bar tab or a backstage pass. I didn’t want paid for a single gig. I just wanted to see who else was feeling what I was feeling. I still want that, but I don’t know where to look.

Moving on, ultimately, I went on to end my first marriage and I had reasoned that there was just too much damage done and that there was no way to mend from the amount of times I had pushed and pulled this girl. I also had begun falling in love with another girl who happened to share many personality traits with me: the aforementioned twinsie. I finally felt that deep connection with another human being that I had been seeking for so long, and it was on the tail end of me trying to come to the conclusion that I was in fact not human refuse.

That connection that I mention is a key part of my personality. It is central to my sense of well-being that I be understood, appreciated, and loved by someone else. I never recognized that before. I was so caught up in self-loathing that I honestly believed that I was not worth loving. I have read that this is common in those with BPD. A sense of being the one person that cannot be loved, appreciated, respected, or connected with has become central to many of us. We have developed maladaptive personalities as a response to absurd stimuli in the setting of distinctive genetics.

Western society has us filing through as caged animals. We are in fact mammals. We are designed by nature to eat, sleep, reproduce, and dominate. We have done a good job of dominating our environment. We are now at the top of the food chain on this planet, Earth. We human-beings are the apex predators and because of that we sometimes lose touch with our true inner animal. It is like the alcoholic who is 10 years sober who has that one drink, he is suddenly rushed back in to that cycle of drinking. Day after day and starting over at square one.

Human beings are complex social creatures. We thrive in settings of love. True love and empathy are the only ingredients necessary to produce positive results. We must love our children and nurture them. We must find ways to break down their walls and get through to them and let them know that we truly love them no matter what. That is the only ingredient needed for a successful life. Love. We must support them and bear with them as they learn this process of living.

I now realize that I am a valuable human being and that I do deserve to be loved. Unfortunately, it took me a very long time to realize this. It seems so simple, and on the surface, it is. But even with all of the logic in the world, my emotions would never allow me to love myself. I could have come in with this first, but it may have poisoned my understanding of life. I may have not gained the knowledge and insight that I have had I not suffered.

The worst decision I could have made in my life was to begin using chemicals to “shut my brain off” as I always called it. I began drinking heavily or taking sleeping pills to just go to sleep at the end of the day. The constant struggle of never feeling good enough or worth living. Studies clearly show the prevalence of alcohol and drug abuse with BPD. For me it was the option to turn off the torture generator in my head to drink enough alcohol to sleep. I wasn’t doing this to destroy my marriage, my career, or to hurt anyone. Ultimately it did cause a lot of strain and did cause stress on the things I valued. I didn’t choose alcohol over life, I chose shutting off painful thoughts over suicide. I was just wanting an off switch from the reality that I was interpreting as so painful. People don’t realize that. I feel sorry that people view it as a personal attack when I say reality hurts. I don’t mean it that way. I also don’t mean to ask for their sympathy. I simply want to live and let live. I will get by, I am strong, I have faith in me and I want others to have the same.

I was able to stop drinking alcohol and focus on myself early in 2018. But at that time, I was not really even thinking about the BPD, I was more focused on depression or bipolar disorder. I stopped drinking and started really focusing on myself through exercise and diet. I wasn’t aware of how my personality disorder played into my mood disorder. It was a chaotic dance of sorts. There were nuances of mania and depression rearing their heads with this an almost flat affect I had developed. I found everything in life to be absurd and treated life as though I were a stand-up comedian just musing on my observations. I kept a straight face. Only the most extreme things could cause me to truly laugh. I somehow inappropriately (or maybe appropriately, this is subjective) attached laughter with absurdity.

I was able to see the humor in everything. There was absolutely nothing off limits. My extreme personality allowed me to explore extreme topics. I had watched clips of people being hurt and killed and essentially found the ridiculousness of it all to allow me to laugh. My brain had seemingly wired a circuit to find absurdity funny, so I could escape the true pain that it was causing me. We see people get kicked in the scrotum on MTV all day and laugh at it, this is a light version of what I am describing. Having access to all things human via the internet I desensitized myself to the most extreme of human behaviors. I have seen video footage of a man being beaten to death with a hammer. I have seen a chainsaw beheading video. Even worse, I have heard a chainsaw beheading video.

When I honestly put myself in that man’s shoes whose lifeless body is gurgling for wind from some prehistoric reflex I feel the pain of the human condition. I am able to know that I am mortal. I will die. I will cease to exist in the form of Ernie one day. I have been face-to-face with death as a young child raised by elderly distant relatives, and I have watched other human beings take their last breath as a hospice nurse. I have hunted deer and geese. I have taken the life from a dove and consumed her flesh. It is a chaotic balance of energy that I have been a part of in this very real chain of events.

The will to power, the longing to be in control takes a darker turn at times. So for me to make the decision to take another sentient being’s life in order to eat, I now must question what that truly means. As a 33-year-old white male in America I am surrounded by meat and cheese. Lives lost for the sake of contributing energy back into the circle of life. It all comes back to me and I can feel so clearly the morning I first took the life of a white-tailed deer.

I was camped out in my tree stand. I was dressed like a redneck in camo and I had hiked into some fall scenery right out of a Mark Twain novel. I was sitting silently and waiting for motion. When I finally heard the crushing of leaves my heart began to race. This is it. This is the moment I have been waiting for. To kill this sentient being. The hunt was on.

I saw two does playfully wondering through a sparse patch of thin trunked trees. The leaves were golden and red. They were almost dancing with one another. They hadn’t noticed me but I watched them come into my field of vision. I moved and one of the does looked up. She made eye contact with me. Her tail flipped up. White flag! She was ready to run. She was afraid. I drew my bow and let loose an arrow into the distance.

There was a calamity of hooves and cracking leaves. My heart was racing and there was sweat on my brow. I could smell autumn. I was one with the nature scene I had very realistically painted myself into. I rushed down from my latter clumsier than I would like to admit and began taking large gallop-like steps toward a creek bed. I could see a faint trail of blood on the ground guiding me to where this injured creature must be. It was like I looked up and there she was. Right in front of me. I was on top of her and didn’t even see her. She appeared out of nowhere.

She was lying in a shallow creek bed making labored breaths. Begging mother nature for her life. I pulled my 9mm side arm from my waist and did what I thought was the right thing at the time. I mercifully killed her by shooting her in the head. To end her suffering. My adrenaline was coursing through my body and I could not imagine what my next move was. I picked up the lifeless doe that was once dancing with her friend and threw her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I carried her out of the woods like a “real man” and disrespectfully threw her body in the back of my hatch back ford focus. Her eyes were glazed over and her tongue fell out the right side of her mouth.

I brought her to my home and removed her skin. I hung her from her hind legs in my shed with some bailing twine that was laying around and I opened YouTube videos on how to butcher a deer. I called my friend Gabe to see if he had a knife, he was too drunk to help me dress my kill.

I began hacking parts off of this majestic creature’s body with an axe and a dull kitchen knife. I had already purchased butchers paper and I broke down the meat the best I could with the guidance of Youtube. I turned on a death metal album by Cannibal Corpse to get me in a disgusting mindset as I butchered away. I needed the distraction in order to complete the job. My now ex-wife came home to find blood on the back porch and door knob and she knew “Ernie got a deer.” What the fuck does it even mean? I got one.

We went on to incorporate this fresh meat into our cooking for the rest of that year and I even tried to consume the organ meats with Gabe as to not waste any of the animal. Looking back it seems so barbaric and out of character for me. I don’t think I could ever pull the trigger again or let another arrow fly. The sanctity of life is not something that I wish to choose when it shall end. All life is sacred in This consciousness. That is what I have come to appreciate. I know others struggle with it and take it lightly, but I have intimately been there. I have danced with death and I know every callus lunge.

To me, now, the thought of being able to obtain a permit to hunt and end a life is absurd. Of course, creatures need to eat. But I am looking at this planet as a whole. How can human beings simply choose what life is sacred and what life is not? We fish the oceans dry. Why must we consume those things with sentience in order to survive? I don’t believe it is necessary at this point. That seems a bit misguided to me to think that it is entirely just sack after sack of matter and therefore vitamins and nutrients. Sure, I have stomped out an ant hill, I have crushed a fly. But what gives me that right? I believe as a human being we are blessed and cursed to know that life is finite. I do not wish to be a god amongst plebeians.

Knowing that my true moral code is to love all life and to appreciate it and hold it in high regard is paramount to my existence. I can then, unfortunately, explore the very opposite of this notion. That life is not sacred. That this existence is pointless and meaningless. That we are simply chemical reactions. The view of materialists is that we are a complex series of reactions. While I don’t believe this to be accurate, I have had my brain chemistry altered to the point that I almost believed it.

I had a short stent of taking the drug Abilify for an episode of mania and panic. I was started on this in-patient and continued it for about a week after hospitalization. Honestly, within a few days of being on the drug I felt no emotional attachment to my wife of so many years. I also believe, however, my true emotional attachment to her had waxed and waned over the previous years as my personality disorder pushed and pulled my life. While on Abilify I was able to make cold and rigid decisions without any emotional repercussions. I truly feel I could have strangled somebody to death and not felt any remorse on that medication. Is it simply the neurotransmitters in our brains that regulate our sense of right and wrong or are we tuning into something greater like a collective consciousness?

Through the years professionally and personally I have chronically had angst about my performance or accomplishments. I would always immediately downplay my performance and know that I could do better. Until I drastically modified my lifestyle and stopped drinking alcohol I was headed toward self-destruction. Having our neurotransmitters out of balance is like tuning a piano with an out of tune reference. I don’t know how to better describe it. It is like interpreting the world through a faulty interpretation device. Nature provides us the tools to perfectly balance and calibrate our interpretation device if we are willing to take the time and effort.

In this eastern society it does take time and effort to calibrate your device. In the wild it would not. You would not worry about being depressed or manic in the wild for a number of reasons. The cycle would have simply played out as it should. In our artificial reality that we have constructed with these cities and roadways, we have to take the time to get back to nature if we want balance. We need to re-calibrate our brains. We need to balance our neurotransmitters.

Our neuro-endocrine systems naturally produce everything we need if they are functioning properly. In order to function properly they need the correct environment. Our biology is specifically fine-tuned to allow us to thrive in whatever given setting we happen to arise from. We are at a point in which we are modifying our environment faster than evolution can catch up with and thus we have the central disconnected feeling that comes out as angst and turmoil. Identifying this and utilizing our strengths to fit into our own lives on an individual level is the prescribed treatment. There is no one size fits all plan.

Neuro-endocrinology functions optimally when given appropriate ingredients and in human beings those ingredients can be obtained from plant sources, water, and of course love. In order to best fuel our bodies optimally we should be eating a vegan diet which is free of processed foods, hormones, antibiotics, and suffering. When we eat food, we are eating the building blocks of our body and mind. Food is information essentially. What we take in builds what we are. This is important. The fuel we run on is central to our functioning at our best.

Looking at myself now, I am obsessed with telling the truth and being accurate. I want to live a life that I am proud of and therefor hold no secrets. I want to connect with another human being on an intimate level in which I tell her no lies. I want to be as open and forth coming as possible. The ultimate vulnerability. The payoff, is the ultimate relationship. It is important that we all begin to shift our culture to a culture of openness. We should be proud of who we are. We should be able to express our deepest desires and interests freely.

If we have something to hide, it is likely leading to negative karma. This is how I weigh my karma. When I do something I ask myself, “Is this something you would feel proud to tell everyone in this world?” If it is not, there is a better option. It is important as a species as we continue to evolve spiritually and emotionally that we understand this internal compass and respect it. We need to always bend to the will of the internal compass and listen to it in order to have the most fulfilling lives. If your gut tells you not to do something, you seriously need to stop and reconsider that decision. Take time. Make the right choice. To truly work through this process is grueling but it will lead to the ultimate transcendence.

The ultimate will to power is to give up complete control. Give your life over to the laws of the universe. To love without questioning “what is in it for me?” to give without wondering “do they appreciate it?” to teach others to better themselves and stop judging them for what they aren’t. Start seeing human beings for their potential. To push forth and get every bit of positivity out of our fellow-man’s soul. To not wonder “how am I going to get by” and just wonder “how can I help someone else get by.”

That is what I am striving for. I will post this long post for free, relatively unedited, though it feels like it should probably be in some sort of BPD and spirituality book or something. I know that in my life the Universe will provide for me food, shelter, wisdom, and love if I stay on the right path. I have that faith. I am following it with open mind, open heart, and open soul.

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theamazingsallyhogan · 7 years ago

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In the months since I’ve started watching it, My Hero Academia has quickly become my favorite battle shonen series. It’s not particularly mold-breaking; it uses the same genre tropes as most other series of its ilk. Its main strength is that it brings the genre’s strengths to the forefront, with a supremely likable ensemble cast and exciting battles, while leaving behind many of the genre’s typical weaknesses. One of battle shonen’s greatest struggles has long been how to incorporate its female characters, and My Hero Academia handles the situation with rare grace and aplomb. However, no work of art is free of biases, and while My Hero Academia avoids many issues associated with the genre, there are still many sexist biases deeply encoded in the series.

“Battle shonen” refers to the subgenre of action-driven manga aimed at boys that focus on battles between characters, as the name implies, and are structured around arcs with the series’ overarching goal being only vaguely defined, if at all. They’re dominated by a number of conventions the audience have come to expect, such as a young male protagonist with a core group of friends, a rival, tournament and training arcs, and a series of increasingly powerful villains. Popular battle shonen like Naruto, One Piece, Bleach, and Fairy Tale can run for decades. My Hero Academia is a relatively new entry to the genre, drawing much of its inspiration from Western superhero narratives and synthesizing that with the typical ideas of the genre.

These series have long tended to struggle with what to do with their female characters. They are often introduced early in the series, when the protagonist has yet to set themselves apart from the pack, and become part of the core cast. However, as the male protagonist gets more and more powerful, the girls on their team often lag behind them in ways that the boys don’t. They become relegated to healers or support duties, but rarely get the spotlight in battle. They get designated female enemies to fight against, before they are neatly removed from the conflict. They become damsels for the boys to rescue. On the rare occasions that women are powerful fighters or mentors, they are often sexualized to the point of disrespect.

My Hero Academia neatly sidesteps most of these issues by treating its female characters as interesting, integral members of the ensemble cast. They have varied, likable personalities and appearances, with useful quirks that make them valuable contributors to the team both in and out of battle. No one embodies this more than Ochaco Uraraka, Izuku’s cheerful friend with the ability to make things float. She’s a clear choice for the love interest – a friendly girl-next-door type who meets Izuku by using her quirk to prevent him from tripping and falling on the day of the entrance exam – and he does indeed develop a crush on her. Despite his feelings, friendship defines their relationship, rather than attraction, and they thus far remain close but platonic. His crush on her is so secondary to their camaraderie that it’s easy to forget that it even exists. Such relationships between male and female characters are rare in any genre, but I honestly can’t remember last time I saw it in a battle shonen series; they tend to be mentor-student or focused mainly on romantic feelings. Rather than treating her as a means to an end or an object of Izuku’s affection, mangaka Horikoshi writes Ochaco as a person first, with same amount of interiority and individuality as any of the male characters.

The aniblogger sphere has heaped praise on the episode “Bakugo vs. Uraraka” for its approach to pitting Ochaco against Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku’s longtime rival, and for good reason. Bakugo, whose quirk allows him to combust his sweat made of nitroglycerin, is one of the most powerful and dangerous competitors in their school’s sports festival tournament. Izuku tries to help Ochaco by coming up with a strategy for her to fight him, worried that she’ll be immediately and thoroughly beaten by the volatile Bakugo. She enters the ring with a quavering smile that fails to cover up her nervousness. Once the fight gets going, it becomes clear that she never needed Izuku’s help; she develops her own strategy based around getting Bakugo to blow up the ground and making the rubble float above his head, crashing down at a key moment. She’s a bright girl who has been using her quirk for close to a decade; she is perfectly capable of coming up with her own strategy.

It seems possible that Horikoshi scripted this fight specifically to call out the sexism endemic to the genre. As the fight continues and Ochaco takes explosion after explosion, the onlookers jeer at Bakugo, angry at him for “picking on” her and imploring her to send her out of bounds. Ochaco is cute and harmless-looking, causing them to perceive her as less capable. Their teacher Aizawa jumps onto the mic, calling them out: “Was that a pro saying he’s playing around? How many years have you been a pro? If you’re saying that with a straight face, there’s no point in you watching anymore, so go home! Go home, and look into changing careers! Bakugo is being careful because he’s acknowledged the strength of an opponent who has made it this far. It’s because he’s doing everything he can to win that he can’t go easy on her or let his guard down.” Ochaco may be cute and lacking in raw physical power, but she has made it this far on her own strength; the audience asking him to knock her out because they’re uncomfortable seeing her fighting all-out against a clearly powerful male opponent is selfish and disrespectful, on top of making assumptions and not taking her seriously. Aizawa points out their implicit biases, that they assume she is not a worthy opponent because she is female, and this particular bias rears its ugly head over and over in battle shonen as the female characters are relegated to the sidelines. Even after the fight, their classmates tease Bakugo for looking like a villain beating up on a frail girl – it’s still an uphill battle for female fighters to be taken as seriously as male ones.

It’s not hard to see why the characters would assume girls are weaker; there’s plenty of in-universe evidence to uphold that. Thus far, we’ve only met four female professional heroes: the elderly healer Recovery Girl, Mount Lady, Uwabami, and Midnight, compared to about a dozen male professionals. In the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, not a single villain is female. Even in Class 1-A, under ⅓ of the students are female. In early planning stages, it was only four; two of them, Tohru and Tsuyu, were originally planned to be male. He changed them to make the gender balance more even, but that did not come close to fixing the problem. The rest of the school appears to suffer from the same imbalance. It’s an oft-quoted statistic that men perceive groups as majority-female once more than ⅓ are women, and My Hero Academia perpetuates that issue.

My Hero Academia has a relatively low level of fan service for the genre, especially compared to series like One Piece and Fairy Tail, which delight in regularly displaying the mostly-naked bodies of their female cast. The aforementioned Mount Lady and Midnight are both highly fetishized; Mount Lady, a literal giantess, introduces herself with a coy, “Nice to make your ass-quaintance!” and Midnight bases her whole aesthetic around sadomasochism, with the epithet “The R-Rated Hero” and a flog whip as a weapon. Uwabami makes her much of her living as a TV celebrity and hires her female interns on the basis of their looks. While the students of Hero Academy are quite realistically proportioned, those two are very busty with costumes that highlight their curves. Class A’s Mineta is particularly an affront, so much so that hating him has become a meme on social media. He routinely attempts touch or peep on his classmates without their consent. While the girls may retaliate, especially Tsuyu, these moments are played off as jokes. When he tricks the girls into dressing in cheerleader uniforms, they become angry, but they continue to wear them anyway, to the delight of the boys in the class.

A look through the series’ supplementary material reveals more of Horikoshi’s biases. Each character receives ratings in five different areas, including power, speed, technique, intelligence, and cooperation. Across the board, the girls of Class 1-A have low ratings in power, with an average of only 1.83 out of five, and high ratings in cooperation. While the female cast is truly a delight and I enjoy how they’ve worked together in risky situations, I’d love to see a female character as ornery and temperamental as Bakugo. Instead, this continues to prop up the stereotype that women are naturally better at working together than men, and that they must be sweet and gregarious. In a universe where the majority of people have supernatural powers, there is no reason for a lack of physical strength among the female cast as well. Many of the male characters’ quirks are so powerful we never see them throw a punch, including Todoroki, one of Izuku’s chief rivals. Even if you buy into the idea that women simply lack the physical strength of men, it would be simple for a girl to have a power that strong in combat.

These criticisms are not meant as an indictment of Horikoshi or My Hero Academia; everyone has biases they subconsciously insert into their work. “Bakugo vs. Uraraka” demonstrates a level of awareness that most battle shonen lack in addition to an effort to improve how girls are portrayed in these kinds of stories. Coexisting with the issues discussed above doesn’t make Horikoshi a hypocrite, nor should it necessarily reduce anyone’s enjoyment and excitement all the show’s myriad strengths.

My Hero Academia is a delightful series, and it has merited much of the praise it has received. However, that does not mean it’s immune to criticism or doesn’t have its own unconscious biases encoded in it. Weekly Shonen Jump’s readership is almost at parity; while it may be aimed primarily at boys, its writers and editors should still be aware of the female readers and takes steps toward inclusiveness. My Hero Academia is so close, but we should not simply ignore or excuse its shortcomings.

As someone that hasn’t gotten terribly far into this series (running since 2014), I’m curious what people that have gotten further think.

So far, I’m less forgiving than the author of this piece. Horikoshi created a world where the majority of the overall population have superpowers, but the superhero population is almost entirely male. It’s Deku’s story so obviously he gets the spotlight, but there’s a huge gulf between the male and female supporting cast. When All-Might needed a rescue (against an all-male group of assassins), it was the boy students that rushed to his side. Fukigkage dispatched of Momo (supposedly the top-scoring female student) and Mina with casual ease. There’s regular speeches about things like the “fiery passion of youth” and “fated rivalries” directed just toward the boys. I mean, I’ve seen “battle shounen” treat girls worse, but something so basic shouldn’t get graded on a curve. Does it get better?

#boku no hero academia #My Hero Academia #BNHA #Long Post #Representation

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tipsycad147 · 3 years ago

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Fruiting: Full Moon Ritual & Healing Practices

Living in a space shared with several fruit trees, the various seasons of fruiting means that I’m daily visiting with the tree spirits, to touch, smell, and listen to their journey of maturation. Buds grow thick skin and stretch outward filling up with the sweet food within. It always seems that fruit is hard until it is not - all of a sudden it is soft and ripe. For me, that sudden softness of fruit come to ripeness is the energy of the Full Moon. While there is always variety in how it plays out because of the unique flavors of whatever sign the Moon is in, the culminating energy of the Full Moon is one that follows a pattern of focus and tension that suddenly falls back into softness, openness, and possibility. With the Full Moon the altar is overflowing with fruit and abundance, and we can feast with hearts open and souls ready for nourishment.

Let’s explore together the magick of the Full Moon, calling in plants as teachers and bringing simple ritual and divination practice into our lives. At the height of the Moon cycle the Moon is at its fullest and most mature, casting its brightest light and acting as the mirror to the energies felt at the Dark Moon. What was in shadow is revealed and understood anew. Expansion, release, openness are all key energies of the Full Moon, and the days surrounding this time are ripe with possibility of celebration, fertile opportunity, and completion of a phase.

Herbal Traditions

In Traditional Western Herbalism, the Full Moon is considered a time of cold and dry herbs. If we were to think of the Moon phase as a cycle of building a sacred structure, we would be at the point of the process of cooling and maintaining dryness to allow for a more sturdy and structurally sound building to stand (this coming after the after the heating and drying energies of the Waxing Quarter Moon that helped us to build the walls of our temple). At the Full Moon a temple space is ready to be lived and loved and held in. Or to bring us further into the garden with our metaphor, the compost of the Moon cycle has cooled and dried out enough to be used throughout the garden.

There are many ways to approach a Moon, though, and I encourage you to be guided by your studies, your cultural stories, and your intuition. Think about plants which help you feel open, soft, and at ease. Plants that are exuberant in their flowers, greenery, and/or fruiting plants - all hold Full Moon qualities. Plant allies that help you feel alive and connected with the world are wonderful, too. As you work with plants and the Moon cycle, always prize creativity and curiousity in re-membering yourself back into relationship with our plant teachers and guides.

Examples of Full Moon Herbs: Rose (Rosa spp.), Mugwort (Artemisia vulgaris), Lemon Balm (Melissa officinalis), Jasmine (Jasminum officinale), Sage (Salvia officinalis).

Rose (Rosa spp)

Rose is an ancestor plant with fossils found across Europe, North America, and Asia dating back from as early as the Miocene period (7 - 26 million years ago). This is a plant which has observed our development as a species and it isn't surprising that Rose is often associated with gentle parenting and mothering energies and deities. Call on Rose when you need a surrogate parent in your life - when you need to be held and protected to help you get in touch with your vulnerability. Rose is a beautiful ally in learning to treat yourself (and others) with ease and gentleness.

As a plant of Venus, Rose brings harmony to any situation as well as assists in harmonizing the energies of herbal preparations and those who use them. I love to use the flowers and hips in teas and tinctures, herbal oils and especially as a hydrosol or floral water. Rose has an incredible quality of helping us to become comfortable with the skin we’re in, working on phsyical and energetic levels to help us come home to our physical selves. Since it is a thorn plant we also know that it has protective qualities - adding Rose into your daily beauty blends can help to strengthen your psychic boundaries from unwanted energetic intrusions (I’m looking at you, microaggressions).

Connecting with the Traditional Western Herbalism correspondence of cool and dry herbs for the Full Moon, Rose fits both of those profiles. Rose is an excellent remedy for various forms of inflammation (bringing cooling qualities to overheated conditions) and as an astringent it acts as a plant which tones damp states in the body (such as excess oil production on the skin) bringing us into a state of balance. Hildegard von Bingen - herbalist, mystic, language creator, composer, and philosopher - writes of Rose's cooling and drying qualities recommending that one place Rose petals on the eyes in the morning to refresh them and draw out any imbalance in the bodily humours. The use of Rose medicinally is vast, so spend some time with your favorite plant books to learn more.

What I love about using Rose in Full Moon magick is that it helps to reassure our selves on a soul level that "I might not know everything, but I know enough to experience the abundant magick of this moment." It helps us to value mystery as something not to be solved, but experienced, which in turns helps us to settle into our joy and the appreciation of what we (and our community) has accomplished so far. Let's apply this Rose magick to recent events. So we all know that 2020 was a year and we're not out of it yet. The magick of Rose with its many-petaled wisdom helps us to recognize the layers of 2020 - there was extraordinary pain and suffering alongside the largest, most diverse, and most intergenerational global movement for a more kind and more just world that there has ever been in our recorded history as a species. Real change is already happening and the momentum of these movements is only going to keep rolling as we move beyond this pandemic. And the world we’re dreaming of can also feel so very, very far away. Rose helps us to hold all of these realities and get deep into the abundance of hope without having to write a thesis in our minds on why this hope will or will not fail us or why we deserve this hope in the first place. Rose just says "open up, be soft, settle in'' because we can have this moment (and better it be when the Moon is full*) without having to know what comes next or even what exactly has gone before.

I've written about Rose a lot, here is one of my favorite Rose recipes, and if you're an empath or highly sensitive person, Rose might be a good ally for you to work with.

Altars + Rituals

Decorate your altar with round and soft objects, things which help you to soften in turn. Unbind your hair. Wear soft and/or loose clothing. Practice rituals of celebrating our inner child and supporting the process of re-parenting. Water and cauldron spells, spells featuring song, rituals of abundance, hope, and self-worth. As an offering, consider the ways that you can create ease in the lives of others from home-cooked meal, a donation of time or money, small gifts which you know will bring someone laughter and a moment of levity. Learn about the sign that the Moon is in for more specific ideas and recommendations.

A Simple Full Moon Ritual

To help you open up to the possibility of your own becoming

Begin by creating sacred space in whatever way is meaningful for you.

On your altar place a bowl of Rose petals, whole flowers, and/or hips. Next to the bowl of Roses, place a bowl of salt water representing the ocean from which all life emerged. If you can charge this bowl of water before your rite with Full Moon energy by holding it up to the light of the Moon. Alternatively, because light pollution, quarantine or physical inhibitions may not allow for charging your water directly with the light of the Moon, place a silver colored coin at the bottom of your water bowl to represent the Moon's light and power. Whether with the assistance of the tarot spread below or other reflective practice, come up with a simple phrase that expresses a part of you or your life that you want to soften and open up to. Keep it simple, affirmative and easy to recite (i.e. I open up to more healthy and authentic self-expression).

Take a few centering breaths and begin to focus on your intention for the ritual - opening up to the possibility of the moment. Pick up the bowl of Roses, taking a moment to smell them, notice their color and form, and consider the complexity of life that led them to come into being. Holding them at your heart, begin to visualize a Rose blooming into a wide, open, soft flower. Feel this same blooming from within your own heartbody and say:

As the Rose opens, I open As the Rose blooms, I bloom As the Rose knows, I know myself And all my possibilities

Take a Rose bloom (or petal or hip) and dip it in the Moon water. Anoint your brow, your heart, and whatever part of you that you choose. It is ok to let the water run on your skin for a moment, paying attention to how water quickly adapts to the shape and curves of your body. Becoming soft in our own wisdom and possibility is an act of shifting shapes, perceptions, and expected form into a place that is more vulnerable, more curious, and more able to meet the moment exactly where one is at. Breathing deeper into your openness and rubbing the Rose and Moon water into your skin, an invisible charm to carry with you in the Moon cycle ahead, say:

As I open, I bloom As I bloom, I know As I know, I soften, I dream, I flow

Repeat this charm until you feel your own flow then speak the simple phrase of openness you've written for yourself. You might feel called to speak it, sing it, move with it several times - honor your flow. When you're ready give thanks to the water and Roses, making sure to hold on to this feeling of openness, knowing that you can revisit this state of flow at any time by connecting with Rose. Close the rite and be sure to either offer your water and Roses to the land or use them in other appropriate and respectful ways.

A Simple Full Moon Tarot Spread

To help you open up to the magick of nourishing softness.

You're encouraged to adapt the following spread in ways that make it more useful for you including using the questions for journaling or meditation instead of divination. I like to cast these cards or journal as at the start of my Full Moon ritual - the reading can help guide my ritual and how I open up. Or use this spread for whenever you need more insight into an area of tension in your life. For those of you who thrive with variety and multi-faceted storytelling feel free to pull cards from multiple tarot and oracle decks for each question.

Card 1 · Tension What is a source of tension in my life that I should be paying attention to?

Card 2 · Softness How can I soften this tension? What tools, skills, people, and/or places can help me in release this tension?

Card 3 · Openness What is calling me to openness? When I become softer what am I able to open up to?

Card 4 · Nourishment What is a source of nourishment for me? How does softness and openness nourish me?

Card 5 · Story The overall message of the Full Moon in your life. If you are familiar with your birth chart and how to find the transiting Moon in your chart this card can help you to understand the message of the Full Moon in the context of where it lands in your chart.

So begins a new series! The idea for this series of lunar magick and herbalism was requested by my patrons who support me in keeping the majority of the work that I do free and open to everyone.

I’ll be writing about other phases of the Moon in the months ahead but there is plenty of lunar-oriented reading for you to enjoy in the meantime, from a full years journey through the healing potential of the New Moons, Moon-inspired slow magick and a tea I thought was the worst but turned out not to be, a deep dive into what a lunar return is and how to find your own, and a course about your own Moon-centered magick.

http://www.wortsandcunning.com/blog/full-moon-ritual-and-healing

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