#i may go out of order and answer easier questions (those that don’t require research or sitting down to watch a film) first

[multiplicity-positivity]

Switching Tips and Info

Hello! We’ve often said here that for our system, switching is involuntary and happens automatically or with the help of our gatekeeper. However, we often get asked here about switching, how it works, how to practice switching, and how to switch for the very first time. In general, we’re probably unequipped to confidently answer these questions. But we’ve decided to put together this post with information we’ve picked up from therapy, research, and learning from other systems. We hope this can help you and your system learn to switch more effortlessly!

Disclaimer: We are not an expert or clinician by any stretch of the word! We are one DID system sharing our experience and information we’ve picked up during our time in treatment and system spaces. This post comes from the perspective of a system with DID, though much of this advice could be potentially useful for all sorts of systems!

What is switching?

Switching is a common occurrence in systems when one headmate swaps places with another in order to perceive and interact with the world. Systems of all sorts can switch, not just those with dissociative disorders like DID or OSDD! Switching can look incredibly different from system to system, and may vary based on a wide variety of factors such as:

System origin

Previous history with switching

Degree of dissociative barriers

Comfort levels with fronting and switching for each headmate

The presence of a system manager or gatekeeper

Safety of the system overall

And more!

Do all systems switch?

No, not every system wants to switch or is capable of switching! Many systems exist with one primary fronter and many headmates who either cofront, are coconscious, or never front to experience the outside world at all. Switching is not a requirement to be a system, and it’s not even a requirement to have a dissociative disorder.

Many systems may find that headmates have switched before without noticing it! Before a system’s “syscovery,” headmates may lose time, experience identity shifts, or interact with other system members without ever realizing that they’re plural. In fact, an overwhelming majority of systems with disorders like DID and OSDD are covert, meaning their switches and other symptoms often go unnoticed by other people or the systems themselves!

How can I switch with my headmates?

We don’t have any surefire way to guarantee switching, as every system is unique and no two systems function in exactly the same way! However, here are some ideas for you and your headmates to try in order to help a switch occur.

1. Open communication

Communicate with as many headmates as you can on a regular basis. Keep an open dialogue, and talk to your headmates about fronting, what that might look like for them, and any worries they have about potentially fronting in the future. Try to address each headmate’s fears and concerns to the best of your ability before expecting them to front. Imagine together what it might look like for other headmates to front. Try to understand what happens to headmates in your system who aren’t fronting: do they enter your system’s headspace/inner world? Do they stop fully existing or enter a sort of stasis? Are they still able to perceive the outside world at all? Having a stable, steady line of communication and an understanding of how your system works can help make it easier to allow other headmates to front when the time comes!

2. Seek out a gatekeeper or system manager

Many, but not all, systems have members whose role is specifically to manage who fronts and control switches. Our own system has a gatekeeper who handles the majority of our switches! If you haven’t already, try to learn whether or not your system already has an established gatekeeper. If you do, establishing a connection with that headmate and communicating with them will be essential for switching in the future.

If your system doesn’t have a gatekeeper/manager, that’s fine! A headmate with this role is not required for system to experience switches. For those who do have them, however, cooperating with managers and gatekeepers can help make switching a smoother, more painless process!

3. Ensure safety

Don’t attempt to switch if your system is not 100% safe, and only try to switch after all headmates involved feel comfortable and secure. NEVER try to force a headmate to switch who doesn’t want to. Respect each other’s boundaries and rights to personal autonomy.

When you’re ready to try and purposefully switch, do so in a safe, comfortable, secluded environment. Try to limit distractions and opportunities for interruptions. Check in with headmates that you have access to, and ensure that everyone feels safe and comfortable before attempting to switch.

For minors, traumagenic systems, and those who currently live with abusers or those who have harmed them: it may be for the best to not attempt to switch until you’re in a situation where you are distanced from those who have caused you harm (be them parents, friends, loved ones, or anyone else). Unfortunately for many systems, this may mean waiting until you have moved out of your family’s home in order to put some space between you and your system’s abusers.

Trying to switch when you’re not 100% sure of your system’s safety could absolutely cause more harm than good! The safety and well-being of your system is more important than providing headmates with opportunities to purposefully switch. There will be plenty of time in your future to learn more about your system and attempt to manage switches! Until then, it’s probably best to allow your system to function in ways that ensure your safety and the safety of your headmates.

4. Use positive triggers

Positive triggers are external stimuli that can help bring certain headmates closer to the front by reminding the system about that headmate and what they enjoy. Having a wide range of positive triggers at your disposal can help make it easier to get a headmate to switch with you! Here are some examples of what positive triggers can look like:

Music for each headmate, including playlists, albums, artists, and songs

Stimboards, moodboards, inspiration boards, and other collections of images that speak out to each headmate

Cooking, preparing, or eating a food, snack, or beverage that a particular headmate enjoys

Engaging with hobbies, media, and activities that a particular headmate is known to like

And more! Get creative with your system and brainstorm different positive triggers you can incorporate into your lives in order to help facilitate switches in the future!

5. Manage expectations

Unfortunately, not all systems are able to switch. Some hosts and other frontstuck headmates may never be able to fully leave the front. Cofronting with another headmate and allowing them to make decisions and treat the body as their own can be a great way to allow other system members to front, even if it’s not a full-fledged “switch.” Switching can look incredibly different for different systems, and even for different headmates in the same system! So don’t be too discouraged if you or your frontstuck members aren’t able to switch out fully - cofronting and being coconscious are both valid ways for other headmates to experience the world.

Where can I learn more about switching?

There’s lots of information out there to help all kinds of systems start learning about or managing switches! Here are some links to websites where you can learn more.

Note: some sites which are geared towards created, spontaneous, or endogenic systems may suggest purposeful dissociation as a way to trigger a switch. While this may be useful for some systems, adding more dissociation to the lives of those already struggling with dissociative disorders is a very bad idea and should be avoided! So if you are diagnosed with a dissociative disorder (DID, OSDD, DPDR, etc.), suspect you may have a dissociative disorder, or suspect your system is trauma-formed, it may be best to avoid following advice from sites aimed towards paromacers, those with thoughtforms, and nontraumagenic systems. For everyone’s convenience, we have starred (*) links to guides which involve purposeful dissociation so systems who already have trouble with dissociation can avoid them! If you’re not sure whether or not your system has dissociation issues, it’s best to PLAY IT SAFE and avoid these kinds of guides. Please use critical thinking and your own discretion when reading about switching online!

Terminology note: some of these sites use “tulpa” language, which is known to be racist and culturally appropriative. Please keep this in mind when browsing these sites. In our personal life, we use “paro/paromancy” language instead to avoid causing further harm to marginalized groups.

Intentional Switching (DID) from DIS-SOS

Switching and Passive Influence from DID-Research.org

*Fuliam’s Guide on how to switch from Tulpa.info*

*Malfael’s Guide to Switching from Tulpanomicon*

Our own resource post for questioning systems has lots of links to resources on dissociative disorders and other forms of plurality, many of which may have sections or advice on switching!

Questions? Comments? Something we missed?

We could write whole books on the many different aspects of switching, and how switches can vary from system to system and headmate to headmate. We’re sorry if we’ve left something out here that you or your system thinks is important! This post didn’t touch on passive influence, rapid switching, physical symptoms of switching, and many other switching-related topics. This is just a general overview with some advice on switching intentionally and voluntarily!

If you have any further questions, feel free to comment on this post or send us an ask and we’d be happy to answer to the best of our ability! We may not have all the answers, but we’re happy to share what we know. If you made it this far, thanks so much for reading! Stay well, and have a great day!

#multiplicity #plurality #pluralgang #actuallyplural #long post #dissociative identity disorder #other specified dissociative disorder #partial did #osdd #did #p did #switching #trauma mention #abuse mention

[palbabor-writes]

Practicum

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT/18+ only, unbalanced/unhealthy relationships, student/teacher sex, tw.dubcon, tw.sub/dom dynamics, brat taming, fingering, masturbation, a table is pretty roughed up in this, so pls hold a brief moment of silence for it    

Words: 12,857

“So, you just want me to read from the book?”

“Yes.”

“And...answer questions?”

“That’s what I said,” Shigaraki smirks, already reaching toward his bookshelf, tugging the heavy Intro to Biology text out and shifting it into his large hands.

You bite at your lip again and pass your gaze from his amused expression to the bland cover of the textbook, debating your next move, trying to walk yourself through all the ups and downs. It’s too simple; too easy. It’s not like him. He’s got something else in mind, why else would he fucking look like that? It’s not a bad look. No, it’s a look that makes your stomach flip and head spin.

“Stop being so suspicious,” Shigaraki scolds, drawing your wandering attention back to him. “I don’t bite, that is, unless you want me to.”

Notes: the title was selected because it’s got the word cum in it. ahhh, the things that crack me up. anyhow. 

this is part of the BNHA Degeneracy server’s 9 to 5 collaboration! i had a ton of fun participating in this and thank you guys for making this so freaking awesome! special shoutout & thanks to @albinoburrito​ & @kugutsuu​ for their beta edits! this was a departure from what i usually write about and i appreciate all of your notes and help!  

Practicum prac·ti·cum /ˈpraktəkəm/ noun a practical section of a course of study

It’s your senior year, they said. Live a little, they advised. Stop and take a breather, you’re practically home free! Take some easier classes. Focus on what’s in front of you, it’ll be over before you know it! On and on and on. 

Spring semester is almost here. You’ve applied for graduation, the cap and gown ordered, and you have a shiny class ring sitting on your pinky. It’s in the bag. Just breeze through four more classes and you’re out. Well, it would be an easy shot, if you hadn’t put off this one class. 

It always popped up, so it’s not like you could plead ignorance. Your advisor warned you, each quarterly meeting, that you needed to get it out of the way. Take it seriously, he cautioned, clacking out his notes, typing down that you’d failed to heed his sage advice, again. If you wait too long, you’re not going to get the professor that you want.

That was the other problem. You’re a procrastination superstar. If there was some kinda award for putting off assignments, you’d have won it ten times over. You liked the heart pounding race to the deadline, the sleepy boasts that you’d tackled the project within hours of its due date. 

It’s a stupid habit. Every semester you promise yourself that you’ll do better. You won’t wait, you’ll tackle things one assignment at a time and turn them before the hard cut off at 11:59 pm. Who the fuck did you think you were kidding? Certainly not your friends, or your advisor. He could read you like a book. Hell, he’d even sent warnings. 

‘Don’t forget about the deadline for senior registration!’

‘You don’t want to be on a waitlist. You especially don’t want to take one of the harder professors. These are freshman level classes, they’re designed to flunk undergrads. Don’t forget (Y/N), chew them up and spit them out tactics are employed.’ 

But you had. You’d set an alarm on your phone, then neglected to give it a title, so you’d only chuckled and smacked the chirping into silence that morning, snoozing the all important deadline away. 

Fuck. 

Most of the classes for biology are wait-listed. No, scratch that, all the classes for Intro to Genetic Biology are wait-listed. You opt into the waitlist for all of them, just in case, and a week later your phone alerts you that one has an open seat. Actually, it has several open seats, too many open seats to be natural. However, you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, so for now, you’re enrolled in BIO 1208: Principles of Cell and Organismal Physiology - For Non-Science majors. 

Perfect.

Yeah, no. You’d looked up the professor, since the whole open seat thing was still giving you the heebie-jeebies, and your heart dropped. You’ve heard of him, most of the student body has. His classes are notoriously small. Not because the university limited them, or planned for smaller class sizes. No, his classes are tiny because he is infamous for failing students. 

Most, when they realize they’re scheduled for his bio classes, frantically drop, taking the withdrawal and praying for better luck next semester. Others, brave souls who think they can come out unscathed, attempt to grit their teeth and push through. But, by midterms, they’re war torn and haggard, shaking their heads and praying for a ‘C’, at best. Fewer still, pass.

This pedagogy isn’t a sign of good teaching; quite the opposite, in fact. You don’t want your student body failing. Yet, year after year, Professor Tomura Shigaraki keeps teaching the same Intro to Bio class. It boggles the mind, but you’ve never had to worry about it. Well, until now. 

When you’d received the notification that you’re enrolled in the B section and spied the name Shigaraki under the professor listing, you’d scarfed down your suddenly flavorless lunch and dashed up the steps to the student advising hall, praying there was some way you could wiggle your way out of this growing disaster.

“I’m pretty sure I told you to take it earlier and to take it in the fall when there are more freshman level classes available. I swear I said that to you. And, AND, I even sent you emails, several times if my sent inbox is to be believed, to NOT forget when senior registration ends.” 

Your advisor is peeved. You don’t blame him. He’s right, this is your fault, but there’s gotta be some kinda loophole. Something, fuck, anything, that can pull you from this mess. 

“I know, I know! I’m so sorry. You’re right. But, I mean, can’t I just hold off for another week? See if the waitlist clears?”

The man that you’ve known for four years, that’s seen you progress from freshman to senior, steeples his long fingers and purses his lips, likely debating on a tactful scolding, or a firm rebuttal. He takes a deep breath and you can’t help but sink into the soft cushioning of the chair, your nose wrinkled and brow furrowed, mentally preparing yourself for the worst.

“Do you know how many students we require to take BIO 1208?”

“No,” you gulp, nibbling on your lower lip nervously. 

“Over 7,000. Do you want to hear the statistics that would need to shake out in your favor for you to miraculously avoid taking this specific class? Nothing is going to open for you, it is this class, or no class.”

You sigh, and your advisor nods, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose. “Well then, I suggest you brush up on your study skills. Find a classmate that you can compare notes with, join a study group, go to the student union and ask for a tutor. I would hate to see you back here for the summer semester. You’re scheduled to walk the stage this spring and you’ve worked hard for this, so don’t fuck it up, okay?”

You’ve attended this university for four years, but the first day of term always gives you the jitters. It doesn’t matter that you know your way around, or that you know ten professors by name, and bump into several friends on the way to your next building, you’re always buried in your phone, checking and double checking the next class’ room number. 

Despite all that caution, you’re lost.

In your defense, it’s your first time stepping foot in the Graduate & Research building and the whole concrete block is a fucking maze. There must be a basement because the numbers don’t match up with the floors and they seem to jumble further every time you round a corner. Like what the hell? How can this next room be GR 3.03.05 when this is clearly only the second floor and GR 2.03.11 was right down that other hallway?

Exasperated, you lean against the nearest wall and tug your phone out again. Shit. Class started ten minutes ago. 

Part of you wants to call it a day, end the search here and try again on Wednesday. Maybe take a few extra minutes to scout out the building next time and have some idea of where you’re going before the start of class. 

Ugh, why is this so stressful? 

It’s the first day of classes. Surely Professor Shigaraki won’t mind if you’re a few minutes late; besides, if you’re lost, others must be too. 

You tuck your phone back into your pocket and resume the hunt. Two hallway turns later, you find your mark.

Your hand pauses beside the heavy wood, and you take a steadying breath. Again, why are you so nervous? Just go in and take a seat, it’s easy, stop freaking out over nothing. 

The door groans open, hinges protesting the sharp push, and you stumble into a darkened room. The low glow of the projector doesn’t help your blurry vision. Ah, shit, it’s one of those older rooms, so it’s built like a bad movie theater. Oh well, better get to a seat before he spots you. 

Swiftly, you make your way toward the raised steps of the aisle and the second row of chairs, plopping into the first one you reach that’s empty. You’re too busy fiddling with the zipper of your backpack to notice that the speaker has stopped his rasping preamble, but as you pull your laptop out the ominous weight of that heavy silence hits you and you toss a hooded stare toward the front of the lecture hall. 

Immediately, your eyes land on the professor’s and you feel a low shiver shake up your spine. 

He’s watching you. 

The gleam of the overhead projector makes his red eyes flash, and he openly scowls at your gaping expression, his lips curling into a dark sneer.

“Well, thank you for joining us, Miss…?”

He’s waiting for your response and you squeak out your last name, mindlessly rubbing your moistening palms against your thin skirt. 

“Ah, Ms. (L/N). Now that you’ve graced the class with your belated presence, may I continue?”

“Uh,” you gasp out, your mouth dry, tongue sticking to your teeth, “I’m sorry. I got–”

“I didn’t ask for an explanation, or in your case, an excuse. Or are you now attempting to disrupt this class purposefully?”

“Wha– I-I’m–” your words stumble to a halt, voice failing under the intense glare that he’s giving you. “No,” you finish lamely, ducking your head, nails digging into your sweaty palms. 

“Thank you. Do me a favor, stay after class.” His voice is gravel, threatening and low. You don’t like the edge in his tone. It makes your skin prickle and your knees knock. He sounds like the kind of guy that you don’t want to run into in a dark alleyway, or a classroom, for that matter. Even so, it’s not your fault, and despite your feelings of unease, you can’t tamp down your need to protest his unreasonableness. 

“But, professor, I didn’t mean to–”

“If I need to repeat my insistence for silence, I’ll make things easier on both of us and fail you now.”

Stunned and fuming, you bite your tongue and lean back into your chair, crossing your arms and blinking back mounting tears of frustration. Great, just great. It’s the first fucking day of class and it looks like you’re already on his shit list. And for what? For being late on fucking syllabus day! What an ass. 

You look over at him as you defiantly finish setting up your computer, hoping each pull of a zipper or screen reboot will grate under his stuck up skin. He’s not inordinately tall, or old. In fact, he looks like he might only be in early 30s. He has long white hair that’s pulled back into a low ponytail and, from what you can make out in the dim lighting, some kinda skin condition on his forehead. That, or he’s prematurely wrinkled, and let’s be honest, if he’s gone through life with that big of a stick up his ass, he deserves each and every pull on that mottled skin of his. 

You linger in your seat when class is over, lips pulled into a thin line and legs crossed. Finally, when the last student has left the room, professor Shigaraki flips a switch beside his elevated podium, filling the lecture hall with a sharp, fluorescent light. He pauses by his raised computer system and clicks off the overhead projector, blanketing the massive room in an uncomfortable silence. 

“Since you missed the part of class where I go over the syllabus, I’ll give you a brief rundown. Under no circumstances will I tolerate tardiness. If you do it once more I’ll mark you absent and three absences knock you down a full letter grade.”

Glumly, you cross your arms and peer up at him, finally able to get a good look at his face. Your first observation was correct. His skin is sharper around his forehead, but his wavy white hair does a pretty decent job of covering up the imperfections. He has two scars: one nicks across his right eye and the other splits down his rough lips, parting the skin and granting him an even more foreboding appearance than his already gruff demeanor does. He’s dressed in a dark pair of jeans and he’s wearing a low slung v neck shirt. It’s a brilliant red and it brings out that otherworldly glint of his red eyes. Shit, you think bitterly, while he’s not conventionally handsome, he’s not exactly hard on the eyes either. 

You shake your head against these unproductive musings and curtly snap out a clipped, ok.

“What was that?” Shigaraki scoffs, tilting his head at your sullen figure. “Speak up.”

“I said,” you bristle, eyes narrowing and chin lifting, “Okay, I apologize for interrupting your lecture, it won’t happen again. But, in my defense, if I’m allowed to do that in this class, I’ve never been in this building before, and it’s not like–”

“You’re a senior, right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Then you’ve had four years to figure out the layout of this university. The excuse of ‘being lost,’ isn’t an option for you. You know the buildings and you’re fully capable of turning up early to sort out the rooms.”

You let out a long sigh and look away, mumbling vague protests. This guy is ridiculous. You’re not a science major and it’s not your job to know the ins and outs of each building. How fucking stupid. Who does he think he–

“Speak up. I won’t ask you again.”

You bite your lip and look back at him but he’s moved in that distracted moment, silently stepping down from his raised platform and is now leaning over the first row of chairs, looming over you. You can’t help your sudden flinch as you sink further into your chair, away from him.

“If you’re gonna complain, Ms. (L/N), I’d much rather hear it. Don’t you think It’s rude for you to mutter under your breath about me? You don’t see me doing that to you.”

“Fine,” you blurt out, turning away from his insistent, and all too close, gaze. “I was saying that I’m not a science major. I get that I’m a senior, but you can’t seriously expect me to know every nook and cranny of this campus.”

“No, but I can ask for you to be a little more thoughtful. I put time and effort into my lessons and I won’t have you undermining them by bouncing in here with those legs and that flouncy little skirt.”

You’re about to counter his little haughty speech on politeness when you finally process that final comment he’d breathed out. Flabbergasted, you raise your head back to his, but he’s already moving away, snatching up his shoulder bag and waving you a curt goodbye as he presses open the squeaky door. “Next class is at 10 am sharp, so be on time Ms. (L/N).”

You’re still slumped in your seat when the door glides shut again, your eyes wide and jaw no doubt comically unhinged. 

Wait. Did…did he really just say that?

Obviously, for the next class, you’re early. You’re so early that you’re the first one in the lecture hall. You select a seat toward the back and fiddle with your computer, checking your messages, adjusting your brightness, replying to old emails, anything to keep your head down and attention occupied. 

The door opens and, despite your best efforts, your head flies up, expectant and tense, ready to meet those red eyes of his head on, to show him you’re here and he better… oh. It’s not him. It’s two chattering freshmen. One of them gives you a quick smile, but they both quickly take their seats, a few rows over, and continue their soft conversation, leaving you to fall back onto your earlier distraction tactics. You twiddle with your phone and shoot off a few texts, change your wallpaper, accidentally close an app you meant to leave open, and then the lecture hall door reopens.

He steps in slowly, completely ignoring you and the other scattered students, opting to sort out a few papers and set up his login on the school computer. The minutes tick by and you can’t seem to jerk your eyes away from him, suddenly fascinated by his languid movements. He looks more relaxed than he did on Monday, looser and fluid, completely in his element. True to his word, at ten am on the dot he begins class. 

Professor Shigaraki has an interesting voice. It’s low, calculated, bordering on a rasp. It’s one of those tones that makes you want to lean forward and listen up, even though he’s only discussing cellular biology. Which isn’t exactly the sexiest topic for that shockingly dulcet timbre of his. 

Wait. Sexy? 

Your pen falters against your notebook, and your eyes drift up to his frame. He’s switched the lights off again and the shine of the overhead projector is the only illumination in the hall. His white hair gleams in the dim lighting and his long hands animatedly illustrate his points, elegant fingers opening and closing, gesticulating about the intricate nature of the human genome. You’re so focused on watching his movements that your elbow partner has to push the slip of paper onto your collapsible desktop. You blink at the sheet, your pen nearly clattering from your hand, and you twist to peer at the unfamiliar student beside you. 

“It’s the attendance sheet and, um, I think you’re the last one,” they whisper, careful to lean away after they finish their explanation, not wanting to draw professor Shigaraki’s ire. You maneuver the paper under your pen and scribble down your name, biting your lip and silently berating yourself for your poor selection in seating. Great, now you’ll have to take the paper down to him after class. What if he talks with you again? Shit. 

At 11:25, class ends. You collect your things and plod down the steps, the attendance sheet clutched between your fingers. He’s just snapping the projector light off when you reach his podium. 

“I, uhh, have the attendance. You want me to just leave it here, or…”

“I’ll take it,” his hand is extended toward you and those red eyes are fixed on you now. It’s not the same disgruntled stare he’d given you on Monday. No, this look is a little more curious. Again, you’re taken aback by your reaction to him. He’s not even saying anything, just patiently waiting for you to deposit the sheet into his open palm, but there’s something about him that’s making your heart race. 

Maybe it’s those eyes of his. 

They are an unusual color and they have a strange intensity to them. Right as they narrow, the vermillion shining under the sharp lights; you press the paper to him and he pulls it from you, studying the names that are listed. 

You want to say something. Maybe toss him a quick, friendly, goodbye. Or apologize for the other day? Ugh. What can you even say? ‘Gosh, so glad I was on time today! All that fascinating information about the genetic code! So glad to be here!’ No, that sounds stupid and a little patronizing. Besides, why do you want to talk with him at all? He’s an ass, remember?

“Did you need something?”

His question snaps you out of your stupor and you numbly shake your head at him, already lowering your gaze, but his exhaled chuckle makes you pause, your fingers curling around your backpack straps.  

“I know I upset you the other day, but I appreciate you taking the effort to correct your mistake.” 

“Oh,” you breathe, your eyes finding their way back to his. “Yeah, well, like you said, I’m a senior. Gotta take responsibility for myself someday.”

“Ah,” he smirks, that long scar on his lip quirking upward. “Seems like you’ve got some determination after all. You might be more interesting than I gave you credit for.”

“God,” you scoff, popping out a hip and crossing your arms at the bemused leer on his face. “Just come right out and say you think I’m a bad student, why don’t you?”

“Don’t worry,” he amends, tucking the attendance sheet into his shoulder bag and snapping the clasps closed. “There’s plenty of time for you to end up right back at square one with me.”

He’s already halfway out the door by the time you right yourself from the shock of his last comment and you follow him, a string of low curses falling from your lips. 

The spring semester always flies by, and before you realize it, a full month has bled away. You’ve kept that same seat in Shigaraki’s class and at the end of each session you head down to his little platform, attendance sheet outstretched. Each day of class has a different ebb and flow. Sometimes he chats with you and it’s gotten easier to talk with him, both of your eyes holding and lingering, lips raised into calculating smiles. Sometimes it almost feels like he’s flirting with you. Other days he only spares you a curt nod, his white hair curtaining his expression from your curious gaze. You’re not bothered by these silences, not when you’ve got your secret weapon. 

The days that you like best, the ones that you plan, sorting through your closet until you’ve found the perfect choice, are the days when you wear one of your skirts. You’d even gone on some skirt shopping sprees as of late. On those days he doesn’t just make some sort of fleeting eye contact with you, no, on those days he stares. 

At first, you’d tested out your theory, staggering your outfits, careful to not screw up your suspicions with a hasty miscalculation, but as they say, the third time’s the charm. How did he expect you not to notice? He never bothers to hide those sharp ogles and recently you’ve made a point of dramatically gathering your things when you wear these cute little ensembles, bopping down the steps so his eyes have to work to follow the line of your hips and the long paths of your bare legs. One rainy afternoon you’d worn over the knee stockings, that came to an abrupt halt over the plush skin of your upper thigh, under your mini skirt and he’d practically leapt over the podium to grab the sheet from you, his eyes hooded and dark, almost wild.

“Test, on Friday,” he warns, eyes finally rising to meet your bemused expression. “Don’t stay out too late tonight.”

“What makes you say that?” you ask, brushing at a rogue fold in your skirt, luring him back to your legs. 

He scoffs at you, that jagged scar arching into a smirk. “Humph. You’re dressed up. Most of the students just wear the sweats, or pjs, and call it a day.” 

“I like to put a little effort in all that I do,” you retort, grinning up at his vermillion stare. 

“Yes, so I’ve noticed. You certainly look the part…and you’re keeping up with the workload of this course.”

“Ahhh,” you crow, clapping your hands excitedly. “Are you saying I might get an ‘A’ in this class? Be the first time someone’s done that in a while, from what I’ve heard around campus.”

Shigaraki sneers and tuts out an inaudible reply, leaning a little closer to you, making you inadvertently fall back a step. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Awe,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m doing ok on all the quizzes and the classwork.”

“So far,” he taunts, his pearlescent hair falling over his broad shoulder.

“Tch. Don’t be like that. I’ve been studying.”

“Sometimes it takes more than that.”

“Oh?” you smile, raising your chin. “What else should I be doing, professor?”

“We’ll know that after Friday, won’t we?”

God. 

You’d felt so confident when you’d turned in your test and that stupid, horrible, sexy little quirk of his lip scar that he sends you, when you’d handed him your papers, carries you on some strange, half aroused cloud all weekend. Maybe, just maybe, this class won’t be so bad after all.

The tests are handed back the following Friday, passed from row to row so everyone can fish out their papers and marked Scantrons. Yours, since you still occupy that final seat on the back row, is the last. Biting back a grin, you flip it over, so ready to see that A, that grade that you worked so fucking hard for, that… wait.

The gross flash of red across the top of your paper leaves you reeling, your breath catching against the back of your throat. It’s not a terrible grade, well, it wouldn’t be, but there are only three tests in this class, so it’s going to plummet you down to a B. One more fuck up will leave you with a C, or worse, an automatic failing grade. 

No. No, no, no, no. 

You can’t afford a bad grade, you honestly can’t even let yourself slip to a B. Your fucking cap and gown have just come in and with them that cord that you can wear around your neck at graduation. The one that marks you as honors cum laude. Fuck. You’re already pulling one B, in one of your other classes, because you’ve been focusing so much time and effort on this one. Another B will strip that cord from you, leaving you barren, with a less than ideal GPA. 

God fucking damn it.

You glare up at Shigaraki, who’s busy taking the rest of the class through a review of genetic mutations, but you can’t hear him anymore, too incensed, too overwhelmed to even care about what he’s saying. The test crumples under your fingertips, the paper shaking in your hands, and you seethe, your teeth biting your lower lip to pieces. 

It’s not fair. You’d paid attention. You’ve taken all the notes. Read all the chapters. Drilled and studied till your eyes had drooped, heavy with exhaustion. You’ve done it all right. Plus, he’d been so fucking flirty, so open with you. You’ve never chatted with a professor this way, never gone out of your way to wear clothes they like, that make them watch you, their eyes hungry pinpricks as you walk to them, mindful of the luscious sway of your hips. 

No. Fuck him. Fuck this class.

Before your elbow classmate can leave, you ask for them to hand in the attendance sheet. You barely hear their response, too busy slamming your laptop into your backpack. As you storm past the podium, you can feel his eyes on you. The distant sensation of his gaze makes your flesh prickle, but you ignore your involuntary reaction and shove your way out the door. 

“(Y/N), you can’t switch classes this late. It’s almost midterms. Besides, I don’t think anything has opened up and if you’re going to drop it, you’ve gotta get the signature of the professor,” your advisor tells you, blinking at your stony expression over his thick glasses. “I don’t get it. Why do you want to drop it? Your grades are alright and it’s just one test. You can always try–”

“Gimme the paperwork.”

Shigaraki’s office is on the top floor of the research building, tucked away down another winding and weaving hallway that once again requires your careful inspection to navigate. When you finally hit the right set of doors, you slowly make your way forward, counting the numbers up as you pass. His door is wide open, a yawning cavern that’s filled with the distant light of a lamp. You brush a hand down your skirt, smoothing away any wrinkles and steadying your nerves. 

You’d tossed on the skirt this morning, before you’d gotten the grade, and you hadn’t thought to go home and change, too consumed by that simmering rage bubbling within you. And now, like this fucking class, this skirt felt like a mistake, something stupid and vapid that you wished you had time to change out of. He’d told you he liked your attire, liked that you put effort into your outfits. At the time, you’d been so thrilled and excited that he’d complimented you, but now you wish you were confronting him in baggy jeans or lazy sweats, anything that would turn that avid gaze of his away from you. 

Lost in thought, you waver beside his open door, nibbling on your lips and tugging at your clothes. It’s now or never. No point in putting it off. What’s the worst that can happen? What can he do now? Or, a darker side of you whispers, what do you want him to do to you? What? That’s a stupid thought, you scold yourself, lifting a hand to the wall and rapping against the beige paint, announcing your presence. 

When the sound fades away, swallowed up by the empty and darkened hallway, you poke your head around the corner, searching for him. His head is tilted quizzically, and he blinks twice when he spots you, that all too familiar smirk lifting his lips. 

“Ah, Ms. (L/N), what can I do for you?”

His voice is softer than usual and your name sounds like honey, his tone resting on the syllables and consonants for a beat, almost as if he’s savoring their lift, their sound. You can’t help but swallow heavily at his appraisal. Suddenly this may be a terrible idea. 

Ugh. Get a grip (Y/N). 

“I-I need you to sign this withdrawal paperwork,” you finally reply, digging in your bag and tugging out the thin leaflet, holding it out to him. He’s silent after your demand, meditatively threading his fingers and peering up at you, his red eyes bright. 

“Step inside and shut the door behind you,” he instructs, his gaze never falling from yours. Despite the simplicity of his request, you can’t help but bristle at his imperious tone. Why does he always have to sound like that? Like he’s seconds away from taking control of the situation, or of you? He’s always one stupid step ahead, and no doubt he’s going to try and talk you down. Or, he’ll sign it and say that he always knew you were a screw up, someone who only did things halfway, who could never match up to his lofty expectations. Humph, the sooner you’re outta here and out of his class, the better. So, you obey, closing the door and petulantly flopping into the unsteady chair that sits in front of his low desk. 

He maintains that uneasy quiet, his red eyes whisking over your disgruntled face, waiting, watching. Unable to take this strange standoff, you push the university paperwork toward him, sliding it as close as you dare to his bent elbows. “I would like to withdraw from your class,” you repeat, lips setting into a thin line. 

“Why?” he asks, cocking his head so his loose white hair falls a little further down his rough brow. 

“Something came up.”

“Hmm, I can try to work with a new schedule, if it’s your job, or home life,” he counters, eyes narrowing as he sharpens his observations of your brittle expression. 

“It’s not that,” you smart, crossing your arms. Great, he’s going to make this difficult. 

“Then I suggest you tell me what’s on your mind,” Shigaraki replies, mirroring your movements and leaning back in his chair. 

“I don’t think this class is working out for me.”

He exhales a soft laugh at your lie, and you watch that tiny mole at the edge of his chin lift in his quiet mirth. “This is a freshman level course and you’re a senior. You’re in my class because it’s likely the last pre-rec that you need to take before you graduate.”

“Um, yeah. But–”

“And now, you’re wanting to drop it because of one poor grade.”

You grind your teeth and fix him with a stark glower. “I–”

“There will be two other tests. If you read your syllabus, you’d know this.”

“I read the syllabus. Your tests are worth a stupid amount of points and it only takes one of them to tank my grade.”

“Frankly, you did better than most of the class. You only need to work on practical application. I said that the written portion would be a major component of the exam. I also provided you with a review and a rubric. So I’m not sure–”

“Your grade drops me to a ‘B’, and that ‘B’ pulls me from the honors list. And… well… I thought that…”

“Oh? What did you think?” he presses, his voice suddenly dropping to that lower octave it had drifted into when he said your last name. 

“I thought I’d get a better grade,” you spit out, turning your head and biting at your lip again. 

“Why?” he counters simply. His obtuseness is making your blood boil.

“What do you mean, why?” It takes all of your will to not slip a ‘jackass’ into that question. 

“It’s not a hard thing to answer. I graded you fairly and according to my rubric. Why exactly do you feel you merit a different grade than the one you earned?”

You fall into a frustrated silence. You can hear your heart pounding against your ribs and you want to scream at him, to leap over his desk and shake him until his teeth fucking rattle. Your shoulders are rising and lowering disjointedly and his vermillion eyes are honed in on your face, shifting over your pinched expression with a distant interest. You can feel tears pricking at your eyes and you hastily rub a fist over them, brushing away any rogue drops of moisture.

“How can you ask me that? You think I didn’t notice you staring at my legs? Or that you always had something to say to me when I was wearing a skirt? What was I supposed to think, huh? I fucking thought shit like that was gonna help, ok? God, I’m so stupid. I can’t… fuck.” 

Shigaraki arches forward when you finish, a deep sigh leaching through his parted lips. His teeth snap together when you look up at him, your eyes gaining back some of that earlier defiance, and he gives you a quick grin, clearly pleased by your shift in attitude and pushes your paper aside, fixing you with a dark look. “Here’s a thought, since you feel you’re so different, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you a chance to make up the score.”

“I don’t care about the score anymore. I wanna drop your class,” you snap, but it’s a halfhearted barb. Something has changed in his demeanor. He’s dropped the concerned professor act and is leaning so close you can hear his steady intakes of air. He’s only a few inches away; if you want, you could touch him.

“I doubt you want to attend a class in the summer. Besides, they won’t let you walk if you haven’t finished your freshman level courses. And you can’t tell me you don’t want to graduate, to earn that cord that lets you into the honor cum laude. So stop pouting and hear me out. I think you’ll like what I have in mind.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever like anything about you,” your voice is sharper than you mean it to be, but the challenge makes Shigaraki smile. As it crosses his cracked lips, it pulls that scar up and it makes those eyes of his glow. He looks like the cat that’s got the cream and you’re not sure how to respond, so you cross your legs and wait for him to make the next move. 

“You sure about that? Well, I’ll have to change your tune then, won’t I? But that can wait, lemme tell you what my requirements are. I’ve got a copy of the textbook in here. I’ll have you review some of the major concepts, you’ll read the passages aloud so I’m sure you’re on the right track, you’ll hand the book back to me, and then I’ll verbally quiz you over the material. If you answer them correctly, I’ll bump you to an ‘A’ on your test.”

You have to actively work to keep your mouth closed. “So, you just want me to read from the book?”

“Yes.”

“And… answer questions?”

“That’s what I said,” Shigaraki smirks, already reaching toward his bookshelf, tugging the heavy Intro to Biology text out and shifting it into his large hands. 

You bite at your lip again and pass your gaze from his amused expression to the bland cover of the textbook, debating your next move, trying to walk yourself through all the ups and downs. It’s too simple; too easy. It’s not like him. He’s got something else in mind, why else would he fucking look like that? It’s not a bad look. No, it’s a look that makes your stomach flip and head spin. 

“Stop being so suspicious,” Shigaraki scolds, drawing your wandering attention back to him. “I don’t bite, that is, unless you want me to.”

Your eyes boggle and you have to clench your thighs tighter, your stomach churning, you feel light-headed and you can feel your core fluttering with your sudden arousal. “Wh-what did you just say?”

“Stop gaping at me like that, you’ll make me blush. Now come on.”

Your jaw snaps closed and you shake your head, trying to clear your mind from your whirling emotions. He takes this reaction as a surrender and stands, stepping toward a marred table that rests a little ways away from his desk. He licks his thumb pad and flips through a few pages before finally settling on an appealing section. Once he places it on the table, he twists back to you and crooks a finger your way. “Come here,” he orders, his voice deep and languid. Obediently, you rise on unsteady feet, hands tugging at the length of your skirt, careful to keep it pressed down as you walk toward him. 

He makes space for you to stand in front of the book and shifts back, one hand resting on the table, propping him close to your bent figure. You look up at him, but he only nods his head toward the table, a wicked smile curling the corners of his lips. Blink a few times but finally, the words clear and you can see the block of text that’s in front of you. It’s passages on DNA encodes and RNA proteins, hefty stuff, things that you had to make flash cards for. This isn’t going to be easy. If anything, he’s picked some of the harder concepts, the ones that take steady knowledge in the foundations. Flustered, you look back to him, but he’s moved. He’s leaning against the wide window beside the table, a dark mark against the glass.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, a laugh bubbling in his tone.

“There’s no way…” you stammer, shaking your head at him. 

“Want me to throw a curve in?”

“I should ask what kinda curve, but knowing you, it’s likely gonna be something terrible.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he rumbles, stepping away from the window and leaning close to your stiff form. “It just takes an open mind and some enthusiasm on your part.”

“Enthusiasm?” you question, trying your best to withstand his closeness. You can feel the heat radiating off of his broad shoulder and if you tilt a little nearer, you could graze against him, or feel his breath on your skin. 

“You’re right,” he amends, his forearm contacting your side. You startle at the touch, a gasp falling from your lips, but you don’t pull away and you can’t stop staring up at him, your eyes wide. “Obedience is a better word. From here on out, whatever I tell you to do, I expect you to obey it, although it’s not exactly, ah, school approved.”

“You want me to suck you off or something?” you sneer, hoping to stumble him off his guard, even if it’s only for an instant. Too bad he’s always one step ahead. 

“Don’t be vulgar. Think outside of the box, (Y/N). Do you think I’m going to go for something so short sighted when I could have you bending to my will? Obeying every little demand that I make? I’d much rather see if that skin of yours tastes as good as it looks, then simply have you on your knees. No, I want you to fucking scream for me while I stuff you full of my cock. But first, you need to put in some work. You should know that by now.”

Oxygen is suddenly very hard to come by and you can feel your mind hazing over as you stammer up at him, your mind flitting from word to word disjointedly. Shigaraki grants you a wolfish grin, and he dips his lips beside your ear, whispering over those tiny hairs that rest against your tender skin. “I’ll make this part easy. Nod and I’ll give you the first set of instructions.” 

What did he say? Nod? What happens when you nod? Fuck, why are you letting him do this? Is your grade really worth it? Are you that desperate that… that… 

Shigaraki is whispering other promises over you as you war with yourself, speaking his words gently, slowly, his breath hot as it fans over your neck. It’s like you’ve fallen under some kinda spell and before you realize it, your traitorous head is bobbing up and down, letting him know you want him to keep going.

“Perfect,” he sighs, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear, jerking a shiver from you. “Now, lean forward and put your hands against the table.” 

You do as he says, but he’s not satisfied with your positioning, his fingers wrapping around your wrists and yanking you forward, jutting your ass out and pressing your chest down, maneuvering you until your nose is right above the pages of the textbook. “There we go,” he rasps, pulling away so he can admire your splayed form. “Hmm, your legs are too close together. Spread them.” Knees trembling, you obey, gasping when he runs a palm against the curve of your thighs.

“You’ve got such nice legs (Y/N), so let’s put them on display, shall we?” His fingers search against the top of your skirt and they still when he reaches his prize: the zipper. When he pulls it down, you let out a sharp squeak of protestation but he silences you with a swift pinch to your side. 

“Now, now, don’t be like that. You nodded, remember? Besides, you could have left when I told you I’d give you a curve but you couldn’t help yourself could you? You want me to keep going and to do that, I need you to take this skirt off. No, don’t move. I’ll get rid of it for you. Why don’t you focus on the task at hand, hmm? Aren’t you supposed to be reading for me?”

You arch away from his fingers and he chuckles at your impudence, one large hand hooking under your chin and pulling you toward his face. His red eyes blaze as they find yours, the dark pupils threatening to swallow up that deep vermillion. “Let’s start with the second paragraph. If you do well, I might grant you a reprieve.” 

Jerking your face from his grip, you twist back to the text, trying, and failing, to ignore his inquisitive fingers, unable to resist sighing as he works one up your inner thigh. He pauses when no words fall from your lips and you grumble out a few low curses before acquiescing to his silent demand. 

“The flow of genetic information in cells from DNA to mRNA to protein is described by the Central Dogma, which states that genes specify the sequence of mRNAs, which specify the sequence of proteins. The decoding of one molecule… the… the… molecule… by spec-specific…”

He’s slipped your skirt down over the swell of your ass, but he’s taking his time, flexing out the front of the material and dipping his fingers over the bump of your lower stomach, kneading into the delicate flesh that’s stretched out for him. You can’t help the twitch of your spine and you involuntarily wiggle, palms slipping forward, dragging you further along the tabletop. Shigaraki chuckles above you, running his rough lips over the back of your neck.

“You’re so sensitive. I’ve barely touched you.” 

He circles his hands back to your skirt and edges it along, lowering it sharply on one side and then giving the same treatment to the other. You’re doing your best to keep up with your stammering readings, but it’s difficult when he keeps sighing and running his long nails across your newly bared skin. Finally, he works the skirt down and it thumps against your bare ankles; the fabric tickling your skin. 

Meanwhile, his other fingers skitter against the elastic band of your rapidly dampening panties. Once he hooks the lace under his hand, he yanks them along your legs, trailing them sinfully slowly, ensuring that they glide down the billow of your thighs. His teeth nip at your ear when you stumble to a halt in your recitation and your hands tense over the grains of wood beneath them, your nails pinching into your palms. “If you stop, I stop,” he warns, his head bumping against yours, his sharp nose pressing against your pulse.

“You’re not exactly making this easy,” you grumble, doing your best to ignore his renewed pets and strokes. 

“Stop complaining,” he smirks, leaning away from your head to peer at your newly exposed flesh. “You better pay attention to what you’re reading or you’re not going to pass the questions I’ll be asking you.”

“Yeah, yeah, ow!” you squawk, whipping your head around to glare up at him. He fucking pinched you again! This time, he’d slipped his hand between your spread legs and tweaked your inner thigh, painfully. 

“Read,” he repeats, running those guilty fingers upward, lingering beside the heat of your cunt, careful to not get too close. When you start on the next sentence, one of his hands tugs up the fabric of your shirt, snaking upward until he’s thumbing against the wire of your bra. Once again, you falter to a halt and exhale a wavering breath. 

Goddamn it. This review is no review. You’ll be lucky if you can even recall what a cell is if he keeps this up. You hear his ominous intake of air and quickly resume your recitation, mumbling something about RNA and mRNA differences. 

Wait. Didn’t you just…  

“Looks like you’re having trouble listening to me. I told you to read aloud, not to repeat the same passages over and over.”

“Hey, at least I’ll have a firm grasp on those. You should ask me something about that s-section… ah–”

The hand that was resting under the cup of your bra has made its way underneath the lightly padded material, and his thumb and index fingers have trapped your peaked nipple between them. As soon as your snarky comment left your mouth, he’d twisted the bud, squeezing it until it throbbed. 

“Pay attention,” he commands, shoving your bra upward, freeing the globes of your breasts and cupping both of his broad hands under them. Your abused nipple stings and the mixture of sharp pain and jarring arousal goes right through you, stoking that coil that pulsed within your core, and sending a tacky flush of your essence down your spread thighs.

The next few words are a struggle. The text keeps blurring and your breaths are coming in fast and heavy. Shigaraki is still feeling you up, keeping his lips close to your ears, rasping sharp commands to you and dealing out lightning fast rounds of pinches and squeezes each time you falter. 

“I–I can’t… I don’t even know what I’m reading anymore,” you bemoan, your hips pressing against the edge of the table, legs trembling as you attempt to keep them apart. He’s deliberately ignoring your throbbing clit and a desperate edge is creeping into your voice. 

“Are you always this whiny? Fine. I’ll give you a moment to read without any distractions.”

Thank God.

True to his word, he slips away from your back and you’re left shivering against his sudden absence. Despite your quaking, you’re determined to make the most of this chance and you quickly read out the paragraphs that are on the second page. As you ramble down to the last bit of text, you realize you can’t hear him anymore and when you finish the last sentence; you start to really wonder where he’s drifted off to. A tense silence follows your completion of the material and you arch up on the tips of your toes, jutting your ass out and stretching the stiffened muscles of your lower back. 

“Didn’t say you could stop reading, and judging from all of your complaints, I don’t think you got some of those earlier concepts, so I’d suggest doing a quick review,” he taunts, the sudden rasp of his voice startling a low gasp from your lips. 

He’s close; somewhere behind you and to the left from the sound of it. You try to twist around, your chest lifting from the table, and when he notices, his hands return, creating a rough pressure against your neck as he forces your body back down. His weight plasters you to the surface, scraping your partially exposed stomach and tender breasts over the nicked wood. Shigaraki is merciless in his swift correction, his breath puffing out angrily behind you. “Didn’t say you could move, either.”

Stunned, you freeze. Your arms are arched awkwardly, but he keeps his weight against you, flattening your breasts and forcing your back to arch into an awkward bend. Fuck, you think, how are you supposed to stay like this? Your legs are already aching and if he shifts away again, he’s likely going to expect you to maintain this absurd pose.  

“Yes,” he groans, his voice catching against the word, “Good girl. Now, stay just like that.”

Damn it.

“Go on, read the first part again,” he instructs. 

“The entire genetic content of a cell is known as its genome and the study of genomes is gen-genomics. In eukaryotic cells, but… but not in p-prokaryotes, DNA forms a complex with histone proteins… with histone proteins… sub-substance… of…”

His teeth have latched onto your neck, and he’s sucking bruises into your tender skin. He’s still pinning you to the table, but his hands are widening their explorations. He’s started dragging a fingernail across the puffy folds of your cunt, teasing against the dripping and swollen flesh, chuckling when you buck against his hold. 

“You always seem to lose it when you get to cellular modulations.”  

“I–I–It’s not… I can’t help that you keep…” you whimper, your fingers curling under your palms, head shaking back and forth. You can’t think. He’s not being fucking fair, and you can’t even string your goddamn words together. Shit. “Y-you’re not being fair,” you accuse, falling on the only thing that keeps running through your mind, your splayed feet shifting uncomfortably under you.

“Not fair? Not once did I say fairness would come into this arrangement,” he lifts himself off of your back and leans beside you, one arm planted beside your crooked elbow. His fingers trace over the curve of your ass, cupping at the thickest part of you and squeezing. 

“But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get a little satisfaction out of this arrangement. I bet you look good when you cum. And you’ve been working so hard to get my attention these last few months. So careful to do what I tell you. Looking at me with those big eyes of yours, all wide eyed every time I catch you looking at me. And don’t even get me started on your lips. You’re lucky I didn’t fucking bend you over after class, especially when you started wearing all of those cute little skirts for me. Ahhh, don’t moan like that, I won’t be able to help myself if you do. Let’s see how you’re doing, shall we?” 

Without warning, he slips his longest digit into your cunt, groaning loudly when he’s sucked into your welcoming heat. Your pussy, hungry for any kind of scrap, ripples around his intrusion, clamping and pulling, desperate for more. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his weight falling against your shoulder. “You’re soaking.” His elegant digit pushes deeper and you roll your hips under him, urging him closer, sighing when he sinks to the last knuckle. As he pulls his finger back, he adds another, swiftly v-ing the two before curving them together as they slip back out, dragging a steady line of pleasure from your quivering cunt. Shigaraki whispers another round of awed praise against your ear, his voice dark and breathless. 

A third digit is added on another trip out, and it creates a ragged sensation within you. It’s close to what you like, but he’s stretching you too far and it’s starting to hurt. He either needs to speed up, or give you a little more pressure. If you can hump your clit against the edge of the table, maybe it’ll give you the friction that you need. When you mindlessly buck your hips, your thighs threatening to lose that spread, he stops, holding his fingers inside you, laughing as you agitatedly try to shift him back into his earlier rhythm.

“So eager. I’d say you’re ready for my questions.”

“W-what?” you gasp, wholly focused on making him restart the push and pull of his fingers inside you. 

“I’ll start you off with something easy. What’s the cell membrane?”

“W-what? The cell… ah–” 

“Answer me. Now,” he grunts, leaning forward, re-steadying you as his fingers pull outward, dragging against your sensitive folds and schlicking through your arousal lewdly, loudly. You moan and your eyes roll back, completely ignoring his demand as you fall into the haze of pleasure that comes after his movements. 

His free hand travels up your neck and he tangles his fingers into the tendrils of your hair, yanking and jerking at the strands, demanding your attention.  

“I said, answer me.”

“Shigaraki–I–fuck. I can’t even… ugh… think right now!”

“Do you want the grade, or not?” he questions, his voice tense. “Answer correctly and I’ll give you what you want.” 

“I–I don’t think I can,” you whine, pressing your hips back as he thrusts his fingers forward again, curving them upward, searching for the spongy pad of nerves that rest against the front of your pelvis. 

“Oh? What happened to wanting that A? What about your graduation? You gonna let me fuck up your entire college career? I can do it, you know. I’ve done it to so many simpering freshmen. I fail kids left and right and you’re no different, (Y/N). 

The university lets me ahh–there it is! God, you’re so fucking wet. 

Where was I? The university can’t say no to me; they let me do what I want. I bring in too much money, too many tempting grants, and that’s all they really care about. So what’s it gonna be? Let me see that you can answer this basic crap and I’ll pass you. Or would you like for me to tie you down and force it outta you another way?”

He’s picked up the pace of his fingers as he rambles over you and a swift press against that newly discovered spot inside you has you falling to pieces in his hands, popping up onto your tiptoes and rutting yourself against the surface of the table. “O-ok, God, ok! Just–fucking repeat the goddamn question,” you pant, head slumping forward, forcing his fingers to tighten against your hair to hold you upright. 

“What is the cell membrane?” 

You wince your eyes closed, trying to rack your brain to focus on something other than the heavy pressure of the three fingers that are teasing their way across your dribbling pussy. He’s moving his presses with a lackadaisical, inconsistent rhythm now and it’s hard to fucking think. You can’t tell if his next thrust will be hard, or soft, or so rough that it’s bordering on that bittersweet line of pain. 

You shake your head, doing your best to ignore the mounting pressure that he’s building inside you and the ache of your neck and legs. Finally, after another sharp tap against that secret bunch of nerves at the front of your cunt, you latch onto a vague remembrance. 

“It… it’s a double layer of–of phospholipids that make a boundary between the cell and t-the surrounding… ugh… it controls the passage of materials.”

“Very good. Elaborate on the cellular wall.”

He’s unrelenting in his domineering treatment, twisting and frigging his fingers each time your breath hitches, and your arousal is leaking down your legs, making your skin stick and pull. It’s too much, you can’t! How can he even ask this? Words are falling from your lips incoherently, and all too soon you’re gasping out his name rather than reciting the answer. 

“Cellular–oh, fuck, Shi–Shigaraki–Please, keep–don’t stop! S-Shigaraki, God that… feels… ah–keep going!”

He ignores your request and pulls his fingers away, robbing you of that sweet pressure that he’s so carefully mounted within you. 

“I’ll count that one as incorrect. Your ‘A’ is swiftly becoming an ‘A’ minus, (Y/N)” he snarls, his teeth gritted, hands falling to the swell of your hips, wet fingers digging into your soft skin. 

“What? No! You didn’t give me enough… e-enough time! How can–can you expect me to answer that qui-quickly!”

“Let’s try another.” 

It hurts. That ache that he’s drawn out of you is starting to sting and throb and he’s being such a dick about it! You twist and grind under him, and he traps your disobedient hips against the rough siding of the table.

“I don’t–” you protest weakly, your legs trembling and chest heaving under his weight.  

“Do you want this? Wouldn’t you like to pass this class? To graduate with honors?” he growls, leaning closer, his hands braced against you, his fingers no doubt leaving bruises on the supple crest of your hips. 

“You’re such an ass! Yes! Fuck, please! I–I want it so fucking bad!” you cry out, your voice drifting into a sob as you croak out the last plea.

“Then answer another question. What’s diffusion?”

“D-diffu-diffusion is the process by which molecules move from an a-area of… of… fuck- of high concentration, to low concentration. Shigaraki!”

“I should count that as another miss, but you got the major concept correct.” He removes his fingers from your waist and yanks your ass toward him, keeping your overeager hips away from the fleeting relief of the sturdy table. “Pop your legs together,” he commands, one hand wrapping around your arched throat, squeezing until you obey. His other hand drops to that thatch of curls that rest between your quivering thighs and he gathers up your gossamer strands, rubbing against your clit for one hazy instant, sending a flash of spots across your vision.

“Mmm, now that’s a pretty sight. Good girl, don’t move,” he reminds you and you want to scream at him. Right before you can spit some frustrated vitriol out, he’s releasing your neck, his hands dropping from your skin and letting you fall back to the uneven surface below. Just before your chin contacts the wood, his hand is back in your hair, tugging you upward, holding you a few inches above the table. The sharp pain makes your scalp tingle and you unconsciously rut against the tempting heat that’s now plastered to your ass. He’s hard. You can feel the stiff bulge of his cock straining against the front of his dark jeans, pressing into the cleft of your posterior. 

“T-that’ can’t be comfortable,” you pant, twisting your head so you can look up at him from the curve of your shoulder.

“Oh? You worried about my cock?” he asks, his red eyes flashing down at you challengingly. You don’t bother giving him a verbal response, opting instead to grind your ass up, catching against the jut of his length, earning yourself a low groan. His lips curl when you repeat the motion and you realize you love watching that smug face of his drift into a look of tense pleasure. It makes his scar on his lip flush and those red eyes of his fall to a lazy half mast. He spies your arched brow and pleased grin and pushes himself off of you, leaving you alone and open on the table.   

“Keep pushing your luck. I’m more than happy to drop you back to a B.”

“What?” you scoff, teeth clinking together as you clench your jaw. “I didn’t move!”

“No, but you’re trying to take control of this and we can’t have that can we?” Shigaraki sneers. “Now, how shall I punish you?”

“P-punish me?” you stammer, a chill racing down your spine. 

“Ah, I know. This’ll really piss you off,” he twists from your strained gaze and walks back toward his desk. What? What the fuck does he mean? You can’t see him from this angle, not with the way your legs are stretched and back is lowered, but it doesn’t stop you from trying, your chin lifting upwards as you do your best to keep him in focus. 

Ugh. It’s no use. He’s slipped past your field of vision. 

Hearing is likely your best bet, so you shift your forehead back to the table and listen, straining your ears to pick up any morsel. Something opens and closes and you catch the sound of the wheels of his chair as they shift, squeaking across the floor, and the groaning of the springs when his weight is applied to the cheap leather. 

Okay, so he’s in his chair. Is he just gonna look at you? That’s not… wait… 

There’s a faint clicking sound. 

It’s both familiar and unfamiliar to your ears, but once the teeth slide over the last pull, you realize. It’s a zipper. 

Oh fuck. Is he going to jerk himself off? With a gasp, your head whips back around. He’s still positioned himself away from you, and you can only just make out the sounds that are accompanying the undoubted rise and fall of his fist. All you can see is a tiny sliver of his body, but you catch sight of the coiling muscles on his neck and you notice that his head is dipped forward, pearl white hair settling across the cut of his collarbone. The one red eye that meets yours is blazing and hungry, it makes every hair on the back of your neck stand up.  

God, he’s staring at you, watching you, getting himself off as you’re half naked and bent over a desk in his office, fully subjugating yourself to his whims and fancies for the sake of your grade. 

Damn it, (Y/N). This should not be a fucking turn on. You should be disgusted, but the flush of slick that drips down your thigh says otherwise. 

He lets out a choked moan, picking up the pace of his hand, letting you hear the click and slip of his palm as it strokes up and down his cock. A shiver echoes up your spine and your hips seem to have a mind of their own, grinding your clenched thighs over the dip of the table, easing the clenching pulsations that your cunt is shuddering through you.

“Look at you, so desperate for my touch that you’re humping the fucking table. Such a dirty girl, and so disobedient. You’ve only answered a few of my questions correctly and yet your slutty little mouth and body keep pushing at me. Making me put you in your place. Let me ask you something, why should I go out of my way to fix your grade when you can’t even prove to me you understand the simplest concepts? 

Ah, here’s a thought. What if I told you I’ll wave the other requirements; no more readings, no more quizzes, but I won’t let you cum? What if I just get myself off? You’re putting on a such a good show for me! Why should I bother with seeing that you’re satisfied when that table seems to do the job for you? Sound good? Or would you like for me to come back over there and make you cum?”

“I–I don’t… I don’t want…” You can’t get the words out, your tongue feels leaden between your lips and you can’t think of anything but the steady itch that’s spreading from your clit. 

“Speak up,” Shigaraki demands, slowing his jerking fingers. The chair he’s sitting in groans as he leans forward, and his eyes wide as they take in the delicious sight that’s propped before him. “You don’t want to cum? Is that it? You’d like for me to get myself off and leave you there?”

“No!” you cry out, your fingers digging into the scuffed wood of the table. “I-I want you to make me cum.”

There’s a sharp clatter and you jump at the abrupt noise. It must be the chair you think, your heart pounding against your chest, waiting for Shigaraki’s next move. He only lets a few seconds drift by before he presses himself back to you. He leans his broad chest over your back, the front of his legs pushing against the back of yours. His exposed length is wedged firmly against the cleft of your ass and its tempting hardness makes you squirm under him, but he’s propelling you forward, pinning you against the rough wood, and you can only flail uselessly under his control. His lips skim over your neck and he bites into your skin, sucking and licking bruises as he inches closer to your pulse.  

You say his name pitifully, wantonly, and he lets out a shaky gasp. Something about your tone has shifted something within him and you can feel his cock swelling, dripping a rope of wet pre-cum down your shaking leg. 

He leans away, removing his sticky hardness from your ass. “Seems your priorities have shifted. You’re a little preoccupied right now, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice gravel scraping against your overwhelmed senses. You let out a weak moan and he snaps into action, his fingers pushing under your flattened stomach and tugging against the fabric that he finds. He yanks you upward, pulling your shirt up as he goes. His palms dip under your half lifted bra, and he cups at your breasts, massaging the rounded bulbs and plucking at your peaked nipples. Your head lolls back, and he sucks at your earlobe again, his breath warm and rasping as it passes by. 

“Hold still,” he commands. 

It’s not an easy position, this stretched upward arch that he’s forced you into, but it’s worth it when you feel his cock pushing between your tensed legs. He doesn’t thrust into you, opting to run his weeping tip against your slippery folds, pressing until his bulbous head is twitching against your pulsing clit. 

Goddamn it, you think as he stills, his lips smacking open-mouthed kisses over your shoulder, it’s not enough. You wiggle your hips back and forth and he abruptly exerts a firm pressure against your windpipe, leaving you sputtering and gasping. “What’s wrong? Not happy with this? Do you think you deserve something more? Do you think you’ve earned that?” He shoves you back against the surface of the table, his broad chest following the plane of your back, trapping you under his heavy form. 

You’d replied, you know you must have, but you can’t hear yourself anymore, your attention attuned to the warm length that’s pressed against your shuddering folds. You’d likely thrown in a please for good measure because Shigaraki rewards you with a quick peck to your shivering neck and his thumb, swirling it around your clit, creating a cresting ache that leaves you mumbling incoherently, a thin line of drool slipping from your parted lips. As he keeps that faint osculation up, your fingernails scrape over the wood of the table, your feet lifting you onto your toes, curving your back, and shoving your leaking pussy into his open palm. 

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Shigaraki says, a breathy desperation lingering around the edges of his rasping voice. “But it’s just not enough, right?” 

You nod, licking up some of the excess saliva that’s built under your heavy tongue and crane your head back at him. His eyes are the first thing you see. They’re wild, ravenous and glinting with a roughness that makes you whisper out a soft whine. Fuck. It’s not supposed to be like this. You’re not supposed to want him this badly. Goddamn it. Now that he’s caught your gaze, he won’t let you look away, and he presses himself closer, his cock twitching and warm, the tip rubbing back and forth, keeping time with his circling thumb.

“You gonna fuck me, or not?” you finally ask, unsticking your lips and smirking up at his hardened face. 

“Tch. Don’t rush me,” he grumbles, removing his hand and teasing cock from your cunt, watching as your body convulses under him, your pussy quivering against the excess stimulation that he’s wrought over you. Your thighs burn, aching to break free from his control, to rub against that throb, that tingling that keeps shuddering outward.

“One more question,” he tells you, lifting his dripping thumb to his lips and sucking off the traces of your arousal. The sight of him licking his pink tongue over his gleaming knuckles almost makes you lose your balance, your arms shaking precariously under you. 

“A-another? Come on,” you pout, your eyes following the curve of his wicked lips, watching as his scar quirks upward, amused by your useless defiance. 

“Make you a deal, answer it correctly and I’ll give you my cock. Sound fair?”

“Ugh, whatever, just hurry up,” you snap, so impatient and turned on that you can hardly think. 

The tip of his cock presses against your sopping entrance, pushing forward just enough to part your dripping folds but stopping before he clears that first, tight ring of flesh. The promise of his dribbling tip makes you lose any semblance of self-control. You thrash under him, but he traps your disobedient hips against the rough siding of the table.

“No! Don’t stop! Come on Sh-Shigaraki–Don’t be such a fucking–ah–” 

“Do you want this? Do you want my cock?” he growls, leaning over you, his fingers squeezing down, no doubt leaving bruises in the supple crest of your hips. 

“Yes! Fuck, please! I–I want it so fucking bad!” you cry out, your voice drifting into a sob as you croak out the last plea.

“Then you better answer. What are cytosines?”

“They… they’re n-nitrogenous base… fuck… base that pair… that pair with guanine during D-DNA replication… I–please, please, Shigaraki! Fuck me! I want your cock! Fuck me, fuck me!”

Thankfully, he either takes pity on you, or can’t control himself anymore, his hips surging forward, gliding his thick length into your cunt and snarling at the mind numbing heat that waits for him. He keeps driving upward until he bottoms out, sharp hipbones grinding against the plushness of your ass. 

He’s not gentle with you, no he’s animalistic and raw, his thrusts papping into you with a terrifying strength. You would have liked something slower, something that lets you enjoy each imperfection and dip that raced along his cock, but this, oh, this is an exception because this is perfect. It’s not what you want, but it is what you need. 

The heavy fullness that he’s stuffing you with leaves you breathless, but you somehow manage to gasp out a string of nonsensical praises each time he drives back into you, overwrought by his roughness. 

This coupling isn’t kind, isn’t right, and is not healthy, for either of you. No, not with the way he’s using your shivering body, distracted with slacking that euphoric thrum that’s making his cock pulse and swell inside you.

But fuck it feels good and you can’t help but tremble with delight. These intoxicating thrusts of his ram him up against something that’s buried deep inside you, and each time he hits it another star of bright pleasure races through you. The familiar coiling of release is steadily mounting with each rapid fire rut he gives you and if he could just, ah, there’s something that’s… no, fuck, it’s, it’s not going to work. It feels good, but it’s missing one vital ingredient, one thing that he’s neglected to pay attention to, to notice. 

Your clit needs to be tweaked and rolled, and right now it’s pulsing away against the table, beating a sad tattoo into the grainy wood. Oh well, you think, head fuzzy, lost in the euphoria of his powerful cants, grinding your ass into his hips as he digs into another teeth chattering thrust. He’ll likely finish soon, and you’ll probably need to get yourself off later. It’s not something new, and it’s not like he’s going to care enough to focus on that, on you. This whole thing has been about control, so there’s likely no room for your own pleasure.

“What’s wrong,” he gasps out, his fingers lifting from your hips to curl beside your turned head. 

“What? N-nothing–I–” you pant, eyes rolling back as he hits that spongy patch of nerves again. 

“Tch. Hold on,” he interrupts, his voice rasping and breathy. He pulls himself out of you with a grunt and yanks you upward, hauling you onto the tabletop and flipping you on your back, bending your stiffened legs and bracing your knees against his lean forearms. 

He holds you apart, spreading you open with his powerful hands. You can see him properly now, and the sight makes your breath catch against the back of your throat. Fuck, he looks good. 

His long white hair is draped across his bare shoulders and his eyes are blazing pits of hunger, devouring the sight of you with those red irises. His jaw is clenched, and he glares down at you from his imperious height, his nostrils flaring as he drags in a quick intake of air. To your shock, he gives you a little time to acclimate to this new position, opting to languidly step forward, letting his slippery cock head press and tease at the dip of your opening. But right when you think he’ll move again, he stops, his eyes roving over the lines of your face. 

His sudden stillness makes you peer quizzically up at him and you scoot closer, your feet lifting from the table. The movement snaps him out of his stupor and he grabs your ankles, roughly pinning you back down.

“Keep still,” he snarls through clenched teeth, that scar of his lifting. 

You nod mutely and he rewards your unquestioning obedience with another powerful thrust, sinking his swollen cock back into your waiting cunt. He lets out a sharp groan and grabs at your hips, jerking you forward, already drifting back into that all-consuming rhythm he’d started earlier. His ruts are a little slower from this angle but, in no time at all, that familiar ache pools in your core, stoking and building at an alarming rate. The driving force of his hips soon has you blinking back spots and distant stars, and this time he adds the all important pressure of his thumb, circling the finger pad over your clit and dragging a broken moan from your quivering lips. 

“So that’s what you needed. You close?” he grits out, his lips set in a curled scowl. He’s lost some of that early control, his hips stuttering as they connect with yours, his power lessening, cooling, as he looks for your release. 

“I–I think–oh fuck, do that again. Yes! Just–ah!”

He angles your hips upward and gives your clit another quick oscillation, pressing down until you’re gasping. “There you go. That felt good. You’re getting tighter,” he laughs, looming over you, shoving your heaving chest downward as he jerks your hips into him, forcing your body to do most of the motion, making your shoulder blades scrape across the uneven wood. “Cum for me. Fucking cum on my cock, (Y/N). Cum and I’ll give you your A, I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want.”

Your spine arches as you break around him, your cunt greedily pulling him deeper, slipping him past the barrier of your tender cervix and earning you a weak shout of praise from Shigaraki. Seconds later, he’s pulsing and twitching against your walls, the warm pooling of his cum filling you up and spilling down your spread thighs. 

His head drops to your shoulder and the rough skin of his forehead sticks to your sweat dampened flesh. For a long moment you’re both still, each of you struggling to catch your breath, luxuriating in the tingling sensation of release. 

“I fucking hate you, you know,” you gasp out, your arms circling his back, fingertips etching vague patterns over his neck and shoulders. 

“Ha,” he snorts, “I’ll have to remember that. Don’t worry (Y/N), I’ll pay you back for that little remark next time.”

“Oh? Next time?” you chuckle, moaning as he twists out of your hold and pulls his softening length out of you. 

“I’ll fail you on every assignment if you try to keep away,” he threatens, his eyes falling to the gaping mess that he’s left behind. You cross your legs, denying him the satisfaction of leering at your dripping pussy. 

“Fine. But next time, fuck me on something softer than a damn table.”

tags: @spicy-skull​, @xwildskullx​, @yixxes​, @ghstmthr​, @rekoii​, @diaouranask​, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love​, @libiraki​ <--- i’m coming for you. you’re gonna have to read for this, lady. so, uh, i’m officially noneconing you here. 

notes: you made it! this thing is a monster & i’m so sorry i can never stfu

#shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #reader insert #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x reader #bnha smut #9 to 5 collab #bnha degeneracy server #collaboration #tw: unhealthy relationship #tw: teacher/student #tw: dubcon #tw: bribery

[falloutrebellion]

PSA TO ANYONE BUYING A CAR!!!

I work as a BDC agent at a very large dealership and have a ton of experience in helping people buy a vehicle. This can be a huge purchase so I want to give advice to anyone in the market or thinking about it.

First time buyers and bad credit. Maybe you have bad credit or none at all and you really need a vehicle. To many dealerships, anything under 600 is considered challenged credit. If you don’t have a qualified co-signer, you are going to need 20-40% as a down payment, depending on the value/age/mileage of the vehicle. A lot of issues I see with buyers with challenged credit is repeated reported hits on their credit because they have applied to several different dealerships in desperation. Every time a dealership pulls and submits your credit, it’s a hard hit and you will lose 2-4 points off your credit score. Most dealerships will submit you to 3-4 banks before stopping, some may go higher. So if you have challenged credit, having two or more dealerships do this to you is damaging. Being fully prepared is important!

In my experience, different dealerships use different credit bureaus to pull credit, so be familiar with all three bureaus if possible.

MYTH! A cheaper car is easier to finance. This is INCORRECT! Usually cheap vehicles are older and have high mileage. Banks do not want to finance those kinds of vehicles, so you have to look at something considered “financeable.”

These requirements fall along the lines of:

1. The vehicle must be 7-10 years old or newer

2. It must have 80-100k miles or less

3. It cannot have a salvaged/branded title, odometer rollback, and sometimes structural/frame damage. Almost all reputable dealerships will have Carfax reports publicly accessible on their website or upon request. 

4. The car needs to book well. This means that the NADA value (basically the REAL value of the vehicle) is not too far off from the selling price. If a vehicle is worth $15,000 and they are selling it for $20,000, the banks will decline because the values are too far off. 

However, just because a vehicle books bad does not mean it’s “over priced”. Technically. Most dealerships now have market based pricing, so the prices fluctuate with the economy. Similar to how housing, gas, and grocery prices rise and fall, vehicles are the same way. It is nearly impossible to buy a new vehicle anymore. Due to a wide array of issues, most 2022+ models are order only. This makes used vehicles in high demand. If dealerships are paying more to get vehicles via trade and auctions, they will have to charge more to sell them.

There are many dealerships out there who don’t care about you and only want your money. It is important to not let them pressure you and do your research to shop when you’re ready. 

On a final side note, if you inquire by calling or going online and schedule a test drive, you will help workers like me. We are here to help answer questions, provide any and all information, without the pressure of salesman. (Yes we may call and bug you, but just say you’re no longer interested and we will stop!)

If you ever have any questions please ask me!!!

Please reblog/share to help educate people in an exploitative market!

#psa #advice #life advice #car #car buying #economy #market #helpful advice #life hack #Rahela talks #idk what to tag this but i spent a lot of time on it because most people don't know this stuff!! #Help me share this #important #the more you know #refrence #resources #resource #adulting #signal boost

[blindbeta]

Hi! I'm writing a blind character who uses (among other accessibility aids) a seeing-eye animal. This is science fiction, and they're on an alien planet, so I don't want it to be a dog exactly, but I also want to make sure it could conceivably fill the same role. My ideas are ranging from "generic four-legged mammal" to "scampering lizard beast" to "literal alien bird." Is there anything I should avoid? Anything I should be sure to include? Any tips are welcome!

Title: Creating a Guide Animal a.k.a. Way More Than You Ever Wanted To Know About Service Animals, Emotional Support Animals, and Guide Dogs and Guide Horses Specifically

Hi! Thanks for the fun question! I wanted to apologize for the length of this answer. Take your time with it. Even if you already know most of the extra information I provided (which you probably do), I hope it can give you some idea of what might need to be emphasized or explained in your story. I wanted to be as thorough as possible for you and anyone else reading. Understanding more about guide animals will help you create one for your story.

Note: I use Service Animal and Guide Animal in this post. All Guide Animals are Service Animals (they are trained to provide a service to disabled people), but not all Service Animals are Guide Animals.

Okay, as always, this is going to be split into parts for easier understanding. Also, note: This is the perspective of someone who does not use a guide animal and is from a Western country. If someone who uses a guide or service animal AND is from a non-Western country with different laws, feel free to share them. Due to the nature of this question, I only want other blind people and/or service animal users to reply with information. I mostly focused on Western links and laws, as I feel these were easier for me to find sources for when I searched.

The Seeing Eye (trademarked) in an Alien World?

Fun fact! Seeing Eye dog is a specific type of dog trained in The Seeing Eye Inc in New Jersey, USA. The generic term is guide dog or service dog or service animal. I would stick with one of the generic terms, as Seeing Eye dog is specific to Earth. Not all guide dogs come from The Seeing Eye Inc. It would be inaccurate, possibly culturally strange, and take viewers out of the story if you use it. Unless you want someone to establish a Seeing Eye Inc on the new planet, although you could call it something else to avoid confusion, or address it in the text. The Seeing Eye is, thankfully, not the only training school for guide dogs. Although Vision Australia does call them “seeing-eye dogs”, I wanted to include this just in case it tripped a reader up. People will recognize the “seeing-eye dog” term if you decide to use it.

Question 12 on the Seeing Eye website says:

Only dogs trained by The Seeing Eye, Inc., of Morristown, N.J., are properly called Seeing Eye® dogs. The Seeing Eye is a registered trademark. The generic term for dogs trained by other schools is "guide dog."

Guide Dogs and Canes

This may not seem as fun to readers, but your character should follow most Earth rules when training. This is to avoid confusion for a public that tends to know little about service animals. You specificied the character would use other aids, which is great, so I’ll assume you already know this. Your character should already know how to use a cane before getting their guide animal. They will need to use these navigation skills because while the animal can help somewhat, they cannot replace the ability to navigate. For example, when crossing the street, the guide dog waits for the owner’s command to cross. In order to do this, the person must have experience with crossing safely.

Guide animals are also more expensive than canes, which can be free and easy to replace. Animals require food, toys, medical bills, and time.

My source on this is also the Seeing Eye website, which you’ll want to peruse because they have helpful information.

Other Helpful Research Tips

I have two links below about choosing to use a cane vs. a guide animal. They will provide you with information about the advantages and disadvantages of a service animal compared to using a cane. As I said before, blind people must know how to use a cane in order to qualify to get a guide dog. Therefore, it would be appropriate and helpful to have your character also know how to use a cane and to keep a cane on them often, such as in a backpack.

Reasons one might want to use a cane while having a guide dog include:

They want to interact with their environment more, particularly if it is less familiar or has changed

They don’t want to use the guide dog that day because it is too hot, the dog is sick, they don’t want to have to clean up after the animal, etc

They are between guide dogs

Those are some of the reasons someone who already owns a guide dog may want to use a cane. Some people even use a guide dog and cane simultaneously.

For more information about the pros and cons of getting a guide dog, read these articles, one of whom is by a guide dog user. You’ll want to keep these advantages and disadvantages in mind while writing.

White Cane vs. Guide Dog: Why or Why Not?

Guide Dogs vs. White Canes: The Comprehensive Comparison

Things Your Guide Needs

This is not a comprehensive list, but I wanted to include things your animal needs and general tips on how to treat the animal in the story.

1. It needs the ability to follow commands. How you do this is up to you. For research, watch YouTube videos with service dogs. Pay attention to the commands they give.

Here is a list of some commands taught by a school for service dogs, which you can probably use as a base.

Command Central: Guide Dog Commands

2. It should be trained to avoid obstacles, like benches or people

3. It should not be touched or distracted by other characters or animals - people will probably try to do so, and your character should explain that the animal is working and should not be distracted

4. It should be taken care of an given time off-harness, such as at home. It should be well-behaved as well.

5. It should be able to go anywhere. Transportation, hospitals, royal courts, sports centers, whatever is on this planet. Service dogs can go anywhere and saying they aren’t allowed somewhere in a story would be a problem. Some people do try to bar service dogs, such as restaurants, but they do so out of ignorance and not because the law is on their side. Some countries do not have protections in place, true, but because you are creating your own planet, service dogs— or in your case service animals— being allowed anywhere should hold true no matter what. Why? Because even in Western countries where dogs are seen as culturally favorable, service animals are turned away illegally, particularly at restaurants, hospitals, doctor’s offices, and public transport. This differs from an Emotional Support Animal, who are allowed only in housing, dorms, and airports. For more information on the differences between where Emotional Support Animals and Service Animals can go, read the article below.

Where Can I Take Emotional Support Animals?

Who Can Be a Service Animal?

I wanted to discuss this as well. Again, there is a lot of misinformation out there and this leads to a lot of anger directed at people with service animals.

Service Animals and Emotional Support Animals are not the same. They do not serve the same purpose, cannot go to the same places, and are not bound by the same rules. You have probably heard at least one irate person claiming someone tried to bring their service monkey into a restaurant. That person is misinformed.

To start, Emotional Support Animals can be any animal. A dog, a cat, a bunny, a bird, a turtle. There is no limit as to what the animal can be, although it must provide comfort and be beneficial to your mental health. It should be easy to train and not harmful to others. It should also be able to live in a house or be otherwise domesticated. Emotional Support Animals need a letter from a Licensed Mental Health Professional in order to qualify as an Emotional Support Animal, which should hopefully keep people from trying to keep wild or dangerous animals as pets and claim them as Emotional Support Animals.

Here is an article that goes over things what an Emotional Support Animal does, what qualities and qualifications it must have, and examples of good ESA’s and what they can do for you.

Types of Animals As ESA’s and Their Benefits

Remember, Emotional Support Animals are only allowed in any kind of housing (such as apartments or dormitories) and airports. They are not allowed in other public places where animals would not otherwise be allowed. ESA’s also need to be registered through a letter of support by a mental health provider. This letter should be shown to a landlord, as Emotional Support Animals require proof.

Next, Service Animals. Let’s get it out of the way. Service Animals (usually dogs) provide services to people with disabilities. This means a guide dog, medical alert dog, psychiatric service dog, etc. Service Animals are owned by individuals and are not therapy dogs or other working dogs. For example, dogs you are providing therapy to children in hospitals are therapy dogs. Search and Rescue dogs are working dogs. I don’t know much about either of these, but here is an article that goes into more detail about the differences.

Service Dogs, Working Dogs, Therapy Dogs, Emotional Support Dogs: What’s the Difference?

Dogs and Miniature Horses

Service animals can only be dogs OR miniature horses. Many people only think of dogs, as dogs are more popular and common in public than horses. However, a miniature horse has the same rights as a dog when in a service animal role. In the United States, Federal law recognized miniature horses as accepted service animals in 2011.

Service dogs or service horses can:

-enter any public place dogs and horses are not usually allowed

-can be trained to guide the blind or provide services for other disabilities

-can go on planes without a pet fee (provided they can fit by the owner’s feet and not block the aisle)

If we take a look at this article again:

White Cane Vs. Guide Dog: Why Or Why Not?

we’ll notice that “being denied access” is not under the disadvantages of a Guide Dog section. I think it should be. Is denying access illegal? Yes. Does it still happen? Yes. And it would probably be even more likely when someone is presented with a miniature horse - at least in countries where dogs are more popular. On top of lack of knowledge about service animals, people are not often aware that miniature horses can serve in these roles as well. Vision Australia discusses this denial of rights and laws protecting blind people with service dogs.

However, The Guide Horse Foundation reports that many people expirience better acceptance of horses as opposed to dogs. This is because a dog may be perceived as a pet or be an animal that was denied access before. A horse may not have this problem.

Some Places Service/Guide Horses Are Recognized

Canada - with laws and protections varying by province and definitions differing slightly from the U.S and Australia. However, this site specifically mentions guide horses as service animals.

Australia - with laws varying by state, but wider protections in place, which you can read more about at Vision Australia and Australian Human Rights Commission. Australian Human Rights Commission also defines a service animal as a dog or any other animal, leaving horses as an option. According to this page, miniature horses are catching on in Australia, where people generally prefer dogs. The page lists similar reasons to those I included below that someone might want a miniature horse over a dog.

The U.S - According to this page, miniature horses are the one animal that is allowed to be a service animal other than a dog. They are required to be trained and are expected to behave as well as a service dog would. The requirements listed differ little from those required of service dogs.

The U.K - This page reports that miniature horses are making their way as service animals, but I could not find any other sources about this topic, such as official recognition.

I tried searching and could not find proof that miniature horses were catching on in other places, though I found many, many places where guide dogs were popular. The point is that guide horses exist as well, and I think this can help people understand what makes a service/guide animal with more clarity.

Why a Miniature Horse?

Here is an article that discusses this in detail:

A Brief History of Miniature Horses And the ADA

According that article, a major reason people might prefer a horse to a dog is for balancing purposes. The DeafBlind community often includes people with balance difficulties (which I discussed a bit in my last ask) and miniature horses are better able to provide support, having more strength than a dog. They can steady someone when walking or help someone stand from a chair.

Other reasons someone might prefer a horse:

They live in a rural area

They or a member of their household are allergic to dogs

They live in a place where dogs are not favored, seen as dirty, or religiously unacceptable

They or a member of their household has a fear of dogs

They want a guide that lives and works longer than dogs (who work for about 6-8 years)

According to the website for The Guide Horse Foundation, horses have high stamina, do not get fleas or shed as often as dogs, and are conscious about safety.

Qualities Your Guide Animals Should Have

Using the dog and horse guides as references, here are some qualities I think your creature should have:

Trainable, both for commands and so they don’t pee where they aren’t supposed to

It should be specifically trained for this purpose, preferably by a group of some kind - this is your equivalent of a guide dog school

Good eye sight, good hearing, and strong memory at least

Relatively small, but not too small (you can use Labrador dogs and miniature horses as a reference

Good stamina for walking

Not territorial, aggressive, or dangerous- dogs can possess these qualities so I think it is okay if a wild version of your guide has these qualities. However, your guide specifically should not have them. For example, wild dogs may be aggressive, but a trained guide dog would not be.

Your guide should not be used for protection, hunting, or attacking others who may be a threat. While the presence of the animal can certainly act as a deterrent in real life and in the story, that is not the animal’s function.

Your guide should be calm, docile, and able to bond with your character

Your guide animal should generally not be seen by the people in your world as frightening, dangerous, or religiously unclean. Note that sometimes guide dogs fit these qualities in certain cultures and so they are not used there. If possible, give your world and its cultures a good working relationship with a few different animals. Pick one or two of these as possible guides people can choose from. You can possibly draw from your own culture and history for this if your culture has had good working relationships with animals.

Your guide animal should be able to be harnessed (a leash is not enough) and possibly wear something that alerts others that they are working (such as a vest)

The animal should have good navigation skills and possibly natural guiding skills. Because you are creating a species, you can possibly make these qualities innate. From what I read, horses guide by nature, able to act as guides for other horses in the herd if they are blinded.

Your guide animal should probably not fly, unless people fly or float in your world. Since it should be small enough to enter buildings and not accidentally crush children, I don’t know if having it be big enough to fly on would be a good idea anyway, as fun as that sounds.

Small enough to enter buildings and sit at the character’s feet, such as at a restaurant if your world has those

It should be able to be trained in “babyhood” and work into adult life. Dogs typically work 6-8 years and horses have a much longer lifespan and thus work longer. Create an animal that can live at least as long as a dog and thus work for some, but not all of that time. Give it a retirement phase in life, if your book ever got to that. Basically, use dogs and miniature horses as a base and work from there.

The animal should be domesticated on your world and not strictly wild (such as a lion in our world).

The animal should be comfortable on land. The ability to swim is fine, but it should of course be primarily a land animal.

The animal should have a common, available food supply and vet care even if you don’t go into this. If your guide is domesticated and possibly kept as a pet in your world (or a neighboring world, however your story is structured), this will be much easier and being easy to care for will probably be implied.

It should be allowed anywhere, including hospitals, and it should be well-behaved in those areas

It should not run away from your character and leave them alone

That’s all I can think of at this time. Generally, I think if this were set on Earth or an Earth-like fantasy place, I might suggest creating a dog- or horse-like creature, or possibly another domesticated animal that the culture favors in real life. However, since this is on another planet, I feel okay with getting creative with the type of animal, provided it has the same qualities and can serve the same purpose as a real-life equivalent. Some of this you can create with your world-building and some with research on real-life animals to use as inspiration. If anyone with a service animal disagrees, please add your opinion. It would be beneficial to me and hopefully to the asker as well.

Thank you again for the question and if you need more help, feel free to send me another ask or a message. I hope this can benefit you in some way. Good luck with your story!

Edit: I wanted to add this sensitivity reader, who can read for working with guide dogs and other blind stuff.

[blindwyrm]

Basics of Energy Work - Part One

Expanding Awareness Energy work is a subtle art, a foundational building block to successful magic. Almost all magical practices involve some form of energy work - and there are countless forms - but how it will function from individual to individual will differ greatly. To put it simply, energy work is the practice of manipulating unseen energies. Everything - people, places, animals, inanimate objects, even our thoughts - vibrates at a specific energetic frequency and emits energy. By learning how to identify and tune into these energies, we can use them to direct our magic and spell work. Chances are, you have worked your own personal energy before. More often than not, your own energy will be the easiest for you to tap into. To do this, we need to learn how to expand our awareness. Meditation Meditation is a good practice to have when pursuing any kind of magical endeavor; there are many ways to meditate and there is much to achieve through it. The overall key to meditation is, generally, focus. You are training your mind to simply observe with non judgement; not to simply clear your mind of any thought at all, which is the common misconception. There is not just one way to meditate - if sitting cross legged in a room bathed with incense as you engage breathing exercises works for you, great! Some people meditate through dance, yoga, exercise, crafts, etc. Anything where your mind can drift, “tune out” so to speak, as your body instinctively goes through the motions. There are also several forms of guided meditations that you can use for specific goals, such as attentiveness, visualization, improving memory, empowerment, etc. Elemental meditation is popular among the witchcraft community. What’s great about guided meditation is it extremely accessible through apps and things like youtube (favorites of mine are the fire meditation and the water meditation from magickians!) and makes the whole process of learning to meditate a lot less intimidating.  As meditation relates to energy work, it will sharpen your ability for visualization, increase your focus, have you more in touch with your physical and inner self as both the same and separate entities, and increase your awareness of changes in and around you - all of this working towards an enhanced ability to sense energy and its movement.  What is this mystical “energy?”  If you’re having trouble wrapping your head around the idea of the elusive and all encompassing vaguery of “energy”, don’t worry. The idea may seem intimidating, but they are not inaccessible. If you are struggling, it only indicates that you are human. This will take practice and it will require you to understand the concepts on a physical level. Luckily, these are steps that nearly every magical practitioner, old and new, has and will continue to work on for the rest of their spiritual journey. Every question you have has likely already been answered. Some may just take a bit of research to find! However, I’m going to try and provide at least some cursory information here. To get a real idea of what “energy” feels like, set aside some quiet time for youself. Close the door, dim the lights, turn off your phone. Light your candles and make sure you will be left alone. Sit down on the floor and make yourself comfortable - not too comfortable! You don’t want to fall asleep. Draw in some deep breaths and clear your mind, as you did in your meditation. Continue until you feel your breathing regulated and yourself relaxed. Now, close your eyes and rub your palms together, like you’re trying to warm them up, then pull them an inch or two apart. You should feel a charged sensation tingling between your hands, maybe even like a ball, vibrating and pulsating in your hands. If you concentrate, you may even be able to feel a sort of magnetic resistance if you attempt to push it back together. That’s energy. It’s really that simple. If you don’t feel it at first, just try again. The more you do this, the easier it will become to identify your own and different types of energy all around you through a technique called centering, which will be discussed below.  Grounding The term grounding, sometimes called Earthing, means to recalibrate your energy. Essentially, the purpose of grounding is to shake off “excess” energy and ground yourself back in reality, into the rhythm of the plane on which we exist. And while grounding does restore balance and connectedness, there are greater implications to explore when it comes to grounding. Everything on this earth is shaped by forces and presence of the Earth and cosmos, and as such, “this connection is deeply inherent to a sustainable state of well being. The Earth, as an organic and inorganic system, is constantly bathing all life on the planet with its highly ordered and coherent electromagnetic field. The natural tendency of an organism is to couple with the Earth’s energy field and come to a mutual state of cooperation and harmony within its environment, finding its niche and proper place within a system. What we need to understand is that all systems strive to achieve, return to and/or maintain a state of coherence. Whether one is aware of it or not, we are always taking part in a constant process within our universe, coupling with other energy fields and finding some sort of balance within this space. This happens everywhere within the context of an ecosystem, whenever two forces interact for any reason. The more organized or coherent these fields are, the more effectively and efficiently energy can be [manipulated.]”  Grounding allows us to cultivate a relationship with the earth and facilitate a healthier, more coherent state of being. It allows us to align our energy for more accurate working. Like meditation, there are many ways to ground; a list of some of my personal favorite methods can be found (here.) Shielding and Centering Shielding is important for magical workings as it provides a protective barrier to maintain our center. To do this, you’ll want to get a feel for your personal energy first. A good way to do is something called centering. Throughout the day, you naturally will pick up on all kinds of external energy; some good, some bad, most of it probably neither of the two - either way, it is energy that is not yours. Meditation and shadow work will be useful in identifying what feels distinctly you, but you should be able to know when you’re not feeling entirely you. If you’ve been feeling particularly out of sorts, a good tip to get back in touch with yourself before centering or shielding is to spend some time in self care. Turn off your phone and go to your room or a friendly space in nature, a library, a favorite haunt and engage in a creative project, put on your favorite music, eat your favorite food. Be mindful of your physical space, your body, sensations your are experiencing. Be attentive to you and only you; your wants, needs, feelings, comforts, etc. Take a bath and allow yourself to relax. Your only responsibility right now is you have no responsibilities - if even for just a short while. Just do what you can to access some “me time” to do something you love to do and observe yourself. Take note of what you choose to do that brings you joy, why those things make you feel happy and fulfilled, how exactly these feelings and activities resonate with you. Record this in your Book of Shadows, as it is useful information to getting to yourself on a more intimate level. Learn to recognize this energy and get familiar with what it means to feel yourself. It can be easy to get lost. Centering can get you back, especially when you make these feelings more accessible to yourself.  To center, we’re going to go back to the exercise in the beginning; in a quiet place, meditate and rub your palms together - build up that energy between them again. When you pull your hands apart, you want to visualize this sensation. What color is it? What does it feel like? Is it light? Heavy? Is it vibrating? Focus on the pulsation and how it pushes against you. Allow it to move and grow. Picture it contracting and growing until you no longer can. Pull it in close to you, somewhere you can focus on it - many people use their solar plexus or heart chakras. This is the same energy you’re going to use to shield yourself. Instead of centering this energy, however, you’re going to push it out to envelope you. Visualization in your meditation and centering exercises should help with this; visualizing energy usually makes it easier for people to push it outward. Again, knowing what specifically makes this your protective energy will be useful - what color is it? Texture? Is it elemental? Perhaps your energy doesn’t feel like light, but water or air. Maybe white is a protective color to you or maybe green is, for Earth. Maybe your energy shield is a network of stars in the shape of your zodiac constellation. Maybe the outside is reflective, to reflect any negativity directed your way. Maybe its a shield of smoke, to conceal yourself. No matter what it looks like to you, just make sure it is yours. Don’t feel pressured to commit to something either - your idea of what these concepts look like will grow and change as much as you do.  Push this energy outward and around you, as if you are creating a protective bubble for yourself. To enhance the intensity of desired outcome, surround yourself with corresponding elements. Light white candles or wear black tourmaline. I personally like to use dragon’s blood incense or oils. There are many things you can do in tandem with any of these practices, so long as they make sense for you and are helping you to achieve your desired results. This shield will become stronger the more you do this and keep you protected from psychic attacks, curses and hexes, negative energy, and bad intent.  These exercises are all building blocks to unlocking great power within oneself, but they are also a great power on their own as well. Taking the time and patience to hone these skills will aid you in all your magical endeavors, whether through sharper focus, strong visual associations, enforced protective barriers, and/or knowing your true self above all else. Once you have established your abilities, you will be able to do them any time, anywhere and begin to play more with energy, both internal and external. In the follow up, I will focus on charging and programming. 

#energy work #witchcraft #witchblr #witch #energy #spiritual #spirituality #shielding #grounding #centering #bos #protection #magic #magick #magic 101 #magick 101 #basic #basics #withcraft 101 #baby witch #beginners magic #beginners witchcraft #notes #spellbook

[tundrainafrica]

Title: En Prise (2/18)

Summary:  

Hange already had the innate analysis skills and the quick wittedness to excel in the classroom. Chess should have come easy for her. As she processed her fifth loss to the man in front of her, she started to understand that there was more to the game than meets the eye.

College AU! Levi is a little too good at chess and Hange gets roped into studying the game further.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Link to other chapters: 1

Notes: Netflix has this new show out called “Queen’s Gambit” which makes chess look like I pretty good driver for a story. Attack on Titan has its fair amount of chess motifs as well and that’s when I knew a Chess AU has to exist somewhere in the fandom. With that, Levihan AU came into existence.

Hange found herself going on walks at the same time everyday when the air was a little cooler, the sunlight a little dimmer. She followed the same route she made on her first day. She never did enter the bar though, slightly conscious of the fact that she would be obligated to buy something if she did and at that point, she had no money to spare.

She settled for looking through the window as she walked, disappointed every time to find the same disappointing scene of empty chairs and an empty table on that one corner.

The first few days, she had attributed it to life. Maybe his day job just gets busy. No one can earn just playing chess.

A few days went by though, then the weekend, and he never did come back. Maybe he wasn’t a regular hustler? Maybe he was a dream?  Hange quickly abandoned that last thought, her empty wallet attested to the existence of that boy.

She decided that the night before classes would be her deadline. That late afternoon, she allowed herself one long look at the window, long enough at least for the owner to come out.

"May I help you?"

"The chess player who sat at the table on the corner…" Hange did not have to say too much else.

"Ahh you’re talking about Levi. Sadly I can't say when he'd be back. He usually only comes back at the most once a month to play."

"So he's been doing this for a while?"

"Since he was much younger.” The man answered. He turned to Hange and sighed. “Look,  He's a good kid. He pays for food and compensates any damages."

But he hustled me. Hange sensed the contempt she kept in her tone, as she asked the first few questions. He must have noticed it as well. It was apparent in the man's tone that he at least had some emotional attachment to the young boy.

"So this Levi guy… Would you know where I can find him?"

The owner shrugged. "Never told me. The kid doesn’t talk much."

He talks enough to hustle at least. Hange thought to herself. She could not help but remember that he had talked a fair amount for her to at least have been surprised at the bar owner’s comment. It was a particularly glaring fact since chess was a game which is supposed to be played in silence.

"Thank you. Will check back again next time then." Hänge was quick to turn around as she felt a wave of disappointment. She had no idea what type of face she was making at that moment but she bent her head down just in case.

"Do you really need the money?”

Hange looked back at the owner, the loss of her money once again painful.. “Excuse me?”

“The money he hustled from you, I mean.”

“Yes. I do.”

“Will you starve without the money?”

“No.”

“Then give the boy a break. That boy has gone to my bar long enough, something tells me that the games are all he has.”

                               En Prise      

School was a good distraction.

The fact that chess was a part of her curriculum was the only thing that made it difficult for her to completely forget the man who had welcomed her her first night. One relieving yet somehow disappointing thing to note was her professor in PE seemed more interested in making them read up on openings and present them on screen.

Zoe, you'll be assigned the Pirc Modern.

She had expected at first to be playing and maybe reliving the frustration of losing again and again in blatantly winning positions. Studying opening theory turned out to be a respite for Hange and she found herself treating the game like any other subject.

Every night, she prepared for her lectures in chemistry, then biology, then statistics, always ending her days by opening an online chess database and replaying games on the modern opening.

Her days in her chess class would start with quizzes to identify common formations. Hange was surprised to find that most of them had names.

Every time they called out the openings and presented them on the board, Hange was brought back to the large shelf in the bookstore, with what could have been a hundred books about chess. As the students read out of index cards explaining the theories behind the first opening moves, Hange was made aware of the thousands of possibilities just by the first five moves.

Of course they would have books about these.

The first pawn moves. Where they place the knight. Where they place their bishops. Where they castle.

Every decision, every move mattered. Somehow, chess was starting to make her as excited as biology and chemistry did for so long.

The Pirc Modern opening is an opening for black as a reply to the king's pawn opening for white. It is characterized by an opening reply where black plays the pawn in front of their own queen one step forward, with plans of casting king's side with a fianchettoed bishop for added protection.

When she researched her own opening and saw it played out on the board, she could not help but think that that was one of the openings Levi had played against her that night. The thirst for some sort of conclusion at having lost so miserably to that particular opening she had to study came over her and she approached it like an opponent.

It was a relatively straight forward opening. All the first ten moves were booklines and even if white did change the move order, the game usually ended up with the same position. When Hange had played it herself, she had gone through what she had deemed most logical and had gone for the center early on.  Her research introduced the possibility of  something more aggressive, an idea to close the center, castle queenside with an idea of a pawn storm towards the king.

That was the idea she introduced during her own presentation.

"That's a great idea Zoe. May I remind you though that you only needed to discuss the first ten moves and the resulting position."

Hange looked up at the board she flashed on the screen, only to realize then that she had presented thirty moves all leading up to the rook exchange sacrifice on the h file and the inevitable mate.

"Oh really?" Hänge looked back at her classmates to see that most, if not everyone were all focused elsewhere, the most attentive being those staring blankly at the screen. "Thank you for listening then."

Hange packed up her laptop and made her way to her place at the side of the room.

"It looks like everyone has already presented their openings. Since we don't have much time anymore, just prepare for next week. We'll be playing actual games then."

"Nice one Zoe. At least we don't have to actually play yet."

Hange was packing her bag when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked back to see that the student had already passed her through the crowd of students. It was nothing new. Most students were usually in a hurry to get out since the physical education department where they had classes was a good ten minute walk away from most other classrooms.

Other students with no classes right after, probably just preferred not to be there and it was obvious. It was one of the easier classes which did not require much physical work nor did it require the difficult choice of whether to take a shower after class or be sweaty and stinky the whole day.

The opening presentations proved to be a pleasant surprise for most people as it turned out that most students did not have to actually think beyond making a presentation and reading off index cards to actually pass the class. It had been at least a month since the start of classes and even she had forgotten for a second that chess was mainly a game of war and not just a subject for research and analysis.

Hange guessed that most of the students at the most would play the openings they had to present about. Just in case, she prepared.

On the nights leading up to her next class, she had started to memorize the most common replies to each possible opening.

Those nights, she actually dreamt of the characteristic checkered board.

                                       En Prise

"Zoe. I want to introduce you to someone."

In the midst of the bustle as students were assigned partners to play with, Hange was surprised and utterly confused to find that her name had not been on the list passed around. She had not completely processed the unexpected turn of events when her professor approached her about it. "Yes sir?"

"This is Moblit Berner. He'll be playing you today."

Hange looked up to see her professor and behind him, someone who looked to be a fellow student. Oddly enough, he was not among the faces Hange had gotten used to the past month she had been attending chess classes.

Chess is chess. Hange did not think too much of it. The pit in her stomach that made itself when she could not find her name on the list, disappeared soon after she lead her to the nearest board and placed a white pawn in front of her.

"You'll be playing white.” He looked up at her.” You can call me Moblit by the way. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too."

Moblit started to tinker with the clock. "You've used a chess clock before I imagine."

“Actually… No.” Hange had played enough games online to know chess games were timed. That was the first time though she would be playing a timed one with someone right in front of her.

For a moment Moblit’s expression changed to that of utter surprise. “Let me set it up in front of you then.”  

“We’ll be playing a rapid game. Twenty minutes with a five second increment for every move.” He positioned the clock to Hange’s left, angling it so she could watch as he scrolled through different options. “Meaning when you move, you get an extra five seconds.”

“You ready?” Moblit held out his hand for Hange to shake. That was only the second time she has ever played a live game. The last time Hange had played one was with Levi. Back then, there was no clock. Her opponent hadn’t even bothered to shake her hand. Hange found herself a little more pissed off at Levi’s audacity.

“Ready.”

Hange opened up with the king’s pawn. Moblit responded by moving his own king’s pawn one step forward.

The French Opening.

Hange had read a fair amount about it to know it was not played by aggressive players. Another familiar one opening Levi had played against her. He had quickly sacrificed a piece for a pawn though and that opening that generally transitions to peaceful middle game, quickly transitioned to an aggressive attack for Levi.

Moblit played by the book lines of the Tarrasch opening. Hange was aware of the quick mating attacks that could follow his more mild approach towards the position.

He castled kingside and Hange only had to look at her five miserable loses to Levi to see the potential for a mating attack. A few moves into the start of the middle when Moblit played his flank pawn forward, Hange saw an opening for a mating sacrifice.  

It was like something possessed her for a split second. Hange took the pawn sticking out from the formation with her bishop. Hange only came to terms with the gravity of the sacrifice when she made eye contact with Moblit who did not look at all like he was taken by surprise at it. He took the bishop with his pawn.

Hange froze. Was it the wrong move?

It was like all the variations which Hange had thought up just a few seconds ago disappeared from her head. She was blank. She tried to push herself to think beyond that. She desperately looked up at her opponent, for inspiration, something random, unexpected to break the block that materialized in her thinking space.

Moblit’s face was unreadable. His movements were slow, careful. Although Hange recalled a slight tremble in his hands when took her bishop, with the way he looked at the board, Hange could not help but even doubt her own memory.

She looked back down at the board, trying instead to focus on what her next plan would be. Too taken aback and frustrated by her own impulsive decision though, Hange was frozen on the spot.

Her mind had become a blank slate. And that blank slate was what led to a losing end game. When the smoke had cleared, Hange was a clear two pieces down with little to no compensation.

Hange raised one out her hand in surrender. “Thank you for the game.” Hange said.  

Moblit’s eyes were wide in surprise as he took Hange’s hand. “You’re resiging?”

“There’s no way I could win now.”

“The attack was amazing. To be honest, I was a few moves until mate. It looked like you just held back at that last part. If you just brought your knight into the attack. I would have had no way to defend it.”

By the time Moblit had mentioned that last part, the pieces were close to fixed and Hange could not imagine their last position for the life of her. The embarrassment and frustration at having frozen on the spot and having lost so miserably, had her wanting to forget it at that moment. In truth, she knew would have wanted to analyze it in time. The researcher inside her was scolding her for having given up a good opportunity to learn and discover.

That only left Hange more frustrated at the recent developments. Hange pushed aside her chair and grabbed her bag more roughly than she had intended. She actually felt bad for Moblit who had jumped at her movements.

She peeked at her phone. Ten minutes before class is over. “Just tell coach what happened.” Hange said as she walked out.

She had already exited the building and was already strategizing the fastest way to the library where she could prepare for her next class. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked back to see Moblit.

“What do you want?” Hange asked.

“Do you know why your professor made us play?”

“Are you his friend or something?” Hange gave Moblit a onceover. She did not recognize him as a classmate at all.

“I’m part of the chess team actually and we need to recruit an extra player so I asked your professor for help. He said you’d be the best one there. And you play pretty well, so you might be interested.”

“I’ve never played competitively in my life. You’re better off finding someone else.”

“I  think you’re good.” Moblit paused for a moment. “Okay not good good, but good enough to hold your own against seasoned players at least. Just give the team a chance.”

“And how many times a week do you train?” Hange asked, an attempt at proving her inability to commit more than anything else.

“Four times a week.”

Hange thought back to the amount of classes she had, the research she wanted to undertake. “Would I even have time for this.”

“Athletes don’t have to take PE classes so that’s one class off your plate.” Moblit suggested weakly.

That proposition was far from weak in Hange’s eyes though.

                                      En Prise

The chessroom was a small room hidden along the hallways that snaked through the sides of their basketball courts which connected the locker rooms to the stadium. For prestigious universities, with famous basketball teams that expected hoards of fans every season, the gyms were large enough to at least house those confusing mazes of hallways. In fact, Hange soon realized as she followed Moblit through the hallways that she would have never found it through directions alone. Someone really had to guide her through the first time.  

From the entrance of the basketball court, the only way to get there was the narrow hallway that opened up from a doorway she could have mistaken for a janitor's closet.

To her surprise though, the narrow and dark hallways came with echoes of clicks and clacks. As she walked through, the clicks only got louder. Moblit did not look at all bothered by that sound. As Hange followed him into the room at the end of the hallway, she was quick to understand why.

The room was notably spacy when compared to the narrow hallway she had just gone through a while ago. To the corner of the room were four players, three boys and one girl, playing what looked like speed cheese. The source of the clicks, from their quick taps on the clock. The source of the clacks, the sound of pieces hitting the mat spread out on the table.

One particularly large clack rang out as one of the boys in the closer boards slammed his king on the board. "We're playing again!"

"You lost three games in a row already. Just stop trying to sacrifice pieces so recklessly. You're not Levi."

Levi…  

"So this is our chessroom." Moblit said as he guided her in. "And this is our team."

That name was pushed to the back of her mind as Moblit brought her to the table to introduce her to every one of them. Their names went into one ear and out the other though, that one mention of Levi was fighting for control in her mind.

"You mentioned a Levi?"

"Why? You wanna play him?"  The blonde answered, looking particularly annoyed at the mention of that name. "Why don’t you play one of us first?."

"Actually, I have no plans of playing---."

"In fact, I've been practicing Levi's opening lines---" The blonde ended up biting his tongue as the girl next to him pushed him away.

"Sorry for the rude introduction from Oluo over here. My name is Petra. " The girl said.

"She's our new recruit." Moblit answered.

"So you finally found a replacement." The blond man on the other side stood up and walked toward Hange.  "Nice to meet you. Name's Eld."

"Wait what… replacement?"

"Gunther here can't play the season because of grades so we had Moblit try to find us a quick replacement. You have experience playing competitive chess?"

"Online?" Hange suggested.

"You got someone here with no experience playing competitive chess and her first day you bring her is when we have a simulation match with Levi. You might end up having to look for a new recruit after today." The man who had bitten his tongue a while ago looked like he had quickly recovered enough to at least laugh at Hange without wincing.  "Have you at least prepared mentally to get your ass beaten by him?"

Levi… "I feel like I've gotten my ass beaten by this person you're talking about already." Hange replied. There were only so many Levis in the vicinity who play good chess right?

                                        En Prise

Levi had a disinterested look about him which made Hange wonder what went through his head half the time. She could not help but note that that was probably why he played chess so well.

She could never tell if he was taken by surprise. When Levi entered the chess room and made eye contact with her, Hange had to focus most if not all her energy into placating that flash of recognition and softening that boiling feeling inside her. Was it anger? Or was it excitement?

Either way, it manifested as frustration at seeing the Levi's poker face. Did he recognize her?  

“This is Hange Zoe. She’ll be joining our team from today.”

"You owe me money!" Hänge said, louder than she had intended. From her peripherals, she could see Petra jumping in surprise.

"I don't remember owing anyone any money." Levi replied, his tone as disinterested as his face.

"You hustled me." Hange accused.

"I don't hustle people." Levi said calmly.

"This guy is your teammate? This guy plays competitive chess? He hangs out in bars and hustles random people over chess games.” Hange challenged. “And you get this dirty guy to represent our school?

Petra looked uncomfortable. As Hange scanned their faces, she could see they all were looking for something else to focus on.

“Erwin asked me to play all of you today since he can’t make it to training.” Levi turned to Hange. “ WIll you be joining us today?” He had said it so politely and calmly yet  had completely ignored her accusation only a second ago. That was enough to get Hange’s blood boiling.

“She’s our new recruit. I think it would be a good experience if she plays too.” It was Moblit who had answered for her.”

“Wait, play with this dirty man? He might steal my money again.” Hange protested.

Levi sighed. “Zoe, let’s make a deal then, if you beat me here, I’ll give you back the money you bet. How does 500 dollars sound?” So he did recognize her.

500 dollars. That was more than what she had lost for sure. “There must be some catch to this.”

Levi shrugged. “Just stop with these accusations so we don’t waste anymore time. Erwin’s gonna get angry if we don’t finish the game today.”

Hange could only watch as Levi and the other players pulled out a long table from the side and set up chess boards and placed the chess clocks on the table.

Hange sat next to Petra. The latter grabbed the chess clock from Hange’s left side and set it up. “55 minutes with a 10 second increment”

“Everyone has to play their best opening for white. Erwin’s orders.”

“It’s not like you’re actually gonna play a bookline anyway so what’s the point.” Oluo commented.

Everyone ignored him.

Hange watched from her seat as Levi walked through all the tables. From her place she could see that Eld had moved already. What move he was playing, she could not tell. Levi quickly replied to Eld’s first move.

Beside her, Hange could see Petra had played her queen’s pawn forward.

“You have more than enough of an advantage to beat me Zoe. I’m playing five people and you have nothing to lose.” Levi said as he arrived in front of Hange’s board. “Make your move.”

Hange pushed her king’s pawn forward.

Levi stared for a second and raised one eyebrow. A disinterested and judgemental look plastered on his face. Hange could not help but doubt her opening. Is there something wrong with e4?  

Levi replied with b5, the pawn in front of his knight. Hange had never seen that in her life but what she managed to a see a few seconds later was the clear line from bishop to pawn.

She could take it and develop her bishop at the same time. She had read it before. Focus on developing pieces at the opening stages.

Was the pawn free though?   One thing Hange had learned from losing to Levi multiple times though was that Levi could easily turn a piece down position into an attack for himself.

“Hurry up and move Zoe. You’re the only one still in the opening.” Hange jumped to see Levi standing in front of her.

Hange looked to her clock.  30 minutes. She’d been thinking for at least 30 minutes. Or at least trying to think. Her mind was still blank.

“Do you still want your money back?”

That was the provocation Hange needed. She took the pawn with her bishop.

Levi quickly replied by placing his bishop on the square where the pawn was only a second ago.

The clock was ticking for Hange again. Develop your pieces. Hange played Nc3, a normal developing move to defend the pawn. Levi quickly played f5. The past few moves Levi had not left her board and as Hange looked to the others, she could see they were all deep into middlegame positions.

She looked back at the position in front of her. Another free pawn.

“Don’t you have other boards to play?”

“One less board to play if I finish one now.”

Hange took the pawn on f5.

“I’ll teach you how to win a game a rook up.” It took Hange a few minutes to notice it. After Levi had moved his bishop to the take the pawn on her right wing, at the same time threatening to take the rook,  he walked away, leaving Hange with the problem of how to save a trapped rook and the futile loss that came with it. It also gave Hange enough time to reflect, to ponder on the fact that Levi had alluded to one of their games only a week ago. Levi had been down a rook for most of one game yet managed to win.

Hange developed her knight in front of the king, having completely given up on defending the rook. From then on, she had focused on simple development. That was what Levi had done after all, when he was a rook down.

“You gave up pretty fast.” Levi commented only a few moves later.

“I’m still playing.” Hange said. The pieces were all set up but Levi was a clear rook up. From then on, Levi had not left her table in the simulation match. Levi’s material advantage only increasing from that point. The same pattern, it was definitely not as slow as it had been back in the bar when Hange was always a piece up. The advancement of Levi’s forces on the board were rapid

She found herself spending a few seconds looking at the board of Petra to see the material advantage was equal.

She couldn’t even do that much. Hange found herself playing faster and faster. It could have been from frustration or from the desire to have that humiliation end. Levi only entertained that in her as he matched her speed.

“It’s good manners to resign when you’re losing Zoe.”

Hange did not even have time to organize her forces. A black knight had planted itself in the middle of the board and the black queen was staring down at her uncastled white king.

Hange did not need to look up to feel it. Everyone’s eyes were on her and Hange chose to wait. Eventually, Levi walked away from the board and she could hear the clack and the click as he moved the pieces and pressed the clock. Then more footsteps then the clack and the click again.

Levi never did go back to her board. He didn’t need too. Hange only had to look at the clock next to her to know the game would be over soon.

“Resign.” It was Petra who resigned soon after her clock hit zero. Oluo resigned a few minutes after.

When Hange finally looked up, she could see Moblit, Oluo and Petra gathered around the board between Eld and Levi. Eld had his hands to his head while Levi just stood waiting, looking as disinterested and uninvested as he always did.

From her angle, she could not see what had happened on the board, but as she heard the sound of a piece slamming into the board, soon followed by Eld standing up, she knew it was over. Levi had beaten all of them in a sweep.  

“It’s getting late.”

Petra and Oluo had gathered up their pieces into the middle of the chess mats while Moblit and Eld

“Just keep a record of your games. Erwin will look through them.”

“Record?” Hange only noticed then, that there papers on top of the board as well.

“I forgot to tell you... I’m sure Erwin won’t mind if you didn’t have one, it’s your first day after all.” Moblit said, his tone apologetic.

“I’ll help her replay the game. You three can go ahead.”

Soon, it was just the two of them in the room.  

“Do you even know how to record games?”

“I learned in PE class but it gets confusing.”

“I’ll write it down for you to save you time.” Levi said as he set up a board in front of her. He soon replayed the game one by one, pausing to write on the board every few moves, not even bothering to ask her if he had recalled it correctly.

He had set up on the board the moment his bishop took her rook. He replayed her next move when she had developed the knight in front of her king, making sure to tap the piece multiple times on the board before writing it down. The face he made as he did that, only clued Hange in to the fact that it was probably the wrong move. “You gave up too easily.” Levi commented

“I was a rook down.”

“If we switched boards I could have won this position.” Levi said as he continued to play quickly through it.  He stopped at one familiar position, having opened a clear path for the knight to plant itself on the middle of the board. “The game is already lost at this point. There’s no need to analyze it.” Levi explained. He wrote out the last few moves on the paper, not bothering to play them out.

“You didn’t need to point it out.” Hange said as she watched Levi push the pieces towards the middle of the board. “Thank you for doing it though.” The words were difficult to say. Hange only found the strength to say it as Levi returned the board to the box on the side of the room.  

“It just bothers me. For someone who is so willing to play ten games in a row, you give up too easily on the board.” Levi shrugged.  “At least, I got some money out of it.”

“So you admit you were hustling me.”  

“You were winning in all your games. You just managed to fuck up in the middle and lost some money, that’s all there is to it.”

#levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hange

[bettsfic]

hello!! i hope you're doing well~ i'm at the point where i have writing that i'm satisfied with enough to send out to try for publishing, but i'm afraid i have no idea where to start with that process. where does one look for things to get short stories published in? how does one juggle acceptances? or does that not happen? do i always get to keep ownership of my writing? is there anything to expect/look out for? you don't have to touch on all of these! thank you in advance!

congrats on finishing a story! the good news is, you now have a writing sample that is hopefully representative of your best work, and a good writing sample can open a lot of doors for you in terms of workshops, residencies, and potential funding opportunities.

the bad news is, publication is a long-con. expect it to take 2+ years to place your story. of my 3 publications, the timelines were:

“lien” -- written fall 2016, 16 rejections, published spring 2018

“an informed purchase” -- written summer 2017, 5 rejections, published summer 2018 (this was unimaginably fast)

“the ashtray” -- written spring 2017, 17 rejections, published winter 2019

if your story is genre (sci fi, fantasy, horror, etc), i’m afraid expectations are a bit different than what i’m about to tell you. so i’m going to answer your question assuming you’ll be submitting to literary journals/magazines.

the first thing you need to do is read as many short stories as you possibly can that have been published in the past 10 years. here’s how to do that:

pick up the most recent copy of america’s best short stories (this year’s was edited by anthony doerr, one of my favorite writers)

read it and find the stories that are most similar to your work

research the authors who wrote those stories and figure out what journals have published them; read as much of their work as you can

(short story collections will have acknowledgments listing where their stories have appeared. you can also find this info on an author’s website, assuming they have one)

find the journals that have published the authors you like and read their most recent handful of issues

if their aesthetic jives with your work, look into their submission guidelines to see if your story fits with their requirements in terms of word length, etc.

if so, submit! if not, keep them in mind for when you have a story they might want

you can also click through entropy mag’s where to submit round-up

there’s also duotrope, which is a lit mag submission base, but it costs money and that’s shitty of them

note there are thousands of lit mags out there, all of varying quality. you don’t want to waste your time submitting to shitty mags or ones that don’t fit with your work. the more research you do on the front end, the easier it’ll become later

it takes a long time to become familiar with the world of literary publishing. it’s a lot like a fandom in that way. you have to read what’s out there and engage in order to figure out what’s going on. 

some general tips about finding places to submit:

don’t pay submission fees. some magazines will ask you to pay $3-$5 to submit. later in your writing career maybe that’ll be a worthwhile thing, but for your first pub i wouldn’t bother. stick with free submissions.

look around on the publication’s website to see if they nominate their writers for the pushcart, best of the net, or pen awards. also see if they promote their writers’ successes elsewhere, like when they get a book deal.

check to see how many followers they have on twitter and/or instagram. figure out what their reach is. 

check to see if they’re affiliated with a university. if they are, keep in mind that their editorial staff will rotate every semester or year, and so will their aesthetic interests. find out of it’s run by the english department or if it’s an undergrad journal. if it’s an undergrad journal they may only accept undergrad writing. most of the time journals are run by grad students

if they’re not affiliated with a university, check to see how many issues they’ve published. fewer issues, bigger risk they’re not a journal that will keep afloat and they maybe don’t have their shit together yet. lit mags are like podcasts: everyone wants to start one; very few people make it into anything meaningful. (conversely, the bigger the risk, the bigger the potential reward. a newer mag could skyrocket, and you along with it)

see who else a magazine has published. look for names you recognize. my first publication once published mary ruefle, and i’m fucken feral for mary ruefle. my ego lifted into space after being published somewhere that she had also been published. 

lastly, publication is about finding the right fit and forming relationships. a smaller mag that will value you and support you for your entire career, that is thrilled to have your work, is far more important than getting into a bigger mag that has no personal engagement or investment in you. my first publication, the editor sent me a hand-written letter about how much he loved my story. he nominated me for an award. my third publication was similar. the editor based the cover art on my story and also nominated my work for an award. 

to answer your other questions: you will never have to juggle acceptances. when you receive an acceptance, you have to withdraw your outstanding submissions. when you publish, you usually sign a publication agreement for what’s called first serial rights, which means that the publication owns the rights to your story for 1 year, after which you can publish your work wherever else you want. most publications don’t accept work that’s been previously published, though. 

you will need a cover letter. here is what your cover letter should look like:

Dear [Editor (yes you have to look up the editor’s name)],

Enclosed is my fiction submission, “Story Title.” Thank you for considering it for publication in [Journal]. [put your author bio here. here’s mine, and you can drag and drop your info: I received my MFA from Miami University in Ohio, where I am currently a creative writing and composition instructor. My fiction has appeared in Quarter After Eight, Midwestern Gothic, and Rivet Journal. I am a recipient of the 2018 Jordan-Goodman Prize in Fiction, and I was nominated for the 2019 PEN/Robert J. Dau Short Story Prize for Emerging Writers and 2020 Pushcart Prize. My work has been supported by the Sundress Academy for the Arts, Kimmel Harding Nelson Center for the Arts, and Hambidge Center residences, as well as the Tin House Workshop and New York State Summer Writers Institute.]

This is a simultaneous submission. I will withdraw the piece immediately if it is accepted elsewhere. I look forward to hearing from you. Best, [Your name]

i don’t know why they say they want a cover letter when 1) nobody reads them, and 2) they don’t actually say anything. i’m assuming it’s just to see that you know how to submit to journals? anyway, unless explicitly asked, don’t talk about your submission at all. the work should speak for itself.

here are some other things:

journals take around 3 to 6 months to reply to you, sometimes upward a year or more. do not follow up with them asking about your submission until it’s far past the window they say they’ll reply, and even then, i don’t recommend it

you will be rejected. repeatedly. i know writers who submit a piece upwards a hundred times before giving up on it. i give up/do major revisions after 20 rejections for a given story

submit in batches of 10 at a time and keep a detailed tracking sheet

the longer you’re waiting to hear back, the further you get in the process. if a journal rejects you after a year, it probably means an editor fought for your story and lost

treat any personal note/correspondence from an editor, even critical, as a gift. editors do not often give their attention. be sure to reply to personal correspondence

if a journal rejects you but welcomes you to submit again, submit a different piece and do it quickly, with a note that says they liked something else you sent them

if you get accepted to a journal that wants you to make major revisions that you don’t want to make, don’t be afraid to pull the piece. i’ve been in this situation twice: once where i refused to make the revisions because i felt they altered the heart of the story, and once where i made them because i could understand where the editor was coming from, even if i didn’t like it as well. that said, usually journals won’t be willing to work with you on a story that needs major edits; they’ll just reject the story, even if they see promise in it

okay that’s all i’ve got. i hope this helps, and happy submitting!

#writing advice #pardon any typos #i wrote this very fast and didn't read through it #hideyseek

[tea-at-221]

So, let's delve a bit into the Spanish dub of Supernatural.

I'm going to go through a lot of terms here, and a lot of basics, in order to increase people's level of understanding as to how the dub may possibly have come about the way it did.

This post will provide information and, I hope, allow some members of the fandom to move forward with their own theories with more reassurance. Information is power. I will define and clarify industry terms to the best of my novice ability to make it easier for others who wish to do their own research.

This post was inspired by the fact that I've been part of multiple fandoms in which queerbaiting has played an enormous part: I am tired of seeing fandom friends left devastated and without answers, no emotional resolution in sight. So this post is, in spirit if not content, largely dedicated to my fellow Johnlockers and Queliot shippers. And most of all, for Quentin Coldwater, who deserved not just better but the very best.

Disclaimer: This is my own research and there is a bit of speculation involved; I can't guarantee 100% that I will get everything right (I hit some very frustrating walls looking up what should be easy-to-find facts), but I did a *lot* of work for this. Other people will doubtless be able to clarify points/give better specifics/correct what I've gotten wrong. I am not promising a concrete answer to “SPN gate” here, as without more information than we currently have that is impossible to declare with certainty.

More under the cut.

All that having been said, onwards (see end for sources):

First, who airs the Spanish dub of Supernatural?

Answer: the Warner Channel.

Why? It goes back to who owns The CW.

From Wikipedia (2): "The CW Network, LLC, a limited liability joint venture between the CBS Entertainment Group unit of ViacomCBS; and the Studios and Networks division of AT&T's WarnerMedia, the parent company of Warner Bros., former majority owner of The WB. The network's name is an abbreviation derived from the first letters of the names of its two parent corporations (CBS and Warner Media)."

Warner Bros apparently is the side that handles the delegation of dubbing to outside studios. So, who does Warner use for their dubbing? Perhaps multiple studios, but the two I found in the course of my research were SPGStudios(5) (who specifically handle localization for Latin American Spanish productions) and Iyuno Media Group (formerly BTI Studios)(3).

What is localization?

Simply put, it refers to the translation of the home language of the show in question to the language of the new market it's entering. So, Supernatural 15x18 is translated from its native English to Spanish for Latin American viewers.

And what exactly *is* dubbing (actually called revoicing within the industry; dubbing is a widely-recognized term, however, and it's pretty well understood what is meant by it)?

Here is the Merriam-Webster definition:

"1 : to add (sound effects or new dialogue) to a film or to a radio or television production —usually used with "in"

They dubbed in the music.

2 : to provide (a motion-picture film) with a new soundtrack and especially dialogue in a different language

The film was dubbed in French and Spanish.

3 : to make a new recording of (sound or videotape already recorded) also : to mix (recorded sound or videotape from different sources) into a single recording"

There is a slang term, "dubby," which refers to any overdub that is comically jarring and obviously a dub. The history of dubbing has been such that this has become a way to think of and recognize it: by how awful and ineffective it used to be when it came to foreign films sloppily overlaid with English dubbing.

However, we are in the midst of an age of networks and companies scrambling to play catch-up, eager to use modern technology to create more effective, convincing dubs. In short, they see the moneymaking potential of presenting finished works that viewers may not even realize *are* dubbed without careful inspection. It's true that a good dub is about 10x more costly than subtitling, but it's hard to satisfy the viewer's desire for escapism if they can't suspend disbelief because they're busy reading.

The truth of that is reflected in internal statistics Netflix (for instance, but not just them) parses to gauge viewer interaction and retention with their various shows: when comparing subtitled vs. dubbed shows, it's easy to see which is the winner.(1)

So to be sure there is no nefarious intent here, we would need to be able to identify the following:

A.) What exactly was the process for this dub?

B.) Who decides what changes to make during a dubbing process?

C.) Who approves those changes?

*Can* there be such a thing as a "rogue translator," as Misha Collins put it? (I am going to clarify here that I think Misha is an upstanding person who believed the best of the show he was involved in and all the people who made it, so his assumption of a rogue translator makes sense in the context of that emotion-based reasoning).

I'm not sure which studio did the dub for the Latin American Spanish version of Supernatural; if I had access to that episode perhaps it's mentioned in the credits. You'd think that would be simple enough to figure out anyway, but I was unable. So maybe someone can take a look and let me know. But, as an example, here is how SPGStudios outlines their localization (dubbing) process:

1.) They make a digital or analog transcription of a show/movie.

2.) The translation, or localization, is done by their staff (in any of 40 available languages their staff can speak). When translating, they translate for meaning and then adapt for time, tempo, and style. They say that "extensive experience is required to capture the essence of the language dialog while accounting for variances in speaking time between the source and destination languages." i.e.,  wording/word choice will be kept as true as possible to the original intention of the native language, but at the same time the translation will need to use its chosen wording in a way that fits what is being shown on-screen. To produce a convincing/pleasing dub, they won't replace a word like "looked" with a longer phrase like "scanned the horizon" because it's not going to match what's onscreen. That would be venturing into "dubby" territory.

3.) They perform the ADR process: the voice actors (in this case it would normally be Guillermo Rojas performing for Dean Winchester, though it appears things may have been different in 15x18, possibly due to covid) record the new dialogue to replace the original actor's performance.

4.) The newly recorded dialogue goes to the sound editorial department "to ensure that lip-synch is optimized and technical aspects of the vocal performance match the original."

5.) All of the new audio--including dialogue, music, and sound effects--is mixed together to emulate the quality of the original production as closely as possible despite the changes in rhythm that resulted from the dialog having been translated.

6.) Designers, animators, and VFX editors assist with the localization or enhancement of graphics, if needed.

7.) Localized Master: SPG has a 'traffic team' who 'ensures that all client delivery and storage specifications are met, including file formatting, labeling, and uploading." So in other words, the files are heavily encrypted (or that's how I read this).

Presumably, after all steps are performed, SPGStudios transfers the show back to Warner, who then distributes it. The other studio, Iyuno, makes it very clear that *they* can coordinate and handle all distribution themselves to a vast number of networks. That means that if the client desires, Iyuno can send the finished product directly out into the world.

There seem to be two types of scripts that can be given to the dubbing company:

1.) "In-Production Dubbing indicates that dubbing production is active in tandem with post production. In-Production Dubbing fulfillment partners should expect potential changes to source materials."(4)

2.) "Final Asset Dubbing indicates that dubbing production takes place after final delivery of the show. All source assets will be in a final state. The dubbing fulfillment partner should not expect any changes to the source materials."(4)

Without knowing which of these was agreed upon for SPN 15x18, it is very hard to say exactly where or if additional edits may have been performed on the original material that weren't performed on the translated material (in other words, earlier draft).

If the studio was given the episode as an In-Production Dubbing project, this could explain why the title of the Spanish translation reflected the original script title, "The Truth," rather than the final title in English, "Despair".

Assuming this difference was unintentional, rather than a calculated marketing ploy re: audience enticement (which seems admittedly unlikely), then yes, it could indicate a screw-up on someone's part. The question is, was the dub company given the task of generating the title card, or did some other graphics department handle that before the project made it to them? If the latter is the case, the choice to add "Me too" instead of "Don't do this, Cas" could be either a conscious choice on the dub studio's part as sort of a nod to what they thought "the truth" was, or could just be them going with what they were given and making their translation choices based on something else, such as rhythm/timing.

SO, could there have been an original script that had Dean say "me too" in response to Cas, which then went through translation and made it out into the world? Teeechnically yes, but one would assume that the original script and original *footage* would have to have arrived at the dub studio together if the script is being transcribed in-house as SPGSTudios outlines in their process. I'm going to reason that the odds of them using a later edit of the visual--one that contained what in this instance we would be assuming was Warner's preferred dialogue ("Don't do this, Cas") yet choosing to stick with their own audio revoicing of the (supposed) original script/visual's "Me too, Cas" with its now subsequently poor timing, seems unlikely.

So either they would likely have to redo the exact same "Me too" audio again (having made the choice to keep the original dialogue, while also having to work under pandemic restrictions re: travel and talent availability) to make everything match the visual footage time-wise, OR, it was simply a matter that the English scene always was just as we saw it, but that the studio chose to interpret the script the way they did and were able to do their timing the first time around to match accordingly.

This still leaves a question in the air regarding the origin and fate of certain clips of Dean's more visually emotive reaction to Castiel's confession that have been floating around the internet. I've only seen very very brief glimpses of them, myself, and I'm not certain that they're really evidence of anything other than more than one take having been done of that scene, which wouldn't be uncommon and doesn't necessarily point to a conspiracy.

I also want to state that in the wake of 15x18, I opted to protect my mental health rather than follow every development/rumor/speculation that cropped up in the aftermath, so there’s probably a lot that I’m leaving out of this post that may be pertinent. Do me a favor and do assume that I know nothing of it. lol

I will also add this about the other studio, Iyuno: they are very careful to state on their site, repeatedly and with great pride, that they are committed to presenting the world with the smoothest, most true-to-the-original localized version of a film or show possible. Quote: "...our entire team of staff wants nothing more than to make every single one of our partner's content feel as if it were never translated." They are not fucking around. They want to please the client. Would they have done something like the translation in question without any direct go-ahead from Warner? It seems unlikely, though they don't outline their process on their site the way SPG does.

Notice that in the SPGStudios process outlined above, there is no mention made of a review step in which the studio presents the translated dialogue to the client for approval re: the new wording. That doesn't mean there isn't a review step; however, without seeing the contractual agreement that was made between Warner and whatever dub studio they used, or knowing Warner's preferred process by some other means, it's difficult to be certain whether or not there was a review process for the translated script. I did find evidence that Netflix reserves the right to review such translated scripts before air.

Speaking of Netflix, I will include here what their translation requirements are, as I did find those. They, like Warner, also use Iyuno Media Group much of the time for dubbing (voiceover style dubbing in which they apparently like to leave the original language audible underneath, so that's slightly different from revoicing, but I'm working on an assumption that the general expectations are the same for both):(4)

"1. Translation Requirements

1.1 Main Dialogue

   All main dialogue in the source (original) language should be translated unless specifically noted.

   Due to timing limitations, some of the dialogue may be condensed/truncated as long as it retains all essential elements of the plot.

   Please refrain from dubbing redundant words such as character names and repetitions.

       Additionally, do not recreate laughs, hesitations, reaction noises, etc."

I'm looking at that bit: "Due to timing limitations, some of the dialogue may be condensed/truncated as long as it retains all essential elements of the plot."

So let's say just for argument's sake that this is pretty standard language provided to the dubbing studios. Netflix is a giant, so I'll proceed with that assumption given the lack of more concrete information:

Does it really change essential elements of the remaining plot to have Dean return Castiel's declaration of love? Forgetting about the outside, emotional ripple effect such a declaration was bound to set off in the viewing audience, no. The two characters have no further scenes together, nor does Dean go on in the next episode to immediately embark on a new relationship, or tell anyone that Cas said he was in love with him but he couldn't return it because he didn't feel the same. So technically, no rule was broken. And that is what it comes down to, if you're thinking like a lawyer reading a contract: specifics, not theoretical implications or consequences.

So, possibly what we have is something that was simple to add and easy to get away with/argue for: translated dialog that fit a dub better due to its length, and didn't actually change anything plot-wise (or at least, the argument for that could easily be made). This points to the painful crux of the matter: why would the Spanish version of Supernatural which aired in Latin America allow Dean Winchester to return Castiel's declaration of love with a "Me too, Cas"? Could it *really* be as insulting as the fact that "Yo a ti, Cas" would be a quicker, smoother dub than "No hagas esto, Cas"? ("Don't do this, Cas" in English.) Or did they see something they could get away with, and a reasonable argument to provide for it, so they went ahead and claimed a small LGBT+ victory?

Is someone, somewhere, getting in trouble for all this? Maybe. But could action be taken against them? That would look pretty bad, public-relations-wise, for the party expressing condemnation if that got out. Could Iyuno, or whatever other studio (again, I don't actually know which one handled the dub) theoretically feel a ripple effect from the fallout of this? Could they quietly suffer a drop in acquisitions/revenue for "reasons unclear"? Sure. That sort of thing happens all the time, so theoretically yeah.

Whatever the reasoning behind the decision to have Dean return Cas' declaration of love, surely they didn't have to do it. Surely they could have chosen some other phrase that fit. But they chose to do exactly what they did. I don't know what went down, in the end, or whether censorship was indeed involved, but I will certainly say that I think it was a brave and admirable choice that was made with the Spanish dub. It doesn't undo the "bury your gays" trope of course, but for some LGBT+ audience members it surely provides a sense of validation and maybe even lends a little hope for better representation--which is long, long overdue.

Thanks if you read this far. I hope that even though it’s not perfect it will be helpful in some way.

Sources

(1) https://www.indiewire.com/2020/02/subtitles-vs-dubbing-what-you-need-to-know-1202212800/amp

(2) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_CW

(3) https://www.iyunomg.com/

(4) https://partnerhelp.netflixstudios.com/hc/en-us/articles/115016062708-Dubbed-Audio-Style-Guide-VO-Style-Dubbing

(5) https://www.spgstudios.com/localization

#spn gate #destiel #supernatural #queerbaiting #lgbt #lgbt+ #lgbt representation #15x18 #dean winchester #castiel #johnlockers #queliot #queliot shippers #quentin coldwater deserved better #spn family #they silenced you

[thewritershelpers]

Improving Your Writing when English Isn’t Your First Language (mega-ask)

As you can see above, we've gotten more than one question about writing, improving your writing, and even publishing in English when it's not your native language. First off: that's awesome. To anyone writing or even consuming in a language that's not your first, kudos to you.

You can google any variation of this question and get different articles with a ton of the same advice, and some with conflicting advice. Not only have I compiled the most commonly repeated information, but I've also reached out to people on our Discord server and others for their personal experiences.

I'll start off by listing concise versions of the advice and then expound on them further on in the article. Remember that we are not experts on your writing and that everyone learns in different ways and at different paces. These are in no particular order.

-be patient

-practice

-get feedback from native sources

-don't undermine yourself to your audience

-Grammarly

-research

-don't get discouraged

Be patient

That's first because, well, duh. Patience is so important for both yourself and your writing. Writing is hard enough of a passion without the added difficulty of doing it in a language that doesn't come naturally. In the world of literature, writing/publishing in your non-native language isn't just a matter of translating words. It requires translating of ideas, concepts, and even cultural norms, which is why just slapping it into Google translate won't work.

Part of the reason for the advice of having patience, too, is that writing in your native language needs to take time. It doesn't really matter how fast you can whip out 20 pages of a first draft--it'll still be a simple first draft. Writing is a craft that requires not just love and passion but time. So what if you need a little bit of extra time--or a lot of extra time--because you're accomplishing a feat most don't even think about attempting?

Next is to practice.

That goes hand in hand with what I said about being patient. Again, writing in and of itself is all about practice and doing it daily (not that I'm an expert on getting that done, but you know). But when it comes to practice another language, there are different ways you can do that. You can reach out to native speakers (for English, there are going to be so many people willing to help, even just in our community! you just need to ask) and practice having conversations or ask them to look over your work. Practice by turning on your favorite movie or TV show in English with subtitles in your native language. Watch videos on YouTube, find a Spotify playlist/podcast, in your target language. There's also plenty of people who have done what you're trying to do who have shared their experiences and what helped them on those same platforms.

Get feedback from native speakers

This is a bit of an expansion on what I mentioned in the previous paragraph. In my experience, and from what others have shared, writing in a non-native language can be pretty clinical. Writing with figurative language or in metaphors won't be as easy or come as naturally as it does in your own language. Things like idioms and even pop cultures reference aren't always going to translate even if you have the exact words. That's where native speakers come into play. If they're willing to look over your work, whether as a friend or in an editorial position, they can give you advice about whether the wording in one spot sounds clunky or if a phrase doesn't make sense or if there're synonyms for what you already used to help convey your message even stronger.

Don't undermine yourself

This is something that I personally am saying. It's not mentioned on any of the linked sites, and no one I talked to said it. But as someone who is a native English speaker (and even has a degree in it) I think this is super important. This point goes towards native English speakers/writers, too. Don't undersell yourself and undermine your work to the audience before they have even picked it up. Disclaimers are different, and it all comes down to the words you use and how you use them. Let your readers know, whether it's people on AO3 or a literary agent, that English isn't your first language. Let them know concisely that they may find some basic errors--but stop there. Don't grovel. You have nothing to apologize for, especially once you've given that warning (those is it really a warning? what's so dangerous or scary about a few mistakes?). You're writing is not going to be any less of an accomplishment for a few grammatical errors, or mistranslated phrases, or even typos. I've seen so many mistakes in published works that it's kind of ridiculous. But if you put something out there for someone to read and in the same breath say "I don't know that this is worth reading" I'm going to need extra convincing to pick it up. *kicks soapbox away*

Grammarly

*NOT sponsored*

Grammarly is a wonderful tool that you can use, for FREE. It not only (with the free version) helps correct spelling and grammar, but can also help point out the tone you're writing with. For example, right now, Grammarly is telling me that this writing sounds mostly informative--which it's meant to be--and a little appreciative and friendly. When sending emails I've had it tell me that it sounds formal (which I was going for), and I've also had it not say anything because the text was a different kind of writing (like when I'm proof-reading something being posting it on AO3...). I honestly don't know what else it helps with once you've paid because I've been happily using the free version for about 3 years now.

Research

Don't be afraid to pick up a book, or head to the library, or pull up Google. Research is paramount to writing anyway, let alone once you're doing it in another language. Your research options are limitless and can include your mutuals on social media as well as those dictionaries that translate from one language into another. Research can also include (in my humble opinion) binge-watching/reading your favorite things...in English. In four years of university, one of the most frequently said things was to improve your writing 1) write every day and 2) read every day. You're never going to learn from worrying or overthinking, and you're also never going to learn from just doing DuoLingo (that's more conversational than literary anyway).

Something a member of Discord specifically said in relation to research was to look at morphology, at the roots of words (and root words). Morphology is, in linguistics, looking at how words are formed. For example, let's look at "biology". There are parts to this word that each has a different meaning, that formed together created a new/elevated meaning. "ology" means the study of something, and bio means life. So biology is, simply, the study of life. Once you've got those basics of things like "ology" under your belt it'll become easier to not just translate words but the concepts (if this works with your learning style).

Last but not least, don't get discouraged.

Writers of all kinds get discouraged when writing in their native language. Even those of us who speak English as our first language make mistakes worth discouragement (you will never know how many typos were corrected by Grammarly as I wrote this all out the first time). English is not an easy language. It's not the hardest, but it's far from easy (learning another language isn't easy regardless of what languages are involved). This is a post from someone who is a non-native English speaker but you would never know unless they told us.

While researching for this, I found some articles/blog posts that said mostly the same thing, and are where I got some of the information

This one is from a native English speaker giving advice

This one is for writing for non-native English readers, but still has good advice

And finally this one is a blog post (I think) from someone who is a non-native English speaker!

In specific response to some of the asks:

English, like any other language, changes. It's a very dynamic language, actually, and from region to region, there will not only be different accents but different frames of reference. 1950 isn't so far back in time for the English to be drastically different from what is spoken today, but I'm in the USA and you're asking about Oxford. English in England has very different nuances, even more so than you would get between California and Texas and New York. This is a link to the Oxford English Dictionary list of words that became more common in the 50s. However, this is a generalized list, not specific to any English-speaking country let alone region or city. If you're wanting to look at how to convey the accent of people from/in Oxford, there are videos on YouTube of people speaking in different accents so that you can have an idea, a comparison, at least in your own mind. With the 50s it's going to be more just thinking really of what words and lifestyles and things weren't around yet; cell phones didn't exist yet. Here's another link to some stock images of Oxford in the 50s. Remember, this time was very close to WWII so there'll be lingering effects of that, especially in England.

About fight scenes and curses, there's a ton of resources on that. If you just search "fight" on our page, you'll get a ton of posts answering that question. Also, here's a link to a superb and excellent source on writing fight scenes. When it comes to curses...just watch Rage Quit on YouTube, or spend a while on TikTok. If you want to dive right in just Google "English curses" and there'll be YouTube videos, entries on Urban Dictionary, you name it.

When it comes to publishing, once you've gotten your manuscript is a perfect time to have a native-speaking friend look it over. Whether editing is their thing or not, they'll be able to help with the things that are really obvious. I don't have any experience publishing in a different language, though, so there might be other resources along the different stages to help you. Some general publishing advice I've gotten: when wanting to publish fiction, literature, start small. Start with short stories in literary journals, online and in print. You really can't make much headway with large publishing houses without a literary agent and it'll be easier to attract one if you have evidence that you can write, and write well enough people want to read it. When it comes to poetry, just start submitting. Get familiar with the process, and educate yourself on things like simultaneous submissions and a good rejection. Publishing is an ever-changing game that isn't cut and dry in any language or country. We can't tell you what's best, but my advice is to go with your gut and try your best. Don't be afraid to try again, too.

Everyone overthinks their writing. Or at least, everyone I know who writes does. Honestly, in my opinion, if you're not overthinking at least a little bit, you're not worried enough. You will never be able to fully know whether you've explained or described enough. A good chunk of the experience is up to the readers, so you have to leave them some wiggle room for imagination. But that doesn't mean you have to cheapen your story or short-change your characters. You mention specifically that you're POC, which I'm gonna guess also means that your characters will be POC. It's never too much to specify the race/ethnicity of your characters, even in a fantasy work. How you go about writing those descriptions might need to change but it's kind of like chocolate chips, in my mind: you decide those things with your soul.

So, there you have it. A ridiculously long way to say: you're awesome, you do you, practice, love yourself and your writing, and don't be afraid to put yourself out there (in any way).

(images read:

Anonymous said: Im writing a book based in Oxford in 1950s. how was the language different from now. I am not from an English speaking country at all. Never been outside my country either. And Im going to write a book based in England in English

Anonymous said: Hi there, I’m a writer for almost 3 years now but since English isn’t my first language I get discouraged easily if things I write come off strange to myself. Do you maybe have any advice for me, on how to motivate myself and not comparing myself with native English speakers? Thank you in advance!

Anonymous said: Hello! I starting to work on this shortfic but it’s been really hard. It’s like I’m trying to building a house alone and with my bare hands. Even though I’m already used to write in mother tongue. Any advice for non-english speaker trying to write their first story in English?

Yaelburstine said: Hi. Do you have any tips about how to write a good fight scene and curses that people speak English get cus’ it’s not my first language

gyger said: I am not a native english speaker, but most of the books I read are in english and I generally prefer writing in english as well. However, I am worried about making mistakes that I can’t recognize myself. I have no idea how good my english is to a native english speaker, plus some things are easier to write in my native tongue (such as dialogue). I’m also worried about publishing, since that definitely would be easier in my country than abroad. How do I decide what language to choose?

Anonymous said: As a POC writer and English as their second language, I overthink all the writing I do. I feel like I don’t describe my ideas thoroughly or my character descriptions are vague or not good enough. I’m currently working on a YA novel but I plan on writing a YA fantasy novel but I feel like my lack of vocabulary and grammar structure makes me give up on finishing my book. Is this normal for native English speaking authors or is this considered a language barrier thing? Thanks! Love your blog!

Thank you for your questions, and for your patience as we do our best to answer them.

-S

#TWH Respond #ESL #writing in a second language #mega ask #improving English #resources

[jeannereames]

Writing Historical Fiction (Well)

From an anonymous ask:

"What advice would you give to someone who wants to write about Alexander?" Sorry I didn't clarify, I was thinking of writing a fictional novel (but do not plan to publish it, lol)

If you’re just writing for yourself with no plans to publish, you don’t have to worry about constraints like wordcount and publishability. Unfortunately, it’s difficult to sell mainstream historicals. Selling a genre historical is easier (historical fantasy, historical mystery, historical romance). But there’s a reason it took me 30 years to get Dancing with the Lion into print. Yes, some of that time I was actually writing it, but much more was devoted to finding a market for it, and notice that I did, finally, have to sell it as genre even though it isn’t really. (It was that or shelve it forever.)

Yet if you’re asking for my recommendations, I assume you want to write something that’s marginally readable. Ergo, what follows is general advice I’d give anybody writing historical fiction.

For historicals, one must keep track of two things simultaneously: telling a good story, and portraying history accurately enough. It’s possible to do one well, but the other quite badly.

First, let’s look at how to write a good story.

There are two very basic sorts of stories: the romance, and the novel. Notice it’s romance small /r/. A romance is an adventure story; in romances, the plot dominates and characters serve the plot. A novel is character-driven, so plot events serve character development. Dancing with the Lion is a novel.

Once you’ve decided which of those you’re writing, you have a better handle on how to write it. You also need to know where you’re going: what’s the end of the story? What are the major plot points? Writers who dive in with no road map tend to produce bloated books that require massive edits. That said, romances will almost always be faster paced, in part because “what’s happening” drives it. Whereas in novels, the impact of events on characters drives it. Exclusive readers of romances are rarely pleased by the pacing of novels. They’re too slow: “Nothing is happening!” Things are happening, but internally, not externally.

Yet pacing does matter. Never let a scene do one thing when it can do three.

You will want to pay attention to something called “scene and sequel.” A “scene” is an event and a “sequel” are the consequences. So let’s say (as in my current MIP [monster in progress]) you open with a fugitive from the city jail racing through the streets with guards following: he leaps the wall of a rich man’s house and ends up in the bedroom of a visiting prince. That’s the scene. The sequel is the fall-out. (House searched, prince hides fugitive, prince gets fugitive to tell him why he’s running.) Usually near the end of the sequel(s) to the first scene, you embed the hook to the next (a slave of the rich man has been found murdered outside the city walls). The next scene concerns recovering the body and what they discover (then fall-out from that). Etc., etc., etc.

That’s how stories progress. Or don’t progress, if the author can’t master scene-sequel patterns.

It also means—again—you need to know where you’re going. Outlines Are Your Friends. But yes, your plot can still take a sharp left-hand turn that surprises you…they almost always do.

When I sat down to write Dancing with the Lion, I knew three things:

1)     I wanted to write about Alexander before he became king.

2)     I wanted to explore his relationship with Hephaistion.

3)     I especially wanted to consider how both became the men they’d did.

With those goals in mind, I could frame the story. Because I always intended Hephaistion to be as important as Alexander, the novel opens in his point-of-view to establish that. And because I didn’t want to deal with Alexander as king, the novel had to end before he became one. History itself gives a HUGE and obvious gift in the abrupt murder of Philip. Where to open was harder to decide, but as I wanted to explore the boys’ friendship and its impact on their maturation into men, I should logically begin with their meeting, and decided not to have them meet too young. From there, I spun out Hephaistion’s background, and his decision to run away from home to join the circus, er, I mean Pages. 😉

IMO, Alexander’s story is Too Big to do in a single novel, or you get an 800+ page monstrosity like Chris Cameron’s God of War. The author must decide on what piece of the story she wants to tell. (Or, like me, view it as a series.)

So that’s (in a nutshell) how you construct a story.

As for the historical side, there are three levels here:

1)     What the world looks like (details).

2)     The events that take place.

3)     How people living in that world understand life, the universe, and everything.

Number two is probably the easiest. Numbers one and three require deeper research on all sorts of things. Sometimes historical novels spend all their time on number one and completely forget number three exists.

The past is a foreign country. Just as you wouldn’t (or at least shouldn’t) write a novel set in Japan (if you’re American) without learning something not only about the physical country but also the customs…same with stories set in the past.

This is why the Oliver Stone movie failed. He put modern people in a costume drama. He didn’t understand how ancient Macedonians (or Greeks or Persians) thought. So he committed crazy anachronisms like the oedipal complex between Alexander and Olympias. Freud may have named his theory after a Greek hero, but it’s largely a foreign idea to the Greek mind. (Whether it’s valid at all is a topic for another day).

The author has to let ancient people be properly ancient.

Problem: what do you do when they’re SO foreign they’re impossible to understand for modern readers—or their attitudes are outright offensive?

Well, if you don’t plan to get your story published, you don’t have to worry about that. Or not as much. But if you want to share it with others, you might still want to consider it.

There are two basic approaches:

1)     Introduce your world through a “stranger” who enters it.

2)     Spread out more “modern” views among various characters in the story, to give modern readers something familiar to hang onto.

The first of those is by far the most common. So in Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander, Claire Randall—quite literally a modern woman—introduces the modern reader to Jacobite Scotland. As she learns about her new world, so does the reader, and in Claire, the reader has a voice to express both their fascination and their horror of that world. In Judith Tarr’s Lord of the Two Lands, she uses Meriamon, an Egyptian priestess, to enter the Macedonian world of Alexander. Judy can then contrast Egyptian and Macedonian cultural values in order to explain them. Meriamon asks questions the reader wants answers to—or Niko (or Alexander) ask questions of her about Egypt.

The second choice (which is what I did in Dancing) is to identify cultural mores likely to offend modern readers: indifference to slavery, glorification of war and conquest, Greco-Macedonian attitudes towards women, and Greco-Macedonian attitudes towards sexuality. Then to assign one of the characters to voice a more modern view. Alexander gets to be a proto-feminist, and I gave points of view to two women. One of those women, I made a slave. Hephaistion gets to express a more modern view regarding the horrors of war. Sexuality was a bit tougher, but I used the boys’ atypical relationship—that the younger is the one of higher status—to illustrate Greco-Macedonian assumptions about what a male-male relationship should look like.

That approach presents more hurdles, but for my purposes, I preferred it.

I harp on this because it’s the biggest problem for historical fiction: not having historical characters! It wrecks what might otherwise be decent research into the details. No matter how much you look up what they ate, how they dressed, the way their houses were laid out…if you have them behaving anachronistically, it’s a bad historical. Or if you have circumstances that just wouldn’t occur.

Let me give an example. I’ve said before that, when I started writing the novel in December of 1988, Dancing always began with a run-away boy (Hephaistion). But in my initial version, he showed up in Pella incognito. The more I read about Macedonia, however, the more I realized that was virtually impossible. There just weren’t that many Hetairoi. He’d have been recognized, and probably sooner rather than later. So I went back to the drawing board and, instead of having him try to hide, he comes right out and says who he is, and that he wants to join the Pages. It might take away the “mystery,” but set up more interesting dynamics: would Philip let him stay? What would his father do? Etc.

That requires the author know enough about the culture to know what’s possible, probable, and impossible. It also requires the author to be willing to change original plans in order to reflect reality, not insist on doing ___ anyway.

A good example of jettisoning history in favor of “what I want to do!” can be found in David Gemmell’s Lion of Macedon. So many, many things wrong with that book, starting with his choice to make Parmenion a Spartan for no historical reason whatsoever—but (I assume?) because Spartans Are Sexy. Parmenion likely belonged to the royal house of Upper Macedonian Pelagonia. Although even if he didn’t, absolutely nothing suggests he wasn’t Macedonian, and quite a lot says he was. The whole duology (with included The Dark Prince) was essentially Blue Boltz ™ Epic Fantasy Does Greece. The fact he actually included a bibliography in back, and got weird, isolated details right only added insult to injury.

Yet Gemmell was a best-selling British fantasy novelist who knew pacing and how to spin a good yarn. For a reader with zero knowledge of Alexander, it would stack up as a predictable but tolerable fantasy set.

Remember that as an historical fiction author, your job is to practice the art of getting it right. If that isn’t important to you, please God, write something completely made up.

At the spectrum’s other end is Showing Notecards on Every Page. You’ve done ALL that hard research, and you’ll be damn sure the reader knows it!

Um, the reader doesn’t care. The reader wants to be transported to another world. How locals in that world shoed horses (or if they shoed horses at all) is irrelevant. It matters only if your main character’s a farrier. And even then, it matters only if said-farrier is having a conversation with someone else while shoeing a horse.

If people want all the little details of history, they’ll read a history book.

Now, how much detail is “too much” can vary from reader to reader, and often has something to do with the genre.

Regular readers of historical fiction are fans because they enjoy history. So they’ll expect proper world-building. But they don’t want the Dreaded Information Dump. Weave in details. The Dreaded Information Dump is a common beginning-author error across the board, but especially bad in certain genres, such as historicals, fantasy, and SF.

What’s an “information dump”? It’s where the author provides details the reader doesn’t need at that point in the story. What the character looks like, is wearing, their family background, what they had for breakfast….

As mentioned, details should be woven into the story organically. What your character had for breakfast matters only if, later, it’s giving him/her gas: “Damn those beans in my breakfast burrito!” Some details may be useful to set a scene and prevent characters from walking around, having conversations in a void, but again, a light touch.

Similarly, One scene, One head. We do NOT need to see everything from each character’s point of view. No, really. We don’t. And dear God, please don’t “head-hop” inside of scenes (unless you’re writing omniscient, but be sure you know what omniscient IS). Drives me BUGGY.

Anyway, back to the Notecard Showing Problem. As noted above, genre expectations and reader preferences often dictate what IS “too much detail.” Generally, historical Romance (the genre) and historical mysteries go lighter on detail than historical fantasy or plain historicals. That’s because the former two have genre conventions that work against it. Romances preference the love story front-and-center at all times, and mysteries have a mystery to unravel. E.g, they’re plot driven. By contrast, historical fantasies tolerate more world building because world building itself is a feature of fantasy (and science fiction too). And the appeal of mainstream or literary historicals IS the world building, so you get massive novels like Ken Follet’s Pillars of the Earth.

I’m blathering now, but hopefully this gives pointers not just about writing Alexander, but writing fiction period, and historical fiction in particular.

#historical fiction #writing #the writing life #writing how-to #Alexander the Great #Dancing with the Lion #ancient Greek fiction #scene and sequel #asks

[lickingyellowpaint]

Alright, because at least one anon was curious, here are some thoughts based on, admittedly, a very brief foray into the world of sales. I'll speak only to what made my gut instinct do a confused puppy head-tilt, and obviously this is opinion, from someone on tumblr, and therefore not the end-all, be-all of advice on this...

Red Flags of Possible Scam Employers and/or Services

1) The first red flag was that the company threw me into the internal chats - chock full of pep and others' successes - before I was actually physically at work and able to understand their utility. Perhaps it’s easier from a tech perspective to fling new employees into every digital system at once. And sure, there was useful information and good insight into how the company uses those chats - lots of newbies asking questions and getting relevant good answers whilst on the floor, which IS nice - and if you're like me and unfamiliar with the tech or apps being used, it's great practice.

For the most part, though, two of the main chats were just hyping up their salespeople as they met their goals. I suspect they want you to see how much money everyone's making, how they're meeting their goals, and make you want to succeed similarly. There was already a little too much constant enthusiasm bouncing around the place for my goth ass, but hey, can't say the culture was negative! Still somewhat a nefarious psychological move, though, imho. The intent is likely to boast, dazzle, entice, overwhelm and make you envious enough to be competitive, as much as it is to inspire and inform. Just a guess.

2) The second red flag was similar in nature. In a lot of the e-meeting training sessions, there was a LOT of time spent on praising the success of those present in video meetings, a LOT of time spent on explaining the tier system of salespeople, the incentives, the commission system, cool trips you can earn... and I get that, to a degree, okay, you have a job, you wanna know how much money you can really make. Fine!

But if as much or more time is spent on those types of things than the actual training on what you need to learn to do the job... hm. Hm! I suspect more headgaming. (And no, this wasn't an MLM targeting suburban moms to employ and get all their friends onboard. This is a big company with good stock and trusted affiliates.) Anyway, this is about when my gut started to do that quiet hrrrr-uff dogs do when they wanna bark but aren't sure about it yet.

3) Language and words are key. Obviously, most people are sharp enough to know that phrases like "no out-of-pocket upfront cost" is a codeword for We Can't Legally Say It's Free But Want You To Feel Like It Is, and means there'll be payment involved at some point. It's one thing to know that, and quite another to parrot the phrase at an elderly potential customer, or one whose grasp of English isn't quite perfect. Could you, in good conscience, do that for a commission and feel good about it? Turns out I couldn't.

And that's not necessarily indicative of a scam company altogether - sales is sales, and sales language has probably been a little deceptive by nature for as long as it's been around. But could you do that for a paycheck, while being new to the job, thus not being entirely sure what it's gonna cost that little old lady or that immigrant family down the line? Could you? You may not really know for sure until you hear yourself say it, and your gut starts barking in earnest, because you don't know what their next step - that you just convinced them to take - will be.

4) I didn't know, so I tried to find out. While my followers here know I was pretty diligent with my required training stuff, you can see from points 1 and 2 that those materials weren't really meaty and informative enough for me. I tried to seek further clarification not just on my tasks, but the next steps - could someone explain them to me better, in a way that assured me I wasn't pitching a scam? Could someone send me videos or content relevant to the next step in the process, just so I understand it better for my own edification and peace of mind?

Well... maybe they tried to. I was sent a link to a video of one of the next-step-in-the-process sales guys at work... only to be denied access to that video, and though I requested access, nothing in the system ever granted it to me. A glitch? Perhaps. But when I mentioned wanting access, wanting a few more questions answered until I felt right with things, most of what I heard was:

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that."

"Don't overcomplicate things for yourself."

"That's a little above your role. Keep things simple, say you don't know, and it'll add value to the expertise of the next-step sales guy!"

"We tend to save that for more advanced training, since not all of our new people have your emotional intelligence, and might not have as good a brain-to-mouth filter, and say more to the customer than they need to."

Well... I wasn't asking in order to answer a customer's questions, I was asking to answer mine. I won't speak to what I don't know to be true, and I won't sell what I'm not sure is legit, no matter how much I'm paid to do so. And that gut-dog? Now it's a pack of dogs, and at least one of them is starting to howl.

5) It's howling kind of loudly, actually, and my (delightful, friendly, funny) managers aren't helping me quiet it down. So if they can't answer my questions to my satisfaction, I have to seek answers elsewhere.

Arguably, obviously, I should have done this from the start, but - that's when I sought out customer reviews.

And I don't mean clicking Google Reviews and just reading those.

I mean spending most of an afternoon on a deep dive into the following search terms:

"[Company Name] reviews" "[CN] scam" "[CN] Better Business Bureau reviews" "[CN] reddit" "[CN] class action/lawsuit" "[CN] Yelp/any other well-known review site you can think of”/Twitter tag/FB search

You get the idea.

Now, of course some bad actors (rival companies, annoyed ex-employees) can write bad reviews to make the company look bad. Equally, anyone who felt like it could write good reviews to make the company look good. (I wasn't about to search every good reviewer's name in our email database to see if any matched up. But a couple did include words or phrases that might be included in customer-facing marketing and mission statements and thus parroted naturally, but were definitely included in internal training vids. Just a very slight few, but they popped out at me.) Another thing to keep in mind when wanting to take all reviews into account equally is that when people are happy with a product, they don't always remember to leave reviews, so most reviews are written by the vaguely-to-deeply dissatisfied to begin with, and may not be an accurate representation of what's really going on.

Let's be fair here. As a thought experiment, look up the reviews for a company/service/product you truly love, and see if the bad ones reflect a concern you can understand, or one you'd brush off, or one that just doesn't reflect your experience at all. What works for one person/locale/reason for another, might not for someone else, and that’s understandable.

Also ponder:

Out of, let's say, 200 reviews, how many would need to be positive to get you to buy something, especially if it was something you wanted? Would a lot of negative ones make you second-guess the product or service?

How would you gauge the seriousness of the problems presented in the negative ones?

Would a company responding to the bad reviews with apologies and customer service numbers, on that same forum where all could read their empathy and solutions, be enough to convince you that the company had handled the issue by the time you're reading them?

Ponder, ponder, ponder...

aaaand, moving on.

Let's say that out of 200 reviews from a plethora of sources, 40-50 are five-star happy with the company.

Another, eh, 30 or so are two- or three-star, because something went wrong, wrong enough to leave an iffy or downright bad taste in the reviewers' mouths.

The last 110-120? One-star reviews. With at least 10-20 of those saying they'd have left zero stars if the review forum allowed it.

Some of those one-stars may be several years old. Some may have since had their issue truly resolved, and never bothered to update their review or add to it. Some have issues that boil down to, "Okay, the customer clearly didn't understand the terms", or, "That's a crazy problem but I can't relate to caring about it because [insert personal preference/reason] here."

But if a whole load of those one-star reviews tend to speak up about the same types of problems, serious ones, ones you'd find bothersome or downright tragic, ones that would cost you money in some way or another, ones that make you further doubt the integrity of the company altogether, and many of them are as recent as the last few months...

Do I need to finish that sentence?

Hold up, BRB, I have to let the gut-dogs out, they're going absolutely batshit crazy. Must be a full moon!

Or just a disorganized, neglectful, or possibly purposely deceitful company.

The old saying says there’s a sucker born every minute.

Would your conscience be cool with being paid to be one, or to prey on them?

Advice:

My advice is pretty basic: before joining, signing, buying important things, do your diligent research and trust. your. gut.

I hope the above list of experiences helps guide you in doing both.

#if you wanna play it super-safe just ignore salespeople and don't go into sales to begin with lol

[davidfarland]

David Farland’s Writing Tips: “Greenlighting” a Novel

In Hollywood, before a producer or a studio even begins filming a movie, they go through a process called “greenlighting” to figure out whether it is worth the effort.

https://mystorydoctor.com/david-farlands-writing-tips-greenlighting-a-novel/

When you greenlight a film, you do a great deal of research to figure out things like: How large is the audience for this film? What techniques work best for advertising the movie to fans? How much can we expect to make globally on box office sales, DVDs, video-streaming, and sales? How much will we have to spend to make it? Do we have the money? Who will we have distributing it? And so on.

Literally, there are a hundred or more questions that need to be answered, such as when will we film it, when will we release it, and who would we have direct it? Lots of niggling details.

The question arises: Can you greenlight a book?

With novels, you too have a huge outlay. You might think that all it costs is time, but the truth is your time on earth is finite. I’m at a ripe old age where I’ve had to grapple with the reaper a couple of times in the past two years, and I don’t want to waste my time writing a book no one would buy or enjoy.

So how would we greenlight a novel?

The steps for greenlighting a novel are similar to those for creating a film. I noticed that one of my students this morning had put “the end” on a novel last night. He reported that he had spent 215 hours writing the book—about 5 and ½ weeks of full-time work. He’ll spend a good deal more time in marketing and promoting it.

So, here are the big questions that you need to answer to the best of your ability as an author:

Is there a sufficient audience for my novel?  To answer that question, you have to look at bestsellers where the author takes a similar approach to  similar subject matter. Now, you might say, “Ah, my novel idea is different from any other. There is nothing to compare it to.” That’s not true, exactly.

You may be right in that the world and characters are different from any others, but there are similarities.

When I worked as a greenlighting analyst in Hollywood, we looked at screenplays and studied each line, searching for the “emotional beats” that it aroused.

Did it arouse humor, or horror, or romance? We looked at eight different types of emotional beats: wonder, humor, horror, romance, mystery, adventure, drama, and porn. (You might notice that these are also the names of major book “genres.”) We’d consider the images that would appear on the screen, the dialog, and the potential soundtrack to analyze the beats. We’d develop a chart like this:

Horror 12, Wonder 31, Comedy 17, Mystery 15, Romance 31, Adventure 57, Drama 29, Porn 2.

Believe it or not, if you created a database of movies, we could find one in the past eight years that is a very close match. In fact, we might even match it exactly. But we don’t want just one, we’d want five. By averaging the performance numbers of similar movies, we could estimate within a few percentage points how our movie might do. If our five comparables all averaged a billion dollars in sales, we knew we were on the right track.

We’d make a lot of predictions on how the film would perform based upon our comparisons. We can do the same with books.

The truth is, it’s pretty easy to figure out what will sell in books. Start thinking about the emotional tone and beats of your novel and comparing what you’re writing to bestsellers.

Imagine that Stephen King has a hit, and you want to beat it. Ask yourself questions like, “How many horror beats does he actually have in his bestseller? Can I add more to mine, or can I surprise my reader with beats that strike deeper at the heart?”

Whatever genre you’re writing in, start thinking about how you could do it better. In a 300-page novel, is there a way to pack in more romance and more passion than the world’s most famous romance novelist does? Instead of having one romantic storyline, for example, can I follow three simultaneously? Exactly how many romantic beats would I need to create the most-romantic novel of our time?

At that point, you’re beginning to ask the right questions, and you can proceed to outline the book.

But should you write the book you're planning now?

Ask yourself this: If JK Rowling had known that by writing Harry Potter she would make a billion dollars, would she have written the book?

That’s a dumb question.

Let’s get back to the costs of writing. It becomes a fairly simple matter to figure out the costs of writing. There are three major areas.

1) Do your have research expenses? I’ve spent thousands of dollars researching some books. Others I’m able to write with almost no investment. Some books require a lot of time to research, too, and you have to figure that in.

2) How much time do you estimate that it will take to write the book and revise it? This might be hard to judge. Each book brings a new set of problems. When you’ve written a hundred of them, it gets easier to estimate.

3) Will there be any costs in finding a publisher, hiring voice talent for audiobooks, or setting up distribution and marketing campaigns?

Please note that there are almost always some real marketing costs in marketing your books. In fact, it’s downright foolish to imagine that you’ll sell books without marketing them.

4) Should I be spending my time on a more-lucrative project? This is always the catch with writers. Many of us have to try to figure out whether time would be better spent writing book A, B, C, or D? Should I spend my time on what I think is the most lucrative project or the one that I’m most emotionally invested in?

In films, movie studios disclose a lot of information on how much they spend creating and distributing a movie. We don’t have that luxury with books.

Let’s go back to Harry Potter. How much did the publishers spend to promote the book? Scholastic rented out the fronts of bookstores during Christmas season. They spent a million dollars creating a castle to use as an office at a licensing fair. They had to pre-order and print millions of copies in anticipation of hitting the bestseller list, and they had to pay fees to bookstores for setting up special displays of the books. In short, they spent millions and millions of dollars in marketing and promotion. And they made it all back, along with a huge profit.

Unfortunately, when greenlighting a novel, we’re not privy to how successful campaigns were created, so we can’t duplicate them easily.

December is still Hollywood month at Apex! We will be having Kevin Beggs, Chairman of the Television Division of Lionsgate Films talking to us on Tuesday, and producer/director Spanky Ward on Saturday. Join us in Apex!

#writ #writing tips #writer #writing #writr #writrblr #greenlighting #screenwriting #editing #publishing

[gingermcl]

Weaponization of music

Did you know that the standard music frequency is 440 hz and this is an unnatural frequency? A 440 hertz frequency disrupts the mind and the body. 432 Hz resonates with 8 Hz, same as the Schumann resonance, the documented fundamental electromagnetic “beat” of Earth. 432 Hz simply feels better.

Research shows music tuned to a 432 hertz frequency is easier to listen to, is brighter, clearer, and contains more dynamic range. Music with this tuning does not need be played at high volumes, thus reducing the risk of hearing damage. However by the 1950s the worldwide music was tuned to 440 hertz instead of 432 hertz.

If musical performances were going to sound the same all over the world, standardization was required. Having a universally accepted tone is why a piano in Toronto sounds exactly the same as a piano in China. There is nothing wrong with standardization, it is the choice of 440 Hz that was strategically calculated to disrupt the psyche of humanity as a whole.

In 1885, the Music Commission of the Italian Government declared that all instruments and orchestras should use a tuning fork that vibrated at 440 Hz, which was different from the original standard of 435 Hz and the competing 432 Hz used in France.

In 1917, the American Federation of Musicians endorsed the Italians, followed by a further push for 440 Hz in the 1940s by Nazi Germans.

In 1953, a worldwide agreement was signed. Signatories declared that middle “A” on the piano be forevermore tuned to exactly 440 Hz. This frequency became the standard ISO-16 reference for tuning all musical instruments based on the chromatic scale, the one most often used for music in the West. All the other notes are tuned in standard mathematical ratios leading to and from 440 Hz.

432 Hz is said to be mathematically consistent with the patterns of the universe. Studies reveal that 432hz tuning unifies the properties of light, time, space, matter, gravity and magnetism with biology, the DNA code, and consciousness. When atoms and DNA start to resonate in harmony with the spiraling pattern of nature, our sense of connection with nature is magnified. The number 432 is reflected in ratios of the Sun, Earth, and the moon as well as in the precession of the equinoxes, the Great Pyramid of Egypt, Stonehenge, and many other sacred sites.

So what’s the big deal? It’s just a difference of 8 Hz. It’s actually quite a nefarious plan. The recent discoveries of vibratory or oscillatory nature of the universe that happened recently show that this contemporary international pitch standard may actually generate an unhealthy effect or anti-social behavior in the consciousness of humans.

There is also a theory which says that the change from 432 Hz to 440 Hz was dictated by Nazi propaganda minister, named Joseph Goebbels. He used it in order to make people think and feel a certain manner, as well as to make them a prisoner of a certain consciousness. 440 Hz is an unnatural standard tuning frequency, is removed from the symmetry of sacred vibrations, and has declared war on the subconscious mind of Western Man.

The powers that be are successfully lowering the vibrations of not only the younger generations but of all of us. Such destructive frequencies turn thoughts towards disruption, disharmony, and disunity. 440 Hz also stimulates our brain – the controlling organ of our body - into a disharmonious resonance, which ultimately creates disease and war in the world. All disease is a disruption in frequency. Atoms are made of waves and vibrations. Therefore everything is sound. A disruptive or unhealthy frequency can cause big problems in a world made of sound waves!!

Both vibration and frequency hold a critically important yet hidden power to affect us, our lives, health, society; our whole world. The science of Cymatics, the study of visible sound and vibration, proves that frequency and vibration are the master keys and the organizational foundation for the creation of all matter and life on planet Earth.

When the sound waves move through a physical medium, such as sand, air, water, etc.; the frequency of the waves has a direct effect upon the structures that are created by the sound waves as they pass through that particular medium. The same will happen with cells in the human body.

Frequency isn’t the only way music affects our civilization. Music lyrics are known to cast spells on the masses. Modern society may not treat music as a magical thing now, but once music was considered to be one of the highest forms of magic. If we look back to ancient times, drums and other instruments were used to celebrate holy-days, invoke trance-like states, or announce the start of a battle. The people in ancient times who sang, danced, and made music were once thought of as spiritually-gifted individuals.

Music magick is still alive and well in modern times. We might not see it in the mainstream music industry, but it’s there if we dig a little deeper. First – think of the way music makes you feel. Music is known to rouse energy and stimulate emotions. Given that energy is what magic is all about, music is a fantastic tool for spellcasting!

A spell is defined as

1- A form of words used as a magical charm or incantation.

2- A state of enchantment caused by a magic spell.

3- An ability to control or influence people as the one had magical power over them.

The intention of any song could very easily be spell casting and the masses would have no idea. The term MC stands for Master of Ceremonies. Concerts are ceremonies. Ceremonies are where ritual magic is done. Are you seeing what is happening here? The masses are being placed under spells and casting negative spells on themselves via their favorite music all the time! They’re also generating energy for these celebrities satanic ritual abuse ceremonies! I’m not saying that you don’t need to listen to music but I am saying you must be very mindful of what you do consume in every way. That includes what material you let into your consciousness. There are apps in every App Store one can download that will switch your music to 432 Hz. I advise everyone to do this. Increase demand could mean more and better apps that convert music to the proper frequency.

One simple song can invoke feelings of joy, sorrow, laughter; essentially every emotion under the sun. One song can whisk us away to a past moment in our lives, good and bad. Music can be used in mental and physical therapy to aid in healing the body, mind, and soul. One can use the emotions felt through music and its unique, fluid energy in magic. Intention can and does make music witchcraft.

Witches can help improve or focus their magic by incorporating music into spells and rituals. Lyrics aren't the only consideration. Beats, measure, instruments, etc. can also be used in music magic.

Music is also used on the people as a form of mind control. Mind control techniques have been noted throughout history dating as far back as Ancient Egypt. Mind control did not enter the realm of modern science until the 1930’s when a physician by the name of Josef Mengele brought it into full practice within Nazi concentration camps. The majority of Mengele’s research within mind control remains classified to this day, however some has slowly come to the surface including the recognition of it being the basis for the covert CIA research program MK Ultra.

Joseph Mengele sounds like a psychopath by all accounts and his mind control programs are nothing short of inhumane. The number of crimes committed against humanity by those in power is too many to count. All celebrities are forced to undergo MK Ultra programming to some degree. This programming breaks down the human spirit and can create alter egos. It is done in order to brainwash these people into doing anything their masters and “fame” requires. Several celebrities have begun speaking out about the torture and programming they endured at the hands of the Hollywood and music industries.

Symbolism is used heavily in mind control programming. The all-seeing eye, demons, and baphomet are just a few of the reoccurring themes that love appearing in entertainment; often in completely unrelated ways to the content. These themes can be noted throughout music videos, movies, and TV shows. The existence of this symbology is one thing I feel can be stated as fact. The symbology is clearly there. Watch see any of the following music videos and then tell me the symbology and themes are a mere coincidence or are directly related to the songs content:

* Lil Wayne – Love Me (Explicit) ft. Drake, Future

* Ke$ha – Die Young

* Lady Gaga – Alejandro

* Katy Perry – Wide Awake

* Britney Spears – Hold It Against Me

If you truly feel that the symbols were fitting and not purposely placed, I will respect that opinion. However I encourage you to search for a breakdown of the above listed videos in order to make sure you are made aware of symbology and themes. There may be some you missed or may not be aware of. It’s also worth noting that these 5 videos are not the only videos out there, they are simply a handful of the hundreds (if not thousands) of music videos that feature these symbols to some degree.

Assuming that these symbols/themes do recur, the question becomes why? Is it a level of programming that they are attempting to inflict on us the viewers? Could it be to desensitize us to their existence and placement throughout society? Or could it simply be artistic coincidence? The answer to these questions lie within. Let this article be a starting point for your own research and findings on all of the aspects of 440 Hz, music magick, and Monarch mind control programming (MK Ultra.) There is a lot of information and well-formulated opinions out there, many worth considering.

Once you have done your research, see what resonates with you as true and don’t be afraid to stand by it even if it isn’t in-line with popular opinion. No matter which side of the spectrum you stand on having an awareness towards this subject is important, and that’s why I felt inspired to write this article.

[youllallriseintheink]

Like it Never Happened: Chapter 3.

This is a post ink-hell story, and contrary to its title, a major theme in it is that a return to normalcy is an uphill climb, often requiring one redefine what normalcy means to them.

This chapter focuses on Thomas Connor and Allison Pendle. It deals with some of the mechanics of how the trapped souls are making it out. There may be a fourth or possibly fifth chapter, but I’m not sure.

Jennifer Adams, one of the soldiers tasked with the rescue of the dozens of people whose souls were locked within the sketch dimension, had fucked up big time. To be more specific, she’d shot Allison Angel.

Not that shooting ink creatures in general was a big deal- you couldn’t collect an ink creature’s soul without killing them- but in Allison’s case, she and her partner, Peter Felman, should have been making a good rapport with her. While they were free to capture the souls in any order they found them, their first priority was to locate and bring back the soul of Thomas Connor, a mechanic who had been indispensable in designing and building the machine, and would no doubt be a valuable source of information on it. In Jennifer’s defense, another Alice had broken her last partner’s arm and put him out of commission just days before, not to mention all the trouble she’d caused back when they were solely tasked with finding the souls of lost ones, as the government research branch only recently discovered how to bring back those who were transformed into cartoons.

Right after she’d shot her, Peter had instinctively taken out the seeing tool in order to see her soul, and had snatched it up and put it into a small glass jar. Then, realizing whose soul they’d just snatched, he opened the jar and let it flow back to the ink machine, as all souls did down here.

All Jennifer could hope for now is that they could get the angel to speak using torture. She and Peter had been waiting by the ink machine for a few hours, playing cards, when it finally gurgled to life.

The two soldiers got up from their card game, Peter taking a rope with him. Allison came out slowly- it was almost like seeing a person be 3D-printed. Peter was incredible with knots, and her calves (already kicking!) were tied together within seconds of their appearance from the machine’s nozzle. Half a minute later, she fell to the ground, and Peter was tying up her arms as Jennifer held her down.

“Let me go! Why are you doing this?” she yelled, still struggling against the ropes, teeth gritted.

“Sorry about this, but we need to make sure you won’t run away or attack us. We aren’t here to hurt you. We are soldiers working for the US military, and we are the reason why there are no lost ones in this world anymore. We released them all. They are currently living outside this dimension, in a better, safer world. We understand that you’re very close with a Boris named ‘Tom.’ Is that true?”

“Why should I trust you or tell you anything?” Her tone was more curious than anything. At very least, she’d calmed down surprisingly quickly.

“I’d like for you to do that because we’re offering you a way out. But if you want to do things the hard way, we can.” Jennifer took out her handgun and pointed it to Allison kneecap.

“Wait-” Allison interjected, “What is that?”

“A gun.”

“No... I mean its colour. It’s like black, but lighter, and... and cooler somehow. I think Henry told me about this once. Is it blue?”

Jennifer kept the gun trained at her knee. “Yes. Now are you talking or are we going to have to make you talk?”

“I’ll talk. I don’t know how I didn’t see this before! You’re so detailed... and your hair almost matches my skin- just like Henry. You must be from the outside. Whatever you need to know, I’ll tell you!”

“Where is Tom?”

“He’s probably in our safehouse. It’ll be easier if I show you.”

Jennifer looked over to her partner, and they silently agreed to untie her legs. They followed behind her, guns still drawn, her sword still confiscated, her hands still bound.

“Do you mind if I ask a few more questions as we walk?” Allison asked.

“I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to answer them, but go ahead,” Jennifer replied.

“Well, I know that you’re letting everyone go, but aside from Tom, there’s one case that I was hoping you could focus on. You see, one of the people turned into a cartoon character is... well, a 17-year-old kid. Tom and I found the book he wrote. We tried finding him a couple times, but came up empty. I hate to think about him, all alone in this dangerous place. If I give you the book, can you promise me to try and find him quickly, and to let me know when he’s revived and reunited with his mother?”

“Well, not all of that is my directive, but I can promise you that I’ll try to find him, and that I’ll ask the appropriate people about the rest of that stuff.”

Allison’s whole face lit up. “Thank you! Oh, thank you. And for releasing us, too. I would be hugging you if I weren’t walking you through dangerous territory with my hands tied up!”

Jennifer smiled. She’d had a lot of encounters with ink creatures, but she’d never been thanked before. She’d never even been able to explain their aims before.

“Next question: am I poor? Buddy made being poor sound pretty bad. But, I don’t remember anything about the life I had before this. I... did have one, right? It seems like all toons did... right?”

“Well, almost all- and trust me, you’re not an exception. Memory loss is extremely common among ink creatures- they have ways of getting everything back. You’re Allison Connor, the wife of Thomas Connor. I don’t know anything else about you- I was just told enough to get through this mission. But I imagine that his work puts you above the poverty line, anyhow.”

Allison had apparently forgotten all about matters of poverty and spent the rest of their short trip gushing about being married to Thomas.

Once they reached the safehouse, Allison kept Tom from tearing their throats out and told him the good news. The room was quickly filled with feelings of celebration and camaraderie. They handed Jennifer a book entitled, “Dreams Come to Life.” Then, when their inky backs were turned, Jennifer and Peter filled Tom and Allison with bullets and collected their souls. It had been nice to be honest for once, but they couldn’t have been too honest about the process of coming back to life. Afterwards they immediately headed back to the surface to hand Thomas Connor’s soul over to the researchers, as had been their protocol.

---

A day later, Thomas Connor fell out of the ink machine, landing on his feet. The blue mat he’d fallen onto told him what had happened before he could even look at his detailed, brown, ungloved hands. Thomas collapsed to the floor, overwhelmed with relief.

Over the next few hours, Thomas filled the researchers in on everything he knew about the machine. They told him plenty as well- for starters, that Allison would come out of the machine the next day and would be entirely restored and ready to go home, and that they would immediately see about contacting Buddy’s mother. They found him a place to sleep for the night, handed him a pamphlet on his new body, and he was on his way.

Everything was fine now. Thomas had spent over a decade stewing in guilt over what damage his machine could have possibly caused, and he’d spent a year and a half seeing it first hand- the lives cut short and locked in this hellish landscape. That was over now. The damage was going to be repaired the best it could be. Who knew- maybe the government would even find a beneficial use for the ink machine: bringing back endangered species, making prosthetic limbs... there were obvious bad uses for it, too, but hey, none of it would be his fault. The ink machine was no longer on his shoulders, and soon, he and Allison would be back in their lovely California home, going back to their mundane, contented lives.

Then, the phone rang. Thomas picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hello. Is this Thomas Connor?” The voice sounded sympathetic. Bad sign.

“Yes.”

There was a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid I have two pieces of bad news. Firstly, Buddy’s mother died several years ago. He has no living family members.”

“Okay,” Thomas said, voice low. Well, he knew that not all the damage he’d done could be undone. The kid had lost the time he could have had with his mother. Fair. “What’s the second part?”

“We won’t be able to bring back Allison’s memories. Usually disentangling the individual from their other presence- in this case an Alice Angel toon- brings everything right back. Well, we did, but she still doesn’t remember anything from before her sacrifice. Her memories weren’t stored away where she couldn’t find them- they’re gone like erased marker off a whiteboard. I’m sorry. We have social workers who could hook her up with a living relative, if you want. Do you still want to take her home with you?”

“Of course I do!” Thomas yelled, furious both at the situation and at the question. “She’s my wife! She was my wife in the sketch dimension, and she’ll still be my wife now!” With that, Thomas slammed the phone down. Of course Joey would have taken this from him. He was sure that it was nothing personal- he had a sense that Allison had known things even he didn’t about that machine. Still, it hurt.

But, all they could do was try to carry on. The next day, Thomas watched Allison emerge from the ink machine. He was the first thing she saw in the real world.

“Hey, Allison. This is Tom.”

Allison stared at him a moment. “You aren’t Tom. I would remember my own husband- I don’t know who you are.”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah. You aren’t getting your memories back. I’ll explain why later. But anyhow, let’s go home.

It had been too long since he’d seen her true form. And Allison seemed to like it, too. The two of them flew back to California soon after. Thankfully, Allison did at least seem to remember most things about how the world worked- perhaps due to Alice, who’d had her memories of living in her cartoon world to draw on. What’s more, their house was still waiting for them- apparently Allison’s relatives hadn’t or had only recently given up the hunt for them. Eighteen months of dust covered all the surfaces, and the plants in the garden had all either overgrown or died, but Thomas was still grateful that they had been gone more briefly than most and could pick up their lives more easily. There was so much to do- relatives to call and say, “hey, I’m alive!” to topped the list. But that could wait until tomorrow. Today, it was late. As the two settled into bed, Allison said,

“Hey. I know this is going to take a lot of patience from you. But I’m going to try to be just like Allison was, alright? Tell me about her tomorrow. She has a nice body, and good taste in homes and husbands. That’s a good start.”

Thomas laughed a little. “Sure. Glad you like what she has, since you can’t exactly trade. I’ll do my best, too, with the readjusting. That’s a promise.”

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #my fanfiction #Like it Never Happened #Thomas Connor #allison pendle #Allison Angel

[striving-toward-170]

The juicing and weight loss correlation explained – Plus 7 juicing recipes

The truth about juicing and weight loss  Did you know that juicing is one of the most effective weight loss tools around? When combined with regular exercises, juicing can help you lose the entire unhealthy artery-clogging fat in your body. So your juicer is the equivalent of your treadmill now. Juicing and fresh juices have innumerable health benefits and weight loss is just one tiny part of it. But how can juices help in weight loss when fruits and vegetables do not burn any calories? This is an interesting question that has many answers to it.

 Kill the cravings  There are different fruits that help in different ways to lose weight and control appetite. The first universal reason is that fruits and vegetables are devoid of any unhealthy fat or cholesterol. So if you can replace one of your meals with a juice, then you are eliminating that much fat, oil and cholesterol from your diet. In place of these harmful substances, you are giving the body quality nutrients, vitamins and enzymes. So juicing can give you a fat-free low-calorie meal, which is what you are looking for while trying to lose weight.

  Fresh juices  have also been known to reduce the craving or hunger. This is a big positive in weight loss programs. Oftentimes people will consume diet pills, cosmetic products or sugar filled drinks in a desperate attempt to kill their appetite. Some even smoke to suppress their appetite (I know)… When you have a healthy alternative to it, then why go for all these toxic stuff? Fresh carrot juice is a prime example. It helps the body to maintain the healthy blood sugar level thereby eliminating any hunger cravings. Parsley is another good source of appetite-killing juice.

  Related:  Skin beauty and diet tips for today’s working women PLUS healthy snack tips 

  If you are facing a problem caused by water retention in your body, then some juices like cucumber juice, cranberry and watermelon can help you out. These are natural diuretics and will help you to get rid of the water in your body. Green vegetables have been known to possess abilities to clean and heal the liver. So mixing those greens into your juicing recipes might just be a great idea.

   There is no fixed recipe for fruit vegetable combinations. You can let your imagination run wild and do a lot of experimenting with juicing. While there are certain  recipes which taste good , you can always make the others taste better by adding your own secret ingredient. A few grapes might improve the taste of otherwise bland-tasting juices. So also honey is a good ingredient which improves the taste and is a great alternative for sugar. After you start off experimenting with juicing, you are bound to have your own menu and recipe list of healthy super tasty juices. So start off now.

 Juicing for nutrition  The popularity of juice beverages extracted from fruits and vegetables has grown in recent years for several reasons. The development of high-powered electric juicing machines makes preparation easier than ever. At the same time, more information is available about the nutritional and health value of the vitamins and minerals contained in fruits and vegetables. Current national dietary guidelines emphasize the importance of consuming lots of fruits and vegetables on a daily basis.

 Many people believe that juicing is one of the things they can do to generate good health and prevent disease. People view juicing as a way to increase personal energy and avoid common health problems. Aficionados of juicing believe that consuming fruits and vegetables in a liquid or pureed form offers several important health and  nutritional advantages. 

    Direct digestion  When fruits and vegetables are consumed in liquid form, the vitamins and minerals and other nutrients reach the body’s bloodstream more quickly. The digestive process required for whole foods is bypassed and the nutrients in the juice are delivered directly to the intestinal walls. Juicing in a sense “pre-digests” the fruits and vegetables.

  Raw foods  Juicing provides an alternative to cooking, which is thought to reduce and even destroy some of the nutrients present in fruits and vegetables in their raw form. These nutrients — vitamins, minerals, amino acids, essential fatty acids, antioxidants, and enzymes — are often stripped away when the food is cooked or preserved.

  Metabolic boost and weight loss  Enzymes play an important role in metabolism but are found mainly in raw foods. Enzymes have a direct impact on your metabolic rate because they convert food into body tissue and energy. Thus, it is believed that increased consumption of enzymes will boost your metabolic rate, causing you to burn more  calories and lose weight. 

  Longevity  The absorption of antioxidants plays a role in promoting longevity and delaying the effects of aging. Antioxidants neutralize the free radicals that are thought to play a role in degenerative diseases such as cataracts, high blood pressure, and cancer.

  Combat diabetes  Persons with Type 2 diabetes have a resistance to insulin, a substance generated by the pancreas. In healthy people insulin regulates sugar levels in the bloodstream. However, diabetics’ bodies are incapable of producing the insulin in the quantities needed to process and digest sugars. Experts sometimes advise diabetics to avoid sugars altogether, including those found in fresh fruit. However, recent research has shown that certain raw fruits and vegetables provide key nutrients — including vitamins A, B, and E, iron, and potassium — that may help diabetics to manage their disease in a natural way.

  Vitamin B7 — found in mangoes, nectarines, and peaches — is particularly helpful in assisting the digestive process and activating enzymes.  Manganese — found in carrots, celery, cruciferous vegetables, garlic, beet greens, parsley, and spinach — helps reduce insulin resistance and improves the metabolic rate.   The bottom line is that juicing offers a delicious way to improve your health and  boost your energy.  There are many health food stores and restaurants that cater to the savvy consumer who values a variety of power drinks and smoothies. But you also can easily prepare your own juice drinks at home using high-powered electric juicers and a variety of juice recipes recommended by the health experts.

 Like every good thing, the best juicer is an informed juicer. A little time spent studying the benefits of the various vitamins, minerals and other nutrients to determine the best combination for treating your specific condition, disease, or disorder might be well worth the effort in terms of living a longer, healthier, happier life.

 You already know the amazing benefits associated with consuming fruits and vegetables on a daily basis. If you’re juicing for weight loss, you need a balanced diet of the right fruits and vegetables. To help get you started, consider these seven must try recipes for an entire week of juicing. Just juice in the order listed for best results (and taste).

  Day One   ½ Pineapple (core it and cut into cubes)  1 cup Strawberries  1 Pear  30 Leaves of Mint    Day Two   1 Orange (include everything)  1/8 Pineapple (cored and cut into pieces)  2 Carrots (scrub, but don’t peel)  ½ Lemon    Day Three   2 Oranges  3 Red Beets    Day Four   2 Apples  ½ Cantaloupe  ½ Honeydew Melon  6 Kale Leaves  6 Swiss Chard Leaves    Day Five   2 cups Romaine (wash first)  2 Granny Smith Apples  1 Orange (whole)  2 Stalks of Celery  ½ Cucumber (include skin and seeds)    Day Six   2 Comice Pears  2 Fennel Bulbs    Day Seven   6 Kale Leaves  2 Cups Spinach (rinsed first)  ½ Cucumber  4 Stalks of Celery  2 Green Apples    Each recipe is enough to serve one person. These delicious, healthy drinks are perfect for those who are juicing for weight loss, even if you’re just looking to shed a few pounds for the summer. Juicing packs your diet full of healthy, fulfilling calories while still allowing you to lose weight. Replace your high calorie snacks and meals with a  low calorie juice.  After just one week of juicing you’ll instantly notice you have more energy, your skin looks better and you even sleep better at night. If you’re new to juicing, start with the sweeter juices first. Slowly work your way into the green, more  vegetable-packed recipes.  This will help adjust your taste and before long you’ll be craving the deep green drinks!

 Brought to you by…

        The post  The juicing and weight loss correlation explained – Plus 7 juicing recipes  appeared first on  Technology Watchpost .

https://bit.ly/2LErZCV