#I think she and my professor are disappointed in me for missing that presentation | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angel-in-shibari · 6 months

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Lune and Dawn

Episode 2: Teacher's Pet "I must admit, searching petplay porn in my class during our lesson on Pavlov is honestly quite pathetic" ~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn Summers knocked on the door of the professor's office. Dr Lune Sinclair was a brilliant psychology professor, and their class was engaging and challenging. Unfortunately, Dawn was falling behind in her studies and her GPA was slipping.

“You wanted to see me, Dr Sinclair?” Dawn was nervous. She had never spoken with one of her professors outside of class.

“Yes, Miss Summers. Please come in and take a seat.” Their voice was smooth and calming, not at all like their loud enthusiasm they had in the lecture hall.

Dawn entered the small office and looked around. The antique wooden desk was covered in papers, trophies, a laptop and a desktop computer. On the dark brown walls of the room were many accomplishments, such as degrees and awards and certifications. Dr Sinclair was a highly decorated professor, and they took immense pride in their work.

Behind the professor was a large window. The dark sky was dimly lit by the lights of a few dorms. Dawn wondered why her professor had requested they meet so late. It was already past 7, and the December air was frigid. Dawn dreaded walking back to her dorm. She prayed it wouldn't start snowing before her meeting was finished.

In the window, Dawn caught a glimpse of something she couldn't quite understand at first. A transparent square floating just above the trees. Until suddenly it made sense; it was the reflection of Dr Sinclair’s computer screen. Although it was difficult to make out, she could see the silhouette of a woman's body. Dawn quickly tried to ignore it and focus on her meeting with her professor.

“Good evening, Dr Sinclair.”

“Good evening to you, Miss Summers. Thank you for coming so late. I wanted to discuss your grade in my class. I’m very disappointed with your recent performance. Your paper on classical conditioning was… let’s just say it was underwhelming”

Their words cut like glass. Although they spoke softly and calmly, Dawn felt like they were brerating and attacking her for her performance. She had put so much time into that paper. To be told it was “underwhelming” was heartbreaking

“I’m very sorry, professor,” Dawn apologized. “If you want me to redo it, I can have a new version by-”

“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” Dr Sinclair interrupted. “You already disappointed me once, I would hate for it to happen again. I actually have an alternative project, just for you. Think of it as… extra credit.”

Dawn shifted slightly in her seat. She was nervous, but willing to accept anything to bring her grade up. She nodded.

“Wonderful!” the professor continued, “I think you’ll find a hands-on experiment much more engaging than a boring research paper. Although you may be apprehensive at first, I’m certain you’ll come to respect my… unconventional methods”

The psychology professor opened a drawer in their desk and pulled out a small plastic object with a single button. Dawn was confused.

“I’m sorry Doctor, but is that a training clicker? For, like, dogs?”

“Right you are, my young pupil. As you know, classical conditioning was founded by Ivan Pavlov. If you had been paying attention in class, you’d know he trained dogs by repeatedly ringing a bell as they received food. Eventually they’d salivate at the ring of the bell even with no food present.”

“Yes, sir. I’m well aware of Pavlov. But what does this have to do with a clicker? Is it the same sort of conditioning?”

“Yes, you’re correct. But in our experiment, we won’t be using dogs. We’ll be using you”

“W-what? Fucking… excuse me?!” Dawn was shocked. Was her professor seriously about to try and treat her like a dog?

“Let me rephrase myself. I intend to test the effectiveness of classical conditioning when applied to helping improve one’s focus and attention. And you seem like the perfect test subject”

“You have got to be joking. Are you seriously gonna be treating me like a fucking dog?”

“Watch your language, young lady!” Dr Sinclair raised her voice. But Dawn didn’t back down.

“What, are you gonna make me wear a dog collar, too?”

“I mean, if that would help with your training, I’m more than happy to accommodate.”

“Forget this shit! You’re insane!” Dawn got up and started towards the door

“Miss Summers, I urge you to reconsider. I’m sure you’d accept failing my class, but I doubt you’d want your entire internet browsing data revealed to the entire campus.”

Dawn froze in her tracks. She turned back and saw the professor turn the computer screen, no longer facing the window, but now towards her. She could clearly see a figure of a nude woman on all fours wearing nothing but a dog collar and pup mask. Dawn knew she had seen that exact image before. She had looked it up on her phone in class last week.

“H-how? How did you get that?”

They tapped a key on their keyboard and the tab switched, this time showing another one of Dawn's depraved search results

“I have my ways. I must admit, searching petplay porn in my class during our lesson on Pavlov is honestly quite pathetic.”

Dawn’s face turned bright red. This was beyond embarrassing for her.

“P-please don’t tell anyone I was looking at that!”

“Of course not, dear. It’ll be our little secret. Just as long as you listen to me and do as I say. Please, take a seat. I want to begin our experiment as soon as possible”

Dawn did as they instructed, and her professor cleared their desk of everything except a clipboard, pen, and the clicker.

“Thank you, Dawn. I want you to trust me. As long as we’re in my office, we’re on a first name basis. I want you to feel safe and comfortable. I’m not your professor right now, but a friend.”

“You want me to call you Lune? Not Dr Sinclair?”

“I mean, I can tell you’ve never taken French by your pronunciation. But yes, please call me Lune”

Dawn nodded, slightly embarrassed. The whole situation was incredibly humiliating. She had no idea how it could possibly get any worse.

Lune spoke again. “Aww, the way you blush is just adorable.”

“Can we please just get this over with?” Dawn blurted at them.

“My my.. So feisty. Yes, dear let us get started. First, a quick recap. Tell me what you remember about classical conditioning.”

Dawn tried to remember what she heard when half-paying-attention in class. “Uh… so there’s the unconditioned stimulus which causes the unconditioned response. But if you associate the unconditioned stimulus with another conditioned stimulus enough, eventually the subject reacts to the conditioned stimulus with the same response.”

“Look at you. So smart…” Lune spoke softly and sweetly, before quickly shifting her tone. “Despite being such a pervert in my class and never paying attention.”

“Uh.. ma’am?” Dawn inquired.

“What is it, darling?”

“So I know that the clicker is the conditioned stimulus and the desired response I guess would be better focus and attention. But… what would the unconditioned stimulus be? Like, what would you get me to associate the clicker with?”

“Oh, I’m so glad you asked,” Lune said with a sadistic smile. They reached into their drawer again and pulled out another small pink device. They placed it on the table. “Do you know what this is?” They asked.

Dawn just stared at the pink toy, completely frozen. Of course she knew what it was. But she couldn’t admit that to her professor. A mix of contradicting emotions and thoughts raced through her head, completely preventing her from acting. Should she lie to Lune? No, they’d probably know if she was lying. In fact, hadn’t she looked up this exact device on an online shopping website the other week? If Lune had her search history, they would already know that she knew what it was. There was no point in lying. Dawn was completely trapped.

“I-its… uh… a vibrator. One you can control with your phone.”

“Wonderful. I was expecting you would lie and say you had no idea what it was. But I'm glad you realized that was a pointless move. Now, to answer your question, this is going to be the unconditioned stimulus. I’ll turn the vibrator on at the same time as I click, and eventually you’ll associate pleasure with the sound of a click. Do you understand? Is that okay with you?”

Dawn sunk into the chair. Felt like she was about to die of embarrassment. She could hardly even look Lune in the eyes. “If I say no, you’ll leak my search history. This isn’t fair!”

“Oh, no. I’m sorry. I lied about that to get you to stay. I would never do such a thing. You have a choice, and either way your secret is safe with me. You can leave right now and we can both forget everything about this evening. However, I do want to remind you that you are failing this class. Looking at your record, you already have enough missed credits. One more failed class and you’ll probably be kicked out of school. I’d hate for you to ruin your life over something like this. I want to help you, dear. But this is your choice to make”

Dawn looked up at Lune. They had a fiery hunger in their eyes. But the rest of their face was calm and gentle and sympathetic. Dawn was extremely flustered. Her face was a wonderful shade of crimson. Being treated like a dog and experimented on by her professor was absolutely humiliating. But also… kind of hot…

“Do you promise you won’t tell anyone else? Not about my search history and not about what we do tonight?” Dawn was furious, but she knew what choice she had to make.

“Not a soul. I swear,” Lune promised.

After a moment's hesitation, Dawn sighed “Fine. Give me the vibe.” and grabbed the pink toy off the desk. “And don’t look!” she demanded as she turned around and lifted the front of her skirt.

Lune swiveled in their chair. Dawn fixed the small bullet vibe inside her panties, making sure it was comfortable. She began to regret her decision, but took a deep breath and pulled her tights back up and lowered her skirt.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Dawn said irately. She muttered under her breath how stupid this whole thing was, but Lune couldn’t hear her.

“Perfect” Lune shivered with anticipation. They were way too excited for this. “Now take a seat. I’m going to use the clicker a couple times on its own. I want you to tell me if you feel anything.”

Dawn nodded. She closed her eyes and listened. /click/ … /click/ … /click/ …

“I felt nothing. It was just a clicking noise.”

“That’s to be expected, dear. Right now it’s just the neutral stimulus. Now, let's try just the vibrator.” Lune tapped a button on their phone. And immediately the toy buzzed.

Dawn sharply inhaled and her legs wiggled involuntarily. The pleasure rushed through her body like a tidal wave. The feeling of being pleasured by someone else without them even touching you was a wonderful new sensation to Dawn. And it was over far too quick. After two seconds, Lune released the button and the buzzing stopped.

“How was that?” Lune asked.

Dawn opened her eyes, and readjusted herself in the chair. “Uh… it was alright. Thank you.”

“So, are we ready to continue? I want to combine the vibe and clicker together.”

Dawn nodded, and Lune smiled sweetly. They were going to have so much fun with this experiment of theirs.

Before Dawn even had a chance to prepare herself, Lune pressed the clicker, and then the button on their phone a moment later.

/click/

Just after she heard the noise, the toy buzzed for an instant, causing her legs to shake slightly. She took a breath and tried to recompose herself. But Lune wasn’t about to give her a break

/click/

Again, the vibration stimulated her body. Without realizing it, Dawn began to subconsciously associate the sound of the clicker with the stimulation from the vibrator.

/click/

As they tapped the button on their phone, Professor Sinclair began their usual classroom lecture.

“I’m performing what’s called delayed conditioning. I’m activating the vibe just after the clicker. A short break in between the two causes a stronger association. If I instead pressed the clicker and activated the vibe at the exact same time, called simultaneous conditioning, there would be very little or even no conditioned response.”

/click/

“Uh huh… yeah… makes sense.” Dawn could hardly focus on her professor’s words.

/click/

Dawn couldn’t contain herself. Of course, she was nowhere close to coming. But the sensation was certainly arousing. Her excitement was building more and more, until…

/click/

Dawn moaned, before quickly covering her mouth in embarrassment.

“Oh wow! I didn’t think this was such a turn on for you.” Lune laughed. “Do you want to know the best part? I didn’t even activate the vibrator that last time. That was your conditioned response.”

Dawn looked up at Lune, dumbfounded by the reveal. The sight of her face was too adorable for Lune to not torment just a bit more.

/click/

Dawn moaned again, this time noticing the lack of stimulation down below.

“Look at you. Moaning to the sound of a training clicker. It’s just precious.”

/click/

“mmm… Fuck! Stop!” Dawn begged.

“Aww, darling, I’m not doing anything. It’s you who’s getting turned on by a clicker.”

/click/

“But I think we’ve both had enough fun for tonight. I should send you on your way before I get you even more worked up.”

Dawn tried to gather her composure and readjust herself.

“M-my extra credit?” she asked, almost incoherently.

“Taken care of. If you do well on the finals, you’ll most certainly pass this class. Thank you for your help with my little experiment. You’re fine to leave.”

“Uh… thank you, Dr Sinclair.” Dawn quickly rushed out of Lune’s office before they could change their mind. So quickly did she leave, that she completely forgot about the small vibrator still in her panties.

Maybe Lune would torment Dawn just a bit more. They could turn up the vibration slightly as she walked, and play with her a bit longer. At least until she was out of range of her phone that is.

No, that would be too mean. After all, Dawn would be tormented much more during tomorrow’s lecture, when she discovered that the remote Dr Sinclair used to change slides made the exact same sound as the clicker.

#dostxt #//my writing #Lune and Dawn #🌙+☀️#//dubcon #tw blackmail #//petplay

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hannie-dul-set · 1 year

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#𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗙𝗟𝗜𝗖𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗥𝗬 𝟭𝟬 — debate.

resident slacker turned achiever overnight? what the hell happened! it all started when the both of you got grouped together for a class presentation— you got your first unsatisfactory grade, and park sunghoon got his ego bruised for the first time. conflict is perpetual in all societal spheres. but when it’s two unhealthily competitive and prideful people gnawing at each other’s throats, conflict becomes all the more entertaining.

it’s been twenty minutes since miss han entered the classroom, but there’s still no sign of park sunghoon. considering the fact that sim jaeyun looks like he’s about to cry, he probably doesn’t know where his friend is either. your professor is getting impatient, eyes flitting to her wristwatch as she sits in the moderator chair between the two podiums. “does your team have a backup speaker?” she directs it to the cluster sitting on the left. they all look at each other in uncertainty.

“miss han, i’ll go look for him.”

all eyes on you, you rise from your seat. the nod from miss han signals you out of the classroom.

he’s probably on the first floor, you think to yourself. now, you aren’t doing this out of worry or concern, nor is it from the virtuous desire to win the ridiculous bet fair and square— you simply do not wish for park sunghoon to be let off so easily.

you poured your whole week into preparing for this event. you have no intentions of arguing with anyone else except him because like he said, if there’s anyone capable of dancing to your tune, matching your tempo— it’s him (even if you had to insult him a dozen times over for him to get to this point. even if he’s only doing this to spite you).

“there you are.”

barging into every single unlocked classroom wasn’t the most efficient, but you’re glad to see his face when you cracked open the last door.

sunghoon looks up when you enter, leaning against the far left windows right across from you. the skin on his bottom lip is slightly red and taut. there’s sheets and sheets of papers in his hands, desk, and the ground. you walk up to him. he tells you to go away and ducks down to pick up his notes. “where did all your confidence go?” you flatly say, stopping your stride right in front of a stray sheet. “i thought you wanted to put me in my place? what about our bet?”

his hand hovers above the piece of paper by your foot. he pauses. the air is cold in the classroom. you failed to notice it when you entered.

“i’m not— i’m not running away.”

sunghoon retrieves the sheet and stuffs it with the pile he’s pressing to his chest. when he stands up, his expression is stern— eyebrows furrowed, frowning lips— a sign of movement from his previous frozen expression from when you just entered. he’s relaxed a bit. you smile. “never said you were. and i wouldn’t let you anyway.”

it melts further, his expression— flowering into a slight shock when you offer him such a pleasant look on your face. “didn’t think you were the clingy type.” somehow your smile starts to look a little less pleasant and is now leaning more towards threatening. “alright. i’m good now. i’m ready.”

“great.” you lean down the nearest desk, peeling off a page he overlooked earlier before offering it back to him. “i was almost disappointed, park sunghoon.”

his hand is ice cold, brushing against your when he snatches back the paper, his breath is shaky when he bites back with a retort as you both exit the classroom, and his face is paler than normal when he finally faces you off in the podium.

he’s nervous. he’s evidently nervous.

“three minutes to give your speech. park sunghoon for the affirmative, you may begin.”

but he does well anyway. stutters and long pauses aside, park sunghoon knows how to do well when he puts his mind to it, when he wants to. and you can tell right now, while waiting for the timer to signal your opportunity to demerit his fortuitous arguments, while listening as the cadence of his voice slowly grows more and more confident, that what he wants at this very moment is to beat you— to snatch that gold from your neck and have you fall on your knees and admit your loss.

you like that.

but unfortunately for sunghoon, you want the same thing.

going easy isn’t in your vocabulary, and you want to make sure it doesn’t return in his— even if it means completely obliterating him in the interpellation.

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

NOTE — sorry this was a few days late i couldn't spare the time to transfer the written part to tumblr 😭😭.

TAGLIST (open) — @cerealdreamwriter @tyongff-ff @dinonuguaegi @dammit-jjk @tobiosbbyghorl @chaemmie @lgbtsana @gg1609 @jrjr289 @jyndre @hoonpalettes @nikitopia @certifiedmoa @beomgyusonlywife @fakeuwus

CONFLICT THEORY. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#enhyepn social media au #enhypen sm au #enhypen smau #park sunghoon social media au #park sunghoon sm au #park sunghoon smau #sunghoon soclia media au #sunghoon smau #enhypen x reader #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader

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greenbeansartgallery · 9 months

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Miracle of Chu Chapter 1: The Rise of the Indigo and Purple

Sig finds the Peacock Miraculous and makes a bug friend, things go downhill from there and a Moth heroine is born. AU: @greenysoliatre and @camirazone

Sig let out a yawn. This has been a tiring day and all he did was look to see if there's any new bugs he can find, being the season of summer with the cold being away bugs will come out and play but so far he had very little success.

Before he could call it a day and take a break, a shine of blue stopped him in these tracks.

Coming from his bug catcher net..

Wait, when did that get on his net?

To his disappointment, it was not a bug but a blue broach shaped like five segments of peacock feathers and a black teardrop at the bottom centre.

But at least it looked cool, it was blue and Sig liked the colour blue as it was the colour of the sky and the ocean. With no second of hesitation, he puts it on after taking it out and is met with a bright blue light causing him to shut his eyes to prevent them from being blinded.

As it subsided, a high pitched voice chimed "Hello~!"

Eyes now opened, floating before Sig was a deep blue creature resembling a peacock looking at him with a curious smile.

"Are you the one who found me?"

"Uhh.. I guess I did." The only response he can think of at this point.

Meanwhile in Primp Magic School, class was starting and everyone was present apart from one.

"Umm.. where's Sig?" Lidelle piped up as she took notice there was no sign of him anywhere. It really didn't take a detective to know where he went as everyone knew the answer.

"He's probably still doing his bug hunting. Surely he'll be back..?" Amitie responded with her hopes up. Sig has gotten a bit better keeping track of time, what's wrong with being a little late?

"Maybe one of us should go get him?" Carmen asked. "It's possible he might have fell asleep."

"Don't bother wasting your time, if he's absent from class, that's on him." Klug scoffed as he paid no attention to the disapproving scowl from the others.

Raffina found herself pulling a face at the notion that she does agree with his point.

"Maybe after school one of us could check up on him in case~" The gentle giant known as Tarutaru suggested but before anyone can reply, their one and only teacher Professor Accord arrives

"Hello, children, I hope you enjoyed your break because we have a pop quiz coming up." She greeted as she does an attendance count, everyone was here apart from Sig. Oh dear, she hoped he was alright. Marking him off as absent, Accord made a mental note to speak to him first thing tomorrow if he does make it. "Now time for the pop quiz~"

Back to Sig who couldn't really understand the little bird thing who introduced himself as the Kwa.. me? Kwami of Emotion, Duusu as the name of the bird was trying to tell him as they were panicking kind of like Amitie really when she stresses out. "There's something gone amiss and I really need your help, Sig! Please this is urgent!"

"What's gone a miss though?" All Sig could respond as this sounded too vague for him to understand.

"That's what I'm trying to find out but I can't do this alone, please help!"

"Okay, but how?"

Duusu then proceeded to go on ramble: "Well as I said before I am the Kwami of Emotion. I bestow powers to whoever wears my pin and turn them into a peacock themed superhero! The said power is to manifest people's emotions into creatures known as Sentimonsters."

Senti.. monsters? Sig suddenly became intrigued. "So I could make any creature as long as it's based on people's feelings? Even mine?"

"Yes, yes! But now's not the time! We need to start!" The Kwami of Emotion says flapping their arms frantically. "In order to transform, you just need to say "Duusu, Spread my feathers!" and if you want to detransform you say "Fall my feathers." Can you do that for me?"

Sig still confused as ever decided to go with what he has been given. "Okay.. uhhh..."

May as well give it a shot. "Duusu, spread my feathers, I guess."

And just like that the magic of the Miraculous began to do it's work as Duusu disappeared into the peacock pin and Sig felt an odd power surge through him. It felt great but at the same time so strange. In a sudden flash, he took a look at a nearby pond to see that his hair changed into midnight as his usual outfit transformed into a dark indigo jumpsuit with a blue tailcoat adorned with light magenta buttons and a five pointed tail resembling that of a peacock and dark blue gloves. The hood over his head having a feather straps with a magenta center on each side with three blue feathers. His blue and green running shoes were now high boots, the skin also dull indigo and finally his mismatches eyes came in two different shades of magenta.

With all this blue he's wearing the only superhero name he can think of is Sapphirus like his spell Sapphire.

He wasn't sure how to feel about this new look nor on what to do next. A hand fan that somehow appeared in his hands started glowing, more specifically the feathers on the fan did, giving him a hint on what to do. So on instinct, he plucks a feather.

With a clenched hand, the feeling of confusion turns the feather into blue and flings itself onto the butterfly net.

A dark blob appears taking the shape of an oddly shaped beetle three times his height. Sig couldn't help but take a moment to cheer as he made a new bug friend but the celebration was cut short as the beetle charges at him. On instinct he dodges out of the way and watches his new found bug friend running around the Nahe Woods prompting Sapphirus to give chase, leaving behind the net in the process.

"Wait, bug friend! Come back!" He called out hand reached out as he ran after his first creation. By the time he caught up the large beetle was ready to change at him again.

How can he make it stop?

Maybe a Puyo battle could calm it down-

Wait.. what's that beeping sound?

And suddenly in a flash, Sapphirus' form was reverted back into Sig who only had a second to react and catch the exhausted Duusu in his hands.

Wait what just happened?

"Ah, Sig! Incoming!!" The Kwami screamed as beetle charged causing the bug enthusiast to dodge the attack barely as he ended up flopping on the ground, Duusu encased on his hands in front of his head safely. Having the sudden lack of energy to get up, all Sig could do was watch as the beetle went on its way.

"Oh right, your Miraculous has a timer of five minutes anytime you use your powers and it turns you back after it hits zero.. oops." Duusu says sheepishly, slightly as they turn around to see that their holder isn't getting up.

"Coulda told me this sooner..." Sig drawled as the feeling of sleep takes over and the last thing he heard was his new friend crying out in confusion as he began to pass out.

Somewhere the town square of the resident shop where you can buy almost anything at your convenience run by the one and only Oshare Bones, the dapper skeleton, the door bell chimes indicating a customer has arrived. "Hello, Mr. Oshare!"

Hello, Carmen~!" Oshare Bones greeted as Carmen walked in to take a look at what she was looking to buy. "Just came back from school?"

"Hmm mmm, we had a pop quiz." She looked around the shop to see anything she could buy.

A couple of flower seed packs were a must have on her mental list. Mama mentioned she needed some to grow more Tulips as they were getting sold fast. Also some Hibiscus flowers sound nice to grow, it's the season after all.

After a few minutes of deciding what she wants, she places her would be purchases on the counter and gets ready to pay.

Before the platinum blonde knew it, her eyes caught a glimmer belonging to a small deep purple broach with a silver lining resembling a butterfly of some sort in a plain black wooden box sitting by the counter.

It was memorising as if it was calling out to her. "Oh hoo! Found something else to purchase as well? Carmen?"

Carmen snapped out of her trance and looked at the shop keeper and points at the broach.

"Oh that's just a broach I found while I was on a stroll, I thought it looked cool at first but it looked so UGLY when I brought it in so may as well put it up for sale."

For only a couple of silver coins? Aren't jewellery usually a bit more expensive than that? Carmen wanted to say aloud but choose to say something else. "Could I buy it then?"

"Buy all means, you're doing me a favour getting rid of the drab. That would be two silver coins."

And just like that Carmen handed the coins in favour of the butterfly looking jewellery with a thank you and took off. Oshare was kind enough to call her back in for the other items make her purchase to her relief and embarrassment.

While making her way back home, she couldn't help but stare at the box with fascination, it wasn't everyday Carmen would make such an impulsive purchase as she did, as she was taught better than that by her mothers, the importance of planning on what to buy, difference between a want and a need though a bit of self indulgence didn't hurt but it was rather fortunate it costed her a couple of silver coins.

What isn't fortunate however is that the lack of attention towards her surroundings had the winged student bumping into something causing her to stumble back, nearly dropping the box in the process and bringing her back to reality.

"Sorry-!" She began to apologise looking up and sees a rather shiny looking surface.. odd. She could see her reflection on there, kind of.. Taking a second to pat the surface with her hand, it felt smooth now where did she see and felt this before..?

Steps back and eyes went wide with astonishment, a giant sized beetle?! In the town square?! And why does she feel like she's in danger all of a sudden?

The massive beetle began to move causing her to jolt and make a dash for it only for the creature come at her with a charge with an alarming speed causing her to let out a scream in terror as she tries to outrun it but alas she throws herself to the floor to dodge it. Getting up with her heart feeling like it was burst out of her ribcage, Carmen sits up to see the beetle running around the square, she wasted no time running back home before it sees her, opening the door and shutting with a loud slam slipping to the floor with her back pressed again the door and hand clutching the box to her chest, gasping to regain her breath.

Thankfully Mama was there to see her though it took a while for the girl to explain as she went nonverbal and needed to calm down, eventually telling her mother about this large beetle attacking the town square, Carmen was advised to stay home until it's sorted out. Fleeing to her room, she plops on her bed to bury her face into the soft pillows for a second before looking at the broach one last time, as she opens the box once more and suddenly the broach began to shimmer and a small orb of purple light appeared out of it causing her to reel back into her pillows flinch at the sudden brightness as she watches the ball of light manifest into a small lavender creature with butterfly wings that have a long tail with a tip at the end of each lower wing and large dark purple eyes with a swirl of the matching colour on his forehead.

Doing a small polite bow, the creature begins to speak. "Hello, my name is Nooroo, the Kwami of Transmission. I know this must be overwhelming for you since we just met but I need your help!"

Carmen stay sunk into the pillows gasp and covering her mouth with surprise and adoration. He looked adorable! Wait.. what? Looking around a flock of glowing white butterflies made their acquaintance in her room, did they come from Nooroo?

She sits up properly and flaps her hands as Nooroo continued to ramble. "Wait, wait please slow down! What is it you need my help with?"

"Ah, sorry! It's just that it's very urgent. A great threat is here in Primp and it needs to be stopped before it could get worse. The Miraculous you're holding grants you the power to transform into a superhero."

"The miraculous.. the broach?"

Nooroo nods patiently as he watches Carmen take the time to process what he's saying to her and make a decision.

She stares at him before looking at the broach. A threat in Primp..? It had to be the large beetle creature that's attacking the town square maybe she can use the miraculous to stop it. But.. Did she really deserve the right to be called a superhero? After all she did buy the miraculous instead of earning it. She looked down away from the broach upon thinking about it.

But Nooroo needs her help. She'll just have to put in the hard work to make up for that, looking back at the miraculous then clutching it with eyes back at the lilac kwami, eyes hardened with resolve. "I'll do it, what should I do?"

Nooroo beams with delight at this and answers all of the questions she had in great gusto. Putting on the miraculous and standing up away from her bed, Carmen learns that she can create butterflies that can allow her to choose a champion to bestow a superpower onto based on their emotional state to aid her in combat and in order to transform she just needs to say;

"Nooroo, Wings Rise!"

She felt such power coursing through her as the glowing butterflies danced around her with purple light and Nooroo disappearing into the Miraculous. Carmen took a moment to look at the new change of appearance. A dark purple and indigo dress with the skirt resembling that of a butterfly wings and the fluffy top and collar kind of like a moth. The legs being indigo and periwinkle with purple heeled boots and matching gloves that reach up to near her shoulders. Her ponytail was now split into two braids and a large purple fancy hat with two feathers can be felt on her head and course a mask on her face.

Her wings feels different as well.. turning her head to see, what was once sparrow wings now turned into that of a butterfly or a moth, it was hard to see really. Nooroo mentioned having a superhero name. She sits down to think of one, it had to be good. Something memorable, something that feels right..

Butterfly and moth.. Sig some time ago mentioned an order of butterflies and moths but the name escapes her.. Taking a moment to find the notebook dedicated to his bug ramblings which the platinum blonde took a moment to look for, she searched to see if she still had that information written down.

Aha! There it is! She smiles with satisfaction. Lepidoptera.

She will be called Lepidoptera henceforth.

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cosmic-cd · 8 months

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rotating hazel and leon in my mind again....... but also thinking about hop!!!! (i'm playing SV with him in mind as the protagonist- so some spoilery-ish thoughts on the DLC will be below the cut! i am NOT finished with the DLC, so please, no Indigo Disk spoilers!)

so i'm rotating how i want Hazel's Paldea run to pan out

the focus really ends up being on Hop, because he's the protagonist, but i'm still trying to settle on how much attention i want to put on hazel (and leon) too

i think the way i'm gonna bridge it though is in a few ways-

i already decided i want to come up with a reason to give Miraidon to Hazel, and blend scarlet and violet into a single story for convenience reasons- while i COULD just choose the version i canonically played, i think it makes more sense here to play with the time travel aspect and combine both into one narrative (i.e. both box legendaries, both professors, etc.)

additionally, Sonia is gonna be present (and honestly, i should write her in more so she's not just a background character) and Hop is also still assisting her while she investigates the Terastal phenomenon here in Paldea- which gives Hazel and Leon an excuse to be around as they also help and look into things too

It's a little easier to include them in the main story because Hazel's going to be tackling the gym challenge for the badges (and Leon's also challenging the gyms because he's super interested in getting to battle La Primera herself) while the two of them are assisting teaching at the school (Hazel's working under Hassel as an assistant, and Leon's doing a few different classes but it's primarily Battle Theory with Dendra) they're still chaperoning for Hop, and also suddenly chaperoning for these weird kids Hop keeps befriending, too

(Nemona really wants to battle Leon, Leon's older brother instincts kick in with Arven, Hazel really understands Penny's anxiety, etc)

but the DLC on the other hand...... difficult. i haven't gotten far enough in the Indigo Disk yet to know what the hell is going on with Briar, but i'm thinkiiiing Hazel and Leon would probably be a little put off by her, and the academy, and would probably be doing their own digging while Hop's off learning.. (i imagine blueberry academy itself probably isn't nefarious by any means but i don't know that yet LOL;;;)

that said, on Hop's end, i'm loving imagining him as the protagonist because it??? honestly really works??? going to an academy to work on his education towards eventually becoming a pokemon professor (i'd imagine he'd be on a more accelerated/specialized track)

but uh. also. also the DLC. good lord. with poor Hop in mind, Kieran takes on a wholly different vibe..... imagine going through a difficult arc in your life, being able to get through it with support, and then going on a grand adventure only to meet someone who might as well be you if you took losing a LITTLE too hard....

Hop's still figuring himself out. He's young, he knows what he wants to be but not exactly what he wants to do, and now it's tough because he went through something so similar to Kieran, but between Ogerpon, Carmine and everything else, I can get the sense it'd be tough for him, especially since this is a new friend and he's. kind of on the other side of things now, where he's been considerably lucky, not unlike how Gloria was

but uh!!!!! i need to think about it some more, honestly! i always phrase these rambles as if i'm actively planning on writing it out as a fanfic but it's more me sorting it out in my head LOL;;; i write a little, it's unlikely that i'll end up releasing something (though not impossible, but usually if i write stuff i'll send it to friends and that's about it)

i gotta finish the DLC though, i want to get to what i have heard is a Very Silly epilogue

EDIT: OH YEAH ALSO HAZEL IS PSYCHED TO BE BACK IN UNOVA AGAIN. briefly disappointed they're not on mainland but it's fine because she can now order pizza anytime she wants and she SORELY missed castelia style deep dish pizza.

also if i can help it i still gotta figure out how to throw camila in for either a cameo or joining for the last part of the DLC............

#cosmo rambles

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jabean-fanfiction · 1 year

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Just because I felt like sharing a snippet from the upcoming chapter of my fic, Don’t wake me just yet…

Hermione winced as she gingerly sat down in her chair at the dining table in her childhood home.

“Where are your parents, Miss Granger?” Professor Snape asked as he joined her into the dining room. He set a travelling case of potion vials down on the table and frowned at her.

“At work, sir.” Hermione swallowed her disappointment that they hadn’t bothered to take more than a day off from their dental practise after picking her up at King’s Cross station earlier in the week.

“Surely they wouldn’t have left their only child alone following her foolhardy escapades in the Department of Mysteries.” Snape narrowed his eyes as he spoke. “Of course, that is assuming they are aware of your foolishness in the first place.”

Hermione dropped her gaze and shook her head. “They don’t know about any of it. Not even the Chamber of Secrets.”

“And your injuries?” Snape asked as he began to hand Hermione the first of a dozen or so potions that she was forced to take following Dolohov’s sinister curse.

Hermione grimaced after she swallowed the contents in the first vial. “I told them I got injured during quidditch celebrations,” she said as she handed back the empty vial. “They think I fell from Harry’s broom.”

Professor Snape’s right eyebrow arched high in disbelief.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny and obvious judgement of her fibbing abilities. Or lack thereof.

“I trust they… care for you, regardless of their… complete ignorance,” Snape drolled.

“Yes, of course,” Hermione found herself insisting. She took the second and third vials from Snape and swallowed the contents of each in rapid succession without argument. “They’re just… they’ve built their dental practise from the ground up, sir. It’s everything to them.”

“I see.” Snape frowned.

He didn’t speak again until Hermione finished drinking down the rest of her potions, and he’d begun to restock the small tray that Hermione had brought home from Hogwarts.

“Given my rumoured allegiances, it is unwise for Dumbledore to have me personally visit your home to deliver these potions,” Snape quietly warned her as he carefully organised the potions in the tray. “I highly suggest that you bring your concerns regarding your parents' safety to certain… half-breeds who were present during the First Wizarding War. After all, they are some of the remaining few who are truly aware of how… monstrous… things can become.”

…

#I’ve finally gotten over 1000 words written for this chapter after 6 months of nothing #not beta'd #or edited just yet #fic: don’t wake me just yet #jabean’s stories #hermione granger #Sirimione fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

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leogichidaa · 11 months

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Psychoanalysis Sunday: Letters Home

Non-magical AU where Regulus is put in therapy with a psychoanalyst

Part 1 | Previous | Next

Regulus,

I assume that you have not perished while away at school. Even under the present administration, I would like to think that your father and I would be informed if such an incident had occurred. Nevertheless, it has been nearly a month since we have heard from you and I can think of no other reason why this might be the case.

If I do not hear from you soon, I will be forced to imagine the worst.

With affection,

Walburga Black

Dearest Mother,

I hope that my letter finds you and father in good health. I apologize for not writing sooner. I have been immensely busy with my studies. Of course, I am not nearly as behind as some of the students here. There is one unfortunate child in my year who appears to have received absolutely no instruction whatsoever before enrolling at Hogwarts. His parents work in a factory and his clothes all smell of soot.

I am quite glad of the head start from the tutoring you and father provided for us, but I nevertheless find myself quite busy. My professors know that I need a bit of a challenge and are happy to provide it for me.

I am greatly enjoying my time at Hogwarts, although I do miss home. I look forward to seeing you and the rest of the family when I return for winter break.

Your loving son,

Regulus Black

P.S. Evan would like me to ask if you could have Kreacher send us some jam tarts please.

Regulus,

Professor Slughorn has informed me that you have taken an interest in football. I do hope that that is not what has been pre-occupying your time, such that you cannot even write home to your family. Minding your studies is one thing, but frittering your time away engaged in foolish sport is quite another.

I suppose I can see if Kreacher has the time to spare. Does your friend not have his own family to provide him with sweets? I hope you have been making connections with other well-bred students as well. You should be branching out and making your mark at Hogwarts. Do not disappoint me.

Sincerely,

Walburga Black

Dear Mother,

Evan and I are most grateful for the care package Kreacher sent. I made sure to share a few with my new friends before Evan could devour them all. He certainly does have family of his own and they do provide him with sweets and food all the time, and he is always trying to break into the kitchens here as well. It is a wonder he is not ten times the size he is with how much he eats.

I can assure you that my interest in football is not taking away from my studies, nor will I allow it to interfere with my communication with my family. It does, however, provide me with a unique opportunity to make connections with other students here. I have become rather friendly with Oscar Fawley, who is on the varsity team. Hope Selwyn and Mitzy Travers are planning to try out for the girls' team next year and we practice together when we have time. Evan joins as well sometimes, but he is not a very good sport, and I think he upsets the girls.

I do hope that Slughorn has given you an otherwise good report on my progress at school. I would never wish to disappoint you.

With love,

Regulus Black

Regulus,

It is good to hear that you are building connections through athletic activity. I have tried to explain to your mother that it is important for young men to engage in team sports, but you know how she can be. She worries about you.

It is charitable of you to help your female classmates practice, but if you are planning to try out next year, I advise that you find yourself a proper challenge. Perhaps you can persuade the young Mr. Fawley to give you some pointers.

Signed: Orion

"See, I told you it won't do you any good to keep prancing about with the girls. Your father knows what he's talking about," Evan says.

Regulus turns and shoots him an annoyed look. "Will you stop reading over my shoulder?"

Evan shrugs. "No."

Regulus rolls his eyes. "Well, maybe if you could go for more than ten minutes without getting bored and chucking the ball at my head, I could practice with you instead."

"That is helping you practice! You ought to be thanking me instead of moaning with the girls about it."

Regulus sighs and pulls out a piece of stationary, twisting the tip of his pen in his fingers. Evan comes up behind him and yanks the pen out of his hands.

"Here," he says, "let me draft your response to your father."

Regulus raises his eyebrows. "Pardon?"

Evan grins. "No, listen. Your father will love it. Guaranteed."

Regulus does not for a second believe Evan's guarantee, but he does believe that whatever Evan thinks Regulus ought to say in his letter home will be amusing, so he lets Evan do it anyway. Evan reads the letter out loud to Regulus when he is finished and it is, predictably, the most absurd and inappropriate letter imaginable. Both boys are in a fit of giggles by the end of it and Regulus completely forgets to write an actual response to his father.

#psychoanalysis Sunday #regulus black #walburga black #orion black #house of black #evan rosier

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plantdad-dante · 1 year

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Book #113 - Spellhacker by M. K. England

(oh why did you need to disappoint me. why are you bad.)

I wrote out a rant about this one. Not gonna post it, because it's mainly just about how the main character is an awful person engaging in zero self-reflection and like... hey, I got that fit into a single sentence. What a marvel the English language can be.

I don't want to rant again. I'm tired.

Instead, this is going to be about all the things I liked about this book, because there were... some. Mostly small ones, but that's okay, too. Overall, just keep in mind that this book is told in first person present by a very annoying, self-absorbed character who exhibits serious trauma and mental health problems that are never acknowledged as such and in the end just get "resolved" when Miss Protagonist vows to "try".

Anyway.

When I picked this book up, I expected from the blurb that it was going to mainly be about crime and heists, and while it had that, I was surprised to also find a plot all around corporate-caused, man-made environmental disaster. It might be quite a simplified and slightly childish take on it, but the problems caused by the antagonists here do map quite well onto real-world problems caused, for instance, by fracking. And I liked watching a diverse group of friends take on a company in this way and winning. It felt good.

The magic system is a nice and interesting take that maps very well onto the sci-fi setting. I especially like the ways the magic integrates with technology, for example with the concept of "techwitches". Technifying magic would be very in character for humanity, I think.

I liked the friends, as incoherent as their characterization could sometimes be. Have I learned much about Ania or Jaesin or Remi? No. Do I still like the idea of them? Yes, yes I do. Remi especially just seems like a very chill, yet headstrong person that would have made a great main character. And yet...

It makes me sad that they ended up with Dizzy (main girl). Their relationship is going to descend into toxicity within a month and Remi doesn't deserve that. The healthy decision would have been to encourage Diz to go to therapy and then keep their distance while she gets better on her own for a while. And then a few years down the line, they could have met up again and checked if the spark was still there. But the way it went... yeah, no, this will end a trash fire.

I loved the professor and his husband, though. How do I still get emotional reading words like "his husband"? Old married people who are still so tender and loving with each other... they have been married for forever and you can just see that every day of that forever was spent thoroughly besotted with each other... It just melts my heart.

That's it. Hated the rest. Bye.

#spellhacker #m.k. england #dante's discard pile

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libbystcwart · 2 years

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MERRY CHRISTMAS...

the holidays linger like bad perfume / you can run, but only so far / i escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave / but if it's okay with you, it's okay with me

I wasn't sure if I should get you a present but since you came all the way to Merrock, I thought I should at least give you something. Coming up with a gift was even harder, but I decided to give you the letters I wrote to you that you never got, either because I was too afraid to send them or because they came back in the mail. And I wasn't sure how to get this to you since I don't know where you live, but a friend of mine in town said they could get in touch with you, so I hope that it made its way to you.

@lincolnandrewscott

WRITTEN A FEW MONTHS AFTER SHE LEFT.

Dear Lincoln,

My Ma came out to Boston to attempt at helping me deal with everything. She is having me see the school counselor at MassArt. Mrs. Browne suggested that if I didn’t want to ‘formally journal’ that writing letters to people I have strong feelings to share with would also help me. You were always the easiest to talk to about anything, so here we are.

Being a child of Southern Georgia is really not working out for me here in Boston and I’ve only been here like five months. It’s so BUSY here, so LOUD, you know? The food’s weird, too, but if I said that out loud around people here I really would never make friends. Thomasville was so chill, and I could go to our secret hiding place whenever I wanted. I miss it. I miss a lot about home. But there was a reason I left. I'll save my reasoning for another time, though.

I miss you. I want you to know that. Not a single day goes by where I don't think of you. The other day I was going through a box - because I haven’t fully unpacked yet, I’m moving as slow as humanly possible so that maybe this mistake will erase itself or something - and I found that jewelry box you made me in wood shop. It was just a stupid jewelry box, but I cried for almost two hours.

I don’t know how to DO this, Linc. I’m so far away from what’s familiar to me. I don’t have you to talk to anymore. I know I'm the one that left, but if there's one thing I tell you in this letter that's close to a reason, it's that I felt like I had to get the hell out of Thomasville otherwise I would be suffocating myself in a town I couldn't handle anymore. I have to live with this weight of losing the babies we had and dealing with the grief. I can’t talk to my parents. I don’t WANT to talk to my parents. I feel hollowed out. I feel like I can’t even fucking feel ANYTHING. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I feel like a whole part of me is missing. I’m twenty three years old and I feel like an alien in my own skin. My body doesn’t even feel like a body anymore. It’s just this SHELL of something that used to have a heart and soul in it and now there’s just... There’s NOTHING, Linc. There’s nothing.

What am I supposed to do with nothing?

From, Libby.

WRITTEN A YEAR AFTER SHE LEFT.

Oh God, if you could see me now. What I’ve become. I wish I could say that it’d make you proud, but I know it wouldn’t. Disappointment would be an understatement, I think. I can almost hear your voice in my head, saying my name in that stern, serious tone. Libby, stop that, you know better.

I live in Boston now, did I tell you that already? I can't remember. I don't really talk to a lot of people, the girls I'm rooming with probably think I'm a lone-wolf. I don't really allow for myself to get close to many people these days. After everything that happened leading me to New England, I kind of just decided sullen was the way to go when I first enrolled at MassArt. I have three, maybe four friends that I've made any kind of regularity in talking to. I kind of kept people at arm’s distance - friends, family, professors who wanted to check on me, whatever. I’m still working on that, and it’s been a couple months that I’ve been in the city now. Moving into this place, going to school, it was kind of a real new leaf for me? I know I shouldn't have left like that. But being here has really helped my process of dealing with everything that happened to me. To us. Maybe it’s because I’m finally away from the town we called home for so long. Maybe it’s because of the people I’ve met here and how different they are. I don't know.

Tonight, I sobbed for the first time about everything to someone. It was a stranger at a bar. A box of emotions I usually keep tightly duct taped sealed got ripped open and dumped on someone's shoulder at 1:30 in the morning, which was not the best first impression. It was because a song that I used to sing with you came on and I couldn't hold it in any longer. Cliche as it really fucking is, I don’t usually let people in these days. Not since I moved here. Not since everything that happened. But it felt really good in the moment? It felt like a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding this whole time finally got to be let out. And I know that’s a normal feeling, I know people are supposed to talk about the things that are effecting them emotionally, that it helps. I’m just so used to having to rely on myself, and keep things to myself - whether it's because of shame or guilt or because it’s buried behind a focus on something else. So it’s easier not to talk about it. It’s easier to just be this one way and have that be it.

Our kids, I want to know what they would've turned out like. What their personalities would've been, how their sibling relationship would've been, what their voices would sound like. God, can you believe we never got that chance? Honestly, more than anything, I want to stop thinking about it all.

At this point I’m not sure what I’m saying. It’s nearing four in the morning, and I’ve done a lot of crying and a lot of reflecting tonight, and everything about me is so passed exhausted, it’s not even funny. I guess ultimately what my point is is that I want to update you on my life. I'm not the same person you fell in love with, I'm becoming someone else and I'm not sure if I like it or not.

What are you supposed to do when your life feels like this? When you feel both emotionally and physically sick all the time? When you don’t have anyone on your side to understand you or to help you?

Mrs. Browne told me there’s books for grieving mothers. Like a damn book is going to take away this damn hole in my chest, this chokehold around my throat, this churning in my stomach. I wish I had listened to you, Linc. I think that’s what I realize now. I’m not sure, but I think whatever we could’ve done together would’ve been better than this, would’ve felt better than this. And you’d be with me. And I know “could’ve beens” are useless. There’s only what is and what isn’t. No amount of wishing or imagining the one thing that could change everything will actually give me what could’ve been. Because it’s not real, never was, and never will be. It’s just a romanticized idea of a perfect world where everything was where it should've been.

I don’t ever really expect you to read this. If I were you, I don’t think I would. I know you most likely hate me and I know that nothing I say over a snail-mail letter is going to do much to change that. Not after everything that I did. Even if you don’t, that’s okay. Just writing this stuff down is helping. I just want you to know that you deserve so fucking much, and I hope that you know that.

Love, Libby.

ANOTHER LETTER WRITTEN A FEW YEARS AFTER SHE LEFT.

I wrote you this letter before, but I threw it away. I mean, like, I really threw it away. I wrote it, ripped it into pieces, and threw it away in a McDonald’s trashcan. As if throwing away ripped up pieces of a letter in a trashcan in the fast food place still had some weird chance of getting back to you. Because I really panicked, okay? Because that letter said some shit that once it’s out there, it’s out there. There’s no taking back words and feelings like that. If I’m honest there’s no real point to this, I’ve just had a lot going on up in my head lately.

I'm not sure why I'm not calling you or flying back to Thomasville to tell you this in person, but something in me can't seem to do it. We had a good run, didn’t we? To tell you the truth, I’m not sure anymore. When it comes to you, I’m not sure of anything anymore. Before I left, I could feel you slipping away, and maybe that was all in my head. But I started letting go first. Which is wild to me since I know I don’t move on or let go easily. Trust me, I know. It’s excessive how long I hold onto a friendship that isn’t working or an object that I don't have any use for anymore. But you were anything but small.

Even when we were little kids, I loved you. Yes, even then. It was stupid and crazy and fast, but the conversations flowed easily and I never wanted to stop hearing your voice. Each thing you said, each part of you that opened up, I treasured. I didn’t know what I meant to you back then, but I knew you were meant to be in my life.

Do you remember when I was first pregnant? God, I was a few months along then and so, so damn emotional. We skipped school and slept in, you woke me up with blueberry pancakes and I cried. I cried over blueberry pancakes. And then threw up about forty seconds later. Pregnancy, right? You got rid of the pancakes and cleaned me up and let me cry on you for twenty minutes before I finally got it out of my system. And I remember specifically, that you said, “I hate this shirt, anyways.” I went from crying to laughing so fast, I didn’t even know what hit me. But that was the kind of thing you were good at. You could always make me smile. Even when someone had ruined my mood after lunch. Even when I’d done poorly on a test and was belittling myself for it. Even when I was freaking out and having a fit over what I looked like and how I wasn’t pretty enough to date you (which let's for a second acknowledge the stupidity of THAT). You were always the sun for me, you brightened up everything, Linc.

I want to thank you. For being the best partner, for being the best father, for being the best friend you could've been.

You’ll always be my first real love, the one that pulled me kicking and screaming through my angsty high school years and the first person that I planned a life with. I made a hell of a lot of mistakes from beginning to end and that’s stuff I’ll have to carry with me forever. Mistakes help teach you lessons, though, and I’ve learned plenty of them. Because of the lessons learned, I’m ten times happier than I’ve ever been in my life. I moved to a little town called Merrock, got a job working as an antique picker at the coolest little thrift store I’ve ever seen, I have the best friends I’ve probably ever had, and I’ve got some amazing pets to keep my company.

After all these years, I think I’ve finally come to terms with things. No, not everything. But THINGS. I’ve come to terms with the fact that my life as it stands - struggling with trying to find a career in interior design but unable to give it up because of my passion, living so far away from Georgia, talking to the people of Merrock on a regular basis, wishing that things would get better but knowing that they just won’t - is just the way that things are going to go from here on out. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I have to remain a certain level of numb, a certain level of guarded, because of that. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I loved you and I broke your heart, but I also broke my own heart, too. I’ve come to terms with the fact that there’s probably no way of fixing that, I’ve just got to live with it.

But most of all, I’ve come to terms with the fact that the choices I made at the age of twenty three after all of our losses, those were the right choices. I don’t have to be happy with them. I don’t have to enjoy them. I don’t have to feel relieved or proud of them. I’m allowed to hurt, I’m allowed to feel what I feel, think what I think, wonder what I wonder. Staying in Thomasville - in that little house with you with all the memories - wouldn't have been right. No matter how much that may have hurt the both of us. In fact, I think that’s part of why it hurts.

It sounds like I'm doing okay without you, but I think the truth is that I kind of am. I truly hope that you’re happy. I hope to God or whoever’s out there that you didn’t spend two years at the bottom of any bottle you could find like I did. I hope that every door you used to dream about opens up to you. And I hope that you find someone who has the same dreams that you do, and that they treat you a million times better than I ever did.

I’m not gonna write you anymore. Because I think I’ve also come to terms with the fact that whether these letters to you are really to you or not, they’re not helping. They’re hurting more than they’re helping. And I’ve done enough things to hurt myself without intention, I should probably stop doing it intentionally, too.

I hope you're living an amazing life, Linc. I mean it.

I didn’t expect the last words I had for you to be so freeing.

Always yours, Libby.

LETTERS THAT WERE WRITTEN BUT WERE NEVER SENT. (in no particular order)

I've tried calling and texting a couple times, but I don't know if I had the right number. I know I didn’t leave things on the greatest of terms, but it was an emotional time and people do stupid things they don’t mean when they get like that, right? I know, in reality, it was my fault that we don't talk and you've become a ghost that's in my past, and I feel guilty about that. I should've tried to make things work, to be the wife you needed. You were grieving, too, and needed me just as much as I needed you.

I've been thinking about the reasons why I left you. And I think it's a lot because I just couldn't be in Thomasville any longer but I truly think it's because I realized that I've never felt more comfortable around anyone than when I’m with you, or I guess when I was with you. Is that weird? That’s probably weird. Ignore that. I don’t know. I just didn’t feel the need to hide anything when we were together and it’s weird because I was so used to faking a smile, but around you I could've been crying or something and you wouldn’t have judged me or forced me to talk about what’s wrong. I didn’t need to hide anything. I could've told you things that I couldn't tell anyone else and that genuinely scared me. I think it scared me just because I’ve never felt so vulnerable. But I think it was a good vulnerability, though? I was so used to keeping all of my secrets under lock and key, and I was sure if I didn’t have you in my life I would've probably just combust from all the secrecy and thoughts running throughout my brain. But all of those emotions you managed to make me feel, I think those were the reasons why I left you. I think if I told you everything I was feeling, it would've been too much for you to handle. This all makes it sound like I was trying to put the weight of my world on your shoulders now, and I do think that was what I was trying to do. And I didn't want to do that to you. I know we said for better or for worse, but my worse was something you didn't need. I just… I just thought that this would be a good opportunity to tell you how much I'm sorry for how everything went down. I'm so, so sorry that I wasn't who you needed me to be, and I hope I can tell you this someday. I’m sorry I haven’t reached out to you myself. Words will never be enough to explain how much I miss you. It doesn’t come often these days, but when it does, it overwhelms me. It’s like visiting the sea and the times I do visit, the waves are rather strong. And it amplifies the space you left in my heart. I miss you and I miss hearing your voice.

Ah, there it is, the familiar ache in my heart.

I miss you. Maybe I believe in a world that will let us meet again through an instance that we both never expected. Maybe, all throughout these years, the world has been planning for a funny reunion. I’d like that, something mundane yet funny. I can picture many scenarios of how it would unfold, but there’s one thing that is present in all of them, it would be our laughter followed by a tight hug. Maybe. One day. Someday. For the meantime, I send my well wishes through the stars. I hope the world has been giving you the happiness that you deserve.

Love, Libby.

•

How are you?

It's been months since I last wrote to you. Maybe because I have been pondering about the path I want to take. The kind of person I want to be. Or maybe I have been trying my best to run away from vulnerability lately. And I know how the thought of writing to you makes me soft, and open, and emotional of some sort. But here I am, being a little more brave by each passing day.

The sky is clear tonight, unlike the clouded heart that has been accompanying me the past days. My days have been weary and dreary with the constant knocks of loneliness on my door. But it’s okay, I’m okay. I am slowly relearning how to take baby steps again, and reacquainting myself with the feeling of losing my sight, forcing me to feel myself out of the darkness. I’m alright. I’ll do better.

How about you? Is the world treating you well? Did you see your favorite sunrise or maybe had your favorite cup of coffee? You know, I always wonder about you and how this world works, or would work, for us to look at the same sunrise as we both untangle ourselves from a good night’s sleep. I don’t have the exact answer for that nor a vague idea on how everything would unfold, but know that I’m here. Waiting. Making repairs in my humble home. I think I’ve let myself realize what I want. And it’s you. It’s been you for as long as I can remember. And I consider that I would like it quite a bit if you came back into my life, the idea I have of you being back in my life being real rather than a fever dream fueled by my mind. I just wish to the stars that by the time our paths cross again, I have enough warmth to welcome you into my arms. I know you’re still worth it, that we’re still worth it, I will hold on. I hope you still have love for me. Maybe. For the meantime, I’ll continue to look at the night sky and wonder how your night is unfolding.

Sincerely, Libby.

•

Linc, I really think I’ve let you go. I know it took me long enough. But all the love in my stupid little heart isn’t for you anymore. Some of it still is, of course. A part of me will always love a part of you, or what I wanted you to be, or all of you. I like it that way. I loved you so strongly, and I don’t want to lose that love I am capable of. We’ll always be something, you and me. I’m not clamoring for a definition anymore. I do miss you, and I do love you.

A few nights ago, I had one of the best nights of my life. It was silly. Time spent with new friends, reuniting with old ones. A night full of laughter and happy tears and smiling at old pictures, rolling on the floor of my living room shaking with laughter because I was so full of joy I couldn’t hold it in.

And I didn’t want to share it with you. Don’t get me wrong, I want you to feel that much joy always. I want you happy, or at least working towards it. I’m just thinking of all the times I felt something so strongly, and yet all I could think of was how much I wanted to share it with you.

I texted you in tears immediately after one of my biggest disappointments because you could make me smile through that just by being you.

I was crushed under the weight of too much anxiety and your kindness lifted me out.

I was flush with the joy of a new role and your pride made me stronger.

I graduated from high school and one of the congratulatory hugs was from you, one of the best hugs you've ever given me.

I was full of loss and regret and your strength inspired me to keep going.

I don’t think I was ever able to put into words what you meant to me while I was with you. Maybe one day you’ll go through your pictures and smile at the memories, like I am now. Maybe you’ve forgotten and they’re just mine to carry. That’s okay. I’ll keep them safe for both of us.

I didn’t realize until today, I still haven’t told you about that joy I felt that night. I didn’t think I could be happy without you. These days, I can think of you without it hurting. A part of me still wants you. But I don’t need you. And that’s for the best.

And I really do hope you’re happy now. All your demons at bay, your bright future in sight. Everything I wanted for you and everything you deserved with you or in arms reach. You are so unique, more than you maybe even realize. You are so funny and you make so many people smile on a daily basis. You are so, so loved by those around you. You are a well of incredible, endless creativity and enthusiasm. I adored your enthusiasm, and I think you really do deserve the entire world. You are a true star that shines, even in a sea of darkness. Your friendship, your love did mean everything to me, it’s so hard to find someone who just knew you so purely and so beautifully. You have so much value, not only in your talents and your brilliant mind, but also in your heart. Every day should really be filled with recognition of just how amazing you are.

I am healing. I hope you are too.

Yours truly, Libby.

#lincoln.#gifts given • 'cause we're good friends.#half of these might not make sense since i wrote bits and pieces during nights i couldn't sleep but!#i thought something like this would be a good gift from libby to linc #death tw #death mention tw #child death tw #depression tw #miscarriage tw #grief tw #mental health tw #pregnancy tw #anxiety tw

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badarthistorian-blog · 5 months

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4/14/24

I'm back.

Well, I guess I shouldn't say I'm back - really, what I mean is that I went back to my alma mater yesterday (undergrad, not grad), sat in the crowd while current seniors presented their final BA thesis papers, reminisced about how much I miss the art world, and left the presentation feeling like I just had to do something to scratch that "why did I ever leave art behind, I need to get back to it right now!" itch.

What hasn't happened in the eight years since I was last here? The 2016 version of me who wrote the few posts that follow did have it rough, yes (it's hard not to look back at those entries and remember how lonely that time of my life was) - but little did she know that she only had a few years left of calling herself an arts professional. Years that I don't think I would redo necessarily, but I might have sunk my teeth in a little more if I could predict the detour my career path would take.

I only lasted in NYC for another month after my last post. I experienced some of the best times of my life in the four months I was there, but damn was it lonely. I was lucky enough to have a very good friend who lived in the city just a train ride away and who was there for almost every one of those best experiences, but my job sucked; my living space sucked; my boss sucked. If even one of those things was better it might have made all the difference, but it wasn't meant to be.

I packed my two suitcases and moved to New England on December 23, 2016. If it wasn't for the friends I'd made in grad school (and, let's be honest, my boyfriend at the time), I'd have no doubt ended up back at home in the Midwest. But I also had an opportunity I couldn't pass up - managing a photography gallery, essentially my dream job.

In the three years I was at the gallery, I saw, matted, framed, shipped, and catalogued some of the best works the history of photo has to offer. I worked a week-long photo show back in NYC and, again, experienced some of the most standout moments of my life (clearly NYC has that power over me; as my uncle would say, "that city has jazz in the air").

I stayed at the gallery for almost three years before one owner retired and the other decided to shift to an at-home gallery - aka, I was out of a job.

And that's how I landed in fundraising. A series of subsequent steps led me back to the Midwest and into a more suitable fundraising position for my personality (research-based, behind-the-scenes, and a bit more covert than asking for gifts). The boyfriend I had in New England is now my sweet husband. We travel, see family often, and are very happy.

But.

Yesterday, I caught up with one of my old professors. My history of photo professor, to be exact. He remembered what I'd shared with him during my last update - from 2017, when I was just learning the ropes of photo gallery management. When he asked what I was doing now, I told him and tried not to sound too bashful about no longer being in the art world. His response was, "That's great, but you were so close - you had your foot in the door." Polite, but disappointed. A not-so-subtle way of reminding me that I was there! I was doing it! I was a successful art (photo) historian!

But then... I left it behind. And I left it behind for all the reasons I started Bad Art Historian in the first place.

I found that the people who worked in the art world full-time weren't much better than the students who went through my grad program with me. Often, they were standoffish. I fairly consistently felt like I wasn't in on the joke, or that I wasn't doing art "right" because I wasn't high brow enough. I was intimidated by the people I indirectly worked with, and as someone who very much thrives on connecting with others, this left me feeling rejected.

That's not to say I didn't try. When my boss told me the photo gallery would be closing, I applied for plenty of art jobs. Assistant curatorships, gallery sitters, program coordinators. None of them worked out. Fundraising fell in my lap, and I wasn't in a position to deny it.

Honestly, It felt like a good change - welcome, in fact, especially when I very quickly realized that the people on my team were my kind of people. Friendly, outgoing, social, and supportive.

Which makes my photo professor's comment all the more rattly, because I had to remind myself that I left for a reason. I still hope that life will lead me back to the arts - but I don't think I betrayed myself by leaving in the first place. Accepting - and being okay with - that choice is difficult, but a worthy endeavor nonetheless.

Anyway. I'm back - maybe? We'll see how long this renewed energy lasts. But in this moment, I'm glad to be here.

#bah #bad art historian #arthistory #career choices #career path #monologue

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that-fema-corps-blog · 1 year

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Day 18

August 21, 2022

Woke up at 8:00 and got breakfast before the first part of our two-day race/diversity training at 10:30. (Disclaimer: I am white and also didn't type anything here during the breaks, so I definitely missed some stuff, especially since I'm going off of hours-old memory.) Engage to Change (etc...) gave the presentation. The two speakers were a black man and a white woman, and each speaker shared several personal stories to drive home the main points.

One of the first sections was on the difference between non-racist (passive, supports status quo which is often racist) and anti-racist (active efforts against racism). We had a small group discussion on times we were non-racist rather than anti-racist (ex. not calling out a friend or coworker for saying something racist). The speakers shared the following Martin Luther King Jr. quote from the Birmingham Jail:

...I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to "order" than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice...

We discussed how a significant part of interpersonal and institutional racism resulted from white people being non-racist (more like the "negative peace" MLK describes) rather than anti-racist ("positive peace"). So, in actuality, non-racism is passive racism. We also discussed how many white people's avoidance of discomfort often leads to the reluctance to discuss/confront racism in favor of claiming "colorblindness" and/or trying to keep the order/negative peace... "We're great allies so we support your message, but I don't like your methods, so please stop trying to change anything because it's mildly inconveniencing me and I don't want to have to think about it :)"

We then learned about the Thomas Meyer experiment, where legal firms were sent an application from a person named "Thomas Meyer" to analyze and rate. The applications had several mistakes but were all identical, with the exception that some of the applications said Meyer's race was white, and others said his race was black. When Meyer was believed to be black, those rating the papers gave him a lower score and identified more mistakes than when Meyer was believed to be white. This demonstrated how racial biases are often present in institutions even when not obvious.

Then we read and critiqued a public apology letter by a University of Oregon law professor who wore blackface to a Halloween party. She largely avoided taking responsibility, as seen here:

During a Halloween party I hosted at my house, I wore a costume inspired by a book I highly admire, Dr. Damon Tweedy’s memoir, “Black Man in a White Coat.” I intended to provoke a thoughtful discussion on racism in our society, in our educational institutions and in our professions. As part of my costume, I applied black makeup to my face and wore a white coat and stethoscope. In retrospect, my decision to wear black make up was wrong. It provoked a discussion of racism, but not as I intended. I am sorry for the resultant hurt and anger inspired by this event. It is cruelly ironic that this regrettable episode began with my admiration for a book that explores important aspects of race relations in our society, but ended up creating toxic feelings within our community. I intended to create a conversation about inequity, racism and our white blindness to them. Regrettably, I became an example of it. This has been a remarkable learning experience for me. I hope that all who are hurt or angered by my costume will accept my apology. I meant no harm to them or others.

This professor was given a year of paid leave before returning to teach an introductory class about race that students were required to take. We discussed how the refusal to reprimand the professor would likely contribute to more institutionalized racism in the area: students of color would be less likely to feel comfortable applying/attending. This would result in disproportionately fewer students of color and recent graduates in the area, eventually leading to white people being over-represented in the legal field.

The final section for today's diversity training was on invisibilized and uncompensated labor, including emotional labor, code switching, and (historical) chattel slave labor. We had a short group discussion about other types of invisible labor and were let out for the day.

We had a couple hours off before a team meeting at 18:00. We discussed which of the two projects we each wanted to take, which interstate we would take, and which landmarks we wanted to visit along the way. Then I made myself dinner, played a couple games with a teammate, and watched a movie with the group.

#fema corps #corps training institute #onboarding #racism mention

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