#pedagogical approaches

[entaberp]

What is Experiential Learning and Why Is it Important for Teachers

Experiential learning helps students gain knowledge by doing activities and hands-on experiences. It also encourages students to think critically and become more creative and self-reliant. Furthermore, it helps develop skills such as problem-solving, interpersonal communication, and teamwork. This type of learning also helps to develop a deeper understanding of the subject matter that can't be acquired through traditional teaching methods. Experiential learning also encourages students to take ownership and responsibility for their learning.

It also motivates students to become more engaged and motivated in their learning. This type of learning also creates a meaningful learning experience that can be applied in the real world. This type of learning also encourages collaboration and critical thinking, as students must work together to solve complex challenges. Additionally, it allows students to develop their problem-solving skills and foster creativity. It also provides an opportunity for students to build confidence and learn to take ownership of their learning.

To Read More About Experiential Learning Click Here

[mariocki]

"From a very early age the child becomes part of a pattern he never fully understands and is powerless to change. It is a pattern that is made up of rituals - of form periods, morning assemblies, lessons that follow each other in quick succession for no apparent reason, bells rung by other people that govern his changes of activity, milk, school dinners, homework. His life is part of a scheme that has been devised by people he does not know, and into which he is expected to fit without question.

And it is here that we come to the real content of our educational structure. At school, the child is taught by experience that it is normal for other people to organize his life. He will be told in Civics or History that he lives in a democracy, which means that people govern themselves. But he will know as an experienced fact that he must expect to be governed by other people who know better than he does."

- Albert Hunt, The Tyranny of Subjects, in Education for Democracy (2nd ed., 1972)

[aeide-thea]

sometimes i see people proposing educational approaches that may well be appropriate for most students but would have been/were absolute hell for me personally and i'm just like. genuinely unsure whether that constitutes a meaningful flaw in the approach or whether it's just like, welp, it would work for most kids, sucks to be you

[apathyisboring]

i hate my practical learning analytics professor 😭😭 that mf should NAWT be a teacher 💀

[prokopetz]

A thing that bothers me about wizard schools in popular media – outside of the magic-grade-school stuff, anyway – is that they're typically depicted as being basically magic universities, but their actual curricula and pedagogical approaches look much more like those of a technical institution. Like, buddy, that's not a wizard university, that's a wizard trade school. You can't just slap university student culture on top of trade school pedagogy. It doesn't work like that – the one emerges from the other!

[rishiguro]

JJK CHARACTERS AND THE TYPE OF CHILD CARE WORKER THEY WOULD BE

a/n: i saw one post about job aus and here i am now. toji is ooc but i don’t really care, that’s what aus are for

ITADORI YUUJI: the kids‘ favorite

the kids love him. he‘s always down to play with them, immediately immersing himself in the child’s world, no questions asked. his inner child comes out, happily going along with whatever the kids have planned. sometimes you‘re not sure if he has any kind of pedagogical intentions or if he simply loves to let out his inner child. however, whatever it was, it seemed to work.

FUSHIGURO TOJI: the questionable coworker

to be honest, no one really knows why he’s in this field of work. he certainly doesn’t seem like the type to work with kids and sometimes you don’t know if he likes his job in the first place. he’s brash and rough around the edges, definitely believing in ‘tough love’ and ‘fuck around and find out’. but sometimes, albeit very rarely, you can see the proud shimmer in his eyes when he watches a child attempt something for the n-th time — and finally succeeding on their own.

NANAMI KENTO: the firm, but warm one

he’s the professional one. there’s not one second in the day where he doesn’t take any aspect of his job seriously — from the obviously made up stories the kids tell, over parent meeting to the annoying but necessary clean-up after the kids ate. but that’s exactly what makes him so good at his job. he’s very knowledgeable about many aspects of a child’s development and always reflects upon his actions dutifully. everything to give children the best environment to thrive in.

YUUTA OKKOTSU: the carebear

he’s the one that’s always there when a child gets hurt. with his comforting and calm aura he always manages to help the kid calm down fast, offering them kind words of affirmation and a warm hug. sometimes they stay on his lap, not wanting to let go of him, still shaken by the situation. and he stays with them for as long as they need, offering his hand once they feel brave enough to go back to playing. no matter what, the kids know they can always count on yuuta, just like you.

GOJO SATORU: the gossip queen

sometimes you don’t know if he’s an adult or one of the children you‘re looking after. somehow he’s always up to date on the latest kids‘ gossip and drama — who played with who, x held hands with y even though they said they were a thing with z, and so on — and he was thriving on it, hitting you with the “you’ll never guess what i was just told!” practically daily. and while you were shaking your head whenever he approached you like this, you had to force yourself to stop smiling as he recounted the stories.

reblogs are appreciated

[grendelsmilf]

look, my english and art classes did expand my mind and change the way i think and introduce me to some of my favorite works of literature and incite a passion that i have continued to pursue all my life (although in fairness a lot of that was also self-motivated), but there’s also a smugness to the idea that if you were personally fulfilled by those classes then the others who weren’t simply were not “good students.” when that is obviously not the case and even if so, so what. like I’m someone who has always been at the top of my class in every academic subject and always been a self-motivated learner who loves knowledge and expanding my mind and most teachers I’ve had have simply adored me. but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna act like anyone who didn’t experience school that way is somehow lesser than me, especially because some of the evilest people I’ve ever known have been teachers I’ve had, and that’s just how it is sometimes. and even like one million gorgeous soul-expanding pedagogical approaches (to english class or otherwise) will not change the fact that these teachers are nonetheless operating within an explicitly harmful system. so as much as i love many of my high school teachers and in fact still stay in touch with them to this day, im not gonna pretend that this is in any way a universal standard and that anyone who feels left out simply failed to achieve that.

[many-shades-of-violence]

en español por favor

warnings:  nsfw, teacher-student relationship, power play, size kink, doffy

requested by: @dressroba

pairing: Teacher! Donquixote Doflamingo x f! Reader

word count: 5k

a/n: Thanks for the request, love. Always happy to write for you. Hope you enjoy! <3

Despite what many adults liked to say, life as a student wasn't always easy. Especially in the case of poor you, this fact couldn't be truer at the time being. With the approaching campus festival, which you eagerly participated in organizing with a few other student faculty members, you already had enough on your plate, but unfortunately as with every semester, the final exams came closer by the second, just a second still looming far away in the shadow, but now closer than ever. Sadly, for you, this also meant that you once again had to face your absolute nemesis: Spanish.

While you actually were not a bad student per se, always very eager and fast at learning, since the change of your Spanish teacher at the start of last winter semester, it seemed incredibly difficult for you, to score any points in the subject your beloved old teacher, Mr. Corazon had tried teaching you so wholeheartedly. And that was all because of the fact hat he had broke a leg on ski vacation, needing a replacement for the rest of the quartal, bringing you into your current situation.

Gone were the pleasant hours full of fun educational and pedagogic worthwhile sessions that slowly but steadily brought you to the goal of speaking Spanish. Instead, you had to endure several times a week classes, which you had to almost force yourself into, since no other than possible Satan himself, had started teaching your class: Doflamingo Donquixote. Or how the class -besides that jokster Luffy, calling him Mingo- addressed him, Mr. Donquixote.

In fact, the tall man was not a bad teacher at all, quite the contrary as he was introduced to you by your director Mr. Sengoku, as one of the best educators from the country of Dressrosa. Still, you had great problems following his lessons, not because you couldn´t understand them, but for the simple fact that you were incredibly swooned by him, always needing you´re full concentration to not form any improper thoughts while in class. The fact that he always looked at you expectantly with his idiotic sunglasses, a smile on his lips, broadening his already handsome features even more, as soon as your gazes met, didn't make any of this better. And so, over the last weeks, your notes had slipped into the basement, always more concentrated on containing the wetness between your legs, than to be able to follow every word of Spanish that fell from his plump lips.

Now, most would certainly think that you still had your written achievements, but the thing was, that no matter how much you studied and no matter how well the material sat in your head, not a single word found its way out of your head onto the paper in front of your nose, to squeamish from the way he watched the class, pouncing like a predator on students like Usopp or Bartolomeaus when they tried to get a good look on their neighbors test.

And that was the situation you also found yourself in right now.

Sweat beaded along your forehead, the hot midday sun shining right through the large class window, shining into the room you were currently residing in, trying you´re best to remember what you had learned over the last few days. Nervously, you clicked on a mechanical pencil from time to time, biting your lip, when the letters just blurred in front of you.

Just as you were hopefully about to write a sentence on the page in front of you, a well to known deep baritone voice rang out, snapping you out of your thoughts, making you sit up straight as a candle in your chair. "Time is up. Please put down your pens and hand me your paper one by one on your way out." With one last panicked glance at the almost completely blank test sheet in front of you, swallowed nervously, tears nearly pricking your eyes from the once again shameful situation you found yourself in, while looking at the clock hanging atop the green chalkboard, the clock hands mockingly showing you the time: 16:00.

Just as you were about to turn your gaze back to your sheet a last pitiful time, your e/c eyes met no others, than those of your teacher, Mr. Donquixote. Well, if they weren´t hidden under his glasses that is. An icy chill ran down your spine as he gave you a horrifying smile, a small wince piping up in your lungs.

Before you knew it, your pen fell out of your hand onto the floor. Irritated, you looked down at the floor, dumbfounded that you had let your grip gone loose. Just as you were about to reach for the scuffed thing, your hand collided with that of someone else. "Ah, sorry y/n-ya. Here's your pencil." Your gaze met a pair of cool and calculated gray eyes. "Ah, thank you Law!" you uttered a bit embarrassed, carefully scratching at your cheek as you took the pen from your counterpart's strong hand.

"No worries." He flashed you a small smile, while he organized the perfectly filled out sheets in front of him. "So how was the test for you?" Interested, his gaze shifted back over to you, a quick flick to your blank paper already giving him enough of an answer, mentally face palming himself a bit for the question. "Well..." you gulped, the droning shuffling of chairs resounding in the background. "Let's talk about yours instead!” you chuckle emberassed, turning your sheet around. The fact that Law, top student of the class, had already seen it, was worse enough.

“Seems like you did great! But that´s expected of you I guess" you laughed.

"I wouldn't call it super, but it was okay. In the end it doesn´t really matter anyway. Doesn´t bring me far as a doctor.", he shrugged, suddenly stiffening a bit as he realized how insensitive his comment was. "Ah, sorry y/n-ya. Listen, if it helps you, we can always study Spanish together?" Just as Law was posing his question, a hoping look on his face, he was interrupted by the voice of Mr. Donquixote. "Trafalgar, l/n. Your tests. Now"

Startled, your eyes widen, your gaze quickly darting forward, only to look up at your blonde teacher's giving you a serious glance. Law only groaned in annoyance and stepped forward quickly, taking your test with him in a quick motion. Defiantly, he thrusts the assembled papers, into your tall teachers stretched out hand, a sardonic grin on his lips, when the blonde grips them.

"Here you go. I'm really looking forward to your correction.” “Don´t get so cocky Trafalgar.” The older man replies with a smirk on his face, as Law turned on the tip of his boots, walking back to his seat beside you to retrieve his bag. It did not escape your notice how your teacher's brow furrow, when he skimmed through the papers with his long thing fingers, a grim look on his face when he looked at, what you supposedly thought, was your test.  

However, you didn´t have much more time to ogle his reaction, because of Law asking you a question. "So what do you say, y/n-ya? We could study at my place this weekend? You could also help me with History. I heard you´re really acing Mr. Crocodiles lessons." A smile spread across your own lips, grateful for the help he offered. "Thanks Law, you're a lifesaver! I would really like -"

"y/n? Do you have a minute? We need to discuss something." This time it was you who was cut off from your teacher’s voice. You stopped mid-sentence, an icy chill running down your spine when you heard him say your name. Panicked, you looked at Law, who only clenched his teeth disapprovingly, clicking his tongue in annoyance. "Well, I guess, we can talk more about this later." You nodded nervously at him, before he gave you an encouraging smile. "See you later then, y/n-ya. Don´t let him get to you too much. Spanish isn´t even your major.” A sigh left your soft lips as you turned to your teacher, dismissing Law with a weak hand wave. As much as Law was right with his assumptions most of the time, you weren't too sure if he was right this time. 

"So y/n. Can you explain to me what, this is?" With a definite grip, the tall blonde Infront of you held your test in his tanned hand, the blank pages staring mockingly back at you. "My test, sir?" you stammered out, hands clamming anxiously when you realize how cocky that sounded. "I'm aware of that, smartass." he looked back at you fiercely, his sunglasses glaring at you admonishingly. "It´s blank. You didn´t even write your name on it."

A strained vein formed on his forehead as he pointed his index finger at the empty space, where you should have written your name. "Well…” uncertainly dodge his searching gaze. He sighs, shaking his head disapprovingly. “This won´t do.” You gulp, unsure what to expect. “According to the notes I received, you weren't this bad last semester…." “I guess, you´re right about that, sir…” you reply awkwardly.

„Then tell me. Why is it, that your grades drop all of a sudden, as soon as I start teaching you?” You stifle a gasp, sweat appearing on your neck, from his taunting tone. If you didn´t know it better, you could swear he was seeing right through you. And somehow, that turned you stupidly on.

“Are you having problems outside of your studies? You surely would confide in one of your many teachers, right?" He muses, the worried tone in his voice making butterflies bubble up in your belly. Your quick to negate him, raising your hand defensively. "No, no it's not like that!" "Then tell me.” He looks firmly at you. “Obviously you didn´t fall on your head, when I hear from teachers like Mr. Crocodile, how engaged you are in his lessons.”

Again, you dodged his searching gaze, not missing how annoyance spreads over his devilish handsome features. “Or are you that focused on enjoying Trafalgar swooning over you like a lovesick puppy in my class?!” With a venomous tone he snarls at you, the crude smile on his face spreading even further to show you his pearly white teeth.

Heat rushes to your checks, at his words, shocked from the revelation, dismissing his thesis with all you´ve got. "No! No! It's not like that, sir! Law and I are just friends." He starts to laugh at this, seemingly enjoying your reaction. “Fufufu, how cute.” You look at him surprised. “Cute?” you say once more, scratching your neck embarrassed.

He ignores you completely, one hand wrapping around his chin in a state of wonder. "But then, I still don't have an answer why your Spanish grades slipped so much from the moment I took over this class.” You look to the ground, the fact that he was mulling his thoughts over loudly, nearly made you wish to sink into the ground at this moment. For a brief second, he stops. Just when you try to look up, wondering what made him stop, you meet his gaze once again, everything nearly falling out of your face when you see the amused grin, he gives you. Your stomach drops when the next few words spill from his lips.  

"Do I make you that nervous, birdie?"

For a brief second, time seemed to stand still. Transfixed, you looked at your teacher with your mouth open, unable to comprehend what he had just said. "Excuse me?!" “I think you heard just right. You know, it annoys me greatly that a clever little head like you, is not able to unfold its full potential under my wings, because you´re so busy ogling me at every free second you get.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, trying to find any counter argument, to his, but failing horribly due to your throat suddenly being all dry. You startle when he starts to laugh once again. “Fufufu, so I am right.” Your eyes widen in horror, when a gentle yet firm reprimanding hand settles under your chin, making you see straight at him. “How dumb of me to worry about you´re wellbeing. You´re just a naughty little bird.”

You gulp, not able to form any cohesive words, the way heat pools around your legs while Doflamingo has his hands around your chin, nearly making you faint. “If that´s the case, how would it be, if we make a deal?” “A-A deal?!” you wince quietly, not ready for what´s to come next.

“I'm making you an offer. You know, being the gracious teacher I am, I'd hate to see one of my beloved students fail their exams. So, I´m going to tutor you, until your grades get better. Under one condition that is. After all, nothing in life is free~” He looks at you wickedly, a predatory spreading over his features.

“And that would be?” you ask quivering, already having a faint idea what he would say. “For every time I tutor you, you´ll give yourself to me. Since you clearly have something going on for me, you can even see it as a win-win, for you.”

For a second, you look speechless at him, to shocked by his proposal. Then, not a few moments later you nod, a shy “Deal.” leaving your lips, not thinking once about the dangerous implications, this whole deal held for you, as well for him, you´re reasonable voice being gone too long for his overall looming presence.

He clapped his hands enthusiastically. "Fufufu, a smart decision. I expected nothing less of you, my dear.” He slowly moves closer towards you, his other hand finding it´s way to your side.

"What do we do, if someone finds out?!" you stammered, trying with all your might to suppress the heat in your cheeks. "Oh, don´t worry you´re pretty little head about that. I´m the one who´ll be in devils’ kitchen anyway if that would happen, so just let this be my worry.” With dilated pupils you looked at him, caught like a deer in the light of a headlight, your heartbeat pulsing so loudly you thought he could hear it too. "In the meantime, see it as our little secret.” You shudder when he lowers himself near your ear.

"Though, with the way you look at me in class, like a love-drunk schoolgirl, you really need to learn to contain yourself a bit more. I´m still wondering how Trafalgar even thinks he got a chance with you, when you so clearly want me.” Too embarrassed to answer, you look on the ground, the constant pulsing between your legs making it incredibly difficult for you to think properly.

You avoid his gaze for a moment, but when he calls your name just a few seconds after, you can´t do anything else but look up at him, entranced by how close he is to you, realizing the sweet smell of his perfume in your nose.

The moment you set sight on his pink lips it´s over for you, the last bit of fight your morale self could muster, crumbling underneath you. For a second, the entire room is silent. Only the soft inhale and exhale of your breath can be heard. Then you do what you've only dreamed of doing until now.

You overcome the last centimeters and reach for his lips with your own. The blond man waits not a second longer to greedily devour your lips, strong hands gripping tightly at your side, searching along the hem of your top for a way to reach the skin beneath.

You gasp out, a low moan falling from your lips as you let yourself fall into the hot kiss. Doflamingo doesn't miss this chance and slips his tongue into your mouth. A small cry escapes you when you feel a cold metal bar touch your sensitive muscle. A tongue piercing?!, you gasp exited, trying to find contact with the cold metal again, earning a warning groan from your smug exploration.

With not much room for discussion about who was the one to be dominated in this, you quickly let the tall man take his lead again, the whole situation reeking even more of a disgustingly sick and twisted power play dynamic than ever before. You moaned into the kiss hungrily, the heat in your core throbbing lewdly at the way your tongues danced with each other, the tension that had built up in you since you first saw him, finally being able to unload itself. You quivered when your teachers’ hands found themselves around your butt, thing long fingers moving precisely to grope your ass.

You only break the kiss of to get some fresh air in your lungs, shuddering when you her Doflamingo groan lewdly into your ear. “God, I´ve waited so fucking long to get a chance for this. You can´t imagine how much I want to fuck you right now.” Though actually, you could imagine it quite well, due to the way his cock pressed obscenely against you, the bulge in his black dress pants not letting room for much imagination. He grins at you, relishing in the way you look down, your mouth forming a surprised “O”. “Anticipating much?”, the blonde chuckles. You can only nod, before he hoists you up and sets you one of the many tables in the classroom, hands roaming greedily over your body, leaving no spot untouched.

You can only moan at the many sensations you feel. Only having a few sexual interactions, the determined and experienced way of Doflamingo handling you nearly made you dizzy. Your teacher seems to notice this, because in-between your exchange of sloppy kisses, he suddenly pauses gazing at you calculating. “With the smitten way you look at me in class I can´t imagine it, but you´re not a virgin, are you?” You shake your head, hands roaming along his chest. “Only been quite some time.”

You´re quite surprised when he starts to pepper your neck with kisses, feeling him grin wickedly when he finds a spot that you´re especially sensitive at, his longue pierced tongue dragging over it torturingly slow. “A pretty thing like you? Really? Man, those college kids today really don´t know shit.”, you moan loudly, when he bites into you, sucking on you as if to prove a point.

“You´ve made a good choice saying yes to this. You won´t regret it.” You smile weakly, an amused “And here I thought this was about me getting better at Spanish.”, immediately regretting what you said when he grinds his clothed dick at your groin, one hand gripping your thighs dangerously. “Oh, don´t worry birdie. After we´re done here, I´m gonna teach you so much Spanish that you can only think in that language, next time we fuck.” You shudder at his hard choice of words, once again realizing what you just led yourself into.

You´re attention gets quickly pulled back to the present though, when Doflamingo reaches inside your pants, slowly pulling them down together with your underwear. He hums appreciatively when his eyes fall onto your sex, not missing a moment to reach between your folds. “Fufufu, you dirty little thing. Already dripping for me. And just because of some kisses.” “Please don´t tease me!” you cry out, trying to suppress a shudder when he plunges one finger inside you, not waiting much to curl it inside you, while his thumb starts to rub your clit.

You moan from the way he pleasures you, his experienced method being so foreign yet rewarding, that you quickly understand, why you´re best friend always liked to tell you, that “older men are the shit!”. You´re so much in thought, that you don´t even register how Doflamingo looms over you, entering another finger into you. You spread your legs automatically, hips bucking against his fingers, to find even more stimulation, when es scissors you open with quick decisive motions.

The time Doflamingo enters a third finger into you, marks the point, where you´re body reaches it´s first breaking point, the impulses you receive making you so hazy that the cord inside your abdomen snaps, your orgasm rushing over you in a hazed state. You´re attention only gets pulled back to reality when Doflamingo pulls his fingers out of you with a deep husky groan, looking at his hand with a dirty grin. “Now look at this. The little minx squirted on me.” He locks his eyes with you, his lips curling into a deadly smile, while he holds his wet coated hand up for you to see.

You blush madly, when he starts to lick your juices of his hand, not breaking eye contact with you. “D-Don´t!” you cry out embarrassed, nearly chocking when he flashes you his pearly white teeth. “And deny me such a delicious treat? You´re so silly. But I guess that just proves my pont that you can be glad, an older guy likes me shows you how it´s really done.”

You gulp at this, watching him lick the last drops of your cum from his hand, before plunging his mouth back on yours. You grimace a bit at the taste of yourself on your lips, but quickly forget it, when you hear the noise of metal clunking to the ground. Just a few seconds later, Doflamingo breaks the kiss off, pulling his dress pants down with a quick grip, showing you his long veiny cock.

You gasp at his action, more wetness pooling between your legs, when you see his sex in all his erected glory. “That won´t fit!” you gasp, a cruel mixture of fear and excitement bubbling in your belly. “Oh, it will, don´t you worry, love.”, he muses, pushing you down on the table you were resting on. “If not, I´m gonna make it fit.” You shudder at this, eyes widening in exitement. “Now, be a good little student and spread your legs for me.” As if your body moves on it´s on, you hear on his command, heat once again building up inside you, from the way he orders you around.

 “Fufufu, didn´t expect my sweet little misfit to be so obedient. How cute. And here I thought I would have a much rougher time with educating you.” Gripping one of your thighs to hold you in place, Doflamingo hoists himself near your entrance. Just when his leaky pink tip nestles itself at your folds, his other hand wraps himself around your hip, stopping only for a moment, to look you once again dead in the eyes, his smile not once faltering from his features.

“Ready to get addicted?”

You just have enough time to nod, before he sheets himself into you, a pleased groan spilling from his lips, when your velvety insides suck him deep into you. You swear you could nearly faint, when he groans sexily into your ear, hands gripping flush around your hips to plunge himself as deep as he can into you. You gasp, at the delicious burn inside you.

“Told you it can fit. Well, we still got some ways to go, but I´m not a monster and force you to take it up the hilt at the first time.” He grins, stroking gently through your locks. A gentle yet in the end avid motion. “I don´t think this will ever fit without me tearing...” you stutter out, nails scratching into the back of his dress shirt, trying to get used to his grith. “Oh, you´ll see. You´ll be begging for more quicker than you´ll have this semesters grammar in your sweet little brain.”

“I don´t know if that´s a good thing though.”, you moan, moving your hips a little, making the man above you shudder. “Fufufu, depends on the perspective.”, he retorts, slowly starting to move inside you. Before you know it, Doflamingo had set for a rhythmic pace, fucking you into the table. A pleased moan escaped you, when the pad of his thumb finds back to your clit, drawing agonizingly slow circles, each time, sending small new shocks through your whole body.

You try to steady yourself but fail miserably because of the way he has locked you onto the table. You shimmy a bit uncomfortably, finally setting back on your forearms, but suddenly being hoisted up under your arms. “If you´re uncomfortable, just say so, stupid.” You´re once again surprised at the blonde’s forwardness, easily letting you be manhandled in the process, when he hoists his strong arms around you, pressing you against the nearest wall.

“Better?” You nod at him, thankful for his advances, wrapping your legs around him, as not to get accidentally impaled. He grins at your action, moving even closer to you, before starting once again to slide himself in and out of your dripping wet cunt. “Fuck, you´re sucking me up. You poor thing really wanted me bad, huh?” Doflamingo groans, fingers digging deeper into your plush thighs.

You nod, a low moan rippling from your lungs when he hits a sensitive spot.  “Fufufu, well good that Teacher´s here to care for his little student.” Incredibly turned on from his dirty talk, your wall contract around him, urging Doflamingo to snap his hips even more into you.

“F-Fuck, Mr. Donqu-…” “Don´t you dare call me like that, when I´m balls deep into you.” You get interrupted from his venomous voice. “When we´re like this, I´m Doffy. Got it?” You nod once again in agreement, only being able to moan as an answer from the stimulation you feel.  “Fufufu, how obedient you are. That really needs to be rewarded.” He grins, licking his thumb, before plunging it back at your red swollen clit, begging for more release.

 It doesn´t take more than a few quick swipes for you to come a second time, this time coating Doffys cock with your sweet nectar. “D-Doffy!” He groans pleased, at the feeling of your plush insides contracting and moistening around him, the way you moan his name, bringing him over the edge himself. He´s quick to pull himself out of you, setting you back down to the ground, quickly tugging his pants back on, a devilish smirk on his lips, when he sees his cum starting to leak down your naked legs.

Absoluetly fucked out and still in your post orgasm state, you stand there, trying to comprehend what just happened. The moment you meet your teachers’ eyes, you start to register what just happened.

“So, what do we do now?” you ask him, voice coarse and dry from all the moaning, slowly pulling your pants back up. “Isn´t that obvious? We still need to get that syllabus in your pretty little brain.” Dumbfounded you look at him, still way to fucked out to form a cohesive thought. “I need to get cleaned up and buy a coffee first.”

He grins devilishly at you. “En español por favor!”

“Doffy!”

This man would be your death. You were sure of it.

[girlweepinginstairwell]

I need advice which im not sure how much u can help me since I know all schools are different, but im a very broke (transfer) uni student & im thinking about becoming an English tutor since I’ve always gotten As in English. Im a bit scared because English is subjective up to a point (I know essays follow a formula and such) and I don’t want students getting a bad grade because I gave them bad advice for writing their papers :-( anyway I think im just asking for tips on how to be a potentially good tutor?

omg so honored you’re asking me this... i realize i took a while to answer so i hope i can still be of some use to you!

i personally worked at my university’s writing center, which meant there was a mandatory rhetoric/pedagogy course i had to take as i first began tutoring students—i found it to be immensely helpful and reassuring during that first semester of work. depending on your personal situation, you may not end up doing the same, but i would still highly recommend engaging with some pedagogical theory before/as you become a peer tutor... i think that it truly gives u a solid framework that is essential in this line of the work and bolsters your confidence in yourself! so um... sorry to assign u homework hehe but here are a few of the readings that helped me & defined my approach towards engaging with my students and proffering feedback on their assignments:

the banking concept of education by paulo freire from ways of reading: an anthology for writers

chapter 3: the tutoring process from the allyn and bacon guide to peer tutoring

chapter 16: writing comments on students’ papers from engaging ideas: the professor’s guide to integrating writing, critical thinking, and active learning in the classroom

learning to praise by donald a. daiker

on students’ rights to their own texts: a model of teacher response by lil brannon and c.h. knoblauch

i found that as i tried to put a lot of these ideas into practice during my sessions with students, i got a hang of the fundamentals of english tutoring fairly quickly & it turned into really exciting, rewarding work. i hope that it’s the same for you & i’m wishing u the best of luck! 💝

[gatheringbones]

[“What is the role of education, though, within ongoing settler colonial states?

The US, Canada and Australia all have sadly illuminating histories when it comes to the education system and the process of settler colonialism. In all these countries, taking children away from their families and tribes to be placed in residential schools where they would be punished for using their language or adhering to their customs was pretty common practice at the beginning of their existence as sovereign states. In those cases the role of education was to disconnect these children from place, family and community, and to eradicate their language and culture so that those could be replaced by the language and culture of the colonizers. Over the past decade, we have witnessed an increasing disclosure of the horrors perpetrated in the name of education in those schools. Just recently, in Canada, the names of 2800 Indigenous children who died in residential schools were included in a new National Residential School Student Death Register. This registry is still about 1600 names short according to the National Centre for Truth and Reconciliation, bringing that number up to 4000 dead children, out of the 150,000+ Indigenous children removed by force from their families by the state. Education can, therefore, never be neutral under ongoing settler colonial regimes, its historical role having been to replace language, culture, community and values and to invade not just the land but also the bodies, including the mind and feelings, of the Indigenous people being colonized. This is reflected not just in the violent historical legacy of residential schools but also in the curricula and pedagogical approaches adopted in schools.

Whose knowledge, whose pedagogical methodologies are used in schools where you live? Who is reflected in them?”]

alex iantaffi, from gender trauma: healing cultural, social, and historical gendered trauma, 2020

[threebooksoneplot]

Question for G :)) how was your fanauthor workshop experience? I don't know if I should apply it sounds interesting but at the same time almost no reviews or whatsoever. Thank you!

well I ended up doing it a second time, so I'd say it was pretty damn good! I think the reason there are "no reviews" is mostly due to tumblr's format not really lending itself to that? @fanauthorworkshop isn't marketing itself as a product so much as a pedagogical (educational) extension of the existing fandom gift economy—an exchange where you both learn stuff and share/teach stuff!

this answer is mildly off-podcast-topic and it's gonna get super long and wordy, so it's under a cut lol you're welcome

my Fanauthor Workshop experience

personally, I found the FAW perfect for me. I was at the point in my fic writing where I was getting some lovely comments and glowing praise, but also wishing the world in general took fanfiction more seriously, as a craft to be practiced and discussed, something with both intrinsic and literary merit. @bettsfic's first episode as a guest on Fansplaining really resonated with me and kind of spoke to that desire (it's a must-listen for anyone on the fence about applying to the FAW!!)

but I had never studied creative writing at a university level, and barely knew what a crit letter was. I found the FAW was the perfect way to learn that sort of thing in a low-stress environment! I didn't struggle with feelings of burdensome obligation the way I had with schoolwork; rather I was excited to read everyone else's writing and see what it had to teach me. I also loved having an appropriate venue to air all my writing opinions, lol. I found I was so motivated that I managed to attend every FAW session even though it conflicted with family vacations two years in a row. I wrote crit letters from the lobby of a restaurant in a national park because it was the only place with wifi. I even Zoomed into one session from a random public library in Durango, where I managed to alarm everyone else in the irl vicinity with my enthusiastic discussion of fictional cannibalism (shoutout to the story we workshopped that day, it SLAPPED.)

personally, I approached the FAW with the very specific goal of Having Fun first and letting the writing stuff come second (ie, not putting too much pressure on myself when it came to choosing and polishing my own workshop pieces, and not worrying too much about how they were received.) I still ended up getting some AMAZING critiques and responses to my two (very different) pieces—I was deeply impressed by everyone's insights, how much they were able to pick up on, and how willing they were to meet me at my level. the other pieces we workshopped ranged all over the place in technical ability, from "giohvnsksbnf this writing is so good I'm gonna fucking eat glass" to "this person is clearly just starting out as a writer, but even if their prose has some technical mistakes, their story has Good Bones and their critiques and discussion observations have been spot on."

my big secondary goal was to Make Friends and there I succeeded beyond my wildest dreams. I now have SO many cool FAW mutuals, a few of which I have hung out with IRL and the rest of which I totally WOULD hang out with IRL if given the opportunity. they're all uniquely creative and clever people who I probably wouldn't have met otherwise, so that's kind of the biggest Win for me. it's so cool knowing I have all these people I could DM out of the blue and be like "hey, would you mind looking over this short story/beta-ing this fic chapter?" and end up with some great insights. there's also an FAW Discord where anyone can kind of bring fandom- and writing-related questions to the floor, as well as share recs and self-promote projects (or in my case, recruit podcast guests who I know have been pre-screened for both their chill lack of pearl-clutching and their basic fiction-analyzing skills, lol.)

I would recommend the Fanauthor Workshop if:

you're a self-taught writer who's done most of your learning in the fanfiction space and you're curious about how writing is actually taught in academic settings

alternatively, you're a writer from an academic background who chafes at some of the more restrictive rules in traditional workshops/you're tired of the irl Guy in Your MFA -types who refuse to or can't engage with your work on its level

you're ok with doing some "homework" (writing two crit letters per week) on the honor system

you're down to read original work in a wide variety of genres/read fic from fandoms you're not in (maybe even fandoms/pairings/characters you don't personally like)

you like what you read in @oficmag

you wish fanfiction was taken more seriously as a craft

your favorite trad-published writers all seem to be workshop alumni (eg: I swear half of my favorite writers are Clarion grads)

you have work you'd like to publish and/or submit someday but you're not sure if it's ready/not sure where to start

you follow writing advice blogs or send them asks

you wish people would leave "concrit" (constructive criticism) on your fics

you wish people would leave concrit on your fics but you're worried they might be too mean or not "get" your work

you wish people would analyze your work and give critique without letting their personal value judgments get in the way (and you're ready to do the same in turn)

you worry your work is too niche, kinky, queer, romance-focused, or "weird" for a traditional workshop (note: but it doesn't have to be any of these things. people also workshopped gen and the equivalent of coffee shop AUs!)

you'd like to hear perspectives that don't come from cishet dudes

you enjoy Class Participation and discussions (or maybe you're no longer a student and miss that kind of thing!)

you think @bettsfic seems like a good teacher (spoiler: she REALLY is)

you like the idea of a creative writing class with no grades or possibility of "failure"

you'd like to meet people you probably wouldn't meet in any other setting, and make some cool friends from other fandoms

if even a couple of these bullet points sound like you, you'd probably get a lot out of the FAW!! I hope the next session of FAW-ers have a blast. I'll be lurkin the Discord rooting for y'all

[sserpente]

A/N: Request by @iggee-rose​ and @frzntrx​. Hey, it’s October. I had to give it a spooky note. It became fluffy rather than smutty aand I guess both requests come out a liiiittle differently than I intended them to but I hope it’ll still be enjoyable! Loki took the wheel with this one, haha! Plus, there’s always more Loki smut to come anyways! ;-) Also, since you asked, my favourite ice cream flavour is Stracciatella. Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 2376 Warnings: fluff, pagan!Reader

Halloween was your unlucky day. Why? Last year, your car had broken down on your way to university. The year before that, you had misread the instructions for your box dye and ended up with green hair instead of red hair. And this year… you sighed.

Well, perhaps the streak was over? Perhaps this year, you would spend a relaxing night in front of the TV watching Hocus Pocus and drinking pumpkin-spiced hot chocolate without being pissed beyond measure?

In any case, the gods truly had interesting ways to make your life more exciting. With another sigh, you parked your car and gathered your things before heading into the university. One more year and then you would finally be able to teach modules here yourself. You had been working on your class for the entire term already: Modern Myths and Legends I – The Old Norse and Germanic Gods and Sagas.

You had made yourself quite the name with your vast knowledge about the old gods—even more so since it was commonly known that you were, in fact, pagan and had been so before Thor had come thundering to Earth to join the Avengers to stop Loki from taking over the whole planet.

Your excessive research had made you fluent in Old Norse as well as able to read the old runic alphabet and you were familiar with so many different versions of the myths your university professors had started coming to you for advice. You knew almost every single book about the Myths in existence by now, including those stored all the way in the libraries in Iceland and Norway.

The seminar you’d attend today was going to give an insight into the pedagogic value of teaching university students, with different approaches to guarantee success. Unsure of how successful that was going to turn out would entirely depend on whether Halloween was once again going to be your personal April Fool’s Day.

You made it through the foyer without any trouble at least. Your steps echoed through the empty hall as you approached the seminar room—13, ironically—and stepped inside. Your jaw dropped.

“Sir, I must ask you to leave or we will call the police!” Right there, in front of your former professor and soon-colleague, stood the God of Mischief himself. Dressed casually but still incredibly elegantly in Asgardian leather, you took in his raven hair and blue eyes, along with those sharp cheekbones and the handsome face you had seen on TV so often. It had practically burned itself into your memory, even more so because the myths that involved Loki had always been your favourite, ever since you were a child.

There was a god right in front of you. You were standing before the God of Mischief. He was real, here, in the flesh. Fuck.

Loki chuckled darkly—the sound sent surprisingly pleasant shivers down your spine as you grabbed your notebook tighter. Ever since Thor had “recruited” the God of Mischief for the Avengers, no one ever knew what his intentions were when he showed up somewhere. Most people were scared of him because of what he’d done in the past, the others met him with hostility, disgust and anger. Your professor appeared to belong to the former sort. You… you weren’t so sure right now.

Loki only snorted in response, rolling his stunning blue eyes and then—his gaze met yours.

“You,” he began, tilting his head as he narrowed his eyes. Your lips parted. You? “need to come with me. Now.”

“I… what?” Blinking, you took a step back, putting your free hand up in defence. With Loki? With him? How did he even know who you were? And what… you swallowed… what did he want from you? As fear, panic and utter fascination mixed together in your gut, you took a deep breath in order to compose yourself. With sweaty hands, you took another step back.

“Don’t panic, mortal,” Loki said, rolling his eyes. Ha. That was easy for him to say but fuck, did he look good! Up close, you were able to admire each and every single one of his features. Now that was a man one could fall in love with… even more so because you’d always had a soft spot for him. It was indeed different, however, to stand right before him, in the flesh, knowing that the threat he posed at all times was very, very real.

“M-me? What do you want from me?” You finally chirped.

Loki took a deep breath. Annoyance was radiating from him as if he’d rather be anywhere else than here. “My oaf of a brother sent me to retrieve you on his behalf. Let us say, the Avengers,” he paused, forcing himself to change his wording, “we… are facing a problem that will require… research. Research, so Stark has found, you have been doing for the last couple of years.”

“O-oh… is this about the myths? What happened?”

The professor just watched the exchange in the background quietly, too stunned to speak.

“Thor’s gloves have gone missing.”

“Thor’s gloves? But… if they’re secure on Asgard, how would they ever…”

“Ah, well you see, that is just the thing,” Loki interrupted you crudely. “They have been missing for centuries now. And with what is coming…” He didn’t elaborate and you were not quite sure whether you wanted him to. “…we will need all of the strength we can get—and that includes all of Thor’s beloved artefacts that Odin gifted to him once,” he finished bitterly. Understandably so—Loki had never gotten such cool gifts.

“And you think… I can help?”

“I believe you are very well aware of just how different the mortal myths are from our actual history. Perhaps even more so than your human mind could ever grasp but Stark is right, you might just have clues as to where the gloves disappeared to when they were stolen all those decades ago. Will you come with me now or will you be making this difficult for yourself? I was told to get you to Stark Tower by all means necessary.” His gaze narrowed. “All means necessary.”

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head. “N-no. I’ll come with you. I think I can help. Besides…” Granted, this last thing you said was a pure provocation. Some twisted part of you already liked the brooding God of Mischief. “…I’ve always wanted to meet the Avengers.”

Loki rolled his eyes yet again. With but a final nod to your professor and a gesture that signalised to him you would call him as soon as you were back home and safe, you took the arm Loki offered you and disappeared in a green mist of shimmering light.

So much for a peaceful Halloween.

-

Stark Tower was truly impressive even though every single question that left your lips remained unanswered by the very annoyed God of Mischief—in fact, he kept painstakingly ignoring you until you reached the top floor.

Your heart was still pounding so hard you feared he might have been able to hear it.

“Loki! You’re back! Oh, and you must be…” You smiled at Thor when you told him your name. The Thor. Shoot me!

“He did behave, right?”

The way Loki let out a breath it almost felt like it took him all of his willpower to not attack Thor with his bare hands. You suppressed a chuckle.

“He’s… a little intimidating,” you said, shooting him a glance. Loki narrowed his blue eyes at you.

“Good,” he responded a little too satisfied.

Gosh, you couldn’t believe it. You were standing before two actual Norse gods! Two subjects of this one topic you had dedicated your life to. It was amazing, unbelievable, incredible! You bit your lower lip to keep yourself from grinning like a maniac.

“S-so…” you began, “what can I help you with exactly? Loki mentioned your gloves went missing.”

“Ever since my father’s death and the destruction of Asgard… we have no records left. Nothing that could help us find anything. You’re… known to have acquired knowledge all across Midgard. Stark said he found out about you on the Intranet.”

“Internet,” Loki corrected him. “The Internet, Thor.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” The God of Thunder grinned.

“Well… I can certainly skim through any hints that might lead to your gloves. But… the records we need and that might give us some first clues, um… they’re in Iceland. In a museum.”

“How did you ever get to read them in the first place then?” Loki asked. You shrugged, the realisation of you speaking to two of the most famous gods of the Norse Myths finally kicking in.

“I was allowed to study them under supervision a few years back. They give you gloves and everything to preserve the books.”

“Then we shall take you to Iceland!”

You blinked. “W-what, when, now?”

“Yes! Stormbreaker can take us there and we’ll be back before dawn.”

“Easy, Point Break. We need you here, remember?”

Your jaw dropped. Tony Stark. The Tony Stark. You were indeed dreaming. This was without a doubt the most chaotic Halloween you had ever experienced.

“Ah, yes… allow my brother to escort you then.”

“You want to send Reindeer Games to Iceland… with an innocent young woman. Alone? Are you crazy?”

“Loki will take care. Won’t you, brother?”

The glare he received in response sent a shiver down your spine—whether from fear or pleasure, you were unsure.

“I, um… need to pack some things at least. And… I need some of my notes,” you said.

“Sounds like a plan. Loki can teleport you both directly to your place, and then to Iceland. No need for a plane ticket.”

“Actually… I’d like to go by foot, please.”

Loki frowned. “To Iceland?”

“No! To my place. I need a moment to, um… stomach all of this.”

“Understandable. But don’t take too long. The clock is ticking.”

You nodded. “I’ll be quick.”

And so, about five minutes later, you found yourself back outside. Loki trailed after you reluctantly through the streets of New York, directly past Central Park. You didn’t live too far from here. It would be fine. And you had not been lying. You indeed needed a moment to understand that you had just been recruited for a mission by the freaking Avengers. You of all people!

“Pumpkin spice ice cream, anyone?”

The ice cream vendor in the park instantly shut his mouth when he discovered who he had just offered ice cream. Loki’s dark glare didn’t make it any better. You, on the other hand, weren’t too appalled by the idea of some icy sugar to try and calm down from whatever the hell was going on. You were about to go to Iceland. With Loki. The Loki. The God of Mischief. To get Thor’s freaking gloves back.

“I could do with some ice cream,” you announced, shrugging. “I’ll be right back.”

Before Loki could even open his mouth to protest, you marched towards the ice cream vendor and gave him an honest smile—if anything to make sure he didn’t lose it completely over seeing Loki out in public.

“Pumpkin spice ice cream? That’s a thing?”

“I made it a thing this September, my dear.” He grinned. His bald forehead was covered in sweat. He’d leaned his thick hands against the counter.

“Two, please. It’s Halloween after all and…” You took a deep breath. “I’ve had a very strange day.”

“I can imagine with um… him.”

“Yeah. Thank you.” Swiftly, you handed him the money and returned to Loki with two scoops of pumpkin spice ice cream in cones in both your hands.

The utter and genuine look of surprise on his beautiful face when you offered him one made you chuckle. “It won’t bite, I promise. Pumpkin spice is a typical autumn-flavour here on Earth—Midgard. You’ll love it.” And it was a peace offering. You desperately wanted to be on Loki’s good side, wanted him to smile at you, for some reason. To genuinely… you swallowed. To genuinely enjoy your company. To like you as much as you liked him.

“So…” he suddenly said. “How come a mere human dedicates their entire life studying realms they will never have access to?”

“The stories are entertaining too, and teach you lessons. I guess…” You bit your lower lip. Was it wise to tell him of all people? But then again… you had nothing to lose. “I guess I’ve always felt a connection with those myths, and with the gods.”

Loki hummed. “I presume you have your favourite,” he remarked bitterly.

“Yeah… Y-you,” you admitted, blushing furiously in the process. Loki stopped dead in his tracks, frowning at you as you licked your ice cream. His was already melting a little.

“I mean… I know the real deal is… different from what I read about but… I don’t know… your stories always resonated. You have a way to get yourself into trouble but a solution to every problem. When you fall, you get back up, every single time, and yet… you have always been considered an outsider. I found myself identifying with that, especially as a child.”

Wow. You sounded like you were falling in love with him. And… what if you actually were? What if the cherry on top of this crazy Halloween, your heart would manage to lose itself to a Norse God? It felt like all of those puzzle pieces finally fell into place. Was that crazy? Probably. But it was way too early to talk about love. It was a crush, maybe. Especially when Loki tilted his head and finally licked his ice cream. You blinked when you watched his tongue dart out to taste it. His silver tongue.

His lips parted and then, a sly smile tugged at the corners of them.

“Well, lucky for you, it seems like we will be spending a lot of time together in the next couple of days.” You smiled, your cheeks heating up even more. You would have given anything to read his thoughts right now.

“Yeah,” you replied, knowing that the teasing that would follow this confession of yours would quite positively never stop. “Lucky me.”

[transmutationisms]

what wwas your philosophy path like? in terms of which authors/disciplines you studied first etc etc, excluding whatever highschool philosophy stuff u were mandated to learn lol

i'm not anchored in a philosophy department/program & never have been. my ba was in a quasi-interdisciplinary liberal arts program that largely followed a 'great books' reading list in chronological order and relied on new criticism for its pedagogical approach. i liked not having to sit through lectures but hated not being allowed to place the texts in any kind of context so when i applied to grad school i went for ma-phd programs in history. because of my specific area of focus i do also have to read in/on some areas of 18th and 19th century philosophies of biology/medicine, epistemology, philosophy of mind, german romanticism, materialism-vitalism debates, &c. but these are just things that come up on their own time. besides that i was really just reading the barr/buchanon/bloom 'canon' chronologically and then bouncing off it to whatever i personally thought was interesting.

[alainlokerest]

After today´s MH episode, I've been thinking about G1 and G3 approach to the adult characters and the target demographic of the franchise. This just as a neutral comparision tho, this is not with the intention of putting G1 and G3 against each other (I already had enough of that beef).

Idk, in G1 I guess, the parents were mostly absent as a way of escapism, because MH (and most doll franchises at the time), were more tween focus, and at that age most of the media seems to be driven by the fantasy of becoming a teenager and doing ''grown ups'' stuff, even if those fictional scenarios are not realistic, like the My Scene girls traveling to Jamaica or going to night clubs, or the Bratz writing a magazine that can rivalize with Burdine´s. In the G1 MH movies, usually the ghouls had a lot of agency without adults around (except for the teachers), the only two parents I can think about are Ramses De Nile (who is a villian) and Hexiciah Steam.

Then in the G3 Monster High reboot, we get to know lots of the parents (Clawdeen's mom is literally the shows main overarching plot), and I think this is because of the later trend in mainstream media, to focus around family conflicts, like healing trauma, reach an understanding with your parents, etc. And I guess it makes sense because the G3 show has a more ''pedagogical'' focus, let´s say. G1 already had positive messages, but right now it feels the G3 writers want the kids to always get something out of the show. And also I think this happens in the first place, because in 2023 most tweenagers are playing with Roblox and most of them don´t care one bit about toys anymore.

[bestworstcase]

the annoying thing about aura (<- as a writer) is it isn’t a health meter and later volumes in particular make it explicitly clear that it doesn’t behave like a health meter, but it can be measured and represented as such with a sufficient degree of accuracy to be using live ammunition in sporting events. which suggests that concepts like ‘aura levels’ are quantifiable and tangibly real and a person could, hypothetically, measure their ‘maximum aura’ in the same way that you might, say, measure how tall you are. and per V7 the speed at which a person is able to regenerate to full is recorded and used as a metric within the huntsman system, so in-universe people do pay attention and assign value to these numbers.

but it’s all—textually, and i am inclined to think this is by design—arbitrary, in that the numbers matter in practice not at all: jaune fast-heals himself from about half to full in seconds and then nora slaps him hard on the back and he drops to half again, and jaune is notable for having an unusually large amount of aura. with how the kids get smacked around during fights—and with aura being regularly used to deflect gunfire—it follows that either ‘aura level’ is purely a measurement of concentration (and that even a ‘full’ aura therefore offers negligible protection against unexpected hits), or normal usage of aura is not as a large, gradually depleted reservoir but more like a rapidly-falling charge that needs to be continually pumped. or both, which i think makes the best sense of how aura and aura-breaking is used narratively but makes a mess of how the gauges are used in tournament fights and sparring sessions (wherein aura is treated more straightforwardly like hit points).

probably a lot of this muddiness comes down to a lack of confidence (or clarity) in the early seasons as to how aura works and how to convey this to the audience—this is why i tend to put more weight on what’s shown in V4 and onwards, once the clear visual signals for ‘strained aura’ and ‘broken aura’ got sorted and the narrative reliance on aura gauges mostly ended—but it’s exactly the kind of muddiness that makes the worldbuilding gremlins vibrate at distracting frequencies because it’s not quite contradictory so long as you accept the premise that while there IS something that can be numerically measured and represented like a health meter, doing so only approximates what aura is actually doing when used in this way

and that’s fun because you get differences in technique and philosophy between people who were trained within the huntsman system and people who weren’t—a sort of in-universe divide on the ‘hardness’ of aura as a system of ‘magic’ (such as it is), where some practitioners conceive of it in terms of numerical metrics and others do not and there is probably some degree of mutual incomprehensibility between the two. and in the huntsmen context obviously the numerical approach is enshrined as the ‘correct’ one and that has pedagogical implications for any students who didn’t learn it That Way

but the actual like sticking point here for me is it’s annoying that i have to think about fake health meters at all in text, a medium that notably does not lend itself to that sort of thing as well as animation, and while there’s one more chapter to go before i have to Get Into That it is Nigh, and i’m not especially pleased with how i did it in the roughs, so i’m gnawing on it like a bone now. in theory i could just yeet the health meter stuff out of the sandbox altogether but i do like having the gauge-based numerical school overlaid on top of a fundamentally non-numerical system, it’s janky in a very realistic way because oh boy do humans love to categorize and count and label things that fundamentally resist being categorized and counted and labeled. and it’s doing important character work besides. but also, cries in health meters in prose

[librarycards]

Coined by Merri Lisa Johnson, the term “cripistemologies,” refers to “embodied ways of knowing in relation, knowing-with, knowing-alongside, knowing-across-difference, and unknowing,” ways which frequently exist outside the purview of mainstream academia. Curricular cripistemologies, then, refer to an intentional, queercrip deviation from normative pedagogical approaches which trades the corrective impulse of “special ed” and other rehabilitative programs, and offers instead a generative noncompliance. That is, rather than trying to identify, isolate, and ameliorate difference, curricular cripistemologies lean into difference as it is experienced by disabled students ourselves, querying how atmospheres of in/accessibility shape normative approaches to education and how the embrace of “failure,” not as a last-resort but as a first choice, poses potentially transformative possibilities.

[sarah] Cavar, The Queer Aut of Failure: Cripistemic Openings for Postgraduate Life. [emphasis added]