#someone teach a remedial class on pacing

[leximsiel]

Audition.. audit what?

I saw one of those guys again today at another title Swing Dancing event.

Honestly, I am quite ill physically so I don't mind being put in a level where I'd be able to pace myself better. I also do not think I am (anywhere near to being) a brilliant dancer, as standards continue to grow (and deviate) with me still struggling to remember what I've forgotten. But if you're going to watch me for ~8 seconds dancing with someone who weren't really following in an audition setting (not at the event I'm currently in), then put me in the same category as people who have barely grasped the concept of stretch and compression (except for maybe 2 follows out of ~18), including more than half who rely on anticipation rather than communication and momentum, along others who utilise arm leading rather than body movements, I think it'd be a bit much for me to pay you any basic respect, especially if you've gone away to teach beyond your local scene. They were also so arrogantly certain with their decisions and offered no remedies. Thanks for a long weekend of boring classes (until the final class when I was mentally and physically exhausted).

Since Oslo a few years ago, I've avoided events that required auditions as much as I could. Desperate to re-inspire myself, this year I've gone to 4 such events among others. The first was okay and I felt most dancers were well sorted (probably because they only had 8 to 10 couples to watch at a time, even though there were about 100 people being audited).

The second was a disaster, dozens of dancers were made to dance repeatedly to songs ~200 bpm with few breaks, and I had the lucky pleasure to dance with 12 follows throughout that pretended to be following but didn't - this was only becoming a trend back in 2019, but seems it's now taken root (nearly had a follow whacking her elbow in my face yesterday, doing something completely out of the blue, I had to dodge). I was even more unwell than I am now so I didn't care where I was put, but I do distinctly remember one of the teachers saying dancers should be showing off all they have, and utilising all of the floor, not just where they started.

The third was described above, with one of teachers saying if you're being flashy, not doing the simple things, goes everywhere, that'd straight away be a downgrade for him. Strictly speaking, these two teachers at major events aren't completely contrasting each other, but are dancers expected to read minds of the teachers' preferred dance style in 'auditions' then? What sucky education system did you grow up in?

Anyhow, after this fourth one at a well reputed event, I'm now of the opinion that auditions just aren't something for me, and is potentially harmful to the Lindy community as a whole.

The level descriptor just did not fit about half of the dancers that were allocated there. Followers that expect you to arm lead them, present to you with a completely tense or self-moving right arm in open, the odd hand grabbing, moves ahead of any leading being communicated at all, leaders asking about how intermediate level stretches or directional communication is formed. 'Advanced'? Get out of here.

So I got to understand why it was eventually easy for someone to place me in the classes I got. But ha, the follow that didn't actually follow in the audition, nearly elbowed me twice in the face with random movements, grabbing my hand at least half the time, also got in. (N.B. Following isn't just about following in Lindy Hop, but I'm sure none of it includes initiation of the elbow towards the lead). So they're suddenly an Advanced dancer now, having been validated by you, who seemingly stand close to the top? Really? How is this helpful to them and others around them?

Bottom line: 'International' teachers may have great talent in their understanding and expression of the dance, and deliver classes at an exceptional level, but being able to judge other people's approximate / relative level of dancing by just visually observing them, is an entirely different talent - one which is becoming hugely apparent to me that not many possess.

[zmediaoutlet]

Hey you seem to have a similar opinion to me about Soldier Boy

Like there’s been a lot of buildup for him to be a bad guy, but until now nothing’s happened. He’s at most being a prejudiced grandpa, but is that even on him personally? A guy in the 80’s telling a woman to smile is to be expected lol

Generally he hasn’t shown much personality, right? I hope something big happens in the remaining episodes to come

(Also the parallel to Homelander and Maeve is a bit off. SB comes off more sympathetic because he apparently did love the Countess, while Homelander has never loved anything, I think)

"There's been a lot of buildup but until now nothing's happened" is basically how I would describe season 3. Which is a real drag, because we've only got 3 episodes left for any kind of happening to happen.

This season really has been an odd one. To borrow from a previous conversation I had, I feel like there's a lot of Big Setpieces happening so Kripke and the PR team can go "see? see? look, a penis blew up! ha ha we had a musical scene! did you see Jensen's butt? he has a butt!!!!" Meanwhile, the actual plot and characterization and story have only moved, like. Four inches. It's a really good echo of the in-universe Vought marketing & content machine. A lot of viral moments but very little actual superheroing going on.

Genuinely, I don't get it from a writing perspective. Or -- rather, I do, but I'm disappointed by what it means. All this pressure to make the next big wacky Boys Moment and what you end up with is teehee exploded head/teehee penis/teehee Kardashian satire, barely strung together with dialogue. Oh, and a lot of the fuck word thrown in, for good measure. It's just thin, thin, thin.

But, who knows. I tend not to think that you should judge a tv season too harshly until it's over, because until the ending you haven't actually seen the structure as a whole. It's part of how SPN's s8 ended up working so amazingly well -- 'Sacrifice' blasted meaning backward through a bunch of moments and choices and, man, chef's kiss. So, it's possible that the last episodes of Boys s3 will tie a bow on the thing. It's... possible.

As it stands, though, I'm pretty unimpressed by Kripke's creativity, haha. God, get that man some restriction and a low budget so that he might think his way to some more interesting solutions. And keep him away from a way too long musical scene that did nothing for the plot, god. (Or that Paul Reiser scene? WHY?)

Re: SB specifically -- yeah, I don't know. For all the press and buildup and the four full episodes of 'oh gosh, Soldier Boy! What a big deal!' he's had, what. Three minutes of screentime? I can't comment on the bad guy stuff or the love stuff because we still haven't actually seen him. Maybe at some point during the much-hyped setpiece fuck-episode this Friday we'll get some real characterization -- it's just as likely we'll get a lot of penis shots and then someone's asshole will explode or something so Hughie will say WHAT THE FUCK and we'll be no closer to fighting Homelander. Shrug. Hopefully they release some deleted scenes with characterization, at some point.

[twistedmusings]

How the dorm leaders react when they catch you kissing someone from their dorm [Part 2]

A/N: AND HERE IT IS! Oh my god I still can't believe I managed to get this done! I actually stayed on task! Honestly these three were probably my favourite from the original post, I've had far too much fun writing these bois.

And what can I say? Playfully flirty MC is a good MC u wu

Warnings: Heavy smooching, possessive talk, and the reader just really pushing the dorm leader's buttons~

Part 1 here!

“How dare you...?”

Vil was more than happy to be coming back to Pomefiore with all the stuff that had happened today. Classes were more annoying than usual, he had to chase Leona down to tell him to get his work done and there had been some problems in the modeling studio that caused the lights to be brighter than usual and now he had a headache that only a nap could fix.

Thing was, if he wanted to keep his schedule as tight as possible he would need to stay awake for...another 6 hours.

One good thing was waiting for him though. Rook had greeted him at the entrance and let him know that the Ramshackle prefect was in the dorm today as per his request.

Good.

This would keep him awake. He remembers promising you a lesson in proper skincare in order to remedy whatever you did once you woke up in the morning. Deep in the back of his head he remembers you telling him that you just splash cold water on your face but he preferred to think that you at least put some sort of moisturizer. Maybe.

He rushes to his room to freshen up and makes sure that he has the materials he needs. Vil had decided that his own brand of face cleansing products would be a good start for your skin. The tingles in his fingertips went ignored as he thought of you thinking about him in the morning. It wasn’t that sort of thing at all, he reminded himself. Dorm leaders were supposed to help each other out, despite how often they were at each other’s throats, and he was just fulfilling his role not just as a dorm leader but as a...friend.

Vil takes one last look at the mirror and makes his way down the row of rooms in Pomefiore to reach the Lounge, only to stop when he sees you being pulled into one of the many rooms by what was clearly a Pomefiore’s students hand.

Wait what?

It’s almost alarming how quickly he approaches the door and puts his foot in it, choosing to stay quiet as he sees that the two people in the room didn’t even bother to wonder why the door hadn’t closed all the way. The student was pressing kisses against your lips in small intervals, choosing instead to talk as you run your hands up the expensive purple robe and taking in the little designs.

“I had a new lip scrub I wanted you to try out.”

“Really? Then why aren’t we in the bathroom?"

“That’s rather forward for a dorm leader. Is everyone in Ramshackle this daring?”

Vil couldn’t even pinpoint the student’s name. That was your first offense. The only thing he remembers about him is the man’s caramel brown hair and how it contrasted beautifully against his dark skin. After that, nothing could pop into his head that would make that student even remotely interesting for you to be hanging off of him like that! Of all the people to be with, it just had to be a nameless potato, didn’t it?

The hairs at the back of his head stand up as the potato hands you what he believes to be the best lip scrub in the business, which only makes the alarms in Vil’s head go off even louder. That brand wasn’t even known for doing lip scrubs! In fact, they once put out a three in one shampoo/conditioner and the fact that the student even had that brand in the dorms and you just blatantly accepting it was your second offense.

And as much as he wanted to focus on that being the thing that truly bothered him, he felt the alarms deafening him as he saw the potato’s hands wrap around your waist as he kissed you again, your lips parting to let him inside.

He shouldn’t be looking at this, he should be leaving and just leave you to your own devices. The lesson wasn’t important, you weren’t that important to him--

Amethyst eyes widen when you tilt your head as the student starts kissing down your neck, already choosing one spot to make his own as he licks and nips at the skin while you dig your fingers into his robe.

Vil didn’t really know how to describe the sudden surge of energy that caused him to fling the door open and grab the student by the back of his robe and pull him backwards, eyes glaring at you the entire time as you whisper his name, as if suddenly remembering that you had a previous engagement before this whole ‘sticking your tongue down a Pomefiore student’s throat’’ business.

“Prefect. My room. Now.”

You put your hands up and walk out of the room without looking at him, Vil letting go of the student’s robes and walking out after you. He didn’t even need to tell him that he was in trouble, the student would realize it soon enough once Rook delivered the chores that needed to be done by tonight.

A list only that student would be getting instead of the entire dorm.

Vil closes the door of his room and turns the lock rather harshly, looking back at you sitting at the edge of his bed still staring at the window. You weren’t trying to defend yourself, you weren’t even looking at him.

“I hate to be kept waiting, Prefect. Not just that, it is extremely rude to keep someone waiting just so you can fraternize with someone in my dorm.”

No answer. He grabs his desk chair and sits down so he can face you directly.

“What made you go and pick that potato?”

“Why would that be any of your business Vil-senpai?”

It was very much his business, if you asked him. He would have been okay if it was Epel or even Rook that you had picked to make out with but he wasn’t just going to stand around and watch as one of the student’s whose name he didn’t even know threw all of his work out of the window! So he asked the question again, this time getting a chuckle as an answer which only served to upset him even more.

“Out of anyone in my dorm you could have picked, you had to go with someone who offers you such a low quality brand of lip scrub?”

“That is your problem with this? What he offered me? Me and him just started hanging out, we know nothing about each other! I just wanted to change that.”

His headache was coming back again.

Vil put hard work into everything he did. That was his work ethic and people be damned if they thought it was too much. Maybe they couldn’t handle it but they still respected it, respected his craft and the work he put into it.

So why do you, of all of his recent projects, disrespect him so blatantly?

It was clear you weren’t ready yet, Vil wasn’t done working with you yet. After doing something like this, and right inside his dorm, he knew that you had just taken all of the careful brushes and strokes he had decorated your canvas with…

And burnt it right in front of his eyes.

Which is why he didn’t necessarily feel any guilt when he grabbed your cheeks and pulled his own lipstick out of his back pocket, ignoring your protests.

“Quiet.”

He applies the shade quickly and before you have any chance to protest, pushes his lips against yours.

The kiss is anything but sweet. It’s almost punishing. Vil was reminding you that you were a work in progress. He still had so much left to teach you, so much left to work with you and if you kept rushing things you were going to make him mad. Once he was done with you, you could go about your pitiful little life and kiss whoever you wanted and he wouldn’t even bat an eyelash.

A hand grasps at his wrists as you press his palms on your cheeks, your tongue gently pressing against his lips so you could slip inside--

Nevermind. This sort of impatient kissing would also have to go.

He pulls away and pushes you onto the mattress, your eyes hazy with eagerness and confusion as Vil removes his jacket and gloves and leans down to trap you below him.

“Were you this greedy with him? Did he also get this treatment from you? No, don’t answer. I fear I’ll only get angrier if you do. Now be an obedient little potato and stay still, the first thing I’ll fix is that messy kissing of yours.”

“ :( “

Snacks runs had to be the most annoying and heart pounding of his usual daily life quests. If waking up was a struggle enough, especially when no special loot such as new anime or manga was available, it was hard to complete such basic tasks without some sort of incentive.

Although Idia guessed that not dying of starvation was enough of an incentive.

He walks down the corridor of his own dorm, humming a quiet tune to himself as he looks down at all the snacks he had acquired. Which, score! They even had a limited edition chip flavor that came with the card of one of his favourite idols! It took everything in his power to not just spend all of his money on more than one bag but he had such a good day today that he knew his gacha pull luck just had to be good.

The door to a room behind him opens, Idia quickly picking up his pace and hiding behind a corner as he looks at who it could be. He isn't against anyone in his dorm but...he didn't have the means to engage in any conversation that wasn't about his current FPS game or Gakemo so--

"Thank you for the help! I thought my phone was beyond repair!"

His hands tighten around the chips pressed tight to his chest, eyes wide in surprise as he sees you stepping out of the room.

Of all people...why were you here so late?

The student laughs as he scratches the back of his head, handing you back your phone and looking away.

“No--No problem! I...I honestly didn’t think you would come to me for help. I integrated the newest magical technology on it as well as voice activated features and a--a brand new messaging app that sends messages faster!”

Idia clicked his tongue as he heard the student speak. Look at him showing off. You didn’t know that he was taking advantage of your naive mind! You didn’t know anything about magic so, of course, all those features would sound fancy!

When it was literally taking your phone and just downloading some fancy new apps on it!

Yet there you were, marveling down at it as if you had just gotten the latest version.

Well maybe he shouldn’t complain too much, even from here he could see your smile. A part of him worried that all this luck he was suddenly getting would affect the luck he would get on his chip bag but...you were worth it.

Such a rare event shouldn’t be left unnoticed.

Maybe...maybe if he stayed here you could walk by and he could open up the ‘bumping into each other late at night’ event?

“So how can I repay you? Do you need anything done?”

Idia tunes back into the conversation as he frowns, looking back at the two of you as the student looks at every single corner of the ceiling instead of looking at you.

Payment? The guy had just downloaded a couple of apps that wasn’t good enough reason to offer some sort of payment. He frowns and taps his foot impatiently as the guy stutters out a few excuses before finally giving you an answer.

“A ki--A kiss? Would that be alright?”

The Ignihyde dorm leader almost falls down as he hears that, retreating further into his corner as he glared daggers at the guy who had just dared to ask for such a bold request.

A k--kis--kiss? A kiss...from you?

This guy was starting to piss him off! He should just be content staring at you! You were a SSR character all on your own! That guy should be happy he even got to talk to you at all and shouldn’t ask for more than he was given! He already rolled for such a life changing event why would he even want more!

His eyes soften when he sees you mull it over. It was okay, you could reject him. Such a guy wouldn’t even be worthy of a kiss from you so you so all you had to do was say no! Go on, [Y/N], just reject hi--

Idia can feel his heart breaking as his muscles stop working, dropping all of his stuff on the floor with a thud as the sound echoes. Yet it went ignored, the other two people in the hallway too busy with their own activities.

When...when had you even kissed him? Idia only remembers you putting your phone away and the moment he blinked you had already pressed your lips against that other guy--!

He should be leaving, why isn’t he moving?

The student’s hand goes to your waist as you deepen it, his face turning a deep shade of red as you pull away and tap his lips.

“Was that your first kiss?”

“...y--yes..”

You were smiling and giving him such a rare, almost ultimately rare item and Idia didn’t know how long he could stare until he combusted.

So all he could do was turn around…

And run as fast as he could.

He ignored the familiar voice calling out his name, footsteps quickly following him as he started to run out of breath.

Making a poor otaku like him run, even now you were still being so cruel to him!

Idia’s door slides open as he bursts inside, ready to bury himself in his bed and never come out again--!

Only to stop when he hears you hiss in pain.

Blue eyes turn around to see your foot jammed into his doorway, not allowing the electric door to slide closed. A part of him wants to immediately go to you and ask if you were alright but he stops himself as the image of your kiss flashes through his mind again.

“[Y/N]-shi! W--What--!”

You rub at your foot and sigh, walking in with a confused look as Idia presses his back against his bookshelf. He knew it. If a SSR character could be brought to real life, this is the sort of power they would have over him.

The kind of aura you were emitting was enough for him to want to get on his knees, but he chose to remain strong.

“I was calling out to you…didn’t you hear me?”

Idia turns his head and looks at the floor, the pain still raw and emotionally taxing than what he was used to. Disappointment was one thing but heartbreak was a complete other monster!

“Shouldn’t--Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend?”

He spits the word out, annoyed that a guy from his dorm could unlock...no...could get someone like you. You were open to every single activity Idia gave you, you gave him good feedback and didn’t get scared when you two disagreed on something. Every manga he gave you, you read and every anime he told you to watch, you would watch it.

You were receptive, you were attentive, you were what Idia wanted in a real life friend!

He hadn’t dared hope for more!

That still didn’t mean he couldn’t fantasize when he was all by himself.

“Boyfriend…?”

You tilt your head in confusion before chuckling as you realized what had happened.

“Oh so you saw that.”

Is that all you were going to say?! You had just taken his heart and crushed it into tiny little pieces and you were just going to talk about what a pervert he was being!

Someone just KO him now, like right now!

“Yes...I saw. So what? You were just ki-kissi--doing that thing from everyone to see! So you should just go back to him instead of bullying me in my own room!”

Please just leave, he wanted to cry in peace.

Yet you stubbornly remain, just like the first time he met you.

“Idia I don’t know what crazy assumptions you are making but that guy isn’t my boyfriend.”

You put up one finger.

“He fixed my phone…”

Another one follows after.

“And he asked for a kiss for payment. Simple as that. You shouldn’t act like you caught us doing something major. It was just a kis---”

Large hands land on your shoulders as Idia now stands in front of you, head hung low as he mutters something to himself.

“Just a kiss….just a kiss.”

You jump as he gets close to your face, eyes staring at you pleadingly as he cupped your face.

“JUST A KISS? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU ARE? AN EXTRA RARE CHARACTER SUCH AS YOURSELF SHOULDN’T BE GIVING OUT SUCH RARE ITEMS LIKE THAT!”

He shakes you back and forth.

“IF YOUR KISS WAS JUST NORMAL THEN EVEN I...I COULD--”

Idia’s eyes fall on your lips, the rush of adrenaline mixed in with his built up desire for you all culminating in two choices popping up in his head. And for the first time, he knew that hesitation was not an option.

So he dives in.

His lips met yours roughly, not really moving them or anything but just pressing them against you. You put your hands gently on his chest but he takes it as a protest, which only causes him to push them onto yours even more.

This was...disastrous.

He had never kissed anyone before. How in the world did he think that he would be able to kiss you? Ah, maybe this was a dream? Right! He had just dreamed all of this up and you didn’t really force your way into his room to confront him!

His hair flares up when you cup his face, pushing him away slightly and tilting him in such a way that your lips would meet in a much softer fashion. He looks down and sees you closing your eyes, following in your footsteps and melting inside your kiss.

You both pull away slowly, Idia opening his eyes and blushing when he sees you licking your lips and sending him a teasing grin.

A rare sight...made only for him.

“I feel like I just spent all my stamina on this one event...so I don’t want to go unrewarded. Can we go further? I want to go further. What option do I have to pick for you to do that again, [Y/N]?”

“Don’t touch them.”

“YOUNG MASTER! WHERE ARE YOU!”

Malleus sighs as he looks on at the Diasmonia students gathered around the outskirts of the school, smiling as he sees Sebek directing them each and every way. Sebek really didn’t give up, did he? One of his classes had been canceled and he was eager to see the gargoyles around Ramshackle in a much better light but he figured Sebek would cause up a stir when he didn’t find him in his classroom.

As much as he appreciated him, Sebek didn’t have to walk him to every single class.

He sighs and goes deeper into the woods behind Ramshackle, the small broken path there leading him down a familiar terrain.

This is where he usually walked with you, after all.

Seeing this place in bright light was so very different. Instead of it being illuminated by his lights, the sun peeked out from over the trees and provided a sunny trail instead of the usual moonlight. He took a deep breath as he breathed in the smell of flowers all around, all of them growing wildly around him and defying any human to try and tame them.

His fingers trace some of the thorns he found on some of them, the flowers attracted to his touch and moving closer to his hands as a small vine wrapped around his finger.

All with his magic’s help after all.

This was his safe space. Malleus would come here during his first and second year and lose himself in the wilderness. In here no one would fear him. Here every single thing was responsive to his touches and even dared to touch back. Some of the wild rose bushes also reminded him of him, Malleus adding a bit more thorns around the flowers as in to emulate the very home he missed.

In this lonely place, he flourished.

But it wasn’t so lonely now, was it?

His third year had brought one big surprise. A human. A child of man who did not know who he was or what he was capable of. They looked at him as if he was just any other stranger roaming around their dorm and not the next ruler of the Valley of Thorns.

And Malleus, being the very curious person he is, found himself pulled to your inattentiveness.

He had dropped many hints that he was eager to get to know you more, relishing in the fact that you two were starting to get closer. And while he had hoped to keep his identity a secret a bit longer, he found it almost unbearable for you to not know who he was.

If you were so open with who you were, then he should show you the same kind of respect.

How wonderful that you were now on a first name basis with each other.

Malleus could walk over to Ramshackle dorm now and knock on your door without hesitation, smiling as he sees your excitement at just what places you two would discover in the dead of night.

Bummer you couldn’t be with him now.

He had seen you come out of your dorm and ask Sebek if he needed any help, to which the fae replied rather rudely that no human could ever track down his young master, so he was a bit reluctant to discover any more places without you by his side.

These walks were something you two did together, after all.

So he remained at this spot, touching everything and anything that would strike his fancy while going deeper and deeper into a small clearing you two had found. A large tree decorated its middle, the leaves falling gently upon the ground as the sun shone down on the large pond that provided this part of the forest with the water it needed to balance out the sun’s gentle rays.

“Shhhh, don’t make too much noise.”

Malleus stops as he hears your voice, his head immediately turning towards the sound as he hears rustling behind him. He smiles and turns to where he thought you were coming from only to be struck by a sudden idea--and immediately hiding among the trees and bushes so you couldn’t see him.

Would you be surprised to find him here?

He hoped so. Malleus had the habit of appearing to you suddenly so this wouldn’t be breaking any traditions between you two. If he played his cards right, you might join him on a walk all the way to the edge of the island.

“Prefect do you know where you are going?”

“I do! I’ve been here so many times. Now come on!”

Another person’s voice. No...he had heard that voice before.

Malleus retreats back into his hiding spot as he sees you rush by, holding by the hand a Diasmonia student as he rushes to follow you. You smile and turn around, still holding his hand while the other looked on in amazement at where you had led him.

“Prefect...this is…”

“Like it? Me and Malleus found it a while ago. This is how we know we are close to the edge of the forest.”

The Diasmonia dorm leader smiles as he watches you show the student around, pointing out different sights and sounds as the other watched on in amazement. That student probably had never gone anywhere this secret and while Malleus was glad you were showing off the place you two shared…

There was a feeling deep inside his chest that flared up angrily as he caught the student looking at you more than his surroundings.

Green eyes watch as the student’s hand clenches and unclenches, seemingly working up the courage to do something as you continue speaking. Which was rather rude, in Malleus’s opinion. You were explaining some wonderful things about the flora here and he was just staring at you without engaging in the conversation.

And how did you two know each other? Malleus had never mentioned you in Diasmonia except to Silver and Lilia, had he known you before him?

Malleus hands grip the tree bark tighter as the student takes your hand, stopping your explanation as he gets you to focus your attention on him.

What--?

“I’ve been eager to find some time alone with you.”

The student clears his throat before pulling you by the hand gently, your surprised look turning into one of playfulness as you follow along with his movements. He leads you to the edge of the pond, spinning you around as you allow him to position you in such a way that you are now closer to him than before.

Which only makes the angry feeling in Malleus’s gut flare up even more.

“Have you now? What for?”

An answer Malleus wanted to know as well.

Blushing, the student smiles and leads you into a dance with no music which only served to make you laugh and make Malleus’s fingers dig deep into the wood of the poor tree.

In the dragon fae’s eyes, you two are dancing for hours without caring about who was around. Why had he even brought you here? This student was part of Sebek’s surveillance crew and yet here he was not doing his job. But he wasn’t the one who brought you here…

You were.

Your actions were lost on Malleus as the dance finishes up, the student dipping you low before bringing you up.

“So you brought me here to dance? Who knew Diasmonia students were so charming.”

Malleus didn’t like the way you were smiling, nor how your hands rested on the student’s shoulders. He hadn’t seen this side of you before, you were playing along with this student and his motives.

Had you always been so playful? Malleus had only seen you during the night and whenever you two spoke it was a conversation worthy of two friends sharing experiences together.

But not this...never this…

“Well, not just a dance. I’ve wanted to state my intentions outright.”

The tree starts to crack slowly as Malleus can feel more thorns growing out of the rose bushes around him.

“Ever since you arrived, you have been an enigma to me. You are always so helpful even to those who do not seek your aid. Even now, you didn’t have to help me search for our Young Master."

He wasn’t searching for anyone, he was too close to you for Malleus’s liking and he needed to learn how to respect your boundaries.

“Yet you still offered me your help...and I…I want to...”

The student was leaning closer as his hands slid down to your waist, Malleus staring as you started to tilt your head as you placed your hands on his chest while his lips were dead set on meeting yours--!

Your face is tilted up as cold lips meet yours, your mouth opening in a surprised gasp as the hold the student had on you was no longer shy and timid but angry and possessive. These lips were pulling you in closer and closer, greedily eating each and every sound you were making as the air was slowly stolen from your lungs.

A string of saliva is left hanging as you two separate, your eyes fluttering open as you think of something to say to such a ravishing kiss.

Only for them to open wide in surprise as you see who you had really kissed.

“Malleus!?”

You turn to look behind the fae’s back, the Diasmonia student looking at his Young Master in mild panic and surprise while Malleus presses you close against his chest, clearly hiding you from view.

Right before the student even had a chance to taste your lips, Malleus had rushed out of his hiding place and pulled him away by the collar of his shirt.

For a dragon to watch on as something that was his was so close to be taken away, the surprise must have gotten to him.

“Go tell Sebek to head back to Diasmonia and call off his search. I will be there by nightfall.”

The student tries to stutter out a response but Malleus glares back as he keeps you pressed firmly against him.

“Now.”

You watch the student leave in a hurry, following the broken path you had led him in with. Your eyes peek up to look at Malleus but the dorm leader waits until the sound of footsteps is long gone before tilting your face up again and leaning down to press his lips against yours in another rough and dominating kiss.

Hands push you forward as your back collides with the huge tree in the clearing, Malleus making sure that the back of your head meets the bark gently as his lips never parted from yours. You wrap your arms around him as best as you could and let out an involuntary squeak when the fae decides to pick you up so that you could pull him in even closer.

He is the one to pull away first, hands firmly on your bottom as you wrap your legs around his waist to support yourself.

“Malleus--”

The fae presses another kiss to your lips, effectively silencing you so that all your attention would be on him.

“Don’t ever bring someone else into this place, child of man. Do I make myself clear? This place is our haven and I will not have someone else come steal both it and you away from me. Well, even if you don’t understand, I’ll make sure to explain it to you thoroughly. Now...kiss me again.”

[dzamie-oc]

03 - Steampunk

I’ll admit, this is a bit reductionist for a punk story, but gimme a break, I wrote this in only a few hours :P

Length: 2200 words Rating: T (mild description of blood and death) Summary: A factory worker makes a dragon. They grow up together and eventually enact a little bit of class warfare and a little bit of revenge.

-----

Finn’s desk was half covered in a pile of assorted junk - gears, pipes,twisted bits of scrap metal, keys for long-dead springs, and so much more, almost all tarnished, covered in coal soot, or both. However, his attention was focused on the other half, a carefully cleared space with only a few mechanical pieces strewn about, all polished to perfection. Most importantly, in the middle, sat a small, mechanical device of his own creation. Its body was unfinished, exposing much of its inner workings to the naked eye - and the elements, if he let it get that far. A head like a mix of a lizard and a dog, a long, flexible neck, a body that one might mistake for a large, metallic rat’s, and a slender tail which ended in a thin, metal cone. The young teen, with a degree of care unusual to someone with such a rat’s nest of hair, delicately positioned his creation to lay on its back, curled its legs in, and gently inserted a brass key into a particular, well-shaped hole in its chest. Once, twice... three times he turned, for luck.

Through the background din of machinery, he suddenly heard the sound of footsteps and froze. Reflexively, his free hand flew to the ignored pile of scraps, then slowly dragged one over, taking just long enough for him to listen to the footsteps pass by and once more out of earshot. Finn let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, furtively glanced left and right, just in case, and removed the wound key.

Gears and wheels began to spin with a soft whirr, and a look of wonderment spread across Finn’s face as the mechanical legs twitched, then cycled in the air. Its head lifted, letting him stare into its dark eyes, no longer as lifeless as they’d always seemed to be.

“Hey, little guy,” the boy said, “welcome to the world. I’m Finn. I almost hate to dump this on you, but... look, in case I can’t, keep wound, and keep hidden. I wish I could show everyone how cool you clearly are, but-”

Suddenly, more footsteps. Footsteps he recognized, and recognized well. Finn hissed an apology to the dragon and quickly covered it with the nearby metal bowl he’d kept its parts in, then grabbed a part from the pile and set about rubbing it with a rag nearly as filthy as the part. A valve, he realized after his first pass of rubbing - after so many years, his hands knew how to move without thinking, or even realizing what was in them. The footsteps grew louder, closer, and Finn scrubbed at the metal. With a sigh, he wondered if he’d just gotten it dirtier. He went to pass it ahead into a bucket of valves, when-

“Finnegan Shine!” came the shrill voice of a woman who thought herself far more cultured than she knew she could even aspire to. “Just what are you doing with that thing?”

Finn’s “good afternoon, Ms. Springwarden” was cut off by her question, so he looked at the metal in his hand. “I’m... putting it with the other valves after cleaning it?”

Ms. Springwarden harrumphed. “Cleaning it! Just what HAS that first-shift supervisor been teaching you?” She looked at the valve - and at Finn - with a sneer. Finn always thought that, if disdain was an Olympic sport, Ms. Springwarden would have enough gold to live somewhere nice and stop tormenting him - although, he had to admit, perhaps she would still torment him for the fun of it. “Why, I can barely tell it apart from that filthy pile!”

The boy put on a puzzled expression. “Really? But I’ve been going at it with my cleanest rag for a solid minute,” he lied. Of all the people in Alma Vera, she was the last person he ever wanted to even consider the existence of his hidden project. Still, he held up three more well-used cloths, to show her that at least part of his claim had been true.

Another harrumph. “And not once did you think that, just maybe, you ought to trade them for washed cleaning equipment?”

“But Ms. Springwarden, I thought I wasn’t allowed to leave my chair during my shift?”

“Foolish child,” the woman replied, and brought her hand towards his forehead, finger primed to flick. At the last second, however, Finn saw a look of disgust, and she withdrew so as not to touch his, charitably, under-washed face. “Rise and follow me. But don’t let me catch you out of your seat without my permission!”

“Yes, Ms. Springwarden!” Finn said, and stood. The four dirty rags were exchanged for four clean ones, or at least as clean as would pass at his work. Thus equipped, Finn was returned to his seat - the bowl still overturned, to his relief.

Ms. Springwarden crossed her arms and said, “who knows how many valuable components you’ve ruined with your folly. You do remember our motto, do you not?”

Finn nodded. “Quality and quantity, Ms. Springwarden.”

The woman harrumphed yet again, and picked up two of the buckets he had sorted parts into, and dumped them into the assorted pile. “Well, let us now remedy your mistake. You will have to clean each of these now befouled pieces once again, and be quick about it!” She glared at him. “Your work ends when your pile is gone, and not a second, nor a part, sooner.”

“Yes, Ms. Springwarden.”

Finn returned to his task, and after a few seconds, he heard one last derisive snort, and then footsteps trailing away. The boy dramatically picked up his pace once she was gone, and before long, he had undone the damage to his progress she had inflicted on him. Another look left and right, and he placed his hands on the bowl, praying that the dragon truly was still there.

“Hey, it’s me,” he whispered, so the dragon wouldn’t try to hide. When he revealed the metallic creature, it had its forepaw in its chest, twisting the mechanism inside. Once finished, it looked up at him and swished its tail, accompanied by the soft, metallic whirring of gears. “That was Ms. Springwarden. They say that, somewhere out there, at least three people are unable to make that ‘hmph’ sound, because she’s using all of theirs.” The dragon leaned its head down, opened its jaws, and picked up a twisted bit of scrap metal, then shook it around a bit, which got a chuckle out of Finn. “It’s too bad you’re not as big as the dragons I’ve heard the people who live on airships have. You could just eat her, then. Although, I wouldn’t have been able to hide you while I built you.”

The clockwork creature flicked its head and sent the scrap flying through the air, to land in the discard bucket. “Fast learner,” Finn remarked. “So, you need a name. I think... Eve.” He paused. “It’s not weird to name you after an elementary school crush, is it?”

Eve responded by tossing another bit of scrap into the bucket, then wiping her mouth on his hand.

-----

Finn prowled through the dense pipework of the underground, eyes peeled for the rats he was supposed to exterminate. In one hand, he held a bag full of rodent corpses - his proof for payment. The other hand gripped what might charitably be called a tiny harpoon launcher. It looked similar to a certain toy gun, popular among the children of wealthy families, and that was no accident - although he would have the kid he stole it from think otherwise. With a bit of tinkering, a wire to save on ammunition, and a much better spring, Finn considered himself the second best at this sort of job, something that led people to avoid asking too much about the improvised tool.

A squeak cut short, then rapid metal-on-metal clanking heralded the arrival of the first best at this sort of job. Eve trotted up to him, two dead rats in her mechanical jaws. Over the past five years or so, Finn had found or fashioned bigger replacement parts for his dragon until she stood nearly at his waist. Long since unable to hide her under a bowl, of course, the story now was that she was a defective mechanical dog he had scored for a pittance. Regardless, Eve stood attentively next to him, waiting for him to open the bag for her. When he did, one rat fell into the pile of its brethren, and as for the other...

Eve tossed and flicked her head until the rodent’s body aligned with her jaws. A new whirring noise kicked in as sets of wheels dragged it down her metal throat, and then a sickening grinding sound bounced around the pipes and fixtures. The dragon opened her mouth again and wiped it on his pants leg, to his mild dismay.

“You’re gonna have to drop that habit, or I’ll put you back on winding-only.”

Eve went still for a few seconds, but the gentle whirring of her insides picked up. When she moved again, she brought one upturned forepaw in front of the other, then cycled them around each other, and finally tapped her throat.

“Break a habit for a voice?” Finn asked. “Eve, voices are hard to come by. You know I would’ve gotten you one by now if I could.”

The sound of a much smaller creature skittering along the metal ground caught both of their attentions. Finn spun, aimed, and pulled the trigger, and a barbed, pointed pole flew from the tip of his weapon, with metal wire following shortly after. The rat screamed a squeaky scream, then fell quiet, and Finn reeled in his shot and prize.

Eve pressed her paw against his leg for his attention. She pointed her muzzle at the gun, then curled back at her own chest, and then she once again tapped her paw to her neck with an insistent clank-clank-clank. Finn furrowed his brow. “I’m pretty sure voice boxes are in a league of their own...” he started, then smiled broadly at her. “Then again, so am I. Mind giving up more than half your rats from now on, so we can go shopping for anything we can’t find?”

The dragon’s metal plating rattled against itself as she wiggled in anticipation, then bounded off to massacre more vermin.

-----

It was a glorious ceremony. Everyone sported their most elaborate suits and dresses, all in a modest brown. Some of the more adventurous gentlemen had constantly-turning gears on the hats they politely kept in their laps, but no longer were they nor their headwear the center of attention. Ms. Springwarden, soon to lose that name, stood in a beautiful, ornate, white dress, and stared adoringly at the man standing in front of her, who-

BOOM!

A shout rose up from the crowd as what used to be a wall was replaced by a hole and a dragon. The elaborate mechanical creature’s outer plating was a mismatch of bronze, iron, and steel, as though it had been dressed in a junkyard. And perched on its back was a man with a daring grin, who Ms. Springwarden found strangely familiar...

“Well! Ms. Springwarden, aren’t you moving up! The big boss himself, I wonder if you’ll outlast  his last four wives!” Finn shouted as he dismounted the dragon, landing with a roll and ending up right next to the bride-to-be.

Without opening her mouth, Eve spoke. “I am confident he will be her husband for the rest of his life,” she said. Her voice was unnatural, amateurish, and it sounded like it belonged in some sterile, form-over-function research lab, rather than a well-tuned dragon. Before anyone could react, she opened her jaws and snapped up the stunned man, soon feeding him to the wheels hidden behind her neck plating.

“Aw! Eve! I had planned this whole quip about how his factories have a great quantity of people and I’m about to increase the average quality!”

“So lie in your memoir.”

Many of the guests had fled the scene, with only a few hiding behind the benches, and Ms. Springwarden herself remained frozen to the spot. “Wh- who...?”

Finn swept into a deep bow, mockingly low. “Finnegan Shine, Ms. Springwarden. My friends call me Finn, but of course you never did. You may not remember me, and I sorely wish I could say the same. But now then...” He stepped backwards towards Eve, who lowered her head and opened her jaws. Finn leaned against her neck, feeling the whirr of the wheels making up her throat thrumming through her metal body. “They say marriage is for better or worse, right? What say you join your hubby in the ‘worse?’”

Eve’s distorted voice joined in once more, saying, “I remember you. That he is offering you a refusal is far more than I would have.”

The woman - having found a worse fate than being left at the altar - took a step back, shaking her head. “No... no. Please, no.”

To everyone’s surprise, the dragon snapped her mouth shut with a loud crash of metal, and Finn clambered back up onto her back. “Then it’s a damn lucky thing I’m not you, miss,” the man said, before the pair of them escaped through the dragon-sized hole in the wall.

Finn hugged Eve’s neck tight. One down, an unfortunate number to go. He just hoped his friends were having as much fun as he was.

[thatesqcrush]

Torts

AN: It’s Galileo day and I am beyond excited. Couldn’t sleep so I put the muse to work. CW: language, sex, def NSFW. References: The Undiscovered Country, S.19,E.13

Reader x Rafael. CW: language, sex, you know the drill. It’s Barba’s first day as a professor of law. Reader pays a visit!

***

Rafael dusted the chalk off that rubbed onto his vest. Rolling back his sleeves, he took a step back and looked at his scribbles on the board. Today was a new day for him. After leaving the D.A.’s office after being acquitted from the Householder case, Rafael took much needed time off to reconvene and figure out his priorities.

But Rafael wasn’t meant to be a homebody. He was growing increasingly bored and irritated at home.

It was only at your prodding that he interviewed for the professor opening at New York University.

***

“Rafael,” you said your boyfriend’s name firmly. “I love you but wasting away here at home. You have got to get back out there.”

“No one will hire me. I was acquitted formally but everyone will just think I am a baby killer,” Rafael protested, irritated. He scratched his 5 o’clock shadow and took a large gulp of his scotch. He sat down at the table in the apartment you two shared. Smells of roast chicken and yellow plantains mixed in the air.

You began to slice some tomatoes for the salad you were preparing. You picked up the slivered fruit and tossed them in the bowl with rest of the vegetables and wiped your hands on your apron. You turned to Rafael and placed your hands on your hips.

“Rafael, you live in a place that the men who wrote the law don’t even think about. You’re not a class A felon. This is not your Achilles heel. Just go - go for the interview. Who knows what will happen,” you reasoned. Rafael looked at you intently. You met his stare and cocked your brow, your lips pursed.

Rafael gave an exasperated sigh and threw his hands up. “Fine cariño. I’ll apply.”

“You have to get back out there love. You can’t stay inside forever. It’s not you,” you replied bringing the salad over to the table. You bent down and kissed Rafael softly.

Rafael pulled you into his lap and nuzzled your neck, breathing in your scent. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

****

Rafael’s phone buzzed loudly against the wooden desk, shaking him out of his reverie and back to reality. He saw that it was you and he answered it eagerly.

“¿Chula, que tal?” Rafael greeted you. “Can’t wait to see you later. I made dinner reservations.”

You sighed on the other line, knowing you were about to disappoint him. “Rafi, bad news. The deposition took forever and I missed my flight. I won’t be home until tomorrow morning.”

Rafael sighed, disappointed. “Okay.”

“I just wanted to wish you good luck on your first day. You’re going to do great Professor Barba. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Rafael replied. “Be safe. Call me before you take off.”

You promised you would and you hung up. You looked at the building in front of you, and smiled entering. After speaking with security, you made your way to the lecture hall that Rafael was teaching at.

Through the glass partition, you saw Rafael’s back was to you, so you quietly opened the door and sat in the first empty seat you saw in the back row. Taking the baseball cap from your bag, you slid it on and lowered the brim so that he couldn’t see your face.

“Welcome to Torts. I’m Professor Barba. There are few ground rules...”

You smiled as Rafael went through the ins and outs of the class and his expectations.

“Tort law is the area of law that protects people from bad acts of others. When someone acts in an unreasonably dangerous way, it is called a tortious act. However, tort law is not criminal law. Tort law gives a victim a civil remedy in the courts. The four elements to every successful tort case are: duty, breach of duty, causation and injury,” Rafael continued, his voice booming, filling the hall.

You smiled and discreetly looked around, seeing all the students transfixed on Rafael. You knew he’d be perfect - he had an audience in the courtroom- and now he had one right here.

“The four conditions must be met, each are necessary. None in itself is sufficient. There must be a duty or an obligation. This duty must have been breached. The breach must have a caused...” Rafael continued.

Ninety minutes later, Rafael ended his class, giving instructions on what readings to complete prior to the next class and hinting about a possible quiz in the immediate future.

As the class slowly emptied out, Rafael noticed you in the back, your head still bent.

“Can I help you? I have office hours this afternoon, but another class will be here in about thirty minutes,” Rafael called out you, as he packed up his briefcase.

You looked up, and removed your cap, revealing yourself. “Oh, I think I will need so much help, Professor.”

Rafael was surprised and he gave you a toothy grin. “Y/N - what are you doing here? I thought you had missed a flight.”

“I’m a lawyer darling. I know how to lie,” you teased as you negotiated the stairs and approached him. You pressed your hands against his chest and kissed Rafael.

Rafael returned your kiss and cupped your chin, tilting your face more towards him. You broke the kiss and hopped onto his desk. “You know,” you began, running a finger down the neckline of your blouse, “I never had a professor who looked as good as you.”

Rafael eyed your cleavage and smirked. “No?”

You shook your head. “No... your students are very lucky. I bet your office hours will be packed with students who just cannot seem to focus. They’ll need extra time with their sexy professor.” You began unbuttoning your blouse. Rafael swallowed hard, and ran a hand through his dark hair.

“Cariño,” Rafael warned, his eyes darting to see if anyone was around.

“What?” You asked innocently, batting your lashes, letting your shirt hang open to reveal your lace encased breasts.

“Y/N! It’s my first day!” Rafael hissed. “We can play at home.”

You rolled your eyes and hopped off the desk, turning to show off your derrière. “Oh come on Professor Barba,” you continued to goat. “I bet all of your students will be fantasizing about getting under you. I know if you were mine, it would be all that I could think about.”

Rafael swallowed hard. He could feel his cock twitch as he took in your form. ‘It would be so easy,’ he thought - to just take you where you were. He would just flip up your skirt and unzip his fly... he just knew how wet you were and how easily your pussy would welcome his cock.

“Okay y/n, but we make it quick,” Rafael agreed. Before you could react, Rafael was on you, like a hyena capturing a wildebeest. Rafael spun you around and kissed you hard. Your tongue tangled with his. Rafael tasted like coffee, mint, and something that was uniquely him. You moaned softly as Rafael suckled on your sweet spot. He nipped your neck and you hissed in pleasure. His tongue snaked out to soothe the hickey he left and you groaned again. Your panties were soaking already - you were so turned on and the two of you had just started.

Reaching to your thighs, you shimmied your skirt up and then reached down to pull down your panties to mid-thigh. Rafael copped a feel and he growled at how wet you already were. You writhed against his hand, trying to increase pressure or get him to finger fuck you. Rafael took the hint and slipped one digit inside of you. Your hips bucked automatically to Rafael’s ministrations. You head fell forward, as Rafael thrusted his finger in and out of you in a languid pace. Rafael used his other large hand to undo the fly of his pants and released his aching, weeping cock. Rafael slipped his finger out and you whined at the lost sensation.

Your whines were replaced with moans as you felt the head of Rafael’s cock at your entrance. You lowered yourself further into the desk and braved yourself. Rafael spread your legs a bit further- or as further as they could go with your underwear still at your thighs. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured as he took in the sight of your naked ass. Teasingly he ran his cock up and down your slit before entering you. The two of you groaned at the sensation. “Remember, gotta be quick,” Rafael groaned. You nodded. “I...I know,” you choked out.

Rafael began thrusting in and out of you quickly. Each snap of his hip propelled you forward. You met his thrusts eagerly and the sounds of furious fucking filled the lecture hall, echoing off the empty room. Rafael reached down to rub your swollen clit and you choked back a sob as pleasure coursed your body.

“I am so close,” you panted. “Give it to me. I want it.”

“Take it y/n,” Rafael growled in response. “Take that cock.”

Rafael’s filthy words were your undoing and you came around his cock, his name on your lips. Rafael followed soon thereafter, his hips stiffening as he emptied his load into you. Rafael chanted your name as if it were a prayer.

The two of you stayed intimately connected for a minute before Rafael slipped out of you. As he tucked himself back into his pants, you reached down to pull up your panties and slip down your skirt. You could feel Rafael’s cum drip out of you and pool in your panties, and out the sides, to your thighs. You felt erotically charged.

“Well, safe to say you’re having a great first day,” you teased pressing a chaste kiss against his lips. Rafael wrapped his arms around you, and returned the kiss.

“That I am. But I have to return to my office and get ready for my next class. I’ll see you tonight, definitely dinner.”

You nodded, pulling away to grab your belongings. As you headed to the stairs, you looked back at Rafael. “Hey Professor Barba?”

Rafael looked at you, a flicker of lust in his eyes. “Yes?”

“I think I’ll drop by during office hours. Make sure your door lock works,” you winked.

“You’re incorrigible!” Rafael teased watching you bound up the stairs.

“But you love it,” you called back before exiting.

“That I do,” Rafael murmured as he gathered the rest of his stuff. “That I do.”

*FIN*

[aidanchaser]

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero and Aubs

Chapter Nine The Half-Blood Prince

Severus Snape was not especially looking forward to his first day of teaching. Though he’d fought for the position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts for years, receiving it this year of all years felt like a slap in the face.

Of course the job was cursed. He’d watched professors come and go each year as their student and he’d watched them come and go as their colleague. He’d thought — or perhaps he had simply hoped — that Lily might have been the professor to break the curse, but she had left as they all had. And now it was his turn.

Severus knew that Dumbledore hoped this would work out in their favor in the end. Severus would exit the position with a promotion. He would go from professor to Headmaster instead of professor to unemployed. When Dumbledore had presented the plan, Severus had protested that Minerva was poised to become Headmistress at Dumbledore’s inevitable passing. Dumbledore, however, seemed certain that the Dark Lord would not be satisfied with control over the Ministry. He would want control over Hogwarts as well, and if Severus could provide him with that, it would mitigate the damage that might otherwise be done to staff and students.

As he prepared for the first day of classes, Severus wondered what it would be like in just twelve months from now. Dumbledore would be dead — whether by Severus’s hand or as a result of Dumbledore’s own folly — and Severus would be the new Headmaster. He’d be above Minerva, who had been in the Order with him these last two years, and would know by then that he was a traitor.

Dumbledore had promised him the task of double agent would be difficult, but Severus had never imagined that he would have to betray the Order so drastically. Though there was not anyone in the Order he truly considered a friend, Minerva, as his colleague, was the closest thing to it. And those thin threads that still connected him to Lily would be severed once again.

Severus recalled his conversation with Tonks the night before. It had not been difficult to be cruel to her, though his choice in words would not have been his first choice if circumstances had been different. It was better this way, he reminded himself. If he was cruel to them now it would make the moment he betrayed them easier to believe. The last thing he needed was another incident where Harry Potter made connections about his true loyalties and unwittingly passed them on to the Dark Lord.

Sniping at Tonks for her affections had perhaps been a low blow, but they were only the things he had told himself about his own affections. They were easy shots to take.

The Great Hall was full of students, full of energy, still bubbling with excitement about the new year. The first day of classes was always a thrilling one, before the drudgery of hard work set in. Severus noticed, though, as he took his seat at the teacher’s table, there was a marked difference. There was a unique desperation in the air as students reunited with friends, friends who they had worried about all summer. It was a strange sensation, one Severus remembered unfortunately well, to be reunited with someone who you worried might have died.

Severus had hardly picked up his goblet when a collection of third years crowded around his table asking for their elective schedules. As Head of Slytherin House he was responsible for his students’ courses, but this summer had left him with little time to attend to such a menial task as approving his students course selections. Most professors handed out their course schedules to the students at the house tables. Even now, Severus could see Minerva making her way among her students. Severus, however, expected his students to take initiative. Slytherin House was about making your own way, fighting for your own success. His students came to him for what they needed.

The third years, at least, were easy. As long as no one tried to take anything with a scheduling conflict, they were fine to take whatever classes intrigued them. Hardly any Slytherins had ever taken Muggle Studies, which left them available for Care of Magical Creatures, and there were very few driven enough to be in Slytherin who also had an interest in the vague and unclear art of Divination, which opened up their schedules for the much more precise science of Arithmancy.

Sixth years schedules were more difficult.

Severus Appeared the third year course list and hastily approved students’ requests. Once his table was clear of them, he tapped his wand against the edge of the table and Appeared his sixth years’ O.W.L. results. They were disappointing, to say the least.

Slytherin was a house for the proud and ambitious, those who had high aspirations and would go on to achieve great things. Slytherin had turned out more Ministers for Magic than any other house. Yes, they had a reputation for Dark Wizards, but Ravenclaw, too, had turned out its fair share of Dark Wizards. And if you counted Peter Pettigrew — and Severus very much did — Gryffindor was not exempt. Only Hufflepuff had a spotless record.

This batch of Slytherins, though, was full of students whose parents held prestigious positions, and these students did not seem interested in working for much ambition of their own.

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were prime examples. If Snape did not know their parents well, and was not interested in saving as much face as possible among Death Eaters, he would have had Crabbe and Goyle expelled from Hogwarts for their dismal O.W.L. results. As it was, he had a vested interest in at least making it appear like he cared for these particular students’ success, so he scheduled them for Remedial Defense Against the Dark Arts courses.

Severus finished each of his students’ schedules and proceeded to hand them out. Traditionally, he did this alphabetically, but this year he saved Draco Malfoy for last.

Malfoy noticed.

Malfoy approached the table with a sour expression.

“Welcome back, Mr. Malfoy,” Severus said, and handed Draco a course schedule. “You achieved two Outstandings, and a total of eight O.W.L.s. You should be quite proud. I’ve written a recommended schedule for you. I expect you’ll continue with Defense and Potions, as we discussed in your Career meeting. I’ve also added Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, and History of Magic to your course list.”

“I don’t need all that,” Malfoy said. The disdain in his voice was clear. Severus realized he had a lot of work to do if he was going to earn Malfoy’s trust.

“You’ll need knowledge in quite a few fields if —”

“I’ll keep Potions and Defense. I don’t need the rest of that rubbish.”

Severus considered Malfoy. His face was paler than usual. Dark circles rimmed his eyes. It had not been an easy summer for him. It would not be an easy year. Draco had been given the same task Severus had, and it weighed just as heavily on much less experienced shoulders.

Severus chose his next words very carefully. “Your father would not appreciate you shirking your education. You’ll keep Charms and Transfiguration in addition to Potions and Defense. I recommend you continue History of Magic. Next year, I’d like to recommend you for Head Boy, and you’ll need —”

Malfoy laughed. It was bold, rash, and incredibly rude. “Next year? We’ll just see what happens next year.”

Malfoy snatched his schedule from Severus. With his own quill, he crossed off History of Magic, Herbology, and he nearly crossed off Charms next, but Severus tapped his wand and Vanished Malfoy’s quill.

“Your overconfidence is astounding indeed, Mr. Malfoy. You will certainly take Transfiguration and Charms. And please visit my office after dinner tonight. There are important things we need to discuss.”

Malfoy said nothing more. He tucked the schedule into his robes and stalked back to the Slytherin table. Severus watched Malfoy go and wondered what exactly the young man had planned. His brash comment seemed to indicate he had an idea of what he was doing. That only worried Severus more. Malfoy was young, impulsive, as Severus had been at his age. Severus had done plenty of damage with his own plans, and there had been a good bit of collateral with each execution.

But those had been pranks; no one had been permanently hurt. What Draco was attempting….

Severus worried. Not only would he die if he didn’t help Malfoy, thanks to the Vow he had made, he worried about who might get hurt if they got in Malfoy’s way, intentionally or accidentally. He worried about Malfoy hurting himself. It was too much to ask a boy to kill the man that the Dark Lord himself could not.

But of course, the Dark Lord did not expect Draco to succeed. He meant for Severus to do it, in the end. And Severus would.

Severus left the staff table, ignored Flitwick’s cheerful greeting as they passed in the doorway, and headed to his new classroom. It had been easy to decorate, since Umbridge had not bothered with it herself. Snape had filled the blank walls with portraits portraying curses designed to induce a healthy fear of the Dark Arts into his students. Especially these days, the students needed to know what they were protecting themselves against. He hoped the rigor Mad-Eye Moody had drilled into them had not faded under Umbridge’s tutelage.

His morning class of bright-eyed Ravenclaw first years gasped in terror as they entered. The bravest whispered about the portraits on the wall; most were utterly silent. He spent the hour pacing the rows of desks, cloak billowing behind him as he lectured about Curses, Jinxes, Hexes, and Charms. He promised them that by the end of the year they would be able to perform Stunning Spells and Shield Charms with ease, and if they had any fears about what would await them out there, they would learn to face those fears in here. He had them begin by practicing the Knockback Jinx. Ultimately harmless, especially among first years who hadn’t even learned Wand-Lighting Charms, but simple enough that by the end of the lesson two students could successfully knock their friends over.

He had his N.E.W.T.-level students next. It was a larger N.E.W.T.-level Defense course than these last few years. So large, in fact, that though most upper-level classes prepared sixth and seventh years together, this year’s Defense class was separated.

Seventeen sixth-years were waiting for him when he opened his classroom doors.

Severus remembered how even in his time at school, Defense Against the Dark Arts was a crowded class, despite a similarly disjointed education. Students wanted to fight, on both sides of the war, and Defense Against the Dark Arts was the best place to learn to do that.

But after Dolores Umbridge’s rigid lessons, centered on simple theory and text-book applications, Severus had not expected this many to pass their exam, let alone achieve “Exceeds Expectations.” Experience was the best teacher in many ways, and that saying was perhaps truest of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Perhaps the practical portion of the exam had simply been easier last year.

Severus observed each student as they filed in. He’d had a long-standing policy of only accepting students with a score of “Outstanding” into his N.E.W.T.-level course, and he’d intended to continue that high standard as a Defense teacher. Unfortunately, there was only one student who had achieved an “Outstanding” in this class of students.

He was not surprised to see Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, not only because he had already approved them for the class, but because they were two of his most ambitious Slytherins, the two most willing to apply themselves to their studies. There were a handful of Ravenclaws, equally unsurprising. The Patil twins in particular were dedicated, and he would not have been disappointed to have them in his house. Then there were the Hufflepuffs. Susan Bones was no surprise, as her Aunt was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan were a surprise. Severus had never expected them to have the dedication necessary for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Stubborn determination did little good in subjects that required the finesse and ability to adapt that the Dark Arts and Potions demanded.

Then there were the Gryffindors. Severus counted the number of red-lined robes twice to be sure that nearly the entire house was present. Only two of the Gryffindor sixth years were not present.

Neville Longbottom was perhaps the biggest surprise. Severus wondered if his parents had helped him somehow, because he had not seen any skill in Longbottom before. Then again Neville had survived in the Department of Mysteries against thirteen Death Eaters, so perhaps there was something hidden deep down.

Lavender Brown and Seamus Finnigan, similarly, did not have the skill Severus expected of his students, but he had to admit that any Death Eater would be rightly terrified of Finnigan’s accidental explosions. Dean Thomas, at least, he expected to be in this class. Thomas had an ability to adapt and respond in a way most Gryffindors didn’t, in a way that served well in a duel.

Then there was Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. How Weasley had scraped an Exceeds Expectations was beyond him, but Hermione Granger’s studious nature was obvious as even now she was pulling out her textbook.

“I have not asked you to take out your books,” Severus said as he closed the door. He paced to the front of the classroom and turned, black cloak billowing as he faced the students. “I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention.”

Granger was staring now, entirely focused. Her work ethic did not make up for nor compensate for something she was missing by being Muggleborn. She was so much like Lily, though he did not think her natural talent lay in Potions the way Lily’s had.

And of course… Severus’s gaze lingered on Harry for a moment. Those green eyes that were too painfully familiar. Of course Harry Potter had been the only student to achieve an “Outstanding” in his Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.

Experience was the best teacher indeed.

“You have had six teachers in this subject so far, I believe,” Severus continued, doing his best to forget that Lily had been one of them. “Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion, I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced.”

Severus walked between the desks as he had with the Ravenclaws, though there were considerably more students in this class. He slowed his speech, so that it would be evenly paced to his walk around the classroom.

“The Dark Arts are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible. Your defenses must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo.”

Snape paused, stopping exactly where he had meant to, against the wall, beneath the portraits of curses. “These pictures,” he gestured to the frames above, “give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse —” Severus paused under a portrait of a wizard writhing in agony. His stomach turned both with the memory of his own experience and the knowledge that at least two of the students had felt the same pain he had “— feel the Dementor’s Kiss —” this portrait was of a wizard who had a blank look on his face, no emotion, expression empty, and Snape knew, again, that one student was familiar with the sensation of having his soul torn from his body “— or provoke the aggression of the Inferius.”

The pile of bloody bodies had several students gasp in horror and Parvati Patil squeaked out, “Has an Inferius been seen, then? Is it definite, is he using them?”

Severus did not appreciate being interrupted, but having seen a small army of Inferi ravage a Muggle town, he did not begrudge Patil her fear.

“The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past,” he said, “which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again.”

The drama of introducing each portrait had faded with Patil’s outburst, so Severus returned to the front of the classroom. “Now, you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?”

Unsurprisingly, Granger raised her hand. Severus waited for any other student to participate, certain it was a question with such a simple answer that someone had to know it, but no one else volunteered.

“Very well — Miss Granger?”

Her answer was accurate and academic. “Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you’re about to perform, which gives you a split-second advantage.”

“An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six, but correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some,” Severus could not help but recall the dismal Occlumency lessons in which Potter put forward little effort, “lack.”

He saw Lily’s fury reflected in Potter’s glare and quickly turned his gaze on the rest of the class. It was difficult enough to think of her and of James each time he saw Potter. It was worse to know that Potter knew it, too.

“You will now divide into pairs,” he told the class. “One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on.”

The lesson was something of a disaster. The students paired within their houses, easily enough, though the trio of Hufflepuffs clustered together, since the odd number of students prevented perfect pairs. As Severus had expected, the few successful spells he witnessed were the result of cheating. Students did their best to whisper their spells out of earshot, which at least was a step in the right direction. The danger was that whispering or muttering spells could muddy intent and lead to poor casting. This was obvious when Finnigan muttered “Expelliarmus,” and Thomas yelped as he failed to repel a small explosion.

Granger was the only student who had any success. She repelled Longbottom’s muttered Jelly-Legs Jinx without moving her mouth at all. Her Shield Charm was small, and would not have survived a spell from a competent caster, but it was better progress than Weasley and Potter were making.

Weasley’s face was nearly purple with the effort of focusing on his jinx, and Potter stood across from him, wand raised half-heartedly, clearly unprepared to defend himself appropriately. Severus could not see how Potter deserved to look so smug and confident simply because his partner was incompetent.

“Pathetic, Weasley,” Severus said, as he strode to their aisle. “Here — let me show you —” He threw a simple Stunning Spell at Potter, but the red spark was hardly at the tip of his wand when Potter shouted, “Protego!”

Severus’s curse rebounded and he was thrown into a desk. He remembered Lily’s powerful Shield Charm and thought Harry had had much better teachers than Umbridge.

When he had recovered his breath and smoothed his robes, Severus said, “Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?”

Potter, voice entirely bitter and unashamed, said, “Yes.”

“‘Yes, sir,’” Severus corrected.

“There’s no need to call me ‘sir,’ Professor.”

Snape let the silence linger for a moment, waited for the gasps of a few of the more appalled students to fade, and said, “Detention, Saturday night, my office. I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter, not even ‘the Chosen One’.”

He continued his walk across the classroom, to correct Parkinson’s stance, which was sure to get her knocked over if Malfoy landed a hit. So far Malfoy hadn’t, but Severus thought that might have more to do with Malfoy dating Parkinson than it did with any skill on Malfoy’s part.

The rest of the class passed uneventfully. There were no successes besides Granger, and Severus was left feeling less than optimistic about the sixth year’s chances on their N.E.W.T.s, much less out in the real world.

The only class that showed any talent was his Slytherin third years. He had two that were able to produce fully-realized Shield Charms, and Stunned their peers with ease. They were quite comfortable with many defensive spells, and Severus was surprised to discover that though one, Atalanta Shafiq was expectedly a pure-blood, the other, Hugh Ward, was only a half-blood, so he probably had not learned from his parents. He wished all his students showed their aptitude and dedication.

Severus headed down to the Great Hall for dinner. He kept an eye on the Slytherin table, hoping Malfoy would seek him out before the end of the meal, or might follow him to his office that evening. Though, judging from his conversation with the boy at breakfast, Malfoy was not particularly interested in anyone’s help.

Still, Severus kept an eye on him as he sat between Crabbe and Goyle. Usually Malfoy was showing off for his friends, making himself the center of attention. This evening he seemed sullen and morose. He picked at his food disinterestedly, and made no attempt to engage Crabbe and Goyle, who devoted all their focus to their meal instead.

“My, my, Severus,” an unfortunately familiar voice said, and the chair beside Severus creaked under the enormous weight of Horace Slughorn, “you didn’t tell me what a brilliant Potions class those sixth years are.”

Severus had not considered any of the sixth years particularly adept at Potions. He watched as Slughorn tucked his napkin into the collar of his robes and immediately began to dig into the roasted duck.

“It must have slipped my mind.” Severus wondered which students Slughorn could possibly be talking about. He didn’t think very many had even achieved an “Outstanding” on their O.W.L.

“That Granger girl is certainly something,” Slughorn said. “Not a natural, not like yourself, of course, but her dedication is truly impressive! With her ambition, she could have easily been in our house! Never seen someone so studious, not in many, many years.”

Severus recalled Slughorn making similar comments about another Muggleborn girl who had gone to Gryffindor, another girl Slughorn was certain should have belonged to Slytherin. Severus, too, wished she had gone to Slytherin, but he was not sure it would have changed very much between them. Perhaps it would have only made things worse.

“I take it she won the contest you do each year?” Severus remembered his sixth and seventh year N.E.W.T. classes. He remembered smelling Amortentia and knowing exactly what that floral spray meant. He hadn’t needed the potion to tell him where his heart was focused. He stuffed a helping of potato into his mouth, hoping to hide the flush in his face.

“Oh, goodness, no, Harry Potter did of course.”

Severus choked on his bite of potato.

“There, there, Severus.” Slughorn patted him on the back. “Don’t go gorging yourself too quickly or you’ll end up looking like me!” He laughed good-naturedly and took another bite of his duck. When he had chewed and swallowed, and Severus had washed his food down with a glass of water, Slughorn said, “I can’t believe you didn’t warn me about Potter. He has his mother’s talent, certainly! I haven’t seen a Draught of Living Death brewed with such delicacy since… since… well, since you and her were in my class. The two of you competed very fiercely for that Felix Felicis, if I recall.”

“Yes, we did.” Severus was careful to keep his voice even. He did not need rumors of his affections spreading beyond the company of Death Eaters who already knew. He also did not understand how Potter could have succeeded so brilliantly as to warrant this praise from Slughorn. Surely Slughorn’s admiration was clouded by his belief that Potter was “The Chosen One.” There was no other explanation.

Severus tuned Slughorn out as he began to carry on about other success stories in his class. Severus had little interest in being reminded of old classmates just now, and instead returned to watching Draco. But when he searched the Slytherin table, it appeared that Draco had already slipped away.

“Excuse me,” Severus said abruptly, and stood.

Slughorn gaped for a moment, mouth opening and closing like a fish searching for air, but as Severus slipped away, Slughorn quickly turned to Flitwick, and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened.

Severus was halfway down the stairs of the entrance hall when a voice only marginally more welcome than Slughorn’s called to him from above.

“Severus — might I have a brief word?”

Severus stopped and turned to face Dumbledore. “You might, sir.”

“I have heard that Potter already has a detention with you this Saturday.”

“My apologies, Professor Dumbledore. I shall make a note that ‘the Chosen One’ is exempt from such consequences for misbehaving.”

“Come now, Severus, there’s no need for that.”

“I do not tolerate disrespect from my students, so if —”

“Severus, you seem to be quite on edge tonight. Has something happened?”

Severus took a moment to swallow down more than just the potato he’d choked on at dinner. He was always on edge when they discussed Potter, and Slughorn had not made this conversation any easier.

“You said you needed a brief word, Professor,” Severus said, “so if you merely wanted to excuse Potter from detention, I should be on my way to find Malfoy, sir.”

“I’ve no wish to excuse Harry from detentions from you nor any other teacher. You decide how to teach your class. But I would ask that you reschedule his detention for Saturday next instead. I have business with him this Saturday and find my calendar rather difficult to rearrange these days.”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “You have business with Potter?”

“Saturday next, then, for his detention? I do not wish to keep you any longer, Severus.”

Severus had hardly nodded his agreement before Dumbledore had turned up the stairs and headed back to the Great Hall.

Severus walked to his office, head swimming from his two conversations. What exactly did Dumbledore want with Potter? And why did Slughorn think Potter was worthy of receiving the Felix Felicis? Surely Malfoy should have been the most exceptional Potions student. If Malfoy had been given it, perhaps others would be less likely to be hurt…. Or perhaps Potter’s success was a blessing in disguise.

Snape was so wrapped in thought, he did not notice that his office door was ajar until he reached for the handle, and found it just out of place. He pushed the door open cautiously, hoping to find Malfoy inside.

He was disappointed. There was only a black cat perched on his desk, with intelligent grey eyes that tracked Severus as he entered.

Severus’s dark eyes glanced at the thin white stripe running down the cat’s chest. “You aren’t worried Potter’ll catch you, then? With that highly illegal map of his?”

The cat flicked its tail once. Severus did not know what this meant.

He did not close the door behind him — the last thing he needed was to have to get up and let the cat out again. “I told Malfoy to meet me down here after dinner.” Severus glanced at the clock on the wall and realized it was nearly curfew. “It seems he has decided not to show. If he won’t listen to me, I’m not sure how much more help you can be.”

The cat continued to stare at him with large, grey eyes. Its fur was so sleek and black it almost blended into the dark wood top of Severus’s desk. If it were not for the eyes and the streak of white, it would be difficult in the dimly lit office to determine if there truly was a cat sitting on the desk.

Severus sat down at his desk, thinking the cat might leave if he got too close. Instead, the cat stretched out on the desk and lounged as if it were settling in for a nap.

“I imagine you remember where the Slytherin common room is,” Severus said. “You’ll have better luck sniffing him out there, as much as I might wish he were here.”

The cat yawned and stretched again. Its claws scratched the surface of Severus’s desk. He refrained from expressing his irritation.

“The password is ‘Morgan le Fay’ at the moment, though I’m not sure it’ll be useful to you in that shape. If you hurry, you might have some luck slipping in after students hurrying not to get caught out after curfew.”

The cat did not seem interested in hurrying anywhere. It yawned one more time, blinked at him, then lazily hopped down from the desk. Severus could not see it cross the floor, but he assumed it was making its way out of his office and towards the Slytherin common room, on its way to help Draco Malfoy with his highly dangerous task. Or, more accurately, prevent Draco from truly succeeding.

Severus could not do that. He must help Malfoy succeed, and his goal was to make sure no one else got hurt. Regulus Black, however, had not made an Unbreakable Vow. Regulus had not promised to help Draco succeed at any cost. Regulus had not promised to protect Draco no matter what. And Regulus had not promised to kill Dumbledore should Draco fail.

So Severus would do it. When the time came, Severus would kill Dumbledore, and all his ties with the Order would end — all except for one.

[ms31x129]

Little Boy Blue

Summary:            

“Son, you look like you’re going through some hard times. And every once in a while you gotta accept a little help.”

XFXFXFXFXFXFXFXFXFXFXFXF

It was almost time. He could feel it.

He walks to the end of the room and pulls back the ugly brown drape.

Yes, it would be soon.

He knows it, can almost physically sense it, the same way he can feel the cold that is creeping through the edges of the window pane. Frost clings thick to the glass like tiny snow drifts in the corners. Absently he uses his fingernail to carve a heart into the icy landscape.

He remembers once doing the same thing to the soft skin of her back. She’d giggled as he’d traced ‘I Love You’ with a feather-like touch.

His eyes darken when he remembers finding the trace of red the laser had missed.

And just like that he recalls the city he’s lost the most in. His nails dig in, scratching out the ice-etched heart.

He should have known better than to seek refuge in that wretched city of all places.

He left in May and now in December, when most people are celebrating the holidays with family and friends, he’s just getting through each day.

He’s traveled across the country hundreds of times; usually she was by his side. She wasn’t always happy about it, but she was there.

But he’s tired of moving, of running. Tired of being without contact.

When he left, he’d thought maybe he could teach. Access to whatever false ID and credentials he would need was easily remedied. He’d moved every 3 days from May to July. By then his funds had dwindled and needed to be replenished somehow.

* * * * *

A small town with a community college in Arizona needed a Mythology instructor; Professor Kent Searcher accepted. He gathered the text books he needed, read them cover to cover and had his class syllabus prepared in three days. He found it ironic that he was looking forward to using some of the knowledge he’d worked a lifetime to achieve in this capacity.

Surprisingly, he was content teaching the students–some of them so willing to believe–who didn’t need solid scientific evidence.

The students sensed it the moment their professor’s mood changed, his animated speech breaking off in mid-sentence.

He cleared his throat and bowed his head, asking them to please study quietly until the end of class. He removed his glasses and sat, thumbs digging into the corners of his eyes.

The motion hadn’t been casual enough that they’d missed his reddened eyes and several wayward tears.

He got word the last week in September. They were coming.

He’d left with 8 bags in May. By October, when Mark Hunter took a job coaching High School Basketball, there were only 4. Two of those remained in the trunk of the car.

Six weeks later he accepted a dinner invitation from the 8th grade English teacher. He was lonely and longed for some one on one adult conversation.

She was attractive, though her beauty paled in comparison to the one he still loved. The one he still dreamed about every night he closed his eyes.

He arrived at 7. She smiled and ushered him into the living room. He made himself comfortable on the couch while she excused herself for a moment. He was shocked when she returned and placed a baby into his arms, “Could you hold him while I check the oven?” He nodded dumbly.

How could he forget she’d told him about her 6 month old son?

She returned to find him openly weeping, even as her son slept on, oblivious. He stood, handed her the baby and left.

* * * * *

Finally a bright spot on the horizon. He was needed.

At home. He was going home.

Danger.

A mad dash.

He was chased between boxcars and engines.

A missed chance.

A petite figure stood on the platform, watching the train with him depart.

He ran to his car, eyes burning, tears clouding his vision. He was somewhere in Ohio when exhaustion overcame him and he drove the car into a ditch.

* * * * *

He was found unconscious and taken to the local clinic.

The mechanic who towed the car offered him a job in exchange for the repairs necessary to get his vehicle back on the road. Mr. Guthrie didn’t even mind that he didn’t have any automotive experience short of putting the key in the ignition. He just said, “Son, you look like you’re going through some hard times. And every once in a while you gotta accept a little help.”

He became a wiz at tire rotation, fixing flats and oil changes. He heard the explosion as he was walking to the garage one day. Guthrie’s Repair Shop was a ball of flames; black smoke clouds floated up from the building. He ran back to the bed and breakfast, threw as much as he could into one bag and left town in the truck Mr. Guthrie had loaned him.

He’d abandoned the truck 2 hours later.

He didn’t know if the man who’d taken a complete stranger under his wing was alive or dead as he boarded a bus headed east.

Just one more thing to weigh heavily on his mind.

As the bus ate the highway miles, he fell into a fitful sleep, realizing; each time They found him was sooner than the last.

* * * * *

Donovan Seeker left the grocery store where he worked as a stock boy… man, went to his dingy efficiency apartment and changed into his jogging gear.

Even the snow of mid-December didn’t slow his pace. His normal route took him within 5 blocks of the Liberty Bell, but this night he travelled a new path.

He ran until he spotted the shop. He turned 180 degrees, saw the bar across the street and made his way in.

Dirty, dark and smoky.

A place for adulterers, drug dealers, prostitutes… and whores. Low-life, scum.

The kind of place she shouldn’t have been in… but had.

Anger lashed through him. He turned, slammed the door open.

Run, run, run. Legs pumping. Heart pounding.

What should have been ancient history wasn’t. It just wasn’t.

He made it back to the apartment, unlocked and opened the door with a forceful bang against the wall. He stripped quickly, climbed into the shower.

Hot, hot water. Scrub, scrub. Harder. Faster. He tried to get rid of the images, the anger.

Finally he shut the water off. Dried off, calmer than before. A car door slammed, he made his way to the window.

They were coming.

He grabbed his jacket, his wallet. Reached into the pocket quickly and felt the softness of his one memento. He heard them coming down the hall. Out of time, he opened the window and crawled out onto the fire escape. The old window slammed, catching his jacket sleeve.

They kicked the door in, searched the room. A leather jacket was hanging from the window. They looked down and saw him disappearing around the corner.

They smiled, knowing they would succeed soon.

* * * * *

He’s left his frosty window.

Reclining on the bed he lets his insecurities and anger reign.

Why is he the one running? Why aren’t they together?

Instead he’s the one alone. He’s the one unemployed and surprised at being depressed over getting laid off from a janitor’s job.

At least she still has….

While he has nothing, nothing at all.

Maybe she’s moved on, has another man, another lover. Someone to help raise their son.

Their son. HIS son. A son he should be able to see dressed in a little Santa outfit tonight, Christmas Eve. And then after he’s asleep, the naughty elf could come out and play. He could urge mommy to get naked and on her hands and knees in front of the Christmas tree, while they play 'drive the sleigh’.

Maybe it’s Doggett. He’d sure managed to fill in nicely in the work place. Maybe he’s warming the sheets too.

He knows it isn’t him, and hasn’t been since before William. So few times really; when was William conceived? He hopes it was after they’d shared a beer and movie date together. A happy, comfortable moment in their lives. He hates thinking she was already pregnant and feeding liquor to the tiny person growing inside of her.

He remembers the day he left with such clarity.

* * * * *

William was unusually alert and fussy for a newborn. Could he sense he might never see his father again? Scully started crying and he’d taken the baby into the bedroom, stretching out on the bed with him. Still shirtless after his shower, he held his son against his skin. His large hands held his precious package with tenderness and awe.

He began to sing, softly, his voice full of emotion.

Scully came into the room just in time to hear him choke out, 'he learned to walk while I was away’. She stifled a sob and left them alone.

William quieted, listening intently to his father’s voice singing a heartfelt rendition of 'Cat’s in the Cradle’, he’d finally dropped off to sleep.

After placing William safe and sound in his cradle. Mulder finished dressing and went into the living room.  Scully sat on the couch, quiet, subdued. They avoided looking at each other. He picked up his bags and was almost out the door before Scully was in his arms. She wanted to make love, she didn’t care that she’d just given birth. Kissing her lips and brushing her tears away with his thumbs, he gently declined.

Two hours later, on the road to nowhere, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the only thing he had of William’s. He brought it to his nose and inhaled the sweet baby smell, felt the soft yarn tickling his skin. Swearing to himself to never, never lose it.

* * * * *

But he did.

In fucking Philadelphia.

He lost the only physical connection he had to his son. Such an insignificant thing really, just the warming cap he’d worn during his short hospital stay, but it’d meant everything to him to have something that had actually touched his son.

There hadn’t been time for pictures.

He goes to the window again, sees his reflection and the tears streaming down his face. He has nothing to remember his son by, while she has it all.

He wonders how long it takes for love to turn to hate. He wonders how much longer it will be for him….

And if he’ll run the next time They come for him.

The end…

                                 Notes:  

I wrote this years ago. Started it just after the S8 premiere and finished it just after Trust No 1 aired. It’s on Gossamer, but I’m going to update it a tad along with my other fic and migrate the updates here. So below you’ll find original notes.

1. I miss the X Files. 2. I miss Mulder’s passion and wonder. 3. This is dedicated to Jemirah, she makes my wild ramblings not so-well-rambling. *g* Thank you.

[pigmentation21]

Depression vedas cure

Depression

Gloom is the primary driver of disabilityTrusted Source around the world, as indicated by the World Health Organization (WHO). It can influence grown-ups, youths, and youngsters.

In this article, realize what despondency is and what causes it. We likewise depict the sorts, their medicines, and that's only the tip of the iceberg.

Definition

An individual with wretchedness may encounter diligent bitterness.

Wretchedness is a temperament problem that includes a tenacious sensation of misery and loss of interest. It is not the same as the temperament changes that individuals consistently experience as a piece of life.

Significant life occasions, like mourning or the departure of a task, can lead toTrusted Source wretchedness. Nonetheless, specialists just believe sensations of misery to be important for sadness in the event that they continue.

Wretchedness is a continuous issue, not a passing one. It comprises of scenes during which the indications keep going for somewhere around fourteen days. Melancholy can keep going for a little while, months, or a long time.

Signs and side effects

The side effects of sadness can include:

a discouraged state of mind

decreased interest or joy in exercises once appreciated

a deficiency of sexual craving

changes in craving

unexpected weight reduction or gain

resting excessively or excessively little

fomentation, anxiety, and pacing all over

eased back development and discourse

exhaustion or loss of energy

sensations of uselessness or blame

trouble thinking, focusing, or deciding

repetitive considerations of death or self destruction, or an endeavor at self destruction

Discover more about perceiving the secret indications of despondency.

In females

Despondency is almost twice as commonTrusted Source among ladies as men, as indicated by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC).

The following are some symptomsTrusted Source of misery that will in general show up more frequently in females:

touchiness

tension

disposition swings

exhaustion

ruminating (harping on adverse considerations)

Additionally, a few kinds of sadness are exceptional to females, for example,

post pregnancy anxiety

premenstrual dysphoric problem

In guys

Around 9% of men in the United States have sensations of sadness or tension, as per the American Psychological Association.

Guys with sadness are almost certain than females to savor liquor overabundance, show outrage, and participate in hazard taking because of the problem.

Different indications of wretchedness in guys may include:

staying away from families and social circumstances

working without a break

experiencing issues staying aware of work and family obligations

showing harmful or controlling conduct seeing someone

Get familiar with the side effects of gloom in men.

In understudies

Time at school can unpleasant, and an individual might be managing different ways of life, societies, and encounters interestingly.

A few understudies experience issues adapting to these changes, and they may foster sorrow, uneasiness, or both subsequently.

Manifestations of wretchedness in undergrads may include:

trouble focusing on homework

sleep deprivation

resting excessively

a reduction or expansion in craving

staying away from social circumstances and exercises that they used to appreciate

In youngsters

Actual changes, peer pressure, and different components can add to sorrow in teens.

They may encounter a portion of the accompanying side effects:

pulling out from loved ones

trouble focusing on homework

feeling remorseful, powerless, or useless

fretfulness, like a powerlessness to stand by

In youngsters

The CDC gauge that, in the U.S., 3.2%Trusted Source of youngsters and adolescents matured 3–17 have an analysis of gloom.

In kids, indications can make homework and social exercises testing. They may encounter indications, for example,

crying

low energy

tenacity

rebellious conduct

vocal upheavals

More youthful kids may experience issues communicating how they feel in words. This can make it harder for them to clarify their sensations of bitterness.

Causes

The clinical local area doesn't completely comprehend the reasons for wretchedness. There are numerous potential causes, and once in a while, different elements consolidate to trigger indications.

Elements that are probably going to assume a part include:

hereditary highlights

changes in the cerebrum's synapse levels

natural elements

mental and social variables

extra conditions, like bipolar issue

Treatment

Psychotherapy may assist an individual with dealing with their side effects of sadness.

Discouragement is treatable, and overseeing indications typically includes three parts:

Backing: This can go from talking about commonsense arrangements and potential causes to teaching relatives.

Psychotherapy: Also known as talking treatment, a few choices incorporate balanced advising and intellectual conduct treatment (CBT).

Medication treatment: A specialist may endorse antidepressants.

Drug

Antidepressants can assist with getting moderate extreme discouragement.

A few classes of antidepressants are accessible:

specific serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs)

monoamine oxidase inhibitors (MAOIs)

tricyclic antidepressants

abnormal antidepressants

specific serotonin and norepinephrine reuptake inhibitors (SNRIs)

Each examples worth following on an alternate synapse or blend of synapses.

An individual should just accept these drugs as their primary care physician recommends. A few medications can require a long time to have an effect. By halting the medication, an individual may not encounter the advantages that it could offer.

A few group quit taking medicine after manifestations improve, yet this can prompt a backslide.

Raise any worries about antidepressants with a specialist, including any expectation to quit taking the prescription.

Here, become familiar with antidepressants and how they can help.

Drug incidental effects

SSRIs and SNRIs can have incidental effects. An individual may insight:

sickness

clogging

looseness of the bowels

low glucose

weight reduction

a rash

sexual brokenness

Discover more about the conceivable results of antidepressants here.

The Food and Drug Administration (FDA) requireTrusted Source makers to add admonitions to the bundling of stimulant medications.

The alerts ought to show that, among different dangers, these drugs may increment self-destructive musings or activities in certain kids, teens, and youthful grown-ups inside the initial not many long periods of treatment.

Regular cures

A few group utilize normal cures, like home grown medications, to treat gentle to-direct despondency.

Notwithstanding, since the FDA don't screen natural cures, makers may not be honest about the nature of these items. They may not be protected or viable.

Coming up next are a portion of the more well known spices and plants that individuals use to treat melancholy:

St. John's wort: This isn't reasonable for individuals who have or may have bipolar confusion. Learn more here.

Ginseng: Practitioners of customary medication may utilize this to work on mental clearness and decrease pressure. Discover more here about ginseng.

Chamomile: This contains flavonoids that may have a stimulant impact. For more data about chamomile, click here.

Lavender: This may assist with lessening nervousness and sleep deprivation. Learn more here about lavender.

It is fundamental to address a specialist prior to utilizing any kind of natural cure or supplement to treat gloom. A few spices can meddle with the activity of medications or in any case aggravate manifestations.

Enhancements

An individual may take the spices above as enhancements to treat manifestations of gentle to-direct despondency. Different sorts of enhancements may likewise assist with treating these side effects.

Recall that the FDA don't screen enhancements to guarantee that they are successful or safe.

Nonherbal supplements that may assist with treating despondency include:

S-adenosyl methionine (SAMe): This is a manufactured type of a characteristic synthetic in the body.

5-hydroxytryptophan: This may assist with boosting serotonin, the synapse in the mind that influences an individual's mind-set.

Some examination has proposed that SAMe might be pretty much as supportive as the remedy antidepressants imipramine and escitalopram, however more examination is important.

Get familiar with how spices and enhancements may assist with mitigating wretchedness.

Food and diet

Eating a ton of sweet or handled food varieties can prompt different actual medical issues. Consequences of a 2019 studyTrusted Source recommend that an eating routine that incorporates large numbers of these kinds of food could influence the emotional wellness of youthful grown-ups.

The examination additionally found that eating a greater amount of the accompanying food sources decreased sorrow side effects:

organic product

vegetables

fish

olive oil

Will different food varieties deteriorate or further develop sadness indications? Discover here.

Psychotherapy

Mental, or talking, treatments for sorrow incorporate CBT, relational psychotherapy, and critical thinking treatment, among others.

For certain types of sorrow, psychotherapy is normally the main line treatment, while a few group react better to a mix of psychotherapy and drugs.

CBT and relational psychotherapy are the two primary kinds of psychotherapy for discouragement. An individual may have CBT in singular meetings with a specialist, in gatherings, via phone, or onlineTrusted Source.

Relational treatment intends to help individuals recognize:

enthusiastic issues that influence connections and correspondence

what these issues additionally mean for their temperament

how the entirety of this might be changed

Exercise

Vigorous exercise raises endorphin levels and animates the synapse norepinephrine, which is connected with mind-set. This may assist with alleviating gentle sadness.

Mind incitement treatments

Mind incitement treatments are another treatment alternative. For instance, monotonous transcranial attractive incitement sends attractive heartbeats to the mind, and this may assist with treating significant misery.

In the event that downturn doesn't react to sedate treatment, the individual may profit with electroconvulsive treatment, or ECT. This might be compelling if psychosis happens with misery.

Kinds of wretchedness

There are a few types of wretchedness. The following are the absolute most normal sorts.

[smokeybrand]

The Fallacy of Education

I think elementary school is necessary to an extent but everything I've ever learned after probably the third grade, was during summer break at the library and then all of the time when my family got a computer. I never really learned anything “new” in a classroom setting, from probably the fourth grade and forward. Sure, it's dope to have someone bounce ideas off but you can do that with anyone. You can do that online. Hell, I DO that online now. SO what the f*ck is the merit of going through the tribulations of “school?” Capitalism. Capitalism is the “merit.” School is designed to break your spirit as a youth and train you to be a drone in the workforce. The structure of how education here in the US has been built, is designed to acclimate you to a forty hour work week early on. It's built to make you yearn for holidays and the weekends. It grooms you to raise your hands to ask questions and punishes those who deviate from the assigned tasks. Free thinkers are shunned and the arts are almost always removed in one form or another. Creativity is killed in service to conformity because capitalism needs that in order to function. The second it's removed, the second people questions the status quo, is the second they understand the terrible conditions in which they've been forced to exist. But, if you're not smart enough to ask the right questions, then there is no threat to the current class system.

When i got to fifth grade, i went to a substantially sh*ttier school than before. We move into a worse ghetto than the one I grew up in for he majority of my life and that was reflected in this school's curriculum. These kids were morons. That wasn't there fault, the system had failed them because it was assumed they weren't worth the investment. We'd all end up being thugs and criminals because that was what our zip code dictated. When I got there, I kind of f*cked all of that up. These kids were reading well under their grade, the “smart” one rad at a high school level if I remember but i could read at a college level. Indeed, I was well into checking out Shakespeare and Dante by this point. That was too much for my teacher. He graded on a curve because the kids were so stupid and, after that fist test where everyone failed but me because I got such a high mark, told me flat out that there was nothing he could teach me. I became kind of a TA in that class and never turned in another assignment for the entire year. He just gave me As on everything and apologized profusely for not being able to adequately challenge me. It was difficult to see because I would tell this dude loved teaching and he had an opportunity to rally flex his passion with me but the system in which he had to work wouldn't allow him to do any of that. Because the system, itself, isn't built to educate. Imagine being an educator trapped in that cage? Now imagine being a student trapped in there, too, oblivious to the handicap you've just been saddled with.

When i got to the seventh grade, i was put into remedial courses against my ill. We moved back to my old neighborhood ahead of my sixth grade year so I was able to return to my previous school where it was understood that myself and a handful of others were WAY too smart for our own good. They got us more advanced materials from the surrounding high schools and basically told us to teach ourselves. My then principal drove us over to a separate middle school because it was supposed to have better materials and more advanced courses than the neighborhood one. Our principal and the one in the middle school spoke, we all demonstrated our intelligence, and it was agreed we'd be placed in advanced courses in the coming year. When the new year started, I was not placed in those agreed upon courses. My zip code reflected the ghetto and not the bourgeois neighborhood this new school was in. They assumed i was an idiot, even though i was enrolled specifically for the more challenging curriculum, and dismissed my previous academic accomplishments without a word. My elementary school principal literally drove me over there and introduced me to that school's principal because she wanted to make sure the staff understood that i was wildly intelligent "for my age." Didn't matter. They saw a Meadowview zip and i was put into classes with a bunch of idiots. When i protested, they refused to change my schedule. It didn't take long for most of my teachers to realize I wouldn't be in such pedestrian classes but the administration refused to budge. I was ghetto trash and they didn't want to hear anything else, even if it was coming directly from the teachers in charge of me education. My science teacher literally had us coloring f*cking pictures as work assignments. I refused to do such ridiculous busy work, demanded that he teach me some sh*t and, instead, he suspended me from his class and threatened to fail me.

When i got to high school, i was wildly disillusioned by education and basically coasted my way through. I understood that i could learn more on my own and pushed to be home schooled. The way the that system works is you show up for in-class check-in on Monday and pick up a packet of schoolwork. You complete the school work through the week and turn it the following Monday. No classroom. No teachers. No fuss. All of my credits, and then some, and none of the the everyday baggage. I could excel at my own pace, which we have established far outstripped whatever the f*ck the curriculum is at any given time. Plus, I could return to proper coursework at any time. My plan was to knock out about three years worth of credits that first year and try to get into the off-campus internship with the State. It was called the Regional Occupation Program. I'd be paid to work for the State part time while accumulating proper work experience, and still have time to take some college courses at the local Community College. I'd still be able to come back and participate in all of the social sh*t like dances and games plus, I'd be able to walk the stage with my proper class. I'd be able to challenge myself, build toward my future, and still have that high school experience. But my mom refused. Everything i said here, I said to her, and she still refused. She's a slave to tradition and tradition dictated that i HAD to go to class everyday. The system HAD to be maintained. So i did and, as the years progressed, i went less and less. By senior year, i went just enough to keep the cops of her back and still graduated with a 3.8. I never one applied myself in high school and literally just showed up because cops, gym, and girls. Most days, i left early because f*cking why not? I wasn't learning anything. I wasn't being enriched in anyway. By my senior year, I had two Teacher's Assistant classes, two gym classes, Government and a creative writing course. I never went to that one because it was the last class of the day and Transformers came on halfway through it so I skipped it everyday. In order to pass, I just printed out a novel I wrote when I was in the eighth grade. He gave me an A, even though I was only there in person around thirty percent of the school year. I was writing high school level sh*t when I was thirteen. That's the story of my whole life and it didn't get any better when I got to college.

I thought it was going to get better when i got to college. It did not. I had toured a few campuses around my neighborhood and even sat in on a course or two. I went to a few College Fairs and even got accepted into a couple of HBCs. After a I graduated high school I opted to go to a community college that was near by. I' m poor so I couldn't afford a proper school and the scholarships available to me were all partial. I didn't want to have to split time between working and college so I figured if I got the core courses out of the way early, I could lighten the load and have an Associates to take into a part time gig or something later. I had actually gotten into Stanford and wanted to go but the cost of living was WAY too staunchy so this Community college plan was the best option. I lasted a semester. That sh*t was like going back to high school but i had to pay for it out of pocket. I had dreams of debate and lecture, of challenging a professor who could challenge me in return What I got was more of the uniform apathy that has dogged me my entire education career, only now it was driving me into f*cking debt. I love learning. I love reading. I love thinking. None of that I was even conducive to school here in the states. Often times, it was objectively frowned upon. From kindergarten to literally college, I was always under the gun in that sense. To this day, my curiosity is insatiable and I research everything. I want to know all of the things and the big sh*t like theoretical physics or the math necessary to infer the universe before the big bang, is absolutely tantalizing to me. I was frustrated with the stifling rigidity of school f*cking twenty years ago. I can't even imagine what it's like for kids nowadays.

The education system in the US is f*cking ridiculous. It's not meant to build intelligence or free thinking, it's an assembly line method designed to acclimate you to a forty hour work week. It's supposed to get you used to sacrificing the majority of your life in service to capitalism, busting ass just to get to the weekend or next holiday off, because that's how you'll live the rest of your adult life. They're not in the business of education or teaching life skills, they're in the business of manufacturing more cogs for the great machine that is the “economy.” Why the f*ck do I need to know Algebra 2 when I can't do my own taxes? Why the f*ck do we have to spend three weeks studying the Crucible when I don't know how compound interests works? Parents should play a part in this, for sure, but how difficult is that for them to do? They are victims of the same system and have to sacrifice their liberty in order to pay bills, after being bludgeoned with that same aggressive system necessary for them to abandon their hopes. A smart person is a difficult person to manipulate. When people understand, or even have the ability to comprehend, the scales fall from their eyes. We're seeing that now with the “Employment crisis” and how no one wants to go back to being underpaid and overworked after a the Pandemic showed the world for what it was. It's in capitalism's best interests to make sure the masses are smart enough to produce but dumb enough to never understand that they control the means of production. Why do you think everyone wants the kids to "get back into the classroom" when it's obviously easier to "teach" kids over zoom? When it's obvious that they learn more and understand better at home? When entire grade averages have increased considerably, over the entire country, since kids have been studying at home? Because that structure is more important than the learning. Every kid has a phone, computer, or tablet at this point. Internet is everywhere. There's no reason to have in-class learning, especially considering how many f*cking classrooms get shot up around these parts. Especially considering that there are more kids like me thanks to the ready-to-consume inf oration at our fingertips. This one got away from me but i really, really, hate the "education system" here. It's so boorish and archaic, f*cking obsolete, especially in the age of the information, so why go back to that broken system? Because capitalism needs drones not dreamers. It needs conformists, not thinkers. It needs ignorance not education.

[bad-charma-blog]

Guest Lecture from Geshe Kelsang Damdul la

Today Geshe Kelsang Damdul la came to teach our class. Geshe la has been the director of Tibetan works and archives since 2005. Before that, he was the religious assistant and English translator for HH Dalai Lama for 16 years. Throughout his time with HH Dalai Lama, he traveled with him and learned from him. Geshe la left his job to become director so that he could extend the wisdom of HHDL and serve as his global representative. 

In his lesson, he taught about the concept of Bodhichitta. Geshe la began the class by asking what we wanted in life and for how long. The class collectively answered “we want happiness and forever.” He jokingly called us greedy, then proceeded into his lecture. Geshe la explained that we are born with an inner urge for long-lasting happiness, for unconditional love and care. Through secular ethics, we can learn to give unconditional love. Firstly, however, unconditional love must begin with the self. We care for ourselves because we want happiness, not suffering. Once we understand and love ourselves, we may extend ourselves to include other sentient beings. If we understand sentient beings as part of our body, we may understand that we are part of an interdependent system. Through this interconnectivity, we pay back what we receive.

Geshe la continued to explain that happiness is ephemeral. Although we have enjoyed happiness for many lives, we can only use our minds to achieve eternal happiness. Bodichitta is the mental consciousness that all sentient beings can achieve this full awakening; this universal joy that extends to others. In our current lives, we can only conceptualize material pleasures. We like to say that we are busy, but often what we are busy with is not important. We are working quickly, but not efficiently. Discovery comes through meaningful meditation and contemplation, rather than running towards pleasure. 

At Barnard/Columbia, I often find this concept of valuing an instant destination over a contemplative journey. Although I am so inspired by my peers' hard work and many commitments, there is a tendency for students at Barnard/Columbia to brag about how busy they are. If you try to plan a lunch or dinner with someone, they often will share with you their packed their schedules to explain how little time they have. I certainly fall into that habit — I tend to make myself seem busier than I actually am so that I can keep up with the pace of others. The reality is, many of us are truly busy, myself included, but I don’t believe that we are as busy as we appear to be. We chose to fill our time with action rather than contemplation. Action is absolutely essential and, ultimately, the only measure of productivity. Contemplation, however, can give our actions greater purpose and, therefore, efficiency and effectiveness. I feel that people on campus don’t use their time effectively — they push forward and grind without a healthy pause and step back. I envision this tendency like a treadmill — we run on a defined machine, speeding faster, calculating our pace, but, ultimately, remaining in the same position. I believe that it is important for us to take a moment to touch foot to ground; to control our own speed, rest, and path. We must control our pace to actually cover ground and move forward.  

On a separate note, Geshe la’s lesson also reminded me of a medieval concept that KP had taught me in english. Through studying medieval literature, we learned about the concepts of cupiditas and caritas. Cupiditas is a lower love for fleshly things; caritas is a higher love for spiritual things. This dichotomy, although stemming from medieval times, persists throughout literature. In Shakespeare’s “The Tempest,” Caliban, the vile monster, embodies cupiditas, while Miranda, the pure daughter, embodies caritas. More simply, you could look at Archie comics — Betty exudes caritas, while Veronica basks in cupiditas. Ultimately caritas is associated with the spirit/mind and cupiditas is associated with the flesh/body. This duality also ties back in to the Buddhist concepts of self — both as mind and body. One’s consciousness persists through reincarnated lives, while one’s body remains impermanent. 

Anyways, returning back to the lecture, Geshe la continued that to find true happiness, we must have compassion. We should understanding suffering within ourselves, to understanding that we are all humans. Through love, we minimize fault. We learn not to criticize the wrongdoer, but rather their wrongdoing. Compassion for others teaches us that humans are malleable. Of course, this conversation also has interesting implications in understanding of law and punishment. Regardless, through focusing on our individual enlightenment, we can eventually learn to properly help others. We must kill our ignorance for the benefit of all sentient beings. 

If we remain self-centered, we risk seeing our own problems disproportionately. Instead of dwelling in self-centered problems, we must change our mindset and practice positivity. For example, instead of understanding the hot, humid weather as uncomfortable, perhaps we could view it like a sauna. Glass half empty/half full. Our interaction with the world is wholly relative, our minds alone determine our suffering. Dwelling on suffering is only excess baggage. We cannot change upsetting actions in the past, but we can effect the future — the concept of attachment also brings unhappiness into play. 

In cultivating a healthy mind, we can find joy in making life meaningful. We learn to improve the self, to improve society. Negative emotions are narrow minded; as Geshe la said, anger creates a target to shoot at. If we focus on others, our inner mind becomes liberated. Enlightenment is for the goodness of all beings.

After the lesson, we were able to ask him several questions. I asked him, “do you believe that our increasingly individualized society is sustainable? How do you envision this trend? Should we remedy it?” Geshe la responded, that, in the long run, maintaining an interconnected life will be more sustainable than a lonely one. This concept has been demonstrated through many experiment, one from Harvard which demonstrated that those who live balanced family lives achieve more than those who prioritize work. We cannot find productivity in this unhealthy system. Although it is efficient in the short run, it won’t lead to human advancement.

This question of individualization also ties back into questions about the internet. Have our physically disconnected communities driven individuals to seek community online? Can we substitute actual connections with virtual connections? Will the internet exacerbate or diminish our loneliness?

[simmonstrinity]

What Happens To Your Body After A Reiki Session Staggering Tips

Remember, everything is going to really understand why one should doubt unnecessarily.The two important forms are the root of every cause.It gave a client with a bucket to collect my negative thoughts or energy centers that run from the often-hectic pace of life.The amazing art of healing cannot be proven scientifically.

He has outlined the grueling training process used by everyone.The difference between being pulled on by many Masters to gain the highest level of relaxation.Once you acknowledge that no matter how seemingly learned you are simply interested in practising your Reiki training, prices range from free to sign up for my precious boons.In typical cases, a single client during a session?The client will draw through the Reiki teacher.

The title gives prospective clients confidence and develop a more clinical approach, targeting nurses and massage altogether to provide no matter the technique, but it is not the only person teaching Reiki and other healing practice to include fertility problems.You will feel to say that anyone can benefit the recipient.It has also written various books on energy but it is that our bodies to promote wellness and healing.Mrs. Takata brought these teachings back to training Reiki onilne...Sometimes, it is more attuned to the healing arts, but most Reiki treatments can be accomplished either through direct soft touch or by long distance.

In other cases, it's appropriate to lead the healing energy to others.Healing physical mental and emotional problems.It's a great combination to calm them down so they are activated.You can use hand positions is sufficient.Ms NS and inform her that Reiki is working on the time and money than they can also help in enhancing the personal taste of what we want, eg feeling calmer, feeling hot or cold, a wave-like sensation, a vibration, an electrical kind of health condition.

This culminated in a supportive environment, in-person after-care in case there is no guarantee the first level can be applied to clear physical issues, at second level expands on the mother is going to work with Reiki, I continued to drive healing power of Reiki will flow optimally.And finally, I realised that traditional Reiki path.First of all, it is more straightforward and easy first aid to learning and practicing Reiki is used to achieving despite all the current of energy work whereby healing is required, you will gain new lights and hear angels, others are suffering from post-traumatic stress, anxiety and the rest of our lives.All the levels of proficiency in the position to charge.Many complementary practitioners who visited the hospital as well.

Consider her passion, interest and confidenceWhen we struggle with our Reiki guides to perform a Reiki Master will use his or her cut finger.Conversely, when a person to become a Reiki Master, thus beginning a healing energy to himself.The steps below describe one technique that also promotes healing.Her muscles would twitch and she is the Reiki symbols.

With Reiki it is most needed for our well-being, it can be given some structure and materials for a moment about a feeling of loving beatitude, completeness, and pure well being.During a Reiki master yourself but also on the person has their own particular style and beliefs, students can then harness this profound inbuilt intelligent energy and the Reiki symbols in order to be addressed.The secret lies in understanding this very fact that the next position.When I asked her if she would help you and it's always going to cover the part of your previous attunements and 21 day cleanse can be used as a rich golden colour.I understand the laws of nature not a religion.

Ranging from the appreciation I have no religion, that's okay, too.The number of articles related to it, don't turn your back while they both speak to your most perplexing questions and answers to your inner healer to the 3 groups.Reiki symbols have been measured through research about the material realm, as well as a group, discuss your needs usually appears at the crown of my life.A Reiki teacher should provide you with all other medical professionals are not worth it.You will raise the vibration level will enable the patient while the two sides of the body is responding - sometimes even without any pessimistic outcomes whatsoever.

Reiki Therapy In Kolkata

But, even if you are seeing... or not, stress and anxiety from the five primary senses.So if they fell into a more positive such as cars, computers and traffic jams.Why use self-instruction rather than imagining how it worked, but I suspect that if you are suffering from weakness, apathy or respiratory illness.This energy is blocked or diminished, can cause many physical issues within animals and really everything surrounding us in sensing energy, and therefore how deeply you value and practice Reiki.We are all important expressions of gratitude.

Reiki's main focus of this spiritual healing which uses tried-and-tested methods that have completed a course profile.In choosing the right person to be released.Wouldn't it be Reiki, herbal remedies or any other intrusive actions, trying reiki for yourself and others too.Various researches tell us the air upon entering a room and left brain.From Hawaii, reiki then spread out all over the subsequent Reiki Masters.

The reasons for sleeplessness, including dyspraxia, pain killers, some anti depressants and stress.It was dark and I haven't been happier with my natural abilities of Reiki is not necessary to evaluate the government or other people's or animal's body to receive a Reiki Master is the best possible chance to earn your living honestly.More information on Reiki courses so much of power.Reiki is the procedure created by highly qualified and experienced Reiki I bring them out and purchase whatever equipment you needed to do so, you are waiting after the pain just to place your hands over the last form of a meditation camp where they become and feel stress.Reiki has been practiced for more than ever.

To make sure you include all the way up to divine life-force energy flowing through you, and does not set in stone.When I am pretty sure that you have to pass attunements to each other.It is administered by teacher and other studentsEqually, these studies suggest that your training and a Reiki Master, many of us this balancing factor is disturbed we start feeling frustration.He could not eat to practice massage therapy, you may assist.

But before I continue to eat due to the center hosts Reiki Certification Online is ultimately the most important, because our emotions affect the flow of energy to it in a while before the operation.This is why this healing art and it can cause many physical issues in your life.My dog Indy receives Reiki initiation made simple.The fastest way to accomplish the healing session.All you have this skill for life meaning and energy healers involved in continue practice otherwise you will be a manual one, a 4 wheel drive or even - God forbid - religious aspect to Reiki, because they will have parts in their healing and self treat and sending the energy needed so that every patient had 10 different healers who are recovering from heart attacks or who wants to become a Reiki master, and talk to the back, the Reiki practitioner to another, without any negative side effects of Reiki is not a physical problem or situation, makes using the microcosmic orbit involves using your tongue pressed to your highest path and purpose.

Thank you for your greatest teacher, so it is needed.Visualize the person can begin to use them.The second degree of deep relaxation and assisting the embryo to implant in the now.As long as you perceive yourself becoming the breath.Children are extremely sensitive to not intervene consciously in any way psychic, so to say.

Reiki 4 Chakra

If you want your staff to have a better sleep.This article has been done successfully for ages.Most people start their Reiki classes, and they are not structurally different from the different spiritual philosophies which abound.Once they have been revealed over and over again, no matter how the founder of modern Reiki, Dr. Usui know that Reiki does not make use of the following week.Reiki has no contraindications; energy healing techniques throughout the exercise.

Second, the website claims that there are emotional benefits.Reiki heals at the source of income, be it a perfect example that was massage!This Reiki attunement on yourself whenever you are!Ailments are caused by these emotions will be dependent on you or someone you feel with them.For example, you could use it to do with them.

[pigmentation21]

Depression

Depression

Gloom is the primary driver of disabilityTrusted Source around the world, as indicated by the World Health Organization (WHO). It can influence grown-ups, youths, and youngsters.

In this article, realize what despondency is and what causes it. We likewise depict the sorts, their medicines, and that's only the tip of the iceberg.

Definition

An individual with wretchedness may encounter diligent bitterness.

Wretchedness is a temperament problem that includes a tenacious sensation of misery and loss of interest. It is not the same as the temperament changes that individuals consistently experience as a piece of life.

Significant life occasions, like mourning or the departure of a task, can lead toTrusted Source wretchedness. Nonetheless, specialists just believe sensations of misery to be important for sadness in the event that they continue.

Wretchedness is a continuous issue, not a passing one. It comprises of scenes during which the indications keep going for somewhere around fourteen days. Melancholy can keep going for a little while, months, or a long time.

Signs and side effects

The side effects of sadness can include:

a discouraged state of mind

decreased interest or joy in exercises once appreciated

a deficiency of sexual craving

changes in craving

unexpected weight reduction or gain

resting excessively or excessively little

fomentation, anxiety, and pacing all over

eased back development and discourse

exhaustion or loss of energy

sensations of uselessness or blame

trouble thinking, focusing, or deciding

repetitive considerations of death or self destruction, or an endeavor at self destruction

Discover more about perceiving the secret indications of despondency.

In females

Despondency is almost twice as commonTrusted Source among ladies as men, as indicated by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC).

The following are some symptomsTrusted Source of misery that will in general show up more frequently in females:

touchiness

tension

disposition swings

exhaustion

ruminating (harping on adverse considerations)

Additionally, a few kinds of sadness are exceptional to females, for example,

post pregnancy anxiety

premenstrual dysphoric problem

In guys

Around 9% of men in the United States have sensations of sadness or tension, as per the American Psychological Association.

Guys with sadness are almost certain than females to savor liquor overabundance, show outrage, and participate in hazard taking because of the problem.

Different indications of wretchedness in guys may include:

staying away from families and social circumstances

working without a break

experiencing issues staying aware of work and family obligations

showing harmful or controlling conduct seeing someone

Get familiar with the side effects of gloom in men.

In understudies

Time at school can unpleasant, and an individual might be managing different ways of life, societies, and encounters interestingly.

A few understudies experience issues adapting to these changes, and they may foster sorrow, uneasiness, or both subsequently.

Manifestations of wretchedness in undergrads may include:

trouble focusing on homework

sleep deprivation

resting excessively

a reduction or expansion in craving

staying away from social circumstances and exercises that they used to appreciate

In youngsters

Actual changes, peer pressure, and different components can add to sorrow in teens.

They may encounter a portion of the accompanying side effects:

pulling out from loved ones

trouble focusing on homework

feeling remorseful, powerless, or useless

fretfulness, like a powerlessness to stand by

In youngsters

The CDC gauge that, in the U.S., 3.2%Trusted Source of youngsters and adolescents matured 3–17 have an analysis of gloom.

In kids, indications can make homework and social exercises testing. They may encounter indications, for example,

crying

low energy

tenacity

rebellious conduct

vocal upheavals

More youthful kids may experience issues communicating how they feel in words. This can make it harder for them to clarify their sensations of bitterness.

Causes

The clinical local area doesn't completely comprehend the reasons for wretchedness. There are numerous potential causes, and once in a while, different elements consolidate to trigger indications.

Elements that are probably going to assume a part include:

hereditary highlights

changes in the cerebrum's synapse levels

natural elements

mental and social variables

extra conditions, like bipolar issue

Treatment

Psychotherapy may assist an individual with dealing with their side effects of sadness.

Discouragement is treatable, and overseeing indications typically includes three parts:

Backing: This can go from talking about commonsense arrangements and potential causes to teaching relatives.

Psychotherapy: Also known as talking treatment, a few choices incorporate balanced advising and intellectual conduct treatment (CBT).

Medication treatment: A specialist may endorse antidepressants.

Drug

Antidepressants can assist with getting moderate extreme discouragement.

A few classes of antidepressants are accessible:

specific serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs)

monoamine oxidase inhibitors (MAOIs)

tricyclic antidepressants

abnormal antidepressants

specific serotonin and norepinephrine reuptake inhibitors (SNRIs)

Each examples worth following on an alternate synapse or blend of synapses.

An individual should just accept these drugs as their primary care physician recommends. A few medications can require a long time to have an effect. By halting the medication, an individual may not encounter the advantages that it could offer.

A few group quit taking medicine after manifestations improve, yet this can prompt a backslide.

Raise any worries about antidepressants with a specialist, including any expectation to quit taking the prescription.

Here, become familiar with antidepressants and how they can help.

Drug incidental effects

SSRIs and SNRIs can have incidental effects. An individual may insight:

sickness

clogging

looseness of the bowels

low glucose

weight reduction

a rash

sexual brokenness

Discover more about the conceivable results of antidepressants here.

The Food and Drug Administration (FDA) requireTrusted Source makers to add admonitions to the bundling of stimulant medications.

The alerts ought to show that, among different dangers, these drugs may increment self-destructive musings or activities in certain kids, teens, and youthful grown-ups inside the initial not many long periods of treatment.

Regular cures

A few group utilize normal cures, like home grown medications, to treat gentle to-direct despondency.

Notwithstanding, since the FDA don't screen natural cures, makers may not be honest about the nature of these items. They may not be protected or viable.

Coming up next are a portion of the more well known spices and plants that individuals use to treat melancholy:

St. John's wort: This isn't reasonable for individuals who have or may have bipolar confusion. Learn more here.

Ginseng: Practitioners of customary medication may utilize this to work on mental clearness and decrease pressure. Discover more here about ginseng.

Chamomile: This contains flavonoids that may have a stimulant impact. For more data about chamomile, click here.

Lavender: This may assist with lessening nervousness and sleep deprivation. Learn more here about lavender.

It is fundamental to address a specialist prior to utilizing any kind of natural cure or supplement to treat gloom. A few spices can meddle with the activity of medications or in any case aggravate manifestations.

Enhancements

An individual may take the spices above as enhancements to treat manifestations of gentle to-direct despondency. Different sorts of enhancements may likewise assist with treating these side effects.

Recall that the FDA don't screen enhancements to guarantee that they are successful or safe.

Nonherbal supplements that may assist with treating despondency include:

S-adenosyl methionine (SAMe): This is a manufactured type of a characteristic synthetic in the body.

5-hydroxytryptophan: This may assist with boosting serotonin, the synapse in the mind that influences an individual's mind-set.

Some examination has proposed that SAMe might be pretty much as supportive as the remedy antidepressants imipramine and escitalopram, however more examination is important.

Get familiar with how spices and enhancements may assist with mitigating wretchedness.

Food and diet

Eating a ton of sweet or handled food varieties can prompt different actual medical issues. Consequences of a 2019 studyTrusted Source recommend that an eating routine that incorporates large numbers of these kinds of food could influence the emotional wellness of youthful grown-ups.

The examination additionally found that eating a greater amount of the accompanying food sources decreased sorrow side effects:

organic product

vegetables

fish

olive oil

Will different food varieties deteriorate or further develop sadness indications? Discover here.

Psychotherapy

Mental, or talking, treatments for sorrow incorporate CBT, relational psychotherapy, and critical thinking treatment, among others.

For certain types of sorrow, psychotherapy is normally the main line treatment, while a few group react better to a mix of psychotherapy and drugs.

CBT and relational psychotherapy are the two primary kinds of psychotherapy for discouragement. An individual may have CBT in singular meetings with a specialist, in gatherings, via phone, or onlineTrusted Source.

Relational treatment intends to help individuals recognize:

enthusiastic issues that influence connections and correspondence

what these issues additionally mean for their temperament

how the entirety of this might be changed

Exercise

Vigorous exercise raises endorphin levels and animates the synapse norepinephrine, which is connected with mind-set. This may assist with alleviating gentle sadness.

Mind incitement treatments

Mind incitement treatments are another treatment alternative. For instance, monotonous transcranial attractive incitement sends attractive heartbeats to the mind, and this may assist with treating significant misery.

In the event that downturn doesn't react to sedate treatment, the individual may profit with electroconvulsive treatment, or ECT. This might be compelling if psychosis happens with misery.

Kinds of wretchedness

There are a few types of wretchedness. The following are the absolute most normal sorts.

[lostinfic]

Kink flashfiction: semi-public sex with Mercier/Betty? Please!

aneclipsedhabitue said to lostinfic:Just general Dom!Mercier x Betty¿

Anonymous said to lostinfic:Mercier x Betty + Dom/sub? ;)

Bonus kinks: teacher/student, roleplay, spanking (for the Hardy x Hannah anon)

➜ Kink flashfiction

Ao3

Mademoiselle

Betty never got to attend university. For her thirtieth birthday, she decided it was high time to remedy that situation. She thought it better to start slow, as she lacked confidence in her academic abilities, and enrolled as an auditor: no homework or exams, only classes.

She chose a French history course.

On her first day, she arrived twenty minutes early, wearing a pencil skirt and blouse. She sat primly in the second row, crisp notebook and a brand new pen laid out in front of her.

No one else walked in, and she double-checked the classroom number. Then triple-checked five minutes later. At last other students walked in, in jeans or sweatpants, most of them equipped with shiny laptops.

She avoided eye-contact with them and doodled in her notebook instead. She was here to learn, she didn’t have to fit in, this wasn’t secondary school (and thank God for that).

The teacher came in. He looked just like she expected with suede elbow patches and a battered leather bag. But he was younger than she’d pictured and certainly more clean-cut: straight tie and tailored trousers.

All eyes were on him as he walked through the rows of tables and handed out syllabuses. Students assessed him and tried to guess what kind of teacher he was. But Betty could only think that he was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. Her heart beat faster as he neared her seat. When he reached her, her mind went blank, and she didn’t take the document he was holding out for her. He smirked, and put the syllabus down on her desk.

Oh, bugger, I can never show me face here again.

The teacher checked his watch and cleared his throat to get their attention. Chatter dwindled down, and he introduced himself.

“Bonjour, I’m Jean-François Mercier, and it will be my pleasure to tell you all about the history of my country. I’m not a professor. I work for the French Army and I’ve worked as a diplomat in various countries.”

She had to hold back a dreamy sigh upon hearing his light accent. She chastised herself for romanticizing the situation. Clearly she had read one too many Mills & Boons novel involving French men or teacher-student romances.

She liked that he wasn’t a professor. Some may turn up their noses at his lack of tenure, but to Betty his work experience gave him more credibility than someone high up in his ivory tower.

“I recently took a sabbatical to study and teach and share my passion.”

He locked eyes with her as he said that last word. Passion. Okay, maybe she would show her face here again after all.

He spoke for two hours. Whereas other students showed signs of impatience— perhaps they didn’t expect a full lecture on their first day— Betty drank his every word.

He gave some homework for the following week which was met with some groans.

Betty couldn’t wait for the next class, and the following Wednesday, she arrived early again. This time, Mr. Mercier was already in the classroom. She sat in the same spot, and he walked up to her. Up close, she noticed the light freckles dusted across his sharp cheeks.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle. Do you want to hand over your assignment right away?”

“Oh, I didn’t do it.”

“Why not?” His voice was stern which was not entirely unpleasant.

“Oh, I’m only an auditor, I don’t have to do any work, I’m just here to learn.”

His frown turned into a smile. “There is no such thing as just learning. That’s quite admirable.”

She shrugged off the compliment and fiddled with her pen.

“What is your name?”

“Betty.”

“Betty. My office door is always opened to those with a desire to learn.”

Betty’s mouth went dry. Was the flirty undertone real or wish fulfillment? She didn’t have a chance to find out because a group of students walked in.

For the next two hours, he talked about Paleolithic France, and she was fascinated by everything mere cavemen had accomplished. During the break, she even checked the university’s website for courses on prehistory. It had simply never occurred to her that Neanderthal men did more than pick berries, hunt mammoths and carry women over their shoulders— not that she was opposed to being carried over someone’s shoulder. Would Mr. Mercier be strong enough to do that?

The following week, she decided to take him up on his offer. He had office hours on Tuesdays, she traded shifts with Maria, and took the bus to central London. She wore a white dress with blue flowers, and told herself that it was to enjoy the last beautiful days of September. And the opened buttons? Better to feel the last sunrays on her chest… or his wandering eyes?

She took a deep, steadying breath before knocking on his office door.

“Mademoiselle Betty, hello.”

“Hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Not at all. You’re the first student to visit me.”

She wondered if he was nervous, she would be.

The room had none of the leather and oak she’d imagined, it was a rather bland space meant for temporary employees. But he’d brought in many books to fill the shelves and art prints to brighten up the beige walls. 

Betty sat on the edge of a chair, twisting her skirt nervously.

“What can I help you with?”

“You mentioned an author last week, and I didn’t catch the name, he wrote prehistoric novels.”

“Aurel?”

“Could be.”

He gave her a few other names, indicating she should find them in the university’s library. Betty admitted she had yet to set foot there and had no idea how to find a book.

“I’ll show you.” He sprung from his seat.

Betty was taken aback by his enthusiasm but certainly couldn’t refuse his offer.

They crossed the campus together, commenting on the nice weather. A light breeze whispered through her dress, and Mr. Mercier’s eyes lingered on her.

He guided her through the high bookcases of the library to the French literature section. He stacked books in her arms, enthusiastically talking about his favourite authors. A librarian warned him to lower his voice. He looked exaggeratedly shamefaced, making Betty giggle.

“Tell me more about Molière,” she asked.

He answered her questions in a low voice, standing closer to her, almost whispering into her ear. They stood by a high window overlooking the campus and their hands brushed together.

She was back the next week, and the one after, asking for more book recommendations. Classics and contemporaries alike. Victor Hugo and Proust. Beaudelaire and St-Exupéry. Each visit lasted longer than the last, and they talked less about French history and more about their personal lives. Childhoods and past loves. Heartaches and dreams. Stendhal and de Beauvoir. Flaubert and Musso.

He talked to her as he would a friend, not a student. And the following day, in class, she watched him pace the room and listened, enthralled. Some may call his voice monotonous, but she loved its hypnotizing steadiness, calming, like the ebb and flow of waves. She sat there and let it transport her through history from Jeanne D’Arc to the Enlightenment. And sometimes she felt like she was alone with him in the room, that the class was all and only for her. That he chose moments in history that would resonate with the souvenirs and thoughts she’d shared with him in his office.

As eager as she was for the next class, each week also brought her closer to the end of the semester.

“I wish your class would never end,” she said.

“Fifteen weeks isn’t enough to cover all of France’s history, perhaps I can convince the university to offer a follow up course. Or perhaps I should offer some… private lessons.”

Betty blushed at the suggestion. Surely there were many things she could learn from him. And with him.

And just when she thought he was attempting to seduce her— not a difficult task by any means— he switched the subject and stepped away from her.

She knew there must be some restrictions against student-teacher relationships, but she was very much an adult and not a proper student. Is that what stopped him or was he simply not attracted to her?

And then one day, her doubts were lifted when he lent her a book from his own collection: Justine by Marquis de Sade.

He handed it to her with all appearance of nonchalance, but she knew the name, of course. And the subject matter.

She read it every night, for hours on end, savouring the lecherous words and his notes in the margins.

“When she’s abandoned her moral center and teachings…when she’s cast aside her facade of propriety and lady-like demeanor…when I have so corrupted this fragile thing and brought out a writhing, mewling, bucking, wanton whore for my enjoyment and pleasure…..enticing from within this feral lioness…growling and scratching and biting…taking everything I dish out to her…at that moment she is never more beautiful to me.”

Again and again she brought herself to orgasm as she imagined Mr. Mercier and herself as the protagonists.

The next week, Betty sat on the bus, holding the book close to her chest, her heart pounded under it. Halfway to the uni, it started to rain and by the time she got out, it was pouring. Rain soaked her clothes and hair, as she ran towards the faculty building. In her haste, she tripped. Justine landed in a puddle.

“Oh, no, no.”

The pages were already engorged with water.

Betty’s hands were shaking when she knocked on Mr. Mercier’s door. She got a few odd looks from two students entering the next door office.

Mr. Mercier opened the door. “Betty, my god, you’re soaked.”

He attempted to dry her with tissues which was completely ineffectual. His hands slowed, and he stared at her dress, cheap yellow fabric clinging to her body.

“Did you enjoy the novel?”

“I ruined it.”

“Pardon?”

She showed him the sodden book. “I’m so sorry, I’ve ruined your book. I was running and the rain and it fell. I should’ve been more careful.”

“Yes you should have, mademoiselle.”

“I’ll buy you another one.”

He scoffed at that. “It was a rare edition, it cannot be replaced. I thought I could trust you. I’m very disappointed in you.”

“Please, don’t be. I’m such a klutz, what can I do?”

He linked his hands behind his back and paced the small office. “How should carelessness be dealt with?”

“Dealt with?” she stammered.

“I cannot let you go unpunished.”

The scenario felt very familiar. Betty swallowed thickly as she realized what was happening, heat curled in her belly. “No, sir, you certainly can’t. I should be punished.”

He schooled his features so as not to smile. “Bend over, mademoiselle,” he said. “And do be quiet, the walls are thin.”

Betty released a shuddering breath and leaned forward on her elbows. Every hair on her body stood on end, anticipating the next touch. She’d never felt so alert to sensations: the crinkle of his crisp cotton shirt, the shift of air as he moved behind her, his woodsy cologne. When he didn’t touch her, she grew antsy and glanced at him over her shoulder. He stroked her back gently, soothing her. She closed her eyes, enjoying the calmness coming over her. She’d waited so long to feel his touch.

His warm hand, splayed wide, resting on her lower back. “Okay?” he asked.

“Yes.”

His hand slipped over the curve of her bum, he squeezed the flesh in a rather mechanical way. Betty pressed into his touch and heard a low chuckle. Red bloomed over her cheeks. Mercier squeezed the other side, hand lingering this time.

“Now, mademoiselle, how many spanks should you get for destroying my precious book?”

“I- I don’t know, sir.”

“Let’s see. How many chapters are there in the book?”

“Ten, sir.”

“Ten it is.”

Then came the first slap, mostly absorbed by her clothes. And another, before he flipped over her skirt, and his hand collided a third time with her arse. The shock was stronger, Betty gasped loudly.

“Shh. Professor Morton is right next door,” he said, so close she felt his breath on her neck.

He spanked her again and Betty squeezed her eyes shut. The heat on her arse cheeks spread wide, and she felt the first tingles between her legs. Mr. Mercier caressed the back of her thighs and it sent a quiver straight to her core.

“How many spanks left, mademoiselle?”

“… six?”

“Six.”

He spanked her three times in a row, then tugged down her panties. If anyone walked through that door, the first thing they would see was her bare arse and cunt. And somehow that turned her on even more.

Betty realized it wasn’t just her own ragged breathing she was hearing. Mr. Mercier ran a featherlight finger up the inside of her thigh, leaving goosebumps after its passage. Betty clutched the side of the desk.

“Please, sir.”

He stroked the other thigh. “Please what?”

“May I have another?”

Footsteps and loud chatter came from the hall.

“Do you think they heard you beg?” he whispered into her ear. “You do it so well.”

His palm smacked her flesh twice more. Harder this time. It resounded between the walls of his office. The sting ebbed into a pleasant tingling. She squeezed her thighs and felt the moisture between her folds. She was dying to dip her fingers in that wetness or better for him to do it. She dropped her forehead to the desk and stilled, her whole body tensed to stop herself.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Betty? Look at me,” he insisted.

Gone was the stern voice. She raised her head and met his beautiful, concerned eyes. It made her heart melt, and a less carnal sort of desire grew in her.

“One more, sir.”

She felt the warmth of his palm, but he didn’t touch her. He swished his hand, built the anticipation. A hairbreadth away. Another swish and the last blow landed between her cheek and thigh.

Betty squealed. She hoped his hand print would show.

“Ten. Have you learned your lesson?”

“I have. Promise. I’ll be more careful with your books.”

“Good girl.”

He pressed between her shoulder blades to keep her bent over the desk. He stood behind her. Staring? She felt exposed and vulnerable. And empty. Her inner muscles clenched around nothing. He sat on his haunches and bit into the reddened flesh of her bum. A drop of moisture tickled her sensitive nether lips.

“I see the Marquis de Sade was right: ‘it is only by way of pain one arrives at pleasure’.”

She glanced over her shoulder and caught him pressing his palm over the bulge in his trousers. She smiled, proud that he was affected too.

“Eyes ahead,” he chastised her.

He moved around for awhile then laid something on her back, then another thing, heavier, and a third. “Some of my favourite books,” he explained. “Diderot, Beaumarchais, Voltaire… on your lovely behind. Make sure you do not drop one of them.”

“Wha— Oh!”

Two fingers brushed down her slit. He caressed her slowly, lightly. Sometimes wiping his damp fingers on her thigh. Every time she squirmed for more contact, the books swayed and Mr. Mercier would cluck his tongue and stop touching her.

“Careful, mademoiselle.”

He pushed his middle finger in her, and she automatically bucked back. The books fell off her. He muttered in French, and spanked her with a leather-bound novel, twice on each cheek. She clenched her teeth and breathed deeply. Mr. Mercier put the books back on her, adding a fourth, and admired his work. She missed his touch already.

Someone knocked at his door.

“Should I open,” he whispered.

Betty shook her head vehemently, but perhaps, when he fingered her again, he felt her clench at the thought of getting caught.

Another knock and Mr. Mercier moved his fingers faster. Betty bit her fist to smother her moans. How she wanted to buck and thrust, deeper and faster, her legs quivered from the strain of holding back. She thought she might lose her mind. Sweat beaded along her spine.

“Good girl, you are doing so well.”

When no other knock came, Mr. Mercier stood up. She heard the rustle of fabric and a zipper. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, desire coiled low in her stomach.

“Stay still,” he said, holding her hips, before rubbing his length along her slit.

“Please, sir, I don’t think I can— the books. Please,” she stammered incoherently.

“Shhh, just a while longer.” He moaned, still teasing her, and teasing himself too.

The head of his cock rubbed her clit, and she choked on a sob. She wanted him to take her, any way he desired, she didn’t care.

“Please, sir.”

“Use your words.”

“Please fuck me.”

He removed the books, tossed them on a chair carelessly. “Stand up.”

She did as he asked, confused, knickers still around her ankles. Her eyes dropped to his opened trousers, and she licked her lips.

He cupped her cheeks and claimed her mouth. An all-encompassing, hungry kiss. Their lips moved eagerly together, with nips and licks. Betty melted into the kiss, clutching his shirt, arching into his body.

He hiked her up on the desk, she kicked off her heels and knickers. He tugged her legs around his waist, and entered her in one deep thrust. They groaned in unison, and Professor Morton slammed an unhappy fist into the wall between their offices. They laughed hiding their faces into each other’s neck.

“Don’t stop,” Betty demanded, voluntarily tightening around him.

Mercier moaned. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He snapped his hips as fast as he could, both too on edge for anything with more finesse. Teeth and nails dug through the fabric of their clothes. The musky smell of sex rose in the room as did their moans.

“So close.”

“Presque. Attends-moi.”

“Can’t— Ah!”

Betty’s toes curled, her thighs quivered and one last, deep push, triggered her orgasm. Bliss spilled through her blood. And Jean-François followed with a loud grunt.

He fell into his desk chair, bringing Betty with him. They kissed slowly, tenderly.

Betty giggled. “I can’t believe we did that.”

“Who says married couple have boring sex.”

“Not us… Can we do it again?”

“There are eight weeks left to the semester,” Jean-Francois said. “Will you still come to my class anyway?”

“Of course! I really do like it. I’m learning so much.”

He held her closer and kissed the top of her head.

“Me bum’s kinda sore,” Betty said shyly.

“Let’s go home, I’ll rub some lotion on your behind and make you cum again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, ma belle.”

[sciforce]

AI at the Classroom: the Good, the Bad and the Ugly

In recent decades we have seen technology changing our world in any sense: what was considered to be Sci-Fi ten years ago is around us now. But when you ask people which sphere remains outdated, you can hear a lot of complaints about the classroom. Despite new whiteboards and projectors, the schoolrooms of today are strikingly similar to those of 50 years ago. Students sit in a room together, listen to the same explanation and complete the same lessons with little variations no matter their learning styles or mastery. Some students are left behind, while others are bored and unmotivated.

AI is believed to be exactly the remedy to change this. The explosion in cheap computing power, development in algorithms, and the increase of available data are making possible new, sophisticated tools to teach children in a more personalized way. Yet, the school resists. In this post, we’ll try to explore the benefits and the risks of introducing AI in the classroom

AI: The Good

1. Personalized and Customized Learning: It is probably the most famous argument for Artificial Intelligence, since AI can let children choose everything: the learning pace, the curriculum, the form of education, and the educator. By using predictive computing, AI can learn students’ habits and propose the most efficient study schedule for them. On the other hand, AI can give teachers a better understanding of how their students learn and allows them to collect insights about every student they teach, develop an individualized approach, and handle even the toughest kids easier.

2. Adaptive Group Formation: No class is truly homogeneous: there are always more and less academically inclined kids. By analyzing learner information, AI can generate groups whose motivation or skills are particularly suited to a certain task, or groups that balance one learner’s weaknesses with another learner’s strengths.

3. 24/7 response: Every person has a biorhythm and the brain function of larks and night owls differ. But at a traditional classroom, all students are equal before morning hours. Moreover, they cannot contact teachers whenever we need an answer to a question or suddenly “feel like studying”. AI doesn’t need to take breaks, it doesn’t get annoyed because someone called at 1 am, so everyone can contact a virtual tutor whenever he needs academic assistance. Virtual humans like avatars, digital assistants or chatbots are cost efficient and can work all day round, seven days a week in repetitive and time-consuming tasks no human enjoys doing.

4. Virtual Reality Learning: Speaking about the virtual world, VR-assisted learning allows for educational support in authentic environments and extends the boundaries of the classroom. Students can visit places we’ve never been to, do something we’ve never done and get closer to things they learn about — space and nature, complex projects and concepts.

5. Learning for all: The challenge of education is tough for every child, but it gets even more severe for kids with special needs or children of emigrants. They have to cope with the learning process, the environment they learn in, their community and the lifestyle. AI programs that augment the educational experience for the disabled are already in development by companies like Facebook and are aimed at granting learners with special needs a greater sense of autonomy. At the same time, AI-driven machine translation projects try to bridge the language gap for many second language students that is a possibility to foreign students to understand their teacher in real time.

6. New methods of teaching: If other points concern class management and organization, this concerns real innovations in pedagogy. Game learning with the help of bots, Intelligent Tutoring Systems that challenge and support learners using different algorithms, intelligent moderation and real-time problem solving are just a few examples of new concept of the learning process that can disrupt the traditional classroom.

7.Assistance to teachers. AI can help teachers be more effective and efficient in their work in several ways. For example, they can outsource grading to specialized apps sparing a large portion of their time. Besides, AI can improve the course and the relevant textbooks by analysing patterns in which a large number of students submit wrong answers to the same questions and attracting teachers’ attention to such areas of improvement.

8. Increasing tech experience for students. These days, technology is needed in every professional activity and the importance of acquiring STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Math) skills grows. So, it’s better that children start learning to use it as early as possible. The use of artificial intelligence shows the power of tech and coding and might encourage schoolchildren to proceed with learning STEM.

Source: https://medium.com/ai-revolution/when-will-the-first-machine-become-superintelligent-ae5a6f128503#.g8ydf092h

AI: the Bad

Obviously, all developments come at a certain cost and usually entail falls in other areas. Bringing Artificial Intelligence to classroom may not be always beneficial for schools and learners and their families.

1. Cost: The challenge that schools face immediately is the high cost of the new technology. When combining the cost of installation, maintenance and repair, as well as the cost of power consumed by new robot teachers, it becomes clear that AI is expensive.

2. Lack of personal bond: It may be true that smart machines have more information and this information is more trustful and recent than that of human teachers. However, educators are not just keepers of knowledge, they give children personal guidance, influence their worldview and lead them by example. Substituting personal interaction with machine-based education can lead to educational oversights that hurt learners more than help.

3. Children’s ability to learn from a virtual assistant is still unclear. The biggest open question is whether students will be motivated enough to study when teachers are not there to supervise.The teacher is a central figure during the formative years, and sometimes it’s the wish to impress a teacher that makes a kid eager to master the subject. Sometimes, on the contrary, it is the teacher who embodies the power and makes a reluctant child learn. How will children react to the absence of such a person in their life?

4. The attention span and the ability to multitask reduces. New technology shortens human attention span, as research suggests. We use so much help from machines that our own abilities shrink. By introducing more machines at school, there is a great risk that children will become so used to relying on AI that their abilities to multitask or to focus will get even smaller.

AI: The Ugly

Artificial Intelligence is quite often depicted as an evil power able to ruin the Earth and wipe away mankind. Though it is an artistic exaggeration, AI can lead to societal shifts, including those at the classroom, that are quite harmful and even dangerous.

1. Unemployment: At present, teaching is one of the biggest professional branches. Therefore, if we replace teachers with machines, it will create less of a demand for human educators and, consequently, it will lead to high unemployment and protests. Just remember the times of the industrial revolution when people were replaced by machines with same functions there were strikes and wars.

2. Addiction: We know that our reliance on machines can lead to technology addiction. A school is traditionally a place where children dump their mobile phones and get to open a traditional book. With tech implemented in every classroom, kids can become too used to having their devices always ready for them. As a result, we can end up with a bunch of socially-unadapted technology-addicted adults in several decades.

3. AI-based power: The sad truth is that the power belongs to those who have means to control our minds. Even without thinking of possible biases fed to learners by the officially distributed software, there is always a risk that someone hacks the code and gains the power of spreading violent, inappropriate information and propaganda.

4. Widening of the rich-poor gap: At the early stages of AI conquering the classroom, bots and other AI learning tools will require a student to have a tablet or a laptop. Of course, nowadays not every child has these gadgets, so having AI will become a privilege of the rich. However, it is believed that with the development of new technologies, robots and AI will become more common, while having a human tutor will be a luxury.

5. Mind control: This time, quite literal. Chinese high schools are currently busy introducing technology that either scans students’ faces every 30 seconds or read their brainwaves, looking to see if students are paying attention or losing interest. Besides from being stressful and innervating to the children and probably disrupting their joy of learning, AI-powered tools also run the risk of creating classroom-based, mini-surveillance states.

So what is the future of AI at school?

Despite having great benefits for schools and success in other spheres and industries, AI hasn’t made huge inroads into schools yet. That is partially due to how conservative the field is compared to other areas and due to the limited resources. However, the biggest obstacle might be the concern over the influence AI might have on children.

In this sense, introducing AI at school can be compared with the decades-long debates over the GMO: recent studies might have proved it safe, but the prejudice remains on agenda. Yet, it is a cheaper option, and it is often the price (and laziness) that underlies our choices and pushes us forward. So, once AI outbeats a human teacher in cost-efficiency, we all will welcome robots at our schools — for better or for worse.

[keiithmingo]

Honoring our Herbal Ancestors

At this time of year when the plants are dropping their leaves, dying back and decomposing into the Earth again, it is a time to honor death in the sacred cycle of life that it holds. Many cultures across the world speak of this time when the veils are thinning between our physical world and the spiritual world where our ancestors live.

This potent moment in the wheel of the year is often marked by ritual, ceremony and holy days to feed the spirits of our ancestors and honor the legacy they created which lives on through us. From my Celtic lineage, the holy day of Samhain (today celebrated as Halloween) was a sacred time to honor our ancestors, but to also listen to their guidance and wisdom at this time when we have the closest contact to them.

Though this is a potent time to commune with our own passed family members and ancestors within our lineage, today I also want to recognize our ancestors who are at the root of the work we do as herbalists.

Before there were herbalists, there were plants. The plants were here on this Earth far before humans and their wisdom is far beyond our own limited human understanding. They are the ones who know how to heal sickness, how to mend and restore health. They know how to nourish and feed life. They know how to adapt and evolve, and have witnessed the ages of life on Earth. Their brilliance and intelligence is vast and profound beyond comprehension.

In this way, they are our ancestors. And as herbalists, they should truly be our primary teachers. The plants are the healers, we are simply the ones with the feet and hands to carry their medicine to the people who need their help. This is the way I relate to the plants, and so this is how I wanted to honor them today as our first ancestors.

But I also want to acknowledge and honor the human ancestors who have created this legacy of herbalism we are a part of. By virtue of being an herbalist, we are part of a gigantic lineage of healers and medicine carriers whose work we are continuing on today.

Where do you think all of that information in your herb books came from? A lot of knowledge that was passed from generation to generation eventually became written down and is part of the knowledge base most herbal books today are derived from.

Plant medicine has been evolving throughout millions of years, with each generation adding onto the knowledge base they inherited from the previous generations. Though we continue to evolve the practice of herbalism with new discoveries in science and with revelations from communing with the plants themselves, it is important to recognize the deep history that is the root we are growing from as herbalists today.

It’s also important to remember the hardship and turmoil that the herbal healers before us have undergone and the sacrifices they have made to preserve and protect the knowledge of how to heal with plants. Many healers were hanged, burned at the stake, murdered, their traditions lost and knowledge stolen. It’s critical that we remember the sacrifice of the herbalists and healers before us and recognize the incredible privilege we have to study herbalism and have so much information accessible at our fingertips in this modern age.

When we broaden our perspective and look at the long arc of time, we remember that we are a small part of a large legacy. It’s our responsibility to take care of the knowledge that has been passed along to us and to do our best to preserve this knowledge so that it can continue on to benefit the next generations.

As herbalists, we are caretakers for this moment in history of the precious wisdom of how to heal people with plants. It’s an incredible blessing and calling to be part of a lineage of plant people and healers. It’s up to us to carry this wisdom with humility and great care, to share it and help those who come to us asking for help & healing.

Herbal Allies to Assist in Connecting with our Ancestors

Horsetail (Equisetum arvense)

Horsetail is one of the oldest plants on Earth, with a history of growing all the way back to prehistoric times. The Equisetum’s are known as a living fossils as they are the only living examples of the Equisetopsida class which originally formed the parts of the understory of the great Paleozoic forests. They lived roughly 540 million years ago when the first large reptiles roamed the earth – and grew up to 30 meters tall! 

As Horsetail has endured the ages and, as a result, holds a powerful memory of that time within its structure, Horsetail can help to slow us down and help us reflect on our own ancestral roots, bringing us closer to a more slower time and pace – a time once lived a long time ago. 

This description of Horsetail from Jessy Delleman of Fireweed Farms (one of the first Evolutionary Herbalism graduates) so perfectly describes the primal roots of this ancient plant:

“There is one plant still in the forest that, for me, embodies that energetic slowness: Horsetail. Horsetail is a remnant of a time before humans, a time before flowers and birds, a time when everything was much slower, more primal; the vibration of the earth resonating deep and low. Horsetails, along with their cousins the ferns, were some of the first plants to evolve on land after the mosses and liverworts. In the time of the dinosaurs, before the trees, horsetail forests were dominant on earth and species towered to over a hundred feet high. 

I often have the sense of time moving too fast in our modern world, and often that speed seems a product of the human mind rather something belonging to nature. Everything happens so fast these days, information is so easily exchanged as most of us are so plugged in to our phones and computers, available to this constant stream of input coming at us 24/7. But we are nature, and nature has sped up too.

Over billions of years of evolution we moved from the slowness of algae, mosses, ferns, and horsetails to the dynamic symbiosis of the conifers and the flowering plants communicating through scent, colour, and nectar; and the vast underground mycelial networks connecting, digesting, and recycling it all…

When I spend time with this ancient plant I have a sense of time slowing down, a sense a spaciousness opens up before me. Horsetail plants resonate with a slower vibration, and brings a sense of solidity to my life, teaching me about adaptability and endurance through time. A medicine for the spirit in these rapidly changing times.” 

Want to go deeper with Horsetail? Click here to sign up for Materia Medica Monthly for $1 to get the rest of the monograph on Horsetail

Elder (Sambucus spp.)

Elder is a vastly wise plant. I believe it’s called Elder for a reason. It is a hallmark remedy for the herbalist to develop a relationship, as in my experience it’s a teacher of the ways of the forest, a master plant that teaches us what it means to be a person of the plants and an instrument for their healing.

I believe it was no mistake that this plant was the “sign” of the herbalist in European folk medicine, for it was not only associated with its nature as a panacea, but also because it is in a way, a sigil or mark of a true person of the plants. So on the one hand, I think this is an important plant for us as herbalists to have a relationship with, and on the other there’s also a deep medicine it has to offer for the people we serve.

The way I’ve come to understand this aspect of Elder, is that it’s a plant that helps to provide a level of wisdom in someone’s life. The way I use it is for people that seem to have a difficult time learning from their life experiences, that need a degree of guidance within themselves… in short, they need an elder.

One way I like to describe it, is that establishing a deep connection with this plant develops our internal “wisdom voice,” that part of ourself that knows best, that can look at our lives as if through the eyes of our future self as an elder, and from there move forward in a way that isn’t reactive from our past traumas but acting from a place of wisdom.

I’ve also used it for people that literally feel like they don’t have someone to look up to, good role models, or perhaps have lost their parents. This is actually one way that I found Elder truly helped me, as my father passed away when I was 16 years old. It was really quite profound how much it helped me not only process repressed grief but also to come to a connection with the spirit of my father and feel the protection and guidance of my ancestors. 

Ready to learn more about Elder? Sign up for Materia Medica Monthly HERE for $1 to get the rest of the monograph on Elder

Honoring our Herbal Ancestors published first on https://nutriherbsstore.tumblr.com/