#i feel like- i mean i learned this stuff‚ kind of‚ like in science classes as a kid and stuff. like i sat in the classes and i did my | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ctitan98official · 3 months

Text

Anonymous: Oh man, seeing all this professor!Donna stuff makes me really want to see professor!Miranda content as well! Could I request something along those lines? Maybe the reader is a graduate student for a masters program under Miranda, and they start bonding. Miranda is pregnant with Eva (midway to end of the second trimester maybe) and isn’t sure that the reader will want to be with her, especially with the baby not being theirs, but the reader is ecstatic at the prospect of having a family with her and is even willing to put their degree on hold or swap programs to make it work because they care about her and Eva so much. Bonus points if the reader feels Eva kick against their palm in agreement of them being the other parent (bc that'd be cute).

Hell yeah! Also, I know Miranda’s last name is never revealed so I just went with “Balan” (That last name literally means ‘Blonde’ in Romanian XD) Felt weird to just have Y/N call her by her first name lol. Let’s get into it!

You were scared when you entered your Master’s program. What if it was too hard? What if you couldn’t keep up? You had almost given up before you really started.

However, when your program advisor, Dr. Miranda Balan, had been notified about your request to transfer to another school… She couldn’t let such a promising student go. She had seen your research and it was very impressive. She decided to take you under her wing and set up a meeting to talk with you.

Miranda is a world-class biologist. She’s worked on thousands of major projects. You’ve followed her work for many years and truly admire her. But now, you feel dumb just sitting in front of her.

However, the scientist’s beautiful silver eyes are kind as they assess you. “Now, Y/N. What’s this nonsense I hear about you wanting to transfer?” She asks with a smile.

You blush. So that’s what this is about. “I… just don’t think I’m going to do well in the program.” You tell her and nervously scratch the back of your neck.

Miranda quirks a concerned eyebrow. “Why do you think that, Y/N?” She asks.

“I’m not… Brilliant like you. I work hard, but, sometimes it just takes me longer to understand things.” You say.

Miranda nods in sympathy, but she also giggles at your unintentional compliment. “Well… Flattery will get you everywhere with me.” She jokes which makes you laugh a little bit as well. “But, I will personally see to it that you are not left behind. Think of me as your new mentor.” She says with a smile.

Your eyes widen at this.

“You can shadow me as I work and act as my lab assistant. Hands on learning is more effective than just lectures, after all.” She tells you. “Plus, we can also have some one-on-one tutoring sessions if you feel like you need help.” Miranda finishes with a grin.

Your eyes brighten at this. She’s so generous. Why is she doing this? “Um… Wow, thank you so much.” You say gratefully. “I, just… Um, do you really see that much potential in me? Why would you offer me this?” You ask quietly.

Miranda hums sadly at your lack of self-confidence. She knows exactly how you feel. It’s scary starting a new venture. She’s dealing with that at the moment herself, actually. “Well, Y/N, I’ve seen your work and… I know you will make a big name for yourself in science.” She tells you. “We need mavericks who are willing to take chances for the benefit of humankind. I think you fit that profile quite nicely.” She winks at you.

Oh shit. She’s so gorgeous you can’t even really focus on what she’s saying. “T-thank you. I’m honored.” You tell her, embarrassed.

Miranda chuckles at your heated cheeks. You’re adorable. “You asked me why I wanted to mentor you.” She says.

You nod fervently.

“The truth is, I’m at a crossroads in my life. I will not be working on anymore huge projects, except for my own research. I’ve been all over the world and… Now, I want to know what other things life has in store for me.” She says with a dreamy expression. “I have always loved to teach, and now, I want that to be my full-time career.” She smiles.

Wow… So Miranda will not be a part of those huge research teams any longer. She’s dead serious about changing course.

“Plus…” Miranda adds. She pauses before thinking about something. The blonde suddenly holds up a finger, motioning for you to wait a second. Miranda stands and goes to look outside her office doorway to make sure no one is listening in. Once she is satisfied that no one is around to hear, she closes the door before sitting down again.

You look at her in confusion but wait for her to speak.

“Y/N, what I want to tell you must remain a secret. You don’t have to stay and listen to this, but all I ask is for your discretion if you decide to hear what I have to say.” Miranda tells you seriously.

What could she be about to tell you? You can’t help your curiosity. “Okay. I’m ready.” You tell her with a determined glint in your eye.

Miranda giggles at you. So spirited. It reminds her of herself, actually. “Excellent. Well… There are two main things you should know.” She begins. “The first matter is that… I am expecting my first child.” Miranda reveals with a smile.

Your face is in awe. “Wow, really?” You ask in disbelief. You didn’t think she looked pregnant. Now, you’re trying to secretly look for any signs.

Miranda laughs at your poor attempt to remain stealthy as you examine her. “I’m only three months along, so it’s hard to tell.” She says. “The University does not know yet and I would like to keep this between us for a while. Would that be okay, Y/N?” She asks, suddenly worried that she has burdened you with this secret.

“Absolutely! That’s not my place to share with anyone else.” You answer.

Miranda internally breathes a sigh of relief. She trusts you. “I appreciate that, Y/N… I have been waiting for this little one all of my life.” She grins.

“Congratulations.” You tell her with a smile. For some reason, seeing Miranda’s eyes light up when she talks about her unborn child makes you feel warm and mushy on the inside. It’s sweet.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Miranda says happily. It feels… Good to get that off her chest. She doesn’t know why, but it feels even better that it’s you she’s talking to specifically. You’re so kind and most certainly a great listener. “Now, onto the next bit of information I want to share.” She tells you.

You nod and lean closer to listen.

“I… Would like for someone to continue the research I have worked on for most of my life. I can’t think of anyone I would enjoy training more than you, Y/N.” Miranda says sincerely.

Your eyes go wide. What an honor. Miranda’s research is groundbreaking. This could change your life. “Fuck yes!” You suddenly blurt out quite loudly before your cheeks go red at your reaction. “I m-mean, I just… Thank you Dr. Balan.” You tell her.

Miranda chuckles at your uncontrollable giddiness and excitement. “I’m so glad to hear that, Y/N. And please, Miranda is fine.” She tells you with a wink.

Oh man… You hope your quickly developing crush on her will not ruin this opportunity…

——————————————————————————

A few months pass by and you and Miranda have grown very close. She often invites you over for dinner and the two of you delight in each other’s presence.

You work closely with her in the lab and are hyper-vigilant as you make sure that Miranda isn’t exposed to anything that could harm her and the baby.

Miranda assures you that what you are researching is not hazardous, but you still worry.

One evening, as you two are cleaning up, you hear Miranda gasp softly and immediately place her hand on her stomach. You’re by her side immediately. “Are you okay?!” You ask her worriedly.

Miranda’s eyes are wide and her stance is rigid, but she eventually chuckles in astonishment. “I think this little one just kicked me for the first time.” She tells you with a breathtaking smile.

You brighten at this. “Really?!” You ask her excitedly.

Miranda giggles at your happy reaction. “Yes. Would you like to feel, Y/N?” She asks and reaches her hand out to yours.

“Yeah!” You agree. The baby has been a constant topic of conversation. You and Miranda have taken to jokingly asking the baby for their opinion as you work during the day. You’ve become very attached and they are not even born yet.

Miranda beams at your enthusiastic answer and gently guides your hand to where she felt the baby kick earlier. You both wait for a moment, but nothing. The baby has apparently decided that they would rather take a nap now.

“Aw, shoot… Maybe… They just don’t like me.” You say, trying not to be too disappointed.

Miranda coos at the sadness on your face. “It’s okay, Y/N. It’s still rather early for them to move too much. I’m sure they adore you.” She says. Miranda finds it precious to see how you’ve grown so fond of the baby.

It’s been amazing just getting to spend so much time with you as she experiences this pregnancy… It almost feels like you two are eager parents as you wait for the baby to get here.

Miranda’s train of thought immediately halts as she realizes just how much you mean to her. She can’t imagine life without you now… She’s developing feelings for you… And… She wants to raise this baby with you. Her cheeks burn as she tries to shake the poisonous thought from her mind. There’s no way you could ever feel the same. This isn’t your baby, after all. Miranda looks to you as she is silently wrestling with her unfounded hopes.

You are very infatuated yourself. When you and Miranda’s eyes meet… You feel a sudden wave of attraction. You can’t fight it any longer. You gently wrap your arms around her to lean in closer. Eventually, your lips meet and it’s like your world is finally complete. Miranda’s lips are soft and warm. You deepen the kiss and Miranda moans as you hold her close.

As if on cue, the two of you quickly part at the same time, embarrassed by your actions.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Miranda! Please… Forgive me!” You quickly apologize. You begin beating yourself up. What the hell is wrong with you? Why did you-

“Y/N, it’s okay.” Miranda says and reaches out to cup your face. “I kissed you too.” She tries to soothe you as she rubs her fingers along your cheek.

“No, I… It’s more than that.” You try to explain. “I… Think I might be in love with you, Miranda.” You reveal.

Miranda can’t help the shock she feels. You… Are really in love with her? Miranda is quickly brought of her thoughts as you begin to speak again.

“I… I know it’s not my place, but… I love the baby too. I kind of feel like they’re my child as well.” You say.

At this, Miranda begins sobbing joyfully. She hugs you tight. “I… Love you too, Y/N. We both do.” She says and pulls back a bit as she puts your hand on her tummy.

You laugh in disbelief. This had just been a fantasy, but now… Could building a life with Miranda be possible? Could you… Be a family?

“This baby is just as much yours as they are mine. If… That’s really what you want.” Miranda says, now unsure of how you’ll react to that prospect.

“That’s what I want, Miranda.” You tell her and softly wipe her tears. You give her one more kiss before you crouch down to cradle her belly. “Can I be your other parent, baby?” You ask. You don’t expect a response, but you quickly feel a firm kick to your hand. Almost as if the baby is agreeing with you.

“Did you feel that Miranda?!” You ask and stand up to look at her.

Miranda giggles. “I most certainly did, my love.” She says. “The baby likes that idea.” She grins.

You bring her in for a kiss and hope you can convey just how happy you are. This is a dream come true.

Masterlist

#re8 #re8 village #mother miranda #mother miranda x y/n #mother miranda x reader #resident evil village #resident evil imagines #resident evil 8 #resident evil #re8 shitpost

38 notes · View notes

foolondahill17 · 2 years

Text

Dear Mr. Vonnegut,

Transcript (bracketed text are notes from Mrs. Dalton):

[11/15/94, please add date]

[C- please see me after class]

Dear Mr. Vonnegut,

[Introduce yourself here]

We’re supposed to pick our favorite author and write them a letter, or whatever. I don’t have a favorite author because I’m not a fucking [unacceptable language!] nerd, but I thought Cat’s Cradle was the best book we read so far by process of elimination (no offense). I just thought the other books were stupid. My Antonia? Total snooze fest [point taken]. And the story about the tricked-out wallpaper?

I get that it was supposed to “mean something,” but – call me crazy – I think a story should have a good story before you start talking about hidden meanings. Some lady getting locked in her bedroom and hallucinating - that’s a shitty [language!] story. If I were her, I would have just jumped out the window or beat my husband over the head with a lamp. Not that I’m ever gonna have a husband. I’m a dude. But my point is, it doesn’t matter if the story’s secretly some feminist commentary on how we shouldn’t lock up women (see, Mrs. Dalton? I do pay attention) [not quite] if it’s just a crummy story in the first place.

But Cat’s Cradle was a good story, first, before all those messages about how we shouldn’t have gone so crazy with nuclear technology during the Cold War because it might blow up the earth someday. But anyway, the story was good, you get me? It was funny and weird and had all that new age religion and science fiction stuff – kind of like “Star Trek.”

I liked the stuff about Bokonism Bokononism. There’s this real stuck up prissy bitch in class named Marie [very inappropriate to discuss another student like this!] who was really upset that Bokononism was basically saying that all religion is just a bunch of lies people make up to make themselves feel better about the fact that everyone dies. And Mrs. Dalton said that, why did it matter if it was all lies if it still brought people peace? I don’t know, I think I’d rather not be lied to and find peace on my own terms, you get me? But Marie was all like “but Jesus is the truth and the Bible is the word of God.” People like her are all over Texas. I hope we move soon. It’s way too fucking [language!] hot here, too.

My dad’s got this friend who’s a pastor who used to babysit me and my brother all the time. He’s always saying the same kind of stuff Marie is, accept [except] he’s not a jerk about it. He thinks that the evil all around us is proof that there’s good, too. My mom used to think that. She taught me the hole [whole] “when I lay me down to sleep” schtick, but then she ended up dying, anyway, by something so evil you wouldn’t even believe it if I told you.

The foot thing was kind of kinky [??], but one thing I liked about Bokononism was the karass idea. I move around a lot, so I meet a lot of people, and I guess some of them have sorta joined my karass [nice connection to your personal life]. I don’t think we’re cosmically linked like the book was talking about, but I think it’s weird [significant?] that we all met each other even though we normally never would have. Like if Dad never met Pastor Jim, he never would have met Caleb and Bobby [run-on sentence] and then me and Sam never would have spent that summer with Bobby [run-on sentence] and I never would have learned how to replace a catalytic converter [impressive!], which was helpful because I had to do it all by myself on the Impala when Dad broke his arm and I needed to drive [??] Sam to school.

It’s like what Newt said: “life’s just a game of Cat’s Cradle. [end quote] I see what you mean, but I don’t know if I totally agree. It just seems so pointless if you really think about it. Life’s nothing more than interconnected strings [nicely phrase]. It’s…doomful [??]. (My dweeb little brother says “inevitable” is a better word) [It is a better word].

Living in a world where you’re not in control of your decisions seems kinda depressing. I mean, I don’t have a lot of control over where we live or what my dad does for a living, but at least I get to decide to help people. It’s not me who’s trapped inside a story that’s already been written. I’m not some corpse on the highest mountain of some Caribean Caribbean Island, thumbing my nose to God. I’ve got more power than that, right? [A significant question]

Anyway, it ain’t like you’re actually going to read this because I probably won’t get a chance to send it. And Mrs. Dalton won’t get to read it, either, [spoke too soon] because I won’t even be at this school in a week. But there’s nothing else to do while I wait for Dad to get back home. There’s nothing good on TV after 11:00, so I might as well do homework. He said he’d be back in time for dinner, but it’s already 1 AM. [??]

Bye, [Regards,]

- Dean W.

A+, you’re a genious [genius] Mr. Winchester! [haha]

[Passably written, and you followed the assignment well enough, but your language and attitude toward your fellow students are unacceptable.]

*Pages surrounded by doodles of a devils trap, fire, Star Wars logo, book, stick-figures, grocery list (peanut butter, apples, bread, soup, cereal, socks), snail, partly erased cartoon dog, glasses, gun, Scooby Doo, baseball, skull, Samulet, Chevrolet logo, Zeppelin lyrics (‘Twas in the darkest depths of Mordor I met a girl so fair, but Gollum, and the evil one, crept up and slipped away with her), note: Call dentist for Sammy! 555-8451*

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #young dean winchester #tean dean winchester #kurt vonnegut #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #ficlet #cat's cradle

215 notes · View notes

dyhayc · 2 years

Note

Could you write something where Eddie gives you flowers because it’s your birthday or something ? If not it’s alright :)

Word Count: erm… 4.3k

Warnings: Reader has bad friends, Steve is actually clueless about girls, Dustin is an absolute menace

A/N: There’s quite a bit of Hawkins High worldbuilding that I really didn’t expect to write, it just happened. A lot of the high school stuff is actually based on my own experiences, so that’s probably why! Also, the part about reader’s birthday doesn’t start until about halfway in, whoops!

Btw I know I took a lot of things about the plot into my own hands (so much that it’s more parallel to the request than the actual request), so anon if you’re reading this feel free to request again if you didn’t like this!

Written post-season 4 because I’m trying to manifest Eddie surviving </3

Under the cut there's a diagram I drew to help you understand the layout of the science classrooms (mostly because i had no idea how to describe what I was talking about), it'll make more sense when you start reading

It’s the first day of a new term. Calculus, your first period, is as dull as ever. You’re springing out of your seat the second the bell rings. Strolling past your locker, you head to the science classrooms for your second period: Physics with Mrs. Williams. You know it’ll be an easy class. You’ve heard from friends that she’s biased towards athletes and cheerleaders.

You’re a cheerleader only because your mom persuaded you to try it. She’d attended Hawkins High and been one of the most successful cheer captains the school ever had. Trying to fill her shoes seemed intimidating initially, but you managed just fine. Joining the cheer squad has actually helped you gain confidence and friends.

When you walk into the classroom, you’re not surprised when everyone looks at you. The cheer team was tiny compared to similar-sized schools in the area. It’s pretty rare to have cheerleaders in classes simply because there are so few of you. You’re not as popular as the other girls, but you don’t mind. Staying in the background is something you prefer.

Everyone is huddled near the wall awaiting their assigned seat, so you go to join them. Scanning the crowd, you’re disappointed to see so few seniors. Science courses are unique; the only required classes with a mix of lower and upperclassmen. To graduate, you have to pass three years of science. The first is Biology, but after that, it’s whatever science class you want, causing such a diverse crowd of students.

With an exasperated sigh, you lean against a lab station. None of your friends are taking physics, apparently, which means you’ll probably be bored out of your mind the entire time. The door slamming open breaks your train of thought. Everyone turns to look at the entrance.

Eddie Munson pushes through the crowd gathered at the door and heads towards lab station seven in the back corner. Dropping his things on the counter, he pulls out the stool. It scrapes comically loud against the already scuffed floor before stopping suddenly, engulfing everyone in awkward silence. He plops down onto the chair and ignores everyone. The lowerclassmen mumble confused questions amongst themselves, ‘Why is he sitting down?’ and ‘Don’t we have assigned seats?’ They’ve obviously never had a class with Eddie before.

In most classes, teachers isolate him. They claim he’s a distraction to the class, so he’s put in corner seats, TA tables, and sometimes even islands. Desks pushed to the corner of the room like you’re elementary schoolers. It’s cruel the way they treat him. It’s like they think he’s worthless and incapable of learning. Seeing it in person makes your stomach crawl, so you’ve always tried to smile at him and be kind. You don’t ever go farther than that, though. He’s made it clear he has no interest in cheerleaders.

Anyways, Eddie’s done these classes twice before. He knows where teachers expect him to sit. Apparently, Mrs. Williams has assigned him a lab station. Lab stations are unique to science classrooms, intended only to be used during labs. Unfortunately, they take up a lot of room, meaning there’s less space for normal desks in the middle of the class. There’s always a couple of overflow students who have to sit at a station, and they’re always upperclassmen. Lab stations are highly sought-after seats, after all.

Mrs. Williams finally arrives and begins her speech about ‘finding your seats in an orderly manner.’ She begins reading names off of her clipboard. Students groan and moan when they’re given a desk. Everyone knows you get to sit at a station if your name isn't called. You listen intently, crossing your fingers and hoping you won’t get chosen. It’s down to the last seat, and the tension is killing you.

“Stacy Miller,” your classmate pouts but sits in her seat, “The rest of you may find a lab station. One person per station, please.”

Surveying the room, you scrunch your nose at your options. Everyone has spread out. People are sitting at labs one, three, five, seven, and ten, meaning no matter where you sit, you’ll be next to somebody. Honestly, the only person you’d want to sit near is Eddie. Walking over, you see him squint suspiciously at you when you sit down at station eight. In response, you smile.

For the first week, he ignores you. It’s fine. You figured he would. Then the unexpected happens: he approaches you.

That Friday you’re taking your weekly progress quiz. Mrs. Williams steps out of the room for a moment to chat with the department head. Eddie takes advantage of her absence, pulling up a stool next to yours. Bewildered, you turn your head to look at him. Leaning closer to you, he whispers, “What’s Newton’s first law?”

You’re sure he only asks you because you’re sitting so close, but you still feel compelled to help him, “An object in motion stays in motion unless a force is acted upon it.” A few classmates turn their heads when they hear your whispers, but Eddie’s scowl turns them back around.

“Uh, can you write that down?” he asks, obviously forgetting what you just told him. You sigh, knowing how bad it would be if you got caught. Academic dishonesty would get you kicked off the cheer team. Despite your better judgment, you scribble the answer onto a spare sheet of binder paper and hand it to him.

Before he goes, you emphasize, “Please keep that hidden.” He nods in understanding, and his smile seems genuine when he thanks you. It’s just in time, too. The second he sits back down in his seat, your teacher returns. She eyes him suspiciously but doesn’t do anything. Instead, she begins to grade homework assignments.

On Monday, you hear him cheer as he’s handed back his test. The sound makes you smile. Eddie can be endearing when he wants to be. While Mrs. Williams begins her lecture about force, he comes to sit next to you. Grinning, he holds up his test in one hand, pointing to it with the other. “I got a D minus!” he exclaims before bowing his head, making his curls fall chaotically, “many thanks, my lady.”

You giggle at him, tilting your head, “You’re thanking me for a D minus?”

“Don’t laugh,” he chides, “Last year, I failed every single one of these damn tests.”

“I could’ve given you more answers,” you point out, “You could’ve gotten any grade you wanted.” Pulling out your test, you show him your perfect score.

He shakes his head, “Nah, Mrs. Williams would’ve been too suspicious. She’s already sensing a conspiracy cause I didn’t get an F.”

As is she sensed her name being spoken, your teacher whips around with her hands on her hips, “Eddie Munson! Why are you out of your seat? Stop bothering that poor girl.” Reluctantly, he returns to his seat and pretends to take notes. Satisfied, she stops looking at Eddie. You turn to grin at him, trying to contain your laughter. He looks proud as he smirks back.

Your relationship only grows from there. During lectures and free time, he sits next to you. At first, he only came over for last-minute answers to homework, but you’ve noticed a change in his behaviour. He’s started to pay attention and ask questions about the topics you’re learning. And, when you take notes, he asks to borrow them to look over.

During labs, he’ll abandon his assigned group to talk to you. Your group consists of one freshman and three sophomores, and you’re almost certain they’re afraid of him. Whenever he comes over, all four crowd the opposite side of the counter. It’s pretty comical, but you still feel bad for messing with underclassmen. Regardless of how your group acts towards him, the shift in his attitude is there. He participates in the experiments and helps your group record data while visiting rather than hanging around and wasting time.

His differences shine brightest when he receives his weekly quizzes. What were once F’s and D’s become high C’s and a few low B’s. Even Mrs. Williams has noticed his improvement. She held you back after class once to talk about it. “I don’t know how you’ve done it,” she’d said, “but that boy has never thrived as much as he has when he’s with you.” Throughout her speech about ‘allowing him to sit next to you’ so you can ‘tutor him in class,’ that single line stuck out to you.

You’ve tried to deny it for weeks, but you have a crush on him. It’s in the way he actually listens to you when you talk. The way he makes you laugh so hard you cry. The way he leaves ‘thank you’ notes in your locker after you help him study for a quiz. It’s in the way he smiles at you like you’re the only one in the room. He makes you feel like you’re worth more than the sun, the moon, and the stars.

He’s special, magical, ethereal, loved. You could use so many words to describe him, but they would never be enough.

It’s a feeling that you fight hard to control. You know what your friends would say if you told them about your feelings for “the Freak.” It feels like your heart is torn in two directions, and you don’t know which side to follow. When you’re with the cheer squad, you feel like you belong. These girls have been by your side for years now. You should stick to their side… right?

But then it’s 9:35, and you’re walking into second period. Your shoulders feel lighter, like a weight you carry everywhere is lifted momentarily. Then, he sits next to you, and you talk, and you laugh, and you’re free. For ninety minutes every day, you speak with no filter. It’s the only time you feel like your personality isn’t diluted for the sake of your social life.

Today is no different. You beam at Eddie when he steps through the door. He sits next to you and jokingly teases you about the doodles of your favourite flower, bluebells, in the margins of the notes he borrowed the day before. You’ve come to expect this playfulness from him. He points out the differences between you two, but he never makes you feel bad for it. He seems to like the contrast.

He holds up the note you left in his locker yesterday. You’d written, ‘Congrats on getting a C, Eddie! :)’ in sparkly pink gel pen. You wonder if it was too obvious. “I’m surprised you don’t dot your I’s with hearts,” he says with a slight mumble to his words, as if he doesn’t believe he’s admitting them out loud. Well, you certainly didn’t expect that.

“What?”

“Y’know. You’re so… cutesy. You draw flowers in the shapes of hearts on your notes, you write with colourful pens, and your handwriting is always so neat. I just think it would suit you, that’s all.”

And that’s all it takes. From then on, every single note passed is written with I’s that are dotted with hearts. You go out of your way to include I’s in your message. You even find reasons to leave notes in his locker so that you can draw hearts that you’re gifting to him on paper.

You’re so distracted by Eddie that you almost forget your birthday is coming. Instead of telling him in class, as you’d planned, you slip a note into his locker during passing period. Satisfied, you head to the lunch room to eat with your friends.

Eddie scoffs at Dustin’s nagging. Their classes before lunch are close, so Dustin tries to gain some extra knowledge about the next Hellfire session every day. Eddie assumes that he thinks he’s being subtle, but the attempts to interrogate are pretty blatant. Rolling his eyes, he opens his locker to get his lunchbox when a piece of paper flutters to the floor.

Eddie’s quick, but Dustin’s quicker, picking up the note and opening it. Eddie snatches it away with a glare, but now it’s Dustin’s turn to roll his eyes. “New message from your lady friend?” he inquires, “Y’know you’re not subtle about her at all.”

Eddie scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Mind your business, Henderson.” While walking, he grabs what he needs and stuffs the note in his pocket.

“Yea, right. That cheerleader has you wrapped around her finger. You’re whipped.” The second Dustin says ‘cheerleader,’ Eddie turns his head to examine the boy. How the hell did he know you were a cheerleader? Shaking his head, he opts to ignore the statement, going to find his seat at the head of the table instead.

The next 20 or so minutes fly by. For some reason, the freshmen are interested in stories about drunks from the band’s gigs, but it’s entertaining enough to fill the time until Eddie decides to sneak a glance your way. Bad idea. You’re so radiant that he can’t tear his eyes off of you. At least, not until Dustin opens his mouth.

“See? Whipped,” he says, looking around the table for support. Multiple people nod in agreement.

“Yea, man,” Lucas agrees, “you’ve got it bad.”

“No. No, no, no, no, no, no,” Eddie counters, “No. Freshmen do not get to give me shit about this, okay? Keep your mouths shut.”

Mike speaks up, “Why not? We have more girlfriends than everyone else in the club. We can be your wingmen.”

Eddie can feel his soul being ripped out of his body just from the thought of these kids trying to talk to a girl for him. “If I find out you twerps talked to her,” he begins seriously, pointing at all of them, “I will ban you from Hellfire for life.” They all collectively groan but don’t say anything more.

Leaning his forearms on the counter with his hands clasped together, Eddie can’t believe he’s here. It seems they can’t believe it either. Robin looks shocked, while Steve looks baffled and mildly concerned, “Really? You’re serious?”

Eddie huffs, “Can you please just help me?” As much as he hated to admit it, the freshmen were right. He needed help. The only people he could think of were Steve and Robin. After fighting a supernatural demon together, they should count as friends, right?

Steve persists, “You know she’s a cheerleader, right?” Eddie rolls his eyes in frustration, and Steve puts up his hands in surrender, “All right. I was just making sure, man.”

Robin decides to speak up before the two boys get into a fight, “What do you want the gift to mean?” Eddie furrows his brows, confused, so she clarifies, “Like, is this gift romantic? Platonic? Something else?”

“Um, romantic, I think,” he mumbles in response. Robin and Steve give each other a knowing look. Dustin comes in often to share gossip about his DM. They hadn’t believed him until Eddie came in today for some advice.

“What about jewelry?” Steve suggests.

Robin quickly shakes her head, “No, that costs too much.”

Steve counters, “Jewelry’s romantic, though.”

Robin scoffs at Steve’s obliviousness. “Sure, it’s romantic, but you need to think about it from her perspective. She’s humble. She wouldn’t accept a gift that costs too much,” she turns to Eddie, “has she mentioned things she likes when you guys have talked?”

Fishing in his pocket, Eddie finds the note from his locker. Placing it on the counter, the two lean forward to look at the paper, which reads: “Sorry i forgot to tell you in class, but my birthday is on Monday! i just thought you’d wanna know!” It’s written in the same signature sparkly pink gel pen with hearts replacing every dot on the paper, but it also has two bluebell stems drawn in the shape of a heart. Steve mumbles in shock, ‘I can’t believe it.’

“I know those are her favourite,” Eddie says, ignoring him and pointing to the drawing, “I just don’t know what they are.”

“Those are bluebells, which are the perfect gift,” Robin replies, motioning with her hands, “Get her a bouquet!”

Steve interjects, “Wait a minute, don’t flowers mean things? What if bluebells mean friendship or something worse?”

After realizing nobody knows what bluebells represent, Eddie sighs dejectedly and rubs his face with his hands. Robin glances at the clock before offering, “Our shift is almost over. Why don’t we go to the library and find out what they mean?” Steve makes a face because he’s her ride home, but she makes a face back and whispers, “It’s for love, Steve!”

Arriving at the library, they split up to find different books on the topic of flowers. After grabbing a few options, they meet back up at a table. Flipping through the pages, they eventually all find information on bluebells. “Mine says, ‘The bluebell is a symbol of humility and constancy,’” Robin reads.

Steve nods, “This book says they mean ‘gratitude.’”

“Bluebells represent everlasting love. They convey respect and unwavering devotion to a loved one,” Eddie adds, “So, they don’t mean anything bad.”

“This is great! Call a florist, and you’ll be good to go,” Steve advises.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, “yeah. It’ll be great.”

That Sunday night, you tell your family that you’ll be leaving early tomorrow morning. There’s a big game that night, and the cheer captain wants to meet to discuss the plan again. You’re excited to see your friends. You’d spent the entirety of Friday’s lunch rambling about your plans for your birthday. Your extended family is coming over for dinner for your nineteenth birthday. Yes, nineteen. Embarrassingly, you’d been held back in Kindergarten, but it never seemed to affect your life.

When you arrive at school, your friends don’t give you birthday wishes. It’s fine. It’s probably too early in the morning for them. They just aren’t awake yet. Subtly, you hint that today’s your birthday, but none of the girls pick up on it. Then, you try some more obvious statements, “You know, I heard it’s someone’s birthday today.”

There’s a little gasp, “Oh!” Your heart is elated; they finally remembered!

“Is it Jason?”

Just like that, it falls right back down.

“No, his was two months ago. It’s Patrick’s birthday. Remember, he said if the basketball team wins tonight, they’ll party because of the win, and if they lose, they’ll party because of his birthday.” They all begin to gossip, claiming that ‘he’s so selfless for not caring about his birthday.’ You listen in shock. Is it selfish to care about your birthday?

The question looms over your head like a dark cloud. As you go from the football field to calculus to physics, it brings down your mood. You fiddle with the hem of your uniform’s skirt as you zone out of Mrs. Williams’ lecture. You’d hoped at least Eddie would say something, but it’s been almost the entire period, and he hasn’t even come over. It only makes you feel even worse.

Meanwhile, Eddie is agonizing over what to do. You’re obviously upset; he’d have to be blind not to see it. He wants to go over and tell you happy birthday, then make the whole class sing for you, but he stops himself. He doesn’t want to ruin the surprise he has planned. Scribbling on a piece of paper, he folds it up and throws it to you.

The note lands next to you, and you go to look at Eddie, but he’s already turned back to his paper. Opening it, you see ‘why are you sad?’ written on the page. With a sigh, you write your response and throw it back. He unfurls it to see, ‘I’m just tired’ written in pencil. There are no hearts, smiley faces, or doodles, and it breaks his heart. He decides to tell you ‘happy birthday,’ but it’s too late. The bell has rung, and you’re rushing out of the classroom faster than he’s ever seen you walk. Clenching his fists, he chastises himself for being such an idiot.

Your next period goes about as well as the first two. You feel like a walking corpse when you sit in the cafeteria. Part of you wonders if you should just tell your friends it’s your birthday. But would they really mean it if they had to be point-blank told? Would it be selfish to ask them for acknowledgment? It’s not like you’re asking them for a gift, but one single ‘happy birthday’ would be nice. But, if they had cared, wouldn’t they have remembered? Your inner turmoil consumes you, so you spend the entire lunch looking down and pushing food around your tray.

Eddie watches you mess with your food from afar. The guilt is killing him, and he’s making no efforts to hide it. Everyone at the table is uncomfortably aware of his pining. “Okay, this is weird,” Dustin speaks up, “You gotta go talk to her. You’re like a trainwreck in human form.”

“Watch your tone, Henderson,” is the only retort that Eddie can muster at the moment. Gathering his things, he goes to leave, “I’m ditching. I’ll be back for Hellfire.” Getting off campus is surprisingly easy. They never lock the gates. Throwing his things in the passenger seat of his van, he sits in the driver’s seat and groans, annoyed with himself. Driving away, he heads home to distract himself until he can pick up the flowers.

At the game, you struggle to be optimistic enough. Doing cheers and smiling big is hard when you feel like shit. Multiple people have asked if you’re okay, but you just tell them you’re tired, your chosen excuse of the day. The minutes seem to crawl by when all you want to do is go home. The thought of your birthday party with your family is the only reason you’re not sobbing at the moment.

You stay behind to help the leadership kids and the sparse volunteers clean up when the game is over. Your class president told you it’s okay to leave if you’re exhausted, but you’ve always stayed after games. It’s nice to help out your school, even in small ways. It helps to feel like you’re a part of a community.

With the trash swept up and the bleachers pushed back, everyone files out the doors and into the parking lot. It’s dark when you step out into the cool night, but you’re glad. Tears roll down your cheeks the second you don’t have a task to complete. Stepping off to the side, you watch as everyone leaves, including the Hellfire club. Seeing them makes your heart ache more. You can’t believe Eddie didn’t remember. You’d written him a note and everything.

You don’t want to cry in front of your family, so you try to get everything out now. Anyways, driving while crying is a bad idea. It’s fine, you’re fine, you try and convince yourself. It’s not working that well.

Glancing up, you see a figure walking toward you. Thinking it’s a security guard, you dust yourself off and try to look presentable. They’ll probably tell you to go home. Looking up again, you realize that it’s “Eddie?” He’s walking with his hands behind his back, eyes watching his feet nervously.

“Hi,” he says softly, stopping a few feet before you, “I got these for you. Happy birthday.” He brings the prettiest bouquet you’ve ever seen from behind his back. It’s primarily bluebells with baby’s breath lining the outsides. The stems are tied together with a pastel blue bow.

You take them, perplexed, “I thought you left with your club?”

He shakes his head, “No, I just went to grab these. Sorry if they’re fucked up, I had to leave them in my van during Hellfire, and some of the petals are squished, and-”

While he’s rambling, you notice a card stuck in the ribbon. Pulling it out, your lower lip trembles as your tears start falling again. Eddie’s messy handwriting is scrawled in red ink, but that’s not what draws your attention. Every single I is dotted with a heart, even down to the exclamation mark.

‘For the prettiest cheerleader in the world galaxy,

Happy birthday!

Love, Eddie’

“No! They’re absolutely perfect,” you hope the emotion in your words is enough to convey how you feel.

He finally looks at your face and whispers, “Are you crying?” but you ignore him and carry on.

“I love them so much, thank you!” You wrap your arms around him and cry into his chest, mindful of the flowers. He holds you until you stop and pull away, “I’m sorry. It’s just… this is the first time someone’s said happy birthday to me all day.”

He looks concerned, “What about your friends?” You scrunch your nose and shake your head, frowning at the memory. He frowns too, “God, they don’t deserve you.”

Staring straight into his eyes so close creates a thick cloud of tension. You need to know you’re not the only one feeling it, “Did you mean what you wrote on the card? When you said ‘love’?”

Timidly, he breaks eye contact and begins to ramble again, “Yea, I did. Robin, Steve, and I went to the library to find out what bluebells represent, and it turns out it’s eternal love. Then, when I called the florist, they said that baby’s breath also means eternal love, so it, y’know, fit…” His words trail off when you lean closer with a smile. Getting the hint, he cups your cheeks with his hands. Gently, you press your lips to his. The kiss is so soft and warm that it sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. When you pull away, he’s beaming at you while you laugh at his boyish grin.

“I think that was the best birthday present I’ve ever got.”

“You think?” he demands, exaggerating his offended look, “No, that won’t do. C’mere.” He pulls you back in for another kiss, and this time, you tell him, ‘I know.’

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #fluff #light angst #my writing #request

573 notes · View notes

loving-n0t-heyting · 8 months

Note

Here's a question that I think you might be uniquely well-positioned among those I know to answer: from the purview of philosophy, what do you think of the general focus within mathematics on first-order logic?

The context for this is as follows: my mathematical logic class in undergrad was taught by a model theorist, and thus had a generally model theoretic flair. Once we established the basics of propositional logic, FOL, deductive systems and so on, we spent the rest of the class focusing on the model theory of FOL, IIRC mostly stuff of relevance to algebra rather than things of relevance to philosophy or foundations of math or so on.

I remember remarking to a friend who was taking that class with me "this is not really what I thought logic would be like!" or something like that, and he said to me the following (paraphrased), which really stuck with me: "I feel like FOL, whatever it is, can't really be the foundation of math or of reasoning in any meaningful sense. Rather, it feels like what we're doing in this class is constructing an elaborate Rube Goldberg machine that behaves like the 'true' foundational logic of math, whatever that is, in important ways. It's very messy and unnatural, but it's useful because we've constructed it in a way that allows us to study it, and which lets us gain insight about axioms and provability and so on". And I remember thinking, yeah, that's totally on the money.

The word "foundation" in the above paragraph is used in a nontechnical sense; of course FOL can't literally be a foundational theory, because it is not in itself a theory. But it's the logic that most attempts at foundations are articulated in, etc.

Everything I've thought about logic since then has mostly served to confirm what my friend said to me. For instance, I remember reading a MathOverflow post a long time ago discussing why mathematicians so often use FOL, and the general consensus answer seemed to be "the model theory of FOL is much nicer than the model theory of higher-order logics". This lines up closely with what my friend said, and also the general vibe I got from taking that class (which was that the model theory of FOL is certainly very nice).

FOL, like most logical systems used in mathematics, is also built on a formal language made of strings of symbols. The syntax of FOL (although this is by no means unique to FOL) looks awfully inspired by the syntax of the Western European languages its creators spoke. I have to imagine that a system of formal logic designed in Japan or by the Incas or some such would be shaped completely differently. Now, I also think that this doesn't matter very much—it's easy to construct a "head-final" version of FOL, which I imagine Japanese mathematicians would probably have done, and show that it's perfectly equivalent to the FOL we have. And you can rebuild FOL on a language of abstract trees instead of strings of symbols if you so desire, and you don't have to give the symbols any order at all, and it's perfectly equivalent.

So this historical contingency in the syntax of FOL doesn't matter mathematically, but I've always found it philosophically bothersome. First on the principled grounds that math and science should be made as culturally neutral as possible. But also on the grounds that in some sense it is one more fact that confirms what my friend said to me: the whole construction of FOL, with sets of strings, terms and formulas and free variables, etc. etc., is further revealed to be a kind of historically contingent Rube Goldberg contraption. It bugs me, for better or worse (and maybe it's just inescapable) that we study logic by way of such a contraption!

The final fact that make me something of a FOL-disliker (I admit my bias now, deep into the message) is learning that the second-order Peano Axioms are categorical—they have a unique model—and this model has a large number of nice properties, like being the free object on one generator in a certain category and so on and so forth. But first-order Peano Arithmetic is not categorical, there are non-standard models of PA which do not accord with our intuitions about N. This makes me feel really uneasy about FOL: if the natural numbers, the most fundamental object in all of math, can't even be appropriately captured by FOL, why are we using it?

And the answer again seems to be half practical, half historical: 1) the model theory is very nice, so FOL is easy to work in, and 2) FOL is old and people have been using it for a long time, and it has reached consensus status as the default system in which to do mathematical logic things, unless you have some good reason to use a different system.

And honestly, I don't think those are bad reasons at all. But they are very practical reasons, down to earth and divorced from the lofty philosophical goal of Understanding The True Nature Of Reasoning.

But my knowledge on this is really entirely on the math side. I have not actually read any of the philosophy around this, and you seem pretty familiar with it. What do the philosophers think about FOL? Do they like it? Are they bothered by its historical contingency? I imagine that philosophers might be less concerned with the practical and mathematical matters that lead people to use FOL. In light of that, are their views different?

Obviously I know philosophy is huge and diverse, I just feel like you might have an interesting perspective on this.

Anyway, uh, yeah. Sorry if this is ridiculously long. No pressure to answer this if you don't feel like it.

so ill say to begin that you are right that the centrality of first-order theories in mathematical foundations is as much as anything an accident of history and a matter of pragmatics as much as deep truths about the nature of logic and reason. at the advent of modern logic, frege was not wedded in this way to 1st order languages in foundations, and his exposition of his begriffschrift remains a classic in the study of the meaningfulness of higher order languages. first order theories came to prominence as the foundational crisis unfolded in large part bc they were the first to receive a rigorous metalogic, and much exciting work in contemporary mathematics has looked to type theoretic alternatives, as in the "univalent foundations" programme. there was no deep inner necessity reflected in this historical progression

that said, i think at least some of the complaints you are making dont really stand up to scrutiny. to begin, i think the qualms about eurocentrism are smth of a red herring: not only is it simply untrue that those responsible in the period of the foundational crisis for our contemporary understanding of the fundamentals of mathematical logic were overwhelmingly native speakers of "western european" languages (this ignores the many vital contributions of polish logicians at the time), like you say the level at which that would have any significance is purely notational. if mathematicians interested in foundations have a "canonical" "official" logical notation it woulkd be łukasiewicz (or "polish") notation, which in syntax resembles no extant human natural language but is useful for certain bookkeeping purposes. i dont think anyone treats the sort of PM-like infix notation you presumably have in mind with anything like the reverence that would give you any reason to worry

second, i think you are much more impressed than you should be by the "categoricity" of 2nd order PA. the models for classical first order theories have a special significance precisely bc of the model theoretic results you are alluding to: 1st and foremost, focl is sound and complete with respect to that class of models, which directly links model existence results to consistency results. its not as tho there are these very independently interesting mathematical objects called "models of classical fol", about which we then were lucky enough to learn the additional fact that they are complete wrt focl. we care about this class bc we care about the logic to which these results connect it. things are otherwise wrt the class of models you have in mind for 2nd order languages: there are no such completeness results to be had, making their connection to and significance for sol much weaker than those with first order models and first order logic. you could, if you wanted, cook up some definition of a "model" for fol on which the peano axioms would fix some unique such "model", but this gives us no particular reason to find this pseudo-categoricity very interesting. it would be as much as anything an artefact of yr definitions. now this is not to suggest that the full models of classical second order logic are a wholly artificial construction of no intrinsic interest, that is going too far, but counting it as a "virtue" of 2nd order PA over 1st order PA that the former unlike the latter is "categorical" is to some degree a fallacy of equivocation: the existence of such a model does not mean the same thing as the existence of a unique such fom, in particular bc the latter would require as the former does not the syntactic completeness of the relevant theory

on that note: it is misleading to describe the failure of first order peanpo arithmetic to pin down a unique model as a defect of fol or 1st order PA. the reason for the existence of nonstandard models is the profound matter of the incompleteness results, which hold for any (humanly articulable) axiomatic theory of the natural numbers of sufficient strength, 1st order 2nd order ith order no order. and ofc, for classes of models (like the appropriately defined general/henkin models) of 2nd order logic for which soundness and completeness results are forthcoming, second order PA accordingly admits of nonstandard models itself. if theres a perversion anywhere in the existence of nonstandard models, its in the nature of arithmetic itself, not in first order logic with its standard model theory specifically

more generally, im not entirely clear what you mean by finding fol wanting as "the 'true' foundational logic of math, whatever that is"? dym you dont think its whats going on deep in the thoughts of the working mathematician? no doubt, tho idt anyone serious has ever claimed as much. that it is not, relatedly, a perspicuous presentation of the underlying Architecture of Reason, if there is such a thing? that certainly is implausible, and ig a lot of undergrad profs start out classes with bold pronouncements of that sort, but i think these are best understood as a combination of a hook to entice students to keep up their attendance in pursuit of deep wisdom and a self-directed pep talk for the instructor to motivate another semester spent on one of the drier topics of theirs on which to educate college sophomores. but perhaps im missing yr real meaning

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

anyway tho you asked about the place of fol in philosophy, which ig ive been avoiding. and again yr right, theres a really considerable breadth of literature on this topic, which i can only really gesture at here and of which my knowledge is only partial. but in broad and highly selective strokes:

at the inception of what would come to be called "analytic philosophy", the vienna positivists (following the lead of their colleagues working in mathematical foundations, and of ludwig wittgenstein, who in the tractatus which exercised such foundational influence upon the circle accorded the classical first order predicate calculus a kind of mystical, quasi-religious significance) by and large took up a very enthusiastic attitude towards first order theories. this was ofc a departure from their august forebear, frege, whose high order outlook i have already commented on. much of this enthusiasm also lacked the model theoretic flavour that would dominate among many of their successors, likely in no small part bc the relevant lines of mathematical inquiry had yet to fully percolate. this would eventually shift among philosophers of science in the tradition, as syntactic approaches to the most current physical theories began to prove less tractable than model theoretic alternatives

this privileged position for first order theories was, alas, to be inherited by the great american bete noir of the logical positivists, quine, who more than anyone else in the anglophone philosophical community contributed to the discredit of the movement and served to more generally set the agenda for midcentury analytic philosophy. quine seems to have taken there to be smth more "scientific" about such first order approaches to various domains, and in this he was followed by many in his so largely regrettable wake; one can see this prejudice on display, as a particularly vivid and historically significant example, in the prefatory comments in david lewis' "counterpart theory and quantified modal logic". second order logic in particular was the subject of some influential potshots of quines, to the effect that second order quantification over properties was nothing more than a needlessly roundabout facon de parler for (fundamentally 1st order) quantification over a particular sort of object, viz. sets. and smths that should not have been forgotten were lost

what is perhaps most shocking, even during the reemergence (much to quines chagrin) of modal thinking among analytic philosophers, this sea change was carried out largely under the auspices of an austerely first-order worldview. i have already mentioned lewis' deference in his writings on modality to the quinean appetite for first orderism, and lewis was second in the revival of modal thought only to kripke, whose principal contribution was precisely a means of reducing many modal logics to first-order extensional theories. Even as suspicion of modal operators as primitive has dissipated, the view of first order quantification as somehow more perspicuous and aboveboard has largely lingered

even in the midcentury, however, there were still philosophers of a logical bent disinclined to this privileging of first order quantification. arthur prior is my prime example, and his openness to theorising in overtly and non-reductionistically higher order terms has had significant influence on the renaissance in the past decade to such higher order treatment of various philosophical topics and problems. leading the way has been timothy williamson at oxford, and many of his students, who have tried to present such framings as intelligible and philosophically illuminating in their own right. this is a nice example. this is a project to which i am very sympathetic

#ask #max1461

43 notes · View notes

subliminalbo · 6 months

Text

Hypnovember Day 10: Futurum

This is a sequel to The Conditioning Initiative

Corbin got a lot of tips for her crime blog, but few were as massive as the one about Futurum. For years, Futurum had been something of a Romero mystery. What exactly did applied science mean? If Corbin had to guess, the shady corporation was developing weapons for the government. They kept their projects secret and their employees silent with aggressive NDAs. Of the ones willing to talk to Corbin, none even knew what they were working on, admitting that Futurum delivered work orders to engineers with purposely stingy context.

That was too interesting not to chase before she received the email. And then one day Corbin opened her Outlook to find the message: an internal memo detailing The Conditioning Initiative—Futurum’s top secret research into mind control, real MKUltra stuff. Definitely the kind of thing the government would be interested in.

“Fuck,” Corbin whispered as she scrolled through pages of names and processes.

The Conditioning Initiative had started out small, recruiting from a pool of remote Carpenter State interns. After successful trials, the initiative was expanded to Grade E employees—people leaders who would in turn oversee further expansion of the initiative to Grades D, C, B, and A, moving down the chain until all of the working class associates at Futurum had been conditioned.

All of this was confirmed and detailed by Corbin’s source. Stephanie Mason was a manager at Futurum who had grown disgruntled when she discovered upper management’s plans to expand The Conditioning Initiative to every employee. She explained that she had reservations when she learned about the research, but had ultimately assumed that common sense and human rights would win out.

“But every day there was a new spreadsheet on my desk,” Stephanie recalled to Corbin. “Productivity numbers. That’s all they kept talking about: ‘Look at these productivity numbers!’”

“That’s all this is about?” Corbin asked.

“Time theft has been a concern in office spaces for years,” Stephanie replied. “My bosses believe they can transform the workforce into perfect laborers, singularly focused. It really is something. I mean, it’s spooky to see people work like that.”

“In my experience, mind control conspiracies tend to be a bit more…sexually motivated,” Corbin said, crossing her legs as she spoke.

“Not at Futurum,” Stephanie shook her head. “It’s all about the bottom line.”

Corbin recognized the bravery it took for Stephanie to come to her. Even having a coffee in public, she was taking an incredible risk. Corbin caught her mistake when she noticed Stephanie’s eyes darting back and forth around the cafe. She promised that next time they met she would choose a location that was a bit more suited to clandestine meetings.

But it was Stephanie who arranged the next meeting, texting Corbin the address to the anonymous motel in River City with a room number. The motel rented by the hour and was a popular spot for secret hookups and sex work. Corbin thought it was appropriately clandestine, but when Stephanie greeted her wearing nothing but a bath towel, she got the feeling that Stephanie had more than just new information to offer.

“Just caught me getting out of the shower,” Stephanie laughed.

Corbin tried not to ogle too much, but she was already crushing on Stephanie after their first meeting, and seeing her now like this was only making it worse.

“Make yourself a drink,” Stephanie pointed toward the little minibar. “I’m just going to change real quick.”

When Stephanie disappeared behind the bathroom door, Corbin opened the mini fridge to find it full of small bottles of alcohol which she assumed Stephanie had stocked herself. Planning for a fun night, she thought.

“I was surprised when you got back to me so quickly,” Corbin said, raising her voice to project through the bathroom door. She twisted the cap on a bottle of Smirnoff and took a swig. “I thought you’d want to play it safe and lay low for a bit before jumping back into…”

Stephanie had exited the bathroom, but she hadn’t changed her clothes. Instead, she dropped the towel before Corbin, exposing her nude body to her. Corbin exhaled. “Stephanie…” she said.

“Do you like what you see?” Stephanie asked.

It had occurred to Corbin that Stephanie was too good to be true. The inside woman with intimate knowledge of her company’s brainwashing conspiracy was the kind of trap that Corbin had learned to look for. No more mistakes, Corbin had resolved with herself after everything with the Alphas. But goddamn, she really did like what she saw.

Corbin set her bottle down on top of the fridge. “When did they get to you? Was it a trap all along? Futurum was hardly on my radar before you came to me.”

It was like Corbin could see Stephanie’s personality melt away in real time, the giggling Stephanie who had greeted her in a bath towel simply a facade that hid the fine-tuned automaton underneath. Stephanie was right: it was spooky. That vacant expression, her mouth hanging loose as she spoke slowly and deliberately to Corbin.

“The correspondence was an aberration in No.33’s programming,” Stephanie said. “Appropriate measures were taken to recondition this subject. Do you like what you see?”

Ohhh fuck, referring to herself in the third person and everything. It was like Futurum had a dossier on Corbin and knew which buttons to push. Seeing Stephanie go full robot woman brought some serious flashbacks for Corbin. She still hadn’t fully recovered from the months she spent as one of Madison Wells’ brainwashed Alphas. She couldn’t help but see a bit of herself in Stephanie, that part of her that, no matter how hard she fought, would always want to submit.

Stephanie approached Corbin slowly, repeating, “Do you like what you see?”

Corbin nodded her head yes. When Stephanie reached her in the middle of the room, she pressed her lips to Corbin’s, and Corbin kissed back. Stephanie’s tongue was warm in her mouth. Corbin was already so wet. Futurum really couldn’t have pulled this shit at a worse time for her. It had been so long that she was completely folding to Stephanie’s advances.

“What’s the plan here?” Corbin asked as she pulled her shirt over her head. “Futurum gets me laid and I’m supposed to be so thankful that I don’t write about it?”

“I am bound by my NDA to refrain from discussing Futurum business with non-authorized individuals,” Stephanie said.

Corbin’s bra dropped to the floor. The pair moved to the bed, Stephanie flicking her tongue over Corbin’s nipples as her fingers rolled her clit. Corbin’s Alpha instincts took over, pleading and moaning like the horny slut Madison had trained her to be. It was bad. It was so fucking bad.

When Corbin reached what Stephanie determined was optimum arousal, Stephanie repositioned herself between Corbin’s legs.

“Fuck, that’s hot!” Corbin cried when Stephanie’s face sank into her soaking pussy. Corbin had cum to the tongues of a dozen Alphas, her own brainwashing being a days-long session under the visor as Madison’s best slaves took turns assaulting Corbin’s clit. But Corbin had never felt anything like Stephanie’s tongue. It was a tireless assault of pleasure, starting slow but strong and picking up speed as she went, building to the most efficient orgasm Corbin had ever felt.

She didn’t open her eyes again until she felt the small sting on her forehead.

No more mistakes.

“Oh,” Corbin said, recognition coming to her slowly and fading fast with the rest of her free will. The small device that Stephanie pressed to Corbin’s forehead would only subdue her, but by the time Corbin’s mind returned to the conscious world she would already be strapped to a chair in a Futurum conditioning room.

#hypnokink #brainwashed #mind control #hypnotized #oc: corbin arroyo #covert hypnosis #mind conditioning #hypnovember

22 notes · View notes

izicodes · 8 months

Note

Don't know if you've touched on this topic before, but do you have any advice on dealing with discrimination within comp sci (specifically sexism)? I have bad anxiety and have constant thoughts telling me how I'll never be good enough or don't belong. My brother who is a senior dev has had a passion for computers since a small child while I just developed an interest within the past two years. My family takes his career seriously but then turn around and tell me how great of a secretary I'll be lol. Thanks for your time!

Hiya 💗

Just some background on me: I haven't had any sexist experiences in during my whole journey of learning software development during my apprenticeship and now working as a Junior Web Dev. I'm the only girl in the Dev team (6 of us in total), the only other woman is the Manager of the Dev team but she does databases + business oriented work so she doesn't code at all. I'm the youngest in the team also so they see me as "oh let's teach the kid of the group" kind of thing. So at work I don't feel any type of sexism, the lads are really open to teach me a lot stuff which I am thankful!

I don't know any other irl developers besides work so I'll move on to online. Online I know a lot more women developers; Tumblr, YouTube, Instagram and Twitter (or X whatever it's called). Maybe it's because I've like cultured the content I see to them idk. I'm really glad to have that constantly on my timeline as it inspires me to push and do/become better because if those girlies can do it, so can I.

Though all the teachers/instructors I had were all men, they didn't make me feel small or not worthy to be in Computer Science, they were the opposite and pushed me to do it more. My Dad did Computer Science with CyberSecurity at university and he always pushed me to do computer science when I got older - not force but inspired me to do it (wanted to do medicine but too hard so switched to comp sci/programming)!

So, in my experience, I never had a really bad sexist interaction because I did computer science. People are shocked I am in programming in general but more like "Oooooh that's cool! Didn't know you did that!" kind of thing!

Now, this doesn't mean I haven't seen sexist remarks online, because I have but more through memes. I always ignore. Everyone, man or woman, should ignore such remarks/meme and move on. Don't let a bunch of people determine what you want and what's best for you! If you did, they would be controlling your life and not you yourself.

I don't know if that's easier said than done for you because I'm a hard person on people saying bad things to me. I just ignore you literally. I'm polite yes, but what you will say to me will go through one ear and out the other if it's really negative. Pretty much a "I don't care about your opinion, I will do me anyways" kind of person. E.g. if my brothers were to tell me "oh you a girl, don't do computer science" I won't listen to them at all.

And at the end of the day, what are they gonna do? Will your family members that are saying those stuff to you physically stop you from learning computer science? Especially since it's so accessible online so all you need a is a computer? All around the world, women are leaning computer science one way or another to change their lives and/or the lives around them.

They are making so much effort so for me to say "oh well.. you know some lads in my comp sci class say I can't do comp sci so I shouldn't" or "oh well I don't think learning programming is a woman's thing yknow because it's so dominated by men" - excuse my language here but that's flipping ridiculous!

This isn't some feminist or even anti-feminist thing here, it's a plain simple human thing: proving yourself and even the people around you wrong. Go into it and succeed. You're not too old or too young.

Why are their programs like SheCodes or BGIT (black girl in tech) that are making effort to help women push into tech? There's more women in tech now than there has been ever so if you're a woman and want to go into Tech but some lads are saying no? Do it anyways.

If a company has lads like that in them, that's the company's fault for hiring a sexist non-team player - says a lot about that company.

As humans we are never good enough so just get that out of your mind, less stress. Good enough for a job? all you got to do is keep going out it. Keep learning the theory, keep building the projects, keep redoing your resume and applying for jobs - keep going.

You quit, you let yourself down - especially when programming/ computer science is your calling!

I went on a bit of a rant but I hope some of this helps 🥳👍🏾💗

#my asks #codeblr #coding #progblr #programming #studying #studyblr #comp sci #tech #programmer #computer science

21 notes · View notes

babacontainsmultitudes · 5 months

Text

15 Questions for 15 People

@locke-n-k3y thanks for the tag :] ah hm tbh I feel like my answers for these might be a bit boring but let's see...

1. Are you named after anyone?

Yes! (Referring to my legal name- which I still use), I was named after a character from the soap opera "General Hospital" haha.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Last week lol- which was... The first time in a couple months? It was nice but not enough.

3. Do you have kids?

Absolutely not. Never lol.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

Never did any sports outside of gym class! Not formally, anyways. I do workout (mostly strength/weight training) fairly regularly... But I don't think that really counts here lol. :0 Been thinking a lot lately about picking up boxing.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Yup! irl I often go for a sort of deadpan delivery of my sarcasm- what I've learned from other people is that I'm a little too good at that (I sometimes say very ridiculous things very convincingly). I won't usually specify unprompted that I'm being sarcastic, but you're always welcome to ask. Not as sarcastic online in general, however.

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Irl? Hmm. Hard to say. Maybe: eyes, voice, posture.

Online? Typing/texting style I suppose!

7. What's you're eye color?

Dark brown 👁

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Not mutually exclusive lol. But, happy endings. I don't "dislike" tragedies but I'm not actively drawn to them either.

9. Any talents?

HM. I mean obviously I have things I'm good at but I'm never quite sure what differentiates a "talent" from a "skill". I suppose a lot of friends have said something to the effect of me being "good at reading minds" haha- also "good at explaining things" which is debatable but sweet lol.

10. Where were you born?

Halifax! Which I feel fine saying cause I haven't lived there for a long time lol. A foggy fishing city that I miss even now.

11. What are your hobbies?

I guess a large chunk of what I do on this blog counts as hobbies? Writing (whether it's fiction or analysis or shitposts), drawing, audio clipping and editing apparently (though much of that I just keep to myself- same for drawing tbh). :] I've also gotten into making iron-on patches. Tabletop and video games for sure but... Neither as much as I'd like these days. I tend to collect a lot of things as well- most notably coins.

12. Do you have any pets?

I've had MANY pets of many different species- but currently just my cat Bok! I do tend to take care of my older sister's bunny a lot too though.

13. How tall are you?

5'4, which all my 6'0 friends love teasing me over 😒. I've been told that I "seem taller from the way [I] carry myself", however. (Despite everything, I'm actually fine with my height!)

14. Favorite subject in school?

When I was completing my bachelor's (in computer science) I was particularly drawn to graphics-related stuff! In highschool my fave was definitely drama haha (gee I miss it tbh).

15. What is your dream job?

I HAVE NO IDEA no idea and that's kind of my issue rn tbh. Plenty of things that seem interesting, but I don't think I'm the kind of person who could have the same job for my whole life, no matter how perfect it is. I'll presumably end up in something programming-related eventually, though it's not what I'm looking for now. OH OKAY ACTUALLY dream job? Probably doing video essays (or possibly let's plays) on Youtube haha.

15 PEOPLE IS A LOT OF PEOPLE TO TAG AND I ALWAYS FEEL SO SHY TAGGING PEOPLE IN GAMES and I have no idea who's been tagged already ahaha UM NO PRESSURE WHATSOEVER!!! @llumimoon @happi-tree @kaseyskat @abeinginsand @nolassolace @goldturnedgray @swiffin @insomaniiiac @meiwks @calamity-unlocked @coolfire333 @supremely-unsupervised @b1gwings @giraffeskull There! 15! Tried to get a few new people in there lol. But fr no stress!

#tag games #Thanks again for the tag locke!

8 notes · View notes

spidercrusadersworld · 5 months

Note

hiii!! I'm here to ask about Maya🕵🏽

I'm curious about her age, since she was married and had a job at some stage which is really cool!! I keep forgetting that point and imagining she's like.. 18 which I'm not sure is right😅 unless maya and jade were like child prodigies or something🤔

SPEAKING OF JADE, how did the 2 meet? who asked out who? who proposed? what was their wedding and wedding outfits like👀👀

(unrealted: I'm kinda curious what maya and fern's (my spidersona) dynamic would be like if they ever met. they're both characters who suffer through a lot of grief and idk I think it would be interesting)

sorry for the word vomit🏃🏽‍♀️

That’s a good question! To be honest, when I made Maya’s backstory, I never actually considered what age she would be. But in my mind, the education system in Mayas universe is different, as well as the average age of employment and marriage. Keep in mind, Maya is not Married, but she was engaged. (Tho I don’t blame you for thinking that I’m pretty sure at one point I said she was married)

So I imagine that high school is instead of further learning, taking notes, ect, it’s hands on learning applying what you’ve learned. In Mayas universe, elementary school is very effective, it covers most high school topics, of course there are more traditional schools that students can choose to go to, but they mean that you are less likely to get a steady job, most people go to those kinds of schools, but some, like maya, found the thought of the hands on experience, more beneficial than sitting in a desk all day writing stuff down. But to be honest, most people who go to “schools for higher education” are forced to by parents. In these high schools, you are given an option of three subjects you excelled at in elementary, and you get to choose the one you are the most passionate about.

For maya that was biological sciences. Where she was partnered with Jade at age fourteen Both of them chose to go to the schools of higher education, and had seen each other around there elementary school for higher education. Maya may or may not have had a major crush on Jade, but never said anything due to social anxiety. But when given the option to choose a lab partner, Jade b-lined to maya.

Maya assumed it was for any other reason than the fact that she had any positive emotions towards maya, and often lost sleep wondering why a popular, smart, cute NO CAPABLE girl, would choose an anxiety ridden mess like her, over all the other popular and smart guys in the class.

Jade was very outgoing, and was very good at reading people. Maya was quiet and curious. So when Maya was thinking of something but was to nervous to say it, Jade could get her to say it, not in a forceful way, in a natural way, that made her feel heard and valued. And when Jade would go rambling on with theory’s Maya would be right there with her, admiring her innovating and different way of thinking. I wouldn’t be wrong to say that they where perfect for each other. You really couldn’t blame Maya for developing feelings.

One day Maya really wanted to ask Jade out on a date. Jade could tell something was up, so she as usual, encouraged maya to get it off her chest, and was quite pleasantly surprised when Maya had very nervously (she found her tripping over her words very cute and endearing) asked her out on a date. And she said yes.

So they went out, on a date to get bubble tea, and they hit. It. Off! they have many common interest, and on the walk back home, when passing the alchemax building, they see large vibrantly coloured spider, spinning a glowing web. Jade getting curious, trappes the spider in a container, and is about to poke holes in it, when they see it jutting out solid sharp, almost needle like strands of webbing, to poke out holes itself.

That is what finally gets maya to agree to take it back to the lab for further observation. The high schools for higher education are different, due to the fact that, if your project gets noticed by someone, they might ask to hire you and have your project funded in a better place with better equipment for further studies. Meaning that you can graduate early and continue being employed for doing your field of study.

And that’s exactly what happened with Jade and maya. Just over three months after finding the spider, they where payed top dollar to continue researching it under employment at Alchemax. It was more than either of them could ever dare hope for, so of course they took the job. And at fifteen years old they where both official employees at the most prestigious scientific lab in the UKA (United Kingdoms of America). Their official tittle being Bioharmonic Alchemist (remember all science and math sounds like magic in her universe)

They continued to date for four years, Jade was working on the bus since she was thirteen, and after meeting Maya they started to work on it together, by the age of eighteen it was finally finished. so at the age of nineteen Maya proposed to Jade in the forest, amongst all the colossal trees, she said yes. Maya got bit the Jade died when she was just under the age of twenty, and by the time the stories start with Peter, she is twenty two and a half. BOOM TIMELINE.

As for fern, it’s hard to find her whole narrative by looking on your page, could you maybe give me a run down of her character so far, just so that I can see it all in one place (and assume I will draw the two of them together lol) anyway thank you so much for asking, any more questions are TOTALLY welcome! I love sharing Mayas story with people! I know it’s HELLA LONG so I thought I would leave it here and then go into fern later, if you could reblog this with a rundown of her backstory, personality, lore, abilities, likes and dislikes ect, I would love to go into further detail about her relationship, sorry this took so long btw!

#spidersona #across the spiderverse #spider man #spider man across the spider verse #spider sona #spiderverse fanart #spider man oc #spiderman into the verse #into the spider verse #ask me anything #ask #oc stuff

7 notes · View notes

slutforstabbings-archive · 1 year

Note

as promised, i am here to enquire about your thoughts on corey's school days !! 👀💗

in general, i know he wasn't popular by a long shot, but I don't think he was the least popular kid in his grade. i can see him muddling along somewhere in the middle. honestly, what i wouldn't give to know about his friends and what he did at lunch and who he spoke to in class.

you mentioned him working really hard in math and science (very much agree), and i feel like he was above average across the board. he didn't make valedictorian, but he had a very good GPA.

Corey Cunningham School HC's

~Social stuff~

I definitely agree that Corey was not at all popular but not super isolated either.

I can't do anything halfway so please enjoy this visual aid lol

Specifically I think that Corey probably has like 3 or 4 friends who he never ever hangs out with outside of school but spends all his time at school with - and probably only one of them is like, a true friend. Like, someone that Corey actually likes and feels close to and can kinda talk to about what goes on at home. Maybe that kid also has a fucked up home life so he Gets It.

At least one of the other three is a kid that Corey would never be friends with in a million years, except somehow they got attached to each other, maybe they had to do a project together and they got to know each other pretty well but not in a good way. But Corey doesn't know how to get rid of this kid, and kinda doesn't feel like he can afford to anyway - he hates this kid but the kid seems to like Corey, and Corey's been so conditioned to think that he's hard to love, his mom is always talking about how she's the only one who could ever love him the right way, he can't give someone who likes him the boot, so they're just stuck being friends.

And the other 1-2 are like, the other kid who likes westerns a lot, or the other kid with a weird kinda dark sense of humor, some simultaneously strong yet tenuous connection like that.

Also like... I think of Corey as a pretty masculine dude but I think he's got some Gender Stuff happening that he himself is not aware of or dealing with (as we've discussed lol) so I think he would probably prefer to have mostly female or lgbtq friends. Emphasis on PREFER lol I don't think he actually has any female friends unless he's friends with like, a Kinsey 6 lesbian, because I think he's also kinda girl crazy and he just can't risk catching feelings because Momma would not Have It, as he learned when she freaked out about the girl who came over to study in 9th grade.

But I definitely think there are girls, and maybe a couple of boys and/or nb kids, that are interested in him. He's cute, puberty is kind to him lol, he's probably super respectful, and of course he's like kinda shy and quiet which means he's mysterious. And like, with a body like that why is he not playing football or on the wrestling team? he's got such good grades in math and science, why isn't he on the robotics team or quiz bowl? They wanna crack his shell, yk? But like, if a girl whispers to her friends "Corey Cunningham is looking fine today," her friends are all gonna be like why do you even bother looking at him, you know he's basically a catholic priest, the dream is dead before it begins, etc.

Also like I mentioned in passing in Sandwiched, inspired by your Corey and Roger Allen explorations, I can definitely see Corey having a thing for certain male teachers and like older male classmates, like dudes who are seniors when he's a freshman or whatever. I don't think he probably had very many full blown crushes on guys, but definitely squishes, and I definitely comes back to his daddy issues and his gender shit, just like it did with Michael. Really, Corey squished on the varisty quarterback and Corey squished on the hot obnoxious goth guy, and Michael is like the absolute most extreme extension of those attractions - athleticism and defiance and self-assuredness. [ also this is why he's gonna be into Eddie in my eventual crossover fic, because Eddie has that defiant thing Corey likes :p]

Speaking of alt boys and defiance, like I mentioned in Clean Again Ch 1, and like in @toxicanonymity's fic Hot Topic, I think Corey was definitely drawn to the goths, punks, emos, metalheads etc at school. He was really intimidated by them, but that was also part of what drew him to them. Corey's constantly extremely aware of what people think of him, from having to manage Joan's outbursts all the time, and from hiding that part of his life from everyone, so I think he likes that subculture is a place where you like invite scrutiny to a degree, but you're also telling the scrutinizers to fuck off in the same breath. The self expression thing and the community of it are just everything he craves. I have a whole post of alt!Corey HC's too lol.

~ Academic Stuff ~

I think Corey's academic situation is probably similar to his friend situation - he's got a couple subjects he really likes and they come to him easily, a couple subjects he's kinda meh on but does decently well with, and probably one problem subject he just hates but also has to actually work at.

We already know his favorite subjects are math and science. He likes English when they're reading something good (what standard high school reading do we think he liked? I know he was about The Outsiders for sure lol), and history when they're learning about something related to his other interests, but he's pretty neutral about them at other times. I'm gonna say he probably liked gym most of the time too. As long as they weren't picking teams - not that he got picked last, I would think he'd be athletic enough and have enough friends that he would get picked in the middle instead of last, just that the experience of standing there waiting and being measured up would be really unpleasant for him. Maybe the class he hated and thought was really hard was whatever foreign language he took.

He probably could have a 4.0 gpa without much more work if he was in the right environment. But I can't see Joan caring all that much about grades since she was keeping him at home by Munchausen-ing him with some frequency and being weird about his classmates coming over to work on projects. And he's under a lot of stress all the time. So he just does his best most of the time and ends up with like a 3.3.

Until he realizes that college is the way out and his increasing interest in how things work and how they're designed and made can actually raise him out of working class semi-poverty. He's got his two and half years of 3.3s, that's not too bad, but he's gotta finish strong so he can qualify for scholarships. He graduates with like a 3.75 or something.

I will say I think the canon timeline for his college experience is kinda weird and I wonder about it. Like, when the accident happens he's 21, so we can assume he graduated 3 or 4 years ago. He could be a senior in college by that point if he went straight to a regular 4 year university. But he went to community college first. Did he do that to save money or to appease Joan? And surely he would qualify for some amount of merit-based money and probably some income-based awards too, if he was trying to get help paying for a standard 4 year university. Could they just not afford it even with scholarships and loans? I can definitely see Joan doing whatever she could to make him stay as long as possible, up to an including sabotaging his financial aid somehow. Maybe she wouldn't even fill out the FAFSA [the thing Americans have to fill out with their parents to get federal financial aid].

#corey cunningham #corey cunningham headcanons #halloween ends #thoughts #ask #mine

24 notes · View notes

misscammiedawn · 1 year

Text

50 Days of HypnoKink - Day 43: Hypnotic Theory

Alignment: Ambivalent or Top. I know there are resources on learning how to Bottom. But have you considered I prefer private instruction?

Jokes aside. I love hypnotic theory. I always have.

My earliest days online I remember reading up on subliminal advertising techniques and going down a rabbit hole of "Painted Ice Cubes" and other such things which seemed too weird to be true.

From there I ended up reading Subliminal Seduction in my late teens out of curiosity and was kind of fascinated by the concepts at play. I was already well and truly fascinated with hypnosis but hypnosis was this magical spell that was cast by magicians. This psuedo-science of advertising execs promising that glimpses of sharks and phallus' would unlock the secrets to sales was my first and unfortunate step into understanding the theory behind it all.

Next step was of course M.K Ultra which is 100% a meme in today's hypnokink community and at best an aesthetic for serious torture-brainwashing play which is at a much higher level of anything than I'm really capable of. But it cited itself. Which got me looking into the history of Mesmer and Braid and then onto a bloke named Milton Erickson...

Archive.org had a lot of his stuff. In fact all of his stuff.

Between Erickson in my textbooks and Derren Brown on my television, right at the start of his career when the fascination of mentalism was still tied heavily to hypnosis (and early Derren Brown was a Fae and a bit of an ass XD) my earliest teachers were pretty bad at consent. Which lead to certain expectations of hypnosis which lead to me picking bad partners at the start of my career.

But Erickson's stuff compelled me.

Early 20s Camden used a lot of Ericksonian speech patterns in her play. Though back then she was only really hypnotizing people under compulsion and usually while hypnotized to channel or outright become a character.

The fact I read medical journals is the moment I knew this fascination had evolved into a life altering obsession. That this was my One Thing.

It was the studies of Erickson working on participants with amputated limbs to study the phantom limb theory that really got me to sit up and pay attention to the science behind it.

At this point of my life I'd been studying on surgeries being performed with hypnosis (a terrifying concept. When I have my surgery I will be hypnotized to go under for the anesthesia like a good girl) and I had seen EKG readings that proved that hypnosis changes the way that the brain scans.

Every step of my life I have leaned on evidence and proof and every step of my study into hypnosis taught me it was not fantasy. It was reality and the more I accepted that the better I was at both hypnotizing, free of doubt and insecurity, and being hypnotized, trusting it works.

I still struggle with that. A lot. Thinking I am just acting or following along. But the more I read the better I feel.

I got my certification at the age of 23. I am not a fan of George Kappas (his work is misogynistic to my eyes) but his school taught me for a year (one of my classmates and the person I studied with for my finals is actually another high profile member of the online hypnosis community) and taught me the most important lesson any school has ever taught me:

I ALREADY KNOW THIS.

I was 23 years old and knew as much as the instructors. That was a good feeling.

Also my classmate and I are still friends. We're not super close, but she and I are in contact. I spent some time with them at a recent hypnosis event. It means a lot to me that even though my name and gender changed, they still remember me.

In my 30s I moved on from academic hypnosis materials to community driven information. I have read Lee & Pynch's book on Amnesia, sleepingirl's Brainwashing and NLP books and of course Wiseguy's Mind Play. I've also taken Wiseguy's class, though didn't bother taking my final. Which was a good use of $1,200.

Every now and again Sleepyhead will show up and just put a book in my hand. I think her copy of The Encyclopedia of Stage Hypnotism has graduated into my copy of The Encyclopedia of Stage Hypnotism (Sleepy, you can have your books back at any time).

These days I am lazy and can't really read much. I'm studying therapy more than anything with my latest obsessions being Janina Fischer and Melissa Tiers; Tiers herself being a world class hypnotist that many of our top community members have spent big bucks to train under.

In fact, here's an exert from a moment that I first started reading her Anxiety Toolkit.

Thing is I'm a really bad study. I read these things and absorb them, they change how I think and how I approach things, but after I move on to the next book I forget what was in the last one. The ways my style changes remain but I am just horrible at internalizing rote facts and learning.

People say I'm clever. Goddess even told me once that she thinks I know more about hypnosis than her, which is a compliment I cannot accept. I know my shit. I practice.

I just don't feel good at this.

I never really finished school. I got pulled out at 16. I was an average student at best who was trying her hardest. I remember seeing that one Simpsons episode where Bart breaks down in tears over studying for a test and failing and feeling seen. Teen me wanted to go to college, wanted to be Smart because at the time I thought Smart was strong.

I get really weird about my perceived intelligence because I cannot believe myself to be smart... but somewhere along the way I tricked people into never really seeing me as the dumbass I feel myself as. I guess the thing I'd say here is, I have massive amounts of curiosity and I enjoy learning.

I just suck at memorization. I should be nicer to myself for that. Theory brings me joy. I should be proud of that.

---

Day 42: Gradual Descents

FULL SCHEDULE MASTER POST

Day 44: Fluttering Eyelids

#camden posting #hypnosis #hypnokink #50 days of fetishes

24 notes · View notes