#i often don't feel like reading elaborate papers because I read them for school already

[hornyhermitry]

Hey, I wanted to ask about what you think of what Naoya said to Maki about asking Mai about being an adult. I have not read that chapter yet but a lot people say that Naoya saying that is basically him admiting to have r*ped Mai. But Idk, maybe I'm biased but I think it was just to tease Maki.

Since that is such an often brought up claim, I took the time to write out a very elaborate reply to you. You say you have not read the chapter so beware: My reply contains a few spoilers and screenshots of chapter 191 and chapter 194 that contains this dialogue. It's a moot discussion because the dialogue itself does not spell this out literally in any shape or form. It's a personal interpretation without any proof. So the folks who want to read it that way will not be swayed by rational arguments about what's canonically on paper anyway. That being said, let's get into it~

For context: The whole scene contextually is Naoya having received an upgrade to vengeful spirit. In his eyes, he crossed to the other side - the side of the strong, where Toji and Gojo are.

Now he's out to use his new powers to take revenge on Maki who humiliated him before his rebirth. Due to his evolution to a vengeful spirit, he is mocking human, cursed-power-less Maki from a position above her. He mocks the difference between himself and her by using an analogy of adults and children. He says "There are many things kids cannot do that are natural for adults. Once kids become adults they forget how it was to be unable to do these things. That's how I feel right now." This is him referring to how natural his new skills and strength level feel and he cannot imagine anymore how it was to not be in such a powerful state.

Him saying that a child cannot understand an adult's skills is a very similar meaning and a reference to what Naoya already said in his first fight against Maki: "The sin of the small fry is not understanding the true meaning of strength." Here:

Maki verbally fights back by avoiding his analogy and switches to a literal and personal level and says: "Do you ever act like an adult?" Thereby implying his analogy is bad, because he is a childish guy who will always be childish and no power will change that.

To which Naoya replies "Why don't we ask Mai-chan?", following her switch to a literal level of dialogue and verbally slapping her back for calling him childish by hurting her where it counts: in Maki's guilty conscience for having left Mai at home, while she trained at Jujutsu school. We are shown that this is what she feels guilty about and she apologies to Mai after her death. Naoya knows this, because when Naoya and Maki meet after Maki's bloodbath, she told him - visibly in cold grief - that Ougi killed Mai.

Now that Mai is dead, Maki will never know if and how her sister suffered, but in any case she was alone. Mai wanted Maki to stay in the clan and rot there together with her, but Maki left her. And now Maki is dead.

So Naoya is stabbing her with words - I'm paraphrasing- "Let's ask your dead sister" to upset her once again about Mai's death and her own failure of NEITHER staying with her NOR protecting/saving her when she returned.

And Naoya also perpetually uses the "-chan" at the end of Mai's name (and Maki's name) to reinforce that he is above them and does not see them at eye-level. So this is where the pain in this dialogue between Maki and Naoya stems from. At Maki throwing Mai to the wolves and not knowing what happened at home. And Naoya saying "oops,can't ask her, she's dead haha". There is nothing about rape in this dialogue.

People (FWIW mostly children/teens from what I've seen on Discord and Twitter - aside from a few annoying click-bait and attention-hungry Twitter personas) will say anything if they think it gets them attention, a social media stat boost and another reason to hate a character they already hate.

TL;DR Haters gonna hate :)

There's nothing on the pages about this, it's just a pretty disgusting headcanon disregarding what's actually shown and said. But there's no point in arguing with fanatics about their beliefs. Just ignore it.

A last example: A 17 year old girl in a manga goes to school to write a final exam. She has lunch break with her bf and friends, writes the exam and goes home. When she returns home, her parents ask: "How was your day?" In the next panel she happily says "I did it!" and goes into her room.

Suddenly, a lot of readers and fans start going off about "omg she really fucked that guy". Why do they say that? Because some translator on TW mentioned that sometimes, in a specific context, "I did it" or "to do it" can also mean "to have sex". So they (wrongly) conclude, "ah yes, she's a teen girl with a bf so surely her reply must have meant she DID IT and had sex for the first time!" When of course, within the context of this scene, that reply was about her having (successfully) done her exam.

This is a VERY biased way to read and nothing more than wild imagination. But there's all kinds of people out there and some just want to live out their dirty sex and rape fantasies. A mild jab with a winking eye: Mostly that's coming from people who do not have a lot of real-life experience with sex. Or people. Or reading comprehension. :P

Sorry for the long reply, I figured I might as well explain properly.

Hope that helped!

#naoya zenin #jjk #jjk thoughts #jujutsu kaisen #zenin family #zenin naoya #wormoya #zenin maki #maki zenin #jjk ch 194

[moldisgoodforyou]

on my mom's grave

wordcount: 3.7k

warnings: n/a

______

“How drunk do you think we’re going to get tonight?” Sophie asked, tipping back the last of a lemon White Claw as the two of them got ready for the night in her room.

“Dunno. I’m not really feeling it tonight.”

She paused, glancing back at him. “Do you not want to go?”

He shook his head and took the can from her, disappointed to realize there was nothing left. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m cool. Probably just won’t drink.”

“Is this about the phone call with your dad earlier?”

Rafe sighed, gritting his teeth. “It’s not - I’m fine, Soph.”

She crossed her arms and eyed him over, trying to get a read on his body language. “You’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” After Rafe tugged his shirt over his head, ready much faster than Sophie, he paced around the room for a few seconds before speaking up. "Hey, so...Sarah's getting presented at the annual deb ball in spring."

Sophie seemed unbothered, turning her back to him as she wrestled her way into a crop top to get ready for the night. "Those are still a thing? Cool, so you're going home for it?" She paused, glancing over at him in his polo. "Undo another button."

He did so, then rocked back on his heels with his hands in his pockets, trying to figure out what to say next.

She slowly turned back to him, realizing he was still tense across his shoulders. "What?"

Rafe rubbed the back of his neck, a tell-tale sign he was nervous and Sophie wasn't going to like what he was about to say. "Yeah...my dad wanted you to come home for it too."

"What? Ward? Why?"

"He, kinda, uh, wants you to be presented too?"

She just laughed, turning back to the mirror with her brow furrowed in slight concentration as she applied another coat of mascara. "Okay. Sure." But when he didn't elaborate, she turned back to him again, lips pursed. "Cameron. Tell me you told him no."

"...I didn't not not tell him no."

"Rafe."

He cracked under her stare. "I'm sorry, okay! Look, it's easy, all you have to do is throw on a pretty white dress and gloves -"

"A dress that costs thousands of dollars -"

"Hundreds, but - I'll cover you, obviously -"

"No." She turned back to the mirror, shaking her head. "Fuck no. I'm not going."

"Sophie." He nearly begged, stepping closer and running his hand through his hair. "Baby. C'mon."

"Don't call me that. No. I don’t fit into that part of your world.”

"Not even for me?" He pleaded, giving her a half-hearted grin. He ignored her last sentence, knowing any argument he had for her point would be dismissed in two seconds. "I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't important, you know that."

She turned back to him with crossed arms, fixing him with a glare. "Do I know that?"

"Soph."

"Don't, Rafe." She warned, holding one hand out, but he stepped closer anyways.

"Angel. Please. For me." He forced a smile, tried cracking a joke. "I really don't want to have to call him up and get read the riot act."

She furrowed her brow and Rafe reached out and smoothed out the lines in between her eyebrows before he could stop himself, making her soften just a little. "If I were to say yes. What would I have to do?"

"Just wear the dress, attend a dinner, party the night before and party that night." He paused, thinking. "And stay at my house for the weekend. Be civil to my dad.” At her eyeroll, he fixed her with a more serious gaze. “Meet my grandparents. Hang with my sisters. C'mon, Wheezie adores you."

"You're lying."

"I'm not. She thinks you're cool. Sarah too, but she’s less likely to admit it." He kissed her forehead, hands going to her waist. "Please?"

"It's that important?"

"I swear. On my mom's grave."

Sophie frowned immediately, reaching up to fix his hair. "That's not necessary."

"You'll do it?"

"...Yes." When he made a small fist pump, she fixed him with a glare. "Only because I love you."

“I'll go down on you every night for the next two weeks -”

She rolled her eyes at his promise, shoving lightly at his chest. "You basically already do that anyways, Rafe -”

"Okay, fine, I'll tie you up, something, anything, god, thank you, Soph. You don't know how big of a favor this is. I mean it." He sighed in relief, the tension draining from his body.

She ignored him, turning back to the mirror to apply lip gloss, carefully smearing the wand across her lips. “Why does he want me to do this? I don’t understand.”

“Is that the sticky stuff? I hate that stuff, it gets all over me when we’re kissing -” He started, then quickly shut his mouth as she flipped him off without looking. “Uh, ‘to integrate you into our society.’ Direct quote.”

“Oh god.” She groaned, setting the lip gloss aside after applying it, then started searching through her jewelry case. “So I’m gonna have to be on my best kook behavior?”

He snorted. “Sophie Flint, a kook. Not likely.”

“Watch it.” She pointed a warning finger in his face. “You don’t see anything weird with this? Your dad hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“Rose does.”

“That’s not true either.”

Sophie raised her eyebrows, challenging him.

He shrugged, relenting with a sigh. “You’re not her favorite person, no, but neither am I.”

“You think this was more her idea? For Sarah to do it too?”

“Nah, actually, pretty sure it was my grandparents’ idea. Probably Granddad. My mom went through all this, so…”

She turned her back to him and gathered her hair, offering the clasp of her gold chain to him. “Your mom was a debutante?” She questioned with interest.

_______

Rafe rarely ever talked about his mom - Sophie had only found out how she died from a newspaper article in the online archives, and hadn’t wanted to bring it up since. All she knew was that Mrs. Cameron had passed away in a car accident when Rafe was fourteen.

Both Sophie and Rafe’s schools shared a building, despite them going to private academies, and overlapped for certain advanced placement classes. In freshman year, they were together for AP chemistry, with Sophie sitting proudly at the front of the class while Rafe sat in the back with a group of his friends, often cracking jokes at inappropriate times or throwing wads of paper at each other. Freshman year Sophie was the epitome of stuck-up - she resorted to insults instead of making friends and kept to herself, terrified someone might find out that she was on scholarship and wasn’t truly meant to be there.

The day after the car accident, Rafe was unusually quiet. Sophie hadn’t heard the news yet, it was barely second period and she wasn’t looped into the trail of gossip like the rest of the girls at Greenville. They were partnered for an experiment that day - Rafe had groaned when he heard Sophie’s name after his from the teacher, and Sophie barely suppressed a roll of her eyes. She took charge right away, getting all the supplies and set up their work station without even addressing him. After a few minutes, she slid the small glass of solution to Rafe, raising her eyebrows. “You can do the work too, you know.”

He was completely spaced out, only glancing up when she said something. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Sophie rolled her eyes, lifting a beaker and extending it to him. “Yeah. I know. Just drop in 10 milliliters of the solution, it’s not hard.”

Rafe sighed as he rested his elbows on the edge of the table, rubbing his temples. “Look, can you just do it?”

She finally took note of the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders were slumped, but misinterpreted it all. She smirked, taking on a taunting tone. “What, you’re still drunk from last night or something?”

He gritted his jaw, his entire body growing tense, and tugged at the collar of his polo. “Fuck off, Flint. Not in the mood today.”

She recoiled immediately, setting the beaker down with a little too much force. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“Don’t be a fucking bitch.” He spit back, standing abruptly. She winced as the stool squeaked across the floor, drawing everyone’s attention - as if they hadn’t had it already. Kelce stepped over and went to grab Rafe’s arm, possibly pull him away, but Rafe just wrenched his arm out of his grip. “I’m fine.” He growled, storming out of the classroom without looking back.

After a few moments of stunned silence, with Sophie on the verge of shocked tears, their teacher cleared her throat and redirected everyone’s attention, pointing one of the girls over to join Sophie instead. Molly made her way over, occupying Rafe’s seat in the space across from her. “Poor Rafe,” she murmured.

Sophie frowned, pulling her jacket tighter across her chest like a shield of armor. “Poor Rafe? What?”

Molly nodded, lowering her voice a little. “Yeah, you didn’t hear? I’m surprised he’s at school, honestly.”

“I didn’t...what happened?”

“Oh.” Molly frowned. “Um. You know that winding road, the one that goes downhill toward the ballet studio?”

Sophie didn’t, she didn’t even have a clue - the ballet studio was on the entire opposite side of the island from where she lived, the height of Figure 8, and she hadn’t ever had a reason to even venture that way. “Yeah? What does that have to do with Rafe?”

“Um, well, it was pouring last night, and his mom was driving down that road. I heard she lost control of the car and wrecked it. There was, like, a drunk driver that swerved into her lane, but she tried to avoid him and hit a tree.” Molly told her, careful on the details.

“I’m pretty sure the Camerons can replace a car.” Sophie replied, not wanting Molly to confirm where she thought she was going with the story. She dug her nails into the skin of her thigh anyways, feeling anxiety bubble up in her chest.

Molly shook her head, slowly. “Mrs. Cameron died, Sophie.”

Her heart dropped and she bit the inside of her cheek, hard. “Oh.”

“Yeah. I’m surprised you didn’t hear the sirens last night, I saw like eight police cars last night headed toward his house. I heard Sarah was in the car too, I think -”

“Is Sarah okay?” She couldn’t concentrate on anything but her ears ringing, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Oh, yeah, I think so. But god, how awful, right? The funeral is next weekend, Ward Cameron told my dad this morning. Is your family going?”

“Um...I don’t know.” Sophie glanced toward the door, hoping to god he would come back through the door and Molly would confess that it was all a joke, that she hadn’t just started something with Rafe on that day of all days.

________

Rafe nodded. “Yeah. ‘Course she was. I think she really enjoyed it, actually, she’d always tell Sarah when she was little about how pretty she would look in the dress, how important it was to learn the right etiquette and -” He cut himself off, realizing he was sharing too much, and deftly fastened the clasp before pressing a kiss to the top of her head, letting her step away. “All that.”

“Huh.”

He smiled to himself, thinking about how his mom would let little Sarah play dress up in her old ballgown with gloves that went up to her armpits, wobbling around in high heels twice the size of her feet. His mom would tell Rafe he’d have to watch out for Sarah with her escort, keep him in line, and that when he was in college he’d be presenting a girl as well. But he was nine and didn’t think of girls in that way quite yet, so he always scowled and left the room.

“It’s kind of cool, I think. The tradition of it all.”

“The ball? Have you been?” She caught his eye in the mirror as she adjusted her top, not wanting to push for too much information before he’d shut down altogether.

“No...I was gonna present Brooklyn at the one here in Columbus, sophomore year’s normally when the girl gets presented, but. Yeah. No, I meant, it’s kind of cool that you’ll be doing something my mom did.” He rubbed the back of his neck, meeting her gaze for a moment then looked away.

“Yeah?”

“She would have liked you. I know it.”

Sophie perked up a little, cocking her head. “You really mean it?”

“Yeah. She would have liked that you have an attitude with me.” He grinned when she turned back around and took his hand, tugging him over to sit on the bed next to her. “She was always saying I needed to find someone to match my energy, keep me in check. I wish she could have met you.”

“I did meet her. Once.”

He perked up, cocking his head. “You did?”

“Yeah, I served her when I was working at the restaurant at the country club once, I was only fourteen. I remember she made some comment about me being too young to work and I told her I liked it. Then she asked my name, and I remember she seemed like she knew already when I told her.” Sophie nodded. “She was really nice, left way too big of a tip and wrote my name on the bill. I always thought that was funny.”

Of course she knew, Rafe thought as he smiled to himself. She knew, because Rafe had come home and complained about a girl getting on his nerves every single week since seventh grade. She knew, when the complaints turned to “why won’t just be nice to me” and his mom had quipped that Sophie probably liked him - he had scoffed and walked away. She knew, because his mom had come home from the country club and told him Sophie Flint was a much nicer girl than Rafe painted her to be, and Rafe had immediately turned bright red and been embarrassed that his mom sought her out.

“I like that.” She leaned into him, taking his hand to play with his rings. “Will your grandparents be there? At the ball?”

“Oh, yeah. They sit on the board, I’m pretty sure, it’s this gigantic charity event. I’ll introduce you, but don’t worry, they’re chill. Nothing like my dad.” He adjusted himself so she was comfortable, then pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

She chewed on the inside of her lip, treading carefully. “I thought your dad grew up on the Cut.”

“He did. But my mom, no way. Kook through and through. That’s, uh, where a lot of my trust is from. After she died, um. She wanted to be sure me and Sarah were set.” He shrugged, ears turning red as he felt his throat getting tight.

Sophie frowned, feeling him closing off, and leaned closer to hug him, arms wrapped tight around his waist. “You know you can talk to me about this stuff whenever, Rafe? I’d like to hear more about your mom. She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“She was.” He nodded, settling his arms around her shoulders and rested his chin on the top of her head, closing his eyes for a moment. “Thanks, Soph. This is a really big deal to me, that you’ll go. I know it’s not your scene.”

“Love you.” She murmured. “You’d better buy me a pretty dress.”

He laughed, leaning back just enough to tip up her chin with one finger and kiss her. “You’ll be the best looking one there. I swear.”

“Oh, I already knew that.”

“Okay, okay, big head -”

She swatted his arm, laughing as she ducked out from under him. “Watch it, or I won’t go -”

“I was kidding!” He exclaimed, wrestling with her for a moment before grabbing both her hands and pinning them above her head.

Sophie sucked in a breath, caught off guard. “We are going to be late.”

“We’re already late.” He pointed out, taking a moment to realize the lack of innocence in the position, then slowly smirked. “We could be later. They’re not gonna miss us.”

“Rafe.”

“Sophie.”

“No.”

“You’re positive?”

She just gave him a look, staring him dead in the eyes and willing herself not to react when he leaned down with a grin and kissed the bridge of her nose.

“Please?”

“Fine. The ball or sex right now. You choose.” She raised her eyebrows, arching her back a little on purpose, pressing her hips up against his.

“That’s not fair.” He frowned, immediately shifting his hips away and moving so both his knees were on either side of her instead. “This is blackmail.”

“Your choice.” She reminded him, biting her lip for good measure.

He faltered, sitting back on her thighs and letting go of her wrists. “Soph, it’s - it’s for my mom. I swear. Not for my dad, Rose, anyone else.”

Sophie dropped the teasing act right away, propping herself up on her elbows. “Right, right, sorry. I won’t push it.”

“It’s alright.” He climbed off her, standing, and offered his hands. “Five bucks James makes some joke about us being late because we were having sex.”

“I’m not taking you up on that.” She rolled her eyes, accepting his hand and pulled him into a hug. “Love you long time, Cameron.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Love you too, favorite girl.”

“What do the dresses look like?”

“Uh...white?” Rafe shrugged, tugging on her hand to get her to follow him downstairs. “I dunno. When we go home for Thanksgiving I’ll book you an appointment to get fitted, I think it’s at some bridal shop on the mainland.”

“Sounds expensive.” She muttered, shaking her head.

“It’s…yeah. It’s not cheap.” He admitted, then shrugged as she followed him out the door, starting their walk toward the bars. “I’ll take care of it though. All of it. By the way, have you booked your flight home for Thanksgiving yet?”

“Um...no. I was going to look this week, it’s probably too late now though.”

“Hm.”

“Hm? Why, are you going home?”

Rafe nodded, not looking her in the eye. “Taking the plane.”

“Oh. Of course.”

“The plane...that no one else will be on...and it’s kinda ridiculous for you to waste money and carbon emissions on a separate flight…” He tried convincing her, a small smile playing on his lips as she rolled her eyes.

“You need to learn how carbon emissions work if you’re going to use that as an argument with me.”

“So that’s a no to sex on the plane?”

Sophie stopped in her tracks, confused. “That wasn’t - Rafe, what?”

“You, me, alone on the plane. Sorry, was I not clear enough?”

“I didn’t even say yes -”

“Oh, so you’re going to leave me all by myself on our one-year anniversary -”

She raised her eyebrows, challenging him. “When’s our anniversary, Rafe?”

He raised his back, stopping on the sidewalk to face her. “On my terms or yours? Because if we’re going with mine, it’s Halloween -”

“No, I had to ask you to be my boyfriend, it’s November 18th -”

“That is such an arbitrary thing, Sophie -”

“Hey! Stop stealing my vocabulary.” She interjected, pushing at his chest. “It’s the 18th, because I had to ask you out.”

“Okay. Whatever story makes you happy.” He shrugged, laughing when she shoved at him again. “Come on the plane with me.”

“...Fine. Only because I don’t want to miss our class reunion party on Wednesday night, I’m pretty sure some people still don’t believe we’re together.”

Rafe laughed loud at that, looping his arm around her shoulders and started walking again. “Pretty sure Topper still thinks it’s all an elaborate lie.”

“Does he know that we nearly hooked up in his room last winter break?”

“No.” He grinned. “Are you forgetting that you had to sprint into his bathroom right when I was about to kiss you because of some tequila thing you had?”

She tilted her head slightly. “You’re remembering wrong. That was sophomore year, before we were dating, I barely drank last year...you almost kissed me?”

“What? No, I think...remember, we were arguing over something, then you whispered in my ear to go up to his room and left. I went up a couple minutes later.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t going to make a move, Brooklyn and I were together then.”

Sophie scowled at the mention of Brooklyn. “I must have been hammered, I don’t remember any of this.”

“You wanted me.” He smirked, trailing his fingers along her collarbone. “One might say desperate.”

“No, no. All I remember is waking up in Topper’s bed feeling like shit, I had some crewneck on from your academy.” She ignored the blush creeping up her neck.

“How do you think you got there and got the sweatshirt?” He frowned. “I took care of you, Sophie. You really don’t remember?”

“I think I blacked out.” She confessed, shaking her head. “You took care of me?”

“Of course I did. Plus, I thought I was about to get some, I would have done anything for you.” He grinned, laughing when she shoved his shoulder. “Really thought that was the night I’d finally win you over.”

“Yeah, well, you can blame Sarah for her heavy pour that night.” She shook her head, smiling fondly. “I really wish I remembered that.”

“I wish you remembered too. Maybe you would have given me a chance before then instead of setting me up with Julia.”

“I - no! She asked to be set up with you, no, I did not instigate that at all.” She defended herself straightaway, cheeks flushing pink. “She said if I wasn’t going to make a move, then she was going to.”

“Sure. Whatever you believe.” He teased, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as they arrived at the bar. “Hey, Soph.”

She rolled her eyes, going to get in the winding line outside until he tugged her wrist back, pulling her to his chest. “What?”

“Thank you. I mean it.”

Sophie softened, smiling as she rose up on her toes to kiss him. “Of course, baby. I’ve got your back.”

taglist: @drewstarkey @lemur46 @jjmaybanksbaby @edgeofgr8 @quxxnxfhxll @obxtess @hoodpankow @vtgirl802 @outerbankies @messagesinthesky @nicolecarsley @svechnikolan @ilovejjmaybank @obxtess @abbyj1822 @oopsiedoopsie23 @g4bster @jjmaybankzz @freddymaybank @dontjinx-it @illbesafeforyou @moniamaybank @tovvaa @jailcalledlife @sunshineitsfine44 @randomficsandshit @outerbankspreferences @outerbanksbro @karsinner @kkmaybank @whoeveniskendall @lemur46 @outerbankies

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfic #rafe x sophie #mine #college rafe #frat rafe

[shadowturtlesstuff]

You belong with me

so i decided to post wadsworth first. modern au cressworth- you belong with me taylor swift

Thomas throws his phone down on the bed with frustration swirling around him as he paces. I set down my pen and wait till he turns and spots me. We often find ourselves talking via paper throughout the nights, from questions about our day to helping each other study. It is also often we watch each other be angry at something, yet I've not seen him this bad before. Finally Thomas turns and catches my eye. He stands there for a second before smiling and I quickly move around my various workbooks till I find my notebook I use to talk to him. I take my sharpie and write: ‘Are you okay?’

I watch him shake his head ever so slightly, seemingly baffled at it, but he walks to his window and opens it. The wind brushes his deep brown hair and I can't help but want to reach out and run my hand through it. I curse myself for it as he motions for me to open my window. Moving my books and pens off of me and cursing at my stiff leg as I go and open the window. Somehow I manage to hit my arm in the process and I curse, which makes Thomas laugh slightly so I forgive my body for hurting me. 

“You have a wicked mouth Wadsworth. Did you not learn cursing is unlady-like?” he teases and I relax slightly because of it.

“Fuck you,” I scowl at his smirk and the frigid wind. His eyes light up at my temper. We live across from one another, if we were to reach out we could hold hands. Which we have done. When I got rejected from the specific school I was desperate to go to, Thomas had managed to climb into my room and hold me as I cried. He's only ever needed to climb over twice to cheer me up, the other times have been to study or watch some romance programme he thought was good. I hoped wherever was troubling was something that wouldn't resort to me having to climb over. As much as I would want to, my brain may have a hard time letting me attempt it. 

“I assume dear Wadworth, you want to ask what has made me so irate?” he asks, eyes focused on behind me and fingers tapping his window sill as he sits. I watch as his cat, ridiculously named Sir Isaac Mewton, jumps off his bed and onto his seat next to him. He grabs the cat and kisses the top of his head before holding him in his lap.

“Perhaps,” I say, moving so I rest my head on the wall, “perhaps I merely wanted to ask if Sir Issac was okay.” his eyes shift to mine and despite him still being angry they soften at my attempt at humour. I am not as good as Thomas at using humour to help someone, but he always does it for me. 

“Really? You always refer to him as a little pest, whereas as with me, I am your dearest person, of course you want to know how I am feeling. My son is good though, very energetic today.” he smiles down at his cat. I remember the day he brought him home, he made me go over to his house and we spent all night playing with him. Thomas did, I ended up studying and making notes for the both of us while he gave Sir Isaac a ‘grand tour’ of his new home. The smile vanishes off Thomas's face and once again his gaze goes past me. “I assume you saw the call, well that was William. Yes, awful. Apparently though, there is a rumour that I'm with Miss Whitehall. I don't even remember her first name, but he was convinced of our relation despite my protests. Madness.” I watch him scoff, anger once again taking over his features. His cat nuzzles into him and Thomas leans into his cat. If I wasn't also mad now I'd smile at the sight. 

“Is this the same William that had convinced everyone I was dating him?” 

“Yes.”

“Bitch. Why on earth is he such a problem? Where on earth does he even make this assumptions about us?'' I find myself standing and pacing, trying to quell my own rising anger. A year ago, William had been my lab partner for a few weeks, he was friendly, but people had got it in their head that we were somehow together, and he went with it. Gossiped about me, even Thomas, and then was somehow enraged I dared to stop those rumours and be angry at him. I'd come home one day when it was particularly too much, when my father had found out and lectured me about it, as though I was in the wrong for standing up for myself. He'd cancel my lesson with my uncle out of spite, and I stormed upstairs. Thomas had been at the window, as if he was expecting me. One look at his face made me cry. I managed to open my window and he'd once again climbed in and held me as I cried. Then he made us watch this awful romance film together and held me still as I fell asleep on him. 

“I have never once,” Thomas says, dragging me back from those awful memories, “shown interest in her, nor will I ever.” He drags a hand through his hair. “She's just- a lot.”

I huff a sigh. She is awful. Had been awful to Liza and I for years. With her short skirts, high heels and the most rotten attitude I have ever witnessed. It wasn't often that I'd hate someone like that, someone so different from me in nearly every way, but she has tried to make me feel that I don't belong because of my interest in science and not the traditional girl interests.. “That is the understatement of the year Cresswell. Beside, you wouldn't work, she's too- your,” I have no idea how to explain how excellent Thomas is, how wonderful his mind is and how kind he is. It's not a side he shows to most, yet if he was ever with someone like Whitehall, it would be disastrous. I take my seat again and find him looking at me, suppressing a smirk and raising an eyebrow at me. “What?” I ask. I shrink under his gaze, pulling my hoodie over my legs as I curl in on myself. 

“I’m what? I'd be delighted to know your innermost thoughts of me, Wadsworth.”

“Your absurd but fine I'll elaborate,” I roll my eyes as he shifts so he is fully facing me, eyes completely focused, no sign of the anger he had only moments ago, “your too kind, too witty and clever and Whitehall wouldn’t appreciate you enough. You-” don’t belong with her.

Ever since he mentioned the idea of being with someone else, real or not, I have tried to ignore how much it pained me that he would be with someone else. I never expected to want to be with him, yet lately the premise of dating him has seemed very pleasing to me.

“You forgot to mention how handsome I look, or how charming I am, but I'll take it,” his voice is deeper than normal and his gaze travels over me even though his eyes are on my own. Thomas pats Sir Issac and his cat jumps off behind him with a whine. His hand reaches out for mine and I lean forward, wind making my loose strands of hair fly across my face. His hands are warm as I take them but his smile warms me more. It is small but genuine and filled with the normal Cresswell charm mixed with something I can't quite name. 

“I don’t need to inflate your ego further Thomas.” 

“I know but it would've been nice. I did say the inner most thoughts but we’ll get there. Audrey rose-” he looks down contemplating his words before he once again locks his gaze on mine, his dark brown eyes bright, “I dont belong with her, your right, my heart would never belong to her especially since it already belongs to someone else.” 

I blink at the honesty. I want to scream that you belong with me; but if Thomas is in love with someone else then I suppose I will have to find a way to deal with it. I try to keep the hurt of my face even as he smiles at me. 

“I-” Thomas lets go of my hand and stands. There's a silence between us until he motions for me to move. The idiot is going to climb into my house so he can tell me about his new found love. Like the fool I am, I'm going to let him talk about this girl who makes him look this happy. Even though it hurts that it's not me who is making him look like that. Even though I'm the one who makes him laugh when he is angry or upset. Even though I'm the one who knows his favourite songs, the books beside his bed and all his hopes and dreams.

He climbs over and sets himself on the window sill, giving me room to sit across from him. I do, even as I try to ignore the weight pressing down on my chest. “I hope you are happy with whomever has your heart Cresswell.” I say and mean it. I once again curl into myself, hoodie covering my legs as i watch him continue to smile at me, 

“Of course I'll be happy. She's amazing. Let me tell you all about her. I met her many years back and was instantly smitten with her emerald eyes and her quick witted mind. How she sings to herself every morning and how her dark curls fall across her face whenever she sits on her bed and reads. I adore her curiosity for the dead and how wicked her mouth is and how delightful it is to watch your mind at work. I love when she shows me a note through the window to see if I'm doing okay and-”

“Wait,” I blurt out, my mind catching up, “Thomas, are you talking about me?”

“Yes, finally! I thought I'd have to keep speaking forever till you realized it was you.” He starts laughing at my gaping mouth until I collect myself enough to scowl at him slightly for laughing. Thomas reaches out for my hand, moving closer to me until my back is pressed against the wall, my hoodie no longer over my legs as he rests his other hand on my leg, warmth seeping through me. “Wadsworth, darling, I have been in love with you for some time now.” 

Silence washes over us as we stare, trying to convince ourselves this is really happening. “I have something to show you.” My voice is barely about a whisper and I slide out of his grasp even though I don't want to. I walk to my bed where all my notebooks were left open and my notebooks sits. I open it out and let a piece of paper fall out. Facing Thomas I open the sheet slowly, watch him read the words. His eyes lit up at them.

I love you.

I take my place beside him again, his hands finding their way in mine once again. “I wrote that the night after you came here the second time. Something in me clicked that no matter what you'd find a way to comfort me. Not save me, but work alongside me. I wanted to tell you I just couldn't face it. But I needed to acknowledge it. So I wrote it down, and I look at it every time we use the note system; I try to convince myself to show you.” Thomas just stares at me, eyes flicking down to my lips every now and then. His hands are making circles on my leg, not entirely intentional. Thomas has always shown if he is excited or nervous by either tapping or making shapes on surfaces. The world slows completely as he leans in and presses his lips against mine. He pulls back ever so slightly, resting his head against mine and we are both smiling wildly at each other, pressing kisses until he leans further away. Thomas goes back to his side of the wall, which may as well be across the other side of the world, then he pulls me to him and I twist so that my back is against his. He holds me as we both look out the window, enjoying the freeing feeling of telling each other how we feel. 

“Now would be a perfect time to tell me how handsome I am, my love.” 

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @the-hoofflepooff @padfoot-sirius-black-blog @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @lovecakeandmore ​ @yikesitsmaddie @loveyatopluto​ @throneofsc @bookscressworth​

#sjtr #hpd #efh #btdp #ctd #stalking jack the ripper #hunting prince dracula #escaping from houdini #capturing the devil #thomas cresswell #cresswell #audrey rose #audrey rose wadsworth #wadsworth #cressworth #kerii maniscalco #you belong with me

[themindofcassiopeia-blog]

Reality isn't photogenic

Hey Astrophiles⚡

So everybody talks about the good. They publish, post and publicise the good, the things they want everybody to see and admire, desire, and applaud. Sometimes people talk about the bad, the sugar coated truth that still comes with the glory of it's own that sucks sympathy out of listening souls and ends the story with a praise that upholds their egos to the highest standards.

But what about the ugly? What about the fact that people around us are dying. Not just physically but mentally and emotionally and spiritually too and it's messed up how nobody can talk about it without being an attention seeker...

Today I was talking to a girl in my class and she asked about the bandage on my hand. I told her my cat scratched me and she continue to make a comment how "at least I didn't take a knife and stab myself or something". Now normally I can brush things off but she pissed me off with the way she said it. I proceeded with a simple "huh?". And then what she said next put me over the edge...

"You get some stupid pschyco thingie people who do stuff like that and cut themselves for fun"

Again "huh?"

"You know those people with those scars on their wrists and stuff?"

Self harm...she meant self harm.

And then I lost it. Mentally I slapped her, in reality I just walked into class and ended the conversation there.

Recently I spoke about OCD on my page and the same girl made a comment about OCD as well...

Just the other day I find out from my best friend that the people I used to once call my sisters were trash talking me and the fact that I have bipolar disorder and I'm "too sensitive". Mind you that one of them bursts into tears to gain attention and has done so many many times.

The point I'm trying to get across is that ignorance is a reality and it's ugly as heck. How are individuals, especially teenagers going through the hell we call high school, expected to cope and be okay when mental illness is not taught in our education syllabus? When ignorance drives people to feeling like they are worthless because they fight demons in their heads every single day but "it's not that bad". Feeling like until you are dead it will never be "bad enough" to not be attention seeking. And even when it's too late we are never enough.

As I said over the course of this blog I'm gonna talk about different things in the hope that I can eliminate at least one person's ignorance if nothing more.

So lets talk about the ugly because this crap is real and real is something that slaps us in the face all too often. We all have stories and struggles that nobody knows about and we have our ugliest moments inbetween the bad and the good. So let's be real now. I don't want your guys's sympathy. I don't want to be praised or apologised to. I don't want to be hated on or accused of seeking attention because if I could I would disappear from the face of an earth in a heartbeat because I'm not invisible. I'm painfully visible and completely ignored until I'm being criticised. Here's my ugly.

At age 8 I was already being called fat by my mother and the memory still sticks with me. From age 12 onwards I went through phases of not eating, starving myself for days and when forced to eat would shut myself in my room and exercise only to have no numbers drop. Resorting to purging which left me with my emitophobia. But was I really afraid of vomit or afraid of dying? As years go on I'm just getting worse and I'm lying to everybody. I go through phases of overeating, undereating, binging, purging, starving, 1000 calorie burning exercises and chewing gum on an empty stomach. Eating infront of a mirror and googling thinspo to one day achieve. But guess what, fat girls who get skinny are a success story and heaven forbid you fail like I am.

Holding a knife to my skin and making elaborate stories about paper cuts and looking my scars and not seeing scars but seeing a lie to my mother and invisible ink saying help me. Knowing that 2 people have seen those scars and getting a weird look from one and a lecture from the other. Scratches, getting into baths of boiling water and burning my skin, punching walls and bashing my head on door frames, scratching scrars and pitching my flesh to bruises.

Holding a knife to myself, standing over the railing at a school and having one person out of everybody grab me and pull me back into the corridor. Setting up a belt in my wardrobe, having a depressing as heck notebook that would make somebody scream like they were in a horror movie. Taking pills for the sake of it and getting to a point of not being able to do anything without taking pain killers because one day I hoped it would stop the pain.

The fear of messing up, not being good enough, being hated and alone and uninteresting and unloved haunting me while I stay up day after day with no sleep. Feeling too stupid to be anything and too smart because what's the point of being a brainiac if you're ugly and fat too?

So my life is ugly. It's freaking ugly and I hate it and I've been trying to change it for years. I'm not skinny, my face is too chubby, my teeth are scew, my hair is lifeless and falling out, my skin looks like a packet of red m&ms and I'm too smart, not athletic enough, too boring, not artsy enough, unpopular and too quiet?

What do I want? I want to be what is seen as perfect these days and reality is that I can't be that. Reality is that I sit on my phone but I have no messages. I sit on this blog but nobody follows it. I sit in my bed and feel like crying but no tears come out and I'm exhausted but my brain never turns off. I see the photos, the stories, the captions, the perfect lives of all my peers having a good time while I sit alone every day. Just be more social? Even when I am nobody wants me.

But all I am is attention seeking by marking up my body, all I am is a gluttonous freak because I'm fat, I'm a lame nerd because I struggle to speak up and I get good grades (which recently proved to not even be good enough). Ignorance. We don't know each other's stories. Some people don't make it to tell the story.

One day. One day it will be me turning down guys who ask me out, one day it will be me wearing skinny jeans and not looking like an elephant. One day it will be me who is called pretty and is invited to things and has a social life. One day I will be enough. One day I can feel like it's acceptable for me to be happy.

So here's my ugly rant. It's contoversial. It's my raw thoughts. It's real and this blog is the only place I feel safe being real because my name is Cassiopeia...not my real name. My baggage isn't glued to me, my life is unknown. Guys if you have a problem then please talk to me. I want to help. Let me know your ugly because no matter what it is it matters to me. Rant, scream, shout, cry, just let it out because I won't judge. The only person I judge is myself if I'm being blunt. So let's open up the conversation and stop the ignorance.

We need more real.

I love you guys so much and I hope this wasn't a waste of time. I needed to vent so thank you if you read all my crap. Thank you for following and reading this if you did💙

xx Cass xx

[anatolysergievsky]

This isn't really a collage ask but basically is. Do you have any tips for how to study? Cause I have finals for the first time this year and I don't know how to study at all.

Sure thing! Btw good luck on your finals– I’m sure you’ll do great on them so long as you don’t worry too much or stress yourself to the point of bad performance (that’s something I have trouble reminding myself of).

As a couple of notes, I’ll be saying how I study and what works for me but that style might not necessarily work for you. If you find it doesn’t, I can link you to some studyblrs that might mesh more with your learning style! Mine is very much a style that just relies on constant work and rereading and basically unending focus. Also, it’s kind of important to note that I study 16-17 hours a day, 7 days a week during the school year and you might not be able to/want to put in that kind of obsessive dedication so your approach to studying might be different than mine at points (like I said above). That said, here are some important things I always keep in mind!

Keep in mind the Ebbinghaus Forgetting Curve. I really can’t stress this enough– reading about this completely changed how/when I study. You can wiki it if you want but the thing to know is that after you learn something, most of that knowledge is going to be forgotten within hours or days if it isn’t reviewed. So after a lecture/class/reading, take a break of an hour or two and then REVIEW what you just learned. It strengthens the memory of that material significantly, especially if you do these periodic reviews often (the first one is the most important, though). It’s related to what everyone tells you about cramming not being good for you but instead of just advising you to review over time, it tells you EXACTLY when to review in order to maximize your retention. Just breezing through the stuff again a few hours after can make such a huge difference when it comes to studying for the test weeks later that you’ll be amazed.

State dependent learning/memory! This was something that was talked about in a psychology lecture I went to. Essentially, you remember things best when you’re in a similar state to the one you learned it in, the example given being how it’s much easier to remember what you hate about your friend when you’re fighting with them rather than when you’re laughing with them. The same goes for learning school-related stuff! If you were sad when you read something, you’ll remember that stuff easier when you’re sad again (same goes for any other emotion). In my case, I would generally listen to the same music (a one hour long piano compilation) while I studied all day every day. Then I would listen to that before I went to take my tests. You can do the same thing with always chewing one type of gum during math study, for example. Anyway, state dependent learning is very useful if you’re consistent with it (always having the same type of gum, always listening to the same type of music).

It’s very difficult but please try to stay calm during tests– your brain works so much better when you’re calm. A lot of people say they work best under pressure but stress has been shown to both lower your creativity and worsen your memory.

The recency and primacy effects are important to keep in mind when you’re doing a long study session. When you stop studying, the information that will be easiest to recall later will be the last and first things you read/learned. The middle items tend to get lost and the recall for them is much blurrier. Don’t put your most important studying in the middle of your session because that’s what you’ll remember the least from.

As a personal one that I haven’t done research on or anything, if you have flashcards or anything like that, I really suggest walking while you use them. I have always thought that it helps me with memorization.

Don’t study for more than two hours without giving yourself a couple minutes for a break. You’re not encoding anything very well after that and the break refreshes your brain so it’s worth the loss of a few minutes.

Don’t begin to study until you are FREE to do so. Get the dishes done before you begin, get your emails answered, get your little worries taken care of etc. It’s not very productive to settle down to study only to be worrying about something else or getting up every twenty minutes to do your chores or something of the sort. This is something I’m very into, personally– I get my exercise, texts, emails, shower etc done as early in the morning as I possibly can so they’re not hanging over my head.

Triple read all of your textbooks if possible! Here’s my method:

First read: Just go through without doing anything.

Second read: Read everything again but annotate either on paper or on the margins (if you bought the book). Think about how the piece in its entirety works since you have already read to its conclusion.

Third read: Read everything again, including your annotations. Think about what you still don’t understand and research it online or talk to the teacher about it.

Review past tests from the class and also review past assignments. Remind yourself what the teacher looks for and don’t waste your time studying, for instance, definitions if they focus more on application of learning questions.

Elaborate when you rehearse definitions/words/concepts, don’t just use rote learning (flashcards, essentially). You remember so much more when you make the learning significant in some way for you. For an example, instead of just saying “’aslan’ is ‘lion’ in Turkish” fifty times to remember it, you would connect it to the Narnia books and remember it that way– “the lion in Narnia is aslan, aslan means lion.” Rote learning is not very effective or long-lasting.

Personally, I love quizzing myself, especially with definitions. It helps to say the stuff out loud since you then have not only a visual memory of reading the words but you also have an auditory memory of hearing the words said. That has saved me a lot of times, actually, but I’m not sure how well it works for other people! I can almost always remember hearing myself say the definitions/word/explanation etc.

These are pretty vague since I’m not sure what kind of studying you’re doing! I have different methods for languages, math, logic, science, psychology, etc. So if you need any help with particular subjects, let me know! And if you need any more help in general, even with me reading an online text so I can help you understand it, feel free to send me more asks or IMs! I hope this is all coherent.

#studyblr