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isadcrajade · 4 years

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💀 * [ barbie ferreira + cis female + she/her ] —— have you met isadora oliveira ? they are a twenty-one year old sophomore currently studying fashion design & merchandising. they live on keating house, and word around campus is that this aries is loyal + warm, as well as self-objectifying + obsequious. i wonder if they’ll make it out alive. chocolate covered strawberries, gothic platforms, lingerie under leather jackets.

hiii bbies it’s me (gabby) finally here again to post this finalized, messy version of isa’s intro! she’s a brand new never-been-played muse of mine so it’s def bound to be a bit more scattered & less developed than ezra’s, but also much shorter? so i mean there’s a bonus lmao alright here we go:

so isadora (also known by many nicknames such as isa, izzy, iz, & dora the explora if ur trying to piss her off vgbjhksjs) was definitely not brought up in a world of prestige and recognition like the one she’s become so accustomed to in attending holloway university

growing up in the small town of lisbon, maine the only reality isa knew during her childhood was that of living as the only child of a woman who was (TW) both a compulsive liar & and compulsive hoarder. their house was floor to ceiling with things her mom collected as well as garbage built up over time- her condition had already driven isa’s father out of the house when she was just three years old, and she never had a relationship with him as a result

she was still fairly young when she realized the true severity of her own situation, just how abnormal it was compared to that of her friends. she missed out on so many rights of passage during her upbringing like birthday parties, sleepovers, etc. for much of her life her own living space / bedroom were just as bad off as the rest of the house, given her mom’s inability to keep from passing her hoarding tendencies onto her daughter. isa simply didn’t know any better at the time. to her, that was normal.

not only was her mom a compulsive liar & hoarder but she was also extremely neglectful, often leaving isa to her own devices in the dangerous environment they called home. as a result of this she (TW ED) developed harmful coping mechanisms surrounding food, regularly overeating to combat negative feelings of loneliness, and this went on from the time she was just a little girl all the way until she was in high school

high school was rough in many ways- she suffered depression, anxiety, experienced bullying at the hands of the more popular kids for her weight & her mother’s financial situation, and was all around extremely isolated from her peers- the only person she really had to depend on was her cousin (WC) . she had so much respect and envy for her cousin, they had more of a sisterly dynamic than anything, she was just so gorgeous and everything she did just seemed so effortless, to the point isa couldn’t help but idolize her and consider her a best friend.

like, remember when spongebob said he hoped that by being in squidward’s presence some of his artistic ability would rub off onto him? that was deadass isa & (WC) in high school jhbksnjs my girl was so sure if she just spent enough time with her she’d inherit some of her pretty & cool

high school was also where she reached a turning point when it came to her home environment, able to put a name to her mom’s condition after years of struggling with her strained and toxic relationship with her mom, and ultimately changed the rest of her life. she stayed the night at (WC’s) one night and after she fell asleep, isa stayed up watching TLC- it was there that she first discovered the TV show ‘hoarding: buried alive’ and realized there was a name for her mother’s infliction- but more importantly, learned that there was help available for her condition

when she went home to excitedly tell her mother that she’d basically discovered a cure, a means to change everything for them... she certainly hadn’t been expecting the reaction that came: her mom, who’d always been so indifferent toward her, so lethargic and uninterested in what she had to say, was suddenly listening very clearly- and she was not happy. isa had never heard her mom scream like that, had never really heard her express any heightened emotion, but it was in that moment at 17 years old, just a few weeks away from her 18th birthday, that she realized what she needed to do. she had no choice but to make plans to leave her mom behind.

the final weeks leading up to the big day she was counting on as a turning point consisted of her cleaning out her own space, little by little, enough that she had somewhere to set up her secondhand laptop and webcam. blowing out the candles on her 18th birthday cake came with wishing for a whole new life, and she was determined to make that for herself by any means necessary.

(TW SEX WORK) isa spent half her 18th year in her room working as a successful camgirl, showing everything but her face, & of course always being careful not to dox herself. she eventually earned enough money to start buying herself nicer clothes, but it didn’t take her long to realize she wanted more from life than just rotting away in her hometown. she bought herself a higher quality webcam to keep making money... and a nice sewing machine, something she’d always dreamed of owning.

all her life she’d been drawing and sketching as a means of escapism, it’d always been therapeutic to her to be creative and conjure up unique designs for outfits in her mind, drawing models in all shapes and sizes to represent her fantasy outfits. but she never felt like a visionary, even though anyone with an eye for fashion who got a look at her work could see that she had the natural talent and potential to be.

isa had been an a straight-A student her whole life despite having almost no support at home from her mother growing up, and with plenty of encouragement from (cousin WC), she plucked up the courage and applied for holloway university, with ivory falls being far enough from her hometown of lisbon, but still in the same state so that she could go and see her mother from time to time (bc although their relationship is quite strained now, she still loves and worries about her)

the next summer she received her acceptance letter at holloway u for the coming fall semester, and the fact that she’d been able to make it into such a prestigious school made her feel so proud of herself that she completely underwent a massive arc of character development; evolving into someone so much more confident. realizing that plenty of people found her desirable as she continued to earn money through cam shows had been part of that transformation, but realizing she was talented enough to get accepted into the fashion design and merchandising program at her dream school had a completely different effect on her.

( TW BODY IMAGE ISSUES ) isa decided that as she entered college, she was no longer going to be the meek, insecure girl constantly playing the role of the doting, loyal fat best friend to the ‘prettier main characters’ she’d always been sidekick to- she told herself that she was the main fucking character in her life from here on, and has spent her entire college experience up to this point just,, navigating as she figures out what that really means to her

still has a terrible underlying tendency to be overly-loyal and a bit obsessive with girls she closely befriends, if she has any kind of jealousy towards them. but ! is a lot more confident than she used to be, and it shows in the way she dresses and carries herself, as well as in her long-term goals (to transfer to FIDM for her final years of university)

( TW ED MENTION ) as a young adult, she’s mostly she’s replaced the compulsion to deal with her body image issues by using food to cope that she had as a teenager... by using sex to cope instead, so she’s definitely a bit promiscuous but does her best to keep that Her Own business

personality-wise she has a massive heart & is loyal to a fault but is also wild AF & loves a good time! never rly dabbled in drugs until she got to college but since then has acquired an interest in trying everything under the sun, even if it’s just one and done. mostly though she just likes to get really drunk & stupid. used to feel like she was constantly living in her cousin’s shadow, & in some ways she still does, but she’s trying hard to make herself believe that she’s reached a place where she won’t be playing second fiddle to anyone, ever again

i’m gonna shut the hell up now & stop pretending i know this character better than i do bc i deadass do not jbhnjss like she’s literally brand new so lemme go head & leave plenty of room for development!

same story as ezra i’ll have a full connections page posted for her soon but in the meantime some ideas i have are: friends, frienemies, ex friends, high school bullies, classmates, old high school friends, people she gets fuckt up with on the reg, people she hooks up with on the reg (any gender, she’s bisexual / biromantic), someone she had a crush on in high school / has pined for from afar maybe?? someone who used to watch her cam shows?? someone she almost kinda dated but Not? someone who she hooked up with while they were dating someone else?? idk that’s what i have for now but there’ll be more where that came from <3 xoxo like this or hmu !

#holloway.intro #this is a hot ass mess #but i'm rly excited to finally play her x

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segenassefa · 4 years

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2: On Consumerism, Fighting Demons, and Societies Inevitable Collapse

Quarantine has been lowkey surreal. My constant complaint of never having enough time to do all the things I want/should be doing has now left me bored in the house, bored in the house, bored with nothing but time to get said things done. However, it is a dual edged sword - with the collapse and subsequent reformation of civil society outside my doors, it leaves me wondering – as well as a lot of other people – in the words of Miss Juicy…what the hell we gone do now?

Nearing the end of the first leg of my university career, I should be thinking about getting ready to transition to the next logical stages of adulthood - saving for an apartment, applying for permanent residency, as well as graduate schools and part time jobs. Yet, I’m worried about if these things will even be a possibility within the next month, six months, or even the next year.

On top of ALL of that, the recent BLM protests and the way that people (read: white people, Latinxs, Black men, homo/transphobes, etc.) have shown their asses the past few months is beyond mortifying - especially regarding the treatment of black women and how our value as individuals as well as a collective to society is really perceived.* This is not to downplay the murder of numerous black men in society, BUT who the fuck is riding for black women aside from other black women? And not just the ones who find attractive, or are racially ambiguous, or the ones you feel as if you get “guilted” into supporting and demanding justice for, I mean each and every black woman. I’m just saying, it gets pretty disheartening to feel like the legwork of the revolution is on the back of one category of people, and that your value to society is measured by the amount of emotional labour you’re ready to do for others, or how fat your ass is (but I digress…).

I feel like most people have used material things as coping mechanisms instead of actually facing their feelings and dealing with the things that bother them. Just think of the number of packages that have arrived on your doorstep the past few months. Breaking the glossy seal of packing tape is similar to therapy, until all the boxes are open, and you start feeling like shit again. And now, more than ever, there’s a lot to be bothered about. Western society has dedicated phrases based on the phenomenon of substituting true self-work with figurative emotional bandages (Phrases like comfort eating and retail therapy come to mind).

It’s nice to think that we – the people entering their adolescent and young adult years – will be the one to change these things, but suddenly it’s 2 am, you have twenty different things in your Amazon cart, (who the fuck needs a metal straw cleaning kit?) and you’re trying to see how far you can stretch and grab your debit card before falling off of the bed.

The conflicting messages pushed by society don’t help all that much either. If you look up “Kondo method” or “decluttering my closet” on YouTube, the numbers of videos that come up is astounding. Pages and pages of sweaty-faced, smiling YouTubers monetizing from this kind of faux “minimalism” only to post haul videos a few days later because “I threw everything out and now I have to rebuild from scratch sksksk!”. Does this not just perpetuate a cycle of buying and throwing and buying? I am....confusion, to say the least. Still I watch them, because I’m a hypocrite, and am also easily amused.

I will be the first to admit I have always had a very unhealthy relationship with money, with self-image, and with measuring my self-worth in proximity with “stuff that stems from a complicated relationship with physical self. Follow along:

Growing up, I was a fat kid. We don’t even have to sugar coat it. Think Terrio, but better eyebrows and more hair. Except I was not killin’ em, just myself. I always envied my friends who were able to go shopping at regular stores – read: Hollister, Abercrombie, Urban Outfitters (yes my friends were white), meanwhile I was condemned to shopping in the women’s department.

So, to compensate, I would buy trinkets – things like nail polish, lip gloss, journals, you get the point. My proximity to worthiness was measured not by the things that I bought, but within the act of buying. Growing up with parents who were also financially frugal also altered my relationship with money and blessed me with crippling buyers’ remorse after every purchase, even on things that are important (read: groceries).

But as a kid, buying “stuff” was fun for me – it gave me some sort of purpose, and the acquisition of things (even if they weren’t the same things my peers had) made me feel like, to some extent, I could compete on the same playing field. As I got older, and I started to have real expenses, I moved towards second-hand shopping. I would religiously find myself at Goodwill on weekend, after school, or with friends. I could literally feel an endorphin rush when I would find something that I would consider a “good deal”, and it made me feel (again) purposeful, to be spending money, even if I didn’t need whatever I was buying.

I should also add that the people in my immediate family does not believe in thrift stores (“Why am I working for you to wear other people’s clothing?”, I remember my dad asking me one day), so the act of second-hand shopping was also my form of rebellion.

I began to amass a collection of clothing that would put Kylie’s closet to shame. I began buying things for events and situations that were yet to happen, for other people, for when I lose ten pounds. It was a madness.

In freshman year of university, I had an unhealthy relationship with clubbing clothes. Did I have the figure for clubbing clothes? Absolutely not. The funnier part is, I couldn’t even go clubbing because I wasn’t 19 at the time. And yet I had drawers and drawers full of the stuff. Not to mention that clubbing clothes is incredibly similar to summer clothing and living between Minnesota and Canada meant that these things were barely seeing the light of day.

The moral of this was – I could never figure out my relationship with stuff, This quarantine has forced me to try and break down the compulsion behind my behaviour. I felt like I was spiralling the six weeks that they closed thrift stores, and I knew myself well enough to not try and online shop with the same kind of frequency as that. But the crazy part was, I didn’t die. I didn’t go into withdrawal (ok, I did a little bit, but whatever), and I was able to take the time to go through the things I already owned and find some hidden gems that were routinely buried in the cracks and crevices of my closet. It was like the episode of Family Guy when Peter realizes he has a vestigial twin – alarming and cool at first, but then it’s just alarming and annoying.

Its more embarrassing to realize that some semblance of myself image is tied to the frequency with which I am able to spend money. I would never say that participating in capitalist society gives me some kind of purpose as a black woman because God forbid. Also, considering that a lot of big names companies are actually racist and fatphobic as hell creates a whole new dimension for analyzing the power of my black dollar, sometimes creating another spiral of guilt leading to you guessed it – more spending.

As much as it seems like it, however, this self-reflection was not in vain. In the past month, I’ve cut down my closet from +200 pieces of clothing and shoes to about 40. If you ever want a fun, humbling activity this quarantine, just clean out your closet and be honest with yourself about how often you wear certain things. It was revolting to see the number of shirts, dresses, pants, skirts that I had bought and convinced myself wholeheartedly I was going to wear, only to pull them out of my closet months later with the tags attached *insert Marge Simpson covering her face meme*.

But at the end of the whole ordeal, it felt really good to look at my space and not feel burden or guilt. It was somewhat philanthropic realizing that not only will these clothes make someone else happier (I donated pretty much everything because it’s not always about money), but that my quality of life was not dramatically impacted in owning (or not owning) certain things. The past few weeks, I’ve spent more money on going out and sharing experiences with friends, but still nowhere near the same amount of money I would have spent buying clothes and other material possession.

Youtuber Kelly Stamps has a video on how minimalism “cured” her depression**, and the whole thesis boils down to the idea that owning less things gives you less to compare yourself too, thus making you happier (in a sense) and allowing you to focus the energy and time that would have been centered around maintaining and building your collection of possessions other things.

This still doesn’t break down the root of the issue, but it’s a start. I think when you have traits or patterns that you’ve participated in for so long, it becomes hard to step back and be objective enough to realize that you – yes, you – are part of the problem. I can blame my habits on a lot of things but at the end of the day, it’s important to realize that certain cycles seem never-ending because I actively choose to participate in these kinds of behaviours (accountability is sexy, huh?). While I’m not ready to face all my demons quite yet, it’s easier to do it with a nice wardrobe and a streamlined sense of mind.

Notes

*When I say black women, I mean ALL black women. Not some limited, cis-gendered, heteronormative view of what a woman is. Over here we ride for all those who identify as women.

**She emphasizes that she doesn’t actually means that it cured anything, but rather helped with her anxiety, and in turn, helped with her depression.

Links

That Family Guy Episode

The Kelly Stamps video

#cms #selfhelp?#consumerism

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

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Is there someone you’d like to hug right now? Not at the moment.

Do you feel like you’re gonna lose someone that means a lot to you? I pray that doesn’t happen for a very long time, but it is a thought that likes to creep to the forefront a lot for some reason to mess with me.

Do you want someone dead? No.

Why aren’t you in bed? I am.

How many hours did you sleep last night? Almost 9 hours, which is extremely unusual.

Last person you talked to? My brother.

How many different people of the opposite sex have you cried over? Too many.

Do you have any plans for tomorrow? Nope.

Do you like ferris wheels? Nooo.

Anything you’re giving up on? I’ve given up on a lot over the past few years. :/

What is on your mind right now? My mind is jumbled.

Are you waiting for anything to happen? I really wish it’d start cooling down now ughhh. We’re STILL having triple digits and high 90s with no end in sight. D: With the way 2020 is going, I’m honestly scared we’re going to get an even longer summer. In California it doesn’t start to feel like fall until like mid October, but we can see the temps dropping progressively. This year we’re having record highs for this time of year.

Do you like anyone right now? Not in the romantic sense.

Do you like to sleep? I love it.

Do you enjoy late night phone conversations? I don’t have any.

Last movie you saw in theaters? The Invisible Man back in February. I miss going to the movies.

Are you a jealous person? I can be, but I haven’t felt that in years. I feel envy often, though. :/

Do you enjoy Facebook? Sure. I don’t spend a lot of time on there, but there’s interesting stuff. On my feed, anyway.

Do you think someone is thinking about you right now? Nope. Could you go out in public looking like you do now? I’d fix my bun first. I don’t go anywhere nowadays except for my one doctor appointment a month.

Are you a morning person or a night person? Night.

What did you do Saturday night? Same stuff I do every night that I’ve listed many times.

Is your bed comfortable? Yeah, I mean it better be since I spend most of my time in it.

What were you doing at 1 in the morning? Eating ramen and watching YouTube videos.

On a scale from 1 - 10, how much do you like to cuddle? I don’t have much cuddling experience to be honest.

Has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes? Yeah, only like once or twice.

Get asked anything ridiculous lately? No.

Does it annoy you when people send three more texts while you are trying to respond to the question they asked in the text before that? Not really.

Do you like to read? I love to read.

Have you ever played a Wii? Yeah.

Would you ever become a vegetarian? No.

Who was the first person you talked to today? My brother.

Are you sarcastic? Sometimes.

How is school? I’ve been done with school for awhile now.

What color eyes does the person you like / love have? Are they pretty? I don’t like anyone in that way.

What color is the keyboard you are currently using? The keys are black with white lettering. <<<

When was the last time someone took your picture? My mom did on my birthday.

What color was the last jacket or hoodie you wore? Black.

Can you recite the alphabet backward? I could, but it would take me a little longer.

Do you eat chili when you get a hot dog, or do you like it plain? Was never much of a hot dog person, but on rare occasions I’d have a chili dog or one with just mustard and ketchup.

Would you say it’s easy for people to make you smile or laugh? Usually.

Do you own any dresses? If so, what colors are they? I have one back dress.

Would you say you drink more pop / soda than you should? Nope. I only drink a little bit when I have to take my medicine, otherwise I don’t drink soda. I used to have one can or sometimes one 16oz bottle a day for several years until about 2 years ago.

Would you rather have orange juice or milk with your breakfast? Ew, two disgusting options. Give me coffee.

How many different colors has your bedroom been painted? Just white. I’ve never painted it.

Would you ever tell your mom about the things you’ve done sexually? Even though my mom and I are close, that’s not something I’d want to discuss.

What was the worst news you’ve heard this entire week? My state is still burning, in fact yet another huge fire started recently because of someone’s gender reveal party gone wrong. That really infuriates me because it’s like, we’re already burning and they decided to literally add more fuel to the fire. It’s fire season and we’re having triple digit temperatures, like wtf were they thinking? AND we’re in a pandemic, why were they having a party anyway??? Ugh. In other bad news, it’s still really hot and there’s no cool down in site. D;

Have you ever been in a car wreck? No, thankfully.

Do you have your ears pierced? If not, what do you have pierced? I do.

Has anyone ever told you that they think you have ADHD? No. I can’t imagine why anyone would think I had that.

Would you say you’re really good at cooking and baking things? Uh, no. I don’t cook or bake.

How is the weather outside right this second? At 5:32AM it’s 73 F. That is way too warm for this early in the morning.

Do you have a lot of trees around your house? What about buildings? Around the neighborhood, yeah. There’s a lot of buildings nearby as well.

Has anyone ever called you a sociopath before? No. I can’t see why anyone would call me that either.

What did you last heat up in the microwave? My eye mask when I was dealing with that awful stye last week.

What is the last thing someone bought you? Food.

Who was the last person you talked to last night in person before bed? I’m still up, but my brother came to say goodnight a few hours ago as he was headed off to bed.

What are you listening to? An ASMR video.

Have you made a mistake this past week? I make a lot of mistakes.

Has anyone ever taken your clothes off of you before? No.

Have you ever stayed up at night waiting for someone to call/text you back? I’ve waited for texts/IMs in the past.

Have you ever touched a dead body? I touched my grandma’s hand at the viewing. I’m surprised I did that, but I was an absolute mess when she passed away and seeing her lying there like that was really hard and for some reason I just did it. I almost wish I hadn’t because I don’t want that image of her in my mind. It also made it harder because touching her was obviously not the same as when she was alive.

Were you anybody’s New Years kiss? Nope.

Laptop or desktop? Laptop. I haven’t had a desktop since like 2004. After that, the only time I used one was at school.

Don’t you hate when radio stations continue to play the same songs? That was always annoying, but it’s been a few years since I’ve listened to the radio, so I no longer have that problem. Although, I listen to the same stuff on my Spotify playlist lol but that’s different okay.

Does your bedroom door have a lock on it? Yes.

Have you ever had a real tea party? Or been to one? I went to a cute tea place with my Nana, aunt, and cousin for high tea on my Nana’s birthday a few years ago. The finger sandwiches and desserts were delicious. I forget what tea I had, but it was good.

Where’s the last place you got Mexican food? This local place.

Have you been called a tease? Yeah, which I never understood. I never led him on, used him, or played him like he did me.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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simstationdance · 4 years

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@jeebie-sims asked: for the headcanon meme: Daniel Pleasant, Johnny Smith, and Mortimer Goth

ok so i apparently had a lot to say about these three, especially johnny and mortimer because they are favorites of mine. i was also inspired by the pictures u put in your answers to the shipping asks, so i decided to pair a few pictures with my answers.

i would’ve answered this as a regular ask, but for some reason, applying a read more to an ask applies it to the ‘question’ part of the post and not the actual body of the post where it should be, and not actually truncating the post at all. i couldn’t fix it no matter what i tried and eventually i gave up. tumblr is a Functional Website.

answers under the cut because i’m a turbo nerd who wrote way too much. i hope you enjoy it nonetheless

(headcanon ask meme)

Daniel Pleasant

Sexuality Headcanon: straight

Gender Headcanon: man

A ship I have with said character: daniel x marriage counseling. no, really.

ok but in all seriousness, it’s obvious that dan and mary sue really really need to work their shit out and i don’t think they could do it easily, if at all. if nothing else, they’d stay together for their public image I MEAN their kids whom they clearly love sooo muuuch

(meanwhile i’m certain angela and lilith - especially lilith - would rather their parents divorced because the tension in the house is so fucking thick you could cut it with a knife, and that’s not a healthy environment to grow up in)

i don’t really ship him with anybody, to be honest. i know he’s with kaylynn on the side but i don’t personally see her sticking around, especially in the aftermath of a destroyed marriage.

unless he actually gets his shit together, i can’t imagine him being able to fully commit to a relationship, as evidenced by his abysmal relationship with his own wife.

A BROTP I have with said character: hmmm. maybe dan and don would be friends? i mean, they’re both cheaters, and they’d become social pariahs for it, but they’d be in it together, at least. meanwhile, their respective marital exes can get together to actually have a happy relationship.

for all i know, don might’ve actually convinced dan to take the plunge into debauchery in the first place. like he was like “don’t you miss when you were a carefree bachelor, dan?” and dan’s like “yeah man i miss that life” because its obvious he’s going thru a mid life crisis, so don basically encourages him - wittingly or not - to cheat on his wife. and they’re probably unaware that they’re both dating the maid.

oh fuck. now that i think about it this makes perfect sense.

A NOTP I have with said character: i guess daniel and mary sue? like, it’s an obvious answer but i literally almost always expose him as a cheater to her when i play the pleasants lmao their relationship really does not stand a chance.

A random headcanon: daniel usually prefers peace and quiet, so the constant arguing between his daughters - mixed with his poor relationship with his wife and the secret he keeps from her at the start of the game - makes it very hard for him to want to be around his own family.

instead of taking more initiative to take control of his domestic life, daniel instead opts to run from his problems. because he’s a Bastard. he envies his sister for having a healthier marriage than he does, unaware (or unwilling to entertain the thought) that perhaps jennifer and john have their own problems too.

General Opinion over said character: daniel is an absolute wet moldy rag of a man and his soap-opera-esque suffering amuses me.

Mortimer Goth

Sexuality Headcanon: pansexual.

Gender Headcanon: man

A ship I have with said character: i mean, the obvious answer would be mortimer x bella 5evr. they really are, or... were, a lovely couple. back in the sims 1 days, they were the ‘adorably eccentric’ goth family.

his wife had her strange magic, and he had his weird science, and together they were a power couple to end all power couples. but the thing is, i don’t imagine their relationship was built to last. mortimer had far more ‘energy’ than bella did, and although they were a match, it was often difficult for her to keep up with him and his... mortimerisms. obviously bella had her quirks, but mortimer was something else. people often wondered how they managed to work together.

and as for his relationship with dina in the sims 2... well, the way i see it is, after bella’s disappearance, mortimer was utterly distraught. dina came to introduce herself and perhaps comfort him, since she was bella’s former sister in law, and in his weakness, things slowly escalated.

but even in his old age, mortimer is a highly intelligent and intuitive man who, i think, could read just about anyone like a book. if dina was just a run of the mill gold digger, he would’ve dropped her like a rock because he’s smarter than that. therefore, i’m almost certain that their relationship goes deeper than dina being interested in his wealth.

A BROTP I have with said character: this might seem odd, but mortimer and bonehilda in both the sims 1 and the sims 2. listen, i know she doesn’t appear in the sims 2... officially. but that doesn’t stop me from modding her into the game. and i have done exactly that.

the best part about acquiring the skeleton maid was that mortimer finally had somebody to ramble endlessly to about his latest ideas, the things that kept him up at night, but he didn’t want to bother bella while she was trying to sleep.

previously, he’d get an idea and would enthusiastically slams the door open like “BELLA I JUST HAD AN AMAZING IDEA!!!” and bella, laying in bed, would say “it’s the middle of the night and i have a golf tournament in the morning, dear.” and at that, mortimer would back out and slowly and quietly close the door.

so while bonehilda was tidying up the house, he would be essentially pacing around and talking to himself. thinking aloud helped him keep his thoughts in order - he has so many of them - and she would dutifully listen to his every word.

unfortunately he eventually had to retire the maid, she would frequently emerge from her coffin at inopportune times while bella was entertaining guests and they’d run out screaming.

bella also got tired of her drinking her cocktails and leaving puddles everywhere.

A NOTP I have with said character: i’d make jokes about it but i probably wouldn’t ship him with his skeleton maid. other than that i can’t think of any.

A random headcanon: mortimer is the very definition of mad scientist. open the page in the dictionary and you will find his picture.

being a knowledge sim, i feel like mortimer would do anything in the pursuit of knowledge, because he’s perpetually overwhelmed with curiosity and a desire to understand everything about the world, even if that often drives him to doing strange and, perhaps, unethical things in the name of science...

his curiosity led him to his chosen field in the first place. he was a bit of an amateur scientist even before then. as he rose through the ranks in his career and gained more notoriety for his scientific pursuits, he also took quite a lot of heat - some of his more bizarre experiments caused a great deal of scandals in his younger years.

he always managed to get back in the public’s favor, and he eventually got the last laugh against the press because he retired with a huge fortune.

General Opinion over said character: i’ve never been able to put my finger on it, but something about mortimer has always, ALWAYS felt extremely shady to me... and that’s what makes him interesting.

Johnny Smith

Sexuality Headcanon: bi

Gender Headcanon: man

A ship I have with said character: johnny x ophelia is cute, but johnny x ripp is also cute. you know what’s even cuter? all three of them together. they are so wholesome and good.

in my experience with strangetown (both in my current project and in an abandoned uberhood i did a while back), ripp usually has no romantic interest in ophelia and 100% interest in johnny, just on his own. their lack of feelings for each other, however, doesn’t stop them from both being with johnny, if they ever decided to do so. the only thing stopping them is their own personal convictions and... fear. as is the standard for these kinds of relationships, it would take a A Lot Of Work.

i’m sure johnny really loves them both, just in different ways. i see him as being the very physically affectionate friend who gives hugs out like candy and they both love him for it because they’re both touch starved as fuck. (that’s what you get when you have olive specter and buzz grunt as parental figures)

even tho it’s his first, the progression of his relationship with ophelia feels very natural to him. meanwhile, the idea of him and ripp together has never crossed his mind, not because he wouldn’t be interested, but because... um, well, he has a girlfriend, so... imagining himself with people other than his girlfriend would be weeeeird, you know? yeah...

he might also be a little oblivious, so that’s probably why he hasn’t picked up on ripp being weird around him yet. so ripp’s watching johnny be affectionate with ophelia like “god i wish that were me” and then johnny’s like “ripp are you ok” and ripp is like “haha yeah bro i’m great!!! :’)”

he’s always there for ophelia, and if ripp were willing to open up to johnny more often, he’d do the same for him.

A BROTP I have with said character: johnny!!! and!!! ripp!!!

whenever ripp is at johnny’s house, Which Is Often, they usually play SSX 3 together. johnny is better at it than ripp is, but at least ripp can beat him at darts on the dartboard on the back porch. they’re equally matched when it comes to playing pool, however.

they also really like to make dumb jokes at each other, including dumb puns and other such groan-inducing jokes read from vintage joke books and candy wrappers.

A NOTP I have with said character: hm... i can’t think of any because i don’t really ship him with anyone other than his two friends.

i could say johnny and tank but honestly that would be a total lie because i can imagine plenty of reasons to ship them, oddly enough. i don’t, but i can see why some do.

A random headcanon: johnny has basically spent his entire life surrounded by people - family, friends, etc. - to the point where being totally alone actually scares him quite a lot. he’s a popularity sim after all.

and, as unhealthy as it is, he really feels like its’ his responsibility to bring balance to ripp and ophelia’s lives by being the fun cheerful affectionate buddy, who always tries to lend an ear and a shoulder to cry on. he’s a little scared that if he didn’t hold them together at their worst, then they’d fall apart.

it’s a lot of work and he loses sleep from it sometimes because holding other people together is Actually! Very! Stressful! but he dreams of being a hero on a white horse and all, so if he has to, he will be the hero they need. he doesn’t want them to worry about him, he doesn’t want them to feel like they’re burdening him, so he never tells them that.

General Opinion over said character:

#|| ask #jeebie-sims #daniel pleasant #johnny smith #mortimer goth #tumblr was like 'u dont get to make ur post look fancy'#i put a weird amt of effort into this for a sims headcanon post #why? bc i felt like it

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phantombones · 6 years

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VICTOIRE WEASLEY really is the spitting image of DICHEN LACHMAN, right? For someone only TWENTY-SEVEN years old, VIC has been forced to endure so much. Yeah, that 1/8TH VEELA has been scraping by at the sanctuary since MARCH 2028, working as a SOLDIER in the DIVISION OF PROTECTION. SHE identifies as GENDERQUEER and is known to be RELENTLESS and SELF DESTRUCTIVE but also LOYAL and STRATEGIC. Best of luck surviving through this.

CHARACTER INSPO: Mercutio ( R+J, some book influence, LITERALLY the only I really need ), Kady Orloff Diaz ( The Magicians ), Sara Lance ( Legends of Tomorrow )

PINTEREST: [ x ]

Before I get into descriptions about her, I believe her function in the Order, and now the Division of Protections. Then after the breakout. Just some quick points about the NOW. After that will be characterization and base:

Was a Dragolonist traveling all sorts of places, living out her dream. She would consistently come home to visit her family, the love of her life Aster, who’s relationship I’ll get into more. When everything started to happen, she moved back home, finally settling down in Aster’s place ( it became theirs ) when it was once just a temp home. She didn’t sleep as she worked as a strategist for the Order, constantly thinking of ideas and plays, often visiting her family members at all hours of the night, patrolling, making sure they were okay.

Aster Lestrange ( unless the name is diff PLS LMK JO ) and her were first friends because they watched as she struggled to charm her hair the way she wanted ( she’s NOT the best at Charms, especially when it came to hair coloring charms ). Here was this person, who offered to do her hair, who saw her chaos and found it intriguing. Who saw her in her entirety, the dark, the angry and she fell in love with them before she even knew she had. They were her best friend ( besides her bffs Nova & Lexie and all her lovely family members ) and were together. After school, she was constantly working on taking her career off the ground, but practically had all her things at Asterion’s. Vic didn’t want to get married at first, not a for a few years, but the fact was? She loved them and she knew that they were her soulmate. Her red string. They got married and Vic truly wondered why they hadn’t done so earlier.

When the outbreak happened, she was scared and went to her dragon reserve in Romania to make sure the dragons were protected and her work archived and protected as well. She helped pioneer the movement to Hogwarts I imagine, and on the way, Aster died saving her life. At least, she thinks they died, as they protected her from an attack, was hurt, and just left. She knew them, she knew how much they cared about her but she aches and she hurts. Victoire broke down the minute she was safe in Hogwarts, the first time she’d cried that way in years, crying for what was probably hours. There’s a hope, because if anyone could still be alive it would be Aster who was brilliant beyond compare. Even though it’s nearing a year since she’s last seen them. Victoire doesn’t move on, doesn’t dye her hair different colors anymore as Aster had done it for years, even though it’s part of her it’s her version of mourning. Her hair back to it’s blonde reminds Victoire who she’s fighting for her besides her family, it’s the only grief she allows herself because she pushes forward. She has no option but to do so.

The anger that had been quelled and somewhat more under control for years, reared it’s ugly head with a vengeance. Victoire became a soldier because she was a dueling beast on the field, coming back from every mission covered in blood, guts, everything often using the knife collection she has on top of magic. I imagine that she’s also very much a fighter for them and protects people on supply runs, and while she wants to join the Government sector sometimes, she thinks of how much better Aster would be at the job instead. She has ideas, and her mind is strategic, but there’s not much strategy they can do when their main focus is on survival. While Vic tries to distract herself, when she’s not bothering & checking up on her family, she’s constantly training with with her wand and an array of muggle weapons. Over the last 8+ months, she’s sharpened her combat skills, learning all she can, pushing herself to exhaustion, because she can’t lose anyone else. She refuses to lose anyone else.

Vic’s personality is a mixed bag, something I’ve described below, but the way she is with people she loves and trusts and vastly different to people she doesn’t. She fluctuates from loud and crass, to charming and easy to get long with, to angry, aggressive, and combative. Childlike to serious, all of this at the drop of a hat. Her emotions are all over the place, she knows it, and without a war propelling her and just endless killing and surviving she doesn’t think she’ll be able to get a handle on it soon. Vic is ride or die loyal, the family member you ask to help you bury a body, the family member who’ll fight anyone at any time for you and a hell of a lot smarter than she acts.

Character Name: Victoire Apolline Delacour-Weasley

VICTOIRE: Twenty-seven years of hearing stories about those who died on her ‘birthday’ before her. Over a decade of not celebrating it when she realized what it meant to others. Of course, she understands that this is the burden she carries – while her cousins bear namesakes of those who had fallen before them, she is the painful reminder of the day they lost people – so they could win freedom. She is the h e l l f i r e that is left after a victory, scorching technicolor brutal memories into the minds of those who were left behind. Still, she is a Victory none the less, and her family adopted her May 2nd, when she was a baby. They chose her instead of the pain, they named her after the good instead of seeing the bad. Though she’s an Aries, the day is both a special day of happiness & a day of reflection. A bitter reminder. APOLLINE: The french derivative of the name Apollonia which comes from the Greek god, Apollo. Apollo, the god of the sun, prophecy, music, beauty, healing, poetry, plague and so much more. It could be said that Victoire is her own brand of beautiful – of course the Veela genes help ( or do they? ) but if there’s anything she’s gotten from this namesake it’s the love of music. She’s sure that if she wasn’t going to work with dragons when she was older it would be with music – something she practically speaks as a language. The name might sound too flowery or too soft for Victoire – but her grandmother from which she was given this name was still a Veela. She still had the siren song that was deadly to almost associated with her name. Still, just because Victoire is comparable to a constantly raging storm – she has times where parts of her mother and grandmother comes out. DELACOUR: While she embraces the Weasley, Victoire also embraces her mother’s French heritage. If there’s anything of her mother, of this side of the family that comes out – it’s when she speaks French. She refuses to call her mother anything but maman, and will quickly switch to French around her during Weasley-Potter-Lupin gatherings at the burrow to make her feel even a little more comfortable. For Victoire, the Delacour name embodies softness and embodies femininity that she’s not always connected to. It reminds her that she’s not been alone in being discriminated against or objectified, that others understand what it’s like to be in her place to some extent. It’s then that she’s able to embrace the girl, that she’s able to feel like one and not always so at war with her body and herself. WEASLEY: If the other parts of her name didn’t already come with enough precedence – perhaps the name ‘Weasley’ was the icing on the cake. She couldn’t be prouder to be a Weasley, no matter how much fussing her grandmother does or how everyone is in everyone’s business – Victoire knows she is lucky. Vic is well aware of how privileged she is & how her infamous family of blood traitors are lucky to have the life they do. Even though she looked different from her immediate family, so did so many of her other extended family members. She took comfort in the fact that Weasley-Potters were a mixed bunch, in personality, in races, in ideals, and her being different was celebrated. There may have been a thirst to know her heritage the older she got, one that would later be quenched, but her real family were the Weasley’s. They chose her, they were better than her blood family ever was, not that she could remember them.

Pronouns & Gender: She/Her or Gon/Gons. Victoire identifies as Genderqueer

gender dysphoria tw

C h a n g i n g. From the minute Victoire was born, she was always fidgeting, always moving and her first display of magic was at 4 years old, when she tried to change her hair blue like Teddy’s. Instead, it changed her beautiful crop of dark brown into a dirty blonde. Often, she’d find herself envying Teddy’s abilities to change, feeling uncomfortable in her skin and angry that it wasn’t as easy for her. As she grew older, she came to understand what her body was, what it would be and that she’d never be able to change herself like Teddy or change herself at all. Any change that she’d make would be permanent and she found herself not wanting that in the slightest. Not wanting to limit herself because while Victoire loved her feminine side – there was something she felt growing in her soul that was just … something else. She felt there was just so much else she couldn’t define. Masculine, feminine, in between, she felt comfortable in the fluidity of it all. It didn’t have a label but it became her, it was her, and it was confusing but it was who she was. Victoire did research and after a while the closest thing she could find to what she felt her gender was the term: genderqueer. Of course, after she realized this she told her parents, getting nothing but support from them. A reason they’ve let Victoire dye her hair so much and wear clothes that some parents would have heart attacks at, is so she feels like she has an option to be who she is. Even though they know that their child will be who she is with or without their permission, they figure helping her along the way in a world where there are many people who are against what her gender is & think it’s unnatural. They are Vic’s parents after all and after a war where they lost family and friends who gave their lives so their children could have freedom – it seems trivial to ever fuss over something like gender. At twenty seven, Vic is more comfortable in herself but still struggles. She keeps it to herself instead of talking about her own dysphoria because it seems trivial compared the apocolypse going on around her, compared to so much else.

About/past: ( SELF HARM MENTION, VIOLENCE MENTION, MISOGYNY MENTION )

Stoℜm with skin. The performer. { Secret Strategist }. Masochistic with sadistic tendencies because she is just so filled with A N G E R ( being sexualized at a young age, her ass pinched on her first Hogsmeade trip, and so so much more that she doesn’t have a language to explain it in — only violent actions ). N o t that she’d let you know. Warrior, no, VALKYRIE more of a DRAGON than a girl ( if she ever was a g i r l in the first place ), fiercely protective of the people she loves — and if you dare mess with her family, friends, or any of the sort, you better run for oblivion. V I C T O R Y in her veins that she will hold onto until her dying breath.

Victoire Weasley is more than just a simple human being, she’s the true embodiment of what it means to be a storm with skin. Enigmatic even.

Victoire is quite sure of who she is, what she wants in life & what she will get,she’s quite sure of everything that she is —-

…but in those moments she blacks out in pure rage — she’s not so sure.

She’s h o r r i f i e d. In those moments where she looks for pain like she’s a drug addict and it’s her next fix, she mortified. She can’t remember how it quite started – a punch to the wall there after a fight, a purpose slap in the face, anything that released the rage she had. Victoire didn’t dare release it on the people she loved because she’d never be able to forgive herself for that, but it grew. The feeling grew and soon she had to hurt herself. But she can remember when she knew. When she needed reminders, when she needed blood and big bruises to litter her body. It’s something she’s so ashamed of, that she hasn’t let on to anyone. A reason Victoire craves fights and sometimes throws them is because of this masochistic need to hurt herself, to take a break from the anger – just letting people beat her to unconsciousness. Her anger is so great, so c o n s u m i n g, there’s the small hope if she finds a way to release it somehow – it’ll go away.

“I will always scare; and more than anyone else — myself.”

It was in House of Serpents that she learned there is grey. There is moral grey, and it’s where she lives. With a heart so big, so W I D E, that even she doesn’t realize it’s part of the reason her anger can consume her. Feeling things for Victoire Weasley is never half arsed, it’s full arsed, and her passion, her ambition, could be the death of her. Her ambition to save the ones she loves, to protect her family. F a m i l y. A word redefined by Victoire fucking Weasley.

But when you meet her, she’ll s m i l e. She’ll laugh, she’ll charm you if she needs to and she’ll talk about the fact that Freddie Mercury is much more interesting than John Lennon, thank you very much. How Johnny Cash, Jeff Buckley, Arctic Monkeys, HAIM, and Aerosmith should be listened to at least once a day and how if she wanted anyone’s singing voice besides Freddie’s, it would be Hayley Williams, no doubt. She’d take off her shirt to show you the tattoos that run down her back, tell you about the ones that s n a k e down shoulders, arms, legs and how they’re ones dedicated to each and every one of her family members. For her best friends. For the person she loves. With child like w o n d e r m e n t and pure genuine glee, she’ll talk about her dragon, Mercury, and how her and Hagrid had planned to try to start a campaign to get real dragons at Hogwarts — or at least they had. Never has she doubted being a Dragonologist and never has she had so much peace.

Then, the war broke out bringing Inferi with it.

She had to put herself together, she had to keep herself more composed. Louis needed her. Dominique needed her. Aster needed her. They all did.

& she is now a hurricane. Controlled chaos because despite it all, she was a Slytherin for a reason. She’s manipulative, cunning, a silver tongue used mostly for words, and she felt she needed to become some sort of matriarch. There were crushing expectations that were supposed to do just that but were thrown out the window since day one. Now, the expectations of being Victoire Weasley must be embraced. Now, they are because her family needs her, and she finally can be what they wanted her to be. A leader of sorts. Their VICTORY. Beneath the chaos is kindness she shows to people, is the gentle touch and wise words that make you wonder — who exactly is Victoire Weasley?

Maybe she was born for battle. Valkyrie. “Fear doesn’t shut you down, it wakes you up.”

( For once, the storm that c o n s t a n t l y raged around in Victoire’s mind started to quell, a soft smile dawning on her face like a pink sunrise. The memory rushed back to her, it calmed her.

“I remember the first time I visited Uncle Charlie in Romania. And the dragons. So many fucking dragons.” Blue eyes light up, because this — this is her niche. Her favorite area to talk about, it’s what she knew — dragons.

“I remember seeing fire and just — I wrote to everyone everyday, I made Uncle Charlie take a million bloody pictures of me. Coming home, I wouldn’t shut up about them. I’d even forgotten to dye my hair that summer. Look —” She shrugs, the smile blossoming into something so genuine, so effervescent, the personification of someone who talks about what they’re passionate about, really. “ — I’ve gone there every summer since. And I’m going to let you in on a little secret, “

For a moment, Vic’s sure that she’ll open up, actually let someone in on a piece of her special world, in a crevice of her mind. But she can’t. She can’t talk about the fact that going to Uncle Charlie’s is the only place she feels calm, where she doesn’t feel a war in her brain that translates into bruised knuckles due to bar fights. How she likes the pain, that maybe she’s masochistic, deeply so. No, instead, there’s the m i s c h i e v o u s glint in her eyes as she simply says, “ — the Romanian Longhorn is much prettier than they are dangerous. “

The same couldn’t be said for Victoire Weasley. )

A hurricane, in the middle of a chaos, who came to find that maybe she was born to fight.

#inferi intro #vic tag tbd #I MEAN!!! ill never use that gif and she wanted to make an entrace~#entrance** jfc #this intro is such a mess it's like i wrote the first part as like a NOW summary and the second is her as a teen and early?? adult??#wyd jinx

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dailyaudiobible · 6 years

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05/08/2018 DAB Transcript

1 Samuel 2:22-4:22, John 5:24-47, Psalms 106:1-12, Proverbs 14:30-31

Today is the 8th of May. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian. It's great to be here with you today and gather around the global campfire and prepare to take the next step forward on our journey, which will lead us cover to cover through the Bible. And we're well on our way in this journey. We began a new era in the scriptures as we began the book of 1 Samuel yesterday and we talked about Samuel. And we're getting to know him in the scriptures. And so we'll dive back in and pick up where we left off yesterday. We're reading from the New International Version this week. 1 Samuel chapter 2 verse 22 through the end of chapter 4 today.

Commentary:

Okay. So, quite a bit of drama happening in 1 Samuel. The Ark of the Covenant is lost in battle, the high priest Eli dies as well as his sons. Let's remember we're still in the time of the judges, so a lot of anarchy. Samuel is growing up to be the last judge and he will definitely shift the culture through his leadership and through his life. I mean, culture doesn't charge overnight. Like, for example, in our lifetimes, culture has shifted many times because culture is constantly shifting. But this doesn't happen overnight, right? You have some who are wanting to move progressively into a brave new world and you have others who are wanting to move back to a place of safety that is known. And so, you know, you have people moving in opposite directions and then you have those who are kind of just exploiting the fears in all of it. And culture just moves and shifts like a wave on the sea. And so we've been seeing some of those downturns as we've moved through the book of Judges over those generations and we're still in that time. So, we have the high priest Eli and we've got his sons who are exploiting the people in a lot of different ways and have no reverence for the fact that they stand in the Lord's presence representing God to God's people. But that has not worked out so well for them and now Samuel will rise to prominence as a leader.

When we get to the book of Proverbs today we are left with some things to think about. A heart at peace gives life to the body. So, let's try to understand what we're talking about here. What is a heart at peace? This is a heart that is free from disturbance. What we would these days call drama. It's a heart that has found a place of tranquility. In fact, some translations use that word. A tranquil heart. A heart that is at ease, that is calmed, that is quieted. This, according to the Proverbs, gives life to the body. So, we can stop there. We're only halfway through this verse but we can stop there and we can ask those questions. Is that true of me? Is my heart at peace? Or am I riddled with anxiety and being pulled in every sort of direction and find myself in drama no matter where I step? Well then that's not a heart at peace. Which would explain maybe why we're not...we don't have a body at peace either. A heart at peace gives life to the body. And then the Proverb goes on because it's a complete sentence. We've only read half the sentence. So, it completes itself, giving us some clues at what disrupts a heart at peace. Envy rots the bones. Now envy is a pretty big and ancient word, being a deadly sin and all, but it's not a word that we use commonly now. So, exactly what is it that rots our bones? Envy is a feeling of being discontented inside that comes from a longing for something that's missing that you think or see that someone else has. And so that longing turns into resentment because they have something that you long for and you're discontented about it. And so it arouses this unease that spawns jealousy and coveting. Which boils down to one way that we as people try to achieve an identity that will never ever work. Comparison. And those of you ladies that were at the More Gathering this year, you know that Jill and the team spoke extensively about this exact thing, comparison. Obviously, I'm not a lady. But as it turns out, this is something very, very common among women. Comparing yourself to other women constantly, wherever you go. Like walking into a room and being able to spot the most beautiful put-together woman and disliking her outright, right off the bat. I mean, it's not a woman...it's not a gender thing. I mean, this is throughout humanity. Comparing ourselves to one another. Looking at how much better we're doing than someone else or how someone is doing so much better than we are and longing for that is envy. It's a way of trying to achieve an identity that is false from the get go. Your life is not her life. His life is not your life. What they have achieved is not your story, right? So, you can get on social media or whatever and start flipping through the pages and find yourself deep in envy. Because all of those people you used to know twenty years ago or whatever seem to be doing better than you are. But what we're looking at is the curated life that's the best version of that person's life and then we're envying it. And it's them on their best day and it's not even real. And we just see how quickly we can slip into envy. And if we'll observe ourselves, literally if we'll step away and try to catch ourselves every time that we move toward envy, we'll see that we're doing it more than we think. The problem is, envy leads us into disturbance inside of ourselves, right? It destroys the tranquility and quiet and peace of our own story. So, it doesn't give life to the body. It actually works against it. It rots the bones. So, if jealousy and comparison are a constant companion in your life, then this is working against you. If those are issues, well then there's envy and it is rotting you. And this boils down to the fact that you are trying to bolster or get, achieve an identity that is someone else's. So, you're saying, my life, this gift, these breaths, this awareness, this consciousness, this me that I've been given as a gift from God is not what I want. It's not enough. I want someone else's life. And so rather than changing our own lives to aim in a direction that feels more true to who we are, we just sit and take pot shots at people who we think have what we want. There is no life in that. It's a complete non-starter. It rots the bones. And, so, let's try to step outside of ourselves and watch ourselves when we move toward envy. Find those places, those triggers that are constantly pulling us into comparison and consider that that is rotting our bones. And may we remember we're here as a gift for a reason. We have our own story to tell. No one else can tell it. And we're telling it everyday through our choices, our motives, our heart. And if our heart is full of envy, than we're not telling the story we wanna be telling. We're just rotting our bones. But a heart at peace, one that is tranquil, gives life to the body.

Prayer:

So, Holy Spirit, we invite into that. We invite You into things everyday because Your Word brings up things we need to think about and gives us clarity. And there's significant clarity in this one sentence. A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones. And so we ask, Holy Spirit, that You would show us the places that we are rotting away in envy and we reject that. We reject it in the name of Jesus. The only way we will ever have an identity is that it be bestowed upon us by You. And the fact that we are here is proof that You have given us an identity. And so we seek our identity in You and You alone and ask Your Holy Spirit to give us a heart at peace and life to our bodies. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In Jesus name. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website. It's home base. It is certainly where you find out what's going on in the community, so be sure to check it out.

Pray for people at the prayer wall. Check out the resources that are available.

And if you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, that can be done at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There's a link on the homepage. Thank you. Thank you for your partnership. This is how we continue day by day as a community, so thank you. If you're using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is P.O. Box 1996, Spring Hill, Tennessee, 37174.

And as always, if you have a prayer request or comment, 877-942-4253 is the number to dial.

And that's it for today. Let's think about our identity. Let's think about envy and the rot that it is. And allow the Holy Spirit to move us in a direction that will lead to life. I'm Brian. I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

This message is for Terry the truck driver. Terry, this is Bob from Michigan and I just want you to know that you don’t have to worry about the assurance of your salvation because if you have given your life to Christ He hasn’t forgotten. You’re in. Terry, you are not a truck driver. You are not an addict. You are a child of God. He loves you. You are made in His image and likeness and He loves you to pieces. We have all fallen short Terry. We’re all, once we’re saved, on that road to sanctification, where we’re desperately trying to be more Christlike every day but we slip, we fall, we fall back. I’m reminded of second Corinthians chapter 1 verse 9. It says, indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death but this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. So, Terry, the only way out of this pit is with God’s power. You need to start every day with what I call ‘kill and fill’. Dear God, kill the sinful desires of my flesh and fill me with Your Holy Spirit, with Your healing Holy Spirit. Terry you’ve been trying for 30 years to stop these habits on your own and it hasn’t worked has it? God is the only one that can pull you out of the pit that you’re in and put your feet on a rock. Just read Psalm 40. Put your trust in Him and He will pull you through. You are not riding as a Lone Ranger out there. There are many of us who sin and have fallen back.

My name is Jeanette. I’m from Tulsa Oklahoma and back in March, Deborah in Michigan called in requesting…actually she didn’t request prayer…she wanted to call in and just tell Brian and Jill how grateful she was. And I just wanted to echo that. When I first started listening to the Daily Audio Bible the first year, the end of that first year, it was like somebody stood up on the inside of me. And that second year when I listened, it was like there were bones that now had muscle on them. And there was a year or two ago when Brian, you were going to, you wanted to change the end greeting, what is it, the salutation. And I think everybody called in and said, ‘don’t change it…when you’re saying at the end that you love us and that you’ll be waiting for us here tomorrow’, just, when you hear that, I can’t even explain what that does to someone who is dry and wary. So, I just wanted to thank you Brian and Jill. We just want to speak blessings over your family, peace and prosperity. We just want to honor you for what you’re doing. Honor and glory and power to the one who has brought you to this place, to provide this podcast. Thank you. Thank you so much. God bless you. Bye.

Hi Daily Audio Bible family. I’ve been a listener for about two years now. You can call me Hopeful. And I’m calling because, it’s hard for me to call. I always pray with everyone who calls in. And thank you so much for what you do Brian and all the regulars. It just, it feels like a family. It’s such an amazing experience. I never feel like I should call in because, I know that I’m praying with everyone, I don’t feel like I need to say it, but I’m calling for, I don’t know of his selfish, but it’s for myself and my family, my husband. We just haven’t been able to have children. It’s been a really long hard struggle. I had one miscarriage…and…just…we both want children so bad. And I’ll be 40 this year. So, I still pray and ask the Lord that He would bless us, but I’m just kind of losing hope now. The doctors pretty much have told me it’s almost impossible. So…I just…but I know nothing can stop the will of Christ. And, so, I would love your prayers and just to stay hopeful and I’m not giving up and I know a lot of people have kind of nicely tried to let me know that it’s probably too late but I’m not giving up. And I’m praying for all of you and with you and I just thank you so much for your encouragement, your encouraging words and prayers. Please keep me in your prayers as well. Thank you.

Hi family. My name is Diana. Call me Fearless in Love. Today is May 5th and we heard the story of Ruth and Naomi begin today. I named my daughter Naomi and it means sweet. She is so sweet and kind. And I would like you to pray for her. She’s 4 years old and I want her to grow in love. And that was my mantra. There is no fear in love but perfect love casts out all fear. I had a lot of fear but God helped me get rid of it and make it into love because He is love and I want that for her and all the children. Let’s pray. Dear God, thank You for Your perfect love. Thank You for this story of two women, a mother and a daughter who loved each other even though they weren’t blood. Help us to love like that every day. Amen. Family thank you for all your prayers for me even though I haven’t called before and know that I pray for all of you. I want to pray for Diana D. who I heard previously. Sister, you are in my prayers and I love you. In Jesus name. Amen.

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muthur9000 · 7 years

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The Poetry Of BLADE RUNNER 2049

Warning: This piece contains major Blade Runner 2049 spoilers. “Sometimes to love someone you gotta be a stranger.” By PRISCILLA PAGE Oct. 14, 2017

But in the case / Of my white fountain what it did replace / Perceptually was something that, I felt, / Could be grasped only by whoever dwelt / In the strange world where I was a mere stray.

Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire

In Pale Fire, the fictional poet John Shade sees a tall white fountain during a near-death experience - the image’s “presence always would / Console [him] wonderfully.” Later Shade reads about a woman in a magazine who came close to death, who visited “the Land Beyond the Veil” and also glimpsed a “tall white fountain” there. Shade finds the woman to share this with her, only to discover it was a misprint - it was not a “fountain” but a “mountain” that she saw. But the error changes nothing: the image of the tall white fountain had meaning not because it had some objective significance, not because it was empirical proof of an afterlife, but because Shade ascribed meaning to it. The fictional scholar annotating John Shade’s poem, Dr. Charles Kinbote, writes: “We all are, in a sense, poets.”

And Denis Villeneuve’s Blade Runner 2049 is a poem. It’s a neo-noir about the mystery of the self, empathy, connection, how we define what’s real, whether it matters at all. And it’s a love story about a replicant and a digital woman. Screenwriter Hampton Fancher explained that, “[K] is a handbook. He follows the rules. He’s a machine in a way. But the image was this: A handbook turns into a poem through his experiences and his ordeal and love. And the same thing with the digital woman.” While retiring an old-model replicant, Ryan Gosling’s blade runner K discovers the skeleton of a replicant who bore a child: a miracle. His superior, Lieutenant Joshi (Robin Wright), orders him to find and kill the child. But the mystery evolves when K begins to think he might be this miracle child of Rachael (Sean Young) and Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford). He finds Deckard living in a rundown casino, hoping his questions will be answered. He meets Deckard’s dog, who has a taste for whiskey. “Is it real?” K inquires. Deckard responds: “I don’t know. Ask him.” Deckard’s answer is a joke, but it’s also a kōan that illuminates Blade Runner 2049.

Unlike the ambiguity of Deckard’s identity, K knows that he’s a replicant. The people who inhabit his world are shadows. The LAPD, Niander Wallace’s corporation, and a replicant rebellion are three dehumanizing forces in conflict: bureaucracy, capitalism, war. Lieutenant Joshi believes in a wall between humankind and replicants, and the preservation of order at any cost. She wants the miracle child killed, erased. The replicant rebellion wants the child alive, but Hiam Abbass’s Freysa wants Deckard dead in order to keep her identity safe. And “industrialist” Niander Wallace (Jared Leto) wants the child so he can dissect her to reveal Tyrell’s secret to creating replicants capable of reproduction. He envies women’s natural ability to create. He’s a Dr. Frankenstein without figurative or literal vision. More than a scientist or a visionary, he is a capitalist commodifying beings, a colonist who wants humans to conquer the stars with replicant slaves. Wallace eviscerates a newborn replicant because she’s incapable of procreating. “A barren pasture. Dead space between the stars,” he explains, reducing his “angel” to her reproductive function.

Blade Runner 2049’s world is haunted by Niander Wallace’s intentions, by dehumanization, by the ghosts of digital women. This is a world where an orphanage is found in the city’s waste-processing district, its children reduced to slave laborers. This is a dystopian hell for women as well, but it foresees a future that belongs to them. Carla Juri’s Dr. Ana Stelline, the miracle child, is a woman, a revelation that subverts our story - and gender - expectations. And the miracle of Dr. Stelline is not just in the details of her birth, but in her empathy. At Stelline Laboratory, she lives in a glass case, manufacturing memories for replicants, creating literal joy for her kind, each memory an act of love, an art form. It is illegal to implant real memories, but Stelline does it anyway, sharing her own happy memories with them. Replicants live such hard lives, she explains to K, but at least she can give them good memories.

Dr. Stelline is perhaps Blade Runner 2049’s only remarkable character. No one shines like Rutger Hauer’s magnetic Roy Batty, and no one should. Roy Batty was Blade Runner’s Byronic hero, like Satan in Paradise Lost - and in saving Deckard’s life, he became a Christ figure. But K is Kafka’s Joseph K, navigating alienation, disorientation, anxiety, and banality in an absurd, bureaucratic, deadening universe. K is a replicant engineered to obey, “happy scraping the shit because [he’s] never seen a miracle,” but he becomes an “it” who aspires to be a “he” when he starts to believe he’s the miracle. K wishes he had a name, a mother. K hopes that he was born and not made, because then he might have a soul. Joshi tells him: “You’ve been getting on fine without one.”

Screenwriter Michael Green explained that Blade Runner 2049 was about a “character’s aspiration toward ascension.” Like John Shade discovering that his near-death vision was not shared, K realizes that his memory of a wooden horse didn’t belong to him after all. It means he is not Rachael’s child, that he’s not a miracle, not special after all, but it no longer matters. The moment K thinks he is more and wants to be more, he becomes more. His perception is reality. It reprograms him.

Discussing K’s digital companion Joi (Ana de Armas), Green said, “since we are defined by what we love, what [K] loved needed a story as well.” To the world, K is just a “skinjob.” To Joi, he’s a poem. She calls his DNA “the alphabet of you.” She tells him, “I always knew you were special.” If replicants are considered a secondary species, these digital women are tertiary, even more reviled. The sex worker Mariette (Mackenzie Davis) tells her, “I’ve been inside you. Not so much there as you think.”

Mariette’s comment reflects the disdain this world has for A.I. like Joi, but it also reveals that, like K, Joi believes she is more. Some will always doubt Joi’s sentience. But Joi loves the emanator, the gift that allows her to roam. She feels pleasure seeing raindrops on her digital skin. There is real wonder on her face when she looks out the window of K’s car, seeing the city and the sky for the first time, a response that isn’t for K’s benefit. Hiring Mariette so she can be intimate with K is her idea. “I want to be real for you,” she tells him. He responds: “You are real for me.” And she risks everything for K when she asks him to delete her from his apartment console so no one can use her memories to find him. She will only exist on the emanator, and if something happens to it, K explains, she will be gone. “Yes, like a real girl,” she responds. Joi’s death is a kind of Rorschach or a Voight-Kampff for the audience, testing whether we respond as if she’s a being with feelings, whether we empathize, grieve. Like Deckard’s dog kōan, if Joi perceives that she is “a real girl,” that she has a self, that she loves K, if her suffering and her wonder and her love feel real to her, then she is a real being with consciousness, as real as a replicant, a dog, or a human.

K’s love for Joi parallels Deckard’s love for Rachael. Niander Wallace’s hench-replicant Luv (Sylvia Hoeks) calls Rachael “unremarkable,” but Deckard disagrees. When Wallace offers him a cloned replicant of Rachael in exchange for his child, Deckard declines. She’s not the same. “I know what’s real,” he tells Wallace. She was special, remarkable, irreplaceable because Deckard loved her. K experiences the same disconnect in the scene that follows: he meets a giant advertisement for another Joi. She looks like his Joi, calls him “a nice Joe” as Joi once did, but it’s not the same for him, either. In this moment, maybe K questions whether his Joi ever really loved him at all. But maybe it doesn’t matter, because the love he felt for her was real. This Joi is not the same as his Joi. It’s the moment K decides to pursue Deckard - not to follow Freysa’s orders to kill him, but to help Deckard meet his daughter.

Freysa tells K: “dying for the right cause is the most human thing we can do.” To her, the “right cause” is war against humankind. To Joi and K, the right cause is love. Joi risks her existence and dies trying to protect K. K dies for love, but it’s not his own - it’s for the love of a father and a child, near-strangers to him. He knows that he isn’t the chosen one, and he helps Deckard meet Stelline regardless. In a pale echo of Roy Batty’s death scene, he dies alone, without the monologue or audience afforded Batty. Just the pleasure of feeling snow on his skin for the last time. Inside Stelline Laboratory, digital snow falls in Stelline’s glass case, and her wonder at this false snow is just as real as K’s. Though K may not be special in the way that Stelline is, K’s selfless act and his shared experience of snow with Stelline make this moment feel sacrosanct.

In his search for Deckard, K finds himself walking through the ruins of a city suffocated by radioactive yellow haze. A bee lands on his hand. He continues on and finds apiaries of bees, and he lets the bees cover his hand. The bees echo the replicants, the concept of hive mind. But they also represent hope, connection, “cells interlinked.” The bee is such a small, seemingly insignificant thing, with an enormous purpose: sustaining life. “Do you dream about being interlinked?” the post-traumatic baseline test asks K. The question essentially asks whether K dreams of being, whether he dreams of being connected to others. When Blade Runner 2049 begins, K is literally asleep at the wheel, and he doesn’t even consider the old-model replicant Sapper Morton his own kind, he passes the baseline test. But the handbook becomes a poem. By the film’s end, K rejects Niander Wallace’s idea of replicants as a “product,” he rejects Freysa’s commitment to war between species, he rejects Joshi’s notion that there’s a “wall” between beings. “We’re all just looking out for what’s real,” Joshi tells K. And what’s real to K is love.

#blade runner 2049 #bladerunner 2049 #ryan gosling #pale fire #vladimir nabokov

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fizzypunks · 7 years

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Industry Guidelines

Fandom: Shinee

Pairing: Jongtae

Genre: Angst

Length - 6.5k

Rating: T+

Warnings: Self acceptance issues, religious conflict

Notes: Jongtae are too precious and while this is a one shot, more Jongtae will be coming in the future

Enjoy, and share if you do!

There are rules.

That's all Taemin has to say about any of it, at least. Rules about that unspoken thing that everyone in the industry lives with; the one that doesn't call itself out but instead lays flatly against his feet as he treads on it.

That terrain is unexplored, but not unknown – a mystery to him as much as it is to spectators. It's a not-entirely-well-kept secret, something to know about but not speak of.

Taemin sees it sometimes, this big secret that's kept under wraps. He sees it with Kibum and Minho – he smiles at them in the mornings as they get walk out of the same bedroom, hair tousled and glowing smiles. He hears it at night in shaking bed posts and quickening breath between small breadths of drywall; he's heard the sounds for years – he's just… never talked about it, because that's one of the rules. But, he's known .

For years .

If he's not busy, building a career and distilling his talents, he'll catch a glimpse and wonder what it would be like. What being himself might mean in an industry that likes to trample the unconventional.

He's almost too caught up in his dance practice to want it, to want to be able to say that he wants the slice of life that his bandmates have been able to carve out for themselves. But then again, the music can't always out-yell the sound of his thoughts.

He's dancing too hard to notice it now, but when he can't sleep, he can't help but think that there's something wrong.

He doesn't know if it’s in himself, or the world, but it's wrong and it leaves a bitter taste in the morning.

Sixty-six, sixty-seven, sixty-eight.

He's staring at the wall, now, in the silence of his room and counts the rise and fall of Jonghyun's breath. The steady stream of life that he'd grown used to now, a background noise as comforting as a soft fan or the hum of a street light.

Jonghyun finally fell asleep, just before two in the morning – the first time in months he was able to find that evasive off switch to his brain.

Tortured genius, Taemin thinks, rolling over in his bed. He doesn't have the same sort of excuse, he reasons out in the dark, staring at the spot he knows Jonghyun is in the pitch-blackness.

He's trying to do anything but think about things that make his knuckles white with envy. Where is his sleep, now that his body aches and his mind needs peace?

Probably with Jonghyun, because seventy-eight, seventy-nine, eighty , and he's surely dreaming by now, stealing what was left of Taemin's willpower to shut the fuck up and get some rest . He can't be mad, but he's not very thrilled with his situation either.

Taemin sighs in frustration, a ball of anger hanging in his stomach as he practically feels the hours pass him by – the way his memory started to play, screens behind his eyes turned into movies that keep him awake and vividly aware .

It's clear as day sometimes, when the lights are dim enough, like pictures on a film roll. Like it is now, when his eyelashes flutter open and observe the nothingness of two in the morning and he returns to feigning sleep.

The thoughts – those memories that rattle around late at night– are of Jonghyun. They're all about Jonghyun and him and occasionally there’s mix of oddly attractive men he sometimes gets a good glance at (though mostly it's just his bandmate).

It's Jonghyun – his hair fucked up late after a real night of sleep, twisted in ways that look unflattering and entirely too much like I just got fucked . The way his shirt worked its way off him in his troubled slumber, or how warm his body is when he slips behind Taemin to hug him.

Then, it’s way he sometimes hears his breath come too fast, late at night when the A/C kicks on. Too shaky and breathy and desperately quiet in the middle of nights, when Taemin has been silent for long enough to be mistaken for sleep...

The reminder of sexuality is also something Taemin's learned to live with – there's only so many times a man can jerk off before someone walks in on it, after all. It happens, and Taemin's caught everyone with their hands down their fronts one time or another (or a half dozen other times, in some cases).

But, when it's Jonghyun…

He could only really think of how he really needed to sleep instead of think of –

No, he's not… not like that . He's their youngest, their makn a e , the one who was supposed to be pure and sweet and innocent and everything he wishes he was. He's what his image was shaped into – that was supposed to be him, and he was supposed to be happy with fame and his life and himself.

Why wasn't that the case, then? Why wasn't there a mold for him to cast his soul in so that it matched what his body, his fame, was?

He knows his soul best and it cringes at the way he smiles on TV, the way he talks, walks, sings, dances – the way it all feels like a complex lie that he built all on his own, no company assistance needed (though, possibly, maybe it was aided by the company). It felt like a shell already drained of its yolk, shiny and perfect but gutted for display for Easter.

Taemin bit back a hitch in his breath, that way you do when trying not to wake someone – not wake a roommate.

His soul cringes at all the things he does and all the things he says – or doesn't say, doesn't do when his fingers twitch to follow the curve of his own body, down, down, down –

Stop.

His hands always – usually – do.

There it was, again like a tireless lover that's never been satisfied: the way his body doesn't like to stay on the same page as his principles, the doctrines of his faith. His body was neither his lover or his friend and he wondered why he was cursed with it at all when all it did was give him away.

But then, there was the lack of obedience that also stayed within him, a side to the multi-faced coin of his life. It was the pestering, enduring idea that his ideology was– was fucked up. It was a thought that he brushed off every time he brought it up.

He often cursed his position in the band, the kid who debuted at fourteen, and how that image just stuck – he feels as bad about every awkward boner growing up as he does now, basically an adult who’s never been allowed those sort of thoughts.

And then there’s the way his eyes follow his hyung's hips as he walks the halls -- it’s not right, right? How he watches him too deeply in the morning when he wakes him in the morning, or passes him on stage, and there’s a thump in his chest like getting kicked by a horse.

It’s not right and he doesn’t dwell but then he thinks how badly, how strongly he wants to think that it could be okay. That if it were ever okay, ever, to think like he does, then it might be okay for him and that just once, it would be right.

It’s not easy, though. There’s no cure to impurity and when Jonghyun dances and smiles and brings him into his arms, or how he sings in the shower like he's composing the next masterpiece on their album, it almost hurts.

Taemin is eighteen. He's a man, and he's living with four other boys and god damn it if he's not in the prime of his sexuality, but… but he just feels bad . Bad and rotten like apples left untouched (maybe quite literally, the thought comes and goes) and everything else horrible that the world seems to smother him in with his age, with his gender, with his religion or the eye of the press.

What a joke it must be when he wakes up, hard and bluntly aware of every inch of fabric on his skin, of the draft in the room from the open door and the fact that Jonghyun is getting dressed just behind his back.

He's singing again, humming a tune from one of the lyrics he's working on. It's addictive – not the melody he hums but the way he does it.

That sort of passion and energy isn't easy to stand up against; rather, it’s like instinct to get swept up in it and never want to let go. Taemin wants to be pulled in, but instinct drives his feet into the sand, and the erosion does nothing to soften his determination.

Jonghyun is many things, but he is never ashamed of himself. Taemin hears the clarity and command of his whispering singing and he tries not to think about what comes after.

A cold shower and shaking hands are often where he finds himself.

Taemin catches an eyeful of lyrics every so often – stray paper here on the table or in the kitchen or floating around under his bed.

This time, he picks up the discarded paper and when he reads the lyrics scribbled on the scrunched parchment, his stomach knots. He looks for a second and by the next, he's torn it apart and crumpled it as much as possible.

Those lyrics, all sex and yearning and so obviously written about girls. About normality.

Taemin sulks all day and only feels whole once the dance room is his and his alone.

Jonghyun's girlfriend is nice. Her smile is free and so are her hands, always on his back or shoulders or drifting and exploring.

Taemin has that bitter feeling all the time, now.

Taemin resents Jonghyun's lyrics – even once he breaks up with her, Jonghyun can't seem to shake the way he wrote about how he felt about her.

It's hard for Taemin to sing about her and not feel broken.

He hates the romantic feelings worse than the sexual ones – sex was biology, was breathing and blood flow and the need to touch and be touched. The romance, the way he wanted to simply be with Jonghyun, dreaming of his smile and his voice and how good he was – that was not biology. That was chemistry.

He didn't want chemistry if it justified loving someone off limits.

He's eighteen and his career has kept him from many things, including the luxury of admitting to himself that he was in love with his friend. With a boy.

Also, maybe, it kept him away from romantic encounters that a lot of boys have had by this time.

There was a drunk encounter, and she was willing and he wasn’t but they still tried. That was last year and it was a mistake. No one knew and thank god they didn’t, he wouldn’t have an explanation for it otherwise.

It's embarrassing but he shrugs it off, stays in his corner and concentrates on doing his best in his craft -- life without sex wasn’t too bad if he worked hard on his career, on dacing, and that is what he started out in SM to do, after all.

It's kept him painfully confined to work and himself alone. Living with four other boys without a moment of privacy, he's never felt more isolated (even when they're taking care of their favorite maknae, checking in on him when he seems not quite right. Maybe his smile falters and maybe they're concerned, but he'll smile again and say that it's exhaustion and mental energy and he's actually “doing very well.”)

He's their little brother and he's utterly convincing.

It's embarrassing and he pretends it's not.

The company encourages dating within the ranks. Idols dating idols is easy to control, and it's easy to drive a private life in an industry that makes idol's time and attention worth more than gold.

Taemin has been told that if he were to date, it should be in the company. Girls from Girls Generation or Red Velvet or f(x). Obviously, it would have to be after his nineteenth birthday, but that he was assured was a right he had.

Taemin never does this. He's been asked out more times than he cares to count.

Taemin comes home late at night with that never-ending ache in his limbs that demand a hot shower. Dance is hell when it comes to deadlines, but he bears it in shaking thighs the best he can and when he’s done.

Minho and Kibum are at it – it's breathy and achingly loud and Taemin tunes it out when it gets too noisy, the way his friends make each other feel… good.

That's what it was supposed to be, right? Good? He's technically nineteen now but he suddenly feels twelve all over again. (Flashes from last year and that one encounter come to mind and absolutely none of it felt good, even the kisses.)

His shower turns cold after all, and his ears are drowning out more than just the moaning coming from down the hall.

Jonghyun slips into Taemin's bed. It's midnight and Taemin was just talking to him about the video game they just bought, how he thought it was too easy and that they needed to get a new one and then he slips into bed and suddenly Taemin is forced to think about how much he loves the man pulling him into a warm, engulfing embrace.

“Hyung?”

“I'm tired.”

Sometimes, Jonghyun can sleep if he's next to Taemin. It's a good arrangement, because Taemin loves to share a bed. It feels less engulfing with Jonghyun there.

“Then sleep,” Taemin whispers, ignoring the best he can the way Jonghyun's lips are pressed against the crook of his neck. Jonghyun sighs, entangling his arms around Taemin's waist and scrunching his hand up in the flannel of his sleep shirt.

“Thanks, I really need it.”

Taemin doesn't mind. He doesn't sleep, though.

His hyung is shorter than him and he loves it, sometimes. Hugs are cozier and they fit just right. He takes up just the right amount of space in the car that they can fall asleep on each other and it’s the most perfect thing, in Taemin’s mind.

But then, when Jonghyun's hand is on his thigh, idling in the most frustrating and embarrassing way for Taemin, he suddenly feels bigger than life.

“Again, now this time breathe in fully and then let it out slowly,” Jonghyun instructs. “Focus on this and you’ll have longer periods of time where you can sing on one breath.”

Taemin's breath wavers, that nervous way that often found its way into his speaking when he was younger.

Jonghyun is behind him, hands encasing his stomach in a way that Taemin couldn't stand. He pressed harder, fingers just below his sternum. “Breathe in, I can tell you're not quite getting all the depth that you need to hold these notes. You need to work on this, especially.”

Taemin tries again, but he knows he's not as good as he should be at this point in their career. He's better, but he's nowhere near where he feels he should be. After all, he's been told this before.

It seems like a waste of time – of the energy Jonghyun gives him however many times a week.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jonghyun's tone is professional, but a note of deep concern follows through his question.

“Yes?”

“Are you sure, you're shaking?”

Taemin gets his body under control immediately – show business has taught him something useful.

“Of course, hyung. I'm just really tired, schedules are long.”

Jonghyun's hands – his entire presence, just behind him and just out of reach – departs and now they're sitting again, each on their own bed. Taemin's legs cross and he teeters just on the edge of his mattress, a perfect balance of what he hopes is composure and ease.

They practice in their room only when the others are out and Jonghyun insisted it was only because it was more comfortable, though he knows it was because no one would hear Taemin. It was for Taemin's comfort as much as it was for the ears of anyone who happened to be near by.

Jonghyun stares at him, an undertone of… something Taemin can't place. Something, painting his features solemn and more contemplative than Taemin would feel comfortable being at the receiving end of.

“… ah, Jjong? Hyung?”

He's staring and Taemin can feel his neck warm. It spreads, slowly, a fire fanned on by the way Jonghyun's expression turns soft and intense and…

He smirks, rolling his eyes. “You're staring at me. You in love?”

“Um, you're staring at me first , hyung,” and their tone is thinly humorous – thinly anything but that smoldering feeling that Taemin wonders if Jonghyun can feel too. Something about the word love doesn't sound like a question – but then again, Taemin knows he's projecting, knows what wishful thinking is and that he's done enough of it for a lifetime.

Jonghyun rolls his eyes again, and he gets up to lay on Taemin's bed. “Lay with me and talk about video games, I'm bored and I really can't imagine doing anything else.”

“No more lessons? Am I still that bad that you'd give up?”

Jonghyun snorts, moving. “You were never bad. Lacking confidence, yes, but not bad.”

They retire that conversation silently, mutually.

Taemin puts some space between them and they're off again, that steady stream of conversation flowing from them so easily that it might feel natural to Taemin to stay at this distance.

Then Jonghyun grabs his hands and Taemin wishes he could say something. His throat closes up, too dry, and suddenly, Jonghyun is threading their fingers together in the silence.

It‘s a crush and it's made Taemin wonder, just what does it mean? Is he gay if he only likes one man?

That one man is on stage right now and he's supposed to be going out there, do what they practiced. Just like they practiced. For the fans.

His heart thumped in his chest and the nerves never wore off, even after the adrenaline of getting his hair pulled did.

Taemin is sure that he's not… like that . Not gay. He can't actually convince himself of that any more, and Jonghyun has fallen asleep next to him in their hotel.

“Hyung?”

He's passed out, spent, leg looped over Taemin's in a softly intimate way that makes a heat wave overcome him, from the hips up.

Maybe he's like that . He can't imagine life without his hyung, what else could it be but love?

Jinki asks if he's okay. He's dancing too much this week, even by Taemin standards. Jonghyun is reading a book in the corner of their company van, but his eyes snake up every so often to look at the two sitting across from him.

Taemin wonders, did he ask Jinki to ask?

“Why wouldn't I be? I'm just practicing. The new choreography is… a lot more. A lot harder.”

No one buys it – the kid dances in his sleep, and Jinki's eyes uncertainly peer through him.

“Okay. Just, lay off for a day soon so you can recover. We can't have you out because you danced yourself into the ICU.”

Taemin nods and Jonghyun stares at the same place on the page for the rest of the ride.

Jonghyun is waiting for him, the kitchen table littered with pages of his handwriting . Jonghyun looks up to the dorm door and then to the clock and Taemin knows he probably should have come home earlier. Or later. Just not at the time he did.

“Where were you?”

“At the studio?”

“I asked manager, he said you weren't there. Said you said you were going to recover at home before we start shooting.”

“Oh...”

Taemin was dressed as muted and inconspicuously as possible and Jonghyun visibly became aware of that. He was wearing his discreet citizen clothes that no one would look twice at, and Jonghyun was staring like he was undressing him, undressing his story.

Taemin was about to say something when he heard it. The shaking of the walls, the way they fell into a rhythm that Taemin had been doing his best to avoiding hearing all together.

Minho and Kibum were doing that thing.

Jonghyun sighed, dropping his head into his hands and chuckling humorlessly. “Ah, god, those two. I swear, I don't have insomnia, they're just always keeping me up.”

Taemin doesn't really know how to respond to that – what is he supposed to say? How is he supposed to say it? Aren't they supposed to ignore it when it's this loud?

Taemin spent years keeping himself away from this part of dorm life – pretending to be asleep at night, or on nights like this, coming home so late that he couldn't possibly expect anyone to be awake when he returned. It's a craft he‘s honed over the past five years, and, honestly, it was bound to come up. He was lucky he got away with it this long, in fact.

It's three AM.

Jonghyun's looking at him. He's been looking at him lately – intensely, like he wanted to wear him thin.

“I was just, out, trying to relax. Took a walk.”

Taemin takes off his cap and sets it on the counter. He takes cereal out from the taller cabinet and he's pouring himself a bowl when,

“It's been every night this week.”

There's no reason for him to feel as taut as he does in that split second. He hums, whether in approval or disagreement is anyone's guess.

“It's annoying, isn't it?”

“What is, hyung?” His bowl is too full.

Jonghyun huffs a little, drumming his fingernails against the laminate of the kitchen table. “You know. Kibum and Minho. Jinki's pissed off about how loud they've been getting lately.”

“Oh, ah, yeah. Yeah.”

“Hmm, aren't you sort of, I don't know, upset to have them ruining your sleep?”

“Oh, well, I guess I've been practicing and preparing a lot. I've been getting in later than… than they're... They're getting loud.”

“I noticed.”

A shiver runs up Taemin's back and it occurs to him, just how easy it could be to see through him. He tries to change the subject, and it's flimsy at best when, “Where's Jinki?”

“Oh, he's at his girlfriend's. Returning her shirts or shoes or something. I think it was just an excuse to be with her before promotions, you know?”

He grabs his bowl and turns back to Jonghyun, whose eyes are trained on him like a wild dog honing in on a small animal. (Or, at least, that's how it feels; Taemin's shrunk to the size of a rodent and he wanted nothing more than to scurry away and live in a dark hole.)

Taemin smiles. “Yeah, I guess so. We won't have a lot of time for personal things for a while.”

“Well, yes, I think so. Except… you.”

Taemin thinks that he might look like a deflated balloon, popped in an instant and his smile is faltering. His eyes are glinting, weakened like rocks broken with a pickaxe. “Hyung?”

Jonghyun is standing up, the embodiment of determination that Taemin knows so well. All of his years of good luck were crashing down on him right at the moment his hyung is standing in front of him.

Jonghyun's locked eyes with Taemin, grabbing the bowl that he had secured between his hands and setting it out of sight.

“I think your entire life is in the studio or practice room or on stage, isn't it?”

“I mean I… I guess. I'm just – ”

“I don't think I've seen you take someone home, actually.”

How does this come out of nowhere?

“Or, really, go to someone's home, like Jinki – ”

“Hyung, really, please...”

Jonghyun puts hands on either side of Taemin, braced against the counter top and Taemin doesn't know where to put his own hands.

Taemin has faced the world, bare chested and exposed like nerves caught in the wake of a flame. He's grown up in the entertainment industry. He's stood his ground on countless landslides and all it takes is eye contact with one person to shake him entirely.

Jonghyun is looking up at him, holding him in his gaze like a snake charming the charmer and Taemin can't breathe can't think can't feel anything – except–

Except… “I noticed a lot of things, Min-ah, lots of thing that I haven't talked about.”

The rules are crumbling, now, and Jonghyun's leaning into Taemin's ear. Taemin shivers, shockwaves ending in his hands that don't know how to stop.

Jonghyun looks at them and his right hand is laying on top of Taemin's, sandwiched on the counter. “It's been five years since debut, but I've known you longer than that. In all the years, you've never… never brought someone home. Never talked about crushes or girls you liked – never have I seen your eyes gloss over like Jinki does with Jessica.”

Taemin's mouth is a desert, a landscape that can't be crossed. Jonghyun is good – always has been – at reading Taemin's silent language, the one spoken in expressive eyes and harsh breath and sweaty palms. It makes sense, how he'd know this whole time, how he'd see what was right in front of him.

Still.

“Hyung, you know… I'm busy… and i'm only now able to officially date and– ”

“Did rules ever matter to you? They didn't when you sneaked in cigarettes for everyone, when you went behind manager's back and sneaked out to get food – to hide our porn, to cheat on diets, to–”

“ I get it , let it go.”

Jonghyun pulls away from Taemin. The glint of a smile on his lips softens, transforms into the sort of intimacy Taemin wishes he knew. “I have a question, Min.”

It can't be anything good, but… “What is it?”

Jonghyun had dark circles – years of lost sleep – and he was drilling for oil, unashamed, when his eyes pierced Taemin's. “What are Kibum and Minho doing?”

The Gods conspired, and a thump against the wall followed by a sharp moan flowed down the stairs.

“Ah, hyung, really...”

The banging – the rhythmic pounding – suddenly sped and–

“No, really, Taemin, what are they doing?”

This is stupid. “You know what... what they're doing, hyung.”

“Can't you just say it?”

Jonghyun is in his space now – in the fragile area around Taemin where he can feel his body heat, his breath, and if he could listen of the sound of his own, he'd hear his heartbeat.

Maybe it would have beat fast– the way Taemin's was when his eyes were on their feet, on the checkered laminate floor, pretending that he wasn’t being confronted in his very own kitchen.

“Really I have to go – ”

“Taemin, are you gay?”

Jonghyun would be the first one to ask him. He'd be the only one to ask him. He breaks a lot of rules, but Taemin never expected him to break the rule .

Taemin's shaking, the way Jonghyun's searching for his eyes. The way he's wanting an answer and Taemin thinks it's okay, now, okay to talk.

He nods, drawing in a breath as shaky as road signs in a hurricane.

Jonghyun hums, then pulls him into a hug that is a lot more accepting than Taemin expected.

Everyone is sitting around the table – there's a feast and they're starving and this is the first true meal they've had in months.

Minho and Kibum are beside each other and no one says a word about how their eyes lock, but everyone sees it and it's beautiful, Taemin thinks, to see love as unashamed as theirs.

Taemin smiles directly at the two, trying to be polite instead of laugh at how dumb they can be – how dumb they are and how the fact that the two of them together makes them twice as dumb.

“Do you really think you're gonna get the first solo? Psh, It'll be me for sure,” Kibum said, a mouthful of rice forcing his words to contort to its shape.

Minho laughs. “Rap is hot in the market this year and the company would love a piece of this.”

Jonghyun is laughing with all of them, and he grabs Taemin's hand under the table. “As if. I'm sure it'll be Taemin, for sure.”

“Hyung, please,” Taemin giggles – it sounds too airy, too heated, but it's genuine and he loves the way Jonghyun smiles at hm and squeezes his hand.

“Oh but I'm telling the truth, it has to be you – our precious maknae. Doesn't everyone agree?”

Approving nods and words through stuffed mouths rebound across the table, circling back around to Taemin as he ducks his head in modesty.

He's still smiling, and it feels unlike any time he's ever sat around his brothers, his members, and felt at peace. “Hyung, you're too confident in me.”

“Ah, but you need to learn to brag a little.”

“You need to learn modesty.”

“Amen,” Jinki added, right before sticking another piece of pork.

Taemin never brought up that conversation with Jonghyun – the one in the kitchen that turned into an embarrassing sob-fest in less than a minute. It remained, as it always did, a subtext of every conversation, every part of their lives, that they treaded over it as if it weren't always there.

Until, now. It's a hotel room, one in Tokyo they'd been in before, and Taemin's on his own bed tracing patterns in the ceiling with his eyes when he asks how Jonghyun knew he was gay.

“It's the way you look at me, Min, that really gets to me.”

And Taemin has no idea how it went from one secret, to another, with just one breath. From Jonghyun knowing about him being who he is to loving who he does.

Taemin chokes on air and he's clamming up, a hot seconds difference between last minute's ceiling doodles and being faced with… with–

“I think I saw you watching me off stage and I don't think anyone really looks at me like that. It wasn't like you wanted to tear my clothes off, it's like you were taken away.”

Taemin turns his head, and Jonghyun is staring at his crossed legs, hands fidgeting with the remote that was more a prop than anything. It made him look busy, and Taemin's heart sped up.

“I...”

Normally, Taemin would be apologizing, trying to fix the wrongness of himself and how dare he fall in love with a friend. How dare he betray that trust that friends are supposed to have.

Taemin draws a blank, heart still feverish in the way it was trying to vibrate out of existence – he gets up and sits next to Jonghyun, an instinct that caught himself off guard. He's made of nerves when his hand comes to lay on Jonghyun's shoulder, but he takes pride in his steadiness.

Jonghyun looks at him – Taemin's never been so torn apart than with that look and his hand retreats. “I don't think anyone's stared at me and looked like they were in love.”

Taemin wants to shrink into himself but, “There are literally thousands of girls who stare at you and want to marry you, hyung.”

“But do they know me?”

Taemin's face is overheating and he looks down to the same remote in Jonghyun's hand. “No.”

“Do they spend time with me playing video games and making food late at night and do they fall asleep on my shoulder when we're driving to the airport?”

Taemin shakes his head, and Jonghyun laughs. “See, then they don't really love me.”

But I do .

Jonghyun tilted Taemin's head up, faced him, and kissed him – it was one movement, so smooth that Taemin didn't realize it was happening until about three seconds in.

He's kissing back, slowly – really really poorly because in the last year, he's probably only kissed someone three times, all of which had been drunk encounters with people he realized weren't Jonghyun.

Jonghyun snorts, still kissing him but suddenly urgently trying not to laugh.

Taemin's almost offended till Jonghyun says, “Hey, feel how cold my hands are,” and sneaks his hand underneath Taemin's thick sweater.

It might have been an excuse to get close to Taemin, but Taemin doesn't care because his world rearranged itself in front of him and– damn–

“Hyung!” He recoiled, shocked at just how cold Jonghyun's hands were.

The tension is still there but they're smiling like idiots. “See?” Jonghyun said over a lopsided smile, eyes bold and shy at the same time. He's collected Taemin's hands in his and they're sitting closely, and Taemin wants to lean in but doesn't know if he should. If he could.

Jonghyun is looking at his lips – so obviously, so distractingly that Taemin doesn't register what is being said.

“I'd really like to kiss you again,” is what he hears when Jonghyun repeats himself, and his ears warm and his stomach flutters and he still nods yes . There's subtext, it sounds like I love you, I can't trust myself to love you, what if this is a dream , and he's crying before he realizes he's doing it.

“Ah, god, Tae,” Jonghyun gasped, breathless. His fingers swipe across Taemin's tear-slicked cheeks and surges forward, like he's drawn so entirely to Taemin that he can't help but try to bridge the imaginary distance between them.

Taemin's breath is always sucked up into Jonghyun, and when he breathes back in it's all Jonghyun; his scent surrounding him, his hands endlessly unsatisfied and constantly finding their ways back onto his bare skin.

Jonghyun is a force, a train, something so unstoppable and utterly sweeping that Taemin catches his enthusiasm and shifts a little.

“ Mmm, ah , Tae,” Jonghyun says in a moment of separation. He's guiding, nails grazing the exposed skin at Taemin's back, a subtle force that directs them onto their sides.

The kissing is infinite – it's how Taemin imagines passion to feel if it were distilled into only a few moments, a few minutes, of breathlessness and so much urgency that he might have thought the world was ending.

The kissing is not infinite, and neither is the heat in the lowest parts of his stomach. Jonghyun's legs are between his, wrapped around each other, a twining of limbs that felt as natural as it was new. The context, the swollen lips and puffy eyes, was new, while memories of falling asleep in a similar way were as old as memory itself.

There were moments where Taemin couldn't bring himself to truly look at Jonghyun, even with him laying right beside him and looking at him, all teary eyed and pink and at a loss for footing.

“Your eyes.”

“What about them?”

Jonghyun's thumb was on Taemin's hip, the only exposed part of him, rubbing circles. “They're pretty.”

“They're swollen and gross.”

“If you haven't noticed, your lips are too – but they're still beautiful.”

The last stray tears flitted down Taemin's face, the necessary last few hangers on that he needed to rid himself of. The words stung – bitter and foreign and offset, like he was perched delicately on fantasy that sudden words would knock him back to a reality he didn’t want to be in.

“Hey, talk to me,” Jonghyun nudged.

“Do… are you… like me?”

“Mmmhmm.”

Taemin smiled. “Do you like me?”

A wider smile grazed Jonghyun’s face, and he rolled his eyes. “Yep. A lot.”

Taemin didn’t want to cry anymore but he did and this time -- it felt different. Happier, like he could breathe again (or for the first time, maybe).

Still cloudy, still filled with haze and confusion, he had it in him to cry and smile. “I think… I think I can work with that.”

Jonghyun snorted, brushing away tears and letting his fingers linger on Taemin’s skin. “Dummy, you’re gonna have to work with it. I really want this to work and I want to be with you and I want you .”

Jonghyun, his hands on Taemin’s thighs, is bigger than life again -- a monument to all the things Taemin couldn’t do. That Jonghyun -- the untouchable, the beautiful, the one he daydreamed about -- was shattering now, and Taemin felt like it was okay.

It was okay to take his hand, hold it there on his jeans over his thighs and let himself appreciate it. Just a bit.

“I just, don’t -- I don’t know how.” Taemin feels stupid when he says it. He feels like he should know.

“Neither do I. I don’t think anyone does.”

“Well not everyone but normal people do and --“

“Normal? What, you mean straight?”

Taemin was scrambling for footing -- but he had none. That’s exactly what he meant - normal people, the ones who can have kids and hold hands and not feel like their skin was crawling with eyes that hated seeing them. Taemin swallowed and had nowhere to go, just retreat to his corner and feel like a shadow against the sun.

Jonghyun had a torn look on his face, in his searching eyes. He didn’t look upset,Taemin realized. It took a second before he recognized that it wasn’t pity, that it was sadness.

Suddenly, their hands shifted and Jonghyun rolled on top of him, thigh splitting Taemin’s legs open. Jonghyun didn’t meet resistance, not an ounce of stop , and his hands perched him on top of Taemin.

Jonghyun kissed his forehead, his breath cascading over Taemin -- his scent, the toothpaste and the floral and the way he always had some candle scent stuck on him, surrounded and engulfed and Taemin didn’t know what to do with it.

“You know, those people won’t ever get to experience this and that’s sad. They won’t have half of what we can “ -- and he kissed the spot between Taemin’s eyes -- “They won’t know what this is like” -- and he kissed his nose -- “They won’t get it and they’ll miss out on you and me and honestly who gives a fuck about them? I only give a damn about you.”

Jonghyun hovered, lingering like a question, before finally kissing Taemin.

It felt like a declaration -- it felt like love masked in poetry and Taemin nodded when he came eye to eye with Jonghyun. He couldn’t shake the feeling, stop thinking, that this kiss was wrong -- or not entirely right.

But then it deepened -- fuck, is Jonghyun a good kisser -- and he couldn’t think anymore, not about his family or his guilt or anything inbetween.

“Ah, Jjong... “ Taemin whispered, his breath hot and steamy, looking at Jonghyun with hooded eyes.

Jonghyun chuckled -- Taemin felt it resonate against him, their chests so close together -- and went in for a quicker kiss. “It’s like that -- you look at me like that. That’s how I knew.”

Taemin laughed into his mouth and rolled with all that followed.

#Jongtae #Shinee fic #My fic #length: 6.5k #kpop #shawol #oneshot

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bronanlynch · 3 years

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recent media consumption summary time

could’ve sworn the last one was only two weeks ago but apparently it was three. sorry for becoming unmoored from the passage of linear time

listening: you know when you use a song lyric as a fic title and then you get that song stuck in your head for the next week? anyway Whirlpool by Sea Wolf sure is a song that I enjoy and also have had stuck in my head for a week. I feel like I should have smarted musical things to say here but I like Sea Wolf, they’re nice to listen to, they’re sad man with guitar music without being identical to every other sad man with guitar band

reading: finished my reread of Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo, and my main thought this time around is that I love Kaz with my whole entire heart. also love a good multi-layered heist scheme. also also Wylan/Jesper is cute but I do think they don’t get nearly as much relationship development as the two m/f couples and like, I really like these books but that is very much a trend especially in sff YA these days

also finished Lord Seventh (Qi Ye) by Priest and. god I love the characters so much. a friend group can just be a bunch of horrible gay people pining for each other and betraying each other in order to save each other’s lives. extremely tasty. also,

(I would say that missed opportunity is my one complaint but like. my actual main complaint is that as much as I love the characters, I think that if the racism in your text is blatant enough that I, a white american with very little knowledge of the specific racial coding happening can pick up on it, then it’s uh. probably pretty blatant and that’s Not Great)

also did some pride month impulse purchases at my local indie bookstore, including Molly Knox Ostertag’s The Girl from the Sea, a lesbian selkie graphic novel, which did so many things to my heart. first of all the art is so pretty

second of all, I too have been lonely and starting to realize that I’m gay while living in a beach town with a summer tourism economy, drifting apart from a friend group that I didn’t feel like I was part of and wishing I was literally anywhere else even though I loved the ocean. third of all, gay selkies

also read The Witch King by H.E. Edgmon which I enjoyed even though I am definitely not the target audience for first person present tense novels, even if those novels are portal fantasies about fae power struggles and arranged marriages. I really enjoyed the three main characters and their relationships, and the worldbuilding was fun, though the twist at the end (and lots of parts of the ending tbh) felt a little bit abrupt to me. also, and this is a personal thing, but someday I would love to read a fantasy novel with a transmasc character that actually feels like it reflects my experiences. I guess that’s part of the problem with looking for this in YA, but that’s where I tend to see transmasc protagonists so here I am. anyway, valid for anyone but especially trans teens to want to read a narrative about someone being loud and open about their identity but that’s not my experience. which I think is why I tend to construct my own trans narratives around characters who like, aren’t canonically trans but have themes about lying and hiding and being defensive about their image because *that’s* a trans experience I actually relate to.

I’ve started In Deeper Waters by F.T. Lukens, which is not a book I intended to buy but 1) look at the cover

2) I am weak for gay people on the sea. it’s fun so far, I’m not expecting any sort of in-depth anything about royal power but it’s cute and light and I’m having a good time. my main complaint is again a personal thing, which is not actually a complaint about the book itself and more about twitter discourse about how there should never be homophobia in sff that takes place in different worlds and how we’ve had enough of that so everything should take place in a world where it’s fine and normal to be queer. and again, that’s fine! I do enjoy books like that! I am currently enjoying a book like that! but again, I have a harder time relating to characters whose queerness isn’t mediated by fear the way mine is (this book sidesteps that by making the main character a very anxious person, which helps increase the relatability, but also. there’s this whole thing about how people distrust him and there are rumors about his ~perversion and yeah it’s about his secret hidden magic but. felt very weird to have that set-up and then not have homophobia play any part in the way other people talk about him, y’know? like please, stigmatized magic as a parallel for stigmatized sexuality is Right There)

watching: finished Nirvana in Fire and am having lots of normal and moderate emotions about it. belongs in my mental categories of “media I want to consume over and over again and take it apart and figure out how to write like that” and also “things I want to rewatch when I have enough energy to appreciate it” because I do think if I weren’t so tired these days I could’ve tried to have predictions instead of waiting for the characters to explain their plans to me, as much as I do love it when attractive people smirk at the screen and monologue about their schemes

also watched most of Castlevania season 4 (I have 3 episodes left) and it’s. well. it’s not Good but it’s a lot better than season 3. however, I only care about a few of the plotlines and everything else is kinda boring. I like Alucard’s plotline and I like Greta and I liked the two scenes where Hector and Isaac interacted and I liked the vampire lesbians deciding that being gay was more important to them than doing war crimes. cannot be bothered to care about anything else though, especially St. Germain. more importantly, Alucard’s new look fucks. love the whole cape + tits out thing.

finally got around to watching the end of the first season of Elementary and once again, I enjoy it when people explain complicated plans to me. love a good mystery. also, predictably, I’m in love with Moriarty. her first two dates with Sherlock are about art forgery and Roman artifacts in the London sewers, how was I supposed to *not* fall in love with her. also every time she interacts with Joan after the reveal has extremely homoerotic energy. ladies is it gay to become psychosexually obsessed with a woman who outplotted you

also, very importantly, my roommate realized I’d never seen Tsubasa OVAs, and they sure are an experience. I read the entire manga in like two days in a fugue state last winter and remember very little of the plot of the second half of the story, so the second OVA which is like. a random section of the late plot was kind of a lot to try to process at once, though I do appreciate one of the main ships doing a Gift of the Magi thing except instead of selling treasured possessions to get each other gifts they’re sacrificing parts of themselves. however the first one is my favorite arc, because it should not surprise anyone that the post-apocalyptic vampire arc is my favorite. also, I don’t need to remember the actual plot to remember and appreciate how much of an Eliot-core character Fai is. look at him. prettyboy ice wizard pretending to be flirty and performatively useless to hide his trauma. also he’s a vampire. he sets off the cosplay and gender envy parts of my brain so much

playing: nothing new since last time, just more Tidepools and Beam Saber. maybe someday I will play a video game again

making: got to cook for just the two of us last week instead of having to find something that everyone would eat, so Zan and I finally got to make chicken marsala from this recipe and it was extremely good. next time we’re gonna double the mushrooms though I think, the recipe didn’t make quite enough compared to the amount of chicken

someday I will make non-food things again but unfortunately, when most of your energy has to go to either cooking and cleaning for other people or trying to get other people to cook and clean,

writing: posted three new fics: the Persona selkie AU, the Nirvana in Fire miserable sapphic makeout fic, and a slice-of-life Persona fic for an exchange, and worked on a couple of other things that are still secret for zine reasons

#dreaming.txt #tuesday no problem extended universe #long post /

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nanalikessurveys · 4 years

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Are you one of those lucky people to own a walk-in closet? No, i’m so unfortunate haha Is there a random object you own that has a huge personal significance? Not really lol Do you use Google? Yes, everyday Would you like to go swimming right now? No, not right now Can you play electric guitar? I can’t

Do you have an HDTV? I’m not sure lol, it’s just a TV to me When was the last time you drank something through a straw? I have no idea, i usually don’t use a straw Have you ever tried to teach yourself a different language? Not really How long was your last phone call? About 2 mins which is long for me haha

Do you need to repaint your nails? I don’t have them painted and i don’t feel like doing it now Has there ever been a horoscope that came true for you? I don’t read horoscopes Are you a fan of industrial metal? No, i don’t like metal music Are you one of those people who chew two pieces of gum, not one? Yeah sometimes

Do you have a wall calendar? I don’t

Have you ever taken the pictures from a calendar and used them as posters? Nope Can you handle the cold? Better than the heat for sure, i love cold weather Have you ever been to Canada? No Do you believe in superstitions? Not really When was the last time you took a taxi somewhere? When i went to the vet with my cat, i don’t own a car i don’t feel comfortable going to the bus with my cat lol Would you ever join the army, airforce or navy? I wouldn’t How old is the person you last kissed? 25 Is there a friend that you can always rely on to get you out of a jam? I hope so :( What was the most embarassing thing you’ve had to buy? I still get a bit embarrassed buying pads. and also underwear when there’s a guy cashier LOL i’m so stupid Have you ever tried to balance the light switch between off and on? Haha yep Do you believe in ghosts / supernatural occurences? No, i never had any experience with them luckily Have you ever mistaken a person’s gender? I’m sure but they never knew about it What was the most expensive thing you’ve broken? My phone Has anyone texted you yet today? Yes Did you stay calm during the whole swine flu scare? I think i did, but i remember getting the shots in school and being scared af Is there a light on in the room you’re currently in? Yes Are your feet touching the floor? My left foot is Have you ever been in a car accident? No, luckily Do you usually make back-up plans? Yep Can you focus well in high-stress situations? NO, definitely no Without the aid of mascara, do you have long eyelashes? They’re pretty long and i love them, if they were darker i would never wear mascara again Is there a kind of music you listen to that helps you release your anger? I don’t listen to music when i’m angry Are you one of those people who keep their feelings bottled up? Yeah Is one of your friends extremely odd but you love them regardless? She’s weird in the nicest way possible Is there anyone you dread going into public with? No Are you a victim of writing run-on sentences? I have no idea what that means Graffiti: an art or an act of vandalism? There’s amazing ones and then the stupid ones lol. like there’s factor area near my neighborhood with AMAZING looking graffitis on the walls, they looks so nice Do you buy things online? Sometimes, i did order bunch of underwear couple days ago lol Are you easily frightened? I’m afraid of lot of things but i don’t get jumpy? like jumpscares are lame hahah Do you have a favorite model? Gigi and Bella Hadid are gorgeous. Also Gaspard Ulliel is the definition of perfect tbh Have you ever watched Titanic? Yep What’s your current facebook display picture of? I’m not on facebook, seriously every survey assumes i am lol How about your IM display picture? It’s of me Is there anyone whose hair you envy? My therapist’s lmao, she has long, blonde and silky hair Would you act in a movie if it offered a role? No, i was like 7 years old when i attended this movie camp where we made bunch of short movies and then we watched them in the end of the camp and I CRINGED SO FUCKING HARD AT MYSELF LMAO like i was so bad and i haven’t gotten any better since then Does speaking in front of people make you nervous? YES, school presentations are the worst. literally everytime in grade school i had one there was this one motherfucker who just had to yell something about me having to speak up Can you read in a moving vehicle or does it make you sick? I don’t read in vehicles because of that reason Have you ever dated someone who was extremely shy? Not really, i wouldn’t have called him shy Or have you dated someone who took things too fast? Mmm yes Does the idea of driving 220 mph sound exciting to you? Nope Everyone has a weakness, what’s yours? Good dancers, lol Do you or anyone you know have an account on Deviantart? I don’t and i don’t think anyone i know has one Thoughts on the Dunkin Donut commercial that says “America runs on Dunkin’”? I don’t know that commercial Do you bother buying movies on DVD anymore or do you just download them? I buy movies on DVD still, yes Do you listen to Daughtry? No Do you get your eyebrows waxed? No, i pluck them

How do you take your coffee? With milk If you have a dog, what breed is it? I don’t Have you found someone who makes you unconditionally happy? I guess so Do you have a friend who always seems to be dying their hair? She has dyed her hair in the past couple times, but now she just has her natural color Would you swap names with a friend? Sure, but i’m happy with mine Do you plan on going to university? I don’t think so Guys who wear muscle shirts, yes or no? I had to google this and i got two different kinds of results, so i have no idea which muscle shirt are you talking about. anyway you can wear whatever you want pretty much Are you a fan of Carrie Underwood? I know about her but not any of her songs, so no Do you make playlists on iTunes? I don’t use iTunes Have you ever forgotten someone’s birthday? My friend’s birthday this year and i felt SO FUCKING BAD Are you scared of being left behind? Yes Do you remember your last dream? No. i never do Do you know someone who is an obsessed Star Wars fan? No one obsessed

Is politics something you don’t care about? I don’t care about it that much, no What’s a movie/tvshow/book/series that is way overrated? I can’t think of any Do you think Barbie presents an unhealthy image to young girls? It’s not a realistic looking doll but does it really have to, it’s just a toy Is there a pet that you desperately want? Not anymore, i have two lovely cats Would you ever get your bellybutton pierced? I already did Are you musically talented? No Have you ever shot a gun? No Do you have a friend that always changes their mind last second? No Are you not afraid to voice your opinion? Yep, that’s me Are you one of those people who are always pushing their limits? Not really lol Is there a word that you will always find humorous? A lot of finnish words

Do you frown upon immature people? Idk Have you ever slipped on ice and hurt yourself? I have slipped many times but never hurt myself badly Do you try to have an intimidating impression? I guess, try is the key word tho Living in the big city or chilling in the country? City No one seems to obey the legal drinking age, do they? Haha no Do you like your country’s flag? Yeah i like the color combination. other than that it’s kinda meh Have you ever made a totally amazing snow fort? Not an amazing one Do you use Bounty Paper Towels? I don’t know them, are they like coconut scented lmao Are you the one usually behind the camera or the one in the picture? Behind If you get married, will you have a traditional wedding? Sure Do you feel you’re slowly losing one of your friends? Tbh it kinda feels like that now If you draw, what’s one thing you always have trouble with? Just everything Is there someone you know moving away any time soon? Probably my sister, but she’s not so sure yet Allergic to anything? Penicillin How many cars have you owned? Zero What are you going to do after this? Going to brush my teeth and wash my face and go to bed

#survey #surveys

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theory-in-a-story-blog · 7 years

Text

Reading through the lenses of Karen Horney

Karen Horney was the first women to present a paper on psychology at an international conference. She’s one of the most influential figures in the development of feminine psychology. There’s no personality textbook that does not talk about Karen Horney. So what shaped her personality? To answer that you need to have a brief context of her early life.

Karen Horney was born as Karen Danielson; she was the second child of her father’s second marriage. The first child was her older brother; she has observed that her father was always supportive of her brother’s endeavours more than her just because she was a girl. She saw this as an obstacle and decided to overcome it by being smart, as a compensation for her looks and gender. She’s one of the first women to enter a medical school in Germany. It is here, she learned about Psychoanalysis the buzz term of that time. She was guided and trained by Karl Abraham. She soon began to question Freud’s idea of Psychoanalysis. Certain concepts showed how andocentric the entire theory was. For example the concept of Penis envy; she believed that penis envy does not literally translate to envying the penis rather it is the envy that stems out of the importance the society and various cultures have associated with it. She coined the term womb envy which explains a man’s need to succeed in everything and create a legacy for themselves stems from their inability to bear and conceive a child.

The affects of growing anti-Semitism and her differences with Freud persuaded her to move to U.S.A, where she expanded the horizons of feminine psychology and psychoanalysis. She has contributed extensively to the research in the respective fields. Her efforts were recognised by her colleagues and they have opened a clinic in her name to promote her efforts in the advancements of feminine psychology and a broader understanding of psychoanalytic approach.

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Graduation day was tomorrow, three women sat in sparsely decorated room with cups of tea in their hands. Amara, Nira and Noor were reminiscing over the time spent in college, over the last two years when they had been completing their master’s degree.

These three women made a very peculiar trio. They were extremely different from each other and it was very unlikely that you would find such a group anywhere else. They were thought to be lucky to have been assigned the same room in the girls hostel of their college and had surprisingly taken a liking towards each other.

Noor was the most timid of them all; always feeling like she had to go an extra mile to keep her friends. She often felt homesick, but thanked her stars for finding friends like Nira and Amara, who made her, feel secure in the new city. She would time and again give up her space for Nira’s things as she had too much stuff. She felt slightly more insecure about Amara, but she kept those feelings to herself. Noor felt that Sociology had been a great choice for a master’s degree as she could get to help people. As a child she had been very attached to her mother and till date would do anything to make her mother happy.

Noor shows a Compliant personality. She strives for other’s affection and would do anything that may help her in achieving it, even if it caused her discomfort. She often tries to behave the way others want her to as evidenced by her relationship with Nira and her mother. She feels the need for attention to feel loved and secure in her own environment. She shows movement towards people and displays to neurotic needs- Affection and Approval, a dominant partner.

Whereas Noor was the dependent one, Nira was fiercely self-regulating. She had finished her master’s in Business Management and could not wait to start working and putting in her knowledge to use in the working world. She was convinced that she would climb the corporate ladder rapidly. While growing up she was an only child and one could say that she was used to getting her way. But Nira was not only known for her loud personality, but for her sharp mind and efficient working skills. She had won at several fests throughout college and was the perfect student by her professors. Once she found something she was good at, she did not stop until she achieved all there was to achieve in that field. She was extremely competitive and confident about her abilities.

Nira moves against people in order to alleviate basic anxiety. She has an Aggressive personality. She is driven to suppress others in order to come out on top. She often took on leadership roles for the feel f power in her hands. She got a thrill out of being praised and admired for her achievements and abilities.

Amara was the combination of her roommates. She was quiet yet an independent person. At the start of the year, she used to feel extremely annoyed by her loud and talkative roommates but overtime learnt to live with them as she went and purchased noise cancelling earphones to listen to her music. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her roommates, she was thankful for them, but she felt that they did not understand the concept of ‘personal space’. She had done her masters in English Literature and felt that her work had quality and charm that the rest of her course mates failed to imbibe in their style of writing.

Amara exhibits a Detached personality. She avoids forming intimate relationships, and enjoys her independence. She relied heavily on herself and felt that her achievements should be recognised and accepted as they were. She shows a movement away from people, and sees herself as a self-sufficient perfectionist and she refused to look beyond her comfort zone.

As their degree had come to an end, the inevitable topic of their future surfaced in their conversation. ‘What were we going to do now?’

“I really want to work and get to the top of my game and show the world what im really capable of”, Nira began.

“But what about marriage?” Noor questioned her.

“Huh, who needs men?” commented Amara.

Nira didn’t completely agree with Amara, she and her boyfriend had recently spoken about marriage and they would make a great functioning couple. “For me, personally, it’s on the table but definitely after a few years, I must get on my own two feet first”.

“Yeah even I would like to do that but my parents have already found a nice guy for me and when I spoke with him, he was extremely supportive of my working” Noor chimed in.

“Well girls, you have a fun time; I’ve nearly finished my book and I sure as hell don’t need a man to keep me happy in my life. I’m never going to get married, imagine sharing a bed every night, goodness! I need my space.” Amara really let them know what she felt.

Horney would analyse this scene with a lot of interest. Being an early feminist, she dismissed the orthodox psychoanalytical theories that supported men’s dominance over women. Even amongst these three women, we see a drive to establish and not be trapped in the patriarchal system. Some women choose motherhood and some, a career. But many manage to balance both simultaneously and successfully.

An awkward silence followed Amara’s comment. Uncharacteristically Amara spoke up, “Dude those boys in my class are so immature anyway. Imagine, even in 2017, I heard one of them whisper to the other about how the girls in class were too emotional to ever be able to write objectively.”

“Wow, you’ve got some misogynistic pigs in your class! They sound like they are jealous.” Nira said in shock.

Horney countered Freud’s concept of penis envy, where he said that women were jealous of men which caused to be inferior to men. She turned the tables on Freud. While agreeing that women did feel inferior to men, she classified that it was because of the cultural environment and the society they were raised in, where men were given more importance. There was no biological reasoning behind such feelings. To strengthen her argument, she went on to say that men were extremely envious of a woman’s ability to give birth to another human and called it ‘Womb Envy’.

Nira suddenly got on the bed and raised her cup of tea in the air, “Girls, I would like to toast to the both of you and also to this generation of women! We are stronger than we ever have been before and there is nothing that can between what we want to achieve in life and who we want to become. I really hope that we are able to become the women we deserve and have the ability to become. There will be obstacles, but we have the power in ourselves to overcome them!”

Most ‘normal’ people have so called ideal and perfect pictures of themselves, built on a flexible assessment of their abilities. But for neurotics, this self image is inflexible and unrealistic. They construct a ‘Tyranny of shoulds’ which is an attempt to realise this ideal self image, by going along with the ideals which they should embody. They often defend themselves by projecting these conflicts onto the outside world in a process called Externalisation.

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