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#the analogies are just me describing what i feel like using them
tooies · 7 months
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hi sorry i haven't been very active on here lately it's just i've been super busy these past few weeks and been putting most of my Posting energy into cohost both because of the whole Situation here and because cohost just feels so much nicer. twitter is like wading through a dirty canal flooded with knee-high wastewater with a bunch of people are all lined up on the sides of the canal yelling at you and each other while tumblr is like walking uphill through a nature trail on your way to work on an excessively cold day but cohost is like biking downhill along another nature trail on a pleasant summer's evening. if that makes sense
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rosemaze-reveries · 6 months
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During an interview, the manor guests suddenly get a question about you.
this is def an experimental format!! i got this idea while reading the character letters. in the POV of an unknown interviewer (not reader). reader uses they/them.
🔗⚰️📰🔮❤️‍🩹💉🌪️✂️🍀🩰🔫🪡🤹🧲🦋🐍
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Q. Could you describe your relationship with (Y/N)?
🔗 Ada - "Yes, that's my lover. I would say our relationship falls within the typical scope of that sort of thing. Of course, I believe we share something special, but everyone does when they're in love, don't they?" She covers all her bases in one decisive breath, leaving little room for me to comment.
⚰️ Aesop sits perfectly upright, fingers threaded at his knees. His eyes drift to the side and he seems to begin speaking mid-thought. "I had... cautioned myself not to upset their perception of me," he explains. "But they pried, and stayed, regardless of what they found... For that, I'm grateful."
📰 Alice has kept a sharp eye on me the entire time, but it's at this question that she drops the formalities. "I wasn't aware you would be prying into my personal affairs. Where did you learn that name?" Her frankness pins me in place. For some reason, I end up apologizing.
🔮 Eli can't help a sheepish smile from blooming across his face. "Well, truthfully... I don't use this term lightly, but they might be the love of my life." He has been consistently grounded with his responses, so I'm surprised to catch him flustered, however subtle it is. Personally, I'm touched.
❤️‍🩹 Emil considers for a moment. He doesn't meet me in the eye, instead pinning his gaze on nowhere in particular. A faint smile ghosts his lips. After a while, he answers, simply, "Safe."
💉 Emily's hands are folded neatly on her lap. At the mention of that name, her shoulders tense, but she otherwise maintains her composure. "Someone I trust." Her answer is vague and cautious, but acceptable. I'll try to uncover a deeper meaning behind that 'trust'.
🌪️ Ithaqua - "Mine." He is curt and to the point. Yours? I echo, hoping he'll elaborate. His head tilts to the side, and while I can't see the face behind his mask, a sense of dread suddenly overcomes me. I decide not to press further.
✂️ Jack stretches out his hand of blades, flexing each finger in front of him. I can't deny the cold sweat that drips down my spine just by being in his presence. "May I respond with a question of my own?" he says to me. "Suppose a butterfly loses its way, and winds up caught in a spider's web. Wouldn't you agree that the more it writhes and struggles, the more exhilarated the spider becomes?" I don't have the courage to hear out the rest of this analogy.
🍀 Lucky - "I've always been known as a pretty lucky guy, but the luckiest day of my life was when I met them! I remember it was the—" He drags me down a long-winded story about their life together. I get the idea. Eventually I'm forced to cut him off.
🩰 Margaretha twirls a curl of hair, a meek blush dusting her cheeks. "Have you ever been in love before? You're never prepared for the magic of it all. I feel a new rush with them everyday. I know, realistically, all good things come to an end, so I tried to remind myself to expect the worst, but they've proven over and over that... I'll never feel safer than in their arms." After rambling for some time, a look of surprise flashes across her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go off like that. Oh, but I've just never met someone who feels so much like true love before."
🔫 Martha doesn't miss a beat. "Sorry, I don't know anyone by that name." I look down to double-check the name written in her file. Her watchful gaze follows my line of sight. Are you sure? I try. "Must've been some confusion somewhere," she insists. The next day, I realize all my files on her and (Y/N) have gone missing.
🪡 Matthias - "Wh-What?" he starts, but keeps going before I can repeat the question. "Oh, uh, an ally, I guess." Well, I gathered that much. When I press for more details, his head sinks low, fingers grasping at the armrest. "I don't know what they saw in me. Was it out of pity?"
🤹 Mike's eyes light up and he blinds me with a contagious smile. "(Y/N)'s a sneaky one, and I mean it—they've got me under the trickiest spell of all. Guess what happens every time I think about them?" Egged on by his grin, I take the bait. You get lovesick? I guess. Suddenly, he tosses a handful of butterfly glitter in my face. "I get butterflies!" Very funny, I sigh, exasperated with these carnies. Why did he have that on hand in the first place?
🧲 Norton leans back in his chair, scowling. "What's that got to do with anything?" He snaps a couple times in my face, urging me to "stay on topic." It's hard to say if this question struck a nerve, as he's been uncooperative for most of this interview, but my suspicions point me to prod further. After all, it'd have been much easier if he just said he didn't know them.
🦋 Vera's face contorts into a leery, hostile glower. "Why do you ask that?" Before I can say anything to mitigate the rising tension, she catches herself, and her expression softens slightly. "I'm sorry. That's... someone quite dear to me, so your question took me by surprise."
🐍 Yidhra's follower goes pale, clearly unnerved. "She won't answer that," she tells me through shallow breaths. "Th-This isn't my place to say, but I'd advise you not to involve yourself with that person." As if on cue, I get a sensation I can only describe as a hand slowly wrapping around my neck. It disappears when I move to scratch it. Must've been my imagination.
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Part 2
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strang3lov3 · 4 months
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Raise
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Roman Roy x f!reader (6.1k)
Summary - Roman will increase your raise substantially, so long as you don't lose his game.
Tags - 18+ smut mdni, harassment, manipulation, coercion, dubcon, blowjobs, fingering, oral, brief ass eating and play, unprotected piv, rough sex, creampie, reader has a bush but is otherwise not described, roman is dominant because i like him that way, reader has a sick cat.
A/N - hello Roman readers!! it's been a while, but I hope to write a little more of him for you this summer. Thank you for being patient with me and for all of the love and support on Invisible Line . Enjoy the smut my friends
Graciously edited by my love @noxturnalpascal <3
You’re sitting at Roman’s desk, staring at the back of his monitor, counting the number of pens in his cup. You wonder how much he actually writes with them, if he has a favorite and which one it could be. Roman’s making you wait on him, just because he can. He likes to watch you squirm. He’s got an analog clock on the wall that ticks loudly, something he probably hand picked himself. Obnoxious, just like him. 
It’s been about a year of you working at Waystar, a year of putting up with Roman’s antics. It started with some light hazing, as others called it. Roman would humiliate you in meetings, going out of his way to make your day worse. He’d stick a leg out in the aisle of his jet to trip your feet, scuff your pretty heels you worked so hard saving up for. Most bullies get a rise out of their victim’s reaction, but Roman always seemed equally amused by your lack of one. He was relentless, and his tormenting only escalated as time went on. Pinching your ass cheek in a crowded elevator, groping you on the jet, whispering vulgar things in your ear. Roman, ever the walking sexual harassment lawsuit, but nothing you can’t handle. He seems to know this too. 
He’s harmless, after all. Gossip is rich at Waystar Royco, especially when it comes to the family. Kendall went on another bender, Logan’s pissing in closets and losing it, Roman can’t get it up - scared of pussy, always has been, always will be. You’d heard it all before, so you know that all of his touching, inappropriate sexual remarks, they’re just a façade. But yet, you’re not immune to the anxiety he invokes within you. Your heart pounds when Roman enters the room, pounds harder when he locks the door behind him. You feel the pulse between your thighs. 
Roman takes a seat across from you at his desk, papers in hand, and taps the edge of them on the wood to line them up. Your legs are crossed, you’re wiggling your ankle. Anxious tic. “Are you nervous?” he asks. “You don’t have to be. It’s just me and you, you and me. Nothing to be nervous about.”
“I know,” you reply quietly.   
“Cool. So I’m gonna start us off. You’ve been here for uhhh….” Roman hums, thinking, “Little over a year now, so congratulations are in order. So congrats,” he says, motioning to you with the papers in his hand. 
“Thank you,” you say.
Roman continues, “It’s been nice having you here, for a number of reasons. Number of reasons,” he smirks, his voice a little lower. You shift uncomfortably in your seat when he glances at you through his eyebrows, still mostly looking down at his papers. “I like having you here, a lot. I do,” Roman says. He’s throwing you off though,  and you know he’s trying to make you second guess yourself, walk on eggshells around him. And it works. “It’s just…I don’t know. Not that impressed with your performance lately.” 
“Okay…Why, exactly?”
“You tell me.”
Roman’s good at what he’s doing. He knows exactly the kind of inflection in his tone he needs to take to really get under your skin, make you pick at your nails a little more urgently, tug at that loose string in your skirt until it breaks. Roman likes you - really, he does. You’re quiet, you do as you’re told, you’re maybe a little meek for his taste, but there’s worse things than that. He had a conversation with you recently on the plane and got to know you a little better. 
-
During the flight he’d noticed the cat photo on your phone’s lock screen and asked about it. “Who’s this?” 
“Artie,” you replied. “He’s my baby. He’s a sick old man, but he’s my baby.”
“Sick? How sick?”
You shrugged, not really wanting to get into it entirely. It’s difficult to think about. “He’s getting uncomfortable. He’s got a few years left in him, I think, but he’s got some stuff going on. I take him in for these treatments every two weeks, and they’re getting too expensive. And he’s got teeth issues, so he’s in pain. And just - none of it’s affordable, so I’m considering…I don’t know. You know.” 
Roman nodded sympathetically, then asked what vet’s office you take Artie to. You stifled your laugh when he told you that he always considered himself a cat person. Roman, a cat person. It’s hard to think of him as an actual human at times, bizarre to think of him as a human that could identify with any sort of animal. If anything, you would have guessed he’d associate with a snake. Bearded dragon, maybe. You don’t know.
 “Seriously, I love ‘em,” he explained, “Dogs are just so in your face, you know? I don’t know. They’re fine, I guess. One of god’s creatures. I’ve just always liked cats.”
“Didn’t know that,” you replied with a small smile. 
“You do now,” he said. He was a little too close for comfort, sitting next to you bicep to bicep, thigh to thigh. Roman whispered, “I can help you, if you ask for it.”
“Ask for what?”
“You know. You’ve got an anniversary coming up, yeah? Usually means a raise. What do you think, would five percent be enough? Take care of your kitty cat and a little extra for you?” Your eyes lit up at that and you nodded excitedly. “I need you to ask.” 
“Can I have…” Nervous it might be a trap, you trail off, but Roman raised his eyebrows and nodded, encouraged to go on. It felt less like a trap than normal, though. “Five percent?”
“Oh, it’d be my pleasure. We’ll have a performance meeting here soon, we’ll bang it all out,” Roman squeezes your thigh a couple of times, you don’t even jump like you usually do when he touches you and flirts. “Yeah?”
-
You tell me.
You’re caught off guard, zero clue what Roman could be referring to. “I don’t - you - what did I do?” your voice comes out shakier, more defensive than you intended.
“Hey, relax. Just you and me, like I said. It’ll be fine.” Roman waits for you to reply, but you’re silent. “It’s not a big deal, really, and it’s fixable. You know, with discipline and all that. I’ve just noticed you’ve got quite the habit of sneaking off to the supply closet? Hours at a time, sometimes, and always when I need you most. What is it you’re doing in there?”
Still silent. Moreso now, as if that’s even possible, because you know exactly what Roman’s talking about. You wonder how much he knows, if he’s heard or - god forbid - seen anything. You’re not going to talk about it.
“That’s fine,” Roman says, “Don’t tell me. Anyway, I see here you’re asking for a five percent raise, the best I can do is one and a half. Insulting, I know, but - well - you know, keep up the hard work. I’m sure you’ll get there.”
“But the plane,” you argue, “Roman, you told me to ask for five.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not - ugh -” he groans then, an exaggerated groan, like he’s really trying to sell it. You shouldn’t have trusted him on the plane, you should’ve known he’d fuck you. He always fucks you, he fucks everyone. “I’m not happy about this either. I think you deserve your five percent. Fuck it, I think you deserve ten. But my hands are tied.”
“But they’re not, Roman, you said–”
“I know what I said, but I told you: you’re dropping the ball, and I just don’t feel that you deserve that five percent anymore. Don’t think it’s representative of the kind of work you’ve been doing here.”  
Roman stares at you from across his desk, putting on his own pouty face to mock yours. You feel disappointed, both in him and in yourself. Dejected. It’s your own fault, for two reasons: A, trusting Roman to throw you a bone and B, getting called out for the closet thing. He stands up, tapping fingers on his desk as he rounds it to sit in the chair next to you and puts a hand on your thigh, always with the hand on your thigh. You’re almost used to it. He says, “You’re upset. I know. I’m sorry. But some raise is better than no raise, right?” with a squeeze to your flesh.
“Yeah. I guess. Was just excited, you and I…we talked about this,” you whisper. Poor Artie. You had told him excitedly that he’s gonna start having good days again. Good thing cats don’t speak English.
“I know. I don’t - yeah, I don’t know. That was before though, wasn’t it? Maybe if you tell me what you’ve been doing in that supply closet I’ll wiggle a bit.” Roman looks at you quietly, a sly smirk on his lips, still drumming his fingers against the top of his desk as he allows you time to explain yourself. When the silence hangs long enough, he decides to switch gears. He bends down and lifts your leg up onto his lap, escalating those touches of his again. “Nice heels. I like these on you,” he says. 
“Thank you,” you mumble cautiously. Is that it? Is the meeting over? He brought you in here just to tell you that your raise might as well be nothing at all, and then what? He’s turning your foot in his hand, now, and you’re tensing up with his touch. 
“Sure.” Roman says. He doesn’t ask permission when he pulls the shoe off, exposing your foot - he’d never ask permission. With his pointer finger, he traces your skin, starting at your heel, tracing up, up, he watches your toes curl as he follows the curve of each one. He tells you he likes the way your toes are pedicured.
“Roman,” you protest, trying to pull your foot from his grip. Roman ignores you and squeezes your ankle tightly with his other hand as he continues to touch your skin. 
“You’re ticklish,” he says, now tracing the length of the bottom of your foot. You’re wiggling and fighting not to kick him but you do, accidentally. You kick harder than you expected, certainly harder than Roman expected as well. This much is evident when he lets out a surprised noise, a groan of pain, and chuckles at that.  “Alright, alright, don’t hurt me. I’ll stop.” 
Stop tickling you, maybe. But he’s not done touching you, oh not at all. He pulls on your other leg and brings it to his lap, rolls your chair until it’s as close as can be, flush with his legs. He sits your feet on top of the arm rests of his chair and his hands are traveling up your legs now, fingers skating over your kneecaps and you jolt again, one of your shins hit the hardwood of his desk and you suck a sharp breath through your teeth. “You’re ticklish here, too?” Roman asks, circling your knee with his middle and forefingers. His question is answered when you squirm and shimmy in your seat, reaching to pry his hands away as you bite down on your lip to hide the smile that betrays you. “Wow. Sensitive, very sensitive. Are you sensitive everywhere?”
One of his hands is climbing up your thigh now, his fingertips hidden beneath the fabric of your skirt. You look over her shoulder, then hear the click of Roman hitting a button on his remote. Shades descend down the vast planes of his indoor windows, concealing you and Roman in privacy. 
Not that there’s many people in the office, anyway. Your stomach drops and your heart pounds loudly, loud enough that Roman might hear if it weren’t for your heavy breathing, made up of fear, arousal, anticipation. You face Roman again and the sun is setting behind him, there’s not much light on his face and he looks almost like a movie in black and white. Fuck, he’s so sexy like this, sleeves rolled up and his small, crooked smirk. He’s gorgeous, with his longish strands of dark hair, his eyes that flicker between colors of hazel and green, now darkened nearly black. He taps you, “Hey, you. I asked you something.”
“Y-yeah, I’m ticklish,” you stutter.
“Well duh, I know you’re ticklish, look–” Roman reaches behind himself to tickle your foot again, and he catches your ankle when you try to kick him away. Your foot goes right back where he wants it. “I asked if you’re sensitive. Sensitive like, what’re you gonna do if my hand goes up your skirt?”
“Roman, what are you–”
“Nothing you don’t want me to do.” he interrupts. Roman continues, “Maybe my hands aren’t as tied as we thought. I could get you that ten percent, if you’d let me.” 
With one hand drawing lazy patterns on your bare thigh, the other is unbuckling his belt, the sound is unmistakable. He’s palming his bulge through his Calvin Klein briefs, groaning as he does so. Then he pulls his cock out, where it springs up against his tummy. You must look shocked or scared by this, because Roman tells you to relax. “I’m not doing anything. You don’t have to suck me off, I don’t even have to fuck you. I probably will, though. It’s easy.”
“What’s easy?”
“What I’m gonna do to you,” he says plainly. He continues, “If you let me have my way with you, toy with you for as long as I’d like, however I like, I’ll get you your ten percent. Promise. I know it’s like, super off the books, but…more fun this way, I think. And you’d agree too, wouldn’t you?”
“Roman, we’re gonna…we’re gonna get in trouble, Roman,” you caution.  
“But you don’t disagree, though.” 
“We’re going to get in trouble,” you repeat.
“Only if you tattle. And you’re not gonna tattle on me, are you? ‘Cause that would be stupid. You know what’d happen - they’d ask if I harassed you, and you’d say yes, of course, because you know I love to. They’d ask you how long it’s been going on for, da da da. You know. But then–” Roman pushes your knees apart, opening you up wide for him and your skirt bunches up at the top of your thighs, “I’ll tell them how you spread your legs for me, how you moaned for me - ‘cause you will. Oh, I’ll make you. And I’ll tell them how you wanted it this way. Always wanted it this way, didn’t you?” he asks. “You can be honest.”
Your body will do nothing if not betray you. You nod, because you’ve fantasized about this. Oh, you’ve fantasized about all of this, about Roman. And they’re never normal fantasies, always the dirtiest and most shameful. Roman fucking you against a window he masturbates on, people below could watch if they wanted. Roman hitting you, hurting you. Teasing you. Making you cry, then kissing away your tears. You’ll squeeze your legs together on the plane when you think of these things, often sitting across from Roman or right next to him. Slip away when you need relief, desperately dance your fingers around your clit. Roman always watches you after you emerge from your hiding place, like he knows, like he can smell it on you.“Yeah, I know. This’ll be fun then. Lotta fun.” 
Roman brings one of your feet to his lips and kisses it, kisses up your ankle and your leg, his stubble brushing and scratching against your skin. Remembering his rule, that he’ll do as he pleases and that you just have to take it, you ask him, “What are you, oh fuck–” you gasp and moan when he sucks on a spot near your inner knee, an area you didn’t even know could feel that way. “What are you gonna do to me?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he taunts. He kisses your other leg, swirling his tongue in circles on your skin. “Whatever I want, that’s what I’m gonna do to you. Does that answer your question?”  
Roman bends forward, wriggles his hands beneath your skirt and paws at your hips until he hooks his fingers into the fabric of your panties, then pulls them down and off your legs. He admires his work, seeing as they’re already slick with your arousal. “Wet for me already,” he comments, sniffing your panties before tucking them away. You’re embarrassed by that, heat creeps up your neck and paints your cheeks. Roman continues, “But yeah, I don’t know, though, to answer your question. What do you think I’m gonna do to you?” 
“Touch me,” you breathe. You’re not sure if it’s an answer to his question or a demand. Roman smiles at your desperation.
“Well yeah, of course I’m gonna touch you. I’ll touch you more than I touch myself, and you know that’s a lot. You should probably be scared.” 
Roman inches closer, placing one of his hands on top of the back of your chair, caging you in. He has such a way of making you feel so small. A hand sneaks between your thighs, where he first toys with your tuft of curls, dampened by your arousal. “How nice. You shaved for me.”
He dips his fingers between your lips, dragging them through your slickened folds. You’re sighing, your head falling back against your chair as you finally feel him where you’ve been needing him most. You’re so wet, he notices, parting your flesh. Wet enough that as he touches you lightly, just teasing, your cunt makes sticky, lewd noises for him. He dips a finger inside you, circles your clit with his thumb to see what he’s working with. He wants to know how easily you moan, how he can make you whimper. He wants to find out just how sensitive you are really. You’re loud, despite your fighting to keep quiet. Roman hushes you, “Shhhh. Are you always this loud? Or is it just for me?” 
You’re already close and he knows this by the way your clit twitches under his thumb, how your cunt is beginning to pulse and squeeze his knuckles. “Just for me,” he mumbles under his breath. He clears his throat before speaking, “One - one little caveat though, sweetheart, and I think you’ll wanna listen.”
“I’m listening,” you rasp. Roman’s movements never falter, but you’re not even conscious of the way you’re frantically holding his wrist. Don’t stop, don’t stop. 
“If you come, you’re not getting a raise.” 
You lift your head to look at Roman. “What?”
“What?” He mocks you. “Yeah,” he says, “Double or nothing. I’ll double your ask if you’re good and if you don’t come. Or - er…I mean, you’re getting one and a half percent, and a jump to ten would be…” Roman does the math in his head, “Like, six point six repeating. So technically, sextuple or nothing but fucking…whatever. Isn’t that fitting, sextuple?”
“Roman–”
“You come on my fingers, tongue, cock and you get…nothing at all. It’s a game, it’s a fun game. Fun for me, at least.”
Roman continues to tease you. You stare at him for a moment, when the eye contact becomes too intense you drop your eyes to your lap, staring at the fabric of your skirt that dances with his movements. 
“Look–” he says, “You can tap out if you want. Take your one and a half percent and be on your way. You know I’m not gonna force you to do anything.” 
Roman changes the angle a bit, curls his fingers until he finds that spot that makes you gasp and shudder. He hums in amusement as you squirm and bite back a moan. “Roman, I’m gonna, I’m gonna,” you pant, “I need a second, Roman.”
Roman stops, to your surprise. You didn’t really expect him to. “Works out, actually, because I need a moment to think about what I’m gonna do to you. On your knees for me, sweetheart, come on,” He reaches to help you move, your slick on his fingertips now on your legs. Once you’re on your knees for him, just how he wanted. He pumps his cock a couple of times and reaches with his free hand to take you by the chin, guiding you to where he wants you. “There you go - good girl. Good girl.” 
He keeps a hand on your head, urging you lower until the tip of his cock breaches your lips. You swirl your tongue around the head a couple of times to tease him, but Roman doesn’t have it. “Nuh-uh, cut that out. No teasing, down you go,” he says, pushing your head down on his cock. “Down. Hand goes here,” Roman reaches for one of your hands and spits in it before guiding it to the base of his cock where he wraps his fingers around yours. He twists your hand for you as he keeps a firm pressure on your scalp, encouraging you to take him deep. You whimper and sputter on his cock, it’s too much yet. He’s thick and long, filling your mouth entirely. “Can’t, Roman, it’s too much,” you whine.
“Oh, come on. Yes you can,” Roman pushes himself into your mouth once more, controlling the pace to his liking though it’s still too much for you and he knows it, he can feel it when he bucks his hips, cock hitting the back of your throat and you gag. “I think you’ll get used to it.”
But you don’t. Roman fucks himself deep into your mouth and your eyes prick with tears, your jaw is so sore already. You wonder if he’s even thinking about what he’s gonna do to you, like he said he would. He doesn’t appear to be, not with the way his eyes are rolling back and his brows are furrowed together as he moans softly. He squeezes your hand, reminding you to put it to use. “Look at you,” he says, holding the side of your face and skating his thumb over your cheekbone, you’d almost call it tender. “God, you’re good at this. I think you’re made for this, don’t you?” You bob your head, trace your tongue along the veins of his shaft and Roman answers his own question, “You are.” 
Your jaw is still sore with the newness of it all, but you’re finally about used to the feeling when Roman pulls you off of his cock. His eyes are bright and excited, he wears a mischievous smirk as he pulls on your swollen, wet lips with his thumb. Roman takes your hands and pulls you to your feet at the same time as he stands up from his chair, he leads you to his couch and sits you on the armrest as he unbuttons your shirt, unhooks your bra. He holds your torso in both of his hands, breathing heavily as they travel up, up, where he cups your breasts, teasing your nipples with his fingers. Pinching and rolling one, flicking the other. “You are sensitive, aren’t you? I bet I could make you come like this. Maybe I’ll try.”
“Roman, please don’t.”
Roman tilts his head in amusement. “Really not your call, but I won’t, sweetheart. Maybe next time. Open your mouth for me.”
“Rome–”
 Roman reaches into his pocket and pulls out your worn panties. He stuffs them in your mouth, the cotton is rough on your tongue but you can still taste your own arousal. “I guess you’re not always so quiet, huh? Didn’t know you could make so much noise. Just had to wiggle it out of you. I’ll keep it in mind,” he comments, loosening his necktie now. Once loosened, he turns you around and presses a kiss to the blade of your shoulder. “This–” he says, tying the silk around your wrists, “Is so you can’t cheat and push me away. You are going to lie here and you are going to take what I give you, and you’re playing by the rules. No coming, I mean - not unless you wanna lose your raise. It is all up to you, my darling.” Roman pushes you down then, your face in the cushions of the couch as he pulls your hips back, putting you right where he wants you. “And don’t try lying to me, either, telling me you didn’t come. I’ll know. I know the noises you make, and I’ve watched you come. You’re very obvious.”
You let out a muffled noise of surprise at that. Roman chuckles. 
“Yeah, I was waiting to see if you’d fess up to what you do on your little supply runs. Been getting off to it actually, you know? Cameras everywhere. You put on a nice little show for me.”
Well, fuck. Cat’s out of the bag. Has been actually, if Roman’s telling the truth, and you know he is.  
“Yeah, no. It was odd. It was last week, and you were in my office doing whatever it is that you do. And then I came in all sweaty from my workout, I don’t know. You gave me this sort of deer in the headlights look and ran off, something about needing new Sharpies. And I just found it odd for just a…just a couple of reasons, you know? Like one, I like Sharpies, those slutty little pens. So I keep them around, and two, you have an iPad. You don’t use Sharpies.” Roman finds the zipper on the side of your skirt, pulls it down slowly before pulling the skirt off of you entirely, tossing it behind him. You’re bare for him now, all exposed and your arms tied tightly behind you. “So I mosey on down to security, and I’m just curious. Naturally, of course. I take a seat and I flip through the channels until I find you in your closet and sure as shit, you’re fucking yourself. And those cameras have mics too, so I hear everything. Roman, oh Roman,” he mocks. “That was my favorite part. All pathetic and desperate for me, music to my ears. I must really do it for you, don’t I? When I’m all sweaty and gross. You’re a freak, huh? My favorite little pornstar, and you didn’t even know it.”
You feel him move behind you, anticipating the feeling of his cock breaching your entrance. But the feeling never comes. Instead, you hear the small crack of his joints as Roman kneels behind you. You let out a muffled gasp when you finally feel him touch you, his big hands squeezing your ass cheeks before he spreads you apart, spitting on your hole. How vulnerable you must feel, Roman wonders. He wonders how much you trust him, if at all. Now you’re gonna have to.
You first feel his tongue circling your tight hole, then he presses a few kisses there, all wet and sloppy. He dips his tongue inside you and you squirm a bit at the unfamiliar sensation. It’s different and unexpected, especially coming from Roman. 
He pulls away from you momentarily, “I know. I promise I’ll get you off soon,” and you feel him smirking against you before swirling his tongue one last time around your hole, and then his lips travel lower. He’s kissing at your slick folds now, dipping his tongue inside your wet heat as he inhales you, your sweet arousal. He traces you with his tongue, just for fun, just for a moment before finding your clit, sucking and licking at the sensitive bud. 
He doesn’t eat you the way he should. He doesn’t savor you, there’s no love in it. Passion, determination, sure - but no love. His tongue and lips on your clit is not something he’s doing for you, it’s something he’s doing to you, for his own amusement. It’s all aggression, all fingernails cutting into your skin under his bruising grip, a relentless assault on your sex. His scruff scratches your inner thighs and rubs you raw, you’ll be feeling him for days after, skin burning under the lather of your lavender scented soap in the shower. And worst of all, you fucking love it. There’s nothing you can do about it, and you fucking love it. Even in your fantasies, all those midday supply closet visits, you always knew it’d be like this. No tenderness or adoration, not from broken Roman and certainly not like this. You wouldn’t have it any other way. 
You’re moaning something but you don’t know what, not with your own panties shoved down your throat. Roman thinks it’s his name, he thinks he can hear the two syllables. He keeps you still, held tight in his grip so that you can’t writhe and grind against his mouth and take control of your pleasure like he knows you’re trying to do. Like Roman said, you’re gonna take it. You’re gonna feel his perfect, pointed nose tease that space he just fucked with his tongue. Feel his lips lap at your poor, swollen clit. He eats you voraciously, consumes you whole and you’re beginning to see stars.
Roman intently listens to all those different noises you’re making. Muffled cries and those wet, lewd sounds of your cunt being licked, sucked, kissed, lapped. And he can feel your thighs twitching with your impending release, “Don’t come,” he reminds you in a singsong tone. “I’m not gonna stop this time. Don’t come.”
Your groan of frustration is muffled too, but unmistakable all the same. Only when Roman’s jaw and his tongue begin to tire does he finally relent, pulling away from your body but not before he kisses and bites your ass cheek right where it meets your thigh. Roman stands then, pumps his cock a couple of times with his fist before he lines up with your entrance, notching himself inside you. He offers no warning before burying himself in you unceremoniously, splitting you in two. You cry out, balling your bound fists. In a small gesture of kindness, Roman reaches for your hands and squeezes, rubs his thumb comfortingly over your palm as he allows you just a moment to get used to the stretch and the ache. When the tension dissipates and your fingers relax, he pulls out of you all the way and pushes himself right back in, even harder and faster than before. “God, you’re fuckin’ tight.”
He fucks you slow at first, searching for the right pace and angle to make you squirm. You arch your back and keen into the sensation, then quickly pull away as you realize you’ve given him another tell. But Roman’s attentive. With your sweet spot now in mind, he sets a quick pace with a zealous snapping of his hips, his neatly trimmed tuft of pubic hair rubs against your ass. He works a hand between you and his couch, pressing his fingertips against your clit and using his thrusts to stimulate it. He gives you his all and you can do nothing but take it, take him. “Fuck,” he pants, circling your asshole with his thumb before pressing it inside. “Oh, fuck. Tough nut to crack, aren’t you? I’ll get there. I’ll break you, just you wait.”
It’s not easy, and knowing what you’re not supposed to do. And it’s what Roman’s not trying to do that makes it all the more impossible. He’s fucking loud, all whines and groans and swears. And you’ve heard it all before from his mouth, but the way he strings it together has you dizzy. ‘Oh, fuck’ followed by a moan and another ‘Fuck’. Heavy breathing, ‘Such a good girl’ and a sharp inhale. Your panties feel extra obnoxious in your mouth now, knowing how much noise he makes himself. Glass houses, you think. Roman pulls out of you and flips you over so you’re face to face with him and then he’s right back at it, entering you once more and thumbing your clit just like he did in the chair. He’s glad he did so, learned what kind of tight circles to paint your clit with to make you moan loudest. 
It’s sensitive and you’re right there, aching for release you know you shouldn’t allow yourself. It’s a constant fight, a push and pull between indulging in your pleasure and trying your hardest to block it out. You can’t quite read his expression when Roman notices your tear stained eyes, but he pulls your spit-soaked panties from your mouth and wipes your wet cheeks. 
“You’re fine. You can take it,” he encourages. He pulls you closer so that you’re face to face, chest to chest, holding you tightly against himself. “It’s a lot, I know. You’re doing good.” 
“Oh, Roman,” you moan, your eyes knit shut as you lean forward and bite into his neck to subdue your cries of pleasure. It helps to stave off your impending release. 
“Oh, you bite hard,” Roman taunts, “Do what you need to do, whatever you think will work.”
It doesn’t work. He continues to round your clit with his thumb as he rolls his hips into yours and you know it and he knows it. Your breaths are shallow, your moans are strangled and you’re squirming. You’re so fucking close. 
“It’s gonna happen, isn’t it? And you can’t do a fucking thing about it, can you?” Roman goads, “You gonna come for me?”
“No,” you whimper. 
“Oh, come on. Just let go. You know I’m gonna get it out of you, one way or another. So quit torturing yourself, just let go for me. Hey–” he pulls back to look you in the eyes, stroking your back with one of his hands and his voice is kind, saccharine. “Just let go.” Roman nods, eyebrows raised as he searches for your confirmation. When you nod back, Roman smiles. He’s got you in the palm of his hand. 
It’s a just few seconds of Roman teasing your clit with those tight, steadied circles as he fucks you deeply. And then you’re there, and god is it intense. You shake and stutter in Roman’s arms, and you’re certain you’re breaking into pieces, he’s just holding you together and thank god for that. Roman’s jaw twitches and he’s about to come undone with you, but he never loses focus on you. You’re gonna give him everything you have and he’s gonna make sure of it. 
“Roman, Roman, Roman,” you cry. “Oh my god, Roman, please.”
“Fuck me,” he hisses. It’s too much and too sensitive as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release. He comes with a whine, painting your insides with his hot come before his thrusts slow to a still. Roman pulls out of you slowly, groaning as he does so. His come spills onto the expensive upholstery of his couch, but he doesn’t seem bothered. He’s still close to you as he fumbles with the knot of his necktie holding your wrists together. You can smell him, the fresh sweat and faint cologne. When he unties you, you rub your irritated wrists in your hands, doing your best to process what just happened. You dress yourselves silently, the rustling and swishing of your clothes, the clinking of Roman’s belt buckle are the only sounds in the room.
The ripping up of papers startles you. Roman crumples the shredded papers that discussed your raise and tosses them in his trash can. Dramatic. You watch as he does so, your heart dropping. “Don’t start with the waterworks. You came on my cock, you knew the rules. This is on you,” he says, “Hey, don’t look at me like that. You’re fucking fine. Everything’s fine, okay?” 
-
It’s been about two weeks since your encounter with Roman. You’ve avoided him as much as one in your position can do, though it’s not easy. You use a variety of techniques, grey rocking, silent treatment. It doesn’t seem to deter him much. 
Artie sits in his carrier as you pull out your wallet to pay for what’s probably his last treatment. You can’t help but feel so selfish, so consumed by guilt.
“Oh–” the vet’s office receptionist says, “It’s been paid for already. You guys are good to go.”
“Oh no, that can’t be right. Here–” you hand her your card.
But the receptionist doesn’t take it. “It is, actually. There’s a credit on your account.”
“What?”
“Yeah, someone called a couple of weeks ago and put a substantial credit on your account. You’re good for a long time.”
“Who?”
The receptionist shrugs, “Anonymous donor. They left a message though, if that helps.”
“What’d they say?”
“Uhmm,” the receptionist blushes and stutters. Instead of answering you verbally, she turns her monitor around to show you. 
“For my favorite pornstar and her cat. Take care of him. -R”
If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a nice comment <3 your words keep me motivated.
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imbecominggayer · 20 days
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Writing Traumatic Backstories
Hello,it's me again! Sorry for dissappearing, I wanted a short little break from Tumblr. Obviously, I should have clearly communicated that fact instead of just going cold turkey!
From @differentnighttale : "How do I write characters who deal with severe trauma and pain with sensitivity and understanding"
Obviously with our topic today, there is going to be mentions of traumatic events and such. I won't go into any graphic or specific details but I just wanted to make it clear with a trigger warning
Since this lovely asker is specifically asking about sensitivity, I won't be addressing other related concerns about writing trauma but just focusing on this clear sensitivity! GET READY CAUSE THIS IS LONG!
Step One: Specificity Is Everything
You need to understand that various different traumatic instances will have their own different reactions based around various different incidents depending on what exactly happened and how many times it happened.
In general, the more times something happened, the more likely it would be leave an imprint. Obviously this is an oversimplification for the sake of an explanation :)
For abuse situations and other person vs person situations:
Consider the relationship your character has with this abuser! Is it obsessive? Neglectful? Don't just say it was a bad relationship! Describe to yourself what behavior and attitude specifically made this an unhealthy situation.
Did the abuser use any repetitive imagery? Did they use a specific tool most often? Did the abuse center on something specific? This can help guide you towards what can "trigger" this character!
What are the long-term affects this abusive situation have on this character? Did it make them question and distrust their self-worth, their safety, their identity, their body, their stability? Anything?
Was this abuser always bad? I don't mean in the "good person gone bad" route! I mean "is this character always abusive"? Most abusers aren't horrible 24/7 and can have their better sweeter moments. This often leaves their victims confused since the victims know more then anyone that this person wasn't just plain evil.
For natural disasters and accidents:
Where is the blame? Is it nature herself? Themself for not being careful enough? A real legitimate person who genuinely caused this accident? An imaginary individual that had no relationship?
What is the specific fear that this situation ignites? Is it this crushing feeling of isolation as they were suffering with no expectation of help? Is it the realization that life is out of their control which keeps them awake at night? Is it the chaos of that day? The fear of regret? The fear of death?
Answering these questions can often illuminate different ways to approach a character's traumatic backstory in unique and interesting ways. It also highlights potential coping mechanisms for your character.
Step Two: What Exactly Is Trauma's Effect On The Brain?
Remember: The following analogy is an oversimplified explanation of trauma. Afterward, the science explain-y part will come in :)
Imagine that the brain is an archive system. It gathers memories and puts away those memories under certain files. Then, the traumatic event(s) happen. Suddenly, the brain is unable to properly understand this. This causes the boss prefrontal cortex turns off. Now, the assistant is forced to take over. This assistant doesn't know what to do so they just do what they always do! Unfortunately, this fails to pacify the threat. And now the brain is mixing up all of the trauma's documents in an effort to just shove it into a filing cabinet. It doesn't work. Now everything new that arrives in needs to try and work through the trauma documents which are taking up the place!
SCIENCE PART!
During traumatic events, the "fear circuity" is activated. This causes the prefrontal cortex or the "decision-maker" to function less effectively. This causes a person goes into auto-pilot mode where they follow social habits.
This is why a person in a traumatic situation will sometimes engage in polite behavior with their abuser in an effort to "save face" as they typically do in social situations!
These events often physically mpact the brain! Specifically, in relation to learning and survival!
Advice In Order To Avoid Common Tropes:
Trauma is a highly complicated subject that is highly individualized and messy. But here are some "no fly" lists which often lead to traumatized characters appearing inauthentic and real traumatized people insulted.
Don't solve trauma in one conversation or one event. Working through trauma is ultimately about "moving on" in the sense of constantly moving forward but not leaving the trauma behind.
Don't romanticize certain coping mechanism. Oftentimes, media will have a hypersexual girl who learned to be hypersexual for trauma reasons. But this character doesn't exist so we can understand them. They exist for sexual appeal and tragedy brownie points.
Only include traumatic events if you can handle exploring them. If you aren't willing to deal with the implications of a certain backstory or serious mid-story event, don't write it in there.
Don't make it entirely resolved by the end. Recovery isn't about learning to "get rid" of the affect trauma has on someone. It's about working with those issues so you can learn to not drown in your issues.
Don't make the journey linear. Have your character relapse into bad unhealthy behavior. Make them have to struggle to relearn the same lessons again and again. It'll make the journey far more interesting and realistic.
Don't make bad coping mechanism black and white. Bad coping mechanisms were necessary once upon a time. They are good tools that have lived past their usefulness but they aren't illogical or evil.
Don't excuse bad behavior. Traumatic backstories offer an explanation of a character's behaviors but it doesn't make a character's actions okay.
They aren't just traumatic backstory. Oftentimes, they only thing we ever learn about a character is their deep issues and facade. But real traumatized people aren't just defined by the bad things that happen to them. They had dreams, goals, and friends that aren't pure tragedy.
They are people. While people are definitely defined by their trauma, don't make them think only of their trauma. People with sad backstories aren't more special then people who don't. They have stupidly weird behaviors, they have hobbies that aren't related to their issues. Don't make them think of just the bad stuff.
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radioactive-juice · 4 months
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Okay so I just watched a video about the extinction from some guy’s Entities series and. Thoughts:
I feel like a lot of people forget that the Entities are not completely separate things. We have the colours analogy and the Giant Creature with multiple limbs too big to see that it’s all one thing. So, as much as it’s useful to understand stuff, Smirke’s 14 is canonically a very flawed explanation of something very difficult to comprehend. 
Especially with the revelation that the rituals will never work by themselves and that the entities need to all come into being at once, it’s clear that they are more connected than they are independent. 
The video was talking about the statements that are contested in terms of whether they are Extinction or whatever else. First, they can be both. Second, the point of the extinction’s Emergence isn’t so much Totally New Never Before Seen Fear but Fear Becoming More Widespread So We Should Distinguish Itself From Others. Fear of drastic change, the end of life as we know it, etc, existed before the Extinction was thought up, and will exist even though the Extinction never technically Emerged. Dekker says it is branching off from the End, but I think that’s still too rigid. 
In mag200 when we get the origin story of the fears, it starts as “Once, there was fear”. It’s one thing that starts to specialise as life gets more intelligent and learns the things to be scared of. Then, “The thing that was fear felt itself began to tear, to crack and fracture along a thousand unseen fault lines”. So, we do have confirmation that it isn’t just One Thing. But they started as one, which begs the question, where do we draw the lines between Fears?
I think a lot of us have the idea of Which Entities Are Which based on their motifs, which I think holds back our understanding. The Web is one that particularly gets me. As an Entity, it’s about control and manipulation, but a lot of the time it’s boiled down to Fear of Spiders. Spiders symbolise control because of their webs, the idea of being trapped, knowing your fate but unable to escape it. That’s the essence of the Web. Falling into a spider nest and getting them all over your face? Horrifying, but not the right psychological aspects. I’d say it’s more Corruption, feeding more on the fear of disgusting things. I think puppets would be an interesting motif for The Web, but puppets are like dolls which are basically monopolised by the Stranger. Now I’m starting to rant. In general, I believe we could have a lot more interesting interpretations of the Entities if we thought of them more as the psychological fear they represent rather than their common motifs. For example, I really like what they did with the Buried also representing debt rather than simply Dirt. 
On the fandom wiki (I know it sucks. If there’s a better alternative lemme know), a lot of the s5 domains are described as serving multiple fears, which makes sense since they cater so closely to the specific fears of the people in them, which aren’t necessarily a single Fear. Then, of course, we have Protocol. I’ve seen a few posts echoing the same point of We Don’t Need to Rethink the Fears to Make Protocol Make Sense, We Just Need to Stop Defining Everything So Rigidly. I hope Protocol continues to Get Weird with it so we’re forced to think about the Fears from a different perspective than Archives. It’s healthy. It’s enrichment. 
In conclusion, the Fears aren’t so separate, Smirke’s 14 has never been real, the Extinction isn’t a world-breaking anomaly, and motifs don’t necessarily define what Powers are actually at play.  
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meowmarkie · 4 months
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nct dream as yearning songs
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a/n! This is for funzies only! I don’t know any of them personally so I’m only comparing and linking their behavior shown through videos with the behavior of those I know in real life (me included). And also, If you haven’t listened to any of these songs, PLEASE give them a listen bc I feel like it’ll help you guys better understand my vision :)
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Mark - End Of Beginning, Djo
Just one more tear to cry, one teardrop from my eye
You better save it for
The middle of the night when things aren't black and white
Enter, Troubadour
"Remember 24?"
Mark’s always talking about finally beginning a project whenever he’s with the dreamies, so I always get reminded of this song (that’s not the only reason tho) once the “is it really starting this time?” teasing commences — even though it might pass as a “funny” quirk, the need to establish out loud that they are “restarting” or finally starting things as if from scratch, might be because of something deeper. Mark seems like the kind of guy who works hard and reminisces about his past, especially when it comes to where it all (ironically) started. He works so hard and is almost never relaxing or taking a vacation, he says he’s fine, but since I'm a workaholic as well, I can tell you guys that we always end up breaking down because of how much stuff we’re doing. So, in those overwhelming moments, I can imagine Mark looking back to when he was in Canada, being able to rest and take in all the small pleasures the world can offer, not having to worry about his image, his feelings, his needs or if he’s “korean enough” to be working as an idol (idk about you guys, but that distinction between being a pure korean vs a mixed korean would drive me insane. I’d be so upset to always have to prove myself and prove that part of my nationality), reminiscing about the times when he was full of dreams, peace, and most importantly, energy.
You take the man out of the city, not the city out the man
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Renjun - Abstract (Psychopomp), Hozier
See how it shines
Renjun is a very simple and honest man; he knows what he likes, what he doesn’t and knows how to set up his boundaries. However, he’s really sensible when it comes to life (in ALL its meanings), which is why I’m reminded of this song whenever I think of him. I’m grateful for all the things Renjun has shared with us, such as his mental health, hobbies and just his personality in general. Abstract is a song that shows how much its “subject” is sensible, brave (for jumping into traffic in order to rescue the dying/already dead animal) and never seems to catch a break, while the one singing (in this case, Hozier) can only take in the sight, not being able to do anything to help. In this analogy, Renjun is the subject and his friends/family/fans are Hozier, y’all. I feel like he strives to protect those he loves, and yearns for their well being when he can’t do anything to help.
(it was tough to choose just a small part of the song, when in fact, in my opinion, the whole thing describes him so well)
The speed that you moved
The screech of the cars
The creature still moving
That slowed in your arms
The fear in its eyes
Gone out in an instant
Your tear caught the light
The Earth from a distance
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Jeno - Yes To Heaven, Lana Del Rey
If you go, I'll stay
You come back, I'll be right here
Like a barge at sea
In the storm, I stay clear
We’ve got ourselves a lover boy! No surprises there, I think. Even though this song comes from a female point of view, I think it still describes Jeno really well. Getting back on track, I feel like this suits him given the fact that when he likes someone, he likes someone — if he feels strongly like that, it’s even more intense when it comes to his loved ones, hence the song. Jeno would do anything in the world for his partner, and that includes fighting for them, to keep them by his side even if things get incredibly tough. 
His reason to yearn would be his person, before he even managed to win them over. Jeno would yearn for a life next to his loved one, for their acceptance and approval of him — nothing would make him happier than hearing a yes from his lover.
Say yes to Heaven
Say yes to me
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Haechan - Gilded Lily, Cults
Now it's been long enough to talk about it
I've started not to doubt it, just wrap my head around it
I remember when you told me it's an everyday decision
But with my double vision, how was I supposed to see the way?
This boy is one of the most hard-working human beings on earth, methinks. Because he’s always giving, exposing and donating parts of himself to the world, not gaining anything back… The amount of hate and fake news he gets thrown at him is insane, being the reason why I always think of him when listening to this song. He has the biggest heart ever, and he pays the price for it every single day of his life. Haechan’s personality is bright and it should shine as much as it needs to, he might look overly confident but I wouldn’t doubt that in fact, he’s totally insecure about himself and about his skills, lost in the world yearning for appreciation. Gilded Lily suits him so much it actually pains me to make this connection anywhere other than my brain.
His hard work isn’t half as repaid as it should be. Some “fans” should be embarrassed to call themselves such when the first thing they do is to attack Hae.
Haven't I given enough, given enough?
Always the fool with the slowest heart
But I know you'll take me with you
We'll live in spaces between walls
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Jaemin - Chemtrails Over The Country Club, Lana Del Rey
I'm on the run with you, my sweet love
There's nothing wrong contemplating God
Under the chemtrails over the country club
In another life, I believe that Jaemin could’ve been living peacefully in a suburb, white picket fences and all. This song is filled with nostalgia and the wish to run away with your loved one, which painfully reminds me of Jaemin. He’s the perfect man, the perfect gentleman even, so that’d make his partner want to elope with him. However, this image of him resides only in my (and now, your) imagination — that’s why I chose this song for him. Whenever I take in anything that Jaemin does, I can help but think about how I’d feel in his shoes: he had the plan to become a doctor, did charity work, played the piano, got good grades and was handsome. Having such high standards and some fondness towards the academic way of life, would I be 100% satisfied living an idol life? The answer is no, ergo my need to choose this song for him. If my hunch about Jaem is correct, he’d be yearning for the possibilities of having another life, especially when it comes to love. From what he has shown us, he wouldn’t be the type to voluntarily want to hide his loved one — I feel like he’d want to boast to the world about them.
I interpret this song as a life the singer would like to have had with their loved one, but couldn’t since the opportunity passed, and is now cursed to live forever with their “what ifs”.
My love, my love
Washing my hair, doing the laundry
Late night TV, I want you on me
Like when we were kids
Under chemtrails and country clubs
It's never too late, baby, so don't give up
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Chenle - loml, Taylor Swift
If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary
You and I go from one kiss to gettin’ married
Still alive killing time at the cemetery
Never quite buried
In your suit and tie, in the nick of time
You lowdown boy, you standup guy
You Holy Ghost, you told me I'm
The love of your life
I apologize in advance to all you Chenle stans out there for bringing this up, but… IT NEEDS TO BE SAID. He fits this song so much it’s actually insane. He doesn’t have many regrets in his life (as said by the man himself), so in a world in which he’d yearn, it’d definitely be because of love, hence why his song is loml. Chenle wouldn’t be able to get over his first love, leading to countless daydreaming sessions and longing sighs. He’d reminisce about his time with the person, over analyzing everything that was said and done, remembering even the smallest things the other person said he didn’t care about. Losing something makes you realize what that thing really meant, thus creating the eternal heartache of knowing that you took it for granted — despite all the fights and wrong-doings, Chenle would never be able to forgive himself for losing the person he loved.
His first love would stay with him forever, but as time goes by, they’d be only a soft memory instead of a lingering sadness.
Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire
Your arson's match, your somber eyes
And I'll still see it until I die
You're the loss of my life
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Jisung - Brother, Kodaline
If I was dying on my knees
You would be the one to rescue me
And if you were drowned at sea I
'd give you my lungs so you could breathe
If there’s one quality I’d use to describe Jisung, It’d be loyalty. He’s extremely loyal towards his hyungs, and that’s why I chose this song for him. Once the dreamies weren’t a fixed unit, Jisung shared his fear of being alone, and without his older brothers by his side, he knew not of what the future had in store for him. Hence why the lyrics (this one in particular: When we were young, we were the ones // The kings and queens, oh yeah we ruled the world) and just the “desperate” vibes of the song scream Park Jisung. He loves the dreamies so much that losing them would be as devastating as losing one of his family members. We don’t get to see the clingy and soft side of Jisung as much as the boys do, but just because we as fans don’t experience it, doesn’t mean that they can’t feel it. 
There’s just not much to say besides that he loves his members to the point of sacrificing himself for them.
I’ve got you brother
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The whole group - Home, Edith Whiskers ver.
We laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night
Nothing new is sweeter than with you
I couldn’t do something like this without mentioning the dark period of when Mark was removed from the unit (sorry in advance <3), so here it is! Home would be their song from when they missed Mark, and kept reminiscing about their debut and previous comeback when their leader and older brother was still there with them. The song might come from a romantic point of view, but it’s just as fitting for a friend group, therefore making it perfect to describe the dreamie’s situation.
Losing someone important is awful, especially when that person is “removed” from your day-to-day life thanks to other people’s choices — it isn’t fair, and I’m sure the boys felt this way for a long period of time until they could shine again with Mark by their side. They’ve never been better and nct dream is now on the way to become even more powerful than before, and for that I’m incredibly proud of the children they were, who maintained themselves strong and brave throughout a heartbreaking moment. The dreamies deserve the best and my heart is at ease to see that their recognition is finally arriving. They are my home, and I’m sure they are your home as well :)
Oh, home, let me come home
Home is wherever I'm with you
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kalifornia1025 · 2 months
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The Lion's Mane Pt. 3 (SPOILERS)
Final part notes are here, let’s get to it!
Maude joined Sherlock for rock pooling! 
Sherlock: “She’s rock pooling with me”, aw she certainly is buddy!
Same Mariana, I too would be pointing out all the sea creatures I see 
Maude: “Living in solitude with one another. Dumped in here by the big sea that left them behind”, John: “Uh…it can be difficult to share a flat with somebody” THE WATER-BASED ANALOGIES STRIKE ONCE AGAIN!!
It’s interesting how complex of a situation Maude has put herself in! Her family has secrets that she knows she needs to keep hidden, but she really just wants to figure out how her fiancé died 
The tooth! Sherlock found Harry’s missing tooth (completely normal thing to whip out in a pub Sherlock, SUPER normal)
Balsanna, or ‘death in the soul’ is a really cool phrase to describe the weight an indirect death can have on someone’s mind and soul; you may not have meant for them to die, but you still feel guilty for indirectly killing them
Sherlock: *referring to the listeners* “You are not a priority”, John: *to listeners* “Isn’t he lovely?”, yeah John like a rose with thorns; prickly but lovely
Sherlock’s still on about that submersible, and John is still full on nope-ing on that plan
Aw poor John, why doesn’t anyone wanna hold his hand??
Wow, the Bellamy’s big company secret is revealed! Using growth enhancement chemicals and claiming they’re organic is some shady shit indeed
Bringing in Balsanna is a perfect way to describe this whole situation: the Bellamy family company didn’t directly kill anyone, but their actions still resulted in those deaths
Neat callback to how John is still dealing with that Urea Nitrate fertilizer in his leg!
Sherlock got his submersible!! Poor Mariana is stressing so hard about that fee being paid. Hilarious that Sherlock was so disappointed about not being able to pilot it
The big moment I’ve been waiting for…the reveal…of the LION’S MANE JELLYFISH! Honestly, I think the they did the reveal justice. I felt like I was in the submersible seeing the beautiful scene as well! 
…wow, poor Fitzy. Good on you John for bringing him back home
Aww, now John and Mariana are having their own little moment on the train! And once again John makes fun of Mariana being a Harry Potter nerd (as he should)
Honestly this was a great case! We had the whole gang working together, they got to travel to a small island in Scotland, and there were so many layers to the case that I was intrigued by! I think the podcast itself is getting a lot better about immersive story telling. I’m not gonna say it’s the BEST case (as I imagine there are many more to come) but it was interesting all the way through. I can't wait so hear what they’ll do next…
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fave-fight · 1 year
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ROUND 1, MATCH 26
NO MAGIC, POWERS, OR WEAPONS
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Dr. Coomer:
“i… don’t think he would win.”
“HELLO, GORDON!”
Floyd Leech:
“If he stays in human form and has no mage stones, he's just Some Guy, so he still qualifies. This mafia motherfucker would FIGHT. One time when faced with a monster, everyone else was like "oh no, we need magic" and he was like "nah, let's punch it" and then he DID. He hasn't used his pointy teeth in canon yet, but he could in theory bite someone if necessary, and it would hurt like a bitch. He'd fight dirty, I just know it. Let him punch everything and then get punched in the face, it'd be so great.”
“This guy is a menace who almost never uses weapons or tools to terrorize people. He's strong and athletic, smart enough to get what he wants on a whim, and squeezes contract-breakers until they faint on a regular basis.”
“NOTE: Floyd is a magic boy, but the “no mage stone” thing is there because it means he won’t be able to use magic, because people in Twisted Wonderland can’t without accumulating deadly magic toxin unless they have the stones. He’s also a merman, but he’d be in his human form. His human form does have pointy teeth (like the anime character kind) but I’m not sure if they have any real effect in game other than to intimidate people. Other people in this game have them too who are allegedly “human.” And again, plenty of “human” anime characters have them. Myfeeling is that they shouldn’t be disqualifying on their own.  This game is about magic boys at a magic school, but don’t worry, they get into traditional fist-fights so often it’s literally a randomly generated event that can happen in your Guest Room space. And Floyd Leech would never use magic in a fist-fight. He’d think that was “no fun” or “totally lame.” His signature magical spell just nullifies other people’s magic that targets him… so he can fight them with his fists. Since no one else here has magic, it’s totally irrelevant.  Also I’m not sure he uses fists so much as he does something to his opponents that he describes as “squeezing” them. I don’t know entirely what he means by that when he’s in his human form, but how much it scares the faceless NPC students indicates to me that he’s found a way to make it work. I do know it’s supposed to have a whole mafia vibe to it. Because his dad (and his childhood friend he lowkey sort-of works for) have real mafia boss energy. And Floyd’s basically decided that if he’s going to do this mafia shtick it’s Capo or bust. Floyd doesn’t always feel like doing stuff, due to his wildly unpredictable mood swings, but it honestly seems like the thing he can most easily be convinced to do is beat the shit out of people. During the “Beanfest” event (which was somewhat analogous to a paintball match), he insisted on throwing his weapon away and beating up aforementioned childhood friend even though the game was over and he’d already lost, just because apparently “once Floyd has decided to fight nothing can be done about it" and you just have to fight him if you want to get on with the rest of your day. He’d started out that event “not really in the mood” but somehow ended up spending the entire day beating the hell out of every person he ran into. In the camping event, when all of the boys were being picked off by a monster in the woods one at a time and were panicking because they didn’t have magestones or cellphones and therefore couldn’t defend themselves with magic or call an adult for help, Floyd was literally just like “why don’t we just beat the shit out of it?” And then he DID. And it was awesome.  But before you think he’s just some sort of dumb thug, let me assure you that Floyd is actually one of Night Raven’s most intelligent students. He has a photographic memory and can create valuable gems in alchemy class with minimal effort. Unfortunately, his mood swings make it impossible for him to maintain a decent GPA. But he’s actually a smart, tactical fighter. He’s just violent and unstable. Oh and if you’re wondering, his personality is generally abrasive and confrontational. He regularly starts arguments with the most volatile people at the school, just to mess with them and see where it goes because he’s bored.  Finally, if it sweetens the deal for anyone, Floyd would wear some killer designer shoes to this fight. Don’t worry, they wouldn’t be dangerous/weaponized. They’d just be expensive and custom made. You know, so he can get upset when someone scuffs them up.  Like for real, is there anyone who deserves to be in a crazy bitch fist-fight more than a moody mafia prince who’s secretly some sort of genius, but seems to only truly love fighting and designer footwear? If there is, I can’t think of them. ”
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obsessivevoidkitten · 5 months
Note
Ok so another one. Not a fanfic but I am just genuinely curious about Synthis. Because HOLY FUCK YOU CAN'T JUST DROP A BANGER CONCEPT AND EXPECT US(me) TO JUST BE SATISFIED WITH BEING RAILED, WORSHIPPED, AND RAVAGED BY A HOT 7ft TALL BEEFY BULL MAN (I am beyond satisfied but still...)
A company that sells their actual employees, regardless if they're hired for actual work or just to be sold, is kinda a really [insert word that would describe what I am feeling rn because there are too many] concept. Like... you probably just did it to give Arrin a way to be able to get his darling mate when they live in another planet and no other reason but you kinda dropped a really cool concept.
A company sells their employees (even if they have family or friends or people that care for them deeply) to random people and still manage to keep their facade as this Disney-like or Amazon-like company that just happens to have many branches (I'm trying and failing to make an analogy-thingy here). That could get very dark very quickly. Get-A-Darling®. Come get your submissive and breedable darlings here. We offer a wide variety of cute darlings. We got sleek and slender, muscular and tall, and chubby and squish-- oh the chief already got the squishy one... Anyway, we at Synthis believe in inclusivity and giving our customers full satisfaction, of course. We might even give you their (worn) underwear to see/sniff/smell if they'd be a great fit before you get them~
Ok, I'm getting off topic. What I am saying is that a company manages to keep their image as this respectable as respectable as a corporation that owns everything I guess... corporation even while they sell their employees to various individuals with various intents. Like, darling might be one of the very lucky ones. Sold to a soft Yandere who just wants someone soft, squishy, chubby, sexy, and cuddly to love, worship, breed, and adore. What if someone got sold to a Yandere Asshole or a regular slimy asshole? Or just sold to plain old slavery? Or shitty warehouse job with abusive management? Or for their organs?
What if they're doing double duty as the Syndicate from the Strom (Yandere Assassin/Bounty Hunter) one shot?
You dropped this really cool concept about a company that dabbles in human trafficking in order to cater to people who we may call “human fuckers” (they're freaky and horni and squishy and cuddly) and I just wanna say that I think that's fucking great and awesome
Also...
Do you think Synthis gave out their (to be sold) employees' worn underwear to the people that were going to buy them?
No they don't sell people with loving friends and family! That would make it harder to operate.
Mostly sell only to very specific clients.
I do like the used undies sampler pack idea to help them pick a person.
Organs can be grown and sold cheaply (synthis synthetics organs department) so no worry of reader sold for organs.
Possible for slavery, but the robots of the future are stronger, more willing, and overall cheaper since there's no med cost or food or sleep or even a habitat required. So it just isn't practical.
Most customers are looking for something to love them or slide their dick in.
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noyasaur · 7 months
Note
when we sleep,are we in the void? i know that we are never fully attached to our body. and i also know that our subconsciousness is so powerful that it takes care of all versions of us in all realities and our bodies as well. so does that mean all versions of us(as in physical form) are equally connected to our subconsciousness and that's why we easily shift whether or not we are aware of it? uh i hope my questions make sense but this is the conclusion i came to but i wanted to ask someone as well
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₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
hihi anon! ugh you brought up such an interesting topic and i'm so excited to provide my view on this and i hope this won't be confusing to read or anything :)
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🪐 THE SUBCONSCIOUS, OUR AWARENESS, OUR DR-SELVES, AND REALITY SHIFTING.
yes, you are correct. it's common knowledge that when we sleep, we are in the void. that when we sleep, we return to our most purest, and freest form as pure consciousness awareness just existing in the void, and most of the time, we're just not aware of it.
what you say about our subconscious being so powerful that it takes care of all versions of us in each reality along with our bodies, is super interesting! and honestly, does make sense within the context of what you were saying.
personally, i feel like my theory on this is a little different.
i believe that each of our dr-selves each have their own conscious mind, and subconscious mind because they are each their own, separate, person. that all realities that exist within each person's own perception of reality, are all existing at the same time.
i don't view it as each reality being separate bubbles in one big bubble, but rather, i view each reality kind of happening at the same time as if each reality was stacked on top of each other like pages in a book. but then everything is all mushed together, fusing into one big 'page' as everything is happening all at once, despite you perceiving only one reality- if that even makes sense lol.
or there's the analogy to describe different realities of millions of bubbles within a bathtub. or even going back to the analogy of all realities existing as 'bubble's or 'universes' within one major bubble of 'consciousness' that connects us all.
overall, we have the power to choose what reality to perceive and become aware of. that, we switch what awareness we decide to tune into and experience. because if we were to 'shift' our subconscious, or conscious mind, how would ourselves in this reality be able to function as normal?
but to me, what is that 'something' that connects all our dr-selves together? this has something i've thought long and hard on. our consciousness that connects us to our different selves? our subconscious, like you said?
our subconscious is truly so powerful as you mentioned, and while each of our different dr-selves have a different conscious and subconscious mind with different beliefs, those could be little bubbles or individual packets of our subconscious beliefs and processes of each of our different dr-selves within this big bubble of subconscious that holds and connects all of our selves in different realities.
we are able to shift easily because quite literally, 'everything' is happening 'everywhere' and 'all at once' (movie reference hehe). and if our subconscious connects every single one of our selves in each different reality together, it makes sense as to how and why we can shift easily and even access our other selves. our other selves are separate beings but at the same time, are products of our subconscious/awareness because how else are we supposed to be connected to them if they are external entities?
a 'something' has to connect everything together if we can even access our other realities. this is why i also believe in a mix of the multiverse and consciousness theories.
every one of ourselves in each reality is happening all at once, and since we're all connected (perhaps by the subconscious, like you said) it is easy for us to change our perception and choose what reality to tune into and 'become aware of.'
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anyways, this is just my take on this and one of my many theories on reality shifting :p
and i'm sorry if this wasn't the type of answer you're looking for! when it comes to things like these, i don't like definitively saying something is the 'right' or 'wrong' answer because i know reality shifting is subjective and we don't exactly know how it works! so technically, anyone's theories could be right.
i also know that people's answers and opinions on this are going to be different depending on what they believe, and that's completely okay!
personally, another belief of mine is that all beliefs are 'true'. because according to the law of assumption, whatever you dominantly assume or believe, is your reality. i believe that whatever one person believes, is true for them in their reality, but can be different in my reality.
this is also why i believe all religions can be true too, despite not following a religion myself. and also why i believe that whatever you believe will happen after death, will happen to you. even if one person has a wildly different view and take on it compared to the person next to them, whatever each person believes will still happen to them because that's what they believe and assume!
i think the conclusion you came to is a very plausible and valid theory and it does make sense to me :) and i also hope i made sense! my explanation of my theory is probably all over the place and i'll probably make a separate post on this some time.
thank you for sharing your view on this and good luck on your journey!
- saturn ♡
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drbased · 4 months
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please teach us The Ways (re: ppl judging)
So the first thing to recognise is that you're at the centre of your own life experiences. You're the one who feels the feelings, thinks the thoughts, does the actions, experiences the experiences, etc. etc. So for every single belief you have, every single attitude and value you maintain as part of your selfhood, you 'should' (I put this in air quotes for reasons that will soon become apparent) have this fact at the center of how you process the world. As well as the fact that you are you, and only you, you are also the only person you have to live with and know intimately for the entirety of your life - so being kind to yourself and loving yourself is what I consider to be the most pure form of logic there is. Since you're at the core of your life experiences and always will be, that means there's a necessity in treating yourself with the care you'd expect to be required of such a situation. So when I say you 'should' do these things, I'm not saying that it's a requirement of you by some nebulous force (I don't know if you're religious anon but I have found that developing an atheistic worldview has really helped me with this), but rather that if you want to have the kind of self-confidence and inner peace required to really face life head-on, reframing your life experiences with you as the focus of your own attention, love and support is frankly the only way to achieve this robustly. Remember: this is not something you're waiting to happen, but rather an active choice you make to love yourself and to show love to yourself, just as you would other people. When you really internalise this fully, a lot of things start to slot in place naturally, as if you've unscrambled a jigsaw and now you can see the complete picture of yourself. True acceptance is hard to describe, but I think the best analogy is that of focusing your eyes - you don't know how you did it, but once you've put some fullness of effort in, it's automatically happened. Also you can slip out of acceptance at any time - this is a lifelong process, after all. And it's beautiful that it's a lifelong process! Love is a lifelong process! We don't go, aw no, I have to kiss my partner every day and tell them I love them - so the same attitude can be applied to your own selfhood.
What I like about this attitude is that there's a very solid, complete sense of logic to it - every breakdown I've ever had since, every terror I've had due to my depression, relationship with obligation, hyperchondria, drug-induced paranoia etc. etc. has ultimately hit this wall of 'oh right, I'm going to be me for the rest of my life and I'm always going to be the one experiencing my feelings, and I like having good feelings, and I can do that for myself so I'm going to do it. I don't need any justification from some external force to allow myself happiness, joy, peace and comfort - I deserve it simply because I am me and experiencing those things is good'. If you want a secondary argument to bolster it, I've found that waiting to be in the right place before I'm Allowed to do things is incredibly fragile and unsustainable and has made me kind of a worse person overall. Now with my full acceptance of my own selfhood I can be much more genuine in my decision-making and ultimately generate a sense of robust meaning from my own choices in life. It's still ultimately Not The Point, because the point should be always that I necessarily don't exist for any purpose other than myself, but sometimes I like having that secondary argument for comfort's sake, because whilst I want to do the right thing for everyone in every situation, that mentality is what caused me to have literal burnout. Now instead, my focus is on myself - my fundamental values haven't necessarily changed, I still care about everything I did before, but I refuse to martyr myself anymore.
The thing is, when you think about it, if there was One True Way to approach everything, if there was One Official Judgment of the world, then we should frankly all give up on individuality right now and just turn into the borg. But life isn't that way, so you can learn to recognise that as an individual (who, by the way, didn't ask to be born), it's your prerogative to exercise your individual personhood - and that's necessarily going to clash with the individual personhood of others. That's the whole point of being, like, a person. That's the reason you have a separate brain, a unique perspective. Your mind is your own playground, free from the chain of cause and effect, where you get to consider all sorts of wacky ideas. I used to think of my mind as form of prison, but I came to understand that the fact that we have a mind at all and aren't simply a slave to basic biological process is, to put it in a corny way, an extraordinary gift. (And why do I say it's a gift? Because I'm at the center of my own experiences and I value being kind to myself, so I make a choice to see it as a gift rather than a curse, because regardless of which is the more 'logical' choice the ultimate logic is to be kind to myself, because I'm at the center of my own world and I don't have to sacrifice any sort of comfort for some abstract sense of the greater good - and besides, doing so would achieve nothing, anyway! That's the process in action right there.)
So the first element is to shift your perspective to have you as the focus of your attention, the second is to recognise that it's your prerogative as an individual human to exercise your unique judgment, (that's what all those 'confident' people are doing, btw!) and the third part is to take these principles into learning who you really are what you really value. Once you learn true, judgment-less acceptance of you (maybe I do only ever want to eat cereal for my evening meal for the rest of my life! maybe I do only want to wear red t-shirts! maybe I do want to have a room in my house dedicated to pictures of frogs!) you get to learn who you are. This, just like the rest of it, is an ongoing process. And remember, this is about getting to know yourself! It's joyful, it's beautiful! You're finally taking yourself seriously - instead of pathologising yourself you're getting to recognise your fundamental right as an individual. Now, but those actions have consequences, right? But that's where getting to know your value system comes in. Once you've truly accepting things about yourself, you can use the power of imagination to picture yourself actually living that life - or, hell, maybe you can just start doing it. Maybe the life you've imagined for yourself turns out to have been much more about a narrative construction or categorisation of yourself - but that's fine, because now you've learned something else about yourself! And then you can change your mind! You can decide that you want to live in a different way! Ever since I developed this system, I am in a constant state of negotiating with myself: oh, if I do this thing, people will think of me as weird -> do I care if they think it's weird? -> oh, I do care a bit, why is that? -> oh, because I dislike the social consequences of that -> which do I care more about, me being 'authentic' 24/7 or me not weirding people out? -> oh, I care a bit more about not weirding people out -> then I guess I won't do the weird thing, then! -> oh, but I wouldn't like to go my whole life without doing it -> maybe I can do it sometimes, depending on the people I'm around -> Oh, I've just now made a full, complete decision on how to conduct myself based on my own personal value system!
Notice how none of this so far has been about other people? I've not had to say once anything about how to practice confidence, to fake it till you make it, or any other corny cliche. Because any attempt to do so would be deeply ironic - in order to not care about what other people think of you, you have to recognise your own prerogative as an individual to do whatever the hell you want. And only from there can you make decisions that are 'judgment-free' in the sense that the judgment doesn't feel like it comes from some terrifying nebulous force, but rather from your own internal value system. And some of those values will conflict, and that's fine! Because if the core premise is always self-love and self-centering, you will find a way to bring that into every decision. And that is what confidence is. Turns out it's not something that other people 'just have', and instead I can achieve it myself - something that younger me did not believe at all.
Another point I'd like to make here is that once you learn this kind of deep empathy for your own selfhood, it sort of naturally starts to dissipate outwards. Opinionated people can be irritating but you don't feel as threatened by them because you've stopped percieving them as some conduit for some nebulous greater truth, and rather as a whole separate human being who has a prerogative to their own weird-ass opinions, just like you. I've described this as your fear of yourself becoming somewhat higher because you learn that you're not just a series of disparate impulses but rather a complete entity with a point of view, but your fear of everything else decreases massively so there's much more of a level playing field between you and everything/everyone else. What's that quote that's like 'they're looking at me, but I'm looking right back at them'. And like, they might be looking at me, but fortunately I'm not privy to any feelings of disgust they might have looking at me, but I am privy to the feelings that I have when looking at them, so the latter is naturally my priority. It's a fucking blessing that I can't feel what everyone else feels! This is my life, my reality, my senses, my world, my opinions, my everything. And that doesn't make me a hardened psychopath, but rather the opposite - I'm free from fear of judgment so I can make much more genuine decisions.
And it builds over time, I can promise you - I sat at a comedy thing literally just this week and I was at the front row where the very aggressive comedian was bantering with me and I bantered right back! Seriously, if that had happened years ago I would have run away crying. But he's just some guy, and I'm just some guy, and now with my strong sense of self I'm not caught off guard when people talk to me. I know who I am, I know what I care about, and what I value. And the irony of life means that if there actually was some external judgment that I should care about, I'm doing a much better job to appease it now than I ever did.
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altraviolet · 3 months
Text
ramblies about TEG & literary construction
I'm reading a book ("The Writer's Journey" by Christopher Vogler) which describes classic story arcs, character archetypes, The Hero's Journey, etc and mentally comparing it all to TEG. This is to try to apply/remember what I'm reading, but also to see "how I've done" compared to what is being presented as the boiled down expression of all of human storytelling.
TEG doesn't closely follow published conventions because of what it is, but I am able to match certain aspects to archetypes and stages of The Hero's Journey. I'm not totally ignorant of these things - I've read about them before - but I didn't write TEG itself with much of the Literary Construction firmly in mind. The redemption arc and the final climax (wherein Soundwave is offered what he wanted most at the beginning of the fic, but rejects it due to his character growth) were definitely, consciously utilized using the language of literary construction. But beyond that, I mostly worked by feel, logic, and what the story needed.
All that to say: if any Literary majors ever feel like evaluating TEG at this level, I'd be so interested to see that done from their knowledgeable viewpoints. Did Soundwave have a mentor figure?? I'm not entirely sure. Megatron, maybe? Brainstorm, in the "gift-giving" capacity? Which archetype does Rodimus fall under? Ally? I'm not sure the story falls under the 3 Act structure (or any conventional Act structure) because the points of tension, rising and falling, and growth, meander a bit to the point of (purposeful, on my part) regression, then move forward. The fact that "Return with the Elixir" is the last stage, and manifests pretty literally in the fic, amuses me, though xD
It might seem strange that I wrote a story and I don't know what its Act structure is or who the Shapeshifter figure might be, but I think I can explain it: I don't need to know the exact way bread was made in order to follow a recipe for French Toast. I know I have bread. I might not know anything about bread. But I can do something to it to make it into what I want. Weird analogy? Probably. French Toast is so good. I'm not even hungry. Okay, focusing now: I do read books about writing somewhat regularly. My problem is retaining the information. I think too many of my brain cells are permanently stuck holding memes and robot facts and I just can't get anything else to stick.
anyway, idk, I just felt like telling this to the void :)
As for the book itself: it's definitely written by an older person who is male. Young people today might be thrown out of a smooth reading experience by some of the language (nothing horribly offensive, but we have conventions now that feel more modern) and the references (old, old movies and TV shows) but I think there is still important info you can get from it.
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jessicalprice · 2 years
Text
undiscovered country
(reposted from Twitter)
When I have the emotional bandwidth to look at Christians and ex-Christians flailing at Jews and Jewish stuff rather than just wishing they’d tend to their own process and practice and leave us alone, the thing I want most for them is to learn to encounter cultures and traditions and practices that are different from theirs without immediately trying to force them into an analogy or paradigm with something that’s familiar to them.
Sometimes I wonder if there’s even any actual spirituality in authoritarian Christianity, because the one thing I understand about engagement with the sacred is that it’s a way to cultivate awe and learn to face mystery without rushing to reduce it to something comprehensible.
And that matters in every area of life. It matters for loving people. Every other person you encounter will always in some ways be a mystery, and if you can only love what you fully understand about them, you love a reflection of yourself, not them.
It matters for learning—ESPECIALLY in science. If you rush to force what you’re seeing into a paradigm you’re familiar with, you often end up with either incomplete data or bad interpretations of data.
It matters for engaging with cultures you’re not part of. If you’re not willing to stop demanding that they immediately make sense to you, you end up misapprehending them and, often, disbelieving people about their own worldview and experiences.
I remember the first time a massage therapist worked on my psoas muscle.
I immediately tensed up and literally started involuntarily crawling across the massage table away from her.
She asked me, “I want you to take a moment and think about whether this actually hurts or whether it’s just an intense, strange sensation and you expect pain.”
It’s hard, when it feels like someone’s touching an internal organ or something to relax, back up, and just be receptive and feel rather than trying to categorize and react. But she was right. It didn’t hurt, I didn’t need her to reduce the pressure. It was just new.
It’s really, really okay—I promise, you can take the time and space!—to encounter something in another culture and just absorb without immediately trying to understand. I don’t know that I can explain how to get there beyond, just let go for a minute and be.
Like when you taste something new, you don’t immediately have to categorize, oh, this tastes like chicken! You can just sit there for a moment and let it be new. If you don’t, I don’t think you’ll actually fully taste it.
When I have a sensation experience like that and I can just sit and absorb for a bit, I feel like I can feel parts of my brain that didn’t talk before connecting. If it’s something like a wine tasting where I'm supposed to describe and compare immediately, I don’t sense that.
And I just wish people deconstructing Christianity, who often seem really prone to demanding Christian paradigms for everything, would try that. You can do it with people things as well as sensation things.
I think sometimes that you can’t really perceive other people, both on an individual level and on a cultural/societal one, if you expect to fully understand them. You definitely can't have an I-Thou encounter with them, in the Buber sense, or be face-to-face, in the Levinas sense. Understanding usually grows, but it has to have space to do so.
It’s not easy, of course, and it’s not something any of us can do all the time. There are important reasons our brains look for patterns and analogies and categories.
We can't constantly be in an I-Thou relationship with the Other and we don’t need to. But I dunno, I think it’s important to learn to
oscillate, maybe?
just let go sometimes and perceive absorptively rather than categorizingly?
There’s that infinitesimal moment before you put a concept or understanding into words and you can learn to extend it and not make what you’re encountering into something. Just MEET it, you know? And this is sort of like that. It’s how you actually listen to another.
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91vaults · 1 year
Text
Self Diagnosis for Autism is totally valid
Diagnosis is ultimately an imperfect set of parameters we use to determine treatment. It's not a big gold stamp of approval that says "the way you experience the world and your struggles is valid and not a moral failing" but unfortunately society treats it like one and I totally understand people for whom an official diagnosis was the thing that brought it all together and gave them that understanding and validation they never got their whole lives (diagnosis as a barrier to support and treatment is another topic).
I was diagnosed as kid. I have a twin brother who has always been a bit of "quirky" guy, it never even occurred to me (or anyone else) until it suddenly did. Honestly I reckon a lot of people would be like "oh yeah...that checks out". I once asked him on the phone "You know, have you ever considered you might be on the spectrum?" his answer?
"I really don't care. It would mean absolutely nothing to me if I went and got a diagnosis"
But he often refers to himself as "a bit autistic". To him I don't think it's an identity thing, rather he explained it as a useful shorthand to describe himself, more so to other people, where he fears he comes off as perhaps a little emotionally distant or cold, and a bit awkward, among other quirks.
As for me, who does have the golden stamp of validity (which is hilarious given girls rarely ever got diagnosed back then) I don't really identify with it as an identity. I don't really tell people cause I don't see the need. I don't consider myself as part of the Autistic community (for a multitude of reasons) and I never have and don't refer to myself as Autistic. rather I say "I have ASD" because that clinical label and the distance it implies feels most true to my experience. Especially now when many people are reclaiming the label as an identity.
I know self diagnosis can be controversial and I have a lot of....thoughts about neurodivergent tik tok. But if someone feels it is true to their experience and they find comfort and community in it...If it's something they find helpful to understand themselves and in turn help other people understand them. Then why not? to use a clumsy analogy it's a bit like how physical and biological characteristics are relevant in some contexts when it comes to gender...but gender is so much more than that, its not just about chromosomes or whats in your pants its about how you experience and move through the world, how the world responds to you and how you understand yourself and relate to others. Medical definitions aren't everything.
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book--wyrm · 1 month
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fell down the book of bill rabbithole and immediately became obsessed with euclidia, so here's me throwing out my own theory about bill's backstory:
I don't think bill's parents were red and blue triangles
at least, not while they were alive.
one of bill's listed phobias is 3d glasses. idk about you, but when i think of 3d glasses, i think of these.
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and it feels like there must be something to that, right? you use these red and blue glasses to turn a 2d screen into a 3d effect. Maybe this was how he tried to show his people the third dimension.
The problem, of course, is that in order for these glasses to work, you have to turn this:
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into this
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The same picture, layered over itself.
One red.
One blue.
It's also worth noting, I think, that there's a lot of details that suggest euclidia was in some ways similar to an analog tv (the glitching effect you see on all computer entries related to bill's life in euclidia, the way it's described like an old school side scrolling video game)
the way early color TVs worked was, they would display three images at once. one red, one green, one blue, and the combination of those three images would create a full color image. so for bill to achieve the red and blue anaglyphic effect...
imagine someone deletes every neutron in your body, and then displaces all your electrons about three inches to the right.
last piece of evidence, and note that i think this one is more symbolic than literal.
on the pages where bill talks about what happened to euclidia, there are some background images, that, to me at least—
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—look an awful lot like prisms.
We all know what prisms do to light, right?
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:/
tl;dr i think bill's parents weren't necessarily red and blue. I think they just looked like that after he decomposed them (and presumably everything else) into their constituent colors.
EDIT:
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?????? HELLO????
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fave-fight · 1 year
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ROUND 2, MATCH 44
NO MAGIC, POWERS, WEAPONS, OR ADDITIONAL HELP FROM OTHERS
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Isabelle:
“She's in Smash, also she's best friends with Doom Guy”
“She's probably got some pent up rage about being stuck with mayor duties, especially when the player neglects the games. She's cute and this tournament need more women. I'm so happy someone else thought about her, too.”
“If she can hold her own in Smash she can hold her own here. She deserves the chance let loose too. Let her wreck some people!”
Floyd Leech:
“If he stays in human form and has no mage stones, he's just Some Guy, so he still qualifies. This mafia motherfucker would FIGHT. One time when faced with a monster, everyone else was like "oh no, we need magic" and he was like "nah, let's punch it" and then he DID. He hasn't used his pointy teeth in canon yet, but he could in theory bite someone if necessary, and it would hurt like a bitch. He'd fight dirty, I just know it. Let him punch everything and then get punched in the face, it'd be so great.”
“This guy is a menace who almost never uses weapons or tools to terrorize people. He's strong and athletic, smart enough to get what he wants on a whim, and squeezes contract-breakers until they faint on a regular basis.”
“NOTE: Floyd is a magic boy, but the “no mage stone” thing is there because it means he won’t be able to use magic, because people in Twisted Wonderland can’t without accumulating deadly magic toxin unless they have the stones. He’s also a merman, but he’d be in his human form. His human form does have pointy teeth (like the anime character kind) but I’m not sure if they have any real effect in game other than to intimidate people. Other people in this game have them too who are allegedly “human.” And again, plenty of “human” anime characters have them. Myfeeling is that they shouldn’t be disqualifying on their own.  This game is about magic boys at a magic school, but don’t worry, they get into traditional fist-fights so often it’s literally a randomly generated event that can happen in your Guest Room space. And Floyd Leech would never use magic in a fist-fight. He’d think that was “no fun” or “totally lame.” His signature magical spell just nullifies other people’s magic that targets him… so he can fight them with his fists. Since no one else here has magic, it’s totally irrelevant.  Also I’m not sure he uses fists so much as he does something to his opponents that he describes as “squeezing” them. I don’t know entirely what he means by that when he’s in his human form, but how much it scares the faceless NPC students indicates to me that he’s found a way to make it work. I do know it’s supposed to have a whole mafia vibe to it. Because his dad (and his childhood friend he lowkey sort-of works for) have real mafia boss energy. And Floyd’s basically decided that if he’s going to do this mafia shtick it’s Capo or bust. Floyd doesn’t always feel like doing stuff, due to his wildly unpredictable mood swings, but it honestly seems like the thing he can most easily be convinced to do is beat the shit out of people. During the “Beanfest” event (which was somewhat analogous to a paintball match), he insisted on throwing his weapon away and beating up aforementioned childhood friend even though the game was over and he’d already lost, just because apparently “once Floyd has decided to fight nothing can be done about it" and you just have to fight him if you want to get on with the rest of your day. He’d started out that event “not really in the mood” but somehow ended up spending the entire day beating the hell out of every person he ran into. In the camping event, when all of the boys were being picked off by a monster in the woods one at a time and were panicking because they didn’t have magestones or cellphones and therefore couldn’t defend themselves with magic or call an adult for help, Floyd was literally just like “why don’t we just beat the shit out of it?” And then he DID. And it was awesome.  But before you think he’s just some sort of dumb thug, let me assure you that Floyd is actually one of Night Raven’s most intelligent students. He has a photographic memory and can create valuable gems in alchemy class with minimal effort. Unfortunately, his mood swings make it impossible for him to maintain a decent GPA. But he’s actually a smart, tactical fighter. He’s just violent and unstable. Oh and if you’re wondering, his personality is generally abrasive and confrontational. He regularly starts arguments with the most volatile people at the school, just to mess with them and see where it goes because he’s bored.  Finally, if it sweetens the deal for anyone, Floyd would wear some killer designer shoes to this fight. Don’t worry, they wouldn’t be dangerous/weaponized. They’d just be expensive and custom made. You know, so he can get upset when someone scuffs them up.  Like for real, is there anyone who deserves to be in a crazy bitch fist-fight more than a moody mafia prince who’s secretly some sort of genius, but seems to only truly love fighting and designer footwear? If there is, I can’t think of them. ”
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