#i just think john would struggle internally with that concept a lot
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#hosea matthews#arthur morgan#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#i could go into an unhinged rant abt this actuallt i will. fuck u#this started as like a jokey post but like#idk it lead down this whole rabbithole of arthur's emotional maturity#we know john clearly loved hosea but we only ever see arthurs side#and we see how much hoseas mentorship and wit and love influenced arthur#and although he had a similar influence on john and guided his moral compass i think john is much less mature about processing#and understanding his emotions... like he wouldnt have ran away if he had those skills.#and this idea of arthur figuring out that he thinks of dutch and hosea as parents. that its ok to have parental figures#that arent your biological ones and them being there in your life doesnt replace the connection he had with his mother#i just think john would struggle internally with that concept a lot#he wouldnt want to accept that. he is afraid of having a new family.#this boy needs therapy#anyways#my artz#someonewhos smarter than me should write a fic abt that noneed to credit me i just need to see that in the world#if it exists link it to me now i NEED to cry over it
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Okay so, head up, I think your videos are cool and I respect the effort and work you put into theories. I also understand not every theory is going to be actually reflective of views, instead following different roads of logic to see what seems the most likely.
But the big reason why I think robot people being in the games is such a reviled concept by so many people, is that it feels like a lame twist that doesn't really accomplish anything and doesn't really go anywhere. And part of that is the source material it comes from. (Warning: long and emotive analysis incoming)
In the actual Fourth Closet book Charlie being a robot isn't handled well. She's written as a mostly normal human person with internal emotions, struggles, and thoughts only to be completely discarded because she's "not real". As soon as it's revealed, she immediately kills herself and Elizabeth with no narrative buildup, and the only possible resolution is a cliffhanger ending that is never fully explained and left up to speculation. We don't really feel the weight of this on anyone, except possibly John, who never discusses it with anyone and never actually ponders what that might mean beyond feeling bummed the girl he wanted to date is dead and also not human. It also gives Circus Baby a very needlessly convulted backstory for the sole purpose of having her run around in a humanoid form and double down on the henchwoman characterization introduced in FFPS.
It doesn't even really explain much beyond a few strange lines and wonky plot threads, it's a thing that happens and despite Charlie being a protagonist she doesn't really get to react to this.
Sammy is completely dismissed as a concept despite it being such a big deal in TSE and TTO and the whole point of Charlie's arc of acceptance and grief. And we get one line saying he's actually alive... and living with the mother Charlie herself mentions talking to in the past. It's a mess.
The only character who is made more intresting and given more weight by this reveal is Henry. Because it changes perception from "flawed man struggling with mental health but ultimately a very loving to father" to "all the above but also with those flaws much more prevalent and damaging". It's fascinating because what he does is incredibly messed up on so many levels, yet entirely understandable. Henry in the novels is a straight up antagonist, not a villian, and not actively malicious, but someone very poorly coping and causing harm by proxy. And that's reflective of a lot of people who are understandably struggling and need support, but at the same time refuse help and find themselves sinking deeper while their loved ones feel helpless. It's deeply tragic, and leaves Henry being a much more nuanced character, mainly because of the fact Charlie doesn't know quite how to feel about him. When she's still allowed to have thoughts, at least.
The whole point of the Charliebots is that grief and loss can make vulnerable people susceptible to delusion, and how that effects the children around them. Both the Charlie-bot and Circus Baby are shaped around trying to conform to a grieving parent who wants them to fill a role that at a certain point, they simply can't. The moment Charliebot stopped living past the age of three, she simply wasn't reflective of that real little girl anymore. She was someone new, based on the hopes and dreams her family had for her. The Charliebots are so so intricately linked to this theme, that I really feel removing the idea of androids from it is kinda insulting to the whole premise.
William blatantly says he couldn't build robots like that, Circus Baby is build upon a failed experiment her modified for his own use, even the Twisteds were implied to be a joint effort. He also simply didn't see his kids in the same way, I truly don't believe he would drive himself to that same point of delusion for kids he just doesn't love.
I've seen some fanauthors right really compelling narratives around these ideas, but they simply aren't in the actual texts. To approach something purely logistically is to deny to narrative and emotional potential of it.
Yes, it's 100% possible. I don't doubt Scott might try to do it. But that doesn't make it impactful. So if he doesn't want to engage with the premise outright, and doesn't say it outloud, then why should I care either? If he's not going to committ to the idea and explore it, then neither am I.
Glad you generally like my videos! And I understand that perspective, but I disagree. Honestly, I think robot people works great thematically for the modern era.
Ithink part of the interest with Charlie being a robot is that she's a robot, but she IS alive. She's not the original Charlie, but because of Henry's emotions she has her own soul.
With William, his goal iirc wasn't to create a human *looking* robot. His goal was to find a way to create that same spark of life that Henry did, but he wasn't able to. Elizabeth was the closest but she's still an actual human soul inside a robot.
When I suggest that robot people are present in the modern games, I don't think they were made out of love, and I don't think they have that artificial soul that Charlie in the books had, hence the connections to CC and Elizabeth. Heck, we know for a fact that there are robot people present in Tales, so why would that be impossible in the games? The issue wasn't making a human looking robot, it was giving said robots life.
Just because we can't see the end goal at the moment doesn't mean there isn't one. Additionally, assuming Scott isn't going to engage with the premise or saying it out loud is probably something to steer clear of. After all, the main evidence I use for Gregbot isn't the weird vision or him looking like the Crying Child, but the wall code in the Sister Location room that describes Gregory in SB to a T while also saying "I built the breath they hunt drawn to life not real still keen" etc. That seems pretty "out loud" to me given the obscurity of most things in these games tbh.
So I do think Scott has committed to the idea. That's why there are 3 robot people in Tales. That's why there are 2 Vanessas. That's why there's the wall code in SB. To me, it seems as though the themes of Help Wanted and onward are highlighting where the line is drawn between the real and the artificial, the virtual and genuine. And imo, having characters who blur the line between the mechanical world and the real and the spiritual adds pretty well to that whole theme. We just haven't seen everything play out yet since we're only partway through the arc.
I understand if you disagree, but I think writing it off as something to consider would be the wrong move personally. Hope you have a nice day :D
#I am very much a robot person defender lol#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#fnaf security breach#five nights at freddy's security breach#fnaf vanessa#vanessa fnaf#gregbot#gregory fnaf#fnaf gregory#tales from the pizzaplex#william afton#circus baby#elizabeth afton#charlie emily#fnaf crying child#answered asks
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HII !! I’m super fixated on ur half life au and was wondering if you had any more notes on viva ( and / or clay) you could share?? :3
Like dude, same. I’ve been focused on finishing the I’m Still Here book but Half Life is literally always at least in the back of my mind. I think it’s cause it is the closest I have to an original concept within my current writing. Like it wouldn’t be super hard to make it an original concept. But anyways…
Let me start with I’m always open to suggestions and ideas - this is an open ongoing concept in general. It’s not a specific story, but more snippets/slices of life. Beyond Breathe Again, it’s mostly just scenes and smaller bitty arcs.
I don’t know if I really have more - I’m open to questions but I can try to expand on the concepts I do have. And I tried to think about Viva a bit during work. I needed my horse kid rep and Clay needed some love. So here we are with some horse kids. I'll try to stick with a bit more Viva.
Peppy and his wife were divorced and had been for a long time. She spent most of the time with her mom, mostly due to the nature of his job. The reason for the divorce is unknown although they seem amicable, even close. Peppy and his wife did reconnect (which ended up with Poppy) but she died before they could get back together.
Viva's horse is named Milkshake (tentative)
At first, Viva rubs Clay the wrong way. They meet at his first drill team practice and she acts like he is new to this (which he is) but Clay wants to be taken seriously and he's competitive. They end up being partnered together because Viva's notoriously picky horse likes Clay's horse.
Viva looks a lot like her mom while Poppy will look a bit more like her dad.
Viva often feels forgotten by her father. With his work, the loss of his ex wife and taking care of a baby, she feels left out. And this is coming from a girl who didn't have a big relationship with him in the first place. And since she is olderish, she is left a bit more on her own.
The first time she really meets John, she apologizes to him for "almost getting him thrown in jail" and eventually it becomes an inside joke for them. Clay doesn't love it but John holds no hard feelings over it.
Eventually she does end up spending a lot of time over at Clay's house when they become more of actual friends. (uncertain of cliva crush or more sibling-like dynamic)
Shows curiosity when she's over for dinner and John and Spruce are cooking together. They do invite her to join at times.
Has been riding for most of her life.
She harbors a lot of internal fear - just not of horses.
Viva loves to sing and dance. When Floyd gets a bit older and starts making his own music, she helps him with other sounds and a female voice when he'd like.
Is convinced her horse and Rhonda would be best friends.
Clay is very wary of her father, knowing he has the power to ruin his, his brother's and JD's new life.
Loves candy necklaces, has more energy than what to do with, and has a thing about capes.
Soft spot for plaids.
Terrified of chickens
Here is just a couple of Clay things (around the horse-thing)
Clay initially learns western riding first but wants to learn English. And then he does. He takes this all very seriously. He does do speed/gymkhana but feels like it's more fun and games and sees English as more "serious". (I'm not saying that is how it is, it's just how he sees it)
Delta mostly teaches him to ride, since she rode horses in her youth as well. He takes on it quick
Black Beauty makes Clay cry and he will come to end up owning three copies at least.
Brandy mostly braids his hair for english shows.
Heard about drill team through the grapevine. Add in Delta's connections and boom - he wants in. He went in 100% not knowing what it really was.
Clay does struggle with feeling like he is the least favorite.
John takes Clay on his first trail ride, trying to show him that nothing everything has to be serious/a competition.
Okay that's all I got for now! I hope you like it though! I really should think more about Viva and Poppy's family; I just haven't gotten around to it much yet. And since Branch is a baby right now and will be for some time, I don't think about Poppy as much. At least for now lol
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The Hong Kong New Wave
For today’s blog post, I wanted to switch it up, and focus on a generalized overview of an important movement within Hong Kong cinema. This particular movement I wanted to ensure did not only impact Hong Kong action films, but a plethora of others as well. The movement that I chose to focus on is the Hong Kong New Wave. This period took place in the late 1970’s and continued into the late 90’s. This new era of film was encouraged by Westernized ideas. Many notable filmmakers were now producing films and content that were competing quite well against Hollywood films. Furthermore, this new era was quite different from Chinese cinema. One of the many acclaimed directors from this time, Wong Kar-Wai, boldly stated, “This is what the difference is between Hong Kong and Chinese cinema - Chinese cinema was made for their own communities. It was for propaganda. But Hong Kong made films to entertain, and they know how to communicate with international audiences.” (Movements in Film). It is very interesting to note how different these two types of cinema are. Furthermore, it is important to recognize how much more Hong Kong cinema progressed during and leaving this era. The two videos demonstrate a little more about the history of the Hong Kong New Wave.
youtube
youtube
While researching this topic, I wanted to see what other directors that I would come across. The two that come up first, as assumed by anyone who dabbles in Hong Kong cinema, were Tsui Hark and John Woo. Both directors pushed the limits of action cinema, often pushing past any boundaries and trying new things. Specifically, Tsui was known to do this. According to other film sources, “Set in the years just before the Japanese invasion, Peking Opera Blues follows a trio of women (Brigitte Lin, Cherie Chung and Sally Yeh) who get mixed up in a scheme to steal an important something from a local warlord. With deft action and comic sequences and a shockingly progressive (certainly for Hong Kong in the ’80s) feminist approach (led by Lin’s gender-nonconforming heroine), Peking Opera Blues is as close to perfect as the popular cinema gets.” (Gilman, 2017). It is quite fascinating to think about these concepts being explored this early on, considering that a lot of films in the 80’s particularly was more conservative (traditional) with the concepts that they explored. Consequently, it is clear that the Hong Kong New Wave provided this sense of security for creative freedom.
As I continued my research, I found that John Woo faced many other obstacles when navigating his work. Woo was struggling to manage his career while having depression and substance abuse issues, Tsui took him in to collaborate on projects together. Thus, creating a further emphasis of their power over this movement.
Sadly, this New Wave concluded by the late 90’s due to lack of funding, which then had a domino effect that impacted the ability of filmmakers to be able to have as much creative freedom as they had before.
References:
Gilman, S. (2017, August 12). Tsui Hark. Medium. https://medium.com/the-chinese-cinema/tsui-hark-9dda28e21609
What is the Hong Kong new wave? A beginner’s guide. Movements In Film. (n.d.). https://www.movementsinfilm.com/hong-kong-new-wave
YouTube. (2022a, February 8). What happened to Hong Kong film? | video essay and Documentry of hong kong new wave. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJ8E6O7KH4A
YouTube. (2022b, June 2). How the Hong Kong new wave changed everything. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SZoTvdrT85E
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of all the things they could make mickey and ian fight over, why are the writers going with 2 so OOC storylines in the final season? the show never framed ian as seeing mickey's illegal income as not "real" work before. and mickey was never the slacker type, so why now? and mickey would never vague about monogamy. i'm so confused. if they gotta fight, why not over something in character and meaningful. this just feels like writers being mean to the fans, making us sit thru all this nonsense
Hey! Thanks for the ask. Made my (very weird and stressful) day.
I’m going to be disappointing right off the jump and say that I don’t actually think any of this is OOC, per say. But. In GENERAL. Shameless is not the show it was. I think this is very normal for long-running shows. Take Friends: When you get into the back half of that show’s extensive catalogue, is starts to feel like the characters are a Xerox of a Xerox. Early season Monica is a bit OCD, and a clean freak who loves to be in charge -- but she’s also warm, and hospitable and emotionally available to her friends. Late season Monica is often a coked-out squirrel-woman who loses her mind if someone moves a pillow. That’s quality isn’t out of character, but it’s no longer being balanced with the warm and supportive woman we initially met. I think a bit of that might be “we already know you either like or hate Monica, so we’re just giving you the stuff that’s funny and/or dramatic. We got 22 minutes and six characters and we don’t have to build that other shit anymore.”
I think that’s happening with Mickey and Gallavich. And I don’t think that’s weird for a) a show that has run this long and b) a character who was gone and then returned. They are giving us a Mickey that has always existed -- unbound by traditional manners, aggressive, blunt and obsessed with Ian Gallagher -- but we aren’t getting much of the Mickey who curls up with Ian at the worst time of his life and kisses his forehead. We aren’t getting all the verbal confirmation of Big Feelings they gave us when he came back in season 7. We aren’t seeing Ian and Mickey as a team, which is a big part of their mid-seasons dynamic. I think that makes people feel like these arguments are OOC, when they’re arguably reasonable issues, but aren’t being given a ton of nuance, or balance.
Aside: There’s some balance in how the actors are playing the intimacy and the physical affection. The little touches and kisses are appreciated by me.
So to dig into the OOC stuff -- first of all, it makes total sense to me that they’d have issues about the role crime plays in their lives together. I love that Ian never gave a damn that Mickey is a straight up criminal. But every time Ian lost Mickey, it was because the law intervened. When Mickey is not incarcerated, he’s with Ian. Ian is no longer 16, no one is a juvenile offender, Mickey was given a devastating sentence in season 6 -- 16 years -- Ian was 18! That was his entire living memory, if not more. They are married now, against considerable odds, and I completely understand why Ian doesn’t want Mickey to risk going back to jail.
Likewise, I get why Mickey doesn’t want to do what Ian is doing. Mickey does not have the temperament for minimum wage jobs. He has a longstanding history of thinking it’s absolute bullshit to work hard for no money. Particularly when he’s smart enough, skilled enough and ballsy enough to make a LOT of money in an afternoon just by spotting an opportunity.
Mickey has never SAID this on the show, but in canon we have seen him go to prison four times. Once, because Ian’s unhinged spurned groomer shot him; once because Mickey CHOSE to headbutt a cop so he could go to prison and avoid his dad; once because Mickey was consumed with a need to avenge Ian; and finally because Ian got himself tossed in prison, so Mickey CHOSE to join him. If Mickey has confidence that he won't go to prison if Ian isn’t a factor... Not the craziest idea.
So -- writers spitballing ideas for Gallavich conflict? I think that’s a pretty good one. Two clear sides that both have merit.
I’ve already written a bit about my thoughts on the monogamy issues... first, I’ve always figured they were monogam-ish, to reference Dan Savage. They are faithful to each other while they’re together, and when they are separated (usually by prison!) they aren’t. This isn’t the first time Mickey has voiced a lack of interest in being monogamous -- most notably “Great. Now we’re in a horror movie.” Mickey isn’t a traditionalist and I don’t think he feels like this is a make-or-break issue. But MOSTLY?
MOSTLY.
I really and truly believe what I’m about to say...
Mostly Mickey wanted to do what Ian wanted.
If he legit didn’t want monogamy he wouldn’t have tried to cheat of Ian’s paper. He didn’t like that “write it down and flip the paper” game. He wanted to match Ian’s answer. So he took a guess and he was wrong about what Ian -- who had literally just told him he found the concept of the rest of his life overwhelming -- had written.
This is my head cannon: I think he liked that Ian wrote down monogamy. This is not my head canon: they are SUPER sweet to each other in the next scene. I am not convinced that the monogamy debate is going to be much of a thing beyond that scene. And I understand that, for a lot of people, that scene was extremely unpleasant. To me, personally, it made sense for it to come up. But I think it’s settled. I think they’re done with it.
The one place where I’m like “What is this?” is the slacker stuff. I mean, I can meta why Mickey might be afraid of failure or whatever, but it’d be mostly head cannon. They haven’t given us a ton to build on there. The best we got is “Stop disappointing the people you love!” being what motivated Mickey to do something he didn’t want to do. But Mickey was right, if he thought that interview was going to be a disaster. Mickey knows himself and he is painfully aware of his limitations.
As for why are the writers DOING this? Well. Ok. Here’s what I think it is:
1. Story is conflict. So they needed one. And “struggle to adjust to marriage” really isn’t a bad one. Specifically, figuring out how to be married when you have no role models and have a few social strikes against you is a good one.
2. The writers are amused by Gallavich fighting. They think it’s entertaining. And while there are a lot of people out there for whom Gallavich is EVERYTHING, Shameless’s viewership is also made up of people who think Frank is hilarious. No one ever send me an ask about why Frank is hilarious. I will not be able to figure that one out and the research might kill me. We definitely don’t all agree on what is and is not funny.
3. They’re going somewhere with it. At least a little.
I don’t KNOW three is true, but here’s something I believe about John Welles. I think he’s a biiiiit of a sap. I think he probably wants to leave each Gallagher with something nice. I don't think his plan it to send everyone off on an ice floe to freeze to death. So I think (hope?) that what we’re going to see is three (maybe four?) episodes of Gallavich At Odds and then I think we’re going to move into them trying to work together to make lives together. And they will probably still fight, because that seems to be part of the Xerox of a Xerox of Gallavich. I’m sure many people will find that cringey and problematic and annoying -- but I also bet we get a few moments we love, here and there.
I don’t think they’re trying to be mean to the fans, but I think it’s serving 8 characters ... Nope. 9. (I forgot Frank. I always forget about Frank.) ... and we aren’t going to get the depth and breadth we want. And most of that will be on the side where we see Gallavich loving each other, because at this point they expect us to KNOW that. And some of it’ll be Mickey’s internal life because they tend to focus on the Gallaghers. But I do fervently hope we get a little more of that other side of the coin. Because I absolutely agree that one side is more fun than the other.
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Bruised
For @scribbles97 ::hugs you silly:: It is only little, but it is Scotty with a dash of Virg being Virg.
Sometimes the prescription is simple, if unexpected. A little Scott hurt/comfort.
I hope you enjoy it.
-o-o-o-
Thunderbird One shuddered as she slid into dock, her whole fuselage groaning as if in relief. As she relaxed, her airframe creaked, losing heat to the cool of the hangar and for a moment everything was still.
Scott let his shoulders loosen, his whole body slumping in his pilot’s chair. One by one, he uncurled his fingers from the controls, his joints stiff from holding them so tight.
His head dropped back against the headrest and his eyes closed.
God, damn.
Breath hissed between his teeth as he let it out as if he had been holding it in all afternoon.
It certainly felt like he had.
They couldn’t save everyone.
They couldn’t.
But god, how he tried.
He drew the breath back in and activated pilot retrieval. One’s main viewing hatch folded back and the platform extended out from the dock as his chair unfolded to meet it.
Even then it took him a long moment to move.
“Scott?” John startled him. “You okay?”
He drew his shoulders up, straightening automatically. “Perfectly fine, Thunderbird Five.”
There was a grunt from orbit. John didn’t believe him.
Scott was not surprised.
A sigh and he pushed himself out of his seat and onto the delivery platform, forcing the correct stance so he didn’t abruptly end his career on the concrete floor far below.
Machinery that had no concept of emotional state hummed smoothly and retrieved him back to solid ground. He took the last step.
Scott stared at his elevator for a solid minute before turning to the stairs and taking them instead.
He needed to move. Needed start his heart beating again. Needed to rescue himself from that vast hole that was sucking him down into its depths. That same empty hole those dead eyes had lured him to once the boy’s life had fluttered away and…
He closed his eyes and rubbed his face with a gloved hand.
It was always the eyes that got him.
These ones had been brown, somewhere between Virgil’s and Gordon’s and…oh god.
Move.
He threw himself up the stairs. Fortunately, there was a lot of them and they made his body work hard. By the time he made it to the locker room, he was panting.
His own breath was harsh in his ears and had a helplessness to it he didn’t want to acknowledge.
He shed uniform. His gloves hit the bench, followed by his baldric, his boots skidding across the floor. Struggling not to think, he unzipped his flight suit and shed the thick material, barely acknowledging the cool air as it hit the bare skin of his arms.
Another moment and he flung off his undershirt and shorts and padded over to a shower cubicle naked as the day he was born.
Goose pimples raised on his arms.
The shower was as hot as he could get it. But not hot enough to wash away the bruises he had no doubt Virgil would be targeting the moment he laid eyes on his eldest brother.
Scott’s sigh couldn’t be heard above the water spray.
Body scrubbed clean…ever so clean…red raw in places…the Commander of International Rescue stood under the steaming shower and closed his eyes.
You can’t save everyone.
It was his father’s voice. The same voice that came to him in all difficult moments. Grey eyes, reassuring smile and a strength Scott wished daily that he had. Jeff Tracy was a legend, bigger than life. Jeff Tracy was his father.
Jeff Tracy was a voice that guided him, that saved him, held him tight and prevented him from falling into that pit of despair that sometimes just loomed.
He turned the water off and let the remains drip off his body.
His left thigh was turning an ugly purple.
Damn.
Another sigh and he pushed aside the cubicle door and grabbed a towel.
It was big, extra fluffy, sky blue and all Virgil’s idea. He could still see his brother making his case for luxury towels in the locker room where they were needed. Mental health, he claimed.
Scott, Air Force to the core, had used abrasive cardboard squares masquerading as towels enough times to acknowledge the difference and how right his little brother was. It wasn’t a luxury; it was a necessity.
Scott buried his face in deep cotton as the cool air wrapped around him. Another moment and he was rubbing himself dry, his thigh, left ribcage and arm complained. The ache was creeping up on him. He hadn’t really noticed other than the sharp collision when he had initially fallen.
But he hadn’t had time. Arms full of dying rescuee with a building on its way down…he did what he had to do.
Still, it hadn’t been enough.
First John and then Virgil yelling at him over comms. He was fine. The teenage boy was dead, but Scott Tracy was fine.
Just fine.
He scrubbed his hair dry, trying his best to ignore the fact his left arm hated being lifted above his shoulders.
Hair hung in his eyes and he brushed it aside, irritably.
Somewhere outside the rock walls of the locker room a familiar roar swelled and he knew Thunderbird Two and his three brothers were moments away from invading this quiet space.
Scott straightened. It was inevitable. Virgil would not let him escape again, but there might be a few more minutes alone if he got his shit together.
One of the advantages of flying the fast ‘bird. First dibs at the showers and that moment to gather himself before his brothers cornered him.
Digging through his locker, he found some underwear, loose pants and an old t-shirt. His usual casual wear beckoned, but even he knew he wasn’t fit to go out again, even if Virgil hadn’t grounded him yet.
He wasn’t stupid.
Tomorrow, yes. Today? He needed a stiff drink and time to himself.
So that is exactly what he did. Detouring to the drinks cabinet, he nabbed himself a bottle of scotch and two tumblers. Two, because he was a realist.
Hair still a damp mess, he skipped up to his rooms, grabbed his tablet, and hid on his own private balcony. From here, he could see the Island, the villa below and the sky to the south. Mateo had birds hovering over it like it always did in the early evening as the day started winding down.
His eyes randomly tracked a lone bird, different from the others, coasting past high above the Island.
He threw himself into an overly plush lounger. Again, a sky blue and Virgil-instigated. Scott had returned from a mission several years ago to find it sitting on his balcony. Not a word had been said, but he knew it was Virgil. Just like the towels, it wasn’t extravagance, it was mental health and Scott had to admit to curling up in the contraption on many an occasion since.
The tablet, bottle of whisky and tumblers landed with a thud on the wooden table beside it.
His body creaked as he folded into the chair and he was reminded that he would likely have a medic brother on his ass sometime soon.
He lay back and closed his eyes and forced every to muscle relax.
And tried to ignore the eyes etched into his mind.
Only to be startled awake as someone loomed over him.
“Hey, hey, it’s only me.” Familiar, soft baritone and deep brown eyes, Virgil was crouched down beside him. His brother’s hair was still curly damp from the shower and he was frowning…at the bruises on Scott’s arm. “Just chasing you up after that fall.”
Scott shifted on the lounger and his whole body protested. Damnit. “I’m fine, Virgil.”
“I’ll decide that.” That prompted the ghastly yellow scanner light to flicker across his body.
“Virgil!”
His brother’s lips thinned to a line as he read the scanner’s readout. “You’re off rota at least twenty-four hours, possibly more.”
“I know that.”
“I’ll note that against your diagnosis of ‘fine’.”
Scott glared at his brother.
Virgil rolled back on his heels, eyes assessing in that damned medical way of his.
“Virgil, I’m okay. A few bruises. I’ll live. Stop worrying.” He hated being the source of anxiety.
Still, his brother stared, his frown emphasizing that scar between his eyebrows.
“What?!”
Virgil’s eyes didn’t waver. “Sit up.”
“Why?”
“Scott…”
Fine. He pushed himself up out of the lounger and sat on its side, frustrated as all hell as to why his brother was being such a pain.
Virgil rolled onto his knees and before Scott could do anything, he found himself wrapped in a massive hug.
His brother’s arms, ever so strong, built for heavy lifting, held him tight, but gently, Virgil’s damp hair brushing his cheek as his head rested on Scott’s shoulder.
Startled, it took Scott a blink to return the gesture, his longer arms flailing for just that moment of surprise before curling around red flannel. “Virgil? You okay?”
His brother’s only answer was to tighten his hold a little more.
Scott frowned, unsure what the hell was going on, but Virgil didn’t let go and Scott could only stay tensed up for so long before he was forced to relax into his brother’s embrace.
“What are you doing?” It was asked against flannel and his own breath was warm against his lips.
Virgil still didn’t answer, but one large hand crept onto the back of Scott’s head, fingers stroking hair.
What?
But somehow the question never made it to his lips. Somehow, his body began to melt, each muscle falling limp, those strong arms taking the place of the tension in his body.
Fingers carded through his hair.
“Virg…” But it was little more than breath and he found himself blinking rapidly.
No.
Still, Virgil didn’t stop. Scott could feel his brother’s steady pulse, thrumming against his neck, his chest moving with each breath.
Scott closed his eyes.
Ever so warm.
He could have struggled, fought, pushed his brother away. But…
Brown eyes vacant and hollow. The image had him flinching and the arms around him reacted, shifting just a little. His brother’s baritone rumbled a reassurance he didn’t quite hear.
But still Virgil held him.
Held him.
Scott had no resistance left.
That baritone rumbled again and his brother’s free hand began stroking his back.
Nonsense words. His brother was spouting nonsense words.
But Scott’s eyes were closed and his body spent. He wilted into his brother’s arms and found himself breaking on the inside.
Vacant, hollow eyes.
So young.
So like a little brother.
Scott scrunched up his face, fighting his own reaction. But Virgil was still rumbling, still stroking his hair.
A single tear escaped to dampen red flannel.
No.
No.
He let the wave of grief wash over him, but refused to react, waiting for it to wane away.
His heart beat too fast and it left him exhausted.
And still Virgil held him.
He lost time for a bit there. Eyes closed. Warm flannel. His brother’s voice. A small part of him resisted it. Virgil was a little brother despite their closeness in age. Scott should be the comforter, always…
But the little boy who had lost his mom, the young man who had lost his dad…the commander who lost a young teenager in his arms today…took that moment, grabbing it like a life line and accepting what his brother was trying to give him.
He sat there, he didn’t know how long, just existing, warm and safe.
Perhaps he would have fallen asleep right there in his brother’s arms, whether he would be embarrassed to admit it or not, but there were bruises and aches and eventually he was forced to gently pull away.
Warm brown eyes peered up at him, still worried. Virgil’s hand was on Scott’s knee as if he didn’t want to let go.
“Thanks, Virg.”
That hand squeezed his knee in acknowledgement. “Lie down and get some rest.” His little brother stood up and walked out of sight a moment, only to return hauling another lounger, this one in a deep green. “John’s coming down in the morning. We can debrief then.” Virgil grunted as he put the lounge down. “Grandma has an eye on Gordon and Alan, but the Fish has a new Buddy and Ellie series and Alan is hip deep in that latest game of his. I think they’re good.” He threw himself onto the lounge and the structure creaked under his weight. He lay back, crossed his feet at his ankles and closed his eyes. Virgil was obviously here for the long haul.
Scott wasn’t surprised.
The scanner lay discarded on the table.
A sigh and he lay back just like his brother. The sky was beginning to pink in the east, the echoes of a sunset he couldn’t see lighting up Mateo.
He felt far more relaxed than he had earlier. A tension had been eased, while not entirely, that would take time, lessened considerably.
He eyed his medic brother. The man looked like he was going to fall asleep. The sight of him had Scott yawning.
Damn him.
But it was thought with fondness and with a sudden urge to reach out and hug his brother again.
“Go to sleep, Scott.”
Virgil didn’t even bother to open his eyes.
Scott sighed and looked back up at the sky. It had been a shit day. Not the first. Probably not the last. Vacant eyes still haunted him and probably would for some time, but a pair of rich, brown eyes full of life and not a little love had somehow managed to take the edge off. His brother had filled that cold vacuum of a hole with warmth.
Virgil began to snore and Scott was forced to smile.
The snoring was probably fake, but it was lulling nonetheless. Safe and home.
Loved.
Scott closed his eyes.
And let himself drift away.
-o-o-o-
FIN.
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Reviews of Christian Allegorical FANTASY
Note: Christianity is a broad, varied thing. I can only write from my perspective, and it’s hard to describe that perspective to an international audience. Words have different meanings in different countries. But this is what I think about the various Christian allegorical fiction I’ve read, measured by writing quality, allegorical quality, and ability to make me happy. Your perspective may vary.
Chronicles of Narnia, by C.S. Lewis –
Writing: Y’all know this guy is good.
Allegory: Shockingly strong for something with such mass appeal. And deeper than you thought as a kid. Never sidelines the story, because he’s integrated the two so well.
Problems: So, you don’t notice the colonialism, racism, classism, sexism, and mild ableism as a kid. Dude was a white British man during the early and mid 1900s. He does not entirely rise above his culture. Some of the dehumanization of species/cultures that are obvious stand-ins for real world cultures horrified me during my latest reread. And it’s subtle enough that it’s hard to point out to kids.
Story: The story is great. I’ve read ‘The Horse And His Boy’ so many times that my papa’s copy is held together with tape. He wouldn’t let me take them when I moved out. Had to buy my own. It was tragic.
The Archives of Anthropos, by John White –
Writing: Reminds me of Terry Brooks, a little. In that the writing is servicable, and some of the fantasy is pretty derivative, but it’s definitely not bad. The roots are strong, but he didn’t have enough experience to cut all the weaker bits and ruthlessly rewrite.
Allegory: Solid. Not tacked on, not super deep. Really good for a Narnia imitation.
Problems: Not sure, haven’t reread in a while. Pika didn’t like a battle near the beginning, so we had to stop.
Story: It’s set in Winnipeg!!! Unashamed about being heavily inspired by Narnia, this series is a delight. Not as good as it’s inspiration, of course, but it feels like a heartfelt fan letter. Some of the ideas are REALLY cool. This series is worth reading, you guys! Especially the first 2 books.
The Circle (Black, Red, and White), by Ted Dekker –
Writing: Readable. Slick. Masculine.
Allegory: Lacked both the desired subtly and the necessary depth. Felt like it was written for fantasy fans that felt guilty about reading secular books, rather than to say something important.
Story: Don’t like Narnia-esque books aimed at adults. Allegories shouldn’t be trying to be cool. Not a fan. (But please note that these opinions were formed 15-20 years ago. I may have been missing something.)
The Space Trilogy, by C.S. Lewis –
Writing: Again, this is C.S. Lewis. He’s good at writing.
Allegory: A little weird, for me. But I struggle with allegory for adults. One of the books is Adam and Eve on Venus, with original sin working slightly differently? I don’t get it.
Problems: My problem is that I don’t like it! Sometimes it reads like Douglas Adams, but not funny. That makes no sense!
Story: Don’t like Narnia-esque books aimed at adults, even if they’re written by the authour of Narnia. This is Sci-Fi. There is romance. Really not for me.
The Story of the Other Wise Man, by Henry Van Dyke –
Writing: Good, if I remember correctly. Feels dated and classic, like it should be from Victorian times. (I just checked, it’s from 1895.)
Allegory: Like most morality from more than a century ago, it reads a bit weird. Just, life was a lot harsher then. Nice clear simple message, just taught from a mindset I don’t totally understand.
Story: As a kid, this one made me SAD! He loses everything and feels like a failure! Does have a good message, teaching is sound, good storytelling, but it wasn’t fun enough to make the lesson stick.
Left Behind, by Tim Lahaye and Jerry B. Jenkins -
Writing: I remember the writing being fine. They read like thrillers, which isn’t a bad thing. I’ve enjoyed some thrillers.
Allegory: Revelations is ALREADY an allegory. This is just an uninspired expansion.
Problems: Everything.
Story: I hate apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic stories. This series wasn’t written by someone who was bothered by the suffering of everyone who made ‘wrong’ choices, and that makes it hollow and awful. ‘We’re so good and smart and better than other people!’ NO. That is not Christianity.
A Wrinkle In Time, by Madeleine L’Engle –
I still don’t get how this series is Christian?? Really freaked me out as a kid. Had quite a few nightmares.
After a little research, it turns out that she has a very different understanding of Christianity then me. You’ll have to get a review from someone who can see from that perspective.
Duncton Wood, by William Horwood –
Writing: Extremely good. Heavy and beautiful. Kept me reading as I got more and more weirded out.
Allegory: Not a Christian allegory. And yet Christian enough, in a weird Anglican(??) way, to make it difficult to interpret as non-Christian. There’s a Jesus figure who gets martyred. There are schisms. It’s weird.
Problems: Almost certainly shouldn’t be on this list, yet I spent half an hour searching for it because I was so sure it was supposed to be on this list.
Story: Moles and their experiences with religion. There are similarities to Watership Down and Redwall, Narnia and Lord of the Rings. (The last mostly in language/writing style). If it wasn’t so close to Christian allegory as to be in the uncanny valley, I would have loved it! As it is, I would have prefered LESS Christ.
Christian ALLEGORICAL Fantasy
The Pilgrim’s Progress, by Paul Bunyan –
Writing: (Note: I’ve only read versions rewritten for kids. At least one was heavily abridged.) This was written in 1678. That is a LONG time ago. The worldview is really different from ours. Also, the versions I read were not inspired updates.
Allegory: This was written only 100 years after the Protestant Reformation. Punishments are incredibly disproportionate. Rich people have completely different rules than the poor, and this is seen as Godly. It’s been over 20 years since I read this book, and I don’t remember much, but it’s a weird read if you’re expecting modern concepts of right and wrong.
Story: Fascinating! Did not enjoy. Might as an adult. Reading an allegory that you can’t relate to at all is a weird experience.
Hind’s Feet On High Places, by Hannah Hunnard -
Writing: (Note: I’ve only read the version rewritten for kids.) Writing is really good.
Allegory: Names that are just English words have always annoyed me. Other than that pet peeve, this is extremely good. Straight-forward enough to be read to a 7 year old, complex enough for me to reference when I’m trying to describe my experiences to my husband. Solid Christianity, with enough hard stuff to challenge you, while still managing to be fun.
Problems: We’ve got some nasty ableism baked into the setting (disability as metaphor for sin and bondage), and the images are painfully white.
Story: I love this book! This is a Pilgrim’s Progress that actually matches with Christianity as I understand it. If you’re looking for a fun fantasy with a good message, this isn’t it. If you’re looking for a distillation of Christianity, told as a story because that makes it more accessible – this is a good one.
The Divine Comedy, by Dante Alighieri –
Haven’t read it.
Tales of the Kingdom, by David and Karen Mains -
Writing: The first collection of stories is really strong. The next 2 get weaker. Short stories read differently than novels, and the writing style works well for that format.
Allegory: TOO strong. Some of the stories still make me mad to think about, because the messages are HARD. (Also, names that are just English words still annoy me, no matter now much I love the series.)
Problems: Ableism – true selves don’t have disabilities and are always beautiful. Art is not 100% white, but all the most beautiful people seem to be. And I love lizards far too much to handle the dragon story.
Story: These stories mean a lot to me. They are very much not something a non-believer is going to enjoy. They tend to focus on the parts of Christianity that are hard, uncomfortable, and/or different from mainstream culture. They also stick with you for decades. Narnia is my favourite series on this list to read, but Tales of the Kingdom might be the best for exploring your faith. Highly, highly recommend.
#religion#christianity#gecko recs stuff#people write things#these were the ones I could think of#anyone else know good allegories#(preferably aimed at kids but not tiny kids)#?
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Hypnovember Day 18: Monster
Ellen sat in the back room of the coffeeshop quietly sipping her tea. The other members of the hypnosis meet up group were slowly gathering after their break, chatting and catching up before practice portion of their group officially started. She strategized about what it would be helpful for her to practice tonight. Her traitorous brain eagerly supplied some silly power fantasies. She quickly suppressed them. That kind of stuff wasn’t fair to think about here. It wasn’t everyone else’s fault that she was so warped.
Ellen both loved and hated the group. She wasn’t just into power fantasies- she was genuinely interested in hypnotherapy and doing hypnosis for fun. She had been very surprised to find a local hypnosis practice group existed at all where she could practice her skills and learn more . (It was tiring having to work up the nerve to bug her friends to volunteer to be practice subjects.) Of course, she was the youngest person there and usually the only woman but- that was OK. She had long ago accepted that that most actual hypnotists were middle aged men and she was an odd aberration.
She felt like an aberration in other ways too. Few of the hypnotists here seemed to struggle with nerves in the way she did. Group practice often brought those nerves on . She hated the way they would make her words come out stilted and wrong, her gestures awkward, and her metaphors so mixed up until they ultimately went nowhere. When it got really bad, Ellen’s childhood stutter would return in full force. It felt important and meaningful to her that she got it wrong so often- like she had failed to perform in some cataclysmic way.
It also felt meaningful when she got it right. Ellen would feel proud of herself for her mastery of something and then almost immediately the thought would sneak in- “if only they knew”. It’s not that the hypnosis she was doing with the group had a sexual charge- group members ranged from kinda- to very- not-her-type- but she could only imagine the disgust her subjects would feel if they knew the full range of thoughts she had about hypnosis internally. Or, even worse, if they could see her web browser history. How would they feel being taken advantage of by such a perverted monster?
In a lesser but still meaningful way, Ellen also felt annoyed that she had never quite been hypnotized yet despite many, many attempts. Usually practice time involved pairing up and switching turns being the hypnotist and the subject. Ellen would usually go along with others’ inductions and give them some technical feedback afterwards, but the truth was she rarely felt anything besides plain, comfortable relaxation. She knew there was more- she could see it in the reactions of some of the people she hypnotized and the incredible mental feats they performed. She had evidence that this kind of deep hypnosis existed. She just couldn’t access it herself.
Ellen was shaken out of her reverie by a voice.
““Hi! I heard your name was Ellen?””
She looked up to see the group’s newest member. He was a little older than her- probably mid- to late-twenties- and had a nice dark beard. When she replied with the affirmative, he extended his hand and shook hers confidently.
“Hi, I’m John. Do you have a practice partner yet?”
Ellen and John socialized a bit before starting their practice. This was normal at the meetings- partially because of mutual nerves but also because everyone welcomed the opportunity to geek out about an unusual personal interest. John said that had been doing hypnosis for about 5 years- around the same time she had- but he had already started a stage show and was planning on turning it from a hobby into a career. She was impressed. She found herself feeling surprisingly connected to him. She wondered if he had that effect on everyone he met. If so, it was a neat trick.
When they finally got down to practice, Ellen started by doing a modified Flowers induction. She had come in with the intention of throwing in a lot of language patterns into her induction- she had been drilling her Zeebu cards lately- but an odd change of mood happened as she watched John start to sink into hypnosis. Something about the way he responded to her words, melting and seeming to almost to throw himself into trance, triggered something in her. She found herself hovering closer to him, her voice going softer as she spoke closer to his ear.
She almost reached out and touched his arm when she remembered- no. That would be inappropriate. She caught herself and reminded herself to be professional. She gave John a few generic positive suggestions and then brought him back up out of trance.
John took a surprisingly short amount of time to recover, his expression showing alertness almost immediately. When she remarked on it, he told Ellen that he was actually a very practiced subject- that he had purposefully worked on his ability to be hypnotized. Ellen hadn’t even known that was possible to do- the research she had read strongly suggested that someone’s ability to be hypnotized was pretty static and unchangeable. She confessed to John that she always had difficulty being hypnotized and envied people who could access that state easily. She worked to keep the longing out of her voice as she described her desire for the experience of knowing she was deeply and truly hypnotized.
John paused for a moment after she spoke. He gave her a curious, searching look. Then his face cleared as he seemed to decide on something.
“Hey, do you mind if I try something a bit different?” he asked.
Ellen nodded. She switched positions with him and made herself comfortable as per his instructions.
“Can I touch you?” John asked.
All things considered, Ellen thought she hid her spike of excitement quite well. She nodded again.
John started steadily and confidently speaking to her as he traced a finger lightly up and down her hand. He wanted her to focus on the feeling of the finger going up and down, he said. Ellen gamely focused her attention. It felt nice, that light touch.
John continued to talk to her, telling her she didn’t have to worry about going into trance or getting sleepy or being hypnotized- all she had to do was focus on his touch. That was good- Ellen had historically bad luck with those concepts. She dutifully focused, even as she had some stray thoughts about how amazing John’s voice sounded. John’s fingers started to move to trace her arm up and then back down, all the while continuing to talk to her about focus and enjoying how the touch felt. Ellen still noticed some of the clever words he said, but the specifics were fading. It was all beginning to feel like a general wave of instruction washing over her. She was vaguely aware he was speaking to her more directly now and telling her how good she was doing and enjoyed how pleasant those things were. Suddenly-
“Sleep!”
John’s hand grabbed her arm and pulled it gently downwards. Ellen felt her eyes close as her head nodded forward. Her whole body slumped. Fortunately, John was kneeling in front of her and waiting to catch her. Once he did, he took her shoulder and rocked her deeper and deeper into trance with his words and his touch.
It felt amazing- just like she had always hoped that it would. John finally stopped rocking and took her hand. That gesture felt so right and lovely and perfect that Ellen felt herself quietly moan in response.
And then....she noticed she had done it.
Suddenly thoughts flew back into her mind. What was she doing? Did everyone else hear her? Were they watching her now? Were they realizing what a creepy pervert she was?
Ellen violently sat up, opened her eyes, and yanked her mind awake. Shaken, she took a moment to clench and unclench her hands, reminding herself that she had power over them. She was up. She had control of herself. She was OK.
After a few breaths, she looked around the room and noticed that no one else seemed to be looking at her. She resisted the urge to cry in relief.
She finally noticed John was there, still on his knees and giving her a concerned look. “Ellen?” he asked firmly. “How do you feel? What happened?”
She took a moment to respond. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to....I made a noise and I didn’t mean to be...awkward. I’m really sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he replied, going back into a more soothing voice. “Being hypnotized feels good sometimes, yeah? It’s ok to enjoy it. Is that what happened? It felt good in..in a way you weren’t expecting?”
Ellen nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m..weird, I didn’t mean to be weird,” she replied, still very flustered.
He looked at her gently. “You’re not...you’re not that weird. Listen, I get you might not want to talk about this here but- we could talk about it after practice maybe? I think we may have some things in common.”
Ellen thought about everything she had seen about erotic hypnosis online. All the misogyny. All of the shame and degradation people wrote about. She pictured the sexy stage show she had downloaded parts of and how much the hypnotist seemed to relish in people’s genuine embarrassment.
She remembered that she didn’t really know John at all.
“No!” she replied sharply. Then gentler- “I mean, I don’t want to talk about it. It’s OK. I’m OK.”
He nodded. “You are, you know. And it’s OK if you’re....if you’re not ready yet to talk about it. But- “ He made sure she was looking at him as he said the next part. “There’s nothing wrong with you. And- if you do ever want to talk more about it or even ask questions, here’s my card. Call me anytime, ok? I mean it.”
He produced a business card out of his pocket. Ellen hesitated, then took it.
Just then, the leader announced that their practice time was over and moved onto wrapup. Ellen waited for everyone’s attention to be gathered, then snuck out the back on the building. She needed some fresh air. She was done with hypnosis for tonight.
But she thought of the card, still in her jacket pocket, the whole bike ride home.
#Hypnovember#monster#poor lil Ella#I mean Ellen#things will get better#things that never happened to me#but arguably should have
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Is sober living home a good idea for alcoholics?
There are many different Sober Living Programs that had opened up across the United States in the last decade. The Sober Living Home concept is based on the fact that addicts do not want to be around people who are so emotionally attached that they would force them into sobriety. There are several Sober Living Home near North Miami Beach FL programs available to help addicts overcome their addiction. Here is a short list of some of them:
St. John's Wort Home Study Program This is an online program where you will learn everything you need to know about being sober and curing yourself of your addictive behaviors. Once you graduate from this program, you will have all of the tools and resources necessary to stay clean. This is an intensive 12-week program that will take you through all of the aspects of giving up drinking alcohol and overcoming your emotional addiction. There is a lot to be learned here and there is various Sober Living Home Programs that has trained graduates who have been through the program.
Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) This is an international organization dedicated to giving away recovery tools and support to people who are struggling with alcohol and drug addictions. If you suffer from a drinking problem, you need to seek treatment at this sober community. There is a network of over 12 sober homes located across the country. You can get the help you desperately need and make a fresh start with your life when you attend these programs. There is also a professional staff that will assist you in creating a life where you can stop drinking.
Narcotics Anonymous (NA) - This is a great, sober living program if you are suffering from an addiction to drugs. If you are ready to come clean, you can join this group. There is a very active group of women who have husbands or boyfriends who are recovering addicts. Here you will be able to interact with other recovering addicts and share your experiences. There is no cost to attend this facility and there are telephone hotlines where you can call in to speak to a professional or leave a message.
Christian Alcoholics Anonymous (CA) - This is a wonderful Christian based program that can help you change your life and the life of others. They have various small group settings as well as individual counseling sessions. If you find the right Christian based program, you will find a group that will encourage you to keep in contact with them over a long period of time while you are in treatment. The group leaders will be able to give you direction during the tough times so that you do not feel alone in your battle with alcoholism.
These are just a few of the ideas out there for sober living. I am sure you will come up with many more than you think about it. It is important that as you explore different options you find one that works best for you. There is no such thing as an easy way to kick the habit. Each one is different and has its own set of challenges that you must conquer before you will achieve sobriety.
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➽── 𝐟𝐚𝐧-𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐯𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ───❥
✦ yanna’s not very talkative during group vlives, unless she has a sugar rush
✦ so fans appreciate her more on vlives when she’s either alone, with a member or with 2/3 members only and when she suddenly comes out on other people’s vlives
✦ but yanna with all the members is pretty iconic too because she either gets way too hyped or is silently doing random stuff she thinks nctzens don’t notice
✦ her first solo vlive was pretty iconic (two years after their debut)
✦ she was barefaced, kept saying it was awkward and she kept on acting shy
✦ the members kept on calling her and suggesting things that she should do on vlive (renjun also told her that she looked like a helpless puppy and yanna told him to stop watching but he said he couldn’t since it was fun to see her struggle)
✦ she settled with hyuck’s idea, which was telling stories about trainee days
✦ she revealed how she became friends with each member, starting from jeno
✦ immersed with her storytelling, she accidentally let it slip that lucas had a crush on her when they were trainees
✦ the way her eyes widened and stopped immediately when she realized what she said made nctzens never want to forget that moment
✦ another fan favorite was her vlive with doyoung
✦ the two sang “let me be your star” from the tv show “smash” and killed it
✦ next is the infamous “compliment” battle
✦ yanna and jaemin decided to do a vlive randomly one day and the fans said they should do a compliment battle
✦ both aren’t that good with recieving compliments although they would often compliment themselves
✦ everything was fine until jaemin said “uri ae-cha, you’re a very special part of our team and i don’t think we could be nct dream without you”
✦ yanna started crying and jaemin + czennies were shocked because she usually never cries in public (this was before mark graduated)
✦ jaemin then comforted her by hugging her (slightly laughing so czennies wouldn’t get too worried) and kissing her head repeatedly
✦ another fan favorite was when kun, jungwoo, jaehyun and doyoung were doing a vlive and she suddenly started walking towards them
✦ jaehyun asked her what she was doing there and she said “YOU TEXTED ME TO COME” while the others laughed at her
✦ they asked her to show herself to the viewers and she came on and waved at the camera wearing an oversized shirt, denim shorts and and a bucket hat.
✦ “this is how she usually dresses up, isn’t she cute?” doyoung said and they started asking her to model for the czennies.
✦ “eh~, i don’t want to” she whined.
✦ but still did it anyway because jaehyun used the “daughter” card
✦ another one was during the “a cup of coffee” vlive and ten dropped the “john’s banana” joke
✦ as soon as yanna heard it, her eyes widened
✦ she was drinking her usual mixed berries smoothie when ten said it
✦ czennies could see her struggle and how hard it was for her not to laugh since she was in between johnny and jaehyun who she would get in trouble with once they realize she understood a dirty joke
✦ but as soon as she looked at johnny who laughed a bit, she bursted out laughing and accidentally spit her smoothie unto johnny’s shirt
✦ he then, stuffed her mouth with tissue saying “look back at your actions” jokingly
✦ another one was when taeyong was doing a solo vlive inside one of the rehearsal rooms and she entered unaware of it
✦ “hyung, i want ice cream but we have a recording tomorrow so they won’t let me have it!” she whined before falling dramatically on the floor (still behind the camera), loud stomps could be heard and taeyong could only giggle at yanna throwing a tantrum in front of him not knowing their fans could hear her
✦ taeyong then explained right after that she isn’t usually like that so people shouldn’t think that she’s a brat, it’s just that she was under a lot of stress lately because of their comeback
✦ there was also that one nct dream vlive where she spent the whole live smelling their hairs and them letting her (except hyuck who questioned it but only got hit so he ended up letting her be)
✦ also one of her solo vlives where she sang hamilton and dear evan hansen songs
✦ she then revealed it was once her dream to be on broadway but she loves where she is now
✦ during the 00-line vlive where they called jisung and told him to come, of course she was with him and chenle
✦ when they entered, she immediately kissed the top of their heads and said “i’m being nice today, it’s my concept” when hyuck was like “why?”
✦ she then let the members taste the bubble tea she bought but hyuck drank more than half of it because it was yummy
✦ she then bit his cheek and ran away while he chased her
✦ “don’t abuse her kindness” renjun told the viewers as hyuck’s “COME HERE” could still be heard
✦ during the “welcome nct 2018” vlive, she spent the whole thing saying “cute~” whenever any of the members do anything, while also smiling cutely
✦ any english vlive she does is hilarious to international fans
✦ she once spent a whole vlive dancing to tiktok songs and called it “breaking the fourth wall”
✦ during the vlive they all had before new year and before her and chenle turned into adults, she kept on singing “dream launch” and no one had any idea why
✦ and it would be on REALLY random moments
✦ the live was only 9:37 minutes long but she managed to sing parts of it for lyk 15 times
✦ chenle would join her though while the members could only laugh
✦ and of course, her most recent birthday vlive where she cried because she was way too overwhelmed (i might write a scenario about this)
✦ she was crying so hard she couldn’t blow the candles on the cake and it took her 5 tries to be able to do it properly but everyone found it so cute
✦ there could be more but they were just usual things like her biting the members or sticking her tongue out at the viewers/czennies
✦ and of course her being EXTRA affectionate which happens more often than she admits
↣ 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 ♡
#nct 22nd member#nct dream#nct dream 8th member#nct#huang yanna#female addition#yanna huang#kpop female addition
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Two Night Stand AU: Part 7
Ao3
Hiccup (3:52am): Astrid please, I can explain. Better than I did. I’m sorry.
Hiccup (3:52am): Astrid
Hiccup (3:53am): I keep saying your name, I don’t
Hiccup (3:53am): It’s my favorite name
Hiccup (3:53am): I know my name I just a bodily function but I love how you told me that and also none of this matters because I
Hiccup (3:54am): Please, if you get these, please give me your number. Please.
Hiccup (3:54am): I’m not begging. Not in the manipulative way. Or any way.
Hiccup (3:56am): Except I actually am begging.
Hiccup (3:56am): In the pathetic way.
Hiccup (3:58am): I thought about running after you. I didn’t because well, I was naked, or not, that’s not, I
Hiccup (3:59am): Please, just say anything. Please. I need to talk to you. I
Hiccup (4:02am): I’ve been saying ‘I’ a lot, that doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about what this means to you and I’m guessing it couldn’t be worse. This couldn’t have gone worse. I was everything you feared and more. Or less. I don’t
Hiccup (4:03am): I don’t want your comfort, not that you’d give it, I’m saying I’m the worst. I’m saying I’m awful and I’m sorry and this is so bad and it looks even worse than it is and I’d like to talk about exactly how bad it looks with you. Only you.
Hiccup (4:04am): Please, just message me back or give me your number or your address, I won’t stalk you, I’ll just send you a long-winded letter in cursive on cardstock.
Hiccup (4:05am): I’ll buy cardstock, I can’t write cursive though
This is pointless. And stupid. And the only thing Hiccup cares about even as he gets the notification that Heather’s plane has landed. She’ll be home soon. Fine. It’s fine.
He should make the bed. He should shower. He should do anything but obsessively message the perfect girl who isn’t responding.
Astrid.
Astrid.
Astrid who feels like home. Astrid who’s gone. Astrid. Astrid.
He keeps saying her name like it has a hidden definition. Like it’s a code that can unlock some way out of the mess he’s placed himself in.
It can’t, because there isn’t.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Because he made a mess. Not just a mess. A mud pit, in which he voluntarily brought dirt into his life, and then mixed it with water, and then invited someone who lacked the qualifications to turn mud into structure into his life, and somehow, instead of being a disaster, it just lit everything on fire.
The mud pit is a clay-pit. The moving sculpture of his life fired into place the second that he realized Astrid for what she truly was. Is.
It has to be possible.
Or, you know, there’s just no reason to any of this.
But the thing is that after pulling the short stick enough times, it ceases to be random chance and starts to feel like reserved karma. And Hiccup would like to cash in.
And yes, he understands that the idea of karma is not a genie in a bottle, it is not a magic wand, it cannot magically bring Astrid into his life, not that he’d want it to because—well, she’d hate it—but he thinks there should be some sort of cosmic station where one could exchange the sum of their theoretical suffering for what they want.
Like he lost a leg, that’s…big ass misery, ok? That was a gigantic ‘fuck you’ from the universe. He endured it with a mostly strong chin and stubborn sense of humor, but right now, he is willing to drop it forever just for a specific configuration of ten digits.
That’s a pretty good deal, right universe? Deal or No Deal?
Spin The Wheel of Fortune, Universe.
Do You Want to Be a Millionaire, Universe?
The Price is Right, as in this is the best he has to offer, so Universe, maybe make your move.
“Honey, I’m home!” Heather calls from the living room as she disarms the security alarm.
Check. The universe says, sliding the queen of the castle into view.
“In the bedroom,” he says back, staring down at Heather’s note, wondering how leading with it would go. Not well, not that there’s any way any of this will go well.
It’ll be faster maybe, if he leads with the Dear John letter he knew about for weeks that led him to make a ‘fuck you’ account on a dating website and God, he is so stupid.
“What the fuck is this?” Heather dives right into it, standing in the doorway with a folded piece of paper in her hand.
“Oh, sorry, I was supposed to be vacuuming with my pearls on,” he says flatly, “I forgot we were going to roleplay Leave it to Beaver, which takes on a very different meaning when you add the sexual element—”
“Hiccup,” Heather sighs his name like it’s an impossible to squelch bodily function, and he can’t keep Astrid off his mind for even a second, can he? “The note, by the front door, what is it?”
“I’ve…” He swallows hard, wiping his hand on his boxers before picking up his only shred of pitiable evidence, “I have the note right here.”
“Trade me,” she raises a non-plussed eyebrow, but her hand shakes as he puts her own letter into it and takes the scrap of paper from her.
Thanks for last night. I had fun. Great apartment!
xx Astrid
It’s smeared, written in makeup, casual in a way that Astrid isn’t. In a way he thought he was before he met her. His mouth goes dry and he tries to hide it, looking up at Heather and waiting for her to react to her own note.
She stares at it for a second before frowning and folding a new crease in it. When she holds it up at him like the last card in her Uno hand, it hits him for the first and final time that he really was batting out of his league with her. Not because she’s too good for him, even though his decision process over the last week or so corroborates that, but because she’s wrong for him at some fundamental level that he never believed in.
He knows he’s playing fast and loose with the concept of karma, but for the first time, fate makes some kind of sense.
“When did you find this?” She looks ashamed under her hard edges, the ones that don’t blunt and crumble even when they’re alone. The ones he used to think were strong when maybe they’re actually cruel, but he’s not dumb enough to blame her for making him that way.
Maybe they bring it out in each other. Brought.
“When did you write it?”
“Does that matter?” She laughs and Hiccup shrugs, willing himself honest even though it’s hard.
“Probably not.”
“Because of Alison, or whoever wrote the slutty little note you left me to find?”
‘Yes’ is the honest answer, but not the right one.
“Because you’re right. It’s not working.” He sighs, “it hasn’t been for a while, we’ve been…growing apart—”
“You haven’t been growing at all,” she retorts, “and your snarky, cryptic thing isn’t as charming as it used to be when I’m around it all the time—”
“That’s fair,” he taps his temple, “I live here, it’s not great.”
“You waited until I was out of town and cheated on me instead of just telling me directly that you’d found my note.”
“Yeah,” he nods, “and you didn’t give me the note, I think it’s fair to say that communication has been breaking down for a while. And communication is the cornerstone of any relationship, so suffice to say when that breaks down, the relationship goes with it.”
She shakes her head at him, slowly, a little shocked. He doesn’t remember the last time he actually surprised her, the last time she authentically laughed at his antics instead of spurring him on with a half-interested glint in her eyes. She doesn’t quip back though. That hasn’t happened in a very long time.
“What happened to you?” She asks after a too long minute and he shrugs.
“I…realized it was time to be honest. To stop doing this just because we feel like we’re supposed to, because we’ve put so much time into it.” He feels it now, everything that drew him to her in the first place. All the hours and days and weeks they spent together, making friction like it was a resource. “The fact is, I don’t think we’re right for each other. I think we’re just…or at least I was scared that there’d never be anything better.”
“So, you’re breaking up with me because you’re infused with optimism that we’re both going to find something better.” She shakes her head, looking lighter and bored and not hurt enough for what he did. “You really believe that?”
“Not believing it wasn’t working.”
“You’re an idiot,” she points at Astrid’s note, which might as well be his prized possession now, because he’s going to have to move and it’ll fit in his wallet.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, I’m furious with you but…I get it. I wrote the note, I wish you hadn’t found it while snooping, I should have just given it to you. I would have if I thought you were capable of being this mature about this—”
“No, not about—we’re broken up, I think we both understand it, but umm…did you ever fake it?” What starts as half a joke ends in some bitter, curious, cringing place that he never wants to visit again, but given that this is probably his last chance to get the facts, he goes for it. “When we were together?”
He makes a hand gesture that he wishes he hadn’t. Heather shakes her head and he thinks she’s feeling the bad fit too. He thinks, because he’s realizing that he never learned how to read her face, not really. And not because she didn’t let him, and not because he didn’t try, but it’s a language with a different taproot, something he could struggle with for years and never be fluent.
“A year together. A fucking year and—all this,” she gestures at the apartment that he didn’t even really like, but agreed to because going with the flow was the way to make their bickering day touring apartments end, “gone, and you want to know if I faked it?”
“You shouldn’t do that,” he lectures, internally cringing but feeling lighter. Vindicated, maybe. Fully through the veil of embarrassment and into someplace free. “It’s no good for you, it didn’t help me.”
“Right, you do so well with criticism.”
“Maybe I do,” he shrugs, “I think we both know there are a lot of things we never learned about each other.”
“You’re an asshole.”
And that makes him think of Astrid, and how he’s never felt closer to anyone, and how he wants this to be over with and then, how Dagur is probably going to beat him up. He probably should get in touch with his long lost cousin, that’s probably his only chance against Dagur’s impending wrath.
“I can move out.”
“Ok.” She stands up and looks at him with dwindling recognition, the polaroid of the present crystallizing in her memory and affirming him eternally as ‘that dickhead’. It’s…it sucks. He sucks. “Let me know when you’re out, I’ll go stay with Dagur.”
“Shouldn’t take that long,” he regrets how mean it sounds until it seems like she doesn’t care, cut off from him in a way that isn’t new. He should have noticed. They should have talked. They didn’t, he was an asshole, and now the idea of Astrid is a North star brighter than the blizzard and definitely brighter than the vengeance his ego would like to imagine in Heather’s expression.
Except it’s not there. And he has no ego, not right now, not when he’s so eager to exit this conversation and this chapter in his life.
She is too. She wrote the note.
He should have just told her he found it.
He’s so glad he didn’t, and he’ll hate himself for it later, when the leak in his heart is patched.
“Alright.” She stands up and he half thinks she’s going to shake his hand, but she doesn’t, “well, bye, Hiccup.”
Her voice might catch. His throat might hurt.
As soon as she leaves, he opens the dating site again and tries to message Astrid.
Hiccup (5:10am): I broke up with her
CustomerHelpBot (5:10am): The account you are attempting to contact has been inactivated
Hiccup (5:11am): good job changing your name, very convincing
CustomerHelpBot (5:11am): The account you are attempting to contact has been inactivated, for further information, please contact customer service at 303-555-7893
Hiccup (5:11am): that’s a really weird way to give me your number.
CustomerHelpBot (5:11am): The account you are attempting to contact has been inactivated, for further information, please contact customer service at 303-555-7893
Hiccup (5:12am): I’ll call the number
He gives the supposed threat a minute to sink in before doing just that, and the robotic voice that picks up honestly shocks him.
“You have reached the customer service hotline for America’s Favorite Dating Site, what can I do to help you?”
It’s not Astrid.
Not remotely.
For one, the voice is entirely humorless, entirely dead. Bored in a way she’s not capable of, he’s seen it as she prowled around this apartment he hates, looking for something to do. Also, it’s a guy.
“Hi, I—Hi, you’re not—I’m actually looking to get in touch with someone I met on your site—”
“What is your name, sir?”
“Hiccup Haddock, my username is—”
“PrincessOutpost?”
“Thanks for not making me say it out loud.” He was drunk when he thought of that. He was drunk when he made this stupid plan. He was sober when Astrid showed up, eyes bright and shoulders strong, breathing hard as she introduced herself and shook his hand.
So awkward. So pretty.
And no, that first time wasn’t great. It was…necessary, like spring cleaning, but after they talked…after they got to know each other…
“I’m afraid we can’t give information about any of our cancelled accounts to anyone but the police.”
“She cancelled?”
“The last profile that you interacted with is inactive, as of even earlier this morning.”
“That—come on, man, it—”
“I’m sure it was magical, but we are legally obligated not to give our customers information out.”
“I really just need a phone number or an address or…or a last name.”
“I get that sometimes you don’t get a chance to talk much—”
“Rude,” Hiccup snaps.
“But we are legally obligated to not give customers’ information to anyone but the police.”
“The police?” He pauses, picking Astrid’s eyeliner note up off of the bed and staring at it, resisting the stupid, fond, useless urge to swipe his thumb across her name.
“Yes, they’re men in blue who enforce the laws.”
“So, if I know she’d broken the law, you’re saying I could get that personal information.”
“Sir, our service doesn’t exist to help stalkers—”
“What about people who break and enter?”
#two night stand au#hiccstrid au#modern au#httyd fic#one more chapter methinks#i fought off melatonin to finish this because it kept haunting me
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Be A Time Lord, and Pass Your Own Vibe Check
I’ve struggled to put together a review for this, but I’ve taken an interest in this kind of writing recently, so...here goes. I promised myself I would review the books I read this year lol, and...
I started reading a couple “self help” books this year.
And “Stop Doing That Sh*t” by Gary John Bishop is kind of the self help book for people who don’t want to be dazzled by, well, bullshit.
Rather than trying to shower you with glitter and sprinkles, platitudes and promises that you hold the keys to your future...you know, the kind of stuff you think some infomercial guy might turn into an audiobook with serene music in the background...
yeah, this isn’t that.
This guy shoves your own nonsense in your face and says “ya like the smell of that cookin’?”
He basically says “waddup nerd, this is your psychology and you should make an effort to understand it, so you can accept it.”
There’s literally a quote toward the end where he says the most pure form of human acceptance is the general way we perceive a lightbulb: not positive, not negative, we literally have no opinion on if its good or bad, it is just a lightbulb. Or a clothes hamper. It’s just a hamper. No “charge or reaction to” the thing, is how he phrases it. It just is, and we give it no second thoughts.
And he says that’s how you need to learn to view your insecurities and negative thoughts toward the world. You can’t outrun, outsmart, or outwork the core conceptions (there are 3, and he spends a lot of time explaining them, but basically deep-rooted values that colour how you’ve trained yourself to “survive”. they’re usually negative beliefs, and they are central to how you behave). So he says understand and accept them, and you can pivot away from certain reactions because you’ll be able to see them coming.
Like, that’s the book.
It doesn’t dare you to stop hitting your snooze button.
It doesn’t bring up running marathons, or hitting a personal best in weight lifting or getting through your never ending to-be-read pile because you’ll finally start reading in the evening instead of watching TV.
He doesn’t point to a path that he thinks will be your version of success. It’s more like “you know your own dreams, and here’s why you’ve been standing in your own way”, and I find psychology interesting so it was an interesting take on this kinda stuff.
Literally he says you should just work on being self-aware for a while. Why don’t you want to try with things that you say you want? He calls it “self sabotage” and it’s to do with the core negative beliefs you hold.
He spends the last lil chunk of the book saying once you’ve got that down, you know what core beliefs tend to make you throw everything to the dogs (like being insecure or fearing you’re not enough stopping you from taking great job opportunities or maintaining healthy relationships, or just allowing yourself to be yourself with your friends), you need to learn to accept that you can have a great life.
A quote he puts in is “How good can you stand it”, which weirdly is something I thought about before reading this? That’s a bit “self-helpy”, I get that, but like...if you could have a so called “perfect” life, your absolute dream life...then what? would you be able to keep it? This guy is a life coach and he says it’s a super real problem.
He says you get addicted to your beliefs. So if you believe life is a struggle, absence of struggle in your life can make you uncomfortable because it would force you to find a new definition of life, causing you to self destruct (gamble away money, ruin relationships, etc), because self destructing puts you back at square one which is comfortable. It allows you to maintain damaging beliefs (yeah this book is brutally honest at times lol).
He literally says people self destruct because it allows them to avoid growth/change, and stay comfy.
The last bit, I really liked, and it reminded me a bit of another book Atomic Habits by James Clear, kind of about identifying yourself with what you want, not what you have been.
He throws in a quote that goes something like “we assume the past drives the future”, that those core beliefs and preconceived notions dictate what is possible for later life. That you can’t break the cycle, that time is linear.
He suggests instead to really hold in your mind’s eye what you want: career, living situation, partner, blah blah blah, and then break that down into milestones, and then into baby steps, and then start walking.
forget what systems you lived by before, cause they don’t work. You’ll stay stuck.
He argues not to predict your future based on now, but to dream a future and then start peeling away everything that isn’t that.
He uses the example of Michelangelo chipping away everything that wasn’t the statue of David, as he famously said he believed David to be underneath all that rock the whole time. He gets into this because I guess we all grow up with caps on what we deem possible - our parents made this much, so we aim for X, and too much excess is just out of bounds. Which I guess makes sense (and as a personal aside I disagree with his statement that “gratitude has been done to death”. Knowing how to be happy with a little is important, I think. Define your values and know what matters).
Use the future to inform your next steps, he’s saying, and recognize your own wiring and internal monologue, so you can sense your own bullshit from a mile away and do one of those pivots that Ross is so fond of. So if you do get the life you dreamed of, you don’t screw it up once you're there.
You have the backbone to find a new dream.
***
Cons:
he doesn’t say much about positivity, which ironically I really felt the lack of, even though going in he promised none of it and I found it refreshing.
I think that if you’re gonna pay this much attention to your own thought patterns, you should build in habits of gratitude and like...recognition of all the things that can and do go right.
I think for some people, a starting point of “lemme see everything I’m doing wrong in my mind” could go sideways pretty quickly. If you’re new to that kind of thing, I would say approach it slowly and with caution and take breaks. You’re not setting out to beat yourself up. Just observe. Don’t judge. Take field notes, and do experiments with reacting differently to things and take field notes again. Let yourself be.
I also don’t think that you should ignore your intuition. There are times where it’s good to pass on relationships or opportunities or jobs. Don't push yourself to do things for the wrong reasons - I guess that would count as self sabotage too.
TL;DR He’s really just saying get to know yourself so you can steer your own ship effectively.
Anyway.
This was way more rant-y than I intended it to be but oh well this is my blog lol.
2020/Covid/suddenly living in the slow lane led me to do some internal maintenance this year, and I've been interested in being responsible for my own psychology for years, so...I thought I’d share my thoughts. :)
also it is late there are probably spelling mistakes too bad lol
#covid reads#quarantine reads#book review#bookblr#tbr#December tbr#writerblr#review#rant#self help#motivation#untuck yourself#stop doing that shit#gary john bishop#motivating myself#mental health#psychology#psych#dr who#David tennent#iron man#Tony stark#tangled#disney#rapunzel#flynn rider#friends#ross geller#pivot#time lord
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Hello, I'm the last anon you answered to. I'm sorry if I came out as defensive because it wasn't my intention. In fact I've always thought that John was bisexual until I started questioning everything. ( I'm a bisexual guy myself and I'm perfectly happy with the way I am ! ) It's just that I feel like Yoko would just say whatever she wants on John to suit her agenda. John's sexuality had always been an interesting topic and dropping something like that would gaib her publicity this is why I --
I question the authenticity of her claims. She could have lied about it just to attract attention… And I’d be disappointed because John was in fact my idol and he gave me the strength to come out as bi to my family. But there’s so many anecdotes about him being homophobic that it just makes me sad and this is why I hardly doubt that he was a bisexual man…As for the Cynthia quote I heard her say something like “ John was afraid of homosexuality just like everyone ) in a video on Youtube –
I am very conflicted because I’ve watched videos of John ( interviews etc ) and many comments said that he was very skilled at manipulating people and wasn’t as honest as he appeared to be, which is why I doubt. John had always been the rebellious type and I started thinking that he was using the bisexuality topic to shock and make people talk about it which is disappointing. Was he dropping hints that he was bi to piss off people and make publicity ? This is what I believe : (There is also -
Something he said to Alaister Taylor where he said that he was trying to spread the rumor that he was gay or bi just for fun and he told him that he would never shag a man because just the thought of it turned him off… Yet he also told him that he adored Brian so much that he would have done anything with him ( he contradict himself here. ) So yeah I didn’t want to be rude. I apologize. I think I need reassurance. Could you please analyse everything I said if u don’t mind please ? : (
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Anon 2
At the very least all these years later isn’t it circumstantially suggested that John had very private gay encounters, and was uncomfortable making them public, yet wanted to hint at them so he could deal with this matter int he future? He was protecting his privacy and his ego, and perhaps wasn’t yet ready to reveal either his encounters or mixed feelings of bisexuality. His encounters have been protected by those with whom he was involved, people thameant a lot to him, no?
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Anon 3
hey! by any chance, do you have knowledge of the quotes where john said “sex with girls felt like a performance after the first time” and “i was never sexually attracted to women before yoko”? i am SURE i’ve seen the first one somewhere on tumblr, though the second one is more of a quote of a quote so i’m not sure if it’s real or not dfkdjk thanks, anyway!
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Anon 4
Hello! Is it true that John used to be very attracted to the drag scene in St Pauli ( I guess that was the town I read about ) and that basically the drag / gay scene made him feel comfortable and at home? Says a lot about him!
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@tbhmarjj
I adore you, thank u for this blog and ur beautiful mind. i doubt johns bisexuality at times tbh considering he went to great lengths for publicity and he wanted to be an LGBT ally, be cool and outspoken and as he himself said it was trendy to be bi. but then again he was obsessed with Paul in so many ways and he was the embodiment of John’s ideal man. beautiful, talented, intellectual. I’ll be patiently awaiting ur posts exploring Paul’s views on johns sexuality.Thank u
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Hello again, anon!
I want to begin by thanking you for getting back to me after I answered your ask and for clarifying where you were coming from when you wrote it. It really is quite hard to fully get the tone of a written message, especially one that is so short that you have no context to draw from to get the emotional meaning behind it. It really appeared to me when I read it that the concern was not who was saying it (Yoko) but about what was being said (John was bisexual). I can now see that was not the case and I appreciate that you’ve made that clear.
I also hope you don’t mind, but I’ve taken the opportunity to include in this answer all of the other asks I’ve been receiving regarding John’s sexuality. It’s clearly a topic of great interest in this community. So I’ll be attempting to address all the points raised here. Again, this is nothing definitive; only my personal readings of the situation as I find it at the moment.
Before I do answer, though, I’d just like everyone to take a deep breath and a step back. Let’s try to examine this topic a bit more objectively.
I understand that sex is kind of major in our society. Our notion of identity is tightly bound to our classified sexuality and gender. Sexual relationships (or amorous relationships) are seen as the epitome of human connection and the ideal everyone should be striving for. And people fundamentally want to be loved and not alone, so it makes sense that figuring out who is a potential companion (and if that companion is interested back) is such a big deal.
But despite these layers of meaning and societal pressures, we should keep in mind what sex represents, essentially, from an evolutionary point of view.
For social animals who derive pleasure from sexual stimulation, sexual intercourse is – like all the other kinds of affection – a way to build connections.
If you want to find examples in nature, just look at our ape cousins, the bonobos. The also called pygmy chimpanzee lives in a matriarchal society where sexual behaviour plays an essential role in strengthening social bonds, lowering tension and keeping the peace. Bonobos don’t discriminate between gender or age (except between mothers copulating with their own adult sons, so as to prevent cross-breeding). It’s the true “free love” society; evolution took “make love, not war” and ran with it.
Our own culture seems more similar to that of bonobos’ northern neighbours, the common chimp. Their patriarchy is more conservative regarding sexual intercourse, which is mainly used for reproduction purposes, and their power structure is based around intricate political games, where males form alliances and try to get public support in order to overthrow the ruling party.
I find it endlessly curious to look at these two species, whose physical separation by the Congo river made them diverge so starkly in their social organization, and compare them to the struggle between these same two natures that we find in our own society.
All this to say that, from a simply biological point of view, I have to agree with John and Yoko when they say that everyone must be bisexual. If sexual intercourse as a social behaviour is, inherently, all about establishing bonds and connections, the extent to which those connections are “allowed” to be built depends entirely on the hierarchal structure that same society is trying to preserve. In other words, what is classified as morally right or wrong is more reflective of the rules in place to keep that society working as it is, than it is of what is naturally present as a drive.
If your brain is primed to seek pleasure and sexual intercourse brings you pleasure independently of the partner’s gender, then the partner’s gender should be inconsequential.
But unlike bonobos, humans are kind of touchy about touching. So there are other levels of information influencing behaviour. The processes of socialization – of internalizing the norms and ideologies of society – and enculturation – by which people learn the dynamics of their surrounding culture and acquire values and norms appropriate or necessary in that culture and worldviews – are as determinant as the genetic factors influencing behaviour. In fact, this added education can be so effective in curbing your “primal instincts”, that one might forget they have them in the first place.
Thus, the concepts of gender identity and sexual orientation are a constantly shifting construct based on the various interactions between your genetic makeup and social influences.
I just think that, in order to have this discussion, it’s important to separate the various levels of it and be clear about which we are referring to.
There is the basic evolutionary drive to seek pleasure and form connections.
There is the social education about that same drive and how it is allowed to manifest itself.
And integrating all these different signals and information – various potentials which manifested as attraction – there finally is a behaviour, a choice.
And finally, there’s the external point of view of other members of society looking in and trying to discern other people’s drives and how they relate to their choices (that’s us now). The problem is, we often throw our own drives and choices into the mix, especially with regards to something as personally defining as sexual orientation.
So we have to make very clear in our minds what is the end goal here. Why are we interested in discussing this topic? Are we looking to discern as much of the truth as we can get it, objectively trying to understand these human beings? Or are we trying to confirm our own projections on them? And please, don’t take me wrong. All these are valid reasons to be interested in a subject. Often how it resonates with us, so personally, is vitally important to reaching a greater understanding about ourselves and learning how to communicate that to others.
But in the same way a piece of music can make you have a transformative emotional experience that the artist didn’t necessarily go through, it’s important to remember that our own inner-life might be affecting how we examine others. Better be mindful of what we project, lest we think are finally seeing inside another person when in fact we are only looking at our own reflection. (And honestly, I believe getting to truly know ourselves in this processes can be a hundred times more valuable than knowing the other. By learning to recognize ourselves we can better understand other people and vice-versa.)
So if it is important to you that John is bisexual, my honest opinion is that all the information can be read in a way that confirms it. We’ll hardly ever know for sure, and based on what we do know, that can certainly be the takeaway.
But if we want to objectively examine John’s sexuality, we shouldn’t bring in a confirmation bias. Meaning that we should be emotionally detached from the outcome, as long as it is as close to the truth as we can get. But this is only where I’m coming from, and I’m a bit of a scientist. It’s totally fair if you’re not in it for the same reasons. Though again, working under the assumption that you want to know my stance on it, let’s proceed.
I understand your reservations regarding Yoko as an unreliable narrator. To analyse Yoko’s motivations would be an interesting topic, but one which I will not go in at the moment as I don’t feel sufficiently informed about Yoko as a person to give an extensive examination.
But in my opinion, there is a whole lot of other information available from which to draw from other than Yoko’s statements.
I also get your and @tbhmarjj‘s concerns about John’s declarations during the 70s. But it’s the same question I posed in the previous post: Was the “bisexual chic” fad of the 1970s merely a publicity stunt for those involved? Even if it was, did it make the experimentations undertaken any less true? Were they just faking it for the press or were they finally allowed to try and be open about it?
Because I come from the biological background that places sex as a positive social interaction like any other, meaning that its purpose is to create bonds and the pleasure is our “reward” for doing it, I tend to believe that the behaviours were genuine. The drive there is real. As real as the internal constraints that would act on them as a result of societies shifting expectations and permissions. And this socialization is as determinant in the creation of sexual attraction as anything. So based on our definition of sexual orientation, all those bi rockstars of the 70s could have effectively stopped identifying as bi once the new social norm overrun their own internal drives and the previous less conservative status quo. That didn’t make them less bi when they were.
It’s funny, but in terms of gender and sexuality, nothing is real so everything is.
So yeah, I think that John could have been bisexual the second he felt he was. But because the social tide was likely to shift, it was better to also maintain a measure of deniability: it was just for show, it’s not serious, I was just taking the mickey out of you and you fell for it! Of course John was smart enough to leave space there to retract. He and Paul had mastered the art as communicators through song. They could claim them to mean everything and nothing as it suited them. As Anon 2 says, it’s a protective measure.
So I think that at some point in time, John genuinely identified as bisexual. Now whether he acted on it or not is another questioned entirely. As Anon 2 points out, there are various circumstantial accounts, but these are always tougher to verify.
I tend to believe Yoko when she says:
So did Lennon ever have sex with men?
“No, I don’t think so,” says Ono. “The beginning of the year he was killed, he said to me, ‘I could have done it, but I can’t because I just never found somebody that was that attractive.’ Both John and I were into attractiveness—you know—beauty.”
I ask what she makes of the people outside the building, the crowds still at Strawberry Fields.
Ono misunderstands, or mishears (or is simply focused on the last strand of our conversation), and continues to talk about sex.
“I don’t make anything out of it. When you’re not really interested in that sort of sex, you don’t think about it. Both John and I surprisingly were very passive people. Unless somebody made a thing out of it, if they made a move, I wouldn’t even think about it.”
— in Yoko Ono: I Still Fear John’s Killer by Tim Teeman for the Daily Beast (13 October 2015).
At least I believe he at least never “fully” did it, in the sense of full-blown anal sex. I think there might have been “milder” homosexual interactions, such as handjobs, that could be rationalized as not entirely gay (the thing with Brian in Spain being one of them.)
Regarding the drag scene in Hamburg Anon 4 was asking about, I agree that it also provides information about John. Though I think it’s mainly about his gender identity rather than his sexual orientation (though the two are invariably linked in the construct as well).
Here are some quotes about it:
With his four months’ greater experience, Sheridan was an ideal guide to the Reeperbahn’s more exotic diversions, like the Schwülen laden. Stu Sutcliffe later wrote home in amazement that the transvestites were ‘all harmless and very young’ and it was actually possible to speak to one ‘without shuddering’. Though raised amid the same homophobia as his companions, John seemed totally unshocked by St Pauli’s abundant drag scene; indeed, he often seemed actively to seek it out. ‘There was one particular club he used to like,’ Tony Sheridan remembers, ‘full of these big guys with hairy hands, deep voices—and breasts. But they used to make an effort to talk English. There was something about the place that seemed to make John feel at home.’
— In John Lennon: The Life by Philip Norman (2008).
And according to Horst Fascher (bouncer at the Indra Club and the Kaiserkeller):
It wasn’t just girls that were on offer to young english rockers. Monica’s Bar was Hamburg’s notorious transvestite club. For one or two English musicians, Monica’s was just another part of the Hamburg experience.
HORST FASCHER: One night Monica said, “Come, come and look. One of your boys is in the séparé.” “And who is it?” And she said, “One of the Beatles.” “Let me look”. She said, “Be careful. Look only sneaky-like.” But I did. I grabbed the curtain, pulled it aside and there was sitting John in… in a position with that girl, and you know. He felt really ashamed and I said, “John, don’t worry man. I did that all before.”
— In The Beatles Biggest Secrets. [Transcription is my own and I’m not too certain of it.]
Though there certainly might have been an aspect of sexual interest to it, I think John’s fascination with the drag scene was also the kinship with the queerness he felt inside himself; mainly in regards to him wanting to express his more sensitive side, which is coded as feminine in our society. So I think seeing men indulging in femininity and nonnormative behaviour resonated with him.
Also, I think it’s even more important to understand John’s relationship with sex in general, regardless of the partner.
To that end, the quote mentioned by Anon 3 is of special relevance:
When I was a kid, I wanted to shag every attractive woman I saw. I used to dream that it would be great if you could just click your fingers and they would strip off and be ready for me. I would spend most of my teenager years fantasising about having this kind of power over women. The weird thing is, when the fantasies came true they were not nearly so much fun. One of my most frequent dreams was seducing two girls together, or even a mother and a daughter. That happened in Hamburg a couple of times and the first time it was sensational. The second time it got to feel like I was giving a performance. You know how when you make love to a woman that the moment you come, you get a buzz of relief and just for a moment you don’t need anyone or anything. The more women I had, the more the buzz would turn into a horrible feeling of rejection and revulsion at what I’d been doing. As soon as I’d been with a woman, I wanted to get the hell out.
— John Lennon to Alistair Taylor (Brian Epstein’s assistant), 1965. In his autobiography With the Beatles: A Stunning Insight by The Man who was with the Band Every Step of the Way (2003).
And another important passage is in reference to Janov’s Primal Scream Therapy:
Well, his thing is to feel the pain that’s accumulated inside you ever since your childhood. […] The worst pain is that of not being wanted, of realising your parents do not need you in the way you need them. When I was a child I experienced moments of not wanting to see the ugliness, not wanting to see not being wanted. This lack of love went into my eyes and into my mind. […] Most people channel their pain into God or masturbation or some dream of making it. […] But for me at any rate it was all part of dissolving the Godtrip or father-figure trip. Facing up to reality instead of always looking for some kind of heaven.
— John Lennon, interviewed by Robin Blackburn and Tariq Ali for Red Mole (8-22 March 1971). [I really can’t stop pointing to this quote as one of the most important in order to understand John Lennon.]
As he reiterates in ‘I Found Out’ (1970): Some of you sitting there with yer cock in yer hand / Don’t get you nowhere don’t make you a man
To me, John’s pursuit of sex is, like most things in his life, essentially about filling this black-hole of emotional pain. He internalized the lack of love from his parents, which went into his eyes and mind, until he himself believed he was unlovable. This lack of self-esteem translates into a lot of pain and the need for an external solution for that pain.
The external solution is not wanting to feel so vulnerable any more. This can be achieved either by trying to seize control, by exerting it over others or having them look up to you (e.g. “fantasising about having this kind of power over women”; “some dream of making it”). Or it can be achieved by handing control over and being taken care of (e.g. “people channel their pain into God”, “I’ve seen religion from Jesus to Paul”.)
Sex as an activity can play into these various dynamics: it can be used to feel power over others, as John started out; it can be used as an escapist distraction, like a drug (e.g. “you get a buzz of relief and just for a moment you don’t need anyone or anything”); and it can be used as giving yourself over and being loved, looking to receive that which you can’t get from yourself.
As time passed and the first two solutions stopped working, I think John focused on the third: sex in the context of an emotionally close relationship as the ultimate intimacy and proof that he was loved. And because he wanted to absolve himself of responsibility, to be taken care of, his partner needed to be someone on the other end, someone who had control. In our culture, this reads as a masculine figure (e.g. “father-figure trip”).
This may be from a female, whose masculine qualities were what attracted John in the first place:
In this intense, intimate and revealing original cassette recording of a private conversation in 1969 between John Lennon and Yoko Ono, the couple speaks primarily about Yoko’s past relationships, her music and art, and their random views on sex, love, promiscuity, and homosexuality. […] [Lennon] adds that he had never met an attractive woman that had sexually aroused him to any great degree.
— Description of the 45-minute audiotape auctioned in 2009 by Alexander Autographs.
I used to say to him, ‘I think you’re a closet fag, you know.’ Because after we started to live together, John would say to me, ‘Do you know why I like you? Because you look like a bloke in drag. You’re like a mate.’
— Yoko Ono, interviewed for New York Magazine (25 May 1981).
Or the partner he was looking for could be found in the (often dominant) person he was most emotionally invested in his whole life.
All I want is you / Everything has got to be just like you want it to
And in a society that establishes that the closest two people can be, the greatest intimacy they can share, the ultimate declaration of love is to live in a monogamous amorous relationship, is it any wonder that John felt he could only believe in their relationship if they were together like that? Is it any wonder that he would doubt Paul’s affections because Paul apparently wasn’t willing to express them like that?
JOHN: It’s a plus, it’s not a minus. The plus is that your best friend, also, can hold you without… I mean, I’m not a homosexual, or we could have had a homosexual relationship and maybe that would have satisfied it, with working with other male artists. [faltering] An artist – it’s more – it’s much better to be working with another artist of the same energy, and that’s why there’s always been Beatles or Marx Brothers or men, together. Because it’s alright for them to work together or whatever it is. It’s the same except that we sleep together, you know? I mean, not counting love and all the things on the side, just as a working relationship with her, it has all the benefits of working with another male artist and all the joint inspiration, and then we can hold hands too, right?
SHEVEY: But Yoko is a very independent person. Isn’t it— [inaudible]
JOHN: Sure, and so were the men I worked with. The only difference is she’s female.
SHEVEY: But you didn’t find it difficult to make that transition?
JOHN: Oh yeah. I mean, it took me four years. I’m still not – I’m still only coming through it, you know.
— Interview with Sandra Shevey (June 1972).
I know I keep posting this quote, but I don’t think he can make it more obvious than that: it’s not about the sex. Or rather, the sex is not the primary thing.
He didn’t push all those years because he was uncontrollably horny for Paul. John just wants a physical manifestation, a more tangible “proof”, of his emotional connections. He wants to be able to hold hands, be held and perhaps also have sex with his best friend; he needs those proofs of love through the means of physical affection because he won’t believe Paul’s love for him is there otherwise (or that it’s as great as John’s).
Would society normalizing other kinds of relationships – such as friendships – to be as important or on the same level as amorous (romantic/sexual) ones, have helped John and Paul? Most likely.
Would society normalizing same-sex amorous relationships have helped John and Paul? Perhaps. (For this one we would have to look more closely at Paul’s needs and desires.)
All this to say that John’s idea of sexuality was extremely influenced by society, and in his case, the rule “amorous relationships are the normative ones” outweighed the “heterosexual relationships are the normative ones”.
The conflict occurred when from Paul’s perspective, the priority of the rules was the other way around. I think Paul was ready to ignore society’s norm and live his life with his friendship with John as the most important relationship. But he also wanted a heterosexual one. (But more on that on a post of its own.)
For now, I hope I have more or less managed to express my thoughts on the matter of John’s sexuality.
Thank you so much for reading through all that and for reaching out in the first place! I truly appreciate it!
#John Lennon#paul mccartney#yoko ono#the beatles#asks me why#I'm not a homosexual or we could have had a homosexual relationship#he could be a real soft sweetie#paul is a concept by which we measure our pain#touching is good#and when i touch you i feel happy inside#the person I actually picked as my partner#johnny#macca#alistair taylor#Brian Epstein#Tony Sheridan#Horst Fascher#meta#my stuff
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Can you elaborate on Erusamus and the reformation please, or at least point me toward sources? Politics make more sense than philosophy to me, so I see the reformation through the lense of Henry VIII, or the Duke of Prussia who dissolved the teutonic order, or France siding with the protestants during the 30 Years War because Protestants > Hapsburgs
So sorry to take so long!
If you needed this answer for academic reasons, given that summer term is pretty much done I’m probably too late to help, but I hate to leave an ask unanswered.
HELLA LONG ESSAY BENEATH THE CUT SORRY I WROTE SELF-INDULGENTLY WITHOUT EDITING SO THERE IS WAY MORE EXPLANATION THAN YOU PROBABLY NEED
Certainly religion has been politicised, you need look no further than all the medieval kings having squabbles with the pope. Medieval kings were not as devastated by the prospect of excommunication as you’d expect they’d be in a super-devout world, it was kinda more of a nuisance (like, idk, the pope blocking you on tumblr) than the “I’m damned forever! NOOOOOOO!” thing you’d expect. I’m not saying excommunication wasn’t a big deal, but certainly for Elizabeth I she was less bothered than the pope excommunicating her than the fact that he absolved her Catholic subjects of allegiance to her and promised paradise to her assassin (essentially declaring open season on her).
I think, however, in our secular world we forget that religion was important for its own sake. Historians since Gibbon have kind of looked down on religion as its own force, seeing it as more a catalyst for economic change (Weber) or a tool of the powerful. If all history is the history of class struggle, then religion becomes a weapon in class warfare rather than its own force with its own momentum. For example, historians have puzzled over conversion narratives, and why Protestantism became popular among artisans in particular. Protestantism can’t compete with Catholicism in terms of aesthetics or community rituals, it’s a much more interior kind of spirituality, and it involves complex theological ideas like predestination that can sound rather drastic, so why did certain people find it appealing?
(although OTOH transubstantiation is a more complex theological concept than the Protestant idea of “the bread and wine is just bread and wine, it’s a commemoration of the Last Supper not a re-enactment, it aint that deep fam”).
I’ve just finished an old but interesting article by Terrence M. Reynolds in Concordia Theological Quarterly vol. 41 no. 4 pp.18-35 “Was Erasmus responsible for Luther?” Erasmus in his lifetime was accused of being a closet Protestant, or “laying the egg that Luther hatched”. Erasmus replied to this by saying he might have laid the egg, but Luther hatched a different bird entirely. Erasmus did look rather proto Protestant because he was very interested in reforming the Church. He wanted more people to read the Bible, he had a rather idyllic dream of “ploughmen singing psalms as they ploughed their fields”. He criticised indulgences, the commercialisation of relics and pilgrimages and the fact that the Papacy was a political faction getting involved in wars. He was worried that the rituals of Catholicism meant that people were more mechanical in their religion than spiritual: they were memorising the words, doing the actions, paying the Church, blindly believing anything a poorly educated priest regurgitated to them. They were confessing their sins, doing their penances like chores and then going right back to their sins. They were connecting with the visuals, but not understanding and spiritually connecting with the spirit of Jesus’ message and his ideals of peace and love and charity and connecting with God. Erasmus translated the NT but being a Renaissance humanist, he went ad fontes (‘to the source’) and used Greek manuscripts, printing the Greek side by side with the Latin so that readers could compare and see the translation choices he made. His NT had a lot of self-admitted errors in it, but it was very popular with Prots as well as Caths. Caths like Thomas More were cool with him doing it, but it was also admired by Prots like Thomases and Cromwell and Cranmer and Tyndale himself. When coming across Greek words like presbyteros, Erasmus actually chose to leave it as a Greek word with its own meaning than use a Latin word that didn’t *quite* fit the meaning of the original.
However, he did disagree with Protestants on fundamental issues, especially the question of free will. For Luther, the essence was sole fide: salvation through faith alone. He took this from Paul’s letter to the Romans, where it says that through faith alone are we justified. Ie, humans are so fallen (because of the whole Eve, apple, original sin debacle) and so flawed and tainted by sin, and God is so perfect, that we ourselves will never be good enough. All the good works in the world will never reach God’s level of perfection and therefore we all deserve Hell, but we won’t go to hell because God and Jesus will save us from the Hell we so rightly deserve, by grace and by having faith in Jesus’ sacrifice, who will alone redeem us. The opposite end of the free will/sola fide spectrum is something called Pelagianism, named after the guy who believed it, Pelagius, who lived centuries and centuries before the Ref, it’s the belief that humans can earn their salvation by themselves, by good works. Both Caths and Prots considered Pelagius a heretic. Caths like Erasmus believed in a half-way house: God reaches out his hand to save you through Jesus’ example and sacrifice, giving you grace, and you receive his grace, which makes you want to be a good person and do good works (good works being things like confession of sins, penances, the eucharist, charity, fasting, pilgrimages) and then doing the good works means you get more grace and you are finally saved, or at least you will go to purgatory after death AND THEN be saved and go to heaven, rather than going straight to Hell, which is what happens if you reject Jesus and do no good works and never repent your sins. If you don’t receive his grace and do good works, you won’t make the grade for ultimate salvation.
(This is why it’s important to look at the Ref as a theological as well as a political movement because if you only look at the political debates, Erasmus looks more Protestant than he actually was.)
There are several debates happening in the Reformation: the role of the priest (which is easily politicised) free will vs predestination, transubstantiation or no transubstantiation (is or isn’t the bread and wine transformed into the body and blood of Jesus by God acting through the priest serving communion) and the role of scripture. A key doctrine of Protestantism is sola scriptura. Basically: if it’s in the Bible, it’s the rules. If it’s not in the Bible, it’s not in the rules. No pope in the bible? No pope! No rosaries in the bible? No using rosaries! (prayer beads)
However, both Caths and Prots considered scripture v.v. important. Still, given that the Bible contains internal contradictions (being a collection of different books written in different languages at different times by different people) there was a hierarchy of authority when it came to scripture. As a general rule of thumb, both put the New T above the Old T in terms of authority. (This is partly why Jews and Muslims have customs like circumcision and no-eating-pig-derived-meats that Christians don’t have, even though the order of ‘birth’ as it were goes Judaism-Christianity-Islam. All 3 Abrahammic faiths use the OT, but only Christians use the NT.)
1. The words of Jesus. Jesus said you gotta do it, you gotta do it. Jesus said monogamy, you gotta do monogamy. Jesus said no divorce, you gotta do no divorcing (annulment =/= divorce). Jesus said no moneylending with interest (usury), you gotta do no moneylending with interest (which is partly why European Jews did a lot of the banking. Unfortunately, disputes over money+religious hatred is a volatile combination, resulting in accusations of conspiracy and sedition, leading to hate-fuelled violence and oppression.) The trouble with the words of Jesus is that you can debate or retranslate what Jesus meant, especially easily as Jesus often spoke in parables and with metaphors. When Jesus said “this is my body…this is my blood” at the Last Supper, is that or is that not support for transubstantiation? When Jesus called Peter the rock on which he would build the church, was that or was that not support for the apostolic succession that means Popes are the successor to St Peter, with Peter being first Pope? When the gospel writers said Jesus ‘did more things and said more things than are contained in this book’, does that or does that not invalidate the idea of sola scriptura?
2. The other New Testament writers, especially St. Paul and the Relevation of St John the Divine. (Divine meaning like seer, divination, not a god or divinity). These are particularly relevant when it comes to discussing the role of priests and priesthood, only-male ordination, and whether women can preach and teach religion.
3. The Old Testament, especially Genesis.
4. The apocryphal or deuterocanonical works. These books are considered holy, but there’s question marks about their validity, so they’re not as authoritative as the testaments. I include this because the deuterocanonical book 2 Maccabees was used as scriptural justification for the Catholic doctrine of purgatory, but 2 Maccabees is the closest scipture really gets to mentioning any kind of purgatory. Protestants did not consider 2 Maccabees to be strong enough evidence to validate purgatory.
5. The Church Fathers, eg. Origen, Augustine of Hippo. Arguably their authority often comes above apocryphal scripture. It’s from the Church Fathers that the concept of the Trinity (one god in 3 equal persons, God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit) is developed because it’s not actually spelled out explicitly in the NT. Early modern Catholics and Protestants both adhered to the Trinity and considered Arianism’s interpretation of the NT (no trinity, God the Father is superior to Jesus as God the Son) to be heresy. Church Fathers were important to both Catholics and Protestants: Catholics because Catholics did not see scripture as the sole source of religious truth, so additions made by holy people are okay so long as they don’t *contradict* scripture, and so long as they are stamped with the church council seal of approval, Protestants because they believed that the recent medieval theologians and the papacy had corrupted and altered the original purity of Christianity. If they could show that Church Fathers from late antiquity like Augustine agreed with them, that therefore proved their point about Christianity being corrupted from its holy early days.
Eamon Duffy’s book Stripping of the Altars is useful because it questions the assumptions that the Reformation and Break with Rome was inevitable, or that the Roman Catholic Church was a corrupt relic of the past that had to be swept aside for Progress, or that most people even wanted the Ref in England to happen. Good history essays need to discuss different historians’ opinions and Duffy can be relied upon to have a different opinion than Protestant historians. Diarmaid MacCulloch’s works are good at explaining theological concepts, he is a big authority on church history and he’s won a whole bunch of prizes. He was actually ordained a deacon in the Church of England in the 1980s but stopped being a minister because he was angry with the institution for not tolerating the fact he had a boyfriend. The ODNB is a good source to access through your university if you want to read a quick biography on a particular theologian or philosopher, but it only covers British individuals. Except Erasmus, who has a page on ODNB despite being not British because he’s just that awesome and because his influence on English scholarship and culture was colossal. Peter Marshall also v good, esp on conversion. Euan Cameron wrote a mahoosive book called the European Reformation.“More versus Tyndale: a study of controversial technique” by Rainer Pineas is good for the key differences in translation of essential concepts between catholic and protestant thinkers. The Sixteenth Century Journal is a good source of essays as well.
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i’m going through my document folder trying to find the criteria for my stellar classification lab and i found a one thousand word opinion document rant about why trans john is good im now going to just paste it here without rereading what it says. lets see what it holds up.
Okay so essentially John doesn't have a character arc in homestuck proper. If we're considering, in this instance, a character arc being the way a character's worldview has to change to engage with the events unfolding around them. John really is never forced to shift or reconsider his dogma, and, in a grand and overarching scale he doesn't have anything he wants to accomplish above or beyond the stated 'live and succeed' terms given by the game. So for John, having an arc that involves an external conflict (e.g. Kanaya's arc culminating in the recreation of the matriorb) doesn't make any sense. There's no external Reward, per se, John could receive that would contextualize or add meaning to his struggles in the comic.
John also by far has the least interpersonal issues. There's never any larger scale conflict that results because of John disagreeing with or being unable to relate to/sympathize with any of his friends. John's pretty much universally liked and on amiable terms with almost every member of the cast he's met. So a character arc that requires John's interpersonal relationships to change or improve doesn't quite make any sense either. Contrast with a character like Karkat, whose entire character growth comes from changing the way he interacts with the people around him. So any sort of meaningful interpersonal arc for John is, I think, out.
That leaves us with Man vs. Self. Less typical of a conflict for a story that starts off as such a conventional hero's journey, although we all know that Homestuck subverts (for the most part, successfully) a lot of traditional storytelling concepts. Even as early as the first act of homestuck, we're introduced to the sense that john is 1. lacking in self confidence in some places and 2. uncomfortable with his current lot in life. The narration for John's hijinks often include a lot of commentary about how bad he is at doing the things hes doing when he does them, which, objectively, is true, and while initially played for laughs, I think gets recontextualized once we quite literally see The Writing on the Wall.
All of the kids scribble in their sleep but John's the only one who writes a bunch of cruel and self deprecating things about himself. One could argue that the Gamzee using chucklevoodoo on John is what caused him to write this, but I don't think that makes sense; arguably it'd only be meaningful as Emotional Torment to exacerbate pre-existing subconscious self hatred, not make up new shit. Considering John isn't consciously aware the writing is even there, I think it's safe to say that the implication is that on some level John really does feel this way about himself. And there's a lot more I could say on this but I will go on and make some other points.
First of all theres the way John is about his movies. We all make plenty of jokes about john being gay for mathew mccoughuhughouhgouhguhey and nic cage and we're all right about it but also there is the whole trans/gay issue of Seeing these characters in media and the lines between it being so blurry; do I want to like them? Or date them? I think part of john definitely realizes that in some ways what he's feeling is Attraction but I think because of the way he learns a lot of his social dynamic from movies, he internally has that thought train of 'wow, if I was a girl, I'd so totally be into dating cameron poe.'. Lets not deny that. Plus I think there's osmething interesting to be said about how the specific scene from any of johns terrible movies that gets the most narrative screentime is the one where poe reunites with his wife and daughter. There's some more stuff I could say here too regarding Dad Issues and Nuclear Family but I could definitely literally write a thesis about john egbert if I had to which is kinda sad ANYWAY.
There's some meta weight to John's place in the narrative of being one who brings about change. John as a character is a proactive one in a very bizarre way because he himself doesn't actually do much. However, what he seems to excel at is prompting action and change in other people. Even though all of the heavy lifting is done by other characters, John essentially saying ''lets do this'' instigates a huge majority of the actual change, growth, and progress that happens throughout the narrative. Especially in the GO! Timeline; john says 'no, things need to be different' and then physically leaves his own reality to Improve Life. All of the planning and work is terezi's; john just goes to serve as her errand boy, and jade's the one who has to suffer when the price is paid. Which brings up another point. fundamentally, john is not bound to reality in the same way the other characters are; he's completely outside of it, and I think that arguing that being freed by the harsh cosmic rules that control the way one is allowed to navigate Reality could be metaphorically interpreted as being able to free yourself from the rules and regulations of a Society. Doubly so since so much of homestuck is a story with emphasis on isolation, especially during childhood.
And getting more out there there's also the fact that homestuck Is a creation story, going even so far as hussie in the authors notes make a quip about 'adam egbert and eve lalonde' when john bites the apple that lets him enter the medium. John then goes on to be the one to create all the babies for the session as the ectobiologist, sort of playing the role of both a cosmic father And cosmic mother in a theological sense.
So like i'm not saying 'john is a trans girl and the narrative foreshadows it' because it definitely doesnt, but I am saying as far as 'male characters as trans women' headcanon goes, this one has a lot going for it on a conceptual level
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I think this one is worth a reblog ::hugs all of you so tight::
-o-o-o-
Thunderbird One shuddered as she slid into dock, her whole fuselage groaning as if in relief. As she relaxed, her airframe creaked, losing heat to the cool of the hangar and for a moment everything was still.
Scott let his shoulders loosen, his whole body slumping in his pilot’s chair. One by one, he uncurled his fingers from the controls, his joints stiff from holding them so tight.
His head dropped back against the headrest and his eyes closed.
God, damn.
Breath hissed between his teeth as he let it out as if he had been holding it in all afternoon.
It certainly felt like he had.
They couldn’t save everyone.
They couldn’t.
But god, how he tried.
He drew the breath back in and activated pilot retrieval. One’s main viewing hatch folded back and the platform extended out from the dock as his chair unfolded to meet it.
Even then it took him a long moment to move.
“Scott?” John startled him. “You okay?”
He drew his shoulders up, straightening automatically. “Perfectly fine, Thunderbird Five.”
There was a grunt from orbit. John didn’t believe him.
Scott was not surprised.
A sigh and he pushed himself out of his seat and onto the delivery platform, forcing the correct stance so he didn’t abruptly end his career on the concrete floor far below.
Machinery that had no concept of emotional state hummed smoothly and retrieved him back to solid ground. He took the last step.
Scott stared at his elevator for a solid minute before turning to the stairs and taking them instead.
He needed to move. Needed start his heart beating again. Needed to rescue himself from that vast hole that was sucking him down into its depths. That same empty hole those dead eyes had lured him to once the boy’s life had fluttered away and…
He closed his eyes and rubbed his face with a gloved hand.
It was always the eyes that got him.
These ones had been brown, somewhere between Virgil’s and Gordon’s and…oh god.
Move.
He threw himself up the stairs. Fortunately, there was a lot of them and they made his body work hard. By the time he made it to the locker room, he was panting.
His own breath was harsh in his ears and had a helplessness to it he didn’t want to acknowledge.
He shed uniform. His gloves hit the bench, followed by his baldric, his boots skidding across the floor. Struggling not to think, he unzipped his flight suit and shed the thick material, barely acknowledging the cool air as it hit the bare skin of his arms.
Another moment and he flung off his undershirt and shorts and padded over to a shower cubicle naked as the day he was born.
Goose pimples raised on his arms.
The shower was as hot as he could get it. But not hot enough to wash away the bruises he had no doubt Virgil would be targeting the moment he laid eyes on his eldest brother.
Scott’s sigh couldn’t be heard above the water spray.
Body scrubbed clean…ever so clean…red raw in places…the Commander of International Rescue stood under the steaming shower and closed his eyes.
You can’t save everyone.
It was his father’s voice. The same voice that came to him in all difficult moments. Grey eyes, reassuring smile and a strength Scott wished daily that he had. Jeff Tracy was a legend, bigger than life. Jeff Tracy was his father.
Jeff Tracy was a voice that guided him, that saved him, held him tight and prevented him from falling into that pit of despair that sometimes just loomed.
He turned the water off and let the remains drip off his body.
His left thigh was turning an ugly purple.
Damn.
Another sigh and he pushed aside the cubicle door and grabbed a towel.
It was big, extra fluffy, sky blue and all Virgil’s idea. He could still see his brother making his case for luxury towels in the locker room where they were needed. Mental health, he claimed.
Scott, Air Force to the core, had used abrasive cardboard squares masquerading as towels enough times to acknowledge the difference and how right his little brother was. It wasn’t a luxury; it was a necessity.
Scott buried his face in deep cotton as the cool air wrapped around him. Another moment and he was rubbing himself dry, his thigh, left ribcage and arm complained. The ache was creeping up on him. He hadn’t really noticed other than the sharp collision when he had initially fallen.
But he hadn’t had time. Arms full of dying rescuee with a building on its way down…he did what he had to do.
Still, it hadn’t been enough.
First John and then Virgil yelling at him over comms. He was fine. The teenage boy was dead, but Scott Tracy was fine.
Just fine.
He scrubbed his hair dry, trying his best to ignore the fact his left arm hated being lifted above his shoulders.
Hair hung in his eyes and he brushed it aside, irritably.
Somewhere outside the rock walls of the locker room a familiar roar swelled and he knew Thunderbird Two and his three brothers were moments away from invading this quiet space.
Scott straightened. It was inevitable. Virgil would not let him escape again, but there might be a few more minutes alone if he got his shit together.
One of the advantages of flying the fast ‘bird. First dibs at the showers and that moment to gather himself before his brothers cornered him.
Digging through his locker, he found some underwear, loose pants and an old t-shirt. His usual casual wear beckoned, but even he knew he wasn’t fit to go out again, even if Virgil hadn’t grounded him yet.
He wasn’t stupid.
Tomorrow, yes. Today? He needed a stiff drink and time to himself.
So that is exactly what he did. Detouring to the drinks cabinet, he nabbed himself a bottle of scotch and two tumblers. Two, because he was a realist.
Hair still a damp mess, he skipped up to his rooms, grabbed his tablet, and hid on his own private balcony. From here, he could see the Island, the villa below and the sky to the south. Mateo had birds hovering over it like it always did in the early evening as the day started winding down.
His eyes randomly tracked a lone bird, different from the others, coasting past high above the Island.
He threw himself into an overly plush lounger. Again, a sky blue and Virgil-instigated. Scott had returned from a mission several years ago to find it sitting on his balcony. Not a word had been said, but he knew it was Virgil. Just like the towels, it wasn’t extravagance, it was mental health and Scott had to admit to curling up in the contraption on many an occasion since.
The tablet, bottle of whisky and tumblers landed with a thud on the wooden table beside it.
His body creaked as he folded into the chair and he was reminded that he would likely have a medic brother on his ass sometime soon.
He lay back and closed his eyes and forced every to muscle relax.
And tried to ignore the eyes etched into his mind.
Only to be startled awake as someone loomed over him.
“Hey, hey, it’s only me.” Familiar, soft baritone and deep brown eyes, Virgil was crouched down beside him. His brother’s hair was still curly damp from the shower and he was frowning…at the bruises on Scott’s arm. “Just chasing you up after that fall.”
Scott shifted on the lounger and his whole body protested. Damnit. “I’m fine, Virgil.”
“I’ll decide that.” That prompted the ghastly yellow scanner light to flicker across his body.
“Virgil!”
His brother’s lips thinned to a line as he read the scanner’s readout. “You’re off rota at least twenty-four hours, possibly more.”
“I know that.”
“I’ll note that against your diagnosis of ‘fine’.”
Scott glared at his brother.
Virgil rolled back on his heels, eyes assessing in that damned medical way of his.
“Virgil, I’m okay. A few bruises. I’ll live. Stop worrying.” He hated being the source of anxiety.
Still, his brother stared, his frown emphasizing that scar between his eyebrows.
“What?!”
Virgil’s eyes didn’t waver. “Sit up.”
“Why?”
“Scott…”
Fine. He pushed himself up out of the lounger and sat on its side, frustrated as all hell as to why his brother was being such a pain.
Virgil rolled onto his knees and before Scott could do anything, he found himself wrapped in a massive hug.
His brother’s arms, ever so strong, built for heavy lifting, held him tight, but gently, Virgil’s damp hair brushing his cheek as his head rested on Scott’s shoulder.
Startled, it took Scott a blink to return the gesture, his longer arms flailing for just that moment of surprise before curling around red flannel. “Virgil? You okay?”
His brother’s only answer was to tighten his hold a little more.
Scott frowned, unsure what the hell was going on, but Virgil didn’t let go and Scott could only stay tensed up for so long before he was forced to relax into his brother’s embrace.
“What are you doing?” It was asked against flannel and his own breath was warm against his lips.
Virgil still didn’t answer, but one large hand crept onto the back of Scott’s head, fingers stroking hair.
What?
But somehow the question never made it to his lips. Somehow, his body began to melt, each muscle falling limp, those strong arms taking the place of the tension in his body.
Fingers carded through his hair.
“Virg…” But it was little more than breath and he found himself blinking rapidly.
No.
Still, Virgil didn’t stop. Scott could feel his brother’s steady pulse, thrumming against his neck, his chest moving with each breath.
Scott closed his eyes.
Ever so warm.
He could have struggled, fought, pushed his brother away. But…
Brown eyes vacant and hollow. The image had him flinching and the arms around him reacted, shifting just a little. His brother’s baritone rumbled a reassurance he didn’t quite hear.
But still Virgil held him.
Held him.
Scott had no resistance left.
That baritone rumbled again and his brother’s free hand began stroking his back.
Nonsense words. His brother was spouting nonsense words.
But Scott’s eyes were closed and his body spent. He wilted into his brother’s arms and found himself breaking on the inside.
Vacant, hollow eyes.
So young.
So like a little brother.
Scott scrunched up his face, fighting his own reaction. But Virgil was still rumbling, still stroking his hair.
A single tear escaped to dampen red flannel.
No.
No.
He let the wave of grief wash over him, but refused to react, waiting for it to wane away.
His heart beat too fast and it left him exhausted.
And still Virgil held him.
He lost time for a bit there. Eyes closed. Warm flannel. His brother’s voice. A small part of him resisted it. Virgil was a little brother despite their closeness in age. Scott should be the comforter, always…
But the little boy who had lost his mom, the young man who had lost his dad…the commander who lost a young teenager in his arms today…took that moment, grabbing it like a life line and accepting what his brother was trying to give him.
He sat there, he didn’t know how long, just existing, warm and safe.
Perhaps he would have fallen asleep right there in his brother’s arms, whether he would be embarrassed to admit it or not, but there were bruises and aches and eventually he was forced to gently pull away.
Warm brown eyes peered up at him, still worried. Virgil’s hand was on Scott’s knee as if he didn’t want to let go.
“Thanks, Virg.”
That hand squeezed his knee in acknowledgement. “Lie down and get some rest.” His little brother stood up and walked out of sight a moment, only to return hauling another lounger, this one in a deep green. “John’s coming down in the morning. We can debrief then.” Virgil grunted as he put the lounge down. “Grandma has an eye on Gordon and Alan, but the Fish has a new Buddy and Ellie series and Alan is hip deep in that latest game of his. I think they’re good.” He threw himself onto the lounge and the structure creaked under his weight. He lay back, crossed his feet at his ankles and closed his eyes. Virgil was obviously here for the long haul.
Scott wasn’t surprised.
The scanner lay discarded on the table.
A sigh and he lay back just like his brother. The sky was beginning to pink in the east, the echoes of a sunset he couldn’t see lighting up Mateo.
He felt far more relaxed than he had earlier. A tension had been eased, while not entirely, that would take time, lessened considerably.
He eyed his medic brother. The man looked like he was going to fall asleep. The sight of him had Scott yawning.
Damn him.
But it was thought with fondness and with a sudden urge to reach out and hug his brother again.
“Go to sleep, Scott.”
Virgil didn’t even bother to open his eyes.
Scott sighed and looked back up at the sky. It had been a shit day. Not the first. Probably not the last. Vacant eyes still haunted him and probably would for some time, but a pair of rich, brown eyes full of life and not a little love had somehow managed to take the edge off. His brother had filled that cold vacuum of a hole with warmth.
Virgil began to snore and Scott was forced to smile.
The snoring was probably fake, but it was lulling nonetheless. Safe and home.
Loved.
Scott closed his eyes.
And let himself drift away.
-o-o-o-
FIN.
More Hugs
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds#thunderbirds fanfiction#Scott Tracy#Virgil Tracy#earth and sky#nuttyfic reblog
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