#and when i tell her she's pushing herself and me to unrealistic beauty standards she's like 'don't be dramatic'

[tpwkwriter]

helloooo, you are like one of my fave writers!! I am requesting one with lhh where the reader feels very insecure and harry is comforting her and telling her she is absolutely beautiful and how in love he is with her and how he remembers the first time he saw her he knew she was the one and that he had never seen any one so breathtaking. And then they start kissing and it slowly escalates till harry tells he "let me show you how beautiful you are" or smth like that i dont really know and then the after careeee!!! OMG I WOULD DIEEE. Could you please write that?? THANK YOUUU!!!

Baby your perfect.

Omg! Thank you for your lovely words it always means the world 🤭

And yessss! This concept!! 🫢 and lhh 😩

Im a tad sucky on writing smut/smutty-ish stuff so I hope this works for you and you enjoy! 🤎

Also this absolutely no hate to any of these women mentioned!!!! Especially Kendall Jenner/kardashians for story purposes only!! 👑

*Warnings*- struggling with body image, low self esteem, language, hint towards smut and adultish themes! ✌🏻

Y/n’s Life had felt like it’s been on the right track for a while now.

She’s finally enjoying her career, her friendships have never been better, her relationship with H is the her pride and joy, hence them nearing there 5 year anniversary.

The only downside to all of this is her social media.

Ever since a young age y/n struggled with social media and unrealistic beauty standards.

And when your boyfriends exes include the Looks of: Kendall Jenner, Taylor swift, Camille rowe, that feeling of ‘Not good enough’ Never really goes away.

Y/n found herself in there shared bathroom gazing at the mirror before her wondering why she looked the way she did.

She really wondered what H saw in her, all the models and actresses and he chose her.

She examined her body, suddenly getting this feeling that she felt when she was 15 wondering why she wasn’t as pretty as the other girls in school.

Apart from she was and she didn’t even know.

She spotted every insecurity, from the stretch marks around her hips, to the scars and marks she developed on her body.

Tears begun to form in the corner of her eyes, her reflection became unbearable.

She wanted to forget this night had even started like this.

She cosied in her shared bed awaiting Harry’s return from the studio, she pulled out her phone ready to text her love, when her twitter notifications distracted her.

Mistakenly she clicked on the app, and was left feeling lower then she already had.

“Former kardashian and Jenner star admitted to pleading for another chance with singer and songwriter Harry styles!”

She clicked on the thread to be greeted with many images and gifs of her.

Her perfect figure, eyes, face, everything, she had everything.

And that’s what Harry deserved, he deserves it all.

Without even thinking y/n finds herself angrily throwing her brush against the wall out of anger.

“Baby?” A familiar voice called.

‘Fuck’ she though to herself.

He’s home

“Y’alright darling” he said, voice getting louder and closer.

“M’Fine” she sighed, trying her best to hide her tears.

There shared room door gets pushed open.

“Baby” he gently Said.

“H”

“What’s going on?” He said placing his jacket on the back of the vanity chair and toeing his trainers off.

“Nothing” she said forcing a smile to persuade the man.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing” he said raising an eyebrow and joining her next to her on the bed.

She remained quiet, thinking of how to play this out.

“Baby, Jus’ me y’know its okay” he said running a hand through his long curly locks.

“I don’t understand why your with me” she breathes, avoiding eye contact.

“Y/n?” He asked confused as hell.

“Baby, where is this Coming from? What?” He asks placing his ringed hand on her exposed thigh.

“You don’t deserve me H” she said finally breathed making cold eye contact with him.

“You deserve someone prettier, skinner, and overall better, than..whatever i am” she Said tears threatening to leave her eyes.

“Baby Girl” he asks manoeuvring his palms up to girls cheeks and pulling her in closer.

“Where is this coming from?, y’my girl, my gorgeous girl” he said heart almost breaking at the sight and sound of his girl.

“Kendall” she mumbles, tears finally falling.

“Kendall?” He asks eyebrows knitted together.

“She wants You back H, and now the whole world knows it” she quietly cries leaning her forehead on his.

He finally gets it, it adds up all in his head.

“Baby” he speaks, pressing a kiss to her cold lips.

“Fuckin’ hell” he says kissing her cheek replacing the salty tears.

“Y’really think, I want her huh?” He smiles

“My silly girl” he sniffs, trying to make light of this situation.

He removes his hands and opened his arms signalling for her to get in.

She sits on his lap, almost koala style with both legs wrapped around his waist and both arms over his shoulders.

“Now that you’ve got me, y’won’t be getting rid of me” he said dancing his fingertips on her back.

“I just…I don’t get it” she sniffed

“Why me” she mumbled, snuggling her face into his neck.

“Why you huh?” He breathed

“Well, the first time saw you, the thing I saw was not only y’beauty, but m’future, m’life, Ive Never met someone as breathtaking as you m’love Call me a sap, but y’my muse now” he gently said.

“Not Kendall, Not no one else, jus’ you” he said kissing the side of Face.

“Can y’look at me darling?” He whispered.

She happily complied, lifting her face from his neck and revealing her beautiful glossy eyes but now with a small smile to her face.

“I love you” he says kissing her lips hard and straight forward.

“Y’never to forget that”

“Love you too H, I’m sorry for being silly” she smiles

“None of tha’ i get it”

Without being able to finish properly, the girl crashes her lips on his.

“I’m so in love with you” she mumbles against his lips.

“Y’make me crazy baby” he smirks

“Please Baby, let me Show you How much y’mean to me” he says going in again.

“Show How beautiful You Are angel”

“Mmhmm” she nods

— — — — —

The Girl lies hazily in there bathtub of there en-suite bathroom, reminiscing on tonight’s events.

God she was grateful to have H, no matter what rut she finds herself in, he manages to no matter what pull her out.

“Hey beautiful girl” he said coming in pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Fresh sheets and tea on the bedside” he said while placing the girls fresh Pyjamas ( his hoodie and Boxers) on the closed toilet lid.

“Thank you baby”

“I’ll join you in a sec” she added

“Take y’time love”

Once y/n’s bath was done, she slipped into her boyfriends clothes he prepared for her, and reunited with her lover in there shared bed.

“Y’feeling okay m’honey?” He asks putting his phone down and leaning into his girl.

“Mmhmm” she hummed slipping under the soft sheets.

“Y’the best” she sighed.

“Mm certainly am” he smirked.

“Ugh great I just fed your ego more” she joked playfully rolling her eyes.

“There’s my y/n back” he smiled pressing a kiss to her temple.

— — — — —

Again thank your for your request and please, please tell me of this is any good! 😩 again I’m sorry for skimming the smutty Part Bit im so awkward writing it 😭 love love loveeee you all ❤️

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #my fic writing #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #fluff #fine line harry styles #hs #hshq #anon #thanks anon! #anon request #request #Harry #angst #tpwkwriter #my writes #my writing #y/n x Harry #1D #one direction #Lhh #harry styles one shots #harry edward styles #fanfic #boyfriend material #harry styles fluff #soft #boyfriendrry

[kyberphilosopher]

Mᴏʀɴɪɴɢ Lɪɢʜᴛ

Word Count: 2061

“The Sun card represents radiance. Like the sun itself, it gives strength and vitality to all those that are lucky enough to feel its rays. There is much joy and happiness that is coming to you. On the other hand, the Sun reversed might be indicative that you are being unrealistic. It might be a sign that you have an overly optimistic perception of certain situations. Be warned, for when the sun ceases to shine on you, depression is soon to follow.” - ‘The Sun’ Tarot Card; Full Meaning.

Tap Tap Tap. 

How early was it? Too early. You knew you had training today, but you were certain that wasn’t for another few hours. So what was that insufferable tapping for?

Tap... Tap Tap. 

You shift against your pillow. You can feel your hair stick against your neck, in sync with the tightening fist by your face. Your eyes do open, slowly but surely. You feel groggy, despite the growing alertness inside of you. You’re waking up. What’s more, you’re waking up before you really have to. 

Tap... Tap. 

Your sleepy eyes search around the room. Behind the glass of the window, you can make out a blurry image of yellow and pale skin. Still, you’re exhausted. It could be a silly little trick pulled by your own brain. But on the off chance that it is-

Annie. 

You sit up. Your vision is still smeared like oil, but you stumble out of bed. Your heel skims against the wood of the floor. It probably gave you a splinter, but now that you’ve started thinking about her, you know it’d be difficult to stop. 

You partially hop to the window across from your bed. Your right hand reaches out to unlatch the thing, while the left rubs at your eyes to get the gift of clear sight. As you turn the wood to the right to unlock it, you step back and away. 

The blond handles the rest. Her palms slip under the window and pull it up, and then she pushes herself through. She brushes the clear white curtains to the side and lands on the floor, just as your vision returns to you.  

She’s wearing her favorite white sweatshirt, and standard brown slacks. There’s ODM gear at her hips, complete with all the strappings and buckles. But her face... oh, her face. Despite the time apart, it’s the same one you’d fallen in love with. The big, still blue eyes were gazing at the wood she landed on. Her pale blond hair is pulled back in the usual bun, her bangs hanging loose as always. But her lips look shinier today. Perhaps she tried the new lip tint you’d bought the last time you’d gone shopping. 

“Annie,” you sighed with a soft smile. Any kind of stress you’d been feeling in the past few weeks without her was fading away, at long last. You knew she’d see you again soon, but you hadn’t realized she’d pick today. She must’ve wanted to surprise you. 

Annie’s right hand reaches up to rub the back of her neck. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t be up yet.” The girl looks your form up and down. “Or dressed.”

One of your feet rubs against the opposite shin. She’s not wrong. You’re wearing an oversized white shirt and cheap underwear that she can’t even see. Your hair is a mess, your eyes groggy, and your breath making your own throat want to gag. But you’re overwhelmed with happiness to finally see her again. 

“Yes you did,” you challenge firmly, but tiredly. 

Annie’s eyes soften. You’re right. She could picture your tired form in her head long before she’d even set out to surprise you. That and the fact that she’d purposely arrived before the morning chimes. 

“Whatever,” you wave off. You step towards her, your heart reaching out to hers. Her chest is like a magnet to your own. 

Your arms stretch out to embrace her. And you do. Tugging her to you, you feel her warmth. Her chest and neck flushed against yours, feeling your heartbeats fall into sync. Annie smells so good. She always has, but it must be that body wash the Military Police get to use. 

Annie is everything to you. The attraction was immediate, and the build up of trust came naturally over time. Despite the two introverted natures, you spent time together. You ate silent dinners, went through the motions of the days with each other. You taught Annie more about life and perspective more than she cared to admit, and in turn, she had made you feel more confident in your own character. It became fact among the cadets that where either you or Annie was found, the other was never far behind. 

And then, sometime in the midst of it all, the dynamic changed. 

Your faces got closer when you pinned the other down during sparring. You’d share your food from the same spoon when there wasn’t enough. Even begun sharing the same shower. You’d always thought Annie was attractive, but now the attraction was rapidly becoming a solid, almost tangible force. 

The heat radiating between the two of you was undeniable. One night, in the top bunk of your barracks, she crept into your bed and shared a kiss. It was wet and sloppy, but you were close to her. You didn’t care about the lack of experience from either of you. Annie mattered to you. You wanted to be with her, and apparently she felt the same.

Things were never made official by title, but you were even more inseparable than before. You’d witnessed her threaten Reiner for both hitting on you and insulting you on separate occasions. You judo flipped a boy for getting handsy with her. You went to winter markets, stargazed, and spent late nights sparring ending in clumsy make-out sessions. You loved her. You’d do anything for her. You’d already made a nonverbal promise to each other that you’d grow and mature together. What more could you ask for?

“I really missed you,” you admit, taking her in as much as you can. Annie sinks into your touch, closing her eyes in affection. 

“Yeah,” she replies, which is her own way of letting it slip that she missed you too. Both her hands come to rest under your elbows, effectively keeping them in place around her. Pft, as if you were going to remove them for longer than a split second anyway.

“So,” you drawl as you saunter back to your bed. You collapse on it, rubbing the space next to you as a call for Annie. “Tell me what I’ve been missing. The MP’s still treating you alright?”

Annie shifts and averts her eyes in thought. Then she follows your lead, sitting on the edge of the bed as she starts to unbuckle her harnesses. “It’s the same,” she tells you. 

“I know you don’t like them, Ann.  You don’t have to pretend.”

And with anybody else, Annie would’ve been quick to annoyance. But with you, she was glad. Even though she definitely didn’t tell you the truth about everything, she knew she could still be herself around you. She knew you could sense she kept some secrets from you still, but you’d never forced the issue. Everything about your love was focused on understanding. It was more than the girl thought she deserved. 

“What about the Scouts?” Annie decides in return. It’s a tactic at changing the subject, and one that doesn’t slip past you. Still, you don’t push. 

“Just as annoying as we thought. I have to officially get up and at ‘em in a few hours.”

Your lover unties her boots. “Have you been outside the wall yet?”

She already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear you say your piece anyway. 

“No,” you sigh. Your hand rests on your forehead, your elbow bent as you stare up at the ceiling. “We have our first expedition this week. We’re taking Jaeger out to try the Commander’s new strategy.”

Annie freezes. Then she continues her movement. “Right. I’d almost forgotten Eren was here.”

You doubted that. “The bastard talked about the Scouts non stop back in cadet training,” you say as Annie twists around to face you. “You sure you didn’t hit your head on the way over here?”

Annie doesn’t answer. But she does gift a hint of a smile. It’s gone in a flash, but it’s more than others get. 

Her ice blue eyes pierce into yours. It’s not threatening, however. It’s loving. Appreciating. She’s trying to memorize all the details inside of them like she’s about to do so for the last time. 

Then Annie lowers head head slowly, until it rests by the crook of your neck. 

“You got up early to see me today,” you say softly. 

Your love shifts off of you, and props her up on her elbow at her side. You mirror her movements to observe her as well. 

“I skinned my knee climbing from my barracks. My gear was giving me trouble.”

Some people may have expressed concern, but you knew your other half was strong. She didn’t need your pity. “Well maybe you shouldn’t have done that,” you shrug with snark back. 

“Heh, thanks,” she responds, looking down to stare at your white cotton sheets. 

There is quiet. The sunlight illuminates her hair. Her long eyelashes flutter up and down slowly. Annie is beautiful. No. Annie surpasses the boundaries of being beautiful. 

“Y/N,” she whispers. “Would you love me, if I were evil?”

What?

“What did you say?”

Silence. Annie doesn’t look at you. She seems solemn, troubled. Haunted, even. No, not quite haunted. Maybe just hollow. 

“Nothing,” Annie says decidedly. “I’m just muttering.”

You frown anyway. You know that Annie is weighed down by things that you can’t explain, or understand. It’s different from other soldiers, or just other people. But you didn’t think there was anything she could do to be evil. You had already shown and told her that you were in love with her. You wouldn’t go back on that if you even could. 

Annie was your world. Your lion. Your entire purpose for even making it this far. 

One of your hands reaches out to brush her fringe behind her ear. “I’d always be on your side,” you tell her softly. “There’s nothing you could do to change that.”

You’d be surprised, thought Annie. 

“I didn’t mean to be depressing,” she mutters further. “I was looking forward to seeing you again.”

Annie is sad today. 

Both of your arms wrap around her slim figure. You pull her close to you, so her head is between your chest and your neck. Both your bodies cradle against each other as you stroke the soft strands of yellow hair. The sun is seeping through the windows for only a passing moment, before it is covered by a blanket of grey clouds. 

“Let’s go back to sleep,” you whisper to her, your eyes transfixed on the drops of rain hitting the roof one by one. 

“I am sorry,” you hear her speak against your shirt. 

You pull away, your palms against her cheeks so you can look at her stunning face. “Don’t ever apologize to me, Annie.” What more can you say to reassure her? “I’m with you.”

Annie is heartbroken inside. Maybe it was better that she didn’t say anything. Or maybe it was better in another timeline, where you knew. But Annie kept her mouth shut and tried to just relax her nerves. There was no reason to wake up feeling as guilty as she had. She was with you now. You would protect her against the nightmares with her father, or Reiner. Nothing to be afraid of. 

“After this,” Annie says as you coax her head back against your body. “I’ll buy you one of those breakfast sweets you like so much. From the village.”

The rain taps against your window. The sun has all but disappeared by now. Surely the open window mixed with sheets of light rain will result in a damp floor, but there’s no way in hell either of you are going to get up and close it now. Instead you watch the water fall, thinking about how the shade of the sun matches that of your lovers mane. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

I wrote this really fast. I just really love Annie and wanted to give her some appreciation. A weak plot, but oh well. 

#annie leonhardt #annie leonhart x reader #annie leonhardt x reader #annie leonhart imagine #annie leonhart imagines #annie leonhardt imagine #annie leonhardt imagines #attack on titan x reader #annie leonhardt fanfiction #fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #aot fanfic #aot fanfiction #fem reader #annie x reader #annie x fem reader #annie imagines

[btsrmono]

Trial & Error | chapter 14

Main Pairing: (jimin): student/idol x (main): foreign student  Side Pairs: main x (nct) jaehyun

PART 13

“Wait, so you mean to tell me you actually believe in spies?”

You nodded your head, positively. “Dude, they’re totally real, I’ve done my research.”

“You’ve done your research.”

“Yes, there’s plenty of articles and documentaries on it.”

“What, on the dark web?” Jaehyun teased you. “There’s no way it’d be that easy to find.”

You rolled your eyes. Yes, it took you some digging to find, but you weren’t lying!

He laughed at your semi serious appearance and tapped you lightly. “Come on, I’m just joking y/n.” He looked at you for a second before deciding to pour you both another glass of wine.

When you had first arrived, he took you to the rooftop of his building and had a whole set up for you two laid out. A few candles and more than enough layers of blankets laid upon the ground, which was quickly dried up from the rain earlier, to your surprise. He didn’t fail to have some snacks and a small meal prepared.

To be quite frank, you weren’t expecting anything more than chilling inside with him, maybe watching some T.V but no, he actually arranged a real date with you. You couldn’t help but get butterflies upon the idea of his thoughtfulness.

You chuckled at the silly conversation as you picked up the glass, thanking him. He picked his up too and looked at you. “Cheers?”

“Cheers.”

After clunking the glasses, you both took a sip of the bitter yet smooth wine. It was pretty strong so you were getting a good buzz from it, allowing you to be more relaxed with him.

“You’re the type to believe in aliens too, I guess,” Jaehyun spoke, taking another sip.

“Sweetie, I believe in those more than I believe in spies.”

He almost choked from laughing too hard and you couldn’t help but to join him.

“Our next date should be at the movies. We should see a sci-fy together.” He laid his back on the ground, the pillows supporting his neck.

You smiled at the idea as you decided to get cozy and lay next to him. “We should,” you agreed. “What’s your favorite genre?”

Looking you in the eyes and smiling brightly, he took an arm and wrapped it over your waist. “You can’t laugh,” he told you.

“I won’t, I promise.” He stared at you and you could tell he didn’t want to say it. “Goodness, don’t tell me it’s romance.”

“What if it was?”

You accidentally chuckled before quickly shutting your mouth and trying to keep a straight face for the sake of his dignity. In response, he lightly gripped your side as he giggled. “You promised!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, it just happened. There’s nothing wrong with you liking romance, hun.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.... What about you?”

You sighed, resting your arm across his chest. “Thrillers, horror, action.” His eyes widened upon hearing this. “I like the suspense,” you explained. “And the unrealistic realities of it all. As crazy as it may sound, it’s an escape from the real world.”

He nodded his head in understanding as you continued.

“For me, I’m not the biggest fan of romance because it sets unrealistic standards. It’s a let down, none of that stuff happens in real life. Love is... more complicated than what they show.”

He stared for a while, trying to read you when the wind lightly blew, causing your hair to fly. He took a second to enjoy the view of your messy hair before pushing it out of your face and behind your ear.

“It is,” he whispered.

You bit your lip, feeling that maybe you were looking at it too deep. “Sorry, I—”

“You wanna know why I like it?” he asked. You nodded. “Like you said, it’s unrealistic. It’s also my escape from reality.”

“Yeah except it’s in the guise of what’s supposed to be reality, that’s what annoys me. They’re nothing but a bunch of impractical projections.”

He laughed, his dimples deepening more than usual, causing you to blush. “Something tells me you were on the debate team at your last school.”

You playfully slapped his chest. “Shut up!”

“It’s just.... they give me hope. It’s okay to wish for the best in a relationship, y/n. Maybe with time, you’ll see that.”

He was right, maybe you were looking at it from too much of a negative stance. You couldn’t help it when most of your relationships ended bad. It was safe to say you did hold a grudge against love for a while and it’s okay to admit that.

You let out a breath, feeling defeated. “You’re not wrong, Jaehyun. You’re not wrong at all.”

While he laid, staring at you, you started to realize just why there was a romantic spark in him. You mean, the date alone showed how he viewed dating and to you, it was... adorable?

Before you noticed, you were staring right back at him. “What are you thinking?” he asked you in a hushed voice.

You grinned at him, placing your hand on his soft face. “You’re so pretty,” you said, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

Next thing you knew, he was kissing you. Small pecks at first. Once, twice, then three more before it progressed intensely, yet he still managed to be gentle. You remembered that he was a good kisser but now that you were more sober than before, you were in actual awe with the way his tender lips molded perfectly with yours.

You both went on like this for a good while and didn’t stop, you didn’t think you ever wanted to. But when he groaned softly, he knew it was time to pull away.

You pouted your now puffy lips at him. “I was enjoying that,” you whined.

He grinned from ear to ear, taking his eyes off of you and glaring at the night sky. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty more where that came from.”

“Ooh, is that a promise?” You mimicked his moves, looking up at the sky too. It was more beautiful than usual that night.

“It is,” he replied. “And unlike you, I know to keep a promise.”

You jokingly nugged his leg with your knee and you both let out a blissful laugh and enjoyed each other’s company until 1’oclock hit and you had no choice but to end the date and go back home.

The bar might have been low for you due to your dating history but you could easily say that was your best first date ever.

~~

You were shocked when you woke up for school and made it to the bus stop on time. What you almost forgot about for a split second was Jinsoul’s existence until you saw her sitting on the bus bench by herself for once.

When her sight landed on you, she froze as you rolled your eyes at her and looked the opposite way. You were so not in the mood to deal with her right now.

Suddenly, you saw Jimin coming from around the corner, putting you in a semi happier mood. When he saw you, he smiled brightly and you waved from afar. As he got closer, you realized he stopped by a 7-11 on his way.

“Hey, sleepy head!” he yelled.

“How’d you know?” you rhetorically asked as you took the plastic bag out of his hands to examine the items he brought.

“The eye bags explain it all.”

“You asshole!” you shoved him as he laughed and then you picked out an item: samgak kimbap. You unwrapped the food and started to eat, enjoying it more than usual since you skipped breakfast that day. “Thank you,” you said with a full mouth as you handed the rest of the food back to him.

He scrunched his nose in disgust but shook it off quickly and threw you a grin. “You’re so cute when you’re hungry.”

You turned up your face, pretending to be disgusted by the compliment. “Anyway, loser. Where’s Tae and Jungkook?”

He laughed, taking out some food for himself to eat. “Those idiots missed the first bus because they were up all night playing video games. They thought Winter Break started today, not tomorrow.”

Sad to say you weren’t surprised by this at all, it definitely sounded like something they would do. But on the other hand, you couldn’t judge. After everything yesterday, you felt like you didn’t have school either.

You shook your head, giggling at the situation. “I still can’t believe you guys have to catch two buses before this one. You all live so far compared to everyone else.”

“This area is too nice for our company to afford, I think.” He forced a smirk as he bit into a beef jerky stick and looked around at the other students waiting.

You knew it wasn’t his intentions but now you felt slightly bad and it was only 7am. But you quickly waved it off and continued to eat when you saw Jimin look behind you.

“I think someone wants to speak to you,” he said.

For a second, you were confused. But when you turned around, you saw Jinsoul walking your way. You sighed and dismissed yourself from him as he said he would just go chat with Minho.

“Y/n,” Jinsoul spoke, now standing in front of you. “Can we talk?”

To be real, you didn’t want to but you knew it wouldn’t be fair to not hear her out. So you nodded, approving of this request.

As she ran her fingers through her blonde hair, she let out a small sigh. “I had no idea about any of the things Heejin said to you yesterday.”

“Yeah, right—”

”You gotta believe me!” she pleaded. “Not to brag or anything but keep in mind that Jimin was my friend first. The only reason you know him is because of me, y/n. Do you really think I would be okay with someone using you and him for some clout?”

You licked your lips, almost at a loss of words. She was proving some points with that one. Now you just felt like a fool.

“I hardly know those girls, I only just started talking to them the other day and that was only because they were with you.” She paused, staring at you for a second, then she grabbed your arm lightly. “I know this might be hard to believe, given our circumstances but... I kicked her out right after you left. Y/n, you’re one of my best friends, I would never be okay with someone doing that to you.”

You tilted your head, looking at her adoringly. “You still consider me a best friend?”

She chuckled, squeezing your hand. “We never stopped. We just went through a small bump because I got so caught up with...” Jinsoul was now looking at the pavement, a somber expression taken over her face and you instantly knew the reason behind that.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about him, are you okay?” You still couldn’t believe that Jacob would cheat on her. She liked him so much and as far as you were concerned, he liked her too. Everyone knew they were the cutest couple, him doing that was a complete shock.

“I wish I could say I was over him but it’s not that easy,” she replied.

“You’re strong and independent, you’ll be okay.”

“Eventually.” She looked back up at you and cracked a small smile. “Fortunately, I’ll be busy with training now so that’ll take my mind off of it.”

Just then, the school bus pulled up and you all hopped on and got ready for the school day. You knew you had some consoling to do so you linked arms with Jinsoul and sat on the bus with her as the two of you caught up on the ride to school.

~

Right before home room, Jimin insisted on walking with you to your locker when you realized you left your Chemistry textbook in there by accident but you assured him you’d only be a minute so he stayed behind.

As you exited the class, you began to put you hair in a ponytail when you were caught by surprise to see Heejin standing in front of your locker, clearly waiting for you.

You immediately rolled you eyes but continued to your destination to open your locker. “What do you want?” you asked, an annoyed tone hinted in your voice.

Heejin didn’t seem nervous. You can see that she looked apologetic but also, she wasted no time to start talking.

“I shouldn’t have told you any of that,” she spoke.

“You guys shouldn’t have done any of that, Heejin.”

She sucked her teeth. “It wasn’t me, y/n. And I’m not excusing anything. It was wrong, no matter what way I try to look at it. I just regret not telling you sooner.”

You shook your head, breaking eye contact from her to look for your book. “I don’t care, Heejin. It is what it is.” Your eyes laid upon your Chemistry 102 and as you grabbed it, you just realized that you were over it. Completely over it.

“Y/n, I was in a really bad mood the other night and I shouldn’t have snapped like that. I was mad at Kayla and was mad at you for defending her—”

“Which was childish,” you spoke, cutting her off as you now closed your locker. “Kayla is your best friend, Heejin. And I love Jinsoul but you can not let other people’s personal opinions about your best friend control you like that. Ever.”

Now she seemed regretful as she bit her bottom lip and clasped her hands together. “And I realize that now. I plan on talking to her. In the meantime, this is my apology, y/n. Please don’t be mad at me?”

You sighed, knowing you were going to have to face Kayla during class today as well. With so many confrontations happening today, you knew you had to persevere your energy and that started with forgiving people.

“I’m not mad at you, Heejin, I’m dissapointed. I just feel I need some space for a few hours... or days.”

With a nod, she agreed. “That’s understandable.”

That being said, you knew what you needed to do next. You walked back to home room and went right to your seat, turning to the woman whom sat directly behind you, still finishing a half eaten bagel.

“You need to talk to Heejin.”

“I know, she’s been acting really funny towards me lately?” She swallowed the bite that she was chewing before sitting up straighter and looking at you curiously. “Wait, is she acting weird with you too?”

You rolled your eyes. “Kayla, I’m not getting between this, just talk to her.”

She shrugged, not seeming too bothered. “I guess. Anyway, you wanna hang out tonight?”

It was very clear that Kayla had no idea about the situation at hand. And yeah, if you were upset at anyone, it was her. So, if anything, this put you in an even more annoyed state.

“Can’t. Ask Jimin, maybe he can spare you some company.”

At first, she looked lost but then she quickly shook it off, asking you if you really thought he would hang out with her.

Guessing that Jimin happened to hear his name being said, he turned back to look at you. Even though he wasn’t sure what you two were talking about, he had a feeling that you said something petty.

“Don’t,” he mouthed to you.

Sighing, you decided to take Jimin’s advice. Now definitely wasn’t the time or place and to top it off, it was just way too early for all of this. So you turned fully around just as your teacher walked in, prepared to start class.

~

By time lunch came around, you noticed you were one of the firsts in the cafeteria. As you stood in line, waiting to be served your tray, you felt an arm cling over your shoulder and you didn’t even need to look to know who it was. The scent of his godsent cologne gave it away, making you immediately blush.

“I think,” the voice to your left began to say, “we should start sitting together.”

You looked at Jaehyun, cocking your eyebrow conceitedly. “Someone moves fast,” you teased.

“Is that a ‘no’?” He grinned at you as you gently took his arm off you.

“Where in that sentence did you hear a ‘no’?”

“Nowhere, so I’m taking it as a yes.”

You giggled at his boldness but deep down inside, you felt flattered. “I take it you’re used to getting what you want.”

“You’d be suprised.”

You shook your head, opposing this statement. “Actually, I would not. And something about that makes me want to play hard to get.”

His jaw dropped in a joking manner as he tried to keep a poker face but couldn’t help but to let out a laugh. “You’re evil y/n.”

“And you’re lucky you’re cute.”

He playfully shoved you with his elbow and you followed by poking his dimple. The both of you smiled at each other sweetly as the line moved up.

“Y/n, we didn’t get to talk about that date.”

“Yeah, we didn’t,” you replied, suddenly getting butterflies as you thought about last night. “I had a good time.”

He smiled, relieved to hear you say that. “I’m glad you had a good time because I would like to take you on another one. A proper one... If that’s okay with you, I mean.”

A proper one. You weren’t sure what exactly he meant by that, as to you, that was a proper date. Especially considering your age and his schedule. Was the timing of the date messed up? Maybe, but he did what he could. And that alone, was the sweetest gesture.

You were about to respond but before you could even get the chance, you saw Jinsoul walking over to join you two in line as she looked at you both skeptically, arms folded in suspicion.

“Oh, hey—”

“What are you guys talking about?” Jinsoul cuts you off.

Jaehyun took a quick glance at you before looking back to Jinsoul. “I was just telling y/n that you guys should sit with us today.”

The line moved up.

“Sit with ‘us’? As in you, Jungkook, Eunah, Mingyu, Kyle,Hyeri and those other freaks?”

Jaehyun took the name calling very lightly as he cocked his head, chuckling at her. “Yes, me and those ‘other freaks’,” he confirmed.

“I’d rather choke on rocks,” she deadpanned before turning to you. “Y/n, if we sit there that means we’ve officially hit rock bottom, people are going to think we belong to a clique. Do you want to succumb to that?”

Jaehyun huffed. “You would know, little miss perfect, not too long ago you were sitting with us. And you know we’re not a clique, we’re friends with everybody. Come on, you say it like we’re not all still friends with you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Is Jacob there?”

Jaehyun sighed, seeming to suddenly remember that night. “No, he’s been sorta M.I.A. He’s been telling people he’s sick to get out of things.”

“Once a liar, always a liar,” Jinsoul scoffed, shaking her head in disgust. “Whatever, it’s up to y/n.”

You smiled, shaking your head in approval. “We should!”

“Then I guess we have no choice.”

After taking your trays and paying for your lunches, you all began to walk to Jaehyun’s table where some of his friends already sat, as you noticed Taehyung sitting at your usual table, distracted on his phone as he waited for the others to arrive.

You hadn’t seen Taehyung in a while and knew this was your chance to finally chat with him.

You slowly stopped walking as you got closer and closer to passing him. Jaehyun and Jinsoul looked back at you, curiously. “I’ll be there in a minute, you guys.”

Upon hearing this, Taehyung looked up and the other two shrugged this off and kept it moving. You looked over at Tae, whom was now smiling at you as you approached him completely. “Taehyung,” you greeted.

“Wow, she’s talking to me,” he jokes.

“I know you’re not speaking. I haven’t even gotten so much as a text message from you, this goes both ways!”

He pursed his lips together before blowing out an exhausted breath. “Well, I don’t know if you know but we’ve been preparing for a comeback. I know it’s not an excuse but—”

You chuckled upon hearing the news of this. “Wait, comeback? Oh my god, when?”

He grinned, shrugging a shoulder. “We’re not exactly sure yet, we’ll know officially in a few weeks the comeback date.” He raised an eyebrow. “Jimin hasn’t told you?”

“No, he didn’t.”

Taehyung let out a chuckle before looking back at Jaehyun’s table. He paused in thought, momentarily. “Why aren’t you with your friends?”

“I’m not gonna beat around the bush. I thought it’d be nice if you and I have a little chat about what happened. You’re always disappearing, I don’t know when we’ll get this chance again.”

He sighed and by the looks of it, you could tell he saw this coming. “You’re right,” he replied, nodding. “We should talk about it.”

You sat your plate on the table and took a seat next to him.

“Look,” he started. “I’m sorry I kissed you like that. In my head, I was mad at myself for ignoring you for so long that when we finally talked things out, I couldn’t hold back my feelings. But in reality, it shouldn’t have happened.”

“Your feelings?” you questioned, to which he then cocked his head, looking away as you saw him poke his tongue in his cheek.

“You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?” he asked, a grin on his face.

You started smiling, teasingly, as you realized what he meant.

“Yeah, I, uh...” Tae ruffled his black hair, getting slightly nervous before looking back at you. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t have a small crush on you, yn.”

You froze for a second, trying not to burst out into a fit of laughter but you couldn’t help it. As you laughed, Taehyung joined in, blushing deeply.

You weren’t stupid, you had your suspicions the day he asked you on that “date”, him kissing you just confirmed it. “I kinda knew,” you admitted. “I’d also be lying if I said I didn’t kind of have one on you too.”

He looked you dead in the eyes. “I knew, also. You’re not the only one who sucks at hiding their feelings.”

Now you were the one blushing.

“But if it makes you feel any better, I’ve been actually seeing someone. So you don’t need to worry about our past getting in the way of our friendship.”

He gave you a reassuring smile but all you could do was drop your jaw in response. Seeing someone? “Whhaaattt?”

He chuckled. “She doesn’t go to either of our schools and she’s not an idol or anything of that sort. But I actually like her. I’m gonna give it a little more time as of right now but then I’ll bring her around to meet you and everyone else.”

You pouted in happiness at this news. Taehyung was an amazing person and he deserved to be happy and loved.

“So going forward,” he continued, “I don’t want things to be awkward between us. I don’t feel weird and I hope you don’t either.”

You shook your head eagerly. “Of course I don’t, Taehyung! And I’m happy for you. We’re still gonna be besties. I love you, you know this.” You gently gripped his arm to let him knew you meant what you said.

“I love you, too.” He stifled a small laugh. “It’s good we’re both over each other. Plus, I think Jimin—”

“You think I what?”

You both turned to find Jimin walking up towards you guys, Jacob, surprisingly, following right behind him. You rolled your eyes.

“Aish, nothing,” Tae waves off.

Just then, you heard your name being called. You turned your head to the source of the voice, which was no other than Jinsoul’s, of course. She looked annoyed. Must have been Jacob’s presence being there. You couldn’t blame her.

“What’s the point of being over there when we agreed to sit over here today?”she yelled.

You sighed, standing up to get ready and go back over. As you began to pick up your tray, you suddenly remembered something.

“Oh yeah,” you started. “So my parents are going to Japan next week. My fathers company is having a conference there and my mom decided to tag along, I decided to stay behind. Anyway, I’m gonna have a small sleepover with my close friends, nothing crazy. Think you guys will be able to come?”

Jimin and Tae both looked at each other then looked back at you and simultaneously shrugged. “I don’t see why not,” Jimin spoke.

“We’ll be there,” Tae added. “Hopefully. We have to check our schedule but we’ll most likely be there.”

“Okay.” Then you looked at Jacob, who was shamelessly hiding his face from the side that Jinsoul could see him from. “Oh, and Jacob.” He looked up at you. “Just to clarify, you’re not invited. I’m sure you knew but I just had to make it clear.”

You gave him a smart ass smile as he squirmed in his seat before you turned on your heels to join Jinsoul, Jaehyun and his friends.

PART 15

A/N: bruh i can't believe it took me this long to update sjldjs my bad I've been so busy working everyday. capitalism is sickening! I'm at the point where i really dont think I'm cut out to work like someone pls make me a house wife at this point, i’m begging! skfslkfs anyway lots of small confrontations this chapter, let me know what you guys think, ily!

#jung jaehyun #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun x reader #jimin #taehyung #jimin fluff #taehyung fluff #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #bts #nct #nct 127 #Loona #heejin #jinsoul #the boyz jacob #the boyz #mingyu #jungkook #jaehyun angst #jimin angst #taehyung angst #kpop #bts reactions #bts scenarios #nct reactions #nct scenarios #loona reactions #kpop reactions #fanfic

[mrlnsfrt]

Is This Love?

It is said that once in the old days in an Eastern city a poor old beggar, his body shrunken and sick and covered with sores was sent to one of the great hospitals, and after being there for some days, was taken to the operating room. In those days they did not have anesthesia, as they have now, and the patient could hear all the preparations for the ordeal. 

So before the surgeon began his work on this poor old wreck of a human being, he turned to the young medical students who were in attendance and using scholarly Latin, said to them, 

"Let's perform an experiment on this worthless body."

He thought his language wouldn't be understood, but this old beggar was once a great scholar himself. Although he had drifted away into liquor and sin, and had gone down the primrose path until he was just a wreck, he still understood Latin. So he lifted himself on one elbow there in the operating room and said, in perfect Latin,

"Yet for this worthless body, Jesus Christ has died. 

And so, what might often seem to us like a worthless body, a worthless person, a worthless, shattered, character; has infinite value. Because for this worthless one, this worthless life, Jesus Christ has died. And that puts an infinite worth on every human being. A human being is infinitely valuable, and this includes you.

Is this love?

But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners. - Romans 5:8 New Living Translation

God’s love for us is beyond our ability to comprehend. I have heard some Christians even criticize those who they perceive to overemphasize God’s love towards us. But I often wonder how can we fail to talk about what the Bible itself emphasizes? The Bible is the story of God desiring to save humans. God initiated the process, God paid the price, God offers us the rewards for free.

For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. - Romans 6:23 English Standard Version

So I don’t think it is possible for anyone to ever talk too much about the love of God nor do I believe anyone will ever exhaust this topic. What I do wish to explore in this post is the ramifications the God’s love has and ought to have in the lives of the believers.

Is This Love?

Since God loves me even though I am imperfect. If Jesus died for me while I was still a sinner. How should this impact how I view myself? How much value does my life have? Imperfect as I may be, Jesus thought I was to die for. This should have a profound impact on how I think about myself, how I view myself and on how I feel about myself. After all Jesus tells us to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. I wonder how someone who hates herself could manage to love her neighbor.

"The second is this, 'YOU SHALL LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOR AS YOURSELF.' There is no other commandment greater than these." - Mark 12:31 New American Standard Bible

Here is another thing that came to mind as I was thinking about God’s great love for me. God cares much more about my heart than He does about my appearance.

But the LORD said to Samuel, “Don’t judge by his appearance or height, for I have rejected him. The LORD doesn’t see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” - 1 Samuel 16:7 New Living Translation

What I find fascinating is how easy it is for us to care much more about our appearance than our hearts/character. After all, everyone can see my appearance and make a snap judgment. Only people who really know me well are aware of the content or quality of my character. But this also causes me to wonder. Why do I care more about the snap judgment of those who know me least, than about what those who know me best think about me.

Allow me to elaborate. My spouse, my kids, my family members, my closest friends, those who are in close contact with me, and/or those who are often in contact with me, have to deal with my character. They have to deal with my heart. My appearance matters less to them. If my tie is not perfectly straight or if part of my hair is a bit out of place, they will not think differently of me, because they have a knowledge of me that goes deeper than my appearance.

When I invest in my character, I am investing in those people who are closest to me, the ones I love most and who love me the most. When I am honest, dependable, loving, forgiving, kind, compassionate, those closest to me benefit the most. Although strangers will also benefit from those qualities. Also, those who admire you for your character, for your heart, will feel much more strongly about you then if their opinion of you was made up mostly due to your appearance.

Is This Love?

I have a daughter, she is 6 years old. I want to empower her. I want her to feel safe and confident in my love for her. I also want her to know that her heart, her character, matter much more than her appearance. I want her to invest her time, thoughts, and energy into developing who she is, and not waste time and money on improving merely her appearance. I don’t mean to say that her appearance does not matter. Appearances do matter, but I like to differentiate between accentuating natural beauty and modifications that end up being the equivalent of lies.

Smile, a smile looks good on you. Care for your body, keep it clean and healthy! You know what’s really good for your skin? Staying well hydrated. It is also great for your hair and eyes and nails. You know what looks great on you? A good night of sleep. Exercise, eating lots of fruits and veggies, all these things contribute to bringing your greatest potential to actuality. You become your better self when you invest in your health. Now I know it takes more effort, it takes more time, it won’t be a quick fix that you can do yourself after a short youtube tutorial.

I can see the appeal of just wanting buying precious metals and hanging them from new holes you perforated on your body. I can see how it is much faster to paint your face than to make the effort to change your lifestyle. I can understand how immediately looking healthier can be more appealing than the long journey to a healthier you. So you can choose to buy the precious metals to hang from your body, you can paint your face, and you can look different. But you are still the same, and at some point you will have to remove those things, and does your identity hold when all those things are removed? Have you learned to accept and love yourself? Or do you feel the need to cover up, hide, mask, distract, in order to have the courage to face the world?

I want my daughter to know that her natural beauty is more than enough. That the color and texture of her hair is just fine. the shape of her eyes, the color of her eyes, the length of her eyelashes, the shape of her nose and chin, are all fine. She is of infinite value. Her value is not connected to her appearance but rather to her character. She is of great value because Jesus died for her. People love her because of who she is. She can be brave, and kind, and refuse to give up, and these qualities add to who she is. These qualities make up who she is, as opposed to cosmetics that cause her to hide and contribute to her becoming unsure and unhappy with her natural self. I want her to be confident in who she is in Jesus and not how well she compares to arbitrary and unrealistic standards of physical beauty.

There’s a recent article by Samantha Murphy Kelly, posted on CNN Business entitled “Plastic surgery inspired by filters and photo editing apps isn't going away.” On this article she discusses how an increasing number of people have an unrealistic obsession with correcting subjective flaws. This article also points out how people continue to make more unnecessary changes to their appearance which may cause them to lose perspective of what they really look like.

Some, like public relations executive Karla Barbosa, are proudly embracing the concept. She recently broadcast her treatment of a gold microinfusion facial -- a procedure that uses small needles to reduce the size of pores and with the intention of making the skin look airbrushed -- to her more than 31,000 followers.

"It's like a real-life filter for your face," she captioned the clip. "Seriously. GLASS SKIN." As Barbosa explained to CNN Business, "If you want to tweak a photo a bit more to feel a bit more confident ... or get a facial or botox filler to make you feel more confident ... that's up to the person and how they feel." - CNN Business

Self-acceptance

In order for me to properly love myself, I need to came to terms with who I am. Not trying to hide, not trying to make superficial changes, but seeing myself for who I am and accepting reality. The challenge is that not only is there a temptation regarding my appearance, there are also many things regarding my character, my heart, who I am at my core that I dislike. When I take time to examine myself it becomes clear to me that I disappoint myself much more often than I could possibly disappoint anyone else. My natural tendency is to refuse to forgive myself, refuse to accept myself, and demand that I improve myself. “I will grab my own bootstraps and lift myself out of this mess.” In this process, which is doomed to fail, I also alienate those around me, I push people away because they too are flawed, they too need to improve and so I push my personal unhappiness upon them, lest they experience joy in their current state of imperfection.

So I turn to self-help books, apps, gadgets, gismos, possessions, substances, surgical procedures and anything else that promises me a quick fix and that will help me feel better or stop caring, even if just briefly. But I do not feel comfortable turning to Jesus. Because when I cannot accept myself, I become almost angry at Him for accepting someone so pitiable as myself. How could anyone love me? And so I begin to doubt even the gospel.

Forgiven much = love much

When I realize who I really am, God’s love grows exponentially. God’s grace becomes even more amazing. When I realize that Jesus died for me, the worst sinner of them all. It changes everything!

This is a trustworthy saying, and everyone should accept it: “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners”—and I am the worst of them all. - 1 Timothy 1:15 New Living Translation

I realize how terrible I am, and that Jesus died for me and suddenly I feel deeper love and appreciation and amazement at God. I feel like singing praises to God. I desire to spend time with Him. I want to pray. I want to study the Bible. I want to share with others.

There is a story found in Luke 7:36-50 that illustrates this. I strongly recommend reading the whole story but main idea is found in verse 47.

Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.”  - Luke 7:47 ESV

The insight I gained from this story is that as we become aware of our sins, our imperfections, all the times we fall short of the glory of God, we also experience greater love for God for His love and willingness to forgive us. When I am hiding my sins and blaming others for my shortcomings I feel like a pretty good person. I feel like it should not be too difficult for God to save me. I compare myself with those around me and feel superior. I build an armor based on works and refuse to truly examine myself. I stop confessing sins because doing so makes me feel vulnerable. I prefer to live a superficial life that looks Christian from a distance, but I refuse to delve into the vulnerability and messiness that true dedication to Christ demands. Looking at myself without the “makeup,” without the “jewelry,” (literal or symbolic) is painfully humbling, but on the other side of it is a deeper more authentic walk with Christ and the true experience of salvation. Not based on anything I do, but wholly dependent on what Christ did and does for me.

Is this love?

Out of this authentic experience with Christ and His great love for me comes a deep desire to serve Him and demonstrate my love for Him.

If you love Me, you will keep My commandments. - John 14:15 Berean Literal Bible

Finally, I find myself serving God out of a deep and sincere desire to do so. Not out of fear, not only out of a sense or responsibility and duty, but out of a joyful, grateful, thankful heart. I find myself obeying because I love and not because I fear. I want to do my absolute best, I want to go further, I want o to do more, out of love. I fall in love with Christ and it changes absolutely everything in my life.

Now I face life from a place of deep love for Jesus, ready and willing to love my neighbor as myself. I am finally willing to be vulnerable for the sake of the gospel, because when I am weak, then I am strong.

Therefore I am content with weaknesses, with insults, with troubles, with persecutions and difficulties for the sake of Christ, for whenever I am weak, then I am strong. - 2 Corinthians 12:10 NET Bible

#love #practical #life

[misscrawfords]

Rose! How do you feel about Emma and its various adaptations?

Sorry for the delay in answering - blame the school trip!

I love Emma. I wrote my dissertation partly on it (also on Northanger Abbey, Rob Roy and St Ronan’s Well) and while I loved it before I loved it even more after studying it. All of Austen’s novels are extremely well plotted, but Emma might just be the best. It’s like a detective novel in that respect (and has been described as such on multiple occasions) because you can pick up on clues to what’s really going on all the way through but on a first read, you don’t see them. Miss Bates unintentionally reveals details that can be explained by Frank and Jane’s secret relationship but they are hidden in her verbal overloading. Emma’s own thoughts betray her unknown interest in Mr. Knightley, and his actions point to his love for Emma. And so on. 

Jane Austen is also being radical in her use of literary conventions and genre in Emma (as she is in basically all her novels). She has the tightest mystery plot ever written at this point hidden directly inside a novel that sticks strictly to the conventions of romantic comedy. She even goes overboard with it - successfully navigating three couples to appropriate happy endings. However, within that solid structure, she plays with expectations and conventions in a subtle way and this is where I get really excited.

First we have Emma herself, a heroine “nobody but myself will like”. Austen clearly loved questioning and pushing conventions of who was allowed to be a heroine. Her previous novel, Mansfield Park, gave us Fanny who most people at the time found disappointing after Elizabeth Bennet and modern readers (unjustly IMO) hate, and she followed Emma with Anne Elliot who was far too old to be a romantic heroine according to contemporary standards. In the middle we have Emma Woodhouse, a meddling snob. She’s got a lot in common with Mr. Darcy actually and her character development in terms of recognising the bad behaviour she is guilty of and the prejudice she feels towards those of a lower social status is pretty similar. But while Darcy and his character development is held up as beautiful and heroic and romantic, Emma is frequently condemned as dislikable. I do wonder why that could be… Personally, I love Emma. She’s clever and shrewd and funny and, honestly, is there anyone who doesn’t think Miss Bates is annoying and doesn’t want to throw a tantrum at the prospect of being upstaged by Mrs. Elton? Are you, dear reader, such a paragon of rational enlightenment and charitable feeling? Would you instantly see through Frank Churchill and resist his flirtations? Would you be best friends with Jane Fairfax and not be just a little bit jealous of her and how much Mr. Knightley everyone seems to admire her? Have you never said something cutting and regretted it? Are you perfect, reader, ARE YOU? Come on. Emma is one of us. She messes up, she judges badly, she says cringeworthy stuff in inappropriate situations, she gives bad advice - she’s human. And she deals with it without losing her positive outlook and she does grow, enough to “deserve” her happy ending (though that’s a loaded concept) but not so much it’s unrealistic. And what makes her likeable through it all are that her intentions are good. Emma is not a bad person who has to become good and “be redeemed”. She is a fundamentally warm and caring person who needs to have some bad habits of thought and action corrected by guidance and experience. Emma’s intentions and understanding are good from the beginning.

Emma’s also interesting because, yes, she does change, but if you put her in the context of the genre she inhabits, she also gets to keep a lot. Basically, in another novel, Emma would have to pay significant penance for her bad behaviour before she would be allowed to marry Mr. Knightley and she would have to prove that she is a changed woman and is absolutely not going to continue meddling and will be a good and submissive wife. Usually this also involves giving up the dangerous reading of novels which have led her astray. Several points. Firstly, Emma is not a novel reader, she is a novel writer. Emma is described by various critics as “an avatar of Austen the author” and if you read the novel through the prism of Emma being an author, things become really fascinating. Beautiful, illegitimate Harriet Smith is the heroine of Emma’s novel and obviously Emma-as-author wants to discover that she is really the long lost daughter of Somebody and give her a socially advantageous marriage. Emma’s matchmaking attempts are the workings of a novelist plotting with characters. Emma is creating her own world. This is radical stuff, in a society where female novelists were looked down upon. Emma has the means and independence and cleverness to write a story of her own - and she is comically bad at it. This is one way in which Austen plays with genre. Secondly, it is not at all clear that Emma does give up her matchmaking at the end of the novel. Austen is coy when she floats this suggestion about Mrs. Weston’s daughter: “[Emma] would not acknowledge that it was with any view of making a match for her, hereafter, with either of Isabella’s sons”. Does this suggest that maybe Emma isn’t as cured as she should be? Thanks to Austen’s levels of irony it’s impossible to tell, which is the point. Thirdly, Emma is the only Austen heroine to have real financial and social clout. Emma really does rule Highbury and at the end of the novel, instead of being subsumed into her husband’s world, he in fact moves in with her (however temporarily). This is practically the Regency equivalent of her keeping her name after marriage. She and Mr. Knightley are social equals and she does not leave her home or her sphere of influence when she marries. The only other heroine this would be true of is, interestingly enough, Fanny Price. But Mansfield Park is notoriously inward looking and Fanny’s ending allows her to truly become a Bertram which is what she wanted all along for better or worse. And Fanny and Edmund’s social status and influence are much less significant that Knightley and Emma’s are.

Something else to bear in mind when thinking about Emma’s character is that, despite her social power and wealth, she also lives an extremely confined and limited life. She is essentially a carer for her stultifying and claustrophobic father. She has never left the environs of Highbury. She is surrounded by people who jump to her every command and shower her in praise, both deserved and undeserved. The only person who criticises her is also in love with her. The only eligible men in her world before the arrival of Frank Churchill are her brother-in-law who is 16 years older than her, and the obsequious vicar. Yes, she can remain a spinster but even a rich spinster cannot maintain the sort of power she currently holds when faced with a married woman like Mrs. Elton (who is a real threat to her), but her alternatives are bleak. A woman of her rank and fortune should be having a London season and meeting other young people of her rank and forming external connections. Because of her father’s passive control over her, Emma has none of these opportunities. Even Fanny Price travels more and meets more people than Emma does. Yes, Emma Woodhouse is handsome, rich and clever and has had very little to vex her, but I suspect that is probably Emma’s own view of her life and it is not necessarily accurate.

Okay, this post is already far too long so I’ll end my discussion of the novel here. There’s also a lot that could be said about Jane and Frank, Emma and Mr. Knightley’s relationship and more, but Emma is clearly the most important and, honestly, the most in need of defence!

Onto the adaptations, and I’ll try to be brief:

1. The Gwyneth Paltrow film. Jeremy Northan is divine though his hair could be better and he’s not my favourite Mr. Knightley, even if I do have a massive crush on JN. Harriet Smith is a not particularly attractive redhead which is… weird. Frank Churchill is Ewan McGregor but he has appalling hair so IDK what was going on there - such a missed opportunity. Gwyneth Paltrow as Emma is a casting disgrace and I honestly can’t bear to watch this film because every time she is on screen I cringe. The producers were more interested in the aesthetic than making a good adaptation. My grandma hated it. Enough said.

2. The Kate Beckinsale film. Honestly, I don’t dislike anything about this except that I wish it were a mini-series and the proposal scene is a bit… eh. But I think it manages to stay true to the book in a feature film and I love Kate Beckinsale’s Emma. She has the right mix of liveliness and arrogance for me. Mark Strong is a stern Mr. Knightley but he’s not too handsome. Frank Churchill is perfect in this adaptation. Controversially, this is my favourite period adaptation.

3. The Romola Garai miniseries. I love lots about this mainly because the length allows everything to be expanded suitably. Johnny Lee Miller is the best Knightley by far. The Eltons are fabulous. Frank and Jane’s relationship gets more time dedicated to it. The Westons and Bateses are great. Harriet Smith is dumbed down too much - she’s naive and not too bright but this adaptation makes her practically an idiot, almost as much a disservice as the 2005 P&P film’s character assassination of Bingley, though physically the actress is perfect and she’s very likeable. And I really do appreciate what they were trying to do with Emma. It was clearly an informed choice to make her bubbly and often silly and a chosen interpretation of the text and I respect that - better that than wilful misinterpretation which some adaptations go in for. I fundamentally disagree with it - whatever her faults, I don’t think Emma is silly and giggly and I struggle to believe this Emma is a 21 year old woman secure in her position as a social leader. Her mannerisms often come across very modern - her little waves, giggles and posture and this is very irritating because Romola Garai has done some fantastic period acting (Daniel Deronda, The Hour etc.) and these mannerisms aren’t consistent across the cast. I love Romola Garai and I think it’s an interesting choice of direction, but not one that rings true to how I see the character though.

4. Clueless. Clearly the best adaptation of Emma ever made. We all know it.

5. Emma Approved. Only seen a bit of it and didn’t warm to it. Should probably give it another go. Why did they change Knightley’s name to Alex? What the hell is wrong with George!?!?

Anyway, here are my thoughts on Emma. Hope they’re at least somewhat interesting. There is nothing I like better than rambling on about Jane Austen! :-) Thank you for giving me the opportunity!

#Emma #Jane Austen #Emma Woodhouse #literature #books

[itssophiachua]

The kid before the internet happened

Lately, I’ve been watching a lot of beauty vlogs and I came across videos of models telling stories about how ugly or fat they felt the whole time in their career. They were pressured so much by the internet and even the people they work for to look skinny and beautiful. I’ve seen other videos of influencers, who I look up to, being caught face tuning or photoshopping their photos and posting them on instagram. They make their bodies look incredibly, and unrealistically skinny. Sometime they change the shape of their lips, nose, jaws, boobs, waist, and head (?). 

No, this is not about me making fun of them for doing those things. Personally, I don’t think it’s a big deal when people do cosmetic procedures or when they photoshop or face tune their photos. If anything, I understand that their image is their job or they simply want to look and feel beautiful. Besides that, they also have so many followers and so many people constantly telling them how they look, making them feel insecure so they try to push for perfection in order to silence their critics. If anything, the videos I’ve seen have made me truly realise the gravity of what I’ve been hearing for a long time, which is the unrealistic beauty standards we now have. 

When I was in high school, I remember all the girls wanting to be as perfect as those influencers on instagram or Tumblr. We all wanted the perfect skinny body, beautiful long hair, perfect brows, etc. Since i didn’t have them, I remember how ugly I felt that time. I didn’t feel pretty, and a lot of girls judged others for not being as pretty as the western models they saw on the internet. I kept hearing before that the social media portrays an unrealistic beauty standard, but I didn’t really know how much they affected people, including myself. 

I can honestly say now that I love myself a lot more than I did before. However, there are times when I see models on instagram, I catch myself thinking why don’t I have the same lips, nose, or body as them? Sometimes, I even think about changing some parts of myself to look as beautiful as them. This eventually leads to me thinking whether or not I truly am "beautiful”. 

Seeing these videos made me realise that social media, the photoshops, and the unrealistic images posted online truly can affect how people think. Moreover, this also made me wonder how this may affect others. It made me worry about how kids nowadays, or heck, how my future children would feel if they don’t look the same as these models or influencers who photoshop themselves and say its au naturel. Besides this, one of the things that a lot of people nowadays focus on is getting that perfect picture for their instagram instead of experiencing life and being sincerely happy. 

Again, this is not to hate. It’s perfectly fine to get cosmetic procedures, to photoshop your faces to look good, and to take photos. But always remember how powerful the internet is, how accessible this is to the children and, who your audience is. We have experienced feeling ugly because we don’t look like one of the Kardashians, but I hope that now we’re more aware about how photos can affect others. So I guess, it’s true that you have to “think before you click”. 

I came across a video of a famous youtuber who had done 9 cosmetic procedures on herself. There was this video where she mentioned a quote of Charles Bukowski, 

“Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?”

That was one of the most sincere videos I’ve seen of her. She explained how despite being beautiful, and rich, she was still sad. She mentioned how she’s been obsessed with looking perfect just like how the girls are on instagram, making her forget about what truly matters. She came across this video on youtube talking about how social media is ruining our lives, and it made her realise that she has forgotten who she truly was before the internet. In this video, she reminded her viewers to never lose sight on what really matter in life like your family. They will for sure be there to support you when you lose all your followers or when the world goes against you. She also challenged her audience to remember who they were, or even try to think about who they would’ve been if there was no internet. 

This video of hers reminded me how important it is to take breaks from social media, to stay rooted to who you are and the real life that we live in, and to basically live. Live your life, love yourself, and be the most beautiful you inside and out, not for the sake of posting them on instagram and showing others how perfect your life is. Simply just for you to be happy. :) 

Love, Sophia. <3 

#BeautyTalks SocialMedia

[shy-petty-weirdo]

Can I go on a Rant about Netflix's Tall Girl? *LONG POST*

*Note* The charator's names are not the same as in the movie, as the movie is unclear about what their names are, I even had subtitles on, and honestly can not tell you their names, non-the-less how to spell them

*Note 2* I am bad at spell, don't have my glasses and it's late, so bare with the middle-school spelling(also the color and the spacing are to not only help me keep track of what I'm writing, but anyone who has a hard time reading long things)

*Note 3* SPOILERS duh

Okay, so I am in no way 'tall' I'm barley the hight to be an astronaut, so I don't have much say in 'how it's so hard to be a tall girl'

Non the less I thought this would be a fun movie to watch with my best friend, who is a year younger than me, but taller, (The only friends I have that aren't taller than me, are the children I watch)

We are both in highschool, and have watch Netflix's orignal teen romcoms before, and loved the ones we watch, little cheesy, but still a good watch for weekly movie night.

I knew from the description of the movie before it came out, it was going to be an overload of cheesy-ness, but it seemed like a good laugh, like the kid of movies one watches for the pure stupid 'hello fellow kids' stuff.

The opening scene itself was something we thought was funny, from the color coded library (I use to volunteer at a library, so I def noticed it) to the fact that the girl who is suppose to be torrmentted for being tall, isn't reconized by not one, but TWO boys who go to HER school until she stands up.

We thought this was just cheesy fun, and her older brother even sat down to watch some of the begining, just to see if they asked her, what the weather was like up there, which they did, atleast five time, and was almost the only thing the 'bullies' actually bullied her about

I want to be clear I am extremly ANTI-bully, and so is my friends, her brother got bullied when he was young, and would get beat up, and even among their younger sibblings, bullying is NOT allowed.

So, there is some stuff behind when I say, Tall Girl wasn't really bullied, but more so teased. Now I know how small comments can over take someone's life, but the way that Tall Girl put it, she was more of a bully to her self than anyone else.

The 'iconic' scene of Tall Girl walking down the hall had us all stop, while my friend's brother pointed out she was literally friends with some one who is a minority (and later shown to be pressured at home to follow a strict life path and not one they want to) And my friend explained how, if Tall Girl wanted to make her life seem worse via shoe size, that she should have gone with a different brand, since Nike makes their shoes bigger, (Now that I think of it, this is def product placement)

Through out the movie Tall girl drags her friends through the mud, and yet plays the victem card the entire time, even though there are bigger issues that could be addressed, such as, the competing her sister does, and the pressure that is placed on her to be more, The social differenaces for the Transfer Student, the Beauty standards placed on girls, ANYTHING ELSE.

The way Tall Girl acts is nothing like any teen I have ever seen, it felt like a terrible 80s teen movie that died before production. I understand that they were trying to 'break' the teen romcom 'code' by making the mean girl not a dumb blonde, and have Tall Girl not get back with Transfer Student at the end, but they ended up with the exact opposite.

Most teens are not looking for a S.O.

Being tall is not a major hinder on a highschooler's life (espically being 6ft 1.5 inches)

Physical things that can not be changed are not something that most people even notice, non the less complain about on OTHER PEOPLE

Teens are more concerned about the STATE OF THE WORLD than any of the 2d personallity traits given to the main character

The most realistic/likeable character(s) were

1. Girl with glasses

2. Boy in the background of the scene in the science class balancing a pencil on his face

3.Tall Girl's father, who does everything he could think of to make his daughter happy and "normal"

4. Tall Girl's O.T. who was actually cultured in the world, really liked the Transfer Student, didn't know about him cheating, tried to be a good wing-girl to her best friend, even after he said that Tall Girl was hotter

5.Dudly(?) Crate-Boy who despite being possesive over Tall Girl in the movie scene, tells Transfer Student to do the right thing, which not just is so Tall Girl won't get the guy, but so Transfer Student doen't lead on the Multi-lingual Girl, which is solid advise anyway

6. Maya Hart, aka Tall Girl's sister. Through-out the movie we see Maya continusly working hard to acheive her personal goals, and simply try to be a good big sister. Though her advice to Tall Girl to fight for Transfer Student isn't the kind a rational person would give to someone, who just kissed a person in a relationship, we can really see how hard Maya is working towards her goals, and how much she wants to help her sister, as seen in the I Liked It When You Needed Me scene

7. Even though Pink hair girl doen't get a personallity in the script besides being into fashion and being an awesome amazing friend, She deserves better by Tall Girl, and her out burst at Tall Girl throwing her-self a pitty party, even though Tall Girl has all the tools to succesed in life, all the support, and everything she needs, except for a romance that, even Tall Girl's sister said was doomed from the begining

The begining of the film, gave off B-rated fun, but slowly moved down hill, as if this was the rock that us teens are forced to push up hill in this afterlife.

Tall Girl, herself slowly but steadly became more and more toxic, not only to herself, as she was in the start, but to her friends, family and classmates too.

At the start, her toxicity was contained in self pitty, which would have been a wonderful plot for the movie, being a tall inscure highschool girl, who finds her place in life, with her friends ad family, learning to love herself. Unfortunitly that's not what happened.

Tall Girl puts all of her energy and worth into finding a boyfriend, and I can't stress this enough, WHILE IN HIGHSCHOOL! I know everyone has heard it before, but the highschool years, though they seem all important, aren't that important, Humans are living into their 100s now, 4 akward years, where people just like you are trying to surive aren't going to make as big of a dent in your life as they use to make. Her friends, would probably be the only thing that she would take past the highschool years, if she wasn't so toxic

Tall Girl reminded me very much so of early 2010-2013, which may not seem like a long time ago, but it is almost 2020. Many of the traits Tall Girl showed are traits that many people stopped exibiting in 2016.

The only emotional smart charactors are Glasses and Dad,

While it IS a teen romcom, and so one would expect many 'crazy' ideas and things, This doesn't mean modern teens can't tell what toxic behavior is. I know the closer one is to the person, the hard the traits are to reconize, but just being aware of other people, and a general nice person one can see where the toxic traits are, even, if not more so in ones-self

The only time this movie seemed aware of the differance between the real world and the movie was the mother stating that her hardships in highschool was turning down all the boys that asked her to prom, and then Tall Girl rolls her eyes, and there is a very obvisous nod to the fact that being to popular is not really that much of a hardship to face

Many people often look on the 'Crate-Boy uses the crate to kiss Tall Girl' scene as romantic, and I will not tell them they are wrong for believing so, as everyone has their own perspective. I for one though saw it as Tall Girl still getting undeserved attention, and what she wanted.

The Prom scene is a prime example of this. Tall Girl doesn't like that Multi-Lingul Girl and Transfer Student are prom king & queen, and so, instead of letting them have their 15 sec of fame, she goes on stage, unanounced, Which I believe is not allowed at most proms, and make a speech, (usally these speaches show how the main charactor has changed for the better, and will not be forced to be what they are not)

This speach how ever, comes across as an ego boost, espically if one keeps in mind the very first scene where the two boy in her school didn't even know who she was. She goes on stage an makes a speach about how she is impowered by being tall and no one will make her feel bad about it.

This on paper sounds like it would be a real turning point, except THE MAIN CHARACTOR DOESN'T LEARN

Tall Girl faces no conciqueses for pushing her best friend (pink hair) to the side and using her as an emotional punching bag, she 'gets the guy' that she treated the EXACT SAME WAY SHE DIDN'T want to be treated, and nor is her self-pitty problem solved

All in all, this movie was insufferable, unrealistic, made my friend and I root for the 'villians' and side charators, and somehow make a film where it would be better off with the main charator being a side charator

I would really love to meet the writers and see the teens they are around, to see how they possible could have though such a toxic thing was okay to show to teens, espically the way they try to frame it as 'Goals'

***This is in no way against the actors/actresses that played in the film, nor those who helped backstage, (ex makeup, sets, etc) this is more aimed towards the writers of the script, and whoever thought that this was something good for teens.

#tall girl #netflix #teenager #teen #romcom #romance #movies #movienight #movie night #teen drama #review #long reads #long post #adhd friendly #rant #sorry for the rant #rants n rambles

[nvrissa]

hello laid ease and furries ( u know who u are )......hahaha....are u ready for this ? zimzalabim ! my name is xan ( she/her pronouns ) and my laptop has been broken for a good 3 years now i have to use an onscreen keyboard so if u see me typing for 20000 years on discord only to send u a single sentence u know whats up x JSDBJWBJW here is the intro....im really winging this no one call me out for that WOOO....tw: medication, mental health, body image ? perhaps just to be safe <3

ok ! so im not gonna talk too much abt family stuff bc yuno and i are doing the collab of the century here and art takes time people ! JSBDJBWDJW but so u get a good idea...i will write a little abt it lets get it 

so the kwons were two of the biggest faces in hollywood ( and tbh they are still considered icons / hollywood royalty no matter how old they get they stay #Relevant ) think bradgelina ! literally everyone knows who the kwons if u dont u probably live under a rock /: 

their parents are very into the fame thing...so when it came to their kids ( nari and wolfe ) they SUPER pushed the famous life onto them, really expecting both of them to be just as obsessed and enamored by the public. idk if u guys ever say that vid of gigi and bella hadid before they were huge were their mom was pressuring them both to get into modeling and to stay skinny and to be stars etc....it was kinda like that !

so narissa, being the first born, really just internalized that shit...like imagine being told ever since u were a baby that fame and status and ur last name are wildly important and not being able to remember a time when u werent being watched by cameras / a third party ( the public ) bc that was her life ! nari has....no experience as to what life is like without cameras and without having to create this image of herself that ppl are gonna be into 

obviously that’s NOT normal....and it had it’s toll on her /: as a kid she grew up so fast like u know those kids that seem so mature and wise for their age ? that was nari. she always had two versions of herself: inside nari vs outside nari. she was so good at being good just bc she knew what stuff to express and what stuff to keep inside ( spoiler alert: most of it was kept in x )  

she is still very much desperate to please her parents despite it all /: i feel like for a long time she kinda excepted and agreed that fame is everything ( hence why shes known for using her last name to get her places ) but shes starting to realize just how FUCKED it all is and just how much it’s messed her up so stay tuned for more fun !

ok so career stuff ! nari started off as a child model bc she was um super cute and super good at knowing what to do / not freaking out in front of cameras <3 but she was always obsessed with actors ! she used to sit in front of the tv for hours legit study and memorize ppls mannerisms and various movie lines.. she was literally always just quoting random lines / imitating various actors so often her parents were like ok word go act !    

she landed her first role at 12 and it was a pretty huge role as a lead chara in a mini television series that revolved around a cast of kids ( think stranger things but not plot wise just how some of the mains were kids ) with zero acting experience before hand ... so it was pretty clear to the media nari got the spot bc she was a kwon ! there was a bunch of controversy around the show before it came out but once it was released...there was no denying nari had talent

after that it was just a whirlwind of acting doors opening up for her. everyone wanted nari bc of her last name and all the attention that came from it, not to mention every director wanted to be The One that helped narissa kwon become one of the most famous actresses of the 21st century. most of the time she was getting cast for selfish reasons but nari never realized it /: she was just happy to be acting bc it really was like therapy for her to become different ppl

flash forward to age 15 when narissa was finally diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and was prescribed meds to help ! it was actually a director from a movie she was working on that suggested to her parents nari might be struggling after witnessing her have a panic attack on set. not wanting a scandal, her parents agreed it was best to get her “help” which included pills and weekly therapy ! 

so nari actually didnt mind it too much tbh she HAD been struggling for a while she just assumed her anxiety was normal and just like something all famous ppl were dealing with but that wasnt the case. she was hesitant to open up to her therapist just bc she was still obsessed with this idea of inside nari vs outside nari, and she was very scared to cross that line so it took....years of sessions to build up that trust

as she got older though and as she got more famous, everyone just assumed she was better. she was more famous and loved by the day, she had become a chanel ambassador ( thank u jennie x ), her interviews on youtube always brought in record views, she’d started in plenty of movies critics agreed would become cult classics, her social medias were nearing kardashian level in terms of followers: everything was on track....

....except nari had actually never been more unstable. she had become so dependent on her meds she couldnt go anywhere or talk to anyone without popping a few in. all the watching eyes were starting to make her paranoid, not to mention the pressure from her parents ( who couldn’t be happier with nari being so famous ) was at its all time high. she had been nominated for an oscar at 21 and everyone was expecting her to win...and then she didnt

narissa kwon famously fainted at the 2018 oscars after it was announced she had lost the award. her actual fainting wasnt caught on camera or televised, but it WAS witnessed by some of the most relevant names and faces in hollywood who were in that room. the scandal took the media by storm, the hashtag #getwellnarissa trending for over 42 hours until a statement was released she had fainted bc of dehydration and other undisclosed causes and that she was okay & currently taking it easy at home surrounded by family 

in reality it was the abuse of her medication as well as all the stress, but when your last name is kwon manipulating the press is as simple as making the right phone call. unfortunately for nari and her parents, the article about the brat pack came out a week later, and there was no manipulating that source /:

for narissa, it was all a wake up call. she decided to go off her anxiety meds altogether. after falling out with the brat pack she spent that year trying to figure out who she was separate from her fame and her last name. despite some offers from a few casting directors ( surprisingly some people still wanted her despite the scandals bc she was still a kwon, after all ) narissa rejected every role except one in a coming of age indie movie that explores womanhood and mental health as well as strained relationships with mothers. the movie is set to release sometime mid august hehe (~:

she agreed to come to milan to reunite with the brat pack bc she’s still searching for herself ! nari figures the people who quite literally grew up with her might give her some answers......not to mention there is still a part of her who is desperate to reclaim the image and status she had before everything fell apart </3    

PERSONALITY/TIDBITS

narissa is....complicated to say the least. growing up in front of the cameras and in a family who prioritized fame and outside opinions of you as the most important thing, she is quite literally desperate for praise and approval. because she legit has no idea what parts of her are real and what parts of her she’s created for her public persona, she often looks for understanding in others!! shes very very good at analyzing people and understanding people in the hopes that its gonna make her better at analyzing herself, but to no avail. 

libra sun capricorn moon !! THIS is super accurate and telling if u wanna read but i kinda just summarized it in the last bullet

she is such a perfectionist with everything she does and a bit of a control freak in the sense that if she’s not the one doing something, she doesnt have faith whatever that is will be able to live up to her unrealistic standards. directors are often concerted with nari bc whenever she gets big roles.....she is so hard on herself, often asking for take after take bc she monitors every little thing abt her expression or her movements. she’s often left frustrated and disappointed with herself bc again, her standards are SUPER unrealistic ):

she’s relatively sweet!! growing up with the brat pack they probably knew her as the life of the party, very bubbly, confident, and very easy to have fun with as long as you’re being tolerable. however, she can get kind of opinionated at times so it’s very hard for you to gain her trust and respect back if you lose it. she’s also prone to random mood swings / periods of isolation, but whenever she returns its with a big smile and a soft voice assuring you everything is okay 

very good at lying and deceiving ppl but she hardly ever does it on purpose ( unless her publicists asks her too ). she’s carried this persona / public image of herself curated for consumption from others for so long, sometimes she has no idea when she’s being sincere or if she’s just convincing herself she’s being sincere. most of the time she only deceives other people about herself. she can come across as kind of elusive because of this ( think daisy from gatsby’s perspective ) but it’s not on purpose. she just legit has no true sense of self isnt that sexy?

speaking of sex. JWDBJWBDJWBD she also uses that as a coping mechanism / a weird affirmation that yes, she IS wanted by others and yes she IS seen as someone beautiful and that she IS something to be consumed by others ( like i said in my tags....male fantasies male fantasies ) but then at the same time she feels guilty abt this and so unsatisfied and disgusted at how she’s living her life as an object / manifestation of other people’s projections rather than as a normal person...rip </3 its a cycle

ever since her relationship with micah that was so hated by the public it actually ruined and ended their relationship, nari has been too scared to publicly have a relationship again. the media seems to love seeing her on casual dates with other stars, but not to see her tied down to one person, as that kind of “damages” this super accessible persona she’s put out ( think idols and why they cant date )  

she loves poetry, french music, all of marilyn monroe and audrey hepburn’s movies, nonfiction essays abt womanhood and identity, anything chanel, is particularly fond of silk dresses but is partial to velvet as well, wears lacy bralettes under everything bc it makes her a little more confident, actually prefers large parties to small ones because small gatherings are more personal therefore give her more anxiety, would only eat fruit and drink champagne if she could live like that, doesn’t know how to swim so she’s scared of the ocean as well as the dark, used to study ballet as a kid and misses it terribly, doesn’t know how to drive and isn’t planning to learn, can be materialistic at times, is probably an introvert masquerading as an extrovert for 22 years now, the only movies she cant stand are westerns, loves to travel but is scared of flying, doesn’t drink coffee, and is allergic to nuts. 

last but most important fact about narissa is that she loves her brother wolfe more than anything in this world so messing with him is the only way nari is bound to 100% hate you. she can bully him all she wants ( ex. starting very real rumors he IS in fact a furry ) but no one else is aloud to actually be mean to him or she will kill you

also very random but i had a hc that when she was 6 and her pet cat jinx died she caused enough fuss at home her parents actually made it a national holiday in about thirteen different states. the anniversary of this death is december 4th and yes . the brat pack better mourn jinx with nari every year......

pls spare plots im sorry this is so long.....JBDJBWJDBWJBWDJBJ i promise it will be worth it also im sensitive and very small ... how can u say no ? 

#bratsintro #╰ ♡ . 𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒔 ── ooc ! #yes this tag is inspired by the margaret atwood quote....bc i am Literally haunted by it #so is nari x #also this gif ? inspired by her furry brother<3 #this intro is a whole mess pls . plot with me anyway ? #THIS IS RIDICULOUSLY LONG HOLY SJBWJBJWBDJW yea i...am so sorry oy my god

[ambiguouslyliterate-blog]

Respawn Point Ch. 3: Waifu Ruckus

"These are the crop fields. They aren't maintained especially well… The players we assign to work in them usually ditch to rp or go dungeon crawling."

It had been a few days since San and I had arrived in Weebtown. San quickly went her own way after she was healed up; the aloof creeper girl venturing into the server to go cause trouble in a way that I wasn't surprised was her standard. I was left to explore the server on my own, only occasionally bumping into her or Roxxie as I walked the streets, the pink petals of cherry blossoms blowing around my feet.

"Here are the mines. There used to be a systematic branch mining system here but now everyone just does what they want. A lot of people have even built little secret bases inside the mines, making other players pay tolls. It’s… A thing."

Weebtown was more like my home server than I'd expected; there were fields of crops, areas squared away for mining and private building, and even a few cool landmarks like the anime-haired creeper that towered over the server’s spawn point. The major difference however, was the mods. My home server, the server where I spawned, was "vanilla," meaning that mods were outlawed, although that didn’t stop the mod users that forced their way in. Either way, anyone who used a mod was seen as an outsider, which was in stark contrast to the streets I was walking now. Modded weapons, armor, special blocks, and plants littered the server, players walking by them as if they were a normal part of the world, as if they hadn't been brought into existence through an otherworldly power. It was a welcome change, even if I had to see players walking around with the occasional overly-graphic body pillow.

"What are all of these for?" I asked, looking around at the legion of bland stone buildings surrounding us. The admin chuckled.

Slenda had been taking me on a tour of the server, both of us hoping that I'd be able to find a place there, or at the very least help me socialize. Slenda didn't seem keen on either, her eyes cold and her voice tired during most of her walk. Though, I suppose I'd be just as broken if I had to run this mixed deathtrap and playground barely disguised as a functioning society. When we reached the edge of the spawn town the ornate buildings and semi-organized gave way to a sea of grey and pale colors, all belonging to buildings of nearly identical structure. They all had a similarly shaped main building with wings to either side, the walls lined with windows. Every roof had a small walkable area with a fence around it and in the dirt beside the buildings' bases there were chalk lines for some kind of sports. The only thing differentiating the buildings were the signs in front of them, all written in that indecipherable weeb language.

"Oh, these? They're all high schools."

"ALL OF THEM?!" I questioned, my mind spinning, "B- But, why?!”

Slenda shook her head, letting out a weary sigh. It didn't seem like it was the first time she'd had to break this to someone.

"That’s anime!” She said with a weak smile and a flash of her hands, “To get to all of the beauty and nuance, you need to dig through a bunch of high schools and horrible waifus."

Weebtown was the peak of superfluous, taking every unnecessary excessive element they possibly could and finding a way to squeeze it into every day server life… But high schools?! What's so exciting about high schools?! Most servers didn’t even build schools in the first place since most players spawn in with a decent amount of knowledge. But this server had what looked like thousands. It felt like being on the top of a mountain where the air thinned, except here you were left gasping for standards and moderation rather than oxygen. I didn’t even want to know what a “waifu” was. I looked to the admin; stern, tidy, straight-laced. Though I'd run into San a couple times around the server, Slenda felt a lot more tangible, for lack of a better word. It didn't feel as if asking her questions would end in cryptic answers or unrealistic spells of unconsciousness.

"Why in the Nether would you want to work in a place like this?” I asked, gazing out over the sea of bland cement and distant neon pink blossoms, trying to ignore the churning disgust in my stomach. Slenda looked at me, her thick eyebrows pulled together in a strained look of confusion. It seemed like she saw the excess, but wasn’t put off in the same way I was, or at least wasn’t on the same page, "I mean you and Roxxie are like... Normal."

Slenda tilted her head to either side, lips parting to laugh but closing as if she wasn’t ready to speak, still putting the story together, grunts and sighs filling the space. I smiled at her, glad that part of this crazy world was finally starting to budge. "Well yeah the server’s messy, but it’s not that bad, y’know? Besides, how Roxxie and I got here isn’t much of a story...”

She let out a deep sigh, scratching her head. Her expressions were more and more fluid as she spoke, her exasperated smile beginning to crack, “Me and her just got tired of the way things were run in our server that we decided to try making our own, y’know? So much land is taken up by established servers, though, so we just started looking for one to join, and we found Weebtown."

“You’ve been in Weebtown for a while then, I take it?”

The admin dusted off a stone slab bench and sat on it, smiling incredulously at herself. "No actually, we’ve only been here a few months… When we arrived, the admin was already begging people to take her place. No one here wanted the responsibility so I took the position and made Roxxie my operator. It's been non-stop weaboo nonsense ever since."

I took a seat next to her, Slenda keeping a slight distance between us, "I mean, you're one of the only normal people here and you stabbed my girl—" A finger pushed up her glasses on her nose, warmth flushing into her cheeks, “San, in the middle of the night.”

To be fair, it was her fault.

At the very least, I was glad to see that I was able to find someone to talk to in the server. Another boring straight with no interest in body pillows or honor fighting. The most significant difference between us however, seemed to be in patience. Where I could never imagine running this bizarre anime death carnival, Slenda seemed to be taking it in stride, or at least doing the best she could.

“Do you ever regret it?” I asked, “Becoming the admin, that is?”

Slenda shook her head, a smile growing on her face, just barely hidden behind her stooping shoulders and curly tufts of hair.

"No... Weebtown's a mess, but that's kinda why I like it,” She smiled, even warmer than before. It was the smile of a proud mother looking over her horrible weaboo child, "It's like a fixer-upper, you know? If I can improve things here, I'll actually be doing something really special.”

I smiled back at her and tried to close the difference between us on the bench, scooting slightly closer. Her eyelids came halfway over her eyes and she slid farther down the bench, the storm over her eyes returned. “I just wish Roxxie felt the same…”

Slenda’s voice trailed off, her eyes wandering upwards. Without a word, she left her seat on the bench, tip-toeing forward. I followed her eyes only to see a thin wisp of smoke rising over the far edge of the eastern district of high schools. Shouts could be heard as the black pillar grew, flickers of heat beginning to pour from its bottom. The admin’s eyes shot open, startled with disappointed realization.

The admin darted down the path, fumbling in her pocket for something as her feet forced her way forward. I ran behind her, trying my best to keep pace by throwing myself in the vague direction she was running, though I was completely lost to the situation. As we neared the swirling smoke and the fiery chaos at its base however, I started to remember what the guardians had mentioned before-- about San “trying to blow up the server every other week.” I gulped.

"Crap don't tell me that's--"

"Oh, it’d better not be.” Slenda growled back. She pulled a book out of her pocket, something I’d recognized as an admin’s book of names, and clutched it tight as she ran. She couldn’t be…

"THE WAIFUS ARE BURNING!!" A distant voice cried, pulling my eyes forward. The area beyond the high schools was clearer now as the excessive stone structures began to part. It was a clearing of technicolor figures, much like other sprite art displays in my home server, but with one major difference. The art wasn’t of innocent, normal things like flowers or mobs or tools, they were all of two-dimensional anime girls that towered over the eastern high schools. Some were blue-haired, some had dragon tails, some cat ears, but all had ridiculous outfits and horrifying cleavage. So that’s what a waifu is… I pondered, my face twisting as I followed behind Slenda, Maybe we could just… Let this place burn?

Weebs ran back and forth under the amber flames, buckets of water and blocks of dirt in their hands that they were using to snuff the flames, though the blaze seemed too much for the disheveled otakus to handle on their own. In the center of the havoc stood a cloaked figure; dark fabric swirled around their body, tossed by the wind. Their hood was pinned in the front by a skull-shaped steel pendant and chain, the little light that glinted off the face shining like a steely grin. The figure stepped forward, followed by one or two weebs, breaking off from the crowds of onlookers. Slenda moved to address the cloaked weaboo but he spoke first, cutting her off with a voice that was such a stark departure from his form it felt like it put a crack in the air. It was somewhere between the shrill cry of a cat and that of a gossiping old woman. It was the kind of voice you’d imagine an old yellowed skull to have, not a living player.

“No need to worry, administrator. We’ve got things under control here.”

His voice may have been annoying, but looking behind him, I found that he wasn’t completely wrong. Though the blaze still roared, the players had been pushing it back, or at least keeping it contained. But, why would he hold someone back from helping, especially Slenda? Weebs climbed and jumped along the structures, some crowding around their feet to stare upwards in disheveled awe while others went to stand behind the cloaked man, their eyes burning a hole through us and their hands restless. Slenda took a heavy breath, pushing a loose tuft of hair back behind the side of her glasses.

“Well, I have to admit,” She said, still gasping from our run up here, “I wouldn’t expect the leader of a weeb gang to do such a good cleanup job, Desu Skull.”

I shook my head. Excuse me, WHAT?

“It’s pronounced Deathzu Skuru.” The cloaked figure gave a fake cough, a hand on his hip, his other hand gesticulating dramatically in the air. His primadonna-of-the-undead voice seemed a perfect fit, “But that’s close enough I guess...”

As I continued to survey the scene behind the sassy skull-faced weirdo, something suddenly caught my eye. There was a structure of iron beside one of the waifus, a hasty assemblage of iron bars like a makeshift cage. There was a blue and green form inside, one that instantly pulled me in. I leaned in to try and get a closer look but “Deathzu Skuru” stepped in front of me, his arms outstretched. He was closer now, and I could see two white lights inside of his hood, glowing brightly, offensively. “Now now, you really don’t have to be here. We’ve got this all handled.”

Slenda strode through his hasty blockade, a look of impassioned disapproval on her face. It didn’t take long for the image within the cage to become clear to us, the neon blue mass of hair flipping to the side to reveal San’s dumb grin.

“Hey guys! I’m being detained!”

“YOU LET HER OUT RIGHT NOW!” Slenda barked, spinning on her heel to face the hooded head honcho. Deathuzu Skuyuru (or however you pronounce his name) simply stood and laughed, his snicker growing to a high, overpowering cackle. He moved a metal-clawed hand to pull back his hood, revealing his face--or rather—a mask. He wore an iron mask in the shape of a skull without a lower jaw, the teeth extending to a cartoonish exaggerated length. A white skull was painted on the metal forehead (because I guess the skull-shaped mask wasn’t enough) and in front of his eyes he wore a pair of sunglasses, each lens of which had a holographic skull sticker that shined a powerful white in sunlight. I wasn’t surprised by the weeb’s outfit at this point, given the other players in the server. Just disappointed.

“IF we let out this little troublemaker, she’ll just do something like this again, and again, and again! You definitely don’t seem intent on doing anything about it. You just give her a slap on the wrist!”

“It isn’t your decision!” Slenda snapped, pulling back out her book of usernames, “I’m the admin here and I decide how griefers here are punished. If you do anything to her, I’ll ban you for PvP in a neutral area, Death Skull!”

The skull-faced vigilante coughed again, “Deathzu Skuru… BUT ANYWAY, you can’t ban me unless I’ve already attacked her, and so you’ll be unable to stop me with my mod—“ The cloaked figure spoke laboriously, epically, reaching into his sleeve. He pulled out a sleek black weapon that fit snugly in his hand, its squared end pointed towards the sky like some ancient and powerful obelisk, “A GUN! THAT KILLS YOU!!”

“YOU FIEND!” Slenda gasped.

That could literally be any weapon, I thought, it’s functionally the same as a bow and arrow why would you even mod that? I rolled my eyes, materializing one of Zolo’s swords in my hands. It barely took any thought to summon my mod anymore, the last weapon I copied appearing instantly, like the press of a button. Like a reflex. “Okay, this is dumb,” I interjected, “Can I just like beat him up or something?” I stepped forward and Desu Skull flailed back, yelping at the weapon in my palm, his gun waggling in every direction. “Hey! Careful with that thing, normy! That’s a dangerous weapon!”

He stuck his feet firmly on the ground, his arm straightening, pointing his firearm at San’s cage like an arrow. I stepped forward, twirling the sword in my hand like a bat, the steel slicing the air. It was only then that I began to think about how little training or understanding I had of swordplay, but I hoped it would work out. These things usually… Well. Okay, maybe I did have reason to be worried.

Slenda would have to punish me somehow for fighting Desu Skull, and I’d probably end up injuring a stray weeb or two, but I figured it was worth it. Maybe it was a weakness of mine, but I couldn’t stand jerks like him bullying other players just to make a point. If I couldn’t kill him, I was hoping at the very least I could give get him away from San, get her to safety, even if it meant getting myself in trouble.

Slenda grabbed the back of my collar, yanking me back and growling at me through gritted teeth, “I know you like stabbing my players, but this situation is a bit more complicated than that, “Cyrustheslayer.”’ I could swear I saw the weeb’s skull mask smirk at us. I scowled at him. This situation felt too familiar to me. Standing across from a twisted modder with a metal mask and a bizarre sense of justice, “We can’t let him kill San. There has to be another way to handle this.”

I pulled my sword to my side, but didn’t despawn it. It still didn’t make sense to me why Slenda was so protective of San; threatening to ban players who hadn’t done anything to her, scolding those who put her in even mild danger, even though she could respawn. I’d heard of players before who couldn’t respawn, whose deaths were permanent, but they all lived in special servers, “hardcore” servers. Was San a hardcore player too? I clenched my sword, ready to take Desu Skull down. Just in case.

Desu Skull cocked his head and chuckled, observing Slenda’s leash-like hold on me. “Oh! Well. I wasn’t expecting you to just let me exact vigilante justice, but I guess it do be like that sometimes!” The modder waved his gun around joyously, nearly dropping it.

“That’s not what I meant!” Slenda cried back.

“NOW WATCH, ADMIN! AS I MAKE YOUR HORRIBLE WAIFU DISAPPEA--”

Desu Skull looked dramatically towards San’s cage, his shades narrowed down the sights of his modded firearm, only to see empty space. A cage with no captive, a hole carved in the bars. “Wh- Wha--” His gun shook in his hand, first with confusion, then with frustration, then with anger. The weeb stomped his foot, pointing at members of his gang who stood in the crowd, crying out and demanding an answer to where she was, , “CAN’T I TRUST MY GOONS TO PERFORM ONE SIMPLE TASK?! WHICH ONE OF YOU LET HER OUT, HUH? STEP FORWARD!”

As Desu Skull spoke the air began to swirl, the air hot, dry, and unnatural. It was as if the air around us was angry. Just as Desu Gun moved to point his gun towards us, to threaten us for an answer, a searing gust burst through the air between our two groups, sending bodies flying in every direction. Burning air whipped around us as if we’d been caught in a tornado, throwing us against nearby walls and dispersing the crowd of weebs like a sand castle kicked by a beach bully. The only thing left standing was Desu Skull, his steel-armored body resolute against the supernatural winds. A figure appeared in the hot, swirling cloud behind him, eyes glowing with yellow fire. The figure’s hand reached out, taking the gun in her iron grip.

Roxxie crushed the gun in her hand, the firearm bubbling out from its corners like hot wax. Death Skull tried to break away but Roxxie pulled him close, her flaming claws moving forward against his verbal protests. Trails of broken flame came up from her eyes, her ponytail bursting into a flaming halo. “N- Now now, no need to be a tsundere..!” He gasped, trying and failing to wrench his hand away from her grip. Though Slenda and I were both pushed against the cement of a high school’s outer wall, Slenda pulled herself to her feet, pushing off and trudging through the harsh wind.

“Lucky for you guys, I just happened to be in the area.” Roxxie grinned, holding her prize high like a hunter. San stepped out from behind her, waving at Slenda. Desu Skull managed to writhe out of Roxxie’s grip only to end up in the dirt where Roxxie pinned him under her boot. The operator smirked down at him, then looked up to give a beaming smile to Slenda.

“Roxxie, let him go!” Slenda cried.

“What, are you’re saying we should just let him off?” She questioned, her tone stirred with a genuine confusion. The operator grimaced, pushing Desu Skull’s steely mask farther into the dirt, “He just tried to execute San for a crime she didn’t even commit! We’re supposed to just let crap like that fly?”

I hoisted myself up, summoning a sword to anchor myself in the dirt, and another to pull myself forward, bringing myself closer to the pillar of flame. One overpowered jerk down and one to go, I guess. I grunted against the whipping gusts. Streaks of flame were beginning to form as well, falling from her body like streamers and spinning in the air around the scene like the beginning of a fiery hurricane.

“Just let him go!” I yelled, Roxxie’s eyes snapping to me in condescending surprise. Slenda stared at me, her half-lidded eyes as unamused as Roxxie’s, as if this was their private squabble. I wondered how many times they’d done this, “I don’t like this guy either but it’s not like being a dick isn’t going to make the players like you any better!”

The operator growled, turning to Slenda. The fires were beginning to die around her as her expression became more weary, “Slenda, you know if we keep letting them do more and more of this, the server’s just going to fall apart!”

“I don’t care!” Slenda cried back, clutching her book of names tightly in her hand, “We can’t do stuff like this!! We are not like this!” Roxxie squinted at her, the fire in her eyes burning brightly, flickers of the flame flying back from her face in streams. Though I felt less than intimidating being that I was pitted against this experienced mod user, I pointed a sword in her direction, holding firmly onto the one I had planted in the ground. Together, me and Slenda stared her down until she reluctantly released the weeb from under her, stuffing her hands in her pockets. She plunged them deep, as if resisting the urge to hurl a fireball at the rebellious weaboo as he rose to his feet, dusting off his cloak. “The admin’s right, Roxxie, that was rather rude of you.” The skeletal loser sneered, tossing the melted remains of his weapon into the dirt. I felt a blood vessel pulse with opposition from deep within my brain.

“However,” The skull-faced gangster interjected, reaching for a black shape that materialized within his cloak, “It is going to take hundreds of man hours to restore the damage done to these precious murals, so I’m afraid as an honorable weeb my hands are still tied--!”

Before any of us could react, a shot rang out, Slenda shrieking as the bullet grazed the top of Roxxie’s forehead, sending her flying back, the fire in her eyes bursting. Desu Skull then turned to us, his gun pointed right between right between my eyes.

“BAN GUNGALEFREAK10. PvP in a neutral zone.”

Slenda clapped her book of usernames shut and after a second’s pause, Desu Skull became a blur of grey, his body launched at an incomprehensible speed towards the server boundaries. Roxxie laughed, smiling coldly as she brought her eyes level with ours, blood trickling down her forehead. San soon came down a path to the side, seemingly gleefully unaware of just how much trouble she’d caused, her eyes beaming as she caught Slenda.

As she passed by Roxxie however, the operator caught her shoulder, laughing as she spoke to her, “Sorry for all of this by the way, didn’t mean for you to get in so much danger.”

San smiled and folded her arms behind her head, seemingly content just to be caught up in all the drama. I turned to Slenda, only to see her eyes brimming with purple fire, her knuckles white on the book she clasped in her hand. She stomped towards her administrator, ignoring San, her body moving like a loosed arrow towards her target.

“Excuse me Roxxie, what in the Nether did you just say?” Slenda questioned through gritted teeth to a smiling operator.

“I set the fires,” Roxxie said with a shrug, as if it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Slenda looked like she was going to erupt, “I got tired of looking at all of those waifus and figured I could just get rid of them. If any of the high schools caught fire I’d consider it an added bonus.”

Slenda grabbed her by the collar, pulling her close enough for the blood from Roxxie’s forehead to drip onto the round lenses of her glasses. I tried getting closer, but I realized there was nothing I could do. This wasn’t an isolated event, but the last straw of a fight they’d been having for months. “YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT!” Slenda screamed into Roxxie’s face, her arms shaking.

“And why not?” Roxxie chimed back, squinting at the admin, “I’m the second most powerful person in this server since I’m your only operator. I should be able to start controlled burns like this! It’s cleaning up land that we run!”

Roxxie shook Slenda from her collar, staring daggers for a few seconds before finally stomping off. She launched into the air with a burst of flame, flying to some unseen corner of the server like a loosed arrow. Her eyes wet with anger and exhaustion, Slenda collapsed to her knees, San running to her side.

“You okay Slenda?” Asked San, her hand moving instinctively to pet Slenda’s mounds of curly dark brown hair.

The admin smiled at her, wrapping her arms around the creeper girl. “I should be asking you that, you doofus. You almost got shot!”

“I probably woulda been fine,” she smirked back, burrowing her forehead into the admin’s like an overly blunt eskimo kiss. The two smiled, giggling at each other for a few seconds, but Slenda seemed to be holding onto something. Her face never seemed to pull into a full smile, her eyes always a little strained, pointed just over San’s shoulder.

She was worried about the operator, or more accurately, what she was going to do. And so was I. Shivering, I looked to the stream of smoke that followed Roxxie, my stomach churning. Weebtown was just like home to me now… The only problem was, it was just like home.

#minecraft #mojang #fanfiction #fanfic #minecraft: respawn point #respawn point #my oc #my oc's #san #san powder #slenda #mod #mods #desu skull #anime #weaboo #weaboos #weebs #weeb town #roxxie #cyrus #weebtown #server #minecraft server #fire mod #copy mod

[we-steer-the-ship]

Tbh, while I am fond of you trying to promote body positivity, I feel you tend to go overboard, like with the Harvest Goddess story.

Thank you for your honesty, anon. And trust me, I do understand where you’re coming from. I do feel there is a bit of confusion in regards to the things I write and that’s definitely my fault for never giving a proper explanation to differentiate the two factors going on here in my little story telling experiments. So if you’ll indulge me, I would like to try and explain.

The two key elements at play here are: 1.) Body positivity. Specifically, fat acceptance. And let’s be real, the kfp franchise has built itself around that by having its main character being a fat panda who, among other things, was insulted for his weight. And, 2.) Feederism. A lifestyle that is pretty self explanatory but, for the unitiated, basically means that things like feeding/eating, fat, being fat, weight gain, etc…are things that make someone happy. And in certain contexts, it can also add to more adult-like stories (or as you guys like to call them: sin). (Side note: a person who lives a feederism lifestyle may not always be into all the things I listed as it varies from person to person. But generally speaking, these things are all aspects of feederism).

In the past, I’ve written fics that typically fall into one of these two categories, but there is often overlap as I try to fuse the two together. For example: “Living The Panda Life: Part 1” is more of a body positivity story. It’s a simple slice-of-life kind of tale centering on Po and Tigress celebrating their ten year wedding anniversary. The only significant change in this AU is that Tigress is now fat and she is also happy and confident in her appearance. But then “Living The Panda Life: Part 2” goes to the other category by focusing more on the Feederism aspect. Delving into things that were sort of hinted at in part 1 only now they get the spotlight. (Side note: I would like to point out that part 2 was really only written because I received several requests for it as many readers were curious to see a new type of sin fic).

But as you can see, there is a clear divide between those two parts as they each have a different focus. Part 1 focuses on their life and family and romance, it just so happens that Tigress is also fat. Part 2 takes a peek behind the curtain to spotlight the how and why Tigress is fat and showing how much she actually enjoys it.

Now, why do I do this? Well, as stated above, this is an experiment to try and tell stories that have both elements in them. For years within the fat acceptance community, people have argued back and forth on whether body positivity can coexist alongside feederism. Some say you can only have one and not the other, others say you can have both, it’s all over the place.

Me, I’ve always felt you can do both. And in the format of story telling, if done right, you can have both elements present in the story. Now, am I doing it right? I have no clue. I’m just testing it out and trying new things with it and seeing what comes of it. Whether it turns out good or bad, I at least want to try. And in the meantime, I’m having fun doing so.

So with a story like “The Harvest Goddess”, I’m attempting to merge the two into one. Body positivity is exemplified by the inhabitants of the cheetah village being accepting and loving of fat bodies. Feederism is exemplified by the introduction of Kora (and will be expanded upon once Lady Qwin makes her debut).

So again, I’m trying to do both. “The Harvest Goddess” is, at its core, a story about Tigress coming to discover herself in new ways and find answers to questions she’s always had. It just so happens this character driven drama (which will get more emotional and dramatic in upcoming chapters) also happens to be set in a place where fat is the standard of beauty and feederism is just a part of their collective everyday lives.

The women of this island are all fat to some degree. Some are only slightly chubbier than Tigress while others are bigger than Mei Mei. Then there’s Kora who is the biggest cheetah on the island. The women here love themselves and their bodies and celebrate the beauty they see in themselves. That’s where the body positivity comes into play. And as the story goes on, it becomes apparent that the reason all the women here are larger is because they openly indulge on an overabundance of food and have no qualms about whether they put on a few pounds or not. Some women though, like Kora, actively enjoy eating and gaining and are still openly loved and supported by everyone around them. That’s where feederism comes into play.

An attempt to blend these two facets together into a cohesive story that has drama, emotional stakes and all the other things people love about stories and fanfiction. Just wait until we get to chapter 6 and you’ll see why Tigress is so important to these cheetahs. From there, the story becomes more of a character driven drama with a few tear jerking moments, angst, happiness and love.

Also, in regards to me going overboard. That is also true at times, and is ESPECIALLY true with “The Harvest Goddess” and the will-probably-never-be-posted-even-though-its-been-finished-for-months “Living The Panda Life: Part 3”.

The overboard approach to certain elements is meant to appeal to a certain niche audience of followers I have who want these specific kinds of things in a fic. Plus, for me, it’s just fun to write and try to push the extremes and deliver fics that are vastly different than the other 99% of kfp fics out there.

I have had people ask me how such extremes work because its unrealistic and shouldn’t exist. First of all, this is a series about anthropamorphic animals that talk, do kung fu and use things like chi and even straight up magic (like in LOA). So, you know, it’s a fantasy. Its NOT meant to be fully realistic. But having said that, I still create realistic (or at least semi-realistic) reasons within the story as to how these extremes are possible anyway because it keeps the naysayers at bay.

For example, (and this will obviously be described in more detail in upcoming chapters) but you noticed how the cheetahs use a very powerful form of chi in “The Harvest Goddess”? Yeah, that’s an important plot detail that will come into play soon.

Even in my other stories that are currently in development like my Zootopia fic “A Growing Girl”; Xing’s extreme weight is caused by newly developed and untested experimental medicines that end up working too well and have rather extreme side effects on her. In my story “Heavy Hearted”, Juryo is so large because she was cursed by a witch (think Beauty and The Beast type of magic spell). And in “The Harvest Goddess”, the use of a new and more powerful form of chi is a contributor to these things. I always try to have these things make sense within the confines of the story I’m telling.

And lastly, if you think “The Harvest Goddess” is overboard now…well…let’s just say you are NOT going to like when Lady Qwin finally appears in the story. Fair warning.

Thank you for letting me explain myself. I hope this rambling has made sense for not only you, but anyone else who is reading this and has had similar thoughts or questions.

At the end of the day, these are just silly little stories about talking animals who do martial arts and sometimes some of them get fat. So let’s not take things too seriously and just let everyone here have fun in their own way. Some of my fics are aimed at a specific audience and are not intended to appeal to everyone, while my other more “normal” fics are meant to appeal to the general audience at large. So there’s something for everyone either way. I just enjoy writing what I write and greatly appreciate whoever finds enjoyment in them.

[toomanyfeelings5]

happy, part 6

new part of this fic! link to part 5, which links to the other parts. 

this bit features a lot of me channeling crazy ex-girlfriend: rosy and lydgate basically burst into “we’ll never have problems again (love yay)!” and rosy’s entire mindset with every relationship she’s ever had with a man can be summed up with in one indescribable instant, which you should all listen to and think about compulsory heterosexuality and unrealistic relationship expectations and lowkey laugh/tear up with me while you listen. 

full disclosure: i’ve never read a sarah dessen novel, and i’m sure her books are well-written and wonderful. the quotes i take from this lullaby (which, according to rosy’s tumblr, has been her favorite book since she was like, twelve, no i’m not a weirdo stalker) are necessarily out of context. i’m by no means hating on the book or its depiction of romance: it’s really about how rosy interprets the book???

also rosy is maybe kind of sort of starting to sort her shit out.

11. thomas lydgate is handsome, intelligent, driven, and overconfident in a way that’s admirable instead of distasteful. he’s a man who knows what he wants. he wears polo shirts and button-downs and khaki pants and expensive shoes, and, according to him, only owns one sweatshirt. he’s also an adorable nerd who watches grey’s anatomy despite its “deeply inaccurate representation of actual medical procedures and treatment,” who is so passionate and so excited and so sure about becoming a doctor that rosy forgets sometimes that he isn’t already in med school.

fred says that he’s arrogant, max says that he talks over him, and jaime doesn’t seem to like him much either. rosy doesn’t ignore these criticisms--they all know him better than she does, for now anyway. but she’s been watching cinderella on repeat for the past week, and she’s re-read sarah dessen’s this lullaby at least three times in the past four days, and she keeps waking up with “so this is love,” stuck in her head, and she writes quotes from the book into her planner when she has the time, so the most important parts of her days ends up looking like this: 

12. “i had a feeling that something big was going to happen. to both of us. that we were, in fact, meant to be together.” 

rosgate is the perfect name for their relationship, and rosy smiles wide at the camera, just like she’s practiced. 

“this is a great love story in the making,” she says, pushing thoughts of fred and max’s tenuous romance and fred’s barely-concealed broken heart to the side. he’s being so smug about her and lydgate anyway, and the viewers want more content about rosgate, surely. 

she repeats that phrase in her head-- “this is a great love story in the making,”-- long after she’s stopped filming.

she stares into the camera, imagines that it’s her brother, and announces, “my standards aren’t that high, fred. it just takes a really extraordinary guy to live up to them. and i think i found one.” 

rosy wills herself not to think of chelsea beatrice’s worn, stained, covered-in-patches leather jacket, and more than that, she wills herself to believe her own words.

above all of his other excellent, marriageable qualities, thomas lydgate has more than enough certainty for the both of them, and that’s more than enough for rosy to fall in love with him. 

13. “love is so unpredictable. that's what makes it so great.” 

rosy doesn’t look over fred’s footage often, but she’s stuck reviewing the bit of film her and fred recorded before they send it to dot, so she catches him telling the viewers that “this is a big heterosexual disaster.” 

rosy doesn’t talk to him for hours afterwards. 

later, she constructs arguments with imaginary-fred in her head: what does fred know about successful relationships anyway? what does fred know about love that rosy doesn’t? why does she care--?

“it’s really better than what i could have imagined,” she tells the viewers a few weeks later, and smiles with every ounce of smug bashfulness that she can manage. she’s the one who’s going to get a happily ever after, thank you very much. 

14. “everything, in the end, comes down to timing.”

sure, thomas is a bit of a flake, but he’s a pre-med student! of course he’s busy all of the time, of course he has a lot on his mind, of course he forgets little things like texting her and telling her that he can’t make it to the dinner at the best restaurant in town, that he can’t spend time with her. that doesn’t make this a disaster, fred. it makes rosgate a real developing relationship. 

the funny thing is that a part of rosy is more disappointed about washing her makeup off more than anything else. rosy elects to ignore that particular part of herself, and eats a box of chocolate she’s saved for occasions such as these. she pops a white chocolate heart into her mouth, forgets how long it had taken her to apply the perfect shade of eyeshadow, and thinks of nothing but lydgate and her unanswered texts and phone calls. there. all gone. 

15. “i am coming to terms with the fact that loving someone requires a leap of faith, and that a soft landing is never guaranteed.”

the thing is--

the thing is that sometimes--

“rosamund?”

rosy hates destiny, on occasion. it brought her and thomas together, but it also shoves chelsea beatrice back into her life, an inconvenient obstacle on the way towards her romcom ending with thomas. 

“rosamund? is that you?”

rosy bites her lip, and drags her eyes upwards, away from her newly-painted pink nails and to chelsea’s baffled face. rosy takes a tiny breath. she had forgotten how dark chelsea’s eyes are, the collection of freckles near her right eye, the tiny dragon tattoo on the side of her neck. 

of all the places in the library, and chelsea had to pick the table across from hers to study at? 

“yes,” rosy mutters, the word ghosting out of her lips. “it’s me.” she adds, “i’m rosy now.”

“oh. ok then.”

rosy is expecting chelsea to, if not yell, then at least hiss indignantly about rosy’s hasty move out of their dorm, about rosy cutting off all contact, about--

“are you ok?”

chelsea’s voice is even and measured: it’s not a roommate’s voice, or a friend’s voice. it’s a stranger’s voice, noticing something vaguely amiss.

rosy swallows the lump in her throat. her face burns, and her eyes sting. of all the things she could have expected, this hurts the most. “i’m fine.”

chelsea squints at her slightly, like when rosy would pre-game too hard and insist on wobbling to a party anyway. “are you sure?”

rosy closes her eyes, thinks, she is just an obstacle, opens her eyes, and smiles right at chelsea. “would you mind going somewhere else to study? i really need quiet today, i’ve got two big exams coming up and a presentation to prepare for.”

chelsea opens her mouth, then closes it, then grabs her bag and her laptop case. she leaves without another word. 

rosy wonders, for a moment, in the silence, what chelsea had wanted to say to her. she opens her textbook and begins to read.

an hour of studying later, thomas texts her: wanna come film for dot’s documentary? i have a surprise for you :) and rosy appreciates how thomas never uses the winky face emoji, and she replies yes, be there soon! xo right away: surely she’s studied enough. 

when she gets to her shared room, thomas is holding the camera.

“i thought i could film you for once,” he declares, grinning that almost-smug, hopeful smile of his.

all of the anticipation whooshes out of her as she sits on her bed. rosy manages a little laugh. “i’m not sure if i--”

“come on, it’ll be fun!” 

he presses record, and rosy makes herself smile. “thomas, i don’t--”

“look how beautiful you are!” he laughs, all loose and casual. “they’ll all see you like i do.”

rosy should feel elated at this, rosy should blush and stammer out a thank you, but she hears chelsea ask, “are you ok?” and rosy bursts out, “i don’t--! this is too close! i don’t like being filmed.” 

eventually, thomas stops recording.

“i just don’t get it,” he tells her, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on her bed. he’s too close, but rosy doesn’t tell him that: she can’t drive him away, of course. “why do you keep saying you don’t like being filmed but then make videos for dot?”

“it’s--” rosy bites her lip. “it’s different, that’s all.” she leans into him. he’s solid and strong and still too close. “can we go get lunch?”

the camera is hers (and sometimes fred’s). she uses it. she controls it. she doesn’t--rosy makes sure to squeeze thomas’s hand as they walk to lunch--she doesn’t want to be filmed in that way, in the way that thomas looks at her. 

a traitorous thought keeps rosy up all night. her phone flashes the time: 1am, then 2:32am, then 3:45am, then 4:13am, then 5:57am. she keeps humming “so this is love” to herself. she tries to breathe evenly. 

the thought doesn’t go away. the thought keeps repeating: maybe she doesn’t want to be seen that way at all.

16. “you know, when it works, love is pretty amazing. it's not overrated. there's a reason for all those songs.” 

rosy and thomas are finally, officially together. he kisses her, and it’s the same as every other boy she’s been with. 

while the camera is still on, she beams, and for a moment she feels so happy she could burst.

she stops recording and presses the power button.

the same sinking feeling slowly settles into her chest.

she feels a rush of...something. it’s not really butterflies. it’s not adrenaline either. 

maybe it’s fear. 

rosy nearly laughs: maybe she’s terrified.

17. “i can say I made a lot of mistakes, but i don't regret things. because at least i didn't spend a life standing outside, wondering what living would be like.” 

fred goes on and on about how her and thomas are so heterosexual he could die, how they’re the straightest couple he’s ever known. 

an hour before celia’s party, he whines, “when will i get a boyfriend?”

rosy checks her lip gloss in the mirror. “maybe if you actually asked max instead of just assuming he’d show up--”

“it is homophobic that you have a date to the party and i don’t,” fred declares, flopping backwards onto his nest of pillows, ending the discussion.

it’s just a joke. fred says stuff like this all the time. rosy should laugh, or feel smug, but instead she is angry.

her knuckles whiten. “shut up, fred.”

his voice is muffled from all of his pillows. “c’mon, you know it’s true--”

“fuck you.”

rosy is dressed and ready to meet thomas at celia’s. her lip gloss is flawles. she leaves without looking back. 

the party is fun. everyone is so fun. rosy wants to be fun, but she’s still angry, everything buzzing loud in her head, so she drinks more than she’d planned to. she drinks and drinks and and drinks and feels fun. 

she doesn’t tell anyone else this, but drawing her number on billie’s arm was the best part of a shitty night. even when rosy sobers up the next day, she almost wants billie to call her. no. not almost. rosy blinks in the too-bright light. she wants billie to call her. not in a true-love way, not in a pining crush way, but still. rosy wants billie to call her. she allows herself to realize this, and then thomas starts talking to her with the camera on. 

18. “love can make up for a lot.” 

“i know what is and isn’t healthy for you.”

thomas wants her to give up drinking, and that angry feeling squeezes rosy’s chest again, so she goes out drinking the next night, with dana and sharon and jackie and all of her other friends. it’s the weekend. she can do her work later. she can respond to thomas’s texts later.

the next morning, rosy hears thomas talking. he’s sitting in her room talking...to the camera? she tries to go back to sleep, to ignore the uneasiness and irritation and--ugh, that was one too many tequilas--but then she catches thomas saying, “i’m beginning to feel really powerless here,” and rosy cannot believe it. did he really say that? is she still drunk? she almost wants to laugh, if she wasn’t so tired and hungover. she doesn’t catch his next sentence, but she does hear, “she was so mild when we met,” and, “i don’t know what happened,” so rosy interrupts him.

she wants to say, “i don’t know what happened either, but i’m starting to figure it out why it’s been happening.” she doesn’t say any of that. thomas tells her to go back to sleep, so she does.

rosy wakes up later, drinks water, manages to sit up after a while, and tries not to worry too much.

#mmts #middlemarch: the series #fic #my fic #idk what the timeline is for filming their videos???? #and i skipped over the let's pretend fred is sick video because i'm lazy #anyway #i enjoy overthinking and applying music to writing so #for the record rosy and chelsea are not going to end up together but there will be more of chelsea so get pumped #also i edited the end of part 5 to say that rosamund goes by rosy now

[mordecai-put-your-phone-away]

My School Survival Guide

Alright, so, my high school years are coming to a close and I may as well post some bullet points on here to help you not only through school, but to become a decent person.

Stay off of social media like Instagram or Snapchat. It will make you feel like shit. This is kind of an unpopular opinion because social media is great for communicating with others, but other times, it isn’t, especially when you are the lonely kid with not a lot of friends watching everybody party and have a good time doing something that you weren’t invited to. If you know what’s good for you, stay off of it as much as possible. Please trust me on this one. It will take a lot of pressure off of you.

Stay away from vaping, drugs, and alcohol as long as you can. It does nothing to help your problems. As a matter of fact, it makes your problems 10 times harder to deal with. See, this is how these things work: it fucks up your head so everything is all happy and laughy and shit except when you’re done, you end up more depressed than before. So what do you do? You start doing it more and more up until the point where you start doing it in the bathroom at school during your frees. Please for the love of god do not end up like my friend who became a pothead and wound up getting suspended from school for five days and got banned from going to senior prom and potentially her school of choice because of it.

Find a healthy way to deal with your problems. This is an addition to the last bullet point, if you want to find a healthy way to deal with your problems, go outside, read a book, draw, or get some exercise. If worst comes to worst, talk to a therapist about your problems so they can determine if you need anti-depressants. Anti-depressants are a safe and legal way to deal with depression and I know from experience that it works. You don’t need alcohol or weed to deal with your problems. All you need is to get through it and if necessary, be medicated.

Do not become a “savage”. You will be disliked by anybody with manners. A lot of kids nowadays (especially the girls from what I’ve seen) find it funny or cute to be mean and nasty to each other and to people who are just trying to be nice to them. Pettiness isn’t funny or cute once it starts happening to you. Just overall, don’t be a bitch.

Be courteous to other people around you and not just yourself. See somebody drop their books right in front of you? Help them pick them up. Hold the door open for people. If somebody looks sad, ask them what’s wrong and listen to them. Treat people the way you want to be treated. A relationship isn’t a one-way street. It’s two ways.

If a girl looks pretty, tell her. This one is what really got me to know the people I talk to now. Girls have the lowest self-esteem out of anyone because society pushes them to have completely unrealistic standards of beauty and lots of girls feel like they’re ugly and undesirable. So, if you see a girl wearing something pretty like a dress or a romper or her hair looks nice, grow a pair and tell her, even if you don’t know the girl. It will make her day and she will feel more confident in herself. Seriously, girls want to be told they’re pretty. Once you do this, their entire face just lights up in joy.

Say “good morning” and “thank you” to the bus driver. Seriously, they don’t get paid enough for having to deal with the amount of bullshit they put up with on a day-to-day basis, especially with the younger kids. A simple “thank you” would let the bus driver know that their service is appreciated by the people they serve.

Popularity is pointless. No really, it is. From what I’ve seen, it’s made up of the most wealthy, conventionally-attractive, athletic kids who all try to kiss up to each other and have little to no personality, as in you would not be able to hold an intelligent conversation with them for more than three seconds. Do not be the person begging for crumbs of acceptance like I did. It will destroy you in the end once they start turning on you. All those senior superlatives? Yeah, all popularity contest. Don’t worry, it means nothing. It doesn’t help you get a job or go to college. A big fat resume and/or a college degree does.

Drama is toxic. If the drama doesn’t involve you, stay away from it. It does nothing but hurt you and put you down. Stuff like who said what to who and everything else like that won’t matter once you put on your cap and gown at graduation.

Do not put anything in writing that you do not want getting back to you. I learned this the hard way. You never know who is screenshotting your text conversations or who is showing who what you said about someone. If you want to talk shit about someone (which I highly recommend you don’t), do it in person when nobody else but you and Person B are there.

Experiment with yourself. Don’t be afraid to dabble with different ideas, looks, and behaviors. It’s normal to have phases. I’ve dabbled with many different ideas such as being trans to my anime phase to my now Ariana-Grande-loving ass. If you find a you that you like, be that you and work hard to be that you. If that “you” is mean, however, please do not play with that idea, trash it immediately. Just be aware that it takes awhile to finally develop yourself, and don’t be afraid if you don’t know who you are as a person as most people really don’t. However, don’t be that person who trashes other people who have figured out who they are as a person because it makes you look insecure as fuck.

Making out in the hallways is gross. No seriously, like I don’t care if you’re straight, gay, or whatever it’s fucking gross and nobody wants to see that while going to class. Please for the love of god get a room.

High school relationships typically don’t last. Just know this before you finally set your heart on “the one”. People go their separate ways after graduation and they grow up. You start over with another group of people. If you know somebody who still has their high school sweetheart as their spouse, that’s great. Just know that it only happens to a very small part of the population.

Don’t be one of those loud ass boys who start screaming shit in the hallway. It’s not funny it’s really fucking annoying.

Skipping class is more than just “I don’t feel like going to class”. It says to the teacher “You know what, even though you probably work your ass off all day and barely get paid anything for your work, I’m just gonna skip your class because you’re boring as shit.” I don’t care whether you like the teacher or not, just so you know, your parents’ tax dollars are paying these teacher’s salaries. If you’re not gonna do it for the teacher, do it for your parents who have to spend their hard-earned money for you to get an education.

Try getting to know a person you haven’t met before. Cliques usually develop in middle school and high school, but if you see somebody outside of your clique that you would like to meet, don’t be afraid to try to get to know them. Like Star Butterfly says, sometimes strangers are just friends you haven’t met. I know that it’s normal human instinct to judge people, but just try to ignore that instinct and try getting to know the person. If they have people talking shit about them, try getting to know the person first before going off of somebody else’s judgement. One person might say that they are the biggest bitch in the world when really they are the kindest person you’ve ever met in your life.

Strive to get good grades in school. Why do I even have to say this, it should be common sense by now. Even if you don’t get the best grades, apply yourself the best you can. Don’t spend your time on here protesting the school system. Yes, there are a lot of flaws with it, but for now, just deal with it and get through it all. What will matter are those grades and they will determine what school you go to and how you’ll be spending the rest of your life.

So um yeah, that’s pretty much it. Let me know what you think of this list!

#school #school survival

[mysticwiki]

From This Point On || Maria Qureshi (read here on my Wordpress)

My go-to with writing is usually poetry and small stanzas of prose relating to feelings I’ve been having. I haven’t written many short stories in my life, however I decided I want to change that. This is a very personal story that took me a few days to write, but nevertheless I like how it came out. It’s my first original short story since the one I wrote for my creative writing class last year.

Anyways, here it is and I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading!

It was late around one in the morning and I was losing all sense of time completely. After a long night of celebration, Mariam finally dropped me off home so I can sleep before she went back to the venue to help Ammi and Abba clean up whatever mess was made there. I was used to it at this point, this was the third time we had an event like this and it went by so much smoother than Mariam’s at least. It was expected that I’d go home, change out of these clothes, wash off the heavy makeup, and pass out until the next day, a day where all of us can finally relax until the next event. I had every intention of doing so in the first place, I couldn’t wait to get these heavy earrings off as well, but I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something bad might happen soon.

When I got to my room, the exhaustion finally hit me. I was so glad to be back in the comfort of my own space where it was quiet and there was no loud music and I wasn’t surrounded by countless family members, hyper children, and friends. I immediately took action to change out of the party clothes and into my favorite pajamas. I walked to the bathroom and washed up as quickly as possible and when I got back to my room, I threw myself onto my bed alongside my stuffed animals, hugging the one closest to me. I stared up at the ceiling and let out a sigh of relief. It’s finally over. Even if I was finally in the comfort of my own space, moments from tonight kept replaying in my head over and over again. It seemed as though every time I blinked, the image of my sister crying into my mother’s arms before she went into the car with her newly married husband would play over and over again. I knew I was going to miss her the most.

As a kid growing up with a first generation of immigrants in the U.S., I’ve been to countless weddings for family members and family friends and I think at this point, I’ve lost count. This kind of thing is really standard though when you’re growing up with such a large Pakistani family, especially when you’re the youngest of 4 daughters. The events are always the same: you’ve got two different families coming together to marry their daughters to sons and vice versa. The events are long and hectic, people get tired and cranky, and there are always those who get offended by literally anything, causing unnecessary drama. But at the end of it all, so many memories are made that you can’t help but maybe cherish it. It wasn’t until I started high school where I would finally be involved in them, in the intricate process of planning and purchasing of decorations, creating seating charts for tables, taste testing food for all the events, meeting future family members, and watching us grow larger and larger.

I’ve always hated weddings since they made me feel so uneasy. Even this one, the latest in the line of my siblings, left me feeling anxious and unsettled by what’s to come in the future for me. Call it selfish or naive, but I have never wanted any desire to have a wedding for myself. Or rather, I thought the idea of marrying someone I barely knew seemed obscure and a little suffocating. The amount of “wedding lectures” I’ve received from my parents (my mother especially) have overwhelmed me and, because of them, it’s made me pretty fearful for the future. My parents never made it easy for me or my sisters to find someone to love by ourselves. They were pretty much involved in every step of the way in my sister’s love lives especially. It’s common though, most Pakistani-Muslim parents don’t want their children, their daughters especially, from entering relationships. There was no such thing as having a boyfriend. And definitely, which is rather unfortunate for me, there was no such thing as having a girlfriend either. I suppose I was always doomed from the start.

—

First it was Naila, she got married when I was 15 years old and starting my sophomore year of high school. She’s the eldest, so it would make sense for our parents to push her to marry after college when she was 22. She’s definitely the most religious out of the four of us. Naila never complained, she just wanted to set a good example for her younger sisters, but I swear sometimes I saw a hint of doubt in her eyes whenever she would be with him. Needless to say, her wedding was the hardest to organize since it was also the first. It was successful in the end and she even moved a town over with her dearest. From that point on, she always made it a goal to visit us every day. She even turned me into the designated babysitter for little Leila as I went through the rest of my high school years since the others were away for college. Naila isn’t as discontent as she used to be, but I think motherhood is definitely taking a toll on her. Our large age gap has always made it hard for me to relate to her. She was more like another mother if anything.

Then it was Mariam, almost exactly a whole year later, who was also a year younger than Naila. Mariam got married when I was 16 and she was 22. She fell hopelessly in love with the son of my dad’s best friend and it immediately took off. They never dated, but our parents saw how well they worked together and arranged it. It was surprising to me, really, especially considering how excessively extroverted she is with her long history of attending parties she shouldn’t be at. I didn’t expect her to end up with a guy like Amir. My parents were so happy and even now I remember how happy my sister was on her wedding day despite the family drama in the midst of it. It made me hopeful that maybe one day, I would also be just as happy as her up on that stage while everyone takes pictures of me. It even kind of convinced me that maybe marriage isn’t all that bad, maybe I could do it. I mean, the outfits for these weddings are absolutely beautiful too, who wouldn’t want to wear them? She moved a state away with him, so I didn’t see her as often as I did with Naila. Her and Mariam have always been close to each other, so it didn’t make a big difference for me. Lately Ammi’s been giving her some trouble for the fact that she still hasn’t had her first kid yet like Naila, but Mariam is waiting for the perfect opportunity to tell her. She didn’t want to take the spotlight away from Farah.

I’m 18 now and on the last summer break before my first semester of college. Tonight was my last older sister’s wedding. Her name is Farah and she’s 22, the same age Naila and Mariam got married at. It was definitely the most emotional wedding out of the others, at least for me. The others were just happy that another one of us got married. I didn’t want to show it in front of her, but I was pretty upset about it. Just the fact that I wouldn’t get to see the sister who was closest in age to me, the one who was with me the most growing up, hurt me in ways I couldn’t describe. This was even worse than when she went off to live on campus for college. At least in that point in time, she never strayed away from talking to me every day. It’s when we started using Skype the most. At the very least, now it would be harder to stay in touch with her since she’s married and will be moved out for good. I don’t know how it’ll be not seeing my best friend all the time.

Growing up, she definitely fought a lot with my parents, especially when she wanted a job to sustain herself. She always won in the end though, and all throughout high school she worked. Even in college, she made sure to keep working so she can keep building, eventually passing the baton onto me. Not even Mariam or Naila urged me to work as hard as Farah told me to. Those two have always been in a different world than us. Farah inspired me in a lot of ways that was hard to describe, but her influence indefinitely reached me. In the mix of our other sister’s weddings, she got me on my feet to support myself and accumulate a sustainable amount of money through part-time jobs, babysitting, and even having me take advantage of my artistic skills for my own benefit. She pushed me harder than my parents ever did for college applications, pushing me to go for every scholarship out there and eventually having it pay off. If it weren’t for her, my parents would have never let me move to the other end of the country to attend school. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be getting that free ride that covered living costs at said school.

We both agreed how unrealistic it seemed for our sisters to be getting married so young when they were just getting their lives established, yet she fell on the same path, though in quite an unconventional way. I know she’s always wanted to have a family of her own, but not in the traditional way. I’m just glad she was able to have it her way.

She met Mansoor in college, they were in a class together. I wouldn’t say it was love at first sight, but there was an immediate attraction. Farah has always been such a determined and strong sister, it still amazes me how she found all the peace she ever wanted with such a simple person. They didn’t think anything would come out of their relationship either, but it kept growing. She always told me her secrets, things she would never tell the others. I was the first, and only one, to know that she was dating him. I knew so much about her, about how determined she was to build a future for herself, to get away from everything, and how she would find her own love without the influence of our parents. The funny thing is, which is more common than one might think, his father was classmates with our father back in Pakistan. When they found that out, our respective dads met again and it felt like a family reunion. Needless to say, wedding arrangements were made in the blink of an eye after Mansoor approached our father and asked for her hand. It all worked out for her. I just didn’t realize how quickly it would actually happen.

In exchange of me knowing all her secrets, Farah knew all of mine. She knew how I felt so different from the rest of our sisters. She was the only family member I ever outed myself to, but it never changed how she saw me. She always knew how much it hurt me, how I would never be like the rest because there was no such thing as having a gay Muslim daughter. There was no such thing as a woman marrying another in Islam.

The thing is though, I don’t think Farah ever realized how much I depended on her and her protectiveness and determination to watch me succeed. It was truthfully the only thing that kept me going during high school and in the middle of all the other weddings. Of course I’d see her again after tonight, I would see her in her own home with her own family that she’s always wanted for herself, but for now I was alone. I felt so small without her.

Feeling unsettled again by everything, I shut my eyes and turned to face the other way on my bed. It would be nice to just fall asleep right now so I wouldn’t have to deal with the rest of my family returning home and being so loud again. But as I was starting to get comfortable in bed to find the optimal sleep position, I kept hearing the rustling of paper the more I moved my head on my pillow. What was that? I sat up and blinked. Was there… something underneath my pillow? Unsure of what to do, I went with my instincts and slowly reached out towards my pillow and to my surprise, there actually was something there.

I retrieved it and brought it closer to my face and what I saw puzzled me. It was a sealed, floral-print envelope, the kind Farah used to send my birthday cards in when she was away during college. It was definitely from her, I immediately recognized her handwriting on the front of the envelope that had the words “To Aisha” written on it and a million questions started filling my head. What could even be in the contents of this envelope? Why did Farah leave it here for me? How did she even have time to stick this in my room without me noticing during the wedding weekend chaos? Maybe I should… open it?

I could feel my heartbeat grow faster as I stared at the envelope and I knew I needed to open it, I needed to know why she left this for me without any mention when I did see her this week. I carefully opened the seal, tearing it apart with my fingers, and the first thing I noticed inside was a small folded stack of handwritten papers stapled together. There were other things in there as well, but I was more curious about what she had to say to me in written form. I began to read.

Dearest Aisha,

By the time you read this letter, the events surrounding my wedding will be over and hopefully things are more calm for the both of us, especially for you. I know how anxious these events make you feel. If you happen to get to this letter before it’s all over though, I ask that you don’t mention anything you read from this with me until after everything is done. I don’t want the others to become suspicious.

You’re probably asking yourself why I left this for you, but the answer is rather simple. I know you’re never going to be like the rest of us, Aisha. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard it must be for you growing up into a world that expects so much out of you. I wholeheartedly believe that you shouldn’t be afraid to be you and that nothing should stop you. No one truly realizes how forgiving Allah is after all, you’re not a terrible person for being who you are. I doubt Ammi and Abba, or even Appi and Appa would accept this notion, but I always have. You’re about to start college after all and it’s going to get tricky from here on out. You’re going to meet so many different people, some who might mean more to you than your own family. Maybe this little story might help you.

I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but in my last semester, I met another Muslim girl named Aiza who was in my major. She comes from a family very much like ours and had a couple of older siblings who were married. We became fast friends and she even joined my study group. She was an incredibly sweet girl and was always looking out for others. One day she told me a secret, something so alarming that she said you’re the only person I’m allowed to tell. It’ll make sense, trust me. Keep reading, Aisha.

When Aiza graduated high school and was preparing to leave for college, she found out her parents found someone for her to marry like they did for her older sister and even her brother. It’s how the story always goes, Aisha, the one they found for her was from a good family with a sustainable job, and he had good values and would provide her with everything she needed to live a comfortable life at home. She didn’t want any part of that. She knew from the beginning that she was also different like you. She knew it was what made her, well, herself. She also had a girlfriend who she was very much in love with (would you believe me if I said we went on double dates together in the past?). Aiza and Marina are honestly the sweetest couple I’ve ever met.

So what did Aiza do? She didn’t want to risk ruining her life or hurting the one she loved the most. What was she going to do being away from her family and at a college so far from home? For a while, she was able to push the marriage thing until after graduation and making a compromise with her parents. But the longer she stayed in college, the worse it was getting.

You might not like what I’m going to tell you, but it’s important. She took everything she owned, gathered every bit of money she could, and moved out with her girlfriend. It wasn’t hard at first, they purposefully became roommates at the college anyway. She could have used the excuse to her family that as roommates, they wanted a place off- campus to live together. That would have been the safest thing to do and lie to them, but not the ideal one. Aiza was tired of hiding who she was, so she told her parents everything. Her whole family found out. The semester I met her in was the first semester she had without family supporting her in any way. No one even showed up to the graduation ceremony.

As you can probably imagine, they didn’t take the whole situation well. No one in her family supported her and they abandoned her. However, despite it being a hard battle and it becoming increasingly difficult to just even live with these conditions of no extra support (financial especially), she told me that it made her stronger. She felt freer than she did when she had to hide herself. Finally she could feel comfortable and not feel guilty about who she is.

Now why am I telling you all this? Was it to make you feel bad? Not at all. It’s because I talked about you, Aisha, I told her all about my beloved little sister and just how much I didn’t want her to feel trapped. I told her how out of the four of us sisters, your values were placed in other things. Some might call it being selfish, but I’ve always seen you as being your own person. Aiza told me to tell you this, to help you in any way you can. She told me if

It was unfortunate that not one family member in Aiza’s life was there to support her at all, but when she told me that, it hit me really hard. It made me realize that I don’t want you to go through that kind of pain. You don’t have to go through this alone, Aisha.

I don’t know what path you’re going to take in the next chapter in your life, but whatever it is, just know that I will always be there. In fact, you have more than just me. Aiza, Marina, and yes, even Mansoor, your new lovable brother in law, will always be here to support you.

So with all of this in mind, it’s up to you to decide what you want to do from this point on, Aisha. Here, written in plain text, is my never ending support for you.

Oh, and, speaking of support— don’t freak out over the number on the other piece of paper, alright? I’m just giving you a kickstart in support, sis.

Best of luck, darling, I will never stop loving you. Spend it wisely.

Sincerely, Farah— your crazy older sister who never stopped believing.

Suddenly the exhaustion I felt not too long ago escaped me and instead I was a shaking, crying mess. What did I even read just now? I mean, I understood why she told me the story about her friend. But why during her wedding week? Still, the words were really sweet… If Farah were here right now, with me in person, I wouldn’t let her go. Hell, I’d even hug Mansoor and tell him how lucky he is to have someone like her. Of course she had to end her letter with a mystery. I don’t even know what “it” referred to, but I was still astonished. It amazed me how well prepared she was to still be there for me, proving that not even marriage can keep us apart. Even if she was married now, even before this whole thing, she was already planning ahead to keep making sure I was okay.

Before my tears made me an even bigger mess, I remembered there were more things in the envelope. There was the slip of paper Farah warned me about, but also a photograph, so I grabbed that first. The back of the photo was facing me and in black permanent marker the words “We love you, Aisha!” was written on it. I let out a laugh and shook my head before turning it around. It was a picture of her, Mansoor, and two girls holding hands, presumably being Aiza and Marina. Seeing them all together, looking so genuinely happy made me smile and it did cease the continuous tears that were streaming down my face.

The last bit of content from this mystery envelope remained. I took a deep breath and braced myself before I carefully slipped it out of the envelope. After looking at what it was, I immediately let go of it, letting it fall on top of my blanket right beside me, I and covered my now open mouth with my hands.

I couldn’t believe it.

The last thing that Farah left me was a check. The amount of money it had on it… surely it was enough to only cover a semester’s worth of education at my future school, but it was more than enough to help me get started on whatever I wanted to do. I’m not surprised that Farah has this kind of money in the first place considering how much she spends working, but I never expected her to set aside anything to help me. Plus it was a lot of money… just how long did she spend saving all of this up?

Before I even knew how to react or what to do next, I heard the noise of key against lock as our front door was starting to unlock followed by the voices of my parents, Naila, Mariam, and my brothers-in-law. My sisters and their new families have been staying with us lately in the mix of the wedding chaos. I quickly took the contents of the envelope, stuffed them back inside, and hid it underneath my pillow again before I lied back down in bed, pretending I was asleep. I didn’t want anyone finding that letter.

I couldn’t quite make out what any of them were saying except that they were all tired and couldn’t wait to sleep. The whole house became alive as everyone was moving about, getting ready for the night. I heard footsteps grow closer and closer to my room and suddenly my parents were in my room with me.

“Ah, she fell asleep without turning the light off again.” Abba said with a sigh. It was painfully obvious how tired he was just from his voice. I drew my blanket closer to me, nearly hiding underneath it. I wanted the both of them to leave.

“Don’t be so loud, you’re going to wake her up.” Ammi said to him. They didn’t need to check up on me really, but I guess it was the thought that counts. The footsteps grew fainter as my parents made the small departure to exit my room. Before they did, one of them closed the light and the other quietly closed my bedroom door. I was alone again, in the dark.

I opened my eyes stared up at the ceiling again. The fake ceiling stars Farah helped me decorate in my room were glowing so brightly in the pitch dark. Shifting my position again, I reached out and grabbed the envelope, holding it up high above me, covering the view of some of the fake stars and I let out a sigh.

I brought the envelope back closer to me, as if I was hugging it, and I smiled. I whispered out a small “thank you” before I slipped the envelope back in its original spot. And for the last time that evening, I readjusted myself to finally go to sleep. The dread I felt earlier seemed so obscure now that I had this escape. For once in my life, I felt bigger than I actually was. There was so much power for me in just a handful of pages. It was overwhelming, yes, but I started planning. There was a whole life out there for myself that I was missing and needed to be a part of.

I finally knew what had to be done next.

END.

#maria writes #my writing #personal #short story #writers of tumblr #can't think of more tags smh #ANYWAYS

[drlauralwalsh]

Don't Be Mad at Me.

Anger is a necessary stage of grief.  Right?  It may be the therapist in me but I can’t get mad at my dead wife.  Technically, it’s her fault that she’s dead (by suicide).  I’ve got no beef with her because I understand.  And you can too.

I recently read “Suicidal: Why We Kill Ourselves” by psychologist Jesse Bering.  Ok fine, I listened to the audiobook while doing yard work.  I found the book oddly satisfying and peaceful.  Death has that effect on people - especially horrible deaths.  The really sad things end up….well, validating.�� It makes us morbid and we want to talk about gross stuff.   It can also make us really funny - like the beautiful charm of my dead wife’s thumbprint on a necklace.  IT’S A CHERISHED KEEPSAKE!  It doesn’t matter that the print was taken posthumously.  As the widow, you have to agree with me.

Dr. Bering’s book is a mix of academic research and personal stories.  He touches on Baumeister’s stage theory of suicide first described in the 1990 article “Suicide as escape from self.”  Dr. Berring applies Baumeister’s stages to the diary of a young woman who died by suicide.  On the outside, the young woman appeared successful and happy.  On the inside, she was suffering.  Her journal entries follow a predictable pattern, describing the downward spiral towards her death.  

As you know, suicide is a bit of a soapbox for me.  Baumeister’s steps bring order to a chaotic experience.  For me, it shifted how I thought of events before Patty died.  Instead of thinking of it as a series of choices she made, her death became something that happened to her.  Understanding the progressive stages of suicidal thinking makes the process knowable.  It doesn’t answer the bigger question of why bad things happen but it’s a start.

To my fellow suicide loss survivors - this doesn’t mean you missed something.  Obviously, we did because, you know...but let’s take the young woman as an example.  It only became evident to her parents in retrospect.  We only see the whole picture once we’ve put the puzzle together.  In the middle, there’s not enough information to know anything for sure.  However, these stages do provide important information for more effective prevention.

I was trying to think of the perfect blend of dark humor and suicide education.  It’s actually not that funny aside from one liners like, “Thanks for your help!  I would have asked my wife but dang it, she killed herself,” or “Patty and I had planned to move south for retirement but she retired early.”  The best I can do is give you interesting information and hope this helps you understand your loved one.  Here’s my interpretation of the stages:

Stage 1: Falling short of Unrealistic Standards

An earthquake event creates what I call the tsunami.  Something big happens- bad news, a diagnosis, loss or divorce, or a critical tipping point.  It crashes over and overwhelms you.  We’ve all had this happen to us.  How we deal with it comes down to locus of control - in other words, who gets the blame and responsibility.  Generally, everyone is inclined to either believe the world acts upon you (externalizing) or you act upon the world (internalizing).  The objective truth lies somewhere in the middle.   In the extreme, externalizers point to everyone else as the cause of their misery while internalizers put themselves at risk by hoarding all the blame for themselves.  

Stage 2: Attributions of Self

Taking blame and responsibility is power.  However, some internalizers also have unrealistically high expectations of themselves.   Realistically, sometimes things just happen to us (i.e. the world acts upon us) and there’s no one to blame.  An internalizer’s downfall is believing they have more power than they do.  Some complex experiences can’t be fixed by one person and internalizing individuals believe this is a personal failure.  This is a point of intervention if the person can catch it.  Otherwise, it’s the kindling of despair and low self esteem.  

Stage 3: Heightened Aversive Self Awareness

Now that the individual has absorbed more blame and responsibility than they can possibly manage, they cannot help fixating on the painful awareness of failures.   An unintended result is withdrawing and detaching from the support of friends and family.   As these connections are lost, the individual feels trapped  inside a thick wall of glass.  Unable to receive help or shift to the bigger picture, the individual turns further inward.  Without access to perspective and social support, they begin running out of options.   

Stage 4: Negative Affect

A downward spiral builds on negativity from the previous stages.  The awareness of perceived inadequacies is now excruciating.  Coupled with social detachment, the individual feels completely alone with their now unsolvable problems.  The pain, endless and unbearable, gradually overwhelms their ability to cope.  

Stage 5: Cognitive Deconstruction

Escape from their own mind is the one last, stopgap strategy.  Now detached from their internal struggle, the person avoids or rejects the pursuit of answers or meaning.  Time slows down as a switch from future thinking to each current moment occurs.  “Going through the motions” temporarily numbs painful emotions as the individual distracts from the pain with mindless, concrete functions like chores, simple games, or mundane tasks.  Tightly holding back the tide of painful thoughts takes all their emotional energy.  Little consideration is given to friends or family and the individual may see themselves as a burden.

Stage 6: Disinhibition

In this last stage, the person can only think in black-or-white.  The pain inside the glass prison has no time - no beginning or end.  Substance use, careless or risky behaviors, self harm, and social passivity are signs of impaired reasoning.  After exhausting all other strategies, the individual concludes it comes down to  inescapable pain or death.  No one could endure this level of  unremitting pain for long.   Resigned and accepting their impending death, the individual’s pain tolerance increases and their fear of death crumbles.  

Passing through these stages may take months or even days with significant overlap between them.  In retrospect, I can see my wife moving quickly through each of these stages over a handful of days.  She didn’t know what was happening and neither did we.  One of the reasons we don’t always recognize this process is precisely what makes it fundamentally human - the individual is trying to solve their problems.  It’s instinctive to seek options to ease our own pain.   How can we tell when someone crosses that razor fine line between coping and the downward spiral when it looks the same?

It’s important to understand that a death by suicide is something that happened to your loved one rather than a series of rational choices.  Inside the experience of intense pain, time stops, rational thought leaves you and the options narrow.  We’re not inside their heads but we can map out the path they took.  Consider this: imagine you’ve lost something precious down a deep well.  You climb down inside, searching ever deeper for it.  You know it’s there but you can’t find it.  Darkness falls and now you’re stuck clinging to the wall.   How deep is the well?  No one hears your cries for help.  You’re cold and your muscles are giving out.  How long could you hold on?

A reasonable person with perspective does not choose death.   Yet as a culture, we still lay blame and responsibility in the dead person’s lap.  What we don’t understand, we externalize.  They decided to kill themselves, right?  This assumption lacks empathy.  The raw fact is in a similar situation, we might make the same “choice” as well.  Everyone has a limit.

After my wife died, the pain of losing her has been intense and unyielding.  I longed to be with her.  My own death seemed the only choice to accomplish this goal.  If she’d dealt with her pain by running off to Antarctica, I’d want to follow her there.  What has protected me from following the path we’ve outlined?  

For starters, I see life from a different angle.   While I’m an internalizer, I also give the world it’s fair share of responsibility.  Sometimes shit just happens and life isn’t fair.  As a recovering control freak, I now acknowledge my high need for control - and the limits of it.  Most of the time, I control by choosing not to fight.  

Our motivations are different as well.  What pushed her down the path was a tangle of events she found too complicated to resolve.  Similarly, I too have a complicated tangle of grieving her while sorting out the estate, comforting the kids, and making very difficult choices for my life.  

One big difference between me and most people is that I never fail.  It’s not that I don’t make mistakes, of course; it’s what I do with these adverse experiences.  In my mind, they are puzzles to solve.  Even as an optimist, I’ve had to work on that mindset.  Understanding something is powerful.  It also strips away anger.  Following knowledge to the root brings clarity.  I just don’t feel angry towards my wife because she didn’t choose to leave us.  She was trying to relieve a terrible pain with the only methods she knew.  She didn’t understand the implications herself.

Right now, I’m solving the puzzle of my wife’s suicide.  Even if I get deep in the well of figuring it out, I’ve got my safety rope to climb back up.  Another tsunami could easily knock me off right now.  The tsunami is the perfect storm.   Given the right set of circumstances, we’re each at risk for suicide.  Research is still figuring out the puzzle of prevention for now.   In the meantime, when the world acts upon you, control by deciding to be vulnerable.  And wherever you go, take your own rope.

#grief #suicide #suicide loss #suicide loss survivor #stages of suicide #Baumeister

[lilschwiebbs]

*Gender and Rhetoric*

In this entry I will examine the critical questions: What gender/sexuality norm is constructed or undone in this artifact, how is it rhetorically done, and/or how does it promote a dominant ideology over a marginalized group or push back against the ideology or gender norms? Is it productive/unproductive (ethical/unethical)? To investigate these questions, I examined Kacey Musgraves’ song, “Pageant Material.” In this song, the gender norm that all Southern girls are natural born pageant girls is deconstructed by Musgraves as she sings about the reality of who she is while pushing back against this ideology, doing so in a productive way by conveying that it’s okay to be yourself even if it means not fitting in. 

“Pageant Material” was released by American singer and songwriter Kacey Musgraves on June 23, 2015. The song is about growing up in the South with certain expectations of the ways girls are supposed to act. Musgraves wrote the song to make the point that she never fit that mold. She plays on the idea of beauty pageant competitions to add a humorous touch on her own experiences growing up in the South and not fitting in with how young Southern girls are taught to act. 

Judith Butler (2004) explains that gender is not a biological truth, but a social construct or a tool of our own making. She identifies that “if gender is a kind of doing...in part, without one’s knowing and without one’s willing, it is not for that reason automatic or mechanical”. Rather, it is something that we have created and can alter within our lives (p. 1). Although, according to Butler, gender should be left to individuals to decide upon and own for themselves, social norms instead influence how gender is defined by the individual. She argues that it is necessary and possible to deconstruct or “undo” gender in order to avoid norms that could be harmful to society. Furthermore, Butler believes that to see gender as binary is a “regulatory operation of power that naturalizes” (p. 43). In other words, by seeing gender as binary, society creates a structure that dictates what we can and cannot do. This structure then becomes the “common sense” that we follow even though it might not make any sense at all. If we let this concept become natural by not thinking critically about it, it can damage us and society.

In her lyrics, Musgraves challenges the gender norm that all Southern girls are natural born pageant girls by referring to her own experiences as a Southern girl. For example, she sings “if I had to walk down a runway in high heels in front of the whole town I’d fall down.” That is, being a Southern girl doesn’t necessarily mean that she fits the standards of a pageant girl. Additionally she sings “Sometimes I talk before I think, I’ve tried to fake it but I can’t. I’d rather lose for what I am than win for what I ain’t.” In these lyrics she is pointing out that she can’t hold her tongue and speak the way proper Southern girls are supposed to. Instead, she pushes back against the norm by saying that she’d rather be genuine and lose than be a fake and win. She is not afraid to speak the truth of who she is and own it. 

It is important to note that there are some questionable lyrics in “Pageant Material” that could be considered unproductive. For example, she sings “there’s certain things your s’posed to know when you’re a girl who grows up in the South. I try to use my common sense, but my foot always ends up in my mouth.” This line could be considered unproductive because she is surrendering to a gender norm of common sense that is actually destructive to honesty and individuality and that imposes an irrational idea of the way a Southern girl should be. These points notwithstanding, Musgraves’ message is still generally productive because she is attempting to question a gender norm that she does not accept. 

Ultimately, Musgraves’ song is productive because she is telling her listeners that not all Southern girls fit the standards of being a pageant girl, and that is okay. She sings “They won’t be handing me a sash and that’s okay, cause there’s no way you’ll ever see me in a swimsuit on stage.” Through her word choice, Musgraves is expressing that she knows she does not fit the mold of being a pageant girl and that she doesn't mind because she’s not going to sacrifice her own views to satisfy the social norms of being a southern girl. In addition, she points out parts in a pageant that just don’t make sense to her even though they are the common sense of society: “and it ain’t that I don’t care about world peace, but I don’t see how I can fix it in a swimsuit on a stage.” She is questioning what everyone in society is taking at face value which is exactly what Butler believes needs to be done in order to avoid letting society create a structure that dictates how we can or cannot act. 

In “Miss America is No Ideal: The Repercussions of One Beauty,” Alicia Rodriguez Battistoni further explains how gender roles and stereotypes are at play in the social construct of how pageant girls should act and behave. She argues that pageants present women in stereotyped female roles that expect them to fit an ideal beauty and have an obedient behavior that is often personally damaging. She states that “several myths dictate how contestants should behave” and that “women who do not measure up feel inadequate and strive to change their appearance to meet the mold” (2013, p. 3). Pageants, like Miss America homogenize the concept of beauty and pressure women to objectify themselves in order to meet unrealistic standards. These idealized beauty standards and expectations of how a woman should act in a pageant set the stage for the young Southern girl who is the persona in Musgraves’ song. Musgraves’ persona defies these standards that have been placed on her as she sings that she would rather be herself than someone who she is not. She is stubbornly genuine and refuses to alter her appearance or personality to fit the standards of an ideal pageant girl. Tough-minded and realistic, she knows that life is not always going to be carefree, simple, or happy for someone like her: “life ain’t always roses and pantyhose” and “I just can’t wear a smile when a smile ain’t what I’m feelin.” Sometimes she will not feel like smiling, and that’s alright. Rather than pretending to be perfect or act a certain way all the time, she is once again choosing to just be her genuine self. 

In summary, Musgraves’ song “Pageant Material” deconstructs the gender norm that all Southern girls are pageant girls by using her own personal experiences as examples of how she does not fit this mold. The lyrics she uses in this song push back against the societal “common sense” that all Southern girls are natural born pageant girls with their good manners, proper etiquette, and desire to walk on a stage in a swimsuit and heels to be rated by judges. Although there are some arguments that could be made that this song is unproductive, it is in general productive because Musgraves is breaking from the common belief that a southern girl must fake it to make it and instead she is promoting that it’s okay to be different and be yourself even if it means breaking away from the norms that society expects you to follow.

References: 

Battistoni, A. R. (2013). Miss america is no ideal: the repercussions of one beauty. Boston College. Retrieved from http://hdl.handle.net/2345/3068

Butler, J. (2004). Undoing gender. New York and London: Routledge. 

Musgraves, K. (2015, June 23). Pageant material. Youtube. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2uN5Ge-ICDM

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As she pursued her dream of becoming a fashion model, veering for years between extreme dieting and overeating, Park I Seul realized she had a problem: She was not tall and skinny, like typical runway models, nor was she big enough to be a plus-size model.

She also realized that the only way to meet South Korea’s lofty beauty standards was for her to continuously deny who she truly is.

So Park, 25, began calling herself a “natural size model” — a nearly unheard of term in South Korea — which she defines as someone with the same kind of body you see in daily life, as opposed to a difficult-to-attain ideal. She began to get work, and she started a popular YouTube channel where she introduces fashions for women who look more like her than like the women in fashion magazines.

Her newfound positive view of her body makes her part of a growing movement by South Korean women to resist what they see as extreme pressure to look a certain way.

Hundreds of young women have taken to social media with the hashtag “talcorset,” or take off the corset, to encourage others to free themselves from social stereotypes about their appearance that they feel have long bound them.

Park recently held what she called a “nondiscriminatory” fashion show in Seoul, where models varied in height and weight confidently strode across the stage. Other women have posted online photos or video clips showing themselves cutting their hair short, destroying their beauty products and going to school or work without makeup.

In South Korea, a woman weighing over 50 kilograms (110 pounds) is considered by many to be chubby, regardless of how tall she is.

Park herself is 165 centimeters (5 feet 5 inches) tall and weighs 62 kilograms (137 pounds), which she says puts her far from the minimum 170 centimeters (5 feet 7 inches) and 40 to 48 kilograms (88 to 106 pounds) weight that conventional fashion models have; she’s also nowhere near the XL and above sizes demanded for plus-size models.

“I used to think that my fat body wasn’t the real me and that living in such a body wasn’t my real life. I kept denying myself. I believed that my life would only become happy after I lost weight,” Park said. “I’ve come to think that I look good enough just the way I am.”

As more women begin to embrace feminism, there’s also a new willingness to challenge strict South Korean societal demands that force women to take extreme care of their looks, according to Sohn Hee-jeong, a researcher at the Institute of Gender Studies at Yonsei University in Seoul.

Consider, for instance, a video by Cha Ji Won, a 24-year-old YouTuber who runs a channel called “Korean Womyn.” The video, which has gotten more than 720,000 views, shows her daily routine after she stopped obsessing over her hair and wearing makeup every day and began choosing and wearing comfortable clothes. It now takes her half the time to prepare to go outside as in the past, and she says she eats whatever she wants and doesn’t think about calories.

“I hoped that by letting other women know that there is someone like me, I could remind them that they don’t have to care too much (about how they look) and spend so much money and time on their appearance,” Cha said in an interview.

The movement can also be found in schools.

An 18-year-old high school senior who wished to be identified only by her last name, Hong, because of worries about her future studies recently exposed a series of lectures at her all girls’ school that promoted a focus on women’s appearance as they entered college. The lecture titles included, “Makeup for college freshmen,” ″Fashion styling for college freshmen” and “How to make a healthy body figure.”

Hong objected to her high school recommending classes that appeared to encourage female students to “take care” of their appearance. Hong and some other students contacted journalists to complain about the lectures, prompting the school to remove the classes.

Hong said she put on makeup for the first time when she was in elementary school and was wearing full makeup by high school. She no longer wears makeup and questions why women must always be judged on how they look. However, many children are ashamed of what in Korean is called ssaeng-eol, or bare face, Hong says, and won’t go outside without makeup.

Choi Min Jeong, a former employee at a beverage company, still remembers her boss telling her that she had to work harder because she wasn’t as beautiful as a popular South Korean actress.

“Although he said it as a joke, I thought it was ridiculous that he said it when ... my job was unrelated to appearance,” Choi said.

Airline companies often demand a stricter dress code for female flight attendants, according to Kwon Su Jeong, a Seoul councilwoman who has worked for Asiana, a major South Korean airline, for 24 years. Kwon is currently on a leave of absence to work in the city council.

“They control everything, from your hairstyle to the color of your lipstick and nails to the length and shape of your earrings,” Kwon said.

Although Asiana eased a “skirts-only” rule in 2013, many flight attendants still wear them because of worries of negative performance appraisals, Kwon said. Asiana strongly denied that it makes unfair demands or puts pressure on its employees regarding attire or appearance.

Kwon said the company’s upper management wants its flight attendants to uphold an image of a graceful, beautiful Asian woman who provides sincere service to customers. Because the company cares a lot about the appearance of its female employees it puts subtle pressure on them to have cosmetic procedures, she said.

“Although the company is rigid about taking a day off because of injury at work, it is more lenient about taking time off for cosmetic procedures,” Kwon said.

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