#always my most authentic self. never not true to my essence

[therootednomad]

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[blissfullyecho]

How to Build a High-Value Personal Brand for 2025

Join my 3-hour live workshop on Zoom, where we will create a tailored luxe glow-up plan personalized for you for 2025. Seats are limited and are first come, first served. Click here for more info.

A high-value personal brand speaks for itself and doesn’t need constant validation. To craft this kind of brand, you need intention, strategy, and most importantly, confidence.

Start by defining your unique value proposition. To build a standout personal brand, it’s crucial to understand what makes you different. Think about what you offer that others can’t. Your brand should be rooted in authenticity—clarifying what you’re known for, whether it’s expertise, passions, or core values. This isn’t about being everything to everyone; it’s about being clear on what you bring to the table.

A consistent visual identity is key to elevating your brand. Your aesthetic must align with the image you want to project, whether through social media, a website, or content. Everything should reflect a polished, professional image that exudes sophistication and exclusivity. A consistent color palette, style, and tone in your visuals will reinforce your brand’s message, ensuring it feels cohesive and high-end.

Your online presence is your first impression, so it needs to be impeccable. High-value women don’t indulge in oversharing or negativity. They create and post content thoughtfully, aligning it with their values and showcasing their lifestyle, expertise, and mission. Each post or interaction should reflect your tone—confident, poised, and purposeful. Engage with others in a way that shows you value their attention but also maintain an air of exclusivity.

Your voice must be unmistakable. The most powerful personal brands have a signature style of communication. Whether you’re writing, speaking, or engaging in casual conversation, your tone should radiate authority and confidence. People should know exactly what to expect from you and be drawn to your unique way of expressing yourself. Whether it’s your writing style, speech patterns, or even how you present yourself in person, everything should reflect the strength of your personal brand.

Networking is an essential part of building a high-value personal brand. Cultivate relationships with people who align with your vision and can help elevate you to the next level. Don’t waste time networking for the sake of it—focus on building meaningful, mutually beneficial connections. Surround yourself with individuals who respect and support your growth, and who can open doors that might otherwise remain closed.

Staying true to your core values is non-negotiable. Your personal brand should be grounded in principles that guide every decision you make. Whether it’s integrity, self-respect, or authenticity, your values should remain unwavering. A high-value brand is built on consistency and trust, which means never compromising your standards to chase approval or popularity.

Make sure you’re seen and heard in the right places. Position yourself where your ideal peers are. Don’t try to fit into spaces that don’t resonate with your new brand or that dilute your value. You need to ensure your presence is visible in circles that align with your mission and values.

Finally, invest in yourself. Your personal brand is a reflection of your commitment to growth. Continuously improving your skills, upgrading your wardrobe, or even seeking coaching will all contribute to your personal brand’s evolution. The most powerful personal brands are built by women who are always leveling up and never stagnating. When you invest in yourself, your brand reflects that growth and continues to attract more opportunities.

A high-value personal brand isn’t about pretending to be someone you’re not. It’s about embodying who you truly are and aligning every part of your presence with that authentic essence. When you consistently show up as your best self and project your worth unapologetically, opportunities will flow your way.

Join my 3-hour live workshop on Zoom, where we will create a tailored luxe glow-up plan personalized for you for 2025. Seats are limited and are first come, first served. Click here for more info.

[outfitqueer]

The Tipping Point

Deciding to Come Out @outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

Deciding to come out was like reaching the peak of a mountain I had been climbing for years, often without realizing how steep the incline was.

For so long, I had been carrying the weight of my true identity, hidden beneath layers of fear, uncertainty, and societal expectations.

But there comes a point where the burden becomes too heavy, and the idea of continuing to live a life that isn’t yours feels more unbearable than the fear of what might happen if you finally let go.

In the months leading up to my decision, the internal struggle became almost constant.

It was as if every aspect of my life was being filtered through this lens of dissonance.

Simple interactions—buying clothes, talking to friends, even just walking down the street—were charged with a quiet but persistent reminder that I was living a life that didn’t align with who I truly was.

I’d look at other women, not with envy, but with a deep sense of recognition and longing.

They were living the life I wanted, the life that felt like it should be mine.

One of the most challenging parts was the internal dialogue that raged on, often late at night when I was alone with my thoughts.

I’d go back and forth, trying to convince myself that I could keep going as I was, that maybe it wasn’t so bad.

But the truth was, every day that passed where I didn’t live as my authentic self felt like a day wasted, a day where I was denying the very essence of who I was.

There were also those moments—sharp, crystallizing moments—where the dissonance was impossible to ignore.

Like the time I found myself avoiding my reflection in a store window, not because I disliked how I looked, but because I didn’t recognize the person staring back at me.

Or when a friend casually commented on how they couldn’t imagine being anyone but who they were, and I realized with startling clarity that I had never truly felt that way about myself.

But the final tipping point wasn’t a single moment; it was a culmination of many.

It was the slow, steady realization that the pain of hiding was greater than the fear of being seen.

It was recognizing that every time I pushed my true self down, I was only prolonging the inevitable.

I remember sitting alone one evening, the weight of everything pressing down on me, and thinking, “I can’t keep doing this.” That thought was followed by another, softer but more resolute: “I deserve to be happy. I deserve to be me.”

From that moment, the decision was made.

It wasn’t sudden or impulsive; it was the result of years of internal struggle and self-reflection.

But once I allowed myself to acknowledge it, there was no turning back.

The fear was still there—of course it was—but it was now accompanied by a sense of determination, a quiet but firm resolve that I was going to come out, no matter what.

In that decision, there was a strange mixture of terror and relief.

I knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time, I felt like I was moving toward something real, something that truly belonged to me. And that made all the difference.

Coming out wasn’t just about telling others who I was; it was about finally telling myself, and in doing so, beginning the process of becoming whole.

It was the moment when I chose authenticity over fear, truth over silence.

And in that choice, I found the strength to step into the light and begin living the life I was always meant to live.

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

[aihoshiino]

So Hikaru basically can't have anyone brighter than Ai huh? But I am curious what makes him want that. There is just so less about him ajd whatever we have about him is either confusing or fake-ish. He is also having mentality of Ai being the strongest and the most invicible. But we know Ai wasn't like that it was just a lie. But technically speaking Ai could have never lied to Hikaru. So it is either Ai was just super good at lying and hiding and/or after Ai's rejection and especially that "I don't know" Hikaru might have felt that Ai can't be vulnerable nd is so indifferent. She is bound to be strongest and the most invincible. But then why and what exactly is hikaru doing? Throughout the series there are so many questions regarding so many things, istg if Aka doesn't answer them-

My take on Kamiki, even now, is that he wants to preserve and maintain the legacy of 'Ai of B-Komachi', even years after her death. We don't quite have enough information to properly nail down his motives and inner workings yet, though I am currently treating some of the info we got in 15YL as true enough, just for the purposes of having like, literally anything to work with - but I have always thought and do still think that the HKAI breakup and everything else to do with their relationship comes down to their own dogshit self images.

When Ai tells Kamiki "I can't love you", this is in essence an apology - we know that up until the moment she died, Ai struggled with her ability to authentically express love in the sense that she was terrified she was incapable of doing so. It took having Aqua and Ruby and living with them for years and being on the verge of death for her to even be able to risk saying it and even then she seems awed and relieved that her words were true. When she says those words to Kamiki, she's saying "I can't love you, because I'm broken and I can't love anyone."

Hikaru, very understandably, hears this as "I can't love you because you're broken and nobody can."

Each of them internalizes the blame for the relationship falling apart. Thus, it's possible for Ai to have accidentally ripped his heart out like she did while not compromising his image of her. This sense of losing her, being unworthy of her while still longing after and adoring her is like the perfect cocktail of fucked up brain chemicals to have turned his feelings for her into the present day obsession they seem to be, at least imo.

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

THE GIRL IS A SWAN : THE SYMBOLISM OF BEAUTY & MAGIC. BEAUTY TIPS & MORE

Every girls dream is to be as pretty & elegant as the swan.

I want to go in deeper about the perception and symbolism of the swan, which is my inspiration for this post I'm making.

The swan is a symbol of beauty through the enactment of gentleness, creative expression, femininity and grace. In this post, my focus is based on the spirituality of beauty, grace, and the prospering of the divine feminine code. The beauty that is Venus, and that Venusian power is full of love, compassion, & understanding. It is imcomparable to other forms of its nature. And has been a blessing to humanity for ages.

The beauty tips I want to express to everyone is through the art of creating a new look and flow for yourself. How the divine essence that you carry can express itself through the power of grace, and doesn't need to be tainted by outside forces.

The swan is a symbol of methamorphasis. Have you ever seen a baby swan grow into itself? Or have you ever heard of the story 'The Ugly Duckling?' Transformation is a theme when dealing with our looks because it's always growing, changing, and trends around beauty are constantly moving. Always on to the next big thing, but one thing that will always stay true is that vibration and energy never lies. And even if beauty and the standards around it change, it doesn't mean that you have to.

So with that being said, let's get into some beauty tips and embracing some swan magic !

Start slow.

There is never a need to rush, darlings. The gentleness that is needed to pamper ourselves is to simply bask into every bit of experience that is left throughout the day. When we force ourselves to rush into an experience, we are taking away from its pure beauty. And that itself is exhausting. If there is one thing that I've learned throughout my years, is that to fully comprehend the energy that is displaying itself all around us is to simply stop, and enjoy the show. The swan is never seen rushing.. even when flying it shows forth its magnificence through its slow burning movements. Its wings carry a force by simply taking it's time. Not trying to speed through anything.

When it comes to beauty, and applying makeup or putting on our clothes, what's the rush? Do you take your time to put things together? To find something worth meaning, authenticity or do you occasional rush from time to time. This works for some but not everyone, being spontaneous is sometimes out of the swan's reach. But for you, it's not always bad. However.. it needs a little bit of thought. And that shouldn't be a problem.

When it comes to our hair, our clothes, our skin, and anything in between we gotta first come to terms with what is it that makes us feel good. The art of taking your time is a sensual grace that can become a powerful force.

Expressing your divine femininity.

Okay, so first off. Let's talk about divine femininity not always being about the most girliest things. Dresses, makeup, lashes, heels. All these things don't make for a feminine individual. It simply has no filter.

So what those this mean? When it comes to your self expression, the power of your creativity is through the act of emotion. The way you flow into the room and make your presence known is your feminine flow. But again, it has nothing to do with being 'girly', you simply just have to walk the walk.

When expressing our divine femininity, it can be through an outlet of some form. If its fashion, cool. If its dance, great. If it's your speech, even better. All in all, practice expressing your femininity through what you love most. That's how the world see's your beauty, through embracing your divine feminine energy in the way you see fit is all that matters.

Always. Stay. Calm.

Swans are notorious for being peaceful, and aren't too prone to being aggressive. Now I'm not saying you can't tell a mf off, but please be discreet. Not everyone deserves it. It's time to start easing yourself into a more relaxing aura. Be cool. Be smart. And stay to yourself. If someone tries to get you out of character just know its them and not you. Some things are better left unsaid, and to be honest with you, some things are just beneath you. It is what it is.

Enjoying The Experience

Being in the now is always perfect timing. You could've been anywhere else, but you're right here. Where you need to be.

Enjoying the moment is all we have in this lifetime, not getting too caught up with whatever is outside of you, and focusing on whats within and around you. It's an art to being in the present, and just taking in the joy of the reality you set foot in. How more magical can it get? It starts with you.

And now, my favorite part of the post. Is getting into the metaphysics of this animal symbolism.

If you believe in animal spirits, and the energy they symbolize then hey, this is for you. Glad you could make it :)

The Swan's Magic

So what I want to start off by expressing is that everything has a vibration. Energy is everything and nothing at the same time. And what I want to express to you guys is that with swan magic increasing into the forefront it means to creatively express your unique senses in every part of your finger tips. Your presence is an authentic source of creation and the flow that you carry is an artform in itself. I said this before but differently, I just need y'all to get it into your school. You are a masterpiece, a canvas, an ocean of art, life, & beauty. You gotta feel that. And own it.

So when I speak about the vibration of swans, it's more of a dark force that can be deeply felt but not easily meant to be explored.

We're not meant to be fully perceived in all our glory. A Muse's beauty is meant to be on a pedestal and to be seen in all her light, what's most alluring about her always stays in the shadows for the right people to see. Most will never be able to see her true light, its a treasure. That's what being a goddess is primarily about.

The vibration focuses on etherealism. A remarkable essence that is built off inspiring others into a calmness, delightful magic. That is the aura of the swan magician. <3

This is a little post on my thoughts on swan magic, and overall embracing the energy that is divinely feminine. I hope you all enjoyed!

[cosmichighpriestess]

Chosen Ones, Cursebreakers, Black Sheep turned into Golden Child, you were never the black sheep you were always the Golden child disguised as nothing and now you really have done a lot of inner work on yourself and you think no one noticed but the entire Universe noticed, witnessed and felt the change you made within. You impacted the entire Universe by choosing forgiveness and removing limiting beliefs from your consciousness. Never think your light doesn't matter. Your vibration, your essence, your unique light is so needed otherwise you wouldn't even exist because creation doesn't make mistakes.

But many people you know are not used to meeting someone like you with boundaries and pure authenticity. They are used to people going along with the status quo, they are used to people agreeing with them, getting away with using them, no equal give and take, listening to their drama, their finger pointing, their negative, limiting mindsets, codependency, and they are used to people who have low standards for themselves who do not love themselves and have low self esteem. And those people are all worthy of love and you tried to show them didn't you?

You on the other hand, chosen one, you have high standards for yourself, and you always had the mentality of quality over quantity. But many people lied to you about their true intentions with you and their true character, which was manipulative and you chose to see the best in them regardless of how badly they hurt you, tried to control you, belittle you, downplay your gifts, gaslight you etc. Some of you almost died several times from their abuse. But the Divine saw it all. Heard every conversation said about you and every lie told about you. You thought the Divine forgot just because you forgave them? The forgiveness was for YOU my love, to heal yourself and to know yourself as love, your true self, to shift timelines for your benefit to reach your highest self. On the lower timelines they are still being abusive to another version of you, yes. Please send that version of you all the love and wisdom they need through your heart center. You think the Divine forgot about those versions of you and them abusing you relentlessly without reason?

These people from your past lower dimensions of consciousness had every intention of using you, abusing you and discarding you when they were done with you because they couldn't control you. Yes they may be ignorant, blind to who you are, and unconsciously hurting that version of you. But they don't see the army behind you. You are uncontrollable and untouchable, especially now as you've advanced and ascended and blocked people from accessing you. All they can do is watch you. That is all. They can't hurt you anymore. But, the Divine is furious on your behalf of what they did to you when you were a blessing, a gift sent to help them heal on their own journey. They didn't want your help.

They wanted to ignore healing themselves and abuse you instead because they had false, negative distorted thoughts about you that were all lies sold to them from the ones who seek your downfall and you were a threat to them because they didn't know how to take accountability for their toxic, lower vibrational actions and your light exposed their darkness. See, what they don't know is that you're going to get everything you ever wanted and more. All your dreams are coming true. But they never believed in you and never saw you through a clear lens. Always forgive them, always send them love because they need it the most, if they are projecting onto you and others, especially now.

You are very protected at all times. Always remember, Angels and demons are not the same as humans. They not only work together to bring justice to us but they revel in it. We don't understand how they can destroy lives and bathe in the blood of their enemies. I don't understand it because I come from a realm of unconditional love, compassion and light. Everyone held the same level of compassion as me. In the higher dimensions. So do, pray for your enemies in the lower timelines, they do still exist but they can't touch you because you're too high. Light a candle and pray for them because justice is being served on a silver platter just for you and what they chose to do to a divine one when they refused to heal and treat you with the respect you always deserved. I love you, please hold no more pain from the past you're not going there.

[caesarandthecity]

The Painful Path of Self-Knowledge

Self-knowledge hurts. It breaks you. Turns you inside out. Suddenly, you start seeing the world with different eyes, from a new perspective, in a completely different reality. And this new reality, at first, it hurts. It’s painful. Because it’s not what you want to see, it’s what you need to see. I watched people I loved become the worst versions of themselves, right before my eyes, in the blink of an eye.

Self-knowledge, if you allow it, changes every aspect of your life. And all you need to do is embrace it. Even where you thought there was order, self-knowledge brings chaos, destroys everything, and then rebuilds it all over again, in a solid, authentic way that truly connects with who you are.

Self-knowledge is a dance, an activity, maybe even a hobby. You spend time with it, then step away, only to return and dive deeper. It’s a constant dance. You question everything in your life. Questions and answers arise like a game, and before you know it, superficial issues lead you to dive into something much deeper, something hidden deep in your soul, waiting to be brought to the surface. This journey to bring what’s hidden to the surface is the true "Hero’s Journey." It’s mine, it’s your journey. It comes from deep within the soul, where self-knowledge reveals your true self, your essence, what you really came to be in this world.

And self-knowledge is liberating. Because it gives you such an understanding of yourself that, inevitably, you begin to understand others better. You start noticing energies, feelings, pain, hurt, joy... things that once went unnoticed. It’s not just about seeing, it’s about feeling together. It’s understanding that the emotions someone shows are real and match what they’re expressing, and vice versa. It’s beautiful, but it’s painful. For me, it was devastating because it made me reevaluate all my relationships, and I realized that in all of them, I was being abused.

I had to take action. I had to cut those people out, one by one. Because I learned that where there is abuse, there is no love. Dependence is much more painful than love. I grew up being abused by a family I believed was mine, and I learned that it was never love. It was always abuse. Always. And I had to cut them out, one by one. Along with that, I reevaluated all my friends, my friendships, what I thought was true friendship. And that hurt even more.

I had friends I thought would be forever, friends who were like brothers and sisters, you know? The kind of friends you imagine you’ll carry with you for the rest of your life. But those relationships I had to reassess. And after understanding that I needed to cut them out, I realized I was much happier, complete, and free... alone. I know people are afraid of this. Who wants to reassess a marriage when they know they’re not happy? Who wants to reevaluate their relationship with their parents when they believe they’re perfect, and that they deserve to suffer? Who wants to rethink their job when it gives them status and money, but not happiness? Who wants to face the mirror, knowing they don’t like what they see and do nothing to change it? Who wants to accept their own flaws, their own shadows, bring them to light, work on them, embrace them? Who wants to ask for forgiveness for all they’ve done, and worse, learn to forgive for those apologies that were never received? Who wants to see the lies told right to their face, coming from the ones they love the most?

Self-knowledge is a war you have to fight. But the most interesting thing about this war is that there is only one winner, and that winner is you. In self-knowledge, you don’t lose, nor do you win. You learn. And there’s no other path but to move forward and rise.

A life without self-knowledge is a life not lived. And for those who feel the call, don’t deny it. Just begin the journey.

[thissliceofnonsense]

Okay. Let me try my hand at this.

Starting off the general point/metaphor/ message because I like to start from there. (I'm listening to AJR's neotheater so that may affect this.)

How about - you aren't the same person you were a few years ago, months ago, or even days ago. You will always be changing, the personality you once were, is gone and you can't stop yourself from changing - in essence, control over your own mental world.

As far as main character goes... how about someone who is effortlessly able to 'switch their personality' to match the one who would best fit the person they are around. They have been able to do this for as long as they can remember, and as far as they are concerned, this is the only part of their personality that has been consistent. They cling to this 'magic power' unconsciously, getting defensive whenever someone asks them to 'be themself' or 'be authentic'. They've been able to be the best person possible for everyone else, they don't know what their true personality is like. Do they actually like that color? Is that actually their favorite show? Arte they actually a nice person? Are they selfish? Arrogant? They don't really know.

What they want most in the world is to have a more consistent personality, perhaps they have a fuzzy memory of who they used to be when they were little, but they know that no one called them 'unauthentic' when they were young, so they desperately try to figure out (subtly of course) who they were when they were young and try to act like that, be their 'true self'.

They want this because they think that others will trust them. Never in their life has anyone seen them as trustworthy or a good friend. And the constant apprehension towards them is getting old. They are so tired of being lonely even when they are surrounded by people. They just want to be the one that makes the others happy instead of guarded.

As far as beliefs and fears go. They believe that deep down inside, they have a 'true personality' that they need to bring back. That their 'magic power' is actually a curse covering up who they truly are.

They fear that they are nothing. No one. That their whole personality is just copies and constant changing to match others. Do they even exist if all they are is a collection of reflections?

Basically - this song: (" I hope I made you smile, that's all I ever wanted". )

AND NOW, PLOT - Let's say the protagonist is meeting up with childhood friends that they haven't seen since they became an adult. (And perhaps one of these friends is the original one who told the protagonist that they aren't authentic and are 'really fake', and the protagonist cares a lot about the opinion of this person). And to their surprise, they can't personality shift anymore, instead, they feel quite.. dull, and are easily influenced. They get really scared, thinking that this is who they truly are (nothing) and tries to figure out how to get their personality shifting back, because even that was better than nothing. And I'm guessing that some of these childhood friends aren't so toxic, and they help the protagonist realize they have always shifted their personality and there is nothing wrong with that. And they realize that they never had a set personality to begin with, not even 'this magic power' is consistent. They will always be changing and can never 'keep' one personality, not even the fact that they change personalities is consistent. So they decide to enjoy this weird thing called life instead and find others who understand that they won't ever get 'the true *character name*' because there isn't one. I imagine they become a plant parent and get a cat.

And maybe all the friends have 'tiny magic powers' also, perhaps that's one of the reasons they are friends.

If anyone else see's this, here what I would need help with if I were to continue this.

Names for character (They are going to be non-binary and from the middle east because I said so... and they are lithromatic asexual because happier aspec characters :) )

Names for childhood friends

In general, suggestions and ideas.

Thanks for listening to my thots. :)

i wonder if magic is real, but only in a really mundane way.

when i was little i could almost inerringly switch back to disney channel right as the ads ended when i was channel surfing.

maybe youve never accidentally crushed a ladybug underfoot. maybe your microwave popcorn never burns. maybe you can spin around lots and lots of times before you get dizzy.

is that magic??

honestly im not sure if these are magic or just small, invisible skills. im not sure which i like better.

[aryanamata]

Critique:

The Diary of Anne Frank

writer name: Anne frank

Introduction:

The introduction of "The Diary of Anne Frank" effectively sets the stage by introducing Anne Frank as a young Jewish girl living in hiding during the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands. It provides necessary background information about the historical context and the significance of Anne's diary as a firsthand account of the Holocaust.

Summary:

The summary of "The Diary of Anne Frank" captures the essence of Anne's experiences and emotions while in hiding. It highlights her struggles, fears, and hopes, as well as the relationships and dynamics within the Secret Annex. The summary effectively conveys the impact of Anne's diary in shedding light on the human experience during the Holocaust.

Evaluation:

The evaluation of "The Diary of Anne Frank" praises the authenticity and rawness of Anne's writing. It recognizes the diary's historical significance in documenting the lives of Jews in hiding and the atrocities committed by the Nazis. The evaluation also acknowledges the universal themes of resilience, hope, and the power of the human spirit portrayed in Anne's narrative.

Conclusion:

The conclusion of "The Diary of Anne Frank" emphasizes the lasting impact of Anne's diary as a testament to the human capacity for survival and the importance of remembering the Holocaust. It highlights the educational value of the diary in educating future generations about the horrors of war and the importance of tolerance and acceptance.

True Narratives

True narratives are accounts of real events or experiences presented in a narrative form. They aim to provide an accurate and factual representation of historical or personal events.

Examples of true narratives include historical accounts, memoirs, biographies, and documentaries.

Testimonies

Testimonies are firsthand accounts or statements given by individuals who have witnessed or experienced a particular event or situation. Testimonies are often used as evidence to support claims or provide insights into historical, social, or personal contexts.

MY UNHAPPY VALENTINE

MARCH 26 2024

Love is kind. Love is patient, It does not envy, it does not boast, It is not proud, It does not dishonor others, is not self-seeking, It is not easily angered, It keepd no record of wrong. Love doed not delight in evil not rejoices with the truth. It always protect always hopes, always preserves.

"love never fails". often times we look at a certain point in our lives with regret. as we grow old, our perspective of the world is altered by our own experiences, motives, and maturity. love is one of the most beautiful thing we can discover with in ourselves and give to the world.

Depending on peoples own experiences on love, it gives everyone different kind of emotions. But love can also be destructive and mentally exhausting. Many people have been around negative, unhealthy, toxic behavior and to some extent, tried to normalize it. this environment has started to be normalized how unhealthy it is.

You validate, rationalize and screep issues under the rug because "this is just what happens in relationship" i constantly have aasked my self" have women lowered their standard for a man? how lowered my standard when loving someone?

[my-deepest-desires]

With magnetic charm and timeless elegance, Iris Apfel, a beacon of style and inspiration, bid farewell to this life yesterday at the remarkable age of 102.

A trailblazer for liberated women, she embodied the essence of living authentically, advocating for the pursuit of one’s own unique path with unwavering confidence. Her legacy resonates with the message of embracing individuality, not letting the opinions of others affect you, and reveling in the joy of living life to the fullest, regardless of age and societal expectations.

Known for her vibrant colors and extravagant fabrics, she was a true alternative style fashion diva, reigning as the queen of her own realms with effortless shine and flair.

A few master quotes of Iris Apfel:

“You don’t have to be an artist to be a creator, because creativity comes in a lot of forms, like cooking or keeping a house or dressing well. What you need is imagination, to make things up for yourself.”

“Whatever happened to the cultivation of the inner self? It’s painful and it’s work, but it always pays off.”

“I never expect anything. I just feel things in my gut and I do them. If something sounds exciting and interesting, I do it—and then I worry about it later. Doing new things takes a lot of energy and strength. It’s very tiring to make things happen, to learn how to master a skill, to push fears aside. Most people would rather just go with the flow; it’s much easier. But it’s not very interesting.”

“You don’t have to look like an old fuddy-duddy, but I believe it was Chanel who said, ‘Nothing makes a woman look so old as trying desperately hard to look young’. I think you can be attractive at any age. I think trying to look like a spring chicken when you’re not makes you look ridiculous.”

“I don’t see anything so wrong with a wrinkle, it’s kind of a badge of courage”

“You only have one trip, and the present is all you’ve got. The past isn’t coming back, and the future isn’t here yet! So live each day as though it were your last. And one day you’ll be right.”

So long, Iris Apfel. You have been and remain a huge inspiration. 🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜

[veraciousverax]

15 reasons why I value myself

1. My taste is unparalleled. I know how to have a good time with each of my senses

2. I love my mind/imagination. I have such genius ideas, stories, ventures and solutions

3. I’m unafraid. I’m willing to try anything, that might be the source of my confidence

4. I’m adaptable and able to talk myself into and be comfortable in many rooms. (It’s up to me to decide to show up)

5. I’m beautiful (it goes a long way)

6. I’m never afraid to be true.

7. I’m good at most things I try/ the learning curve is never steep

8. Another one for my mind bc my curiosity keeps me sane

9. I value my west African Ga/Yoruba heritage. Strong blood = strong spirit

10. My willingness and love for learning is a secret weapon and makes me extra competent by default

Damn.. I can’t believe it let people who don’t deeply care about me torture me and use me as a means to their ends.. fuck em. Auntie K, M and E are on that list.

11. I’m resourceful. My strong will always provides a way. My competence + discernment ensure I get the best out of any experience I choose

12. My intellect speaks for itself. It feels good to know that most people find me smart and witty!

13. I highly value my authenticity. It’s taken a long time to build self-trust + confidence and it’s preciously invaluable.

I remember when I used to cry in the mirror getting ready for school and melt down at the sight of my hair. Or even pine for long hair, or let envious people disrespect me because my very existence brought out their insecurity SMH (Jessica and Abby were the same adversary…)

14. I value my spirit/ the essence that projects my patronum. I value my spiritual trust and awareness.

15. I value my kindness. It comes so naturally to me, because I know how it feels to be cast away, but I generally and genuinely take pleasure in being able to bring light into peoples lives (if they can see me.)

[rahuratna]

I honestly needed a moment to appreciate just HOW MUCH you poured into this story. I'm going to start by saying that this is such an incredibly evocative take on a 'grey' version of Nanami. It captures the essence of who he'd be without being bound to duty and sacrifice: Nanami the hedonist. I can't believe I just typed that, lol, and thank you for allowing me to do that, truly.

Firstly, the choice of 'The Tempest' as the play they are watching is wonderful. The idea of freedom from constraints, whether physical or not, ties in so beautifully with the Dorian Grey AU idea. Nanami's union with the reader later becomes exactly this, a means to break free from the chains that tie him to the past and prevent him from healing fully. He becomes a hedonist in the fullest sense, but without the pathos and sordid nature of the character of Dorian Grey. Nanami, instead, returns to a scarred self that is more whole and beautiful for its truth.

Kat, just writing this out is making me realise how marvelously you've pulled this off.

Furthermore, there's something so rich and lush in your writing of this one. Your story is packed with sensuous detail, such as the way their anticipation and excitement reaches a crescendo during the course of the play. I love the way that was written, and I felt every moment of it, that familiar sensation of knowing someone you admire and desire could, in all likelihood, become your lover. That entire scene is just injected with that specific type of electric longing.

Then there was the conversation between them, echoing so beautifully some of the interactions between Dorian and Basil in the book. While Basil falls under Dorian's spell (and is wholly wretched because of it) here we see your take on a reversal of roles, where Nanami becomes entranced with the reader, enough to allow her into his inner sanctum, not so much the show of trust as a means to relieve himself of the burden he has been carrying.

This is where your portrayal of his character shines: he never loses his quiet fortitude, his desire for something better for himself, a way out of the labyrinth that eternal beauty would give him. Nanami would never be satisfied with that status quo, even as a 'grey' character. His need to be seen as his true and authentic self would always win.

Then there's the intimate scene between them. Phewwwwww. Kat. The passion between them was off the charts and in a FULLY MIRRORED BEDROOM of all things. Thank you for this blessing. 😭

But again, I have to delve deeper into that and marvel, once again, at the thought you put into the symbolism here. He makes her look at herself, and him in his scarred form, a complete and TRUE union, since a mirror shows you all your flaws and your beauty, in unrelenting detail.

And the final scene, in which she looks up at the mirror and sees their lovemaking in all its glory, her realisation at that point that what they are creating is beautiful for the truth and purity of its form, the most intimate of acts without concealment or the deception of an enchanted portrait, is such a fulfilling end to this stunning  tale.

Kat, thank you for giving me such a glorious read this evening. I took my time and relished every moment of it.

A "The Picture of Dorian Gray"!- inspired Nanami fic in two acts (From my Jjk Penny Dreadful Series-here)

*°࿐ Synopsis: After a harrowing escape from the hell of Shibuya, Nanami Kento finds a dark, twisted method to conceal the deep wounds forever etched on his flesh and spirit. He relocates to Malaysia, shedding his former identity in search of s fresh start, driven by the allure of an hedonistic lifestyle. He quickly resigns himself to a solitary existence, prioritising secrecy above all else's -that is, until one evening at the theatre, when your paths fatefully cross. What will happen next in this unfolding tale of tragedy and rebirth?

*°࿐Tags: Act 2- Nsfw + dark content (Katoptronophilia- mirror kink, softdom!nanami, fem! masturbation, pinv, breeding kink, graphic description of scar and injuries)

This work is part of the SPOOKINKY 2024 event hosted by @tsukimefuku 🖤

"Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic (...)Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing." -Oscar Wilde

࿐✧˖*° Fic Moodboard here✧˖*°࿐

Beneath the dim, flickering glow of the bakery where you work everyday, you move like a shadow, wiping the counter where the day’s sweet offerings linger—croissants, chocolate éclairs—fragrant remnants of a life half-lived. The scent clings to you, comforting yet oppressive, as you linger on the past. A year has passed since you fled into this quiet corner of Malaysia, seeking escape, yearning for the hum of the ocean outside your window. Here, in the solitude of this bakery, you’ve become a ghost—part of the background, invisible to all but the clock and the empty tables.

Yet tonight, something stirs deep within you. At the end of your shift, you return to your cozy apartment, heading to your bedroom to let your fingers graze the golden ticket on your nightstand, a silent promise of a dream that has been lingering in your personal space for weeks: The Tempest. Tonight, the magic of Shakespeare’s world will finally become your own. You slip into the emerald night dress you bought for this occasion, catching a fleeting glimpse of a brand new woman reborn in the mirror, staring back with a defiant gaze.

…

The air of the theater hums with electricity as you step inside, your dress shimmering like a forest at dusk. Eyes turn, glances linger. The crowd falls into a hush, a soft murmur ripples through the room. You feel their gaze—a strange, unknown sensation, both exhilarating and disquieting- you’re definitely not used to being the focus of the attention around you. As you navigate the rows to your seat, eager to find yours and hide among the crowd of faces, a chill runs down your spine. There, across the balcony, a familiar figure watches you—a tall, elegant man, poised in a timeless black tuxedo.The tailored jacket hugs his athletic frame,  the deep midnight black fabric contrasting strikingly with his fair complexion. A white pocket square elegantly peeks out from the breast pocket, while a finely knotted bow tie adds a sophisticated touch. His reserved nature, shadowed by a hint of intrigue, seems to enchant every woman in the auditorium, inviting curiosity from all who cross his path. With an air of mystery that surrounds him, he garners attention effortlessly, embodying both charm and enigma in every subtle movement.

It’s him—Mr. Nanami, the enigmatic man who has haunted the bakery for months. Always at his corner table, always with a book in hand, always distant, as though carved from some distant age. His gaze is now fixed on you, unblinking, his caramel eyes drinking in every movement you make. Even among the crowd, he is a statue, an artifact of mystery, his blonde hair gleaming under the theater’s lights, his presence too immense to ignore.

«If by your Art, my dearest father, you have

put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.

The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,

But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,

Dashes the fire out.»

The character of Miranda finally speaks, signalling the start of the play. Lights go off, the world fading into darkness around you, but his gaze never wavers. It pulses between you, an electric current that thrums in your chest. Even as the actors bring the stage to life, Nanami’s attention is all on you. His eyes trace the delicate curve of your neck, they notice the way the silk of your dress clings to your feminine figure—every movement, every breath amplified. In the silence between the scenes, memories of brief encounters in the bakery flood both of your minds—small gestures, the fleeting brush of hands as you served his command. Every mundane act now seems to acquire a deeper meaning, hinting at the long buried electricity now resurfacing in all of its power.

The actors' words echo in your mind, their tale of rediscovery mirroring your own. You feel the thread between you and Nanami tighten with each passing scene. Your heartrate is accelerates inexplicably, his hands itch imperceptibly. By the play's end, the applause is drowned by the weight of his gaze, a fleeting glance that feels like an unspoken invitation. The crowd fades, and you are lost in the depths of his eyes—amber pools that seem to hold unspeakable secrets. What darkness lingers behind them? What truths lie hidden beneath his composed exterior?

In that moment, you are both spectator and part of the story, caught between the stage and the gaze of the man who watches you from the shadows, as if you are both part of the same forgotten tale.

The applause swells, a rising tide of sound that drowns everything around you. The faces blur, the claps echo like thunder, and your senses are swept into the frenzy. Yet, goosebumps rise along your exposed back, a shiver that has nothing to do with the cold. In the midst of chaos, your consciousness fails to identify the tall figure slipping quietly behind you, a shadow stretching long across your seat. But your body doesn't: every fiber of your being tenses in alert, time stretching as if waiting for something to happen at any moment.

Nanami’s hand lingers for a heartbeat before resting on your shoulder, a firm, yet gentle touch. The unexpected pressure makes you gasp, the sound barely a whisper.

"Mr. Nanami... What a surprise," you murmur, turning to face him, your voice trembling like a prayer as you feign surprise. His name spills from your lips, the remnants of the performance still thick in the air.

"Good evening, Mrs... I apologize for the intrusion," he says, his tone softer than you expected. "I saw you in the crowd and... I couldn't resist."

His apology is followed by a smile—small, sincere, and unlike the elusive stranger you’ve come to know. You blink in disbelief, caught off guard by this sudden warmth.

"Good evening," you reply, your words stammered. "No need to apologize. I’m glad you noticed me." Beneath the surface, you are deeply surprised by the fact that he did really recognize you, a simple waitress, a face everyone easily forgets.

He chuckles softly, eyes flickering with interest as he watches you. "The actors were amazing tonight, weren't they?" he continues, easing into the conversation. " Yes, indeed” you answer “I've always been fond of drama... the way music, scenery, poetry, and dance all blend into one living thing."

He catches the spark igniting your eyes as you speak, lost in your own enthusiasm. "Yes, I think it's the perfect kind of art... a fusion of all forms. A single experience woven from many threads."

He watches you, entranced by your remarkable passion for arts. Nanami always secretly thought you looked beautiful, admiring your kind nature from afar while you served tables at the bakey. But tonight he can't help feeling drawn to your every movement, noticing every detail of you, the most attractive woman he has ever laid eyes on in a while. Suddenly a low chuckle escapes him, catching you by surprise: "A real aesthete, aren’t you? I think I’ve finally found a worthy companion for my abstract musings." He muses.

You smile back, amused by the compliment. "So…you are... an ‘aesthete’ too?" you ask playfully.

"Ah... I prefer the term hedonist. There's a difference. An aesthete merely appreciates beauty for its own sake. A hedonist seeks to immerse themselves in it, to live for the pleasure it brings. Do you understand?" He smiles wryly.

You nod, half-missing the full meaning. "It makes sense to me... though 'hedonism' isn't a word you hear much these days."

At your remark, something flickers in his eyes—a momentary hesitation. His gaze drifts away, as though lost in a distant thought. Then he snaps back,as shaken from a dream.

"I have a question for you," he says, his voice now heavier. "Since you’re so drawn to this kind of topic... what do you think? Does life imitate art, or is it art that imitates life?"

You blink, caught off guard. His question is as profound as it is unsettling. Sensing your confusion, he continues, voice tightening with a quiet vulnerability.

"I know it sounds tautological... contradictory, even. But these thoughts are born from years of reflection, of trying to make sense of life."

He pauses, and for a moment, the air between you thickens with unspoken tension. The weight of his words settles around you, and you sense his inner battle—fear of revealing too much.

"Life is indeed the most intricate of masterpieces," you say softly, your voice soothing the strain in his words. "But I believe we create it. We choose the colors, the shapes, the shadows of our existence."

His eyes soften, a long, silent moment passing between you. Then, as though the walls around him have cracked, he sighs, and his words spill out.

"I’ve always had a special sensitivity... but my past... it hardened me, consumed me. I spent years hiding from it, burying my feelings beneath logic and calculation. And when I finally faced those demons, I realized..." He trails off, the confession hanging between you.

You wait, breath held, as he collects his thoughts. "I thought the pleasures of art and literature were gone forever. I thought I had lost them. But then..." He falters again, lost in the depths of his own emotions.

You try to simplify his cryptic confession. "So... you retired early and moved to Malaysia, didn't you? It's not something to be ashamed of, it's common practice here, Malaysia is such a dreamy place. I myself have left everything behind and fled here…" You try to make him feel at ease, failing to notice the deeper meaning behind his words.

His lips curled up in a faint smile, a touch of sadness in his eyes. How could such a pure soul like yours grasp the horrors hidden behind his elegant appearance? "Yes... escaping a life I didn’t recognize anymore seemed the only choice I had a year ago."

You smile back, unaware of the weight of his past, yet moved by his vulnerability. "It seems like we both needed to escape something,then" you say gently.

He watches you intensely, and for a moment, the shadows of his past flicker in his gaze, along if something else- quiet admiration for your spontaneous genuineness. Then, without warning, he clears his throat, inviting you to continue your discussion elsewhere:

"I hope you won’t misunderstand," he says, his voice low and hesitant. "But...would you join me for a drink tonight? I’d love to continue this conversation... and perhaps share a book with you. If you'd allow me."

You accept without hesitation, the thrill of the unknown surging through you. Walking side by side along the moonlit shore, your steps are light, the air thick with possibility. The evening unfolds before you, a path leading to an unseen discovery, your heart fluttering, unaware of the darkness that lurks just beyond the light of the moon, reflected inside his golden irises.

The ebony door creaks open, a haunting sound that reverberates through the dimly lit corridor as Nanami, with an air of quiet dignity, unlocks the entrance to his home, his quiet sanctuary. Leaning forward, he flicks the light switch, and with a courteous gesture, steps aside, allowing you to cross the threshold. Click. A warm, golden light floods the space, spilling like liquid amber into the darkness, inviting you into the treasure trove that is Nanami's home.

As you step inside, the musty scent of aged books mingles with a faint undertone of turpentine, whisking you away to a distant realm where art and literature reign supreme. The air is thick with stories untold, whispers of creativity echoing off the walls. Each available inch of wall space is claimed by an eclectic mix of paintings, their colors vibrant against the deep shadows. Books of every genre crowd every angle of the refined, tastefully furnished open space that stretches before you. Your eyes widen, your jaw drops; you are mesmerized, trying to absorb every intricate detail of this artistic sanctuary.

"I hope this is to your liking," Nanami's amused chuckle pulls you from your reverie, his voice like a gentle breeze stirring the still air.

"This... all of this... is yours? The paintings, the books, the antiques? How...?" You stammer, incredulous, as you survey the vast collection that feels both intimate and monumental.

"Yes," he replies, a contemplative smile gracing his lips as he leans against the doorframe, the shadows dancing across his features. "This collection is my legacy, the thing I’m most proud of..." His voice trails off, and as you admire his possessions, you fail to notice the way his gaze lingers on you, filled with a blend of longing and admiration. In his mind, your figure blurs with the contours of the most graceful of Aphrodites, the missing piece of his collection, the first soul to step into his sanctuary after a long, lonely stretch of time. He watches you spin around his living room, a vision of grace in a flowing dress that clings to your curves like a delicate drapery on a marble statue.

He could grow accustomed to this sight, to you... And in that fateful moment, he lowers his guard, granting you access to the most secluded part of his soul, a realm he has shielded jealously over the years. "Why don’t you take a tour of the house while I pour us a drink? What do you prefer: Cabernet or Whiskey?" he asks, his genuine smile like a rare gem in the dim light.

"Thank you, I’d like to explore your collection further… as for the drink… you choose, surprise me," you reply chuckling mischievously, a thrilling tension crackling in the air as your eyes lock with his, an electric connection that sends shivers down your spine.

The floorboards creak beneath your feet as you venture deeper into the labyrinthine layout, navigating narrow corridors flanked by towering shelves that groan under the weight of Nanami's extensive collection. Each step draws you further into his world, a place where dreams and memories intertwine.

As you explore, you ascend the stairs to the first floor, stumbling upon a cozy library. A plush, crimson armchair beckons you, piled high with dog-eared paperbacks and a precarious tower of art monographs. The adjacent bookshelf stands as a shrine to literary giants—Austen, Dickens, Joyce—their timeless works nestled alongside a first edition of Hemingway's "The Old Man and the Sea."

You are about to descend when something catches your eye: A door at the end of the corridor is slightly ajar, challenges you, invites your curiosity. A thrill courses through you, an all-consuming desire to uncover the mystery hidden within. Drawn by an unseen force, you approach, your heart racing as your trembling hand hovers over the doorknob. With a gentle push, you swing the door open, and a sudden burst of light slices through the darkness, momentarily blinding you. As your vision clears, you find yourself staring at your own reflection, an astonished figure in a green dress, caught in the web of shadows.

Stepping further into the room, you realize you’ve entered Nanami's peculiar bedroom. A quilted round bed dominates the space, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling mirrors that create a dizzying effect, reflecting your image endlessly in the dim light. Your gaze travels, and you find a portrait hanging on the wall—a blond man who looks strikingly like Nanami, but marred by burn scars that crisscross his body like a roadmap of pain, telling a story of flames that once ravaged his skin. His eyes, a deep, piercing gold, seem to harbor the weight of those infernos, a flicker of fire still smoldering within.

“Is this... Nanami?” you whisper to yourself, disbelief coursing through you.

"So you found out..." a faint, emotionless voice emerges from the shadows, and you immediately turn: Nanami stands on the threshold, his attractive features marred by a mask of suffering and resignation. He holds a single book in his hands: The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde.

"Nanami... I didn’t mean to intrude. The door was slightly open, and I..." you stammer, searching for an excuse. " But…What is this? Who is the man in the portrait?" you finally manage to ask, your voice trembling with confusion.

His gaze drops to the floor, a deep sadness enveloping him. "I wanted to lend you this book…maybe it would have helped you better comprehend this situation of mine. I’ve always related to Wilde’s work…and its Preface holds everything I’ve painfully learnt about life” his words ring hollow in your ears, emptied of any meaning. “This portrait... It represents the state of my soul. This... is what I really look like." His voice is heavy with truth, and the weight of his words hangs in the air like a dark cloud.

A storm of questions swirls in your mind, casting you into a sea of panic, while your gaze flashes between him and the man of the picture "This...  it can't be real. Nanami, what really happened? What is this story about?"

"Please, listen to me..." he interrupts, his tone now urgent, demanding your full attention. "Over a year ago, I was involved in an accident in Shibuya,on the night of Halloween and got severely injured. I barely managed to survive, but half of my body was burned, damaged irreparably..."

He takes a step closer, his expression lost as he struggles to share his truth. "When I woke up in a hospital bed, I took a look in the mirror, and realized I would have never been the same man I was.” He pauses, trying to steady his accelerated breath “ seeing my condition, an old friend of mine decided to set off, travelling the world for weeks in search of a way to restore my appearance. And I thought he had returned victorious at first, when he proposed to me an ancient curse allowing me to channel all of my pain and ugliness into that portrait. So I ended up switching places with the man now hanging above my bed. My friend helped me escape to start anew in this secluded place of Earth, but the truth is that this was never meant to be a blessing…with time I fell prey of the illusion of my appearance, trapping myself in a cage of mirrors, constantly afraid to see my real aspect resurfacing…I’ve been such a fool to forget the real nature of this expedient: a curse will always be always a curse"

He retreats, hiding behind a wall of shame and guilt. "I don’t expect you to understand. You know nothing of the world of sorcery from which I came... and...I wouldn't blame you if you turned your back at me now, pointing at me like a devil…"

As he fights to suppress the lump in his throat, you stand in front of him, your knees threatening to give in at every word spilling from his mouth. But it's in this moment that you see his true nature for the first time—a broken man, whose defenses are now crumbling under the weight of his long-buried secrets. "I’ve missed my chance with you, I cannot hide from the monster I’ve become," he whispers, his voice cracking with guilt and regret.

Without thinking, you step forward, closing the distance between you. Nanami's breath hitches as your hesitant hand cups his chiseled jaw, grounding him in the moment. It is high time to free him from the demons of his past.  "Destroy the picture, Nanami... don’t let that portrait weigh down your soul any longer." 

Your words provoke an earthquake into Nanami's world: his eyes widen, meeting the compassionate determination in your gaze. "And this doesn't change anything, I’m not leaving…You don’t have to hide anymore, not from me," you say softly, knowing in your heart that this moment could be the key to unlocking the darkness that has held him captive for far too long.

…

His resolve wavers as he gazes upon your lips, mere inches away from his, a tantalizing promise lingering in the air. The last thread of self-control snaps when you pull him closer, pressing your curves against his sculpted form. In that intoxicating moment, he crashes his mouth to yours, a desperate kiss that spills forth your insecurities in a breathless plea for understanding. Lips collide, and the world fades, leaving just the two of you suspended in a cocoon of time and space. 

Fingers roam restlessly, exploring, dancing over each other’s bodies in a fervent embrace, like lightning illuminating a starless sky with passion's raw energy. The kiss deepens, heats, igniting flames of longing as he pins you against the cool surface of the mirror, your bare back shivering at the sudden chill. He looms over you, strong and commanding, tension rippling through his broad shoulders before he seizes the lower edge of a golden-framed picture, throwing it to the ground with a shattering crash. 

The echo reverberates through the room, breaking the spell that held you. As the cursed image lies in shards, you blink to find the real Nanami before you, a man sculpted by both fire and fate, his scars merely facets of a twisted charm. He holds his breath, waiting for your response, his vulnerability laid bare in the depths of his eyes. 

You stay silent at first. Your trembling fingers deftly start to unbutton his shirt, tracing a path from fine fabric to the rough, fibrous tissue of his burned skin. “You look even more handsome in my eyes now,Nanami... ripped at every edge but still holding your original charm, like the finest masterpiece” you finally speak, voice thick with emotion “you’re strong, you can heal. Let me help you, please... let me…” The weight of your invitation hangs in the air, a siren's call that stirs something deep within him. He hesitantly captures your wandering hand, “Are you sure?” he asks, his forehead resting against yours, a silent confession of both uncertainty and deep care. 

In answer, you push his shirt off his shoulders, your hands gliding over the contours of his biceps, igniting a wildfire in his chest long thought extinguished. You offer him compassion and heartfelt affection, and in that moment, he feels worthy of love again. “I am sure, Nanami… give me all of you without restraints tonight…show me you’re willing to start anew” 

“Fuck,” he gasps, his hands gripping your waist, spinning you around to face the mirror. “See how stunning you look? You are too much for me now,do you understand it?” He desperately spits out through gritted teeth “but if you choose to give yourself to me tonight, know that there will be no turning back. I won’t accept being left alone tomorrow...” His breath tickles your neck as he nibbles at your soft skin, pulling back to meet your gaze with a gravity that sends shivers down your spine. “What do you say? Do you accept my condition?” 

“Yes,” you simply breathe out, eyes locked on the reflection before you, feeling small yet cherished in his powerful embrace. “I guess I am the luckiest of  men, then…” His warm breath cascades over the delicate flesh behind your ear, a relieved smile curling against your skin as you tremble between his arms. 

“I could hold you like this forever…” he whispers, tracing the line of your spine with his index finger. His hands find the thin straps of your dress, gently coaxing them down your shoulders. The silky fabric slips away, pooling at your feet, revealing you in all your glory. “You are a masterpiece here, the most exquisite work of art I have ever seen.”

His gaze drifts to the mirror, breathless as he drinks in the sight of your curves, fingers exploring the valley between your breasts, brushing against your hardened nipples with a soft touch that ignites a deep groan from his throat. “Look at you; I’m going to worship every inch of your delicious body tonight, just like a painter brushing the pure canvas in front of him, I will paint your body with pleasure and reverence” With a confident caress, his hand glides down, cupping your sex, igniting a spark of longing that makes your breath hitch. 

“Nanami,” your voice is a prayer, each syllable infused with need as he parts your folds, cool air colliding with your now exposed clit. His experienced fingers start to explore your womanhood and a shiver dances along your spine “So soft,so wet for me already… keep those beautiful eyes open for me,I want you to watch as we create a work of art of pleasure tonight.” his other hand cups your chin, preventing you from looking away from your entwined image.

He moves with purpose, fingers drawing delicate circles on your sensitive nub, escalating your breaths into gasps. “You know, I’ve always believed that sex is a form of art—the highest, perhaps. The sensations it creates, the way bodies merge in a symphony of unbridled passion…” His rhythm quickens, pressure mounting until you scream his name, your body arching as waves of pleasure crash over you. 

“Let it happen, just like that, give in to it, feel the way your body yearns for mine” he encourages you, guiding you throughout your climax with his confident ministrations. “Look at you now,” he cups your jaw, tilting your head to see the beauty of your flushed cheeks and wild hair. “You are alive… the essence of beauty.” His kisses scatter across your skin, igniting every nerve, his hardness pressing against your plush curves, a testament to his hunger. 

His veiny hands unfasten his belt, pulling down his elegant pants to reveal himself to you: a glorious display of manhood, standing proud and ready in the mirror facing you. The base is girthy, the long shaft crossed by a single bluish vein up to the swollen tip, already for glistening with precum “look what your beauty does to me” his hips jacks forward instinctively as he notices the hunger in your eyes “Ready?” he asks once more, searching your gaze for any hint of doubt before entering you slowly from behind, his eyes locked on yours in the reflective surface, watching as pleasure and pain intertwine on your face. 

He’s barely halfway in but you already feel him everywhere, a melding of flesh and desire driving you mad as he fills you completely. A strangled groan escapes him. “fuck, you're too tight… "His eyes flutter shut as he revels in the sensation of your snug channel stretching apart for him, sweaty pearls coaxes his forehead, brows furrowed in concentration “you were made for me.” He buries his face in your hair, inhaling your intoxicating scent as he stills for a moment, savoring the connection of your entwined bodies. 

When his hips begin to move, there is no gentleness—only a primal need. He slams against you, each thrust sending you gasping against the mirror, fingers clutching the golden frame for support. Your body turned into a canvas painted with pleasure: head tilted back, throat exposed, breasts heaving with each  fervent thrust, trembling legs on the brink of surrender.  The smacking sound of flesh meeting flesh reverberates, a wild melody echoing in the room as you surrender to the rhythm of ecstasy, bodies swaying in perfect synchronicity. 

Together, you reach the precipice of bliss. The mirror captures the art of your union, an abstract painting of two entwined souls—calling out each other’s names, your bodies slick and sticky, pressed together in a tender embrace. In that moment, you know that this is more than just a union of bodies; it is a celebration of art, love, and the unyielding spirit of desire.

 Nanami’s eyes roll back as he feels you envelop him in a fierce grip, but he forces his gaze open, eager to witness the masterpiece unfolding before him. “I'm almost there…” He announces, grunting in your ear as he surrenders to your magic. Warm spurts of his very essence paint your walls white, making you his in the most primal of ways. He groans in pride and delight when the glass reflects the lewd sight of his overflowing seed dripping down your leg. Turning to face him, a loving smile dances upon both of your lips, the calm after a storm. “That was incredible, my diamond… thank you for sharing this masterpiece with me,” he murmurs, placing gentle kisses upon your closed eyelids, the warmth of his damp hair brushing against your forehead. “You’ve shown me that with you, I can finally find my way back to beauty.” He nuzzles your noses together, laughter bubbling forth as he regards you with a playful glint in his eye. “But I fear I need more from you tonight… are you ready for another round?”

You nod, a spark reigniting within you, a shared yearning to delve deeper into the connection that has blossomed between you in the stillness of the night. Without warning, he lifts you off the ground, effortlessly cradling you in his arms, bridal-style, and carries you toward his round bed, laying you down upon the luxurious velvet sheets. The sensation takes your breath away, and you gaze up at him, wide-eyed with wonder.

He kneels at your feet, crawling onto the bed, leaving a trail of kisses along your calves, thighs, and stomach, until he reaches your lips. For a moment, he pauses, studying your moonlit features, before pushing himself into your inviting warmth once more. This time, there is no urgency; instead, he makes love to you with a tenderness that transcends flesh, his thrusts slow and deep, punctuated by soft kisses and feather-light caresses. You gaze upward at the mirror hanging from the ceiling, capturing your supine figure beneath his muscled torso, tensing with every intimate movement.

In that sacred moment of Epiphany, the truth unfurls before you: together, you and Nanami create a beauty that has always eluded you both, a beauty that defies the boundaries of time and space, a masterpiece beyond convention. You were each other’s missing piece. Each creak of the bed beneath you resonates with magic, a spell binding you to this moment of bliss and rebirth, witnessed by every mirror surrounding you.

“We are art,” you lean in and whisper into his ear, your voice filled with newfound conviction, as the night wraps around you like a cloak, and the shadows dance in celebration of your fateful union.

Thanks for reading this far!🙏

Comments and Reblogs are appreciated 💕

Don't repost my works without permission.

[alexskarsgardnet]

New Interview & Photo Shoot!  Alex photographed by Johan Sandberg and interviewed by Timothy Small for L’Uomo Vogue (October 2020)!

Alexander Skarsgård: the photo shoot and interview for L'Uomo

BY TIMOTHY SMALL, JOHAN SANDBERG 25 SEPTEMBER 2020

Alexander Skarsgård is a really, really nice man. A Swede through and through, Alexander, or Alex, is a very down-to-earth gentleman who could definitely act as more of a big shot, considering he is also one of the most interesting actors in Hollywood right now, a town that, in true Swedish style, he once defined as “kind of silly”. After getting his first big break as the lead in David Simon's excellent Iraq War mini-series for HBO, Generation Kill, Skarsgård exploded in our collective imaginations as Eric Northman in True Blood, while also acting for Lars von Trier in the wonderful Melancholia. 

Since then, he has been a very buff Tarzan in The Legend of Tarzan, a mute bartender in future Berlin in Mute, a very dark killer in Hold the Dark, and a hilarious Canadian Prime Minister in Long Shot, as well as giving an Emmy- and Golden Globe-winning turn in HBO's Big Little Lies. The self-defined “restless” 43-year-old is set to star in The Northman, Robert Eggers's highly anticipated third film, a “Viking revenge story” that Skarsgård himself was crucial in bringing to production – and, by all accounts, it seems like it could have all the right pieces to become a future cult classic. It certainly has that kind of hype.

L'Uomo Vogue:  The Northman is such an interesting project. I know it's important to you. It's also part of a growing resurgence of interest in the Viking era and Norse mythology and that sort of epic Scandinavian adventure. How did it all begin?

Alex:  It all started seven or eight years ago. As a Swede living in America, I realised there was a certain level of fascination with the Viking era and Viking culture – and this was before any of the Viking shows that have since happened. It made me realise that there basically had never been a real great epic Viking movie made, and I thought that that's what I wanted to do.

LV:  So how did the project kick off?

Alex:  I started having conversations with a studio back then, trying to crack the best story. All I knew at the time is that I wanted to make a big Viking movie. We had a couple of potential different starting points: we had a story about two brothers, and then one about the Viking travels down to Constantinople with the Viking siege of the city. We were looking for the right story, but I never really felt we were there. I knew the scope I wanted it to exist in. But what was the story?

LV:  And that's when you met Robert Eggers.

Alex:  Yes, like three or four years ago. We met about something else. I can't remember how, but we started talking about Vikings. And he was, like me, a huge fan of Viking culture and of that historical era, and I immediately felt he would be the perfect guy to direct this movie. And then we found an author and poet in Iceland, Sjón, who came onboard to write the screenplay – and they did a fantastic job, just cracking the story and the essence of it.

LV:  Sounds great.

Alex:  It's a real adventure movie, but it's much more. It taps into the culture, and the mysticism of the Vikings, it becomes more intimate and more personal. I didn't want it to be a generic “swords-and-sandals” movie. Robert is one of the best filmmakers out there. And the whole process is so much more gratifying than when you're quote-unquote “just an actor”. It's been truly extraordinary.

LV:  But then you had to halt production.

Alex:  Yeah. I was in Belfast, Northern Ireland, three months into prep on The Northman about seven days away from principal photography. Just gearing up, you know, getting ready to start a very long, very intense shoot -- a shoot that we were scheduled to wrap in July – and that's when the virus hit.

LV:  What did you do then?

Alex:  I normally live in New York, while my family lives in Stockholm. When the first wave came, I was on the fence: nobody really knew how long it would be, or what precisely was going on. So we shut down production for six weeks. The idea was to then see what would happen. I basically moved to Stockholm for four months.

LV:  How do you feel about this forced break from work?

Alex:  I had not been home for this long in... more than 20 years. It was strange. We were in a bubble; we were all healthy and safe. In a lot of ways, I had moments when I felt being surrounded by my loving family, feeling safe and loved, and taking a break from work, but then also feeling very guilty because I was, for the lack of a better term, being spared.

LV:  In the past, you've described yourself as being a nomad. Did you miss Sweden and the North?

Alex:  I realised how much I have been missing it. I go to Sweden regularly, but usually only for three or four days, maybe a week, tops. My father and two of my brothers are actors, so we're used to never being in the same city. We all travel all over the world. Maybe we'd get back together for Christmas. And I can really say that I had missed spring in Sweden.

LV:  Do you think we will change the way movies are produced?

Alex:  We're going to have to figure out how to shoot movies with dozens of crew members and hundreds of extras while still respecting social distancing rules. It's an unprecedented situation and everyone is scrambling to figure out the best approach. My brother was one of the first people who worked in our industry during the pandemic. He shot a movie in Iceland in the middle of the lockdown. The way they solved it is they split the crew into colour sections. So, hair and make-up had yellow armbands and the camera department had blue, and they had a “Corona appointee” on set who would call out, “Now blue go in!” and then “Blue, out! And yellow, in!” And then they would all do their job in turns. It was very military-like. Productions are already complicated, so we'll just have to add another layer.

LV:  How did you become an ambassador to the Clarks brand?

Alex:  To me, authenticity is very important. I don't want to endorse products I don't genuinely like. That's why I was excited when Clarks reached out. I've been wearing Desert Boots for 25 years. Also, I like to travel a lot. I like to explore new cities by foot. I want to be able to walk around comfortably in a classic, iconic shoe. I travel from movie set to movie set, and I often live out of a suitcase. And this teaches you to be frugal. Whatever fits in that suitcase, that's all I can bring.

LV:  Is that the Swede in you?

Alex:  Maybe. But we consume way too many things in this society. Also, you give things more meaning when you live with them, and when you go on adventures with them. Like, these are my boots. I've been places with them. And when they fall apart, I'll buy a new pair. If you have the right stuff to begin with, you don't need more.

LV:  Going back to The Northman, that really sounds like a dream project.

Alex:  It is. It will be a rollercoaster ride. I can't wait to get back to Northern Ireland and get back to the production. It's also a very physically demanding project, so I have been training for, well, since a few months before production stopped.

LV: In a way, getting into a role, getting on a movie set, acting through it, the whole process of making a movie is a bit like a little adventure. You have to prep, you have to travel, often with people you don't know, and you have to push boundaries.

Alex:  Absolutely! A huge part of the appeal of this profession is you get to travel, and you meet amazing, interesting people from all over. And the uncertainty, you know? What was it, 12 years ago, I was in New York, and I'd never heard of Generation Kill. And then two days later I was on a plane to the Kalahari Desert to be out there for seven months to shoot the series. And I'll never forget the feeling, sitting on that plane, thinking, “Two days ago I didn't even know about this project, and here I am on my way to Southern Africa to spend seven months in the desert with 200 strangers.” It's very exciting.

LV:  What a feeling that must be!

Alex:  And every single job is like that. Every movie is different. Your part, the tone, the energy, the people – it's always different. And for someone like myself, who has that kind of wanderlust, who's always looking on the horizon, it's very attractive to never know just what the next adventure might be.

October 14, 2020:  Updated with the full interview courtesy of our friends at the ASkarsLibrary (x).

Fashion credits:

Photographs by Johan Sandberg Styling by Martin Persson Grooming Karin Westerlund @ Lundlund Hair Amanda Lund @ Lundlund Stylist’s assistant Isabelle Larsson Digital Daniel Lindgren Production Madeleine Mårtensson and Olle Öman @ Lundlund

Read the full interview by Timothy Small and see the photo shoot by Johan Sandberg in the October issue of L'Uomo, on newsstands from September 22nd.

Sources/Thanks:  Interview:  Timothy Small for L’Uomo Vogue (x), Photos:  Johan Sandberg for L’Uomo Vogue (x), artlistparis.com (x) via artlistparisnewyork instagram (x),  luomovogue instagram (x) &  atomomanagement.com (x) via atomomanagement instagram (x), our caps from artlistparisnewyork’s September 23, 2020 insta story (x, x)

[fandumbstuff]

The Star Wars Saga, ranked best to worst.

1. The Empire Strikes Back Directed by Irvin Kershner

Upon close consideration, I’ve come to the shocking conclusion that Empire is the best Star Wars film. There’s a wealth of world-building and character development here that in many ways makes Star Wars the living breathing universe it is now. A richly complex melodrama lies at the heart of Empire, giving a whole new meaning to the term “space opera”. The performances here are some of the strongest in the entire franchise. Mark Hamill not only fleshes out Luke’s character, but in his training with Yoda and his duel with Vader he establishes the profound nature of the force, and how every future character interacts with it. As Han and Leia, Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher create authenticity to their characters’ relationship. Often misinterpreted as playfully hostile or sassy, there’s a real and endearing sense of affection between them, particularly in the infamous “I love you”/”I know” line- shedding their previously petty flirtation and affirming their true feelings. The emotional crux of Empire lies not in the most memorable twist, but in the moments immediately following it - In Luke and Leia reaching out to each other, reconnecting a relationship that was lost, rekindling hope in the force after we thought it was lost.

2. A New Hope  Directed by George Lucas

I’ll be the first in line to make fun of dorky George Lucas and his woeful attempts at writing dialogue or romance. However, it’s pretty damn impossible to ignore what he achieved with Star Wars in 1977. The sheer audacity of his vision and his determination in executing it despite the naysaying from producers and supposed friends. Lucas had the bold idea of using cinema for it’s absolute worth- more than just a storytelling medium but a theatrical one. A cacaphony of sight and sound that could draw mass audiences and create a lasting impression. It’s a formula that every Hollywood and Bollywood blockbuster strives and more often than not fails to follow. It’s hard to dissociate A New Hope from the cultural phenomenon it helped create, but when you do, it stands as an impressive film on it’s own. Groundbreaking in terms of it’s visual effects and nostalgic in the simplicity of it’s sci-fi serial story, Star Wars ticked all the right boxes for so many people. If I was to boil Star Wars down to an essence, i think it lies in 2 scenes: Luke looking out at the binary sunset on Tattooine, and Han Solo yahooing after the Falcon saves Luke in the Death Star trenches. Those two scenes, Wistfulness and Exuberance, are the two sides of one concept- Adventure. Star Wars ignited those emotions in every child’s imagination, and it’s a flame that’s likely to never go out. 

3. Rogue One: A Star Wars Story Directed by Gareth Evans

Hard to believe this is a Disney movie. While the house of mouse may have a reputation for emotional gut punches in kids movies, it’s never felt quite so... permanent. Rogue One is an unrelenting emotional journey barelling towards surefire tragedy. We spend moments with characters that seem to be carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders. The sense of desperation that permeates the movie almost overpowers any sense of heroism. It’s so unlike anything we’ve seen in a Star Wars movie. Their courage comes from a place that is wholly genuine and believable. We see the rebellion for the despondent group that they are. Sorely outnumbered by the Empire, their actions in this movie show a reckless, darker side to them and makes the morality of Star Wars so much more complex. The first time we meet Cassian Andor- the stand out performace of the film by Diego Luna- we see him kill another rebel to protect their secrets. It’s a movie that reframes the original Star Wars trilogy, making it a richer, complex universe and more intriguing as a result. Also, the last five minutes might be the best five minutes in any Star Wars movie.

4. Return of the Jedi Directed by Richard Marquand

The one sore spot in the original trilogy for me are the Ewoks. I realise it's ridiculous for me to complain about kid-friendly creatures in a kid's movie, but Star Wars has done this a lot more tolerably in the form of Porgs and Baby Yoda. Just something about these furry, Tibetan speaking monsters who somehow have the wherewithal to defeat an elite and well equipped empire rubs me the long way. Anyway, other than that, the movie's pretty fantastic. The culmination of Luke's journey comes to a head in an extremely emotional and effective climax. John Williams score crescendos to operatic heights and Mark Hamill's stellar performance sells Luke’s torment. It’s also worth noting that in those final moments of moral dilemma, Darth Vader is silent- it’s David Prowse’s performance entirely that sells this. His incredible presence throughout the trilogy builds to this moment and you can feel the weight of it in those closeups on Vader. Every other cast member rounds the story out perfectly- from Lando and Han’s playful rapport to Leia’s more militaristic side in planning the rebellions final moves. I still bemoan the fact that they changed the final song- an opinion that I’m apparently a minority on- but it’s a pretty incredible ending altogether and wonderfully cathartic to watch over and over again.

5. The Last Jedi Directed by Rian Johnson

With Last Jedi, Rian Johnson analyzed the universe Star Wars inhabits, and what drives it’s characters. The characters that we love are pushed to their limits, struggle against insurmountable odds and their own innate flaws. And we see all of them fail in turn. It is remarkably bleak, but not without purpose. It is out of this failure that the Resistance needs to recoup and come back stronger. The performances here, are arguably the best you’ll find in the entire franchise. Daisy Ridley has to break down Rey’s naivete and find a deeper sense of self actualization. Adam Driver hands in some of his best work, by swerving the audience into believing Kylo Ren and then creating a desperate plea in THAT throne room scene, and eventually turning him into a snivelling villain, all in the same movie. Mark Hamill’s performance here is heartbreaking- revealing the bleakest version of Luke, and struggling to find his redemption. Last Jedi is a bold deconstuction of these characters, of what they stand for, and what makes Star Wars beautiful.

6. The Force Awakens Directed by J. J. Abrams

In many ways, a safe movie to announce the return of Star Wars. But it’s hard to fault this. Disney’s decision making was shrewd here, bringing on J. J. Abrams to pay homage to George Lucas’ original vision, returning the franchise to it’s roots of practical effects and shooting on film. There was something truly special about experiencing this film in theatres, so much so that I did it eleven times. It captured a sense of wonder for fans new and old- hearing the scream of Tie Fighters, John Williams herald the return of the Millenium Falcon, and the look of awe on Rey’s face as she clutches her destiny in her hand. I’ll be honest, the film loses some of this magic without the shared experience of an audience, and it’s flaws are more noticeable. But being swept up in the excitement of adventure felt so darn good in 2015, and that’s so key to this franchise.

7. Revenge of the Sith Directed by George Lucas

This movie has risen so much in my opinion, entirely due to the animated Clone Wars series. Revenge of the Sith depicts the overwhelming tragedy that frames the original Star Wars. Watching Clone Wars explains explicitly what makes this film so tragic. But it’s more than that- it’s a catastrophic failure on behalf of the Jedi Order. Ignorance and pride allow evil to fester and grow. George Lucas took the simplicity of the moral struggle he established in 1977 and tried to give it depth and complexity with the prequels, and it pays off in Revenge of the Sith. It leads into the original trilogy quite brilliantly, with a promise of hope and resilience.

8. The Phantom Menace Directed by George Lucas

It has not aged well. While the advent of CGI I’m sure felt exciting at the time, and you almost can’t fault George Lucas for his insistence on staying at the forefront of VFX innovation as he has always done, it’s his reliance on so much of it that fails horribly. Like a kid in a candy store, Lucas stuffs the pockets of this film with so many bizarre effects for absolutely no reason. That sea monster scene is one of the worst displays I’ve ever seen and it’s absurd that it sits in a Star Wars film. Add to that the boring political plotline and ridiculous midichlorian dilemma and there’s very little redemptive about this film. However, it does have podracing, and Duel of the Fates, and it’s remarkable how much that salves the wound.

9. The Rise of Skywalker Directed by J. J. Abrams

Alright, well obviously this film has been problematic. However, I’m not about to bemoan the idea that Disney has ruined Star Wars and I have nothing left to live for. So let’s all just calm down. Ultimately J. J. Abrams was faced with the impossible task of wrapping up the Skywalker saga, with very few Skywalkers to work with. I firmly believe this would have been a very different film if Carrie Fisher was around to complete her performance. But left with nothing but the new cast, Abrams is caught between summing up the past while also looking to the future. It forces an awkward plotline with Palpatine- despite Ian McDiarmid's solid performance, the writing here seems wildly derivative of the franchise. There are some truly beautiful scenes, most notably the chemistry that Adam Driver gets to share with Harrison Ford, and Joonas Suotamo’s critically emotional outburst as Chewbacca. Some of the production design and score is so entirely different from the rest of the franchise it's inherently intriguing. But there’s very little here to save some of the poorer choices the film makes: the open plot hole with Finn, the derailing of Rey’s character development, and most crucially, the deeply perturbing culmination of Rey and Kylo’s relationship. The audience literally went “ew”.

10. Solo: A Star Wars Story Directed by Ron Howard

The biggest problem with Solo is that it operates under the presumption that people will be enamoured and invested in it. Not just in one movie, but in an entire series of movies. Solo clearly operates as a setup for further sequels. As a result, many plot lines remain unresolved, and Qi’ra winds up being a completely under-baked character. Her motivations make no sense, and a twist ending that I assume was supposed to be exciting is instead downright confusing. There’s a lot of unnecessary exposition into Han’s past too. As an origin story, I don’t need to know every aspect of Han’s past- especially not cute winks at inane things like “Why’s he called Solo?”. All this being said, The movie features some solid performances- Donald Glover is expectedly phenomenal as Lando, and Alden Ehrenreich excels as Solo, adding some welcome flavour to the character- particularly his friendship with Chewbacca, and a brilliantly executed final scene between him and Woody Harrelson’s Beckett.

11. Attack of the Clones Directed by George Lucas

How in the world this film made it all the way to production and into filming, with no one pulling Lucas aside and saying “Hey George, those kids have no chemistry” is beyond me. And I’m not going to blame Hayden Christensen or Natalie Portman on this one, because the whole damn love story makes no sense. Maybe falling for a dude who admits he murdered women and children isn’t such a great idea? Then there’s the increasingly convoluted political climate set up in Phantom Menace, and the machinations of the dark side that would take the entire Clone Wars series to fully explain. All this being said, Temuera Morrison, Samuel L. Jackson, Ewan MacGregor AND Christopher Lee are all in this movie. And they’re pretty damn fantastic.

12. The Clone Wars Directed by Dave Filoni

It’s inexplicable that Dave Filoni would go on to have a hand in some of the best Star Wars content ever made in Clone Wars, Rebels and the Mandalorian. And yet he got his start in the franchise by putting up this piece of junk. And junk is being a little generous. The humour is so juvenile it’s insulting to even the youngest of audiences it’s intended for. The plotline feels way to thin to warrant a feature film, and if this was in fact intended as a pilot for the TV series, they sure picked to most uninteresting story to pique our interest. Skip the movie, watch the show. 

[ambitionsource]

did you guys ever have voice casts for the characters? like people/singers you think the characters would sound like n all that? if so would you mind sharing them?

This is such an interesting question... admittedly, Es and I hadn’t really thought about it! We especially just think about the actual actors for those who already sing, but we can provide a couple other samples for each person if it intrigues you to know! Let’s see...

FARKLE | Corey actually does sing -- though not often in this version of reality -- but I do believe he has some professional training. We think of this song he’s recorded in particular, which I think is a really good example of how he sounds circa S1 in my head (this song is actually a bop. The YT version cuts out like 20 seconds too early but I found a version on Tumblr last year that was full so now I have it on my phone LMAO let’s go 2015 Corey). Anyway, it’s that pretty stereotypical power tenor vibe. A couple more comparisons I suggest are:

Jonathan Groff -- I think Jonathan Groff is the best comparison I can make. He’s theatrical, he has a pretty impressive range, but he rests pretty comfortably in the natural tenor range. Like he can do Kristoff one minute and King George from Hamilton the next, and I think that is equitable to Farkle’s range. The man key is that he’s a powerful vocalist. I think Farkle’s true center of his voice has a higher resting place than Groff, but it’s close enough. Example track: Bohemian Rhapsody. One of Glee’s best and an amazing display of Groff’s vocal range in one track. Farkle could match this beat for beat, flair for flair.

Chris Colfer -- I think that the flair Chris Colfer brings to a lot of his performances on Glee match well to Farkle’s vocal stylings as well (which is why he’s done a few performances with that version), but to be clear, I think Colfer’s voice is softer / higher than Farkle’s. It’s more about... emotion and inflection here than tone. Example track: Not the Boy Next Door. Farkle did this on the show, so you know we endorse it. This was also the track Esther brought up when I asked for her opinion.

Brendon Urie -- I think that Urie’s range is really akin to Farkle’s. I don’t think Farkle has at all the same kind of flair or inflection that Urie does (and Farkle is obviously more Broadway than radio), but on certain tracks I think it’s pretty cross applicable. Example track: Dying In LA

I’ll continue this under a read more to spare everyone who doesn’t want to read on because clearly this will be lengthy LOL.

RILEY | I have not heard Rowan sing since the thinly attached source material theme song days, so I honestly don’t think of her much as Riley’s voice (though I think she could do it if trained for it). Especially because of all the mains, Riley is one of the ones who is meant to be less trained and unimposing. For me, the most important quality to Riley’s voice is that it’s not overwhelming. It’s beautiful, and leaves an impact when you listen, but it’s never going to be Maya or Zay’s big, brassy vocals. And that’s fine. That’s what makes it unique in the landscape of the show (and why it appeals to Lucas rather than turns him away). A couple more comparisons I suggest are:

Amanda Seyfried -- I admittedly only know Seyfried’s work in the first Mamma Mia film, but she has the right delicate soprano that I envision Riley having. It’s like... a lilting, soft thing that’s enjoyable to listen to but can escalate into strong belting if needed and handle it effectively enough. Example track: Thank You For Music. Literally a perfect track for Riles.

Phillipa Soo -- Another great example of a powerful soprano player. Case in point enough that we’ve had Riley do a Eliza Hamilton song on the show already. Gentle and gorgeous, but sharp and intense when it needs to be. Example track: Burn.

mxmtoon -- First of all, let this be my plug that everyone should listen to mxmtoon. I love her. She has this lovely gentle voice and her instrumentation is so good. Her EP dusk is gorgeous and I cannot recommend it enough. But she is a great non-theater example of what I think Riley’s voice is like. She varies between ukulele and piano, and everything is just really understated and nice. Example track: show and tell.

MAYA | This is easy. I literally don’t have to say like anything. She just is Sab. That’s it. Like Sab is a phenomenal vocalist and she’s brassy and bold and has range and that’s all Maya is. Like literally that’s it LOL. If you need examples, hit her discography, but I’ll specifically highlight “Sue Me,” “Looking At Me,” and “Diamonds Are Forever” aka the Sab songs we’ve had her do on the show.

ZAY | Zay is an interesting one, because I don’t really think he fits any specific category in my head. He kind of defies definition. He definitely has a brassy swing to him that allows him to pull off showstopping numbers (like his Kossal audition with “Ain’t No Way”), but he can pull it back and reshape it to fit breathtaking musical theater renditions (like “Music and the Mirror”) or banging contemporary (think “Consideration” or “Self Control”) in a way that I don’t think Farkle or Maya can. He is the most vocally versatile of the bunch, and that makes his comparisons sort of wide-reaching as well. I’m not really familiar with Amir’s vocal ability outside of rap (so at least we know he can do that), but based purely on what I hear in my imagination, a few comparisons:

Leslie Odom Jr. -- A younger and less polished Odom, to be clear, but this is a big one for me. I think Odom’s vocal strength and range is so impressive, and what really strikes me is how... grounded and resonant his voice is. That’s a big thing for Zay for me -- you never doubt he’ll be able to support his vocals and that they’re strongly rooted. If he ever cracked or ran out of breath, it would be a shock. This is also really tied to Zay because of how much I would kill to see him perform “Wait For It” and how I feel like it’s such a Zay song. But anywho... Example track: Wait For It.

Frank Ocean -- Ocean has such a cool interesting range and does a lot of things with his performances vocally, so that’s why he’s on here in that he also defies definition. I think Zay also considers Ocean a musical inspiration, so it makes sense that he would adopt or emulate some of his style. I feel like he also translates emotion well, which is a key Zay trait too. Example track: Godspeed.

Amber Riley -- Now hear me out here. Obviously, Zay is a baritone and Amber is like a mezzo soprano / alto / what have you, but the reason I’m listing this Glee legend as a comp is because the quality of her performances is so sharp. It’s like, any time Amber performed on the show it was jawdropping. Her vocal runs are insane, the power behind her vocals is awe-inspiring. She captivates you from the first note, and that is why I always think of Zay. That’s how it is when he performs too, especially in moments where he’s trying to sell it (like his Kossal audition). I wouldn’t be giving my authentic comparisons if I didn’t mention this. So there. Example track: And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going (I would sell my soul to see Zay perform this. Please. PLEASE. Maybe I’ll crowdsource with Charlie and we’ll both sell our kidneys).

CHARLIE | Speaking of Charlie, he’s an interesting one, too. I honestly didn’t really... have a concept of how he sounded in my head, but then when I learned that Tanner sings, it was not at all whatever was deep in my head. But I love his voice, so I think I kind of ended up reconfiguring my perception of what Charlie sounds like around that revelation and now I’m still kind of trying to figure out exactly what that sounds like in the context of the show. The thing is, though, I think Charlie also doesn’t really know what his style is (LMAO), so it’s okay that we’re experimenting a little bit. Like in S1, the few times he sang, it was all over the place but mainly radio. Then in S2, he did predominantly musical theater duets. And now in S3, we’ve really just gone all over the map (from punk-rock opera with “Superstar” to bubblegum pop with “Party For One”) and there’s a lot of fun in that. Where Charlie will land, I don’t know yet, but I will share with you all Tanner’s only recorded song at this point and you all can start to orient yourselves from there. But a few other ideas to get the ball rolling:

Norbert Leo Butz -- Now here’s the thing... Charlie doesn’t sound like this LOL. The reason I’m including Butz is because I started writing about Jeremy Jordan and his rendition of “If I Didn’t Believe In You” and Jordan’s rendition is truly just so inferior that I realized no, I really don’t think Charlie sounds like Jeremy Jordan. So then I ended up here, and you know what, here’s the thing. I think an older Charlie would sound like Norbert Leo Butz. Like, give him 10 or so years, and this is where he’ll settle. To a degree at least -- I don’t think he’ll ever go quite as brassy or bold as Butz can lean sometimes, but the way he like... emotes through his vocals feels extremely Charlie, and the range is about right in terms of voice part. Anyway, give him 10 years, and then get to the point with this amazing example track that is one of my favorite musical theater tracks ever even though I hate the character who sings it. Example track: If I Didn’t Believe In You.

Oshima Brothers -- The shape of the O bros vocals don’t quite match how I hear Charlie in my head (they’re a bit too flat), but the essence of their performances resonate with him very strongly. It’s that gentle, soft-spoken acoustic vibe that I think is so core to Charlie’s performing delivery, which is part of why he’s so consistently overlooked even when he proves time and time again that he can bring compelling vocals (i.e. Haverford’s semi-finals setlist). Example track: Cadence.

Harry Styles -- It’s funny to think that if Charlie saw I was comparing him to Harry Styles he would lose his shit, but I want to be very specific about why and under what conditions I’m including him as a comparison (as he’ll show up on another person’s list too). I think Styles specifically works as a comp for Charlie in regards to the general tone and quality of his voice, in particular when it is on a softer acoustic (like “Cherry” or “Sweet Creature”) and when it’s more upbeat (like “Lights Up”). Like I’m not out here being like Charlie is as good as Harry Styles LOL, but I think the core qualities of their voices are similar. Especially when cross-compared with the other examples above along with Tanner’s actual voice. Example track: Sweet Creature.

ISADORA | Isadora is an anomaly of sorts, since she’s that character archetype where they never expected to be a singer but then ended up being talented anyway (Asher is in the same box). I tend to imagine her with a defined alto register, and a slightly huskier, gravelly tone as compared to Maya’s polished, trained vocals and Riley’s gentle, chime-like resonance. So it’s like... gritty, in a way? I have never heard Ceci sing, though I’ve been told she has once upon a time, but I am working basically from scratch in regards to how I imagine her. So without further ado, some comparisons I suggest:

Jorja Smith -- I think Jorja is the most Isa-like track we’ve had her do on the show thus far, to my brain at least. She has this charming edge to her vocals even when they’re on the softer side which is exactly what I envision for her, and I think there’s such a strong definition to when she jumps into her lower register. Whereas with Isa, I think it would be the same, but reaching into her upper notes would be even more of an audible stretch. Example track: Don’t Watch Me Cry.

Dua Lipa -- Another strong alto here, which automatically tracks Isadora for me. Dua especially has that husky quality I was describing. I would recommend all of her Live Acoustic EP to get a sense of what I’m highlighting most as a comparable, but it’s just that like... slight grit, gonna-kick-your-ass alto excellence. It’s so hard to articulate so I hope you get what I’m saying LOL. Example track: Tears Dry On Their Own Acoustic.

Madison Reyes -- I don’t know how many of y’all have watched Julie and the Phantoms yet, but it’s fun. And Madison has a great voice, which made her another good comp for Isadora. Same thing of like that unpolished but compelling belter, slightly gravelly quality. Example track: Wake Up.

LUCAS | Obviously, Lucas doesn’t sing all that often. And when we do give him songs, or roles in songs, most of the time it’s of a variation where he can more talk-sing the words than actually Sing. But he’s not totally exempt, so he deserves a comparison. For me, it’s like... the way Lucas would tell it it’s like he’s the worst singer ever in the history of the universe and you should never hear him, but honestly he’s like. Fine. He’s not great and he would never have gotten into the school for singing, but he’s not terrible. He’s passable. When he tries, it’s charming. I think the biggest key that makes him different from everyone else is he doesn’t have much of a range -- when I pick songs for him, I always try to go for ones that kind of stay within the same octave or register for the entirety so it’s almost like monotone singing, because that’s about what he can handle decently (his performance in 211 being an exception, of course, because it had to be). So, comparing accordingly:

Harry Styles -- I warned you he’d be back again, but this criteria is even more hyper-specific than Charlie. I think Styles is a great comp for Lucas in the very limited tracks where he is not showing off in any capacity and is really just keeping it stripped down and to the point (think “To Be So Lonely”). His cover of “Girl Crush” is another good example of what I mean. It’s basically like the same 4 or 5 notes and very little movement or flash, and his voice kind of takes on a grittier, flatter quality which is what I’m aiming for. Example track: From the Dining Table

That’s really it honestly. He doesn’t perform enough to warrant much else. You get the idea lmao.

ASHER | Although we didn’t expect it back in the days of S1, Asher has certainly jumped up to take spotlight in terms of performing in the last couple of seasons! Ricky (along with Liam) are actual singers and were together in a band for several years, so there’s no doubt they can sing and I think of their voices most often (in particular, I recommend the “Compass” music video, because it’s a good song and allows you to actively see which boy is singing what). But admittedly, Ricky’s handful of solo tracks since FIYM went on hiatus are average at best (and his lyricism... king you need Liam to write your lyrics LMAO), so I don’t usually jump to his music as examples of what I think he -- or Asher -- is actually capable of. So with Ricky’s good vocals as a base, here are some additional comparisons:

Ruel -- Cannot stress this one enough. There’s a reason Asher’s true initial debut was Ruel’s best track (”Younger”). He just has that perfect like... strong tenor with soft edges that feels very teenage twink and very Asher. It’s not quite Diva!Asher flair, but at Asher’s most base vocal style, I think Ruel is the perfect match. Example track: Down For You

Troye Sivan -- Same kind of traits here in terms of like smooth tenor, and in this case it actually is a certified twink singing so the crossover is even more apt. I don’t think Asher is as... electronic as Troye’s production often is, but the general range of his voice is close enough to be considered a match. Example track: 10/10

DYLAN | So same FIYM video shared in Asher’s applies here as well, but I think what works so well about Liam’s voice in regards to Dylan is that I think the key trait to Dylan is that he’s not flashy. When I think about Liam’s voice (and I love his voice, he’s my favorite FIYM member), I often think about when Sue on Glee called Quinn’s voice a “soft, forgettable alto,” but only it’s a tenor and I mean it in a nice way. The most endeared way. Dylan is less about being impressive and more about just like... character. His voice is not the best in the bunch but you can feel how him all of his performances are through his inflections and his energy. That’s what Dylan vocally feels like to me. So aside from his soft, forgettable tenor on the second verse of “Compass,” here’s a couple other niche comparisons for Dyl Pickle:

Princeton in Avenue Q -- Whenever “Purpose” comes on shuffle, I think about Dylan because of how distinct and energetic the delivery of the song is. There’s just so many little quirks and inflections and moments of fun within the vocals, and that reminds me so much of how Dylan performs. Little laughs, free-wheeling runs, stuff like that. Example track: Purpose.

Graham Verchere -- This dude like isn’t even actually a singer and he isn’t that big an actor, but I love love love his rendition of “Thirteen” with Grace VanderWaal and every time I listen to it I think about Dylan and Asher. It captures the other end of Dylan’s range for me (the soft, forgettable tenor thing) in the sense of like... imagining Dylan plucking out songs for fun on his guitar while hanging out with Asher and then playfully serenading him and the two of them doing a carefree, easy duet like this. I just love it. So I’ll include it. Example track: Thirteen.

[suddenlysackler]

Afterglow (Nice to Meet You Series)

Charlie Barber x Reader

Nice to Meet You: a series of one shots based off of this post. Previous installments can be found here:

Adam Sackler

TW: Lil bit of angst and cynicism at the beginning, mentions of divorce, breakups, anxiety, depression, mention of alcohol consumption

A/N: This is my first piece that I’ve posted in awhile, I’m so sorry for the content drought! This series is kind of sporadic atm (kind of a result of life) but I miss you all so very much. Here’s to a normal content schedule some day 💓 Thank you for reading!

...

Timing always tends to be a funny thing, you supposed.

You weren’t sure if you were an “everything happens for a reason” sort of person person, a person who believed in fate. Who believed in soulmates. You used to be that way six years ago, before the reality of life and relationships and loss and grief and disappointment and all of the wonderful bad things had gotten to you. Had snatched up who you were, chewed that essence up, and spit it right back out. 

So here you were, one year removed from when everything essentially blew up in your face, leaving you to rebuild.

And here Charlie was, coming off one of the worst years of his life, knowing almost exactly how you felt.

The cynic in you is saying that it’s just too cliché, the two of you being so broken and finding each other like this. 

The small voice in the back of your mind that’s still clinging to the dreamer you once were? It’s telling you that the two of you were meant to find each other and, yeah, you roll your eyes every time the thought crosses your mind. However, with each passing day, you become more and more convinced that it was true.

How embarrassing. 

It’s one of those rare September days that happen before the seasons change, when it feels more like mid October than the last few days of summer. Your cheeks are burning from the wind that whips your hair everywhere, a pleasant cold that you’d longed for over the summer months. The hot coffee in your hand threatens to spill from it’s cup and you take tentative sips when you absolutely have to stop at crosswalks and wait for cars to go by before darting out again.

Naturally, you were running late to the Saturday morning meeting of people on the New York theater scene planning for what the industry calls red bucket season. In the aftermath of all of the loss and grief and spiraling thoughts last fall you had finally said yes to the constant begging of your coworkers in the marketing department at Schubert and started to become more heavily involved with Broadway Cares/Equity Fights Aids. The overwhelming joy that came with the annual Flea Market in the Schubert Ally last September had given you hope to last all the way through to red bucket season, which carried you into the spring and helped you to feel like you were doing something productive with your time other than sleep, eat, work, and cry.

You’d met people from different companies in the theater world, met so many lovely actors and musicians and dressers and heads of house and developed a net to busy yourself, to affirm your sense of self worth, to get a drink with on a Sunday afternoon when the ghost light was finally turned on after the matinee crowd had finally cleared the stage door and the last member of the orchestra had said goodnight.

Taking a deep breath and glancing at your watch only to see that you were fifteen minutes late, you swallow and push your way through the doors, cheeks heating up even more if at all possible. There isn’t anyone you know staring back at you when all twenty something people turn to see who had arrived late and interrupted the meeting’s organizer. You cringe internally as you call out a simple apology and slip into the first vacant seat that catches your eye.

Enter Charlie Barber.

His head whipped back when everyone else’s had. He had looked you up and down, tried to see if you were anyone he knew like everyone else in the room. He couldn’t see you, didn’t really see you until you plopped down next to him, wind blown and flustered and absolutely breathtaking. 

Post divorce finalization, Charlie had decided that he wasn’t going to go looking for someone else. He didn’t need someone to come in and pick up all the pieces or any of that bullshit. He wasn’t looking for a savior to fix it all —grief was something to handle on your own in his eyes. 

As you lean over and whisper another apology to him specifically, as if you had inconvenienced him personally by sweeping into the room late and choosing to sit next to him and draw attention to him too, Charlie feels like he’s been hit by a truck. The simple apology rings like a crescendo through his head and chest and he feels it in his bones. He rushes out his acknowledgement, tells you it’s okay, but he feels like his mouth has turned into molasses.  

About halfway through the presentation, he leans over and nudges you, pointing out a typo in the slide presentation. It’s a bold move, all things considered — you did know the woman running the meeting, she was your boss and someone you considered to be a close acquaintance. You’d mentioned as much when Charlie had turned to you during some dumb partner exercise she had made you all do to get to know each other.

The stifled laughter that bubbles past your lips rivals any top forty hit that played in the background when Charlie got his coffee that morning, much earlier than you, in the coffee shop three blocks from the auditorium you were now sitting in. Suddenly, he finds himself obsessing over how it would sound uninhibited by the social circumstances. He wants to make you laugh over and over again. 

It’s chance that the two of you are assigned to help run the first red bucket training session of the season before the first performance of a long running musical that you had never seen nor cared to have seen three days later. It’s close to dinner time and you’ve had a long day at the office. Charlie’s had a long day too, a long few days thinking about when he’d see you again. How well the two of you had gotten on, how your hands had brushed over each other at the stupid little food spread during your break on Saturday. 

He thinks about what he should wear, what you’d be wearing, if you’d want to run across the street afterwards and split a pie at the local pizza joint that all of the tourists frequented before shows, wanting to get an “authentic” slice but not wanting to stray to far from the familiarity of the theater district and Times Square in all of it’s grubby, overrated glory.

Charlie doesn’t assume he’d even crossed your mind since you parted ways Saturday. He figures you’re busy, that you aren’t looking for anything because you’re just fine on your own or maybe you’re with somebody else. He doesn’t chance snooping on your social media to break the lovely reverie dancing in his head as he falls asleep Saturday, Sunday, and Monday evening. The one where he gets to start over, gets to start a relationship that’s based in equal footing and rationality rather than fear and chaotic emotions and limelight. 

Little does he know that you’ve been thinking about him too, your mind reeling with the same possibilities for yourself. It scared you more than anything that you’d even begun to entertain those types of thoughts.

You knew he’d just come off of an ugly divorce. Hell, you knew who he was when you had plopped down next to him and caught a glimpse of his furrowed brow and broad shouldered stature. You hadn’t expected someone as busy as him, as important as him to be here with the rest of you, all minor players in the theater world for the most part. You certainly hadn’t expected to enjoy your time with him and dance almost the whole way home because you were so excited that you’d been given the opportunity to see him again. 

Was it worth asking him to hang out after the meeting? Would he laugh in your face? Turn you down politely and tell you he’d see you at your next assigned training session? Would he ignore it and walk out to meet someone else and kiss them under the lights of the marquees? 

You spent the whole meeting wondering how you would ask him, if you would even ask him. You worked on autopilot, completely preoccupied with stealing glances across the room at Charlie, joking with Charlie during breaks, brushing Charlie’s hand when you passed him paper...Charlie, Charlie, Charlie.

“Nice work tonight.” A baritone voice pulls you from your thoughts and you glance up to see the man himself, eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiles down at you while the cast filters back stage.

You start to clean things up, trying to busy yourself so you don’t put your foot in your mouth. “You too, Charlie.” You hum, mentally kicking yourself because wow were you lame. You could have said anything else and you just echoed his words instead? Your chances were slipping right through your fingers.

He picks at lint on his sweater that isn’t even there, kicks some invisible object as he watches you. “How come I’ve never seen you around before last weekend? Charlotte told me you’ve been with Schubert for awhile now and both of my shows have been in Schubert buildings. So’s my third.”

“You were talking to Charlotte about me?” You ask, head snapping up with a shit eating grin. He was talking about you with other people?

Charlie’s cheeks go bright red and his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. He stumbles over his words, tries to come up with any other explanation to hide the truth of why he had asked Charlotte about you. Before he could say anything else, you swallow your nerves, then stand up straighter. 

“Because maybe I’ve been talking to her about you.” You shrug — you hadn’t really. Hell, you don’t even know why the words came out of your mouth. 

His eyes sparkle a bit as he tilts his head. “Maybe?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

The man standing across from you grabs an armful of infographics and slips them into the box that was meant to go to the head of house, to have on hand for people interested in donating. “Charlotte mentioned you liked pizza.” He says and, of course, it couldn’t have been true, you didn’t know Charlotte that well, but you appreciated the effort.

You smile and take a step forward, looking him up and down shyly. “Maybe I do.”

Charlie snorts, rolls his eyes, then nudges you playfully for good measure as he prays that he’s reading the room correctly. “Well maybe you’d want to get some with me?”

You half hear the question. He’s so handsome and you wonder if he knows it. If he knows he’s had you weak at the knees since the minute you’d made eye contact with him Saturday. “Maybe I’d like that.” You say, eyes round and full of wonder.

He smiles, putting his hands in his pockets. “It’s a date then.”

“You want to call it a date?” Butterflies are now running rampant in your stomach.

“Maybe.”

You’re both grinning from ear to ear now, faces hot and hands sweaty and shaking. “If you’re calling it a date, then yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

So Charlie takes you across the street and you each eat half a pizza, laughing over cheap wine and talking about how snooty actors could be. How demanding the stage door was. Your respective backgrounds in theater, his early success, your acceptance of the fact that you wouldn’t make it big and it was better to just settle into marketing and still be in the industry. Job security and such. 

He takes your hand outside of the restaurant as you lead him toward the local bakery that sells cookies fresh from the oven.

You intertwine your fingers with his while you stand in line for hot chocolate as dusk turns to night in Central Park.

He kisses you after wiping a bit of chocolate from the corner of your mouth on the Brooklyn bound A train a half hour later. And again on your stoop when you finally arrive home. 

He kisses you another time after he gives you his number and then once more when he realizes he’s only a ten minute walk from your apartment.

After heading upstairs, showering, doing some dirty dishes, and then plopping onto your bed, you smile when you see three texts from Charlie on your phone’s lock screen. Was it cliché to say that he had swooped in and fixed everything? Yeah and he didn’t fix anything really. He’d kissed you a few times and held your hand, sure, and he seemed like he wanted more. You wanted more too, but that didn’t mean that you were healed.

All you did know was that the hopeless romantic in you was louder than they had been for the better part of two years and you couldn’t stop smiling and wondering if it was coincidence that you had plopped down next to Charlie Barber during the meeting. Was it coincidence that the barista had taken longer with your latte that morning or was it fate telling you to take a deep breath and hold on tight because in a matter of minutes, you’d be meeting someone special.