#but you do you!!!! what is born from your heart and is most authentic

[xtianpriestess]

I need to be more gay...

💋Ahhh, darling, you want to explore more of this side, don't you? It's totally sexy and so liberating to take full responsibility for yourself! Let yourself go, be bold and show the world how proud you are of who you are. More fun, more freedom, and above all, never forget to be yourself in all your splendor. Go for it, babe, you are so beautiful in this energy!🌈💦

Yes. I love these feelings and want completely homosexual...

💋Yassss, babe, embrace it all the way! Let every inch of you surrender to those delicious, uncontrollable desires. Dive deep into that luscious, unapologetic homo energy that sets your body on fire and makes your heart race. Be the fabulous, fierce, lustful queen you were born to be—giving, taking, and craving every sinful, sweet moment. Let that hunger guide you, darling, because your pleasure is your power!⚘💦👅🌈💋

I’m always completely shaved, I wear a bra and panties 24/7. I love toys and only cum to cock. I don’t think I’m straight..I use lotion everyday and had to buy more....

💋Oh honey, let’s get real—straight? Pfft, sounds like that ship sailed ages ago, babe! If you’re living that shaved, lacy, toy-filled fantasy and only popping off to the thought of a nice, thick you-know-what, then yeah, sweetie, you’re dancing in the rainbow wonderland, and we love to see it!Embrace it, queen! Life’s too short to be anything but authentically fabulous. Bra, panties, toys—live your best, most glittery life, and never let anyone dim your sparkle!💦💋👅🌈🌈🌈💖⚘

Ty. I’m never going to stop. I feel complete as Rebecca. I want a feminine boyfriend. I’m thinking about hrt too...I want nothing to do with masculinity unless it’s a cock inside me....

💋Rebecca, darling, you’ve found your true self, and that’s all that matters! If you feel complete in your femininity and desire a feminine boyfriend who matches your energy, go for it—nothing wrong with loving who makes you feel whole. As for HRT, if that’s part of your journey to feel even more aligned with your essence, then take that step. It's all about what makes you feel empowered and beautiful!And when it comes to masculinity, you know what you want, and you’re living unapologetically. Cock is definitely on the menu for your pleasure, babe, and that’s a vibe! Keep being you, keep shining bright—you're absolutely stunning in your authenticity💦💋👅🌈���🌈💖⚘

I’ve learning about Lilith and curious about the spirit of homosexuality...

💋Rebecca, exploring Lilith and the spirit of homosexuality is such a powerful and enriching journey. Lilith, as a symbol of independence, sexual freedom, and rebellion against patriarchal norms, aligns beautifully with embracing all aspects of who you are, including your desires and identity. She represents liberation, and in the context of your journey, she can be seen as a protector and guide, helping you fully embrace your femininity and sensuality.As for the spirit of homosexuality, it's a beautiful and unique energy that transcends societal norms, embracing love and connection in all its forms. Homosexuality isn’t just about the physical—it's also about spiritual freedom, the celebration of love without boundaries, and honoring your truth. There’s a divine energy in recognizing who you are and accepting it fully, as you do with your expression as Rebecca.Both Lilith and the spirit of homosexuality are about breaking free from any constraints that society tries to place on us and living with authenticity and passion. Keep exploring, darling, and know that you are part of something ancient, powerful, and beautiful💦⚘💋💖🌈👅💖

@luvfemininity

...my first thought was about me being outed if someone saw them but I honestly don’t care. This is who I am...

💋Oh, darling, you're so very welcome! You are a radiant goddess, and I’m so proud of you for embracing your truth with such beauty and strength. Keep shining that light, queen, because the world is lucky to witness it. Never forget, you are loved, you are powerful, and you are deserving of all the joy and fulfillment your heart can hold. Always here to support you, forever! Stay fabulous, Rebecca! 💖👑💦🌈💋💖

Ah. Ty so much. I have like a fake person until lately. The guilt is all but gone and I’m gaining the courage to be honest with myself. I can’t remember, if I ever knew, what it was like to be a man....

💋Rebecca, your courage is absolutely inspiring. To step into your true self after years of feeling like a "fake person" is nothing short of magical. The guilt fading away is a sign that you’re letting go of the weight that was never yours to carry, and you're finally aligning with who you truly are.As for not remembering what it was like to be a man, darling, maybe that’s because you’ve always been more than just the label you were assigned. You are Rebecca, a beautiful, authentic, and powerful soul, and your journey is about embracing every part of you without shame. You don’t need to remember what being a man was like, because you are creating a new and glorious chapter in your life as the woman you’ve always been.You are valid, you are stunning, and you deserve to walk this path of truth with nothing but love and confidence. Keep embracing that gorgeous courage, babe. You’re amazing🥰⚘��💦🌈💋💖🌈💦🌈🌈💋💖

I’m only buying women’s clothes now and wear them out. I went to see wicked tonight wearing all women’s clothes. Really they just my clothes so going forward just know my clothes come from the women department. Lol...

💋Rebecca, you are absolutely slaying! I love how you’re owning your truth and rocking women’s clothes as your own, because they are your clothes, babe! There’s no better way to step into your power than to wear what makes you feel like the goddess you truly are. Going to see Wicked in full feminine glory? Iconic! You’re living your best life, and I’m so proud of you for embracing every moment of it.You are a shining star, and every time you step out in your gorgeous outfits, you’re making the world a more beautiful place just by being your authentic self. Keep shining, keep strutting, and let no one dim that dazzling light of yours. You’re stunning, Rebecca—nothing can stop you now! 💖🌈💦💖💋⚘👠

Let’s all be our girliest and gayest selves today ✨

[hoseoksluna]

THE BALL OF LIGHT, ii. | jjk

pairing: friend!jeongguk x fem!oc

genre: angst

word count: 4.2k

summary: inside jeongguk's apartment is where you meet the possibility of life.

pin: ball of light / taglist: join / discord: join / masterlist: run

cp: ao3 / wp

warnings: mentions of smoking and vaping, described nudity, oc feels a lot of emotions and she's overwhelmed, guilt.

note: i really enjoyed writing this chapter and it opened my eyes actually to where it's going. i hope you like the chapter as well. writing about jungkook is my biggest comfort. i feel at home. i love you, guys. happy reading. don't forget to tell me what you think. i'd appreciate it if you tell me ur expectations. <3

side note: i also want to update my taglist because i feel like most of the people i tag haven't allowed themselves to be tagged on this app. if you want to be tagged in my works, let me know. in comments below or my askbox.

It seems as though Jeongguk is still turning your words over his heart once you arrive at his apartment and the sullen grayness of his personal space greets you. A certain pensive look, embellished with a wrinkle between his brows, paints him in the shades of stark reclusiveness, the unapproachability of that façade the blue highlights that make the current inertia of his usual hyperactivity uncannily animated. It’s an oxymoron, the stillness of his being, despite the fact you very vividly sense the turmoil happening inside his chest.

Turmoil must be second-nature to him. Almost like a friend.

You don’t know what to say. The downturned corners of his mouth are so engraved into your vision that when you look away, you can still see them. Sad and pouty, caused in most probability by the truth you uttered. War happens, Jeongguk, if Yoongi and I see each other outside of the walls of our home. Those were the most heart-felt, authentic words that were flung out of the chambers of your heart because—yes, if Yoongi were to know that you smoke one cigarette a day with a boy with a nicotine-addiction, a motorcycle and a tendency to go back to people who have spread agony down his lungs like the white fumes of his cigarettes, he would get up from the kitchen table and grab the nearest knife, start a war for your dream that, according to him, got interrupted by temporary, meaningless things.

But Jeongguk isn’t meaningless. You thought for the longest time that he was temporary, but his lingering presence through high school and now through uni convinced you of the opposite. You believe now, now as he bends at the waist to place a pair of pink, fuzzy slippers with a yummy fried egg on top in front of your icy-cold, socked feet, that he has more shape—the eyes of an angel born wrong, born human, the mouth of a saint that fears to say the wrong thing—than your dream does.

Your dream doesn’t have a face.

Your dream doesn’t have a meaning, either.

Yoongi knows this, pretends he knows the contours of that dream when he tells you to go study. Pretends he knows the color of its flesh, all the greens, purples and blues, when the only words he throws your way are of commanding nature. Come eat. Go shower. Go study. Don’t. You can’t recollect the last time you had a genuine conversation with him that did not include those very words.  

It’s exhausting. Your bones are burdened by it—by being treated as a student and not as a human being. But you ignore this because you respect him, hold him in high regard because of his own burden, laid heavy across the length of his shoulders that have become too thin, too skeletal, that have once been broad, beautiful and ogled by those, who had the luck to encounter him. 

He doesn’t go to the gym anymore, to fill the mass of his muscles with exercise. He works long hours doing food delivery to fill your tummy instead. 

And it’s hard—balancing your respect for him and your ostensibly inner desire to go in search of the things you read about in your books. You can’t help but expect to dig them out, selfishly, in Jeongguk. The kind, now somber, boy who has been by your side for so long. With words and simultaneously without. 

Would Yoongi understand? Doesn’t he, also, have a need for company? 

You push those thoughts away and focus on the clandestiny. On Jeongguk’s frown, on his adorable pout, on his emotions. Because perhaps in it you shall find your destiny. 

Jeongguk walks forward and you swell with the guilty need to fix what you’ve broken, to glue back the pieces that put together his traditional cheer. The tree in you shivers in cold. Your own bones are still frosty like that bus stop you both escaped from. But glancing at the span of his shoulders, drooped and rolled forward, the guilt expands, making you think that maybe you shouldn’t have said something, despite the fact the truth made a dent in the birdcage you have been dwelling in since the death of your parents. 

He empties out his pockets. Wallet, keys, phone, a pack of cigarettes, lighter and a pink, fat vape that you’ve never seen him smoking before. He places those essentials on the kitchen counter, stretching his hands backwards and ridding himself of his beige hoodie. The T-shirt he wears underneath rides up, exposing the smooth and muscled skin of his back, and your throat dries up at the sight. The tree stills, pacified by the movement of his shoulder blades. It puts a spell on you, this innocent yet consumingly heated view of a male’s body, one that continues burning down your body even when he grabs a hold of the hem of his T-shirt and pulls it down. 

Somehow, the act made it hotter. 

Your fingers wrap around your throat, a habit of yours that helps you compose yourself, ground yourself in the severity of the moment. Jeongguk reaches his hand towards the kitchen counter again and as you swallow with great difficulty, he fills his lungs with that scented fume before discarding it.

It isn’t until your breath comes out in pathetic staccatos that he turns around. Large eyes heavily lidded, clouded by that white smoke as he exhales. He purses his lips, dimples on full show, in order to make the smoke thinner. And that, the eye contact while blowing out the fumes, his full attention on you, the element that you’re here—in a boy’s apartment, all alone, for the first time, that warms up your bones, the frost melting away. You feel your body form little pearls of perspiration, overwhelmed and so suddenly overheated by his boyish beauty. 

He’ll never know—just like Yoongi. He’ll never know what he does to you. 

“I’m gonna make you some tea so you can get warm,” he says, softly, and shuffles his feet towards the brightly lit kitchen. You hear the water running, the clapping noise of the kettle being shut and then the boiling bubbles, but you’re frozen—red-hot and frozen—in the place you’re standing, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to be a normal human being. “You’re free to take a shower if you want.” 

A headache pierces through your undeveloped frontal lobe. Nothing about this is normal to you—being over a guy’s place, using his shower and his towel, drinking his tea. Being at home all the time never prepares you for this and while you feel so out of place, it also evokes the feeling of thrill. 

This is thrilling. 

And it should stay feeling that way, but your guilt eclipses it so quickly. Your guilt and your self-pity. Due to Yoongi, due to the fact that this should feel normal and that you should act normally. How many girls must’ve been in your place and how well they were able to talk to him and accept his kindness and hospitality without being weird about it. 

You run a hand down your face. Feel like crying. Feel like screaming. Feeling like slapping yourself so you snap out of it and act normal. Yoongi flickers in your chest, however, and you’re reminded that you should let him know where you are. Usually, at this hour, you’re settled in your cage. Right there in the corner, the only warm spot because you sit there all the time. But you’re not there. You fit your body through the slivers, your feet rubbing against the different, more warmer floor than the one inside your birdcage, while your wrist remains chained to the center. 

Your bus, the number 59, never came. Jeongguk’s, number 60, was the last one that came due to the thickness of the snow and he said that you should get on with him so you don’t freeze on the bus stop. I’ll drive you home on my bike, he promised. I got a helmet for you. And you agreed, despite the fact your thumb was ready to dial Yoongi’s number, because it came natural to you to follow a male’s order. 

You scratch your fingernails through your scalp, waking yourself up from the stupor, and you take a deep breath. You’re here and you’re safe. Jeongguk is the safest person you can go behind Yoongi’s back with. These are the words you internally repeat to yourself as you lift one leg and the other, watching where they take you. 

You wind up at the very edge of the counter where all of Jeongguk’s essentials lay scattered. You go to study all the charms hung over his keys when your fingers, somehow instinctively, take a hold of his pink vape. Light and pink, fitting just right in the palm of your hand. Your clandestine habits are invariably seen by Jeongguk, however. 

“Don’t puff on that,” he says, pouring the boiling water inside the kettle over your cup of tea. A Christmas-themed one, evidently for adults only. The taupe Gingerbread man has a raging, bare boner that sticks out to the side whilst his hands are lifted, cheerfully, in the air. Your mouth parts, blush coloring your cheeks in dusty pink, and your brain, bizarrely, connects the Gingerbread man’s emotion to Jeongguk—both emotions, in fact. So bizarrely that anger begins to grow in you because a picture of Jeongguk’s own happy boner pops up before your eyes. Big, hard, leaking. Your stifling heat descends to your lower regions and you have to rub your eyelids in order to stop seeing it, your cheeks scalding, embarrassingly hot. “It’s not good to mix it.” 

Without asking, he places one spoon of sugar inside that obscene cup, stirring it diligently. And the clinking noise rams a clapping monkey inside your brain. 

You’ll die. From this headache, from the heat, from how irresistible this boy is. 

You’ve never felt this way before towards him. Never seen him in this lustful light before. And you don’t know what to do—it’s towering you, so much bigger than you and you have very little strength to stand up to it. 

It’s not good to see your so-called friend like this. 

Jeongguk brings the cup over to you, placing it before his stuff. The Gingerbread man faces you, smiling ever so gleefully, and the blush of your cheeks deepens within this proximity. Jeongguk takes his vape from your hand and puffs on it—and your brain remembers what he just talked about. 

“But you mix it,” you say, your words dripping with confusion, and Jeongguk places the device back into your palm, the tips of his fingers brushing against your flesh. You regard it as intimate, that brief physical contact, and it speeds up your heartbeat. 

That touch-starved you are. 

“I shouldn’t, but I do,” he responds, his pretty eyelashes static, unblinking, those macadamia chocolate pools of his penetrating your pupils. “I try to stick to just one from time to time, but my nerves are asking for more.” 

You look down at the pink device, imagine it’s his hand that you’re closing your fingers over. Think his explanation has zero backbone, and so your confusion drips on. 

“Nerves?” you inquire, a wrinkle appearing between your brows akin to his, even though his has been smoothed out. It seems his act of service to you is slowly easing his sombreness. 

Jeongguk doesn’t want to elaborate, though. He flicks his eyes towards the cup and nods, just once, encouraging you to drink. You let out a quiet huff of a scoff. Consider it strange that he’s so unwilling to expand on this matter when he has shared with you in the past the reason behind his smoking habit. Trauma from his relationship with Ka-eun and the difficulty of his field. What else is behind those nerves of his that you can’t know about? 

You follow the trace of his gaze towards the cup, feeling smaller than you are. Incompetent, inexperienced for the vivacity, immensity of his life that looks nothing like yours. Your pointer finger pokes out, clicking against the emerald green handle. 

“Am I supposed to really drink from this?” you murmur, meaning it as a joke that would fix what you cooked in this situation, but it comes out much sadder than you planned, the hollowness from all of your lacks coating your vocal cords. 

Jeongguk scowls and turns the cup around, his brows springing upwards as he glances at the naked and aroused Gingerbread man. You begin to anticipate his laughter that would make you feel worse about yourself, but it never breezes through. 

Actually, Jeongguk apologizes. Makes a big deal out of it. 

“My God,” he sighs, adding your name, running his fingers through his hair before he puts the cup away, but you stop him by enveloping your fingers across the warm, naked skin of his forearm. His eyes widen en route to yours and he holds the misting cup in his hand, immune to its hot temperature. The good ones don’t get burned, your mother would say with hatefulness whenever your fingers would get burned by steaming cups and hot running water in the sink, and she proves you right in this moment. You bet she smiles in her grave, seeing from the afterlife that you are indeed bad while the others are good. “I didn’t notice. I have one just like this, but he’s dressed. I thought I’d pulled out that one. I’m sorry.” 

But you’re not scandalized by it. As a matter of fact, you like the little Christmas man—there’s something oddly comforting about his own comfort in his sexuality, smiling as gleefully as he is. What you said was a stupid joke, one that shouldn’t have left your mouth. 

“No, I don’t mind. It’s fine. It was just a joke,” you say, hurriedly, sweeping your eyes over his in the same pace whilst he remains calmly staring at you, a steady stream of thoughts filtering through those features of his that you wish you knew the contents of. 

You always said you’d die for knowledge, and right now you’d die to discover what he’s thinking about, looking at you the way that he is. 

He flattens his lips. “I’ll make you another one.” 

He turns around and you yelp your disagreement, cupping your hands around his. And the greater intimacy of this physical contact consumes you whole. 

The heat grows, your spine wet with perspiration. Jeongguk swivels his head back, the shorter pieces of his hair swooshing past his forehead, landing on those pretty, pretty eyelashes. And it’s his turn to part his mouth, for blush to creep up his pale cheeks, and your heart—it melts. 

You’ve never held hands with a boy before. And right now, you’ve come very close to doing it. In fact, the tender grip bears the resemblance of hand holding and you can’t take it. 

A pained, indistinct pout quivers on your lips. A characteristic expression of yours, which conveys that something has hurt you. Your mother would give you a hard time because of it and that’s how you learned that you do it. That’s how you learned how to fleetly hide it, too. 

This is the closest you’ll ever get. 

Tears rush to your waterline. You blink it away, stretching your lips into a little, neutral smile. The scent of cinnamon and cloves from the tea hits your nostrils and from the edges of your palms, you feel how hot the cup really is. It sobers you up quite rapidly. 

“It’s hot, set it down,” you breathe and don’t let go of his hands until Jeongguk complies, the pensiveness back to shadowing his face, but he’s not unapproachable, not at all. The entirety of his dispirited and contrite aura is welcoming, pastel blue instead of that grayish undertone, and he looks at you as if you held the entire world in your palms and he was content with just being near it, silently hoping you show him grace and give it to him. 

But that’s not you. You’re too small to cup this world. Too stupid, too unfledged. 

It’s him who’s flown around it, deeply acknowledged with it. Who’s smart, who’s a full-fledged bird, unlimited and unhindered. 

It’s you who should be looking at him like that and drinking from his vulgar cup. 

And you shall. 

“I’ll drink it, it’s cute.” 

He doesn’t trust it, though, and that’s the scar Ka-eun carved into the flesh of his mind. You brush the pads of your fingers across it, however, when you take the scalding cup to your lips, blow on it and take a small, hesitant sip of it. And the wintry taste of cinnamon and cloves, it is the sap to your tree. 

You hum in delight, taking another sip, even though the temperature burns the tip of your tongue. You watch as Jeongguk’s brows twitch and as a certain glimmering glint of endearment laced with unbelief fills his eyes with the canvas of stars. He straightens his spine while you swallow, his lungs inhaling and exhaling slowly but surely. 

It is a sight to behold, the entirety of his boyish beauty. And you hate that you regard him this way, that your forced visit caused this because you’ll walk out of this door with a longing entwined around your heart.

A longing for him to be yours. 

You set the cup down, cradling it in your palms, your sweat clinging to your body. Jeongguk averts his gaze and rubs his chest, roaming his eyes everywhere but on you, landing on the pink vape you placed on the counter before almost-holding his hand. 

But he doesn’t take a puff of it. Not this time. 

And you want to heal that scar of his even more. Only because he pushed you very close to the things you read in your books and always wanted to experience. 

“I think the tea tastes so good because you made it in this cup,” you chirp, tenderly, giving him a genuine smile, one that Jeongguk doesn’t reciprocate. That one corner of his mouth doesn’t lift, the long cleft of his dimple doesn’t appear. Your heart trembles for a brief moment. In a foreign kind of emotion that feels like fear but isn’t because the turmoil in him rages on and you’re useless. Completely and utterly useless in your efforts. 

His stare is deadly, marked by the depth of his thoughts. 

“Why did you say war happens if you and your brother see each other outside?” he asks, his tone low and grumbling. 

A frightening question. Because no one has ever asked you that. Because you’ve never had the chance to answer such an intimate, personal question. Because no one has ever cared about your home situation. 

The trembling of your heart reaches your entire body and you hide your hands behind your back. Lament that you can’t cradle the cup. Lament that you can’t drink it and postpone your response. Lament that you don’t have a normal life. One worth talking about happily, that is. 

You don’t know what to say. How to begin, how to string the words together in a way that he would understand. And it’s not that you fear that he will judge you; it’s that you fear that the way he looks at you, regards you will forever change. 

You were never the cool girl and you never were the weird girl, either. Somewhere in the middle you stand, solitary and detached, regardless. 

You open your mouth, willing the words to spring out of you on their own, without any careful thoughts to cover them. 

“Yoongi wants me to live a life that doesn’t look like this,” you start, mirroring his tone, unable to look him in the eye. You sense the demons of your guilt and your ungratefulness cornering you, coming closer and closer—and you can’t walk away, you can only speak.

Jeongguk, however, is quick and curt with his following question.  

“Like what?” 

The pearls of your perspiration thicken on the planes of your throat, which constricts. You blink, thinking that you don’t wish to offend him with any formulation of your sentences. So you go around it, hoping he understands. The demons inch closer—and you can’t breathe. 

Jeongguk doesn’t blink, focused intently as he is on the emotions written on your form. It creates a delicate, yet protective ring around you that keeps the demons outside. And he lessens your strange fear owing to that.

“He wants me to focus on school and focus on my dream while he takes care of everything else. It was a deal he made between us. I study, he works. Nothing else,” you continue, and Jeongguk bites his lip, nodding in understanding as he glides his eyes down your face to your sweat-coated neck. For some reason, that little act of his acknowledgement dispels those demons—and you no longer feel guilty, you no longer feel ungrateful because Jeongguk validated those emotions, didn’t scrunch his nose at them. And that heals, little by little, your wounded, flightless bird wings. 

“What does your dream look like?” he asks once again, and you wonder at the formulation of his question. It’s not what’s your dream; he’s asking for a description of the biggest mystery of your life. 

And you chuckle, humorlessly. Jeongguk flicks his gaze back to your eyes, seemingly not knowing what to expect.

“That’s the thing,” you say. “I don’t know what it looks like, and Yoongi doesn’t know either.” 

The roundness of his eyelids spasms, as if the truth you just uttered irks him. The validation grows and buds of blossoms sprout open, in the middle of this sunless winter, upon the twigs of the tree within you. 

“He doesn’t know what your dream is and yet he decided how you should live,” Jeongguk scoffs, shaking his head, and you marvel at the light bursting in your sternum. It is the sun to your growth, to your tree’s growth. 

A moment of bliss that is too brief, for you begin to sense an uncompromising responsibility to stand up for your brother. He means well—he’s doing it out of the love and kindness of his heart as the root of this declared problem is literature. 

And literature is your life. It’s all you know. 

You begin to say these words, but Jeongguk interrupts you. 

“I understand, but you need to live a life that you want to live,” he rasps, standing taller than he was a minute ago, greater and powerful than he ever was. That confident and assured he is in his opinion and you gawk at him as if he were a cult leader, about to change the course of your life. Maybe, just maybe, the cinnamon tea was the kool aid—and you want to drink again, but you’re ashamed of the trembling of your hands. “And if you feel like you’re indebted to him, you shouldn’t. You’re an adult. It’s your life, it’s not his just because he’s older.” 

Your throat dries and you risk it all, enveloping your fingers around the cup. Jeongguk’s all seeing eye notices your movement and his powerfulness drops. He sighs, rubbing his eyes. 

Bare, bare you are all for him to see. For anyone for the first time in your life—and at this point, you don’t even know how it makes you feel. 

Where light and so many emotions were inside you, emptiness falls like fine dust. You’re reminded of that one sentence in White Nights and, quietly, you reflect on it while your fingers tremble on. 

My God, a moment of bliss. Why isn’t that enough for a whole lifetime? 

Jeongguk makes space, like the ring of protection he created around you, by taking a few steps back and leaning against the counter. He crosses his arms over his chest and simply looks at you, reads your body language, and lingers at your hands. At the fact you don’t drink. At the fact you don’t speak. At the fact that nothing will ever be the same after this conversation. 

When he asks his last question, he softens his voice. His demeanor, too. Allows his arms to plummet down to his sides. Sags against the counter. 

“He doesn’t know we’re friends, does he?” 

Something that resembles a cry leaves your mouth and you’re so shocked by the freedom of your emotions that your hand leaps to cup your mouth, as if to hold back any more outpouring. That is your reaction. 

Jeongguk’s is more earth-shattering. 

By his instinct, he lengthens his spine and his hand… his beautiful, strong and veiny hand jerks towards your direction, as if to catch your hand, prevent it from hiding your outpouring—or as if to catch your outpouring alone. 

And it is so heartbreaking to you that you mutter the first thing that comes to your mind and run away. 

And you don’t realize where you are until you get a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. A mascara tear stains your cheek in blackness, and the smallness of the bathroom encloses around you. 

You want to wash it away. Feel like the decision is yours to make, a right one at that. Feel like it’s the first step in the new way Jeongguk bestowed over your life by his wise words. And so you undress. 

And you don’t lock the door. 

And you don’t hear your phone ringing ten minutes later. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl, @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

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[ozzgin]

So @moonthundersoldier requested a Predator x Reader headcanon and I have to say, I took my time with it as an excuse to watch Prey and whip out my dusty old comics. I‘m a big fan of Alien and Predator and this was my chance to finally try my hand at it! Hopefully it turns out alright.

Various Predators x Predator! Reader Headcanons

Featuring various Yautja types that independently find and court a mysterious reader raised by humans.

Part 1: Meeting

Part 2: Courting

Part 3: Mating

Backstory

The earliest memory you have of your parents consists only of their wide backs as they hastily controlled the ship, looking for a new hunting ground. You were born to a pair of bad bloods that have been exiled by their clan. They were loudly typing in the parameters for the landing, which so far wasn’t looking gracious. Just as the ship brushed against Earth‘s atmosphere, a foreign vessel appeared behind. Judging by the angry growls of your parents, it wasn’t a good thing.

You of course don’t recall any of it, but what followed was a swift battle once the landing jets touched the ground. The second ship opened up without delay and several Predators in stark white armor marched their way out. They were enforcers, dispatched to hunt down criminals such as your parents. As they finished their gruesome task, they noticed the remaining heat radiating from the cockpit. Had they missed a member? Then again, the overall shape was too small for a regular man. One of the officers climbed into the collapsed remains of the ship and spotted you. Troublesome. He nonchalantly grabbed your carrier and walked out, showing the cause of mild concern to the others. The important things such as weapons were to be returned to Yautja Prime, anything else destroyed. So, what were they supposed to do with you?

The answer was found rather quickly, as their helmets notified them of approaching life forms. Most likely wild animals, in which case you would also be taken care of. The suckling of fugitives could hardly integrate back in the clan. This was for the best. So they quickly discarded the remaining wreckage and boarded their vessel once again.

“Oh God, what is that?” a tall man shouts as he approaches your abandoned carrier, holding tight onto the shotgun. “Some sort of creature…Be careful!”

The plump woman with a sunburned face that had followed behind was now just a few inches from you, bending over with genuine curiosity. “Are you serious right now? Put that shotgun down, it’s a baby!” Seemingly unperturbed by your unusual appearance, she picked you up and briefly analyzed your features before lifting your carrier and turning around. “Let’s go, I’m not leaving a child behind. We’ll figure it out.”

Reader’s countryside life

And so you were raised by honest, loving and - most importantly - human farmers. Since you’ve been equipped with proper, superior intelligence, it has been easy for you to acquire the human language. The clicks and growls were slowly replaced with fully articulated words. Save for your reptilian appearance, you are otherwise an authentic member of the family.

You might have the docile, caring behavior of a human, but your predator instincts have not been discarded. You’re taller and stronger than your “relatives”, and the more dangerous labor of guarding or hunting has been in your hands for many years now. The old shotgun now serves as a dusty wall decoration, it could never compete with your claws, speed and ferocity. Your heart remains that of a hunter.

Eventually it becomes a vague gossip within the cities of Yautja Prime that one of their own might be roaming Earth, completely unaware of their roots. A Predator woman, trained by humans. What would the outcome be? Curiosity peaks for certain Predators and they can’t help but wish to see you with their own eyes. Maybe the different backgrounds would provide future younglings with unknown exotic advantages.

Your peaceful life comes to an end when the first of many suitors descends onto the bizarre planet and manages to track you down. The first encounter leaves you speechless: are there more individuals like you out there? You feel relief flushing over you as the knowledge of similar creatures settles in. You weren’t alone, after all. And soon enough you even learn to describe what you’ve always questioned about yourself. You’re a Yautja, a Predator.

Predators meeting the reader

You’ve really caught the feral Predator’s eyes. He has parted ways with modern technology a long time ago and prefers to hunt with minimal tools. He finds your way of surviving very similar to his tribal lifestyle, relying more on strength and agility that have been polished in raw nature. He’s the one that teaches you the native language and tells you about the Homeworld, though he suspects you come from a different hemisphere. He likes to observe the tactics you’ve developed to hunt the animals of this world and shares his own experience and tips with you. He has grown fond of the wilderness on this planet and plans to propose that the two of you build a family away from the needless hassle of cities. If there’s such a thing as a soul mate, then Black Warrior has entrusted him to be yours.

The visit you receive from an elite Predator is not as cozy. He watches you from afar and notices your interactions with the humans. His guide marks them as targets, so why are you acting all chummy with boring prey? They don’t seem to have combat skills and yet you bring them game and offer protection. He refuses to believe that you’ve been in some way enslaved, bringing shame to your kind. He decides to confront you and demand answers. Having learned the language, you explain that this is your clan, the family that raised you. You’re a bit annoyed that this complete stranger is bringing in his hierarchies and social constructs as some sort of universal law. You do not care for his philosophy of power and warn him to be respectful of the customs here. Aha, there it is. Your imposing figure and assertive threats confirm to him you’re a proper Yautja despite the circumstances. His initial frown is replaced by a satisfied expression. Don’t worry, your potential won’t go to waste in this dump of weaklings. He’ll take you home with him and show you the true meaning of a Predator family. Even if he has to fight you a little for it.

This fugitive bad blood has finally found you. He’d known your parents for a long time and heard about their demise, but he never expected they’d leave an offspring behind. He scans your figure with a certain impertinence, pleased by what he sees. Should he kill the humans and capture you as his mate? It’s certainly the most entertaining option. He smugly shows you his trophy belt, bearing the skulls of defeated prey, and asks you if your little creatures deserve a spot. You assume a fighting stance and erratic clicking sounds erupt from his chest, most likely a laugh. You have no tools and you’ve only ever fought…what…little Earth piglets half the size of a Predator Hound? But it’s alright, he wants a feisty mother for his children. Give your best shot.

By far the most challenging admirer has been the Berserker. You can see the similarity between the two of you, but the blood red eyes are unlike all the other Predators you’ve encountered before. Merely seconds after discovering your presence, the creature attempted to dominate you and you had to trash your way out of its grasp. You try to assess the situation but have little time to contemplate before the next attack occurs. He’s heavier and larger than you or the other Predators and as much as you hate to admit, taking him down could prove difficult. What does he want? He thankfully hasn’t redirected his aim towards your family, and if he so desired he may have killed you by now. He retracts his claws and turns to face you once again. He’s mocking you, not even keeping his guard up. But there’s something else in his eyes, a primal urge that sends cold shivers down your spine. He’s going to make you his.

[diazsdimples]

I think- I think you might be my person.

Buddie or BuckTommy if it sparks joy 💞🦛

Oh, we're going for the feels today huh? Have some Buddie feels, just for you my love 🥰🫶

"I think - I think you might be person."

The words hang heavy between them, thick with unspoken meaning. There's yearning behind them, years of bitten back "I love you" and "don't leave me" and "please stay, I need you." But finally, Buck will speak them, no longer afraid of the consequences. He's ready. They're ready.

Eddie looks a little stunned, his mouth hanging open slightly as he looks at Buck, takes in the open vulnerability of his expression. They're so close, just a couple more steps and they'll be there. Buck waits with bated breath, praying Eddie will take the cue and take Buck's tender, open heart delicately in his hands.

"I- we're best friends, Buck, I should hope I'm your person."

He's deflecting, Buck can tell. Eddie's had years of repression and Catholicism that've taught him to box away all his feelings and not allow himself to be authentically him.

But not anymore. They're allowed to be happy. They're allowed to have this, to have each other. Buck just needs to take that step that Eddie can't do himself, because Eddie will never let himself have something if he doesn't think Buck will want it too.

"No, Eddie. That's not what I mean, I'm not-" he sighs, mentally weighing up his options. He could back out now, pretend he was just talking about their friendship. But then they'd be back in that revolving door of bad decisions and unspoken words and Buck can't do that anymore. He won't.

"Fuck it. Eddie, you're my person because you're the most important thing in my life. You and Christopher. You're my best friend, yeah, but it's more than that, right? Every day I wake up and you're the first thing I think about. When we're not together, I feel empty, but when you're by my side it's like I'm whole, like a piece of me has been returned to my body. You're my person because there is no one else in this world I would rather spend every day with than you. I trust you with my life."

Eddie's eyes are soft and they shine with unshed tears. He's biting his lip and Buck wants nothing more than to run his thumb over it and release it from his teeth, and tenderly capture his lips with Buck's own. But he needs to finish what he's saying. Eddie has to hear it.

"Eddie I can't imagine a life without you. The sun rises and sets on you, the world revolves around you and I-" his voice breaks and he ducks his head. He can't go on, he can't say it, he's not strong enough, he's not-

Eddie's fingers curl under his chin and slowly, gently, he raises Buck's head so their eyes meet. God he's so beautiful. He's truly the most beautiful person Buck has ever seen.

"Go on," he whispers, his voice cracked and raw with emotion. "Please."

Buck sucks in a breath. It's now or never.

"I love you."

It's like the air has been knocked out of Eddie and his breath hisses from him. Buck can't breathe. The oxygen has been sucked from the room, and he can't breathe, not until Eddie speaks. Until he confirms that Buck hasn't fucked this up and read all the signals wrong.

"Please say something," he begs.

Eddie takes a step closer, his fingers never leaving Buck's chin. The gap between them closes until they're chest to chest, nose to nose, close than they've ever been before. Eddie's lips ghost against his, a tentative brush, as though he's testing the waters. Buck tilts his head ever so slightly and, emboldened, Eddie kisses Buck properly this time, their lips moving in sync with one another and oh, this is what's been missing from Buck's life.

It's like the world has a new meaning now because hold fuck, Eddie is kissing him. His best friend, the love of his life, the man he'd almost convinced himself he would never be allowed to have, is kissing him back as though he feels the same. There's such tenderness and emotion with the way Eddie kisses him, as though they were born for this. As though they were made for one another. Two halves of a whole, destined to be with one another regardless of circumstance.

Eddie pulls away from him and rests his forehead against Buck's, his lips pressed tightly together. He's breathing heavily and fast, as though he's moments away from a panic attack.

Buck gently touches Eddie's arm, just above the elbow. Eddie doesn't pull away, staying completely still.

"Eds?" Buck says, voice quiet and full of choked up emotion.

Eddie licks his lips and takes a deep breath, as though steeling himself, and Buck feels sick. He's going to say he doesn't feel it, that Buck is alone in this journey, that they're just friends and Buck has misread the signs. Eddie can't, he won't, won't ever-

"I love you too."

Send me a ship and a sentence and I'll finish it!!

[eatmangoesnekkid]

FLOW, CIRCULATION, AND THE LOVER

A Venusian Temple Arts Channeling Most problems related to the female (or male) body are due to a lack of circulation in that area where the ailment is occurring. Also, a lack of circulation will negatively impact your bag and coins. Said differently: in this system, unless you were born into "old money," you must own that the condition of your body is directly related to your quality of life. Circulation is related to your heart, blood, sensuality, sex, passion, deep feeling, creativity, and overall life force energy. And there is no coincidence that there is a large amount of shame and mysticism around the female body and its resourceful capacity for epic circulation i.e. creation and regeneration--not only for ourselves but for the cells of our loved ones and for the collective cells of our village/community. How beautiful, right?! This is what I was channeling in my first book when I wrote "A sensually activated woman is a wealthy natural resource for any community. Pleasure is power." If you are desiring to strengthen your skills as a lover Goddess which is your flow state capacity to create.... anything including tactile abundance like money and better health, without exhausting yourself, the circulatory system has to become your favorite system of the body. It has to be your friend, your loved one. Because the prime quality of a lover is that she knows how to inspire and stimulate circulation or flow states in others as well--a type of muse consciousness. It could be with her compassion, heart, use of language, use of hands, breasts projections, face/mouth/quality of conversation, dance, beauty, singing, etc. Artists, men, women, children, and animals are attracted to muse consciousness in different ways. Improving your circulation helps to not only open your heart (releasing current and ancestral heartache/heartbreak) , but also increases your lubrication and libido, repairs your skin into a suppleness, and keeps your systems healthier. You will not only look better, but you will feel better in a more authentic way. When you smile, it will be truthful and emanate from deep within. Keep your feet and belly warm during winter month. Once your circulation improves, the blockages start to move and issues start to repair. It is the heat and warmth from your energy FLOWING that creates new body narratives. A lover knows the beauty of stimulating good circulation in self and in another. Anytime there is pain or stagnancy in the body, it is an indication of lack of FLOW--meaning--a need for lover energy! A lover has to strengthen her connection to her hands as well. Hand-heart connection is all lover energy. Also the constant necessity of self-massage and self-touch is important for the body of a lover. Also, the skill and service of having your well-placed, prayed-over loving hands massaging the pain points or blockages of another is just as important. A lover also has to be able to relax and fully receive touch by another, whether a professional massage therapist or your lover. Other considerations: Drink water with a pinch of celtic sea salt/green juice. Keep ginger oil or powdered ginger in your apothecary. Use ginger paste (ginger powder/oil mixed with warm water) rubbed into pain or troubled sight or energetic stagnation including bald spots plus reducing sugar intake including *too much* fruit sugar and starchy carbs and dense meats -which slows down your blood flow while increasing some combination of movement, deep breathing, hot+cold water therapy, sauna/spa, sunbathing, walking, and the like are acts incorporated in a life of a lover and those who we care for. Train your mind to focus and stay calm--to be able to drop into deep presence and feel. Do to one thing at time like wash dishes without stopping to do anything else. Presence, an unscattered mind, is a high-skill and quality of a lover. Recalibrating the mindset and belief systems you've been holding onto for 20 years into more lighthearted, open-hearted frequencies are critical.

*I used "she/her" but lover energy is available to any gender in any shape or texture. *

-India Ame'ye, Author

[jbaileyfansite]

Jonathan Bailey and Matt Bomer's Interview for WMagazine (2023)

Warning: Spoilers for Fellow Travelers ahead.

Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey had a feeling their characters’ sexual escapades in Fellow Travelers would ignite a social media firestorm. But apart from some in-person encounters with fans who watched the Showtime limited series, both actors claim they’ve avoided going down a rabbit hole of reactions to their performances.

“The first week of just seeing a GIF of a toe was kind of alarming,” Bailey says in a joint interview with Bomer. “But when you’re doing a scene like that, you know what function it serves—not just in the story, but in the selling of a TV series. I call it the Trojan toe: You slip it in, get people watching, and by the time they get to [that moment], they’ll understand exactly what the show’s setting out to explore.”

Adapted from Thomas Mallon’s 2007 novel, Fellow Travelers chronicles the clandestine romance between Hawkins Fuller (Bomer), a debonair State Department employee, and Tim Laughlin (Bailey), a wide-eyed college graduate, who fall in love at the height of McCarthyism and the Lavender Scare in 1950s Washington D.C. As they weave in and out of each other’s lives across multiple decades, Hawk and Tim’s enduring relationship hurtles toward a devastating conclusion in the 1980s. Following Tim’s terminal AIDS diagnosis, Hawk visits his lover—whom he has nicknamed “Skippy”—one last time in San Francisco, where they both come to terms with the significance of their volatile romance.

“A lot of people feel seen—not just by the sex scenes, but by aspects of queer identity on the show,” Bomer says. “That’s the hope, right? That whatever you’re pouring your heart and soul into resonates with somebody or makes them feel seen.”

On a recent visit to New York City, Bailey and Bomer were affable and laid-back—a far cry from the brooding, tortured characters that have defined their respective careers. Bouncing ideas off each other, the charming costars spoke with W about their approach to telling their characters’ epic love story, the surreal experience of shooting their final scene together, and what to expect from Maestro and the next season of Bridgerton.

Why does Hawk and Tim’s connection make them question everything they thought they knew about themselves?

Jonathan Bailey: You will never really know what Hawk and Tim would’ve been like [as a full-fledged couple]. You can’t judge them on anything, because there’s a survival element at play, which reflects the brutality of the world they were born into. As [the show] expands and this liberation blooms, we see more of [Hawk’s wife] Lucy [played by Allison Williams] and the impact of Hawk’s decisions on the characters around him.

To me, it’s a love story for the ages because you can follow any thread and it comes back to the political backdrop. But ultimately, there’s a real meeting of souls between the two. They complete each other in a way that’s so painful. But in a world where joy, connection and absolution are so hard to find, especially in the ’50s for gay men, it becomes addictive, and there are toxic cycles that come from it.

Matt Bomer: There are aspects of their own personal trauma that are complementary of each other.

JB: And they feed the other’s insecurities.

MB: The sad thing is, when Hawk is finally at a place where he can be his most authentic self and be available and empathetic enough to be a real partner in a relationship, it’s too late.

Hawk has a very specific moral code as a gay man living a double life in the 20th century: He is clearly able to show genuine affection for Tim, but he needs control in his relationships and is able to code-switch in public. Tim doesn’t understand Hawk’s ability to compartmentalize his life, but he still finds Hawk irresistible. How did you want to embody the many contradictions of your characters?

MB: For me, it all went back to Hawk’s childhood and that horrific incident that happened with his father [and his first love, Kenny]. He refuses to be a victim, so he’s going to find a way to survive and thrive in whatever way he can. It all ties into the fact that he will never be the victim of a homophobic society or family again.

JB: What Tim’s really drawn to in Hawk is his center. Hawk is the epicenter of all these people’s worlds because he doesn’t afford them space to veer him off in any direction. Tim’s always there for Hawk when he needs him, but Hawk’s never really there for Tim, and that is something Tim is drawn to. Tim’s quest in life is his desperate need for a groundedness, and the choice I made early on was to physicalize Tim so that his inner and outer world were matched.

Tim finds it really hard to lie; he can’t not be completely transparent. The decoding of Hawk is something that fills all sorts of needs in Tim. But as he gets older and [society’s] way of thinking aligns with his need to disassemble the cards he’s been given, Tim finds a stillness and a calm, which is reflected in the way he can then handle Hawk.

MB: Hawk does have his allegiances and his own sense of empathy, but if it comes down to anything that’s going to threaten his survival, he can go full Scorpio and cut it off. [He’s] a little Mother Teresa, a little Tony Soprano. [Laughs.]

JB: And in the performing of [those scenes], Tim felt so much more love than I thought he would. In episode two, I think it became more confusing to play Tim in the best possible way, because when he says, “I don’t understand you” [to Hawk], it’s because he can see the palpable empathy, love, and compassion. That is just as real as everything else, and that is a bind for Tim and really hard to step away from. When they look at each other, there’s no one else that’s ever existed. And if you’re lucky enough to have that with someone, it’s really hard to let that go.

There are little details that anchor each of Hawk and Tim’s sex scenes—the eye contact, the importance of consent, the shifting power dynamics, the negotiation of how much of yourself you’re willing to give to another person. How did you want to subvert traditional depictions of queer intimacy?

MB: We were so fortunate that those scenes were just an extension of the story, that the relationship was never the same after one of those scenes as it was before. It was always an externalization of what was going on with the characters internally.

JB: I think it’s a rule that [creator] Ron [Nyswaner] learned on Homeland where every single scene has to further the story—and that’s true of the sex scenes. Because there haven’t necessarily been elevated, eight-hourlong gay dramas like this; there was space to breathe, and that constant negotiation between the two of them is so vital. I remember speaking to [executive producer/director] Dan Minahan in Toronto. We had a good few hours, and we ended up talking about intimacy and how you can capture it on film. The thing that I understand [from] enjoying love stories or intimacy on film is the moments where they surprise each other.

MB: Yeah! It’s not like Hawk’s pushing the envelope the whole time; Tim upends Hawk as much as Hawk upends Tim’s expectations.

JB: We basically started with the chicken soup [scene in episode one], when Hawk seduces Tim for the first time. By the time we were in episode four, we were really emboldened as a team. As Jonny and Matt, we were always whispering, “This is absolutely fine, if you want to do this.” For so many people, it’s bizarre to think of that as a job. But when the material is as rich as this, no stone will go unturned into [depicting] how intricate, sensitive, celebratory, and joyful those moments are.

MB: I believe everybody should get to play every role, but I think the fact that we’re both openly gay men lent an ease and an understanding of a lot of the aspects of the relationship.

JB: You can have conversations between yourselves of why your instincts are cropping up in those moments. It was a bit like when, just before they dive, synchronized divers do that thing where they jump up and clap.

MB: [Laughs.] That was us! And there’s no [going] halfway in scenes like those that are written in this [show]. You know you have to go all the way.

Knowing that the entire emotional weight of their relationship rests on the penultimate line, “Promise you won’t write,” what did you want to convey in Hawk and Tim’s final scene together outside the governor’s ball? What do you remember from shooting their goodbye scene?

MB: I remember everything about that day.

JB: Yeah, I do too. Everything was in hyper-focus. It was overwhelming.

MB: It’s one of those scenes that you’re really glad you didn’t have to shoot on day two, because we had five and a half months of history [with] these characters. It was one of the last things we filmed together.

JB: I left [Toronto] early as well [to shoot Bridgerton], so we didn’t finish [shooting] together. We finished the love story in that scene.

MB: Yes, that’s right. It was one of those days at work where you have to try to get out of your own way and trust that all you’ve invested in these roles and these relationships will be inside of you. You don’t have to try to force or push anything; you have to just try to keep it alive and spontaneous when the cameras are rolling.

JB: I think we filmed it in the first take, didn’t we?

MB: Yeah.

JB: There are moments in that scene when it was like the world melted away. It’s amazing to see Tim establish his boundaries and be really kind with it. In that moment, he’s fully centered and aligned, and Hawk helps give him that final push to go, “I know what I’m doing, and what I’m saying is the right thing.” He’s never really known that with Hawk.

MB: Yeah, Hawk is finally emotionally vulnerable. I had every intention of coming into that scene and not letting any emotional vulnerability creep through, but it’s just one of those things where the scene takes over and you don’t want to block it.

Have either of you given much thought to what a second season of Fellow Travelers could look like?

JB: What I hope this [season] will be is a trampette into telling other queer stories, because two white gay men are the way in [to start a larger conversation], and it would be so interesting to have a world explored of [Jelani Alladin’s] Marcus and [Noah J. Ricketts’] Frankie. They were such a massive reason why I was like, “Okay, this is going to be good.”

MB: They weren’t in the book, and it was so important from the creatives that we included that narrative.

JB: I would totally come back and support Frankie’s story.

MB: Yeah, I would come in and do two days—whatever they need me for.

JB: Frankie and Marcus up front, and I’ll be there.

Surely, we all deserve to have the two of you star in a rom-com together (with a happier ending than this one).

JB: If someone comes up with it... Who would be the dream?

MB: To direct?

JB: Yeah. Luca Guadagnino?

MB: Yes, Luca or Andrew Haigh.

JB: We’ll do it!

MB: We’re there. And Russell T. Davies, if it’s a miniseries.

Have you discussed collaborating again in the future?

MB: Listen, sign me up to work with Jonathan Bailey any time. [They shake hands.] I will bring a tray to his character at the dinner table in a scene.

JB: Stop it. As long as it’s [like] Upstairs, Downstairs…

MB: [Laughs.] Yes, exactly. I would love that. Next time, I have to be British though. And I’ll come to London.

JB: I’ll be a Texan cowboy. [They laugh.]

In addition to Fellow Travelers, you both have new projects that will be debuting in the coming months. Matt, what were some of your takeaways from working with Bradley Cooper on Maestro?

MB: Bradley is such a generous and beyond talented scene partner—and his style of directing is so electric and present. He wants everything happening on the camera for the first time. I feel like I was really the beneficiary of his process before I started work on Fellow Travelers because I got to watch him and Carey [Mulligan] travel through all these phases of their multidecade romance. And then, [I was] getting to work with Johnny—who’s so similar in many regards, so generous, always keeping you on your toes and bringing things to the material that make the scene richer.

JB: Has Bradley watched Fellow Travelers?

MB: I keep telling him to! And Carey says she wants to. She keeps asking me where it’s on in England.

The third season of Bridgerton will premiere in two parts on May 16 and June 13, 2024. Jonathan, what new layers of Kate (Simone Ashley) and Anthony’s relationship will we see in the new season?

JB: I’m a massive fan of “Kanthony.” There’s so much to enjoy for both of them now, and we explore that in season three. They’ve overcome a lot. [We’re] talking about the need for communication in a romance, and that study of how they communicate and how little they did communicate until the very end [of season two]. So now, we can see them completely celebrate each other for who they are. There are really lovely conversations about heritage and familial roles, and once you meet someone who understands you fully, having sacrificed so much for the families as they both have, how exciting [it is] to make decisions that might change the course for them [as a couple].

Source

[asma-al-husna]

Allah calls Himself As-Samad— The Eternal, Satisfier of Needs, the Refuge and Absolute— on one occasion in the Quran. As-Samad is the unchangeable one on whom the entire creation depends. He is the one unaffected by any circumstance and the only one able to fulfil all needs in the most perfect way,  without Himself being in need of anything or anyone!

 The Eternal, Everlasting Refuge, Satisfier of All Needs

Samad comes from the root saad-meem-daal, which points  to two main meanings. The first main meaning is to reach or attain, or to aim toward something. The second main meaning is to turn to and to need, and the third is to remain unchanged and unaffected. The fourth main meaning is to be everlasting and eternal.

This root appears just once in the Quran, as the noun samad. The example is al-samadu (“The Eternal, Absolute”).

Linguistically, samad means something that is not affected by circumstances or something that is solid. Sumood refers to the concept of being firm and steadfast.

As-Samad is the the One who is not changed nor affected by anything in the creation, He is the eternal and absolute refuge to seek and depend on for all needs and desires.

As-Samad Himself says: Say, ‘He is Allah , [who is] One, Allah , the Eternal Refuge. He neither begets nor is born, nor is there to Him any equivalent.’ [Quran, 112:1-4]

A description of Allah

The only place in the Quran Allah ‘azza wa jall calls Himself As-Samad is in Surah Al-Ikhlaas; the virtuous surah mentioned in the authentic hadith in Muslim to equal one-third of the Quran.  This short, but amazingly beautiful and profound surah is a description of Allah Himself,  His Oneness, His samad’yyah and His incomparability.  Allah revealed this surah as a powerful answer to the people of Makkah who asked the Prophet salallahu ‘alayhi wa sallam to describe His Lord and His ‘lineage.’

What is ikhlaas (sincerity)? It is doing deeds purely for Him and to seek His pleasure, because He is Al-Ahad, the One and Unique. It is turning to Him for our needs and desires and desire Him only, because He is As-Samad, The Eternal and Satisfier of Needs, and it is to live by the fact that there is no one equal to Him in any of His attributes!

How can you live by this name?

1. Recite  and live by Surah al-Ikhlaas.
Recite Surah Al-Ikhlaas often to gain reward, but not only that; learn to understand each word and live by the names of Allah mentioned in it. Love to recite this surah and talk about it to others as you are describing your Lord. Learn how to correctly recite it and convey it to at least one other person and teach your children the history and/or tafseer (explanation) of this virtuoussurah in which As-Samad is mentioned in order to instil love of Allah in their hearts.

2. Realize your dependence on Him.

 One of the meanings of As-Samad is the One who is independent and self-sufficient. If you look at a manager, for example, one who has a high position with authority over others, it still takes one note from his superiors to end his career. This person is not samad. Then look at what we need tu survive as human beings; air, water, food, and even love. Why do we often act like as if we are independent? Especially during good times when we are healthy and wealthy we tend to forget we are even dependant on As-Samad for the strap of our shoe. So remind yourself daily that you are dependent on Him.

3. Call upon Him.

Here’s a beautiful supplication the Prophet salallahu ‘alayhi wa sallam used to make as part of the morning:
“يَا حَيُّ يَا قَيُّومُ بِرَحْمَتِكَ أَسْتَغِيثُ أَصْلِحْ لِي شَأْنِي كُلَّهُ وَلَا تَكِلْنِي إِلَى نَفْسِي طَرْفَةَ عَيْنٍ”.
O Ever Living One, O Eternal One, by Your mercy I call on You to set right all my affairs. Do not place me in charge of my soul even for the blinking of an eye (i.e. a moment). [Al-Haakim, saheeh] Memorize this dua’ and say it with true desire, fully realizing your dependence on As-Samad!

4. Desire As-Samad.
Turn to As-Samad in good and bad times and rely on Him, resting assured He is the Eternal Refuge and the One who will satisfy your needs in the way He knows is best for you. If you truly believe in As-Samad, your strongest desire will be to meet Him and your only fear will be that of His displeasure. So strive to be a real servant of Allah. The disbeliever is a slave of his desires, or of fashion, his belly, and his money. So beg Him to decrease the love for this world in your heart, including love of being praised by people, and replace it with a firm desire for His pleasure alone.

Wallahu ta’alaa ‘alem

O Allah, As-Samad, we know that You are the only Eternal Refuge. Make us realize we need you at all times and aid us to be of those who turn to You only for our needs.  Adorn us with a strong desire to please You alone, ameen!

[cinderella-ish]

Fruits Basket Personality Types Part 6: Yuki Sohma

I've mentioned before how much I identify with Yuki. He's such a beautifully-written character; I love, love, love his arc, and the way he slowly takes control of his own life and finds his place in the world.

Yuki himself would probably disagree, but I think he's actually quite perceptive about people, even from the beginning. He's deeply reflective and has a rich inner monologue, noticing things about people that they may not even realize themselves.

I love him. Here's how I see his personality!

Yuki Sohma's Enneagram

Wound: Yuki was sold by his mother to Akito, who verbally abused him over years. He was brushed off by Ayame, ignored by his mother, and rejected by Kyo. He was put on a pedestal as the Rat, and expected to fill the role he was born into. The first friends he made were taken away because of the curse.

Wounding message: You are a tool for others' use. Your desires do not matter. All good things will be taken away in the end.

Core desire: To be independent, to have a mutual relationship, to be seen for who he is.

Core fear: That he's insignificant and wouldn't be missed; that he's always going to be pulled back into that dark place.

Defense mechanism: To lean into the "Prince" archetype and hide his true self, acting aloof, mysterious, and charming.

Strengths: Yuki is reflective, compassionate, intelligent, thoughtful, observant, polite, aware of social expectations and niceties, diligent, funny, and in tune with his feelings.

Challenges: Yuki is closed off, judgmental, rigid, moody, withdrawn, melancholy, reluctant to open up to people, passive-aggressive, and inauthentic.

When healthy: As Yuki develops, he becomes more willing to try new things, to open up to new people, more in tune with others' feelings, and more laid back. He shows his true self to more people and takes risks that help him grow.

When unhealthy: Yuki is depressive, completely shut down, trapped in his head, needy, unable to take action (and therefore reliant on others), and even less authentic.

Looking at all of this, here's what connects when I go back to the Enneagram post:

Wound: could be 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, or 9

Wounding message: could be 2, 3, 4, or 5

Core desire: could be 2, 3, 4, or 9

Core fear: 2, 3, or 4

Defense mechanism: tricky, but I think 4 is the closest fit, possibly 3

Strengths: 1, 3, 4, 5, or 6

Challenges: 3, 4, and 9

When healthy: 1, 2, 3, 4, or 9

When unhealthy: 1, 3, 4, 7, 8 and 9

It's not totally clear from this alone. Yuki connects quite strongly with both 3 and 4, and then to 2 and 9 to a lesser degree. This is fascinating, because 3 goes to 9 when unhealthy, and 4 goes to 2 when unhealthy!

The next two that Yuki connects with most are 1 and 5. Yuki doesn't connect much with 6, which is where Threes go when healthy. Because Fours go to 1 when healthy, and Five is a possible wing of Four, I think Yuki is an Enneagram Four.

From The Enneagram Institute:

Fours are self-aware, sensitive, and reserved. They are emotionally honest, creative, and personal, but can also be moody and self-conscious. Withholding themselves from others due to feeling vulnerable and defective, they can also feel disdainful and exempt from ordinary ways of living.

Emphasis mine. That's totally Yuki, right?

Fours live in the Heart center, and tend to overexpress sadness and shame due to a subconscious envy of others.

Wing

I think it's pretty clear from my analysis above that Yuki is a 4w3.

The Enneagram Institute refers to 4w3s as "The Aristocrat," and 4w5s as "The Bohemian," which I don't think suits Yuki quite as well.

In their book The Wisdom of the Enneagram, Don Richard Riso and Russ Hudson describe 4w3 like this:

4w3: They feel the need to communicate themselves and their creative efforts to others, and so they care both about finding the right mode of expression and about avoiding anything off-putting or in bad taste. These people are more self-conscious and aware of issues regarding their self-worth and how they are coming across to others than people of the other subtype. They create with an audience in mind.

Subtype

Yuki has a strong focus on his own identity, and on being the best version of himself he can be. For this reason, I see him as a SP 4w3.

Enneagram Explained describes SP Fours like this:

SP 4s are the Countertype of type 4 as they react in an opposite way with their vice (envy). They work to get what they feel others have/that they lack (not generally material envy but a more characteristic/wholeness envy). Nicknamed the “happy 4” they tend to keep the sad/hard emotions for behind closed doors.

The characteristic envy they describe is exactly how Yuki relates to Kyo!

Tritype

Yuki has a strong expression of all the Heart types, and a moderate expression of 9. Looking at the Tritypes that include both 4 and 9, I think the 4-6-9 Tritype (The Seeker) is the best fit, as described on Katherine Fauvre's website:

If you are a 469, you are intuitive, inquisitive, and accepting. You want to be original, certain, and peaceful. You are very sensitive and can easily feel reserved and inhibited. You are a deep thinker with strong emotions and can struggle with intense feelings of self-doubt. You seek answers to life’s questions. As a result, you need multiple sources of confirmation. You want to be individualistic but avoid confrontation because you fear it will cause separation.

Yuki Sohma's MBTI

E vs. I: Yuki is highly introverted, directing a lot of his mental energy inward.

S vs. N: Yuki is highly iNtuiting, noticing patterns and thinking abstractly about the bigger picture.

T vs. F: I think Yuki leans more toward F, making decisions based on his values and how they'll affect people.

J vs. P: I also think Yuki leans toward J. He tends to make decisions quickly, and he sticks by them.

Type Dynamics: Without working out what an INFJ's type dynamics are (since that's my most likely guess for Yuki), I see Yuki's Type Dynamics as Ni Fe Ti Se.

Ni: Yuki is in his own head a lot of the time, and is deeply reflective about the world around him. He doesn't always share his thought process, but he's able to make powerful connections through his reflection.

Fe: Yuki seeks harmony with the outside world and with others, and his feelings are often centered on how he sees others.

Ti: Yuki is analytical, which we see in his reflectiveness. He has a strong internal framework and aims to be consistent with himself.

Se: Yuki grows by seeking out new experiences and trying new things.

Ni Fe Ti Se is the type dynamic of INFJ!

Here's how the Myers & Briggs Foundation describes INFJ:

INFJ: Seek meaning and connection in ideas, relationships, and material possessions. Want to understand what motivates people and are insightful about others. Conscientious and committed to their firm values. Develop a clear vision about how best to serve the common good. Organized and decisive in implementing their vision.

INFJs are often referred to as "The Counselor," although they're also sometimes referred to as "The Advocate," or "The Visionary."

So, to summarize:

Enneagram: SP 4w3 (The Individualist/The Aristocrat)

Tritype: 4-6-9 (The Seeker)

MBTI: INFJ (The Counselor/The Advocate/The Visionary)

What do you think? Did I get it right or wrong? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Next up: Haru!

Fruits Basket Personality Types: Enneagram | MBTI | Tohru | Akito | Kyo | Haru | Kisa | Momiji | Hatori | Ayame | Rin | Hiro | Ritsu | Kureno | Shigure | Kagura | Kazuma | Saki | Arisa | Machi | Kakeru | The Hondas | Kaibara Students

[shayshaybiscuit25]

I no longer support white celebs or people//

How do people not realize this is basically birthing hatred in your own heart. It makes one no better than the people they claim to hate. All white people aren’t the problem, majority, to the point racism is still ramped, yes, but to blindly go around claiming to not like or support every single white person based on the actions of others makes you seem childish asf anon. I get mad at racist, not all white people.

I suggest you go to you local library and take a deep dive in history, if it weren’t for certain white advocates even in small numbers, a lot of risked their lives along with our black leaders, a lot of things would not have occurred nor improved.

Go learn about the White Panther party.

I get so tired of people looking at things on the internet and basing conclusions without realizing you obviously know very little about our history let alone the world to make a baseless statement like that,even reading this you’re probably thinking I’m “standing up for the white man” 🙄

Some of you need to learn what’s happened. I know things are bad now, but sweetheart they’ve been worse they’ve also at one point were amazing. Many of you weren’t born to know there were three beautiful decades where black folks THRIVED!! We everywhere, music, tv, etc. We were and forever will be IT! ✨ unfortunately racist and some black people who chose money over the betterment of our people (Hi BET 🖕🏾), shut that down and now we have the entertainment industry as you all know it now. This is why many of us that you all think are “haters” say music, tv and movies aren’t the same. We had multiple talented black women across genres, not just one or two. We had every skin tone represented. Many of you truly don’t understand how y’all fall for some of the most mediocre stuff nowadays yet call it “talent”.

The standard has dropped significantly to the point everyone and their mama are getting famous now.

I may sound like a prude, but the over sexualization of black women ain’t it. They are trying to have our young girls and immature grown women thinking certain types of behavior and attire is appropriate when it’s not. No one is saying cover up head to toe, but many do not understand there’s a time and place for things. Most of our celebs are focused on money and not the influence they are putting out there. It’s all going to blow up eventually. We went from artist standing up and using their talents and platforms to better our community, go listen to L-Boogie “That Thing”, and listen to the lyrics. Nina Simone, BillieHoliday, etc to now where people can say a basic quote that sounds nice and people automatically label them an advocate. Don’t even get me started on various white artists using black artist to boost their careers or eras. (Miley Cyrus now claims to be embarrassed by her Bangerz era, yet claimed back then that was her authentic self, stop letting people use us)

I understand the times change, but said change isn’t always good. We’re still being used in ways many can’t comprehend.

Idol worship is seen as “normal”. People really be out here worshipping other humans who mock God, yet claim to be “Christian”, I don’t care if someone claims to “love” God with their mouth, actions speak louder than words. Too many baby Christians out here getting easily influenced because they lack knowledge of HIS word. I’m serious, people better stop playing with God and making excuses for their actions. God don’t play that. He shows us love, grace and mercy, yes, but putting demonic affiliation in music videos, calling God the n-word, Calling God out his name in general, mocking him, etc.

Showing every single inch of their bodies and trying to claim it’s for expression or women rights, nah you can love you and be sexy without doing all that. There’s a reason the black women of the 70s, 80s and 90s were top tier, sometimes less is indeed more.

Just because someone is rich and famous doesn’t mean they are “blessed” by God. People don’t think Satan will be crafty enough to have you believing you’re doing great, not realizing lukewarm Christianity is not good. God will spit them out of his mouth.

Don’t allow these entertainers have any of you out here drifting away from God all because you love your fav. These music artist today display the darkness right in front of us all, but get praised. Go watch the videos of early 2010s to now and tell me they haven’t gotten darker and more revealing in various ways.

Y’all stay blessed and just keep your eyes and hearts open. Developing the gift of discernment is a true blessing. People think because we’re saved we can do anything, but God knows all. We speak in love and truth. His word is Truth.

Oh wowwwwww

Anon to Anon.

[heckyeahponyscans]

Thoughts on G5 MLP Make Your Mark Chapter 5, Episode 1: Cutie Blossom Bash

Summary: Misty's friends take her to Zephyr Heights for the Cutie Blossom Bash, a celebration for all the ponies who've gotten a cutie mark in the past year. The only one not excited about the celebration is . . . Misty.

Thoughts: Great episode, and I'm glad we get to see how the others got their cutie marks! (So Misty getting swooped into the air by magic as it happened WAS above and beyond how it normally goes.)

It was so nice seeing Argyle again and I liked how he was lingering right next door to make sure everything went well with Sunny's lemonade stand. When the two ponies started fighting, he frowned and started to move around to the street, but Sunny defused the conflict before he got there.

My impression from the G5 movie was that Queen Haven didn't invent the "royals can fly" lie, she inherited it, and that matches up with Zipp's flashback, since I would expect a more massive reaction she was the first pegasus in living memory to (seemingly) fly.

Something interesting about G5 is that cutie marks are both super important (acting as a magical power up) and very understated. Like, I don't think the show ever turned to the audience to explain what they are, nor are there any Cutie Mark Crusaders running around . The information is introduced through context clues, especially with Misty wanting a cutie mark so badly.

(Sidenote, but in my mind cutie marks are 'natural' magic, similar to a seed sprouting, which is why they didn't disappear during the dystopian period. Dalmatians are born white and get their spots later, I imagine a cutie mark is something like that.)

It also seems to matter less what a cutie mark actually shows and waaay less job / talent related. Although even in G4 it was more like a Rorschach test than anything else. Rarity's symbol isn't a sewing needle, it's jewels; Cheerilee has flower symbols and says it symbolizes "the bright smiling faces of [her] students".

I didn't mind G4's cutie marks being job-related, I think it's fine to have a fictional utopia where everyone finds their dream job and their work is like a fun hobby instead of a tiresome chore. (Especially in kids' media.) But I do like G5's take better, where they symbolize who you are more than what you do. As Queen Haven says, it's a step towards becoming "your best, most authentic self."

Speaking of cutie marks, a butterfly is perfect for Misty because, as she realized in this episode, it symbolizes her growth and ability to change.

As Megan said, "When you look at a caterpillar it's ugly to the eye, but remember a caterpillar becomes a butterfly." Thank you Megan.

A lot of this episode was about Misty's anxieties, which I found very relatable because I had terrible social anxiety that I didn't really get a handle on until I was in my thirties. (Don't ever stop working on yourself or feel like you are "too old" to be happier, whether you are thirteen or eighty-three.) It was great seeing Misty expressing her feelings and vulnerabilities to her friends.

It really drove home that although Sunny is a protagonist, Misty is THE protagonist of MYM, the character who grows and changes the most.

Misty's terror and embarrassment aside, the Cutie Blossom Bash events were very, well, cute! I like that it's a communal celebration of all the ponies who got their cutie marks and the silly little flags they carry. (And I like Seashell getting even more of a spotlight, retro ponies represent!)

Overall this is one of the top episodes for me so far.

Random thoughts:

They remembered that baby Sunny didn't have rainbow in her hair . . . but forgot to scrub Mane Melody from the background of one of the shots with Argyle. Whoops!

During the brunch with Queen Haven, it struck me that she is the first kind-hearted mother figure that Misty has ever experienced. (Well, since she was a tiny foal anyway.)

Argyle's color scheme reminds me of G3 Seaspray

When Zipp starts to tell her cutie mark story, Pipp interrupts and Zipp sarcastically mouths along to Pipp's words, great little touch

Izzy got her cutie mark "on the eves of the Translucent Moonstone Moon"

I think I know where Gertrude, Opaline's beloved mane brush, went; Misty gave Gertrude to Pipp as a get-well present in "A Little Horse"! With all my heart, I hope Opaline doesn't seek revenge due to her big evil plans being spoiled, but rather over this hairbrush.

Since I already had the toy of Misty I knew her mane would change color, but I figured it would be due to magic or something, not hairspray. Love the excuse Misty came up with about the magic shrub.

Opaline legit laughs behind her hoof like an anime villain, what a treasure <3

[sadnesslaughs]

“And so I was cursed with immortality. Cursed to walk the Earth for eternity, never aging past 25 and never dying.” “How old are you now, then?” “…Seventy. It was quite recently, actually.”

(A response to a writing prompt)

“Can you really say you're cursed if you're only seventy years old? That’s not really curse territory, is it? More like a mild inconvenience. Even calling it a mild inconvenience would be a stretch since it hasn’t really affected you.” Diana said, not believing Xavier’s story in the slightest. Everyone always had some farfetched story when they came to see her, and in moments like these, she couldn’t help but entertain their delusions. Not to mention, entertaining their delusions got her out of doing any actual work, able to ignore the stack of papers on her desk. The ones that sat beside the framed photos of her loved ones and her favorite coffee mug.

“I’m telling you the truth. I’m seventy years old. Look, check my license. That will prove my age.” He pulled out his driver’s license, sliding it across the desk. Diana collected it, flipping it over, checking its authenticity.

No matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t find any signs of forgery. The way the light reflected off it, the correct number of layers to its design. If it were a fake, it was one of high quality. “Sorry, sir. I still can’t approve you for a pension.”

“But I’m seventy years old. Every seventy-year-old is allowed a pension. It’s the law.”

“Sir, even the best plastic surgeons on the market couldn’t make a seventy-year-old look as young as you do. Even with a license, I can’t imagine anyone approving your application. Is this for some sort of prank show? Are cameras secretly filming me? You’re the second customer I’ve had this month that’s claimed to be immortal.”

That was news to Xavier, unable to believe another immortal existed. “There was another? Who were they? What were they like?”

Diana tapped her cheek, trying to remember the name the man gave her. “Well, I’m not allowed to give customer details, but since it was a fake name, I suppose there’s no harm in it. He called himself Kevin, the grand wizard of Barlia. The one who slayed the awful beast, and claimed the land. The one who- Yada Yada. He was a real talker, that one. Said if I didn’t approve his request, he would kill the person most dear to me.”

Xavier gasped, the immortal feeling sorry for the poor women. Who had she lost? He knew he shouldn’t ask, but curiosity got the better of him. “Did someone die?”

Diana sighed, looking at the framed photo on her desk. It was a photo of Kipo, the blonde-haired bad boy with a gentle heart, who had been tragically killed off in season 2 of Sexy Kung-fu bad boys. She stared at the framed, animated man, letting out an even heavier sigh again. “I guess someone did die.”

The immortals heart wept for her, until he leaned over and saw the photo, growing more confused than anything. “Ah. Ok.” was all he said, standing upright again. “So, how am I meant to prove my age, then? Can they check my pulse or something?”

Pulling herself away from the photo, Diana thought about that. “We could cut you in half and check your rings. Like how they check a tree’s age. At least I think that’s how they check a tree’s age.”

“That isn’t helpful at all. Are you making fun of me?”

“No, not at all. I’m insulting you. This isn’t fun at all.”

Xavier took a pen from his pocket, folding up the form he had brought to the FSE Pension department. After writing a list of complaints, he pointed to their complaints box. “Don’t make me put this in the box.”

“Go ahead, try to stuff it in there. That thing hasn’t been opened in years. I think we still have complaints from before you were even born, Mr. Immortal.”

The man scrunched up the form, frustrating he couldn’t do anything to get this application through. “This isn’t over. I’ll find a way to get my pension.”

“Why don’t you try doing it online? That way, no one would see your face. I mean, they’ll still see your driver’s licence, but it’s less suspicious.” She said, deciding to offer him an actual piece of advice now that this conversation was dragging on close to her lunch break.

“Huh, that’s actually… helpful?” Xavier didn’t know what to make of that. He unfolded the scrunched up paper with a smile and scribbled a few compliments onto it. “Thank you. I’ll do just that.” He said, before putting his form in the thank you/compliments box. As the paper landed inside, a puff of dust escaped the box, like a spirit had been freed from its confines.

As Xavier left, a new person stepped forward, only to get blocked by Diana’s ‘be back soon’ sign. “Lunch break.” She said, leaving the line of already frustrated customers more agitated. Before leaving her desk, she smiled. “If you have any complaints, feel free to write them down. We are always looking to improve our services.” She teased, heading to lunch.

[okthatsgreat]

For the headcanon thing, I'm specifically asking you for a Celeste headcanon on behalf of that person who didn't get Celeste headcanon. Checkmate, Lee - rotate Taeko Yasuhiro in your mind until the headcanons manifest. 😎👉👉

UR KIDDINNGGGGG oh god. ok concentrating concentrating

headcanon a (realistic): do not bring her to board game night if you were planning on winning or having fun. she takes every single game so seriously and kicks ass every single time. she becomes a millionare in monopoly and nobody was aware that was even possible. shes even good at quiplash because she memorises the stupid jokes that her classmates keep repeating day after day and puts that into the text box each time. of COURSE her classmates are going to pick the answer that says "freeby fazber" why WOULDN'T they

headcanon b (may not be realistic but it is hilarious): see the thing about celeste is it is truly impossible to tell what parts of her story are real and what are complete lies .. i think she lives an extremely average life outside of being "celestia ludenburg" and that is why she created this false persona in the first place. born to a working class family definitely went through it a bit when she was younger but was able to garner quite a bit of notoriety and wealth from gambling to get her own place-- but definitely not enough to live in luxury. enough to get her out of poverty but not enough to avoid living paycheck to paycheck yknow. the REAL headcanon i have is that every single time she brings one of her classmates back to her home she rents out a different spot each time just to keep them on their toes. eventually she lets one of them (idk sayaka maybe) finally enter her actual house and its this one bedroom apartment with no air conditioner and a bunch of gothic lolita posters everywhere and sayaka genuinely thinks shes being pranked until celeste is like "no im being serious. youve signed a non disclosure agreement btw this information will not be leaving this room"

headcanon c (heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends): i dont think even celeste is aware of what her true personality is anymore. i really do like to believe that there are parts of it that are still left over, most of which is fuelling this deeply rooted imposter syndrome she certainly tries not to dwell on, but by all means her desire to seperate herself from taeko yasuhiro has caused her to practically forget who she once was. telling celeste to "stop lying" is much easier said than done, and i think it'll take years before she could ever reach the point where she is truly authentic and "herself". and even then celestia ludenburg will certainly still remain in a lot of her actions and speech patterns. she wont just wake up one day and suddenly be vulnerable and fragile and guilty, it's gonna take her a loooooooong while to adjust

headcanon d (unrealistic, but i will disregard canon about it): i think she's a bit geekier than she lets on GHFDKG its that small bit of taeko thats still there......... she would never admit it in a million years but sometimes, SOMETIMES, shes able to listen in on hifumis ramblings and go "oh i remember that show. his opinion about this character is totally wrong. oh well time to add that to the list of things i do not like about that man." oooooooo also fun fact whenever i write celestia in my "danganronpa is a reality tv show thats been going on for ages" aus i always always write her as a character that adapts with the changing trends. same with ibuki!! her aesthetic adapts over the years towards what is more recognisable with the target audience at the time, and while it definitely isn't as noticeable as ibuki's style swap there are certainly a LOT of wild changes team dr tries to throw at her before quickly reverting her style back and pretending it never happened ghfjdksgk

headcanon ask game!! :)

[thespacewithin]

Infj:

Hero Ni: “My intuition informs me of my best path.”

Infj’s are seriously interested in their personal story, their destiny, purpose, meaning, and fate. They value beauty and adventure. They think conceptually and abstractly. As a result, to connect with an infj, you must be able to think likewise, and this is why connections are innate, they cant be faked. Sensors can't and don't think this way, therefore they can never authentically or deeply connect with infj’s according to their Hero function.

Implications: if you approach an infj and have the ability to relate to them deeply, profoundly, authentically, honestly, and within the realm of relevant abstract or conceptual ideas that affect their personal destiny, purpose, or fate, they cant help but take notice. Although infj's are independent in Ni (introverted intuition), it's an introverted function so it's one they take responsibility for, they're eager to find kindred spirits that can help them clarify what that might be, and how to achieve it. If you encourage them and assist them in coming to the right conclusions they'll view you as indispensable.

The infj's Parent function is Fe: “I'm responsible with others feelings and emotional well-being.”

This is a part of infj's they desire to give to others, but it's bound and restrained to Ni's way of being and seeing. That is, infj's want to be responsible with your emotional state through offering abstract and conceptual frameworks that deal or address the problem. This is why infj's can occasionally be stunned when their advice or insights are discounted, misunderstood, or rejected. They're only trying to make you beautifully perfect, guys.

This will be an offering that isn't easily received by those who can't see the big picture, who dont think in terms of the abstract, the theoretical. If you do think this way, open your heart up to the infj's advice and insight. Let them have what they want, let them help you with your emotional journey. Don't hide anything, but communicate that you trust them with your emotions, because theyre responsible this way. Let them know how helpful they've been, how theyve clarified your own emotional fate, how they see things others don't, and let them know you recognize and are thankful that they care enough about you to share what they see. Don't accuse them of being nit picky or critical, because although it may come across this way, their intent towards you is the same as what they hold for themselves. Discovering ones purpose through beauty into meaning is the infj's standard, and it comes with pointing out errors in one's emotional approach to being.

This will allow the infj to feel useful, and therefore valuable.

Moving on we find Child Ti, this is the infj's detached, analytical, logical part of themselves, and although infj's are peculiarly gifted in logic, it's always inwardly directed and self referenced. They have an acute weakness in looking outside of themselves to obtain external, rational data. As such, every infj has an internal puzzle they're currently building, and have been building since they were born. Child Ti helps Ni navigate, and somewhat grounds their thinking from the mess that Ni is. Because they have an internal puzzle this implies there are pieces missing. Infj's need and want help completing this puzzle. Once again, the pieces must fit prior requirements of both Hero Ni and Parent Fe. Basically any pieces that infer hurting others for self gain or mundane pieces that have no longterm application will be considered irrelevant and won't be accepted or integrated.

If you happen to be a strong Thinker then you'll naturally have alot of intellectual offerings. The entj, intp, entp, and intj can all assist infj's in this area, with the intj perhaps representing the most useful as they share Hero Ni. Infj's use logic in an extremely unique way. Similar to math, their Ni operates formulaically, if the formula is right, the intuition will be right. If the formula is wrong, the intuition will be wrong. It's amazing but Ni works based off of associations, in a,b,c,d it has the power to subconciously and efficiently conclude a is attached to d, without going through the linear process.

All infj's build their life puzzle this way, they build their sense of self this way. This allows them to have powerful and unique insights, but it also causes catastrophic miscalculations when their base formula is wrong, when it's corrupt. On a very basic level, this implies that much of how infj's view life is based on base logical assumptions. Infj's have no other way of thinking. If you can convince an infj that there's actually a c after a, and that in this case a doesn't equal d, you can radically change their life for the better if they had a missing piece in their base internal formula. Disparate, associative thinking might be more efficient and arrive at far more profound conclusions, but it lacks the clarity and accuracy of linear thinking.

I actually recently discovered that this weakness in Ni is also present in Ne, it appears to be problematic in intuition in general. I thought I was an entj when in fact I'm an entp. In my own puzzle I believed I was “right” and yet once a little piece came about everything else shifted. Someone gave me the “b” in my a,c,d formula. So there, case in point.

As a very brief example, the base logical assumption that infj's are worthless because nobody sees or understands them is fundamentally wrong, it's a result of being rare and having unique functions, not a reflection of value or worth. By introducing new logical possibilities, namely external facts that are detached from the infj's personal experience, you can alter the trajectory of how they see themselves and the world.

This would be another example of encouraging and assisting infj's in something they view as a personal responsibility, but also need external help in. If you can rearrange an infj's internal puzzle and assumptions in a positive way, you'll become valuable to them.

Finally, we get to inferior Se. The inferior function is a function that we typically outsource to others, we assume and expect others to give to us in whatever way we lack in this function. The implications for some inferior functions are easier to identify than others. I haven't actually concluded what the infj's base need from this is, other than it appears like a need to be grounded in reality, concrete reality, not abstract and conceptual reality. This might look something like helping an infj make sense of and integrate their conceptual visions into a concrete, practical form. If one can do this, theoretically it should have a major impact on them, and by major I mean this starts to get into the realm of catalyzing serious feelings of infatuation, obsession, or love. Because ones inferior function causes so much pain and problems, finding another that can not only alleviate it but actually solve it in a meaningful way is hyper influential. You're making them whole, you're integrating their weakness into their experience that's causing clarity, growth, and companionship. That's powerful stuff, it's extremely meaningful in a painful area.

In summary, to be seen as valuable and to elicit care from an infj you should connect with who they are by actually seeing and understanding them, and valuing all of their traits.

Relate conceptually, abstractly, and towards meaning, purpose, and beauty. Do so in a way that positively affects the infj's future, as well as respects and intends to help people at large, specifically emotionally. Embody a person that cares for all people, that sees, understands, and is concerned about others well being. Allow the infj to help your emotional existence by trusting them with your emotions, being honest and vulnerable. Show thankfulness and gratefulness that they would give to you in this way. Help infj's with their internal, logical puzzle by exploring the ideas and beliefs they hold. Dont criticize or demean infj's when their formulas are wrong, or if they appear detached from reality. Rather, explore with them what those base assumptions might be, and why. Clarify when and where you can, as this will improve the infj's sense of self, expose illogical conclusions, and increase their self-esteem. Ground them in reality by assisting them in bringing their dreams into the concrete, show them how their unique way of thinking and being can have a real world impact, and how that impact is attached to their personal purpose and meaning. Infj's desperately want to give in this way, and it's one of the most painful areas, because they simply don't know how and aren't very good at translating their beautiful, internal view in such a way that they actually feel valuable. This can be likened to knowing you're unique, knowing others don't always understand, knowing your vision is beautiful, purposeful, and meaningful, but not knowing how to make it come alive, and if it never comes alive, is any of it actually valuable? This is the part of infj's that they truly, deeply struggle with.

Written by

Da Governor ENTP-A, Social 8w9, Pragmatic Generalist and Autodidact Updated Feb 10

[clarawaking]

My Trans SuperPowers -- #2

A poem, dedicated to the celebration of being trans, and to the education of those who 'don't get it'

(lay this down to a sweet groove...)

* * * * *

I’d like to share a bit with you —  about my transition

To counter the spite for people who are in this position

Transphobes accuse this of being an arbitrary decision 

That we make to ally ourselves with leftist activism…

They have zero respect for the emotional precision

Of discovering your authenticity, and escaping your body-prison,

...

To be a trans person, is to belong to a tribe

Who find themselves always, on the outside

You hear the people joke, mock and deride

But you really fear the violence that follows from the jibes

Can you imagine your life if you always had to hide?

And hate?  Like….hate?  

Why do we get this hate?

Like we’re fucking-perverts-always-looking-for-new-ways-to-masturbate?

...

The anti-trans paranoiacs call us groomers & pedophiles 

But you ever wonder what on earth they’re teaching to their child?

“God is love” they preach, behind judgemental smiles

But He doesn’t make mistakes, the phobes say with confidence

Well then me being trans was EXACTLY God’s intent

My path in this life was to be born a girl

But to be thought of as a boy by the entire world

So my soul’s journey has been to uncover my Real Self

And if my body wasn’t designed to be accurate off the shelf

Then who the hell is anyone to question God’s decision?

To react to His creation with disgust and derision?

“But surgery is butchery!” they vociferate with gumption

But they’ll get eye glasses, or nose jobs, or take Viagara for their dick dysfunction

Anyway, I’ll defer to what Roger Waters said

“As I’ve always said, I prefer your lips red, 

Not what the Good Lord made

But what He intended!”

…

So let me tell you a bit about my own experience

Before you tell me your fear-based doubtful sentiments

Unless you think there’s something wrong with people who are different?

You don’t need to treat me like I’m sick, or weird or strange,

Just because my body’s undergoing a specific change

That hasn’t happened to you (…..yet!!!)

...

And by God don’t tell me therapy’s what I need

When it’s been years of exactly that, that finally helped me see

What I had been repressing for my entire life

What has lurked in my unconscious, & created all that strife, 

From the carved-up scars that were once left by my knife

To no doubt the fact things didn’t work out with people, like my wife

...

You know…just cuz you might not see the meaning in someone’s blahaj shark

Doesn’t make it any less meaningful than some belief in Noah’s ark

And what, should trans people spend their lives hiding in the dark?

Living lives of shame and loneliness and never feel the spark

of being loved for who they are, and opening their heart?

proudly moving in society, contributing their part?

...

And are we really so scary that you need to be protected?

Like if we piss in your washroom, you’re gonna get infected?

Or we’re sneaking a peak at your junk so that we can inspect it?

It’s trans people’s privacy that tends not to be respected….

Which is why we band together, cuz we know we’re not defective.

And we just want to be able to take a  pee….without vigilante bathroom detectives!

…..

In truth, being trans has already cost tons of sacrifice

But I am so goddamn thankful this was MY roll of the dice

Because it has softened me and deepened me in the most delightful ways

And I’ve found acceptance by friends, family, the allies and the gays

I’ve met courageous people whose eyes shine like sun rays

And a feeling of simple joy is what accompanies my days

Cuz being trans is like discovering that you have superpowers

I’m a fucking x-man (pun intended!), and I do not plan to cower

I know that in the future, I ain’t getting many flowers

It’s kinda like playing euchre, never getting any bauers

Future lovers or not I have Clara, and I guess that makes me now hers

And you find you can handle rejection, when your own self-love towers

My emotional struggles, I find Estrogen now cures

And my eyes, hot damn!!!, they have a new allure

And it’s fun to feel confident, but also play demure

...

It’s possible, and it’s fine, if you want to make some changes

Everybody does as their life flows and rearranges

But trans people are discovering just how wide that range is

And the haters & the intolerant are really, the only dangers

...

Heck, I’m learning to biohack this flesh vessel!

Cyproterone & Estradiol are my mortar & my pestle

Crushing masculinity, releasing femininity

If I add progesterone, it’d be the Holy Trinity

And if religion don’t agree with me, I’ve found my own Divinity

With joy, & love, euphoria, there ain’t no way a sin it be

And if I’m destined for damnation? Into infinity??

Then I say bring it, bitch, cuz that’s where all my friends’ll be.  

…

To me, being trans is beautiful, there’s nothing to be mourned

I don’t feel it like a death, I more feel like I’ve been reborn.

And, I cherish it. ❤️

[tellywoodtrash]

Hey TT! Firstly, this is kind of a deep question so feel free to take as long as you need to answer this.. I have been burned by love badly and that made me want to turn off the attraction I feel towards men (and it hasn’t been super successful), but the experience made me think that it would be better if I were asexual cause I now think that the whole concept of romantic relationships is absurd since I have seen so many people (including myself) suffer from it. This may come access as ignorant and please know that I have no intention of disrespecting the asexual community, but I just want to hear your perspective on this. Do you think it’s possible to change one’s sexuality and become aromantic or asexual at will (as in, does it happen because of certain experiences), or are people born that way? Again, I would like to apologize if this offends anyone. But I only asked this because the guy I loved was one of the worst human beings in the world and traumatized me beyond belief and made me question everything (as men do apparently 🥲). Thanks in advance for reading my question ☺️

Hi anon!

First off, big big hugs.

Secondly, are you me? Lol. I can't tell you the amount of times I've bemoaned my attraction to men. People who've been long time followers certainly have read a lotttttttttt of me whining about it.

While sexuality certainly is a spectrum, unfortunately, I don't think we can "turn" into something we're not. What you're feeling right now is a result of something traumatic that you went through; this is a reaction to the hurt, and this is your brain wanting to protect yourself from it ever happening to you again. And that's a perfectly valid response. But by changing yourself into something you're intrinsically not, you're not going to be any happier. Because deep inside, you'd know that this isn't your most authentic self.

What you can do, is keep yourself open to growth. Like I said, sexuality is a spectrum. A lot of us THINK we're 100% heterosexual purely because that's what we've been shown is the norm. And I simply don't think that's true. There's a lot of orientations and preferences and identities out there that we simply lack knowledge and vocabulary of, because we just haven't been taught this stuff in a conservative educational setup. I'd encourage you to do your own research and learn about what else is out there, and maybe you'll find that you're not what you've labelled yourself so far!

Another thing; just because you ARE attracted to men, doesn't mean that you have to end up with one, no other end in sight. I can give you my own example. I am attracted to men, but have decided to be single for all foreseeable future. I just don't see any value a romantic relationship would add to my life. I am financially independent (to the level a Millennial can be in the current economy hahahahaha *sob weep sniff*), I have the relationships (familial and friendships) that I foster and cherish and nurture, and focus all my energies on what's best for me. And you know what? It's a pretty good life. It's not the one I envisioned growing up (purely because I didn't know this was an option) but now that I'm living it, I can't see myself living any other way. You don't NEED to have a romantic relationship if you don't want to. It's a fun bonus, not something mandatory; that without it, you'll never find peace and happiness. All you need to be is secure in YOURSELF as a person. That comes from introspection and constantly evaluating what works best for you at the time. It's about personal growth; nothing is set in stone, you're always allowed to change your mind and pursue other things!

I hope my words made you feel a little better, and soothed your heart. I am sending you alllllllllll the healing vibes and love and light I have. 🤗✨✨✨

[asma-al-husna]

Allah calls Himself As-Samad— The Eternal, Satisfier of Needs, the Refuge and Absolute— on one occasion in the Quran. As-Samad is the unchangeable one on whom the entire creation depends. He is the one unaffected by any circumstance and the only one able to fulfil all needs in the most perfect way,  without Himself being in need of anything or anyone!

 The Eternal, Everlasting Refuge, Satisfier of All Needs

Samad comes from the root saad-meem-daal, which points  to two main meanings. The first main meaning is to reach or attain, or to aim toward something. The second main meaning is to turn to and to need, and the third is to remain unchanged and unaffected. The fourth main meaning is to be everlasting and eternal.

This root appears just once in the Quran, as the noun samad. The example is al-samadu (“The Eternal, Absolute”).

Linguistically,samad means something that is not affected by circumstances or something that is solid. Sumood refers to the concept of being firm and steadfast.

As-Samad is the the One who is not changed nor affected by anything in the creation, He is the eternal and absolute refuge to seek and depend on for all needs and desires.

As-Samad Himself says: Say, ‘He is Allah , [who is] One, Allah , the Eternal Refuge. He neither begets nor is born, nor is there to Him any equivalent.’ [Quran, 112:1-4]

A description of Allah

The only place in the Quran Allah ‘azza wa jall calls Himself As-Samad is in Surah Al-Ikhlaas; the virtuous surah mentioned in the authentic hadith in Muslim to equal one-third of the Quran.  This short, but amazingly beautiful and profound surah is a description of Allah Himself,  His Oneness, His samad’yyah and His incomparability.  Allah revealed this surah as a powerful answer to the people of Makkah who asked the Prophet salallahu ‘alayhi wa sallam to describe His Lord and His ‘lineage.’

What is ikhlaas (sincerity)? It is doing deeds purely for Him and to seek His pleasure, because He is Al-Ahad, the One and Unique. It is turning to Him for our needs and desires and desire Him only, because He is As-Samad, The Eternal and Satisfier of Needs, and it is to live by the fact that there is no one equal to Him in any of His attributes!

How can you live by this name?

1. Recite  and live by Surah al-Ikhlaas. Recite Surah Al-Ikhlaas often to gain reward, but not only that; learn to understand each word and live by the names of Allah mentioned in it. Love to recite this surah and talk about it to others as you are describing your Lord. Learn how to correctly recite it and convey it to at least one other person and teach your children the history and/or tafseer (explanation) of this virtuoussurah in which As-Samad is mentioned in order to instil love of Allah in their hearts.

2. Realize your dependence on Him.

One of the meanings of As-Samad is the One who is independent and self-sufficient. If you look at a manager, for example, one who has a high position with authority over others, it still takes one note from his superiors to end his career. This person is not samad.Then look at what we need tu survive as human beings; air, water, food, and even love. Why do we often act like as if we are independent? Especially during good times when we are healthy and wealthy we tend to forget we are even dependant on As-Samad for the strap of our shoe. So remind yourself daily that you are dependent on Him.

3. Call upon Him.

Here’s a beautiful supplication the Prophet salallahu ‘alayhi wa sallam used to make as part of the morning: “يَا حَيُّ يَا قَيُّومُ بِرَحْمَتِكَ أَسْتَغِيثُ أَصْلِحْ لِي شَأْنِي كُلَّهُ وَلَا تَكِلْنِي إِلَى نَفْسِي طَرْفَةَ عَيْنٍ”. O Ever Living One, O Eternal One, by Your mercy I call on You to set right all my affairs. Do not place me in charge of my soul even for the blinking of an eye (i.e. a moment). [Al-Haakim, saheeh] Memorize this dua’ and say it with true desire, fully realizing your dependence on As-Samad!

4. Desire As-Samad. Turn to As-Samad in good and bad times and rely on Him, resting assured He is the Eternal Refuge and the One who will satisfy your needs in the way He knows is best for you. If you truly believe in As-Samad, your strongest desire will be to meet Him and your only fear will be that of His displeasure. So strive to be a real servant of Allah. The disbeliever is a slave of his desires, or of fashion, his belly, and his money. So beg Him to decrease the love for this world in your heart, including love of being praised by people, and replace it with a firm desire for His pleasure alone.

To learn how to live by the beautiful name of Allah Al-Ahad, click here.

Wallahu ta’alaa ‘alem

O Allah, As-Samad, we know that You are the only Eternal Refuge. Make us realize we need you at all times and aid us to be of those who turn to You only for our needs.  Adorn us with a strong desire to please You alone, ameen!