#key umma

[smtown-tourist]

Key must have a new found level of respect for Jinki after having to babysit 2min for the past 6 months. You can see it written all over his face

[smtown-tourist]

Key staring down the camera like, “Don’t you dare try to take my family away from me again.”

What love looks like 💎💞💎💞💎💞 [Aside]

[sxgakookie]

Summary: Your husband, BTS’ Jung Kook, hasn’t been spending enough time at home with you or his daughter, Ji-ah. He decides to remind you both how important his girls are to him. Genre: Slight Angst (Ji-ah misses her dad), Fluff, Smut (idol!Jung Kook, dad!Jung Kook x Reader) Ratings/Warnings: Adults Only (Oral Sex [f receiving], shower sex, dirty talk, shower sex, orgasm [m+f]) Word Count: ~2.7k Author’s Note: I may make a Part 2 to follow this, if y’all like it! Just let me know if you’d like more from this little family! x

Jung Kook had never been as disappointed in himself as he was in that moment. 

A little after two in the morning, with the jingling of his keys, he opened up the locked door to find a dark living room, only lit by the large television still streaming cartoons at a low volume from above the unlit fireplace. He could see, as he kicked off his shoes next to the front door, two sleeping figures snuggled into each other on the large, sectional sofa. 

Jung Kook quietly walked over to see you, the love of his life and the mother of his daughter, sleeping uncomfortably on the couch. You looked absolutely exhausted, with your hair unbrushed and dark circles under your eyes. You were in the same pajamas he had left you in that morning, and resting in your arms, was his little girl. Ji-ah, who took after you in so many ways, was sleeping in your lap in almost the same position. Her head rested against your chest, and her small hands gripped onto the sleeves of your henley shirt. Her eyes fluttered as she was dreaming, and her small lips were parted.  

Jung Kook kneeled down next to the sofa and brushed a soft piece of hair from your face, admiring how even when completely burned out, you’re still so, incredibly beautiful. 

Your eyes fluttered under the warmth of his touch, letting out a soft hum as you leaned into his hand. 

“Honey?” You whispered. “Is that you?” 

“It’s me, baby. I’m home.” He whispered. “I’m going to take Ji-ah to her room, ok? Why don’t you go to our room and get some rest?” 

“Mm’kay.” You said, feeling the warmth of your daughter’s little body taken from your weak arms. 

Jung Kook walked down the hallway with Ji-ah snuggled into his arms. He tried to limit the harshness of his step, but his little girl had stirred awake anyways. 

“Appa?” She murmured, her tiny voice causing Jung Kook’s heart to warm. 

“Hi, princess.” He whispered. His tattooed hand ran up and down her little back, trying to coax her back to sleep. “Appa’s just taking you to your room, ok? So Umma can sleep.” 

“Umma was sleeping.” She pouted, correcting her Appa as she pressed her face into his neck. 

“I know, baby.” Jung Kook said gently. “But you need to sleep in your big girl bed by yourself tonight, ok?” 

She sighed, and Jung Kook held in a laugh. His baby definitely got her sass from her mother, but was too worn out to argue. 

When he reached her bedroom, he turned on the light to its dimmest setting, not wanting to overwhelm Ji-ah with a bright light. He walked past Barbie dolls, a play kitchen set, and a bookshelf of children’s books with a soft pink reading chair next to it. Scattered on the floor were tiny dresses from her dress up trunk; a white, wooden box that Ji-ah and Jung Kook had painted together one summer afternoon. His expertly painted butterflies and flowers sat side by side with her messy lines of purple and pink paint. 

Jung Kook settled her into her twin size bed, tucking her in and whispering an “I love you”, before kissing her hair. He turned to go to you, when her voice perked up. 

“Appa!” She wined, sitting up in her bed. 

“Yes, baby?” Jung Kook asked, crouching down to be eye level with the little girl. 

She became quiet. Ji-ah sat with a pout on her tiny lips, and she began to play with her blanket as a way to self-soothe. Jung Kook watched her face as she began to cry, tears running down her soft, squishy cheeks. 

“Why are you crying, princess?” Jung Kook asked, his heart dropping at the sight of his baby crying. 

She didn’t answer. Instead, she chose to make grabby hands towards him as she cried, shattering his heart. 

“Sweetie…” He cooed. Jung Kook somehow managed to make room for his big body in her twin bed, pulling her into his arms to comfort her. He wiped the tears from her cheek. “Shh, I’m right here. Can you tell Appa what’s wrong?” 

“Hurt.” She sniffles, wiping her own eyes with the back of her little hand. 

“Hurt?” Jung Kook asks, his brows furrowed as his protectiveness bubbled up. “Do your feelings hurt, or does your body hurt?” 

It was a question Jung Kook had heard you ask Ji-ah during one of her fits, teaching her to articulate her needs. 

“Feelings.” She murmured. 

“Can Appa know why your feelings are hurt?” Jung Kook asked gently, brushing her hair from her face soothingly. His mind went to a thousand terrible places, wanting to get rid of whatever could’ve hurt his little girl. “You know you can tell me anything, ok baby? Appa will make it better.” 

The answer, however, felt like a gut punch to Jung Kook. 

“Miss you.” She mumbled, moving in closer to the comfort of her Appa’s presence. 

Jung Kook instinctively wrapped his arms around her, as he held back his own tears. He knew he had been working way, way too much. He was increasingly coming home late, and leaving early in the morning. He had little to no time for either his daughter, or for you. It was something he felt guilty about, but he told himself that Ji-ah didn’t notice, and that he was doing good by making sure his family was provided for. 

But providing for his family meant more than just having food on the table. It meant that everyone sat together at the table. Ji-ah had noticed his empty chair after all, and now, she cried for his attention and told him her feelings were hurt. Jung Kook had never felt so angry with himself, holding her in his arms a little tighter. 

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He whispered. “Appa’s been gone a lot, haven’t I?” 

“Mhm.” She hummed, nodding her head against his chest. “Want you to play with me.” 

Jung Kook remembered playing with his daughter every day; letting her put clips in his dark hair during dress up time, color in his tattoo sleeve with a magic marker as if it were a coloring book, or doing cartoony voices as Ken to her Barbie, making Ji-ah light up the room with sweet giggles. (“That’s silly, Appa!”) 

She should never have to cry for his attention and for more play time together. Jung Kook knew that, and it made him feel painfully guilty for not prioritizing their time together. 

“Listen, baby.” Jung Kook said delicately, rubbing her back comfortingly as she quieted down from her cries. “I’ll be home more, so we can play together, ok? I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. Appa has been working very hard for you and Umma, but we’ll do lots of fun things together soon.” 

“Umma?” She sniffled, making Jung Kook coo. 

“With Umma.” He smiled warmly. “Can I tell you something, sweetie?” 

“A secret?” She whispered, with her big brown eyes sparkling as her gaze met his own. Jung Kook grinned at his little girl’s playfulness. 

“A secret.” Jung Kook confirmed. She giggled mischievously. “You and Umma, are my favorite girls in the entire world.” 

Ji-ah’s smile became wider and she kicked her little feet under the blanket. Jung Kook peppered little kisses all over he cheeks, making her break out in a fit of happy giggles. This was all he’s ever wanted; his little girl to feel safe, taken care of and happy in the security of his arms; to protect and provide for his girls. 

When Ji-ah finally settled down, Jung Kook whispered another “I love you” to her, and placed one more kiss to her dark hair. 

“Love you!” She responded, watching as Jung Kook turned off her ceiling light, flipped the switch on for her butterfly-shaped night light, and shut her door for the night. 

He walked into the now empty living room, and cleaned up a few pink sippy cups, plastic snack plates, and throw blankets that were tossed around. Jung Kook thought to how you must’ve felt during all those days when he was gone. Waking up to an empty bed, and going to bed alone, too. Cooking, cleaning, and being a mother to Ji-ah on your own for several months. 

You never complained. Never told him you felt sad, or alone, because you understood how time-intensive his work as an idol can be. But Jung Kook knew that was no reason to leave you completely alone, and although you understood and supported him, Jung Kook wanted you to know that he was there for you, too. 

He turned off the lights and went into the bedroom, where your exhausted form slept soundly. Jung Kook thought back to your appearance today; exhausted, dark circles under your eyes and pajamas that you just never had time to change out of. It broke his heart because you give so much of yourself for your daughter. 

Jung Kook went into the master bathroom attached to the bedroom to take a shower. He thought about how little time he’s spent with you, too. When was the last time he took you out on a real, proper date? When was the last time he cooked for you, something that he used to do all the time? When was the last time he took his time to really make love to you, not just a quickie during Ji-ah’s nap time or before she came home from daycare? 

He wanted to make you feel beautiful, needed and appreciated. Jung Kook stepped out of the shower, drying off his toned body with a white towel before putting on a fresh pair of boxers and pajama pants to finish his routine. He climbed into bed next to you, and pulled you in to him, holding you close in his arms. You were wearing a soft, large t-shirt that he knew to be his own. 

“I love you, baby.” He whispered, knowing you wouldn’t hear him in your sleep. “I’m so sorry I let you down.” 

The next morning, you woke up to tingling in between your legs. Your eyes were shut, but as you slowly came out of your sleep, you felt soft, wet kisses up your thighs. 

You hummed, and felt a nibble to your skin. 

“Shhh,” Jung Kook whispered, tucked under the sheets and nestled in between your thighs. “Just relax baby girl, let me take care of you.” 

“Koo…” You hummed. “I… I’m not pretty there right now, I haven’t shaved or-“ 

“You’re so beautiful.” He reassured you, continuing to kiss your skin. “So perfect and so sexy, just how you are. Relax for me, honey. Just wanna give your pretty pussy some love and attention, ok?” 

Jung Kook peppered soft kisses along your delicate folds, warming your pussy to his touch. It had been quite some time since he’s pleasured you like this, and he imagined that you were sensitive. Correctly, it seemed, because even with the slightest flick of his tongue to graze your opening, testing the waters, you whimpered. 

“Shhh, quiet, baby girl.” He whispered. “We can’t wake up Ji-ah… Wanted you for myself this morning.” 

You smiled at the warmth of his voice, and curled your toes as his tongue licked deeper and deeper into your most sensitive spots, drinking from your body. You began to grip the sheets as his tongue moved up, finding your sensitive clit and gave slow, pressured licks. 

“Oh, fuck…” You whispered, trying to contain yourself. Your hands gripped the pillows by your head. 

Jung Kook, buried under the blankets, couldn’t see you, much to his frustration. Without disconnecting his tongue to your delicate pearl, he lifted the blankets off of him, so he could watch your face as you gave into the pleasure he provided. 

He listened to your little whimpers, egging him on to continue. His own cock was hard and leaking in his pants, which he soothed only somewhat successfully by rutting into the mattress. Jung Kook wanted so badly to take you completely, but he had a plan. This morning was completely about you. 

He slid one finger into your opening, gently and lovingly working your body to take him again, watching your expression for signs of discomfort. Your pussy had always been small, needing to be stretched patiently, and Jung Kook was eager to please. Once his finger was completely in, he pulled out and pushed back in, repeating his movements with the continued roll of his wet tongue on your clit. 

“Jung Kook… fuck… please, baby…” You babbled in a quiet voice. 

Then another finger, stretching you a little more. His own length was pressing uncomfortably between his stomach and the mattress below, but Jung Kook focused his attention on you. He boldly sucked on your clit, making you cover your mouth to hold back a loud whine. 

“That’s it, baby girl.” He hummed, pressing a kiss to your sweet clit. Jung Kook curled his fingers just right, making you grip the pillows even harder somehow. “You like that, baby? Hm? You’re dripping wet. Wanna watch you cum for me.” 

“Jung Kook..” You chanted, moving a hand to find the dark locks of his hair and run your fingers through them. Jung Kook lowered himself back to your clit, finding the steady rhythm and pressure that he knew would break down the last of your walls. 

He knew he found the right combination, when your grip of his hair tightened. Jung Kook wrapped a strong arm around one of your thighs, just enough to keep you held down to the bed, so he could taste every last drop without having you squirm away from the intensity of the pleasure. Keeping you locked in place, he worked your body like breaking into a lock; the curl of his fingers, the pressure and rhythm of his tongue’s wet and gentle massage to your clit. Each movement worked together to unlock your climax, which came crashing onto the bed with shaking legs, curling toes, and pulling Jung Kook’s hair. 

He loved watching you come undone just for him. Jung Kook held your shaking legs, and slowly, steadily, brought you back down to earth. His licks became even more delicate, careful not to overstimulate you, but enough to drink you in. He slowly pulled his fingers out of the warmth of your opening, before crawling on top of your spent body. 

“Taste it?” He asked, raising his wet fingers to you. You looked at him with innocent eyes as you parted your lips, and let him slide in on your tongue. 

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He whispered, watching and feeling the way you sucked his fingers clean. 

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, and kissed your lips lovingly. His kisses moved down, from your lips to your cheeks, then your jaw, and down your neck. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He whispered. “You have no idea what you to do me, honey. So fucking beautiful.“

“Jung Kook.” You cooed and blushed, feeling him nibble and suck love marks into your neck. 

“Take a shower with me, before she wakes up.” He proposed. “I’m not ready to let you go just yet, baby.” 

The morning before Ji-ah woke up was peaceful, and deeply intimate. You couldn’t stand to not help your husband with his aching cock, letting the hot shower water steam up the bathroom to cover the lewd scene, where Jung Kook pressed your naked body into the tile wall of the large shower and sunk his length deep into your pussy. The running water gave cover to the grunts, whimpers, and the dirty but loving words that followed. With stuttered curses and deep, breathy moans against your neck, Jung Kook spilled into you. It was the first time he had been truly intimate with you in so long, and his body must’ve craved your body’s warmth, desperately releasing everything he had deep into you. 

When you exited the shower, you both got dressed in comfortable clothes just in time, as Ji-ah’s little feet could be heard tapping against the hardwood floors of the home. 

“Stay here.” He murmured, hugging you from behind in the warm bathroom, placing a kiss to you cheek. “Take your time getting ready, ok? No rush. I’ll take care of her.” 

“You sure?” You asked, as you were so used to being the first one to go to her. 

“Definitely.” He smiled, thinking back to his promise to the little girl. 

[smtown-tourist-juliette]

Juliette Chapter 40 Cover:

They were young and inexperienced. Their parenting skills were questionable; some wondered if ‘the baby can really raise a baby.’ But shining with all of the potential in the world, boy group SHINee proved themselves capable of raising a baby.Through all of the tears, stressful challenges, temper tantrums, and fierce competitions, SHINee showed us what it means to laugh and to love. Three years ago, SHINee touched the Nation’s hearts while opening up theirs, and three years ago, we watched SHINee say goodbye to their roles as parents. Until now…

Just when SHINee didn't think their plates could get anymore full, KBS's hit reality program, Hello Baby, decides that it wants to bring SHINee on for its eighth and final season. That's right, Baby! SHINee is back and ready to take on the challenge of being parents again, but is their new member, Hana, who never got the chance to be on Hello Baby the first time around, ready for what it takes to be an umma? How will this cycle of Hello Baby differ from the first? What new challenges await these six shining idols? But most importantly, what will their new baby be: a boy or a girl?

A month has passed since Key went on his blind date with Apink's Eunji. They've managed to remain friends but Key has struggled to find the courage to tell Jonghyun about what went down during that date. Don't worry - he plans to tell him someday. Well, that day turns out to be the day that Taemin and Naeun decide to visit the SHINee dorm for Chuseok and who just-so-happens to be joining them for that celebration? Eunji! And who else will be there but none other than his notoriously jealous boyfriend, Jonghyun. It's a Love Triangle that Key never imaged himself being in and he's unsure of how Jonghyun will react once he finds out that Eunji will be joining them. It shouldn't be a problem as long as Jonghyun doesn't find out about what happened on that date. He's not going to find out, right?

SHINee definitely has their hands full with a new little bundle of joy but their Comeback Season for Hello Baby won't be the only Comeback that they'll be making this fall. Apparently a full-length album wasn't enough to please SM, so it's been decided that SHINee will be releasing another album - their fifth mini-album. While filming the music video for their title song, Everybody, Hana begins to feel ill. There's an ache in her lower abdomen but those are just period cramps, right? Yet, why is there no blood? Why are these cramps making her throw up? Why has she suddenly turned feverish? Why are the cramps getting worse despite taking pain killers?

Suddenly, after doing a one-take for their music video, Hana takes a turn for the worse! The pain in her stomach is excruciating and she can't stop throwing up. An ambulance is called and rushes her to the hospital, leaving only one question left to be answered: what is wrong with Hana?!

Find out the answers to these questions and more in Chapter 40, Parenthood Round 2. Head on over to Asianfanfics to check it out!

[one-page-a-day]

27th of September 2023

I attended a guest lecture by the muslim scholar Prof. Dr. amina wadud yesterday. The topic of her lecture was "Women and Non-Binary Matter: New Pathways through Islamic Ethics, Authority and Traditions".

If you are a university student and you attend guest lectures, I don't have to tell you this. But if you find yourself thinking "hmmm.. maybe not today..." this is your sign to go! If there's a scholar from abroad speaking about a topic you're interested in, go hear them! The amount of inspiration I get from a guest lecture every single time is priceless. You WILL learn things that your university won't teach you.

amina wadud is best known as the Lady Imam. I was thrilled to hear that she would speak at my university - inspired by nearly 50 years of research and work she is considered one of the top scholars in progressive Islamic thought, often sparking controversy and discussion. More on her here: https://aminawadud.com/

Some of the key points I take away from her lecture are:

The islamic tradition in general and first and foremost the Quran are not free from ambiguity. An example for this is how it states in the Quran (97: 1-5) the Quran has been revealed in one night, lailat al-qadr, whereas the islamic tradition tells us that the Quran was revealed to the prophet over a span of 20 years.

wadud points out that ambiguities like these call for us to get involved. Only when we take a step towards the tradition, embracing ambiguity, we can reconcile with the texts. Only this way we can make out their meaning to apply them in our practices. "Reconciliation is a matter of choice."

wadud sees ambiguity not only as means to engage into a deeper exegesis of the texts, but also as a door-opener, and this was my favorite part of her lecture. She says "where something is ambiguous, there is space for compassion."

wadud pushes for an interpretation of the islamic sources that does justice to the dignity (karāma) God gave ALL people. This includes men, women and non-binary humans alike.

Many voices in the field see their views challenged. wadud says: "It's not the methods they disagree with, it's the conclusions." waduds conclusions call for a more inclusive islamic praxis, defying patriarchy and the gender binary. Any reading of a sacred text has to benefit the community. That's why it's important to ask: Who does my reading benefit? Who does it harm?

Quran exegesis (tafsīr), for a long time, has been focusing on the male experience. For wadud, it's now time for non-male experiences and voices to be included when interpreting the islamic sources. "Allah is omnipotent but doesn't oppress. Oppression or (zulm) is not only inequality but also arrogant and ungodly."

Prof. Dr. Melissa M. Wilcox, who also attended the lecture, added: "Where people are afraid, ambiguity becomes intolerable."

My thoughts: this might just be the biggest test for the muslim community (umma) today. As it says in the Quran: "Do people think once they say, 'we believe', that they will be left without being put to the test?" (29:2) A compassionate and inclusive reading of sacred texts is called for. And the second step is the most crucial: putting the findings into action to fight oppression and to reduce harm to the community.

If this interests you, you might also want to read: Scott Siraj al-Haqq Kugle, Asma Barlas

[azharniaz]

The Power of Unity in Islam: Experiencing Brotherhood and Umma | Facts about the Muslims & the Religion of Islam

In a world often divided, Islam offers a powerful vision of unity. This unity isn’t based on culture, nationality, or common interests. Instead, it’s rooted in faith itself. At the heart of this Islamic unity are two key concepts: brotherhood (ukhuwah) and umma. Brotherhood in Islam goes beyond mere friendship. It’s a spiritual bond that makes fellow Muslims feel like family, regardless of their…

[hojungwrites]

Where I Learn to Deal with Failure (or I just copy and paste choice parts of a really nice email from a former professor)

Originally featured on Korean American Story.

Beginning each morning by writing a to-do list, I feel immense satisfaction whenever I cross things off. It signals that I finished this, that I made something of my day. This compulsion for constant productivity, I am sure it stems from the way I was raised. Famously coined by legal scholar and writer Amy Chua, the term “tiger mom” refers to a parental figure with an incredibly authoritative child-rearing style—in other words, my parents. Like many other Korean parents, my mother and father were tiger parents for sure. Never accepting anything less than the best (my best was not enough, for I had to be the best out of everyone else as well), I strived to live up to their expectations.

I hold a memory from my early childhood, perhaps in the first or second grade, sitting around in a semicircle with the other school children. Having just read us a story, the teacher scribbled some questions onto the whiteboard with her thick black Expo marker. My mother happened to be in the classroom that day, along with the other parents. Her presence made my hands quite clammy, and each breath I took was so frustratingly unrefreshing. While the other kids excitedly raised their hands to answer our teacher’s questions, I sat idly by.

Under my mother’s watchful eye, I imagined the possible scenarios that could play out. If I answered a question correctly, I could earn a smile perhaps. But I also imagined what could happen if I said the wrong thing, and my mouth remained shut. I kept waiting for a question I could comfortably answer. I’ll just wait for the next one. No, not this one. The next. The one after this. The thing is, for every single question, I correctly predicted the answer before the teacher chimed in. My silence wasn’t a result of ignorance; I just hadn’t trusted in myself enough to speak up.

At the end of the school day, my mother and I walked to the car. As I watched her slim fingers turn the key in the ignition, a thick silence grew between us. Looking straight ahead, barely audible over the rumbling of the engine, my mother asked me, “Why didn’t you answer any of the questions?” But umma, I knew all the right answers, I wanted to say. Yet I was rendered mute by stinging nerves, and once again, I said nothing at all.

According to the Implicit Theory of Intelligence (Dweck & Leggett 1988), people hold one of two mindsets—growth or fixed. Following this theory, those with a growth mindset believe their intelligence can grow over time, while those with a fixed mindset believe there is a natural limit to their abilities. What I find interesting is this theory’s implications on failure. Seeing it as an opportunity to grow, those with growth mindsets react positively to failure. In comparison, people with fixed mindsets will apparently fall into the depths of despair.

To shape a growth mindset in a child, the theory stresses the importance of praising effort and not the outcome. For me, growing up in a Korean household, the outcome was all that mattered. In that classroom, in front of the whiteboard, in front of my teacher, and especially in front of my mother—what did it matter if I knew the correct answers if other people had no idea I knew them?

Fortunately, or perhaps, unfortunately, out of sheer willpower (or spite) I did meet these expectations for the majority of my childhood and teenage years. Several afternoons and evenings of my life were devoted to after-school tutoring sessions to ensure I would perform slightly better than my peers. I felt compelled to attend a high school I was not zoned for, with a bus stop at 5:15 am, to participate in their “academically rigorous” International Baccalaureate program (which is complete bull, by the way. If any high schoolers are reading this, just take AP.) I even joined the mathletes, although anything above basic algebra easily brings me to tears. I wanted all these special certificates, diplomas, and various badges of honor to my name to prove that my efforts meant something.

My tiger parents taught me that when successful, I could reap intense satisfaction. Because they reacted so well to my achievements, I ended up placing so much of my self-worth in academic validation. However, my parents skipped the lessons on how to deal with failure. Instead of an opportunity to grow, a failure was simply a failure, nothing more. It was something to brush aside and hide away, in the hopes that a greater accomplishment could mask it. As a result, achieving something felt really, really good. But failure led to equally high, possibly higher, levels of distress.

Because I based my entire identity on being the “smart one,” I had no idea what to do with myself when this label was seemingly taken away from me. Since the end of my school career, I have failed many, many times over. I failed to get a high-paying job at a consulting firm like many of my friends, I failed to get into graduate school my first time applying, and I failed to reach any of the milestones I arbitrarily decided were necessary to feel like an actual adult. Truthfully, I felt—still feel—incredibly behind. My younger self imagined I would have accomplished much more by my mid-twenties. I think I am very good at giving the appearance of being okay, but in reality, I am frantically flailing underneath the water’s calm surface.

I think the toughest lesson life taught me is that putting your best effort into something will not guarantee success. X does not ensure Y, because there are a million factors Z completely out of my control. This lesson highlights the problem with tying up self-worth in something external because I had no idea what to do once this external validation disappeared. As a postgraduate, to squeeze a few years into one short sentence—I was rather nihilistic for a while. I became so tired of trying anything at all because I was so tired of failing.

I love being Korean American. Sincerely, I do. Nonetheless, as I psychoanalyze myself, I am made increasingly aware of how certain aspects of my cultural background have, perhaps, in terms of mental health, screwed me over. It is so easy to be a victim, stay a victim, and relish in feeling bad for myself. But then what?

Not trusting myself to find the answer to my question, I reached out to many others to figure out what to do next. There was one message in particular that stuck out to me. According to my old statistics professor, Dan Player, “It’s an endless treadmill [to chase after success]. It’s really remarkable to talk to people who have achieved amazing things. Some of them are still chasing the proof that they’re successful because no matter what they do, someone else has done something better… I’m telling you, you can’t win at that “proving yourself” game.”

To “succeed” in life, I have to let go of this notion of success entirely. I have to let go of this obsession to prove to other people that I have value. I am learning and growing and (hopefully) becoming a better person, and it does not matter if other people cannot see it. All that matters is that I see it. As Dan says, I am Hojung, a “filmmaker/artist/author/scholar/general fascinating human being,” and I am fine just the way I already am.

My life has been full of so many disappointments, yes, but it is also a record full of acts of kindness, moments of grace, and dreams for myself. It is full of warm kisses, hugs full of longing, the laughter of friends, and eyes that met to share a brief moment of connection. This is my life, a life that is worth living simply because it is mine. My self-worth is something I give to myself, so it cannot be taken away, even if I never achieve something momentous or do not leave behind a huge impact on this earth once my time has passed. It is enough that for a moment, I was here. I existed. This is my Korean American story.

Extra Reading: (1) Chua, A. (2011). Battle Hymn of the tiger mother. Penguin Books. (2) Dweck, S. C., & Leggett, E. L. (1988). A social-cognitive approach to motivation and personality. Psychological Review, 95, 256–273

[thegenealogy]

1 Chronicles 6: 66-71. "Aijalon, the Master Key."

66 Some of the Kohathite clans were given as their territory towns from the tribe of Ephraim.

67 In the hill country of Ephraim they were given Shechem (a city of refuge), and Gezer,[k] 68 Jokmeam, Beth Horon, 69 Aijalon and Gath Rimmon, together with their pasturelands.

Ephraim= Prosperity

Shechem=Having a sense of responsibility

שכם

The important noun שכם (shekem) means shoulder, and one's shoulder was considered the seat of one's burdens, whether physical or metaphorical. Curiously, though, the denominative verb that came from this noun, namely שכם (shakam), does not mean "to shoulder" in the sense of to carry something, but rather to rise early or to make an early start. This seems to suggest that a person's burden was considered a thing of voluntary dedication rather than something forced upon this person.

Gezer=

יצר

Verb יצר (yasar) means to fashion or form and relates to צור (sur IV). Noun יצר (yeser) denotes that what is formed, and noun יצרים (yesurim) means forms or members.

Jokmeam=

עמם

The verb עמם ('mm) probably expressed to be inclusive or comprehensive. Its rare uses in the Bible relate to making secrets or making info available to an in-crowd. Preposition עם ('im) means 'with', מעם (me'im) means 'from', and עמה ('umma) means 'beside'. Noun עם ('am) means a people, ranging from all of mankind to the in-crowd of a small village. Noun עם ('am) refers to one's (paternal) kinsman.

Beh Horon= House of Freedom

Aijalon= the Leader

Gath Rommon=Pomegranate Press, Winepress Of Elevation= Aaron's Rod.

Aijalon, the "Tallest Oak" or the "Protroding Leader" has a Gematria that says "9 is the Master Key" and the calculator says to "add 58."

958= "Through the passage of time, I press the wine and stay strong. This is the Master Key."

70 And from half the tribe of Manasseh the Israelites gave Aner and Bileam, together with their pasturelands, to the rest of the Kohathite clans.

Aner=

ανδρος

The familiar noun ανδρος (andros) is a genitive (indicating possession or some other "of" relation) of the word ανηρ (aner), meaning man or husband. Derivations of ανηρ (aner) that use this genitive are:

The masculine noun ανδραποδιστης (andrapodistes), meaning a man-stealer; a person who abducts men in order to make them slaves (1 TIMOTHY 1:10 only).

The verb ανδριζω (andrizo), meaning to behave manly, that is maturely or courageously

Bileam=to absorb.

71 The Gershonites received the following: From the clan of the half-tribe of Manasseh they received Golan in Bashan and also Ashtaroth, together with their pasturelands;

Golan in Bashan= The Region Beyond Desire. Bashan= God wants to be all that we covet.

Ashtaroth= Unity of Instructions, One Law, Under One Husband.

ανδρος

The familiar noun ανδρος (andros) is a genitive (indicating possession or some other "of" relation) of the word ανηρ (aner), meaning man or husband. Derivations of ανηρ (aner) that use this genitive are:

The masculine noun ανδραποδιστης (andrapodistes), meaning a man-stealer; a person who abducts men in order to make them slaves (1 TIMOTHY 1:10 only).

The verb ανδριζω (andrizo), meaning to behave manly, that is maturely or courageously

"To absorb the people together kidnap the most masculine man and make him a slave."

Thus concludes the Torah Tantra of the Master Key.

[ummaio]

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[taephoric]

AND SM DOES IT AGAIN...

Why is it that whenever SHINee members do anything, there's little to no good promotion or thoughts regarding them? First SM pushes back Taemin's reality show on the actual RELEASE day. Hen they pushed his comeback to mid-August. And NOW they pushed his comeback to the back again to make room for NCT. And direct after his concert he has to go on tour with SHINee in Japan. When do you want him to promote SM?!!!?!? Three days before the concert that goes hand in hand with the album? Everytime I think SM sees what amazing performers they have in Taemin and SHINee, they pull shit like this. Taemin is an amazing performer, one who doesn't deserve to keep apologising to his fans because of his management companies' negligence when it comes to him and his group. SHINee memebers deserve the world. They aren't known as CDNee for nothing! So many idols, including EXO and others, have said that SHINee are the best live performers and honestly living and breathing art to see live. When will SM realize what they have in SHINee? I am honestly so tired of the disrespect. Aprecciate Taemin and his hyungs before you lose them!!

[mingyusneeze]

K-Mothers' meeting

Victoria: Three children is so much work Key: Have you tried raising four? Suho: What do you know about life, really Jeonghan: *laughs maniacally from the corner*

[1eos]

also another controversial take: ppl say Key's the mom bc he's the "feminine" one and performs more traditional "mom" roles in the shinee group narrative (nagging, cooking, getting shit done, ect.). Just like they call Jinki a dad bc he fills traditional "dad" roles (horsing around, bad jokes, alcholism), and has more "masculine" energy 👀👀👀

that’s LITERALLY it even tho half of shinee were lying per sm’s orders when they debuted so while jongho were playing the masc bad boys in reality theyre actually very feminine personality nd demeanor wise. nd jinki isnt more masculine he’s literally just the only member of shinee that gives any kind of top vibes so they had to make him the token masc one. nd tbh i feel like minho is the team mom bc the way he’s always the one ppl (not kibum) go to when they cry nd all the members esp jjong have talked abt that 

[jinkisbelly]

Rest 2.0

Alright, the 23rd of October is my 5th shinee writer anniversary and I rewrote my first shinee fanfiction, Rest. If you want to read the horrid, 2010 stereotype filled story, [x] and aff  I hope you find it at least better than the original ^-^  new version link on aff

Pairing: Onho

Rating: pg, bandverse

w/c: 1.2k

Summary: Minho helps Jinki with his headache on the set of the Everybody music video. 

He closed his eyes lightly in case of the heavy makeup around his lashes smeared somehow. His right eye itched, but he fought the urge to rub his eyes. His head was pounding. Whether it was from his lack of sleep, lack of food, or the bright lights and noises around him, he wasn’t sure. The group had been going since way before sunrise to prepare for their upcoming comeback. The music video proved to be a long and tiring experience. Why he thought it would be any different, again, he wasn’t sure. Jonghyun was recording his individual shots, Kibum having already finished a few moments ago. He was last after Taemin had finished his. His head lolled a little bit, but he caught it with his hand as he leaned on the arm of the chair with his elbow.

A soft caress touched his hair, fingers moving through the gelled back strands with some difficulty. “Jinki, are you okay?”

Without opening his eyes, he knew who it was. “Better than you when the stylists figure out it was you who messed my hair up.”

Minho pushed his nose against the back of his neck, breath warm and almost soothing as he whispered. “Babe.”

“I’m fine, Ming.” He tried not to focus too much on the pounding in his head when he opened his eyes. “Just a little tired is all. Nothing new.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Mmm, figured you wouldn’t. You have some 6th ‘a member is hurting’ sense.”

“Hey, don’t pick on me when I’m worried about you.” He could almost hear the pout in the man’s voice.

He turned his head when he felt Minho move, smiling softly as the man plays with the fabric of his clothes. “What would you have me do then? I’m waiting for my turn.”

“Come rest a while with me in the dressing room.” He flashed a small, unsure smile, big eyes pleading his case thoroughly. “We can turn off the lights. Just until your turn.”

He glanced over at the set, noticing that they were still setting up for Jonghyun it seemed, before nodding and offering his hand for Minho to take. “Lead the way.”

Soon they found the dressing room. It was empty of people they quickly noticed and Minho led Jinki to the couch up against the wall. Minho took off his outer jacket, laying it over one of the styling chairs, before sitting on one end of the couch. When Jinki sat on the other end Minho was quick to tug him down until his head was resting against his thigh.

He ran a hand softly against Jinki’s hair. “Babe, you need to stop pushing yourself so much.”

Jinki gave him a weak smile. “I know, but we’re used to this Baby.”

Minho frowned slightly, moving to run his fingers down Jinki’s jaw before gently curling their fingers together on Jinki’s stomach. The lights had been turned off when they walked in. “Close your eyes, Sweets. I’ll text Kibum to tell us when Taemin’s done.”

“Mm,” Jinki hummed quietly, enjoying the way Minho’s thumb was moving over the back of his hand. His voice was so soft as he said, “Thanks, Baby.”

                                             XOXOX

“Have you seen Jinki?” Their manager quietly asked the youngest member.

“Last time I saw him he was sitting over there.” Taemin vaguely gestured toward the area he meant.

The man sighed deeply. “You’re the best of help as always, Taemin.”

“You’re welcome.”

A few moments later Kibum was standing behind him, asking, “What did he want?”

“Wanted to know where Jinki Hyung was.” Taemin hummed, flicking the game on his phone screen. “Told him he was over in that general area.”

Kibum rolled his eyes. “Minho took him into the dressing room to rest until it was his turn.”

“Oh,” Taemin locked his phone before asking, “Is he okay?”

“Just tired.” Kibum then gestured toward the set where Jonghyun was stepping down from. “You’re up.”

Taemin fluffed up his fur coat and grinned. “Time to get sexy.”

Kibum groaned.

                                                       XOXOX        

Half an hour later Minho heard a quiet knock on the dressing room door. He gently pushed the older man’s blond hair back as the door opened and Kibum slipped in. The light was flicked on then and Minho squinted as pain erupted behind his eyes. “Warning next time would be great.”

“The knock was the warning.”

“Oh, piss off.”

Kibum grinned widely before softening seeing Jinki sleeping against Minho’s thigh. “Taemin is about done. It’s Jinki’s turn.”

“Alright, we’ll be out shortly.” Minho smiled, “Thanks.”

“Anything for Jinki.”

Minho glared at him, causing Kibum to laugh as he left the dressing room. Next, Jinki’s cheek was softly tapped. “Come on, sleepy head. It’s time.”

In response, Jinki nuzzled his cheek into Minho’s thigh, groaning softly. When Minho jiggled his leg Jinki rolled onto his back, squinting up at him. He cutely mumbled. “How dare you.”

“Work calls, Sweets.”

Jinki pouted before heaving himself up. He smacked his mouth a few times, looking around as if in a daze. “That was a good nap. I like that nap.”

“I make a good pillow, huh?”

“The best.” Jinki stood and walked toward the mirror, trying to fix his hair at least a little bit. His eye makeup was still okay and haven't smeared too much. He turned with a bright smile. “Let’s get going before they come looking for me.”

                                                        XOXOX

Jinki fumbled through his playlist, looking for a song that spoke to him, and when he found one, he laid back, closed his eyes and hummed along to the song. Unannounced to him, Minho was standing in the doorway, gazing at him. Minho noticed how the older man had one of his shirts on, and he smiled as he watched Jinki's foot tap to the beat. He quietly moved to his side of the room they shared, after he closed the door, and lifted his shirt off. He softly nudged the corner of Jinki’s bed with his knee as he ran his fingers through his hair. The older man jumped up, before calming down at the sight of his boyfriend. He pulled his headphones from his ears as an easy smile spread on his lips. “Hey.”

“It’s been a very long day.”

“Then actually come to bed.” Jinki hummed happily when Minho kissed him. He pulled away as the kiss deepened, smirking slightly. “I’m going to bed.”

Minho pressed a kiss to his forehead before climbing over him to his side of the bed, wiggling to get under the covers. He was adjusting his pillow when Jinki pressed a kiss to his cheek. He chuckled lightly when Jinki plopped down on his pillow, connecting his phone to the charger and getting comfortable. Quickly, Minho slipped completely under the blanket and tugged Jinki back against him, nose against his neck. “Goodnight.”

Jinki intertwined their fingers on his stomach, smiling as he closed his eyes. “Goodnight Baby.”

[smtown-tourist]

Love how Key has been sitting back, letting the babies of the Kpop industry have their fun, and is now ready to slaughter them all with his raw talents.

Go off King!!! Give them no mercy!!! Show them that you and SHINee are not to be underestimated!!!

If Key doesn’t win solo artist of the year, Imma call bullshit on that and demand a recount

“This time around I thought I would regret it if I didn’t do what I wanted. Recently, I’ve been on a lot of variety shows and haven’t done much musically. I want to let people know that I’m powerful and have a strong conceptual side. Like I’m the ‘essential key.’ ”

–Kim Kibum, Vogue Korea (Oct 2021) • Source: soompi)

[shinee525subs]

Boom’s Young Street (131017) - Key Umma is a concept

Cr: integralminkey

[its-toasted]

PARK CLOSES AT SUNDOWN (2018)

My baby baked me rose-gold all over this summer. Thank god

cause I got a degree and no job, no prospects and somehow

the world looks bigger from here. It’s September now, I am flat

on my back as the canvas for once, the juice drips from our mouths

sticky-sweet. My piano teacher wipes my chin, I got her keys

deep in my pocket and she sings the low harmony all the time,

I really like it. Umma used to make every tutor a fresh fruit basket

for each lesson, as if the flavor might taste better than the work

it takes to breach my insecurities. It feels so damn desperate like

please stay, we are a good home, I promise my son will see you

twice next week, I’m sorry he’s really missing someone right now.

Four summers later and I might be my mother cause I spent

all morning getting myself right. A long shower, a stop at the market,

washing strawberries and cutting soft honeydew into thin canoes

for a picnic that goes until dark. I just want to treat you so fine like

please stay, I can be a good home, I promise my sun will come back

tomorrow. Today I’m a mouthful on a shell and floating elsewhere.