#I willingly subject myself to these relationships because I need to feel valued

[houseswife]

I’m not even kidding when I say that James Wilson as a a character has done more for my introspection and growth as a person than therapy ever did. I spent my whole life wondering why I, as an otherwise entirely well-adjusted and straight-laced person on the surface, exclusively surrounds myself with addicts and unstable people (affectionate). Why I used to skip class in high school to stop my friends from overdosing, or hurting themselves, begging them to be institutionalised. Why I used to give my pills away to classmates who swore they’d kill themselves if I stopped. I could’ve pulled away - I could’ve made friends with rich kids with happy lives who won’t ask me to drive them to the psych ward at 12PM on a Tuesday. My mom always said I’m a people pleaser and a doormat and it’s why I end up in parking lots at 3AM doing drug deals on other people’s behalves and loaning tons of money to people who’d never pay me back. But it’s not that I’m a nice person! It feeds me as much as it feeds them! It’s an internal validation issue manifested through a seeming lack of personal conviction! Now I get it, and it’s so satisfying to see this sort of personality being portrayed as a pathology rather than something to pity or idolise. Yes there’s something wrong with me but it’s not that I’m too generous; excessive enabling is just as selfish as exploitative behaviour itself. Somehow it took a medical procedural for me to realise that, but-

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

Clover's personality/mbti pt.2

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU CAN (THIS AND MY PREVIOUS TWO BLOGS ABOUT CLOVER'S PERSONALITY), I WOULD LOVE MORE PEOPLE TO SEE MY UTY MBTI SERIES (TYSM)

When I said Clover has a more of a subjective than an objective train of thought, I also meant this: stealing money and stealing food is not OK in general but it is OK to them. They sure listen to themselves ↓

They have more of a creative than a mechanical mind (but in order to deal with a lot of the situations they were in, they had to use their head to survive), look at these ↓

they literally linked this situation with a saying (this is so something an intuitive like myself would do)

Clover's thinking function was more prominent in the vengeance route; their thinking is activated to the maximum here instead of empathy, but it's still subjective since they still have that Fi paired up with Te (see my last post). The sad thing about genocide is how Clover loses absolutely everything that made them who they are in pacifist:

empathy gone

warmth gone (even Flowey feels their heart growing colder)

naivety gone

creativity gone

humor gone

Clover has always been kind, so I don't think their auxiliary is Fe. That isn't what needs to develop, or the weakest part about their way of thinking, the one that will shape them into who they were always meant to be.

Because they only felt kindness towards their own race, that's the problem. Clover was judgmental and thought they were doing the right thing, completely disregarding the monsters' side of the situation. Vengenace Clover is the other side of pacifist Clover's coin. This is what I mean ↓

this type of capable of so much kindness but at the same time, if unhealthy, the effect is the complete opposite

That means the Clover in genocide IS the same Clover, but who made difference subjective choices. Whose justice for the children they didn't even know (they, once again, subjectively decided that the children had been innocent, as Martlet pointed out too) was so strong that they refused to see the truth: how both species struggled in this war.

we can see Clover is still "idealistic" but tunnel visioned

"Normal" Clover is open minded, non judgemental and accepting of differences. They can put themselves in others shoes, but in genocide they're the opposite because they gave in to their "dark side" The reason I said they're the same Clover, is that, when I looked at the mbti people gave them, I saw this ↓

I knew right away it can't be right that the same character is a different type when they're at their best and worst. It had to mean that they're neither of the two types people thought

Clover had been introduced to a lot of different problems they had to constantly deal with and get out of the "comfort zone" that are the Ruins. Toriel undoubtedly told them about the kids, and then Clover decided to stay safe rather than jump into adventure. That's what got me thinking: "Their reason for being here has to do with morality: it is Clover who thinks how it's not right for no one to go look for the children." It's more their own values of what's right, than their own truth. They follow the heart more than the head (although the Te becomes developed as the adventure unfolds and they are faced with difficulties), even in geno (see the previous two posts for more about this point)

To learn to solve real world problems using logic, to step up and take charge, "defuse situations" and "mend relationships" by using both thinking and feeling, to become a leader and a hero, that's Clover's end goal.

Look at Clover from their first run (being protected all their life) and Clover from their 100th+ (faces challenges bravely and willingly dies a hero)

↓

↓

↓

From a scared kid to a deputy to a sheriff to a hero.

[utilitycaster]

This is going to be long and also not terribly well-edited or organized as I want to post it now but also want to watch The Unsleeping City in 45 minutes. Anyway welcome to why I have really loved Caduceus in the post-hiatus times especially, and particularly in Eiselcross, and how I think missing the mark with Caleb is a brilliant choice, and some thoughts about religion in D&D. Obviously everything I say is subjective and a reading of the text so to speak but the religion part will dip into my own projections so like...especially subjective.

Caduceus has, from the start, always been a unique and necessary perspective within the Mighty Nein, and he’s a voice that’s both desperately needed within the group while having many of his own limitations.

I’ve always shied away from the therapist interpretation. I think that’s to an extent how Caduceus sees himself at times - in fact, I think part of his current arc is that he’s starting to move away from that idea of himself - but the fact is he’s not actually in that role. No one really is and that’s a good thing; found family slash sort of coworkers is a good place to find a confidant, but for a capital-T Therapist you need someone outside that circle.

I’ve mentioned in passing a few times that while I get why some people, and especially ex-Catholics, find a lot of resonance with Essek, my own experience with religion maps incredibly well onto Caduceus. I grew up Jewish and moderately religious, and went to a Jewish school until high school and having most of my social circle within that community. And as most religious minorities can attest, there is a sense of one’s religion being tied up with familial duty or responsibility and dueling pressures to and to not assimilate. I still find a lot of meaning in some religious practices and still practice many of them, but I’ve definitely changed a lot of those practices due to my experiences in high school and especially college, sometimes for good reasons (ie, “this is not in line with the values I’m finding within myself as I gain experience in the world and engage with new perspectives”) and sometimes for more neutral/selfish ones (ie, “I don’t want to go to services on Friday night, I want to go out drinking with my friends.”) Caduceus is a cleric and has a personal relationship with his deity and I don’t think it’s at all in his nature to abandon that, but I think it is a relationship that is changing, and I can say from personal experience that’s even if it’s for the better, even if it’s an evolution rather than a rejection, changing traditions you were raised in because of the outside world is not easy. Anyway, I see a lot of my college self in Caduceus and what he’s going through now, and it is a very quiet and internal struggle but still an important and difficult one.

More generally, while Caduceus is young for a firbolg, he’s still got 80-100 years of experience with the life he once led and probably thought he’d lead for his entire life. His family ventured out, but as far as I can tell, always in the direct service of the Wildmother. Caduceus fulfilled that when he rescued his family. It’s no surprise that he’s felt a little adrift since then. Indeed I think he felt a little uncertain at various other points too - certainly when the party stole a boat in Nicodranas, and he indicated at various other times that he’d had doubts - and that has got to mess with the fact that he had those doubts even while he was on a mission for his family, given to him by his goddess. He apologized to his parents for wanting to continue adventuring, even though they were fully supportive of his decisions.

I’ve already talked about Caduceus changing in Eiselcross especially - finding other things out in the world that were perhaps not directly given to him by the Wildmother but which still could use his help, and changing some of his approaches as a cleric. He admitted to Lucien that he’s not sure what he’s supposed to be doing at this time, and again, that’s a really hard place to be, especially for someone like Caduceus. I am really excited to see how his experiences in Eiselcross and beyond change him.

Back to the limited perspective and his words to Caleb: one thing Caduceus has always excelled at is a sort of...kind disregard for politics. I think some of it is just not having the inclination or taste for mind games, which tend to require both a certain intricacy and a good amount of deception, neither of which Caduceus is good at nor likes. This has often served the party well - Caduceus was the one who got them to involve the Dynasty when the Laughing Hand got out, and he might be the one who is willing to pull in Essek despite others’ doubts. But there is a benefit to politics; there’s telling someone only what they want to hear, which can often be bad, but there is an element of telling people what they should hear in a way in which it will be received, and I don’t know if he’s mastered that either. An unique perspective is valuable, but it’s still only one perspective.

I suspect Caduceus’s feelings towards Caleb are more complex than “turn that frown upside down” (and in general what people say on Talks is going to be ooc, in modern and fairly casual terms, etc) but I also think he may be approaching Caleb from a grief counselor perspective, when trauma is a much different thing, and he may be ascribing intent where, as was said on Talks, this is just there in Caleb whether or not he wants it. And I think this is a great character choice from Taliesin (I really do hope he’s on Talks in two weeks)! Why would a cleric of mourning and how death affects the living have an extensive knowledge of Caleb’s experiences? He wouldn’t! I should note I think Caduceus’s advice has often been very good - towards Fjord as Fjord was reaching out to the Wildmother, and to Beau and Veth in the conversation after the hag encounter especially - and those were conversations about things like religious faith and familial relationships and one’s place on the world, which are things Caduceus has experience with or is going through himself.

I feel like I’ve called characters foils a whole lot now and I don’t think it even fits entirely here, but it is fascinating to contrast Caleb and Caduceus, one of whom has drastically changed his path multiple times, willingly and unwillingly, and one of whom is in the midst of great and unclear change. I think they have more in common than they necessarily believe, and I absolutely think Caduceus’s intentions have always been good, just lacking in some understanding (which I also think Veth and Beau have at times gotten wrong too, in different ways). But Caleb is someone who has understandable difficulty talking about his past, and Caduceus is someone who doesn’t always quite realize if he’s off the mark, and I don’t know if they will resolve this, because neither is in the wrong.

One of my favorite things about both campaigns of Critical Role but especially this one is how interestingly and believably characters misunderstand each other. It was one of my favorite things about the twins in Campaign 1, and it’s been a throughline among many different characters in Campaign 2. Like, if I say I think a PC is misunderstanding someone else, there is an unspoken “and I think that’s fascinating and I want to know what happens next”, and the fact that he’s only just realizing how much he’s changed and how much he might change and expand his horizons is one of my favorite things about Caduceus.

[redeemedrevolver]

BOCW Characters and their MBTIs

Summary:

The characters of BOCW take the MBTI Personality Test and find out their personality types. They were a bit shocked. Some can't believe it while others believe it fully.

A/N:

The link to the MBTI test is above if you still don't know your personality type and want to find out. It's a long test, but worth answering. More information about the personality will be in the parenthesis beside the character.

It was a bit hard taking the test because I had to picture myself as them answering it in their character.

These aren't exactly their MBTIs, but this is a depiction based on their overall character from the events in the games (Black Ops Series)

I hope I did my best!

Russell Adler (INTJ-A — "Architect")

Information about the personality type:

These thoughtful tacticians love perfecting the details of life, applying creativity and rationality to everything they do. Their inner world is often a private, complex one.

comprises 2.1% of the total world population (rare personality type)

highly analytical, creative, and logical

introverted and prefer to work alone

greater emphasis on logic and objective information rather than subjective emotions

like their world to feel controlled and ordered

Strengths:

self-confident and hard-working - believe in Bell most of the time

takes criticism well

most independent

rational

good at listening - evident with the number of dialogue options you have

Weaknesses:

lack of empathy - apparent when reading the paper regarding Bell's brainwashing and his persistence

romantic relationships are their Achilles heel - it doesn't mean they don't feel, but they don't want to express it to anyone

sometimes callous or insensitive

highly analytical towards everything

perfectionistic

—————

Alex Mason (ISTJ-T — "Logistician")

Information about the personality type:

These people tend to be reserved yet willful, with a rational outlook on life. They compose their actions carefully and carry them out with methodical purpose.

male ISTJs comprises 16% of the total world population (common personality type)

enjoy taking responsibility for their actions

take pride in the work they do

reserved, practical, and quiet

value loyalty in themselves and others

Strengths:

detail-oriented

observant - can be applied to his "excellent sniper" trait

orderly and organized

calm and practical

jacks-of-all-trades

Weaknesses:

stubborn - shown in the interrogation scene in BO1 for a few moments

tends to blame others

judgemental

insensitive

works always by the book - reluctant to bend or change the rules

—————

Frank Woods (ESTP-A — "Entrepreneur")

Information about the personality type:

They tend to be energetic and action-oriented, deftly navigating whatever is in front of them. They love uncovering life’s opportunities, whether socializing with others or in more personal pursuits.

comprises 4-10% of the total world population (fairly common personality type)

live in the moment and dive into the action

unique skill in noticing small changes - shift in facial expression, new clothing style, or broken habit

full of passion and energy complemented with a rational mind

prefer the practical over the abstract

Strengths:

gregarious, funny, and energetic - shown in CW

adaptable and resourceful

rational and practical - apparent in BO1 for his overall character

makes decisions based on logic and reason

sociable

Weaknesses:

risk-prone - most likely the person one will be paired to operations where things can go wrong quickly

defiant

easily bored

impulsive - true to his personality

too competitive

—————

Jason Hudson (ENTJ-A — "Commander")

Information about the personality type:

They are decisive people who love momentum and accomplishment. They gather information to construct their creative visions but rarely hesitate for long before acting on them.

comprises 1.8% of the total world population (2nd rarest personality type)

gifted with charisma and confidence

quick to see inefficiency and conceptualize new solutions to them

love a big or small challenge and overcoming them

dominant at the negotiating table

Strengths:

strong leadership skills - the overseer in BOCW

well-organized

good decision maker

assertive and outspoken

strategic thinkers

Weaknesses:

stubborn and dominant - shown in the scene where he talks to Bell about Lubyanka

impatient

intolerant

cold and ruthless - true to his nickname "Ice Cube"

poor handling of emotions

—————

Helen Park (INFJ-T — "Advocate")

Information about the personality type:

They tend to approach life with deep thoughtfulness and imagination. Their inner vision, personal values, and a quiet, principled version of humanism guide them in all things.

female INFJs comprises 1.6% of the total world population (rarest personality type)

thinks about deep topics and contemplates the meaning of life

has a deep sense of idealism and integrity, but aren’t idle dreamers

speak with great passion and conviction

soft-spoken and understated

Strengths:

sensitive to the needs of others

insightful

altruistic - use their strengths for the greater good

passionate - eagerness to capture Volkov in E. Berlin

creative

Weaknesses:

sensitive to criticism - may be shown after joking about her scar

reluctant to open up - shown with the scar scene with Lazar

prone to burnouts

dislikes confrontation

stubborn

—————

Eleazar "Lazar" Azoulay (ENFP-A — "Campaigner")

Information about the personality type:

These people tend to embrace big ideas and actions that reflect their sense of hope and goodwill toward others. Their vibrant energy can flow in many directions.

comprises 8.1% of the total world population (common personality type)

reads between the lines with curiosity and energy

see life as a big, complex puzzle where everything is connected through emotion

do best in situations where they have the freedom to be creative and innovative

spend a lot of time exploring social relationships

Strengths:

empathetic and caring - apparent and true in the Duga ending and after being saved in Cuba

fun and spontaneous - evident when talking to him and Sims

warm and enthusiastic

curious

observant - can be applied after the Cuba briefing about the LMG he and Sims are talking about

Weaknesses:

can be overly emotional

tends to get stressed out easily - can be apparent when being loud in E. Berlin and talking about Lubyanka

struggles to follow rules

disorganized

poor practical skills

—————

Lawrence Sims (ESFJ-A — "Consul")

Information about the personality type:

They are attentive and people-focused, and they enjoy taking part in their social community. Their achievements are guided by decisive values, and they willingly offer guidance to others.

comprises 12.3% of the total world population (common personality type)

continue to enjoy supporting their friends and loved ones

gain energy from interacting with other people

encourages other people to be their best

have a hard time believing anything bad about the people to whom they are close

Strengths:

practical and dependable - true to his character being in charge of logistics; you can trust him with anything related to gear requests

organized - can be seen writing in a ledger and making phone calls to everyone about the lists of equipment needed for an operation

sensitive and warm

conscientious

very loyal

Weaknesses:

sensitive to criticism - can be triggered in certain dialogues about Vietnam

too selfless and doesn't look after themselves

dislike change

approval-seeking

controlling

—————

Perseus (ENFJ-A — "Protagonist")

Information about the personality type:

These warm, forthright types love helping others, and they tend to have strong ideas and values. They back their perspective with the creative energy to achieve their goals.

comprises 2.5% of the total world population (3rd rarest personality type)

strong extraverts and enjoy spending time with other people

interested in devoting their time to others

radiate authenticity, concern, and altruism

unlikely to be afraid to take the slings and arrows while standing up for the people and ideas they believe in

Strengths:

encouraging

persuasive - apparent in the meeting scene during Bell's remembrance of him

wide social circle - can be his list of agents, whom he may have close ties with personally

charismatic

natural-born leaders

Weaknesses:

self-sacrificing - may be related to sacrificing half of Europe for his plans to expand the Soviet Union

overprotective

manipulative

indecisive

overly idealistic - can be apparent in the meeting scene in Bell's remembrance

—————

Dimitri Belikov (INFJ-A — "Advocate")

Information about the personality type:

INFJs are deeply concerned about their relations with individuals as well as the state of humanity at large. They are, in fact, sometimes mistaken for extroverts because they appear so outgoing and are so genuinely interested in people -- a product of the Feeling function they most readily show to the world.

male INFJs comprises 0.5-1% of the total world population (rarest personality type)

emotionally intimate and fulfilled with a chosen few

have the clearest insights of all the types into the motivations of others, for good and for evil

usually reserved but highly sensitive to how others feel

capable of taking their values and using them to bring about positive and lasting change

Strengths:

focused on the future

values close, deep relationships - evident with Charkov being his best friend, despite the needed betrayal for the CIA

not materialistic

enjoy looking good and taking care of their appearance

very sensitive and emotional

Weaknesses:

difficult to get to know

incredibly stubborn

has a rebel attitude - true to him being the mole of the KGB and working for the CIA for a decade

dislikes confrontation - may be true to be called to the central committee and talking to Kravchenko

avoiding the ordinary

—————

Greta Keller (ISTJ-A — "Logistician")

Information about the personality type:

They like strengthening their current relationships rather than seeking out new ones. These people tend to “play the hits” in their lives. They find joy and comfort in the things they know they like and rely on what worked or didn’t work in the past when making big decisions.

female ISFJs comprises 8% of the total world population (common personality type)

have a keen sense of right and wrong

enjoy order and organization in all areas of their lives

carefully plan things out well in advance

place a great deal of emphasis on traditions and laws

Strengths:

self-sufficient - evident when letting Bell take lead and leaving herself behind

realistic

persistent

trustworthy

thorough - apparent in her dialogues in the bar

Weaknesses:

judgmental

gets involved in win-lose situations - evident when captured by Volkov and almost snapped by the neck to death

have tendencies to believe that they're always right

subjective

uncomfortable expressing emotion or affection towards others

[sokkastyles]

I saw a post today that used this excerpt from The Earth Kingdom Chronicles to try and twist Azula trying to capture Zuko and Iroh as “see, she cares about them! She thought that serving tea was beneath them and wanted them to come back to the Fire Nation!”

And aside from the fact that her goal of imprisoning them kinda puts a damper on the claim that she cares...even if she did “care,” what her thoughts about seeing her uncle and brother like this actually show is a deeply classist attitude, which doesn’t exactly drum up sympathy for Azula the way the post I saw seems to think it should.

I’ve written before about Azula’s classism which is shown in particular in her interactions with the Dai Li, and her belief in inherent right of rulership, which is also shown in how she feels about Zuko. I’ve also talked about the symbolism of tea and the necessity of Zuko’s tea shop arc in helping him to become the kind of Fire Lord that the world needs, a Fire Lord dedicated to serving and working with the nations to build peace and unity instead of trying to destroy them.

Azula’s brand of rulership is not only inherently prejudicial and destructive, it is incredibly selfish. That’s why she’s so repulsed by seeing her uncle and brother willingly stooping themselves to serving tea. And what’s more, they are serving tea to the king of a nation that Iroh once sought to conquer. This is made explicit in the show.

Iroh: Many times I imagined myself here, at the threshold of the palace. But I always thought I would be here as a conqueror. Instead, we are the Earth King's personal guests, here to serve him tea. Destiny is a funny thing.

Zuko: It sure is, Uncle.

Even Zuko, who struggled to let go of his own classism, at this point has embraced the simple life of servitude, and it’s Azula who is in the position that Iroh was in before the series began, the position of conqueror of Ba Sing Se.

This is shown symbolically through tea (the tea is symbolic!) when, in the scene before Azula’s confrontation with Zuko and Iroh, Azula is shown drinking tea that Ty Lee serves her, as Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai discuss the conquering of the city and Azula’s control of the Dai Li.

The way Azula treats the people closest to her is a microcosm for how she sees herself in relation to the other nations, as a conqueror. And Ty Lee, especially, she treats as a loyal subject, even though Ty Lee is also Fire Nation nobility. Ty Lee pours the tea but Azula is the only one in this scene drinking it. And Mai is there to support Azula’s belief in her inherent superiority, joking about her control over the Dai Li. In the excerpt from “The Tale of Azula” shown above, Azula’s thoughts about the Dai Li also expand upon the idea that she believes that they are unwaveringly loyal to her and this is how it should be. It’s interesting that she does not think about the possibility that they might betray her, since they betrayed Long Feng, but as I said in my post where I analyzed her interaction with Long Feng, Azula’s belief in her born right to rule gives her power over Long Feng, and she also believes that she has this power over the Dai Li, that they are her servants.

There’s also an interesting parallel here with Zuko and Iroh going undercover as refugees in the Earth Kingdom and Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee going under cover as Kyoshi warriors to infiltrate the city, and declaring themselves “the Earth King’s loyal servants,” while secretly planning a coup, which is successful. Zuko and Iroh actually end up embracing their disguises, while for Azula, it was only ever a means to an end, and her loyalties and perspectives on the other nations never changed, as well as her belief in her own superiority.

This is why Azula is so repulsed by seeing her brother and uncle as tea servers. The Fire Nation believes in its own ethnic superiority, so by that logic, Zuko and Iroh are ethnic traitors, lowering themselves to the position of “inferior” peoples. I don’t think that I have to do much to explain that this is a villainous and deeply troubling perspective, and one that has parallels in our own world.

And that’s why it’s also important that Zuko’s (and Iroh’s) journey towards becoming a better person involves serving others. What Azula thinks is a weakness is ultimately what becomes one of Zuko’s greatest strengths, and this is reinforced by the climax of these characters’ arcs, in which Zuko defeats Azula not through a feat of brute strength on his own, but with the help of someone who he considers an equal (and the seeds of that relationship are, interestingly, planted in this very episode, unintentionally, by Azula.) These are all the things that Zuko learned from Iroh, that there is no shame in admitting weakness, that true humility is in fact the only way to get rid of shame, and that there is nothing wrong with letting other people help you, nor is there flaw in helping others. (This is also shown in his apology to Katara, which is something Azula would never do, which leads to Zuko’s eventual gaining of Katara as a friend and ally, which leads to Azula’s defeat.)

In this scene we also see Azula casually dismiss Iroh’s wisdom as “a lengthy anecdote” that she doesn’t have time for, but it actually turns out to be his strength. AND it involves tea! I also love Zuko’s smirk right before Iroh does his “Dragon of the West” thing, because Zuko knows what a badass his uncle is.

Even so, it’s a defensive move that allows them to escape (almost) rather than the kind of brutal attack that Azula would favor. The kind of power that Iroh has is deceptive and is only used in defensive situations, and that’s also part of the legacy he passes down to Zuko that Azula dismisses as “soft,” but Azula’s inability to understand the value in softness is ultimately her downfall.

[thereoncewereflwrs]

in where i try to date a professor, and we never get to the point

A few years ago (in 2019, although we had known each other since 2015) I fell in love with my ex roommate in Brooklyn. He was, in fact, the total opposite of anyone I had ever had a remote or deep feeling towards prior to him: a white, Jewish, red curly haired, thin, freckly, trans man from upstate New York who had studied at the University of Chicago and knew fancy words in Russian. Regardless, or in spite of this great gap between my taste in men and his entire being, he had been the only man I had ever truly seen myself happy with. With him I learned new things about myself, words like ‘fat’ and ‘ugly;’ I learned that I was not a socialist because of its existing inability to reconcile the impact and affects of the industrial revolution; I learned I liked traveling with him and embarking in mindless and meaningless traditions in ways I had almost sworn myself off to. I had thought ‘well, I don’t ever want kids, but I’d raise his,’ or ‘I’ll never find a singular partner to spend the rest of my life with, but I don’t need that when I want to spend the rest of my life with my best friend anyways.’ Funny how it only takes one particular bundle of culminated cells to eradicate years of logical conclusions that have led you to the ideological and pragmatic decisions made. During a trip to New York that involved a very chaotic Passover dinner that led to an even more chaotic, and much more dangerous, outing in the middle of Manhattan at a lesbian dance club at 4 in the morning, I came to the realization that maybe the love I felt for him was beyond the kind one feels for friendship (up until this point I had convinced myself, and everyone around me, that I was living into the values of radical friendship....). On that trip I drunkenly confessed my newly realized feelings, clumsily putting together words the way a small child puts together lego blocks for the first time with sticky hands. That same trip his boyfriend gave me two books as a gift. I’ll never know why he did this, or what they really meant, but the awkwardness of the moment has stayed with me almost as if it happened yesterday.

Yesterday, in all actually, I scrambled through the piles of books in my small library and stumbled upon the selection of poems by Ocean Vuong that he had given me. As a general, personal rule I dislike poetry. Most often then not I don’t understand the different scraps of sentences cut and pasted together in strange formats to describe, what really? Hardly a plot, hardly a set of characters. A feeling, or sensation, or a set of things subjectively and rhythmically important but lacking in context or deeper development. Vuong is not the exception to this rule, but rather one that cleverly supports my self developed premise. Of course, my ex roommates boyfriend did not know any of this, and probably, he liked poetry and Ocean Vuong very much and thought it was a very nice gift indeed to give to his partners best friend (at the time). I feel inclined to say that Ocean Voung is a beyond amazing writer and I thoroughly enjoyed the few pages I did read of his novel “On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous.” Anyways, I perused the pages on his poetry book with slight amusement. More then the words on the pages, I relived my ex best friends face as his partner handed me the gift, his expression as he described how annoyed he’d been by the uncalled gesture, and how intrusive he had found the entire affair. I imagined his laughter, his comments, how his silence felt like so much presence that it felt like being home. That’s what it was like to be with him: home, being my own, authentic home, and always having him to gently guide me to that conclusion over and over again.

The only pages that stood out from the book go as thus:

From ‘Night Sky with Exit Wounds’ by Ocean Voung, Part 1:

‘Tell me it was for the hunger

& nothing less. For hunger is to give

the body what it knows

it cannot keep. That this amber light

whittled down by another war

is all that pins my hand to your chest.’

//

A few months ago, while driving up from South Florida after having picked up my mother from the airport, I confessed to her that I had been dating for the last 4 months, and had recently broken up with a Married Man. It had been the early hours of the dark night, and we had just passed the traffic infested city of Atlanta and were making our way through curved roads that led deeper into rural Georgia before it met Southern Tennessee. Tennessee was a new home away from an old home that had never been home to begin with. My anxiety came from the obvious places - a fear that she’d disapprove of my actions, that her judgement would lead to scrutinizing all my past decisions and actions until they became morally ambiguous to us both, and a fear of anger. More and more I think that in reality I feared seeing what I had been feeling all along: that I’d made a cliche joke of myself. Even through that haze, however, I could still feel the overriding, desperate sensation of being utterly heart-broken and sad. I had carried this feeling with me for the entirety of the 21 hour trip, and once the first words tripped over themselves to be heard, the watershed of memories and experiences flooded the car. It was both unbearable, like drowning, and overwhelmingly relieving, like being seen for the first time. Of course, this wasn’t the first time I’d told this story. But it had been the first time with my mother, and that, for some unrecognizable, instinctual reason, was different.

She held her tongue - an unusual practice for my mother - as I recounted event after event of the last 4 months. I was as honest as I could be: we’d met on tinder after my break up with my previous partner of almost a year, I had wanted to have casual sex, he had wanted more, and (I emphasized) I had not known he had been married at the time. More importantly (I *double* emphasized) when he did tell me, he had confessed that the marriage had been one of convenience. As a fellow immigrant, and as a person who had witnessed a few of these kinds of entanglements, I had cleared myself, in almost the same quickness as I draw breath, of the moral implications of the situation. “As long as you’re not *cheating*” I had muttered, and he had nodded emphatically, “I’m not.” His reassurance was short lived. Soon after that the realities of his “entanglement” became less clear, and more obvious. He had a 4 year old daughter, he had been married for several years (technically, more years then necessary), he couldn’t, as a matter of convenience and then as a practical, legal afterthought, tell his wife where he was or what he was doing (he was lying, that is). I knew very early on that he was indeed cheating on his wife, even if the beginnings of their relationship had started as a marriage of convenience. But by the time I came to that conclusion, it had felt too late, almost as if I had dug too deep into the ground and could now fight my way through mud and dirt until I asphyxiated, or enjoy the eternal rest that was promised.

Loving the Married Man (because yes, I had foolishly loved him) had not been like loving my ex best friend. Married Man’s love had been wide but shallow - not in the way that denotes a superficiality, but in the way that one sees on the surface of a lake small things grow fast and move away even faster - small tadpoles and water lilies, the creeping of little reptilian noses and little ducklings floating on by. It was the kind of love that felt strongest when we touched, as if my physiological sensory threatened to spill in words and phrases that put together sounded like ‘I love you,’ ‘please don’t hurt me,’ and ‘yes.’ Married Man was married, and therefor there had always been the foreshadowing of a great plot twist, one were he (very unoriginally, as to be expected from men) promised to leave his wife and start a life with me. I rejected this almost as much as I desperately and willingly fell into it. In the same breath taken to tell his lies, almost as if our tongues collided from the desperation of wanting to believe our own delusional narratives, I gave him everything I possibly had in me. My energy, my time, my body, even my money. His wife, you see, had been away for a few months, seeing family in Baltimore with their baby daughter, while he had stayed to work. I had known from the beginning that we weren’t going to end up together, I had righteously, almost superiorly, thought that I knew exactly where we were heading and therefor had control over the entire situation. He had persisted he loved me, didn’t want to lose me, didn’t want to see me with anyone else, needed me there, and that he was in fact preparing the divorce papers as we spoke. I upgraded my status from a casual fuck to his girlfriend, and shamelessly introduced him to my best friends (who, true to who we all are, did not judge but made room for my own dramas to unfold). It took me a while to see that I was a mistress playing the role of pretend-girlfriend. Even more, I was a clown donning on mistress attire.

I can understand, in subtle and in abruptly immediate ways the ‘hunger’ Vuong speaks of. Married Man did not create the conditions for this ‘hunger’ in me, it has always existed. Before Married Man there had been My Ex, and before My Ex there had been my Ex Best Friend, and before him there had been every other man I’d engaged with romantically and in a familial way.

I know this ‘hunger’ inside me craves what can only go right through me. I have stubbornly, recklessly and without analysis, allowed myself to feed it with emptiness disguised as bountifulness. I have sat myself in a table that is all together wrong for me, in a chair that has been made too small for my thick thighs and bulbous belly, looked up at faces that have not smiled back, and taken a bite of food that has not been prepared with love, not really. This is no ones fault. I do not remove myself from accountability by saying this. What I did in a lot of ways can be considered hurtful, immoral, disdainful, distasteful, etc,. I also know that I am learning, still always learning, and need to be graceful and gentle with myself. Today, through a configuration of thoughts, I have realized I have been feeding my body meals foreign to me and my well being. And that I must now learn, or re-learn by tapping into what I hope is some collective, ancestral knowledge, how to make the meals that will nourish and settle in me forever.

//

From ‘Night Sky with Exit Wounds’ by Ocean Voung, Part 2:

‘I wanted to disappear - so I opened the door to a stranger’s car. He was divorced. He was sobbing into his hands (hands that tasted like rust). The pink breast-cancer ribbon on his key chain swayed in the ignition. Don’t we touch each other just to prove we are still here? I was still here once. The moon, distant & flickering, trapped itself in beads of sweat on my neck. I let the fog spill through the cracked window & cover my fangs. When I left, the Buick kept sitting there, a dumb bull in pasture, its eyes searing my shadow onto the side of the suburban houses. At home, I threw myself on the bed like a torch & watched the flames gnaw through my mother’s house until the sky appeared, bloodshot & massive. How I wanted to be that sky - to hold flight & fall at once.’

\\

In October of 2020 I went on a date with a Professor from a State University. His profile on tinder promised 1 free joke if you matched with him, and I had casually indulged in the free entertainment. He had sent me 2, neither of which were funny, and instead had proceeded to insult me through a flurry of scattered presumptive discourse that I, true to my very nature, found anxiety inducing and oddly attractive. He had originally chosen to withhold his profession from me, having stated that he had “too many people under him” and wanted to keep the information hidden “for now.” I shrugged it off. I could trick myself into finding this level of secrecy mysterious, or I could see it for what it was, a waste of time as most tinder conversations tended to be. Through further indulgence he had confessed that he was a teachers assistant (here on by known only as the Professor) and was doing research on something or other in history (I really wish I could remember, but it was THAT obscure). I wanted to ask him what the impact and reasoning, and really, the justification he gave himself, was for embarking in studious, rigorous research and reading for a subject matter so far removed from our every day realities, especially during a pandemic and the mass murders of black and brown people at a national scale, but I kept silent. Instead we bantered a bit, exchanged ideas around Imposter Syndrome, and settled on an evening to see each other in where I’d drive to his apartment and he’d cook for me.

I wore my ‘date dress’ - a simple, black dress that hugged my torso and spread over my hips, tricking the eye into seeing less fat then there was on my body. I dressed this way not to obscure my fatness (although I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t sometimes don the dress in part because it had the added bonus of doing so) but because it was an easy ‘fuck’ dress. All I had to do, I knew by then from practice, was lift the skirt part and bring my underwear down. The efficiency of the dress, and how it made me feel, gave me confidence enough to walk into a complete strangers apartment and make casual conversation as if pretending to be old friends who were excited about catching up. This is always the pretext that is built. I pretend to be captured by the magic of his words - he being whoever he is - and ask question after question in the hopes of digging deeper into who the person really is. I didn’t really care that he was from Ethiopia or that his parents had been revolutionaries or that he was stressed about his profession although he got paid almost double what I did, but I didn’t *not* care either, which made all the difference. He had been the *presumably* smartest man I had talked to during my time in Tennessee, and I have always liked feeling like I knew less then the male partners I had. I had my period that day, but after a few awkward moments in where he asked to kiss me (I said no, then felt horribly guilty about it and relented), grabbed my boob, and had his dick out while still in the couch, he came. It was one of the few times I have had casual sex with someone where I didn’t finish. In a strange, almost methodical way, I could give men my attention, my emotional presence, my intellectual capacity, my dry or dorky humor, even my body willing or unwilling, but I found it unacceptable to not finish while having sex with a cis-hetero-male. For this alone I was vexed by the entire interaction, and after taking him to buy cigarettes at the near by gas station and back (he was a Professor without a car), and after he had reassured me that he liked me, that he had had a nice time and that he hoped to see me again, I made the 30 minute drive home. We texted sparingly after that. We tried to make plans but he always flaked, claiming to be too busy and stressed with work (I don’t disbelieve this) and apologizing profusely about it. Saturday, October 31st had been our last text exchange, until two days ago. There’s no reason to berate this long winded summary with the details of that conversation. Suffice it to say that he once again asked to meet up with me, and then today canceled with the familiar excuse of work and stress. I think about him now and write about him because it took everything in my power to not text him reassuring words, to not ease his expressed anxiety at potentially “wasting my time.” To not ease his turmoil of using me by sending him a song and being witty and casual. I have felt, in fact, that my time has been wasted. That he got way more out of the flimsy arrangement we had concocted, and that after having had sex with my hand and mouth, he had no longer felt a genuine interest in talking with me. Of course, he owes me nothing and I am not entitled to his time or presence. But all together this story feels too similar to the many random encounters one has with ‘fuck-boys’ in where they feign interest until they are sexually fulfilled and then suddenly no longer remember your name. I don’t type any of this with bitterness. At most, I feel a slight comical annoyance at him. More importantly, I feel things for and towards myself.

Where does this hunger that needs fulfilling come from? Where was its conception? It’s birth? I wonder if I’ll ever be good enough for myself.

As Nina Simone once said, “you’ve got to learn to leave the table when loves no longer being served.” Tables and chairs and foods and a hunger. That’s all I can think of today.

[flangst]

Dark Crystal AU part 2 headcanon boogaloo

More ideas for how Goodguy!Skeksis and Badyguy!Mystics would act. Long worldbuilding/headcanons post

Mystics

Evil monks, very deliberate and always acting with forethought. Basically a death cult who have led the Gelflings and other species to their death “for the greater good,” in this case immortality. They also cultivate the Darkening because “everything must go back to the darkness.” Kind of worship death so they like the Crystal in its current state

Insanely old. Don’t move for days on end.

Live by a code instead of by random impulses like the Skeksis. No fear of death so they don’t understand how others fear it and have no empathy.

They still feel all the guilt and regret; very solemn but feel this is how things must be

Can use some kind of potion to remove essence but need Crystal in proximity and the subject must willingly ingest; possibly by hypnotic chanting?

When he was alive, urVa was their terrifying warrior monk who would hunt people for them. Sometimes.

UrGoh still a good guy who went off with skekGra (they’re still dead by the time of the movie)

Skeksis:

Good is not nice

No longer have the desire to constantly inflict pain on other species. They are still scared of death but it doesn’t control their every decision. It also allows them empathy with mortal creatures (so they can learn to love and take care of Jen). They don’t want the world to be destroyed, they live here!

They are still very elderly and crinkly but not rotting away anymore. Old AF, please stop running kid, ol’ SkekSo can’t keep up the way he used to

Huge grumps to each other and generally don’t get along but they try to hide their arguments when Jen is around. Complain constantly

Their motive for becoming reunited is they can feel their lives are coming to an end (self-preservation) and revenge on the Mystics. Jen is the spearhead of their revenge.

They still crave luxury but make do with the stuff in the valley. Wish they could have stayed in that nice castle. Have impulsive behavior but not in such a horribly self-destructive way.

Ethical hedonists; have a genuine love for the world around them, though sometimes it’s an abusive love. Still are large predatory animals. Still are gross! Not as gross though

Relationships with Jen:

SkekSo (The Emperor): Still super in charge. Everything the light touches is his kingdom, etc. Closest to Jen because he saved and initially raised him. A little too indulgent but also firm with punishment. A hard-ass but loves his son. “I have only had Jen for half an hour but if anything happened to him I would kill everyone in this valley and then myself.” Actually taught Jen about the prophecy before the 11th hour. But he over-taught so Jen wasn’t prepared for contingencies.

SkekUng (The General): Taught Jen lots of strategy games. Also taught him the best strategic place to kill invaders from. Lots of “that’s my boy!” and back slapping. Basically the Asshole Sports Dad.

SkekSil (The Chamberlain): Somewhat indulgent and coddling. Surprisingly the most understanding when Jen wants to talk about feelings. Taught Jen the value of the Little White Lie(s) and petty vengeance.

SkekZok (The Ritual Master): Taught Jen the value of rules and self-discipline. Also Jen helps him feed the Peeper Beetles. Controls via fear such as telling Jen a monster will eat him if he doesn’t go to bed on time. Rules Dad.

SkekTek (The Scientist): Really wishes he had “more lab space.” Workaholic. Makes Jen little doohickeys to distract him so he can work. Hates when Jen touches his stuff but he never stays mad for too long. Jen is his minion who gets him stuff sometimes.

SkekAyuk (The Gourmand): Really fond of Jen and likes having him help make food. Fascinated by Jen’s comparatively discerning palate. Probably the most responsible for bad table manners. Way too indulgent; will let the kid stay up eating cake if it’ll make him sleep.

SkekEkt (The Ornamentalist): Fussy fashion mom of the group. Always uses Jen as a model for his clothing, hairstyles and so on. Gets annoyed when he gets dirty or messy. Taught him better table manners. Always puts Jen’s hair in a little ponytail like his. Over-dramatic about everything.

SkekNa (The Slave Beast-Master): Taught Jen how to deal with animals (and other lowly races of Thra). Still lost body parts in his job because critters can be vicious.

SkekOk (The Scroll-Keeper): The historian. Taught Jen to write and read. A firm and picky teacher with high standards. Tried to teach Jen anything he could on Gelfling, may have made some things up as most of the writings on them are lost or destroyed.

SkekShod (The Treasurer): Taught Jen math and slightly irresponsible financial practices. Doesn’t talk much. Can be bribed to let Jen out of lessons with shinies.

[feliceperez]

Thought #18: On the Way There

I dedicate this post to all of my friends who never left me during the darkest days and most difficult times. Thank you my constants, I would have never made it without you. 

Originally, this post was meant to culminate my 5-year journey in UA&P; my experiences, learnings, and the notable things that happened in my college life. A “traditional graduation post” I call it. However, since we are still in the pandemic quarantine and I just got out from a much needed hiatus, I thought it would be more fitting to post it now given all the events that have happened ever since my last post. 

It has been 4 years since I last posted, and so many things have changed since then. I drifted away from friends and gained new ones, encountered a lot of obstacles in finishing my academics, experienced betrayals, manipulation, broken promises, and disloyalty from some of the most unexpected people. I experienced countless times of self-doubt, emotional anxiety, and guilt, accompanied by people who made me feel that I was a complete nothing, that my efforts and all the other things I do to make things better were just for naught. I honestly thought I’d never make it (and for those who know and were there during the darkest of the darkest days, you would know what I am talking about). But here I am, 4 years later, still alive and breathing and about to officially close this dark book of my life.

My college journey was not easy. I have encountered professors and lecturers who diminished my value, even going as far as trying to humiliate not just me, but a lot of other students as well. I have cried, I have given up on passing certain papers, only to try again just for me to pass my subjects. Multiple subjects I failed, multiples times I questioned if I was treading the right path, multiple times I doubted if it was really worth fighting for my degree and not transfer schools. But one thing was true all throughout the journey: UA&P was not my dream university, but it was the university that I needed in order for me to grow. My university may have shook and tested my values and principles a lot of times, but it was for me to stand better and taller for the future that I was about to take. As I said in my graduation post back when I graduated last August 2020, this university made me understand more what it means to hold on and offer it up. 

After graduation, my trials did not end there. Apart from the pressure at home for law school and the pandemic stress, I struggled finding work for 10 months. Competition for jobs were high, since I was competing not just with my fellow Batch 2020 graduates, but also with those who were laid off from their work and were also looking for a new job. Before I landed on the job that I have found right now, I had 68 work applications sent to various organizations and companies. Of that 68 work applications, I received 4 offers, with me finally taking the latest offer after much consideration. In the past 10 months, I battled with myself, trying to answer questions such as “What was lacking in me?”, “Where am I going wrong?”, and “Should I have just done law school now just like what some people said?” Amidst my work application stress and pressure, my 5-year relationship ended last April, and the things I found out later on added to the things I was thinking about. For me to process things properly since everything was happening all at the same time and to avoid the toxicity I can possibly give to my friends, I took a 4-day hiatus from my Facebook account and kept in touch with only the ones I can trust. 

Today, I come out of it as someone who’s found what she has lost over the years, and is on the way to knowing herself more than ever.

I read once again the learnings I posted back in 2015 when I turned 18 years old. It felt surreal going through them again more than 5 years later, because I was realizing them in a different perspective with different explanations this time. Allow me to share the changes (and to add to the list) what I realized and thought over during my 4-day Facebook hiatus:

1. Letting go is not a “have-to-do” kind of thing, rather it’s a choice that you make. 18-year old self:  Yes, it’s hard to set people free, to let go of someone or something you’ve gotten really attached to. But sometimes, you have to let go because they’ve become something that prevents you from moving forward in your life. In other words, a magnet that’s pinning you to them like a metal. You have to set not only the other free, but yourself as well from all the pain it’s causing you. However, you won’t be able to do it just because of the “haves” mentioned, but you should always want to do it. It will take a while coz face it, it’s never easy to willingly decide to move on. But if you really want to, and as long as you have the right justifications to do so, then you will.

23-year old self: 5 years later, this is still true, but it does not just apply to people now. When you let go, you need to choose to let go of everything about the person, including feelings. Whether that is love or anger, you need to let go of it because that is the only way for you to move forward. And, you need to choose it, you need to want it. If you will only do it because “you have to”, then there is always the risk of not letting go of everything, of tolerating things, because you will feel that you are forced instead of willingly choosing to do it. Letting go is a choice you make for yourself, for your own well-being, and not for anybody else. 

2. The best people that hone who you are aren’t only those who became your constants, but also those who left you. 18-year old self: “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” Maybe you’ll find it funny why I used this quote because your understanding might be different from mine, but hey everyone has their own way of thinking and understanding things.

In my perspective, your enemies are the ones that give you some (if not most) of the worst trials of your life. Let’s say you were bullied in school during your younger years. Not everyone will be able to cope with those really well. Some may become bullies too when they get older, or be depressed, or worse even commit suicide. But for those people who know how to cope with it well know how to handle themselves better in similar situations. They don’t repeat the same mistake, they don’t hurt others just because they are hurt themselves, and there are times when they are the ones who defend the bullied. Furthermore, they know the effects of it and they grow to be better people because of it. It’s amazing how one person, whether he/she has hurt you or not, can teach you a lot of lessons that you need to know in order to live this life in a better way than the rest.

23-year old self: Looking back at my explanation back then, I do admit it is confusing HAHAHAHAHA. Maybe now I can offer something better.

People get to hurt us because they hold pieces of us that we gave to them when we trusted them. But I would not, and cannot count it as a wrong decision because at the time we trusted them, it was their choice to hurt us. So we should not beat ourselves up for the choices they make themselves. But even if they hurt us, the pain that we felt is in itself a lesson, something that we can take away while we process that pain. That is why the people who hurt us are also the best people that help hone who we are, because with the pain they give come the learnings and takeaways that we cannot learn from those whom we are in good terms with. 

3. Take risks. 18-year old self: Life is too short to avoid taking risks. It’s not bad to take risks, coz they give you experience too. But know which one to take, and weigh the possible outcomes. It’s okay to commit mistakes or the ”wrong risks”, but not all the time. Learn to think too and not be careless. Be reckless, but not to the point where you won’t think and just “go lang ng go”.

23-year old self: This is still true and this is something I should have done while I was in college. But I guess it is not too late now right? I mean, I am finally done with school so I have that whole life ahead of me to do this already. 

Don’t forget this anymore, self. 

4. Don’t regret on lost opportunities. 18-year old self: Yes, it’s not good to miss an opportunity or let it slip from your hands. But hey, always remember that there’s a reason why you missed out on that opportunity. It’s either you had to learn an important lesson, be safe from an unfortunate experience or He wants you to experience it, or better, He has a better opportunity laid out for you.

23-year old self: I better understand this now that I found the miracle job that I have been looking for. I call it the miracle job because it was everything I wanted: good company, good offer, good proximity from where I live, and from the looks of it, good culture as well (since I have a fellow UA&P Political Economy alumna as one of my bosses). I lost 2 opportunities before this miracle job, but I do not regret those lost opportunities. Indeed, He had a better opportunity laid out, and I can’t wait to see how this road will play out for me. 

5. Know a lot of people, but know who your constants will be. 18-year old self: Your constants are the people who will be with you for a really long time (I didn’t say “forever” because it’s really up to them if they want to), so know the “right ones”. These are the people who will see who you become asides from your family, who will form the other major parts of your whole self. Your constants will play an important role in your life, so better know who they are.

Definition of “right”? Well that’s up to you.

23-year old self: Growing up not relying on my family and relatives, my friends were the people I run to in times of need. With all of the things I experienced, they became the fortresses I lean on, the witnesses of my cry fests, heartbreaks, and giving up moments. Unfortunately, because of certain circumstances, I drifted away from so much good friends from my high school days when I went to college. So during the pandemic, I took this as an opportunity for me to regain lost connections and build new ones. So far, some of them were successful, while there were a handful that were not. 

Throughout my college journey, I am happy that I also found some of my constants from another course. College became the living proof that even if I knew a lot of people in the university, there will only be a handful of them that I can call my constants, the “right ones”. Also, the length of the friendship does not define if they will be your constants or not. People are your constants when you know that your friendship with them can stand above time and physical interactions, knowing at the end of the day, they got your back and you got theirs.

6. Leave the bad memories in the past. 18-year old self: In my perspective, “bad memories” trigger trauma, fear, and grudges against anything or anyone. Those aren’t healthy for me because it hinders me from doing what I want to do, hence not making me “grow” to be a better person. I’m not saying that keeping the bad memories is “bad”, but if it’s not helping you anymore and instead becoming toxic to your personality and way of thinking, then I think it’s best to get rid of it. Learn what you have to learn from it, then leave the memory in the past and move forward with the lesson.

23-year old self: College gave me a ton of bad memories. But I guess that is also the reason why I said it was also this journey that made me understand more what it meant to hold on. Bad memories are there for you to learn from them, not for you to keep reminiscing and going back to. So it is better to leave them in the past, but never forget the lessons it gave you. 

7. Best version of yourself? Look at the mirror everyday. 18-year old self: You are at your best version each day that comes in your life. So chin up, smile, and make the most out of everything every day. You’re beautiful, just the way you are.

23-year old self: Still true. Each day we grow, and from each day we do not stay the same as who we were yesterday. Your best version of yourself will always be who you are at present, and it will keep getting better as each day passes by.

8. Hone your natural skills. 18-year old self: Natural skills are your intangible gifts from God. So, the best way you can give back to Him is by nurturing your given talents and using them for a good purpose. After all, He gave those to you because He wants you to use them for the good.

23-year old self: Waw daming time? AHAHAHAHAHA but this is one of the things I miss doing. So in this pandemic, I started catching up on these by attending to one of the primary skills I need to master: writing. I have a lot of content in line folks hehehe so stay tuned.

9. Do something new everyday. 18-year old self: Don’t be content with your present natural skills! Be out there and do something out of the norm. Who knows, your other talents are just hidden, waiting to be discovered by you.

23-year old self: As what people say, the best time to try new things is the moment you start thinking about it. However, for some people who have priorities and timelines set, this will have to wait. But hey, resourcefulness is key. There may be a lot of things I want to try and do everyday, but I will do them once I get to save up my own money. For now, I shall settle with focusing on one thing I have always wanted to learn and master: playing the ukulele. 

10. Having your alone time isn’t bad. 18-year old self: Being a lone wolf makes you discover something about you. Go on a date with yourself, write, have fun with movies at home, or simply go out and do some self-exploration. Self-adventures are usually how people get to know themselves better, because these are where people get to test their capabilities and limits to the maximum levels. Just don’t be a lone wolf too much, after all humans were made to be social beings.

23-year old self: Something definitely not ideal given the pandemic situation. But that does not mean you can’t do stuff while at home. I have been catching up on my books here, and I have been catching up on sleep that I lost when I was in college. Self-care, self-love is so important, which is something I should have done a long time ago.

11. Give your all when you love. 18-year old self: Loving someone isn’t all about you, rather it’s about both of you. Love doesn’t just work because of the feelings you both have. It flourishes because of the efforts placed in to make the relationship work. Love works and becomes better when both sides invest time, compromises, and sacrifices in it.

23-year old self: Fresh from a 5-year relationship, I can say that this is still me, and this is still how I love: choosing others before me. I am still the type to go lengths for my friends, and give a lot of sacrifices for my significant other. Though I do admit I chose not to look at all the red flags waving at me, it was a relationship where I saw how far I can give for love. It may have not worked, but I am happy and proud that the way I love is the genuine, honest. sincere, and pure kind, and I do hope the next and hopefully the last person (pang-forever type), will feel lucky with the kind of love I can give.

But hey, this does not just apply to romantic relationships, it also applies to friendships you have built over the years. Giving your all in love for people who matter to you is something not everyone can do, so keep at it while you have it. Just do not forget to give yourself some love as well.

12. Failed relationships aren’t a bad thing. 18-year old self: After all that you’ve done, the relationship fails. It hurts, but hey, focus on the positive things that it gave you. You learn from your mistakes. You learn what you should do and not do. You know what traits of a guy you don’t like. You see yourself in a different light. Yes, it may bring negative effects like you develop the fear of getting hurt, or trusting someone with your heart. Don’t despair, because you’ll be able to get rid of those fears that you have in time. Just don’t shut your doors completely because who knows, your “the one” is just lingering around the corner waiting to be discovered.

23-year old self: Man, my 18-year old self is sure a hopeful one. Though I still agree that failed relationships are not a bad thing, it is tiring most especially if you have invested a lot of time and effort and the other party still does not recognize the sacrifices you did. But as I said, with failures come learnings, so they are not completely a total loss. 

13. Never waste time on something that ain’t worth it. 18-year old self: Get rid of anything toxic to you. Leave behind anything that’s keeping you from moving on with life. Stop going back to the previous pages, and instead keep writing onto the coming ones. Time is more precious than jewels, so don’t waste it on anything that’s less than its worth. You’re the only one who has a say on who’s worth of your time, so spend it wisely! Life’s too short to get your time wasted on worthless stuff ya know.

23-year old self: This hits hard most especially since I spent so much time on someone who was not worth it at all. I thought that it was a person worth spending that much time with, but I guess I was wearing rose-colored glasses for me to see that it was not worth it anymore. 

Still, it feels good finally remove those glasses and never look back. So self, this is something you should never forget anymore, most especially since you like wearing your heart on your sleeve. 

14. You define who you are, not what people say. 18-year old self: Hypocrites can judge you on what you wear, say, or do, but only you have the say if these are really you or not. Sure you can take in comments from them, but you have to filter. Not everything they say are true about you. You know yourself, your capabilities, abilities, skills, weaknesses, flaws, whatever. The point is, you know yourself better than anyone. Who are they to judge you anyway, they aren’t the boss of you. Only One has the right to judge you, and He’ll do that when you die.

23-year old self: Still true, most especially now that I am about to work and venture out there in the real world. No matter how long a person may have known you, they do not have the right to define who you are and who you are going to be. You are the boss of yourself, since it is only you who decide between choices that come your way. 

15. Don’t let the bad stuff pin you down. Get up! 18-year old self: Get up from that pit of pity of yours. Show everyone who you are and what you can really do. Free yourself from those chains of the bad, and do yourself a favor. You wanna grow and be better? Go do it. No one’s stopping you from doing so, and don’t let anyone stop you from getting yourself free.

23-year old self: The past years have not been easy, but if I continue to linger around and let it consume me, I will stay in the same place forever. I am really happy I decided on this sooner than I expected it. This is a decision you decide because you want to make things better for yourself, not for anyone else. If you let negativity tie you down, you will not grow for the better. Rest is okay, but it does not mean you should stay in that spot for too long. When you feel better, get up! Keep walking and moving forward.

16. Change is normal. 18-year old self: One minute you’re happy, but next thing you know it, you’re bellowing your eyes out because something unfortunate has happened. What I’m saying is, changes can happen all of a sudden in a span of a second, so you have to live with those changes. Cope, adjust if you have to.

However, never forget that you have to change too. It’s inevitable. Whether you like it or not, you will change physically, emotionally, mentally, psychologically. But, it’s up to you how you will change. Will you change for the better, or retain the you now? Take your pick.

23-year old self: So much change has happened through the years. Some good changes, some bad changes. To answer the question “Will you change for the better, or retain the you now?”, I am more than happy to say that I chose to change for the better, and I will keep choosing to change for the better. 

17. Live each day as if it’s your last. 18-year old self: Face it, you’ll never know when you’ll die. Isn’t it better to die having done all that you want to do in the world? Be happy, be carefree. Do what you want, be who you are. Make the most out of every moment that you have and be with the people who matter to you. Make a lot of memories that you can. Go out with your friends, explore, discover. Love as if there’s no tomorrow and live like you’ve only got one shot in your whole life.

23-year old self: This is hard, most especially when you are restricted because of people and your circumstances. But if there’s one thing that I learned in the past years, it is to always choose to be happy. Choose what makes you grow, what makes you happy, what is good, and what makes your life worth living. 

18. The Guy up there will always be with you til the end. 18-year old self: May not be true for everyone, but true for me. No matter what age I was in, He stood by me always. And it is to Him I owe everything I have.

23-year old self: One of the truths that I got to see for myself most especially in my college journey. He made the impossible things possible, and He gave me so much more than what I deserve. His miracles in my life have been amazing, and I am so excited to see how else is He going to make me grow into the person I am meant to be. 

19. Trust your gut feeling. Gut feeling is a feeling or thought you get when you are about to decide on something or when you are about to get yourself into something that is not really familiar to you. Sometimes it can come as a warning, or a random thought that you suddenly get out of nowhere.

Looking back in my 23 years of existence, my gut feelings have almost never failed me. Honestly, if only I listened to my gut feeling before, I would have not went through some of the things I went through. I am happy though that I listened to it more in the past few months, which also contributed to the place where I am today.

20. It’s okay to take a break, even retreat when you have to. Rest is a necessity. You will not be able to function properly if you do not give yourself ample time to take a break from everything that is happening. Some may do it through catching up on sleep, while others may find it when they play video games or do their other hobbies. For me, I caught up on much needed sleep from the sleepless nights in college, and played Call of Duty Mobile with my friends. Usually my retreat sessions happen in actual retreats, but given the current situation, I resorted to deactivating my Facebook account for the first time. It felt good, and it was something I needed before I start working in a few days. 

21. Choose your battles wisely. In the recent events that happened to me, I learned that it was tiring to fight in every single thing that will not have any value in the long run. Energy is precious, and it should not be spent on battles not worth engaging in. Choosing not to engage in a battle does not mean weakness, it just means that you are choosing to spend your energy on battles where you will learn and grow.

22. Learn from your regrets. I have always lived by “Never regret anything that made you happy” ever since my high school days. However, as I went through college, regretting things became inevitable, most especially on bad decisions made and missing really good chances and opportunities that passed by and never came back.

Though I still believe in not regretting things that made me happy even just for a while, I learned that not all decisions that made me happy momentarily were good for me in the long run. Anything temporary will just be temporary, and in this life, things that matter and affect you in the long run will always be better. So it is always important to learn from those regrets and mistakes, and make sure that it does not happen again in the future.

23. The little things matter.  In this pandemic, I have realized how much I took for granted the little things such as seeing friends face to face, on-site internship and office interactions, having dinners or late night walks, travelling around the city and watching in cinemas. Now, it is so hard to do that without worrying if you can catch the virus or bring it home unknowingly and put certain family members at risk. 

Now more than ever, little things matter. So it is important to make the most out of everything, keep yourself happy, and make even the smallest blessings count. Be there for people who matter to you, and keep your relationship with them strong and worthwhile.

There you have it: 23 key takeaways from a life of laughter, tears, and everything in between. Here’s to celebrating growth and learning. ♡

[forgottenyear]

[tw: rape, sexuality]

[This is more of a journal entry. It is a very long text, greater than 2500 words, be warned.]

I am not necessarily impaired by this, but I am prone to compulsion. I think it is bleed-over from all of the other ‘pointless’ compulsions that I perform just to appear normal. There are so many things that I have to consciously force myself to do in life, like making eye contact and smiling and shaving and whatnot. They have no meaning for me, but I recognize that if I perform the rituals then people tend to accept me more easily. It is not unreasonable to think that a few of the rituals sneak into compulsion even though they serve no meaningful purpose.

And it can be hard to distinguish meaningful from meaningless when I get directions from the non-vocal other remaining member of our system. There are many, many things that I do that appear meaningless at the time, but I later learn that they were particularly meaningful. The other member is the bright one, and so I have learned not to second-guess their directions.

So, in the end, pointless rituals tend to sneak through without notice. They all feel just as pointless. They all carry the feeling that I will cause or allow something bad to happen if I fail to carry out the ritual or whatever.

*

Being around other people is exhausting. There are so many things I must consciously do and so many things I must consciously not do. There is so little time left for me to be me and to think freely. It is disheartening, also, that people get to know a collection of rituals instead of me.

It is also painful that who I am is not necessarily what I am. I have written before that I am not attached to my name, or any name. I am also not attached to my body. I am reminded that I am not detached from my body when I stub my toe, but what my body is is less important to me.

What my body is, tends to be a nuisance to me. I would not call it dysphoria because it is a thing I just do not care about, and dysphoria would imply that I care. I took on a more masculine appearance, in what appears to have been a direct reaction to the final trauma of the previous identities. But it is nothing more than a different set of stupid rituals about which I care nothing.

The previous identities obviously cared what gender they were. I do not. I would be happier if agender was a normal thing. I would be more comfortable without gender or sexuality or all of the complications that come with them. I would feel closer to being me.

To keep everything complicated, I am romantic (a distinct axis of identity from gender and sexuality). Looking back, I can see that I obliviously walked into disasters when I pursued romantic attachments without considering that the subjects of my pursuit may have assumed that my intentions were sexual instead.

I am not asexual. I have working parts and they can be fun to play with. But sexuality is only incidental for me. Which makes my current relationship less complicated since my partner is, in practice at least, asexual (they have not claimed this to be a part of their identity, and I will not assume a right or privilege to push the decision onto them). We do not have sexual needs for each other, so we are unencumbered by the issues involved in that theater of relationships.

But our current, asexual, relationship is not average. I am only just beginning to sort out my dissonant misunderstandings around this.

We were quite a bit younger when we first met, and so our urges were more pronounced, but we dated for over half a year before we first had sex. It sort of felt expected that we should be sexual together and it was not bad, so it became a regular substitute for masturbation, mostly, in the beginning. When the overall relationship became tenuous, the sexual relationship faded away. Although we have reestablished the rest of the relationship, neither of us has felt the obligation toward sex we did early on.

I tend to crave romantic connections over sexual ones. I want companionship in which I am not compelled to perform all the stupid rituals. Where the other party will recognize that I do not naturally do eye contact, and so when I make eye contact, it requires conscious effort and I am doing it for them – that while they may not require me to do so, I am willingly sacrificing my comfort and nature on occasion because they matter to me and I want for them to be happy. Where freedom to be ourselves is applied equally. Where they feel safe to relax and to stop suppressing the things they guard against doing in public, because I am not going to throw stones.

There was a point where there was no cause to hope for my current relationship to recover. My partner and I were going our separate ways (they entered a relationship with another person, and sex was an element they did not hide). With no acknowledged relationship between us, I was back on the market. I did approach two others, in my awkward way, and while I would not have been confused by rejection, I was confused by the reasoning – they did not want to have sex with me. I had not asked them to go to bed with me, I only asked if they would consider falling in love with me. I did not equate the two, and so I was wholly unprepared for the reactions.

I can hear the reader saying “well, duh,” in response to the rejections I wrote about in the last paragraph. What others can see to be obvious, I did not see until recently. While I do not feel comfortable to have sex outside of a relationship, I have no discomfort around a relationship without sex. My sexuality is only a nuisance anyway, like other bodily functions, so I do not necessarily want to pollute a good relationship by foisting it onto a partner.

In the end, I would be happy to have my sexuality extracted. To have a purely romantic relationship with another person, in which I am never misunderstood to want something else. Where my motives are never suspect. And where I am never obligated to perform as something I have never felt myself to be.

As I said, I am not asexual. I do enjoy sex. But I think that has more to do with the body than anything else. I am not attached to this body’s sexual needs. I do not identify as this body’s sexual needs. I would feel no great loss if this body ceased to be sexual. Honestly, I would feel relief.

*

I make a point of clarifying that this body is that of an old man. I do not want for this to be a surprise for anyone. I do not want for anyone to retroactively reassign everything I am to nefarious impulses. I want for everyone to remain safe, and so I must accept that this body is always a potential threat.

Which is why I wish I could have my sexuality extracted.

I value connections with other people far greater than I value this body’s sexuality.

I would rather emotionally connect with people without the slightest possibility of sexuality, than to be sexual without the slightest possibility of emotional connection.

Unfortunately, my body must always be considered a threat to others. There must always be a wall. Because of the possibility of sexuality that is inherent to the body of an old man, this threat envelopes all else. It precludes emotional connections that are unprepared for sexual things, simply because old men cannot be trusted not to use emotional connections as openings for sexual acts.

I want for everyone to know that I am an old man and that I cannot be trusted. I do not want for anyone to relax their guard for any old man, and to set themselves at risk.

That said, I have found my happiest moments in interactions with others on the Internet, before thoughts of sexuality polluted the connections. I have enjoyed long conversations in which I did not need to be someone I am not. What I did not always know at the time was that these interactions were the result of deception. That people were more open to me because they did not realize I am an old man. That in some cases, they assumed I was a woman and when they learned I am not, they had to assume I had intended to violate them. In too many other cases, they assumed I was a woman and being a man had thwarted their intent to violate me. Sadly, the freedom to be me came to an end when the possibility of sexuality disturbed the peace.

*

Who I am is a direct response to the trauma this body experienced. While I do not naturally think this, the very fact that there were previous identities in this body is confirmation of the influences of trauma. It was a belief parentally nurtured as a foundation, that boys are bad and girls are good, that established the natures and expectations of the boy identity and the girl identity. The ‘punishments’ and neglect influenced the formation and the shaping of the identities. The sexual assaults, thankfully mostly veiled today, did their part.

When the girl identity was transitioning to become host, she had not developed a fear of men. She did not suspect that she was being targeted for rape. She knew only friends. There is no way to describe what this did to her. To them. I have to write carefully because it can destroy me.

I have to assume that I am the integration of the previous identities. I cannot put words to what their trauma has done to me.

[I need a break.]

*

*

I struggle with the fact that my body is male and so it is essentially the same as the rapists from the memories. I rely on these stupid rituals to present myself as normal, more heavily when I am around male presences (not all men have male presences, and some women do). I rely on these stupid rituals to present as male for my safety. I rely on these stupid rituals to hide the fear.

I long for the freedom to be myself, but my safety must come first. I long for others to have the freedom to be themselves, but their safety must come first.

I long for the brief moments when we are away from male presences and we can relax and be ourselves. But they are far too brief because either a male presence will intrude or the realization that I am male will bring up the guard once again.

I wish I could be free to be me and there would be no threat that I am a male. I do not wish to be secretly male or to pursue male fantasies as a female. I just wish that the whole damned sexuality thing would stop threatening everything that is good and beautiful.

*

For what may be obvious reasons, I have no sexual fantasies that involve rape. I have no sexual fantasies in which someone gets hurt. I have no sexual fantasies involving risk. I have no sexual fantasies about degradation. I have no fantasies about ‘power over.’

When my partner and I were sexual, it was a little awkward at first. They expected me to be a male presence in the bedroom, but that is not who I am. Maybe this is why we are not necessarily sexual anymore, I cannot say.

What I enjoyed most about sex was what followed. The closeness. The tenderness. The warmth. The caring. The coupling that persists after the bodies are no longer one, but the souls are still intertwined. The act was merely the means to get to what followed. The act could be fun, of course. But the act is something that can be done alone, it is what follows that makes doing it with someone else so very special. I am not asexual, but if I could still get to what follows sex without sexuality, maybe I would be.

I have felt, on rare occasions, a more sustainable form of this connection to others, but without the sex. I wish that this could persist indefinitely. It has always ended without sex (since that was never my intent), but when the other person has assumed that was the inevitable next step.

All roads lead to sex, apparently. I am the odd one who would be happy to go someplace else.

*

I have been advised and/or pressured to transition to female. Except by those who think of me strictly as male. But everyone seems to miss the point.

I would wish to be purely gender-neutral, but even that attracts fetishists.

I have written in this post that I would wish to have sexuality extracted from me. What I would truly wish is for me to be extracted from sexuality. I do not want to be sexual and I do not want to be sexually attractive. I do not want to appear on the radar – I do not want to slip past anyone’s radar, I just do not want to exist at all in any sexual way.

I present as male because at least if I am attractive to anyone, I am less likely to appear vulnerable to predators.

*

When I read what I have written, I can see that the trauma shapes my identity.

I am going to reword most of the 2300-ish words I have already written (and betray any readers who may have invested themselves in reading this ridiculous post).

I do not have an issue with sexuality. My issue is with rape. I do not necessarily wish to be removed from sexuality, but from rape.

I clash with the whole ‘power over’ ideology.

*

My friend has been gone a decade. Early in the friendship, she wondered what I wanted from her. Later in the friendship, she knew what she wanted from me. Between these intrusions, we had a beautiful friendship.

But it was sex that diminished the brief time we had together. The brief freedom to be ourselves without worry that the other would get the wrong idea (at least to my perception of the time) was made more brief as a result of the intrusion of sex.

In our last conversations, I was talking about another person. I thought I was entering a new relationship and I was looking to my friend for advice (it turned out to be bad advice, but not because of her intent).

My friend made a few passes at me, but I evaded her. I am left to wonder if she would have lived even a little longer if she had hope for a relationship with me. I have often thought I ought to have relented for her sake. I knew that sex with her would have eclipsed the connection we had, would have ended the friendship as it was, but I would have prostituted myself to buy her more time on earth.

*

If the reader will pardon me for saying so, sex is f*ed up.

[paganchristian]

A picture I took out the window, a peaceful ride in the country, the rolling hills, the cows, the clouds, the blurry images streaming by like a tape, a childhood feeling, memories of gazing at the sun or the moon out the window and the ribbons of powerlines dancing, how beautiful they felt to me then, how full of happiness they seemed to be, dancing in such lovely curves, in rhythm with the music on the radio. 

 It reminds me of something simpler, more innocent, and more joyful, and more hidden, from the world, untouched, unseen, unfound, but wholly at home, loved and belonging, not alone, just almost yet unborn, living in a cocoon where the smaller and more simple the world, the better it is, and if the only other creatures who know me best are my other friends who are children.  And we all inhabit a secret world where innocence is everything and nothing but innocence exists. My sisters, though, weren’t that innocent and kind in all ways, to me.  And disturbing things had already taken root in me, in religious obsessive confusion, at that young age, and a feeling of numbness was starting to settle in, and a repression of my natural personality had already begun to work its way into my life.  It’s visible in home videos where my behavior began to change, and though no one says they knew why, I recall that a teacher was an influence upon me, to stifle my joy and exuberance, and as submissive as I had been taught at home too to be, I willingly shrank into a tiny shell.  But if I just vaguely let my memory rewind itself into the territory of faulty memories and feelings that tell more than facts, I can tap into a sense of pure innocence that I think is actually a mixture of reality, and fiction, and wishes and present tense life that has let me regain a feeling of childhood again, and paradise regained.  

I think that my relative is reachable, if only I reach them in such a delicate way, and I found and really saw and wanted to read again, this book I’d gotten, about mental health issues, certain mental health conditions they have.  It’s been sitting there but something just suddenly made me want to read it again, so eventually I may, though I’m having some difficulty with it, because I feel depressed by the subject matter.  I feel unsure that it will really help me.  Their particular manifestation of this condition is not typical and I don’t know if the book addresses this variation.  But maybe I can find other books or good websites that address that particular variation of the condition.  And really that condition might be a secret locked door that will let me reach them much better, if I can find the key to open things, because it is well known to have tremendous impacts on relationships of all kinds.  Whether it extends to our family relationship, they seem to have the idea that it doesn’t but after all I’ve read, and sensed and they have seemed to hint, I wonder if it does.  I wonder if I could help them much better with their problems if I understand all this, and yet, this condition is notoriously hard to treat so maybe it is more of a matter of accepting what is.  Sometimes it’s treatable but often it seems to be very resistant to treatment, unless the person with the condition t is very willing to cooperate.  

And I’m not a therapist of course and they’re not coming to me for psychological treatment, yet sometimes loved ones can help far more than therapy, as was the case for me, with my bipolar and anxiety, and yet my case was different, by far, than average.  And the loved ones and friends helped a while, but then I changed myself over decades of struggle and isolation and being totally alone and unable to voice my feelings to those who didn't’ care any longer (and therapy and drugs didn’t help either, but I was never treated for bipolar type 2/cyclothmia, only depression, so not sure about that aspect of the drugs).  Sometimes family and friends and loved ones can help, other times not.  Then the ones who helped me eventually turned their backs on me, but maybe it was too much, maybe it’s more of a burden than most can stand after a while.  

Even therapists are often depressed and they have one of the highest suicide rates of the occupations, I think I read.  It makes sense, if you think of the burdens they are feeling if they can’t help but feel overwhelmed by all they hear from others and then not being able to help them, as often people don’t respond well to treatment, and then therapist likely was attracted to that occupation because of relating and sympathizing with those suffering, which means they are more likely to be depressed or vulnerable to depression or mental illness, you would think, than the average population.  It’s not uncommon for therapist to have their own therapists too.  

But anyway, if I just have to accept my relative’s issues rather than help them, because their mental condition is often not responsive to treatments, well, ok.  And that makes me think, about the idea that maybe sometimes we can’t even stand to see our flaws, and it will destabilize us if we do, and not only that, but we need to be validated in our wrong ideas, so that we feel like we have a sense of purpose and worth, and it’s really strange to think of that.  Usually people don't think that way and yet I have lived that out myself and it really feels, looking back, that I did need that.  As long as it doesn’t do any kind of harm to anyone and it’s the best you can do, then maybe sometimes people are so trapped in their delusions in certain ways for the time being that they might need that. 

I think that I don’t have to worry so much about upsetting the fragile balance of my family member, if I just don’t go too in depth or say too many things that seem too challenging, too judgmental, or whatever, about their issues.  Not that I’d say it as criticism or advice or even suggestions directly aimed at them anyway, but just like I said, if I made a blog or wrote letters or made a website or whatever like that and shared it with them, this is my life, my interests, and instead of expecting you to be interested I will just give this to you to do as you so choose, to read it, or not, to respond or not.  It’s not directed at you, just a depiction of my life, my life story, my interests, my passions, the things I’d share if I felt I could share, but since I don’t want it to be a burden or an obligation, since I feel like maybe I’m too far out on a limb for anyone to relate to all that much, I will just share it in this distant, kind of detached way.  

If you really want to talk and enjoy responding to what I say, maybe we can find new things to talk about but if not we already talk a lot, every once in a blue moon, which is enough for me.  This is just throwing this out there, just in case we can be even closer than we are (We are now already close in this rarely talking but I trust and love you so much kind of way, even if we don’t need to talk much, maybe couldn’t find anything to talk about in common.  But we’re there if things fall apart, or if we just have to vent to someone.  That kind of “close-ish” family relationship type of thing).  

And I know that if I did that my views, my values will be confrontational and challenging to them, because they have expressed such extreme sensitivity and offense and misunderstandings over other people that I know they would see my views in the same way and they have told me they stew in rage and self-loathing and bitterness and feeling abandoned over the littlest of things.  I know it’s fragile and yet I feel like if I just keep things very low-key, simple and only  occasionally hint little bits of what might be considered “too positive”, or “too simple”, or “too spiritual” or too cool and aloof, too detached, or too whatever it is, too judgmental, that they might read and distort and misinterpret me to mean...  

Then I think I can write these things.  I just have to carefully weigh each word, even when I’m putting it in this detached, distant space that is not directed at them, but just my own thoughts.  My relative needs someone to help them somehow, and they are not willing to reach out or look for help in many places at all, so I’m one of the very very extreme few people (or maybe the only person) who is in a position to help them.  The only other person they are very open to is just as stuck in the same mental condition they also have and so I don’t have any real hopes for them to help.  

I don’t feel the best qualified to help myself.  I’m not always the most optimistic or the most encouraging or the most good at compliments and cheering people up and framing things in this really friendly, kind, gentle, uplifting way.  I try m y best but it seems that it just flies by me and I’m oblivious.  I see others responding in much more helpful ways but I don’t even understand how they do it or what they’re doing but I just see that it’s much more uplifting and encouraging and validating and enthusiastic and whatever.  More insightful, clear and well-articulated, more helpful, and so many different things I see many do much better than me, when it comes to cheering up people or helping people who are down and troubled.  

 My main strength, I think, is that I don’t judge and expect too much, and I’m actually not overly optimistic, not unrealistically, so, and not overly simplistic, because I’ve been there myself.  Yet because I’ve overcome things in this really weird and difficult way, sometimes what I say sounds too simple and easy, but it’s not.  It’s just so simple it’s hard to trust and be willing to try (and others may need other things but my case was not and is not minor and if it worked for me, it can work for some of the worst cases of depression, which mine was one of the worst my former psychiatrist, an expert in the region, said he’d seen, in his many years of treating people.  He expected I might be depressed all my life).  It’s not that I needed only simple things to help, because what helps me is elaborate and complex, many-layered, immense, and even still, fragile, and only healing but not curing me,...  But parts of what have helped me the most are very simple and sound dismissive to some people, but it’s not.  

Anyway, maybe I can learn how to be more helpful and encouraging in ways I see others doing so much better than me.   But it’s just one more thing for me to try to figure out, when life feels like too much.  And when I can’t just wait before I act to figure it all out, because they need my help and care right now.  Though sometimes things change much more quickly than you would ever expect, once you have the right information and take the right actions to grow, improve and change yourself.  So I am hopeful.  And I ask God for help, as ever.  Yet when I wrote all this about my relative on this blog, things seemed to change, and I noticed and felt like reading that book though before I’d had it on the shelf for months and it felt hopeless, worthless, but suddenly I saw it differently.  Something about blogging, what is it, it changes my feelings.  Maybe it’s some mysterious energy of people reading or maybe it’s something else, like my own consciousness reacting in new ways to the focused sort of social atmosphere and the endorphins of that or maybe it’s something else.  I wonder what it is.  

[5hfanfiction]

The Golden Rose - Chapter 10

The two girls parted their lips slowly. Neither of them wanted to lose the soft, warm sensation they were currently feeling on their lip, but both of them needed air. Lauren pulled her bottom lip in-between in her teeth and stared down at Camila’s plump lips.

Lauren didn’t know what got into her. Just earlier she was telling Normani how it didn’t feel right to just kiss her, but now she is standing inches away from the lips she just touched. She didn’t know what to think or how to feel. The only thing she really did know was how bad she wanted to kiss her again. Her thoughts were all over the place, but they quickly got interrupted when she heard a stifle laugh coming from the brown-eyed girl in front of her.

“Sorry,” Camila quickly replied before pulling her lips in.

“Don’t be,” Lauren said awkwardly as she ran her fingers through her thick hair. “I should go.”

“Lauren, stop,” Camila said as she reached out to grab Lauren’s hand. “I didn’t mean to laugh. This all just seems like a scene you’d only find in a book or something.”

“Oh,” Lauren said as she became flustered. 

“I liked it,” Camila said as leaned her weight against her doorframe. 

“You did?” Lauren asked, perking up. 

“I don’t lie, but geez, you should’ve gotten me food or something first,” the brown-eyed girl teased. 

“I got you some snacks before I came,” Lauren admitted. “I wasn’t sure if I should bring them up or not, so I ended up leaving them in my car." 

"What did you get me?”

“Come with me and find out." 

"I hope this isn’t some devious plan of yours to kidnap me,” Camila said as she placed the bouquet down on the kitchen counter. She slipped on a pair of black Adidas slides and grabbed her keys before following behind Lauren. 

“It’s not kidnapping if you come willingly.”

“Stop being smart,” Camila huffed as they walked down the long hallway to the elevator. 

“Isn’t smart attractive?”

“Shush,” Camila said as she pressed the down button. “So what snacks did you bring me?”

“I told you, you’ll see when we get down there,” Lauren answered as the bell to elevator rang. 

“Why must you make me wait? You didn’t wait to kiss me.”

Lauren blushed at Camila’s comment as she stepped onto the elevator. She didn’t know exactly how to reply to it. Thankfully Camila started talking again.

“So what exactly does this make us? Are we together? Was it a one time thing? Or is it just complicated?”

Lauren thought about it for a second before replying. “We’ll see.”

“We’ll see?” Camila questioned.

“Yeah,” Lauren replied as they walked off the elevator and towards Lauren’s car. She unlocked her car door and held it open for Camila. “Get in.”

“Get in?!”

“Yeah,” Lauren nodded. “Get in. I’m taking you on a date.”

“Lauren, I’m not dressed to go out. Everything about me is a literal mess right now.”

“You look beautiful to me and that’s all that matters. Now please get your butt in the car.”

Camila decided to keep her mouth shut and slid into the passenger seat. Lauren shut the door behind her and walked around to her side of the car. She slid into her seat and handed Camila a few candy bars and a small bag of Chex mix she had bought earlier. 

“These are for you, but don’t eat them yet because I don’t want you spoiling your lunch.”

“Thanks,” Camila smiled as she looked down at her favorite candies in her hand; Twix, KitKats, and Twizzlers.

“You’re welcome,” Lauren said, glancing over at Camila for a split second before focusing on backing out of her parking spot.

“Where are you taking me for lunch?”

“McDonalds,” Lauren replied as she waited for her turn to turn onto the main road.

“Yummy,” Camila replied sarcastically with a slight laugh. 

“I’m being serious.”

“Okay Lauren.”

“You think I’m joking, don’t you?”

“I do. You couldn’t possibly take a girl to McDonald’s for the first date.”

“I can and I am.”

Camila went along with it until she watched as Lauren pulled into the McDonald’s parking lot. The smile on her face quickly turned into a straight face. She was waiting for Lauren to circle around the parking lot and tell her she was kidding, but instead Lauren pulled into one of the empty parking spots. 

“I’ll let you pick something off the main menu instead of the value menu.”

“Oh, how sweet of you,” Camila joked as they stepped out of the car. 

Their date to McDonald’s was more fun than Camila anticipated besides the part where Lauren ate all ten of the fries that came with her chicken nugget Happy Meal. They eventually found themselves tangled up on Camila’s couch where they continued having their random, but fun conversation while sneaking in a few kisses here and there.

“We have a field trip coming up,” Lauren said, breaking the silence between them. She wrapped Camila’s black locks around her finger and steadily watched as she continued the conversation. “Are you excited?”

“Well it depends on who is in my group.”

“Who do you want in your group?”

“Maybe we should start with who I don’t want in my group.”

“The trouble twins?” Lauren asked, knowing full well how no one wants both of them in a group.

“That sounds horrible when you said it out loud.”

“It does,” Lauren nodded as she unwrapped Camila’s hair from her finger before she rewrapped it. “I was thinking of splitting them up because they’re a completely different people when they’re away from each other. It all depends on if their mother comes. She’s one of those twin moms that hates having them separated from each other no matter how much we tell her that it will benefit everyone gratefully. Why else do you think they sit next to each other when we do table work? It’s painful not being able to separate them.”

“She signed up on the parent volunteer list, so I take it they won’t be separated and I don’t want them or her,” Camila said as she pulled away from Lauren slightly to flip herself around. Her head gently laid against Lauren’s breast and the rhythm of her heartbeat gave Camila the completeness that she didn’t know was missing. 

“She won’t come. She’ll sign up and you can choose her, but I know better than to choose her. I’ve learned from Ally that she won’t show up." 

"I thought you put her on the schedule?”

“I did to make her happy, but I also have backup care just in case.”

“You’re prepared,” Camila laughed slightly as she reached up and ran the back of her fingers against Lauren’s jawline. 

“You have to be. You never know what will happen and you don’t want to risk things when you’re dealing with other people’s children,” Lauren replied as she stared down into Camila’s memorizing eyes. “You should’ve been there last year. Lucy called out at the last minute because she was hungover and we were short on parent chaperones, so as you could imagine I had my hands full with trying to not only keep track of my class but Lucy’s class as well." 

"I really don’t know what you saw in her,” Camila admitted honestly. From the few stories she heard of Lucy - mostly from Dinah and Diane - she sounded like a horrible person. She has yet to hear anything positive about the girl. 

“I’m really not sure either. All she ever was, was a mere crush and a friend. I was never in love with her no matter how hard I tried to tell myself I am. The night she was killed-”

“You don’t have to go into that, Laur,” Camila said, stopping the green-eyed girl from going into the tragedy. The last thing she wanted was for Lauren to be triggered again. 

“I want to talk about it,” Lauren assured. She was never a very open person and never talked in detailed about the tragedy, even to people she’s know her entire life. With Camila, everything felt natural. She felt the comfort and security that she never felt from other people. “I lost a best friend that night. Watching someone die in front of you fucks you up in ways no one knows unless they’ve gone through it. Nobody knows that though. They all think I heard about her death while in the hospital.”

“Have you tried to tell anybody?” Camila asked curiously before stopping herself, afraid of crossing any line. “Wait, don’t answer that.”

“I haven’t,” Lauren answered as she used her right hand to cup Camila chiseled face. It felt like an elephant had been lifted off her chest and she could finely breathe again. “I attempted to tell Ally one time, but I wasn’t ready. Besides, I hate bothering her with my problems.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t mind. She the most sincere, welcoming person I ever met. On my first day she greeted me with a basket full of chocolate and a bear hug. It was quite the welcome." 

"That’s Ally,” Lauren laughed. “She’s everyone’s favorite. Honestly, if it weren’t for her and Brent the three-year-old room would have a lot less children.”

“Brent is a quiet one." 

Over the past month of working at the school, Camila only had one conversation with the blue-eyed boy. The conversation only consisted of two sentences because Camila was in a rush to get the snacks into the classroom. Since then, Camila has only seen him in passing or if she’s over at Lauren’s place. 

"He’s pretty reserved,” Lauren nodded in agreement. “I don’t really know much about him either except for the fact he was friends with Lucy. They were actually kinda close, probably even dated a time or two. She never really disclosed on the matter but you could tell. Everyone could tell,” Lauren said, pursing her lips before continuing. “Lucy once told me he was placed into a foster home right before kindergarten due to his mother overdosing while he was in the car. Then during sometime in second grade his foster family adopted him and they were this picture perfect family. He doesn’t talk much about his foster family, it’s kind of a sore subject. All I know is he doesn’t talk to them anymore. I don’t know what happened to tarnish their relationship. A part of me is curious and the other part is telling me to respect his boundaries. He moved in with us after Lucy’s death for a number of reasons. He’s a strange dude, but I like him. We all like to call him our big brother even though he’s the second youngest." 

Camila didn’t know how to respond after hearing a story like that. Is there even an appropriate response after hearing someone’s hardships? Everything that came to mind was a cliché response others say for empathy, but it never seems to help the ones struggling.

"Just try to keep talking to him. He’s also very shy and hardly strikes up a conversation with anyone. He’s really amazing once you get to know him,” Lauren shared. “I feel like you two would easily become friends and make my life a living hell,” she laughed. 

“It’s fun messing with you,” Camila smirked as she slowly pushed herself up. She was now hovering over the green-eyed girl with only inches separating their lips. 

“Camz,” Lauren gulped as she her eyes moved from Camila’s sparkling brown eyes down to her luscious plumped lips. 

“Yes?”

“Kiss me.”

Camila slowly lowered her head down until her lips were nearly centimeter away. Lauren’s heart felt like a cannon waiting to explode as Camila came closer. She never wanted anything from anybody as bad as she wanted a kiss from Camila right now. With a smirk still on her lips, Camila dodged Lauren’s lips and started placing various kisses all over Lauren’s face. 

“Camila,” Lauren whined as she tried to move her head away. “I want a kiss on my lips.”

“Yes babe.”

“Woah, Camilita, what have I told you about having sex on my couch,” Diane said as she caught Lauren and Camila mid kiss.

“We-we-we weren’t,” Camila stammered as she rolled off Lauren.

“Calm down little sis,” Diane laughed as she grabbed the pitcher of sweet tea out of the fridge. “I see you found your girl, Lauren.”

“Uh, yeah, I did,” Lauren replied as she pushed herself up. 

“It’s about time,” Diane said, grabbing a cup out of cupboard and filling it to the brim with tea. “Well I’ll let you two go back to whatever you were doing, but if you’re going to have sex at least take it to your room.”

“Bye Diane,” Camila said throwing a pillow at her sister. 

“Be careful Lauren. She’s a little rough,” Diane said as she kicked the pillow away and disappeared into her room. 

“Sisters are so annoying,” Camila groaned as she climbed back onto the couch. “Now where were we?”

“Camz, you don’t think she’s going to tell anybody do you?” Lauren asked as she lightly pushed Camila away. 

Lauren’s not embarrassed of Camila or whatever their relationship may be, but the thought of unnecessary rumors flying around work scared her. She wanted to keep her next relationship private, and with Diane knowing, that private relationship she desires won’t be as private.

“Nothing that nobody already doesn’t know. All we were doing was kissing, but if you’re really that worried I can talk to her,” Camila said, trying to bring comfort.

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk to her.”

“You sure?” Camila questioned, feeling Lauren was still a bit uncomfortable.

“I’m sure,” Lauren said as she lowered herself back down onto the couch.

“Now where were we?”

—

Hi guys!

Sorry this took me forever to update. I’ve been busy with school, work, and other personal problems which delayed my writing. I’m back though and slowly working on more updates. 

I hope you have a super, amazing, wonderful day/night!

- Ashley 

wattpad - iloveyou1234566

[jeanntonic]

10 things I live by.

1. Everything happens for a reason.

You’ve probably heard this a million times but things really do happen for a reason. 

It could be people in your life, experiences you’ve had, they all happened for a reason. Life, it’s free flowing, things will not always go your way and sometimes you just have to suck it up and deal with it but know that it happened for a reason even if it may not seem like it at that particular point in time. 

If you’ve been through a breakup, you probably will resonate with this idea (well at least I did). Exes are exes for a reason. No matter how tough that breakup was, how many buckets of tears you’ve shed, how many classes you’ve skipped because all you wanted to do was sit in bed and cry while listening to Ed Sheeran, you will soon realise how much stronger you’ve become leaving it behind. It’s at these lowest points in life that you blossom and grow. 

Good or bad, it happened for a reason; You either sulk at the bad experiences or learn and grow from it.

"I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together."

-- Marilyn Monroe

2. Find joy in the little things in life.

Step out, feel the warmth of the sun on your face, be happy that it is sunny. 

Turn on the tap, fill your bath, listen to music, enjoy a glass of wine.

Put on your favourite face mask, blast some music, dance to the beat of the music on your kitchen floor. 

Unwind, lie down, and close your eyes. 

3. Don’t waste your time/ energy on people who aren’t worth it. 

You have way too much to get done in a day for you to spend time on people who don’t deserve your time. 

‘Do they spark joy?’ - Marie Kondo 

Friendships/ Relationships are a two way street, it takes two to tango. Relationships in life will only work out if BOTH of you decide to put in the effort. Relationships are hard work- both of you need to be willing to open up and be vulnerable to each other, it won’t work if it’s one sided and remember that communication is KEY. 

Life is too short for you to be spending time on people who do not contribute to your wellbeing. It’s easier said than done but if they don’t add value to your life, please do yourself a favour and shimmy out that door. Don’t spend time on shallow conversations or friendship, there are only so many “small talks” you can have until it becomes boring and repetitive. Build relationships that are worthy of your time, give your time to those who bring joy to your life. Spend it on experiences that will better yourself, start investing in yourself, pick up a new skill, hit the gym. Be greedy when it comes to giving out your time.

4. Never beg for attention, especially not for love. 

This next point is pretty much a continuum of the previous point but hear me out. 

“Never beg someone to be with you. Never beg for attention, commitment, affection, time and effort. Never beg someone to come back or stay. You should never have to ask to feel wanted. If someone doesn’t willingly give you these things, with their arms wide open, they aren’t worth it. No one, under any circumstances, is ever worth begging for.”

If they want to leave, please just let them leave. If you’re important, they will make time, they will stay. Love should be shown, never begged for. You deserve someone who WANTS to be there for you, through thick and thin; someone who makes you feel safe at your lowest point. Someone who truly cares and loves you will treat you as their priority and will make time for you.

5. Everyone’s definition of success is different. 

Some people may want to be a millionaire by the age of 30, while some would just want to be happy. The definition of success is subjective for everyone. However, many usually associate success with their level of career achievement, financial independence/ stability to support their family etc. It is important to recognize that everyone has a different definition of success in mind and know that it’s important to never compare yourself to someone else. Make sure that you don’t associate your “success” with your self worth. It’s so easy to get swayed and influenced by social media these days where you see someone your age earning a huge amount of money. It’s so easy to want to be like them. Please know that wealth isn’t the only definition of success. If you’re working hard everyday and getting closer to your goals, you are successful. 

Focus on what is important to you then you will find your own definition of success. 

6. Be a lifelong learner.

Have you ever had your parents tell you “you should always be applying what you’re learning in class outside of class”? Well my dad tells me that every single time we facetime. 

We always (or at least I) feel like school can be dreadful at most times but it’s important to know that these information that we are absorbing is helping us excel and grow into a better and more knowledgeable person. Instead of just trying to do well on exams (which most of us would love to), try incorporating the skills and material you’ve learnt in class into your life, you’ll find class to be way more interesting and beneficial to your learning as a whole. 

Ever wanted to start a Youtube channel or learn how to code? Ever been too afraid to do it? Just do it. Every single day of your life is an opportunity for you to learn something new, for you to step out of your comfort zone and do something you’ve always wanted to do. Be a constant learner, educate yourself on new concepts and ideas and never stop learning. 

7. No paper is worth your insanity.

Sometimes, it’s so important to know that enough is enough. You need your sleep, it’s time to put that stubborn ass of yours down and go to bed. Yes, to a certain extent, your GPA is important but instead of crunching numbers and memorising facts, allow yourself time to absorb the information that you’ve been learning. If you’re breaking down because of a test you’re having the next day, please allow yourself to step away, breathe, take a break and come back to it when you feel better. Forcing all that information into your head isn’t going to benefit your learning. 

8. You only can start loving others when you start loving yourself, or at least like yourself. 

You can constantly have someone tell you how beautiful you are but if you start telling yourself that, you’ll never think that you’re beautiful enough or good enough. 

Be kind to yourself. Yes, there definitely will be days where your insecurities hit you and you start questioning yourself but that shouldn’t become a routine. Know that you are worthy and that you’re enough. 

9. Take care of your body, take care of your skin.

I always tell myself that you’re gonna live with that body of yours for the rest of this life, might as well take good care of it. 

Invest in your body. Fuel it with the good stuff, eat your vegetables and not those nasty oily stuff that clogs your arteries and pores. Trust me, your body will thank you so much for that. 

Have a good skincare routine. It is important to know what products are the best for your skin type, so spend some time doing your research. Slap on a face mask at least once every week, it will only do good for your skin. 

10. Don’t assume.

You never know what someone is going through. They can put on a tough face but fear could be consuming them inside. Be kind and be generous with your compliments. Everyone is going through some sort of shit so just please be kinder to the people around you. Be mindful of your words and actions because what you say/ do has the ability to hurt others tremendously.

When we make assumptions, we instinctively believe that what we  assume is the truth, and we often take things too personally then blow it out of proportion when it may not even be the truth. We make assumptions, we misunderstand, the stories that we make up in our head causes the unnecessary drama that could have been avoided. 

Instead of assuming, try being open and accepting of others and their ideas. You’ll find yourself in a happier place, I promise you. 

[imagine-it-like-this]

Title: Talking Dirty Relationships: Rowena/reader Genres: Romance

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Being cursed by a witch while on a hunt was nothing new for me.

Having the truth curse cast on me, however, was something completely different.

It was Castiel who found me wandering the streets, yelling at random passersby the first things that came into my mind at the sight of them – which happened to be quite offensive, prompting a few to start a small mob that chased me all the way over to Castiel's car, which provided a safe refuge from the shouting, grocery-throwing people.

The angel was confused, especially after I started saying some rather inappropriate things about my daydreams involving him, his trench coat, and his tie, but after I explained the situation, he was more than willing to help. He called the Winchesters and was told to bring me straight to the bunker. Apparently, they knew just the right person to fix it.

"You know, Castiel, you'd look so much better without that shirt on," I said, hating every word that came out of my mouth.

The angel was visibly uncomfortable, and my constant dirty comments about him, the Winchesters, and even Crowley, comments that even demon Dean would have disapproved of, all the way over to the bunker only made the situation worse.

The moment I walked through the heavy door, Castiel breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have finally gotten rid of me.

One other person wasn't so lucky.

Sam and Dean greeted me in the hall, beside them a tiny, red-haired figure bearing a sweet smile that was so unlike her usual snide ones.

My heart swelled with delight at the sight of her, my eyes absorbing the every bit of beauty radiating from her gorgeous form. Rowena was dressed in black and red, her attire clinging to her body like it was made specifically for her, the elegant fabric hugging her delicious curves in all the right ways, exactly the way I liked it. Her dark heels made her appear a tad taller, though she was still nowhere near as tall as me.

That only made her more appealing. There was something about her being so tiny that made her all the more delectable.

"Hello, dear," she said, giving me a small wave.

The brothers and Castiel had a rather turbulent past with her; past full of attempted murder and botched spells, all of which seemed to have been forgotten by now after she'd joined them in defeating Amara and helped Dean regain his stolen memories.

I, on the other hand, had no such encounters with the witch. We've exchanged a few snarky comments, but there was nothing to our relationship that could even hint at hostility. I used to bring her food and tea when the Winchesters would capture her, reassuring her that they would release her instead of killing her and promising that I would personally see to it that they do as they'd said, and in turn she'd tell me stories about her life on the run and teach me a few life-saving spells that ended up being quite useful in times of need.

She never even looked at me threateningly, let alone did anything to harm me. She treated me like I treated her, and that was part of the reason I fell in love with her.

I mean, what was not to love?

She was hot, always dressed impeccably, had the best quips, and her hair was the most beautiful reddest red I had ever seen. She could drive me crazy with her voice alone, that accent of hers always a welcome melody to my ears.

I smiled at her, hoping my truth-bound mouth wouldn't reveal something I'd regret later on.

All my hopes and dreams were crushed a mere second later when I meant to say a shy "hi", but what came out was a rather confident: "You look so hot right now."

Rowena raised a curious eyebrow, while Sam and Dean exchanged glances that said this turn of events didn't surprise them as much as it should have. I guess I should have tried harder to hide my true feelings around them.

Not that it would have helped me much right now.

"I mean, you always look hot," I continued, digging myself deeper, "but those colors?" I whistled like Dean did to waitresses when he was drunk. "Damn, girl! You're smokin'!"

A moment of uncomfortable silence ensued, with Sam and Castiel looking back and forth between me and the wall which, for some reason, they found rather interesting, while Dean just grinned at me like a proud older brother.

I expected Rowena to be offended, but she looked rather amused by my comments. Her lips curled into a smirk, eyes looking me up and down the same way mine did her.

"The curse's got ye good, I see," she commented.

"Can you fix it?" Sam inquired.

Now she looked offended, shooting him a glare that had surely killed before. "Who do ye think ye're talkin' to, Samuel? Of course I can fix it!"

"Do it soon, please," I said, then my mouth went into honesty mode again, spewing out: "Do me soon."

"Temptin', but I'm gonna have to decline," she quipped.

Any other time rejection would have hurt me, but now it was a blessing.

"I can pay you," I offered, immediately regretting it, especially after seeing the look on her face. "I'm sorry. I'm trying, but I can't stop. I don't really mean that."

Only yes, I did. I meant every single thing. I wanted her more than anything in the world. I craved her like a predator craves its prey, desired her in ways I've never desired anyone before.

"I'm not trying to be rude to you, I swear."

"No need to apologize," she told me, then turned back to Sam and Dean. "Ye lads have a private room I could use for the spell?"

"You sure?" Sam asked, taking in the look of pure lust spread across my shame-stricken face.

"Don't ye worry about me, Samuel. She won't hurt me."

"Unless you want me to," I said, sending her a grin and wiggling my eyebrows suggestively.

Rowena chuckled. "She's harmless."

"She's a hunter," Dean pointed out.

"One who is obviously smitten with me. I'll be fine."

"Okay, fine," Sam gave in, pointing to the end of the hall. "The last one on the left."

"Thank ye."

"Does this mean we get to be alone?" I beamed. "You gonna fuck me?"

"I'm goin' to have to disappoint ye on that one, darlin'."

I pouted, then thought up a compromise. "You can always let me fuck you."

"The answer is still no." She walked over to me, taking me by the forearm. "Come now. Let's fix ye up."

"I come for you all the time!" I said, instantly hating myself for it. "You're so hot. I like to imagine–"

"Please, don't finish that thought," she said, while Dean snorted, prompting Rowena to shoot him a deadly glare.

"I wish I could stop, but I can't," I whined.

"That's what I'm here for, dear," she assured me. "Just relax."

"Relax. Yeah. Sure. I can do that."

I took a deep breath in hopes it would help.

It didn't.

"Y'know, I started watching redhead porn because of you."

Dean grinned like a child at a supermarket. "It's good, isn't it?"

"The best!" I exclaimed, happy to have found someone who shared my interests.

If only those interests remained in the safety of my head.

I could tell Rowena was trying her hardest to ignore my remarks, but there were well hidden traces of discomfort on her face. When this was all over, I told myself, I was going to take her out to dinner and apologize for my vile behavior. Out of everyone, she was the one who least deserved it. She's always been nothing but kind to me, and the things I've said to her today would haunt me for the rest of my life.

Willingly or not, that was no way to treat a person you loved.

She deserved better.

"Your hair…" I took a strand to inspect it, playing with it like a curious kitten. "It's so…"

"Bouncy, I know," she said, smiling as she lead me into the lone room and closed the door behind us.

"Bouncy," I agreed. "I want to grab it and pull it really hard and have you scream my name as I fuck you."

"That is quite an elaborate fantasy," she noticed.

"I thought about it a lot."

"I can see that."

"A lot."

"Yes, I gathered that."

"A really, really lot. Like, every day when I'm in the bath and every morning before I get up."

"I get it," she said firmly.

My face fell, tears prickling at my eyes. "I'm so sorry, Rowena. I can't stop."

Her expression softened. "I know, dear." She patted my back in comfort. "It's not yer fault."

"Isn't it? I do mean those things. I just don't want to say them out loud. I'm so sorry for being so nasty to you, but everything I said is how I really feel. You're hot. You turn me on. Every time I look at you, the only thing I can think about is how I want to pin you against the nearest wall and have my way with you."

"We all have our desires," she said in a fake casual tone, attempting to remain calm, but I could see that my confession shook her to the core. She put her bag atop the desk and started picking out the ingredients for the spell. "Some of us are better at keepin' them to ourselves than others."

What was that supposed to mean? Was it possible that she felt something for me? Could she have loved me like I loved her?

That's impossible, my sanity said, remembering all those times she'd made it clear she could love nothing and no one, yet my heart swelled with joy at the thought of the possibility that her feelings matched mine.

"So you love me?" I said before I could stop myself – though I doubted it was even worth a try. It would have come out whether I wanted it to or not.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't deny it, either."

She was quick to change the subject. "The potion is ready," she announced. "I just need to cast the incantation."

"You didn't answer my question," I prodded.

"I'm busy."

Yup, she was definitely hiding something. There had to have been more than she was willing to let on. I couldn't blame her. Rowena was an old soul, used to betrayal and solitude. It was only natural that she wanted to hide her vulnerabilities for everyone she'd ever come across had tried to use them against her.

Except for me. I have, and would, never hurt her like that, never used her or abused her. I loved her exactly the way she was, with all her quirks and flaws. I would rather die than do anything to harm her.

My eyes fell upon the lone, dusty bed standing by the wall, and if I were an anime character, they would have morphed into shiny, glittery hearts.

"I wanna handcuff you to this bed," I said, thinking of ways to make her even busier.

"And I want a treasure chest," Rowena deadpanned.

"If I get you one, will you let me handcuff you to the bed?"

"No."

It was worth a try.

"You sound so hot when you speak Latin, you know that?" I said as she began to read from her spell book.

She shot me an amused glance, prompting me to giggle like a schoolgirl with a crush. Which wasn't that far from what I actually was.

"If we had sex, I'd want you to dirty talk me in Latin."

Now this made her chuckle.

"I thought French was the language of love," she commented, putting the book back in her bag as she finished the spell.

I huffed. "I hate French. So overrated."

"Perhaps," she allowed, walking over to me and holding up the potion. "It's done. Ye ready?"

I took it from her, inspecting it. It was purple in color, like potions in movies about evil witches, the only thing missing being the thick, white vapor hovering over the surface. It smelled of honey mixed with mint, an unusual scent I found myself taking quite a liking to.

"Let me just say one more thing before I take this," I said, taking in a deep breath to prepare myself for the confession that would surely cause me issues once this whole honesty thing is done and over with.

Rowena looked reluctant. "I don't think–"

"I'm gonna say it," I cut her off. "I kinda can't stop."

She smiled tightly. "Right. Go on, then, dear."

"I love you, Rowena. I've loved you for… ages, it seems. At first I thought you were just another witch, but once I got to know you I realized you're so much more. I know you've done horrible things, but so have I. So has everyone. I love you in spite of everything. I don't care what you've done or what you'll do in the future. I really don't. All I care about is you. You're so hot and sweet and perfect and sexy and I can't help wanting you in ways I really shouldn't. You're it for me. I know you probably don't feel the same way, but I needed you to know."

With that I brought the potion to my lips, gulping the entirety of it down in one go.

I expected seizures or lights flickering or my body twisting into unnatural positions like bodies of possessed people did in exorcism movies, but in actuality, I felt nothing. The potion tasted sweet, reminding me of those tiny multivitamin juices my mom used to buy me when I was a kid, and a small pang of nostalgia clenched at my heart, but other than that, nothing.

Swallowing a huge lump that formed in my throat, I looked up to face Rowena once more. A look of fear crossed my features, slowly taken over by embarrassment. My cheeks flushed deep, bright red, matching the ruby hanging around her neck. What have I done? How could I have said all those things, out loud, to her face, all at once? How could I have even thought of such things?

Against my expectations, Rowena looked rather calm. Too calm for someone who'd just been professed love for by their friend.

"Rowena, I…"

She held up a hand. "Ye don't have to say anythin'."

"I really do." Though, I thought, I've probably said enough. "Like, a lot."

"Ye really don't," she insisted. "I–"

"I'm sorry," I cut her off.

The red of my cheeks brightened, as did my shame, and I started waving my hands around in wild gestures.

"I shouldn't have said any of that. I really do," I gulped, choking on my words, "love you, and I… I think you're hot and sweet and so fucking sexy, but I should've kept it to myself. You and I… we're friends. I'm not gonna ask for any favors or try to guilt you into anything. I know it – we – can never happen and it's fine. I'm okay with that. Can we, please, just act like nothing happened? We don't ever have to mention it again. Ever. I don't want to lose you as a friend."

"Lose me?" She looked genuinely surprised. "Darlin', what makes ye think I wanna leave ye?"

Confusion washed over my face as my heartbeat fastened, loudly thudding against my chest. Was it possible that I was right? That she really did feel something for me?

It couldn't be!

Rowena was a lovely creature, full of hidden depths and raw beauty, but she wasn't one to fall in love.

Was she?

"I'll admit, yer words took me aback a wee bit, but what ye said isn't exactly one-sided," she admitted. I could tell it took all of her willpower to get the words to leave her trembling lips. "When I met ye, I thought ye were like any other hunter. But ye've shown me kindness. Ye've stood by me when everyone else'd abandoned me, taken care of me when I've most needed ye. Remember when ye brought me tea when Samuel imprisoned me? That was when I started growing fond of ye."

I remembered that day very well. I'd told Sam it wasn't fair to trick her like that, to just leave her all alone in a damp room, but he'd insisted it was for the best. So I'd brought her a cup of tea and engaged in small talk as I'd sipped on my own cup, adamant in keeping her company. My first impression of her wasn't great, but seeing her caged up like that, all alone and miserable, made me feel bad for her. Nobody deserved to be treated like that, not even wicked witches such as her.

She'd praised my tea, and I'd started visiting her more often, bringing food and drinks. I'd talked to her, listened to what she'd had to say, something, according to her stories, not that many people had bothered to do. It was then that I'd started noticing her softer side, one she'd done her best to keep from the outside world. She'd stopped being attractive just on the outside – I'd began to see internal beauty matching the external one, and it didn't take long for me to fall in deep.

Even when she'd freed herself and cursed Castiel; even when she'd fallen for Lucifer, and later on joined Amara, that kind side of hers had never left my mind. Whenever I'd see her do something bad, I'd think of the Rowena only I had had the privilege of meeting – the girl who'd had nothing, but wanted everything; the girl betrayed by everyone she'd ever trusted; the girl who'd deserved so much better, yet had been refused a chance to prove herself.

In those few months I'd thought her dead, it felt as though my entire world had crumbled down and shattered into millions of pieces like fragile glass.

Seeing her again had brought me the greatest joy.

And now, saying those things to her brought everything back. The pain of losing her was real once again as dark thoughts flooded my mind, images of her angry face, of her back, of the door being slammed in my face flashing before my eyes.

To hear that she had feelings for me felt unreal. I expected for the fantasy to shatter at any moment, to be shaken awake into a cruel reality where I was alone and she went far away and wanted nothing to do with me anymore.

Lucky for me, this happened to be my reality. And in this one, Rowena was far from finished with me.

"Ye're a sweet girl, Y/N. I'm glad ye took the first step, even if ye were cursed, because I would've never been able to say this otherwise."

She sent me one of her rare warm smiles that could melt the coldest of hearts, one of those kind ones that made me fall for her.

"It's still not easy for me to admit this, but…" She swallowed, taking a breath to compose herself. "I love ye."

For a moment I've been waiting for for years, my response was a rather stupid: "You what?"

Rowena thinned her lips. "I love ye."

I blinked, still in shock.

"Shall I say it one more time?"

"No, it's fine," I said quickly, my breathing fastening. "I got it. I think."

To quote Castiel: I don't got it.

Rowena observed me, eyes trailing up and down my body before finally locking back with mine. "Say somethin'," she told me, visibly shaken by my reaction, frightened of what was to come.

"I…"

What was I supposed to say?

How does one acknowledge, in words, that their wildest dreams had just come true and their insides felt like they were on fire and their heart was beating so fast it could explode?

How does one put a storm of stirring emotions that arose suddenly, all at the same time, and burned in their head like wildfire, in words?

Instead of trying to come up with a good response, I said: "Can I kiss you?"

Rowena's beautiful smile widened. "Of course ye can!"

I pulled her to me, crashing my lips into hers. She tasted delicious, like fresh strawberries in the heart of Spring, sour around the edges, but sweet in her core. I've kissed plenty of people before – men and women – but none could compare to the perfection that was her. I wasn't certain whether it was her magic or nature, but the way she moved, hungered, claimed made my legs turn into jelly, my knees wobbling under the intense pressure of her kiss.

Wrapping my arms around her neck, I brought her closer, deepening the kiss. She was an experienced lover, and that was exactly what I needed – someone to lead, to take control and bring me to the very edge of absolute pleasure I so desperately craved.

"That was…" I whispered as we parted, both gasping for breath,

Rowena chuckled. "Intense."

"Yeah," I agreed. "You're very good at this."

"Ye're not so bad, yerself," she teased.

"I can be even better if you teach me."

She raised on her tiptoes and pressed her forehead against mine. "So ye wouldn't be opposed to this turnin' into somethin' more?"

"Are you kidding me?" My hands reached for hers, our fingers entwining into gentle knots. "I'd want nothing more."

She sighed in relief. "Good."

I pulled on a small smile. "Thank you, Rowena."

"What for?"

"Removing the curse."

"It was nothin', darlin'."

"I appreciate it."

"I know ye do. Kiss me again, will ye? Let us seal this deal."

Without another word, I did as she asked, immersing myself into the warmth of her lips.

I finally got my girl, I thought, my insides burning with delight like a thousand eternal fires. After years of wanting her, Rowena was mine. Who would have thought all I had to do was dirty talk her under a curse?

Huge thanks to my friend @apritelleorai! I always go to her for grammar help, and she's really done a lot for me in regards to this story. Thank you for being patient and putting up with my constant grammar-related inquiries. You’re the best!

[becoming-bianca-blog]

Module 3: Identity is so confusing

Writing this blog post 3 weeks left in this semester, I am honestly SO proud of myself. I think I managed to do the impossible. Impossible, that’s how I would describe Module 3 :D (that’s a sarcastic smiley face, clearly I’m still recovering from that long test)

Often mentioning the theories of identity formation in Module 2, this module offered a more relational perspective on identity. Describing identity as also a product of socio-cultural factors including ones peer and parental relationships the and deepening this with 

This module was very relevant, especially in its discussion and dissection of gender stereotypes and the importance of consent and proper use of the internet, so even if I think I did not do well in my test I know that I learned something. 

The first topic was on identity development in family relationships. With this in mind, I will be constructing my own individuation timeline as well as posting a picture of me as a child and now not just to highlight how transient or alive identity is. 

Me as a child: 

Me now: 

From my choice of photos alone, you’ll see how much has changed. When I was a child, it was easy to think of my self as just an extension of my parents who needed to eat, walk, talk, go to school, and look cute. Now, it’s hard to think of myself without thinking of my family, my friends, my interests and more as I truly adapt different identities when I am with each of these. 

Next is my individuation timeline as seen below. 

In infancy, my parents saw me as their biggest responsibility and  they could not part from me especially as they had all the resources and means needed to keep me safe and alive. With that, I saw my parents as my sources of life and survival while I, on the other hand, had no coherent sense of self yet— just someone attached to my parents especially my mother. In toddlerhood, I experienced my first individuation. Here, I began to let go of my infantile attachments. I still saw my my parents as great sources of love, support, knowledge, and protection but I knew I did not need them to survive as I could feed myself, use the toilet by myself, and more. With that, I saw myself as the little angel of my parents who always made them happy and I think my parents saw me in that way too. Childhood was no different as I deeply idealised my parents, I saw them as my superheroes, my greatest sources of information, and wanted to be just like my dad. They saw me as their carbon copy often saying things like “just like mommy/daddy.” Thus, I saw myself as an extension of my parents who I needed to obey so I could be rewarded and be perfect just like them. Come adolescence, my second individuation began to unfold. At around 11 years old, I de-idealised my parents and no longer saw them as perfect. With that, I saw myself as unique not just from my parents but also from my siblings. I had different talents, different interests, and values from them so I think my parents were beginning to see me as an individual and not just their puppet. Lastly, as this individuation still continues I am now beginning to see my parents, specifically my mom, as my friend and myself as a work in progress. In terms of how my parents see me, I think my mom sees me as a friend too as she is not afraid to confide in me and I am able to see her vulnerabilities. Together, we talk about boys, school, the past, woes, failures, doubts— stuff I cannot talk to about with my dad, which my mom also says she cannot do sometimes. As my dad is less expressive, I think he still sees me as his baby but I still respect him even if I cannot see him as an equal yet. Thus from this exercise, I saw clearly that I am not my parents. In fact, a healthy parent-child relationship is one where the parent nurtures and supports the child into becoming his or her own person while still humbling them and reminding them to be good. With this in mind, I am willingly going to continue to reconnect and renew my relationship with my parents, talk to them more, and work towards equality so we can have even more meaningful and deep interactions. 

The next topic was on identity construction in peer relationships and digital spaces. With this being said, the best way for me to express all I have learned is through memes :> 

First, my friends. My friends are so important to me and I am so thankful to have them in my life as they never cease to put a smile on my face. Moving to a co-ed school in senior high, my group of friends expanded but I still kept my friends from Woodrose close to me. In these two settings, the common denominator about myself is that I’m the funny one in my friend group as well as the butt of the joke. My girl squad in Woodrose was full of intelligent and supportive girls, we often traded books, had deep conversations, and confided in each other about our doubts, pressures, and failures. They formed the part of my identity that is hardworking, introspective, and empathetic. In Beacon, I met new people who loosened me up a bit and introduced me to different kinds of fun like parties, spontaneous dinners, and odd conversations at Denny’s until 3 AM. There, I could goof around in class especially because of the boys who were always rowdy. With the girls, they introduced me to fashion, boy talk, makeup, and fun self care luxuries like getting a facial while still reminding me that I could be real with them and show sadness, fear, and guilt. They made me the online shopping addict today as well a go-to person for advice, ranting and a hug. They made me see that doing things that were conventionally girly did not mean you were conceited or an airhead and I have become an open-minded and less judgemental person because of them. Now, in college, I brought a lot of my high school friends with me. So these two crowds, the brains and the international school kids (we have all bonded over this) are who I still affiliate with. I have yet to find a new crowd here but I don’t think I would stray from each type of crowd as I do not really wanna step out of my comfort zone. To put this into words, here is a meme: 

With the first meme out of the way, I can proudly post these three low-budget but very accurate memes about my online and offline identity. 

Here, you practically hear me proclaim that I am somewhat of a comedian myself on Facebook where I share the FUNNIEST memes.

Here, I expose what a mess I am on another social media site. On twitter, I am either really really sad or really really ready to preach, be inspirational, and make a change. Nonetheless, my followers are my closest friends and they are endlessly supportive, ready to either cheer me on or cheer me up. Here, I’m more comfortable to reveal my vulnerabilities because my parents and relatives are not on it and I would hate for them to get worried about me. 

To sum this all up, here is a meme on my online vs offline identity:  

Online, I am more unrestrained, showing more of my cheeky and makulit personality, and vocal about a lot of things. Offline, I’m like a sponge that likes to observe, more refined and mahinhin. This describes the shy side of myself when in social situations so I’m thankful for social media as it gives me an avenue to share the side of myself that is loud and crazy but funny to watch. 

The last topic was on gender and sexuality. First, I was able to discover the different facets and faces of my gender through filling out the Genderbread Person. My worksheet is attached below: 

Easily, I can conclude that I am not either/or just like gender. Filling this out, I struggled in the element of gender expression. I suddenly remembered that when I was in Woodrose, my teachers always told me that I slouch like a man and sit like a man. Out of their eyesight, I would respond by assuming an even more male-like stance and I could not help it because I was comfortable that way. When I dress up, my expression depends on my mood. Sometimes I wanna be a girly girl and feel the swing of my dress when I walk and sometimes, I do not care at all and find it more comfortable to dress like a man- I even use my brothers clothes a lot, especially to sleep. These examples alone point to a very important understanding on gender and even sexual orientation  which is that there are truly infinite possibilities. Moreover, being one does not relate to being another so we cannot judge a person on simplistic norms such as how they express themselves. 

I recognize in myself that I am not just one or the other so with this, I know that I have the right to respect all even if society tells me different or I have a hard time understanding. In fact, gender shouldn’t even be something one dissects so much because it is so flexible and has many facets that are independent of eachother. I can even relate this understanding to sex and sexuality.  In gender,  we are conditioned to think that it is always either/or and this extends even to sexuality where as a woman you are either a virgin who is uptight or a slut who is cheap. In both situations, you cannot win and it is hard for me to believe that there are still some people that cannot accept that humans are so complicated and unfit to be reduced to 2 extremes. However, I cannot say that my views are perfect either. I have always adapted a broader view on sexuality, recognizing the plight of the LGBTQ+ community but even then I was scared to question if I was more male than female. In my mind, it was hard to imagine myself or allow myself to be more male-like because of my socialization. When it came to sex, this was even more skewed.  A touchy subject, I came from an Opus Dei exclusive for girls school so sex equaled taboo. Before this class, I never even had an in-depth discussion on sex that attacked all sides, especially one that dared to say that a womqns sexuality is not to be hidden, but instead explored. Before this class, I always succumbed to the women who have sex are sluts belief while still agreeing with the “men are trash” statement. How could I blame the male while clearly perpetrating the culture of victim blaming? Clearly, I had some internalized misogyny and cognitive dissonance that I was able to tap into with the discussion. I now see another side of it, which is that I have been conditioned and socialized to punish women and glorify men for sexual behaviour and expression. In its own nature, there is nothing wrong about and nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to sex. In fact, most of the bad things associated with sex come from a lack of awareness so I know now that it is important to ask the right questions. Such include: what birth control method is best, how to respond to the spread of private nude pics online, what is consent, how do I give consent and more. In terms of self-expression then, I can do whatever I want within the limits of my own comfort. If I think wearing shorts to school is but if I refuse to wear a lace bralette to a bar, that is fine too. It doesn’t mean that if other women do not express themselves, such as in the way they dress, the same way as I do that they are “sluts” or not worthy of the same respect. Simply, this just means we have different modes on self-expression and levels of comfort. 

With all of this being said, I was clearly able to explore the inner nuances of my identity given this module. Nearing the end of the semester, I am so exhausted but am going to try my best to power through it. I think this is the second to the last if not last blog post I have to write before passing the final project. I look forward to reading my past blog posts and see how far I’ve come (including the likely grammatical errors I’ve made as I never proofread these. again, I’m sorry) and if I’ve made any meaningful connections and observations about myself. 

[defiancerpg-blog]

Congratulations LAURA, you have been accepted as CEPHEUS, THE KING, with the faceclaim of AVAN JOGIA and the PSYCHOMETRY ability!

Notes from the Admins: Ellie and Tasha:

We really enjoyed reading your app and seeing how you were going to portray Jai. I (Tasha), personally have nothing to complain about with your app. I loved everything about it. And I’m truly a fan of your writing. You just hit every point with your writing, no matter how short or long it was there was nothing lacking. Like Tasha said, I (Ellie) think your app really hit home with who our little genius was in our minds. The answers to the interview are short and sweet and give us a perfect glimpse into Jai’s mind.  I also love your connections and how you touch on his relationship with Daniela and how that also extends to her sister in some ways which is a struggle for him.

You have 48 hours to send in your blog. If you haven’t already joined the group discord then you may do so now (if that’s your wish) [x]. Once you have turned in your blog, you will be given a role that will allow you access to the private channels regarding plots/characters. Please remember to do everything on the checklist, and also we just want to thank you for joining this roleplay. We hope your time with us will be a fun and memorable one!

Jai Tailor Application

OOC Information:

Alias & Pronouns:

Laura

Age:

20

Timezone, Activity Level, & RP Experience:

I’m from GMT+10, My activity fluctuates depending on what’s going on at Uni, but when I don’t have assessments I tend to be on once a day. I’ve been roleplaying for about six years now on tumblr, and you can find an old rp blog here

BASIC IC INFORMATION

Skeleton:

Cepheus – Jai Tailor

Faceclaim:

Avan Jogia, Mahesh Jadu (would require age change to 29), Sidharth Malhotra

Age:

26

Orientation:

Jai identifies as Bi-sexual and aromantic.

Origin:

Salt Lake City, Utah

Nova Type:

Mentis

Ability:

Psychometry: Otherwise known as token object reading. Jai has the ability to extract an objects entire history, the hands that have held it, the places it has been left, those who have claimed ownership over it. His parents described it as him transporting himself into the essence of an object, removed from time or space. He never liked to use his parent’s descriptions. He simply describes it as having access to an object’s data base. So far Jai has only had the ability to read objects without a conscious. He suspects things with sentience have the ability to reject his attempted extraction. When he was fifteen he experimented for the first time with a dead body. The results were beyond belief, he could only bare to touch the body for a few moments, enough time to extract only the beginning of its life, before his skin seemed to burn, and his stomach emptied itself. Although he has never again had the chance to experiment with such an ability he is filled with morbid, self-destructive curiosity about this aspect of his powers and is desperate to try again.

Mnemokinesis: Or memory manipulation. Jai has the ability to insert false memories into the minds of other people. It is not an easy power to utilise, he does it with his words, first lulling a subject into a subdued, susceptible state, and then crafting a memory. When done correctly the memories he plants are stronger and more vivid than any real memory his victim has.

NB: I have worked psychometry into the application a lot, so if the second/any other choice is chosen I may have to rework parts of the app. Please just let me know if that is the case 😊  

THE INTERVIEW:

So, tell me a little bit about growing up. What was your childhood like?

“My childhood. Seriously?!” Teeth grinded against his lip as he shook his head. His jaw was set, filled with all the tension that gave away his annoyance at the question. Glaring he sat, waiting for the question to change, for some form of acknowledgement that such a question was ridiculous, but none came. “It was rosy. Hugs every day. Fun with other children. Mom and dad shielding me from all the horrible evils of the world. I grew up happy and loved and valued.” His tone was so dry, so lacking in infliction, that no one could doubt his sarcasm.

What about your relationship with your family?

He snorted as soon as the question was asked, shaking his head in disgust. “You’re just like everyone else. Desperate to understand me through my relationships. To place me in some context and diagnose me.” He spat the final words. “If you want to know about my parents interview them. You want to understand me? Here I am.” He spread his arms out wide, hard eyes seeming to dare the interviewer to come closer. “My relationship with my parents means nothing. You think they shaped me? Made me? You’re wrong. They’re nothing.”

Are you the only Nova in your family? Or were your parents Novas too? What about any siblings?

“Were my parents Nova’s?” His smirk, the quiet snort he emitted portrayed amusement. The shadow that fell across his eyes however said otherwise. “In a way. Latens both of them. Completely powerless. But they had superpowers none the less. An inferiority complex so grand it consumed them. The ability to close off from any emotion, completely invulnerable to feeling. They were self-diagnosed Latens but they had powers all the same. Perhaps they diagnosed wrong… I’d like that.”

What’s your ability like? Is it easy to control or harder? Do you even like it?

“My ability.” For the first time since the interview began he seemed to calm, settling down with an aura of excitement about him. His eyes had lit up, this was his specialty. What he knew. He loved nothing more than sharing information, enlightening people with his theories. “I don’t think any ability can be easy to control. There’s always unlocked potential, unforeseen circumstances, unpleasant effects. There’s always an element of your ability controlling you. Do I like it? I love it! I literally have information at my fingertips. I love that it can make me feel stronger. Can give me power over others. I love it because it will always be un-understandable and uncontrollable.”

How would you describe your personality?

“My personality?” The question was repeated in a soft voice, eye contact maintained under hooded lids, and thick lashes. “I think I’d prefer to hear you describe it.” His hand reached out, a single index finger tracing the veins on the underside of the interviewer’s wrist. “Does personality really matter outside of perception? I only care what you think of me.”

What do you think your greatest strengths and weaknesses are?

“I don’t like to reveal my strengths. The ones that aren’t self-evident are an advantage. That or they’re imagined. Either way I’d be stupid to advertise them. Weaknesses…” He paused for a moment, calculating. “There’s a disadvantage to being so removed from human emotion, to not buying into socially accepted fallacy. People label it as “socially awkward”. Really it’s just another word for existing outside the collective.”

Where and what were you doing the day the Nova Protection Act was enacted?

“I was waiting.” He raised his eyebrow, daring the interviewer to question his statement. “I was waiting and was ready. What exactly I did that day doesn’t matter, I knew that day would come, and when it did I had everything in order to survive it. I had liquidity and I had supplies. I was prepared.” He pursed his lips, “I’d only recently left my last job, working in a lab, my parents had been in contact with my boss, continuing to extract data. I had no interest in continuing there. There was an opening in a pathology department, I’d always wanted to work in pathology, but I never got the chance to start.”

Did you immediately run? Or did you try to obey the law and report to the Anti-Nova Force?

Snorting laughter signified what he saw as the ridiculousness of the statement. “You think I would willingly catalogue myself? Submit myself to the will of the government? I didn’t run, I disappeared. My parents were the only ones who could find me. They can’t find me now.”

How have you survived this last year and a half or so? Did you have any help or were you all alone? How did you find Yalena’s Sanctuary?

“We came as a group. All good scientists protect their subjects. My parents found me, found the sanctuary, and began marching me towards it. I was a burden to them, a heavy, hard to move experiment. My parents reminded me of that the whole journey. They could have gone in to hiding if it wasn’t for me. They didn’t need sector zero. They thought I needed them and they needed no one. They were wrong. They cared if I died, needed my survival. I never needed them, never cared for their safety. Never cared for anyone’s safety.” He chewed his lip, silence hanging off him “No. There’s no one’s safety I care for.

What were you doing when the raid happened? How did you respond to the flood of Wardens? How quickly did you go through Yalena’s portal?

“I was… reading… I don’t know. I don’t think it matters. What matters is I was ready? Bag packed. I should have been the first one through. Would have been if it wasn’t for… Sector Zero wasn’t as easy as the first time. Everything I needed couldn’t be packed. I still made it through quickly, just not as quickly as I should have… My parents on the other hand… They were too slow.”

What has living in The Imperium been like for you? Do you feel safer than before? Is it better or worse than on the run, or Yalena’s Sanctuary?

“It’s not like any of them were a five-star resort…” He laughed at his own joke, shaking his head when no one laughed with him. “It’s fine. I’d be stupid to get too attached. They found us once, they’ll do it again. Really there’s only one major difference. My parents aren’t here…”

The last question. If war broke out between Novas and the humans, which side will you be on?

“I don’t know. Neither? Both? It would make sense to be on the side of the Novas, I don’t know if humans will ever be on a Novas side again, but I have no interest in fighting for the losing side. There’s no glory in war, no honour in death. I care nothing for a collective, feel no connection to a group of people. If war comes I will do what’s best for me. I’ll survive.”

Connections:

Gemini: Jai trusts Waverly intellectually, he knows she is bright, enjoys her candid nature, is willing to work with her to survive. Intellectually he knows the two of them fit together. Are both broken in a similar way. Emotionally, however, he feels none of this. The wall between them is as strong as any other he has erected. They only want one thing from each other, and he refuses to allow anything deeper. She is a stranger to him, a stranger who would only respect a closed off man, perhaps he’s correct in this assumption, he’s never been sure, but what he feels emotionally has a habit of trumping what he knows intellectually.

Cassiopeia: Jai had a flawless outlook on life, except for one problem. Dani. Clever Dani who worked her way into his soul. He never meant to care about anyone the way he cares about her. He thought he knew better. Somewhere down the line, however, he let his guard down, exposed himself in a way he never meant to. Love was some fallacy humans hid behind to stop themselves feeling alone, but he felt it, with every fibre of his being, she was his family, his home, his life. He hates her for weakening him in this way, but he could never hate her really. She’s all that matters.

Andromeda: I would also like to explore Jai’s relationship with Dani’s younger sister. He see’s her as an annoyance, inferior to himself and Dani, trapped by the same weaknesses he sees him and his best friend as being outside of. He also hates the prospect that her existence means he has to care not only about Dani’s survival but also Nora’s

HEADCANONS:

As a child Jai’s parents literally used him as a test subject, they were obsessed with understanding his powers. As a child he knew nothing else, he saw his life as normal, it made sense to him that his parents would want to understand him, to improve him. When he saw Daniela’s relationship with her parents it was the closeness he envied, the care she was shown. When he grew older, when he grew to understand what his parents had done, not only to him but to others as well he learnt his parents weren’t just cold, they were monsters.

Jai enjoys subtle powerplays in bed. Never has this been more pronounced than in his relationship with Waverly, mostly because he has never before had a such a continuous intimacy with another Nova. He often teases her, fingers tracing the skin around her jewellery, secrets and information she has not chosen to share. He could access them whenever he wanted. But he doesn’t. He never would. He needs that wall too much.

Jai’s parents were atheists. His mother’s parents were non-practicing Christians, his father’s were devout Muslims. Jai himself, partially as rebellion against his parents and partially out of his own attempts to collect all the different information, theories and perspectives he can has been experimenting more with the Muslim faith. He has had little time for it whilst in hiding and will always take the portions of the region he feels suits him, but he holds onto the identity non-the-less.

Changes:

None at all!

DETAILED IC INFORMATION

You can find a personality page I have made for Jai here

You can also find some moodboards I made here and a pintrest board here

There are some playlists here

Finally, all the little extras I have done are here.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Nothing I can think of now!

[massivemindz]

Friend Zone

I have done everything you have ever asked of me, I have done everything you have never asked of me, I know you well enough to finish your sentences, Well enough to know when things are not okay, even when you tell me otherwise, I know you well enough to know when you need someone to hold you, Well enough to know when you need to be left alone. I’ve kept each and every secret you’ve ever shared with me, kept your deepest desires, I have shared them with no one else but you, & still you make it seem as if it is not enough . . . As if I am not enough . . . As if we are not enough . . . I’ve sat through all of your stories, even the ones that are not about you and I, & I’ve never complained, even when your stories about the others upset me, That’s what I like to call them, The others . . . . They never stay around long enough for me to call them by name, I guess it’s because each and every time you fall for someone, they misguide you, They turn out to be everything but what you expected, and yet you still let them in, See you let me in, but never quite close enough, Never close enough to your heart to whisper all that I had ever longed to tell you, You loved me, but not in the way I wanted, at least not in the way that I love you, I am the first person that you reach out to whenever something happens to you, Be that good or bad, Whenever something you don’t like or agree with happens, you always call me, At this point i’m quite certain you’ve memorized my telephone number, I’m always the person you call, I use to think it was because you thought I was special, I thought you felt the same about us, I had a rude awakening waiting for me, One day I overheard your conversation, with a mutual friend of ours, A friend who knew how I felt for you, they asked you what I meant to you, Asked you how you felt about me, your response surprised no one but myself, I was not prepared for your answer, You told them that I was everything to you but the love of your life, & that hurt me, It didn’t hurt me because of the nature of our relationship, It hurt me because I knew all too well how I felt about you, See I knew that I was everything you could ever ask for, I knew that if you would grant me the opportunity to show you, I would most definitely prove it to you, There was not a doubt in my mind, that I was everything you could ever ask for, I loved you in ways, no one else ever could, I cared for you as if you were already mine, and you thanked me for it, But you were never quite gracious enough to let me inside your heart, At least not in the way that I so wished you would, I cared for you with every ounce of my being, I loved you with every inch of my heart, I valued your presence in my life, never once judged you for any mistake you made, I appreciated every single thing you’d ever shown me, or done for me, I was your shoulder to cry on when you were filled with sorrow, Your punching bag when you were angry, Your confidant when you had secrets, you knew you could only share with me, & yet you still acted as if, you couldn’t see our future together, I would occasionally dance around the subject of us becoming more then we were, You would laugh . . . You always did I took this personally, not because I believed that your laughter was malicious, But because each and every time you didn’t take me serious, My love for you could not shield me from the pain I felt in each of those moments, The pain I felt from knowing that I could be everything you could ever possibly need, Yet unable to prove it to you, what I knew to be true, That kind of anguish, I would not wish on my worst enemy, It is torment, to know paradise is within arms reach, But every time you take a step closer, paradise seems further away Knowing you personally, spiritually, and emotionally opened me up to knowing you in a way no one else ever would. You told me things, you hadn’t shared with anyone, not even your family, You trusted me with every ounce of your being, and I felt closer to you because of this, Yet knowing you in ways no one else ever could, only fueled my frustration. You had told me everything that you had ever wanted and needed from someone, Every thing you knew you wanted from another person, I gave you each and every one of those things, and yet you still seemed dissatisfied, I could not understand nor comprehend what else I could give you, What else could you possibly need? I shouted to myself in solitude. There is no one better for you then me! If not me then WHO? Who could possibly be the person you were so patiently waiting for? When everything you could ever need is staring you dead in the face, But see that’s your problem, you were not intending on finding someone you needed, Finding someone to love you for you, Someone who would never betray your trust, Someone honest, loyal, loving, and kind, You were not anticipating meeting a person who had these attributes, At least not in this lifetime . . . You never in a thousand years, expected to find those things in another person, So you most often settled, settled for what you wanted in that moment, & never what you needed, never the things that could truly provide you comfort, You were on standby for things you wanted, and that was your mistake All of the things that had no real substance as far as I was concerned, Could not move you in the way that passion, and genuine understanding could, See I knew that the kind of love that I could give you, was not love you were ready for, I knew that in the roots of my inner conscience, but instead of accepting that, Instead of following the only voice I knew could lead me in the right direction, I followed you instead . . . I clung to your every word as if it were straight from God’s mouth, As if you were the final voice I would ever hear for the rest of my life, & that was my mistake . . . Believing that you could ever hold what I had to offer you with closed palms, Believing you were able to swallow the words I said to you with a closed mouth, Believing that you were able to ever hear my heart call out for you, with closed ears, Believing that there could ever be a special space for me and my love in your heart, When I knew you had nowhere to keep it, See you can’t find salvation in the indention of refuge, I knew that you truly loved the others I had watched one too many times hurt you, I knew that you genuinely dedicated all your energy attempting to love them, I had only wished that you could refocus your attention, I had hoped you would one day be able to identify what I so longed to give you, I sought to feed your mind, body, and spirit, I wished to support you in all aspects of life, not just the ones I found of interest to me, The others were only concerned with what you had to offer them, & not in the instance of love, they only wished to add you to their collection, Another trophy to place on display for all of the world to see, Another mission to complete, another venture to explore, But never long enough to truly get to know you, I hold your most precious possessions on a pedestal, I treat them, and you like royalty, I know the value of what you truly have to offer, I’ve never ignored the quality of the possessions you hold nearest to you, The others take you for granted, They look at you as merely another vessel to place nothing more then their ownership, They feel entitled, before they have ever even earned the opportunity, & you give it to them willingly each and every time they compliment you, You give it to them freely each time they show you the bare minimum, This always seems to bring me heartache, it disappoints me, It does not change the beauty I still see within you, But know, that living life like this will forever leave you in the company of discontent, I hate the others seem to always be too blind to recognize what your love brings, They’re somehow able to stand in the presence of euphoria, and not be moved, That’s what you are for me, wonderland, a glimpse of my fondest fantasies, I’ve told you many times, I just hope one day you grow to see it for yourself, You always manage to somehow allow the others to diminish your worth, To come to you and take with them all the things that bring you joy, I’m always the first call that you make when your heart has been broken, I’m always there to pick up the pieces, ß I’m always there, & I always will be, I hope to one day, with your permission, Love you in a way only I am able, my hope, one day . . . Is that you’ll let me out the Friend Zone.