#a space for ourselves/each other to hang out and give and receive support??

[grasscore]

yo my lil coworking discord server community is straight up saving my life.... i love these guys...

[sammyjhand]

Chilly

Written for @wolfstarmicrofic November 4 prompt

Sirius slams his Transfiguration textbook down on the dining table, causing all plates and silverware in the nearby vicinity to clatter against the wood. 

James’ eyes nearly bug out of his skull when he sees the sour look on his face. “Merlin, Padfoot! We’re trying to eat in peace, please take that attitude elsewhere!” 

If looks could kill, James would surely have stroked out on the spot from the seething glance he receives through Sirius’s narrowed eyes. He sits down anyways and begins to pile food onto his place regardless.

Peter and James give each other a knowing glance, as Sirius tail-spinning into the most atrocious of moods was becoming a common issue the past few months. 

“Would you like to talk about it? And, please,” James begs cautiously. “For the love of all things holy, please tell me this has nothing to do with Moony.”

And speak of the devil, Moony enters the dining hall as soon as his name leaves James’ mouth. Sirius shovels potatoes into his mouth, eyes trained on his plate as Remus takes his usual seat next to Sirius. Neither James nor Peter misses the intentional space Remus is sure to leave between them, or the way he completely ignores Sirius’ presence in general.

Sirius and Remus had been at it for months, one moment so lost in each other that nobody else existed (vom, seriously) and the next they were at each other’s throats. It was giving James whiplash, and he’s rapidly approaching the limit of how much of this he can bear to take anymore. 

“Oh my god, can you just hug and make up or something? There’s going to be a party after the game tonight and I refuse to let you pricks ruin everyone else’s fun!” 

“I haven’t done anything wrong. There’s nothing to make up,” Remus says haughtily, still not sparing a glance in Sirius’ direction. 

“He said,” Sirius bursts, hands slamming down on the table, “that he won’t come watch me play Quidditch tonight because ‘he’ll be too chilly’.”

“Yes, and I stand by that. It’s bloody cold out and I’d rather be inside where I can revise and be warm. Is that really so awful? Merlin, Padfoot, get a grip. You’re not special,” Remus shoots back nastily. 

Sirius is effectively stunned. Even James is a bit surprised by the vitriol in Remus’ voice. 

Sirius forgets his plate and stands up, looking directly at Remus. 

“You’re right,” he says, voice wavering dangerously. 

“Oh, god,” Peter mutters, running a hand over his face.

“How absurd of me to ask you to come watch your best mate’s match? How dare I suggest you wear a fucking jumper and come support me? You know what, Remus, let’s just save ourselves the trouble of having this conversation again. Don’t come to my quidditch matches ever again. I don’t want you there.” 

And with that, with the dramatic display of a soap opera, Sirius storms from the dining hall, red-faced and teary eyed. Remus has the decency to at least look a little guilty for the remainder of tea, and the three marauders silently push their food around until it’s time to head back to the dorm.

Sirius is nowhere to be found when they get back, but the dorm reeks of cigarette smoke, meaning he was moodily perched at the window chain smoking until he had to leave for the pitch.

James sighs deeply, pulling his kit out of his trunk before beginning to change.

“What’s that for?” Remus asks, anger ringing through his voice.

“I didn’t say anything,” James says calmly. 

“But you’re angry with me, too. I can hear it,” Remus insists a bit desperately. 

“Remus, if you’re feeling guilty, maybe you should apologize to Sirius.”

Remus sits on James’ bed looking right miserable. “I don’t know why he’s so mad. I just don’t want to go tonight, I really didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“Remus,” James implores with wide eyes. “He likes you. We’re playing Slytherin tonight. He’s competing against his little brother. Did I mention that he likes you? Do you need more justification as to why he’s upset?” 

Remus hangs his head and shakes it glumly. “Fucking hell, I really am the worst.”

James collects his gear and heads out to the pitch himself, leaving Remus to sort out his feelings and Peter to... well, do whatever it is that Peter does. He almost says, ‘see you at the match,’ to Remus when he leaves the room, but he doesn’t want to seem too cocky. In reality, though, he knows Remus better than Remus knows himself.

~~~

Nerves and anxiety threaten to swallow Sirius whole as he sits on his broom, waiting for the match to begin. Nerves for the match, anxiety over the argument with Moony. He always feels like shit until they can make up again, but this time he has to play a whole match, and play well at that, before they can speak again. 

The argument sits like a rock in the pit of his stomach as the match begins, so Sirius represses any unwelcome feelings and pushes them deep, deep inside as he climbs altitude to search for the snitch. 

He can’t be distracted right now, he has to find the snitch. He can’t be thinking about Moony, or the possibility of losing him over a stupid fucking fight, or how Moony doesn’t care enough about Sirius to show up for him, or--

“LET’S GO, SIRIUS!”

Sirius whips his head to the left where Gryffindor students reside, and spots that golden head of curls standing tall above the sitting group of students. Remus grins at him, cupping his hands over his mouth again. 

“KICK SOME ASS, BLACK!” 

Sirius grins devilishly, leaning forward to shoot off in the direction of the snitch that just caught his eye. 

~~

“That’s my jumper.”

Remus turns from where he was observing the quiet quidditch pitch. Gryffindor won the match after Sirius had to fight off Regulus from grabbing the snitch long enough for his team to gain the points to pull ahead. He played like a star, and Remus can’t help but think he may have had something to do with Sirius’ performance that night. 

“You did tell me to fucking wear one,” Remus responds cheekily. 

Sirius’s hair is wet from his shower in the locker room, and his cheeks are red from a number of things. He looks unbearably sweet in a jumper, muggle jeans, and a pair of Converse that he begged Remus to bring back from home after last summer. 

“Sorry about earlier,” Remus gets out. He’s not great at apologizing. 

Sirius shrugs. “S’okay. You came anyways.” 

Remus steps closer. “No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry I said you weren’t special, because that quite literally couldn’t be farther from the truth. You’re my best mate.” Remus clears his throat and feels the tips of his ears burn. “You’re special to me.”

Sirius stares at him, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “I didn’t mean it when I said I didn’t want you at my matches anymore. I want you there every time.”

They continue to stare at each other, neither boy wanting to make the move. But when they both move at once and their lips crash together, finally, for the first time, all the bickering from the past month just seems like foreplay. 

“You look so good in this,” Sirius gasps, pulling at the collar of his own jumper that Remus donned. 

“I wore it for you,” Remus chokes out, overwhelmed by the feeling of knowing Sirius feels the same way he does, and with the physical feeling of Sirius’ hands running all over his chest. 

Sirius pulls back, grinning like the Cheshire Cat and an evil glint clear in his eyes. “Wanna make out in the room while everyone’s at the party?”

Remus locks their fingers together and literally runs off in the direction of the castle, Sirius in tow, laughter lost in the wind. 

[calciumcryptid]

Shiketsu Courses:

There are four courses a student can take at Shiketsu. This includes: Heroics, Support Heroics, Management & Business, and General Education.

Shiketsu Classes:

General Education: History, Literature, Math, Science, Study Hall

Heroics: Heroics 101, Medicine & First Aid, Search & Rescue, Mission Etiquette, Infiltration, History, Literature, Math, Science

Management & Business: Global Business, Finance & Accounting, Marketing, History, Literature, Math, Science

Support Heroics: Engineering, Programming, Graphing, Support Lab, History, Literature

Shiketsu Class Sizes:

In Shiketsu each course year is limited to thirty students per year, meaning there are ninety students per course. In total, this is three-hundred sixty students enrolled in Shiketsu.

Note: Shiketsu is a part of a remedial program throughout Japan which allows teenagers who are in juvenile detention centers to come learn. They take up three spaces in each class, which amounts to thirty-six students being remedial.

Shiketsu Extracurriculars:

Shiketsu offers extracurriculars to their students to help broaden horizons, offer different forms of quirk evolution, help bond with other students, and provide a simple way to have fun.

Extracurriculars are banned from giving outside work so the students can have a space besides their dorms to just relax. Though they are allowed off campus if they fill out the required paperwork and receive permission from guardians.

Shiketsu Dorms:

The Shiketsu dorms house four students per floor. The dorms consist of a central area where a small kitchen is located along with a living space with two communal bathrooms. There are four doors that separate into four different rooms which students are allowed to decorate under certain guidelines.

All dorms are provided with a wardrobe, a bed, and a desk. Additional furniture may be purchased a head of time or brought to the dorms with the proper paperwork filled out.

In order to encourage inter-class bonding, each of the four roommates will be from a different course. The roommates will be the same year as each other to discourage seniority superiority. Roommates will be the same gender as other roommates to help protect against harassment.

Shiketsu Dorms Visual:

Shiketsu Dorm Guidelines:

Safety: Escape plans are on the back of the main door. Removal of these plans will result in a hefty fine, as they are necessary to ensure the safety of the students.

Curfew: The dorms have a strict curfew of ten o'clock. While students do not have to go to sleep, they must be in their dorms by then. Exceptions include after school activities.

Pets: Pets are not permitted in the dorms unless they are a tank animal such as a lizard or hamster. Exceptions include emotional support and guide animals, but this must be included in the student files to avoid being roomed with those who have allergies.

Decorations: All decorations must be easily removable, and students may not put holes in the walls to hang them up. Damages to the infrastructure will result in a hefty fine.

Substances: Substances such as drugs and alcohol are not permitted on Shiketsu grounds. If a student is caught in possession of these substances, they will be facing expulsion. Exceptions are prescribed medication, but you must have proof that the substances are prescribed. You can add the proof to your student file so the professors can do a quick scan of your Student ID.

Shiketsu Internships:

Shiketsu prides ourselves in our connections, which allows us to provide opportunities to our students that others may not have. Our internship program is one example where students may work under an approved member who specializes in their respective courses. Students are not permitted to stay with the designated mentor, simply leaving campus to participate.

Shiketsu Work Studies:

Similarly to internships, students will learn from an approved member who specializes in their respective course. They do not stay with the designated mentor, simply leaving campus to go work. However, work studies vary on length with the most being a month.

Shiketsu Support Groups:

A large number of support groups are available for students from all backgrounds, religions, ethnicities, disabilities, sexualities, and gender identities. We invite you to look on our webpage for more details on those groups.

Shiketsu Parents:

We understand that there is a lot of concern and worry that surrounds hero schools, so if you have any questions you would like to add please contact us on the school phone number.

[shorkbrian]

Prelude - I need to stop catching sight of poetry on my explore page lol. This is entirely self-indulgent and very specific cause I’m rotting thru life rn and so if u dislike I understand lol. When I was in the hospital this last time it sucked rlly bad and like the awful horny degenerate I was I kept thinking abt Kirishima and soft sweet Sugawara idk lol

Pairing - Death god Kirishima x Reader

Warnings - Suicide, suicide attempt, no smut. Death. Drunk Drivers. Yandere but only a little bit and cause I can’t voluntarily accept love it has to be forced bc I cannot handle the thot of someone who is sane loving me bc there is no freaking way lol

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5Iy1wdO0tMaHwKnfFYtlel?si=-vqod-W6SHia8ui2Hdl_9g 

Adding this one bc it’s like one of my favorites and I wish god I wish and I hope that this year is better than the last amen lol also there’s nothing more sad to me than someone pleading and begging and crying for the year to treat you nicely like bitch u okay? no. the answer is no.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0xRO7EKgYKVB8zKIoiXMDD?si=HYBaiBzjRGmQwfCHgnTUxA

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It hurts.” You had told him, as the entity sat at the end of your hospital bed.

He often sank heavily onto the nearest surface, as if his bones ached with the weight of his body. You saw him often during those first few days in the hospital, days spent puking up pills, every move you made monitored, doctors and nurses scolding you about the severity of your actions.

You didn’t think they could see the hulking figure that comforted you.

“I”ve heard that it’s supposed to.” The red god of death would think aloud.

“I don’t want it then.” Tears upon your cheeks, soft, misty. “Take it.”

“Your life?” A nod would affirm his question, but the red god would shake his head. “I am no thief. Not a hunter, simply a gatherer of souls. I won’t take what doesn’t belong to me.”

“Then it’s yours, have my life. A gift, from me to you. Don’t make me live it any longer…..”

His sadness would show in his eyes.

But the soul-crushing hugs that were provided were admittedly a tiny bit nice.

“You’re far too sweet for your own good. I’ll receive your life when the time is right, not before.”

“But I don’t want it!” You sobbed into his shoulder, the god seeming to be your only friend in the world.

Hands stroked along your back, soft shushing sounds as the god attempted to soothe you in the ways he knew how. Soft touches, kind truths. “Many don’t.  But it happens - life happens anyways. All you can do is find the things that make it less painful.”

“That’s not enough, it still hurts. I can’t stand it.” The sobs wracking your body didn’t stop the entity from holding you.

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

——

He’s patient and kind.

Surprising for a god who’s work involves collecting souls as if they were taxes. A job that should be bitter and tiresome, but the entity has infinite softness resting inside of him.

He walks with you, as you get “better“.

You watch him stop to marvel at flowers, to study the way dew drips from trees in little drops, eyes wide and wondering as crows startle from their perches and take off with noisy weeping.

This courtyard is drab and brown, a prison. Safe.

Yet the god of death treats the space gently, with respect. He thanks the old walls for standing, the worn stones beneath your feet. Their service is noted and appreciated. He’s so tender it almost makes you sick.

But you come to realize that he’s simply allowing himself to be vulnerable, to experience the earth and the beings in it.

For as soon as one recognizes vulnerability, which is so different from weakness or tragedy, one experiences a sense of tenderness. Without tenderness, pleasure means nothing. You need only look at the animals to see the truth of that. It is gentleness that distinguishes their playing from the actions they constantly take to ensure their survival.

You ask why he walks with you, why he is so focused on seeing you get “better“.

A soft smile, a meeting of eyes. “There is an end to your pain, sometime and somewhere. It’s most likely not here, not in this place at least-“ and he looks around, at the cold walls, the other sick patients, the staff. All human.

“-It will come. But for now, it’s enough to try and seek it out ourselves.”

You must look more sick than you really are, talking to thin air like that.

——-

Once you return home, the red god writes you letters.

He’s an old soul, an old god. You’re sure if you asked, he’d be able to recount the very first souls he reaped, a man and a woman, sinful and sweet but in love.

The letters help you get out of bed. What new stories or little quips the god has written pique your curiosity, even when you don’t want to move, don’t want to be awake or alive.

He tells you stories about certain souls, how each one is infinitely interesting, how they all interconnect.  How some of them struggle against him, however fruitlessly. But he’s not the one who brought about their death, he’s there to comfort and guide.

Other souls, (“souls like yours” he writes) welcome him, run to his arms like a long lost lover. Their death was terrifying by their own hand, and it hurt. He can’t take away that pain, those memories. The red god says he wishes those souls find peace wherever he must take them afterwards, or at least, some form of contentment.

“The meaning of life is to give life meaning, at least, that’s what seems to be the consensus.” You rip off that part of the letter, hang it on your wall by your bed.  The other letters you keep in your nightstand, content with the knowledge that there are souls out there like you

It’s hard work, creating meaning for yourself.

The red god takes to visiting you between each letter, says he misses you, the way your soul cries. He tells you that he wishes he could help you quiet it, quiet that raging, terrible storm that hurls you about.

You make him cookies - it’s the only way you know how to say thank you. It’s what your mother taught you, so it may not be right, but the god eats them nonetheless. He likes it when you eat with him, feeding you bites from his cookie, wiping chocolate off of your nose, making you laugh with stupid jokes and a mouth stuffed full of cookies.

Even if some of them are too crunchy, or others too soft, all of them imperfect.

Imperfection is the essence of humanity, he tells you, and it’s more fun eating each cookie with the thought that you’re devouring your imperfections, making yourself whole again, filling up the empty spaces in your soul.

——

Eventually, the crawl back to your feet, rise with the unsteadiness of a toddler. You fall frequently, cry often, but you’re able to get up and try again.

Some days you need to bury yourself in sadness, let yourself feel and feel and hurt. Other days are not so bad, but still tinged  with regret and fear and sadness.

The red god is by your side, gives you something to cling to when you waver.

He is always there.

He will be there when you meet your end.

The god is in no hurry.

You question why he wastes his time on you, hours spent reassuring you, talking to you, tucking you in your bed and leaving glasses of water on your nightstand before taking his leave.

Home is a feeling, not a place. Home is with you - that’s what he tells you. You take his breath away, even though he might not even need to breath because he’s the god of death. HIs thoughts muddle and he trips over his feet and can’t help himself from wanting to hold you.

You learn that even gods yearn for home.

He’s capable of feelings and emotions just like any other human. He may be wiser, and older, able to draw from experience and a deep well of wisdom. But he still feels, and feels deeply.

Just as he gives the earth around him such reverence, he extends that same  attitude when he deals with you.

“Everything I see reminds me of you. When I wake and the sun creeps over the mountains, hesitant, it reminds me of the way that you rise - haltingly, yet it happens nonetheless. The flowers in the field that so steadily grow, you’re like ground they take root in, soft and unstable yet still tenable with the potential for growth. I don’t know, I haven’t exactly held such closeness with a human-“

He trails off, but you think you understand.

Maybe you don’t. It’s hard to relate to a god.

——

A confession occurs, and you’re surprised to learn that the blood-red god of death is in love.

“What did my hands do before they held yours? What did my heart do without all of this love? I can’t hold enough of you, I carry such love for you in my heart.”

With a frail, hopeless human nonetheless.

You don’t know what to tell him, how to explain that you can barely take care of yourself right now, meet your own needs.

But the red god seems to know, seems to understand the way your breath hitches and your eyes widen. One more hug, squeezed tight to his chest while he promises nothing has to change.

Things do change, even if you wish them not to. The world doesn’t bow to your whims, nor the death-god’s.

Innocent touches, his hand on your shoulder, patting your head, offering to rub out the tension in your back after you’ve had a crushing day - they don’t feel so innocent anymore.

The constant survellience still seemed kind, and you knew it was with your best intentions in mind that the god hovered so close, invading every aspect of your life.

But a creeping tendril of unease took hold, and you worried.

Everywhere you turned, he would be there, ready to support you, walk you through anything you wished.

Again, you questioned his commitment. Why? Why you?

“I can’t explain how fond of you I’ve grown. How heat blossomed in my chest as we grew closer. There’s infinite things I wish to say to you, ways for me to express my-my love, but I’ll just let you live.”

He neither killed you nor let you live.

Was it frightening? Maybe. But you had nothing to really live for, lost, searching for your own meaning in a big big world, floundering in an endless sea of sadness and suffering. You weren’t afraid of anything the god could, or would, do to you.

Until you woke up, not knowing where you were, in pitch black.

Arms encircling your shoulders, a soft body beneath your own, holding you tightly, a hand caressing your cheek.

A sun rose, on a strange new land, on the blood-red god gazing at you.

“There seemed to be so much more time for you. But accidents happen, Drivers drink and hearts give out. I was expecting you to grow old, for us to live and love like that, see how you grew through life.”

He looked around this new world, and you vaguely remember what had come before.  A walk along the sidewalk, blaring horns, impact, blood.

“But this will be just as nice. You can stay here with me now. Life can’t cause you anymore pain.”

You don’t feel comforted by those words.  There’s no way for you to know whether this new world would be better than the one you left behind.

[zaikaglow]

Queens of The Court

Pairing: Hitch x Reader, mentions of Ymir x Reader, brief Eren x Reader

Synopsis: After the girl you almost dated Ymir starts dating Historia and breaks your heart you can’t get your head back in the game. A handsome boy from the baseball team offers to help you get your mind off of things, but maybe the actual solution has been under your nose the whole time.

Content: Oral (f giving and receiving, brief m giving f receiving). mention of m x f sex, but the only explicate content is between two women. Slight angst.

The ball you sent flying bounces on the other side of the tennis court and starts to roll into the adjourning court while Hitch goes running after it. “Hitch what the fuck you could have hit that if you payed attention for once in your life” you say frustrated. It was really starting to annoy you the way that Hitch would be so zoned out that she wouldn’t even notice that the ball had been served until it was far too late and she was swinging her racket at nothing. Pieck has her racket pinched between her knees as she focuses on re-tying her ponytail “Come on y/n calm down you and Ymir are the first string me and Hitch are just here as backup” at this laid back remark Ymir decides to pipe up, racket up on her shoulder she struts up to the net. “Well how do you expect me and y/n to be able to keep winning tournaments if we only get to practice with you two space cadets”. Hitch is finally back from retrieving the ball wines “come on were doing our best”! Pieck lets out a small chuckle “come on Hitch even I don't believe that”. “Whatever it’s 8 o’clock the courts closing soon and I need to go pick up Historia from practice lets go” 

You and Ymir start to head back to the locker room together and you can’t help but to think back to the times before Historia. After doubles practice when Hitch and Pieck would go off to share a joint and leer at the baseball team from the bleacher you and Ymir would play each other 1 on 1, relishing the extra time together. At first it started off as a competition. Sure you two were the best doubles team but who was the best player? The first night you broke the barriers of physical contact was when you insisted that Ymir’s serve was out and her insisting it was in, until she had you backed against the chainlink “you know maybe if you put the same amount of energy you use arguing to work on improving your serves it might have actually have been in” you chided. “Shut up” Ymir responded, “why don't you make me” were your final words before her lips came crashing down on yours, her hands against your face. From then on it was your routine, after doubles play individually and always with a bet. Maybe the loser would go down on the winner, or maybe they’d be the one to wash down the winner in the locker room showers. You two never officially dated but you loved Ymir and thought of her as your girlfriend. That was until Historia. You remember how stupid you felt the day you had won your game against the opposing school and back in the locker room you had laced your fingers through her hair to pull her in for a kiss when she placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you “actually I started seeing someone. We’re still good as friends, we just can't keep doing the physical stuff okay”? God “the physical stuff” was that all this was to her? Your heart felt like it was being split in two and how could it not? You were in love with her and you thought she had felt the same, that the unspoken bond was what made it even more romantic. But turns out Ymir didn’t see things the same way, she thought you were just friends who happened to fuck. And now your plays were starting to suffer, too distracted by the heart ache. Sometimes getting distracted by the way Ymir’s hands grip the racket and your mind starting to wonder if she brushed her thumb along Historia’s cheek before kissing her the same way she used to do to you. Maybe that’s why you were so hard on Hitch for her spacing out, it's always easier to pick apart your flaws in other people instead of facing them yourself. As Ymir heads to the gym to go grab Historia from practice you decide to head over to the baseball field. Maybe hanging out with those two stoners would be better than going back home alone.

Pieck has the stupidest smile on her face when she passes you the joint, you taking it between your pointer and middle finger about to take a drag when you hear his grating voice “Heeeyyy y/n”. God it’s fucking Eren Jaeger, and he’s walking over baseball bat slung over his shoulders and you look away trying to avoid eye contact “Hello ladies, oh come on y/n don’t ignore me even in person” you take a drag of the joint before answering “hey Eren you ever think maybe there's a reason I never answered your text from 4 months ago” the boys eyebrows furl in concern “Oh come on you can’t still be mad about that group project! I said I was sorry and I was just asking you to dinner to apologize, you didn’t have to ignore me for 4 months”. Hitch doesn’t look like her cheery self, elbows on her knees and her fists supporting her pouting face “come on Eren you think you’d get the hint after 4 months, she’s. Not. interested.”. You pass the joint back to Pieck when suddenly you get an idea, still not daring to meet his teal eyes you say “Eren me and Ymir are playing tennis tomorrow why don’t you stop around 5 and pick me up”. Eren’s face lights up in excitement while Hitch and Pieck seem taken aback by you suddenly asking the guy you've blown off for the past 4 months to come hang out. Eren lets out a small chuckle “you two still practice on a Saturday”? “That’s why me and Ymir are so good, we apply ourselves. Hitch and Pieck could be too but they don't. Anyways are you coming or not” you say  “Oh I’ll be there hot stuff, I’ll be there.” he says while strutting back off to the rest of the team in the dugout. “Hey I can apply myself” Hitch practically yells, you can't tell whether that remark was for you or for Eren.

Your game against Ymir is not going in your favor, you know you can play better than you are but she brought Historia with her to watch and it's too distracting. Staring at her and wondering what she has that you didn’t, why Ymir could fall in love with her but not you. It’s a big surprise but you’re actually relieved when Eren shows up so you can end the game. Once on the court Eren makes his way over to you wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close to him, Ymir who has her tennis bag in one hand, the other holding Historia’s looks over at the two of you eyes crinkling into a smile “hey I didn’t know you were with someone, I’m really happy for you y/n”! And with that she turns and starts to walk away like she didn’t just tear your heart apart with her smile. She was genuinely happy for you, there were no hints of jealousy, maybe she was just relieved that you found someone and that possibly your game would finally improve and stop being pissy about her being with someone. You grab your bag tighter and start making your way down to the locker room right out of Eren’s arm while he starts jogging after you “I’ll be out in a second I just need to change” you say fighting back the tears that were starting to prick at the corners of your eyes. Instead of actually getting changed you lay back against the cold lockers before sliding down to the ground and burying your head in your arms that rest on your knees when suddenly you hear “so were you fucking her or something”? Your head snaps up “Eren what the fuck are you doing in here. This is the women’s locker room". He just chuckles at you before offering you a hand “it's Saturday, no one else is in here drama queen”. You wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand now afraid he’ll notice your tears not that your upright “what does it matter Eren”. He places his hands against the lockers right next to your hips before leaning in and you feel his hot breath fan across your face and his nose brush your cheek “do you want me to help you forget her”? You feel his hand snake down under your skirt running up your thighs until he reaches the top band and tries to pull down but your clothes stay in place. “It’s a tennis skirt dumbass the shorts are attached” you side step your way under his arms out of his grasp before starting to head back out of the locker room “besides like I’d ever let you fuck me here at least take me back to your room or something”. Eren starts to jog to keep up “hey I know how tennis skirts work”!

Eren’s dorm was painfully college boy-esque. Air fresheners littered along windowsills and desk an attempt to hide the boy BO and by the dirty bong on the desk, weed. You sit down on the edge of the bed pushing away a dirty tee-shirt with your pinky when Eren takes a seat on the floor between your knees ``okay baby girl I’m gonna make you forget aallll about that little tennis partner of yours”. He places a wet kiss to the side of your knee before using the first two fingers on each hand to dip beneath the waistband of your skirt before pulling it down. You lay back in the bed as you feel him kiss your inside thigh before finally making contact with your core, and oh god what the hell is he doing? He’s spelling out the alphabet, you're not too terribly surprised “not shocked just disappointed” would sum it up. He’s hot so of course he probably has tons of girls who faked ecstasy just because they were so excited to have Jaeger between their legs. But after Ymir? No way this comes close, b, a, s, e, oh he finished the alphabet so he’s moving onto random words now “baseball”? Real creative dumbass. Bored as hell you can't help but to pull out your phone.

To: Sub 1

What are you doing rn?

Movie night with Pieck! You should come join us!!! : )

K, going to shower and then be up.

Eren pulls away surprised when you sit up and start to pull your skirt back up “hey babe, what's wrong”? He gives you those stupid puppy dog eyes. “You're bad at this i'm bored” you utter grabbing your tennis bag and heading back to the door. You’re halfway down the hall when you see him standing in the door frame hardon visible through his boxers when he says “come on y/n I'm better with my dick dont you even wanna see”.

After making it back to your dorm and taking a quick shower you head up to the next floor and give a knock on the door adorned with cute little construction paper cactuses labels “Pieck” and “Hitch”. Hitch opens the door with a big smile, her eyes crinkling at the corner. You can't help but notice the white tank top wearing she’s wearing is slightly see through and the way her nipples push against the fabric, and boy can you feel them too when she pulls you into a hug and her breast squish against you. Pieck is laying down on the bed blowing the smoke from a joint out a window fan they turned around so it blows out the window instead of in. She smirks when she sees the way your face goes blank at how Hitch is nuzzling her head against you “hey y/n want some”?  You give a nob before heading over to the bed arm around Hitch guiding her back with you. A couple drags later and you're not even paying attention to the movie. Instead the weed has heightened your senses and it feels intense the way that Hitch is running her delicate little fingers up and down your arms. Pieck who’s been stealing glances at you two occasionally takes her phone out of her pajama shorts and says “oh hey I just got a text from Pock asking me to spend the night, I’m going to head over. You know how I like to sleep in, in the morning so y/n feel free to stay till wherever” she gives a wink as she saunters out the room. Hitch is semi laying back on the pillows and starts to giggle once Pieck is out the door. “What are you laughing about” you say as you sit up from the other end of the bed. Hitch’s face turns a bright red “nothing i'm not laughing about anything”. God you don’t know what it is about her right now but the way she short hair is kinda messy from rolling against the pillows or what a tease she looks like nipples poking through that see through tank top and her ass practically hanging out the bottom of those short shorts but you can’t help what comes over you. On your hands and knees you start to crawl towards her, green eyes widening as she watches you stalk towards her like a predator. Until you’re over her hands placed just under her armpits, your knees against the sides of her hips. You move one hand up to her jaw brushing your thumb over her lips “I said what are you laughing about ''. You don’t even give her a chance to answer before you crash your lips against hers, a small mewl escaping her lips at the contact. You move your hand from her face down to her side fingers running over her ribs. She sighs and leans into your touch, at her receptiveness you go ahead and move your hand up to her breast kneading the soft tissue between your fingers. When she starts to rub her thighs together you go ahead and practically rip that little tank top off her and latch your lips onto her nipple. One hand still gently squeezes her other breast thumb rubbing small circles around her perked up little nipple, on the other you have your tongue flicking, rolling, and sucking against her. Her hands go to your shoulders squeezing harder each time you pull off her nipple with a pop before going back. You plant a kiss to her sternum moving down her torso nipping at her belly button before continuing down and pulling her shorts off. She’s so beautiful. Her plump bottom lip between her teeth as her perky breast moving up and down with her excited breathing, her pubic hair is the same sandy blonde as her head and she’s practically glistening at her core. Spreading her legs apart you lay your head against her thigh and look into her eyes as you slide your pointer and ring finger inside of her. You can’t help but chuckle at just how wet she already is and how she’s clenching around your fingers, her hands gripping the sheets. You turn your head slightly as kiss her thigh as your drag your fingers in and out watching her face contorted in pleasure as she whimpers “use your words tell me what you want” she practically pants out “your tongue I want your tongue” and she's so sweet how can you not indulge her? You start to curl your fingers up as you give her puffy clit a kiss before starting to lap at it with the flat of your tongue. It’s driving you crazy the way her tits bounce with the thrust of your fingers and how she’s grinding her hips down against your fingers. Your other hand goes to play with her tits as you feel her flutter around you as she reaches her release, your tongue still spinning around her clit to ease her though the orgasm. “Mm too much” she mutters out pushing against your head. You sit back up admiring the fucked out look on pretty little Hitch all thanks to you. She sits up on her hands and knees giving you a soft smile “wanna make you feel good now” she says crawling into your lap, peppering kisses down your neck stopping to suck on your collar bone. You pull her head back “no hickies” you say bopping your pointer finger against her nose playfully. She giggles before ducking her head down to your waist pushing your PJ shirt up to access your nipples. She’s rougher than you were and you can feel her teeth nipping as she grabs you by your waist keeping you pulled close to her. When you give a little yelp when she uses a little too much teeth she pulls away giggling again as she pushes you down. “You know everytime you’d bend over for the ball” another giggle “I’d imagine what your pussy would look like”. You finish taking off the rest of your clothes for her and spread your legs when you reply with a teasing “so what do you think then?”. She licks her lips “even more beautiful than I could imagine” she says head moving down between your legs to lick up your folds before latching onto your clit. Hitch was an enthusiastic lover and you two went back and forth until it was late and you two were boarding on overstimulation. After laying down next to each other you get up and start to put your clothes back on. Hitch grabs your arm “hey, don't you wanna sleep over”. You just continue to put your clothes back on saying “ I don’t know if that's a good idea, I had fun though”. You get up and give her a kiss on the forehead before heading out and you can't bear to look her in the eyes because you can just feel the sadness radiating off of her. 

Back in your own bed you hug your knees to your chest trying to get rid of the hole in the pit of your stomach. You did like Hitch, she was sweet and god was she good in bed but come on she’s not someone you can rely on. This is Hitch! Hitch who once missed a game because she slept in too late after a party, Hitch who sometimes just forgot about practice. There was a reason she was on your phone as “sub 1” . You were afraid of getting attached to someone like her. Especially after the number Ymir did on you. You needed someone who you knew would be there, someone who won’t let you down. Your heart couldn't take another break but also you couldn't help but feel guilty for not even giving her the chance. To take your mind off of things you decide to get up early to go practice against the backboard.

It's 7am on a Saturday and you think you’ll be alone so you’re surprised when you hear the familiar sound of the tennis ball bouncing against the back bored and your heart sinks. Who else would be here at 7am besides Ymir, but you're surprised when you turn the corner and see Hitch. She’s painting and sweaty so its obvious shes been here for a while, when she misses the ball and stops to pull another out from her shorts you say “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here” she looks down and that pang of guilt comes back to your chest. She makes her way over to the fence where you are “Well you’re always talking about how I don’t apply myself and I thought that maybe if I tried harder in tennis you’d see something worthy in me” tears are starting to form in her eyes “I just imagined maybe you’d see me actually win a game or something. Not just see me still sucking against a wall”. You put your hands up to where her fingers were poking through the chain link and place your hands over her’s. “Hitch” she perks up to meet your eyes “do you want to go on like an actual date” her lips part in surprise at your words. “Also why don’t you see if Pieck’ll sleep over at Pocks again, this time I’ll stay the night”. She’s really beautiful when she smiles “yeah I’d like that”.

[cupiditity]

Hello! Could I get a My Hero Academia matchup please?

I’m female, ESTJ, 3w4. Any gender is fine, but preferably male.

I tend to come across as friendly and polite, but with those that I’m close to, I can actually be quite dramatic and chaotic! Despite my MBTI type, I’m not particularly extroverted, and truly appreciate (and sometimes even deliberately seek out) periods of alone time. I prefer not to sugarcoat my words unless the situation calls for it. Usually more rational and practical, but deep inside me there is this one single emotional braincell that screams really (—sometime a little too) loudly all the time. My major weaknesses (amongst many others) are my stubbornness and my tendency to run away from problems until the last minute. As for my strengths...I’m a hard worker and I have a pretty solid moral compass. Whether this compass is facing the right direction, only time will tell.

I enjoy learning about history and culture (though my knowledge severely falls short compared to my passion - but that can be worked on, fortunately!), and reading about almost any topic, though there’s a special place in my heart reserved for mystery novels :) My sense of style is one of the few things I’m confident in, I’ve been told that I dress well!

My love language is words of affirmation - both to give and to receive! I have a soft spot for grand gestures and formalities in romance, and given the opportunity, will also like to express my love in these kinds of ways - in moderation, of course! I would prefer an S/O who can lend me a listening ear when I need it, but will also call me out on my bs if necessary! I’m not very comfortable with confiding in others about personal things, so I hope that they will be someone I can freely open up to. Respect for personal space is important too, and while I do enjoy intimacy to a certain extent, I don’t think I’d enjoy being with someone too clingy. I’m not sure what I can bring to the table since I have no prior experience in romance, but I’m certain that I will be able to reciprocate their love and devotion to an equal extent. My ideal relationship would be one where both of us inspire each other to be better versions of ourselves and support one another in the pursuit of our goals!

Thank you so much! 🌸

I think a good match for you is Kirishima! You and Kirishima would definitely get along personality wise since he is also very friendly and I believe you would add some flavor into his life ! Kirishima would love to go out and hang with you every so often and he would even buy the clothes you recommend to him and wear it with pride; he would trust your sense of fashion! Kirishima is definitely a man that can go hang out with his guy friends and his partner the next day, i don't see him as a clingy puppy but more of a protective man. He always gives you words of affirmation like how much he loves and adores you when you need it and whenever he sees you because hes just so adored! Kirishima would always listen to whatever you have to say/rant and he'd stay quiet till your done and then distract you for a bit with a movie or a conversation and then help you fix the problem! Hes alllll about being manly and he is definitely a feminist, he respects you and your privacy and boundaries, whenever you need space he immediately understands and tells you to let him know when you're finished so he can come back and comfort you. He is a patient guy and I think that would be perfect for you!

[totalliberationfront]

Giving and receiving freely is the basis of long term consensual community. Existing state, nonprofit and private entities were crafted to maintain the global capitalist order. These entities occasionally dole out useful material aid to a select few; however it will always be in conjunction with consolidating power for the present order. These forces manifested and maintain the carceral state. They are responsible for the tear gas, the beatings, the police unions and the mandatory minimum sentences. There is no dignity in begging for scraps from the masters table. We seek to empower not to dictate. We seek to empty every cage and grow gardens in their stead. We demand nothing short of total liberation for humans and our animal kin.

The practice of Mutual Aid is the process by which people come together to directly meet one another's needs without politicians or bosses interceding. Human beings are social animals who evolved surviving in non-hierarchical groups. We have an affinity for self care, community care and individual expression. Through coming together to meet our material, emotional and social needs we present an alternative to the racist hierarchical settler state we find ourselves in. The oppressive saga of empire, capitalism slavery and compulsory heterosexuality is a broken narrative. We seek an end to the occupation and to the exploitation of stolen land.

Mutual Aid posits that the Social Contract as envisioned by Liberals is woefully inadequate and the dictates of authoritarians and fascists are antithetical to life. We need not cede our autonomy nor our labor to exploitative systems. We need not cede our bodies to confinement. We are taught the gospel of work yet many who work go hungry. Many who have skills can't find paid work which implements them. Much of the productive activity humans engage in has devastating ecological consequences, as we do it in the interest of capital. We as communities can do better. We cannot rely on outside entities to help us. Abolishing them is necessary for our survival.

Professions serving existing entities within the present order will inherently be limited in their capacity to produce change. Individuals trained to operate in those professions often acquire skills and education which can be used to empower our communities. Many of those individuals now professionals are incentivized to hoard  their knowledge for material gain. However, material gain matters little in a dying world where one is alienated from other people. Some with privilege see through the notion that cops and politicians are their true allies. Some see the concepts of law and crime for what they are; tools of the oppressor.

In our present era where the material lives of many of these professionals has declined, while the visible accumulation of wealth by the exploiting classes has increased, many professionals are more inclined to share their knowledge. Every year they see the carceral state destroys more lives with solitary confinement, police brutality and the willful infliction of PTSD and they want to strike back. There are an array of people eager to absorb and implement their knowledge, who have not been granted the same educational or career opportunities by the system as the professional class. These folx have an equally relevant set of skills to share with professionals.

When we make an Anarchist space, dedicated to gender freedom, decolonization, prison abolition and black liberation folx inclined to share and support will find us. We keep showing up and we keep doing the real work. Direct Action and a co-occurring support network will inspire and educate. When we make time to help each other process the overlapping layers of oppression strangling us all and poisoning the earth we begin to grow. The powers that be understand how to lop the head off of vertical structures. They lie in wait for the vanguard party and the terrorist cell. Egoists and those dedicated to hierarchy recognize parallel frameworks.

Rather than work within the system or construct a parallel institution we can build dual power via Mycelic Growth. We recognize that orgs, affinity groups, networks etc.. are all necessary structures; however they are tools of liberation for the larger community and friend circles which populate them. Our relationships are the core of the revolutionary project. Maintaining those relationships as systems of support, empowerment and education is our primary task. As the powers of reaction seek to define and contain us we must be like water. We must be able to take a new form without waiting for permission from a governing assembly or leader. We will meet the needs of our neighbors and ourselves the best we can, starting today.

We share skills and knowledge at the speed of trust, seeking to undercut our own possible hierarchical gain. We encourage the flourishing of interlocking groups with interlocking values blooming independently then laying down root systems; intertwining with others. If an org becomes legitimized as a charity or nonprofit by the powers that be, that org should be an entry point to other projects. The material services that org provides needs to be grounded in an actual need while also serving as an entry point for other forms of Direct Action. We disperse zines, PDFs articles and albums hoping you will lay down new roots searching for our own.

We start with food and other basic goods. We get as many people giving those out for free as possible. We ask people what they need and give it to them. We step up the level and quality of goods. We point to our successes and the failures of the state. We occupy until extracted by colonial agents. We are there for each other when the pigs shut us down, and when we are there when its time to reorganize and reopen. Seeing that we can do these things for a few people breaks the spell. Why do we have to wait on medical care? Why can't we remodel and build until everyone is housed? Why isn't their food growing on every available patch of land? Why aren't we getting together with out neighbors and making these decisions through building consensus and direct democracy?  

It starts by handing things out and grows to producing the things we need together. It continues when we take action in the streets. Our banners hang outside of jails and prisons. Our friends stand with us in a total expression of their being. It flourishes when the community seizes a factory or stops an eviction. It won't end until whiteness is abolished.  

As we grow our thoughts deepen. Why is that we need police and prisons, when me and my friends can solve so many issues by building rapport with folx and offering mediation? Why do we allow others to hold exclusive legal rights to the application of violence and the dividing up of material goods? Our questions become statements. We will learn to heal trauma and provide community. We will learn that communities can defend themselves. We demand total abolition and we demand a new society. We won't settle for less. We want everything.

In our own time and in our own space with our own words. Grow and share. Nurture and protect.

[throughtaylor]

haylor one shot bc i love haylor more than anything in my life

(back in 2012)

I could not stop laughing as we prepared for the presentation that we had in less than 10 minutes, it was our best way to clear ourselves, despite the fact that I was always nervous to go on stage, the band did everything better for all of us. I had the typical slight panic, perhaps because I thought that my voice could go away in the middle of the show or that I would fall from tripping over my own feet, that my right foot bent with the small heel of my shoes. Many things could happen, but all the tension disappeared as soon I sang the second song, in this case: Red.

Taylor! Two minutes." They screamed in the corner of the room, noticing how Caitlin put the gadgets on her ears.

"Very clever." I mused excitedly, making a group hug with my band.

I started up the stairs to get out, breathing a few times and practicing rough movements with the microphone, sighing and getting into my starting position until the platform went up and I could get out once and for all.

"And with her new album, RED, which I'm sure everyone knows is a success, ladies and gentlemen, Taylor Swift!" I heard how the presenter's voice screamed throughout the stadium.

The platform went up slowly and I noticed how the lights were off, the screams shook my heart, making me smile slightly as I adjusted my hat. I laid my body straight, listening to the State of Grace melody spreading across all the walls and seats, making the people who absolutely flooded the entire arena scream more. I smiled without being seen, raising the microphone to start singing. Nerves? Unknown word in my dictionary.

-

-

-

"I'm never going to stop love singing Love Story." I giggled, dropping onto the couch as I drank from my water bottle.

"I like the rhythm of We are never ever getting back together... well, maybe because I like to see how fans dance and raise their hands with each We-e-e." My mother dared to tell me, giving a little laugh as soon as I nodded, completely agreeing with her.

Tonight's show at the music festival had been sensational. Nerves disappeared even with the first song and the audience could not be left behind, everything had turned inside me and I was again the same Taylor who loves to be on stage.

I momentarily distracted myself with my phone, reading the comments about the show, smiling and giving some likes on instagram along with a photograph of my red loafers, without any special caption. I checked my social media a little more, going to change to put on one of my black dresses hanging on the rack, sighing as soon as my hair settled into a ponytail, combing my bangs a few times and applying the red lipstick that was on my handbag. I was tired, but excited.

The beige leather wallet landed on my forearm, walking out of my dressing room, saying goodbye to my family and friends, thanking them again for the great show we took care of tonight.

I made my way to one of the white doors in the pale hallway, daring to pull out my phone to send a message. However, a large hand prevented that from happening, immediately catching my attention.

I smiled at once as soon as I could see the sparkle in his green eyes and his cute curls, throwing myself immediately into his arms.

"Harry." I greeted his neck, feeling his tighten more tightly on into his body.

"Great show, babe" He congratulated, pulling me away a little and keeping his hand on my waist.

"Thanks, I thought you would show up today too." I commented doubtful and a little nervous about his presence. My heart turned when I heard him laugh, seeing the innocent smile stay in line with his smile.

"I think it will be our turn next week, I am not so sure." He almost joked, making me laugh. It was then that I noticed that he was also nervous.

"And... so?" I almost laughed, thanking the heels of my loafers for a better look.

"Let's go." A warm kiss fell on my cheek, heading us towards the back of the stadium to get out.

There were only a couple of security guards and the cleaning ladies, the night in New York was cold, with no winter yet. Luckily, there was no paparazzi or at least that's what I wanted to believe. Harry kindly opened the door of his truck for me and I gladly entered it, closing the door in step.

Harry and I had been dating for a couple of months. We became friends in Los Angeles and from there we decided to have a more pleasant contact with friends, but the things began to appear differently. Until now, we had not shown ourselves together as a couple, we both knew how difficult it would be for him and me, in some way, the comments were sometimes too cruel and the relationship we had, until now, was very calm... a lot, to want to expose ourselves. Harry is a sweet, attentive and very gentlemanly man, he is always looking after me in a good way, asking me every day how I am and wishing me good luck in the shows I have had to present. It has been a sensational support and I silently told him how lucky I was to have him by my side.

"And how are you, babe?" He asked while he started driving into the streets of New York, taking my hand with a cute smile.

“I’m great. I’m very excited for the upcoming shows we have. We have already started with the Red Tour rehearsals. ” I announced happy. He looked at me happily, smiling broadly at me.

"That sounds great, I look forward to free tickets to every concert!" He joked.

"Of course." I chuckled, looking at his profile. "And how are you, love?"

"Very well, we have also had some rehearsals outside of New York, I think we will have to travel to London soon to see the stadium of the tour." He commented.

"Niall was talking to me about that." I replied thoughtfully, remembering my messages exchanged with the blonde who made me laugh more than five times for just one message.

“Talking to Niall, huh? He even tells you the good news before me.” He pretended to take offense, glaring at me under his eyelashes.

"Never!" I reproached, laughing in my seat.

I couldn't explain it but there was such a great chemistry and connection between us that… I even managed to feel it. I really like him. I don’t care about the way of life that we both led, despite a little fear that it would be a problem later, but I know that it was not going to be a pebble on our way; It was what stopped me the most to think.

"Taylor?" I heard his voice next to me. I turned right away, tilting my head to continue talking. He smiled. "We're here, I think I told you twice."

I blushed, brushing the bangs away from my eyes a little while muttering an apology, taking the black bag in my hands to hang it on my shoulder.

"You look absolutely gorgeous when you blush." I heard him say.

I got out of the car with a smile, watching the porch of his house cautiously, waiting for him to get out as well and we could continue on our way. I felt the explosion of feelings run through me as his hand reached for mine quickly, intertwining our fingers. I still wasn't used to it, I didn't deny it either, but I loved that kind of gesture. I mentally measured his hand with mine, as it was quite wide and the palm of his hand took almost all my long fingers. I laughed in my head, letting out a smile at the thought.

I waited for him to open the door, greeting me with a gesture in the space of his home, looking around with great caution. Harry was a very simple person, not conceited or money-loving, even though he knew he was someone who received a lot, since he was also in the position of young people rather than millionaires in magazines. But his house did not say that. The walls were simple and the decorations too, but it was quite spacious, reminding me of a house in Rhode Island.

"Do you want something to drink, babe, hm?" He brushed his index finger across my left arm, circling my waist from behind, hugging me. I smiled at the gesture, squeezing my hands in his, letting myself be inundated by his usual scent and the unmistakable tickle of his curls on my cheek.

"Right now I'm fine..." I whispered, concentrating on the way he danced with me without some kind of music, humming slowly in my ear, as if he were thinking of other things, concerning me.

"You know, today is our third month together, darling.” He said, lighting up a click in my head.

I blushed, not knowing it, because I had let the small detail pass, being more than sure that it was tomorrow. Without thinking twice, I turned to him, watching the playful smile on his mouth. He knew that I didn’t remember.

"You confused me!" I exclaimed in reproach, hitting him lightly on the chest in the form of a game, accepting the laughing hug he offered me.

"You had to see your face." He commented, laughing.

Smiling and happy, my lips approached into his lips, enveloping us in a colorful and loving kiss. I felt my heart race as soon as I felt the small smile in the middle of the kiss, ending up giving me small, splashed kisses on the top of my lips, hugging me around the waist as I approached him. My blue eyes were lost in his green orbs, brushing our noses as our lips shared breath and space. It made me jump inside. I loved him intensely.

"You should have this." He broke into silence. Curious, I waited for him to continue.

It was then that the paper airplane necklace that he never took off slipped, suddenly hanging it around my neck, and it stayed down, contrasting with the color of my dress. I admired him for a few seconds, raising my head to meet his big eyes and shy smile, waiting for me to say something.

"We can become two paper airplanes." I whispered to him, feeling his hands once again rest on my waist. "Thank you my love. I love it. And I love it more that it's yours, that you want to leave it for me. ” I thanked him in sincere words, kissing him one last time.

"Two paper airplanes that fly, together." Harry completed my sentence.

"I love you." I confessed.

"I love you so much, babe" He says.

My favorite moment became the instant he pushed all the furniture aside, giving us space to take off our shoes, taking our bodies and dancing, with light songs playing from the kitchen. Our lips joined in loving kisses, our noses brushed and I closed my eyes, entering his soul and wanting to know what he felt, although just being like this, here, with me, he told me more than a thousand words.

[rachelannc]

Gilmore Girls (Credit: Warner Brothers).

Call me late to the game, but I have joined the world of Stars Hollow and fallen in love with the girls we know as the Gilmore Girls, twenty years after it first debuted, and I’m not even mad about it.

Mind you, I had no intention of binging or even finishing the entire show, but as I casually watched one episode on Netflix and found how easily-digestible it was, one episode turned into three, and then it turned into every other day, and then it became a nightly ritual and, well, you know how it goes.

So grew my uncanny obsession with mother-daughter Lorelai and Rory Gilmore’s witty banter, exceptionally close relationship and charming small town, that I became so invested in their world and was able to finish the show in the two months I have returned and been quarantined in my own little small town. (A surprise for me, as someone who hardly ever watches or keeps up with a show, let alone ever binged a show. Seven seasons? Where do I even start, I thought?!)

Twenty years ago, I was just a seven-year-old girl listening to Hilary Duff and the Backstreet Boys while watching teeny-bopper shows and everything on the Disney Channel. I never really got into soapy teen dramas until (obviously) later in my life when I became a proper teenager.

My first reaction to watching Gilmore Girls? Wow. This Rory girl seems a lot like me.

Rory, the shy and introverted goody two-shoes and bookworm who loves school and always hangs out with her single mother and lives and grows up in a small town where everyone knows each other and loves her; and me, a girl who grew up in a town called Pleasant Hill. And if those Chilton uniforms didn’t remind me more of my own private school uniform? Ha, well I don’t really know what to say.

But really, the resemblances are uncanny and watching the show made me think: What would have happened if I had watched this as a girl growing up? Would I have handled situations with boys differently or treasured my girl time and female friendships a whole lot more, if I had seen Rory and Lorelai grow up, interact, and handle regular growing pains alongside me, as well?

As a first-time viewer, the writing and pacing of the show immediately stuck out. It’s incredibly quick and entertaining, witty through and through. I appreciate all of Lorelai’s references to eighties pop culture and Rory finding refuge in classic literature and the strong female characters and feminists I had so long been inspired by, too.

Moreover, it was incredibly comforting to find another person I could see myself reflected in, onscreen, growing up and making mistakes and always trying to do the right thing, but still staying true to who she was all along.

Her experience was so similar to how my adolescence had felt and been: my mom, who had given me all I ever needed to grow up, and me, just wanting to do right by her, was always responsible and loved at school, receiving attention from boys but never really ever cared for it because I was just happy reading a book or playing my guitar, ha.

And if that scene between Dean and Jess getting into a fight over Rory at a party couldn’t feel even more familiar to my high school days — when I was caught in a love triangle with boys who confessed their feelings to me on the same night, pressured me to make a decision, only for me to see their friendships fall apart right in front of me at school. Wow, that was high school in a nutshell, ha! And it was funny to see moments like that played back onscreen, happening to Rory as she had wished for none of it to happen, yet couldn’t really do anything about these boys’ feelings for her at the same time. (I feel you girl.)

The fact Rory wants to travel and pursue journalism as well couldn’t hit it home for me any more. Her university days reminded me of my own writing articles and chasing stories for my school newspaper. And when her and Paris wanted to experience “all the college experiences,” embarking on a cliche spring break trip trying to do “spring break right,” I couldn’t help but giggle as I found myself in college as well, very well knowing I am not the party type, but decided to get “all the college experience” as well, embarking on a Vegas trip with friends which, I do have to say, was a hell of a time.

There are so many moments from the show that have stuck with me, but here are a few memorable thoughts and moments I’ve had:

When Rory said, “I cannot do this alone. I need my mommy and damn it, I don’t care who knows it!” (s3 e13) I think she was speaking for all of us.

“I don’t want to be that kind of girl. That kind of girl who just falls apart because she doesn’t have a boyfriend.” (s1 e17) Yup. Yup, yup Rory. That was me.

Lane and the Kims and their lifelong friendship was just charming, and I couldn’t help but feel for the Asian best friend and strict mom who means well.

Rory and Paris and their ongoing escapades. Man, you can’t help but love them. Their spring break trip was all too relatable: Rory drinking and drunk-calling Dean for the first time and them doing spring break even if they never want to do it again because they realize they just aren’t the partying type. “It’s a college memory. I intend on having as many college memories as possible.” (s4 e17) Yeah, all too relatable. Ha.

Also Paris being that one friend we all know who is a little too much, too bossy, too aggressive, can turn people off but is also one of our very best friends? It was also incredible to see how their “hatred” (and Paris seeming to pop up everywhere Rory was, lol) turned into a real friendship over the years. I loved seeing that.

Rory’s graduation speech: “My mother never gave me any idea that I couldn’t do whatever I wanted to do or be whomever I wanted to be. She filled our house with love and fun and books and music, unflagging in her efforts to give me role models from Jane Austen to Eudora Welty to Patti Smith. As she guided me through these incredible eighteen years, I don’t know if she ever realized that the person I most wanted to be was her.” (s3 e22) That was a moment that made me just cry and tear up, for being a grateful kid myself, but also feeling just how mushy Lorelai must have been feeling as a mother, raising a good kid, all on her own. Ugh. 😭

Oh, Dean and Jess. They represent the boys we all meet and fall in love with when we’re young: Dean, the dependable boyfriend who is ready to give you everything, support you, be there for you, and may always love you even when you might take him for granted; and Jess, the said “bad boy” and mysterious romantic who leaves you hanging onto every single word that makes you fall head over heels for him, even if you know it might be bad for you.

When Rory has sex for the first time (s4 e22): It was such a big, telling, and coming-of-age moment. And you could feel that. I could feel and know exactly how she was feeling: how excited she was, how dumb it was, how one’s feelings get the best of you even when you normally think every action through and make reasons to justify it. God. I was also afraid to see how the show would handle the situation, especially Lorelai. I’m glad she was never quite overbearing to Rory and trusts her and lets her grow as her own individual, but I’m glad she put her foot down and told her how it was not okay for her to sleep with Dean, who was still a married man. #greatmothermoment

When Rory drops out of Yale and takes some time for herself:

I couldn’t have felt more seen. Going back home, bored at home all over again, finding things to preoccupy myself with until I got bored of it and wanted to move on to the next thing, because I genuinely wanted to… that feels very familiar. And it was heartwarming to see her have this moment and want it for herself. I know it may have been a controversial choice for many, but Rory’s quitting school let her evaluate her own choices, have the space and time to figure herself out — who she was beyond what everyone expects her to be — only to realize that she really does want to be a journalist. Her whole life had been predetermined by her surroundings, and we see just how hard of a worker she is, that to have this “slip-up” is actually the best thing she can do for herself — she realizes she can be and is responsible for her own actions. To experience that in college, rather than many years later down the road, is admirable.

And moreover, I appreciate how Lorelai handled the situation. She never forced Rory to do anything or made her feel bad about her decision. Rather, she let Rory have the space and time to want to go back to Yale and school to be a journalist. She realizes that no one can make that decision for her, but her. And I loved that. Another #greatmothermoment.

Even more so, when Jess surprisingly came back and tells her he’s written a book and reminds her that “this isn’t you,” (s6 e8) that moment almost broke my heart. It reminded me of a time I felt so lost myself and a boy who once knew me would be tough on me, because he cared for me and knew who I was and always have been, and wanted me to do “better” because I was better… I think we’ve all had those people who know us very well who tell us hard truths about ourselves. And we don’t really want to listen, but a part of us knows that maybe they’re actually right. 💔

I actually really liked Logan and Rory’s relationship and the sense of trust and maturity they had built since that infamous “You Jump, I Jack” life-and-death brigade episode (s5 e7). Beyond that, Rory and Logan were completely smitten with each other the whole time. They came from worlds that were incredibly similar, yet wanted to be different. I appreciate how Logan knew and acknowledged his privilege and mistakes. I appreciate how Rory made herself clear that she is a “relationship kind of girl” instead of an “every girl” and gets a boy like Logan to stop his ways. (If I had to be honest, I was never that kind of girl, either.) When they said they’d “factor each other in,” they showed ultimate support for each other. And it’s clear that they were each other’s biggest fans. (When Logan took Rory, Lorelai and Luke out for a Valentine’s Day weekend getaway? Wow.) It’s clear they have a lot of chemistry and fun together. And Logan’s smile to Rory. Ugh.

On Lorelai:

I thought Lolelai and Jason were actually kind of cute. A part of me wanted it to work out, but I knew it never would.

Oh man, I had a fat crush on Max Medina too.

I loved seeing Chris and Lorelai stick by each other throughout all those years, and actually try to make it work. He’s a good guy who means well, and it’s clear how comfortable they are with each other, but timing was never on their side.

The letter Lorelai wrote to Luke’s defense to have custody over his daughter legit brought me to tears. Luke really was there for Lorelai and saw Rory grow up. You can’t ever take that back. Ever. Ugh.

What happened between Lorelai and Chris was bound to happen, and I was actually so happy for Lorelai to be with him. I’m incredibly impressed at how the show was able to show such a raw, real and complicated feeling of never really being “in love,” so well.

Emily and Richard: what a hoot of grandparents. I loved all their comic banter. All those Friday night dinners and the show they always put on. Richard’s relationship with Rory was so warm and comforting, and Emily’s incessant complaining and nitpicking was great. But when Emily actually had a moment towards the end explaining to Lorelai how Lorelai was able to be a single mother, independent and all on her own, while she herself has always been a wife, not knowing how to be independent, couldn’t be a more self-aware moment.

After all of this, it’s incredibly refreshing to see a show like Gilmore Girls let its characters be who they are: wholeheartedly immature and charming, unabashedly flawed yet real. And while these characters could be problematic �� Lorelai is at times immature and inappropriate, yet means well; her relationship with Rory may be too codependent that Rory ends up dropping everything to tend to her mom; Rory is part of an elite society that comes from wealth and privilege; Emily constantly hates on the help; etc.

As much as the above is true, it’s still inspiring to see how Lorelai and Rory take on — and maybe even take down — their given worlds. They bicker and laugh, whine and moan, lust, laze around and criticize, but they are also incredibly real. Just as we humans can often be short-sighted in our lives, Rory and Lorelai are too. Too often we are given female characters who are either a saint or a sinner, a wife or a girlfriend, a prude or a prostitute, that with Rory and Lorelai, we get both. I think we all are at times a little annoying, yet incredibly fascinating the next. And that’s probably what has made the Gilmore Girls so beloved and such a cult-classic since its debut in 2000: Its heroines are flawed, yet deeply human, just like us all.

https://twitter.com/rachelannc/status/1295641850913501185?s=20

https://twitter.com/rachelannc/status/1292361621071790091

Thoughts I Had While Watching Seven Seasons of ‘Gilmore Girls’ for the First Time, Ever Call me late to the game, but I have joined the world of Stars Hollow and fallen in love with the girls we know as the 

[peek-mag]

A Third Person Journey to an Otherwise Rather Straight Forward Question

X armed herself with the smooth new Z-Grip medium weight ballpoint she had swiped from the LA airport Mexican restaurant and sat daunted by the question blinking at her from the blank page of her next advice piece: What is it like to fall in love again? 

She had picked the query because at first blush it appeared harmless–a simple, straight forward account of something she had experienced and so should be able to speak to. She had in fact been in love 3.5 times: a biracial soccer player who she spent the four years of high school falling asleep on the phone with; a seven year whirlwind that started as a gut punch of summer love and survived the evolution of fame and the cruelty of long-distance; a half-love with her best friend’s cousin, six years her senior, whose love it felt more interesting at the time to return than deny; and Current Boyfriend–the steamy college throwback who made an unexpected return during her first year in New York and gave her enough space to both grow to love him and feel truly herself–a first. 

Back to the question at hand. The Reader was asking if, after the dissolution of her first love, she should expect to ever fall in love again–to feel that awesome power of “first love” again?

There did seem to be some consensus amongst girlfriends that first loves, young loves, feel especially… powerful; awesome; all consuming. Being in love for the first time is like being haunted, except for instead of cold chills you get hot sweats–a warm flush to the face when you lock eyes, or touch hands. It’s dizzy and disorienting, a bit like a sickness. Here, perhaps, is the best metaphor for first love: a sickness. 

When you first fall in love, X thought, it’s like a foreign entity in your body–some new combination of chemical reactions. You have nothing in your immune system to combat this condition. And so powerless, you submit, you fall at love’s feet to be consumed by, to be enflamed by, to be at once destroyed and brought to life by… 

Yes–brought to life! The fullest version of life. Existence pressed to the inside of your skin, bursting through, totally alive, present...present in a way that makes all life before feel like a shadow; alive in a way where you can’t remember where you came from, how you got here, only that there you are, nose to nose on the mattress on the floor, window open; no noise from the street below; falling or floating you can’t quite be sure. 

What is that? What is it about a someone that detonates this chain reaction? 

It all started with a thick-haired friendship seeded in elementary school. Their playground pack “The Group” included a hot-shot loud-mouth leader-type who had, at eight years of age, the biggest crush on her. Series of innocent elementary school sleepovers continued into middle school basement hangs and then high school parents-out-of-town parties with beer, and clove cigarettes, and the Black Keys. And all the while he loved her. And she realized that because of him, this best friend, this oldest friend, this dearest friend, who now is of course over her and onto something else, that she has had, since a child, since the time she could first muster memories, someone absolutely madly in love with her. 

And how much of our attachment to first loves is our lust of youth; our nostalgia for a time when we could even be so taken over? When we faun for our first loves, X thought, aren’t we also and at the same time reaching out for the soft, round cheek of teenage; for a time when we felt with such an urgency; full of promise and potential and possibility?; a time when you loved someone and the future was a total unknown; and all you had was this love you couldn’t see the otherside of. 

So no, X concluded, you never love like your first love. But thank God. 

When you fall in love for a second, or a third, or a half time you start to understand that love will never feel the same as it moves from person to person. Forever after your first love you will now have a point of reference; your antibodies are armed, so to speak. 

The truth of any love, a lesson you learn after the first, is that with love often comes pain. The two exist entwined. They are necessary opposites that give each other meaning–pulling in opposite directions creating the tension needed to stand upright. After the pain of a first love lost perhaps now you are cautious, or choosey, or closed off. You don’t feel ready, or willing, or able. How do we ever let ourselves go through it more than once, knowing full well what it entails? 

And that, X decided, is what most distinguishes new love from first love. Why yes, Dear Reader, you will fall in love again, and no it may not be madness, may not be messy, but it will be, and what it will from now on become, is a choice. We get a bit older, get better acquainted with ourselves, build a few boundaries, and instead of slip and fall madly into love, we chose it. We choose to give it and we choose to accept it. And it feels so much freer to not be under a spell; to see clearly; to make no sacrifice of self. 

X had a theory that we love people for who we feel we are around them. And eventually your love starts to seek safety. You just want to be the most yourself possible, with someone who cares for you, and respects you, and who you also happen to be incredibly attracted to. 

Current Boyfriend was a hot summer of late nights, loud music, and empty bellies lined with cold tequila. The Manhattan skyline and his Mercedes arriving after a two hour drive; pulling up in a fitted suit and dark sunglasses; left her biting her lip Monday morning at her desk, head filled with the tangle of sheets and sweat that was their weekend. 

She was damaged and a little lonely and brutally honest. She never considered it would go anywhere, and so had nothing to prove or to hide. He seemed attracted to her sadness–seeing something she hadn’t yet noticed needed healing or even could be healed. And he read her so well; as if he had studied her for a test. She couldn’t outmatch him, and he seemed dead set on loving her. It was as though in a dream he had received some vision of their future together; knew it would be so. And so he smiled slyly with his secret, amused at her attempts to put off their inevitable. 

It was the only time she felt she didn’t have to fix someone–that this person was whole and just fine without her, but would simply be damned to give her up. In a way he still felt like a stranger to her–something separate from herself, like a piece of art she admired and adored and wanted in her home but had no hand in making and so couldn’t explain its method and many parts. 

She liked this abstraction. She liked, no, needed a relationship that was not in and of itself an identity; not a thing to feed but to enjoy. She was, for the first time, both understood and supported; cherished and released; loved and left the fuck alone. It felt so much stronger, so much surer than anything that had come before.

But would any of this answer Dear Reader’s question? Would any of this make sense? How are there any answers at all when it comes to love? And if there were, how would she know any of them? Though she had spent a lifetime with love, she knew but two simple things: it finds you in the strangest places, and it’s always exactly right at the time. 

[kittybennett]

your choice | anti-soulmate au where they weren't born with soul-mates and they meet in a group where other people who don't have them meet-up. and they come to the conclusion that they're not weirdos for not having them. cause they have the group and each other jhskfjksdf - @malcolmbrights​

ok i’m sorry this turned REALLY long but here we go.

aka: five times ev didn’t go to support group and one time she did

i.

Evelyn Reyes spends much of her sixteenth year of life staring into reflective surfaces in the vain hope that she will find a soulmark has bloomed on her skin while she wasn’t looking. Most people are born within them, though it isn’t entirely unheard of for the matching tattoos to make themselves known in the years between childhood and adolescence. A teenager already, Evelyn is a rarity, late even by the most generous of time frames, and this makes her a repository for her peers’ pity. She takes to wearing long sleeves even in the sweltering heat of summer to avoid questions, but finds that it’s all people want to talk to her about. No matter how they phrase their comforting platitudes or prying questions, it all sounds the same to her.

Are you scared that you might be utterly alone? How relieved I am that it’s you and not me.

Evelyn hates them all, but most of all she hates the guidance counselor who calls her into her office to offer ‘support’ and gives Evelyn a flyer for a group of people with deceased soulmates. It’s not the same, the counselor explains, but those in the group might understand what Evelyn is going through. They can sympathize on how horrible it is to not have a soulmate.

Her cheeks burn hot. She shoves the flyer into the pocket of her hoodie and begs to be excused. On her way home she tears the flyer into little pieces and throws it over a bridge, watching the pieces of paper flutter and land on the river below while angry, shameful tears prick at her eyes.

After that, she stops checking her body for new marks.

ii. The first man that Evelyn loves also takes pains to keep covered up. Unlike Evelyn, he actually has something to hide: a bright blue tattoo of a bird in flight. The space where it adorns his forearm is usually bandaged lest Jamie’s eager admirers find a way to replicate it and render the mark useless.

When they lie together at night, Evelyn traces the mark. It’s the closest she’s ever been to one that didn’t belong to either of her parents, and even at a young age she knew not to ask questions about theirs.

“They weren’t soulmates.” Evelyn tells her lover one night. “His died when they were little — childhood sweethearts. And my mom has never talked about hers, but I know he’s gone too. She wouldn’t have married my father or had me if she thought he was still out there.”

What she doesn’t confess hangs in the air. Jamie addresses it anyway.

“You know that’s not the reason you’re like this, right?”

Evelyn is silent but the finger that was tracing his mark stills.

“Evelyn. It’s just bad luck. Seriously.” He tilts her face so he can stare into her eyes. Jamie is rarely serious, so this sudden sobriety makes it difficult for Evelyn to hold his gaze, but she does. “Bad things happen to lots of people, and it’s not the end of the world. My cousin is widowed, and he remarried and—“

Before he can finish his story, Evelyn kisses him. And kisses him. Her distraction works.

That night Evelyn prays for the first time in well over a decade: asking for a blue bird on her forearm. ( She breaks up with Jamie a week later. Better to get out with her heart mostly intact. She never does find out what happened to that cousin of his, though sometimes she wonders if she should have let Jamie finish. )

iii.

“Would it kill you to write something happy for once? Just one ballad about summer love, or getting dicked down?”

Evelyn frowns. “You know I’m not the bubblegum pop type.”

“That’s for sure.” Her producer sighs. “Listen, you’re good. But can’t you just write a love song that isn’t super … intense and depressing? Give us something fun and light-hearted for once.”

“What if I haven’t felt that?”

“Then pretend, or talk to someone who has.” The producer fixes her with a look between pity and sternness. “Seriously, Evie. Don’t come back here without a love song. And get a therapist.”

Evelyn returns in a week with a song about the thrill of a first glance and the intense flush of devotion that follows it. The song spends several weeks on the charts and goes viral after someone creates a Tik Tok dance for it, though none of that matters to sole inspiration for the song: Evelyn’s new cat.

iv.

Her second-ever happy love song is not as commercially successful, but it is inspired by a human being this time. Naomi is brilliant, and funny, and the most talented actress of her generation (according to a Vanity Fair correspondent but Evelyn is inclined to agree). The first time she refers to Evelyn as “the love of my life”, Evelyn spends the better part of a week repeating the moment in her mind.

Naomi really should have thought to mention the caveat.

Three years later, Evelyn laughs at something a precocious child on a television program says and asks, “What would you do if your child asked you that?”

Naomi shakes her head. “Pour myself some scotch and direct them towards their other mom, or dad.”

Evelyn is frozen.

Other mom or dad. Not you. Not the love of her life. Because Evelyn is only the love of Naomi’s life … for now.

Evelyn turns off the television program. “You don’t think we’ll raise children together?”

Naomi looks sheepish. To her credit, she picks her words more carefully this time. “Evelyn … be realistic. I love you so much but - someday I’m going to meet the real thing. You can’t ask me to say no to them for you.”

Evelyn feels the same hot shame she did when she was sixteen and finally accepting that she had no soulmate and never would. This time she won’t cry, not in front of Naomi. “I’m a person. Not your training wheels.”

She moves out the next day.

v.

Dating apps aren’t much different, as it turns out. She has way too many messages from people who assume that being bisexual means she wants nothing more than to fulfill the threesome fantasies of heterosexual couples, and even more messages from people who think that because she is “unmarked”, she isn’t looking for anything serious. To be unmarked is to be written off entirely as a romantic partner, or at least as a serious one.

She deletes the dating app, but not before she posts a screenshot of her DMs to her Instagram with a caption finally addressing the rumors that she is unmarked.

I've always been private regarding the subject, but I owe it to anyone else like me to be more candid about my experiences as someone without a soulmark. Yes — I am unmarked, but not unworthy.

That night she’s flooded with messages from others like her, who thank her and repost her message. It’s humbling and uplifting all at once and Evelyn is guilty that she didn’t do it sooner. She responds to as many as she possibly can.

( One message stands out among the rest:

@ teorror: hey @reyevie​  - if you’re in nyc, my support group would love to have you! we meet at [ …. ] )

vi.

In the end, it’s not another rejection or loneliness or even solidarity that leads Evelyn to finally try talking to others like her.

It’s pettiness, and a lot of annoyance.

A former classmate posts a soulmate announcement on Facebook in which the caption describes meeting her soulmate for the first time as the single most important day of anyone’s life, the center of the human experience.

It makes Evelyn grit her teeth.

She is indignant that anyone would not consider the pain and feelings of inadequacy those words might cause for unmarked youth like the ones she’s received messages from, or her younger self. And she realizes with a pang of regret: it’s not just social media, or dating apps. It’s also the songs that people like Evelyn have written, the films and books that saturate the market that convince everyone that no other kind of love or measure of happiness matters when compared to romantic love.

As much as Evelyn craves it, she refuses to accept that it should overshadow every other aspect of her life.

She scrolls through her messages until she finds the one from @teorror again, inviting her to join his group and decides to show up and prove her point, even if she’s the only one who knows it.

To her initial horror, the group is small. There are only three people there, and Evelyn is just about ready to turn on her heel and walk away rather than join such an intimate gathering when a man bolts from his chair with an overjoyed expression on his face.

“Hey! You actually came!” He goes to her, and offers his hand to be shaked. “Can I call you Ev? Guys! This is Ev! The singer I was telling you guys about? Come on, sit down.”

The man she’s guessing is Teorror (Teo, she’ll later learn) guides her towards the others and the other man produces a chair for her and introduces himself as Rico.

Mercifully, they don’t ask her to introduce herself first or talk first. The woman next to her (Claudia) does, then Rico and Teo. Eventually they all turn to Evelyn.

“You don’t have to share if you’re not ready, Ev.” Claudia says, adopting Teo’s nickname for Evelyn. “The first time can be overwhelming.”

Ev nods, but feels she should try anyway. “I’m Evelyn — and as I guess you’ve figured, I’m also an unmarked.”

Immediately, a shadow crosses over the faces of the others. Evelyn stops.

“We try not to use that word.” Rico says gently and Evelyn can tell he’s taking care to not embarrass her. ���It isn’t good to define ourselves by what we don’t have, rather than what we do.”

“Tell us about you. Teo says you’re a singer?” Claudia coaxes helpfully.

Teo offers Evelyn another wide smile. “I used to call myself leftovers. Or spare parts. I thought it was really funny, you know? But they’re right: focusing on what you lack just sets you up for more pain.”

It’s something to think about. She’s back for the session next week.

As the months go by, she sees the group outside of meetings too, starting with a potluck at Teo’s and leading to drinks and mechanical bull rides with Rico, or sightseeing with Claudia. At first she wonders what it might be like to share a soulmark with one of them … to find a soulmate after all … but eventually, she nearly stops thinking of the marks altogether.

Those fantasies end entirely after another night of dancing, as they’re having greasy fast food and Teo slings his arm around her as he tells a story that requires exaggerated facial expressions and wild hand gestures. She laughs and almost misses the moment where Claudia returns to the table with her order and slides her a crispy taco (Ev’s favorite) and Rico picks at the tomato (which Ev’s hates) and places it beside his own burger so that Evelyn won’t have to. They know her well, she realizes, better than anyone. They love her better than anyone …and suddenly Evelyn feels overwhelmed with her love for them in return.

Here is the intimacy she’s been craving her whole life: a love that doesn’t ask her to define herself by it, or insist upon its sole importance. It simply accepts, and gives. 

Evelyn can only wonder why she ever thought this wouldn’t be enough.

[imdoingthismspaintadventure]

Worm 2.3 - In which Taylor has the best day ever

I didn’t have any time to contemplate the message I’d received from Tattletale.  The bell rang and I had to hurry to properly log off and shut down before heading to my next class.  As I gathered my stuff, I realized I had been so caught up in researching on the villains I’d met last night and in Tattletale’s message that I had forgotten to worry about getting into trouble for skipping class.  I felt a kind of resignation as I realized I would have to face the music later in the day, anyways.

Time flies when you’re having fun, or at least reading about interesting stuff. Like the fact that a member of a villanous group maaay or may not have solicited a meetup.

Also the classes you missed would eventually come back around to bite you, so it’s better that it happens now.

Madison was already in her seat as I got to the classroom.  She had a pair of girls crouching by either side of her desk, and all three of them broke into giggles as they saw me.  Bitches.

Ugh. What a great start to the next class. This is going to suck.

My seat of choice was the far right, front row, closest to the door. Lunch hour and immediately after school was when the trio tended to give me the hardest time, so I tried to sit as close as possible to the door, for a quick escape.  I spotted a puddle of orange juice on the seat, with the empty plastic bottle lying just underneath the chair.   Madison was going for a two for one.  It was both a ‘prank’ and a reminder of how they had doused me with juice and soft drinks last Friday.  Irritated, I carefully avoided looking at  Madison and took an empty seat a few rows back.

Taylor don’t you know that’s not the seat where the protagonist must be? Read up on your tropes!

Also uuuuugghhhh, the bitches supreme continue with their pathetic teasing bullshit.

Mr Gladly entered the room, he was short and young enough you could almost mistake him for another high school student.  It took a few minutes for him to start the class, and he immediately ordered us to break into groups of four to share our homework with one another and to prepare to share it with the rest of the class.  The group that had the most to contribute would win the prize he had mentioned on Friday, treats from the vending machine.

Oh and this is great too!

Honestly, the less palsy and group exercise-y my teachers are, the better. I don’t like having to do weird assignments and then share it with everybody else. The introvert in me dies a violent death thinking about it.

It was stuff like this that made Mr. Gladly my least favorite teacher.  I got the impression he’d be surprised to hear he was anyone’s least favorite teacher, but that was just one more point against him in my book.  I don’t think he comprehended why people might not like him, or how miserable group work was when you didn’t identify with any of the groups or cliques in the school.  He just figured people liked doing group work because it let them talk and hang out with their friends in class.

Seems like Taylor agrees with me! Sometimes it can be fun, but yeaaaah.

While the class got sorted, I figured I’d avoid standing around like a loser with no group to join and get something else out of the way. I approached the desk at the front of the room.

“Mr. Gladly?”

“Call me Mr. G.  Mr. Gladly is my dad,” he informed me with a sort of mock sternness.

Oh god he just did that.

“Sorry, uh, Mr. G.  I need a new textbook.”

He gave me a curious look, “What happened to your old one?”

Soaked with grape juice by a trio of harpies.  “I lost it,” I lied.

“Replacement textbooks are thirty five dollars.  I don’t expect it now, but…”

“I’ll have it for you by the end of the week,” I finished for him.

Taylor don’t lie about these things. He probably won’t do jack shit, but downplaying your situation isn’t a good thing to do!

He handed me a textbook, and I looked over the room before joining the only group with room for more: Sparky and Greg.  We had been in a group several times before, as the leftovers when all the friends and cliques had banded together.

At least you have company....?

Sparky and Greg sounds like a comedy duo, honestly.

Sparky had apparently picked up his nickname when a third grade teacher used it in an ironic sense, and it had stuck, to the point where I doubted anyone but his own mother even knew his real name.  He was a drummer, long haired, and was so out of touch with reality that you could stop talking in the middle of a sentence and he wouldn’t notice.   He just went through life in a daze, presumably until he could do his thing, which was his band.

Fun fact, the “nickname becoming his only name” is a real thing. We had a classmate we just called Pan, and I don’t know where that originated from, but it wasn’t his real name or even close. I don’t think we ever knew his real name...

School is weird.

Also he seems veeery zoned out, holy shit. This one won’t contribute anything to the group project, huh?

Greg was just the opposite.  He was smarter than average, but he had a way of saying every thought that came into his head – his train of thought didn’t have any brakes.  Or tracks.  It would have been easier to be in a group with just Sparky and essentially do the work by myself than it would be to work with Greg.

I have met a Greg. I have met at least two Gregs. We all have probably met a Greg somewhere

So we have a chillaxed drummer and an overeager fuckup. Looks like it’s time to begin the classic show “Let’s to this group essay by ourselves!”

Yaay!

I got my share of the homework out of my new backpack.  Mr. Gladly had asked us to come up with a list of ways that capes had influenced society.  In between the various steps of my getting ready for my first night out in costume, I had taken the time to fix up my art project and had come up with a fairly comprehensive list for Mr. Gladly’s homework. I had even used newspaper and magazine clippings to support my points. I felt pretty good about it.

Taylor is pretty efficient about her work, I like it.

A way in which it has influenced society is that now instead of normal crime bosses, we have regenarative metal-scaled hellfire-spewing living human dragon crime bosses. Don’t ask me how I know or why I smell of ash and smoke.

“I didn’t get much done,” Greg said, “I got distracted by this new game I got and it is really really good, it’s called Space Opera, have you played it?”

Oh--Ohno

Greg no

A full minute later he was still on the same topic, even though I wasn’t playing any attention to him or giving him any feedback on what he was saying, “…you have to understand it’s a genre, and it’s one I’ve really been getting into it lately, since I started watching this anime called – Oh, hey, Julia!”  Greg broke off from his monologue to wave with enough energy and excitement that I felt a little embarrassed to just be sitting next to him.  I turned in my seat to see one of Madison’s friends coming in, late.

Oh god this boy is a walking human disaster.

“Can I be in Madison’s group?” Julia asked Mr. Gladly.

“That wouldn’t be fair.  Greg’s group only has three people.  Help them,” Mr. Gladly said.

Julia walked over to where we were sitting and made a face.  Just loud enough for us to hear, she muttered a disgusted, “Ew.”  I felt much the same about her joining us.

nooooooo

The bad situation got even worse!!

Whyyyy

It was downhill from there.  Madison’s group moved so the four of them were sitting right next to our group, which let Julia talk with them while still sitting with us.  The presence of all the popular and attractive girls in the class just got Greg more wound up, and he began trying to insert himself into their conversation, only to get shut down or ignored.  It was embarrassing to watch.

Well this class is being all around fantastic.

If the bitches are the apocalypse then Greg is blowing the fucking trumpets.

“Greg,” I said, trying to distract him from the other group, “Here’s what I did over the weekend.  What do you think?”

I handed him the work I had done.  To his credit, he gave it a serious read.

“This is really good, Taylor,” He said, when he was done.

“Let me see,” Julia said.  Before I could stop him, Greg dutifully handed my work over to her.  I watched her glance over it, then toss it onto Madison’s table.  There were a few giggles.

NO

“Give that back,” I said.

“Give what back?” Julia said.

“Madison,” I said, ignoring Julia, “Give it back.”

Madison, cute and petite and crush of choice for half the guys in our grade, turned and managed a combined look and tone of such condescension that a grown man would have flinched, “Nobody is talking to you, Taylor.”

Aaaaaaaaaaaaa

Why are they the worst! They are masterful at being the worst!!

That was that.  Short of running to the teacher and complaining, I wasn’t going to get my work back, and anyone who considered that an option has clearly never been in high school.  Greg looked between me and the girls with a kind of panic before settling into a funk, Sparky had his head down on his desk, either asleep or close to it, and I was left fuming.  I made an attempt at trying to to salvage things, but getting Greg to focus was impossible, as he constantly tried to apologize and made lame attempts to convince the other group to give my work back.  Our time ran out, and Mr. Gladly picked out people from each group to stand up and go over what they had come up with.

*flips an infinite number of tables*

This is painful and very realistic at the same time! You sure know how to evoke gigantic feelings of frustration, Wildbow!

I sighed as Mr. Gladly picked Greg to do our group’s presentation, and was forced to watch Greg botch it badly enough that Mr. Gladly asked him to sit down before he was finished.  Greg was one of those kids I always figured made teachers groan inwardly when they raised their hands in class.  The sort of kid that took twice as long to answer as anyone else, and was often only half-right or so off-tangent that it derailed the discussion.  I couldn’t imagine what had possessed Mr. Gladly to pick Greg to do our group’s presentation.

And of course Greg is the one picked! Of couuurse.

The universe is a petty bitch like that.

Honestly Taylor, the fact that you haven’t said fuck it, and gone Exodus on the school is proof that you are a good person.

What made things worse was that I then got to watch Madison rattle off my very impressive sounding list of ways capes had changed the world.  She cribbed almost all of my stuff; fashion, economics, Tinkers and the tech boom, the fact that movies, television and magazines had been tweaked to accommodate cape celebrities, and so on.  Still, she got it wrong when explaining how law enforcement had changed.  My point had been that with qualified capes easing the workload and taking over for most high profile crises, law enforcement of all stripes were more free to train and expand their skill sets, making for smarter, more versatile cops.  Madison just made it sound like they got a lot of vacation days.

Oh fuck off Madison! At least you explained it wrong, you absolute dick.

This is just the “Taylor’s life sucks” episode, isn’t it?

Mr. Gladly named another group as the winners, by virtue of the sheer number of things they had come up with, though he made a point of saying the quality of Madison’s work was nearly good enough to count.  From there, he moved on to his lecture.

At least she didn’t win. There is some justice in the world.

A pitiful, insignificant amount...

I was steamed and I could hardly focus on the lecture, as my power crackled and tugged at my attention from the periphery of my consciousness, making me acutely aware of every bug within a tenth of a mile.  I could tune it out, but the extra concentration that took, coupled with the anger I felt towards Madison and Mr. Gladly, was distracting enough that I couldn’t focus on the lecture.  I took a cue from Sparky and put my head down on the desk.  Being as exhausted from the previous night’s activity as I was, it was all I could do to keep from dozing off.  Still, spending the class half asleep made it go by faster.  I was startled when the bell rang.

Oh shit her powers get more powerful or precise when she’s pissed off! That is very interesting

At least she can keep it in check and not have a bee accidentally give the Lung treatment of stinger to eyeball to some of these wonderful individuals.

As everyone gathered their things and began to file out, Mr. Gladly approached me and quietly said, “I’d like you to stick around for a few minutes, please.”

I just nodded and put my books away, then waited for the teacher to finish negotiating where to meet the prize winners from the class contest so he could pay for their prizes.

When it was just me and Mr. Gladly in the classroom, he cleared his throat and then told me, “I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Okay,” I replied, not sure how to respond.

!!! Is Mr. Gladly actually going to do something?!

Nice!! Good on you, Gladly, for bringing this up!

“I have something of an idea of what goes on in my classroom.  I don’t know exactly who, but I know some people are giving you a pretty hard time.”

“Sure,” I said.

“I saw the mess left on your usual seat today.  I remember a few weeks back when glue was smeared on your desk and chair.  There was also the incident that happened at the start of the year.  All of your teachers had a meeting about that.”

I couldn’t meet his gaze as he brought that last event up.  I looked at my feet.

“And I’m guessing there’s more that I don’t know about?”

Please talk about it Taylor, this cannot continue like this.

“Yeah,” I said, still looking down.  It was hard to explain how I felt about this conversation.  I was gratified, I think, that someone had brought it up, but annoyed that that someone was Mr. Gladly.  I felt kind of embarrassed too, like I had walked into a door and someone was trying too hard to make sure I was okay.

“I asked you after the glue incident.  I’m asking you again.  Would you be willing to go to the office with me, to talk with the principal and vice principal?”

Ow, Taylor you poor thing! I know exactly how you’re feeling and how much it sucks, but this situation merits the genuine concern!

It is not shameful to need help

After a few moments of consideration, I looked up and asked him, “What would happen?”

“We’d have a discussion about what’s been going on.  You would name the person or people you believe responsible, and each of them would be called in to talk to the principal, in turn.”

“And they’d get expelled?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Mr. Gladly shook his head, “If there was enough proof, they would be suspended for several days, unless they’ve done something very serious. Further offenses could lead to longer suspensions or expulsion.”

...A several day suspension isn’t going to do shit.

I gave a rueful chuckle, feeling the frustration welling up, “Great.  So they might miss a few days of school, and only if I can prove they were behind it all… and whether they get suspended or not, they feel a hundred percent justified in whatever else they do to the rat for revenge.”

Yeaah Taylor is right here. This is just going to backfire.

“If you want things to get better, Taylor, you have to start somewhere.”

“That isn’t a starting point.  It’s shooting myself in the foot,” I said, pulling my bag over my shoulder.  When he didn’t immediately respond, I left the classroom.

I have to say, they really managed to capture how schools can be Agressively, Gloriously Useless in issues like this a lot of the time

Emma, Madison, Sophia and a half dozen other girls were standing in the hall, waiting for me.

Oh my god it keeps getting worse!

How does it keep getting worse!!

[thefeedpost]

17 Tiny But Important Truths To Remember When You Think Life Sucks

Twenty20 / @Lesia.Valentain

Let’s be real guys, life’s a bitch sometimes. Am I right? As human beings, we experience ups and downs throughout our entire existence on this floating sphere through space. And sometimes when we’re really down in the dumps, it’s hard for us to remember the happy times because we naturally become laser-focused on the negatives.

Well, I am here to remind all of you that you don’t have to live that way. The following list was compiled from various pieces of advice I’ve received along my journey, most of which was when I was pretty down myself. Whether your struggles are current or ongoing, major or minor, I hope these little reminders will help you overcome this dark period you’re experiencing now.

1. Failing now does not make you a failure forever

Each individual will overcome several trials and tribulations throughout this lifetime, and sometimes we’re going to fail. But that does not mean that the things you try in the future will yield the same result. Finding the courage to try again shows that life will not be able to take you down easily. It will also instill a confidence in you that you may have lacked in the past, one that empowers you to take on other life challenges down the road.

2. You are not alone in your struggle

With over seven billion people on the planet, it is difficult to imagine that whatever you’re currently dealing with is your cross to bear alone. While you may never meet someone who is struggling the same way you are in the same time frame, you can take comfort in knowing others have experienced similar troubles. They may not all approach these obstacles in the same way you do, but it’s definitely comforting to know you don’t have to face this alone. You can take solace in knowing that there is hope, that it is possible to work this out….or at least move past whatever block currently exists in your path.

3. Even the small steps are significant 

It may feel like you have to solve every piece of your problem at once, but I have good news for you, my friend. Even taking the smallest steps in the right direction is helpful. Whether that’s specific to your struggle or not is your decision, but either way, things never seem as daunting in the light. Spending time with someone who brings you joy or even indulging in a new hobby could be a small step that leads you to find greater happiness.

4. You have people who love and support you

Ah, friends, family, loved ones in general. They’re your fellow human beings you can count on to have your back in times of struggle. Whether that’s a shoulder to cry on or a body to bury, rest easy knowing that you are not alone in your fight and these people will be there to love you through it no matter what.

5. It is okay to reach out for help

Now, because you know for a fact that you are not alone in these trying times, there is absolutely nothing wrong with making the effort to reach out to those people. It is so common to feel like a burden or a PITA (pain in the ass) by dumping your drama on your loved ones, but I assure you, you are neither of those things. There is a subsection in the contract that is your friendship with each of these individuals that ensures you they will be there should you need it. It’s quite literally part of the job description. So, stop holding back worries that you’ll be a bother to them. I can promise you that if they know you well, they can already tell something’s up anyway and will want to do whatever they can to get you back to where you need to be.

6. Some of the most successful people have been where you are

Everyone knows the success stories of those like Steve Jobs, Michael Jordan, and Oprah. But it was not something that happened overnight. Each of them experienced rough patches on their path before finding their individual successes. So it comes as no surprise that one of the points in this article would be that you too can be successful. Whether that be in your career, in love, or your life in general, each of their success stories is proof that you too can escape your current reality and work to make a better one for yourself.

7. The suck is temporary (Mostly)

Nothing lasts forever, right? At least that’s what we’ve always been told. And while it usually carries a negative connotation, in this case, it can really be a good thing. For the most part, whatever you’re currently going through will not last forever either. You will find moments of happiness and there will be times when it feels like things are on the rise. Hold on to those feelings and use them as motivation to get you out of your funk.

8. Get that shit out

Cry. Scream. Throw things. (Just not at other people, please…) Whatever it is you need to do, get that anger and sadness out of your heart. It will feel impossible to achieve true happiness if you are constantly bogged down by negativity. So go out in the field and smash that printer “Office Space” style, you’ll thank yourself for it.

9. Don’t dwell on it

As important as it is to work all that shit out of your system, it is JUST as important to recognize when you’ve exceeded your threshold of stress, emotions, whatever. A person can only take so much. Only so much can be said or done about a subject before it is time to accept that you’ve made all the effort you can and to move on with your life. Do not continue wasting energy on something that has already proved to suck the life right out of you.

10. Appreciate every good thing that happens

One good thing about being sad is that anytime something good happens, it can feel like a small victory. This can be anything from getting complimented by a stranger to having a mental breakthrough, or maybe even a creative one. Happiness comes in all forms, and even the tiniest glimpse of hope can put you in a better frame of mind. Accepting the good things that happen to you will also have a positive effect on your self esteem, giving you more confidence for the future.

11. You live and you learn.

A man named Malcolm Gladwell once said, “A lot of what is most beautiful about the world arises from struggle.” You will never experience something tough that does not teach you something. About other people, about yourself, etc. The lessons here are the most important, they are what we take with us once the tough part has ended. It’s the advice we go on to give others who struggle with the same things. Each and every point in this article is a different lesson I have learned throughout my life.

12. Times of struggle often teach us who we really are

You will never know yourself better than when it’s you against the world. Now I know that I said earlier that you would always have love and support from those closest to you, and that’s true. However, at the end of the day, no one in this life makes decisions for you but you. Regardless of advice given or feelings had by others, you will have to look deep inside yourself and find the determination to continue rising up. And in doing that, we all learn SO MUCH about ourselves. The process of our problem solving, our emotions, our ability to deal with change..People always say we should be our own best friends. I believe that, and I believe that in times of struggle you have the potential to build a bond with your soul that truly becomes unbreakable.

13. You have a unique purpose here

Every single one of us is put on this planet at this moment for some undiscovered reason. Some may never truly figure out their soul’s purpose, but we all know how to recognize someone who has. It’s easy to forget just how important you are, and how impactful your existence is to not only those around you but to this world. Maybe you’ll be the one to discover the cure for cancer, or maybe you’re going to create beautiful masterpieces that go down in history, bringing humanity to tears. Maybe you’re simply here because someone else needs you to be. Just like our quest to understand our own purpose, we rarely grasp the perspective understand just how much our presence matters to others. You matter, and you truly never know where the future could lead.

14. Exercise is good!! Or just any physical activity really…

Being sedentary does you very little good, my friend. Too often we find ourselves hidden away from the world in times of turmoil. It’s much easier to sit around watching Netflix, eating cold mac and cheese until you explode when considering the idea of actually going out and doing something when you’re depressed. Physical activity can be anything from simply taking a walk outside to yoga to taking a full-on kickboxing class. We release endorphins into our systems when we exercise, and their job is to help amp up the happiness level inside our brains. Aside from that, being active opens up more chances to meet new people, and to work through the shit hanging around inside our heads in a constructive way.

15. At the end of the day, there’s always meditation (Pro Advice via TinyBuddha’s Benson Wong)

THIS! Guys, I cannot tell you how many times I have been given this same advice. It took me literal years to yield it, and when I finally did I was shocked. I have never felt more at ease in my life! Clearing your mind to a calm state while sitting comfortably deep in thought is so cleansing for the mind and for the soul. It can give you clarity, but can also just keep you calm. There are zero negative effects from doing meditation. And you can do it whenever you’d like! As soon as you get a rhythm for it down, you could plop down in just about any space and get your brain thinking in the right direction.

16. Ultimately, you and only you are in control of your life

Sometimes unfortunate circumstances bring us down, but only you say how long you’ll stay down for. Happiness is a state of mind, my dears, and we all have to make our own efforts to bring us back to it. No matter how many times someone tells you that you have to get up, you have to get back out there, until you make the conscious effort to, it won’t happen. When you think about it that way though, it should bring you comfort. If you and only you decide how drastically something affects you, then you and only you can decide how to react. And learning how you react to things can open up so much space for you in regards to how you deal when the negativity train pulls into the station.

17. What have you got to lose?

That’s the real question, isn’t it? We have the opportunity every single day to decide that we want to get out of this funk, that this darkness we’ve lived in for so long just isn’t worth putting up with anymore. It can be very scary standing up to your demons, big or small. But I can tell you this from personal experience, nothing is scarier than staying there. Being stagnant in your unhappiness, hoping for either the end or a miracle to bring you out. It is times like those that we have to look ourselves in the mirror and decide what it is we’re willing to do to ultimately escape our own mental prison. Think about it: What do you really have to lose? If you want to find happiness again, take action to seek it. Happiness will find you.

While each of these points focused on different sections of your life, I meant what I said before about you retaining control of what kind of mind frame you choose to maintain. If you know in your heart that you want to be happy, then you fight and fight and fight until you feel it. Not just for a minute or so; give yourself more than that. Fight until happiness overwhelms you with its warmth and comfort, making you wonder why you waited so long to take that first step. No one will be able to deter you from your path once you’ve found it, not even you. And once you have it in your sights, I promise you all the struggle and darkness will be worth it.

As the wise Nas once said, “Once you make it to your point of making it, you’ll appreciate the struggle.”

Read more: thoughtcatalog.com

The post 17 Tiny But Important Truths To Remember When You Think Life Sucks appeared first on TheFeedPost.

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[collecting-stories]

New York - pt. 16 - Tommy Shelby

Request: Tommy and the reader celebrate Christmas morning with their small family. Ada and Karl make an appearance. @danyodonoghues

Able Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

"Mum! Daddy!" Careless feet trampled over your legs as they climbed up the bed. "Wake up, wake up!" A foot went into Tommy's side and you laughed as he reached a hand out and gently grabbed a small ankle, pulling the little girl down onto her bottom.  

"What's this?" He asked, looking at his daughter, who was now laying flat on her back. "Do you know what time it is bug?"

"Yes but daddy Santa's come!" Evie explained, turning her head to look at you as if you could offer her some backup in this situation.  

"Santa's come?" You asked, playing along. Tommy groaned beside you realizing he would not even get to sleep in on Christmas.  

"Yes and he's left presents for Teddy and I!" The five year old fell onto her bottom as Tommy shifted in bed, trying to bury himself further into your side. As if that would stop him from having to get up.  

"Well then, we'd best get up." You replied.  

Evelyn crawled up the bed, wiggling herself between you and Tommy, despite there being no room there. She kissed your cheek and then turned and kissed her father's. "Please daddy, we've gotta get up."

Tommy made no reply but he rolled away from both of you, climbing out of bed and crossing the room to get his trousers from the chair he'd left them on. Once he was properly dressed he came back to the bed, lifting his daughter up and over his shoulder as she laughed uncontrollably.  

"Let's let mum get dressed. You and I'll make some breakfast." He announced. "Have you woken up Aunt Ada?"

"Not yet!" Evelyn suddenly squirmed, remembering that her aunt was down the hall in the guest room with Karl. They had travelled home for Christmas this year and were staying with you. Evelyn and Karl had been thrilled about it as they both claimed to miss each other terribly, though you were certain Evelyn didn't fully remember her cousin.  

Tommy let her down and she took off down the hall, tiny feet pattering against the hard wood floor. You were alright sitting up and pulling on a pair of knee high stockings. Tommy didn't leave to make breakfast as he'd promised, instead coming over to the bed and sitting down beside you.  

"We've not even gotten to Pol's yet." He sighed, resting his head on your shoulder.  

After breakfast and present-opening the whole family was due at Polly's for the rest of the day. John and Esme and the kids would be there. Michael and Finn and Arthur, with his new wife and baby, Isaiah and Jeremiah and Lizzie. There would be Blinders and their families through the doors all day, stopping for dinner or just to exchange gifts. But first you had breakfast and present opening in your much less crowded, though just as excited, house.  

"Let's go you two, I've been promised breakfast and presents." Ada called, knocking her fist against the open bedroom door.  

"We'll be there." You promised.  

Ada disappeared down the hall, calling out that she would get Theodore from his bedroom. Tommy moved, letting you up so that you could get dressed for the rest of the day. The kids were still in the Christmas pajamas your mum had gifted them last night when you took them round for dinner. Though you had started talking to your family again Tommy refused and so you had celebrated Christmas with them the night before, just you and the kids. Knowing Ada and Karl were home your mother had shown some kindness in making a third set of pajamas for him.  

"Whose making breakfast then? I heard Evelyn say it was Tom but I'm hoping she's only kidding." Ada stated, looking over at you as you walked into the living room.  

"I'll make it." You laughed, "we wouldn't want to make ourselves sick on Christmas."  

Once breakfast was settled and everyone had eaten enough to constitute a meal it was back to the living room. Arthur had bought you the tree after you complained that Tommy was dragging his feet on it. The angel that sat atop it just barely grazed the ceiling and it took up the whole space in front of the window but you had still run out of room for ornaments. Old blown glass ones that your aunt had given you as a wedding present. A few that were hanging lower had broken when Teddy had been playing around the tree but it was still beautiful.  

Tommy sat beside you on the sofa, Ada taking up the arm chair as the three of you watched the children tear through gift wrap to find presents. Evelyn's big gift was a dollhouse that she and Karl quickly became engrossed in. It had been carved in London to look like your house. Ada sat down on the floor with the two so that she could play with them. Theodore had only received a teddy bear and he was too preoccupied tearing through paper to care about gifts at all.  

"We're going to put a betting shop in it!" Evie announced, "wait till Henry sees."  

"Henry can come here to play, it's much too large to be moving about." Tommy commented. He picked Theodore up off the ground, settling the toddler in his lap. The boy had the same blue eyes as Tommy, though so did Evelyn, and freckles running over his chubby cheeks.  

"Daddy!" Theodore made to grab at his father's face in excitement.  

"Dad, can Teddy not be allowed to play with the house?" Evelyn asked, leaning back and looking up at you.  

"What's the matter with him playing with it?"

"He'll ruin it." Karl replied. "He likes to break things."

"We'll put it up on a table." You promised. Theodore had recently adopted a destructive streak. You were certain he got it from the Shelby side of the family, given that Esme's youngest enjoyed breaking everything as well.  

"I have a present for you all," Ada announced.  

She had run the idea by you and Tommy last year when she visited. Out of all the Shelby children there were only two girls, Evelyn and Katie, and she wanted to take them to America with her. A trip across the Atlantic to New York for a month or two. While Tommy was hesitant to send his only daughter to another country, one that was across an ocean, you were much more supportive of the idea.  

There was so much that you had missed when you were younger, some from inability and some because you were too afraid. You wanted Evelyn to have all sorts of different experiences and you didn't want her to think that anything could hold her back from doing something.  

"What is it?" Evelyn asked, scooting closer to her aunt.  

"How about, after the Christmas season...you come back to New York with Karl and I?" Ada asked.  

"All the way to New York?" Evelyn asked, looking back at you and Tommy.

"You could see my house." Karl replied, eager for his cousin to say yes.

"Oh gosh, can I go?" She was up on her feet, climbing onto the sofa beside Tommy and fixing him with the biggest sad eyes she could muster.

"We've already talked about it with Aunt Ada, it's up to you." He replied.

"Yes! Yes yes! I can go to New York. Oh this is the best Christmas!" Evelyn hugged Tommy tightly, even sparing a kiss for Theodore. She crawled over them to give you a hug as well, "I love you!"  

"Thank your Aunt Ada, she's the one who'll have to put up with you." You teased.  

"Best Christmas Ever!" She exclaimed, hurrying off the sofa to give Ada and Karl both hugs as well.  

-

Just a little drabble of what Christmas is probably like in the Able Series. Also, John’s just never gonna be dead ever in my stories,

[weibeeen]

Final Brand Style Guide Project

Inspiration

Using what we have learnt from the entire module, alas the final project provided us with an avenue to create a brand identity either for ourselves or for the CNM department. I chose to create a personal brand guide because I realised that I have never really thought of making something for and out of myself (literally), and while the entire month of ideation and creative process was definitely not easy (not an understatement), I am still thankful for such a wonderful opportunity to give my abilities a test run.

So before embarking on a personal brand, I had to perform research on my own self. Using guiding questions provided in the lectures and understanding the essentiality of performing critical reflections on oneself, I knew that I wanted to create something minimalist, professional and classy. Magazine layouts and editorial designs have always attracted me, and hence, in the first FP consultation I displayed some inspirations of vintage magazines and editorial typefaces. However, a part of me realised that this idea was something I desired, but it didn’t represent me as a whole. Taking some time off to reflect again, I made my final decision to anchor my brand based on something that I really loved: food -- and in particular, BREAKFAST. Now, I was ready to start planning for my brand guide; starting off with the most important elements -- the logo, color scheme and typography.

Logo

Incorporating the vibrant and light-hearted nature of food with the minimalist and professional attributes of an editorial theme was an extremely difficult task. Thanks to the feedback of my peers, as well as inspirations on logo designs, I decided to use this logo here to helm the brand guide.

Here, the typeface of my logo provides the professional outlook, and the bite marks and the man eating the burger in the letter “b” injects the more casual and slightly fun direction using the design concept of negative space. The full stop at the end was a creative decision I performed to tie the entire logo together.

There were feedbacks from my instructors that the man in the logo may be too small and hence become unnoticeable when downsized, and that the burger’s color could possibly take on that of the entire logo. Unfortunately, I decided to stay on with my original logo format as I felt that firstly, enlarging the man makes it too distracting in my opinion and I generally feel comfortable with the spatial relations between the man and the space inside of the “b”. Secondly, I chose to change the color of the burger primarily due to contrast and recognisability, and I felt that filling it with the same color as the entire logo would not make the “burger” itself obvious.

Color Scheme

Next, for my color palette, I was looking for an overall scheme that revolved around bread, eggs and tea (my most favourite components of breakfast). Hence, using these self-took images below, I composed my color scheme as shown below.

The colors mostly evoke the vibrant and palatable nature of food, with the only exception of the blue, which was a decision I made to include an accent color that could provide a touch of professional contrast to my overall color scheme.

Typography

Lastly, for my typography, I planned to use a sans-serif font as my character style, coupled with a serif font to provide a good contrast. As I was looking up Google for certain combinations suitable for magazine themes, I came across this pair that really caught my attention.

The article was right. Super Grotesk was the unique sans-serif typeface I needed to embody the dynamic spirit of my layout, accompanied by the serif typeface, Minion Pro, to support my characters with neat and outstanding paragraph headers or prominent quotes. Thereafter, I decided to employ Gotham as the strong title typeface to ground my pages together.

Now, with all my base elements, I was ready to embark on my creative process. After long hours of looking up inspiration from Pinterest and Behance, I embarked on a food magazine theme as the layout of my brand style guide.

Front Cover

Performing a playful rendition of Time Magazine, I came up with the title “Time ...to eat” to introduce my brand guide. Using InDesign, I demarcated the margins of the magazine’s signature red borders using the Layout settings and drew out the borders using the Rectangle Tool and the Pathfinder function as shown in the screen shot below.

As my logo contained bite marks on it, I wanted to incorporate this similar design element on my cover page and hence, I decided to use donuts. Using the Quick Selection Tool on Photoshop, I traced out the donuts from the images I took, created a new layer, and exported this image as a PNG file. With this, I could attach these donuts unto my cover page without worrying about additional backgrounds.

Page 2

Inspired by a design I found online that held a photo frame with a simple quote, I decided to create one to introduce the specific theme of my brand guide. Borrowing the guide lines from InDesign, I created the base and content of the frame, and employed Drop Shadow function in the Effects panel on various elements, as seen in the screenshots below, to create a 3D effect to stimulate the frame hanging on a wall.

Words from the Editor

To formally introduce myself, and also inspired by magazine preface pages that usually feature the author/editor’s message, I also created a page to welcome readers in into what I am about to show them.

Resume

Naturally, I felt that the first thing I wanted to showcase was information about myself. Hence, the first collateral I presented was the resume. Using InDesign’s margins and guide lines, I created the various sections in a typical resume, but added my own touches, and employed the use of various “eaten donuts” to represent my various skill levels. These donuts were also used to demarcate the various pointers under my job responsibilities, to replace the typical “bullet points”. The final product will be showcased at the last segment of this blog.

Logo Ideation Process

While thinking of how to best present my logo, I was inspired by a senior’s work that featured the step-by-step logo creation process. I borrowed this idea and suddenly had this thought of using noodle strands to help the audience visualise the order of my logo ideation. These noodle strands and the fork was vectorised using Illustrator so as to efficiently remove their backgrounds and to be easily embedded unto InDesign like a clipart.

Business Card

For the name cards, I wanted to create a light and dark version, and maintain a professional and minimalist outlook. Firstly, I made use of the Rectangle Tool on Illustrator to create the bases of the cards. While I shortlisted a yellow and blue background this collateral, many of my peers found that the yellow would best represent the vibrancy of the brand and hence, I decided to employ this color. 

For the front, while inserting my logo, I found that the contrasting burger color looked very uncomfortable when downsized. Hence, I made the decision to fill the logo with a full color just for this purpose. For the back, I only wanted to retain minimal information being my name, phone number, email, and linkedin account. But after finding that it might seem a little too plain, I sought to make use of design principles of asymmetrical balance to provide a more wholistic design.

In order to create the paper-like feel for my name cards, I applied a Texturised effect unto the name cards, and dropped a small shadow to create contrast between the product and the background. I borrowed the guide lines on Illustrator to standardise the dimensions and locations of each element.

FINAL BRAND STYLE GUIDE

With that, here is my final and end product. Primarily, these pages were designed and collated on InDesign. As I wanted to stimulate a magazine-feel as much as possible, I created an A4-sized rectangle background on Illustrator, applied the Texturised filter, and pasted them on relevant pages. Other than the two donuts seen in the front and back cover that were edited using Photoshop, the remaining pictorial elements were vectorised using Illustrator.

Do observe that for the second half of the brand guide, I inserted a few quotes below the pages as my form of small interactions with the readers. However, bearing in mind also that I could not fulfil similar formatting with the “resume” section as the entire resume took up a large margin of the page, do kindly note that the titling and quote is placed in a slightly different fashion as compared to the rest.

(cover page - comments were made from my final presentation to include my logo at the front, hence I placed it below and structured it to suit the theme of a magazine front cover. I also received feedback that the background was too heavy in contrast, hence, I decided to change it to a color from my color scheme.)

(food image - this image of breakfast was used to complement the previous page with the quote on breakfast)

(food image - another breakfast food image to accompany and support the previous page that introduces my message to the readers)

(resume - vectorised donuts were used here to indicate my various skill levels, and as bullet points to my job descriptions. I received feedback from my final presentation to bold the institutions and my company and role, as well as to enlarge the relevant dates, which I rectified in this draft above.)

(logo - vectorised fork and pasta strands were used here to guide the audience’s vision to my logo ideation process, with the final logo presented the biggest at the bottom.)

(typography - for my final presentation, while many noted that the simplicity of the page was its charm, some also felt that maybe I could incorporate some visual designs to compliment the other pages. Hence, I borrowed the vectorized image of a man holding a chopstick as my symbol for “placing” and “picking” the right typography for the entire magazine. The image has also been edited to 80% opacity to not take over the spotlight of the page)

THE END

I really hope you have enjoyed this as much as I really had fun creating this. It was a rather intense month coming up with all these ideas and discerning what was effective in communicating my brand, but overall I was very grateful especially to my TA, Zicheng, for entertaining millions of my annoying emails and still being able to deliver the best advices to me, as well as my peers who constantly pointed out the rooms for improvement. It’s really a bittersweet end to this journey, but I’m forever grateful for being able to learn this in CNM and also to retain a project that I would be able to at least be proud of for a long time :-)

[dfroza]

A set of question marks (?)

were asked at the start of Today’s chapter in the reading of the Scriptures that illumines the path less traveled:

[Matthew 11]

With that, Jesus finished instructing His disciples, and He went on to preach and teach in the towns of Galilee. John, meanwhile, was still in prison. But stories about the Anointed One’s teachings and healing reached him.

So John sent his followers to question Jesus.

John’s Followers: Are You the One we have been expecting as Savior for so long? Are You the One Scripture promised would come? Or should we expect someone else?

Jesus: Go back and tell John the things you have heard and the things you have seen. Tell him you have seen the blind receive sight, the lame walk, the lepers cured, the deaf hear, the dead raised, and the good news preached to the poor. Blessed are those who understand what is afoot and stay on My narrow path.

John’s disciples left, and Jesus began to speak to a crowd about John.

Jesus: What did you go into the desert to see? Did you expect to see a reed blowing around in the wind? No? Were you expecting to see a man dressed in the finest silks? No, of course not—you find silk in the sitting rooms of palaces and mansions, not in the middle of the wilderness. So what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes. Yes, a prophet and more than a prophet. When you saw John, you saw the one whom the prophet Malachi envisioned when he said,

I will send My messenger ahead of You,

and he will prepare the way for You.

This is the truth: no one who has ever been born to a woman is greater than John the Baptist. And yet the most insignificant person in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. All of the prophets of old, all of the law—that was all prophecy leading up to the coming of John. Now, that sort of prepares us for this very point, right here and now. When John the Baptist came, the kingdom of heaven began to break in upon us, and those in power are trying to clamp down on it—why do you think John is in jail? If only you could see it—John is the Elijah, the prophet we were promised would come and prepare the way. He who has ears for the truth, let him hear.

What is this generation like? You are like children sitting in the marketplace and calling out, “When we played the flute, you did not dance; and when we sang a dirge, you did not mourn.” What I mean is this: When John came, he dressed in the clothes of a prophet, and he did not eat and drink like others but lived on honey and wild locusts. And people wondered if he was crazy, if he had been possessed by a demon. Then the Son of Man appeared—He didn’t fast, as John had, but ate with sinners and drank wine. And the people said, “This man is a glutton! He’s a drunk! And He hangs around with tax collectors and sinners, to boot.” Well, Wisdom will be vindicated by her actions—not by your opinions.

Then Jesus began to preach about the towns He’d visited. He’d performed some of His most fantastic miracles in places like Chorazin and Bethsaida, but still the people in those places hadn’t turned to God.

Jesus: Woe to you, Chorazin! And woe to you, Bethsaida! Had I gone to Tyre and Sidon and performed miracles there, they would have repented immediately, taking on sackcloth and ashes. But I tell you this: the people from Tyre and Sidon will fare better on the day of judgment than you will. And Capernaum! Do you think you will reign exalted in heaven? No, you’ll rot in hell. Had I gone to Sodom and worked miracles there, the people would have repented, and Sodom would still be standing, thriving, bustling. Well, you know what happened to Sodom. But know this—the people from Sodom will fare better on the day of judgment than you will.

And then Jesus began to pray:

Jesus: I praise You, Father—Lord of heaven and earth. You have revealed Your truths to the lowly and the ignorant, the children and the crippled, the lame and the mute. You have hidden wisdom from those who pride themselves on being so wise and learned. You did this, simply, because it pleased You. The Father has handed over everything to My care. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son—and those to whom the Son wishes to reveal the Father. Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Put My yoke upon your shoulders—it might appear heavy at first, but it is perfectly fitted to your curves. Learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble of heart. When you are yoked to Me, your weary souls will find rest. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.

The Book of Matthew, Chapter 11 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 8th chapter from the book of Ezra that documents the people who returned to the land of Israel after the Babylonian exile:

These are the family heads and those who signed up to go up with me from Babylon in the reign of Artaxerxes the king:

From the family of Phinehas: Gershom

Family of Ithamar: Daniel

Family of David: Hattush

Family of Shecaniah

Family of Parosh: Zechariah, and with him 150 men signed up

Family of Pahath-Moab: Eliehoenai son of Zerahiah, and 200 men

Family of Zattu: Shecaniah son of Jahaziel, and 300 men

Family of Adin: Ebed son of Jonathan, and 50 men

Family of Elam: Jeshaiah son of Athaliah, and 70 men

Family of Shephatiah: Zebadiah son of Michael, and 80 men

Family of Joab: Obadiah son of Jehiel, and 218 men

Family of Bani: Shelomith son of Josiphiah, and 160 men

Family of Bebai: Zechariah son of Bebai, and 28 men

Family of Azgad: Johanan son of Hakkatan, and 110 men

Family of Adonikam (bringing up the rear): their names were Eliphelet, Jeuel, Shemaiah, and 60 men

Family of Bigvai: Uthai and Zaccur, and 70 men.

I gathered them together at the canal that runs to Ahava. We camped there three days. I looked them over and found that they were all laymen and priests but no Levites. So I sent for the leaders Eliezer, Ariel, Shemaiah, Elnathan, Jarib, Elnathan, Nathan, Zechariah, and Meshullam, and for the teachers Joiarib and Elnathan. I then sent them to Iddo, who is head of the town of Casiphia, and told them what to say to Iddo and his relatives who lived there in Casiphia: “Send us ministers for The Temple of God.”

Well, the generous hand of our God was on us, and they brought back to us a wise man from the family of Mahli son of Levi, the son of Israel. His name was Sherebiah. With sons and brothers they numbered eighteen. They also brought Hashabiah and Jeshaiah of the family of Merari, with brothers and their sons, another twenty. And then there were 220 temple servants, descendants of the temple servants that David and the princes had assigned to help the Levites in their work. They were all signed up by name.

I proclaimed a fast there beside the Ahava Canal, a fast to humble ourselves before our God and pray for wise guidance for our journey—all our people and possessions. I was embarrassed to ask the king for a cavalry bodyguard to protect us from bandits on the road. We had just told the king, “Our God lovingly looks after all those who seek him, but turns away in disgust from those who leave him.”

So we fasted and prayed about these concerns. And he listened.

Then I picked twelve of the leading priests—Sherebiah and Hashabiah with ten of their brothers. I weighed out for them the silver, the gold, the vessels, and the offerings for The Temple of our God that the king, his advisors, and all the Israelites had given:

25 tons of silver

100 vessels of silver valued at three and three-quarter tons of gold

20 gold bowls weighing eighteen and a half pounds

2 vessels of bright red copper, as valuable as gold.

I said to them, “You are holy to God and these vessels are holy. The silver and gold are Freewill-Offerings to the God of your ancestors. Guard them with your lives until you’re able to weigh them out in a secure place in The Temple of our God for the priests and Levites and family heads who are in charge in Jerusalem.”

The priests and Levites took charge of all that had been weighed out to them, and prepared to deliver it to Jerusalem to The Temple of our God.

We left the Ahava Canal on the twelfth day of the first month to travel to Jerusalem. God was with us all the way and kept us safe from bandits and highwaymen.

We arrived in Jerusalem and waited there three days. On the fourth day the silver and gold and vessels were weighed out in The Temple of our God into the hands of Meremoth son of Uriah, the priest. Eleazar son of Phinehas was there with him, also the Levites Jozabad son of Jeshua and Noadiah son of Binnui. Everything was counted and weighed and the totals recorded.

When they arrived, the exiles, now returned from captivity, offered Whole-Burnt-Offerings to the God of Israel:

12 bulls, representing all Israel

96 rams

77 lambs

12 he-goats as an Absolution-Offering.

All of this was sacrificed as a Whole-Burnt-Offering to God.

They also delivered the king’s orders to the king’s provincial administration assigned to the land beyond the Euphrates. They, in turn, gave their support to the people and The Temple of God.

The Book of Ezra, Chapter 8 (The Message)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Saturday, march 13 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible, along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs

A post by John Parsons about building the space of the “heart”

From our Torah portion this week (i.e., Vayakhel) we read: “Let every wise-hearted (חֲכַם־לֵב) among you come and make all that the LORD has commanded” (Exod. 35:10). The sages comment that none of the people actually had the skills to fashion the detailed furnishings and accouterments of the sanctuary, but they had something even better – a passionate desire to do God’s will, and this enabled them to access God’s help to do what was needed. The purpose of the commandment was to involve the heart, to refine the character: “And everyone whose heart moved him brought what was needed...” (Exod. 35:22). God could have created the sanctuary "yesh me’ayin," simply out of nothing, but he wanted the heart of his people to express their desire for his presence in their midst. The same is true for the inner sanctuary of our hearts...

Just as God creates the world in chesed (עוֹלָם חֶסֶד יִבָּנֶה), so the wise of heart are able to build up the sanctuary of God. "Love builds up." Being "wise of heart" (חֲכַם־לֵב) means having emotional maturity, humility, and rightly ordered affections. Such heart wisdom does not depend on how smart you are or what sort of education you might have, but rather whether you are able to emotionally comprehend a situation, whether you are willing to allow the heart to discern the inner meaning of a message. The wise of heart are those who “build up” God's kingdom and help provide sanctuary for others...

The beginning of wisdom is the awe of the LORD (Psalm 111:10), that is, relating to reality with reverence and learning to distinguish what is sacred. Note that God does not build the mishkan directly, but He wants us to bring our hearts and creativity to the task. Practically speaking being chacham-lev (חֲכַם־לֵב), “wise of heart,” means knowing what you must do to help reveal divine beauty within your experience of life.

After Moses saw all the work that was done for the building of the Tabernacle, he blessed the people saying, “May it be the will of God that His Presence dwells within the work of your hands” (Exod. 39:33-43; Psalm 90:17). Rashi notes that even if a person feels entirely inadequate for the task, the Torah affirms that he should nevertheless do his or her part. “Every assembly for the sake of heaven must in the end stand” (Avot 4:11). When we apply our hearts to serve God, the Lord will give us the Spirit to empower our way; if we make ourselves his willing vessel, He will fill us to the full.

"Do your best, pray that it's blessed, and God will take care of the rest..." As any good cook knows, the "secret ingredient" for the tastiest food is the love that goes into making it. Likewise in "making a place for God" the most important factor is heartfelt willingness to be present before the Lord -- to show up and say, Hineini Adonai -- “Here I am, O Lord!” We first take the step of faith and then the sea will split and we will be able to walk on through. [Hebrew for Christians]

3.12.21 • Facebook

Today’s message from the Institute for Creation Research

March 13, 2021

Promised Performance

“Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.” (Philippians 1:6)

Our Lord gave this powerful promise to perform the good work that He began at and with the church at Philippi (the “you” is plural in the Greek text).

It is an earthly, temporal promise; that is, the promise is to “perfect” the good work “until the day of Jesus Christ.” The church at Philippi closed its earthly doors centuries ago. Something much more than mere continuation is pledged.

Surely our Lord has in mind His assurance that “the gates of hell” would not prevail against His church (Matthew 16:18), but there were some churches to whom Christ spoke who were in danger of losing their “candlestick” or church-hood (Revelation 2:4; 3:16). What, then, can we be assured of by this marvelous promise?

Perhaps the basic “good work” that our Lord refers to is seen in the list of commendations given to the seven churches in the letters dictated to John at the beginning of Revelation. All except Laodicea had some strengths. Even troubled Sardis had a “few names” not yet sullied and “things which remain” that were still good and worth preserving (Revelation 3:1-4). Our Lord knows all His works “from the beginning” (Acts 15:18) and sees the eternal fruit of our ministry that ripples long beyond our short earthly life (Revelation 14:13).

There is also the mystery of our being “builded together for an habitation of God through the Spirit” (Ephesians 2:22)—a “spiritual house” that produces “spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 2:5). All of this, perhaps, is what our Lord had in mind when He promised to perform the good work He had started in Philippi. HMM III