#and also it won’t even go that hard. but also might turn into the realest thing i’ll have ever written so maybe idk

[flowercrowngods]

thinking thoughts™️ again about another fic that’s way too real, and pictured eddie giving steve that understanding smile, saying , “yeah, changing the world gets a little old, doesn’t it, when the cost is your sanity.”

and steve mirrors him with a slight nod, “and when you realise you just wanna live your own life, not change everyone else’s. i feel like people shouldn’t need to take this long to realise that.”

“it’s the system, steve-o.” eddie fishes a cigarette from the pack, offering one to steve, who shakes his head with a polite smile. “people living their lives. what a rebellious thing to ask.”

steve watches him for a second, and it’s like he’s piecing together some kind of picture around him. eddie lets him; somehow he trusts steve not to get it all wrong. “you going to rehab to stick it to the man, hm?”

eddie takes a long drag of his cigarette, his eyes far away as he lets the smoke fall from his lips. “no. ‘m going to rehab because it took me too long to realise that i just wanna live my life. and because i think… because i think i’m actually ready. sounds so dumb, doesn’t it?”

“nah.” and steve sounds like he means it. eddie gets the feeling that he does. steve strikes him as someone who’s too genuine for his own good. maybe that’s his own way to keep changing the world even without that job. “sounds like you actually know what you’re talking about. that’s a good quality, you know? to get better. wanting to get better. for no one but yourself.”

“now you’re the one who sounds like he knows what he’s talking about.”

steve huffs and stuffs his hands into his pocket. “nah, man. i’m just the homeless guy who’s hot for your apartment and wants you out of the house asap so i can start my life. with your cat.”

eddie laughs as he snuffs out the cigarette beneath his boot. the keys dangle in his hand as he holds them out to steve, who looks at him, surprised.

“well, she’s yours, then.”

[gyuluster]

txt as boyfriends

requested : yes, thank you @engenemoa-forever​!

words : 1.23k words

genre : fluff, just a lil suggestive but hella hella fluff, bitsa crack too

a/n : hi good evening thank you and sorry for writing this so late ))): i hope you and all u sexc mfs enjoy <3 special mention to @soobmint for helping out with this!! her ideas are too cute not to include <3

SOOBIN

this man would never stop thanking his luck stars that he’s dating you

a total lovebug - he is at his best when he’s in a relationship, so he just can’t stop smiling or simply be happy in your presence

is extremely shy so when you show him affection he has to hide himself so you can’t see him blushing like a churchboy

on the other hand, would always want to show you the love he’s too embarrassed to accept - would never be too proud or too shy to tell you how beautiful you look every morning or whispering sweet nothings to you in the night to help you sleep

would randomly cook meals in the night to show his commitment to you - even though he works extremely hard he would immediately take over the housework if he sees you tired

the PERFECT listener - you could rant about anything and everything for HOURS and he would not even fidget, listening intently to your problems

also gives insane advice so you always turn to him - basically your free therapist

endearments galore - “my love” is his utmost favourite 

dates always include romatic-lit dinners somewhere intimate, and always end with the two of you, hand-in-hand, looking at the stars in your home

in short, this man is wholly dependent on you - you become the beacon of his life, and are every way his missing puzzle piece 

YEONJUN

you both are fucking WILD

honestly no one even doubts the two of you are going out it’s literally so OBVIOUS

this goon is the most flirtatious little fucker known to man

WILL make you sososososososo flustered all the time 

he is so bloody shameless - like he would happily argue with another over how his girlfriend is the prettiest, and not someone else’s 

a lot of contact !!! so much contact on god!!!

HAS to have his arm around you all the time, perhaps the sneaky hand lingering on you all the time

ADORES to kiss you - honestly could kiss you all day, whether it be on your forehead, nose, lips, other places

would show you the whole world - spontaneous trips to either the streets of Paris or the mountains of South America, he’s ready to take you anywhere

y’all might not agree with me on this, but i don’t think he’d be jealous at all concerning you - in fact, he’s so confident in his abilities as a great-as-fuck boyfriend that he doesn’t mind you having boys as super close friends - he knows you’ll be in his arms by the end of the night

you are his only “darling” - his muse, and the love of his life

BEOMGYU

beomgyu as a boyfriend would be the best thing of your life yet the bane of your existence at the exact same time

constantly playfighting 

like you both are at each other’s NECKS at ever waking moment - whether that be over you purposefully taking the last chip to you threatening to burn his neighbourhood down

teasing!!! the teasing never stops!!! this man will have you blushing all the time - he loves seeing you flustered so he can make fun of you which then only gets you pissed

his head is ALWAYS on your shoulder - sometimes he just falls asleep when he’s a little tired and despite you tempted to toss his head off and into the wall, you let him rest upon you

the two of you don’t have particularly loving endearments - i mean, if y’all think “prick”, “dickhead” or “cumshot” is affectionate

a massive brat - either his way or the highway homie you’re gonna have to submit to his movie choices

KING of pouts — one of those bad boys being whipped out and that’s it you’re the victim of emotional manipulation

jealous !!!! this mans gets soooooo annoyed when other guys are bantering around with you — always results in you poking fun which then leads to him sulking in the corner

super late messages at night where he sends voice notes of him singing or playing the guitar which help you fall asleep

basically he’s a massive pain in the ass but it’s a pain you don’t really wanna get rid of

TAEHYUN

okay so this man is quite different from the others because he’s not instantly comfortable

it takes him time to truly mould into the idea of a relationship, but when he does it’s literally seventh heaven

the realest — he is the one who tells you the hard truths or any upsetting news he has — even so, you only want to hear it from him because he would never sugarcoat anything from anyone, least of all you

deeply emotional — his greatest wish is to see you happy and will go to great lengths to fulfil it whether it’s just going out to get your favourite snack or helping you through a more serious problem

HATES !!!! absolutely DETESTS to see you upset — if it’s anyone specific that’s it they’re getting their shit ROCKED

super observant !! this man picks up on how you’re feeling, whether you need help or simply want to be in his presence — either way, he senses and comforts you in the best way

LOVESSSS to sing to you — for him it’s one of the most intimate acts he can offer, so at any time when you both are alone, he will play with your hair as he sings a soft melody to you

is actually kinda clingy — once he’s most himself with you he always wants to hold your hand or at least be closer to you, even in certain public areas — it makes you MELT because it means he fully accepts and sees you as his own

basically, you could not live without this man — he is the epitome of collected, trustworthy and deeply affectionate goodness

HUENINGKAI

oh my goodness

hyuka would literally never stop screaming about you

some goon could be talking about the presidential elections and hyuka will still manage to slide you into the conversation — eventually someone will tell him to shut the fuck up (he won’t listen though)

HUGS GALORE !!! this man would never stop he NEEDS to have his arms around you or how will he survive ??!?!

is never too shy or proud to declare his undying love for you — one time he shouted it a little too loud and it resulted in him getting a warning from the neighbours

no barriers !!! this man would tell you EVERYTHING about his life it does not remotely matter how insignificant it is he will report it to you

spontaneous as fuck !! wanna go midnight shopping for instant noodles in your pjs?? travel to another city on a whim of a decision? hyuka’s the one you seek

super emotional — not like taehyuns, where it is more suppressed — his is an all out spectacle — if you guys have a fight, he WILL cry his eyes out

sleepovers ALWAYS have to include the both of you making pillow forts in your bedrooms while watching some fantasy adventure — you both end up sleeping in your creation

although you will grow up, hyuka is the man you can still be a child with and enjoy yourself

[genseng-powder]

Senku and Gen: A fight? HeadCanon

I've always written hcs when I seem stuck in writing because there are days where I have the ideas but my thoughts aren't as cooperative in the creativity department. So another headcanon turned into narrative - featuring the realest aspect of every relationship ever: arguments.

Also, involving the characters of KoS with KoM merged 💖💫

• When Senku and Gen fights, they never allow it to get in the way of their meetings. Especially since they held meetings with the five generals every so often.

• They swore that their relationship shouldn't get in the way - so they can often get quick past it outside with other people

• The catch is, its obvious that they had a fight. There won't be verbal terms thrown around, but Suika and Chrome feels it but cant quite put a hand on it.

• Ukyo and Ryusui on the other hand sees what's different - theres quite a bit of charged tension, but not too thick to get in the way and stifle conversations.

• Even old man Kaseki sees what's different from when they're normal or theyre fighting.

• Gen calls Senku without any honorifics - and Senku is much more reserved and replies way too straightforward. He doesnt bother with explanations like before and goes 100% straight to the point.

• But he is also reserved in a way that he doesnt throw any jokes around.

• Gen, is immensely cheery as if to make up and cover the fact that there's something going on.

• You'd think he is extra cheerful but if you look past it like Kohaku can, you'd see how his smiles and giggles isn't quite genuine.

• As a former entertainer, its easy to pass it off and to act, but inquisitive people and people who are his friends can differentiate his performance and genuine emotions.

• Kohaku, Ukyo, Ruri and as much as he hates it, Senku.

• Senku sees his overly cheery mood and at times, it gets to his nerves that his showman smile is plastered way too permanently.

• Senku has this secret hatred for Gen's facade.

• He hates that their arguments do this - but his pride also stops him from doing anything.

• Gen also sees how Senku gets easily annoyed at the smallest things, but he never pops off.

• When Senku is about to let out a steam, he catches himself way before words he don't mean can come stumbling out - and he excuses himself to cool down.

• He doesn't want people talking to him when that happens.

• Gen acts the same - secluding himself.

• He does this when something is bothering him, going for long walks around the forest to clear his head off and maintain his composure.

• He talks to himself mostly, to get his thoughts running and sorted and this had worked for him even way before - but more often it ends up in him being a sobbing mess because he hates that they've fought.

• Senku literally loses sleep and delves further into work, making more of the energy drink he made for Kinro just to keep him running. Coffee and Monster drink didnt exist here so he might as well make his own power up drink.

• Even though he is head deep into mountains work for Kingdom of Science - every so often he'll space out and think back about his and Gen's fight.

• More often, this makes Senku hiss and crumple or break whatever he is holding onto. Its frustrating and he hates emotions and irrationality - but he hates it more that no ones hovering over his shoulders or clinging onto him.

• No one knows how long it lasts - it varies depending on their degree of fights. Sometimes, within a day, other times three days.

• No one can complain because they still get work done - Senku leading teams and Gen still boosting morale despite his being so low at that point.

• The next meeting they held, no one mentions the slightly red edges to Gen's eyes and Senku's pinkish nose.

• This time, Tsukasa and Hyoga were present, so is Kohaku and Francoise because it seems urgent.

• Its going towards the usual flow - everything is smooth and flowing until Tsukasa notices Senkus fast replies when Gen asks, and Gen's lack of honorifics towards the scientists name.

• Hyoga, being brutally honest and reveling in such charged tension, decided to add oil to the flame.

• Did you two fight?

• Senku and Gen could only look at him, looks at each other and then simultaneously and respectively answers yes and no - and everyone watched with bated breath as the tension hastily thickens up.

• No one has ever interefered when the Kingdom of Science's two founding leaders were fighting - this being a first and it had to be Hyoga who intercepts.

• It could have been more acceptable if it was Suika, but even little Suika had learnt from Francoise that when two people fight, others shouldnt interfere so she lets it be even though she's sad that Senku and Gen fought.

• Senku manages to repress his exasperated thoughts and so does Gen who brushes off everything with a clearly fake smile - but Hyoga mentioning it makes everything unbearable and everyones now walking on thin ice.

• Ryusui and Francoise decided its enough, calls for a two hour break before they get into another meeting and locks the two of them in the observatory.

• No one can leave until they make up.

///

Yep, cliffhanger. I'll probably post the making up part if I get the inspiration to write it 🤭 I like to think that Senku and Gen both has a hard time apologizing because for one, Senku is emotionally incapacitated JK HAHAHA no, but he just doesnt see it as necessary because action speaks louder than words.

Whereas Gen has his pride - even though he is probably in the wrong, he doesn't apologize for the heck of it and probably manipulates people into thinking they're the ones at fault. He doesn't do this with Senku though. It's why he is at a loss because his whole life it's what he is good at and then Senku comes in and bulldozes his bad habit.

[strawbrrysun287]

Office Chaos #1

Hi everyone!! Recently I got into writing again and decided to cross post on here and AO3! If you take the chance to read it I hope you enjoy it <3 This will be part of a series of one shots! Happy Reading <3<3<3

If there was one thing Seokjin could safely say, it was that he was a confident gay. He would always throw a wink or a kiss to baristas, those who held the door open for him, or just anyone within the distance of him if he was feeling particularly playful.

That being said he was also openly gay. In no way shape or form was he afraid or worried about showing the person he truly was. Be it soft pink off-the-shoulder sweaters, a pair of heeled boots that made his bum look like it was carved by the gods (fun fact: it was), or even a black shirt with pastel lettering literally saying (I’m Gay, Suck It).

This was amazing for his social and love life because there was no confusion platonically or sexually. However, a certain middle-aged squat ugly fuckwad who was too dense to realize sooner Seokjin’s sexuality despite all the signs decided to fire him solely for Seokjin giving a customer, a fellow gay, his number.

In his defense, the customer was cute, was hitting on him, and was even interested and gave his own number to Seokjin as well. So all in all, who could blame Seokjin? He was young, horny, and single.

But back to the original issue. He was fired for being himself which led him to where he is now. Walking down the busy streets of Seoul heading to some gaming design company for an interview as a personal assistant to the CEO. It was a major jump from a barista to PA but he had experience… in high school, he was student council president, led three clubs, and even fixed their student budget so that way they could throw a fun concert/overnight party for the graduates.. Okay, maybe that one was a little selfish. It was still experience though! College didn’t exactly go as planned but he still was involved in the radio station and another club… although he couldn’t for the life of him remember what the club was about.

As he arrived in front of the building he could feel his heart beating against his rib cage just the tiniest bit more. He was confident though, he could do this. It would be a breeze. Throw a wink or kiss at whoever was interviewing him, talk about his experience, talk up himself and his abilities, then leave with the job and start the following Monday.

Walking inside of the building left him just the slightest breathless. Fuck. Who designed this building? Who PAID for the building? Or the interior decorating? As he tried calculating it in his head he vaguely heard someone clearing their throat but didn’t pay it any attention. After a few more minutes he finally snapped out of his calculations when the throat-clearing wouldn’t stop. He was two seconds from shoving a glass of water down the person’s throat only to look around and realize the throat-clearing had been directed at him.

With a guilty smile flashed towards the main receptionist, Seokjin finally made his way up to the desk gripping the strap of his bag even tighter.

“Kim Seokjin? I’m here for an interview with a Mr. Kim? For his personal assistant?” Despite the flash of nervousness when he was caught staring into space he quickly put the confident smile back on. The receptionist seemed less than pleased though.

“Elevator down the hall to the right. Floor 35. Park Jimin will help you from there. Try not to stare off into space again, yes?” With a sinister smirk, the lady lifted her hand just to point down the hallway and Seokjin took that as a dismissal which is exactly what it was. It didn’t stop him from mumbling down the hallway the whole time though.

“Honestly? With that kind of attitude, it’s amazing someone hasn’t dumped their coffee over her by… accident... “ Once inside the elevator he hit the button for the 35th floor and listened to the boring music as the numbers flashed above the elevator doors showing what floor it just passed. Once the doors opened for the 35th floor he took a deep breath and stepped out.

Immediately he noticed an adorable guy, younger than him with bubblegum pink hair and the cutest smile when his eyes crinkled. Okay, maybe this place wasn’t all bad. That was until he heard a deep voice shouting, seemingly the pink-haired man’s name if the way his head snapped over was any indication, and then there was a body colliding with his sending him straight to the floor with the other man on top of him.

“Kim Taehyung!! You need to watch where you are going!!” Pink-haired guy’s voice rang out. Seokjin wouldn’t be surprised if the entire floor didn’t hear the shrill yell. Which seemed plausible as there were four other heads that poked out from different rooms like little peeping parrots. Well, this was turning out to be quite the impression to leave on the people he would hopefully soon be working with.

“Sorry, Jiminie! But!! We got the house! I just got the email and we can close on the house today but we have to be there within the next hour!”

“Taehyung I swear on Yoongi’s new laptop th-”

“Don’t be swearing on my things Park Jimin! I will skin you alive!!” A voice seemingly coming from nowhere yelled in offense.

“... that you better be telling the truth or else I will make you sleep our on the balcony for the rest of the week.”

“It’s real. Like really real. The realest real you can really real kind of real! But we have to GO. NOW!”

“Okay okay! Fuck. I gu-.. Oh… Hello there. I uh… kinda forgot you got thrown to the ground in the process. I hope you aren’t injured? No injuries right? Taehyung can’t afford to be sued we are closing on a house today. Uh… if I make Namjoon Hyung give you the job would you be willing to forget this entire mess? He still owes me because of that ridiculous picture I took of him a few weeks ago when he decided to get shit-faced.”

It was official. Seokjin clearly hit his head too hard on the floor and now he was in some kind of dream drama. Shouldn’t the drama involve some super hot guy? A best friend who has his own issues but they support each other no matter what? What about the chaotic couple who he questions how they are still alive? Well… he might have found the chaotic couple. But that didn’t mean anything else. Once he realized he was being spoken to he had to blink a couple of times in order to clear his head and only vaguely caught the end.

“You… you would force your boss to give me the job just so I don’t sue the guy who knocked my ass to the ground? What if I tell you I wasn’t planning on suing him anyway? Although it did kind of hurt but if you could still get your boss to give me the job that would be fantastic and I would kiss the floor you walk on because this job is desperately needed and I’m too handsome to be walking from building to building begging for a job.”

Finally getting up from the ground he rubbed the back of his head where it hit the floor before fixing the wrinkles in his shirt. As he finished getting straightened (HA) out again another deep voice that was almost addicting echoed from down the hall along with heavy footsteps and deep down Seokjin just KNEW that the person coming towards him was the big boss. AKA the one who would hopefully be signing his checks if he got the job. Before he could utter a single word bubblegum hair spoke up again.

“Namjoon Hyung! This is Kim Seokjin, your new personal assistant. Long story short, Me and Tae got the house but in his excitement he kind of barreled into your new assistant here and sent him hurtling towards the floor, and because I’m a good honest person I told him I would assure him the job.”

Namjoon stared at bubblegum hair, Jimin?? In what seemed like absolute boredom like this was a daily occurrence. Well then again, it might be. Things were already more than a little chaotic but chaos is where Jin thrived.

“Jimin. You can’t just give people jobs because Taehyung knocked them down. You have so far given away a car, an apartment, a date, a fashion shopping spree, and part of your investment in the company which I was thankfully able to get back all because Tae didn’t watch where he was going. You know, apologizing in a HEARTFELT way will do the job nine out of ten times.”

“Okay you may speak some facts but I already gave the job to Seokjin and I already read over his resume. He seems like he can tolerate you well enough and you need an assistant to start ASAP because Tae and I have to go sign for the house okay hyung? Make sure you show him the ropes and don’t fuck it up! Bye!!”

With that Seokjin and Namjoon stared as Jimin dragged Taehyung along into the elevator with a cheeky smile and flirty wave before the elevator doors closed on the image that left the pair sputtering.

“Well… I guess they won’t be back till tomorrow afternoon. At least all my morning meetings are finished so I shouldn’t have to worry too much. Ah. Kim Seokjin-sii I apologize for the uh..”

“Chaos?” Jin supplied with a cheeky grin of his own.

“I suppose that is the best possible term for what happens on the 35th floor. Since Jimin already gave you the job I am in no way able to deny it and if I’m being honest I am in desperate need of an assistant as all my paperwork is piling up and I’m not sure where the mailroom is or where the place I normally get coffee from is and the coffee here is made by my director of media and he makes it as black as his soul is what he says at least and no amount of sugar makes it any better.”

And that’s when it happened. When Jin went from being the confident flirty gay to the shy flustered panicked gay that he always read about in stories. Namjoon smiled and he had dimples. Fucking dimples. There was no way the man standing in front of him was real. Tall, handsome, successful, understanding, kind, big hands, muscled if the fabric fighting for its life stretched over Namjoon’s biceps and thighs were anything to go by, and he had fucking D I M P L E S. Who did this Kim Namjoon think he was? God? Actually, that may be true. It wasn’t until he realized he was about to suffocate did Seokjin exhale the air he was holding in before stuttering out a hasty reply.

“Assistant? Now? Like now now? Me? For you? Coffee? I’m good with coffee and with paperwork. Yeah. I can 100% do that for you, Mr. Kim. And there is no need for formalities you can just simply call me Jin as I will be working closely with you. With you. Closely. Working. Yeah. Now?”

Seokjin knew the second the last syllable left his mouth that he was an idiot. A certified idiot who shouldn’t be allowed to be the personal assistant for a business of Namjoon’s caliber but like hell, he was going to give up the opportunity to get to know the taller man and completely wow him. Fuck was he even gay? It didn’t even matter. He could figure that out later down the line but first…

“Just tell me where to sign Mr. Kim and we can begin our new… partnership as boss and assistant. I promise I’ll do everything to learn the ropes quickly to help make your life a little less hectic.”

“Namjoon is just fine Jin. Even though I’m your boss I like to keep a close relationship with those who work close with me. You will find everyone on this floor is on a first name basis and the chaos is real and alive everyday.” And there were those fucking dimples again.

Maybe Seokjin needed to send a gift basket to his homophobic ex-boss because this new adventure at Kim. Co was going to be fun.

Chaos and all.

[kattheninjalibrarian]

What it Feels Like to be Single in the Modern Christian Church

I was recently discussing singleness in the church with a friend, and it made me realize I have a lot of thoughts that I just want to get out about the subject.  I have so much more to say about this, but it’s a start.  I felt like maybe there might be other people who feel the same way about it that I do. Maybe if we all know we feel the same way, we won’t feel as alone anymore.  Take it or leave it as you wish, this is just an opinion of an older single christian woman drawn from my personal experiences.

Being single is hard.  Being 34 and single is even harder.  But being 34 and single in the modern day christian church?  Without trying to sound dramatic, it feels like your life is over.  Let me tell you what walking into church every Sunday feels like for me.  I feel like a leper.  Like I have some horrible disease that everyone is afraid of catching.  Like if someone gets caught talking to me, something bad will happen to them.  I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve tried to shake people’s hand and say good morning during greeting time and been ignored.  You know the time I’m talking about.  The time where the pastor says “say good morning to your neighbor!” and you hope that someone will just notice and say hello to you.  I also can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve been on the other end of a dirty look from a wife whose husband turned around to greet me and say hello.  No, I am not trying to steal your husband from you just because he said hi.  You could say hello to me and introduce yourself though and see that I’m not.  Maybe we could be friends.  I would like some friends.   

You see, I feel the modern church today has lost its way.  What is supposed to be a group of people coming together to encourage each other, build each other up, worship our Lord, learn about Jesus, do life together, and bring other people in to show them His love has turned into a married person’s social club.  People are more concerned with their cliques and their social status within the church than they are the reason we all supposedly go to church in the first place.  Jesus.  And if you want to be in the group, to be accepted and to be thought of as an equal....well you better have a spouse at your side.  Married couples only hang out with other married couples.  And if you’re single?  Trying to navigate your way in the midst of a sea of couple cliques to any real friendships feels nearly impossible.

It’s hard enough to be single in church at a young age, but as you get older, things really change.  The amount of times people have looked at me with great concern because I’m not married at “my age” is quite disheartening.  It seems that in the church if you aren’t married by the age of 25, something is gravely wrong with you.  And if you make it past 30, well you better accept your fate that you are going to be alone forever.  You’re thought of as left overs; not good enough for anybody to want.  If someone was going to marry you, they would’ve done it long ago.  But the thing is, it seems people don’t take into account your life story.  Maybe you weren’t a christian in your 20′s.  Maybe you don’t want to get married and you like being single.  Maybe you were married and something happened - your spouse left you or you’re a widow/widower.  Maybe you just aren’t ready.  Maybe your person just hasn’t shown up yet.  Maybe you were abused and are still healing.  

I spent two years at a church, attending every Sunday, hoping that somehow, someday I wouldn’t be sitting alone every week.  I loved the sermons.  The preaching was quite honestly the realest, most genuine and Bible based I have ever heard.  There are things that were talked about I had never heard preached from the pulpit in my entire life.  I would cry almost every week, learning more and more about what true relationship with Christ actually looked like.  I looked forward to each week eagerly.  But I was always alone.  After discussing my dilemma of feeling alone every week, someone told me that I should be the one to be proactive.  Instead of showing up every Sunday and expecting someone to come to me, I needed to go to them.  So that’s what I decided to do.  I jumped in wholeheartedly trying to find a team to serve on and a community group to join.  What I learned, though, is that sometimes that’s not enough.  As I went through the 4 week class to be able to join a team to serve on, I realized each week that I was the only single person there.  At the end of the class, I was put on a team to help out with.  I was so excited! I finally had my chance to get connected with people, to help serve and to use my gifts that God had given me.  However, after 3 weeks of helping, I never heard from the team leader again, and still haven’t to this day.  I also joined a class to be put into a community group.  Every week for 6 weeks, I was there.  I was determined to finally get involved and meet people.  I was also, again, the only single woman in the entire class full of married couples.  Every week I thought to myself, ‘Where are the single people? Where are the single women I can be friends with? And where are the single men? Are there even single men my age in this church?’  I had a very clear realization the last week of the class that being single in church makes you invisible to others when a married couple came up to me and asked me if I had been there the entire course.  When I said yes, they told me that they had never even noticed me.  At the end of the 6 weeks, I was told by the pastor there wasn’t really a place for me.  There wasn’t really a small group for me that I could join like I was looking for.  Imagine being told that there isn’t a place for you in the midst of a church body of about 1,000 people. Thankfully I did find a nice group of awesome women to hang out with eventually.

Every week at church we were given announcements about family reading plans, family park days, family retreats, marriage classes, marriage counseling, marriage sermons...you name it.  But what I noticed was the lack of resources for single people.  If we don’t get our resources, sermons and info from the church, where do you think we will turn to? The world, of course.  If we aren’t accepted and given the chance to be a part of a body at church, where do you think we will turn to?  The world.  If we don’t find our spouses and friends at church, where do you think we will turn to?  The world.  Is it right? No.  Is it what happens?  Unfortunately, yes.  And where are the single people in church anyway?  More importantly, where are the single men?  Why is there such a wide gap in the ratio of single women to single men in the church?  I suppose that question is for another day entirely, as it seems single people in church all across the United States are asking the same question.  I feel the answer is a complicated one.

I do remember a brief time where I finally did have someone to sit next to in church.  I was so happy that I was no longer sitting alone, that I had someone to share in this time with.  And I also remember that the people who I was once invisible to now wanted to have full conversations with me.  They wanted to talk to me.  I was no longer invisible.  As happy as that made me, it made me realize that we as a church really do our single people dirty.  I was the same person.  Nothing about me was different.  I hadn’t changed.  But what had changed was the fact that I was no longer sitting alone.  I was with someone.  

I suppose all this is to say....if you are feeling alone in church, feeling down on yourself, and feeling less than because you’re single, I’m here.  It doesn’t matter what you’ve gone through and why you’re single.  I am here with you, and we aren’t alone.  I want to be here for you.  I don’t want anyone else to feel the way I have.  There are people who do care about you, and who want to have friendships and relationships with you.  I know it’s difficult to find in church, but we’re out here.  Don’t give up hope.  Don’t give up on gathering together with other christians and hearing the Word of God every week.  It’s so important.  When all this is over, and we can all be in church together again, I will come find you and introduce myself.  Maybe we can sit together. 

[flying-elliska]

VENDREDI 18 :44

Lucas looks over the water, buoyed by the sounds of partying and laughter in the background. He’s going to go back to his friends soon. But he needs a minute. 

He remembers last time he was here. It seems like a lifetime ago. Feeling like his life was slipping from his hands, out of control. In the hands of a Lucas that was not him, a fake sitting on the top of his brain and forcing him to smile and laugh  - directed not by what he really wanted  but by this plastic mask made of instinctive fragments of what he thought other people wanted to see in him. An exhausting game of mirrors he had to keep in place for his own survival, and tripping at any moment could mean the end. The lie like a constant wear on his nerves, gnawing at his brain. How much do you think these people really love you ? 

Now it’s all gone. Like a storm blowing through his life, taking it all apart. He thought it was going to take him apart, too, at some point. But no. 

He’s made it through. He feels really alive again, like he’s standing in the middle of his own life for the first time in ages. And the happiness he feels is so huge he’s afraid to unfold it all yet. It will, in time. He’s missing Eliott so much right now but they have time, they really do. Ever since he was carried away by that bus, he’s had this impression of Eliott superposed on his own awareness - what is he doing at this very minute ? Changing into fresh clothes that don’t chafe under the arms, probably. Telling his parents where he’s been. Sleeping in his own room undisturbed. Maybe he’s looking at his piano, remembering where Lucas’s fingers have been. It’s like a livewire, a part of Lucas’ soul walking outside of his own body. It’s frightening and thrilling all at once. 

He gets it now. Love. It’s not about measuring up or about expectations or keeping an illusion in place. It’s not about being always the same, being predictable or invulnerable, a smooth unpenetrable surface that can weather anything. Love is riddled with flaws and holes and marks. Love, their love, is too hungry and too kind and too sharp to not eat through lies. Love is something to build on. Love is about letting someone in through the ups and downs. And he knows this is something that he’s going to have to do with Eliott, because Eliott’s vulnerability is not a choice for him a lot of the time. So he’s going to have to meet him in kind. 

He feels up to the task. He feels everything has led him to his, everything he is. Because love, love is...

VENDREDI 18:45

Eliott makes his way through the party. He can’t lie, it’s hard. He’s not too fond of crowds on his best days unless the room is dark and faces are anonymous and music overpowers talk. Parties in bright sunlight are...something else. And he can’t help but wonder what all these people know about him. 

He’s got somewhere to be, though. He was sitting on his couch at home, while his parents were doing busywork around him, keeping an eye out. He’s got his phone timer still going in his pocket, every second feeling so idle. And suddenly it was like he could feel the ghost echo of music around him. Of course, it’s not like the triangle, but...

He’s weary of overpromising. He needs Lucas to know he can’t always be pushing beyond his own boundaries, even for love. But he’s never seen anyone get it faster than his new boyfriend, either. It broke his heart a little when Lucas was clinging to him at the bus stop, so open and needy, and it was beautiful because he can still remember Lucas’ face forcing itself to be unfeeling, a few weeks ago, and the difference is stunning. And then Lucas let him go and as Eliott turned around, watching him stand there, big blue eyes brimming with tears and yet so fierce. Like a faithful lighthouse ready to weather any storm. Eliott knew. 

He knew that this was not a love that would ever keep him grounded or make him smaller or leave him when he got small. This love is every shade of the sky possible, endless. Enough trust to fly. There will be grounded days, too. But it’s not enough to scare him anymore. They’ve got so much life ahead together, and he wants Lucas to know, this is the realest thing he’s ever known. He wants to soothe all of Lucas’ worries, even though he knows he can’t. 

He’s got only one thing to offer, and for the first time he trusts it to be enough. 

I love you, Lucas. 

It sounded like a promise, and a beginning. 

And then he was sitting on the couch, brain still heavy and bruised, but he saw a path, a ray of light, and he knew he had to go. He wants to follow love now, like a sundrunk funambulist, an escape artist hopping past the shadows, wherever it might lead him. 

He finds Lucas standing at the edge of the water. God, it feels like only yesterday when he was bumping into his shoulder that first day, first lightning bolt of an impression. Something undescribable. And he was right. God he was so right. That’s his person, standing there. 

Eliott reaches out. 

VENDREDI 19:56

It’s dark again, and the lanterns have been lit, colorful haloes of light all around them. Eliott’s arm is on Lucas’ shoulder where it belongs. 

Life is good. 

Lucas can’t help feeling a little delighted at seeing Yann talk to Chloé - they’re both good people, they deserve the best - but also worried over how awkward those potential double dates could be. Although nothing would ever top their first one for that. He can picture him and Chloé making fun of it, one day, though. He laughs at the idea and Eliott catches the end of it with his lips. 

...

Eliott sees Imane standing at the edge of the party, regal but withdrawn, and his heart goes out to her. He was there not too long ago, standing on the outside troubles unnoticed. He hasn’t really talked to her in quite a while, and he realizes he misses her, and her family. Maybe in the times to come he will feel strong enough to mend the wounds of the past. Now, he just hopes she will find someone to make her feel as welcome in the world as he feels now. It’s what she deserves. He tightens his arm around Lucas’ shoulder. 

...

Lucas feels both proud and a little bit disgusted by Basile and Daphné’s newfound enthusiasm for mashing their lips together. Arthur’s told him what he missed excitedly, and Lucas can’t help but wonder why none of them ever told Basile that being an overeager sleazy horndog was maybe not the best way to get to a girl’s heart - although he has to recognize, they’ve all been stupid in that department. And the overeager part does seem to work for him. 

...

Eliott feels warm and safe here at the edge of the water. He’s enjoying getting to know Lucas’ friends better, especially Yann, who is kind and thoughtful and a bit loopy at times, which is a plus in Eliott’s books. Arthur always seems so happy for other people’s happiness. Basile might be a bit more of an aquired taste, telling Eliott about his mom right away, obviously quite low on tact but earnest enough about wanting Eliott to feel accepted.  And there’s the girls, boisterous and happy for them and busy with their own intrigues. It feels like a family. But he’s also starting to wonder how soon he can reasonably tear Lucas away from all this and bring him back to their room, any secluded room really, and catch up on all those minutes they’ve missed. 

...

Lucas is using increasingly unsubtle pressure of his arm around Eliott’s waist to drag him away from the group so he can ask if he would like to go home. Finally they find themselves standing next to Manon and Emma, huddling. He can see the tear tracks on Manon’s cheeks and wishes he could fly to London in a second and punch Charles in the face. Emma changes the subject. 

‘So Yann and Chloé, huh ?’

Lucas laughs. 

“I won’t say anything if you won’t.”

He wonders if she’s going to bring up the past in front of Eliott - this is a conversation they need to have, but not right now - but she seems happy to let sleeping dogs lie. 

“I don’t think that’s useful, really. I mean look at us and our hot new boyfriends, huh ?” 

“It’s official then, you and Alex ? Congratulations ! I’m so sorry for telling him the school thought you were a couple.”

Emma frowns at him. 

“Eliott, your boy is a snake, I hope you know.”

Eliott laughs and kisses Lucas’ temple and says nothing. 

“I’m sorry, though” Lucas says, suddenly feeling the need to be serious. “I know I was a fake for a long time, I hurt people. I hope you all know that’s not who I want to be.”

“Everyone’s a fake sometimes” Manon cuts in. “Feelings are hard.”

“Yeah, putain.” Eliott adds, and he draws Lucas closer. 

“Cheers to that then” Emma says, raising her beer. “And don’t be too smug, boys, but it seems you’ve gotten the farthest so far to figuring it out.”

“I got tired of waiting, I guess. Life is now. I want to live it. The rest I’m sure we can sort out.”

Eliott kisses him in full then, and the rest of the world slowly fades out, unthreatening and kind. 

They’ve got time. 

[bloggingwithmeg-blog]

1:37

Hey all! I know it’s been a while, but I’ve been working really hard on trying to come up with perfect article for you guys to read. This one is going to be a deep one, so everyone pick up your feet so we can jump right in.

Disclaimer: if you're close to me at all, or maybe if you aren’t even that close to me, you know I suffer from depression, anxiety and thoughts of suicide on a regular basis. This has been for as long as I can remember, probably all the way back to middle school age. I just always knew the way I felt was a little off. With that being said, I sometimes sit back and think about my life a few years ago, to six months ago, to now. 

Looking back to about two years ago, I was engaged, living with my fiancé and my cats and thinking I was just living my best life. In reality I was in a relationship with an egotistic narcissist, a liar, a cheater and someone who all together was just bringing my life and mental health to the lowest point. I never even realized how depressed I was until our relationship ended after two years. I just thought that our relationship was the way it was because that’s how it was supposed to be. I thought the yelling, fighting, name calling and abuse, both mental and physical was just “normal”. Being honest though, I can’t place all the blame on my ex. She certainly brought out the worst in me, but my mental health was also not in a good place and I wasn’t quite ready to come to terms with it. Fast forward a little bit to June 2017. Our relationship had officially ended, she had been cheating for over a month and finally decided to just leave. Between my mental health and the fact I just lost the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with, I was of course a literal disaster. I won’t bore you with all the details in-between, but I let this effect my life so badly it effected my job, my personal life and everything else that you can possibly imagine. I was afraid to face reality and more importantly, face my mental health. I started to drink more than usual for me, I started popping prescription pills, staying out until all hours of the night and just hanging out with the wrong crowds. Without boring you with all the in-between details of everything that happened, lets fast forward a bit more to January 2018.

It was the first week of January. I was still facing a lot of trouble with my mental health, obviously, because I refused to get any help. I was driving back from Tucson one night after secretly seeing my ex. It turned out to be a terrible visit, I had wasted my time and I just felt defeated with life overall. I remember I was about halfway back to Phoenix and I had my phone connected to the bluetooth in my car and it was on shuffle. Little did I know that the next song that played was going to determine the next few decisions I made in my life. Empty by Olivia O’Brien. If you haven't listened, I suggest you do, but be aware that it might be a trigger warning. This song played and I just remember balling all the way back to Phoenix. I texted my ex and told her that the following day after work I was going to have my mom take me to check in to a mental health facility. Then, I remember texting my mom and telling her about my plan, telling her I no longer wanted to live, and that I needed her to take me. All this is happening while I’m driving (I do not recommend making these decisions and texting while driving). As I’m texting my mom these plans though, I also remember thinking in the back of my head “What if I just end it now? I can drive off the road. Make it easy. End the suffering and not have to deal with the embarrassment.” The realest moment for me though? Realizing that I wasn’t afraid to die. Realizing I was more afraid of attempting to end my life and not being successful. At the end of the day, that’s what scared me the most and that’s what made me realize that something had to change. 

I went to work the next day, which was a Monday. I treated it like a normal day, tried my best to stay composed and sent my mom the links to some hospitals for her to do research on. Towards the end of the day, I went to my higher ups at work and my mangers and told them about what was happening. I told them I would be checking into a mental health facility after work and I didn’t know for sure when I would be back, but I would have my mom keep them updated. I drove straight to my mom’s work after I was done with my shift. I took a nap on one of the exam rooms beds until my mom got off work. She drove me home to pack a bag to take with me, I said goodbye to my family and we left. The whole process was incredibly boring and took almost all night. It finally got real though when they asked me to give my personal belongings to my mom and say goodbye. My mom cried and so did I. I held her as tight as I possibly could because I just didn’t want to leave her, but it was that time. I cried all night the first night there and I don’t think I got any sleep. It was difficult to open up in group therapy and to strangers about what I was feeling and the food was horrible. By the end of my 4 day stay, I was talking in group, making some friends, attending classes to keep me busy and I had started on some anti depression meds that were really helping me a lot. By the end of the day Friday, my mom and grandmother were waiting up front to pick me up and I don’t think I’d ever been so happy to see them. Believe it or not, trying to adjust to being home again was weird, even after just a few days. Now looking back, this is one of the best decisions I have ever made in my entire life. I’ve always been so embarrassed and ashamed to discuss this, but I’ve realized that I shouldn't be ashamed of something that has helped me grow so much.

Fast forward to now. I am not perfect. I still have anxiety and depression and I always will, but I am still on my meds and everyday is a learning process on how to cope and be a better me.I am still struggling with suicidal thoughts, but that is another thing I am working on and taking day by day.  It’s true when they say everything happens for a reason. Once you learn to love yourself and have respect for yourself, the right person will come along. Along this journey, I also found my spiritual side. I bought a bible and read it when I’m feeling down or like I need an extra boost of confidence to keep myself going. 

“For with God, nothing shall be impossible” Luke 1:37 

Ever since I’ve been reading the bible and praying, that is the bible verse that has stuck out to me the most. It reminds me to keep going, to push and put my faith in something bigger than myself. Over the weekend, I got “Luke 1:37″ with a semi colon, for suicide and mental health awareness, tattooed on my wrist. Now I have an everyday reminder that I am still here, I am strong and I will succeed because I have something bigger to believe in. 

My best advice to give and the biggest lessons I’ve learned after everything I’ve been through are these things:

1.) It’s okay to not be okay sometimes. It’s all about how you bounce back.

2.) DON’T BE AFRAID TO GET HELP. DON’T BE ASHAMED. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. TALK ABOUT YOUR STORY. HELP OTHERS.

3.) Tell the people around you that you love them. Never give up on someone because of their mental health. Be a friend and the best support you can be because you never know what someone is going through.

Huge shoutout to my good friend Bryce Davis for doing this amazing and meaningful tattoo for me. Everyone go check out @brycedavistattoos on Instagram because his work is amazing and he deserves all the love he can get!

[taakofromtaz]

fresh static snow chapter 2

Summary:

He didn’t even know her name, yet he felt sorry for her.

(aka Taako forgets Lup, again, and she doesn’t know how to bring him back. He is her heart, but she is also his. What kind of life is it to live without your heart?)

Chapter 2: i’ll cry for you the same

Notes: (transposed from AO3)

THIS IS SUPER UN-BETA’D!!!! i’ll proof it later i just want this posted,

again, the titles are from “fresh static snow” by porter robinson

Word count: 2877

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Sometimes Lup forgets how long Taako spent without her. Realistically, it was only a little over ten years, but the passage of time is strange and inconsistent when you’re surrounded by nothing but black curtains and your own thoughts. She’s not even sure she was aware of herself for some of her time alone, and as soon as her brother found her, she was able to regain even more of herself.

It was awful and horrifying (and terrifying) and something she would never wish on another living soul, but at least in her isolation she was able to remind herself that she had family waiting for her: a brother that made her entire world brighter, the love of her life, their assorted collection of brothers and sisters and doofy dads that she couldn’t imagine living without.

She can’t imagine spending those ten years utterly convinced that she never had anyone, that she is and always had been alone, that no one cared enough about her to watch her back or keep her safe or help her survive. Before the end of the world, when she was still trapped in her velvet prison, she could see how shattered her brother was, could see how the parts of him barely fit together, jagged pieces broken so they’d slot together roughly.

She thought that was behind them. She thought that he’d never be like that again. She was so sure they’d be able to fix those broken pieces and fill in the gaps where things went missing and help him be the person he was before Lup ever left him to begin with. All of that was Before.

Today is a Bad Day for Taako.

They’ve all had their share of Bad Days, days so horrible and terrifying that just getting out of bed is a struggle. Lup’s seen plenty of Taako’s Bad Days, days where he sleeps and sleeps and sleeps and every waking moment is spent staring blankly ahead or overthinking or sometimes even crying heartbreaking, end of the world sobs that stab deep into her heart and latch on like fish hooks. Lup’s always tried to be there for her brother on these Bad Days, always tried to be there to hold him and calm his fears and wipe his tears. Her poor, emotionally vulnerable brother, prone to sadness and introspection and self-deprecation and fear.

Today is a Bad Day for Taako, and Lup, for the first time in their lives, doesn’t know how to fix it.

He doesn’t remember her. Again. Anymore. Taako has forgotten Lup and lost several of the last few years and he’s gotten lost inside of his own head and fabricated memories and personalities and Lup is devastated. She hates that this has happened but what she hates even more is that she’s at a total loss as to what to do.

And now he’s gone.

Lup jolts off the couch, eyes wide and heart beating a staccato in her chest. “Taako?” she calls out, glancing around the living room. Nothing looks different than it did earlier, nothing out of place, no obvious signs of her brother leaving. She wonders, briefly, how he managed to pry himself out of her hold without waking her, and she shakes her head to banish the thought. Not important right now.

She pricks her ears up, listening closely for any signs of him, and quietly steps away from the couch and towards the kitchen. She doubts she’ll find him there—he’s been avoiding being alone in the kitchen ever since they moved in—but she decides to check anyway. (Maybe he will be there, she tells herself, trying to calm her racing thoughts. He still thinks he has a show. Maybe he’ll try to cook again.)

The kitchen is big and clean and new and empty. This room looks as untouched as the living room which is as relieving as it is worrying. This new Taako, the one that lived ten years without her, that thinks he grew up alone, that suffered abuse she hasn’t begun to scratch the surface of—she doesn’t know him like she used to and it kills her. She doesn’t know where this new Taako would go to hide, to get away.

The old Taako would have run off to the kitchen for a session of stress cooking or baking. The old Taako would make abhorrent amounts of food and mutter nonsense to himself if he were on the verge of a panic attack. He would move and grab and cook and he was loud and active and showy, hiding his feelings behind a lot talk and flashy magic. This new Taako is quiet and sullen and makes himself small, flinches at loud voices and flying hands, avoids the kitchen like a venomous snake, clutches his ears and chews on his lips.

She doesn’t know where the old Taako meets the new Taako and she can’t reconcile the two together. To be fair, though, she doesn’t think he can either.

This whole thing they’ve had going this past year has been ridiculously hard on him. He won’t admit it, won’t even begin to talk about it, but she can see it in the slump of his shoulders, in the way he tries to smile even when she knows he doesn’t want to, in the way he throws himself into his new endeavors and relationships and business deals. He’s hiding behind so many personas at so many times of the day that she’s not sure if she’s even seen the real Taako yet.

What she saw today, earlier on the couch? That may have been the realest he’s been in years. And he probably doesn’t even realize it.

Lup pulls to a stop, there in the kitchen, eyes staring blankly ahead. The gears in her head keep turning, roll her thought over and over, and she turns on her heel and marches back to his bedroom, keeping her footsteps light enough so it doesn’t sound like stomping, but heavy enough so that he can hear her coming.

She focuses her ears on his bedroom, tries to pick up any unusual sounds. They’re the only ones here today, so unless Barry or Kravitz show up with no warning, Lup will know whenever Taako makes a sound. She reaches his room and pauses, reaching out and putting her hand on his door. It’s shut, which is initially a good sign because it was open before, but it also makes her worry because she doesn’t know what’s on the other side.

“Taako?” she asks, trying to keep her voice soft while also audible through the door. “It’s me, Lup. Can I come in?”

She lays an ear flat against the door and waits. There’s a muffled sniffle, so quiet she’s not sure she would have heard it if she’d stood back, and then he’s saying, “Door’s open.” His voice is utterly wrecked and she tries to keep the frown off her face as she twists the handle and steps inside the room.

It’s darker than she expected—the curtains and blinds are drawn tightly closed—but darkvision renders that sort of problem unimportant. She latches the door behind her and leans back as she surveys the room. All the clothes have been picked through—probably from earlier, when he woke up in an unfamiliar place wearing nothing but sleeping clothes—and the bed is empty of its sheets and blankets.

She knows her brother is here; she heard him. So where…? This room, she remembers, has a walk in closet. It’s the second biggest room in the house, following the master suite, and when she and Barry bought the house—because it had been something the two of them talked about, dreamed about, sometimes with Taako, other times without—they both knew that the three of them would live together. Barry and Lup would get the master suite, having couple’s seniority, and Taako would take the next best thing. (Really, the only difference between the two rooms is the size of the windows, and Taako doesn’t particularly care either way.)

(This house is big enough for their entire ragtag family, they made sure of it. It’s multiple stories high and boasts several bedrooms—some of them being bonus rooms converted to bedrooms by Magnus himself—but it’s the only thing that Lup and Barry had really, truly wanted after over was over and the Hunger was finally gone.)

Lup finds Taako in the darkest corner of the closet, wrapped tightly in his nest of blankets, hands clenched painfully around his ears. Lup winces at the sight and she wants to yank his hands away, but she realizes she needs to be tactful. One wrong move and he might lose whatever faith she’s managed to gain.

“Taako? You in there, sweetie?” She watches his face to gauge his reaction, but either he’s gotten better at making his face carefully blank, she’s gotten rusty, or he’s dissociating so hard right now she’ll be lucky if he knows his own name.

“Not really,” he says, and fuck, he sounds so small and lost. She hates it, hates everything about this, but what the fuck can she do? She left, she wasn’t there for him, she wasn’t there when he forgot about her the first time. By the time they could talk again, actually talk with words back and forth and not scorched cryptically on a wall, he already remembered her and knew who she is. She doesn’t know how to deal with this Taako. She’s never had to.

Lup crouches down to his level and tilts her head to look up into his face. His eyes are squeezed shut and there are wet track lines running down his face and she has to take a deep breath to keep from crying too. “Hey,” she says, voice little more than a breath. “Can I come in?” She points at the blankets and pinches a loose end between two fingers.

Taako peels his eyes open and stares down at where she grabbed the blanket. It takes him a minute, but eventually he nods and takes a hand from his ears to open his cocoon up to her. She offers him a smile and takes over positioning herself under the blankets with him, wrapping them both up as tight as she can before taking his hands in hers.

“Don’t do that,” she gently tells him, inspecting the ear closest to her. She can see the individual marks of each of his fingers and it makes her sick. He never did this before, not when they were together. She brushes his ears with a featherlight touch and he flinches, hard, and tugs at his hands where they’re both held in one of hers. “Sorry, babe, I won’t do it again.” She has to hold her breath for several counts to calm down.

“My head hurts.” His voice is flat and dull hoarse.

She cards a hand through his hair. “Still?” He nods. She presses a kiss to his temple. “I could get you some pain killers?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t leave.” He shifts his hands out of her grip to hold her instead. “Stay here. Help me remember.” He finally, finally, looks away from their hands and into her face. Just like every other time he’s tried to look at her today, his eyes don’t focus on her face, irises bouncing around from place to place. “Your face is hard to look at,” he told her earlier. They two of them look so much alike—what did he see when he looked in the mirror?

Lup takes a deep breath, holds in, and lets it out slowly. “Okay,” she says, and presses close to him, pins him between her body and the wall. He pushes back, ever so slightly, and she knows that it means he’s trusting her. For right now, that’s all she can hope for.

She spends the next few hours telling her brother every single interesting thing about the two of them that she can remember, every important life event, both good and bad, and regaling him with tales of the adventures they’d all gotten up to during their one hundred years aboard the Starblaster.

She tactfully skips over the ten years that follow, and tells him instead of his recent accomplishments; the plans to renew his show, rebranded as “Sizzle it Up with Taako and Lup” (she’s excited to do this with him, this thing that he used to do and loved so much he wants to do it again), his magic school, his friendship with Ren and her subsequent adoption by the two of them.

Lup tells Taako about Angus McDonald, his beautiful magic boy, about how whip smart he is, how kind and compassionate he is, how he’s only twelve years old with his whole life ahead of him yet he’s already accomplished so much. She talks about him and she smiles and talks until he smiles too.

Lup tells Taako about Kravitz and their meeting and their first date that she almost ruined. Then she has to tell Taako about how she ruined it, about being a lich, about being trapped in an umbrella for a long, long time. She only meant to skim the top, to drop the facts and move on, but Taako squeezes her hand, tries to catch her eye, says, “Tell me about it,” and so she does.

She tells him about how, for a long time, she wasn’t aware of anything. How she slowly woke up, and regained sight and sound and her sense of self. She describes the black curtains, mumbles about her fear and anger and frustration, haltingly expresses how much she hated it there and the loss of her family and how lost she felt until he found her again. She tells him about how she was there for him, however she could be, in his adventures and how he eventually freed her.

Eventually, she runs out of things to say and falls silent. The closet makes the sudden absence of words feel heavy and muted and it makes her ears ring. Even since getting out of the staff, she’s hated total silence. Usually she’s fine—birds will chirp outside or the sound of Barry sleeping beside her keeps her calm—but this… This is different.

Her distress must’ve shown on her face because the next thing she knows, Taako is wrapping her in a hug and pressing his face close to hers, his breath brushing her ears. “It’s okay, Lulu. It’s going to be okay.”

“K-Koko?” She wants him to be better now. She wants him to remember, to be the brother she might not know anymore but she’s trying to relearn. “Are you—is it—do you remember me?”

He doesn’t answer for a minute and only the constant sweep of his exhales across her skin keep her grounded. “Not completely,” he says, breaking her heart just a little more, “but I’m getting there.”

“I know I’ve said this before but I need to say it again,” Lup says, cupping his face in her hands and looking into his eyes, one green and one silver and the opposite of hers. “Taako, you are my heart. No matter what happens, whether you remember me or not, you’re the one that makes my entire world keep turning.”

She can see the moment he starts crying, but she doesn’t say anything, just rubs them away with her thumbs. “You’re mine, too,” he tells her wrapping his fingers around her wrists. “When I didn’t know you, I thought I grew up alone. It was awful, Lulu. I don’t want to have grown up with you. It fucking sucked.”

Lup presses a kiss to his forehead and holds him there. “I know, babe, I know.” What kind of life would it be to live without your heart? She can’t even fathom the idea and yet her brother lived it.

Taako’s breath hitches and he forces himself to calm, taking deep breaths. “Lup, I hate this. I don’t want to forget about you again. I thought this was never going to happen again.” He tightens his grip. “It felt like I was trapped in my own fucking head. I didn’t know where I was or who you were or what was happening.” He’s trying not to cry again. She knows him well enough to know that he’s scared shitless, terrified of losing her and himself so suddenly and easily.

“If it does,” she says, hoping that it never will (and it does, eventually, but she’s better prepared in the future), “then I’ll be right there with you. We’re a part of each other. We’re a team. You don’t have to face this alone. Never again.”

Taako nods and sighs and closes his eyes. He leans into her and she can feel him shaking. “I love you, Lulu,” he whispers against her chest, listening to the beat of her heart.

“I love you, too.” Lup smiles and brushes her hands through his hair. “Now let’s go make some food. I’m starving.”

He pulls back and gives her a grin. Things might not be okay, not yet, but they will be. Eventually.

[mstrangebird]

quarantine days

i’m probably gonna use this site frequent than ever since i’m so lack of entertainment and things to do now. first of all, welcome to the most boring page you will ever find bcs it’s only orbiting around me. second of all, hope you all are doing fine. the world isn’t in the nicest situation right now due to the corona virus spreading all over the globe and unfortunately, it’s not getting any better (well, in my country case).

i’ve been home for like four days and i already miss my little quiet lonely room that i rule as i please. it’s almost a year since the last time i entered this house. i’ve been trying to avoid to go home bcs it didn’t make me comfortable and sometimes, too loud. even the silence, as i’m experiencing right now at 7.36 in the evening, it still feels loud. it still feels like everyone shouting at me to graduate even they don’t declare it. and even though they don’t see what i do in my room or in this reading/studying room i’m at right now, i can sense their eyes are on me; spying every single move i make.

but what else that i can do? i’m 23 years old ‘kid’ with no degree or job and all i can do is lean onto the parents like i’m only 5. embarrassing, i know. but i need to point it out somehow to make me embrace the circumstances and force me to do better. guess i need to feel pathetic about myself to move forward. that’s what i’m doing right now and i hope i could get out of this bubble as soon as possible.

before i got home, i already did this self-quarantine for like 2 weeks in my boarding house. it was okay and not at the same time. my record for staying inside was like 3 months when i was at home. but that was easy bcs i still got what i needed, food and stuff, from parents. but when i was alone, the food part was one of the hardest. i needed to plan my grocery shopping for at least a week ahead, so i won’t go out very often. and my life was circling around eggs, instant noodle, sardines, sometimes tempeh and some other but vegetables. the problem was there was no fridge in my boarding house, so i could only store those who have the longest period before the expiration date. it was exciting at first since it was what i’ve been doing past 2 years, i mean the stay at home part, and cooking my own meal was a fun thing to do. but i also started to get bored with the routine and tired of making food. i took a mini karaoke session every time (and i didn’t care about the time), so i won’t lose my voice and to release the stress. and for the cooking part, i only cooked when i felt hungry and just stuffed everything to my mouth which later made me worried about the weight i might gain from this habit (i’m now still).

the hardest part was it’s forced (IS still). i like being at home & alone bcs i want to, not bcs someone tells me to. it’s so frustrating that i can’t even be alone in a crowd. i know some extrovert friends that i know started to feel crazy at the 3rd or 4th day of quarantine, but believe me, it’s even hard for someone who always enjoys being at home, so yeah conclusion: it’s hard for everyone. trapped in a boarding house was less intimidating since i was ALL alone and no one really cared about what i do, but being at home is a different story. i’ve stated above.

since i haven’t seen a professional, i can’t say that i have an anxiety, but the most realest side effect of this is... the bad thoughts come in very often as if it's not already. it was hard during the normal days and now that there’s only me and my one and only head without the distraction of outside world, the scenario is just getting interesting day by day. it hurts my head and my heart, it can’t be stopped unless i sleep. been trying to make myself doing the overdue thesis, it only gets worse since this is one of the factors why i feel that way. every time i open the file, i start to think about what i’ve been doing all this time that i still stuck in the same exact position like 2 years ago which caused me staring at the screen for like hours and the only thing that brings me back to life is the needs of sipping my coffee that i place near.

and the other worse part is the os that is installed in my laptop is only the trial version that now is out of date, so i can’t open the file in a normal word app and it makes me use the google docs, but the wifi is barely alive and it always tests my patience. if opening the google docs took me ages, how could i entertain myself by streaming korean drama or any other stuff to swoosh away all the bad thoughts? even the wifi and laptop situations are giving headache and anxiety what if i couldn’t finish my degree this year. those are circling in my head.

this afternoon i tweeted about what if i write down everything that happened in a day, including the music i listen or book i read or any other thing, in here. i need to do something that makes my brain thinking about certain thing so the negative part doesn’t catch me as it pleases. so here i am, trying to commit. i’m not sure either, but i feel excited without reasons. no one will actually read, but the idea of telling what is buried deep is bringing my writer mode back to life which is great. who knows that it would turn into a book at the end of the quarantine days.

hang in there, folks. stay at home while you can, so we could meet each other in a real life again. CHEERS!

- m

[thelarryficrecplace]

Hii! I'm in real need of realistic fluff, I feel like I've already read most of the oneshots and my soul is empty :( (Also, wouldn't mind a bit of angst) Thaaaanks!!

Hi! There’s never enough canon compliant one shots! I’ve found some relatively new ones for you:

Go Nowhere Tonight by Anonymous:

Summary: As always, the easy nonchalance with which he treats the rumors hurts, stabs Harry in the gut, twists the knife. Because it is hard for Harry; it’s hard to know people think they should be or are together because he wants that. Wants it so fucking badly, and it would be one thing if he could just silently quarantine that part of himself and pine secretly, but instead he’s faced with fictionalized accounts of his and Louis’s nonexistent love life and photoshopped pictures of them being coupley every time he’s on the internet. It is hard, and the fact that it supposedly isn’t for Louis functions as proof that it’s unrequited. “It’s gonna be a rude awakening for them,” he starts, gazing into his empty glass, “when we eventually come out but are dating other people. No one likes being half-right.”

To Keep the Night From Ending by objectlesson:

Summary: It doesn’t always feel real to kiss in the dark, Harry guesses. He wants it to feel real. He wants it to be the realest thing, burnt indelibly into his skin.

Or, Harry and Louis take a night swim.

Stargazing by larry_phanatic:

Summary: "What do you want, then?“

"I want to fall in love,” Harry didn’t even need to think about it, “I mean, I want to find the one.”

Gemma let out a soft puff, as if to say ‘I knew it’, which wasn’t all that impossible since it apparently was all Harry could talk about. When she spoke, her tone was affectionate and sweet. “Of course you do.”

Or: the one where Harry really loves stargazing but somehow it’s never about actual stars.

We’re Crumbling (Hold On) by Clamat_Submissa:

Summary: reality; their relationships has been on the rocks for years now, and it’s only when they address it that they start to crack.

If You Say Run (I’ll Run With You) by sign of the times (alittlelove):

Summary: In regards to Louis’ smoking habit, Harry’s not too psyched. He blames his Motherly instinct to protect Louis from anything that could possibly be detrimental to his health for that. He doesn’t want Louis to sound like he’s just swallowed a razor when One Direction returns from hiatus and he thinks his opinion is plausible, and just, fuck whatever Louis tells him.

Good Enough to Eat by objectlesson:

Summary: “Fuck,” Harry mumbles, shuffling. “You won’t give me shit for it? It’s sorta weird.”

“No,” Louis breathes. “Promise.”

“Okay. I just…fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Harry whimpers, and he must be blushing because Louis can feel waves of heat coming off him, his embarrassment a hot, palpable thing. “So, like…I love rimming videos. Nothing makes me come harder,” he admits, covering his face with his hands so his voice comes out muffled and strangled.

It takes Louis a few seconds to process, to mentally rifle through his Pornhub search history and remember what rimming even is; Harry has him so stupid he can’t keep stuff straight. His ears ring, and then it hits him, and, oh, fuck. His stomach turns and tightens so quickly he’s gasping, an audible and shameful scrape of air in the dark. “You…really?” he chokes out.

Or, Harry is convinced he’s never gonna be able to try his favorite porn fantasy on a real boy, and Louis offers to remedy this.

This is all we need by JohnDoe221B:

Summary: “Harry, I don’t think it is a good idea to run on the beach during a thunderstorm. I might not have been the best student back in the days, but I know very well that lightning is always aiming for the highest object. No pun intended.” It took Harry way too long to get the joke and he was sure that Louis might have been worried that the master of bad puns lost his sense of humour due to intoxication. Without any warning though, he busted into a full-hearted laughing fit. Louis smiled at the sign of his boyfriend gasping for air.

“Come on Lou, only a few minutes. I promise I will protect you.”

Or the one where Louis and Harry have a little fun in Jamaica.

two ghosts by suicxne:

Summary: we’re not who used to be. we’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me. trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.

That Smile Is Worth The Wait (Darling I’m Forever Only Yours) by LiveLaughLoveLarry:

Summary: It was a conversation they would have dozens of times, over the years. Perhaps even hundreds. The details were different, the locations, the reasons, the voices, but it was at its heart the same conversation. And each time they reached the same conclusion.

“Harry, I’ve never felt anything like this before.“ Louis shook his head. "I don’t know how to do this.”

Harry smiled. “There isn’t any knowing,” he said. “That’s not how it works. You don’t know. You just feel. What do you feel?”

He felt – so many things. Fear. Excitement. Longing. Uncertainty. “Too many things,” Louis said.

“What do you want?” Harry asked him.

Again, so many things. He wanted to kiss Harry. He wanted to win X Factor. He wanted to talk to his mum and ask her what he should do. “I want everything,” Louis said at last. “I just don’t know if I can have it.”

Two heartbeats by JohnDoe221B:

Summary: “But what is bothering me even more, is the fact that the ones that make the right assumptions, will probably get the wrong picture of us. Us falling apart, not talking anymore. Hating each other, after being inseparable. There are so many people that literally watched the two of us falling for each other. After hearing this song, they will think it didn’t last long. That it didn’t work. And somehow they are right. It pains me to know that you wrote this song during a time I wasn’t a part of your life-”

or Harry is recording his new Album and of course, Louis is with him. When he hears "Two Ghosts” some feelings surface he was not prepared for.

[taeminuet]

Heartbeat (16/?)

Title: Heartbeat Fandom: SHINee Pairings: Jongtae; Minkey; OnKai Chapter Wordcount: 2.5k Overall Rating: R (Some chapters will be NC-17; these will be marked.) Chapter Warnings: mental illness, mentions of past abuse  Summary: In which not every problem needs to be fixed and not every person needs to be saved; sometimes you just need support.

-

1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7 , 7.5 , 8 , 9 , 10 , 11 , 12 , 13 , 14 , 15

Chapter 16: Taemin

Taemin knows he has to focus on what's real right now, knows he can't let himself go or else risk losing it entirely. It's getting toward dark again, and he cant't do this, not two nights in a row. But it's so hard; everything around him is so silent, so still, and it's hard not to get caught up in his own head.

He knows he should get out of here, knows he should try to surround himself with something more than this, but the idea of being out in the open is horrifying. He needs to hide, and he needs to not be alone, and he needs... he doesn't know what exactly he needs except to be able to tell what's real and what's not.

His father is looking for him. That's real. It's horrible and terrifying, but it's still real.

But there's no way he's going to find him here, right? Jongin hadn't said anything. Jongin wouldn't say anything.

It's just Taemin's brain, freaking out and making him panic over stuff that can't possibly happen. This place is safe. He knows it's safe. His father doesn't know about it, can't find him here.

But that doesn't make the fear go away, because his father has always found him before, every time he's tried to hide. When he was younger, he'd run to friend’s houses, thinking maybe, maybe. But his dad was always there after him, with that kind, disarming smile, and an explanation on his lips: his son just had a temper, had just overreacted, just didn't want to get in trouble for whatever it is that Taemin had done 'wrong'.

And every time, his friends' parents would nod understandingly and hand Taemin over, none the wiser. And the nights he ran were always the worst. After a while, Taemin had just learned not to run, to just try and take it all with with a straight face and put his mind somewhere far away where it couldn’t be harmed. Because even if his dad hurt him physically, there was nothing he could do to Taemin's mind. Or so Taemin had thought.

Jongin had saved him from that, had come along and rescued him from both his father and himself. Jongin, who had spent his childhood helpless to stop Taemin's personal hell, had done everything he could to get him far away from there. And Taemin had almost been able to repress what happened to him. Almost. But when it came back, well…

That’s what he was here for now, isn’t it? He had thought he was safe, and then his own mind had caught up with him and reminded him otherwise, reminded him that he was never safe. Not so long as his father is out there.

And now Taemin knows for sure that his father is looking for him, and it's all he can do to try to keep a grip on reality, to try and keep his mind from playing tricks on him. All he really has the capacity to manage is curling up under his blanket, knees drawn to his chest and face pressed against them, a death grip on the shirt Jonghyun left in here only a little while ago.

This is real too. And what had happened earlier is real too. Maybe it's harsh, and maybe he's pissed at Jonghyun for being snappy and harsh, but what had happened before that is nice to think about still, and Taemin is honestly desperate for anything to anchor him down. Right now, this shirt and these memories with Jonghyun are the realest thing he has.

But he can't bring himself to go running to the real thing, not again. He knows if he did, Jonghyun would help him. He thinks, at least. Hopes, maybe. But he can't bring himself to go, not when he's still torn between guilt and this fear he can't control. Because Jonghyun doesn't seem to know how to control himself, how to react calmly.

And maybe Taemin is a hypocrite, but they'd talked about this, and how is Taemin supposed to feel when Jonghyun is set off so easily by a single question?

Taemin doesn't know, and god he wishes he did, because right now all he can do it lay here under the covers and try and cling onto a shirt like it's a lifeline.

The knocking at the door terrifies him, makes him have to bite back a scream at the sound, because he can imagine so easily it turning into his father's fists, pounding on his door, trying to get in. For a moment, Taemin freezes there, terror welling in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He knows it's not his dad, but that doesn't stop him from feeling like it, doesn't stop his hands from shaking or his heart from pounding or his throat from closing up.

“Taemin? Tae, hey.” It's Jonghyun, knocking and calling out, and he seems-- Taemin doesn't know. He seems calmer, but that might just be an excuse, might just be Taemin's desperation.

But as much as he couldn't bring himself to go to Jonghyun, he can't bring himself to turn him away now. His throat is still tight, and he can't get out more than a choked out noise, but it's enough to make Jonghyun open the door.

For a moment, they stand there at an impasse, because Taemin doesn't want Jonghyun to leave, but he also doesn't want him too close. He remembers Jonghyun's outburst earlier, remembers Jonghyun snarling at him, shoving and pushing and too eager to protect himself to care about Taemin's feelings.

But that was fair. Taemin had upset him by asking.

“Taemin,” Jonghyun says, and then he's walking towards him.

Taemin's breath catches, and he curls up a little tighter, but if Jonghyun notices, he says nothing, just takes a seat at the end of Taemin's bed, cross-legged. He doesn't reach out for Taemin.

“Look at me,” he whispers, and it's so soft, like he's speaking to a spooked animal, trying to coax Taemin out. “I'm not-- I won't do anything you don't want, okay? I'm not gonna let anyone near you, okay? Not unless you want 'em. Just... okay?”

Taemin's fingers squeeze tighter on Jonghyun's shirt. “Why?” he whispers. “Why are you-- why don't you just...”

He bites his lip, shuddering, waiting for Jonghyun to reach out and touch him, to grab him to do something. But Jonghyun is quiet and still, and when Taemin dares to look up, his face is soft and concerned and sad. All the bravado gone. This is the man who'd realized, hours too late, that he'd scared Taemin.

And Taemin shivers, making a quiet, unhappy little sound. “Why haven't you hurt me yet?”

Jonghyun jerks, almost like he's been struck, and his arms lift, just a little. Taemin flinches without meaning too, dropping his head and curling tighter in on himself. But Jonghyun goes slack again all at once, like he's caught himself, and when he speaks his voice is choked up, filled with something like horror. “Because,” he says. “I just told you I'm not gonna do anything you don't want. I'm not going to let you get hurt, not even by me, and I'm sorry that I keep--”

He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “This isn't about that. I'll apologize later. Just... I promise you, I swear to you, Taemin, I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. No one. You're safe.”

Taemin shudders, unfolding just a little. Jonghyun is just sitting there, looking at him, and Taemin clenches his hands into fists so tight that it hurts, even through the fabric, the pressure making his fingers ache.

He whines quietly and lets it go, sitting up hesitantly. Jonghyun is watching him, and there's something in his eyes that Taemin can't read properly, something that makes Taemin's heart squeeze. For a moment, he reels, trying to figure out how to make this better.

A part of him just wants this all to stop. He wants to fit himself between Jonghyun's thighs, to suck him off and make him feel good, to distract them both until they don't have to think about this. They can pretend that none of this had ever happened in the first place and Jonghyun will fuck him senseless, and everything will be okay.

But it's not realistic, and Taemin can't, and he just has to real with all of this. They both do. He can't hide, and he's known that for so long, but he keeps trying, keeps wanting to, keeps thinking that somehow, out of everyone, Jonghyun is a safe place to hide. He wishes he knew why. He wishes that neither of them had to deal with this. He wishes he could be normal.

But even if he was, Jonghyun would still be here, dealing with whatever. Taemin hates it. His hands are fists again, but there's nothing in them now, and it hurts, the nails digging into his skin, fast and harsh and painful. His breath is uneven now, panicked and short, and he jerks with terror when Jonghyun's voice cuts in. “Taemin, stop it.”

Taemin whips his head up, waiting, but Jonghyun still isn't reaching out. He just looks torn, his own hands balled at his sides, though less tightly than Taemin's.

“Fuck,” Jonghyun says after a second, voice low and pained. “Tae, you can't sit there and worry that I'm going to hurt you when I'm not, and then fuck up your own hands. That's counterproductive as shit. If you want to hurt something, hit me. I'm right fucking here, and I'm okay with it, I swear. I can deal, and I'm not going to do anything to you. So either hit me or let me hold you, but don't just sit there and fuck yourself up.”

And Taemin wants to ignore him, because there's so much to deal with in that whole statement. Too much to deal with. But it's all so jarring, so out of place, and it makes Taemin think, makes him focus on Jonghyun in front of him, here and so clearly real, because Taemin could never make up an offer like that.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” he whines, uncurling slowly as he tries to process. Jonghyun is offering to just sit there and let Taemin hurt him so that Taemin can feel better. And god, that's not what Taemin wants, not at all, but for him to put his neck out there – his neck that is already wearing one of Taemin's bites, fueled by fear and panic – that says a lot.

What says more is the fact that he's still not moving, not reaching out for Taemin even as Taemin slowly unfolds himself. After a moment, Taemin moves closer, careful and tentative, and Jonghyun just... waits.

Taemin crumples, all at once. “I'm sorry,” he says again. “Fuck. This is all-- this is all so fucked. Today-- I just... I just want to sleep.”

“I-- look, I don't know, but I can imagine, and I'm sorry,” Jonghyun says. “But listen to me, okay? Don't you dare apologize. None of this is your fault. You got dealt a shit hand, and you did what you could with it. You don't have anything to apologize for.”

Taemin laughs bitterly and scoots forwards closer, until he's sitting close. Jonghyun stays still, right up until the point where Taemin leans against his shoulder, and then Jonghyun's arms come up in a hesitant embrace, holding him gently. “Tae...”

“I'm still sorry. I keep-- I keep fucking acting like you're the only one at fault here and getting pissed off when you do stuff when Jongin fucking mentions my dad and I'm--”

He stops, because he just felt Jonghyun twitch, the word 'dad' making him jar, and that little piece of confirmation makes his stomach turn. He doesn't know what happened to Jonghyun, and he doesn't have the right to demand it, but he knows what a reaction like that means, at least a little, and he doesn't think it's good.

He bites his lips tightly. “I have a lot to apologize for. I just kind of seemed to come here and fuck things up.”

“It's always like this,” Jonghyun says. “When people come and go. Not... okay, maybe not like this, exactly, but when you throw this many people with issues together...”

“Earlier,” Taemin says, and his voice is quiet and tense, “you said you're never leaving here. Earlier. Maybe... maybe that's me too. I thought yeah, of course, but then... and then shit like last night, and shit like when Jongin said...”

Jonghyun shifts a little, barely perceptible, and his hand lands, warm and soothing on Taemin's back, rubbing gently. “You don't know that. I'm... you're not like me. You checked yourself in here. You can leave whenever you want to. Whenever you feel better. I'm not--” He cuts himself off with a frustrated noise. “I don't-- we can talk about that later. I don't want to get stressed out and freak you out or whatever. You don't need that right now. Ever, really, but-- I can't promise...”

“Jonghyun,” Taemin says. “It's okay. It's... I don't think I'm really ever gonna be better until... well.”

He shakes his head. Maybe when his dad is dead. Maybe. But he can't say that, not when he knows just enough about Jonghyun to know it's dangerous and not enough to know what he can and can't say.

“Besides,” he finishes after a second. “It’s safer in here and I don’t have to burden Jongin anymore. So I’m not just going to up and leave.”

Jonghyun's hand is warm and steady on his back, but Jonghyun's shoulder rises and falls as he takes a shuddering breath. “You don't know that,” he murmurs again, shuddering, but he doesn't say anything else. Doesn't complain about Taemin talking about not burdening Jongin when he's literally leaning on Jonghyun right now.

And Taemin can't help himself. “Did you mean what you said?” he asks, leaning back to look at Jonghyun. “Look, I know I'm fucked up and I'm high maintenance, and I can be difficult to handle sometimes, but...” He swallows hard. “God, I can't figure out if you make me feel safe or terrified or both, and I just... if I could stop being scared of you, if I could have a safe place here...”

Jonghyun looks shaken, but he nods tightly. “I know I fuck up a lot, but Tae... I'm trying here. And I don't want you to be afraid. No one deserves that. And god, you maybe couldn't have picked a shittier person, because I can barely take care of myself sometimes, but whatever I can do for you, I'm here. I'll do it. You just have to understand that I'm not always-- that I get--”

“I know,” Taemin says quietly. He hopes he can be okay with that. He wants to be okay with that. If Jonghyun swears he wont hurt him, he wants to believe him. “I'm-- I'll help you too. As much as I can. I don't want you hurting either. And... whenever you're ready to talk about why you're in here, I'll listen, okay?”

Jonghyun goes stiff, just for a moment, and then lets out a huff of laughter, almost bitter. Taemin doesn't quite understand why, but at least Jonghyun is nodding, and he touches Taemin like a question, his eyes flickering to Taemin's mouth before they go back up.

“It's fine,” Taemin says, and kisses Jonghyun softly before Jonghyun has to worry about it. “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me,” Jonghyun says. “I'm here.”

It's true. Jonghyun is there, through the night. Taemin doesn't sleep, can't possibly begin to, but even when Jonghyun dozes, he wakes easily to Taemin's slightest shift, holding him safe and steady through the night.

--

Next Chapter

[baabybern]

Moving forward

Some may say, that talking about moving forward kind of defeats the purpose of the action itself. But for some it’s a therapeutic way of getting out of your mind rather than just keeping it inside. There’s a guy that I used to go crazy for. No, not my 3 year relationship. I don’t even know if my ex still looks at my tumblr, but hey if he does, i hope he knows that he was the best relationship I’ve ever had and I’m saying I’m so sorry for it ending the way it did. I can still feel a sense of pettiness lingering on him, and it sucks but there’s not much I can do about it other than accept it for what it is. 

How is it that I can get over a 3 year relationship that fucking quick rather than a fling that happened for maybe 6 months tops. It’s crazy how someone can take your soul and just crush it right in front of you, lie to you, and feel no ways about parting with you as if it was all just meant to end. The worst part is that you actually believe them. They’re so deceiving to the point where you really truly believe that you mean something to them. 

I can continue to sit here and cry about it, believe me it’s been almost 2 months now. They say it takes about 3 months to get over someone on average. For my first serious relationship that took almost half a year. So I find that statistic to be utter bullshit, but then again, it’s just a statistic. You can constantly search up the amount of things to try to help you get over someone and some of it may work. However, it really is up to you on how and when to get over things and it’s not really up for a debate; which of course sucks but it’s out of anyones control.

If anyone has ever met someone who is your dream come to life, you will know exactly what I’m feeling. You first see them, and your eyes haven’t laid on anything quite gorgeous before. You first hear their voice and you find it’s a soft melody escaping the lips that you desire to lay yours upon. I don’t know if anyones ever felt the same as me on this, but when I first met him, I had this strange feeling that he was going to ruin my life. But I let him in anyways, and now the damage was far more destructive than I could have imagined. 

There were so many things left unsaid the last time we spoke. About how it was essentially my fault that we ended up not being together. You fronted as if you had no control over the problem. You fronted as if I was the one who made it all happen. You honestly made me feel bad for falling for you in the first place. You justified your actions but mine were made to look like it wasn’t valid. Don’t you remember we were on the same boat at the same time? Remember when I was the first one you would hit up and end your day with? Remember when I was your first choice for a girlfriend? 

I would have taken care of you, I spent much more money on you than her, not that it should be a factor, but you named that off as a reason to be with her, I remember quite clearly how you explained it. You were about to ditch her for me again, but I guess the guilt got to you. I honestly did want to meet her, I wanted to get to know the girl who makes my best friend happy. But I asked you if she made you happy in person, and you said it was whatever. Then you switched up and said she made you the happiest. 

After that switch up, I thought long and hard about everything else that you said to me. I had to learn the hard way to fall for actions and not for words. I understand you were hurt, I understand she fucked you up, but that’s never a reason to destroy a soul. Especially a soul who was there for you through everything, who took care of you, and who became your best friend. But I guess your girlfriend who hates my guts was more important than your best friend who just wanted peace. 

I could name off all of these reasons why I would have been the best girlfriend you’ve ever had, but it’s not gonna change anything. You tell me to not dwell on the past how could I not? You wanted a future with me, you said so yourself. We had plans, you said I was the one that you cared about the most, loved the most, and made you the happiest. You wanted to give me something that my ex couldn’t and didn’t want. But the fact that you lied about that too, makes me question everything. My life knowing you has been a lie. But if it weren’t for you, my life would be so different. Maybe one day, things will fall into place, I told you I don’t care about the sex, I don’t even care for the relationship, all I wanted was my best friend back, and you couldn’t even give me that. 

How is this moving forward you might ask. Well, talking about it is one thing, coming to terms with it is another. I wish I had a talk with you, like a proper one, but you’re too busy now. But that’s the thing, nobody is ever too busy, it’s all about priorities. Once I realized I wasn’t a priority anymore, it was kind of a nice epiphany. Another thing I’ve come to terms with is how much money you owe me. You owe me almost a credit card limit. Like, almost if not $1000. You said you would pay me back by getting a telly and getting bare drugs. You said you couldn’t do that anymore which is completely understandable. However, I still don’t have that money back from you. It’s been two months. 

But I realized if me spending all of that money made me a good friend and maybe even saved your life in one way shape or form, then that’s all I could ever ask back for. It was my choice to spend that money, I knew you weren’t going to force me to use it anyways. Even the piff. Piff was meant to be shared and I was going to give you some of that anyways. Even if you did smoke it with her, I’m glad it all went to good use. 

The hardest thing to come to terms with was how you lied about how you felt about me. How can you stare into the windows of my soul and lie to it. I couldn’t look at you, you were too good for me, I truly didn’t feel worthy to look into your eyes. Once I did, I couldn’t stop looking. It’s like i bestowed upon the most beautiful creature; little did I know you turned out to be a monster. The worst kind of monster. Take a jellyfish for example, so beautiful once you’ve laid eyes on it, but it’s also the deadliest thing upon a simple touch. Once this jellyfish drained out all of my love, it left me there to fend for myself, no warning, no nothing. 

Maybe you didn’t lie to me though. Maybe what you said to me was 100% true, just in the moment. I remember now you tend to say a lot of things you don’t mean when you’re angry. Maybe it’s the same way when you’re infatuated. Yes I said infatuated, because nobody would leave someone they love out to dry and never return. I swear we were the same. I swear you and I would’ve been the best couple. Even you said you saw us living together and being happy. You changed goals, and now I have to change mine. 

At some point, you meant everything to me. No matter what you did, I always saw you as perfect. You couldn’t do anything wrong in my eyes. Whatever you did was always justifiable, but this time you explaining yourself was just so incredibly wrong and one sided, now I see you for your true colours. You were not at all what I thought you were and that’s completely my fault. I expected way too much from someone who was broken and lost and just wanted to make everyone happy. Though I’m being honest, you made me afraid to love again. 

But you were absolutely right on needing to focus on myself. Who am I to keep dwelling on this if I don’t move forward. Just pathetic. I know it’s still going to take time, but I’m coping. Before, I was asked if you came back in my life, and asked me to be your girlfriend would I say yes. Before, my answer would have been “In a heartbeat”. But now, I’m not sure. I don’t even know. Would I want you back in my life? I haven’t burned any bridges, but I did walk away from it after wishing you a happy birthday and not getting a response back. I think it would hurt being your girlfriend. But then again, what would I know about that?

I recently had dreams of you, one good one bad. the bad one came first, it was me living with you, but she was living with us too. She was talking bare shit to me and you were just lying in bed with her laughing at me while she was talking. The other dream however, was us chilling again, like old times and how well you and I clicked, and that you paid me back for all the things that you owed me. I don’t know what to think of you anymore. I haven’t seen you recently to even judge what you’re truly like anymore.

I hate that me slightly hating you is the only way to get over you. Now it’s honestly such a shame to say that you’re someone i used to know. I hate speaking in that tense where you became a part of my past life but like I said, I didn’t burn the bridge but just simply walked away from it. You were the realest person Ive ever met. You checked me, but I checked you too. We had the same thoughts, dealt with the same bullshit, paid loyalty where it’s due.

I’ve always hated goodbyes, that to me just means that you won’t see them anymore, and then people will forget. I won’t forget you though. You showed me how to have sex (God bless you on that), you showed me how to not be so defensive, you showed me the true meaning of friendship, and you showed me good music. I never forget people that showed me good music. 

UPDATE (Wednesday June 28th 2017):

I got a message from you around 3 weeks ago. I remember freaking out because I literally didn’t expect anything from you. It was around the same time I made this text post; possibly a few days later. I saw a notification in my instagram inbox, thinking oh it’s probably my friend getting back to me bout some shit, or maybe it was another friend who sent me a funny meme. None of the above, it was you. I remember the mixed emotions that were running wild through my mind. Happy because I thought you figured out she’s not the one for you, sad because I feel like you hit up everyone else you used to talk to, and mad because you destroyed my trust and you think saying sorry once over instagram is enough. 

It was all too much to think about in the moment but one simple thought ruled my mind: I just needed to see you again. I needed to figure out what I needed to say to you and since I had no idea what to say, I just knew that right when i meet up with you, everything will just fall into place. You talked about how you weren’t happy again. I knew it. I knew you couldn’t stand to be with her. But what tipped me off was how you feel bad if you break up with her just because she bought you a fuckin ipad for your birthday. 

There are two age old rules that should’ve been embedded in your mind: 

1. Money can’t buy you happiness

2. All that glitters is not gold

Honestly, talking to you again felt nice. It reminded me of why you were my best friend, funny how I almost forgot. You asked me about my life and I asked you about yours. You complained about everything, how guys would send her dick pics, how she gives you so much bullshit. But you don’t break up with her unless you have solid proof that she’s cheating on you. But why should that be the deal breaker? If you’re not happy then fuckin end it, it’s black or white. 

But at the same time, if you honestly truly cared about me, you wouldn’t block me on everything, you woulda checked your bitch and kept our friendship alive. But since you didn’t do any of that, I guess I’d have to say it’s black or white, right? You didn’t care about me, and I guess you just confirmed it. One thing I know for sure is true, is that you didn’t speak to anyone else other than me, because “seaweed” never mentioned you. 

I know because I would be hearing about it for days. Y’know everytime i chill with her, she never fails to mention you once. And I said I felt like her in the skype messages because I felt like I was in the dark about everything. You stopped talking to her for a week before breaking it with her, and you stopped talking to me for about 2 or 3 weeks before telling me your situation without listening to mine. I just felt like someone who was just around for you. You say to not over think, but it’s kind of hard not to when you’re not fully explaining everything to me and i just have to play a fucking guessing game by myself; thus figuring out every possible outcome without someone there to give me a concrete, definite answer. 

However at the same time, you being unresponsive and ignorant is also an answer. That I shouldn’t have wasted my time on someone who was just gonna do me so dirty.

However, this isn’t a goodbye, this isn’t a farewell. I don’t expect any sort of communication from you anytime soon.

But it was nice meeting you; I hope to see you again sometime.

[cloakedsparrow]

Saving one world from destruction or the schemes of would be world conquerors is a herculean task, but rescuing the countless worlds of Marvel Comics’ multiverse from is an even bigger challenge. The super strong, dimension hopping America Chavez knows this to be true. Inspired by her parents heroic sacrifice, Chavez spent her formative years traversing the multiverse using her super abilities to help people and worlds in need.

Service like that is incredibly inspiring, but taking so much time to help others often means not taking care of yourself. This March, America Chavez tackles that problem by going on a journey of self-discovery across time and multiple realities.

RELATED: Ms. America: 15 Awesome Facts About America Chavez

Writer Gabby Rivera and artist Joe Quinones will begin documenting Chavez’s personal and academic journey this March in their new ongoing series, “America.” CBR spoke with both creators about their take on their title character, what college will mean to her, and which Marvel characters she’ll encounter as she navigates her heroic and collegiate responsibilities.

CBR: Gabby, travel broadens the mind, and in America Chavez you have a protagonist who’s a veteran traveler of a variety of other dimensions and realities thanks to one of her super abilities. What’s your sense of how that’s affected her perspective?

Gabby Rivera: I mean, that’s a deep question, right? Cuz you’re talking about a character that left paradise to dive into worlds riddled with humanity, chaos, and the need for super heroes. So, right out the gate, America has always been someone thirsting for a challenge and looking for ways to serve the people.

America doesn’t seem to have time or energy for the things that regular folks get wrapped up in, like petty interpersonal dramas or agonizing over the smallest details or logistics. For her, whatever current reality or place/time that she’s in exists in the middle of every other world too. It’s dangerous sometimes because it lends itself to that “punch first, ask questions later” type of vibe that she has but also, it helps when situations need to be de-escalated.

I think all the worlds both blend for her and remain distinct. And that’s why America’s real loyalties are to herself, why she holds her feelings so close to her chest. Why let out things when people can hurt you like they do in every other world at any given place and time?

This series will show her finally releasing some of that apprehension and really investigating her own motives and abilities. And maybe even finding a home of sorts.

Joe, as an artist, what do you find most interesting about America Chavez? Which of her qualities do you really want to make sure you capture and bring forth in your depictions of her?

Joe Quinones: I think America hides a big heart behind a veneer of scowls and clenched fists. She’s guarded, as Gabby alluded to, and quick to throw the first punch, but clearly wants to share her love. Illustrating the nuances of that internal conflict (while she still throws some hard punches) is very interesting to me. That, and she just looks so damn cool. It’s been great fun designing new looks for her along the way.

Comic fans probably know America best through her interactions with super teams like the Ultimates and the Young Avengers, but we’ve not see a lot of her on her own.

Rivera: Listen, sometimes it’s like we’re all pressured to go from high school to college and be straight and get married and make some babies and put our pics on Facebook and buy a house and go on vacation and pay taxes and die. It’s all mapped out. There’s a system of support for people who follow that road, which can include easier relationships with relatives, tax breaks etc. Give or take a few random acts of the universe, you’ll be fine.

That’s not the life America has ever known. She grew up with two moms and then, boom — they were snatched because of ultimate sacrifices and whatnot. Then she spent a long time saving other people… and now she’s feeling like something is missing. Missing in the realest way, you know? Who are her people? What is she really capable of as a superhero?

Higher education can also be a radical act of self care. America is choosing to dive deeper into herself, to step away from the life that she knows, the life she already kicks ass at to start anew. America is taking inventory of her super hero abilities and wants to upgrade all around. What else is possible? If she can punch into other dimensions and fly and have super strength, then what is America capable of when she intentionally taps into her core? Could she stop the world?

What are some of the things we’ll see in the early issues of “America?” It sounds like this is a series that lends itself to a variety of stories.

Rivera: We’re definitely bringing in some heavy hitters from the Marvel Universe to offer support and guidance to America. Much of what this series is about is personal growth, building one’s power, and just listening to what your heart and mind want you to do. But also, it’s about playing with someone who’s full of fire and wants to just punch her way through life. We’re going to see where America’s impetuousness lands her and how she gets herself out of the chaos.

Also, be ready for lots of radical women fighting for their people and their right to own what’s theirs. Be ready for characters who love themselves, land the best one-liners, and show up bringing the magic. You’re probably going to fall in love with all of them.

I’ve had to remember along the way that America isn’t me. Like whenever things get too sappy or too serious, I gotta hit that delete button and write the brash things I’d never say and let America climb the walls and be free. So it’s going to be a little goofy, and fun-sexy, and everyone is still going to learn life lessons.

Joe, you’re coming off a run on “Howard the Duck” where you drew a variety of fun and strange stories and characters. So what’s it like moving from “Howard” to “America?”

Quinones: No differences, whatsoever. Next question.

Just kidding. Beyond the obvious “Chavez don’t got a duck bill” distinction, the books certainly have their similarities and differences. The focus has shifted, of course – “America” won’t center on jokes as “Howard” did, but the two both have their fair share of melodrama mixed with bombastic action. Chip and I tackled some moments of sincere emotion in “Howard,” and I think Gabby and I are set up to do the same with “America.” No comment on how sexy or not sexy Howard is. You do you.

[Laughs] What else can you tell us about the initial supporting cast of “America?” Will her girlfriend Lisa Halloran, play a role in the book?Rivera: We’ve got some fun folks lined up for this series, but everyone’s asking about Lisa Halloran and Kate Bishop. So, let’s be real — I can’t give away too many of the goods. But I will say this: you will catch Lisa and Kate in some intense moments throughout this series. Might not be how folks want or expect, I mean are relationships ever how we expect them to be? But they’ll be there.

And we have a wild crew of new faces ready to roll out and join the Marvel Universe. I mean, we’ve got some robotic sorority girls, some unexpected family members, and an entire college bursting with surprises. Be on the lookout for tough, ready to rumble women of color, and some of our favorite high profile superheroes that you know and love from Marvel. Maybe even some X-Men if you’re lucky…

Also, at some point, Joe’s dog is going to make a cameo in America. First one to find it gets an autographed picture of Joe’s dog signed by Joe. He might not know this but it’s happening.

Quinones: It’s my sister’s dog, actually. But he’s great, I tell you. Great. My cat Biggs showed up in “Howard the Duck,” becoming Howard’s cyborg cat. I love the idea of making this a tradition where I bring my favorite animals into the books I draw. It makes me happy.

What hints or teases can you offer up about the enemies America will be up against in your initial stories?

Rivera: We’re going to have fun with villains. Some will be plucked from Marvel’s history of creating some of the greatest villains ever. Others, we’re making up. We’re definitely going to play with the idea of jealousy and how that can turn someone with huge powers into an intergalactic threat. America’s building up her strength and some folks won’t like that. Some folks will feel like the power they’ve built up along the way is being threatened by this Latina lesbian so and so and they’re not gonna like that one bit.

But when does institutionalized power ever appreciate strength from beyond their ranks? This series will also be about resistance and rallying behind your people, things America already does so well. Watch what happens when something big really comes for her…

Joe what can you tell us about the overall look you want “America” to have? How does it compare to some of your most recent work?

Quinones: I didn’t have a label for it until Gabby mentioned it to me recently, but America’s overall look represents a “hard femme” aesthetic. Hard, tough and feminine. She won’t have just one look in our book, but several, ranging from super casual dorm-wear to rough and tumble, superhero duds. I’m trying to carry on the aesthetic tradition established by Jamie McKelvie on “Young Avengers,” but with some new twists. America is very much tuned into fashion, with a unique personal style that permeates her wardrobe. Doing my best to tap into that with Gabby’s help.

Gabby, what’s it like working with Joe on “America?” Which elements of his style do you enjoy the most? And Joe, what’s it like working with Gabby? Which elements of her scripts have really excited you so far?

Rivera: Joe’s artwork is astonishing. He brings America to life in this way where I feel like I could reach out and high five her or hug her. And…it’s fun! Joe’s got this goofy side that I really like and that works well with me. I can send Joe some pics of Selena or some donuts for inspiration and then bam, he kicks back some work that capture the essence of each of those things and applies them perfectly to the characters. Also, Joe’s an expert and he treats me, someone so new, with much respect and is down for all my ideas. I’m thankful to be working with him on this project.

Quinones: Oh, you. Gabby has just been great to work with thus far. She’s got a amazing sense of the character, her personality oozing off the page. And she’s already deftly given me both thrilling action to draw and quiet, nuanced, personal scenes. It’s been really fun to tackle on either end.

Finally, Gabby, “America” is your first comic and likely to be some readers first exposure to your work. What’s it like moving from prose to comic scripts? And readers who are interested in what you’re doing in “America” might be curious about your novel “Juliet Takes a Breath.” What would you like them to know about the book?

Rivera: Seriously, this is the coolest writing gig ever! I’m someone who’s just like a goofy nerdburger, daydreaming all the time. And now I’ve got this opportunity to create stories with folks who are daydreamers too. I can explore real life problems in fantasy worlds where all the things are possible. Damn, do you know what that’s like for a queer brown weirdo? It’s something that humbles and excites me to my core. When there aren’t any barriers in your way like racism or poverty, when you can afford to live and be free, damn, that world world gets to be all yours. That world can be anything and writing that story is a gift.

Also, the actual process is helping me hone my writing skills in a major way. This type of on-the-job education is invaluable. With comic writing, I get to practice being concise, (although you might not be able to tell) and still impactful with my storytelling. I work with skilled editors who also have grand imaginations and use them to guide me in the best ways. It’s really a gift to be here.

As for my first novel, “Juliet Takes a Breath,” that’s my baby. It’s just this sweet little goofy novel that I got to share with the world. It actually made it out of my laptop and into the hands of people. And yeah, it’s about a young lesbian Latina from the Bronx trying to figure out feminism while navigating LGBTQ things and her relationship with her mom. Those are all important elements about Juliet, especially when it comes to the importance of diversity in literature.

It’s also the story of some kid trying to be 19, make out with cute people, and question authority. Those are some of the most quintessential elements in American storytelling. Juliet is one of those hometown kids looking to see the world and grow up. And she also tells a mean one-liner while rocking the latest Jordans, so give her a chance, y’all.

“America” #1, by Gabby Rivera and Joe Quinones, arrives in stores March 1.

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

Hotline, the new dating app that makes you to talk on the phone

Brace yourselves: There's a new dating app that requires you to kick things off with a potential match by sharing an actual phone call. Shudders. Passes out. Dies. 

If the idea of having to speak to a stranger causes you to settle into a perma-cringe, you’re not alone — but that friction is exactly the point of Hotline, which launched on Monday. A subscription will run you $9 a month, and right now it's only for iOS in New York, but the hope is that they'll expand nationwide soon. 

This strangely old-fashioned idea is the brainchild of 27-year-old Sam Ballantyne, who was a classical musician before he turned his attention to developing apps. It came to him after someone he’d matched with on another app insisted on a call instead of messaging. He found it an oddly effective way of starting things off since you can tell pretty much right away if you’re interested in learning more about someone or not.

“Hotline wants you to stop swiping and start discerning,“ according to their press release. And when I spoke to Ballantyne, he stressed how keen he was to keep people from seeing their potential dates as commodities, which can be hard on the big apps where you’re matching with hundreds or even of thousands of people. That’s why he decided to limit the number of matches in Hotline to three at a time.

You can add loads of detail, and even videos, to your profile.

Image: hotline

That may sound like nothing, but here’s how it works: you create a profile, which gives you a chance to offer more details than your average swipe-based app requires. You identify in any way you like, and add in images and even video — a feature that many of the big apps don’t yet have. Ballantyne hopes all of this will allow people to showcase their realest selves.

You can swipe through profiles and like as many as you want. You’ll then be served up three matches, and until you discard one that’s what you’ve got to work with. You can still browse around but you can’t like anyone else until one of your three spots is open.

SEE ALSO: Bumble's new video option will make dating even harder

And now for the super scary part: the phone call. After you’ve matched with a potential love interest, you won’t be able to message them until after you two have a call that lasts for longer than five minutes. The calls are placed (and timed) by the app, so your phone number isn’t revealed to the other person.

Five minutes sounds like an eternity, especially if you hate to talk on the phone. But connecting voice-to-voice can actually tell you a lot about a person that you can’t get just from messaging. Ballantyne admits that a lot of the calls won’t work, but when they do work you’ll know you’re not wasting your time by making plans to meet up with someone.

The app makes the call for you to ensure your privacy.

Image: Hotline

You might still be curled up in a little ball at the thought of it all, but Ballantyne says that during their beta testing (which involved 500 users), the average call length was 25 minutes. (The longest lasted 40 minutes.) After a pair talked, there was typically a very low volume of messaging that followed, presumably because they’d either planned an in-person meeting or they realized there wasn’t much to say and moved on. 

And that’s the main point of Hotline. You can text all day long, but until you actually talk to someone you don’t know whether there’s really something there. Your first interaction (whether it’s via phone or IRL) is going to be awkward no matter what, so you might as well save yourself time and get it out of the way first thing. 

For many, it might feel like too much. It's an oddly personal experience to submit yourself to in an age when we've become accustomed to paging through potential soulmates in the same we browse around Seamless looking for dinner. 

Then again nobody is enjoying the current system all that much, so maybe we're ready to find out if a real phone call is worth a thousand flirty emoji.

BONUS: This app lets you send real kisses to your long-distance lover

[aion-rsa]

INTERVIEW: Exploring The Many Dimensions of Marvel’s America

Saving one world from destruction or the schemes of would be world conquerors is a herculean task, but rescuing the countless worlds of Marvel Comics’ multiverse from is an even bigger challenge. The super strong, dimension hopping America Chavez knows this to be true. Inspired by her parents heroic sacrifice, Chavez spent her formative years traversing the multiverse using her super abilities to help people and worlds in need.

Service like that is incredibly inspiring, but taking so much time to help others often means not taking care of yourself. This March, America Chavez tackles that problem by going on a journey of self-discovery across time and multiple realities.

RELATED: Ms. America: 15 Awesome Facts About America Chavez

Writer Gabby Rivera and artist Joe Quinones will begin documenting Chavez’s personal and academic journey this March in their new ongoing series, “America.” CBR spoke with both creators about their take on their title character, what college will mean to her, and which Marvel characters she’ll encounter as she navigates her heroic and collegiate responsibilities.

CBR: Gabby, travel broadens the mind, and in America Chavez you have a protagonist who’s a veteran traveler of a variety of other dimensions and realities thanks to one of her super abilities. What’s your sense of how that’s affected her perspective?

Gabby Rivera: I mean, that’s a deep question, right? Cuz you’re talking about a character that left paradise to dive into worlds riddled with humanity, chaos, and the need for super heroes. So, right out the gate, America has always been someone thirsting for a challenge and looking for ways to serve the people.

EXCLUSIVE: A page from “America” #1 by Joe Quinones

America doesn’t seem to have time or energy for the things that regular folks get wrapped up in, like petty interpersonal dramas or agonizing over the smallest details or logistics. For her, whatever current reality or place/time that she’s in exists in the middle of every other world too. It’s dangerous sometimes because it lends itself to that “punch first, ask questions later” type of vibe that she has but also, it helps when situations need to be de-escalated.

I think all the worlds both blend for her and remain distinct. And that’s why America’s real loyalties are to herself, why she holds her feelings so close to her chest. Why let out things when people can hurt you like they do in every other world at any given place and time?

This series will show her finally releasing some of that apprehension and really investigating her own motives and abilities. And maybe even finding a home of sorts.

Joe, as an artist, what do you find most interesting about America Chavez? Which of her qualities do you really want to make sure you capture and bring forth in your depictions of her?

Joe Quinones: I think America hides a big heart behind a veneer of scowls and clenched fists. She’s guarded, as Gabby alluded to, and quick to throw the first punch, but clearly wants to share her love. Illustrating the nuances of that internal conflict (while she still throws some hard punches) is very interesting to me. That, and she just looks so damn cool. It’s been great fun designing new looks for her along the way.

Comic fans probably know America best through her interactions with super teams like the Ultimates and the Young Avengers, but we’ve not see a lot of her on her own.

Rivera: Listen, sometimes it’s like we’re all pressured to go from high school to college and be straight and get married and make some babies and put our pics on Facebook and buy a house and go on vacation and pay taxes and die. It’s all mapped out. There’s a system of support for people who follow that road, which can include easier relationships with relatives, tax breaks etc. Give or take a few random acts of the universe, you’ll be fine.

That’s not the life America has ever known. She grew up with two moms and then, boom — they were snatched because of ultimate sacrifices and whatnot. Then she spent a long time saving other people… and now she’s feeling like something is missing. Missing in the realest way, you know? Who are her people? What is she really capable of as a superhero?

Higher education can also be a radical act of self care. America is choosing to dive deeper into herself, to step away from the life that she knows, the life she already kicks ass at to start anew. America is taking inventory of her super hero abilities and wants to upgrade all around. What else is possible? If she can punch into other dimensions and fly and have super strength, then what is America capable of when she intentionally taps into her core? Could she stop the world?

What are some of the things we’ll see in the early issues of “America?” It sounds like this is a series that lends itself to a variety of stories.

Rivera: We’re definitely bringing in some heavy hitters from the Marvel Universe to offer support and guidance to America. Much of what this series is about is personal growth, building one’s power, and just listening to what your heart and mind want you to do. But also, it’s about playing with someone who’s full of fire and wants to just punch her way through life. We’re going to see where America’s impetuousness lands her and how she gets herself out of the chaos.

EXCLUSIVE: A page from “America” #1 by Joe Quinones

Also, be ready for lots of radical women fighting for their people and their right to own what’s theirs. Be ready for characters who love themselves, land the best one-liners, and show up bringing the magic. You’re probably going to fall in love with all of them.

I’ve had to remember along the way that America isn’t me. Like whenever things get too sappy or too serious, I gotta hit that delete button and write the brash things I’d never say and let America climb the walls and be free. So it’s going to be a little goofy, and fun-sexy, and everyone is still going to learn life lessons.

Joe, you’re coming off a run on “Howard the Duck” where you drew a variety of fun and strange stories and characters. So what’s it like moving from “Howard” to “America?”

Quinones: No differences, whatsoever. Next question.

Just kidding. Beyond the obvious “Chavez don’t got a duck bill” distinction, the books certainly have their similarities and differences. The focus has shifted, of course – “America” won’t center on jokes as “Howard” did, but the two both have their fair share of melodrama mixed with bombastic action. Chip and I tackled some moments of sincere emotion in “Howard,” and I think Gabby and I are set up to do the same with “America.” No comment on how sexy or not sexy Howard is. You do you.

[Laughs] What else can you tell us about the initial supporting cast of “America?” Will her girlfriend Lisa Halloran, play a role in the book?Rivera: We’ve got some fun folks lined up for this series, but everyone’s asking about Lisa Halloran and Kate Bishop. So, let’s be real — I can’t give away too many of the goods. But I will say this: you will catch Lisa and Kate in some intense moments throughout this series. Might not be how folks want or expect, I mean are relationships ever how we expect them to be? But they’ll be there.

And we have a wild crew of new faces ready to roll out and join the Marvel Universe. I mean, we’ve got some robotic sorority girls, some unexpected family members, and an entire college bursting with surprises. Be on the lookout for tough, ready to rumble women of color, and some of our favorite high profile superheroes that you know and love from Marvel. Maybe even some X-Men if you’re lucky…

Also, at some point, Joe’s dog is going to make a cameo in America. First one to find it gets an autographed picture of Joe’s dog signed by Joe. He might not know this but it’s happening.

Quinones: It’s my sister’s dog, actually. But he’s great, I tell you. Great. My cat Biggs showed up in “Howard the Duck,” becoming Howard’s cyborg cat. I love the idea of making this a tradition where I bring my favorite animals into the books I draw. It makes me happy.

What hints or teases can you offer up about the enemies America will be up against in your initial stories?

Rivera: We’re going to have fun with villains. Some will be plucked from Marvel’s history of creating some of the greatest villains ever. Others, we’re making up. We’re definitely going to play with the idea of jealousy and how that can turn someone with huge powers into an intergalactic threat. America’s building up her strength and some folks won’t like that. Some folks will feel like the power they’ve built up along the way is being threatened by this Latina lesbian so and so and they’re not gonna like that one bit.

But when does institutionalized power ever appreciate strength from beyond their ranks? This series will also be about resistance and rallying behind your people, things America already does so well. Watch what happens when something big really comes for her…

Joe what can you tell us about the overall look you want “America” to have? How does it compare to some of your most recent work?

Quinones: I didn’t have a label for it until Gabby mentioned it to me recently, but America’s overall look represents a “hard femme” aesthetic. Hard, tough and feminine. She won’t have just one look in our book, but several, ranging from super casual dorm-wear to rough and tumble, superhero duds. I’m trying to carry on the aesthetic tradition established by Jamie McKelvie on “Young Avengers,” but with some new twists. America is very much tuned into fashion, with a unique personal style that permeates her wardrobe. Doing my best to tap into that with Gabby’s help.

Gabby, what’s it like working with Joe on “America?” Which elements of his style do you enjoy the most? And Joe, what’s it like working with Gabby? Which elements of her scripts have really excited you so far?

Rivera: Joe’s artwork is astonishing. He brings America to life in this way where I feel like I could reach out and high five her or hug her. And…it’s fun! Joe’s got this goofy side that I really like and that works well with me. I can send Joe some pics of Selena or some donuts for inspiration and then bam, he kicks back some work that capture the essence of each of those things and applies them perfectly to the characters. Also, Joe’s an expert and he treats me, someone so new, with much respect and is down for all my ideas. I’m thankful to be working with him on this project.

Quinones: Oh, you. Gabby has just been great to work with thus far. She’s got a amazing sense of the character, her personality oozing off the page. And she’s already deftly given me both thrilling action to draw and quiet, nuanced, personal scenes. It’s been really fun to tackle on either end.

Finally, Gabby, “America” is your first comic and likely to be some readers first exposure to your work. What’s it like moving from prose to comic scripts? And readers who are interested in what you’re doing in “America” might be curious about your novel “Juliet Takes a Breath.” What would you like them to know about the book?

Rivera: Seriously, this is the coolest writing gig ever! I’m someone who’s just like a goofy nerdburger, daydreaming all the time. And now I’ve got this opportunity to create stories with folks who are daydreamers too. I can explore real life problems in fantasy worlds where all the things are possible. Damn, do you know what that’s like for a queer brown weirdo? It’s something that humbles and excites me to my core. When there aren’t any barriers in your way like racism or poverty, when you can afford to live and be free, damn, that world world gets to be all yours. That world can be anything and writing that story is a gift.

Also, the actual process is helping me hone my writing skills in a major way. This type of on-the-job education is invaluable. With comic writing, I get to practice being concise, (although you might not be able to tell) and still impactful with my storytelling. I work with skilled editors who also have grand imaginations and use them to guide me in the best ways. It’s really a gift to be here.

As for my first novel, “Juliet Takes a Breath,” that’s my baby. It’s just this sweet little goofy novel that I got to share with the world. It actually made it out of my laptop and into the hands of people. And yeah, it’s about a young lesbian Latina from the Bronx trying to figure out feminism while navigating LGBTQ things and her relationship with her mom. Those are all important elements about Juliet, especially when it comes to the importance of diversity in literature.

It’s also the story of some kid trying to be 19, make out with cute people, and question authority. Those are some of the most quintessential elements in American storytelling. Juliet is one of those hometown kids looking to see the world and grow up. And she also tells a mean one-liner while rocking the latest Jordans, so give her a chance, y’all.

“America” #1, by Gabby Rivera and Joe Quinones, arrives in stores March 1.

The post INTERVIEW: Exploring The Many Dimensions of Marvel’s America appeared first on CBR.com.

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[georgeluz]

Congrats on 900! if u r still doing the ask game can i request The Pacific (blurb) + BoB! face tag is /tagged/my-face + about page is /about INFJ, passionate abt journalism + truth. idealistic but realistic. compassionate but wont take any shit. i h8 disingenuous situations. integrity is v important to me. in a constant battle between my anxiety + doing what i think is right. v serious but i have a dry humor + swear like a sailor. have an adventurous spirit. just want to make a difference. thx!

NO MORE ASK GAME REQUESTS PLSNTHNX.

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. ???? RIP IN PIECES. I have so much going on I swear aeoghajdfjgr. Anyway. Thanks for the ask, you got it!

The Character I See You As: Joe Toye! I love this kid so much. I’ve read a lot about him, about how he could be super serious and dry-humored and even scary sometimes, but how he also was very protective of his boys and the replacements. I feel like someone wrote in a book that one of the guys was being threatened and Toye literally picked up the dude doing the threatening and was like “never do that again” and juST SET HIM BACK DOWN and made sure the other guy was ok. Also, again, someone talked about how he was insecure about how he never graduated high school because he knew he was smart, but he was limited by his lack of education and HNNG JOE TOYE. SO PURE.

Your Three Best Friends: Bull Randleman, Carwood Lipton, Bill Guarnere

The One You Don’t Get Along With: Sobel. I avoided putting him as anyone’s just because it’s way too easy, but honestly I feel like he (and Dike) represent a real issue for INFJs–authority they can’t respect. And it’s not that you won’t respect them anyway, but rather it’s the helplessness of knowing that for duty’s sake you must respect them, but also knowing they’re a fucking idiot and you could do better given the chance. Like honestly it’s the worst of the worst and especially difficult for INFJs, who end up feeling strained and frustrated and bogged down by ineffective direction like Sobel, etc.

Who I Ship You With: Carwood Lipton! Gentle, patient, sweet, super smart, good under pressure, I literally almost can’t think of anyone better. Like fire and ice, tbh. Lip would be there while you rant about something, whether it be about justice, your anxiety, someone annoying you, etc. He’s the gentle voice of reason, trying to steer you in the right direction while also listening to you complain about what you need to in order to move on.

Wildcard: Staff Sergeant. 3rd Platoon. Easy Company.

————————-

The Character I See You As: Bob Leckie/Hoosier Smith! ARE YOU LECKIE? ARE YOU HOOSIER? Journalism, idealistic but realistic, adventurous, serious, but super dry sense of humor. Anxious but still does what’s right even tho he’s internally screaming 24/7?? This is Leckie and Hoosier at the same time I feel like. This is also you I SWEAR. I mean I think in the show Leckie might get a little dramatic compared to you (though who am I to say?), whereas Hoosier has the overall salt but the COMPOSURE. But of course Leckie has the balanceof the idealism/realism and the love of journalism and adventure (whereas Hoosier just wants to sleep tbh and be left alone).

Your Three Best Friends: R.V. Burgin, Eugene Sledge, Ack-Ack Haldane

The One You Don’t Get Along With: EVERYONE. Just kidding. Just people who STEAL YOUR SHIT (looking at u larkin god). Disingenuous people, I know that goes without saying (you even said that), but yeah. Maybe Snafu since he’s a little off his rocker and almost nothing like you. 

Who I Ship You With: Chuckler Jeurgens. If this ain’t the realest….- Chuckler and Leckie are like mom and dad. So it would basically be the same for you two. Chuckler has a good sense of humor, is incredibly patient with everyone (despite the circumstances), always finds a reason to smile and goof around and boost morale. Whenever you’re anxious or despairing, all you have to do is crawl over to his bunk and lean your head against his bed and he’ll talk you out of it, talk to you about real world stuff, debate with you, anything to get your mind off things. He’s so pure….. I JUST.

Wildcard: Private. 1st Marine Regiment. Radioman.

Lil Blurb: You woke up in the aid station after Peleliu in a fit of sweat, cursing up a storm at the sudden chill. You realized you’d thrown off your blanket and sheets in the nightmare you assume you must have been having and reluctantly crawl out of bed, groaning as pain shoots up your spine like lightning. A mortar hit right behind you, sending you flying to the ground. That was one of the last things you vividly could recall before that that very moment, struggling to drag your blankets back into bed with you. Without another thought you crawl back into the cot, rolling onto your stomach, lulled into slumber once again.

The next time you’re awoken, the nurse is telling you that you’re being transferred to go home. You don’t know how long or how hard you’ve been sleeping. You’re groggy, muttering a few obscenities under your breath as you’re forced to change, gather your things, and join a host of other injured men (and a few women like yourself) to be sent back to the states. Your intestines seemed to twist at the thought, leaving behind the other marines. You felt almost guilty, wringing your hands. Hoosier, Leckie, Runner, and finally Chuckler. You were the last to fall. You had no idea where they were, where anyone was. You just knew you were alive.

You were transferred to San Diego hospital. It was the nicest facility you’d been in in probably a year, but that wasn’t reassuring. The white walls. The pristine decor–none of it felt right. It was all uncomfortable, oddly surreal after what you’d been through. You didn’t want to take it in. You just wanted to sleep until the wounds on your back turned into scars. The place in your shoulder where you were shot? That too. You’d almost forgotten about that, but it had happened so long ago, on Guadalcanal. 

After getting out of the wheelchair and stubbornly hobbling toward the woman’s ward (much to the nurse’s horror), a familiar voice called out to you from behind.

“Y/N?”

You stopped, shaking the grogginess from your head. You felt like you hadn’t escaped that feeling, the out-of-body, surreal feeling until that voice hit you like a brick wall, yanking you back into battle, into the memories suppressed.

“Lew?” You spin around on your heels. He’s still all height, hunched over slightly in pain; he couldn’t have been up long. Chuckler is one big crooked grin too big for him, ears too big for him, feet too big for him. He was barefoot, ridiculous as it was. You found him completely endearing. Two long weeks apart and all you wanted to do was throw yourself into his arms. He had done right by you, taken care of you, sacrificed for you.

“Holy shit, Y/N, I thought you were still in the Pacific.” Incredulous, he started forward, stretching out his hands to drag you into his chest. You didn’t resist (despite your aversion to public displays of affection), but leaned forward, burying your face into his hospital gown, gripping the fabric in your fists. 

“Jesus, fuck, Lew–Chuckler, I thought you were dead, god. No one told me anything.” You didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry, so you did both, finally releasing the gown and wrapping your arms around his waist. His nose was in your hair, eyes closed, waiting until he was sure you were done talking before he responded.

“Hey, hey now, we’re all good. Leckie and Hoosier too, we’re all fine, it’s all fine,” he soothed, dragging his fingers across your back. “Wanna go see them?”

You sniff, cursing yourself for crying on his shoulder. You left stains. Jesus, Hoosier would take one look and know for sure. You would catch hell for that. Wiping your nose and looking back at the nurse, who appeared disapproving (moved, but disapproving), you nodded your head. “Hell yeah, I need to yell at the two of them for leaving before I could say bye.”

Chuckler reached down pressed his hand into the small of your back, pushing you forward in the right direction. “C’mon then, Y/N, you have a lot of yelling to do.”

“Damn right, Chuckler.”