#National Red Rose Day | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rabbitcruiser · 1 year ago

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National Red Rose Day

Stop and smell the roses—literally. Send someone a bouquet of red roses, try your hand at growing them yourself, or put some in a vase to brighten your home.

A well-known symbol of love in addition to being a beautiful and fragrant flower, it’s no wonder that National Red Rose Day is such a popular occasion. Celebrating the many facets of the rose, National Red Rose Day is a time for gardeners, florists, and romantics to come together and enjoy the rose in all its splendor. National Red Rose Day gives fans a chance to see roses at their best, blooming in glorious abundance at the height of the season.

When it comes to roses, the choices are plenty, but with all of this choice comes great responsibility. If you are thinking of treating a lady or gentleman that happens to have botanical interests, you need to be mindful of the roses you choose.

First and foremost, let us address the small elephant in the digital room. If you are from across the water, roses can also mean a small cheap box of chocolates, 20% of which nobody will ever eat, unless you are hoping for a divorce, you should probably steer well clear of these.

Of course, when it comes to shopping for actual roses, you still need to be mindful. Roses are one of the international symbols of passion and love, but there are some roses, such as the Rosa violet Carson, which is often associated with death and getting closer to heaven.

Now, while you may approach the situation with the best intent, should you pass one of these beautiful rose hybrids to somebody with a little botanical knowledge, this situation is tantamount to visiting your parents with retirement home catalogs.

All joking aside, when it comes to the one flower that can place you into the embrace of another, or in some cases save you from a lengthy divorce, the rose really is that flower. The question most people seem to have at this point is about how a flower can have so much power, so let’s find out.

Why is the rose so powerful

It seems that from all of the universal constants that have been discovered over many centuries, the one that seems to have lasted longest and been most prominent is that men are useless when it comes to conveying their emotions.

Roses seemed to become somewhat a communication device for men to say something wonderful without ever having to say a word. In essence, it seems that the rose is, in fact, the earliest form of Snapchat.

On a more serious note, though, roses really are an international symbol of love. It matters not where in the world you may be if you present a loved one with a rose, you are certain to be passing over a message of love.

Having something like Red Rose day in the modern world is magical; the world is full of trials and tribulations, and it’s nice to think that an emotion as deep and complicated as love can be expressed with the giving of a single flower.

The history of National Red Rose Day

When it comes to when Red Rose day began, well, that information is a little skewed, and in truth, we don’t even know who started the whole thing off; the one thing we do know though, is why it began.

Believe it or not, Red Rose day used to be a part of the celebrations of Valentine’s week, but for some unknown reason became separated at some point over the last ten years. The history behind the red rose, and why we give it though, well, that is far more rich and full.

The earliest records we can see in regards to the cultivation of roses dates back almost 5000 years, and like most things, it starts in the far east. Rose cultivation started in China but soon found its way to Rome and Greece.

It is thought that roses were seen as a luxury muse and distributed among the rich who would then give them to artists to inspire them. It seems that, like most botanical pickings of this time, roses also found their way in the medicine of the time, and this was all before a single person had used one as an apology.

If we fast forward a little, we soon see that roses went from symbols of hope, peace, and love to become a symbol of war. In England, during the 15th century, there was a well-known war that saw two parties, both using the symbol of a rose to represent their army.

While now the rose is something that represents love, still to this day, we know this great 15th century battle as the war of the roses.

So, as you can see, even something as perfect as a rose can come with some bad blood in its history, the joy is that it’s most notable trait has carried through time, and it seems that it will continue to do so for many more years to come.

It seems that while the world is becoming infatuated with automation, technology, and doing everything online, days that celebrate romance will always hold a special place in the hearts of all.

Whether it’s Valentine’s Day or National Red Rose Day, you should try to make things as special and wonderful as you can for the person that you love. Nowadays, it can be hard to convey a message of love, especially with all the convenience of modern life that surrounds us.

How to celebrate National Red Rose Day

There are numerous ways to celebrate National Red Rose Day, so why not take some time to enjoy this special occasion? Some people visit a rose garden where exotic species are showcased wonderfully.

Others prefer to spend some time in their own garden, perhaps preparing a special meal to relish al fresco whilst enjoying the fragrance of their own red rose blossoms. National Red Rose Day is a great reason for a celebration.

On the other hand, you may even like to think outside the box and treat this as another day to show somebody just how much you care.

Whether it’s a special somebody or a family member, showing somebody that you care about them is never a bad thing. To help make the day special you could arrive home with a single red rose before giving your loved one a wonderful evening, or you could simply leave a rose before you head off to work, whatever you do, the gesture will go a long way.

When it comes to celebrations of passion and love, we can never have too many. So, if you haven’t celebrated National Red Rose Day before now, then perhaps this year should be the one where you start. After all, National Red Rose Day is becoming more and more popular with each passing year; you wouldn’t want to be the one in the dog house for not doing something special, would you?

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xoxogorgeousinpink · 1 year ago

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Best Wishes

#GIFER #national girlfriend day #happy #day #images #pictures #pink #red #white #rose #read #loved gif #gifs

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thepastisalreadywritten · 7 months ago

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By Katie Collier

6 November 2024

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raiyine · 2 years ago

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Read Every Day in October

At the end of last month, I saw an advertisement for the American Cancer Society‘s Read Every Day in October Challenge. And boy did I get excited. I enjoy the opportunity to read more, and this sort of challenge is something I can easily hold myself accountable for. Typically I read nothing but Halloween/Horror in October, but I had a few books on my faith that I wanted to read as well, which…

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batboyblog · 1 year ago

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2024 Senate Elections: You'd Better VOTE!

Yes it's election year yet again in America! but not just for President, almost as important will be the US Senate!

I'm not gonna lie this is a rough map for Democrats, we're playing a lot of defense in some pretty red states with even our best hopes for a pick up being pretty long shots. But even with narrow control of the Senate we've managed the biggest climate bill in American History a huge infrastructure bill thats bring high speed rail to America capped the price of insulin changed the law to allow Medicare to negotiate drug prices bring savings to everyone, and put over 160 federal judges on the bench, 2/3rds of whom are women and/or people of color the first time white men haven't been the majority of nominees by a President. So let's keep progress going by voting for, supporting, donating, and volunteering for the following candidates in the races that will decide the US Senate this year.

Arizona

Ruben Gallego (Hold)

After frustrating Democrats by repeatedly voting against major Democratic priorities, supporting the filibuster and putting donors over voters, Arizona Senator Kyrsten Sinema left the Democratic Party to become an independent in 2022. Democratic congressman Ruben Gallego was running to primary Sinema before she left the party and is now the likely Democratic nominee to unseat her and give Arizona the Democratic Senator it deserves. Gallego is a former Marine, combat veteran, Harvard grad, a former state representative, and since 2014 a member of Congress. Gallego is a member of the Progressive Caucus and is known for his blunt and combative style standing up to Republicans. In Congress Gallego has been a strong supporter of native rights advocating for tribes on health care and child welfare issues. Gallego is also the sponsor of a bill to bring about nation wide, free, all-day kindergarten which isn't available in many states. If elected Gallego would be Arizona's first hispanic Senator. Republicans hope that the Democratic vote will split between Sinema and Gallego allowing them to win this important seat. The Republican front runner is conspiracy theorist and Trump super fan, Kari Lake. Lake rose to national fame in 2021 for pushing conspiracy theories about Trump having won the 2020 election, as well as anti-mask and anti-vaccine Covid conspiracies. Lake was the Republican nominee for Arizona governor in 2022. During that campaign she ran on an aggressive anti-LGBT platform, saying she'd ban drag, and was against trans rights. Lake also is against Abortion in all cases. After losing to Democrat Katie Hobbs, Lake refused to concede, and still pushes the conspiracy theory that she's the rightful governor of Arizona. If you live in Arizona please make sure you vote, but more if you have any time between now and November, volunteer to help Gallego! and if you don't live there you can still Donate or buy a pro-choice shirt from his campaign!

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Florida

Debbie Mucarsel-Powell (Flip)

Florida's current Republican Senator Rick Scott is a right wing extremist pushing dangerous ideas even by the standards of the Modern GOP. During his first term as Senator Scott has pushed to defund the IRS, and the Department of Education. He's sponsored bills to punish schools that allow students to use preferred pronouns, to ban affirmative action, bans teaching critical race theory, and ban trans people from women's sports. Scott is against abortion in all cases. Most alarming Rick Scott proposed a radical plan that would "sun-set" ANY and all federal laws after 5 years, including Social Security and Medicare, Scott would place all federal programs and agencies on the chopping block every 5 years for a radical Republican minority to block their renewal and leave us without Social Security, or the EPA, to name just two examples. The likely Democratic nominee is former Congresswoman Debbie Mucarsel-Powell. Born in Ecuador, Mucarsel-Powell immigrated to the US when she was 14 and had work to help support her family. When she was elected to Congress in 2018 she became the first South American born immigrant and first person of Ecuadorian heritage to be elected to Congress. In Congress Mucarsel-Powell was a member of the Progressive caucus, she fought to expand medicare, and secured $200 million for Everglades restoration. After a narrow defeat in 2020 Mucarsel-Powell joined the gun control advocacy group Giffords to fight for gun control a personal issue for her after her father was murdered when she was 24. If you're in Florida please make sure you vote, and Volunteer to help remove on of the most extreme Senators, If you're not in Florida you can help Debbie win by donating.

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Michigan

Elissa Slotkin (hold)

Long time Democratic Senator Debbie Stabenow is retiring this election, so there will be a tough fight for control of this important swing state Senate seat. The likely Democratic nominee is Congresswoman Elissa Slotkin. Slotkin is a former CIA analyst, after retiring from the CIA she worked in the State and Defense departments during the Obama administration. Slotkin was first elected to Congress in 2018 winning and being re-elected in a tough swing district. In Congress she's fought for common sense gun control, supported the cap on insulin prices and Medicare drug price negotiation, she helped pass a law on drug price transparency, she championed the CHIP act to bring high tech manufacturing jobs back to America, and was a big supporter of Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. Slotkin is centering a pro-choice message in her campaign as well as gun control and bring down medical costs. Who the Republicans will pick isn't totally clear, it seems like it's between Former Congressman Mike Rogers and former Detroit Police chief James Craig. Craig ran for Michigan governor in 2022 before he was disqualified for fraudulent signatures on his nominating petition. Craig has listed cutting off US support to Ukraine as one of his top priorities, and endorsed Trump's 3rd run for President early in the primaries. Mike Rogers is also trying to win over Trump voters and has attacked the rights of LGBT students in schools calling it "social engineering". If you live in Michigan make sure to get out and vote, and also volunteer! And for everyone outside the state you can donate or buy some merch.

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Montana

Jon Tester (re-elect)

In most contexts Montana is a deep red state going for Trump in 2020 57% to 40%. This makes the reelection of Montana's only Democratic member of Congress and only statewide elected Democrat, Jon Tester maybe the toughest election for Democrats this year. A Senator since he was first elected in 2006 Tester has won a series of upset wins in Montana over the years. A 3rd generation farmer Tester has been as strong for small farmers and ranchers in Washington. Tester has always been a champion of accountably and transparency in government pushing ethnics and campaign finance reforms. Tester is rated one of the most effective senators and managed to pass more bills last year than any one else in Congress. He's never been afraid to stand up for the Democratic side even if it'd be an unpopular vote in Red Montana. Tester voted to impeach Trump twice, and he voted against all 3 of Trump's nominees to the Supreme Court. He supported President Obama on The Affordable Care Act and Dodd-Frank, and has supported President Biden on the Inflation Reduction Act and Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. Republicans seem likely to nominate right wing influencer and former Navy SEAL Tim Sheehy. Sheehy promises to get drag queens out of schools and the Lord's Prayer in to the classroom. He also hopes to repeal Obamacare calling for a "total privatization" of health care and made statements against the very idea of health insurance, insisting people should pay full price at point of use. If you're a Montanan make sure to vote to re-elect a champion of the little guy, and also volunteer! if you're not please think of donating what you can, if you can only give to one campaign this cycle this one, or Ohio are the most important!

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Nevada

Jacky Rosen (re-elect)

First elected to Congress in 2016 Jacky Rosen moved up to the Senate in 2018. In her first term as a Senator Rosen has championed green energy for Nevada. Together with fellow Democratic Nevada Senator Catherine Cortez Masto, Rosen has gotten millions for solar manufacturing in Nevada as well as millions to replace the state's school buses with electric, and programs to study new groundbreaking green technology. Senator Rosen has been a supporter of gun control, is in favor of banning assault weapons. She sponsored a bill, the Background Check Expansion Act, that would require background checks for all gun sales closing loopholes for on-line sales and gun shows. Rosen is pro-choice and has sponsored a bill to protect doctors from being prosecuted across state lines for providing reproductive care, and is a co-sponsor of a bill to codify Roe V. Wade into federal law. Rosen will likely face Republican celebrity and army veteran Sam Brown. Brown ran and lost a race for the Texas State House in 2014 and ran and lost for Nevada's other Senate seat in 2022. Brown stated he was in favor of getting rid of the Departments of Education, Transportation, and Energy. Brown is against Red Flag gun laws that allow police to temporarily remove fire arms from the home of someone deemed a danger to themselves or others. Brown also has refused to say if he supports a national abortion ban, but does say he's pro-life and wouldn't support any judges that weren't. If you live in Nevada make sure to get out to vote and volunteer to protect the state's green future and the right to reproductive care. If you're not in Nevada consider donating or buying some merch.

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Ohio

Sherrod Brown (re-elect)

Ohio together with Montana represents the toughest re-elect for Democrats this year. The state went for Trump twice, elected a right wing radical, JD Vaince, to the Senate in 2022 and has had a Republican governor since 2010. To complicate thing more Democrat Sherrod Brown is one of the most progressive members of the Senate, regularly scoring along side Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren for the most left wing in the Senate. From the time he was first elected to Congress in 1992 Brown refused to take the Congressional Health Insurance until all Americans could be covered. Brown first supported a Medicare for all bill in 2006 and has supported different efforts to expand Medicare and health coverage. He was a key supporter of the Children Health Insurance Program (CHIP). Brown is a strong supporter of unions and has struggled his whole career to protect unionized manufacturing jobs in Ohio. He was one of the first Senators out on the picket line during the UAW strike of 2023. Brown's hard work has help make Ohio the center of a new booming lithium battery manufacturing in America, a green manufacturing future for the state. Republicans look likely to nominate former used car dealer and father-in-law of Republican Congressman Max Miller, Bernie Moreno. Moreno's main qualification seems to be having been endorsed by Donald Trump. He lists among his priorities "End Socialism in America" and "End Wokeness and Cancel Culture". If you're in Ohio make sure to vote to re-elect a progressive giant and volunteer too! If you live out of Ohio donate, if you're looking for the race where your dollar will matter the most, this one or Montana guys.

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Pennsylvania

Bob Casey Jr. (re-elect)

First elected in 2006 Bob Casey famously beat incumbent Republican homophobe Rick Santorum by 17 points. Since first entering the Senate Casey has moved leftward on a number of issues. First elected as a pro-Gun Democrat since 2012 Casey has sponsored a number of bills to expand background checks, ban assault weapons, ban extended magazines, and well as supporting mental health funds for victims of gun violence. For a number of years Casey was called the last pro-life Democrat in the Senate, however in 2022 he came out in support of Roe V Wade and voted twice on bills that would have codified the right to an abortion into federal law. Casey voted against all 3 of Trump's Supreme Court picks and has long supported Planned Parenthood's contraception efforts with federal funds, seeing easily available birth control as key to reducing the number of abortions. In 2021 Casey published a plan he called "The Five Freedoms for America's Children" modeled after FDR's famous speech. He proposed automatically enrolling all kids in Medicaid, an expanded child tax cut, a federally supported college fund for all kids who's parents make under $100,000, expanded free school meals, more funds for head start and abuse prevention programs. Republicans are rallying behind Mitch McConnell's hand picked candidate, hedge fund CEO David McCormick. McCormick worked for the Bush administration during Bush's second term. McCormick's wife Dina Powell also worked for the George W. Bush administration and was a senior aid to Trump as well. If you're in Pennsylvania make sure to get out and vote for a solid Democrat out to solve child poverty in America and keep the Hedge Fund guy from Connecticut out, and Volunteer if you can. Remember you can donate where ever you are.

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Texas

Colin Allred (flip)

Texas is currently represented by likely the most hated man in Washington, Ted Cruz. Republicans hate him, Democrats hate him more, he has a very punchable face, he might be the zodiac killer (thats a joke and meme). From shutting down the government in 2013 to try to overturn Obamacare, to leading the charge in Congress to overturn the 2020 election on January 6th Ted Cruz is a greatest hits of the worst parts of the Republican Party of the last 10 years. When Texas lost power in the middle of a historic ice storm in 2021 Ted Cruz and family ditched the state to go on vacation in Mexico, classy. Cruz in the Biden years has cast himself as a culture warrior fighting against "woke" publishing a book "Unwoke: How to Defeat Cultural Marxism in America" in 2023 to kick off his re-election campaign. Texas is a traditionally red state but things are starting to shift and in 2018 Cruz narrowly won re-election over Beto O'Rourke. Democrats hope with the right candidate they can turn Texas blue and beat the most hated Senator in America. Democrats think Congressman Colin Allred is the man for the job. Allred is a former NFL Linebacker for the Titans. After the NFL he went on to get his law degree from UC Berkeley, and work in the Obama administration. Allred was first elected to Congress in 2018, unseating a Republican who'd been in office since 1997 and becoming the first Democrat to represent the area in Congress since 1968. In Congress Allred has supported bills to expand voting right and protect abortion rights, as well as gun control. In the Senate he promises to address Texas' shaky power grid and make sure Texas is never left in the dark again with its leaders missing. Lets do this Texas, make blue Texas a reality if you live in Texas remember to vote and volunteer, if you're an American who hates Ted Cruz you can donate to make in unemployed.

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Wisconsin

Tammy Baldwin (re-elect)

When Tammy Baldwin first ran for Congress in 1998 she was the first openly gay person elected to the US House and the first open Lesbian to serve in Congress. In 2012 she became the first openly gay person elected to the US Senate and the first Lesbian to be a Senator, she is still the only openly gay Senator. Through out her time in office Baldwin has been a tireless voice for LGBT rights, in 2022 she helped spear head the passage of the Respect for Marriage Act to help protect gay marriage, she's also a sponsor of the Equality Act to protect all LGBT people from discrimination. Baldwin is a progressive who was a member of the House Progressive caucus, opposed the Iraq War and supported impeaching Dick Cheney. In the House she introduced bills for a single payer healthcare system in 2000, 2002, 2004, and 2005. In the Senate Baldwin is regularly listed as one of the most progressive members, voting against tax cuts for the rich, supporting a bill to require companies to have workers on their boards, she sponsored a bill to create a public option in Health Care, and has supported gun control efforts. The Republican field to challenge Senator Baldwin is uncertain, but former Milwaukee sheriff David Clarke dominates the polls if he decides to run. Clarke's sheriff's department is accused a number of human rights violations from his time as sheriff, including allowing a prisoner to die of dehydration after 6 days without water in the Milwaukee County Jail. Clarke is a Trump super fan who has pushed conspiracy theories about mass shootings being fake, attacked Black Lives Matter, called Planned Parenthood "Planned Genocide", and called for the mass detention without trial of Americans because he believed there were a million ISIS supporters in America. If you're in Wisconsin make sure to get out and vote for a trailblazing icon and also volunteer if you can, all Americans can donate and support Baldwin wherever they are.

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If you're an American citizen and will be 18 years old (or older) by November 5th 2024, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! make sure you're registered to VOTE please check Vote.Org to find out what you need to do, what deadlines there are and act NOW

If you're an American living outside the US, YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO VOTE. Please checkout Vote From Aboard they have literally all the information you need to get registered and get your ballot wherever in the world you are, and Check out Democrats Abroad to take part in the global primary

Where ever you live in the US, there is an important life changing election happening! Get off your phone or computer and get involved, There are Events happening all around you right now Volunteer

Finally if you're a US citizen of any age any where on earth you can donate, donate to elect Biden/Harris donate to elect Democrats to the Senate, To the House, to Governorships, to local office

and the smallest thing you can do is reblog this very long post, thank you!

#2024 elections #politics #american politics #us politics #voting #democrats #Joe Biden #Republicans #donald trump #go vote

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 months ago

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Ideas Lying Around

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in DC TOMORROW (Mar 4), and in RICHMOND on WEDNESDAY (Mar 5). More tour dates here. Mail-order signed copies from LA's Diesel Books.

I get a special pleasure from citing Milton Friedman. I like to imagine that as I do, he groans around the red-hot spit protruding from his jaws, prompting howls of laughter from the demons who pelt him with molten faeces for all eternity.

If you're lucky enough not to know about Friedman, here's the short version. Friedman was a kind of court sorcerer to Ronald Reagan, Margaret Thatcher, Augusto Pinochet, and other assorted authoritarian, hard-right leaders who set us on the path to the hellscape we inhabit today. But before Friedman rose to prominence and influence, he was a crank. Specifically, he was a crank who dedicated his life to rolling back all the progress of the New Deal and re-establishing the Gilded Age:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/06/the-end-of-the-road-to-serfdom/

In his crank days, people were justifiably skeptical of this project. "Milton," they'd say, "people like New Deal programs. They like the minimum wage, the 40-hour work-week, and the assurance that they won't be maimed, poisoned, burned alive, or otherwise killed on the job. They relish a dignified retirement, quality education for their children, and the assurance that no one is starving to death in their country's borders. People like national parks! They like Medicare! They like libraries, museums, and reliable weather forecasts! How, Milton, do you propose to convince the vast majority of people that they should settle for being forelock-tugging plebs, groveling before their social betters for the chance to scrub their toilets?"

Friedman had an answer: "In times of crisis, ideas can move from the fringe to the center in an eyeblink. Our job is to keep good ideas lying around, in anticipation of that crisis."

When the oil crisis hit, when prices spiked in the USA and abroad, Friedman seized his opportunity. The years following the oil crisis saw a violent political revolution in which organized labor, social justice movements, and the political opposition to oligarchy were crushed under police batons and the guns of Pinochet's thugs. The world was transformed. Left parties like UK Labour were remade as austerity-pilled neoliberals (not for nothing did Margaret Thatcher call Tony Blair "her greatest accomplishment," and it took Bill Clinton to pass a welfare "reform" bill that was too extreme even for Reagan to get through Congress).

Friedman was a monster.

But.

He had a hell of a theory of change.

When prices spiral, when people can't pay their bills anymore, when their retirement savings are wiped out, anything is possible. The oil crisis wasn't Jimmy Carter's fault, but the voters still delivered a Ba'ath Party-style Republican majority in 1980. The covid shocks weren't the fault of the world governments that presided over pandemic inflation, but they were creamed in the ensuing elections.

Let's talk about Trump's tariffs here. Trump's goal is to force a re-shoring of the American industrial capacity that was shipped to low-wage, low-regulation corporate havens around the world after the Reagan revolution. The pandemic provided a vivid lesson about the problems with long, brittle supply chains where all the slack has been extracted and converted to dividends and stock buybacks. That kind of system may work well – at least to the extent that it keeps Walmart's shelves full of cheap goods – but holy shit did it ever fail badly. Re-shoring is a good idea, as are other forms of pro-resiliency industrial policy.

But re-shoring doesn't happen overnight. As we saw during China's covid lockdowns, when one supplier ceases to ship goods, other suppliers can't spring up overnight to take up the slack. China itself became a manufacturing powerhouse thanks to extensive state support and planning, and it took decades. That kind of patient, long-run, planned process is the best-case scenario (and it still caused wrenching dislocations to Chinese society). Simply throwing up tariff walls and demanding that industry figure it out – amid the resulting economic chaos and the political instability it brings – isn't a plan, it's a disaster.

Redistributing the means of production around the world is a necessary and urgent project, but it won't be advanced through Trump's rapid, unscheduled mid-air disassembly of the global system of trade. Tariffs will cause breakdowns in neoliberalism's fragile supply chains, and the ensuing chaos – mass unemployment, shortages, political rage – will make it even harder for countries (including the USA) to rebuild the productive capacity vaporized by 40 years of neoliberalism.

This is our oil crisis, in other worlds: a moment in which a belligerent superpower's ill-considered monkeying with the underpinnings of global production will cause chaos, the crisis in which "ideas can move from the periphery to the center" in an eyeblink. If Steve Bannon can call himself a Leninist, then leftists can call themselves Friedmanites. This is our opportunity.

Or rather, it's our opportunity to seize – or lose. Governments are defaulting to retaliatory tariffs as the best response to Trump's tariffs. This is political poison: making everything your country imports from the USA more expensive is a very weird way to punish America for its trade war. Remember the glaring lesson of pandemic inflation: a government that presides over rising prices will be destroyed by the electorate.

There's a much better alternative, one that strikes at the very roots of American oligarchy, whose extreme wealth and corrosive political influence comes from its holdings in rent-extracting monopolies, especially Big Tech monopolies.

Tech giants are the major factor in US economic health. Take Big Tech stocks out of the S&P 500 and you've got a stagnant market punctuated by periods of decline. Superficially, US tech companies have different sources of extraordinary profit, but a closer look reveals that they all share the same foundation: Big Tech makes the bulk of its money in the form of monopoly rents, backstopped by global IP treaties.

Apple and Google take a 30% cut of every dollar spent in an app, and it's a felony to jailbreak a phone to make a new app store with the industry standard 1-3% transaction fees. Google and Meta take 51% out of every ad dollar, and publishers and advertisers are locked into their ecosystems by abusive contracts and technological countermeasures. HP charges $10,000/gallon for the colored water you put in your printer, and third-party ink and refills violate the anti-circumvention laws the US has crammed down the throats of every country's legislature. Tesla makes its fattest margins by renting you features that are installed in your car at the factory, from autopilot to the ability to use your battery's whole charge, raking in monthly fees from you and anyone you sell your car to – and the reason your mechanic can't just permanently unlock all that DLC for $50 is the IP laws that your country agreed to enforce in order to trade with the USA. Mechanics pay $10k/year per manufacturer for the tools to interpret the error codes generated by your car, and the only reason no one is selling a $50/month universal diagnostic service is – once again – US-originated IP laws that came in a parcel with trade agreements that gave your country's exporters access to US markets. Farmers pay John Deere $200 every time they fix their own tractors, because the repairs won't work until a technician comes out and types an unlock code into the tractor's keyboard – and bypassing that unlock code is a crime under the laws passed to comply with international treaties.

These aren't profits – they're rents. It's money Big Tech gets from owning a factor of production, not money it gets from actually making something. The app maker takes all the risks, but Apple and Google cream off 30% of their gross income. Big Tech's profits are almost an afterthought when compared to its rents, the junk-fee platform fees and farcically expensive consumables. For tech firms, capitalism was a transitional phase between feudalism…and technofeudalism:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

America's robust GDP figures are a mirage, artificially buoyed up by the monopoly rents extracted by US Big Tech, who prey on Americans and foreigners:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/18/pikettys-productivity/#reaganomics-revenge

But foreigners don't have to tolerate this nonsense. Governments around the world signed up to protect giant American companies from small domestic competitors (from local app stores – for phones, games consoles, and IoT gadgets – to local printer cartridge remanufacturers) on the promise of tariff-free access to US markets. With Trump imposing tariffs will-ye or nill-ye on America's trading partners large and small, there is no reason to go on delivering rents to US Big Tech.

The first country or bloc (hi there, EU!) to do this will have a giant first-mover advantage, and could become a global export powerhouse, dominating the lucrative markets for tools that strike at the highest-margin lines of business of the most profitable companies in the history of the human race. Like Jeff Bezos told the publishers: "your margin is my opportunity":

https://www.marketplacepulse.com/articles/the-cost-of-your-margin-is-my-opportunity

In times of crisis, ideas can move from the periphery to the center in an eyeblink. Many of us have spent decades organizing and mobilizing against these extractive, dangerous, destabilizing abuses of technology, where the computer-powered devices we rely on for everything are designed to serve their manufacturers' shareholders, at our expense. And yet, these technologies have only proliferated, infecting everything from insulin pumps and ventilators to coffee makers and "smart" TVs.

It's time for a global race to the top – for countries to compete with one another to see who will capture US Big Tech's margins the fastest and most aggressively. Not only will this make things cheaper for everyone else in the world – it'll also make things cheaper for Americans, because once there is a global, profitable trade in software that jailbreaks your Big Tech devices and services, it will surely leak across the US border. Canada doesn't have to confine itself to selling reasonably priced pharmaceuticals to beleaguered Americans – it can also set up a brisk trade in the tools of technological self-determination and liberation from Big Tech bondage.

Taking the margins for Big Tech's most profitable enterprises to zero, globally, will strike at the very heart of American oligarchy, and the hundreds of millions tech giants flushed into the political system to put Trump into office again. A race to the top for technological liberation benefits everyone – including Americans.

Truly, it would be a rising tide that lifted all boats (except for oligarchs' superyachts - those, it will swamp and sink).

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/03/03/friedmanite/#oil-crisis-two-point-oh

#pluralistic #ideas lying around #milton friedman #global trade #trade #tariffs #oil crisis #theories of change #trumpism #anticircumvention #dmca 1201 #gatt #wto #isds #investor state dispute settlement

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meazalykov · 8 months ago

Text

welcome home

barcelona femeni x alexia putellas x youngadult!reader

summary: you find healing after switching clubs

warnings: swearing, bodyshaming, one mention of bodily fluids, I made up names of imaginary players who don't play for the nwsl club mentioned in this fic!!!, bullying, angst, yes there is a happy ending.

you grew up with your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ball.

at 15, you felt like the world belonged to you—a place where dreams became your reality. you’d trained hard your whole life to make it to the world stage, and by 16, you were living your dream as one of the youngest members of the 2019 world cup roster for the united states.

the national anthem playing, crowds screaming your name as you made the assist to rose lavelle’s goal—it was everything you’d ever wanted.

all of the happiness and thrill faded away when you joined the kansas city current. when you first stepped into the locker room, you were excited. new teammates, new opportunities—it was everything you’d hoped for.

you wanted to make friends, to be part of a family when it came to being with your first professional club outside of your childhood one.

the moment you walked through those doors, you could feel something off. the eyes on you were sharp, intense, cold.

“what’s up, big foot?” macy had said, the team captain, with a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"don't trip over those feet, yeah?" she had laughed, and a few others joined in, but the laughter felt harsh, mocking.

“yeah, we don’t need a kid coming in thinking she’s hot shit,” added jessica, one of the veteran players, her words dripping with sarcasm.

“try not to embarrass us out there.”

you laughed nervously, trying to brush it off as rookie hazing, but the tone was sharper than you expected. you told yourself that it was normal, that it was just their way of breaking the ice.

you couldn't have been more wrong.

practices started to become a war zone. it wasn’t just intense training; it was like they were out to get you. elbows to your back when the coach wasn’t looking, hair pulling, shoes clipped behind your heels to send you stumbling.

once, in a scrimmage, you remember trying to dribble past jessica. the curly-red headed girl came in late with a slide tackle, her studs connecting straight with your shin. you hit the ground hard, gasping for breath, and she stood over you, smirking.

“whoops,” she said, her voice flat and unapologetic. “you should be quicker, portland has fast forwards and you can’t defend them with those legs.”

the coaches didn’t do anything. you’d get up, limp back into position, and hear them say, “come on y/n, toughen up. you’ve got to be ready for contact against portland on thursday.”

they acted like it was all normal, like you were the problem.

in the locker room, it wasn’t any better. they whispered behind your back, cruel comments about your skills, your looks, even your voice.

once, after a tough practice where arianna had practically shoved you into the goalpost, you were struggling to keep your emotions in check as you unlaced your cleats. you heard them in the back of the room, their voices loud and taunting.

“seriously, what does the national team see in her? she’s not even that great,” jessica said, snickering.

“guess they needed a token teenager to fill the roster,” another voice added, followed by laughter.

“she needs to go back to playing with the u18s, kylie you’d do much better than her in the left-back position!”

you bit your lip so hard it bled, staring down at the floor, pretending you didn’t hear them. you never knew what to say. it felt like you couldn’t breathe.

everything you did felt wrong, like you were walking on eggshells every day.

and then came the night that broke you.

it was after that world cup loss to sweden, a moment that already weighed on you like a thousand bricks.

you returned to kansas hoping to throw yourself into training, to prove you could bounce back. but when you entered the locker room, your world came crashing down. your locker was trashed—like a hurricane had blown through.

your training kit was shredded, your cleats filled with some kind of foul-smelling gunk– obviously period blood due to a used tampon found inside of the locker. and scrawled in black marker across the inside door of your locker were the words,

spoiled, selfish, fat bitch!

you stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, hands shaking so violently you couldn’t steady them.

“what... what the fuck is this?” your voice came out a choked whisper.

kamryn, another girl on the team, walked by, a smug grin on her face.

“looks like someone had a bad month,” she said, fake sympathy dripping from her words.

“i hope you can still play tomorrow, stargirl.”

the nickname fans around the world called you, now being used to belittle you.

you couldn’t hold it in anymore. you yelled at them, your voice cracking with rage and desperation, “the fuck? what did i do to any of you? this is fucking insane and you think i am the problem?”

“you walked in here thinking you were better than us. you got handed everything, y/n. you don’t deserve to be here. you’re a little girl playing a big girl’s game.” jessica walked in, scoffing while smirking at the sight of your locker in the dressing room.

you left that night and didn’t stop crying until your eyes were red and swollen. but even then, the coaches did nothing.

they told you to toughen up, to show “mental strength,” as if their approval could patch over what you were going through. and that’s when you realized you had to get out—before this place destroyed you and any love you had for football.

barcelona was the escape you desperately needed. a chance to rebuild, to breathe.

when you landed in spain, everything felt fragile. it didn’t matter that you were now with one of the best clubs in the world.

the trauma from kansas stuck to you like a shadow. you walked into your new locker room, keeping your head down, afraid to say the wrong thing, terrified of the laughter you thought you’d hear.

but it never came.

instead, alexia, the captain, was the first to welcome you. “y/n! niña!!! so nice to finally meet you,” she beamed, pulling you into a hug that felt warm and real.

“i can’t wait to see you play. you’re from the states? we need to introduce you to keira and lucy– they’ve been wanting to meet you but don’t take their banter seriously.”

every day, they chipped away at your fear. little by little.

when you struggled on penalty kicks one time during training, patri stayed back with you after practice.

“okay you got this!!! by the end of this evening, you will never miss a penalty kick again. trust me! yeah? it’ll be fun.” she speaks with a thick catalan accent.

you were hesitant, scared to mess up, but patri never pushed. she was patient, kind. she’d pass the ball back to you and made you do penalty kicks over and over again until you felt comfortable, until your footwork was smooth, and every small achievement she celebrated like it was a goal in the final.

“see? you’ve got this,” she’d say, and you’d feel the corners of your mouth tug into a smile for the first time in what felt like forever.

it was a few weeks into your time with barcelona, but you still felt like an outsider.

even with the kind gestures, the smiles, the support from the team, you were carrying the weight of kansas like a ghost.

you stayed quiet during team meetings, laughed politely but never loudly, and when the others shared jokes or talked about life outside of soccer, you sat on the edges, half-invisible.

alexia had been watching you. she noticed how you shrunk into yourself, how you seemed to fade into the background during conversations.

during drills, your focus was laser-sharp—too sharp, like you were overthinking every touch, every pass. when you were off the ball, your eyes darted around, like you were searching for threats.

you reminded alexia of esmee when she first arrived last season—new, uncertain. but this was different.

there was fear and sadness in your eyes.

one afternoon after training, alexia pulled you aside. the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the pitch, and most of the team had already started heading back to the locker room.

you felt her hand on your shoulder, and you turned, trying to hide the nervousness in your eyes.

“niña,” she said gently, a small smile on her lips. “can we talk?”

you nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. “sure, alexia. what’s up?”

“it’s about you,” she said, her voice steady but soft. “you’ve been… quiet. more quiet than normal. and i get it, you know, being the new girl and all. esmee and kika were shy when they first came, but…” alexia paused, searching your face.

“this feels different. it feels like you’re afraid of us.”

you could feel your chest tighten, the words getting stuck in your throat. you didn’t want to seem weak, didn’t want to burden anyone.

“i’m not... i mean, it’s just—" you stumbled over your words, trying to find the right thing to say, something that wouldn’t make you sound like a mess. “it’s nothing. really.”

alexia didn’t buy it. she shook her head slightly, taking a step closer to you. “i don’t think it’s nothing, y/n. you barely look anyone in the eye, and when someone even brushes by you during training, you flinch like you’re waiting to get hurt. it’s not normal.”

she kept her voice calm, steady, like she was trying to reassure a frightened animal. “listen... if something happened before you got here, you can talk to me. it’s just me right now. no one else.”

you wanted to brush it off, to laugh and say she was overthinking, but the truth clawed its way up, burning your throat. you clenched your fists, staring down at your cleats, trying to focus on anything but alexia's eyes, which felt like they could see right through you.

“it’s… it’s hard to talk about,” you finally admitted, voice cracking on the last word.

“back in kansas, things were... bad. really bad.”

“what do you mean?” alexia’s voice was a whisper, gentle but urging you to continue. she stepped closer, her hand on your shoulder now, warm and steady.

you bit your lip, feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill.

“my teammates—they hated me. from the minute i got there, they acted like i was the opponent that happened to sneak into their dressing room. i thought maybe it was just... i don't know, maybe i did something wrong. but no matter what i did, they just got worse. they... they bullied me. on the field, off the field... they’d make comments, call me fat, trash my stuff, physically go after me during practice.” you took a shaky breath, your shoulders trembling.

“they hated me for being good– for being called up to the world cup before some of their veterans did. they said i didn’t deserve the call ups at all, that i was useless. every single day felt like... like a war that i was going to lose.”

alexia’s face hardened, and for a second, you thought you saw anger glistening in her eyes.

“and your coaches?” she asked, voice tight with anger. “they did nothing?”

“they... didn’t care,” you said, shaking your head.

“if anything, they made it worse. told me to toughen up, to get used to it, that it was part of being a pro. so i did. i tried to act like it didn’t bother me. but it did. every day, it did.”

there was a heavy silence. alexia didn’t speak for a moment, letting your words hang in the air. and then, she pulled you into a hug—tight, secure, like she was trying to shield you from all the pain you had gone through.

you stiffened for a second, unaccustomed to the softness, the genuine care, but then melted into it, burying your face in her shoulder.

“you don’t have to go through that alone anymore,” she whispered.

“this is your home now, y/n. we’re your family. i promise you—no one will ever treat you like that again. not while i’m here, and i am going to be here for a very long time.”

you felt the tears slide down your face, but they weren’t tears of pain anymore.

they were relief, a feeling you hadn’t let yourself feel for a long time. when she finally let go, alexia cupped your face, making sure you were looking right into her eyes.

“you are so much more than what they made you feel,” she said firmly, her voice laced with emotion. “and if anyone even tries to make you feel like that again, they’ll have to go through me. through all of us. okay?”

you nodded, a small, shaky smile breaking through. “okay.”

“did you go to anyone on your national team about this?” alexia asked, hoping you did.

“i did. alex was the one who encourage me to move clubs. trinity even promised to smash kansas when they go to washington dc to play against spirit.” you laughed, wiping a stray tear from your face.

she laughed back, squeezing your hands. “we’ve got your back, y/n. always.”

and she meant it. over the coming weeks, you felt the shift.

after that talk, alexia made it a point to check in on you.

the small gestures from the team slowly healed the wounds you didn't think would ever close.

when ingrid left you notes in your locker before every match with scribbled encouragements, kika making it a routine to kiss you on the head when you scored a goal past aitana in training, or when mapi pulled you into a bear hug after a tough game reminding you that she is proud of you– you felt at home.

masterlist

#barcelona femeni #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #fc barcelona #alexia putellas #mapi leon #ingrid engen #kika nazareth #trinity rodman

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murderousink23 · 2 years ago

Text

06/12/2023 is Lovers' Day 👫👭👬🇧🇷, Superman Day 🦸‍♂️🌏, National Jerky Day 🇺🇲, National Loving Day 🇺🇲, National Peanut Butter Cookie Day 🇺🇲, National Red Rose Day 🌹🇺🇲, Women Veterans Day 🇺🇲, Healthy Eating Week 🇬🇧, World Day Against Child Labor 🇺🇳

#lovers day #superman day #national jerky day #national loving day #national peanut butter cookie day #national red rose day #women veterans day #healthy eating week #world day against child labor

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capybaramurdock · 6 days ago

Text

💄💋𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞💋💄

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Plus Size!Reader Word Count: 1.3k Summary: Foggy and Marci’s wedding is around the corner, and you just need to find a lipstick that won’t smear through food, dancing, or “rom-com climax” level vows. Matt’s the perfect test subject, and your kiss-stained canvas.

“You want the perfect lipstick for their big day, clearly a matter of national importance…” “And here I was thinking you were just looking for an excuse to kiss me over and over.”

It’s not just science. It’s love.

Prefer to read on ao3? Available on there too! https://archiveofourown.org/works/66037951

Divider by: @dollywons

“…Matty, are you sureeee you’re not getting bored of this yet?” you ask sweetly, focusing on your reflection in the tiny compact mirror while you swipe on another shade, there’s been so many already, you’ve already lost count.

The eighth or ninth, maybe?

Matt is seated on the couch right next to you, his suit jacket discarded, collar and tie loosened, his lips coated and smudged in different shades of red, pinks, berries, wines, and a few corals. Your sweet, kiss-stained canvas.

“I’m blind, not numb to your touch,” he replies, he’s barely managing not to smile, despite his face nearly in a swoon. “Carry on, Counselor.”

You climb back over, your soft, plus thighs straddling his lap without hesitation. His hands find your hips automatically.

“Ready?”

“For science,” he replies, straight-faced and serious.

You kiss him slowly and deliberately. Once. Twice. Three times for good measure. Then pull back with mock precision to inspect the damage.

You pout slightly, checking his lips, brushing your thumb along the corner.

“…ugh, seriously? It still transferred.” You sigh dramatically, grabbing a makeup wipe and removing that shade from your lips.

“Well, I think I’ve got a few more rounds in me,” he offers, he can’t keep the smirk off his face this time, though. “Purely for science and the sake of research.”

Your pout grows as you ask him softly, looking at his face and how it resembles a blotchy Valentine’s Day card, “and you’re sure I’m not wearing you out?” You start to slightly lean away, like you’ll climb out of his lap if he asks.

He can’t hide the slightly blissed out look on his face now as he replies, almost teasing, “I’m a very patient man…and besides, I’m not exactly suffering.”

A chuckle escapes your lips as you settle into his lap further without a second thought. It’s easy like this, natural. His hands move back to you with instinct, fingers resting warm and steady on your thighs this time.

“I just…” you hesitate, reaching for another tube and twisting it in your hand for a moment, “I wanna make sure it lasts, y’know? I’m gonna be eating, talking, dancing…crying especially. Marci said the vows were going to be and I quote “full rom-com climax” level of emotional.”

“You want the perfect lipstick for their big day, clearly a matter of national importance…” he pauses to chuckle before he adds, “And here I was, thinking you were just looking for an excuse to kiss me over and over.”

“…eh, well I suppose that too…”

He lets out a faux dramatic sigh, but his hands squeeze your thighs like he’s not planning to let you go, “…ah, the things I do for love…”

You roll your eyes playfully, picking the compact mirror up and replying softly, “Alright now, Courage, you know you love it, but I need you to hush and be still so I can apply this one clearly.”

He doesn’t deny it, doesn’t even try. Why would he? But he does listen and stays still for you.

You swipe on the next shade, a soft rose with a light, glittery sheen. Pretty and subtle. One that makes you feel…a little more polished. A little more “wedding guest” and a little less “melting in a reception tent in over 100-degree weather”.

Matt must sense the shift in your mood, though, because when you lean in, one of his hands moves up from your thigh and cards his fingers through your hair, and his voice is softer, “What’s going on up here, hm?”

You shrug but look at him with a fond expression, “…it’s stupid…”

He waits, doesn’t push. Just keeps the one hand on your thigh and the other in your hair, holding you like you belong there, because you both know you do. So, you continue with your thoughts.

“It’s just…well, lipstick draws attention to my mouth…and pictures last forever…and I don’t know, sometimes I feel like there’s a spotlight on all the things I’d rather people not be focused on, y’know?”

Matt’s brows lift slightly, and he moves his hand from your hair to brush his fingertips over your bottom lip. “Sometimes, I wish you could see yourself in the way that I sense you when I touch you,” he murmurs. “You’d never second-guess yourself again.”

Your breath hitches as you continue looking at him fondly, hearts would surely be in your eyes if this were a cartoon.

“This mouth?” he continues, brushing his thumb there now, so gently it makes you shiver. “Is my favorite thing to kiss. To listen to. To wake up next to. You have no idea how beautiful you are when you smile. And you are going to smile at that wedding…or else.”

You giggle a little as you blink back the sudden warmth behind your eyes. “You’re just saying that because you’re covered in my lip prints.”

“That may be true,” he concedes, grinning. “But it doesn't make me wrong.”

You lean down, kissing him again…much slower this time. Not in a rush for the sake of testing. Just a soft, thoughtful, and sweet kiss of affection.

When you pull back, there’s a faint smear. You sigh. “Ugh, still not transfer-proof.”

Matt shrugs, completely content. “I’ll endure.”

You laugh, reaching for the next tube and another makeup wipe. “Mhm, you’re such a trooper.”

Matt hums, tugging you closer without effort, both of his hands moving to be a gentle weight on your waist now. “For you? Always.”

Then he leans in, not for your lips this time, but lower, and presses his mouth softly to your jaw.

You feel a faint tackiness immediately.

“Wait—” you blink, drawing back a little, “Matt, did you just—?”

Matt tilts his head, lips still tinted with your last experiment, not even trying to hide the smug edge in his smile. “Might’ve left a little something of my own behind.”

You grab the compact mirror again and look at your reflection. Sure enough: a warm rose-pink kiss mark, right beneath your cheekbone, like a stamp. A quiet little claim.

You glance back at him, cheeks warming. “That wasn’t part of the test.”

“No,” he says, his thumb ghosting along the edge of the mark. “That one was just for me.”

The air between you softens, full of things unsaid but understood.

Then—

“Matt? You home?”

You freeze.

Matt doesn’t.

He lifts his voice, deadpan. “Living room. Don’t mind the science.”

You make a soft, mortified sound and go to reach for the nearest makeup wipe, but it’s too late—Foggy steps into view and immediately short-circuits.

He stops. Stares. Eyes take in everything: the lipsticks scattered like crime scene evidence, your position in Matt’s lap, his entire face covered in various shades, and the clear smear of a fresh kiss on your jaw.

“Oh,” Foggy says flatly. “So, we’re doing this now, huh?”

Matt lifts a hand in greeting, not even flinching, he almost looks proud to have your prints all over him. “Hey, man. Testing long-wear lipstick durability. It’s for the wedding.”

You groan. “Matt.”

“Hey, it’s science,” Matt says. “Very serious business.”

Foggy gestures vaguely toward you. “Did she win, or are you both just... permanently stained now?”

“I’m not sure,” Matt says thoughtfully. “But I think I like this one best.”

You swat his chest with the back of your hand, trying to suppress your laughter as Foggy turns to leave.

“Oh, and Marci says no reds unless they’re bulletproof,” Foggy calls over his shoulder. “Something about reception napkins and revenge.”

The front door shuts behind him.

You exhale a dramatic sigh, your head resting against Matt’s shoulder. “He’s never gonna let this go.”

“He’s gonna bring it up in his best man speech,” Matt agrees, kissing the top of your head.

You lean back just enough to meet his smile, your voice a little softer now. “I think I found my favorite shade after all.”

His grin widens. “Yeah?”

You nod and press one last, perfect kiss to the corner of his mouth.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫

If you’re wondering, yes, she wore the glittery rose shade to the wedding! And yes, Matt looked smug the entire time! 💞

I got inspired by the pictured Archie comics scene! 💖

✨Hope you enjoyed! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome!✨

#daredevil #matt murdock #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x reader #charlie cox #soft matt murdock #fluff #established relationship #domestic fluff #domestic chaos #lipstick kisses #matt murdock x plus size!reader #plus size reader #humor #for science #matt murdock blurb #murdock circle #daredevil fic recs

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rabbitcruiser · 2 years ago

Photo

National Red Rose Day

Stop and smell the roses—literally. Send someone a bouquet of red roses, try your hand at growing them yourself, or put some in a vase to brighten your home.

Why is the rose so powerful

The history of National Red Rose Day

While now the rose is something that represents love, still to this day, we know this great 15th century battle as the war of the roses.

It seems that while the world is becoming infatuated with automation, technology, and doing everything online, days that celebrate romance will always hold a special place in the hearts of all.

How to celebrate National Red Rose Day

There are numerous ways to celebrate National Red Rose Day, so why not take some time to enjoy this special occasion? Some people visit a rose garden where exotic species are showcased wonderfully.

On the other hand, you may even like to think outside the box and treat this as another day to show somebody just how much you care.

Source

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ouiouibaguettt · 2 months ago

Note

Can I request a fluff Alexia fic??🥺🥺

Between Rivals and Roses

YN -> your name. YLN -> your last name.

hope that u will like it

2,1k of words! I do take request guys!!!

masterlist woso1 woso2 woso3

You never meant to like her.

In fact, you were supposed to dislike her.

Alexia Putellas—Spain’s golden girl, the beating heart of FC Barcelona, and the bane of your existence every time El Clásico rolled around. And you? The French firecracker in Real Madrid’s midfield, signed with pride and pressure on your shoulders.

You met her on the pitch first. Cold stares, sharp tackles, a smirk she wore like war paint.

“Careful, francesa,” she murmured during your first ever Clásico, brushing your shoulder with hers. “You might melt under the pressure.”

You narrowed your eyes, heart racing. “Not likely, reina. Worry about yourself.”

It was the start of something strange.

Because every match after that, she sought you out. A glance. A brush of hands when passing by. Words exchanged under the roar of the crowd—sometimes biting, sometimes teasing.

But off the pitch… that’s where things blurred.

You saw her at an awards gala in Madrid, dressed in red and gold like sin itself. She spotted you across the room, lifted her glass with that signature smirk, and you felt your heart hiccup.

The first real conversation happened after an international friendly. Spain vs France. The game had ended in a draw, tension thick but smiles exchanged as the teams shook hands.

“You were brilliant,” she said, stopping you in the tunnel. “You always are.”

You blinked. “Is that a compliment from Alexia Putellas?”

She shrugged, eyes twinkling. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just trying to distract you before the next Clásico.”

You laughed. Mistake.

Because after that, she messaged you. Once. Then again. Then it became a habit.

Training selfies. Voice notes of her teasing your accent. You sending her croissant emojis after she lost a match. Her sending you a Barcelona jersey with your name ironed on the back as a joke (you wore it once—alone—in your apartment, just to see).

The press would lose their minds if they knew.

The team would raise eyebrows.

But when she met you in a quiet café in Madrid on your day off, hood pulled low, and reached for your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, you didn’t stop her.

"You’re still annoying,” you whispered, sipping your coffee.

"And you're still dramatic,” she smiled, lacing your fingers together anyway. “But I like you like that.”

There were still fierce matches, still red cards and screaming fans. She’d shove you on the pitch, and wink when the ref wasn’t looking. You’d tackle her hard and mouth Oops with the most sarcastic smile possible.

But later, in hotel rooms after national call-ups, or during secret weekends in little Spanish towns where no one cared about rivalries, she'd kiss you like you were hers. Soft and sweet and nothing like the war you waged on the field.

“Someday,” she whispered against your skin once, breath warm and slow, “I’ll play beside you. Club, country, doesn’t matter. Just… not against you.”

You smiled into her hair, heart full.

“Until then,” you murmured, “we’ll just have to keep pretending we hate each other.”

Alexia chuckled. “We’re so good at pretending.”

But neither of you let go.

You swore you were being careful.

No Instagram likes. No lingering glances when the cameras were around. No replies to her stories, even when she posted a stupid selfie with her dog and you nearly melted on your hotel bed.

You were careful.

Until you weren’t.

It started with Olga.

You were coming back from international duty—France had played Spain, again. A brutal match. You and Alexia had “accidentally” collided three times, and at one point, you’d whispered, “Hit me any harder and I’ll take it personally.”

To which she smirked and replied, “Don’t tempt me, mi amor.”

Which you definitely did not think about on the flight back.

But Olga must’ve noticed something. Because when you came into training the next day, all smiles and a bit too floaty for someone who’d spent 90 minutes getting elbowed by her "rival," she gave you that look.

“Why are you smiling like that?” she asked, squinting at you across the locker room.

You blinked. “Like what?”

“Like you kissed someone. Or stole Barça’s playbook.”

You choked on your water bottle. “I did not kiss anyone.”

Technically true. Not during the match. Not in the stadium.

Olga narrowed her eyes. “Hmm.”

She didn’t bring it up again. Not directly.

But during a post-match interview a few weeks later—after a tense draw between Real and Barça—Alexia had done it again. She’d caught your eye from across the field, mouthed “Nice try”, and winked.

You glared at her (playfully), then immediately had to look away to hide your smile.

The next day, while reviewing match footage, Olga leaned over your shoulder.

“Funny,” she murmured, pausing the video. “This moment here—when Alexia looks at you like you're the last pain au chocolat on Earth. Very sportsmanlike, huh?”

You turned slowly. “You’re imagining things.”

“Oh, am I?”

You were doomed.

Later that evening, in the privacy of your apartment, your phone buzzed.

Alexia [19:32]: Olga knows??

You [19:33]: She suspects. She paused a wink. She’s basically Sherlock Holmes now.

Alexia [19:34]: Told you I wink too much 😭

You [19:34]: No. I told you that. Every time. And you still do it.

Alexia [19:35]: Can’t help it. You’re cute when you’re flustered.

You rolled onto your back and groaned into your pillow.

Later that week, a national break arrived. You had three free days. You told your teammates you were visiting your cousin in Zaragoza. Technically not a complete lie. You just… didn’t specify who you were staying with.

When you arrived at Alexia’s apartment, she opened the door in sweatpants and socks with little Spanish flags on them.

You pointed. “You are so on-brand, it’s ridiculous.”

She pulled you in by the collar. “And you’re late.”

You spent the night curled up on her couch, watching a movie with half-eaten popcorn between you. She kissed your temple during a quiet scene and you thought, Rivalries be damned.

But the next morning, as you scrolled through your phone, you stopped on Olga’s latest Instagram story.

It was a selfie. Her, with a very suspicious eyebrow raise. The caption?

“Hope your ‘cousin’ is nice. 😏”

You froze.

Alexia leaned over your shoulder and cackled. “Oh, she knows.”

You groaned, burying your face in her shoulder. “I’m never going to live this down.”

She kissed the top of your head. “Guess we’ll just have to score more goals and make her too busy to care.”

“…Or just tell her.”

“Or that.”

You sighed. “Maybe next week.”

Alexia smiled and handed you her mug. “Next week, then. For now, drink your coffee, ma belle rivale.”

You smiled into the rim. Maybe being bad at hiding wasn’t so bad after all.

Word spreads fast in football circles.

Faster, even, when it’s scandalous. When it’s unexpected. When it’s you and Alexia Putellas.

You don’t know how someone from Barça found out. Maybe it was a screenshot. A message left open. A little too much softness in her smile when she looked at you during warmups.

Either way, you felt it the moment you stepped onto the pitch for El Clásico.

Something was off.

The Barcelona girls weren’t just sharp—they were cold. You’d gotten used to the bite, sure, but this was personal. You caught Aitana staring at you like she knew everything. Like she was just waiting for you to slip.

And then it happened.

67th minute. The ball bounced loose at midfield. You sprinted. So did Alexia.

You didn’t see her until the last second—her body shifted, your foot came down, and suddenly she was on the ground, clutching her ankle.

“Shit—Alexia!” you dropped down beside her instantly, panic blooming in your chest.

But she looked up at you, pale and in pain, and whispered, “I know it wasn’t on purpose.”

Too late.

Because by then, they were there.

Mapi was the first. “Qué carajo estás haciendo?!” she snapped, grabbing your shoulder and yanking you back.

“Hey—HEY!” you shouted, hands up, trying to explain. “It was an accident!”

“You injured her!” Ona growled, stepping between you and Alexia.

“I didn’t mean to—”

That’s when it happened.

A fist. A blur. Pain blossomed across your cheek as Mapi punched you. Full force.

Everything went still.

You staggered back, clutching your face, eyes wide. The ref was screaming. Your teammates rushed over. Olga was already shoving between you and Mapi, yelling in Spanish, hands flying.

You didn’t even register the red card.

Didn’t care.

Because Alexia was still on the ground.

You broke free, ignoring the chaos, pushing past the ref to kneel beside her again.

“I swear I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

She reached up—barely—and touched your arm, eyes glassy. “I know. I know, mi amor.”

They took her off the pitch a few minutes later. You were sent off. Your coach looked like she wanted to strangle someone. Maybe you. Maybe Mapi. Maybe both.

The tunnel was dead silent.

Until footsteps echoed.

You looked up from the bench outside the medical room—and froze.

Mapi.

“Here to break my nose too?” you muttered bitterly, ice pack pressed against your cheek.

She crossed her arms, jaw clenched. “…She’s family to us.”

“I love her,” you snapped back, voice raw. “Don’t you get that? I would never hurt her.”

Mapi paused. Something in her expression shifted. “She defended you before they even finished checking her ankle. Said it wasn’t your fault. Said to tell you she was okay.”

You exhaled sharply. Relief hit you like a wave, and your shoulders dropped.

Mapi studied you for a long moment. “Just… don’t make her cry, francesa.”

Then she walked away.

Later that night, you were in your hotel room, half-asleep, when your phone buzzed.

Alexia [22:17]: I told them the truth. That it was an accident. Also, they’re banned from touching you ever again 😅 My ankle’s just bruised. I’m okay.

You stared at the message, tears burning the back of your throat.

Then another ping.

Alexia [22:18]: Come see me tomorrow?

You [22:18]: I’ll be there. With ice cream and a very bruised face.

Alexia [22:19]: Perfect. We’ll match.

You showed up at her door with a bruised cheek, two tubs of ice cream, and three kinds of guilt pressing on your chest.

Alexia opened the door in a hoodie three sizes too big, messy bun in full force, and a soft smile that made your knees weak.

“You look like you got hit by a truck,” she said gently, tilting her head.

You lifted the tub in your hand. “And you look like you need bubblegum ice cream and ten apologies.”

She stepped aside and let you in without another word.

You didn’t realize how tense you were until she curled into your side on the couch, her head resting against your shoulder like it always belonged there.

For a few minutes, you just sat there—eating in silence, your fingers brushing, the TV playing something neither of you were watching.

Then she looked up at you.

“You really scared me, you know,” she whispered. “Not because of the tackle. Because of your face when they came for you.”

You winced. “I couldn’t even explain. They were already ready to kill me.”

She reached up and ran her fingers carefully along the bruise on your cheek. “Mapi’s going to apologize. Eventually. I told her everything. That we’ve been… us.”

You turned your head toward her. “And what did she say?”

Alexia smiled faintly. “That you’d better be serious about me.”

You swallowed hard. “I am.”

Her expression softened like the evening light outside the window. “Good. Because I am too.”

She leaned up, kissed the edge of your jaw—lightly, careful of the bruise. You closed your eyes, letting yourself breathe for the first time since that tackle.

The next day, you returned to Real Madrid’s training ground.

And the second you stepped into the locker room, all eyes were on you.

Olga crossed her arms, eyebrow raised. “So…”

You blinked. “So… what?”

She smirked. “How’s your cousin?”

Groans filled the room, followed by laughter. Even Athenea threw a towel at you. “Seriously?! Alexia?!”

You sighed and slumped into the nearest bench. “Is everyone psychic here?”

“To be fair,” Misa said, “you’re not exactly subtle.”

“I tackled her,” you muttered.

Olga leaned closer. “Yeah. And then you looked like your soul left your body. It was weirdly romantic.”

You covered your face. “This is a nightmare.”

Olga nudged your shoulder. “Relax. We’re not mad. Just shocked.”

“She’s Alexia Putellas,” Athenea added. “And you’re you. Honestly? Kind of iconic.”

A long beat.

Then Olga grinned. “If you bring her to the next team dinner, I will make her wear a Real Madrid scarf.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

You sighed but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re all the worst.”

Later that night, your phone buzzed.

Alexia [20:10]: I told Patri about us too. She just sighed and said “finally.” Apparently we were never subtle.

You [20:11]: I think our teams might ship us more than we do.

Alexia [20:12]: Is that even possible?

You [20:12]: Not when you look at me like that after every tackle 😏

Alexia [20:13]: You tackled me ONCE. Calm down.

You [20:13]: Okay but I cried after. That’s romance, Putellas.

Alexia [20:14]: Come over.

You [20:14]: Already on my way.

#woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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n0tamused · 8 months ago

Text

Genshi/HSR Characters as Dragons!

A/n: It has been a bit since my last dragon post, sorry my friends. Gotten a bit under the weather but I think that small reprieve has given me a lot of time to think of these designs! So I really hope you like them. Let me know what you think, or maybe who you'd like to see next in dragon form?

Contents: Diluc Ragnvindr, Sunday, Trailblazers(Stelle and Caelus) x GN Reader (separate), angsty hcs and also fluff, implied religious trauma in Sunday's hcs? Trauma in general.

Words: 2000

Diluc Ragnvindr:

-The esteemed Uncrowned King of Mondstadt is not only famous for belonging to a rich family and being top of the food chain in the industry, but also for possessing a power unlike any other. Dragons and dragon shapeshifters, although not unheard of or rare, have been scarcely seen since the cataclysm. Besides Dragon Dvalin, not many others are present in Mondstadt today

-No one exactly knows whether the Ragnivindr family had dragon people before, as the family seems to have kept their history to themselves, but if secrecy was their goal then what did bring Diluc to display his skill with claws and fang? Some speculate that it is not the Ragnvindr lineage that carries this power, but rather it is his mother that passed down the dragon blood onto her son. Diluc doesn’t talk about it whatever the case is.

-Even in dragon form he is hard to mistake for someone else. He carries himself with power in every step and is always well kept.

-Kaeya used to tease him when they were children, when Diluc didn’t have much control over his draconic form and when he used to stumble from being a kid one moment and being a small hatchling the other. Kaeya would pull at his tail only to get smacked by it. But the two boys were inseparable and trusted one another. Kaeya never spilled the secret of his red-headed brother’s abilities

-Not even the childhood friends Jean and Barbara knew of the secret

-Yet, that dreadful night came when Crepus died, and flames soared so high and so hot that not even the rain could quench it.

-It goes without saying that Diluc carries a lot of guilt and trauma from those days and for the first time in his life he found himself truly and utterly alone. He had no one. Crepus was dead, Kaeya betrayed him, Adelinde was just a maid, he couldn’t trouble her and he and any other friend he may have had in his youth have long since drifted apart.

-Grief turned to anger and that anger swallowed him, pushing him onward on the path of vengeance.

-Shneznaya had suffered much of his attacks - well, the Fatui there did, Diluc never risked harming a civilians, and he had saved quite a few hostages that the Fatui had gotten their hands on. In the land of ice, Diluc almost died as well once he came face to face with one of the Fatui Harbingers, and a dragon shifter at that too. He managed to live by the skin of his teeth, dragging his battered self into the snowy deserts that stretched on endlessly

-That incident ultimately sent him back to his home. He had learnt much and suffered plenty, it was time to let the winter turn to spring.

-Adelinde and Elzer had sent him many letters, he knew, he received most of them. Yet he never had the heart to respond to them..

-He came back a new man, scarred both in flesh and soul, yet a small piece of him was… content, maybe numb too. The cold of the nation Tsaritsa governs over certainly took its toll on him.

-If truth be told, he didn’t expect to return from the trip and he certainly didn’t think he’d ever form any sort of notable relationships in his personal life. He didn’t look for them nor did he particularly look forward to any either. His wound always felt too fresh to let anyone close

-Yet you just managed to do just that. Get close enough into this barricade he built around himself, and you helped put soft linen around his wounds, holding him close when he yearned for touch, leaving him be when he yearned for the cold.

-It took a while, but a rose in the wall of ice began to bloom. Flowers, no matter how delicate, always find cracks to grow in, even stronger than on solid ground.

-Diluc is quite protective of you, very much so, but he is not pushy with it. He understands boundaries and he himself is not a fan of always hovering over someone’s head or being in someone’s space. He does have his ears and good eyes, not just his own, that would alert him should any harm come to you

-You did find some of his feathers around the winery. At first you didn’t know they were his, so you just picked it up as it was still a rather impressive feather, yet it became even more precious once you learnt it belonged to him. Diluc didn’t understand why you’d keep it or regard it with so much admiration, but he wasn’t going to voice whatever protest he had that soon died on his tongue

-He reveals his dragon form to you even later, in the lush grass around the Dawn Winery during one dusky evening. Winter was coming so the air was chilly and breezy. You wanted to watch the sunset and to eventually stargaze, but Diluc wanted you warm while you did that, and soon his dragon form was lying behind your back, his warmth seeping into you and keeping you comfortable.

Sunday:

-Not every eye that is open is seeing, and not every eye that is closed is dreaming, so who are we to judge another? Sunday, the dragon in rule over the Land of Festivities, had long since ascended past a simple ruler. His current form alone demanded a certain form of delicate respect, a cautious one at that.

-No one remembers how he may have looked like before, if he had eyes or if those had been claimed by the Harmony or ▇▇▇▇

-Aeon of Harmony keeps their eyes closed, and in doing so rids themselves of any subjective thoughts. All are equal, and together we are stronger, such is the mantra of Harmony and Sunday was adept at putting that image forth. People were happy, people were content.

-How many wings does Sunday have that are his own? Only two pairs. One pair meant for flight was crippled, cut short, and the other pair shields his eyes from the world. He now only moves and flies when THEY wish he flies, when THEY allow it, when THEY deem it necessary, and not anytime else. These wings are a burden and a blessing. They’re not his own but he hates to think they’d hurt him should he make some error - not that he would, he won't allow himself an error. No..

-Sunday inhabits his dragon form a lot of times, which, in a way, is also dictated by THEM. The only time he is human is when he goes behind the screen to listen to people confessing their bad deeds and their sins, bestowing his blessing and forgiveness unto them and guiding them back on the right track. THEY are merciful, he says, you have been forgiven.

-His words of advice and the action he took to ‘renovate’ the Land of Festivities(Dreams) have gained him much support and love and even many more followers where he previously had less. People generally did like the Oak family, they also loved his sister. She was the pearl of the Oak family, the sun, and he was the moon and the sea.

-The colorful pair of horns on his head is said to come from the Harmony as well, it is THEIR blessing to Sunday, to look more formidable yet more approachable. It is THEIR gift. People know and people see this as a sign that he is the true leader they should follow. Many have become more easy to get to do certain things - most of them good yes, like behaving and upholding the rules while in the Dreamscape, but other actions came as hidden tactics from THEM to harvest the necessary power needed for the next step.

-Sunday has become lost in this grand scheme of things, and even the thought of the next morning became a thought too far to consider. He barely has time alone and to himself, he can never escape the eyes of THEM.

-He hates to trouble you. You two have drifted apart it would seem, yet from time to time Sunday would find you visiting him, wishing to give him company at least for a little while. And silently he prays he can indulge you - he wants to, he misses you, your warmth, your presence, your voice, your touch. He is welcoming to you. You have an idea of what’s happening: stress, work, duty - it is a response that he offered one too many times, but there was more, something you couldn’t dig up. It was a thorn in your side, you couldn’t get it out.

-So you sit with him, sharing some words and stories over dinner, tea and cakes. Other times you lay with him, his ear to your chest, listening to the gentle drumming of your heart, a lullaby that is the last thing able to have him sleep soundly.

-He dislikes for you to see him in his dragon form, he considers it broken although it looks angelic in the eyes of the majority, but as it is the form he is found in a lot of the time it is unavoidable. Yet you are the only person he allows to touch him, besides his sister.

-Touch him, pet him, do as you wish. He is there for you.

Trailblazers:

-Double trouble, Baseballer of the Cosmos, the Nameless, the…*looks at smudged ink writing* Yes, the esteemed Trailblazers!

-You may have heard many stories about them, but once you get a look at them in reality, you’ll see just how amazing they are. The world is vast, yet they seem to shock everyone with their…otherworldly appearance.

-They both claim they weren’t like this before - they were two different people, but now they’re not and they do not remember how it all came to be this way. It is odd, but they’ve gotten used to it.

-Despite the appearance, Stelle is the more aggressive of the two and usually packs a more meaner bite, headbutt or a nastier scratch of the claws. Caelus is more shy, despite him looking more scary, he is sheepish and a tad bit more naive. But both of them are determined to get to the bottom of their story and to get back to their own bodies. The stellaron within them also seems to have something to do with their current predicament.

-There were times where they were glad for it, as they could provide each other with company and comfort, their heads nuzzling their cheeks together or tangling their necks when they go to sleep in the dragon form.

-Going in human form is rather complicated, neither of the two like it as one would have to be “dormant” while the other roams the world. The dormant one is able to hear most of what goes on outside, but they’re stuck roaming the subconscious like a heliobi - roaming through hazy memories and corridors. They have gotten used to each other's company so much that it is odd to be “alone”.

-They both love the express a lot and their significant other - which also puzzles them as to how they even have one to begin with.. but alright, they’re not arguing against it nor are they dissatisfied. It is funny how, at times, one of them can get sassy with the other when it comes to dates and things, sometimes even jealous.

-But it is cute, and it works out in the end.

-At times there are situations where it would be better for either Stelle or Caelus to go (battle - Stelle; something more diplomatic - Caelus), so the two can switch back and forth if really necessary

-Their tail in dragon form is something like a beaver tail, although much fluffier. It can pack a nasty hit if you’re unfortunate to be on the receiving end of their attacks..

Size chart:

Tags: @moonlitreveri3 @lexidraws2 @drowning-in-cabbages @creationsabyss @grimulf-of-the-wilderness @st4rrl1ghtwastaken @the-inquisitive-constellation @voiddance @the-bilkush @fictionally-attached

+ @not-the-darknight (hope you don't mind the tag on there! <3)

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natalievoncatte · 8 months ago

Text

1. Leaves

Lena was, in all honesty, having the time of her life. Since they’d arrived here, she had finally relaxed. Really relaxed. Lex was gone. Capital-G Gone. The last of Cadmus had been mopped up. The Conpany was no longer a problem- L-Corp was being sold off, from entire divisions down to sales of old office chairs. The Estate and nine-tenths of the family holdings were all being sold off, and the money quietly funneled into a holding company. Sam Arias would manage Lena’s wealth.

Lena had nothing to do anymore, and it was glorious. She’d done what she’d never done in her entire life: rest. She ate when was hungry, slept when she was tired. She stayed up late finishing a thriller novel she’d grabbed off one of Kara’s tables and slept it off the following day. She could do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, so one day she said, “Let’s go watch the leaves change.”

“Not much of that in National City,” Kara had said, not looking up from her laptop.

Lena was flipping channels when she made the suggestion, another pedestrian activity that had been too far beneath her to ever indulge during her CEO days.

“I’m serious,” said Lena. “I’ll rent us a cabin, book a flight, and we’ll be there by tomorrow morning. Vermont, or maybe New Hampshire.”

Kara looked up. “I could just fly us.”

“Short distances only,” said Lena.

Kara weighed it for a moment. She looked at Lena for a drawn out instant, eyes darting this way and that. Lena knew she had a deadline; she had become privy to the details of Kara’s life ever since she started couch surfing at Kara’s place after dumping her chic penthouse on some petroleum heir from the Emirates.

She had been “crashing” at Kara’s place for three months and had her own key, but they weren’t talking about it. Lena had remained on the couch, falling asleep to YouTube videos of molten lava and cat purring sounds, while Kara puttered around the house.

There were moments of tension. Pauses during shared meals. Moments when they pressed closed on sofa, times when Kara got up to go to bed and Lena felt this yearning to follow that she never quite obeyed.

Kara was thinking. Hard.

“Rent a cabin?”

“Yeah, someplace remote. So you can take a break. You’ve been working harder than ever, Darling. It almost feels like you’re avoiding me.”

Kara swallowed. “Okay,” she said. “We’ll fly. The regular way.”

They did, arriving in Maine less than a day later. Lena rented a Land Rover (because they were on an Adventure) and did all the driving, three hours from the airport to the cabin.

Kara rode in silence, though Lena heard her gasp.

The trees were beautiful. They were alive with color, as if an impressionist master had made the world a canvas and run riot. It was more than a mass of reds and yellows and oranges. It was astonishing.

It was dark when they arrived at the cabin. Lena had chosen one with two bedrooms, though she hesitated when she did. It had a full kitchen with a gas stove and all the amenities but also a fire pit and picnic table and gazebo, and overlooked a private swath of a small lake. It was like something out of a Bob Ross painting.

They were both tired from the flight, or at least Lena was, and turned in right away. When she rose the next day, she cheerily told her cabin-mate she was headed into town to get some supplies.

Kara went out to chop wood. Lena, of course, watched a few swings before leaving. Kara didn’t really need an axe but Lena didn’t care; she was preoccupied watching the muscles of Kara’s shoulders and back as she swung the splitting maul.

Lena got back before noon and carried the groceries inside, enough for her to use the fancy kitchen to prepare a mighty feast for her companion.

She didn’t hear the sobs until she had most of it put away. Lena bolted to the back door and stopped.

Kara was sitting on the picnic table, feet resting on the long board that acted as a seat. She was holding a single golden leaf on her hand, studying it and sobbing softly to herself.

“Kara?”

She looked up, soft blue eyes wet with tears. Lena felt a wave of grief but also panic, rushing to the table.

“Kara, what’s wrong?”

“I,” Kara started. “Lena, I’m scared.”

Lena swallowed hard. “Why?”

Kara looked at the leaf. “Another year past. The leaves turn colors and fall, school starts, things change.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Alex is married now. They’ve got a kid to raise. Nia and Brainy will probably get married soon. We hadn’t had a game night in two months.”

Lena swallowed. Kara was right. When Lena had first joined, then rejoined, this wonderful found family had been aggressively social, and now they forgot to text as often as not. They all spent more time at home or at their real jobs than at the Tower. The world had just started moving on. Kara didn’t even wear the cape every day anymore.

“I know,” said Lena, her voice thick. “But you’ve got me.”

Lena felt her pulse start to race. Kara had been so distant, she couldn’t help wonder if she was enough. If boring, retired Lena wasn’t enough. Oh God, what if Kara was thinking about going to Argo? Or the future?

“Not forever,” said Kara, her voice cracking like glass. She let the leaf drop from her fingers. “Eventually you’ll go. All of you. Brainy, Nia, Alex, Clark if he doesn’t come back from Argo. You.”

“Oh,” Lena said, softly. “Oh, Kara.”

“I think I might be immortal,” Kara whispered. “I don’t feel any aches or pains. Nothing about me changes. I don’t forget things like people do. My body just keeps repairing itself and it never makes any mistakes. What if I’m just like this forever? Or even a thousand years? What if everyone is gone and their kids are gone and no one knows who I am anymore?!” she was frantic now, the words coming too fast.

Lena reached out, tentatively. She put her hands on Kara’s shoulders and pulled herself in, wrapping her best friend in a hug.

Birds chirped, the waters of the lake made soft glug-glugs, and all around them was the soft tapping sound of the leaves, already letting go.

“I won’t leave you,” Lena whispered. “Kara, I won’t. If I have to live forever I will. I’ll find a way. Tech, magic, fifth dimensional imps. I’ll find a way.”

Kara sighed, arms firmly around her.

“Do you need space?” Lena asked. “I could leave you alone for a bit. Look for a place when we get back, so I’m not on the couch all the time.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Kara blurted, almost cutting her off. “I know I’ve been distant, it’s just… I keep looking at you and thinking about all the time I’ve lost and all the mistakes I’ve made and how I’ll regret it forever. We have so little time and I’m so scared I’ll lose you.”

Lena pulled back to look at her. “We have a long time to make more memories. As many as we can.”

“I’ll lose you too,” said Kara. “I know you want more. A family, a partner. You’ll start to have less time for me. You’ll all just fall away and I’ll be stuck here alone.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“How can you say that?”

Kara started to pull away. Lena stopped her with a tug on her arms. It stunned her, sometimes, how she could overpower a god with her tiny human hands. How she could stun the other whirlwind or a touch.

“Kara,” said Lena. “I don’t want someone else. I want you.”

“Me?” Kara squeaked.

Lena cleared her throat. “I wanted to tell you at the wedding. I mean, I didn’t dress like that and go stag for the hell of it. I just lost my nerve and you seemed so overwhelmed.”

Kara blinked a few times.

“You want me?” said Kara.

Lena felt a cold rush of terror. She’d just blurted it out, artlessly, unplanned.

“Like want me want me? Like kissing want me?”

Lena licked her lips. “Yes. I’d like to kiss you right now, if you let me.”

Kara settled back into the table, leaning forward. Lena leaned in, pushing her back slightly, moving her hands from shoulders to hips, scoring the way Kara tensed and trembled. She was hardly inexperienced, Lena knew, but something about this felt like a first kiss, even for her. It tasted like one, too, down to the quivery way their lips met.

Kissing quickly became something more. Lena didn’t know if she was pulling or Kara pushing. It didn’t much matter; the path led to the bed in Kara’s room, marked by a trail of shed clothing.

Years of anticipation overwhelmed them both; dinner was forgotten, and they didn’t even emerge until the next day.

It was in the morning sun, the light turning Kara’s skin gold, that Lena saw it. Twisted within one of the curling locks of hair, splayed around Kara’s head on the pillow, was a faintly visible thread of purest silver, chased through the gold like an engraver’s masterpiece. Lena couldn’t help but twirl the errant strands around her finger.

As Kara slept, she looked up through the window and watched the wind as it caressed the leaves.

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