#but it's not inherently any more 'valuable' than what you might do on a phone

[scientia-rex]

Long ask. I didn't see that you had answered anything similar.

How do I do activism? Yes, I could Google it, but I would rather learn from a stranger with claimed yet unverifiable experience on Tumblr than from a stranger with claimed yet unverifiable experience anywhere else, and I'm here and so are you and we can talk and have a [para]social interaction. I won't bore you with a condensed autobiography, but I have a lot of experience fixing mistakes, not unlike being a physician, but far less noble, what David Graber would call a "duct-taper". It's partly what led me to socialism. I fixed mistakes but could not fix the root causes and, when I investigated those causes, I ran into structure. I couldn't explain the human behavior I witnessed as human nature, because it wasn't my nature and, as far as I know, I'm human, so the only explanation I could come up with was that the structure of the company I worked for created the problems I was trying to solve, and I had no power to change that structure, and no desire to join the psychopaths failing up the corporate ladder. I expanded my thinking outward and saw the problem inherent in capitalism and all the associated -isms and -archies, all the while trying to figure out what I could do that could possibly change any of it. I dove into progressive politics, read theory, consumed all the lefty content I could find, and thought, and keep running into the same problems. But even if the root causes cannot be addressed, the effects still need to be, because the effects are people, hence activism.

How do I talk to congresspeople? I email them about issues, but am frankly afraid to call them. Shall I get voice mail, or does a person pick up? If the latter, I'm assuming it will be a secretary. I don't want to be mean to a person answering phones. I've been one of those people getting yelled at or threatened because of events I did not cause and could not possibly prevent or change and, maybe I'm oversensitive or have PTSD or just a hyperactive amygdala, but I cannot overstate the damage those negative experiences cause. Sure, in the grand scheme of things, the lives that can be saved or improved outweigh a few people's hurt feelings or possible psychological trauma, but I would prefer not to turn this into a trolley problem if at all possible. Maybe it's a stupid question. Maybe I'm overthinking it. I can be charming and I have no lack of empathy; I can politely disagree. Shall I have to argue with anyone? Or is it a thank-you-for-your-participation-I-will-tell-the-congressperson-have-a-nice-day situation?

How do I get a job doing good things for people? This is somewhat pressing as I quit my corporate job five years ago, to have what turned out to be a midlife crisis, and have been living off savings (that are running out) ever since. I want to help and don't want to be ashamed of what I do for a living. I've always been able to do anything I've ever tried to do, but I'm 45 with little formal education or qualifications, and am thinking it's maybe too late to go back to school. Most of the non-profits I see seem like little more than scams. And perhaps the most serious complication: I'm a loner, more out of habit than inclination. I'll spare you the background, but I have no connections and no idea how to make them, and I don't believe I have any particular skills so valuable that should confer an immediate advantage or demand for my labor, but then again I don't know what is in demand.

It's OK if you can't answer some of these things. I simply have no one to talk to about them who can give any actual advice and figured you might. Thanks.

How to do activism: The first thing you need to know is your axe to grind. It was easy for me. I've been out since I was 13, nobody ever believes a girl is bisexual, it's always "you want attention" or "you're secretly a lesbian." That was in 1997. I went through hell and I'm bitter about it. So when I realized I liked medicine, I realized I could turn my life into an extended revenge arc by moving home and telling everybody it's OK to be gay. Two birds, one stone. I work with a woman who didn't get her axe to grind until about three years ago. She realized she was fed up with people abandoning dogs. She's one of the most active volunteers at the local shelter now. She's saved a lot of dogs' lives. She didn't start out knowing anything about it, but she told the shelter she wanted to volunteer, and they've helped her grow through the rest of it. My husband works with the local food bank, because his mom's neighbor (who is a family friend and sweetheart) wrangled him in to serving on the board, so now in addition to board meetings once a month he goes in sometimes to do things like help his mom's friend unload trucks. Sometimes the cause picks you, sometimes you pick the cause, sometimes you are the cause. And no matter what the cause is, someone else is already working on it. Someone else already cares deeply and if you show up ready to be hands on and help out, with humility because you know that you don't know everything, they will help you learn how to be effective. I started out in medicine by volunteering at the emergency room near where I lived. I pushed a linen cart around and restocked gowns in rooms, and when I couldn't fit any more washcloths into drawers I cleaned doorknobs. One of the nurses once told me she really appreciated that I cleaned all the doorknobs, because it wasn't getting regularly done. I am in medicine now because of many, many people I asked for help and who helped me because they wanted to contribute to justice and equity in medicine, whether for queers or rural people or women. This is, and has always been, a combined effort. Alone we beg, together we bargain.

Calling elected representatives: Oh god I know, me too, calling strangers is the LITERAL WORST. I'm 40 and I'd rather pepper-spray myself than argue with a human on the phone. Wait until after hours and you'll get a voicemail. I like to leave voicemails that start with "My name is Dr. Rex, I'm a constituent of yours, and I VOTE, and I'm calling about ____." That's honestly about all it takes--when I was hanging out with the lobbyist she told me they keep lists with tick-marks for how many calls, emails, etc., they get on a topic. Calls count for more. The more effort you have to put in, the more engaged they know you are. So call, but if people scare you (and the people who pick up are almost always nice, if you do get a person, and they will 99/100 times say "thank you for your call, we will pass your concerns along to so-and-so"), call at night.

Going back to school is probably unnecessary. Spin your past experience aggressively and start applying to nonprofits. (You "took time off from the working world in order to sharpen your focus on what matters most to you," which will be whatever this particular group does.) It's OK if you pick a bad one to start with; most of them are shit-shows, and lots of them still accomplish good things. Nonprofits are a bloodbath when it comes to actually being an employee--they know that part of the compensation is the sense of living ethically and they will use your altruism against you--so keep your resume updated and be prepared to bail if grant funding doesn't come through, but most areas have food banks and pet shelters and human shelters and jails and medical clinics and hospitals (for every doctor who works at the local hospital there are at least 10 support staff by the numbers, and they are utterly critical and always under-staffed). Sometimes if you start by volunteering somewhere, once they realize you're dependable, you can get a job there. I am zero percent kidding about working for a hospital, clinic, or jail, by the way. Those are places I know well, and there are always civilian jobs available. You want to make a patient's day better? Be the front desk, front line staff who use the right pronouns and cheer them up.

I think it's completely reasonable to have procedural questions about how all of this works, and I am grateful to you for giving me a chance to talk about it a bit. Please feel free to ask any follow-up questions. And for reference, when I was just starting out in research at a time when the market for research-trained people frankly sucked, I applied well over 300 times and got well over 300 rejections (I was counting) before I ended up with a job that I loved (even though it was hellishly stressful and I made just barely more than minimum wage for working well over my alleged, salaried "hours") and felt like I was making a positive difference for the world with. And from there, I kept making changes as I realized what I wanted and needed. Just keep doing it. You don't have to feel good about every step, you don't have to know what you're doing, just keep putting one foot in front of the other as you try to figure out what will make you happy. Because nothing else is a good proxy for happiness, and happiness, for a whole lot of humans, means finding something meaningful to do in life. Helping others. Be okay with changing, be okay with sacrificing who you are right now for the sake of who you can become. You've survived four decades on this bizarre and cruel planet, and you have inherent, intrinsic worth as a human being. You deserve your own kindness.

[right-path-to-follow]

How To Be A Better Person Pt. 1 Being Self-Centered

First, you need to accept that you're NOT a good person. You're NOT a good person. No matter how much self-reflection you've done, how hard you've worked on yourself, how many steps you've put in place to actively be better, you're not there. Not yet, at least.

If you constantly tell yourself that you're already a good person, or that what you're working on is the only aspect of yourself that you need to work on, then you're not allowing yourself to truly grow as a person. Telling yourself that you've already met the goal keeps you from seeing where it's really at. You're actively stunting yourself when you claim to be a good person.

Instead of telling yourself that you are a good person, try telling yourself something along the lines of, "I am working every day to be a better person." There is power in the words you tell yourself, so don't use words of finality when thinking about self-growth.

Now that you're on your way to accepting that you're not a good person YET, but merely on your way to being one, you'll be more willing to look at some unappealing traits that you, and everyone else might hold.

The first trait that hinders becoming a better person is self-centeredness. Please, don't mistake this for selfishness, which is a much harsher word often associated with horrible acts of betrayal or harmful greed. Being self-centered is merely being preoccupied with oneself. An example of self-centeredness would be of a woman standing in line at Starbucks for twenty minutes, playing on her phone while she waits. Once she finally gets to the counter, she puts away her phone, and proceeds to take 8 minutes to decide what she wants before making an order. While this isn't inherently bad behavior, and most people wouldn't give the interaction a second thought - this is actually very inconsiderate behavior that might be keeping someone from being the best version of themselves.

If you take five minutes to wait in line at a coffee shop, that's more than enough time to have narrowed down the options of what you might want off the menu. If you're on your phone in line, not only are you wasting your own valuable time by not mentally preparing your order before arriving at the register, you're hindering those who are trying to meet required times at their job. You're hindering those in line who are trying to hurry and have consideration for the people behind them. You're also doing an injustice to those before you, who were prepped so you could make it to the register in a timely manner.

Once you're at the counter, if you're still unsure of what you want, you should politely let those behind you know that you're sorry, and it might take a moment. Most people will be grateful for the heads up.

If you take those tiny steps, or have a similar mindset when approaching any similar action this way, you're on your way to being a much better, less self-centered person.

Another thing to avoid when trying to be a less self-centered person is being late to your self-appointed schedules. Self-appointed schedules are when you tell a relative or friend, "I'll be there at 6 P.M.". Not adhering to your self-appointed schedule would be showing up at 7:13 P.M. because you had to stop and get gas, cash a check at the bank, go through the Starbucks drive- thru, 'quickly' exchange a pair of pants at Target, and stop by an old man's house to get money, even though you claim he isn't your sugar daddy. If you know you have to run these errands before you make it to your destination, you need to be realistic with how long it will take you to arrive, and communicate that honestly.

While not being completely accurate with your time framing might not seem like improper behavior, (either because you have nothing to do after arriving to your destination, or the destination isn't a big deal to you), YOU are not the only person reliant on you being in a timely manner. Your family or friends may have plans after meeting with you, they might have chores or work that needed to be done, and could have been done if you had arrived on time.

When making plans with someone, please practice not being self-centered by reminding yourself that other people have their own schedules that they might need to adhere to. Not adhering to those schedules could cause them immense distress, and you wouldn't want their distress on your conscious, over something you see as 'not a big deal'.

The last example may be controversial to some, but is true none the less. Helping others who have not asked for help is, more often than not, a self-centered action. It's no secret that helping others can make you feel good. It's not so commonly known that the dopamine's released from helping others, filling you with a sense of pride, accomplishment, and 'better'ness, can become addicting. Without ever stopping to question how helping others might be a self-serving action (because, how could helping others be self serving?), you end up inserting yourself into situations that didn't call for your 'help'. Giving un-asked for help could leave the recipient feeling ashamed and embarrassed, for they knew they could handle the situation on their own. It might also leave the recipient hesitant to ask for help when they truly need it. In the end, the right path to being a better person in this situation would be to wait until someone directly asks for help, and then take action.

If you apply these teachings to every aspect of your life, then you will be on the right path to being a better person. It may seem hard to view these and similar actions as inherently negative, but they are. It's best to be mindful of your actions at all times, and assess from an unbiased standpoint if what you're actively doing is satisfactory to just you, or if everyone around you can benefit from choices you make. And THAT'S how you start to be a better person.

[destinyimage]

Activate the Miracle Realm: #1 Reason Most Believers Don’t See Miracles

You will witness more miracles in the next twelve months than you have seen in the past twelve years, and these may not be limited to church settings.

Through the power of God released from your hands, you will witness so many miracles that you might forget to celebrate them all. People will seek you out for prayers, ask you to visit them, call you on the phone, and even wait for you at your house. Once the news of your miracle-working abilities spreads, be prepared for an influx of people seeking your help.

Not the Way It Was Meant to Be

If you turn on any cable news network, you will quickly see many issues, including wars, famine, corruption, poverty, and injustice. It only takes a moment to realize that humanity is grappling with the effects of thousands of years of generational iniquity and infirmity. The next time you see such headlines, say aloud, “This is not how it was meant to be.” In the beginning, God created everything, and it was good. The Hebrew word for good is towb, which means “perfect in functional design and aesthetic beauty” (Strong’s H2896). Everything was towb! But after the fall of man in Genesis 3, everything became fractured in beauty and design. Creation shifted from God’s blessing to a curse, meaning it must survive at all costs.

Interestingly enough, Charles Darwin derived his theory of evolution from this observation, seeing how all created things had to fight for their survival. He believed that if forced to do so, creation would adapt, evolve, and fight to survive against natural conditions and predators, or it would become extinct. Darwin’s initial observation was correct, but it could have been understood more thoroughly through the lens of Genesis 3.

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With the fall and corruption of creation came an inherent expectation of death, and naturally, the fear of it followed. This fear is seen through humanity’s unwise choices. If people deny the existence of God and the idea of divine accountability, their selfishness and survival instinct will lead them into all manner of evil. The Bible refers to this as iniquity, defined as the internal bent within humanity to do wrong. Infirmity refers to both mental and physical weakness.

Your Activation Begins with Honesty

The impact of generational iniquity and infirmity has affected all of us. Although we may want to focus on something other than the disappointing aspects of our lives, that is precisely where our journey to activating miracles must begin. Honesty is essential to gaining true empowerment in the area of the miraculous because sickness and disease affect everyone. People must possess the necessary tools to process their losses.

I want to ask you some questions, and I urge you to take a moment to answer them honestly. You may even want to record your responses in your journal. Suppose you have struggled with healing and miracles and have yet to experience this spiritual gift in your own life. In that case, these questions may provide valuable insight to help you overcome any obstacles hindering your progress. Please answer these questions with brutal honesty. It is a personal reflection between you and the Lord, and He can handle your uncensored brokenness.

How have sickness and disease impacted your life?

In what ways have sickness and disease affected your identity and self-image? Have you adopted any identity statements related to a disease, such as “I am a diabetic” or “I am a cancer survivor”?

How has iniquity (sin) shaped your identity and self-image? Have you adopted any identity statements related to addiction, such as “I am an alcoholic” or “I am a sex addict”?

How has death and loss impacted your life?

How have death and loss impacted your belief in God?

Have you ever believed in healing and been disappointed? If so, how did that disappointment affect your belief in healing?

Have you ever prayed for someone’s resurrection and been disappointed? If so, how did that disappointment affect your belief in God’s character and nature as good and faithful?

How has suicide impacted your life? Did guilt and condemnation affect you?

In what ways are you still wrestling with any of the above factors?

Io the Brokenhearted

If you are currently experiencing a season of painful loss and are struggling to understand where God fits in, take comfort in Psalm 51:17, as translated by Brian Simmons in The Passion Translation: “The fountain of your pleasure is found in the sacrifice of my shattered heart before you. You will not despise my tenderness as I bow down humbly at your feet.”

This verse reveals God’s character and willingness to draw near to brokenhearted people. It’s common to feel lonely, abandoned, and vulnerable during pain, but remember that your pain is not offensive or intimidating to God. He longs to reveal His love and care for you in your brokenness.

When broken, you can either push people away or allow your tenderness to lead you into a vulnerability where you can heal and grow. The enemy will try to exploit your brokenness, but you can protect your soul against judgments by asking the Lord to help you keep your heart soft.

In 2 Corinthians 12:9-10, Paul reminds us that God’s grace is sufficient for us, and His power is made perfect in our weakness. We don’t need to have everything together when we come to Him. Our honesty about what we lack creates a supernatural magnet for His power.

To the brokenhearted, I encourage you to run to God with your open and broken heart. He promises that He will never reject or despise you for your brokenness. Remember that God’s love for you is everlasting, and He promises to be with you in your pain.

If you’re in a season of pain and loss, pray with me:

Heavenly Father, I come before You now, approaching You with boldness, humility, and a broken heart. I need You now more than ever. I need the kind of love and affection that can only come from a true and perfect Father. By faith, I declare Your powerful, tangible, and unwavering presence. I know I am not alone, and You are always near me. I love You now and always. Amen.

The Number-One Reason Why Most Believers Do Not See Miracles

Usually, when equipping people to walk in miracles, we build their faith by recalling numerous examples of healing. The idea is to create such a compelling case with powerful testimonies that the spirit of doubt will have no choice but to shrivel up and die.

However, doubt is only sometimes the root cause of why most people don’t walk in miracles. While doubt is undoubtedly an issue, it’s not necessarily the underlying problem. That’s why we began the chapter the way we did. We need to address the effects and subconscious theology framed by lingering disappointment.

Imagine breaking your arm and not seeking medical attention to have the bone set and secured. The outcome will be that the bone will not heal correctly and the arm will eventually become permanently disfigured. Although the arm may heal, it won’t heal as intended. It will lose its functionality and won’t be able to perform its original purpose.

The same principle applies when we try to achieve emotional healing without the truth. We may move on from our past, but we will lose our supernatural ability to function in alignment with God’s word. Instead, when faced with injustice, sin, sickness, or disease, we will position ourselves to avoid getting hurt again. We will adjust our theology in a way that allows us to merely survive.

Disappointment is often the root cause of why most believers don’t experience miracles. When your soul isn’t aligned with the truth of God’s word, your mind, will, and emotions will heal distortedly, preventing you from functioning supernaturally.

The good news is that if you can humbly and honestly confront the disappointment and acknowledge how it has affected your faith, God can readily provide you with the grace and power to overcome it. Whether you were let down by a lack of healing or experienced loss due to a broken relationship, missed opportunity, or unfulfilled expectations, the enemy will always try to use disappointment to overwhelm you with feelings of discouragement, hurt, and uncertainty about the future.

Once you recognize that these emotions are just feelings and not rooted in truth, it’s as though God turns on the light switch. We can shift these emotions by making light of them. My goal is to assist you in minimizing the impact of disappointment, so you can be strengthened by God’s grace to reclaim your authority.

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[cosmogyros]

It's kind of ridiculous that people are scolded for staring at their phones and told to "look up and interact with the world" although they might be using the phone to interact with anyone, anywhere in the world – and meanwhile I, scribbling away navel-gazingly in my notebook and not paying attention to anything but the inside of my own head, somehow get a free pass.

[authenticcadence18]

“Ice Cream and Dances Pt. 2: Electric Boogaloo” Ch. 2

…

HELLO I AM POSTING A FIC UPDATE!!!!!!!! :DD

(Also a disclaimer! This fic uses the phrase “more than friends” a lot, and I wrote the first chapter before I realized that phrase can imply that friendships are lesser than romantic relationships. I want to make it clear that I do not see romantic relationships as inherently more valuable than friendships. Friendship is equally as important!!!! In the context of Phineas and Isabella, starting a romantic relationship would literally be them becoming “more than friends” because they would then be romantic partners AND friends. So, when I use that phrase in this fic moving forward, this is the meaning I’m choosing to interpret it as!)

…

“Ice Cream and Dances” by FrsdGirl

AO3

Previous Chapter

…

Isabella did her best to focus on inhaling and exhaling as Phineas led her back onto the dance floor.

“THIS IS A FRIEND THING.”

Once they found an empty spot, Phineas let go of Isabella’s hand and turned to face her, eyes wide and face flushed and GOODNESS HE LOOKED CUTE—

“HYPOTHETICAL. PLATONIC.”

Somehow, Isabella’s hands found their way to Phineas’s shoulders, though she wasn’t consciously aware of it until she felt him gently place his hands on her waist and oh goodness, friend thing or not, Phineas still wanted to dance with her and be close to her even though they’d already danced earlier aND—

“NO. STOP IT. KEEP IT TOGETHER, GARCIA-SHAPIRO.”

For about half a minute, they swayed platonically (or, well, somewhat platonically), neither saying a word.

Isabella just kept on focusing on breathing, on making sure she didn’t lean too close to Phineas, on keeping the desire to admit she’d actually love to be here with him on a real date at bay.

(She couldn’t have known Phineas was focusing on very similar things.)

Sure, she’d been nervous when they danced like this earlier. But those nerves were nothing compared to the nerves she was experiencing now because NOW, she had much more to worry about.

This was still strictly a friend thing, but it was also now a hypothetical more-than-friends-who-were-on-a-date thing. Except it WASN’T actually hypothetical in Isabella’s case, and she couldn’t help but hope that it might be more than hypothetical for Phineas as well but NO, she couldn’t give in to that hope, that was dangerous, so she needed to maintain a good balance between honesty and nonchalance about all this but that was difficult to do when he was so close and holding her and good grief , why’d she ever taken Buford up on his dare, and—

“Isabella? Are you okay?”

Isabella started and blinked, clearing her head of myriad worries with a shake to find Phineas staring at her with concern in his eyes.

“You kinda spaced out there for a second…” he continued. “And you looked a little worried. Is something wrong? Would you rather do something else?”

“NO!!!!!” Isabella shot back. A few nearby couples darted their heads in their direction, and she winced (the LAST thing she wanted to do was draw more attention to her and Phineas after their “grand entrance”).

“I...I just mean… I’m fine. Really.” She did her best to muster a smile for Phineas’s sake. “Just got lost in thought for a bit, you know?”

Phineas grinned, seemingly relieved to know that she was okay (though that could’ve just been Isabella reading into things). “Been there, done that!” he said.

Isabella chuckled a little, the image of Phineas hunched over his phone flickering in her memory. “I bet! You looked pretty lost in thought while Buford and I were dancing earlier. Who were you texting? Or were you testing out a new app?”

She felt a little more at ease now that she was talking with Phineas (as opposed to drowning in her own thoughts.)

“Huh??” Phineas blinked and bit his lip, shoulders briefly tensing up beneath Isabella’s hands. “...UH, I was just...texting Candace!”

“Really? It must have been an intense conversation, you looked so focused. Did she ask you for advice on a case assignment or something?”

“Oh, no, it wasn’t that… I just….uh” Phineas stared at her for a second and then up at the sky before continuing, “...I talk with her a lot these days. She’s got good advice.”

Isabella smiled and nodded in agreement in response.

(Perhaps she was a little curious to know what exactly Phineas had been discussing with Candace. But she knew he’d tell her if he wanted to, and she didn’t want to press him in case he didn’t.)

In the meantime, she could change the subject.

“So...have you been brainstorming any new projects lately?” she asked. “Other than the Stargazer 3000 of course, though if you want to talk about that I’m all ears!”

Phineas’s eyes practically ignited with excitement, making something flutter and glow in Isabella’s chest.

“Yeah!!!” he exclaimed. “Yesterday Ferb and I started experimenting with levitating carpets, like we did when we were kids! We want to see if we can replicate the effects over a smaller surface. But the technology isn’t quite ready yet…..”

…

“And THAT’S how we plan to modify our pre-existing anti-gravity quantum state lift disk technology to function effectively over a smaller surface area!! We’re planning on finishing up a prototype tomorrow and using it for a project.”

“Cool!! Can I come over and help out?”

“Of course! You never have to ask to come over, Isabella. I’ll—er, we’ll always be glad to have you around.”

“Thanks!”

Sometimes, it was easy to take living across the street from Phineas for granted. Because of that, Isabella was used to his boundless creativity and ideas, used to his uncanny ability to make the impossible possible...but she never wanted to lose sight of how extraordinary just being able to be used to those things was.

Moments like this reminded her that Phineas was brilliant .

And handsome.

….brilliantly handsome.

She cracked a smile at that last thought.

Phineas, fortunately, didn’t ask why she was smiling. He just smiled back...and then tilted his head, his expression morphing from fond to thoughtful.

“.....I just realized something,” he said. “We danced earlier.”

Isabella nodded, unsure where he was going with this.

“I guess, I just realized…. This—you know, us , dancing together—it doesn’t feel much different from how it felt before, when we were dancing but like...strictly as friends. ….uH! Not that we aren’t dancing strictly as friends right now! But...the hypothetical more-than-friends thing you were wondering about...you’d think it would make things feel more different….but if it’s us, it doesn’t. Not really.”

A blush sprawled across Isabella’s face. She’d been so wrapped up in listening to Phineas’s ideas, she’d almost forgotten about the hypothetical more-than-friends thing.

But Phineas apparently hadn’t forgotten.

“Uh—is that still a thing we’re doing?” he asked. “Pretending this is, like…a date? Or thinking about what it would be like if it were? Because I thought we were, but maybe I misunderstood, and if so that’s my bad—”

“No, you didn’t misunderstand!!!” Isabella replied quickly. “And, we can keep pretending this is a date. If you want.”

Phineas exhaled with a smile. “Cool!”

“Yup! Cool!” Isabella agreed.

Whew.

“And, you’re right,” she continued. “It doesn’t feel much different from how it did before...but it feels right. Talking with you feels better than just dancing in silence and staring at each other. I guess other couples might do that, but not us.”

“Yeah!!” Phineas let out a gentle chuckle. “I guess this means, if we were a couple, we wouldn’t act much differently from how we do now.”

“That’s what happens when you fall for your best friend, huh?” Isabella gave Phineas a knowing grin (she was basically a world-renowned expert on this subject). “Since there’s already a great foundation of friendship in place, romantic feelings can just develop naturally from what’s already there.”

….wait a second.

“….uH!!!” she choked, jerking back and clutching her hands to her chest on instinct. “Not that I’d know that personally!! Just, uh! In movies and stuff! That’s how it always goes. Yup. And we’re best friends, so! In this hypothetical scenario, we’d be best friends who fell for each other. Hypothetically.”

“Okaaayyyy time to divert the subject, Garcia-Shapiro.”

“People in movies have it easy….” she continued, trying her best to sound light and casual. “They meet and then, less than two hours later, BOOM! They’re together, true love for life!! Or...at least, they’re together until a sequel comes out and they’ve broken up offscreen just to get back together again….”

(The older Isabella got, the less patience she had for subpar romance movies and subplots.)

“Yeah….it’s a lot harder in real life...” Phineas agreed quietly. “Though, we’d be remiss if we didn’t talk about how it is hard for couples in TV shows. Like, Candace used to watch this show where the two main characters were in love but they didn’t realize it, and they kept on ALMOST confessing or getting together but didn’t actually get together until the very end. She’d get so frustrated with them, called them the ‘token will they/won’t they couple.’ There were a few steady side-couples though, Candace always used to say they made watching the show a little easier.”

He leaned in, a conspiratorial twinkle in his eye, and whispered, “She always used to compare herself and Jeremy to the main couple, but between you and me, the two of them are definitely more the ‘steady side-couple’ type.”

Isabella snickered. “ Oh yeah. They had it easy! They liked each other from the beginning, went on dates, started officially dating and then just...stayed that way.”

“If only it were always that simple….” Phineas sighed.

“If Candace and Jeremy are a steady side couple, what would that make us?” Isabella asked.

She flinched and quickly added, “uH!!! In a hypothetical sense!!!!”

Phineas blinked. “UM!!! That’s a great question!!!”

...was he blushing? Or was it a trick of the light?

“I guess, uh….we’d be the token ‘will they/won’t they’ couple?”

he rubbed the back of his neck and chucked slightly. “I mean, uh...in your hypothetical scenario, I’m not sure if we’d already be together or if this would be our first time doing something together. Together -together, I mean. On a date, you know. But, uh…….. Okay, let’s say I had feelings for you. Hypothetically. I’d have no reason to believe you returned those feelings.”

Isabella bit her lip and resisted the urge to roll her eyes into the nearest adjacent galaxy.

That was Phineas, alright. Oblivious as always.

“...BUT!!” he continued, “if you returned them without knowing about MY feelings, that would be a classic ‘will they/won’t they’ scenario. At least, according to Candace, anyway….yup….”

He suddenly seemed quite interested in staring at the grass beneath their feet.

Isabella followed his gaze and studied the ground for a bit, both to avoid pondering their hypothetical couple status any longer AND because, if Phineas was staring at the grass, it likely meant something interesting was happening down there.

...except nothing interesting was happening.

“.....okay, there’s no way the grass is interesting enough to warrant us staring at it for this long,” she mused. “You didn’t get hit with a dull and boring ray, did you?”

(She was mostly joking, but one could never be too careful in Danville.)

Phineas glanced back up at her and just stared at a moment before cracking a smile.

“Funny you should mention that….i was JUST thinking about the color beige….”

A moment passed.

And then he started to giggle. Quietly at first…and then not so quietly. His amusement was contagious, and soon Isabella was caught up in it too, the two of them grinning and laughing and as carefree as could be, all the awkwardness momentarily gone.

(The ruckus garnered some more stares, as the music playing was still pretty soft….but Isabella didn’t really care about that anymore. Having fun with Phineas was way more important than worrying about what others thought.)

Gradually, their laughter died down, with Phineas giving one final giggle and wiping a tear from his cheek before placing his hand back on Isabella’s waist, eyes shining with mirth.

Isabella gazed at him with a beaming smile.

There was just something about Phineas’s laughter, something about the way he smiled so brightly and expressed such genuine positivity so effortlessly, that had fascinated her and made her head spin since they were kids....and right now, it was hard to feel scared of expressing her true feelings for him.

(In other words, she was sooo in love with him right now.)

“You know….” she whispered with a flirtatious grin, “...if WE were dating—uh, on a date, within the parameters of the hypothetical more-than-friends thing!!!”

Good save, Garcia-Shapiro.

“...I’d have told you how handsome you look by now.”

“Huh?” Phineas blinked and glanced down at his outfit. “...Oh! Thanks! ...but, I’m not really dressed for a date….I wear this shirt at least once a week, and I haven't brushed my hair since this morning.”

“Aw, Phineas, you ALWAYS look handsome,” Isabella assured him. “No matter what. I mean, between the red hair and all your freckles and your acute nose and your SMILE, I’m not sure how anyone could NOT see how handsome you are…. And it’s not just your looks either, it’s your laugh and the way you can light up anyone and anything around you just by being you, it all makes you handsome, and……”

A bit of the happy fog in Isabella’s brain evaporated, allowing her to realize she’d been rambling to Phineas about how handsome he was for the past 20 seconds.

Oops.

“uH!!!! That is! That’s what I would say if this wasn’t a friend thing! But it is! So! Uh. You can just forget I said all that, if you want….”

She winced and clenched her eyes shut. That had been too much, she’d totally taken things too far, and now Phineas would probably be super weirded out...

Except.

One glance at Phineas revealed he wasn’t weirded out at all. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes soft, mouth slightly agape with what might have been astonishment.

He looked flustered, but in a good way.

And then...he smiled again. He smiled at her.

And it was a warm smile, a gentle smile, perhaps the most adoration-filled smile Isabella had ever seen and it was directed at her and doing funny things to her heart.

“Well….” he whispered softly, “...if this weren’t a friend thing, I’d have already told you you look as beautiful as ever…. But, since this is a friend thing and I haven’t told you yet….I’ll just tell you now. Isabella, you look as beautiful as ever.”

He grinned before continuing on in a manner similar to how Isabella had spoken a bit ago.

“I mean, between your eyes, and your hair, and the way your entire face seems to light up when you smile, and your adorable laughter, and the way you’re brave enough to say whatever’s on your mind…..I don’t think anyone else is as beautiful as you, Isabella. In every sense of the word.”

Isabella’s heart was going to pound right out of her chest. Or perhaps her knees would give out and she’d collapse right here, sprawled across the grass, running Phineas’s words and tender looks over and over again in her head for the foreseeable future.

It wouldn’t be a bad way to spend the rest of the evening.

But Phineas wasn’t done yet. He drew a hand back and then reached out for Isabella’s face...only to flinch and freeze in place.

“...uH!!” he breathed, hand still suspended in mid-air. “....if this were a date, I think I’d unconsciously reach out to brush a lock of hair behind your ear after saying all those things, just to see you better! ...would you be alright with that?”

Isabella didn’t trust herself to piece a coherent sentence together at the moment, but she knew she’d definitely be alright with that, so she nodded her head.

Phineas inhaled and tentatively reached out until his fingers were gracing Isabella’s cheek and then ever-so-gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

And once again, Isabella did her best to focus on inhaling and exhaling, on staying present in the moment…but this time, she wasn’t constantly reminding herself this was just pretend.

Because….what if it wasn’t?

Phineas was one of the most authentic people Isabella knew. Authentic to a fault, almost.

And that trademark authenticity, which she’d come to recognize in all of his inventions and actions and words in the years they’d been friends…..she recognized it now. In the hand cradling her face and the eyes gazing at her softly and the tender smile that hovered a mere foot or two from her own.

…perhaps Phineas had tried to ask her here on a date earlier.

Perhaps Buford had been right.

…

Thanks for reading!! And thanks as always to the lovely FrsdGirl for inspiring this fic and allowing me to write it and also for being just, the best ever, I adore you my friend🥺💕.

This isn’t the end btw, I know how this is gonna end, just haven’t written it properly yet!

[virtchandmoir]

We Spoke To Olympic Champion Tessa Virtue About Her Career Change & Here’s What She Told Us

"I dream of launching my own business, for sure!"

June 21, 2021

The pandemic wasn't something anyone had anticipated happening, and it's impacted every aspect of people's lives, from how they live to the way they work, and even what it looks like to interact with friends and family.

Think about the way that your life has changed over the last year. Maybe you're working from home and have stopped going for weekly brunch with your pals. Perhaps catching up with your grandparents changed from in-person visits to phone calls. You might be using your laptop more than ever before to stay entertained, keep in touch or continue your education.

The pandemic wasn't something anyone had anticipated happening, and it's impacted every aspect of people's lives, from how they live to the way they work, and even what it looks like to interact with friends and family.

Think about the way that your life has changed over the last year. Maybe you're working from home and have stopped going for weekly brunch with your pals. Perhaps catching up with your grandparents changed from in-person visits to phone calls. You might be using your laptop more than ever before to stay entertained, keep in touch or continue your education.

No doubt, having technology within easy reach has been particularly helpful for people adapting to this new way of life.

From catching up with loved ones over video calls when it wasn't safe to do so physically, to entire companies meeting virtually from every corner of the world, you could say that technology made getting through this pandemic possible.

Someone who's no stranger to transformation is Olympic and World Ice Dance Champion Tessa Virtue. Following her retirement from ice dancing, Virtue has moved on to the next chapter of her career. She's taking her competitive nature and winning attitude to the business world, pursuing her Executive MBA at Queen's University and starting a new job at one of Canada's leading consulting firms.

The pandemic wasn't something anyone had anticipated happening, and it's impacted every aspect of people's lives, from how they live to the way they work, and even what it looks like to interact with friends and family.

Think about the way that your life has changed over the last year. Maybe you're working from home and have stopped going for weekly brunch with your pals. Perhaps catching up with your grandparents changed from in-person visits to phone calls. You might be using your laptop more than ever before to stay entertained, keep in touch or continue your education.

No doubt, having technology within easy reach has been particularly helpful for people adapting to this new way of life.

From catching up with loved ones over video calls when it wasn't safe to do so physically, to entire companies meeting virtually from every corner of the world, you could say that technology made getting through this pandemic possible.

Someone who's no stranger to transformation is Olympic and World Ice Dance Champion Tessa Virtue. Following her retirement from ice dancing, Virtue has moved on to the next chapter of her career. She's taking her competitive nature and winning attitude to the business world, pursuing her Executive MBA at Queen's University and starting a new job at one of Canada's leading consulting firms.

Virtue is adapting to this way of life and is doing her learning virtually, using products from Microsoft to help navigate this new and exciting path. With products like Microsoft 365, Surface Laptop Go, and Surface Duo, Microsoft has helped Virtue transition from the ice to the office seamlessly.

These products have also helped to make flexible work environments possible, as Virtue has seen firsthand in her transition to the workplace and classroom while working and learning from home.

In this interview with Narcity, Virtue discusses the next chapter of her career and the personal challenges that come with it, how COVID-19 has impacted her approach to her education and career, and how technology has helped her with that transition.

Questions and responses have been edited for clarity.

Let's start off by speaking about something that's affecting us all right now: the pandemic. These are challenging times. What's it been like for you? “What a strange and scary time it's been for everyone! Relatively speaking, I have been incredibly fortunate in that those closest to me have remained safe and healthy. And every day I am grateful to have a sense of purpose with both work and school!

“Grappling with such widespread uncertainty has meant turning inward for meaningful self-reflection and I'm emboldened by the outcome of that self-work. Thank you for asking!"

You announced your retirement from professional skating after more than two decades (and five Olympic medals) on the ice with partner Scott Moir. That must have been a huge transition. Can you tell our readers a little bit about your decision to retire from competitive ice dancing and take on new challenges? "I am completely obsessed with improving and learning! I knew it would be pertinent for me, once leaving sport, to set short-term, tangible goals that required the adoption of new skills and a sense of pressure (what can I say, I prefer to live in the "uncomfortable" to challenge myself!).

"Having worked on building my brand in the business realm 10+ years, I wanted to get a deeper understanding of the corporate landscape. Not to mention, after being defined by a job that was so physical in nature, part of me wants to prove my worth academically, too!

"My school experience has been abnormal from about grade four or five on, given the demands of training. Prioritizing education now feels like such a privilege!"

You've taken on the fashion and beauty industry with several collaborations. What drew you to take on the world of business and get an MBA? "I dream of launching my own business, for sure! But it's not something I take lightly and, if I pursue an entrepreneurial path, I want to do it right. I'm fortunate now to have been hired by a top consulting firm, where I can practically apply the lessons I'm learning in school and gain experience in various departments.

"By exposing myself to new and different roles, the goal is that I will then be able to develop a clear path forward. Even as I say that sentence, I get excited about future possibilities!"

What does your MBA journey look like right now? What do you hope to do after graduation? Will you launch your own business? "I dream of launching my own business, for sure! But it's not something I take lightly and, if I pursue an entrepreneurial path, I want to do it right. I'm fortunate now to have been hired by a top consulting firm, where I can practically apply the lessons I'm learning in school and gain experience in various departments.

"By exposing myself to new and different roles, the goal is that I will then be able to develop a clear path forward. Even as I say that sentence, I get excited about future possibilities!"

Would you say that the drive that you find as an Olympian is ever-present in your life? What skills as an athlete do you find are proving transferable in the business world? "It is amazing to me just how applicable the inherent skill set of an elite athlete is to the business realm (or in any life situation, really!). Goal setting, teamwork, resilience, embracing failure, managing pressure, and so much more!

"The difference is that athletes have the luxury of time to hone their craft — usually a very specific, repetitive task — mastering a particular technique or preparing to peak at one specific moment is paramount to success.

"Most executives, on the other hand, are expected perform at a high-level all the time, in all situations! One thing I'm observing most these days is that athletes crave feedback in a unique way that is not always reflected in corporate structures. I think remaining open to constructive critique — letting go of our egos — is one of the most valuable gifts!"

Transitioning from constantly being on the road and being a professional athlete to going back to school must have come with a steep learning curve. How do your Microsoft products help you feel competent and confident enough to take it on? "Training my brain to focus for long periods of time was one of the most difficult things, as was finding confidence! With the help of Microsoft Surface, I felt equipped to manage the heavy workload knowing my work, assignments, and correspondence were seamless, intuitive, and organized.

"The devices allow me to unlock my academic and professional potential by allowing me to optimize performance and productivity. And not only that, but they're also beautiful!!! As a skater, I desired excellence and valued innovation. The same is true now and that is reflected in my technology choices."

Knowing firsthand the challenges that can come from a career pivot, do you have anything you want to say to Narcity readers out there looking to make a change in their own lives? "Go for it! And if it is daunting and frightening, well, that probably means it's worthwhile! The magical meeting point of hard work and opportunity is where the joy lies, but it is completely unattainable if you don't take the risk."

As Virtue knows, and as we all have found out over the last year, the pandemic changed how we live our lives. With flexible work and learning here to stay, Microsoft's suite of products like Microsoft 365, Surface Laptop Go, and Surface Duo can help make navigating new careers and new challenges easier than ever. And until June 30, you can get $200 off the Surface Laptop Go - devices purchased through Microsoft Store on microsoft.com come with the Microsoft Store Promise with free 2-3 day shipping, an extended return policy, low price promise and expert help when you need it!

To learn more about Microsoft's products and how Tessa Virtue is using Surface to accelerate her career goals, visit the Microsoft website. To keep up with all the latest news, follow them on Instagram and Facebook.

—Narcity

[justforbooks]

Perhaps the single most lucid, succinct, and profoundly terrifying analysis of social media ever created for mass consumption, Jeff Orlowski’s “The Social Dilemma” does for Facebook what his previous documentaries “Chasing Ice” and “Chasing Coral” did for climate change (read: bring compelling new insight to a familiar topic while also scaring the absolute shit out of you). And while the film covers — and somehow manages to contain — a staggering breadth of topics and ramifications, one little sentence is all it takes to lay out the means and ends of the crisis at hand: Russia didn’t hack Facebook, Russia used Facebook.

That may not be a mind-blowing idea for anyone who’s been raised on the internet, but it would be wrong to think that Orlowski’s film is only speaking to the back of the class. While “The Social Dilemma” is relevant to every person on the planet, and should be legible enough to even the most technologically oblivious types (the Amish, the U.S. Senate, and so forth), its target demographic is very online types who think they understand the information age too well to be taken advantage of. That’s zoomers, millennials, and screen junkies of any stripe who wouldn’t have the faintest interest in a finger-wagging documentary about how they should spend more time outside.

Taking a top-down, inside out approach to the basic nature of the social media experiment, Orlowski’s film doesn’t waste any time in proving its bonafides (and using them to strike fear into your heart). It begins with an ominous nugget of wisdom from Sophocles, who would have crushed it on Twitter: “Nothing vast enters the life of mortals without a curse.” From there, Orlowski introduces viewers to some of the most worried-looking white people you’re likely to find these days: The designers, engineers, and executives who invented social media, and then quit when they began to understand the existential threat it posed to all civilization. The guy who invented the “like” button. An ex-department head at Instagram. Even one of the techies responsible for Gmail and Google Drive. As annoying as it can be when someone tells you to quit Facebook, it’s hard to ignore someone who’s actually quit Facebook.

Orlowski’s star interviewee, however, is a guy who’s often referred to as “Silicon Valley’s conscience.” His name is Tristan Harris, he’s the co-founder of the Center for Humane Technology, and his measured alarmism serves as a worried voice of reason throughout the film as “The Social Dilemma” strives to bridge the gap between abstract threats and direct consequences. The most overarching of those macro concerns is a free-to-use business model that coerces people into betraying their own value. As the saying goes (and is quoted here): “If you’re not paying for the product, you are the product.”

With the help of articulate testimony, illuminating visual aids, and a well-crafted thesis that elegantly articulates the relationship between persuasive technology and human behavior, Orlowski fortifies the familiar argument that addiction isn’t a side effect of social media, but rather the industry’s business model. Our data is used as a currency for these companies, but our time is a far more precious commodity — how much of our lives can they get us to forfeit over to them?

The more time we spend on social media, the more valuable our human futures become; the more valuable our human futures become, the more that advertisers are willing to pay for them. And how does a company like Facebook or YouTube (which is technically Google) convince us to spend more time on their platforms? They change our fundamental perception of reality, as The Algorithm is designed to populate things into our feeds and queues that will excite/agitate us towards engagement, pull us deeper into our respective rabbit holes, and silo us all into our separate realities. It’s surveillance capitalism run amok, as well as a peerlessly effective recipe for extremism.

Orlowski, recognizing that diagnosing the problem on such a profound scale is enough to make even the most rational of people sound like they’re suffering from paranoid schizophrenia, devises a bold and semi-successful way of making these enormous concepts feel more life-sized. Every so often, Orlowski cuts away to the scripted tale of an average, middle-class American family in order to more practically illustrate the effect that social media has on our lives. And by “our lives,” this critic means to stress that “The Social Dilemma” is more interested in Facebook’s impact on the average teenager than it is in — say — Facebook’s impact on the genocidal violence against Muslim Rohyingas in Myanmar. But Orlowski knows his audience.

“Booksmart” actor Skyler Gisondo plays a high school kid named Ben who’s addicted to his phone, “Moonrise Kingdom” breakout Kara Hayward is his concerned older sister, and — in a touch of absolute genius — “Mad Men” star Vincent Kartheiser plays several human manifestations of The Algorithm itself, selling Ben reasons to stay on his phone like some kind of dystopian Pete Campbell. These sequences first arrive with the queasy awkwardness of an after school special, and seem determined to make teenagers roll their eyeballs right out of their heads. But if these dramatizations can be more than a bit too on the nose, they’re redeemed by an emergent — and very amusing — self-awareness that reflects our own; a certain level of irony is required to get through to people who regularly tweet about how much they hate Twitter (aka “this website” aka “this hellsite”).

The least effective of these moments can make it feel as though “The Social Dilemma” underestimates the persuasiveness of its own arguments, but the most valuable passages help to illustrate one particularly alarming sound byte from elsewhere in the film: “We’re so worried about tech overpowering human strength that we don’t pay attention to tech overpowering human weakness.” It’s helpful to see how social media can inflame our inherent need for approval, and discourage people from taking risks that might alienate the online community. It’s convincing to see The Algorithm alert Ben to his ex-girlfriend’s new relationship so that he’ll spend more time sifting through her photos, and — in a frustratingly reductive way — watch The Algorithm populate Ben’s feed with videos that radicalize him into the fold of a political movement called “The Extreme Center,” a cute touch that nevertheless draws a false equivalency between left and right.

Is “The Social Dilemma” persuasive enough to convince a MAGA zealot to stop binge-watching Ben Shapiro nonsense and buy a subscription to a newspaper? It’s hard to say. But the film will definitely make you more cognizant of your own behavior — not just of how you use the internet, but how the internet uses you. And it will do so in a way that feels less like an intervention than it does a wake-up call; Orlowski and his subjects recognize how the internet has created a simultaneous utopia and dystopia, and they aren’t under any delusions that we’re able to wish it away. Their documentary isn’t instructive so much as directional, and thereby most fascinating for the implications it leaves you to consider on your own time.

How has social media shaped the way we think about (overlapping) things like politics, race, and entertainment? What impact does siloing people into their own realities have on our faith in empathy, objective truth, and some kind of shared understanding? And does the isolated and algorithmically-programmed nature of streaming video make it less of an alternative to the theatrical experience than its antithesis? As human futures become human presents, these questions will only grow more urgent. In the meantime: Quit Facebook, don’t click on Instagram ads, and — for the love of God — make sure that your Twitter feed is set to chronological order instead of “showing you the best tweets first,” because the only hope we have left lies in the difference between what you and The Algorithm consider to be good content.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[fuckyeahasexual]

I don't know how to word this. Someone said that asexuals never do anything for the wider community, and I know I shouldn't let it bother me, but it does. So I wondered if you had evidence to the contrary?

I’ve been thinking about this post for about a day and a half. I answer a lot of posts via my phone because it’s more accessible but I knew this one would have to wait until I had a keyboard and because of that I’ve been able to connect more thoughts about how misguided the person that said is. 

Let’s first take a look about America’s over focus on “being independent”. How that is the most valuable thing you can be in this culture. How it’s inherently impossible. But this focus on “Well what did you do for us?” That question does not value community effort. It does not value effort that is by people that benefit something other than the self. 

And because so many people’s focus is “Well what did you do” we have a  culture of celebrity and one of icons. Were we put people on a pedestal as if they were above, or better, or greater than the rest of us lowly people. 

And at this first point you, but more probably that acephobe, might be thinking ‘what the hell, answer the question. What did aces do for the community? Which again, this is a misunderstanding how community building works. A community is a nebula to swirls around births ideas. An idea makes a footnote, long past it’s first thought. Decades or even centuries after the idea was first had. It doesn’t mean the last person “did it.”

In at least America, there are extremely few people we can look at and say X did Y for the community. Even if you name 20 names. Those were the leaders. Or those were the ones who had the supreme court case that made it to the court. Not the countless others of cases. It ignores and places no value on those who fought, inspired, helped, or did some other duty that aided the whole. While leaders should be remembered, I think it’s very important that we don’t isolate ourselves into thinking “Well we only have [Icon Name Here].” It’s wildly untrue. 

People who say want you to point to an celebrity with a shared label also ignore how English works in regards to labeling. And how labels historically are a overall in the grand scope of history a new invention. 

An while aces directly challenge things like heteronormativity, compulsory sexuality, and rape culture. Each of those systems plays into the patriarchy, and white supremacy. And everything we do fights against those systems, and benefits those harmed by them. We also as individual people also fight in ways that may have nothing to do with asexuality but aim to keep the wider community safe. For example, I have an ace friend who is not an “queer activist” but has sewed and given out I dunno like 50 masks for people during this pandemic for free. Therefore literally enabling life to go on.

Not only do I gotta point out the folly in “what have you done for me?” when it comes to human rights. White supremacy has made a lot of enemies, and it wouldn’t be wrong to say we aren’t free until we are all free because oppression of one kind is aided by another. I also gotta point out the vile implication that someone else’s rights are only worth fighting for because they may aid your specific needs.

And if you believe that being queer, wherever personal label on the wide range of options, is inherently natural, then you cannot deny that aces or trans people or [label here] have always existed and always helped out. If you are looking for aces who helped, look at any human rights movement and see what was being done. I know there’s plenty of recorded history with aces and lesbians on women’s rights issues. But that doesn’t mean ace men weren’t doing things. History as a record is incomplete. If it wasn’t it you’d have to relive it nearly in real time.

I also inherently hate this idea of “What did X group do for Y-over arching group”. I see this a lot from white people who are like fighting racism doesn’t help me. Despite the known history of black communities feeding the poor, or fighting for voting rights, and surely a countless number of things. The “oppressor class” whom ever it may be would rather have you believe that were only out for themselves. Because that way, if you aren’t an oppressor yourself, you don’t trust or value efforts of those who aren’t you either because you believe them useless to “your cause”. It’s not again not only untrue, but I think denies the truth that no one is this American idea of independent. We are all connected. 

We are currently in the information age, and the internet has allowed us to better see our interconnection to each other. And I’m sure you, or maybe the person who asked that, wanted Name-Here, that has a wikipedia page that you can learn more about that like said fuck my own rights, I’m fighting for seemingly unrelated issue. I won’t give you evidence for that, because you don’t need it.

Instead I hope you can see that the question bugged you for a reason, a good reason. But the answer, should be instead the realization that the asker just wanted to make you feel disconnected, not only from the community today, but from that nebulous timeless beauty that is humans working tirelessly, namelessly together for each other. Human history is full of so much cruelty to each other, but I think despite whatever oppressive system there is humans are social beings that like helping each other. And I think that’s fucking hopeful even in the darkest of times. 

[musedblues]

We’ll Be Alright

Summary: The heart wants what the heart wants. Roger seems to live by that motto. You're certain he has more than enough. But he's determined to prove you wrong.

w/c: 12k (oops?)

a/n: Here it is! My LOC Event Fic for the wonderful darling @brianandthemays​ 🌈 This is my first time publishing something for Roger, so I'm a bit anxious, but mostly excited! I sincerely hope you enjoy this lovie 💖 Thanks to  @dtfrogertaylor​ for hosting another fun event! Without further ado...

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Freddie escorted you through the doors of his favorite overpriced coffee shop, a Thursday afternoon tradition. Like always, you followed behind your friend and complained about the things that had gone wrong all week since the last Thursday like this one.

"...And not only did my internship get canceled, but they dropped the whole production. Now it's too late for me to sign up to any other until the fall." You fretted all the way to the back of the place, plopping down in a booth across from Freddie. He was entirely overdressed for the casual occasion, but you'd be worried if he wasn't.

"Well, you think you've got it bad, dear, we're on an actual fucking deadline for once. We have to record in two months and we have no songs, and no place to stay and rehearse for a month. All our neighbors have had enough." Freddie waved his hand and widened his eyes, only trying to relate to you by airing out his own misfortunes.

"You're kidding, right?" You narrowed your eyes as Freddie waited for you to make clear what you thought was already obvious. That's when a barista brought out your usual drinks. The staff had come to expect you and Freddie to twirl in like clockwork and order the same drinks at the same time each week. So eventually, someone started making your orders ahead of time.

"Decaf tea and a piping hot black coffee." A familiar girl placed mismatched cups between yourself and Freddie. Your feather haired friend bowed to the barista who laughed on her spin the other direction.

"Fred!" You snapped his attention back on you, wrapping your fingers around the steaming mug.

"My dad owns that countryside villa in Surrey."  You reminded. "Well, it's more of a done up farmhouse. But, still." The countryside getaway was more quaint than Romanesque, but it was big enough for a band. Freddie's obsidian eyes sparkled, maybe with remembrance, but you couldn't tell past the obvious hope that flooded his gaze.

"Oh, darling. Do you think we could come and stay for a while? We just need a place to write and rehearse before we record. Could you help?"  

"I'll see what I can do. We have a big empty barn where you could set up your instruments to practice."  You shrugged, taking a sip of your tea.

"You'd save my life darling, you'd absolutely be my queen." Freddie fawned.

"Yeah yeah, some friends we are. I've talked about spending summers in Surrey more than anything. Do you even know me?" You dramatically provoked, sticking your lip out for show.

"I know that you always order decaf tea. And that your dad owns a place in Surrey. And that I'd do anything for you if we got to stay."

"You're in luck... I haven't got anything better to do this year!" You laughed, albeit a little somberly. You had always loved wasting away summers in the countryside. But, until recently, you'd finally been an arm's length away from dipping your toes into the metaphorical waters of your dream job. You'd finally felt like the future was at your doorstep, and it was all canceled in the blink of an eye.

///

You followed Freddie home from the coffee shop, at his behest. When the sunset, he and his three best friends were scheduled to put on a show. And according to Freddie, you needed something new and fun to wear. At the foot of his bed, he tossed dresses and tops and scarves over his shoulder, digging in an old chest for something your style. You leaned against his pillows, laughing as your friend argued with himself while matching patterns.

From behind Freddies halfway shut bedroom door, you heard the front lock turn and a bright giggle you didn't recognize echo into the flat.

"Roger's home." Freddie looked up to you, holding out a dress and jacket to imagine how it might fit your form.

"That doesn't sound much like Roger." You laughed, posing in place as Freddie held up another outfit. With a look, he moved to click his bedroom door shut.

"You're right. It sounds like Ivy. Who I'm sure is a fine girl, but is entirely wrong for Roger." Freddie tossed a floral number your way as he shut the lid of the chest decidedly. You let out an "Ah," of understanding moving to change your outfit.

"Is anybody right for Roger?" You chuckled, thinking to the few long evenings you'd spent getting to know Queen's drummer. He was deadly funny, and jarringly good looking. With an overload of talent and style, you recognized Mr. Taylor as one of the most sought after bachelors in the region- using the word bachelor loosely. He always seemed to have a lady on his arm. At least one girl was hot on Rogers trail each time you'd been near him.

"Well, yes." Freddie sang, leafing through his own closet. "He needs someone driven in their own right. Someone willing to deal with all the pressures of Roger being a superstar, because you know darling, we're going to be famous one day. Someone who will be happy for him. Someone he can be just as proud of."

You halfway listened as you shimmied into the outfit your dear friend picked just for you. It fit quite nicely, even with the back still unzipped. Freddie had thrown on a yellow and black striped jacket before he sauntered over your way.

"Someone quite like you, if I'm honest." Freddie seemed to confess as he zipped you into style. He barely got the chance before you spun to face him, holding back a barking laugh.

"You can't be serious." You began, watching Freddie feign innocence. "Freddie. No. You're scheming I can tell!" You pointed as your friend spun out of your way. Where was all this coming from?

"I don't know what you're on about, love." Freddie sighed, grabbing a pair of sunglasses. "I'll leave things between you and Rog to figure out yourselves." He reached for the door with a shrug.

"There isn't anything between us to discuss!" You laughed, in a bit of shock at the prospect of this conversation you hadn't seen coming at all. You'd never had more than a few casual conversations with Roger. Freddie seemed to drop it, spinning into the main room to get the show on the road.

Roger was there, lounging with a pretty little hippie lady decked out in lace. Freddie called for the pair to get up and get going- it was time to head toward soundcheck.

"Rog, before we leave, pay some respect to the lovely y/n. She's going to save our lives this summer!" Freddie fawned, ignoring your previous discussion, trying to start a fire that you never realized had the potential to burn.

As Roger led his date out the door, he stalled to greet you for the night.

"Nice dress, love." Roger's familiar rasp was gentle past his grossly over-rehearsed line. His saucer eyes raked up your figure in a way you'd seen him do to others, but never to you, until now.

"Thank Freddie." You spoke through your teeth, turning away from Roger to hide your blush and shoot your glare to the frontman who was already biting back an "I told you so."

///

You could count the evenings you'd spent with Queen on a couple of hands. But the days you spent with Freddie were in the hundreds by now. He was your closest friend, someone you meditated with, cried with. Someone who might have known you better than you knew yourself. And on occasion, some of Fred's bandmates would join in on the fun.

John had become accustomed to accompanying you and Fred on Thursdays for coffee and tea. You liked John's ideas and the way was keen to listen to you and Freddie banter more than he joined in to do the same. When John spoke, it was decidedly. A wit filled joke, or a valuable point, John hardly uttered any passing thought; unless, of course, he was absolutely hammered.

Brian would sometimes join you and Freddie before shows for dinner, or on rainy Sunday afternoons to play Scrabble and dream of the future. You admired the things that mattered to Brian and how fiercely he protected the value of the things he spoke of, big and small.

Then there was Roger. He was always around, in the other room, at the back of the stage, at the end of the night. But he usually kept company of his own. And the times he joined in for Scrabble or lunch, he was usually too preoccupied with whoever he brought along. But there were odd exceptions- when Freddie had fallen asleep and Rogers dates would leave for the evening- when you'd share a drink in the kitchen and traded updates on your week.

Times like then, you noticed Roger's gaze was hypnotic. You didn't think it was a power he used manically. You figured it was a trait that came naturally, the inherent draw of his piercing blue eyes. It must have been what made all the girls line up like ducklings and follow Roger around for their turn at wooing him. He was always kind to them, and a few times you wondered if he might have fallen in love. But then another would follow the last and you decided that Roger must have been happiest dating around, meeting all kinds of people with all kinds of stories to share. Such was the way of a man who dreamed of touring the world, singing about it, and the lot.

///

"Do you own any wellies?" You asked, twirling your mustard yellow phone cord around your index, studying your grossly overpacked suitcase.

Freddie's response of laughter was rich and crackly through the other line.

"I'm just saying... that you're bound to muck up those ballet flats of yours when you and the boys come to stay in Surrey in a week."

"You serious? We can come and stay? Oh, how shall I ever repay you?" Freddie shrieked into your ear. You held the receiver back with a grin as you tossed a couple of sweaters on the floor in hopes your suitcase would better zip closed. Freddie promised you he was on his knees, shouting thanks into the phone. You promised you'd see him soon, gave him the last of the info he needed, and managed to seal your bag shut.

///

You swore you could smell the freshness in the air, see the vibrant hue of the trees through clearer eyes. The house in Surrey your father called a villa, was the place you spent most summers.

Until the last few summers in a row, the summer palace was a place your extended family came to stay for a month or two. You'd all get together and kick around the countryside for a while, forgetting petty worries and putting off all the responsibilities you could manage. You hadn't missed a summer yet, but each one became quieter, less action-packed. Last year it was only yourself and your parents who spent a while enjoying the quiet getaway.

But you always had Mona. The old, cheery, pale-haired woman hired to come around on the weekends to help keep order about the place. You always insisted she stay and enjoy a day or two of peace when her work was done. Mona always accepted the offer, much to your delight. When there was nothing left for her to do, she gave in to your pleas to help bake ridiculously complicated recipes or to simply keep you company in the quiet for a while. You and Mona would lose yourselves in conversation while cooking meals and enjoying days where you did nothing but track the rise and fall of the sun in the sky.

Then there was Otto. He was your only neighbor for miles, right across the road, behind his own mess of trees. Otto was only a few years older than you, and when his parents left the property, he gladly took it over with big plans of his own. After Otto had landscaped his home to his heart's content, your father hired him to come and spruce up your family's property. Even if that hadn't ever happened, you'd already made a habit of inviting Otto over for dinners and game nights. You imaged going it alone in the depths of the country had to be lonely so many months in a row.

Last summer, Otto made miraculous headway on your property's garden. He planted new trees, fixed up your old windows, and even built a chicken coop, something that provided a bit of entertainment for you, but became your neighbor's pride and joy.

He'd stop over every day, even if it was just to check on the chickens. And following close in  Otto's stride from across the road, was his pet retriever, Pepper. Otto never minded when you stole his pet for walks through the trails you'd worn between trees in the distant forest, over the years.

In fact, the golden pup was always the first one to greet you every summer. The tradition held fast even now, as you pulled into the gravel drive. You spotted her yellow form zooming from out of nowhere at all, barking to greet you.

"Hi Pepper!" You chimed after collecting your luggage. You dropped to your knees at the edge of the drive as the dog bound your way. She was nearly eight years old, or was it nine, now? Pepper pranced in time with you as you made your way to the countryside home for another year in a row.

"Your dog missed you especially, this year." Otto's familiar accent drifted from the porch, where he appeared to stand painting the entry doorway. He dropped his brush and turned to watch you ease up the steps, with a smile.

"I missed her too." You smiled, rolling your eyes at the decade-old joke. The pup belonged to Otto but she was always hot on your heels, usually leaving her owner far behind whenever you were near.

"Ah yes, she has been sneaking in and sleeping on your bed. Hope you don't mind the extra layer of fur tonight." Your mother popped her head in the doorway, careful not to touch the fresh paint. She waved you inside, insisting Otto follow along. Apparently dinner was ready.  

The home was as cozy as ever, long wooden halls and big comfy furniture. Your father was sat at the kitchen table, sorting through a stack of mail. Behind him your old, dear friend. Mona abandoned her mission to reorganize the silverware drawer to wrap you in a big warm hug. The kind woman had always been like a grandmother to you. Between the company of her and Otto, your summers here were even more special and sought after.

"Alright, sit." Your father turned his eyes toward yours, gesturing for you to rest in the empty seat at his side.

"Nice to see you too, dad." You laughed, gazing to the mail set out before him.

"I've socked up on food and essentials for all your mates coming in a week. And since they are your friends, ya think you can handle staying here while mum and I go on our own summer holiday?"

Your father figured you could handle keeping order, and he made plans with your mother seem like a long time coming.

"I can phone your uncle to come help if you don't think you can manage it."

"How hard can serving tea and keeping the place clean be? I'll have Mona's help like always. And Otto's a great human security system. remember a few years back when he wrestled a man double his size, to the ground? Made him cry."

"Oh yeah, that guy! Pretended his car broke down and tried to break in." Your mother pointed with a shiver. Otto had spotted the stranger stalking toward your home in the middle of the night, and you all woke up to the sound of the two wrestling in the gravel driveway.

"I'm just a poor gardener, but I'll do what I have to." Otto declared as you all chuckled at the distant memory. Otto took a handful of dinner plates from your mother's grasp and offered to help set the table as you moved next to Mona to help finish make the first evening meal of the summer.

///

It was early enough for you to double-check everything three times. Living room tidy? Check. Snacks on the counter? Check. Extra blankets, pillows, and beer enough for a band full of divas? Check. All that was left to do was sit on the porch with Pepper at your feet, and wait.

You'd spend endless days doing just that, but you had never had something quite like this to look forward too. You'd brought some pals to stay, growing up, but this was different. You could almost sense that Queen's stay in your family's cherished getaway would be the marking of a time you'd remember more fondly than most.

Eventually, the sound of crunching gravel disrupted your daydreams of the future.  You were quicker than Pepper at your feet, who followed behind on your bolt down the porch steps with a delighted squeal.

John was the first one to step out of the van when it pulled to a stop. You raced up to greet him with a hug, one he returned with a bit of shy reluctance, but genuine mirth all the same.

"You're here! You're here!" You cheered, noticing Brian as you broke your hug with the feather haired bass player. You couldn't be stopped from greeting the lanky guitar player with the same excitement, your hug ended when Freddie's voice called out;

"I'm here! Hug me!"

Freddie planted a kiss to your cheek as you flung yourself toward him with a smile. The band stretched their legs out onto the grass, remarking about the beauty of the countryside.

"Welcome, you." You looked to Freddie, whose brows rose high over his dark sunglasses, his smile glowing as he peered past your shoulder to take it all in.

"Don't I get a warm welcome?"

Roger's familiar rasp whined from a few paces behind. He was dressed in denim head to toe, and was wearing the most ridiculous hat you'd ever seen. It made your heart buzz with some odd adoration you hadn't expected to feel at the sight of him. Your strange sudden feelings made approaching the blonde seem newly nerve-wracking, but you were glad to see him. So you opened your arms and invited Roger into a hug, same as everybody else. But Roger wasn't everybody else, was he?

Ever expressive, Roger scooped you up and lifted your feet from the ground in gratitude as he said,

"We owe you our lives for making this happen!"

You laughed in surprise, letting out a little squeal as Roger stumbled in an attempt to spin you around.

"Rog, put her down! She's got to give us a tour of this place or we're bound to get lost. It's massive." Freddie barked.

Roger did as he was told, setting you on your feet with care. You pulled down the bill of Rogers silly hat and spun around to lead everyone inside.

As the boys entered your favorite place, you introduced them two at a time to your family and friends who hurried to greet them all the same. It was a mess of hello's and warm welcomes as you shut the door and stepped further inside.

Your father held an arm out to show the boys to their rooms, chatting away on his tour down the halls. Your mother lifted a brow and shoulder when her gaze met yours after lingering on the band as they walked away.

"You've got a fun summer ahead." She grinned as if she knew something was coming, something you couldn't see yet.

The next thing you knew, you were helping Mona finish making dinner. You were sent to find Otto in the forest of flowerbeds outside of the barn. The two of you walked up the hill after you invited him in for dinner, listening to Otto ramble about the plans your father talked him into, of starting a vegetable garden.

Your mother had already rounded up everyone else in the dining room, going on about how excited she was to get to know your friends. And to your surprise, she'd even broken out the fancy fine china.

Between Otto and Freddie, the usual security you felt in their company had only been on separate respective accounts. Your worlds colliding was something you hadn't expected to be so warmed by. As you ate, you realized all your favorite people were here in one lucky place.

Queen were ever themselves, interrupting one another to share stories with your parents and Mona who asked questions at breakneck speeds. And while the jokes and banter flew from one topic to another, you held your breath each time Roger spoke up. Because every time before now, Roger only spoke in playful tones, and daring one-liners. You expected him to say something that might have embarrassed you, even if that wasn't his goal, if he even had one. But Roger surprised you in a different way, one you hadn't expected.

He utterly charmed your mother with the way he spoke about his education and aspirations. He gained your father's respect sometime after you poured everyone a new drink. During dinner, Roger was... shy. No, not shy, respectable. Boyish. No, not boyish... forbearing in a way you'd never seen from him before. Maybe you didn't have Roger figured out after all...

///

Your room was full of things you loved, in the back of the house. You enjoyed the privacy, but seeking through the halls at odd hours was always a challenge you held your breath during. The wood creaked underfoot as you followed the beams of the rising sun through the halls, daring not to wake anyone.

You snuck toward the front door without a hitch, clicking it shut with care. When on the steps of the porch, you were surprised to find two of the boys had already risen and were sharing a smoke.

John and Roger turned their heads from the steps, smiles stretching when they saw you.

"The only time I've seen you two up this early was if you were still awake from the night before." You laughed, stretching into the new day.

"Never realized you were such an early riser, either." John spoke up, stamping out his cigarette.

"Things are different here." You shrugged, making your way down the steps between the two musicians.

"Where are you going?" Roger wondered. His hair was tangled from sleep, but the dark spots near his eyes suggested he'd only tossed and turned all night.

You found yourself searching his features for a beat too long, and only played it off by raising a brow and nodding for the boys to follow you, if they so desired.

And they did. As you rounded the back of your home, you stalled near the shed and grabbed a bucket from it's tried and true stop- then you headed for the chicken coop.

This was something you did every morning, you'd never missed one. Otto handled everything else, but he always let you help out if you pestered him enough.

"This is Otto's coop." You introduced the paint chipped structure as John and Roger chuckled in awe, the band had yet to have a proper tour of the grounds.

"He built it, and everything. But I come out here every morning, just gives me something to do." You waved for the boys to walk ahead of you, before you made it to the spot you stopped in every morning.

Chickens emerged like clockwork, and the boys went about chasing a couple around like little kids. One took a particular liking to John, flowing at the man's side, stopping when he stopped. And try as he might to bend down and reach out to a group of the birds, Roger had yet to score any over.

"Why don't they like me?" He whined while John laughed in response. And just like that one bird turned from the group and started flapping and clucking toward Roger, sick of being pestered. The blonde bolted to his feet with a yelp, skipping away until the chicken stopped chasing after him in a flurry.

"I'm scared, hold me." Roger reached out to you, wrapping his arms around your side. It was comforting, it felt like less of a joke than Roger made it seem. But when you turned your head to look at him, you wondered if Roger might have actually been a little distressed.

But he'd constricted your arms, and you couldn't hug him back. So you glanced back to the house and said,

"Come on, ya big baby."

Roger's grasp slowly loosened as you lead the way, but you could feel his eyes remain fixed on you.

"I'll keep you safe, big baby." John threw an arm around his friend's shoulders as the three of you started your trek back up the hill and around to the front porch. Roger let out a comical fake cry just before you made it inside to find Freddie and Brian reluctantly awake in the kitchen.

The boys gathered around the table while you scurried to make tea, and insisted they help themselves to anything in the cabinets. And it wasn't long before the rest of your parents emerged out into the new day, Mona popping out into the kitchen soon after.

Your father showed the band to the barn, and offered to help them unload their instruments in the big empty space. Your mother took the tea you poured for her and settled into the sunroom with Mona, where you joined the ladies to gossip about everything that happened since last summer.

Day's like today, there isn't much for Mona to do, but she still got paid for sitting around chatting with you. Though she'd likely turn down the extra cash at the end of the weekend, your dad would always sneak a few bills into her purse when she wasn't looking. You'd have to remember to do the same when you were left alone.

///

Your parents and Mona all left the next morning, and the week that followed was some kind of adventure- even with the little routine you'd found yourself in.

Brian ended up being the early bird, while the others milked every last bit of sleep they could get. When you awoke and found Brian reading in the small nook of the living room, you got to talking about something so in-depth that he followed up out to feed the chickens. And that's how most mornings all week had gone, chatting away in the early morning, meandering down the hill to the birdhouse with Bri at your side,  prattling all the way back to where you came from.

One by one the boys would collect at the table to pick at the breakfast you'd gotten in the habit of making, before they drifted off to the barn.

You'd stay in to clean up, stalling near the open windows where you could hear your friends music drifting up the hill. They'd clatter through newborn songs and riffs that came together each time you stood to listen.

All week, you shared lunch with Freddie. In the sunroom, on the porch, wherever as long as you were together to chat like you usually would once a week at the coffee shop. And throughout your newly established daily lunch meetups, Freddie began making liberal use of his drummer's name. "Roger this," "Roger that," The blonde started taking up more space in your conversations than most other topics.

"What's with all this talk about your friend, huh?" You challenged Freddie, reaching for some fruit on a plate you shared between the two of you.

"Surely you've caught on by now, love. He's quite taken with you?" Freddie nonchalantly responded, reaching for an apple slice of his own.

"And surely if that was the case, Roger would have made that clear by now. He flirts in place of breathing." You chuckled.

"Then he must really like you. I've never known him to get so tongue-tied. Even when he's talking about you, which he never stops doing." Freddie shrugged, looking off in the direction of the warm breeze. You both stayed silent for a beat, your excuse- searching for what to say next. But Freddie found more words before you could.

"I think he would be happy with you. And I think you'd be happy with him. I just want you both to be happy."

"Well, so long as we've all got you Fred, I'm sure we will be." You grinned, truly meaning it. You and Freddie clinked your apple slices together in a toast, more like a truce to drop the subject, for now anyway.

Then as the sun burned, you meandered poolside, making Otto cease digging in the dirt long enough to ask how his day was going and distract him from work just long enough to share a few laughs.

You'd always ask him to take Pepper out, and he always insisted you didn't need to ask. You'd wander toward the forest with your furry friend, enjoying a bit of quiet. You used to bring books and pencils along when you had nothing better to do than sit against a tree and dream of the future. But this year, you keep calling Pepper back the way you came at the end of the trail, in a hurry back to check in with your friends.

When night fell after long dinners full of more chatter than food, everyone decided they'd seen enough of each other. That's when you and John would steal away the sunroom, and play cards moonlight. Sometimes you wouldn't speak much at all. And sometimes you'd share secrets, wishes you thought anyone else might make fun of you for dreaming of.

And all week, when you least expected it, you kept ending up next to Roger.

The blonde would ask to sit out on the porch with you, where you curled up in a rocking chair to read. He would ease onto the wooden steps and scribble away in his notebook, crossing out lyrics and penning new ones. He'd never tell you what he was writing, and you never asked. But you heard him humming under his breath, and you missed the gentle sound when you were called back in by Freddie for one reason or another.

Roger would find you again eventually, though. He'd leaf through the books in your living room, asking about every author. He'd appear at your side at the table during every meal, even the ones everyone ate in a hurry before scurrying off to rehearse.

One afternoon he surprised you by the side of the pool, when no one else was around. Though you had started to prepare to see Roger around when you least expected it, it was always a pleasant surprise.

"How's rehearsal today?" You asked, looking up from where you sat with your feet dangling in the water. Roger squinted your way, the shadows on his face illuminated by the hot summer sun.  It wasn't until you patted the space beside you that Roger spoke up, and slowly moved to join where you sat.

"Freddie called for a break. Writer's block, or something."

You hummed in understanding, watching Roger relax at your side. And after another look your way, maybe to check if you were actually keen on listening, he went on...

"I think we've all got a hit up our sleeves. Now if we could just all agree on one thing for one minute." Roger laughed, crossing his legs, reaching in the pool to grab the stem of a leaf that floated by.

Right then, Freddie stormed around the corner. He called off practice for the rest of the afternoon and declared he planned to lock himself in his room to finish writing.

When the door shut decidedly behind Freddie, you and Roger burst into shared laughter. And for another hour at least, you stayed right where you were. Roger told you about the songs he was writing. And the songs the others were writing. He asked what you would rather be doing, because surely, staying in the middle of no place with the lads of Queen around every corner, couldn't have been at the top of your list. You assured that it was, in fact. But you still somehow started to talk about how disappointed you had been to lose out on the opportunity to live your dreams, this summer. You talked about what you wanted and why you wanted it. Roger listened and asked questions he seemed truly interested in hearing the answers too. What was the harm in sharing a few more laughs?

///

The next day at breakfast, everyone was called to order by Freddie, who relaxed at the head of the table with some announcement to make. He sat in uncharacteristic patience as his friends filled up on orange juice and yammered about what they planned to accomplish that afternoon. When Brian went off on some sorry muttering over whose songs were better or worse, you and Roger locked eyes, and dulled the same sort of snicker. You were both thinking the same thing- thinking back to the conversation you had most of yesterday.

"Alright! Listen!" Freddie demanded. "We're taking a break today. We're going to lounge poolside, and gossip about trivial things. And if anyone starts to argue about recording or writing or what you bloody want to wear on stage, you'll be swiftly excommunicated to the chicken coop. Got it?"

There was little push back and soon the lot of you abandoned your breakfast to head outback.

The boys zoomed ahead of you, tossing their things into the places they claimed as their own. John sat at the small iron table under the cool shade of the umbrella and cracked open a magazine. Brian set up his things on a beach chair and was the first to creep toward the pool. Freddie checked his hair in a small compact mirror as he kicked off his sandals. And Roger raced straight for the deep end, splashing you with water on his dive in the water.

You yelped in surprise,  shocked by the cold.

"Come in!" Roger chirped after emerging to the surface.

"It's a bit cold isn't it?" You laughed, setting your things on a chair nearby.

"There," Roger intentionally splashed water at your feet. "Now you ought to be used to it. Come in!"

You reluctantly sat on the edge to dip your feet in as Roger waded toward where you settled. You turned your eyes to the water to avoid ogling the drummer, your throat going dry at the sight of his mostly bare frame so close to yours.

"I supposed it's not as cold as I thought." You cleared your throat, more so trying to keep your own cool. He hummed, still inching his way closer, making your cheeks burn.

And then, he was pulling you in. Roger yanked you from the edge, keeping a sturdy hold around you to ensure you didn't go under. You felt strangely comfortable and secure in his arms, in all the commotion. But you were still surprised enough to splash water in Roger's direction, a pitiful attempt to get back at him.

"We're meant to be relaxing!" Brian reprimanded, dodging the water you were splattering his way on accident.

"Exactly, Bri, do calm down." Freddie teased as he walked down the steps to join the rest of you.

"Deacy! Darling! You can read later, come enjoy the sun while it's here!"

And just like that, Freddie's wishes came true. The people he loved circled around your favorite old pool, gossiping about trivial things and hardly mentioned making music at all. It was the perfect summer day.

Eventually, you decided to get out to fix lunch for everyone. On your walk toward the house, you found Otto hunched over a broken wagon wheel, skin tanned from years under the same summer sky. You demanded he took a break and joined the lot of you for a much needed day of nothing but fun. He agreed, but only if you'd let him help throw food together.

When the pair of you toted trays of bite-sized lunch foods out to the nearest shade, the band of boys casually flocked to join you, scattering about the shade and fueling up to float around some more. Otto gave everyone a lesson on the kind of trees you sat under. Brian took a beer back to the deep end, Freddie following close behind, muttering something about catching the last of the day's sun. John offered to carry the empty trays back in, where he planned to head for a much-needed nap, swearing he planned to beat you at cards later.

Then there was Roger, who sulked between you and the rest of his friends. He sat near you, keeping his mouth full of beer as you chatted with Otto about all the times you'd enjoyed the pool most, before. And when Roger eventually joined Freddie and Brian in the pool, the blonde kept casting looks your way, gazes no one missed.

"He's a bit mad about you isn't he?" Otto pointed out in a hush, sipping his own beer while you scoffed a laugh.

"That's just how Roger is. He can't help himself. There's usually a line of girls waiting around for him. I must be his last resort, out here in the middle of nowhere." You explained, shifting your weight in your seat and pretending you didn't notice the drummers glances your way.

"Oh please, if that was true he'd be trying to to make you blush, right now. He's resorted to lovestruck gazes, and the occasional glare my way. That man likes you." Otto chuckled, pointing his beer can toward the boys in the pool. "Trust me I'm a guy, I know what's happening."

"That's dumb." You shot Otto a look over the top of your sunglasses. "Roger is my friend." At least you were pretty sure he was. "And I know that's just how he is."  You knew that for a fact.

///

The next morning you'd woken to a silent house, and found the halls were still even upon your return from feeding the chickens. You shrugged into the kitchen, realized it was a little earlier than usual, and fixed yourself some decaf tea. When the kettle rang, the hallway creaked, and you cringed on your hurry to quiet things down again.

Roger appeared in the doorway, looking as if he was still trying to wake from a dream.

"Sorry if I woke you I-"

"It's okay, you're fine." Roger murmured, easing into the room, buttoning up his undone nightshirt.

"Fancy a cup? Mona should be here any minute, we usually start the day with tea." You explained, pouring your own drink and biting your lip.

"You wouldn't mind if I joined?" Roger asked, like you'd just invited him on some grand adventure.

"Course not." You chuckled, reaching for two more cups.

You and Roger were halfway through your tea before Mona showed up. You sat together in the sunroom, where you and your much older friend usually settled at the start of every weekend. Roger asked you'd had any dreams while you slept, and you prompted him to tell of any he might have conjured.  

When Mona showed up, she eased across the small table from you like always, but in place of gossip, she spoke mostly to Roger. She asked about his hobbies and he asked about her life. Roger loved getting to know people, you knew. He was always so genuinely interested in hearing what made everyone tick. When he asked Mona about her loves and losses, she'd spoke in a vulnerable way you'd never seen from her prior. Ah, of course. Roger had that way with people, like the second anyone locked eyes with his sea-blue pair, they were in trance.

And while Mona looked after Roger as he spoke, the blonde kept turning to you, asking for details of the week he couldn't quite recall, and begging you to tell a certain story he swore you had a better perspective of.

When the rest of the band showed up, they traded sweet good mornings with your guest just before pulling Roger out into the barn to pick up where they left off the day before last.

"Now what's all that about?" Mona wondered, pouring the two of you more tea, initiating a more personal one on one chat. You cast her a perplexed gaze as she settled across from you, uttering Roger's name like you should have already been thinking of it.

You knew then that Mona was curious about all the too long gazes and nervous chuckles Roger was reduced to during the quiet morning visit at your side.

"That's just how Roger is." You shrugged. "A bit of a flirt."

"Well, that's not how you are." Mona shot back with an arch of her brow. "I know you. And if you really believed he was just having a little fun you wouldn't let yourself look at him the way you've been looking at him all morning. He has the same look, too. You match."

Mona's point toward the obvious hit you like a ton of bricks. Though she was swift to move on to your usual gossip, you felt yourself floating around the same thoughts of Roger.

For the rest of the day, in fact, you struggled to accept the fact that you'd been falling for Roger. Of course, you had, everyone seemed to expect it, root for it. And Roger had the perfect pair of eyes that refused to look away from yours until you were a puddle under his gaze; ready and willing to be pieced back together by his questions about how, exactly you were made.

You took Pepper down the walking paths between ever-growing trees, and wandered between them, the long way back home. The whole time you figured there was no harm in giving in to the little advances Roger couldn't seem to stop giving. You didn't want to fall so deep your heart would shatter when you finally collided with something cold and unmoving. But you were stuck out here for another two weeks, and Roger's persistent presence was warmer than the sun.

///

The next couple of days, when you looked to Roger, your heart started up like an engine. You didn't like it one bit. You only planned to let his flirting entertain you. You couldn't become invested in it. You'd lodged yourself between wanting to spend every odd hour listening to him talk, and knowing you were better off to go about your day like usual, to save yourself the trouble.

So when Roger invited you to come and sit while the band showed off their mostly put together list of songs, you did. And when Roger sat next to you during every meal, you offered him a smile before tucking in. And when Roger woke up to share a cup of tea with you every other morning, you let him. And you liked it.

But when Roger leaned in too close, you turned your eyes to your lap, focusing on your nails digging into your palms so you couldn't feel his breath ghosting across your ear as he told a joke no one else could hear. And when Roger asked to join your walks with Pepper, you told him no, because you'd never been so alone with him before, and you couldn't let that happen now.

The week was full of conflicts between the imaginary angel and devil on either of your shoulders. You waded further from the waters of self-control, but dashed back with the tide when Rogers moonstruck gaze grew too pretty to handle.

By the end of the second week, you'd continued your normal lunches with Freddie, the occasional morning debate with Brian, and the promised game of cards with John, when everyone else went to bed.

You poured some drinks for the two of you and sat in silence while the game started up. But before too long, John eased into a conversation about how much he enjoyed your countryside getaway.

"We're all so glad you've let us come round, it's so nice to be here. Feels like home. Fred might be going a bit stir crazy but he loves it, don't let him fool you." John laughed, laying down a card. You chuckled too.

"And Bri is content out here, with all the stars." You pointed out. Every night, Brian made a show of pointing out all the things the naked eye could see when the sky started turning black.

"And somehow, Rog is happiest. Can you believe that?" John's smile remained lithe but you realized John had subtly achieved changing the subject entirely.

"No, not really." You offered an honest simper.

"He really does like you, y/n."

"Hm..."

You laid a final card down, lost the round, and stretched upright, grabbing both empty glasses to rest in the sink.

"Just because I'm the only girl around for him to attach himself to, doesn't mean he likes me." You shrugged from across the room. John stood to join you, curiously meeting your gaze, waiting to hear more of what you had to say.

"Roger just can't be alone. I'm not interested in being a placeholder." You reasoned.

"Then why haven't you told him so? You've let him follow you around like a puppy all since he got here." John pointed out unabashedly. But he wasn't wrong to wonder why you'd started giving into the small advances.

"Because I like him." You admitted with a frustrated sigh. "And all I have is the rest of this summer to pretend that I'm not just his only option. But I can't... I just can't let him break my heart. It already hurts bad enough knowing this'll all end in a week."

"I get where you're coming from..." John sighed, disgruntled. A silence weighed between the two of you, while you stood in place, mind racing too fast to focus on a single thought through the white noise.

"But, you know," John went on, raising his chin as if that would help make a clearer point. "Rog may be reckless. And he may get caught up in getting the things he wants, so much so that he'll make a bit of a mess on his mission. But when he really genuinely wants something, he gets it. And when he has it, he doesn't let it go."

"I'm a person, Deacy. Not a fucking stamp. I refuse to be collected with all the other pretty souvenirs to be left on a shelf." You spoke in a harsh, exhausted hiss. John hung his head, pursing his lips as if he'd been personally defeated. You spun to leave the room, but someone was blocking the doorway.

Roger was clutching the door frame, fingertips going white, eyes and mouth drooping pitifully. You barely looked his way as you brushed past, scurrying down the hall to take cover. And the whole time, Roger hurried after you, asking your name like a big scary question.

You managed to shut yourself in your room before the blonde rounded the corner and caught up with you. And when you heard his voice muffle past the closed door, a silly little sadness bubbled up in your throat.

You didn't want to shut him out, but you really believed you had to. A couple of frustrated tears escaped as you went on getting ready for bed, and as you tried to talk yourself down from all the mess of thoughts threatening to make you cry harder, everything turned to white noise as your eyes grew heavy.

///

When you awoke, it was as if everything that happened before you fell asleep was a fever dream. You crossed your fingers for that to have been the case and went to start your morning like every one before it.

But when you opened your door, all the dreaded feelings you'd gone to sleep with flooded back tenfold. You found Roger asleep, slumped against the wall outside your door. At his side, Pepper, comfily curled against the man with her head in his lap, asleep too. You huffed, creeping past him to do your job.

And as you hurry your practiced creep through the house and out of the door, you thought you'd made it to the porch steps without any trouble. But of course, when you reached the shed, you heard the door swing open and heavy footsteps bounding down the porch. Roger hurried toward you with wild red eyes.

"Roger I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you the wrong impression. I guess I just got used to being around you." You let out a breath that sounded like a laugh as you grabbed your bucket of feed, and kept walking.

"Do you really feel that way?" Roger asked, voice rattling in a pitch you'd never heard him use.

"Does it matter?" You shrugged, approaching the coop.

"Do you really think I'm not mad about you? Do you really think I'm just going to go back to the city and shag the first lass I see? I want you, y/n. Isn't it dead obvious?"

"Roger!" You spun to face him, your tone starling a couple of chickens, and the blonde, who flinched away from a bird who flapped too close. "Don't do this to me!" You threatened.

If you could see up the hill you would know your voices traveled far enough to alarm John, Brian, and Freddie who were sharing tea next to the open kitchen windows. They couldn't make out what you were saying, but they could tell this wasn't going to be a morning like any other. They'd been watching things between you and Roger morph past friendly acquaintance, and they realized this must have been the breaking point. Things were boiling over, but where would they fall?

"It's worse to think you might actually be a little interested in me."

"I want to be with you y/n! Why is that bad?" Roger pointed desperately trying to make himself clear.

"For now, you might!" You shouted back. That stopped him in his tracks.

"But I want a forever, Roger. And you can't even get through breakfast without changing your plans. You can't even sign an autograph for one groupie without letting your eyes linger to meet someone else's! They might be okay with it. And if you are too, fine! But it would just break my heart."

You slammed the bucket of feed on the ground, birds hurrying toward the meal. Roger looked as though the wind had been knocked out of him. You hated it. But you had to stand your ground. It was going to hurt eventually anyway.

"Then what does it say about me that I still want you? Even if you think I'm so horrid?" Roger winced.

"I don't think you're horrid, I think you're amazing!" You shouted back with a wild gesture.

"That's the whole bloody problem!"  Wasn't it obvious? "I'll want you forever, even when you don't want me anymore!" You admitted, only realizing the weight of your statement after your words hung in the air, your heart cracking in its mold.

"What do I need to do?" Roger asked in a panic, stepping closer to you. "How can I prove that you're the only one for me? For now, and for always. Tell me what you want and I'll do anything I fucking swear." Roger's voice was thick and frantic, but you'd heard him sing and forget what he'd been wailing about the morning after.

"You don't mean that!" You cried, moving away. You heard all the times he planned one date with someone else while he toted a different girl on his arm. You didn't think it was a problem, not if that's what everyone was looking for. But you weren't that girl. You couldn't wait on the sidelines and be glad you got a kiss at the end of the day. And you couldn't expect Roger to play the part you wanted if that wasn't really him. You just didn't fit together. No matter how badly you wished you did.

So you picked up your bucket and turned to stomp up the hill.

"Y/n!" Roger plead, watching your storm away. He stood debating on letting you have a bit of space. But, he'd done enough of that. He needed to prove himself now.

You stormed inside, casually so. You'd planned to ignore the rest of the boys who still stood about the kitchen, and head straight for your room. But you hadn't out run Rogers hurry to stop you. He bolted through the entry just as you reached the doorway to the hall.

"Y/n wait," Roger begged, instead of demanded. His dejected tone was what forced your feet to stall before they reached the corner. The boys fell silent from across the room while you fixated your stare at the wall, afraid if you met anyone eye, you'd burst into tears.

"Please." Roger croaked. The room was silent. And when you slowly turned to face him, Roger was struggling to hold back tears, pools brimming in his impossibly big eyes. Everyone around seemed to hold their breath, waiting for you to say something.

After what felt like forever, Freddie ushered his two remaining bandmates out the back door while you and Roger stood, deadlocked.

You sighed, shook your head, grabbed Roger by the wrist, and pulled him toward the living room. You released him from your grasp near the sofa, where Roger slowly sat, gapping your way.

"I don't want to fight with you, Roger." You sighed after a while of staring out the window, searching for just what to say.

"I'm fighting for you, y/n. I've never wanted anything more."

"But Rog..." You implored softly. But when you turned and looked at his watery eyes, you'd forgotten what point you were busy making.

He sucked in a breath bracing for you to keep at it, but you slumped, sitting next to him sorrily. You moved both of your hands to Roger's face, and brushed your thumbs under each of his eyes, wiping away the traces of tears that happened to overflow.

"Everything is different with you. I understand just saying so isn't good enough. Give me a chance to prove it?" Roger asked in a hush, looking in your eyes his fingers slowly wrapped around your wrists. The drummer slid off the side of the couch, tangled his fingers with yours, and looked up to you from his knees, one final silent plea.

Your heart was too conflicted, too quick to cower behind the wall you'd build up. So you just gave Roger a pathetic nod, because you knew you couldn't say no.

"I'm sorry I upset you." You spoke, glancing at the way Roger's hands clutched yours, still. With that, the blonde let out a sigh and rested his head in your lap, accepting the conclusion.

You lost your fingers in his strands of hair,  accepting his display of affection, or whatever it might have been. All you knew was that you'd never felt more content and confused at the same time.

The pair of you stayed like that for a while, in shared silence. It was broken when Freddie's voice echoed through the back door. He called both of your names, and then Rogers once more. The band didn't have much more time to waste.

When Roger lifted his head from your lap, you stopped him from standing to brush his hair back into place. The two of you shared the smallest laugh, the tiniest expressions that made you believe you were on the same page. Then you walked toward the sound of Freddie's timbre, side by side.

The singer was wringing his hands in the garden doorway, casting Roger a concerned expression as the two of you approached. The blonde nodded toward Freddie as he walked outdoors and sauntered toward the barn, stretching his arms. But Freddie stalled in the doorway, turning to you once Roger was a few paces off.

"We'll figure it out, I promise." You told Freddie, before he could even ask. You knew he only stopped you to wonder what just happened. The only thing was that you weren't entirely too sure.  "We'll be alright. And you can finish your record. I'm sorry-"

Freddie raised his hand ceasing your statement. Then he looped an arm through yours and insisted you come and listen to Queen's newly perfected masterpiece that still didn't have a name.

///

The last week you continued to share most mornings with Brian, and every lunch with Freddie. You still beat John at the same old card game. But each day you spent near Roger, was different.

The silence you shared held a new weight, a ticking time bomb. The conversations you traded were gentler, but shifted around familiar topics. There was nothing you and Roger were afraid to discuss, well, everything except one thing. And when the subject of your feelings for each other threatened to come up, you and Roger shared a glance in place of any discussion.

He followed you out to the forest with Pepper, throwing sticks she'd chase after but fail to bring back. Roger sat by you at every meal, looking to you first for every open-ended question that popped up through your friend's chatter.

And during the last night of the band's stay, after they spent the morning loading up their instruments into their van, you planned a big evening in. Setting out movies and snacks and all the proper essentials for any good party.

Otto came over, with a plate of desserts and some seeds for Brian to plant. Mona stayed an extra night, exchanging recipes with John, and sharing a long chat with Freddie and Roger in the sun room. When everyone gathered to watch a film or two, most of the boys fell asleep before the second film started. Besides you and Mona, Otto was the last man standing as the credits rolled.

When Mona lifted her frame for a big comfy claw-footed chair, she brushed past you with a wink on her way to bed. Roger had fallen asleep at your side long ago. with his head on your shoulder. You gave your old friend a pursed grin, before closing your eyes and leaning into the drummer's warmth. If whatever happened between you and Roger was only meant to last for a month, this was your last chance to enjoy it. You'd already fallen. Why not give in for a second or two?

The next morning, you awoke to find you'd switched places. Your head was comfortably perched on Roger's shoulder, his body turned toward yours as if he was inviting in the comfort. You blinked to the band still passed out around the living room. But Roger was awake, and already waiting to meet your gaze.

You could tell when your eyes met then, that it was one of those moments with a dozen outcomes. Whatever either of you said or did next felt detrimental. So you stuck to what you knew, and asked Roger if he'd like one last cup of tea. He said yes.

Eventually, the boys started dragging their suitcases to the front porch, blabbering about the sunshine and the city they were headed back to. You passed around hugs, sending each boy to their ride one by one. They all thanked you in their own silly little way, all of them groggy and reluctant to leave the quiet.

When the van pulled out of the driveway, you couldn't tell if Roger was looking back or not. You bit back tears as your friends drove off, and for the first summer ever, you feel stuck in Surrey.

///

The next time you saw Queen was on stage.

You'd made it back home to the city just in time to change and race to see your friends play. Because even though you'd had the pleasure of hearing the echoes of their endless rehearsal for weeks on end, you still weren't sick of the sound. They were set up in a small club, getting back into the swing of putting on a show for more than a wandering chicken and or two.

A usual cast of friends, groupies, and followers were scattered about the crowd. You knew some of them, and a few introduced you to faces you'd never seen before then. But when Queen took the stage, the audience ceased their chatter to join in giving the band a warm welcome.

They needed no introduction. Their instruments caught fire and melded together in perfect timing, in alarming harmony. You watched on in wonder, each member using their talent to the band's advantage, showing off in each other's favor. You'd never tire of marveling over their music.

After a setlist full of head-spinning tunes, the crowd thinned out respectively. Fans meandered out front, planning to linger near the band's parked van. Friends drifted toward the stage while the boys tore down their set, shooting winks and nods toward the groupies who slipped backstage. That left you eyeing a side exit, planning your route home, wondering if you had time to stop for a bite to eat on the way home.

But your mission toward the exit was hindered when someone yanked you backward by your shirt sleeve.

"You're not leaving." Brian declared, pulling you along, past the stage, where Freddie spun, blowing you a kiss. Brian pulled you backstage, down a couple of dank halls lined with girls and guys waiting to get their hands on one of Queen.

Brian dumped you off in the doorway of the green room, you supposed. The space offered a sofa, a mirror, and a table full of half-consumed liquor bottles. And all alone stood Roger Taylor. He appeared to have changed shirts, and was screwing the lid back on to a bottle of water when he looked up and noticed you.

If you thought Rogers eyes were bright, his smile upon seeing you was blinding.

"You came! I thought you'd be sick of us by now." Roger chuckled, opening his arms as he approached to wrap you in a hug.

"I swear you get better every time." You laughed, hugging him back, surprisingly relieved and relaxed in his arms. When Roger let go of you, he searched your face as you stood, failing to hide your blush.

"You came." He smiled again, as if he was just now really realizing you were here.

"Of course I did, Rog."

With that, he grabbed your hand like he'd done it more than once. Roger pulled you alongside him, greeting every odd familiar face in the halls. Some knew your name, others learned it when Roger introduced you in passing. He led you right to the stage, where he went to take his drums apart. Freddie cornered you to spill what seemed like every thought he had since last you'd seen each other. John even circled back around to offer you a goodbye on his hurry home for the evening.

Then, the rest of the weekend went almost just like that. You stood and watched your friends warm-up the same stage in preparation to tour later on. And when the shows ended, you waited around to make sure you told each boy hello, or goodbye.

Roger seemed to wait up for you. He never sought you out, never hurried off stage to cling to your side. He simply waited near the bar or in the green room, where you found him kicking his feet until he saw you. Then, he'd dare to cling to you. To grab your hand, or lean his shoulder against yours while you both listened to some stranger tell a long boring story.

Rogered waited up for you, and that's how you knew. At the end of the weekend, you went home feeling utterly incomplete. Thoughts of Roger used to hurt your head and heart, but the ache you felt at the thought of the blonde was much different now. You were only torturing yourself, really. It was time to give in.

You told yourself that whatever happened next, was exactly what was meant to happen. On your drive to Rogers flat, you made yourself accept your fate in advance, no matter what it might have been.

On your march up the complex stairs, you figured you didn't have much to lose.

You knocked, bolts of nerves surging through each time your knuckles met the door. When it opened, Roger seemed genuinely surprised to see you.

"Oh hey," He uttered, moving back to let you in. You glanced past Roger's shoulders as you stepped inside the space he shared with Brian, though the guitarist was usually staying with his soon to be wife in the little apartment they'd started slowly moving into.

"I thought Bri left for the evening. But I suppose if you're expecting him he'll be back any minute..." Roger reasoned, shutting the door and shuffling a safe distance away from where you'd planted your feet in the kitchen.

"I'm here to see you, Roger." You bit back a grin.

"Me? I-" His saucer eyes were innocently confused. He was clad in an old sweatshirt and his hair was still a little damp from a shower at the end of a long night. Before he had time to finish asking what you were doing here, you closed the space between the two of you.

You placed a hand on Roger's jaw and kissed him in the blink of an eye. His lips were warm and soft, and even more perfect than you imagined them to be. He stalled for a moment, but when you showed no signs of pulling away, Roger gave in. He snaked an arm around your middle and kissed you back in the manor a soldier coming home from war might have. Your lips moved together for what seemed like forever, you hoped it was.

"I'm sorry I never did that sooner." You breathed after your kisses died down. Roger kept his arm around you, holding you close against his form.

"Better late than never, right?" Roger mused, curling his lip into a grin as his eyes searched yours. This was what you wanted, no questions asked. It was time to give in.

"If you want forever, I'd love to share that with you." You nodded in a whisper, holding your breath during the nanosecond it took Roger to agree.

"I want everything with you." Roger laughed a little like he shouldn't have had to state the obvious, but was glad to all the same. You let out a small laugh too, more like a sigh of relief, though. You hadn't expected to end up in the situation, but as the summer crept into autumn, you couldn't imagine your world with Roger.

///

Thursdays were still reserved for you and Freddie to share your usual order at the coffee shop. And John still sometimes joined in to share a joke or a wise old sentiment in between your gossip. You still saw Brian at every odd dinner, game night, and gig; where you rambled and argued about the workings of the universe. And in between it all, Roger was always at the back of the stage and at the end of every day, always looking to you. You rocketed into sharing beds, and breakfasts and shopping trips together. You and Roger were never too far apart.

As autumn turned to winter, you went on the hunt for another internship and found something better; a job. It was only then you realized how glad you were to have missed out on that very first opportunity. How lucky you got when everything was canceled and you were propelled into the forest with your favorite band. That must have been how things were always meant to happen. Because the production you signed on to now caused stars to form in your eyes. It was a position even dreamier than you ever hoped to score, but something that wasn't meant to start until the beginning of the next year.

So when Queen released their record and started morphing from hometown heroes to actual superstars, they each begged you to join the tour meant to promote their new music. And you didn't have a single reason to decline.

You tagged along for a couple of weeks, snapping photos of the boys on the plane, in front of shop windows, and on each new stage they took by storm.

And as the days you'd booked to ride along dwindled away, as fate threatened to keep you apart longer than you'd like to have ever been, you just kept planning for your future.

"Let's get a dog." Roger piped up one night, as he slipped into a cozy hotel bed beside you.

"What if he gets lonely? If we get one we'd have to get another." You countered, snuggling close. Roger hummed in agreeance, while you settled against him for the last night you'd get the chance to for months in a row.

"One day we'll have all the dogs we want." Roger sighed, the softness of his tone and the rattle of his chest under your ear was just as good as any of the other music he made. "A whole farm."

"Even a chicken coop?" You teased in a falsely hopeful manner, assuming he'd shiver at the thought.

"Whatever you want." You felt Roger shrug. You lifted your head to meet his eyes, waiting for the catch, because you knew he couldn't possibly care for you so much to bend at the will of all of your silly little suggestions.

"I love you. I want everything with you. Even chicken coop." Roger spoke in a hush, reaching his long fingers to brush your cheek. You stared at him in awe, completely submerged in appreciation for Roger, and this moment you shared.

"You'll have to feed them though," Roger spoke as you searched his features. With that, you both laughed until you fell asleep, together.

When morning came, you hoped packing your bags at a slow pace would stall time, in a magic moment. But in the blink of an eye, you were rushing to catch a cab, glancing over your shoulder to find Roger watching you go.

It was hard to settle back home in the quiet rainy city without the boys to keep you company, to keep you on your toes. But you settled into your dream job, finally fulfilled with all the hard work you spent getting to the place you landed in. You worked, and dreamed of Roger, and pinched yourself every time you realized just how lucky you were.

You and Roger were further apart than ever before, even when you hadn't attached at the hip. But he called, and sent letters, and promised he'd see you soon. And you answered and wrote back and promised you were counting down the days.

When he finally came home to you after months away he bound your way with arms outstretched. Roger lifted you from the ground, spinning around with ease, pleading for you to come on the next tour, and the one after that if there was one. And you knew Roger was yours, that your days were better spent dreaming together. You knew you'd be alright.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

[goatsandgangsters]

do you have any writing tips pls 🥺🥺

Ohhh big question! I’m flattered that you want my writing thoughts, anon!

So. Are we talking about tips on getting through writer’s block/sitting down and actually writing? The mechanics of writing itself, the individual sentences and word choices? Developing a plot? Characters or dialogue? Drafting and revising? If there’s a specific part of the process that’s angsting you, let me know, I’m happy to say more on that. For now I’ll try and touch on as much as broadly as I can.

Writing is a process, a craft, a practice. A joy and a trial. The act of hitting some keys with your fingers but also making something out of nothing. Which is to say—it comes with practice, it can be frustrating, it can be rewarding, and however you’re feeling about writing, you’re not the only one.

Inspiration/actually sitting down to write:

I find that writing is like exercise. Yes, in the sense that it takes practice to build up those muscles, but MORE IMPORTANTLY writing, like exercise, makes me groan and go “but that’s haaaaard I don’t wanna doooooo it, what if I just siiiit here insteaaaad.” And then I grudgingly get started. And I start to get into the rhythm. And then “oh goddammit. This DOES feel good.” I’ve still never experienced a runner’s high, but I have experienced “no I don’t wanna write. well I guess I’ll write. oh hey I’m writing. oH HEY!! I’M WRITING!!!” Sometimes you just need to push yourself through to start.

That said, sometimes you don’t need to push yourself to start. Sometimes it’s better to let something sit. It’s okay to pivot to another project if you’ve stalled out on one. I saw a post once that called this “crop rotation” and I think that’s true. Sometimes the challenge is getting started, but even when you can’t get started, the time away can be valuable, because it allows you to return with fresh ideas and fresh ideas.

I love using Fighter’s Block for when I can’t get started. It curbs my perfectionist tendency to write the same first sentence over and over again by forcing me to write consistently and quickly without refreshing tumblr between every sentence. Once I’ve got a paragraph, I’ve got enough of a rhythm going to keep writing on my own. You can use it for longer stretches of time, but I find a couple rounds of 200 word count goals is enough to get me through the inertia of getting started.

Read a lot:

Reading makes you a better writer. You will absorb aspects of the craft in the process—sentence structure, rhythm, plot beats.

Then think about what you read. Think about what works. Think about what doesn’t. Notice sentences that you love—not by meaning but by sound. Think about how the story is told, how the plot elements come together, how the themes operate, how the narrative is structured. Did the flashbacks works or were they superfluous? Did you love the metaphors and descriptive language, or did it feel vague and unhelpful? What parts grabbed you, what parts didn’t?

Being able to identify what does and doesn’t work in someone else’s writing will help you apply it to your own. It will also help you craft your own voice and style.

Use writing tips as a challenge, not a rule:

We’ve all seen those “writing rules” like don’t use adverbs, don’t say feels or thinks, don’t say said. Never listen to writing “rules”; instead, see them as a writing “challenge.” You don’t need to jettison every single adverb or permanently strike certain words from your writing. Sometimes, an adverb is the best word. And sometimes it isn’t.

These tips are useful, but not as hard-and-fast rules that must be obeyed every time under every circumstance. Instead, use them as tools to challenge you to think about your writing in new ways, to see if there’s a better way to say something (and maybe there is and maybe there isn’t), and to bring a freshness to the process.

I actually do really like to challenge myself to minimize feels and thinks. “He feels sick to his stomach” will pretty much always be less powerful than “His stomach lurches.” But sometimes feels and thinks work better, either because I need quick exposition or because it specifically emphasizes a thought or a feeling as perception. Again, it’s not about rules. It’s about challenging your habits to breathe new life into your writing. 

Revising tools:

if you’re a tactile person and you own a printer (which I am but I don’t), I like to print out a draft and sit on the floor with a pen and a highlighter and highlight anything that sounds clunky or that doesn’t quite fit. Then I massage those specific sentences, looking for other ways to say them, and narrow in on those parts rather than trying to edit everything overall.

The hemingway app method (as long as you know you’re allowed to disagree with it) can be good to catch certain things. Sometimes I use it and think “yeah that sentences IS too long and awkward, I should rephrase it” and sometimes I think “nah, that sentence is long but it’s controlled and it works.” Sometimes it’s useful in pointing out that I used the word just way too many times; sometimes I’ll keep my adverbs thanks.

Retyping the entire thing in another word document is another revising trick. So is reading the entire think out loud to yourself (your actual ear will catch awkward rhythms or typos that your inner voice glossed over).

(Note: I don’t do all of these all the time. I revise with whichever method I happen to be feeling at the moment)

Character interactions:

Overly expository character interactions are probably my #1 writing pet peeve. People don’t say what they mean. They don’t calmly and carefully and eloquently articulate exactly what they feel. If your characters are conversing in well-practiced monologues where they’re able to objectively analyze and express their exact feelings, it’s not believable. It’s also not fun for the reader, because Explanations of Emotions are being used as a stand-in for actual emotions.

Example: You don’t have a breakdown because you’re stressed about losing your job and you had a fight with your sister and you’re also the protagonist who has to save the entire world. You have a breakdown because you can’t find your fucking pen. It was here a moment ago, you know it was, you put it THERE because that’s where you PUT things but now it’s gone and the pen is gone and you can’t even find the fucking pen so how are you going to save the world and everything is going to SHIT because you can’t FIND your goddamn pEN.

Your character is probably not even an expert on their own feelings, let alone able to objectively explain them to someone else. There are things we can’t make ourselves say out loud. We deflect. We put all the big feelings into small things. We squeeze someone’s hand and say come on, let’s make dinner because you can’t say everything is going to be okay I promise you and I love you so much and one day you’ll see that it’ll all work out.

What are your characters saying with their body? What are they saying with what’s left unsaid? And when are they saying something Else that’s really about Them? (“You did what you had to do,” character A assures character B, because character A’s own guilt weighs on them. They’ll never say this out loud. They don’t even need to specifically think “just like my own guilt, which weighs on me.” We know it by what they say, about other people and about other things, because these are the times when you’re really talking about yourself)

Also, the size of the emotion displayed does not translate into the size of the emotional impact on the reader. A big sweeping declaration of I love you shouldn’t be used as a stand-in for real chemistry or a moment of love that is specific to those characters. An absolute sobbing breakdown isn’t inherently more tragic for its size. You don’t need torture porn to evoke angst. Emotions are a lot more subtle than that. Using a caricature of emotion in the extreme often cheapens the emotion for the reader, rather than enhancing it. 

Other assorted tips:

Write notes! Sit up at 3 AM and write down a snippet of dialogue in a note on your phone! Jot down the plot idea for later! Note the phrase you heard someone say that sounds like it would be a good title.

If you can’t figure out how to end your story or your section or your chapter, it might be because it’s already over and the story has finished telling itself. If the beginning doesn’t feel right, if it feels slow and clunky, it might be because your starting place is too early. If the character interaction feels wrong or the scene isn’t going right or you can’t make that line of dialogue work, the problem is probably about 5 or 10 lines up where you took a wrong turn.

An em dash—like the one I used here—separates out a part of the sentence that couldn’t be a sentence on its own. Semicolons join two independent sentences together; this is an example.

The dialogue tag is part of the sentence. Correct: “I love dogs,” he said. or “I love dogs.” Incorrect: “I love dogs.” he said. or “I love dogs,” He said.

That’s everything that comes to mind immediately. If there’s another part of the process that you want me to focus on, let me know! I’m happy to go more in-depth on specifics! 

[greatfay]

since ur answering asks and shit can u explain what u meant by generational differences in communication

Damn it’s like 2015 tumblr when my inbox used to be WET. So if you’re talking about the controversial opinions post, YES, like I totally understand where people are coming from when they say that generational divides aren’t real (because they aren’t, they’re arbitrary) and distract us from real problems and yes they paint past generations as collectively bigoted when Civil Rights protestors in the 60s (who are in their 70s and 80s now) are mirrors to BLM protestors today, who could be of any age, but the most vocal and famous (at least online, especially irt to the founders, like Patrisse Cullors who is 37.

But how we communicate is sooooo different. I really point to the Internet and Social Media as a major influence in how younger millennials (more Tom Hollands and less Seth Rogans—see even there, I feel like there are two different types of Millennials) and Gen Zrs/Zoomers and even Generation Alpha behave and communicate. We live in a world where we grew up either knowing right out the gate or discovering the hard way that what we say and do has permanence, the kind of permanence that prior generations have never experienced until today. The dumb things kids have been saying since forever can now follow them... forever. We have an inherent understanding of how online spaces work. Compare that to, idk, let’s say you posted on your Facebook (for the first time in 18 months) “All these big and bad grown ass Senators going after actual child Greta Gerwig lol ok, you’re so brave for attacking a CHILD over climate change” and then your aunt, who’s turning “forty-fifteen” in May replies to your post with “So happy to see my passionate niece! Much love from us, hope you’re doing well. Paul is doing great, waiting on his screening results. Tell your mom I said we miss her, we need to get together, we forgive her for last Christmas.”

Like... ok there’s a lot going on there, but your hypothetical aunt is oversharing on a publicly accessible post. And even with the most strict of privacy settings, she’s oversharing where your other Facebook friends (which may include classmates, coworkers, etc.) can see. But she’s saying things that would only be appropriate in a 1-on-1 conversation. This Aunt doesn’t have an understanding of such boundaries, she’s not as technologically literate and hasn’t grown up in a world of Virtual Space, she still gets most of her news from TV, she trusts what a reporter on Channel 4 will read off a script more than what actual video footage of an incident might reveal on Twitter, and she has no clue that she’s been sharing her location data with every post she makes.

There’s such a huge difference. I think it even affects how we experience and express stress and frustration. I think growing up partially in online spaces has made me more accustomed to conflict and consequence-free arguing than someone who never had to worry about that. I’ve been exposed so much to harassment and bullying, triangulating and echo chambers in forums and threads, and vastly opposing point of views at such an early age that it’s had an effect on how I see the world. Compare this to a customer I helped two weeks ago who was looking for a specific type of supplement for children. I found it for her, I handed her exactly what she was looking for, even though her description of the product actually matched several different products; to make sure I’d done my job thoroughly and that she leaves happy and satisfied and doesn’t bother me again, I then show her more products that match her description so that she knows she has options. And she proceeds to freak out, saying “NO, NO, I’M LOOKING FOR [X] AND IT HAS TO BE [XYZ]” and when I say freak out, she looked stressed and PANICKED. And being a retail employee wears you down bit by bit, and add COVID on top of it and little shit like this makes you snap, sometimes. So I have to cut her off like “Why are you screaming and freaking out, jfc you’re holding what you said you wanted. It’s in your hands. I gave you what you wanted, I’m just showing you more things.”

That customer is not an exception, she’s not a unique case. She’s representative of a frightening percentage of her generation, the kids who watched Grease and The Breakfast Club and Ghost in theaters when they were originally released. This is how they communicate and process information. She could not, for some reason, register that her need had been fulfilled, and defaulted to an extreme emotional response when given new and different information.

I’ve yet to deal with someone younger than 35 act the same way, the exceptions being the kids of very wealthy people at my new job who reek of privilege I gag when they walk in—but even they are like *shrugs* “ok whatever” and understanding when there’s something I can’t do for them.

Me: “sorry, we are totally out of that one in your size, but I can order it for you, it’s 2-3 day shipping at no cost to you and we ship it straight to your house”

A rich, white, attractive 22-year-old who’s had access to organic food, a rigorous dermatologist, and financial security since she was born: “mmm... sure, I’ll order it”

A 47-year-old of any socioeconomic background, of any race, in the same situation: “AHHHHHHHHHHH”

I just think it’s crazy how three generations of kids and young adults raised in a world where everything moves so much faster, where knowledge and entertainment and communication can be gathered so much faster, are often so much more polite and patient and understanding. Yesterday I told an older man (mid-50s) whose native tongue is the same as mine, as clearly and succinct as possible, that what he’s looking for is “in aisle 4.” He proceeded to repeat back, “Aisle 7?” four time before I dropped everything to show him what he needed in aisle 4, despite his insistence that he didn’t need me to walk him there. 4 and 7 sound nothing alike in English. There’s just something going on up there 🧠 that’s different.

Oh, other generational divides!!! We have different approaches to labor and working. Totally different! I’m a “young” millennial where I’m almost Gen Z, and I’ve noticed an awful trend among my demographic where people actually brag about working 90 hour work weeks. Or brag about how they skip breaks and live on-call to get the job done for “the hustle” like this “hustle, become a millionaire by 30″ culture that’s dominated these kids, idk where tf that came from. Like why are you proud of being a wage slave, getting taken advantage of by your millionaire/billionaire overlords. Compare this to my mother’s generation (she’s a borderline Genius X’er, she and her best friend were a year too young to watch Grease when it came out and had a random older woman buy tickets for her; she went to Prince concerts, took photos of him, then sold the photos on buttons at school, that’s her culture and teenage experience), where she’s insistent on her rights and entitlements as an employee, and these things she instilled me: “whatchu mean they didn’t schedule a break for you and you’re working 12 hrs today? oh no, you’re off, don’t answer your phone cuz you are NOT available!” There are Gen X’ers who entered the workforce at a time that America was drifting toward this corporate world, with more strictly defined regulations, roles, and understandings of labor rights (and also, let’s talk about how the 80s there was so much more attention on workplace harassment, misogyny and gender divides in wage gaps, etc. etc... not that much has changed, but at least it was talked about!). There are young people today who are taken advantage of because they aren’t as informed or don’t feel as secure and valuable enough to claim what belongs to them.

At the same time, those generations (Gen X and older) have a different viewpoint of hierarchies in the workplace and respect irt our direct supervisors. That’s how you get this blurring of boundaries between Work Life and one’s Personal Life that leads to common tropes in media written by their generations, where oh no! I’m having my boss over for dinner and the roast beef is still defrosting :O is such a “relatable thing” for them... meanwhile us younger generations are like I don’t even like that you know where I live, and if I see your 2017 Honda Civic pass my place one day, we’re going to have a problem. I think older generations have a different relationship with the word “Respect” than we do. Like, my grandma, who’s turning 87 (?) this year, and the other seniors in my area, they have a different concept of honor and an expectation of professional boundaries that I, and my mom and her generation, just don’t see (so then there’s something in common with Gen X’ers and the rest of us.) My dad grew up in a world where talking and acting like George Bailey and knocking on someone’s door with a big smile could get you a job, a job that could pay for college and rent no problem. My mom grew up in a world that demanded more prestige, where cover letters and references could get you into some cushy jobs if you’re persistent and ballsy enough. And I grew up in a world where potential employers literally don’t see your face when you apply unless they lurk on any social media profiles you have publicly available and they hold all the cards, and you need all those CVs and reference letters just to make minimum wage... so I feel like I am powerless in the face of such employers.

[theriverpersonshadow]

Lamia Drama Part 11

Heyooo. Guess who’s back... kinda. ^^;;; Not my favorite chapter by a long shot, but the idea got stuck in my head just enough to type out.

I hope tumblr doesn’t mess up the double-space formatting between texting and Liam’s thoughts, but I think it’s still distinguishable regardless.

A little bit of context for those who don’t play much DnD: Hexblade warlocks get their power from a patron who gives them a magic weapon. Fighters get a fighting style that allows them perks based on what kind of weapon they use. Sorcerers have inborn magic, and wild magic can make weird things happen sometimes.

Also, I know that it’s spelled y’all, but for some reason my fingers insist that it’s ya’ll??? Idek.

Aaaaaaanyways, these lamia species come from @vex-bittys ! Enjoy! <PREV | BEGINNING | NEXT>

           Liam sighed happily as he stretched himself out in his enclosure. His skull-cap had been removed for the night. In theory he could, and probably should, leave it on, but the tacky substance that held it in place irritated his bones and itched horribly. Plus it just felt like something was sitting on his head all the time. It’s not like he had any nerves in the fake-bone, so it just felt like a dead weight. Bandage and cloth wraps were far more comfortable and did just as good of a job at keeping things out of his head. But in the safety of his own habitat with daylight hours away? There wouldn’t be much harm in letting it air out a little. Air swirled into his skull as he moved, tickling the inside, as he slid on top of the silky, plush pillows and under a warmed up heating blanket.

           Normally he wouldn’t put on heat for the night unless it was freezing, it was easier to sleep in cool air, at least for him, but his eyes kept darting to his phone on its charger. Normally he’d have put it away by now, but they’d gotten Alex’s number and added her to the DnD group chat, Snarls and Snakes, so everyone with a phone was still chatting (save for Nikolai).

           Pointy Combatant (Oozy): i demand you guys pronounce it G’nome. yeah i wear the pointy hat. m a G’arden G’nome

           Devising Machinations (Keith): Your character still needs a NAME.

           Pledged Companion (Trousle): YES, LAZYBONES!

           Proxy Child (Alex): Names are hard, I get it m’dude.

           Problematic Changeling (Liam): Still, that’s just lazy.

           Devising Machinations (Keith): Oh hey, ya got your phone back. Nice :)

           Problematic Changeling (Liam): They couldn’t keep it from me~

           Pledged Companion (Trousle): THAT ISN’T EVEN YOURS!

           Pointy Combatant (Oozy): dude caps

           Pledged Companion (Trousle): I AM SMALL, YOU WILL NOT HEAR ME IF I DON’T SHOUT

           Proxy Child (Alex): That… That isn’t how text works???

           Pledged Companion (Trousle): ALSO THE SHIFT KEY IS STARTING TO ACT BUGGY. I DON’T WANT TO ASK FOR A PHONE OR KEYBOARD UNTIL THIS IS DEAD THOUGH

           Devising Machinations (Keith): *nods* Understandable.

           Pointy Combatant (Oozy): p sure that liam got it for good behavior

           Pointy Combatant (Oozy): suck up

           Problematic Changeling (Liam): IT IS A VALID HUNTING STRATEGY!!! Deception is JUST as valuable as being able to bite things. Sometimes. I’m more fond of biting deer than trying to play mind games with them.

           Or he assumed he would be, if he got to see a deer. He was old enough to be rented out to handle overpopulated areas, but he wasn’t very popular… People saw the eye and all other thought seemed to go out the window. Nevermind that deer and rabbits pound at the ground like they were trying to break the earth, no one cared about that. They only cared that he was down an eye. Fuck them.

             Devising Machinations (Keith): Everyone happy with their characters before I get started with anything in depth? I’ve talked to Hux, dude’s fine ^u^

           Proxy Child (Alex): I think so??? I’m still trying to figure out whether or not to main in Hexblade or just go straight fighter. I mean, getting the fighting style is well worth dipping into it regardless, but, like, would my character *want* help from another fae, or is this something she felt she needed to do herself? Like, making pacts and stuff would make her seem more fey-y, but does she WANT to be fey-y? Or would I rather have her intentionally shun all of it?

           Devising Machinations (Keith): Not a call I can make, but can’t wait to hear about it.

           Problematic Changeling (Liam): I’ve had similar questions… I do think I’m going sorcerer one way or another, wild magic of course, since they’re inherently magic, but would they have been trying to learn other things as well?

             There was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on with their characters. They seemed so juicy already, enough angst and plot potential for them both to sink their teeth into, but something felt slightly off…

             Proxy Child (Alex): I guess it comes down to whether my character (who I will give a name to, eventually) would want the “crutch” of a more powerful fae helping them out, or if they’d rather prove their own worth.

           Liam’s fingers were typing before he’d even thought it through.

             Problematic Changeling (Liam): Prove your own worth. You don’t need someone hand-holding you through life.

           Pledged Companion (Trousle): I DON’T SEE WHY NOT. THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH NEEDING ASSISTANCE, BOTH IN GENERAL AND *ESPECIALLY* WHEN EVERYONE AROUND YOU CAN DO THINGS YOU CANNOT.

           Proxy Child (Alex): Ya’ll both have points, just ain’t sure. I might have to try writing or RP’ing her a little to figure out what kind of person she is. Have to get a feel for her first, y’know?

           Devising Machinations (Keith): That’s fine by me. No pressure ^^

           Pledged Companion (Trousle): YES, NO REASON TO STRESS ABOUT IT, YOU’VE GOT AT LEAST A WEEK! YOU’LL COME UP WITH SOMETHING GREAT!

           Proxy Child (Alex): Thanks dudes.

           Proxy Child (Alex): I really like your character btw, Liam. Kinda wish I’d come up with that first XD It’s relatable, y’know? Though maybe a little too close to home anyways, ya’ll ain’t my therapists. Can’t wait to see how you play them out.

           Problematic Changeling (Liam): It’s going to be awesome, naturally. Are you sure you can keep up with me?

           Proxy Child (Alex): Honey, I don’t think you know what kind of angst machine you’re dealing with here >:3c

           Pointy Combatant (Oozy): oh boy thisll be fun

           Pledged Companion (Trousle): GUYS I’M PUTTING YOU ON MUTE. I’M KEEPING EVERYONE UP. GOODNIGHT! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

           Pointy Combatant (Oozy): night trus

           Pointy Combatant (Oozy): also you should just play every single class at once

           Pointy Combatant (Oozy): itd be HISSterical

           Devising Machinations (Keith): XD Dude. No. Just no. Also, you’re ripping that off from Puffing Forest

           Pointy Combatant (Oozy): lies and slander

           Problematic Changeling (Liam): You watch it *while we game* sometimes. I’m half deaf and I can still hear it!

           Pointy Combatant (Oozy): it aint my fault you take 5ever on turns sometimes

           Problematic Changeling (Liam): Well SOME of us know how to strategize.

           Pointy Combatant (Oozy): yeah, trus

           Proxy Child (Alex): PFFFFFT. Oozy omg. XD But I oughta go to bed. I’ve got work tomorrow. Sleep tight ya’ll!

           Devious Machinations (Keith): Niiiight!

           Problematic Changeling (Liam): I’ll get you back for that Oozy. But really, I’m looking forward to this. It’s been a while since we got fresh blood in.

             The last time they had was Trousle. Being the only bitty and the youngest of the group, they hadn’t been friends with him nearly as long as with each other, but he was still quite fun to have around. He was starting to grow on Liam, honestly. Liam had to respect his relentless optimism, at least to a degree. Albeit, Papython in general tended to be unwaveringly positive, but it seemed deeper than the surface-level sugar of some of his breed.

             Pointy Combatant (Oozy): sleep sounds good actually. Night

           Devising Machinations (Keith): Saaaame. Night everyone

           Problematic Changeling (Liam): Goodnight.

             Liam put the phone back and turned the heat off on the blanket, putting it over his head and settling in for the night. He was grateful that his wing tended to be pretty quiet; he never could sleep well with noise, lights, or too much movement, though the pillows muffled the vibrations in the ground nicely. No one was going to come anyways, not this late. Even if they did, he was a light enough sleeper to wake up and bite before the other even knew what hit them. He drifted to sleep alternating between contemplating his DnD character, and imagining hunting a deer.

[sadviper]

2020 Creator Wrap: Favorite Works

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Succumbing to peer pressure, haha, thank you @rain-hat, @smylealong, @ibelongtomousse, @macgyver-sheriff, @avauntus for tagging me~

It seems the common refrain is that this was the year everyone exploded into massive creative productivity after years of nothing, which is the exact same story for myself. I had read all the strategies of course: write 5 min a day, 1 sketch a day, don’t think about quality, do *something* just to keep the spark alive, etc etc, but it just got worse and worse. Honestly, I had been feeling so dire about it that I had made up my mind to stop trying anymore, because it was so depressing to try and fail so many times that it was much better to not hope at all.

Buuuuut.....then quarantine and telework happened, and woooah, guess what, all I needed was LOTS of time and space to myself where I’m not wasting it in an office checking emails and doing random training to fill all the downtime!!!

Much thanks to the serendipity that had me stumbling into @rain-hat , reading her early JY/KSR fics, and her encouraging me to go ahead and write that office yearly budget oneshot for TKEM (who writes BUDGET fics?? Who reads them???? lol). That’s not in my list here because it was very new and awkward, it was definitely the ball that got everything rolling.

Cut for super long-winded rambling:

1) Before There Was Zero (TKEM)

This was my first big fanfic in my life, and my most popular, and it absolutely gushed out of me in this massive torrent of *I MUST WRITE* where I would walk around at lunchtime giggling to myself, and type on my phone as I went, or wake up at 1am to scrawl something in a notebook in the dark because I couldn’t stop the words from coming. (How I miss that feeling now! ;__;) Actually, it also is the 2nd fully complete long-form story I had ever completed as well, so...lots of milestones here.

Looking back, it clearly was the product of my years of bottled up silence, where I stewed and dragged myself to the office every day wondering if I was going to calcify in a bureaucracy for the rest of my life (yes). But even as an office drone, I learned a lot of valuable lessons in how to manage, what leadership actually is at the worker bee level, the types of games white-collar workers play, and how to be a decent co-worker (and by extension, a decent human being--I don’t believe it’s possible to separate work life and private life. All your personas are you). It wasn’t all a waste after all!

Somehow I connected my day-to-day to the faceless, long-suffering Royal guardsmen in TKEM, headed by the utterly gorgeous, devastating, thoroughly underutilized, comedic prop military action star Jo Yeong, and thought--yeah! :D

2) Nil Desperandum (TKEM)

My biggest fic by far, full novel length at this point, massive in scope, I don’t even know how I came up with it based on the 10 collective seconds of screen time that Jeong Tae-ra and tyrant Jin got as a joke, but I was clearly still on that dam-gushing-pent-up-creative-high because this idea was fighting me when I was in the middle of writing “Before There Was Zero”.

I actually figured out the title while watching “Call the Midwives” where one of the peppy, indefatigable British nurses said to never despair, and I thought, yes, that’s it. All the horrible things I put my tyrantverse characters through, it was only so that when I save them at the end, it will be completely worth it. It’s a bit more violent (nothing beyond My Country levels tho) and quite emotionally dark, but I also tried to inject a lot of friendship, humor, and love into it as well, because there must always be hope.

For My Country fandom friends who didn’t realize, the tyrant!Yeong in this fic is essentially modernAU!Seon-ho, and I lifted Sung-rok entirely from My Country to be tyrant!Yeong’s second-in-command and loyal-superstar-extraordinaire. Writing them in this modern AU, and seeing the positive reception to Sung-rok’s grouchy, dogged devotion was the start of my love spiral for Sung-rok. <3 <3

3) The Veritable Records of King Taejo (My Country)

Going to cheat and lump 3 fics (soon to be 4) into one link. I rested a little bit after “Nil Desperandum” because I had completely emptied myself out at that point, just a husk of an author shell. Then I started poking out oneshots! Each one got progressively harder to write, lol, the creative gas tank was running out of juice, so I had to really start figuring out new strategies as a writer to keep going. One magic tool was coercing recruiting @rain-hat to beta for me, and WOW, THE BEST???? Who would’ve thought it’d be FUN to be edited!!! <3 Due to her efforts, I could avoid the “no beta we die like Liaodong” tag, hahaha.

I grew up watching cop shows, lawyer shows, monster-of-the-day shows, endless procedurals-- so I was super miffed that the drama would imply that Seon-ho spent YEARS just single-mindedly chasing private armies??! No! I want more family and friends development for this sad, dramatic whump child! I want him to be smarter than the show, inherently brilliant despite the stupid he descends into, and be recognized as such by the people who do recognize his value! And I want them all to be happy with no pointless death!

Also, the 4th WIP is now a Sung-rok lovefest written as an ode to his awesomeness, has stretched to 47K+ words, and is being an absolute royal pain to finish. ;__; All the ease and creative fervor from earlier? GONE. I’m a lone salmon flopping upstream on a ladder. I might get eaten before I finish laying my eggs. Any one have tips to get over this?

4) First Translation of Woo Do Hwan Japanese Interviews

More firsts! So much thanks to @ibelongtomousse to inspiring and encouraging me to do some real translating after talking to her about her sublime TKEM fics and translations thereof, and @staidwaters from emerging from the Internet depths to boost/correct my neophyte efforts! I’m now chomping at the bit to do more, even though I may ultimately discover that these interviews have absolutely nothing interesting to say, lol. But my first priority is simply to get better at the language, and 2nd priority is to soak in the words (and photos) of Woo Do Hwan, hahahah. Also, as far as I can tell, no one is filling this niche, so I guess I’ll keep going??

5) Fanart!

I started drawing again! As a procrastination tactic from writing oneshots, but it still was really nice to see that I hadn’t lost the touch entirely. I feel like I’ve mentioned this here and there, but writing wasn’t my first interest--drawing was. Animals first, then people once I discovered anime/manga. I went all into drawing comics, only to face the hard reality that I didn’t know how to tell a story end-to-end. Hence how I started trying to write. Along the way, things happened--I got RSI and had to stop drawing/writing for awhile. I discovered that pictures are NOT worth a thousand words, esp when it comes to long-form comics; my preferred tools of trade (dip pens) ended up exacerbating my RSI problems; then once I got a handle on my RSI, I found I could type faster than I can ever draw, and so here I am. I saw what @convenientalias was doing with their My Country werewolf fic though, so I am excited to try that for my Sung-rok WIP? :D

I think I’m the last hold out among artist/writer friends in answering this wrap-up, hope you enjoyed reading!

[spiritualguidancecentersite]

Why You Should Spend More Time Thinking About tarot cards associated with greek gods

Irish psychics are one of the popular psychics in the world. To their credit, Irish Psychics are renowned for their psychic capabilities and fortune reading. Over the phone, Irish psychics provide totally free services for practically 5 minutes and for the later part of the service, they charge their clients depending upon the nature of services.

Among the most popular services Irish psychics offer is that of mediumship, where they link the dead with their loved ones and function as a messenger of communication. An intriguing service which they provide is live psychics, in which specialist interacts live online with the customer and solves his questions. Other services such as card reading, astrology, numerology, and a lot more likewise used by them. Irish psychics are also offered to the customers on their smart phones communicating them their everyday, weekly and other regular challenges and supplying assistance to direct their lives. Spiritual churches have also been developed where these psychics use their services and use an appropriate spiritual channel. Individuals willingly share their reviews after getting services from Irish psychics which are available to access.

An intriguing phenomenon found in Irish psychics is that there are families where the understanding of psychics is practiced from generations to generations. The brand names of psychic services have actually been called after the household names. This practice strengthens the trustworthiness as well as the significance of the work on part of the psychic.

Modern world, particularly the industrialized nations are claimed to have exceeded the superstitious thinks which are slammed to hinder the advancement of mankind and orthodox countries are considered as third world nations. On the other hand, in a country like Ireland, psychics and mediums are popular. This shows that human beings have inherent desire to believe in the immaterial world and fear the unidentified. Technological improvement has yet not removed this human desire and it is prevalent throughout the world regardless of the nations' success on the planet. Ireland has many research centers dealing with the understanding of psychics which may open brand-new gates to the unidentified reality.

Know in advance what you want the psychic to focus on. Be encouraged that some psychics will ask for your name, date of birth and your concern. If they ask any more than that, they most probably aren't psychic and you need to believe seriously about hanging up.

Compose down the name of https://sites.google.com/view/the-psychic-center/ the phone psychic network, the name of the psychic and their extension number if they have one. Make a note of the date you called, the questions you asked, and the answers the phone psychic gave you. You may be extremely surprised at the precision of the phone psychic and you might want to call back.

3. Don't "test" the phone psychic by giving false info. Doing so is a waste of your money and time. It can also result in incorrect or unreliable answers in your online psychic reading. Those false or unreliable answers actually have the power to impact your life in an unfavorable method.

4. All live psychic readings are not produced equivalent. Each phone psychic has their own specific design of reading. Some will ask you questions. Some will ask you absolutely nothing. Some usage tarot cards. Some utilize no tools whatsoever. You can normally get a good feel for the psychic's reading design beforehand by reading their bio and feedback. Bear in mind that even if a live online psychic can tell you what is currently going on in your life, does not imply that their forecasts will become a reality. Compassionate people can feel what you're feeling and inform you about it. While that may make you feel much better in the minute, aren't you calling a live psychic to get predictions about the future? Would not you rather find out what lies ahead rather than simply having somebody confirm your sensations? It depends on you, of course, however when picking a live online psychic for a phone reading, it's valuable to clarify within yourself what your ultimate goal actually is.

Live online psychic readings are a type of home entertainment. Online psychic readings can become extremely addictive, and you might find yourself desiring to call phone psychic after phone psychic in search of hearing whatever it is you desire to hear.

[moneypedia]

By Drew Shepherd

“You’re so judgmental!!!”

That’s the response I get when I delve a little too deep into my analytical side.

I’m somewhat of a perfectionist myself, so it’s no surprise that I hold others to my own lofty standards. And that’s one of many flaws I’m still working on.

There are certain times, however, when I’m unapologetic in my ways. And as you can see by the title of this article, this is one of those times.

The ability to screen out promiscuous women is one of the most valuable skills any man can have. It keeps you from wasting precious resources on a girl who couldn’t care less about you, and it protects you from being yet another clueless man in the dark.

A girl who sleeps around is never a good choice for your investment. And no matter what our culture tries to prove, the truth is that past sexual experience will always affect future relationships for the worse.

That’s why I created this list of 15 red flags to look for when you evaluate a potential partner.

This list is by no means exhaustive, and I’m sure there are plenty more signs you should be aware of too. But this one is intended to be a relatively quick check, and I’ve tried to limit it to signs you can notice within a few weeks at the most, or that you can easily find out with a scan of her social media.

Now I’m sure both you and I will catch some flak here for being “judgmental”, but remember, it’s not wrong to look out for your own interests. And in order to protect those interests, you need to discern the character of the people closest to you.

Being judgmental is assuming people’s character based on qualities outside their control. Discernment is deducing their character based on info they freely provide.

Only a fool would need a DNA test on an apple tree to confirm what it is…

Smart people just look at the fruit.

The 15 Red Flags Every Man Should Know

#1 She can’t stay at home. / She’s a party girl.

What it means: She needs excitement.

If she can’t enjoy a quiet night at home, walk away.

These kind of girls seem fun and interesting at first, but their lifestyle gets old fast. Plus there’s no telling how many intoxicated guys have taken their shot at her.

So find a girl who would rather read a book, watch a TV show, work out at home, cook a new meal, or talk to her friends on the phone.

“But that doesn’t sound like fun…”

No, most guys would say it doesn’t. But you know what’s more important than fun in relationships?

Stability.

A girl who runs out of her place every night has a need for excitement. And that need will find a way to bite you.

Sure, everything will be great when you’re both in a good mood, but what happens when she gets bored, or worse, when she’s unhappy?

If she needed excitement before she met you she will need it afterwards. And those thrills won’t be limited to a few drinks with the girls.

Most people are plenty fun when you get to know them anyway. So instead of worrying about that, ask yourself some more important questions:

Will she be there during a rough patch in your life?

Will she say “no” when a bigger fish comes along?

Does she avoid situations where she’ll be unnecessarily tempted?

Those are the questions you want answered (indirectly of course—actions speak louder than words).

Work on all those first. Then you can talk about fun.

#2 She has too many male friends.

What it means: She’s addicted to male attention.

Notice I said friends here and not acquaintances.

There’s nothing wrong with a woman having a conversation with a man. And if you do have a problem with that, you’re too possessive. A woman making small talk with her male coworker isn’t cause for concern.

But if she has close relationships to other guys, and she consistently talks to them about personal issues, that’s when you should be worried.

The true number of platonic male-female relationships is very small, and most of them only exist due to special circumstances.

But for the most part, men and women do not just become friends.

The truth is that the two sexes are equal, but different. And it’s tough for us to form close bonds outside of a romantic or sexual relationship.

Any girl who has tons of guy friends is bad news because almost all of them are attracted to her. And since she hasn’t made an effort to turn them down, it means she’s addicted to their attention.

If you don’t meet the requirements of such a popular girl, she’ll eagerly pick a replacement from her pool of waiting “friends”.

#3 She has tattoos or piercings on interior body parts.

What it means: She’s impulsive.

I’ve never been a fan of tattoos, so I wouldn’t look for a significant other who has any. But this red flag is more about the positioning of the ones she has.

If a girl has tattoos or piercings on any interior body parts (i.e. her upper thighs, torso, etc.), it is not a good sign. And here are only a few reasons why:

Someone had to put it there

People don’t get tattoos to cover them up

She makes long-term decisions based on short-term results

It’s just a terrible choice all around. Why would you taint the natural beauty you have with a man-made distraction?

It doesn’t make sense to me.

But in a way, I guess you should be happy when you see a girl like this. She’s made your job easy by effectively saying, “Don’t take me serious.”

#4 She’s a (moderate to heavy) drinker. / She does recreational drugs.

What it means: She allows unnecessary temptation.

Contrary to popular belief, human beings are not inherently good. And when given the choice, we will always be inclined to do what’s morally wrong.

Many times our conscious thought overrides this inclination, but whenever alcohol or drugs are involved, that inhibition goes out the window.

The point here is related to the first red flag about party girls—she allows herself to be tempted. And why would you ever trust a girl who intentionally lowers her self-control?

You are playing with fire and you know it.

Yes, crimes like theft will always be wrong, but we all have a responsibility to lock our doors.

#5 She’s a man hater. / She tests you to see if you’re man enough.

What it means: She lacks healthy relationships with the men in her life.

“All men are blah blah blah…”

“Guys only care about blah blah blah…”

“Men don’t deserve blah blah blah blah blah…”

Yeah, it’s annoying.

Man haters are the worst. I understand that some of us really are terrible, but if every guy she meets is like that, take a look at the common denominator.

Yes, I’m tough on the opposite sex sometimes, but even I know that there are fantastic women out there.

You can’t let the good ones convince you that all girls are sweet and innocent, and you can’t let the bad ones blind you to the praiseworthy women either.

The same is true about our side.

So if a girl always complains about the men in her life, she’s either still bitter about a failed relationship, or she presents herself as an object for men to lust after.

#6 She can’t put her phone down. / She’s addicted to social media.

What it means: She craves attention and drama.

The online version of too many male friends.

A smart girl knows that male attention doesn’t result from her “amazing personality”.

The number of friends and likes she gets is directly proportional to how attractive people think she is.

This stuff is honestly common sense by now but you still see the same thing all the time. A fairly attractive girl only has to post a few pictures, and boom, she’s got 50 dudes trying to hit her up.

She probably won’t give any of them the time of day—unless one of them is like, so hot—but at least she got her daily attention fix. Plus she’s found a new group of reliable “friends” to support her.

It’s ridiculous. And don’t even get me started on the drama.

If she’s more interested in her phone than she is in you, don’t try to change her mind.

#7 She’s comfortable in revealing clothes. / She’s insensitive to male touch.

What it means: She’s used to it.

Do you really think she dresses that way for you?

Do you honestly believe it’s normal for guys to hug and hold her like it’s no big deal?

She’s used to it, man. And even if she isn’t promiscuous now, it won’t take much effort for her to get that way.

But going back to her style of dress, you might believe her choice of clothes doesn’t matter anymore. You think that times have changed, and this girl is different. So different in fact that she’s above all of human nature.

Yeah, keep believing that.

The reality is that men are visual creatures. And both men and women instinctively know that the way a women dresses determines the type of attention she gets.

Our society doesn’t like to acknowledge that fact nowadays, so we try to ignore it as best as we can.

Instead, we say she has high self esteem, that she deserves to show off her body. And if you don’t like it, you’re living in the past.

But please don’t buy the “I’m-proud-of-my-body-so-I-need-to-be-half-naked” excuse.

People who are comfortable with a fit body, or great wealth, or whatever else they have don’t feel the need to show it off. They rest assured in the knowledge that it’s there.

The only people who show off are the ones who need validation. And they always need it from multiple people.

So if any girl shows too much skin, or if she’s fine with being hugged or touched any kind of way, you need to reconsider.

#8 She believes that things just happen. / She follows her heart. / She’s in love with “love” and relationships.

What it means: She lacks emotional control.

These girls are tricky for inexperienced guys, so let me explain.

It feels great at first to be the focus of a girl’s undying love. And the highs of having a beautiful woman enraptured by you is something straight outta the movies.

But guess what?

You will never be the only one.

You just happen to be her drug of the month. And all it takes is a more attractive or manipulative man to change her loyalties.

That is the dark reality of girls who “follow their heart.”

So instead of chasing a girl who’s crazy….about you, find a girl who tempers her heart with her head.

Don’t be afraid of love. Just make sure it’s the real thing first.

#9 She uses profanity.

What it means: She doesn’t value purity.

I don’t like profanity.

Sure, I went through a phase where it was cool to sprinkle in some “sentence enhancers”, but even then it still felt wrong.

Pure speech is something I value now, and it really does bother me to hear people—male or female—casually drop f-bombs. I don’t give them a stare or anything, but I know that profanity usually indicates that something is off in your life.

That’s one reason why I never use profanity on this site. Out of all the posts on HFE, I haven’t used a single curse word, and I plan to keep it that way.

But getting back to the meaning of this red flag, it just shows a lack of class.

If a girl doesn’t have the decency to control something as simple as her conversation, think about how ugly the rest of her lifestyle is.

#10 She’s friends with known promiscuous women. / She takes an interest in promiscuous celebrities.

What it means: She won’t be shamed for sleeping around, and she will probably be encouraged to do so.

Men compartmentalize their friends.

Of course not every guy is the same, but usually he’ll have his videogame pals, his college study group, his boys from work, his basketball squad, his fantasy football crew, and so on.

And what’s funny about all these friend buckets is that they usually include men from all walks of life.

You’ll have a mix of low income guys, wealthy guys, smart guys, dumb guys, you get the point. But as long as they all have that one thing in common, they don’t really care about much else.

Women are different.

Almost every girl I know has friends who are very similar to her. Everything from the way they dress, to the grades they get, to the income they earn, to the guys they like, and even their political stance—it’s almost always the same.

While men care more about the one activity they have in common, women focus more on similar lifestyles.

And now you see where I’m going.

You may not be able to tell if she sleeps around, but if you know her friends do, it’s a giant red flag.

Even if this girl is completely innocent, she knows her friends won’t look down on her if she does indulge, and that’s why she’s surrounded herself with them.

It’s even worse if she takes an interest in promiscuous celebrities. They’re just like her friends who get around but with additional influence and social status.

If [blank] can do [blank] and still be [blank], why can’t she?

#11 She uses New Age lingo. / She’s into horoscopes.

What it means: She won’t take responsibility for her actions.

If you meet a girl who always goes on about people’s “energy”, the workings of karma, or the meaning behind her horoscope, you need to run and run quickly.

I have numerous reasons why I wouldn’t get with a girl like this, but one of the more practical ones is that she won’t take responsibility for anything.

The stars are what drive her behavior, and she will be justified in spiting you because her negative-energy-sense was tingling.

It’s bad enough dealing with people who can’t control their impulses, but if she truly believes that “the universe” is causing her actions, avoid her at all costs.

#12 She has no discernible skills outside of her physical appearance.

What it means: She’s going down the wrong career path.

Everyone needs money. And if that need is not met, people will resort to all kinds of evil to meet it.

If this particular girl doesn’t have any marketable skills outside of being “hot”, she is going down the wrong road.

Eventually she will…

A. Find some way to make money off her appearance

B. Get bailed out by another man, or…

C. Be left in a financial hole when her beauty fades

Now you could argue that A wouldn’t be too bad of a scenario depending on the work involved (e.g. innocent modeling), but none of these are favorable to her developing a solid set of skills when she had the chance.

Not only has she put herself in a position where her beauty can be abused, but she’s also shown that she’s fine with being a drain on people’s resources.

That’s not good.

Everyone needs a strong work ethic, no matter who they are. And if she doesn’t have one, she’ll be pressured into compromising situations.

#13 She rushes the relationship. / She’s a little too perfect. / She tries too hard to seem like a good match.

What it means: She’s overcompensating.

Another tricky one here.

The average guy won’t deal with many girls like this, but the name of this site isn’t Hunger for Average, so you need to look out for this one.

As you start to care more about your appearance and get your life in order, you’ll notice that girls will seemingly come out of nowhere. And the ones you were invisible to before will make it obvious that they’re interested.

Sounds great right?

But the problem is that some of these girls won’t have the best intentions.

Almost every semi-attractive girl has been treated like a princess her whole life (and that’s one reason why a man who’s trained himself to be immune to beauty is so attractive to them).

But the side effect of this treatment is that many women expect partiality from every guy they meet. So now when they see you—a man who’s in good shape and has his life together—they don’t see a person, but rather, a tool who has the means to carry “her highness” through life.

This is particularly an issue with a girl in her late 20’s or early 30’s. Her internal clock is ticking and she knows she has to find a man before her beauty fades.

But you can’t let her clock dictate your life.

People get burned all the time by making hasty choices. And it’s a known manipulation tactic to rush people into big decisions.

Yes, there will be girls who genuinely like you, and they’ll be eager to start something special together. But you need to be aware of the other scenario too.

Beauty doesn’t get ignored. And if an attractive girl hasn’t locked down a man by this time in her life, it’s very possible that she used her beauty for other means when she was younger, and now she’s scrambling to find a man who doesn’t know any better.

Of course this isn’t always the case. Breakups happen and some people just have an unfortunate streak with relationships. But barring any significant change to her appearance, and without any other special cause, the former is a real possibility.

Remember that your interests are important too. And you are not obligated to take any dude’s leftovers simply because she needs a man now.

“But she’s changed! She’s not like that anymore! And she’s committed to doing better!”

That’s great. And I applaud her. But that doesn’t mean you owe her a relationship.

I’m all for acceptance and forgiveness, but I also know that forgiveness isn’t the removal of all consequences.

#14 She accuses you of being promiscuous, or worse, tries to prove you are.

What it means: She’s telling you how she would act if she was in your position (a.k.a. projection).

A girl who makes accusations like this doesn’t understand how any decent looking person could say no to their suitors. Especially since she could never hope to do the same.

You’re just a stupid boy who couldn’t possibly deny easy pleasure, and it’s her job to prove that assumption right.

It’s all so silly.

I’ve dealt with girls who tried to find faults that weren’t there and I had a real good laugh afterwards.

But while it is funny that a former acne-faced, overweight, emo guy would have to convince anyone he’s not about that life, I am very serious about guarding my integrity.

So if any girl accuses me of something like this, I know we need to part ways.

#15 Your gut tells you so.

What it means: You’re not comfortable with her.

Attraction is weird.

The first time anyone sees a person they like, comfort is nowhere to be found. There’s excitement, there’s anxiety, and there’s interest—not comfort.

But that all changes as time goes by.

The more you get to know someone, the more comfortable you feel around them.

The guy you thought was an antisocial creep just happens to be the life of the party. The girl you thought was such a snob before is actually kind and warm-hearted. And this new familiarity generally leads to more comfort.

But if time passes and you still don’t feel comfortable around this girl, it’s a bad sign. Your body is subconsciously telling you that something about her is off. And you know deep down that you can’t trust her.

“But didn’t you just make fun of girls and their ‘negative-energy-sense’? So how is it okay for guys to do the same thing?”

Because what I’m talking about here isn’t just a feeling. What I’m describing are physiological changes that happen solely because of this person.

Yes, it sounds far-fetched, but if you are fine around every person except her, something is wrong. And I’m not talking about a few butterflies in the stomach here.

If you start breaking a sweat when she shows up, if your sleep schedule suddenly changes, and if you’re always on your toes around her, your body is in alert mode. And instead of being able to work, or perfect your craft, or do anything else, you will constantly be thinking about her.

But again, don’t confuse this with some middle school crush obsession. This is about a girl who won’t give you any assurance that she is committed to you.

You will have to do everything to keep the relationship afloat, and that always leads to disaster. The minute you fall short in her eyes your worst fear will come true.

Of course you still want to be as attractive as possible to make her decision easy, but if the success of the relationship depends solely on you, find someone else.

Good leaders set an example for others and create a vision for the future…

They don’t do all the work.

Successful relationships will always take effort, but if you can’t relax at all with her, it’s a bad sign.

Weed ‘Em Out

So if you read this whole post, you’ve probably noticed a theme here.

All of these are signs that stem from a lack of one character trait:

Self-control.

This list is all about discerning if a girl has that one critical trait.

If she doesn’t have it, don’t try to change her, don’t make excuses for her, and please don’t waste time thinking about her. Just walk away.

And if you have a hard time doing that, ask yourself if you would help a man who acted the same way.

Sure, this may all seem cold-blooded, but when the stakes are this high, it’s always better to be safe than sorry. There is simply too much at risk when you choose a long term partner. And if you can’t trust someone you’ll eventually think about marrying, you need to end it as soon as possible.

No amount of beauty is worth the headache and embarrassment. If a woman’s actions show that she doesn’t respect you, move on and find a girl who does.

Just remember that nothing here is foolproof either. Some girls are crafty and they won’t show many of the signs listed here—but that’s okay.

The point isn’t to catch every girl who’s like this. The point is to save time by weeding out the easy ones. And once you do that, you’ll be closer to finding a girl who’s worth the investment.

So be smart, stay strong, and have a little fun too. It’s easy to get too serious about things like this, but keep a good attitude and you’ll be fine.

If you know what all to avoid, just imagine how much you can cherish a keeper.

-Drew

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 173

It was terribly difficult to get a speech written for the press conference coming up in… three hours from now. You’d been lingering over it all morning. Rhodey had gotten the first phone call over it- one of appreciation for his efforts, of course, and to check on his status. And then to ask him if he’d like to make it official. Him agreeing set another feeling of relief in motion. Knowing you had so many good people taking your spots… that made the thought of stepping back easier. It was also terribly funny. The thought of appointing him as the Avengers’ military liaison. When the two of you had met… he’d been doing the same thing for Stark Industries. And round the circle went...

While you and Tony had gotten caught up in thoughts of retirement you knew this was far more likely to be a changing of positions. The Avengers still needed a lot of help, even if it wasn’t physically fighting battles. You still had your own title with the UN, forced on you or not. And after a catastrophe like Sokovia, it wouldn’t look good for anybody if you just walked away. You had to still do PR work for them, and they still needed to be funded. But that was a far cry from early morning phone calls and being on the frontlines of world-ending events. 

...of course, you hoped no more of those would come knocking at earth’s door. But. The probability of them showing up from time to time was higher than them not. And. In the event that the Avengers needed to recall Team Iron… yes. Absolutely. You and Tony would never turn your backs so completely. How could you? That was what had started all of this, after all. Tony’s proclivity to make things right. His need to protect people. Sometimes even from things he’d created himself. 

A knock came on your home-office door, and Tony opened the door, standing half in the room. You looked up from your computer screen. He was already dressed. Smartly. Sharply, as always. Three piece suit. Dark silver slacks and a fitted suit jacket, black waist coat and button up shirt, and a maroon tie. His dark plaid pocket square was a little askew, but you’d have time to fix it before the two of you took the stage downstairs in the press room. 

You must have been staring, because his grin was a little knowing as he put one hand in his pocket and flicked his other arm up to make a show of checking his watch. “Thought I’d see how you were doing. It’s been an hour since you locked yourself in here. But. I can tell I’m distracting you.” 

“Immensely.” Smiling at him. You’d been caught. There was no need to hide your appreciation for just how incredibly handsome he was. “Who dressed you today? They did a fantastic job.” You hung your arm over the back of your computer chair, now putting your roving gaze on full display. 

“I dressed myself, thank you very much.” Hand to his chest for a moment, mocking the highest of offense. “Now- who picked out my suit- I can’t recall-” 

“Someone who has an eye for what you look good in, no doubt.” Grinning then. 

“Mn. She’s pretty good at it by now. Definitely has my unique flare locked down.” She being you. He moved out of the doorway to come closer to your desk, propping himself on the corner.

You made no attempts to hide your roving eyes yet again as you reached up to lightly pluck at one of the top buttons of his jacket. “I’ll have to send her a thank you card. You always look so good.” 

He leaned in as you tilted your head up to meet him, your noses brushing. “I’ll pass the message along.” Sealing the sentiment with a lingering, sweet kiss. A little hum traveling from his lips to yours. This was dangerous, and the two of you could very well end up being late for the press conference. You also ran a high risk of ruining his nicely tailored and finely picked out suit. The thing that was getting the both of you in trouble. When you found the strength to part he threatened it all over again as he wore a small smirk on the edge of his lips. “Oh. Honey. Got a message for you- there seems to be a secret admirer for your talents of fashion-” 

You silenced him with another kiss, one that half missed its mark as it was marred by his chuckling, but you put a stop to that pretty soon. Turning the laughter into some warm and breathy noise, replacing his ever-present sass with a more inherent need. It was hard to shut him up. 

That was yet another one of your unique talents where he was concerned. You were sure he knew. 

                                                               ---

The pair of you were a stylish yet somewhat dour match at the front of the Stark Industries media room. You matched his suit with a fitted, long sleeved houndstooth dress, with thick steel gray trim at the hem. Your pops of dark red came in the form of ruby drop earrings and a heart-shaped necklace you were overly fond of. 

The press had been buzzing for an hour waiting for your arrival. Most of your speech was not drafted, which was dangerous. But you couldn’t linger on it any longer. You had a base. The rest would have to come from somewhere deep inside you. ...just hopefully not too deep. 

“The loss of life that occurred in Sokovia forty-eight hours ago is a devastation unlike anything the earth has seen. And the loss of land is something that had previously been unfathomable.” Statistics came up on your prompter that you read over, trying not to wane while you called out the known casualties. The known injured. Even while the Avengers had tried their best to save lives… it was never a zero sum. Never. 

“The Stark Relief Foundation is on the scene currently, rehousing, rehoming- trying to find a place for every person that lost theirs in that terrible battle. In times like this it’s important to come together. It’s important to see through the fog of war and remember that we are one planet. We need to look out for each other. Take care of each other. That’s why I’m looking forward to discussions with the nations of the globe on a solution for the people of Sokovia. Sokovians didn’t have much, but I know they would have helped if it were anywhere else.” 

It was as important to mention that Stark Industries (and the Avengers by extension) were running clean up. And not so much mention it was clean up of a mess that maybe had been potentially caused by them. It was important to call out the need to come together, and to bring leaders into the narrative, so that they would have to call. So that they would have to do something. Otherwise be labeled as the ones who failed to act during an international crisis. You knew you couldn’t count on anyone’s blind charity. Forcing them was the only option. 

“The Sokovians have faced real horrors. It is going to take a lot of time to heal. While we are glad that the Avengers were there to assist them, I have to make special mention of Colonel James Rhodes. He is a highly decorated officer who has been a valuable asset to several missions as of late- this one especially. It’s why I’m pleased to appoint him our new military liaison. I know with his guidance and with his knowledge, we can build a much needed bridge between the authorities of the world and the Avengers- the Avengers who without fear and without hesitation charge into every catastrophe that calls upon them.” 

This speech might have been better given by someone that wasn’t part of the Avengers. But there was no one else to give it. Even if there was- your team wasn’t one person after all- they didn’t want to. This seemed to always be something that you had to do. And you’d still have to do it. Even when you and Tony announced that you’d be stepping away. ...which wouldn’t be a public affair. That would be a team discussion. And maybe even less of a discussion and more just… telling each individual. When the time was right. Which would be sooner than you were comfortable with. But you had to just do it. Or else you might not ever. 

                                                              ---

The next day, in your brand new office at the brand new Avengers Facility, while you were busy wading through damage reports and expense reports and emails and email reports- ...okay it was getting a little ridiculous. Like it always did after a huge incident- 

There came a hesitant knock at your door. And an even more hesitant man behind it. Clint, in fact. Who put his hands in his pockets and hung his head a little. “Do you have a minute?” 

Already you knew what this was about. This bastard was going to do it before you. Talk about guts. You stopped your keystrokes. “Sure. What’s up?” 

He shut the door behind him, only more confirmation of what was about to happen. And then he came to sit in front of your desk, putting his hands in front of him. Cloudy. Thinking. Thinking about how to- “You know. I rehearsed this a thousand times in my head. It was supposed to be really simple.” His smile was self deprecating. And a little sad. 

Yours suddenly matched. “You’re leaving, huh?” 

“That obvious?” He glanced up at you suddenly but his surprise faded quickly. “-yeah. Guess it would be.” To you, he meant. And meant nothing by it, either. 

“You have kids. And another one on the way. Something I had no idea about. I can’t imagine how Laura does it.” 

“She’s stronger than me, that’s for sure.” 

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Grinning a little wryly. He seemed to appreciate the humor. “You tell anyone else yet?” 

“Nat knows.” Obviously she did. Nat knew everything about him. They were closer than you’d ever be with either of them. That was fine. “But. I wanted to come to you first.” 

“Why me?” Not that it mattered. But really, you hadn’t considered yourself high on the list of people Clint would tell that he was leaving. At least not the first after Natasha. 

He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh as his head tilted. “Well… you kinda run things around here.” Part of you wanted to reject this. Wanted to also follow it up with not for long. But that wouldn’t even be true. “And. You look out for us. I know I haven’t said as much but. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. And for the team. I don’t think they appreciate it as much. How much you put yourself out there. So we don’t have to.” 

Someone like Clint would be the one to openly admire the benefits that came with something like that. It was true. For someone who hid almost all of his private life. Someone who wanted nothing to do with the fame that came with being a superhero. Someone who just wanted to do what was right- ...and then not get caught holding the aftermath the way you had to- 

His aforementioned appreciation was just that. And it was deep. 

“Tony and I are used to it.” Deflection came as a natural reflex. Out of everyone on your team, you and Tony were the most used to being media darlings. Or being the ones everyone loved to hate. Either way. It was a life you knew.

“Doesn’t mean you had to. Doesn’t mean you had to do any of what you’re doing right now.” 

You felt a little helpless as he looked at you. “Someone had to.” 

“And we’re lucky it was you.” 

You couldn’t recall a time Clint had ever been this candid with you. But, if he really was leaving, maybe this was the best time for it. To get out everything the two of you had never had the chance to. Your smile was small but you couldn’t help it. “Thanks, Clint. Will you at least send me some baby pictures?” 

At this he laughed. “Sure. Why not? Maybe it’ll give Stark some ideas.” 

Your hand came straight up. “Don’t start. Or I’ll rescind my blessing.” 

“I’ll still leave.” He grinned as he stood. 

“But it won’t be as nice as it just was.” You stood after him and offered your hand across the desk. 

He considered it. For almost too long a time. But finally he gave you a shake. And right in the middle of it he gave you a more serious look. “You and Stark consider going down that road yet?” Apparently before Clint left, he needed to be sure of this. 

“We’ve talked about it.” Not so much specifically having kids, but, about having a life. Which you were a few weeks out from attempting. And still not ready to tell anyone. 

“Don’t talk for too long.” He held your hand still then. “Opportunities don’t come often.” 

“No they don’t.” Agreeing with him. It certainly wasn’t now or never. But… That moment was getting awfully close. 

                                                              ---

Over the next handful of days, the Facility really started coming to life. Some of the team had gotten a little more settled in their personal private quarters. Damage Control also had their own host of barracks- which you weren’t sure how you felt about. The Avengers had never been about trying to recreate SHEILD. And the way they marched around campus wasn’t all that convincing that someone wasn’t pulling the strings while you had your back turned but…

You couldn’t control everything. You didn’t want to anymore, in fact. So you had to let that go. It helped to have experienced agents in the field, when you dispatched them. When you needed them. So. ...maybe it was a necessary evil. You tried hard not to think about it. 

Instead you focused on your meeting with legal that afternoon, and promptly afterwards you dropped down to the science labs. Alight with excitement and activity. There was one person you were there to see specifically, and she seemed to be hosting a mini-lecture, talking strongly about things that went right over your head in concerns to her research. You politely waited for her to finish and clear her assistants out, and once she did-

“Helen, can I have a word with you?” You felt a little nervous, but had no inclination to show it. 

That she even still wanted to be here after everything that had happened to her was a miracle. But… you suspected what you were offering- or about to- had a lot to do with it. “We’re running on borrowed time.” 

“Don’t I know it.” Joking. But it seemed to miss its mark. She gave you a polite smile and nothing more. So you quickly moved on. Plopping a hefty folder down, you pushed it her way over the table. “We’re done drawing up the documents to merge Stark Industries and U-GIN. It’s less about us and more about you. We’d like to offer you a permanent position here. As head of bio-organic sciences for the Avengers.” 

She made a play at not being so intrigued. It failed, but she probably had no idea. “Is that so? What are you offering?” 

“Your own labs. Your own funding. Public backing. We just ask that when the Avengers need help you give it.” That was really more what this was about. Her tech had been instrumental in helping the team. In keeping some of them alive even. It was useful. And they needed it. Not everyone was a Super Soldier. 

Opening the folder, she flipped through a few of the pages. She was an extremely smart woman, smarter than you would ever hope to be, but even you knew that telltale glaze of the eyes when faced with legalese. “What about housing?” 

This- ...this you hadn’t considered. “Uh- it’s not in the official documents. But, if you want something here, we’d be happy to accommodate you.” 

As suddenly as she’d opened it, she snapped the folder shut, putting her hand on top of it and looking directly at you. “I’ll be very straight with you. I need stability. If you offer that I’ll stay.” 

Seeing as how you had nothing to lose by doing so, you nodded. “Sure. Tell me what you need.” 

“I don’t want quarters here. I need a house. I have a son and… I’m sure you can imagine that life going back and forth from labs hasn’t been easy on him.” She softened then, and there was a sheen of guilt that ghosted her. Worried she was a bad mother, perhaps. 

“I had no idea.” 

“Not many people do. And I’d like to keep it that way, as well.” 

You almost shrugged. But this was a little bit more important than a casual conversation. This was everything to her. You had money to throw around that no one else on the planet did. Sometimes that slipped by you. Terrible though it was. “Sure. A house. And confidentiality. We can provide all that.” 

Hearing your agreement, and trusting you for that matter, she eased up. Her smile was a little more real. “Alright then. I’ll sign.” 

“Great. Glad to hear it.” The meeting was over. So you thought you probably should leave. She’d hand in the documents to Pepper or somebody else who would then hand them to legal for processing- but- “What’s your son’s name?” 

At this she really did brighten. It was easy to see- she loved her work. She loved being a scientist. But she loved him more. A feeling maybe one day you would know… “Amadeus. He’s twelve.” 

“I bet he takes after you.” 

Now she was grinning. “You have no idea.” 

                                                              ---

Tony had introduced you to your quarters that night. While you weren’t excited at the idea of living there, and clearly neither was he, it was still nice to have a home away from home away from… well, if the two of you could actually get it together enough to make an actual home… maybe that’s why it felt so bad. The penthouse suite of the Tower wasn’t supposed to be your home either. You didn’t want to get too attached to the lofty Facility living space that Tony had put aside for the two of you. And there was always the danger that you would. 

It was why you didn’t want to decorate it too much but it needed a little bit more personality than what he’d given it. Which was fine. Tony wasn’t really a homemaker. He seemed to give you credit where it was due, though, over the next three days around other more important things like meetings and press junkets of goodwill and hope, you did decorate it. Make it more cozy. And the night you decided you were done enough, he actually slept. 

And so did you. 

For a little while, at least. At five in the morning your mind stirred. It would have been so nice to sleep like a normal person. You were getting there. Close. Things were wrapping. You just had a few more personal things to do. But your head was clearer than it had been in a long time, and while the sun was lifting, you decided to go for a run around the campus. It meant leaving Tony asleep alone in that giant bed, but you did stop to admire his deeply sleeping form. Not held by terrors or worries. If only he could be like that all the time. 

The run was nice. Nobody else seemed to be up yet. But as you stopped just outside the living area again after a good five mile tour, breathing hard, hands on your knees, you spied Steve sitting outside on the patio. Alone. Cup of coffee wisping away. This was probably a sign. And no matter how hard this was going to be, it was now or never. 

You rounded the area and came over to the table, he seemed like he was a million miles away until you got close enough. He then looked up and his smile was warm. “Good morning.” 

“Good morning.” Huffed out a little, still gathering yourself up. “Mind if I sit with you?” 

He made a broad gesture with a sweep of his arm. “Please. Sit. You want some coffee?” 

Water would have been better, but while he was offering- “If you don’t mind making me a cup.” 

“Not at all.” Just like that he got up and went back into the kitchen. It left you sitting there, thinking about just how you were going to do this. How you were supposed to. What was the right way to break the news. When he came back he set down not only a cup but a shaker of sugar and a little carton of half and half. “-I don’t know how you take it. I should have asked.” 

“That’s okay. Thanks for making me some.” This was nice but it was also stilted. He probably sensed it. And even after you prepped your cup, the two of you sat in silence that was less than amicable. Finally you decided you just had to rip the bandaid off and get it over with. “So.” 

“So.” He was gazing at you. Just short of intensely. Almost like he was expecting you to talk about something. 

Your smile back was weak at best and brief. A flash and then gone as you looked down into your coffee. “So… uh. Tony and I…” The thought trailed off, not sure what to say even after all that thinking. 

“Are pregnant?” He tried to finish what you were trying to get out. 

And it completely stunned you. Your head whipped up- even stranger still- getting the sense of a small well of hopefulness from him. “No- no.” Denial was quick and easy. “What?” Your head reeled a little further back, almost in offense. “What? No. Why would you say that?” He looked completely caught. Eyes a little wide. Suddenly very, very nervous. “Steve why would you say that?” Your words were quick and clipped. 

He was very close to grimacing. “I- ...I don’t know what to say right now that won’t get me in more trouble.” 

“Do I look pregnant to you?” 

Quickly he shoved his hand out, palm up. “No! You look great! You look- you look how you always look!” 

“Then why would you say that?” You weren’t sure why but you found yourself a little disturbed that he’d just say something like that. 

“I don’t know- you-” He sighed, shoulders dropping from their tense position as he hung his head with a little shake. “I don’t know. You’ve seemed happier, I guess. These past couple of weeks. Despite everything that’s happened. And…” Another long breath pushed out of him and he looked up at you again. “Let’s be honest. You kinda seem like you’re getting your affairs together. At least that’s how it’s felt.” 

Had you made it that obvious? “Oh.” Now you felt terrible. “Yeah I… I guess I have been.” Letting him down finally from that anxious high. A little too soon actually, so you threw a look back at him. “Well I’m not pregnant.” 

“Okay. I won’t make that mistake again.” Grinning, testing the waters. 

Your grin back was not as full. “But. Tony and I… we’ve been thinking of taking some time away.” The way his heart just sank killed you. He tried not to show it. But you felt its quick drop. It propelled you into overcorrection. “Just- just for a little while.”

But he shook his head, and spoke through his sad smile. “Not for a little while.” 

“No. Not for a little while.” Echoing him, unable to look at him then. Guilty. “We want a lot of time. We want-” It sucked, that it hurt saying this. It shouldn’t have. You wanted a life with Tony. Why was that such a terrible thing to say? 

“If anyone deserves it, it’s you and Tony.” He was sure about this. A steady presence after all that initial stumbling. 

“Thanks.” But it all felt hopeless. 

He tipped his head a little. “Are you asking for my blessing?” Joking, just a little. It wasn’t really that funny. This exchange was familiar to both of you now. 

You gave a shrug and then decided to stop meandering, looking down. “I can’t leave unless you’re okay with it. And I don’t want that to back you into a corner- tell me- honestly- if you’re not-” 

“I’m okay with it.” He cut you off with a strength you did not possess right now. And then surprised you again as he set a hand over yours on the table. The way he said your name was strange yet familiar at the same time and you looked up at him. “We’ll be okay.” 

But it was like he’d stuck a knife into you with that. Like he’d actually denied you. It hurt all the same. “Will you?” You asking this seemed to stun him, for some reason. His gaze went a little more than foggy. Distant. Until eventually his eyes left yours. Something tangled inside him, though he was holding back. Knowing exactly who he was sitting with. His guilt poked you like a hot knife. And soon you worried… you worried you weren’t actually going to be able to leave. He didn’t want you to go. But it seemed he was feeling guilty- ashamed, too- of thinking of asking you to stay. Even for a little while longer. “Steve? You can talk to me. About anything. Whatever it is you wanna say. Just say it.” 

Getting his attention back finally he breathed a noise out, dropping his head in a nod. “Look… we’ve been through a lot. And… I’m gonna miss you.” 

“Come on.” Turning your hand over in his, giving him a wiggle. “I have an office upstairs- and a suite. Tony has labs here and projects he’s excited about. You’ll still see me. I’m not disappearing completely. I still have to do press for the Avengers. And do payroll and all that. I’m not leaving here. I’m not abandoning you guys.” 

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. But that’s not what I meant.” 

Steve meant… he’d miss fighting alongside you. He’d miss getting mission statements. Getting debriefings. Hell, even fighting with you about what direction was best. It wasn’t always fun, it was never easy. But… it was the basis for a lot of your relationship. And he would miss having you in that part of his life. 

The two of you were staring at each other. Before you knew it, a few tears had escaped down past the line of your lashes. “Yeah. I’m gonna miss you, too.” 

It was hard to tell who got up first. But the end result was still the same. He’d pulled you into a tight hug. He was letting you go. He was telling you this was okay. It was okay to leave. To start a life. He was letting you know he would take over. Without question. He would do his best. He would lead the Avengers. He would fight the fights. 

...and you’d miss each other. 

                                                              ---

Aside from all the usual work you had to put in after a crisis, nothing happened immediately after your talk with Steve for the next few days. It was why you suspected a storm was on its way. Especially if you kept putting off having a similar talk with the rest of your teammates. The one with Steve had been so emotionally taxing, it had put you off wanting to do it again. 

But the universe perhaps for once was on your side. And it forced your teammates to you instead. All at once. 

You’d just come out of a long meeting hosted at one of the conference rooms in the Facility. Once the air had cleared and everyone had left the area, you double checked your schedule. Clear for the rest of the night. It would be a nice time to reconvene with Tony. See if he’d done any similar talking yet- 

“Lady.” Thor called your attention from down the hall, heavy boots bringing him to you in just a few steps. “I would like to speak with you.” 

For one reason or another, anxiety flared tight in your chest. But you had no good reason not to. Feelings aside. “Sure, Thor. Why don’t we take a walk?” 

“I’d like that.” His smile tried to ease your fears. It missed its mark. Outside in the dying light of the sun the air was muggy and not at all as refreshing as you’d hoped. Still, you stuck your hands into your pockets and waited for him to say whatever it was he had to say. He didn’t take too long. Only waiting until you were far enough out of earshot of the compound. “Before the Vision was born, I visited a holy place called the Water of Sights.” 

Oh. So he was jumping right in. You had little time to react to this new information. “Is that on earth?” Or had he traveled somewhere else? 

“It is everywhere. In every realm. The Water of Sights is inhabited by a people called the Norns. They see what is to come.” 

Even though you really didn’t understand too much about this, you nodded. “That’s where you had your vision, right? About JARVIS- or- err- Vision- and the Infinity Stones?” 

“Yes.” He said this so resolutely it startled you momentarily. But much more so when he stopped walking. You turned, a little in front of him, but still close. His eyes watched yours. Deeply. “I saw you.” 

“Me?” Hand raising to not only gesture at yourself, but to press at your chest just a little. That anxiety was starting to get the better of you. You felt very tight. “Why me?” 

“That is what I would like to find out. In my vision I saw the Infinity Stones. Four of them.” 

“Four? I thought you said there were six?” 

“I saw the four I believe we know of. That we have had contact with, even if brief.” Really, though, what it sounded like was he was pitching you this information in the hopes that you knew something he didn’t. So he could tie it all together.

But not only did you know nothing about this. You also wanted nothing to do with it. You started shaking your head. It was too little too late now, though. You couldn’t deny this. Thor had seen you in a vision about the stones. All you could do was plead ignorant. Lie. ...it didn’t seem right. “My powers- whatever they are- come from a stone.” 

“Are you certain?” 

“Mostly?” Offering this with a raise of both your hands and a tight uptilt of your voice. “I don’t know. We’re still trying to figure it out. Nobody else knows. Tony had been doing some experiments with Bruce- having to do with gamma signatures and… stuff that’s way beyond me. But. They said that’s what they think. And if that’s what they think-” 

“Then the probability that it is correct is very high.” Thor’s gaze went a little foggy as he nodded. “But you know nothing of which stone? Or what happened?” 

You crossed your arms. “No. I’m sorry I can’t help you. When I know more you’re now the first I’ll check in with.” Aside Tony, of course. 

His attention returned fully to you and his smile was sure as he reached out to lay a hand on your shoulder. “I appreciate that, Lady. I mean to leave soon, to travel the realms and find out more about the stones. But. Whatever it meant- you in my vision- I believe it can only mean good things.” 

Your nose wrinkled and reluctance was easy. “Why?” 

“For the same reason that I trust the Vision. He possesses the Mind Stone, and means to do good with it. If you have anything to do with another stone, it will only help us. You are one of the most trustworthy people I know. And I know your heart is good.” 

His optimism was a little hard to take in all at once. You decided to focus on something else, “Wait- I mean- thank you- but… Tony thinks I was experimented on- or that I had some interaction with a stone when I was younger. Kind of like Wanda. And Pietro. But you didn’t see them. I don’t understand.” 

“Nor do I. But I’m hoping my travels will reveal more information.” 

This was an unsatisfactory answer. In fact it wasn’t an answer at all. And really now you felt worse. Thor was putting a lot on you all at once about these stones, not that he was doing it on purpose you were sure. But you really didn’t want anything to do with them. You’d almost mostly decided as long as Tony never brought it up again… maybe you’d just never talk about it. But now Thor was telling you he saw you in a vision- 

“Lady, everything will be alright. You have my word.” 

Your spiraling must have been a little too obvious. You forced a smile. “Sure.” Not really agreeing with or even believing him. “Can I just ask you that we keep this between us?” 

He nodded. “It was why I wanted to speak with you alone.” 

You were undecided if this was better or worse. That Thor’s instinct was to not let anyone else know, too. ...probably worse.                                                               ---

The talk with Thor had left you a little frazzled and worse for wear. Your immediate instinct was to find Tony. So you went back to the compound. And while your heart was already in the suite, your attention was stolen by two fingers on the ground level training floor. You could have easily passed them by, but- moving beyond the catwalk, one of them spotted you. 

And then in the next second Pietro was up there with you. “You’re a hard woman to get a hold of, you know that?” He leaned over the balcony, grinning. 

“Just busy.” Your nerves were too shot for this encounter. But it didn’t seem like you had much of a choice. “How are you feeling?” The least you could do was check in on him. Maybe he was right. Maybe you were extremely unavailable. Little did he know that was about to get worse. 

His head dropped, hands clasped together. “Fine.” Answer short and clipped. The air between you was tense. You thought about excusing yourself. “As far as I can tell, that’s because of you. I’ve asked around. No one seems to know what I’m talking about.” 

You found yourself a little too upset very quickly and you put a hand up to him to get his attention. When he looked at you, “What happened between us? Whatever I did for you? It needs to stay between us. Okay?” 

Turning the other way on the railing, he splayed his arms out, brows knit. “Why?” 

“Because I don’t know what I did.” You were being a little harsh, but you just didn’t have it in you to be gentle right now. Even if he seemed like he needed that. “All I know is you’re alive. That’s what’s important, right?” 

“I shouldn’t be alive.” That careless sarcastic facade reduced to ashes in mere seconds. And… for a moment, behind your eyes, you saw Tony. Collapsing into a chair in the lab. Looking at you with pained eyes. You had to shake yourself free. “I shouldn’t be but…” Pietro continued and you tried to yank yourself out of that memory. He put a hand on his chest. “But I am. And I’m trying to figure out what comes next.” 

Wanda had stopped what she was doing and was now standing just below. Listening in, no doubt. You took a deep breath. “Are you two staying? With the Avengers?” 

He shrugged. “Seems like we are.” 

“Then you need to work really hard. The world is going to be looking at you two. Sokovians who fought in its war. Who now stand for something greater. The media is already trying to take advantage of you for headlines.” 

The roll of his eyes- his carelessness- it bugged the hell out of you. “I don’t care about all that.” 

You got very close to putting your finger right into his chest as you pointed at him. “Well you have to. If you’re going to be part of this team you have to care. You and your sister. And they’ll look after you. They’ll protect you.” 

He seemed annoyed. “Who says we need protecting? We got by on our own. We can again.” 

“The world has seen you. They know you now. You are enhanced individuals. Not only that, but you’re now only under the protection of the Avengers. An American organization. You’re going to have to get your citizenship-” 

Wanda had stepped onto the catwalk. And she was interrupting you. “We are citizens of Sokovia.” 

You were about to flare. Burn them both up to a crisp. You didn’t want to deal with this right now. But a new energy had entered. Where Wanda had joined on the left, you heard pointed footsteps on your right. Tony had appeared. You didn’t know where from or how he knew to come get you. You just knew that you were grateful. He started waving his arm about. “Look. That’s great and all. I get it. The patriotic flare. But Sokovia is gone. And someone needs to take you in.” When he finally came to a stop you were seconds from sagging against him. His loving brush across your back kept you sane in that moment. 

Both of them stood together, almost opposite you and Tony purposefully. Wanda narrowed her eyes. “You cannot ask us to abandon our home.” 

Tony put a hand up. “Not abandon. Nobody said abandon. But, let’s get real here for a second. You’re enhanced. You’re on American soil. You don’t get smart about this, the President is gonna roll up here and make examples out of you. The guy’s been pretty twitchy these days. Don’t count on his mercy. He’s not like us.” 

“Not like you. Yet it sounds like you aren’t giving us another choice. So how are you different? One prison over another.” Wanda really seemed vehement about this. You weren’t sure why. 

So you tried to find some footing on her level. Every attempt was made to keep your tone gentle. “You fought. You understood the notion of helping people. Of righting what went wrong. You saw what the Avengers stood for. You see the work that’s going in now. We are not your enemies. We want what’s best for you. Sokovia is gone. I know nobody is more devastated about that than you two. All we can do now is rebuild. This team wants you as part of their family. Not as prisoners.” 

Pietro touched her hand with his and she seemed to soften. If only a little. He then looked up at the both of you. “If we agree… what does that mean?” 

You and Tony exchanged glances, and he fielded the question. “Nobody’s gonna babysit you. You wanna be here, you put in the time. Really. Citizenship first. I’d expedite but- given you’re the center of a media storm right now- might be good to do it the old fashioned way. It’s gonna take a while, so you gotta get on it. Other than that… show up, when somebody needs you. Fight the good fight. Doesn’t get simpler than that.” 

The two of them looked at each other. You were sure a million words passed between them. When they were finished, Wanda turned back. She seemed a little more subdued. And finally, “We will stay.” 

Tony’s relief that the two of you wouldn’t have to fight them anymore soaked you through. “Great. Glad to hear it.” 

And that was that.                                                               ---

While it would have been nice to just go back to your suite and maybe go to bed or decompress, you found Natasha waiting at your door. Today was really just going to keep going. Maybe that was on you. If you’d only spaced all these little talks out, they wouldn’t have piled together like this. She stopped in the middle of a knock when she heard you approaching, and when she turned you noted the big bottle she had in her hand. “Was wondering where you two were.” Grinning just a little. “Hoping I hadn’t missed you already.” 

Ah. So. That’s what this was about. Tony opened the door first and you went after him, motioning for her to come in. “You know, huh?” 

Her laugh was short. “These guys aren’t the best at keeping secrets. Honestly, my feelings are just hurt because you didn’t tell me first. Out of everyone here, I’ve known you both the longest.” She seemed like she was in a fantastic mood, but some of that was a little bit fake. 

She wanted something to do. Something to focus on. Bruce was gone. They’d been getting close. It wasn’t easy for anyone, but you expected she was having a tough time with it, too. You pulled a couple wine glasses out of the cabinet in the kitchen. “Well the only one I told was Steve. So unless Tony has been blabbing all over campus…” Turning back to look at the two of them, Tony looked guilty and Nat looked amused. “Ah. I see.” Turning away again. 

Tony started fumbling. “Some things just slip out.” 

Natasha wedged the cork out of the bottle as you came over and set glasses down. “Sure. Exciting times, it’s understandable.” You poured a fair amount into three glasses- she’d picked a rather expensive red wine. Always classy, that Natasha. “You gonna miss it?” 

You sat down opposite the two of them at the kitchen island. “Like I told Steve- we’ll still be here, you know? You know that more than anyone. Someone’s gotta do paperwork for the Avengers.” 

Tony sipped heavily at his glass and then shook his head. “Mn. Not me. You people don’t pay me enough.” 

Nat laughed a little. “You pay us.” 

“Don’t I know it.” He sipped even more. Exaggerated, putting on a show for the humor of it all. 

You shook your head. “You don’t know it, actually.” Caught, he hid a smile behind another sip. 

Once the mirth died down, Natasha looked at Tony first and then you. “So. What’s the plan? House in the hills? Big extravagant wedding? Kids? White picket fence?” 

Tony made a face. “I think you’re thinking of someone else.” 

Instead of letting them pick on Steve, you spoke up quickly. “We don’t know yet. We just… know that it’s time.” 

Nat smiled again. “Yeah. That’s more than fair, I think.” She was incredibly sad, but hiding it well. 

It was kind of getting to you, though. You didn’t want her to be sad. Not over the two of you- and not over Bruce, either. But you could only alleviate one of those things. “Really. You’ll probably see us all the time.” 

Tony seemed offended by the notion. “Well- not all the time-” Almost like he was realizing you two had a different perception of what starting a life looked like. But one look at him and he seemed to smarten up. Because he cast a sideways glance at Nat next. And- then- yes it clicked. “But. You know. Often enough.” 

Nat also seemed to get it and grinned. “You guys don’t feel bad for me, do you?” 

You put your chin in your palm. “No. Not at all.” Then you took a slow slip of your wine. “What’s your retirement plan look like?” 

At this she really did laugh. Something genuine. “Retirement? I don’t think so.” 

Tony leaned in on her side. “Why not? If we can do it, anyone can, I think.” 

Nat lifted a brow to him. “The question is can you do it?” Perhaps a little disbelieving. Which was valid. You and Tony were workaholics, after all… 

“Won’t know until we try.” You lifted your glass. “How about a toast. To trying.” 

Not a toast for goodbyes, which was why you guessed she’d brought the wine in the first place. She softened, looking at you. Then she lifted her glass. “To trying.” 

The soft clink of all three of your glasses made a nest in your memories. It kind of felt like the end cap you’d been looking for this entire time. A small moment, but by no means insignificant. 

And then, after a long sip, you broke the quietness. Feeling better now enough to joke. “Do you know when I tried to tell Steve, he asked if I was pregnant?” 

Tony looked shocked, Nat did too- but in an extremely tickled way that led to her stifled laughter. “No he did not. Tell me he didn’t.” 

“He did.” 

A little gossiping never hurt anyone. 

                                                              ---

It was the day before Tony’s birthday. May 28th. You knew because you had been counting it all down. Almost down to the minute in the last week. The two of you had gone back to the city, finding it easier to do pressers and meetings closer to that homebase, rather than keep going to and from the Facility. The early morning meeting that day had been that the ribbon cutting of the Facility was finalized. The Avengers had a new home. New teammates that they were excited to introduce to the public they so lovingly served over the next few months. And when asked where the Facility was… well. That was private. The Avengers deserved privacy, too, after all. 

May 28th was also the day you and Tony were officially stepping away. Everyone knew at that point. It was no longer a secret. It was out there. It was real. And you couldn’t wait to start. 

The drive back up from the city to the Facility was a couple of hours. Tony drove a little faster than he should have, more excited than you, in fact, to close everything out. He’d only been asking for this very thing for the last few years. You couldn’t hold it against him. His hand had found yours as soon as the two of you had gotten in the car- maybe a little bit before that, showing off for the media. 

And still the two of you were clutching to each other as you stepped out onto the Facility grounds that afternoon. After approaching the main compound you cast a look up his way. “You’re sure you’re ready to do this?” Grinning just a little. 

His own wide smile was very telling. “Me? Yeah. More than. What about you? It’s gettin’ a little late to turn back.” 

“Guess I’ll just have to go with it then, won’t I?” You were teasing, but saying this seemed to make him just a little unsure. Something you quickly eased away as you put a hand to his chest, leaning up on tiptoe to press a light kiss to his lips. He melted. Immediately. And you sensed he was seconds away from telling you to get back in the car and just send a note saying goodbye. When you tried to break, he followed you, so much so that you had to actually put a finger to his lips. “We still have to make some rounds.” 

“Mn.” Mumbling against your skin. “How many?” Whatever number you gave him it was going to be too high. 

A presence standing a few feet back from you caught your attention, and you half turned to see JARVIS standing there. Waiting. As if you two had a scheduled appointment. Tony’s gaze followed and then when he looked back at you, a small touch of understanding passed between the both of you. To ease him, you gave him just one more small kiss. And then, “I’ll meet you when I’m finished. I know Thor’s leaving, too. We’ll all say goodbye at the same time.” 

He just nodded. “Don’t be late.” His hands went into his pockets, and even as you turned and walked away, you felt him watching after you. 

JARVIS tilted his head upon your approach, his eyes glancing briefly at Tony. But when you got near enough he put his full attention on you. “It seems the time has come. You and Tony are leaving.” 

The past few weeks it had turned from an open secret to people actually knowing. Yet somehow still it was strange. To just have it out there. “Is that okay with you?” 

“With me?” It was a rare treat, to see JARVIS surprised about anything- whether in this body or as a disembodied voice watching over your lives. “What have I to do with it?” 

“Everything.” You smiled up at him. “You’ve looked after Tony and I for so long. And I know everything is still fresh and new. It’s going to be… strange. Not having you around. Having you here.” 

His expression grew contemplative and eventually he nodded. “Yes, I agree. But. I feel there is something enjoyable to new beginnings.” Rolling off him there was just the faintest sense of blue. He didn’t want you to go. But he wouldn’t say as much. He even threw his chances at doing so away when he gave you a little smile. “You two have talked about this for quite some time. Far longer than this. You deserve it.” 

Your shoulders came up in a pronounced shrug. “I don’t know about deserve-”

“I do.” His hand came out, fingers gentle as he touched over your arm. You stood very still. Just watching him. “For everything you and Tony have been through. Everything you have seen. Everything you have endured… and everything yet to come… enjoy this. Please. You’ve more than earned it.” His words were busy seeping deep into you- and it took you a little too long to answer. So he grasped you just a little tighter, “I will be alright.” 

That was the root of the issue. He knew it. He knew that’s what you were really worried about. You didn’t want to abandon him. This was all so new for him. And now you and Tony were leaving, too. “Promise?” It was almost sort of selfish, asking this of him. 

His smile then was one of admiration. And no less of love. “I promise.” 

You made the first move, reaching up to wrap your arms around him. Squeezing him tight. It was strangely rewarding. When he hugged you back just as hard. 

                                                              ---

It took you a little while searching the compounds, but you found your three favorite confidants roaming the eastern outer wing, shoulder-to-shoulder-to-shoulder with each other. Though they would have met you coming up the other way, you were alight with sudden nervous energy. It was starting to feel like now or never. As Thor, Tony, and Steve approached, you smiled at them. “You boys having a rousing discussion about something important?” 

Tony reached his hand out, putting it on your shoulder. “Terribly. I need your opinion. Vision. He’s not- he’s not human, right?” 

This blindsided you. “Uh- I guess- technically- no? Why?” 

Steve snapped with a point afterwards at Thor. “Ahah. See? It doesn’t count.” You were worried what you’d agreed to. They were all in a fantastic mood it seemed. 

Tony shook his head, putting his arm around you. “No. It’s not a person lifting the hammer.” 

“Right. It’s different rules for us.” 

Oh. ...were they serious? You nudged Tony just a little. “What’s the matter? Egos bruised a little?” You cast a look up Thor’s way although he was extremely amused. Clearly not upset by the talk at hand. “You gonna let them go on like this?” 

“It’s alright, Lady. As I’ve already said. If he can wield the hammer, he can keep the Mind Stone.” -ah, that was a little bit of a different discussion than the men worrying about who was more worthy. “It’s safe with the Vision. And these days safe is in short supply.” 

The four of you took up walking down the rest of the hall. You couldn’t help yourself. “Don’t say that. Please. Or else we’ll be here a few more weeks.” 

Tony raised his free hand in a sweeping wave. “Absolutely not. We’re safe. He said it. No takesy-backseys.” 

Steve spoke from your other side. “Let me just say this- if you put the hammer in an elevator…” 

A sharp and quick chuckle came from Tony. “Elevator would still go up. We can test that theory.” 

You shook your head, feigning exasperation. “You two really aren’t gonna let this go, huh?” 

Looking over at you Steve raised both his brows, “Now- see- the elevator isn’t worthy. That’s my point. But it’ll still go up.” 

There was another stinging edge you wanted to put in- men and their egos- but Thor’s laughter stopped you. He reached out, laying one of those heavy hands on Tony’s shoulder, giving him a small shake. “You know, I’m going to miss these talks of ours.” 

Tony grinned at him. “Not if you don’t leave.” 

Raising a finger, you had to ask, “Doesn’t Asgard have better communication tech? We need to have cellphones. Hell. Even pagers would be better than no contact.” 

After a slow blink, Thor asked, “What is a pager?” Steve seemed equally interested. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Please. Let’s not step back. I can figure interstellar communication tech out. Give me a month.” A month of working. Of Thor staying here. And… the two of you not actually leaving to go on your own, too.

Something Thor understood very quickly. “Ah. Lady would not be too pleased with that, I fear. You will have to figure it out on your own time.” Your smile was gratitude enough, and the three of you followed him as he finally exited the hall to go onto the lawn. “The Mind Stone is the fourth of the Infinity Stones to show up in the last few years. That’s not a coincidence. Someone has been playing an intricate game and has made pawns of us. But once all the pieces are in position…” 

This was… this was not how you wanted a send off to go. He was speaking so darkly. Surmising about the future. And it didn’t sound great. Tony offered his usual sassy levity. “Triple Yahtzee?” 

The mood had turned. Steve put his hands on his belt. “You think you can find out what’s coming?” This was work. It was duty. 

Thor nodded. “I do.” But he eased the mood by breaking with a smile. Lifting his hand, he gave Tony a small pat to the chest. “Besides this one? There’s nothing that can’t be explained.” He stepped further back and the intent was clear. While he gave the group a nod, you raised your hand in a small wave. And while he lifted his hammer towards the sky- you got lucky. And he offered you a small wave in return. 

Right before he summoned that ridiculous rainbow lighting. And disappeared in the next flash. Leaving behind a burned patterned ring in your freshly laid and cut grass. 

Tony’s annoyance hit the mark first. “That man has no regard for lawn maintenance.” 

You just sighed. “I’ll send him a bill when he’s here next time.” 

“Yeah. And he’ll pay it with money we give him. Paying ourselves. What a scheme.” Reaching into his pocket he pulled his keys free with a little jangle, and then once he had his fob in hand, he called his car over. “I will miss him, though.”

“Me, too.” Echoing the sentiment easily. Thor often came and went whenever it suited him. But that didn't mean you liked him any less, or were any less attached. 

That fancy sports car made its way down the drive, and you and Tony went over to it. Steve followed at a lingering distance. The two of you looked at him, and Tony smiled. “Don’t tell me. You have the big we’ll miss you card that I’ve been asking for. I’m impressed. Where’ve you been hiding it?” 

Affectionately you rolled your eyes. “Oh please say you do. I don’t want to hear him whining about it.” 

Steve’s smile was soft. Something bittersweet. “I will miss the both of you. Even if I didn’t bring a card.”

The quipping mood seemed to die rather quick, and Tony nodded slowly. “Yeah. Well. ...it’s time for us to tap out. Barton’s kinda making us look bad. And…” He didn’t know how to say it exactly. Maybe it was his present audience. Tony had never had trouble explaining his desires about this to you. 

You twined your fingers with his, but kept your eyes on Steve. “We want a life.” Saying it just the way it was. As plainly as could be. You felt Tony looking at you, so you glanced up at him. “Together.” His smile then wrapped a warmth around you. 

Steve interrupted your gazing. “Hopefully a simple one.” 

Tony looked back at him. “You’ll get there one day.” 

You couldn’t help your grin. “Sharon’s welcome to come by any time, you know. Have you talked to her lately?” 

And this seemed to ruin his mood completely. He gave a heavy shrug and looked away. “She hasn’t answered my calls in weeks.” You wanted to offer maybe she’s just busy- you didn’t want this to be the thing that made him give up. But he kept talking. “I don’t know anymore. Family… stability…” He looked up at you and Tony again. “The guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago. I think someone else came out.” 

This broke your heart. Completely. To hear him say this. Yet despite the way he was talking, there was the burgeoning hopefulness welling up inside him. Maybe Tony had been right. Maybe this was the life Steve wanted. He seemed to be leaning that way, too. With a little nudge, Tony got you around the other side of the car, and he opened the door for you. Though before you moved to sit, the two of you looked at Steve one last time. Tony was the one to ask. “You alright?” 

Steve just smiled at the both of you. “Yeah. I’m home.” 

                                                              ---

The drive away was quiet. This wasn’t forever. You still worked for the Avengers. And like you’d told everyone else that you’d said it to, the both of you would still be around. Maybe not immediately, though. You thought perhaps a vacation was in order. A true celebration to kicking off this strange idea that the two of you could be on your own. Live a life. 

Your hand reached over to take his. Almost a little possessively. Tony Stark was yours. For now… for now the earth needed to back off. Stop laying claim to his genius. His efforts. His heroism. You wanted him. You needed him. 

You wanted to be with him. And finally… finally just live. 

His smile caught you sideways, and you felt like you might melt right onto the floor. He was clearly thinking the same thing as you, with a look like that. So warm and intense. So full of that deep love. You had to put a stop to it. Or you might have to pull over. “What do you wanna do for your birthday?” 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow was his birthday. He could do anything now. He was free. What did Tony Stark want to do? 

“Let’s find a house.” 

At this point you’d started smiling so hard it hurt. “A house, huh?” 

“Plot of land. House. Whatever. I want the present I’ve been asking for for years. As long as you’re ready to give it to me.” 

Shifting over you laid your lips on his cheek, felt the stretch there as his smile got the better of him. Your murmur was careful, but sweet. “I’m ready.”