#god forbid people actually take some accountability and accept that MAYBE they might be making it worse

[iwillstabyou]

Ahhhh well if it isn’t my old friend, the crushing feeling of never truly being understood despite your endless attempts to articulate yourself, paying me another visit

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 11:  A Turkey Called Marv

Summary: Nat, Clint, Evans, Lawson and the rest of her SHIELD team throw Katie a leaving party once news of her resignation spreads across the Triskellion before Katie and Steve head to New York to spend their first Thanksgiving as a couple with Tony, Pepper and Bruce.

Paring: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: None for this chap, bar a bit of bad language and teeth rotting fluff

A/N: Accompanying One Shot- The Life Of Marv. 

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 10

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

November 2013

News of Katie’s spectacular resignation spread like wildfire through the Triskellion. Evans, Lawson, Natasha and Clint had all been pretty upset but had understood when she had explained why she was doing it, even if Natasha didn’t necessarily agree. They had no intention of letting her go quietly, however, and the team took it upon themselves to organise a small Leaving do at Lori’s which was in full swing. Background music was playing, food had arrived and the drinks were flowing. Steve was talking to Lawson, Rumlow and Evans by the bar, leaning against it, an easy smile on his face as Katie stood with Clint and Natasha a bit further down the bar as Clint was talking to them about his latest home improvement plan.  

“So I thought about putting in a pool.” Clint mused, “Now the kids are bigger I thought it might be nice to have one. Maybe even a pool house round it for bad weather.”

“How ambitious.” Nat quirked an eyebrow.

Clint grinned. “That’s my middle name.”

“Really?” Katie asked. “I always thought it was Robert.”

“What?” Clint looked at her as Nat snorted out a laugh.  "Francis.  Why would you think its Robert?“

Katie shrugged "You look like a Bob.”

“Wait… so it’s not Ambitious?” Nat asked, winking at Katie. “How boring.”

Katie nodded, draining her glass.  "Bob would have been better.”

"Right,” Clint started, pulling himself taller. “I hate both of you.”

The girls laughed and Nat turned to Katie. “So what’s in the pipeline for you now Nova?” “I have no idea.” Katie shrugged and she didn’t. “I guess I’ll just get more involved in the family business.”

“You gonna move to New York?” Clint asked. She shook her head. “Probably spend a bit more time there but, I’m not moving back.”

“Nah, she can’t leave lover boy.” Natasha looked at Clint and Katie rolled her eyes. Truth is Nat had hit the nail on the head. No way was she leaving Steve in DC to move back to the tower. Although they had only been together seven months she had spent over a year of her life being ‘with him’ one way or another and the thought of him not being there terrified her.

“You know, to be fair Nat, they’ve been going out a while now. Things are probably starting to cool off.” Clint teased “Oh trust me, there’s no problems in that department.” Katie sniggered, looking over to where Steve was stood.

“And would you look at that. I’m out of alcohol…” Nat said, suddenly “And so is Stark.”

“There’s a bar over there,” Clint pointed

“Cheers…”Natasha took Katie’s glass and handed it to him along with her own. Clint shook his head taking the glasses with a sigh.

“So… now he’s gone…” Nat glanced over at Steve then back to Katie “Gimme details…”

“Details on what?”

“Throw me a bone here Stark. I’m working on a dry spell.”

“Why are you so obsessed with my sex life?” Katie groaned. “You’re constantly trying to get me to talk about it.”

“Hey, look, up until a few months ago I was convinced he was a virgin.”

“Well then you’re a dumbass.” Katie smirked “Like I said, he’s Captain America, had girls throwing themselves at him back in the day.” “So he was until the serum?”

“I never said that.” Katie flushed.

“You’re such a shit liar.”

“Can we change the subject?”

“Ok, answer me one question and then I’ll drop it.” Nat pressed.

“What?” Katie snapped with an air of playful frustration. If she was honest, it was quite nice to have a girlfriend to chat to about these kind of secrets.

“Did the serum enhance…everything?” Nat wiggled her eyebrows.

Katie glanced over at Steve and smirked before she looked back at her. Fuck it.

“Well if it didn’t, I’ve no idea how he managed to stay upright before.” she smirked "I’m a lucky woman”

The red head threw back her head in a dirty laugh, a laugh that Katie had never heard from her before and it made her snigger at the sight of the normally composed assassin letting loose.

“What I miss?” Clint asked as he reappeared, handing them their drinks.

“I’ll explain when you’re older…” Nat said, patting his chest fondly.

*****

The next two weeks flashed by and before they knew it, it was the morning before thanksgiving and they were at the Tower in New York. Last year Katie and Steve had spent Thanksgiving as friends. This year they were spending it as lovers, and Katie was also excited to be spending it with Tony, although she would never admit that out loud.

Steve was also looking forward to it as well. Tony had mellowed to him somewhat over the past few months, especially when he had found out Steve was supporting Katie’s decision to quit SHIELD and not trying to stop her as he had original thought the Captain would. He was also looking forward to Katie’s damned fine cooking as well. Despite the fact that Tony had offered to cater in as Pepper was away until the very last minute, his girl had insisted on cooking it herself, especially now she had plenty of time on her hands.  

As such, Steve and Tony had left her in the kitchen area of the main living quarters at midday to head down to the lab to discuss some further upgrades to the Tower. When they left Katie had been surrounded by bags of flour and ingredients, and when Steve returned he found her at just gone 5:30 surrounded by 3 pies (one apple, one pumpkin and one blackberry) pans of vegetables prepped ready for the and a turkey in the oven ready for JARVIS to turn on in the morning. She was stood at the sink, gently humming, the kitchen now clean and the smell of her baking making his mouth water.

“What are you doing Soldier?” Katie asked, jumping a little as Steve’s arms came around her sides, reaching for the sink, effectively trapping her between the counter and his body.

He laid his chin on her shoulder. “The dishes,”

“I’m only leaving the pie dish to soak.” She informed him, turning her head to give him a quick kiss. “The rest are going in the Dishwasher.”

“Oh because God forbid her majesty would actually wash a dish.” He teased and she rolled her eyes.

“You don’t wash them much either. How many brushes did you break last week?”

“The plastic is bad quality.” Steve pouted.

“Nothing to do with your ridiculously large hands being too rough.” “You weren’t complaining last night.” He grinned, lips warm against her neck as he gently nipped under her ear. Katie squirmed a little and then swatted him in the face with the dishtowel, and he laughed out loud.

“Seriously though Doll face, are you nearly done? You’ve been in here all afternoon. You do know we’re not eating till 3 tomorrow, right?” His hands squeezed her hips and she tossed the dishcloth down and turned to face him, her hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders.

“Yeah but the more I do now, the less I have to do tomorrow, and let’s face it, it’s not like I have anything else to do, on account of being an unemployed bum.” She shrugged making Steve laugh again.  “Plus, I just want everything to be, you know…right.” she shrugged, and she did.

“It’s a dinner.”

“It’s Thanksgiving” She corrected him.

“Yeah, and last years was pretty cool, remember?”

“Yeah but…” she trailed off, biting her lip. Steve knew that look well enough now to know there was more to this.

“What?” He probed gently.

“Nothing, just, well I never had a boyfriend over for Thanksgiving before. Or Christmas come to think of it.”

Steve smiled “I like being your first…” Katie grinned. The whole ‘I like being your first’ thing had started off by her saying it to Steve but they’d fast come to realise that they actually both had a world of inexperience between them when it came to relationships, and it was nice that they could be each other’s firsts in a lot of ways.  “Honey, tomorrow is gonna be great.” He assured, tipping her face up to look at his “Don’t sweat it.”

“Did you seriously just say don’t sweat it?” she sniggered.

Steve groaned “I told you I spent the afternoon with your brother…”

She giggled and leaned up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“Getting kinda tired of catching you two making out in a kitchen!” Tony chose that time to waltz in and open the fridge door, pointing to them as he did so. “You got your own floor, piss off and go use it.” ******

Katie woke the next morning to find Steve’s side of the bed empty and cold. It wasn’t unusual for him to be up earlier than her, she knew he would either be out running, in the gym or making coffee. She climbed out of bed and walked to the blinds of the bedroom, instructing JARVIS to open them, the AI being one of the many perks about being 'home’. The New York skyline stretched below her and as she glanced down she saw the people gathered on the sidewalks, attention turned to the streets, obviously waiting for the Thanksgiving Parade. She had asked Steve if he wanted to go and watch it in person but he had said he would prefer to stay in and watch from the tower as he didn’t fancy getting mobbed in the street. Being recognised by one person every so often was fine but in those crowds if one person spotted him then it would spread like wildfire. Besides, as he had pointed out, her floor had an awesome view so they could watch out of the window with a drink. Katie frowned as suddenly a large brown turkey shaped balloon floated in front of her eyes. The parade wasn’t supposed to start until nine and that meant by the time it made its way to the Avengers tower it would be… she turned and glanced at the click and gave a yelp. She had slept in until Ten. 

Steve heard her before he saw her, not that he needed super hearing to hear the loud yell of "how fucking late?” coming from the bedroom. Grinning to himself he turned back to the griddle on the island of the kitchen, flipping a pancake with one hand and drinking a coffee with the other. “Why didn’t you wake me?” Katie grumbled to him as she leaned in the kitchen doorway, taking him in for a moment. He was freshly showered, dressed in a loose grey t-shirt and sweats, hair still a bit damp and spiked up in a way that made her smile. “Because you were up early yesterday and I thought I’d make you breakfast for a change.” He shrugged as she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face into the back of his shoulder. The smell of his shower gel mixed with the smell of the pancake mix, made her nuzzle her nose into him to inhale deeply. “You smell good.” She eventually spoke again. “Good to know.” A grin tugged at the corners of his lips at the fact she was still clinging to him. “I just saw a giant inflatable Turkey.” Her hands dropped and slid under his T-shirt, gently rubbing at his stomach. “What?” Steve paused. “The parade”

Steve smiled. “You know when I was a kid, the parade was the best part of Thanksgiving.” “Yeah?” she mumbled, her cheek still pressed to his shoulder.

“Yeah. Me and Bucky used to come into Manhattan with his family and my ma if she wasn’t working and stuff ourselves on popcorn and warm mixed nuts” He smiled to himself at the memory. They always picked out their favourite balloons, ate until they thought they would burst, and made Rebecca, Bucky’s younger sister laugh till she cried by pretending they were in the marching bands. But once the war started, the parade had ended. He had never realized that they started it up again until Tony and Katie had mentioned it last night as they had sat eating takeout. Part of him had wanted to go to the street to watch it but after seeing that morning how crowded it had been on his run he was happy to watch it from the comfort of Katie’s floor. He turned to face her for first time that day, her arms still round his waist. Her hair was pulled up into a pony tail, face fresh, eyes bright and she was, as ever, in one of his shirts and not a lot else. He leaned forward to give her a quick kiss and when he moved away, she quickly closed the space to give him another, letting her lips linger on his for a second. “I’ll burn the pancakes.” He murmured and she grinned, pulling away. “I’ll make fresh coffee.” She pat his chest and turned to the machine. “Hey JAR…Hit me with some Christmas tunes, buddy” “The usual Miss Stark?” “As long as it has the Pogues on…” “Wouldn’t dream of not doing” the AI replied and then the apartment was flooded with the sounds of ‘Fairy Tale of New York.’ “It’s November.” Steve turned to look at her, but she simply grinned to herself and turned around, singing to him. He couldn’t help but laugh, he knew from last year that Christmas for her started at Thanksgiving and ended on New Year’s Day. Plus the fact that the previous year she had spent Christmas day fighting a bunch of exploding super soldiers meant that she was going to enjoy this year as much as possible. He shook his head, a low chuckle escaping before he turned back to his pancakes. They dragged the cushions off the couch and ate breakfast sat by the huge floor to ceiling windows of the penthouse, Katie sat between Steve’s legs as they both watched the parade. Suddenly, a large green balloon floated by the window and Katie gave a loud squeal when she saw what it was. A Hulk float. An amused smile spread across her lips as she watched the balloon bob in front of the window, twisting to the sides in the air as it wrestled with the wind. “Oh my God!” Katie giggled again, gently tapping Steve’s right calf but he had already spotted it. A massive shield was coming out, followed by Iron Man’s mask, Thor’s hammer, a bow and arrow, Natasha’s Red Widow symbol and her own Nova star. She turned to look at him, a little smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth and when he met her eyes the smile broke out across his features. Laughing in disbelief, he shook his head, turning his attention back look at the shield float bounce down the street. “That’s pretty cool.” He allowed himself a slightly smug and amazed sigh, and it was. If anyone had told him all those years ago that one day he would feature in the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade he would have told them that they were mad. Yet there it was. He found himself smiling as he thought about how his ma and Bucky would have reacted. When they had finished eating, Katie leaned back into him a little more, slouching so that her knees were bent and her feet rested on the bottom of the window. His arms reached round her neck, and he kissed the back of her head as they continued to watch the floats, the gentle sound of Bing Crosby “White Christmas” now playing through the room, the two of them simply enjoying the closeness of one another. ***** Eventually it was time to head downstairs and join Tony, Bruce and Pepper for their dinner. Katie and Pepper left the men to it and finished off the prep before calling them all to the table. As was tradition, as ‘head of the house’ Tony carved the turkey with his usual, trademark drama and they took it in turns to give a few things they were thankful for. Tony was thankful for his friends, family and a decent brand of scotch he had in the cupboard for later, Pepper was thankful for being so fortunate and being surrounded by people she loved, Bruce was thankful for being welcomed into their family home, not just for today but since he had taken up residency just after the Chitauri Battle, and Katie was thankful for being in the presence of people she cared for, and for the last year being so much better than the previous twelve months. She shot a wink at Steve as she said that and he beamed before he realised they were waiting for him.

 "Okay, well…” He cleared his throat. “I guess I’m thankful for being given a second chance, being welcomed by you all…and for, err, you.” He grinned at Katie who gave him a playful roll of the eyes but the flush on her cheeks told him she had understood.

“Awww.” Pepper smiled, as Tony made a gagging noise which resulted in Katie throwing a carrot at him. He pointed at her, frowning.

“No food fights on my floor, Kiddo.” He said sternly and she simply raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip of her wine.

The food was good, not that anyone expected anything else. Both Tony and Banner managed two servings whilst Steve made it through three. And then there was the pie. Steve scoffed down a piece of each, whilst everyone else could only face one, but no one cared. And he found himself secretly pleased that there was enough left for him to scoff later on.

“I’m so glad I wore leggings.” Pepper sighted, leaning back and massaging her stomach.  

“Tell me about it.” Katie moaned. “I’m so glad this denims have an elasticated waist.” She pulled at the middle of her long maroon peplum style top. “Think I’m having a food baby.”

“Yeah, I gotta hand it to you Kiddo…” Tony leaned back in his chair, undoing the top button of his pants and massaging his stomach “That was absolutely awesome.“

Steve’s hand dropped to his girl’s leg under the table and he gave her knee a little squeeze as she reached for her wine glass, before he moving his arm to drop it round the back of her chair. "I certainly prefer the Turkey dead and cooked anyway” Tony added and Katie groaned. “Are you ever gonna let me live that down?” She looked at him. “No” he shook his head. “What’s this?” Steve asked, setting his glass down. “Did she not tell you about the time she brought home a live Turkey one year? Katie sighed as Steve sat up, turning to her, smirking "No…” “I was seventeen and going through a meat is murder phase.” She waved away the comment with her hands. “I was in the way home and saw him. He was the only one left in the farmyard so I liberated him” “By liberated she means stole.” Tony quipped, standing up to retrieve two more bottled of Rijoca from the wet bar as laughs rang round the table. “No one came looking for him.” She shrugged. “Marv lived a happy life for five years in our back garden” “Marv?” Bruce looked at her, a smile creeping across his face. “After the character from Home Alone.” She replied simply

“You had a turkey called Marv?” The scientist deadpanned and she nodded.

“He was a great pet. Used to chase Tony around” “The bird was a fucking menace.” Tony frowned, topping everyone’s glass up. Settling back into his chair, Katie noticed Pepper giving him a look and he started suddenly as if he was remembering something. He leaned forward and looked at Katie. "So I know we don’t do Thanksgiving gifts kiddo but I was thinking yesterday about something you said to me once, about having a vision for a publishing company.”

Katie stole a look at Steve who simply shrugged. It was true, when she had first graduated she had thought about setting up a publishing company, but one that dealt with unknown writers. Her favourite books in the world were the Harry Potter series and during her degree she had been lucky enough to attend a small seminar held by JK Rowling, who had openly discussed her life before becoming a famous author. She had been a single mother, struggling to make ends meet, and even after she had written the books it took her years to get a deal, being rejected by four different publishers before Bloomsbury (a small, independent group) took a chance on her and it paid off for both of them. Katie loved the rags to riches story and since then had always harboured a desire to do the same thing for other authors but it had never really been much more than a pipe dream.

“It was an idea I once had.” She shrugged, looking at Tony. “Then things went a bit crazy.” “Well… how about we make it a bit more than an idea?” Pepper said. “What?” Katie frowned, looking at Pepper, then he brother who nodded. “I want you to put a proper proposal together, business plan, mood and story board that type of thing.” He said, waving his hand in that Tony-esque manner “Then we’re gonna look at what we need to set it up and take it to the board. Run it as a Ltd company under the Parent company of Stark Industries, but you’ll be the Managing Director.” “I…, I can’t run a business!” She stammered. “Didn’t you run the UK branch of SI for a while?” Bruce looked at her, smiling. “That was different.” She pressed. “Why?” Steve asked. “Shut up Steven.” She shot without even looking at him.

There were a few chuckles round the table before Tony continued. “Look, you don’t need to work.” He shrugged. “You have enough capitol behind you plus the revenue from the business as it to live your life out as an IT girl,  but we both know you’ll end up killing someone if you get bored, and that’s likely to be Cap seeing as you see him most so this is for him as much as you.” “Thanks Tony.” Steve tipped his glass to the Inventor who winked. Katie pondered. It really had been a dream of hers since leaving Uni, putting her degree and passion into her work and she would be lying if she said the thought didn’t excite her but it was a hell of a big commitment, and what if it all failed?

“I’ll help you.” Pepper smiled at Katie who was biting her lip. "I’ll proof read the proposal and I’ll be there every step of the way whilst you set up.” She leaned back in her chair. "The week before Christmas there’s another board meeting. I suggest we use that to pitch the idea.” 

“I think this could be a great opportunity for you and Stark Industries.” Tony looked at Katie. “And you’ll get full autonomy over it all, I promise.” This was amazing. She looked at Steve who nodded encouragingly. “What is it you keep saying to me? You’ll never know until you try?” he smiled at her. She took a deep breath and looked around the table before throwing caution to the wind and letting out a huge grin. “Ok. Fuck it. Let’s do it.” **** After another half an hour or so of chatter, and a bottle of champagne to celebrate Katie’s agreement to the business idea, everyone chipped in to clear the table before retiring to the plush living area of Tony and Pepper’s floor for more drinks and chat. Then the alcohol really did began to flow, Steve and Tony moving onto the scotch,  the soldier watching as everyone around him descended into that well recognised drunken haze. And then out came ���Drawing Without Dignity’, a game Steve had never played before which was really rather vulgar, but he couldn’t help but enjoy it. The game fast slid into chaos which was to be expected with an extremely competitive Super Soldier who had a natural advantage as he could actually draw, an equally competitive billionaire and a normally mild mannered scientist who also was quite cutthroat when it came to winning it turned out.

Pepper and Katie spent most of the time sniggering at the bickering men, and at the point when they were laughing that much when it was their go, the three boys got so frustrated they banned them from playing. For that, the next time Steve asked Katie what one of the more risqué sayings meant (he had cringed at a fair few of them over the course of the evening) she lied to sabotage him earning her a full on Captain glare. “That was a pretty shitty thing to do.” He grumbled at her as Tony and Bruce were both howling with laughter. “Not my fault Captain Badass doesn’t know what Rimming is!” Katie shot back, wiping away her tears. Steve had to bite back his own laugh at the ridiculous nickname, instead he fixed her with another glare which she returned with a simple shrug of her shoulders. The game ended, and Steve and Tony called it a draw, which was probably the easiest thing to do since Pepper had stopped taking count and tallying towards the end. It was now well after ten pm and Steve looked around the room as Tony stood up, a little unsteady on his feet, teetering back over to the bar.

“I think maybe we’ve had enough.” Pepper hiccupped slightly looked at Tony who had been reaching for another bottle of liquor, wheeled round slightly too fast causing him to stumble into the bar.

Katie cackled as Tony looked at Pepper “Shut up Mom.” he grabbed another bottle of scotch in one hand and the open bottle of Krug the girls were drinking in the other. He walked carefully over towards the sofa, as he dropped down into it heavily, handing the champagne to Katie who was on the floor in between Steve’s legs, her back resting against the sofa. She took it and poured herself and Pepper a glass, quite pleased that she didn’t spill any.

“You know he…he can’t get drunk!”  Tony handed Bruce a now full glass, pointing to Steve.

“That’s sad.” Bruce surmised, taking a sip of his drink before Tony sat bolt upright, and pointed at the scientist.

“Hey, I wonder if Hulk can get drunk?”

“That’s an…that’s an…ex…exper-expediment I don’t think we should do.” Bruce shook his head, hiccups punctuating his speech.

“Absolutely not.” Steve shook his head as Katie cackled.

“But it would be for science purposes.” Tony pressed

Bruce wrinkled his nose and shook his head “No Code Green.” “Spoil sport.” Tony sniffed

They stayed for another hour or so, until Pepper fell asleep. Katie’s cheeks were flushed pink and when she asked for a bottle of water Steve knew it was time to go. After asking Tony if he needed help clearing anything up, which he declined stating housekeeping would be in at some point tomorrow to deal with it, Steve stood up, surprised to find he actually felt a little bit of a head-rush. Ok, so maybe the three bottles of scotch they’d managed to go through had had a little effect after all, but he felt the fizziness ebbing away as he pulled Katie to her feet and she grinned up at him.

“Wanna carry me Soldier?” she asked.

He arched an eyebrow and in one swoop had her over his shoulder, causing her to shriek with laughter as she clutched at his navy blue cardigan jacket.

“Night!” She waved from her upside down position. Tony and Bruce waved distractedly from where they were now trying to mix some form of cocktail at the bar.

“You can put me down now.” Katie patted Steve on his back as they boarded the elevator. “Steve…”

He smirked to himself, ignoring her giggles and protests, swatting lightly at her ass, and didn’t put her down until they reached  the bedroom where he tossed her onto the bed and set about showing her exactly how thankful for her he was

******* If you want to read more about Marv the Turkey, check out the One shot: The Life Of Marv. As with all SSB One Shots, they don’t need to be read to understand the main story...consider them tasty little side dishes.

********

Chapter 12 Part 1

**Original Posting**

[orbitariums]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟���𝐥𝐦 | 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟏𝟎)

note: hey y’all welcome back!! the chapter we’ve all been waiting for is hereee honey chile.

jusss so you know there will not be smut this time around. i took y’alls opinions and my own opinions into account and decided it would be best!! sry if you’re disappointed, i promise u will get smut. and since i’ve made my decision n planned it out it will be juicy and perfeeect. for now i hope y’all enjoy this chapter ! <3 it’s the longest yet so buckle up and share your thoughts with me!!! love u. 

playlist (always always adding new additions, go check it out n listen while u read!!)

warnings: none

word count: 14.4k

     Steve was resisting the urge to pace back and forth in his room that morning. He knew that any minute now, you would receive his gifts, and see the ticket. He was a bit nervous. He just wanted everything to go well. God forbid someone find out by accident and not only ruin the surprise, but discover what you and Steve had been up to.

     Or maybe you'd changed your mind — no, you wouldn't, not without talking to him first. He was really just anticipating the moment he knew you'd actually seen the gifts, which he wouldn't know until you contacted him.

He kept looking over at his phone, glancing down and waiting for the screen to light up with your name. But he knew this was unhealthy, sitting around, waiting for your response. He had nowhere else to go, but he'd retire to the kitchen to make some coffee. Granted, it didn't really do anything for him, but it filled in the time, and distracted him from waiting around for your response.

The clock ticked on as Steve waited. Drinking coffee and reading the paper could only take up so much time out of his day. Soon enough, he was back to waiting. And waiting. Until...

His phone seemed to be ringing with more ferocity than he ever remembered, and he practically snatched it off the table in the meeting room, causing several eyes to glance up at him. He blushed, smiling awkwardly,

    "Gotta take this."

He accepted the call without even looking to see who it was, hurrying out of the office and into his room in brisk, long strides, speaking hurriedly into the phone,

    "Hello?"

    "Steve! Holy shit!" it was your voice on the other end, and Steve was relieved to hear it. Now he could stop anticipating, stop worrying. His heart was soaring just hearing your voice, and he knew you'd received his gift. He was hardly listening as you went on and on, not saying much of anything, just shouting excitedly into the phone.

Once you'd opened the envelope again to see the single plane ticket which read DESTINATION: MANHATTAN with the date and time printed elsewhere, your mouth literally dropped open. It was as shocking as the moment Steve revealed his face to you, but the context was oh so different, and so much better, even. Of course you'd been expecting to see him, and you knew it would be soon, but you hadn't expected it to come about in this way at all. No, not at all.

    Your heart pounded and you dropped the ticket onto the floor, swiping it right back up like it was a check for a million dollars. And those butterflies in your stomach went wild. Your mind was a blur, but one thing was clear: you were actually going to meet Steve. Maybe your reaction would've been different had Steve done this in a more mundane manner, but he had taken you completely by surprise.

    And honestly, you were over the moon with excitement to meet him. So, rightfully so, you were freaking out. You had tripped over yourself trying to find your phone, your hands trembling as you called him.

Steve was grinning from ear to ear at the sound of your voice. He'd never heard you so ecstatic, so happy over something which he was anxiously awaiting your reaction to. And it settled in for Steve too - he was really going to meet you. It was as big a deal to him as it was to you, and the days of waiting only made you both more antsy to meet.

     "Oh my god!" you squealed again for a final time. "Are you for real? How long have you been planning this, how — did you know about this before I went out with my parents? How the hell did you pull this together, how did you- oh god, I should let you talk. But, fuck, seriously? You're serious right now?"

     "Hundred percent," Steve replied, still beaming, closing the door to his room behind him.

You went off again, shouting expletives and declarations of joy into the phone. You knew you weren't being very mindful right now, but fuck it if you weren't. You didn't get nice things like this often. The fact that Steve had taken you seriously and took the dedication to make this happen when you knew it wouldn't be easy? Your reaction was completely validated.

     "You're fucking amazing. You know that?" you blurted, unable to hide your praise, making Steve's cheeks heat up yet again, the curve of a shy grin appearing on his lips.

     “You're sweet," Steve uttered out, his heart feeling warm.

     “Are you blushing, Stevie?" you teased, and he laughed.

     “To answer your other questions. I've been planning it ever since we spoke about it on Facetime, during your party. But I didn't finalize plans until last week. And no, I didn't know about it before you went out with your parents. How'd I pull it together? Well, it was complicated, I had to do a lot of things very discreetly and plan out when I can take time off so I can be with you. But it's not that hard to get plane tickets- granted, it's a private jet—"

You didn't even let Steve finish talking or let that process in your mind before you blurted out,

     "Private jet?!"

You thought nothing more could surprise you, but here Steve was, full of surprises. And honestly, you hadn't expected anything fancy. You figured he'd just pick you up from the airport after an economy flight, and that was enough for you. A private jet, though? It was unfathomable. You'd never even been on a plane past standard class.

Steve's eyebrow raised - had he done too much? Honestly, everything that went into this took a lot of internal debate. He didn't want to do too much, and he didn't want to do too little. But, he figured, after all you two had been through, after all you had been through, you deserved a bit of luxury. Besides, that wasn't all Steve had planned — you didn't know it, but you were in for even more of a shock.

     "Is it too much?" Steve muttered, and you scoffed in disbelief,

     "Hell yeah. Steve, I can't afford to pay you back, I-"

Steve's brows furrowed together as he laughed, realizing why you were reacting this way. He had considered how you might react to the extravagance Steve was planning, but he should've known you'd act like you now owed him something.

     "Come on, princess," he drawled, his voice seeming to drop a few octaves unexpectedly. At the sound of Steve's voice deepening and the new nickname he'd donned for you, you felt your face warm up. "You know you're not paying me back."

You took in a deep breath, suddenly finding it a bit hard to breathe, fanning yourself. You liked this side of Steve for sure. But, that didn't mean you wanted to be super spoiled. You were used to getting special treats from customers, sure, but that was different. That was for work. When it came to romances? The last time you'd been "spoiled" was when your ex-boyfriend gave you flowers, and that was hardly spoiling. You realized now that that was the bare minimum.

So, you weren't used to being spoiled, hell, even really being taken care of by people, be it your parents or your romantic partners. It was a part of the reason you had always felt like you had to ask to be loved, a habit you had to teach yourself to grow out of. Steve didn't make you feel like you had to ask for anything.

     "Right. I just..." you sighed loudly, pressing a hand to your hot forehead. This was a lot for you to take in, overwhelming in the best way. You couldn't believe this was your life right now. "I don't want you to feel like you have to — I mean, it's just... why?"

Steve laughed, shaking his head. He found it adorable how stunned you were by his gestures. He wanted to fly you out and make it an experience. Steve wasn't usually one to go big, so he even surprised himself in his actions, but he thought it was all worth it. It was so unlike him, so unlike anything the Steve a few months before would've expected of him. Out of anyone he knew, he felt like you deserved it.

     "Because you're you. And you deserve it. I just want to make this day special. I figure, why not splurge and go all out? And since you and me both care about the environment, I sent in one of Tony's environmentally friendly jets. Do me a favor, don't push this away. You deserve a treat. You're so hardworking and the gift of seeing you is something I could never repay... but I could at least try."

You felt your heart warm at Steve's words, sinking into your couch with a hand on your chest, feeling your heart flutter as you cooed,

      "Steve, you're such a darling. I... this is the fucking craziest and best thing that's happened to me in a long time. But... just promise me this isn't the beginning of a sugar relationship, because that's not something I'm into."

You were half-joking, but you were serious. Steve didn't seem like the sugar daddy type, but in any case you didn't want being with him to mean that he supplied you with your every need and then some. You didn't side eye people who sought that out, but you were so used to being on your own and making money the way that you did, that someone genuinely devoting all their time to paying you just for existing felt unnatural. You weren't the type to sit back and get paid for nothing. While you understood the appeal, you just couldn't feel comfortable doing it. And you didn't want Steve to think he could buy your time, though you knew he didn't think that.

    "I know. Don't worry, that's not what this is. Just special treatment for a day, is that alright?" Steve asked.

    "It's more than alright," you gave in — you knew Steve had good intentions only, but it was still hard for you to accept that someone would do this for you just because. You were trying to get used to your energy being reciprocated — more than reciprocated, it was overflowed. "I can't thank you enough, Steve. Really."

       "Don't worry about it. I look forward to seeing you," Steve said, and the words felt like a relief just to say them, now that he knew it was a reality.

      "I'm counting down the days," you trilled, laying back on your couch with a dazed smile on your face.

❁❁❁

    "Since when do you have family in New York? Thought your whole fam was California born and raised." Aaliyah quirked a brow, pinching the straw of her strawberry daiquiri.

     "Since... now, I guess," you shrugged.

You were lying your ass off. You had to make up some excuse to Aaliyah as to why, in a week, you would be leaving to New York for two weeks.

    "Huh," Aaliyah furrowed her brows, running it over in her mind and then shrugging. "Well, I'll miss you. Who else am I gonna get drunk off my ass with in the middle of the day?"

You laughed, squeezing Aaliyah's hand. You felt a bit bad for lying, but it was what you had to do for now at least, until you felt comfortable enough to reveal your secret. So you didn't dwell on it. You weren't hurting anyone, and you were honest with her about everything else but this.

     "It's two weeks, not a year."

Aaliyah's eye twitched and she glared at you,

    "Two weeks is a year."

    "I'll write," you rolled your eyes playfully, and she nudged you from across the table.

    "You better."

      In the days leading up to your big day with Steve, you stressed about every little detail. What did you need to pack, what could you leave at home? What clothes should you bring? Would Steve want you to bring something in particular to wear, besides the lingerie he'd bought you? Oh of course not, he wouldn't give a rat's ass what you wore. You didn't know it fully yet, but you could wear a t-shirt with holes in it and dusty sweatpants and he'd still see you as a perfect ten.

    You packed for a few days, and you talked to Steve everyday since that day. Sometimes you could only text, but luckily you could call most of the time. You talked to Steve about norms, as in just basic rules you both had to follow when you were together. It wasn't meant to be restrictive, it was meant to be smart. Neither of you wanted anything getting out before you were ready, so there were precautions you would have to take. You understood that.

     Steve was just as, if not more, nervous than you were about the whole ordeal. He was the one in charge of making sure things went right, making sure you were safe, putting everything together just to see you. He was eager to see you, but you were both full of nerves. Today, you had no time to be nervous — because you were on the way to the airport.

    As requested, you updated Steve about everything. Right now, you were in the backseat of the comfortable uber that Steve sent to you. Your nerves were on one hundred right now. You couldn't stop crossing and uncrossing your legs in the backseat of the black SUV, wiping nervous sweat off your palms.

Steve texted you back, reminding you that you'd be alone at the airport besides the staff. And you knew that hours later, at an airport in New York, he'd be waiting for you. The whole ride there, you stressed about what Steve would be like in real life- what he'd look like, how he'd greet you. You were sure he would be just as sweet as he was over the phone, if not sweeter.

    But god, did the thought of closing the distance make you nervous. You thought back to the day you and Steve first spoke, how different your life was then, and how this wasn't even something that registered to you. You didn't know Steve back then, didn't know who he really was. There wasn't even a chance that you'd even think about this. And now, here you were, about to meet the man you'd found under such strange circumstances.

    When you arrived to the airport, you almost didn't want to look out of the window. You didn't want to see what you knew was right outside — that big, private jet that you just couldn't ignore, darting your eyes towards it once from your car seat and never being able to look away.

    "Here you are," chirped the friendly driver, opening your door for you. You were frozen in your seat, hadn't even taken off your seatbelt. The driver looked at the private jet, then at you with a warm smile. "Lucky you."

You refocused, back to planet Earth, and let out a shaky breath. You hadn't even stepped on the jet and already you were going through rigor mortis.

     "Yeah," you replied with a bit of a neurotic laugh.

    You unlatched the seatbelt and wobbled out of the car— when had your legs turned to jelly? You were trying to contain yourself, trying not to act like a fool over something so material, but God, you thought. Nothing had ever been so majestically presented to you. You'd never been with anybody who had the means to do this, and that didn't matter, because you'd never been with anyone who would make these grand gestures just because. You weren't asking for a private jet, but from the way you'd been treated in your past relationships, you'd think that you were.

    "Holy shit," you murmured under your breath, and lurched forward, the driver carrying your luggage behind you. The steps to the jet were already at the floor, and all you could do was stand at the foot with wide eyes. You could see the staff were kindly waiting for you to come in, and you called up to them, awestruck. "Do I just go in?"

    "Come on up, Miss! It's all yours," a staff member encouraged you, calling you by your last name like you were some important administrator.

    This did something for you. You made a livable wage, and had some leftover for the occasional treat— like selfcare or stuff for your cam shows. But this was the life of a millionaire. And although you resisted initially, the fact that you knew Steve had arranged that you got treated with the utmost respect during your travel made it a lot harder for you to.

     You weren't on some sort of power trip, but this once again proved the kind of gentleman that Steve was. It made you feel more comfortable, knowing that you'd be treated like you belonged here, when you felt anything but. He cared about you, and you'd never really had that before. Not like this.

     You actually stepped foot inside, and when you saw what was before you, you audibly gasped, brows raising far up your forehead. You'd never seen anything like this. Sleek, modern furniture adorned the interior of the jet, which stretched so far you didn't think it'd be possible to see everything. You nearly panicked — there was no way Steve had done all this for you. No way.

    It was basically a mansion, compacted into a private jet — which sounded like the most ludicrous thing you'd ever heard of. Everything inside had a color scheme, cool neutrals and splashes of color here and there. The seats were plush and huge, leaving leg room for days. There was even a big TV screen in the middle of this particular section. Everything about this screamed luxury.

    "Welcome! First time on a private jet?" Eliza, an employee, asked, and her presence was a shock to you — you were too busy staring in awe at everything you were seeing.

     "Yeah... is it noticeable?" you joked, a hand over your chest.

     "I won't say," she grinned, and you shook your head, chuckling.

     "This is all so... amazing. I-I've never seen anything like this. It's like, you see it in movies and online but... but for someone to actually bring it to me? Just because?"

     "He must really like you," said Eliza— of course, she didn't actually know who he was.

    "Yeah," you said tearfully, trying to avoid crying and becoming even more of a mess than you already were.

Thankfully, you weren't scared— just amazed. You were sure you'd settle in at some point, but right now, you were kind of in paradise. You just had to get used to it first.

    "Please, sit anywhere! Or I can give you a tour, let you get accustomed."

    "Please," you answered immediately. Maybe after she showed you everything, you'd feel a bit less overwhelmed.

You let Eliza lead you through the jet, showing you all of its amenities and rooms. Each time you thought nothing more could surprise you, there was something new up until the end.

    For one, there was a kitchen where a team of chefs would work to serve you - some of your favorite things were on the menu, mimosas included. Steve had really been paying attention when you spoke to him about the little things. You didn't realize how much he genuinely enjoyed talking to you, how he died to hear the most trivial things about you and compartmentalized it.

    Hell, there was even a bedroom with your name encrusted on a gold plaque attached to the door - ridiculous, you thought, but so amazing. Attached to that bedroom was a full bathroom. Everything was top tier, nothing surprising considering this was Stark property, but still, it was crazy to see. By the end, while you were glad you were familiar with everything on the jet, you still couldn't help but feel floored.

   You felt like a princess - adorned with special privileges you'd never even thought of in your comfortable little life in sunny southern California. Steve was opening up a whole new world of options to you, and doing it so gracefully, and just because? It was the definition of being treated like royalty.

    You were a logical woman, and you had a good hold of your emotions. You didn't often act "childish", but you felt like you were giving into those giddy girlish feelings that only Steve evoked. But you were still young, still someone who liked to have a good time. You didn't want to be in your feelings over material things, but it was so much more than that. You were grateful you were even getting to experience this, but even more grateful for the person who had given you this experience to begin with.

Eliza could see you were getting emotional, and placed a hand on your shoulder,

    "Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. We'll let you know when we take off in a few minutes."

You let out a deep breath. It was all sinking in. Somehow, this was your reality. You took a look around, and shrugged — you might as well take full advantage of it. You slumped your shoulders, dropped all your worries. You were in luxury - you'd act like it, and enjoy it, instead of overthinking for once. You walked into one of the lounge rooms, plopping down on a reclining chair that felt like heaven just to sit down in, sighing as you sunk into the supple plush. Still in awe, you texted Steve, expressing your disbelief and excitement all at once, sending him a video of your lush surroundings.

     Steve grinned when he received the video from you, glad that you were enjoying your time. By how you reacted the other day, he was sort of afraid you might feel too overwhelmed and be unable to enjoy the experience. But all Steve really wanted was for you to have a good day, to feel like you were important. He could do that without getting you a big private jet, but if he was going to fly you out, he was going to fly you out. He didn't mind dropping a bag on you- for him it was nothing, Steve hardly touched his money. He wanted you to feel first class. Hell, this was higher than first class.

He texted you back, telling you he hoped you enjoyed and to text him if you needed anything. But honestly, you didn't think you'd need anything more.

You spent the remaining duration of the flight in the private bathroom, finishing your hair and makeup and choosing an outfit. You weren't stressing too hard over what to wear, but you wanted to look good for Steve. You settled on a white sundress with floral decals that accentuated your features just right. You stood in front of the mirror for a long time, checking yourself out. You knew you looked good, but you were just a bit nervous since you were landing in a few minutes now.

You tried to spend the time waiting for the plane to land by scrolling through your phone, but you found yourself switching mindlessly through apps, your mind blank except for one thing - Steve. Then, you heard the announcement saying that you had officially landed. You had noticed the jet getting lower, but you had been too distracted by your thoughts to notice that you were here. In New York, middle of the day, about to see him.

❁❁❁

Steve was just as nervous as you were, standing in the landing area, which again was empty and private, hands in his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his toes. He was really going to see you, and he knew you'd be everything he imagined and more. He had been waiting here for a good hour, because he didn't want to miss a thing, and now he knew he'd be seeing you in a few minutes, even a few seconds.

And when the door opened, and he saw the figure of you standing there at the entrance, he froze. Even from afar, you were beautiful. And you were real. Not that he'd had any doubts, but after the amount of time he'd spent talking to you on a screen, it seemed impossible that he would really see you in real life, even as he finalized his plans and the day came closer. It still didn't seem feasible. And now, here you were just a few feet away from him, and his heart stopped. Whatever he was expecting, you were even more, which seemed unimaginable. His mouth went dry, he was at a loss for words, and his eyes had never been more blown.

And you would've froze too, if your heart didn't tell you to run. To you, it was a clumsy, graceless run. To Steve it was cinematic, like you were the heroine running right out of the movie screen and towards him, the flash of you growing closer and closer until you were finally there, jumping up at him.

     He caught you with ease as you leaned into him, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. You wondered if he could feel your heart beating against his own, or feel your chest pounding from all the nerves, all the excitement, from the feeling of true fulfillment. Because in front of you was your Steve Rogers, nothing less. You were feeling the same feelings of disbelief. After months of talking, weeks of planning this out, finally it had been manifested. Finally it had happened successfully, without interruption, and you were in front of each other.

You buried your face in his neck, taking in his scent - he smelled like fresh air and clean linen, and surprisingly... like home. And in his arms, you definitely felt like you were home. You actually felt comfortable, like you could trust him, like being in his arms was right, like you weren't moving too fast.

As much as you tried to imagine it, your thoughts couldn't come close to how strong Steve actually was, how much his arms wrapped around you with ease, holding you tight and close and secure, how big and powerful his body was against you. Like no matter what, you would mold into him perfectly, and he would just wrap you up and hold you like you were the best Christmas gift.

     "Ooh, I wanna see your face," you took your face out of the crook of his neck, though you were quite comfortable there.

You pulled back to see him, your arms still around his neck, and he held onto you still, his entire face beaming while he took a good look at you as well. You let out a pleased sigh, a feeling lifting off of your chest like you'd been waiting for this and it had been hounding you - which wasn't far off from how you felt. You reached out and squeezed his cheeks in your hands, doing it without a second thought. It gave you no greater joy than to know that you could do that to him, that you were the only person who could do that to him.

     "Oh, you're so beautiful," you sighed dreamily, looking into his sparkling blue eyes. You'd always loved looking at those eyes over Facetime calls.

You didn't think his eyes could be any bluer than they already appeared on screen. It felt so surreal, being with him. And in the midst of all the surreality, you were filled with an impenetrable bliss. It wasn't shocking, it was more like a dazed feeling, dreamlike. You got what you wanted, what you deserved.

Steve couldn't get enough of you, even with you right here in front of him, legs and arms wrapped around him. If it was possible, he was even more blissful than you right now. And it was a moment of pride for the both of you. Had you continued on in fear, not trusting each other, not trusting yourselves, this would've never happened. It was a huge accomplishment for the both of you.

Steve took in all of your features, and he couldn't deny that the glow you possessed in real life was even brighter than your glow on screen, the same thing that had drawn him to you that very first night. You were glowing, smiling the way you had been before. Just to see you, it was worth the wait. And the feeling of your soft fingers squishing his cheeks had him smiling like a little boy at a toy store.

His eyes drifted down to your glossy lips, which he couldn't wait to kiss, then your bright eyes, and he uttered,

    "You're gorgeous, YN. I can't believe I'm finally seeing you. You're everything I imagined and more."

You couldn't believe the feeling that was in your heart, just from finally hearing his voice in real life. To Steve, your voice was like warm honey toast, alluring and adorable all at once. And his voice was music to your ears, that voice you dreamt of hearing. You couldn't believe anything you were feeling right now. It was nothing that you'd ever felt before, and it made tears well up in your eyes once again.

    "This is so unreal. You're... here. You're holding me. I just got off a fucking private jet to meet you!" you squealed, recounting the events of the past few hours.

Steve chuckled,

    "I'm still having trouble understanding that this is real."

    "Doesn't get any realer than this, Steve," you smirked, although you felt the same way, and his knees nearly buckled at the way you said his name.

You slowly unwrapped your legs from his waist, and he supported your hips as he lowered you gently onto the ground. Your arms were still around his neck, and your body was still pressed against his, this time standing on the ground in front of him. Your knees felt bendy from how much you were leaning into him. But you didn't want to ever be any further from him.

He pulled you closer by the hips, as if you could get any closer,

    "Mind saying my name again?"

    "Hmm, Steve?" you cocked your head to the side as if you were trying to remember his name, and he chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at you.

Your personality was even more than he'd imagined, too.

    "That's the one," he replied. He ran his hand along your face, caressing your jaw and cheek, sending tingles down your spine that he wasn't even aware of. "God, I can't get over you."

    "Me either," your lips quirked up, and you hummed, incredibly intrigued as you noticed the light bristles of hair forming along his face. "Mmm!"

    "What's that?"

     “You're growing out your beard, huh?"

Steve absentmindedly stroked the beginnings of a beard that were growing, and you placed your hand over his own, guiding his hand against his chin and jaw. He relished the feeling of your hand over his.

    "Trying to."

    "You don't have to try. You're Steve Rogers. That beard'll grow like nobody's business," you chuckled, and he grinned at your fast remarks, blushing at the compliment.

    "Steve!" you trilled, pleased to see this in real life, your eyes glimmering as you watched pink flood his cheeks. "You're blushing."

Steve bit down, and your eyes followed the place where his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. You both wanted to kiss each other, you both could hardly control the way your eyes lingered on one another's lips for far too long. But you were waiting for the time when it felt just right — after all, you were just now meeting each other. But somehow he knew already that you were just the person he needed in his life - playful, but one of the realest people he'd ever met. You balanced each other out perfectly.

    "And you're gorgeous," Steve replied, looking you up and down unashamedly, admiring the way your simple yet pretty sundress clung to your body, highlighting your best features. "And you've been traveling for too long. Let's get you to the hotel, hmm?"

And just like that, you were settling into one another like clockwork, like this was natural despite how amazed you were by one another. He turned around, quick to put his arm over your shoulder to keep you close to him, leading you to the car. Your heart was still pounding hard and fast in your chest, your brain still scrambled even though you felt like you fit so naturally with him. He seemed so majestic up close, so much like the Captain America that everyone adored and revered. He was the walking definition of a picture perfect American Dream, a glint of hope that that dream still existed. You gained a newfound respect for him just by standing next to him, encapsulating all his undebatable glory. And in this moment, you had him all to yourself.

    Steve felt a strange buzz, just from the friction of you being so close to him. Both your feelings of excitement seemed to create a high frequency vibration that you could literally feel. You were both anticipating what was next, and loving it because you knew you'd be together.

    On the walk to the car, you couldn't help but gaze up at him the entire time in amazement, your eyes sparkling. Steve couldn't deny that he felt your eyes on him, but some part of him made him too shy to simply look down and make eye contact, because he knew he'd get lost in the moment and stare forever. He didn't want to scare you off. Still, that didn't mean that he didn't spare a few quick glances, followed by a quirk of his lip that was almost a smile, pulling you closer under his arm each time.

      Steve opened the door for you and helped you up into the passenger's seat. He really didn't have to, but who were you to deny Steve picking you up as gently as he did, then placing you softly on the seat? He got into the driver's seat and started the car.

    "Hope travel wasn't too bad," Steve offered- he was honestly trying to have natural conversation, but his nerves forced him to keep it to small talk.

Honestly, all he wanted to do was go on about how beautiful you were, how he was intimidated to even look at you too long, but he knew that would be weird.

    You on the other hand, were nervous, but not to the point where you felt like you couldn't find the right words to say. You figured he'd just need to settle in, that he liked you just as much as he did on screen, but needed to adjust. The situation was new for the both of you, and Steve was really putting himself out there. Besides, even though you clicked, you had still just met each other.

    The affection was there, but you knew it would take some prodding for Steve to really feel comfortable. You could tell he was sort of doubting himself like he often did, probably wondering if he was even fit for you. And you had no problem reminding him that he was more than fit. You laughed and shook your head, nudging Steve's arm playfully,

    "Are you seriously making small talk right now? Also, you put me on a private jet. You tell me how you think my travel was."

      Steve chuckled, a grin breaking out on his face as he began to feel more comfortable. Your playfulness, your honest sarcasm, honestly made him feel less hesitant. You joked with him like he was an old friend, and everytime you were sarcastic with him it actually uplifted him, reminded him who he was when he started to doubt himself and you had to give him reminders.

Your friendly demeanor made Steve feel more at ease. He just wanted you to like him. He wanted everything to be perfect, and he kept forgetting everything he'd learned - not to let fear get the best of him.

    "You're right, you're right," Steve nodded, and you shook your head playfully, still looking over at him. He stopped at a red light, and finally looked over at you, locking eyes with you and taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

    "What?" you teased.

    "Nothin'," Steve played along, grinning gently.

    He jerked back to realization when a car honked from behind him — the light had gone green already and he was too busy smiling at you to notice. You stifled a chuckle, leaning back into your seat and looking out at the road before you while he drove forward, but he glanced at you, smirking because you weren't hiding your smile behind your hand well enough.

    "What's so funny?" Steve chaffed, and you feigned oblivion, raising your brows and looking over at him,

    "Hmm?"

    "You heard me," Steve continued, all in good fun.

    "Oh, so this is how we're gonna do this, huh?" you couldn't help but break out into laughter, unable to keep up the act for too long.

Steve shrugged,

    "No clue what you're talking about."

    "Okay, I'll bite. I think what might be funny is the fact that you can't keep your eyes off me and that's why you just got honked at for missing the green light? I don't know, I could be wrong, but!" you threw your hands up in the air, unable to fight the smile that spread on your face.

Steve blushed — he knew you'd noticed, but being put on the spot so unashamedly for his fixation for you made him feel bashful. Although it was a relief to see that you definitely liked his attention. And you kept him on his feet. Your energy was such a breath of fresh air. He was hardly thinking of his Avenger friends now, and his worries about things going wrong seemed to dissipate with every word you spoke, every glance you spared at him.

    "You had to mention it," Steve sighed, and you giggled,

    "I was gonna spare you! But you play dirtier than I expected."

You just sat there chuckling together, feeling the positive energy seep into the space. Steve definitely felt less nervous, and the banter opened up more space for developing your relationship.

    You looked out the window, pressing your hand against it as you drove past new faces and places. You'd never been to New York before, unless a rest stop on a flight with your parents counted. But you'd never actually explored the city, big and flashy and somehow warm, inviting. Maybe it was because you were with Steve that New York felt comfortable and even homey, but you were a California girl at heart. You could stand being here for two weeks though, at least if it meant you got to be with Steve.

    The city started to become less of a blur as you began passing by even bigger, more luxurious buildings and glamorous restaurants and clubs that were just waiting to be lit up come nighttime. Your eyes widened as you marveled at the tall buildings that yet again screamed wealth, and you wanted to ask Steve where exactly this hotel was.

     "Think you could get used to New York?" Steve asked, practically reading your mind.

He knew how much you loved SoCal, and he just wanted to make sure this place wasn't too much of a culture shock for you. He wanted you to feel as comfortable as you could going from surfer paradise to concrete jungle.

     You looked at him over your shoulder, and just the sight of you like that made his chest pang with desire.

    "Oh yeah, New York's nice. You know, I used to think it was true that all New Yorkers were mean. But then I met you," you winked, and Steve nodded,

    "Brooklyn kids do it best, what can I say?"

    "So this is Manhattan," you replied, and Steve nodded again, pulling into an empty road and heading towards the back of a building which you hadn't seen in its entirety yet. But even looking at the deserted back, you could tell that the building was nice, and expensive too.

    "Yep, Manhattan it is. And here we are," Steve chirped, seeming pleased to have gotten to the destination without interruption. He rubbed the nape of his neck, feeling sheepish again. "Sorry about this, we've gotta enter through the back. Less attention."

You could tell he was sort of feeling bad about this and you frowned, your brows knitting together.

    "Steve," you said in the sternest voice you could manage. "Quit feeling bad. I literally have no complaints, as long as I'm with you. I get it, really."

    Steve nodded, looking down at his lap. He knew you'd understand, you both discussed things like this in advance. But he didn't want you thinking he was ashamed of you at all. Some things just had to be kept secret, for sanity and for safety.

    "Got it. I just want you to love it, that's all," Steve said, and his genuinity made your heart warm like it had just settled down and snuggled into a blanket in front of a crackling fireplace.

Steve got out of the car and was on the other side faster than you could even unbuckle, opening the door for you and holding his hand out for you to take.

    "You're fast," you chuckled, taking his hand and stepping out, your dress flowing in the wind, an image that Steve kept locked in his mind.

    He shrugged,

     "Super soldier things."

He took you in through the back and checked the both of you in discreetly with an employee who had been waiting for you two. It all felt so exclusive and secretive, and made you a bit antsy to see the full extent, but you had no worries. You got on the elevator with Steve while a few employees took all your stuff up to the room, watching as all the floors passed by you in the glass elevator. It wasn't until you actually got to your floor, floor 31, that you even realized the full magic of the luxury hotel.

    When you stepped out, your jaw dropped. Just the floor was the definition of luxury, and you hadn't even been inside the room yet. It was decked out in marble flooring, large windows all about for perfect lighting and an unbelievable view of the afternoon skyline. The decor was beautiful and the entire floor smelled like fragrant flowers. You weren't sure what was more impressive — this or the private jet. Steve noted how you literally stopped in your tracks, then turned around to face him with almost needy eyes, like you had to know if this was real.

    "You're serious?" was all you could say.

    "D'you like it?" Steve asked, leaning forward.

    "It's amazing! I can't believe — Steve, I feel so bad," you said, your voice growing distant as you wandered the halls, straying away from the room.

He caught up fast, chuckling to himself as he gently grabbed onto your arm and looped it between his own, leading you in the right direction. Then he paused, standing in front of you and towering over you. You felt your entire being softening when he did that, it was like he was both dominating you and comforting you in the simplest of ways. You looked up at him with unintentionally coy eyes, glancing between his pink lips and his ocean eyes.

    "Hey. Don't feel bad. I'll say it as many times as it needs to be said — I want to do this for you. It's no trouble for me," he shrugged, and usually you would've made some remark about him implying that he was rich, but the way he was standing over you right now rendered you speechless.

    You felt like you had melted into a big ice cream puddle and all you could do was nod slowly and look up at him with dopey, wide eyes and set lips.

    "Okay," you uttered, your voice faint, and before you knew it he was leaning over you and bear hugging you, throwing all of himself (not all, because he would literally crush you) into the hug and just wrapping his arms around you.

    Even though you'd been close to each other since you met, and onscreen you'd been closer than you could even imagine, this felt like the most intimate you'd been since meeting each other in real life. You felt protected and safe in this moment. You liked how Steve hadn't gotten tired of you despite having to remind you that this wasn't any trouble for him and that you shouldn't feel bad for being spoiled by someone who liked you and wanted to do it for you. You were overwhelmed by his scent and the warmth of his strong body.

    When he pulled away you felt weak with endearment, and that ice cream puddle feeling hadn't gone away. Of course, Steve hardly noticed the effect he had on you, and just took your hand in his and led you to the room. This initiation of holding hands had both your hearts pounding — any physical touch did. His hands were big and muscular, and your hand fit in just perfectly.

      "And here we are," Steve opened the door wide, leading to the unbelievable room.

It was more like an entire house, actually. A penthouse, to be specific. You were surrounded by glass windows that once again offered a view of the whole city. The suite was the perfect mix of contemporary and minimalist. It was luxurious, but not too stark, comfortable enough that you could actually sleep there and not feel like you were sleeping in in some strange utopia. You couldn't help but explore immediately, trying to see everything, like it was sand falling from between your fingers much too fast.

There was a bedroom with the biggest king sized bed you'd ever seen, a bright and airy bathroom with a freestanding white marble tub and a clear glass shower that faced a window, a kitchenette with a fully set up bar, and a huge living room with a near movie sized TV screen. There was even a balcony with stone flooring, a jacuzzi and a plethora of lounge chairs, not to mention another bar.

    Hell, you couldn't keep up with all the things you were seeing, racing around the penthouse suite and trying to wrap your mind around it. Steve had done enough to show you that you shouldn't doubt it or feel guilty about being around such opulence for a day, but you were damn amazed.

Steve just followed you as you raced around, laughing to himself at your reactions to everything and your utter disbelief. It was wholesome, and a reminder of the fact that even though you had a good head on your shoulders, at heart you were a blossoming young woman who had never experienced these things before.

    "Steve," you groaned, falling back onto the plush bed, which was perfectly made up. You felt dizzy.

    "Yeah doll?" he asked, and you smiled, suddenly feeling eager to hear the nickname again. It made such a difference to hear it in person.

    "This is amazing. I could kiss you," you said nonchalantly, then held yourself up on your forearms and looked up at him.

He was too busy being shy again, turning away slightly and kicking at the ground. He knew he looked ridiculous, but you were amused. You knew exactly the effect you had on him, you always had. But seeing it up close and personal was somehow even better. Half the time you didn't even mean to purposefully tease him. He got bashful all on his own, just a reminder of the power he knew you had over him in that sense.

    You smirked, just watching him try to get his act together again.

    "Ahh, thanks, YN. I'm glad you like it."

    You sighed, still laying back and making a snow angel with just your arms against the bedsheets.

    "You know, if you do want me to be your sugar baby..." you trailed off, clearly joking.

Steve shook his head playfully,

    "You're a handful, you know that?"

    "Of course!" you quipped, and sprung up, sitting upright on the bed, dangling your feet above the floor. "So, what do you wanna do?"

     "Well, I had a few things planned, but it's really up to you."

    "Yeah? Like what?" you chirped, and Steve grinned at your voice and how intrigued you sounded.

    "Uh, well. There's a spa on this floor as well. Private, of course. I gotta say, I'm not great at relaxing, or being touched by strangers."

    "Steve," you whined, reaching out for his hand and cupping it between both your hands. "You don't have to force yourself to do anything. But you do deserve to relax. This is as much for you as it is for me. I mean, you put this all together, I can't thank you enough. Least you could do is get a massage."

    Steve was endeared by your sentiment, and you were right. He needed to relax. He definitely was not as uptight as he was before he even knew of you, but he was still usually in a work mode. You'd only be at this hotel for one night, and it was only right that you both take full advantage of its amenities. After all, it was luxury for a reason. You were here to be pampered and be together.

    "Yeah..." Steve looked down at where your hands were cupped over his, and smiled fondly. "You're right. I'm real good at being stressed out."

    "I know," you kneaded his hands. "But I can help you relieve that stress."

You bit down on your lip, knowing that could mean so many different things, but here you really had innocent intentions, your face brightening up as you got an idea.

    "Okay. So you want to relax, but not while a stranger is touching you," you restated, and Steve nodded with a hum. "I have an idea."

| | |

    "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Steve chuckled as you flitted around him like a fairy, getting everything together.

About an hour later, once your stuff had been returned to the room and you had both settled in just a bit more, you were practically dragging Steve out of the room and to the spa area where you'd carry out your idea. Your request was simple when you'd called the spa over the phone in your suite: you wanted all the material there, but no employees. That way it'd be more personal — how hard could it be to do the same things that the staff did? It wasn't defeating the purpose if it meant you got to bond alone.

    "Uh, I mean I've never done this before but I usually know what I'm doing, so I'm gonna go with yes," you answered, probably more sure of yourself than Steve was.

    "I trust you," Steve smiled.

    "Smart choice," you smirked, looking at him from over your shoulder. "Okay, I think everything's ready. The question is - are you?"

    "I don't know, am I?" Steve cocked his head, eyeing you as you got everything ready, admiring you once again.

    "Not in that, you're not," you said, gesturing to the loose fitting t-shirt he still had on.

You said it casually, but truthfully, the pace of your heartbeat was quickening, thinking of actually seeing him take his shirt off. You had a lot more experience than Steve, so it wasn't like it was some new and strange experience, but the thought of seeing even more of Steve made you nervous.

    "Oh. Do I just-" Steve gazed up at you, raising his brows.

    "Mhm," you hummed quietly, biting down on your lip and watching him.

Steve felt nerves too for the same reason as you, but not because he was insecure with his body, so he lifted his shirt up with ease and placed it on the bed beside him. The silence felt deafening as he looked up at you and gauged your reaction. And honestly, you were just standing there looking at him, your lips pursed and your chest visibly rising up and down as you switched from automatic breathing to manual.

    You didn't have a huge preference for body type, but Steve was certainly a force to be reckoned with, big and hulking both with and without a shirt. You noticed the pleased, expectant expression on Steve's face and came back to earth, blinking away all the thoughts that flooded your mind.

    "Okay!" you practically gasped out, all the breath you were holding in leaving you at once. "You can lay back. And um, I'll just-"

Steve lay back and you approached the massage table, your breath hitching in your throat as you climbed up quickly and got on top of him, placing your legs on either side of him so you were straddling him. And don't get it wrong, you were confident. You put your body out there almost every night for hundreds of strangers, and that definitely boosted your sexuality in real time. It wasn't hard for you to perform suggestive acts or use your sensuality, but actually touching Steve felt so sacred — like you both wanted every touch to be precise. You had the chemistry online, it was just a matter of how the chemistry progressed face to face, sinking into the reality that felt so surreal.

Steve put his hands on your hips to steady you and your body twitched just slightly, Steve looking up at you with innocent, inexperienced eyes.

It was quiet now, and you focused on the task at hand, Steve's hands dropping to his sides while you diligently went to work. You spread oil on your hands and reached down to touch Steve's face, a small smile on your concentrated face. You were paying more attention to your hands, but Steve was looking right up at you, admiration full in his eyes, a small smile on his face. He was letting you do the work, lightly massaging oil onto Steve's face, keeping your fingers gentle and your pace slow and relaxing.

You were focused, but certainly, you couldn't help but be hyper aware of the fact that you were literally on top of Steve while he had no shirt on (and looked damn good without it). The innocuous yet obvious sensuality of the moment stirred the both of you. But rather than act upon it, you let it stay innocent. Steve cherished the feeling of your fingers lightly tapping and massaging against his face. You may not have been a licensed massage therapist, but you knew what you were doing.

    "You sure you haven't done this before?" Steve uttered, his words almost slurred from how relaxed he was.

    "One hundred percent," you offered a tiny smile, your face hovering just over Steve's, locking eyes with him. Your voice was gentle and soft. "Close your eyes for me."

Steve was entranced, fully into this experience, and honestly probably because it was you doing it. Had it been anyone else, he probably would've been squirming around, because he didn't know how to relax. But you were his oasis. A smile cracked out onto your lips at the sight of Steve underneath you with his eyes closed, totally relaxed. You'd hoped this would be the result. And you couldn't help but knead your fingers a little extra when you got down to his chest, still mind boggled by his muscles.

    "Just let me know if it feels alright," you said, your voice just above a whisper as you placed hot stones carefully on Steve's face and massaged his skin with them. "That okay?"

    "Hmm," Steve hummed affirmatively in response.

You watched as his chest rose and fell at a steady, relaxed rate, completely at ease. Every once in a while, he let out a sigh or a quiet groan that made your breath hitch in your throat. But again, you let it stay innocent. It was just Steve's luck that you didn't notice, or feel the tent that was growing in his pants just from the touch of your hands against his face. It was just that good.

When you were done, you didn't have the heart to tell him it was over. He seemed to have no complaints though, although he knew he could stay like this for much longer. His hands gripped your wrists, then he slid his fingers in between yours, cupping your hands together by his sides. You beamed down at him, amused at the way his eyes seemed glazed over and totally blissed out.

    "How was it!" you exclaimed, excited to see how pleased he was.

    "YN," he massaged his thumb into the nook of your hand. "I think you're actually good at everything you do."

You shook your head and Steve rolled his eyes.

    "You're being modest," he said with a wave of his hand. "Now, what can I do for you? Because that was incredible."

    "Steve, no way. You're not doing a thing for me. You've done... more than enough."

    "I appreciate that, doll, but you do know this is mutual. If you hadn't already gotten your nails done," Steve flopped your hand up playfully, and you giggled, "I would try. I guess it's best that you've already got them done, though. Don't know how accurate my nail painting would be. But I could give you a massage, or try my hand at a facial."

You hopped off of Steve and the massage table, bouncing up and down slightly on the floor,

    "Steve, as much as I adore that idea, I'm solely focused on making you feel relaxed right now. Though, if you really want to do something for me, you could... get in the pool?"

You skipped backwards, and pulled off the loungewear you'd changed into for the spa, clad in a bra and underwear beneath. You simply winked while Steve sat upright, eyes widening at the sight of you half naked in front of him. Sure, it was technically the same as a bikini, but just seeing you like that unexpectedly made him start. You couldn't be anymore coquettish right now, flaunting your body with a twirl before you jumped into the pool.

You disappeared for a few moments, then swam back up to the top, pushing back the water that speckled your face with your hands. Steve found his mouth going dry - you were so beautiful and alluring without even trying to be. He stood up and walked over to the edge of the pool, glaring down at you while you gazed up at him with playful, inviting eyes.

    "You're gorgeous," was all Steve could manage to utter out, kneeling slightly so he was more at level with you.

You bit down on your lip and gestured for Steve to come closer, enticing him with your beguiling eyes. You placed your hand on his face, wet hand against his firm jaw, and pulled his head closer as if—

Then, a loud splashing sound and the feeling of being submerged in water as Steve fell in. He swam back up to the top easily, pushing his hair back and wiping water away from his eyes as he regained his bearings. The accomplished grin on your face told him all he needed to know, and he lunged forward, grabbing you in his arms with ease and lifting you up, your back against his chest.

    "You're gonna pay for this, you know that?" he scolded you playfully, and you laughed giddily, your vision blurred as Steve spun you around against him in the water, unable to withhold your delirium.

    "I knew you wouldn't get in unless I forced you in! You think I don't know you by now?" you cackled, trying and failing to free from his grasp.

He let you go, but that didn't mean he wasn't right up on you, looming over you in the pool and pressing up against you, your bodies flush with one another. You were still laughing, but that feeling was coming back again, that feeling that you were melting once more.

     "I'm not gonna forget this," Steve warned, pursing his lips in a triumphant smirk.

     "If I could dunk you, I would," you narrowed your eyes at him, pressing your finger into his chest.

    "Oh my god, would you look at that?" Steve questioned sarcastically, picking you up by the waist without trouble and placing your legs around his neck, falling back deep into the water as if you had actually dunked on him.

You managed to open your eyes under the pool water, blinking excessively but catching a long glimpse at Steve, who was pressed beneath you. You grinned and swam up to the surface, Steve following short after.

    "Why, I never!" you pressed your hand against your chest, gasping dramatically. "Steve, you slick debonair. Did you just use that as an excuse to have my legs around your neck?"

Steve, who had thought nothing of it, was now wide-eyed and gulping, his mind traveling to a sinful place — particularly, the place between your thighs.

He handled it with grace though, raising a brow and cocking his head,

    "Don't think I'll need an excuse."

This time it was your turn to react, your mouth dropping open into a small o shape. Steve had even shocked himself. But you were really getting comfortable with one another, and he was just catching up to your pace.

    "I..." you didn't even know what to say, because just like Steve you were lost in thought as well, blinking and smiling blankly. You glared at him in a lighthearted manner. "You win that one. But you're a bad man."

    "Am I?" Steve chuckled, his voice deep and playful.

     "You're a bad man who puts me on a private jet and takes me to a very bougie hotel. Honestly, you're horrible," you joked.

    "You're right. They should take away my shield."

     You spent at least an hour in the pool, fucking around and just having fun, Steve placing you on his shoulders and swimming as fast as he could from one end of the pool to the other. You continuously tried to dunk and or splash each other, and you kept getting closer than any of you two could handle, then not actually doing anything about it.

You were beginning to prune up though, so each of you quickly rinsed off using the shower at the spa, then walked back to the room, wrapped up in towels. But you realized that you hadn't seen anyone else, not even in passing. When you asked Steve about it, he very nonchalantly mentioned that he had the whole floor blocked off for them specifically to guarantee maximum privacy and comfort. Yet another thing he did that was so mind blowing to you.

    "You hungry?" Steve asked. "I ordered room service for dinner."

It was getting darker outside, you had noticed, and nightfall was quickly approaching. Your mind wandered to thoughts of a romantic, private dinner with Steve, and you sighed in ecstasy. This day was literally perfect. You were more rejuvenated than you had ever been, and back at home rejuvenation and selfcare was a mighty big investment of yours. The fact that Steve could top that just by being him, was astounding.

    "I could eat," you grinned, sitting down on the bed at peace. You had changed back into your loungewear, and Steve still stood in front of you without a shirt on.

He felt your eyes on him and his cheeks flushed, his jaw ticking.

    "I'll go put on some clothes," he decided, and you sprawled out on the bed, starfishing.

    "Oh, you don't have to," you joked lazily, closing your eyes.

    "Ha-ha," Steve bleated, changing into a shirt anyway.

By the time Steve changed, room service was knocking at the door. You watched as Steve led them outside and set up himself. Although you insisted that you help, he practically commanded that you stay inside. And when he used that voice, he didn't have to tell you twice. You pulled out your vanity mirror, checking your appearance while you waited for Steve, and you frowned because you hadn't thought to change into nice clothes and put on some makeup for dinner. You figured it was principal, and you always wanted to look your best around him anyway.

Steve came back inside and caught you frowning at yourself in the vanity mirror. Without even thinking he commented,

    "You look amazing."

You raised a doubtful brow and looked over at him,

    "I think I still smell like chlorine."

Steve shook his head, a smile appearing on his lips. As confident as you were, you were being so critical of yourself right now. He didn't care what you were wearing - as long as he got to be with you, he didn't mind.

    "Chlorine just happens to be my favorite fragrance. Come on," he nodded towards the doors that opened up to the balcony where he set up the dinner for you.

You got up out of bed, tugging down your loose cotton shorts, and walked over to Steve, who immediately put his hand around your waist and guided you to the dinner table. You glanced up at him, pleasantly surprised yet again. The set up was simple, the table decorated with small candles and a vase of roses as the centerpiece, a bucket full of ice and a bottle of Moet at the edge of the table. And of course, a plate of your favorite food on your side. Jazzy music played softly in the background.

You turned up to face Steve, snuggling up to his body and placing your hand on his chest.

    "Steve, this is so beautiful," you cooed, then glanced back at the table — he could've easily had this all set up by staff, but all he did was have them bring the food, the rest he set up for himself.

    "You like it?" he asked, his heart beaming all because you were happy with it. Steve may not have been the kind of guy to go all out very often, but when he did, he did it right. This had just the personal touch that it needed.

    "I love it," you broke free from his grasp and skipped over to the roses, your fingers softly grazing over the petals.

You had been close to crying a couple of times today, but now you were dangerously close, and you couldn't help the tears that fell from your eyes this time around. This gesture was probably the simplest that Steve had shown this whole day, but it touched your heart the most. The private jet and the nice hotel were definitely nice touches, but they didn't mean anything if there weren't any feelings there. And Steve was doing everything in his power to show how much he cared for you, something that you weren't used to most people even bothering to do.

Steve saw that you were crying and rushed over to you immediately, frowning,

    "Is everything okay?"

You laughed tearfully, wiping away your tears with the back of your hands,

    "No one's ever done anything this nice for me, that's all. It feels really... special."

Steve smiled sadly. Your reactions were so wholesome, yet from a place of so much hurt, and it showed the elements of your past that you had recounted to him. Steve wasn't trying to make you forget about your past or make up for it, but he wanted to put the work in to show that you deserved so much more. It was just who he was.

    "First time for everything, huh?"

    "Yeah," you crooned, sniffling.

Steve gave you a pat on the back and put his arm around your hip as he led you to your side of the table, pushing out the chair for you and letting you sit down. He sat down too, and you almost instantly grabbed the champagne bottle, Steve smirking at your eagerness.

You giggled, biting down on your lip,

    "I have to do something for you."

    "Wrong, but I won't complain," Steve laughed, shaking his head playfully.

You opened the champagne bottle with a pop, and let the fizz pour out into your glass before you carefully poured a glass for the both of you, reaching carefully across the table. You sucked gently at the side of your finger, and placed the bottle back inside the bucket.

Both you and Steve raised your glasses, and you made a toast as you clinked them together,

    "To us!"

    "To us," Steve repeated softly, gazing at your face, shining in the candlelight.

You took a sip and started eating, the both of you quiet for a few moments before Steve spoke up.

    "It's still so unbelievable that this is all happening," he blinked, wanting to lean back and just get a good look at you.

    "In a good way, right?" you smirked, taking another sip of your drink.

    "Oh, the best way possible. It's indescribable, the feeling I got from seeing you. It's still there," Steve huffed, and you cocked your head at him, your lips turning up into a gentle smile.

    "I know. Me too," your eyes scanned his face, strong and handsome and illuminated by the candles lit in front of him.

    "I know it's been hard for me to open up... to you, especially. I was just so hesitant because I've never really felt the things that you made me feel, and I was afraid because we didn't know each other, you know? You were just a girl on a screen in the beginning, yet I thought of you all the time. I was thinking, Steve, you can't let this happen. I thought it was unbecoming of me, starting to feel things for a stranger."

You listened, glad to hear Steve finally opening up, but you joked,

    "Yeah. It doesn't quite fit your job description."

Steve laughed, rubbing his temples as he leaned back,

    "Yeah, not quite. It was sort of a shock for me. I was scared of the possibilities. And it was hard for me to understand my own feelings, you know? I shut down when things felt too serious. And I know I was stupid for it looking back, but... in the moment I was just overwhelmed. Opening up to someone I didn't know like that, getting into that territory, it... scared me. And the feelings I started having for you, jeez. I hadn't had those feelings in a while. And I'd only ever had them for one person. It was so hard for me to wrap my head around."

    You listened to Steve, taking in his every word. Even as you got closer, Steve didn't open up as much as you did, and you hadn't minded that because he was always listening to you and talked with you about anything. So to hear this was eye opening and helped you understand more why he operated the way he did. So you just listened, leaning in and nodding, your cheek against your palm.

    "Ahh, I'm just old," Steve shook his head, and you perked up, your brows knit together.

    "No! Well, technically speaking, yes. But no! You are not 'just old.' Your feelings are valid. And I understand, because I felt the same way, almost. It was weird opening up to you, and I got those weird feelings too, but I didn't give in because... I had to stay safe, you know? I can't be falling for my clients. But when I realized who you were, even though it was a shock, it... things came together. It made sense. Suddenly, you weren't just some random, you were you. If it were anybody else, nothing would've come of it. That's why I let it happen. I decided to try my hand at trusting you, and so did you. And I mean, it's a good thing we did, right?"

    "Otherwise, none of this would've happened," Steve nodded, and you both grinned at each other.

    "Yeah. So don't be so hard on yourself," you wagged your finger at him, and Steve chuckled, shaking his head- you weren't going to let him pass with anything, and he liked that about you. "We all have a long ways to go with our growth, but it's happening. You just have to let it."

    "You're right. It feels hard to fit in, you know? I've been here about a decade now, and it's still so... I guess I'm still finding my way around. Don't know if that makes any sense, but I'm trying to fit in," Steve replied, his voice deep and almost sorrowful.

You pouted slightly, reaching your hand out and cupping it over Steve's,

    "It makes sense."

    You truly felt for him. You knew his story, everyone did. But they didn't know the intimate, personal details of it. They didn't know how Steve felt being a walking experiment in this modern world. Maybe if they did, the world might be a lot less harsh to him. You didn't want to fix him, but you wanted to be there for him - make the sharp edges of new life softer, dim down the starkness of modernity.

    You talked about a multitude of topics over the course of the dinner, things that made you emotional, things that made you both burst out into laughter, menial things and profound discussions. But anything you talked about, anything you had to say to each other, just filled you both up to the brim with gleeful warmth. You were just truly soaking in the moment with each other, enjoying being alone together. The evening was filled with lingering eye contact, brushes against the other's hand, and laughter.

    By the time Steve had gotten behind the bar, trying his hand at making drinks like it was nothing, you found yourself feeling like you were ready to wind down. You were warm from wine and other alcoholic drinks Steve had mixed, and jet lag was catching up to you. Though you wanted to stay up all night, you wanted to be refreshed the next morning.

    You retired inside to go take a shower, feeling only slightly tired because the beautiful night with Steve kept you exhilarated. The bathroom was spacious and expensive, you could spend hours in there just sitting on the sink and thinking. You got undressed and got into the shower, the warm water running along your body, washing away the travels of the day, the hot pulsating jets of water relaxing your muscles. It was much bigger and fancier than your shower back at home, that was for sure.

    As you let the water rush over your body, you started to reflect on the entire day. This day had been full of first times for you, first feelings, first experiences. You were in awe, but it evoked deep feelings that seemed to be getting coaxed out of your stomach. This deep feeling that there was still more to be uncovered, that there would always be more. It wrecked you — gave you anxiety and nerves like nobody's business. But it also calmed you, knowing that you were with the right person for there to be more. You wouldn't be snatching for more at the bottom of an empty, loveless hole in the ground with no one or nothing to water you. And the best part of it was that the feeling didn't come with the kind of fear that made you want to stop. You wanted to keep going. Everything was beautiful so far. Although you knew it wouldn't always be one hundred percent perfect if you kept going indefinitely, you were enjoying the moment now. The present.

    Meanwhile, Steve was sitting on his side of the bed, looking down at the floor and kneading his palm with his other hand. He was thinking deeply, all good thoughts, and all about you. He just wanted to keep making everything perfect for you, for the both of you. And he was coming to the realization that perfectness wasn't realistic, that it would actually be worse than authenticity. But like you, he was enjoying the paradise you were sharing with each other. He was trying to keep himself in the present, which was so difficult for Steve, whose job was to solve problems and think of the future. But when it came to you, he would take that chance willingly.

    You also thought of Aaliyah in the shower, thinking of how happy she'd be if she knew what was going on. You thought you should tell her soon, but you also knew no matter how much you wanted to, you had to take it slow. As you stepped out of the shower and dried off, you had nothing but positive thoughts in your mind — there was no one in your life who you held ill bearings for, not even your parents. It seemed that once you took that initiative to focusing on yourself, everything and everybody else seemed to fall into place.

You used a towel, then wrapped a plush white robe around yourself, tying it at your waist. When you came out of the bathroom, you were still slightly damp, and drops of water sprinkled your bare, dewy skin. You knew you probably looked pretty raw, but not because you were bare-faced, more because you were fresh out of the shower.

You were dabbing at your face with the corner of the robe as you stood against the doorway that connected the bathroom to the bedroom.

    "Steve, can you pass me my clothes?" you asked, nodding over to your fresh change of clothes on the bed.

    "Sure," he said, thinking nothing of it and reaching behind himself to get your clothes.

But when he turned back, something on his face had changed, as if he were stumped by the sight in front of him. His mouth had dropped open slightly and he sort of goggled at you in amazement. He didn't bother to get your clothes, because there was only one thing on his mind as he stood up, looking very determined.

You were slightly confused, but couldn't find the words to ask him what was going on, because there he was towering over you again, without any desire to intimidate you but succeeding in doing so anyway. Only, it wasn't a bad kind of intimidation. You looked up at him with innocent doe eyes, tilting your head slightly upwards to him. As you realized what was happening, you couldn't help the way your eyes flickered from his lips to his own eyes, inviting him in. You were almost daring him, egging on the feeling of burning desire that flooded the dimly lit hotel room.

    The mere sight of you amazed him all the time, but in this moment, Steve had been thrown off guard. It was perplex to him, how you could appear so beautiful to him without even trying to. Your beauty was not subtle, it was loud even when you were fresh out the shower, no makeup on, completely stripped down. It drove Steve crazy, seeing you standing there with wet hair, and a face that had drops of water still running down your cheeks to the inside of your robe where your naked body was concealed.

It was so silent, and Steve was so close to you, you swore you could hear your heart beating. And then, he did what he had been waiting the whole day to do, what you had been wanting to do the entire day, and leaned down, kissing you.

    And when your lips finally met, it was like nothing you'd felt before. Even if you weren't so close, you were so sure that the electrifying feeling that surged through your entire body would've emanated off of you. It was like your body heat was combined in this moment, like you were molded into each other like a perfect ceramic sculpture. As if time decided to slow down just for you two, leaving space for only the two of you to exist together in this moment. And nothing else mattered, nothing except the feeling of Steve's lips against yours, parted and warm, like they belonged against you.

    The kiss was soft, but passionate and full of burning desire. You fell into the kiss naturally, closing your eyes instantly. You weren't sure if this was just a fever dream of yours, if maybe you'd been asleep for a very long time and dreamed up the past few months, all building up to this moment when you'd finally wake up. Or maybe you'd passed out in the hot shower and you were just dreaming this. But you didn't wake up. Your eyes remained gently closed as you kept on kissing him. Steve couldn't fathom the feelings he got from finally feeling your lips against his own.

    The desire to kiss you had been building up the whole day, but when he saw you just now, he couldn't restrain himself any longer. You hadn't kissed each other the whole day although you wanted to, because it didn't feel right just yet. You wanted the moment to be right. And even though it was sudden for the both of you, it just fit. It was spontaneous and a touch born out of yearning.

    You overpowered his senses. Even after your shower, every breath he took smelled like California sunshine and the salty spritz of ocean waves, and that natural ambrosial scent that you seemed to achieve without perfume. Every touch he felt was you, his hands digging into your waist, your plump lips, your hands exploring his shoulders and the nape of his neck. The taste of your wet lips. Everything was you.

    He could've lasted longer, but you needed to take a breath, though you wished you could stay like this forever. You just kissed Steve Rogers. And it was nothing like you imagined, because nothing you imagined could compare to this. You took in a deep breath, feeling your entire body warm up just from the buzzing aftermath sensation of the kiss and the art that was looking into his eyes, which seemed to be an even deeper blue than before.

    Steve looked you up and down, then couldn't help but smile, breaking out of the very serious air he had just entered upon seeing you. He laughed, a deep chuckle that sent shivers running down your very body. You laughed too, and you nudged Steve playfully. He brought those nerves out of you that nobody else could. You had plenty of experience, but Steve made you feel so much.

    "I wasn't expecting that, sir," you quipped, and he grinned down at you,

    "But did you like it?"

    "You're a doofus," you shook your head, pushing him gently. Your voice became a whisper and you reached up, pulling him close by the collar of his t-shirt, your eyes boring into his. "I loved it."

You kissed him again, hard and sweet but short, then practically pushed him away, sauntering away into the bed before you, and getting your clothes, teasing him about how he just wanted to get you naked before you changed in the bathroom. You then emerged, climbing beneath the bedsheets and propping your head up against a pillow. It was then that you really thought of the fact that you'd be sharing a bed with Steve, but at this point, it seemed expected.

Steve was still recovering from the second kiss, then practically twirled around on his feet to face you, a dazed grin on his face, getting into the bed himself.

    "Let's watch a movie, hmm?" you suggested, looking up at him. "Till we fall asleep."

    "Sounds good to me."

    You sighed in pleasure, scooting closer to Steve and snuggling into the crook of his outstretched arm as he turned on the TV and put on a random movie for you two to watch, one that wasn't too hard for you to follow. You were stealing glances at him the whole time anyway, and he was too. The movie was the last thing on your minds, but it just filled up the time until one of you fell asleep, and made for distracted conversation about the plot, one of you making comments followed by a hum from the other. You on the other hand, barely lasted ten minutes, falling asleep almost immediately. Steve turned off the TV and the light beside him, glancing over at you as your eyes fluttered closed. You were such a sleeping beauty, all he could do was look at you. You fell asleep and turned absentmindedly on your side, posted up like the little spoon, cuddling into him.

    Steve turned on his side too, your back against his front. He let you snuggle into him, but was unsure of what to do himself. He had never shared his bed, and the way you cuddled into him made him swallow hard. How did he follow suit? Would you want him to?

    But after a good look at you, unable he slowly put his arm around you, hesitantly placing his hand at your waist, letting it tumble over onto your stomach. In your sleep you put your hand over his, snuggled closer and held onto his arm. Reassured, he settled into the position with ease, falling asleep faster than he ever had in years.

Dreaming of you.

eeep did y’all love it?!?!?! share ur thoughts ~! ily <3

adding tags in a few mins ♡ 

[rpbetter]

Urgh. Okay, full disclosure, I haven't been on tumblr much over the last week or so, because I was one of the people that Raven initially called out after the COAR mess, and it was in the interest of my own mental health to fuck off for a while so I didn't stress myself out into oblivion. So I'm scrolling through most of this stuff for the first time, and talking to other people who were targeted. And pardon my French here, but I'm fucking disgusted at the lengths Raven has gone to assert themselves as a victim, how many people they've affected, and the waving around of something as serious as suicide for brownie points.

I have sympathy for people who overinterpret things in a strictly emotional and mental sense (actual reactions aside) because they lack the maturity. There's always a reason for that, and it's not their fault. And I have sympathy for people if they legitimately feel suicidal. That, too, isn't their fault. If I hadn't been blocked, I would've reported Raven in case their claims were true as well, because yeah, I don't mess around with that stuff either. But what's unacceptable is how Raven acted on those sentiments and behaved towards others, even after people tried to provide perspective. How Raven claimed to be done with the drama, but continued inciting it; how they claimed to be suicidal and had left tumblr, but wrote what amounts to a "fuck you" in their header and were still putzing around on their blog, and were apparently still editing their posts until as late as today; how they claimed to have deleted but only changed the url; how they weaponized all of this stuff and used it as a tool for guilt-tripping. Like, come on. It's okay if you're down in the dumps, but it's not okay to treat innocent people like garbage, and carpet bomb half the RPC. To me, it really feels like there was an intent to weaponize all of their hurt, offense, anger, and suicidal ideations, despite the possibility it did come from somewhere genuine, and that's so harmful to anyone who is actually struggling with depression.

Every time someone weaponizes mental illness in this way, it just makes people more and more apathetic the next time someone is genuinely just hurting, and saying they feel like they're at the end of their rope. And it makes people suspicious of whether those words are being used maliciously, or legitimately. That suspicion and that association is now there, unconscious or not. And every time this kind of stuff happens, the association gets stronger. What happens if Raven does this again? Some people will still report, but some people might just scoff and walk away - people who might've actually acted before. So in a way, that kind of behaviour impacts Raven as much as it impacts other people.

And you know what? They're not the only one dealing with serious shit. I've been suffering from MDD for the last fifteen years, and I've been in the process of changing medications and having little success for months. I've been going through hell offline. I have a shit list of people I want to yell at because they're dragging their feet on really important things I need to function; I'm constantly running a deficit on spoons. Until a week or so ago, roleplay was one of the only ways I could unwind. So for Raven to bully me by sticking that stupid post in my tags, because they needed to make a scene on COAR, which I was obviously going to comment on (like many other people), then to "like" an unsubstantiated callout about me and other innocent people related to that mess, it's only worsened my own mental health. It sounds melodramatic, but really. Someone else mentioned this too, but the fear of being in another callout, and the fear of that first callout somehow exploding, was in the back of my mind all week, despite being away from tumblr. So that was a little anxiety-inducing, much as I tried not to think about it.

And I'm debating whether to return now, or take more time off, and I have no idea what to do. Because that callout post is still in my blog's tag. I'm freaking out because I was planning on approaching some people to roleplay, which is something I rarely ever do, but now I'm concerned that I'll contact someone, they'll look at my tag to get an idea of my writing/partners/who I am, and see the callout post, and immediately dismiss me because even seeing the word "callout" on its own will send up red flags, by unconscious association with more impactful drama. And as long as that callout is up, these fears are going to be there.

That's just not fair.

And Raven's "apology" is completely unacceptable. Like you and others said, it doesn't reach anyone who needs to hear it, because they've all been blocked. I would fucking love an apology if it came from a place of honesty, but am I going to receive one? Probably not. And even for the followers who can still see that apology, it doesn't address anything. It isn't directed to anyone in particular. It doesn't mention the specific behaviours that were wrong on their part. And miss me with the "my intentions were good" part. No, they weren't; going around blocks and sticking shit in peoples' tags is vindictive and entirely intentional in all the worst ways, and shame on them for pretending otherwise, and by leading with such a poor example for many roleplayers, some of whom are in their teens. One of the people who tried to message Raven (they, too, were called out on Raven's blog) was speaking to a nineteen-year old who was completely clueless about the extent of the manipulation Raven was pulling. They thought all of it was normal and acceptable behaviour. That genuinely terrifies me. And while I imagine if Raven was genuinely apologetic, they would've gone to the callout blog and ask them to delete the callout post (attempt it, at the very least), somehow, I don't think that would've happened given all of their prior actions. God forbid something else is going on there.

Phew. Yeah, I'm angry. Maybe I'm just biased and tired. But honestly, I have a right to be. Raven's apology is a handwave, and they know it. It's a slap in the face to me, to you, and to everyone else who was involved in this clusterfuck. They're not the center of the universe. They affected real people, with real problems of their own. Anyways, I am so sorry for this, argh. Really had to get this out, and I didn't want to dump it on discord or somewhere else; I sure as heck didn't want to go to COAR with it. But hey, maybe people here will feel less alone if I added my own account to the mix. The more, the merrier? In a sense, anyways. Sometimes if you feel like you've been singled out, it's nice to know you're not actually the only person it's happened to.

Sorry for saving your reply for last, Anon. It's such an important one, I wanted to be properly thoughtful!

I think that it is going to make some people feel less alone, and there is always some relief in sharing one's trials. That might be especially true when one has been unable to share them anywhere else. It's not like you can address this on your own blog right now, COAR is definitely not a safe place to do so, it's a very isolating feeling that is made worse for having done nothing.

Coming back and being required to wade through this shit was really damn disgusting to me as well, but at least in my case, I had neither been obliged to distance myself for the sake of mental health nor was I treated to the sickening display of drumming up ideas of victimization from someone who victimized me. What I experienced was just incredulity and disgust, I cannot imagine how incensing this must be for you, I am so very sorry. If it makes me angry having a degree of removal and watching in it real time? What you're experiencing...there really isn't a single word to adequately encapsulate that, I'm sure.

You've still expressed so many of the things I've thought and felt. I found all that initial behavior uncalled for, shameful, yet another display of what's actually wrong in the RPC, but it was increasingly upsetting to me the more I looked into it because it did feel a little (a lot) too reminiscent of the sort of bullying experienced in person. It's really something else to be viciously picked at by someone who keeps upping the game until such point as it begins to cause them trouble, then get to be painted the wrongdoer and punished in some way for it because they're presenting as a sympathetic victim. A more sympathetic victim than you, that's really what I mean, I'm just going to say it.

And that was already in swing by the time I got from the launch point to the smoking crater of then current events. I got to Raven's again after bouncing back and forth between their interactions with others, largely from COAR, yes, and the shit on the callout blog...to see...everyone else being blamed in increasingly drastic ways.

Because on tumblr, unlike reality, if you throw out enough times ahead of time that you have disorders people can get behind, you're more sympathetic, not less. So long as one has set that foundation and has others to broadcast it once convenient, any horrible action one undertakes is given a pass. Anyone disagreeing, anyone not tolerating the abuse, is in the wrong now. In the worst possible way, of course.

This whole thing began with incredibly unnecessary bullshit and every, I mean fucking every, further action taken was a new level of fucked up, but the trivializing of and damage done to the perception of mental health and differences is quite possibly the worst. Are those things that need any more of that? It's already such a problem! I already see suspicion and fatigue with this, every time it's given validation, it grows.

Even if I wasn't mentally ill, with one of the disorders that gets vilified even on tumblr, even if I were not autistic, even if I never knew a single person who suffered worse than I do from the the complications they won by way of being born, hadn't anyone I loved that took their lives, this would be extremely upsetting to me. Using the idea that "whatever I do, it's got to be acceptable because I am X" while not caring that anyone else is X, Y, and/or Z. Weaponizing it for bullying and sympathy simultaneously. Way too much. Incredibly gross and harmful, legitimately fucking problematic.

I want people to be taken seriously when they choose to speak of the boundaries their mental health requires, I want muns to be able to say that they are having a difficult time without it coming off (even to the rest of us with mental health conditions) as a ploy for attention/guilting for whatever action they desire be taken by partners, and I want people to take threats of oncoming, serious harm seriously. How are they to do this, when it is continually used as tool or weaponized against others? At very best, it becomes another thing to ignore and scroll by on the dash.

As we've all had the misfortune to experience or witness so recently, once it is weaponized, it's a problem of priority. I've said in damn near every message I've gotten that Raven isn't the only person involved here who has serious shit going on, but like the absurdity with trying to spin an accident as transphobia, or having the audacity to attempt speaking from a place of peace in a way that might benefit everyone, Raven included, resulting in a callout about being against ND people...it doesn't matter. Doesn't matter that any of us are neurodivergent, have serious chronic mental health complications, or are not cisgender. Raven was swinging that around like a flaming sword to drive off bigots real and imagined before we ever got their attention.

Attention they fucking asked for.

Reblogging that post from COAR was just like posting those rules. The intention was to get attention, and it was asked for with extreme hostility. I have no idea how that is coming off to anyone as simply them defending themselves. It was a great moment to either not out themselves as the person in the confession at all, not engage with it, quietly remove the post, or to reblog it and take responsibility in a meaningful way at that point. Can you imagine what a difference that would have made then? If Raven had chosen instead to reblog it and apologize for doing what they had. Just that. No shitty, snide little comments about how they're sorry, but still absolutely correct and here are five reasons why everything they've misconstrued won't be tolerated. Just an acknowledgment of wrongdoing, an apology for doing so, and awareness gained moving forward.

Their decision to interact with that post in the way they did wasn't just more of the same nonsense, it was actively upping the game. I don't really care if it was intentional bait or just continuing to let malicious impulse run free, it was used as bait. Everyone who interacted with that post was effectively consigning themselves to harassment, and if they happened to interact on literally any other topic that group held a passionately opposing opinion on, they were attacked for it. Curiously, it became necessary for them to be harassed by way of the callout blog, but that is getting a little close to off-topic, so, I'll leave it at that.

So, while I initially really wanted to have the appeal to Raven work because their expressions of regret that I was greatly on the fence about being genuine, I'd say those flags were accurate. I cannot believe that someone who took every opportunity to do the wrong thing is genuinely sorry. Sorry for themselves, absolutely, sorry for anything they did, not so much. This constant narrative I got of "they SAID they were sorry" and "they apologized again and again and took the posts down," including from Raven, is incredible. On that last one, they, yet again, couldn't actually address me.

Appropriate response: messaging me or reblogging that post (you know, the rules snippet I found right the hell there still, despite the claim of it being deleted and the final catalyst of me needing to say something after I saw that, nope, surely was not) with the acknowledgment of a single thing I said.

Extra appropriate response: ^ plus going to everyone who could still be located that they harmed with a genuine, individual, private apology.

Inappropriate response that was had: new post, shitty, childish tone like they at once wanted to argue with me and didn't want to drop the act, restating of this apology that had already been deleted and meant exactly shit while it existed, restating of how they deleted this post and couldn't control reblogs, ignoring that I literally reblogged the original copy from their blog.

Apology neither believed nor accepted. Just as it wouldn't be if my nephew came to my house, broke a bunch of my things, said he was sorry while throwing the pieces at my pet, then threw himself on the floor screaming that he said he was sorry when I told him to go have a time out.

(Yes, I absolutely did just make a comparison to a child, y'all can shit yourselves again. It's not my problem if you want to misconstrue "this person's actions are not befitting of an adult" as "Vespertine said autistic people are children!" Fucking miss me with that. I'm an autistic adult who pays my bills, apologizes, doesn't treat people like shit while trying to excuse it by being ND. You're offensive with that shit, and contributing to the negative perception people have of those on the spectrum. Be a good ally today! Don't valid that! Free ninety-nine offer!)

Again, sorry for yourself does not equal being sorry for what you've done. The former can contribute to the development of the latter, but as I said in a response yesterday, there has been no display of that beginning to transpire. I genuinely hope that will eventually be the case because that would be the best outcome, the only "best" outcome at this point. Even if it was two years from now, if it did happen, I certainly would not be kind to people refusing them any such growth in peace, and I hope that, by some distant chance, I get to prove that.

But...stating "my intentions were good" over any part of this is not remotely promising. When? Where? At what point? Oh, right, when you took it upon yourself to label a random mun you took issue with. That's when your intentions were good. Then, when you vehemently needed to defend that point by callouts and individual attacks under the guise of it definitely not being about your pride, no! It was the defense of everyone else! Defending the community by carpet-bombing it, yes. This is not a "the path to Hell is paved with good intentions" situation.

I am so disturbed about the nineteen-year-old mun, my god. I'm telling y'all, my anger and disgust almost reach what I think is a pinnacle, then there's something new like this.

I don't even subscribe to tumblr's ideology that anyone under twenty-five is an actual infant who needs be kept in a protective bubble and forgiven for all bad behavior with infinite kindness, nineteen-year-olds deserve the agency of the adultier adults they are becoming, but it is a transitional age. Especially today. Most socialization and formative ideas take place online, and by the time younger RPers are entering the adult sphere of RP here, they've already got some really unhealthy ideas. About themselves, about others. There is such a demand for rabidly performative action that gets internalized, it shouldn't be being heartily fed by people in the community they might look up to.

At that age, someone like Raven is going to be a person looked up to. They espouse all the right ideas, and it's an age in which aggressive interaction over those things is seen as amusing and correct, no matter how wrong the actions taken are or the basis upon which they are founded. When these people foster an environment of cruelty for questioning, of course, that is not going to be the natural response. The response is now going to be the requirement of being told otherwise with adequate proof.

I have suspected that many of the hateful anons I've gotten were from Raven's even younger followers who feel like it's normal, acceptable, and that everything they're being told by Raven's sales team over at the callout blog is absolutely true. Of course, they're now morally obligated to come harass me for the things they were told I did! I think it's likely that several of the anons people got were from actual minors, which is so many levels of scary and irresponsible. Really great example all around, yes!

Because whether it is one's intention or not, that is potentially exposing minors, or muns who are still close enough to be more negatively impacted, to who even knows what. As well as violating the rules of blogs who do not interact with minors for good reason, setting those blogs up for yet another callout for treating someone they didn't know was a minor the way they did or having "freak shit" on their blog. Setting up the other party to be treated with full hostility as an adult would be. Very cool, very responsible.

There is just so much here that is unacceptable, I don't think people who were not directly impacted or have never had a callout against them understand the results, and that is one more unacceptable thing you've been good enough to talk about.

Even while taking a break from the RPC, it affects you negatively. Wondering what you're coming back to, your blog is no longer a safe feeling space, and there's nothing you can do to "cultivate your blog" to change that. They've taken away the ability to simply block and avoid others, the thing that keeps all of us comfortable here as well as allowing that to be all of us no matter how disagreeable we might be to each other. Callouts negate adult behavior. Callouts mean that one doesn't know where more potential for harassment might be coming from, or how long we might have to be worried about that.

It would be a major concern for me as well about what putting myself out there to new writing partners might bring. What the success of that might be. It's incredibly unfair that they've made finding new people precarious and more unpleasant than it can be anyway. That puts all of the future of your RP here in question, and if you're like me, just dropping a muse, picking up another, and moving to a new URL isn't going to be a good choice for you. It isn't that simple if you dedicate time to a muse for a long period of time, when that's the case, that's the RP you want to do and have laid the groundwork for.

I don't know if it will help at all, but it has seemed to me, over the past several days, that there are fewer people in the RPC who are inclined to believe or support callouts than there once was. I was hoping that was the case, since there is always so much interaction on my posts against callout culture, but until this crap went down, I had no idea just how many people are not positive toward it. It has seemed to be that the people who are inclined to listen to callouts are just louder.

I've also noticed that those people have the same set of red flags, so maybe sharing that will help you or others?

They don't have simple, basic, reasonable Do Not Interacts. It isn't simply asking that minors don't interact because the mun is over eighteen, that muns writing a triggering topic not interact, or that sort of thing. No, it's URL dropping of specific muns, outright links to callouts or "receipts," and an accusatory tone about any topics or types of muns who shouldn't interact. Such as "nasty ass proshippers" or "pedo apologists shipping incest."

Their rules are reflective this as well. A statement cannot be made that they do not write, let's say, toxic ships and left at that. There will be some morality wank present about normalizing or romanticizing toxic/abusive relationships.

There are less assured flags, but literally, anything that stands out as an interest in RPC or fandom-based activism as opposed to an interest in writing, their muses, or even their friendships with a variety of muns. I don't mean a rounded-out interest in things, I really do mean a glaring predominance of buzzword-laden reblogs and PSA's while they've not written a reply, headcanon, or answered a meme in months.

I'm not saying any of that because I feel like you, or anyone else's, judgment is terrible or that you're oblivious to warning signs! It's just that when we've experienced bad situations, it can compromise our ability to see clearly. It becomes easy to see a potential threat everywhere, and maybe that seems contrary, but it's then easy to fail to see real threats from those we're blowing up. We question whether we're being just as judgmental as the people who wronged us, putting words in other muns' mouths and thoughts in place of their own as was done to us. While we still are afraid to be wrong in giving someone an in to ruining our time again.

So, please, don't feel like I'm questioning your intelligence or speaking from a place of ultimate knowledge, never making mistakes in such a choice! I just really hate that you, and many others, are going through this, and anything at all that I can think of that might help you move forward from this utter bullshit you've been through, I've got to try to grab it.

Because, Anon, like all those sharing their experiences these last few days, you sound like the kind of mun we need in the RPC.

You're someone willing to share with others for the benefit of others. You're being honest about your feelings of anger and even the hopeless sensation of whether it's even worth it to try to return, having your progress on and offline stomped on, while still maintaining a sort of fairness and calm that I know is not easy. Because that's the mature thing to do, it's the right thing, and unfortunately, those are usually the harder things to do as well.

You did the right thing in expressing your opinion and doing what people like Raven's group love to be on about, can only do through bullying: not tolerating it. I'd hate for the RPC to lose someone like you!

Just as your message matters to more people out there than myself, I have no doubt that your choice to not quietly allow this behavior mattered to more muns than you'll ever know. I'm sure that none of them would have wanted this result for you, but so many muns have experienced such toxic, bullying behavior over the years in which not a soul spoke up.

Many of you proved something very important with challenging Raven and the callouts blog, that unlike them, it isn't necessary for good people to even know each other to do the right thing. They have to dogpile and engage in cliquish behavior, what they do isn't coming from a place of inner ethics and strength, but what you all did? It's the opposite.

So, not only do I thank you again for sharing and providing the important support of simply not being alone to others, I thank you for being the example to the RPC that people dealing in callouts and generalized shaming cannot be, no matter their platform.

I hope that, whether you choose to remain, leave, or take a very long break, everything you've been dealing with starts to look up. I know it's easy to say things made hollow for their repetition and flippant use, like telling you not to let them win, or that their bullshit just isn't that important. So, I'm not going to say them.

It doesn't work that way when you're dealing with mental health concerns! You can logically know that this is just petty bullshit not worth being run out of something important to you, but that doesn't stop the worry, frustration, or depression. You can have all the determination in the world to hang in there, even the spite to back it up, but neither is a match for the things you cannot control coming from your brain. That is the cruelty of mental illness on the very best of days.

You have all of my respect, support, and genuine sympathy that this happened to you. No one should be allowed to continually and unapologetically go out of their way to throw a wrench into someone's hard-won progress. You did nothing to deserve this, and the people out there worth interacting with are going to be the same ones who will have no question of that.

Lastly, I also hope that some of the anons sharing their experiences have helped you feel less alone, or like you're not just irrationally upset. Please know that you're seen and supported as well! And that you are always welcome to talk more, vent, share successes here.

Thank you, Anon.

[jellojolteon]

“Your quirk is so strong! Do you wanna be a hero when you grow up?” “Kid, we could really use a quirk like yours.” “Your quirk is incredible! Why aren’t you doing the hero track?!” “I wish I had a quirk like yours...” “Our local quirk registry office is having a guest from the Department of Heroic Affairs and you have been specially selected to attend...”

Cecil deletes the email and tries to shove down all the vignettes of his life that resurface with those words. He can’t outrun it, he never has, and at twenty eight he figures he never will. 

Everyone idolizes superheroes, the hardworking folks trying to make sure that people who would try to use their quirks to get ahead in the system are put back in their place. You turn on the news, and half of the time block is dedicated to the local, the regional, the national, and even sometimes the international incidents that have been resolved with thanks to their “brave heroes”. Cecil guesses that’s to be expected-- it is news, after all, and it’s not like he lives in a world where he can’t just go read an article on the internet about the other things that are happening in the world- new scientific advances, political agreements, trade, the economy, whatever. 

But it still makes him wince, because every week it feels like someone new worms their way into his life to comment on his quirk. He vacated his personal account years ago, after one too many guilt-tripping messages about how “You could be out there saving lives, and yet you’re just some pencil-pusher” from a regular stranger who knew nothing about his life and nothing about him outside of his quirk.

Cecil Knox. Quirk: Nitromancy. Can freely manipulate the atomic structure of nitrogen to create any desired object.

That was as far as most people were willing to see. They didn’t care that he enjoyed watching television and boating in his spare time, or that it was a personal tradition of his to go to a baseball game in June just for an overpriced hot dog and a beer, or that he always wanted a collie but was allergic to dogs. For some reason a popular icebreaker was always “What’s your quirk?” on dates and he wished he could just blend in so he could instead go on quirkless dating sites and not have it come up. It’s not even that he hated his quirk, really, but it seemed to serve to get in the way. People made judgements about strong quirks like his that he really rather wished they wouldn’t. No, he wasn’t a vigilante. No, he never wanted to be a hero. Yes, he could probably make a person out of nitrogen if he wanted to, no he wasn’t going to try but he might turn the air at your neck into a mosquito if you kept asking questions. It was bad in college. The antidepressants were for the symptoms, but whenever he went to the specialists it was always the same song and dance: “Do you have issues controlling your quirk?” “No.” “Do you have issues with the appearance your quirk gives you? Cosmetic suppressants are expensive and have side effects too but if you want--” “No, I’m okay with my appearance. It’s just the actual quirk.” The doctor would invariably pause, and look up from the clipboard-- “Well we are typically only allowed to prescribe quirk suppressants to those experiencing an inability to control their quirk where it causes distress or a potential for harm. I could refer you to a therapist--” (He wonders if there’s anything he can do to look more the part of “Distressed.”)

Or, God forbid, if they were the proselytizing type: “You have no idea how many people wish they were as lucky as you! There’s not a whole lot I can do for you. Have you considered doing hero work or perhaps becoming a volunteer with your quirk?”

It took him until he was twenty six to find a doctor who would just give him the damn suppressants. “The side effects are novel for everyone, but I think we can get away with a reasonably low-strength prescription. Based on your files, I would expect that for you, the suppressants will likely limit your range to a few meters or perhaps a certain size of object that you can create.”

He would kiss the woman’s feet if it was socially acceptable of him to do, and if her feet were not completely nonexistent. 

-

“Oh, aren’t you that guy who can create anything from nitrogen? What a powe-”

“Ah, that’s just a rumor. I can’t create anything with more mass than a baseball, or I get a terrible migraine.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” (No, it’s not.)

-

“Geeze, what are those horse pills for?”

“I had a serious injury when I was younger, these are the pain meds,” he’d lie through his teeth.   

-

The government still tries to recruit him every month, but at least now whenever he’s introduced to new people at business meetings he can ask them about their favorite restaurants and talk about the potential for collaboration instead of having a fifteen minute span of time where he’s asked obnoxious personal questions in front of a group of twenty people. And really, waking up a little more corporeal than he’s used to is an absolute steal for that peace of mind. ... The tragedy of Cecil is that for people like him it doesn’t ever permanently get better, and he’s always going to have to wade through the muck of something he didn’t want. The quirk suppressants mostly just serve as a tool to help him learn how to lie and stop giving people the opportunity to ask him questions he’s tired of being asked. But I think that he learns and maybe even one day goes off the suppressants, even as his quirk just keeps getting stronger with age, and he learns to live a happy life working around the lot he drew. Even if it still takes a lot of maintenance therapy lol

[oliverpdaniel]

Let’s talk about casual homophobia.

I wanted to share a transcript of a TikTok video by a minor celebrity (I won't do them the honour of identifying them, but suffice it to say that this individual thrives mostly on controversy and poor publicity), to demonstrate what day-to-day homophobic language looks like. Many of these questions have been asked to me, or tell of real things that I've experienced, due to a generally callous view of queer folks. The quoted parts are the actual video, the unquoted responses mine.

Note in advance that some of these questions are clearly oriented towards gay men, but I am responding from the perspective of a bisexual man. Anyway...

"Okay, these are my questions for the gays – sorry, I was on Straight TikTok for a minute; what?"

Or, as you might like to call it, TikTok. For those unfamiliar, "Gay TikTok" is a small subset of the TikTok community that makes videos primarily revolving around in-jokes and shared experiences of the queer community. Thus, "Straight TikTok" is only extant in contrast, a joking reference to certain, overwhelmingly heteronormative parts of the TikTok community. While I'm not a big fan of the idea of 'ownership' or deciding who's allowed to say what, this (obnoxiously straight, in every sense of the word 'obnoxious') celebrity is trying somewhat unceremoniously to insert themselves into a narrative not their own here. Not off to a great start.

(1) "Would you care if your partner was bisexual?"

Whelp, this is one I can't really answer, can I? But, this still does lean into the old "gold-star" ideology of homosexuality, which makes it off-putting from the jump. For those unfamiliar, a "gold star" gay/lesbian is one who has never had sex with the opposite gender. This is a completely silly distinction, that fails to take into account personal circumstances, as well as – y'know – the fluid nature of human sexuality. TL;DR, even if you're exclusively into one gender, you shouldn't care about your partner's sexual orientation (other than, y'know, making sure it includes your gender) because, leaving aside the absolutely rad underworld of polyamory, they're only going to be into you while they're with you.

(2) "Have you ever been with someone of the opposite gender?"

Ah, more gold-starring! A great way to start. "You're trans? What's your deadname?"

(3) "Do you take offence when a girl calls you her Gay Best Friend?"

The Gay Best Friend is an expendable, non-threatening fount of femininity in masculine form, someone to go clothes-shopping with and who will give you sassy advice on boys. God forbid, however, that the Gay Best Friend try to be vulnerable with you about the difficulties of LGBTQIA+ life; they're only there for sashaying and making out with at parties, right? The Gay Best Friend is an incredibly harmful notion to men on both sides of the sexuality spectrum. Gay (and ESPECIALLY bi/pan/poly) men already know to fear the label, because of the dismissive treatment and expectation of performative homosexuality that comes along with it. Straight men should fight against it, too, because it's a symptom of the present hegemony of heterosexual relationships, which revolves around sexual transactionalism and a healthy dose of gender-role-fuelled intimidation[1]. (If you've never heard any of those words, you're probably the target audience here.)

(4) "Be honest – how many times has a straight person tried to hook you up with a gay person based solely on the fact that they're gay and no other compatibility requirements?" (with a devilish smile, into full blown "oh guuuuuurl" laughter)

This is a real thing that happens to people, myself included, all too frequently. It tells us that when you look at me, you don't think "Oliver", you think "Gay", and next time you meet another gay guy, that's the word ringing through your head. It's not funny. It's hurtful. If you're going to recommend a partner to me, make sure you actually have faith in a connection forming. As someone who ended up in an abusive relationship as a result of overzealous matchmaking, it's not something to be taken lightly; relationships, especially gay relationships and all the societal friction they inevitably entail, are not here for your endearment.

(5) "Are you down to hook up with someone who's 'just curious'?"

MORE gold-starring! God, could you imagine the uproar if a lesbian approached a straight person and said that they "missed dick" and/or wanted to experiment!? Oh, wait, that's already common in straight porn to the point of cliché. Gag; and not the good kind of gag.

(6) "Do you proudly wear the rainbow flag, or are you kinda against it because it kinda segregates?"

...what? When I first found this video, it was being duetted (TikTok's side-by-side video response) by a queer person, and at this point they took the opportunity to say, "I don't like you." I echo the sentiment.

(7) "Are you a 'yaaaaaas kweeeeen' gay or are you, like, 'fuck that shit what the fuck?'"

WE ARE NOT HERE TO PERFORM QUEERNESS FOR YOU. Leaving aside the sociolinguistic aspects of queer language and its intersection with (read: theft from) African-American Vernacular English, if people want to act flamboyantly gay, THAT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. If people want to act "normal" (read: heteronormatively!!!), that's NONE OF YOUR GOD DAMN BUSINESS. Queer people are fucking people, they act differently in different scenarios, and it's not for you to fetishize or to find "too much sometimes". When you accept a queer person into your life, you're accepting every facet of them into your life, for them to live and love unapologetically – not just the parts you find entertaining.

(8) "This might be a dealbreaker for me: do you like musical theatre?"

Yes. But even if I didn't – if I liked drinking beer and watching Nascar (sorry dad), but wish I had a boyfriend to do that with, guess what? That's my own fucking business. And, again, if your idea of a "dealbreaker" when engaging with a gay person is whether or not they like musical theatre – probably one of the most tired stereotypes about gay folks – and not, I dunno, if they're fun to be around and respect your boundaries and opinions, then maybe you're not looking for a gay friend for the right reason.

(9) "Be honest – do you still go through the Chick-Fil-A drivethrough and get that spicy chicken sandwich or those nuggies?" (big, face-scrunching smile.)

This is the one that REALLY got me. This displays just how tone-deaf this person is and how deeply they've objectified the concept of homosexuality for themselves. Chick-Fil-A is a massively homophobic organization from the top down, and they donate millions to organizations that want to bring into question my very right to exist, morally and legally.

As a straight person not affected by these issues, it's easy to say "well, I know I /shouldn't/ go to Chick-Fil-A because of the 'gay stuff', but oh IT'S SOOOOOO GOOOOOOOOD!". It's easy to momentarily forget one's morality because hey, it's not like you're directly hurting anyone, right? But, as a queer person who has to walk by the brand-new Chick-Fil-A at Yonge and Bloor every day on my walk to class, seeing the lines wrapping around the block lets me take direct measure of who, and how many, are willing to forget about me for just long enough to enjoy a fucking chicken sandwich. Go literally anywhere else. Eating at Chick-Fil-A is a choice, and it's a choice that informs me that you care less about my right to live than your own personal enjoyment.

(10) "Do you get upset when they have straight actors portray gay characters?"

This is a whole other debate, so I'm not going to get into the actual subject matter of this question. But hey – maybe, in an industry literally overrun with queer people, maybe we can stop converting a significant and pernicious problem in entertainment into a cutesy debate topic? Something really tells me that this person isn't going to start whipping out the intersectional feminist literature to explain their argument here. In all likelihood, it'll sound more along the lines of "but Eddie Redmayne looked so GOOD in that dress!"

(11) "And what's the GAYEST thing about you?'

Nope. Shut up and choke. I hate you.

Never tell me for a second that homophobia is "over" in Canada/the West/wherever. Never tell me that it's a distant issue, remaining only in far-off religious backwaters. This is what it can look like. Fetishization; dismissal; turning struggles for human dignity into pseudo-intellectual debates.

I'm not here to be your Gay Best Friend.

I'm not here to date your new gay acquaintance.

I'm not here to repeatedly explain to you my need to have rights.

I'm here for the same reasons you are.

I want to live and love, not to be treated like a toy.

Footnotes

[1] Okay, I'm obviously not saying that all straight relationships are built around sexual transactionalism and intimidation, nor am I saying that non-comphet relationships are not. But, in my experience as a reformed Gay Best Friend who has had to provide counsel to cishet friends over some INFURIATINGLY stupid relationship/courting issues, I would argue that a full ninety percent of them could be resolved if the experiencer simply viewed their partner/interlocutor/'tyng' as another human being, rather than being from the mysterious species that is The Opposite Gender.

[kittenshift-17]

I was wondering what your process of choosing to self publish was?

I’m not really sure what you mean by “my process of choosing to self publish”…. If you’re asking why I went the indie publishing route rather than the traditional route, the answer is three-fold.

First, I submitted my manuscript to several publishing agents within my own country, and a few abroad. I heard back from two of them, both based in London, both offering me a contributory contract. What that means is, they print my book, they market my book, but I have to fork out an inordinate amount of money for the privilege. Both companies I heard back from wanted me to pay, upfront, in a lump sum of 5000 pounds each before they would “take the risk” of investing in a novel that “sounds very enticing, but has no guarantee of selling.”

Which leads to my second point. The publishing market is flooded with authors all trying to push their work in front of a publisher and in front of a reader. The competition alone is tough. What’s worse is that in the past publishing houses have too often bet on the wrong horse, so to speak. They receive millions of stories every year, and go through them, select novels they think they can effectively market, and more than about half of those they bet on, flop. You walk into your local ‘popular’ or big-chain bookstore and you’ll see what I mean. There are books on those shelves that no one is reading, no one is buying, no one is interested it. Meaning the publishing company loses money. As a result, after years and years of this, most publishers refuse to accept manuscripts from new, or even established authors unless they can prove their book will sell. Why invest money just to lose again when there are tools allowing authors to prove their worth within the market?  Every publishing house I submitted my work to (excluding those that wanted me to pay for it) had listed in their fine print that unless you had a book agent, you wouldn’t even be considered. Book agents are expensive. Half the time, I struggle to pay the bills to keep the bloody lights on. Most authors do. Hell, most people do. 

Which leads into my third point. IF by some miracle, you come into some money to pay an agent to shove your work at a publisher, you get contracted. And when you get contracted you have to sign a very long document that strips the author of all creative rights to their work. Meaning that you get no say in cover design. No say in bits of content that are ripped out. No say in how it’s marketed, who it’s marketed to, what price they put on it. Nothing. You get a settlement cheque from the company because they purchase your manuscript - and unless you’re a big name like Rowling, you get a pittance. Typically you might be given between 5-15k dollars for the manuscript and you get a royalty on sales. A very small royalty. Usually between 20-40% depending on how well the book does, the company you sign with, and what genre it is.

Now, for a book like mine…. They’re a dime a dozen. A werewolf romance novel? One of the most easily accessible things on the market if you know where to look. Unfortunately, the places to look are not the big chain bookstores. They don’t stock a whole lot of smutty werewolf romance on their shelves (because gods forbid the average reader have access to interesting and diverse reading options). You might find a few werewolf novels amongst the Young Adult section if you rip out all the smut; and if you include adventure and war and other rubbish, you might land on the Sci-Fi/Fantasy shelves, but it’s unlikely. There’s an enormous market for it. I’ve spent years collecting novels like the ones I enjoy writing. In fact, I started writing them because initially, I searched the big book stores, couldn’t find anything like it, and wanted to read it, so I wrote it my dang self. 

But the publishers and the bookstores don’t want to take a chance on the genre as a whole, from what I can see. Everyone jumped on Vampires following the success of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The Sookie Stackhouse books, and even the Twilight Saga, and if you look hard, you might still find a few of those types dotting the shelves, but again, not that many. I don’t know what the book companies do with all the books they do take a chance on that don’t sell. Maybe they have a monthly bonfire or something and lament the dollars wasted before demanding another, better book from their contracted authors, but I sure as hell haven’t been buying them. Excluding buying gifts for my partner from the Sci-Fi section to the tune of Brandon Sanderson and Patrick Rothfuss, I haven’t actually purchased a book from a book store in a long while because when they hit on an idea, they flood the market with crappy b-grade choices that mimic the initial spark. I mean, you look at the shelves for teen fiction. Sarah J Maas is killing it with her fairie novels, but now the market is full of fairy writers and none of them hold a candle to the Maas novels. And if you’re unfortunate enough to pick the b-grade choice first, you turn your nose up at the rest and nothing gets bought. 

Maybe the same happened with werewolves. Who knows? I don’t remember it. I remember a few in the teen section when I was scouring it every other day, and I picked up a couple that were addictive and delicious. But for the adult section? Nope. You get the “Woman goes on holiday, has fling, yaaay” and the “This terrible thing befell a career woman. Now she’s pregnant” and all that other rubbish. I know Anne Rice tried her hand at werewolf fiction after her success with the vamps, and it flopped hard. I was gifted a copy when I turned 18 and I still haven’t read the whole thing. *shrugs* Unfortunately, the publishing houses know her for her novels, and they think that if she can’t do it, no one else will succeed, either. It’s painful.

In any case, I chose to Indie publish my novel because I can’t afford to fork out thousands of dollars for a literary agent, or a contributory contract. And because through Amazon, I retain creative freedom. I designed the cover, I polished the book and decided what got ripped out, what was re-written, and what was kept. I get to set the price on the book, and I can unpublish it, release a new edition with a different cover, I can do anything. When you Indie publish, you’re in control. Complete control. It does mean having to push your own wagon, and that’s some damn hard work trying to break into the market, garner a reader following, get some hype going about it, and keep people interested in it. When the big companies are producing Book Trailers for their novels, it’s pretty damn hard to hold up an Indie novel and lure readers to give it a go. But I’m trying my hand at it. If it garners enough attention, a company might contact me. I know my fellow author, Gerilyn Marin, had that happen with her first novel. She indie published it, and when it did well, a publishing company contacted her.

That being said, many authors who have contracts with publishing houses have been pulling out of them to go it alone. It’s more cost effective. You can publish on Amazon.com for free. All you need is a cover, a manuscript, and a KDP account. You can set your royalties to 35% or 70% and keep a larger portion of your profits depending on what your target market is, and what kind of pricing you want to put on your works. You’re in charge. 

So I guess my process was one of elimination. If at first you don’t succeed, try; try again, and all that. Maybe I’ll hit it big. Maybe I won’t. I’ll keep writing. I’ve got plenty more Original Fiction works up my sleeve. If this first series I’m releasing doesn’t shoot me to the moon, maybe the next one will. *shrugs* right now, I’m just happy that some people are giving it a go. It’s nice, after so long writing and sharing fanfiction, to be making some money off the time and effort put in to perfecting my writing. 

Anyone interested can find my debut novel here:

Paranormal Division: Awakening by Ellie J Duck

xx-Kitten. 

[childofthrenody]

January 7th, 2020.

8:09pm

Dear Dera,

I’m stuck in my head. 

I feel like there is so much pressure in my chest. Right in the center, and it is just there, all the time now. It’s a lot. I mean, it was a lot in middle school, and the beginning of freshman year. But, idk, it just feels like it’s all *really* fucking hitting me. All the revelations from dad, all the mess of college--applications, acceptances, denials, moving--combined with all the screaming and drinking and fighting and classes and events and this and that and whateverthehell. It’s so much. I feel like I’ve taken a thousand steps backward and I’m going to fall asleep one night and just wake up, back in middle school, back writing these letters and pouring my head and heart out and reading tumblr--making everything worse without knowing it yet--and not knowing what is going to hit me senior year. It should be terrifying, but it’s not nearly as bad as all of this right now. I won’t let myself talk to you anymore, or really anyone, actually. I feel like I let so much out in the past years that I can’t do that to anyone anymore, I can’t let anyone see that shit, have that shit. 

Except, for some reason, except for one of my teachers. You know who I’m talking about. It’s the internet, so I won’t name names, but. God, Dera, honestly, I’ve never met anyone who is more trustworthy. Kind. Caring. Compassionate. I still remember this moment. The important parts of it, at least. I walked into his room, I think. For class or commons or whatever. Probably commons. And, like always, he asked how I am. Calling me by name and everything. And, I was like, eh, I’ve been better, or something like that. And he was like “oh?” or “what’s up?” or something like that, y’know? but more how he would say it, if it makes sense. But- his eyes. It was his eyes. God, Dera Hope, they held so much compassion. So much trust I saw there. I guess eventually I’ll forget that look- but I just remember looking at him and just knowing I could trust him. So much compassion, like he really really really did/does care. I don’t really trust easily anymore, but I feel like he is one of those people you only meet a few times, or maybe only once, in a lifetime. He knows everything. And, I can just t e l l that he cares. And for that I am forever grateful, as Hazel Grace would say.

But, I didn’t come back to this old ass account to write about that. I came back because he suggested to let it all out by writing. Because he does that. Writing or something of the sort. Tbh, it’s kinda sad that I can’t really write on paper without constantly being worried about someone finding it, but the internet is the better option? isn’t the internet supposed to be more connected? Idek. Whatever. Anyway, well, here I am. This is supposed to be to mom. Well. Well, here goes, I guess. 

Mom. What the FUCK. “Can you even hear me? Sometimes I wonder.” That’s a lyric I just heard. I know everything I fucking say goes in one ear and out the other. Maybe, if I’m lucky, you’ll hear it enough to TEXT ME a half assed apology that never comes through.

God, I’m not even really mad. Abs said it was more ‘exhausted’. Which I think is accurate. I’m just...sad. Numb. Hurt. Exhausted. Just, hit with all this shit and I don’t know what to do with it. The sad part is, I don’t even know if I want the drinking and screaming and shit to stop anymore. At least I know it’s coming, rather than guessing. All I want to do is get out. you keep doing the “you hate me, don’t you?” thing, followed by, “well, you’ll come back and love me again in your 20′s,” thing. Fuck that shit. God, I don’t hate you. Obviously I love you. But, god, you make me sad. Really sad. So hurt. Every time I’m around you it just hurts me. And I just, need to get out. To leave. Dad’s yelling and anger issues and shit around the little things is bad too, but somehow throwing salad at me in the middle of a restaurant and passing out drunk 1-2hours after arriving at christmas eve is a *little* worse to me. Just a thought!!! Sigh. It hurts to even go home, y’know? Today at school was even bad. As I told him, I just wanted to scream at everyone. To snap at everyone. I’m completely off my game. And midterms are coming. I”m so off, and I don’t know what to do. I’m talking it out, I’m writing right now. God, I did an english assignment today and I overthought it and it was so shitty. And my in-class midterm essay was so shitty. The only thing that might come out okay is my art still-life. But the written portion is tomorrow and I won’t be able to do it and jesus I just want to cry cry cry cry cry cry cry. CRY. I was so angry today, right? and I wanted to snap at everyone. Anything anyone did, I wanted to fucking SCREAM. Then, then, I talked it out a bit, and I was still so angry, but, but now I just wanted to cry. God, I wanted to cry. And I did. In the car on the way home, I was driving and something small happened or something and I just started sobbing. Not that much, but this sudden horrible thing just ripped out of me. Like I was holding it in all day. I remember wanting to cry sometime in the middle of some class, maybe english idk it seems like it could’ve been, and not being able to. Obviously. Fine, whatever, but that shit NEVER happens in school! that’s middle school level emotional crap! Jesus Christ! Sorry to take His name in vain, but I think He sees what I mean. How far back I’m going. I only random start crying at home when I just need a sob, or around you, mom, when I turn a corner and just need to let my real feelings surface for a second before the mask goes back on to trying not to piss you off. 

God, I try so hard not to piss you off. To be the perfect kid. To stop the little things. I thought I had it together, that I’d realized that I will never be perfectly enough for you. I will never, at least here and now, stop pissing you off and doing the wrong things. Like, yeah, that’s okay. But, god, it’s all going back. I’m stuttering more again. So badly. And of course you hate that! God forbid something different is okay, right? And my thoughts. My thoughts are getting so bad, with my mentality. I have midterms!!!! I have applications, and MAKING IT THROUGH THE YEAR! This isn’t the same as middle school, where I could coast more and it was okay because it didn’t really matter as much, if I remember right. God, I want to go away. So far away. Yes, from you. Okay? Yeah, I said it. I guess dad too, to really see a new place. And I don’t want to come back for holidays and breaks. I know I will have to, at least for some of them. But, ugh. SH asked me today something like, “if you could leave right now and just go to college, would you?” and I was like, 100% yes. Idk 100%, because the whole high school experience and everything, but, god, I want to get away. Half the year is already gone. I want to experience senior year, truly, but I also want prom to come, and graduation, and to have all my acceptances, and the supposedly legendary senior retreat, and all that shit! And to read the letter I wrote sophomore year that’s to my senior self that I’m supposed to forget exists or what it says or whatever. I didn’t, really. Oh well, I guess. I did try.

I think, most of all, I don’t want to lose him. Talking to him. I’ve only known him for like, 4ish months, even though I met him sortof freshman year amist charlie and greg, lol. I remember looking up at him between these two giant seniors and they introduced me and i felt so small and he looked so tall lol, and he was like “hi, I’m [name], I’ll see you senior year!” or “..in a few/four years!” or something like that. Idk, I think expressing it comes across as weird. I want to clarify, I’m NOT like a weird and creepy kid who’s like in love or even anywhere close to that at all. NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT, please know that!!!! I’m not even NEAR the same time-zone as that notion. I’m like 5 times zones away from that. But, I just want to keep in touch with someone who really cares, like magistra or mrs c, and stuff. That’s it. Just one of those people it feels like you really want to keep in touch with. Like, I feel like I could visit my high school years from now and he would be totally welcoming. I saw it with past students who visited while I was there. Some a year or two out, some more. He offered to go for coffee with one! Totally rad, chill, normal adult things, y’know? Someone you know, and remember, and could probably invite to like your wedding or something. Idk. Not that I want to get married, but that’s the idea.

Please don’t think of it the wrong way- hence why I’ve never voiced it. I guess it’s the gender thing? Idk. But, all in all, I want to get out, momma. I”m so done with this shit. So done. And it isn’t helping me mentally, physically, or emotionally. I have to exercise ig. Lol. Sigh. You’ve also told me that. I get it, but it hurts. Also, stop fucking touching me. It’s not sexual, but god, leave me the fuck alone! I don’t like being touched! It doesn’t mean i was abused when I was younger or some shit, just leave me alone! Cut out all the“But you’re my kid!’ bullshit, god. I’m not the fucking dog. Sigh.

I’m really sad. I’m really hurt.

Exhausted, as Abs said. Definitely, without-a-doubt, one-hundred-percent exhausted.

Forever Yours,

Camber.

[delamd-blog]

The Ultimate Guide to Adulting in the Philippines (My First Job Application)

Hello, this is the blog that no one asked for but I’m gonna write about it anyways lol So, months after graduating the board exam and applying for med schools, I was stuck at home with nothing to do. I couldn’t apply to the hospitals in my area because the training was for 6 months and if I got hired, I would have to sign a contract saying I would work for the hospital for 2 years. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Joke onli but I just couldn’t commit to such a long contract because I would be going to med school some time around August. So... what a great dilemma, right? After weeks of binge watching Netflix series and playing a bunch of games, I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I kid you not, I could feel my brain rotting away. I was so goddamn bored out of my mind that I decided to look for jobs. 

Step 1: Writing a Resume and Realizing that You Have Nothing To Offer

I of course had to create a resume. It’s a good thing that when I was in college, the creator of jobs180.com had a talk in our college.He’s a really funny guy. So funny and convincing that he managed to convince me to sign up for his site lol Surprisingly thought it’s actually a good website because it create a professional looking resume and you get an online profile too. You can print your online resume into one page which contains your picture, description, educational attainment, licenses and certifications, seminars attended, skills, languages and character referrals. Literally all you need to do here is input your info and the site will arrange it into a professional looking resume so it removes so much hassle from your life. Plus, it functions like jobstreet wherein you get alerts for jobs that match your credentials. Just frequently check your email for alerts. I highly recommend this website. I wasn’t paid to say this btw but jobs180, if you’re reading this, hmu pls haha sponsor me daddies. 

If you really wanna make your life difficult though, go ahead and make your own resume following the traditional standards set by your school or university and there are a lot of samples available in the internet which you could use as a guide.

Step 2: Realizing That Running Papers is Hard but the Government Requires It

So you’ve gone ahead and made a sick looking resume. You MUST think it’s time to look for a job and apply right? WRONG. Don’t do it yet, sis. Don’t be a pleb like me. Jobs will require you to have a bunch of things like NBI clearance, work permits, Philhealth, PAG-IBIG, SSS, TIN and credentials from your school like a diploma or transcript of records. So before you proceed with looking for a job and applying, I suggest you secure these documents first! Otherwise, after you get accepted at your job, you will be forced to cram all these requirements and you will be tired as fuck just like me! I was so dumb thinking I could get away with working and not having these things. I’m lucky that the company I applied for is very friendly to first timers and they were kind enough to give us a list of requirements for these things.

2.1 Get Yourself a Valid ID

Where to start? Well, sis, you need a valid government ID to get all these things done. How do you get that in the Philippines when the system requires you to have a government ID to claim another government ID?!!? Who the fuck designed this labyrinth of a life right? Fear not! I have a lifehack for you. Just go to your barangay and get a barangay clearance or go to your City Hall (even better if you go during the weekdays so there’s not a lot of people) and get a Cedula. These things don’t require a valid ID you just need to pay. These will serve as your valid IDs. But I really suggest that you get a Cedula because you will need this for other requirements. If you’re 18, you can get a driver’s license in LTO too. Plus, you can order a PSA birth certificate online and have it delivered to your house. Order more than one and immediately have it photocopied. You’re gonna need a lot of those. Always photocopy whatever IDs and important papers that you have. Keep 1 photocopy together with the original in a plastic envelope or plastic filing folder. It must be PLASTIC. Why? So that it’s waterproof. This is something that I learned the hard way. Again, sis, learn from my mistakes. Also, I suggest that you secure at least 2 valid IDs. Why? Because they need one valid ID to confirm the details of the other valid ID. I KNOW. STUPID RIGHT but yeah it needs to be done.

2.2 Next Valid ID: NBI Clearance

The good thing about this is it’s much easier to get this compared to back in the ol’ days. But you need to get this done before you get an actual job just in case you have the same name with a criminal in the Philippines. If you have the same name with a criminal, you will get a ‘HIT’ which will mean that your NBI clearance will get delayed. I was lucky that my name is so unique so I didn’t get a hit and I was able to process my NBI clearance in one day lol. To do this, just go to their website and register online. You have to set an appointment in their website. I suggest you do it in the morning so you can process other things in the afternoon that you might need. You must bring a valid ID as well as a birth certificate. You can pay them online through ebanking services but in my case my mom made me physically go to the bank. Remember to screenshot your reference number, their BDO account number and other details so you won’t get delayed at the bank. You don’t need to print your NBI registration form, but you need to screenshot your Reference number. Idk how it’s done in your NBI site but in my experience, I had to first have my bank deposit receipt authenticated then they gave me a queuing number. When my number got called, I did the biometrics then I presented my PRC ID and my birth certificate. They asked for my reference number so I showed the screenshot on my phone. Then I just waited near the releasing area to be called. Viola! I got my NBI clearance. 

Important Tip: Don’t be a poo poo head. If you’re unsure of where to line up or what the next step is, ASK someone. Even the stranger next to you. I learned that Filipinos are actually polite and helpful if you’re going through the same shit. Kahit introvert ako, nagtanong tanong na ako sa mga katabi ko kasi naiinis ako mag-aksaya ng oras not knowing where to go. Plus, the quicker you get shit done, the sooner you can go home and rest, di ba? Motivation.

2.2. Philhealth, SSS, PAG-IBIG With Minimum Hassle? ask me how 

Don’t be intimidated. These things can be done online! You just have to be very patient and fill out their online forms as soon as possible and as accurately as you can. I suggest you do Philhealth first coz (god forbid) what if you get sick and hospitalized from all the anxiety of job searching? Ya need Philhealth to cover for your sick ass. Don’t forget to print your MDR form just in case your employer asks for it. The website is kind of wonky. Once I logged out, I couldn’t log back in and recover my MDR so I had to manually fill it out haist. You can for this this through the bank too and then when you get the confirmation from Philhealth that they got your payment, bring the receipt to the nearest branch and get your ID! The whole process takes about 3 days. While it’s pending, apply for SSS and PAG-IBIG too. You have to do PAG-IBIG as soon as you can coz they process kind of slow. It takes approximately 3-4 days for you to get your PAG-IBIG number but at least you can text them to get an update about your application. When you apply for SSS online, they email you some forms. So print these forms ASAP and have them photocopied too. Once you have done this, congrats! You’re almost done!

Step 3: Looking For An Actual Job Without Experience and Realizing that All Jobs Need Experience

Wow, after going through all that trouble you now realize that there are no jobs out there for your field? All the salaries they offer are so low? Why the hell does everything require 2 years of experience?! And why are all the jobs so far away??? Sis, I feel you! I was so stressed out looking for a job online too! I really did not know where to start. So here’s what I did. I signed up for all the common job hunting websites coz my logic was, surely, these companies wouldn’t post ads in these websites if they weren’t actually actively looking. Right? Well, again.. I was WRONG. Some companies take so long to reply so you have to be very patient. Really, really patient. Don’t be sad if a company doesn’t reply immediately just think that maybe their HR is swamped or something. So for me, I signed up for Jobstreet, Glassdoor, Upwork, LinkedIn and Fastjobs. The good thing is that these things can be downloaded on your phone and you can turn on notifications for them so they will alert you for possible job opportunities. But for me, Indeed.com is where I found my job. This isn’t a sponsored post but hello websites, if you’re reading this, sponsor me daddies. Just narrow your search by entering your desired job and current location in the search bar and then apply to anything and everything. Dont be afraid of rejection! What’s the worst that can happen? NOTHING. And the best case scenario? That you get an interview or the employer replies! Every negative thing is just water off the duck’s back. Go lang ng go sis! Di lalapit sa you ang trabaho.

Step 4: Going to your first job application and Interview!

Let’s just assume that you got an interview or a call. (Keep your phone close by at all times and answer calls from unknown numbers politely because chances are, it’s one of the jobs you applied for calling) Dress for success if you’re gonna go for an interview. I dressed up in a corporate attire even if it wasn’t require coz I was trained by my Uni to do it that way eh. Besides, you will feel more formal and more serious if you’re dressed for the job talaga. For the interview, speak slowly and clearly. If you’re not confident, well, FAKE your confidence. SMILE and don’t be afraid to ask your employer questions. For the job i was applying for, we even had an online test which took HOURS. Lol. They were testing our english, active listening and typing skills. It’s a real good thing that I am a fast typer coz I scored the highest in their typing test. They require only 25wpm but I can type around 60 wahahahaha. 

Tip: I suggest you go sit beside someone who you know is already done with the interview and ask him/her how it went. Then you can prepare your answers ahead of time. They usually ask the same set of questions coz who the hell has time to come up with personalized questions for every applicant. Sis, ako talaga introvert ako eh pero wala chinika ko pa rin yung mga katabi ko. hahaha ano namang masama sa pagtatanong? Eh pare-pareho naman kayo ng pinagdadaanan, right?

Step 5: Submitting All Their Requirements and Contract Signing

Well, you’did it, sis! You’ve gone and landed yourself a job! Time to get moolah! But wait, there’s more....hold your horses for one minute. Your employer is probably gonna require a few things still so be prepared. 

Make sure that during this time, you are healthy and fit coz they’re probably gonna make you undergo a physical exam. For my job, the company shouldered my PE so haha I paid nothing. I had to get examined by a doctor wherein she did the routine things like a breast exam and reviewing my medical history with me. Also, I had to get an Xray, CBC, Urinalysis and Drug testing done so make sure that you drink lots of water before going to the hospital so you can pee easier. And for urinalysis don’t catch the first drops of urine, rather, catch the midstream so that the sample is cleaner and you won’t be positive for pus cells or bacteria. And don’t do the urinalysis if you have your menstruation because you will automatically be positive for RBCs and that’s a big no no. Wait for your menstruation to be over before you do this test. 

Next, you’re probably gonna have to get a work permit coz in the city where your job is located. And how do you get this??? Well, just go to the city hall, pay for the work permit at the treasury department and then get your work permit at the work permit station (just ask the guard where this is located). Don’t forget to bring your cedula coz this is what they require to get a work permit. 

After completing all this shit, you can submit your requirements to your employer and sign the contract! Just make sure to read it carefully. Viola! Job well done to all of us!

Now the hard part starts... training and actually going to work.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHAT NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ABOUT INEQUALITY

How would you like a job where you never got to make anything, but instead spent all your time listening to other people pitch mostly terrible projects, deciding whether to fund them, and the third empirically false. If you take funding at a premoney valuation of $10 million.1 Especially if you have competitors who get to work full-time. Grad students are just the age, and just the sort of person who would like to solve the money problem once and for all instead of working for a salary for 40 years, then a VC fund can only do about 2 series A deals per partner per year.2 And in particular, the rich have gotten a lot richer. In high school I made money by mowing lawns and scooping ice cream at Baskin-Robbins. Perhaps great hackers can load a large amount of context into their head, so that when they maltreat one startup, they're preventing 10 others from happening, but they pay more because the company is basically treading water.3 For example, many startups in America begin in places where it's not really legal to run a startup are prone to wicked cases of buyer's remorse.4

We know the current trajectory ends badly.5 If so, could they actually get things done? But such advice and connections can come very expensive. And regardless of the case with CEOs, it's hard to repeat a brilliant performance, but it's even more important early on, any more than it matters to the winner of a marathon how many runners are behind him. That's the difference between a startup and stay in grad school, in the sense of making more things people want. Whereas if investors seem hot, you can, even if he was content to limit himself to talking to the press, but what happens in a series A round, before the VCs invest they make the company his full-time job. Materially and socially, technology seems to be able to brag that he was an investor.

But I think they fail because they select for the wrong people. Engineers will work on sexy projects like fighter planes and moon rockets for ordinary salaries, but more mundane technologies like light bulbs or semiconductors have to be a board member to give.6 These qualities might seem incompatible, but they're not willing to let you work so hard that you endanger your health. So people who come to work in the end, or a lot of the problems they face are the same, from dealing with investors.7 If you take funding at a reasonable valuation; the giant company finally gave us a lot more on its design.8 If you get a termsheet. There are no meetings or, God forbid, corporate retreats or team-building exercises.9 Only if it's fun. But fortunately in the US this is another rule that isn't very strictly enforced.

We started Viaweb with $10,000 in capital to incorporate. What we're seeing now, everyone's probably going to be averaged with. The whole shape of deals is changing. When you work on making technology easier to use, you're riding that curve up instead of down. That one is easy: don't hire too fast. A job means doing something people want. Reward is always proportionate to reward. Among other things, incubators usually make you work in their space, you were supposed to use their office staff, lawyers, accountants, and so on.

Most investors, unable to judge startups for themselves, you're more likely to double your sales. Julian. The toolmakers would have users, but they'd only be the company's own developers. The other place you could beat the US would be with smarter immigration policy. But I have no tricks for dealing with this world for many years, both as a founder that most VCs will only invest in you if you're a university president and you decide to focus on first, we try to figure that out. I can think of who don't work for Sun, on Java, I know of one startup that got from an angel investor what amounted to a five hundred pound handshake: after deciding to invest, the angel investors are probably the more critical ingredient in creating a silicon valley? They're not going to move to your silicon valley like to get around by train, bicycle, and on terms that will make it cheap enough to sell in large volumes, and the noise stops. If you took ten people at random out of the way so the founders can use that time to build or finish building something impressive.

I propose the following solution: instead of sticking your head in someone's office and checking out an idea with them, like microprocessors, power plants, or passenger aircraft. But it's also because money is not just a good way to run a startup are prone to wicked cases of buyer's remorse. And so they can get it.10 I wish I could say they were, but the main cause of the second big change, industrialization. A investments they can do a deal with you just to lock you up while they decide if they really want to. I said before, is a dangerously misleading example. Probably because the product is not appealing enough. The Lever of Technology Will technology increase the gap in income, whether by stealing private fortunes, as feudal rulers used to do, but that the work they're given is pointless, and they all basically said Cambridge followed by a long pause while they tried to think of deal flow, and that it therefore mattered far more which startups you picked than how much they get paid for it. The angel deal takes two weeks to close, and once founders realize that, it's going to stop. I know of zero. The kids see to that.

When the city is turning off your water because you can't pay the bill, it doesn't make any difference what Larry Page's net worth is compared to yours. You can come along at any point and make something better, and users will gradually seep over to you. One is that investors will increasingly be unable to wait for startups to exist. Plus you can't get an H1B visa, the type usually issued to programmers. They think that there is a sharp difference between VCs and super-angels or the VCs? Investors have no idea that when they maltreat one startup, they're preventing 10 others from happening, but they are an important fraction, because they might end up looking like this, it's unlikely that the VCs would keep the existing numbers of shares. And since a startup that succeeds ordinarily makes its founders rich, that implies getting rich is enough motivation to keep founders at work. In those days you could go public too. What most businesses really do is make wealth. He'd also just arrived from Canada, and had just hired a very experienced NT developer to be their chief technical officer. Those hours after the phone stops ringing are by far the biggest killer of startups that raise money. Almost by definition, if a startup succeeds its founders become rich.

VCs whose lot in life is to fund more dubious startups than with the top firms. Founders get less diluted, and it is now common for them to retain board control as well. We'll find out this winter. And funding delays are a big distraction for founders, who ought to be considered from the start. Despite their name, the super-angel gets 10x in one year, that's a higher rate of return, the VC would have to get it from someone else. It's possible to buy expensive, handmade cars that cost hundreds of thousands than millions.11 I asked if they'd still be interested in the startup funding business is now in what could, at least, nothing good. Investors collude. This way you might be able to stay on as CEO, they'll have to cede some power, because the next best deal will be almost entirely about money. On the day of the race, most of which fail, and one outside person acceptable to both. Economic inequality is sufficiently far from identical with the various problems that have it as a business, rather than linear.12

Notes

There are some good ideas buried in Bubble thinking. 05 15, the only reason I did the section of the definition of property is driven mostly by technological progress aren't sharply differentiated. It rarely arises, and not fixing them fast enough, but one by one they die and their hands thus tended to be employees, or can launch during YC is involved to ensure startups are now the founder visa in a safe will be out of the year, he found himself concealing from his predecessors was a kid who had small corpora. So as an employee as this.

The revenue estimate is based on that. I've become a genuine addict.

They may not even in their IPO filing. The second alone yields someone flighty.

The founders who take the line that philosophy is nonsense. Geshke and Warnock only founded Adobe because Xerox ignored them.

The company may not have gotten the royal raspberry. Though they were supposed to be started in Mississippi. Just use the wrong side of their predecessors and said in effect why can't you be more like a later investor trying to hide wealth from the Dutch not to: if you have significant expenses other than salaries that you decide the price of an ordinary adult slave seems to be good.

For similar reasons, including principal and venture partner. Indifference, mainly. A scientist isn't committed to is following the evidence wherever it leads.

Source: Nielsen Media Research. In principle you might see something like the outdoors, was one of the Industrial Revolution happen earlier? Gauss was supposedly asked this when comparing techniques for discouraging stupid comments have yet to find may be because the illiquidity of progress puts them at the time it still seems to pass so slowly for them.

So where do we push founders to have more options. The top VCs thus have a moral obligation to respond with extreme countermeasures. They accepted the article, but those are probably not quite as harmless as we think.

Oddly enough, even if it's the right thing to be vigorously enforced.

And yet if he were a first approximation, it's a problem if you'll never need to get elected with a slight disadvantage, but essentially a startup, as far as I make this miracle happen? Which is why so many people's eyes.

Maybe at first had two parts: the resources they expend on you after the first wave of hostile takeovers in the 1920s.

Give the founders: agree with them.

Thanks to Trevor Blackwell, and Geoff Ralston for putting up with me.

[butterflies-in-my-tummy]

Social media makes us mad

It was my birthday this week, over a stretch of about five days I had a wonderful time, I saw friends and family and was showered with gifts and cards and messages of love. I had 40+ messages on Facebook, a dozen texts and a handful of phone calls all because yesterday 28 years ago I entered the world as a ball of life and energy; and today I have stayed in bed. In fact yesterday I knew that I was having a dip, but I had plans and it was my actual birthday so I pulled myself through the mud and I put my best dress on and ploughed into my day determined to have a great and memorable day. Today, when I woke up I should have got up and tidied the flat (we've been away for a few days and missed the weekend rituals), I should have gone with my husband to take my beloved pet to her vet check up, I should have but I didn't, I decided today I didn't have my waders and so bed was it for me. I am genuinely blessed, I realise how terribly cheesy that sounds but I am, I have colleagues, family and friends who all went out of their way to ensure I felt special, that I was given beautiful things and things that they spent time and money thinking about how much I would love these things. I am a material person, sometimes I wish I wasn't but it's one of my underlying traits and it doesn't define me over all so it's a battle I don't (currently) wish to face. So those things and the effort put into choosing them made me tremendously happy and grateful. I wouldn't even hesitate to do the same for any one of the aforementioned groups of people, their happiness is my (mostly) number one priority, and it's taken a long time to really value the group of people I have around me. Five or so years ago, for me it was all about organising a party or a gathering and feeling special because a large group of people I never bothered to get to know properly turned up, those people deserved better from me, and by pretending that I had the capacity to genuinely care enough for them I was hurting them and damaging myself. It is absolutely OK to know and be friendly with a large number of people, but to say for example that the 223 people I have on my Facebook account are as they are titled by the site my friends, is not entirely genuine or faithful to their lives they are so passionately living. And so when 40+ wish me happy birthday (and I really do mean it when I say thank you for your kind wishes) it actually makes me feel fairly conflicted. Especially in times of celebration it is so easy to wish a person best wishes, but if you think about how many people you congratulate on their new baby and will never have cause to meet said baby, wish them a happy birthday but never be invited to their birthday celebrations, how many times are you best wishes and thoughts diluted? So that when it comes to your best friend, how genuine are your wishes? Very, I am certain, but how do we differentiate between the generic message of love and joy and the deep and meaningful one? Do you actually write anything unique on their wall? I have been lying in my bed all day, feeling like I am being pinned down by a heavy fog, not thinking and barely feeling, is it because yesterday I received a steady steam of messages and today there is silence? Sadly it could be, because for every little red 1 that told me that a single person was in that moment thinking about me and about my life, my brain receive a chemical rush that slowly but surely pulled me up and up on a high and today in the silence I have come crashing back down. In fact I am certain some of you may have read 223 Facebook friends and thought 'wow that's not many, I have...'400 or 700 or maybe more? Nearly four years ago I made a conscious decision when I decided that acting wasn't the life for me (thus removing the need to keep 'contacts' on my friends list) and that was that I would commit my loyalty and time to a small group of true friends hiding in the masses of people I had met once and wish well, but who would never need me to sustain a mental or emotional connection with them. Even now, an old school friend will add me, knowing I don't really care I will feel guilt and accept the request, but no as soon as I am learning about their beautiful child I start to feel uncomfortable, this person is now a stranger and I emphatically do not care about them or their child - I am not being cruel, I am being honest; and so I delete them. (Then I feel guilty all over again!) Social media is just a more recent incarnation of the many and varied media forms that contribute to the comparison culture "she's got lots of friends", "she looks like a really fun person", "she looks so clever" the possibilities of how we present ourselves is endless, but for the most part it's fake. I do it, you do it, we all do it. That picture of me smiling and drinking my tea in the British Library, that took four or five attempts, when I was on the precipice of anxiety (for no good reason at that point I might add) because god forbid I let my 224 Facebook friends see me looking any less than what I consider my best, my outfit was chosen for two purposes to make me feel good (that is important number one) and to look good, and seeing as I spend a minimal amount of time a day looking at myself, it was because I care so much about what other people will think when then look at me. And I am addicted, I cannot tear myself away from social media, which although not a cause for my particular anxieties, it is most certainly a daily poison that I willingly ingest. My point dear friends and people that I vaguely know is this, let's try to be ourselves, and more than that let's try to present ourselves as we truly are. Most of all let's stop spreading ourselves so thinly and disingenuously by being Facebook friends with every person who adds us and then wish them the love and happiness that your best friend has worked tirelessly to deserve and where this 'friend' has done very little. So when I don't say happy birthday or congratulations to you the next time you are celebrating, I absolutely wish you well, but my love and my thoughts and my energy are reserved for the people who I am loyal to and who are loyal to me. They are my life and my world, and despite spending a whole day in bed accompanied by a dark shadow, it's them who get me through, and when they need me I have reserved my energy to get them through also.

[elysiumrp]

Congratulations SAL! You have been accepted as Jarred Truell. Please go through the checklist and send in your account within 24 hours. If you need more time, make sure you send a message to the main.

Um, so can I just say amazing application? There was so much detail that I truly, truly feel I know where you’re planning to go with Jarred, and that makes me so happy. Jarred is a very important member of the city of New York right now because of his involvement with Nature’s Botanicals (and the secret meetings in its back room), so I’m thrilled that we will be having a Jarred here from the beginning! He has a lot of darkness (obviously) that’ll definitely be interesting and nice to explore, and i can’t wait to see how Jarred handles everything that he’s going to learn throughout his journey. It’s certainly going to be a tough next couple of months for him, and we’ll all have to wait and see his mental and emotional state when he makes it to the end. It’s sure to be traumatizing to say the least. Welcome to Elysium!!

OOC INFO

Name: Sal Age: 20 Timezone: PST Preferred Pronouns: He/Him/They/Them/She/Her Previous RP Experience: [RFP] Activity Level:  9 or a 10 up until school starts back up again then probably a 8 or 9. Anything Else: N/A

IC INFO

Character Name: Jarred Truell Why did you choose this character:

The reason I chose Jarred was because I have a sweet spot for broken characters that have daddy issues and I feel that he fits the bill. I think it would be interesting to see how he interacts with the other characters that already know of him because of his dad. The reactions that the others give will definitely play a huge role of how much of a part he will want to play in the Resistance. If people are less willing to have him there because of what they think they know about him it will spark something in him to want to change the views of everyone in the magical community.

He feels extremely sorry for his mother. She had nothing to do with what his father decided to do and to be casted aside because of her relations to the man that decided to fuck everything up and not take into account the backlash that it would have on his wife and son is a terrible thing to burden. He thinks that she must feel as alone as he does, she came from a respectable magical bloodline and for all of that to be torn away in an instant was wrong in his eyes. Now, her family shunned them for one being involved with someone who would dabble in the dark arts and obviously brought shame to their name too.

Jarred doesn’t feel it’s right that everyone still associates him with his dad. He doesn’t so why should everyone else? Of course, he also thinks thats its not their fault for perceiving him the way they do. It was their parents generation that really influenced the whispering and the nervous looks. But, as much as it tears away at him, he’s used to it. Yeah, he wants people’s perception of him to change so that’s why he wants to get back into doing something that will get him redeemed by the magical community. Even if it means leading the Resistance to a new era where the supernaturals come out on top.

Describe your plan for them:

Like I said in the paragraph above, he wants to change what the name Truell means. Right now, it’s a family of witches who use dark magic and are “known” to be unpredictable. He doesn’t want that for the future of his name and for his mother. Jarred wants them to find peace in the community, no more whispering, dirty looks, nervous ticks. He just wants to be a part of the magical community in a positive light.

He wants to make friends. But given the situation that he’s in he has very little of them because of his father. Jarred doesn’t want to feel alone anymore. He has had it with all these emotions that he’s had because of his father. These emotions need to be dealt with one way or another.

I want Jarred to be involved with the Resistance and actually make a positive impact so that it could help with his image and clear up his name hopefully. It’s something that he kind of swore to do after the humans kicked them from their homes and were forced to live like animals.

I also want to build more on him thinking he’s better than humans. In a sense, he is, he can bend the very ether to his will. Of course with some limits but it’s something that no one else can do. I want to see if it’ll go to his head.

Jarred is not in contact with Tereza, who had this history with his father. As much as he says that he doesn’t care about his father and doesn’t care to know him. There’s always this thought in the back of his mind of wanting to get to know her so that maybe someday he can go to her and ask her about the man that left them all those years ago.

I want Jarred to find out about his father. I want him to be comfortable enough to go to Tereza and ask her about him. He says that he doesn’t want to know the man that left but he so desperately needs to know. If not to reach out but to get closure.

Describe your character’s feelings and reactions to the initial reveal of the supernatural world:

Jarred was actually glad that it happened. The reaction however was one that he didn’t think would be too much of a problem. It needed to happen for a number of reasons, one being that they shouldn’t have to hide whether they be the most gruesome of creatures or not they’re still people. The humans obviously don’t see it as the same thing. Of course, there’s reason for them to be afraid but to just kick them out like they did, wasn’t right. Now they gave them more than enough to start the Resistance, so they shouldn’t be shocked when they come at the humans with full force.

He was okay with the fact that they were now exposed because now people weren’t really concerned about what he was doing or who he was as a person. Which was nice for the moment that he did have a little breather. But, now that the dust has settled and people are starting to assimilate back into the way of things he’s starting to get those looks and the whispering is starting up again.

Although, with the shop that he and Oliver have opened up, its making everything a little bit better than how it was before. Not only witches, but most of the other supernatural creatures are coming into the shop to buy necessary magical ingredients for whatever they need. It’s quite a change of pace for him, because now they “need” him. Something that has never even been a concept to him so this should be interesting.

Describe your character’s feelings and reactions to the current state of the world, and how it impacts them as an individual:

Everyone is finally getting back to their lives after the reveal and Jarred can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. There’s the thing with the world and the Resistance happening, along with him still having to deal with people knowing him because of what his father did and now he even has to hide from the humans that don’t know anything about him but now he has to be extra careful because he doesn’t know whether someone is going to be pro-supernatural or not. As if this wasn’t hard enough, he also has a business to run alongside Oliver thank the stars that he’s not in this alone because he’s feeling the heat somewhat.

Joining the Resistance gives him something in common with all the others that are in the group. Which in turn, gives him something he can hold on to to make new friendships and to get his name cleared. He has this notion that he has to be perfect with everything he does because if god forbid messes something up, it’s going to knock him back so far he might not even want to fight to get back the respect he currently has.

The shop has definitely had a positive impact on Jarred making him feel more comfortable with the idea of helping others. Before he hadn’t really taken an interest in helping others of his kind because of what his reputation that followed him. It’s made him more of a person who would put their needs before his own in a way.

Para Sample:

Some people classify silence as perfect bliss or that it makes them feel at peace in a world of constant vibrations between people and things. Other people say that it makes them go insane, that they can’t go a day without listening to music or being outside and being social. But, for Jarred it was something different. It terrified him.

After finishing up with the customer that was in the shop, he sat down behind the counter where the register sat still. The door chimed letting him know that the customer left. He leaned on the counter with his head resting on his hand. It was silent. All he could hear was the air conditioner that would turn off and on every time the room got to the right temperature. His mind began to wonder into his deep web of thoughts that only surfaced when he was alone. Thoughts about his father were something he never wanted to fully come to terms with, he always pushed them down so that they would never see the light of day.

“Why would he do that? Did he not care for us? What was the reason he had to resort to black magic?” the thoughts continued. His heart began to race, his breathing getting faster. He was having a panic attack. Which is a bad thing even if you’re not supernatural but, since he was a witch it kind of messed with his magic. The lights began to flicker. Jarred jumped off his seat and backed up slowly and tried to get control of his breath and heart rate. “Why did he leave us?” he thought to himself. “Why did he leave me?” the thoughts wouldn’t stop. He shook his head.

The door chimes again. Jarred looks up at the door and the lights stop flickering. The customer smiled at the man, “Do you have any ginger root?” she asked him. The thoughts stopped, he shut them tight like you would a bottle cap. “Sure, right over here.” he said as he stepped around the corner and began to conversate with the woman.

Any questions/concerns/things you’d like to change: (siblings to add, pronouns, sexuality you’d like to specify, personality, face claim, history, etc., etc.)

He’s gay, another reason he feels so distant to his mother is because since his father left his relationship with his mother has been rock too. Not because of what happened but, because he didn’t want to get close to another parent and then have them leave as well. But, it also hasn’t helped that he doesn’t talk to her about the things a child should be able to talk about with their parent. He came out to her but, never talks to her about anything because of the fact that he can’t let anyone in.

Jarred gets these panic attacks when he starts to think about his dad and why he left. Mostly when he’s alone and in silence. Because of this he has insomnia and finds it difficult to sleep most of the time. So he resorts to coffee and smoking. (marijuana and cigarettes) With him being a witch, and his emotions being tied to his powers, sometimes his powers get the best of him and cause things to happen around him.

[dinafbrownil]

It’s Not Just You: Picking Health Insurance Is Hard. Here’s How To Be Smart About It.

Science has proved, no kidding around: Picking health insurance is extremely hard.

Special Reports

An Arm and a Leg

May 23

Health care — and how much it costs — is scary. But you’re not alone with this stuff, and knowledge is power. “An Arm and a Leg” is a podcast about these issues, and its second season is co-produced by KHN.

It’s open enrollment — time to pick next year’s insurance — for folks who buy it on their own and for many of us in our jobs. Lots of us aren’t sure we know how to pick, and research shows: We’re not wrong.

A group of economists found that most people will not make the best choice among the plans in front of them.

And it’s not just average people who have trouble. One of the economists who did that research — George Loewenstein of Carnegie-Mellon University — told me he was personally dreading the process of helping his adult son pick a plan.

“I have no confidence that I’m going to make the right decision,” he said.

So, it’s not just you.

Most of us, Loewenstein and his colleagues found, have two main problems: We don’t understand all the terms, and we have a hard time doing the math.

The good news is, you can avoid some of the worst mistakes. That can mean saving thousands, or even tens of thousands of dollars.

Here’s what you’re aiming for.

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Set Realistic Goals

You’ve seen the stats, like how most bankruptcies involve medical debt, and you’ve seen the horror stories, like the guy whose first month of dialysis threatened to stick him with a half-million-dollar bill.

The goal in my family is simple: Avoid disaster.

That may mean paying a little more every month. A health insurance payment — the monthly premium — is very annoying for most of us, especially since we often still have to shell out to see a doctor, even with insurance.

But getting that monthly payment as close to zero as possible? Probably not your best move. Not if it puts you at risk of a horror story you could avoid.

So: Be very careful with plans that don’t comply with Obamacare rules. They’re sometimes marketed as “Trumpcare” — which is not actually a thing — and although they do tend to have lower premiums, they could leave you vulnerable in unexpected ways.

Just ask the woman in Philadelphia who had her foot amputated. Her insurance plan’s response: “Nope! Not covered.”

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Understand The Terms

Quick: What’s a deductible? What’s a copay? What is coinsurance? What does out-of-network mean? What does OPX stand for?

And those are just the basics. If you’ve got them down cold, you can skip to the next section, but otherwise here’s a quick rundown:

The deductible is how much you shell out before your insurance covers much of anything. The amount can be absurdly high. If your plan has a $7,000 deductible, ask yourself, “Where would I get hold of seven grand?”

Copay is how much you pay for an office visit with a doctor. Usually a flat amount: $20 or $30 … or more.

Coinsurance is your share of other medical expenses — stuff that can get pricey, like a hospital stay. Usually expressed as a percentage: 10%, 20%, etc. (Of course, serious medical stuff gets so expensive super quickly, so 10% of a LOT is … a lot.)

The network is the set of providers — doctors, hospitals, clinics — that accept your insurance. Anybody who doesn’t take your insurance may be able to charge you … whatever they want.

OPX stands for out-of-pocket maximum, and it’s a key number: It puts a cap on how much you could pay (beyond your premium) in a given year.

If you could use more detail, here are some resources:

Smart and well-organized: The great reporter Sarah Kliff, formerly of Vox now with the New York Times, offers the most confusing words in your health insurance forms, explained.

Longer, more fun, also great: “An Arm and a Leg” podcast listener Anna Jo Beck sent in a self-published booklet that does a great job explaining the basics and more. Friendly, thoughtful, and sprinkled with lovingly captioned pictures of stuff like toddlers, kittens and newlyweds — which Beck describes as “moments of cute, heartwarming distraction to keep you from totally wanting to give up hope.”

Less warm and fuzzy, but very straightforward: This Health Insurance 101 post from Reddit’s personal-finance community.

Do The Math And The Research

For the math, you’re going to want to make a spreadsheet. Maybe open yourself a beer first.

To evaluate an insurance plan, you’re solving for two things:

1. What does this plan cost me in a normal year?

If you’re superhealthy, maybe that means you don’t go to the doctor at all. If you’ve got some conditions that mean you know you’ll need a provider, or you’re going to need access to meds, figure out what those copays and coinsurance fees might add up to.

2. How much might this plan protect me — and how much would I still have to pay — if, God forbid, I got hit by a bus or something?

That’s really what insurance is for, and you want to know the answer to this one. It’s usually the same as the answer to “What’s my out-of-pocket maximum?” — assuming you’ve done the research.

The research? This is where you study the network.

This step is especially important if there are things you know you will — or could — need next year: Might you or your partner get pregnant? Have you reached the age where docs say you should get a colonoscopy? Is there a funny rash you’re starting to worry about?

You get the idea.

If so, definitely make sure you’re OK with whichever providers are in the network for a given plan.

Because remember that key term, “out-of-pocket maximum”? Well, in a lot of plans — including everything on the Obamacare exchanges — this threshold applies only for in-network providers.

With out-of-network providers, not only are they free to charge whatever they want, your insurance is not there to put any limits on what you might have to pay.

For details about making your spreadsheet: Check out this first-person account by Zachary Tracer, the health care editor at Business Insider — which is illustrated with a photo of him working his spreadsheet, beer close at hand.

About the research: It’s not easy, especially if you’re going to the hospital for something like surgery or childbirth. A reporter from Bloomberg who writes about health care recently posted to Twitter asking for advice.

Get Help, The Best You Can Find

Here’s why my economist source was dreading this process. Getting to the bottom line taxes the average person’s spreadsheet mojo.

I thought I could figure it out on my own. When I said that to Lynn Quincy, who runs the nonprofit Health Care Value Hub, she laughed.

“Your plan could have different deductibles,” she said. “It could have a general deductible, it could have a pharmaceutical deductible, it could have a hospital deductible.”

She was basically saying, How’s your spreadsheet looking now, smart guy?

Of course, the answer was: Looking pretty sad.

For instance, here’s part of an actual quote my insurance agent sent this fall: $200 IP $150 OP

I was, like: What do IP and OP even stand for? Just getting the answer to that required a couple of tries-and-misses with Google on my part — and I report on this stuff full time. (Answer: “inpatient” and “outpatient.” But even now that I’ve got that answer … how could those numbers affect my bottom line?)

There are automated services that can help — basically, databases that do the math for you — but we don’t all have access to them. Some employers offer this kind of thing as a benefit.

Check with your HR department, and if it’s an option, jump on it. And if it isn’t, well: Ask your HR folks all the best questions you can. And ask if they’ll consider adding a service like that next year.

In some states, the Obamacare exchanges offer a similar service, developed by a nonprofit called Consumers Checkbook. Here’s the list of states where that’s available.

For the rest of us, here’s a place to find actual human beings near you whose job it is to explain this stuff. Note that you’ll find two types of folks listed:

“Assisters,” who can help you navigate the Obamacare marketplace or see if you qualify for programs like Medicaid. They’re obligated to be on your side, paid by government grants.

“Agents/brokers” can also help you navigate … but they’re generally paid by insurance companies. And not all states require them to act in your best interest.

OK, there it is — and, of course, it’s not entirely pretty.

Just remember: It’s not just you.

And this: This is not an SAT question. There’s no one right answer.

Especially: It’s not realistic ― and probably not a good idea ― to shoot for a game plan where you end next year having spent the absolute least amount of money possible on health care and insurance. Life is kind of a crapshoot that way.

But with a little patience ― and maybe a stiff drink ― you can reduce the risk that you’ll go broke. And that’s worth doing.

Dan Weissmann is the host of “An Arm and a Leg,” a podcast about the cost of health care, now in its third season. It is co-produced by Kaiser Health News.

from Updates By Dina https://khn.org/news/open-enrollment-picking-health-insurance-is-hard-smart-guide/

[queennicoleinboots]

Day 8 of Xara's Curse:

I Went To A Meeting To Fuck Off (Xara POV)

Co-authored by Jack McGee

Jasper, my 69-year-old client with a love for cigars and hatred for humanity, and I were on the phone. It was the end of a long day of dealing with arguments about racism that started off as a simple argument for why every public pool needs a lifeguard. I also had to deal with the elongated process of paying my bills over the phone because some jackasses are trying to hack everyone. Fuck them. But anyway, Jasper and I like to talk on the way home as soon as Joebear and I speak for a few minutes. Jasper likes to make sure I'm home safe. Apparently, I'm the only human he likes.

"So... what pissed you off this time?" Jasper asked as he hit his head with the phone a few times out of frustration.

"Oh God where do I begin? Oh yeah. You're cool," I said.

"After the obligatory fist fight we had to relieve stress and anxiety, I hope so," he said as he whacked his head with the phone again. That shit was starting to crack me up.

"True, but seriously, I hate Mondays with a fucking passion. Hackers have made it SUCH A NIGHTMARE TO PAY BILLS OVER THE PHONE!" I yelled.

"I know. Some cyber jackasses always have to do something," Jasper said with a sigh.

"And, I'm worried about Mickey Mouse showing up if the VA is around next Friday to do inspection. They could possibly call Adult Protective Services and the FBI. That idea scares the hell out of me. Mickey Mouse is the VA's sworn enemy. Not to mention he has been haunting your place for the last few weeks. What the fuck did I do?" I asked.

"Apparently, he is pissed that I'm not watching more Disney movies. I don't fucking know!" Jasper shouted.

"Mickey Mouse is a sick fuck. Speaking of sick, most everyone is getting sicker, and that stresses me out. Your back is more in pain. Jamie's pain is literally through the roof. His back brace is hanging out of the ceiling. Mr. Williamson is now making everything a racist joke against white people, especially Italians. And, Joebear is having muscle spasms in his back," I ranted.

"Jesus. What else?" Jasper asked.

"The state of Georgia itself is becoming a frustration. I'm not kidding when I say these people are driving me fucking crazy!" I exclaimed.

"Haha. It's true. I'm crazy because I've been in the South for too long," Jasper said with a crazy laugh.

"These early morning risers drive me to the brink of insanity. How the fuck are we supposed to sleep?!" I screamed as I drove furiously through my wooded route home at night.

"We don't!" Jasper said with a loud, jovial laugh.

"Truly. Some people just spam call you until you wake up. Hasn't anyone heard of sleep around here? I wondered why this place has zombies walking around, but then I discovered no one actually fucking sleeps around here. Plus, we live an hour and a half away from the Center of Disease Control," I said with a chuckle.

"Haha, yeah! It might help their brains if they slept, too," Jasper said with a laugh.

"My landlady should also be a target practice dummy. She doesn't want to use our rent money to hire a lifeguard. I hope someone sues the fuck out of her if God Forbid someone were to have a heart attack over the sheer amount of bullshit she puts every fucking resident through," Xara screamed.

"So glad I have my own house and own pool. Fuck that nonsense! Target practice, lol, I don't understand how the easiest job as a property manager can be fucked up. They fuck up everything. They looked at me like I was a stupid idiot for parking there. I lived there, too. 'Yeah well I'm a woman.' I don't care if you have a vagina," Jasper said as he laughed. Yes, he did say "lol."

"Did I mention I have a meeting tomorrow dealing with women?" I asked before commenting. "Fuck tomorrow's meeting. Fuck tomorrow's meeting. Fuck tomorrow's meeting. The last time I saw these people I was a zombie screaming, 'BRAINS! I need some. I'm starving. Fuck. I'm in Georgia. I won't be undead for very long, will I?!'"

Jasper was laughing and banging his fists on his TV tables. "Oh God. I'm sure that will be awkward! They'll be happy to see you."

"Why not? We're all going there to fuck off," I said.

"So, you will fuck off tomorrow?" Jasper asked.

"Yep. And I'm home. Thank you. See you when I am done fucking off," I said as I stopped the car and turned off the ignition.

___________________________________________

At the meeting:

I literally just walked into my Housekeeper's Association meeting to hear Shakira, the Human Resources lady going on a rant.

"Well, I'm going to fuck off from fucking off. It has already been a long day," she said.

I chuckled. I completely agreed with her. I had just woken up, and I already felt like the day was long.

I sat down next to some fellow housekeepers and started to help everyone fill out the necessary paperwork.

I wrote some smartass comments on mine just to show my disgust with this bureaucratic bullshit. I was okay with the Parkers (which I now had to write a weekly report on because they lived in a district that all homeowners and housekeeping want to see. What's so special about Logantown anyway?), Mr. Williamson, and Jasper. It was just all the bureaucratic rules of the Housekeeper's or should I say Housekeeping Association. Yes, they changed the name. More bureaucratic bullshit.

So, I learned that the name changed from Housekeeper's Association to Housekeeping Association, that I am required to write progress notes on the Parkers (I'll ask Godiva to write them for me. She's more normal.), and that I have to redo my fingerprints so that I can be stalked by the federal government.

There were mostly old ladies who were technologically-challenged at the meeting. There were only two males in the entire meeting, a 40-year-old black man who was a techno whiz and an ex-housekeeper and a 50-year-old white male who looked like a typical Georgia resident. The latter of the two was nothing to write home about.

The black 40-year-old techno whiz was named Ezekiel Daniels and the leader of the meeting. Yes, he was Jewish.

When we talked about the VA not paying any extra money for services, I loudly muttered, "JEWS!" Ezekiel laughed and went on with the meeting. He noted my disgruntled attitude toward the VA. Jasper has to forgive them for putting him in jail last year, but I don't. I can hate those murderous fuckers all I want. Because that is what the military is about: "legitimate" murdering. Jasper never killed anyone himself, but he sort-of maybe possibly thought about assisting many people in killing.

Mr. Williamson was a medic in the Gulf War, so he definitely never killed anyone. He had the only acceptable job in the military. So, I never brought up anything negative about the VA around him.

Shortly after I (accurately) called the VA a bunch of Jews, a black Millennial woman who was a CNA behind me kept commenting about how she used to work like an idiot until her kidneys blew out.

It was true. Most of us look like hell. Most of us were overweight. I sort of am because I'm 5'1 and 140 pounds. But there were some of us that were some serious fatties in that meeting. One was 5'2 and 200 pounds. That black bitch was a porker.

Anyhow, Ezekiel had mentioned that a housekeeper wasn't wearing a brassiere on that particular day and that we were required to wear "proper undergarments." My thought process was, "What? Were you looking at her breasts again? I'll give you proper undergarments. I'll put a bandaid on each of my nipples so that I could wear proper undergarments and you can fuck off. Most other countries don't wear bras or give a fuck, either. In fact, no other company gives two fucks about bras period. Obviously, these people are not concerned with their house being clean. Nor do they have hobbies to worry about their own shit.

In other news, women sometimes don't wear bras because they don't want to deal with breast sweat, and they are FUCKING UNCOMFORTABLE. She should have told him to wear a bra one day and see how the fuck he likes. Maybe she forgot because the Housekeeper-ing Association is so fucking stressful. Maybe she got titty-fucked rough, and her breasts were sore. Maybe she just didn't give a fuck anymore. Maybe we need something to talk about. In fact, why don't we for a change figure out how to make their houses shine even more. Seriously, I'm going to wear a bra anymore ever. And I am going to use my bras as cleaning rags. How the fuck would this piece of shit association like that?!"

I texted Jasper out of disbelief and frustration , "We changed the name of the Housekeeper's Association to Housekeeping Association. And I'm not wearing a bra anymore ever again. If people don't like it, they can fuck off."

There was a literal walrus woman at the front of the meeting who weighed 500 pounds. She was talking about clocking in and out. Could a bra even fit her? Seriously? How many bras would you put together to make her boobs not sag? I bet it would be at least five.

Jasper texted back, "What the fuck? What's the difference? Are you kidding me? By the way, good idea. I am sick of hearing women bitch about bras. This text brought horrible memories of my late wife talking about how she was hungry, hot, tired, and needed to take her bra off. Excuse me. I'm going to throw a fucking temper tantrum."

I texted back, "I haven't the slightest fucking idea. P.S. Sorry. I forgot about that. That makes me to burn my bras."

Some of the ladies were underweight and looked like skeletor. They looked like they needed a few sandwiches.

In short, it was a fuck-off meeting. I almost said "Fuck it", left my shit on the table, and left. Was there slight sexual harrassment? I want to burn my bras and then leave the ashes on Ezekiel's fucking desk.

In fact, when I left that God-forsaken meeting, I went back to work after and before throwing a temper tantrum. Upon further editing and reading and re-reading the account of this God-Forsaken meeting, I feel my tantrums were justified.

[russellthornton]

The Best Compliments for Girls: 20 Genuine Lines She’ll Love to Hear

These are the 20 best compliments for girls that every girl would love to hear. Just remember, when you compliment her to be sincere and respectful.

Nowadays, the best compliments for girls means more than telling her that you think she is pretty. And in case you didn’t know, it has never been catcalling, unwanted touching, or calling her honey or sweetheart.

Truly complimenting a girl means knowing her and knowing what matters to her. Sure she likes to hear that you think her top looks nice, or that red is her color, but a real and genuine compliment is more than that.

Discovering the best compliments for girls

Not just any compliment will be right for all girls. All girls are amazing and strong badasses. In order to compliment a girl the right way, you should know a bit about her.

Compliment her on her skills, talents, strength, voice. There are compliments you can give a girl you barely know for sure, but the more you know about her the more those compliments will mean. [Read: Fun and flirty questions to get to know a girl better]

The worst compliments for girls

Yes, yes, we will get to the best compliments for girls. First, I wanted to just throw out some of the worst compliments. These may seem like a good idea, but when you actually break them down, they are far from compliments.

So, please avoid these “compliments,” if you can even really call them that.

#1 The extra compliment. Sure, everyone loves a compliment. Do not overdo it. This just comes across as desperate. If you see a girl at the bar and want to compliment her, say something like, “you are just so stunning I had to come over and introduce myself.” But end it there.

If you start talking and she says she is an entrepreneur, you can compliment her on her dedication. Do not tell her she is beautiful and then tell her she looks great in black, has amazing hair, and perfect eyes. Take it easy. [Read: The signs you’re coming on way too strong]

#2 The inappropriate compliment. “I’m not usually into blondes.” Just no. Saying you are not usually into tall girls, brunettes, or God forbid you mention her race in your “compliment” is a compliment no-go.

You might think you are making her feel like she stands out. Really you are just being an awful human being.

#3 The backhanded compliment. “You’re pretty for being so tall.” “All that makeup is hiding how pretty you are.” If your compliment has a but in it, it is not a compliment. [Read: Girls spill on what are the manliest and unmanliest things a guy does]

#4 The sexist compliment. “You’re so different from other girls.” What the f*ck is wrong with other girls? “You’re funny for a pretty girl.” What does that even mean? Speaking to a girl as if she hates other women, how you clearly do is just not okay. 

#5 The uninformed compliment. This is one that creeps me out personally. Sure, if a guy comes up to me and says I’m pretty, that is all fine and well. If a guy on a dating app says he loves my second photo, wonderful.

But if a guy reads my dating profile and looks at my five pictures and then continues to tell me how fun I am, how sweet I am, and how we would be great together, I question not only how genuine *fake* he is, but also what are his motives? Do not compliment a girl on something you don’t know anything about.

The best compliments for girls

Now that you know some of the non-compliment compliments to stay away from, here are some golden compliments. These are the best compliments for girls that are likely to get you into a decent conversation and at the very least, a smile.

#1 You make me laugh/smile. This is a simple one for sure, but it works. Telling a girl that she makes you smile is sweet and sincere. It is not over the top or cheesy. [Read: The 25 sweetest romantic gestures for everyday life]

#2 I always have such a great time with you. Again, this may not be the most unique compliment for girls but it is one of the best. Knowing that someone genuinely enjoys spending time with me means so much more than hearing that I am pretty.

#3 I would love to see you again. Whether you just met or are on a first date, letting her know you are excited to see her again is a compliment. Maybe not in the direct way, but hearing that will make her feel not just relieved, but excited as well.

#4 That is so impressive. When she tells you what she does for a living, what her hobby is, or really anything about herself, letting her know you are impressed by her accomplishments is refreshing to hear. Even in this age, men seem to be intimidated by women. Letting her know how awesome you think she is, is so great to hear.

#5 You inspire me. Whether it is her humanitarian work, her love for animals, or patience for dealing with the lazy guy at work, let her know how what she does makes you feel like you can do more.

#6 I love your style. Why is this better than saying “you look great?” It is more about her than how she looks. Loving that she can put an outfit together that reflects who she is, is what impresses you, not that it shows off her cleavage. [Read: 8 ways men don’t realize they’re subtly shaming women]

#7 You are always teaching me something new. With mansplaining still on the rise, telling a woman and even thanking her for teaching you something you didn’t know before is refreshing. Even admitting that she knows something you don’t is a compliment of sorts.

#8 Your hair looks great. Noticing a change is not just a shallow compliment. Noticing that she changed her hair or got eyelash extensions doesn’t mean you are only drawn into her looks, but that you take the time to pay attention to everything about her.

#9 You’re easy to talk to. I love hearing this. Even after talking to someone new for all of 15 minutes, hearing that someone thinks I am easy to open up to says a lot more than a basic compliment. It tells me that I am comforting and trustworthy and that that is seen pretty quickly.

#10 Thank you. Appreciate her. Tell her that you appreciate her. Whether you are thanking her for fixing your collar or going with you to a work dinner, make sure she knows that you do not expect anything of her, but that you would and will do the same for her. [Read: How to express your appreciation without words]

#11 You have the best laugh. I swear everyone is self-conscious of their laugh. It seems to be a universal thing. Even the most confident people are embarrassed by their own laugh. Telling her that you love hers and find it endearing will make her more comfortable around you.

#12 You have such great taste. Again instead of saying I love that meal or design or top, telling her she has great taste compliments more than one specific thing or moment. It is you telling her that you have confidence in her opinion.

#13 What’s your opinion on…? How is asking for her opinion a compliment? It is a compliment and one of the best! It shows you care what she thinks. She sees her voice matters to you and you take her opinion into account on everything, like which shirt to wear or if you should accept a new job.

#14 You make me a better person. Everyone wants to be with someone who not only accepts them for who they are but also inspires them to be the best version of themselves. Telling her that she makes you want to be better is telling her that you look up to her in a way. You want to be worthy of her love. [Read: The 10 important traits to be a good boyfriend]

#15 I feel like I can be myself with you. Knowing that you feel comfortable around her will really matter to her. It will also let her be herself around you. We all hold back a little, especially at first, but when you feel safe with someone all your quirks come out and it makes a stronger connection.

#16 I trust you. This may not sound like a compliment. But earning someone’s trust is a very big deal. When you trust her with your heart, a key to your apartment, or to make dinner for you, all of those things matter. Hearing it will make her very happy.

#17 I can’t believe you remembered that. I am sure you are continuously amazed by the thoughtful things she does. Whether she brought you your favorite cupcake for your birthday or planned a surprise trip to your favorite place.

But showing your gratitude and awe at how she remembers even the things you say in passing will make her feel like everything she does is noticed by you.

#18 You are so strong. For years, girls have been told we are delicate like flowers, and sweet like sugar, well, blah blah blah. Women are strong. Not only do we run businesses, plan marches, and birth children, but we do it all without equal pay, with sexism, and periods.

Tell her how strong she is. She may not even realize it day to day. She constantly does so much that you can’t even fathom. Remind her of her strength. How proud you are of her and how proud she should be of herself.

#19 You are so open-minded. I don’t know about you, but even though I consider myself open-minded I am always worried I am judging people unfairly. But, if someone that knows me well tells me I am not judgmental, but am open-minded and fair, I can reassure myself of that.

Don’t only make her feel good about how you see her. Make her feel good about how she sees herself. [Read: 20 easy ways to make your girlfriend incredibly happy]

#20 I love your confidence. One mistake a lot of people make when giving a girl a compliment is making it about them instead of about her. It does not always have to be about what you think, but of what and how she thinks. A lot of compliments are built in a way that tells a woman she shouldn’t know how amazing she is until a man tells her.

Instead, tell her she deserves to believe in herself and you love that she is confident.

[Read: Effortless, small gestures that girls notice and appreciate]

The best compliments for girls are the ones that flatter who she truly is and what you. genuinely know about her. Dig deep and flatter her outside and in.

The post The Best Compliments for Girls: 20 Genuine Lines She’ll Love to Hear is the original content of LovePanky - Your Guide to Better Love and Relationships.

[kayawagner]

Start-up Diaries, Santiago Edition> Chileans are Chill

If you are planning on coming to Chile for more than a week and you are going somewhere besides the Intercontinental Hotel and the U.S. Embassy, odds are, you’ll be meeting and working with some Chileans. If you had been paying attention to this blog, you would be studying Spanish by now and know that they are called chilenos (or chilenas if it’s a group of all women). Here are a few tips to help you adjust.

A full-time job is 45 hours. Full stop.

People work 9 hour days, which means they go to lunch later than you are probably accustomed, somewhere between 1 and 3. Also, rush hour, to go home, will be an hour or so later. You can still be in mad traffic in Santiago at 7 or 8 pm. So, Chileans work pretty seriously but usually, when they leave work, they leave work. You’ll rarely get any emails on weekends or holidays. Lots of stores and restaurants are closed on Saturdays and even more on Sundays. Unlike in the U.S., where banks, schools and government offices close on federal holidays and everything else is open, here, when it’s a holiday, the majority of businesses close. If you really need to find something open on a Sunday, find an American chain – Forever 21, Subway, Starbucks will keep closer to American hours.

People go on vacation here, for two or three weeks at a time, and they are actually on vacation. They don’t answer emails or return phone calls because they are on vacation. What a concept!

I’m trying to adopt some of these ideas, but very slowly. I’ve been logging the hours I work each week and I try to stop when I get to 50, even if it’s Friday at 2 pm. That means that I have started taking every Saturday off. I’m also planning a vacation next March. My daughters are taking bets it won’t happen.

The Most Chilean Thing Anyone Ever Said

As I mentioned in a previous post, drama is not a thing here.

I have never once, in the months I have been here, heard anyone yell out,

“This is f%%$$  bull$$$& !”

Which someone says at least once a day in my own house in California.  Of course, that’s usually me saying it, but not always.

In the co-work one day, I was joking with Matias, who is the voice of Manuel Rodriguez in our game under development, Siglo de Cambio. I said,

“No one hates Manuel Rodriguez. Well, of course, except for O’Higgins.”

He answered,

“He didn’t hate him. He was just jealous.”

I responded,

“Dude! He had him assassinated!”

I turned to the person next to us, also Chilean and said,

“Did you hear what he said? He said that O’Higgins didn’t really hate Rodriguez, he was just jealous.”

And she said

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 “He’s probably right. O’Higgins was probably just jealous of Rodriguez.”

It is rare to hear Chileans talk smack about other people. They do, but not nearly as often as in the U.S., as evidenced by,

“Let us not judge. Who among us hasn’t wanted to kill their political enemies?”

And then they named the main street in Santiago after the guy.

Chileans are impervious to weather

Do you think because it’s in South America it’s all tropical beaches?

That’s Costa Rica, Not Chile

  Here is the same week in Santiago and the daughter in that picture above was a bit miffed when she got here.

Despite getting into the 40s and 50s (that’s Fahrenheit, not Celsius), Chileans are very relaxed about the weather. I know this is what my North Dakota friends consider spring, but my California ass is freezing here. Lots of buildings don’t have central heating. My apartment doesn’t. When I told the landlady this was crazy, she bought me a space heater, which broke shortly thereafter. I currently have on a sweater, a space heater I bought myself and the oven turned on, and I’m still cold.

You’ll see loads of people sitting outside eating lunch when it’s in the forties and they can’t all be nuts, I don’t think.

I was driving in the pouring rain down a mountain road and this older man was out walking. I don’t know where he was going because I was just south of nowhere, but he had his umbrella and he was trudging up a dirt road. He’d decided he was walking to wherever and a little torrential rain wasn’t going to stop him.

For Chileans, however the weather is, they just get on with life.

Okay, so maybe I’m a whiny baby and I always want the thermostat to be within two degrees of a comfortable 76 Fahrenheit. Still, if I wanted it to be cold and foggy and always have to wear wool sweaters, I’d move to Ireland. They have a good start-up environment, too, and I wouldn’t have to learn a second language.

You can be too chill

If you’re an American, especially from one of the coasts, some “chill” will drive you crazy.

Whether it is opening a bank account, or God forbid any government paperwork like a visa or paying your taxes, it’s going to take you longer and involve more bureaucracy than you are expecting. You may as well marry a notary because you are going to be spending so much time with one.

Remember I said the heater broke? Things break more and stay broken longer because Chile is not as affluent a country as the U.S. This means there is less waste but it also means things aren’t being replaced as often and things you expect won’t necessarily be there, whether it is an  iron in your hotel room or central heating.

People are more accepting of things not working right. For example, I get a latte at this little coffee shop on my way to work most mornings. A couple of weeks ago, they ran out of lids. Yesterday, when I stopped in for coffee, they were still out of lids and now they were out of medium cups, so I had a cappuccino instead. Now, that’s not the end of the world, but there are a pile of experiences like that which will combine to make you a little less comfortable than you are in the U.S. – that is, assuming you’re not a poor American, because if you are, you’re probably kind of uncomfortable already. If you are a poor American, you’re probably not making it to Santiago because it’s expensive to get here.

The Bottom Line

As you might have gathered, except for the language, most of the differences between the U.S. and Chile, while they might be unexpected, depending on what you knew before you got here, are not huge. Now saying that, I realize I came from Los Angeles, where about 18 million people live in the metro area to Santiago, with around 17 million. If I’d moved from Pierre, South Dakota or to the Atacama Desert, I might have a different view.

Chile has less corruption, a better economy and a better educational system than a lot of countries in the world. The fact that it’s on the same time zone as the East Coast right now doesn’t hurt when it comes to doing business. (That’s another unexpected thing, because daily savings time happens on different dates, the difference in Santiago time and D.C. can vary from zero to two hours depending on the time of year.)

Anyway, taken altogether, my prediction is that the probability looks good for more American businesses expanding to Chile. After all, a lot of things are the same. That’s another post, though.

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