#when in reality Go just- is barely a person who only emotes in the getter cause god damn you getter rays

[no1ryomafan]

Despite the fact I’m watching G in the dub I keep remembering the fact Allenby is voiced by Kei in the sub and then start laughing remembering Domon is voiced by Go but also I’m like “I think they would unironically all be besties even if they’re dynamics are still different enough”

[lastcrystalwitch]

Feeling Guilty Taking Time for Myself

When there are many things that need to get done, sometimes it seems like I am looking at a to-do list that is never going to end. I attempt to run around the house, studious and determined, to meet the day with expectations that I will have a cleaner house vs. the mess that it was previously in. I just need to remind myself that doing a little bit every day will get me to the cleanliness level that I am so desperately searching for.

I grew up middle-upper class. My mother was a house wife, and took great pride in keeping the house clean. Even if I go over there now it is spotless.

This means I grew up with a discipline system that when you made a mess, you were criticized, punished, or scrutinized. Needless to say, it is ingrained in me that success comes from being clean, neat and tidy. When dishes aren't piled in the sink, there will be no excuse for bugs to take up residence. When I lived in Arizona in with an ex who liked to have parties and friends over who never picked up after themselves, forced me to deal with infestations of cockroaches. Much to my horror and the irreverence of my ex-husband and his roommate who left pizza boxes half way piled to the ceiling. Not only was I unappreciated, but I was busy. I worked two jobs and went to school full time, paying most of the rent and paying for my college and his. I put him through school. I wonder if he ever got off his entitled ass and put in the hard work and got his degree? I was not respected, appreciated, and my needs were never put first unless I put them first.

2012 was a horror show.

I have lived in filth, much to my dismay and been completely out of my control from people moving in animals who had fleas, and possibly parvo, and have payed over a grand fixing my mom's house infested with fleas because of other people who brought their pets over my house and infected my pets. I have been the one, time and time again, to self sacrifice myself to help others, fix others problems, clean up their messes. Now that I am older, and wiser, I am learning what it is that makes me tick. And for me its unacceptable for others not to help out.

But I have to change. I have to be able to tell others that they have to help instead of just expecting them to pick up a broom and get to work. I just don't want to sound like a nagging person. But I realize that others simply don't have the same priorities that I do. And this is a difficult pill to swallow, kind of. Never assume that someone knows how you feel. How can they? People can't read minds. You can read a room. You can read someone's body language. But unless you let them tell you what the hell is going on inside their head, you can only assume. And circular thoughts of assumptions lead to misunderstandings. Lack of communication period will break up a relationship.

I need to get better at saying what I want. What I need, and what I expect. That is what has made trouble in the past with roommates. I just have such an ungodly fear of hurting other people's feelings. A real fear that is as real for me as a natural disaster is real to the residences of that area. This debilitating fear of rejection, and fear of disappointing others can no longer be an excuse for me not to move forward with growing as an individual. And self reflection takes a lot of time. It takes a lot of work. But if we never strive to get better ... we never will.

But I've had only 25% control of the cleanliness of my house so far. With myself usually being the only person who cleans out of the 4 people who used to be there, its easy to feel out of control, hopeless, constantly stepping on wires, dirt, dust, and trash and dirt absolutely out of control. I was the only person cleaning routinely for the past 2 years basically. No one else seems to put cleanliness as a priority except for me. It simply felt like no one cared. And I thought no one cared on purpose. That they didn't care about me. I thought that since the house was never cleaned, it was all up to me.

But at what cost?

Its possible to keep a spotless home, or at the very least a tidy home, but everyone has to be on board.

Oh. And did I mention? My house has been a construction zone for the past two years with people constantly moving in and out of it. I helped purchase the house, but I have had zero control over the residents.

I grew up with a manipulative narrsacistic mother, a misunderstood dad who was never there because he was always at work, and a single brother who turned to bullying as a way to deal with what he was going through growing up. There were always feelings of I am not good enough. I am not a good enough student. I am not a good enough daughter. I was always trying to please others, and dealt with more mental abuse than you can shake a stick at. Its enough that I wrote journal after journal so I'd never forget about the unfairness exacted on me, horrific stories that would make you want to put your fist through the wall.

The bullying and constantly being told that my emotions and thoughts were wrong, and then told how I should be thinking, forced me into thoughts that self harm and mutilation is acceptable. Its really not okay to be treated that way. Because if I'm not doing something right I should be punished. I have since identified this as an irrational thought. But this was just a dip into my past reality. No one can ever scream at me and abuse me the way that I have done to myself. Because I expect it now. Before, I was okay with that. That was normal for me.

When I GTFO of my moms house in 2007, she called the cops on me because she thought, correctly, that I was running away. For me, it always takes someone else who cares about me, to tell me, no. The way that your mom treated you was wrong. My friends have told me, previous boyfriends, and even their entire families have told me what an abusive dysfunctional family I have suffered through as I was raised.

You know what makes me laugh? My mom is so caught up in herself that she cannot see how she's hurt me. She tells me that my previous boyfriends manipulated me and brainwashed me into thinking that she was the bad guy. Which wasn't true. I ran because I needed to get the hell out of toxicity at any cost or I was going to cut too deep one day and that would have been the end of it. Had I stayed in that situation. There was so much injustice that I was suffering, that when my chance came to not only get a college degree and move forward with my own life, I took it. Moving out in the middle of the night, not telling my mom where I was going. Getting married so that I could put myself through college, which I did. Taking my favorites with me and gaining guardianship of my best friend who was 16, and moving her out of a toxic situation as well. I picked everyone up that I cared about, and with the three grand that I had saved from working Monday-Friday since I was 15, I took others with me. I helped others start their life over. I helped give myself and others, that second chance that they were so desperately in need of. I saved a life. And I will never take that back or change my mind that leaving the best decision that I ever made in my life.

With one roommate out the door for new beginnings, and the second one about to venture off on great adventures, I will have only two weeks to have the house to myself for the first time since I bought it two years ago. My life partner and I will be alone in the house with just our pets, and dreams. I am greatly looking forward to it.

I plan to clean the house spotless before his family moves back in with us, two weeks after everyone has left. Honestly though I am very excited to have his family stay with us. His sister is super smart, retired Navy, and has a brilliant mind that is second to none. Her husband is a happy go lucky go getter that doesn't mind sacrificing a day to help me go run errands. He is able to keep most of the things on my list in his head, and its amazing because this means that I'm not forgetting a butt ton at the store. Their daughter is a cunning little angel. She's super smart. 4? I think?

I'd really like to take them to a park once it warms up and do some professional photos for them. They have a beautiful family! And some of the kindest coolest people I've ever met.

His sister is interesting to talk to. She has a mindset that is very different than mine, and very logical based, where I have a very intuition based mindset. She illuminates points of view, that are refreshing, feministic, and not selfish, but thinking of yourself first, which is what I am trying to work on.

My brother in law once told me I needed to stop being passive aggressive. I'm working on that.

I think his sister is a very good role model for me, and I look up to her because my brain is always flooded with how I can take care of everyone else, and while she has a kind heart and good morals, she always looks out for herself and family first. This is different than what I do, which I'd like to change. Because It is difficult for me to think of myself first at all. Except the bare minimum.

For people like me, I have heard, it can be difficult to relax. It can be easy to get overwhelmed because I flood my brain with a list of tasks half a mile long, and think of others worries more so than my own. My old way of thinking was, if I make them happy, and help solve their issues, they'll be happy and that will make me happy. But this is a flawed way of thinking I am realizing.

Don't judge me. We all learn life lessons at different times in our lives. I have had a lifetime of poor inner thought process that I finally feel like I have the tools I need for self recovery, and reprogramming my brain.

It has been a hard past year. Many, many dramatic changes, heart break, and suffering. Many many tears have been shed, bonds have been strengthened, people have been pushed to learn lessons they haven't learned yet either. Not just me. We've all changed. We've all grown. The difference between me and everyone else is, I'm ready to become a better version of myself through self reflection, not succumbing to negative self talk, but shaping my mind to be more positive instead of me just mentally putting myself down. I'm using tools like, meditation, exercise, positive self talk, gratitude, routine, spending time with myself for myself, music, writing out thoughts, and getting enough sleep, which I aim for 7 hours a night. Sometimes I make it sometimes I don't.

But these are the tools that anyone can use to help them feel better and improve themselves. I highly recommend using these tools which when you realize that if you take care of yourself and listen to your inner voice, and take control of your feelings ... it's the recipe for happiness.

[fmdkangjin]

                  famedkrp idol hc meme 〔 accepting 〕

○ for a training headcanon ↴  〔 228w 〕

kangjin especially struggled with his expressive delivery while performing through his initial years training with mars. his coaches weren’t happy with his vocal tone of delivery and how it matched through compared to his expression. to be polite, they thought he looked bland. sometimes neutral expressions can work for an idol, but his focus on dancing and delivery within his time as a trainee he was repeatedly failing to nail the ‘emotion’ of a song. for title tracks it didn’t always make the difference but during their b-sides and for long sets he looked repetitive and robotic. it was a long time struggle for kangjin and a lot of training. he would watch himself back starting with dancing, using the mirrored practice room, practicing making the right expressions during choreography, since dancing is the thing as an idol that came easiest to him. matching it while lip syncing was the next step in his process though that took much longer, longer than expected even. it took his entire time as a trainee to find a place he and his team were comfortable with for his performance. to find his ‘stage presence’ or ‘persona’ as an idol. he’s become adept at forced smiles, though he doesn’t have explosive delivery especially during moments of vocal/rap delivery, he’s come a long way from where he began through hard work and dedication.

♥ for a headcanon about something my muse likes about being an idol  ↴   〔 216w 〕

ok well see, kangjin doesn’t particularly like anything about being an idol. if he could run away to the country side and take back his whole decision and instead be a no name, no money dancer he would. but i would say if he enjoys or appreciates anything about being an idol it’s the choreo and dance. he really does find a happy place in dancing. the time he spends just grinding dance in front of the mirrors in the dimensions training rooms until he can barely stand anymore is a strangely peaceful mood and he always leaves for the showers and late night snack afterwards exhausted but incredibly satisfied. i think because he can pretend he’s just a dancer living a simple life, preparing for a set or a stage performance without all the extra humdrum that being an idol offers. so definitely the fact that he gets to dance in front of the world, on a stage that is as big as his love for dance is, that’s probably the only thing he really likes about being an idol. i think without the choreography to dig him out of his depression and anxiety during trainee years and into their rookie years, kangjin would be in a much worse place than he is right now.

☛  for a public image headcanon  ↴   〔 253w 〕

there’s a real disengage with who kangjin is as a person outside of his work persona and every single year, as he becomes a better and better idol (a more ‘perfect’ idol who has his persona mask more effortlessly in place) it becomes more and more obvious. kangjin as a public person, or rather ig the way he seems, is a usually smiling, somewhat quiet but always present person. he tends to stand himself in the middle of his group members and never turns away the mic when it’s handed to him. he dances on command and does basically everything told of him in a way that seems natural and instantaneous. he’s learned over the years to move on command and do what he’s told without thinking about it. in fact kangjin is never embarrassed about ‘doing his job’ which let’s be honest is what he considers his image with the public. his idol public image is a lot more outgoing than he is in reality? a lot more of a go-getter, a lot more likely to smile and take challenges head on. he’s so conscious of the way he comes across to cameras and watching eyes, it’s a little unhealthy how aware of himself and others he is. there’s just become this big gap between who he really is and what people see him behaving like in public. it’s for sure that his members and close friends have noticed the most, but after growing closer to him anyone can see it.

♠ for misconceptions fans or the public have about my muse  ↴   〔 272w 〕

it’s tricky here because basically his whole public persona is a misconception by design lol. but i think that’s also the answer here? fans generally tend to perceive him as competitive (to a fault), outgoing and frequently smiling kind of man who can take every challenge he faces head on. in fact, he’s developed that impression of himself to such a fine tuned degree that when he lets it slip, fans take notice instantly. oh, kangjin isn’t smiling today i wonder if something’s wrong? kangjin looks exhausted today, dimensions must be overworking him. or during fan signs when they meet him face to face and he’s even a little more reserved than he seems on stage or from afar it becomes this noteworthy thing or sometimes it becomes a matter of them thinking he’s not doing well? when in reality, that’s just him being more himself than usual. honestly it’s a really harmful cycle because it leads him to keeping his mask up higher and higher, and in some ways he feels like he can no longer relax as long as there’s cameras. he can be relaxing and doing his own thing in a waiting room but a camera crew walks in and he can’t even behave like he wants. like a jack in the box he straightens his spine and smiles and puts on a show and in no way does that feel sustainable to him. he’s exhausted? but he’s got this idea of who he ‘has to be’ that he can’t seem to escape. it creates so many misconceptions for fans when they catch glimpses of who he really is.

♞ for a non-performance talent headcanon  ↴   〔 243w 〕

piano definitely. he’s exceptionally good at piano. it’s a talent he cultivated for many years in his youth thanks to his father pushing him into lessons for basically anything and everything. but the paino in particular he got the hang of and still uses as a skill to this day. he can still play guitar for instance, but he’s pretty rusty, and he can only play what he reads from music sheets or remember strings, he can’t freestyle, and he isn’t really ‘good’ at it. but paino he can not only read keys he can improvise if he wants to, plus sometimes he still plays the keys when he can’t sleep. i know for a fact kangjin wouldn’t call this a ‘talent’ in that word exactly, he doesn’t think he’s good enough, but he does know how to play. he can sit at a stool and probably rock someones socks off with his playing but he would just squeeze the back of his neck and laugh awkwardly if he was told it was ‘a talent’ lol. if he wanted to, or had any interest in it for that matter, he could probably use his talent with keys to compose music, and he could post covers to his twitter, but as it is it’s a talent that the average fan probably doesn’t know? maybe the actual kangjin stans who actually pay attention to his vlives has seen him mention it quietly once or twice.

[queenismyprimejive]

How can something so wrong feel so right? (Present Day!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader)

Synopsis: The reader develops all sorts of feelings for Roger, but doesn’t know how she feels about them, or how to act them out. And when they get caught and have to face reality, what will they do?

W/C: 3,251 oops xD

Warnings: 18+ Just some light smut. For those who are worried it is just some inappropriate yet not unwanted touching with a hint of wanting some more. Some flirting, some fluff, you know, just the usual😉 Do mind that there is an age gap between Roger and the Reader, although nothing too crazy.

A/N: I have taken a liking to our current Rog at the moment. How could I not when he is the sweetest man to grace planet earth? I’m picturing the studio as to how he showed it in his two vlogs on Instagram. Idk about you guys, but I always feel a bit weird writing about people that are still in our midst today, especially when it’s about Roger, it’s not a bad feeling though, I’m just really apprehensive when I write about real-life people.  

Present Day

That kiss. It shouldn’t have happened. Or actually it should, but it shouldn’t. It wasn’t right. He was a 69-year old celebrated musician-songwriter, I was just a 37-year old assistant-producer. Ughh why is this so hard? I guess it sort of happened. I should have seen it coming though. Two months of playful banter, innocent winking, mostly coming from him, the intense staring when no one was looking, the hand that lingered on the small of my back a little bit too long, until the warmth from his fingers seared the skin underneath my clothing whenever he let me go first. They were all signs, gestures that suggested something more and it was difficult not be swept away by them. They had ignited a feeling in me, a stirring I thought I had lost and never to find again. Until I met Roger.

A week earlier…

Two months ago, I thought I had landed my dream job as an assistant producer at a well-known music studio in central-London, but nothing was further from the truth. I thought it was my way into the world of music, at the bottom of the ladder so to speak, but a way in nonetheless, to see the dream of producing my own music become a reality. All I had gotten to do up to this point was to play a glorified secretary, handling phone calls, booking appointments and if it was my lucky day, taking notes during meetings. Some artists that came in to record their music even saw me as their personal coffee-getter and made me fetch all sorts of things. It was becoming quite a drag, to be honest. But that all changed the day I met Queen. Unlike the other artists, they were actually kind and respectful to me, appreciated my opinion when it came to their songwriting and music-making and even showed me the basics of their recording process, something of which I was very grateful of. Around that time, I felt something had shifted in my relationship with Roger. Although I was too oblivious to see what that really meant.  

At present time, the clock had struck 1 p.m. which meant lunchtime. I saw all the other staff members leave the recording booth to get lunch and saw it as my cue to get up and retreat to my usual seat behind my desk to eat my lunch.

“Where are you going?”, Roger asked as I gathered my stuff and was halfway out of the door already before figuring out what to reply.

“Eating lunch at my desk as usual”, I shrugged, but barely dared to look up at him.

“That sounds kind of lonely”, he replied. “Why don’t you come and have lunch with me? I can give you a tour of the studio if you want?”

I bit my lip and suddenly took a very profound interest in the patterns on the floor. I had been asking to get into the studio for weeks now, and this proved to be a golden opportunity. However, after weeks of silent, continuous flirting, mostly from Roger’s part, alone time with him could not remain innocent.

“Unless you don’t want to?”, Roger said. “You know I don’t bite”, he smirked and winked at me.

I wouldn’t be too sure about that. I thought as I looked up at him as he was still waiting for a reply.

“No, I-… I’d love to actually”, I stammered and smiled.

“Great!”, he said as he smiled the kind of smile that reached up to his eyes. “Ladies first, of course”.

Yet again, as I walked into the studio before him, I felt his fingers grace the small of my back, inching a little lower than intended, or perhaps it was. Again, the contact lingered a little longer than usual, and it took me all of my willpower not to react to it.

He first led me towards the guitar corner, where I stared in awe at all the different kinds of electric guitars hanging on the wall. “Wow that’s a lot of guitars’, was all I could muster.

Roger grinned. “Most of them are Brian’s, some of them are mine. Be sure not to touch Brian’s guitar’s though, he would not even let his own wife touch them without permission”.

“Roger that”, I smirked and glanced sideways to watch his reaction. The playful smirk he was wearing earlier still played at the corners of his lips, but his eyes had turned in a deeper set of blue. If the atmosphere earlier was somewhat tense, it surely was now. I stood still as he eyed me up and down slowly, not daring to speak, even to breath.

He cleared his throat and turned around as if nothing had happened and led me towards the piano corner, which harbored a grand piano and several sets of keyboards.

“I saved the best for last of course” and led me towards a small booth in the corner of the studio “my drum set”.

“That is one intense-looking drum set”, I exclaimed.

“Intimidated?”, Roger asked, raising his eyebrows in the process.

I let out a small chuckle, “only a little”

“Don’t be. Have you ever played the drums?”

I shook my head. “Can’t say that I have”.

“Want me to teach you?”

I turned around to look at him. He was wearing the same intense expression as earlier but now it seemed to have a double meaning.

I swallowed before nodding my head. “Sure, why not?” Couldn’t hurt right?

He went behind the drum set and sat down before stretching out his hand towards me, which I hesitantly took. His hand engulfed mine completely; it was warm, comforting even and sent a tingle up my arm all the way to my spine.

“So uhmm….. where should I sit?”, I asked softly and gestured to the lack of available seating options behind the drums.

“That’s ok you can sit on my lap”, he replied cheekily and patted his knee.

I gulped and once again I felt the beginnings of a blush creep onto my cheek. The audacity of this man…!

Uhmmm… o-…ok”, I stammered and slowly took my seat upon his lap. To say it was weird was an understatement, but by no means uncomfortable. I was however very aware of his upper body pressed against my back.

“So..’, he said as he handed me a pair of drumsticks. “I’ll handle the bass drum, can you tap the drums on your right twice and then the one on your left only once, can you do that?”.

I nodded and soon enough the familiar beat of ‘We Will Rock You’ filled my ears.

“I know this song!”, I exclaimed a little over-excitedly.

He chuckled, “everyone in the English-speaking world knows this song”. “You’re doing a good job but hit the right drums a little shorter this time, like this”. He slowly took my hands in his and guided my hands along with the drums. At that pointed something changed in the air. I shifted in his lap and he let out a small groan. Almost inaudible because of the sounds of the drums, but I definitely heard it. I was suddenly overly aware of his hardening member pressed against my ass. But that wasn’t all. His body pressed against mine, my hands in his, his breath fanning my cheek, his beard grazing my neck, almost teasingly.

I swallowed deeply, unsure of what to do next. Roger seemed to have an answer ready already. He let go of my hands and the drumsticks clattered onto the floor, yet we both didn’t really care where they landed. One of his arms circled my waist and the other hand rested on my upper thigh, drawing small patterns onto the fabric of my skirt.

My breath hitched when he started pressing small butterfly kisses on my neck, all while bunching up the fabric of my skirt, grazing the soft flesh underneath. Rog… I… You… We shouldn’t… it’s wrong…” I moaned, arching up to him so that he could have better access to my neck. “Wrong?’, he murmured, now moving to suck softly on my earlobe, while his beard scratched the tender skin of my neck. His fingers inched up higher, now grazing the outline of my panties. That’s when I lost it.

“You know I’ve been wanting to get some alone time with you for weeks now”, he said softly as he continued attacking my neck with his kisses, occasionally sucking on the spot too, surely creating marks for the whole world to see.

“You see, you are different from the rest. You don’t treat me like a rockstar, you treat me like a person, a normal human being. You may think you are invisible in here, but every time you come in, you’re the only person I see.”

“Oh, Rog…”, I whispered. I felt myself choking up, feeling the tears threatening to spill. He shifted a little so he could look at me. He brought up his thumb to wipe away the few tears that were about to make their way down my cheek. “You’ve ignited something in me that I thought I had lost long ago.”

“What’s that?”, I whispered back, afraid to say anything else to ruin the moment.

“Comfort, kindness, love, the will to be with someone, actually be with someone. Now tell me… tell me that what you feel right now is wrong, and I’ll stop right away”.

I looked up in his eyes, his bright blue eyes that held so many emotions, that had seen so much love, yet so much pain and realized at that moment that how he felt, mirrored what I was feeling as well. Only instead of telling him, the only thing I could do was show it.

I slid my hand in his neck and brought him closer to me, slowly connecting his lips to mine. It was all I hoped it would be. His lips were soft and gentle against mine and his beard scratching my bottom lip only heightened the feeling. He too didn’t hesitate into deepening the kiss. He softly bit my bottom lip and graced it with his tongue, and I parted my lips just enough so that his tongue could slide into my mouth.

His fingers had now slid my panties aside and were softly rubbing my clit. I moaned into his mouth and ground against his already hard member. He groaned in return, “you’re doing things to me love” he moaned, “do you have any idea how hard you make me. I replied by grinding into him again, earning an even lower groan from him. “I bet you’re all wet for me now, aren’t you?” he mumbled against my neck as he slid two fingers inside my pussy, moving them in and out in a slow pace, curling them, twisting them, driving me to a point of insanity.

“R-…Ro-…Rog, pl-…. please”, I moaned as he continued his assault on both my pussy and my neck.

“What do you need love?”, he whispered softly in my ear, sucking my earlobe in the process.

“More Rog, … I-… I need more”.

But before Roger could make any progress in his line of actions, our time alone was cut short quite abruptly.

“Rog are you done with lunch already so we can…. Oh sorry, did you need some more time?”

I paralyzed at the sound of Brian’s voice and did not know how fast I had to get up from Roger’s lap, straightening my clothes in the process stumbling against one of the cymbals that I could just keep upright. I felt my cheeks heating up with both shame and guilt and didn’t need to look up to see the look on his face.

“Rog…. Emily… care to explain what’s going on?”.

“Humm….”, I started but I couldn’t get any words out. Instead, I was strategically planning my way out. I needed to get out of here.

“So uhmmm, Mr. Taylor, thank you very much for the tour and the drum lessons, much appreciated. I need to go now but uhmmm…. I’ll see you around I guess so uhmm…. Bye”, I mumbled the last bit and turned on my heels and made a beeline for the exit. I needed some air, some time alone to think.

“Emily?!”, Roger called after me. No, Roger, I cannot deal with this right now. Don’t ask me to face this situation right now.

I collided with my boss on the way out, who asked me where I was going. I mumbled an ‘I’m sick’ apology before heading towards my car. I was lucky enough that Roger wasn’t following me. Only after I got in the car I could let my emotions run freely. I leaned back against the chair, my hands were shaking, I felt tears pricking beneath my eyelids and the only sound I could hear was the uncontrolled beating of my heart.

What have I done?

Present day

It had been a week since the day with Roger in the studio and I hadn’t gone back to work since. My boss had called a couple of times this week, asking how I was feeling and when I would get back to work. I told him the same lie every time, that I was feeling slightly better but not good enough to come back to work. I couldn’t tell him the truth. I couldn’t tell him that the only reason I wasn’t coming into work was that I was avoiding Roger and I surely wasn’t going to tell him what happened in the studio. If that ever came out I would definitely lose my job. Plus, I didn’t know how I was going to face Roger again, how I would react, how I would feel. Surely what happened in the studio was an act of lust, but it did stir some deeper feelings from within, feelings I was sure never to have again.

I was pulled from my musings by the ringing of the doorbell. Who could that be?

I got up from the couch and walked over towards the door. However, on the other side of the door stood the one person I was purposely trying to avoid.

“Roger? What are you doing here?”

He smiled sheepishly, running a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable.

“Hi Emily, uhmmm, can we talk?”

I nodded. “Come in.”

I felt his eyes trained on my back as we made our way into the living room. But even when we sat down I couldn’t look him straight in the eyes.

“So, how did you get my address?”, I asked casually.

“Well, actually your boss gave it to me, he was glad someone was finally going to check up on you, probably because he didn’t want to do it himself, but we both know you aren’t really sick, are you?”

For the first time he came into my apartment I looked up at him. He looked at me questioningly, boring his bright blue eyes deep into mine.

I shook my head whilst I looked down to my lap. I started fiddling with the hem of my vest, something I tended to do when I was nervous.”

“Roger, listen I….”

“Can I speak first love? And can you look at me when I do that, please?”

I nodded and brought my eyes to his level again.

“Listen, Emily, I want to apologize for what happened in the studio, you were right, it was selfish and wrong for me to do what I did, and I should never have put you in that position. But I also wanted you to know that what I said to you that day was the truth. You’ve awoken something in me, something I had lost a long time ago, and ever since you came along that feeling has only become stronger.”

I was taken back by both his confession and his apology. I thought he stood by his own actions and wasn’t afraid to act by them. Well, I guess it was wrong.

I bit my lip, unsure of what to say, how to respond.

“Please say something”, Roger pleaded while taking my hands in his.

“I don’t really know what to say, Roger. I did say it was wrong. So wrong. And it shouldn’t have happened. I’m a 37-year old wannabe music producer, you’re a 69-year old celebrated rockstar, and you’re married for Christ’s sake! But…” I trailed off.

“But…?”, Roger questioned, and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“I can’t deny that what happened that day felt so incredibly right. I haven’t felt like that in a long time. And I have only felt it with you, but there are just too many risks, we’re over thirty years apart, you’re married and if the press ever finds out we….”

“Hey”, Roger said softly and started rubbing small circles with his thumbs across the back of my hand, and for a moment I relished the feeling of how good my hands felt in his. “Look at me”

“My marriage has not been what it was for years, sadly it’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when. Secondly, when has age become more than a number and thirdly, when have I ever cared about anything the press says? I like you, Emily. A lot actually, and not seeing you in the studio this week made me realize that. If there is any part of you that feels the same love, you have got to tell me”.

I abruptly pulled my hands from Rogers’ and frantically started pacing through the room. “I do, I do like you Rog, fuck. I like you so much it scares me, but I stand by what I said, I can’t have this jeopardizing your career or mine or your marriage. I cannot handle it, I just can’t.” I walked towards the window and looked down at the street below. I had only realized that it had just begun raining. How fortunate. “I don’t want to be a homewrecker Rog, and I surely don’t want to be someone’s side dish.

I felt Roger’s arms circle my waist and I couldn’t help but lean into his embrace.

You’re not a homewrecker love, never will be, and in whatever is left of my life, I will show to you, you are the one for me”.

I smiled and turned around to face him. “Then let us at least for now have a strictly business relationship, just until we have it all figured out. You may not want it but, I’ll at least have peace of mind”.

“If it’s what you want love, then that’s what we will do”, he said softly.

He brought up his hand and pushed away a few strands from my eyes and then softly let his fingers dance across my cheek. “So beautiful”, he murmured as he grazed my lips with his thumb.

“Kiss me Roger”, I whispered, and he needn’t be told twice.

He used the arm that was around my waist to pull me flush against him, while the other hand knotted itself in my hair.

“Roger”, I moaned, as he nibbled on my lip, asking permission to deepen the kiss. He groaned into my mouth as I parted my lips slightly to give him the access he wanted.

“If I get this all sorted out, will you wait for me?”, Roger whispered against my lips.

“I will always wait for you.”

[metabolismmusic]

Paramore taught me to be my own rockstar.

What was the first artist you were a fan of? Let me try that again. What was the first artist that reached into your chest, pulled on your heart and soul, ripped them out, and fed them back to you? That’s what being a “real fan” is all about, right? How deeply it touches you and leaves you panting for more, drooling at the thought of the next song, the next album, photoshoot, interview, tour. Everything they did, you worshipped. This artist was a religion.

As a teenager, Paramore was as close as I had ever gotten to religion. It ignited a spark I hadn’t realized was simmering in my soul. It wasn’t until I was in my 20s that I fed that flame. Despite this ignition, I still think some fans might scoff at my level of dedication. I mean, I don’t know every single lyric by heart, I missed their last tour, and I don’t have Hayley Williams’ face tattooed on my body. But this was never an artist I bragged about loving. It was a quiet obsession. A few people in my life knew I was a fan and I’d seen a couple of their shows and owned a few t-shirts. Until now, I had no idea why I was internally obsessed. Ten years later, I still harbor that obsession deep in my heart and soul. And it’s taken me about ten years to realize why that is.

It all started with the reality dance competition show, So You Think You Can Dance. I’d watched the show for a few seasons and during every episode became excited by the music featured each week. One episode, in particular, changed my (musical) life forever. It was the Season Four finale episode, where the final four dancers perform a culminating piece together as a group. I still get choked up watching this routine. The entire performance was stunning, but the music grabbed my hand and pulled me along with it. It was a beautiful, driving instrumental song with only string instruments titled “Hallelujah” by the Vitamin String Quartet. After seeking this song out, I found it was actually a cover by VSQ, a group that exclusively covers modern music with classical twists. This connection led me to the original artist: a band called Paramore. As soon as I heard the original, I was hooked. “Hallelujah” will always hold a special place in my heart. The song itself was so different than anything I’d ever heard. This was rock n’ roll religion. It was a spiritual experience I wholly engaged with and subscribed to.

That year, I was 12 and had just entered the public school system. I had been homeschooled up until then and had some friends through extracurriculars. But that year, I realized identity was everything. If you didn’t know who you were, what you wanted, and why, you were one of the other hundreds of fish in the school. Discovering this band, and more specifically Hayley Williams, introduced me to “aspirations.” Until then, I never thought about what other people thought of me or what I wanted to do in the future. Williams was only 14 when she was discovered by Atlantic Records and 16 when Paramore’s first album, All We Know Is Falling, released in 2005. 12-year-old me was transfixed by Williams’ expressive hair colors and fashion sense. I quickly started emulating her style of rock t-shirts and skinny jeans, accessorized by the occasional pair of Hot Topic earings or fingerless gloves. To this day, Paramore’s first album contains some of my favorite songs, but it was the 2007 album Riot! that grabbed me, which features “Hallelujah” and some of their biggest hits. Here I was, being brought to tears by emo pop-punk music. And it felt amazing.

Riot! was an album that cried out everything my angsty, emotional teen-self felt at the time. Williams’ writing was incredibly relatable. She sang of feeling misunderstood, insecure, lustful, and rebellious in a way I could see myself singing clearly to the world around me. This was the first person I could look at and say, “That’s me. That’s what I want to be when I grow up.” Sure, being a rockstar sounded cool, but it was the persona, ownership, and independence of Williams that I adored. To put it in perspective, I spent 10 years mustering the courage to follow in her footsteps and dye my hair a vibrant color as she had for all those years. And why do so many of us fetishize the rockstar persona anyway? Because rockstars don’t give a shit. Their music comes from the darkest and most fragile parts of themselves. They throw themselves at the music and trust-fall into the arms of an audience. We’re being told to avoid these “no good rockstars” who’ll amount to nothing, while at the same time encouraged to embrace the very things they represent. Rockstars bare their souls and embody everything you wish you could be: independent, rebellious, creative, talented, sexy, strong, confident, a go-getter. After discovering Riot!, I dove headfirst into a fantasy where I could be the rockstar of my own life. The music was a place to picture yourself at your peak. I saw myself strong and confident, fearless, expressive, a leader, a pioneer. In what? I have no idea. But my 12-year-old self didn’t care.

Two years later, Paramore released their third album, brand new eyes. I was 14 and had just started high school. This coming-of-age era was the perfect petri dish for self-discovery. This album more than the previous two showcased Williams’ sheer talent. So many tracks featured her breathtaking vocal abilities, something I was supremely jealous of. Paramore was also one of those bands that were consistently on-brand. Their music was undeniably Paramore and had little variation from what they did best. Each song was fresh but familiar. They had the perfect balance of identity and unique expression. Every thought and feeling I had during this time was set to music via these three albums. These three identities made sense: All We Know Is Falling was a discovery of self, with Riot! we were figuring out who we were and how painful it is to be young and confused, and brand new eyes introduced a glorious new vulnerability of identity. The latest album was one step away from the answer to all our problems. And then the band broke up.

I waited four years for their next album, Paramore. This self-titled piece was the answer. I was now a freshman in college and this album said: this is you, you’re nearly there, kid. This new album charged forward with me into new territory and even more discovery. Paramore felt like the moment where you realize you can just be. I spent my next four years of college contemplating this new identity. But there were still people telling me what to do and how to be. The theme of this era - and this album - were: I am small but I matter. I am tiny but mighty. I spent four years at a college I hated, with a useless major, and a dead-end relationship. I also spent those four years convincing myself I’d get over it. I didn’t. A long, drawn-out breakup and dramatic family matters changed everything, and I found myself rediscovering Paramore. Like a time capsule, it took me back to a place where anything was possible and “everything would be okay.” But it wasn’t okay. Nothing felt like it could go right: my family was broken, my secure relationship was over, many of my best friends were moving, and I myself had to move out of my apartment in a few short months. Then, right when it seemed hopeless, Paramore reached out and took me by the hand and said, “We’re not done yet.”

My self-proclaimed tragic timeline was as follows: February, break off my relationship; March, find out my best friends are moving; April, sexually assaulted; May, my mother has a mental health crisis, I graduate college with no prospect, and friends and lovers move away. But in May 2017, Paramore released After Laughter. After four years, Paramore had transformed. Their music had gone from hard-hitting and badass to sophisticated, new wave, pop rock. I was taken aback at first. I knew I liked the album, but, like most fans, felt betrayed. How could they change? And sound nothing like the “old Paramore”? There were certain tracks, however, that tugged at my heartstrings and made me feel something, although I had no idea what. But I had to trust the artist; they’d never let me down before.

I could still point to this band and say, “That’s me.” Every new phase and turning point of my life until that point, each new era, had been defined by this band. They had released new music, their own era, during each of these points. Riot! became my new-teen anthem, brand new eyes rocked me through high school, Paramore pushed me through college, and finally, After Laughter was wrapping up my young adult life with a syncopated change in identity.

Since 2017, I have moved on literally and figuratively. I live someplace else, with someone I love, and miss my friends and family terribly. After an unexplained hiatus, I turned to Paramore once more. I’ve developed new struggles and challenges in life. After listening to Paramore regularly again, their music made me feel badass and confident, just as I had always hoped I’d feel when I was a teenager. At some point, I became more curious about what they’d been up to and caught up with some interviews and articles over the last couple of years. It was then I learned that Williams considered After Laughter a companion piece to her struggles with her own family and depression. I found myself listening to this album constantly. The music helped me reflect and consider the reality of my condition. It felt like someone was there saying, “Hey, it’s awesome that you feel badass sometimes, but we all have problems. I hear you and know you can face them fearlessly. You need to trust that feeling.”

[hazedazethestealthhero]

This is About Two Burning Stars in The Galaxy

I know I'm not perfect and I have problems. Especially in the department of communication. Meaning, sometimes what I've said in my head doesn't come out the way that I've intended. Sometimes I catch it and I try to immediately correct or clarify. Sometimes I do not catch it and it ends ups hurting those I care deeply about. I know. I'm working on it. I think I've come a long way considering I used to not be able to even comprehend what my feelings were or how to properly identify them or convey them. But I also know that I can't always use that as a crutch, I've been trying not to.

My best friend since the sixth grade. How old even was I? Probably about 11? I'm 24 now. So roughly 13 years of a solid and full friendship with both ups and downs. She is my Moon and Stars. My Soulmate. My Other Half. I even share a mark with her. Our beautiful Best Friend Tattoo that we got when we were about 20.

When I say we've had ups and downs, I mean we shared those moments. There were two times in our lives that we even lived together because our families were so far deep in the hole of poverty and negativity. To where our families depended on each other and in a way, we were able to help our families via our friendship but also help each other get past those rough times. We fought those battles together. Side by side. Dare I say we came out stronger.

There was a time in our friendship to where we didn't talk for about a year. It started towards the end of our senior year of high school until sometime in the middle of my freshman year of college. I don't even quite remember what had transpired during that year or even really remember why we had stopped talking to each other during that time. I think it was just because, for a period of time, we were walking on our own paths.

Eventually though, fate brought us back together. Things were a little different but for me, I think I was just suprised at how awesome my best friend really was. She was working multiple jobs to pay and support her mom, her mom's boyfriend, and her two younger sisters. I've always envied her courage and resilience. She's wonderfully fierce and strong. A literal ray of Hope. The Weapon of choice for an Archangel.

We reconnected and once again our friendship was able to grow and rebloom. Things were a bit different though. We both were seeing toxic romantic partners, and through another battle we fought together yet at the same time, separately. We've always fought side by side, even in separate wars.

After I had left my Ex and graduated college, my best friend asked me if I would move in with her. A literal dream come true. To share and create a home with her. The kind of home we always wished we had growing up. The kind we swore we would make together when we got older. It was finally becoming a reality. Though, we were still a bit financially strained, I managed to move out of my home and away from my mom who I was holding a lot of anger towards due to previous events and my best friend was leaving an extremely toxic relationship that I feared would turn leathal, we made it.

We made it into our new home together with the help of our mutual and beloved friend. The Three Amigos were back. We met our friend during our sophomore year together. Though we all had our own falling out, fate had brought us back together.

In our first year of living together, so much happened. I left my shitty, toxic job, we ended up getting my best friends sisters from Kentucky and bringing them home, dealing with the disaster that is our mothers, and typical ups and downs that occur when you've squeezed 5 people, 3 cats, and a bird into a 2 bedroom and a loft home. But we made it work. Sure it only started off as 3 people, one cat, and a bird, but what can you do when the universe throws in a few curve balls?

We said that we could do it together. Like we've always had. To always be there to catch when the other falls.

But things haven't been good these past couple weeks. I know logically it is because of a LOT of factors: cramped, quarantine meaning kids are home 24/7, working from home/taking a leave of absence as to stay safe, etc. These factors create tension and hostility. I've caught myself a couple times acting hostile towards my family. But we've tried to be understanding and at least try to talk and communicate later. To try to understand each other better as to not make the same mistakes in the future.

But I feel like we keep tripping up and that we are caught in a negative feedback loop. I don't really know how to get out of it but I'm looking in the mirror and at my Other Half and I'm only seeing our mothers lately. It's a horrific feeling. To snap back to reality and say "Did I really just say or do that to her?" I feel like we've both had those moments. And not just to each other.

Now we are faced with not only tension being created in our home, but on the outside world as well. I partially believe that that is only adding fuel to the fire in my family's predicament. My best friend has always been a go getter while I've always been the more on the side lines and observe for a while kind of person.

She's calling this The Revolution. She is genuinely concerned for the wellbeing of all and her friends. She's really trying to gather up individuals to stand together and make a difference. I admire her for that. I am baffled by her passion and she has such a way of bringing people together.

However, our viewpoints slightly differ but overall, we both wish to achieve the same thing. I truely think we are meant to take our own paths, because at the end of the day we want to create a better world for our fellow human beings and for the future. Even though our paths differ, they will both lead to the same field where the defining battle will be fought.

I know I've upset her because I appear to be less enthusiastic or that I'm too standoffish or neutral about the Revolution. I've tried conveying this and had thought we had come to an understanding that we support each other's methods and respect the slight difference in opinion.

I'm going to backtrack for a moment, before the Revolution really started. During our rough couple weeks of snapping at each other and continuously hurting each other's feelings, I wrote a letter. Stating that I would not be resigning the lease and that I thought it best for our relationship and ourselves respectively to not live together for a while. I don't know if she read the letter for sure. It hasn't been brought up.

Then the Revolution begins and now combine all of the Pandemic, Revolution, Tension, and (most likely not taken as good) news of me moving out. We have a shit storm of emotions, hardly any of them positive.

Today didn't start off on the right foot. My best friend had made a statement and my response did not have a great starting point. Once again, I've goofed with my words and execution. She looked at me with what I could only describe as disgust and "you need to fuck off" kind of look. I knew before I had even gotten that look that I had fucked up. I also know "sorry" doesn't erase things but I sent her a message stating that I was sorry and I hadn't meant for it to come out like that or to hurt her feelings. We kind of starting talking about our disagreement some more and I feel as though I still wasn't conveying properly what I had meant and I wasn't sure how to tell her that. But towards the end I thought it was mostly patched up or at the very least acknowledged that we may not be on even ground but we are at least holding our footing in our relationship.

It was a very hot day and towards the end I asked the kids to gather everyone up and we could make a quick run to the gas station for cold water because our tap water freaks everyone out a bit. My best friend offers to come with and states that maybe it should just be her and I, to be a bit more cautious about all the violence and not involving the kids. Great. Wonderful idea.

This event took less than 20 minutes.

We get in the car and I know right off the bat, it is not looking good. Feeling choked and overwhelmed by the tension, I hadn't realized how mistaken I was. A fool, really.

She kept her head turned out the window and hummed until we get to the gas station. She gets out the car and moves as if she walks alone. I move quickly to catch up. She walks over to the water section and grabs two jugs. And I ask her "How many should we get?"

As I ask, she walks past me, barely casting me a glance and says in that awful tone "However many you're buying." I felt as if she were insinuating that I expected her to pay with the Link card. I was not. But I was not expecting the menacing chills that her words left. It stunned me really. And I thought "I deserved that. I'm sure that's how I made her feel earlier today."

We are standing in line but she is standing in front of me. I'm feeling like I'm miles away but I'm barely 5 feet apart. It's our turn in line. She walks up to the counter, sets the jugs down, and walks away. Without a glance back. My blood is running cold now. But I tell myself to just get the water and go back home, it's fine. I get up to the counter to pay but my card keeps declining. I don't know why. I'm panicking. I'm panicking because I can't even buy 5 dollars worth of water for my family. I'm panicking because now there are people behind me. I'm panicking because my biggest fear of all just became a reality.

You walked away.

And you didn't even look back.

The person I chose to get a matching mark with to embody and show the world that we are one. My partner in crime. My Ride or Die. My Best Friend.

Is that how it really ends? Just like that?

I put the water away and I go back to the car and I'm trying to tell her that my card declined and I didn't know why. Hoping to get a response. To have her talk to me.

"That really sucks bro."

Yeah.

It really does suck.

Next