#and why she didn't name the man she described as a 'very well known public figure'

[queer-geordie-nerd]

If any society as a whole really cared about uplifting and supporting rape survivors as much as we like to pretend we do, or even half as much as we like to make excuses for abusers and rapists, perhaps women wouldn't feel the need to keep the abhorrent crimes perpetrated against them to themselves for years for fear of being re-traumatised by the legal system and the court of public opinion.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

You Made A Mess Of Me

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: mentions of sexual activities, angst, but happy ending. I actually love this sm I'm in my Lewis era and I can't stop myself

The penultimate weekend in June meant only one thing, the Spanish GP. You've been thinking for days whether you should go, after all, too much time has passed since the last time.

You knew that your coming there would cause a huge public reaction and that some people might not be happy to see you, but you couldn't resist. Your curiosity was stronger than you and something you could never fight against.

The last time you attended the GP, you were in a slightly different role than you were now, some would say more important role. That was 2 years ago when you were reputed to be the most popular wag in the paddock. Lewis Hamilton's girlfriend. His greatest support and the woman who he dedicated every victory to.

To Lewis, you were the woman he loved more than life, his everything and more. He proudly presented you to everyone, always mentioned you in interviews, saying that you were his strength and motivation for all his success. When you couldn't attend his races, he was always in a hurry to come back to you, holding you like a drop of water in the palm of his hand.

His love for you could not be described in words. You were the "it couple". Lewis made it well known to everyone that you were his. He really was madly in love with you.

You loved him too. He taught you what love means, he taught you how to love, showed you what love really is. You felt safe next to him and you knew that with him you had everything a woman could want. When you cheered him on at the races, you were the loudest, his most faithful cheerleader who experienced every victory and every defeat together with him.

Everything was perfect until one day when Lewis started hinting that he wanted to take your relationship one step further. Given that you were 25 at the time and he was 37, you knew that he was at the age when he wanted a family and children and he let you know that he wanted that with you.

You panicked, inexplicable anxiety gripped you, you weren't ready to "grow up" completely. You loved him very much, but you also loved yourself and that's why you didn't wanna settle for something you weren't ready for.

You felt that you still wanted to develop yourself as a person before marrying someone, you still wanted to travel with your friends, have fun, enjoy life and youth. You knew you didn't want marriage then, but you also didn't want to make Lewis wait for you and suffer in some way. You wanted him to be happy and achieve everything he wanted, even if it wasn't with you.

And so your perfect three-year relationship came to an end. You moved to Spain, disappeared from Lewis's life overnight and he never heard from you again. Despite his best efforts to reach you and find you, he couldn't. You left him completely heartbroken, desperate, lost, he just wasn't the man he used to be. His world has changed since you left his life.

Later, all the pain and hurt he carried inside him turned into immense anger and rage towards you. You even thought he started to hate you. You knew about it because you heard that in one interview he said, when he was asked about y/n, that that name no longer exists for him.

That's why now that you were invited by Tommy Hilfiger as a special guest to the Spanish GP, you doubted whether it was wise to go.

You didn't really care about the public's reaction, but you were a little afraid of Lewis's reaction. You were afraid to see the contempt in his eyes for you. But still, above all, you were a determined, smart and self-confident girl who knew her values ​​and knew what she wanted. And that's why you accepted the invitation.

Everyone's jaws dropped to the floor when you stepped into the paddock wearing black sunglasses in a tight strapless black dress that perfectly accentuated your curves. You caught everyone's eyes.

As well as the eyes of a man who could not forget you.

"Lewis, I don't wanna upset you before the race, but..she's here." Bono said quietly.

"Who is here?" He asked cluelessly with furrowed eyebrows.

"I-I.." Bono stammered.

"Bono, who is here?"

"Y/n..She's in George's garage."

Lewis froze. His heart dropped and legs buckled when Bono said your name. He thought someone was playing a joke on him, so after a minute of standing still without blinking and the initial shock, he had to go see for himself what he heard.

"Lewis, I don't think it's a good idea to-" Bono tried to stop him, but there was no point in trying to do that. Lewis didn't think for a second, he just sprinted towards his teammate's garage, his racing suit half unbuttoned hanging behind him. He had to see you with his own eyes to believe that you were actually there.

The moment he ran into the garage and saw you there, at first he couldn't believe his eyes, but when you took off your glasses and looked at him, everything came back to him in a second, all the memories, but also the anger.

Your legs went numb as well, your heart fluttered, but you didn't dare to approach him or say anything. The whole room fell silent as the two of you looked at each other. Everyone knew about the two of you and there was an awkward silence that was broken by Lewis himself when he left after half a minute of standing still.

It was minutes before Lewis was supposed to get into the car and he barely recovered from seeing you. He couldn't think straight, and the race was about to start. You here, was the last thing he needed.

At first he couldn't focus, all he thought about was you, but somehow he managed to shift his thoughts to the anger and rage he felt towards you and it woke up that beast in him that he was on the track and after a long long time Lewis finished as the winner of the race. And all thanks to you, although not because he was happy that you were there, but because he decided to take out his anger on the track.

You followed the race with folded hands hoping for the best result from Lewis and when you saw that he finished P1, you didn't show it too much, but there was no an end to your happiness. Your eyes watered and you proudly watched him celebrate. For a moment everything was like before, only in reality, nothing was like before.

In the evening you decided to go out with your friends and of course there were also F1 drivers in that same club, among them Lewis of course, who were celebrating his victory.

You wanted to, but you didn't approach him. You decided to have fun with your friends, you danced and basically acted like he wasn't even there even though you could feel his eyes on you the whole night following who was around you. And since this was Lewis' night he had too much to drink and decided to approach you himself the first moment he saw you headed for the toilet.

Before you stepped into the toilet, you felt a strong grip on your arm pulling you out. You turned around only to see Lewis' bloodshot eyes staring at you.

"Lewis? W-what are you doing?" You stammered.

"You better go outside with me if you don't want me to make a scene here in front of everyone." He said sternly through clenched teeth and that's why you decided not to resist. Attracting bad attention was the last thing you needed.

Of course all eyes were on the two of you as Lewis dragged you out of the club, you just couldn't avoid it. Once you stepped out he took you to the place behind the club where there were the fewest people.

"Did you come today to mess with my head or what?" He spat out.

"I was there on business, not because I wanted to" You half lied.

"Please" He scoffed. "How dare you show up after two years and just before the start of the race? How dare you play with my head like that?" He asked what you were most afraid of before coming.

You gulped before starting a sentence, but he cut you off "I-"

"You fucking put me through hell and back when you left and then one day you just decided to come as a guest out of nowhere?"

"Lewis, I-"

"And then you went out knowing that I'll be there, and you decide to dance and have fun with other guys in front of me as if I wasn't there? You have no fucking shame!" He growled. You understood his anger and it hurt you, it almost made you cry, but you knew this was the alcohol in his system talking.

"As far as I remember, we have not been together for two years" You say fighting to keep your voice from cracking.

"Oh yeah, and about that. Do you feel good knowing that you killed me when you left?" He asks. "You fucking disappeared for your own selfish reasons. Do you know what you did to me when you left my life? You fucking ruined me, y/n!" He screamed in your face and it hurt like hell. "How could you do that to me? I was ready to give you everything, I would've taken the stars out of the sky if you had asked me to, and you did what? You fucking left!"

"I am very well aware of what I did and why. You have no idea how hard it was for me to make that decision, but I wasn't ready to give you what you wanted."

"Yeah, you weren't ready because you still wanted to fuck other guys right?" He insulted, but you couldn't let him talk like that about you because that was far from the truth.

"Don't talk to me like that!" You threatened.

"And why not? Because the truth hurts you? Do you even realize that you were everything to me? I was ready to give it all for you, fuck, I lived for you, y/n! We had a perfect relationship, the kind of that many dreamed of and you ruined it all!"

"I knew what you wanted and I wasn't ready to give you that, Lewis! I was too young and I didn't want to make you wait because I saw in your eyes how much you wanted it!" You couldn't take it anymore. You broke into tears right in front of him. "I didn't leave because I stopped loving you, but quite the opposite because I loved you too much to deny you what you want"

"But I wanted it with you, fuck!!" He screamed clutching his head. "If you weren't ready then, I would have waited for you because I didn't want a family with anyone but you! But you didn't even let me explain it to you because you disappeared from the face of the earth!" He spoke breathlessly.

"I'm sorry..I don't know what else to tell you. Hurting you was the worst thing I could do, I realize that." You cried.

He stepped closer to you and put his cupped your cheeks. "I fucking lived for you, y/n, and you made me a mess of a man" He almost sobbed.

"I suffered too, don't think I didn't. Leaving you was the hardest decision I ever had to make."

"And yet you still did. Getting over you was by far the hardest thing ever. I'm Lewis fucking Hamilton. It's not in my mentality to break down over someone that much and let it completely take over my life and yet you managed to do that to me" He allowed his emotions to overwhelm him and now he was crying too while leaning his forehead against yours. "Please, leave. I don't ever wanna see you again."

His words broke you all over again although you could've expected it, somehow you hoped it wouldn't come to that. He released you from his grip, wiped his tears, composed himself and walked back to the club leaving you outside completely broken and in tears.

You had no choice but to go to the hotel where you were staying at. You didn't feel like having fun or anything anymore, you just wanted to get away from everything and cry your heart out in the silence of your room.

You cried quietly in the taxi all the way to the hotel then you continued in your room. It was already 3 in the morning when you found the strength to take off your makeup and lie down in bed.

All you could think about was did you really make such a mistake by leaving Lewis? You knew you hurt him, but you had no idea to what extent. You lay down in bed and prayed to God to take all your pain away because it was unbearable. The fact that it was your fault hurt even more.

After you left and Lewis returned to the club, he continued to drink and think of you. He knew you left crying and despite everything you did, knowing you were in pain made him hurt even more.

Lewis being Lewis, he found his sources and forced them to tell him which hotel you were staying at. He couldn't help himself, he needed to see you. After all, you were the love of his life. He knew there was no one else for him except for you and that's why he headed towards your hotel and after many threats at the reception he finally got your room number.

You weren't sleeping, you were lying and looking at the ceiling when you heard knocking on your door. At first you were scared, but approached the door anyway asking who it was.

"It's me. Open the door." Lewis said leaning his forehead against the door.

You opened the door not expecting him at all. You couldn't believe he was right there in front of you. You didn't know how he got to you, but at that moment you didn't even care. All you cared about was that he was there.

"Lewis?" You asked quietly as you opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

"To be completely honest, I have no fucking idea." He spoke. "I knew you left crying, and even though you didn't deserve it, I couldn't take it." He stepped in closing the door behind him. You smiled softly through your tears and he moved closer until your back touched the wall behind you.

"I'm here because I still can't wrap my head around the fact that you're not mine" He said.

"If only you knew how much I'm still yours, Lewis"

"Well, unfortunately I don't know, because you haven't done anything for two years to show me that" He slurred putting your cheeks between his hands once again. "But I do know that you're gonna be the death of me" You squeezed your eyes shut at his words.

"Tell me if you have ever found someone who loved you more than me?" He asked.

"I haven't.." There was no point in lying to him. "I wasn't even looking for someone"

"Yeah you didn't and you know why? Because that's not fucking possible." He stated. "Nor have I found anyone who made me feel the things I felt with you. Remember how I always used to hold you close to me while I was fucking you? How I made you look me in the eyes when you were about to cum? How I used to hug your shaking body and press my head against your chest to feel your heartbeat? Do you?"

"I do." You nodded squeezing your thighs a little. Even though you were hurting you couldn't help but get turned on by the things he was saying. Your relationship was full of passion and the sex was the best you ever had. You missed it, you have to admit.

"I can't even call it fucking because I was making love to you." His lips were only inches away from yours and all your attention was focused on them. Your eyes begged him to kiss you.

"I thought I was over you and I could live without you, but then you came back into my life and you messed with my mind once again. You can't do that shit anymore, y/n" He said moving his hands from your face down to your hips tightly gripping them.

"You don't have to live without me anymore because I swear I'm ready to give you everything I couldn't before." You say wrapping your arms around his neck. "I was so wrong, Lew. I miss you. I miss your touch, I miss what we had"

He didn't say anything but finally connected his lips with yours. He kissed you so passionately, so eagerly it brought life back to both of you. He gripped your butt and made you jump up wrapping your arms around his torso. Without breaking the kiss he led you towards the bed gently lying you down, him being on top of you.

"Please, don't make me regret this" He said exhaling in short breaths.

"I'm yours, baby. I've always been." You said breathlessly. "It’s just the two of us I promise..”

[sgiandubh]

Why are you so angry toward Tony? Why do you call him names? If you honestly believe Sam and Cait are together, Tony is a non-issue. The only reason to be offended is if you want Sam and Cait to together, but you know she is with Tony, abd you feel he is between them. Your anger and rudeness the man shows you know the truth of their marriage, family and your bitterness she didn't choose Sam as a mate.

Dear Calling Names Anon,

I am not the one being angry, here: you are. You are so angry, in fact, that in your haste to hopefully bash me, you typed 'abd' instead of 'and' (also because you are on your phone) and you ate both a verb (if you want Sam and Cait to be together) and a preposition ( 'anger and rudeness towards the man'). Both lapsus calami (that's 'slip of the pen', for you) are very telling - mais, passons (that's French, for you: I know it pisses you off and I am so glad it does, every single time!).

I have read so many times the glorious POS you dutifully copied and pasted in that Anon box, that this time I knew I had to answer you, once and for all. You and the one who wrote this down first and then you all dutifully followed - no critical skills and never did have any.

I am not angry toward McIdiot. I am derisive and dismissive of the very lucrative part he agreed to play in that 🎪. As is, he is still a social zero and nowhere to be seen, unless she brings him along, but only at events where she knows virtually no one. No matter how hard you try to present him in an extravagant light, his real situation is well known, based on public records. Conversely, you are angry and contemptuous towards S, who has his own businesses and takes risks and makes a thousand mistakes. But who, unlike your hero here, is alive. McIdiot, that character paraded in front of us, comes across as a profiteer. Maybe McGill is a nice person. Maybe he is friends with C. McIdiot, the part he's been given in this shitshow, is anything but nice, interesting or attractive.

I call him McIdiot, that is true. You lie all day long about S, spreading lies and calumnies and innuendoes that cost him a LOT in the past. What you did had consequences IRL. Yes, you and your little harmless coterie, including its 455 Twitter and Tumblr sock accounts. You knowingly hurt someone who did absolutely nothing to you and 'rude' doesn't even start to describe your reckless attitude. What moral right have you to come here and give me lessons? That's rich, coming from people who repeatedly called me a liar, an idiot, assured their flock I was several other persons. Same people who, overall, take a sick, cheap pleasure of calling shippers either 'worms' or 'the mental ward'. So what the hell did you expect, coming here? A fucking welcoming committee? A potluck of revelations?

I do not want S&C to be together. I know S&C are together. You know it, too: otherwise you wouldn't be here screeching like a maniac in front of a closed door. You then proceed to assume knowing what I think and lecture me about what I should be thinking, instead: a very poor rhetorical strategy, indeed and a sure sign of confusion. For your information, McIdiot's absurdity will always be an issue, irrespective of their real status. And you are correct: I know a fairly consistent part of the truth about her 'family' and 'marriage'. What irks you is that I chose not to discuss many things I know in here and certainly not with you. You see, I have a personal policy, Anon: I don't share secrets with cowards. Ever.

You make me think of these harmless fools standing in the rain in Hyde Park's Speakers' Corner, who preach the imminent end of the world in front of an empty alley, Anon. Better go home: maybe Moo will make you a cuppa, once you get there.

http://www.cgpgrey.com, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

[horizon-verizon]

So I didn't watch the episode and have gotten wind that Hugh is Saera's son in HotD but that he doesn't describe her as the very successful & well known brothel owner and proprietor that she canonically was. Which is weird bc even if he left before she really took off, there's no other indication in HotD thus far that she is still one of many, more vulnerable brothel sex workers of Planetos who must give up a portion of their wages according to the owner's style or will. Hugh's knowledge of Saera is the only knowledge thus far for the locals and non bk readers, so the first "public" perception & understanding of Saera is through this man "ashamed" to have been her son he seemingly never came to terms with. And her being a SW appears as if it is a leading reason (aside from some others not reveled) why he left Volantis for KL.

She exists to characterize Hugh and it's done with focus on her sexual "deviance" in like with Alyssa's being used in a deviant sexual dream forced on Daemon. It's not her being used to characterize Hugh that bothers me but their way of doing it is to leave it as sexual shame of female sexuality through the stigma of sex work when there was much more to Saera. Similar to how there were more & better storylines from Alyssa to use for Daemon's "redemption" arc.

Yes, I've seen the tweets and comments about the karma of Saera's son being the one to bond with Jahaerys' dragon. How this reconnects the two through a bastard (a "result" of Saera not acting as a "proper", sexually limited and "chaste" woman-girl) as well as adds an interesting layer to Hugh's eventual betrayal (as one of Jaehaerys' chief anxieties and issues against Saera was the distribution and availability of dragons--in her escape from his forcing her into septahood, she tried to get to Balerion it is said and he saw this as her "stealing"). And that anxiety has been evident in F&B since Elissa Farman stealing what would become Dany's 3 dragon eggs. His fear being that there would be new dragonlords popping up that not only would/could endanger the world (he specifically said they didn't need another Old Valyria) but would rival the Targaryens and his own authority/grasp on power. These are all actually very good points, and yeah, this is one example of HotD's better writing and storytelling.

However, going back to Hugh saying Saera was just like "regular" sex workers who have to answer to higher authorities and were more vulnerable to many sorts of parties (clients, abusive and greedy brothel managers & owners, other citizens/subjects bc of the stigma against SW, etc.) -> again, Saera eventually became a brothel owner and very well respected/known. With seemingly a lot of influence in Essos as well as a great name in Westeros even infamously--she wasn't a nobody anywhere, is what I ]'m saying and HotD makes it seem as if she kinda is when she's filtered through only her ashamed son as being like less autonomous-authoritative sex workers. It doesn't matter that she was at one point that and she "spoiled" herself (which no, she didn't); even she was asked atp whether she'd take the throne or ascend, to which she declined AND I speak to how HotD is allergic to female authority figures--which even if she had more power in Essos, she's still a figure of authority nonetheless--acting like authority figures without self-effacing themselves (Rhaenyra) or being totally un-self aware and insufferable (Alicent) to make them a false idea of "decent".

So unless the show will give us some sort of context of smallfolk not knowing of her life aside from "she disappeared" or that her later life was only recorded and disseminated in books they don't have access to thus Hugh never found out what was up w/her later life, it's very easy to make as if either she was always a "lower" SW OR Hugh simply decided that it didn't matter what she was other than she was a SW. Which would tell us a lot about his character, his values, clue us in one the trajectory of his story in a curiosity-peaked sort of way & thus add some nuance both to him and to her. And she had other sons who showed up to the GC of 101 [look back to 1x01, where they are tallying up votes for the next ruler b/t Rhaenys and Viserys]...

Wouldn't news of these sons spread throughout KL, so how could Hugh not know of these sons who quite obviously brought so much evidence of their wealth that could very well have at first come from their shared mother? Or do these sons just not exist in the HotD universe? Without these questions answered, it seems they are just doing themselves a disservice when they have the opportunityt to make their world more "believeable" and "lived-in". Like it'd breathe so much more life than a mere mention of Saera's later life, but even the mere mention from any more unbiased source would add a regard toward the lore than currently.

Again, again, again, he is thus far the only source the show gives us as to her fate.

If it turns out that she never managed to be an owner and proprietor in the HotD universe, then this is pretty reductive just as how they portrayed Alyssa to be.

Alyssa was reduced through sex/a sexual depiction/interaction into being a device for Daemon's arc of self development when they had him eat her out in a dream, and that could have been literally anything else: Alyssa taking him out on his first ever dragon ride as an infant; him watching her die slowly from childbirth but still interacting; her at the training yard and trying to get her brother/his father's attentions as a child; her dumping the wind on their brother Vaegon's head as a child when he denigrated Daella's intelligence [Daella, the grandmother of Rhaenyra, which thus could have brought another layer or reminder of his and Rhaenyra's need for unity and their already-there connection, how he needs to step up more for her and in a less "oppressive" way since the writers want to claim being more "feminist" even though I still think Daemon's entire Harrenhal arc is an unfair and illogical illustration of him and his capabilities/role in Rhaenyra's life/claim]; etc.

This was local's first intro into her & any connections she has to any--yes, Daemon esp--living or recent Targ they know of. And she is made into a participant of incest the Targs do not practice to show to Daemon he's being way too self absorbed looking for any sort of family who believes in him instead of reigning in his most dramatic urges? Once again, why is it okay for Alyssa to be in that compromising position if she has to be a device for this specific arc? You can't express anything that concerns family, Targs, and women without it sexually objectifying or inflicting worse or noncanonical violence against women?! Is this not what happened with the Alicent-Larys foot scene & making Alicent Viserys' rape victim? Dameon killing Rhea when he categorically DIDN't in canon?

With Saera, yes, you can argue they didn't have time to flesh her out and thus opted for a quick confirmation of her being Hugh's mother...the execution of the news leaves much to be desired.

The framing of the news and how it defines later possible depictions...bc you know that if she is brought up or described later, HotD fans are going to bring up HotD to try to "explain" her. Even her bk character. And--once more, IF HotD doesn't elaborate and use her bk!characterization--which is highly unlikely as she's served her purpose & this show is hefty with the male gaze--HUGH's either uninformed or outright reductive outlook will be the prime/only source for her life and how she fared outside of Jaehaerys' and Westerosi sexism's influence.

Instead of giving us three separate scenes of Alicent's "psychological journey" that really just went back to square one (I do watch the trailers for the episodes) as:

in the trailer for epi 8 of this season, she still presses Aemond to not fight the blacks "like this" or with indiscriminate violence....she has already done this! Allt this really does is show how "helpless" she's become. That's all her "spiritual" arc--or whatever her stans call it, esp the tradcaths and tradwives--epiphany tour amounts to. How full of regret she is in and how viewers have to sympathize with her bc "she didn't know".

it really doesn't matter if she came to Jesus bc things have been out of her power for years before the usurpation and she still enabled the war to happen through her lack of basic observation (yes, yes, she grew up in a very conservative Catholic-esque medieval church setting, that doesn't give her the right to escape accountability for abusing the power she did have over Rhaenyra in court)

nothing will change as for plot points...Aemond will continue to ignore her pleas for less violence unless he thinks whatever plans she cooks up will be more strategic than whatever he plans...bc this has never been Aemond's concern and she herself fostered it into him and all his siblings all their lives that Rhaenyra must be defeated/not become Queen....from what we have seen in HotD, "peace" has never been companion to that goal before 1x08..so...

Why are we focusing so much on Hugh's arc when he was a rapist and in the show also reduces his own mother?

This is all IF they don't at least also mention that she became a renowned proprietor. Just bc one "sold" their body to survive and continued to make money off of it, doesn't mean that there is significance in how she managed to survive and thrive apart from the desires of the social paradigms she was born into. Or that SW defines the entire worth of a human being.

[pinkplantmakesstuff]

[Sat opposite me is none other then The Commander himself. We are in my office; surrounded by stacks of notebooks and stationary, this is no battlefield and it's clear The Commander is currently out of his depth.

I will admit I was shocked when he agreed to an interview; the Commander is infamously secretive about his private life and personal affairs, and there are terrible rumours about his foul temper and monstrous appearance. Sat opposite me however, is a young, world-weary man]

Exclusive interview continues under the Read More...

Let's start with some introductory questions, can you introduce yourself?

[There's a pause before he finally speaks, he's surprisingly soft spoken.] My name's Alec. [He looks at me, and I have to prompt him for more] Oh I see. Uh people refer to me as the Commander, but I'm, not really? I don't, well I don't belong to the Pact anymore? But apparently the title stuck. And I just, end up helpin' with stuff still. [He shifts uncomfortably, and I need to know what brought him to my office today, why he's changed his mind before I continue with the more personal questions.]

So, Commander, what's changed? Why an interview now? After refusing to talk to any journalists for so long, what caused this change of heart?

[There's a another long pause.] Well, I mean...a couple of people told me it might be...good for appearances, to you know talk to one of you people, instead of just... lettin' everyone make stuff up about me all the time. [I assume he means the rumours that make up most of his public perception - like the idea his mouth is full of flesh-tearing fangs- which I can now confirm to be false. He may have pointed fangs but they are small, and he seems more interested in gnawing at his own lip.] Oh, uh and you can just call me Alec I guess.

Well thank you for choosing to speak to me Comman-Alec, now lets move onto the more personal stuff; what is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status?

[This seems to catch him off guard.] That, that is kind of, personal. [He grimaces and draws his arm tightly across his chest. "You said you didn't want people to make stuff up about you anymore, why don't you tell people so they know the real you."] I, well, ok. [He gives a defeated sigh but it seems I've swayed him around for now at least] Uh I'm a guy and I like other men. And, uh, there, might be someone. He's...[Alec mulls over his words for a minute, the "fearsome" fangs nibbling at his own mouth again] well he's like, there's a connection? It's hard to explain. ["You've just disappointed many potential suitors I suspect!" At this he lets out a surprised laugh, as if he can't believe what I said. "Is this potential someone your fearsome companion you've been rumoured to be spotted with? With fangs and horns even greater then your own?" At this he frowns, folding his arm in again.] He's not fearsome he's just, well he's great. [I've clearly struck a nerve so I choose to move on.]

Where and when were you born?

[Another one-armed shrug.] Dunno. Some small place. Don't remember it, don't care. And uh, I'm like, well I think I'm twenty? Something like that I don't know my birthday. I think it's in Winter. [At this it was mine turn to let out an incredulous laugh - which I admit was unprofessional of me. "I knew you seemed young but, only twenty? That's, you've done a lot for someone so young." There's another, lengthier pause.] S'pose so. [He doesn't comment on this further.]

Here's something you should know plenty about! What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

[He narrows his eyes at me, and then tilts his head thoughtfully. For a moment I thought he was going to demonstrate his magical capabilities I've heard so much about but then he simply shakes his head, a if deciding against it.] Magic. People don't like it. ["Yes I've heard the rumours of your powerful necromancy, as well as the tales of you being able to transform-" He cuts me off] I fight with magic. [Again I've struck another nerve, but I don't blame him. The rumour-mill has been particularly unkind to this young man, and it's no secret how many people view darker aspects of magic unfavourably.]

Lastly, for these introduction questions, are you happy?

[We sit there in silence for several minutes, and it seems he has no answer for me. I decide to move on quickly.]

Let's move onto the people in your life! What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

Uh, I don't. Well my family is, well she's a baker. We grew up together. And V-my... partner? [He catches himself, clearly trying to protect keep them anonymous.] I don't have any other family I guess. But, I'd do anythin' to keep them safe. [I don't push further but it's clear the Commander's family means as much to him as the next person. Something the rumours have lead people to believe is not the case.]

Have you ever ran away from home?

Yeah. When I was a kid. My friend - the baker. We left together. it was better after that. [Alec doesn't elaborate further to begin with, before realising he's only told me part of it.] From an orphanage I mean - it's the same ol' story about kids losin' family to the Risen then being taken into care when I was a baby. We hated it. We got old enough. We ran away.

You mentioned you have a partner, this mysterious V. Would you consider marriage or having children?

[Alec's demeanour almost doesn't change, but I've not spend years in journalism and not learnt how to read people. This question has clearly flustered the young commander.] Uhh, that's, kind of personal. I don't think about stuff like that? I, well it's just nice having someone around more now. [I was about to move on before he interrupts.] But, kids are good, if, I think I'd have liked too, if things had been different.

Let's talk about some juicy gossip! Do you secretly hate one of your friend?

What? [This clearly catches him off-guard, before letting out a bitter laugh.] No. I haven't got enough of those to secretly hate one of 'em. Plenty of people have made it clear how much they hate me though. I wouldn't be surprised if more of them secretly hated me too. [Another short pause, he shifts in his seat and I catch a peek at the small wings sticking out oh his back.] I'm too tired to hate any of them, especially secretly.

I see, so which friend knows everything about you?

[Almost subconsciously he touches his horns, they are short, stubby things.] I don't think, I have- maybe the two I mentioned earlier know the most. It's hard to talk about things. ["Hmm I'd picked up on that." At this he laughs, the minor tension that had started building up eased slightly.] Yeah I'm not great at words and stuff.

The next set of questions are asked my fans! Are you literate? Have you been to school?

Fans? [He shakes his head in disbelief before leaning back in his chair, hair obscuring his face slightly.] The orphanage wasn't much for teachin'. Next question. [I resist the urge to press further.]

The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

[He seems to spend some time thinking this one over before shaking his head.] Dunno. I guess I just assume most of the people I meet won't stick around long enough to be friends and...well I guess in a way they don't get to stick around I've....I've lost a lot of people. I guess that counts right? [He laughs slightly at this, but it isn't a happy one. Even the commander, who is oft described as cold is clearly affected by the ongoing tragedies he seeks to help stop.]

What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

I don't think I realised Sylvari could glow for like, ages. [He puts his hand up to his face slightly but he smiles slightly as he speaks, and it's only now I've realised he's without his infamous blind-fold. I mention this but he shrugs it off.] I still 'ave it. I just, don't want to wear it right now.

Do you have mental health or physical issues?

[He waves the stump of his missing arm, bandages still visible. Everyone's already heard about the fight against the fearsome Jungle dragon that cost him his arm, as well as the Marshall of The Pact .] Does this count? [He makes no mention of his mental health so I try to press further.] I'm fine.

What is your current main goal?

[Alec shakes his head, before shrugging again.] I'm not gonna talk about stuff like that, in case it puts people at risk, it's, well it's stuff that needs doing to help people.

Let's move onto something easy! Some choices! Drink or food?

Food. I like cooking. ["Really? The famous Commander, known and feared on the battlefield, enjoys being in a kitchen?" He smiles slightly and nods.] It's just nice y'know. I like making things a lot.

Cats or dogs?

Cats. Their senses are easier to see through and they can fit in smaller places. [Before I can ask what he means he continues.] I would like a pet one too I think.

Early bird or night owl?

I prefer getting up early, it means I have longer in the day to get stuff done.

Optimist or pessimist?

[He frowns again.] Don't know. I don't think things are ever gonna go very well. [He merely shrugs when I point out that he sounds like a pessimist.]

Sassy or sarcastic?

I wouldn't say I'm either to be honest. ["There have been reports from Queen Jenna's courts that you have been known to make the occasional sarcastic, scathing remark."] Well there are also reports I've got a huge dragon tail but that don't make it true either. [I don't point out that dry remark he made.]

You'll be pleased Alec, we are finally finishing up! Finally it's time for some "Have you evers". Lets start with have you ever been caught sneaking out?

Nope. I used to be unnoticeable, though, that's changed a...little. [He gestures to himself in what I am assuming is reference to his small wings and horns] Like I said earlier though, magic.

Broke a bone?

Nope not that either. ["Really? With your work on the field and from the battles I've heard, you've truly never broken a bone?] I guess that's just the one thing I got goin' for me I guess.

Received flowers?

I don't think so? Wait yeah maybe but they are from people I don't really know as thanks which is nice I guess- I give 'em to...my baker friend coz she likes to display them in her shop.

Ghosted someone?

[There's another pause, it seemed he'd been slowly getting used to speaking to me but this one has him quiet again.] Not....intentionally. Keepin' in contact is hard when you're constantly travelling. And writing is... not one of my greatest talents.

Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

Uhh to be honest I probably wouldn't realise it was a joke sometimes', and if I did and I don't get it then maybe they should have told a better joke. [He shrugs and I can't help but laugh at his honesty]

[There you have it readers, an EXCLUSIVE interview with the feared Commander himself. Nothing like the rumours who describe him as "The Beast", The Commander is just another war-weary fighter trying to do what's right.]

Thank you @the-mystic-dragon for tagging me this was so much fun to write! (Even if it took like, an hour, and I massively changed the format XD) This is written as if it's around mid to late lws3 and before PoF as well as in the au with Vasche! Vasche is @resonatingfern's wonderful character and Alec's "mysterious partner" in this. In terms of tagging, if ya wanna do one go ahead! Though I did change the format quite a bit oops XD

[junicai]

spinning.

| summary | sometimes, its just easier to move on to a new thing - rather than hold onto the old.

| word count | 2.6k

| warnings | none

| era: | pre-debut, circa. 2013 through 2016

2013. 

There is nothing in the world that can compare to the feeling of skating across clean ice. A smooth sheet, unmarred by skates belonging to those who have yet to wake up in the early hours of the morning. 

Not when it’s just you, the blades beneath your feet and the soft sounds that come with the ice being carved out - lines being embedded into the sheet of ice as you twirl across it. Painting pictures without the paint, gliding over the frozen lakes. 

It’s indescribable. The feeling of freedom, the feeling of flying. But that doesn’t mean Aria is going to stop trying to describe it to as many people as she can.

The most common question she is asked in an interview, either post or pre skate, is “why do you do what you do?” or “why do you love skating?” or “where does your motivation come from?” All the same question essentially, in different words and different fonts, with the same over-eager expression that Aria has come to know as one that is plastered on when the interviewer really couldn’t give less of a damn about the answer. 

They would swarm you at the edge of the rink, hungry and eager for a good piece, almost falling over each other in their desperation to catch her slip up on her words. Just because she was a child, doesn’t mean they weren’t ready prepared to destroy her on the front pages. 

Either way, Aria never had a solid answer for them.

Why did she do what she did? Her parents enrolled her in lessons as a child, you could say she just stuck with it. You could say that she found her niche early on, that she was blessed to have found what it is she loves at a young age. You could say that she was a prodigy in the making, you could say that she was advanced for her age, that she was sweeping competitions with skaters nearly twicer her age. You could say a lot of things, but that didn’t necessarily make them true. 

Skating was, all she knew. 

She had to love it.

Her life revolved around the carefully regimented training schedule, around meets and competitions that involved too many airplanes and too many sickbags and too many sprained wrists, ankles, knees; not enough schooling and not enough friends. 

Aria could her her coach’s voice calling out from across the rink. 

“Back leg! Straighten it out!” 

She straightened it out. 

Aria could feel the eyes of her mother from across the rink. The woman had insisted on accompanying her daughter to the rink that morning, although she never usually attended Aria’s morning practices - saying that it was ungodly hours to be awake and claiming that “she was a working woman! She needed her sleep”, although never had any reservations in shoving her daughter out the door.

Today though, her mother’s piercing eyes found Aria’s from the side benches she sat on, legs crossed as well as her arms, eyes cold and calculating. She knew better than to call out her corrections - less Aria’s coach hear her - but Aria knew she’d be getting an earful back home about that leg. 

She took a breath, eyes hardening as she fixed her gaze forward.

Today marked six months since she had competed in her last competition, having taken a break from public appearances and performances, reducing her training down to twice a week instead of her regular rigid schedule. Spilling across the ice, feeling her knees weaken underneath her as she pushed up into the air before coming down far too quickly was enough to deter her from getting back onto the ice again for a while. 

Aria loved skating, she did. Truly. There was something about coming to a rink in the early morning, half the gym barely awake to take notice of the petite fourteen-year-old kneeling beside the benches to lace up her skates. 

Something about the soft sun that came whispering in through the skylight windows that dotted the ceilings, something about the silent speakers that had yet to play the summer 2012 hits because the attendee hadn’t woken up from their bed yet.

Something about skating as fast as you can, before wrapping your arms in as tightly as possible and spinning. 

As fast as a spinning top; spinning, spinning, spinning. 

She never felt like she would fall. 

Spinning, spinning, spinning.

2014.

She spun around slowly, hands and arms raised as the security officer checked the scans. A small beep sounded and the lights beside the panel the officer was standing at flashed green. Stepping out, she was cleared to go through with a wave, the teenage girl offering a nod of thanks and a small smile to the man as she moved out of the way of the next passenger and towards the moving belt across the room.

Her brightly-coloured yellow suitcase was starkly obvious against the faded black plastic of the rollers that spun as it moved down, and Aria grabbed its’ handle in her fist before bracing herself and heaving it off the just slightly-too-high to be comfortable ledge. 

Aria’s shoes scuffed against the grayed flooring as she pulled the case off the belt, and reached back up to grab the smaller - but still large enough - backpack in a similar colour to the suitcase she was now stabilizing with her other hand. The bright red sticker with the letters U.M. on it stuck out against the material.  It slid off the ledge quickly, almost smacking Aria in the face.

She huffed slightly, glaring at the plastic-covered backpack in her right fist.

“Pooh-san, you could have hurt me! I have to look like the pictures mum sent of me, or else they mightn’t let me in!” she scolded the soft yellow covered ear poking out of the partially unzipped bag. It bounced slightly as Aria proceeded to swing the backpack onto her shoulder, tugging down on the strap with her hand.

Her mother’s voice echoed in her head. “Don’t you go losing that bag now! It has all your details in it for when you land - you show those bits of paper to the lady who’ll be picking you up in the airport, alright?”

A small squeeze to the bottom of the bag made the papers rustle slightly, and Aria relaxed minutely at the knowledge that they hadn’t suddenly gone missing. The rattle that followed the shifting paper popped another stark reminder into her mind. 

Still standing off to one side of the security line, Aria pulled the backpack down off her back again, opening the zip and carefully pushing Pooh-san to the side before dipping her hand in and closing her fingers around a small pink velour sachet.  

She pulled it out, and tucked it carefully into the front pocket of the hoodie she was wearing - nestled beside her passport and the few bank notes she had left. There had been hot chocolate offered on the flight and it had been all too easy to accept without her parents there to tell her no. 

Aria inhaled a deep breath, letting her shoulders come up to her ears before exhaling sharply and dropping them down.

“Okay,” she mumbled to herself, her grip tightening on her suitcase handle. “Okay.”

Not looking back, she began walking towards the exit that would lead her into the main section of the airport terminal, following all the light blue signs and their arrows pointing “arrivals”. Aria kept her head down moving in between people walking slower, apologizing when she accidentally hit a tall man with the wheels on her case and subsequently opting to push the case in front of her instead of tugging it behind. 

Leaving behind everything that she knew was daunting; her friends, her home. Everyone she'd ever known was about to be replaced with a dozen or so trainees - all years older and wiser than her.

She was going to miss home. Home, in the sense of the people that knew her inside out and back to front, who she knew the same. Even those that she didn't know at all, but knew her too well.

Aria passed a dozen shops, all with brightly coloured names and signage in an alphabet she couldn’t read, people walking both ways down a one-way corridor, noise surrounding her. Older women gave her a smile as she passed them by, offering a small wave when she smiled back. 

Walking through a final archway, Aria stepped forward into a large opened area, illuminated by the skylights that covered the entire ceiling. Large panels hung from the centre of the room, flights inbound and outbound covering both sides of the screen. People stood around at the gate, some holding up signs with names in a multitude of languages, others clinging onto the metal bar that separated the passengers from their families who waited for them.

Looking up, Aria scanned the white panels for her name. 

She spun on her heel as she searched, spinning around twice before landing on the oddly written kanji, with its slightly wobbly lines like it had been written very slowly.

Aria’s eyes trailed upwards, finding the eyes of a peaceful looking woman holding her sign and already watching her. The woman broke her serene stare with a blink, before beckoning Aria over. 

“Miyazu Akari?” 

Aria nodded, her eyes continuing their trail upwards.

There, above the woman’s head. A sign.

Incheon, International Airport. South Korea.

2014. 

Aria was spinning. 

Four counts, and a half beat. 

Her feet left the ground in a graceful arc, turning in mid air as her arms pulled themselves in, and - oh dear. She’d missed the final count. 

Aria met the ground in a heap, too rushed to try and stop her spin to slow down her movement enough for her to catch the wobble. Her hands met the wooden spring flooring, fingers crinkling as she gathered herself again. Her breath came in heavy pants, knees aching from where they had hit the floor. 

Covered in bruises hidden by the dark grey leggings, Aria’s legs shook slightly, even after righting herself and moving gingerly back over towards her starting position. She could feel the eyes of the others boring into her back, and she made an aborted apologetic bow towards their choreographer; who scoffed slightly. 

“Again. Because some people can’t count.” He gritted out between clenched teeth, walking over to stop the pounding music that had yet to halt like the rest of the girls in the practice room had. 

Aria kept her eyes on the ground, moving her mouth in time with the counts.

“One, a two, a three, a four, and, one-” she mouthed, focused on keeping her feet in time with the others as they moved through the motions again and again and again. 

By the time their choreographer called for a break, Aria was sweating through her hoodie, though still unwilling to take it off. The other trainees had no such qualms however, tugging hoodies and t-shirts over their heads to leave them in leg-hugging shorts and various colours of sports bras. Toned stomachs and steely legs were revealed, as heads were tipped back to pour water into open mouths.

Aria picked up her own water bottle to follow suit. 

The water was warmed slightly from the condensation that was beginning to gather on the mirrors and the hot, sweat-filled air that permeated the room, but Aria broke open the seal and drank thirstily regardless. She knew she only had a moment before they were called back to practice. 

“Okay girls, I think that’s enough for today.”

Or perhaps she had been mistaken. 

Nevertheless, Aria was definitely not done for the day. That final turn was going to drive her insane unless she got it down, and she’d rather not have to walk back to the practice rooms in the middle of the night just because she couldn’t sleep. 

So instead of following the others in their relieved, tired sighs and bemoans of wanting a shower, Aria opened her bag and shoved her bottle back inside. She called out to another girl as she passed. 

“Unnie, I think I might stay back for a bit. Can you tell Eunji-unnie that I’ll be late home and she shouldn’t worry?” her voice was higher pitched in Korean Aria noticed; not on purpose, but the language had a certain lilt to it that felt more comfortable in a higher register.

The woman in question send her a look, eyebrows furrowed. “That’s fine Ari-ah, but don’t stay back too long ok? We have another early practice tomorrow morning.” 

Aria winced at the reminder. “I will, unnie.”

She waved goodbye to the other girls, waiting for the last one to leave with a smile and a small wave before moving to the small sound system in the corner of the room. Aria pulled up the track again, pressing play about halfway through the song. 

Her hand came to tap out the rhythm on her thigh, eyes looking to the left but not seeing as she focused on finding the syncopated beats in the back of the song. As the section ended, Aria pulled back the track to the same part, playing it four more times before she was satisfied that she’d found the correct rhythm. 

She clicked play, before moving back to slightly off centre of the room. Counting out the opening beats, Aria pushed herself off the ground, calling out the rhythm to herself in her mind. 

The room was spinning, 

and she landed in a heap. 

2015.

Oh god the room was spinning. Her hands were shaking, Aria was pretty sure that her stomach had turned and that was a good signal that she was about to throw up and was not something to be ignored.

Yet here she was, ignoring it. 

Her wobbly hands reached for the proffered pen - a blue ballpoint pen with a fancy casing that probably cost more than the jumper she was wearing to hide the old t-shirt she had thrown on that morning. 

She was absolutely going to be sick. 

A click on the top of the pen let Aria know that it was ready, and with wobbly, shaky hands;

she signed across the line in deep blue ink.

2016.

The ceiling was spinning. 

That was new. 

Aria felt like her back had been slammed into a wall, like she’d been run over by a truck and been flattened into the ground - like she’d been underwater for too long and hadn’t had time to regain her breath. 

With a choked gasp, her mouth opened as a hand flew to her mouth. She coughed and inhaled simultaneously, choking on the air. Her chest heaved, hand pounding into it as if it was just in need of a kick-start. 

Hands found her waist, hoisting her into an upright sitting position. Aria was still coughing lightly, although the new pair of hands rubbing gently against her back helped tremendously. From a look upwards, eyes watering in the bright light, she was able to make out Yuta’s humored face.

“Yah, Riri what have we told you about those turns?” he scolded, eyes bright with mischief although she could see the tinge of worry hidden behind it. 

“Not to do them unless someone else is here,” she mumbled, leaning back into his comforting hand on her back. It really did help, considering she had just wiped out onto the hard flooring. 

“Stupid.” Yuta flicked her forehead, before mussing her hair affectionately. The skin reddened slightly, and Aria hissed in pain. She glared at Yuta, who looked far too nonchalant for having just assaulted her. Standing up, he offered a hand to help her off the floor which Aria begrudgingly accepted.

She huffed dramatically, stretching her arms above her head. Aria felt her shoulders crack and sighed slightly at the burst of tension release. She let her head fall to the side as she heard the door to the practice room open.

Ah, there were the others.  

Taeyong walked into the room first, followed by Taeil, Donghyuck, and all the boys before Aria was outnumbered seven to one. 

Her world was spinning. 

[jadelotusflower]

June 2021 Roundup

It's been a month of highs and lows. Every year my city holds a cabaret festival, and I've seen some truly amazing acts over the years - including Lea Salonga, Kristin Chenoweth, and Indina Menzel. This year's Artistic Director was the great Alan Cumming, and although due to covid he didn't quite get to curate the program he wanted to, the opening night Gala was still a highlight, as was Alan's DJ set at the pop-up Club Cumming afterwards, where there was much singing at the top of my lungs and dancing to pop anthems and theatre tunes. At one point Alan, dressed in a onesie and perched on the shoulders of a man wearing only sparkly short shorts, was carried around the dance floor while Circle of Life blared. Reader, I was delighted.

I was also able to see his solo show Alan Cumming Is Not Acting His Age, which was hilarious and damn, he can sing!

As for the low, I was meant to fly to Sydney for the weekend to see Hamilton, a trip I have been looking forward to for almost a year, but had to be cancelled because of a covid outbreak and border closures. The tickets have been rescheduled, but I'm still kind of bummed about it (while completely appreciating the need for covid safety, especially when our vaccine rollout has been completely botched by our incompetent, corrupt federal government)

Anyway.

Reading

The Hundred and One Dalmations (Dodie Smith) - With all the bewilderment over Disney's Cruella, I decided to revisit the original novel which I first read as a kid. It's funny, I had very vivid memories of this book, or rather thought I did, particularly the scene where Roger and Anita have dinner at Cruella's house that fixed in my young mind as utterly disturbing with all this devil imagery and the implication Cruella was literally some kind of demon, which must have been either a) my overactive imagination or b) an illustration, because it's not as clear as I thought it was. The strangeness is there (food with too much pepper, Cruella's inability to keep warm, the walls painted blood red) but not the explicit demon imagery I had remembered. There is a part later in the book recounting the history of Hell Hall and the rumors of Cruella's ancestor streaking out of the place conjuring blue lightening, but clearly child me was reading far more into the book than was on the page.

But I still wish they'd gone with this version of Cruella's backstory, because to me an aristocratic, ink-drinking, heat-obsessed, possibly-demon spawn, high camp villain is more interesting and rings far more true than plucky punk against the establishment.

Smith clearly had Facts About Dalmations to share, and she does really craft a wonderful animal-based story that the Disney animated film is largely faithful to. Key differences include: Roger's occupation (he doesn't have to pay tax because he wiped out government debt somehow?!?), Pongo's mate and the puppy's mother is called Missis, Perdita is another dalmation who acts as a kind of doggie wet nurse, Roger and Anita both have Nannies who come to live with them (Nanny Butler and Nanny Cook), Cruella is married to a furrier (who changed his last name to de Vil). Also odd, on her first description Cruella is described as having "dark skin" but later in the novel her "white face" is mentioned, so I'm chalking it up to 50's descriptors not having the same meanings they do today.

The Duke and I (Julia Quinn) - After being just whelmed by the tv series, I wasn't really planning on reading the books, but I saw this on the top picks shelf at the library and damn, the top picks shelf is irresistible. This is very much Daphne's book (and I had known each in the series dealt with the different sibling) so many of the characters and much of the plot of the show is absent, as are some of the more baffling elements of the show like the Diamond of the First Water nonsense, which I always thought was a strange character choice in that it stacks the deck for Daphne when her character arc is better served as somewhat of an underdog (in her third season, the kind of girl who is liked but not adored), and the Prince subplot which was always far too OTT even for soapy regency romance.

It's a breezy, fun read (that scene excepted), even if the misunderstandings are contrived and I'm never going to take "I'll never have kids because I hate my dad" as a credible romantic obstacle deserving of so much angst.

Faeries (Brian Froud and Alan Lee) - A lovingly detailed and illustrated compendium of Faerie and its inhabitants, drawing from a range of European (but primarily Celtic) folklore and mythology. Froud was a conceptual designer on The Dark Crystal and Labyrinth, and the link is clear in the art as well as the focus on faeries as mysterious but oftimes sinister beings, where human encounters with them rarely end well. Lee has illustrated several publications of Tolkien's novels, and was a lead concept artists for Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings and Hobbit trilogies, and there is a touch of Middle Earth here as well, or rather the common inspiration of the old world. A useful resource for my novel!

Watching

The Handmaid's Tale (season 4, episodes 4-8) SPOILERS - So when I last wrote about this show in the Roundup, I was complaining it wasn't going anywhere. Well, I'm happy to be wrong because they finally changed things up with June finally escaping to Canada. That part of the plot following the survivors and their trauma has always been far more compelling than Gilead, and so it was a welcome development even if I side-eye some of the choices (none of these characters is seeing an actual licensed therapist why?).

This show has always been difficult to watch given the subject matter, and that has not changed after the shift in power dynamics. I will give the show credit for showing a broad range of trauma responses, from Moira wanting to move on and not let it consume her, to June, a ball of rage and revenge on a downward spiral, to Emily, trying to follow Moira's path but being drawn to June's, to Luke, trying his best but utterly unequipped to deal with what is happening.

But it is very hard to watch June go down this path - raping her husband (I concede the show perhaps didn't intend for it to be rape, but that's what is on screen and framing it as just "taking away Luke's agency" doesn't change that), wishing death on Serena's unborn child, and orchestrating Fred's brutal murder by particulation, then holding her own daughter still covered in his blood and it getting smeared on Nicole's face (an unsubtle metaphor in a series full of unsubtle metaphors).

There are interesting questions being asked of the viewer, and the show (perhaps rightly) not giving any answers. I can certainly appreciate the catharsis of Fred getting what he deserves even if I personally find the manner of it horrifying, but where is the line between justice and revenge, is revenge the only option when justice is denied, when does a trauma release become cyclical violence/abuse - the show is, for now, letting the viewer decide.

Soul (dir. Pete Docter and Kemp Powers) - In a world full of remakes/reboots/sequels, Pixar is perhaps the lone segment under the Disney umbrella committed to original content. However, there does seem to be a Pixar formula at work directed to precision tugging the heart strings, and some of the film feels like well-trod ground. On the other hand, it's hard to criticise the risk of centering a kids film around the existential crisis of a middle aged man, even with the requisite cutesy elements (and of course, the uncomfortable pattern of yet another film where the black lead character spends a great deal of the runtime in non-human form - herein, an amorphous blob or a cat). But the animation is stunning, it successfully did tug my heart strings, and the design of the Great Before and the Jerrys is original and fun.

RuPaul's Drag Race Down Under - Drag Race is somewhat of a guilty pleasure for me, since I generally don't watch reality shows, and this is something I really enjoy even if I'm not invested in the fandom (which like many fandoms can be very yikes). This year it was time for the Australian/New Zealand (Aotearoa) queens to show their stuff, although it's been met with mixed reactions. Covid restrictions didn't allow for guest judges, relegating them to mere cameos via video calls, and its clear that Ru and Michelle really don't quite get all the cultural nuances - Aussie judge Rhys Nicholson was however always delightful. But it wouldn't be Australia without a racism scandal, with the great disappointment of the two queens of colour eliminated first, and one queen having done blackface in the recent past yet making it all the way to the top four.

In the end, the only viable and deserving winner was last Kiwi standing Kita Mean, and it was pure joy to see her get crowned. I do hope they fix the bugs and indeed do another season to better showcase AU/NZ talent.

Writing

A far more productive month - to try and get out of my writing funk I had a goal to try and write every day, even if it was only 100 words. While I didn't quite achieve a consecutive month, I did get a pretty good average, at least got something posted and two others nearly there.

The Lady of the Lake - 2441 words, Chapter 4 posted.

Against the Dying of the Light - 2745 words

Turn Your Face to the Sun - 1752 words.

Here I Go Again - 1144 words

Total words this month: 8082

Total words this year: 35,551

[smashskate]

Jackie Jett - For @thesimsters-stories​‘s Love Island

“Well damn! I’m Jackie, and I can control the weather!”

Name: Jackie Jett

Age: 26

Location: Del Sol Valley

Occupation: Weather Reporter

Traits: Non-Committal, Ambitious, Outgoing

Aspiration: World-Famous Celebrity

Skills:

Charisma: 8

Wisdom: 6

Dancing: 4

Acting: 4

Bio: 

Introducing Jacqueline “Jackie” Jett, the semi-famous Weather Reporter on the Del Sol Valley Network, Channel 7. With hair about as big as her ego, Jackie is known for being loud, proud, and... another word that ends in -oud. Give us a bit to think of one, and we’ll get back to you. 

Jackie grew up in the suburbs of Del Sol Valley, with her parents and two older brothers. She excelled in school, graduating Valedictorian of her class and getting accepted into Foxbury Institute’s Specialized Biology program. It’s safe to say that years of success definitely boosted her opinion of herself, which was struck down a few notches when the job market tightened up as soon as she graduated. Jobs in her field were hard to come by, and Jackie was feeling down on her luck. One day while shopping with her bffs, she was approached by a man who she assumed to be a model scout. It turned out to be Victor Price, one of the producers at DSVN, who offered her a spot as their new weather reporter. With the show’s viewer count draining as online news becomes the new craze, Jackie’s appearance is possibly the only thing holding the studio together at this point, and she knows it.

While Jackie does have some brains on her, her most admirable trait are her wits. She’s real cunning, and knows how to play the game to come out on top. Unlike some of the other applicants, long-term romance isn’t really Jackie’s thing. She’s much more inclined to one night stands and hookups, and anyone who lasts longer gets their number deleted from her phone. Jackie claims to love this lifestyle, much to her cuffed friend’s dismay. While they think she’s crazy for not wanting to get boo’d up, she thinks the idea of being tied down is absolutely sickening. So why would she apply for a show like Love Island, where the only goal is to find true (or true in terms of reality television) love? (Reason number 1 will shock you!)

Questions:

Briefly describe yourself and your life.

“If you insist, LOL! Alright, my name’s Jackie Jett and I’m 26 years old. If I look familiar, it’s probably because you’ve seen me on DSVN, during the 8am time slot, 9 on weekends. Shameless plug, I’m the hottest weather girl in the hottest city in the west! Sure, the job’s a bore at times and I really only got hired for my looks and not my now-useless biology degree, but it pays well and I get a lot of time off to do the things I actually enjoy! I’m not actually as dumb as I come off to our viewers. I’m college educated! Although, it doesn’t really matter much at the moment, so I figured why not have fun where I am now? Also yes, I’m a natural redhead. Anyone that tells you different is a disgusting liar.”

Any Hobbies?

“My hobbies pretty much only consist of me going out and getting drunk. But it’s not that bad! I’ve always been a party girl, since high school even. There’s nothing more fun than going to a nightclub and letting your inhibitions run wild for a few hours! And if I can witness some celeb drama happen live before I hear about it at the studio the next morning, that's always a plus.”

How long have you been single?

“Well, that depends on what you define a relationship as, doesn't it? If you’re talking about any kind of romance, than I’m technically never single. I’m just never with the same person! If you define it as a romantic, long term relationship, then not since freshman year of college. And I’d like to keep it that way, thank you very much. I love to have my options open.”

Why did your last relationship end?

“Again, if we’re talking longer term, he wanted to get more serious and I realized that it just wasn’t what I was looking for. I was 19 and I still wanted to experience so much before getting cuffed. He really didn't take it well, so kinda safe to say I dodged a bullet on that one.”

What are you looking for in a relationship?

“If I had to be in one? I would want the other person to know and respect that I’m not going to be tied down for the rest of time. The whole “open relationship” thing is a standard I like to set with my long term hookups, and I would like that to apply here as well. Also, they should be hot. I’ve been with every type of guy you can think of, but I’ve got standards. I like em sexy, who can blame me? I promise, if I get on the show I’ll try to restrain myself. Keyword try. Also generally don't be a dick. Just because I’ve been with a lot of men doesn't mean I’m less deserving of respect. Any guy that thinks differently goes out the door, sorry not sorry. Oh, did you know that I have Demi Lovato’s phone number? We’re, like, basically besties.”

What are you not looking for in a relationship?

“By this point in the interview I think it’s pretty obvious the one thing I’m super not looking for, LOL! But other than that, I’m open to a lot! Just depends on who’s asking.” *winks* “I’m really not territorial, but if any of the women try to shame me for my lifestyle, I’m not afraid to get my claws out. Women are supposed to support women, I’m not tolerating any bullshit.”

Something else we should know about you?

“Okay, I guess this is where I come clean. Well, to the producers at least. So, basically, for the last few months, our shows ratings and viewership have been dropping. Our analytics team looked into it, and we’re pretty sure it’s because of that Simstagram News update. Instead of watching the actual news, people are going there because it’s quicker and easier to get info. So one day, Victor comes up to me and is all like “I’ve got an idea and I need your help”, which is already fishy because that’s basically code for “I need to use your looks to get the show traction”. So I go into his office and he brings up the Love Island Application. And, like, at first I’m hesitant because I work in showbiz, right? I know how reality tv stars get perceived by the public. But then I realized that if the studio tanks, I’ll no longer have a job, which like, major bummer. So I say yes!

In the end, I’m here to stir up drama and look cute on camera, all as bait for people to come and watch live news. Of course, I get the added benefit of a longer segment on the show, and a boost in Simstagram followers! So it’s really a win-win! Honestly, I probably would have applied anyway, if I had seen the casting call before Victor showed it to me. A bunch of hot guys, hookups, and more drama than a Kardashian-Jenner Simstagram comment section? That’s basically my dream life! And hey, who knows? Maybe I’ll finally get a tan!”

Some fun facts:

Please, make more That 70′s Show references when you meet her. She’s never heard them before. You’re so original, oh my gosh.

She’s allergic to shrimp. Makes for a downer at fancy parties.

She doesn’t tan, just burns. Curse her Irish heritage.

She played volleyball in college. She was pretty good at it, but almost broke her nose, which cause her to quit out of fear of getting a nose job.

She’s definitely a B list celebrity. No, don’t look it up. The internet is full of misinformation. You can’t trust anything.

She watched Mr.Robot and now has tape over her webcam. Sincerest apologies to her FBI agent. He/She’s missing a lot.

She’s a secret drama nerd. She can’t sing for the life of her, but she did the occasional play when she was younger.

Although her brothers know she can make her own decisions, they’re still super protective. They’re like 6ft+ guard dogs that Jackie sicks on any man that harms her.

She's got a tattoo of a ladybug. She won't tell you where, you’ll just have to find out for yourself ;)

Despite her complaining, her and Victor are pretty close. They have that sibling type bond. Only if one sibling was able to fire the other.

[theliterateape]

Why Can't We Just Share the Last Slice of Pizza?

by Don Hall

I had the first TV dinner in possibly forty-years a few weeks ago and it was kind of incredible.

Sure, it was a Hungry Man® chicken and mashed potatoes concoction and had more sodium than a bucket of sea water but it was still oddly delicious and covered in a gravy comprised of nostalgia and gluten. I didn't buy the frozen tray in a cardboard box. No, my wife has, in the pandemic, taken to rebranding her self as a 'resource locator' otherwise known as a 'dumpster diver.'

It sounds odd but I'm convinced that when the Second Great Depression takes hold, I'm married to the most resourceful and extraordinary partner on the planet. She finds brand new shoes, genuine Shriner fez's, and food. Cans of food thrown away. Expired bags of pretzels. And still-frozen TV dinners.

The nostalgia of consuming this marvel of the fifties, the fully-prepared dinner, ready to heat and eat in front of the television comes from my youth. In terms of economic status there were times in my earliest days when we were 'poor'. Now, mom wouldn't let us use that word to describe our situation. She preferred to say we were 'broke'. That distinction was my first lesson in reframing your perspective to fuel optimism.

Whichever it was called it was common practice growing up to eat TV dinners and mom would cut each portion in half (even the weird lava-like brownie or apple-crunch) so we had a meal the next day as well.

When we couldn't afford a Swanson-manufactured meal, she'd make what she called 'Spanish Rice'—Minute rice, a green pepper, tomato sauce, and Tabasco—another rebranding that certainly made this odd and rough cultural appropriation seem both unsavory and about as white as it could be.

Mom worked hard. My recollection was that she was often working several jobs and doing the best she could to keep us in clothing and food with a roof over our heads despite the fact that the minimum wage at the time was $1.60. She also had a way of reframing things so that, at no point, did we feel like we were missing out on much.

On top of that raising me could not have been easy.

We moved around a lot so I was always the new kid in school. Even with teachers and administrators, there is a tribal imperative to put the new members in their place, establishing the rules of behavior and assigning the slot for the newest members. I was never much of a conformist so this dance of going along to get along didn't take. All of which made my struggling mother's life one of battling the powers that be to protect her less than socialized monkey-son.

There are stories. The time I was forbidden to speak in class so I drew pictures of a butt and a butt pooping to silently curse some kids out. The incident of my failing to stay put during classes and finding escape routes during lunch that caused an epic battle as the Vice Principal decided to ban me from the Free Lunch program out of pique and spite. The summer when I was caught beating up Cub Scouts because they wouldn't let me join due to my mother's financial inability to buy me the requisite uniform.

There's an image I have in my head of my tiny mother almost coming to blows with a much larger woman because the woman called us "poor white trash." We were white but my mother wouldn't abide her children embracing the twin ideas of us being poor or being trash.

“No, Donald. You cannot just eat the last piece of pizza. You need to learn to share.”

In Chicago there's a thing called 'dibs.' 

Sometimes it snows big and the streets are plowed but the parking spots are all but obliterated by small mountains of snow. The diligent among residents get their shovels out of the garage and clear out the snow from in front of their homes so that they will then have a place to park. They have done the work, so they feel entitled to the benefits of that labor.

The problem lies with those who do not shoulder in and remove the snow yet still feel entitled to park on public streets that they, after all is said and done, have paid for with their tax dollars.

Thus 'dibs.' The shoveler decides to put a lawn chair or card table or statue of the Virgin Mary in the spot they have labored over so when they come home from work, the spot has been saved for them and them alone.

It all sounds silly until you look at from an economic perspective. There are more cars in Chicago than there are legal places to park. It's a fact. The demand for spaces is greater than the supply. Parking tickets cost drivers thousands of dollars a year and the 'ticket dicks' are as numerous as the homeless. When it snows and the plows come through there are suddenly even less spaces than there were the night before.

Given the city will clear the roads but not the curbs the solution for half the population is to carve out their own space and the other half parks wherever they can. Those who take the spots but do not shovel are capitalizing on the labor of those who do and it pisses them off.

“No, Donald. You cannot just eat the last piece of pizza. You need to learn to share.”

I was thirteen. I was growing. I ate like a fucking locust with the table manners of the Cookie Monster. There it was—the last piece. I wanted it. My sister was small and weak. What was she gonna do?

“Offer your sister the last piece.”

“…do you want the last…”

“YES!” she barked and shoved the whole piece in her mouth.

“That’s NOT FAIR! We coulda split it! That’s not sharing, that’s theft!”

That’s Capitalism. Cut throat. Haves and Have Nots. It is simply not in human nature to share. In all of recorded history there has always been, in every society and civilization, when approached with abundance, a small percentage of those at the top and a much larger percentage at the bottom. Call it what you want—winners and losers, the One Percent and the Ninety-Nine (great name for a prog rock band), Bourgeoisie and Proletariat—it all amounts to the same dynamic.

It occurs to me that in the fight to get people fired from their jobs for tweeting arguably terrible things the double standard in place is exceptionally capitalist. On the ‘cancel culture’ side is the idea that people should be held accountable for their words in the world and, if they cross the line, then employers should fire them. On the other side, these same people will scream that an employer who decides that a kid wearing the costume of his culture or using grammatically incorrect language cannot be fired.

Both are individuals putting themselves and their ability to express themselves at the center of a business that has little to do with the individual. Everyone should have the right to their own specific identity as they see fit but no one should have the right to exert themselves above a business that pays them a salary in order to center things on them.

It’s frustrating. Economic class is the true great divider in the world. Because it is so ingrained in the human experience to live with those who have the cash and many who do not, economic class seems an unassailable unfairness. It’s an immovable and undeniable trait in societies of every stripe. 

The landlord who leverages herself to get loans to buy an apartment building, fix it up to be livable, and rents it out to people has shoveled the snow. The tenant who claims it is unfair to be evicted from that apartment building because they cannot pay the rent is parking wherever there is a spot.

And it pisses everybody off.

No, it is neither race nor gender that is the engine of inequity. It’s almost entirely economic class.

Since the existence of class is so ever-present and unmoving, we focus on other things to change society. The battle to curb billionaires has never really taken hold despite the obvious problems they present. So we focus on race, we focus on gender. We spend our energy ignoring that most of inequity that exists between humans is about economics and find as many differences between those of us on the Have Not side as we can.

Why is it so hard to get rid of billionaires and that pernicious One Percent? Because we all want what they have. We all want the last piece of pizza and the parking space. We all want the luxury of luxurious things. We resent the things we'd have to do to get that luxury so instead we tear at anyone and everyone to gain whatever slice we can.

No one wants to shovel out that goddamned parking space. Trust me. In thirty years of living in Chicago, I shoveled tons and tons of snow to get that coveted spot. I never did the 'dibs' thing but I empathize with the fury at someone taking that spot I've labored over. 

Study after study indicates that it is economic class that holds us back far more than race or gender but the road to power is through a perception of grievance these days and the only evil when presenting poverty as the problem is human nature. Men and women can be demonized. That game has been around for-freaking-ever. African Americans can demonize whites (but not black Americans because African immigrants in America do, on average, far better economically than whites). We can go the People of Color vs White People but, in order to make that case, Asians have to be ignored or made white-adjacent. 

No, it is neither race nor gender that is the engine of inequity. It’s almost entirely economic class. Not that acknowledging that will change anything.

The utopian ideals of Socialism and even Communism sound better than Capitalism. The problem is the humans are built from the DNA to compete. Compete for resources, for sexual partners, for jobs, for shelter. Competition is as instinctual as our desire to procreate and Capitalism is a competitive sport. Throughout history, progress toward learning to truly share that slice of pizza is slow because it goes against our very nature. Not impossible and thus worth the effort but fucking S-L-O-W.

A friend recently posited that maybe I have gained some wisdom in my aging. He then switched and decided that maybe what we think is wisdom is just age plus exhaustion. Whichever it is, I have learned to share. I've also learned that in order to share, I have to assume my offer of the last piece of pie is going to be taken and stuffed into my sister's mouth. I can be wounded by the gesture, I can even be annoyed by it. I have to let it go.

I'm comfortable with the concept of enough. Meaning, if I have enough to share, I have enough to survive. Even if it's only enough of my mom's Spanish Rice.

There will be those, always those, who are so imbued with the need to compete that there is never enough. There will be those, perpetually those, who have not had enough and are willing to tear it out of the mouths of those who have.

And there will always be those, unendingly those, who are fine parking in the open spot knowing that someone else put in the work and not caring enough about anyone else that they take up the space and benefit from the labor without contributing.

On the best days, I don't run into them.

[morbid-n-macabre]

Fayetteville, Georgia-

40 year old Chris Benoit was a famous WWE wrestler and family annihilator. The "Canadian Crippler", as he was known in the wrestling world, murdered his wife, Nancy, their 7 year old son, Daniel, then committed suicide during the 3 day weekend of June 22nd through the 25th of 2007.

On Friday Nancy lost her life. She was killed in a second story room; her limbs had been bound, a cord wrapped around her throat, and she was strangled. There were bruises on her stomach and back where Chris had presumably pressed his knee into her, and at some point she suffered a blow to the head. When she was deceased, Nancy was covered with a towel and a Bible was place near her body. Toxicology later proved that Vicodin and Xanax were in her system, but sources claim that these were her everyday medications.

It's believed that someone during Saturday night little Daniel was murdered in his bed. It's thought that Chris drugged his son with Xanax ahead of time, then suffocated him; many believe that Chris used his famous signature wrestling move, the Crippler Crossface, to end his child's life. As with his mother, a Bible was discovered in very close proximity to Daniel's corpse.

Throughout this weekend Chris had been in contact with his close friend and fellow wrestler, Chavo Guerrero. Chris had missed a show, which was very much out of character for him; Chris explained that both Nancy and Daniel both had a nasty case of food poisoning and he may need to take them to the hospital.

On Sunday, Chavo and a a few other wrestlers received text messages from Chris's phone. These messages named the Benoit family's full street address, stated that the garage door was open, and the dogs were chained up in the back yard.

Since I try to be as factually correct as humanly possible, I'm not real sure as to who initially discovered the bodies. Most sources state that the police were called to conduct a wellness check, but others say that the Benoit's neighbor, Holly Schrepfer, was sent to the home to check on the dogs thereby stumbling upon the crime scene. Chris had passed away from apparent suicide just after he sent those texts to his buddies. He'd gone into his workout room, stacked on 240 pounds, and rigged the weight machine to hang himself; the wrestler's neck had been broken. The home computer's search history showed that someone had recently researched "the quickest and easiest way to break a neck".

As for Chris's motive, some think that Chris murdered Daniel because he suffered from "Fragile X Syndrome", but doctors say that the boy did not have this condition. It's said that Daniel had needle track marks on his arms at the time of his death, that Chris had deemed Daniel small for his age so he was treating the 7 year old with growth hormone injections. It's also said that Daniel had been having a hard time in school, and was being held back a grade; it must be mentioned that the boy's teachers say this is absolutely not true. As for Nancy, it's rumored that there had been some recent problems in the Benoit marriage. The relationship had been a passionate one; at one time the couple had separated and Nancy had filed for divorce, but according to friends those troubled times had seemed to be behind them. Furthermore, the shape of Chris's brain definitely needs mentioning. The man had been a superb wrestler, willing to perform stunts in which few others would dare attempt. Due to this, Chris's brain had been severely damaged; he'd suffered multiple untreated concussions, a broken neck in '01, and the steroid abuse certainly hadn't helped his condition. During autopsy the athlete had ten times the level of testosterone in his system, and his brain was comparable to that of an 85 year old Alzheimer's patient. Matter of fact, had this tragedy not occurred, doctors say that Chris would've had maybe 10 months left to live.

Those close to the wrestler say that Chris had been acting increasingly strange before that tragic weekend. He'd been quoting scripture and seen with a rosary around his neck. The wrestler had not been a religious man, yet Bibles were found next to all 3 corpse; a note which read, "I'm preparing to leave this Earth" was discovered inside one Bible. He'd been having strange nightmares, and kept a diary in which he wrote to his recently deceased best friend, Eddie Guerrero. Chris had become paranoid, thought people were following him, he wouldn't even take his trash out to the curb for fear that someone would rifle through it. Chris wouldn't allow his son to play in the yard, he had began taking detours on his way home, and was adamant that Nancy not stay out late after dark. The man had been terrified that someone was watching him, planning something sinister against him.

For many, these are little signs that all was not well in Chris's mind; for others, it's proof that he truly had been in trouble. Maybe someone really had been following him, meant to do him harm. Some believe that Chris and his family were murdered, and yes it does sound preposterous, but there is some evidence which points towards it.

The most popular theory is that fellow wrestler Kevin Sullivan murdered the family, and he did have some pretty serious motive! Back in the day Kevin and Chris were very close friends who played adversaries in the ring; during this time, Kevin and Nancy had been married. You know how the wrestlers have their storylines? Well, the Chris/Kevin story eventually lead to Nancy, who played a character known simply as "Woman" in the wrestling industry, had been having an affair with Chris. Kevin, Nancy's then husband, was not only cool with this fantasy, but he helped to write the story! In order to make it more realistic, Nancy and Chris were seen hanging out alone, they were often purposely discovered out in public on romantic dates, etc. Well, eventually this pretend affair turned into the real deal; the pair fell in love. Nancy divorced Kevin and married Chris, understandably creating a rift between the three. Kevin always blamed his former friend for the disillusion of his marriage. So, knowing this, there are some things which do not sit right.

First, and this is chalked up to coincidence, but at 12:01 am on Sunday morning, before anyone was aware of the murders, Nancy's death was announced on a wiki page. This has been explained away as a silly fan prank, but it's still odd. More worrisome are the statements from Chavo, which have made many people question the whole thing. We've already discussed that he had been in contact with Chris throughout the weekend. He's stated that during an early weekend call with Chris, someone came to the door; Chavo listened to what he would later describe as a scuffle, then the call disconnected. A few hours later Chris contacted his good buddy to say that all was well, and he ended the conversation with "I love you Chavo". This unnerved Chavo; he said that Chris sounded tired, and he was concerned for his friend. Again, Chavo and Chris had been very close, they hung out all the time. One of Chris's final texts to Chavo read, "My physical address is 130 Green Meadow Lane, Fayetteville Georgia. 30215". Why would Chris send his best buddy his address when Chavo knew exactly where he lived? Though I can not confirm this, it is reported that some of these texts were sent after Chris was already dead. Another bothersome fact, there were empty beer cans found near Chris's corpse, but autopsy concluded that the wrestler had not been drinking. So, who drank all of that beer? And do you remember the neighbor lady, Holly Schrepfer? She claims to have seen another wrestler near the Benoit home during this weekend, a wrestler who had absolutely no reason to be there. If all of this weren't enough, these murders took place on the 10th anniversary of Kevin and Nancy's divorce!

Now I'm not giving my opinion on this case, just telling you what I found during my research. That said, one thing is for sure: it doesn't appear that police conducted a thorough investigation of the case. It was automatically deemed a family annihilator situation, and that was that; Nancy's family claims that the police had left behind suitcases of steroids; these definitely should've been seized during the a search of the home. If they missed illegal substances, what else didn't they pick up on?

http://www.ign.com/boards/threads/24-reasons-that-will-prove-that-chris-benoit-is-innocent.453787849/

Out of this entire case, one fact chilled me to the bone when researching this case. You'll find very little mention of it, but young Daniel had a large kitchen knife tucked under his pillow at the time of his death. Why would a 7 year old boy be sleeping with a knife? Was he afraid, and if he was, of who? What did that child know, what had he witnessed during this weekend of hell? Had he been aware of his mama's murder, was he aware that he was next?

*There's much, much more to this, I could be here writing for a few more days but I wanna go ahead and post this. If you'd like to jump down this vast rabbit hole with me, here's a link to get you started. You gotta check the facts with links like these, but this one will get you started. Let me know what you think!

[cliquestitsandicks]

Tracking Kat

Episode 1: Kat is mourning the end of her relationship with Adena. It has been 5 weeks since the breakup in Paris. She's still looking at old pictures of them and posted one. She still hasn't sent Adena's equipment to her, even though Adena has been texting her asking for it. By the end of the episode, she's admitted to (in order) Alex, Patrick, and Jane & Sutton that she is not okay. She is still sad about the end of her relationship. Alex tells her "you're so hard on yourself. You got your heart broken. There's no expiration date on heartbreak. You move on when you're ready to move on and when you *are* ready, you will find someone amazing. Someone who will never leave." Then Patrick is an entitled, invasive dick. She told her girls she wasn't ready for it to be real yet and that's why she hadn't told them... but she broke down in front of them. She'd finally accepted it was over. End of the episode, she makes an instagram post exposing her vulnerability to the world and packs up Adena's things for good.

Episode 2: Kat injects Jane for fertility treatment. She is very familiar with Jane's reproductive system at this point - best friends. She learns the Wild Susan, a club Adena took her to that became a safe space she frequents and which happens to be 1 of only TWO lesbian bars in the city, is closing. She learns the only reason it's happening is because developers want to gentrify the neighborhood. We learn Kat has a lawyer (not sure how that may come up later) that she met through the #BeReal campaign. Anyway, Kat throws a queer prom as a fundraiser to help save the Wild Susan. It ultimately fails because $42,000 in one night from poor people is a bit much. But it was a valiant effort and, as Kat learns, the gentrifiers were well aware of its impossibility. This episode is leading up to her political career. "I've been so into my feelings lately, it feels really good to challenge my energy into something that really matters". I am so proud of Kat. In Season 1, I would have worried she was avoiding her feelings, but the writers made a big deal of showing she's done the exact opposite of that in the prior episode.

Episode 3: Kat has been researching councilman Reynolds and he's a total piece of shit - helping gentrifiers, cutting funding to parks, and voting against paid maternity leave. She's fired up. Our girl is P A S S I O N A T E & informed! We meet the councilwoman for whom she plans to volunteer and her campaign manager, Tia. Tia's a tiny, bubbly boss with natural hair and a bright smile and we see Kat brighten up. We later learn she and Kat have more in common, both being NYU grads (actually overlapping while there) and both brilliant. Tia, however, is not from a wealthy and connected background. In their initial meeting, Kat tells Tia "I'm just looking for something to channel my rage and depression". Kat enlists her besties to help get the councilwoman to unseat problematic Reynolds. Sutton clearly sees something between Kat and Tia because she does a friend's background check (checking the social media) and tells Kat she looks very single to which Kat responds "it really doesn't matter because I'm still getting over Adena" and Jane seems skeptical of Kat's protestations with her silent smirk. We learn Kat has really soft lips. Kat is the voice of reason for Alex, being the first one to acknowledge the hypersexual "dangerous" Black man depiction that will likely be projected onto him if he admits he is the man in his friend's story. Then we see her naturally command the crowd at the rally. Again, I am so proud of Kat. She isn't holding back when she knows she should speak up. She's taking control of her narrative. She's fighting for what's right in a constructive manner. And now Tia, who has way more experience with this than Kat, is recommending she run for office.

Episode 4: We start the episode with Kat describing what would be her district and job description to her best friends. She's looking excited about the potential to do something that matters and really help people. In her conversation with the Toby (?. don't know, don't care), we get to see more of Tia being supportive of Kat and Kat being confronted with whether she's motivated to actually run or just wants someone to beat Reynolds. We learn Kat had an abortion in 2013 when she was 20 AS IS HER GOTDAMN RIGHT BECAUSE IT'S HER BODY, but it's something she's felt some sort of shame/concern over seeing as nobody close to her knew about it. Then, and this is so great, after telling her friends she has the conversation with Tia. Tia shares that she's had one as well and completely understands not wanting it to be public knowledge, but in sharing her experience educates Kat on yet another way vulnerable people are having their rights stripped, this time through manipulation and "crisis centers" that shouldn't exist. Tia remains supportive and doesn't pressure Kat at all with her decision. "I am by your side if they come for you, but you gotta do what's right for you". When we get that great speech from Jacqueline we see Kat being moved my the statement that you'll never know what you're capable of if you don't take a leap faith to face challenges that frighten you, then you'll never know what you're capable of. [i'd like to pause right now to say Jacqueline is fucking wonderful and i love her like my white auntie. also Sutton needed to hear that again just as much as Kat and i really appreciate this entire moment.] When Kat leaves Jacqueline's celebration, she passes by one of those "crisis centers" Tia told her about and decides to use her voice to help others. "I like to think of myself as a pretty strong, empowered, forward-thinking, open-minded woman. But, up until now, I haven't been able to talk about my abortion. If me putting myself out there helps even one woman to feel less alone, less ashamed, and less guilty then it's worth it." And just like us, dear Tia is blown away. She actually exhales a breath she didn't know she was holding and biiiiiiiitch (!!!! excitedly). and then they're dancing! This is the episode, upon rewatch, when i recognize how often Tia touches Kat unnecessarily.

Episode 5: Kat's entire recap includes Tia, ending with Sutton saying "she seems to be very single". Her very first scene, Tia is complimenting her walking out of some campaigning event we later learn was a Town Hall. Can we just talk about Kat's blazer for a second? First of all, i want it. Second, how did they find something so perfectly her? It's colorful but still semi-professional, fun, but still about her business. Heart-eye inducing. ok. So the next time we see Kat, she and Tia (whose last name they finally mention as Clayton) are reviewing campaign platform and doing debate prep at Kat's apartment. Tia's complimenting Kat almost continuously at this point. Clearly she's impressed, borderline gushing. and Kat tries to brush it off. Tia's not letting her. And there's this moment when Tia forces herself to break eye contact with her (around 5:40 of the episode). The show tells us Kat still hasn't dated since Adena, but Sutton brings up the "stupid smile" she gets whenever Tia's mentioned. She's making better decisions than Patrick and her being compared to Patrick is lowkey happening a lot. I'm starting to wonder if they're setting up Kat taking over digital if she doesn't win the campaign. Ok, the song choice as they pan to Kat and Tia... "I never normally check my phone 10 times in a minute. I'm not the girl to be kept on hold 10 miles from the finish." Again, Tia is very touchy with Kat, never anything inappropriate of course, but the hand is always on the back or the arm. and their interaction is just.. lovely. I squeal. it's so cute. they're so comfortable. Kat invites Tia to the dinner BEFORE (i got the timing on that mixed up before) Tia says she's "a boring straight girl" [the test determined that was a LIE... nah, my good sis Tia is dealing with some internalized homophobia which is no joking matter, but we don't learn that until the next episode]. Apparently, Kat can cook now? So she just liked Adena's food better i guess? idk... anyway. I get why some of the things Tia said can be taken as flirting, but i still believe that you accept what someone says is their sexuality until they say otherwise. yes, that's even when they're saying things like "when i see what i want, i go for it" and "Annndd she can cook. it's hot" and looking at you like that. Kat telling Jane to apologize because he's her boss and she got suuuper disrespectful and would absolutely deserve getting fired makes me proud. She's the mature friend now. She's the one with a level head on her shoulders. Kat finally makes her feelings known to Tia, but this is after Tia has already stated she's straight. Tia reiterates that this is a professional relationship and apologizes for Kat getting the wrong idea. I'm reminded of when Alex Danvers told Maggie Sawyer she was into her and she was rejected... but in that example i was floored and heartbroken for Alex because ugh, i just didn't see that coming. With this, however, it felt like Tia was clear in her words even if it shocked the hell out of me what the words were. So i didn't feel heartbroken for Kat. I thought... tbh... she brought it on herself for refusing to respect Tia's "no", however soft it was. But the writers did let us know it wasn't over with the music selection... Kat looking at "You and Tia make a great team :)" as "I'll go to war for you" plays.

Episode 6: All the emails have been released and Kat has no worries at all about that because she's a professional. And we get to see her be a boss addressing the entire group. Patrick isn't there this episode (YAY for our sanity!) and i think Kat being a boss so often when Patrick isn't around is intentional. When we see Tia, she says last night is forgotten but she thinks it's a bad idea to remain Kat's campaign manager... which is clearly a hard rejection. One can argue that it's too harsh for someone merely admitting they were into you. But it's just as easy to argue that it's appropriate after telling someone, very clearly, that you are not into them romantically and them ignoring that and saying that you were flirting with them on this date they never called a date before you were already there?? so i'm not mad at it. At the end of the episode, we find out that Tia was rejecting herself, not Kat. Turns out, Ms. Tia Clayton has known she's attracted to women since she was in high school, but she "didn't want to want it". Tia is so TINY AND ANXIOUS ABOUT HER SEXUALITY AND MANY OF US HAVE BEEN THERE. But... and i say this in jest... for someone who is really trying not to be out in the open with her gay, she sure was comfortable kissing Kat all outdoors for anyone to see. My good sis is smitten. I'm excited for the story. Again with the music during their scenes though... "I cannot fallll in love with youuuuu. I cannot feeeeel this way so soon, so soon." Also, my girlfriend and I have watched the gifset of the kiss over the phone and swooned (we live in different states for now). This episode, we also got the flashbacks (i missed Lauren so much). Kat's got red streaks in her hair, is a friend to strangers, has regrettable sex with men who taste like pickles, and is cute as a button. She also called Jacqueline "Mama Jackie" and that's it; that's her name now.