#sometimes we need to hear that its just a (completely valid) sexuality. and not something that should affect people who have crushes on you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

Text

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 10

I’m sorry its taken me so long to update. I haven't had much time to write lately due to....well, life. But here we are and its long, so hopefully that makes up for the length.

Side note- the Norwegian used is from Google translate so....

Warnings: swearing, mild sexual content, Lothbrok family dynamics (yes, its a warning), threats of violence

Words: 15,700 (yep, my longest chapter yet. I packed ALOT into this beast)

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe @ecarroll1978 @breezykpop @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

Series Masterlist

"Where are we going? I thought we were going to your flat?"

Gyda slyly smiled at Kari, sitting in the passenger seat of her bright yellow Porsche. "Change of plans."

Kari stared at her friend. "I'm scared to ask."

"Torvi asked for female reinforcement. So, we are going to keep her company."

"Ok…. But where is that?"

"At the brothers' house." The blonde answered nonchalantly as she made a quick right-hand turn. "It's tradition. Kind of a last family summer party before it's too cold to swim anymore. They have a pool in their backyard."

Kari felt her stomach drop. Ivar had told her he lived with his three other brothers. Gyda had her own flat while Bjorn and Torvi owned a house nearby. Whenever she tried to ask Ivar about his home, he would shrug off the question or ignore it completely. Eventually she just stopped asking. Curiosity certainly reared its head when she wondered what his home was like. For how much money meant nothing to him, she guessed it was massive and expensive. Maybe he knew she would not fit in and that was why he never brought her? Even through his speeches of wanting her to be his girlfriend, he knew she would not fit into his lifestyle. Why else would he keep her away? It was a valid truth that she had come to terms with. Even if she found herself secretly desperate to ease into his life, she never would.

"Of course, they do…." Kari rolled her eyes at the notion that obviously, there was a pool in their backyard. It fit the stereotype in her mind. Then she thought about what Gyda just said. "Wait. Do you have a swimsuit with you?"

Gyda raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at her while keeping her eyes on the road. "Don't worry, I've got you covered. Torvi brought an extra of hers for you."

"You had this planned, didn't you? We never were going to your flat, were we?"

"I don't kiss and tell."

"Yes, you do. There was that guy you hooked up with two weeks ago that kept sending you dick pics after."

"That guy was way too proud of his dick. I mean it wasn't even that big."

"I don't want to hear this again." Kari groaned, tugging on her diamond earring. She enjoyed Gyda but she had learned far more about the woman's sex life than she had any desire to know.

"Okay, fine. And yes, Torvi and I planned this. Ivar doesn't know you're coming."

"Why?"

Gyda smirked. "Because he's been so secretive and only Hvitserk has seen you two together. Besides, the rest of the brothers want to meet you. We may be at each other's throats most of the time but we do care for one another."

The brunette let her friend's words sink in. Hvitserk had mentioned the others wanting to meet her, but she had not fully believed it. Sure, she wanted to meet them and was curious after hearing Ivar talk about them, but why would they be interested in her? She glanced down at her clothes, the capri leggings and tank top that were practically a signature look for her. For once, she wished she dressed nicer regularly. "I wish you had said something before."

"You wouldn't have come then. You'd have created some excuse why you couldn't come." Gyda pointed out the obviously painful truth without remorse.

Kari slouched in the passenger seat, butterflies doing somersaults in her belly. Slowly, she pulled her ponytail down, letting her hair hang loose past her shoulders, running her hand through it absent-mindedly in hopes it looked decent.

At a red light, Gyda looked over at her with a bright smile. "It'll be fun."

"I don't know…. isn’t it supposed to be just family?"

"Ubbe sometimes brings his girlfriend but yeah, it's usually just family."

There was another long silence before Kari spoke again, unable to fully conceal her nerves. "You should drop me off and just go. I don't want to intrude."

"You're not. I'm bringing you because there is always way too much testosterone." Gyda groaned, then reached over and swatted Kari's leg. "What are you so worried about?"

"What if they don't like me?" She whispered. The weight of her confession hung over her like a dark cloud.

"What?"

She kept her gaze out the window. "The…. the others. What if they don't like me?"

Gyda laughed. "Kari, don't worry. They will love you. I promise. And if they say anything fucking stupid, I'll slap them or Ivar will stab them. See? Simple."

A smile grew on Kari's face. "That shouldn't make me feel better…. but for some reason it does." Maybe she had already spent too much time with various Lothbroks if the idea of people resorting to violence made her feel better.

"You aren't alone, if anything we'll steal Torvi and Asa away and have a girls' party."

"Asa? That's her daughter, right?"

"Right, and Hali is her son. I swear that boy is going to be a miniature version of Bjorn."

"I've never been around kids much."

Gyda chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "They are great, Asa is a sweetie who prefers to cuddle in someone's lap. It's Hali who is a bit wild but all his uncles love to play with him. He'll probably be swimming in the pool the whole time anyway."

Still staring out the window, Kari thought about everything Gyda had said. Of course, she was still nervous about just showing up to a family event unannounced, even if she was sort of being kidnapped by Gyda. Some of her nerves faded away with the knowledge that Gyda and Torvi both wanted her there. She really would not be alone. She had friends. She had people that wanted to spend time with her. Hopefully Ivar would be pleased to see her. His potential reaction was the only real wrinkle in her fluctuating confidence.

"Okay. I can do this." She said aloud, wondering if she was trying to fully convince herself.

"Good, cause we're almost there."

Kari stared out the window as they approached a gated community. Gyda showed her ID to a guard who chatted with her like they were old friends. As the yellow Porsche drove by the houses in the community, Kari just stared in awe. She had seen houses, mansions was a better term, like these before but it always amazed her that people lived in them. What did they do with all that space? All of the homes were set back from the road so Kari only caught glimpses of them but it was enough to remind her how out of her element she was.

Finally, they pulled up a long driveway to a massive two-story house. It was white with an insane number of windows, and a huge garage attached on the left side. On the right side looked like an expansive addition that made Kari wonder why they needed more space. The roof was made of some slate gray tiles, with a balcony above the front door and ivy draping elegantly over the corners. There were various sized potted plants and shrubbery around the front of the house and leading down the sides. Several European beech trees were strategically placed in the front yard to block most of the view from the road in an attempt at privacy. Whoever the grounds keeper was, for surely they had one, needed a raise.

Kari could only gape for a long moment, unable to move as she took in the immaculate, beautiful house. To think this was where Ivar lived and he always came over to her tiny townhouse. It was a struggle to tamper down the post embarrassment.

Gyda started talking as she parked in front of the house. The only other vehicle in sight was a silver four-door Audi, that Kari recognized as Torvi's. "Aslaug chose the house for them. When she isn't traveling for work or staying at their family home in Norway, this is where she stays. So, she insisted on this place. Something about the natural sunlight and old aesthetic blending with the new vibe. Or some other shit. I can't remember."

"Huh." Kari said as she followed the blonde out of the car. She noticed there was no mention of the father, Ragnar, and wondered where he stayed but knew it was none of her business so she kept her question to herself. Maybe Ivar would explain it to her.

Gyda opened the solid, wood front door, waltzing in like she had done this a million times. Kari took two steps in and froze. The vaulted ceiling in the foyer was enough to stare at but it was the large chandelier that caused her to stare. The way it caught the afternoon light through the many windows and gently cast it about was truly gorgeous. This view was worth owning the house for itself, in her opinion.

A tugging on her arm made Kari squeak as she found herself suddenly being dragged along like a ragdoll.

"You can stare later, Torvi is waiting for us." Gyda stated, a large purse over her shoulder and her heeled boots clicking on the shiny, wood floor with each step.

Kari caught glimpses of other rooms as they passed down the long, straight hallway. A living room with a TV that took up most of the wall it was on. A kitchen that would make any celebrity chef drool. Pictures and awards displayed along the walls in the hallway that were obviously put up by their mother.

The two finally stepped out into a room with glass walls, where the pool and expansive backyard lay before them. Most likely what used to be a porch before being enclosed. Still being pulled along, Kari followed Gyda through a side door onto the stamped concrete that surrounded the pool and lounge area. A pool in a rectangle shape dominated the area, a diving board on the far end. A quick glance around showed a jacuzzi on the other side, closer to the house, the water bubbling like a cauldron. There was a large grill, several short tables and lounge chairs spread over the stamped concrete. At the far end was an adult size statue of the Buddha with two flowering pots on either side of him and some kind of cheap, plastic crown on his head.

The backyard was several acres wide and at least that many in length. Trees and large shrubs blocked the views of the neighbor's properties and made the place feel almost like a hidden oasis. Further down in a corner was a lovely gazebo with a cobbled stone path leading to it and gardens decorating the way.

"Gyda! What took you so long?!" A distinctly male voice called out.

"I had to pick up a package." She called back, pulling Kari into full view of the others.

The brunette gave a small, self-conscious smile at the many pairs of eyes that she could feel land on her. Before she could really get a good look at who was around, a shout of her name startled her.

"Kari!" Hvitserk jumped up from his lounge chair, wearing only dark green swim trunks, and walked over to her with a beaming smile.

"Hey…. OH!" She started to greet him only to be swallowed into a hug and spun in a circle. Unable to deny him, she hugged him back and laughed. It was funny since last time she saw him, he was in business attire, coming to check on her per Ivar's instructions. Now she could not help but notice his toned body. His form reminded her more of a runner, while she was used to seeing Ivar's muscular torso. A couple tattoos on Hvitserk caught her eye and she wondered if all the brothers had them.

When he finally set her back on her feet, he kept his hands on her shoulders, green eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. "I didn't know you were coming here."

"Yeah, I didn't know either until Gyda told me on the way."

He chuckled, glancing over her head to his half-sister. "Yeah, not surprising."

"Uh huh. Watch yourself, boy. I could still beat your ass if I wanted too." Gyda quipped.

"Maybe fifteen years ago. You don't have a chance now."

"Keep telling yourself that, Hvitty." She teased, then yelled at Torvi. "You got it?"

As soon as Kari was released by Hvitserk, she could sense a pair of sharp, blue eyes boring into her. Skin prickling under the sensation, she hesitantly looked up and immediately met Ivar's intense gaze right away, as if subconsciously her mind already knew where he was without having to search for him.

Reclined back on a cushioned, lounge beach chair, he wore loose black sweatpants, instead of swim trunks, under his leg braces, but without a shirt. His tattoos were a stark contrast on his skin and shamelessly on full display. Her fingers twitched with the urge to trace them again. It was his penetrating gaze though, the lack of emotion on his handsome face, that made her wonder if being here was a bad idea.

Before she could make a run for it, Gyda grabbed her arm as if sensing her desire to flee. "C'mon, let's get changed."

With one last glance at Ivar, she followed behind Gyda and Torvi, who had joined them, back into the massive house. They headed to the kitchen and Gyda pointed out a bathroom across the way.

Placing the beach bag on the kitchen counter, Torvi dug in it for a moment before murmuring a quiet "here it is" and handed Kari something. "Here. I bought this forever ago but never wore it. Bjorn said he didn't like the colors."

Kari took it, guessing it was the promised swimsuit, and peeked down at the two pieces of clothing in her hands. "Um…. where’s the rest of it?"

Laughing, Gyda rolled her eyes. "Get in there and change or I'll do it for you."

With a concerned look between the swimsuit in her hands and the two blondes staring at her expectantly, Kari finally conceded defeat and stepped into the bathroom. It was only a half bath, with a toilet and sink, but it was still roomy and felt fancy somehow. The mirror above the sink was large and there was a small, pretty flowering plant on the counter that upon inspection, turned out to be real.

Quickly, she changed out of her leggings and tank top and into the swimsuit, figuring it was best that way, like ripping off a band-aid. Plus, if she stopped moving, her nerves would get the better of her and she would somehow find a way to sneak home. Even if she had to crawl through a window. A smile grew on her face remembering Hvitserk's enthusiasm to see her. That had honestly surprised her but she found she did not mind. Hvitserk seemed like a good guy and the little bit of time they had spent together, she felt comfortable with him. He was funny and caring.

Then Ivar's blank face came to mind and all of her excitement slipped away like water down a drain. There had been no acknowledgement, not even the hint of a smile, only a hard stare that made her anxious and self-conscious.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to remind herself what Gyda said. At least the two Lothbrok women wanted her here, and apparently Hvitserk was happy to see her. That was what she needed to focus on and not Ivar's reaction.

Once done changing, she finally took stock of what Torvi had leant her and gasped.

"Oh no. No, no, no. Hell no."

She stared down at the wide-band bikini. The top and bottom both had alternating white and light pink stripes, strangely reminding her of cotton candy. The design was certainly something she would never pick out for herself but she did not hate it. The real problem was the way half her ass cheeks hung out of the bottoms and more of her breasts saw the light of day than they ever had before. Never had she been so exposed. Even swimsuits she bought in the past were never this revealing. Her gaze immediately zeroed in on her fuller hips and thighs, fully exposed. Faint whispers that sounded like her mother's taunts echoed in the recesses of her mind as she stared at herself. There was no way she could go out in this. She would rather wear her leggings and tank top than have anyone see her wearing this. They would all laugh at her.

"Kari? You done yet?" Torvi called through the door.

"I'm…. I’m not coming out in this!"

"Let us see it first!" Gyda shot back.

"But…." Kari tried once again, unsuccessfully, to tuck her breasts into the bikini top. "It's padded!"

"Open this door, Kari." Gyda demanded, suddenly sounding closer.

She took one more look at herself, feeling the embarrassed tears welling in her eyes. With a deep breath, knowing she could not escape Gyda just yet, she opened the door. Immediately her blue-green eyes scanned to make sure it was only Gyda and Torvi in the kitchen before she further opened the door so they could see.

"Shit, Kari, you look great." Gyda said after giving a wolf whistle.

"Half of my butt is hanging out and most of my boobs. I can't wear this out there." She said, almost panicking now.

"No, they aren't, you're overexaggerating."

"Kari," Torvi said kindly, drawing the brunette's frenzied attention, "you're more curvy than I am and let's be honest, your ass and tits are bigger than mine. I'd kill to have a body like yours. You look beautiful. But if you're uncomfortable, I think I have a cover you can wear over it."

"Please." She replied softly, hating how she sounded like a fearful child.

Torvi smiled at her. "I'll be right back."

Swiftly, Kari stepped back into the bathroom before Gyda could say anything. Her nerves felt alight and not in a good way. Grabbing her phone, she scrolled through her Pinterest, anything to distract herself from this nightmare. If it was just Gyda and Torvi seeing her in this, she might have been uncomfortable but she could tolerate it. Even with Ivar she might have shied away some but he always made her feel so desirable that she doubted her nerves would have lasted long. It was the thought of prancing around in this in front of the other brothers, men she had never met, that made her stomach twist into knots and her breathing quicken painfully.

Finally, a gentle knock on the door and a quiet, "It's me," had Kari open it to take the cover from Torvi. It was a solid white oversized V-neck cover with a simple pattern around the neckline. Without wasting a moment, she slipped it on over the bikini, immediately feeling better. The hem of the cover touched the tops of her thighs, higher than she would have liked, but it was better than before.

She looked up, running her hands over the cover. "Thank you."

Torvi smiled softly with understanding. "I understand. I don't wear swimsuits that show my stomach anymore. Stretch marks." She shrugged casually, moving back to slip onto an island stool.

Kari trailed behind her with her bundle of clothes and purse. Without a word, Gyda slipped into the bathroom to change, leaving the other two waiting for her. It was now that Kari really took note of Torvi's swimsuit; it was a classy black and white one piece with thin crisscross straps across the back. The blonde could easily wear a bikini and look amazing in it, but it made Kari feel marginally better that she was not the only one self-conscious about her body. Perhaps that was why Torvi shared about her stretch marks?

"Is it…." Kari started then stopped, leaning against the black marble countertop. Surveying the grand kitchen for a second, hoping to gather her thoughts, she took a deep breath before continuing. "Is it okay that I'm here? Gyda said this is a family event and I don't want to intrude."

Torvi turned to face her fully, green eyes gazing at her before she shrugged again. "Normally we try to keep it just family, Ubbe sometimes brings Margrethe, but I doubt anyone will be upset you're here. Honestly, the brothers keep asking about you, so now maybe they will finally shut up and stop teasing Ivar."

Kari fiddled with the hem of the swimsuit cover. "He didn't seem happy to see me."

"Ivar?" At Kari's nod, Torvi snorted. "I don't think it's you he's upset with. He's a very private person, as I'm sure you know. If I took a guess, I'd say he was keeping you hidden."

"But why?"

"Look, I've known the Lothbroks for about ten years and during that time, I've seen Ivar go through some ups and downs…. well, as much as he lets anyone see. I mostly heard it from Bjorn. Point is, he's allowing you into his inner circle. Hell, you're probably at the center of his inner circle. I saw how he acted with you at the yoga studio. You mean something to him. It's no secret he wants you to be his girlfriend. Maybe he is worried that you'll meet his family and decide we're too much or that you find one of his brothers more attractive or easier to deal with? He pretends to be super confident but it wouldn't be the first time that a woman chose one of the others over him."

Every time Kari heard that, her heart broke once again for Ivar. How many times had he been overlooked because of his legs? Or his harsh demeanor? Something that she was beginning to realize was just to protect himself, to keep others at arm's length. It made her want to hug him and never let him go, to remind him he was more than just his disability. That he was worth being cared about by more than just family.

Kari must have been lost in her thoughts for longer than she realized. Suddenly she was drawn out of her inner musings by Gyda coming out of the bathroom, having changed into a plant print cutout tankini. Of course, looking like she just stepped out of a magazine cover. There had to be something in the Lothbrok blood for everyone to be this damn attractive.

"Are we ready?" She asked, her large bag in hand, presumably with her clothes in it. "Kari, you can put your stuff in here for now."

Torvi touched Kari's shoulder. "Don't worry. If anything, you are here to keep me and Gyda company, okay?"

Kari smiled, finding herself reassured and grateful for the two women. "Thanks." She slipped her clothes and shoes into Gyda's bottomless bag. They stashed their bags in the glass room and then headed back out into the backyard.

Soon as they stepped out, a little girl came running over. Torvi swept her up into her arms gracefully. She turned to Kari with the little blonde girl on her hip. "This is Asa. How old are you, Asa?"

The little girl stared at her mom before shyly tucking her face into the crook of Torvi's neck, while her blue eyes stayed on Kari. After a moment, she held up two fingers.

"You're two?" Kari asked. When the little girl shyly nodded, Kari's smile widened. "I wish I was that old. It's nice to meet you, Asa. I'm Kari."

Torvi pressed a quick kiss to the top of her daughter's head. "Did daddy let you play in the pool yet?"

Asa shook her head.

"Alright, let's go kick his butt. He did promise, didn't he?"

That made the little girl giggle and Kari could feel her heart melting slightly. She was just too cute and most likely spoiled by all her uncles. Even her swimsuit was a purple halter top and green bottom with a little skirt that was very The Little Mermaid-esque.

A happy scream followed by a splash drew Kari's gaze to the pool. A young boy resurfaced laughing loudly. Bjorn, she recognized, was in the pool also, but turned to look up at Torvi as she approached with Asa on her hip.

"Let's go sit down." Gyda slipped her arm through Kari's and pulled her along to where there was a grouping of lounge chairs. Ivar, Hvitserk and a curly-haired blond reclined with beers in hand.

Kari could feel Ivar's gaze tracing over her form as she approached, like fingers trailing over her skin leaving a fire in its wake. She sneaked a peek at him, only to find his ardent gaze on her. She blushed and kept her eyes downward. At least he did not look impassive anymore, but she still felt hesitant.

"Hey boys. What are we drinking this time?" Gyda questioned.

Hvitserk turned the beer bottle to show the label.

"Ew. I don't why you drink that shit. I'm going to get some wine. Kari, you want some?"

"Ah, sure." She murmured.

"Good. You boys be nice to my friend, especially you Ivar." With that Gyda walked back towards the house but not before giving Kari a subtle wink.

"Take a seat, Kari." Hvitserk gestured to an open chair next to him.

For a split second she considered slinking into the seat, anything for the attention to be taken off her, but realized that was not what she actually wanted. It had been two days since she had seen Ivar and the last time they hung out, it was when he returned from his trip to Italy. He had picked her up the next day to take her out to eat but he ended up spending the majority of the time on his phone, yelling into it in a foreign language and seeming on the verge of throwing his phone or punching a wall. She ended up ordering take-out for them that they ate at her townhouse but he was too wired to really relax and left soon after. The next two days he had been busy with work so they could only text. The one time they managed to Face-Time, she could not help but notice his bruised knuckles and when she asked him about them, he said he did some boxing to release stress.

With butterflies doing somersaults in her belly, she took a step closer to stand near Ivar's lounge chair. Tugging on the hem of her cover as she quietly spoke. "Hey, Ivar. Can I sit with you?"

"Oh, you're acknowledging me now?" He snapped, never removing his severe blue eyes off of her.

She blinked owlishly, surprised by his sharp tone. Her stomach dropped to her feet and she could feel an embarrassed flush rising on her cheeks. "Yeah, I'm sorry." She whispered, dropping her chin, unable to meet his eyes anymore. This was all a mistake, she knew it. This only sealed her poor decision.

Shifting to look back at the house, she wondered if she should find Gyda and beg to drive her back home, or if she should find the closest bus stop. Before she could take a step away, a calloused hand snatched hers in a firm grip. Startled, she looked down to see Ivar holding her hand. Her eyes jumped up to stare at him in shock, confused by his conflicting actions. In those vivid, expressive eyes she could easily read the regret in them. Without her conscious decision, her heart softened.

"Sit." He said quietly, what most likely meant to come out commanding but sounded more as a plea. She nodded and allowed him to guide her onto the wide lounge chair next to him.

A furious blush warmed her cheeks when Ivar wrapped an arm around her waist, tucking her into his side and pressing a quick kiss to her temple. What she assumed was his nonverbal apology.

"Hey, this is Sigurd." Hvitserk said, gesturing to the unknown blond sitting with them. "I don't think you've met him yet. Ubbe had to take a call, so you'll meet him later."

"Hi, it's nice to meet you." She said, looking at the other Lothbrok. He had light blond, curly hair in frazzled braids and brown eyes. At first glance she would not have guessed he was one of the brothers, but she figured genetics were always weird. He had a lean body similar to Hvitserk with a tribal tattoo sleeve and a Thor's hammer necklace laying on his bare chest like the other brothers wore.

He silently raised his beer bottle at her, still stretched out in his chair like a lazy cat in the sun.

Thoughtfully she peered up at Ivar, keeping her voice low. "I'm sorry, I didn't know Gyda was bringing me here otherwise I'd have told you. She literally didn't tell me until we were pulling up."

"It's fine." He murmured evenly, but Kari got the feeling that was not how he truly felt.

"Do….do you want me to leave?"

He sighed, his grip around her tightening for a moment, before he seemed to relax. "No. I'm glad you're here. It won't be boring…." a wolfish grin grew as he slid his hand up her exposed thigh sensually, ".... especially if you take off this cover and let me see what's underneath."

"No!" She squeaked, grabbing his roving hand before it could migrate further.

He chuckled. "Come on, kitten…. just a peek?"

"Ivar, no."

"Why not?"

"Its…. it’s scandalous."

Hvitserk raised his hand, a devious smirk on his face. "I want to see."

She covered her face with her hands, embarrassment flooding her. "Oh gods, this was such a bad idea." Then she had to rapidly grasp Ivar's hand as it slipped under the swimsuit cover to caress her hip and trace her bikini bottom. "Ivar…."

"Fine." He slipped his hand back out but splayed it over her exposed thigh. "You can show me later."

Thankfully, Gyda reappeared with a glass of white wine in each hand and another blond male in tow who carried the wine bottle. He had short, cropped hair and a muscular body that spoke of many hours in the gym. Kari wondered if this was the brother that Ivar regularly worked out with.

"Why are you sitting with Ivar? I brought you here! I'm even bringing you wine!" Gyda teased, handing a glass to Kari.

"You also dragged me here unknowingly. Wine is the least you could do." Kari said without thinking, making the others laugh.

"You know damn well you're happy to be here." Gyda winked then took the open lounge chair next to her. "Right, I'm guessing you've been introduced to Sigurd." She flicked a hand in the curly-haired Lothbrok's direction followed by vaguely gesturing to the last unknown brother. "Now this pain in my ass, over here, is Ubbe. Ubbe, this is Kari."

Sitting between Hvitserk and Gyda, Ubbe rolled his blue eyes but leaned forward to shake Kari's hand. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Yeah, likewise."

Ubbe sat back with an impish glint in his eyes. "So, you're Ivar's girl?"

"Um…. we’re just..." She started, unsure what to say to his family.

Ivar broke in, his single word answer almost coming out in a growl. "Yes."

She whipped her head to look at him, only for him to stare her down as if waiting to see if she could refute his claim. Logically, she knew she should say something, argue that they were only friends. Yet any rebuttal died on her tongue under his fierce gaze. Instead she chose to sip on her wine generously.

"Right." Ubbe finally said, watching the two with an amused look.

Sigurd scoffed loudly before taking a swig of his beer.

"Something you want to say, Sig?" Ivar turned narrowed eyes at his brother.

The curly-haired brother smirked, seeming to debate saying anything. Finally, he sat up and his gaze zeroed in on Kari. "How much does he pay you to fuck him?"

The reaction from those around was instantaneous. Next to her, Ivar tensed, ready to spring up and fight his brother. A sharp reprimand of "Sigurd!" came from both Gyda and Ubbe while Hvitserk pinched the bridge of his nose.

Something rose up inside Kari though. She understood enough to know about the animosity between Sigurd and Ivar. His comment felt more like a cruel jab at Ivar than her. She was just the pathway to try and cause torment between the brothers. But if no one else was going to stand up and defend the dark-haired Lothbrok, she would.

So instead of taking his words personally, she just smiled sweetly at Sigurd, placing a hand on Ivar's thigh as she responded. "He doesn't. I'm happy to do it for free. Besides, he has something you never will."

"And what's that?"

"A cock big enough to pleasure someone….is that why you go through girlfriends so quickly?"

The rising tension evaporated in a flash. Gyda snorted so hard she almost dropped her wine glass. Hvitserk threw his head back laughing while Ubbe tried to cover his smile with his hand. Kari was sure her eyes were comically wide as what she said without thinking sunk in. Her face flushed and she pressed her face against Ivar's shoulder. Sure, she had meant to defend Ivar but she had not meant to be so crass. The statement seemed to fly out of her mouth before her brain could catch up.

Next to her, Ivar laughed as he nuzzled her. She squirmed under his onslaught but also at realizing she just insulted one of Ivar's brothers. Even if it was the one he liked least of all. For a fleeting moment, the idea she had just made herself an enemy crossed her mind.

When she sneaked a peek, Sigurd quickly drained the rest of his beer and walked away murmuring something about getting another one.

"I think you'll fit in, Kari." Ubbe stated, still trying unsuccessfully to hide his amusement.

Kari was unsure of that. She quickly took a large sip of the wine to settle her fraying nerves. What had she been thinking? It hurt to hear Ivar's brother being so blatantly cruel to him and if this was a regular occurrence, no wonder Ivar wanted to spend most of their time at her place.

"I didn't realize you liked my cock so much, kattungen." Ivar whispered salaciously into her ear, drawing her back to the present. His tongue flicked her earlobe, making her jolt. "I think I'll have to give you a reward later."

She shivered at his tone, her core clenching without resistance. It was unfair how just at his husky tone alone, her body betrayed her desire. But they were in public though, in front of his family no less, so she willfully attempted to cool the heat warming her veins. With a smile, she tried to nudge him away from her but he was too strong, only tightening his grip on her and laying a quick kiss to her neck.

"I can't believe I said that." She whispered, hoping only he heard her.

He smirked, an unmistakable fire in his eyes. "It was sexy as fuck."

Thankfully, Torvi came over to join the group, a welcome distraction for Kari as she was sure the fire in Ivar's gaze was enough to set her ablaze and further stoke her own heat.

Torvi settled into Sigurd's now absent spot. "What did I miss?"

"Kari said Ivar's cock is bigger than Sigurd's." Hvitserk stated smugly.

Torvi stared at Kari with a tilt of her head and an amused grin. "Really? And how did we get on the subject of dicks already?"

Some of the group laughed as Kari covered her face once again, mortified that she was the center of attention because of what she thoughtlessly said. She had the sneaking suspicion none of them would ever let her live this down.

"Alright, enough. Come on, it's girl time now." Gyda grabbed Kari's hand and dragged her to her feet, much to Ivar's obvious chagrin. She scoffed, meeting her half-brother's gaze. "I'll give her back later."

The three women wandered over to some open chairs further down from the guys and closer to the Buddha statue. Gyda carried the wine bottle and her glass while Kari carefully held her own glass. Torvi snatched a beer from a nearby cooler as they meandered over. Gyda settled on a single, lounge chair adjacent to a cushioned two-person seat which the other two sat on.

"Alright, we have a very serious matter to discuss. Your answer may or may not break our friendship." Gyda started, leaning forward as she pointed a single finger at the brunette.

Kari found herself straightening in her seat, hand clutching her wine glass tighter.

Eyes intent, Gyda's voice dropped conspiringly. "Who is sexier: Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes?"

Shock rendered Kari momentarily speechless. At Gyda's serious tone, she had imagined a topic that would involve confessing a secret, not…. not a movie franchise. "Um…. Bucky." She hesitantly answered.

"Yes!!" Gyda shouted, throwing her arms up and almost spilling her wine. "I knew I liked you! Ivar, she is mine now!"

Kari laughed at her enthusiasm; all concern having vanished instantly. "I take it you like him too?"

"Hell yeah. I would willingly choke on his cock or he could pound my pussy to pulp and I wouldn't complain either way."

Torvi shook her head, a hint of a smile tilting the corners of her lips up. "Something's wrong with you."

"You prefer Steve?" Kari inquired, once she recovered from choking on air at Gyda's blunt statement. Her friend always had a way of surprising her, and giving her second-hand embarrassment.

Torvi shrugged. "A tall, handsome blond. That's my kind of man."

Peeking over at Bjorn who was still playing in the pool with both kids, Kari hummed thoughtfully. "Huh. Makes sense."

"No wonder you are with Ivar if you prefer Bucky Barnes."

"But we aren't…. together." Kari fixed her eyes on her wine, knowing her answer sounded lame even to her own ears.

Gyda patted her leg. "You keep telling yourself that."

"We're just friends."

"No, you aren't."

"Kari, it's fine." Torvi shot Gyda a look. "It's between you two, it's not really our business."

"She's our friend!" Gyda whined, throwing herself back in her seat dramatically.

"And she will let us know if something changes. Including telling us if Ivar does something stupid and we need to kick his ass."

Kari giggled as Torvi tapped her beer bottle against her wine glass. "I promise. Hvitserk already made me swear too."

"Good. So is Ivar really that good in bed?"

"Gyda!" Kari exclaimed but laughed at how shameless her friend was.

Torvi thankfully changed the topic of conversation to Ubbe's birthday coming up next month. Asa wandered over, wrapped in a green and brown towel with long ears sticking out that made her look like baby Yoda. When Sigurd eventually appeared, Hali dragged him to the pool where they jumped in together. Not long after, Hvitserk joined them, doing a cannon-ball with the splash almost hitting the ladies.

Kari chatted with Torvi and Gyda for some time, enjoying herself immensely. The topics varied, but she never felt unincluded. More than once, she glanced over, only to find Ivar's gaze already on her. After the third time, he tipped his head to the side and patted the spot next to him. A not-so subtle invitation or demand, depending on how you looked at it.

A smile teased her lips and she nodded. She started to rise, with her second glass of wine in hand, when the sound of a loud "shit" from Gyda distracted her.

"What is she doing here?" Torvi quietly asked with an undertone of frustration.

Curious, Kari followed their gazes towards the door leading into the glassed-in porch. She was met with the sight of two blondes emerging in matching, white swimsuits that barely seemed to cover anything. Both strutted as if they were on a runway, while chatting with one another.

"Kari, go sit with Ivar." Gyda encouraged, snatching her hand and leading her back without a moment's hesitation towards where Ivar and Ubbe were still sitting. The wine was left forgotten on the side table.

"What's going on?" Kari asked in a hushed tone.

"Drama. I can't believe that bitch brought her. What was she thinking?"

"Gyda?"

She clicked her tongue but hurriedly whispered back. "That's Ivar's ex."

Surprise made Kari almost stumble but she managed to catch herself at the last second. Further explanations had to wait because they came upon the brothers at the same time the two blondes did. Soon as Kari was close enough, Ivar held out his hand, a sweet gesture, but she could see the tension and anger in the set of his shoulders and the thin line of his lips. Silently, he guided her to sit between his spread legs, arms banding around her waist and pulling her indecently close. For once though, she did not complain.

"Hey, baby." One of the blondes said in a sickly-sweet voice as she pressed a kiss to Ubbe's cheek. "Sorry we're late."

"It's fine." Ubbe slowly answered as he shifted his gaze to the other blonde. "I didn't know you were bringing someone."

"This is supposed to be family only." Gyda snapped, having dropped into her seat next to Ivar and Kari.

The blonde, who stood next to Ubbe still, narrowed her eyes at Kari. "Then why is she here?"

"That's Ivar's girlfriend." Ubbe answered.

"Uh, hi, I'm Kari." She decided to speak up, hoping introductions would somehow break the rising tension. At her words, Ivar momentarily dropped his head to kiss her shoulder. Unsure if his actions were encouraging or reprimanding, she laid her hands over his, which were still wrapped around her.

"Hmmm…. Margrethe." She replied flatly, with a pinched look, as if talking to Kari was beneath her. "I'm Ubbe's fiancé."

The other blonde smiled pleasantly as she looked Kari in the eye. "I'm Freydis. It's lovely to meet you."

"Yeah, nice to meet you too." Kari managed to say around the suddenly tightened grip around her waist. She would be a liar if she said she was not intimidated by Freydis. While both women were beautiful, something that seemed required to be in the presence of the Lothbrok family, Freydis was a step beyond that. With her doll-like features, lovely blue eyes and flawless skin, she was gorgeous. Kari could feel all her own insecurities screaming at her in the presence of Ivar's ex. How the youngest Lothbrok went from someone as stunning as Freydis to as girl-next-door as Kari, she had no idea….and it made her uncomfortable.

"What the fuck is she doing here?" Ivar demanded, ignoring Freydis' presence completely.

Margrethe rolled her eyes as her hand slowly stroked across Ubbe's shoulders. "I get bored and wanted to spend time with my best friend, so fuck off." She turned her head to look at Freydis beside her. "Come on, let's get something to drink."

After a quick kiss to Ubbe, the two headed back towards the house but not before Freydis glanced back at Ivar and Kari one last time.

Once they were far enough away, Gyda rounded on Ubbe, not even bothering to contain her ire. "Fiancé? Really, Ubbe?" She sneered.

"Hell no. I haven't proposed. I damn well don't plan to and she knows it."

"Why are you still with her? She's a greedy bitch."

"Gyda, I know you don't like her but she's still my girlfriend."

"Who the fuck knows why."

Ubbe turned his attention to Ivar. "I swear I didn't know she was bringing Freydis. I'd have told her not to come then."

"As long as she stays the fuck away from me, I don't give a shit." The dark-haired Lothbrok growled at his older brother.

The residual tension in the air was painful to abide in. It felt like a caged animal, pacing, waiting, ready for the moment to unleash a terrorizing attack.

"Hey, I have a question." Kari blurted out, unable to take the way the tension made her skin feel like it was being sunburned. Once Gyda and Ubbe shifted to watch her, she posed her question. "Ah, well, I've been wondering for a while but why don't you guys have bodyguards or something?"

Ivar snorted, brushing her hair over her shoulder to press his face into the crook of her neck, making her squirm although he did not relent his position.

It was Ubbe that answered with a wide grin. "Eh, we don't need them. We can handle ourselves."

"But you guys have drivers, isn't the next step to have bodyguards?"

"You worried for us?" Ivar whispered, nipping at her skin, only to soothe the spot with his tongue.

"I'm serious."

"Let's just say we know how to protect ourselves. Besides, no one is stupid enough to come after us." Ubbe concluded, raising his beer in a mock salute.

Gyda snickered. "This is why I stay out of the family business."

"You've no issue spending Father's money though." Ubbe retorted in a jovial way.

She shrugged and sent Kari a playful wink.

A minute later, Bjorn, Torvi and Asa came over, taking open seats with Asa sitting in Torvi's lap. Even though Kari had met Bjorn before, it still shocked her to see how much larger he was compared to the other brothers, both in size and physique. Now sitting next to Torvi, he appeared larger. With his long, braided ponytail and shaved sides, a short beard and sharp, blue eyes, he seemed quite formidable. Kari wondered briefly if that helped with the family business.

"See Kari there, she is the one who teaches yoga." Torvi softly said to Asa.

Asa peeked over at Kari, shyly smiling, still wrapped in her towel but with a juice box in hand.

"I bet if you ask nicely, she might show you something." Torvi said then looked up at Kari. "Lately she loves watching me do yoga at home. It's cute when she tries to do it with me."

Bjorn chuckled, slinging an arm over the back of his wife's chair. "And usually falls down onto her face."

"Hey, she's trying!" Torvi defended, elbowing Bjorn in the side.

Looking at the little girl across the circle of seats, Kari smiled. "Want me to show you something I've been working on? I'm not very good at it though, so if I fall over, you can laugh at me. I'll be laughing at myself too."

Asa nodded fervently, eyes wide in anticipation.

"What do you say?" Torvi tapped her daughter's nose.

Asa looked up at her mom then back to Kari. "Please." Even though it came out sounding more like "peas".

"Sure. I need to stretch some first." Kari stood up and immediately had to slap Ivar's hand away that prowled down the curve of her ass. She tried to glare at him over her shoulder, only to be met with a mock innocence. Overly aware of the eyes on her, she chose a spot nearby in the plush, green grass, trying to keep her nerves to a minimum. Carefully, she warmed up her muscles, doing a few simple stretches so as not to hurt herself. Honestly, she was nervous since she never did advanced poses in front of others. It was not that she was unable to, for she did them frequently at home on her own time. It just felt like she was vying for attention or trying to show off when she did advanced poses in view of others. Conflicting memories of her grandmother's encouraging voice fought with her mother's reprimand in her mind as she stretched.

"What are you going to do?" Gyda called over, returning from retrieving her wine glass and bottle.

The question pulled her from her mind's internal war, bringing her back to the present. "Um, it's called the super soldier."

"Oooo, I like it already."

Once stretched, Kari stood frozen for a moment realizing she was going to need to take her cover off to do the pose.

"Kari, you look sexy as hell, now take the damn cover off." Gyda called out.

Kari hesitated, fears and insecurities rising afresh within her.

"Do it or Ivar will get his ass up and help you. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"I hate you." She mumbled but gave in. Slowly, she walked back over to the circle of chairs, pulling the white cover off and dropped it on the lounge chair Ivar still sat on. Her eyes briefly flickered up only to meet Ivar's smoldering gaze. Instantly, she could feel herself flush. Hoping no one noticed, she moved back to her grassy spot. A loud wolf-whistle came from the direction of the pool, most likely from Hvitserk but Kari ignored it, knowing if she thought about it too much, she would make a run for it. Mentally preparing herself, she pulled her hair back into a bun on the nape of her neck, then faced the group but kept her gaze downward, too scared to look at them.

After taking a deep breath, she bent over to lay her hands flat on the grass without bending her knees. Next, she hooked her right shoulder behind her knee and extended her left arm for balance. She took a long, deep breath before continuing onward. Then she lifted her left foot and grabbed it with her right hand, still tucked behind her right leg. After another deep breath, she pulled her left leg up until her knee was pointed towards the sky. She held it there for three breaths before slowly releasing her leg back down and carefully straightening back up.

A small round of applause greeted her when she straightened.

"Another!"

"You go, Kari!"

"Do another one!"

Blushing furiously at the cheers, she leaned forward into downward facing dog. Carefully, she slid her hands forward until her elbows touched the grass with her ass still in the air. Taking a deep breath and hoping she did not make a fool of herself, she engaged her core and kicked her legs up so she was doing a handstand but still on her elbows. Once she felt stable, she pressed her legs together and slowly bent her knees until they were almost parallel with her forearms on the ground. Feeling the burn in her core and arms, she hoped she could finish the pose without falling on her face. Next, she lowered her legs, knees apart now and big toes touching until her feet touched the top of her head. She could not help the smile that stretched across her face as she held the pose for a couple seconds, making sure to breathe slow. Scorpion pose was one she was still trying to master on her own, let alone in front of others. If anything, this felt like a victory for her. Methodically she unfurled, bringing her legs up and then back to the ground.

When she finally stood up, brushing the grass off her forearms, it was to another round of applause.

"That was amazing!" Torvi said.

"I was thinking sexy as fuck!" Hvitserk exclaimed, a smile on his face from where he now stood, leaning against Ubbe's chair.

Self-consciously, Kari tugged on her swimsuit, making sure everything was tucked into place, as much as it could be, before pulling her hair out of the bun. She walked back over to the lounge chair quickly and yanked the cover back over her body.

"I'm going to wash my hands." She said without meeting anyone's eyes, skirting around the group and heading towards the glassed-in porch.

Laughter erupted behind her as she approached the door but she ignored it as she walked inside. She padded through the porch, stomach twisting in knots, and turned into the kitchen. Her feet stuttered to a halt as she noticed Margrethe and Freydis standing there with bottles of something in hand. For a split second she thought about turning and heading to the bathroom but it was too late as the two blondes noticed her intrusion.

"Hi, I just need to wash my hands." Kari explained. After a moment's hesitation, she walked around the opposite side of the massive island from them and towards the kitchen sink.

"So, you're Ivar's girlfriend?" Margrethe stated with a mocking undertone. "I didn't think someone like you was his…. type."

"Margrethe…." Freydis chided.

"What? Look at her. I mean she's got tits and an ass, and I guess she could be pretty but that's it."

"I'm sorry." Freydis apologized kindly. After a long, awkward pause where the kitchen was silent besides Kari washing her hands, she asked, "How long have you and Ivar been together?"

"Um, we aren't…. we’re just friends." Kari found herself admitting, as she finished drying her hands and turned around to see them both staring at her. Though Freydis had a gentle smile on her face, Margrethe looked nothing less than the cat that caught the canary and planned on lording it over everyone.

"Oh?"

"See. Told you, Dis. He is still single." Margrethe smugly said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "He's just playing the game."

"Game?" Kari muttered aloud.

Freydis set her glass down and came around the island to stand in front of Kari. Her blue eyes were bright as they met Kari's. "You seem like a nice girl and clearly the others like you too. So, I'll be honest because I don't want you to get caught up in the Lothbrok drama and get hurt. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Ivar and I are getting back together. We're just taking a break right now. Truly, I know we are destined for each other and he agrees. We had a bad fight and needed some space but he loves me just as much as I love him. So, I know he will come back to me when he is ready. I'm so sorry to tell you that you're just the rebound girl. I'm sure he likes you but that's as far as it will ever go. Gyda likes to try and mess with the brothers' love lives so I am sorry if she dragged you into this without telling you the whole truth. It's not your fault. I am sure Gyda lied to you and probably Ivar too. But it's good for you to know now. I don't hold it against you if you've have had sex with him but just know your time with him is limited, okay? How long have you two been 'friends'?"

"We met last month." Kari whispered, dread and despair a writhing mess of snakes churning in her stomach. Air refused to fill her lungs, leaving her struggling for breath.

Freydis sighed. "It probably will be soon then. Just take advantage of the things he purchases for you, so when he leaves, you can have something to sell if you're in a pinch. Yeah?"

"Ah…. sure."

"Good. You seem like a nice girl. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this."

"It's…." Kari choked back a sudden sob. "It's alright. Thank you."

"Of course, we girls need to look out for each other. Is there anything I can do for you?" She inquired, sounding so genuine in her desire to help, her gaze imploring and lips in a faint, comforting smile.

"No…. no. I just need to check my phone. Have you seen Gyda's bag?"

"I think she left it on the porch." Margrethe helpfully added, never having lost the smug grin on her face as she watched Kari with a hawk-like intensity.

"Oh, right. Thank you." Kari shifted back and forth on her feet, body primed to run, to flee before anyone could see the tears that welled pathetically in her eyes.

Freydis reached out and squeezed her arm, a brief exchange of understanding, then strutted back around to grab her drink and follow Margrethe to the porch and outside.

Once alone, Kari pressed a hand over her mouth to try and stifle the sob that lodged itself in her throat. She knew it. Everything Freydis said made sense.

Without a second thought, she rushed around the island and onto the porch, quickly locating Gyda's bag. She scooped her purse and clothes out only to hurry back inside. A quick check of the time and she figured she might be able to catch a bus, but in this gated community, there was no way buses came through so she would end up walking somewhere. Feeling the sting of tears in her eyes, she sniffled, trying desperately to hold them back. She looked up the nearest bus stop on her phone, pleased it was only a few blocks away from the gated community.

Once positive she knew where she was going, she stared down at her clothes on the counter, wondering if she should change before leaving. It would certainly look odd for her to be walking down the street in the swimsuit cover and sandals in such an upscale neighborhood. Then she thought about any of the Lothbroks finding her trying to leave and pushed the potential oddity of her attire from her mind. It appeared there was a gas station nearby when she found the bus stop, it would be simple to change there quickly. Somehow she could give the swimsuit and cover back to Torvi…. but not today. Right now, she needed to leave.

She tried to shove her clothes into her purse, only succeeding by making it look like an over-inflated balloon but it worked. Lastly, she reached to grab her phone off the kitchen counter but froze. Ivar bought it for her. Freydis' words came back to her about taking advantage of the things he bought for her. Bile burned the back of her throat at the idea. She promised herself she would not be one of those girls to him. Slowly, she retracted her hand, forming it into a fist by her side. Ivar could give the phone to Freydis or throw it in the trash for all she cared. Even with the feeling of her heart being ripped in two, she refused to take advantage of him or his money. She was a better person than that. Or so she hoped.

Worried someone would come in soon, she tossed her purse over her shoulder and swiftly headed towards the front door. She passed through the hallway she entered in, but the pictures and awards blurred before her eyes as the repressed tears threatened to make an appearance. Hastily, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand but knew it was ultimately futile.

"Kari?"

Her stride never faltered towards her escape, even after hearing Hvitserk call her name from what sounded like the porch.

"Kari? Where are you going?" His voice came from behind her, probably standing at the entrance of the hallway now.

"I have to go." Kari said, not bothering to turn around, unsure if he could even hear her. She could barely hear footsteps behind her over the sound of her sniffles and ragged breathing. It did not matter since she was close to her escape, just a couple more moments. Her hand touched the handle, just beginning to pull the door open when Hvitserk's hand appeared in her direct line of vision and slammed it closed. Although the sound was muffled, it echoed in her mind like a gunshot.

"What's going on?" Hvitserk stood directly behind her, his hand still firmly planted on the door as if to prevent her from even considering leaving without permission again.

"It's nothing." She murmured, staring down at her feet.

"I seriously doubt that if you are trying to sneak away while crying…. what happened?"

"Nothing. I just…. I just want to go home."

"Okay." He shifted to lean his shoulder against the door, ducking his head to try and catch her eyes. "Does this have to do with the yoga stuff?"

"No. Just…. please, Hvitserk."

"You need to tell me something. Look, I'll give you a ride, we can leave right now but you have to tell me what happened."

She swallowed thickly, still refusing to look at him. It was taking all of her willpower to keep the tears at bay. At any moment she felt the tears would come forth with all the power of a hurricane, reducing her to a sniveling mess on the floor, nursing a broken heart. It was all her fault though. How could she have believed someone like Ivar Lothbrok would actually be interested in her for more than just a one-night stand. She was just a challenge for him, someone to pass the time. Then once she gave in, once they finally had sex, he would walk out of her life and back into Freydis' arms and bed…. where he apparently belonged.

"Kari?" Hvitserk softly prompted.

"It's…. I just have a better understanding now…. of where I stand…. of my purpose here."

"Your purpose?"

She sniffed, wiping her wet eyes once again before the tears fell. "I'm just a rebound girl….and that's alright. I get it. But I just want to go home now."

"Fuck. Freydis said that, didn't she?"

"It doesn't matter. Can you please just take me to the bus stop, I can get home from there." She knew she was begging but she did not care anymore.

"Kari, give me that." He grabbed her purse from her and tossed it onto a wooden side table. His hands held hers in a manner that was comforting verse restraining. His thumbs rubbed along the back of her hands as he softly spoke. "Look at me, you know it's not like that."

"It doesn't matter." She shook her head, even as her hands gripped his tighter, the feeling being the only thing keeping her from falling apart at the front door. "I shouldn't have let Gyda bring me here. I should have made her drop me off."

"Kari…." He began but was interrupted.

"Hvitty?" Ivar's loud voice boomed from the kitchen. "You better not be trying to fuck Kari!"

Kari flinched at the sound. The facade of strength she fought to maintain evaporated like smoke. The tears she had been trying so desperately to withhold slipped free, rolling down her cheeks like a cleansing rain.

"Over here!" Hvitserk called back, releasing her hands but not moving away.

Ivar's measured gait could be heard coming down the hallway like the footsteps of doom.

"What the fuck is going on? You disappear to find Kari and then…." His voice trailed off as he entered the foyer, piercing gaze zeroing in on her tear-stained face. What sense of jovial teasing transformed into enraged fury. When he spoke next, it came out in an animalistic growl that bespoke impending violence. "Who fucking hurt you?"

"I'm fine." She mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself. Her chin rested on her chest, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "I just want to go home."

"Freydis….and I'm betting Margrethe also said something to her." Hvitserk snitched, leaning fully against the door. He watched both Kari and his brother as if ready to intervene at a moment's notice.

Ivar snapped, stepping closer. "What did they say?"

She was unsure who he directed his question to but she still shook her head, refusing to look at either brother. Hearing his wrath, it only made her heart ache more. All of this was a show, it had to be. Why would he truly care? The sound of his heavy gait coming closer brought a fresh wave of silent tears.

Moving to her other side, he cupped her cheek. When she resisted looking at him, he shifted his hand to grab the back of her neck, forcing her gaze to meet his. A tempest swirled in his icy blue eyes. "What. Did. They. Say?"

"Why does it matter?" She questioned, bottom lip trembling as a sob rose from her chest.

"Because they hurt you."

"But I'm no one. I don't matter." She shook her head, pressing a hand over her mouth to contain the cries bound to escape at any moment. "You're just going to get back together with Freydis when you get bored with me."

His eyes widened as if she had sucker-punched him. His mouth dropped open for a moment before he collected himself, the maelstrom rippling under his skin on the verge of breaking free. "Did they say that?"

"Freydis said…. she said you two were just taking a break….and I'm the rebound girl."

"Fuck. Fuck!" Ivar stepped away, running his hands through his loose hair. In an instant, he grabbed the decorative bowl off the entrance table and threw it. The shattering against the wall reverberated in the foyer followed by Ivar's guttural shout. "FUCK!"

"Ivar." Hvitserk softly said, warily watching his younger brother.

"I'm going to kill her. Fuck! I can't believe she would fucking say that!" Ivar ran his hands through his hair again, looking on the verge of ripping the strands out. The ferocity in his eyes was unmatched as he glanced down the hallway, clearly wanting to go after his ex, then shifted back to Kari, who remained silent and unmoving. "What else did she say?" He barked at her.

"You're destined for each other." She confessed after a moment's hesitation.

Ivar stormed over to her, devouring the ground beneath his feet as he invaded her space. Standing before her, he cupped her face, eyes imploring her to believe him. "Freydis is a crazy, jealous bitch. She manipulates to get what she wants. Don't believe a word out of her fucking mouth. Fuck! Please, Kari, don't cry. I'm right here, kitten."

His words seeped into her mind, slipping in through the cracks and delving deep into her soul. His words alone should not have reassured her like they did. Between his pleading eyes and his gentle touch, her few walls surrounding her heart crumbled, unable to fight him. She believed him, even before her mind fully recognized it.

She lightly placed her hands on his bare chest, one directly over his heart, feeling the rapid tempo under her fingers. "Promise?" She whispered wetly. "You're not just…. I’m not just a rebound girl?"

Ivar groaned, pressing his forehead to Kari's. "I swear. I never thought that about you."

And she believed him again. The truth falling from his lips resounded in the very core of her being. It made no sense how she knew, but somehow, she did.

After a long second, Hvitserk pushed off the door from next to them. "I'm going to head back and keep an eye on them. Kari, if you still want a ride just text me, alright?"

"Thank you, Hvitty." She reached out and snagged his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. With a smile, he responded in kind before heading down the hallway towards the backyard.

Soon as Hvitserk started walking away, Ivar grabbed her hand and led her in the opposite direction. They hurried through a short hallway to arrive at a closed door. Impatiently, Ivar thrust the door open and pulled her into a room, slamming the door shut behind them. She had a brief moment to scan the new room and notice the two walls with floor to ceiling bookshelves packed full and the couple couches near a large window.

Before she could do anything, she shrieked as she found herself suddenly yanked back, her body colliding with the closed door. Immediately Ivar's mouth claimed hers in a hungry, feverish kiss. His body pinned her to the door, hands kneading her hips. It was all she could do to just breathe. Her hands clung to his broad shoulders, desperate to stay above the waves of passion-fueled desire that surged unchecked within her.

Ivar withdrew his mouth from hers, but only to place kisses over her cheeks, washing away her tears with his affections. "Don't listen to her. Her and I. We are through. I will never go back to her. She has been sniffing around but that ends tonight. I won't fucking let her talk to you again. I fucking swear it."

"Ivar…." She whined, tilting her head. An open invitation which he took.

He swooped in, continuing to speak between leaving open-mouth kisses on her neck. "It's you. It's you I want. It's you I think about all the time. Fuck, kitten, you have no idea how much I want you. And seeing you do those yoga poses in that swimsuit…. fuck! You looked so goddamn sexy; I got a hard-on just watching." He grabbed her thigh, lifting it up and curling it behind him, pressing himself against her core. At the touch of his hardened length against her, she whimpered. "Do you feel that? That's for you, søte Kari."

She could not help but roll her hips, grinding against his erection, body automatically seeking friction.

"Yes! Fuck." He growled against her neck. "Come here."

She whined when he released her leg, letting it fall down to the floor. Her breathing was unsteady already, heart hammering away in her chest. A part of her knew she should stop this, open the door behind her and walk out to avoid the temptation. Yet when his hand latched onto hers once again, tugging her towards one of the couches, she followed willingly, unable to deny the sweet sin that was Ivar.

He dropped onto the couch and settled her into his lap to straddle him. As she settled, he grabbed a handful of the cover over her and yanked it off, tossing it haphazardly onto the floor. Her first instinct was to cover her chest, but as her arms moved to do that, Ivar guided them behind his head. His gaze drunk in the curves of her body, an unashamed starved look in his eyes that made her shudder as it further ignited the fire in her belly.

"Kattungen min." He whispered reverently. "Fucking hell, so gorgeous. No one else gets to touch you like I do. Got it? You're mine." He started lavishing her chest and neck with his mouth, alternating between his lips and tongue.

She knew she should feel more self-conscious straddling Ivar's lap in only the swimsuit that barely covered all of her assets; but it was as if his touch banished the thoughts away. Instead she felt beautiful and cherished.

He palmed one of her breasts and the moan that escaped her was pure wanton. Hands tangled in his long locks as her hips ground harder against his erection in response. His leg braces were only an afterthought that did not impede her actions.

"Ivar, please."

"That's it. Fuck, you're so beautiful. I can't wait to fuck you senseless."

Suddenly he shifted under her, his hand fumbling between them. Her mind barely took notice as he sucked the skin between her breasts, something that would definitely leave a mark. Next thing she knew, his cock was freed, standing at attention between them.

Before she could protest, he spoke up. "I know you're not ready." He slid it under her, pulling her hips back down. At the sensation of his cock rubbing her slit with only the thin barrier of the bikini bottom between them, she threw her head back with a whine. Desire roared through her like a freight train as his cock rubbed against her soaking core.

"You like that, kitten?"

"Yes." She sighed out, head tilted back as she rolled her hips.

"Good, my turn." He reached behind her and promptly untied the straps of the bikini top behind her back.

"Ivar!" She tried to cover herself but he swatted her hands away.

"Trust me."

Once she relented, he laid a hard kiss to her lips then tugged the top over her head, the band behind her neck without a tie. She desperately wanted to cover herself, now before him feeling on full display. But it was the look on his face that stilled her movements.

"Guder. Du er utsøkt. Faen. Den vakreste kvinnen." He murmured with adoration and awe dripping off each word.

"What did you say?"

Instead of answering her, he lowered his face to her chest and captured one of her perky nipples in his mouth. His other hand moved to grab one of her ass cheeks, encouraging her to keep riding him.

All breath vanished from her lungs. All thoughts and insecurities fled under his touch. Her hands tangled in his hair, keeping his mouth on her. All she could feel was him. All she wanted to feel was him. Gasps and moans slipped from her as she allowed herself to be overtaken and drawn into an ocean of pleasure.

She could feel herself rising higher and higher, riding the wave. Her mind was becoming delirious from fire in her veins and the motion of her hips rocking over his exposed cock.

To her surprise, Ivar grabbed a handful of hair at the back of her neck. "That's it, beautiful. Fuck. Let's see what that bendy spine can do." Carefully, he pulled on her hair, not in a painful way but as if to guide her. Willingly submitting herself, she bent her back, following his lead. When her chest was parallel to the ceiling, he stopped pulling, keeping her suspended with her back arched.

Ivar groaned loudly, thrusting against her. She met his action, too absorbed in the bliss to care about decency.

"All the dirty, fucking things this makes me want to do to you." He licked a scalding line up her sternum, only to swirl his tongue around one of her nipples, making her mewl as she continued to move her hips faster. "Come for me."

"Yes, yes." She chanted. "Ivar, please."

"Keep begging, kitten. Let me know how much you want my cock."

As her climax hit, the tightening coil in her core sprung loose, her mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Wave after wave rolled over her. She could feel Ivar grunt and thrust a few more times beneath her before retracing his cock and spurting onto her exposed stomach. After he released her hair, letting her rise back up to face him. Their eyes fixated on one another, chests heaving as they struggled for breath.

Gently, she reached out and touched his cheek, a shy smile on her face. Then, when he made no move to pull away, she leaned forward, uncaring of his cum slipping down her stomach, and drew him into a lazy, slow kiss. He responded, lips melding to hers in a way that was full of softness and contentment. After a moment, she felt him reach behind him for the blanket laying on the back of the couch and wipe her stomach off, all the while never abandoning their kiss.

Once she was clean, he dropped the blanket to the floor and somehow managed to keep their lips locked as he guided them to lay down on the couch, their bare chests pressed together and his arm under her head, legs tangled.

"Do you believe me now?" He eventually asked, leaning back but only far enough so the tips of their noses almost touched.

"Mmmm?"

"That it's you I want. Freydis and anyone else can go fuck themselves for all I care."

She bit her bottom lip and dropped her gaze. "I don't understand why."

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean…. Margrethe said I'm not your…. type."

He snorted and muttered under his breath, "fucking bitch".

"But she's right." Kari pressed onward, her hand running up and down his side as if to ground herself. "I mean, I could never compare to Freydis…. or Torvi or Gyda or any of them. They are all beautiful and….and in perfect shape. I'm not. My thighs and butt are too big and I'm maybe pretty but that's it."

"You're right. You're not my usual type. But those girls, I'd fuck them and then never look their way again. You though, fuck, I can barely take my eyes off you when you're around. And these," he reached down and grabbed a handful of one of her ass cheeks, making her squeak. "I love them. And these thighs, fucking hell, kitten, I want you to suffocate me with them when I finally eat you out."

She gasped, a bolt of electricity shooting through her at the image.

A devilish grin grew on his face, his hand stroking her ass cheek. "You like that idea? My tongue teasing your folds before slipping inside of you. Your thighs wrapped around my head as I feast on your pussy."

"Ivar." She whined, unable to stop the sudden roll of her hips.

"Soon, sweet Kari." He chuckled darkly, ceasing her movement by melding their hips together. "And your tits, gods, they are perfect. I could stare at them all day."

She giggled even as she flushed under his praise. "I'm sorry for doubting you. I guess, I'm still just surprised you'd…. well, that you want me."

"You are mine. You're my woman." He stated resolutely, gazing directly into her eyes so she could see how serious he was.

"But we aren't dating…."

"Doesn't fucking matter. You're mine. And one of these days you'll change your mind and stop playing this game of trying to keep me away."

She sighed, wishing it would be that easy. Before he could continue with that argument, she changed the subject. "You know, I think we exceeded our kiss quota for the day."

He snorted. "I didn't see you complaining earlier."

"That's true. Do you think we should head back out?"

"If I see Freydis or Margrethe right now…." His voice trailed off, but the fury from earlier lingered in the unspoken threat.

"I know. We don't have too. I'm okay right here."

A grateful smile on his lips, he kissed her quickly then rolled her onto her back and laid his head on her chest. They relaxed like that for several minutes in silence, her hand running through his hair, just enjoying the feeling of complacency and peace between them now after their fight. If you could even call it that.

Finally, she spoke up in a hushed tone, a random question coming to mind. "Do you ever get in the pool?"

"No."

"Oh." Was all she could say after his sharp, barbed answer. Clearly it was a subject that was not open for discussion. Her mind wandered, wondering what happened to cause such a response from him. An uncomfortable tension hung over them after his response. Something she was not sure if she should try and dissipate or ignore for now.

After a minute of continued silence, he kissed her chest, letting his lips linger there as if using the extra time to mentally prepare himself. Before she could tell him it was none of her business, he spoke. His tone was quiet and, in anyone else, almost shaky.

"I…. I used to try when I was younger. They'd put me on one of those stupid floating things and pull me around or someone would hold me. Then, when I was about seven…. Sigurd and I got in a big fight earlier that day. He claimed I broke one of his toys. Fucking asshole. I was sitting by the pool, this in our childhood home in Kattegat, I liked to watch things float on the water. Sigurd walked by me and….and pushed me over the edge."

She gasped. "Oh Ivar…."

"Ubbe jumped in and pulled my half-drown ass out." He nuzzled against her skin; his tone having lost the insecurity as he reassured her. "I'm alright, Kari."

She drew his face up and gave him a long kiss, their mouth connecting with a deeper need and alleviation. "Remind me to thank Ubbe when I see him next."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't. He's never let me forget the fact."

"Still."

They laid there for some more time, wrapped up in one another and content in the peaceful stillness. She could not help but think about the memory Ivar shared with her. How far back did that resentment go between the brothers? Had there ever been a time where they cared for one another? And how bad was the animosity between them if one was willing to kill the other, even as children? If her arms tightened around him, neither one mentioned it as they continued to lay there.

A loud knock on the door followed by a yell through the door of "are you two done yet?" disturbed their peace.

"Hvits, fuck off!" Ivar called back, burrowing his face between her breasts.

"Do you have clothes on at least?!"

"I do!"

Kari swatted the back of Ivar's head at his admission. Leaning up slightly, he gave her a cheeky wink before laying his head back down.

"Well cover up, I'm coming in!" Hvitserk yelled through the door.

"Ivar, get up." Kari softly said, a panic setting in at the brother coming in and seeing them in this suggestive position and her topless.

"No." He mumbled.

Before she could shove him off, he snatched the throw blanket off the floor and threw it over his head to cover her chest. As she began to protest, the door cautiously opened. In an instant, she tried to spread out the blanket over them as best as she could, keeping the blanket over her chest and spread it somewhat over their torsos. Although how much good it did was questionable. She peered over to see Hvitserk standing in the doorway with an amused look before shaking his head and stepping in, closing the door behind him.

"What the fuck do you want?" Ivar asked, muffled by the blanket and his face still pressed against her skin.

Kari raised her gaze to the ceiling for a moment then mouthed to Hvitserk, "I'm sorry."

Hvitserk winked at her before answering. "Bjorn and Torvi want everyone together before they leave. Sounds like they have an announcement or something."

"Are the bitches still here?"

"Yeah." Hvitserk sighed.

"Then no."

"I'll go." Kari softly said. "It must be important."

"No, you aren't." Ivar nipped at the side of her breast, making her squirm.

"Well everyone is waiting on you two." Hvitserk pointed out as he watched, clearly entertained if his broad grin said anything.

"I'm coming."

Ivar pulled the blanket back slightly to stare up at her. "Why the fuck do you want to see them?"

"Is it….is it terrible I want to show Frey…. her that I'm still here. That no matter what they said, that I'm not going anywhere."

A positively, feral grin spread over his face. He swooped in and pressed a devastating kiss to her mouth, not letting up until she thought she would suffocate from the intensity of it. "Let's go."

He started to rise up but when she squeaked and tried to clutch the blanket to her, he froze.

"Hvits, leave."

"You sure I can't stay?" His smirk grew as he caught Kari's eye and watched her flush deepen.

"GO!" Ivar bellowed, glaring at his older brother.

"Fine. I'll wait out here for you. If you're not out in three minutes, I'm coming back in." Hvitserk stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

Ivar carefully slid off of her, standing up beside the couch, the blanket in hand. His predatory, blue eyes remained trained on her form, raking over her body like a sweet he wanted to devour completely. A familiar warmth awakened in her core, even as she shyly glanced away, covering her naked breasts with her hands.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous. On second thought, I think we should stay. I need another taste of you and to hear you moaning my name for everyone to fucking hear."

She squealed, quickly skirting away from him before he could pounce on her. "Ivar, no!" Yet, miraculously, he managed to snag an arm around her waist and drag her back against his chest.

"Should we make an announcement of our own?" He asked, running his nose along the shell of her ear, chuckling under his breath when she shivered against him.

"What do you mean?"

"That you're my girlfriend. That this just-friends is shit."

"I…." She balked, eyes wide and heart beating a painful staccato in her chest. “We…. we can't."

"Why the fuck not?" He grasped her breasts, rolling her peaked nipples between his fingers.

She practically swallowed her tongue, biting back the moan lodged in her throat. When she was positive she could control her voice, she replied. "We've talked about this. I'm just…. I’m not ready."

"But you'll practically let me fuck you?"

At his harsh snap, she tried to push out of his embrace, unwilling to have this conversation in their current predicament or maybe have the conversation at all. The innate desire to flee rose up in her but she tried to force it down as she squirmed in his arms. He held her firm, not giving up an inch, her body flush against his own.

"Ivar!"

"What aren't you telling me?"

She hated both herself and him in the moment as she ceased her escape attempts. She hated him for continuously pushing her, for ignoring her words and trying to force her where he wanted her to be. Even more though, she hated herself. If she had kept away from him, however unlikely that was, if she did not have to hide, then none of this would matter. If she could be honest, truly honest, he would most likely reject her. And that was why she hated herself most. Because she was selfish and wanted his attention and affection, even knowing if he knew who she truly was, he would walk away.

Carefully, she turned her head to meet his stormy eyes. "I promise one day I will. I just…. can we please just enjoy this? What we have? I just need…. time."

He stared down at her for a long time. She wondered what he read in her face when he finally gave a resigned sigh. "Fine. I'm telling people you are my girlfriend though."

"You're unbelievable."

"I think you like that about me." He matched her smile with his own before letting her go.

She quickly found her bikini top, noticing Ivar not-so-subtly adjusting his sweatpants. She slipped it over her head but when she went to tie the straps, a pair of calloused hands covered hers. Without a word, he tied it behind her back. Once done, his hand slowly prowled down her back to lightly smack her ass.

"Hey!" She whipped around, only to see a Cheshire grin on his face.

"That's my sexy ass."

"Oh my god. Unbelievable." She muttered to herself as she snatched up the cover and pulled it over. She looked down at the blanket piled on the floor.

"Leave it. I'll deal with it later." He took her hand and walked with her towards the door. When they opened it, a still-shirtless Hvitserk stood leaning against the wall across from them.

"Took you two long enough. Damn. Almost came in and threw Kari over my shoulder to get you out."

Ivar spat something out in their language that made Hvitserk roll his eyes. Before they could move further down the hallway, Hvitserk reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, freezing her in place.

"Hey, whatever they said. Just try to ignore it. We all want you here. Hell, all of us would kick them to the damn curb if Ubbe would let us. But Ubbe and Bjorn have already approved of you."

Ivar scoffed but Hvitserk kept his gaze on hers, letting her know he was serious.

"Just know, we're on your side."

"Thank you, Hvitty." She squeezed his hand, warmth blooming in her chest at his words.

"Either one of them tries to talk to her, I'll strangle them." Ivar growled, starting down the hallway, towing Kari behind him.

"You can't kill them, Ivar. Mother said murder is wrong."

Ivar laughed, looking over his shoulder at his brother. "Mother still loves me."

"Yeah, yeah, we all know you're her favorite."

"Can you blame her? Look at me. I'm far superior and more interesting than the rest of you."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Kari could not help but smile at their teasing, a mock argument that sounded like it had been executed many times before until now it was said out of fondness and mock sibling rivalry.

The three walked back outside through the glassed-in porch. On the way, she noticed her purse back next to Gyda's bag and wondered if Hvitserk moved it there for her. Outside, everyone else sat on chairs or lounge chairs that were grouped in a haphazard circle, obviously waiting for the remainder of the group to join.

"What took you so long? Thought we'd have to send a search party to find you." Bjorn called out as the three approached.

"I got 'em. The library reeks of sex though." Hvitserk said, dodging Kari's swing.

Ivar guided her back to the lounge chair they had been sitting in earlier, tucking her into his side with a hand laying possessively on her hip. Hvitserk sat on her other side instead of pulling a new chair over. She tried to ignore Margrethe and Freydis who sat across from them, keeping her eyes trained on her lap, fiddling with the hem of her cover.

"Ok, now that we're finally all here." Bjorn said, standing up with Asa in his arms. "We just wanted to tell our family the good news in person."

"Torvi is pregnant!" Gyda blurted, staring at her sister-in-law in shock.

"Fuck! Gyda!" Bjorn groaned.

"Daddy said a bad word." Hali looked over at his mother from his spot next to Sigurd.

"Yes, he did, thank you, Hali." Torvi replied smiling then addressed the group. "I'm about two months along. So right now, we are only telling family, so please don't share this with anyone else yet."

"Wow! A third! Congrats!" Ubbe started, others immediately echoing their own congratulations and well-wishes.

Kari jumped up and moved to give Torvi a hug after Gyda. "I know we haven't known each other long but I'm so excited for you. You're an amazing mother."

"Thank you, Kari. Maybe your own time will come soon." She shooting her eyes over to Ivar for a second then meeting Kari's again.

"Oh, I don't know." She blushed at the thought. After another brief hug, Kari returned to her seat.

"How old are you?" Hvitserk asked suddenly.

"Um, I turned twenty-five this summer."

"Ha! Still the baby of the group." Sigurd laughed, pointing his beer bottle at Ivar.

"Hey, nothing is wrong with an older woman. We're in our sexual prime." Gyda defended.

"She's not that much older." Ivar retorted, his hand skimming up and down Kari's thigh. "Just a year."

"And a few months. You're turning twenty-four after the new year." Ubbe helpfully added with a grin.

"Fuck off."

"Mommy, Uncle Ivar said a bad word now."

"Yes, he did, Hali. I think it's time for us to go. Say goodbye to everyone." Torvi said. After a round of goodbyes and hugs to all the uncles and aunt, the small family headed back through the house to head to their own home.

"Did you know Ivar is younger than you?" Hvitserk asked conspiringly, once conversation started around them again.

She tilted her head as she looked at him, slowly answering his question. “Yeah…. we talked about this a while ago."

"Good. Do you want kids?"

"Hvits, what is this?" Ivar butted in.

"Just testing the waters to see how she feels about having my babies. You know they'd be beautiful." Hvitserk chuckled when Ivar glared at him.

"Be nice you two or I'm moving." Kari chided.

"Yes, mom." Hvitserk said, sneaking a kiss to her cheek before jumping away. He turned around and pointed at her as he walked backwards. "One day you'll have my babies!"

She laughed, shaking her head. She could practically feel the smoke coming from Ivar's ears. Before he could burst a vein, she leaned closer to him and laid her head against his shoulder. "He knows I'm yours."

"He fucking better or I'll beat his ass to remind him." Ivar murmured, nuzzling her temple.

She relaxed against him, looking around the backyard. Hvitserk and Ubbe had started some kind of wrestling competition in the pool, both looking like they were trying to drown each other. Gyda and Ivar called insults from their seats. Sigurd was texting on his phone but occasionally looking up and making a comment. At one point he caught her eye and gave her a brief nod, which she smiled back, hoping any animosity between the two of them from her earlier comment was gone. She purposefully ignored the whispering between Margrethe and Freydis, taking a note from Ivar's book and acting as if they did not exist.

Looking at the Lothbrok family around her, she smiled at the group, still amazed she found herself in their midst and how welcoming most of them were. For almost two years she had been alone in a new country, thinking that was what she wanted. Now though, she wondered if she had just been missing a group that accepted her without question.

She peered up at Ivar, heart swelling with gratitude and affection. Without second guessing herself, she kissed his cheek and leaned back against his shoulder. He hummed, placing his own kiss to the top of her head.

She wondered if she should just give up fighting this, whatever this was between them. Maybe it would work out. Maybe everything would not fall apart as soon as the truth fell from her lips. Maybe he could accept her past and who she was.

Silently, she shook the thoughts away. It was still too soon to tell and if she was honest, she did not want to lose this.

Or lose him.

106 notes · View notes

phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust · 3 years

Note

I’d disagree with the anon that Paul was “incapable” of love, but I do agree he was very distanced, and pretty cruel (to women) when he was younger. (It was unfortunate they bought into the love at first sight myth, but he was also a charmer, and dropped affection and got colder after fucking them.)

But I just can’t see romantic interest on Paul’s end. I’m sure he loved John, but a lot of the “sexual/Romantic evidence” really can just be as construed as platonic love. I feel there may be some confirmation bias looking for “clues”. (Not an attack on anyone, but some of the analysises seem to try too hard, really).

He does make references, with the whole “calling him babe during concerts”, and “in bed” but that could just mean he’s not uncomfortable with coming off “gay”. He has a quote about it somewhere I think. He’s supportive of the community at any rate.

This is kind of my own bias, but at times I think he…plays it up a little during the present day? Again, I’m positive he did love John a lot, but with how he is, a charmer, good at manipulating his image, he knows there is a benefit to building up the “magical” Lennon McCartney dynamic. John’s dead, and the old conflicts have faded, so he has no reason not to. I don’t think he’s anti-social, or a psycho or anything, but he certainly does put a lot of thought into his image, especially now, with how he wants to leave his legacy.

I’m less knowledgeable about John, and the speculation about his mental illnesses, but on his end, I can certainly see it. Maybe he’s just blind, but the looks are very much…yeah. He does seem to rely Paul a lot, and hold him in very high regard (REGARDLESS of what those old male biographers might make of him). You just know he was suffering over Paul, poor bastard.

Not sure if anything happened. I think Paul knew though, and either ignored it, or was kind, knowing John wouldn’t act on it. OR he didn’t notice! With the whole “we shared beds A LOT. you would think he’d make a pass at me, darling~”

I guess that’s how I see it. I don’t really have strong feelings on the nature of their relationship, or want them to be “confirmed”, so I try to be as objective as possible! Not a shipper, but not a male biographer. In fact, I was very put off learning the ship was a thing at first! With every fan base “having to” ship the main male leads, that’s what I thought this was. But after three years, reading actual books, primary stuff, I’ve began to change my mind on its legitimacy, and this was my conclusion. But new information can always change!

(Sorry for the long long analysis, god! I just took my adderall and I should go eat! Feel free to block me for spam/harassment.)

Yeah, this is basically my big mclennon dilemma: did Paul love John?

Of course he loved him, but I mean did he harbour any homosexual feelings towards John - and I just go back and fourth on that a lot.

In my last response to an anon I wasn’t necessarily trying to argue that Paul was romantically/sexually attached to John, because all in all, I don’t believe he did - but it probably came off that way because I didn’t particularly like the way the anon had phrased some stuff (like calling him “a master manipulator” and “incapable of love”) and so I just sort of wanted to show that the relationship was more nuanced then just “john was simping for paul”. My overall point with that response was more so that whilst I think Paul struggles in showing real affection and emotions, I don’t think he was incapable of love prior to Linda. I think he did really love John (in whichever form of love you want to take it: romantically, platonically etc.)

And so my point I guess wasnt so much that Paul was always capable of love (because I think he did at least love his family, his close-friends, probably Jane etc.), but maybe more so that he was always capable of intimacy with another person, though he struggled with it.

But yeah, he was quite cruel to a lot of the girls he slept with in the 60s, but I wouldn’t say that suggests he was incapable of love (i know thats not what you’re saying but other people might interpret it through that lens) I would just say he was young, dumb, ridiculously rich and famous and not emotionally mature enough yet to really empathise with most of those girls. Not trying to completely excuse him, but like, i dunno, i always just try to view people from the most human perspective. Everyones an twat sometimes yknow

I also really struggle to see romance on Pauls behalf towards John - the only times I think “wait but maybe he did fancy john back” is when I read some of his lyrics (like in ‘Coming Up’, ‘Yvonne’s The One’, and to some extent ‘Here Today’ - though I think interpreting Here Today as strictly platonic love is still a valid interpretation). I mentioned this in a different post though, that analysing his lyrics just isnt particularly convincing for me, because it feels more like speculation - and also as someone who does write songs, I know that a lot of lyrics just arent as deep as we wish they were. It is really difficult to be truly introspective and honest in a song, without exaggerating or hyperbolising or fictionalising any autobiographical aspects.

I do see your point with Paul possibly playing up the “Lennon/McCartney m a g i c” - im not entirely sure how much I agree, but I do agree to some extent. I think he’s always been very image conscious, and being in what is probably the all-time most famous pop band definitely wouldve heightened that. Even as a teenager I think he’s always just had this natural charm about him, and that tends to stem I guess from a need to be liked; I think you can see it in every interview he’s ever done to be honest. Its not necessarily a bad thing, (because id take a charmer over a rude knobhead any day) but I guess it sort of just shows that Paul is flawed like everybody else. Also, just read @mothernatures-sons tags and I agree with her - Paul just knows when to be a nice person! Nothing wrong with that! It isnt manipulative like the last anon suggested, its just how most people are: polite :) Ive heard a lot of anecdotes from people who have worked with or met Paul and the majority of them say he was a just a nice guy. Not saying he was never an arsehole (cause yeah he was pretty cruel to those girls in the 60s) but I think overall, hes a pretty good guy 👍

On the other hand though, you could also say that superficial journalists are looking for superficial answers - and Paul knows what the people want to hear. But occasionally ill hear an interview that does seem more intimate then most - I havent listened to it in awhile, but the interview he did with Sean I remember felt more honest to me then most. And when he said he’d like to spend the day “in bed” with John, to me that felt like a genuine and fitting response. Because, whilst it has sexual connotations, it also just feels like he’s saying he’d just like to sit around, chat, dont chat, just whatever with John for a day. Like he would just like another moment of intimacy with him.

I think we are pretty much in agreement on most of this though! At first I was also like “nah, mclennon isnt real, teenage girls just love shipping guys!” (I am a teenaged girl and I can confirm this lol) but then it just sort of became apparent to me through reading more and more about their relationship that there probably was something more on Johns behalf. If John wasnt in love with Paul, then it feels as though a lot of things he said and did just dont add up (the big one for me is him marrying Yoko so soon after Paul married Linda - like I really cannot come up with a heterosexual explanation for that!)

But when it comes to Paul, though ill have moments of doubt, I dont think he was in love with John (homosexually) and I do think a lot of the evidence on Pauls behalf seems like a stretch (but like you, im not having a go at anyone, because I understand that it is easy to carried away, plus its fun - but realistically, most of Pauls evidence just is not convincing to me). He’s comfortable with his sexuality, and I really do try to respect that and not force a gay interpretation of quotes or songs from him, unless it is genuinely making me question his sexuality and mclennon.

PS dont worry, I didn’t take this is spam at all!! And also, I would never block someone just for disagreeing with me! I enjoy discussion and I think its good to engage with people who disagree with you! To be honest, id only block someone if they were purposely being a real arsehole <3

#mclennon #discussion

24 notes · View notes

certifiedceraunophile · 3 years

Note

Hi! A fan of your writing here. I just love the way you write Caroline. An Avoidable Heart is my comfort fic and I am constantly in awe with the way you write and craft the dynamics in that story. Caroline's inner monologue is just priceless and God! I just love that intro scene where Caroline is walking into the Mikaelson compound with vampires and hybrids in the surrounding ready to pounce on her.

I would love to hear how you would have visualized Caroline crossing over into TO or not? Like in what season and why? How it would have likely gone?

Thank you!

First of all lovely anon gimme a moment to breathe, asdfghjkl why are people so lovely 😭😭🥺✨ It means sooo much to me that you’d take the time to jump into my inbox and send these kind words, like please I’m not worthyyyyy, But you make me smile and feel really freaking warm so *handcuffs your hand to mine* you aint leaving 💖✨💞🙃

But OK ALSO oh my god dude THAT CAROLINE WALTZS INTO THE COMPOUND AND TAKES ON A COUPLE HUNDRED VAMPIRES BY HERSELF SCENE???? Ughhhhh I’m sorry but I have SUCH a boner for Caroline in that, like my badass -I admit kinda op- QUEEN IS HERE and she’s fucking shit up, I’m sorry but I love that scene so much it’s so dear to me I was killing myself over how self-indulgent and grossly Over powered Caroline is but like idgaf man it’s such a hot scene and Caroline is practically invincible and we just love to see that, so seriously lovely anon, you telling me you LOVE that scene??? Puts the biggest smile on my face and reassures me a LOT bc I was whining and cribbing over how absolutely unbalanced that scene is to literally everyone BUT LIKE YOU JUMPING OUT OF NOWHERE and pointing that exact scene UGHH…...meant to fucking be the both of us 💖💞✨

And ALSO Caroline’s monologue is quite honestly the easiest inner monologue out of the three voices I wrote for that work, Klaus’s is the real pain in the ass tbvh like it is NOT easy writing pretentious besotted losers with a Kardashian complex especially when you need to make them sound cool when they’re the lamest OP dude bros to ever exist - and no I don’t hate Klaus although I seem to try my darndest to convince ppl I do- I just personally believe that a feral fucker like that with a thousand years of existence under his belt can grow a pair and graduate from his kindergarten level of emotional maturity to adult sometime soon, But then on the flipside he’s so grossly adorkably smitten and feral for Caroline plus hella horny for her all the time that its usually easy to write the trashed and devoted idiot he is into something pretentious and powerful and potent when relating to his unflappable arrogance and his narcissism, but sometimes I also need him to be *deep* and ffs profound for the sake of the plot and jfc my muse just wont work with me on that, she’s like I’m sorry I’m not about to bust my ass to make this mongrel intelligible like no sir all I wanna do is make him uncomfortably horny for Caroline and leave him like that.

So smh yeah the struggle is real….but lmao Caroline is just so precious and fiercely protective and just so achingly lonely in that story, so desperate for connection and trust and intimacy yet so guarded and impervious to everyone like it hurts me to write her like that but it really challenges me as an author to balance out her inherent light with the “void” I create in her and through her, so yeah it’s a very fulfilling task and I wouldnt change it one bit, and also I had to balance out her physical op-ness w half a millennium of the ugliest emotional trauma lol so I guess that figures, but the point being….once again I am overjoyed knowing that you liked a facet of the story that I tried so hard to make as authentically Caroline and achingly real and moving as I can and I cannot possibly feel more accomplished than rn for it so ty ty ty ty for reaching out to me and telling me *tackle hugs* It makes me GIDDY knowing that you enjoyed that particular part of the story like ugh stab me please you're too sweet.

And ok NOW, coming to The Originals part of the ask, (also please note that when I say TO headcanon; Hope does not exist, Hayley is a dead in a ditch and ofc Klaus will stop being that lil bitch they tried to pawn off as Klaus in TO)

HEADCANON 1

Honestly my biggest headcanon when it comes to TO crossovers somehow always include non-humanity!Caroline like it’s just so perfect to me?? The opportunity to make shit BLOW UP b/w them like imagine the DEBAUCHERY, the heat, the SEXUAL TENSION, the repression of one Klaus Mikaelson, the EXPLORATIONS, and omg the role reversal when Klaus has to be the voice of moral reason between them and not bc he believes Caroline would not be able to stand herself if she does something heinous and monstrous but bc he wants her to be completely and utterly herself, and yk *aware*, when she DECIMATES ppl to the ground and is in full-on predator mode, like he wants her monster to come out and play with him when no part of Caroline is locked away or suppressed, so obviously when she is w/o her humanity KLAUS exercises restraint on her behalf, like can you imagine that, Klaus restraining himself and being the vague, extremely broken and just largely inaccurate moral compass between the two of them for ALL the wrong reasons- and the entirety of NOLA just standing there watching him herd this baby vampire who seems to be intent on riling him up and angering him when all she is doing is giving him a massive hybrid hard on, like IMAGINE THE GOODNESS of non-humanity Caroline wrecking NOLA and Klaus letting her wreck it bc he is helpless in the face of Caroline Forbes and also bc he is quite honestly *enjoying* the debauchery himself so why put a damper on the festivities.

-I might wanna add that I favour this headcanon a lot bc I genuinely do not even remotely *like* the idea of NOLA as Klaus's chosen place to set his roots so like I would love Caroline going to NOLA and destroying everything there just bc I detest NOLA and the storyline behind it in TO. (yes is it petty? Obvi, but like I am a petty soul and I make no apologies ma’am)

HEADCANON 2

So yeah that’s my main TO headcanon, but my other one being, one I talk about very frequently, scream about in tag rants to an obsessive level, and like this is a cracky one but still very valid, where Caroline rolls up to NOLA humanity intact and all, finds Hayley preggo and is just laughing her fucking ass off bc anybody ANYBODY, with half a brain and a two minute convo w klaus would know how UTTERLY stupid the entire baby shit is especially when it’s with an immemorable one night stand, and Caroline’s just losing her shit about how like an entire city is obssessed w this baby and she just straight up tells Klaus he’d SUCK as a dad (which he really does tho like he was a shitty fucking dad canonically too) and Klaus is just like *sigh* girl tell me about it. I mean basically he’s finally relieved that someone is on his side about the whole baby thing and how he definitely does not want his entire millennium of life to finally sum up to this one squalling leaking stinky infant/unicorn Hayley is apparently baking in her oven, and I say this headcanon is cracky bc klaus would never have put up w this mess long enough for Caroline to come in and sort it out, there’s this preferred method of disposal of his called heart ripping that would've been employed quite early on and honestly saved us all a lot of brain cells and minused years of life, bc let’s be real any Klaus who’s NOT a lil snivelling bitch wearing a Klaus skinsuit would’ve yeeted the baby and the mama first chance he got, and that’s just how I see it.

Lmao I really hope I didnt scare you away w my *strong* opinions Ik they can be a bit much but I enjoy having them so theyre not going anywhere, anyways this ask answer got WAYYYY too long but I’m hoping I answered your question well with this or atleast left you slightly confused and bemused over my feral screaming....either ways I’m really really really happy to have got your ask and the chance to rant so much bs, Twas cathartic and honestly I had nothing to do today so I was more than happy to dish this baby out for you. Thank you so much sweet anon for putting a smile on my face today I am absolutely HONOURED by your words you’sa cutie 💖💞✨🗣🗣

#first of all #LONG POST #second #I did rant a LOTTTT more than what was prolly expected but lmao am I sorry?#no #anyway so those are my general drivel-tastic thoughts straight from glitter graveyard brain #hope you enjo navigating through so much bs anon #and I hope someone puts a smile on your face that's as large and bright as the one you've put on mine today #anon asks #ask certified ceraunophile #anti the orginals #tvd headcanons #tvd #klaroline #anon youre the sweetest #shakes hand cuffed hand #you stuck w me lovely #💞💞

26 notes · View notes

lulu-zodiac · 3 years

Note

re: wincest. you seem like a very sweet and kind person to me and I enjoy following you, but I think you and a lot of other people on this side of the fandom are over-thinking it a bit when it comes to wincest.

I used to read a lot of wincest when I was younger, but I've neither been a victim of sexual abuse/trauma, nor have I ever wanted to fuck my siblings. so why did I read it? simple: because that was the main thing available if you didn't want to read J2 RPF (destiel was only in its beginning stages back then) and also because I've always drawn a clear line between fiction and reality. fictional incest bothers me about as much as the fictional torture or murder in your average crime novel or tv show. it's all just stuff that you read about in books or fic or watch on TV and in movies, but that nobody would actually want in real life. and I think the same is true for most people. the effect of fiction on reality is not as strong as tumblr likes to think or claim it is, otherwise we would have to shut down all our libraries and book stores, because libraries and book stores are full of fictional (and also non-fictional) murder, torture, rape, incest and all kinds of other abuse and violence. sometimes clearly presented as a bad thing and sometimes not.

basically, from my pov: a) it's not that deep for most people and b) censorship is bad. just because you (general you) find something uncomfortable or problematic is not a good reason to demand it gets banned or to treat everyone associated with it badly. history has shown time and time again that this kind of mindset leads nowhere good.

TW: w*ncest

thank you for sharing your thoughts on this with me, it's really interesting hearing your perspective on it all.

i would like to say i never meant to imply that all people who have read/shipped w*ncest have experienced abuse or trauma, and i'm sorry if it came across that way. i just wanted to acknowledge that a not insignificant proportion of them will have, and i think it's really important to be mindful of that as there is often a lot of hate and judgement directed at individuals who ship w*ncest.

i completely agree with you about censorship being a negative thing. i think it's important we can all explore the things we want and need to in our lives, the uncomfortable and taboo stuff included. that being said, protecting vulnerable people is also important, and so i think while censoring w*ncest isn't helpful, it's also important not to normalise or excuse incest and abuse.

i do think fiction and reality are very closely intertwined, and that the things that we're drawn to as individuals and society are very reflective of the experiences we have (both individually and collectively), so i have to disagree with you a little there. but i do hear what you're saying about the fact we read/watch/create lots of things that we'd never think of doing in our own lives.

thank you for explaining your take on this, i think you make some super valid points and i guess you're right in that for some people, reading w*ncest doesn't go that deep. i'm just interested in all the different factors that go into why individuals/societies immerse themselves in certain fictions.

i think it's important to remember that we never know what's going on for people and shouldn't demonise them for the things they might need to explore via fiction.

#asks #tw w*ncest

12 notes · View notes

bigskydreaming · 3 years

Text

I’m writing this scene between Lilith and Bruce right now, and I just cut a whole segue their conversation took because it derailed it too far from where I meant to take it and was more of a meta thought anyway.

So I’m just gonna verbalize it here so as not to waste that thought. You’re welcome!

But purely on a pet peeve note (and this seriously isn’t a response to something I read lately, I feel like people always think that’s what prompts everything I say but honestly, sometimes shit just pops into my head and this is one such instance lol) - anyway like, lemme just express real quick how much I LOATHE the term ‘mindrape.’

Like. Please stop forever with that, sci-fi and fantasy themed media and entertainment. That’s not a thing. Stop trying to make it a thing.

To be perfectly clear, like, the idea of a telepath or someone via some technology or magic being able to go into your head and view or pluck out your most private, carefully guarded thoughts? Abso-fucking-lutely something that can and should be viewed as a violation, in universe.

Its just....not rape. Its literally not.

I honestly do think that the rise of this particular term was because people thought about it and just HOW intimate and personal one’s thoughts can be, especially someone who is used to being closed-off and emotionally guarded, and when trying to come up with a way to describe this that captured the INTENSITY of the violation people were picturing when they imagined this.....that’s how people ended up linking it to rape as a way of conveying just how awful a violation it was?

But like.....rape is a very specific act, is the thing. It has specific context, it has specific catalysts, framing, fallout. Rape has its own name rather than just being described as a violating assault or an act of violation, because rape is a SPECIFIC act that carries its own connotations in our society. And those connotations aren’t something that entertainment should feel comfortable borrowing just to use as like, a benchmark for how awful a completely fictitious concept might be.

Because that dilutes the very purpose of giving rape its own name in the first place. The more its likened to an abstract sense of violation that feasibly encompasses pretty much anything that falls under the umbrella of personal violation.....the less it stands out as notably different from other forms of violation and calls to mind the things that MAKE it different, and thus warrant it being treated differently or approached in a specific way.

And here’s the thing about WHY rape has its own terminology:

First....there’s the fact that whether we like it or not, the simple reality is our society is obsessed with sex. We live in a very heavily sexualized world, where its often difficult to completely separate ANYTHING from sexual connotations. Its easier to make just about anything ABOUT sex than it is to make anything that’s remotely sex-adjacent about something OTHER than sex.

Now combine that with the fact that while rape is about power, and taking it from a victim or exerting it over a victim.....rape is INTRINSICALLY connected to sex. True, rape is not sex, its an act of aggression, not a sexual act. There is no way to engage in rape without simultaneously engaging in violence. There is no way for someone to consent to what is inherently by definition a stripping away of consent.

Rape is not sex. But sex is the VEHICLE by which a rapist takes or exerts power SPECIFICALLY. While at the exact same time, a HUGE part of why survivors struggle so much with getting the support they need in recovery.....is because due to how SEXUALIZED rape is in our society, in our media and just our very conversations of it, most rape survivors face the stumbling block of their assault and violation being viewed as more about sex than it was power.

Essentially, even though on the surface even most people ‘know’ that rape isn’t sex and rape is about power.....lots of people fall into the trap of looking at rape and thinking of it as sex gone wrong, or sex someone regrets, or tons of other thoughts that have more to do with sex than rape. Because from a pretty early age, anyone who doesn’t ALREADY have their own view and awareness of rape....has their view of rape then informed pretty much just by how its depicted and presented in media and entertainment. Where its of course heavily filtered through a very sexual lens.

So even while consciously KNOWING that rape isn’t an act of sex but one strictly of violence, entitlement and power....lots of people still have to contend with and push back against a foundation of it being more closely associated with sex in their minds, as the easily visualized IMAGE of what rape LOOKS like on the surface.....than other things it has more in common with once you look at anything OTHER than the visual of it, such as focusing on the motivating factors for rape and WHY rapists do what they do.

Theft, coercion, other crimes and concepts that more accurately reflect a rapist’s desire to TAKE what they were told was not theirs to take or to just degrade or humiliate someone in the most intimate way possible, or to turn a person’s very body into a weapon against them or to injure someone in a way that is meant to be more lasting or permanent in its effect on a person than just inflicting a physical wound.....any and all of these things have far more to do with why rapists rape than a simple desire for sex.

Rapists don’t rape because its the only way for them to have sex, even. Because even when rape is very much attraction based....its STILL not about just wanting to have sex with the person of their focus....its about wanting to have sex with them even despite being told no, or without giving them even the chance to say no. Even when a rapist ONLY targets a person because of their specific physical attraction to that person and their desires/fantasy to have sex with that specific person and not someone else.....the crime itself is still ABOUT stripping that person of their personhood in order to simply act upon them as the OBJECT of their focus/attraction...rather than any kind of a partner in a mutually beneficial or engaged-in act.

But despite all of that.....ask any non-survivor what springs to mind first when they hear the word ‘rape’....and chances are the resulting thoughts are more instinctively geared towards sex than power.

All of this is directly linked to our tendency as a society to view and treat and even talk about rape in terms of it most commonly being sex that got out of control. Despite the fact that no act of rape was EVER going to be an act of sexual partnership......because the very thing that turns something FROM sex INTO rape....is the MOMENT a rapist determines or feels that sex with a person is off the table or simply not what they’re interested in.....because they either don’t have or don’t WANT their victim’s partnership in what happens. They simply want to take. To steal. To use. To abuse.

Without exception.

Honestly, this got a lot more indepth than I was intending to go when I was just riffing off of a thought that popped into my mind about how I just really don’t like the term mindrape.....but a big part of the problem I have with the term is how indepth you basically HAVE to go in order to fully convey just why the term is so.....not a valid comparison to make to rape, with anyone who doesn’t already have an instinctive or reactive understanding of rape that’s more based on what rape TAKES than with how its usually depicted or talked about, where its in terms of what rape LOOKS like.

Because alllll of the above connotations and how important and central they are to any actual examination or discussion of rape....they simply do not carry over into a concept like someone reading your mind without permission.

Again, its not that such a thing wouldn’t be extremely violating IMO. It absolutely would be.

My point is simply that rape is always a violation, but violations are not always rape. SEXUAL violations are rape. But there’s a ton of ways a person or even something like a law or concept or even a freaking BUSINESS contract can be violated. And these aren’t interchangeable.

Are a person’s most intimate thoughts something incredibly personal, something no one should be allowed to take without permission? Sure. Absolutely. But imagine how else such a scenario could take place even in our real world, without needing a concept such as telepathy to make it feasible. Think about anything from someone reading a person’s carefully guarded or hidden diary or journal where they record thoughts they NEVER expect or want someone else to be privy to. Think about someone being tortured to give up information they’d be willing to give up their life to keep secret. Think about a burglar breaking into someone’s home when they’re not there and going through all their most personal belongings, leaving evidence that some stranger has been there and seen and touched all of that and you now don’t feel like you have the ability to keep anything safe and hidden from others, even in the safety and security of your own home.

Are all of these things different kinds of violation, most of which carry a great degree of intensity and personal betrayal or harm?

Absolutely.

But are any of them interchangeable with RAPE?

Or are they a bit easier to separate from from that concept once laid out to this degree, to see as completely separate and distinct things that may have some overlap but not necessarily even in the same ways or places they’re usually viewed as overlapping with rape as a concept?

Since I began this as a fandom related concept, lemme bring that back for a final thought.

Instead of likening other things TO rape, imagine if we did the same thing in reverse, and likened rape TO other things instead.

In terms of even just Batcharacters.....think about how often its been raised as an actual STORY point, that many Bat characters have shown a willingness or even tendency to cross all kinds of ethical boundaries and illegally surveil someone or intrude upon boundaries in the name of ‘the greater good’ or because they feel the ends justify the means.

Now imagine if all of those instances, no matter how large or small a violation....from a simple breaking and entering job to get inside a Rogue’s secret hideout in order to steal the location of their next crime....to putting bugs and cameras into someone’s home without their knowledge or permission and even just being able to spy on them naked or when revealing extremely personal information while thinking there’s no one else around to hear it, regardless of whether or not that’s what the character intends those to be used for or never actually uses them in that way.....

Imagine if all of THOSE violations were considered, viewed and talked about as not just breaches of privacy but as RAPE, specifically....with any relevant Bat-characters thus by extension specifically being rapists for having engaged in such violations.

And then, let’s flip the script back AGAIN, and now look at those instances where characters intrude, surveil, cross boundaries or invade privacies in the name of trying to save people or prevent tragedies or in the name of that always handy alleged ‘greater good.’

Try using that ‘in the name of [...]’ clause in regards to when and why a rapist rapes, and see how......not good that is. Has any of the above EVER been an ACTUAL justification for why someone rapes someone else? COULD it ever be? I know there’s the fuck or die trope and there’s more than a few variations of it in which one hero is forced to essentially rape another one or someone innocent or else the villain will kill them both, or kill the other person, or something like that....but even then, the actual RAPE is still on the villain or person exerting coercion, so no, not even then is rape being done in the name of saving/protecting someone or some supposed greater good. Its still the villain that’s doing the actual violating, that’s making the CHOICE to set up this scenario and limit the hero’s options to either ‘participating’ or signing someone’s death warrant....and just like sex is the vehicle by which rape occurs, the ‘raping’ hero is in this kind of scenario STILL just being used as a proxy by the actual person with the actual intent and desire to violate and assault the other person, and in being used in such a way, and in an inherently sexualized way themself.....it simply makes the ‘raping’ hero still not an actual rapist, but an additional rape victim of the ultimate villain as well.

See how complicated and messy this all gets, and how quickly?

And especially given that it doesn’t ever NEED to get there, in either direction, since there’s plenty of ways to describe varying types and degrees of violation with specificity, without resorting to ‘rounding up’ to refer to them as rape as a shorthand for expressing it was a particularly intimate or sensitive violation - and without losing sight of the fact that violations that result even in the THEFT of sensitive, personal information or secrets.....still only result in things like pieces of INFORMATION being what’s stolen, rather than someone’s entire bodily autonomy and personal agency.

Anyway, in conclusion the point is really just that we come up with the terms we do for specific reasons, and while language and contexts do evolve, grow, and even wholly change over time for a variety of reasons, it is important to take note of when that happens so we can determine if that change SHOULD be happening or if key contexts or connotations are being left out or overlooked in the process or wake of language changing.

And while I kept my point here limited to the example of rape and ‘mind rape,’ it applies to a ton of other stuff and topics as well. This just happened to be the one on my mind at the moment, but this kind of awareness can and should definitely be applied to a lot of other discussions involving sensitive or emotionally charged topics as well.

We come up with specific words and terms with INTENT. The creation of a specific term or phrase almost always involves having seen a NEED for such specificity in the first place, in order to denote key differences between something and other things it might be similar to but not fully described or encompassed by previously existing words or phrases.

Before treating concepts as interchangeable, we should always take care to make sure that they are, in fact, actually interchangeable.

11 notes · View notes

vampireqrow-moved · 3 years

Text

um its my birthday so wait until 12:01am pst to block me if u hate this post 🥰🥰

long story short the pansexual label is redudant and actively harmful (its far from the worst problem bisexuals face but it is one issue) and i dont hate anyone who identifies as pan because A) those ppl are bi like me and B) i used to identify as pan myself.

if thats enough for you to block me and make a callout post for me then i cant stop you but pretty please either read this whole thing or just wait a few minutes for my bday to end 🥰🥰

anyways im kicking off this point with some personal experiences bc i love to talk to myself. i got introduced to the pan label at maybe 10ish years old, and started identifying with it pretty much right away. i heard about it before bisexual and it was pitched as attraction to all genders and of course trans people. i was of course a trans ally! i had trans friends! i was trans also but hadnt figured it out yet! the way i had heard of it, there was no bisexual, there was no need for bisexual, and identifying differently was excluding trans people, which I was certainly against. being bisexual was trans exclusionary and why would i exclude trans people? the 'hearts not parts' slogan was thriving around this time and i genuinely said it and meant it.

as i started to become more online, mostly through roleplaying websites and tumblr here, i started hearing of bisexuality. it was supposedly an older term, so older people still used it, but it was common knowledge that pansexual was the better, inclusive label and younger people should adopt the new inclusive language instead of the old and transphobic words like bisexual. /s

and then bi and pan solidarity was all the rage! pansexual wasnt erasing bisexuality, why did anyone ever think that? bi and pan were two separate and complete identities that were valid and had to be respected or youre a mean exclusionist. and an asexual person, hearing people labelled exclusionist always meant they were excluding people from the lgbta community who rightfully belonged, denying peoples lived experiences, and generally telling people theyre wrong about their sexuality because theyre too young. and all of those things were bad and had hurt me, so it would be ridiculous to change labels and support "pan exclusionists" because they were just as bad as ace and aro exclusionists, and they were all the same people. or so it seemed to me at that time.

then, 'hearts not parts' began getting called out for blatant transphobic by insinuating that pansexual was the only identity that loved people for their "hearts" and personalities instead of those gross gays, lesbians, bisexuals, and even straights who only saw people for their "parts". (STRAIGHT PEOPLE ARE NOT OPPRESSED. I AM MERELY POINTING OUT THAT PANSEXUALITY WAS SHOWN AS ABOVE ALL OTHERS.) many pan people, including myself, began to denounce the slogan and insist pansexuality wasnt transphobic, there had just been a coincidence that a transphobic slogan was everywhere and a huge part of people's explantions of and associations with pansexuality. hint: it wasnt a coincidence.

from my perspective, this is when i began to see people discussing dropping the word pansexual. that seemed to be a huge step from getting rid off a transphobic slogan, and these people were just meanies who hated microlabels. and i like microlabels! as a genderfluid person, and someone who has friends who use specific aro and acespec labels, ive seen how people can use them to name specific experiences while still acknowleging their presence underneath umbrella terms like aromantic, asexual, nonbinary, lgbta, and for some people, queer.

pansexuals dont do that. they dont label pansexuality as a specific set of experiences under the bisexual umbrella, they see themselves as a separate identity, and even if they started to, the history of biphobia and transphobic undeniably linked to the existence of pansexuality in enough to stop being worth using. but i digress. pansexualitys shiny new definition that many people cling to is that pansexual is attraction to all genders. bisexual is two or more genders.

which. frankly? doesnt make any sense. my guess is that its supposed to be inclusive of nonbinary genders and those a part of cultures who historically have not had a binary gender system in the first place. i cannot speak for the latter group, but as a nonbinary person, its not inclusive. anyone can be attracted to nonbinary people. literally anyone. theres no way to know if everyone you meet is nonbinary or not. whether or not a nonbinary person reciprocates those feelings and is interested in pursuing a relationship is completely up to the individual, regardless of the sexualities of the people involved.

bottom line is that you cant number the amounts of genders someone can be attracted to, thus rendering those definitions pointless. people can be attracted to all kinds of people regardless of gender, even if they are gay, a lesbian, or straight. all people can date thousands of nonbinary genders if all people involved are interested and comfortable with it. numbering the genders you can be attracted to diminishes the post of nonbinary, as it is not a third gender, it simply any experience not fitting within the western concept of the gender binary (if the person so chooses to identify as such. if you cant tell already, the nonbinary experience is varied between every single nonbinary person.) important to note also that no widely accepted bisexual text defines bisexual as attracted to exclusively two genders or even the "two or more genders". i know this is used a lot but please read the bisexual manifesto. its free online i promise.

some people also claim pansexuals experience "genderblind" attraction while bisexuals feel differently attracted to different genders. this is very nitpicky for whats supposed to be two unconnected idenities, but thats only part of the problem. this definition is also not in any widely accepted bisexual texts, and bisexuality has never excluded those who experience genderblind attraction. i am in fact a bi person who experiences genderblind attraction. this does not mean i am not bisexual. it simply means i experience bisexuality differently than other bisexuals, and thats wonderful! no broad communities like bisexuality are expected to all share the same experience. we are all so different and its amazing were able to come together under the bisexual flag.

last definition, or justification i should say, is that yes these definitions are redundant and theyre the same sexuality, but people prefer different labels and thats okay. i agree in principle. people can define themselves as many things like homosexuals or gays or lesbians or queers or even other reclaimed slurs, while still not labelling themselves under the most "common" or "accurate" labels.

but pansexuality isnt the same as bisexuality, which may sound silly but hear me out. it has been continually used as a way to further divide bisexuals, who are already subject to large amounts of lgbta discrimination. "pansexuality was started by trans people who were upset with transphobia within the bisexual community! it cant be transphobic OR biphobic!" except of course that it can and it is. to say that trans people cant be transphobic is absurd. transmedicalism is right there, but thats not what im getting at. all minorities can have internal and sometimes external biases against people who are the same minority as them.

pansexuality was started as a way to be trans inclusive at the expense of labelling bisexuality as transphobic when its not. transphobia is everywhere, and bisexuals are not exempt. instead of working on the transphobia within the community, the creators of pansexuality decided to remove themselves from it to create a better and less tainted word and community, and the fact that pansexuality is intended to replace bisexuality or leave it for the transphobes goes to show a few things. pansexuality and bisexuality are inherently linked because the pan label is in response to the bi label. due to its origins, it is inherently competing with bisexuality and it cant be "reclaimed" from its biphobic roots. pansexuality is not a whole, separate, and valid label. its a biphobic response to issues within the bisexual community.

to top off this post, heres something a full grown adult once said to me. in person. she was my roommate. "i feel like im pan because im attracted to trans people. trans women, trans men, i could definitely date them. but not nonbinary people because thats gross and weird." she saw pan as trans inclusive and defined herself that way as opposed to bi which is shitty!

also a little extra tidbit about my experiences identifying as pan. i saw myself as better than every bi person. all of them. even my trans and bi friends. whenever they brought up being bisexual i would think to myself "why dont you identify as pansexual? its better and shows people you support trans people." because i was made to believe bisexuality didnt and was therefore inferior. thats the mindset that emerged from my time in the pansexual community. i am so sorry to all of my bisexual friends even if they never noticed. i love you all and hope you have a great day. this also goes to any bisexuals or people who identify as bi in anyway, such as biromantic or simply bi. love you all.

ummm yeah heres some extra reading i found helpful and relevant. here and here. also noooo dont disagree with me and unfollow me im so sexy 🥴🥴🥴

#if u have follow up questions ill probably answer them 2morrow #if u ask something just be nice its my birthday 🙄🙄#anyways time to tag this lol !#pansexuality #biphobia #transphobia #q slur #long post #my post #ask to tag maybe??

11 notes · View notes

autisticchicc · 4 years

Text

Autism and Love

TW: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse, drug-related metaphor

Love and obsession, for me, are separated by a very thin line. Even if I weren’t autistic, I know I would still love fiercely, but I also know that autism has a profound effect on the way that I feel and express love.

In my life there have been numerous occasions where I thought I was in love, and I often still debate with myself about whether I have ever been ‘in love’. Nowadays I tend to take the view that love is something very personal, and just because it doesn’t last doesn’t make it any less valid. Being someone who is still on good or even great terms with all of my ex partners, I’d say I absolutely loved them at one point in my life. Maybe I still do love them, but I live a strictly categorised life. That love is now a purely a platonic love that comes from knowing and trusting someone for a long time. That ability to categorise so strictly is something some of my exes have had a hard time coming to terms with, I am quick to move them into the platonic love category and keep them there. Once someone has been placed in the platonic category, they do not leave. I don’t get back with ex-partners, and I don’t actually think its possible due to that strict categorisation.

My very first boyfriend sent me a message the other day asking if I ever still think about him. I replied honestly and said that I do not. I think that this comes from the strict categorisation too. If you are my friend, I think about you, but not that often. I have a lot of things happening in my head at all times, a sensory cornucopia that is exhausting to sort through, a conscious stream of five or six trains of thought, and my special interests. Special interests are a really intriguing factor in the context of autistic love, because I believe that the intense focus and adoration we treat our interests with absolutely translates to the people we fall in love with.

Anyone who has been close friends with me while in a relationship knows how insufferable I am when I love someone. I talk about them at any given opportunity, for longer than the other person probably cares to hear about it at times. When I love someone, they become a source of great inspiration, I find the characters I write resembling them, I could spend hours editing pictures and videos of them, my artwork is littered with their image. Love, for me, is an all-encapsulating thing. It invades every aspect of my life, consciously or subconsciously. They become the most beautiful person in my eyes, I drink in their image as though dehydrated. Curiously, even things I perhaps did not like about them before suddenly become things I look at fondly. Something about that shift from like to love, it is a very powerful shift for me.

Ironically, I’m not very forthright with my expressions of love. After mulling it over for years, I’ve realised that I’ve been conditioned to believe that love and pain go hand in hand. When you love someone, you must expect them to hurt you. At least, that’s what I thought until I deconstructed why I thought that. I had become accustomed to people weaponising my love for them, using it to blackmail me emotionally or to excuse physical abuse. As such, although I feel so deeply for the people I love, I am always very anxious about showing it in ways that can be used against me. I don’t show them the story or the art that I created inspired by them, for fear that they might think me obsessed for spending so much time on something pertaining to them.

I get very embarrassed when performing acts of service for my partners. I enjoy tidying and cleaning a lot, and I often want to do it for my partners to make their lives easier, but I get scared that they will think I’m being subservient and that they can take advantage of me. When I see my partner enjoying something or fostering a talent, I desperately want to invest in it, buy them tools and find resources so that they can develop it further, but am scared that they will think me strange and over-enthusiastic. I’m the kind of partner that loves extremely hard, and wants to express it as such, but I cannot quite get over the shame.

I have only recently been able to engage in non-sexual physical touch without flinching. Learning that touch is your love language when you have been shying away from it for years is a strange thing. It almost feels like a betrayal of sorts. Why was I denied this thing that I love for so long? And the reality is, it was a part of that fear. I have to be vulnerable with someone in order to allow them to touch me. Vulnerability has never come easily for me, although I always desperately wanted it. Finding someone that I can entangle limbs with, that I can kiss and hug on a whim, that I can show physical affection in my ‘weird’ autistic ways with has been very therapeutic for me. For the first time, I feel like I can have vulnerability and touch without it being thrown back in my face. It feels desired and reciprocated, not only do I want to touch and hold this person, but they want to touch and hold me too.

Another lesson within that has been ensuring that while I maintain my tough, outer visage, I am honest about needing to be soft and fragile sometimes. I have always been forced into being strong and resilient, it was never a conscious choice that I made for myself. I was forever pushed to be strong for other people, constantly making sure that those that needed me didn’t have to see me struggling or breaking under pressure. I never had someone I felt I could truly cry in front of, ugly, drunken sobbing type of crying. At least not without feeling judged or treated like a flight risk. Having someone I can be unapologetically sad in front of and they don’t force me to be strong for their own comfort feels so alien to me, but the relief it fills me with is immense. I am no longer pretending, and I am no longer embarrassed to be fragile. I can break down in front of this person and they will never question my strength.

While crying and vulnerability are certainly an obvious hurdle for plenty of people in relationships, for autistic people there is the added stress of getting used to unmasking in front of a partner. I didn’t get diagnosed for a very long time, which will tell you just how good I am at masking. As a Hispanic girl, a lot of my behaviours weren’t reprimanded too much. Being loud and aggressive is normal in Spanish culture, and oftentimes isn’t even interpreted as aggression the way it is in the UK. Conversely, I did terribly with the tactile nature of social interaction in Spain and among Hispanics. I didn’t want to kiss strangers or even family members on both cheeks, I didn’t like having my cheeks squeezed by old women, and I didn’t like people touching, grabbing, or shaking me. But I was unfortunately forced to do it for my own survival. I don’t know if the sentiments around disabilities have changed in Spain, but the way I remember it in the part I grew up in was that they weren’t talked about. I didn’t even know what disabilities were until I came to the UK.

In England, pretty much every aspect of my behaviour was reprimanded; my loudness, my ‘aggression’, my opinionated disposition, my lack of a filter, my inability to understand my classmates’ feelings… The list goes on and on. At a certain point, I learned to just hold in a lot of my personality until I got home. What I didn’t realise that I was actually holding in some instinctive behaviours in privacy as well, I would flinch and stop if I noticed myself stimming, my face would go red when I couldn’t verbalise properly, and I often found myself practicing facial expressions in the bathroom mirror because I was self-conscious that I wasn’t doing them ‘correctly’. I started my own personal journey so to speak about a year ago to completely unmask, alone. I still cringe when I catch my arms pulling up into ‘t-rex’ form or if I start verbally/physically stimming, but I’m slowly becoming less ashamed of myself.

Consequently, unmasking in front of someone else has been incredibly nerve-wracking. The ‘issue’ (I say issue but it’s quite the opposite) is that I’m so comfortable in my partner’s home that I unmask without even realising it. Something I’ve noticed however, is that half the time they don’t. When my fingers twist and rub against each other, I glance up nervously to see if I’m being watched. No one has even glanced at me. I stammer and mess up my sentence, or my mouth fails halfway through, and yet even then no one laughs or looks at me strangely, they just wait for me to rectify or finish the sentence. I wonder if part of me still thinks I’m under the ultra-critical gaze of my secondary school peers, expecting to be torn to shreds verbally over my quirks as I always was, but it never happens. I have to constantly remind myself that I am well liked here, and my quirks are something people are fond of now.

Overall, love as an autistic person is intense and difficult, but an experience that is so all-consuming it feels almost like you’re on some kind of drug. I’m a very logical, science-based person, but love is one of the few things that still feels remotely magical to me. It can draw me out of my cold, black and white world and into an illogical whirlpool of emotion. I rarely act on emotion alone, but love is something that certainly has the power to make me do so. It embarrasses me a lot, it makes me feel out my depth, it makes me behave in ways I normally wouldn’t, but I’ll endure those feelings any day for the reward. I still have a long way to go before I can properly express myself to a partner, but one day I’d really like to be able to show them all my projects inspired by them, and the true level of sappiness I’m capable of (lol).

#autism #asd #aspergers #autism and love #asd and love #love #disability #disability and love #aspiegirl #neurodivergent #neurotypical #neurodiverse #autistic #autism spectrum #autism awareness #autism and relationships

19 notes · View notes

mmagazinemoment · 3 years

Text

Why my past loves make me want to look into nihilism as a lifestyle.

Good morning, midday, afternoon, or evening to you my fellow queers and allies and plain and simply gorgeous humans. You see I have already written another version of this edition but instead I have a pure heroine filled piece instead, and you may not be ready for it because it covers a few serious points but it’s also the (fuck your ex) vibe, not literally…unlesssssss * insert meme*. Thanks for joining me again my loves

Why my past loves make me want to look into nihilism as a lifestyle

You ever just meet someone and fall completely into their arms and become almost a complete and utter 3rd leg of the other? What I mean in all seriousness is, don’t you ever feel like the love game grows on you like a drug addiction and I know some of you will see this and be thinking? What do you mean “the love game” I know it’s not a game, a figure of speech as such. Basically, what I’m trying to say is have you ever loved someone so much that you didn’t see the signs of detrimental dysfunction.

Wow that all sounds so serious, let me dial it down a little, I’m just trying this new thing called being uncensored and not caring about preconceived notions of myself from external eyes. Months ago, I was shattered into a million pieces and I won’t blame just him because it was my fault for thinking every relationship or whatever it was, was going to end up like a tv romance, no that’s a lie. I over invested and blamed him for hurting my own self, sure he had something to do with it, but he wasn’t just to blame. Can’t tell me I don’t know how to take accountability (wow I’m funny).

For instance, in a movie you meet and lock eyes with someone and the breeze grasps your hair, when I met said person, I was like ‘omg he’s tall, I’m going to fall in love with a giraffe’ and then I tried to build a home in him, without the investment and time taken to be careful with my time and words of affirmation in efforts to receive reciprocation I never got unless it was backhanded or what I wanted to hear. So how did you perceive your first love? Did he/she/they look pleasing? Or was it the scent of their perfume or cologne? Did they dress in a floral vintage outfit or was it a suit and tie? Ballet flats or sneakers? Tell me? I want to know all of the juicy details!

I know some of you probably didn’t ask or ever want to know but my first love happened in a series of me closing doors journeying through my uneasy sexuality labelling and let’s be real, fuck labels am I right? (unless you find comfortability and closure under a label and with that you’re perfectly valid), Love to me was like heroine and in some senses it still is. When I first learnt of love, it didn’t feel like love, it felt like obligation, perhaps a trend. Love felt like learning all he moves to a Tik Tok dance as fast as possible before the hype disappeared, and it became irrelevant again, questionable reference point but blame social media not me. I was never satisfied.

Keep in mind this was 15-year-old me, trying to gain some sense of validation to seem a little less repressed and not confused because before 15 year old me realised that 12 year old me wasn’t as weird as I thought. I was under this veil of non-transparency and speaking on the subject of transparency I must tell you 12 was the year of age I realised that I wasn’t like the other boys at school, just swooning for girls and getting scared of cooties, I was just begging to be seen by whoever had eyes to care. Sounds dramatic I know.

Nobody was ever there to tell me at such a young age that there were others like me, “different”, the type of boy who watched rebel without a cause and felt weird when James Dean was looking so gorgeous and composed in that leather jacket or admiring Tim Curry when he dressed like no man I’d ever seen on a movie screen in or even real life in the Rocky Horror Show, something sparked in… me. I started on the smallest step I knew, acknowledgement, I knew I could find a home in the fact that there were more people like me, and wow I was right. I was finding comfort in what I knew, I found a few gorgeous women and obviously because of my age we thought that holding hands and a peck on the cheek was all we needed in life from the label of ‘relationship’, but it was only ever a weekly process. Anytime I found ‘love’ I wouldn’t know what to do with it without the chase, like a dog chasing a bone. Even to this day I have never had a successfully long relationship but at least these days it’s not because of my toxic traits, I like to think I’ve grown a considerate amount since I was 15. Don’t get me wrong, neither of those experiences were love? How could they be?

Ironically love happened even ‘after’ I was in a relationship. I had another relationship when I was 17, it lasted a little longer than the prior, it went for a month and a half, I was convinced I loved her, so sappy but you wanted transparency right? I have a lot of it. After that, my ex brought to attention after she cheated on me that I was using her as a sort of beard to cover up the truth about myself, I never knew how to perceive myself until then and that was only the second step, there was so much more to cover.

Skip forward past a few experiences leading up the near current, I met someone, a sort of fleeting romance, now (forewarning, this gets sappy) we talked for a few weeks if my memory isn’t hazy, and we quickly developed something no short of a connection. FaceTime after FaceTime I’d gather more and more pictures of his goofy face and at one stage, I thought I was going to be happy for the foreseeable future, then came reality. You can’t be loved by someone who doesn’t want to face themselves and you can’t help them anymore than what you’re capable of giving out. I didn’t listen to that, naturally things just got worse, and I hated everything…

He would apologise, I would validate his actions to friends who were concerned and realising that I was getting too soon attached and it wasn’t going to end well and I copped the consequences, I still have only recently not found regret in messing up this badly because if I didn’t make that mistake then I would’ve just witnessed those mistakes I made in the lap of somebody else and this is where the saying goes, better the devil you known then the devil you don’t. let me tell you it did more than a number on my mental health before I added up the reasons as tallies against us and internalised what I should’ve subtracted (hehe see what I did there). In all seriousness I wanted the thrill, I sure as hell got one.

Your mental health is amplified by your lifestyle choices and the people you choose to keep in your circle, friendship, or relationships regardless, the whole thing was out of whack and a tornado was nothing less than the accurate definition of where I was at, and it hurt a lot but sometimes it’s best to leave that situation if that person who you thought was going to be there for a while and a necessity to your life ends up being the detriment. (as Ashley Frangipane said) “its crazy when the thing you love the most is the detriment, let that sink in”.

If there is one piece of advice that I want whoever sees this to take with them it’s this, Keep your space sacred baby, you only have one life, but also please do not criticize yourself for getting caught in the motion sickness, sometimes you just can’t avoid it and that’s ok. Life is not a movie, life is more like the behind the scenes extra that puts everything into perspective, it’s rational and shows the hard work put in place to make the art and you should remind yourself as such. Remember also that if you cannot cope with all of the stress that presents itself in your life, that there are people that are equipped to help you hold some of the baggage for you until you are ready to take it back and analyse it. Whatever your grief is, I assure you, you’re not alone.

As always, stay healthy and strut your shit and I cannot stress this enough but keep raging against the machine and the super straights xoxo without the gossip girl, farewell until the next piece of The Mantra Magazine. *keep this in mind* next issue will be a little forward, it will include themes of segregation and war regarding the families of the Palestinians and Israeli conflicts happening right now. So, bring some tissues and an open mind. Farewell.

3 notes · View notes

palmett-hoes · 4 years

Text

since the first step in achieving your goals is to state them aloud, here's a list of aftg fics/ au s that i'd like to write some day

- pre-canon fic from aaron's perspective spanning the twins' first meeting till they're drafted by the foxes and graduate high school. i'm increasingly enamored with aaron as a character as well as with an outside perspective of andrew's actions and i think it would be very interesting to look at the foundation on which their fraught relationship is built and first developed

- even more pre-canon fic. andrew's early life in foster care. yes, we all know about the most... gruesome things that were done to him, but i believe that there is plenty more that has affected and shaped him, especially in relation to my interpretation of andrew as an autistic poc. this would not be a happy fic.

- anastasia au. neil as anya, andrew as dimitri. possibly a plot amalgamation from both the animated movie and the stage show, with changes as i see fit. (no, neil is not the prince of russia). what i find most compelling about this au is the story of neil and andrew as childhood friends and then the angst of having andrew, as an adult, teaching an amnesiac neil how to act like a noble while being convinced that neil is an imposter. good shit

- art school/dance club au. the foxes attend the palmetto school of art at prestigious edgar allen university. they're considered the school's charity cases, and they are NOT friends. andrew is a studio arts major with a concentration in sculpture who works in the campus coffee shop in the mornings and frequents night clubs that employ pretty boys in the evenings. neil is attending college completely on his father's dime, PROVIDED he study what his father wants, despite his desire to study dance and music. going crazy without an outlet, neil takes a secret job as a go-go dancer. look. this may slightly possibly be a result of me having planned to party hardy this summer, then having my plans ruined by the virus :c

- 1950s High School au. the 1950s aesthetics fucking rock even though the 1950s fucking sucked. kinda wanna tackle both. plus, andrew already has that james dean bad boy fast car appeal

- an exploration of mary and nathan's relationship and history. i get that neil's parents are both super taboo and both really really awful people, but i have questions and i want to answer them

- neil never returns from baltimore. in order to keep his deals, permanently, andrew kills riko and tetsugi, and gets over 20 years in prison. when he gets out, he just wants to be alone, but it seems there's a ghost haunting him. this was conceived for MAXIMUM angst, no getting around it. i got the idea from a badacts fic and it has haunted me ever since

- post-canon sexuality exploration fic. i have a real passion for quality sex education and healthy experimentation, and neil very clearly didn't get the chance for either. yet at the end of the books he finds himself in a very intense sexual relationship. i just really want to give him the opportunity to find out how desire works for him and what he likes, on his own terms. i read a lot of fics where neil's desires seem to be completely dependent on andrew's initiaton, and while i do believe that andrew is the only person neil is attracted to and will ever be attracted to, i also want to explore how his sexuality manifests on its own. the vibe i'm going for is, uh, HornySweet (tm), but also with a lot of genuine eductional material. i want this is to be something that offers real information to its readers that may have been inaccessible for a lot of people, on topics like like sexual hygiene, maturbation, and sex toys in a non-fetishy way. this will be very very E rated, but like,, in a very earnest and goofy way because sex and sexuality is neat and cool but it's also not all serious perfect fucking. it's just,, a topic that deserves to be DISCUSSED

- mobster au. andrew, having never met aaron, takes a job for the moriyamas to track down a runaway asset. Neil. upon completion, they make andrew the butcher's apprentice, and pull neil back into the fold as a commodity rather than a person. lots of violence, lots of shady underground dealings, lots of plotting, lots of secrets.

i'm gonna put some more under the cut, ones that i don't feel as strong a drive towards right now or that i haven't thought as much about. if you (yes, YOU) like any of these, or are interested in any of these, or wanna hear more about any of these, or are even inspired to write something yourself by any of these please, PLEASE, say something in the notes, or send me a message, or an ask or anything. ANYTHING. i am stuck inside, all the time, and i am so, so lonely. i answer from hoob-gooblin

- princess bride au. come ON. princess bride is one of the most romantic AND most snarky movies of all time, and andreil literally invented love and devotion sooooooo it's a perfect match. "yes or no" vs "as you wish" kings of consent and communication and unconventional love declarations. also,, he may not be how I imagine andrew, but a young cary elwes in dramatic black pirate getup is DEFINITELY a valid andrew

- hozier au. sometimes,, i listen to an album, and imagine a fic that encompases the whole thing. nothing speaks louder to me than hozier's discography. (also, yes, i am gay). maybe a little bit inside llewyn davis. neil wanders through a small town and takes up some small jobs, but sings his heart out through twisted metaphors once a week in a hole in the wall bar staffed by a very short, dead eyed veteran

- prince and the pauper au. on a stealth recon mission in enemy territory, andrew encounters a local lord who happens to have his face. in a moment of desperation to save himself from arrest, andrew knocks the lord out and assumes his identity. he returns to the castle just in time for prince moriyama to arrive with a shifty-eyed, red-headed handservant in tow. lord aaron of columbia, meanwhile, wakes up on a ship manned by crown traitor and fugitive kevin day, calling him by a name he's never heard before, and then he's in the hands of the guerilla rebel forces that have been attacking the kingdom. i watched barbie princess and the pauper as a child and that movie fucking slaps

- little mermaid/beauty and the beast/bride of the rose beast/ladyhawke au. in a last ditch attempt to escape his father, neil trades his voice and his tail for legs and washes ashore on a small kingdom with horrible secrets. because he cannot speak, read or write, prince aaron employs neil to serve the monster in the catacombs, the prince's twin brother. the twins are under a curse that turns them into terrifying monsters, andrew by day and aaron by night. aaron's affliction is a secret, as is andrew's humanity. this is such a hodgepodge idea lol. did neil also have to be a mermaid for this to work? no. is he? hell yeah

- new york private school/twin swap au. aaron wins a scholarship to a prestigious school that will guarantee him a future, but then he relapses. convinced he just needs a little more time to get clean, he makes a deal with his volatile new brother, andrew, to stand in for him at the school just until he can his shit together. neil and ichirou moriyama have been raised together their entire lives, always under the knowledge that ichirou will inherit the family empire with nathaniel as his right hand. they hate the idea, but they have no way to escape, and now neil is being harassed by ichirou's bitchass estranged brother at their stupid, fancy private school. LISTEN, we as a fandom do NOT take enough advantage of the twin swap possibilities presented to us. pathetic

- post-canon fic where ichirou, realizing that the life of a mob boss is a lonely one, decides that he needs... a friend. however, because of the nature of his work, he can't just make friends with anyone, so he decides to make friends with neil. without consulting neil first. cue a lot of very weird, very awkward coffee dates where neil is convinced he's about to be disposed of, and ichirou just wants to know about his cats. the thing i like about ichirou is he’s a complete blank slate. i can make him a good guy, a bad guy, an ally, the Big Bad

- Kill Bill au. mary survives a bullet to the head and wakes up from a coma over a year later. with nothing left to lose, she sets out to single-handedly dismantle the wesninski circle. good thing she used to be its top assassin

- single dad andrew au. except look, look, stay with me here, okay, aaron is his son, and he's adopted nicky and kevin. LISTEN. STAY WITH ME. JUST THINK ABOUT IT. tbh the idea comes from my interpretation of the andrew/neil/kevin dynamic as distincly parental, then extending that interpretation to andrew's protection over the rest of his family.

- fashion au. andrew is a fashion designer and photographer who frequently works with allison reynolds. one day she brings around a short, twitchy assistant who looks like she just plucked him out of an alley. somehow, he becomes andrew's muse. i watch a lot of fashion competition shows

- ghibli. either howl's moving castle (andrew as sophie, neil as howl) or spirited away (?). maybe both idk

- legally blonde au. legally blonde is so good guys

#aftg #fic #fic ideas #aftg fic #the foxes #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil

47 notes · View notes

apenitentialprayer · 4 years

Note

(1/4) First I'd like to apologize for the length and controversy of this ask. Feel free to ignore. I've struggled with homophobia, both internalized and externalized, for the past few years, and social media has made it worse. The more open and celebratory the community becomes, the more flagrant and obnoxious they seem in my mind and the more I want to distance myself from them. The worst thing about it all is that I feel very disingenuous when talking about the subject.

I put on this front to appear far more tolerant than I am, because while I whole heartedly believe that same sex sexual relations go against Scripture, I also know homophobia doesn't solve anything and is probably just as sinful. I have had countless conversations in my head where I tell myself that although same gendered sex is never valid, SSA individuals will always be valid as people. But whenever the subject comes up I just go down this wrathful spiral in my mind, though I never voice my opinions to anyone nor do I verbally insult people because of their orientation. I know that my anger is hypocritical considering the likelihood that I might be bi, which is why I said earlier that this may be partially internalized. But every time I see posts on how the church should accept gay marriage, or how the bible was just mistranslated, or emphases on queer subtext and the like. I grow increasingly more bitter and angry at how this is all being normalized and romanticized. I also tire of people saying it should be embraced because it is part of human history, but so are things like adultery and incest. I don't want to waste my time thinking about this, I don't want to hate others, I don't want to wallow in wrath, I don't want to be hypocritical in case I am indeed SSA. I've had this conversation in my head so many times, but I'm just so exhausted.

It’s sounds to me, and if I’m wrong about any of this let me know, that you’re coming from a place of hurt, and confusion, and anxiety about the state of the Church. That is what I’m gathering from the ‘wrathful spiral,’ the need to have ‘countless’ conversations with yourself, and the bitterness you feel towards queer theology (I really hate that word, by the way; its nature as a slur is ingrained into my subconscious, and it’s weird hearing my younger siblings use it in casual conversation). If I’m wrong about any of these points, feel free to correct me. Ironically, you’re concerned about the length of this message, and I’m concerned about the lack of information I have using just these messages. But let’s start with you, and work our way out, huh? There’s a concern here about hypocrisy. Don’t worry about it in this case. I’m hearing “might bes”, and even if those “might bes” turn into “probably ares” or “definitetly ams”, that still wouldn’t make you a hypocrite. You’re trying to live your life in accordance to what you believe to be right, and that doesn’t make you a hypocrite. It means you’re struggling, like everyone else. I’m glad you acknowledge homophobia is probably “just as sinful” as what we’re talking about, because that might make what I’m about to say more tolerable to you (I might get flak for this, but frankly, I’m kinda expecting a lot of flak for this whole post from all directions anyway): it’s probably a good thing that homosexuality is getting normalized. I believe (and I can’t believe this is something that will be controversial to some people; maybe it’s just the wording of the last sentence that will be, I don’t know, but I don’t know any other way to phrase it right now) that a world where people don’t have to worry about losing their jobs, being alienated from family members, or getting bashed (or worse!) is unequivocally better than the world we have lived in where those were all common. And we still haven’t reached the point where that doesn’t happen. My mom fears for the safety of my sister, and we live in New York City. Because a few years back, in New York City, of all places, a lesbian couple had a cup of steaming hot coffee thrown in their faces for being openly affectionate in public. That’s an abomination. Getting to the point where no one has to be afraid because of whom they are attracted to is imperative, in my opinion. And if that means that we have to deal with people outside calling us bigots for standing with the Church, and if that means we have to put up with people both within the Church and without trying to pressure the Church into getting with the times, well, that’s a price worth paying, I think. Christians have had it good for a really long time. Maybe too good, and for too long. We were able to crush those who threatened to put an end to us having it good. And if it comes down to choosing to crush more people to keep up the facade of a Christian society or becoming one of several minorities in a pluralistic society, I know the option I’m going for. But let’s talk about what that means for us Christians who are trying to live out the teachings of the Church as best as we can, huh? I think we can divide this into two parts that I’m concerned about; your exhaustion about the subject, and your bitterness towards the normalization. Let’s talk about that exhaustion. I don’t know what your situation is. But I’m in a place of constant tension; I have friends who are LGBT, I have family that is LGBT, and I love them all. And I... am anxious that one day some of them may decide that I don’t, at least not in the way that they need me to. And, frankly? That’s enough for me. I’ve got enough of that tension in my life, I don’t need to go out and pick fights over what the Church should and should not do. You’re having these internal conversations, and you’re feeling drained? Stop doing it. If you catch yourself working yourself up, take some deep breaths, and try to change subjects. The Church is a big Girl; she can take care of Herself. Not every single member has to be able to handle questions on every single little issue. If you can unplug from the issue completely, do that. You don’t need to exhaust yourself on hypothetical conversations, or Christians being mad at the Church hierarchy, or people interpreting the Bible in ways you don’t approve of. Sometimes, we have to take a step back. And I really recommend that, because this next part is something that we, as Christians, absolutely cannot take a step back from, no matter how exhausted we are: recognizing the inherent dignity of every person we encounter. You said you’re feeling embittered and angry and hateful, and try to distance yourself from people? That’s a no go. If you want a piece of advice? Stop seeing “them” as a coherent community. Because they’re not. They’re a multitude of people with various perspectives, and insights, and gifts to give to the world, with attraction (and the way the world reacts to that attraction) being the only thing that ties them together. It is unfair to judge a person based off of how “flagrant” or “obnoxious” you feel other members of the community are. After the Eucharist, your neighbor is your closest encounter with God. And remember that, while sin is sin, no excuses, there are sins that are only partially incompatible with love (there may be love mixed in with the sin), and there are other sins that completely incompatible with love. And hatred is the big one in that latter category. I don’t know if any of this is helpful. It might not be. I don’t know, it could just be a 2am rant. I hope it’s worth something, because I might get cancelled for this. So, sooooo cancelled. :P But if you want to keep sending anon messages to get into more specifics, feel free to. Or, better yet, if you want to message me for easier communication, don’t be afraid to do that either. I’m going to pray for you. I hope you pray for me, too.

#asks #homophobia #RIP me #I'm on the verge of begging people not to reblog this btw

13 notes · View notes

longformautie · 4 years

Text

Addressing sexism of autistic men

CW: gender-based violence, including murder and rape

I. Introduction

This post has been coming for a long time. And I mean a LONG time. My thoughts on this topic have been evolving constantly. They will probably evolve even after I post this. I am still learning and welcome feedback.

I was prompted to write this post during the pre-coronavirus Before Times, when I saw that the popular Facebook page Humans Of New York had profiled an autistic man who had become a pickup artist. For context, pickup artists are a group of straight men who will cynically do whatever it takes to get them laid, which of course means blatantly ignoring the needs of the women they interact with, and who share strategies with one another. The autistic man in the photo post talked about how before he was a pickup artist he was hopeless with women, and now he was getting girls - getting laid, even. He said he knew it was manipulative, but that it was only fair - after all, it’s not like anyone had ever sympathized with him for his social difficulties. I was curious about what people had to say in the comments section; turns out, I wasn’t satisfied by any of the takes I found.

The takes I didn’t like can be broken down into two categories. Category number one were formulations like “poor him, he just wants to be accepted.” I’m not even a little bit sympathetic to this take and will only be spending a moment on it. Suffice it to say, it’s hard to take these people at their word that they care about the autism struggle when they don’t show up in droves to the banners of the neurodiversity movement with this level of enthusiasm. Rather, we are part of a culture that likes to sympathize with toxic men. If the man wasn’t autistic, they’d find some other excuse, but since he is, in defending him they can also activate the ableist notion that autistic people are incapable of respecting boundaries. I choose the word “incapable” because if your position is that autistic people sometimes don’t know better than to violate a boundary, the logical conclusion is simply that someone should teach them. To sincerely and enthusiastically take up this kind of “poor autistic guy doesn’t know any better” rhetoric, you have to presume complete incompetence of autistic people and that we’ll never learn, so that when a straight autistic man does a violating thing to a woman, they can shrug their shoulders and say, “well, I guess nothing can be done about this.” This attitude is sexism and ableism couched in a delusion of sympathy.

Category number two of takes, I like lots better but still am not quite satisfied with, and can be roughly summarized: “This isn’t caused by autism, it’s caused by being an asshole.” While I agree that being an asshole is the main ingredient in this cocktail, I don’t think the autism should be dismissed as an irrelevant detail. I think there is a sexism problem specific to autistic men that needs to be separately talked about and addressed. I intend to do so in this post, without assigning blame either to the autism or to the women being abused.

I want to note in advance that this post will be cishet-centric, not because I think straight experiences are universal, partly because the behavior of cishet men is what’s at task here, but mostly because I have no idea how these issues affect LGBTQIA communities. If anyone is able and willing offer insight or resources on that topic, I’d love to hear from you.

I. Autistic men

Having experienced it firsthand, I can say for sure that autistic loneliness is a vicious cycle. By loneliness, I mean a lack of any social connection, not just a lack of romantic or sexual partners. Autism makes social interaction more difficult, which makes it harder to find friends, but, crucially, not having friends also makes social interaction more difficult. More people to interact with means more practice with social interaction; it also means more assistance from comparatively clued-in people who care about us. This vicious cycle can also manifest with respect to a subset of people. For example, an autistic child who only socially interacts with adults may have trouble forming connections with peers. For the purpose of this discussion, I want to focus on the problems this presents for autistic boys who want to interact with girls in their age group.

The scarcity of cross-gender social interaction during childhood need not be framed as a uniquely autistic experience. Societal forces sort us by gender from an incredibly early age, so the vast majority of our social connections in childhood are with people of the same gender. Furthermore, especially during and after adolescence, boys and men are discouraged from being emotionally close with one another. Thus, the norms of masculinity isolate us almost totally from peers of all genders. Our social connections with men must be superficial; our social connections with women must be non-platonic. For those of us who crave the emotional intimacy that our same-gender friendships lack, a romantic relationship is the only socially acceptable opportunity to forming a deep, loving bond with someone close to our own age.

Enter autism (again). Dating, when we hit adolescence, is wholly new to us, and we have been given no opportunity to adjust ourselves to its social norms. Autism makes this a particular challenge, as do gender roles in dating. Since men are supposed to initiate and women are supposed to merely give subtle hints (if not be straight-out “hard to get”), straight autistic men face both the pressure of leaping into an arena that intimidates us, and the bewilderment of not knowing whether it’s working. If I had a crush on you in high school, I probably kept it a secret; if you had a crush on me, I probably didn’t notice.

Worth noting here that none of the things I’ve listed are evidence against autistic men’s actual attractiveness or appeal to women. We are facing access barriers that accumulate over the course of our lives until we finally figure out how to start ripping them down, and when we do, we quite often do get to have romantic and sexual relationships. But the prevailing narrative about autism and other disabilities is that they’re unsexy, and a lot of autistic men buy into that. I myself thought I was one of those autistic men who’d never date or have sex until experience taught me otherwise.

Knowing all this, we can see why a lot of autistic men might feel both that they need a relationship to be happy, and that they cannot possibly have one. This makes us prime targets for recruitment, because the sense of personal injury at being deprived of sexual experiences for reasons beyond one’s control is as indispensable an ingredient in the various movements of the “manosphere” as the sexism itself. It’s not that autistic men are any more or any less sexist than regular men, but that the sexists among us already feel exactly the way these communities require them to feel: deeply aggrieved, and deeply desperate. Pickup artistry both validates this sense of personal injury, and sells itself as the solution: a set of simple, logical rules that, when followed, will grant success. But it misses the uncomfortable truth that while everyone deserves to receive love, no particular person is obliged to give it. This is a deeply frustrating contradiction with no easy solution, but the solution certainly is not to cynically manipulate women into doing the thing you want.

III. Allistic women

I never was a pickup artist, but that doesn’t mean I never harbored a grievance against women for my loneliness. After all, I thought, wouldn’t my perpetual singleness end if women were more direct and assertive? As such, I worry that other people who read this may end up pinning the responsibility for autistic loneliness onto individual women too. The previous section hints at why that’s wrong, but I also want to take the time to explain why it’s deeply unfair.

My autism and masculinity were first brought into conjunction (or was it conflict?) in my mind in my freshman year of college. One of my new Facebook friends shared a Tumblr blog called “Straight White Boys Texting” which was a collection of screenshots of unwanted straight white boy texts, running the gamut from simple inability to take a hint to bona fide “what color is your thong” garbage. I felt pretty attacked, partly because I wasn’t yet used to seeing myself as part of a “straight white boys” collective that people didn’t like, and partly because what I saw was a bunch of guys missing social cues and taking things literally, just as a younger me would have done. I felt like I needed to say something - and boy, was that a bad decision. I said something about how the women in the screenshots needed to be more direct, and got instant (and deserved) backlash both for focusing on the least important problem in the interactions and for placing responsibility for a male behavior problem squarely back onto women.

At the time, I didn’t have a coherent framework for understanding sexism. Since then, I’ve learned that giving a direct no can occasionally get women killed, and most often at least gets them yelled at and insulted. Giving a yes also comes with its own risks - the risk of rape, in (unfortunately-not-actually-so-)extreme cases where that inch of “yes” results in guys taking a mile, but also the more pervasive risk of being socially stigmatized as slutty or promiscuous. It’s often the most women can get away with to be subtle (rather than completely silent) about all of their wants and needs, so that a discerning man who actually cares will know what those wants and needs are and respect them.

This puts those of us who have trouble with reading subtle signals in a difficult position if we inadvertently cross a boundary, but that’s not a problem women can reasonably be expected to solve. If a man crosses a woman’s boundaries because he simply doesn’t respect them, he wants to make it look like it’s an accident so that he will be forgiven. “But Aaron,” you might say, “didn’t you just say that the right thing to do in those situations is to teach people the right behavior, not ignore it?” Yes, that’s true. But that assumes the continuation of a conversation that a woman might feel safer just skipping; if a man is making her feel uncomfortable, she’s probably not inclined to continue to converse with him in order to establish whether his intentions were good or bad. When we impose the burden of freeing males from loneliness onto women, we are asking them to continue to interact with frightening men at their own peril.

Ironically enough, some of these frightening men are the autistic pickup artists from part 1. This means that pickup artists, far from “solving” the problems with dating they feel aggrieved by, are actually making it more difficult for everyone except themselves by giving women one more reason to be scared and cynical, and men who slip up one more type of monster to be mistaken for.

IV. Autistic women

At first glance, it seems like there’s a choice to be made here, between supporting autistic men who want to be valued as potential romantic and sexual partners and supporting allistic women who just want to be safe. But what I’m realizing more and more is that when there seems to be a conflict between the needs of two marginalized groups, the right choice is generally to avoid picking a side and instead find ways to support both groups. This works well, not only because both groups get what they want, but because if a side must be chosen, the people at the intersection of the two groups will lose both ways.

Autistic women bear the brunt of every part of this mess, as described in detail by Kassiane Asasumasu on her blog, Radical Neurodivergence Speaking (see the links later in this paragraph). Because autistic men fear ableism from neurotypical women, we tend to believe that autistic women are the only partners who will accept us for who we are. As a result, autistic women report being swarmed at autism meetup groups by men looking for a girlfriend, and those men who struggle with independent living are more than willing to escape that by leaning on the patriarchal expectation that the woman does all the chores, even when she is an autistic woman who struggles with the exact same tasks. This means autistic women actually interact with sexist autistic men the most, and not only are they subject to the same toxic shit that allistic women have to deal with, but they’re also expected to “understand” these men and thus endlessly tolerate their (supposedly inevitable) shitty behavior.

V. Solutions

Fortunately, the choice between female safety and autistic desirability is not a choice we have to make, but the solutions are not as simple as members of one or the other group simply choosing to behave differently. Rather, they require the collective participation of all kinds of people.

Addressing autistic male sexism necessarily means addressing sexism. It means respecting when women say no, rather than making it an unpleasant experience they might fear to repeat. It means teaching consent in special education classrooms, so that no one can claim in good faith that an autistic boy who crosses a boundary simply doesn’t know better. It means teaching girls, as they grow into women, that they are under no obligation to tolerate sexist behavior out of sympathy for the sexist man.

But addressing sexism also means supporting boys and men as they escape the confines of conventional masculinity. It means enabling and encouraging them to have close friends of all genders. It means reminding them that they don’t need a woman, any more than a woman needs a man.

In addition to addressing sexism, we need to address the ableism that prevents autistic people from accessing not just dating but emotional closeness of all kinds. We need to stimulate autistic people’s peer relationships at all stages of life. We cannot do this if special ed teachers continue to view us as broken allistic people rather than whole autistic people, nor can we do it if they view us as incomplete adults rather than entire children. If an autistic boy is unable to learn about condoms because it offends the sensibilities of the teacher, or if he is unable to learn how to talk like a teenager because his parents would like him to learn to speak like an adult, then that autistic boy is being deprived both of autonomy and of the opportunity to learn.

Furthermore, we need to teach allistic children how to interact with their autistic peers. Autistic people need no additional incentive to learn how to interact with the societal majority who control their access to jobs, housing, healthcare, education, political representation, and much more. Allistic people can, however, choose not to bother learning how to support and include us and face almost no social consequences beyond not getting to see my cool maps. Rather than alleviating this unequal distribution of incentives, adults generally exacerbate it by focusing only on the social development of autistic children with respect to interactions with allistic people, but not on the social development of allistic children towards being able to interact with autistic people. This is because the prevailing view regarding autism is still that our modes of moving through the world are incorrect and defective, whereas allistic modes of social interaction are viewed as normal and valid even when they exclude others.

The problem of autistic male sexism is hairy and complicated, but if we take the above steps, we can solve it without further stigmatizing autism, and without victim-blaming women. We don’t have to leave anyone behind in this conversation. Rather, by fighting both for autism acceptance and consent culture, we can produce a more just world where everyone gets the love and respect that they deserve.

3 notes · View notes

rainhalydia · 5 years

Note

I wasn't in fandom at the time, so I'm curious about how you felt, as a Throbb shipper, about GRRM confirming Robb didn't love Theon as much as he loved Jon? And how did Throbb shippers in general feel about it?

Well, I can’t say how Throbb shippers in general felt. Not that happy, I’d guess? I can tell how I felt and still feel about it, though I didn’t see that interview until long after the fact so I didn’t catch any drama anyway. To sum it up: I don’t care.

A much longer, rambling word-vomit under the cut:

I think I summed up my feelings very exactly, but I kept thinking a lot about this ask and having lots of opinions, so here we go. I’ll preface this long-ass rant by saying I have no professional training in literary analysis. I just read a lot, overthink everything and had two classes in college about literature.

First of all, this tendency to give great weight - i.e., to care at all - about what writers have to say about their own work is completely foreign to me. I mean it literally - the main framework of literary analysis I’ve encountered throughtout my education was basically centered around the text, and I very much adopt it without even giving it conscious thought. I don’t seek out interviews, addendums, essays, anything at all. Sometimes I read it if they fall on my lap. Such was the case with this interview.

It’s not that writers don’t have things to say, or that those things are not interesting or valuable or sometimes shed a new light on their work. It’s that at the end of the day they’re not important! Only canon is canon. I don’t mean to sound snob or pedantic, like the books are law or something. And any canon has a number of valid interpretations (within limits), they’re not absolute, they allow some wiggle room. But any text needs by definition to stand on its own without writers poking their heads inside the room to say how we should interpret it. If we need imput from the writers to do it, then the text is already bad, it failed, sorry. Interpretation is the reader’s job. In fact, it’s the reader’s prerrogative.

Much of this hipe around authors, I believe, has to do with the rise of social media and how close to the public writers suddenly were. And I feel that applies especially for authors like Martin, who are very talented and have created a very rich world that has become really popular. And ASOIAF is still ongoing. It’s natural that everyone wants to pick at his brain and know where the story is going!

And here I make my second very unpopular point: authors are not specialists in their own work.

He knows more than anyone about it, certainly, and currently Martin is probably the only person who knows how things will end (though we have plenty of bare bones the show left), but he is, as he has admited himself, a gardener. The story was bound to get away from him, given his own writting style. The group of people who will be specialists on his work don’t include him, and they don’t even exist yet. They will only emerge when he’s stopped writing (so probably after his death) and his work has ended (if it was finished or not). Then people can read every single thing he has ever written, which is much more than ASOIAF, and analyse it to death, pick it apart from every single angle, the ones Martin intended to be there and the ones he didn’t.

Again, I don’t mean to come across as snobbish and say Martin does not know his own work, characters, creation, etc. He does! But no writer can leave all their biases behind when they start writing, so these books are not neutral to begin with. Add to it the lots and lots of variables readers will bring when they interpret the text, and any book is always going to be more than the author intends by default.

If my argument seems absurd, let me point out that it has already happened to a certain degree: my own interpretation from reading ASOIAF is that it is full of anti-war, anti-violence messages, and yet from it has sprung an adaptation that, in my own interpretation, glorifies war and violence to a ridiculous degree. I’m not alone in these opinions, btw. They’re pretty common in fandom spaces, so I’m sure I didn’t pull them out of thin air. We can argue until we’re blue in the face that the Ds can’t read anything for shit, they certainly don’t do themselves any favors, but you know, they interpreted the books well enough to correctly guess who was Jon’s mother and get permission to adapt it in the first place. I’ve since seen people (I’m not naming names, anyone still reading will just have to take my word for it, but I swear they do exist) defend that the show is a faithful adaptation of the books and that the glorification of war was there too, and others say that the show didn’t actually glorify war, it had an anti-war message! Who is wrong? Well, I don’t know. As I said, the GRRM’s specialists are yet to come, and I’m certainly not one of them. What I believe, however, is that all of us brought our own biases to the same text, interpreted it according to them, and came to different, often conflicting conclusions.

See also what GRRM said about the partnership between Jaehaerys and Alysanne and what most people made of their relationship from Fire and Blood. See the sept sex/rape scene controversy. See the Dany/Drogo controversy.

Do you get why I put little weight in Martin’s interviews to form my opinion? So given that and my own background, I’ll chose my own interpretation of the text rather than Martin’s apocrypha.

What does the book canon, and the book canon alone, say about Robb’s feelings for Theon? Well, unless new material is released, we’ll just never know for sure, because Robb isn’t a pov character. We do have Theon’s side of things - he has a certain affection for Robb, he’s more of a brother than his own brothers, he wishes he had died with him or at least that he had been there at the moment of Robb’s death, depending on how sincere he feels like being. We also know a little bit of what other characters thought of their relationship. Bran says Robb admired Theon and enjoyed his company, and it’s implied that he finds this baffling. He’s also jealous that Robb spends more time with Theon and other adults doing adult things than with his brothers. And though I’ve talked at lenght about interpretation and wiggle room to understand things, it’s also pretty evident that Robb is down to hear Theon talk about his sexual conquests in some detail as long as his brothers aren’t around.

Of course, Bran is a child and much as he loves Robb, their time together is cut short and Robb is not his main concern anyway. We get most material about Robb and Theon’s relationship from Cat’s pov. There’s a lot we can analyse and Damien had already done a great not-meta about it, but sadly he’s since deleted, thank you to the demons who got on his case, but for me the most damning piece of evidence that Robb feels very strongly for Theon is this:

“Robb will avenge his brothers. Ice can kill as dead as fire. Ice was Ned’s greatsword. Valyrian steel, marked with the ripples of a thousand foldings, so sharp I feared to touch it. Robb’s blade is dull as a cudgel compared to Ice. It will not be easy for him to get Theon’s head off, I fear. The Starks do not use headsmen. Ned always said that the man who passes the sentence should swing the blade, though he never took any joy in the duty.”

So to unpack what is going on: nearly drowing in grief, Cat rambles to Brienne about lots of things, including Theon’s impending death sentence. By Northern dumb tradition, Robb must be the one to behead Theon, his former best friend turned enemy, turned betrayer, turned brother-killer. And she says that it won’t be easy for him to do it.

Now, it can be argued that this is partly because of the sword. They’ve lost their sharp valyrian steel and Robb uses an inferior blade, not as sharp. I reject this interpretation as the only explanation (and here comes my own biases) because she mentions the headsman right after. A headsman might be more experienced, but it’s not like he’d have valyrian steel to do it either. Rather, I think she’s talking about how being able to pass Theon off to be killed by a headsman would be easier on Robb psychologically, but it’s not really an option, so Robb will have to suffer.

At this point, to Robb’s knowledge, Theon has: 1) betrayed his trust and used the ruse of negociations with Balon to escape; 2) attacked the northern shore and enslaved his people; 3) attacked and took control of his home; 4) made his brothers hostages; 5) killed his brothers; 6) denied his brothers the right to be buried in a decent way; and finally, 7) burned their bodies and exposed them for all of the North to see.

And after all this, having to be the one to kill Theon will make him suffer.

We know one of the moments Robb gets the angriest in the books is when Bran is threatened by the wildlings. He is the acting Lord and keeping his little brothers safe is his responsability. He nearly bites Theon’s head off when Theon saves Bran in a risky way and we know that was uncharacteristic because Theon is still sulking about that a whole year later. So his siblings are dear to him, but even after Theon does everything from steps 1 to 4, he’s still sure they’re not in danger and that Theon won’t do anything to them. That’s how much he trusts Theon. It takes literal murder to make him change his mind.

But then he does change his mind. He believes Theon did those awful, awful things to his brothers. After that knowledge has had time to settle in, after he believes the worst of Theon, he has this amazing convo with Cat that I’ll quote whole because it’s amazing:

“Enough.” For just an instant Robb sounded more like Brandon than his father. “No man calls my lady of Winterfell a traitor in my hearing, Lord Rickard.” When he turned to Catelyn, his voice softened. “If I could wish the Kingslayer back in chains I would. You freed him without my knowledge or consent … but what you did, I know you did for love. For Arya and Sansa, and out of grief for Bran and Rickon. Love’s not always wise, I’ve learned. It can lead us to great folly, but we follow our hearts … wherever they take us. Don’t we, Mother?”

Is that what I did? “If my heart led me into folly, I would gladly make whatever amends I can to Lord Karstark and yourself.”

Lord Rickard’s face was implacable. “Will your amends warm Torrhen and Eddard in the cold graves where the Kingslayer laid them?” He shouldered between the Greatjon and Maege Mormont and left the hall.

Robb made no move to detain him. “Forgive him, Mother.”

“If you will forgive me.”

“I have. I know what it is to love so greatly you can think of nothing else.”

Catelyn bowed her head. “Thank you.” I have not lost this child, at least.

So we know that what is going on here is that Robb is buttering Cat up before breaking the news of his marriage to Jeyne to her. One of the possible interpretations supported by the text is that Jeyne is in love with Robb and Robb is not in love with her. It’s a common reading that he married her out of honor and to avoid a possible Jon Snow situation. During their marriage, he seems to grow fond of her - Cat notices he likes her company better, and her brother’s, and that he laughs when he is with the Westerlings - but he also keeps some distance. She’s afraid of Grey Wind, which pretty much means being afraid of a part of him. In turn, he’s attentive, courteous, and a bit touched and annoyed at her public displays of affection.

Then there is this gem:

“His heir failed him.” Robb ran a hand over the rough weathered stone. “I had hoped to leave Jeyne with child … we tried often enough, but I’m not certain…”

And this is more Damien’s not-meta than my own, but once you see it, you can’t ever unsee it. Compare the bolded parts in that quote in the first Cat-Robb convo to the part bolded in the second one, put them side to side and tell me you can’t see the difference. In the first one, Robb basically spells it out that he’s made a mistake out of love, that love turned him into a fool, but it was stronger than him. At that point of the narrative, Robb’s biggest mistake (and notably it was HIS mistale, it was not a case of the narrative screwing him over) was to free Theon. A mistake that caused him to lose his brothers, castle and a significant chunk of political standing. The consequences of marrying Jeyne, which is pretty much only to lose the Freys, don’t even compare - especially because the Stark faction believes they can win their support back.

And this love that made him act like a fool is further described in the second bolded part of that quote. He loved so greatly that he could think of nothing else. That is some passion there, folks. Even considering that he’s trying to get Cat on his side, it strikes me as so sincere and heartfelt. And again, maybe it’s my own biases showing, but that sounds like an all-consuming love, the kind of love that doesn’t go away easily. I don’t see that same depth of emotion on the second bolded quote… they tried often enough. Does it add up with the first part? I don’t think so.

My conclusion, and forgive me if the shipper gogles come in, is that the love that hurt him, that consumed him, is the love he had for Theon. Not for his wife. But it was in the past, one might say. His marriage was just beginning, he and Jeyne grow closer, etc. I’ll quote two more bits:

“I cannot speak to that. There is much confusion in any war. Many false reports. All I can tell you is that my nephews claim it was this bastard son of Bolton’s who saved the women of Winterfell, and the little ones. They are safe at the Dreadfort now, all those who remain.”

“Theon,” Robb said suddenly. “What happened to Theon Greyjoy? Was he slain?”

Here we are nearing the Red Wedding. Some Freys come to pretend to make peace and pressure for a wedding to Edmure and they bring news of the battle of Winterfell. Professional writers don’t often abuse the “suddenly” like us poor fic writers, so when he says it was sudden, i believe it was sudden. I believe it came out of nowhere, in fact, and that Robb was the only one in that room considering Theon’s fate.

Roose Bolton removed a ragged strip of leather from the pouch at his belt. “My son sent this with his letter.”

Ser Wendel turned his fat face away. Robin Flint and Smalljon Umber exchanged a look, and the Greatjon snorted like a bull. “Is that … skin?” said Robb.

“The skin from the little finger of Theon Greyjoy’s left hand. My son is cruel, I confess it. And yet … what is a little skin, against the lives of two young princes? You were their mother, my lady. May I offer you this … small token of revenge?“

Part of Catelyn wanted to clutch the grisly trophy to her heart, but she made herself resist. “Put it away. Please.”

“Flaying Theon will not bring my brothers back,” Robb said. “I want his head, not his skin.”

Aside from Catelyn, who is torn, and maybe the Greatjon (I don’t know what snorting like a bull is supposed to convey), no one in that room approves of torturing Theon, they’re all rightly creeped out. But no one would blink an eye if Robb had ordered Theon flayed alive. Instead, he commands the torture to stop. Of course it’s the only decent thing to do, but let’s all appreciate how the character who is always arguing for peace, end of conflict and letting things go for the sake of the living and what can still be saved instead of more violence, is tempted by it. Robb is the only one who shares the full extent of Cat’s grief here, but he’s also the only one to try and stop the senseless punishment.

I joke all the time about how Throbb is canon, and it’s mostly jokes. They are not canon in the sense that Cat and Ned are canon, and I don’t think we’ll have any more facts added to their story together, there probably won’t be any flashbacks that hint at a romantic relationship between them. But looking at the text alone, what we have of it as of now, it’s possible to support a canonical reading for this ship. This interpretation is there in the text if you want to see it. In fact, some things make more sense if Robb was in love with Theon.

And you know, having a ship be supported by canon is not actually a condition that needs to be met to ship anything. It’s just something I particularly need to get into it. But even if you read Theon and Robb as just friends, it’s a reach to say that Robb didn’t love Theon.

Of course, we have Robb demonstrating affection towards Jon in the books too. He is Robb’s chosen heir, to Cat’s despair. Despite all the negative propaganda bastards get and the fact that the mother he so respected and loved disliked and distrusted Jon, Robb considers him a full brother, to compare to Sansa’s constant “half-brother” from the beginning of her journey. They’re seen having a good time together (they have a horse race in their very first appearance in the books, and Mance recalls them getting into trouble together as children), so they enjoy each other’s company.

Yet there’s also an undercurrent of sibling rivalry between them, seen from Jon’s pov. We have this bit with Benjen:

Benjen gave Jon a careful, measuring look. “You don’t miss much, do you, Jon? We could use a man like you on the Wall.”

Jon swelled with pride. “Robb is a stronger lance than I am, but I’m the better sword, and Hullen says I sit a horse as well as anyone in the castle.”

This is hilarious to me. My uncle paid me a compliment for being perceptive, a skill not at all related to martial skills! Time to compare my martial skills to my brother’s, even though we’re both 14 and there’s lots of more tried warriors in the world and we haven’t even had our last growh spurt! This is sure to impress a seasoned ranger!

Of course we know Jon’s rivalry towards Robb comes from his bastard status, but it’s interesting to me that it’s something that centers around Robb alone; he doesn’t compare himself to Bran or Rickon as far as I remember. That can be explained by their very similar ages and growing up together, I think. Jon has the advantage of being older than his other true born brothers.

Jon also says this:

Bastard children were born from lust and lies, men said; their nature was wanton and treacherous. Once Jon had meant to prove them wrong, to show his lord father that he could be as good and true a son as Robb. I made a botch of that. Robb had become a hero king; if Jon was remembered at all, it would be as a turncloak, an oathbreaker, and a murderer. He was glad that Lord Eddard was not alive to see his shame.

To Jon - and to the other Stark children - Robb is often the model to be emmulated. I won’t dig up all the times they hold him up as the ideal of bravery. Jon’s feelings are not unique in this sense, though they are when it comes to the rivalry. They all admire Robb. From Robb’s side, I don’t remember hints of him admiring Jon or any of his siblings. He certainly loves them, likes them, and enjoys spending time with Jon at the very least.

But Theon is the one Robb admires in text. Bran says it, and Theon too:

“There is nothing small about the letter I bear,” Theon said, “and the offer he makes is one I suggested to him.”

“This wolf king heeds your counsel, does he?” The notion seemed to amuse Lord Balon.

“He heeds me, yes. I’ve hunted with him, trained with him, shared meat and mead with him, warred at his side. I have earned his trust. He looks on me as an older brother, he—”

Readers often dismiss this as Theon’s garden variety empty bragging. To be fair, Theon very much distorts reality in his head to fit his own idea of how things should be, but this is one of the few times when he’s not doing that. He’s genuinely proud that Robb thinks so well of him. And since he’s so sensitive about what people think of him and people not giving him the credit he thinks he deserves, I’m ready to believe his account of facts this one time.

What I get from canon, regarding who Robb loves the most out of Jon and Theon, is that he loves them differently. He might even love Jon more by ASOS; it’s a wonder that we have hints that he still cares about Theon at all by the end, after the murders of who we know are the miller boys, but who Robb thinks are Bran and Rickon.

He had different relationships with them. Even if you reject the reading of Throbb as romantic, friends and siblings are not interchangable, even if you’re out there calling close friends brothers or if your brother is your best friend. It’s different sorts of affection. At the beginning of the series, Robb and Theon seemed closer to me than Robb and Jon - let’s not forget that Jon’s favorite is Arya, and the biggest family drama at that time has to do with Jon and Cat. They grow even closer as they go to war together, and then they’re pushed apart by circumstances and by Theon’s actions.

But okay, this is not long enough yet, so let’s say that this is an invalid framework of analysis and Martin’s word of god has as much weight as canon, and that in fact, we’re 100% certain that Robb loved Jon more than Theon.

Why does it even need to be a competition? No one holds it against Ygritte that Jon loves Arya more. Asha has a steady boyfriend that she’d gladly marry, and still she takes risk after risk for Theon. Ned was probably the greatest love of Cat’s life, but her interactions with her brother and uncle are still emotional and moving in great part because of the depth of her love for them.

Robb loving Jon more doesn’t take anything away from Theon. He doesn’t love Theon less because he loves Jon more, love is not a finite resource. And Robb loved Theon plenty, be it in a familial, friends or romantic way. If it diminished, that was a result of Theon’s choices alone.

#Anonymous #throbb #long post #and i mean long

39 notes · View notes

valiancyvulnerability · 4 years

Text

Adolescents and Mental Health

The years during adolescence present many complex problems that are often times very specific to that window of time in their life. Whether it be something as minuscule as schoolwork, school drama, boy or girl problems--These small issues can be the origin of deeper and darker underlying feelings and problems.

That being said, there are many more elements that play a role in what affects a teenager’s mental state than there would have been thirty years ago. Social media, the excessively greater amount of schoolwork, and the many problems globally that directly affect our generation. With this though, many parents may find it difficult to grasp a complete understanding of what could possibly be going through their child’s brain, especially when they don’t fully experience any anxiety, depression, etc. themselves. “What could you possibly be anxious about? Nothing is happening!” or “What could you possibly be depressed about? You are so lucky to have what you have!” These are frequent questions, which seems reasonable to ask from a parent’s point of view, but from the child, it’s like nails on a chalkboard. Here’s why:

For me, I ran into my worst struggles March of 2020. As COVID-19 began to take effect rapidly in our hometown, I found myself isolated (as I should have been--stay safe!). The complete switch in routine slapped me across the face. I coped with my issues my whole childhood by surrounding myself with my friends. As I am a very people-oriented kid that likes to keep himself busy at all times, the Zoom calls, texting, and social media got monotonous and lost its charm very quickly. During my time alone, I began to come to terms with my sexuality, and chose to publicly come out as gay, knowing it would be a good time to do so while I don’t have to be out and about and around my peers for long. Shortly after that, I began to have some eating issues that hit me in full swing. I stopped eating almost entirely, hated the way my body looked, and began passing out almost every other day. Once I tried to get that under control, my general anxiety took complete ownership of my being for a good month. I would sit in my room and shake, I would drive around and cry in the dark for hours, and I would pull all-nighters obsessively cleaning my room. Although I have these very real problems that took control of me and my life, they stemmed from minuscule things. It stemmed from different experiences I had in high school. I was bullied, I had friends that were demeaning towards me, and I had problems with girls throughout those four years. Each of those things seem small to me now, but they were very powerful at the time, and the traces of those feelings I felt then never truly left, and in fact, just built up to become a monster of sorts.

Now, this is where the role as a parent comes in. I had gotten in a fight with my parents one night about a month ago, and I went to my room and isolated myself from the situation altogether. I could hear them talking about me from my room, and I couldn’t take it. One of my biggest fears in life is disappointing my friends and my family, so it was hard for me to listen to. I went out into our living room and let it go. I yelled until my throat hurt. I spilled everything I had been feeling the past month and it was completely unrelated to the argument, but it came out. Because it was so out of the blue, my parents were quick to question it’s validity and it made me feel like my problems weren’t real because they weren’t real to them since I had done my best to keep it hidden out of their sight.

If you are a parent reading this and you feel or know that your child may be going through a mental instability, you have options as to how to help them.

1. LISTEN

This is the first thing I can’t stress enough. If your child brings something up to you. Whether they’re upset about something small, whether they are seeking medical help, or if they want to tell you about some serious inner conflicts they are experiencing, you have to listen. Don’t interrupt them. Don’t disregard what they say. Don’t say anything to make their problems seem smaller or less valid. When this happens, it truly feels like there is nobody that can assist them in getting the help they need, because nine times out of ten, there is a reason they are choosing to tell you.

2. BE ATTENTIVE

The signs of mental illness come in many different forms, and sometimes they aren’t just going to jump out at you for you to see. Sometimes they go through periods of overworking themselves, or doing the exact opposite and have no motivation to do anything at all. Sometimes they don’t sleep at all, or sometimes they don’t STOP sleeping. Pay attention to what they say, or if you notice any signs of substance abuse or self harm. There can be mood swings, sudden emotional outbursts (such as the one I mentioned with my parents), or constant states of feeling panicked or anxious. As I had said, not everything will be apparent or in plain sight, but if you make a point to look for these signs, it may be helpful in having a conversation later on, which brings me to my next point.

3. HAVE THE CONVERSATION

If your child hasn’t made it a point to talk to you first, but you have noticed some behaviors that worry you, or even if it’s just a conversation you want to have so they know that they are safe to come to you, don’t be afraid to sit them down and talk to them. Mental health, especially in teenagers, has an odd stigma around it, because the majority of us are trained to suppress and forget, when in reality, that is the most toxic and unhealthy behavior to become accustomed to. Make sure that you express to your child that their feelings and emotions matter, and just because they may be battling the negative ones, doesn’t mean they are any weaker than anyone else.

4. DO NOT REFUSE TO HELP

I cannot stress this enough: if your child comes to you expressing that they want to seek medical help, whether it be put on meds, to see a therapist, or request a change in your home that may be a better healing environment, do not shut it down. By all means, take time to think about it, but do not refuse to help. As teenagers, we can’t just go see a therapist on our own, get our own prescription meds, or change the dynamic of our families. It has to be a group effort, whether parents like the idea of it or not. It seems scary and concerning to go through the motions of getting your child medical help, but that’s exactly what it is: help. The alternative of assisting them is having a child that feels like a hostage within their own mind, and as a parent, I genuinely would hope that you would prefer a happier child that is healing over the opposite.

There are more positive steps you could take as a parent in helping your child, but most of them are specific to the individual situation they may be going through, and that is up to the parents to take those steps on their own.

One thing I can say to any teenagers that may be reading this, mentally healthy or not, be kind to one another. As cliche as it often sounds, you never know what somebody else is going through. We all come from different walks of life, with differing personalities and different thought processes. Many issues begin from the way we treat each other. This doesn’t mean you have to be walking on eggshells with the people you choose to surround yourself with, but it does mean that as a friend and peer, you need to listen, you need to be attentive, and you need to be there for them. That is what’s important. Wanting to improve your mental health doesn’t make you weak. It doesn’t make you small. It doesn’t make you helpless.

That being said, there is so much more that needs to be done. Conversations about mental health need to be normalized, especially in teenagers. Remove the stigma, be there for those around you, and be kind to one another.

#mentalhealth mentalillness teenagers anxiety depression eatingdisorders parenting

2 notes · View notes

swiftlymoniquesblog · 5 years

Text

Crossing Parallel Lines- Sam Winchester x Reader: Chapter 5

Chapter 5- Sam’s POV-*Time Skip*

Warnings: Pissed Sam (yes, still) fighting, yelling, cussing, lots of fluff throughout, softie Sammy

Word Count: 1613

A/N: I know everyone is confused as to why Sam is so mad but hang in there! It will all come together soon! As per usual, all feedback is welcomed. Requests are open!

Tag list requests are open!

Send me an ask!

Masterlist here

Previous chapter here

-Monique

I pace back and forth in my room, trying to come up with any logical explanation as to how in the world Y/N “accidentally” ended up in our world. She was from that other world, the one where there are, as Dean and I call them, the fake us. I mean, technically they are fake us because they play us on a TV show; a TV show! How bizarre is that? People actually find us interesting enough to watch on TV? Why? What about my life has been interesting? Okay, I guess the hunting supernatural beings is kind of interesting but it’s not a joke! This is serious stuff; people get killed. Wait, they don’t show that part, do they? Isn’t there some kind of law that prohibits gruesome material? I groan in frustration before a knock interrupts me. Before I even have a chance to think about answering it, the door flies open and in storms Dean.

“What the hell happened here?” He says, looking around the destroyed room before looking to me.

I shrug, trying not to make a big deal over anything. Although that wasn’t the truth, I didn’t need to lead to anything.

“Okay, then explain why you were being a dick to Y/N.” He says, folding his arms over his chest, eyeing me suspiciously.

“I wasn’t being a dick,” I say, walking over to my desk and sitting in the chair. Trying my absolute hardest to ignore the pressing issue.

“You weren’t? Dude, you practically yelled at her when she said she wasn’t from here! You made her feel horrible. We’re literally the only people she knows from here.” Dean began to lecture me.

“She doesn’t know us,” I say, not looking up from my laptop screen.

“Seriously? Okay no, she doesn’t the real us but she knows of us and that’s all we can give her right now. She has no one, Sammy.” Dean says, trying to plead with me.

“That’s not our problem.” I snap at him.

“Well, we better make it our problem because I sure as hell ain’t letting her leave! And you better not either!” He snaps back.

“Why do you care so much if she stays? How do you know if we can even trust her, Dean? I mean, what if she isn’t who she says she is?”

“So what? At least we knew we did everything we could’ve to help her. And I don’t know for sure if we can trust her but, don’t you think if she was against us in some way, she would’ve already tried something?”

“She could be planning on betraying us somehow.”

“Wow, you really think that low of me?” A third voice said, entering the room; her. Shit. She must’ve heard us. Damnit, Dean left the door open.

“Y/N, sweetheart, you weren’t supposed to hear that.” Dean says, trying to dissolve the issue.

“It doesn’t change the fact he said it.” She says in a cold tone. Wow, she’s pissed. She continued. “Why do you hate me so much? What did I do to you, Sam? Just inconvenience you?”

I kept quiet, which only seemed to piss her and my brother off even more. I knew I didn’t have a valid reason to be this angry but I couldn’t help it. She’s been here for less than two weeks and she’s already taken over the Bunker. It’s not like she had anything with her but Dean told her to buy some things to make the Bunker feel more like home while she’s here. That set me off; another argument with Dean and me. It was as if she was moving in but why? Doesn’t she have a home? People who are out looking for her? She can’t be okay with staying here, can she? Slowly, there were things everywhere that reminded us she was there. For instance, there were pink hand towels she had replaced in one of the bathrooms. Okay, it was her bathroom, we never used it, but still. I would walk by and see the door open and see all the girlie aspects. Then, in the main living area, there are candles that melt wax and it makes the room smell really nice. Actually, that’s not so bad, just different. And she bought this really fuzzy pink blanket that lays on the couch when she’s not using it but she’ll wrap it around herself when we watch something; she looks like a fuzzy burrito. When she walks past me too, she always smells really good, like coconuts or peppermint or something really sweet and sometimes really spicy and it makes me wanna take her and…..

“SAM!” Dean yells, snapping me out of my head.

“What?” I say, looking to Dean, then to Y/N, who didn’t look at me. I huff out a long sigh and walk out of my room.

“Oh no you don’t Winchester, you don’t get to get off that easily!” Y/N’s footsteps could be heard from behind but I ignored her.

“Sam!” She yells, still following me, but I keep walking, eventually heading outside.

“Would you slow the fuck down?!” She yells and I suddenly skid to a stop. I thrash around to look down at her, a startled look on her features.

“Go back inside,” I say harshly.

“No! Not until you tell me why the hell, you’re so fucking mad! What the fuck did I do that made you so angry?!” She is screaming at this point, so I give it right back to her.

“What you did? You wanna know what you did? I’ll tell you what you did, Y/N. You somehow manage to send yourself to another world by saying a thousand-year-old spell in a book of lore and you’ve turned everything on its ass! Everything was already difficult enough; we were dealing with the fucking Apocalypse; again! And then you came along and messed all that up so now, we have to change our focus from saving the world to sending your ass back to the right universe. We didn’t need this, Y/N! Did you even think about that? No, you only think of yourself! You’re exactly like us and it’s annoying. You think you know us because of that show but you know nothing. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” I say the last part and immediately wish I could take it back.

I was afraid to look at her but I did and she surprised me. I thought she would be scared of me but she wasn’t. She just stared at me, gears turning in her head. The rationale was long gone from my head right now so I do the one thing I’ve wanted to do since I saw her. We stood at the flank of the Bunker, what would be like a backyard if this were a house, and I shove her against the wall behind her. She grunts a bit by my actions but she doesn’t seem hurt. Her eyes wide, she looks up at me with a doe-type expression and for the first time that night, she looked scared. I still tower over her and she almost shrinks back by my force. She can’t move and I don’t want her to; she needs to know. I lean my head down just a bit so my lips were close to her ear and whisper, “you have no idea what you do to me.” She looks at me again, the scared look ever-present, and she remains still. I had one of her arms pinned against the wall behind her and my hand held onto her other arm so she was trapped.

I whisper again, “I can’t think straight having you around. You’ve completely taken over my senses and I don’t know how to shake you.” She looked to the point of tears but then I say one last thing. “I don’t want to shake you.” She opened her mouth to speak but I cut her off by pressing my mouth on hers. She seemed stunned, her hands gripped my arms, and I was afraid she was going to push me away, but then, she lost her grip. Instead, she had melted into the kiss, falling into perfect sync with me. I think both of us knew there was sexual tension built up between us but neither knew what to do about it. Her small hands were gripping my shirt holding onto me for dear life, and I gently push her further back against the wall. There was a ledge against the wall, large enough for someone to sit, so my hands trail down to her thighs, right under her ass, and lift her up to sit on the ledge, allowing a much better access point to her lips; finally, level to me. I push her legs apart so I could stand right between them, standing right in the center of her. I couldn’t really think about anything else besides the taste of her and just like I told her, she was filling up my senses again. When my head starts to throb in pain, I pull back to look at her. She looks disappointed but is panting, trying to catch up with her running breath.

“You have no idea how much I’ve thought of doing that,” I admit, taking some of her hair and tucking it behind her ear softly.

“Oh, trust me, I know.” She says and I raise my eyebrows quizzically. “I’ve been waiting for you to grow a pair and ask me out, or kiss me.”

I let out a throaty chuckle and lean in to kiss her again; short but sweet and very effective.

Forever tag list: @grace15ella @simpleboox @juju-la-tortue @marvelfansworld

Crossing Parallel Lines tag list: @fandom-princess-forevermore @lilulo-12 @hunting-the-grievers

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester #sam fluff

29 notes · View notes

alamanyar · 5 years

Text

[this has been sitting in my drafts since saturday. it’s super long lol but writing this all down helped me process the clip] i have to say that i liked the last clip (let’s say as a whole) of ‘This is why I don’t like you.’ and by that i mean the approach and most of its execution. maybe a few rewatches helped, and maybe a bit of distance helped, too.

the beginning sequence is badass. love the girls acting cool and goofy at the same time. great music choice once again. eva doesn’t mess around, does she. i do hope they will tone down her jealousy. i’m a bit concerned. the way she reacts is realistic and i get her, i do, i just hope she’ll grow soon, cause being jealous 24/7 is draining and i want her to be happy. the dancing sequence is fantastic. there are all adorable goofballs. (i hope luchì gets a line soon. know that i’m waiting). i hope we see more of this in the next weeks. those are only snippets, but they are great, because they show us friends having fun together. edoardo with his friends (the villa boys are slowly growing on me and we don’t see them often. thank you ludos). also for giving chico the screentime he deserves. the myth, the legend, the chaotic energy. i hope we get to see more of him together with edo. and if it’s a snippet of them dancing (?) together. edoardo is loyal to his friends, we all know that i think, but we actually see him having fun with them in a very soft way. you can feel they go way back. you only geek out with your best friends like that, don’t you? while he dances, he keeps glancing at eleonora who is enjoying herself with her friends. she has a lovely smile, i hope we see more of that as well. i feel like we’ve seen her more restrained this season. sure, we get a closer look on her since it is indeed her season. not everyone smiles 24/7 even if said persons is a literal sunshine. but i felt like she let go of the visible tension she’s been feeling on the dance floor for a while. i liked that part. when we see eva already drunk at the bar i already had a bad feeling. then come the two guys. i tensed. it was hard watching her talk to those absolute douche-bags. to those homophobes. they took advantage of her. and i was scared. then ele comes in and tries to get her away from the men, but it’s not working. eva is so caught up in her insecurities and her hurt over giovanni being with sofi that she seeks validation. ele is not giving it to her, and so she asks the men who had just spend a drink on her. she didn’t see nothing wrong in that in the moment. i can’t blame her, she was wasted. i hope she wouldn’t have the need to learn from this, but let’s be relastic, i hope she does. girls/women shouldn’t stop enjoying theirselves on a night out, and yet, they have to be attentive if they don’t want to be exploited. there’s always a possibility that people will do exactly that. and it sucks. it’s a sad and cruel world we [sometimes] live in. that being said, i appreciate how it was handled. even ele going to marti for help. a teenage girl asking her male classmate/friend whom she trusts to help her with dragging away their mutual female friend from men who are prying. it’s realistic, it’s real. it’s tough to watch. it’s not something that was shown in order to be realistic for the sake of realism. this is how it could go down. this is how it went down too many times for too many people. (one time is one time too much). this is how it will go down in the future. so what do the viewers take away from it? they relate. cause it happened to them. it happened to some of us. to a lot of us actually. they’ll talk about how real this scene was and how much it hurt. women, nor any gender, should get treated this way. will there be people who will be shocked with this scene because it felt too real? yes. it makes me sad, it truly does. if there are people who have watched this scene or similar scenes to this and weren’t aware that this is part of the realism we are living in, i hope this scene gave them something to think about. people who behave like the men in this particular scene probably didn’t watch this scene nor equal ones. but if people who think this scene was over the top or unrealistic, i hope they realise now that this scene wasn’t all of that and i hope they will change their view on what is okay to say/to do to a person who is clearly drunk. (look for the friends if they are not close, order a glass of water, make the person sit down). it’s a sensitive topic, but skam is about sensitive topics. this scene wasn’t a wake-up call for me. i know that this stuff happens every day. i, too, have been hit on. both during a night out and walking down a bloody street during broad daylight. i was even sexually assaulted during work when i was only a couple of years older than the characters we follow on screen. i’m glad they choose to tackle this topic. yk one second you’re dancing and having fun with your friends, the next you’re being hit on. it’s a puddle of emotions, yes, but we all know skam is like that. this was very intense, but i’m thinking it only raises awareness and it gets us (back to) talking about this sensitive topic, and hopfeully, to each other. that is what i took away from this scene. other than being scared for eva. moving on. eva shouldn’t have taken the drink, but it’s not her fault. it’s been a while since i’ve went out ending up completely wasted, but i’m not unpruned to react/behave like that even if i have a couple of more years on my sleeve. sometimes you do stuff you regret when you’re drunk. i don’t want to think about the times i was this level of drunk and nothing happened to me, because i was just lucky to be in a room full of normal decent humans. or it was because i just got lucky none of the assholes in this world tried something with me. it can happen to anyone, anytime. i’m happy ele had an eye on eva. this is also so very realistic. those friends who watch you when you’re going out together. you watch each other, sometimes one watches the others more closely and vice versa. those friends that walk you home/want you to text them when you’re home. when you’re safe. okay. ele goes to marti and marti’s face changes in a milisecond. bless his soul. bless his heart. bless martino rametta and everone who is like him. simple as that. he grabs eva and eva follows him instantly. their friendship, boy, i’m glad we get these snippets. but then the atmosphere intensifies. the story with eva beforehand was a good build-up, it really was. all my senses were heightened. marti drags eva away, he knows how serious this situation is. and yet he manages to stay calm. everyone who reacts like him shouldn’t be praised, because it’s decent human behaviour. and yet. alas. the men come on to him and the situations gets scary again or even more scary idk. he gets called a slur. he’s shoked, hurt, scared. all of it. but he won’t give in to these men’s provocations and starts to walk off. they don’t let him though. giovanni appears out of nowhere? no. he was standing beside him when ele came to martino. maybe he followed his action. he’s fierce in his protectiveness. giovanni is one of the kindest and warmest and softest characters in the skamit universe, but he won’t have you insulting his best friend. not on his watch. we’ve known that, yeah, but these seconds of him jumping between martino and the men are an amazing continuation of what we’ve seen in s1 and s2. as sad as it was watching him do that. he shouldn’t have to. but he did, and i am glad. i’m also glad elia came to the rescue. these boys. oh man. i am enjoying eleonora’s season. despite the change in releasing the clips, despite the dragging storyline concerning ele x edo x silvia. i am. and i’m excited to see where the rest of the season goes. i would give anything though to follow martino through his eyes for, well, idk, many many seasons. his season just captivated me. martino captivated me. marti x nico captivated me. fede captivated me. i’m sorry if this is annoying. this short scene with him though- for a second i was back in his head. i was back in season 2. damn. anyway, the way we react to things comes in different ways. this is where nico comes in. i think he didn’t hear what’s been said. i don’t think he acted ooc. maybe he was even asked to take sofi to the side. maybe the boys pushed him away, because they know how vulnerable he is. tends to be. he’s allowed to. and if it was his choice, i still wouldn’t call it ooc. we’ve seen him through marti’s eyes. we know he’s utterly vulnerable. it’s one of his biggest character traits. i think it would have been a bad call to make him jump into the fight, too. it’s not him. he’s like marti. he’d try to leave the situation. yes, the men were the ones who started it. all of it. with words, with aggression. they were ready to throw fists. i’d try to push them away, too, had they attacked my friends. where was nico? it’s all speculation, isn’t it? we see him and sofi for a split second in the background when gio rushes to marti’s side. we don’t know if he heard what it was all about. i’m thinking that the directors made a choice here. especially in the snippets of the aftermatch. why don’t we see his ‘concerned’ face? why is he “just” standing there (calmly even. maybe) with sofi and why doesn’t he rush to marti when the latter one is worrying over gio after edoardo and his friends throw the men out? (coglione. btw bless you, edoardo). it makes me think he didn’t know what was being said at all. i think he either didn’t know what the situation was about or maybe he thought it was about giovanni (and eva) after all. marti dragging away eva because ele wouldn’t ask gio for help in this particular situation, because he’s with sofi now. but then gio goes anyway, because someone tried to hurt eva and he still cares about her. maybe that’s what nico thought. it could be a possibility. another one could be that nico froze because of the fright. i really think there lies a reason behind him standing with sofi. and i think it will be resolved. they have been handling marti x nico with care (we’ve seen them in the bg and they are happily in love. we’ve seen it on the dance floor, too. happy boys happily in love). now, there wasn’t any concern in the snippet we see of him going to marti and the boys. there has to be a reason to it. it was all blurry anyhow and like 0.0001 seconds so what. there was concern at one point though, i’m absolutely certain. we didn’t see it though. and if it was because of him freezing at the situation, then so be it. who are we to judge other people’s reaction? those snippets of him in the bg don’t make me love his character any less. i know he loves marti and i know he’ll shower him with love more than ever and i know he’d never not care about marti. i’m not even mad at the decision to not show his reaction. he’s not the focus. marti has a bit more to it all. he’s a main and the whole harresment/homophobia scene happened with the three mains involved. i’m not mad (yet. lol), because i think there’s something following up to all of this and i’m positive we get the soft epilogues for marti x nico in the bg at one point. my shipper heart wants a lot of scenes with my faves. but this is also skam. a show that’s fast paced- you have to read between the lines sometimes. that being said, i thought this scene was difficult to handle, but i wouldn’t say it took away one thing from the other. eleonora x edoardo’s story is just beginning and like i said, i think we’ll get another look on the homophobia mention. i’m also thinking that this was maybe an intentional creative decision. one main/one ship gets a scare and one gets together. sometimes life is like that. very often so, i believe. people don’t have to like this of course. it didn’t upset me. eva being harrassed scared me. marti being cornered scared me. i could enjoy ele x edo, i just needed a few rewatches to let it really get to me. the conversation they have before she tells him she doesn’t like him was very well done. edoardo is so soft omg, giancarlo, calm down. i adore his approach on his character, i really do. i think he’s a great actor. i think, deep down, edoardo’s even one of the most vulnerable characters. there’s a sensitiveness to him. when his mother is mentioned, when he looks at eleonora and when you see how far he’s gone for her, but still wants her to be alright, even if he doesn’t play a part in her life. it’s acted out subtly but it’s also very visible, you know? he longs for eleonora to like him. he’s been trying really hard. i think for the most part he’s been respective towards her and i really like the growth we’ve seen so far in him. i’m excited to see where this will go. eleonora is scared of admitting her feelings. she doesn’t want to give in, but she also does. she’s seen another side of him by now and she struggles to keep up with idealistic views on men/human beings in general. she’s been soft for him in s1 and s2 already. when he calls her beautiful, she isn’t appalled, because it’s the way he says it. the way he conveys it. it has charmed her. when they talk on the balcony in illegale, she’s even more soft for him. little glances here and there. he challenges her. she likes it. and yh the whole silvia storyline doesn’t want her to go into to it and she tells herself that she can’t betray her friend like that and so on. but what do you do when someone you’re actually not keen on, gets to you in a good way? that’s eleonora struggle, her conflict. short intermission: i’m glad they didn’t make eva x silvia kiss each other’s faces off. if they don’t make one of them a lesbian/bisexual/, what’s the point? exactly. the kiss scene: i like that ele’s speech was cut short. it’s repetitive and edo doesn’t want to hear it. he’s hurt. obviously. it makes sm sense to me that he stops her. it’s been talked about how edoardo has been waiting for her for over a year. what about eleonora? i think she’s been falling for him for a while now, too. that’s why she runs and that’s why they don’t need any more words. it fits. i liked the thunder thingy touch. or whatever you call it heh. i thought it was done very well. maybe the rest is hella dramatic. not that the thunder thingy is not dramatic, you know, but some things are dramatic and some things are dramatic. anyway. i think the blurry take of the scene was a creative decision in the sense of that it was done in order to portray a metaphor which is that we aren’t able to see everything yet, because this is just the start of their relationship. we are looking at them through frosted glass. we don’t have all the details yet, and neither do they. the way it was shot certainly is growing on me. i like their happy faces. their smiles. they matched each other and it was wonderful to see. i like neck kisses so him kissing her jaw(-line) was *whistle noise* kisses in the rain are often cheesy. they are supposed to, i think. sometimes i like them, sometimes i don’t. i didn’t mind the rain in this one, it wasn’t as if it started raining on cue. scenes with rain involved also bear a metaphor and when it’s done right, it takes away the cheesiness of it all, or let’s say some of it, at least for me. rain usually means clearity, right? rain is essential to all living things. if it doesn’t rain, nothing will grow. and when it pours, it means it washes away your troubles, your negativity etc pp the rain in this scene probably wasn’t there just for the aesthetic (some say it took away the aesthetic. i think that’s something you can argue about), it was used, because it washes away eleonora and edoardo’s previous sins. if you want a dramatic appeal to it. it made them clean (again) and now they are standing naked in front of each other, because the rain got rid of their baggage, their dirt. ele had an epiphany on the dance floor that was long called for and she found clearity in the kiss under the rain. edoardo was defeated, he truly believed eleonora did not like him and after one long year of waiting, he gave up, because he can’t and he won’t pursue someone anymore who doesn’t want him. the rain washes away his sins, because eleonora accepts them now. she let down her guard and she sort of came down from her high horse. for edoardo it’s clearity because eleonora coming after him means that he didn’t imagine their connection and their banter. her clearity is his clearity. the rain implies that everything (for now) is settled between them. the coast is clear, so to speak. it means the start of their journey together. i admit that i didn’t care too much about their kiss that much at first, because i was still taken aback by eva and marti being harrassed and not seeing nico react to marti being hurt. and it’s not that we all have to like the same scenes or creative choices anyway. i don’t think the clip was bad because two massive things were happening. i don’t even think it was rushed. maybe that’s just me. with some clips you experience a rollercoaster of emotions. this one clearly was one of those. of course it’s absolutely okay not to like it or any other one. (or aspects of it). there’s still a lot to come this season and time for side storylines to develop. time for clarity and time for resolve. that being said, i know it would have been unrealistic for filippo to come to this party, but boy, did i miss him in that clip.

#skam italia #eleonora sava #eva brighi #martino rametta #eleonora x edoardo #martino x niccolò #who will even read this lol #and why am i posting this so late?#jsdfhaösdhf #alas that's not the point anyhow #skamit #cleaning out my drafts

35 notes · View notes