#who looks old enough to be their grandfather and their 15/16 year old mother

[rosalinesurvived]

Alright let me sort things out. Do you ever realise that Aegon is sexually active or at the very least aware at ten? Ever realise that he was actively taking Aemond to brothels at 14? Ever think of Aemond saying how Aegon thought it was his duty to do so?

Do you ever wonder how much of that stems from him witnessing his Father calling his teenage mother to his bed?

[justrainandcoffee]

“Good Morning” (Tom Hardy x fem!oc)

Part 1 of the series: “Only for tonight”

Summary: It's 2012 when Hannah received a call from an important executive to work with them. She's a great musician only until that moment she didn't have the chance to really show her natural talent. The BBC offered her the opportunity to finally do it and at the same time the opportunity to meet him. || Three years later, everything is very different. Two different realities linked by the same phrase: “good morning.”

Warnings: None. Although there's some angst towards the end. || This is pure fiction. All names are made up except his. Even in future chapters all filmography named here was invented. || The story is divided in past (2012) and present (2015)

Words: 2.7 k. || Remember that English isn't my first language. Please, consider leave a comment or reblog considering this is the first time i post this and still don't know what I'm doing 👉👈🥺.

Three years ago.

Hannah Murphy was born in London a morning in middle of May. His father was architect, her mother owner of a several beauty centres and her eldest brother was a neurosurgeon now working in Boston, United States.

Big things were expected from Hannah. Maybe being a doctor like Eric, her brother, or having a PhD in Economics like one if her cousins because first and foremost, the Murphys were successful people. Her grandfather, Mr. Andrew Murphy, was the one who designed the building for one of the most important corporations that existed nowadays in England. So, considering that everyone had their eyes on her, even as kid. But Hannah W. Murphy wasn't born with numbers and theories in her veins, she was born with music.

"You're wasting your life," her mother said when she was 10 and her father accepted to take her to a conservatory of music to learn to play piano. "Look at Eric, he's reading books that are for advanced students! And you're nothing compared to him, Hannah. Music! What kind of shit is that?"

But Hannah knew, even when she was 10, that music it was going to be her life. And she was right.

"Your daughter has a gift," one of her teachers said not longer after she started to study there.

But Greta Murphy, her mother, insisted on study something that could give her a name in the future and her brother thought the same as her. The only one who supported her was her father, Andrew Murphy jr, who was also the only one who went to her first solo in a theatre when she was 15.

Hannah was 16 when one of her plays, composed by herself, was part of a local play. Small, but it gave her some money and the hopes that her dreams could be possible.

Yet, when she finishes school, to stop hearing her mother for once, she decided to study engineering.  During those years, she didn't stop writing music but she just kept it to herself.

At the age of 23, she finished her career and threw the diploma in front of her Great. Hannah never worked as engineer.

Teaching kids and offering her music to different people who was interested in her talent, she was able to earn enough money to rent her own apartment and lm have her the freedom she was craving for.

Seven years later Hannah Murphy, 30 years old, was about to face the biggest change of her whole life.

She was walking Solomon, her black staffy and the most brainless dog in the whole world, when her phone on her pocket started to vibrate. It was an unknown number but she answered anyway.

"Hannah speaking."

"Ms. Murphy?" A female voice on the other side of the line made her stop walking.

"Yes?"

"Good morning, Miss Murphy I'm calling you in name of Mr. Henry Atwood, he wants to have an appointment with you, miss Murphy."

The first Henry Atwood that crossed her mind was the director and executive producer the BBC had and the brain of one of her favourite tv shows the last years. But the idea of someone calling her and saying that  that Henry Atwood wanted to see her was ridiculous.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand. Who's Henry Atwood? and how did you get my number?"

"Mr. Atwood, the tv producer," by her voice tone, Hannah believed that the girl considered her stupid. "I'm his secretary and I got your number because he asked for it to one of the directors you worked with."

"Scott?"

"Mr. Scott, yes"

If it wasn't because she was in middle of a park, Hannah could've screamed.

Travis Scott was a director working on a play and he asked her to help his team with the music. Finally after several failed meetings she ended up working alone and the final result in Travis's words was "the best fucking thing he ever heard."

That was four months ago but she didn't know that he knew Atwood and even less than he was going to receive a call from him. Or his secretary to be more specific.

"Ms. Murphy?"

"I'm sorry I'm trying to understand what's happening… I- the answer is yes! If he wants, yes of course I can. I just need to know when."

"Great. I'll make an appointment, then."

.

Two days later a very nervous Hannah was waiting for Atwood in the waiting room. It was perfectly tidy, with magazines on the glass table, some flyers prompting the movies and TV shows to come and some from previous months. The tiles shone reflecting the lamps on the ceiling.

Hannah felt stupidly nervous. Most people there arranged things thanks to secretaries or managers but she didn't have any of those. She had a dog without brain cells and she was sure Solomon didn't know how to talk. Although she did know that the staffy was the best to calm her and right now she needed his comfort.

Hannah would remember that day for the rest of her life. It was 20th of June, 11:30 am and it was a  guy talking about the European football league on the radio sounding in the background when he saw him for the first time. He was wearing a white shirt and jeans. He'd have been any other man but he wasn't.

"Good morning," Tom said to her who was sitting in the chair next to the office's door, so still that she wasn't sure that was even blinking.

"Good morning," she managed to say.

Don't be awkward.

Tom smiled before walking towards the elevator "call me, okay?" he said to the other man.

"I will."

Both him and Hannah look at Tom go. "Quite a character," he said. "You are Hannah, right? I'm Henry Atwood."

Hannah was still seeing the corridor where he disappeared from their sight and Atwood couldn't help but chuckle.

"Tom Hardy," she said "It was him?"

"Yeah, it was him. We hired him for future our project. And I have an offer for you, too, But please first, come in."

Hannah called Betty, her best friend, as soon as she left the building like if everything was a dream. All was so surreal that she needed something to drink and to eat to process what just happened. Both women went to a pub, ordered beer and fish and chips.

"The main theme?" Betty asked. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No, I'm not!"

"Oh, my god! Your mother is going to freak out and probably pass out. Imagine her telling her friends about this."

"She's going to say that the BBC isn't Hollywood and no one outside England is going to see it. And probably she's going to say that the music is horrible."

"She doesn't know a shit about music."

"But she does know how to destroy people. Believe me, I know."

"Then fuck her. Don't tell her a word, better that way."

"I won't."

"But you already signed the papers?"

"No. I mean I said yes, but I need to make it official. I'm going to read it tonight and then sign them. Fuck me, I can't believe it."

Betty smiled at her Hannah couldn't help but imitate her. That was a good day.

Good morning.

Hannah was very tempted to say to her about her seeing Tom inside the building, but suddenly she felt really silly.  What she was going to say? Do you know I saw Tom Hardy today and he said good morning to me? Besides, it was something so random and something that Hannah believed that wasn't going to happen again that she felt unnecessary to say it.

Next week, Hannah returned to the BBC building with the papers signed and her hopes higher than ever before. Hannah was happy and it was good. Not long ago she ended a relationship that left her with debts, without her motorbike but with Solomon. The only good thing the bastard did was abandoning the dog in her house. Solomon was just an eight-month puppy, playful and sweet, but according to his ex, he was just a waste of money. As if he himself wasn't a waste of money and oxygen.

So these unexpected good news was exactly what she needed. And her first salary was more than welcome.

"There's a meeting this Friday. The whole team," Henry Atwood said. "Including you."

"Including me? But I have nothing to do with the cast."

"That's the point. It's not just the cast. There are always new ideas to add or to erase from the plot, suggestions, new plans. Etc… maybe you can create something even more great if you know what it's this about. Can you come?"

"Yes, I'm free, so… yes!"

"Good then!" Henry offered her a big smile and his hand to shake it "Welcome aboard, Hannah."

Hannah preferred to be one of the firsts to arrive there instead of being there late. It was her first meeting and officially it was also her first day at work. It'd be considered rude to be there late. Not to mention that the idea of people looking at her was something she wasn't used to. Not without her piano as shell, at least.

The meeting office was big and chairs and tables were in a circle so everyone could look at the rest.

Hannah couldn't help but felt nervous. The idea of working for them suddenly hit her in her face with fury.  On her first day at work, she had to leave the office and find an empty place to calm herself. She felt sick and she was hyperventilating. Her mother's voice in her head didn't help at all "You're going to fail, because you're a failure."

"Look at your brother, head of the surgeon committee of Boston."

"Your music is quite mediocre."

"Shut up! Shut up!" she said to herself resting her forehead on the cold window that was in that corridor. The last thing she needed that special day was her mother and her awful vibes with her. "Please, go away."

Hannah closed her eyes and tried to think about good things. Her dog, her best friend, her piano… she imagined herself sitting in front of it and tried to breathe normally again.

"Are you okay?" A male voice brought her again to reality.

Hannah gasped and back off surprised by the unexpected company.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry," he said.

It took Hannah few seconds to recognise that Tom was in front of her, but when she did it, she rushed to reply. "Yes, yes. I- uhm, I was nervous and I felt anxious. I needed to clean my mind. It happens, from time to time."

"Are you sure?"

Hannah nodded as Tom walked to the water dispenser and offered seconds later a glass of water.

"Thanks," she said smiling briefly.

People tend to see celebrities as deities, not humans. Because of course they're people but also, they're beyond of what could be considered approachable. Not everyone could be near one. And suddenly Hannah was few inches away from a famous actor that seemed to be concerned about her. Like, indeed, any good person in the world could be worried about another. Famous or not.

"I started today," Hannah said "I think my brain felt I couldn't do it."

"It's normal, a new job make everyone feel nervous. You'll be fine. You'll see. What's your name?"

"Hannah Murphy."

"The composer," Tom said. His voice denoted surprised and he smiled at her "Henry talked a lot about you. You're a little celebrity here."

"Oh, please, no! I'm just- I'm not. I Just play the piano."

"It seems to me that more than that. Were you in the meeting?"

"I tried to be there before feeling sick."

"Come on, Hannah. They'll love you, don't worry about it."

Tom smiled at her again and something in his reassuring made her feel better. Together they entered in the meeting room.

___

Now. Three years later.

The apartment was still dark, the windows were closed despite the morning was a reality. She could hear the cars, people… even birds. Everything was the proof that outside those walls nothing changed.

Hannah didn't sleep in the whole night in that bed  that now semeed to be awfully big for her. The empty spot.

She didn't want to cry again, but new tears appeared in her eyes.

Where was her morning kiss on her shoulder? The beard tickling her skin? The "let's stay five more minutes"? His morning coffee, too strong for her taste, but whose smell was synonymous with the beginning of a new day?

It's not like Hannah didn't break up with another person before… but never before everything hurt that way.

Tap tap tap.

Solomon was wagging his tail against the wooden floor because he saw her moving in bed. Against all odds, she smiled briefly. She pat the mattress and the dog didn't waste time to jump and snuggle with her in a single motion. His big head was now on her chest and she caressed it with her hand.

"You're hungry, aren't you?"

The animal looked at her. He didn't know anything about broken hearts, empty beds and tears. But he could feel her sadness. He'd wait for his breakfast until she felt better. Solomon settled closer to her.

It was 10am when she finally decided to go out of bed. The sun was shining, the city was indeed awake long time ago. Looking through the window she'd say that everything was the same. Only it wasn't.

Her phone was full of messages from her family and friends. Especially Betty. But Hananh didn't have the energy to deal with them, especially not her mother that for sure was ready to say that she was nothing but a disgrace, not even smart enough to keep a relationship with the best man she ever found. And for the first time in her life, Hannah hated the feeling that her mother was right.

She sat on her couch with a cappuccino mug in her hands and some toasts on a plate. On a chair on the opposite side of the living room still was one of his T-shirts, one that she stole from his wardrobe and ended its days as her pyjamas. She didn't use it for a while and she didn't want to touch it now, afraid that it'd smell like him.

The memories of the previous night overwhelmed her. It was her fault, she knew. For being too weak. Her mother was right, she wasn't like the rest of them, never was.

The sound of a new message caught her attention. She didn't need to see who it was. That was his ringtone, she personalized it long time ago.

Hannah took her phone and read the message.

[Can we talk? Ily]

Hannah pictured Tom in his house with his own dog next to him. His phone next to his nose because probably his glasses were somewhere where he couldn't find them.

She ruined it.

She received a new message from him.

[Pooh, let's talk]

Hannah broke into new tears when she read her nickname. No one before him ever called her Pooh. And everything started the moment he knew her second name was Winifred. Winnie. Hannah hated the name and she always used just the W, as reference for it. But with Tom, Hannah learnt to love her second name, even before dating. Or maybe it was because it was him.

Hannah called Tom.

He answered before the second ring, for a moment no one talked until he did "Good morning, Pooh."

[mrchiipchrome]

Mothers

W.C.- 3k

Your mother didn’t plan on having you at the young age of 15, but after spending 9 months inside your mother you came out a perfectly healthy baby in the year 2000. She had the support of her parents, your grandparents, the second she told them she was expecting and they helped her raise you.

They took care of you while she was away in school and they helped drop you off at numerous football practices and games. You were there for your mothers graduation from secondary school when you were 3, and then later for when she got her undergraduate degree in nursing. When you were 16, she got her license and could officially begin her practice in the intensive care unit.

Nobody was prouder than you when she got it and you made sure that everybody knew that your mother, the one that had you at 15 had become a doctor.

Still, despite her intensive job she made sure to come and see you play at least once a month, to bring you to practice the days she wasn’t called in and to make sure that she told you that she loved no one like she loved you. When you started to play in the boys teams, ‘cause there weren’t enough girls who wanted to play in your town, she supported you. Everytime you came home with scraped up knees or a sprained wrist, she took care of you like a mother as she joked about you being her first ever patient with how clumsy you are.

When your grandmother died, you were nearly 17 and on the cusp of breaking into the senior national team after having outplayed some of the older players in the U23 camp and playing in the first team for your club. Now everything you did was to make her as proud as you could, her last wish was for you to make the senior teams both club and country. And so when you were 17 years old both her wishes came true when you got selected into the England Euros squad, where you actually got to play some minutes in the group stages and then in the closing minutes of the knockout matches. In the end you got a bronze medal and 2 goals in your resume as a substitute.

At 18 you signed with Arsenal and at 19 you were picked for the World cup squad with starting minutes. Unfortunately, an elbow to the face in the USA game had you sitting out the bronze medal match against Sweden, your eye socket and nose fractured. You had seen how worried your mother looked in the stands as you went down, not just from a mother’s point of view but also a doctors . It looked gruesome. But the worst part, you could do nothing as your team was losing.

But through the experience of the incredible loss you grew stronger, the will to win overwhelmed the little voice in your head telling you that it wasn’t possible or that you couldn’t do it. So you continued to train and get better, all while getting mentored by the Arsenal women and winning award after award along the way.

And now at 23, you’re one of the most accomplished youngsters in women’s football after having won the Euros and the subsequent golden boot. And now there was no one prouder than your mother and grandfather. You knew your grandma was watching over your every move and cheering you on from wherever you go when you die.

Winning the Fifa Women’s best player for the 21/22-season, beating out your teammate and the legendary Alexia Putellas had you shell shocked mouth hanging open like an idiot. But when you went up to accept the award, you credited your grandparents and your mother for your success before thanking your coaches. Now that trophy is located on a shelf at your mothers house like most of your other trophies, the only one that lays at home in your apartment is the medal you got for the Euros win.

People hadn’t really noticed your mother before the closing game against Bayern, where she had gotten a leave of absence from her workplace. She was the first one you went to, nearly collapsing into her arms at the sidelines before returning to your teammates to celebrate. Fortunately, the Arsenal media team managed to capture the sweet moment between the mother and daughter, later posting it to TikTok where they captioned it ‘Like mother like daughter’.

Unbeknownst to you, the video went completely viral with thousands of people simping over your mother. You were much too busy to spend unnecessary time on social media, so you had not seen the people obsessing over your mother or the ones asking if your father could fight. That was before you went on international break, excited to finally meet your girlfriend again after a few weeks of only being able to communicate over the phone.

—-

Stepping out of the taxi, you come face to face with St George’s Park once again. You stand still for a couple of seconds before walking in through the entrance, immediately seeing a member of the media team with their fist up. You spud them before continuing your walk to the front desk where the names of your roommates stood.

Your eyes flit over the paper before you find your name scribbled beside Alessia’s and you do a silly dance in your place, happy that you could cuddle with your girl after weeks apart.

An arm slinging around your shoulder has you coming to your senses, looking to your right you see your girlfriend standing there. You pull her in by the waist as you lean your cheek on top of her head just taking a moment to hug her and relish in her company before everything becomes hectic. What you don’t plan on is one of your bestfriends slamming into you and making all three of you fall to the ground. You hear Ella start to speak loudly in your ear but you can’t focus on anything she’s saying, not with Alessia laying on top of you, her body fitting like a puzzle piece to your own.

Slapping a hand over Ella’s gaping mouth you take a moment to relax in the silence, already knowing that this camp was going to be like hell if it continued like that. Alessia puts her hands on either side of your body before pushing herself up to her feet.

She reaches her hand out towards you but before you are able to grab it, Tooney has. Alessia starts the motion of pulling her up, but as she shoots you a wink you know exactly what would occur. Alessia loosens her grip on Ella's hand before she has time to react, dropping her on her arse. The lobby explodes with laughter before you pull yourself up, walking up to your room before going to sleep as soon as your head hits the pillow, Alessia joining you after a short time.

The next few days pass unnecessarily fast and before you know it you’re lining up next to Brazil, ready for the first ever women’s Finalissima. You dominated the first half going into halftime 1-0 up, and with your versatility giving you the ability to drive up the field and create chances while being able to also drop back down and help defend.

In the next half it seems like Brazil has woken up from their stupe and they start pressing in a way that has your defense scrambling and you realize that if you want to prevent Brazil from scoring you will have to help out more at the farther end of the field.

When the ball leaves the Brazilian players' feet, you know it is going into the goal and you can only pray for their penalties to not follow the same path.

You find yourself in an incredibly stressful situation as possibly the last penalty taker, it all depended on whether the ball hits the back of the net or not. Feeling strong hands place themselves on your back and a soft whisper of “You’ve got this” from your girlfriend has all your nerves washing away and your senses clear, the only focus on putting the ball in the back of the net.

Looking towards the crowd, you try to spot your mother and grandfather. When you catch sight of them you gain even more confidence as most people in the stadium couldn’t look on, your family just looked on with smirks and knowing looks on their faces.

You place the ball in the penalty spot, completely relaxed and calm despite having run around the pitch for a full 90 minutes plus stoppage time. The goalkeeper tries to distract you, jumping around and pointing at different parts of the net but you see the obvious dread in her face. You’re known for absolutely slamming the ball into the goal with an uncanny precision, especially penalties.

Kissing your fingers before pressing them into the shield resting above your heart, you start your runup. As you strike the ball with a power entirely your own you can feel how it’s going to hit the back of the net, it’s a feeling you’ve experienced many times before so many times that it’s become a staple of your matches.

The roaring of the fans confirm your thoughts and start running around the pitch all while expressing your delight through a loud yell echoing loud over the fans. Soon enough your teammates catch up to you and trap you in a tight embrace that you have no intention of escaping. As they start to depart from the team hug, Alessia and you remain in a tight embrace, covering your mouths when you speak to each other.

Whispers of ‘I love you so much’ and ‘I am so proud of you’ are exchanged before you are interrupted by a staff member informing you that the medal ceremony would take place in a short bit. You go and stand with your team as the shimmering medals are placed around your necks, walking towards the podium set up for you with a smile that could light up the entirety of Wembley.

Watching as Leah and Mary lift the trophy high above their heads has you feeling an immense sense of pride and joy. Proud to be part of this record breaking team.

As soon as you’re done with taking all the pictures needed featuring your medal, you’re off heading in the direction of your mother. Noticing the smile on her face, the one you inherited, has your feet moving faster in her direction. You grip the medal between sweaty fingers and pull it off, putting it around your mother’s neck.

“You’re the real champion here Ma. Thank you so much for being here today and supporting me, I love you” She replies with her own ‘I love you’, putting her fists up and doing your own celebration you made with her as a child by putting your own up and kissing them before double fistbumping her.

Staying with your family for a little longer, you depart from them to go and celebrate with your team. You barely reach your girlfriend before you’re whisked away for an interview with the broadcasting.

Putting on the headset and taking the mic from the staff, you hear the recognisable voice of Alex Scott flooding through your headphones.

“-And now we’re joined by the Euros and Finalissima winner, Y/n Y/l/n. How are you feeling after winning yet another trophy? I imagine you must feel quite ecstatic.”

“Spot on Alex, but yeah I am in disbelief honestly. Brazil were in form today and were incredible opponents. Yeah so this is an accomplishment we’re fortunate enough to experience.”

You spend the next few minutes speaking to the former player, talking about a large range of things before the topic of your mother comes up.

“I saw you were giving your medal to your mother earlier, is that something you always do?” Alex questions you.

“I usually give her all my medals and awards because I don’t have the space for them at my apartment. I've given her all but the Euros trophies as those are on a shelf in my bedroom. A reminder that I can do anything I set my mind to.” Your mother had always been the safekeep of your trophies, even as you reached adulthood she took care of them for you.

“Speaking of your mother, have you seen the comments circulating?”

Clear confusion lays over your face like a blanket, no clue about these ‘comments’ apparently regarding your mother.

“Comments? What comments?”

“You haven’t heard?! Oh boy you’re in for a ride.”

You can feel how whatever’s going to come out of her mouth next won’t be something you will enjoy hearing.

“Before you start, I feel like I won’t enjoy what you’ll say so before you continue I’ll need my emotional support human. Just a second.”

Sticking your fingers in your mouth and blowing, you let out a deafening wolf whistle loud enough to catch Alessia’s attention.

As Alessia turns towards you with her big blue doe eyes, you can’t help but practically melt under her affectionate gaze. Realizing that you are still on national television, you quickly wave her over.

When she stands beside you, the arm hanging by your side instinctively wraps around her waist in a protective grip. The same staff member that gave you your headphones hands Alessia a pair to be able to understand.

“Okay, so now that my emotional support human is here you are allowed to continue.”

Alessia smiles at the cheeky comment, the smile soon turning into a confused frown, not knowing the subject of conversation.

“I can see how you’re a bit confused there Alessia, so I’ll catch you up to speed. I was just asking Y/n if she had seen the comments under the Arsenal post, to which she said she hadn’t so I’m telling you both now.”

Judging by the mortified expression that crosses Alessia’s face you deduce that she most definitely knows exactly what comments Alex is talking about. You send her a skeptical look before telling Alex to start telling you about the comments.

“Arsenal posted a TikTok after the game against Bayern of you hugging your mother over the barrier. That video has gone viral, with thousands of people ‘simping’ over her in the comments.”

Even without hearing these comments you’re horrified, people hitting on your mother or thinking she was attractive wasn’t something new. It came with having a young mother but you’d never really been too bothered by them before. But now, knowing that thousands of people have the hots for your mother makes you want to crawl into bed and stay there until your last breath.

“Really?! My mother? That’s so weird on so many different levels bro…that’s just so weird and frankly quite gross. Don’t get me wrong, my mother is an incredible person, but knowing that thousands of people think that your mother is attractive is really unsettling. Now I’m curious about what they’ve said.”

Alessia nods along to your statement, knowing how much you struggled with seeing people on the internet thirsting for her and to now have people thirsting over your mom would make it worse.

“Ready? Okay, ‘Who was supposed to tell me that Y/n Y/l/n’s mom was such a MILF?’” Alex’s reading leaves you dry heaving as you quickly realize your mistake of wanting to hear the comments. Alessia pats your back in a ploy to comfort you all while holding back a giggle at your vivid reaction.

Continuing her assault on your ears, Alex recounts many different comments surrounding your mother and you have an equally vivid reaction to each one. Alessia keeps on rubbing your back in circles, though she can’t hold her laugh back anymore, the brilliant sound your only savior from the extreme embarrassment of the situation. Social media is already flooding with new memes of your reactions and you know that you’re going to be memed for the rest of your lifetime.

“Stop, stop! I tap out! No more. I love you Alex, but enough. Thank you for the interview, I’ll see you soon.”

You remove the headphones from your head and hand them and the microphone back to the staff before making your way back to the locker room, where it seems like people have already gotten a hold of the memes. Even Arsenal’s official page has plastered your reaction all over their social media.

When Alessia and you go and visit your mother a few weeks later, they’re both amused to realize your inability to look her in the eyes. Their apparent shared love for tormenting you makes your life a living hell over the next few hours and as you settle in your car to drive home you tell her,

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“No I’m not” She replies through a smug smirk.

“Yeah you are”

“Unless you don’t want to sleep tonight I’m sleeping in our bed”

You hate how well she knows you and your sleeping habits while she’s near. Your only response is a huff and Alessia knows that she’s won this time. You let her think that for a little before sneaking your hand onto her thigh as you keep on driving, paying little attention to her. When you feel goosebumps rising under your hand and see her shiver out of the corner of your eye, you know that you’re the true winner.

I kind of hate this, but it’s pretty funny so it’s what you get, and I would usually put a read more thingy on longer docs like these but I can’t figure out how you do it on mobile

[mpregandproud]

Isaac II (Part 4)

I can't complain that my rest period is being boring. Three weeks of bed rest and between my hot flashes, anxiety, late night feasts and the surprise of Sandra's pregnancy I am living this one full of surprises. If someone had told me that I was going to experience my sixth pregnancy at the same time I was about to become a grandfather, I wouldn't have believed it. And it wouldn't be the last surprise we would receive in the same period.

Sandra and Cal came home to talk to us. He apologized to us for making this mistake, still feeling very guilty “for having ruined Sandra's life forever,” as he put it. By the time the two of us came to see each other we had already spoken to Sandra, and she seemed more and more convinced every day that she wanted to try to become a mother, but apparently Cal had not processed the shock of becoming a father at 20 years of age.

It's normal for a guy who is in school, in the prime of his life, and a flirt, to feel like this is the biggest mistake of his life. But as Isaac told him, “sometimes from mistakes come the finer things in life.” The reality is that he and I got pregnant by mistake the first time… well, and the last time too. Without disrespecting the truth, Sandra was also a “mistake” for her mother and me, but I love her madly and if you asked me now if I would be willing to make the same mistake again I would say yes with my eyes closed.

Speaking about my pregnancy, it is growing faster than ever. At only three and a half months gestation, it feels like I'm almost nine months along. Of course, I'm not carrying just one baby, I'm carrying four. And if that wasn't enough, my husband is giving me enough food to feed our 16 children, including those I gave birth to years ago.

I've grown a beard and my hair is growing very fast. At another time in my life I would have visited the barber much sooner, or I would have asked Isaac to cut my hair, but for some strange reason this man likes me with a look that I consider unbecoming of me: fat as a cow and with facial hair. I guess this is synonymous with true love, loving someone no matter what they look like.

I've always wondered if I would be able to love him too if he looked fat like I do right now. I've never seen myself in that situation, but I drool over him no matter what he does, so I guess the answer is yes.

That week our youngest children returned from camp, so we had a house full of people again. The quietness vanished overnight, although as the summer went on they didn't spend much time at home either. Charlotte and Ivana partied a lot with Cristina, who also returned from her trip with her college friend. Svetlana, my sister's daughter, also went out with them. Dylan, Nate, Philip and Edward share a group of friends, so when they are not at their summer jobs they go out together to the movies or to a disco. My nephew Boris, my sons Jason, Ken and Bruce and my friend Lucas and Adam's son Daniel have made their gang since they went camping. Patrick and Lucas' son Isaac have become very close, so much so that they don't usually hang out with their brothers.

As for Sandra, she spends most of her day with Cal. I admire how well she is handling her pregnancy and how confident she is with everything. She has inherited that confidence from her mother that I was so enamored with in college. Shortly after talking to us for the first time to apologize for getting Sandra pregnant, Cal came home and asked her to marry him. He said that although he doesn't consider himself traditional, he thinks it's best for the baby if he and Sandra start a family. He told us that he had some savings after working since he was 15 years old, and that a year ago he had inherited an apartment in the village where they can go to live together. Although he had many doubts at the beginning, in a matter of days he seemed much more confident than Sandra with their pregnancy. He will be a good dad and a good husband.

She said “I do” immediately. I don't know if the pregnancy hormones have made her more in love than usual with her guy or if she was already deeply in love with him before discovering the pregnancy. Cal is physically gorgeous, a strong man who looks like he was sculpted by Michelangelo himself. I understand my daughter perfectly in this aspect. I don't know either if it's the pregnancy hormones or that Isaac still refuses to fuck me, but when I saw that man on his knees asking my daughter to marry him between our rose bushes I was about to run out and say “I do” myself. The hug I got right then and there from Isaac stopped me. Just kidding, as a father this moment was almost as powerful as when I was told that Sandra, my ex-wife had given birth and I had become a father.

The wedding-to-be became the talk of the town. The most handsome boy in town and the most beautiful girl together, as if they had taken this story from a movie. Although, in truth, in those TV movies the girl is not usually pregnant when they ask her to marry them. Long live love, but they are aware that an accident has brought them together. Holding my daughter's hand, he came to where Isaac and I were with our children watching the proposal and told us a phrase that made me love him even more: “I will take care of your daughter and I will make her the happiest woman on earth, I promise”. There are no romantic men like him anymore.

I don't think the next generation of our family will live up to Cal. Especially my son Patrick who is very uptight lately. Since returning from camp he rarely interacts with the rest of his siblings, he has had several arguments with Philip and Edward about things at camp that I don't quite understand and he is with Isaac jr all day long, who to him has always been his cousin, even though they are not really related nor do they share genes, since when I gestated them I did it with genetic material from Lucas and an anonymous ovaries donor. When Isaac and I agreed to be surrogate, one condition I set was this: not to share genetic material with the children I was going to gestate.

The situation worried Isaac and me, as Patrick is at that age where he is elusive with his parents. He had always been very affectionate when he was younger, but lately we haven't been able to connect with him at all. I guess it will be a matter of letting time pass for him to approach us again, but I don't know what to do.

The thing is, one afternoon, the day I entered my fourth month of gestation, Isaac and I were watching a movie quietly at home, while Patrick and Isaac were in their room when Lucas and Adam suddenly arrived. They were furious. “Where are they, get Patrick and Isaac to come in here and clear this up for us!”, he said showing us two pregnancy tests. I was stunned again, and that was one too many times in such a short time with so much pregnancy.

Isaac went to pick them up and brought them both into the living room. The look on their faces was one of knowing they had been found out. What's worse, Isaac showed us a third pregnancy test, also positive, just like the ones Adam brought in his hand. “You can see the surprises don't end,” Isaac said, as always trying to lighten the mood, although this time he looked very worried.

They both sat at the table together, staring blankly at the three tests on the table, while the four of us adults stared at them, waiting for an answer that didn't come.

“Can you explain to us what these are?”, I asked. ”I think it's obvious, Daniel, they are positive pregnancy tests. The question should be who is expecting a child?”, Lucas immediately cut me off.

Young Isaac mumbled something that none of us understood. “What did you say, speak more clearly, my son!”, said Adam who was still furious. “Both of us! Okay? Fuck, we're both pregnant! Shit!”, reacted Patrick. Isaac next to him burst into tears. My husband and I gawked at each other, as did Lucas and Adam. “What?”, the four of us asked after a few seconds of disbelief.

If there's one thing I love about my son Patrick, it's when he gets sarcastic. Do not misunderstand me, even if it gets on my nerves as a parent, I admit he gets very funny without intending to. “I'd explain the process to you, but I think you already know it. Especially you two”, he said, looking at us, ‘who have given us one example after another of how to get a man pregnant", Patrick replied.

“Patrick, don't make things worse,” my husband Isaac told him with a seriousness that is not typical of him, who is more inclined to defuse situations. Patrick looked at him angrily, because deep down he knew his father was right.

“We've liked each other for a few months now. In high school we started seeing each other on the sly. We know that a relationship between the two of us is like a scandal, since we were gestated by the same man. People think we're family or something, like those medieval kings and princesses who married their brothers, but everyone here knows the truth. At camp we were given a tent for the two of us, and that's where we found the intimacy we hadn't had earlier. One thing led to another and we ended up doing what you know”, young Isaac finally said. All the anger with which Patrick speaks contrasts with how clear Isaac II, as my sister once called him, is when he has to explain something.

“Is that the reason why you are constantly arguing with your older siblings?”, I asked Patrick, lowering the tone of the conversation. I know we were very insensitive before, so deep down I also wanted everything to relax, since the damage had already been done.

“Yes, partly yes, although they don't know anything about it. Turns out Edward found us fucking in the tent, and told Philip. They both gave us a hell of a telling off. We tried to convince them that we really loved each other, that we were serious, but they wanted nothing to do with it. They said that between cousins this is not right. And although they know perfectly well that genetically we don't share anything, they refused to listen to reason,” Patrick replied. I know my son and I know he was more angry that they didn't understand his relationship with his boyfriend than the fact that they got pregnant each other. He really cares about his boyfriend.

“What about the third test?”, suddenly asked Adam. We had all forgotten about the test Isaac brought in his hand, but there it was, on the table. If they had already taken two tests, why did they need a third.

“It's mine too”, Patrick said. “We both took the test at Isaac's house. We were so shocked that we needed to know if it could have been a false positive, so we were going to take another test to confirm it”, he continued. “That test is mine, and his is hid in a drawer in my room. Both positive, so there are no doubts. We are definitely expecting children”, he finished.

“16 and pregnant, looks like an MTV show,” Isaac apostilled. The two young men didn't understand the reference, but Lucas, Adam and I looked at my husband wondering how this man already in his 50's is able to blurt out these comments at this time. It's his trademark.

Go to Part 5

[atopvisenyashill]

any thoughts about how could it be the dynamic between viserys-naerys- daeron ii in fire & blood 2?

okay so straight up the dynamic i’m MOST interested in learning about in f&b2 is the viserys-naerys-daeron ii dynamic. first of all, those first two are just UNGODLY DISTURBINGLY YOUNG when they have children. viserys has naerys, his YOUNGEST child when he is sixteen. naerys has daeron when she is fifteen. viserys is a grandfather before he is 32 years old. it is truly babies raising babies out here!! i mean fuck, daeron has baelor under significantly less traumatic circumstances but he’s still only 17 by the time he starts having kids! that’s all just wildly interesting and disturbing to me. like, that alone, how close in age they all are because they all married & started having kids at crazy young ages, explains so much about why this period has always felt particularly deranged to me (“this period” being post dance where we get this incredible string of deranged freaks from aegon iii to aegon iv that ebbs into this vaguely “we’re having a targ renaissance yay” era that erupts into civil war anyways! i LOVE this conceptually i’m so ready to be annoyed when f&b2 comes out and i’ve hyped this all up for some more dumb sex stories from another court fool ajsjs).

but then secondly, okay, when you look at the timeline- daeron is born in 153 and the birth nearly kills naerys 15/16 year old naerys. aegon iii is still king for four more years. that last year, aegon iv spends his time (and the next two years after that) shacked up with megette. then aegon spends a few years shacked up/probably raping casella vaith the hostage, before running off to war. then he spends more time raping naerys, wherein she has a miscarriage, and aegon is sent away so he doesn’t rape her to death. daeron marries myriah, has a child with her. but before that child is two, in quick succession, his father comes back home & immediately starts raping his mother again, his mother nearly dies having twins & now he has a sister younger than his son, and daena unveils her new bastard who everyone thinks is aegon’s, and baelor is so distraught by all this he fasts himself to death. viserys is king, and likely dead before daeron’s second son is born and before daeron turns twenty. suddenly the person responsible for making sure aegon doesn’t rape naerys to death are daeron & aemon, who have NO authority over aegon. this man has the audacity to stay alive for twelve more years.

that shit is insane. daeron’s father is only around when he’s raping his mom. the closest things daeron has to a father figure are his uncle who wants to fuck his mom, his grandfather who is probably busy constantly (and also only in his thirties 😭), and his batshit insane cousin baelor. his childhood is marked by almost constant instability until it stabilizes for the worse when his cousins all get locked in the maidenvault, then gets thrown into upheaval once again as baelor & viserys die and now his dad who is only around when he’s raping his mom is suddenly back in town and has total control.

and naerys. she’s like if aemma lived long enough to parent her kids, but worse bc you could argue there was fondness of a sort between aemma & viserys. aegon and naerys hate each other. she is constantly pregnant and on death’s door from the age of fifteen (three years older than her father!) until the day she dies, in her early 40s. it sounds like worse than hell to me. it is a lifetime where the only source of comfort you have is the son you birthed at fifteen, because maybe your life is a nightmare but if you raise him to be marginally less evil, he won’t destroy the innocent little girl you know is going to be sent to court to be his wife. everyone else is actively holding you hostage and applauding you for taking the abuse so well. your whole life is screaming for help and all you get is tears telling you you’re so dutiful and brave.

and viserys just. watches it all happen. of course he does! his kids are simply ungrateful! he had to get married at twelve and his wife wasn’t born in westeros so they had nothing in common and at least they have a living father, they have no idea how lucky they are. why should daeron and naerys blame him when he gave them everything because he had nothing? it’s a shame it wasn’t naerys that offed this man. i do think she was his favorite kid tho and i bet he’s not subtle about it at all.

[askbensolo]

Ask Ben Solo

What’s up, HoloNet! The name’s Ben. Currently 23 years old. I’m the only son of an Alderaanian princess and a Corellian scoundrel, and I have an adopted sister named Rey.

I started this blog when I was fifteen and afraid of becoming a Jedi. To make things worse, I started hearing voices in my head…voices that turned out to be someone who wanted to control me. Luckily, my friends and family got involved, and Snoke seems to have backed off.

I did make friends with some of Uncle Luke’s Jedi students, but I ended up attending the University of Naboo (Go Shaaks!) and got my degree in Journalism, since I’ve always been interested in writing, history, and politics. (Scroll back enough, and you’ll see my cringe pro-Imperial phase from back in the day. Yikes.)

I stayed on Naboo after graduation, and now I write for The Chommell Sector Daily. In my free time I lift weights, write poetry, and fight with people online.

Ask me a question!

—Ben

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Run by @luke-shywalker Est. 2016

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(Their blogs are dead because they're lame, but maybe if we bother them enough they'll come back)

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Family

Mom: My mother, also known as Senator Leia Organa, also known as Space Mom, also known as Don't Mess With Her. Tough as nails. Also has nice nails.

Dad: My father, also known as Han Solo (or scruffy-looking nerfherder). Isn’t as cool as you think he is, but makes up for it with heart.

Rey: My adopted sister, also known as "Kid". Ten years younger than me. Originally from Jakku. Eats faster than anyone I’ve ever seen.

Uncle Luke: My uncle, also known as Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. Is a cinnamon roll.

Ren the Bantha of Indeterminate Gender or Origin: My stuffed bantha friend. Not much can be known about this humble beast, but they are fiercely loyal.

Threepio: My mom's protocol droid. Has foregone enough memory wipes to pass as sentient. Best ignored.

Artoo: Luke’s beeping trash can. Extremely rude.

Chewie: My dad’s best pal. Gives great hugs. Don’t play holochess with him.

Lumpy: Chewie’s son. About my age in Wookiee years.

Darth Vader: My grandfather. It's complicated.

Friends

Fannie: One of Luke's Jedi students, who has since graduated. Twi'lek. My bestie when we were teens. Mom friend.

Amalia: One of Luke's Jedi students, who has since dropped out. Massive Togruta girl. Frenemy.

Treeso: My roommate from college. Gungan. Solid dude.

Sweeper: My archnemesis: the cleaning droid at work that keeps eating my paper notes.

Ugly Raisin Men Who Have Invaded My Mind With the Force

Snoke: Enough said.

Story Events

The Long Night: (2/25/16 - 4/2/16) In which I woke up from a nightmare and couldn’t sleep.

Space Braces: (5/16/16 - 12/7/2017) In which I got braces.

Get Out of My Head: (8/4/16 - 8/28/16) In which Mom left for a diplomatic mission and left me at home with my dad, and I was consumed by fear and darkness.

The Visit: (10/6/16 - 11/5/16) In which Uncle Luke came to visit us.

Sixteen!: (12/3/16 - 12/11/16) In which I turned sixteen.

Life Day 21 ABY: (12/25/16 - 12/26/16) Life Day!

The Impending Future: (9/10/17 - 9/29/17) In which I had an existential crisis about Mom wanting me to become a Jedi, and I discovered Snoke.

Seventeen!: (12/3/17 - 12/11/17) In which I turned seventeen.

Life Day 22 ABY: (12/25/17 - 12/26/17) Life Day!

A Week With Luke: (12/21/17 - 1/7/18) In which my mom made me spend a week at Luke’s Jedi school.

An Awkward Situation: (4/26/18 - 7/15/18) In which I thought my best friend Fannie was going to ask me out. Like, on a date.

About Amalia: (7/16/18 - 8/7/18) In which I accidentally started a chain of rumors about Amalia, Luke’s mysterious and hardest-to-get-along-with student.

The New Roommate: (4/24/24 - current) In which my roommate Treeso moves out and I have to find someone to take over his lease.

Recurring Tags Below

[buttacake80]

My grandmother was born in 1912 or 1913 (birth records vary) outside of Allentown, Georgia, outside of Dublin. All of her grandparents were formerly enslaved [born between 1840-1850]. One of her great-grandmothers was alive for the first 10 years of her life [born about 1820]. This great-grandmother was Gullah-Geechee.

When she was about 7, she survived the Red Summer of 1919.

This was her maternal cousin:

This involved a paternal cousin:

Somewhere in my files, I have a death certificate of another cousin who was lynched. He was leaving church with his family; the cause of death was listed as an "accidental" shooting. But I seem to recall he was shot 13x.

Anyway, she was the second eldest of 13 children, but her eldest sister died young, so she was the eldest sibling. By the time she was in her teens, she was working as a nanny for white families.

She was put on a bus and sent north to Illinois, where she had a great aunt. This great aunt was the child of the Gullah-Geechee and practiced rootwork.

In her late teens, she became pregnant by the man of the house. The wife's family took exception. I think they beat him, but I know they gave my grandmother 24 hours to leave town or she was dead.

[Ya see...the man had been an active member of the KKK and it didn't look good on him to have a biracial baby with a Black teenager. That baby had to go!]

She was a well-known abortionist.

She knew the right herbs to give a woman if the pregnancy was early enough otherwise, she would use a coat hanger, hot water, and a lot of prayer.

She performed an abortion on my grandmother. A few years later, my grandmother marries and starts a family with a military man. He returns from WWII completely broken. We now call it PTSD but he was simply viewed as a coward.

He abandoned her and their 4 kids.

She's always been an attractive woman. And men have always been eager to take care of her, so she carries on with married men, usually white. Has a couple of kids outta wedlock (tried and failed at aborting].

Marries a white man in 1968. Soon after the Loving decision.

This man we call "Mister".

Mister wasn't a nice man. He's tolerated her family. This man is my grandfather, but we could never, ever call him that. Wouldn't really want to.

He developed Alzheimer's when I was in my teens. There was a time when I didn't know which Mister I would encounter.

He sat on a porch swing. In order to enter her house, you had to walk past his swing.

Some days he would storm violently out of the swing. "If it ain't raining niggers and tar-babies" or "here comes the porch monkeys".

Other days, he was disgustingly flirtatious. He would adjust his clothes and smooth back his hair before introducing himself. Making sexual comments about my 14-16 year old body. Sometimes, he would reach for me, but a swat of the hand could knock him over.

Days after his funeral, my aunt goes through an old chest that Mister kept tucked back in his closet. Inside were several postcards from lynchings with his handwriting, noting the date. Buttons and other items that were assumed to be momentos from lynchings he attended.

I didn't understand that duality at the time.

Mister was buried in a known sundown town. It is still a sundown town to this day. In fact, a few Memorial Days ago, my mother was chased from that town after she had visited Mister's grave. Like two pickup trucks full of young white boys chasing a 70+ Black woman through the country roads of Illinois.

In 2021!

Both of my parents are from the Jim Crow Era and thought the period of outward violence was behind them. They sat in the Coloreds Only section or drank from the Coloreds Only water fountain.

My dad was a child in the early 60s when distant relatives were evicted from their farms outside of Memphis. Why? They had registered to vote, so their white landlord evicted them. My dad recalls other Black families who owned their land were also evicted, and he remembers the fire that destroyed those records.

My dad was 15 when MLK, Jr. was invited to Memphis for the Sanitation Workers strike. He remembers the moment he learned King had been murdered in his city. He remembers the riots.

My parents were alive for the signing of the Civil Rights Act.

It saddens me to think that within their lifetime, they saw such slow progression only for it to be unraveled so swiftly.

My grandmother lived to be 102 or 103 (dying 3 months shy of her next birthday). She lived until 2016, so she was alive to vote for our first (and only) Black president, and I distinctly recall her disbelief that white folk would not only vote for a Black man, but that they would let that Black man live.

Providing all of that context, I am not surprised that I have been thinking about her A LOT these past couple of weeks.

First, I think about her great-aunt, the abortionist, and how dangerous abortions were prior to Roe v. Wade. That hanger could puncture organs, leading to massive blood loss. Many women risked death rather than carry a child that was born of rape, incest, or were just plain outside of the woman's plans.

I think about my grandmother, who often said that it had not been a consensual encounter that led to her pregnancy. White folks threatened to kill her because she got pregnant, then she risked death to terminate that pregnancy, so she could find a normal life.

I think about the women, post Roe, who faced similar situations but were granted a safe abortion. Even if Trump implements a nationwide abortion ban, women will still seek abortions. We have only forced them to seek out those coathangers again.

Second, I think about the summer-long race massacre she survived. When I was a senior in college, I had to do a family research project which triggered my genealogy journey.

I interviewed and recorded my grandmother, asking for her earliest memory. She always said her first memory was standing on a train platform, waving goodbye to one of her uncles as he went off to fight in World War I.

Her second involved another family member. According to her, a lynch mob sought to kill him because he had voted. I don't recall if it was the same relative from her first memory, but this relative was also a veteran.

He had returned from Europe after wearing the uniform and thought he should be allowed to vote! A clever man, he dressed up as the janitor, then mopped his way to the voting area. I know he got the ballot. I can't remember if he was able to actually drop it in the box before they realized what he was doing. They chased him from the courthouse. He ran to his mother's home. The family intended to hide him through the night but once they heard the bloodhounds, they knew they weren't letting it go. So he rapidly packed his belongings, kissed his mother goodbye, then fled into the woods. He survived by hiding in either a dead animal or a decaying tree. Whatever it was, it was dead, so the scent covered his. Once he was safe in another state, he wrote his mother to let her know he was safe.

I imagine living in such a time period when white people could be so fickle with human life. A time when a white woman could lie and get Black folk killed. I know there are violent people who commit violent acts, but I am talking about a period when an entire people could and DID commit murder and got away with it.

Although I haven't given up on this country, I have given up on white people ever learning from history or their mistakes.

In fact, they have taken active steps to suppress that history. To ignore those who lived through it until they die, then totally rewrite history. It's what white people do.

A huge portion of them relish violence. So many are seeking an opportunity to terrorize Black folk just like their ancestors did.

They don't want us to vote.

They don't want us to own property.

They don't want us to obtain college educations.

They don't want us to fully realize the American dream; they have taken hostile steps to ensure just that.

You got the MAGA who are so totally uneducated and resentful of the fact that their whiteness doesn't hold as much capital as it once did. You got the greedy white folk who are never satisfied with their wealth, who build up their esteem by stripping others of theirs, then fill their hollow souls with designer brands. You got the religious hypocrites who rejoice in human misery and have openly labeled Jesus Christ as being "too woke". Then, you got the other white folk who are too "uncomfortable" to confront those OTHER white folk despite knowing they are wrong.

I know there are *good* white individuals but, as a people, y'all are fucking lacking as human beings.

[mybitchingandmoaningsafespace]

28 years ago two humans decided to fuck in an old Ford Ranger. Around 9 months later, yours truely escaped the womb. Those two humans decided they hated eachother and I became a pawn in their game. Through all of my life my paternal grandparents have been a constant. I could almost give them credit for raising me. My grandmother passed when I was 12 or 13, and took my world with her. Now, my bond with my grandfather is the strongest bond I have with anyone in my life.

My parents seperated when I was two, a few years later their divorce was finalized. My mother got remarried to a man she met when he was about to go into a diabetic coma. He had 3 daughters from two different women and my mother took over their parenting. These girls sexually abused me, but I was too young to understand at the time, all I knew was I wanted to be accepted by them. Eventually,my nother divorced this man, as he was cheating on her. She had several boyfriends and was known in the town for her promiscuity. Several years ago she married ny current step father, who has been an absolute blessing. I got a new step sister, who I get along greatly with. My father went on to remarry a wicked witch, who made life a living hell. My father took her side, no matter how emotinally and mentally abusive she became. When I was 10, they had a child together who I raised more than they did. I continue to love that child with all my heart. The relationship between myself and my father and stepmother was always tense and my mother was my rock. At 13, I said I'd rather be dead than go back to my fathers house and was put in a psych ward for attempted suicide. During my stay there, was the first time I found myself attracted to a female. At 15, I found my first love. A boy who was just as damaged as I was. We damaged eachother even more with our on again off again dating and toxic behaviors. At 16, I had my first lesbian experience with my best friend. At 17, I was sexually assaulted by a guy my best friend was pining for. I lost my best friend and a part of myself all in one night At 18, I quit splitting my time between my mother and fathers households and ran away to stay with my mother full time. I was finally able to get enough distance to stop running back to the toxic relationship that had carried me through my teenage years. Life was finally looking up. I did a lot of soul searching and working on deciding the person I wanted to become. This meant coming to grips with parts of my past that werent pretty. Eventually, I started to rebuild my relationship with my father. My mother, who was once my best friend, became my enemy. We didnt have a common enemy anymore, so I became the person she hated. When I moved out to move in with my husband, she turned her anger on my stepfather-who does not deserve the treatment he gets, but refuses to leave her.

At 20, I feel in love with a new man. I was ready to give my heart to him. But he was still stuck on his old relationship. In a series of painful events, we split ways, and I met my now husband. We came up with great plans for our life, until life got in the way. At 24, I started to gain a lot of weight and get very sick. At 25, I was diagnosed with Crohns Disease and Cushings Disease. At 26, they removed a tumor from my pituitary gland in the hopes it would fix the Cushings. During all of this, I was struggling to hold down a job. My husband was trying to be helpful and supportive, but due to his own trauma, really didnt (and doesnt) know how. Although, we signed up for eternity, through sickness and health, neither of us planned on this.

Currently, life is a struggle as I am having issues with my health and my job again. Finances are shit, our home is falling apart around us, and everyday is another balancing.

This page is just going to be my bitchfest page, a diary of sorts. Maybe one day, Ill show it to my therapist and save us both some time.

If you have nothing kind or supportive to say, scroll on.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

BNHA

Razzmatazz by xylophones

Izuku has plans for everything.

He plans out what to say to the cashier when ordering coffee, he plans out his homework before even opening his textbook. He has a whole ten-year plan for how he’s going to get into UA’s hero course and get his hero license fully quirkless. He plans for every wild, unlikely scenario he can think of because his anxiety gets so bad if he doesn’t go through every possible outcome, every way his life could landslide into disaster–– but Izuku never planned for this.

For once, he doesn’t have a plan and he doesn’t have time to think of one. All he can see is Yagi-san’s lined, kind face looking resigned as he stares down the villain in his shop. Yagi-san, who is the closest thing to a father figure Izuku has ever had.

Izuku doesn’t think. He just moves.

(Or: Izuku saves the number one hero, gets a hero license way earlier than anyone wanted, realizes that maybe hero society isn’t as great as he thought it was, and everything just kind of falls apart from there.)

DC/Danny Phantom

Speed Dial by apotheosis_avaritia

"Please don't tell me you have the fucking King of Ghosts on speed dial."

close enough to be whole again by hailsatanacab

“If you ever find yourself in danger, go to Bruce Wayne. He will help you.” His mother had loved him, in her own way. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have helped him escape. If she hadn’t, she would have dragged him back to the League of Assassins, to Grandfather. If she hadn’t, he’d be dead. She loved him, but she loved the League more. Jack and Maddie Fenton loved him too, they did, but they loved their work more. They loved their work more. -- After his parents react poorly to his reveal, Danny escapes to the only person he thinks can help him - Bruce Wayne. He doesn't know what to expect when he gets there, but it has to be better than where he is, surely? He certainly doesn't expect to be reunited with his long lost twin brother Damian. It's funny how things work out that way. Danny is 16 years old, not Phantom Planet compliant

DC (Batfamily)

Warm My Heart in the Sun by SilverSkiesAtMidnight

The valet opens the door as he places a ticket under the windshield, a hot breeze lazily snaking its way into the backseat. Then, he climbs out and shuts the door behind him, and the air falls as still as a crumpled quilt. He doesn’t so much as glance at the backseat window as he walks away, leaving Tim alone to wait. And that’s… that’s probably fine! His parents did say that going to a gala with them was something for big kids to do, and he already knows big kids are supposed to be able to be able to be apart from their parents without throwing a fit, so maybe this is why. Maybe waiting like this is part of every grown-up event, and that’s why he needed to be a big boy before he could come with them. So yes. He can be a big boy. He can wait, alone. It’s even kind of exciting! He’s not sure he’s ever been completely alone, without even a nanny nearby. He just… well, he wishes they could have left the AC on while he waits.

- Day 15 - FEED A COLD, STARVE A FEVER delirium | fever dreams | bees

wrong number by adelfie

There’s a few rings, then the phone picks up. “Wayne Residence.” That’s funny, Tim thinks, Mrs. Mac doesn’t sound like herself. -- On a hot July evening while home alone, eight-year-old Tim gets a fever. He means to ask Mrs. Mac for help — but ends up accidentally calling Alfred Pennyworth. Somehow, even in sickness, he wins all the hearts of the Wayne family in one fell swoop. Stranger things

Harrington’s Upside Down Training by PrettyRacing

Welcome to Harrington's Upside Down Training!

Look, Eddie has had a crush on Steve Harrington for, like, four years.  Steve Harrington is the only reason Eddie passed gym last year, because the grade was for participation and Eddie showed up every day that semester to watch Steve Harrington get all sweaty and all that glorious hair flop around.  Eddie is but a man.  Who is he to pass up another chance to watch Steve get all sweaty, perhaps shirtless this time?  And maybe proving to his freshman pupils that Steve Harrington is truly an asshole would be the cherry on top. 

Eddie is just here to ogle Steve Harrington and hopefully expose him as an asshole to his impressionable Hellfire freshmen. Things do not go according to plan.

Holding out for a Hero by ReginaNocis

“He was acting like an entitled jerk,” Will said quietly, looking at the ground. “Like he didn’t do anything wrong. Like there’s no reason you wouldn’t want to talk to him.” “Who was?” Steve pressed gently, frowning. He couldn’t really think of anyone he wouldn’t speak to. Not anyone who might be calling here. Will’s answer was too quiet to be heard. “... Who?” “Your father,” he repeated a little louder, starting to look miserable. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have hung up the phone like that, but… he really hurt you, Steve! He shouldn’t get whatever he wants just because he thinks he’s some big important person. You’re important, not him. I know I should have given you the phone, but I don’t want him to be able to hurt you anymore!” “Oh…” ~ AKA: 5 times the party defended Steve from his parents, and 1 time Steve defended himself.

Star Wars three rules (back straight, head forward) by queen_rowenas

Senator Almen continues on as though nothing is wrong. “Mand’alor, may I introduce you to Senator Organa’s brother, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker.” Leia can feel all of her hard work crumbling, whatever trust she had formed with the Mandalorians shattering before her as the Mand’alor slowly stands to his feet. Great, she thinks numbly, Another galactic war on my hands. (Leia Organa has never been one to back down from a challenge. Although advising the new Mand’alor in his introduction to the Senate and also trying to keep her Jedi brother from causing an intergalactic incident could prove to be a bigger challenge than expected.)

Clone Wars

in those quiet ways by lux_arcana

Day 1: adverse effects / wiping the others tears away

Obi-Wan, after a long moment, finally managed to strangle his vocal cords and force them back under his control. “Cody,” he said again. “Cody, I’m not - I’m fine. It’s a side effect. I really am -“ he took a breath, and sobbed on the exhale, emotions tangling up and threatening to choke him once again. “I know this does seem like I’m lying, but I really am fine.”

Cody’s eyebrows twitched.

“Sir, avoiding your emotions isn’t healthy.”

 Obi-Wan just barely resisted the urge to slam his head against the wall.

[fortisfiliae]

Promised Part 17 - Tom Riddle x reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 |  Masterpost | Masterlist

Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life. (GIF is not mine)

Warnings: None, finally

Word count: 1.2k

Part 17 - Epilogue

The year after the incident at the chapel in Ramsbury went by very uneventfully compared to your last year at Hogwarts and the weeks after, even though so much was changing. Boring was certainly not the right word to describe it. Everyone involved had wished for a bit of peace and was more than happy to live a quiet life for a bit.

Marvolo’s body had been buried appropriately. A small bribe had been enough to make the Mediwizard who had examined him confirm that he had died naturally, of old age. Marvolo had been right after all, they must have really been a bunch of quacks in St. Mungos.

Morfin wasn’t to be found anywhere. Gaunt Manor had been empty, apart from the two house-elves, when your family, Tom and you had gone there. He must have apparated to the manor after Nagini had attacked him, however. A great amount of Galleons and some potions were missing from his chamber when you searched through it. Hokey and Scrook wouldn’t tell anyone what they had seen - they were still loyal to their Masters. They didn’t want to be freed either, even begged not to be given proper clothes. So Tom gave them to Hepbzibah Smith, an old witch who was known to be an avid collector of magical antiquities and was looking for elves to serve her.

Since Morfin wasn’t there to inherit any of Marvolo’s riches, they were passed down to Tom directly. He owned Gaunt manor now, as well as the mountains of Galleons that were locked up in the Gaunt’s vaults at Gringotts. While Gaunt manor had been tempting to pack your bags and move into, both of you didn’t fancy the thought. The house was linked to countless haunting memories for Tom and despite its enormous size, it was way too cold and rigid for your liking and reminded you too much of the Gaunts themselves. 

So Tom sold it to a wealthy family, muggles as far as you were aware, which must have made Marvolo turn over in his grave one last time.

Tom bought a house in your home town shortly after, smaller yet still as boastful as you had expected it to be. It even had a telephone installed, which you didn’t mention to him after you had given him a look when you had seen it, to which he had just shrugged and rolled his eyes. 

You didn’t move in with him immediately, as your parents didn’t allow you to leave your home unmarried. They allowed you to visit him, though, and you did so as often as you could. 

Life had gone on as it always did and you had gotten a job right after school. The Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers had reached out to you after they had seen your grades and gotten a letter from Professor Slughorn. They had asked if you wanted to be trained to become a Potions Master, which was an honour not many witches and wizards were granted with. It hadn’t taken long for you to accept, so you were in close contact with one of their tutors, a witch by the name of Guiliana Toffana.

Tom had taken on a desk job for the Ministry, which paid well even if it wasn’t the most exciting work to do. He had plans though, wanted to work himself to the top one day. And for all you knew, there was no one stopping him from doing so.

Camille had started working as an assistant at Ollivander’s Wand Shop in Diagon Alley. The year had been hard to bypass for her, as she wasn’t able to see Ben as often. They sent each other owls almost daily and the only thing you worried about was that none of you were in Hogwarts anymore to help Ben out with Herbology. Tom had suggested that your little sister Elsie could help him study, as she had started her first year and had been sorted into Gryffindor. 

On 1st July 1946, one year and one day after your almost-wedding, Tom invited you over to his house. You would have lied if you had said you weren’t expecting it. And he met your expectations by getting down on one knee. He asked you to marry him again, 366 days after he had done so the first time. And your answer was different now.

Only a few weeks later - you would have never thought it to be possible to organise a wedding this quickly, well, what a bit of pocket money was able to do - the big day had come.

It couldn’t have been more different from the day in Ramsbury. Your whole family, even the distant aunts and cousins, as well as all of your friends had been invited. Everyone gathered in a small castle north of the Peckforton Hills in Cheshire, where the ceremony and subsequent celebrations were to take place. Even muggles would have described the place as magical. Its old walls and lush, green lawn inside the courtyard reminded you of Hogwarts a lot. 

You wore an elegant white dress, not Mother’s, but one that you had picked out yourself. One last look into the mirror before the ceremony would begin and, you even had to admit to yourself, you had never looked better. 

Father had to help to calm you down before you entered the chapel with him. Walking down the aisle with the music playing and all eyes fixated on you was scarier than fighting the Gaunts had been. But Father was there by your side, leading you up to the altar safely.

And the moment you spotted Tom waiting for you there, all nerves were soothed. He bit his lip while you approached him slowly, his eyes wandering up and down your figure. A smile, one that even reached up to his eyes, formed on his face and didn’t seem to leave after he had taken in the sight. 

Ben, his best man, stood behind him, and only watched Camille, your maid of honour, from the side as tears of joy ran down her face.

The officiant’s speech got drowned out by your thoughts, as you lost yourself in Tom’s eyes, standing face to face with him in front of all of the guests. The way he looked back at you, deeply but still collected, led your mind to wander. 

Love surely wasn’t like it was described inside a book, no, but when the people involved were honest and trusting, it could turn out to be even better than words were able to ever describe it. You both had changed so much since you had gotten close. And you were going to change with every day that you would spend together. There was much work to be done still, many compromises to be made and a lot of healing yet to start. But you were sure that with an open heart and a tiny bit of luck, you were going to make it. And you couldn’t wait. 

Time had passed by so quickly until now and it would pass by equally as fast from now on. Every day was just another grain of sand falling down the hourglass that was life. But now that every grain had Tom in it, they seemed to drop differently. Happier, more meaningful and full of expectation for what’s to come. Every grain was to be cherished and the two of you promised that to each other when you both said the words. “I do.”

The end.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 |  Masterpost | Masterlist

Well, we’re done :’) I’m a bit sappy, it’s hard for me to let this story go. I actually can’t believe I pushed through and really finished it. 43k words, a short novel. Wow. And I wouldn’t have been able to do it, if all of you hadn’t liked, shared and commented on this story. I really need the feedback and you all were so kind and gave it to me. So, credits to you, we made it. And as always, thank you for reading!

Permanent tags: @geeksareunique​ @ren-ela​ @marauderskeeper​ @way-obsessed5​ @oreofrappiewithblueberry​ @draqcnheartstrinq​ @dogfatherpads​ @obscurilicious​ @maralisa124​ @theseuscmander​ @lumos-barnes​ @theboywhocriedlupin​ @igotmadskills​ @jamcspotters​ @vulpecula-minor​ @snarledblack​ @swellwriting​ @carolinesbookworld​ @fandomtravels​ @heartbeats-wildly​ @clockworkherondale​ @aikeia​ @i-padfootblack-things​ @emmamass24​ @sleep-i-ness​ @miss-theya​ @gruffle1​ @pcseidcnsvoid @buckysblueeyes-18 @angelinathebook​ @nao-cchi​ @imboredandneedalife​

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[ditttiiiwrecks]

OT7 Fic Rec Master Post:

 last updated (16/05/2021) 

If my master-list is anything to go by I am clearly obsessed with ot7, so here are some of my favs. 

Some of these stories are linked from Ao3. If any of those fics have been cross posted to Tumblr, please let me know. 

Current Fic Count: 25

Give all these amazing authors some love ♡ & To all the authors, Thank you so much for writing. I am so beyond grateful for all the work and time that you put in to writing these stunning pieces of literary art. 

This list is by no means complete, so if you have any recommendations, send em my way! ♡ Happy Reading!

~Love, @ditttiii  ♡

1) Void by @btssavedmylifeblr

Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all. 

2) Make You Know Love by @btsismybiass 

Summary: Growing up, Jungkook had always shared everything with his brothers; toys, food, clothing, friends, and even girls. The seven were inseparable — secrets were not allowed. Halfway through senior year, Jungkook was sent to a school halfway across the world, though he wouldn’t tell anyone (that didn’t already know) why. Years later, he has an adjoining apartment with his best friend (who is hopelessly in love with him) and 6 brothers he has yet to tell her about. One night, she comes barging into his home unannounced only to be met with a group of sexy foreign strangers.

3) Armed to the Fangs by @jingabitch

Summary: You grew up in the Hunter’s Guild, understanding that it is your sacred duty as a hunter to protect humanity from the vampires that lurk in the dark, draining the life from anyone unlucky enough to be caught. While making the rounds one night, you encounter Taehyung, a fabled born vampire - not that you know that when he tries to entice you into a dark alley. Next thing you know, you’re kidnapped and taken to their home, where you realise that all of them somehow crave your blood and seem to know more about your past than you do. Finding out about where you came from might be the key to setting humanity free.

4) Sanctuary by @softykooky

Summary: some people are lucky enough to be born into a family that loves them. others meet their family in a coffee shop while on the run from the korean ambassador, while they’re holding a man at gunpoint and beating him to a pulp for treason against their syndicate.

5) Eunoia by @wishesunderthestars

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

6) Tangled Hearts by @writersrealmbts

Summary: You have seven hybrids and life with them can be both good and stressful. Some days are better than others, but in the end, you know that they’re always there for you, in more ways than one.

7)  Diamond Tears and Little Wings by @writersrealmbts 

Summary: You’re a fairy, taken in by BTS. You need lots of love and care, otherwise your light will fade and you turn to stone. Between the seven of them, you should never feel unloved. Right?

8) Rose & Thorns by @minniepetals 

Summary: a lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other. and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.

9) The Butter Series by @minniepetals

Summary: their names alone had every men and women turning their heads and falling at their feet. successful, prestigious, handsome, rich and untouchable to anyone that looked their way. and you? you were just an employee who worked for them. who would have known you meant so much more to them than you could ever imagine?

10) Stray Cat Strut by Bang to the Tan (TyphloticHaruspex)

Summary: When your grandmother passes away, she leaves her countryside house in your name. The longer you stay, the harder and harder it becomes to explain away the odd happenings. What kind of secrets does this sleepy town hold? And why do the local animals act so strangely around you?…

11) BACK HOME by @alexlwrites

Summary: : The one where, after living abroad for years, you move back to Korea and your old high school friend Namjoon offers you his place to stay while you get settled, casually forgetting to mention that: a) he still had a massive crush on you. b) he lived with six other guys.

12)  A Hundred Percent Human by Wrienne

Summary: In which you are forced to take care of seven hybrids in a twist of fate. After your estranged mother passes away, you're left with an unwanted will and the heavy burden of responsibility. Although you're desperate not to stray from the familiar path you thought was laid out in front of you with a fully human boyfriend who loves you more than anything, your life is thrown upside down once more after another unfortunate incident (that may or may not have to do with said boyfriend) occurs. Drunk and down on life, you finally decide to deal with the house and the unsavory business your mother left behind. However, to your shock, you find that seven very different hybrids are included with both the house - and the business. Seven hybrids you never even met before - even less agreed to take care of. Set in the not too distant future where infertility has become mankind's greatest issue. Will contain sexual content.

13)  I’ll Still Stay by @sugamoonv

Summary: Y/N, living in a society where hybrids are seen as commonly as pets and working a well-paying job, finally decides to adopt a hybrid for herself. But what happens when instead of one new companion, she leaves with seven? And what happens when nature decides that these companions are meant to be more than that?

14)  The Gateway to Your Heart by @justimajin

Summary:  ❝You gave me the best of me, so you give you the best of you.❞

15)  Like I Do by interlude__dream

Summary:  It's summer in Seoul. You didn't expect much to happen during your nights working at a coffee shop, but somehow, giving one kid a sandwich wrapped up your fate with seven hungry boys more tightly than you could have ever imagined.

16)  w e a r e a l l m a d h e r e by cath_mg

Summary: In which you're a model student who just managed to catch not just one, not two, but all seven 'transfer students' who just happened to visit your university.At the end of the road, will you stay or will you run? Or...

17)  Follow Me Down by ARMY_BRAT

Summary:  It was supposed to be a simple vacation to a foreign land. You certainly didn’t expect to wake up drugged and caged like an animal in the basement of seven beautiful men.

18)  Sharing is Caring by always_bias_wrecked

Summary:  You decide to let the rest of Bangtan watch you and your boyfriend Jimin have sex one time. Now suddenly everyone seems to want a piece of you, and Jimin doesn't seem to mind sharing.

19)  Ruin Me, I Dare You. by porcelainbones

Summary: Where a regular wannabe author discovers the members of the biggest band in the world are her soulmates. All Seven. (not a reader insert)

20) Abundance by @angelicyoongie

Summary: You never expected that you would end up adopting a hybrid, and if someone had told you that you would end up with seven? Well, you would have thought they were crazy. But here you are, with three different packs of hybrids that don’t get along – but all want to stay with you. Yeah, it turns out crazy is an understatement.

21) You Never Walk Alone by @agustdakasuga

Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

22)  Accidental Friends by erakun

Summary:  Meet Bangtan, international superstars, the pride of South Korea, the love and hope in the dark of many lives, the role model and celebrity crush of so many people, and a group of people you often stumble across in your day to day life. You become acquaintances, slowly become friends, and- that's it. You are in a platonic friendship with Bangtan. Let me say it again. *clears throat* PLATONIC.

23)  Lifeline by @forgottenpasta

Summary: What happens when a witch curses seven vampires to share one fated mate between them?

24) Restitution  by @cloudteawrites 

Summary: When an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is.

25) The Lore of the Forest by spield

Summary: Nothing ancient and magical is ever really lost. When the descendants and heirs of the myths and legends come together to live a normal life, something - someone - is thrown into their plans. Bringing with them aid, magic and so much more.

[sly-merlin]

Wonderwall- the onerous love | l.jeno || Teaser

Pairing : prince!jeno x princess!reader. Lee jaein - Lee jeno's twin!

Genre : fluff, angst , modern royalty! Arrange marriage au, Strangers to ??? Smut? Would think abt it bt if it's there, I'd make sure it's nt connected to any scene and easily skippable.

Word count : ~ 5k? Certainty of surpassing the projected word count. YES THE TEASER IS LONG.

Prompt :: I never meant to hurt you.

A/n : this is a modern royalty piece written as a part of candy heart Collab by dear @127-mile .

Taglist : @/ncteaxhoe @/hunjins. Send ask/dm/comment if u wish!

Release date : lover's day. Edit : on 15/16 bcs i got sick

Summary : y/n was supposed to be married to Lee jaein, the oldest prince and the heir to the throne. Her heart didn't yearn for him but she knew that one day, it would definitely. Thoughts and suppressed unknown feelings were all she had while preparing to be a queen of the small kingdom. The day ending her wait never comes, the news of death does.

Bind by the customs and duties, how she would find peace when she's married off to the twin brother of the man who's portrait she had cherished for two years.

Was Lee jeno ready to replace his brother?

Was she ready to give her piece of heart to someone who was never meant to have it?

( italics are memories)

Apparently, the progression into the twenty-first century is not good enough of an excuse for absolving the old practices.

Royals are born in traditions, they live with them and die too. Royals bend for none. So do their customs.

This, the rationale you were raised with, had never been the object of contention in your family. Royalty was a crown in itself and you had lived wearing it and you’d die carrying it. There was no escape and not that you sought any.

The only phenomenon you had been taught to bow to was nature and that was the very reason why you were standing in front of your exotically dark finished, extraordinarily carved ivory wood dressing mirror, fitted in a beautiful masterpiece crafted from the finest silk and satin. To make your wedding dress royal worthy, precious gemstones that were hardly visible on white and a white gold diamond embellished the hand stitched zari embroidered piece. The cathedral train and boat neck were doing nothing but complimenting the details.

It looked ethereal.

You looked like the prettiest bride.

But the way the emerald drop necklace sat on your bare neck, it felt like a noose. All that glitters is not gold, as taught by your grandfather, has always acted as the driving force for the deferential life you lived but in the current moment, the proverb has hit you right in the gut, the reason being the strict interpretation of the words in your situation. You were adorned in glitters and gold. Always had been. Nothing of the heaviness of the dress or jewellery was new yet it was weighing tons, as if you were robbed of the metallic senses you grew up with. The corset, strangling your rib cage, wasn't letting you breathe.

"Sit y/n."

Following your mother's command, you sat down on the cushioned vanity chair and the spare cloth was sidelined by the maids. Looking through the mirror, you watched her fingers caressing the queen's emerald crown. Gently picking it up from the maroon velvet case, her hands reached atop your head. A maid tucked some strands of your hair behind your ear for comfortable access.

The crown, once placed on your hair, was shifted with minimum force for required adjustments.

The new addition weighs you down even more as your shoulders slump in indescribable defeat.

You always knew the day would come.

Then why this unknown feeling was so irrepressible.

Is this what the wedding jitters were called?

Or was it something else?

Were you even allowed to feel anything?

What would your mother say if she identified the cause of your frequent disconnection with reality.

Your own mirror seemed to be mocking you.

or was it the portrait that stared you down?

Three years ago

"Why does this portrait have to be here? Do you want me to replicate it for the wedding night gift?"

Eighteen year old you has shouted her lungs out at her mother upon seeing a random canvas in your room. Well, it was not random. It was jaein's. Prince jaein's! The man you were destined to marry. You had no problem with the man himself, given that you were aware of your marriage arrangements. But why you had to be reminded of something everyday that you were going to face anyway. It was not like the absence of the portrait would have ended the fixed fate. You never intended to do so. After all, you loved your status and the respect it gave you. Having an affair or marrying a civilian had never ever crossed your mind. The mere thought of leaving everything behind was simply scary and being the oldest daughter of the king, you were obliged not to taint the honour of your father's crown.

You were not an ordinary citizen so your life wasn't just yours and you were never concerned about that either. But why should you be seeing the face of a man daily when you'd not be able to communicate with him?

"Have some authority in your voice while speaking. The maids are still here to witness your imprudent behaviour. And you know it's a tradition to have the portrait of the prince to be placed in the bride's chambers. Don't forget you chose him yourself. Let him occupy some space in your room and maybe in your heart too."

You had obliged. Throughout your home graduation, you had spent every day and night with the smiley portrait of the handsome prince. Occasionally, you'd find yourself immersed in his dark brown eyes, his boyish features pulling you in to touch the dried paint with a faint hope that maybe he'd come alive. You used to laugh at yourself for such petty thoughts. Sometimes you'd think if your portrait had managed to lure him just as his did to you.

Were you perhaps falling for a pair of eyes, devoid of any emotion.

No, you weren't.

He was just a portrait but with a future.

With you.

As you got busy with educating yourself with the responsibilities you'd be faced with as the wife of the oldest son, you found yourself immersing in the world you were yet to become a part of.

One year ago.

"Prince jaein expired last night in a helicopter clash. The public is requested to participate in a week-long mourning."

For that day, you forgot how to even breathe. The news that had flashed in every device of your chambers had forced you to lock yourself in your room for that night. Blankly staring at the man sized painted photo, you made no attempt at hiding the grief you felt for the man you had never met. Nothing but a mutual expectation of a union had stringed you both into each other's heart. No affections. No romance. No longing.

But something was there.

The Ending of one has ripped the stitches from both sides.

At the end of the next day, the portrait was removed and the space was left empty again.

After a month, a new painting had entered your peaceful abode. Amusingly, replacements were not hard to find! Even of humans.

Head tilted, you found yourself staring into the same pair of eyes. The similarity with the previous one was almost dangerous. They were the same yet distinct.

Under the foot of the canvas were the signatures, another reminder of the new future you were getting thrown into.

Lee jeno,

The prince.

"You look beautiful y/n. Be mindful of your steps while walking. You cannot afford to lower the prestige of the family." She ordered in a stoic manner.

Biting your lip, you couldn't stop yourself from asking the one question.

"Mom. Would I be able to do it?" The nervousness was melting through your words.

"Queen, y/n. Not mom. You are going to be one as well. Learn to not disrespect the title ever and certainly not in front of civilians."

You mentally scoffed at her professionalism that seemed to eclipse her responsibility as your mother.

Raising yourself from the chair, you turned to face your mother, a low smile gracing your lips.

"Shall we go y/n. King is waiting for you." She addressed you. Gulping down the embarrassment, you, towering over her with the length of your heels, replied courteously,

"Princess, your highness. And a queen to be. Respect for my title is the last thing I ask of you."

Without gauging her reaction, you picked your dress up with your fingers and trudged outside with grace.

To the man who was waiting for you.

To the man who was never meant to wait for you.

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[shihalyfie]

An analysis of Iori and his character arc

Iori has a particularly interesting position in 02′s narrative (and, even more widely so, in perhaps all of both Adventure and 02) in that his base profile is rather unusual-looking even from the get-go -- the youngest child in both groups, yet with a (seemingly) mature demeanor that surpasses even his seniors. On top of that, Iori ends up having a very deep relation to 02′s themes and plot itself in a way that isn’t initially apparent, but actually makes him a very vital centerpiece of 02′s story.

Before we get into Iori’s role in 02′s actual plot, it needs to be established that a very, very large amount of Iori’s character is heavily shaped by his family background and upbringing. Prior to the start of the series, the Hida family had a large void in it, with Iori’s father Hiroki having been killed in the line of duty. Being a mere five-year-old child who had lost his father barely into actually being sentient and basically had to live the following three years going off hearsay on what he was actually like, Iori ends up raised by his mother Fumiko and his paternal grandfather Chikara.

While not in exactly the same way as the Takenouchi family (which is literally working in cultural preservation and study), the Hida family is very traditionalist Japanese -- Fumiko makes traditional Japanese food and snacks like kanpyoumaki and ohagi, and a lot of attention is given to the butsudan altar in their house where they honor the late Hiroki (also note the tatami flooring). That, combined with Chikara’s naturally strict personality, led to Iori being raised with “very strict manners”, and by a set of very firm guidelines on honor, respect, and the like.

Having been raised into this kind of formality, Iori speaks almost exclusively in polite-form Japanese. This happens to initially make him come off a bit like Koushirou -- likely a deliberate parallel, given the Knowledge connection between the two (being the kind of person who admits that you don’t know everything and wants to know more requires a bit of humility, after all). That said, Iori’s way of doing this has some key differences from Koushirou:

Unlike Koushirou, who was largely polite out of an attempt to keep distance from everyone and thus had a streak of being somewhat non-confrontational, Iori is perfectly willing to say harsh or critical things -- in other words, his way of speaking is formal, but it’s not necessarily polite, and in fact Iori is probably the single most passive-aggressive person in this cast. He has absolutely no qualms about dunking on whatever he feels truly deserves the dunking, and he’ll certainly do it with a lot of grace, but he is very capable of being extremely cold when he wants to be.

Koushirou stuck to formality out of detachment and intimidation, to the point that, as per Adventure episodes 38 and 54, he was compulsively unable to bring himself to speak casually unless he forced himself. Iori, on the other hand, often “slips” -- on top of willingly defaulting to casual form whenever he’s talking to himself or (occasionally) to the Digimon (who are outside Japanese levels of propriety), he also has a tendency to start using casual form whenever he gets particularly emotionally compromised. (While it doesn’t quite come off in the translation, the above screenshots from 02 episode 10 are an example of this, with Iori losing his temper at the Kaiser and slipping into casual form -- and a bit of fun foreshadowing, guess who’s the one to successfully calm him down? Takeru. Remember this for later.) In other words, Iori’s formality is not compulsive, but a conscious thing he tries to maintain as he holds himself to high standards, and is unable to completely uphold during times his emotions get the better of him.

Ultimately, Iori may come off as “mature and composed”, but he’s still an impressionable nine-year-old child, who’s effectively parroting the rules his grandfather instilled in him because he sees it as The One and Only Guide to Living Life. In trying to figure out the right thing to do in any situation, Iori ends up constantly trying to fall back on “this is the right way to do things!” and taking it rather badly whenever things start falling outside of the expected pattern. Despite being the one responsible for Iori’s tightly principled life to begin with, even Chikara himself comments that Iori’s not being flexible enough in his thinking in 02 episode 5 -- because it’s not like he’s expecting Iori to be like this, but Iori is simply having a hard time applying these principles practically when he’s working with the limited range of being a nine-year-old child.

And as much as it may be tempting to see Iori as stoic, watching his expressions and way of emoting throughout the series, he does very much have the full range of emotions and curiosity and even cheer of a nine-year-old child -- it’s that he’s just constantly holding himself back for the sake of being principled and well-mannered. This has the unfortunate side effect that Iori is, as the Animation Chronicle calls it, “clumsy at expressing himself as a child”. Because he’s constantly restraining himself like this, he has a hard time expressing himself or letting himself enjoy things in the way a normal child would.

It also goes a long way in explaining why Iori is never seen hanging out with any other peers his age, and is exclusively depicted in the company of either the rest of the 02 group, or his own family. While part of it is simply because (as per Japanese school procedure) he’s too young to be formally enrolled in any clubs, 02 episode 3 goes out of its way to show Iori being left alone in the classroom with only a teacher stuck supervising him, as he tries to force himself to finish his lunch due to his stubborn adherence to principle (even though he seems to hate tomatoes). In other words, it’s heavily implied that Iori’s own behavior ended up isolating him from his peers. Considering that the 02 group is generally made up of kids who are socially displaced in some way, it naturally follows that, despite being significantly older than him, they end up welcoming him into their friend circle and treating him as an equal.

When the series starts, Miyako and Iori seem to have gotten a certain degree of closeness (with Iori as one of the only people Miyako drops honorifics on). It stands to reason that Miyako, being open-minded towards people and rather aggressively friendly, would be willing to befriend her neighbor despite the three-year age gap between them, and so they already seem to have developed a rapport where Miyako’s willing to come over to his place to help work on the Hida family electronics in exchange for food.

So, you know, this and that happens, Iori becomes a Chosen Child, and this is the start of where Iori’s “principles” start coming into conflict with each other. The nature of the Digital World crisis is a no-brainer -- the Kaiser is doing terrible things, and Iori’s just been given the tools to do something about it, and so for him, upholding his principles to do the right thing means proactively doing something about it. But getting involved in this territory war will mean “fighting and hurting other people” (bad) and “hiding things from his family and sacrificing obligations to them” (also bad). Chikara advises him in 02 episode 5 that he still needs to be the one to decide what he wants and needs to do at any given moment, but it’s clear that this is still a new concept for Iori to swallow.

It’s also important that 02 episode 5 is also the episode that introduces Jou, who very much understood the dissonance between “adhering to principles in spite of how practical that may not actually be”, which means the two of them end up bonding over...ditching real-life obligations to come to the Digital World. This bonding happens despite the fact that they have the largest age gap out of any two given kids out of the Adventure and 02 group (Jou is 15, and Iori 9) -- and yet, they’re able to bond over being like-minded like this. And while they come from different contexts, there’s also a parallel drawn between the two on “the importance of personal choice” -- because back in Adventure, Jou’s story involved channeling his desire to help others in a way different from his usual expected path as a doctor or as a Chosen Child, and, likewise, it will be up to Iori to find his own way towards what he thinks is right.

Iori’s “adherence to principles” also needs to be distinguished from Jou’s in that Jou was someone more likely to be stuck to “practical” rules (one might call him Lawful) such as waiting for adults to help them with things, or what to put on eggs. Iori, on the other hand, has self-enforced rules that are far more ideological -- he doesn’t actually care that much about institutionally-enforced rules (note how he has absolutely no issue with sneaking into school with his friends in 02 episode 6) as much as he enforces a moral code on himself about “the right thing to do”. For instance, that he has to show his respect to Jou by formally finishing his introduction, even if it’s clear they know each other by now already.

But, again, it bears repeating: Iori is a nine-year-old child. The rest of the kids respect him enough to not treat him like a younger child -- other than a brief moment of emotional compromise that Daisuke quickly apologized for, the group is never really depicted as paying particular mind or care to the fact that Iori is so much younger than them, and for the most part treat him like an equal. But Iori himself is conscious of this -- after all, it’s why he’s constantly speaking politely to everyone all of the time, but 02 episode 16 also implies he’s very self-conscious about this. The plot of the episode kicks off when Iori momentarily gets caught up in his excitement about potentially getting a new Digimental, and, once things start going south, he starts blaming himself for causing all of this and lashing out at the others for (at least, in his mind) singling him out to be the one to escape on the grounds of being the youngest. After all is said and done with the incident, Submarimon lets Iori have a moment of something Iori really does need: a bit of a chance to actually get to enjoy himself as a young child instead of restraining himself so much.

Speaking of 02 episode 16, this is also where we first get to see how the pressure of maintaining Iori’s moral code starts to emotionally tear at him. It’s the first time we see Iori lose his composure this much. To everyone else here (and, perhaps, the audience, to some degree), Iori’s making a mountain out of a molehill -- he’s calling himself an unworthy person for telling a lie that even Jou himself clearly didn’t mind. But remember, Iori is someone who’s still learning a lot about how the world works at such a young age and is inclined by default to fall back on whatever his grandfather’s told him (to a point that even said grandfather considers to be overdoing it). Right now, Iori has basically built his entire view of morality based on this kind of thing, so putting a dent on it is like encouraging a slippery slope of potentially falling into moral depravity.

The reason why I say Iori’s character arc has a lot to do with Adventure and 02’s storytelling itself is that it’s a surprisingly pragmatic series when it comes down to it -- “it’s okay to lie, sometimes” is not exactly the kind of moral you’d expect out of your average kids’ show, but, perhaps a bit unusually, this series prefers to skip all of the preachiness and focus on pragmatics. (After all, back in Adventure, a lot of the final arc revolved around the question of “is fighting the right thing to do when there might be casualties?”, with the probably-kind-of-uncomfortable-but-frankly-very-practical answer of “it certainly beats having more casualties that would happen if you sat around and did nothing.”) Iori’s character arc is, effectively, this in a nutshell -- what’s the “right” thing to do when following principles alone doesn’t seem to be doing it? In the end, both Adventure and 02 are big on this -- preachy words and moralistic principles mean nothing in the face of striving to practically minimize damage and help others.

And so, Jou -- who himself grappled quite a bit with the dissonance between principles and pragmatism back in Adventure -- is the one to successfully reframe it in a way that Iori understands: most of all, Iori doesn’t want to see people get hurt, and whether “lying” or “not lying” is the right thing to do is not as relevant as “whether people are getting hurt”. Iori not lying would have caused a great deal more of hurt than lying, and it’s through understanding this kind of principle that Iori accepts that he still has a long way to go in terms of exercising his duty to others. The secondary Digimental arcs have a heavy theme of “acknowledging your deficiencies and resolving to improve”, and in the case of Iori and the Digimental of (this thing has been translated half a dozen ways, but, effectively, honoring your obligations to others), it involves his first major moment of coming to terms with the idea that the principles on paper he’s been stubbornly following aren’t going to do it by themselves.

Once the Kaiser arc concludes and the group is posed with the question on how to handle Ichijouji Ken, Iori’s reaction to him is the most infamously extreme: Ken is a Bad Person who is completely beyond forgiveness, and Iori wants nothing to do with him. It probably needs to be made clear that Iori’s stance on not wanting to forgive Ken is not inherently unreasonable. Ken really did some awful, horrible things in the first half of the series, and it is completely within Iori’s rights to decide that he doesn’t want to forgive or like Ken thereafter.

The part where Iori’s behavior starts posing issues is not the part about whether he likes Ken or not, but rather that Iori gets so hung up on that lack of forgiveness that he becomes very bad at observing the practical reality in front of him. Or, in other words, Iori gets so fixated on the principle of what happened in the past that he’s unable to make good judgment calls on what should happen going forward. It is abundantly clear to everyone by (at the latest) 02 episode 26 that Ken is not going to easily lapse back into his old ways and would like to make an effort to repair the damage he caused; regardless of whether they like him or not, it’s in their best interest to cooperate with him and let him help out (and even keep an eye on him to make sure bad things don’t happen again!), especially when the factor of Jogress comes into play and turns out to be a very valuable asset in the fight ahead. But Iori has a a rather squeamish, petty response when he tries to claim that they shouldn’t need Jogress (in the midst of everyone else being excited about the possibilities it poses, even without Ken in the equation) in 02 episode 28, and even when he does go along with everyone working with Ken in 02 episodes 28-29 during the Giga House Incident, he approaches it like he and Ken are bartering favors and that he’ll have to “repay” Ken before he can properly return to pigeonholing Ken as an Unequivocally Bad Person.

And so the issue here is: Iori being so determined to fixate on trying to stuff Ken into a neat box of a Bad Person isn’t good for himself, either, because it basically means he’s going out of his way to run pointless mental loops and maintain the feeling of stewing in a grudge against him, even when it’s helping absolutely nobody. Note the metaphor drawn when Iori practices kendo with Chikara in 02 episode 24 -- he keeps doing the same motion over and over again despite the fact it’s clearly not going anywhere, and Chikara has to warn him that doing nothing but aim for the head isn’t how you’re supposed to do it. Right now, Iori is having a hard time parsing things in ways besides shoving things in neat boxes of black-and-white morality, and this lack of flexibility is severely restricting his ability to be productive.

What starts to really cause Iori to make a major shift in his thinking process is none other than his connection with Takeru, a subplot that had already started kicking off all the way back in 02 episode 19, when Iori witnesses Takeru suddenly taking a violent shift in mood against the Kaiser to the point it scares him. Iori, of course, considers Takeru to be a “good" and “kind person”, but someone like that should (in his mind) logically not be making sudden, violent outbursts like that -- and especially once he starts advocating for BlackWarGreymon to potentially be killed if it comes down to it, going very against Iori’s fundamental principle that killing anything that’s sentient is unforgivably immoral.

This “contradiction” is what leads Iori to realize that he needs to do much more if he wants to understand Takeru properly, and it’s also the start of how Iori grows into the trait of his first Digimental, “Knowledge” -- or, more specifically (as defined by Koushirou in Adventure episode 24 and 02 episode 2), “curiosity and a drive to know more”. In the case of Iori, this manifests in “I want to know more about other people.” It’s Iori effectively understanding that his very limited view of the world and how people work isn’t sufficient in itself, and this concept becomes the crux of his character arc for the rest of the series.

After tussling around and getting increasingly confused about Takeru’s seemingly paradoxical behavior, Iori finally goes directly to Yamato to consult him about it in 02 episode 35, and Yamato explains the backstory behind Takeru’s trauma from losing Angemon back in Adventure episode 13, as well as a reminder that as much as it may have been his own fault, Ken technically went through some pretty similar trauma, and everything that’s happened since his fall from being the Kaiser hasn’t exactly been sunshine and roses for him either. Iori reflects on this as he goes home, with the important statement attached: he understands Takeru’s feelings. He’s now able to understand why Takeru acts the way he does, not on the grounds of principles of what’s right or wrong, but based on the fact that Takeru’s simply a very messy human being who’s not handling his own tendency to suppress his emotions well.

Because Takeru is such a convoluted person, and because Iori’s fundamental issue with approaching things involves unraveling some very deep-seated tendencies in his mentality, the way the two finally connect in order to properly Jogress requires something a lot more convoluted than just happening to clash in a single magical moment like Daisuke and Ken or Miyako and Hikari did. Iori starts off the episode catching himself when he’s about to fall back into “principles over practicality” again -- he starts railing on the others for (in his mind) taking the impending BlackWarGreymon fight too lightly, before Armadimon reminds him that he’s hungry, and Iori realizes -- again -- that he cannot effectively enforce “the right or wrong thing to do” without taking other people’s feelings properly into account. Realizing that this is is a barrier between him and the others, especially Takeru, Iori tries to adjust his thinking pattern and even becomes the one to advocate that everyone get some proper food and rest instead of charging into the fight unprepared.

The meal results in Iori getting yet another rare moment of letting himself truly enjoy something without restraint, and is also followed by Takeru speaking openly to him about their potential Jogress -- openly, honestly, not covering it up, not even with the same light playfulness he would usually put on (including what he had with the very same topic at the beginning of this episode). It is an acknowledgment from Takeru’s own part that he’s been watching what Iori’s doing and also wants to connect, and an open and serious statement from someone who had constantly tried to cover up everything with a smile up until that point, and, with the two reaching an understanding, they finally achieve their Jogress at the end of the episode.

This connection with Takeru, and the understanding that came from it, is what allows Iori to start applying a bit more flexibility towards approaching other situations. 02 episode 38 has him finally accepting Ken’s invitation to his Christmas party, after so many episodes of despising so thoroughly -- because now that he’s taking Ken’s position and feelings into account, he’s able to properly recognize him as someone doing his best to make amends going forward and be friends. Later, in 02 episode 44, despite having originally been the one more staunchly against it on principle, Iori handles the shock of having to kill an enemy with somewhat more grace than Miyako does, because not only had he already started considering the difficulty of fighting an enemy that cannot be reasoned with and wants nothing but wanton destruction (back during the end of 02 episode 29), Takeru is there to remind him that their priority must, first and foremost, be “saving lives” -- like, for instance, the girl in a wheelchair in front of him.

And so, the final episodes of 02 put everything Iori’s learned to the ultimate test, when he learns that the major perpetrator behind it all is none other than a friend of his departed father.

Up until this point, much of Iori’s mentality had been shaped by the rather saintlike image everyone had put up of Hiroki -- it’s almost certain that he must have had his own flaws as a person, but the resistance to speaking ill of the dead, and the generally positive influence he’d had on his friends and family and his untimely death by “protecting someone”, painted him as effectively a perfect, impossible ideal for Iori to strive to. Much of Iori’s justifications for his own behavior had consistently been reliant on “my father said this” or “would my father would have done this?”, such as his reason for forcing down his lunch in 02 episode 3, or using him as a mental model in 02 episode 44. For Iori’s former mentality of “good person” and “bad person”, this is the ultimate contradiction that threatens to rip apart everything Iori had built his own values system on -- that someone so incredible and saintlike and virtuous would be friends with someone so unambiguously doing horrible things like Oikawa. Iori, taking this as an awful emotional blow, parses this with a desperate desire to understand the motive behind why someone would do this, because it’s not enough for him to continue until he does.

And in 02 episode 49, we see Iori effectively forced to confront the fact that he can’t keep relying on the model of his father anymore as the sole basis for his way of life when, in the end, his father will never return. Iori doesn’t even know him that well; he can’t conjure up an image of him talking, or anything beyond just a flat, serene smile. And when the image of his father finally disappears, Iori almost immediately accepts it, as if he’d known the whole time.

It’s also significant that Iori declares that what he’ll do next is introduce Armadimon to his mother -- because, in the end, Iori is at least now capable of “moving forward”. He can’t get his father back, and the best thing he can do is make use of his existing support group and keep pushing forward with the people he does have in his life -- quite the opposite of Oikawa, who responded to the loss of that exact same person by clutching onto the remnants of the past they shared, and never becoming able to move on.

Hence, 02′s finale ends on none other than Iori, and when you think about it, this is actually a pretty unusual position to be in for someone who’s not the lead protagonist (Daisuke) nor the most prominent focus of the story (Ken)! But it’s a testament to just how important Iori is to this narrative on a thematic level -- all of the struggles about the morality of fighting and the disparity between principles and practicality (which dated all the way back to Adventure), and 02′s prominent theme of coping with loss and regrets and figuring out how to best move on, are all tightly entwined with the character arc of this nine-year-old child. (If you want to take the parallel between the Adventure narrative and Iori even further, Iori and Armadimon sharing the same voice actress is possibly one of the most prominent ways of indicating how a Digimon partner is fundamentally meant to express one’s inner self.)

And especially since Iori is the person who should have been the most vehement about having any kind of sympathy or compassion towards Oikawa -- just remember how determined he was to be cold towards Ken only half a series ago! -- and it leaves a strong impression of the huge, huge journey Iori had gone on through this series. Iori’s arc closes on him understanding the nature of what Oikawa had wanted this whole time, and understanding exactly what it meant for him to make that sacrifice right after finally meeting his partner, and ends the story the most emotionally affected by it -- because, after all, that’s the sort of truly kind person Iori is.

Iori after 02

By the time of Spring 2003, when Iori’s had some time to reflect on it, we learn from Iori that he still does not forgive Oikawa. That in itself is fine; remember, Iori is perfectly within his rights to not do so after all that he’s done. However, again, a distinction must be drawn between whether Iori forgives him, and whether he still considers it to be important to understand the mentality behind why Oikawa did what he did, and to reflect meaningfully on that instead of running himself in circles fixating on a grudge. Again, it’s about going forward with what he knows and has, instead of getting fixated on past deeds -- and with that, Iori resolves to “study”.

In The Door to Summer, we also learn that Iori allegedly has a “girlfriend” -- or, at least, someone Daisuke calls his girlfriend (Daisuke is a bit of an unreliable narrator here, given he’s also totally blown Hikari’s “rejection” of his beach hangout offer up as if it were a full-on total rejection of him completely). It is, perhaps, interesting that Daisuke is capable of getting this impression about Iori’s relationship with someone outside the 02 group, given that he’d been rather isolated from his peers all the way back in 02 episode 3...

Iori occupies an interesting position in Kizuna, because we only have one point in time where we got to intimately know him, and that was back when he was only nine years old -- and between that and Kizuna, there is a massive eight-year timeskip. He's 17 now, and we don't get any kind of catch-up period in the middle like we did with Takeru and Hikari in 02, and that is a time period where a lot of changes in demeanor could have happened with him compared to all of the others.

At first glance, it seems that he’s gotten much more stoic -- but this is actually something that should reasonably be expected, because now that he’s a teenager, it stands to reason that he would be much better at actually controlling his emotions and not necessarily get overwhelmed as easily. Plus, it’s not like he’s shown to be completely emotionless throughout the movie; he’s just doing a much more graceful job of holding himself back (look carefully at the credits and you can see him sweatdropping at Armadimon barging in on his practice), and moreover you can still see him deliver some pretty direct bluntness about the ramen in New York. Still with formal language, but nevertheless, no flattery is to be had here; Iori will dunk on you if he thinks you deserve it (even if it’s to do with mediocre ramen).

But there are some other interesting observations -- for one, the official website profile states that he’s actually settled on his future career in law at this point, and has made himself extremely busy in order to do so. (On top of that, he at least seems to be on friendly enough terms with his peers at school that they’re happy to greet him on their way out.) The drama CD indicates that Daisuke considers him the busiest out of the entire 02 group -- yet he and Takeru went out of their way to pick him up from school, because he’s that important to them. (Think about it -- how often do you see university students going this far to go retrieve a high school kid to hang out with them?) And likewise, Iori doesn’t even hesitate to state that he’ll make time for them, and throughout the movie he’s conspicuously seen in his school uniform, implying he really is moving things around to make it happen, because they’re that important to him.

He also engages in the single most chaotic action from this group, which is getting Armadimon to break into Menoa’s lab. It’s not that he’d inherently been against this kind of thing before, especially for something important (recall that he’d been happy to sneak into school for Golden Week with the others back during 02 episode 6), but it does beg the question of where and how he got this information that Armadimon could break electric locks. Perhaps he’s become a bit more, ah, pragmatic of a person since 02...

So, in the end, Iori does become an attorney, and specifically a defense attorney (the Japanese law system does draw the distinction). The person who once wanted to stick people he considered to be doing wrong into a “bad people” box and call it a day eventually came to embrace a career that involves understanding people and advocating for their perspective, or at least bargaining for something other than defaulting to the harshest assumption and a solution that allows all of the parties to best productively move forward.

He also has a daughter, who seems to have been raised to be as well-mannered and formal as he was. But, thankfully, he himself is there to help raise and guide her as she grows up.

[bananaofswifts]

Taylor Swift appears to be waging war over the serial resale of her old master recordings on two fronts. She recently confirmed that she is already underway in the process of re-recording the six albums she made for the Big Machine label, in order to steer her fans (and sync licensing execs) toward the coming alternate versions she’ll control. But now that she’s followed the surprise release of “Folklore” with the very, very surprise release of “Evermore” less than five months later, the thought may occur: If she keeps up this pace, she may have more new albums out on the Republic label than she ever did on Big Machine in a quarter of the time. Flooding the zone to further crowd out the oldies is unlikely to be Swift’s real motivation for giving the world a full-blown “Folklore” sequel this instantaneously: As motivations for prolific activity go, relieving and sublimating quarantine pressure is probably even better than revenge. Anyway, this is not a gift horse to be looked in the mouth. “Evermore,” like its mid-pandemic predecessor, feels like something that’s been labored over — in the best possible way — for years, not something that was written and recorded beginning in August, with the bow said to be put on it only about a week ago. Albums don’t get graded on a curve for how hastily they came together, or shouldn’t be, but this one doesn’t need the handicap. It’d be a jewel even if it’d been in progress forevermore and a day.The closest analog for the relation the new album bears to its predecessor might be one that’d seem ancient to much of Swift’s audience: U2 following “Achtung Baby” with “Zooropa” while still touring behind the previous album. It’s hard to remember now that a whole year and a half separated those two related projects; In that very different era, it seemed like a ridiculously fast follow-up. But the real comparison lies in how U2, having been rewarded for making a pretty gutsy change of pace with “Achtung,” seemed to say: You’re okay with a little experimentation? Let’s see how you like it when we really boil things down to our least commercial impulses, then — while we’ve still got you in the mood.Swift isn’t going avant-garde with “Evermore.” If anything, she’s just stripping things down to even more of an acoustic core, so that the new album often sounds like the folk record that the title of the previous one promised — albeit with nearly subliminal layers of Mellotrons, flutes, French horns and cellos that are so well embedded beneath the profuse finger-picking, you probably won’t notice them till you scour the credits. But it’s taking the risk of “Folklore” one step further by not even offering such an obvious banger (irony intended) as “Cardigan.” Aaron Dessner of the National produced or co-produced about two-thirds of the last record, but he’s on 14 out of 15 tracks here (Jack Antonoff gets the remaining spot), and so the new album is even more all of a piece with his arpeggiated chamber-pop impulses, Warmth amid iciness is a recurring lyrical motif here, and kind of a musical one, too, as Swift’s still increasingly agile vocal acting breathes heat into arrangements that might otherwise seem pretty controlled. At one point Swift sings, “Hey, December, I’m feeling unmoored,” like a woman who might even know she’s going to put her album out a couple of weeks before Christmas. It’s a wintry record — suitable for double-cardigan wearing! — and if you’re among the 99% who have been feeling unmoored, too, then perhaps you are Ready For It. Swift said in announcing the album that she was moving further into fiction songwriting after finding out it was a good fit on much of “Folklore,” a probably inevitable move for someone who’s turning 31 in a few days and appears to have a fairly settled personal life. Which is not to say that there aren’t scores to settle, and a few intriguing tracks whose real-life associations will be speculated upon. But just as the “Betty”/”August” love triangle of mid-year established that modern pop’s most celebrated confessional writer can just make shit up, too, so, here, do we get the narrator of “Dorothea,” a honey in Tupelo who is telling a childhood friend who moved away and became famous that she’s always welcome back in her hometown. (Swift may be doing a bit of empathic wondering in a couple of tracks here how it feels to be at the other end of the telescope.) One time the album takes a turn away from rumination into a pure spirit of fun — while getting dark anyway — is “No Body, No Crime,” a spirited double-murder ballad that may have more than a little inspiration in “Goodbye, Earl.” Since Swift already used the Dixie Chicks for background vocals two albums ago, for this one she brings in two of the sisters from Haim, Danielle and Este, and even uses the latter’s name for one of the characters. Yes, the rock band Haim’s featured appearance is on the only really country-sounding song on the record… there’s one you didn’t see coming, in the 16 hours you had to wonder about it. Yet there are also a handful of songs that clearly represent a Swiftian state of mind. At least, it’s easy to suppose that the love songs that opens the album, “Willow,” is a cousin to the previous record’s “Invisible String” and “Peace,” even if it doesn’t offer quite as many clearly corroborating details about her current relationship as those did. On the sadder side, Swift is apparently determined to run through her entire family tree for heartrending material. On “Lover,” she sang for her stricken mother; on “Folklore,” for her grandfather in wartime. In that tradition the new album offers “Marjorie,” about the beloved grandmother she lost in 2003, when she was 13. (The lyric videos that are being offered online mostly offer static visual loops, but the one for “Marjorie” is an exception, reviving a wealth of stills and home-movie footage of Grandma, who was quite a looker in a miniskirt in her day.) Rue is not something Swift is afraid of here anymore than anywhere else, as she sings, “I should’ve asked you questions / I should’ve asked you how to be / Asked you to write it down for me / Should’ve kept every grocery store receipt / ‘Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me,” lines that will leave a dry eye only in houses that have never known death. The piece de resistance in its poignance is Swift actually resurrecting faint audio clips of Marjorie, who was an opera singer back in the day. It’s almost like ELO’s “Rockaria,” played for weeping instead of a laugh. Swift has not given up, thank God, on the medium that brought her to the dance — the breakup song — but most of them here have more to do with dimming memories and the search for forgiveness, however slowly and incompletely achieved, than feist. But doesn’t Swift know that we like her when she’s angry? She does, and so she delves deep into something like venom just once, but it’s a good one. The ire in “Closure,” a pulsating song about an unwelcome “we can still be friends, right?” letter from an ex, seems so fresh and close to the surface that it would be reasonable to speculate that it is not about a romantic relationship at all, but a professional one she has no intention of ever recalling in a sweet light. Or maybe she does harbor that a disdain for an actual former love with that machinelike a level of intensity. What “Evermore” is full of is narratives that, like the music that accompanies them, really come into focus on second or third listen, usually because of a detail or two that turns her sometimes impressionistic modes completely vivid. “Champagne Problems” is a superb example of her abilities as a storyteller who doesn’t always tell all: She’s playing the role of a woman who quickly ruins a relationship by balking at a marriage proposal the guy had assumed was an easy enough yes that he’d tipped off his nearby family. “Sometimes you just don’t know the answer ‘ Til someone’s on their knees and asks you / ‘She would’ve made such a lovely bride / What a shame she’s fucked in the head’ / They said / But you’ll find the real thing instead / She’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred.” (Swift has doubled the F-bomb quotient this time around, among other expletives, for anyone who may be wondering whether there’s rough wordplay amid Dessner’s delicacy — that would an effing yes.) “‘Tis the Damn Season,” representing a gentler expletive, gives us a character who is willing to settle, or at least share a Christmas-time bed with an ex back in the hometown, till something better comes along. The pleasures here are shared, though not many more fellow artists have broken into her quarantine bubble this time around. Besides Haim’s cameo, Marcus Mumford offers a lovely harmony vocal on “Cowboy Like Me,” which might count as the other country song on the album, and even throws in something Swift never much favored in her Nashville days, a bit of lap steel. Its tale of male and female grifters meeting and maybe — maybe — falling in love is really more determinedly Western than C&W, per se, though. The National itself, as a group, finally gets featured billing on “Coney Island,” with Matt Berninger taking a duet vocal on a track that recalls the previous album’s celebrated Bon Iver collaboration “Exile,” with ex-lovers taking quiet turns deciding who was to blame. (Swift saves the rare laugh line for herself: “We were like the mall before the internet / It was the one place to be.) Don’t worry, legions of new Bon Iver fans: Dessner has not kicked Justin Vernon out of his inner circle just to make room for Berninger. The Bon Iver frontman whose appearance on “Folklore” came as a bit of a shock to some of his fan base actually makes several appearances on this album, and the one that gets him elevated to featured status again, as a duet, the closing “Evermore,” is different from “Exile” in two key ways. Vernon gets to sing in his high register… and he gets the girl. As it turned out, the year 2020 did not involve any such waiting for Swift fans; it’s an embarrassment of stunning albums-ending-in-“ore” that she’s mined out of a locked-down muse.

[winnix85]

About Lewis Nixon’s mother Doris Ryer Nixon (Mrs Stanhope Nixon)

Source: mostly from old newspapers and digitized documents (I can’t guarantee the accuracy because they are fragmented information. I will just put it out there for someone may find some interesting useful backstories).

Doris Ryer was born on Oct 1 1894.

Her father Fletcher Ryer was a wealthy pioneer agriculturalist in California. He owned 6,600-acre (27 km2) ranch on Ryer Island, which was named in their honor. Because Doris was his only heiress, this ranch all went to Doris and then to Lewis Nixon III and ultimately to Grace Nixon. It's an agricultural (instead of livestocks) ranch. They grew crops, fruits and vegetables such as wheat, milo, safflower, pears, apples, cherries, grapes, tomatoes and asparagus. They produced such large amount of asparagus that Doris's mother, Mrs Ryer was nicknamed Asparagus Queen back then. This farm is still up and running today, managed by Clarence Hester from 1950s to 1990s (Nix' war buddy, the regimental S3, the one who wrestled with Dick in that photo), after him by his son Thomas Hester.

Doris was educated at Madame Payen's school in Paris from 1906 to 1914 (her entire high school).

Fletcher Ryer died an early death in 1911 (when Doris was about 16). Doris was close to her mother Mrs Blanche Ryer. Mrs Blanche Ryer, though very charming, married very very young. As a pretty, attractive, wealthy widow she determined to ensure that her daughter Doris have a brilliant "bellehood" as a girl. She took Doris to tour around the world. For example, in Sep1913, they traveled to Russia to present Doris at the court of Tsar Nicholas II (Very inconvenient timing, I have to say).

Doris was very sweet and attractive, with pretty black eyes. Her mother has always been most ambitious for her handsome daughter. She aimed to marry Doris to British aristocracy. Doris was presented at Buckingham Palace in 1914, wearing "a white satin princess gown embroidered in pearls and brilliants". Mrs Ryer has had her eye on several members of the British aristocracy for Doris, "but this cruel war, of course, smashed all of her well-laid plans to smithereens." She has to stoop so low to choose from American heirs.

Doris married Stanhope in Jan 1917 in New York at Church of Heavenly Rest. Their wedding was the social event of the year. Guests from coast to coast attended Nixon-Ryer wedding.

The bride's costume was soft white satin, made in combination with pearl embroidered net. She worn a lovely veil, the same that had been worn by her grandmother at her wedding, which was held in place with a band of diamonds. Her only other ornament was a necklace of diamonds with a large pear-shaped diamond pendant, the gift of the bridegroom.

Because the father of bride has died, she was given away by governor of New York Charles S. Whitman. Among those in attendance were the Brazilian ambassador and Argentine ambassador.

After the wedding the new couple went to Bermuda for honeymoon and then they lived at 52 East Fifty-second Street NYC (but later moved to 46 East 65 Street). In 1920 census, the household of the new couple included Stanhope the head of the house, Doris the wife, Lewis the one and half yr old old baby son, and a butler and 3 maids. They also have a suburb house at 167 Grange Ave, New Jersey (a 20-room estate, equiped with oil burning hot water heat, a 4-car garage, servants quarters, a boat house and a stable).

After marrying off her daughter to the Nixons, Mrs Blanche Ryer re-married in 1920 to Clifford Erskine-Bolst, a British conservative party politician. Mr Erskine-Bolst was elected to the British House of Commons in 1923 and again in 1931. To help him win the election, she made generous donations to King George's Hospital in England. She campained hard for him, making speeches and appealing to the constituency in the South Hackney district. 

In 1920s, mama Doris bought a villa at Riviera France from the late Grand Duchess Anastasia of Russia. She lived there until her death in 1939 (This villa went to Nix. But he didn't like living there, too much hassle to open the house. He prefered to stay at the hotel Cap Estel. In 1950s he leased it to the Kennedys).

Doris and Stanhope seemed to be ok in 1920s. They attended social events together and traveled to England together. After Lew, they had a baby boy in 1922 (who tragically died in 3 months. Doris' mother went to New York to be with her.) Then they had Blanche Nixon in Aug 1924 (also born in NYC). While living in NYC, it seems little Lew was often spending time with his grandfather. Grandpa often took him to play at central park. For example, he took Lew to that model yacht regatta in central park when he was 7, and to skate in central park in Jan 1927 when lew was 8. In 1927, Doris took 2 yr old Blanche to France to visit her mother, but she didn't take Lew (maybe he was too naughty?). Anyway, Doris took Blanche to see grandma almost every year but Lew was only with them on one visit when he was 10 yr old.

Doris appeared to be lonely and out of place in the social circle of New York. Here is a social note about her in 1929: "A remarkable girl with her embroidery frame, actually engaged in a simple, normal occupation in a land where the atmosphere is charged with hang-overs, gambling-losses and mistrust. Nobody around here looks twice at a woman with mauve hair like Madame de Roch, or at a man with ear-rings and a bracelet on his ankle. But let a girl take out a half-finished centerpiece and commence embroidering and every lorgnette in the crowd is whipped into place."

At the end of 1920s, Doris seemed to be so unhappy to live on the east coast anymore, and she still regarded CA to be her real home. Stanhope sold their house in New Jersey and bought a new house in Montecito (also a mansion with a large stable and everything). In the 1930 census they were living at 180 Cold Spring Road, montecito, CA (Stanhope, Doris, Lewis (11yr), Blanche(5yr), and a French governess, and 2 servants). Lew attended boarding school at Cate School in Santa Barbara.

In social notes in 1930s, Stanhope and Doris mainly attended social events in CA (Santa Barbara and San Francisco), they also travel to New York to visit Mr and Mrs Lewis Nixon Sr.. The family traveled a lot, not only back and forth between east-west coasts, but also trips abroad. Doris always took Blanche with her, but Lew traveled on his own even when he was as young as 15 yr old. It appears that Doris and Stanhope's relationship has gone sour in 1930s. For example, in this 1934 social note: "The Stanhope Nixons will spend the Christmas holidays with his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Nixon. Mr Nixon will return to California on Jan 1, and Mrs Nixon will sail for Europe to spend six months on the Riviera with her mother." (almost as if Doris was running away from Stanhope and hide in France after briefly met him on Xmas day. Meanwhile 15 yr old Lew was at boarding school in CA).

In 1940 census, Doris and Blanche were still living at 180 Cold Spring Road, montecito, CA (with a housekeeper, a cook and a maid). Stanhope was no longer in this household. Maybe they have separated. Lew was also not in this household for he has left for college.

Among the CA high society, Doris was a all-around likable person: "Doris is always bubbling over with enthusiasm, her joy of living and her wit making her a welcome guest at any affair". She was very enthusiastic about opera (and art events in general, such as oriental dance). She attended the openning of Opera Season at San Francisco every year (usually with Blanche, and she will grab Lew when she can catch him). In 1940, she offered a prize for the "Best one act play" to stimulate interest in the Lobero Theater of Santa Barbara. She also went to see excellent plays in New York when it's in season and made some witty comments about the remarkable fashion trends in New York: "The only lavender and old lace that you see today is on the individual--the lavender in the tinted hair, and the lace on the dainty unmentionables."

After the Pearl Harbor Attack, Doris turned from a socialite to a civic leader. In 1942 she became the national vice-president of the American Women's Voluntary Services (AWVS) (and during ww2). The AWVS recruited and trained women to harvest crops, do nurse works, driving trucks and sell war bonds. She encouraged women to show more interest in international affairs. She also founded Guide Dogs for the Blind in 1943 (primarily to help the blinded veterans) and she made generous donations. In addition, she was the state commander of the California Cancer Society.

The AWVS duties kept her so busy, she has to relinquish her box at the opera house. She only had long enough time to have a toasted chicken sandwich for lunch. She put generous amount of English mustard on her sandwich. When her friends cautioned her not to put too much, she said:"If it puts me out, I will be a most excellent subject for the first aid class I am about to attend, and we will all find out how much we know!"

In the summer of 1945, Doris and Stanhope finally divorced (Stanhope even filed counter-suits seeking divorce on the grounds of desertion). They divorced in August, and Stanhope married "the Blond" in September 1945.

In June 1948, Doris died at home (944 Chestnut Str San Francisco CA). She had a stroke (and she always had hypertention). It seems her death was an unexpected sudden death because one month before she was still traveling around France with her daughter Blanche. Her will dictated to split her legacy equally between Blanche and Lew. She also left generous amount of money to employees such as housekeeper, secretary. For a former maid, she gave her $225 monthly for life.

[lauravias]

Ted Bundy

Ted Bundy, born Theodore Robert Cowell on November 24, 1946, was one of the most notorious American serial killers. He is known to have kidnapped, raped and killed at least 36 young women in 1970s and probably earlier. He was executed in the electric chair in 1989. His murders have inspired many novels and films about serial killers.

Photo of Ted Bundy

His mother was Eleanor Louise Cowell, who was 22 years old and unmarried when she gave birth to Bundy. His biological father's identity may never be confirmed, since on his birth certificate the father was listed as unknown; also, some rumours identify his father as his grandfather. For the first three years of his life, Bundy lived with his maternal grandparents and was told that his mother was his sister. He eventually discovered the truth and expressed a lifelong resentment toward his mother for never talking to him about his true parentage. In 1951 Louise met and married Johnny Culpepper Bundy, a hospital cook, and later that year the couple officially adopted Bundy, that took his name. He had a tense relationship with his stepfather, and complained to his girlfriend that Johnny "wasn't very bright” and "didn't make much money".

Ted Bundy’s parents, Eleanor Louise Cowell and  Johnny Culpepper Bundy

After graduating from high school in 1965, Bundy attended the University of Puget Sound for one year before transferring to the University of Washington. There, he fell in love with Stephanie Brooks, a wealthy and lovely young woman from California. He was devastated by their breakup, and many of his following victims resembled his college girlfriend. He graduated from the University of Washington with a degree in psychology in 1972.

Attacks and murders

There is no consensus on when or where Bundy began killing women. He told different stories to different people and refused to reveal the specifics of his first crimes. For example, he told his mother that he attempted his first kidnapping in 1969 in Ocean City, New Jersey, but did not kill anyone until 1971 in Seattle, yet told psychologist Art Norman that he had killed two women in Atlantic City in 1969.

Homicide detective Robert D. Keppel and biographer Ann Rule, who had previously worked with Bundy, both believed that he might have started killing as a teenager. Circumstantial evidence suggested that he may have kidnapped and killed eight-year-old Ann Marie Burr when he was 14 years old, but he repeatedly denied. His earliest documented homicides were committed in 1974, at the age of 27. The disappearances all took place at night, usually near ongoing construction work, and the victims were all young, attractive, and with long hair parted in the middle; at most crime scenes there were sightings of a man wearing a cast or a sling, and driving a brown or tan Volkswagen Beetle.

Photos of Ted Bundy's 1968 Volkswagen Beetle, in which he committed many of his crimes. The vehicle is on display at the National Museum of Crime and Punishment. 

Items found in his car when he was arrested in 1975

His first confirmed attack occurred shortly after midnight on January 4, 1974, when Bundy entered the apartment of Joni Lenz. After bludgeoning her with a metal rod from her bed frame, he sexually assaulted her with either the same rod or a metal speculum. She survived, but with permanent physical and mental disabilities. In the early morning of February 1, 1974, Bundy broke into the room of Lynda Ann Healy; he beat her unconscious, dressed her in blue jeans, a white blouse, and boots, and carried her away. On March 12, Donna Gail Manson, left her dormitory to attend a jazz concert on campus, but never arrived. On April 17, Susan Elaine Rancourt disappeared while on her way to her dorm room after an advisors' meeting at Central Washington State College in Ellensburg. On May 6, Roberta Kathleen Parks left her dormitory to have coffee with her friends at the Memorial Union, but never arrived. On June 1, Brenda Carol Ball disappeared after leaving the Flame Tavern in Burien, near Seattle; she was last seen in the parking lot, talking to a brown-haired man. On June 11, UW student Georgann Hawkins disappeared while walking to her sorority house.

The murders culminated on July 14, 1974, when Bundy abducted two women, Denise Marie Naslund and Janice Anne Ott, in the daylight and from crowded areas. Five female witnesses said that a good-looking young man, who introduced himself as "Ted", asked their help to unload a sailboat from his car. Four girls refused, but one agreed and accompanied him to his car. She saw there was no sailboat and fled. Using the same story, he approached and abducted Janice Anne Ott and, approximately four hours later, Denise Marie Naslund. On September 6, 1974, two grouse hunters found the skeletal remains of the two girls near a service road in Issaquah. After these happenings, King County police disclosed a composite sketch, that was printed in regional newspapers and transmitted on local television stations. These are not the only murders that he committed, as it is believed that he has killed more than a hundred women.

Newspaper from 1974 warning young women about “Ted”, aka Ted Bundy

Timeline of Bundy’s attacks       

In 1974                       

Joni Lenz, age 18, survived the attack on January 4, 1974

Lynda Ann Healy, age 21, died on February 1, 1974

Donna Gail Manson, age 19, died on March 12, 1974

Susan Elaine Rancourt, age 18, died on April 17, 1974

Roberta Kathleen Parks, age 20, died on April 17, 1974

Brenda Carol Ball, age 22, died on June 1, 1974

Georgeann Hawkins, age 18, missing since June 11, 1974

Denise Marie Naslund, age 18, died on July 14, 1974

Janice Anne Ott, age 23, died on July 14, 1974

Nancy Wilcox, age 16, missing since October 2, 1974

Melissa Anne Smith, age 17, died on October 26, 1974

Laura Ann Aime, age 17, missing since October 31, 1974

Carol DaRonch, age 18, survived the attack on November 8, 1974

Debra Jean Kent, age 17, died on November 8, 1974

In 1975

Caryn Eileen Campbell, age 23, died on January 12, 1975

Julie Cunningham, age 26, died on March 15, 1975

Denise Lynn Oliverson, age 24, missing since April 6, 1975

Melanie Suzanne Cooley, age 18, died on April 15, 1975

Lynette Dawn Culver, age 12, missing since May 6, 1975

Susan Curtis, age 15, missing since June 27, 1975

In 1978

Margaret Elizabeth Bowman, age 21, died on January 15, 1978

Lisa Levy, age 20, died on January 15, 1978

Kathy Kleiner, age 20, attacked on January 15, 1978

Karen Chandler, age 22, attacked on January 15, 1978

Cheryl Thomas, age 21, attacked on January 15, 1978

Kimberly Dianne Leach, age 12, died on February 9, 1978

Arrests, last murders and death

On August 16, 1975, Utah Highway Patrol officer Bob Hayward arrested Bundy in Granger (a Salt Lake City suburb). The officer searched the car after he noticed that the front passenger seat had been removed and placed on the back seats. Inside he found a ski mask, a second mask created from pantyhose, a crowbar, handcuffs, trash bags, a rope, an ice pick, and other items. The police did not have enough evidence to detain Bundy, so he was released. Afterwards, Salt Lake City police placed him on 24-hour surveillance. 

Ted Bundy's 1975 Utah mug shot

In September Bundy sold his Volkswagen Beetle to a Midvale teenager and Utah police impounded it. Inside the car, FBI technicians found hairs of Caryn Campbell, and some hair strands "microscopically indistinguishable" from those of Melissa Smith and Carol DaRonch. There was sufficient evidence to charge him with aggravated kidnapping and attempted criminal assault in the DaRonch case. Further investigation confirmed that he had not been with his girlfriend on any of the nights when the Pacific Northwest victims had vanished. In February 1976 Bundy stood trial for the DaRonch kidnapping, and after a four-day bench trial and a weekend of deliberation, he was found guilty. In June he was sentenced to 15 years in the Utah State Prison, and after a period of resistance he was transferred to Aspen in January 1977. 

While in the Pitkin County Courthouse's library, in Aspen, he opened a window and jumped out, managing to run away. He was a fugitive for six days, until two police officers found him and brought him back in jail. He planned his escape a second time; he sawed a hole of about one square foot between the steel reinforcing bars in his cell's ceiling and, on the night of December 30, stacked books on his bed to simulate his body, climbed into the crawl space and escaped. 

After evading, he travelled from Aspen to Tallahassee, Florida, passing from Chicago, Ann Arbor and Atlanta. There, on January 15, he attacked another five women, Margaret Bowman and Lisa Levy who died, Kathy Kleiner, Karen Chandler and Cheryl Thomas who survived. On February 8 he attacked another woman, Kimberly Dianne Leach; her partially mummified remains were found in a pig farrowing shed near Suwannee River State Park, near Lake City. He was arrested four days later by police officer David Lee for having stolen a car. 

Two of Ted Bundy’s victims

After numerous trials and three death sentences, Bundy was executed at 7:16 a.m. on January 24, 1989, at the Florida State Prison in an electric chair. Outside the prison, hundres of people cheered, sang, danced and even set off fireworks. His body was cremated in Gainesville, and no public ceremony was held.

Sources:

Ted Bundy | Crimes, Death & Facts | - Britannica

Ted Bundy - Biography

Ted Bundy’s Victims - Women’sHealth

Ted Bundy - Wikipedia