#with whom she has what i can only describe as an open relationship

[whimperaudioconnoisseur]

screaming crying throwing up over the love letters between virginia woolf and vita sackville-west

[vanilleandclove]

the meadow in which you lay | 5

ser erryk cargyll x arryn!reader | chapter five: a knight's sworn virtue

As you and Erryk flee King's Landing to Dragonstone, it is only for certain that without the eyes and ears of others, your chance for love and pleasure are limited but boundless.

word count: 1.6k | warnings: unprotected sex (are condoms even canon in this universe?), seasickness and nausea, the reader literally hard launches. | a/n: finally, the sexual tension is released! also two-three more parts left... but which writing would you like to see after this?

previous - next

taglist: @wolvestitches @holb32 @callsignwidow @fwaeriys @hummusxx @erysione

"Where is Princess Rhaenys held?" you asked Erryk as his hand gripped the upper part of your bicep, guiding you throughout the halls of the castle.

"Keep your head down" he spoke sternly, his voice laced with such perturb for your anonymity; if Criston or any of the Hightowers caught the two of you, they'd surely make a demonstration out of you.

Your head hung low as Erryk took sharp turns, being greeting with numerous guards and handmaidens, until you both made it to Rhaenys's room only to be met with a separate knight, "Cole asked me to guard the Princess's door for the next shift; you're excused" Erryk told the knight, only earning a puzzled look.

"Need me to escort the whore in your hands Cargyll?" the knight smugly asked, only gaining a tick that left the mouth of Erryk.

"I will handle it" Erryk scoffed, looking at you as you anchored yourself further into his armored-clad body.

As the knight left you wondered how tone deaf and beyond disgraceful the other knights and Kingsguard were, how their training and vow of chastity must thoroughly impair their judgment and decency for women and how they describe and treat them. You were lucky that Erryk still had the honor to treat you as a woman with feelings, like a human. He treated your honor with such delicacy when he could have simply sworn off restraint and ravaged your body like a man whom held zero respect for love and all the respect for lust. Rhaenyra faced the same fealty when she had Harwin, you pitied the fact that she were not able to love the man of her hearts desires, though she did gain the affections and hand of Daemon; the father of her three firstborns as they grew into spitting images of their father must leave a sorrow taste.

"My apologies Y/n, had I be King or an upper lord, I would have had his tongue" Erryk whispered to you before tampering with the lock on Rhaenys's door. Though failing at first you quickly took a pin from your hair to mimic a key, what would the kind knight do without you. "You never fail to surprise me".

"It was a simple trick my mother once taught me" you told him before twisting the doorknob to open it, being met with the Princess. "Your savior is here my dear Princess" you joked lightly before Erryk went into the door to hand Rhaenys a change of clothes as disguise.

"I can only imagine Alicent attempted get into your head with promises her father and her cannot keep" you told Rhaenys, helping her dress into less proper dressings, "Whatever side you choose to be on will either make or break the relationship you have with your own kin. The support of you and your lord husband is dire, with Corlys being on the brink of health, you act as his ward and voice of reason".

Rhaenys only gave you a fond look, admiring you've now become, "You have always been a spitfire Lady Arryn, just as your father. Though I do not understand the unwavering support to your cousin with all that has occurred".

"I will defend my kin until death" you answered, "Only then the one's against my own will know peace".

"Just as Ser Erryk swore an oath of his own" Rhaenys poked at you, "Let us proceed, I must get to Meleys".

You half agreed, now that the coronation was to take place on the hour, the Dragonpit may not be as secured, "We must direct the Princess to the Dragonpit Erryk, Meleys will be of-".

"They will be expecting her there-".

"They expect Aegon to be crowned in front of the small and higher folk, the Dragonpit is of no concern of theirs. Meleys is needed, my love" you fought back, acquiring a smirk from both Rhaenys and Erryk, "I will follow you, Rhaenys will go off on Meleys after reaching the pit, she will reach my cousin quicker than the two of us".

As both you and Erryk reached the fleet of ships, he held your hand like a vice as you stepped into the designated ship to Dragonstone, the floors wet from rain and the ocean, preventing you from slipping. You looked up from the floor, still being held by Erryk to see Meleys and Rhaenys flying above you, hearing the screams of the people behind you. Now Rhaenys knows how to make a demonstration, you thought, a small smirk reaching your face before Erryk directed you to the quarters of the ship.

"We should arrive upon sunset tomorrow" Erryk told you upon removing his cloak and armor in order to relax his tensed muscles. You nodded before unraveling the strings of your cloak and corset beneath the draped fabrics, the knight not noticing before looking up at you. Your boots knocked off quickly, trousers removed with haste, the sight of your supple breasts set his mind on a whirlwind.

"You are not sworn to a King" you spoke, "Nor have you verbally made a sworn oath to the Queen". You stared into your lover's soul, wondering if he caught where you were coming from, you hoped he did, or else you'd be rather embarrassed to be completely bare to a man under zero pretenses. Fortunately, he caught on your words, his body making way to your own, his hand finding purchase along your curves.

You gracefully untied the knight's breeches, before yanking them downwards, he removed his own blouse. Standing before each other, naked and bare, staring intently at the man who captured your heart when you were in your youth, now a woman, the loyalty never wavered or bent. You had zero idea who laid the first kiss, but you did not complain as the passion ignited between the two of you like dragon's breath. His hand reached down to the aching pulse between your legs, his fingers lightly toying with your clit, your moans filling his mouth, nipples perked on his own chest, your body attempting to maintain its composure before your knees buckled onto a spring bed.

Your legs immediately wrapped around Erryk's waist, your hands finding themselves to hold his face dearly before kissing him once more, as if it was your last. Your left hand leaving to rake down the knight's chiseled body and the scars that painted it, as you reached his pelvis, you stared directly into his pupils before directing his cock to be in you. Your moans bounced off the walls as his leaky tip entered your sopping cunt, your hand gripping onto him for dear life before he positioned himself to enter you more.

"You may move love" you whimpered, your voice soft yet filled with wild lust that turned into groans of pleasure as Erryk pumped into you, his grunts intertwined with your moans, his hands finding themselves raked into your hair whilst the other was holding your waist secured. You let him milk your pleasure, allowing to be taken and sensually being cared for as the knight littered kisses along your breasts and nape of your neck.

"I love you Y/n" he shuddered, his pace and strokes being painfully slow yet left you ravenous for more, you felt yourself reach the edge of bliss as strings of curses left your mouth, your nails scraping his back. Your moans filling the room once more.

"I love you Erryk" you replied, holding onto him as neared your climax, your cunt fluttering. Your life flashing before your eyes, but all were memories of Erryk. "My moon and stars".

He smiled before feeling your cunt reach its peak, as you gripped on him with vigor, he felt his own climax reaching its peak soon after, his seed coating your walls. You both lay next to each other, chasing your own breaths. Until you spoke, "Had I known how much pleasure is gained from this, I would let go of restraint ages ago"

"Thought you were not so keen on being an oathbreaker my love" Erryk teased, holding you in his arms, close to his chest, "Do not fret, I would have easily as well".

You chuckled before feeling a pit in your stomach, a faint burning ravaging your throat. Immediately you rose to the light bile arising in your throat, quickly you covered yourself with Erryk's cloak before exiting the quarter to release the bile oversea. Your coughs burning your throat further. Erryk left the quarter near after with his breeches messily put on.

"Are you alright?" Erryk asked, massaging circles into your back, holding your hair up and out of your face before kissing the top of your head.

"Seasickness it is all" you told Erryk, "It should go away once we reach Dragonstone".

Your life was held in his hands, as his was to yours, the waves that rocked the ship greatly only led you grip onto Erryk for support. Oh, how you loved him greatly, how he loved you with even more sheer intensity.

[shadowcanine]

NATALIE “SAMANTHA” RUPNOW, AND WHAT WE KNOW.

This post is for informational / educational purposes only, I do not condone her actions. What she did is horrific, but we must learn from it in order to stop it from happening again. If we forget history, it will repeat itself.

Natalie “Samantha” Rupnow is the 15-year old assailant behind the December 16th attack on Abundant Life Christian School in Madison, WI, which left 3 dead (including herself) and 6 injured- 2 of whom are facing life-threatening injuries, but as of today (12/17) seem to be, at the very least, in stable condition.

At 11AM EST, Samantha brought a handgun (believe it was a .9mm) into a mixed grade study hall, and opened fire.

The deceased include a teacher at ALCS, a student, and Samantha herself- though the victims have not been identified yet. In a press conference, the mayor was asked to identify them, and replied with “Why do you really want to know? Leave them be.”

The school, ALCS, has been described by students, locals, and alumni as “extreme.” It’s a Christian school that teaches that evolution isn’t real, and local politicians are hand-picked by God himself. According to current students at the school, bullying is an issue, but it’s not very severe. I recently spoke to one individual who said “Samantha wasn’t bullied. She was quiet, and didn’t fit into any of the friend-groups here, but she wasn’t bullied.” I have proof this individual attends ALCS, but I have no way of actually confirming these specific claims, so take them with a grain of salt.

Samantha was a part of the TCC, even owning a replica of Eric Harris’ “HELL YEAH KMFDM” shirt- the one that he wears in the cafeteria video. Samantha clearly drew inspiration from Columbine, but Sandy Hook may have also been a factor- this year, the anniversary of SH fell on a Saturday. Samantha committed her act the next possible school day.

Her manifesto was posted onto her X, @postalbrained, but it was done on Google Drive- and Samantha did not make the document public. Her account has since been made private by a friend, but Samantha’s boyfriend has released the full 6 page manifesto to an influencer- it can be found on the X account @slatzism . I will not post it here for sake of not wanting to lose my account.

I have very little to say regarding her manifesto- this post isn’t one for my opinions, so I’m trying to keep it factual. Despite reading and re-reading, I cannot figure out a clear motive. She did state that suicide without taking anyone with her would be “a waste”- which may be a reference to the Zero Day (2003) scene, in which Calvin Gabriel says.. basically the same thing. This isn’t confirmed, but it would make sense, as she liked a lot of Zero Day content on Tumblr.

As far as her family goes, Samantha claims she didn’t have a good relationship with either parent, describing her father as “verbally abusive” and sharing a memory in her manifesto in which her mother ignored Samantha’s crying, because her mother would rather “spend time with her boyfriend.”

A lot isn’t known, so this post isn’t very long- and I will be updating it as I discover more, but while I have your attention, I’d like to clear up some misinformation:

- Samantha Rupnow, 15, and her boyfriend, 17- are both cisgender. Samantha is not trans, and never was- anybody who tells you differently is trying to push an agenda.

- Samantha was not a misandrist or radfem. This comes from an alleged “segment of her manifesto” that was leaked, but the photo has been proven to have zero correlation to Samantha. If anything, she was incredibly misogynistic, dedicating an entire section of her manifesto to slut shame women.

Here are all confirmed photos of Samantha Rupnow:

* note that the first photo includes her edited photo (left) as well as the original photo (right)

[techramonic]

An Interview with Galina Roslyakova: Vlad’s personal life according to his mother

A year after the shooting, BAZA, a Russian news outlet, interviewed Vlad’s mother Galina Roslyakova. Here are several details she had disclosed about her son:

He was gifted in drawing and engineering, however was an average student.

When he was younger, Vlad attended a kindergarten in Kerch with a chess focus. His mother considered him as a normal child who had an interest in drawing. He had hobbies such as architectural modeling, construction, and designing. He had a particular fascination with airplane models that he would try to configure by himself, although his father would occasionally help.

He then continued to paint throughout his life and excelled at it, Galina believes he inherited this skill from his father, Igor. Vlad mostly expressed an interest in drawing domestic animals and portraits of people. He focused a lot on the details and drew rather thoroughly. Unfortunately, she has none of his drawings left to reminisce.

In school, he was “statistically average”. He studied for at least three to five hours and was in the middle line of poor to excelling. He didn't dislike nor have an interest in school and had no specific goal yet. According to Galina, “Not all dreams can be realized.” So in a pragmatic sense, his parents tried to instill something that would have perhaps helped him by trying to search for something suitable for his life and future. She had also described Vlad to be somewhat confused or unsure of himself:

“You can show a different side of yourself. You can realize yourself somewhere else. And this period of transition from school to college was somehow unconscious. A lot depends on how this might turn out. Every person's views and values ​​change. Children must realize during this period that they are growing up primarily for themselves. He understood that he was not quite a child and not quite an adult.”

Vlad did not finish highschool and went straight to college, explaining why he was 18 during his 4th year.

Galina and Igor saw no point in enrolling him into 10th and 11th grade because it was unclear to them that he would graduate at all, seeing that his academic performance was mediocre at best. During his transition from highschool to college, Galina recalled it to be a stressful experience, “just like any other transition”, she says. She had attended all parent meetings and recalled that teachers would often describe her son to be socially inept. He was not keen on socializing but she figured this must have been his way of coping with his adaptation, since it was a contrasting environment to what he was used to.

“I went to all parent meetings. At the beginning of the training they were carried out. I talked with curators and other teachers. There was a phrase that he was not very sociable . Not all people are open and ready to communicate with others. At that time it was a period of adaptation. Everyone tolerates it differently, but I wouldn’t say that he had a difficult time with it.”

More on relationships, since their house was located in a residential area not far from other neighbors who lived nearby, Vlad easily could communicate with a few neighborhood kids whom his mother considered to be his “friends”. Rather, they were his classmates. 

“I think Vlad chose exactly those friends who suited him according to his views and interests at that period of his life when he was at school. He also played Minecraft. Well, of course, communication there is no longer only with classmates.”

Vlad still kept in contact with his father despite his mother's wishes to not be so in touch.

Technically, Vlad's parents were not officially divorced. Igor’s traumatic brain injury which subsequently led to the development of a mental illness was seen by Galina as a danger toward her and her son if they continued to live together. Coupled with the fact that he developed a dependency on alcohol, she had figured out that she had to make the resolution to move out with her son to protect their well-being. Despite this, Galina mentions that even with their separation, Vlad still communicated with his father, since it is a relationship not within her control. At first, Vlad was offended but as he grew, he began to contemplate the idea of his mother’s decision. He continued to communicate with his father as he grew older.

“With age, he made his own decision. He begins to make his choice whether he should communicate with his father. What will this give him and does he need it? That is, he could decide for himself. That is, in this regard, I gave him freedom of choice.”

He would often go to the garage together on weekends, which developed Vlad's interest in technology and personal interests like motorcycles, which he would’ve liked to study. Vlad then on became a major in the course: installation, commissioning and operation of electrical equipment of industrial and civil buildings.

Signs of isolation and depression were under the radar since he barely communicated.

Apart from the detail that teachers have said he was rather not very sociable, closer to the third year he already became withdrawn and kept to himself. He would often divert this topic of his behavior as his ‘right to privacy’ whenever asked, so no further questions would ensue. He was silent most of the time, got ready to go to class straight away and sat in his room ("another office") to scroll through his phone. He was quiet, didn't talk about himself that much, which led her to not anticipate the events that would unfold soon after. However, she said that she could sense a slight change in him, since he became more private. She did respect his boundaries however, since she saw it as his right to personal space. 

“Well, slightly, so to speak. Because, in principle, many people reach such a period and age, and so, in communicating with their friends who have children of this age, many children tend to have, so to speak, personal space. Personal life, this is how the period begins. You know, like “I have the right to personal space, ‘I have the right to privacy.’ Within reason, because we live together in the same apartment”

Did he need more attention? Galina expresses that although she didn't primarily focus on him at all times, she did care for him and paid attention. She tried to make him talk and actively made efforts to communicate with him to get him to open up more about himself, however to no avail. So, in an outward perspective, everything seemed rather normal for her, and with the lack of properly established and structured communication, it was difficult to see through her son. After all, you cannot properly fit in puzzle pieces when there are no pieces provided to arrange.

It was difficult for her to speculate about the topic of whether or not he was depressed, nor did she anticipate that somehow he felt abandoned because he would often just sweep things under the rug. The signs didn’t manifest in any way in everyday life because again, he was very secretive and rarely talked about himself in conversations at home, so things easily fell out of notice and undetected.

“What percentage of love do children want to receive from us? Do we feel this as parents? Or if they tell us, let’s say: 'Well, at the technical school there were difficult tasks and classes, I’m so tired that I don’t want to communicate.' And you are trying to do everything to make contact with him. The children say: 'Well, I don’t want to now.' You won't really force him too much... But you still have to try to do it. Basically, I tried to do all this. What provoked it, I can’t say anything. For me, all this still remains a big, big secret as a mother. I cannot put together logic and specific pieces of the puzzle for myself. Therefore, everything remains like this.”

Vlad's online presence was monitored until the age of 14.

Galina had monitored his online access until he was around the ages of 13 to 14. After the age of 16, this period however stopped because of the gap between parents and their children's familiarity with devices and the technologicaĺ world. So, she stopped keeping track. 

“I wished in my heart that somewhere they had slowed him down.”

She was unaware of his online presence in crime communities since 2016. According to her, at home he only sat and played minecraft,

“I didn't see this. If a person really wants to hide something... Maybe he did it sometimes, but not in my presence. At home he sat and played Minecraft. He talked there with one, then with another, then boys, then girls - they all communicate with each other there, laugh. There were different emotions, there was laughter.”

She was aware that he went to study firearms in the summer.

Vlad shared a common interest with his father with firearms. He also said he would join the army. Galina speculated that this might be due to the benefits, since the income of military salaries was fairly high. Vlad earned an internship at a plant prior to this, and it was good news for her but in reality, Vlad's perspective was that he did not generally take a liking to the place.

According to him, “I talked to the people who work there, I don’t see much prospects in income and in general my place in this.”

During the summer, he then began to study firearms through the internet and via the Internet, register with government services, and collect documents. She was against this act because she saw no purpose to this, however, she couldn't stop him. He excused this by saying he had an interest in hunting. Though she initially thought that he had given up on this prospect and moved on, since these documents were rather complex and difficult to complete, he then went on to successfully buy a gun after passing the exams and receiving his license. 

She hadn't known of this, of course, since it was reported that he hid his gun in an abandoned warehouse to avoid speculations from her.

Here's the article, if you want to read more:

https://baza.io/posts/1b2005f5-d53e-4380-989d-b6f846cd6aab

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 46

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 7k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Friday, February 5th; 1:50 PM - Manchester Airport.

It's hard to describe the feeling I have about what I'm experiencing right now. Not too long ago, this was a situation I couldn't have imagined. I lead the way ahead of my two instructors as we board the plane that will take off for Barcelona.

“Damn, Barcelona, really!” comments Ingrid. “How can you even think for a second about leaving that incredible city to live here?”

I raise an eyebrow, surprised that she knows something like that about me. Well, to be honest, it's not a secret anymore, but I had never talked about it directly with Ingrid.

“A place isn't everything,” I shrug.

I smile when I see Shay welcoming passengers in the distance. When she sees me, she seems to recognize me because she smiles back. We’re almost at her station now.

“Hello, Ona. I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”

“It almost didn’t happen,” I half-joked.

“What happened to you?”

I tend to forget the state of my face, but thanks to people’s comments, I’m reminded of it. According to Lucy, everything is healing well, though it will still take some time before it all disappears. At least my aches and pains are less severe, which is already a good thing.

“Oh, um…”

I stop when I feel a familiar warmth settle on the small of my back. I turn around to find Lucy.

“We're blocking the way, baby.”

I blush, still not quite used to this kind of comment in public. Shay smiles at me, not helping to ease my embarrassment.

“She’s right,” she says. “I’ll come to see you at your seat later, hoping you don’t fall asleep first.”

I nod, smiling timidly. It seems like she’s remembered my habits, even with all the passengers she sees every day.

“Have a good flight.”

“Thanks.”

I reach for Lucy’s hand to hold it as we make our way to our numbered seats. I sigh when we’re finally settled after all that waiting. I find myself in the middle because I let Ingrid have the window seat, which she seemed to appreciate. I get the impression she hasn’t flown much in her life.

“Who was that?” she asks me.

“Who? The flight attendant?”

“Yeah. You seem to know each other well.”

“Don’t play the jealous card, Lex,” Ingrid teases.

“I’m not jealous,” she retorts. “It was just a question.”

Since she found out about us, Ingrid hasn’t stopped teasing Lucy. If I understood correctly, she has been teasing her since we first met. It seems like I’ve been tormenting Lucy for much longer than I thought. Now, Ingrid brags about being right and that it was about time she opened her eyes. I gently take Lucy’s hand. My gestures are still very timid, but she does everything to make me comfortable. Not only is this the first time I’ve accepted being seen in public as a couple, but it’s also so strange. This is Lucy we’re talking about—the woman who caught my eye on day one and whom I thought was unattainable. If you’d told me a few months ago that we’d be where we are now, I never would have believed it. Plus, since Feli, I’ve had a big problem with commitment, and since Lucy is my first relationship since her, she’s bearing the brunt of it. I’m lucky that she’s very understanding. She lets me go at my own pace. I’m almost glad we’re still in school because we can’t behave like a couple there. It will give me time to get used to our new relationship. The only problem is that now it’s the weekend, which means we’ll be far from school. I’m a bit anxious about how it will go. Lucy looks at me curiously, reminding me of her earlier question, which makes me smile suddenly.

“Her name’s Shay,” I finally reply. “We became friends the day I came back to Manchester in a bad state. She took care of me and gave me a sleeping pill to help me rest.”

“Oh,” she relaxes, starting to play with my fingers. “I hope you thanked her.”

“Of course,” I giggle.

Lucy has become completely different since we made our relationship official. She’s much more expressive now, and I have to say I appreciate it. I finally know what she’s thinking, especially when it comes to jealousy. Although she doesn’t express it physically, she asks a lot more questions than before. That was the case this morning during our study session when she brought up the topic of Alessia. She noticed that we’ve gotten closer and used our study time as an excuse to find out what we do during those moments and also to gauge how much I like her. I could tell our relationship bothered her, but she didn’t comment on it. I kiss her on the cheek at this thought before letting go of her hand. She slightly frowns at this gesture. We’re about to take off, so I want to prepare for the flight before being limited by the seatbelt later. I take out a pair of earphones and offer them to Lucy, but she doesn’t take them. I sit up to see what she’s doing and realize she’s captivated by Shay, who’s still standing by the doors. She’s quite pretty now that I look at her again. I narrow my eyes and wave my hand in front of Lucy.

“Sorry, were you saying something?”

“No,” I giggle. “I just wanted you to take the earphones.”

“Oh,” she says, taking them.

“Shall we watch a movie?” I suggest. “I’ll fall asleep if we don’t do anything.”

“We can. Unless you’d rather sleep,” she teases.

“Oh no, don’t worry. I can change my habits for you.”

“That’s sweet,” she smiles.

She leans in to peck my lips. This simple, spontaneous gesture fills my stomach with butterflies. Maybe this weekend will be good for us after all. Her role as a responsible person will finally be out of the picture, and we’ll be able to enjoy ourselves. I was starting to stagnate with all the studying she’s made me do since last night. It was far from fun, but I can’t blame her. She wants me to be ready for my upcoming tests before we leave, and I am now. Thanks to her and the tons of exercises she prepared for me, I’m now unshakeable on my management lessons. It was excessive, but at least I’m free for the weekend. I reach into my bag to pull out my laptop. It gets stuck, prompting me to lean over to unjam it.

“Nice butt, Batlle,” comments Ingrid.

I was about to reply, but a throat clearing interrupts me. I notice Shay when I glance over at Lucy. She’s looking at me with amusement.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you need to buckle up. We’re about to take off.”

I notice the seatbelt sign flashing above my head. It seems like she always has to remind me.

“Oops. I’ll do it right now.”

I grab the seatbelt and fasten it right away… Well, actually, Lucy does it for me when she sees how I was struggling. A small click assures me it’s properly secured. I double-check to make sure the light isn’t flashing anymore, and it’s not.

“Still as talented as ever.”

“Well, you have to be good for something.”

“Hey!”

“You know I’m joking,” I giggle before turning back to Shay. “We didn’t get to chat earlier. How are you, Shay? We can speak casually, right? We seem to be about the same age.”

“Yes, I think we can,” she smiles. “Unfortunately, I can’t stay long. I have to finish my round and then head back to my station. My supervisor would come down on me otherwise.”

“Oh, well, I won’t keep you any longer then.”

"Thank you. Have a good flight," she says as she continues on her way. "Oh, and lots of happiness to you both."

I don't have time to thank her before she's already off to check on the other passengers. Lucy's hand gently slides onto my thigh.

"She's nice," she comments.

"Did you see? She's cool, right?"

"Mmhmm."

I finally manage to get my laptop out of my bag. Lucy removes her hand so I can place it on my lap.

"Do you want to watch with us, Ingrid?" I offer.

"No, I think I'll take a nap instead. But thanks for asking."

"Too bad for you."

The intercom finally announces our takeoff. I plug in my hard drive while my laptop boots up. Meanwhile, Ingrid disconnects from the world with her headphones and the view outside. The plane begins to tremble slightly, a sign that we’re finally taking off. I glance at Lucy, who suddenly seems tense.

"Are you afraid of flying?"

"A little," she admits.

I smile as I notice her grip tighten on the armrest. I didn't know about this fear. I didn't even think she could be afraid of anything. I gently take her hand so she can hold mine instead.

"Hey, look at me."

"Sorry... It's just the takeoff that always gets to me."

Goodness, she's adorable when she blushes. For once, it's not me. I reach for her neck to kiss her. My gesture seems to have its effect, as her muscles relax, and her grip on my hand loosens slightly.

"Don't apologize. It's okay to have fears. You should have just told me."

"I should have, yes. I'm sorry."

She rests her head on my shoulder, gently rubbing her nose against my neck. It's rare for me to be the pillow, but I love this role too. I hand Lucy an earbud after plugging it in. The plane has gone quiet, which will allow us to enjoy the movies in peace. I'm not sure I'll make it through the whole film, but I don't dare move now that Lucy seems to have found her comfortable spot against me.

"We can continue Harry Potter if you want," she suggests as I scroll through my movies.

"Really?"

"Of course. You wanted to see them anyway."

"Cool. Thanks."

I quickly find where we left off last time and start it in full-screen mode.

"Can you sit up for a moment, please?"

"Are you kicking me out?"

"Of course not," I chuckle. "I just want to get comfortable."

She sits up with a groan, giving me the chance to settle into my seat. A sigh of relief escapes her lips when she finds her position against me again. I finally relax too. Just a few more hours and we'll be home.

Friday, February 5th; 11:05 PM - Barcelona Airport.

Getting off the plane is always difficult. Even more so today because of the position we were in with Lucy. Unsurprisingly, we fell asleep along the way. My limbs are seriously stiff now. I can't be the only one, given how Lucy stretches. We wave goodbye to Shay, with whom I managed to have a brief conversation before landing, and then we head down the hallway leading to the airport. Lucy takes the initiative to hold my hand. Unlike us, still struggling to wake up, Ingrid is full of energy and makes it known with her good mood.

"Who's picking us up again?" she asks me.

"Hector, my driver."

"Driver, as in personal driver?"

"Uh... Yeah, you could say that."

"Seriously?" she laughs.

"Hey! Don’t make fun. Hector's super cool, too!"

"You really do get chauffeured everywhere by everyone."

She's not wrong, even if she's joking. Buying a car will be one of my priorities once I leave school. I'll become much more independent. There are advantages to being driven, especially for nights out, but otherwise, it's much better to get around on your own. Speaking of Hector, I smile as we reach the end of the hallway and spot him in the distance.

"Is that him?" Lucy asks, looking around.

"Yeah. Come on!" I say, pulling Lucy along with me.

"Take it easy, we have time now," grumbles Ingrid, struggling to keep up.

My impatience makes me walk quickly. I'm eager to see everyone again. Sam immediately texted me when he heard I was coming back, thanks to my mom. He was so excited that he took charge of organizing everything with Sophia. He didn't seem to know I was bringing company. At least, he didn’t mention it. He'll probably tease me when he finds out about Lucy and me. I've told him countless times that I wasn't ready for a relationship, especially not in Manchester. And now I've done the complete opposite. As we reach Hector, I let go of Lucy's hand to hug him. My embrace seems to surprise him, and it’s no wonder. We're both far from being touchy people, but he responds without question. I've missed them all so much. After all, I haven't seen anyone since Christmas.

"Hey. It's good to see you again. Let me introduce you to Lucy and Ingrid, friends of mine," I say, introducing them.

"Friends, huh," he smiles knowingly, making me blush. "Hello, ladies. It's nice to meet you."

Lucy isn't one to hide, so I tend to forget myself around her. She chuckles and takes my hand again, likely confirming my chauffeur's suspicions.

"Hello. Thank you for picking us up," she says.

"No problem. It's my job, after all," he smiles.

"Did Mom spill the beans?" I ask.

"And then some," he laughs. "Samuel had to push a bit when he found out you were bringing company, but she told him everything."

I'm surprised. Not that Sam insisted, but that my mom talked about it. What's even weirder is that Sam didn't mention anything this morning when we spoke on the phone, even though he knew. I have a feeling I'm in for some teasing later.

"I see..."

"I've never flown before, but shouldn't we grab our bags?" Ingrid interrupts.

I laugh and nod. I was right again. She seemed too amazed for someone who's flown before. Her comment gets us moving toward the baggage carousel. Once we've collected our belongings, we head outside to meet Hector's service car. I sit in the front since neither of the girls wanted the seat. The ride is peaceful. Hector, usually so quiet, surprises me by chatting with my instructors to get to know them. Thanks to that, the trip feels shorter. Upon arrival, I chuckle at Ingrid's exaggerated comments about the sight of my house. Well, it is true that it's luxurious and very impressive from the outside. She won't be disappointed with the interior... Hector drives the car into the property after the gate and garage doors open via the remote controls.

"What kind of world do you actually live in?"

"A miserable one," I murmur.

"I doubt that, given where we are," she retorts.

"Believe me, if there's one thing I've learned in life, it's that money isn't everything."

If I had the choice back then, I would have much preferred to live with my dad. He earned less money since my mom is a renowned surgeon and her boyfriend has a good position in the Police, but at least I would have had his love. His death left me feeling empty, which led to my downward spiral. It's not something I would have experienced with my mom. Besides receiving regular transfers, our relationship is unbearable. To think that she even blocked my access when I left home. At least now I manage it again. To be honest, I've never really taken advantage of it. The only times I've used it were for my outings, and now I also use it for my plane tickets. Everything else, I've saved, and I'm glad I did. I've always wanted to leave home early, and I'm closer than ever to that goal given the future that awaits me. We finally get out of the car, and Hector helps us with our bags. We thank him and wish him goodnight before heading inside my house. I tell the girls to be quiet since I'm not sure if Joan is already asleep. I lead the way into my entrance hall, gently rolling my suitcase on the floor. I quickly press the light switch to prevent the girls from bumping into any furniture in the dark.

- Ona!  

I barely have time to turn towards the living room doorway before a little bundle literally jumps into my arms. Looks like we didn’t need to be discreet after all. I hoist him onto my hip, letting him cuddle me as much as he wants.

- Hey, what are you still doing up? I thought you’d be in bed.  

- You should know him by now. He was determined to wait up for you.

My smile widens as I see Sophia standing beside her. I kiss Joan on the head, then move towards Sophia to hug her, ignoring my brother’s complaints between us.

- I missed you guys.  

- We missed you too. And who are these lovely girls with you?  

- This is Lucy and Ingrid. They’re spending the weekend with us.

- Nice to meet you both. It’s great to finally put faces to your names.  

- Are you going to say hi? I whispered to Joan, who was curiously watching them.

He blushed and shook his head, then buried herself into my neck. I rolled my eyes playfully as I moved closer to the girls, which made Joan press even more against me. He’s always been shy around new people, but it seems even worse now.

- Oh come on, Joan. They’re really nice.  

He shook his head again, making Lucy laugh, which in turn brought a smile to my face. I love hearing that sound and seeing her dimples.

- Leave him be. He’ll say hi when he’s more comfortable.  

- I didn’t know you were good with kids.  

- My brother is a special case, I replied to Ingrid, kissing the top of Joan’s head.

I turned to Sophia, who had a blissful smile on her face. It was surprising to see her still here. Normally, she goes home on weekends since my mom and Marcus are either around or take turns. I’m glad we came just for this. I would’ve been annoyed if she had to stay just for us.

- When did my mom and Marcus leave?  

- This afternoon.  

- Oh, you could’ve left and let Hector take care of Joan. He could’ve taken him to the airport.  

- I didn’t want to bother him, and besides, it gave me a chance to see you too.  

- You’re so sweet. How are you?  

- I’m good. And how about you? I’ve never seen your mom so happy since she came back from Manchester. She hasn’t stopped talking about the great day she spent with you... I have to admit, I was a bit surprised, she smiled.  

- Oh, um... Yeah, I replied awkwardly, running a hand through my hair. It was nice. Thanks to Lucy, I said, pointing to her.

- So she’s the lucky one? Your mom couldn’t stop talking about her either, she teased. You were so nervous about coming out.  

- Who’s Lucy? Joan finally popped her head out of my neck.

- That’s her, I said, pointing to Lucy again.  

- Is she your girlfriend? Mom talked about her.

Wow, Lucy must’ve really made an impression if my mom mentioned her so much. I chuckled and nodded. Joan looked at Lucy more intently, tightening her grip around my neck. He seemed a little intimidated.

- You’re still going to sleep with me tonight, right? I don’t want you to leave.  

- I’m not going anywhere. As for sleeping together, we’ll see, I said, glancing briefly at Lucy.

I didn’t want to agree without checking with Lucy first. We’re a couple now, and I’m not sure she’d appreciate me imposing my little brother in our bed.

- Of course she’ll sleep with you, Lucy answered my brother. But only if you share her with me a little too!  

Joan relaxed in my arms. He looked at Lucy for a moment, as if judging her, before nodding with a small smile. Lucy must have that special something that makes everyone like her. At least she’s already managed to win over my brother.

- Hey everyone!  

The front door slammed shut as Mapi burst into the room. Sometimes I wonder if this is really my house or hers. My mom had the idea of giving her a key so she could come by whenever she wanted. Now that I think about it, maybe she did that because she knew we were together for a long time back then.

- I know I’m a little late, but I really wanted to finish my project so I could relax this weekend.

She came over to greet us one by one with a kiss on each cheek. She lingered a bit longer with Ingrid, then surprisingly hugged Lucy before moving on to Sophia and finally Joan and me. She hugged me tightly, a gesture we both understood. We missed each other, especially after these last few emotional weeks. She pulled back with a smile.

- I’m glad to see you doing well. A bit battered, but still in good shape, she teased. And you, my little terror! Not even a hello for me? she said to my little brother.

Joan gave her a kiss, but my best friend pretended not to be convinced. She took him from my arms to give him some tickles. Joan burst out laughing, squirming against her, just as ticklish as I am, if not more. I took advantage of their moment to return to Lucy. She welcomed me by placing her hand on my hip to pull me closer.

- Nice house, she murmured. I’m looking forward to seeing your world.  

- We’ll go up soon. But if you want to know the truth, I prefer your apartment, I admitted.

It’s much cozier than this big house. I immediately felt at home the first time she took me there. Maybe she’s my "home." At that thought, I wrapped my arms around her and rested my head on her shoulder, prompting her to wrap her arm around mine.

- You look exhausted.  

- I am.  

- That’s hardly possible. You slept one hours on the plane, little sleepyhead.  

- You did too, remember?  

- I never said I was tired.

I buried my head in her neck, savoring this simple moment. Maybe I’ll actually be able to relax this weekend. I’m starting to think I can.

- Can we go to bed now? I suggested.  

- Great idea, Mapi replied. The little rascal should already be in bed anyway, it’s getting late.  

- I’m not a rascal, Joan grumbled.

Mortified, my little brother hid in Mapi as we all laughed. The sight warmed my heart. Joan is so shy that he rarely gets close to adults, but my best friend is one of the few exceptions. He tends to interact with her the same way she does with me. I hope he’ll accept Lucy in the same way over time. Nothing would make me happier.

You’re right, he’s got sleepy eyes, I finally said.

He's far past her bedtime. Usually, he goes to bed around ten p.m. on weekends, and now it’s already past midnight.

"Are you two sharing a room?" I asked Mapi and Ingrid.

They exchanged a quick glance before Ingrid shrugged. It seems things aren't going so well between them. Lucy was right when she said there would be some tension at the beginning.

"I don't mind... Unless it bothers you?" Mapi asked timidly.

"No. We can sleep together."

"Cool. Can I take any room, Onita?"

"Yes, of course."

"Great, see you in a bit then. Should I put Joan in your room?"

I looked at her, now dozing off in Mapi's arms. It seems the wait wore her out.

"Yes, you can."

We wished them goodnight as the girls disappeared up the stairs. I finally turned to Sophia.

"Thanks for staying to watch her. You should head home now. They must be waiting for you."

"You know everyone must be asleep by now. How are you doing? I didn't want to bring it up in front of Joan, but you're pretty banged up."

"I’ve been through worse," I shrugged. "And I had a good nurse, so I’m okay," I replied, leaning closer to Lucy.

"I see," she smiled. "I’m happy for you... for both of you, actually."

"Thanks, Sophia... Thanks for everything."

"It’s nothing. Your mom asked me to stay available this weekend, so don’t hesitate to call if you need anything," she said.

I nodded, thanking her. I don't like making her come back on weekends, but knowing the girls, we'll probably go out tomorrow night, so the offer is appreciated.

"Goodnight, girls."

"Goodnight," Lucy and I replied in unison.

We waited for her to leave before heading up the stairs with our suitcases. I chuckled as I heard Lucy grumbling behind me. It was far from easy, especially since I forgot to turn on the downstairs light. It must be even harder for her since she can’t see anything. I turned on the light once we reached the top and immediately went to help her. I guided her to my room, where a small lamp was already on. Joan was fast asleep in the middle of my bed. I was surprised to also find Ingrid there. I quickly understood her presence when I heard a noise coming from my closet.

"Ouch!"

"What are you looking for, Maps?" I asked, exasperated, while setting my suitcase down beside the closet.

"Ah, there you are! I can’t find Joan's pajamas," she replied.

"Maybe because they’re in his room?" I suggested.

"I told you so," Ingrid said.

"No, I’m pretty sure you always kept them here," she argued.

"And what do you think his room is for?" I rolled my eyes. "Never mind, I’ll handle it now that I’m here."

"Oh well... I’ll just grab my own pajamas then."

She dove back into my closet. My house is practically her second home, so she has plenty of clothes here. Most of them have been here since our relationship ended. She never bothered to take them back. I groaned as she dropped a pile of clothes at least three times. The girls stifled their laughter behind me. I glanced at the mess she made. She finally managed to pull out a pj set from the now-disheveled pile.

"Got it!" she announced, returning to us. "Sorry for the mess and, uh... the chaos," she grimaced, looking back. "You don’t mind cleaning it up, do you?"

"Get out before I change my mind."

"Thanks," she said nervously.

"Don’t forget your toothbrush," I teased.

"Oh yeah! I’ll be right back."

I held back a laugh as she almost ran to my bathroom. I looked at Lucy, who seemed just as amused. We were probably thinking the same thing. Mapi reappeared with her toothbrush and a tube of makeup remover.

"Well, goodnight, girls."

"Goodnight."

As soon as the door closed behind Ingrid and Mapi, we burst out laughing.

"Oh my God! I’ve never seen her like that before."

She was so stressed; it’s not like her. I wonder why. Ingrid has proven to me many times that she’s not a difficult person. She’s very kind and even supported my relationship with Lucy before it even began.

"I don’t know how Ingrid will manage to stay so calm. Mapi’s definitely going to drive her crazy."

"You think so? Poor thing."

"Yeah," she smiled. "But don’t worry, Ingrid will know how to handle her. Still, I’m a little jealous of Mapi."

"Oh yeah? Why’s that?"

"How come she has so many things in your room?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, that," I grimaced. "Well, she practically lived here when I came back, so she kind of took over my room. Let’s just say she doesn’t get along with her parents, so my house has always been her refuge. But she has an apartment now, so she could take them back."

"Relax," she laughed. "I wasn’t asking for that. It was just a question."

"Sorry," I replied, embarrassed.

"Can I take a look around?" she changed the subject.

"Of course, go ahead."

With a smile on her lips and a curious look, she began exploring my room. It’s quite large and divided into three areas. There’s my closet on the left, my bed in the middle, and a small sitting area on the right. I call it that because there’s a small sofa and a little table in front of my TV, which is mounted on the wall. The colors are neutral, with my personal touch all around. I painted the walls back in the day. My mom’s reaction was priceless the first time she saw it.

"It’s beautiful," she murmured.

"I had my teenage rebellion a bit late."

She chuckled as she approached the wall where the entrance door is. A massive forest is painted across the entire length. I’ve always loved nature. She looked up at the ceiling, where I had painted different shades of blue and purple with small white spots for the stars. My room is really like my sanctuary, my private domain. Few people have had the chance to see it.

"You did a great job. The result is stunning. You love nature?" she asked, making me nod. "Maybe we could go hiking or camping one day."

"Why not," I replied, smiling at the thought.

The bubble that had formed between us was suddenly burst by a noise at the door, followed by it opening to reveal Mapi. She looked even more stressed than before.

"Sorry to bother you again. I-I forgot the cotton pads."

"There are some in the drawers of every bathroom, Mapi," I said, raising an eyebrow.

She groans in frustration and then sighs, running a hand over her face. She really seems at her wit's end.

"Relax, Mapi."

"I’d like to see you try! You were in my shoes not too long ago, remember? Seriously, girls, I don’t know what to do. She’s so cold towards me. It feels like she hates me. What should I do?"

"Maybe it's because she does hate you," Lucy murmurs.

"But why!? I haven’t done anything wrong!"

"You're avoiding your relationship. It’s as simple as that. Ingrid doesn’t like being kept waiting. Own up to your feelings, and maybe she’ll change her behavior."

"I was just trying to do things right," Mapi sighs. "I wasn’t avoiding her… I couldn’t exactly start our relationship long-distance!"

"Really?" Lucy challenges. "I think you’re just being a coward. Do I need to remind you that Ingrid is my best friend? If you hurt her, you’ll have serious problems with me, no matter how much you supported me with Ona."

I had never seen Lucy so serious about Ingrid before. I knew they were close, but I never realized how deep their bond went.

"T-That’s the last thing I want... I’m just trying to handle this situation and do things right, I promise."

"You’re not handling anything right now. It’s easy to send sweet messages and then run away. If you want to prove that you’re ready to move forward, then own up to your words and kiss her."

I bite my lip, seeing Mapi's state. She clearly wasn’t expecting Lucy to react this way. Neither was I, honestly. It’s rare for her to swear or lose her temper. It’s almost... sexy. Mapi can only manage a nod.

"Th-Thanks. Good night."

She leaves as quickly as she came. She’s probably even more shaken up after what Lucy just said.

"Don’t you think you went a little hard on her?" I giggle.

"She just needed a push. Trust me, she needed it," she says, making me laugh.

She pulls me close when I start to move toward her, placing her hands on my cheeks. I close my eyes to enjoy the soft caress of her thumbs. She takes advantage of my slightly parted lips to kiss me tenderly. The kiss deepens quickly as her hand slides up to my neck under my hair. Her touch and the way her tongue meets mine make me feel breathless, like I’m losing my footing.

"Ona?" Joan whimpers.

I jump, accidentally biting Lucy’s tongue in the process. She groans in pain, pulling back. I bite my lip now, seeing her bring her hand to her mouth.

"Damn, Luce ! Are you okay?!"

"It hurtsh," she lisps.

Under different circumstances, I might have laughed, but right now, it’s just embarrassing. Her lisp is kind of cute, though, making me stifle a laugh.

"I’m sorry, Luce... Let me see."

This time, I can’t hold back my laughter when she actually sticks out her tongue to show me.

"Stop laughing! It'sh not funny!"

"Sorry. Please, show me again."

"No, you'll laugh again."

"Ona," Joan calls again.

"I’m coming, Joan."

"Take care of him. Can I use your bathroom?"

"Of course, you don’t have to ask. Make yourself at home. I’ll grab Joan’s pajamas from his room and be right back."

I kiss her cheek and go to get Joan’s pajamas and toothbrush. At least, that was the plan until I couldn’t find the toothbrush anywhere in the bathroom. Giving up on the search, I head back to my room. I stop at the door when I see Lucy sitting on the edge of my bed, deep in conversation with my little brother. It’s such an adorable scene that I hesitate to interrupt. But then Lucy notices me. She smiles warmly and motions for me to join them by holding out her hand. I walk over to find Joan wide awake. He was fast asleep just fifteen minutes ago. I hope he’ll fall asleep quickly again.

"Everything okay?" I ask.

"Yeah, we were just talking," Lucy answers, wrapping her arm around me.

"Cool... Hey, Joan, where’s your toothbrush?"

He timidly points to my bathroom. I really did search for it for nothing.

"Go brush your teeth."

"But—"

"No buts. Go on!"

It’s always a battle over this, but I’m glad he doesn’t put up much of a fight tonight. He trudges off to my bathroom, dragging his feet.

"He’s a lot like you," Lucy teases, laughing.

"Hey!" I say, playfully hitting her.

She laughs, pulling me between her legs. I instinctively place my hands on her shoulders to keep from falling on her.

"How’s your tongue?"

"It’s better. I brushed my teeth to ease the pain."

"I’m really sorry. That was so embarrassing," I say, blushing.

"It’s okay," she laughs. "It’s not your fault. These things happen," she says, resting her head on my chest.

She sighs, hugging me tightly. She must be as tired as I am. I smile, seeing her so peaceful against me.

"I’m glad you came back home with me..."

"Me too."

"You make me feel at ease wherever you are."

She lifts her head to smile at me tenderly.

"We’re going to do things right. I promise."

I nod eagerly. I know we will. As long as she’s by my side, I feel invincible.

"I’m looking forward to tomorrow. You’ll finally meet Samuel. I’m sure you’ll like him."

"I’m sure I will."

"Ona?" Joan interrupts us.

I reluctantly pull away from Lucy to see my little brother standing timidly in the bathroom doorway. I go to him and pick him up. Meanwhile, Lucy has gotten up to grab her things from her suitcase. I quickly change Joan so he can get under the covers. I ask him to choose a side instead of settling in the middle as he does when we sleep with Mapi. Joan listens without fuss. Since Lucy isn’t done yet, I decide to change in the room to save time, picking out a long t-shirt and shorts from my closet.

"I really like your new girlfriend," Joan tells me. "She's really nice."

"Really? I'm glad to hear that."

I sit on the bed to take off my shoes and socks, listening to my brother talk about Lucy. Apparently, they introduced themselves and had a little chat. I'm really happy that Lucy took the first step. It means a lot to me. I take off my pants and replace them with shorts, folding the pants neatly afterward. I've always made sure to keep my room tidy without my mom having to tell me. I finish by taking off my top, and of course, that's when Lucy comes out of the bathroom. She pauses for a moment, finding me in my bra. I quickly cover myself with my pajama top, which makes her smile.

"I've seen you in worse situations than this, you know."

"That was different," I mumble. "I'm going to brush my teeth, I'll be right back."

"Aren't you going to take a shower?"

I shiver as her fingers brush against my bare hip when I pass by her. I'm sure she did it on purpose. I clutch my t-shirt a little tighter in front of me.

"Tomorrow morning… I'm too tired now," I manage to say.

"Alright, hurry up then. I'll be waiting."

I leave her space and lock myself in the bathroom, taking a deep breath. If she wanted to kill me, she almost succeeded. I quickly change, remove my makeup, and brush my teeth. I fix my hair in the mirror and catch my breath. I smile at myself in the mirror to gather some courage, but I quickly lose it when I see how ridiculous I look. I suddenly understand Mapi's nervousness, even though our situations are different. I give myself a little pep talk before leaving the bathroom. The first thing I see is Joan, peacefully asleep again. Lucy is lying on the opposite side, tapping on her phone. I slip into bed between the two of them, relieved that the bed is big enough to comfortably fit all three of us. I wouldn't have allowed Joan to stay if we were cramped like sardines. I observe Lucy, who smiles at me. I barely have time to notice she was on Instagram before she closes the app and locks her phone. She sets it on the nightstand and lies down to face me. She slides her hand under the pillow to touch mine. Her smile widens softly as her other hand reaches for my face to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Is everything okay?" she murmurs.

"Why wouldn't it be…? Do you think I'm not okay?"

She laughs softly, running her hand along my back, pulling me closer.

"No. I just think you're stressed and distracted. Are you trying to compete with Mapi?"

I blush, lowering my head. She kisses my forehead. Why am I feeling this way? It's just Lucy in front of me, the one who knows everything about me and who helped me open up to the world again in just four months.

"I'm sorry…"

"Was it my gesture that bothered you?"

She moves her hand to my hip, her eyes following the movement under the blanket. I was about to speak, but she interrupts me.

"You know," she begins, "I know it's hard for you to let yourself go with me."

"That's not it," I interrupt her.

I take a deep breath before lifting my head to face her. My heart aches when I see the look on her face. It can't be easy for her to be in a relationship with someone like me.

"I'm sorry you're bearing the brunt of my psycho ex. You're not the problem; you're the solution, I promise. Just give me some time to adjust to all this… It's hard to open up in a relationship, especially with you. You can read me better than anyone, and it's kind of unsettling."

She chuckles softly, continuing to stroke my hip. I force myself to stay calm to prove my point.

"Are you sure about that? That's not the impression you're giving me. Since we made our relationship official, you tense up at the slightest touch. It wasn't like that before."

"That's because our relationship has evolved, and I don't know what you expect from me. I don't really know how to explain it…" I murmur.

"Hey," she says, lifting my chin with her fingers. "I don't expect anything specific. I just want us to regain the connection we had before. The rest will come naturally, without forcing things."

I sigh in relief, nodding. Why was I so worried? Lucy is perfect with me. I should have talked to her about it right away. She always has the right words to reassure me.

"The only thing I ask is that you don't push me away," she continues. "I'm here for you, and I want to help you as best as I can."

"I would never make that mistake, Lucy… I know you're the only one I need. One day, you'll know everything… if you want to, of course."

"I do. Everything about you interests me," she says before kissing my forehead. "Don't hesitate to talk to me if you ever feel like it."

Once again, I nod as I snuggle closer to her. Her arms automatically tighten around me. They make me feel like I have a shield protecting me from everything around us. Some time passes before she breaks the silence with a throat clearing.

"And, um… I don't know if this needs to be said, but you know I would never raise a hand against you, right?"

"Of course," I reply with a smile hidden from her eyes. "I trust you more than anyone, Luce."

She sighs heavily, letting the air brush through my hair. She kisses the top of my head again, holding me even closer.

"Good," she murmurs. "All I care about is that you find peace within yourself."

I close my eyes, seeking as much contact with her as possible. I want to feel normal again, too. My fears and nightmares are starting to weigh on me more and more, but I have no doubt that everything will be resolved in the coming months. I'm not alone anymore. A smile crosses my face when she starts exploring my hip again with a gentle touch. If I don't think about anything, I can finally enjoy it.

"I'll get there with you by my side… I promise. But… don't take this the wrong way, but I was dreading this weekend…" I admit. "I was afraid you'd expect too much from me."

A genuine laugh escapes her lips, though she softens it, given our surroundings. I almost forget about my sister, who is peacefully sleeping behind my back.

"You idiot. Did you really think I was going to jump on you or something?"

Now that she says it like that, I feel really ridiculous for having thought such a thing. She pulls away from me, forcing me to look at her. Embarrassment washes over me when I see her teasing smile.

"S-sorry," I stammer.

"Ridiculous," she gently teases me again. "We have all the time in the world for that kind of thing; you don't have to worry about it."

"You're right, sorry," I say, my cheeks still flushed. "It's just that I don't want to deprive you either."

"You're not depriving me of anything. Having you close to me is all that matters. You don't have to worry about that. I'll make you enjoy all this again, and most importantly, I'll always keep you safe."

"I already feel safe, Luce. Why do you think I slept so well when we first started sleeping together…?"

"I messed things up more than I thought… Your nightmares have come back, haven't they?"

"You didn't mess anything up. We wouldn't be here otherwise. Stop blaming yourself for something I've already forgiven you for. And yes, my nightmares have come back, but it will get better. All we need to do now is move forward."

"You're right. We'll take it slow. We've already overcome so much, so we'll manage to live as a couple, I promise you."

I nod, completely agreeing with that.

"Okay, it's time to sleep now…"

She turns for a moment to turn off the light and then pulls me back into her arms. I find my position easily, without feeling any discomfort. I close my eyes, desperately clinging to her t-shirt. This conversation has done me good. I know everything will be okay now. She doesn't realize how much I need her. I slip my leg between hers to get as close as possible.

"Can I?" she asks, slowly sliding her hand under my tank top to touch the bare skin of my back.

I smile and nod. I enjoy her touch. She's probably the only person I allow to do so much, even if she doesn't realize it yet. I've been waiting so long for this moment when she'd finally lower her barriers too, and it's finally happening. Her warm hand returns to caress my spine with the tips of her fingers. I lift my head to try and find her lips in the dark.

"Goodnight, my love," she murmurs against my lips.

That nickname makes my stomach flutter. It throws me off so much that all I can manage is a mumbled goodnight into her chest before falling asleep peacefully.

[acesartemis]

yearning (g, Eddie pov, buddietommy)

my take on a queer/asexual/questioning eddie

“Eddie, I want you to do a little research” —

Eddie bit his lip to contain his groan at the word ‘research’. He had come to have the kneejerk reaction to it due to Buck’s insistent need to research everything. It was endearing, don't get him wrong, but he could easily get tired of the yapping.

—“on the orientation of Asexuality,” Frank suggested close to the end of Eddie’s therapy session. “Maybe its romantic counterpart of aromanticism, too, wouldn’t hurt. Whom you are attracted to does not garner the same amount of distress in you as much as the how.  I think the asexual spectrum may be of comfort to you, considering what we’ve discussed previously of your views towards sex and dating feeling like you have to perform in those situations.

“Unfortunately, I cannot—and I would not—tell you what you should identify as, but I feel like, even if you’re not asexual, learning that it is a possibility may help you feel more settled. Furthermore, it may open the door to more exploration if you so choose. Once you have a baseline of information, we can discuss further, if needed, at the next session. ‘Sound good?”

At Eddie’s overwhelmed look, Frank gave a tiny chuckle. “Here, I’ll write it down so it's easier to remember for you.” 

Eddie took the paper from the therapist and gave him a hearty handshake. “I will. Thanks again, man.”

—♠—

The paper sat on his bedside table for three and a half days until a restless and hot night after a whirlwind of saving people from themselves and other members of humanity left Eddie unable to get comfortable enough to sleep.

With a sigh, Eddie reached for the paper, illuminated red by his alarm clock, and his phone. Might as well do some reading at 3:37 in the morning.

“Asexuality,” Google read, “is the lack of sexual attraction to others, or the low or absent interest in or desire for sexual activity.”

Well, what a loaded definition.

Eddie’s head thunked against his headboard, dropping his phone to his chest as he stared at the ceiling. Yes, he’s described dating and sex as feeling like a performance. With Shannon, it was his first real relationship, them being so young. The Church and his culture told him to be a man he needed to find himself a good woman and only bed her after they were married. That was fine with him. But the act itself felt gross that first night. The noises, the sweat, the skin to skin contact, and the dirty talk always felt so awkward to him. And he hated the anxiety of making sure she felt good, that she was always satisfied. Eddie could stick his gloved hands in bloodied flesh all day long, but the thought of reaching into a woman just to find a bunch of nerves—no.

Then Shannon got pregnant, their marital-duty fulfilled, and Eddie found his out in the military where he went years without having sex, and truthfully didn't think much of it at all.

But touching he missed. And kissing. He could never get enough. The closeness, the intimacy, the soft caresses, the security of having someone or being in someone’s arms… His soul craved for it when he was gone. 

Hmm, maybe the doc was on to something.

But what really caught his attention was queerplatonic relationships: a type of relationship, most commonly non-romantic, where there is an intense emotional connection that goes beyond a traditional friendship.

Well, damn, that was him and Buck to a tee. Buck, whose attention he sought out, whose comfort he craved (even more so than Shannon, truly), who had wormed his way into the fabric of Eddie’s life to the point that he felt secure in leaving Christopher to in the event of his death.

And Buck, whom Christopher had attached himself to like a leech moreso than any other partner Eddie has had.

But was what he felt for Buck considered romantic? True, Eddie had craved to press his lips against Buck’s after the tsunami, and the lightning, but was that inherently romantic? Who could say. For right now though, queerplatonic partners had a nice ring to it. He would ask Frank at their next session.

—♠—

Then Tommy flew into the picture and Buck was suddenly bisexual and what Eddie had wanted to label their relationship all went up in smoke.

“What Buck feels does not negate what you do.” Frank’s advice rolled around his head for days. “And you don't know what he truly feels until you ask.”

Eddie truly couldn't blame the guy. Eddie wasn't sure what his attraction level was yet, having settled on calling himself merely queer for now and quite possibly never having a specific answer was quite alright with him, but he had to admit that Tommy was an Adonis of a guy. The envy of straight and queer men alike, for their respective reasons. And Tommy was the epitome of cool. Flying his new friends to Vegas in a helicopter? Strong, intelligent, and witty? He understood the baggage Eddie carried of misogyny and the military. His arms were big enough to envelop anyone, making them feel absolutely safe and secure.

Eddie hadn't felt that way with another person since Buck.

Oh, shit.

—♠—

During a frantic phone call during a break in the activity of Eddie's work day, Frank said, “Eddie, yes, it is okay to feel like this with more than one person. You’re friends with more than one person, right? And we all have different needs that can't always be met by the same person.”

—♠—

Eddie’s stomach was in knots. He made uncharacteristic mistakes on calls to the point where Hen decided to body-check him out of the way while looking after a patient and it was obvious Buck noticed. Of course Buck noticed. And Tommy too, as Eddie fiddled with his wine glass the next time the trio had gathered at Tommy’s to watch a fight on ESPN.

“Spill it,” Tommy softly demanded, reaching over to rescue the fragile glass from his fingers.

“Yeah, you’ve been off," Buck agreed. His lips turned down in a worried frown. "Is it us? We have both been extra careful not to make you uncomfortable—”

Eddie groaned. “Buck, no. It definitely is not you guys. Well, it is, but not the way you’re thinking.”

“You can tell us anything, you know. This is all a whirlwind to us too,” Tommy assured and Eddie just yearned.

That's what it was. It all finally clicked in his brain. Eddie was yearning. He already had Buck and knew he always would, but he yearned for more. Tommy made Buck so happy in a way Eddie could not. And while that didn't truly matter to him, he was developing the feeling of being the outsider looking in.

“Eddie?” Buck urged so carefully, so softly, like he was terrified.

“I want—” Eddie breathed, clearing the lump of anticipation and anxiety from his throat. “I yearn for… both of you. I… relish in your hugs and touches, and I want… more. I’ve been talking to Frank and I know I'm not bisexual in the traditional sense, and I might be somewhere on the asexual spectrum but I don't care. I just know deep in my bones that I want you. Both of you, in my life forever. To talk to, to cry and laugh with, to take care of my son with. To have and to hold and to kiss… but nothing sexual.”

“So like we’re already doing, but with more of this?” 

Eddie’s breath hitched as Tommy’s warm hand encircled his wrist. He gave a small tug and Eddie complied eagerly as the man wrapped his arms around him and tucked Eddie against his chest. His breath tickled his ear as he pressed chapped lips to his temple.

Eddie’s heart felt like it were to explode.

A small whine fell from Buck’s lips. “Don't leave me out!”

Eddie chuckled as he and Tommy opened opposite arms to make room for Buck, quickly bracketing the man into their shared embrace. “Aw yes. Lifetime achievement unlocked!”

“You’re a dork, Buck.”

“But you love it.”

“So this is good?” Tommy asked, locking eyes with Eddie and giving a soft but pointed look. Buck would roll with anything, they both knew, but Tommy had the experience to know he needed to step lightly with this. 

“Yes, it and you.” Eddie aimed to brush a kiss to Buck’s cheek but was surprised to find Buck's lips instead, the attacker giggling as they separated. Eddie then turned his head to kiss the underside of Tommy’s jaw, ensuring the older man didn’t feel left out either.

Eddie gave him a firm nod, and delighted when Tommy brushed their lips together for the first time. The kiss was feather light but it made Eddie see stars anyway.

Eddie didn't care what he was. He loved Buck and Tommy and they loved him back and that's all that mattered to him.

[reasonsforhope]

"While mainstream media increasingly cover violence and legislative attacks against trans people, many scholars and activists worry that focusing just on violence and discrimination fails to capture the full experience of being trans.

Drawing on the success of movements like the Black Joy Project, which uses art to promote Black healing and community-building, trans activists are challenging one-dimensional depictions of their community by highlighting the unique joys of being transgender.

My research on trans parents affirms the reality of trans joy. From 2019 to 2021, I interviewed 54 transgender women — both current and prospective parents — from diverse racial and class backgrounds across the country.

I found that while many have navigated discrimination in their parenting journeys, they also have fulfilling parent-child relationships, often with the support of partners, families of origin and their communities.

Gender euphoria

Scholars and community members use the term gender euphoria to describe a “joyful feeling of rightness in one’s gender/sex.”

It diverges from the diagnosis of gender dysphoria, or a sense of conflict between assigned sex and gender identity typically associated with feelings of distress and discomfort.

Gender euphoria celebrates feeling comfortable with who you are and how you are perceived by the world.

Some people transition with a specific set of goals, while others discover new sources of joy and new facets of their identity over time.

Many of the trans women I interviewed expressed their gender euphoria in relation to their role as mothers. A Black trans woman in her 20s, whom I will call Gloria, experiences joy in being recognized as a mother.

“I love being called Mom. That’s the greatest thing,” she told me. “I love waking up every morning to see [my child’s] beautiful face. It keeps me motivated.” ...

For many trans people, transitioning opens up a new set of possibilities. When I asked Adriana, a trans Latina in her 30s, what it was like to come out as trans, she told me,

“I’ve never been happier. The happiest day of my life was when my daughter was born, and the second happiest day of my life was when I [started transitioning].”

Family and community connections

While some trans people do experience rejection from their families of origin, that is not true for the majority of the community.

In a 2015 national survey of over 27,700 trans adults, the U.S. Trans Survey, 60% of respondents reported having families who are supportive of their trans identity.

Trans women also form chosen families with friends, co-workers and other community members. Relationships with other trans people can have particularly positive effects on identity development and overall well-being, including emotional resilience, self-acceptance and a sense of connection.

Trans community care

In addition to caring for their biological and adopted children, the trans women I interviewed felt a responsibility to take care of their community.

Sometimes this care manifested as parent-child relationships, in which respondents provide financial or emotional support to LGBTQ+ youth.

Maggie, a white woman in her 50s, didn’t know she was a parental figure for her “queer kids” until they tagged her on Instagram to celebrate Mother’s Day.

“Someone might go, ‘Hey, can I stay on your sofa tonight? I’m having a hard time.’ Well, yeah, of course,” she said.

“Or they might hang around the shop [I work at], and only later it dawns on me, ‘Oh, this was the only place they could come and get affirmed and not feel weird.’” ...

Miriam, a white trans woman in her 60s, agreed that she has a lot to learn from younger trans people.

“A lot of my community today, people who I count as family and my beloveds, are not of my generation,” she said. ‘Beloveds’ is the term she uses to describe her platonic loved ones.

“I learn a lot from my beloveds in their 20s and 30s, who don’t have the same baggage I [dealt with] about how I could be and who I could be.”"

-via GoodGoodGood via The Conversation, July 14, 2023

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part five)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 4.6k summary: a party from hell.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, mentions of recreational alcohol & drug consumption, emotional hurt / no comfort in this chapter (sorry, she's a little angsty), blackmail, family drama, mentions of minor character death — if i missed anything, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

The venue is filled wall to wall with people, half of whom you have not met before this night. They’re swaying to the loud music, talking over one another, and indulging in various colourful drinks from the open bar.

Sitting on a sofa in the corner of the large space, you’re watching the night unfold in front of your eyes. There’s a drink in your hand, a cranberry vodka, however, you haven’t touched it yet. Instead, the ice has long melted, causing lone droplets of water to drip down your arm.

A harsh scent of alcohol fills the air. It gets stronger every time a party attendee sits next to you, congratulating you on an incredible single with the band they never thought you’d ever play with. You go with the flow, the politeness you’ve been taught from a young age showing its wings, and thank each person that engages with you for coming tonight.

They ask how this all came about, you on a song with Corroded Coffin. A collaboration for the ages. 

You answer honestly, to the best of your knowledge. “The powers that be organised everything”, and the person you’re speaking with laughs at your answer. Then they ask about a topic much hotter than the new record — your relationship with Eddie Munson.

The second the curly-haired rockstar is mentioned, a smile breaches your lips.

“That’s between me and him, for now.”

Which doesn’t stop anyone from trying to invade your privacy further. Wondering, out loud and with no shame, if what they’re reading in the tabloids is true. Is it just for show, or is it real? And then it goes one of two ways:

“Hope I’m invited to the wedding. It’s shaping up to be quite the party.”

“At least you’ll make a lot of money from this arrangement.”

Not one person wishes you well. Not one person says they’re happy for you, or for the Corroded Coffin frontman. It obviously makes you wonder why because you look happy… right? Why is your relationship such a big deal if you’re clearly happy? 

Don’t you look happy?

But then, in between those conversations, your gaze finds Eddie with ease. His own brown eyes land on you every single time, without fail, as if there was some sort of magnetic pull between the two of you. He smiles wide, shooting you a casual wink from wherever he’s standing at the time.

And so, you force the treacherous thoughts deep, deep down. Squish them until they’re miniscule and a problem for later — which in retrospect, not a good idea — ‘cause right this moment in time, you’re definitely happy.

Eddie makes you happy.

You’re also just glad to see the rockstar is having fun, considering how reluctant he was to leave the comfort of his own home. He’s mingling and laughing. A pep in his step as he orders another drink. After all, parties are his element.

“God, my poor fucking feet hurt so much,” Holly sighs, dropping down next to you with an elegant bounce. “I honestly don’t know how you can perform in heels for multiple nights in a row when I can’t even make it through a couple of measly hours.”

You laugh. “No pain, no gain.”

“Okay, Magic Johnson.” Holly snorts while playfully rolling her eyes.

“Actually, I’d prefer to be Patrick Ewing,” you correct her, it’s a tease with a slight dramatic flare, “‘Cause who am I if not a New York Knicks fan.”

The giggle that escapes your friend is infectious. In between the lighthearted chuckles, she does her best not to spill the fruity drink in her hand, pressing the glass to her lips and taking a sip. She relaxes into the sofa, legs now extended outwards, a hazard to anyone walking by.

“Speaking of New York, when are you taking the rockstar to meet your parents?” Holly probes, brow raised.

“Oh god,” you dramatise in response, “That’s like a super serious thing, no? I don’t think we’re there yet.”

But Holly doesn’t give up as easily, seeing right through the front you didn’t even realise you were putting up. As your best friend, she knows you better than anyone. That includes moments like these, when you’re minimising feelings out of fear.

“Babe, be for real. He has already met your grandma and she’s arguably a lot more important than your parents.” Holly states, taking another quick sip of her cocktail. “No offence to Alicia and Brad, but we all know your family is ruled by the little lady who already hates your boyfriend.”

You sigh. She’s obviously right.

“So, what’s the real reason you don’t wanna take him home?”

Glancing over at Eddie, who’s lost in conversation with the producers of your record, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, wondering what to say to her. “Because I’m scared it’s all moving too fast,” would be an appropriate answer to the question, but then again that’s not entirely true.

Holly nudges your arm and you turn your attention back to her immediately.

“I’ve just been really happy in our little bubble these last few months and I’m afraid if we venture further out into the real world, we’ll lose that feeling.”

Raw, honest. It’s a scary thing to say, but Holly doesn’t judge. She never does. Instead, her arm makes way around your shoulders and she squeezes you lightly when your head rests against her skin.

“With the way the two of you look at one another, I bet my sanity that you’ll be together for a very long time.”

And you hope she’s right.

Eddie walks up to where you’re sitting shortly after, politely asking your friend if he could steal a moment alone with you. Holly of course agrees, saying something about finding Jeff ‘cause he looks mighty fine tonight and she’s a little buzzed, “If you know, you know.”. You watch with a smile as she disappears between the dancing bodies while Eddie sits in the now empty spot, casually placing a hand on your thigh.

“Having fun?”

“I am,” you answer and lean in closer to place a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Even more now.”

He smirks at you. “I’m glad, baby.”

“Seems you are too.”

“I am.” Eddie nods, free hand now holding your jaw, as he leans in to capture your lips with his own.

The kiss is short and sweet, but like everything you and the rockstar do, it attracts attention from pretty much everyone in the room. A click of the camera, a flash of light. But neither of you care. Looking instead into each other’s eyes once you pull apart, as if you’re the only people at this party. 

Even though putting a label on things wasn’t entirely necessary, it definitely cemented whatever feelings are floating within your core. And Eddie feels the same way. He actually feels a lot more than he’s willing to admit out loud. Partially because he’s always battled commitment issues, mainly because he’s really afraid of losing you. 

Again.

-

Eddie Munson loved a good party.

This wasn’t always the case, since during his teenage years he was often excluded from every single guest list. Then he started dealing. Suddenly, the metalhead was a hot ticket, and even though people still didn’t care for his company, they liked the stuff he brought. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the attention — as fake as it may have been.

Once Corroded Coffin made it big, and Eddie realised that people actually wanted to party with him for who he was, and not the drugs he had access too, (although, for some, it was a little bit of both), the rockstar decided he was going to throw the best damn parties Hollywood has ever seen.

It quickly became second nature. Make money, then spend it just as fast so other people can have a good time.

When the drinking, and other activities, got a little out of control, the guys tried to talk some sense into their friend with a little tough love: “Dude, those people don’t give a fuck about you! They only wanna hang out with you, ‘cause you’re rich.”. But Eddie was too far gone and he didn’t care to stop. His house was full of people every single weekend, most of whom he knew, and for the first time in his miserable life, the rockstar felt like the most important person on the goddamn planet. There was no way he was letting go of that feeling.

Then August ‘92 happened.

The evening started off as nothing special. Just another pool party to combat the unbearable Los Angeles heat. It was a common occurrence during the summer months, so Eddie didn’t think that night was going to be any different.

Surrounded by a group of girls that undoubtedly only want to get in his pants, he’s laughing at the unfunny jokes and taking advantage of the fact that he doesn’t need to refill his own drinks, the “groupies”, as Marianne calls them, gladly do it for him. 

They’re brushing up against him and flirting with no shame while batting their lashes. Eddie usually eats this shit up. Matter of fact, he should be loving every second of it right now, but his focus has long shifted elsewhere, the girls a mere distraction from the actual object of his attention and desire.

From the corner of his eye, he’s watching you.

Jesus Christ. Eddie can’t believe you came. He can’t believe you’re actually here, at his house, seemingly enjoying yourself. And to say you looked fucking hot would be the understatement of a century. Splayed out on one of the lounge chairs, hiding from the sun, you’re wearing a white cotton blouse and skimpy denim shorts, and Eddie aches for his current conversation to be over so he can go and officially introduce himself to you — like he should have at the Grammys.

“Eds, do you want another drink?”

He barely registers the question, even with the girl who has her hand on his bare bicep, rubbing up and down rather seductively. Instead, the rockstar notices how you stand up and look around the party once, before walking in the direction of his big house. So Eddie thinks that now’s his chance, perhaps the only one he’d get, and following a quick internal monologue to pep himself up, he leaves the group of ladies disappointed, following you inside.

That was almost the last party Eddie threw.

You flipped this switch inside of him, one the rockstar didn’t even know existed. After that night, he no longer wanted attention from just anyone. Taking centre stage in his mind — and heart — was America’s favourite sweetheart. Even when he royally fucked things up, he only thought about you.

Though for a number of lonesome weeks, he wasn’t sure you were thinking about him since his actions proved nothing more than borderline douchey. So Eddie fell back into self-destructive behaviour just as fast as he scrambled out of it. The parties got louder, he became more obnoxious.

September 1992. Saturday Night Live.

That will be a night his band, his management, his friends, and even his fans, will never let Eddie forget. Unfortunately, for all the wrong reasons.

The drinks pre-show were free and Eddie had a mountain of feelings he desperately needed to get over, along with memories he wanted to bury deep, until they were nothing but specs of dust, flashes that didn’t resemble anything — especially not you.

He did his best not to slur his words during the live performance, and for the most part, he succeeded. Although that didn’t really matter since anyone in the rockstar's vicinity could clearly tell he was intoxicated. Eddie, leaning half his weight on the microphone, round sunglasses covering his bloodshot eyes, should have never been allowed to set foot on the stage that night.

Let alone twice.

Under the dim stage light, as they hoped to conclude their last song without a major incident, Eddie’s band mates were exchanging worried glances. The Corroded Coffin frontman had a couple more drinks in between sets and was barely able to follow along with the music.

Thankfully, behind the scenes, Marianne convinced production to shift the cameras away from unravelling Eddie, even switched off his microphone, and the only people left witness to his drunken mess were the folks present physically.

Eddie on the other hand couldn’t have cared less about how he was behaving since the alcohol didn’t numb him like he hoped, instead the thought of you being somewhere in the same city, overpowered his senses. Would it be crazy to hope you were watching? Would it be crazy to think that despite how rudely he treated you, you’d still show up like you both talked about?

Would it be crazy to try and find you? Search New York, high and low, in hopes that someone knows someone, who knows someone else, that knows where you live?

Instead, against his better judgement and everyone else’s rather aggressive protests, Eddie goes to the after party planned in his name.

Unsurprisingly, you didn’t come.

His black out was imminent.

The damages done to the restaurant came to just under five thousand dollars. The stress from keeping it out of the press robbed his team about two years of their life, so Marianne says.

And that was the last party Eddie threw. 

Considering how out of control things had gotten, how out of control he had become at some point during the night while thinking about you with every drink that burned down his throat, it could’ve been a lot worse.

Eddie still only thinks about you. Difference being, now, almost a year later, you are attending a party together, and the alcohol no longer tastes like regret.

When he looks at you, like he is right now, under the fluorescent club lights, his heart increases tenfold. He wants to kiss every inch of your face, hold you close because that’s where you belong. 

Things simply got better because he owned up to his mistakes and learned to open himself up to love, as scary as that feeling is sometimes. He’s not second guessing your intentions, because that would be cruel. He just loses himself in his doubts sometimes, since in the past, no pretty girl has given him the time of day without wanting something in return.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” Eddie whispers against your lips, thumb gently grazing along your cheekbone. He proceeds to tell you how you make life a little more normal, and he’s grateful for it, despite always wanting fame. You tell him how attention is nothing if it doesn’t come from the right person, and he agrees, brown locks bouncing as he nods his head. Then he kisses you again.

And this kiss is arguably a lot more urgent than the last. Eddie is hovering over you entirely. One hand remains holding onto your face, while the other is on your waist, pushing you deeper into the sofa.

You can hear another click of a camera in the distance and despite your better judgement, that voice in the back of your mind, closely reminiscent of your Nana’s, telling you to push your boyfriend away, you slide your hands up his back and cling closer to him.

An inch of regret courses through your veins the following morning when you receive a call from your quite displeased team, “what the hell were you thinking?!”. You deflect. Unwilling for anyone to burst through the happy bubble you’ve found yourself in, you blame them for poor organisation and security ‘cause who even allows cameras to be brought into a private Hollywood event.

That regret is unfortunately also accompanied by a killer hangover and very little memory of what else has happened the night prior.

The empty spot in bed, usually home to a set of wild brown locks, should have been a warning sign ‘cause Eddie never woke up before you, especially after a party. You find him in the kitchen, at the spot where the two of you first met. His head is in his hands and you’re instantly feeling worried.

The happy bubble threatening to burst.

“Hey,” you croak, hoping to get his attention, “are you okay?”

Eddie’s as still as a statue. He doesn’t acknowledge your presence, or your question, and the worry in the pit of your stomach increases tenfold. So you approach him, movements slow due to the banging headache as well as the apprehension given your boyfriend's current position. Only when your hand hesitantly reaches his back, rubbing once downward while you position yourself next to him, Eddie lifts his head and tilts it to the side, finally meeting your eyes.

“Had a good night?” Eddie asks, shifting his stance so that your hand falls down to your side. This should have been a second warning; him trying to avoid physical contact.

“Y-yeah,” you force a smile, thinking that it’s needed, “You?”

“Not really,” he answers a little too quickly.

His brown eyes scan yours, for what exactly, you’re a little too hungover to realise. But the longer he stares at you, the worse you begin to feel. A certain dread spreads through your insides, causing your stomach to drop. What’s happening right now? Actually, what happened in the late hours of last night that’s causing this sudden rift between you and the rockstar.

“What’s going on, Eddie?”

The tone of your voice is so quiet, you’re unsure he’s even heard you. But then a sigh escapes his lips. He briefly glances towards the back door, out towards the pool, before settling his gaze back on your frame.

“I think we made a mistake,” he says a little too bluntly. “I-I don’t think we should have labelled this so soon, and ehm… This is nothing on you, sweetheart. I’m just not the relationship type.”

Dumbfounded, is a little too plain to explain the feeling that you’re experiencing at this very moment. Betrayed would be a better word, but that would mean Eddie is after saying those things. That he’s really after shattering your entire world in the space of a few mere seconds. Betrayed would mean your gut instinct, the one you have ignored ever since you’ve met the Corroded Coffin frontman, was always correct: he was no good.

Used, is how you begin to feel as Eddie continues to list reasons for why he can’t actually be your boyfriend and how you’re better off simply being friends with benefits, or whatever it is the two of you had been over the last few months. Used fuels the anger inside of you because, to you, deceit is worse than cheating. And he seems so nonchalant about it, which only adds to the fire.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Eddie stops mid another lame excuse and for the first time this morning, he reaches for your hands, fingers gently grazing against your skin, which only adds to the pain you’re beginning to endure. 

“Sweetheart…”

“No, no.”

You retreat, unwilling to let the rockstar hold you since he’s after breaking your heart like it was worth nothing — Jesus H. Christ, this is some sick and twisted deja vu.

Instead, you cross your arms across your chest like a shield while taking a step away from the man you realised now you definitely loved, yet one that clearly didn’t love you.

“I-I guess I’m just confused as to what’s changed since last night—”

“I’m not the relationship type,” Eddie cuts in, repeating what he’s already said, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel anything towards you. I like you, sweetheart. A lot.”

“Eddie, come on,” you scoff, tears threatening to breach through the confines of their home, “Do you realise how ridiculous you sound right now? If you feel something towards me, I-I don’t get how being called my boyfriend and being exclusive with me is the worst thing on the planet.”

When he doesn’t immediately reply, you continue.

“Unless that’s it. You don’t want to be exclusive because the thought of keeping your dick in your pants when I’m not around is too difficult, or having other people throw themselves at you and not immediately act on it is something Eddie Munson simply cannot do.”

“That’s not it,” the rockstar interjects.

“Then fucking enlighten me, Eddie, because you’re making no fucking sense right now!”

Again, he doesn’t say anything. And it’s precisely because he’s not showing any willingness to be honest with you right this moment, after endless prior conversations about how that’s the one thing he will always be, you decide for your own sanity that this isn’t a relationship you can fight for.

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

Three words you’ve spoken to him before, only this time they hold a lot more weight. This time, they signal an end to something that was only after getting a proper beginning. The end of America’s favourite popstar and the Corroded Coffin frontman — a headline that broke on Page Six the very next morning.

Eddie watches you leave. Frozen in his spot as you rush back to the bedroom the two of you have shared the last few months. And his heart aches because unbeknown to you, this is not what he wanted to happen.

Unbeknown to you, this is not how he actually feels. He doesn’t want to end things with you so soon after they’ve begun. He wants you. He wants to be your boyfriend, if not more.

He just can’t.

Last night’s party was the main catalyst behind the rockstar’s actions this morning. The attendance of a certain someone that wasn’t actually invited was a shock to Eddie’s drunken system, and the reason behind why he simply can’t tell you anything, especially the truth.

(Not right now anyway.)

-

Chrissy Cunningham.

The preppy blonde was the only person Eddie loved before meeting you. 

Despite not ever being anything more than friends, at least on a physical level, for the longest time, Chrissy was Eddie’s only supporter. The only person to show him kindness and shower him with care he undoubtedly deserved.

Chrissy encouraged Eddie to follow his dreams, pursue a career in music, because out of everyone in Hawkins, she truly believed in his talent.

Then she died.

Suddenly, Eddie was not only left with a hole in his heart, but he also found himself at the centre of a murder investigation. Despite being declared innocent, her death nothing but a freak accident, the scars on the rockstar’s body remind him of the events of March ‘86 to this very day.

He told you a little about what happened, just failed to mention Chrissy. Not for any particular reason, he just doesn’t talk about her as a rule — unwilling to reopen the wounds he so desperately tried to heal over the years.

And because he doesn’t talk about Chrissy, or mention her name and what she meant to him, Eddie never expected her to be brought up.

Especially not a Hollywood party of all places.

Eddie first spotted your grandmother mid-performance of the band’s single with you. She approached him shortly after, when you excused yourself to take some shots with Holly, leaving the frontman alone.

“Even I cannot deny that it’s a good song,” she states simply, as Eddie eyes her suspiciously.

“With all due respect, ma’am, I don’t think you were on the guest list.”

She scoffs. “Just like my lovely granddaughter, I can get myself on every single list I want, and even though I don’t necessarily want to be here, I do have something to tell you.”

Eddie cocks a brow, “Oh yeah?”

“Hawkins is a lovely little town,” she says, not missing a beat. “It’s quaint. Reminds me of a place I spent hiding my pregnancy all those moons ago, but that’s a story for another time. Or not. Depends how well you listen to me right now.”

“What do you want?”

“Does my granddaughter know about Chrissy Cunningham?”

Eddie’s face falls the second Chrissy’s name escapes your grandmothers painted lips, though he doesn’t get a chance to actually reply to the question, because she’s quick to continue with her agenda.

“I suppose not. Your uncle Wayne was really quite open to tell me about her though, about what she meant to you.”

She pauses, tilting her head to one side.

“I am sorry for your loss, Edward.”

Another brief pause.

“Yet I can’t help the curiosity, why didn’t you tell my baby about this girl if she supposedly played such a big part in you pursuing your dreams?”

“Don’t do this—”

“Do what, Edward? I’m just trying to learn more about the boy my naive granddaughter is willing to risk her entire career for. Again, your uncle Wayne was very helpful in this department, considering you practically shunned me from the dinner I organised for this exact reason.”

“Listen—”

“No,” your grandmother interrupts, “We both know you’re not good enough for my sweet angel and this entire Chrissy situation you are trying really hard to hide from everyone, only proves my point,” she snaps and Eddie’s feeling grateful that the place is a little too crowded and a little too noisy for anyone to hear what’s happening at this very moment.

“Edward, if you have nothing to hide, if you’re really innocent and played no part in the poor girl's death, why can’t the world know? Feel free to answer me, I’m just trying to get some insight into who my granddaughter has chosen to date.”

Eddie swallows his breath, unsure of what to say because it’s these types of conversations he’s been trying to avoid by not bringing up Chrissy.

Ever.

He didn’t do anything to the girl he loved. He is one hundred percent innocent, and the courts proved his side of the story. Yet, he’s been ridiculed and questioned left, right, and centre.

Only Max and Wayne know that the final reason as to why he’s decided to leave Hawkins behind for good, was to get away from the rumours and the people that didn’t believe him. And as he rushed to chase his dreams, he swore he’d never bring this up. Swore to never mention Chrissy’s name to anyone, or the fact that she’s been the inspiration behind numerous Corroded Coffin singles.

In a way, it was freeing. In Los Angeles, Chrissy Cunnigham was nothing but a figment of Eddie’s imagination.

Until this very moment.

“I didn’t kill her.”

“I know,” your Nana states, “But it wouldn’t take a lot to make people in Hollywood believe that you did and then your image is ruined, your career starts to decline, and the only other person that’s affected besides you and your bandmates, is the person you claim to feel something for. My granddaughter.”

Eddie’s heart sinks. He glances behind your grandmother’s shoulder to where you’re standing at the bar with Holly, laughing at something your friend has said seconds prior.

He’s happy with you. He’s happy to be known as your boyfriend.

And it’s because of that happiness, he knows he cannot ruin your life by involving you in something that happened before he was even famous.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” the rockstar mumbles in a defeated tone.

“She’s going to hurt either way,” your grandmother says, “But if you end things with her on your own, I promise to keep Chrissy’s name out of the press, so you’re only breaking my granddaughter's heart and not simultaneously ending her career.”

The metalhead hangs his head low, closing his eyes momentarily to try and gather his tipsy thoughts. His lack of rebuttal is enough for your grandmother to claim her victory. She places a hand on the rockstar’s shoulder and squeezes once, faking remorse.

“And Eddie,” she continues, “I wouldn’t tell her about this conversation, and I also wouldn’t be so brave to tell her about Chrissy yourself, because with a snap of my finger, the whole world will know. Then you gotta ask yourself, what’s more important? Your happiness, her happiness, or the careers you both worked extremely hard for.”

She lets her hand fall and walks out of the party with her head held high. Unseen by you and unnoticed by everyone else here, almost like a ghost. Like the conversion never happened. 

But the ache in Eddie’s chest is proof enough. He knows what occurred, just like he knows what he unfortunately needs to do — which is break your fucking heart.

thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @astheni-a , @bebe07011

[ananke-xiii]

Rowena and the thick, bloody umbilical cord between choices and faults.

In a previous post of mine I’ve explored a little bit how Mary and Kelly represent a sort of “missed opportunity” for, respectively, Sam and Jack.

At the beginning of s13 Sam resents the fact that he hasn’t been proactive in seeking to create a relationship with his mother and now that she’s (presumably) gone he doesn’t want to deal with that reality. He had wasted his second chance. Jack, on the other hand, never even had a first opportunity to begin with but, unlike Sam, has experienced a sense of unity with his mother so extreme that one of the first things that he tells Sam is that he was his mother(!!!).

S13 reinforces the Mother-Son symbolism because, after Jack’s birth, a rift is opened in space (apparently not in time?): Kelly stays (dead, rip girl I love you) on one side of it while Mary crosses it and finds herself in Apocalypse World. To make things even more clear, this is no random parallel universe: this is the alternate reality where Mary didn’t deal with Azazel. So mothers and their choices/faults are a central theme in this season. Or, well, more or less.

To complete the mothers’ trimurti or, better, tridevi we’re missing the final mother, the destroyer who is, of course, Rowena. It’s therefore quite apt that Rowena reaches her highest potential this season and even confronts Death. What motivates her in an interesting blend of (missing)love and (lacking)power. Lucifer is as part of her story as Kelly’s and Mary’s. Unlike these two, though, she doesn’t have a son who resurrects her, nor a turned-benefactor cosmic being who offers her resurrection as a gift to her son. Rowena has to resurrect herself. Not once but twice. She is, perhaps, the loneliest character in the whole series.

This is actually quite ironic because, if we look back on previous seasons, her “choice” to kill Oskar, her putative son, was what triggered the whole chain of events (the freeing of Amara first and Lucifer second) that directly link Rowena with Mary and Kelly.

It’s only natural, then, that s13 Rowena keeps representing the reversal of the Mary and Sam/ Kelly and Jack relationships because there is no son who’s looking for her, rather she is the mother who’s looking for her (dead) child. Like Sam, she also needs someone who can access another dimension to bring Crowley back but, unlike him, she’s not successful. Now, ngl, this pisses me off to no end, like of course I can understand the real reasons why Crowley couldn’t be brought back, still I kinda hate how it was narratively framed.

When, in "Funeralia", Rowena says that life is unfair she is right but not in the general, pessimistic sense of the phrase: she's right because in-universe some deaths are more important than others and people get back on board depending on whether or not they're still a role to play for them. Rowena's faith in magic is actually justified because magic is the only thing that can help her. And the tragic thing is that it's also what damns her in the process because it's the only form of power she can have access to. There are no angels or cosmic entities looking out for her. She's just... alone.

So, perhaps, it's not that I necessarily hate how her failure to bring Crowley back is described, I just see it as further proof that Rowena is the best example to show how in Supernatural the game is rigged from the beginning and we didn’t even need an interfering and pervy God to realize it. That's all we've been seeing it since S1. All those infinite, booooring talks about being good/evil or doing good/bad actually mean nothing because, at the end of the day, in this show what really matters is how useful you can be, to whom and why (and this is way less booooring, you learn a lot of interesting things about these characters if you go down this road, it's grim but it's more rewarding).

S13 is also when the final connection between Rowena and the Winchesters, Sam to be more precise, is established which is indicative of the fact that she will inevitably die. Before S13 her story was her own, after “Funeralia” it cannot be extricated from Sam’s. To some degree, it’s quite similar to what happened with Crowley and Dean. What’s more, just like Crowley’s powers and shrewdness are what really carry the plot from s6 to s12, magic and spells (and therefore Rowena’s role in the story) will be the key for many plot points from s13 to s15. But there is a big difference.

Both Crowley and Rowena’s sacrifices are described as heroic but, let’s be honest, only Rowena’s was. Crowley’s demise was a clean-up after his own mess at best. It also proved to be unnecessary. Rowena and that awful MBOL’s egg thingy would have managed to confine Lucifer, like, they actually did it. It was Crowley who perverted the spell for reasons that I personally find OOC. I would’ve liked the Crowley vs Lucifer power struggle but not the way it was done in s12 because it felt very nonsensical to me. As in: I can see you need a reason to keep Lucifer around and this is what you’ve come up with but it’s still quite illogical.

At its hidden and secret core S13 is the season of the “let’s reframe the sons’ stories and blame it on the mothers”. Just like Kelly is blamed for Castiel’s ideal vision of Jack and Mary’s "choice" is established as the most important point in the whole show, Rowena-as-Mother must face the same fate: it was her fault if Crowley, Fergus!, ended the way he ended. It’s a naaaaaaaaaaaaaah for me.

This is what we’re told in “Funeralia”:

Rowena: Oh, but it is. Death has something I want. Sam: What’s that? Rowena: My son. After you told me he was gone, how he died, I had an unexpected reaction. We had our differences, but it’s my fault he went down the path he did. I left him. Dean: We’re talking about Crowley-- demon, King of Hell? Rowena: We’re talking about Fergus-- a man abandoned and loveless, tricked by a demon, died in a gutter. He deserved better from the world. From me.

Now, just to be clear: yes, Rowena had the responsibility to do better; yes, she was the absolute worst; yes, she played no small role in her son’s story. However, I personally don’t like all these negative associations between “worlds” and “mothers” as if every fucking thing in the universe is dependent solely on them. How did we end up here? It’s almost as if absent fathers are, like, not THAT bad after all (and the show, as far as I'm concerned, ultimately approves of and absolves absent fathers). So I’m very suspicious of the way motherhood is portrayed specifically in s13 and Rowena’s attempt at redemption well demonstrates that there is reason to be so.

This dialogue in “Funeralia” confirms my gut feeling:

Sam: You know, what happened with Crowley? That wasn’t your fault. Rowena: He never had a chance. Dean: He made his choices, just like we all do. Look, every one of us has done something that we have to live with, that were trying to make up for. Every one of us. Sam: Even without all that extra juice, you’re still the deadliest witch around [Sam's flattering Rowena. He's gonna ask for her help in 3,2,1...]. Rowena: Flatterer. Sam: Yeah, well, we, um... we may need your help [Here we go!]. To save our family. To… hell, to save the world. Dean: You wanna be redeemed? This would be a pretty big step. Rowena: And do you think I still can be? Dean: Yeah, I do.

I mean, not to be rude, but who the fuck cares if Dean Winchester thinks that Rowena can be redeemed? Like, how is Rowena’s redemption (which is strictly connected to her being a bad mother and not, among other things, a zero-regret murderer, which she also happens to be, for instance) connected to saving the Winchester’s family? Don’t get me wrong, I understand that this is SPN and that Sam and Dean’s problems are Apocalypse-level problems (lol, they really did that, when I say that their story is like a cosmogony maybe I’m not that wrong) but, as I’ve said, I cannot help but notice the similarities between Rowena’s arc this season with Mary’s and Jack’s, i.e. you can be redeemed if you either do something useful for the Winchesters or... realize that it's not your "fault" that your sons suffered terribily because "choosing" to deal with Azazel was actually the right choice... for the world. How come fathers saving the world are framed as heroic while mothers actively creating worlds by making hard choices that benefit the greater good need redemption?

So to sum up: while fathers invade S13’s main storyline as solvers, restorers and fixers, mothers are the bones of the story, they carry its weight and its sins but get little if nothing in return: Kelly stays dead, Mary ends up helping out a world that absolves her of her Original Sin but that’s nevertheless a mess (you can never win lol) and Rowena can’t get her son back (but she can save Sam and Dean's family the world!). Looks good, right? Hurray mommy!

[foxes-that-run]

But Daddy I Love Him

Daddy I love him is an Ariel quote, when Ariel gives up her voice for love. Taylor has given up love for her voice (career), but also not spoken up for what she wants most. But Daddy I Love Him is a continuation of a theme of how fame and fandoms have affected Taylor's personal life. What I love about this song is it sounds like an older Taylor Swift song, she embraces a country sound and speaks her mind.

While the parallels to the reaction to a relationship in May 2023 can be seen, this overlooks much of her experience with this behaviour. I don't mean to say it is not an element, but it is far from a complete story to say it is about ending a 3 week relationship with someone about whom she also said "And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive" on the same record.

In her NYU Graduation address in May 2022 Taylor had part of the concept in this already swirling in her mind, a full year before she dated Matty Healy:

Having journalists write in-depth, oftentimes critical, pieces about who they perceive me to be made me feel like I was living in some weird simulation, but it also made me look inward to learn about who I actually am. Having the world treat my love life like a spectator sport in which I lose every single game was not a great way to date in my teens and twenties, but it taught me to protect my private life fiercely. Being publicly humiliated over and over again at a young age was excruciatingly painful but it forced me to devalue the ridiculous notion of minute by minute, ever fluctuating social relevance and likability. 

What Taylor is referring to is the treatment by the media and fandoms throughout her career, but this was never more of an issue than 2012-2014. Nothing is a terrifying as a teenager on fledgeling social media. This TikTok creator describes it perfectly:

From tabloids, twitter, tumblr, even people who looked like Taylor were abused.

So yes, Harry has had and worn t-Shirt with the song title for years, and yes they have both dressed up as Ariel. But that is not all that makes this song about Taylor loosing her love over fan behaviour... it's because she did. She lost the love she wrote 1989 including "This love left a permanent mark / This love is glowing in the dark"  about. And it continues today, there are a lot of people who still call Harry's partners vile names and think it is OK to treat others poorly because they suggest he could care for someone. I think anyone who's read this far knows exactly what I mean, probably first hand.

This affected Taylor the point the Clean Speeches on the 1989 Tour were on this topic, every night she talked about bullying, self worth and holding onto love.

The 'Daddy' is not just the fans and media, but probably her team also. I think the varied shapes in the CDs are to show this comes in many forms and roles, not just one experience. As Taylor said to Rolling Stone in 2014 before 1989 was released:

Lyrics

[Verse 1] I forget how the West was won I forget if this was ever fun I just learned these people only raise you To cage you Sarahs and Hannahs in their Sunday best Clutching their pearls, sighing, “What a mess” I just learned these people try and save you ‘Cause they hate you

For the international fans like myself 'How the West was Won' is a 1960's film about American colonisation. I think the opening 2 lines do 2 things, place us in a country setting and also tell us Taylor cares more about speaking her mind than what may be higher bigger goals.

The second half of this verse goes on to set out that it is fans who are approaching her love lost as trauma porn, and I am here for it.

I also note the cage reference, Taylor (and Harry) have a long theme of being caged or trapped by fame, she has a literal cage in her Nashville apartment, he has a cage tattoo and they have used cage, glass boxes, fishbowls, snowglobe imagery. Here she points out the fans are not really there for her, they are seeking to control her.

[Pre-Chorus 1] Too high a horse for a simple girl To rise above it They slammed the door on my whole world The one thing I wanted

The pre-chorus furthers that the final straw has been broken, she's been cornered by fans to give up something she cares for.

Vigante Shit "Ladies always rise above / Ladies know what people want / Someone sweet and kind and fun /The lady simply had enough"

Is It Over Now? "I was hoping you’d be there and say the one thing I’ve been wanting, but no"

That is the only time Taylor has sung about ‘wanting one thing' before. This also reminds me of the Delicate Behind the Scenes, where she said she got a note from a lover and wants to be with him but realises 'it can never be him'

[Chorus] Now I’m running with my dress unbuttoned Scrеaming, “But, Daddy, I love him I’m having his baby” No, I’m not, but you should see your faces I’m telling him to floor it through thе fences No, I’m not coming to my senses I know he’s crazy, but he’s the one I want

In the chorus Taylor acts out a churlish child yelling at a father. The 'daddy' is many roles, her actual parents, fans, media and probably record company and PR people who told her she could be with the one she loved, throughout her life. She says the matching line to Harry's Kiwi, which has the same meaning.

Taylor 'floors it through the fences, fed up and unwilling to listen. This is great imagery, to break through fences, and also as metaphorical fences that have been placed around what considered acceptable for her. Cars are also a Haylor theme, including Run below and often used as a metaphor for their love escaping as it is here. (All I know is that you drove us off the road / Let’s get out of this town, drive out of the city, away from the crowds)

Is It Over Now?: Was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse?

Run: And my so-called friends, they don’t know I’d drive away before I let you go

In Kiwi Harry yells a tabloid line followed with it's none of your business. In his Harry's House ONO complete with pointing at the camera and crowd. Taylor also referenced these same tabloids headlines in the Reputation magazine.

Kiwi "I'm having your baby / It's none of your business"

[Verse 2] Dutiful daughter, all my plans were laid Tendrils tucked into a woven braid Growing up precocious sometimes means Not growing up at all He was chaos, he was revelry Bedroom eyes like a remedy Soon enough, the elders had convened Down at the city hall

In the second verse Taylor establishes that she has gone everything asked of her:

Style - "I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt"

Style - "So it goes, he can’t keep his wild eyes on the road"

Yet is denied freedom and the elders decree the match is unsuitable. I think the elders are her team. She describes the muse as chaos and revelry. This is very reminiscent of the I Knew You Were Trouble introduction poem, but while in 2012 Taylor was contrite and said it was too much she now revels in the revelry:

"And the crazy thing is I don't know if I'm ever gonna feel that way again, but I don't know if I should. I knew his world moved too fast and burned too bright, but I just thought, how can the devil be pulling you toward someone who looks so much like an angel when he smiles at you? Maybe he knew that when he saw me. I guess I just lost my balance. I think that the worst part of it all wasn't losing him it was losing me"

[Pre-Chorus 2] “Stay away from her” The saboteurs protested too much Lord knows the words we never heard Just screeching tires and true love

The 'daddy' has now forbidden the love, this is reminiscent of Love Story: "And my daddy said, “Stay away from Juliet”

[Chorus] And I’m running with my dress unbuttoned Screaming, “But, Daddy, I love him I’m having his baby” No, I’m not, but you should see your faces I’m telling him to floor it through the fences No, I’m not coming to my senses I know he’s crazy, but he’s the one I want

'Crazy' and Madness are a Haylor theme, particularly in the Blank Space music video, and these lyrics

Wonderland "And in the end, in Wonderland, we both went mad"

Kiwi "She's driving me crazy, but I'm into it (Oh) and "It's getting crazy, I think I'm losing it, I think I'm losing it"

But many more songs:

[Post-Chorus 1] I’ll tell you something right now I’d rather burn my whole life down Than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning I’ll tell you something ’bout my good name It’s mine alone to disgrace I don’t cater to all these vipers dressed in empath’s clothing

I love the last line, vipers dressed in empaths clothing, that is exactly what they are.

[Bridge] God save the most judgmental creeps Who say they want what’s best for me Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I’ll never see Thinking it can change the beat Of my heart when he touches me And counteract the chemistry And undo the destiny You ain’t gotta pray for me Me and my wild boy and all of this wild joy If all you want is gray for me Then it’s just white noise, and it’s just my choice

The only time Taylor has described someone as wild in lyrics is in Style "So it goes, he can’t keep his wild eyes on the road"

Afterglow "Chemistry until it blows up"

I love the end of the bridge, elsewhere on the record Taylor describes her long term relationship as grey, staid and boring. For many years some fans have shoehorned this person into lyrics because they want to see themselves in her, as they settle down they want her too. From my point of view some rather loud warning signs in songs were overlooked, or seen as 'she's remembering the past/when they first got together' to avoid accepting she was unhappy and wanted out.

Out of the Woods "The rest of the world was black and white But we were in screaming color"

[Verse 3] There’s a lot of people in town that I Bestow upon my fakest smiles Scandal does funny things to pride, but brings lovers closer We came back when the heat died down Went to my parents and they came around All the wine moms are still holding out But fuck ’em, it’s over

This verse is where I think it becomes clear than the 2023 lens is at best reminding Taylor of a past love, because that relationship never came back. Matty has said they never dated in 2014, there was no controversy around her attending concerts then. They dated for a few weeks then stopped talking, and of story.

However Harry and Taylor did sing about a hidden relationship for years. In fact Taylor wasn't connected to anyone else in a serious way for three years. In particular

Wildest Dreams: I said, “No one has to know what we do”

This Love "This love came back to me, oh, oh, oh"

I know places : "Somethin' happens when everybody finds out / See the vultures circling, dark clouds" and "we're bulletproof I know places (Hide) and you know for me, it's always you"

…Ready For It?: "Island breeze and lights down low, no one has to know"

I Know Places TV's lyric video for got a very TTPD themed look.

[Final Chorus] Now I’m dancing in my dress in the sun and Even my daddy just loves him I’m his lady And, oh, my God, you should see your faces Time, doesn’t it give some perspective? And, no, you can’t come to the wedding I know it’s crazy, but he’s the one I want

Taylor is asking her fans, parents, media if they have grown up, from when they were teenagers playing with her real life, do they have perspective and willing to accept that she loves someone of her choosing?

And no, they can't come to the wedding, but I bet they have Eras Tour tickets.... and some showed up at Jacks.

[utilitycaster]

"There is zero attempt to extend anything but bad faith."

standing ovation for tidily describing this fandom in a nutshell tbh

Thanks, but I'm talking about a particular subset, the handwringy overwrought appeals to emotion crowd for whom the gods can never under any circumstances be redeemed, so unless you are also talking about that specific small piece of the fandom, I disagree! I actually think the fandom at large has been pretty receptive to the story as it's being told. And honestly, even when I've been in fandoms that frustrated me greatly with widespread bad faith interpretations (Midst and WBN have both had problems here)* they've come around when more obvious evidence came about. Better late than never.

I do think that an issue in this fandom, and fandoms at large, is not so much bad faith but as someone else said, motivated reasoning (though in the case of something the motivated reasoner dislikes, will become bad faith). A lot of people decide how they want to the story to go very early, often in a manner that validates their own existing real-world politics (even if they're not super applicable to the situation at hand) or personal preferences. I mean, that's in the end the source of a good number of shipping bad takes - people decide two characters must be in love and so even if they start dating other people and not talking to each other anymore, the motivated reasoning shipper decides that ACTUALLY this is all a front and the actor's blinks are in secret code and the relationship will definitely break up and the True Love was Always Endgame no matter how many times the creators say "no, it never was our intention to have those characters get together." But even then I think the silent majority of most fandoms are just. vibing and happy to be here. It's just that motivated reasoning people are loud.

And I'm not setting myself apart here; I'm loud and I'm certainly not without bias. My motivated reasoning tends to be based on foregone conclusions that I think are more likely to actually play out, I think, and I try to be self aware about it, but like, I do tend to assume stories will be good and follow some narrative lines and use the hints they drop, and that is itself an assumption because some stories are poorly made. Like, for example, with the gods, I do think that there is very little chance Matt is going to tell a story that's like "hey, Ashley, you know your first ever TTRPG character, who brought you into this friend group and whose life's purpose is to restore worship in the Everlight? Bad news, Everlight's a genocidal cunt and she's gotta die." That's obviously not my only evidence here. We've got the whole opening scene. We've got the fact that the non-Aeorian NPCs who aren't divine companions we've spent time with have been a sickly old man granted peace in death, a gnomish woman granted solace after being cruelly mocked by Aeorian forces, and the beggars who didn't have food despite wagons of supplies going to Aeor, whereas the Aeorian NPCs have been guards, slimy bureaucrats, teens badly beaten for minor crimes, and a drunk cop; the defaced and forgotten temple in a poor neighborhood that is heavily surveilled from afar because its laborers are unwelcome. Hell, as I said before it aired, the fact that the main PCs are gods and not Aeorian mages is a very deliberate and telling choice on its own. But yeah on some level, while I think Bells Hells have the space to decide to kill the gods since they are those same cast members (thought I doubt that is what they will do), I do not think Matt will tell an earlier story that says "hey, everyone at the table except Marisha? your beloved character(s) whom you played for all or most of a campaign followed a rotten-to-the-core lie."

Going off the meta of creators is a bit risky - a lot of dumb D20 discourse is based on assuming Brennan's leftism is the same as Very Online I Do Not Dream Of Labor Leftism and not his actual "the BBEG is the exploitation and undervaluing of labor and the dehumanization of others; labor itself can be deeply fulfilling, you just shouldn't be forced to rely on your capacity to do labor to the exclusion of all other things to be housed and fed" leftism and reasoning from there - but it's certainly more reliable than going off reasoning of "I as a random private individual want the gods to die for whatever the fuck reason and therefore that is the correct thing to happen and any other outcome is bad."

This is very rambly because I just got up and maybe it's that it's a nice morning and I can actually enjoy a leisurely breakfast before going into work unlike most of last week and much of the rest of this week, but for all I proudly identify as a hater, I am very much a lover of fiction and I want it to succeed and I want it to not just validate me. Like, if I hate on something it's because I wish it were better, but I don't hate on something just because it presents a different viewpoint than the one I already held. And I think you have to bring that good faith to fandom as well. If people are being idiots and assholes then yeah you don't need to keep acting like they're valid for that (I mean, they're valid in that everyone has the right to their opinions, but not in the sense that you need to grant those opinions intellectual consideration on par with thoughtful and evidenced meta and theories) but I do not actually go in assuming the fandom is going to be wrong and dumb and disappointing, and I think that's why I've found such enjoyment in it. Most people are chill! Chill people just tend not to loudly say WOW I'M SO CHILL AND THIS STORY IS GREAT.

*one bit of salt to cut the sweetness here but also still weirdly positive: the way I've dealt with that and specifically WBN is that I am trying to write one piece of meta after each episode that doesn't attack people or anything, just lays out my thoughts respectfully. Be the change you wish to see. I think a lot of people in fandom see someone disagreeing with them and go "OH YOU CAN'T LET US HAVE ANYTHING" and frankly this is the cause of almost all fandom unpleasantness I've experienced (in the sense of people seeing me say I don't like something and acting like I shut them down instead of simply didn't vibe), but it's important to remember that isn't how it works. Even if you do think the fandom has widespread bad opinions, you can change this by being thoughtful and patient and putting forth better ones. I mean there's limits, and if a fandom is genuinely hateful, get out, but if it's just surface-level takes for something that should be deeper? Be the one who shows the depth.

[sophaeros]

golden trunks theory but i've forgotten how to do literary analysis:

so i think much like a lot of tbhc golden trunks is about a juxtaposition between intimacy/desire and the facade u have to put up as a public figure

like the opening verse/chorus are so starkly plain in the mental image they describe. it's just a simple portrait of an intimate night falling asleep together, and theres a very secretive tone created by the words "whispered" "admit". so from the get go we know immediately that it's about "true love" → romantic connotations, and this true love is associated w the night ie secrecy

this is a stark contrast to the second verse and bridge but esp the bridge where he plainly says "in the daytime". usually the day and light are associated w truth and revealing things but here he uses the daytime to talk about "a fresh new pack of lies", in contrast to the nighttime's "true love". the fact that the bridge is about being a celebrity and contending with lying for the sake of public relations is made very clear w how he says "bendable figures" → public figures who just bend/conform to the narrative crafted by pr managers, and most obviously w the use of the word "publicise". in an interview w la times hes asked if he enjoys being a pop star (w all the pressure and attention that entails) and he says "i have very little basis for comparison. the band has been going on for a larger fraction of my lifetime than it hasn’t." so as a very private person even leaving conspiracy theories about sexuality aside hes obv familiar w trying to keep the details of his relationships out of the spotlight. + this idea of the nighttime being the time for truth has been used before in diwk so it's a consistent theme

lots of people say the song about politics bc of the second verse cuz they say it's about (eugh) donald trump but i feel like thats a very surface reading. it's very out of place to me for him to have this randomass political commentary in a love song that he never brings up ever again which is why i dont think it's actually political commentary (or well, not Just, the pitchfork interview shows that is Is aware of politics obv it's just not the Point) it's just another angle to illustrate the idea of a public facing facade. he states in an interview that he thought of the wwf, which has given us the very interesting concept of kayfabe: the fact or convention of presenting staged performances as genuine or authentic. the public persona, like a wrestler w a dramatic theme song, is larger than life, rehearsed, beloved and famous, and also very much fake. 

this next part i said entirely as a joke making shit up while talking to my mutuals but then i was like wait maybe i was cooking. we're getting into more speculative rpf territory here but essentially i thought it was very interesting how he specifies that this is "the closest thing to a love song on this record", and also that the character it's centred around is one that he "made". many of his past love songs everyone knows are about his real actual love interests (eg shes thunderstorms was about alexa. alexa was a tv presenter) and now here's this song that is about simple, straightforward admittance of desire towards someone that doesnt exist. summed up in my og message to my mutuals, "hes singing to the amalgamation of his lovers an imaginary ideal to whom he can be simple and honest with in a way he can't quite bring himself to be in real life". i honestly feel like this gels well with the ultracheese's last two lines; a vague admission of guilt, of complicated feelings, vs capitulating to honesty and tiring of lying for the sake of pr ("i'm sure you've heard about enough"). + i find it interesting that golden trunks is that only tbhc song that has never been performed live

++ this idea of duplicity and lying has come up a lot in his discography but in tbhc specifically the bside anyways has the line "what a place for both the opposite sides / of my double life to finally collide"

and finally. the absolute funniest part of golden trunks.

Let me set the scene: sometime between Axl Rose getting braids (2002) and��People Just Do Nothing jumping the shark (right now), those brothers in melodic yarns Turner and Kane, plus “another human being” – let’s call her “The Girl”, shall we, to save her poor mother’s heart condition? – are intertwined among the postcoital flotsam of an upmarket hotel room. “Hey, I’m glad you came,” Turner is alleged to have said, forever on the right side of etiquette and politeness in such matters. While Kane, in his sludgy Scouser lilt acknowledged, “Ah, thanks, man.” At which point Turner sat bolt upright in his sparkly gold briefs (unconfirmed) to stress who, in fact, his grateful aside was aimed at: “Not you, you wally. Her!”

sauces: - quotes curated by genius - la times - gq magazine / tumblr post

[blackjackkent]

It really does crack me up how the timing of certain cutscenes ends up reading based on how the story around them has played out.

I went to do a quick long rest before setting off for Candulhallow's, and guess what, y'all!

It's time for the Emperor's shirtless scene.

At some point perhaps I will do a playthrough for a character for whom this moment is not hilariously jarring. But not this time!

For Hector, this scene managed to time itself on the same long rest where he had his Act 3 romance scene with Karlach, which was deeply funny to me because it read very much like the Emperor getting jealous and trying to shoot its shot.

In this case, the scene is hitting directly on the heels of Rakha's showdown with it in recruiting Minsc, and her subsequent conversation with Minsc in which Minsc revealed the Emperor's attempt to appear to him as a dead friend. (And her realization afterwards that the Emperor sees her as much more manipulable than Minsc.)

So now this cutscene reads as once again very deliberately timed, but in a much more sinister way. This is the Emperor realizing its control over Rakha is slipping, and it's trying every trick in its arsenal to try and get it back.

Rakha stirs, coming awake within her dream inside the Astral Prism. The familiar sense of peace and silence touches her mind, shutting out the squirming of the tadpole, the growling of the beast.

Instead she hears only the Emperor, its basso murmur resonant in the silence humming with magic.

"They say that home is where a person can be their truest selves," it says thoughtfully as it sees her open her eyes. "Without guile, without pretense. You did well to see off the githyanki who had invaded mine."

She opens her eyes and looks up, and then blinks several times, bewildered.

The Emperor is sitting half out of its armor, stretched on the stone next to her, watching her with its intense, violet gaze. It doesn't move as she sits up slowly, just tracks its eyes to hers unblinkingly.

"And now," it goes on, slowly and deliberately, "that you have seen where I come from, you know all there is to know about me. At least all that matters."

It leans forward slightly towards her by a few inches. "The flavors of my favorite fiddlehead soup, should you wish to experience it for yourself. My beloved confidant and loyal companion, Rascal. The very first reward I gifted myself on completion of my first adventure. The garments with which I concealed and later constructed my appearance as the Emperor. We spoke of my relationship with Duke Belynne Stelmane, a story I have told no one else."

It tilts its head. She gets the impression that it is watching her expression very closely. "I have no more secrets from you," it says gravely. "No need to resort to subterfuge. We are true allies now, working towards a common goal."

(A/N: Rakha's relationship with the Emperor really has been such an interesting ride.

There was actually a point where I thought that Rakha might - in a fit of terrible decision-making and depressive self-sabotage - sleep with the Emperor at this point, if she was in a bad enough place over the revelations about her heritage and desperate enough for the comfort that the Prism (and the Emperor) provides.

However, Wyll and Jaheira a little bit, and far more importantly MINSC, have had a tremendous impact on her in the last couple of in-game days. I really did not at all expect the degree to which Minsc would throw her entire world off its axis and put cracks in her certainty about allying with the Emperor or even the idea that it has good intentions towards her at all.

It was already jarring when she heard the Emperor describe Minsc derisively with terms that Rakha would also apply to herself. But that one conversation with Minsc - about the Emperor appearing as Dynaheir - changed her entire perspective. It told Minsc what he wanted to hear, Minsc said, and all of a sudden Rakha hears everything the Emperor says with more skepticism.

And this conversation is FULL of manipulation, a barrage of facts and imagery designed to make the Emperor look humanized and vulnerable. And frankly if Minsc hadn't put Rakha so much on her guard so recently, it might be working a lot better.

I really wish there was an option to call the Emperor out specifically on the Dynheir thing - about appearing to someone as their dead friend, and would he have done that to her too if she had any friends that she remembered - but sadly there isn't.)

"Why did you resort to subterfuge at all?" she asks slowly. Her voice is the same as it always is, flat and matter-of-fact and somewhat tired, but she can see the Emperor stiffen at the question.

"The only way we were ever going to get close enough to the brain to destroy it was by working together," it says, trying now to match her matter-of-fact attitude. "But few would trust a mind flayer, so I did what I had to do to convince you. I studied you. Your motivations, your actions, your desires. I deduced the best way to align your goals with my own."

It told Minsc exactly what he wanted to hear...

Part of her is afraid, desperately afraid. This place, this little pocket dimension, has been one of her only sources of true peace since this whole mess began. Perhaps she should cling to it, shy away from the fight, maintain the status quo rather than risk losing this iota of safety...

But there is rage in her, too - rage at seeing how she has been manipulated, at hearing the Emperor acknowledge it so baldly. And with the beast sedated in her brain, it is her rage for once, all her, boiling through every vein.

"You tried to control me," she rasps.

"I needed your absolute dedication to the cause," it responds placidly. "I anticipated the challenge, and I anticipated your resistance. What I didn't anticipate was how reasonable you would be. You don't like to be coddled, cajoled. But you responded well to logic, to rational arguments, to cold hard facts. You saw straight to the core of what really mattered."

(A/N: LOL. Well that's fun. :D That's an incredibly accurate assessment of Rakha, actually. Apparently the distinction between this description and the one Hector got (where the Emperor goes straight to the seduction) is whether or not you've slurped the Astral Worm, but it does work so incredibly well in a more general sense for how Rakha's personality has evolved. XD )

Rakha shifts uncomfortably. It does know her very well indeed, there's no question of that. And there was a time when that would have brought her comfort, desperate and hungry for understanding and comfort as she has been.

But it's too late now, isn't it? The glass is cracked, and the dark behind it can't be unseen.

"I enjoyed our conversations," she mutters. There's regret in her tone, and a flicker of rueful amusement too. On some level she listened to the Emperor because she wanted to, regardless of its actions.

"As did I." It pushes itself to its feet in an abrupt, smooth motion.

She follows warily, her shoulders hunched slightly forward as if expecting an attack that doesn't come. Surely it sees by now that she no longer trusts it. Surely it will see occasion to lash out. She would, in its place.

But it takes a different tack, one she does not expect at all.

"Sometimes," it says, its voice lowering almost to a purr, "I felt almost like we were dancing our way towards something deeper..."

(A/N: Lol. Lmao, even. In this scenario this is such a blatant last-ditch hail mary attempt on the Emperor's part that it's deeply funny. There is no way it would be trying this with Rakha unless EVERYTHING else had failed.)

Rakha stares at it. Something deeper.

She remembers very little of the world, but she is no fool, and she has had enough people express interest in her since she woke up that she has no trouble parsing what this means. Romance. Sex.

It thinks she can be convinced that she cares about it, the way she does Wyll. It thinks it can TAKE her from Wyll, and use that to keep her attentive, obedient, docile. It thinks she would turn on Wyll for quick pleasure, flattery...

...or for the promise of the Prism always within her grasp, bound by romantic attachment as well as necessity.

She swallows uncomfortably. That last part is, unfortunately, all too tempting regardless of the circumstance. But is it enough to be worth betraying Wyll? Is it enough to surrender to the manipulation, rather than stand against it as Minsc did?

No.

No. No. No. No. No. NO.

"Absolutely not, you bastard,"(*) she snarls, a wounded animal crying defiance at the trap closed around its leg.

The Emperor's head snaps back, its eyes narrowing to purple slits. "Bastard?" it murmurs. "If only you knew..." Then a strange rattling noise like an alien laugh. "But why conceal it? You may as well see for yourself."

It moves lightning quick, lifting a hand and squeezing it into a fist. At once Rakha feels her whole body go stiff as a board, and her vision flares to white and into a series of images - familiar but different, a slightly different angle, just enough to reveal the cold... hard... facts...

The Emperor hovering over a woman's squirming body - Duke Stelmane, in her quarters in the Elfsong. Her eyes flashing open as her body goes still, a purple light in her eyes signifying total mental control. That violent glint still in her eyes as she speaks with merchants across the table from the Emperor in the headquarters of the Knights of the Shield. A blank, slackjawed expression on her face as she raises a glass numbly in its direction.

No sign of the warm partnership the Emperor described. Subservience. Control. Helpless submission.

The vision snaps away like a light going out, and Rakha comes back to herself to find the Emperor staring daggers at her, its tentacles twitching wildly. "Did you like it?" it growls. "The truth? This was the alternative relationship we *could* have had. Aren't you glad I finessed my methods?"

It drifts a step closer, and Rakha backpedals just out of its reach, feeling her heart rate start to quicken.

"But since you insist on thwarting my craft," it goes on, inexorable and cold as a rolling glacier, "let us be blunt. You are my puppet. Make no mistake. Without me, you have no value. You will take me to the brain because you have no other choice. And once we are there, you will do exactly what I tell you to."

It draws another foot closer and her skin prickles as one of its tentacles brushes casually against her arm. "And you would do well to reconsider unlocking your potential. Your puerile attachment to your material form jeopardizes us all. If I must, I will force you."

(A/N: Holy shit. a;lskjdf;alsjkdf;lasdja wow. Okay. I knew that it was possible to learn that the Emperor's intentions towards Stelmane weren't as charitable as it made them out to be, but this is such an incredible mask-off switch, far more intense than I was aware of. And holy SHIT does this cut Rakha right to the marrow. She TRUSTED this asshole. She really, truly believed that she was following well-intentioned guidance, and it is making it perfectly clear now that it sees her as nothing but a gnat that it knew it could control.

You are my puppet. Without me you have no value. Goddamn, what a kick in everything Rakha most fears about herself. Sheesh.)

Rakha's whole body is trembling with desperate, helpless rage. Only the knowledge that killing the Emperor here and now would leave her vulnerable to the brain's transformation keeps her from throttling its tentacles off one by one. Thank the gods that the beast sleeps in the Astral, or it would surely be the end of everything.

The Emperor is right about one thing. They need each other. But they will not always. One day this will be finished - and then she most certainly has debts she will be coming to collect.

"First chance I get," she growls hoarsely, "I will rip your head off, mind flayer."

"I'll remember that," it answers coldly, and with a wave of its hand sends her falling backwards into darkness.

-----

Wyll and Jaheira both hear Rakha come awake. Both of them look over as she squirms in her bindings in the corner of camp, beginning to thrash around violently for a few moments before suddenly going still. In the nighttime quiet they can hear the harshness of her breathing.

This isn't exactly unusual; she wakes from terrible, bloody dreams all the time. But somehow this is different, and after a moment Wyll goes to her side to check on her, laying a hand on her shoulder.

She jerks away from the touch, curling into herself. "You were right..." he hears her whisper, almost inaudibly. There's rage in the tone - and fear too, and the combination has sent her trembling in every limb. "You were right. You were right... you were right... you were right..."

"Right?" he asks gently. "What happened? Right about what?"

But she shakes her head and doesn't elaborate, just lies there shivering with her eyes open, staring towards the fire, for a very, very long time.

-----

(*) In-game line is "Absolutely not, you freak!" which doesn't feel Rakha-ish to me.

[backjustforberena]

what do you think of rhaenyra and rhaenys's last scene together? personally it almost brought me to tears to watch rhaenyra in real time process what she stands to lose if rhaenys were to not come back. an ardent supporter, a mentor, the last maternal figure she has left

I don't know if I'm going to answer your question in exactly the way you want to hear because, just for me, and I know others, such as yourself, feel differently... but for me, I am really, really hesitant to describe Rhaenyra and Rhaenys's relationships as mother-daughter or particularly maternal.

Now, that's not me denying that there is an argument to be made and that Rhaenys doesn't exhibit that kind of energy because I think she very much does and a lot of her energy, in general, is expelled from a very caring place. But I've always sort of fought against boxing in that relationship as purely maternal or going hyperbolic and saying that they are like mother and daughter. I'll just say why, for my own sake, and then get on with your actual question.

I think that doesn't really do either of them any favours and it usually only serves Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra is the one who, could be said, to need a mother figure and would have something to gain from that characterisation, if only audience sympathy. Rhaenys, really, has nothing to gain from Rhaenya as a daughter figure. Not from the audience, but nothing in-world, either, considering she not only had children whom she loved and lost but also has granddaughters, one of whom she basically raised. She's not lacking. This is a complex relationship and ought to be treated with that complexity, whereas saying or categorising it as something ideal cauterises that kind of thinking, in my head, at least.

So, I would very much go with your first descriptors, which is a supporter and a mentor. I think those absolutely fit. Especially as a mentor. And I found the scene touching. I found it had a feeling of resolution, of clarity. You could see that the interaction meant something to both women.

Even if this mission hadn't ended in death, it is momentous: it's an opening of floodgates, it's sending a dragon in, it's a moment of no return and something that both women have been holding off on but now are the first to instigate. Rhaenyra's accepted the path. Rhaenys has volunteered. I think that's incredibly important: they are both going into it with their eyes wide open.

Eve Best actually speaks about this specific moment in an interview, which you can read HERE. I really rate it. And I think it really shows her understanding and her wish to get that moment right. I'll let you read it for yourself, but something that I really liked is that Eve calls this interaction Rhaenys's last moment of teaching.

[aliciavance4228]

Do u have any hcs for Chiron and Carikhlo?

Yup!

I imagine Chariclo as energetic, enthusiastic, outgoing, openhearted, and open-minded. She's basically a free spirit, always wanting to try new things. Chiron finds her personality overwhelming at times, but this is part of the reason why he loves her in the first place;

She met Chiron long before the other centaurs appeared and Chiron was the only one of his kind. She got immediately curious and was one of the very few people who wasn't afraid not repulsed by his appearance and actually wanted to know him better;

Chiron initially avoided relationships back when he was young due to what happened to his mother. He was also afraid by the idea that he would father a child that could be the same type of hybrid he was, and that his mother would feel ashamed by that in the same way Philyra was after she gave to him. Chariclo basically helped him overcome his fears;

Chiron is a redhead, and Chariclo's favourite color is red (this is based on the fact that Ocyrrhoe is described as having auburn hair);

He barely talks, she talks enough for the both of them;

Chariclo uses to either sit or lean on his back almost all the time (and he got used to that);

Chariclo likes to make different wreaths (laurel, olive, flowers etc.). Once she finishes one he would wear it for the rest of the day;

Chariclo loves fried rabbit. That's why he hunts them the most often ever since they two got married;

She is quite short, so Chiron is usually lying down when he talks to her;

Don't know if it counts as a "date", but they like to travel through the forests together in their free time (she rides him);

Chariclo has a bad habit of getting drunk at parties. Chiron would usually try to stop her, and he would get drunk in the process too;

They two used to be very wild and naughty back when they were young, but throughout the years they became one of those calm and peaceful couples whom you could never suspect of anything racy;

Going by that version where Apollo is Chariclo's father, I like to imagine that she can play the lyre just like him. Chiron would sometimes ask her to play it in the hope that the kids would fell asleep, and he would end up falling asleep first lol;

They two sleep outside during summer (unless it's raining) and look at the night sky ever since Melanippe/Ocyrrhoe became a constellation;

They used to share the same bedroom (she was sleeping in the bed and he on the floor) back when they were younger, but as Chiron got older and started to snore during nighttime he slowly began to sleep in the stable;

Chariclo visits his stable in order to cover him with a blanket before going to bed;

Chiron loves children and usually acts both as a father-figure and teacher to them, and Chariclo finds that endearing;

[piperxnoel]

PART 1: THE BASICS

• What is your full name?

Piper Noelle Harrington-Cruz

• Where and when were you born?

In Rhode Island on December 8th.

• Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)

Adoptive Parents: Deshaun(👼🏾) and Chauncey Harrington. Married 28 years. Had custody of Piper since she was born.

Biological Parents: Michael and Valencia Vergara. Married 30 years.

Deshaun was a Professor of English at NYU before retiring at 38. After which she returned to her Salon business as a stylist and owner. She also helped Piper run her business until her untimely death. Her mom was a fun loving, energetic woman with a fiery attitude and optimistic disposition. she was young at heart, supportive and an amazing mom and glamma.

Chauncey is a business owner. In his lifetime, he has owned several businesses. From a car dealership and car wash, to a barber shop, and a few fast food franchises. He has always had several sources of income. Currently his main occupation is that of a property investor. He is a quiet man with little to say, has a strong sense of humility and strives to be the best at everything he can. Around his daughters, he’s very comical, always joking and sharing stories of his past with them. He’s very protective and vigilant when it comes to his girls.

Michael is a lawyer and a doting father to his two girls. Though he’s only known Piper for the past 7 years, he has built a loving relationship with her and her children. Valencia is a doctor. She is very sweet and caring, but also no nonsense. She and Piper have struggled with building a strong bond but the two love one other very much.

• Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?

Piper has 4 siblings. 1 older sister, Lauren Vergara(strong, determined, but guarded and stubborn) and 3 younger siblings, Yessica, Annabella, and Zalena. All of her younger siblings are similar in personality. They are all quite like Piper and very close knit.

• Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.

Piper lives in a Modern Mansion in Los Angeles with her sister and best friend, Sarai and their 4 kids.

• What is your occupation?

Like her father, Piper is a serial entrepreneur and owns several beauty based businesses. Currently she owns and operates 2 salons, a spa, and is in the process of building her medical Spa which is set to host its grand opening in the Spring. She also owns a cosmetics company, lash extensions line and is working on her own line of hair care products and extensions. She co-owns a food truck with her ex husband and son but only manages the books for the company. The business is for her son and he is the only one of the three who profits from the company.

• Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.

Piper is 5’2, weighs 163, is mixed race(black, white, dominican), has long black hair and brown eyes. She likes to dress stylish, often times going through different trendy looks, but adding her own twist. She has several tattoos, the most important ones are the times of her children’s births on her ankle and arm.

• To which social class do you belong?

Piper is currently apart of the upper class but has been apart of both the lower and middle class before.

• Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?

No.

• Are you right- or left-handed?

Right.

• What does your voice sound like?

Sweet, modulated, and melodic on a normal day with a bit of raspiness when she’s sick or has been crying or yelling or overly excited.

• What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?

Girlll, Child, love bug, babes, hey boo, bitchhhhh, and please leave me the fuck alone are the most common.

• What do you have in your pockets?

Nothing. I carry a purse. I keep my wallet, phone, make up, gloss/lipstick, and protection from weirdos with me at all times.

• Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?

None that I can think of.

PART 2: GROWING UP

* How would you describe your childhood in general?

Pipes had a great childhood. In the beginning, her parents struggled to conceive and adopted her in the years after taking in Piper, they fell on hard times, but were able to bounce back relatively quickly. Her parents never let Piper or her younger sister see their struggles. They often went back and forth between Rhode Island and New York. Her parents covered her, protecting her from seeing how bad things were. Eventually, when they were in a better postion, her parents filled her childhood with beautiful memories of family time at amusement parks, trips, and more. She was very loved and taken care of.

* What is your earliest memory?

Piper’s earliest memory is

* How much schooling have you had?

* Did you enjoy school?

* Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?

* While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.

* While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?

* As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

* As a child, what were your favorite activities?

* As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?

* As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?

* When and with whom was your first kiss?

* Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?

PART 3: PAST INFLUENCES

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?

* Who has had the most influence on you?

* What do you consider your greatest achievement?

* What is your greatest regret?

* What is the most evil thing you have ever done?

* Do you have a criminal record of any kind?

* When was the time you were the most frightened?

* What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?

* If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?

* What is your best memory?

* What is your worst memory?