#like this show there is some certainty that they're about to do something crazy

[ar-bi-trary]

i fear the setlist ramifications so badly tonight

[morallysuperiorlips]

10 Ways to Ensure Your Villain's Evil Monologuing Dialogue is as Unsettling as Possible!

1.) Make sure you're mixing body language with the words themselves: You can have your villain saying the most twisted shit, but if they're just standing there like a cardboard cutout, their words probably aren't going to hit as hard. Have them touch your protag. Have them toy with a weapon as if they're going to use it. Have them pace. Have them put together the blood ritual they're ranting about. Keep them moving.

2.) Have them use personal knowledge as a tool: Does your villain have some deep dark dirt on your protag? Don't let that all go in one swoop. Let them hint at it in drops before they open the dam. Maybe they use that knowledge as a bargaining tool to get an upper hand, or use it to send the trapped protag into a frenzy because they love to watch them scream.

3.) When it comes to threats, certainty is key: A threat is a threat, but there's nothing like a threat being spoken as if the villain knows it's going to happen. Whether your villain has already caught your protag, or is in the process of doing so, everything they say they want to see happen to your protag needs to come with absolute certainty. Almost as if it's a certain warning, and not just something they’re saying to be scary.

4.) Contradictions are your friend: Nothing indicates a warped villainous mind more than some juicy contradictions. Your villain might be talking about how they're going to flay your protag's hide after catching them in their dungeon, only to throw in a subtle "but, you're probably safer here with me." Find ways to toss in twisted contradictions that also underline the crazy shit they might be saying.

5.) Mess with syntax: Unsettling dialogue calls for unsettling structure. Incomplete sentences, unforeseen pauses, longwinded explanations broken up by more unforeseen pauses. Whatever it is, keep the rhythm offbeat. Don't give your reader a chance to be able to tell what's coming.

6.) Expectations? Subvert those: Your protag and even your readers might be suspecting one thing from your villain, so throw them a curveball and hit them with the complete opposite. Perhaps you've reached a point in your story where it seems like the villain might kill your protag on sight. But no, have your villain mention exactly why they aren't going to do that, and why they want to wait it out.

7.) Mix quiet confidence and loud assertion: Some might say that the silent seether is scarier, while others might agree that the sudden explosive type takes the bigger unsettling prize. In my opinion, you can really capitalize on the eeriness of villain dialogue by tapping into both. A villain that speaks on with refined confidence before very suddenly exploding, without much warning, can really power up the dread behind their words.

8.) Sometimes, ambiguity is better than being straightforward: Whether it's obvious that your villain has a lot of tricks up their sleeves--or not--leaving things to the imaginations of your protag, and subsequently, your readers is great for building dread. You can use dialogue to make it clear that they're up to something, but never make them fully disclose what that is. They might show it instead of tell it, or it might just never happen. Either way, it'll likely have everyone looking over their shoulders.

9.) There might be times where silence says everything: You might be worried about penning the correct verbiage for your villain's big evil speech, but sometimes, silence speaks wonders. When used correctly, a long pause, or a bout of silence after your protag has said their piece can build a sense of uneasiness more than them actually speaking would have.

10.) Find ways for your villain to mirror the hero: A monologuing villain is better when they're throwing your hero's values and beliefs back in their face. A hero that believes in mercy? Well, have your villain talk about how they'll make them beg for it. A hero that believes in the greater good? Have your villain talk about their idea of a greater good.

As always, GO WRITE SOMETHING TODAY! <3

[mrs-delaney]

Hide | Chapter 13 | Viral

✨ Catch up on Hide if you’re new here! ✨ 🌟 Check out the masterlist if you want to see more by me! 🌟

pairing: joe burrow x riley carter (oc) word count: 12.7k requested: no

📝 this story is only posted on wattpad and tumblr under miss_delaney. if you see it anywhere else, it’s been stolen. 🚫 do not repost, translate, or share my work without permission. 🌻 requests: closed! 💌 want to be added to the taglist? drop a comment or message me.

📝 author’s note: dropping this chapter a little early because some stories won’t let you sleep until you get them out of your head. viral was tough to write. i kept coming back to that ache of public mess, silence, and what it feels like when everyone has an opinion except the person you need most. ⚠️ just a small heads up: this chapter contains a confrontation between riley and her ex, ethan, involving unwanted physical contact and public escalation. nothing graphic, but if that’s tough for you, take care reading. this chapter is about fallout—the kind that happens out loud and in private. it’s about what it feels like to watch strangers build a narrative out of your worst moment, and the heartbreak of missing someone you can’t quite reach. it’s about phones in pieces and the spiral of “what if.” but it’s also about the people who show up—the ones who bring snacks, coffee, comfort, and quiet company when you need it most. riley’s hurting. joe’s panicking. nobody has the right words, but the love is real. thank you for sticking with me and these messy, stubborn characters. this one’s raw and a little uncomfortable, but sometimes that’s just how life goes. i hope you find something honest in here, and maybe even a little comfort. 🌙

Taglist: @wickedfun9 @starsyoongi @amiets2 @palmettogal508 @throwaway12356123 @lilfreakjez @destinyg237

Riley's text comes through with the video attached: Missing you. Only two more weeks?

Joe clicks play and watches David Byrne performing "This Must Be the Place" in what looks like an old TV studio, standing next to a tall floor lamp. Byrne lets the lamp tip toward him, catches it gently, and sets it upright. Then does it again. And again. A simple dance with an inanimate object, but there's something mesmerizing about his careful attention to it.

Joe watches it again immediately. There's something about the way Byrne never lets the lamp actually fall, the deliberate care he gives to this one fragile thing. By the third time through, watching Byrne perform their song with such tenderness, Joe understands exactly why Riley sent it and calls her back.

"Hey lovey, did you get my text?" Riley says when she picks up.

"Just watched it three times. The way he catches it every time it tips—like he's protecting something fragile and beautiful. That's what this feels like with you."

There's a soft laugh in her voice. "You know what's crazy? Byrne said he wrote it as 'a real honest kind of love song' without all the usual clichés. No grand gestures, just... this quiet certainty."

"Dad's Sunday morning song is hitting different now. Like it means what it was always supposed to mean."

"Pancakes and vinyl and feeling at home?"

"Yeah. Except now I know what home actually feels like."

The silence stretches between them, heavy with everything they're not saying, everything they miss about being in the same room.

"God, I miss you," Riley finally says.

"Two weeks feels like forever right now."

"After this weekend, I'm all yours. Well, as much as I can be with tour prep being insane, but—"

Joe's looking at Riley's chaotic calendar on his phone while they talk. "I see you have something scheduled Saturday the 19th, but..." He squints at the screen. "Your calendar just says 'IMPORTANT DINNER - DON'T FUCK THIS UP' in all caps. So I'm guessing that's mandatory?"

Riley's laughing. "That's my very professional scheduling system, thank you very much. And, yes, unfortunately, it is very mandatory. Why?"

"A friend from college is getting married. I kind of decided last minute to go, and I wanted to see if you could break away."

There's a pause, and when Riley speaks again, her tone has shifted. "You want me to come with you? To a wedding?"

"Yeah. I know it's short notice, but... yeah. I want you there."

Riley's voice gets quieter, clearly torn. "Joe, I... God, I wish I could. We finally got this meeting with Ticketmaster. We've been trying to get in the room with them for months to talk about pricing structures, making sure our fans can actually afford tickets. It's me, the guys, Gwen, Haley, our whole team, everyone's been preparing for weeks."

Joe's understanding is immediate. "Right. No, I get it. That's huge. You can't bail on your whole team."

"I really wish I could, though. I want to meet your friends, I want to be your plus-one at things like this..."

"It's okay, Birdie. Really. This matters."

"The next wedding. Or whatever. I'll make sure I'm free."

"Deal."

"How are you feeling about tomorrow? Last preseason game."

"I'm just ready for the season to start," Joe says. "Preseason feels like... practice with an audience."

"I've been watching all the games," Riley says, her voice softer. "This will be the first season I actually care about football."

Joe feels something shift in his chest. "Yeah?"

"The Dolls are trying to talk me into starting a fantasy football team, except none of us know anything about football, so it would be based purely on vibes. Like, who has the best name or looks good in their uniform."

Joe's laughing now. "That's the worst fantasy strategy I've ever heard."

"Hey, vibes are important. I bet we'd do better than you think."

"You absolutely would not."

"Rude. I'm not asking for your help anymore."

"Good, because I wasn't planning to help."

"Well, now you're definitely not invited to our draft party."

Neither of them says it out loud, but they both feel it—how little time they'll actually have once both their careers kick into high gear, how Joe asking her to come with him, wanting her to meet his friends, feels like the kind of step forward that makes her having to say no sting more than a simple scheduling conflict should.

"How's tour prep going?" Joe asks, and Riley can hear the shift in his voice, more serious now, genuinely asking.

"Exhausting. We're rehearsing like twelve hours a day. Pete's being a perfectionist about the setlist, Andy keeps changing his guitar setup, and Daniel..." Riley pauses. "Actually, Daniel's been the only sane one, which is terrifying."

"When do you leave?"

"Three weeks after the season starts. So we'll have, what, a few scattered visits before I'm gone for two months?"

The weight of that settles between them, how little time they'll actually have before she disappears on tour.

* * *

Joe sends the text as he pulls into the venue parking lot, still humming "This Must Be the Place" under his breath. The song has been stuck in his head since Riley sent that video, and he can't shake the image of David Byrne catching that lamp every time it tips, protecting something beautiful.

Walking into the reception, he's immediately hit with the familiar chaos of former teammates reuniting. Justin Hilliard's wedding has drawn half their old Ohio State defense, and Joe can already hear someone recounting a legendary practice story from their sophomore year.

"Burrow!"

He turns to see one of his former teammates approaching with a drink. "Man, I was wondering if you'd actually show up."

"Last-minute decision," Joe says. "Couldn't miss Justin getting married."

"Where's the girl? Zac said you took them all to her show in LA. We've all been dying to meet her."

Joe takes a sip of his drink, deflecting with the ease of someone who's had this conversation before. "She's working. Big meeting she couldn't get out of."

"She real though?"

"Very real."

Joe's voice carries a certainty that makes his teammate look at him twice. Before he can ask more, someone calls his name from across the room.

"I want to hear more about this later," he says before disappearing into the crowd.

Joe finds himself smiling as he heads toward the bar, thinking about Riley explaining fantasy football based on vibes to a room full of people who've probably never heard of half the players.

* * *

Joe's halfway through his second drink when he hears a familiar voice behind him.

"Hey, stranger."

He turns to find Olivia approaching, looking genuinely happy to see him. She's wearing a soft blue dress that brings out the color of her eyes; she looks beautiful.

"Livi. Hey." Joe smiles, and it's easy. No awkwardness, just two people who used to know each other well. "You look good."

"Thanks. You, too." She signals the bartender for a wine. "I heard you might be here. Justin said you RSVPed last minute."

"Yeah, decided I needed to get out of Cincinnati for a day." He takes a sip of his drink. "How've you been?"

"Good. Really good, actually. I moved to Nashville a few months ago."

"Nashville? That's a change."

"My boyfriend's in music production. The move just made sense." She accepts her wine from the bartender. "Speaking of... I heard through the grapevine you're seeing someone. Riley Carter?"

Joe's not surprised she knows their circle is tight, and news travels fast. "Yeah. I am."

"The rock star. That's... not what I would have predicted for you," Olivia says, but she's smiling. "But you look good. Really good. Not just successful, like you're actually enjoying your life."

"I am happy." The words come out easier than Joe expected. "She's... I love her."

Olivia's face brightens. "That's wonderful, Joe. You deserve that."

Joe realizes what he just said so easily—words he hasn't even said to Riley yet. "With her, everything feels..." He pauses, searching. "Like I can stop calculating. Like, I don't have to manage every piece of my life. She... she makes me want to be present."

Olivia studies his face. "You know what? You deserve to be this happy without worrying about what everyone else thinks. I never saw you talk about anyone the way you just talked about her. Even us."

She's right, he has been worrying about what everyone thinks. His team, the media, and fans who have opinions about his personal life.

"I used to think that was just you being careful," Olivia continues. "But maybe you were just waiting for the right person to stop being careful with."

Joe looks at her, this person who knew him for years, whom he loved just differently. "You know I loved you, right? What we had was real."

"I know." Olivia's smile is gentle and understanding. "But this is different. I can hear it in your voice. See it in your face. You're not holding anything back with her."

Joe nods, feeling better. It's good to hear that from someone who knew him before, who can see the difference. "Thanks for saying that."

"Now tell me about the Nashville guy," Joe says, genuinely interested. "Music production?"

"Nick. We met on Raya, actually." Olivia laughs. "I know, I know, dating apps. But he's really great. Works with a lot of country artists, and he's got this studio in his house that's just incredible. He's been teaching me about music production and all that technical stuff I never knew anything about."

"Funny how we both ended up with musicians, in our own way," Olivia says with a smile.

"I guess we have a type we didn't know about."

"Right? And Nashville is..." She pauses, searching for words. "It feels like home in a way that Cincinnati never did. Even though I loved my time here."

Joe nods, understanding exactly what she means about finding that feeling of home.

Before he can respond, a woman with a camera approaches them. "Excuse me, would you mind if I got a quick photo?"

Joe and Olivia exchange a glance. It's innocent enough, and they are comfortable together in the way that only people who've genuinely moved on can be.

"Sure," Olivia says easily.

They pose naturally, Joe's arm around Olivia's shoulders, both of them genuinely happy. Joe is thinking about Riley and how talking to Olivia has clarified something for him, while Olivia is clearly content with her new life in Nashville. The photographer snaps a few shots.

"Perfect! Thanks so much," the photographer says before moving on to capture other moments.

The rest of the reception passes in a blur of congratulations to Justin, catching up with old teammates, and the easy rhythm of people who've known each other for years. Joe finds himself relaxed in a way he hasn't been in a long time at events like this. Usually, he's calculating how long to stay, who might be watching, and what the optics are of every conversation.

Tonight feels different. When Eli asks about Riley, Joe finds himself describing how she processes the world through music, how she's taught him that not everything needs to be planned. When another teammate jokes about meeting her, Joe realizes he's tired of compartmentalizing, tired of treating his relationship like classified information.

* * *

Joe's barely out of the parking lot when he reaches for his phone to call Riley, then remembers she's probably still at her ticketmaster dinner. He settles for sending a quick text: The Wedding was good, missing you. Call me when you're done?

The drive back to Cincinnati gives him time to think, and Olivia's words keep circling back: You deserve to be this happy without worrying about what everyone else thinks.

She's right. He's spent so much energy managing how things look, being careful about who he's seen with, when, and where. Keeping Riley compartmentalized is not because he's ashamed of her, but because he's been protecting himself. Protecting the image he's built, the careful brand of being uncontroversial.

But sitting in that reception, talking about Riley with people who've known him since before any of this shit mattered, Joe realizes he's tired of protection. He's tired of having something good, something real, and treating it like a secret that needs to be managed.

Riley's not a problem to be solved or a risk to be calculated. She's the person who makes him feel most like himself. And it's time to stop hiding that.

By the time he pulls into his driveway, Joe's made a decision. He wants to go public, not with some grand announcement or orchestrated photo op, just by living their life together without constantly looking over his shoulder.

He wants to bring her to events. Wants to stop cropping her out of his world. Wants to introduce her as his girlfriend without it feeling like he's revealing state secrets.

Joe sits in his car for a moment, engine off, thinking about Riley in that industry meeting, fighting for her fans to have affordable tickets. She's not hiding who she is or what she stands for. Maybe it's time he learned something from that.

He checks his phone one more time, but there is no response from Riley yet. She's probably still in meetings, still fighting for what she believes is right.

Tomorrow he'll call his team and tell them he's done being so careful. Tonight, he'll wait for her call and figure out how to tell the woman he loves that he's ready to love her out loud.

* * *

The private dining room at Republique is understatedly elegant, featuring exposed brick, soft lighting, and a setting where million-dollar deals are often made over wine and small plates. Riley sits across from three Ticketmaster executives, her team flanking her like a well-oiled machine. The leather-bound presentation Gwen had their team prepare sits open between them, charts and data points highlighting everything they've spent weeks perfecting.

"What we're proposing isn't radical," Riley says, leaning forward slightly. "We want to eliminate dynamic pricing entirely for our tour. Set a hard cap on face value tickets and stick to it."

The lead executive, a woman named Janet, nods thoughtfully as she flips through their proposal. "The numbers you're showing here, you're talking about leaving significant revenue on the table."

"We're willing to take that hit," Pete chimes in from Riley's right. "Our fans shouldn't have to choose between rent and seeing us live."

Andy, usually the wildcard, is completely dialed in tonight. "We've run the projections. Even with reduced ticket prices, we expect to sell out every venue. The loyalty that builds is worth more than surge pricing."

Riley watches Janet's face carefully. "Look, we know surge pricing works for you. Supply and demand, market forces, all that. But our fans aren't commodities. They're teenagers saving up from part-time jobs. They're parents who budget for months to take their kids to a show."

Daniel clears his throat. “Honestly, the numbers are clear, price caps make people happier, and there’s way less drama with customer service. Fans stick around. It works.”

Haley slides a tablet across the table, showing their social media analytics. "Rambles fans trust us because we've never treated them like ATMs. This keeps that relationship intact."

"And the bot management?" another executive asks.

"That's where we need your help," Gwen says smoothly. "Better verification systems, improved queuing technology. We're not asking you to work for free, we're asking you to work with us."

Riley can feel the energy in the room shifting. "On resale and scalpers, we want aggressive monitoring. Any ticket being sold for more than face value plus fees gets flagged immediately. We'll promote official resale only."

Janet closes the presentation and looks at her colleagues. "This is... actually more comprehensive than most artists bring us."

"Because most artists don't spend months researching every aspect of fan experience," Riley says with a slight smile. "We do our homework."

"I can see that." Janet's expression is impressed, maybe even a little surprised. "The revenue projections are conservative but realistic. And the fan retention data is compelling."

Riley feels the familiar rush of being in her element, passionate, prepared, fighting for something that matters. This is what she does best: taking care of her people.

"So what do you think?" she asks. "Can we make this work?"

Janet exchanges glances with her team before turning back to Riley. "I think we can definitely work with this framework. There are some details to iron out, but the core concept... It's doable."

Riley tries to keep her expression professional, but she can feel Pete's excitement radiating beside her. They did it. After months of preparation, they actually did it.

"That's incredible," Gwen says, speaking for all of them. "When can we expect a formal response?"

"Give us a week to run this through our systems people," Janet says. "But I'm optimistic."

As they start gathering their materials, Riley feels a deep satisfaction settling in her chest. This is exactly why she does this, not for the money or the fame, but for moments like these, where she can actually make a difference for the people who support her.

"Should we celebrate?" Haley asks, grinning. "This calls for another bottle of wine."

"Absolutely," Riley says, settling back into her chair. "We earned this."

The conversation shifts from business to celebration as they order another round and toast their success. Pete tells stories about their early days playing venues where tickets cost five dollars. Andy makes increasingly ridiculous suggestions for victory celebrations. Daniel, emboldened by wine and success, actually cracks jokes.

Riley feels loose and happy in a way she hasn't in weeks. Tour prep has been stressful, with the constant rehearsals and pressure building toward their first show. But tonight reminds her why it's all worth it, these people, this work, this ability to fight for what matters.

* * *

After the Ticketmaster executives leave with promises to follow up within the week, Riley and her team stay behind to properly celebrate. The adrenaline from the successful meeting has them all buzzing with energy.

"I can't believe they actually went for it," Pete says, shaking his head in amazement. "The whole thing caps, bot management, resale monitoring."

"Did you see Janet's face when we showed her the fan retention data?" Andy grins. "She looked like we'd just presented her with the holy grail of customer satisfaction."

Riley takes a sip of her wine, feeling genuinely proud. "Three months of research and number-crunching. Worth every spreadsheet Gwen made me review."

"Every boring conference call with data analysts," Gwen adds with a laugh.

Daniel, who’s been quietly glowing all evening, finally speaks up. “This is the kind of thing that actually makes a difference for the fans. It’s huge.”

"That's the point," Riley says simply. "We've got a platform, we might as well use it for something good."

They spend another twenty minutes rehashing the meeting, analyzing every response, getting giddy over the implications. Riley feels the warm buzz of wine and success, surrounded by people who've become family over the years of building this together.

"Alright," Gwen finally says, checking her watch. "I should head out. Early morning tomorrow."

"Same," Haley agrees. "This was amazing, though. Really amazing."

As they settle the bill and start gathering their things, Riley feels loose and happy in a way she hasn’t in weeks. She wants to hold onto this feeling when tour prep ramps up again, wants to remember that all the stress is for nights like this, moments that make the hard parts worth it.

They're walking toward the restaurant's exit, still talking and laughing, when Riley spots a familiar figure at the bar. Her stomach drops instantly.

Ethan Mills is slumped over a whiskey, clearly several drinks past his limit. His hair is disheveled, his expensive shirt wrinkled, and even from across the room, Riley can tell he's not just drunk, he's obliterated.

"Shit," she mutters under her breath.

Pete follows her gaze and immediately tenses. "Is that—"

"Yeah." Riley's mind is already calculating. Exit strategies. How to get past him without being seen. "Let's just go. Quickly."

But it's too late. Ethan's head lifts, and his unfocused eyes land directly on her. A slow, unpleasant smile spreads across his face as he slides off his barstool with the unsteady determination of someone very drunk with an agenda.

"Riley fucking Carter," Ethan calls out, loud enough that several other diners turn to look. "Look what the cat dragged in."

Riley's team immediately shifts into protective formation around her, but she puts a hand on Pete's arm. "It's fine. Let me handle this."

Ethan stumbles toward them, and the smell of whiskey hits her before he even opens his mouth again. “Word is Riley’s got herself a quarterback now. That's cute."

Riley's blood runs cold. "How do you—"

"Oh, come on, babe. You didn't get all our friends to yourself in the breakup." Ethan's words are slurred but pointed. "People talk. Even when y'all are trying to keep it quiet."

"Ethan, you need to go home," Riley says calmly, though her heart is racing. "Call someone."

"Don't tell me what to do." His voice grows louder and more aggressive. "You always think you know better than everyone else, don't you? Think you're so fucking perfect now."

Andy steps forward. "Dude, back off."

"Oh, the cavalry," Ethan sneers. "Still need your little boyfriend to fight your battles, Riley?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Riley says firmly. "And I don't need anyone to fight anything. You're drunk. Go home."

But Ethan's not done. "So what, you're too good for musicians now? Gotta upgrade to America's golden boy? Hope he likes surprises, never a dull moment with you, right?"

"That's enough," Pete cuts him off.

Riley can feel the eyes of other restaurant patrons on them now. This is exactly what she was trying to avoid: a scene, drama, the kind of spectacle that follows her around like a shadow from their toxic relationship.

"I'm leaving," she says simply, turning toward the exit.

That's when Ethan's hand shoots out and grabs her wrist, pulling her back toward him.

"Don't walk away from me," he hisses, his grip tight enough to hurt.

Riley jerks her arm free, her face flashing with anger and something that looks like fear. In that split second, with phones already recording and cameras flashing, the optics are all wrong; it seems like she's the aggressor, as if she pushed him, as if she's the one causing problems.

"Don't ever touch me again," she says, her voice shaking with fury.

But the damage is already done. The photos are already taken. And by tomorrow morning, the headlines will paint her as the unstable ex attacking her former boyfriend at an upscale restaurant.

Riley doesn't know this yet. Right now, she's just trying to get her team safely out of a restaurant while her hands shake with adrenaline and her ex-boyfriend calls after her with increasingly nasty comments about her life, her choices, and the quarterback she's supposedly not good enough for.

* * *

Riley's hands are still shaking as she slides into the passenger seat of Pete's car. The others have scattered to their own rides, but Pete insisted on driving her home, and she's grateful for it. She doesn't trust herself behind the wheel right now.

"What the fuck was that?" she breathes, running her fingers through her hair. "How does he know about Joe? We've been so careful."

Pete starts the engine, his jaw tight with anger. "Ethan's always been a piece of shit, but that was next level. Grabbing you like that—"

"The photos," Riley interrupts, the reality hitting her. "Pete, there were people filming. This is going to be everywhere."

"Hey." Pete reaches over and squeezes her shoulder. "We'll figure it out. Call Joe. He can help you process this."

Riley nods, pulling out her phone with trembling fingers. She needs to hear his voice, needs him to tell her it's going to be okay, that they'll figure this out together.

The phone rings once, twice, three times. Straight to voicemail.

"He's not answering," she says, trying again immediately. Same result.

"Try one more time," Pete suggests gently.

Third call. Still nothing.

Riley stares at her phone, feeling something crack open in her chest. She knows he's probably just asleep, probably had a long day at the wedding, but right now it feels like abandonment. Like when she needs him most, he's not there.

"He's probably just—" Pete starts.

"I know," Riley cuts him off, but her voice wavers. "I know he's probably asleep. It's just... fuck, Pete. Everything was going so well tonight. The meeting was perfect, we were celebrating, and then Ethan just..."

"Ruined it. Like he always does."

Riley leans her head back against the headrest, closing her eyes. "He knows about Joe. Which means other people know. Which means we're not as private as we thought."

"That doesn't change anything though, right? You and Joe, you're solid."

"Are we?" The words slip out before Riley can stop them. "I mean, yeah, we are. But this... this is exactly what he's been worried about. Drama, headlines, his image getting dragged into my mess."

Pete pulls into Riley's driveway and turns off the engine. "Riles, this isn't your mess. This is Ethan being a drunk asshole. Joe will understand that."

Riley wants to believe that, but something cold is settling in her stomach. She keeps thinking about Joe's careful nature, his team's concerns, how hard they've worked to keep their relationship private.

"I'm staying tonight," Pete says, not making it a question. "Daniel and Andy are worried sick, and honestly, so am I. You shouldn't be alone right now."

"You don't have to—"

"I'm staying," Pete repeats firmly. "We'll make some tea, watch terrible movies, and tomorrow we'll deal with whatever fallout comes from tonight. But right now, you need someone here."

Riley nods, grateful beyond words for Pete's steady presence. "I love you, you know that?" she says quietly.

"Love you too, Riles."

As they walk toward her front door, she tries Joe's number one more time.

Still nothing.

* * *

Riley curls up on her couch with a mug of chamomile tea that's gone cold in her hands. Pete's in the kitchen, puttering around and giving her space to breathe, but she can feel his worried energy from across the room.

Her phone sits face down on the coffee table, but she can't stop herself from picking it up every few minutes to check if Joe has called back. Each time, nothing.

"Stop torturing yourself," Pete says gently, taking the chair across from her. "It's midnight here, but it's, what, three in Cincinnati? He's definitely drooling on his pillow by now."

"I know." Riley takes a shaky sip of tea. "I just... I needed to hear his voice tonight, you know? After everything with Ethan."

"Want to try again?"

Riley shakes her head. Three missed calls are enough. More than enough. She doesn't want to seem desperate, even though that's exactly how she feels.

"Let's see if anything's posted yet," she says, reaching for her phone.

"Riles, no. That's a terrible idea."

But she's already opening Instagram, searching for any mention of her name or the restaurant. It doesn't take long.

The first video appears on a gossip account with 2.3 million followers. The caption reads: "Riley Carter's restaurant meltdown - is the rock star back to her old ways?"

Riley's heart sinks as she watches grainy phone footage of the moment Ethan grabbed her wrist. Out of context, it appears that she's pushing him, making her seem like the aggressor. The angle completely misses Ethan's grip on her arm, completely misses his drunken state.

"Oh god," she whispers.

Pete moves to sit beside her on the couch. "Let me see."

More posts are appearing by the minute. Twitter is already exploding with speculation. #RileyCarterMeltdown is trending. The comments are brutal:

"Same old Riley, different day"

"Thought she cleaned up her act"

"Poor Ethan, he looked scared"

"Rock stars never change"

"Turn it off," Pete says firmly. "None of these people were there. None of them knows what actually happened."

But Riley keeps scrolling, unable to stop herself. Each new post feels like a punch to the gut. The narrative is already set: troubled rock star attacks ex-boyfriend at upscale restaurant. The fact that Ethan was blackout drunk doesn't matter. The fact that he grabbed her first doesn't matter.

"I should call Gwen," she mumbles.

"It's midnight, Riles. Call her tomorrow."

"This is going to be everywhere by tomorrow. Joe's going to see this and think—"

"Joe's going to see this and understand that your drunk ex ambushed you," Pete interrupts. "Because he knows you."

Riley wants to believe that, but she keeps thinking about all their conversations about being careful, about his image, about how they've worked so hard to keep their relationship private. And now this is exactly the kind of drama he's been worried about.

She opens Twitter again, searching for any mention of Joe. That's when she sees it: a photo from the wedding, posted by someone named Amy with the caption "Great seeing old friends tonight! ❤️ @justinhilliard's wedding was perfect!"

In the photo, Joe has his arm around a beautiful woman with dark blonde hair and light highlights. They both look relaxed, happy, and comfortable. Riley's stomach drops as she recognizes Olivia from Google searches she's done in weaker moments.

"Who's that?" Pete asks, looking over her shoulder.

"His ex," Riley says quietly. "Olivia."

They look so natural together, so easy. While Riley was getting ambushed by her toxic ex, Joe was posing for photos with his. The contrast feels devastating.

"It's just a picture, Riles. Doesn't mean anything."

Riley nods, but her throat feels tight. She knows it doesn't mean anything romantic, but right now, seeing Joe looking that comfortable with someone else while she's falling apart, it feels like everything.

Her phone buzzes with a text from Andy: Saw the videos. Are you okay? Want me to come over?

Then Daniel: This is bullshit. Everyone knows you're not like that anymore.

Then her mom said, 'Baby, I saw the news.' Call me.

Riley turns her phone face down again, feeling overwhelmed. "I can't deal with all of this tonight."

"Then don't," Pete says simply. "We'll watch something mindless until you fall asleep, and tomorrow we'll figure out how to handle it."

But as Pete scrolls through Netflix options, Riley can't shake the image of Joe and Olivia looking so perfectly at ease together. Can't stop thinking about how this night started with such a victory and ended with everything falling apart.

* * *

Joe wakes up at 9:23 AM feeling better than he has in weeks. The wedding, the conversation with Olivia, and his decision about going public with Riley —everything feels clear in the morning light. He's ready to stop hiding, ready to bring Riley into his world properly.

He reaches for his phone to text her good morning and sees seventeen missed calls.

His stomach drops immediately. Seventeen missed calls before 7 AM means a crisis.

The first call back is to Mark, his agent, who answers before the second ring.

"Jesus, Joe, finally. We've been trying to reach you for hours."

"What's wrong?" Joe sits up in bed, fully awake now.

"Have you seen the headlines? About Riley?"

Joe's blood goes cold. "What headlines?"

"Check your texts. I'm sending you links now."

Joe opens the first link Mark sends:

"Riley Carter's Restaurant Meltdown: Rock Star Attacks Ex at Upscale LA Eatery"

The photo shows Riley with her arm extended toward Ethan, her face twisted in anger. Out of context, it appears exactly as the headline suggests: an unprovoked attack.

"This is everywhere, Joe," Mark continues. "TMZ, People, Entertainment Tonight. The video's been viewed three million times since last night."

Joe scrolls through more headlines: "Troubled Rock Star Riley Carter Back to Old Ways," "Riley Carter's Violent Outburst Caught on Camera," "Is Riley Carter Spiraling Again?"

"Shit," Joe breathes.

"It gets worse. People are already asking what you think about this. Twitter's blowing up with questions about whether you're going to comment, whether you're still together. Your mentions are a mess."

Joe's phone buzzes with another call, Bill, his publicist.

"I need to take this," Joe tells Mark.

"Joe, thank God," Bill says the moment Joe answers. "We need to talk about damage control. This Riley situation is about to become your Riley situation."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, social media is already speculating about your connection to her. And with your season starting, we cannot afford to have your name tied to this kind of drama."

Joe stares at the photos on his laptop screen. Riley looks unhinged and aggressive. Nothing like the woman who sent him that David Byrne video yesterday, nothing like the person who fights for her fans' affordable tickets.

"Have you talked to her?" Bill asks.

"No, I—I just woke up."

"Good. Could you not call her back yet? We need to discuss strategy first."

"Strategy?"

"Joe, this is exactly what we've been worried about with this relationship. Her past and reputation were always going to be a liability. And now it's playing out in real time."

Joe feels something cold settling in his chest. Yesterday, he was ready to go public, ready to stop caring what people thought. Today, faced with actual consequences, he's not sure.

"This is exactly what we've been worried about," Bill continues. "Her past is catching up, and now you're getting pulled into it. Every story about this is going to mention you by the third paragraph."

Joe looks at his phone and sees three missed calls from Riley from late last night. She was trying to reach him while this was happening, while her world was falling apart, and he was sleeping off wedding champagne.

"What are you suggesting?" Joe asks, though he's afraid he already knows.

"You need to be extra careful now. No comments, if anyone asks. Definitely no being seen together until this dies down. And Joe? Is this relationship worth this?"

Joe stares at the headlines again. The photos. The comments calling Riley unstable, violent, and a mess. Part of him knows there has to be more to the story. Riley doesn't start fights, doesn't attack people. But the evidence is right there on his screen, and his team's panic is infectious.

"I need to think," he says.

"Don't think too long," Mark chimes in, having joined the call. "Every hour this story grows, it gets harder to stay out of it."

After Joe hangs up, he sits in his bed staring at Riley's missed calls. Yesterday, he was ready to tell her he loved her, ready to stop hiding their relationship. Today, looking at these headlines, all he can think about is protecting himself.

He doesn't call her back. Not yet. First, he needs to figure out how to handle this without destroying everything he's built.

* * *

Joe stares at his phone for another ten minutes before finally calling Riley back. It's nearly 10 AM, and she tried to reach him at midnight. Realizing how long she's been dealing with this alone makes him sick with guilt.

She picks up on the first ring.

"Joe." Her voice is raw and exhausted, as if she's been crying.

"Hey. I'm sorry I missed your calls. I saw the headlines this morning and—"

"You saw the headlines before you called me back." It's not a question.

Joe pauses, realizing how that sounds. "My team called. They were panicking about—"

"About how this looks for you."

"Riley, what happened? The photos... they're saying you attacked Ethan."

Riley takes a shaky breath. "I didn't attack anyone. He was drunk out of his mind, Joe. Like, blackout drunk. He came up to us after our meeting and started saying things about you and about us. When I tried to leave, he grabbed my wrist."

"He grabbed you?"

"Yeah. And when I pulled away, that's when someone took the photo. It looks like I'm pushing him, but I was trying to get his hands off me."

Joe can hear the exhaustion in her voice, the hurt. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay! I've been watching this story explode all night. People are calling me unstable and violent. They're saying I'm back to my old ways." Her voice cracks. "And the worst part? Ethan knew about us. He said people talk, that we weren't as private as we thought."

Joe feels that familiar clench of anxiety. "What exactly did he say?"

"Does it matter? The point is our relationship isn't as secret as we hoped, and now I'm a PR nightmare for you."

"That's not—"

"Isn't it?" Riley's voice gets sharper. "Joe, I needed you last night. I was falling apart, and I called you three times, and you were... where were you?"

"I was asleep. I didn't know—"

"You were at a wedding. With Olivia."

Joe's stomach drops. "Riley—"

"I saw the photo. You two looked really comfortable."

"It was completely innocent. We just talked, caught up. She's seeing someone, she moved to Nashville—"

"While I was getting ambushed by my drunk ex, you were posing for pictures with yours."

"That's not fair."

"Fair?" Riley's voice rises. "You want to talk about fair? I got attacked last night, had cameras shoved in my face, and when I call you for support, you're too busy to answer."

"Riley, I'm sorry. I should have answered. But right now, with everything that's happening—"

"What? What about right now?"

Joe takes a breath, and he can hear his team's voices in his head. "We need to be more careful."

The silence that follows is deafening.

"More careful," Riley repeats slowly. "More careful than what, Joe? More careful than never going anywhere together? More careful than me having to crop you out of every photo?"

"Just until this blows over—"

"There it is." Riley's voice has gone cold. "Until this blows over. Until I stop being an embarrassment to your image."

"That's not what I meant."

"Yes, it is. I know this is the part where you say you panicked, you didn't know what the fuck to do, it all looked bad. I get it. But not once was it because I was ashamed of you."

"I know that—"

"Do you? Because it sounds like you're more worried about how this affects your precious reputation than about the fact that your girlfriend got grabbed by her drunk ex."

"Riley, you know that's not—"

"What I know is that when push comes to shove, I'm the problem you need to manage. Not the person you want to protect."

Joe feels everything spiraling. "I'm trying to protect us—"

"No, you're trying to protect yourself. There's a difference."

"Riley, can you just—"

"What? Can I just what? Disappear until I'm convenient again? Make myself smaller so you don't have to worry about how it looks?"

"That's not what I'm asking—"

"Yeah, it is."

The line goes quiet except for the sound of Riley's uneven breathing.

"I can't do this," she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Riley, wait—"

But the line's already dead.

Joe stares at his phone, the silence echoing in his ears. The quiet lasts maybe five seconds before panic sets in.

He calls back immediately. It rings four times, then goes to voicemail. He hangs up and tries again.—Same result.

"Riley, please pick up," he says after the third attempt goes to voicemail. "I know I fucked that up... please call me back."

Fourth call. Fifth. Sixth.

By the seventh call, it goes straight to voicemail without ringing. She's turned her phone off.

Joe sits in his kitchen, his phone silent in his hands, and knows that somewhere across the country, Riley is doing exactly what he would do protecting herself from more damage. The difference is, this time, he's the one causing it.

* * *

Joe rubs his face with his hands, replaying the conversation. Riley's voice when she said his name—raw, exhausted, like she'd been holding her breath all night waiting for him to call. And his first response wasn't to ask if she was okay, wasn't to tell her he was sorry she went through that alone. It was to mention the headlines.

You saw the headlines before you called me back.

She was right. He had seen them first. He had let Mark and Bill get into his head, had let their panic become his own. By the time he called her, he wasn't calling as her boyfriend who was worried about her, he was calling as someone who needed to manage a crisis.

The photos flash through his mind again. Riley looks angry and aggressive. Ethan looked startled, almost afraid. Joe knows Riley knows she doesn't start fights, doesn't attack people. In all the time he's known her, she's never violently lost her cool. She gets passionate, sure, but not aggressive.

But if he’s honest, looking at those headlines, he let himself believe it for longer than he should have. Or at least, he acted like he did.

I needed you last night.

That's him. While he was sleeping off wedding champagne, feeling good about his decision to go public, Riley was getting ambushed by her drunk ex. She was dealing with cameras and questions and her past being weaponized against her, and she'd had him. Three times.

And he'd be unreachable.

Joe thinks about the David Byrne video she'd seen just yesterday. The way she said she missed him. The conversation about their song, about home, about love that doesn't have to be justified to anyone else. How had he gone from that to "we need" to be more careful in less than twenty-four hours?

His team. Is this relationship worth it?

Bill's question sits like a stone in his chest. Three hours ago, Joe would have said yes without hesitation. Riley was worth it; he was worth the media attention, worth the complications, worth people having opinions about his personal life. She made him feel like himself in a way he'd never experienced before.

But when faced with actual consequences, actual headlines, and actual crises, he'd falter.

Joe gets up and walks to his living room, surveying his perfectly organized, impersonal space. Everything in its place, everything carefully curated. Before Riley, this house felt like enough: clean lines, no drama, no mess to manage.

Now it just feels empty.

He thinks about Riley’s in New Orleans, how every room feels lived in, every corner full of music and memories. The records stacked by the window, the mismatched mugs, the way it felt like home the moment he walked in.

While I was getting ambushed by my drunk ex, you were posing for pictures with yours.

The photo with Olivia. Joe pulls it up on his phone, him and Olivia smiling, his arm around her shoulders. They do look comfortable. Happy. Like two people who don't care about the world.

Meanwhile, Riley was fighting off her toxic ex and getting photographed at her worst moment.

The contrast is devastating when he really thinks about it. Olivia, who he'd told he loved Riley before ever telling Riley. Olivia, who'd encouraged him to stop worrying about what other people think. And there he was, twelve hours later, telling Riley they needed to be more careful because of what other people might think.

Joe drops onto the couch, the same spot where Riley had curled up against him just weeks ago, talking about her grandfather, her music, her fears about trusting someone new. She'd be vulnerable with him in ways she probably hadn't with anyone since Ethan destroyed her trust.

And this morning, he'd proved that trust was misplaced.

When push comes to shove, I'm the one you need to manage.

That's what she'd said, and Joe had denied it. But sitting here now, he realizes she was exactly right. The moment things got complicated, his instinct wasn't to protect her—it was to protect himself. To distance himself. To treat her like a liability instead of the person who'd made him happier than he'd ever been.

His phone sits silent on the coffee table. Part of him wants to call her back again, to try to apologize once more, to explain that he panicked and said all the wrong things. But he can hear the finality in her voice when she says she can't do this. Can see the pattern they've just fallen into—him pulling back every time external pressure mounts.

The worst part is that his team was probably right about the practical stuff. This will be a headache. There will be more headlines, more questions, more people having opinions about his personal life. Dating Riley Carter was never going to be simple.

But yesterday, sitting in his car after the wedding, he'd been ready for complicated. Ready to figure it out together instead of trying to solve it by keeping her at arm's length.

Now he's here, he gets another chance to choose differently.

Joe looks around his empty house and realizes that for all his talk about being careful, he might have just made the most careless mistake of his life.

The silence stretches on, and for the first time in years, Joe Burrow doesn't know how to fix what he's been. Worse, he's not sure he deserves the chance to try.

He'd told Olivia yesterday that he loved Riley. Said it so easily, so naturally, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And less than twenty-four hours later, when Riley needed him to prove that love meant something, he'd failed completely.

The irony isn't lost on him—he'd spent his whole career learning from mistakes, adjusting, getting better. But with Riley, every time it mattered, he kept fucking up.

* * *

Riley sits on her couch, phone clutched in her shaking hands, trying to process what just happened. The conversation replays in her head on a loop—Joe's careful tone, his measured responses, the way he said "we need to be more careful" like she was a problem to be solved.

Her phone starts ringing again. Joe's name lights up the screen.

She doesn't answer.

It rings again. And again.

"Riley?" Pete calls from the kitchen, where he's been giving her space but clearly listening. "You okay?"

She's not okay. She's the furthest thing from okay. The phone keeps ringing—fourth call, fifth call—and with each buzz, something inside her breaks a little more.

By the sixth call, Riley can't take it anymore. She sees Joe's name appear again and something snaps.

Riley hurls the phone across the room.

It hits the brick wall next to her fireplace with a sickening crack. The screen goes black immediately, pieces of glass scattering across her hardwood floor.

The sudden silence is deafening.

“Riley!” Pete rushes in from the kitchen and takes in the scene—Riley hunched on the couch, her phone shattered against the wall, glass glinting on the floor.

"I broke it," she says through tears, staring at the wreckage. "I broke my phone."

"Okay," Pete says gently, sitting beside her on the couch. "We can get you a new phone."

"He kept calling." Riley's voice is barely above a whisper. "After telling me we need to be more careful, after basically saying I'm too much drama for his perfect life, he kept calling like that would fix it."

Pete carefully steps around the glass to examine the phone. The screen is completely shattered, and the device is bent at an unnatural angle. "Yeah, this is definitely dead."

Riley lets out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Perfect. Add it to the list, right?”

"Hey." Pete sits back down, his voice serious. "Talk to me. What did he say?"

Riley pulls her knees to her chest, making herself small. "He said we need to be more careful. Like we haven't been careful enough already. Like I haven't been hiding in the shadows of his life for months."

"And?"

"And I told him the truth. That when it matters, I'm just a problem he needs to manage." Riley's voice cracks. "He didn't even deny it, Pete. He just... he didn't deny it."

Pete is quiet for a moment, processing. "Maybe he was just scared. People say stupid things when they're scared."

"No." Riley shakes her head. "This wasn't scared. This was calculated. This was him choosing his image over me."

She thinks about last night—how confident she'd felt after the Ticketmaster meeting, how proud she'd been of fighting for her fans. How quickly it all turned to shit when Ethan showed up with his poison and his cameras.

"I called him three times last night," she continues. "Three times, Pete. And he was off taking cozy photos with his ex-girlfriend."

"You don't know that's what—"

"I saw the photo. They looked..." Riley struggles for the word. "Happy. Comfortable. Like two people who don't have to worry about being 'too careful' with each other."

Pete shakes his head. “It’s just a picture, Riles. Doesn’t mean anything.”

But Riley barely hears him.

“I’m such an idiot,” Riley says, burying her face in her hands. “I really thought he was different. I thought he saw past all the stories, past everything people think I am. I thought he actually saw me.”

"He does see you—"

“No, he doesn’t. Because if he understood me, he’d know I’d never start something like that. He’d know Ethan was the one who grabbed me. He’d know I needed him last night, and he wasn’t there.”

Riley looks at the shattered phone again, at the pieces of glass scattered across her floor. It feels symbolic somehow—the destruction of connection, of hope, of the carefully constructed bridge she'd built between her chaotic world and his ordered one.

"What am I supposed to do now?" she asks quietly.

Pete follows her gaze to the broken phone. "First, we clean this up. Then we get you a new phone. Then..."

"Then what?"

"Then we figure out how to get through this without him."

The words hit Riley like a physical blow. Without him. The thought of going back to her life before Joe—before someone who made her feel seen and valued and worth protecting—feels impossible.

But sitting here, surrounded by the debris of her broken phone and her broken trust, Riley realizes she might not have a choice.

"I can't keep doing this," she whispers. "I can't keep being someone's secret. I can't keep pretending it doesn't hurt when the person I love chooses everyone else's opinion over me."

Pete reaches over and squeezes her hand. "Then don't."

Riley nods, but inside, something fundamental has shifted. The walls she'd slowly let down for Joe are rebuilding themselves, brick by brick. And this time, she's not sure anyone will be able to break through them again.

* * *

Pete looks at Riley crying on the couch, then at the shattered phone, then back at Riley. In all the years he's known her—through the worst of the Ethan days, through panic attacks before big shows, through family drama and industry bullshit—he's never seen her this broken.

"Come on," he says gently, standing up and extending his hand. "Let's get you outside. You love it out there by the pool."

Riley doesn't move. "I don't want to—"

"I know. But you need air, and I need to make some calls." Pete's voice is firm but kind. "Trust me."

She lets him pull her up from the couch, and he guides her through the sliding glass doors to the backyard. The pool sparkles in the late morning sun, lounge chairs lined up under the wide sky, the sound of water trickling from the small fountain she installed last year. Usually, this is her sanctuary. Today, it just feels like another place where she’s alone.

Pete settles her into her favorite chair, the one with the soft cushions that she always curls up in when they're writing songs out here. "Stay put. I'll be right back."

Riley nods, pulling her knees to her chest and staring at the water.

Pete goes back inside and pulls out his own phone. First call: Haley.

“Pete? What’s wrong?” Haley answers immediately, her voice a little panicked.

"Riley needs us. Can you get over here?"

“Is this about the Ethan thing? I saw the videos—I’ve been trying to call her all morning.”

"It's about Joe. He fucked up. Bad. And Riley's..." Pete looks out at her through the glass doors. "She's not okay."

"I'm already getting dressed. Twenty minutes."

Next call: Daniel.

"Everything alright?" Daniel's voice is groggy—he was still asleep.

"Riley needs you here. Now."

The grogginess disappears instantly. "On my way."

Andy answers before Pete even hears it ring. "Dude, I've been watching Twitter all night. How bad is it?"

"Worse than the internet knows. Get here."

"Fuck. Yeah, I'm coming."

Last call: Laura.

"Pete? What's up?"

"Riley needs you. Joe broke her heart, and she broke her phone, and I need all hands on deck."

Laura doesn't hesitate. "I'll stop and get coffee on the way. The good stuff from that place she likes."

Pete pockets his phone and looks out at Riley through the glass doors. She's still curled up in the chair, staring at the water. Before going back outside, he opens his messages and finds Joe's contact.

Dude what the fuck. I've been in your corner this whole time. What are you doing?

The response comes faster than Pete expected.

I fucked up. Is she okay?

No, she's not okay. She threw her phone at the wall and broke it. She's crying her eyes out.

I've been trying to call her back

Well, you can stop now because her phone is in pieces

Pete, I know how this looks, but I panicked. My team was freaking out about the headlines

So you chose your team over her?

The typing bubbles appear and disappear several times before Joe's response comes through.

I don't know. Maybe. I wasn't thinking straight.

Joe, she needed you last night. She called you three times after Ethan ambushed her, and you didn't answer.

I was asleep. I didn't know what happened until this morning

And your first instinct was damage control instead of making sure she was okay

You're right.

She loves you, you know that, right? And you just told her she’s too much trouble for your perfect life.

That's not what I meant

But that's what you said. That's what she heard.

Another long pause before Joe responds.

How do I fix this?

Pete looks out at Riley, still staring at the water, and types back:

I honestly don't know if you can.

He puts his phone away and goes back outside. Whatever Joe's response might be, Pete doesn't want to see it right now. His focus needs to be on Riley.

"They're all coming," he says, settling into the chair next to her.

"You didn't have to—"

"Yes, I did." Pete's voice is matter-of-fact. "This is what we do. When one of us is hurting, we show up."

Riley looks at him, and for the first time since the phone call, her expression softens slightly. "I don't know what I'd do without you guys."

"You'll never have to find out."

They sit in comfortable silence, the quiet broken only by the fountain and the distant sound of wind moving through the canyon. Pete knows Riley well enough to know she’s replaying the conversation with Joe, picking apart every word, every pause, every implication.

"Want to talk about what he said?" Pete asks finally.

Riley shakes her head. "I want to wait until everyone's here. I only want to say it once."

Pete nods. "Fair enough."

"Pete?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For staying. For calling everyone. For..." She gestures vaguely. "For knowing what I need before I do."

"That's what family does."

Riley's eyes fill with tears again, but these feel different. Not the desperate, betrayed tears from earlier, but something softer. Grateful.

"I love you guys so much," she whispers.

"We love you, too. And we're going to get you through this."

Pete means it. He's watched Riley survive worse than Joe Burrow. She's stronger than she knows, even if she can't see it right now.

But as he sits there watching her stare at the water, Pete can't shake the feeling that this particular heartbreak might take longer to heal than the others. Because this time, Riley had actually let herself believe it might be different.

* * *

Haley arrives first, twenty minutes after Pete’s call, with that focused expression she gets when there’s a crisis to manage.

"She still outside?" Haley asks, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Yeah. By the pool."

Haley nods and heads straight out, settling into the chair next to Riley. She pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through something work-related, creating a quiet presence without trying to force conversation.

Daniel shows up next, looking like he rolled out of bed and grabbed the first clothes he could find. His hair is going in three different directions.

"Brought snacks," he says, holding up a bag of gas station junk food. "And these." He sets down a case of White Claws.

Andy steps inside, worry written all over his face. “Okay, what’s going on? Pete sounded serious.”

Laura walks in last, carrying the good coffee from that place Riley likes and a small pharmacy bag. "Figured she might need caffeine and Advil," she says practically. "Where is she?"

They end up by the pool, everyone grabbing chairs or settling on the ground. Andy immediately cracks open a White Claw and offers one to Riley, who shakes her head. Daniel sprawls in a chair and closes his eyes. Laura distributes coffee. Haley stays close beside Riley, scrolling through her phone.

It's Riley who finally breaks the silence.

"Joe told me we needed to be more careful," she says to the water. "After Ethan grabbed me last night, the photos made it look like I attacked him."

The fidgeting stops. Everyone's attention shifts to Riley, but nobody jumps in with questions or outrage.

"More careful how?" Haley asks.

Riley explains the phone call, Joe's team's panic, and his suggestion that they lay low until things blow over. Her friends listen without interrupting, letting her get it all out.

"So I hung up on him," Riley finishes. "And then he kept calling, and I threw my phone at the wall."

Andy speaks first. "Good. The hanging-up part, not the phone-breaking part. That was expensive."

"Andy," Daniel says.

"What? I'm proud of her for hanging up. That was some weak-ass bullshit from him."

Pete looks around the group. “Her phone’s done for—smashed it after he kept calling.”

Laura nods. “So it’s not like she can talk to him, even if she wanted to.”

Riley just shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t know what to say to him anyway.”

"How about 'go fuck yourself'?" Andy suggests helpfully.

"Or nothing," Haley says. "You don't owe him anything right now."

They spend the next few hours just existing in Riley’s space. Andy reorganizes her outdoor speakers and starts playing music. Daniel helps Haley clean up the glass from Riley’s broken phone, moving quietly. Laura forces everyone to eat the sandwiches she ordered, and Haley keeps Riley close.

No one tries to solve anything or offers advice about what Riley should do next. They just stay, filling her house with the familiar chaos of people who know how to be around each other.

After Pete texts Papa to let him know Riley’s phone is out of commission, it only takes a few hours for her mom to call Pete’s phone, worried. Word travels fast in Riley’s family. Pete hands off the call, and Riley finds herself retelling the story to someone who’s already planning a trip to Cincinnati to “have words” with Joe Burrow.

"Mom, no," Riley says. "I can handle this."

"I know you can, baby. But you shouldn't have to."

After she hangs up, Riley looks around at her friends scattered across her backyard and feels something loosen in her chest. Not better, exactly, but steadier.

"Seriously thanks for coming," she says. "All of you."

"Where else would we be?" Daniel asks, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

* * *

Riley sits cross-legged on her bedroom floor at 2:47 AM, acoustic guitar balanced on her lap, surrounded by crumpled pieces of paper. Her friends left hours ago, but Pete's asleep in the guest room down the hall. The house is quiet except for the occasional creak of settling wood, too full of thoughts she can't shut off.

She strums a chord progression she's been picking at for the past hour—something haunting and raw that matches the ache in her chest. The melody feels familiar, like it's been waiting inside her since that phone call with Joe.

Mmm, mmm, mmm

She hums softly, testing the sound. Sometimes songs start with nothing but a feeling, a vibration that needs to find words.

Riley's fingers move across the strings, and fragments start coming:

Everyone says I look happy...

She stops, shakes her head. That's not quite right. She tries again:

The more that you give, the less that I need...

She scribbles lines in her notebook, crossing out, rewriting. The melody pulls her toward something rawer, more honest:

'Cause they say that misery loves company It's not your fault I ruin everything And it's not your fault I can't be what you need

Her voice cracks on the last line. This is the part that hurts most—not that Joe was wrong, but that maybe she really is too much. Too complicated, too messy, too likely to bring chaos into someone's carefully ordered life.

Baby, angels like you can't fly down hell with me

She stops playing, staring at the words she's just written. The line came from nowhere, but it fits. It's about the distance between them—not just physical, but fundamental.

I'm everything they said I would be

Riley plays the line again, feeling the weight of it. Simple words, but they carry everything—all the ways she's been labeled, all the expectations she's lived up to whether she wanted to or not.

She keeps working, the words coming easier now:

I'll put you down slow, love you goodbye Before you let go, just one more time

It's about the inevitable ending she can see coming. The way loving her always seems to hurt the people who try. The way she's learned to protect herself by leaving first.

A little more hurt won't kill you Tonight

The words feel like confession and accusation rolled into one. Like admitting she knows she's poison while daring someone to love her anyway.

Riley writes until her fingertips are sore from the steel strings, until the notebook page is covered in lyrics that tell the truth about being the kind of person who breaks things just by existing in them. The song isn't finished—songs like this never really are—but the core is there. The raw honesty of knowing you're someone's biggest mistake.

By the time she finally sets the guitar aside, dawn is creeping through her windows. Her fingers ache and her voice is hoarse from singing the same phrases over and over.

Riley climbs into bed, leaving the notebook open on her nightstand. The pages are covered in her messy handwriting—crossed-out lines, fragments, half-formed thoughts that might become something real.

She closes her eyes and for the first time in days, the silence doesn't feel heavy. The song isn't finished, might not ever be, but it's hers. Her truth, her pain, her choice about what to do with both.

Sleep comes easier than it has since that phone call, dreamless and deep.

* * *

Saturday, 11:47 PM Can we talk?

Sunday, 7:23 AM Riley

Sunday, 10:15 AM I saw the actual video. I'm sorry.

Sunday, 2:33 PM Please answer

Sunday, 6:45 PM I know I fucked up

Sunday, 9:18 PM Don't want to lose you over this

Monday, 6:30 AM Riley

Monday, 11:42 AM Just want to talk

Monday, 3:55 PM Your team won't answer either

Monday, 7:21 PM This silence is killing me

Monday, 10:33 PM I was wrong about everything

Tuesday, 8:15 AM Practice today. Thinking about you

Tuesday, 12:00 PM Are you still coming Friday after my game?

Tuesday, 4:47 PM Riley please just tell me you're okay

Tuesday, 8:30 PM Long day. You would have made it better

Tuesday, 11:52 PM Can't sleep without knowing we're okay

Wednesday, 7:45 AM Your flight's still booked for Saturday

Wednesday, 2:20 PM I'll pick you up at the airport if you let me

Wednesday, 9:15 PM Last preseason game Friday. Then I'm free

Thursday, 6:30 AM Game tomorrow. Season starts next week

Thursday, 1:10 PM Remember when you said this would be your first season watching?

Thursday, 8:00 PM Still hoping you'll be there Saturday

Each message shows as delivered but never read. Joe stares at his phone after sending the last text, the simple words feeling inadequate but also all he can manage.

He doesn’t know that across the country, Riley’s phone is still in pieces in a drawer, and she’s been borrowing Pete’s phone for the essentials, staying offline the rest of the time.

He doesn’t know that she picked up a new phone yesterday but hasn’t set it up yet—no texts, no calls, nothing beyond what her team and family need.

He doesn’t know her flight to Cincinnati is still booked for Friday, or that she’s been staring at the confirmation email for hours, unable to decide whether to cancel or just not show up.

All Joe knows is the silence, and the growing realization that she might not be coming this weekend after all.

* * *

Joe stares at his phone Thursday night after sending what feels like his hundredth unanswered text. The silence is eating him alive, and tomorrow's preseason game feels meaningless when all he can think about is whether Riley will be on that flight Saturday.

He scrolls through his contacts and calls his dad.

"Joey," Jimmy answers on the second ring. "How you doing, son?"

"Not great."

Jimmy's tone immediately shifts. "What's wrong?"

"Riley and I... we had a fight."

There's a pause. Jimmy knows how Joe feels about Riley—he's been asking about her for months, has seen the change in his son since they started dating.

"What happened?"

Joe gives his dad the short version—the headlines, his team freaking out, telling Riley they needed to be more careful.

"She hasn't talked to me since," Joe says. "It's been five days."

"You try calling her?"

"Phone goes straight to voicemail."

Jimmy is quiet for a moment. "You know what doesn't work when you mess up?"

"What?"

"Sitting around waiting."

Joe feels something shift. "You think I should go to LA?"

"I think if you care about her, you don't let her sit there thinking you chose everyone else over her."

"What if she doesn't want to see me?"

"Then you'll know. But Joey, from everything you've told us about Riley, she's not someone who gives up easy. If she's not talking to you, there's a reason."

Joe thinks about that last conversation, how hurt she sounded. "My game's tomorrow."

"Saturday's when she's supposed to come here?"

"Yeah. If she still is."

"Then you better figure out how to get to LA Saturday morning."

Joe's chest tightens. "What if I get there and it's over?"

"What if you don't go and she thinks you don't care enough to try?"

After Joe hangs up, he sits in his house thinking about Riley's voice when she hung up on him. How she said he was treating her like a problem to manage.

He calls Sarah to book a private flight to LA for Saturday morning.

Joe books it.

Tomorrow's the last preseason game. Saturday he'll find out if he still has her.

Either way, he's done waiting.

* * *

Riley stares at her new phone, Joe's messages lighting up the screen one after another. She got the replacement yesterday after living phone-free for three days, borrowing Pete's when absolutely necessary. Now all of Joe's texts from the past few days are flooding in, a steady stream of apologies and questions that her broken phone never received.

She could respond. Could end this silence that's been stretching between them for five days now.

She doesn't.

"He's asking if you're still coming Saturday," Haley says, reading over Pete's shoulder at Joe's latest message. "To Cincinnati."

Riley looks at her laptop screen, where the flight confirmation email sits open. Departure: Saturday 4:20 PM LAX to CVG. She's been staring at it for twenty minutes, cursor hovering over the "cancel trip" button.

"I don't know," she says honestly.

"What does your gut say?" Andy asks from where he's sprawled across her living room floor, supposedly helping her reorganize her vinyl collection but mostly just making piles based on "vibes."

Riley’s gut twists with how much she misses Joe. She keeps reaching for her phone to text him the stupidest things—a weird billboard, a song that made her laugh, even the fact that she caught herself watching his team’s highlights on SportsCenter just to feel close to him.

Her gut also says that nothing he's texted changes what he said to her on that phone call. That when things got complicated, his first instinct was to protect himself, not her.

"My gut says I'm tired of being someone's secret," she says finally.

Daniel looks up from the corner where he's been quietly tuning his guitar. "But you were okay with keeping it private before."

"Yeah, well, that was before I realized I'm always gonna be the problem." Riley's voice gets sharper. "The messy one, the complicated one, the one who makes everything harder. I'm so fucking tired of men treating me like I'm too much."

"And you think Joe's ashamed of you?" Laura asks gently.

Riley considers this. "I think Joe's more worried about how I look on paper than who I actually am."

Her phone buzzes with a text from—

Gwen: How are you holding up? Ready for rehearsal Monday?

Riley types back: As ready as I can be.

It's not entirely true. She's been trying to channel her heartbreak into her music, but everything she writes comes out either too angry or too sad. She needs the sweet spot—the place where pain becomes art instead of just noise.

"You know what's fucked up?" she says, looking around at her friends scattered throughout her living room. "I was actually excited about football season. I downloaded apps, I was going to understand down and goal and all that shit. I was ready to care about something I've never cared about because I cared about him."

"You still could," Pete offers.

Riley shakes her head. "Not anymore. Every game would just remind me of this."

Her phone buzzes again with another message from

 Joe: Still hoping you'll be there Saturday.

The casual hope in that message breaks something in Riley's chest. Like he just assumes she'll show up, that she'll swallow her hurt and pretend everything's fine because it's easier for him.

"I'm not going," she says suddenly.

"To Cincinnati?" Haley asks.

"To Cincinnati. I'm canceling the flight."

She pulls her laptop closer and clicks "cancel trip" before she can change her mind. The confirmation disappears, replaced by a cancellation notice and a small refund to her credit card.

"There," she says, closing the laptop. "Decision made."

Andy sits up from his record sorting. "How do you feel?"

Riley takes inventory of her emotions. Relief, mostly. And something that might be disappointment—not in herself, but in Joe. In the possibility of them that she's officially letting go.

"Free," she says, and means it.

Her phone buzzes with another message from 

Joe: Remember when you said this would be your first season watching?

This one hurts because yes, she remembers. She remembers being excited about learning his world, about having something to root for besides her own career. She remembers texting him that silly David Byrne video and feeling like they were building something real together.

"He doesn't know you're getting all of these," Laura observes.

"No," Riley agrees. "And I'm not telling him."

"Why not?"

Riley thinks about it. She could text him, let him know she’s seen his messages and explain why she’s been silent. It would probably fix things, at least for a little while.

However, it wouldn't address the bigger problem: that Joe's first instinct in a crisis is to pull away from her, rather than toward her. That he spent more energy managing the situation than supporting her through it.

"Because his first reaction told me everything I need to know," she says. "About him, about us, about what happens when things get hard."

“For what it’s worth, I think he’s panicking. Like, losing his mind a little…or a lot.”

"Good," Riley says, and she's surprised by how much she means it. "Maybe he'll learn something from it."

"And if he doesn't?"

Riley looks around her living room—at Andy surrounded by vinyl records, at Daniel with a guitar, at Pete and Haley and Laura, who've all rearranged their lives this week to make sure she wasn't alone. At the evidence of a full life that existed before Joe Burrow and will continue to exist after him.

"Then I'll be fine," she says. "I was fine before him. I'll be fine without him."

It's not entirely true yet, but she's working on making it true. And for the first time since that devastating phone call, Riley thinks she might actually get there.

Her phone stays silent for the rest of the night. But for once, the silence doesn't feel like abandonment.

It feels like choice.

* * *

X

@PopSpotter:

Not Ethan Mills and Riley Carter fighting in public again…She’s always in something messy.

@NFLFanatic89:

Why is Joe Burrow’s name getting dragged into this Riley Carter drama? Man’s never been messy a day in his life.

@AnonMusicTea:

So are Riley and Joe Burrow actually together, or did TikTok just make that up? Either way, if they are, I’d be running after last night.

@RileyCStan:

Okay but you can literally see Ethan grab her wrist in the video and people are calling her unhinged? Do better.

Instagram

@starwatchupdate:

Swipe for video: “Riley Carter Restaurant Meltdown? Fans spotted her arguing with ex Ethan Mills last night. Rumors swirl that NFL star Joe Burrow is ‘freaked out by the drama’—but nothing confirmed.”

Top Comments:

goldengoosefan: If she and Joe were together, he’d be long gone after this lol

ethanisoverparty: How is Ethan always at the center of the mess?

softvinylz: Feels like everyone’s blaming Riley when Ethan’s right there starting it.

Reddit

r/popculturechat [Megathread: Riley Carter, Ethan Mills, and Joe Burrow Rumors]

u/notanotherstan:

Why is everyone acting like Joe and Riley are a thing? I feel like there’s no actual evidence except one tabloid photo from months ago.

u/football_boy:

Honestly if she was with Joe, you think he’d deal with all this drama? Guy hates being in the spotlight unless it’s football.

u/musicrocks:

Poor Riley. Every time she gets her life together, some ex drags her back down.

TikTok

@popcultdive (duet with viral restaurant clip):

“POV: You’re Joe Burrow, waking up to your name trending because of someone else’s drama. The man’s probably making coffee in total peace and the internet’s like: what would Joe DO?? #notmycircus #rileycarterdrama”

@rileysrideordie:

[compilation of Riley’s best live performances and a caption: “She’s been through worse. Stop blaming women for their ex’s bullshit.”]

News/Blog Headlines

“Blind Item”

Blind Gossip:

“Which low-key NFL star is allegedly regretting his private flirtation with a headline-making musician after her ex caused a scene in public? Sources say he’s ‘focused on football and not here for the drama."

[racke7]

BNHA-characters in the worst light

I remember once writing a fic (it's a chapter in a discontinued collection) where I took the canon-actions of a character and presented it in the worst possible light.

To this day, I don't really think I was wrong about it, for all that it got pretty damn mean. But I've been thinking about BNHA lately and... hmm... I've got some very uncharitable thoughts.

Aizawa Shouta

I think one of my biggest gripes with Aizawa in general is an unrelated story I once heard about a recruiter-seminar.

As in, a seminar for people who work as recruiters (the people hired by companies in order to hire the people they need).

The story goes that a lecturer asked the crowd "how many of you can tell if a person is the wrong person for the job within twenty seconds of meeting them" a lot of people put up their hands and they continued "you shouldn't work as recruiters".

Because the truth is that in those twenty seconds, the only thing the recruiter actually knows are their own prejudices projected onto this person.

How does this relate to Aizawa?

Aizawa is one of those guys who's completely convinced that he's "perfectly logical". He's constantly judging people before ever meeting them (his feelings about All-Might), and then defending those beliefs with stubborn certainty of "not being wrong".

(You know those guys who can "totally read anyone" and then fail to do so, but were "totally right all along"? That sounds a lot like Aizawa, at least during his early appearances.)

And he's capable of expelling students over a single class as a "motivational thing"? This man who's proven himself to be incredibly quick to judge and project his own prejudices onto people? Who'll defend his own biases as being "logical" to his last breath?

This is absolutely a man who'll expel someone for things that they haven't done, because the "them" that Aizawa has conjured up in his brain did something bad in a dream he had last night.

Now, if you want to lean into that and make Aizawa hilariously insane about it, with everyone else running damage-control (all expelled students ending up having tea with Nedzu about why Aizawa's quirk is useful in a school-setting, so they're letting him have his crazy in a contained environment, but the students are expected to still show up for class the next day)? Lovely.

And if you want to instead have it be a systemic injustice that someone gets to finally put an end to (people raking Nedzu over the coals for it, or Nedzu finally being pushed to take steps to curb Aizawa's unjustified behavior)? Kind of cathartic, even if making your entire story be a lead-up to a "reason you suck"-speech is (in my opinion) a bit boring.

But if you're trying to make me believe that this person is open and accepting and kind to strangers? I feel like at that point you're just projecting your "heroic teacher"-fantasies onto someone who's done nothing to deserve that.

Shinsou Hitoshi

I don't mind that his motive for entering Heroics is "spite", but there's something about how he acts that really rubs me the wrong way.

I'm not going to blame him for seeking out 1A and "officially declaring war on them", because okay he's clearly an overdramatic bastard, but that isn't illegal.

It's more that Shinsou is obsessed with his quirk. He didn't get into the Hero-course because of his quirk, he's always been hated because of his quirk, etc.

Now, in a quirk-obsessed society, this isn't on its own a true condemnation. But some of the things that Shinsou is saying (and doing / not-doing), kind of reminds me of the kind of shit you might expect from one of those "anti-diversity"-people.

As in, those people who think that the world somehow owes it to them to give them a pass. Who doesn't actually work to improve themselves, to better achieve their goals, but is instead actively tearing other people down and then yelling "discrimination" whenever someone tells them to fuck off.

(The way that he somehow made it to the team-portion of the Sports Festival despite having basically no athletic ability or a quirk suited for it, implying that someone else probably literally carried him there. And also implying that he made it in by screwing over other people. Which... wow. How very heroic.)

(The way he immediately assumed that his teammates for the cavalry-battle would refuse him so he needed to use his quirk on them. And like, social-anxiety in all its glory, but not exactly a great look.)

(The way he keeps talking about how everyone else has "good quirks", even as he wholeheartedly relies on nothing except for his quirk, expecting it to carry him to victory.)

He just kind of comes across as a quirkist piece of shit? Like, if I were to make a list of people who'd give a quirkless kid shit? Shinsou would be near the top of the list, next to fucking Bakugo.

Bakugo Katsuki

Look, I've got nothing really new to say about him.

He's a kid who's obsessed with becoming a "fantasy cop" in a world where "fantasy ACAB" is like an actual plot-point. He's an asshole to everyone around him, and has zero interested in helping anyone.

He's only in it to feed his own ego, and it shows.

(He shows that he might be able to grow out of this, but to do that you first need to kind of shake his fundamental belief in his own superiority. And we're here to be mean about characters today, so nope.)

If the MLA was presented to Bakugo as an "extracurricular club" that would let him network for his future as a Pro Hero? He'd probably have joined them in a heartbeat. They basically believe the same shit he does, as long as he doesn't think that they're breaking the law (like a Villain, who will always lose to a Hero), then he's totally on board with it.

Mineta Minoru

His reasons for being a Pro Hero are about as heroic as Shinsou's, but whether or not one of them is "worse than the other" I genuinely feel is probably up for debate.

Is harassing your classmates worse than actively screwing their future prospects over for your own success? Let's not get too philosophical.

Mineta is an asshole who does seem to sometimes recognize that he's being an asshole, and then refuses to change anyway.

Not sure if this is better or worse than the ones who genuinely seem to believe that they're shitting rainbows.

Todoroki Shouto

I honestly don't think Todoroki is a bad person? Mostly he just comes across as an asshole on behalf of having been raised by a quirkist piece of shit.

He definitely needs to get over himself, but he's also a teenager with an abusive parent. I'm not going to give him shit for that.

Todoroki Touya / Dabi

In comparison, Dabi is the teenager who didn't get over himself. He's still upset that his dad tried to make him stop being a Hero because his quirk was literally killing him.

Like, fuck. I can't even really blame Endeavor for how that turned out. His only real mistake was assuming that a child will act rationally when they're upset.

Endeavor absolutely deserves to get shat on, but Dabi just kind of imploded all on his own? Like. If he was so convinced that "daddy dearest" didn't care about anything except his "new masterpiece" then why didn't he bother sending some kind of cryptic message to his siblings that he supposedly loved? Just so that they knew that he was alive? And weren't actively mourning him? Since Endeavor wouldn't care about it anyway?

Dabi just kind of comes across as a neglected kid who started acting up more and more just to make his neglectful parent pay attention to him.

It's not a good look for Endeavor, but it's also like... at some point, destroying your own life becomes your own responsibility, you know?

Iida Tenya

I've seen a few moments where Iida has gotten shat on in ways that was like... whoa.

Iida talking about Izuku getting rescue-points as if Izuku had known about them from the start, because why else would he have stopped to help someone?

Why would he help someone if they didn't reward him for it?

And then combine that with his path to vengeance against Stein.

Like, he's a teenager that's incredibly upset, so him acting recklessly to hunt Stein down isn't out-of-character. I can't even entirely condemn him for it, even if objectively it's a bad idea (his Pro Hero brother couldn't win, what chance does Hero-student Tenya have?).

But the fact that he's constantly talking about how great his brother is, when Iida readily admits that he himself wouldn't help someone if it didn't give him something in return? Which is basically the kind of thinking that Stein explicitly condemns?

Fuck, I'm not going to say that Stein is correct (fuck him), but the more I look at it the more I'm thinking that his targeting of Tensei might've been entirely justified within his ideology.

I'm not saying that he doesn't grow out of this, but like... definitely not a good look.

Conclusions

If you're giving Bakugo a redemption-arc, you should probably be willing to give one to Mineta too (even if it's off-screen). And if you're condemning those two, then you should probably also be condemning Shinsou.

Todoroki and Iida definitely aren't perfect, but they're kids. They'll hopefully learn.

Aizawa reads to me like a judgmental asshole, and putting him in charge of a bunch of impressionable children sounds like a nightmare-scenario.

(Not just because I can totally imagine him teaching someone "wrong" as a "logical ruse" that they should've obviously seen through, and getting them or others killed or injured as a result. And then using that to justify expelling them. Because "he knew all along" that they weren't suited for Heroics.)

[aunteutis]

so, thoughts on this episode (biiiig text post, spoilers for season 2, etc):

a lot of pieces moving around the table, so it looks like end of season is going to be HUGE.

also, i think the change of direction was noticeable, but appropriate: after all, a transition episode where characters are placed around for a big finale shouldn't be too flashy - otherwise it takes away from the big moments. and while personally i'm a fan of whenever electric guitars start raging, this quieter tone with a big focus on variations of the main theme suits this particular episode so much! and so great for the intense acting moments, or those short bits (helly's "what the fuck" made me cackle). ooooh how i love when shows understand pacing and know what they are and what they're doing. so, props to Uta Briesewitz there!

we didn't get a Burt+Irving in the end, and i was sad. but i guess that's the beauty of tragedy - maybe even foreshadowing?? after all, Burt is right: they HAVE TO separate and can never see each other again because Lumon is everywhere (big Orpheus and Eurydice vibes, hope this doesn't happen to Gemma and Mark). in any case, we got Radar moments. yes, i wanted them to run away together too. give my boy some treats, he just lost one father.

i feel this episode payed Dylan more attention, both innie and outie. my dude be having the roughest identity crisis and fighting HIMSELF for his own wife! crazy. and the fact that the revolution ENTHUSIASM ((not anger)) he used to have has been taken away from him to the point of resignation and effective suicide is worrying, because it has sort of happened in the background - although i do believe being rejected by his own wife was the last straw. while we as an audience were focused on reintegration, Lumon turned someone invested and ready to fight into an apathetic mess by putting what he's always wanted (knowing about his outie life, having a loving family) just out of his grasp. in between all the big plans and goat conspiracies and action, he's been sort of the show's middle child; and much like in real life, now we are jumping straight to the consequences, trying to go back and thinking "wait, when did he turn this way?". also, what the fuck was that elevator thing, they better not send him to the deeper basement.

as for Mark... he's like a beaten dog at this point. lmao. such a wet cat, a perfect little meow-meow both innie and outie. i'm SO VERY GLAD they are giving him a support network like Devon and even Cobel to get him to do stuff when he would probably go back, or freeze in anger. because let's face it, while the sci-fi element is so cool and new, Severance's success is the real, believable humanity of its characters. they're written in such a real way!! i care deeply for all of them!! and at this point, the most unbelievable thing for Mark to do would be to suddenly find the hero's courage and go get his wife and be decisive. my guy's a depressed, barely functioning alcoholic. he needs these intelligent, action-oriented ladies around, these certainties turned people to keep him on the right track. just as any of us would. so, very cool.

i'll keep Helly brief: she's been taking over Irving's revolution-leader role during the last two episodes, which i think suits her. and she's so right. what the fuck, indeed.

(also, it's been winter for two seasons now, and i feel like Jame Eagan's revolving is near. if it's something similar to my bringing-Kier-back-via-Eagan-consciousness-upload theory, it would be very cool for them to start season 3 during spring, with all that implies).

and laaaast but dearest MR. MILCHICK. YES. YEEESSSS. always going to love him. no matter what. because he has tried SO HARD to be the perfect Kier follower, the perfect Lumon employee. he has changed and betrayed every aspect of himself that he was proud of, and followed every directive, and delivered so many pineapples!!!! and for what? he has finally realized he is just an employee, and will likely never be more than that. he's not afforded any respect by his superiors, or his inferiors. i'm sure there's a race reading there, but i'm no expert or know enough, so i won't get into it. instead, my take is that he serves as THE example that following the rules and protocols will always get you the shorter end of the stick, because he will never reach a position where he's allowed not to do that. and the main reason for that is that he's neither an Eagan or the inventor of Severance, and he's willing to morph himself enough to lose himself in the company. and the tragedy is, he has been trained specifically to follow and treat these rules like gospel. while Irving had acquired religious fervor, Milchick was set to fail from the start because he was shown the other side. he was in on the joke just enough to get it, but never allowed to kick it with the big guys. so, seeing him refuse all of that was so... satisfying? endearing? especially after the whole ordeal with Ms. Huang, he was just SO DONE with everyone and everything. so perfect.

the only thing i wouldn't like to happen is him, Helena and/or Cobel getting a redemption arc. like, vengeance? anger? sure, maybe even believable. but conscious betrayal of your own god, religion and culture? helping Mark liberate Gemma? yeah, no, something very big needs to happen. Lumon has systematically brainwashed and stripped them of all normal morality and goodness, and now only mild discomfort and Kier's mission remain. they opted out of humanity with every step.

so! that was my review, i guess. if you read aaaall of this, get yourself a treat and a glass of water - i get too into it sometimes, and that was a lot (sorry). at the very least, it's out in the void now. the THEORY void.

kieers!💖

[infinitethree]

i'm

i

i'm

I'M LIKE YOUR TUBBO??/

INNITT!!!

i. this is a positive reaction by the way

*so many hugs*

i'm honoured!!!

oh!! by the way! you've been referred to by it/its by default, but do you have other pronouns you prefer?

oh and we can't forget the food.. how about some eggrolls andd pancakes?

Innit perks up as Asher scrambles into its arms, their paws patting excitedly at its face.

It beams, hugging them as they chitter at it. “I'm glad you're happy with that. You're here the most, and you– you really care, y'know? So…so, of course I treasure you. I'd be crazy not to.”

The question makes it hum in thought, its tail swishing back and forth. “Uhm…I've never really thought about it? I know I'm not a she, though. He is closer, but not quite right…”

It takes a moment for it to remember the other one. “Ah, right! They/them would be nice. Since…I mean, it was really ‘cause I was…I was always thought of as the bad parts of him. A monster, really. Something to cage and fear, not…a person.”

Dwelling on its pain about that is exhausting and depressing, though.

“So, uh, maybe…I guess I like they/them better than it,” Innit says, ears perking up a little. “I don’t think I’d have changed it without– I mean, it never crossed my mind. Thank you, Asher. I appreciate you a lot.”

They beam, nuzzling their face into their friend’s fur.

It actually catches them off guard when food appears, and they have to scramble to grab the plates without also dropping Asher. They laugh, proud that they managed to do it, though.

They squeak in alarm, having to let go of Asher– who scrambles onto their shoulder instead– in order to grab all of the food.

A pout forms. “That was mean! I almost dropped them all…”

They sit down to eat, and their other friends come to sit beside them. They hum happily as they enjoy the treats being given to them.

The pancakes are its favorite. Fluffy, stuffed with chocolate chips, topped with whipped cream, and gloriously sweet, it knows it will have to try and find someone who makes something similar.

They reply, “I’m really gonna enjoy walking around, too. I think…I think, as soon as we know everything is stable and I have just– the basics of having an actual body down? I want to go and explore. There are some groups that do that kind of thing, y’know? Uhm, some clubs and stuff. And there’s some jobs for it, too– people need places to live, and some people really like being super far out. There’s cavers, gatherers, and whatnot, since some stuff you have to find rather than grow.”

According to the gossip that Innit has had no choice but to hear, there are often new biomes, structures, and even loot that shows up. Supposedly, the newer something is, the more likely you are to find good stuff.

San, being a sucker, can’t help but baby their residents.

Innit would love to know how much control they have and if they tweak things based on who is finding it.

They also wonder if some of Daz’s favor will rub off on them. Maybe if they talk to the server like they wish someone had talked to them, San will love them even more than they love Daz.

“I’m really excited for the chance to do stuff like that, though. I know I said I'd live with Aster, but, I mean–”

They can't help but feel a little bitter about how he's mostly forgotten about them. Instead, his focus is on the bastard and their burgeoning romance.

No matter how much they want to burst the bubble, they also don't have the heart to do that.

And…it’s a risk, too. 

Everyone is willing to let them out because they're free in the timeline Aster and Daz are seeing, but if that certainty in their goodness goes away–

Well. All the more reason to weasel their way into an exploration team.

If they bond with someone there, maybe they won't need to rely on Daz’s circle.

And the more people who know and care about them, the less likely it is that they can be forced back into Daz’s head again, or exiled, or otherwise forced to leave Sanctuary.

Maybe, during the period where they’re gaining enough trust to be allowed to wander like they want, they can make good use of being in Daz’s head and make some friends.

Especially some powerful ones. Ones who can raise a huge stink if anything happened to them.

[amphibious-thing]

#not to be that personTM#but didn’t hhbomber just make a video about how citing things like this is improper#and if you do it it’s misleading your audience at best and plagiarism at its worst?#I can take a quote from any historical figure/celebrity and manipulate it to push a certain narrative#but if I cite where the quote was from then people can check that source and see how much I’ve removed it from its context#or as op said - I can just say that d’Eon hated being referred to as a woman when there’s mountains of evidence to the contrary using a#quote that’s been removed from its wider context at best. or just by simply saying ‘she wrote in her letters’ without referring to which#letter at worst.#im not saying this YouTuber is as bad as Somerton (for example) but this is what the whole hhbomber fiasco was about!!!#you have to properly cite your shit. otherwise it looks like you’re either intentionally misleading people (at best)#and plagiarizing (at worst) and both make you a shitty YouTube essayist#ESPECIALLY for queer history which already has enough misinformation floating around as is

I don't think what Kaz Rowe is doing really qualifies as plagiarism. They're not reading Kates book almost word-for-word the way hbomberguy shows iilluminaughtii, Internet Historian and Somerton doing in their videos. Certainly some things Rowe says are similar to what Kates wrote in Monsieur d'Eon Is a Woman for example (emphasise mine):

Although d’Eon wanted to be known as a woman, he was having trouble defining the kind of woman he might become. Patriarchal France was intent on forcing him to accept a narrow gender role that meant giving up his military and political career.

~ Gary Kates, Monsieur d'Eon Is a Woman p28

This wasn't really just a result of the royal decree. d'Eon really and truly wanted people to believe that they were a woman, and on a spiritual and internal level, they really and truly felt that they wanted to be a woman. But what kind of woman they wanted to be was a much more difficult issue to overcome. The flavor of womanhood that d'Eon craved was not something that would be won in the 18th century, even less so as a noblewoman. They wanted something more... Amazonian.

~ Kaz Rowe, The Chevalier d'Eon: the Trans 18th Century Spy, (17:02)

But when it comes to history the facts are the facts. There are only so many ways of wording things and misgendering aside I think both Kates and Rowe's descriptions here are pretty accurate. I'm reluctant to call this plagiarism. The only thing I think is arguably plagiarism is using translations without properly crediting the translators.

The real issue is the lack of proper citation. As you said I could say anything in a video and then vaguely claim that so-and-so said it in a letter. Sure Kaz Rowe has a source list but unless I painstakingly work my way though the entire list its hard to really verify the claim and even then I might not be sure what they're referring to like with "prisoner of war". I don't even think Rowe is necessarily lying about d'Eon describing her "situation as being forced to take on womanhood" because that fits d'Eon's fictional narrative of her life. I suspect Rowe is taking something d'Eon said out of context but I can't say that with any certainty because they didn't cite their source!

Whether intentionally or not Kaz Rowe presents things in a misleading way. For example this is a quote as presented in their video (17:35):

This is the full quote as it appears in Kates book:

“I would prefer to keep my male clothes,” he told Douglas, “because they open all the doors to fortune, glory, and courage. Dresses close all those doors for me. Dresses only give me room to cry about the misery and servitude of women, and you know that I am crazy about liberty. But nature has come to oppose me, and to make me feel the need for women’s clothes, so that I can sleep, eat, and study in peace. I am constantly in fear of some sickness or accident that will, despite myself, allow my sex to be discovered. ... Nature makes a good friend but a bad enemy. If you chase it through the door, it just blows back in through the window. “On the one hand,” d’Eon continued to Douglas, “my goal is to succeed in a diplomatic career so that I can help my mother and sister by paying off debts that my father incurred before his death. Without male clothes, how can I perform such a noble project? But on the other hand, my love for studying, my desire to finish books that I have started and many other projects push me to take dresses for working, living, and sleeping peacefully. Here are the two passions of my heart. The one moves me to the right, the other to the left. I do not know how to escape from this Cretan labyrinth.”

~ Gary Kates, Monsieur d'Eon Is a Woman p71

Rowe just cuts out two parts in the middle of this quote with no indication that they've altered the quote at all. Most notably the following section is missing:

But nature has come to oppose me, and to make me feel the need for women’s clothes, so that I can sleep, eat, and study in peace. I am constantly in fear of some sickness or accident that will, despite myself, allow my sex to be discovered. ... Nature makes a good friend but a bad enemy. If you chase it through the door, it just blows back in through the window.

Now in this section you'll notice that Kates has also left something out (indicated by the ellipsis) however he at least is clear that he has done this and cites his source (Papers of d'Eon, Brotherton Collection, University of Leeds Library, Box 6, p.66-68). Rowe on the other hand leaves no indication that they cut anything out and then vaguely cites it "Le Chevalier d'Eon to le Chevalier Douglas". The only indication they give as to the source of this quote is saying that d'Eon said this to Douglas "While spying in Russia". They do not include the fact that this is from d'Eon's autobiography even tho Rowe just said that d'Eon's autobiography is "only moderately useful today" because "much of the details are entirely fictitious". In fact d'Eon likely never said this to the Chevalier Douglas in Russia but instead probably wrote it later in life. The quote is still interesting and worth including in the video but the lack of clarity in regards to the origin of the quote is a problem. I only know the context of this quote because I've read Kates book!

This might seem harsh considering Kaz Rowe's video is pretty standard for pop history content and I do think they have some interesting and worth while points but those points are really undercut by the misleading information and blatant misgendering. If you're going to present yourself as an authority on a topic I think you need to do your due diligence and comprehensive citations are a really important part of this.

While I don't think this qualifies as plagiarism per se I do think the hbomberguy comparison is really interesting because I do think its all symptomatic of a bigger issue with video essays in general. hbomberguy gets to the heart of the issue in his video Iilluminaughtii and the perils of lazy video essays. In one part of the video hbomberguy explains how in her video How Power and Control Changes People Iilluminaughtii repeated long debunked information about the Stanford Prison Experiment that she got from a New Yorker article. He sums up the issue nicely:

this is a massive problem with media platforms right now YouTubers who know nothing about anything can misunderstand a bunch of Articles and spread lies to millions of people

~ hbomberguy, Iilluminaughtii and the perils of lazy video essays (7:45)

Kaz Rowe's isn't on the same level as Iilluminaughtii, they make about 1-2 videos a month compared to Iilluminaughtii who at one point was apparently making 3 videos a week. But whether you're making 1 video a month or 3 videos a week making a lot of videos on different topics in a relatively short amount of time means that the research is, more often than not, going to be lazy. I don't know how long Kaz Rowe spent researching d'Eon but I've been researching d'Eon since 2019 and I don't think I know enough to make good 30min video on her. Sadly its often the people who know the least who are the most confident in their knowledge.

One thing Kaz Rowe does, which is not unique amongst youtubers, but still annoys me, is that they will tell you who said a quote but not where they got the quote from. For example this quote is simply cited "Le Chevalier d'Eon".

Misgendering aside this doesn't tell us where or when d'Eon said this. Or whether this is a direct quote or a translation of something she wrote in French. You might think this information would be in the description but no there is just a list of sources not specifying where any quote or particular piece of information is from.

Now in spite of Kaz Rowe's lack of proper citation I can tell you that this quote is actually a translation from Gary Kates book Monsieur d'Eon Is a Woman. Kates citation for this quote is "Préface général de l'éditeur de Paris, qui en 1798 ...," Papers of d'Eon, Brotherton Collection, University of Leeds Library, Box 7, p. 59.

There isn't anything wrong with Rowe using Kates rather than tracking down the original source from the University of Leeds but I do think they should have cited where they got this quote from. There is no mention that this is a translation by Gary Kates. And this isn't just about crediting Kates for his work but also about historical accuracy. Understanding that this is a translation is important. Knowing when and where d'Eon said this is important.

When it comes to a quote I can easily write out that quote and paste it into google and voilà its from Kates book!

But when it comes to claims made in Rowe's own words I have no idea which of their sources they got that information from. In a section of Rowe's video where they explain their choice to use they/them pronouns for d'Eon (in spite of the fact that d'Eon used she/her pronouns) Rowe states:

They also disliked wearing women's clothes in general, as well as the narrow social restrictions that came with being a woman. In one letter, they described themself as a prisoner of war. And in another letter, they described their situation as being forced to take on womanhood.

These are some pretty significant claims so I'd be incredibly interested in what Rowe's sources are. I know d'Eon talked about disliking women's formal dress and preferring women's informal dress, she wrote; "The informal dress suited me very well, but when I had to wear the formal dress with accessories and jewels, it was a great torment for me". (translated in Dressing d'Eon by Kimberly Chrisman-Campbell) But to say she "disliked wearing women's clothes in general" seems to me a bit of an overstatement.

While I'm lost as to which letter in particular d'Eon talked about being "forced to take on womanhood" the words "prisoner of war" certainly rang a bell for me. My initial assumption was that the "letter" that Rowe was referring to was probably not a letter at all but d'Eon's autobiography in which she writes:

It was then that a new theater of confusion and glory opened before me and swallowed me alive in my skirts at Versailles, where I was kept as an honorable prisoner of war in the household of Madame and Mesdemoiselles Genet, ladies-in-waiting to the Queen, who endeavoured to have me emulate their dress, their work, their conduct, and their virtues. They had to please both their mistress, who was a sovereign, and their husbands, who dominated them. For I who have neither husband, nor master, nor mistress, I would like to enjoy the privilege of obeying only myself and good sense.

~ The Chevalière d’Eon, The Maiden of Tonnerre p16

However considering that Rowe doesn't cite The Maiden of Tonnerre as a source its probably actually from Kates who writes:

A few weeks later, d’Eon’s mood had grown even worse. “Don't remind me, Madame,” he wrote to his closest new friend, the Duchesse de Montmorency-Bouteville, “about the errors of my youth, nor the happy follies of my military career, for the problems found in the midst of a war were more pleasing to me than the tranquillity of being in the midst of the Court during peacetime. In actuality, I live here in the respectable home of Mme Genet as an honorable prisoner of war.” Although d’Eon wanted to be known as a woman, he was having trouble defining the kind of woman he might become. Patriarchal France was intent on forcing him to accept a narrow gender role that meant giving up his military and political career.

~ Gary Kates, Monsieur d'Eon Is a Woman p28

Or maybe Rowe is thinking of the following conversation between d'Eon and Marie Antoinette that Kates includes in his book:

“Madame,” d’Eon responded, “today I realize that the death of my past condition gives life and glory to my present state and to the future for eternity. Allow me to swear that I will remain a prisoner of war in skirts, in faith and in homage to the law. For faith is the first theological virtue; without it we are but a drum echo in the air.”

~ Gary Kates, Monsieur d'Eon Is a Woman p31

Or perhaps Rowe is thinking of something else entirely there really isn't any way for me to know because they don't clearly cite a source.

None of this is unique to Kaz Rowe. This criticism could be made about numerous video essayists. Its a symptom of pop history content in general where people who do not have the expertise in a topic attempt to summarise it for people who will likely never do any further research into it. Rowe doesn't have to cite their sources in a comprehensive way because their fans are never going to do in-depth research on d'Eon in the first place. So they can say that d'Eon "described their situation as being forced to take on womanhood" in a "letter" without ever saying which letter they're referring to.

[zmediaoutlet]

Happy Wincest Wednesday, Z! Let's talk married years. What point in the show signals the beginning of the married years for you (if there is a single moment)? And when do you think they begin in each of the brothers' eyes?

happy wincest wednesday, alula <333

It is of course VERY tempting to say 8.23 -- they made a promise to each other! In a church! -- but I gotta go with my old standby the best, the truest, the most wincest season: 11.

I mean, the whole constant vow element of their relationship is really important to me, but a deep part of my belief system about relationships is that weddings mean nothing -- what actually counts is the living-it-every-day part, the part where you're fully settled in the life and waking up each morning and knowing that this is what is and what should always be. It's... what comes after certainty. The first time I really see that felt in the show in s11. They've gone through all the turmoil and now they're truly together in a way not even god can put asunder. Crazy-making. The best. <3

Still, I think they come to at different speeds, as you say, but it's not necessarily in Brother A not loving Brother B but in Brother B believing that Brother A feels the same. So while Sam may say, in s2, "there's nothing I wouldn't do for you," I don't think Dean actually can believe it until s10. Which is a long marination! But it takes until then for him to not assume Sam's going to walk away or take another option -- honestly right up until Sam's on his knees, in that dumb cantina with literal Death watching, I'm not sure Dean really gets it. But then ever after -- he never doubts it once.

For Sam it's trickier. Dean's devotion is built in to the whole-ass understanding of their relationship, and it's not exactly that Sam takes it for granted but I think he kind of doesn't... think about what it means, all the way. Like, of course Dean was going to sell his soul to get Sam back, there was no other choice -- but I'm not sure Sam gets it as the choice Dean is making as much as he's thinking of it as something that Dean is obligated to do, which -- I mean, he's not wrong! But I think the understanding Sam has to come to is that... regardless of it being obligation, Dean would choose to do it anyway. He brings Sam back because he loves Sam. He has to and he wants to and there's no air between those two things and if he were to make another choice he wouldn't be Sam's brother. There's no Dean if there's no Sam. There were times Sam didn't want to hear it, maybe didn't even believe it, but that doesn't stop it from being true. So -- I think it actually is 8.23 where Sam gets it, even if he throws some of the elements of what that means into Dean's face in s9, even going so far as to say they're not brothers, as if that's how it works -- as though everything that made Dean Dean was somehow going to be eradicated by Sam being furious. Not that Sam even meant it, really. And of course we get to the end of s9 and all that's proven to be a lie, the second Dean is going to be taken from him again.

So -- Sam's marriage is right there in that church; Dean's is at a mexican restaurant with the possibility of fratricide. Sounds pretty in character for them.

[gallavictorious]

Would you be able to write a lil fic from Kev's POV of Yev's christening party? I just know Kev would find Mickey's "guess what we've been doing, daddy" monologue hilarious. And maybe Kev notices Ian and Mickey being super soft after and realizes they're actually really good for each other?

An incensed roar; a table tossed aside; the sound of glass smashing, and of fists against flesh. Kevin Ball takes a deep breath and closes his eyes and reaches for nirvana. Or for enlightment. Or whatever. He isn't really clear on that whole bit. But he's calm, he's cool, breathing slowly, this is all good, shit was the noise of someone's neck snapping, no, no, he didn't hear that, it's peace, love, all that crap, he's so relaxed –

Shit, this is hard.

Fortunately, someone must have called the police and the police must have been nearby because it's just minutes before the cops storm in to haul off both Terry and Mick. The amount of damage done to the bar is still pretty impressive, Kev sees when he finally opens his eyes with a sigh of relief, but that's okay; the Milkoviches are usually surprisingly good about actually paying for that stuff. It's one of the reasons Kev doesn't mind them hosting their parties here, in spite of said parties ending in brawls as often as they don't.

The other reason is that they'd probably burn the bar down if he tried to refuse them.

Kev looks up from the sad remaints of a chair to catch sight of Ian slipping out the door, after the cops and their captives. There's this look on his bloodied face, something fierce and determined and grimly triumphant, and Kev can't help but frown, suddenly a little uneasy.

Thing is, maybe he should have seen it earlier. He knows he's not the brightest tool in the shed; he's okay with that. He's got V to do the sharp thinking, and besides, Kevin Ball ain't stupid about people. He notices things, and looking back, there's been all these little hints, shit Mickey's said and done in the past few months, and there's that thing he heard from a grumpy Lip about Mickey staying over at the Gallagher house ever since Ian came home. And okay, maybe he'd found that a bit weird, but Kev's been little busy lately by small things like becoming a father, so maybe he hasn't had too much time to worry about where his business partner might be putting his head down, okay. A man can only have so many things on his mind at once. Three maybe. He thinks he's read that somewhere. Or V told him.

But yeah, maybe he should have seen it earlier, but he hadn't. Doesn't get it until he sees them having a clearly heated but quiet conversation over by the side of the bar just before Terry shows up; then something finally clicks. Not quite into a certainty, but into enough of one that he's compelled to slide Ian a shot when Mickey runs off to greet his dad, and isn't exactly shocked when Mickey turns the music off to make his declaration.

Good for you, Mickey, Kev has just enough time to think before Terry charges at his son like a deranged bull and all hell breaks loose. Not that Kev paid any attention to that, because he's a conscienctious objector now; he doesn't only not do violence, he doesn't even see violence.

Now that calm's been restored to the bar, everyone but the most persistent drunks has gone outside to watch the arrest unfold, so Kev follows suit. It's freezing cold, the way only Chicago in winter can be, but he doubts either Terry or Mickey can feel the chill; they're still straining to get at each other, struggling against the police holding them down, and screaming blue murder.

”Get out of my house, you pole-smoking queer!” Terry bellows, but whatever hold he once had over his son must have broken because Mickey doesn't even hesitate, and there's a wild sort of glee in his voice as he calls: ”Fuck you, don't worry about it! I've been staying at Ian's since you've been in the can, bitch! Guess what we've been doin', daddy! We've been fuckin'! And I take it! He gives it to me good and hard and I fuckin' like it.”

That's more than Kev ever wanted to know about Mickey's sex life, really, but he still can't help but grin as Mickey humps the car, giving emphasis to his words. ”Fuck you, I suck his dick and I fuckin' love it.”

Mickey's always been an expressive bastard, unafraid to speak his mind. Kev finds it both hilarious and worthy of respect, though upon reflection maybe there's a few things Mickey has actually been afraid to speak of, after all. Until now, at least.

Good for you, Mickey, he thinks, again.

The cops take Terry away; the guests filter back inside. The place is a mess and the object of the celebration has long since been whisked away by his mother but that's no reason to break up a party on the South Side, so Kev alternates wiping up blood with serving beer after beer after shot of cheap liquor. Everyone seems to be in high spirits; nothing like a good old-fashioned brawl to get the blood pumping on a cold winter's night, and the story of Mickey Milkovich coming out to the whole bar at his own son's baptism party is a good enough story to last a few retellings.

Ian and Mickey are nowhere to be seen, Kev notes, and again there's that sense of unexpected unease, of worry.  He remembers Ian's face covered in blood, the hard look there transforming him from the earnest kid Kev's known since he was in elementary school and into someone he's not sure he knows at all. Ian's scrappy, like all the Gallaghers; bit of a punk at times, and way into that Army crap of course, but at heart he's always been gentle. Hardworking, and caring, and soft in the way none of his siblings were; a good kid, for all that he's gotten himself in a bit of trouble lately, though Kev's not entirely caught up on that.

And now Ian's gone and gotten himself involved with Mickey Milkovich, who is about as far from a good kid as it's possible to get.

That's not to say that Kev doesn't like Mickey. The guy's funny, he has some good ideas and great initiative; he makes things happen, like that whole rub-and-tug business (okay, so maybe there's been a few misunderstandings about how they're to split the money and whatever, but apart from that, Kev's got no complaints about having Mickey for a partner). He also pays for his beer and isn't a bad drunk, both things a bartender knows how to appreciate. So yeah, Kev likes Mickey just fine... but he's not sure he likes him just fine as Ian's boyfriend.

Truth is, while Kev's not scared of Mickey – c'mon – he's not not scared of him either. Sure Mickey's about half his size, but he's ruthless and kind of crazy and has access to fuck know how many guns (that he actually knows how to use, unlike Kev), not to mention a whole bunch of brothers and cousins and whatever he can call upon. He's a criminal, the real kind, and it's probably only a matter of time before he follows his father and his brothers into big boy jail. Kev doesn't judge – you do what you need to get by, and it's bad practise for a barkeep to look down at his patrons anyway – but he can't help but wonder what it'll mean for a kid like Ian to get caught up in all that hardcore Milkovich madness.

For one, he's not sure gentleness can survive it very long, and he'd hate to see Ian lose that kind heart of his; hate to see him freeze and harden. He'd hate to see him give up on his dreams too, though maybe it's too late for that already, 'cause of what happened with the Army and that helicopter...

It occurs to Kev that Ian ran away just after Mickey married Svetlana.

Oh, shit. This must have been going on for years. Gallaghers have always been attracted to trouble, Kev supposes. He tries to stay out of it, for the most part. Live and let live – and let V be the one to make the off-hand judgemental comments or give it to someone straight if need be. Sure, Kev's been there to throw some advice Lip's way when Lip's been particularly stubborn about something or someone, but there's no way he's getting involved in this. Word got back to Mickey that Kev had tried to meddle in his love life, no talk of peace and love and overflowing plates of cabbage would save him from a bullet to the head, and his kids are not gonna grow up without a father.

It'll probably be fine anyway. Not like he begrudges Mickey a bit of happiness, and Ian's a tough kid. He can take care of himself.

It'll be fine.

Kev keeps telling himself that as he starts shooing the last remaining guests out.

---

He catches sight of them just a little later, when he's finally done getting the priest – half a bottle of vodka and two hookers in on his road to heaven on Earth – out the door, and is taking out the trash.

They're laughing. Through the blood and broken teeth, they're laughing. Ian winces with it, clearly in pain, and Kev considers heading over to ask if they're okay, if they need, well he's not sure, an ice pack or someone to walk them home or something.

He imagines Mickey reacting to that latter suggestion and reminds himself of his decision not to leave his daughters fatherless.

Ian and Mickey has stopped laughing, stopped talking, now (and if Kev had been an introspective kind of guy he might have paused to wonder at how easy it is to think of them like that, as one unit, as a couple, Ian and Mickey). Mickey's head is sagging slightly; Ian's looking at him with an intensity Kev can pretty much feel, even from twenty feet away and with Ian's back turned toward him. He knows he should go inside and leave them to whatever it is they've got going here, but he can't quite look away, his concern mingling with curiosity.

As he watches, Ian rises. He walks over to Mickey and slings an arm around his shoulder in half a hug, before softly running his fingers through the other boy's hair and bending down to press a brief kiss to the top of his head. There's nothing sexual about it; it's affection and comfort, offered easily.

Offered gently.

Mickey doesn't shy away from the touch. He leans into the hug; there's a faint smile on his lips as Ian pulls away, and it comes to Kev then that maybe it won't be Mickey's ruthlessness that tempers Ian's gentleness, but the other way around. Maybe Ian saw something underneath all that sneer and swagger that no one else could see, but was always there.

Maybe it really will be fine. Kev thinks maybe he believes it now.

---

A/N: Thank you for the prompt, nonnie! <3

I'm very happy you clearly specified 'lil' because yes, this I can do! Tiny little things I can mostly make happen! Might take me a while, but still. :) It was very interesting and rather more challenging that I had expected to try to get into Kev's head during these moments (though it gave me an excuse to rewatch all of Kev and Mickey's scenes in season 4, which was a delight!). I hope it's somewhere in the vincinity of what you envisioned, even if it didn't really get into why Ian and Mickey would be really good for each other; I think that's a realization that comes to Kev bit by bit over the years. Would love to see some scenes with him and Mickey in season 11.

This ficlet incidentally got me thinking about how the people of the South Side would distinguish between 'regular' people who don't mind breaking the law when given the opportunity and 'real' criminals who makes a living by actively doing so. Seems like it'd be a fine line at times...

Oh, and I do know that tools in the shed tend to be sharp rather than bright, but think that Kev is the sort to mix up expressions (and I feel the need to point this out since I'm not confident enough in my English to trust that this kind of thing will come across as intentional :p).

[verobatto]

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. LXVIII

It was a love story from the very beginning.

The Complex Destiel Mirrors from Bloodlines

9x20

Hello my friends! Here I am with another meta from this series, this time I will focus in Dabb's episode Bloodlines, who attempted to be a failed spin-off but ended up like just another episode from Supernatural, in which I recognized a complexity of mirrors and switching mirrors, as I called it.

I hope you enjoy the following meta, I had a lot of fun discovering each mirror and dialogue.

Ennis was the switching mirror of Sam and Dean

If you recall this character, was the one who at the beginning of the episode lost her girlfriend, killed by a monster.

He was about to get married with her, so it recalls me to Sam Winchester and Jesse.

Invaded by a strong revenge desire, Ennis had his first encounter with the Winchesters, and Sam had this exchange of words with him...

ENNIS [has apparently told most of the story]

And when I got to her... She...She --

SAM: There is nothing you could've done.

ENNIS: That supposed to make me feel better? Look, this thing wasn't human. So what are you gonna do about it?

This was so meaningful, because is Sam who's saying this words as if it was a contention and a hand on his own shoulder, for what just happened with this girl, dragging him back to the remembrance of Jesse.

It was certainty like talking with himself, and he will do it again in one more scene.

But before that, look at this...

[ENNIS enters a run down house, looks in closet, opens a trunk labeled N. ROSS. There is a photo of his dad in cop dress uniform inside. along with revolver and, hidden in box, silver bullets with something carved in them.]

Ennis was son of a Righteous Man, guided but his own disgrace, the boy will follow his father's steps. He will become his father. Just like Sam, he reacted very similar to him when Jesse died.

And now... The second scene in which I pointed Sam will talk with himself again...

ENNIS: Or what? Huh? You gonna hurt me? Kill the girl I love? Ruin my damn life?! Yeah, you're too late.

SAM: Ennis, listen. I get it. Believe me, I've been there. But what we do? It's messed up. So do yourself a favor and stay out. You can get hurt, too.

Sam wants a better life for this young kid, he knows hunting has not return.

Okay, now that we talked about Ennis like a Sam mirror, let's see when he switches to Dean mirror...

SAM: Wait, so this girl, she a shifter, too?

DAVID: Werewolf.

DEAN and ENNIS, together: Awesome. Awesome.

Dean is celebrating a couple of two different species, like shapeshifters and werewolves, or angels and humans *winks at the audience*.

Here, is so blatant. Ennis is now Dean, and why? As a tool for the narrative because they need them fighting like an old married couple with David (Cas mirror). Two characters that started as enemies, will end by working together.

Even Dean said this quote here...

ENNIS: No! Oh, hell no! Dude, he's a freakin' transformer.

DEAN: And sometimes you got to work with the bad guys to get to the worse guys.

(like him with Crowley, to get Abaddon or Cain killed)

DAVID: Dude, I'm right here.

DEAN: Yeah, I see you.

This bickery, in which Dean is involved, is developed to show us just that, mocking and bickery. Because is mostly Destiel Dynamics when they're mad at each other, or how they were at the beginning. And then, to make it more suggestive, Dean ends with this scene...

DAVID: I lost someone, too, okay?! But I'm trying here.

ENNIS: I'm sorry about your brother. He spoke about you at the end. He said, "David, I'm sorry. I didn't have a choice."

DEAN: All right, you guys can kiss and make up later. We got work to do. Come on.

That's the strawberry over the cake my friends... Yes... Two different species with some tension? Cas and Dean mirrors? And Dean asking him to kiss??? That's what we had been asking since Cas entered to that barn!

David, Castiel mirror and angels representations

David's house was representing Castiel and Heaven. His sister was the whole angels and heaven at once. She was mirroring duty, obedience to his father lines.

She was scolding David for being weak and for not taking responsibility as leader of the family.

But also she was talking about this...

DAVID: I'm not saying don't fight. I'm saying be smart. Find out what happened. And if Julian did this --

MARGO: Yeah, you'll what? David, come on. You don't want this. You ran away to be a human. You always had a soft spot for 'em. Look, you're out. Stay out.

David is a blatant Castiel mirror for his love for humanity and his love for Violet, another different species.

At the end of the episode he will come back to his family as a leader...

Margo, his sister again representing the Garrison as a foreshadow of Cas in the following episodes in which he will take risponsability of the angel to avoid a war.

Violet and Julian, two sides of Dean Winchester

It caught my attention that Julian, the head of the werewolves, was dressed just like Demon!Dean and it was like listening Toxic!Dean talking.

Then I saw Violet, and she was sweet and innocent and she believed in love. So I had this idea in my head, both of them were two different sides of the same coin: Dean Winchester.

We even had this scene:

VIOLET: Wait, Julian, stop --

JULIAN [handling her roughly] What do you think you're doing?! You're the bitch in this pack, princess. Your job is to be pretty and silent. So war, no war -- you don't get a vote.

In which toxic!Dean yells at Healing!Dean making him to shut up. Toxic Masculinity my friends...

And switching mirror again:

The classic Destiel mirror with the whole lines of the script from episode 6x20 was this scene...

(Gif credit @hefellfordean 👇)

Is a classic, blatant Destiel mirror that recalls us the first Destiel break up in s6. But hey... Wasn't David Cas and Violet Dean? Yes. But they switched. Just like this scene...

DAVID: Don't hurt her!

IRV: Why?! Hmm?! 'Cause she's your girlfriend? Hmm? Yeah, I heard you talking. Real sweet. Hell, it was almost human. Almost.

[IRV cuts DAVID with claw while VIOLET transforms into her wolf.]

First here... David is still Cas, and this reminded me to the torture he suffered in 9x09, but also it looks like the future torture he will suffer in 11x01, always Angels reproving his relationship with humans, but mostly, his feelings for Dean Winchester like something unholy.

Aaaand he switches to Dean now...

IRV: Here's the thing -- you can look human and act human... But deep down? You're just a monster.

This is talking about Dean, the monster, the Demon in which he will become. So is a foreshadow for that, and is too, how Dean feels inside of him.

To Conclude:

Episode 9x20 was constructed as a complex reflection of Dean, Sam and Cas.

Dabb swims through Sam's traumatic past, their daddy issues, and the forbidden romantic relationship between Cas and Dean.

He plays too with quotes and situations that reminds us to the first Destiel break up and the foreshadow of Demon!Dean.

I hope you like this, see you in the next Chronicles.

Tagging @metafest

@magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks

@weirddorkylittlediana @michyribeiro

@whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan

@misha-moose-dean-burger-lover

@lykanyouko @evvvissticante

@savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @foxyroxe-art @authorsararayne @anonymoustitans @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @wildligia @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-is--endgame @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha @imjustkipping

If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.

If you want to read the previous metas From this season, here you have the links...

XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV,

XLVI, XLVII.

Buenos Aires, January 29th 2020 5:17 PM

[alexiela73]

Hanzo, Mccree Reaper and Junkrat meets a girl, that is really distant, never smiles, rarely talks and really cold in general. Guys try really hard and when they're dating, the girl changes a lot - she's more social, laughing a lot and just happier.

-sigh- like usual, it didn’t go exactly as asked but in a way, it sort of did? I don’t know. I like how they turned out but they weren’t exactly what you asked for. Sorry :) Life works in mysterious ways. That and I’m an idiot, so...

Hanzo:

Dating was neither of your ideas

Genji didn’t want Hanzo to remain alone forever, but it wasn’t like Hanzo was interested in looking for a match

You both seemed similar, in your long silences and brooding, cold attitudes you displayed to others

Neither of you were very much interested in the idea of friends. Everything was a job. The goal was to get it done quick and successfully, and that was it

There was no time for friendship, or making more then acquaintances 

So the girls and Genji pushed the two of you together…

Your first date started off really awkward. Neither of you really spoke

Hanzo though decided it was best to make an effort and tried to converse with you

At first, you were having none it…until…

One of his noodles started to steal something from off his plate

Immediately Hanzo scolded the dragon, who looked unashamed and just stuck out its little tongue at him

You’d noticed and as much as you tried, you could not pretend disinterest

I mean, the noodles were pretty damn adorable

Quietly you ended up asking about the dragons, and surprised by your decision to ask, Hanzo told you the story of the dragons

His other noodle crawled into your lap at the table, begging for attention and knowing Hanzo did not allow begging. You ended up scratching its chin and when it made an odd noise akin to a purr, you couldn’t help smiling

It was that smile that caught Hanzo’s interest. It was nothing like the silent, cold girl who had walked into the restaurant with him…and it was that smile that made him try harder

Building upon the conversation of the dragons, Hanzo managed to keep you talking

At one point, he found a weak link: you had a love of art, and when he asked you about your art, you blushed so adorably, but showed him anyway

You were an amazing artist, and Hanzo didn’t hesitate to admit that

You ended up studying the tattoo on his arm, and with shining eyes you expressed your love for the intricate designs

The rest of the date went perfectly, and before the two of you knew it, you two had grown comfortable around each other, talking about all kinds of things

You ended up going out with him again, completely different from the girl he had expected

McCree:

The man always did like a challenge

At first, it was admittedly a bit of a game

Everyone knew you kept to yourself, and that you were rather disinterested in socializing with others

Jesse though figured that it was worth a shot

Who knows how, but he managed to convince you to go out and get a bite with him

The whole time his big worry was about getting you to laugh or smile

So, being Jesse, he told a ton of really bad jokes

You remained stony face the entire time, and not one of them managed to even get a snort from you

He tried being goofy, to be charming. None of it really worked

During lunch, there was a twenty minute period of silence when he realized he’d ran out of ways to charm you

Eventually though, you spoke to him for the first time during the ‘date’ and asked him what his belt stood for

When Jesse told you, you finally snorted and asked why he would get something so ridiculous

Hesitant, Jesse told you the story behind it and how Gabriel had given it to him. Honestly, it ended up getting a bit nostalgic, and as he reminisced, he mentioned how Gabriel had been probably the only father figure in his life

After another minute of silence, you admitted that you too had grown up without a father figure. Jesse was surprised by that personal information, but when you smiled softly, he could only stare in awe

You ended up mentioning about how your mother had raised you and what a wonderful woman she was

The two of you spoke of how you grew up, and with the more Jesse gave, the more you returned of yourself

It didn’t take him long to realize that it wasn’t the McCree who made jokes and tried to seduce women that would get you out of your shell

It was the McCree who was real and honest about himself and his feelings

Soon he was able to slip in a joke or two, and to his amazement you would smile, almost shyly

It was that vulnerable look and that soft way you spoke that caught his heart and made him decide to pursue you

The two of you ended up spending a lot more time together afterward and were soon a couple

Reaper:

The way you two fell for each other had nothing to do with dating

You were cold, distant from everyone else

It was because of this that no one really enjoyed being in your company

But in a way, Reaper felt a kinship with you, understanding your silence in a way most others did

While forced to socialize much more then you, Reaper preferred silence and was unable to open up to others. It was easier to drive them off

Of course, that didn't mean he tried to talk to you but it meant he certainly noticed you

Once during a mission though, Reaper ended up injured heavily

Of course his cells could regenerate the wounds quickly, but you were unaware. When you both got back to base, you practically dragged Reaper to the infirmary

Despite his growls and refusals, he did not lift his weapons and you did not let go. He’d never been manhandled by a woman, at least not since becoming Reaper, but he was curious to see what the ever-silent y/n would do

You forced him to take off his jacket and shirt so you could get a better look. You nearly ripped it off yourself

For once, Reaper didn’t fight it. He hated when others looked at him, but there was something about you that made him unafraid. He wanted you to see, and he wanted to know what you would think

As you saw the wound closing, your face showed the first signs of emotion: shock and sympathy. Your eyes trailed over the scarred, pale flesh of his chest and stomach

Slowly, you reached up and brushed your fingers across a scar, noticing how cold he was

Finally your eyes met his, before you looked down. For a moment, he thought you were disgusted

Instead you lifted your shirt, and displayed a long set of scars across your side and stomach. It shocked him, but you only looked at him again with certainty

Everyone suffers. It is inevitable, you had told him, the first words he’d ever really heard from you. But if you want, you don’t have to suffer alone

This was the first time anyone had ever said something like that to him, and in the end he found himself asking quietly about your scars. The two of you spoke, though you never once asked about his scars, as if you knew it was a weak spot

But you didn’t pretend they weren’t there either, fingers tracing each one with care.

The two of you found yourselves drawn to each other more and more, talking and standing against the world together. The first time you smiled at him was the first time he realized he had fallen for you

You weren’t how you had seemed, but neither was he. And in the end, being together was the only way you didn’t both feel alone

Junkrat:

This crazy, lovable man doesn’t know the meaning of no

What first drew him to you was your silence, and the fact that he had never seen you smile

As a man who spends almost all his time smiling, when he isn’t scrunching up his face while thinking over a new invention

So he made it a personal goal to make you smile

For days he would follow you around, try to make you laugh

He was a goofball, he was

Often you'd see Roadhog trailing behind him, worried about what stupid things he would do today

Nothing he seemed to do though was capable of making you open up or smile or even look at him

You couldn’t understand why this filthy, eccentric man kept following you all over the place

Junkrat never gave up though, nor was he ever deterred 

One day you couldn’t help glancing over when you noticed he’d been quiet for almost an hour straight. This was the most silence you’d ever managed to get out of him before

The man sat near you, hunched over scraps of metal and screws, wires...in front of him was this little red ball, cracked open

His tongue out a bit as he concentrated, Junkrat was focusing on connecting the wires

You knew he was a bomb expert and felt no fear, but surprisingly found yourself rather curious towards his invention

It took a moment to weigh the options of whether or not to walk over and look, but Junkrat pretended not to notice for at least ten minutes when you leaned over his shoulder to watch

Finally, Junkrat looked up and gave you a toothy grin

It was the first time you realized that the man was cuter then you had first noticed

To your surprise, instead of pestering you he asked if you wanted to try

Despite the risks, you found yourself eager. Without warning, the usually abrasive Aussie pulled you on his lap, and you found yourself rather flustered

Junkrat couldn't help eyeing the blush on your cheeks as you leaned over the little bomb

Instructing you, you found it riveting as you worked, and without realizing it soon found yourself asking questions about the bomb. Which led to talk of other bomb designs and some of his earlier inventions

The more you spoke, the more invested you were and the more excited your speech became. It surprised Junkrat, how into it you were

Before you knew it, the two of you had finished four mini bombs and had spent almost two hours talking

Hesitantly, you asked if perhaps he’d show you more another time

Stunned, he eagerly agreed and the two of you started spending some more genuine time together

The more you talked, the more you started to like him. And the more you liked him, the more open you were. Giggling, even telling one or two of your own jokes. You loved how he always laughed at your jokes

The two of you fell pretty hard for each other, once you’d given him a chance

[sometimesrosy]

I try to convince my fellow Bellarkers that the relationship won't be pushed off until the last 2 episodes of Season 5 or something like that because of how important its development has been. I think there will be some significant Bellarke payoff where they will actually be "together" for multiple episodes and not in the Kabby way where they're separated all the time. Like, together physically in the same place and romantically entangled together. While the people I talk to are diehard--

Bellarkers too, I’ve noticed a growing trend toward believing S5 will string together a Rellamy and/or Becho relationship/friends with benefits situation to drive Clarke into jealousy and kind of be payback for him watching her through the Finn, L, and Niylah days (since she didn’t see him with Gina or DNR Bree). I’m half-here for Jealous Clarke, but, given how fast the story moves, I really do think Bellarke will be spending most of S5 in a lip lock. I might be crazy optimistic though. But can they just have a few episodes to be Memori-like? What do you think Rosy?

What ARE the writers going to do? This is something I cannot say with certainty. Are they going to give us early romantic Bellarke? It could happen. Are they going to write pining and insecurity until the end like some sort of post apocalyptic Persuasion? Possibly. With other love interests dangled in the storyline to make us worry? My friends, that is actually part of telling a romance story, so maybe. But it IS a romance story. Season 4 was a romance story, where they promised us some sort of declaration and never gave it to us. They dangled it of the edge of our cliff and left us hanging. They left us with Bellarke romance as a cliffhanger. Pissed me the hell off. 

But we do know something about what is coming up. 

We know that Clarke Griffin has been radioing Bellamy for 6 years and that has kept her sane. Not any of the others. Bellamy. That shows devotion to him. Emotional connection. Longing. You want to call that not romantic? Okay. But then that is one weird long term daily habit.

We know that Clarke Griffin has been telling a story of what happened with Bellamy Blake at the center of the story. That sizzle reel tells us less about what happened in the last four seasons and more about how Clarke feels about what happened. And how Clarke feels about what happened is that Bellamy was the most important part of it. Now, Madi, rightfully so, feels that Clarke was the most important part of it, but Clarke has been telling HER about Bellamy. Everyone else was an also ran.

We know that spacekru will come back to earth early.

We know that Bellamy and Clarke will be back together as a team relatively soon and Bellamy will be acting as a moderating influence on Clarke. 

We know that Bellamy will learn about Clarke’s radio calls in episode 1, and that means, whether they reunite or not, Bellamy learns that A. Clarke is alive and B. Clarke has been focused on HIM for 6 years. That is whether or not he’s been listening to the messages or only just discovers she’s been calling him. He learns of her devotion to him. I suppose it’s possible that he doesn’t find out that the calls are directly to him, and maybe thinks it’s “them.” But she never forgot them. He is going to have to deal with the emotional weight of leaving her behind to be alone all that time. 

We know that Raven will be Bellamy’s second in command. Not partner. Not equal. Second. They will be a team. My opinion is that does not sound romantic, that sounds decidedly platonic, but I am sure that some people can read that as romantic and ship it. That’s their choice. There’s nothing to me about “second” that says romantic, and I actually don’t want Raven in a relationship where she is a second, but you know, ship and let ship. 

We know that JR has stated that relationships on the ark will be mutable and people will get together and hook up and break up and get together. So that says to me that romantic/sexual relationships between any and all of the spacekru are possible if not likely. We know this is a world where one’s sexual preference is not a concern and any combinations are possible. We will see new relationships when we come back to earth. Will Bellamy be in one of them? We do not know.  We’ve seen Bellamy with other girls, in romantic relationships and casual flings even multiple partners, and we have also seen him NOT focused on relationships. He could be/have been with any or all of the girls or boys, poly relationships or no relationships at all. For all we know, he’s demi or gray asexual and doesn’t need or want a relationship over the course of the 6 years. All of this is a possibility. I’m guessing his focus is not about getting into a relationship, because Bob has said he doesn’t think Bellamy is that romantic of a person. I think people tend to focus on sex and romance as being the center of everything, but for the most part, that hasn’t been the case for The 100. With the exception of Memori I think. And Linctavia, but only sometimes.

We know that Clarke is not in a relationship because there are no people there. Gosh she must be starved for affection. She’s been there before. Poor Clarke.  

We do NOT know what state their relationship will be in when they get back together, but we DO know that the relationship between Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake is the center of the show, and with the escalation of Clarke’s 6 year long focus on her hero/love/obsession/salvation Bellamy, they can not simply take the relationship back to where it was in season 1. Their new relationship is going to BUILD on what they went through together, without any of the weight of the grief and drama of betrayals, other loves.

I really don’t know which way they are going to go. Are they going to pay back Clarke for her other love interests? That would be cruel. She’s already been forced to be alone for 6 years. Are they going to put other relationships above Clarke and Bellamy? I don’t know. 

I kind of like the idea that this time, Clarke and Bellamy get to actually fall in love. Like grownups do. Without the panic of being kids dropped unprepared into the apocalypse. They’ve already built a solid relationship, and I don’t think any of that will go away. My true friends who I haven’t seen in years? When we come back together we are exactly the same to each other. We catch up, but our relationship remains true. They will be starting with the strength of their relationship, but without all the emotional angst. And Clarke will KNOW how strong her feelings are. 

How can you convince your Bellarke friends to not be pessimistic and think we’re getting a CW teen soap opera? You can’t. Shipping is often very soapy. That’s the way you end up interpreting everything. And it’s the CW so I can’t guarantee they won’t flirt with soapiness. I personally do not like soaps. 

I don’t know. So many people have this refrain “lower your expectations,” and that’s how they deal with the anxiety of not knowing what’s coming. I prefer to focus on the good possibilities of Bellarke in season 5. There are SO MANY ways they could make it delicious. Although I can guarantee you that they will torture us. Please god no more separations. Could they really be that cruel to poor Clarke and Bellamy?

Answer? Yes. Yes they can. Because they are dicks. So I’m going to brace myself for them torturing Clarke and Bellamy over romance. I think they are this time. I think it’s going to be directly romantic now, but not easy. Each season it’s gotten more romantic. And I think that will continue with season 5. I think it will be canon romance. But again. I do not think it will be easy romance. And I don’t trust them to give me the battle couple that I want, where they are an acknowledged couple and fighting the apocalypse as boyfriend/girlfriend or even married. But then again they might. 

This is a lot of words to say. I don’t know what’s going to happen. It might be what you want. It might be what they think is going to happen. Bellamy is probably going to have sex with Echo but I don’t think it’s going to be a problem of more than an “obstacle” nature. They aren’t giving Bellamy an endgame while we aren’t watching. Especially not while Clarke is pining for him down on earth. That is too juicy a story to leave. 

Keep the faith. Keep hoping. You don’t have to let the doomsayers make you feel your more optimistic speculation is wrong. None of us know what is going to happen. Any of us could be right. And if you want to be positive about Bellarke, there’s nothing wrong with that. 

[generousbouquetchopshop-us-blog]

The only thing that we know for certain in life is that all of you reading this right now and myself will DIE. (NOT tonight - I just mean at some point in our lives - this is NOT a terrorist attack - believe me, I do NOT have malicious or evil intentions - well in my opinion at least, but sometimes our perception of ourselves differs to how others perceive us - but does that really matter? All I care about is what I think about myself) Wait, Hang On I Lied. There's one more certainty in life. That you and I are human beings. (Well, I do hope so. After all, I only know who I am. And only you know who you are) Yes I tried my best to think of an engaging first liner to grab your attention. (And if you're still reading this now - it must have worked!) I was just worried with all the 'clutter' and 'competition' out there that you could potentially miss this. And yes that's also why I have the photo of a cute baby. And also because we were all once babies at some point in our lives (well unless you came out another way which is not a certain opening in a female body) And before you amazing security officers out there, Who work super hard to protect your citizens, Even on the weekend (which is meant for rest with family) (and shout out to everyone in Australia who still worked today on Mother's Day -your sacrifice of your treasured time which could have been spent with your Mother (the technical economic term is opportunity cost - in case you were wondering - yes I know you all are secretly nerds) Will never be forgotten) Ok so back to you security officers Think of shutting this down, I assure you that this is NOT a security threat. It is NOT an act of cyber terrorism. 'So what is it then?' - you find yourself thinking (Yes I am a mind reader) Today marks a turning point in the course of mankind. Today marks a day that hope is restored in the world. What you are seeing today will be written in history books for future generations to come. We will make it in a Guinness World Record Book for 1. The most number of people clicking going on a facebook event 2. The most number of people posting on a facebook event page 3. The most number of people sharing the same message across social media I know what you're thinking. Well this girl sounds 'ambitious' Which were common responses I got Well yes, This is 'ambitious' I think so too But 'ambitious' and 'reality' are NOT mutually exclusive (is this the right term? I always struggled with probability in maths) But it's going to happen - keep reading on if you would like to see how history is going to be made :) (But technically, history is being 'made' every single day by each and every one of us just be being alive - even going to the toilet and eliminating waste is technically 'making' history) Every single person in the world will eventually receive my message. (And news outlets out there! Please choose a decent photo of me [ie. not one where my armpit hair is showing] Actually, I don't mind if you can find a photo of me with armpit hair. (Yes - that's a challenge!) (We all have hair - I don't see what's the big deal) (Why would you want to see a photo of me with armpit hair when you can just strip yourself down [yes I put this in just for you - you know who you are xD] and just lift up your arm and VOILA!!! Hair before your very eyes!!!!! ) (I'm actually super hairy In my opinion For a girl) Also, I'm going to keep on ranting about this (again, PMS is a real thing for the female population - have sympathy for us fellas!) Another thing I do not understand is why we must wear clothes And in some places in the world, Such as Australia, We can actually get charged with a criminal offence (and maybe be put in gaol) For stripping down in certain public places (with some exceptions such as nude beaches which are mainly filled with elderly people right now - I reckon we can diversify that a little) And showing our 'private parts' (but are our 'private parts' really even that 'private' after all if we all have them? (well I know it differs between females and males)) but yeah - and some of us have unique bodies - either born naturally or through operations - I respect that - it's your life and you choose how you would like to live it - and which gender you would like to live as and which private parts you would like to have) And in some places like Australia, Myth has it that the bigger something (something in a similar shape to a sausage) is The more masculine a male is Well to me, that's absolutely bullshit I don't know how these 'myths' even originated! All sizes are beautiful to me! Ok, so back to me and armpit hair: I filled in one of my friends' survey about hair and shaving yesterday. Why is shaving a thing anyways? We all have hair on our bodies (well some more than others but we all do) Why is it often socially unacceptable for girls have to have cleanly shaven armpits when they wear sleeveless tops or dresses? And why is often socially acceptable for males to not shave?? Now that is gender discrimination to the max! Why is this NOT written in the Discrimination Act in Australia?? (or maybe it is - I have to admit I haven't read it - and I highly doubt that my fellow Australian peers have either - but apologies! If it is in there!) And on that note of Discrimination, It is so real And close It still happens today in the 21st century!!! Right here in Australia This week, I had the privilege of talking to a beautiful Indigenous lady I've always been curious of Indigenous Australian culture (do you know that Indigenous Australian culture is the oldest surviving culture in the entire world???) WOW Because I certainly didn't know this. If Australia was a person And let's just say I was that person for theoretical purposes I would go around showing that off I would tell everyone I would tell the entire world I would be super proud of that I would make sure the entire world knows (but why doesn't the entire world know?- well maybe it's only me who is oblivious and ignorant and unaware - and maybe all of you do know this - please correct me if I'm wrong) Ok, so yeah. This beautiful Indigenous lady (and I do remember your name - I just want to make sure I respect your privacy before I decide to put your name here for the world to see because there's no way that I have been able to contact you) Said her dream was to become a cook (yes you go girl!) And she applied for a cook job recently. She was called in for an interview. But as soon as she showed up, They told her the position had been filled Now if that isn't discrimination to the max, I don't know what you call that I was super angry when I heard this. Now those of you who know me know that I don't normally get angry It takes quite a bit to get Leeann angry (I give off the impression of being a calm, controlled, sweet, pure and innocent girl) If I was present at the time, I would've taken those café owner(s) to court. And sue you for breaching the Discrimination Act Because the legislation is real and it is properly enforced (well I don't work in the legal field so I actually wouldn't know) But nothing in the world (I believe) cannot be resolved with Honest and open Communication. Just by opening our mouths and making some sounds (I think that's what we call a language), Together, we can solve any problem And we must learn to be accountable And take responsibility for our own actions Like a girl (why do we tend to say man? Are we trying to imply that females are less brave than men? My fellow female population Let's band together and prove them wrong -Trust me boys, you never mess with girls, We will make sure You Rue For The Rest Of Your Life Until The Moment You Die :) [just kidding XD- no I'm not kidding here] Yes, we must take responsibility for our own actions like a girl (I remember seeing a campaign trying to challenge gender stereotypes a couple of years back - that was awesome! I forgot what it was called though but I do remember it so it means it was effective) And I will illustrate this with something we all do -fart. Why do we feel the need to suppress our urges to fart? If you stink up a room with your own smelly gas, Then at least do it proudly! Make it as loud as possible! And admit it was you! And apologise maybe! OR, if that's too scary for you, I have another suggestion which has largely been inspired by one of my close mates (who I'm sure would probably appreciate it if I don't name and shame them - your very welcome in advance =D) This is no magic but You simply tell the person you're talking to or the people around you that you need to fart And head outside To do the deed. Then walk back in. And continue with your life. Easy. See, life isn't at all that complicated is it? (I know! I'm a genius!!!) Prior to my launch tonight, I shared my initiative 'Die To Live' with some fellow peers. I had many people who doubted me. But I also had many people who had absolute faith. Now, I don't blame those of you who I spoke to and doubted me. If someone told me that at Sunday 9pm on the 13th of May, 2018, Hope will be restored in the world, That the world will be changed And that it will be a major event in history, I will look at them And think they're nuts! (And no, in case you were wondering, I don't mean the pecan nut, macadamia nut, or peanut) And some of these people also looked like they wanted to lock me up in a mental health hospital. But what does it even mean to be 'mentally ill?' Am I considered 'crazy' just because I have different opinions that nobody else seems to have? Does that make me 'mentally ill?' (Correct me if I'm wrong, but in my humble opinion, that just means I'm a human being) While we're on the topic of 'mental illness,' Check out the School of Life and one of their recent videos Called something along the lines of - why the modern society makes us mentally ill I watched it over breakfast yesterday and could not agree more (i promise that this is not paid advertising/product placement or whatever we choose to call it) Because it's so good that I voluntarily choose to 'advertise' for them The School of Life does not need any paid marketing (yes you girls are awesome!) But at the same time, Yes, I get you. I wouldn't believe it either Until I see it unfold Before my very eyes Myself. But I certainty would not lock someone with different thoughts to mine in a mental health hospital, away from the rest of society. I would simply respect their opinion, try to understand and empathise from their point of view and then move on with my life. And I also had one special 'case.' You know who you are. You're the person I bumped into and didn't think I was 'insane' but instead thought I was plotting to commit suicide at 9pm Sunday May 13th and then upload 13 videos onto Facebook with each video incriminating a different person who lead me to end my life. -Just like the TV series - 13 reasons why Oh you funny!! (but I'm even funnier xD) But you had faith in me and that's all that matters :D Life is NOT a Television series!!! (For those of you who don't know what a TV is - it is essentially a virtual reality -trust me though, it's nothing special - and you're not missing out - because you're living your own reality instead - and I believe that is infinite times cooler than watching someone else's) But what I don't understand is why some of you who doubted me had absolute faith in science. (I'm not throwing shade here [or am I? - well too bad too sad because you'll never know what goes through my mind] but Shout out to that person I had an extremely heated intense friendly 2 hour banter sesh about science and religion a couple of days ago) Those words you used cut me But I forgive you Because I know you didn't mean it Because, in my humble opinion, science is a belief system in itself based off faith. For example, most of us in today's era believe that the Earth is round. And this is 'proven' to us through science. But until I personally travel up into space and view the Earth from a distance with my own very eyes, I refuse to believe this as an absolute 'truth.' (but even then, I may not even trust my own eyes - they could be lying to me - I could just be hallucinating) We often like to think we are 100% certain of many things in our everyday lives. Perhaps uncertainty makes us feel uneasy. In my opinion, we dislike uncertainty. Which is why we try to structure our lives and lock ourselves in some kind of routine to try and eliminate uncertainty (but this is simply NOT possible in my opinion - the only certainty in life is death - but even that's not even certain) Who said we should eat 3 meals a day - Breakfast Lunch And Dinner (for those of you who don't know what I'm rambling on about - because I'm aware you may or may not have ever eaten a proper meal (yet) - they're just names some of us use to tell ourselves when we should eat) Wouldn't hunger be a better indicator of when to eat instead of locked in time periods? And who said that we should aim for 5 serves of vegetables and 2 serves of fruit per day or something along those lines? (Yes it's a rhetorical question - I know who - 'official' nutritional guidelines or something I think) Because for me, if I know that the only certainty in life is death I would rather eat what I want to eat If I enjoy the taste of it But at the same time, it is all about the 'balance' (as Katherine Du likes to say) (there will be more on food and eating in the second part of my 'story' -I'm not going to tell you all of it now -just to make sure you keep reading heeeheheheee) And who decided that humans should sleep once a day? And it has to be at nighttime? And who came up with the guidelines that children need about 9-10 hours of sleep per night And that adults need about 6-8 hours per night? (Yes I know - it is scientifically 'proven' - but how did you scientists come up with these numbers? In saying this, I have the most utmost respect for you scientists -I'm just curious -it's hard work working in labs -I have some mates studying science/medicine and they tell me about their 4 hour lab sessions When I heard this, I was angry Because That's torture! Abuse of human rights!! Because I get hungry every 2-3 hours!!!) Wouldn't sleepiness and fatigue be more appropriate signals of when to sleep? Mum, I know you will read this. I did tell you that your friend's daughters will probably read my 'story' first Then tell their parents Then they will call you up And tell you to read this. (I wasn't at all wrong about that was I?) I have to main things I would like to say to you mummy: 1. Happy mother's day! 2. I love you Remember two nights ago when I got home and slept at 7pm Without eating dinner? And you were upset the next morning that I didn't eat your food? I apologise again if I hurt you, But I feel like it was not that necessary to 'lash out at me' when I asked (just innocently out of curiosity): Who decided that humans should eat 3 meals a day? OK so back to the science and religion 'friendly banter' I had Once again, the only certainty in life is death. (and I will repeat this numerous times throughout my 'story' just to annoy you - <3 - I challenge you to count how many times I mention that - and maybe there will be a prize for the person who gets the right number or gets closest to the right number! - just like those jelly bean in a jar guessing competitions! - just kidding - I'm not serious on this one - I can't be bothered to count myself - I have bigger fish to fry ;)) People thousands of years back were 100% certain that the Earth was flat. But they were somehow 'proven' to be 'wrong'. Now we (or just me) are 100% certain that the Earth is round. So in my humble opinion, we can only 'disprove' things but never 'prove' things. We merely get less 'wrong' each time round (Manson, 2016) But we are never 100% 'right.' Anything is possible. (Well maybe besides eternal life beyond Earth - but even that is not 100% impossible) So, an anonymous person who wishes not to be named recently brought to my attention how Fast the world is changing around us. For example, Facebook was invented in 2004 - it's only been 14 years - but I seem to hardly remember any parts of my life without Facebook in it) Wikipedia was launched in 2001 (and I didn't get this one from Wikipedia) (I don't know how I wouldn't 'survived' all those assignments without you! Thank you Jimmy Wales and Larry Sanger! And bless all you other inventors out there who invented something useful to humanity! Again, bless you all who believed me without needing to see it happen. You know who you are. I will never forget how you made me feel. There is nothing that fuels the human spirit like faith. (unless it's more alcohol) Complete And Utter Faith. Even my mother who raised me for 19 years and whom I crawled out of her (something - let's just say body) Doubted me. Yet some of you had utter and complete faith in me within minutes of talking to you for the very first time. And I reiterate again (mum, I'm not throwing shade at you here) If I had a daughter and she told me she's on a quest to change the world this Sunday at 9pm on Mother's Day, I (I don't know what I would do but I would probably not believe her) So….back to how Every single person in the world will eventually receive my message. I chose to use the word 'receive' instead of 'read' because I am also aware that language translation will be needed. TIP: Try copy and pasting this into google translate! (man technology does wonders!!!) And also because not all of us are blessed to be taught how to read. As to why I chose to use English, It's because it just happens to be the language I'm most fluent in. And also because, for some reason, English also happens to be the 'universal' language used across the world. I chose to use the word 'receive' instead of 'see' because I am aware that not all of us are blessed with the ability to see. I chose to use the word 'receive' instead of 'listen' because I am aware that not all of us are blessed with the ability to hear. I chose to use the word 'receive' instead of 'smell' because I am aware that not all of us are blessed with the ability to smell. (this doesn't really have anything to do with what I'm saying today because in my humble opinion, I don't think we can smell a story??? - well feel free to prove me wrong - nothing is certain in life besides death. TBH (to be honest), I just wanted repetition for a couple of lines because I learnt in high school English, that it will help deliver my message across) And I also say 'eventually' because not everyone in the world as it currently stands has even seen what 'technology' looks like, let alone have access to social media. That’s why I'm relying on YOU all to translate my message and communicate it to these fellow peers. I'm just one person. And I need your help. I can't do this alone (but I will if I have to -but ideally not!) So you find yourself still thinking…. 'Ok, I still have no idea what this post is about.' (Yes I am actually a mind reader) Apologies! I'm only human and I'm flawed and I do occasionally get just a little side-tracked and distracted. You're life has value. You were born for a reason. And I will prove it to you. (Yes - I remember whispering this in one beautiful human's ear a couple of days ago. This beautiful human was so selfless and looked out for me when I was not in the best state of self (this hero walked into the female toilets since I was chundering and got kicked out of security guards as a result) (this hero was prepared to take me home on a 1.5 bus ride at like 11pm at night towards a direction which was completely opposite to where he/she lived) (and this hero probably got some of my churned up mix of food and alcohol on them too - soz) (and I apologise again for that other beautiful human who I chundered on their hand -soz not soz - HAHAHA -I do mean it when I say that (now you're probably wondering which part I'm referring to [well you'll never know! Heheee - <3] ) And thank you to you too! You know who you are! I love our long-as text message chats! And that card you wrote me for my 18th last year -those words really touched me Even though we meet up like once (ok I may be using hyperbole here - I'll say twice) a year, You mean the world to me To me, friendships and relationships in general are much more than hanging out in real life, To me, friendships and relationships are more about having that emotional/spiritual connection with another human being To me, friendships and relationships are not defined by physical presence (although I do believe hanging out in real life is nice too - but life sometimes takes us in different directions - and that is not always possible) You may love another person dearly, but that doesn't mean you necessarily have to be together with a physical presence. 'True' love, in my opinion, is when you genuinely want the best for the other person And being genuinely happy to see them happy Yes that night at Metro Theatre in the city, I got kicked out by security guards within 30 minutes of going inside for a combined university event. I think (and you never trust a drunk person's memory) I had about 11 shots of straight vodka that night (looking back, that was not the best idea) Those security guards who kicked us out were not the nicest people. I know that Deep Deep Deep Deep Deep Down That you guys are beautiful people - just please bring it to the surface and show it to the world You could've been a lot more nicer. After I got kicked out and as I was walking towards Maccas (yas I love you maccas - happy meals were my childhood - why are soft serves $0.75 now? They used to only be $0.30! Inflation is a real thing! That's why I love economics! - I'm expecting a massive surge in economics students both at high school and university heheehee - economics teachers and lecturers - you are very welcome XD) In my drunken and semi-conscious state, I remember vaguely rambling on saying things like Why are people like this? Why are people so mean? Why is the world like this? And probably also crying my chunder out at the same time I was always that good straight A studious nerdy student who always did my homework on time and listened to the teacher in class. I waited till I was 18 until I had my first legal drink. (well I did occasionally have some sips of wine at home over dinner but nothing substantial until I turned 18 -unlike most Asian dads, My dad encouraged me to drink at home - he was more than happy! - you're cool dad xD - just wanted to let you know that) I was at a university first years camp when I had my first drink. I remember feeling sad because the alcohol was way too diluted -and I was too 'heavy-weight' -and I couldn't physically drink that much fluid to feel drunk because I was too full Looking back, I was probably drunk and was probably on the verge of my limit But I didn't know because I've never felt what it was like to be 'drunk' Then about a month and a half later, I went to one of my mate's surprise 18th I wanted to 'test' my 'limit' I drank as many different types of alcohol I could get my hands on Rum Vodka Soju Gin White wine Red wine Whiskey Tequila You Name It (well probs besides Maotai which is $$$$ - and we were all young dumb and broke uni students - yes Khalid I love you) And you can probably guess How my night turned out My face was in the bathroom sink for about 3 hours (well it felt like 10 minutes to me but I've realised my perception is super distorted while under the influence) Thank you to those who accompanied me for the entirety or a part of those 3 hours - I'm sure it didn't make it onto the best nights of your life list I remember feeling so ashamed after. I could not stop thinking about it for at least 3 weeks. My reputation! Like most people who chunder for the first time, I vowed that It Wouldn't Happen Again. (deep inside I knew it would because I just wasn't happy and I knew I would turn to more alcohol to distract myself from that constant emptiness but I didn't see another alternative back then) But my brother and mates weren't at all that 'wrong' when they said something along the lines of That's what they all say. Within a couple of weeks (or months - if that detail matters), I Unsurprisingly Chundered Again. And then I repeated what I said previously. And I got the same responses as I did before (kind of like déjà vu) And then the cycle kept repeating itself so many times that I lost count of how many times I chundered Because I stopped caring My 'reputation' was damaged beyond repair anyways And I was happy with the new me (the person who started to care less about what others thought of me) I was always that super good girl who was sweet, nice and 'innocent' (whatever that means) But what does it even mean to be 'innocent?' What's the definition? A lot of my friends had often commented that when they first met me I seemed like an innocent girl then they realised they were 'wrong' like super 'wrong' - completely off Does the fact that I love alcohol And the fact that I've chundered more times than I remember And the fact that I like to squeal at high pitches to the point it may cause long term ear damage (apologies to those people who I have damaged your hearing permanently) And the fact that I really enjoy raves And love waking up to hardstyle music every morning And chucking a phat (someone please explain to me why it's spelt with a 'ph' - I tried googling but I never found an answer - I guess you can't find all the answers to life's problems on google) Muzz To start my day Make me any less 'innocent'? OK so back to that night I got kicked out of Metro Theatre. It was that night when I realised you beautiful humans had my back. And I will forever have yours too. You are all beautiful. And I still remember that night like it was tonight. And I will never forget it. It is around 9pm here where I am in Sydney, Australia right now. There are approximately 7.6 billion people in this world (rounded to 1 decimal place and 2 significant figures - or 'sig figs' - I'm not talking about the dried fruit here) (according to the World Population Clock at 12:18pm yesterday - Sydney time) I may just be one girl. But one girl can change the world. If you don't believe me, I will prove it to you. (200% guarantee Just take a screenshot of this message When you visit me in gaol/jail [depending on where you live in the world] Effective for one year within today HAHAHA in case you haven't realised already, I'm only kidding) Why must we rely on legal systems and laws to protect ourselves from lies? Why can't we rely on trust instead? I realise that it's probably impractical to scrap our legal systems together -but I do reckon mixing a bit of 'trust' into the mixture won't hurt And I am aware that I live in a hole (not literally) I have lived in Sydney, Australia for most of my life Which I know is not representative of the entire world. Some of the things I talk about may make absolutely no sense to you. But I only humbly ask that you take a moment to understand what some of your fellow peers on the other side of the globe go through on a daily basis or have experienced Even if it is super foreign to you. (If you check up on the news on a regular basis, This should be no different I guess But probs maybe just a bit more 'spicy' and realistic) I'm sure you would like to same favour (or should I say flavour HAHHAH - gosh I'm so funny!) to be returned to you. Can I count on you guys (and the entire female population - I don't know why it's normal to say 'guys' for both genders) to have a read of what I have to say first And try not to act on any prejudice or judgement Before you decide to shut it down? Yeah, sorry, I got a little side-tracked again So… The only thing that we know for certain in life is that all of you reading this right now and myself will DIE. So what is the point of staying alive now if it's all going to come to an end? Why are we living to die instead of dying to live? All of us have a mother. (assuming you are all humans like me and started with 'something' that happened between a male and female) I love my mum. Without my mum I wouldn't be here tonight. Without my mum I wouldn't have the opportunity to connect with you tonight. Without my mum you wouldn't be reading this tonight. In Sydney, Australia, Today is Mother's Day. And it's no coincidence that I've chosen this day to connect with you. This is because today we show our appreciation for the beautiful and incredible woman who brought us into this world, whether she is here with you or not today. Today, we show our appreciation to the woman who sucked up the discomfort of having a massive bulge sticking out of her belly for 9 months. Today, we show our appreciation to the woman who suffered physical pain and bleed from childbirth. I don't think there can be any other pain greater than the pain of childbirth (well I haven't given birth so I guess I'm not qualified to say so) (Yes the cute baby photo was specifically chosen to capture your attention) Today, we show our appreciation to the woman who blessed us with a life full of opportunity. Mother's Day is today, in Australia. Why are we on social media? And I am no hypocrite here. Why am I myself on social media tonight? Why have we felt the need to create a 'Day' for all our 'Mothers' out there? Is it because, without a 'Mother's Day,' we will forget to love our 'Mothers'? Shouldn't our mothers be appreciated every single day? (Same for all the 'Father's' out there!!! I love you Dad) In the past, all I did for Mother's Day was go to the shops and buy a box of chocolates or some flowers or whatever was on "Mother's Day Sale." But I've realised there are many things that Money Cannot Buy. (feel free to prove me wrong here) There are many things that cannot be Bought And Sold Based on demand and supply on a Market (Yes I love economics!!!) Love. Time. Purpose. Faith. Hope. Life. The List Goes On And On . . . In my humble opinion, I feel like some meaningful celebrations have been overly commercialised in some 'developed' countries. I feel like Christmas Day is more about buying presents and decorating the Christmas tree. I feel like Easter Day is about eating chocolate shaped in an oval egg shape (or bunny or whatever fancy shape chocolate is moulded into to make it more appealing to buy and eat and make it seem different but at the end of the day it's just chocolate - well maybe different in the sense that it has differing percentages of cocoa content - I'm personally a big fan of dark chocolate! - I reckon 70% is just 'perfect' - well just 'right' - because nothing is 'perfect' but also nothing is 'right' - so yeah, I just contradicted what I just said). I feel like ANZAC Day is more about eating ANZAC cookies and buying things with the Australian flag printed on it. And I feel like Chinese New Year is more about receiving free money from relatives (as long as you are unmarried). Now, I'm not suggesting that you should all divorce or remain single for life and go become Chinese. I'm just telling you about my 'blood nationality' and our culture. Also, while we're on the topic of marriage, I am not at all against marriage (I think marriage is wonderful and Western white wedding dresses are super beautiful on brides), in my humble opinion, I don't really understand the point of marriage? To me, Love is about remaining loyal both physically and emotionally to another human of our own choosing (in my opinion, regardless of gender). Personally, I don't see the need to have my 'love' with another human solidified by the legal system under a notion called 'marriage.' I believe if we truly 'love' another person, We should be able to trust them to remain loyal (both emotionally and physically) to us without protection under the legal system And live together happily ever after (Yes I'm a big dreamer and lover of Disney and I believe in happily ever after fairytale endings with my Prince HEEEHEHEE) And, while we're on the topic of Princes and Princesses and fairytale endings, (I know we all love a good romance on such a dark, romantic night here in Australia and most stories told through mediums such as books and movies tend to have at least a touch of love in them And some have a bigger focus than others *Cough* *Cough* Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet) One of my favourite TV shows (back in the day I still used to watch TV) was the Bachelor/Bachelorette <3 But now I prefer to live in my own reality TV show instead of watching another's on an electronic screen To my Prince out there, (yes you know who you are) Who wishes not to be named (and shamed - hahah just kidding - Well, hopefully you don't find what I'm about to say to be too embarrassing) The way I fundamentally feel towards you has not changed one bit And I'm not talking about hate here (jokes! I lied! I actually feel even stronger towards you now <3) And gosh, No other human on Earth has ever made me cry as many times as you have. No one can compete with how many rivers on Earth I've filled with my salty tears. (everyone else reading this, please don't try to break the Guinness World Record here - I reckon I've had my fair share of tears and breakdowns) And I meant it when I said nobody has ever made me feel this way. (or something like I've never felt this way towards somebody - or the other way around - well I guess that's not important) (and well I guess it does make sense that everybody feels differently towards each person because they're different people) -that paragraph was very coherent - I know I've already told you this directly but repetition surely doesn't hurt! Thank you for always considering what is best for me in everything you've done. (Well I hope that's what you've been doing - only you know what's going inside that interesting head of yours) Thank you for teaching me the importance of honest and open communication. I would never forget that night when you asked me out in the most romantic location one could possibly think of. (Solid memz) (And great place IF we have any future anniversaries) Thank you for all the 'fun' experiences we've shared together (Yes you know which one I'm referring to in particular ;)) I hope we have many more nights just like that (well maybe just a bit more) You're a Tim Tam Because You're Simply Irresistible And you know which Guinness World Record of mine (or personal best) I would like to break ;) (please don't go finding another planet to live on to get away from me) And I love how we always go 'hunting' for the same places when we're out and about in public ;))))) I also would like to say that I miss you. A lot. <3 (AWWWWW) And I've been thinking about you A lot. (AWWWW) And Just like how I've previously never envisioned a life without a uni degree till this Monday, I've never been able to envision a life without you in it (and I probably won't be able to - but nothing is certain besides death - so I could be wrong I guess) I was never quite a full believer in soul mates Until I met you There was always a 'mystical' feeling I felt around you. I never understood what it was Until now I thought it was just 'lust' Or you were just secretly a 'fuckboi' (whatever that means) But I realised it was much more than that. OK, that's the last (massive) chunk of cheese I'm feeding you guys (for tonight). And I'm sure the rest of you have eaten enough cheese for the day. And I don't want to make you puke tonight. Because that's not my job -That's the job of your significant other <3 I don't know what you were expecting when I messaged you yesterday asking for your permission to have your first name in my 'story.' Well, since you said no, I assume you probably weren't expecting this. (man I had some great jokes I wanted to crack with your first name - GRRRRR) But again, as I have already told you, In this life, If we would like to have a nice and healthy relationship, We must accept the fact that we have the right to both reject and be rejected by others. And others hurt us but we also hurt others. That's just part of life. So, I respect your decision. I had to get that off my chest. Because now, When I'm on my deathbed, I don't have to be wondering what could've been had I chosen to tell you. Instead, When I'm on my deathbed, I can spend my last hours reflecting on what a wonderful life it's been Surrounded by my family and closest friends. Now, I've done everything I possibly could within my control. Now, it's all on you now. And please respect how it's a private matter between us two from now on. Your own love lives are much more interesting than mine. Trust me. Why would you want to see how someone else's story ends (or starts) when you can be writing your own 'story?' So go out there and tell that person you've been wanting to tell how you feel how you've felt all along! Be a girl! Growing up, it was always drilled into me that guys should be the ones chasing girls and girls should not chase guys. And that girls should play 'hard to get' Wouldn't life be so much simpler if you start feeling like you like someone, To say something along the lines of: "Hey. I like you. Do you feel the same way?" Then it can either only go one or two ways (Well we all hope it goes one particular way) And then you can move on happily with life and find someone else who also feels the same way and live happily ever after (well unless you're super unlucky and get a fence sitter And apologies, if that's the case, I don't have any further advice for you - you're on your own then xD) I used to think that expressing my emotions was a sign of weakness. I was 'wrong' (whatever it means to be 'wrong' or 'right') But I've realised it actually takes a lot of courage. It takes a lot of courage to tell someone that you feel hurt by something they've done. It takes a lot of courage to tell someone that you love them. But, in my opinion, by telling others how we feel, It actually liberates us. It allows us to make amends Instead of letting resentment build And then exploding later Like our own internal Big Bang Because in my Theory (I guess you can call it the Big Bang Theory), believe me, in my experience, I have exploded many times (not literally) By letting my resentment build (under the influence [heavy] of alcohol) If you don't believe me, Believe Bronnie Ware!! For those of you who don't know Bronnie, She worked as a palliative nurse for 8 years looking after people in their final days alive. And she writes in her book "The Top Five Regrets of the Dying," That one of the top 5 regrets she heard from people with limited time on Earth was that they wished they had the courage to express their own emotions. I used to put on a face and act like something that really hurt me didn't affect me at all. I don't understand why I aspired to be a 'psychopath.' Because a key characteristic of a 'psychopath' is that they feel no emotions. Our ability to feel emotions, whether that be: Happiness Disappointment Joy Anger Resentment Love Is what makes us human. Why do we attempt to 'dehumanise' ourselves? So back to marriage…. Again, I am not against marriage. Well, even if I am, why should you care? It's your life and you choose and how you would like to live it. And believe me, in my humble opinion, life is too short for you to spend a couple of minutes writing a nasty comment trying to convince me of the importance of marriage. (Well if you decide to do so, I'm absolutely honoured! because it means I'm super important to you because you care a lot about what I think) But for me personally, I would just like to wear a nice white pretty long wedding dress for fun and take some photos around my closest family and friends Anyways, got a little side tracked again. Back to the topic: I know that many of us struggle or have struggled to find meaning in life. I'm one of them. And I'll be sharing my story with you. I know if I don't wake up tomorrow, I can Rest In Peace. Apologies, if I have generalised or made false assumptions in parts of my 'story' by using words like "We." I know that there is no other certainty besides death. But sometimes, it is 'easier' to do so to illustrate a point I'm trying to make. I hope you understand. If you don't like what I have to say, you can either (Mark Manson): 1. Do nothing OR 2. Do something I value all opinions and perspectives. I only ask that you do so in a courteous and respectful manner. Growing up, my dad was always the logical one and less of a 'dreamer' than I was. I tried having D&M (Deep and Meaningful conversations) with my Dad but they never turned out the way I hoped. 'Dad, what do you think the meaning of life is?' 'There's no meaning. You live. You die. That's it.' Wow! So optimistic Dad!! I love you Dad! Growing up, you also 'tried' (and I use the word 'tried' because you weren't that successful in doing so) to drill into me that it was a waste of time and energy to 'care too much' about the world Because you said there's nothing I can do about it. I just have to accept life the way it is. Well, back to Mark Manson's two options, You can probably guess which path I decided to take (and it wasn't to accept it I Refuse to accept the world as it is) To all my fellow peers out there, If I have offended you, please let me know. I am not perfect. I don't try to be perfect. And I don't need to be perfect. And as much effort as I've put it and how hard I've tried to minimise resentment and offense, (Just like how I'm trying to be at the minimum point on the parabola And at the maximum point on the parabola with my impact) I'm only human. And so are you. And to further illustrate my point that nothing in this world is 'perfect' (apologies if this sounds like an essay), My 'story' is not fully edited. I've ran through it once - made some changes and this is what you're reading now. There are errors. There are bits repeated. There are bits that make no sense whatsoever. This is to further highlight my belief that nothing in the world is 'perfect' (or the real reason could just be that I'm lazy and cbbs editing it) LOL DISCLAIMER: I do not accept any legal responsibility for any tears shed Or any laughs shared Or any puke vomited from cheese overload in the process of reading my 'story.' (Oh and in case you haven't realised already It's also R rated And if you don't know what that means Adults only!! - just kidding, anyone can read my 'story') I reckon that our mental state would be a better measure of our 'real age' Because our age is just a 1, 2 (or 3) (or 4) (or more) digit number which doesn't indicate anything about our 'maturity' level (whatever that means) nor our 'wisdom' (whatever that means) You are reading at your own risk. Remember It's YOUR own life. And YOU choose how to live it. (Please show appreciation for the fact that I've been nice and have made this disclaimer at a font size that you can actually see) [Tip: Get a box of tissues ready (don’t worry if you don’t know what tissues are - they just help absorb our tears) You can live without them! Actually we can live without a lot of things If my house was on fire, i know what i would choose to take - nothing at all - nothing but myself and my family - I slept in a room with nothing [not literally] but a mattress laid on top of the carpet on the floor with a blanket, pillow, oxygen, walls, life and I was clothed too] And in case you were wondering, I didn't choose to do that for fun. My house was under renovations for a couple of weeks (we repainted the entire house and changed the entire carpet) And during those two weeks, I felt like I was 'homeless' I can't imagine what it's like to actually be sleeping out in the open on the streets Or being a refugee I felt like I was being kicked out of my own dwelling and I didn't belong - I felt lost and very uncomfortable OK, so here's my 'story'. https://leeannchn.wixsite.com/dietolive/single-post/2018/05/13/Lets-Not-Live-To-Die-but-Die-To-Live