#only to find out he was on bail for multiple things and probably engaged to a girl in japan

[fl4tlines]

Bad Things Happen Bingo – Addiction/Withdrawal @badthingshappenbingo ┆ Square #1

「✦」 OCs: Kay Edwards ⅋ Paris Elswood 「✧」 Content: Addiction ┆ Alcoholism ┆ Cursing ┆ Graphic Drug Use ┆Suicide Mention 「✦」 Word Count: 2,145 「✧」 Relevant Links: Masterlist ┆ .𖥔˚ ♫˚ 𖥔.

⛧ ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿⛧ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❝ So you pour a little more; // And there's no one there to judge you; // At least that's what you tell yourself; // But don't you know, nobody drinks alone; // Every demon, every ghost from your past; // And every memory you've held back; // Follows you home. ❞ ⛧ ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿⛧

“Can you sort?”

Paris held the phone to his ear as he spoke. The third number in as many minutes. He rubbed his forehead and shook his head at the answer from the other end of the phone.

“Seriously? Look – I can pay double.”

Another wince as he received his response.

“Yeah. Cash.”

“An 8-ball? No, just a sixteenth.”

Paris paced back and forth across the living room carpet, biting at some loose skin around his nail as he waited on an answer. 

“Mhm, yeah. Yeah. Great.”

He glanced upwards to the clock. Three in the morning. But it was an hour and… something slow. More like half four. He pressed his hand into his forehead again.

“Yeah. Got it. Double in cash. Same spot as yesterday?”

After receiving the confirmation, Paris hung up the phone and finished the last of a bottle of wine from the table. Cheap shit, Kay had told him. Rough. Muddy. Rotgut. Yeah, Kay liked to pretend he knew what he was talking about. Throwing around all the right buzzwords so people thought he had something worthwhile to contribute.

And Paris couldn’t help but find that endearing.

He grabbed a jacket on his way out of the door – one of Kay’s, khaki green with a fur lined hood. Still with a wad of cash in the pocket from yesterday. Now was a good time to be thankful Kay never wore it.

The moment he was out of the apartment, Paris pulled the hood up and made his way down the two flights of stairs in the dark. Wiring was busted. Again. Third time this week.

Chilled air hit him as he took the all too familiar route, head down as he walked briskly. At this point, he didn’t even have to look up. He could work on muscle memory alone for this. And then the last turn. Taking him down a street – an alley behind long since closed takeouts and a nightclub. With rusted security cameras surveilling it. Long since disconnected.

The usual ten minute wait ensued. Agony. Paris paced back and forth, picking at his nails as he waited. But it was always ten minutes waiting for this guy. Even when he did the forty minute drive in thirty. Paris should be used to this by now, but each moment passing was pressure in his chest. If Kay came home and he was gone, that was the relationship over. Done.

But, if he was home? Plausible deniability. Did that apply? An old stash. A slip up at a party. Peer pressure. Anything to shift the blame off of himself. After he had made the call. Gone in search of one more hit.

But it could be worse, he told himself. It could be heroin. Or meth. But he wasn’t an addict like that. He wasn’t. It was just cocaine. 

It was easy to forget that he’d reassured Kay in exactly the same way about his drinking. The drinking could have been worse. Paris had it under control. It wasn’t cocaine. It could have been worse.

It still could be worse.

“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice broke Paris’ train of thought. Probably for the best.

“You’re not Aiden.”

“I should hope not,” the quick, scoffed, reply. “Cami.”

Paris only had the energy, and care, to give her a quick once over. Long, dark hair. Leather jacket. Skinny jeans. Unassuming. Unremarkable.

“Right, whatever. He spoke to you?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“I’ve got it. I can do $190.”

“$350.”

“Never had someone talk me up before. Suicidal or something?” Cami’s response was blunt, but she edged it off with a slight smile.

“I keep my word. I’m not screwing over Aiden. And I don’t need a dead hooker on my conscience.”

“Call girl. But it's your money.”

Paris rummaged in his – Kay’s – pocket and counted out the money in front of Cami, before handing it over to her, and replacing it with a small ziploc that she handed him.

“I can put you on to something better. Cheaper,” Cami looked Paris up and down. When he didn’t respond, she continued. “MCAT. You’ll be paying half. Same kick, better price tag.”

Paris thought about it for a few moments, eyes ever so slightly narrowed as he thought about the offer.

“Cheaper doesn’t matter. This is my last hit, I’m done.”

Cami seemed to do everything she could not to laugh in his face.

“I am. I’m done,” Paris repeated.

“You tell yourself that,” Cami pulled out a card and handed it to Paris, who paused before he took it. “Agency card, but just ask for me. I’ll get you sorted.”

“Listen – I – this is my last fix.”

“Doesn’t mean you won’t need the number.”

Paris pocketed the card. Taking it was far easier than trying to argue with her.

“Are we done?”

“Yeah, we’ll talk soon,” Cami had already decided.

“Yeah. Drive safe or whatever,” Paris muttered as he brushed past her and turned the corner out of the alley.

The walk home could have been therapeutic. A quieter version of the usual busy city. Almost lifeless at this time of night – just about to be revived by commuters on the way to a nine to five. And the bustle was beginning as Paris re-entered the apartment through the door which he had left unlocked. A neighbourhood like this? Even Paris would confess that was reckless. The late night pick up felt relatively safe in comparison.

He crashed down on the couch, still in his coat and emptied his pockets onto the table. Paris cursed under his breath, his life contained only to the mess scattered on the cracked glass surface. With his entire existence laid out like this – who was he kidding? With Kay on the verge of leaving him, the comfort he found here was temporary, but wasn’t everything?

Now wasn’t the time to be tearing himself down, right? He was doing better than he could be. And that must count for something. Rock bottom still seemed so far away.

He took one more look at the table before sinking his head into his hands and continuing to curse under his breath in a low mutter. This was fine. It was fine. Kay wasn’t even home. Wouldn’t be for hours.

Paris straightened his posture and tilted his head back, collapsing once again against the back of the couch. Breath through gritted teeth. It was fine. He had spoken it into existence. It would be fine. He was fine. One last fix wasn’t going to kill him. Not after everything else. This was mild. Quiet night in. Recovery.

Except he knew he was kidding himself there.

Roughly wiping away tears that had not yet fallen, he leant forward on the couch and picked up the clear ziploc. He hardly had time to think as he emptied some of the powdered contents onto the screen of his phone. But he left more than half in the bag. Because this was his last pick up. Because any more would prove he wasn’t recovering.

Paris got to his feet, almost tripping over a discarded hoodie on the floor as he skimmed the pile of DVDs next to the TV. He pulled out a dog-eared copy of Saw III. A movie Kay vehemently refused to rewatch. Written it off as shock value torture porn. Paris slotted the half empty ziploc bag behind the disk and tried to return it to the stack, knocking half of them to the floor in the process.

Compared to the rest of the apartment, the mess was minimal. He’d deal with it later. Before Kay got back.

One glance back at the table, and Paris’ initial focus returned. He stepped over the hoodie on the floor this time and stared down at the screen of his phone. This was just – it was just something to take his edge off. Push some of the itching thoughts back to where they belonged. Maybe the late night trip wasn’t a blaring warning sign. It was proof he had pushed back against the waves of intensity all day. ‘All day.’ After he had run out at five yesterday morning. After passing out in bed from pure exhaustion what must have been minutes before Kay woke. Dealing with the worst of a brutal comedown. 

If he’d lasted that long, maybe he could force through another few hours? Then Kay would be home and – Paris banished the idea quickly. Lasting this long was mere proof that he could quit whenever he wanted to. And that wasn’t tonight.

He took one of the loose bills from the table and pressed it over the powder on his phone screen, before taking Cami’s card in his other hand. Slightly too flimsy. But whatever. Paris slowly dragged the card across the top of the bill, breaking up any impurities in the substance. He removed the bill and tapped the card against the screen to target larger clumps, before replacing the bill.

He proceeded to repeat this several times before putting the bill to the side. Paris was methodical, focus drawn into the familiar routine. Even the action itself brought a warm sense of comfort. With continued precision, he separated the powder into several distinct lines. It contrasted the black of the phone screen in a way Paris would only be able to describe as satisfying. Clean.

Paris picked the twenty dollar bill back up from the table and rolled it up, tight and even. Like he had done it thousands of times before. And that probably wouldn’t be an exaggeration. He pressed a finger to each nostril and inhaled in quick succession before bringing the note to his nose. Paris leant forward and sharply exhaled, before inhaling with the end of the note pressed to the first line of powder.

Within moments, the sharp taste hit the back of his throat. Distinct bitter petrol. Familiar. A sign of a better emotional state on the horizon, no matter how brief the respite would be. Paris waited for a few minutes before he got up from the couch and took off his coat, hanging it back in the hall. A futile effort to hide his late night walk from Kay. Because Kay would know. No matter how careful Paris was.

Not that it mattered. It was a problem for later, Paris had already decided. Kay would understand, they could talk tomorrow. Kay would get back from work, they would talk. Paris vaguely remembered Kay saying he had a couple of days off. And they could make the most of those few days. A date. Movie. Drive out to a trail – a hike. Picnic, maybe. Paris smiled faintly to himself as he sat back on the couch.

It would be good. He’d get the apartment back into a reasonable state tonight, and they could have tomorrow. And the next day. His heart pounded in his chest – in his throat. This was fine. Good, even. What had he even been thinking before? Kay wouldn’t leave him. They weren’t on the verge of a catastrophic collapse. Kay wouldn’t hurt him like that.

The hours passed into the early morning. The earlier morning, as daylight began to emerge from the outside world into the apartment. Fractured rays of sun illuminated the mess of an apartment – somehow in a worse state than Paris had dared consider. The beginnings of a headache brought his attention back to the phone on the table.

He should text Kay. Apologise. Beg for some semblance of forgiveness. Swear to clean the apartment tomorrow. Convince Kay not to walk out on him. Because he would.

It wasn’t worth it to stick around.

It took everything Paris had to pick up the phone, dragging a finger across it to collect the last dusting of powder. He pressed it against his gums and unlocked the phone with his other hand, pulling up Kay’s contact.

A text would make everything worse. Paris dumped the phone back onto the table and stood up. Kay would be home soon, and Paris had to sleep this off before he got home. Just an hour. Two.

The only incriminating remnants from the night before were the card Cami had given him and the bills on the table. Plus a takeout box of fries. Still full. He hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of eating, despite the hunger pangs that had emerged through the night. How they were clawing at his stomach, only quelled by sheer nausea. Paris took the money and business card as he stumbled towards the bedroom – a combination of the drink, drugs and plain old sleep deprivation causing his unsteadiness. He tossed everything into the nightstand drawer and almost collapsed into his side of the bed. The thought of undressing – even so much as taking off his shoes – didn’t occur to him as he fell into a restless sleep.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ » next

[stonefreeak]

My goodness people, I’m so sorry for the delay! I’ve been working on the structuring of my files to get a better overview of what remains of the project, to hopefully be able to speed writing up (even as work really means that my free-time is much more limited than it was once upon a time, lmao. Sometimes I miss December of 2016 when this whole thing started, 33k in a month of updates, amirite?)

it’s taken me so long I’m wondering if anyone even remember this plot point at this point, lmao

Also: belated happy midsummers to all my fellow Swedes!

Bail taps his finger against this desk and stairs unseeingly at the datapad in front of him.

He hadn't been sure if the information Aleena Yashi gave him, though she's worked as an assistant to multiple senators over the years, was true. But everything checks out. He briefly wondered why she would come to him about it, rather than Senator Lobos who she's currently working for... But perhaps it's because he's known to have a favourable view of the Jedi that she's done so. Perhaps it's because all of this information mostly pertains to the Jedi and the laws surrounding them, and she wanted a prominent Senator who she could trust not to hide the information away because they don't care for the Jedi.

Bail, a Core World Senator well known for his good relationship with the Jedi and friendship with the current Supreme Chancellor, must have seemed like the best option for her. He wonders who else would have been on her list, before she settled on him, but he chose not to ask when she visited him. Perhaps it's better if he doesn't know; it hardly matters now anyway.

He looks down at the datapad again and considers his options.

He should probably discuss her findings with her, and see what exactly her goal is. If he's to do something about this, then he wants her involved even as he gathers support from other senators.

He has no doubt that Padmé will agree to add her support to Bail to help sort this mess out, but considering that they've both been involved with the investigation they're conducting into Jedi missions being altered... Well, Bail wants more Senators involved this time. Just to ensure that it cannot be taken as some form of conspiracy in favour of the Jedi. As ridiculous as that notion seems, Bail is not blind to the way many Senators look at the Jedi, nor to the fact that many of them don't seem to believe that they're really capable of what they say they are.

Few people besides the Jedi truly believe in the Force, after all.

Few people could believe in something they cannot know for themselves when others supposedly have a direct connection to it. Bail is one of the few who does believe them, he's seen what the Jedi can do first-hand. There's nothing else that can account for that kind of power besides this Force they talk of. They and other groups out there, it’s not only the Jedi, after all.

Besides, he knows many of them personally, and while Bail may not understand or follow all of their beliefs or traditions, he also knows that they're not a bunch of charlatans faking it for power of money—though he knows some of his fellow senators believe that to be the case. Even senators on Coruscant, who've seen Jedi in real life, seem to believe them little more than myth.

Bail has been kept up to date on the investigation into the Jedi missions, though he’s not taking an active role in it right now, and he’s certain that he has been kept in the loop to give legitimacy to the investigation. Give it a proper paper trail, even if it’s done with the Senate’s highest level of security. A strictly need-to-know basis, and until it’s finished, no one else needs to know.

Of course, Bail asked Obi-Wan in private if he would be allowed to tell Breha. As his Queen and the leader of Bail’s planet, he found it important to clue her in on it. Besides, it’s another step of legitimacy. After all, if Breha takes an active stance on it, then so does Alderaan.

If anyone wants to accuse the investigation at a later date for being a sham… Well, they will need to accuse Alderaan of engaging in it in the first place. Bail isn’t stupid enough to think that it’s not one of the primary reasons Obi-Wan agreed with Bail’s request.

They’re friends, and Obi-Wan likes Breha, but this is not about being friends. This is about political allyship and keeping sensitive information on as tight a lock-down as they can until the time  to reveal it comes.

Besides, as worried as Bail has become with Miss Yashi’s information, it’s even worse when considered together with the altered Jedi missions and not in the least… Well, the war time propaganda. There's no point in shying away from what it is, and the ramifications it has.

Considering how most of the war time propaganda—Bail can acknowledge it for what it is, there truly is no point in trying to deny the facts—focuses almost exclusively on the clones and their efforts in the war, it's hardly strange that the general population neither know nor understand them.

Further considering the information that Bail has now confirmed to be real and accurate... He understands that the omission of the Jedi is entirely deliberate. If you want to discredit and undermine the Jedi, why would you ever speak of their accomplishments and sacrifices? You wouldn't, as that would bring public support to them.

Bail sighs and rolls his shoulders.

He needs to build a following, he cannot properly push this alone. But he also understands why Miss Yashi brought it to him alone, first. A Core World Senator is far harder to make "disappear" than a Twi'lek Senatorial aide, no matter how awful that is to say. Bail can't go missing, and any attempt on his life would have a bit more trouble hitting its mark.

That's not to say that it would be impossible for someone to assassinate him, which is of course why he'll make sure that Breha is entirely up to speed on everything.

All of it together... There is some form of conspiracy to discredit or perhaps even get rid of the Jedi; Bail is sure of it. But he cannot see to what end. What are they trying to achieve?

For what reason would anyone work to discredit the Jedi? What is the end goal to strive for? There’s no way for the politicians to dissolve the Jedi Order, they are not in that way under Senate control. They could, of course, remove all of their backing, forcing the Jedi to become free agents, certainly…

But for what purpose? It would leave the Republic without the Jedi as peacekeepers, for the Jedi would hardly remain to do diplomacy work for the Senate without its backing. After all, what would the point be? Without the Senate’s backing, the Jedi would have far less ability to do anything.

How could they negotiate treaties if the Senate won’t honour them?

They could, perhaps, be a neutral third party within discussions. But there’s no reason for anyone to listen to their input in such a case. It’s hard enough to get disagreeing parties to listen to external input when you come with powerful backing that could make you listen even if you refuse.

How could they function with no funding? They would need to work on commission, at which point only those who can afford their help can get it. That would be the opposite of an improvement.

To not even begin to talk about how few of them there are, how few of them there were even before the war. Their population is not even a hundredth of a percent of Alderaan’s population, and Alderaan is only a single planet within the tens of thousands of star systems that make up the Republic—nevermind the entire galaxy. There’s just not enough of them, and hasn’t that always been a problem even while they’re working under the Republic? Too few, spread too thin.

No, if the Jedi became free agents, their ability to affect change would be greatly diminished. Bail is quite certain they’d work on much smaller scales, still trying to do what they can for the galaxy, bit by bit. Working with smaller communities on planets and moons… If they even had the ability to find out about disputes that may need their help in the first place.

Losing the Jedi as peacekeepers isn’t a win for the Republic either, as the budget for the Jedi was already miniscule even before it started being diminished—as Miss Yashi’s discovery shows. It cannot be an attempt at cost saving, or an idea of improvement for the Republic. Needing to train their own diplomats and ensure that they have skilled enough guards… That would be more expensive and it would not be able to guarantee that these diplomats are neutral in conflicts.

The Jedi have no specific allegiances the way diplomats and even Senators have. Even the least corrupt Senator will still place their own planet and star system first. It is part of their role, after all.

So no, it cannot be something like that. Not unless the people slowly enacting this are horribly misguided and foolish. Not to mention, Bail knows most Senators would simply call for making away with the Jedi entirely, rather than this slow plan to undercut them.

No… There must be something else going on here, some other primary goal whoever is pulling these strings is looking out to do.

He’ll need to figure it out, no doubt, Bail concludes.

But beyond that, he also needs to build a base to help him bring this information he’s been given to the Senate’s attention. He is quite sure already who he should be looking towards first: Senator Ach’ki Mandai of Haa’ndu.

Who better to help him bring this to Senate attention than the Senator who ensured a Jedi now sits as the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic?

—

(Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi masterpost)

[ah-ga-seven]

Till’ The End of Summer - Chapter 1

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated? 

Word count: 3.2K

Genre: Angst, Fluff, 

Warnings: Mentions of sex, alcohol, overall pretty tame. 

A/N: English isn’t my first language, pls don’t come for me ;) Also the first chapter sucks and is more of an introduction so pls give ch 2 a chance lmaoo, it’s juicy, i promise.

You were exhausted.  

Your second year of college had passed like a whirlwind and you didn’t even have the time to realise.

Deadline after deadline after deadline had passed and you finally handed in your last paper of the year.  

You sigh in relief. The pent up tension leaves ur body and the stress seems to fade more and more as the seconds pass. You stare blankly at your laptop screen. Still not quite realising how you managed to write ten thousand words of scientific research just 3 days before the deadline.

You feel two firm hands on your shoulders, massaging you as a way to show comfort “Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re about to cry.”  

The voice and sudden skinship startled you a little but as soon as you realise who it is, you relax in his touch.

You remove your Airpods and look up at your best friend, Soobin, who sat down next to you at your favourite secluded table in the school’s cafeteria. It’s where your friends could always find you if you had work to do.  

“I just might” you sigh throwing your head back. And suddenly a huge grin crept up your face. Which worked contagiously as Soobin instantly started to smile back at you. 

“I did it. I finished all of the work.” You say putting your hand on your forehead dramatically.  

Soobin chuckled nudging your shoulder. “I told you, you’d be fine. You always manage to pull through even though you procrastinate so much.” He says as he high-fives you.

You pout at his statement. Yes. It’s a serious problem. “I just-”

You stop your sentence midway as that god walks into the cafeteria. His confident stride to the soda machine dressed in simple athletic wear made your jaw drop slightly. He was sweaty, probably from basketball practice. His chestnut hair damp, cascading his forehead and prickling his eyes. He blinked a few times before blowing the hair out of his face with his pouty lips.  

You swallow harshly at the sight and Soobin follows your gaze. You hear him chuckle, right before he flicks your forehead.

“Maybe if you stopped drooling over my roommate, you would’ve been able to focus.”  

You send him a glare, kicking his knee under the table, making him yelp out in pain, which caught someone’s attention.

Yeonjun takes out his soda from the machine as his head snaps in your direction. He smiles and approaches your table. Your heart decided to do martial arts in your chest with every step he took towards your table.

You look away from his gaze quickly pretending to be busy with your laptop.

“Hey, what’s up?” Yeonjun said ‘bro-fiving’ Soobin.  

“Nothing much, just the usual abuse from miss thing here,” Soobin says sending you a look as he rubs his knee. 

“Abuse? I didn’t know you were into that.” Yeonjun says giving you a coy smile, and you nearly choked at his words, looking at him wide-eyed.

You try your best to keep your cool, but Yeonjun was leaning against your chair, inching dangerously close, looking over your shoulder.

“Watchu working on?” he asks cutting the tension.

Oh Yeonjun, always so friendly and interested. If only he knew the effect he had on you. Or the effect he had on at least half of the female and male population of your elite college.  

“N-nothing. I mean I just finished it. It’s the paper for Mr. Davis’s class. The last one, so summer can finally start.” You ramble, not sure why you’re telling him all of these details. It’s not like he cares. 

You take a mental note to shut up, stealing a quick glance from Soobin who was awkwardly shifting in his seat.

Yeonjun let out a chuckle, patting your back. “Good job, I knew you could do it. This paper will give you an advantage next year right?”  

You look up in confusion. “How’d you know?”

“Soobinnie here told me that this paper was the reason you bailed on the party two days ago. Such a shame, would’ve been nice to have you there you know…” Yeonjun says a little lost in thought absentmindedly moving a strand of your hair behind your ear.  

Was he? Flirting?  

“I have all the time in the world now, so if you want to see me so badly, just give me a call.” You say confidently crossing your arms. You were testing him, and he seemed amused by your sudden confidence.  

Soobin rolled his eyes at the two of you. Yeonjun is a notorious fuckboy. A star player of the basketball team, rich, handsome, charming but also his best friend and teammate. You were also his best friend that he had known since childhood, which means that the two of you were a recipe for disaster in his books.  

The two of you planned to go to the same college since your parents pushed you to do so, but also because you two are joined at the hip since birth. Oh and did you mention that Soobin was the one with the full basketball scholarship, while you had to rely on your actual brain to get one?

Ever since you started college and were introduced to Choi Yeonjun, you had a meaningless crush on him. But since time passed and you got close to Soobin’s friends and vice versa, your feelings towards him seemed to escalate and you could tell that Yeonjun was into you too. You just didn’t know in what way.

Soobin always tried his best to keep you two apart because he didn’t want you to get hurt. Soobin knew Yeonjun was just going to be in it for the sex and is not ready for a relationship in any way or form.  

But Soobin also knows that if you have set your mind to something, there’s absolutely no way that he can talk you out of it. You have always had a fascination for bad boys, wanting to fix them and then crying to Soobin about it when it didn’t work out. It might be the quality he hates about you the most.

But this time it was different. This time it was between two people that Soobin genuinely cared for. So he was against the two of you having any type of relationship other than friendship.

Soobin cleared his throat, diverting the attention back to him. “That sounds nice and all, but I think y/n will be going back home for summer. Right?”

You’re confused by Soobin’s sudden cock blocking and raise your eyebrow at him.

“No, actually. I’m not. Not this year. My parents are traveling through Europe so there’s nothing for me to go home to.” You say. Soobin knows about this. So why would he mention you going back home?

“Well. That’s great. Then we can finally hang out with the whole squad without any of us bailing because of school work.” Yeonjun says smiling.

“Anyways, I’ve got to go. I guess I’ll…see you around?” Yeonjun asks staring at you intently. You just nod in response giving him a smile, which he returned to you immediately. It was more of a smirk than a smile though and you could swear his eyes wandered to your chest, but you didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

“See you back home bro” Yeonjun said patting the younger one on his shoulder before walking off.

As Yeonjun was out of sight, your head snaps back to Soobin, who was glaring at you.

“What was that about,” you say crossing your arms, fire spitting from your pupils.

“That’s so NOT happening” Soobin states taking a sip out of his water bottle while keeping eye contact.

“Excuse you?” you say lost for words.

Soobin just shrugs, he’s visibly annoyed and you know not to push his buttons right now but you decide to do so anyway.

“Listen, I know you’re practically my brother and all. But you’re not. So I don’t see why you need to act like you are, I like him Soobin. Let me explore my feelings for him a little.” You say in a hushed tone trying not to sound too bitchy, but Soobin just scoffs in response, rolling his eyes at you.

“It’s your feelings that I’m worried about y/n, cause he certainly doesn’t care. He just wants to fuck. If he actually liked you, he wouldn’t look at you like you’re a meal. He’d look at you with affection.”  

You’re taken aback by his statement and you’re not so sure if you should bite back at him. Instead, you let him explain some more as you wave your hand at him as a sign for him to continue.

“I care about both of you. I just don’t want this y/n, because when worse comes to worst I will have to choose, and then I will choose you and everything will go to shit. I am his captain, we have the same group of friends, we share multiple classes, hell, we share a whole apartment” Soobin sighs massaging his temples.

“Ok…Ok…Jesus” you give in.

“I promise; I won’t engage” you pout.  

“Good,” Soobin says. “Please for once just…listen to me. Trust me, he’s not the type of guy to want a relationship right now.”

“Ok.” You sigh. “But this means you and your girlfriend will be stuck with me all summer then.”

Soobin looks up, confused at how easy it was to talk you out of it. He smiles at you sweetly and his eyes disappear into crescent moons as he does so. “I can’t wait to get mani-pedi’s.” He laughs sarcastically clapping his massive hands together cutely while visibly relaxing in his seat.

Suddenly your heart gets all soft at the sight of the giant baby in front of you.  In a way he is right. He’s telling you all the things that you already knew. And the last thing you wanted was to hurt Soobin for some dumb crush you had on a college boy.  

“Soobin is just the captain cause he’s the tallest” Yeonjun argues.

You giggle at his childish statement. You were at the park off-campus with some of your friends. Soobin had his arm draped around his girlfriend Mia’s shoulder while she leaned into him. They were disgustingly adorable. And every time they displayed a little too much PDA all of your friends would throw snacks at them.

Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai had also joined you on the picnic. You were sitting with your legs draped over Beomgyu’s so there would be enough space for everyone on the blanket you brought.  

All of you munched on different types of snacks. And you tried your hardest to keep your distance from Yeonjun without making it obvious.

“Soobin hyung is the captain because he’s not as full of himself as you are” Taehyun said, making everyone but Yeonjun laugh.

He gave Taehyun the glare of death and pouted afterward to show playfulness. “I get no respect in this household” Yeonjun sighs as he throws an M&M at Tae’s head, which he dodged just in time.

Your heart did a jump at the sight of his pout and as if he could sense it, Yeonjun made eye contact with you.

He smirked, looking away when you did.  

Mia looked at you, narrowing her eyes as she saw the way you two were stealing glances from each other like high school kids.  

Mia was one of your closest friends whom you had introduced to Soobin in the first year. They started dating not long after they met. And from time to time you still remind them of the fact that if it weren’t for you, they’d be sad and lonely.

Mia knew you like the back of her hand, just like Soobin did. So keeping a secret from either of them was basically impossible. The two of them tend to gang up on you a lot. Even though you know It’s out of love and concern, it’s still really fucking annoying sometimes. Especially when it comes to your love life.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you say getting up. Beomgyu reluctantly removed his arm from your leg and uses it as a supporting rod for you to get up.  

You smile and thank him, which made Yeonjun narrow his eyes at the two of you, which Mia also noticed.  

Soobin however was lost in deep conversation with Hueningkai about some Math problems he had.  

Huening was a freshman, just like Tae, but since they were on the basketball team as well, they were all pretty close. And they helped each other out whenever they could.

You admired their friendship and were happy to call them your friends as well.

“I’ll come with you,” Mia says untangling her man's arms from her waist as she tries to get up, earning a sad pout from Soobin in return. “Come back soon,” he said sighing.

“Don’t be disgusting” Yeonjun and you say at the exact same time. Earning chuckles from everyone.

You look at each other surprised and laugh like the two of you were in your own world.

This time, Soobin noticed, and you try your best to avoid his gaze.

“You two are just bitter cause you’re single” Taehyun stated throwing his head back in evil laughter.

“Well so are you, so are all of you except for them so what’s your point exactly” Yeonjun bites back giving Taehyun a beaming smile while stuffing his face with a handful of the chocolates.

“Ehm, shall we?” Mia nudged you and you nodded as the boys’ bickering became background noise while you walked off together.

“Why do chicks always go to the bathroom together” Hueningkai questioned with genuine curiosity.  

“So they can talk shit in private,” Beomgyu said wiggling his eyebrows.

As Mia and you walked further and further from your spot, Mia looks over her shoulder to determine if it’s a safe enough distance to start gossiping.

“Dude” she nudges you while speaking in a hushed tone.

“Why were you and Yeonjun literally eye-fucking each other in front of everyone.”  

Your eyes grow wide and you turn around facing her. “Eye-fucking” you repeat her, suppressing a chuckle while trying to be as nonchalant as possible.  

“I think you’re seeing things.” You say shrugging.

“Am I y/n?” she looks at you with a stern expression, and this time you’ve had about enough.

You sigh in frustration as you open the door to the public bathroom entrance.

“Look, Soobin already gave me the ‘Yeonjun is a fuckboy so stay away’ lecture, I really don’t need to hear it again.”  

“Soobin lectured you about not engaging with Yeonjun?” Mia says surprised.

You raise your eyebrows. “You didn’t know? I thought he told you everything.”  

Mia sighs. “If you like him, who’s Soobin to tell you what to do with those feelings?”  

Your jaw drops, in awe of the fact that she’s siding with you on this one. “But if he hurts you, I’ll break his ankles.” She says determined, with her psycho protective smile.  Ah, there it is.  

“Well. Soobin really gave me an ultimatum. He basically says that if things end badly, he would have to choose between us and that it’d ruin not only his friendship but the team’s teamwork and everything. I don’t want to have that on my conscience just because I’m lusting over Yeonjun.”

Mia nearly busted a lung laughing and you cocked your eyebrow at her in surprise. “What are you laughing about” you try to suppress a smile, amused by her sudden outburst.

“He. Is. So. Dramatic” she says still recovering from her laughing fit.

“He is?” you ask genuinely interested in her point of view.

“Yes, he is. Look I don’t want to be the one to push you into toxicity or anything but we know Yeonjun. He is sweet? And nice. And he has never given me an off vibe. I can tell he has eyes for you, the only problem is that a lot of girls have eyes for him too and that can become a problem. The issue is if YOU can handle that.” Mia fixes your hair while she speaks and you sigh.

She’s right. “But Soobin”

“Oh fuck Soobin, I’ll keep my mouth shut. Just live a little. What’s the worst that could happen.”  

“Did you pee out the whole lake? That took forever.” Soobin states yanking Mia back into his lap.

“I missed you,” he says nuzzling his face in her neck.

“Ok, gross.” Beomgyu rolled his eyes.  

“There was a line” you lie walking over to Yeonjun’s side, sitting down between him and Hueningkai this time. This action earned a look from Soobin, who was basically cursing at you with his eyes, all while Mia smiled at you knowingly. It also earned a look from Yeonjun, he looked at you surprised but content, and he gave you a sweet smile, his facial expression softened immediately when you nudged him playfully as you sat down next to him.

The whole afternoon was spent laughing and bickering. Listening to the boys’ none sense and Taehyun making snacks disappear and appear with his never-ending magic tricks. All while the six of you were busting your brains trying to solve Hueningkai’s mathematical equations for his engineering class.  

Yeonjun inched closer to you from time to time. The both of you were in charge of the music that was blasting from your portable speaker. You compared your Spotify playlists and noticed how much you have in common with him music-wise. It was fun seeing Yeonjun becoming all passionate about his favourite artists, it certainly didn’t help the fact that you were trying to keep a distance from him. Cause his cute little mannerisms and the way he gets so engrossed in his storytelling made you fall for him even more. Face first to be exact.  

From time to time you would feel Yeonjun’s gaze linger on you. He’d ‘accidentally’ brush his arm against yours or he would touch your thigh, asking you to pass him another can of soda.

It was a lot, but you couldn’t say you hated it.

“It’s getting late” Taehyun says getting up. “We need to prepare for the party tonight”  

his statement earned hums, moans, and groans from everyone.  

“Whose party?” you asked.

“Johnny. That senior from the photography major” Yeonjun answered, looking at you with a hopeful expression. “You’re coming right?”  

You smiled at him, nodding your head. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Dude this is a disaster,” you say rummaging through your clothes while you were on Facetime with Mia. “I don’t have anything to wear”  

Mia rolled her eyes at you. “You trying to impress someone?” she said stuffing her face with seaweed chips.

You stare at her through the screen “Listen, you little shit. Just because you’re in a happy marriage doesn’t mean you get to be all sarcastic and judgy”  

She snorted “Marriage!? Oh please. You’re just trying to impress Yeonjun and that’s fine. Just wear something that covers the least amount of skin, he’ll like it.”  

“You’re a menace to society” you state, Mia shrugs at your choice of words and laughs. “But you’re right.” You give in grabbing a strappy lilac mini dress. “Then I guess this is contestant number one”

“Ooh, yes! Love that, wear that.” Mia enthusiastically exclaims giving you a thumbs up.

“Okay, that was a lot easier than I thought this was going to be, I’m gonna finish getting ready. You and Soobin are picking me up, right?” 

“Yes, we are. Be ready at 11.”  

“Alright, see you, bye”

“Bye.”

You throw your phone on your bed and hold the dress in front of your figure, looking at yourself in the mirror. You sigh, getting a rush of anxiety and butterflies in your stomach as you think of seeing Yeonjun again tonight. 

Let’s see where this goes. 

Chapter 2

[maeviana]

Lorelai Gilmore & Luke Danes Analysis & how I would change the story

A Lorelai Gilmore analysis because apparently I'm doing this for everyone on the show now!

Lorelai Gilmore...how do I begin to describe Lorelai Gilmore. There are times when Lorelai can be my favourite character and times where she can be my least favourite character. 

 I think Lorelai denying the fact that she is still very privileged despite leaving her parents world when she was 16 is one reason she can drive me up the walls. Lorelai is a conventionally attractive white woman who fits the trope of 'single mom but my child is really smart so men don't see it as a turn off' - she seems to be able to get any guy she wants, the whole town falls at her feet and are willing to do pretty much anything to help her, she was promoted to Manager seemingly above Michelle (who actually went to school to train to be a concierge or whatever he is and who we know started at the same time as Lorelai) Lorelai has all the advantages of someone who spent their whole life in a small town but whenever she needs it or wants it she always has her parents money to fall back on or their connections which I get makes her uncomfortable and I don't hold her privilege against her - no but what I can hold against her is the fact that Lorelai Gilmore is not a pay it forward kind of gal.

When I say that Lorelai is not very "pay it forward" I'm going to talk about three incidents where Lorelai benefitted from something in the past which she does not need anymore and which she very begrudgingly relinquishes.

1. The first is when Suki wants to ask her if Rune can sleep in the potting shed while he is out of work. Lorelai's response to this is "Suki that's where Rory and I stayed when she was a baby" Just to recap Lorelai was allowed to stay in the potting shed rent free when Rory was growing up until Rory was 11 until she could afford to get a place of her own. Which is fine. But Lorelai has her own place now and now she is in a position to help someone else who could use the same help that she was once given and her first instinct is to keep it for herself which is made worse by the fact that Suki is asking her - Suki is Head Chef at the Inn and so she equals Lorelai in rank - as long as Rune staying in the shed doesn't interfere with the running of the inn, it should not be Lorelai's place to deny her.

2. When Jess comes to town. When Jess comes to town Lorelai doubts Luke's ability to care for a rebellious teen - which again is fine. She tries to reach out to Jess twice and ....things don't go well which I also think is fine (except for her essentially telling Jess that Dean is better than him ummm wtf Lorelai he's 17) ...look I could do a whole other post about Lorelai and Jess' interactions (Jess is my absolute favourite character on the show so you can probably guess what I'm going to say) and why they don't get on but I'm going to focus on Lorelai's reaction to the car crash and what she says to Luke in 'Teach Me Tonight' when Luke tells her he has an obligation to Jess and she responds that he had an obligation to the town and to her and to Rory. We are shown and we are told that Luke has done a lot for Lorelai and would do a lot for someone that he cares about, however, I think again that on some level Lorelai thinks of Luke's generosity towards her as a special privilege just her own. I don't think Lorelai views Jess as someone like herself who needs a "Mia" or a "Luke" to help him get through a difficult time to let him stay in a metaphorical emotional "potting shed" but look having said that she does cut Jess some breaks and does help Luke understand things about Jess.

3. Her not wanting Mia to sell the Independence Inn because she wanted a memory home....ummm what. the. fuck?

Growing up Emily tried to control almost every aspect of Lorelai's life and this has impacted Lorelai by her being ultra controlling in her own life. I think her need to have complete control over her life made it very difficult for her to get serious with anyone because to do so you need to have a 50/50 say in a shared life. I think it's really telling that her two major love interests even over the guy she was engaged to are two men who have been in her life the longest.

I think at the end of the day when it comes to relationships Lorelai just wants someone to love her and to listen to her. She wants someone who would be willing to sleep on a park bench outside her window and someone to call at 2am. i think Emily and Richard we’re a real unit in their household and I think Emily was a Wife first, a lady of high society second and a mother third. Richard was well emotionally shut down and was all about appearances. But Emily and Richard work well as a unit, they are kind of like Lorelai and Rory that way they have their own way of doing things, their own language. I think it was hard for Lorelai growing up an only child next to that kind of relationship but not on the inside. 

The story line I'm most annoyed about the writers dropping for Lorelai was the story line of her now living her life as an adult woman without a child - about her not wanting to be pregnant. The offer from her Dad's friend to buy the inn and for her to go travelling by herself! But if there is one thing that comes for all television characters in shows in the 00s it's hetero normative ideals those relentless bitches! Because...here is the thing I think that the life Rory thinks she wants for herself travelling and seeing the world as an independent woman that life is really the life that Lorelai wants. Lorelai is very like her Dad and she even says that she wants to travel like her Dad always travelled and I'm so annoyed that THAT wasn't the major Luke and Lorelai conflict instead of April Nardini. (who I think was in part written as a way to give Luke a biological child of his own and still get with Lorelai ....because again hetero-normativity) (its a trope *cough* How I met your mother *cough*) That's why the whole "Wild" trip was written for Lorelai in my opinion it's because Lorelai does want to go out and have an adventure and she does want to find herself. What's more annoying about this story line being dropped though is because the seeds for it being a major Luke and Lorelai conflict are there. Dean telling Luke that Lorelai wants more than Stars Hollow, Lorelai's curiousity about the job offer from her Dad's friend and Lukes reaction to that, Lorelai realising that some of her aversion to certain paths in life come from her parents wanting them for her which may include "going corporate" which could open doors for travel. That’s how Luke lost the last love of his life - Rachel. It was potrayed that she was always leaving - but it could also be interpreted as Luke never following her. Then Lorelai wants to travel to run incorporations of an inn that Rachel introduced her to through her pictures. 

Think about it Luke's major character flaw is that he finds change very difficult. He lives in the same town he has lived in his whole life, he doesn't change his clothes, he can't make a move. This made sense for Luke before - he needed to be so solid because his family was so erratic, he needed to be there for his dad, he needed to be there to bail his sister out but at the end of the show Luke has no reason not to change, his business is well established enough that he could trust Ceasar to run it while he was away, he (would not have had) any children, any real reason to stay in the town other than stubbornness.

I don't find April annoying as a character - I find why she was written annoying. Luke didn't need a kid. The show is filled with biological parent child relationships that don't work, that show that bonds are more about being there for someone than being in their DNA. I feel like writing as if Luke needs to have a child is just weird (it's stated and shown on multiple occasion he in fact really doesn't like kids), when he's been a relative hermit up to age what 35/40 means that maybe he'd be ok without kids and the fact that Luke is loved like a father by Jess and by Rory but no Luke needs biological children because? why?

And then Jess (who was always ready to leave and never shows his cards when it comes to love) could show up and tell him that he should go be with Lorelai wherever , that he’ll make sure Liz and TJ don’t join any vegetable cults. Because Luke now has someone else in his family that he can rely on and he doesn’t have to plan funerals and interventions for his crazy family members on his own and also the this plot line would fall in nicely with the GG theme song but that’s not that big of a deal. 

[thisaliennerd]

so true blaine, sam and britt are autistic!! but post about it i wanna know why u think that

I literally only needed one person to ask me this, so thank you for being that person, anon! Britt is very self-explanatory, and Sam is also pretty obvious imo (although I do have lots of notes on him too), but since I think Blaine needs a little bit more explaining, here is my evidence as to why I think he’s autistic.

First of all, let’s look at some of the common symptoms of autism in adults:

Difficulty interpreting what others are thinking or feeling

Trouble interpreting facial expressions, body language, or social cues

Difficulty regulating emotion

Trouble keeping up a conversation

Inflection that does not reflect feelings

Difficulty maintaining the natural give-and-take of a conversation; prone to monologues on a favorite subject

Tendency to engage in repetitive or routine behaviors

Only participates in a restricted range of activities

Strict consistency to daily routines; outbursts when changes occur

Exhibiting strong, special interests

I think Blaine exhibits all or almost all of these things throughout the show, so let’s go through the list, point by point (with examples):

First, difficulty interpreting what others are thinking or feeling. Blaine is very bad at this, especially romantic feelings. He doesn’t catch on to Kurt or Tina having crushes on him for way too long even though neither of them are subtle about it. He also doesn’t seem to pick up on most of Sebastian’s stuff. He seems to be aware that he’s hitting on him, but he doesn’t seem to be aware of his rivalry with Kurt or any of his malicious intent. Every time he and Kurt get into a fight he needs Kurt to explicitly tell him what’s wrong. 

Second, trouble interpreting facial expressions, body language, or social cues. Blaine is TERRIBLE at this. He doesn’t understand sarcasm, he can never tell when people are lying to him, he often doesn’t understand how to talk to his peers, and he has no idea when people are uncomfortable. I have so many examples for this and the first point, but here’s just a small sample: s2e12 (22:15) - not getting that Jeremiah was very uncomfortable with the song, s5e9 (37:20) - when he’s named valedictorian instead of Artie or Tina, he apologizes to them and says that he thinks that things get handed to him, they sarcastically say they haven’t noticed, and Blaine believes them, s5e14 (15:10) - when he asks Kurt if he’s smothering him, and Kurt lies and says no, he believes him even though Kurt is a terrible liar, and (my favorite example of this) in s6e5 (40:15) - saying that he should thank Sue for trapping them in that elevator because now he and Kurt are just friends, and she says, “So thank me” and he actually says thank you (followed by Kurt saying, “Don’t actually thank her!” - amazing).

Third, difficulty regulating emotion. Blaine is very bad at regulating his emotions, especially negative ones. Most notably, anger. Blaine has intense angry outbursts, which will tie in later. Examples of this: season 3 episode 8 (13:50) - getting into a fight with Sam, season 5 episode 14 (26:50 and 27:20) - yelling at Elliot, and season 3 episode 15 (22:35) - outburst at Cooper.

Fourth, trouble keeping up a conversation. Blaine frequently talks about how he’s bad at communication and talking to people, especially about feelings, outside of song. He often has to sing to say bad news or confess things. Examples of this: Singing to tell Kurt about him cheating (s4e4 - 14:30), singing to confess his feelings to Sam (s4e17 - 21:15), singing to tell Kurt he’s not in June’s showcase (s5e20 - 10:40). When he is confronted by a conversation that makes him uncomfortable or that he wasn’t prepared for, he often has to shut down to think about it. Examples of this are when Kurt confesses his crush in season 2 episode 12 (30:40), Sam telling him he knew about Blaine’s crush in season 4 episode 17 (37:10), and the Frat Boy Physicals incident in season 5 episode 16 (21:05).

Fifth, inflection that does not reflect feelings. Generally, Blaine seems to be pretty good at this, especially in comparison to Brittany, but when he gets upset, he does sometimes get weirdly monotoned or just puts on a strange tone of voice. The best example of this I have is in season six, episode four (9:40 and 10:10).

Sixth, difficulty maintaining the natural give-and-take of a conversation; prone to monologues on a favorite subject. This is definitely true, especially when he gets upset about things. Season 5 episode 7 has the best examples of this, he starts by trying to lead the glee club in Mr. Shue’s absence, but he ends up coming on too strong and speaking over his peers (00:40). Next, when Kurt implies that he’s being a puppet master, he gets very upset, and keeps focusing on and coming back to that, even when Kurt tries to change the subject (6:45), and finally, he starts ranting to Brad, and cuts him off when Brad tries to chime in with his problems (11:40). 

Seventh, tendency to engage in repetitive or routine behaviors. Blaine has the most consistent clothing and presentation out of anyone in the show, and as seen in season 3 episode 15 (17:15 and 38:10) and in season 5 episode 6 (28:15), Blaine has been dressing like this and doing his hair the same way since he was a kid. He even owns the same shirt in multiple colors (season 5 episode 6: 27:25). In season 4 episode 17, he talks to Sam about how his daily routine and how he walks the exact same way from class every day (00:45). This is also the first time Blaine mentions efficiency, he measures his routine down to the second, and it being efficient is really important to him. This comes back in season 5 episode 14 when he’s trying to make the loft more efficient (23:05). He also reveals in season 5 episode 20 that he needs to measure the stage before performing in order to improv (7:30).

Eighth, only participates in a restricted range of activities. Now you may be thinking, but Miriam, this doesn’t apply, wasn’t he president of like every club his senior year? Yes, he was, but this actually doesn’t disprove this one. He still really is focused on a few activities like glee club, student council, and school in general. He only signs up for the other clubs in a time of crisis, and he’s never seen doing anything outside of school in college or in seasons 2 or 3 (except for his special interests). And as these are all school clubs, that meet on school grounds, they’re still in his comfort zone. 

Ninth, strict consistency to daily routines, and outbursts when changes occur. So we’ve talked about his routines, what happens when they’re broken? In season 5 episode 14, Blaine attempts to set routines with Kurt, making him breakfast every day, scheduling their days rigorously, etc., which leads Kurt to feeling smothered, but Blaine tells Elliot that he feels like he doesn’t know how to communicate. He feels very uncomfortable with the change of living in New York and the shift in the power dynamic between them. This is reinforced a few episodes later in episode 16, when these issues come back. In addition, episode 16 has an example of Blaine having an outburst when a short-term plan is disrupted. He and Kurt had planned to walk to class together, and Kurt had bailed without telling him, and Blaine gets very upset (23:05). Another example of this is when he finds Tina and Sam making out in season 5 episode 10 (24:45, 29:30). Their plans were disrupted, and he has an outburst/meltdown. Another example of long-term routines being disrupted is in season 3 episode 8. Sam has just come back to McKinley, and immediately, Sam and Blaine dislike each other. They’re both trying to choreograph and don’t like each other’s ideas, and they get into a fight that gets physical. Both of them are having an outburst due to the other invading the other’s space and routines (13:50). This then becomes an example of point three, as Blaine is seen boxing (physical reaction) to regulate his emotions (effectively stimming), which he also does in season 3 episode 15 when he’s angry at Cooper (26:40).

Finally, exhibiting strong, special interests. This one is probably the easiest to prove. Blaine’s special interests include show choir (he knows everything about it, he even reads the show choir blogs - s5e11: 6:50), boxing (he started a fight club at Dalton - s3e8: 14:00), Broadway (when he coaches the Warblers, Karofsky mentions that it’s pulling teeth to get Blaine to use any music that’s not Broadway - s6e3: 00:25), piano, and even music in general. To give some specific examples, Blaine is also known for having some shorter-term interests that he gets just as invested in, the best examples of this are puppet making (I know, I know, but it applies, he gets so into it for that week) from season 5 episode 7, dressing up as a superhero (no neurotypical person could do Nightbird, please) from season 4 episode 7 and season 5 episode 10 (16:45), and star wars fanfiction (he and Sam have a whole conversation about how ewoks are obviously polygamists) from season 5 episode 15 (5:20 and 26:35).

Blaine also has some other general traits. If you’ve ever watched him sing, he is constantly bouncing on his toes. He’s prone to incredibly intense eye contact, and is very sensitive to criticism, rejection, and public embarrassment (Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria - I have too many examples of this to name). Little things that could be interpreted as sensory overload: season 5 episode 7 - hating loud chaotic environments, and lashing out because of it (00:35 and 00:55) and season 6 episode 5 - where he’s the first to say that they should just kiss to get out of Sue’s elevator because he’s getting very hot (29:00). In season 6 episode 1 during the break up scene, Kurt says that Blaine initiated a 3 hour fight about Kurt getting toothpaste on a towel (21:30), which is not neurotypical behavior, and Blaine responds in a way that indicates that it really bothered him. He’s an actor seemingly a very talented one, something that would make sense if he’d been masking his whole life. Finally, he has a very deep connection with Sam, who is clearly neurodivergent. He and Britt are the only people who understand Sam, and there are multiple times where Blaine knows how to calm Sam down when no one else can.

Now there’s also a case to be made about him having a terrible childhood and having some trauma from that, (I strongly believe that he feels like he has to be doing things for people in order for them to love him because of Cooper) but I also think that this is pretty compelling evidence.

The episodes that I found the most evidence in if you want to look for yourself are season 2 episode 12, season 4 episode 11 (this one’s also good for Sam), season 5 episodes 7, 14, 16, and 20, and season 6 episodes 1 and 5.

[dramaticviolincrescendo]

A Fitting Finale: Bringing Ian Full-Circle

Is everyone sick of my essays yet? Excellent. Here’s another anyway!

I’ve been trying to put my finger on what it is about Ian’s story in s11 that I love so much. It’s clear that he’s struggling on a number of levels, and he’s certainly spent the first third of the season under so much stress that it’s impacted his moods and marriage. In 11x04, we began to see hints of the tension breaking, and it made me realize that there’s a common trend in Ian’s behavior throughout the series coming to a head in his final act. It’s part of what has him so passionately advocating for Mickey to get a legal job, communicating their need to hammer out the specifics of what their marriage means, and upset at his own employment status.

From start to finish, Ian has been driven by two important motivators: love and fear.

Ian’s deep sense of love and compassion for others is well documented. We know that he will do anything for his family. I’ve mentioned before that Ian is at his best when he’s with them and his worst when he’s not. They’re his support system, and he’s a key part of theirs. They look after each other and rely on one another when the chips are down. They’re all grown up now, Liam being the exception, but those bonds are strong. They’ve matured and branched out to include Mickey, Tami, Franny, and Freddie. Ian’s heart belongs to his family, and he’s given as much of himself as he can to the people he’s been with over the years in whatever capacity they’ve needed him to.

Ian has also always been a fearful character, though not in the manner we typically visualize. He’s strong and motivated, ambitious and sensible, clever and insightful. When he decides that he wants something, he goes for it, from a South Side thug hovering in his orbit to pursuing the highest military accolades despite his small beginnings. Over and over again, we’ve seen him leap into serious and often strange situations in order to achieve his ends or something for the people he cares about. This man stole a water heater from a dead person’s house with his brother and tried to help his best friend hide a body. Certainly, he doesn’t fit the traditional stereotype. He’s not a coward.

But Ian is terrified—of everything:

·        Not amounting to anything

·        Not being worthy of love

·        Being the center of attention

·        Fading into the background and being forgotten

·        Not being able to help other people or those he loves

·        Not having a path

·        Not being in control of himself

·        Not being enough

He’s never said it. He’s never discussed these issues, except perhaps not having control. That isn’t who he is. That’s never been his way. Maybe we should add fear of communicating too, or fear of being seen as weak.

In s1, Ian makes a lot of brave choices. He comes out to three people, two of them family members, knowing how that is viewed in their neighborhood. When Mickey is after him, Ian takes the battle to his doorstep. He turns his back on an arguably easier life in a nice, middle-class neighborhood and a home with a father who would provide for him to live in the constant struggle to which he has grown accustomed. On the surface, he’s one put together kid. But then there’s Kash. There’s this man who preys on him, a middle child so responsible (and so male) that no one thinks he’d fall into any sort of trap—and Ian is desperate to keep him. He fights Lip over it and so painfully tries to make him understand his perspective, that he’s spending money he should probably be using for things he needs to buy Kash music and baseball tickets, to make him like what Ian does so that they can build their so-called relationship. That Kash is married with kids is unimportant to him; that he’s exploiting Ian’s fear of loneliness and not finding love outside his siblings, unthinkable. We know it. Lip sees it, powerless as he feels to do anything about it. Ian can’t. To date, he never will. He’s blinded by a culture that doesn’t believe such things can happen to males, and until Mickey comes along as a viable outlet for his affections and source of the ones he needs, he’s too afraid to be cautious.

Throughout s2 and s3, Ian makes difficult decisions. They’re not always smart, but it takes great strength to commit to the choices he makes: allowing Monica into his life, voicing even an ounce of his feelings to Mickey, pursuing West Point, and running away. All of them, however, are driven by love and fear alike. He’s vulnerable and needs his mother, the one who slaps Frank for shoving him and listens when he feels alone. She assuages his fears by telling him what he needs to hear: that he can do and be anything. We know there’s a danger in that, especially when she takes him to enlist when he’s nowhere near old enough, but it’s still validating for him. It feeds that need for attention but not too much attention, for understanding but not coddling, for love that originates from someone who isn’t his siblings. We see similar trends emerge: fear of losing Mickey on multiple occasions, fear that he’ll forever be in Lip’s shadow when he receives a letter of recommendation instead of Ian, and fear of never having Mickey’s full affections spiraling into fear of facing his own emotions in the aftermath of the wedding. We’ve seen that Ian runs from what he can’t process. He runs from what he can’t handle. He runs when he’s scared, especially of himself.

It continues repeatedly throughout the series. In s4, Ian is afraid of going backwards and once again losing his position in Mickey’s life. In s5, he’s afraid of being a burden on everyone around him, changing them, and losing control of his own mind. In s6, he’s afraid that this is it: his path and his goals have come to nothing, and he’s doomed to fall into the shadows where no one will ever see or love him. In s7, that fear of himself re-emerges when a patient is hurt on his watch and he has to come to terms with the fact that being better doesn’t mean he’s “cured.” In s8, he’s afraid of the void where Monica and Mickey used to be, and it sends him spiraling into a deeper one he doesn’t fear until it’s too late. In s9, he fears a lack of guidance, an indecisiveness born of having been able to rely on his hallucinations to tell him what to do. His path is gone, and he has no options. And that’s terrifying. Then Mickey is there, and he can put some of his fears to rest until they resurge with the idea of marriage in s10. All of a sudden, he’s back where he was in s5, fearing himself but also what he’ll do to someone he loves.

In s11, we’re seeing an Ian far more like he was in earlier seasons: rigidly devoted to having a plan, knowing what’s coming next, and ticking off certain boxes on the list of things you’re “supposed to do” as a married adult male. He’s spent a lot of this season seeking value in his employment and position in their marriage, and the stress has been dragging him down—quickly.

And it’s no wonder: he has every reason to be scared right now.

The thing about prison is that it is what’s known as a total institution. It is removed from society and, as such, operates under its own social beliefs, values, and norms. Like the military, another total institution, prison involves an initial period of sloughing off roles and identities from the greater society and subsequently being resocialized into a new role set. Upon release, a person undergoes the same process in reverse, and there’s an adjustment period to reintegrate into normal society. We can see that process begin when Ian gets in the car with Lip and shudders a bit, unsettled at the prospect of being outside these walls for the first time in months—going home far earlier than anticipated. For many people, it’s a difficult transformation, especially once they realize the full extent of how your life changes as an ex-convict in the U.S.

Ian doesn’t really get to adjust. From s8 to the start of s11, he undergoes a whirlwind of emotion and change. He literally loses touch with reality, starts a cult, commits a felony, is on the run from law enforcement, allows himself to be captured with one final display, goes to jail, remains unmedicated until he’s bailed out, panics at what his movement became, feels alone in the house as everyone deals with their own business and leaves him to his own devices, seeks guidance from above only to realize it wasn’t what he thought it was, can’t find answers, has warring factions telling him how to plead in court, ostensibly takes a plea deal that requires some amount of time behind bars, goes to prison, finds the love of his life there waiting for him, has to let his sister go, is released without Mickey, gets repeatedly screwed over by a corrupt PO, gets engaged, breaks up (sort of), gets engaged again, sees his wedding venue burned down, gets married, and hurtles straight into a pandemic. That’s… That’s a lot. Being a newlywed in a pandemic is a lot without all the rest of it, but this is what Ian is dealing with going into s11, and he hasn’t had the benefit of a stable readjustment and reintegration period.

He’s drowning.

He’s scared.

He has every reason to be. Marriage is scary, especially if you are so young and so in love with the person you’re marrying. Employment is scary, especially for them, because it could mean the difference between paying the utilities and running out of water. Change in general is scary, especially when it hasn’t done you any favors before.

Add all that to what Ian’s behavior has indicated that he’s been afraid of since the start, and you have a recipe for disaster.

To a great extent, that’s what I think his arc is all about this season: learning how to live again. It’s about not being so afraid of himself that he desperately grasps for any stereotypical structure for married life that he can. It’s about regaining the confidence that has always left him clawing his way to the top instead of letting life beat him down. It’s about finding the happy medium where he and Mickey aren’t doing anything illegal but aren’t stuck in a valueless spiral, scrambling and struggling to pay the bills like when they were kids.

It’s about learning not to be so afraid anymore, and I think that’s a beautiful goodbye for a beautiful character.

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

Were we Gay-Baited? The Issue of Will and Byler/Byeler, a Discussion of Apophenia, Identification, and Empathy

I’ve been struggling with my own feelings since finishing Stranger Things 3. Curiously, I find myself being overcome with rage and disappointment, which isn’t how one is usually meant to feel about a TV show. It wasn’t a bad season by any means, though I do think it was the weakest of the three so far. The one biggest point I find myself stuck on is the treatment of Will Byers, not just as a character, but as a reflection of my own experiences and feelings. Identification happens all the time when we engage with fiction. Sometimes we are meant to do so, while other times it is due to how we interpret otherwise ambiguous aspects of a character or story. It’s an aspect of empathy, as we’re feeling the emotions (or at least what we believe to be the emotions) of a character.  I identified with Will back in Season 1. It looked like they were building, slowly, but surely, towards Will being gay, and I let myself build this idea that his struggles with the Upside Down and the Mindflayer were a metaphor for him coming to terms with these feelings he had for his best friend. I saw the Upside Down as an allegory for being in the closet. A dark, lonely, scary version of the real world. I don’t know if Barb was meant to be seen as a lesbian, but I latched onto that as support for my theory. It was after being left alone by Nancy that she is captured and killed by the Demogorgon. She felt alone and rejected, and subsequently was consumed by the despair that comes with hiding. Will, however, was able to get out due to the overwhelming love and support of his friends and family. Was I wrong to make this assumption? Possibly. Then Season 2 happened, and I don’t know what else we were meant to think.

For reasons we never really find out, at least in the show itself, Will finds himself being stalked by the Mindflayer roughly a year after escaping the Upside Down. This creature wants Will, and apparently only Will. The simple explanation, I suppose, is that it wants what it sees to be his. Will got away, the Mindflayer isn’t ok with that, and this all ensures that our main cast are at the center of the story. I read into it deeper though, which was probably a mistake. This happens during an election year, and Reagan signs are prominently displayed. The AIDS crisis was in full swing, and still mainly seen as a gay disease. Will still doesn’t feel safe, and doesn’t even fully understand how he feels. He flashes back into the Upside Down, feeling targeted and watched. Mike is generally able to pull him back out, and Will seems to seek out the safety of his best friend. Mike is the only one he trusts. Mike is safety, comfort, and unconditional love. He’s special, at least to Will. 

It is again love that saves Will. Joyce, Johnathan, and Mike get through to Will by sharing stories meant to express how they feel about Will. Joyce loves her son, and is proud of his rainbow ship. This was unnecessarily specific if it wasn’t meant to be gay coding. Johnathan shares the building of Castle Byers, Will’s safe haven, after their dad left, The same dad who would call Will a fag. We see Will start to waver, ever so slightly, as they start to reach him, but the kicker is when Mike starts. Mike shares the story of when they first met. He remembers it in surprising detail, and it’s the oldest memory out of the three so far mentioned. Mike is barely keeping himself together as he relates walking up to Will on the first day of kindergarten. He’s so overwhelmed by the memory himself, repeating that Will said yes to being his friend, as if he cherished it immeasurably, and goes on to say it was the best thing he’s ever done. Despite the Mindflayer’s control, Will himself is barely holding back tears at this moment and we see emotion on his face for the first time since being fully possessed. He’s able to start with the morse code. Mike is the one who ultimately broke through. I read this as him being the single most important person in Will’s life, but was it that, or was it simply that he was the last to speak? It’s hard to tell the intent here, especially as Mike’s attention leaves Will as soon as Eleven returns shortly thereafter. All we’re left with is a look at Mike when Will is asked to dance, and his fake smile faltering as he glances at Mike dancing with Eleven. More curious decisions that could be something, or may be nothing.

This brings us to Season 3, where my confusion, annoyance, and anger boil over more with each episode. We start with scenes that I felt did a good job showing an emotional conflict set up by the end of Season 2: how does Mike find room for both Will and Eleven? Mike is shown obsessively attached to Eleven, which is reasonable given his age and his fear of losing her again, and we also see him going to the movies with Will, Lucas, and Max. The latter scene is oddly double-date like, to the point where they don’t sit together, putting Mike and Will separate from Lucas and Max as if to highlight the two separate couples. Lucas and Max get some playful banter in (pretty much the last we see of their relationship this season), and Mike is shown still harboring concern for Will. I found it odd when Mike asked if Will was ok, as Will hadn’t really done anything unusual. The suggestion, at least to me, was that Mike is still paying close attention to Will, and this made sense, as he would have a fear of losing Will the same as he does with Eleven. After this we see Will mope over the amount of time Mike spends with Eleven, but he has no complaints about his other friends. His obsession over D&D is over the top and jarring, and very much out of character. He’s a fully fleshed out character with multiple interests, but all he wants to do is D&D, why? I don’t really have a great answer for that beyond it being bad writing just to set up a later scene. That brings us to their fight, which fully ignited my hopes that they’d continue this build-up.

Will loses it when Mike and Lucas seem to mock his campaign. They don’t really dislike it, they just aren’t engaged due to girl troubles. His anger, though, seems focused on Mike. Will feels betrayed, and laments his loss of the Party due to girls, but he never blames anyone but Mike, even though Lucas and Dustin are similarly focused on girls. He calls El a “stupid girl”, and that wouldn’t be unusual given the situation had we been shown any interactions between El and Will or given exposition to inform us that the two of them get along. Indeed, I got the impression that Will still hasn’t had any meaningful interactions with her, since it’s implied she’s constantly with Mike and only Mike. The only time we see her out with the Party, before the crisis begins anyway, Mike bails with her very quickly. Will resents El. She’s stealing Mike away from him. That’s how I saw it anyway, and I remember feeling that way many a time at that age. At this point, you might still be able to argue it was just Will mad he’s losing his best friend, but then that one line comes. “It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!” 

This line could have been done in any number of other ways if the implication was anything other than Will is gay and has feelings for Mike (any maybe thought Mike might like him as well). Mike could have told Will he needs to grow up or that it’s not his fault Will doesn’t have a girlfriend. But, no, Will simply doesn’t like girls. Will’s reaction speaks volumes, despite him not being able to talk. Up to that point, Will had been jabbing Mike with accusations, but as soon as Mike says this he’s stone silent. Lips quivering and eyes watering, he stares at Mike in disbelief and fear. To his credit, Mike immediately realizes he crossed a line and softens his approach, something we never see him do when he fights with anyone else. The damage is done, however, and Will’s final words “I guess I did. I really did.” screamed of a breakup to me. Will thought it’d be him and Mike forever. He destroys Castle Byers in a rage, berating himself for being stupid. It’s no longer a safe haven for him, as it is filled with memories of his childhood. A childhood spent with Mike.

This whole scene is never addressed again by the two of them. Lucas is shut down in an attempted apology, and I saw this as Will not wanting an apology from him and not willing to discuss the situation. It still felt very aborted, as if that quick scene with Will and Lucas was meant to tell the audience that, nope, we’re not getting into that. He and Mike have no real significant interactions throughout the rest of the season, though Will is shown reacting negatively anytime Mike expresses his feelings for Eleven. Our attention is never really drawn to it, but it’s there. This takes us to the finale, where Mike’s goodbye to Will is oddly quick for friends as close as they were supposed to be. Mike expresses worry that Will would move on and replace him, and Will reassures him that such a thing would never happen. I like how they had Mike smile perhaps his most genuine smile of the season here, but it still felt odd. When they hug outside right before the end, it’s again quick and not indicative of the emotion that should be there. Will seems to linger in the hug a bit, but Mike staggers away to Eleven. Mike’s attention seems to be solely on Eleven as the Byers leave, though he glances back at the house that he shouldn’t really associate with her. The final scene is a near perfect mirror of Season 1 when he thought Will was dead. It was confusing, possibly intentionally so, but why? 

Mr. Clark brings up apophenia when speaking with Joyce. It’s the tendency for humans to spot patterns where there are none. As humans, we like for there to be explanations for everything. There are no coincidences, we just haven’t figured out how things fit together. Part of me wonders if this whole line of conversation was targeted at fans, such as myself, who read too deeply into Mike and Will’s relationship, and possibly Will’s possibly homosexuality. I could understand how it could be used to cast doubt on Joyce’s fears. However, it ends up having no real bearing on the plot, as Joyce is relatively quickly shown to be correct in her suspicions. 

In the end, I’m left to wonder if this whole idea of Will being gay, and possibly Mike and Will being subtextually written as a couple, was simply a case of apophenia. My empathy for Will and identification with him could have caused me to misinterpret things to fit my own personal experiences and unfulfilled adolescent wishes. The dissonance caused by what I thought and what I’m now seeing is what is causing my anger and disappointment. It’s having me relive what I felt so long ago where all I wanted was to see a boy like me happy on TV or in movies. I thought this was going to be what I never had, but, though we still have Season 4 yet to come, it looks like it was simply a case of seeing what we wanted to see. Still, the way they did it reeks of gay-baiting, and I feel used.

[bangtan-gal]

The Latte Boy

The Latte Boy

Taeil x Fem!Reader

Soulmate!AU Barista!AU

Being able to see glimpses of your soulmate’s day was always interesting, but it gets even more interesting when you happen to recognize someone.

A/N: ugh i love taeil

Taylor Taeil the latte boy

“Come on, it will only be for an hour! Plus, you love coffee, why would you turn it down?” Yeri whined as you turned down her offer to go see the newest coffee shop in town. You glanced up from your papers, raising an eyebrow. The two of you were swamped with work and she seemed to think now was a good time to bail.

“We can visit it any other time, why do we have to go now? It’ll still be there a week from now,” you huffed. Yeri groaned at your bored tone and practically fell to the floor in front of you.

“Because it makes us cool to go be one of the firsts to try it!”

    You shoved her away and went back to focusing on the financing papers in front of you. The company had been struggling the past few months and after ignoring it for weeks, it was now too much build-up to just pretend it didn’t exist. You scratched through the numbers, ignoring Yeri’s annoyed scoff and pretending she didn’t aggressively slam your office door shut.

    Yeri was the adventurous, hopeful type while you were the cold opposite. You had no interest in the idea of a soulmate and figured that he or she would just eventually show up when it was time. While others would go on roadtrips to find theirs, you just stayed at home and only thought about it.

But only on occasion.

    In truth, soulmates gave you a lot of advantages in this world. Living would be half-off, certain jobs were easier to get, and traveling was way better. It was the way society worked—those who had found love praised and those who hadn’t just had to sit and wait for that time to come. You were slightly bitter about it, because maybe you didn’t want to be tied to someone in order to be successful. Of course, you still had the childish pull in side of you: the part of you that craved for that feeling of love and warmth. The part of you that knew your soulmate would be absolutely perfect for you.

You worked the rest of the day in silence, refusing to acknowledge Yeri when she loudly came back. She tried to make you jealous and feel bad for not coming, but after years of being friends with the girl, you’d learned to just ignore her instead of engaging. When it got dark outside, you bid her goodbye and hurried home.

You made a quick dinner before settling down in your bed, wrapped tightly in your blankets. The only part of your day that was the same as always, that was calming, and in general was the one thing you could actually look forward to. The time when you got to see your soulmate’s day in flashes. Yes, your opinions around soulmates were… debatable, but the society grew up taught you to be excited about your connection. So you always were.

You closed your eyes and sank back, allowing the images to flood your mind. A messy bed, petting a cat, the same nice car you’d seen millions of times before, and then your soulmate stirring a cup of coffee. The imagery changed as they turned around and you stiffened up, jerking out of the image. You’d recognize Yeri anywhere and there she was in the background, sipping at a cup and laughing at something.

He’s in town, you thought dumbly, staring at the wall. They were a barista at the new coffee shop. You laid back down, heart racing as you wondered if you should go find him tomorrow. It’s how the universe works, it won’t be weird if I just barge in there and tell him who I am.

↮↮↮↮

    Unfortunately for your soulmate, you were a wimp. You couldn’t find it in yourself to even go near the coffee shop. And unfortunately for your co-workers, you became more grumpy as the weeks passed. You barely slept, your mind was focused on him, and you couldn’t drink coffee anymore without him invading your mind.

    Last night it’d been confirmed that he was male or at least had male… organs. In an odd circumstance you’d seen a glimpse of him changing and his well… you know. You blushed again as the image scarred your face again and you buried your head in your arms.

“Yo, we got a new business partner,” Johnny said as he walked into your office. Yeri poked up from her computer, looking excited.

“Who?”

“Golden Mugs,” he said and then glanced at you. “Boss wants you to write out the packet for them.”

    Golden Mugs, of course. The new coffee place where he worked. You glanced up at Johnny, opening your mouth and then closing it. It made no sense for the company to work with a small coffee shop, but of course it happened. You’d tried avoiding your other half and the universe was going to force you into a tight room with him.

“Uh, kay,” you squeaked out and then coughed, blushing when Johnny skeptically stared at you. You quickly started writing the packet, all the basic information burned into your mind. Johnny muttered a confused okay and then left your office. And then Yeri started talking loudly.

“Do you know how amazing it will be to have a coffee place as a work partner. Does that mean free coffee? OMIGOSH what if they move a second store in here, then we won’t have to drive downtown to get it. Just go downstairs and if it’s the same cute barista… ugh eye candy,” she sighed, flicking a piece of hair behind her shoulder. You prayed that your soulmate wasn’t the barista Yeri wouldn’t shut up about and that they wouldn’t move a store in here.

Although, having him work here would be convenient, wouldn’t it?

“Y/N,  I don’t think you understand just how cute this guy is… ugh his smile is so precious and he’s kinda short, but he’s absolutely adorable. And every time I’ve talked to him, he’s so charming. I wonder what his connection is,” she hummed thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair. Your stomach roiled and you stood up, slamming your laptop shut and leaving the office.

    You hurried to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, letting out a loud sigh. This soulmate was really getting to you and you just needed time alone. You groaned and ended up buckling. You called your manager, claiming to have a stomach ache and left the office for the day. You didn’t go in for the next two days, escaping the meeting between all the workers and binge-watched k-dramas on Netflix.

    Yeri called you once, loudly complaining about how she had to do the introduction packet because you were gone. She chattered about how Johnny made her do it multiple times before it was “perfect” and how it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know how to do one. You hummed the whole time, pretending you were actually listening as you counted the rain drops on your window.

    You tried to call out sick on Friday as well, but Johnny caught your lie and demanded you come in.  You groaned when he hung up and struggled into a pair of jeans and a semi-nice t-shirt. Walking into work was dreadful as you commiserated silently about your soulmate. Why did you have to be such a coward? Why couldn’t you just go talk to him? Who in your family gave you such social anxiety?     You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the man rushing through the lobby with a carrier of drinks. Coffee went everywhere, all over you, him, and the floor. You stared in horror, eyes widening and jaw dropping. You groaned, covering your eyes as you apologized profusely, happily accepting the towel that was handed to you. The two of you and someone else worked to quickly clean up and you dabbed in vain at your shirt, sighing when the stain didn’t come out.

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve been paying attention,” you grumbled, looking up. A man with black hair stared back at you, it neatly smoothed to the side, with only a few strands falling loose. He was beautiful, his white teeth flashing in a nervous smile and a small dimple poking out on his cheek. His lips were full and pink and—

“You’re good,” he murmured as he stood up. He held out a hand to you and you accepted it. He pulled you up and then his gaze darted to your joined hands, where it felt as if a fire had started. His gaze moved from your hand to the small tattoo on your wrist that you’d gotten a few years ago while drunk. He blinked, tilting his head and then looking back up at you. “You can see your soulmate’s day, right?”

You blinked at him, wondering how he knew that.

“Uh yeah?” You mumbled, “erm…”

    Your eyes ran over him and then you recognized the uniform he wore. Golden Mugs. You looked back up at him and then your eyes roved over his slightly tanned skin. There was something about his body you recognized and it was all too much of a coincidence for him to be just a person.

“So is yours?” You asked, your eyes unconsciously flickering towards his crotch before you looked away with a flush. He nodded.

You hoped he hadn’t seen you naked as well.

“Y/N,” you whispered, squeezing his hand.

“Taeil.”

“OH GOD THE COFFEE!”

    You glanced over, watching as Yeri ran over, looking absolutely devastated by the mess on your shirts. She threw her head back and screeched. You pressed your lips together, giving the over-dramatic girl an unimpressed look. She grabbed Taeil’s arm, another loud whine escaping her.

“How could you let this happen?” She gasped, staring up at him. You suddenly remembered her talking non-stop about the beautiful barista with a bright smile and unconsciously stepped between them.

“It’s just coffee,” you snapped, eyes narrowing. “Calm down.”

    She stared back at you, eyes widening and then opening her mouth. Johnny called her over and you became aware of the group of people staring at you. There were small smiles on everyone’s face and it hit you that most of them probably just experienced your little… realization. Johnny waved at you and then glanced towards the door before he ushered everyone away.

“I’d say coffee… but I think I’ve had enough of that today. Food?” He hummed, taking your hand again and then leading you towards the doors. You nodded, staring at your intertwined hands and letting out a giddy sigh.

There really was an upside to having a soulmate.

[thesummerstorms]

I still feel as if there’s a pretty large disconnect between Queen’s Shadow Padmé Amidala and the Padmé of other stories, in particular The Clone Wars.

Queen’s Shadow is closer to the Padmé I want, which is part of why I read the book so quickly and why I enjoyed it. But there were multiple points where I caught myself thinking this is “a little AU”.

You could probably argue (and I would probably accept the argument) that a large part in the difference in her characterization is what role the writers see her fulfilling in the story. In The Clone Wars in particular, Padmé I think you can make a strong argument that Padmé is very seldom written with her own characteristics and arcs in mind. She’s often reduced to Anakin’s wife and motivation for an eventual fall, or else to the Jedi’s convenient political ally or excuse to get involved in Senate business. 

By contrast, Queen’s Shadow is directly concerned with her characterizations and motivations. As a novel focused on Amidala as a character, it of course also frames her more positively by virtue of her being the protagonist. Rather than the primary concern being her use to facilitate a crisis or resolution for other characters, this is a story where her decisions and values by necessity drive the plot. That definitely makes a difference.

But even that aside, in many places Amidala just reads differently when you compare her to her most direct arcs in other prequel era materials.

The book tries to address the concern that Amidala failed to do anything for Shmi Skywalker by sending Sabé , a handmaiden, off screen to look for (and fail to find) Shmi. And it positions Amidala as someone who’s strongly concerned by slavery but who is purposefully kept from being able to legislatively address the issue by the manipulations of Palpatine (who I suppose is putting her off as keeping Shmi out of the picture keeps Anakin off balance? It’s implied, not addressed) and by her own lack of stature in the Senate. 

The closing scene also indicates that Amidala continued to draft “years” of anti-slavery legislation as well as a clone personhood bill for both during and after the war (which is topically related, as the clones are de facto Republic slaves.) It also spends a lot of time establishing Amidala as someone who had very strong morals in private, but spoke rhetorically in her politics, disguising her positions in order to work around to persuasion slowly. Someone who repeatedly worries about forgetting the effect of her policies on the common people because she remembers the invasion of Naboo and holds its effects as her touchstone.

That’s all super interesting, and honestly, it’s closer in line with the Senator Amidala I want to read.

But I also don’t know that reading of the character works with the arc we see of Padmé raising votes in the Senate to reject a funding bill to expand the Clone Army based not on the premise of sentient rights, but for funding. Yes, you can argue the politician card and I absolutely believe a rhetorical strategy based on humanizing the clones would have failed on the Senate floor- but in the entirety of The Clone Wars series, we never hear her express concern for the Clone’s personhood even once, even to close allies (and supposed like-minded reformers/humanists [for lack of a better term]) such as Bail Organa. The Senate arc would have been an opportune moment for Padmé to mention even in passing the untenable situation of purchasing men to fight a war they didn’t choose to fight and can’t refuse or escape... and it doesn’t happen.

 There’s also the fact she didn’t know that her aid, Teckla, had no water or electricity in the same arc, when Queen’s Shadow repeatedly emphasizes her deep closeness to her aides and hand-picked staff, and even explicitly discusses how she has to carefully examine her own desires and actions, deliberately not asking for specific things or changing how she approaches them to make sure she isn’t abusing the power she has in the relationship. The contrast is ... strange.

Even the establishment of her past with Clovis seems inconsistent. Again, what we get in Queen’s Shadow is what I want for the character, but it doesn’t always feel as if lines up with what we saw in The Clone Wars. Admittedly, I couldn’t finish the “Rise of Clovis”/”Crisis of the Heart” episodes because I found Anakin’s behavior uncomfortable, and I didn’t find “The Senate Spy”/”An Old Friend” particularly engaging. 

But Shadow establishes Rush Clovis as someone Padmé actively is trying to avoid being courted by and, frankly, doesn’t respect, either for his motivations or his competency. There’s a brief while where the two become unlikely allies attempting to serve a people on the brink of extinction with emergency Senate legislation, and Padmé begins to soften towards him. But then he kisses her without consent, and she’s furious enough that she not only loses all kindness towards him, but directly calls him out for disrespecting her agency. I dislike Clovis, and enjoyed that scene- but it also raised serious questions for me about her later Clone Wars era behavior, even if you accept that she was trying to earn his confidence in order to act as a spy.

Overall, I really did enjoy Queen’s Shadow. It’s very much a character-driven novel, and sometimes the plot is a little thin, but I’m drawn to stories for characterization anyway. But ultimately I’m left a little unsure about how to reconcile the protagonist we were given, as interesting as I found her, with her larger self in the rest of the universe. That leaves me a little uncertain how to place Queen’s Shadow as a novel in the larger GFFA as well.

[prorevenge]

Dispute over an alarm clock ends a career.

A recent petty revenge story made me remember this experience from my teenage years, but this one definitely went all the way to pro. Strap in, it's going to be long. tl;dr at end.

So, just before my senior year in high school I turned 18 and bought a car with my saved up years of babysitting money. I'd have liked one sooner, but my mother absolutely refused. At 18 in my big act of teenage rebellion, I went out and bought one.

A couple months later, Auntie Asshole suddenly left her job from several states away and moved in with us. Without her car. It cost less if she waited six months until spring to get it shipped. Something about snowbird travel patterns. She was cheap and a user as well as an asshole.

As I result I was expected to share my recently acquired car with Auntie Asshole until hers arrived. This seemed deeply unfair, but nonetheless it was agreed upon that she could use it for appointments and job interviews since I could take the school bus. I needed to be warned in advance because my bus stop was the second one of the route. It left a lot earlier than I needed to if driving direct, and I liked sleep.

You may be wondering about now what this has to do with an alarm clock. Auntie Asshole is one of those people who likes to rile people up, then mock them for getting pissed off. She's always got a complaint, harsh word, and is feuding with somebody over something. Once she moved in with us, her complaint was my alarm clock. My room shared a wall with hers. The alarm was waking her mooching, unemployed, broke ass up every morning, and that pissed her off. Couldn't I just go to bed earlier so I didn't need an alarm clock?

The morning schedule at our house went something in the ballpark of this:

5:30 AM my workaholic mother leaves for the office.

5:45 AM my alarm goes off if taking the bus to school

6:15 AM my alarm goes off if driving to school

6:15 I leave if taking the bus to school

6:45 I leave if driving to school

Half past never: Auntie asshole's unemployed toushie needs to be anywhere

Auntie Asshole approached my workaholic mother about the horrific inconvenience of my using an alarm clock. Her solution was that my mother should wake me up every day at 5:30 before leaving. My mother told her to try earplugs or work it out between us. Workaholic Mother was massively non-confrontational and wanted no part of an Auntie Asshole dispute.

Auntie Asshole started sneaking into my room to unplug the clock after I fell asleep. I'm a hard sleeper, so she pulled this off a few times. I had a good number of tardies before I figured out it wasn't the new cat who initially got blamed. Woke up to see her standing over my bed one night. CREEPY! I screamed like a banshee waking the whole house. She claimed sleepwalking, and my mother let her get away with that lame excuse.

I endeavored to solve the problem myself with some superglue. Not the brightest move I made. That house got sold with a bonus electric blue alarm clock, and Auntie Asshole started turning the alarm off instead of unplugging it. So I started sleeping with my alarm clock tucked behind my pillow. No way Auntie Asshole could do anything to it without waking me now.

She was PISSED at having not gotten her way, and never let anything go ever. Auntie Asshole's next move was to get up when the alarm went off and race into the only bathroom with a shower. It was closer to her room than mine, so she always beat me there. She'd stash magazines in there to sit on the commode reading until right around 6:20. This is after the school bus has left, but still before I need to leave driving direct. Once I was taking a very rushed shower, she'd steal my keys and take my car ... wherever the hell the unemployed go to drive around all day.

She claimed that I just wasn't paying attention when she said she needed the car. She wasn't telling me. When my mother wasn't around, she made snide remarks that if she was woken up she had just as much right to the bathroom as I did. I could solve this problem by not waking her up. In addition to this she would take my car evenings and weekends always right before I had babysitting gigs. It never returned with more than fumes in the gas tank. She had to call roadside assistance twice for running out of gas because she'd guessed wrong on how far she could get on fumes.

Needless to say I was pissed. Also massively inconvenienced, and a lot poorer. I had beg friends for last minute rides or take a cab. She continued to blame me, and my mother stayed out of it. We got into a cat and mouse game with my keys where I eventually kept them on me at all times - even in the shower (this was an old car some years back; no electronic keys were harmed). The keys came in the shower with me because the counter wasn't enough to stop her from pulling the bathroom lock (pocket door; trivial) and coming in while I was showering to take them. Again, CREEPY! This eventually resulted in her asking in advance to borrow my car for a "job interview" that probably wasn't. She went to the key shop and got my car keys copied.

The next day, my keys safely back in my possession, she pulls the shower stunt again. She did it a lot even when she wouldn't take my car. Auntie Asshole was an asshole. I head out to the driveway keys in hand, and my car's not there. Legit thought she'd hot-wired it until I got home and it showed no signs of tampering. I'm not much for poking the bear, but it was time to have this out. Auntie Asshole quite smugly admitted to copying the key, called me a selfish bitch who didn't know how to share, and many other unfortunate things I don't remember exactly. She wasn't giving it back. What was I going to do?

I warned her that car was mine and she did not have permission to use it ever again. This was a bridge too far for me. There would be consequences. She laughed in my face.

The next morning my car was not in the driveway. I'd expected this. My best friend's dad was a cop. I was practically a fixture in his house for a decade, and he was the closest thing I had to a father figure due to my own deadbeat dad. So I gave him a call utterly distraught that the car I've worked so hard to get has been stolen from my driveway. He's very sympathetic. Did I mention my car had LoJack? It was actually a very nice car ... back when it was new anyway. We do all the reporting and whatever it takes for the cops to find it with LoJack.

By mid-afternoon they'd found it in the parking lot of an outlet mall. I don't know what the full details of the encounter were as I've heard multiple versions of this part of the story over the years. She had some kind of bitch tizzy on them upon being accused of theft including a tussle with an officer. It ended in charges of grand theft auto, resisting arrest, assaulting an officer, and some kind of license-related thing because she'd never switched it to her new state of residence. Don't throw a bitch tizzy at a cop. They don't like it much.

As this all took some time, she didn't get arraigned that day. As her unemployed broke ass had horrid credit and little money, she couldn't make bail. As I deleted her answering machine message begging my mother to come bail her out, my workaholic mother didn't even notice she was gone for almost a week. Once workaholic mommy did notice, I explained that my car had been stolen and I called the cops. I was handling the situation myself like she suggested. The look of dawning horror was amazing, then she shrugged and went back to avoiding all confrontation. Auntie Asshole served two weeks in county lockup until she took a plea deal. I suspect they slow walked her paperwork a bit.

What happened after was glorious revenge. Auntie Asshole's remaining savings were used up on all the fines and court fees, so she finally got around to shipping her car and engaging in a job hunt. One problem, she was previously a teacher. She'd yet to get her certification in her new state. Now she had a rap sheet and was unable to pass the background check. Whoops! Time for a new career as a telemarketer.

Auntie Asshole didn't bother me much after that. I learned years later she only went after kids hard, and I had proved enough of an adult she realized there were consequences for her actions. We spent the next few months ignoring each other before I headed to college.

And that's how a dispute over an alarm clock ended Auntie Asshole's teaching career.

tl;dr: Asshole aunt moves in and can't handle an alarm clock going off in the morning. Escalates dispute to the point of regularly taking my car without permission and making me miss school. I call cop friend to report missing car. It has lojack. She's dumb enough to get into a tussle with a cop when caught. Goes to jail for a bit. Can no longer pass background check, thus loses teaching career.

Edited to answer a few repeat questions:

What's up with your mother? Mental illness. She was not a bad person. She simply had almost no capacity to deal with conflict and retreated into her work as a coping mechanism. With time and understanding, I am sympathetic to her role. She has since passed away.

Why didn't you call the cops sooner? I had never dealt with anybody so lacking boundaries like Auntie Asshole before. I genuinely thought there was a limit, and I just had to handle things until we got there in the name of family harmony. It was also supposed to be temporary. I had college coming up quick and she was supposed to find a job/apartment, so it was very time bounded. It's the nuclear option to call the cops on a family member, and a very scary thing to contemplate at 18 years old. I also wasn't sure it would work given she could claim I was confused about permission and the chances my mother would back me up were close to zero. Once I still had my keys in hand and no car in the driveway, that was a game changer in my eyes.

Can we get more of an epilogue? There's not a lot to say. I went no contact with Auntie Asshole after leaving for college. Between her prison stint and my departure, she ignored me and I returned the favor. I found out later that she only seriously picks on kids. I'd proved myself an adult who could deliver consequences for her actions. Now I spend holidays with my husband's lovely family and visit the stable family members at other times. Somehow I have hair washing to do every reunion. Whoops. She's never gone back to teaching, thank goodness.

(source) (story by sunnykl)

[mariaarnt]

Attack of the Clones Canon Divergence Poly OT3 Plot Bunny

So I dreamed the ENTIRETY of this last night, and I absolutely love it. However, since I literally need to crank out an entire YA novel by November (in addition to editing and publishing the first two in the series), I do not have the time it deserves to write it. Come December, I’ll have the new sequel to inspire me, and will likely write about that instead of more prequel stuff nobody cares about.

But, since my muse DEMANDS validation, I must share the idea with you. Because the summary I cranked out in a couple hours is very long and I respect your time and dash space, I’ll put it under a cut.

Super short version: because things went differently in AoC, Padme, Anakin, & Obi-wan end up in a Poly relationship, fight Palpatine and win, and Padme becomes Supreme Chancellor. I promise it makes sense but you gotta read the long version for that.

Follows the plot of AoC until

Padme insists on going with Anakin when he goes to find his mother. She’s able to comfort him & keep him calm. He can’t slaughter the Tusken village & protect her at the same time, so they simply leave undetected with Shmi’s body.

They arrive back in time to receive Obi-wan’s message live. The conversation is very short as Padme convinces him they should rendezvous nearby & he can use her ship’s more powerful communications array to contact the Jedi council. He quickly agrees & is able to leave Geonosis before the droids find him.

After they rendezvous, Obi-wan contacts the Jedi council & tells them about the Clone Army. When they suggest that they should use it to invade Geonosis, Padme butts in and warns the council that this would start a war they’re not prepared to fight. The clones were commissioned for the Republic, so the Senate should decide what to do with them. They reluctantly agree.

With no imminent emergency, Palpatine is not granted special powers. The Senate bickers about what to do with the army. A growing faction, including Padme, Bail Organa, & Mon Mothma, believe they should allow the Separatists to secede & have their own government in order to prevent a cataclysmic war. Palpatine is not happy with this, and his warmongering efforts cause him to begin to lose control of the Senate.

Padme continues to work with Obi-wan & Anakin to mediate issues concerning the Clone Army. Since they were commissioned by a Jedi (allegedly) but for the Republic, there’s still some question as to jurisdiction. The Jedi complain that there are too few of them to keep the peace in such volatile times, and if they were allowed to lead the army as generals they could do better. The Senate’s compromise is to deploy the Clone Army as a peacekeeping force in place of the Jedi, answering to the local government authorities. They are particularly used in areas that are being harassed by the Separatists who have expressed no desire to join them. The Separatists likewise deploy their droid armies to areas they are having difficulty holding on to. All action takes place terrestrially, and besides a few skirmishes with locals, there is no active fighting between the two forces, although there are several very tense standoffs. The end result is a cold war, with stockpiling continuing until they are close to reaching assured mutual destruction.

Throughout this time Padme, Anakin, & Obi-wan all become extremely close with each other. The unresolved sexual tension between Padme & Anakin is nearly unbearable, but Anakin does his best to respect her wishes (it’s very Victorian lol, lots of situations where they end up in close physical contact, or try to comfort each other without giving in, etc). Padme & Obi-wan find each other incredibly intellectually stimulating, often engaging in “wit-sparring” when one of them plays the devil’s advocate, until Anakin about wants to throttle them both. And as Anakin matures into adulthood, Obi-wan finds that their brotherly bond is deepening into something the Jedi would likely disapprove of. (But he made a promise to Master Qui Gon and he is determined to see it through).

Finally, one day Padme decides to take action (as usual). She sits them both down in private. First, she tells Anakin that she’s reconsidered their conversation at Varykino, and she has come to agree with him. She’s tired of pretending that there is nothing between them. When Obi-wan uncomfortably objects that maybe he shouldn’t be present for this conversation, Padme turns to him & explains that she has fallen in love with him too, she just thought it was best to tell Anakin first so he didn’t go on a jealous rampage. (They all agree she’s probably right, even Anakin). Then she notes that she may not be a Jedi, but even she can tell there’s something between the two of them, too. Obi-wan turns bright red & objects that this would be completely inappropriate to a Master-padawan relationship, while a surprised Anakin says he thought it was actually part of that relationship, and to be expected. Besides, he should have been allowed to do his trials by now anyway (he salty) so it shouldn’t matter.

Padme asks, and stresses that she’s asking, not requesting or demanding, if they would be willing to leave the Jedi order & get married. 3-person marriages are not unheard of on Naboo, and before Kings & Queens were elected, they often had multiple spouses (as many as 5) as the emotional care & support of a regent was often too much work for one person. Anakin immediately agrees without hesitation. He’s had it up to here with the Jedi order, and he would do anything for her. Obi-wan is a little more reticent. He had considered leaving once Anakin passed his trials, as his duty to his own Master would have been fulfilled. But he feels the need to disclose his previous & ongoing love for Satine Kyrze. Padme says she can certainly understand if he would rather go to her, although it pains her to say so. Obi-wan simply smiles sadly and says “she never asked me to leave, though.” He just wants them to know the relationship exists. He doesn’t want to go into this with secrets.

That decided, Padme reveals that the reason she is asking now is that Bail & Mon Mothma (among others) have been encouraging her to make a bid for the position of Supreme Chancellor. Palpatine’s insanity is starting to show, and while it’s uncommon for subsequent Chancellors to come from the same planet, her calm & reasoned handling of the Two Armies Incident has garnered her a lot of support. It’s becoming clear that a war would last decades, if not centuries, and would probably only end in the entire dissolution of civilization as they know it. But she doesn’t think she has the strength to do it without them, and if they remained with the Jedi there would always be rumors that she was being used as a puppet. The Jedi are still largely out of favor as they seem resentful for being removed from their role as peacekeepers in the galaxy and relegated to spiritual leaders only, despite it being more consistent with their philosophy. Freed from their responsibility to the Jedi, Obi-wan could act as an impartial advisor to those things concerning the Jedi. Anakin says he’s not sure how he could help beyond emotional support, he’s terrible at politics, and they both kind of stare at him for a moment. “Anakin, you can be very intimidating sometimes,” Padme tells him. “Uh, thanks?” he says sarcastically. Obi-wan catches on easily. “Sometimes, it’s easier to get things done quickly if there’s a little intimidation behind the request,” he explains. “Oh, so I’m going to be the enforcer?” he asks, a little offended. Then he sits there and thinks about it a minute. “Yeah, I could do that. I’d probably be good at it,” he grins. “Do I get a title? A lot easier to be intimidating when people have to call you “lord” so-and-so.”

This leads to a not-unrelated conversation where Anakin admits that Palpatine has said some very concerning things to him & he is beginning to suspect he may have dabbled in the dark side of the Force (he’s also not sure how he feels about that). Padme agrees and admits that one of the reasons she’s been so resistant to a relationship with Anakin for so long was partly because her old mentor seemed so bent on pressuring her into it. It seemed wrong, especially when Anakin was so young and she thought it would essentially ruin his future. Obi-wan also agrees that it often seemed that Palpatine seemed to be trying to supplant his place as Anakin’s Master, but as he often found himself at a loss for how to guide him, he couldn’t gainsay the additional advice.

Padme & Obi-wan begin to discuss the logistics of them leaving the order (this will be his 4th time so he’s old hat at it) and getting married so as to minimize the political scandal. Anakin seems to be having trouble paying attention & keeps staring at the door. Padme makes a joke about him being impatient as she is to get it over with, but he says “Something’s wrong. Something’s… coming.” Just then the chime for her front door sounds. They sit in silence for a moment, and Obi-wan says the classic “I have a bad feeling about this,” line. Padme decides to answer via an interior room’s communication panel, rather than at the door. Anakin & Obi-wan take places to ready for an attack. At the door is a young woman, one of Palpatine’s aides. No one else is visible on the security camera, but Anakin says he can sense at least 5 more people, and Obi-wan agrees. Padme turns on the audio and says she’s in a private meeting and asks what it is the aide needs. She’s informed that Palpatine has sent to make sure that Padme is alright, as there is breaking news of Jedi attacking Clone Army units & local government throughout the galaxy, and he understood she was likely to be in the company of two Jedi. (In truth, he’s executed order 66 and spun it as incited by the Jedi). Padme responds that no, she’s just fine, and thank you for your concern.

Apparently, this is the wrong answer. The door bursts open, and a unit of clone troopers storms in. These are men that Anakin & Obi-Wan know personally, have worked with, and it’s extremely unsettling to be fighting them. In the process, Anakin’s arm is cut off when he hesitates. (Is he distracted by Padme or Obi-wan getting hurt? Does he freeze when thinks he must kill Commander Cody, a friend? Haven’t decided). But the three of them manage to prevail until they have one injured Clone Trooper left - Commander Cody. Despite his injuries, Anakin uses his pain to gain the power to pull the necessary information from his mind (think Kylo Ren, definitely dark side stuff). He learns the truth about Order 66, and breaks the chip. They rush Anakin and Cody to a medcenter, where Padme turns on the holonet and they see the violence unfolding all over the galaxy. Because the Jedi were not actively working with the clone troopers, it has not been as quick or as successful. The Jedi temple is under siege. Anakin expresses concern for the fate of the younglings within and argues that they should go fight to liberate the temple, despite the fact that he is actively being fitted for a prosthetic arm. When Obi-wan protests, Anakin argues that he can just use the pain to his advantage. Obi-wan chastises him for giving in to the dark side, but Anakin just yells “does it matter which side I use if I’m saving lives? If I’m protecting people???” Without a good argument to the contrary, Obi-wan shuts up.

Padme, however, does have a good argument. Vigilante action is likely to just get them killed along with all the other Jedi. She’s just received word that an emergency session of the Senate is being called. If they can bring Commander Cody’s confession as evidence, it’s more than enough to get Palpatine impeached for abuse of power. They rush to the Senate building, and Bail has already started proceedings for a vote of no confidence. When they present the evidence, Palpatine loses his shit and pulls his “I AM the Senate!” nonsense. Think Yoda-vs-Palpatine in the 3rd movie, but the whole Senate is there and it’s Palpatine vs. Obi-wan & Anakin together. But by now, they’ve learned how to be an effective team, and Anakin has the element of surprise as he absorbs Palpatine’s lightning and throws it right back in his face. (There’s some comment along the lines of “bitch, please, you’re the one who told me how to do this shit).

At the end of the fight, they have Palpatine pinned but they won’t hold him for long. Obi-wan is arguing that they should try to find a way, that he must stand trial, but Anakin is arguing he’s too powerful. They both look to Padme. She knows that this will probably destroy her shot at the Chancellery, but it’s the right thing to do. She tells Anakin to do what he thinks is right. He kills Palpatine. They retrieve Commander Cody, and he helps them figure out how to rescind Order 66. A lot of damage has been done, but the Temple held fast and the losses, while significant, are not even half of the Jedi order as a whole.

In the aftermath, the Jedi Council rules that while killing Palpatine was likely the right course of action, Anakin’s use of the Dark Side makes him ineligible to become a Jedi Knight and he must leave the order. He has the distinct pleasure of telling them the equivalent of, “you can’t fire me, I quit.” A beaming Obi-wan declares that he’s out, too. Bail Organa has been given interim control of the Senate, but he makes it clear that it’s only until things calm down. Padme, Anakin, and Obi-wan are married in a quiet but public ceremony. Shortly after, the Senate reconvenes and surprisingly elects Padme anyway. Apparently, her decision to support Anakin’s argument was actually widely accepted (it’s pretty clear the trial would have ended in the same way anyway). She almost immediately becomes pregnant (dammit Anakin and his super-special chosen-one Force-sperm lol) but she’s confident navigating that at the process of reforming the Republic into a Federation. The galaxy has grown too big to be ruled directly. It will be split into individual factions who agree to a loose constitution of basic rights and laws, but the particulars are left to the rule of the region. The Separatists are offered a seat at the Federation table, and surprisingly, they take it (without Palpatine pushing his buttons, Dooku makes a remarkably capable leader). Peace reigns in the Galaxy, Padme retires the role of Chancellor and they go to live on the estate that Obi-wan apparently now inherits (along with lots of money) and all raise a very happy and well-adjusted Luke & Leia.

Anakin still kind of wants to strangle Padme & Obi-wan when they argue though.

[one-night-story]

I Got a Premonition that Tonight is Getting Strange (Arthur Curry/Aquaman)

Allie walked through the door of her old home town pub that she hadn’t been in since she was way younger than she should’ve been. She looked around at the “fisherman chic” decor that hadn’t changed since she had left. She took a breath and made her way to the bar. The bartender had her back to her, so he didn’t immediately see that she had sat down. Her usual spot felt almost comforting if it weren’t for the sense of whiplash she felt being there. The wood was scored the same from the knives she had scratched into it, the seat felt different from the crease she had carved when she was younger, and the pens and paint marks were still there from when she had finished school projects there. The bartender turned around and looked in awe at Allie.

“Baby sis you’ve gotta be kidding,” The bartender, or more accurately her older brother Mark said with awe.

“What? Thought I wouldn't come?” She asked with a sly smirk. Mark got out from behind the bar and hugged her tight.

“No, it’s just… life’s been so weird since you left.” He said.

“Yeah I heard.” She said with a chuckle. “Sounds like we’ve got a celebrity.” She remarked as she let him go back to his job. Their tiny town of Amnesty Bay had made headlines recently for being the hometown a superhero. She had only heard bits and pieces, but she knew the media called him “Aquaman” and conspiracy theorists thought he was from Atlantis. Amnesty Bay knew his name was Arthur Curry and as far as they knew, human.

“Didn’t you two date?” He asked. Allie felt the blood and warmth rush to her cheeks. She quickly hid it by running her hand through her hair.

“No, the thought didn’t even cross my mind. You know how I am about relationships.” Allie lied as her brother made her a rum and coke. The thought had crossed her mind. Multiple times. Though she never wanted to admit to herself or anyone.

“Yeah, yeah, “if you wanna be my lover, you have to tell me in exact words because I am oblivious.”” He said verbatim from her old mantra when they were in high school. “I am glad you’re back home though. Haven’t seen you in ages baby sis.” He added. Allie rolled her eyes at being called baby sister again. They were only a year apart, but she got the “baby” label.

“Whatever old man, just wish it were for circumstances that didn’t involve you getting married...” She replied. The duo went silent for a moment as Mark rolled her eyes handed her drink over to her.

“You know she’s not that bad once you get to know her.” He replied.

“Well, you guys didn’t really make an effort to come out and introduce her to me.” She stated. Mark conceded and she smirked. She made a gestures in cheers and took a sip of her drink. She found herself not flinching at the taste. Her older brother had remembered she liked more coke in her rum in coke. Truth was she had never gotten drunk because she couldn’t stand the taste of straight alcohol. Didn’t stop her in college and even late high school, but when you grow up in and around a bar, the idea of getting blackout drunk doesn’t really appeal as much. She watched her brother as she took care of the other patrons around the immediate bar. Allie zoned in and out, running her fingers over the carvings in the bar. They were stupid, but they made her smile a little on the inside. A sign that no matter how much she had changed; this place would be here. Hell, this place could probably survive the apocalypse. She wouldn’t put it past the place. When she came zoned back into her present space, or perhaps what had caused her to zone back in, was the sudden appearance of someone who the bar greeted fondly. Someone sat down next to her and initially she didn’t pay them any mind, if they were a problem, Mark would warn her.

“Mark, how’s the evening treating you?” The person asked. She smiled a little at that. His voice was deep and kind, she recognized it, but she didn’t know where from, seeing as he knew her brother’s name was as good as a sign as any that he was a regular.

“Well it improved with your arrival.” Mark joked as he put a beer down. The man laughed, seemingly catching on her brother’s subtle innuendo.

“What would your fiancée think?” He said.

“Ah, for you Arthur, I think she’d understand.” Mark replied. Allie felt her hair stand up. Arthur? Their local celebrity superhero, her for a period of time unadmitted crush (junior year was a dark time, and he gave the best hugs when one is coming out of a bathroom post crying session, not to mention the handful classes they had together and him going out of his way to bond with her when he could). Allie glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and was greeted with an arm covered in tattoos and about the size of her head and the guy attached had thick curly hair tied up in a bun and a beard. She looked down at her glass and would’ve downed it, had there been anything in it.

“Big bro, what’s a girl gotta do to get a refill? Turn into a burly super hero?” She joked. Mark rolled her eyes.

“And here I thought I was gonna give you an employee discount.” He said.

“Hey, I’m still on the payroll, I’ll give myself a discount thank you very much.” Allie replied. She felt Arthur’s eyes on her.

“Oh no you will not.” Mark replied as he placed a new drink in front of her. “Arthur, you remember my baby sister Allie.” Mark said causing Allie to have to acknowledge Arthur sitting next to her. She turned slightly in her stool and offered her hand.

“Yeah, I remember you. You nearly tore Mrs. Ball’s head off verbally for a year in World History.” Arthur said with a smile and accepting her hand. Allie felt her cheeks glow red, of course that would be the thing he remembers about her, it’s not like she did much else (though she would forever be proud of the event in question).

“That would be me. Nice to see you again Arthur.” She said. The door opened again, and Allie barely looked over her shoulder to see the woman in the power suit to match it to the pictures Mark had sent.

“Mark, I thought you were supposed to be off work already?” She said, Julia Moore, soon to be Julia Wilson. Allie tried not to grimace too much at her voice. It reminded her of something out of a bad rom com.

“Sorry baby, but my switch hasn’t come yet.”

“Yeah it has.” Allie said. Mark looked to her and she felt Arthur’s gaze on her as well. “Bro, get out from behind the bar and go hang out with your fiancée.” She stated. Mark reluctantly came out from behind the bar, and when the siblings passed each other, they did their secret sibling handshake that Mark had made her make with him when they were 10 and 9 respectively. Allie then proceeded to tie up her hair that wasn’t shaved into a messy bun on the top of her head. Julia looked at the woman now behind the bar.

“Did I hear you address him as “bro”?” She asked. Mark slapped his forehead.

“Julia, this is Allie, she’s my baby sister. Allie, this is Julia in person.” He said. Allie reached her hand across the bar and offered it to her soon to be sister in law. Julia shook it.

“Thank you for doing this for Mark.” She said.

“Hey, it’s my family bar too.” Allie said. Arthur looked at the two of them, trying to make heads or tails of the whole situation. “See you guys at rehearsal yeah?” She said. Mark laughed and waved to her as the two left the bar. Allie promptly got to work, learning everyone’s orders and what round everyone was on. She returned to in front of Arthur who was looking at her with slight confusion. “What?” Allie asked.

“Did he say, “in person”?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah, Julia’s schedule is hectic as hell and I don’t exactly live around here, so they never got around to visiting me before they got engaged. So, I only know about her through photos, text descriptions, and as a voice in the background of FaceTime calls.” She said, listing things off on her fingers. Arthur’s eyebrow raised and he took a swig of his beer.

“And based off of that, what do you think of her?” He asked. Allie furrowed her brow and took care of some customers before returning to the question.

“She’s… alright. I don’t know anything about her other than she works for an ad firm but has enough seniority to work from home, and she wants to be there for whatever kids they have. I don’t like her voice. But other than that, she seems, fine. I find it odd that my brother is marrying outside this town. I figured if he was gonna get married, he would marry someone from here.” Allie said.

“You have a favorite ex?” He asked. Allie laughed.

“Oh yeah, Janet. They dated from sophomore year to the end of the summer senior year. I was convinced for the longest time that she was gonna be on the other end of the aisle walk. Plus! She was the only one of his girlfriends who bothered getting to know me.” Allie said.

“I remember them. I remember when someone told me they had broken up they finished the statement “so clearly love is dead now.”” He said with a hearty chuckle. Allie smiled, that didn’t surprise her. She remembered being teary about it. Especially since she and Janet didn’t stay in contact as much as she would have. “There was a rumor at one point you weren’t gonna come to the wedding.” Arthur said. Allie cleaned some glasses and rolled her eyes.

“God, a girl is bad at RSVPing and suddenly her brother starts town gossip.” Allie said. “I didn’t even consider for a second not coming to my brother’s wedding. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I am very bad at time management and spaced RSVPing until literally 11:56 before the day change where I pinged my brother and said “yes I’m coming. No, I don’t have a plus one.”” She stated. Arthur chuckled and took note of her saying she didn’t have a plus one. “I assume you’re going,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m one of his groomsmen.” He said. Allie raised her eyebrow as she tried to imagine Arthur in a suit. She saw a lot of sad fabric trying to hold it together and at least one button bailing before it was too late. She shook the thought out of her head and took care of some more customers. She poured Arthur another beer and then leaned against the back counter. She watched as he did, surveying the bar and feeling a bit at home. A man in a business suit came in as well as an older woman who was trying to look younger than she was. They came up to the bar but didn’t sit down. Allie furrowed her brow and looked at Arthur, mouthing a “do you know these people?” Arthur shook his head and Allie wandered over to where they were, putting on her best customer service voice.

“Hi, welcome. Can I get something started for you?” She asked.

“Yes hi, are you Allie Wilson?” The older woman asked. Allie furrowed her brow and looked at the couple suspiciously.

“Who’s asking?” She asked.

“I am Mary Moore, I’m Julia’s mother.” She said. Allie allowed her form to ease now that she knew she wasn’t in any immediate danger.

“Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Moore, what can I do for you?” Allie asked with a little less of her customer service voice.

“We wished to talk to you about the wedding.” She said. Allie went back to being confused.

“What do you mean? I know nothing about the wedding.”

“We noticed that you RSVPed without a plus one,”

“Yeah, I don’t really… date.” Allie said. She picked up a glass to clean so she was still being productive.

“Well you are the only one without one, I’m going to ask you to find one.” She stated in a matter of fact tone. Allie’s eyes went wide.

“Excuse me?”

“We look forward to meeting the lucky man.” She said as she and presumably her husband left the bar. Allie had the sudden urge to tear out her own hair. Or strangle someone. She turned to Arthur.

“Did you know about this?” She asked.

“Yeah, Mark mentioned something about it. Julia’s family’s big on balance or something so everyone was asked to bring an opposite gender plus one.” He said. Allie rolled her eyes.

“And he didn’t feel the need to tell me?”

“You RSVPed so late, I don’t think it was high on his priority list. Plus, you’re his sister, I have a feeling that he knew that this would be your reaction.” Arthur defended her brother. She groaned and dropped her head to the bar briefly.

“How the hell am I gonna find a date in two days?” She asked.

“I don’t wanna be too forward,” Arthur started to say.

“If you’re about to propose faking as each other’s plus ones you better have a damn good pitch.” Allie said. Arthur laughed.

“I’m just saying, we kill two birds with one stone,”

“She said everyone had a plus one,”

“Yeah well my plus one is more of “proof of me having one” than an actual plus one.”

“So, you don’t have one, but told them you did?” Allie asked.

“Yeah exactly.” Arthur said. Allie laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Alright Curry, count me in. On one condition:”

“Shoot,”

“We have to let Mark in on it,”

“Fine by me.”

After the bombshell was dropped on them, the rest of the night was quiet and peaceful. Allie closed up shop and Arthur left to go settle some last-minute things. Allie locked up with the key her father made her carry on her at all times and then she proceeded to call Mark. One ring, two rings…

“Hello?” Mark said his tone a little groggy.

“When were you going to tell me about the whole “Everyone must have a plus one?”” Allie demanded. Mark groaned but chuckled a little.

“Mary told you? I wasn’t gonna force it on you baby sister. But apparently Mary is instant the whole wedding will have “bad omens” if the guest list isn’t perfectly balanced.”

“You do realize you are spewing horseshit right now, right?” She asked. Mark laughed on the other end of the line.

“Yeah I know, but Mary’s paying for the whole thing and keeps throwing tantrums every six minutes about tiny details.” He said. “So, who are you gonna call in on such short notice?”

“Arthur.”

“Curry?”

“No, Arthur Dayne, of course Arthur Curry!” Allie snapped.

“He already RSVPed with a plus one,”

“Apparently his was fake so he agreed to take me in a sort of “fake dating” scenario.”

“Think you can pull it off?”

“Oh yeah, it’s not like it’s something I’ve been mentally practicing since I was sixteen or anything.” Allie remarked. She groaned, oh this was gonna kill her. “You so owe me for this brother.” She added.

“Made a note of it baby sister. Get some sleep.” He said. Allie hung up and sighed. She then got into her car and drove back to where she was staying for the weekend.

Two days passed and the wedding was upon them. Allie had shown up in the dress she was forced to wear by the dress code, another proof against “bad omens”, and she found herself stressing out a little. Her brother was getting married. There was something jarring about that. They were only a year apart and were so close before real life got in the way that when he had told her he was going to propose she didn’t believe him. Her brother? The guy who went through three shirts in the morning and couldn’t put his phone on shuffle ever? That guy was getting permanently attached to someone for better or for worse? The concept seemed entirely foreign to her. She was starting to wonder if she was going to have to find her seat (the other thing about this new age wedding, assigned seats) on her own, when Arthur jogged in through the front door. He wore a suit, which was so drastically different from his t-shirt in jeans that Allie felt the urge to brace against something, but still had little hints it was still him. From his hair in a bun, the jade around his neck, and the absurd amounts of rings on his fingers, he was still Arthur Curry. Just in a suit for the day.

“Hey sorry, the groomsmen needed to meet before the wedding.” He said. He pulled her into a hug and suddenly Allie felt like she was sixteen again. “Go with it,” he whispered in her ear. He then pressed a kiss to her temple and for the rest of the conversation, had her pulled into his side.

“Right, I’m gonna go get in my assigned seat because that isn’t bonkers or anything.” Allie said. Arthur chuckled and gave her a squeeze.

“You do that, the real challenge will be the reception.” He said.

“Oh yeah,” Allie muttered. Arthur released her and went back to where the groomsmen were. Allie’s side still felt like the pressure and heat were there. This man was going to ruin her, she could tell.

The ceremony was nice enough. A bit too “new age” and about 20 minutes too long. But by the end of it, in the eyes of the State of Maine, her brother was married. The multiple parties got into their cars and drove to the restaurant they were hosting the reception at. Allie thought about how she had only been a handful of times when she was younger and usually with Mark or their father. It felt odd coming here with so many strangers. It was in this moment Allie realized that her moving away had really isolated her, both from her brother and her hometown. She wasn’t the lead singer in a pop punk band, she didn’t hate the place. But it just seemed small compared to whatever she was going to do with her life. So, she watched the merry making of the wedding. Her brother seemed genuinely happy and for that she couldn’t be happier. Arthur came over to her side and wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side.

“I’m happy for him. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” Allie stated.

“I wouldn’t imagine anyone saying that,” Arthur said.

“Mary’s glaring at us like that’s what she wants to say.” Allie remarked. Arthur chuckled and stepped into her line of sight.

“Then don’t think about her,” He said. Allie looked up at him and was greeted with a smile that could put bottled sunshine to shame if that was even a thing. “C’mon, let’s dance.” He said. He took her hand and the duo wandered onto the makeshift dance floor that had a handful of other couples there. Arthur held her and Allie tried her best. But the height difference between them was edging on comical. Arthur chuckled softly at this as they swayed to the soft music. Allie seemed completely content in that moment. But something was nagging in the back of her brain, something that she couldn’t stop thinking about.

“Hey Arthur,” she probed. He looked down at her, “why cook up this fake dating plot?” She asked. He lightly chuckled.

“Your brother was right you are oblivious as sin.” He said. Allie furrowed her brow.

“Wait, you’ve been flirting with me?” She asked.

“Did so for four years. Thanks for noticing.” He joked. Allie let her forehead drop to his chest as he laughed a little.

“Don’t worry, it was an enlightening experience.” He said.

“Why didn’t you just ask me out you idiot?” She asked.

“At the time? Lack of confidence and fear. Now, distance and my side hustle.” He said. Allie rolled her eyes.

“For your reference. I would have and still would say yes.” She stated.

“Then Allie, wanna go out some time?” He asked.

Allie popped up on her tiptoes and pecked his cheek. “Sure, count me in fish dude.”

[pho---to---graph]

Henry Fox Talbot – The Haystack

Posted on July 7, 2015 by Steve Middlehurst In April 1844 William Henry Fox Talbot set up a camera loaded with light sensitive paper and photographed (i) a haystack on his country estate at Lacock Abbey in Wiltshire. The haystack had presumably been constructed in the summer of 1843 but as we have no clue to its original size we cannot tell if it has been used to feed livestock all winter or only recently opened. A ladder leans against the stack, blocks are obviously being cut starting from the top down and we can see that the hay knife has been left high in the stack to the left of the ladder (ii). We can see how the stack has been designed with an undercut to minimise rising damp and painstakingly thatched to protect the valuable crop from the rain. Another thatched roof can be seen behind the stack but this looks more likely to be a barn. I partly chose this image because I lived in rural Italy for a number of years and stacks not dissimilar to this still exist in the mountains of Abruzzo, I found an ancient hay knife in the outbuildings of the house we lived in. This, of course provides a punctum (1) in this photograph that is quite personal to me.

Overall the composition has a strong geometry with the bright ladder and its dark shadow  providing contrast to the mid-tones of the hay. The Haystack is a study of light, tone and texture with the shadows of the ladder, the eaves of the thatch and the undercut all playing important roles in defining the significant and detailed forms in the scene. The dark leaves overhead provide a contrasting backdrop to the stack.

Such a stack would have been common place in rural England in the 1840s, unremarkable, probably identical to many other stacks in the Lacock area if not on the estate itself. This leads me to wonder why Fox Talbot photographed this particular stack, what did he want to communicate to his audience and who did he perceive that audience to be? Because this is a well know photograph, one of a series that Fox Talbot published in The Pencil of Nature in 1844 (2) (iii), it has been analysed, considered, critiqued and interpreted for over 175 years.

In fact it was whilst quite casually turning the pages of Ian Jeffrey’s How to Read a Photograph (3) that I paused to read his interpretation of The Haystack and began to think about the variety of ways in which we can read this calotype and how those readings have probably changed over time. It is interesting to consider such an old image in this way because, whilst we feel compelled to label it, there were no strongly established photographic genres in 1844 and no history of this type of image to speak of so Fox-Talbot only saw his work in the context of his drawing, his scientific research (iv) and as a commercial opportunity. He did refer to his calotypes as Art saying in his introduction to The Pencil of Nature that the book is a “first attempt to exhibit an Art of so great a singularity”  and refers to the process as “Photogenic Drawing” (v) but I cannot shake off the feeling that the practical process or the commercial potential was more interesting to him than the end result.

Fox Talbot, like many educated men of his time, maintained regular correspondence with contacts all over Europe and from the letters held in the De Montford University archive (5) it is possible to find many references to his photographic work but the ones I found (vii) were predominantly practical, or scientific in nature; and perhaps not surprisingly he was very interested in arguing the advantages of his Calotype process over the Daguerreotype. The discussions he was engaged in rarely touched upon the aesthetics of his or other photographer’s work and one letter from Fox Talbot to William Jerdan, the Editor of the Literary Gazette (vi), is particularly revealing; he wrote “The Complexity of the Art requires a division of labour; one person should invent new processes while another puts in execution those already ascertained, but hitherto I have been the chief operator myself in the different branches of the invention.”

We do know that Pencil of Nature is as much a catalogue as a photo book. Fox talbot selected subjects that showed the potential uses of photography; a photograph of his china collection is accompanied by a text explaining how this would help recover them if they were stolen, the leaf of a plant is contact printed as a botanical specimen, and the haystack is included to show how well photography could record “a multitude of minute details which add to the truth and reality of the representation, but which no artist would take the trouble to copy faithfully from nature.” He also places some photographs into the context of schools of painting, his famous Open Door is referenced to the “Dutch school of art”. All of which supports Gerry Badger’s description of the book as “an advertisement, a calling card, an experiment, a history, an aesthetic achievement and a manifesto” (6).

REPORT THIS ADPRIVACY SETTINGS

Ian Jeffrey looking at The Haystack with a post modern eye suggests that the ladder has been placed here to provide human scale, “it serves as an attribute, making practical sense of the haystack”. He goes on to say that the sparse composition leaves the audience focusing on the items that are there so the ladder becomes suggestive of Jacob’s ladder which reached from earth to heaven. All valid points from a highly respected critic; I don’t see the ladder as being “placed” by the photographer, it is logical to me that it has been left here from the last time they cut into the hay which also explains why the hay knife has been left so high on the stack. I didn’t find the ladder suggestive of anything other than a practical way of accessing the hay.

When Fox Talbot photographed The Haystack, his intent appears to have been to show how his new process could capture the infinite detail in a large and recognisable object. He created a pleasing composition and may or may not have had one of his farm labourers bring a ladder and hay knife into the scene to add human scale or human interest. His message was primarily concerned with the functionality of the Calotype; his audience was probably a mixture of the scientific establishment, the British artists he hoped would “assist the enterprise” and the middle-class buyers who, not being able to afford a Constable, might buy a Fox Talbot instead.

Jeffrey sees the photograph as an example of the conceptual game “in which one step forward delivers things and words and one step back discloses the scene itself in all its natural complexity” (3). One the one hand I see it as a romantic view of rural life that has personal links to my life and on the other hand as a photograph taken by someone more interested in process and technology than the picture, rather like those internet conversations about pixels that appear to reduce photography to a technological arms-race. But, my interpretation is no more right than Jeffrey’s nor has this eminent art historian and critic has in any way missed the point, far from it.

The haystack is a prefect example of the practical application of Roland Barthes concept of “The Death of the Author” (7) and the idea of “Creative Attention” as proposed by Ainslie Ellis and Jonathan Bayer (8). (These ideas have been discussed in previous essays – see note viii below)

The post modernist view which is strongly based on Barthes’ essay The Death of the Author argues that whilst “the sway of the author remains powerful” the viewer is the primary controller of Art’s meaning. Barthes argues that reducing the influence of the author “utterly transforms” a piece of art and The Haystack is a perfect example of this process. Its power as a photograph is built upon a complex combination of its original context including the history of Fox Talbot and his competition with Daguerre, the mysteries and ambiguities that exist inside the frame and its aesthetic appeal but this is only relevant as a springboard for the ideas the viewer creates by engaging in a dialogue with the image. Harking back to Bayer’s idea, The Haystack releases its meanings slowly and has been doing so for over 175 years.

(I have also looked at this photograph in the context of semiotics here.)

Notes on Text

(i) Fox talbot patented the calotype in 1843. Light sensitive paper was exposed in a camera, developed and fixed to create a negative. A print was made by exposing another sheet of light sensitive paper placed in contact with the negative. (1) I was intrigued to find a letter in the de Montford archive where he uses the term “photograph” as a generic term “Several photographic processes being now known, which are materially different from each other, I consider it to be absolutely necessary to distinguish them by different names, in the same way that we distinguish different styles of painting or engraving. Photographs executed on a silver plate have received, and will no doubt retain, the name of Daguerréotype. The new kind of photographs, which are the subject of this letter, I propose to distinguish by the name of Calotype; a term which, I hope, when the become known, will not be found to have been misapplied.” (

(ii) Since the advent of silage hay is is used far less for animal feeding and when it is used it is bailed and stacked as opposed to just stacked. The art of making a haystack has nearly disappeared in England but in many parts of Southern and Eastern Europe both the stack and the the unique triangular knives that are used to carve out the hay are still common.

(iii) Fox Talbot’s great contribution to the process of photography was the concept of printing multiple copies of the same picture from a single negative. The Pencil of Nature was the first ever photo book and ran to to six separate volumes that in total contained twenty four calotypes.

(iv) By all accounts Fox-Talbot was a brilliant man, as a gentleman scientist he explored many fields and was awarded a honorary Doctors of Laws degree by Edinburgh University not for his contribution to the arts or even his political career (he served in Palmerston’s government when the MP for Chippenham) but for his many contributions to science. In mathematics there is the “Talbot’s Curve”, in physics “Talbot’s Law” and the “Talbot” is a unit of luminous energy; there are two species names after him in the filed of botany and for good measure there is a Talbot crater on the moon. (4)

(v) He also points out that “you just can’t get the staff” saying that the chief difficulty he faces is the “paucity” of “skilful manual assistance”.

(vi) The full text reads: “I intend sending you a Copy of my new work the Pencil of Nature which I expect will be published tomorrow. I have met with difficulties innumerable in this first attempt at Photographic publication, & therefore I hope all imperfections will be candidly allowed for, and excused – I have every reason to hope the work will improve greatly as it proceeds, & that British Talent will come forward and assist the enterprise The Complexity of the Art requires a division of labour; one person should invent new processes while another puts in execution those already ascertained, but hitherto I have been the chief operator myself in the different branches of the invention.” (Document number 5013 in The Correspondence of William Henry Fox Talbot held by the De Montford University (5))

(vii) It is important to recognise that Larry J Schaaf has recorded approximately 10,000 letters to and from Fox Talbot so it would be quite wrong to give the impression that I have done anymore than skimmed the surface of this resource. I concentrated on reading the letters written between early 1843 and late 1844 which covered the period of The Haystack photograph and the publication of The Pencil of Nature.

(viii) The Death of the Author is discussed in two essays about post modernism here and here and the ideas of Ainslie Ellis and Jonathan Bayer are looked at here and here)

Sources

Books

(1) Barthes, Roland. (1980) Camera Lucida. London: Vintage Books

(3) Jeffrey, Ian ( 2008) How to Read a Photograph: Understanding, Interpreting and Enjoying the Great Photographers. London: Thames and Hudson.

(6) Badger, Gerry (2007) The Genius of Photography: How Photography has Changed our Lives. London: Quadrille.

(7) Barthes, Roland (1968) The Death of the Author. (Included within Image, music, Text, translated by Stephen Heath (1977)) London: Fontana Press

(8) Bayer, Jonathan (1977) Reading Photographs: Understanding the Aesthetics of Photography. The Photographers’ Gallery. New York: Pantheon

Internet

(2) Fox Talbot, William Henry (1844) The Pencil of Nature (accessed at PCCA 6.7.15) – http://www.photocriticism.com/members/archivetexts/photohistory/talbot/talbotpencila.html

(4) Schaaf, Larry J. The Correspondence of William Henry Fox Talbot (accessed at the de Montford University Fox Talbot archive 6.7.15) – http://foxtalbot.dmu.ac.uk/talbot/biography.html

(5) Schaaf, Larry J. The Correspondence of William Henry Fox Talbot (accessed at the de Montford University Fox Talbot archive 6.7.15) – http://foxtalbot.dmu.ac.uk

[arkhaminmate]

Long Lost, Gotham FanFiction

Imagine finding out that Alfred is you long lost father

Your POV 

You sat in the GCPD holding cell fidgeting with your ring, trying to keep your mind off what your foster father was going to do to you when he had to come and bail you out. All you wanted was to get the hell out of Gotham and away from your pathetic excuse of a life. Since your mother died 8 years ago you were left in the care of a string of foster homes, each one worse than the last. This morning you had finally had enough so you stole a neighbor’s car and headed for anywhere but Gotham, then one blown stop sign later you were hauled into the GCPD on charges of driving without a license and grand theft auto.

 It had to have been a couple hours since they booked you and left you in this cell and your anxiety had been growing ever since. Then you saw him, your foster father, Hugh, red faced and huffing walking through the station. “how can I help you sir?” asks the officer who arrested you. “I’m here to pick up my low life of a foster kid” he looks around and his eyes meet yours giving you a chance to see the anger welling up behind them. He points his fat finger in your direction  “that’s her, do I have to sign something or can we go?” he demands. “why don’t you have a seat sir and I’ll go over some paperwork with you.” Officer Schultz says as he ushers him to his desk. 

Another hour passes and finally they unlock your cell and you’re led out and handed over to your foster father. Hugh grabs your arm hard and pushes you towards the door and right into an incoming detective. The impact knocks his coffee out of his hand and sends you both to the ground  “I’m so sorry” you say as you pick yourself up. “don’t worry kid, no harm done its cheap coffee anyway” he smiles at you but before you can react you are back in Hugh's vice like grip and feel his open hand smack the back of your head so hard it makes your vision blur. “I swear to god you’re more trouble than you’re worth, Pennyworth. If the city had any other foster families willing to take you I would hand you over in a heartbeat.” “Hey! Calm down buddy, it was an accident” the detective yells but the two of you are already on your way out of the station. 

Jim Gordon's POV 

You kept your eye on the man with the kid as you mopped up the spilled coffee and you noted the license plate of the car you saw him shove her into. Back at your desk you ran the plates and found that the car was owned by one Hugh Crosby, a dock worker who lived out in the narrows. Apparently Mr. And Mrs. Crosby had a business of taking in foster kids no doubt for the money from the city. He had a rap sheet a mile long with multiple arrests for assault and battery, but still the city put children into his care. Most recently a 16 year old named y/f/n Pennyworth. Pennyworth you thought, maybe it’s a coincidence who knows how common a name like Pennyworth is. you tried to put the thought out of your mind and continued with your day, but deep down it nagged at you and finally you picked up the phone and called Alfred, the only other Pennyworth you knew in Gotham. “Wayne Manor” said the British butler on the other end of the phone. “Hey Alfred it’s Jim Gordon” “Hello there detective Gordon how can help you, Bruce is in the other room if you need to speak to him” “no, not this time. It may sound weird but I was actually calling to ask if you knew any other Pennyworths in Gotham?” you asked “I can’t say I do, it’s not such a common name here in the states I’m afraid. May I ask why you are suddenly interested in my surname detective Gordon?” Alfred asks. “it’s nothing really, we had a kid in here earlier named y/f/n Pennyworth and I was just curious if there was any relation” “Well I can’t say there is, what was this rogue Pennyworth doing in the GCPD?” he asks playfully.” “nothing major, joyriding. We turned her back over to her foster father. Look i’m sorry for bugging you Alfred I’ll let you get back to your day” “right then, thanks for the call and please don’t be a stranger, we would love to have you for dinner sometime mate.” The butler replied sincerely. “yeah thanks, I’d like that” you said right before you hung up the phone, but you still had a bad feeling in your gut and you finally grabbed your coat and headed off to the narrows. 

Your POV

You splashed some water on your face and watched it turn red with the blood from your freshly busted lip. Your hands were still shaking and you were having a hard time catching your breath. You knew that a storm was brewing the moment Hugh put you in the car, his silence only increased your fear about the impending beating. And sure enough the moment you stepped into the house you were met with a barrage of punches and kicks. You crumbled to the ground and tried to protect your head and prayed that he would tire himself out. And sure enough a few minutes later he placed one more kick to your ribs and went off to the kitchen to grab a beer. You picked your self off the floor and winced at the pain screaming from you probably broken ribs as you walked up to the tiny broom closet you called home and passed out. 

Jim Gordon's POV 

The drive out to the narrows was uneventful and you pulled into Crosby's driveway and walked up to the front door and knocked. No one answered but you saw Mr. Crosby's car so you knocked again “GCPD, open up!” you yelled through the run down door. You were just about to knock again when finally the door opened and Hugh Crosby stood beer in hand in the doorway “what do you want, I signed all the papers at the station” he slurred, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath from where you were standing. “sir I’m here to see miss Pennyworth” “what do you want with her” he asked defensively “I just need to go over some things regarding her court appearance” you lied. “well she’s grounded and we already know everything about the court appearance so you can run on back to the station officer” he said as he began to close the door. “detective” you said as you stopped the door from closing “and it wasn’t a request, I need to talk to y/n” you walked into the house and asked where her room was. Hugh didn’t respond so you called out her name in hopes of getting her to come to you. A door down the hall opened and the bad feeling in your gut is confirmed as y/n limps out battered and bruised. 

Your POV

 You saw the detective you ran into at the station standing in the doorway you didn’t know what to do. “Did he do this to you?” he asked. You looked at Hugh and saw the anger behind his eyes and you looked down at your feet trying to avoid eye contact with either of them. The detective stepped towards you “hey, y/n it’s okay I’m a detective with the GCPD. You can call me Jim and I’m going to get you out of here.” His words sounded good but you couldn’t help but feel that this was somehow a trick so you stayed where you were. “look she doesn’t want to go with you, so why don’t you get out of my house!” Hugh yelled, making you jump. Detective Gordon pushed Hugh against the wall “I suggest you stay out of my way before you get a taste of your own medicine” he said making the tough guy look on Hugh’s face fade. This was the first time you saw a look of fear on the man’s face and it somehow gave you the strength to walk out the door. You felt a hand on your shoulder that made you jump, but you were reassured by Jim as he led you to his car. “where are we going?” you ask nervously as the car pulls away. “to the hospital to get you checked out” your breathing quickened and your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest. “y/n what’s wrong? It’s okay, just breath, try to take a deep breath” he said as he pulled off the road. “please no hospital” you begged as you tried to get out of the car. Your foster mother worked in the hospital and had a deal with one of the doctors there that he would patch you up when Hugh got a little too rough in exchange for certain sexual favors, you only wished that it was her who had to do the favors instead of you. “okay, okay calm down.....uh....we don’t have to go to the hospital, just please stay in the car” he tried to comfort you but it wasn’t really working. Tears started to stream from your eyes and your body began to shake as you tried to curl into a ball in the seat. “hey y/n it’s okay we won’t go to the hospital, as it happens my girlfriend is a doctor. How about we go to her? Would that be better?” you try to say yes but nothing comes out so you just nod. “okay then” him says as he turns the car around. The further you drive the gentle swaying of the car begins to lull you to sleep and before you know it you are back at the GCPD. “I thought you said we were going to see your girlfriend?” you asked “we are, she works here as the medical examiner” he responds as he turns off the car and gets out. You try to open the door but apparently the child locks are engaged and you’re a bit embarrassed at his lack of trust in you. “Sorry, I didn’t know if you were going to run” he says as he opens your door. You hold your ribs as you stand up and wonder if you could even run if you wanted to. You walk back into the station and Jim leads you down a side hallway to a door labeled: Dr. Leslie Thompkins, Medical Examiner he opens the door and you see a woman with a plastic apron leaning over a dead body searching for something. The sight somewhat surprises you leading to an audible gasp that gets the woman’s attention. “Jim what are you doing here?” she asks “I need a favor Lee, can you give me a second?” “sure” she says as she removes her blood covered gloves and tosses them in a nearby trashcan. “hey kid, could you wait here for a second while I’ll fill her in real quick?” him asks as he ushers you to a bench in the hall “sure” you say as you take a seat. He walks into Dr Thompkins office and closes the door. You’re left to your thoughts and you automatically begin to twist the ring around your finger. It was a rather large gold ring with a seal of some sort engraved into the front. Your mom had given it to you before she died and said that it once belonged to your father, but she refused to answer anymore questions on the subject. The only clue you had were the initials on the inside of the band: A.P. You had the bad habit of twisting the ring whenever you were nervous and the design was beginning to be rubbed away. Just as you began to calm down the Dr's door opened and Jim came to get you. “y/n this is Dr. Lee Thompkins, Lee this is y/n” Lee put out her hand and you tentatively took it and shook “it’s nice to meet you” she said as she grabbed a clipboard and pen “now let’s get you patched up” she said as she clicked the pen. The sound triggered something and you felt a panic attack coming and you tried to leave, but Jim stopped you holding you by the arms which made you freak out even more, causing your breathing to quicken and your vision began to blur. You heard muffled voices and felt a stinging sensation in your arm as you crumpled in Jim’s strong arms. 

Jim Gordon's POV

 You lifted y/n up onto Lee’s examination table and wiped your brow. “that was……..sudden” you say as Lee begins to take y/n vitals. “I’ve seen this before back at Arkham, the patient would hear a sound they associated with a trauma and it would bring back all the emotions from the experience” Lee explained as she wrote some numbers down on her chart, avoiding your eyes. “what is it Lee, what aren’t you telling me?” she sets down the clip board “it’s most likely a response to sexual assault Jim” she says and you look down at y/n's face feeling the anger welling up inside you. Lee grabs your hands “look, we won’t know for sure until I finish my examination. I’ll call you when I’m done, why don’t you get a cup of coffee” she says as she gently kisses your cheek. “thanks for doing this Lee” you say as turn to leave. You notice the ring on y/n's finger and take it off to get a closer look. Though the design is worn you can tell that it is a royal air service seal, you turn your attention to the inside of the band and find the initials A.P. and know you need to make a call. 

“Wayne Manor” “hey Alfred, it’s Jim again. I hope I didn’t wake you” you say as you try to figure out how to say what you need to say. “oh no worries mate how can I help you this evening detective?” “uh…..look can you just come down to the station? We need to talk.” you ask. “I suppose I could, is there something wrong?” he asks with a noticeably concerned tone. “I’ll explain when you get here, thanks Alfred” you add before you hang up the phone. You feel Lee’s hand on your shoulder as she sits down next to you, her face already conveying the news she was about to share. “so, how is she?” you ask “there’s considerable evidence of sexual assault but it appears to be from some time ago making it unlikely to get any DNA. She also has two broken ribs and substantial bruising and scars from what looks to be a belt or some kind of strap” she closes the file and places it on the desk between you. “Jim who is this girl, where did she come from?” she asks “she was brought in on grand theft auto charges after trying to leave Gotham most likely trying to escape her foster family. I saw her leave the station and heard that her last name was Pennyworth” “Wait, as in Alfred Pennyworth?” she interrupted “that’s what I thought, so I called Alfred and asked if he had any family in Gotham or knew anyone with that last name and he said that it wasn’t a common name to have in the states. But something was still bugging me so I went out to the narrows to ask her some questions but ended up finding her beaten and bruised. And then I see her ring” you place the ring on your desk and Lee picks it up “it has the royal air service seal, which Alfred served in. And the initials A.P on the inside” there is a silence between you “so you think y/n is some long lost relative to Alfred?” Lee asks as she places the ring back on the desk. “that’s what’s the evidence points to, Alfred is on his way over here now” “wow”, she says as she leans back in her chair. “well she’s going to be out for at least another hour but I’ll keep an eye on her, do you know how you’re going to tell her? Or Alfred for that matter?” “I’m open to suggestions” you say jokingly but somewhat seriously. She kisses you on the lips before she walks back to her office. You get up to pour yourself a cup of coffee when you see Alfred walk in. “hey Alfred thanks for coming” “well it didn’t seem like I had much of a choice to be honest” the butler says with a hint of annoyance in his voice. “right, well follow me I have something to show you” you say as you lead him to your desk and usher him to the seat opposite you. There is a sound of metal on wood as you slide the ring towards him “do you recognize this ring?” he picks it up and examines the hunk of gold and the color drains from his face. “where’d you get this?” he asks as he runs his finger the faded seal on the ring. “That girl I called you about earlier today, she was wearing it.” You tell him as he sets the ring back down “I gave this ring to a woman I met while on assignment here with the royal air service her name was Sharon and well long story short we ended up falling in love, but when I left for England we lost touch and I figured she had found someone else and moved on, and so did I. Are you meaning to tell me that this girl is…………my daughter?” he asked as he nervously runs his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know anything for sure but we can run a DNA test if you agree, look...there’s something else” “what, more surprises for me mate?” “Alfred, I don’t know how to say this but she appears to be the victim of physical and sexual abuse. probably at the hands of a number of foster parents she’s be in since her mother’s death” “bloody hell” his head fell into his hands “what did Sharon die of?” he asked “drunk driver hit their car and sent them into a culvert, y/n survived but her mom wasn’t as lucky” Alfred let out a heavy sigh as he tried to process everything he had just heard and you stayed silent until he said “well I guess we should have a go at that DNA test and make sure” he stood up but still had the look of shock on his face. “Right, follow me, Lee can take the sample and run it.” You said as you lead him back to the medical examiner’s office but before you opened the door you prepped Alfred “y/n is in there, Lee had to sedate her for the examination but she should be waking up soon” you opened the door and walked in, Alfred fixed his suit jacket and entered the room. 

Alfred's POV

You walked in and saw the girl lying on the examination table, thankfully Lee had made it up to appear more like a bed than an autopsy table. You walked up to her and looked at her face, your heart sank as you saw that she was the spitting image of Sharon. Tears stung your eyes as you reached out and stroked her hair. “she looks just like her” you choked out as you turn back to Jim and Lee. “how long will the test take?” you ask as Lee pulls out a long cotton swab and places it in your mouth. “we should have the results tomorrow” she answers as she places the swab back in its tube and has you sign a release form. “so, what do we do now” you ask, never feeling quite this helpless since the murder of the Waynes. “Until we get the results she will remain in police custody” “so what she stays here in a cell?” you ask “of course not Alfred we'll take her back to our place” Lee says placing her hand on your shoulder. “can I at least stay and introduce myself when she wakes up?” you ask as you look back at her sleeping form on the table. Lee looks at you sadly “she’s had a very long day Alfred, I think it might be better if we do this slowly when she’s rested” “right, makes sense. I’ll just see you guys tomorrow then…….uh should I come here or to your place?” “I’ll call you as soon as I have the results, I promise” and with that you took your leave and headed back to Wayne manor with your head spinning. 

Your POV

 You opened your eyes to find yourself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. You tried to sit up but a sharp pain in your side made you lie back down. “hey take it slow, you have some broken ribs” you looked over and saw Dr Thompkins get up from behind her desk. She pulls out a penlight and shines it in your eyes “what’s your name? Do you know where you are?” you tried to block the light from your eyes as you replied “y/n Pennyworth and I think I’m in the morgue” you replied you went to feel your ring but noticed that it was gone, you shot up ignoring the pain and checked your pockets “whoa whoa what’s wrong” Dr Thompkins asked “my ring, where is it, I had it earlier but now it’s gone” you could feel the tears building in your eyes thinking of the one thing you loved gone forever. “relax I got it right here” Jim said as he entered the room. He placed the ring in your hand and you let out a sigh of relief as you put it back on your finger. “so where’d you get the ring?” Jim asked “my mom gave it to me before she died, it was my father’s but I never knew him. The ring is all I have left of either of them now” you looked at the floor trying to hide your tears. “so what are you going to do with me now?” you asked nervously “your going to stay with us for the night until we can work out a more permanent arrangements” Jim said as he helped Lee pack up her bag. “another foster home?” you ask bleakly. “maybe not, come on lets get out of here” says Jim as he ushers you and Lee out of the office and the station. The ride to their house was short and before you knew it you were falling asleep on their couch. 

Alfred's POV

 You barely slept last night, you couldn’t stop thinking of how you and Sharon brought a life into this world and you had no idea. When morning finally came you made Bruce breakfast but couldn’t help but be distracted by the thoughts of that poor girl growing up without a father or a mother being bounced from foster home to foster home. “are you okay Alfred?” Bruce asks as you place a plate in front of him. “just peachy master Bruce, why do you ask?” you say as you come back into reality. “you seem a little distracted is all” Bruce responds. “my apologies sir” you say when you hear the phone ring. You excuse yourself and try to hurry to the phone without looking too suspicious. “Jim!?” you ask trying not to sound too nervous. “good morning Alfred, we got the results in if your ready to hear them” Jim asks “well get on with it” you say “its a match Alfred she’s your daughter, we’re at the station if you want to head down, y/n still doesn’t know anything and I thought you should be here to tell her. “right, right I’m on my way now” you say as you place the phone back on its hanger “who was that?” Bruce asks making you jump “what have I told you about sneaking up on people” you snap “sorry, I wasn’t trying to be sneaky. Who was that on the phone?” “well master Bruce it turns out....... that I.....I have a daughter” you said, the words sounding foreign to you. “What? How?” Bruce asks. “that’s a very long story I’m afraid and I have to go pick her up at the GCPD” you say as you gather your coat and keys. “you want some company?” Bruce asks as he grabs his coat not waiting for your answer. 

Your POV

 You felt a little better after a good night’s rest but you were still sore when Jim woke you up and took you back to the station. “what now?” you asked “follow me, we have to talk” Jim says as he walks you to an interrogation room. “am I in trouble?” you ask nervously as your heart begins to pound. “no, nothing like that. Have a seat y/n” you sit down and instinctively begin to twist your ring. “that ring” he asks “you say it belonged to your father?” “yeah, at least that’s what my mom said when she gave it to me” you say looking down at the band of gold. “the initials on the inside, do you know what they stand for?” Jim asks “no, she never told me his name. But I assume it’s something Pennyworth” you had long wondered what the A stood for but since your mother was dead you had resolved to never know the answer. There was a knock on the door and a fancy dressed man stepped into the room “Hello detective Gordon” he had a British accent and the grace of a very sophisticated man. “Hello Alfred, I’d like you to meet y/n Pennyworth, y/n I’d like you to meet Alfred Pennyworth” the man stuck out his hand to shake but you were in a state of stunned silence and just stared at it. “I’ll give you two some time to talk” Jim said as he excused himself and Alfred sat down in his seat. “it’s nice to meet you y/n, I don’t know if you know this but I knew your mother back in the day” you still just stared at him “look, I want you to know that things would have been different if I knew she was pregnant” “you’re.......you’re my father?” you interrupted as a tear fell from your eye. “it would seem so” he said “Im……I’m your dad” he added with tears welling in his eyes he stood up and you backed away cautiously “there’s no need to be afraid my dear, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you, but I am now. I promise” he held out his arms and wrapped you in them and for the first time in a long time you felt safe. Find part 2 here: https://arkhaminmate.tumblr.com/post/174710954921/long-lost-part-2-imagine-finding-out-alfred

[shkid]

Condensing posts:

he got a job, i had a panic attack

So last night I ended up going out. We had our last ever university class, and a bunch of us went out for food. I was ready to hit the library, to prep for a meeting with my dissertation advisor today, but a couple of folks were making me feel bad for wanting to leave. So I stayed and had a couple of drinks. I wasn’t feeling great, but was drinking vodka blackcurrant, because I didn't want anything fizzy. Gradually people left, and one friend started trying to manipulate people to stay out. Fair enough, she had gone to a great deal of effort for having a night out, and the people who said they were gonna stay out ended up bailing early. I kinda felt for her, because there’s nothing worse than having to go home when you’ve got a good buzz going on, and no-one else is feeling it. I promised her one last drink. One last drink turned into a few (inevitably), multiple keys, and missing our last trains. We walked home, talking over each other, and smoking. My mouth was so dry and I already knew that the next morning wasn’t going to be good. She left mine just after 2am, and I went to bed. I slept maybe 45 minutes before getting up with such a thirst. I sipped a pint of water, and was trying to force myself to sleep, but of course I was still wired. honestly must have got up to the toilet about 7 times. My stomach was absolute agony. kept falling asleep for 5 minutes at a time, and then waking up needing a drink, or checking my phone etc. I watched the sunrise which was cool. I had drafted out an email to my supervisor at about 6:30am saying that I wouldn't make it in. I was dry heaving, but there was nothing in my stomach to throw up. Felt like shit for a couple more hours and then eventually got about 45minutes from 9:15am-10:00am. I felt like a new woman. So i got my bag packed and headed into town. Getting off the train I started to feel sluggish, and anxious. I bought a sports drink to try replenish electrolytes but was moving as if I was wading through gravy. Stepped foot in my faculty’s building and my heart was racing. My fitbit said my heart rate was >120. I was sweating, dizzy and nauseas so went to the bathroom. splashed some cold water on my face and rubbed up my cheeks. I looked transparent, and needed to get some colour in my cheeks. I walked with gravy legs to my advisor’s office and she greeted me by saying “how are you?”. I just said “I’m so sorry, I can't do this. I’m not well. can we reschedule?”. I think she was pissed. she said “how long have you been feeling ill? you should have just emailed me to cancel. You look very peaky, I think you need to go home to bed. Maybe go to your doctor”.

I sat outside in the rain and watched my heart rate come down, and my breathing regulate. I emailed her to say I was feeling better and that I think it’s just anxiety. The only other experience I have of that feeling, was the one time I had a panic attack in school (and that was 4 or 5 years ago now)! I reckon it maybe was a panic attack, but probably my baseline anxiety wasn’t helped by the coke comedown, hangover, and dehydration. i’m kinda mortified. She emailed me back and suggested that with her “year tutor hat on” she wanted me to seek support from counselling or my GP for strategies to help. I came home and have just dozed all day. My high-achieving brother on the other hand, got a permanent teaching contract at the school he’s been doing his probationary work at. I’m delighted for him, but feel like it highlights the complete worthlessness I feel about myself. lol.

shkid

what’s the harm in talking about self-harm?

Today I talked to a friend in great depth about my past with self-harm. I’ve only known her for four years(!) Took me long enough. In my 8+ (omg) years, I’ve barely mentioned it to my nearest and dearest. I still have close friends and family who have absolutely. no. idea.

This is a good sign. I’m writing a paper about NSSI and discovering so much about myself, as well as the kids I’m advocating for! Learning to break down the stigma in my own head. We NEED to start talking about NSSI, even if it’s difficult. It needs to become less of a taboo. Too many kids are suffering in silence! If I could speak to my 16 year old self, I’d tell her to believe the people who say that it’ll get better. Learning to forgive myself, and trying to practise self-compassion.

shkid

Sack her, employ a new one

So today was only the second time I met with a student counsellor and it was fantastic. Well actually it was very difficult throughout the actual session but I left feeling so much better. I really struggled to talk today, but I think I've maybe identified what my issue is. I've always known that I'm a bit hard on myself and whilst this can serve a purpose, I think it's become somewhat debilitating. I've always been "a bit depressed" and it's likely because I am literally my own worst enemy. Or at least, my worst enemy lives inside my head as my self critic. I was able at one point throughout the session to be mindful of this and correct something that I said; "I'm no good at talking". Sylvia helped me acknowledge that I couldn't be so bad at it because I had seeked out help and had gone to the session despite knowing I was going to find it difficult. I said to Sylvia "I wish I could just sack her, and employ a new one!" My self-critic is very good at what she does. But I wish she could tone it down a bit. Since the session I've caught myself saying demoralising things to myself, that I would never say to anyone else! A quick google, and the self critic describes me perfectly - often engages in self destructive behaviours! That's me. Whether consciously or subconsciously I've always been one to put myself in destructive situations. Questioning intimate relationships and worthiness of these. Me. To a tee. Sylvia asked me to think of what ugly thing's inside of me that stops me from being able to be kind to myself. The first word that came into my head was "worthless" and no matter how I tried to think of something else, it hung about there. Eventually I said it out loud. And I started to well up as the word came out my mouth. Sylvia was aghast and said she felt sad inside. So did I. I always THINK that I'm worthless, it's just I never acknowledge properly how wrong that thought is!! Thoughts are not facts. When it's just in my head I allow it to be true. That I'm not worth loving. That I'm not worth friendships, a career, a life. But out loud that's ridiculous - Sylvia had me explore things that I could be proud of and take ownership for. I struggled to think of any examples to start with, but have managed to come up with a couple since.

shkid

i’m so irritable

every little thing is bothering me. Today I slept in, which was the first thing that pissed me off today. Fitting that I woke up already hating myself and with reason to. That’s a new record.

had to skip any sort of human routine, and rush to get a train to a class I didn't even want to go to. sat in the class and my group had literally done nothing for the group task. I suggested what we could write for each question, and when it came to the presenting back to the class bit, my friend, (although today feels like a ‘friend’) looked over at me and then to the back of the class where another friend was sitting and raised her eyebrows to give a knowing look of “oh look, C____ isn't going to present today, like every other week” (or maybe I’m just paranoid), so i fucking did present. as a massive fuck you to her and all the others in my group. then once I was done, I kinda juts looked down at my book and started welling up because I was so upset and angry at how my friend had acted with me all morning.

after class, I walked to the library with said friend, and she was all “oh sorry I’m going for lunch with ____, I mean, you can come if you want?” which I took to be an invite to decline her invite. so i went to the library for all of 23 minutes before leaving because I was upset and couldn't focus.

Come home, and think about trying to make a start on some assignment work, but my fucking flatmate (who I really dislike at the best of times), had moved my laptop and work sheets from the dining room table, and spread out her own work. this is annoying for a few reasons. 1) she whinged about wanting a desk in her room for so long that I gave her my desk from my room - so she has a bloody desk in her room and I don't. 2) I spend nearly all my time in my own room, but today was a day where I actually wanted to be able to used the dining room table to try and start on some work. 3) It’s the only fucking table in the flat that I can work at, unless I invited myself to use my old one in her room?!?!

So frustrated. So unmotivated. Still sad. Still lonely.

(but having a check-in with a counsellor tomorrow which is much needed and hopefully will be a good opportunity for me to be able to talk to someone rather than vent to a fucking blog that no-one reads anyway)

shkid

I was having a bad day, and then it started raining

And when I say raining, I mean a torrential hail pellets driving into your face downpour. And my jacket isn't waterproof, and my jeans were clean on this morning but are now soaked. I'm getting really pissed off. I have so much uni work to do and yet can't mentally focus to do it. I was sat in class today, completely not focused. No drive at all. I am REPULSED by my body and yet won't do anything about it. I have no motivation to exercise and find it hard enough to do some simple body weight exercises in my room. I use food as an emotional crutch but then feel even worse after I binge, than I did before. It's a constant Catch 22. I want to cry but my body doesn't allow it. I well up and feel emotional, and yet I can't produce enough tears to actually cry. I don't want to be around people and conversation requires so much effort and I get so irritated at irrational things, and yet I get so down about being lonely. More than anything, I want to self injure but I can't. I can't ruin my chances of being able to swim soon, or upset my boyfriend when he sees my thighs next. I've already "accidentally" burnt my arm on the oven too many times. It's so fucking difficult.

[prorevenge]

Dispute over an alarm clock ends a career.

A recent petty revenge story made me remember this experience from my teenage years, but this one definitely went all the way to pro. Strap in, it's going to be long. tl;dr at end.

So, just before my senior year in high school I turned 18 and bought a car with my saved up years of babysitting money. I'd have liked one sooner, but my mother absolutely refused. At 18 in my big act of teenage rebellion, I went out and bought one.

A couple months later, Auntie Asshole suddenly left her job from several states away and moved in with us. Without her car. It cost less if she waited six months until spring to get it shipped. Something about snowbird travel patterns. She was cheap and a user as well as an asshole.

As I result I was expected to share my recently acquired car with Auntie Asshole until hers arrived. This seemed deeply unfair, but nonetheless it was agreed upon that she could use it for appointments and job interviews since I could take the school bus. I needed to be warned in advance because my bus stop was the second one of the route. It left a lot earlier than I needed to if driving direct, and I liked sleep.

You may be wondering about now what this has to do with an alarm clock. Auntie Asshole is one of those people who likes to rile people up, then mock them for getting pissed off. She's always got a complaint, harsh word, and is feuding with somebody over something. Once she moved in with us, her complaint was my alarm clock. My room shared a wall with hers. The alarm was waking her mooching, unemployed, broke ass up every morning, and that pissed her off. Couldn't I just go to bed earlier so I didn't need an alarm clock?

The morning schedule at our house went something in the ballpark of this:

5:30 AM my workaholic mother leaves for the office.

5:45 AM my alarm goes off if taking the bus to school

6:15 AM my alarm goes off if driving to school

6:15 I leave if taking the bus to school

6:45 I leave if driving to school

Half past never: Auntie asshole's unemployed toushie needs to be anywhere

Auntie Asshole approached my workaholic mother about the horrific inconvenience of my using an alarm clock. Her solution was that my mother should wake me up every day at 5:30 before leaving. My mother told her to try earplugs or work it out between us. Workaholic Mother was massively non-confrontational and wanted no part of an Auntie Asshole dispute.

Auntie Asshole started sneaking into my room to unplug the clock after I fell asleep. I'm a hard sleeper, so she pulled this off a few times. I had a good number of tardies before I figured out it wasn't the new cat who initially got blamed. Woke up to see her standing over my bed one night. CREEPY! I screamed like a banshee waking the whole house. She claimed sleepwalking, and my mother let her get away with that lame excuse.

I endeavored to solve the problem myself with some superglue. Not the brightest move I made. That house got sold with a bonus electric blue alarm clock, and Auntie Asshole started turning the alarm off instead of unplugging it. So I started sleeping with my alarm clock tucked behind my pillow. No way Auntie Asshole could do anything to it without waking me now.

She was PISSED at having not gotten her way, and never let anything go ever. Auntie Asshole's next move was to get up when the alarm went off and race into the only bathroom with a shower. It was closer to her room than mine, so she always beat me there. She'd stash magazines in there to sit on the commode reading until right around 6:20. This is after the school bus has left, but still before I need to leave driving direct. Once I was taking a very rushed shower, she'd steal my keys and take my car ... wherever the hell the unemployed go to drive around all day.

She claimed that I just wasn't paying attention when she said she needed the car. She wasn't telling me. When my mother wasn't around, she made snide remarks that if she was woken up she had just as much right to the bathroom as I did. I could solve this problem by not waking her up. In addition to this she would take my car evenings and weekends always right before I had babysitting gigs. It never returned with more than fumes in the gas tank. She had to call roadside assistance twice for running out of gas because she'd guessed wrong on how far she could get on fumes.

Needless to say I was pissed. Also massively inconvenienced, and a lot poorer. I had beg friends for last minute rides or take a cab. She continued to blame me, and my mother stayed out of it. We got into a cat and mouse game with my keys where I eventually kept them on me at all times - even in the shower (this was an old car some years back; no electronic keys were harmed). The keys came in the shower with me because the counter wasn't enough to stop her from pulling the bathroom lock (pocket door; trivial) and coming in while I was showering to take them. Again, CREEPY! This eventually resulted in her asking in advance to borrow my car for a "job interview" that probably wasn't. She went to the key shop and got my car keys copied.

The next day, my keys safely back in my possession, she pulls the shower stunt again. She did it a lot even when she wouldn't take my car. Auntie Asshole was an asshole. I head out to the driveway keys in hand, and my car's not there. Legit thought she'd hot-wired it until I got home and it showed no signs of tampering. I'm not much for poking the bear, but it was time to have this out. Auntie Asshole quite smugly admitted to copying the key, called me a selfish bitch who didn't know how to share, and many other unfortunate things I don't remember exactly. She wasn't giving it back. What was I going to do?

I warned her that car was mine and she did not have permission to use it ever again. This was a bridge too far for me. There would be consequences. She laughed in my face.

The next morning my car was not in the driveway. I'd expected this. My best friend's dad was a cop. I was practically a fixture in his house for a decade, and he was the closest thing I had to a father figure due to my own deadbeat dad. So I gave him a call utterly distraught that the car I've worked so hard to get has been stolen from my driveway. He's very sympathetic. Did I mention my car had LoJack? It was actually a very nice car ... back when it was new anyway. We do all the reporting and whatever it takes for the cops to find it with LoJack.

By mid-afternoon they'd found it in the parking lot of an outlet mall. I don't know what the full details of the encounter were as I've heard multiple versions of this part of the story over the years. She had some kind of bitch tizzy on them upon being accused of theft including a tussle with an officer. It ended in charges of grand theft auto, resisting arrest, assaulting an officer, and some kind of license-related thing because she'd never switched it to her new state of residence. Don't throw a bitch tizzy at a cop. They don't like it much.

As this all took some time, she didn't get arraigned that day. As her unemployed broke ass had horrid credit and little money, she couldn't make bail. As I deleted her answering machine message begging my mother to come bail her out, my workaholic mother didn't even notice she was gone for almost a week. Once workaholic mommy did notice, I explained that my car had been stolen and I called the cops. I was handling the situation myself like she suggested. The look of dawning horror was amazing, then she shrugged and went back to avoiding all confrontation. Auntie Asshole served two weeks in county lockup until she took a plea deal. I suspect they slow walked her paperwork a bit.

What happened after was glorious revenge. Auntie Asshole's remaining savings were used up on all the fines and court fees, so she finally got around to shipping her car and engaging in a job hunt. One problem, she was previously a teacher. She'd yet to get her certification in her new state. Now she had a rap sheet and was unable to pass the background check. Whoops! Time for a new career as a telemarketer.

Auntie Asshole didn't bother me much after that. I learned years later she only went after kids hard, and I had proved enough of an adult she realized there were consequences for her actions. We spent the next few months ignoring each other before I headed to college.

And that's how a dispute over an alarm clock ended Auntie Asshole's teaching career.

tl;dr: Asshole aunt moves in and can't handle an alarm clock going off in the morning. Escalates dispute to the point of regularly taking my car without permission and making me miss school. I call cop friend to report missing car. It has lojack. She's dumb enough to get into a tussle with a cop when caught. Goes to jail for a bit. Can no longer pass background check, thus loses teaching career.

(source) (story by sunnykl)