#she had often commented on how idyllic their marriage seemed

[softquietsteadylove]

can you write some Thenamesh fluff? like, the two of them sleeping in front of a fireplace, snuggled up

Gilgamesh tossed another log into the fire as the door opened and shut, the air from it flickering the flames into a little dance. He leaned back on his elbows. "Hey."

"Hey," Thena smiled as she walked over to him, dropping the cloak and heavy robe behind her as she did. She shuddered once rid of the fine dressings of a royal war advisor, but that allowed her to hurriedly burrow under the blankets Gil had spread out for them.

"How's she doing?" Gil asked as Thena settled herself into his side. He asked it casually, the way he would ask about Sprite or Makkari or Sersi.

But they were referring to Olga, the current queen regent of Kievan-Rus, and freshly widowed due to Drevlian attack. The regent took the killing of her husband - cruel and undeniably torturous - personally.

She had asked her revered and unearthly war advisor how she should proceed. Ajak and Sersi had both moved to set the slander aside--for peace. And while being an advisor didn't mean Thena could incite grand wars between humans, she had answered honestly.

"What would you do?" Olga had looked up at Thena from her throne. "If it was your husband?"

Thena had thought about Gilgamesh in an instant, imagining his smiles, his hands holding hers, the warmth of him as he banished the unrelenting cold from bothering her.

"I would burn the world to the ground and then reshape the ashes in their likeness so they could beg my forgiveness from beyond the grave."

"Thena," Gil raised his brows, although for whatever he was feeling about the declaration, he did not look surprised about it.

"She may do with that advice what she desires," Thena mumbled, the warmth of Gilgamesh already soothing her like a cat in a sunbeam.

"Ajak is gonna be mad," Gil teased quietly as he leaned forward and reached into the fire with his bare hand to adjust the position of a log. He wiped the ashes off on the rug before pulling Thena into his lap.

"She already is," Thena sighed, although she did not care if their Prime thought she was being too violent in her suggestions. Olga had asked her - human woman to Warrior Eternal - and Thena had given her honest answer. She tightened her arms around Gil's neck.

He rubbed her back. She wasn't saying as much, but the thought of what she would have to do without him always tended to shake her. They were Eternals--it wasn't something they had to consider often. But they were also Fighters, and it was technically possible for them to perish. And that never seemed to bother the Warrior Eternal until they were on the subject of him.

"I can't imagine what she's feeling," Thena finally confessed in a whisper, the crackling of the fire underscoring her words. "If I had to worry about you dying from an attack by a handful of humans-"

Gil let her burrow into him deeper, her face pressed to his neck, her hands clinging to him. He was happy to let her, bending one of his legs and letting it cushion the curve of her back. He tucked the blanket over his shoulders more around her, even at the cost of having his other arm exposed to the open air. "So, we're going to war, huh?"

"I doubt they'll need us," Thena sighed, unwinding slowly. She pressed a hand to his chest. "Olga has...other methods in mind."

"I don't wanna know," Gil snorted as he adjusted them again. He laid himself lengthwise, parallel to the fire. He rested on his back with Thena stretched out on top of him. His hand raised to push her hair behind her ear. "I'm sure I'll be horrified at what she's about to do."

Thena pursed her lips, "I think they'll be somewhat deserving of whatever she is about to enact."

Gilgamesh chuckled, raising his head just to touch the tip of his nose to hers. "You menace."

Thena purred as she melted into him, under the blankets, close to the fire, listening to the beat of his heart and the rise of his lungs under her. "Olga was rather creative with her plan, actually. She needs no assistance from me."

"That's a little scary," Gil snorted. He gave her waist a squeeze. "You're beautiful when you're violent."

Thena laughed, all of her teeth showing.

Gil rolled them to the side, letting Thena's back be closest to the fire. He didn't need the extra warmth; he pulled her closer to him, burying his nose in her hair. "My Solnyshkuh has started another war, hm?"

Thena inhaled against his chest, running her hand up his flank and over his pectoral. "I do not start wars, I finish them."

"Well," Gil let out a loud sigh, the comfort of their position also lulling him into rest. "Whatever you ladies have planned, you know I'm around if you need me."

"Hm," Thena pressed her smile into his shirt, "yes, my ever helpful husband."

It wasn't the first time they had been taken for a married pair, and it would be far from the last. It wasn't as if it was out of the question for them.

Gil twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. "We should really get around to that."

"I suppose so."

"Olga could marry us."

"She's busy, Gil."

"After, I mean."

[xbreathehopex]

10 Ways to Save Your Marriage From Divorce

When you think you may be on the brink of divorce, you may still have a glimmer of hope that you can save your marriage. You want to stay together. And by putting in the effort, you can do it. Find out more help by Amy Waterman

As soon as you feel that first flicker of unhappiness, start proactively changing your tune (well, as soon as you finish this article). “The sooner people start working on their marriage when they’re unhappy, the easier it can be [to get past your problems],” says therapist Maru Torres-Gregory, JD, PhD, LMFT, a teaching and supervising faculty member for the Marriage & Family Therapy Program at the Family Institute at Northwestern University.

Okay, but let's be real: You’ve been stewing in these feelings for quite some time. And you're not alone. “People don’t know how to stay in love. Life tends to get in the way, especially when you have children. The relationship stops being a priority,” says Bonnie Eaker Weil, PhD, a couples therapist in New York City and author of Makeup, Don’t Break Up: Finding and Keeping Love for Singles and Couples. "But most marriages can be saved."

Every couple’s situation and circumstances are different. So, too, are the reasons they drifted apart, ranging from a lack of communication to cheating. Still, there are certain exercises you can do as a couple and individual, plus small steps you can take with your partner now to increase love, trust, and intimacy in the hopes of keeping you together. Here are 10 places to start:

1. Map it out.

Individually and as a couple, Torres-Gregory suggests writing down the following: how you started as a couple, what attracted you to your partner, where you are now, how you got here, and where you want to go.

“You won’t be able to have the marriage you had in the beginning, but you can work on having a new marriage. Think of it as marriage 2.0,” she says. To do that, though, you first have to know what that would look like.

2. Turn inward.

Thanks, romantic comedies, for giving us idyllic expectations for love. “You need to be fulfilled individually, rather than expecting your partner to fulfill everything,” says Torres-Gregory. Your partner does not have to “complete” you—and shouldn’t. (Hopefully, you've learned this before you said your vows, but alas...)

“You should be complete so that you don’t burden your partner or the relationship with the responsibility of making you happy,” she says. Take a deep dive into yourself: Why do you rely on your partner for this? Was it because that’s what was modeled in your parent’s relationship? Are you buying what popular media tells you?

By asking yourself these questions, you might be able to suss out what work you need to do to be a happier version of yourself, not just a happier wife. (The one begets the other, btw.)

3. Stop assuming.

Your partner asks a question: “Are the bowls clean?” and you lay into them—why are they always saying that you don’t do your part to care for the house? Can’t they see you’re swamped with life and work, too? “When couples have been together for a long time, they think they know each other. They begin to assume the other’s thinking and motivations and get angry and reactive to these assumptions,” says Torres-Gregory.

Here's the thing: The anger may be entirely coming from an argument that you’re having in your head—not the reality of the situation. Commit to stopping these assumptions, and if you think there’s a certain motivation behind a question or comment, at least ask. That'll help you get on a path to better communication, which can help turn an unhappy marriage around.

4. Set rules for the relationship.

Mutual respect and trust are necessary for a happy marriage, and if those two things have been lost, you’ll need to find them again. “Couples get into ways of interacting with each other and they don’t question it. They keep doing it,” says Torres-Gregory.

To minimize snapping and destructive comments, draw up some rules of the relationship when it comes to communication. “When you love and respect your partner, there are things you shouldn’t do or say,” she says. For instance, when you fight in the future, promise not to swear at each other or resort to name-calling. Again, the more constructive communication you can have, the better your chances of working through underlying issues.

5. Make a weekly date.

You two need to play together—ya know, like the old days. Go out once or twice a week for a date where you don’t discuss problems (or kids, if you have them). “Go back to the basics. What did you do before you were married that you’re not doing now? What did you do when you first fell in love?” says Bonnie Eaker Weil, PhD, a couples therapist in New York City and author of Make Up, Don’t Break Up: Finding and Keeping Love for Singles and Couples.

If the answer is playing mini-golf, bowl, or meet at a trendy bar for trendy drinks, well then, you’ve got your next date planned already.

6. Touch often.

I'm not even talking about sex here. “Hold hands when you’re walking down the street. Give each other a 20-second hug. Kiss each other hello. Dance cheek-to-cheek. Look into each other’s eyes for 30 seconds before you go to bed,” suggests Eaker Weil.

These simple exercises help deliver a rush of pleasure and bonding hormones (like oxytocin) to bring back the intimacy that you may be lacking now, she explains.

7. Show appreciation.

“I want you to have an affair with your partner,” says Eaker Weil. Say what now? Yep, Eaker Weil says that one of the best ways to save your marriage is to treat them like you can't get enough of them. (Even if, tbh, right now you can.)

That starts with expressing gratitude and appreciation of the other person: Gush over their new haircut, text them that you can’t wait to see them later—all the things that people tend to say to each other when they’re in the throes of romance. Sometimes you have to fake it till you make it, but starting a flame does build a fire.

8. Fight fair.

Real talk: You’re not going to just wave your hand like a wand to make sometimes years-deep pent-up resentment disappear. But that's okay.

In this exercise from Eaker Weil, your task is to make an "appointment" with your partner that’s limited in duration. (Tuesday from 7:30 to 8, for instance.) During this time, you fight fairly. You’ll start by telling them why you’re angry or what grudge you’re holding onto. Finish by asking them for a change. For example: “I feel like you never make time for me. All of your free time is dedicated to playing golf/going out with the guys/holing up in your home office. I want you to make time for me every week, even if it’s for 10 minutes.”

Your partner then follows up with something they’re resentful about; you just have to promise you’re not going to get angry, hurt, or reactive as they express themselves to you. To help make that happen, she recommends imagining that you’re holding their anger in a container as they speak (so that it's something you observe, not attack).

9. Envision the future.

Some of the main ingredients in a loving and healthy marriage are shared values, dreams, and life goals, says Torres-Gregory. Sit down and talk about your vision of a future together and how you’ll support each other, she says—it's an important and ongoing topic long after you've walked down the aisle or even had children.

If that seems impossible to see now and you can’t or don’t want to have that conversation, consider couples counseling. “A professional can help you start building that trust and goodwill again so that these conversations can happen more organically at home,” she says.

10. Try a Hail Mary.

Let's say you want to save your marriage, but your partner doesn’t. (Sorry.) Eaker Weil suggests taking a planned, structured break. “This isn’t coming from a place of being nasty. It’s saying, ‘I want to save our marriage, but I see you don’t feel the same way. Let’s take some time apart,'” she says. This could be for just one night, but four to six weeks is the usual amount of time that gives the partner “a kick in the ass,” says Eaker Weil.

“It’s not a punishment. It’s a wake-up.” No calling, no texting, and no sex for the entire time—the point is to make your partner miss you.

And if they don't? Well, counseling is always a good idea—as is re-evaluating whether your life partner is living up to their vows. The hard truth is that some marriages aren't meant to be saved–but that's up to you to decide when you're ready.

[diaboliique]

Here they were once again, only under very different circumstances. This was the wedding they were supposed to have, with family and friends surrounding them, with no worries about going into labor or feeling uncomfortable in a wedding gown, lavish and so very much them. Of course, life always had a funny way of making things happen not quite the way you want it to, and now here they were, almost 5 months into their marriage, finally having the formal ceremony and reception. The legals were done in Indianapolis City Hall with only Lux for a witness, but Coryn and Max knew that they’d never hear the end of it if they didn’t have a ‘formal religious’ ceremony, especially from his mother. It took a month or two of hurried planning and some, frankly, overpriced invoices from florists and caterers, but they’d managed to pull off something that spoke to who they both were, while making the extended families happy… or at least Coryn hoped.

She’d managed to learn a little bit about Jewish wedding ceremonies in her time reading up on the faith during the early stages of her pregnancy; having chosen to raise Chloé in the faith opened her eyes to so many things she hadn’t ever considered, but she did find a few bits of tradition that spoke to her, and she’d be ok with letting them happen, but made it abundantly clear to her very-liberal yet very-Catholic grandmother that, no, it’s not just a Jewish wedding. There’d be a brief mention of some vaguely Pagan traditions (she’d given up protesting a while ago that she didn’t identify as Pagan, no one really listened to her anyhow, and there was no way she was having a Catholic wedding since the only non-lapsed Catholic in the family was her Nina.) It was a good mix of their lives, their stories, and the household they now had.

What made it all easier was the ceremony being held at their home in Long Island. The massive chunk of land they lived on, conveniently near the shore, was an idyllic setting for a party the night of the summer solstice, and Coryn had basically begged people to come stay before because of all it tended to get rather echoing and lonely when Max would be away. Now, it echoed less with loneliness and instead, the rather boisterous chatter of family, friends, and coworkers as they made their way to their seats, the ceremony almost ready to begin.

For the second time, Max wasn’t nervous. He was more amused than anything, watching his cousins, friends, colleagues completely shocked with how well he was taking everything. Jokes about how this was his second marriage floated around and he laughed along before giving them a pointed look when they joked about there possibly being a third. No, this was it. She was it. Nothing could pull him away from her.

His closest...friend, more of a father than anything, Ethan was just as calm as him. Although Max was the first to get married, Ethan was the first to go through this entire actual wedding day. And every so often Max found himself looking to the older man for some indication that he was doing things right. It was more of a calming reassurance than anything.

Even though they were in the same building, he knew his mother and the rest of Coryn’s party would throw a riot if he tried to make his way over to where she was to see Chloé. He settled on agreeing to a Facetime call, pulling away from the rest of his group to talk to his daughter. Although he knew that Coryn was the one for him before Chlo came along, she was the force that pulled them together sooner.  He didn’t keep her long, just enough to get in a few words that she only made noises in response to. After the call, he was more than ready to meet his wife at the altar.

Coryn and Max’s mothers made a scene of getting Coryn out of the way, while Chloé babbled away at the phone screen that was displaying Max’s face, despite her protesting that ‘obviously he’s seen me, we’re already married!!’ It was of no use though, and after being hurried away, a few final details (a family heirloom pearl necklace, some last few flowers braided into her hair, small little tokens of protection tucked into her bouquet) were completed before it was time. Finally, everyone had gotten themselves seated, and the ceremony could begin.

Brushing at the sleeves of her gown, she waited for the cue from one of the event planners she’d hired before making her way down the aisle. It felt like something from a movie, the sight of family and friends crowded together, an aisle covered with fabric and flower petals, and at the end, an ornately decorated chuppah covered in boldly colored flowers… with her husband standing beneath it. No nerves were in her body, instead it felt like the butterflies on her dress were in her stomach, fluttering about, making her want nothing more than to laugh at it all.

They’d chosen the Summer Solstice ‘because it seems witchy,’ as Max had put it, and here now, at nightfall, with the sun setting over the waves, the twinkling of fairy lights in the distance of the trees in their yard, it really did seem magical. It landing on a Friday night, a day not only deemed a day of love in most witchcraft traditions, but also the start of the Shabbos in Judaism… it just all worked out. That was how their life had always seemed to be… just falling into place, everything at the right time, even when it seemed like it was almost impossible circumstances.

Coryn was broken from her thoughts at the happy gurgling of Chloé from where her mother sat with her, and as she stood at the altar, handing her bouquet to Dinah, she waved at her daughter, who was much more preoccupied trying to gnaw off one of the nubs on her teething toy.

She was some sort of dream demon. That had to be it. There was no other way Max could explain the magic that she seemed to put on him whenever he laid eyes on her. But especially not in that moment. Everything, from the flowers on her dress to the matching ones in her hair, made him smile. Of course, it was perfect for her. A perfect compliment to her timeless beauty.

So there he stood, smiling like a big dumb idiot as she walked towards him. For the rest of his life he would deny it, but it was obvious that he brought the back of his hand up to wipe at his eyes in a flash. (Ethan definitely got it on camera.)

There was no need to put on a front at that time. No need to hold back the emotions, the love in his eyes, as he stood across from her, his hand reaching forward to brush against hers before lacing their fingers together.

The justice of the peace nodded at them both, before starting off the ceremony.

“We’re gathered here today to celebrate the love and union of Coryn and Maxwell. Although already legally bound in marriage, we are here to celebrate before family and friends, ancestors, spirits, and the Divine, to bind them together in a union that surpasses the laws of man.

“In the culture of the Jewish people, wine… or in this case, grape juice, is the symbol of happiness. Although you are two distinct persons, both respecting the dignity of the other, you have chosen to unite your lives and to seek your happiness together. Your individual joy will be all the greater because it is shared. Your individual fulfillment will be all the stronger because it rests in the fulfillment of the other. Take this goblet and drink as an affirmation of your hope for the future, a future that welcomes your dreams and makes them real.

“Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha-Olam, boreh p’ri ha-gafen. Blessed are You, Eternal One our God, Ruler of the Universe, Creator of the fruit of the vine. Ashray hehatan v’hakalla sheyimtzoo ahava b’nee-soo-een. Happy are the groom and bride who find love in marriage.”

The few chuckles at the correction from wine to grape juice made even Coryn break, knowing that her not drinking was something she was worried about while looking into a traditional wedding ceremony, but after being handed the tiny silver goblet, she took a small sip, the sweetness of it seemingly waking her from the odd trance she’d already found herself in from the ritual of it all.

At first Max had worried that Coryn would feel overwhelmed by the traditions his faith brought, but he was happy to see she took it all in stride. When a droplet of grape juice escaped the corner of her mouth, he brought his hand up to wipe it away with his thumb and momentarily cradle her face in his hand. Then it was his turn and downed the rest of liquid, not wanting to waste a single drop of symbolic happiness.

Next, a multicolored braided cord was held in the justice’s hands, as she continued on.

“Next, in lieu of a ring ceremony, the couple have opted to do a handfasting ceremony. This cord will be tied around their clasped hands, to symbolize their unity.

“Like the element of earth, may you support one another, provide stability when the other finds themselves faltering, and help nurture each other to grow. Like the element of air, may you lift each others spirits, and act with wisdom in all the choices you make. Like the element of fire, may you love passionately, and become a beacon of light when the other finds themselves in the dark. Like the element of water, may your feelings flow freely and deeply, so you are never left wondering. By the earth below, and the stars above, let all that you do be done in perfect trust and perfect love.”

With a gentle squeeze at Max’s hands, Coryn watched as the cords were loosely wrapped around their clasped hands, before being knotted three times. She gave a quick glance over to her cousins who responded with thumbs up, clearly appreciating the nod to their shared love for all things witchy.

Max couldn’t help but throw in a little wink when fire and passion was mentioned, alluding to their instant chemistry. And he had to bite his tongue back when the word “deeply” was thrown out, knowing he would never hear the end of it from anyone if he chose that moment to make a lewd comment. He was lucky she was already in love with him, he thought to himself. Otherwise she had a long road ahead of her.

“And finally… the part everyone knows. The breaking of the glass. There are multiple interpretations of this tradition. Some say it is to recall the destruction of the temple at Jerusalem, a reminder that even in our most joyous occasions, we must remember the painful history of our ancestors that led us to this moment. Some say that it is to act as a reminder that relationships are fragile, that one wrong move can shatter it to pieces, and while it may be recovered, it can never be put back together again the way it was before. Go now into your marriage with this knowledge, and these blessings.”

Someone had been foolish enough to let Max pick what to break and for a good moment he had debated framing a picture of Coryn’s ex or father and going to town on the glass. But someone wise reminded him that the day was about their love, not about any petty arguments. So he opted instead for a glass bottle, filled halfway with black glitter. Biodegradable of course, because he’d never hear the end of it from Coryn or his sisters about polluting the Earth, all for a reference to Cor’s love of all things spooky and beautiful.

At the sound of the glass popping beneath Max’s foot, his entire side of the guests, and even some of Cor’s, shouted Mazel Tov! The justice of the peace could barely get the words out before Cor felt Max grab her, bringing her in for a deep kiss, her body feeling warm, full of magic, and happiness, and love.

( @betterthanyoulosers )

[sirfrogsworth]

Another sterling example of The_Donald subreddit. A forum that reddit admins refuse to shut down.

Part of the typical "American Dream" many conservatives cling to is the classic nuclear family. A mom and a dad. A couple of kids. Maybe even a white picket fence. It's the way things used to be in the "good ol' days." Looking backwards is part of the obsession Trump supporters have and why they are so attracted to the "Again" part of "Make American Great Again."

The classic nuclear family was not always as idyllic as Leave it to Beaver. In the past, many people trapped themselves within these families with no escape. Dad would go to work. Mom would stay home with the kids. But if mom ever needed to get out of an abusive or troubled marriage, it was not always feasible. Some see the high divorce rates as a troubling statistic. But in many cases it is a sign of progress. It is a sign that people are no longer content with lives lacking love.

In the good ol' days many women didn't have great options for supporting themselves, much less their children. Church and society would put pressure on everyone to "work it out." Appearances were more important than happiness. And divorce was an insult to God. “Your husband works so hard, how could one be so ungrateful for the good life he is providing you? Right?”

Trump supporters have this blind nostalgia for simpler times when women had fewer choices. They want to go back to a time where once men put on that ring, they no longer had to try. Just make the money and let the missus do the rest. They are convinced those were happier times. Chances are that many of their parents just put on happy facades and never revealed just how miserable the good ol’ days actually were. 

There are two small problems challenging these Trump acolytes' ideal family worldview. The Trumps and the Obamas. 

First, they must convince themselves their glorious leader is a traditional Christian family man. Which is quite the mental magic trick. Personally, his family is not a big concern of mine. I worry more about his crazed ambitions as president. But conservatives often claim Christian family values are the key to a better America. Which makes Trump a confusing choice in the eyes of most liberals. 

When I look at the photo above I can’t help thinking about how fake this “real family” seems to be.

Trump has three wives. He would have an affair, divorce one wife, and then marry his partner in infidelity. (As long as she was worthy and not a porn star.) Cheat, rinse, repeat. He also has five children spread out between those three wives. If Trump was a liberal person of color, I can't even imagine the depth of the racist comments he would endure. His wealth and white privilege have created this epic shield from conservative criticism. If Obama had this same family dynamic we would not hear the end of it. Especially if his wives were immigrants. 

I do think Trump’s male supporters genuinely admire his parenting style though. Trump readily admits that all of the child rearing is the woman's work. He would brag about never changing a diaper. And he gets praise for being a horrible, absentee father. Thanks to his epic fathering skills I believe his children have grown up to be... interesting individuals. His grown sons both look and act like 80s villains in a movie about shady business dealings. Ivanka has this perfect exterior, both aesthetically and behaviorally. Her words are so carefully chosen and empty that it is nearly impossible to discern who she really is. Poor Tiffany must constantly remind her father that she exists. Barron is a wild card. I really hope he has a chance at some kind of normalcy. Which is a very telling statement. I’ve heard many people express concern for Barron’s future well being. I’ve never heard anyone concerned about Sasha and Malia. And I’m pretty sure that is because everyone knows they’ll probably turn out great. 

And that is why the biggest issue when trying to prop up the Trump family is actually the Obama family. Apparently this is a very important comparison to both Trump and his followers. Instead of being the giant clusterheck that the Trumps are, the Obamas actually fit the ideal nuclear family to a tee. They are a Norman Rockwell painting come to life. What must be even more frustrating is that they don't just appear to be idyllic... in reality they are actually a successful, happy family. They love and support each other. No mistresses or porn stars. No divorce. No scandals. They challenge common stereotypes Trump supporters have about black families. Heck, they're even good Christian folk who actually go to church from time to time.

This must really make these alt-right Trumpnuggets insane. This black fella they hate is a much better family man than their Great Orange Hope. The Obamas are Making America Great and they didn’t even need the “Again.”

Progressives are less concerned with folks fitting into stereotypical nuclear families. We generally prioritize the safety and happiness of everyone involved. If there is an abusive spouse... divorce them. Get away. If the woman is in a better position to bring home the bacon... go get it, girl. If two men or two women can support and love a child that needs a home... well... love is all you need. Adopt that cutie patootie! But we love families like the Obamas too. It wasn't a huge priority when we were choosing a president, but I will say there is some satisfaction knowing how much that stable family dynamic annoys the opposition. And it can be humorous to see them turn their hypocrisy up to 11 when speaking of the beautiful, totally normal Trump clan. 

Soooo... when it came time to compare the Obamas to the Trumps, their only choice was to create a fiction. It would destroy their worldview and probably melt their brains if Obama did something way better than Trump. Clearly, creating a nonsensical conspiracy was the best way to go.

There is a clip of Michelle Obama on The Ellen Show in which her pants fold in such a way that it bares a slight resemblance to a penis. Some claim to even see testicles as well. It’s the Trump supporter version of seeing the Virgin Mary in a grilled cheese sandwich. 

To see this mythical penis you have to freeze frame, squint your eyes, turn your head to the left, run video enhancing algorithms, boost the contrast, sharpen the pixels, wave fairy dust... but once you do all that... it's totally proof positive of a big swingin' dick. It’s so apparent that they need to put bright yellow circles around it.

Welp... I’m convinced. 

Though, perhaps another angle with red arrows would make this damning evidence more substantial. 

I have seen quite a few penises in my day and I can say without a doubt this is the most penisy image I have encountered. It’s almost too clear. I think it would be better if it had more grain and more pixelation. There is no other explanation. I’ve never had the fabric in my crotch area bunch up. It’s just not a thing that happens. 

This was their light bulb moment. The perfect way to destroy the image of this perfect Obama family. Just connect all of the imaginary dots and it is clear what is going on.

First, the forensic video evidence of a penis. Then there are the toned, muscular arms. I mean, women don't do push ups. That's madness! Clearly the only explanation is elevated testosterone. Next, if you look closely, you can almost see an Adam's apple. It's very subtle. As if it isn't really there. But with a little photoshop copy/paste magic, you can totally see it. And the last groundbreaking clue... the name Michelle looks and sounds similar to Michael. 

*GASP* 

Those names have some of the very same letters you guys! This can mean only one thing!

Michelle Michael Obama... is a man, man!

Which means Barack Hussein Obama is actually... gay!

And since a man and a man can't have children... Sasha and Malia were adopted!

Or. OR! ORRR!!! They were kidnapped! (An actual thing some of them believe.)

So... yeah. This was their solution. This was how they made the Obamas the dysfunctional liberal family nightmare and the Trumps the real American Dream. Another mass delusion to secure a shaky worldview. Only a conspiracy of this magnitude could shore up their fragile house of cards.

Some of you might think, "They can't possibly believe that, right?" 

Do not underestimate these MAGA morons. I'm sure there are those that are aware this is a farce. But they are like the Delusion Keepers. A secret society that helps protect the bullshit bubble. That justifies all the hypocrisy. It is their job to disseminate the information and make it believable enough for the average Trump follower. (Which isn't hard.) All they need is to convince enough people of the lie and maintain peak loyalty within the ranks. 

As suggested in The Art of War, “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.” Which means I probably spend way too much time in Trump forums getting to know the enemy. I can’t tell you how many times I have seen this “Michelle is a man” thing thrown around as a casual fact. Never challenged. Never disputed. They all call her Michael without hesitation. 

The saddest part is they believe being transgender is this great insult. They think transgender women are all men in disguise. In actuality, it's an insult to call someone something they are not. It's an insult to say that having a transgender First Lady is some horrible thing. It's an insult to anyone who loves a transgender person and raises a family with them. They can be every bit the American Dream as anyone else. Because in the end...

Love is all you need.

Check out these Real Americans. 

[reginasrandomthoughts]

The Bloody Chamber (short story) rambling analysis

TBH, I am posting it only bc I said I would. But boy, it is long. I am totally sure that I changed tone and style at least twice and that I left out some words here and there (I am not reading through all 8300 words at 2am. or ever) And this wasn’t even a school essay... it was meant to be fun.... *cries in the corner*

Enter at your own risk! Also, this is exactly as it was in my goodreads progress update feed bc I wrote it there, bc... I thought it would be shorter?

Oh, boy, where do I start the ramble fest so I would get some use out of it pre-exam? (yes, this is purely for me, and if a poor soul who is not me by accident reads it, please forgive me for not taking you into consideration) That being the preface, let me start.

First thing first, this is obviously a fairytale reimagining, and of the fairy tale Bluebeard. Love that one and loved how it even name dropped it on

pretty much the last page of the story. That was both a polite and bold move and I respect it. The fact that this text is based on that is very obvious and i would go as far as to say that The Bloody Chamber depends on the reader to know the story of Bluebeard before reading it, as, as the story says "Anticipation is the greater part of pleasure," (p15) and this way we can anticipate what is going to come and we understand the context of the story, where it is different, a bit more. It also gives the story a great deal of liberty as now it can gloss over some portions, such as the girl trying the many keys first, her taking her time exploring the castle and trying to behave and her falling for the other guy. These are elements that can be left out or done with shortly because we already know the story, know what is coming and thus do not need it and leaving them out can make the story shorter and keep the flow intact. I truly think that any longer than this, any more details than this and the story would probably have collapsed a bit. This is not the fairy tale style that you can tell near a fire, it banks on building up tension and anticipation so much that it needed to get to the climax quickly or else the tension would have broken on its own and would have killed the story.

Now, I have cited the flow of the story, and so let us talk about it. But first, let me drop it in: retelling Blue Beard as the erotic horror story that it always had the potential of being is amazing. A+ idea, 10/10 would reread again.

Now as for the technical part of the story, I truly admire how tightly crafted it is, the interconnectedness of it, where there are no truly wasted words as the similar words and expressions come back so often that they can just build up this truly sensuous image. There are words like voluptuous and sinuous and so many words that as a result of them appearing frequently and through the explicit evocation of sexual desire just make you think of sex. It fills it with sexual tension on one side.

But on the other side there are the words and images that hint at a darker nature. The husband is many times connected to animal brutality, and just brutality in general, and in two ways.

On one side there are several times when the imagery of food is evoked in connection with her, she is treated as some kind of delicacy that just might be eaten up, a pound of flesh brought on the market, or as in the end it is revealed, a fine game hunted and trapped.

On the other side the brutality comes from the history of the husband (fuck spelling the rank, but for the record, he is a Marquis). first of all, we he is connected through a gift to Catherine to Medici, a (by reputation, do not know much about her) ruthless woman, who has given the family quite a while ago a ring, made of fine gold and an opal the size of a pigeon’s egg (p9). dunno if has anything to do with it but found some info that says the opal is also connected to seeing a change of colour (which might reference how post marriage she will see his true colours) and in the short story it is explicitly stated that opal is a bringer of bad luck (p9). So we can see that the marriage is doomed from the beginning and through the connection to the brutal queen, the long line of dead women we almost didn't even need the reminder of the Marquis's own line of dead wives who wore and "returned" the ring to him to see how this will end badly.

Another piece of ancestral jewelry that is a gift from him is a choker with rubies in it, it is described as an "extraordinarily precious slit throat". And is explained in the next paragraph to be a remain of the trend by French nobility to wear chokers as a reminder of the mass beheadings (p11) and this is something that she must wear during sex as well, as a matter of fact he especially makes her put it on for it. (p17) Now this is a combined foreshadowing. On one hand, it tells us how he wants to kill her: chop of her head the same way St. Cecilia's was (the portrait of whom, another musician, is put up in her piano room. But on the other hand the choker is a symbol of escaping the blade, which us explicitly pointed out as well.

Another brutal element from the past is his seeming nostalgia that back in the times he could have hang, like a flag, their bloody bed sheets to prove her virginity to everyone. (p19)

on p33 it is also revealed that the castle is called the Castle of Murder by the locals and there are stories about the brutality of its former owners, esp. a story about how one of them literally hunted women in the woods like foxes.

But this bit is revealed very late in the game, after the chamber and everything else. Still even without it he has a very creepy vibe to him. She feels it too, she describes him as oppressive and at a part she likens the place to like a huge cage and notes how the tides will cut her off from the world. Another part to note is the terms in which their "love-making" is described.

Their room is the ancestral room, many have lain in it before, including, most likely, his previous wives. For her specifically, a row of mirrors that multiply her are added and when they have sex it is described from the perspective of someone looking at these mirrors: " a dozen husbands impaled a dozen brides". (p17) 'impaled' is a word that connects both to the erotic and murderous components. (Switching over to phone, will probably have more mistakes bc my phone is a little bitch. ) we also get to see what it is like to have sex with him. "As if he had been fighting with [her]" (p18) he "shrieked" and cursed when he orgasmed, his "deathly [or perhaps deadly] composure" shattered. When he was done he was like a felled oak (p17-18). None of these are peaceful or loving images but they are connected to those.

After they are done we can see phrases such as "my husband, who, with so much love, filled my bedroom..." , "reminiscent of papered flesh" "stroked" "caressed" "with tenderness" and he comforts her with murmuring "[she had] never heard before, a voice like the soft consolation of the sea" (p18). He apologizes for hurting her. But the brutality seeps into it as well: the word "embalming" is potent with what is yet to be revealed in the chamber and so does incense. Beyond that she has bled in the process of love making, afterwards the necklace still bites into her neck and her husband says that he couldn't help hurting her. How odd it is to say that but it will tie into a rather odd theme of the story. After this of course, he has to break the idyllic honeymoon by leaving and he also insults her by both diminishing the honeymoon's importance and by saying that he has bought her with "a handful of colored stones and pelts of dead beasts". This again brings in the element of death and foreshadows the moment he will call her whore.

Another element that enters here is the element of ownership. He is ire she won't run bc he owns her (though such allusions were made previously as well).

Circling back a bit to the sex scene and its violence.

The act is violent and is followed by something more tender yea, but what is even more important is that she believes that it might have given her a glimpse into who he truly is without his masks. This is going to be a motivating desire for her just a bit later, to know who he truly is and the placement of this idea connect his real self to all of the following: pain, violence, sensual pleasure, comfort, death, corruption. Yes corruption. I guess it is time we talk about the lilies. (Or more accurately I ramble on about them). P15: "The lilies I always associate with him; that are white. And stain you". This, next to her innocence what comes up the most. She might have been an innocent but he claims that her white face promises a "debauchery only a connoisseur can detect". This makes her his potential equal, his pair as he (Prev quote from p20) is described in terms as "satyr" (p19) , "lecher" (p15). He is a perverse who collects books with phonographic images in them (p17), has painting of erotic nature ( p20) and poses her into a very pornographic situation and makes comments on her like that on several occasions (p15, p11, p19). She is aware of the nature of these situations at each occasion and she is not immune to them and their effect. She responds to his desire as early on as p11: " for the first time in my innocent and confined life, I sensed in myself a potentiality for corruption". She is also the one who recognizes how pornographic her undressing is on p15, she does want to read a yellow covered book and is enchanted by the pornographic images in his book (p16 and p17) and after they have sex a "queasy craving" awakens in her. She has "dark newborn curiosity" she "longs for him" at the same time she is "disgusted by him" , which can suggest that she is resisting the corruption (p22). Nevertheless she lusts for him and at this point the question of ownership comes in again. She accuses him that he left ther to suffer in her inability to fulfill her newfound desires to "show his mastery" over her (p22). Which brings in the idea of sexual domination.

And I think we arrived to the point where we must enter, or at least approach the bloody chamber.

First of all, let me tell you straight out of the gate that I am not quite sure what the bloody chamber is representation vise. Story vise, it is a trap. Now, where does this enter into the story: they had some good sex, he received the call, announces his upcoming departure, they eat dinner, and then they go to the library (coincidentally, where she found the lewd book).

This means that she already got a taste of what pleasures the flesh can offer (I am really trying to not be vulgar hear), she thought that she got a glimpse of the true him, and she knows that in theory she will be lonely and on her own, as the mistress of the house, for the next 6 weeks. at least (p18).

And into this he drops the bomb of the key chain.

"Then, slowly yet teasingly, as if he were giving a child a great mysterious treat, he took out a bunch of keys from some interior hidey-hole in his jacket" p19.

This is a decent place to start untangling this whole mess (btw, @me: yes, i switched back to desktop, much easier). He is teasing her, trying to arouse her curiosity. It is sort of offered as a reward, perhaps for her doing well previously (yes, I do mean in the bedroom). The keys are mysterious not only bc she doesn't know what they open, but also bc she doesn't know the true reason of why she is getting them. The keys also represent him and his wealth. There are keys to trivial areas like the kitchen but also to the picture gallery with priceless paintings.

And here taking a break from the quote analyses I bring me the disturbing stuff: daddy issues and incest:

So it is not surprising that the Marquis, who collects lewd images tells his young wife about them. But there is one image that stands out even though it is glossed over: "a pair of very special Fragonards, commissioned for a licentious [promiscuous] ancestor, who it was said, had posed for the master's brush himself with his own two daughters...." (p20)

Knowing what kind of paintings he likes, and what kind of titles these invented (yes I tried looking them up, source says invented) paintings have "Sacrificial Victim", "The Foolish Virgins" "Out of the night we come, into the night we go", we can safely assume that those, as well as this specific painting are... explicit. Which means that one of his ancestors had erotically charged paintings made of himself with his daughters. And our present Marquis left them on the wall and is not ashamed to talk about them. As a matter of fact, talking about them triggers him to tell her how her face has a promise of debauchery. He assigns a daughterly role to her AS WELL AS that of a wife. He calls her child" on many an occasion even when he is talking to her RIGHT AFTER they had sex ("My dear one, my little love, my child, did it hurt her") and before that as well "Have the nasty pictures scared Baby?" (p18 and p17). He even talks to her in 3rd person like you would to a young child. Disturbing. Well at least she is canonically seventeen.

He is also much older than she is and she is also a girl who lost her father so she has no male authority figure in her life. I really don't want to spell out what this adds up to, but it certainly adds a whole new dimension to the conclusion.

Now back to the quote. He goes on to explain how much he has a king's ransom worth of fine China from this brand, a queen's ransom's worth of China from the other brand (p20), (yes he keeps those locked up) he has keys to safes that have enough jewelry in them that she can change her necklaces and earrings three times a day and he has share certificates that are worth even more.(p21)

She can have at them all.

He purposefully leaves one key unaccounted for. and she asks if that is the key to his heart (p21) and demands it away from him. He "dangled the key tantalizingly above [her] head, out of the reach of [her] straining fingers" and he answers that it is not a key to his heart but to his "enfer". This word triggered my mostly forgotten French, it means hell.

Be back to that in a moments. Than he goes on to say these: "Every man must have one secret, even if only one, from his wife" "promise me you'll use all the keys on the ring except for that last little one" "make toy boats out of my share certificates, if it pleases you" "promise me, if you love me, to leave it well alone" "there I can go... to savour the rare pleasure of imagining myself wifeless" (p21). With these words he placed the highest possible value on this room, above the worth of the certificates that are worth millions. This is something money cannot buy. But this is also the ultimate, hands off, don't touch me, ever. She caught only a small glimpse of his true self and now she wants all of him, his heart, she wants to know who he is, and he especially set that place up as his own private place where he can be himself. He says that the room is at the end of "a dark little corridor full of horrid cobwebs that would get into your hair and frighten you if you ventured there". She warns her specifically: it is a dark place where the past dwells, and my past would frighten you, because there I go specifically to imagine what it would be like if I had no wife. It is a warning that she cannot understand especially because of her innocence: that is a room where "husband" and "wife" cannot coexist. There is no place in it for the both of them. She shows that she doesn't get the warning by replacing the keyword "wifeless" with "bachelor" later (p26).

This room is a dangerous place, where his most private and sinful desires live but he is trying to contain them. He calls it his hell which means that he suffers from it as well.

The problem is that this "one secret" is his true self, the core of his being that she desires to know. He is willing to offer her all the material wealth and is willing to settle for these odd substitutes for his fantasies (the choker and St. Cecilia instead of the beheading) so long as she can leave him in his solitary existence. Now. This is the text. What is the subtext?

Sexual desire. She caught a glimpse of who he is during sex, as a result she wants to see more of it, she wants to have all of him, pretty much the first thing she misses about him is his touch, the room itself is about his sexual desires... and in the middle of his whole explanation of what he has we get this sentence: "in my innocence, he sensed a rare talent for corruption. Combined with everything that came before it this has to refer to her feelings.

Now is as good as any to have the topic of sexual dominance re-enter into this discussion: it’s a matter of control. By entering into the chamber she is disobeying him, challenging his authority, his dominance and that is why she has to be punished. The story explicitly says via Jean- Yves that " you disobeyed him... that is sufficient reason for him to punish you". But the issue is also more complicated.

So now we are finally at the point where she has the keys. She meets with this new guy. He is blind. He cannot see her beauty that tempted the Marquis. he is shy. In this sexually charged world he is the new innocent one but one that does not seem to feel sexual desire himself. He is the safe option (more on that later).

Now let’s get to where she switches on all the lights. She creates artificial daylight, light that can reveal all the secrets her husband is hiding (btw I forgot to note that the bunch of keys came from a hiding place as well? that is a whole lot of hiding: the keys are hidden, he at first tries to hide the last key by ignoring it, the room is hidden though he reveals it too, later the drawer has a hidden compartment as well. he is hiding himself well, yet he wants to be seen, hence the reveals. )

Once there is light she is not afraid to explore and she goes for the study, after she proved that she is not a greedy mistress who will order everyone around and ask for whatever. Even the jewels she puts away bc "[she] would not find his heart amongst the glittering stones". (p25) she searches his drawers and even notes that he must have a lot to hide if he is doing it so thoroughly. She also finds some papers that hint at criminal activity and she even ponders if the crime alone is his reward. She gets so close to figuring him out, to sensing the danger but she is still impressed by "his zeal for secrecy". (p25) and then the hidden drawer pops up with the single folder marked as personal. "I had the brief notion that his heart... lay in this file. It was a very thin one". (p26) she is still looking for his heart, for him.

Now what does she find in that file? Trophies or keepsakes from the previous wives. (hard to tell the difference in this situation) Love notes to be exact.

The first she pulls is a napkin from the La Couple, a restaurant, on the Boulevard du Montparnasse, which is not in Montmartre, where the Her worked as a barmaid in a café (p10), but close enough. I will take it. The note says " My darling, I cannot wait for the moment when you may make me yours completely". This is important bc it is in part submissive, it is offering full control to him and him alone, but as another poem or work I have read said it "you cannot belong to me fully until even a piece of you belongs to someone else" so having her fully to him would mean severing all of her other ties, which means killing her. She can only be truly his, and his alone until she is alive. This note makes it sound like her murder was to a degree a shared desire, they both wanted to unite in that violent way.

Second note is from the singer and it has the single world Until scrawled across a score of Liebestod from Tristan. Liebestod means "love death" the erotic death of two lovers, the consummation of that love in or after death. Which also means something like "yeah, I totally wanna be in your erotic murder fantasy". or something similar. I am mildly sure that all the other women kinda knew what they were signing up for. The lat one is from the Romanian countess, it is a postcard of a graveyard where a grave is being dug. The note this time around says "On the occasion of this marriage to the descendent of Dracula - always remember, "the supreme and unique pleasure of love is the certainty that one is doing evil." Toutes amitiés, C.”

Blatant. These women have to have known what was going to happen. They all are making references to it. This note even reassures him that in love one has to do evil. Carmilla, the countess calls herself a descendant of Dracula and that is accurate due to intertextuality: she is Romanian, from Transylvania to be precise, just like Dracula. She is a countess, the female pair of the count, which was Dracula's title. Her name is Carmilla as in the novel Carmilla about a female vampire, but one that also came before Dracula, but this Carmilla lives after Dracula. Confusing? Well, I don't know how hard I was intended to think about this, but it feels like there is this monstrous woman (a vampire) who in a way gave life to his male counterpart and received new life (relevancy) through him. I am not saying f-ed up incest, but I am. It's complicated. Kinda like a self-birthing metaphor if I read really hard into it. The point that I am obviously supposed to get though is that she is a vampire, something that was a symbol??/metaphor??/way to discuss sexual repression. And a vampires sexuality is always predatory and connected to violence. Carmilla and the Marquis might just have been two monsters finding each other.

(p26, all of that). Back to our little lady: she does not understand these "grown up games" but she feels like "these were clues to his self that showed me, at least, how much he was loved, even if they did not show a good reason for it". (p26) She doesn't see the reason, bc she does not understand the game, that these people found death to be some kind of dark, erotic pleasure, an ultimate expression of love and ownership.

So since she does not really get it, but only knows that this is a part of her husband she decides to go and find him. To quote (long quote) "Perhaps I half-imagined, then, that I might find his real self in his den, waiting there to see if indeed I had obeyed him; that he had sent a moving figure of himself to New York, the enigmatic, self-sustaining carapace of his public person, while the real man, whose face I had glimpsed in the storm of orgasm, occupied himself with pressing private business in the study at the foot of the west tower, behind the still-room. " (p26) There is it again sex and the true face, and also an issue I have not mentioned and will not discuss yet: doubling.

Anyway, she goes to the chamber. He called it his hell and suitably, it is underground, and the soothing sound of the sea does not reach it.

Before she enters there are some pretty neat similes: "the key slid into the new lock as easily as a hot knife into butter." (p27)

And now I got to one of the fun parts where I can start to throw in a theory: I already mentioned recently, that these women probably knew what they were getting into (further evidence is that the opera singer had a smile on her dead lips). I also already mentioned that the Marquis made this place sound like older than it was: cobwebs and all, like it was a part of his past. Like it is the past (not the present or her future). I also mentioned that he is trying to contain his murderous desires. He was suggesting that when the impulse comes to him he will lock himself away from her, far away from her. And here is another piece: the lock is new. I wonder was it made recently? in preparation for her? It was her innocence that attracted him. Maybe he did not want to devour her, and we will see further support for it a bit later on.

Anyway, we get another soft mention of how her innocence is already tainted (this is important bc she is quickly loosing to his desires (and to her own that were triggered by his, so really to his desires) the quality that attracted him to her, a.k.a. what was keeping her safe.

Also important to note before we enter is that she thinks that she "might find a little of his soul" inside. (p26)

Now after this there is a soft break, a single empty line before we enter and the entrance starts with a quote from the Marquis's favourite poet: "There is a striking resemblance between the act of love and the ministration of torture" (p26). this harkens back to Carmilla's note about the pleasure of love being doing evil. Weird thing is, that she says that she learned something of that sort in their wedding bed as well. Does she mean that the evil was hurting her (painfully taking her virginity) but it came with certain pleasures? Maybe.

Now the room is dark. Electricity does not reach it. Her man-made daylight doesn't reach it so she has to light and relight candles, even the ones around the dead body of the opera singer. So she explores. At first she believes that the torture devices are there for contemplation and that it is a "little museum of his perversity" (p28), which is yet again an explicit link between sex and violence. Then she sees the catafalque.

Now a catafalque, especially one of Renaissance workmanship is something, expensive and precious. It shows care. There is incense burning, there are candles, there are flowers. Care was taken with this place and it especially shows in the fact that he embalmed her. Then she sees the skull of the barmaid turned model. Then she opens the Iron Maiden to find the Countess. (who died only 3 months prior.

Now let's take a look at how these women were killed: The opera singer, the performer was strangled by hand (in my opinion a rather intimate but not too sexual way to kill someone, or at the very least Criminal Minds never told me that if someone strangles someone than it is a replacement for penetration (that is stabbing or so I've been told). She is covered with a thin sheet "such as the princes of Italy used to shroud those whom they had poisoned", which can here mean that he tainted, poisoned her with his desires. She is also given flowers, just like divas are after a good performance. Coincidentally (not) those are the same kind of lilies that her room was full of when she arrived.

The skull is crowned with white roses and has a bridal veil and is hung into the air, hung like it is on an invisible wall, like an art piece, bc the woman whose skull it is was a model. Care was taken again to make it personal, to fit the death to the one receiving it.

This brings us to Carmilla, the vampire. She is in the Iron Maiden, a coffin, like the ones vampires sleep in. When the little lady is looking for her body she notes this: "Then, for some reason - perhaps some change in the atmosphere wrought by my presence - the metal shell of the Iron maiden emitted a ghostly twang; my feverish imagination might have guessed its occupant was trying to clamber out" (p29).

This further builds into the vampire motive by implying that she is undead. But of course she isn't. She has been impaled by the spikes of the Iron Maiden. She is impaled. This is a nice throw back to how she described her lovemaking with the Marquis, and how vampires are impaled (Dracula was) and how many say Dracula's real life inspiration was Vlad the Impaler. And just to keep playing with the vampire theme there is also a lot of blood.

As a matter of fact, there is a truly unreal amount of blood. She drops the key into "her forming pool of blood" (p29) she instantly notes that she looks so newly dead and so full of blood. But how the hell would this happen? I am going on a bit of a tangent here.

HOW THE HELL IS THERE BLOOD!? I understand the needs of the atmosphere and it is bloody brilliant and I will talk about it but first let me get this portion cleared. The Marquis was supposed to have been widowed 3 months ago (p10). Now at this page it also says that it was a boating accident and the body was never found. So either of two things happened: a) he killed her two months ago, stuffed her into the Iron Maiden, which impaled her and she died. Three months. Blood should have coagulated by the time of this incident. I did a quick search and it said that that should happen around 10 hours after death? And I can understand that the pull of gravity pulls the blood down and it flows out through the wounds on her legs (I looked up if it could work) but here is the thing. It should have flown out into the Iron Maiden and dried there.

Another possibility is that she died recently. That he stuffed her into this thing somewhere offscreen after they arrived back. BUT ten hours probably passed between point in time and his departure as well so same thing here (when he leaves there is a "little thin starlight in the courtyard" (p21) and now it is dinner time again bc she dismissed the servants for the night (p25). There is no logical reason why that corpse should or could bleed. Tangent over.

But of course, this ties into the vampire theme and so I will take it.

So, how does our little lady react to this all? With notions like she is "the next in the fated sisterhood of his wives" and she feels "pity for his other victims and also a dreadful anguish to know that [she] too was one of them". She counts herself amongst their ranks, has no illusions about escaping.

Now we have to note here that she dropped the key into the unlikely, undead blood of Carmilla. It is magic blood.

No, I am not even joking. Carmilla's blood is magic, because it shouldn't be flowing by then but also because you cannot get rid of it. When she realizes a bit later that her husband is coming back she tries to wash off the blood "but as if the key itself were hurt, the bloody token stuck"(p33). She can't wash it off.

Then later on when she is forced to retrieve it and show it to him she notes that the blood "had resolved itself into a mark of the shape and brilliance of the heart on a playing card. "(p36). This is the same blood that was not liquid enough to be washed off. But this is also the same magic blood that at the light touch to her forehead "had transferred itself" to it (p36) (the heart shaped mark) and that later on, even when he is already dead can be covered by "no paint nor powder, no matter how thick or white" (p41). The undead Carmilla, her predecessor, her newfound sister have marked her as a sinner, as the next in line to die and join them. With magic blood.

Anyway she goes back upstairs and tries to think of a plan (after she draws our attention to the portrait of St. Cecilia and wonders how she died bc she too already knows that she will share her fate.

She tries to think of a plan, but she thinks the servants might be in cahoots with the Marquis, prevent her escape or just plain old pretend that they don't know what she's talking about is she goes to them for help. She tries the phone, but the line went dead (yet not long ago she managed to get a call to her Mum in Paris during which she cried and this will be important bc of Deus ex Mama).

She still has the hope that her husband might truly have gone to New York, but in a moment of foreshadowing fake-out when she is playing her piano she hears the drop of a stick and thinks it is him in front of her door. It is not. It is the piano tuner brought in just today, just for her, safe and shy Jean-Yves who is very sympathetic to her plight. He also has a creepy crush on her bc of her piano skills. He was eavesdropping in front of the door. He also brought back to her the keys she dropped at her husband’s office, which is a nice gesture of giving her back some semblance of control.

So the theory here, my theory, is that Jean-Yves is an innocent who due to his blindness is impervious to the lady's charm and face that promises debauchery, he hears only her music that is tying her to St. Cecilia. Through his adoration and puppy dog love she gets absolved of her sins and that is why he is later on "her lover (p38 and p39) and why the Marquis thinks they are besotted and why they end up staying together. She on p41 notes that she is happy he cannot see her mark bc it "spares [her] shame". These are literally the ending words of the story yet I cannot make much of them. Spare her from having to be ashamed of being marked by an evil supernatural entity? Her shame of being in a past relationship? Her shame of her own sexual desires? (more on that later)

If Carmilla was a supernatural being then we can interpret Jean-Yves as one as well. He is the good guy, who ties the lady to the heavens through giving her back "her own particular magic" (p31) her piano music, bc he was the one who tuned it to perfection, He also has supernaturally good hearing and he could hear the change of the tides and the coming of her mother from one hell of a distance. He is an "angel". And as such he is chaste, there are no hints of sexual desire tying them together, which can bring this story out to have a very odd message I might not care for much.

It is also odd that while Jean-Yves is there to give her comfort he does not act. He listens to her, warns her of both the good and the bad, accompanies her to the courtyard but he cannot even open the gate on his own. She has to help with that. It's a but like he is not even tangibly, physically there.

But back to the juice part, the Marquis arrives home. He gives her a story of why he is home early that she does not believe. "I had been tricked into my own betrayal to that illimitable darkness whose source I had been compelled to seek in his absence and, now that I had met that shadowed reality of his that comes to life only in the presence of its own atrocities, I must pay the price of my new knowledge". (p34) She likens it to Pandora's box that she was always meant to open. Now remember that back a hella long time ago I said we were going to talk about doubling? We are talking about doubling.

With the little lady we are talking about mirrors. There are two selves: the innocent, naive self that is in the physical world and there is the more sensuous sinner, the version of herself that the Marquis sees, that she always sees only in the mirror. P11: she catches the first glimpse of what he sees when he looks at her in a mirror. The bedroom is full of mirrors (p14) she catches a glimpse of how they look when she is almost completely naked in a mirror (p15), their lovemaking is described from the perspective of someone looking into the mirrors as well (p17) and when she is preparing to meet him for her execution she, combing her hair she is again, looking into the mirror (p37). Now with her, this is interesting bc of two reasons: one she likens her mark to the mark of Cain (p36). The mark of Cain, as far as my vague knowledge of the Bible and 5 seconds of googling tells me, is the result of Cain's murdering of his sibling, Abel.

But who did she kill? I my opinion this is a reference that she merged with her reflection and became that sinful woman. She killed her innocent self, her "mirror sister" if you'd like. This idea is supported by her circumstances as well. The Marquis is the one that gives her the mark, and he is placed in the position of God, even as early as in the chamber: "as if to tell me the eye of God - his eye - was upon me (p29). His voice when he speaks before he gives her the mark sounds like "great cathedral organs that seem, when they are played, to be conversing with God" (p36) and she has to kneel before him. But likening her mark to the mark of Cain is also interesting bc the mark is supposed to protect Cain from a premature death. That protection was given to Cain by God and if this mark follows the analogy, then the Marquis gave her a similar mark that would protect her. This explains a lot: how she could get away with the loitering, how he took her time with the execution with kissing her nape and all that (39), how he froze up just long enough that her mother, who arrived just in time, mind you, could shoot him before he can do her harm. If this is, in its function Cain's mark then it did its job and the Marquis gave it to her, which I will gladly use in my reluctant killer argument.

Also, if the mark she is wearing is a mark of Cain then it makes sense that it does not come off and that she does not wish for the "angelic" Jean-Yves to see it.

Now, let's talk about doubling with the Marquis. With him it is more the personality. His projected and true selves. P18: she catches a glimpse of his true self while he orgasms. (he too gets doubled in the mirrors but it is alongside of her so it is not counted here) p21: with the key to your heart line his heart is separated off of the rest of his being, same happens with the file (p26) and his soul (p27). P26, she physically separates in her mind the public and the private by saying that he sent the public to New York and the private is in the chamber and again on p34 by saying that there is a self of his that comes alive only at certain times, when he encounters other beings like himself. There can be some duality sensed in how he plays both the role of the Devil, the tempter and God, who ultimately saves her. This duality is reflected in his attitude towards killing her as well: he feels both shamed and excited for what is about to happen. He comforts even as he threatens (p36).

So now we arrived to the question:

why did she have to die?

The answer is love. He told her that if she loves him she will leave the chamber alone (p21) but it was exactly because she loved him, that she wanted the true him that she had not obeyed. Alternatively we can make this about carnal lust, but just bc she caught her first glimpse of him during sex there is no need to go there. I think. I won't.

So as previously discussed she was looking for the true him, his heart, his soul, the phantom self that might have been waiting for her in the chamber.

Love was also the reason why the other women died, though as discussed, they might have been more willing participants in this weird love ritual than the little lady, with whom he might have expressed some reluctance.

So to revise my evidence for that so far: fair warning, new lock, talks as if in that is all in the past, mark of Cain, comfort giving.

Now here is a quote from when she returns back: "and it seemed to me he was in despair" "I felt there emanate from him, at that moments, a stench of absolute despair, rank and ghastly". She also observes that it was as if the lilies started to fester and his seductive scent was breaking down (p35), To me it communicates that his uglier nature is coming out in the presence of the sinner who has caught a glimpse of him and is tainted by him, but that his better part is not necessarily happy with the arrangement. "The evidence of that bloody chamber had showed me that I could expect no mercy. Yet, when he raised his head and stared at me with his blind, shuttered eyes as though he did not recognize me, I felt a terrified pity for him, for this man who lived in such strange, secret places that, if I loved him enough to follow him, I should have to die.

The atrocious loneliness if that monster"

He is looking at her with blind eyes not recognizing her, not seeing the temptation that he did from the very beginning. These are the last moments when he is still capable of these feelings because the worse part of him won this round and now that she knows what he truly is, what he truly is like she has to die. It is like he too met his double and him too was burnt up by it. She and him, they both saw the worst parts of each other (the disobedient wife who does not "love her husband enough" to respect his requests and the man that needs to own his lovers so completely only death will do). They are not on par, sure but there is this parallel.

Now I only want to highlight one more thing from here: "My little love, you'll never know how much I hate daylight' (p36). This ties back to how she switched on every lamp, how she flooded everything with light and how the sunlight illuminates the world and reveals the things that are hidden in the dark. He hates that his secret self keeps resurfacing, that room, that self is his hell, but he gets pushed back into it all the time, because once that self comes alive it takes over (as we see how he completely changes by the end, p36: still gives comfort calls her pet names p38: he calls her a wicked woman and a whore).

Now one more thing before we move on (yeah, I lie a lot about moving on from topics): the public self already married the young lady, that the chamber's self sees as St. Cecilia (actually calls her that on p38) but for the chamber's self this is the true wedding, the murder. This is the kind of union all the other women were hinting at and this is what is about to happen here too. He tells her that the castle is going to be empty because he had given the servants "a day's holiday, to celebrate our wedding" (p37). It is a ceremony too, like a wedding. She has to bath and get dressed in special dress for it and meet him at the "altar". When she is reluctant to go down to the courtyard to meet him he calls up to her: "Shall I come up to heaven to fetch you down, Saint Cecilia? You wicked woman, do you wish me to compound my crimes by desecrating the marriage bed?" (p38) She is still in the music room at this point so it is a metaphorical marriage bed, the place where he wants to execute her and he does not want to desecrate it by either moving the execution elsewhere or forcing her into it. She has to come on her own. When she appears with a boy she automatically becomes a "whore" for that same reason. She is cheating on him. This also makes the "why is he kissing her nape from p39 make sense. They are getting married, it is their Liebestod and she even notes that he gets her just as naked as the first time he undressed her (the time before they had sex), but this time around it is by cutting her clothes away.

Of course this wedding is interrupted by the mother crashing in on horseback and shooting the Marquis who is likened to a "man-eating tiger that had ravaged the villages in the hills of north Hanoi" (p40).

Ofc the mother sensing that her child is in danger (bc she never heard her child cry in happiness before and knew that if she is crying something is wrong) came in as a great hero is a kind of on the nose way to communicate that 'mother knows best'. She never really liked the Marquis and was sad about the marriage and now she came to protect her young and naive daughter from the predatory man who wanted to hurt her. It kind of says that it is a mother's job to do that because young girls still cannot recognize a threat like this.

Now before I wrap up the conclusion I want to point out one last thing. She had the castle transformed into a school for the blind so now there are children there (needed to explain to put the quote into context.

"I pray that the children who live there are not haunted by any sad ghosts looking for, crying for, the husband who will never return to the bloody chamber". (p40) Now she either understands that those women loved him and that through death they united with him or she is projecting a bit, so she is missing him. (though she mentions that Jean-Yves is living with them but she talks about him so briefly). Either way it is kind of poetic that now these women, who understood her husband better than she did are the ones who have to look for and cry for him though they had him more than she did when he was alive, though it can be viewed that the Liebestod was complete, but simply the other way around and she had him in his death (if we accept my mark of Cain line of thought. Also, the mark took the shape of a heart, which is the symbol of love, especially romantic love. Just throwing that in as well.

As for the conclusion, the part that we should learn from, let's see.... I kinda hate to say it but it is kind of a tale that warns against not only predatory men, but sexual desire, desiring and being desired as well, and especially against a woman taking charge of her own desires. (to be honest it can be understood as any sort of desires bc material wealth was what lured her in, sexual desire and love made her stay and at the end she gave away most of her inherited wealth and is in a non-sexually charged relationship.) Not really a moral i can get behind, but as a fairy tale it was made for a different time (and yes, I say that even though it is a retelling bc I don't feel like the core changed.).

[vinewoodfamousarchive]

Soo, after a little bit of inner debate with myself, I’ve decided to go ahead and post each chapter of my GTA V fanfic here as well as over on AO3 (Click HERE)

Please be gentle.

Title:  The Ghosts You Draw On My Back

Summary:  Charlotte Weston is a reluctant Vinewood actress, doing minor league roles that her grandfather, Solomon Richards, coerces her into. After one too many tantrums by demanding co-stars, she gets fed up – only to find herself talked off of the ledge by our favorite criminal-turned-producer, Michael De Santa. Will he be able to hold up his promise of being a better man, or will each of them fall victim to the Vinewood Dream?

Chapter 1:  Rough Draft / Story Of A Lonely Man

-----------------------

“Cut!”

The word echoed throughout the production lot for what seemed like the millionth time that day, groans of the various staff members not lingering far behind. It was one of the warmest days in recent Los Santos memory, leaving everyone sweaty, hot, and just plain exhausted – so of course, this would be the day when her co-star, Milton McIlroy, would choose to try and pull privileges from his Vinewood star status.

“Alright everyone, good work for the day. We'll see all of you first thing in the morning, bright and early – and I swear to Christ that if we have to delay filming because you can't act like adults, I'm gonna start docking someone's pay......and it AIN'T gonna be mine!”

Charlotte found herself rolling her eyes at the director's words. The guy was one of the skeesiest directors left in Los Santos, but her grandfather, the old school man that he was, swore his loyalty to the director and had hired him on to every job in the last ten years. It certainly didn't hurt that this project was already on it's last leg before it even got off of the ground; Directors weren't exactly tripping over each other, clamoring for a chance to claim this latest film.

“Sweetpea, why don't you come on over here for a minute?”, the director beckoned, leaving Charlotte wishing that a piece of the set would somehow collapse directly on top of him, crushing him and finally freeing the entire movie cast from dealing with his tyrannical methods any longer. 'It'd honestly be doing the entirety of the world a favor', she mused, chuckling under her breath.

“Look”, he began as soon as she was within earshot. “I get that you're Solomon's grandkid and that your Daddy is the one bankrolling this entire lot – congratu-fuck-lations. That won't earn you any favors on my set.”

Popping her jaw from side to side, Charlotte struggled to maintain her temper. Letting her temper run free, no matter how warranted, would not be the kind of public image she wanted to carry for the rest of her career – although, if she had her way, this wouldn't be her career at all. Her mother's mantra (“play nice, Charlie girl. You'll catch more flies with honey than with vinegar") echoed through her head, forcing a stiff smile to appear on her face.

“You don't have to worry about me, Mr. Kent. I'll try and do better, I promise.”

The director's responding grin and muttered 'good girl' had her stomach turning, wondering if taking on this role was worth all of the stress and digusting comments.

-----------------------

“Don't forget that I have a tennis lesson tonight, so I won't be home for dinner!”

“Oh, don't you worry! How in the hell could I even dare to forget about your left hand potentially going weak if you weren't constantly jerkin' your instructor off with it??”, Michael shouted back in Amanda's general direction, knowing well that she wasn't listening to a sentence that didn't include the offer of money or a new Prada handbag.

Things in the De Santa household had been less than idyllic since their therapist's latest attempt to get the couple to 'work things out'. Amanda pulled it together for a few weeks, long enough for Tracey to go off to college (where Michael could only assume she was getting herself into some kind of trouble that would require his credit card to save her) – but as soon as that front door slammed shut behind her, the snide comments and rude remarks started right back up again. Sighing to himself over the never-ending drama, he moved the phone back up to his ear, waiting for the shocked man on the other end of the line to begin speaking again.

“Yo, is that your wife again? I gotta be honest with you, man, I don't know what you see in her.”, Franklin spoke incredulously, well aware of the fact that he was toeing a line when discussing his friend's wife and her less-than-appropriate behavior. This was his friend and he wanted to be there for Michael; It's just that his distaste for the less-than-ideal home life was hard to contain after awhile.

In the recesses of his mind, Michael was well aware of the fact that, as her husband, he should stand up for Amanda, should defend her honor and dignity. After over ten years of the same bullshit, though, he just wasn't sure he had the fight left in him anymore. It wasn't as if it was a lie – Amanda changed sexual partners almost as often as most people changed their underwear, barely even bothering to hide it from plain sight anymore. The sexy stripper that he had convinced himself that he loved nearly 20 years ago had been replaced over time with a shrewd, harping, money-grubbing shell of a person who cared more about what others thought of her than what she thought of herself. The kids were the only things that had held the marriage together for so long, and now, even that was beginning to crumble.

“I don't know, man. Do yourself a favor, F – avoid getting married until you've already lost your will to live.”

[parisandeden]

That now semi-familiar feeling of a smile traced Eden’s lips as Paris caught onto her joke and felt the fresh press of his lips against her for the first time that day. “Not exactly my best work, but, if you stick around I’m sure you’ll get to see the full act being played on others.” She felt a sense of relief that at least he seemed to have sense of humor about these sort of things, especially after she’d managed to swipe his wallet twice already without so much as bit of concern. She turned to him, slightly bewildered by his comment of making him breakfast, “That would require a skill that I’ve never had and really haven’t intended on learning. Unless you count pouring cereal out of a box and into a bowl with milk in it, now that I can do.”

 Eden could tell from Paris’s voice that home life was certainly not idyllic, she too knew the strain of being in a family where you didn’t feel like you were wanted, nor did you ever feel like you’d belonged. She was thankful for what little she had in the little studio where they were, it wasn’t much, but she couldn’t imagine where her life would be without it. So even if it had come at the expense of a hateful handout from her adoptive father she would still have a roof over her head. It was when Paris mentioned breakfast again that somehow her stomach must have been in tune with his thoughts, for it growled, quite loudly, causing her cheeks to flush slightly as she emitted a small, apologetic laugh. “Breakfast sounds … amazing,” she said before pushing herself off the floor, although not with much ease, as every muscle seemed to ache now, “let me just change into something … well decent.”

 She hadn’t intended to take long, slipping on a fresh pair of jeans, a simple tank top in a light shade of lavender and long sleeve white jacket. As she pulled her hair up into that same sloppy updo from the day before she felt somehow more put together, perhaps it was that little spring in her step from a night with a guy who seemed to understand her. Whatever it was she wanted to hold onto it for as long as she could, it was unfamiliar, and exciting, neither of which she’d ever known. When she was finished she grabbed a small little leather purse, flinging it over her shoulder before she spoke, “I know a place within walking distance we can go, that I’m not banned from yet. They have the best breakfast and their bacon ….” Eden paused just as her stomach growled again and she opened the door to her apartment, just before grabbing his hand and slipping of that ring she’d put on it earlier, “Well it’s the best, and I can’t promise I’ll share.” _________________  From: Paris Date: 01-13-2014 0:20:57 Paris didnt know what to say or do, he had no memory of the two of them even mentioning the word marriage. As she looked distraught on how the fact he forgot this he looked down and played with the ring. "I-I don't...." His eyes snapped back to hers when she started laughing. He couldn't help but feel relieved that this was all a joke. "You. You had me nervous for a second. Well played, well played." Paris smirked and kissed her again before getting up. His back hurt as he tried stretching out his sore muscles. The torn up skin still seemed sensitive even though it's been a few months since it happened. "What? No breakfast?" His eyebrow arched as he stared back at her. "If you wanted to play this gag on longer, a husband is entitled to a breakfast from his wife. Especially after what night we had." He shrugged and sat down on her couch.  "Well, as you may have noticed I live with my parents still. It's not ideal, it's required by Perry I do. The moment I turned 18 the court decided it's best I just stay with them." Paris rolled his eyes as he hated life at home "just for six months.....then I'm out of here. I'm moving away from my past." He mainly spoke to himself, thinking on how life has drastically changed within one year. His sister hates him, father barely says much, his mom still gets onto him on any sort of racial or sexist remarks he makes. His brother on the other hand, worships him like a god. Or did atleast, after he quit he was forced to as well. " since I didn't get said breakfast, lets just get some shall we?" Paris got up, wanting to get his mind away from the troubles at home.

Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: ǝsɐɔ ʇǝʞsɐq Date: 12-22-2013 2:33:38

Eden laid back down on the hard floor next to him, there wasn't a likely chance she'd fall back asleep now, especially as the sun rose and bit by bit the little apartment was flooded with light. It didn't take long, maybe twenty minutes or so for her to hear Paris' morning greeting, and she turned to him, a small smile forming across her lips just as he answered his phone. She could tell his mother was mad, but from the look on his face, Paris didn't seem to care, and she really wondered what sort of trouble he would be in for even staying with her for the night, she was certainly glad he had. Her quirks didn't seem to terrify or put him off like they had been known to with other guys so when she heard him nervously laugh when he noticed the ring she tried not to crack up with laughter. "That would make two of us," she said, Somehow the idea of them getting hitched in a late night escapade after everything else that had happened seemed like it would just be the icing on the cake.

 She smiled, almost blushing as he mentioned her strength, "All it takes is a little time at the Y, kind of got into boxing a few years back when my parent...." And then she stopped and corrected herself, "Isaac and Grace asked me to move out. A girl on her own can never be to careful, you know." She laughed a little at his mention of stalking her, "Trust me, I won't tell Officer Perry if you don't, something tells me she wouldn't think too much of two 'delinquents' spending time together. Who knows what sort of trouble we might get into." And as he sat her on his lap, asking her how she managed to get him to agree to something like marriage she looked at him stone faced, letting herself fall into the act she'd wanted to play so badly since she'd slipped the ring onto his finger.

 "You honestly don't remember...? You looked so happy and ... I thought." She looked up at him through her lashes, throwing up those doe eyes she'd used so often as a distraction to shoplift in the past. "You said...and we were on the beach," if anything pulling a full guilt trip on him would be enough, "If you don't want to though...I understand...it did seem a little too good to be ..." but her last word was cut off by a small laugh, she couldn't even help it now, bursting into laughter. "Okay, okay, we didn't get married, I just wanted to see how you'd react to it all, certainly would have been interesting to ask if now that we were married if I could meet your mom."

Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: Paris Date: 12-22-2013 0:52:56

Just as the day went by the night quickly followed. Paris felt the aches all on his shoulders and back. His eyes fluttered open as they adjusted to the sunshine. "Mmm good morning..." He mumbled as he let go of her hand and rubbed his eyes. Before either of them could say anything his phone had gone off once again:  Paris -knowing he was in for it- : Good morning, mom!  Mama Dounas -obviously pissed- : where in the hell are you?! We've been calling all night!  Paris -wincing as his mom yelled-: didn't you tell me I should be out more?  Mama D: With my knowledge yes! You're on probation Paris!  Paris -groaning as his eyes glanced over to Eden, making him smile- : ok, well im fine.... I'll come home later.  Mama D: Get your ass home now!  Paris -smirking some before he glanced down at his free hand, seeing a ring he never saw before- : uhh.... I'll call you later. Love you.  -phone click-  Paris' eyes focused on the silver band that fit perfectly on his ring finger. Astonished he glanced over at hers, seeing one in the exact same finger. "Uh...." He gave her a smile, the best he could as he felt chocked up on what to say. "I didn't think it got that wild last night... Hell I never been drunk that bad to where I would do this!" He chuckled to loosen himself up some, getting up he searched for his clothes. "I had fun last night...." He said, trying to remember if they in fact got married at some point. Perhaps he was drugged midway through the night. "I must admit, I've never met someone who was strong like you." He smirked as he got his pants on, his eyes scanning down her body. "Then again... This is the first I ever stalked somebody you know? God if perry found out what I did...whew I'd go back to jail." Paris got back on the ground and pulled her in his lap, lightly kissing the tip of her nose. "So...what'd you use on me? Rupees?"

 Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: ǝsɐɔ ʇǝʞsɐq Date: 12-21-2013 20:13:24

There was something so transfixing about the heat, the desire, and swift motions between them. Eden couldn't recall ever feeling like this, let alone so quickly, Paris left her lusting for more with each passing moment that she was left weak and exhausted after they'd been brought back down to earth. She laid on the floor, her back a little achy from their descent from the couch, and she smiled, almost mischievously up at him, as if their first go at it together had been nothing but over and beyond sensational. Her grip was still tight on one of his arms, her nails had clearly dug their way into his skin, she let them free of his skin, looking at them as she did so and then back to him, "Sorry, guess I got a little .... caught up in it all. Forgive me for what I'm sure will last longer than any aches and pains we'll have from that tumble earlier." She sighed with exhaustion, pushing up to kiss him once more before it really set in. The exhaustion hit her harder than she expected, and she knew it was bad form to pass out right after, but there was nothing that could be done about it.

 But there was one thing that the exhaustion couldn't keep her from for long, every night since that day that would haunt her forever it came rushing back, just like the water had done. She woke up in a panic, her eyes darting open and her breathing quick and shallow, sitting up quickly to try to get her wits about her. It took a few momenta to even realize Paris was still there and she was surprised she hadn't woken him, in the past she'd been know to scream so loud that sometimes she's wake herself up. When her breathing finally slowed, she was quick to notice that the sin was already beginning to rise, soon enough the little studio apartment would flood with light and make it almost impossible to sleep. Eden got up, making sure to move slowly as to not wake Paris up before venturing to the small bathroom, where she closed the door before turning on the light. Her hair literally looked like she hadn't brushed it in days, that much she could tell while her eyes adjusted to the light. She took a brush from the shelf above the sink, running it through her hair until it looked somewhat presentable. All the while she kept sniffing at the air, his scent seemed to be on her, filling the space around her and it was intoxicatingly delightful. As she set the brush back onto the shelf she noticed she was still wearing her many rings, something she usually took off before bed, but in this case she'd been far too preoccupied to do so. She toyed with the one on her thumb as she turned off the light to the bathroom and opened the door to the living space.

 The silver band was simple, far too large to go on any other finger, and as she lied back down next to him, pulling a blanket from the couch, draping it over them, and moving his hand over it after she was done an idea popped into her head. She slipped all the other rings off her fingers, keeping the silver band in her reach and making sure just to keep one on her ring finger. Now she'd never been one to know much about where rings were supposed to go, but she at least knew what finger, so she laced her hand with that of his that was over the blanket, siding the ring on his while doing so. She grinned at their hands, a little bit more mischievously than she probably should have, but she knew it would be quite amusing to see his face when he saw it, there'd be no doubt in that.

 Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: Paris Date: 12-21-2013 18:07:53

Paris' fist clenched the fabric of her skirt, nearly ripping it as he pulled it off her hips. After he threw it to the side his lips crashed against hers for another feverish kiss. It had been awhile since he allowed himself to do something like this, something so different then his normal day to day stuff. Home, Perry, then back home to sleep. He hadn't done much with his life once he was let out, thinking it would always be this way. Paris pushed those thoughts away as he grabbed a hold of the last piece of clothing keeping her from being completely exposed. His eyes gazed down her naked body, mesmerized by her looks. His forceful nature got to the best of him, his jeans and boxers were quickly pulled off and thrown to the side. After he reached for his wallet he looked back at her and smirked. "There's one part you forgot to check....." He said as he unzipped it and pulled the packaged condom out of it. Paris busted it open and slid it on, throwing his wallet back on the ground. "Safety first right? Wouldn't want something to go unplanned huh?" He pressed his lips back to hers, almost forcing himself inside her as his hips began to rock against hers. The couch wasn't big enough for something like this, hell Paris alone thought his fingers pierced through the cushions as he gripped on it. Aggravated with it he rolled the two of them off it, stopping once he was on top again. "We'll feel that later..."  Nightfall seem to come fast, Paris laid wide awake as he looked up at the ceiling. Eden's body remained close to his, sound asleep with his arm wrapped around her tiny frame. His hair was a mess, cheeks still flushed from all the excitement, he counted three marks on his body that he could see. It definetly was nothing like he ever had, whereas most women just took it she seemed to fight back; which was a huge turn on for him. Paris raked his fingers through his drenched locks, trying to comb out the mess it was. Blindly his hand reached for his phone, turning it on to see what felt like a dozen missed calls from both his parents with countless messages. "Must've been on silence...." He said quietly to himself, smirking as he shook his head. Paris looked down at Eden, seeing how peacefully she slept against him. His fingers lightly trailed down her cheek as he smiled. His parents didn't need him home tonight, he'd much rather stick around. With a deep sigh he closed his eyes again, allowing the sleepiness to win as he drifted off into dreaming on what events took place during the last few hours.

 Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: ǝsɐɔ ʇǝʞsɐq Date: 12-07-2013 17:36:20

 There was something there that Eden had never been able to comprehend with anyone before, Paris just made sense to her, and as she felt his hand grips hers and those lips smile at her, she felt she could genuinely return it with one of her own. It was strange, this new found emotion of actual happiness that she was sure she had at some point in her life, but no one had even tried to get it out of her and he'd already managed it without trying. When her pulled her up and onto his lap, feeling his forehead brush against her own her eyes met his, and much as she had done as a child she stared into those brilliant eyes of his, not searching, just watching, sinking deep into them as if she could almost see his soul. She was so caught up in him that she hadn't realized that he had removed her bra, she was exposed and in so many more ways than just her bare skin being out in the open, and she actually didn't care, for once in her life it felt so right, so unquestionably right.

 Her legs slipped to either side of him, her long skirt literally pooling around them and as he left her breathless with another kiss she pulled all of herself closer to him, even being inches apart didn't seem acceptable. There was no denying the bulge growing beneath her, it excited her, and she felt herself almost dragging her lower half against him at an excruciatingly slow pace, there wasn't anything she didn't want to feel, and it was so easy to do so when all that stood between them was his jeans and what little fabric there was covering her. Ever kiss between them felt deep, passionate and delightfully warm and intoxicating, she relished in each one, both of her hands now on either of his shoulder, her fingers in his hair, dragging along his neck when she'd get lost in him. So when he pulled them from her, she felt lost in another sense, but when he found a new place to delight her with she wasn't going to argue. He was forceful, but also gentle, a combination that left her with more want then she ever knew she could desire, her head fell to to top of his, her lips pressing tightly together as she drew in a deep breath, he smelled amazing, and it took everything within her to not want to take him in that instant. She'd let him continue, to ignite that fire within her, and then she's show him why she had said what she had about her name earlier.

 Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: Paris Date: 12-07-2013 16:49:43

Something as simple as a kiss, meant more than words to Paris. He clutched her hand tightly, squeezing it some as he gave her a small smile as his own way of saying thank you. The number of times he was told sorry were enough to drive him insane. Although it was terrible what happened, he felt that it was a way to remind him of the horrible he had done. Paris sat her up in his lap, resting his forehead to hers as his breathing became slightly heavy. Eden looked breathtaking, her body perfect in his eyes. He lightly kissed her nose as his hands went behind her back, looking for the latch of her bra. For once in his life, speaking didn't seem necessary to him... Only action. His lips met up with hers as he took off her bra. The way her lips moved against his felt inviting, warm. His tongue made its way to hers as he deepened the kiss. His groin ached under her, begging for atleast the same friction from earlier.

Allowing it he began to tease her against his hardening shaft, making sure she could feel where it wanted to go. A small grunt escaped his lips, feeling the pleasure of just her body this close to him being overwhelming. Paris broke the kiss and looked down at her body, seeing it move against his as she wanted some form of release as well. His thumb traced her hardening bud on her right breast, the soft flesh being grasped by his hand as the other nipple met up with his lips. His shaft felt restrained, being forced to stay down due to his jeans. Paris forced her body to work harder against him, wanting to be completely ready by the time the clothes were completely off.

 Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: ǝsɐɔ ʇǝʞsɐq Date: 12-07-2013 1:33:08

The moment he pulled his lips from hers Eden was full of confusion and she opened her eyes to see him in such a terrified state she couldn't help but wonder if she'd done something wrong. Her hands drew back from him as she propped herself up on her elbows, gazing up at him in wonder as he seemed to be at a loss of words. And then her eyes met his and the look in them was all too familiar, there was pain in them, something had triggered what she assumed was a flash back, but she wasn't sure exactly what it had been or what the memory could possibly be. "Paris?" she asked, almost hesitantly, unsure how far he'd been swept into the memory, and when he did eventually come to she could breath a little easier. It wasn't until the shirt that he wore was removed that it began to be a little clearer, she could see from her position the scar tissue all along his back, indeed it must have more closer to an excruciating memory, even still it looked painful. She looked at the scar, seeing that she had really only been inches from touching the scar moments earlier and then she turned her attention back to him as he spoke, and she could tell there was something else he wanted to say, but she wasn't going to push him. There was little she could think of to say to him, all her scars were internal, years of torment and abandonment haunted her, so she said nothing, just simply pushed herself up onto her hands and placed a soft and tender kiss upon his forehead, it was her way of saying that she understood.

 Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: Paris Date: 12-07-2013 0:02:52

The tips of Eden's fingers came so close, his heart raced in a way that wasn't good when they almost ran across it. Quickly Paris pulled away from her lips, his chest heaving while his eyes were filled with regret. "I..." He glanced down at her, feeling a little more at ease while his heart stopped racing against him. He lightly bit his bottom lip as he thought, so upset with himself as memories of that night flashed through his head. Drunk, as always Paris laid in the field with some woman he just met. Clothes completely scattered around them as they teased around with each other. Then theflames engulfed were they were, she completely running off without him. It was if he was there again, the heat making him somewhat sweat as he thought about it. The pain that came the moment his bare skin on his back came in contact with the flame... his eyes shut tightly as he told himself he wasn't there anymore. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to startle you." His eyes opened back to look down at her, feeling safe in her apartment now. Paris gave her a small smile before he took off his shirt. There in plain sight was the scar from that night, starting at the bottom of his shoulder blade down to his entire bottom right back. His fingers traced the destroyed skin, "it's what keeps me from going back....."

 Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: ǝsɐɔ ʇǝʞsɐq Date: 12-06-2013 23:22:11

Eden found herself lost in those moments when his lips would press to hers with such haste that it was intoxicating. It was like that first kiss left her wanting more, her tongue gliding past his lips, dragging against his tongue and relishing in the warmth of it just as she felt him push her back onto the couch. When he pulled his lips from hers she wasn't sure what to make of it, but she could see that wicked grin tracing along those lips of his and she just gazed up at him, she was enthralled, enamored, every bit of her felt like it was coursing from this inconceivable high. She listened to him, once again slightly amused that she'd seemed to catch him off guard, that her lips turned up into another one of those uncommon movements of a smile as his thumb glided over them. "Well its a first for me... You just ...," and then she turned her head to the side, feeling that warmth rush to her cheeks again and she kept her head turned before she spoke again, "make me feel things I'm not used to. Things that ... I can't even begin to explain, but I assure you they're delightful." When she felt his hands and hips upon her she felt safe enough to turn back to him, her bottom lip in the clutches in her teeth again. Heat was beginning to rise with in her as he continued to motion her hips against her and she chose to draw a leg around him, wanting the feeling to only intensify. She let him have his way with her, feeling his tug at her shirt and she sat up just slightly so that they were easier to remove. She let out a small delightful sigh as he took his lips to her skin again and she turned her head slightly towards the side of his, letting her tongue drag along the side of his ear before her teeth nipped lightly at the lobe. Her hand that had been at his neck moved down, her fingers playing along his back until she reached the edge of his shirt and her hand drew it up under his shift ever so slightly, feeling the firmness of the skin on his back.

 Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: Paris Date: 12-06-2013 17:56:46

It was if Eden had some kind of control on him. Usually Paris was the one who called the shots on most things yet even he was taken aback when her lips met with his. Sure he had his fair share of first kisses, yet there was something paciular about this one. His arms held her small frame close to his, pushing her down on her own couch as he deepened the kiss. It was crazy enough that he did what he had done earlier today, but this was something else. Eden was something else. Already pulling away so soon he wanted more. Yet with the way his ego was he had to look down and smile at her. "I must admit, usually I make the first move. It's nice to see somebody else take control." Paris' thumb ran across her full bottom lip as he spoke. Her cheeks seemed flushed with excitement as his was. A smirk played on his lips as his hand traveled down to her chest, groping her breast lightly as he grounded his hips against hers some. The friction alone was enough to get a rise out of him, it'd been months since he last done anything close to this. The want in his eyes was obvious, to him at least. Her shirt had to come off, no questions asked or anything. He grabbed a hold of the white cloth and helped her pull it over her head. Paris allowed her to keep the bra on, not wanting to rush into things too fast. His lips pressed against the base of her throat, lightly kissing it as his hips continued to move over hers.

 Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: ǝsɐɔ ʇǝʞsɐq Date: 12-05-2013 1:29:30

Eden watched with slight amusement as the realization of what she had said hit him, and a silence fell between them. The edges of her lips turned up into an almost heartfelt smile, a movement she wasn't used to so it didn't quite have the same effect. The fact that she could silence him with such a simple thing as a word was endearing, usually she was the one stuck in silence and even from the moment they'd met at the station he'd said more in that time then she'd spoken in a few days. She nodded her head just a bit in reply to his question, "Yes, pleasure, not exactly what one would think, but I think it has value in certain things." Eden watched him intently as the whole shock of her words seemed to settle a bit and then she saw the one thing that made it worth it, that smirk upon his lips that made her feel like the room had started spinning. But it seemed like he was planning on pushing her right past the spinning and into a whole other realm of unfamiliar territory as he began to close the space between them and she felt those familiar fingers along the side of her face. She tried to focus before she spoke but wasn't sure if she'd managed it, "I'll ... Uh ... Keep that in mind. Wouldn't want to, you know, not live up to said expectations."

 Eden didn't know what to make of what was happening, and she certainly wasn't going to fight it, personal space at this point was falling to the wayside. She'd already felt that nervous flutter twice before that day, now she was sure it those nerves were visible as her cheeks burned upon hearing the fact that someone in the world, but more importantly him, actually thought she was beautiful. It wasn't something she'd ever heard stated outright, and there he was, just stating how he felt, and now she was the one caught off guard again, feeling thing for him she was sure she'd never felt before, but had no certain way of even vocalizing them. So she felt almost a sense of relief when she felt those lips, those same lips that she'd found herself lingering too long on, upon the soft skin of her collarbone. 'Oh my god!!' was all she could think, her mind reeling as the sensation was nothing less than incredible. Her teeth gripped her lower lip hastily as he continued and she let herself get lost in it for a moment, her arm wrapping around him, her fingers gliding through his hair. She arched her back slightly, almost purposefully drawing his lips from her skin, intent on pulling them to her own that when she got them she pressed a heated kiss into him, letting go of any inhibitions she had.

 Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: Paris Date: 12-05-2013 0:19:25

"Who knows. Maybe when I meet that special lady I'll start a war for her.." Paris stared off in the distance as she spoke. Her name was unique, he was sure he'd never met an Eden in his life. The name certainly fit her in the beauty since, but it wasn't until she uttered the word pleasure that stopped him dead silent. His eyes snapped back in her direction, mind unsure on what he should say which was a first. He didn't want to be up front on everything and tease about if they should test it out to see if it was true. Instead, he just smiled in her direction ones again. "Pleasure huh?" His arm snaked its way back to him as he straighted up his posture. Paris remained silent, still speechless on everything. Smirking some he positioned his body to face her. "I must say...that beats my meaning that is of course, you live up to it." He allowed himself to inch closer to her, breaking that 'personal bubble' zone she had. Softly his hand brushed up her cheek to push her hair back. "I've never been one to lie, and honestly I think you're the most beautiful thing I've seen." As cheesy as it sounded Paris didn't care, he thought that the moment he first saw her. Even while in Perry's office all he could think about was her. Hell he wouldn't be here if he didn't want to know more about this woman he met a mere few hours ago. He laid his forehead down against her shoulder, lightly kissing her collarbone.

_________________  From: Eden Bennett Date: 12-03-2013 0:21:22

 She slid his ID back into his wallet, handing it to it to him as he sat on the couch next to her. Her nose scrunch nose at the mention of Romeo and Juliet, "If that's the only pairing available..." Eden watched him intently as he began to tell her about his names origin, her gaze falling to her arm, watching and feeling the tip of his finger upon her skin. When she heard him stop speaking for a moment she looked back up to him with a small smile. "So are you planning on starting a war of your own someday?" She gave him a once over, perhaps longer than she should have before shrugging her shoulders, "Yea...I guess it kind of fits...." But her word were cut off as she felt his hand and arm wrap around her, and she turned to look at his hand, and then back to him where that smile of his just seemed to beam at her. She tried to clear her head as he asked her about her name so she didn't sound like a complete idiot. "I'm not sure to be honest. Grace and Isaac weren't the ones to name me." People may have thought it was strange that she called her parents by their first names but in the past few years calling them mom and dad didn't feel right, they didn't feel like family as they once had when she was a child. "I have however heard that there are a few meaning to the name, the garden of course, delight...and one of perhaps my favorites..." A little bit of a grin made its way across her lips and she looked up at him before she spoke again, "pleasure..."

 Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: Paris Date: 12-03-2013 2:03:22

Paris couldn't help but flinch when she threw her boots at him. "Whoa whoa whoa!!! ....calm down...." How she managed to get his wallet again was beyond him. It didn't upset him, just made him more curious on how she does it. "You can call me Romeo... Only if you be my Juliet of course." He sat down next to her on the small couch, letting out a loud sigh as he stretched. "Yep... I was named after the man who started the Trojan war just by stealing another man's woman.." Paris traced his finger against her arm. Most people think he was named after the city in France, which would always cause a rise out of him. His name was Greek just as he was, which was something he was always proud of. "Yeah... Of course he was good looking. I mean a woman wouldn't leave her husband for somebody who wasn't. I always thought the name fitted me in more ways then one." Paris wrapped his arm around her shoulder and grinned, wondering how awkward he had made her. "So... Does your name have some special meaning behind it. Did your parents name you Eden because you're as beautiful as the garden?"

 Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: Eden Bennett Date: 12-02-2013 0:12:28

 She was slightly taken aback by his clear lack of understanding about personal space and even if she had tried to move away there wasn’t much space between him and the door to move between. A brow cocked curiously as he smiled at her, what was it about that smile that left her feeling nervous again, much as it had back at the station. But as soon as he pushed past her screaming that he was Luke Skywalker that feeling subsided; now she was slightly frustrated that he’d intentionally avoided her question and made his way into her place. She huffed, throwing her boots in his direction, but not with the intention of hitting him, although if they had she would just consider it a happy accident. “Me, mad … no not at all,” she said finally as she walked into her apartment and closed the door behind her. “The next time you want to withhold information maybe you should be more attune to your proximity,” and with a wide grin she held up his wallet again, opening it as she walked over to the small couch that also pulled out into a bed, pulling out his ID as she sat upon it. “And so he has a name, Paris Micah Dounas.” _________________  From: Paris Date: 12-01-2013 23:44:14

Paris smirked smugly to himself as she started talking while opening the door. Maybe he wasn't ready to tell her his name, it was more of a game to him now compared to earlier. Once she turned to face him, he just shook his head and walked close to her. His hand grabbed the door handle as he allowed himself to practically press up against her. "You want to know who I am?" He glanced down at her and smiled, his grip on the door tightening up. "I'm Luke Skywalker and I'm here to rescue you!!" He practically screamed it as his hand turned the knob, shoving it open as he ran inside. Paris clutched at his abdomen as he laughed, his face turning a bright red as he lost oxygen. "Ok.....ok..... That was good... Admit it...." His laughing calmed down as he looked around, it was cozy...small...but cozy. He didn't have any room to judge, not wanting to mention he lived with his parents still. "Nice place..." He looked back at her and smiled. "Awe, don't tell me I upset you!"

 Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: Eden Bennett Date: 12-01-2013 21:58:30

 Eden didn’t know what to make of the stranger from the station and when he chuckled she wasn’t sure if it was because she looked ridiculous holding a pair of boots up in the air like a crazy person or because he had other sinister things in mind. She stepped back quickly on the stairs, not saying a word, her eyes wide a more full of fear than anything else as he jumped up and raised his voice to her. When he pulled out the wallet, her eyes gazed down on it, and when he opened it up and she saw the lack of contents in it her gaze drew up to him. She was purely puzzled, especially as he mentioned why he was there and then spoke her name, it was only after he started berating her with questions that she opted to speak, walking up the remaining stairs between them. “For a  person who claims to know enough to find me you sure are full of questions.”

 She dropped her boots on the mat by the front door before pulled a small set of keys from her bag to unlock it. “Before I answer your question…” she said as she turned to lock, “Why don’t you at least be a gentleman and tell me your name, you after all seem to already know so much about me.” Her tone was rather harsh; he’d already managed to touch a nerve she’d tried so hard to forget about over the past six years. “If you tell me you can come in, otherwise you might as well go, I don’t open my home to people I don’t know.” She slowly pushed the door open, turning to pick up her boots she glanced at him, at little glare in her eyes as she did so, “Well, what will it be then, in or out?” _________________  From: Paris Date: 12-01-2013 21:30:53

The startled look on her face made Paris chuckle. Perhaps for his own amusement he should play out like he was angry at her. "Why would you go around stealing people's wallets!?" He jumped up, acting as if he was really pissed off at her. He grabbed his wallet out of his back pocket, a light brown one that was a replica of Samuel L. Jackson's from Pulp Fiction (a movie that had always been a favorite of his.) "you see this?! You know how much money I keep in this?!" He opened it up to show the lack of it he really had, once she looked back up at him he just chuckled. "Don't worry sweetheart, Im not mad...." He closed it back up, shoving it in his back pocket once again. "I came here because a little voice inside my head told me I should. Our friend downtown doesn't seem to hide personal information easily. So tell me Eden Rayne Bennett... What made you snap?" Usually women who were kleptomaniacs or quiet meant something was wrong. "Lemme guess... Daddy touched you? No? Hmmm...... If it wasn't rape it must've been abuse. Did he spank you around too much. I always thought a little abuse never hurt a kid personally but who am I to judge huh!?" Paris had been known to just speak forever, never holding anything back no matter how fucked up it was. The ADD was to blame, that... And how he lacks people skills these days.

 Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: Eden Bennett Date: 11-30-2013 0:46:32

 Eden didn’t make a sound, just stood there as the stranger took his wallet back from her; the only response she gave to his comment was a quick flutter of her eye lashes as she just stared at him. He didn’t seem too perturbed by her, but she couldn’t say the same, he actually made her rather nervous, in a way she wasn’t used to. When Officer Perry returned to her to read her the riot act, Eden slightly tilted her head to the side, watching the stranger enter the office she’d just departed, slightly curious about him now. If she’d managed to get away with his wallet maybe there would have been information in there for her to learn more about, but alas she was walking away empty handed, and her ego a little bit more than bruised.

 Once outside the building Eden waited, as she always did for her father, it was his duty after all to pick her up after these sessions, but more often than not he’d forget about her. In fact only twice had he actually remembered that she was there, the two weren’t close, never had been and Eden had stressed her mother out to the point of near insanity that the option of her mother coming within feet of her was likely to never happen. So she waited … five.. fifteen … thirty minutes before she finally gave up any hope that Isaac would come and take her home. She had, however, managed to paint her nails in that span of time, a light purple that she felt offered a little whimsy to her look, which drastically needed some help. She wore a basic white t-shit over a tank top of the same color that was paired with a long purple skirt, which just barely covered the commando boots on her feet. With a slight sigh she once again made the trek back to her apartment, which was a long walk from the station, a good 45 minutes and she cursed under her breath that once again she’d have to walk it alone.

 By the time she reached the apartment complex where she resided Eden’s boots where in her hands, her messy blonde hair had frayed outside of its usual confined place in a hair tie and her breathing was slightly heavy. She groaned as she made her way up the rickety stairs to the second story apartment her father had purchased to ensure her mother wouldn’t lose her mind. It wasn’t anything fancy by any stretch a 300 square ft studio apartment in a neighborhood that left quite a bit to be desired, but it was hers and hers alone. So when she noticed a figure sitting outside the door to her apartment she stopped, raising up her boots as a means to defend herself. “I don’t have anything even worth keeping, please … just let me ….” And as she cimbed a few steps higher the face of the stranger stared back at her and she was thoroughly confused. “What in the world …?” she asked rhetorically “If you’re here for revenge or an apology I have to say I can give you neither, so you might as well just leave.” _________________  From: Paris Date: 11-29-2013 22:08:54

"You know how much I enjoy these little visitations Officer Perry..." Paris smirked as he walked towards her, the pissed off look in her face stopping him dead in his tracks. "Sheesh.... If I knew you wanted my money so bad sweet face I would've made you work for it." He gave her a small wink as he took back his wallet, checking to see if everything was there. "Go easy on her Perry, the ladies can't control themselves around me." He chuckled as he walked by himself to her office. Paris waited a few moments as she spoke to the thief who tried to steal his wallet. Perhaps he should consider getting a chain, it would be harder to steal it then he thought. Even if she got away with it all it really had was twenty bucks and a few expired coupons for McDonald's. When officer Perry came in he gave her a smile as she sat down. "You seem to be in a pleasant mood today..." She said, wondering why her usual convict wasn't his usual pessimistic self today. Paris just kept grinning at her and relaxed against the chair. "I think I'm in love officer... Do you believe in love at first sight?" The woman seemed disgusted by his words, thinking that it was the last thing he really needs. "Mr.Dounas I assure you you're better off without her." His eyebrow arched at her bluntness, "ouch....and I wonder what you say about me behind my back."  "So you won't give me a name of any sort?" He asked for the hundredth time, wanting to know more about this Ms.Bennett he spoke too earlier. "I'm not allowed to Paris, you know this." The tired woman rubbed her eyes, putting his file back in her desk before getting up, "I suppose we're done for the day, I'll see you same time next week." She walked out to the restroom down the hall, leaving him alone in her office. After checking the hallways he ran behind her desk, looking in that drawer for a file with the other woman's last name. "There you are...." He quickly opened it and read as fast as he could, "Eden huh......." He grabbed his phone and took a picture of the address she had listed on there. Pleased with himself after he cleaned up the mess he made he quickly made his way out. "Have a good weekend ma'am." He said to her as she came out of the bathroom. He entered the elevator with a smirk, feeling accomplished with himself.  The taxi dropped him off where the address said, Paris paid the man before darting off inside the apartment complex. After knocking a few times at her door he realized she must still be out. He just sat next to her door and waited, wondering when this Eden Bennett would show up.

 Sent via RolePlayer.me Mobile _________________  From: Eden Bennett Date: 11-19-2013 0:12:11

 Eden didn’t even try to stifle a yawn as it emitted past her lips, clearly she was bored, this meeting felt like it would never end. Officer Perry was just rambling at this point, going on about the endless places she’d end up if she kept up what she was doing. She just couldn’t help herself sometimes; her ability to mostly go unnoticed left her to often wonder what she could actually get away with without getting caught. But she had gotten caught, a few times, the last time was for shoplifting things she didn’t even want or need for that matter. A rather large back scratcher, a few bottles of deep purple nail polish and a packet of PEZ with Snoopy as the head was all she’d taken, in reality yes, they were stupid things to take, but would they really go unnoticed if she hadn’t gotten caught?

 “If it wasn’t for that damn back scratcher…” Eden mumbled under her breath, her thick Australian accent was present as she spoke, which she instantly regretted when Officer Perry stopped talking. “Eden, c’mon!” the woman nearly screamed at her, “You’re on a downward spiral here kid, take it from me, if you don’t stop it now it’s going to take you places you’d never want to go.” As much as the woman may have been right Eden really just didn’t care and she swiftly rolled her eyes to the comment. “Like anyone would notice if I just up and disappeared one day, you’re the only one who doesn’t think I’m bloody invisible and that’s because I’m required to come here.” And then relief flung itself at her as she heard the quick little beep of the timer in the room, signaling the end of their meeting, “I’ll try better, promise!” she said in a hurry before leaving the office.

 Not more than a few steps outside of that office doorway and she heard an unfamiliar sound that caught her off guard and when she looked to find its creator she cocked a questioning brow and then looked around. Was he really referring to her as this so called “angel” cause last time she’d checked she didn’t have wings. “Uhhhh, it’s” but she paused as her eyes caught the small bulge in his back pocket and she went for it as she mumbled her name quietly under her breath and then turned to walk away. “Miss Bennett!” and in that instant she stopped walking, scrunching up her face and closing her eyes, yep, she was caught. “Buggar, buggar, buggar,” she cursed to herself as she turned around to face officer Perry’s legitimately beating red face, “Would you be so kind as to give Mister Dounas his wallet back?” With a frustrated sigh she pulled his wallet from her bag by the corner with two fingers and held it up to her line of site, giving it a once over before handing it to the one she’d taken it from without a word. _________________  From: Paris Date: 11-18-2013 22:10:44

"Look, I'm only here just to keep the big man happy and to keep me out of the slammer. I know I've done wrong so let's just move on from it." Slouching down in the chair, Paris refused to make any more eye contact with the woman in front of him. The past eighteen months had hardened him some, Juvi wasn't anything like he expected. Now 18, he was free to do what he wanted. He was still asked to see a probation officer for the next few months. Now if he was going to follow that rule was the question. "We want to make sure that this incident will never happen again sir, now if you would just talk to...." Paris' icy state cut her midway. "Why should I listen to you anyhow? You're just a woman."  The next visits weren't any better, although he swore to never brutally assault people some of his other habits have yet to die. His Neo-nazi clothing for example, still a major part of his daily wardrobe. Even if he was seeing Officer Perry he had no problem whatsoever to wear it. His hair remained untouched, the one thing he somewhat enjoy having back again. The next visit was within the hour, Paris hadn't even gotten up to get ready yet. He had missed last weeks, which resulted in a serious call that if he was to miss again they would have a warrant for his arrest. Honestly jail time didn't sound too bad, the real world had nothing for him. If it wasn't for his Mom coming in and forcing him up he would've waited for the police to come then. He quickly threw on a pair of jeans and a simple wife beater, not looking to impress really anybody today anyways. Once he was finished his mom waited in the car, wanting to make sure he arrived there and stayed.  "I just wish you would take this seriously..." The older woman took out a handkerchief and rubbed the corner of her eye as she drove. Paris just slipped on his sunglasses and stared blankly at the road. "That woman has no right to judge me." The brainwashing his brothers had done was etched in his brain practically. "No nigger, Jew, faggot or woman has any right to say what I did was wrong okay?!" His mom remained mute, hating her son for saying what he just did. Her hand reached for the radio and turned it on to drown the silence, leaving Paris alone to finally sulk in his seat. Once they got there he didn't bother saying anything to her, just went ahead and got out. As he walked up to the room he noticed a newer client he assumed. Deciding he was going to lighten up his own mood,Paris smirked and whistled in her direction, giving her a wink once she looked his way. "How's it going gorgeous?" His tongue lightly brushed against his lower lip as all she did was stare. "Heaven's missing an angel, you got a name sexy?" He chuckled as another cop pulled him away "She is ready to see you Dounas." He said as he guided him back to the room. "So long sweetheart! Until we meet again!"