#you can also not recognise fault and then continue to behave in the same way

[elle-smells]

the worst kind of disease is thinking that bcs you are not the worst kind of racist, misogynist, homophobe, etc that somehow absolves you of any fault

[ficforce]

A Moment Of Weakness

Foien x Reader Foien Li had a reputation for being devout to a fault, he didn’t seem to have a single black mark against him and it was hard not to respect him. He could be a little judgemental and he was strict with rules of the Church but also very fair, he led by example for the most part, but he was one of the first to tell other’s that he was nowhere near perfect. Foien felt a light touch on his shoulder as he was crouched by the flowers in the garden weeding them, “Lieutenant Li.” The man had recognised her light footsteps along the path before she had even approached and a small part of him had hoped she would continue past him, an even smaller part of him hoped she would stop to speak with him. Things felt different now, the loss of Rekka, the scandal caused by his radical ideas and the loss of Foien’s right arm all weighed heavily on his shoulders as well as the Company’s… the thing that bothered him most was his moment of weakness. Surely he had ruined things…

Still, he put on a smile and softened his voice, “Y/N, good morning…” he stood up, dusting off the dirt from his knees, and then turned to face her properly, “Oh,” Foien’s brows furrowed as he looked at her slightly off coloured face. Her eyes were glassy and her skin looked a little clammy, he noted the slight sway as she stood there and Foien reached out to hold her upper arm gently, “Are you sick? Y/N you should go in and rest, I’ll take you.” He wouldn’t listen to any protests from her, instead ,he guided her up the steps and into the towering hallways toward her dormitory room – they made it half way before Y/N leaned against the wall after stopping suddenly. “…Y/N?” the back of the man’s fingers brushed her hair out of the way and he bent down a little to look at her, worry etched into his face, “Do you feel like you’re going to be sick?” Y/N nodded and Foien made them backtrack the short distance to his room, unlocking it quickly so that she could escape to his small ensuite. Foien left her for a short moment, heading to the kitchens he asked for a pitcher of water with lemon slices, smiling at the Sister when she tried not to fuss over him as he was awkwardly holding the pitcher handle and a glass precariously in his one hand. Everyone was trying so hard not to take pity on him - he hated it. By the time he got back and nudged the door open with his foot Y/N had finished emptying her stomach contents, she looked down sheepishly as she came out of the little side room and didn’t put up any resistance when Foien asked her to sit on the bed – it would be safer if she suddenly felt faint. “I’m sorry…” Y/N mumbled, “I’ve not been feeling great the last couple of weeks. Sometimes it’s the morning and sometimes it’s in the evening, I only wanted to say hello…” her fingers gripped around her cross, pulling the chain a little in a nervous habit, once he held the glass out to her she dropped the cross and took the glass, “I’ve not really seen you since…” She didn’t need to finish her sentence, Foien was already turning his head in shame and her silence was deafening,”I took advantage of your kindness, Y/N, I honestly don’t know how to… even what to say.” They had to talk about it eventually, he knew they did, it was just difficult to piece the words and feelings together out loud. How did he even begin to explain himself for the liberties he had taken that night? Foien removed his hat to place it on his desk, a small distraction so that he didn’t have to look her in the eye for a few more seconds, “I behaved appallingly. I haven’t treated you with the kindness and respect you deserve since – I feel like I’ve betrayed your feelings…” The man lowered his head in shame, murmuring another apology. He felt her hands take his and the soft touch burned, “Foien,” she whispered, “You were suffering, so much had happened and…” her cheeks heated, “And you treated me so gently, Foien. You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to.” Y/N’s fingertips traced over the back of his hand but he pulled away a little and she felt a sting come up behind her eyes, a pressure of wanting to cry but knowing she couldn’t hurt him anymore than he was already. “If anything… I took advantage of you.” She remembered how broken he had seemed that night, despite Rekka’s betrayal and crimes, they had held a funeral for Lieutenant Hoshimiya. Foien had been suffering both mentally and physically because of his injury, Karim had sat with his hands tented and a blank look in his eyes - guilt eating away at him like a cancer. Y/N had waited at the back of the Cathedral for her Lieutenant, she had watched quietly as Foien sat beside his friend and tried to offer him comfort, Karim couldn’t bear to look at Foien. It had been heart breaking to watch Lieutenant Karim fall apart as Foien tried and failed to tent his hands in a final prayer, Karim felt responsible for all of it. Eventually ,Captain Burns took over and the blonde man had made to leave, she had followed him out when she saw him stumble and helped him back to his room. Whilst she had been

changing his bandages Foien had leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers. Soft and timid, so unsure that she would return it but when she had pulled back in surprise and seen his eyes, pleading with her for comfort, Y/N had leaned back in to kiss him. She hadn’t always been a Sister, she had lived an adventurous life before finding her calling to the Church, something that had shocked her friends but brought her such peace, enough to join a small convent in the south before working her way toward Company 1 as a fire soldier. A man’s touch wasn’t strange to her and Foien’s touch had been confident, his deep, longing kisses experienced and heady. There was no doubt in her mind that she wasn’t the first woman he had ever been with but the way he whispered her name, like it was the most sacred word to him, and the way he worshipped her body, kissing every inch of her, apologising over and over for defiling her like he was but needing it so much, it made her feel like the only one. He took comfort from her and she knew that the moment it was over he regretted it. Foien had been as polite as he could be, begging her forgiveness as he practically shoved her out of his room and then she had heard him praying aloud, confessing his sins and trying to find excuses for his weakness. She was a mistake and Y/N had tried to console herself that, even if for a moment, she had lifted some of the terrible weight from him and gotten the kisses she had desired for so long. They had barely spoken since and it was that in particular, that hurt her. They had always been close, similar interests and sense of humour, they liked to swap reading recommendations, they liked to take care of the gardens and she was under his care when they were out on missions. Being attracted to him had always felt so unfair to her, Y/N adored his kindness and devotion, she loved how he was with the little ones and the rare times she got to see his eyes always left her breathless. Kissing him should have been all of her dreams come true, if only it hadn’t been so bittersweet. Had he wanted her or would anyone have done in his moment of need? “I’ve missed you…” Foien murmured and finally looked up at her. “Really?!” Her hands came up to cover her mouth, a hot flush coming up on her cheeks at her reaction and she lowered her voice, “I… I’m sorry, I’m just really happy you said that.” It was embarrassing to admit it but now that he had said that he missed her she couldn’t help but open up too, “I hate the way things are, I know we can’t be together and that likely you don’t even want that but we don’t have to stop being friends - we can’t change what happened or what’s going to happen next. I needed to sp…ugh…” Y/N’s stomach churned again and she took a deep breath in before releasing it slowly. The Priest frowned and tentatively rested his palm on her forehead, she didn’t even seem warm, he moved to sit beside her on the bed and held her chin up so that he could inspect her face. “You haven’t felt well for a few weeks? Have you seen a doctor? Your eyes are a little glassy but otherwise, you look beau-” Foien cut himself off for all of a second before he decided that lying was no better than any other sin, “Beautiful. You always look beautiful, Y/N. I should confess that I wanted to make love to you for the longest time and I’m not sorry for what happened between us - just the circumstances that led to it. I’m so tired of the pity in people’s eyes, I’m so tired of feeling like I’m alone and thinking that this isn’t a test of faith from God but that he’s abandoned me… I’ve lost my friend, I’ve lost my arm, I’m losing my faith and -“ “You’re not losing me.” Her arms were around his neck quicker than she thought possible, her fingers buried in his hair as her other hand squeezed his shoulder, “You’re not alone, Foien. I won’t let you be and it’s not out of pity but out of love.” She didn’t pity him, she was proud of him and she really did love him… even if he couldn’t do the same. “Don’t choose between me and the Church, I’m happy just being able to be by

your side.” “I want to choose you, I choose to believe in you and the words you’re telling me too.” His face buried into her hair and he took in a shuddering breath, “I’m choosing not to lose anymore and love more than a religion, I’m choosing to love you as I have wanted to for so long.” A long moment of silence passed, far less tense than any of the others before and as he began to relax in her arms she let out a shaky sigh. She moved back a little and took his hand from her side, moving it over her stomach instead and looking up at him shyly, “You’re not losing anything anymore, just take what I can give you… and share what you have given me.”

[an-ambivalent]

Pernicious Poison [Yandere! Jennie]

Warnings: This work deals with yandere themes, consists of sort of non-con nsfw?? and other behaviours that can be uncomfortable or triggering to read. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fiction. I do not believe any of the mentioned members would display this sort of this behaviour irl, and I do not condone any of this behaviour irl.

A/N: okay so here’s the deal. This was going to be an one-shot and what you read below was just going to be the start so if it feels incomplete it is. I was going to write more to it but I forgot how I was going to continue to it lol RIP. So this is pretty shitty ngl lol

With meticulous care,

You fed me the poison.

Intoxicated my mind and soul,

until you made me yours.

[Name] often wondered what was wrong with her; what was it about her that led others to cheat her, to take advantage of her. They tore her honest heart one piece at a time, and every person she thought could be the one, was nothing except for another trash in the sea who took everything she had to offer, never returned even a fraction of it, before dumping her to be on their merry way. It was not even one or two who may have cheated on her, it was every single one she was introduced to. With one after another sleeping behind her back with someone else, and her being the sole common variable in all of the situations, it did make her question herself. It felt as if something was at fault with her, that if all of them cheated on her, she lacked something, she was not enough -- she would never be enough. If this happened so many times, then for whatever reason she could not think of, this was what she deserved, this was as good as it was going to get. 

Tonight, it was a hot night. The thick humidity in the air made one’s clothes stick to them uncomfortably due to the excessive sweating even if they were only sitting idly. Due to the hot weather, and the hot conditions from the sexual activities [Name] had been engaged in, there was a desperate need to release; there had been sweat which had uncomfortably gathered in between her legs and soaking her underwear before they were even close, and other parts of her body. After all the stress she had been harbouring over the last few weeks, she was really looking forward to being able to destress and be completely undone. And although the sex had started off amazing with her current partner, it had resulted in an unsatisfatory climax. There was build up, but no release. As much as it had left [Name] frustrated, she knew by now that she did not get the privilege to complain or voice out her frustration. She was  lucky enough that they spared time for her in the first place. 

“Thanks for quickie [Name],” her partner for the night whispered, before leaving a last heated kiss underneath the ear. As quick as they were to leave once their pleasure was accomplished, they removed themselves from on top of her. Swiftly, they put on whatever articles of their clothing that had been discarded on the floor, as [Name] gingerly sat up, and adjusted the thin straps of her singlet over her shoulders once more to cover her priorly revealed skin. 

One of the phones that was on the bedside table beside the bed, lit up momentarily indicating a new received notification. [Name] did not recognise the phone to be her own so it surely belonged to her partner. She managed to catch a glimpse of what the message was and the implications of it had caused her breath to hitch in her throat. 

It was happening again. The vicious cycle where she let herself be poisoned because that was all that she was ever given, was starting again. 

The message read: when r u coming over for netflix and chill tonight??? ;) 

She tried to keep it casual. 

“Message from a friend?” she asked, and despite her best efforts, the strain from emotions was evident in her voice. 

However, she was not given any response other than a smirk, before they grabbed their phone and walked out, leaving [Name] to her own matters. She sighed before she completely fell back against the bed’s headboard in a half lying and half sitting position. Feeling exhausted and drained for more than words could describe, she closed her eyes and decided to focus on the surroundings around her. Presently, she was one of the many who had decided to seclude themselves to the many bedrooms there were in this house. It was a ‘house’ for who it belonged to, but for an average person’s standard, it could be described as a manor; a manor, whom’s premises [Name] was rather familiar with despite the fact that it did not belong to her. It belonged to her close friend Kim Jennie, who often hosted parties here on an almost daily basis. She was also the one who often introduced the people [Name] ended up dating. In general, with how much time Jennie ended up making [Name] spend it with her, a lot of it was spent here so it was only given she had become accustomed to the gigantic house. 

Speaking of parties, the pop music for the party that resonated loudly throughout the manor, buzzed as incoherent but still familiar insignificant noise at the back of [Name]’s mind. As [Name]’s hand trailed down her body and towards her underwear, in hopes to finish the job her partner should have, her heart began to beat louder and quicker in her ears and against her rib cage in anticipation. Just as her fingers brushed against her folds, and her breathing fastened, with some of her juices coating her fingers, the door to the room was snapped open viciously, and then shut just as quickly. 

Instantly, [Name] withdrew her hand, and with wide eyes, she turned towards to see the intruder. Her cheeks felt flushed in embarrassment when she saw Jennie staring at her with an odd intenseness present in her gaze which she was unable to decipher. 

“Again?” Jennie enquired, and she walked towards [Name]. Jennie shifted the duvet covers as she settled in the bed in the same position as [Name] beside her before she moved the duvet covers on top of them. 

[Name] felt goosebumps stand at the back of her neck as she felt Jennie slowly beginning to caress her arm beside her. Her stomach begin to slowly start twisting itself into knots out of anxiety, and despite how much [Name] did not want to ponder on it, recently, with how Jennie looked at her, and behaved with her, it was beginning to become unsettling. 

“You really have the worst luck with love don’t you [Name],” Jennie started in a low whisper, as she laid her head on her shoulder. “Always being left back, left unsatisfied -- none of them treat you the way you should be treated. It’s unfair, don’t you think? And it always makes you feel like it's your fault. Aren’t you sick of being tossed aside like trash? Being everyone’s last choice?” The more things she whispered, the more the churning in [Name]’s stomach increased. As Jennie intertwined her fingers with [Name]’s, with the very fingers that she had touched herself with and were slightly coated with her own juices, the unsettling discomfort became prominent and sat as the evident devil on her left shoulder. When [Name] tried to pull away from Jennie’s grip on her hand, her efforts remained fruitless because Jennie’s grip was too strong for her. 

“Why are you pulling away from me? I’m the only one who’s always there to mend your broken heart. I’m the one who’s always here to comfort you.” A pause, before Jennie brought up [Name]’s hand to her mouth and started to lick her juices off her fingers slowly, and in between her licks, she spoke. “It’s only right that you reciprocate my actions and feelings isn’t it? Forget about being with everyone else and just focus on us, on me, and the love only I can give you,” Jennie murmured with specks of fixation evident in her voice. Then, without any further notice, she pressed her lips against [Name]’s.

---

I’m really sorry about the poor quality if you actually read this ;^)

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 127

Chapter Summary - Danielle and Tom return home and organise themselves for their next time apart, but Danielle's trip to the shops leads to a peculiar situation.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

Copyright for the photo is the owners, not mine.

I WILL get there, it is my dream!

All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​​ @jessibelle-nerdy-mum​​ @nonsensicalobsessions​​ @damalseer​​ @hiddlesbitch1​​ @winterisakiller​ @fairlightswiftly​​ @salempoe​​ @wolfsmom1

‘Where are my best boys?’ Both dogs were almost frantic to get to Tom and Danielle as she knelt down in front of them. Mac got there first on account of his longer legs and Bobby tumbling en route. When he righted himself, he decided to seek attention from Tom before both dogs seemed to hear a silent signal and both swapped humans almost as though they had choreographed it. ‘Did you miss us?’ Bobby all but climbed into her arms and licked her face.

‘What happened to not rewarding this behaviour?’ Tom asked as he scratched the fur on Mac’s chest.

‘I saw you do it first.’ She grinned as she cuddled the pup in her arms.

They got the dogs into the car, securing them before heading back to the house. Tom spoke about different engagements to do with Early Man as they went.

‘Did you spend much time with the rest of the cast for the movie?’ Danielle asked.

‘No, you don’t with voice work, you are in a recording studio, mostly by yourself.’

‘Do you know the rest of the cast well, bar Redmayne?’

‘Not really, I mean, I met most of them a few times, the British circuit is a smaller one, but I will have to spend the most of my time with Maisie and Eddie for the promotion.’

‘Maisie Williams, right?’

‘Yes….’

‘I like her, she and I spent way too long talking about her stunts when she and I were on the set together, she is mad in the loveliest possible way.’ Tom stared at her. ‘She’s in Game of Thrones you absolute numpty.’ Danielle laughed.

Tom shook his head and chuckled. ‘Oh course, how foolish of me. You will see Redmayne before me though.’

‘No, he is there for the second week, he is doing stuff for Early Man the first one.’

‘How do you know this?’

‘I may have checked the schedule on the flight back.’

‘Elle!’

‘What, you were asleep and I am leaving first thing, so I wanted to get ready and that way get in the shopping and walk the dogs at home instead of readying for this.’

Tom nodded slightly. ‘That does sound like a better idea, in all fairness.’

‘So, we drop the dogs and bags back, I get some shopping while you sort the house and...why are you looking at me like that?’

‘You’re not even going to be here, why are you getting the shopping?’ Tom chuckled.

‘Because I don’t forget half the list because some people recognise me and then forget why I was there, leading to a return to the shop fifteen minutes later to forget….again!.’

‘That was one time.’

‘You mean you only forgot twice one time, it is not the only time you did that.’ She laughed. ‘You can remember Hamlet, including five soliloquies but you cannot remember to get red currant jelly.’

‘I am a terrible man.’ Tom chuckled, taking her hand and kissing it.

‘Well, you had to have some faults. Contrary to many of your fan’s beliefs, you’re not actually a deity.’

‘You seem to think me a deity when we’re in bed.’

‘Behave.’ She warned, giving him a momentary glare, but there was a grin edging its way into her features as she did.

When they got back to the house, Mac saw fit to mark the two cars as well as the two brick gate posts before finally going inside, Bobby having already went to ensure their bed was still where it had been before. Tom and Danielle brought in their bags and their gifts that they had gotten, into the house.

‘I am not going to lie, your way of doing this is far easier.’ Tom beamed as he took his suitcase upstairs as Danielle brought hers to the back kitchen to the washing machine.

‘Well, it makes more sense, all the dirty laundry in one bag, the clean in the other, otherwise you are forced to wash everything, and that is not practical.’ Danielle explained as she ascended the stairs after him.

‘Very thrifty, Ms Hughes.’

‘I am a very practical woman.’ She smiled as she entered the bedroom, laughing as she watched Tom jokingly toying with her unused underwear, a cheeky grin on his face. ‘You fecking eejit.’ His smile only widened at her reaction. ‘How are you a man that is assumed to be so professional and proper and here you are, messing with my panties?’

‘I am a very talented actor.’ Tom beamed proudly.

‘Fecking eejit.’ She laughed. ‘I am going to get some shopping.’ She grabbed her purse that she had left at her side of the bed and left the room.

‘What about…’

She paused on the stairs as a concerned looking Tom came out of the room. ‘Yes, love?’

‘Why would you pay for the food when I am the one that will eat most of it?’

‘Because there is a water charges bill that needs paying on the counter, they will be about the same.’ She dismissed.

‘Fair enough.’ Tom shrugged. ‘Don’t forget the Hobnobs.’

‘I plan on getting two packs.’

‘I love you.’

‘You love Hobnobs.’ Danielle laughed.

‘I love you more though.’

‘Good to know.’ She chuckled as she grabbed her jacket and went to the shops.

*

Danielle paid little heed to anything around her bar the road as she parked and paid her ticket before grabbing a few bags from the back seat and rushing into the first shop.

It did not take long to get what she needed, eggs, milk and other such items, before heading to the butchers for meat. Grabbing the few things for the rest of the week, she didn’t really think too much of anything before bagging her purchases and leaving again. It was at the last stop, a small Tesco Express not far from the car to get Tom’s biscuits that she paused and frowned.

She had seen Tom on magazines before, especially after the whole Taylor Swift situation, but seeing herself and him on them seemed to make her brain incapable of processing it. On the front cover of three different magazines, there were photos of her and Tom on their arrival to Rome, as well as a comparative picture with him there with Taylor, and a few headlines that made her brow raised. Shaking her head, she turned slightly only to see a women flicking through one of the magazines only to stop at the page of her and Tom, the woman reading ardently what few lines that were there before noticing Danielle next to her.

‘My daughter is stone mad about him, he’s not bad to look at. Could do with a shave though.’

‘I prefer a beard, personally.’

‘Well, his girlfriend doesn’t seem to mind. Poor Amanda was gutted to see him with someone, as though she’ll ever even meet him.’ The woman rolled her eyes. ‘She seems too down to Earth for all that madness, look at that outfit, she’s not trying to show off her knickers like half of them.’

‘I don’t blame her.’ Danielle smiled before going to get the biscuits, laughing to herself. As she grabbed Tom’s favourites she fell into fresh giggles and forced herself to breathe deep before laughing again. When she got to the checkout, the girl behind the counter was looking at her oddly, which did little to help Danielle’s giggles. She barely uttered out thank you as she took her change, noting the girl checking her hand. Danielle, unable to stop herself, turned over her hand and gave a pretend saddened face before thanking the girl again and walking off, another checkout girl nearby laughing loudly as she did, also saying “I told you it was her” as she did so.

Danielle was still laughing when she parked the car in the driveway and collected the bags of shopping and heading into the house. She was about to see where Tom was to tell him her funny story when she heard him speaking on the phone.

‘So nothing too mad then? No, I told you I wasn’t going to propose. No, she loved it. She needed the break, work has been hard on her recently.’ Danielle closed the door gently and went to make her way into the kitchen quietly so not to startle Tom and interrupt his call. ‘No, I haven’t asked her.’ Danielle paused for a moment. ‘She could tell I wanted to ask her something and I froze.’ She frowned at his words, remember the odd look he was giving her and her questioning it before he dismissed it. ‘Because she will say no and everything will become awkward and it could very well destroy everything.’ Danielle felt odd about what Tom was saying, not sure what he was wanting to ask her. ‘She actually allowed me to embrace her and she kissed me, in public, I am not risking all that. I….I can’t. If she said no and felt as though I was pressuring her and...no, it’s not worth it. I know I do, but not at the cost of her.’

Deciding not to let the conversation continue without Tom knowing she was there, Danielle inhaled deeply and used her elbow to open the door. Tom swung around, clearly startled by her appearance. She gave an attempt at a smile as Tom ran his hand through his hair before clearing his throat.

‘Luke, I need to go, Danielle is back and I need to help her get sorted here. I’ll talk to you more tomorrow. Yes, I will send back the paperwork to them as well. Bye.’ Tom hung up the phone and rushed over to Danielle. ‘Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you were getting everything.’ He smiled as he brought the meat to the fridge. ‘Was there anything of note in the village?’

‘No, here?’ Danielle asked, wondering if Tom would think to mention the earlier content of his call.

‘Nothing much. Luke rang, as you gathered, letting me know that there was a few pictures and articles, nothing of note.’

‘We are on the front page of a few magazines.’ Tom stared silently at her. ‘There are a few of the weekly trash ones with the pictures of us in Rome on them. Going by the publishing dates, if there is any of us elsewhere, they will happen in the next issue.’ She did not even look at him as she put the rice and other foods in the cupboard.

‘Are you alright?’

‘Fine, you?’

‘Fine.’ Tom eyed her cautiously. ‘Are you mad?’

‘About what, the magazines?’ He nodded. ‘Not at all, I couldn’t give a fuck about them, I thought it was funny if I’m honest. I giggled the whole way around Tesco’s and the entire journey home about it actually.’ She stated as she all but threw the groceries away. ‘I am going to get changed. Are we both walking the dogs or am I going alone?’

Tom could not help but notice her harsh manner. ‘I thought we were both going?’

‘Well, we better get started so, I need to get an early dinner as I have to be up at stupid o’clock to get the half six flight.’ She left the room and a baffled Tom behind her.

For the whole of the walk, though Danielle ensured she kept her tone light and spoke casually, Tom did not reveal anything of the conversation that concerned her with Luke, upsetting her slightly.

He tried to suggest ordering something or going out to dinner since they were tired out after their holiday and Danielle was up so early, but she insisted on cooking, making sure both their steaks were done as they liked them and putting together a delicious dinner to go with them.

‘Thank you, Elle, that was incredible.’ Tom kissed her cheek as she soaked the dish she had put the roast potatoes in. ‘I am going to miss you terribly.’

‘Yes, it is odd after so long of both of us in the house to be apart again, but we are well able for it.’ Danielle smiled. ‘Unless we don’t count my hell hours.’

‘How will Safeguard do without you around for two weeks?’

‘Well, I will have a shit-tonne to do again on my return, obviously, but for the most part, I am needed to ensure the set is ready but that is going to be mostly before shooting, I can deal with a lot of the paperwork while on site, so I will be fine, just checking over everything when I...stop that.’ She gently pushed Tom, who was snaking his hands down her sides. ‘You are insatiable.’ His lips pressed against her skin. ‘The dogs are looking at us.’

‘So?’

‘Tom, I am not a prude, you know that but we are not going any further in front of our pets, that is not something I am into.’ She nudged him again.

‘Then leave the dishes and get away from the dogs.’

‘I need to tidy and pack.’

Tom groaned. ‘Spoilsport.’

‘Finish these and let the adult get her work done.’ She scoffed, drying her hands and tossing the tea towel at him before leaving the room.

When Tom joined her upstairs half an hour later, Danielle had a fresh bag packed and everything she needed ready. ‘I will bring that down for you.’

‘You’re fine. I am going to get a cab in the morning, let you sleep in.’

‘What? No, I will drop you.’

‘You don’t have to, I’m better off getting there myself.’

‘Elle, are you alright, you have been bothered since coming back from the shops?’

‘I’m fine, I just don’t want you having to get up early for no good reason.’

‘Seeing you off is not “no good reason”.’

‘Are you that desperate to get rid of me?’ She joked, putting her arms around him. ‘Tom, I mean it, nothing happened when I was out today, well, it did, but positive, I was actually in a great mood from it all.’

‘But you seem …’

‘Don’t go looking for issues when there are none,’ She warned, throwing a pair of folded clean socks at him. ‘I am trying to get myself ready for two weeks of hard work after a fortnight of shit, then a nice break, it’s a lot to organise in my head.’ She explained.

‘I’m sorry, I just don’t want something like magazines coming between us, I don’t want to lose you to something so inconsequential.’

‘Do you think you will?’

‘No, or I hope I don’t, but the way you kissed me, you actually leant up and kissed me, in front of others, in full view of everyone...I…’ There was some emotion in his face that Danielle found difficult to place, it was almost like happy disbelief. ‘I love you, so much. And the idea that we are developing this much...You have no idea how incredibly happy I am, Elle.’ She could not help but smile as he looked at her adoringly. ‘I love this, I love you and I love us.’

‘Tom, you are too loving, do you know that?’ She smiled. ‘I love you too.’ She leant up and kissed him. ‘But no matter what, I am not going to run off over something small, I promise, so don’t ever feel you can’t talk to me about certain things that are bothering you, okay?’

Tom’s brows knitted together slightly before he nodded. ‘I know.’ He kissed her and pulled her in against him, but said nothing else on the matter, causing Danielle to wonder again as to what it was he was referencing in that phone call.

[skyblue-369]

We are so many on this world, but everybody starts their path here in exact the same way, don't they?

Somehow, that was not my case because I shared my birth with only 42 other children.

On The Twelfth Hour Of The First Day Of October 1989, Forty Three Women Around The World Gave Birth. This Was Unusual Only In The Fact That None Of The Women Had Been Pregnant When The Day First Began.

One of those unfortunate ladies was my mother. I don't know much about her. Just that she happened to pass by a very calm city in Northern Italy when I burst in her life. She didn't even have the time to look at me in the eyes that she decided to leave me by the door of a catholic orphanage. I still don't understand the reason why she didn't at least try to raise me by herself, but it's better like this. I must have caused her a hard trauma, and in addition we would have both lived a sad existence knowing that she didn't want me in the first place.

Anyway, being a religious building, there were nuns to run it. They welcomed me with open arms and named me Maria, even though they saw right away what I was capable of.

They always used to tell me how everytime I cried they had to wear gloves to hold me up because I would cover their hands in musk. Or wait, wait, wait! Also that I created little flower patterns on most of the hall floors when I moved my first steps. Yeah, I can grow plants by the way, but let's move on!

I brought some troubles with me, but they couldn't see a monster through this little girl's laughter. I was just another God's gift that needed care and protection. Actually, precisely because I was special, I was the one to receive it the most.

Besides the common bedroom, I had a space all for myself to practice in. Someone would expect some private garden, maybe a backyard. Now that I think of it, mine looked kinda like a cage, a room whose floor was covered in a thick layer of soil. Only the roof was replaced with a glass one in order to give me access to sunlight. I was supervised for all of my "playtime", when I mostly grew food for our supplies. No high plants were allowed except for fruit trees. Sometimes they'd let me recreate some pictures from my botany books, nothing more. Those brick walls made me frustrated, but I was too superficial at the time to understand they wanted to prevent me from escaping.

People continued to reassure me that I was doing good and that everyone relied on me to survive. They drowned my curiosity with privileges such as eating sweets more often than the others, having a higher education or receiving better gifts at Christmas. I cannot say I was living in luxury, but the nuns did their bests to make me live happily.

On the other side, the only thing they couldn't replace was my lack of affection.

The nuns treated me too well, but the other kids didn't seem happy about it.

It's insane that we've lived under the same roof for so many years, but we felt like acquaintances to each other. Although there was tension between us, they were never mean to me. Or maybe they were just gossiping when no one was watching. As a kid, I didn't understand how true friends are supposed to behave towards you. However, I knew that in friendship there should be a sort of feeling of comfort when staying together, and well, we didn't have it.

At the beginning, I was trying too hard to gain their trust, but then I started repeating to myself "I'm way better than everybody here. I could grow a whole forest in less than a minute if I wanted to. Who needs them? I'll have crowds cheering me one day."

...weird flex but okay

Unfortunately, I hoped to escape my very first failure by finding a family. I insisted and I've had some meetings with nice couples. Even if I couldn't show my powers, I was flawless. Aaand I received total rejection.

Probably it was all just a set up. For once, I envied the other children. Who wouldn't in my position? I had so much love to give and I would have been a good daughter! What have I possibly done wrong? I remember crying on the floor of my private room a few times and getting surrounded by weeds when I got up.

Time passed by and I ended up being eleven and without a family.

I used to dream about moving to the Amazon forest to look for a new species of flower. Maybe I would have found a guy who could talk to animals, who knows?

And then, I fell on a banana peel and slid into a series of unlucky events.

One day, we were having lunch and a silly argument came in. I'm still a teenager, it should be pretty normal at my age, shouldn'it? These two kids were mocking me and they were getting really heavy on me. I wasn't used to insults. Moreover, those words looked more and more like pieces of a bigger truth to me, so much that I hurt myself by pushing my hands over my ears. However, it was a single phrase that started it all.

"How can you even think that someone would love a narcissistic freak like you?"

I remember falling on my knees and closing my eyes, hands still on my ears. I just wanted silence, just for a moment. And I had it, indeed. It's only that when I opened my eyes, I saw them. The boys were lifeless, speared by some big branches all covered in blood. Branches that I made. It was my fault. It was my fault.

I needed to be calmed by those I thought as my loved ones, but I just receieved a shocked stare by every single nun. Some were standing still, while others were taking the children away.

"I can't stay here..." my body finally responded and I started running away. I restrained myself from throwing up. I went out and while I was climbing over the gate my left leg got stuck into a tube full of screws. I took it out right away without caring about my open wounds or how much they were making me suffer. I had to go on, I didn't even know where. I was finally visiting the world I wanted to see so desperately and I didn't even realise it. Eventually, I got to the harbour and both the stress and the seagulls put me to sleep in a ship container.

When I woke up, I didn't expect to be on the other side of the world. A bunch of sailors had brought me to the hospital of a little mountain town in the States called Anise Peak. When the nurse spoke English to me I freaked out. Luckily, I had taken some English classes at the orphanage and I could get away with it. Of course I ran away. They would have called the police and have sent me back to where I was from. I was wandering again, this time in the woods that surrounds the city. I was feeling completely lost. The single thought of the horror I had just committed made me impossible to use my powers in the future, so my chances of dying were higher. Nevertheless, something made me change my mind. Maybe God wanted me to stay longer and decided to bring me to a waterfall. I was taking a cold shower when I slipped on a door of leaves and saw that there was a hidden cave behind the waterfall. Eventually, it became my shelter. I've lived in here for almost three years now. How did I make it?

Well, thanks to my abilities I don't really need money for food. But after a while, when I found out that I couldn't live only on vegetables and fruit, I had to make up something. Almost outside the city old Damien has a supermarket, who unfortunately had a big problem at getting fresh veggies in such a cold area. And here it comes a farmer who lives nearby and is always busy, so sends his daughter to offer the man his services. Every two weeks I magically give him tons of goods in exchange of a little pay and some products such as bread or soap. I know it's not legal at all, but people are simple here and Damien was making a lot of money anyway. For me, it's tiring because I feel dizzy after I grow plants for a long period and because of transport, but at least I could live decently. The problem is that I had to be subtle to people's eyes. At night I have to put out the fire, or if I have to go out aside from work hours I have to climb trees and walk very high. I learned with time, and my scars prove it. Or maybe I can't walk around the town because everyone would recognise a new face.

I cannot call this "life" or "home", but it's fine at the moment. I get lonely from time to time, but I can always spy on families that come here camping. It's not that weird and it improves my language skills.

Oh my! Are those...gunshots? From the woods? What the hell is happening? It's better if I go check...

If you want to know more, go check:

[elizabethrobertajones]

14x05 watching notes

filed under: episodes that demand a written apology from the writer

Morning, I opened the episode to check it worked and the first thing on screen was dead Maggie, so I guess skip the preamble, let's get rid of that D:

Meredith is going to look after Maggie. Who so far this season has just been the human representation of the :o emoji

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Er, she's not going to look after us, after the THEN card we abruptly drop into Dean having his beach retirement chat with Sam

A lingering reminder of how Jack would help - if he had his powers - but Sam asks "then what would we do" and cut to Dean being Michaeled. At this point I can't tell if we need to remember 13x23 for Reasons or if they just don't trust us to remember the recent history of the show at all and are catching up people who might have dropped by to see how their favourite guest star, Maggie, is doing.

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I mean I love her but she isn't the headliner normally :P

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OH GOODNESS SHE'S THE COLD OPEN GIRL. Maggieee no. She looks so scared. Why are they sending her hunting on her own??? She is a smol scared bean who was not prepared for the apocalypse and surely must be able to find other off-the-radar jobs for a person from another universe in this world that don't involve throwing herself at monsters!

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She's wearing pink trousers for a stealth mission at night. She makes Sam's orange jacket look like camo

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Also she's recording herself... Maggie... What are you doing........ hon......................

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I have adopted her, but it turns out I have another stupid child among my many, many stupid children and just once I wish they didn't turn out like this :P

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So she's like, attached a go pro to herself to record her hunt for... training purposes? reporting back to Chief? because she's become an adrenaline junkie after all the time she was nearly eaten by supervampires?

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MAGGIE

Gad dangit

He was slow moving and you heard him behind you. Swing first, ask questions later, when it's a growling noise in a dark crypt.

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Has anyone been counting the apocalypse world peeps because I'm pretty sure they're relying on us not to recognise them because they're a crowd. At this point we almost certainly have like 50+ distinct individuals instead of the 25 they purportedly rescued.

I say this because I feel like some of the white guys from the original batch appear to have metamorphosed into a more diverse group

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Sammy setting homework.

Sorry, not Sammy. The Boss.

Dean comes in to observe class.

Sam immediately sheds all his confidence and goes back to being Sammy. He does seem to have a slight layer of scruff more, or maybe it was just that he was looking particularly clean-shaven last episode out of shock

Dean offers to get him a camp counsellor whistle, and Sam gets even more awkward about hunter check ins. I can see this feeding itself here, with Sam blustering and getting weird about his position of authority in front of Dean, and Dean who is both latching on in a brotherly way, and lashing out in a recently emotionally maimed Dean way, but can't yell at the apocalypse peeps they rescued and graciously allowed to stay because, you know, Michael destroyed their world, so taking it all out on Sam... Unfortunately, Dean being the wounded, irrational party, it's down to him to realise he's being a lil too harsh on Sam OR Sam to stop rising to the bait.

In this case, I would say the ball is firmly in Sam's court, not because he's at any particular fault for instinctively reacting like the needled little brother when big bro wanders in snarking at his attempts to do his job, but because he is the one behaving like the adult already in this scenario when he's facing the AU peeps and being The Chief in a natural way where he's thriving in the environment, and crumpling immediately in the face of this one random element is a clear part of his growth and maturity arc. As it is he's feeding Dean's reaction a LOT by getting embarrassed and changing his behaviour and not standing his ground and continuing to act like a mature adult, and giving Dean the little brother teasing opening he feeds off in the dynamic.

In other scenarios this could flip with Sam doing his best and Dean being a dick who's seeking an opening and trying to get Sam to crack and in that case it would be all on him to correct his behaviour, but in this case, I'm leaning Sam being the problem despite the appearance, because he crumpled just to hear Dean coming up the steps, never mind how it went from there. He's acting ashamed of being the leader, because he knows it's emotionally infringing on Dean territory, as he sees Dean as a natural and more rightful leader, and doesn't recognise his own strengths and skills being applied in spades here; his self-confidence immediately is put under the microscope when he knows Dean is there, and it topples his precarious house of cards of self confidence.

He has also put himself in a position of managing Dean, coming in last episode all, alright champ how's it going? and had a success by a country mile with getting Dean to leave his room, open up, and have some fun, and that's not even comparing it to the same time last season when in 13x05 he completely failed at the same task. He has been working gently on Dean to help him, but he can't when it comes to getting Dean used to having the AU peeps around and accepting Sam's new job there, if Sam acts like it's something to be ashamed of and is too horrified by usurping Dean to focus on letting his instincts talk and continuing to blatantly be a wonderful leader.

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These AU peeps are also seeing their venerated war hero general just crumple into an insecure mess as soon as his brother walks into the room >.>

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Sam gets coffee, turns into coffee!Sam (Lizbob's on the record favourite character in the entire show), finally snaps back at Dean about how many hunters he's keeping track of right now when Dean stops needling in a funny way and asks about Sam's health - of course, now it's all built up into Dean bothering Sam so instead of being a nice request, Sam snaps.

It's possible that while Sam now runs the hunters, delegating to Mary and AUBobby and even Dean if he'll accept it, to help keep track etc, will really benefit in the long run.

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Slick way to work where Cas and Jack are into the same breath as where Mary and Bobby are - rugarou, which is code for off screen case - and throw it all out there as plot and ongoing character work AND the requisite where is Cas comment to keep fandom happy.

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God, I haven't even gotten around to what I meant to say immediately that Sam dropped down into his codependency seat at the table and Dean is unintentionally mirroring 9x13's final scene of all the many times they've been around this block - off the top of my head but as someone who has been keeping a very close eye for a very long time, I can't think of another significant instance where Sam was sitting and Dean was standing while it got heated.

Of course 9x13 was working very hard to show their divisions, while of course here Sam is just sitting in his Dean Is Upsetting Me chair and Dean's not sitting at the table which just means not engaging with Sam on his level in a very literal as well as metaphorical way - in character, that's a body language dissonance as well as making Sam look up at him. In staging terms, it carries the weight of years of directorial and acting decisions about how to portray the brothers in crisis that I've been noting in case of a pattern.

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"Yeah, but a war isn't hunting" good grief Sam is making their entire lives sound even worse than ever given they grew up in this and now he's listing off all the stuff they need from the perspective of being the Bobby. I mean, when they say they were raised like soldiers, they're adding in the fact they do zillions of almost completely unsupported 2 man raids into hostile territory with limited gear or recon. The recap at the start, showing them going in to fight the werewolves with an angel and a nephilim on their side, was an easy hunt for a reason and not just because there were 4 of them :P Without that, no matter how many hunters they accumulate, it's always looked like a losing battle because many of these things you'd want to call the national guard on if civilians could be alerted to the danger.

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See, Dean is acting needle-y but as soon as Sam gets an unnerving alert on his phone he's concerned and asks who it is - remember last episode where he was like don't know don't care about the guy Sam was Bobbying from the car? - and when he says "maggie" ... well, they're all clearly protective of her in particular D:

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Oh good, the body cams thing was a Sam innovation and therefore a good idea and we can pat his head for it

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Bobby never had that and I bet he'd have LOVED to keep track of his peeps that way.

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The other hunters meet up on the last thursday of the month to watch the highlight reel from Garth Cam, BYOB, popcorn provided

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Nyooom

This shot should win awards for the fuckin horrifying perspective that I, as a non-mountain-dweller, can barely comprehend that it looks like the sky but then you keep on looking up and there's trees in there. Is this something people in big countries are used to? I mean I've seen my share of mountains in Scotland and they're way too cramped to fake you out like that.

You have to understand that in my town, wedged between two cliffy cliffs, the entire old town is like 500ft wide at best before more cliff. There's only 2 directions - up and towards the sea :P  You don't need fancy camera tricks to contain everything... I'm getting agoraphobia just looking at this. I mean I don't think it's intended to cause existential horror but mission accomplished.

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Dean getting morbid talking about how having a private cemetery would be nice. I mean, they practically need one behind the Bunker after all this time, wherever the final resting place is of at least Kevin and Charlie's bodies as well as anyone else who died in and around there who wasn't dumped in the sewer like Ketch was :')

During day this place isn't half bad, with its whimsical overgrown look, the slanting fence of the bridge to cross to get there, the jungle closing in around the little plot...

But remember, Dean. Beach holiday. Eyes on the prize, man. You and the rest don't get to hang out behind the Bunker for eternity at least until you're all old and earned it.

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Dean defends knowing what a walker from the Walking Dean is... in 12x15 he was playing with a Negan bat which I assume he still has somewhere, washed off and placed in the armoury :P Sam is at least being a bit more authoritative here in the sense of reeling off info as the Chief in charge of Maggie's fate and knowing her mission etc...

Honestly this makes me feel like the dynamic of Dean drives, Sam rides shotgun can mature too, in the sense that Dean is no longer taking control from Sam - back in season 10 that was very heavily used as part of their toxic dynamic and there's definitely shades of season 10 dynamics on the chopping block around these parts - because Sam needs all the extra time to manage his army from the road, with his hands free to check the phone and read up on everything, while Dean is free to drive and be Dean.

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Sam being all I FAILED SHE IS DEAD at every turn and Dean being all "hey check it out, drag marks! :D" "but no blood!!! :D :D :D"

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As a student of analaysisisign things I have no idea what was just implied by Sam and Dean being called back to the surface followed by the sound effect of spooky cold breath, a wonky focus on a statue of a bearded dude and smol cherub, and then being interrupted by a 1900s gardener.

Apron plus hat seems like Michael coding but god knows what it means.

I bet they're actually talking to a ghost but he's so busy just defending the ancestral land that he's passing as a real alive person and it's one of those completely harmless cases where the ghost just lurks around protecting the land, doesn't go vengeful, and wards off people who hang out there... Not that he had much luck with the drunk teens.

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1900s gardener stands outside, unable to go into the house, surveying it with a weary eye.

The garden is completely and utterly overgrown, almost like no one has gardened it for 100 years, even though there appears to be a gardener on the property.

*rubs chin*

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1900s gardener gives them one last suspicious look before wandering back to work, significantly enough that we see it with a whole separate shot

what is his deal

why is he dressed like that

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Does Meredith feel guilty for MURDERING JOSHUA and side note, can we really trust that it was him who got murdered. Maybe he's in retirement dressed in an olde timey shirt and waving antique gardening implements at Sam and Dean for kicks.

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Considering they improv'd the line about the HPS it's very lucky that Mobby came up with that line - I guess showing how they think alike and all

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"Just wish you'd checked in with the main office," Sam bobs his head, like, "ME", "before you came out here..."

Yeah, here's the Sam and AUBobby leadership conflict I was hoping for :P

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Mary asks for a mo and shepherds Sam out in particular, leaving AUBobby and Dean to handle the architect digest subscriber. She's all momsy with her handling of him, and Dean and AUBobby are left to do the awkward small talk - we know AUBobby really doesn't have it as his strong suite, even though it was Bobby's, like in 6x21 where he was the only one to ever say sorry about your mom to the guy. It also means they have to do the blathering while trying to work out any supernatural history on the property in character, while Mary and Sam are designating themselves the ones who can get to the heart of the problem and handle it like the profession adults. I like the implicit trust/respect bond that gives here.

I mean she has it with Dean too I would think but she's spent more time with Sam lately and it's important now to show she's grown such a bond with Sam, as it's been 2 whole years of her being back before they could begin to properly bond due to various issues.

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"It was her first solo hunt and she was nervous" listen Sam and Dean are like 1000 pounds of muscle and "fuck you apocalypse" experience and they hunt together. Maggie was smol and wore pink trousers.

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Is. Is smol.

God. I'm turning into Sam.

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Lol conspicuous blood transfusion bags. Nice gig, to drain peeps and get a nurse to apply the blood directly to you. Is he a vampire with an olde timey set up?

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Maggiieeee

stealing her boots is just mean.

Does she have pink plaid as well as pink trousers?

My god how did they let her out of the house? She's too cute and innocent for this world.

Or her previous world.

Can we shunt her along one more world to one which doesn't have this much monster trouble even, as she's clearly still not found the AU which suits her best.

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Heee Dean knocking the mantelpiece and saying the house has "good bones" like he's an expert on houses

The question is, has he watched a lot of junk reality TV about house refurbishment, or is he just faking on the fly

I have not watched enough aforementioned junk TV to call this one

-

Oh, nope, the daughter validates it by saying her grandpa used to say it. Dean has watched enough TV to pass

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Ooooh AUBobby having a go at Sam for his shoddy leadership of letting Maggie come here when she had no idea what was up.

I'm guessing the help over text messaging may have been a bit more backseat hunting from AUBobby, but he didn't try to STOP Maggie, or tell her to wait while he and Mary dashed up here.

In any case, here's the conflict of leadership I've been waiting for since before the season began :') Unfortunately, Sam shaved off his beard before going toe to toe with AUBobby, so he takes the first round by default of bristliness, as Sam ceded some portion of control back to Dean on Dean's return and this has made him weird and jumpy about acting like the chief in front of his peeps, and now AUBobby's taking the opening.

-

He has such a power stance that Bobby never had

Shoulders back, beard out

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Dean defends Sam like when is anyone ready to hunt, because from their perspective of course they were as smol-seeming as Maggie and CONSIDERABLY younger when they were plunged into hunting. She's a grown adult! She can handle it! (she may or may not be a mirror to Jack, who is consumptive, and therefore betraying some sort of inherent unreadiness to hunt and a requirement that the smols among you be protected rather than forced to grow up too young and go hunting as a rite of passage, just as Sam and Dean were given their first beers barely in single digits by gnarly hunters)

"A real leader would have seen that a mile away" Yeah AUBobby is too used to leading his peeps - perhaps he liked a semi retirement where Sam was the leader and the world seemed safer and they could hunt like the old days...

-

Mary mediates, splitting up the team in the only way that makes sense, hoping that Dean can defend Sam in absentia (and thus be forced to confront that Sam IS a good and thoughtful leader and to stop mocking him and start defending him) and she can comfort Sam and build him back up as the Chief.

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Dean goes on such a face journey about this whole thing, from feeling weird about AUBobby to bad about what's going on with Sam to just worried about Maggie and very much taking on that blame for sending a smol out into the field, especially as he has recused himself from responsibility to these people - while fairly taking a mental health break from the frontline as well as competing with how Sam already got there... Anyway that was like 18 distinct facial expressions each with a story and it's too early in the morning... I JUST got my cup of tea and it's still too hot to drink so Jensen's defeated me this round

-

Sam gets comforted by another trenchcoated figure

"Don't listen to Bobby" "maybe he's right" shush.

"THIS IS WHAT HE WAS BORN TO DO"

ILY Mary. She's coming in fresh on adult!Sam, she doesn't even have the feelings about him as she does to smol scared 4 year old boy Dean, especially if we account for postpartum depression making it hard for her to bond with him as per the entire metaphorical structure of the show from episode one to present. Now she's getting to spend time with him - and especially as her only significant time with him BEFORE this was 12x14 aka Bobo's ode to Sam's leadership round 1... Yeah, she sees Sam as this giant gangly admirable leader guy she happens to have birthed.

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"Bobby can't see that... not the only thing he's been missing lately."

Good grief, Mary in the trenchcoat has been making the eyes at AUBobby all Michael-hatted up and being ignored and rebuffed from her sparkling heart eyes. I wonder what this is a metaphor for, Ms Meredith Mixtape "know who you love" Glynn.

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Also, Mary feeling comfortable to innuendo her crush on AUBobby to Sam - it really is an adult relationship and respect and emotional trust that I feel never in a million years could just pop up between her and Dean.

Oh boy, this scene is still going.

*Hides behind the secondhand embarrassment cushion* Sam goes there, like, not going to mention it but you - he sounds less bumbling than he has at other points... Sam's awkwardness factor can shoot through the roof to the point where in 3x04 where he attacks those guys and then is like "have a nice day" when they're not demons? I kinda want to reach through the screen and strangle him with my bare hands before he does it just to spare myself seeing it. Also the gifset of that has been on my dash all week, and it predisposes me to loathe Sam's awkwardness. Please god let us get through this in one piece.

Mary is too busy being wistful to realise her son is an awkward bumbling moose who is all misplaced stammering words and wonky legs spinning for traction when he's out of his depth.

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Aww now Mary is getting to talk about her deal... She thought she had something good going with AUBobby but since they've been back he's been "hunting all the time and won't take a break not even for a second" - the ole bury yourself in hunting to avoid facing trauma or feelings thing. Of course AUBobby may be struggling with the weight of the world he left behind, the people who he couldn't save there and not knowing what has happened to them. There's a lot to unpack with him that hasn't been explored on screen and a lot of it is casting him as behaving in a Dean-like way, while Mary is the "I'll just wait here then" to his coping mechanisms.

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"There's something on his mind, and he doesn't want to talk about it"

Aforementioned trauma, OR a pun about him being possessed by Michael

yeah I'm harping on it as a half-joke half-kinda want to have it on the record in case I'm right :P

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"Bobby's not open like your dad"

Mary, you do realise how that sounds to literally everyone else, right? We KNOW you're practically from a 3rd AU aka the past where John was practically the mirror AU to his future self

Unfortunately, Mary is the only person in the room who ever has that particular story, which sucks for her

-

Anyway Meredith has reached some sort of characterising level with these people that I am just in pure awe of

-

"Not like your dad when I knew him"

"Bobby's got walls. Big ones"

I do think it's funny that Mary has essentially ended up crushing on a man who is a John-like parallel to the anti-John mirror that Bobby was, who of course had his own Karen who he was a different person with, who was a Mary mirror, and .... yeah

it's an interdimensional timetravelling wife swap

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It makes Destiel look straightforward

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Part of Meredith's skill here is not just accounting for every angle, but also juggling this nonsense

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Anyway Mary doubting she can get through AUBobby's walls and be the person who has to do the emotional labour to get the guy she wants - if she's ready to put herself out there again

this is NOT a conversation to have with Dean in a million years. Even Sam takes a mo

"I shouldn't be talking to you about this!" she giggles and she and Sam smile and set off again, all touchy feely.

Sweet.

-

Anyway there's another dynamic in these woods.

"You think I was too hard on your brother back there." "He's doing his best. He's doing better than his best." Funny way to phrase it but yeah, Dean can see Sam's levelled up and his new best is this new levels of responsibility and good leadership overall.

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LOL at how terse that conversation was. Dean points out that Sam could do with a hand running things, makes fun of the beard, no offence, and cut back to Sam and Mary

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Sam explains Karen to Mary, to give her an idea of what might be AUBobby's backstory too.

"he never had any children?" "no"

Scuse me, that's the line that makes me BAWL every time I watch it. HE DID SO, YOU FOOL. IT WAS YOU AND YOUR UNGRATEFUL BROTHER

I am writing a letter of complaint to the management

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"Whatever your Bobby" - oh dear, AUBobby is now "your" Bobby, like, they found him first but he's now Mary's :p

Sam is now full on giving Mary relationship advice about how it's worth it to move past those walls and give him a go if she really cares about him.

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Has he ever had this chat with Cas, or is this just practice

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"Cas, wait, I really appreciate you came to me with this but I am getting killer deja vu for a second here..."

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Mary finds a disturbing firepit, Dean finds a creepy hunting cabin. This is about to be a barrel of fun

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AUBobby... Don't just run off. Poke Dean and POINT AT THE THING YOU'RE FOLLOWING

... Dean, also, have some awareness in your peripheral that AUBobby just legged it

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Again, way more athletic than our Bobby was

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That's a human hand

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Are those real IDs or hunter IDs

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Oh it all came from one wallet, with the same pic on them all, so yes.

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"Not one of ours" but part of the wider network/family nonetheless. His bearded look recalls Asa Fox, and there's the unspoken discussion again about sharing resources, if ALL hunters shouldn't be pulled into their network and the word spread that the Bunker is at least a resource, that Sam is there to be the hub even if they aren't all part of the centralised AU hunter squad, and Sam starts Bobbying in earnest for this world as a whole.

Of course they'd never have sent Maggie somewhere that a seasoned hunter had already disappeared.

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Dean finally realises AUBobby is gone, and immediately gets jumped, with rather less warning than Maggie had.

I like how the man has had time to dress up in a suit from his sick bed, if indeed that is the case

monsters in suits

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Well that's new

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Well in 13x14 Meredith wrote Gog n Magog who were a fake out full of sand... Now this monster is a fake out full of ash?

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Cut to: Old man still in his hospital bed, definitely not attacking people in the flesh

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Oh dear, his daughter hearing something in the house while earnestly getting on with dealing with his estate makes me pretty sure she's not in on anything and she shouted them out of the house in genuine grief-stress, which I already wasn't particularly doubting.

-

The ole dragging chains upstairs ghost trick, which I honestly wish I could say I have never heard for myself but the ghost next door is not my problem, Victorian walls keep them contained, and honestly if you've been following the saga on random incidental comments on my blog I'm really only inclined to believe in ghosts for the humorous fake hysteria of a moment's entertainment but the odd noises next door late at night really have been going on long enough and yesterday some folk moved in so, you know, first act of a horror movie setting up mere feet away from me, the disinterested neighbour scowling at all the evil poured into the walls of that house by careless landlords and human suffering I witnessed firsthand caused by it >.> Anyway. Unlike this woman I stayed right in this spot instead of wandering around trying to work out where that noise was coming from, because I'm in the house with the wacky backstory where weed dealers sawed through the support beam in the roof and the front of my room collapsed shortly after we moved in :P

-

I'm sorry, but if a ghost opens a door for you ahead of you in the hall, my advice is not to immediately go up to the door and go in

-

SUPERVAMP IN THE ATTIC

-

She does an admirable duck and cover maneouver, only to realise he hasn't chased her. Huh.

Michael's super vamps are super weird.

-

"You're not crazy" Neil the nurse immediately straightens up and eyeballs Sam a lil harder.

HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

PS where is the ghostly gardener in all this because he wasn't the supervamp so

-

this is like a murder mystery puzzle but all the bits are so utterly wild... Dead hunter, Maggie being drained for the "stroke" victim who is also attacking people in a suit while made of ash... supervamp in the attic who won't follow her out of the room she found him in

I mean in all this has no one gone back up to the attic where a supervamp is apparently just LIVING?

He's currently just chilling there while they have this conversation

he's just, like... waiting for them????

-

Dean walks in mid-crisis "You hunt monsters?!" "oh good you told them" He does like when things are all quick and easy and right to the point.

Last episode he cheerfully told Dirk that hatchetman Jordan was coming for them, while Sam blustered over telling Sam even when the EMF was SCREAMING that there was a ghost right in the room with them and the display cases were freezing over.

With Mary's influence at least, Sam is happy to get into telling the full story

-

"Wait time out, there's a dead body on our property?"

THERE IS A SUPERVAMPIRE IN YOUR ATTIC

BIGGER PROBLEMS

-

Dean is entirely brushed down... Like... He must have been brushing ghost ash off of himself all the way back to the house.

-

Sam invokes 8x08 right after I was talking about Fred. Dangit, Glynn.

I feel like Sam is sort of making a jump here, but on the other hand the house isn't under ghostly or vampiric shutdown. The father is here, unconscious, so perhaps projecting and I guess if Sam is wondering how he could be doing it, then astral projections may make sense to some degree... Working out how it all ties together is going to be another huge step though. I know the sell for this episode was partially nightmares and dreams, and we have Maggie in a djinn-like trap and the old man both a sleeping Bobby from 3x10 and also a possible Fred Jones projecting it... The supervamps are something that Dean would have brought here, and "walkers" from the Walking Dead is something the boys could have brought. Which means the other hunter could have been murdered by his own trauma... idk. Why am I trying to piece it together now?

watch the episode, lizzy

-

LOL the daughter just reeling off her dad's "workaholic with textbook narcissistic tendencies" while also herself clearly being the offspring of such a person (is the manifestation of her dad her own trauma?) and hey no doubt that description of the father might come to bear on some of the father/power figures in the episode. Definitely not what Sam is though he's among the mix - perhaps a dark warning of a guy who works himself to death like this and becomes entirely self-absorbed in the process, but Sam just took a minute to advise his mom's love life so he's hanging in there with his sense of self for now. In the sense that a dark arc doesn't seem to be looming for him in such a way as red flags literally followed pre-Mark Dean around.

-

Okay took a LOT of me yelling at the screen but they FINALLY realised there's an unresolved vampire in the attic situation and Sam's going up to check

-

Meanwhile Mary has been separated out in this cursed property to have her own side-adventure with AUBobby

-

Lol the daughter downs some anti-anxiety medication with whisky while Dean sits behind her tuning his knife in a rather grim melody. What a scene.

-

He also has his foot on an armchair like the total troll he was raised as

-

She goes off on one and Dean immediately likes her

"Thanks dad" "no love lost between you two, huh?"

T stands for terrible father

-

"I get it" "not here for a heart to heart" *pause* *launches into a John Winchester Metaphor Of The Hour rant

"But my MOM" *Dean looks up, eyes all vulnerable* "Depression runs in our family" oh booooy

So she found her mom and Dean saw his mom consumed by fire in a way that is still scarring him TO THIS DAY (re: 13x01 nightmare) and this is our first Mary parallel of even a dead mom but one with a personality, and her own problems... Not the temporary insanity of drowning her children like Constance Welch in 1x01, but a woman who had depression and a husband who wasn't there for her... In 14x01 Mary and Sam's discussion revealed how much she was doggy paddling on the surface of all the awful that's happened to her, but this is our real notable parallel to discuss a family history of depression running through Mary's side of the family, which goes not just for Dean (who, like, really has anxiety himself) but also all of Mary's issues, including in 12x21, begging Ketch to kill her at a lowest point before they got her to entirely retreat into herself.

-

Glynn still out for Dean's blood: "the most ridiculous thing is... I worshipped him when I was a kid" Dean is feeling like she took that machete and shoved it in his stomach, as she sits there swigging whiskey and telling him how he feels. "Didn't know any better. He's the only family I have left."

-

"Can I give you a little advice?......... let it go." Oh Dean :')

Emerging from his cocoon, still mostly trapped in there but I think that's a bit of a wing poking through.

"The past is -" *forcefully stops himself from saying "in the past"*

He talks about it as baggage and how every single day he tries to let it go and leave the baggage behind. God he's strong and amazing and working so hard to be the best version of himself.

-

Oh my god who builds the hall up to the attic as part of the crawlspace? This is horrifying on an unnecessary level and I'm writing into that architecture magazine to complain

-

This is the creepiest attic. Who KEEPS these horrifying mementos. Give them to a thrift shop for a hipster to buff up and turn into a conversation piece in their living room.

-

Okay, blood bags and a girl in chains (explains the clinking) are a bit weirder than average.

-

"Sam... it's here" "What?" "It's heeeere" Sam how long have you BEEN in this business?

File this under your panicky first aid to Stuart last episode

-

Sam got ashed just like Dean did. Hm.

It also looked like one of the crazed hunger vamps from apocalypse world more than one of michael's supervamps maybe? It's really hard to keep track of all these :P

-

Oh my god AUBobby has a son, who was murdered by angels. This is terrible D:

Something about the immediate moment of him wandering in... When Bobby went off earlier I was thinking of 7x11 where he saw his younger self. This approach seems almost more like 6x04 and Crowley seeing Gavin for the first time.

Anyway this is of course another way to twist AUBobby around on himself - he managed to get a son, maybe Karen wasn't murdered by a demon, maybe he had a different wife. Whatever it is, it gives us a version of Bobby totally different from ours and also in how he will relate to Sam and Dean - not as the sons he never had, but if he's thinking of young men in the fight...

-

Oh no AUBobby just got stabbed... Er... is this a nightmare or is he just dead?

-

Is AUBobby really going to -

OW

That's more impressive than breaking a crypt scene mental wall to save your loved one. Then again, original flavour Bobby once stabbed himself in the gut to save Dean so I guess he takes a lot of pain for his loved ones, and honestly gathering the strength to pull a knife out... Maaaybe nicer than putting it in???

The fact this is all going down with angel blades as well.

-

I swear to god... Meredith, don't make me watch AUBobby stab a vision of his own son to complete the loop with our Bobby stabbing Karen.

-

"I'm sorry"

*WhOMph grey ash everywhere*

Kinda takes the pure angst out of it at least :P

-

Dean gets a better look. "You're giving him a transfusion?"

Yeah, there's some fuckery at work here, sir. The nurse seems a lot less flustered answering this one which is almost as suspicious as someone who has been non-flustered suddenly getting flustered

-

Dean regrets saying "make me a sandwich before he is done asking. Which is the only reason I forgive that request :P Remember in 1x06 where he was bossing Sam's friend around to get them a beer and a sandwich so they could talk in peace about shifters? God. She KNOWS about monsters it's just that he wants to ask a sensitive question here.

Or punch the nurse in the face over the comatose form of her father.

A nod to her that it's a ruse gets her in on it, though. Female!Dean who is a different mirror than Dirk (though still messed up by a father) gets on his wavelength.

-

AAH He remembered the djinn thing!!! Dean's memory is so good and I love him and he's the best and also Meredith is riffing off 2x20 which is actually illegal, I literally have that written down here in the rules and regulations. Although it does give me my opportunity to remind us all of Dean's long speech about why does he have to be the one to save all these people to John's grave when he was thinking he had to go unwish stuff.

-

Sadly he didn't show up with a knife tipped in lamb's blood so let's see how this goes.

-

Oh my god the djinn's literally thought Dean was Michael the whole time. I have to rewatch now >.>

Well, not now, but.

-

He thought Michael was testing him, and would be back to give him an upgrade, and now he's waxing poetic about the untapped potential of djinn. We're back at season 6, with the hunter compound vs a monster army, except this time the monsters aren't a reaction to the nonsense of angels, they're the direct work of the angel stepping into the place of Eve as the experimenter, his grace vs her black goo. I suppose the weirdness out here is the djinn flexing its muscles with projecting hallucinations.

And I guess that means it hasn't affected Dean except the generic ghost of Mr Comatose over there (apologies to Cas) which I'd assume is part of the generic set up for killing hunters as it was what got Maggie too.

-

The question is, is that Maggie in the attic, or a nightmare for Sam. Wouldn't she be djinned too?

-

"Because of him - because of YOU - I can bring those nightmares into the world" well that's a weighted line >.> Dean's guilt for saying yes,  for these things done with his face. Literally bringing nightmares into the world.

Which does at least confirm that the nightmares so far have been external and we're not IN a dream which has been worrying me.

On the other hand that means AUBobby really did get stabbed that badly.

-

"I highly doubt you have a knife dipped in lamb's blood" I TOLD him.

-

you can't just kneecap the djinn

-

"I am curious, what are YOUR nightmares"

Literally pausing it because Meredith is absolutely horrible and I hate her and she keeps being mean to my boy Dean and I can't handle this and I don't want to know

(I am curious. What ARE his nightmares?)

-

Er excuse me did he just prod his way into finding Michael still in there

Because the other option is that Dean's mind is so utterly scared and scary with all he's been through he literally just out-nightmared a nightmare machine by force of personality.

-

"You don't know my family"

Keep the one liners coming

I'm easily placated by them

-

Cut to: the next morning. He offers his double a chance to get her apology from her father, and books it.

-

Nyoooom back along a CONSIDERABLY less horrifying shot of the same sort of landscape

-

Maggie's back! Everyone loves Maggie. She is the adorable mascot of these people.

Keep the cute pink bunny back at home maybe

Dean gives Sam some affirmation about being the leader of his people.

Now Sam needs to not fold immediately the next time he sees Dean seeing him do something leadery. Deal?

-

Mobby H/C

You know he's vulnerable not because he has his shirt off, but because he has his hat off.

-

These "angel wars" in the AU sound pretty formal.

You know, it would probably be PRETTY HARD to get the average American to fight a war against angels until it's way way waaay too late.

I mean, case in point: we call where they come from, "apocalypse world"

-

"Hunting" "it ends the same." "No." Mary F Winchester puts her foot down. No it ends bloody speeches on her watch! All she has is her optimism but damned if she won't use it!

"I don't know any other way to live" "Then we'll find one"

You are doing a good job and you can save all these dumb guys from themselves.

-

DEAN TALKED TO MAGGIE. HE'S HELPING. HE WENT AND LEADERED HER FOR SAM.

Now have a beer, bro

"She learned from the best, huh? :)"

":)"

-

Awww Mary comes up with AUBobby and they're taking a vacation. Let AUBobby go fishing or something. Good lil Cas parallel Mary fixing her broken warrior with a Donna cabin adventure.

...

Do you not worry a lil about what is out there? Donna comes prepared with a flamethrower.

""relaxing"" """vacation"""

-

Anyway best reason ever given on the entire show for a set of characters not to be in the next couple of episodes, second to "Cas is taking his son out to teach him to hunt some more"

-

Bobby has a clean new formal black mourning cap to deal with fresh memories of Daniel

-

Sam getting the leadership baton from a representative of Bobby who he may see more as Bobby than perhaps he ought. AUBobby says he's not sure he ever had it in him to be a leader, while our Bobby was the undisputed best at what he did and as much as he may have complained, his competency is what Sam is now emulating.

-

Mary being "allowed" to go by Dean. "if you need anything... ANYTHING..." *grabs his shoulder and shakes him* You're starting to turn into the mom in a movie who leaves the kids behind and without supervision they throw a wild party to rebel against you stifling them. SO not the dynamic, but that's the licking a thumb and pressing down a stray bit of hair type momming she's doing all of a sudden.

"Go. Be happy." :')

HUGS FOR THE BOY. That's 2 whole onscreen dean hugs this season.

-

Aww Dean talking to Garth :')

Sam and Dean in synchronicity, talking to ALL their hunter network, not just Jody plus the AU peeps

-

Though. Sam has implemented a buddy system.

Dorky camp counsellor that he is.

-

Dean should get him a ceremonial whistle for Christmas.

-

"Move on from what I - from what we - from what he did"... Dean. Buddy.

Go lie down.

That's some of the most intense blurring of self ever, between Dean's guilt, whatever made the djinn scream in horror to delve his head, and his symbolic blending with Michael as the Michaelsword...

-

"Starting to feel like myself again... almost..." shakes his head and starts heading out to go watch more movies, sad that halloween is passed so no more slashers on every channel

-

"We'll work harder" "how, you sleep 3 hours at night" "then I'll sleep 2" *Dean gives him the NO look*

Well there's a great representation of how their issues mess themselves up and they carve away their sense of self and their health for each other.

-

Seriously. What did the djinn SEE. What nightmares are in my boy's head? Oh god I'm stressed.

-

What happened to the 1900s groundskeeper, Don?

[themyskira]

The Life of Captain Marvel - issue #5

This is it; the final part of this embarrassment of a comic.

Through sheer incompetence, Carol and Marie have set a Kree cyborg assassin on an unsuspecting town.

This issue they face off against the attacker and, through sheer incompetence, are soundly defeated.

Along the way, Margaret Stohl also manages to retcon the 1960s Captain Marvel continuity to give Carol even less agency.

The issue opens on a flashback. Carol is an Air Force Colonel and she’s finally where she always wanted to be: flying spacecraft for NASA. Well, technically she’s there on loaner from the Air Force to test pilot a new prototype, but that doesn’t stop her disobeying direct orders by refusing to slow down, thus jeopardising a billion-dollar spacecraft and everything she’s worked her entire life for.

Carol: You getting this, NASA? NASA officer: Affirmative. Now slow it down, Danvers. Carol: Speed is all relative, Doc. Relative to the Earth, I’m going fast. But relative to… a quasar? I’m wastin’ time. NASA officer: Just don’t waste that billion-dollar prototype. You’re burning up fuel. Carol: Just a little higher. NASA officer: Direct order, Colonel. Carol: Just to the other side of those clouds. NASA officer: Do they not do direct orders where you come from Air Force? Carol: With respect, NASA, I’m a loaner. Until they stamp the paperwork, you’re not even in my chain of command…

(To be fair, Carol is a speed-jockey, and her pushing a prototype beyond the original test parameters is very much in character. But written poorly, a hotshot pilot can become a reckless jerk, and this is how she comes across here. A smug asshole who’s made it to NASA and thinks she can now do whatever the hell she wants.)

Page two delivers an abrupt right turn. A second spacecraft appears in frame; its pilot, we discover, is the NASA officer Carol has been speaking to. He keeps telling her to turn back and Carol becomes increasingly insubordinate and unprofessional, challenging him to race her. Again: this is the only job she’s ever wanted, and now she has it, she’s behaving like a friggin cowboy?!

Fortunately for Carol’s career, it turns out that NASA guy’s commands to slow down were all some convoluted form of flirtation, and he leaps at the challenge.

Later, Carol and NASA guy get cosy with each other on the bonnet of a convertible. And now we learn NASA guy’s name: Doctor Walt Lawson.

Otherwise known as Mar-Vell.

Carol: It’s… it’s like I’m waiting for the universe to show its face… or show up and… I dunno… Mar-Vell: …recognise you? Carol: Sounds crazy, I know. Mar-Vell: No. Sounds familiar.

oh, you fuckers.

I talked a lot in the issue four recap about Carol’s lack of agency in the 1960s Captain Marvel, the series in which she originally (albeit via retcon) got her powers. About how the creators of The Life of Captain Marvel recognise this lack of agency, but attribute it to the maleness of her legacy rather than the fact that her role in her own origin is entirely passive.

Given that, I was surprised Stohl decided to include Mar-Vell in the story at all — she’s been working hard up till this point to distance Carol from him — but not surprised at all by the way these flashbacks play out: with a passive Carol who does nothing to further her own story. A Carol who, in fact, does even less than the Carol Danvers of the original 1960s Captain Marvel comic.

What do I mean by that?

This is Carol in her first-ever comic appearance in Marvel Super-Heroes #13:

Mar-Vell: By the way, Miss Danvers… Just why did you oppose my seeing the robot? Carol: Nothing personal, Dr Lawson… but your dossier is still being examined by my security division! If you must know, you’ve always had a reputation as a recluse… even an eccentric! And frankly, after seeing that strange briefcase of yours…! Well… General Bridges: That’s enough, Miss Danvers! Coming, Lawson? Mar-Vell: Yes, sir! Mar-Vell [thinking]: An eccentric! If only that’s all she suspects! Carol: I’ll see you both later! Carol [thinking]: Somehow I can’t help feeling… that Walter Lawson is hiding something! If he is, I won’t rest till I find out what… and why!

This is characteristic of Carol’s early appearances in Captain Marvel. She distrusts “Walter Lawson” from the start, suspecting him of hiding something even as her superiors welcome him, and she goes to great lengths to try and uncover his true identity and intentions. The writers never allow her to get very far, but it’s an early indication of her intelligence and tenacity.

As Stohl tells it, though, Carol suspects nothing. She’s too busy swooning over his chiselled jaw to notice anything else.

Back in the present, thanks to Carol and Marie’s incompetence, Blue, Busty and Naked is holding JJ hostage. It’s surrounded by murderdrones and also flying, which is new (were we supposed to know it could fly?).

Tide Pod informs Marie that she has been tried in absentia, found guilty of high treason and sentenced to death. Evidently the Kree assassin units were programmed to respond to Marie’s locator beacon, and when Carol inadvertently switched it on, Kleenex was automatically deployed. Well done, Carol.

Carol goes to deck Dishwasher, before Marie points out that maybe attacking the being currently holding her brother by the throat isn’t the greatest idea.

Bargain Basement Mystique flies off with JJ, leaving its drones to rain down destruction.

The two women fly into action. Marie is struggling a little, being out of practice.

“Look at that. I’m the worst thing that ever happened to this town. This is all my fault…”

Aw, don’t be so hard on yourself, Carol. This is at least fifty percent Marie’s fault.

They split up. Carol finds JJ in town, hanging from a burning building. She flies to his aid, but Joe yells out, “No no no, Carol, it’s—“

Klinger: —A TRAPPPPPP!

What is this?! How shitty an assassin do you have to be to announce your own ambushes?

So Admiral bloody Ackbar lands on Carol and starts beating up on her, while she starts having a panic attack because who the fuck knows anymore.

Carol: Get— [wheeze] offa— [wheeze]

Marie, who last we saw was zooming off to the other side of town, is inexplicably on the scene. She flies up to rescue JJ, scooping him into her arms just as the burning building collapses.

Before I move onto the next page, I want to just take note of everybody’s positions. Carol is lying on her back, hyperventilating, as Janitor holds her down and beats her. Marie is in the air, cradling JJ in her arms.

Because this is the next thing we see.

Marie, hovering alone in the sky, is struck by some kind of beam.

Carol flies up from behind to catch her.

What happened to JJ?! What happened to the blue fucker?! What happened to the goddamn panic attack?!

Anyway then Carol is like LET OUR POWERS COMBINE and she and Marie go full Care Bear Stare, and I know I’m mixing my early nineties cartoon metaphors, but it is what it is.

I mean, it’s supposed to be a photon blast, but what else would you call this?

[Carol and Marie sparkle furiously] Marie: It’s working… keep it up!!! Carol: Ugly Space Face… is falling back!!!  …with the power of all Hala… Marie: …with your strength, and with mine…

(btw, somebody needs to ban this woman from using exclamation marks.)

But oh no! Something goes wrong! Carol manages to sparkle too hard!

Carol and Marie, in unison for some reason: Don’t… let… up!!! Carol: Wait— Ma, it’s— it’s too much! Can’t… control… Pull back!

They sparkle so hard they make an explosion!

They sparkle so hard they get thrown up into the air!

They sparkle so hard that Carol sees her life pass before her eyes!

I wish I was even partially kidding.

We flashback to Carol and “Walt”, aka Mar-Vell, in full astronaut gear on the outside of a space station. Mar-Vell says there’s something he’s been trying to tell her for a while, and then takes off his helmet.

(For those keeping score: Yes, this is one of Mar-Vell’s powers, but it’s not a universal Kree power. Neither is half the stuff Stohl attributes to Carol and Marie’s “natural” Kree abilities.)

Mar-Vell: You want to know the truth about starstuff, Carol? We’re all made of stars… just not the same stars. Carol: I… I can’t believe it… Mar-Vell: You have to. Because I’m not the only one. We’re in danger, Carol, and if they come for me, I’m afraid I won’t be able to protect you…

In the original Captain Marvel, Carol never quite manages to uncover Walter Lawson’s true identity. It’s Mar-Vell’s show, she’s just the love interest, and he always outsmarts her in the end.

In this version of events, she never even suspects him of duplicity. She just stands there gawping while he tells her everything, because he’s afraid his enemies will target him through her.

Which they do.

“Mar-Vell was right. The enemy struck. And when Yon-Rogg couldn’t get to him… he got to me.”

You fuckers. You had the power to change this. You had in your hands the opportunity to give Carol an origin story that was actually about Carol and not a just dick-measuring contest between two super-powered men.

You could have done so much, and what you decided on was ‘yep, that’s exactly how it played out, except Carol was less capable and intelligent and active and also she already had superpowers to begin with.’

You. mother. fuckers.

“[E]ven then, the Kree didn’t see me as a threat. I was just a weak human. And when the Psyche-Magnitron hit, it was easy to believe the powers I gained were Mar-Vell’s. Nobody knew the truth… my secret birthright. Not even me. […] Just as nobody ever knew the reason I’d always flown higher or pushed further or run faster or given more: to let flow the awakening stars beneath my skin, though I didn’t know why I craved them, or what they were.”

So again, all of Carol’s dreams and ambitions? All her drive and grit and perseverance? Her hunger for speed and flight, pushing herself to go higher, further, faster?

None of it’s hers. All of it, all of it, is explicitly attributed to her alien blood. Not her accumulation of experiences, relationships, successes and failures. It’s simple genetics. Base instinct.

Fuck you, Margaret Stohl. Fuck everybody who had a hand in this colonoscopy of a miniseries. Carol deserves better.

Meanwhile, the Khambermaid has decided that it might have an easier time killing somebody if it’s wearing clothes.

Janitor: Upgrading combat suit… [manifests armour] Carol: Coming, Ma! Janitor: …and weaponry! [manifests a giant spear]

Why did you not start with this, then?

For that matter, why did you not just send your drones to bomb the Danvers house rather than theatrically announce your presence, take JJ hostage and formally announce Marie’s death-sentence-in-absentia?

So of course Mopster throws the spear at Carol, and of course Marie throws herself in front of it, and of course Carol cradles Marie in her arms and begs her to go because “I just got you back”, and of course she dies while telling Carol how proud she is.

Carol asks Marie what her missions was, why she came to Earth from Hala. And Marie, the woman who as we have established has made her daughter feel alienated and neglected and undervalued for her entire life says “It was… you. My mission was always… you.”

(The Karpet Kleaner has already fucked off back to space at this point, btw.)

Two weeks later, this is how Carol reflects on her feelings about her mother:

“When I look for Ma in our family albums, I don’t even see her face anymore… now she just looks like some kind of bright star to me. Captain Mari-Ell, daughter of Hala. A ball of cosmic dust and burning light… But as much as her light hurts my eyes, I can’t look away, and I can’t outrun her or even outfly her… because nothing’s faster than light.”

what.

what.

Marie has done nothing to earn this mythic status. She’s a terrible parent who, as best I can tell, had two real conversations with her daughter in Carol’s entire life, and both of them happened in the last six hours of her life. She’s not a ball of radiant light or whatever, she’s a snazzy costume with all the personality and heroism of a potato.

What are you doing chucking perfectly good photos into the void of space? There’s no logical symbolism to it. You scatter her ashes in space, you’re returning her to the stars, taking her on one last flight, etc. You scatter family photos in space, you’re just littering.

You already did the crying-tears-that-turn-to-ice-in-the-vacuum-of-space. Just because you wasted it on a hacky moon tantrum back in issue two, doesn’t mean you get a second go at it.

Carol meets Tony on the Moon and tells him she needs to get back to work.

Carol: I feel closer to her when I’m Captain Marvel than when I’m… not. Tony: You know what you are, Care Bear? You’re hers. Maybe that’s the thing about all this ‘daughter of light’ stuff. That light is in you and she’s in you— Car-Ell, daughter of Mari-Ell— yadda yadda yadda mumbo midichlorians jumbo— you catch my drift.

what ‘daughter of light’ stuff? NOBODY HAS MENTIONED ANY ‘DAUGHTER OF LIGHT’ STUFF.

Then it’s back to Maine to farewell JJ and Nice Guy Louis — who finally gets his kiss, though not without passing up the opportunity to complain that he’s been waiting fourteen years for it. I cannot believe this fucko was the love interest.

Finally, Carol flies off amid more wanky narration about how she is truly her mother’s daughter and her story will live in Marie’s legend (what legend? Marie only did two things in her life, become a Kree military officer and have a daughter, and she couldn’t be bothered following through on either one of them) and Marie will live in her heart.

Writing tip from Margaret Stohl: Having trouble building a believable relationship between your characters? Try not doing it and saying you did! Marie may be an empty shirt of a character, and her neglect may have caused Carol lasting scars into adulthood, but the important thing is, Carol tells us that they had a rich and meaningful relationship. That means it must be true!

[vroenis]

Part 2

This is part 1.

It turns out reflecting over my whole life is going to be a daily affair. It doesn’t really feel that different. Also I don’t know when it started.

- When a domestic interaction induces stress, my immediate response is to reduce external signs of my presence in that space. I look for objects that indicate my presence and remove them. I am an extremely tidy person, but things like shoes etc., I’ll withdraw them from a common area i.e., foyer, and put them in the most invisible place possible such as in a bedroom wardrobe.

I’ve been doing this for a long time. I also do this socially. When I read friction or difficulty between myself and others, I withdraw from them, even when it’s one-sided on my behalf. I wait for them to demonstrate to me that they want my company, which leads to

- I’m confused as to why people don’t demonstrate that they’re desirous of my company enough, even if obvious and understandable logistics prevent it.

I appreciate that as an autistic person, I spend a lot of time in self-observation, so I may have quite literal timers running on how often I’ve been communicating with the various people in my life. For neurotypicals, I assume much of this is allegedly natural, whatever that means, so if it isn’t, I don’t know what’s happening. I’m left to assume I’m not welcome. If I’m not welcome, I’m abandoned.

- There are people in my life who have had greater awareness of my health states than others and for a longer period of time, who have nevertheless behaved in manners that I can only describe as controlling, manipulative and abusive.

Today is the day I’ve realised this and I don’t know what to do about it. They hold positions of immense power in communities. I don’t need retribution, that’s not something I’m ever interesting in, but knowing something means reconciling it and never unknowing it. They won’t acknowledge it, won’t recognise it, will absolutely deny it, will be deft and intelligent at disarming and gaslighting, and I suspect may have for a long time been subtle in what they communicate to others in shared social circles about who I am and behaviours I exhibit. This is the first time I’ve ever spoken about these things. Until now, I’ve thought of these people only in good faith. The sinking feeling I have is that their behaviours have for a long time affected others and will continue to into the future. And I don’t know what to do about that.

- I keep thinking back on things I’ve done and now that I understand myself and autism, I know exactly how I fucked-up and I wish I could go back and explain to everyone I ever met why I did the things I did and how I wouldn’t do the same things again.

Over time my self-observation and self behavioural analysis has taken over so much of my time and energy spend, not only on the present i.e., what I do in the present right now, but on reflection and how I’ve made mistakes in the past and even things I’d taken for granted; interactions from the past I may not have ever rostered for assessment. My entire life would have had a myriad of different trajectories had I been aware of ASD. The earlier I’d had awareness, the more things may have changed. I did mention this before with regards to bipolar, as in I’ve had my bipolar diagnosis for longer hence more awareness, more education, more management, but now with autism and neurotypical/neurodivergent behaviour I keep going back thru my entire life or events and interactions keep coming to me - my mind brings them to me for assessment as if to say “so what about this, then?” - not in a malicious way, either, I genuinely enjoy it, it feels like the action comes from a place of curiosity because I genuinely want to know. So many things that hadn’t made sense or had baffled me or were incongruous in my life are beginning to connect and make sense and it’s simultaneously pleasing but also sorrowful to have happen.

I don’t ever seek to alleviate myself of my accountability, I would never seek to say something wasn’t my fault as if to treat my autism as this thing that’s somehow separate from myself. I’m still me. I still did what I did. I just wish I could explain it to people and apologise to them because I’m still so so sorry and no matter who they are, even if I still don’t like them, every human deserves respect and dignity. Outside of the fact that so many things are so difficult for me to navigate in this life, regardless - I still don’t want to harm other people.

- Showers are surreal and wonderful instances of suspension and isolation.

There are few activities that can suspend time but a shower seems to be one of them. Being enveloped in heat, moisture and constant, sustained sound is immensely pleasing. I enjoy clarity of thought in which I can meditate, pursue linear, parallel, multi-dimensional, scattered or nebulous meandering thought-spaces, or simply be in suspended null-space and simply hear and feel. There are the actions of washing, including those times that are wash days for my hair, and then the rest of the time is simple state of being. I can’t simply treat a shower as brutal utility. I have few moments of peace left in my life, let me have this one.

- Oddly either I don’t stim as often or only in specific circumstances, or in specific ways, or I’ve been admonished so often by others that I’ve clamped/suppressed it so hard I can’t do it any more. Nevertheless, when other people keep making human noises all together at the same time, I become distressed.

This is a different statement to the human noises of people doing their shopping at the grocery store/supermarket. These situations are more specific to perhaps being in a room together attempting to focus on something specific or driving in a car. It’s difficult for me to be specific because in certain contexts, a cacophony of speech and noise is not only understandable and acceptable but totally fine and encouraged as in, I will encourage and induce it and I’m totally fine. Some  specific board games would be good examples and I love them and enjoy them. This would make it understandably difficult for the neurotypicals around me to try and understand under which circumstances I might need calm and peacefulness given I’m not always a quiet person, altho perhaps my own behaviour at the time might assist in telegraphing that. In some situations, people seem *to me* to begin emitting strange and unrelated noise that is difficult for me to reconcile and my response is distress. This is likely due to the lack of ability in psychoacoustic filtering. Neurotypicals can remove/ignore sounds, or have some or all of it have a reduced effect on them. I can’t speak for all ASD people but I’ve never been able to do this. All audio stimulus arrives and is processed with equal importance at all times. To loop back to the music and advertising at the supermarket, this is why I have to remove the music and advertising that plays at the supermarket, because it’s so godawful and I can’t bear it and I *can’t not hear it* and I *can’t ignore* it.

- Most neurotypicals don’t know that many of their behaviours induce stress to neurodiverse people. I don’t know how to educate them directly.

This is an edit so I hope I can get this in before too many people miss it. Some people are really receptive to learning about something and making an attempt to modifying their behaviour, others are less so, especially the elderly which for some of us at our age, means our parents. The other challenge is depending on our stress levels, it can be extremely difficult to communicate in a way that is conducive to others hearing it what our needs are. I should stop speaking in the collective and speak in the individual/personal. Unfortunately when I’m distressed and people around me ask “what’s wrong?”, that’s probably the worst time for me to tell you what I need i.e., that something you and/or everyone present is doing something that’s causing me distress. I know and understand that no-one is intentionally doing anything to cause me stress, but neurotypicals tend to take it personally.

Often NT’s first response when we tell them something they’re doing is causing stress is to get offended and say

“I didn’t mean to do this to you”

and we didn’t say you did - that’s not the point. The point is it’s distressing anyway. It’s a bit like an industrial jackhammer down the street. It doesn’t mean to offend me either, it’s a machine. It’s still battering my ears, tho. (I usually don’t mind industrial jackhammers, by the way).

This is why I’ve generally not ever said anything about anything that distresses me my whole life, I’ve just suppressed my reactions and endured it.

I’ve been suppressing and carrying so much my whole life and I think doing that has been taking it’s toll and I don’t know what the long-term consequences of that are. It’s beginning to leak, now, at my age, and I can’t really do it any longer, because I’m tired. I need the people around me to understand and help me cope.

- Only this week, in May of 2021, am I learning that Tumblr is actually a wonderful place and resource for neurodiverse people.

I will always adore and respect the rebloggers, I love you all. I’ll never be someone who reblogs endless content but I’m so happy to see people doing this, it’s a way to keep content alive, keep it distributed and keep it visible - don’t ever stop. But what I have found is that the autism tag has a high volume of people actively writing about their experiences, whether it’s their encounters with the medical industry, the process of diagnosis, social stigma, daily interaction, challenges or triumphs. All of it is important - all of it - the memes, the writing, the twitter screencaps, the push against the bad orgs and systemic misunderstanding, it’s been heart-warming to go exploring. While I write wholly on my PC, I tend to go exploring on my phone and I’ve saved started to save a few hilarious memes, but also really touching and meaningful images that mean so much because they capture so perfectly what our lives can be like.

We might be strewn across the globe, separated by kilometres and miles, we may never meet in person, and we may be very different people and personality types with broadly different artistic and cultural tastes from a myriad of different backgrounds, but in this we are united and we have this common understanding. 

So far this week if I have two good things, it’s showers and Autism Tumblr.

[alexanderessex3dstoryart]

Script-Writing - Characters, Themes and Story

For today’s research, I thought I would establish my characters, story and the themes that I want to bring across for the scene for the script-writing part of my essay so that I can refer back to this and help me write my essay. Starting off, I thought about which characters would be involved in my scene as well as a fact file of how they behave and what’s their relationship to one another.

Characters

Ego (Jekyll Character)

Obsessed with the ideas of celebrities and idols in the universe as they act like gods and role-models to him

Very handy person and the best at his craft of making things but also mending things too

Has learned to adapt to the ongoing changes of the world with cyber technology

So good at his craft to the point he’s fixing the most important people in the city like the president and the top celebrities that reside in the area

Despite his extreme time he puts into the craft as well as how he’s the best at what he does, he doesn’t get any recognition for his efforts which is what allows his body to transform into the Hyde character

But despite this detail, he still is a really nice individual who doesn’t intend in hurting in anybody or saying anything cruel

Sane individual for the most part at the beginning of the story but becomes much more insane over the course of the story and what leads to the eventualfull downfall of both Ego and Impluse

Nice person at the start of the story but then turns sour and in his last moments, he recognises his faults and what leads him and Hyde to pass away from this world for good

Is obsessed over the celebrity ‘Chance’ due to being the one he’s fixed the most on and having the closet relationship too out of the all the celebs in the city despite her never acknowledging his talents or wanting to share them to the world

Has a bit of a god complex

The name Ego is a literal definition for the character as he has a huge ego about himself and his work. Whislt he may be truly the best at his craft, his idea of himself thinking the world revolves around him makes him feel like he should be under the spotlight from how hard he’s worked 

Impulse (Hyde Character)

A spirit that possess Ego from the natural world that reatin’s the physical presence of him but in a giant mechanical mech

Thinks independently to Ego but is a manifestation of Ego’s hatred towards Idol culture

Is very much against the whole idea of celebs and idols from how people obsess over them so much to the point they lose their own identity

Wants people to experience life outside of the city and apprentice living 

Loves living and 

Hates anything that closely resembles anything famous as he finds that environment toxic

Has murderous intent but not to the point he wants to murder everything in his path as he has morals to who he needs to kill which frankly, he only ever kills one individual across my story

Whilst he has murderous intent, he’s fascinated by humanity and what it has to offer as the holograms in the city he finds special as they look at him not as a junk monster, but has someone that has compassion 

Wants to be seen as human and be accepted as individual and not a freak of nature

Whilst against Jekyll for the most part, he serves as a mentor for Jekyll through the course of the story and allows him to experience life outside of the city despite being very narcissistic from Impulse murdering his role model 

Literally has Ego chained up inside of Impulse’s body

The name Impulse is to represent his hatred for the city and what it stands for and how it operates. The city to him acts as a graveyard to him which is ironic from where he came from that being a junkyard in the forested areas outside of the city. The reason he sees it this way is due to how the humans want less and less of their identity to be shown in that culture with most organic parts being replaced by robotic parts to gain an edge as well as becoming obsessed with celeb culture. Both of these to him make humans want to become something else like they’re not happy with themselves and try to aspire to be their own unique self.

Chance (Sir Danvers Carew Character)

Ego’s biggest idol and the one that he obsesses over the most out of all the idols in the city

Relies on Ego to fix her equipment being her arms, head and legs as they need the most attention. This is to symbolise without these facial features and appenditures, your just a generic body that could be casted off as a slab of meat which shows lack of soul

Is killed by Impluse with a broken off road sign found in the slums and is used to stab her right in the heart and prop her up against the entrance of the slums. This symbolises the disconnect from the slum world to the flashy city as whilst it was Ego’s favourite idol, the general public care about her death for a couple of days until she’s old news and the next idol takes her place like she didn’t exist. This is why shes propped up halfway between these two worlds as the world sees her but is then casted away into the slums.

Might consider having just her body presented to the world with no arms, legs or head to further drive that symbolism across 

The name Chance is inspired by how you have to be incredibly lucky to reach elitist status in the world in terms of being a celebrity which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it’s just that it adds 

Once I’d covered the characters, I went back on my previous blog posts and ideas and list out my themes that I would like to convey in the scene as well as covering the whole story too.

Themes

Lack of identity - From the removal of identity from the use of cyber enhancements replacing people’s characteristics with new ones as well as obsessing over celebrity culture to the point of not having an identity yourself. Essentially, the city acts like a graveyard

Roger Ebert puts it best -

Humanity - Impulse covers this theme the best through the usage of holograms as they severe as the closest living thing to accepting who he is which emphasises the humanity of Impulse despite his murderous intent 

Apprenticing Life for what it has to offer - Impluse commits actions that he believes will help grow Ego to become a better person. Whilst these methods are brutal and sadistic, it’s to further emphasise the point to abandon the city he’s all too familiar with. In addition to this, the world outside of the city is filled with life and exploration but because everyone is so attached to the city, no one dares to leave because they are so attached to it and feel terrified if they leave something they’re too familiar with

Attachment?

For the story, I looked back on the script-writing website on how to write a synopsis for a story for script-writing and this is what it breaks-down to; Beginning, Inciting incident, first turning point, call to action, point of no return, all is lost, second turning point, climax, the end. I think for the context for the script and essay, I think I’ll stick to these terms as it will help to establish the general story I want to bring across.

Story Beginning - Ego is a hard-working individual who works his way through the ranks of the engineering world becoming the best at his craft to the point he’s working with high-end celebrities, idols and important influential people. 

Inciting Incident - He then ends up working with his favourite idol that he obsesses over by the name of ‘Chance’. Although despite working with her so much, she doesn’t seem to pay any real interest into him or acklodge he exists. In fact, he’s a blur to her despite fixing her at the worst points in her idol career. It doesn’t help that he’s been also promised at a chance at the spotlight by her for his hard-working efforts and dedication to his craft. This leads to him becoming depressed and feel disconnected to her as his talents aren’t recognised on stage by her or she does anything to put him in the spotlight. But at the same time, he feels a bit of hatred towards her being casted away from her.

First turning point - Saddened by this continuous guilt and this hatred brewing, he flocks outside of the city to the abandoned wasteland that lies on the outside of the city as he feels worthless and forgotten in the world. This leads him to this natural wasteland with greenery from top to bottom but because of his  emotions, he doesn’t take in it’s beauty and ploughs through the deserted environment. He then ends up in an abandoned junkyard in the greenery which then his hatred begins to manifest and create the character that is known as Impluse with large bits of scrap coming from either side attaching to his body and part of the scenery as well like skulls and plants.

Call to action - Impulse begins to gain conscious of his surroundings and initially has quite the negative reaction to Ego being inside his body as Ego is hung up inside supporting him with his arms and legs are inside Impulse’s body. However rather than scold him and threaten him, he hesitates and takes in the life around him with the flourishing natural environment almost speaking to him. It’s at this stage he almost forgets who he is as he becomes in tranced of his surroundings. Puzzled and confused, Ego tries talking to him which he then snaps back to a perfectly normal expression and questions the feelings he’s feeling as he’s never felt something like that before. Ego is quick to pass it off as star-gazing as there’s nothing special to this area in his eyes. Impulse then feels angered from that comment as he wants to protect what he can’t see is beautiful. This leads to Ego influencing Impluse to see what truly is beautiful in his eyes which leads Impulse to the city.

Point of No Return - When they arrive at the city, Impulse is confused at what he’s actually looking at as all he can see are blank black and white screens with different lettering to them and emptyless buildings. Comparing this to Ego’s perception of the city, he’s in a trance like state from all of the pretty colours that shine down around the city with the moving imagery of holograms scattered across. Both characters have a back and forth to what they find so special about the city with Ego amazed by the colours and flashiness of it and Impluse very much unable to grasp the culture being presented to him. This then leads to the two characters walking into the slums of the city to which they see Chance coming out of one of the buildings as she walks into the city. Impulse ends up killing Chance to prove a point to Ego that you shouldn’t be attached to this kind of toxic behaviour as he stabs Chance through her body just outside of the streets of the city with her legs, head and arms being ripped off. Ego is unable to see this murder occur as he passes out from losing control of himself in Impulse’s body.

All is lost - Ego wakes up in his bed with metal panels, scrap and environment scattered across his living space thinking it was all a bad dream until he sees the decapitated head of Chance and her limbs arranged in front of him. Ego is in immense sadness and confusion to how this has happened as he trembles in his movements that he's his role model is all mangled up in front of him. Things don’t help as on TV where the body is, his wrench is at the crime scene getting the wrong kind of spotlight he wished for. Impluse starts speaking to his head without the need of his humgoous body telling him it was the right thing to do.

Second turning Point - This makes Ego start to fester his hatred again and begin at it’s peak level as he wishes the whole world can burn and no-one deserves to live becoming just like Impulse when they first met. However, Impulse is feeling heavily resentful despite still hating the idol culture that is shown in the city as he regrets killing human life even if it taught him a lesson. He snaps out Ego’s mindset out of his head and asks him to come back to the city. WIth Ego standing in middle of the crosswalks, he begins to understand what it’s like to live life and the happiness it has being himself.

Climax - Unfortunately, this revelation from Ego is brought short as the police have spotted him in the city which Ego allows Impulse to take over his body and take him away from the city in a chase sequence. This then brings both characters to the in between of the city and the green wasteland where it’s marky and desert looking. Both Ego and Impulse sacrifice themselves in a chemical explosion so that they can both escape this world together as they know they aren’t suited here and are better known in a different life

The End - Nothing really happens or really changes to the city as the world keeps on moving on how it’s always been. However despite the irony that everything is remaining the same, more and more life starts to grow around the city encouraging people to explore and detach themselves from the culture that’s established in the city and experience a new life out of the city.

I think from my development today on the script-writing project, I can fully understand the scene that I would like to make now knowing the whole story, character’s intentions and backgrounds as well as my general themes being established in this document. I think to help with the essay structure, I plan to look into other scripts and see how I can both write and plan my scene out.

[anastpaul]

Saint of the Day – 16 November – St Gertrude the Great (1256-1302) Virgin, Benedictine Religious, Mystic, Theologian, Writer.  Born – on 6 January 1256 at Eisleben, Thuringia (part of modern Germany) – she died on a Wednesday of Easter season, 17 November 1302 at the convent of Saint Mary’s of Helfta, Saxony (part of modern Germany) of natural causes.   Her relics reside in the old monastery of Helfta.   Patronages – • nuns • Magdeburg, Germany, diocese of • Naples, Italy • West Indies.   Attributes – • crown • lily • taper, candle.   St Gertrude received equipotent canonisation and a universal feast day was declared in 1677 by Pope Clement XII.

St Gertrude the Great, of whom I would like to talk to you today, brings us once again this week to the Monastery of Helfta, where several of the Latin-German masterpieces of religious literature were written by women.   Gertrude belonged to this world.  She is one of the most famous mystics, the only German woman to be called “Great”, because of her cultural and evangelical stature:  her life and her thought had a unique impact on Christian spirituality.   She was an exceptional woman, endowed with special natural talents and extraordinary gifts of grace, the most profound humility and ardent zeal for her neighbour’s salvation.  She was in close communion with God both in contemplation and in her readiness to go to the help of those in need.

At Helfta, she measured herself systematically, so to speak, with her teacher, Matilda of Hackeborn, of whom I spoke at last Wednesday’s Audience.   Gertrude came into contact with Matilda of Magdeburg, another medieval mystic and grew up under the wing of Abbess Gertrude, motherly, gentle and demanding.   From these three sisters she drew precious experience and wisdom;  she worked them into a synthesis of her own, continuing on her religious journey with boundless trust in the Lord.   Gertrude expressed the riches of her spirituality not only in her monastic world but also and above all in the biblical, liturgical, Patristic and Benedictine contexts, with a highly personal hallmark and great skill in communicating.

Gertrude was born on 6 January 1256, on the Feast of the Epiphany but nothing is known of her parents nor of the place of her birth.   Gertrude wrote that the Lord himself revealed to her the meaning of this first uprooting:  “I have chosen you for my abode because I am pleased that all that is lovable in you is my work…. For this very reason I have distanced you from all your relatives, so that no one may love you for reasons of kinship and that I may be the sole cause of the affection you receive”  (The Revelations, I, 16, Siena 1994, pp. 76-77).

When she was five years old, in 1261, she entered the monastery for formation and education, a common practice in that period.   Here she spent her whole life, the most important stages of which she herself points out.   In her memoirs she recalls that the Lord equipped her in advance with forbearing patience and infinite mercy, forgetting the years of her childhood, adolescence and youth, which she spent, she wrote, “in such mental blindness that I would have been capable… of thinking, saying or doing without remorse everything I liked and wherever I could, had you not armed me in advance, with an inherent horror of evil and a natural inclination for good and with the external vigilance of others.   “I would have behaved like a pagan… in spite of desiring you since childhood, that is since my fifth year of age, when I went to live in the Benedictine shrine of religion to be educated among your most devout friends”(ibid., II, 23, p. 140f.).

Gertrude was an extraordinary student, she learned everything that can be learned of the sciences of the trivium and quadrivium, the education of that time;  she was fascinated by knowledge and threw herself into profane studies with zeal and tenacity, achieving scholastic successes beyond every expectation.   If we know nothing of her origins, she herself tells us about her youthful passions: literature, music and song and the art of miniature painting captivated her.   She had a strong, determined, ready and impulsive temperament.   She often says that she was negligent;  he recognises her shortcomings and humbly asks forgiveness for them.   She also humbly asks for advice and prayers for her conversion.   Some features of her temperament and faults were to accompany her to the end of her life, so as to amaze certain people who wondered why the Lord had favoured her with such a special love.

From being a student she moved on to dedicate herself totally to God in monastic life, and for 20 years nothing exceptional occurred: study and prayer were her main activities.   Because of her gifts she shone out among the sisters;   she was tenacious in consolidating her culture in various fields. Nevertheless during Advent of 1280 she began to feel disgusted with all this and realised the vanity of it all.   On 27 January 1281, a few days before the Feast of the Purification of the Virgin, towards the hour of Compline in the evening, the Lord with his illumination dispelled her deep anxiety.   With gentle sweetness He calmed the distress that anguished her, a torment that Gertrude saw even as a gift of God, “to pull down that tower of vanity and curiosity which, although I had both the name and habit of a nun alas I had continued to build with my pride, so that at least in this manner I might find the way for you to show me your salvation” (ibid., II, p. 87).   She had a vision of a young man who, in order to guide her through the tangle of thorns that surrounded her soul, took her by the hand.   In that hand Gertrude recognised “the precious traces of the wounds that abrogated all the acts of accusation of our enemies” (ibid., II, 1, p. 89), and thus recognised the One who saved us with His Blood on the Cross:  Jesus.

From that moment her life of intimate communion with the Lord was intensified, especially in the most important liturgical seasons Advent-Christmas, Lent-Easter, the feasts of Our Lady even when illness prevented her from going to the choir.   This was the same liturgical humus as that of Matilda, her teacher;  but Gertrude describes it with simpler, more linear images, symbols and terms that are more realistic and her references to the Bible, to the Fathers and to the Benedictine world are more direct.

Her biographer points out two directions of what we might describe as her own particular “conversion”:  in study, with the radical passage from profane, humanistic studies to the study of theology, and in monastic observance, with the passage from a life that she describes as negligent, to the life of intense, mystical prayer, with exceptional missionary zeal.   The Lord who had chosen her from her mother’s womb and who since her childhood had made her partake of the banquet of monastic life, called her again with his grace “from external things to inner life and from earthly occupations to love for spiritual things”.   Gertrude understood that she was remote from him, in the region of unlikeness, as she said with Augustine;  that she had dedicated herself with excessive greed to liberal studies, to human wisdom, overlooking spiritual knowledge, depriving herself of the taste for true wisdom;  she was then led to the mountain of contemplation where she cast off her former self to be reclothed in the new.   “From a grammarian she became a theologian, with the unflagging and attentive reading of all the sacred books that she could lay her hands on or contrive to obtain. She filled her heart with the most useful and sweet sayings of Sacred Scripture. Thus she was always ready with some inspired and edifying word to satisfy those who came to consult her while having at her fingertips the most suitable scriptural texts to refute any erroneous opinion and silence her opponents” (ibid., I, 1, p. 25).

Gertrude transformed all this into an apostolate:  she devoted herself to writing and popularising the truth of faith with clarity and simplicity, with grace and persuasion, serving the Church faithfully and lovingly so as to be helpful to and appreciated by theologians and devout people.

Little of her intense activity has come down to us, partly because of the events that led to the destruction of the Monastery of Helfta.   In addition to The Herald of Divine Love and The Revelations, we still have her Spiritual Exercises, a rare jewel of mystical spiritual literature.

In religious observance our Saint was “a firm pillar… a very powerful champion of justice and truth” (ibid., I, 1, p. 26), her biographer says.   By her words and example she kindled great fervour in other people.   She added to the prayers and penances of the monastic rule others with such devotion and such trusting abandonment in God that she inspired in those who met her an awareness of being in the Lord’s presence.   In fact, God made her understand that he had called her to be an instrument of his grace.   Gertrude herself felt unworthy of this immense divine treasure, and confesses that she had not safeguarded it or made enough of it.   She exclaimed: “Alas! If You had given me to remember You, unworthy as I am, by even only a straw, I would have viewed it with greater respect and reverence that I have had for all Your gifts!”(ibid., II, 5, p. 100). Yet, in recognising her poverty and worthlessness she adhered to God’s will, “because”, she said, “I have so little profited from your graces that I cannot resolve to believe that they were lavished upon me solely for my own use, since no one can thwart your eternal wisdom.   Therefore, O Giver of every good thing who has freely lavished upon me gifts so undeserved, in order that, in reading this, the heart of at least one of Your friends may be moved at the thought that zeal for souls has induced you to leave such a priceless gem for so long in the abominable mud of my heart” (ibid., II, 5, p. 100f.).

Two favours in particular were dearer to her than any other, as Gertrude herself writes: “The stigmata of Your salvation-bearing wounds which you impressed upon me, as it were, like a valuable necklaces, in my heart and the profound and salutary wound of love with which you marked it. “You flooded me with your gifts, of such beatitude that even were I to live for 1,000 years with no consolation neither interior nor exterior the memory of them would suffice to comfort me, to enlighten me, to fill me with gratitude.   Further, You wished to introduce me into the inestimable intimacy of your friendship by opening to me in various ways that most noble sacrarium of Your Divine Being which is Your Divine Heart…. To this accumulation of benefits you added that of giving me as Advocate the Most Holy Virgin Mary, your Mother and often recommended me to her affection, just as the most faithful of bridegrooms would recommend His beloved bride to His own mother” (ibid., II, 23, p. 145).

(via AnaStpaul – Breathing Catholic)

[cactusnotes]

Max Stirner

Inspired by Hegel, Stirner lived a quiet life in multiple, low-paid jobs, but with a series of books that would form his legacy. One was ‘The Ego and his Own’, which did not gain any significance in his life, but this changed after his death. 

The melodramatic and brilliant writing influenced Nietzsche, Marx, and the growing anarchist movement. He came up with the theory of Stirnerian egoism, which is indeed quite different to the general ideas around egoism and self-interest. 

Stirner accepted psychological egoism to an extent, in that self-interest played a part in ethical decisions, however, he also asserted that this cannot be actively done unless one knows what the ‘self’ is, for otherwise it cannot be identified as self interest due to ambiguity. Looking at the word 'self-interest’ one could deduct that it is meant to be actively sought, and benefits us. 

So, someone who does something, feeling like they are a ‘slave’ to whatever causes that--whether it is instinct or the like--which is not the self itself. Thus, actions done due to the sense of having no other option is not true self interest. As such Indeed, language and rationality are both human inventions, yet have circled round to haunt their maker--humanity--so we lose the original sense of these creations. 

EINZIGE - EGO

He also believed that we are not truly free: religious and philosophical systems of moral behaviour control our moral choices. These are the things, as previously mentioned, things we are ‘slaves’ to. These are the ‘essences’ or the ‘ghosts’ in our decisions. 

Actual egoism is realising personhood outside of religious and philosophical systems, to find out what our ‘ownness’ is, and gain mastery over this part of us. The true self must be free from external ideologies and internal senses and instincts, to end up with a truly ‘unique’ self. 

“Totally different from this free thinking is own thinking, my thinking, a thinking which does not guide me, but is guided, continued, or broken off, by me at my pleasure.” 

Stirner thinks we should acknowledge this enslavement, about how the idea controls us, and is it so deeply integrated in to us, as shown by our fears in nakedness, naturalness, and believe ourselves to be evil (from a Christian perspective clearly). 

However, though these control our actions, we cannot believe them to be moral, or moral actions. That comes from pursuing ourselves, finding what our ego and selves actually desires, wills and sees as right. Institutions and moral codes from external sources cannot be right within themselves. 

“There is no sinner and no sinful egoism!”

These ideologies cannot be right in themselves as they cannot lead to self development and moral improvement: they simply became rules with no freedom for thoughts on what is actually moral. Normative ethical frameworks enslave the self and ego. 

Philosophers are not excluded from this, though they are often regarded as free-thinking, as they say they reject God, yet seem to accept the laws his influence has left in the world, such as rejection of incest and adultery, which indicates they still follow the moral framework of the religion: it is integrated in to us. 

“I decide whether it is the right thing in me; there is no right outside of this.”

Stirner illustrates his point with the analogy of giving money to the homeless. Psychological egoism would suggest this is entirely for self-interest, and while Stirner accepts this is a part, he also states that we have a duty to do so which we follow, which is not, in itself, self-interest. 

This proves we are not free: we are troubled by guilt, consciences. However, there is reason why these can be seen as wrong--there are charities whose entire purpose is to help the homeless, thus we need not give to the poor. This shows that psychological egoism is not correct, as we are bound, enslaved by rules like helping those in need unless it is literally impossible to do so. The end action, giving money to the homeless, is reluctant. 

Our idea of good and bad are thus defined by institutions, rather than ourselves and a desire for bettering oneself by actually analysing what our self needs, and surely analysing and doing what the self needs would be the only way of improving the self! 

Stirner is not amoral (rejection of morality as a whole) though rejects values and fixed moral laws. Morality is to suggest truth in obligations to behave in certain ways: to believe that the self benefits from one of the institutional laws or obligations. Thus morality can be compatible with true egoism. It is not values though, Stirner’s morality, is more based on the non-rejection of moral claims. Stirner therefore doesn't think one should seek total rejection of our enslavement, but we should seek our true self and live by that, while still enslaved: do both, perhaps. 

“Do not seek for freedom...seek for yourself...just recognise what you really are, and let go of your hypocritical endeavours, your foolish mania to be something else than you are.”

EIGENHEIT - OWNNESS

There are differences between the perceived self and ownness: the idea of mastering oneself. Anyone who thinks they are free must check: they are free from all obligations to any conscious or subconscious ideal or ideology, religious or philosophical. 

One can only be their own when they are the master of themselves, rather than any external existences, from God to man, Church to law. This way, you can pursue, selfishly, anything that is of use to you. Do as you will and please. 

“He is an unfree man in the garment of freedom.”

Freedom. What is good and bad does not matter. As the owner of oneself, one is slave to no obligations. Therefore, as the master of oneself, you can do what you want. This would be to fulfil oneself, to do otherwise is still subject to moral laws. To be one's own person is true freedom. To note, ownness is not an idea, as morality and freedom are, it is a descriptor. A person either has ownness over themselves or doesn't. To have ownness then leads to ideas like freedom. 

“Away, then, with every concern that is not altogether my concern! You think at least the ‘good cause’ must be my concern? What’s good, what’s bad? Why, I myself am my own concern, and I am neither good nor bad. Neither has meaning for me.”

EINZIG - UNIQUENESS

To be unique is to possess the freedom from all impositions to pure individuality. To be aware of your ownness, and your will is different to applying. Applying and appreciating ownness is to become unique. One who is unique is the true self, or the true egoist. To be individual from all the conceptual theories is to be unique, separate, untied. You are the only one who owns themselves: you are unique. 

“Egoism does not think of sacrificing anything...it simply decides, what I want I must have.”

However, if everyone was unique, it does not oblige everyone being equal. Equality is another ideology that enslaves us. When one is unique, they are the only one. They are not an ego among other egos, the world is simply one's own ego. Everything therefore, about that world is unique, untouchable by external factors. 

An egoist must see themselves as unique, therefore meaning they cannot be equated to anyone: total differences cannot be compared, such as when multiple factors are changed, one cannot conclude a result, same here. One who is totally unique cannot be equated with anything or anyone--they are incomparable. 

Sensual appetites are also to be rejected by the self, or else the self has an obligation. Individuals need to form emotional detachments towards their own appetites and ideas, so greed for materialistic gain is also an obligation, and detachment from society is also not an obligation, for else that would be a source of enslavement. 

To be free to act to self interest is to act in the best way to behave for oneself, because it is what one wills free from any internal and external bindings. Uniqueness means that actions would vary between different people, serving their own nature. 

APPLIED THEORIES

Our relationships and behaviour all depend upon our own unique nature. There is neither obligation to be equal, nor obligation to be cruel materially-minded. Stirner himself advocated for co-operation between egos. Ownership seemed to be against any outside agent, yet, in the need of practicality, required a special, unprincipled community only united in recognition of the uniqueness of egoists. 

This union of egoists should form a society where cooperation prevailed in recognition of such a uniqueness, thus allowing a true identity could be sought and asserted. This is the weakness, in that it is obviously an obligation and ideal in itself. However, it was simply for the sake of practicality. It is a true, honest cooperation of individuals which respects the uniqueness of them all, is impermanent in all its connections, and supports all in their unique search of individual goals. No final ends.  

Application of this theory leads to links of anarchy.  No system should be there, for it interferes and conflicts with an individual’s uniqueness. However, one not being under any obligation whatsoever to a state does not directly clash with the existence of such a state. Individuals choose whether or not to follow laws of the state. Stirner does not see a need to actively oppose the state therefore, but still thought that the spread of egoism would lead to the natural collapse of the state anyway. 

“Now am I, who am competent for much, perchance to have no advantage over the less competent? We are all in the midst of an abundance; now shall I not help myself?”

Obviously, there is the criticism of clashing interests and bigotry.  He himself has asserted such, or at least has indicated intolerance. Indeed, how can one find their true self and fulfil its needs if their needs are clashing, or, through no fault of their own, they are subject to injustice, bigotry and lack of opportunities to seek their true self? 

However, this concern, to Stirner, is simply due to our own selves being slaves to institutions favouring compassion. It is not actually bad for people to fail to find themselves and suffer due to it, and if it asserted otherwise by one’s true self, then that true self must seek it. If one fails, then they too are subject to such logic. If one fails to seek their true self, that is on themselves, as it is their actions. Simple as.

[thereallygoodblogshow]

MA Fashion and Textile Practices Major Project Path - 12th August

So now I had created my template and practice piece that represented my Protest T-shirt, I wanted to do the same for my Anarchist of Love T-shirt, so I began to follow the same template. I found a couple of websites which had a good selection of love songs to get my teeth into and then that set the ball rolling to trigger more personal songs. Music is an emotional experience for me, I think that’s why I don’t listen to it very often, I invariably start crying! I’m a big indie rock fan so I thought looking at indie love songs would add a unique edge. Love songs don’t always have to be about being sentimental and overtly romantic. Once I had found suitable lyrics I created a Design Map as before to plot out the layout of the T-shirt.

Initially I wanted to design a T-shirt about love that was multicoloured, bright and eye catching, but then that didn’t represent the aesthetic I wanted to achieve. It was a T-shirt about being an anarchist of love, so it had to look like a newspaper or a billboard, where you were willing to literally wear your heart on your sleeve (or T-shirt!) I decided that incorporating red into the black and white mix would be apt. Our traditional ‘Red Top’ newspapers grab attention like no others  - like the Daily Mirror front page on the Sex Pistols I showed earlier - and the colour red is considered to be the colour of love after all, but why is that? 

Red:

It is known that the colour red can affect us physically - simply observing the colour can enable increased heart rate, blood pressure and respiration. It makes us feel more energetic and confident, and can provide comfort, it’s a sexy colour, so there are many reasons why red is associated with love. Although red is very much the oxymoron of the colour wheel, it’s often used as a colour for warning, like the signs on the road - ‘Do not enter!’ and ‘Stop!’ Where would horror films be without the colour red? It’s the colour of blood and instills fear. Like the use of the red balloon that character Pennywise the clown carries in Stephen King’s tale ‘IT��. 

Wang, E. (2017). Scary Clown Delivery Service Offered by Hurts Donuts. [Photograph]. Retrieved from https://www.teenvogue.com/story/scary-clown-doughnut-delivery.

As I discussed in my previous blog entry regarding colour, colours can be interpreted in different ways depending on your culture, although the colour red is the most used colour in national flags. In China for instance the colour red is a protective colour. This theory comes from an ancient folk tale regarding a man eating beast called the Nian who only attacked at the end of the lunar year -Chinese New Year. The beast was overcome when the villagers discovered it  disliked light, loud noises and the colour red, so they made firecrackers, adorned their houses with red paper lanterns and dressed themselves with the colour for protection. Now at Chinese New Year these traditions still continue.   

Diana, L. (2017). Make Some Noise: The Story behind Chinese New Year Traditions. [Illustration]. Retrieved from https://steemit.com/chinesnewyear/@ladydiana/make-some-noise-the-story-behind-chinese-new-year-traditions.

The Aztecs discovered that using an extract from the female Cochineal beetle mixed with water produced a potent red dye. A pound of this dry extract would require the use of around 70,000 insects, which in the time of the Aztecs was more valuable than gold. The Aztecs may have discovered how to make and use extract, however it was the Spanish which introduced it to Europe around the 1500′s. The colour quickly took on where it was used mainly to produce textiles, many of which were used to produce gowns for the aristocracy or uniforms for armies. Red was perceived as a powerful colour.

Greenfield, A.B. (2016). An illustration of cochineal collection by Mexican priest and scientist José Antonio de Alzate y Ramírez, 1777. (Newberry Library, Edward E. Ayer Manuscript Collection) . [Illustration]. Retrieved from https://www.smithsonianmag.com/innovation/bug-had-world-seeing-red-180961590/.

The colour inevitably made its way to the artists paint palette where it was mixed with a binder to produce a vibrant pigment known as Lake. If your funds for new materials were a little tight, the colour could be made from shreds of dyed cloth, but the results were not hardly as vibrant as the results Lake could achieve. There was a drawback to its use however, whilst the colour remained vibrant on textiles it faded through exposure to daylight on canvas. Within oils it had to be used in excess otherwise with only minimal use it would fade quickly. In the late 19th century artificial colours were produced, such as ones made from coal rat called Alizarins. These new artificial pigments not only gave the same vibrancy but better longevity and offered a much cheaper alternative. For the sake of the Cochineal beetle, this was probably good news as it almost died out in its native homeland.

Victoria, A. (2019). Melody & Mist Portrait Of A Lady, By Etienne Adolphe Piot 1850. [Illustration]. Retrieved from https://www.liveinternet.ru/users/3162595/post452105198/. 

Whilst on the subject of love, why is the red rose so symbolic of the emotion? We could say that it’s all Shakespeare’s (1564 - 1616) fault when he penned in his romantic tragedy Romeo and Juliet, when Juliet declares: 

“What’s in a name? that which we call a rose. By any other name would smell as sweet”.

But the rose has had significant meaning to cultures far earlier than Shakespearean times. In Western culture the rose was believed to have been created by the Greek goddess of love herself; Aphrodite. After her lover Adonis was killed by a wild boar his blood and her tears soaked into the ground and from that grew red roses, although this story has many versions and some say the wildflower Anemone grew instead. In Roman mythology it is said that wealthy Romans gave red roses as symbols of beauty and love. For thousands of years China was the main cultivator of roses, roses were said to have been grown in cultivated Chinese gardens dating back 5,000 years. According to Hindu beliefs the Goddess Laxmi - who is the Goddess of fortune and prosperity -  was created from 108 large and 1,008 small rose petals. Many depictions of her show her sitting or standing in a giant rose and holding roses in her hands. Her husband, the God Vishnu was deeply in love with her, thus cementing the idea that roses were strongly connected to love and romance.

Turiya, n.d. (2011). Laxmi. [Illustration]. Retrieved from http://blog.visionaire.org/5-maggio-laxmi/.

The Victorians used flowers a as floral code to portray their emotions. Publicly declaring your undying love to the object of your desire was not socially acceptable in the Victorian era, so they developed a floral code to say what they couldn’t. This code wasn’t solely used for declarations of love, flowers were used to send messages of sympathy, friendship, desire etc. Each flower had a different meaning, and when combined in certain ways could say specific things. Through the use of this code the Victorians instilled in us the importance of flowers and what they mean to us today.

20th Century Typographers (2017) states the renowned Artist and Teacher Josef Albers said of the colour red: 

“If one says ‘Red’ (the name of a color) and there are 50 people listening, it can be expected that there will be 50 reds in their minds. And one can be sure that all these reds will be very different”.

Albers was a teacher at the Bauhaus Weimar from 1923 to the school’s dissolution in 1933. He taught the fundamental ethos of Bauhaus, that design should be based primarily on the properties of the material used and the function of the design. Along with fellow teacher and artist László Moholy-Nagy he taught this preliminary course until 1928, then solo until 1933. After his stint at Bauhaus he and his wife - Bauhaus student and fellow artist Anneliese Fleischmann - moved to America where he began to work at Black Mountain College in North Carolina. Here he developed and wrote the course Interaction of Color. Albers was obsessed with colour and its use. The course was a first of its kind, he wanted to describe and show how colour behaved, he described colour like it was a sentient thing. For centuries colour had been perceived as a science, from Newton’s discovery of the colour spectrum to that of the colour wheel used in the school of Bauhaus itself. Albers was uneasy with the concept of the colour wheel and believed it served of little practical use to an artist, he wanted to show that colour behaved in certain ways, he believed that we perceive colour in varying degrees and that as a medium it is bent on deceiving the viewer. He catagorised colours into three distinctive areas: Passive, Deceptive and Unstable but he did recognise that colours were predictable to some extent and that they ‘sat’ together well. In 1963 the course was finally published, 33 years after its inception and in 2013, a ground breaking digital edition of the Interaction of Color was developed in the form of an app for the Apple iPad. The 50th Anniversary Edition publication below appears to be supporting his quote in regards to the several ways we perceive the colour red:

Shop at Matter, n.d. (n.d). INTERACTION OF COLOR: 50TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION. [Photograph]. Retrieved from https://www.shopatmatter.com/product/interaction-of-color-50th-anniversary-edition/.

To me the most memorable of any ‘Love’ T-shirt that incorporates the colours black, white and red is that depicting graphic designer Milton Glaser’s famous logo ‘I ♥ NY’. On my first trip to New York it was one of the first things I wanted to buy because it represented a place I had only dreamt of going to. Also, I knew I could wear it once I got home as it was a fashionable item of clothing and still is! 

In 1976 when Glaser was a young New York designer just starting out, the city was on the decline. Crime rates were worrying high and many of the wealthier, middle class New Yorkers had moved out of town. Something had to be done in an attempt to restore some faith in the city, so the New York State Department of Commerce devised a campaign to do just that. The slogan ‘I love New York’ had already been mooted by Ad agency Wells Rich Greene and a jingle had been composed to be played between prime time TV shows. All that the campaign required was a strong logo to complete it and Glaser was brought in to do the job.    

S, A. (2013). A Brief History of the “I Love New York” Logo. [Illustration]. Retrieved from https://www.logoworks.com/blog/a-brief-history-of-the-i-love-new-york-logo/.

Clara, R. (2017). How the ‘I Heart NY’ Logo Transcended Marketing and Endures 4 Decades After Its Debut. [Photograph]. Retrieved from https://www.adweek.com/brand-marketing/how-the-i-heart-ny-logo-twice-transcended-marketing-and-endures-4-decades-after-its-debut/.

It was reported that in a yellow cab on the way to a client meeting he pulled out a red crayon from his pocket and quickly scrawled the idea down on a piece of paper. He then later adapted it so the text stacked on top of each other to line up the four elements. Using the heart instead of the word ‘Love’ was one of the first of its kind, akin to the use of emoji’s today. Chris Lowery (2017), president and chief strategist of Chase Design Group said as such:

“The I ♥ NY logo Milton Glaser created so many decades ago was really the world’s first emoji. In a diverse, multicultural city like New York, anyone who saw it instantly knew what it meant”.   

At the time Glaser worked pro bono, and when he was told the campaign wouldn’t run much past a few months he decided not to copyright the design. However New York state’s Economic Development Corp did copyright the design, and now after over 40 years it is still one of the world’s most recognised logos. The day after the horrific terrorist attack on New York on 11th September 2001, Glaser looked to the logo once again in an attempt to build moral. He signed the left side of the heart and added ‘more than ever’ underneath. 

Brady, S. (2018). Milton Glaser’s ‘I Love New York’ sign was used again after the 9/11 attacks. Image by Viviane Moos/Corbis via Getty Images. [Photograph]. Retrieved from https://www.lonelyplanet.com/news/2018/11/27/jane-maas/.

The modified logo appeared on the front cover of The Daily News on September 19th and the students at Manhattan’s School of Visual Arts produced a matching poster free of charge to be distributed around the city. Toufan Rahimpour (2017)  COO of Logoworks says the logo has stood the test of time for a reason:

“I ♥ NY was a symbol of its time (a “scrappy” logo for a “scrappy city”) that became so culturally omnipresent it transcended itself. It’s no longer just a logo, it conveys emotions. It represents the spirit of New York.”

Websites:

Smith, K. (n.d). All About the Color RED. Retrieved from http://www.sensationalcolor.com/color-meaning/color-meaning-symbolism-psychology/all-about-the-color-red-4344#.XVE_7OhKiUk.

20th Century Typographers. (2017). One Who Can See: A Look Back at Josef Albers’ Interaction of Color. Retrieved from https://www.printmag.com/color/one-can-see-look-back-josef-albers-interaction-color/.

100 Year of Bauhaus. (n.d). Josef Albers. Retrieved from https://www.bauhaus100.com/the-bauhaus/people/masters-and-teachers/josef-albers/.

The Josef and Anni Albers Foundation. (n.d). Interaction of Colour. Retrieved from https://albersfoundation.org/teaching/josef-albers/interaction-of-color/publications/.

Klara, R. (2017). How the ‘I Heart NY’ Logo Transcended Marketing and Endures 4 Decades After Its Debut. Retrieved from https://www.adweek.com/brand-marketing/how-the-i-heart-ny-logo-twice-transcended-marketing-and-endures-4-decades-after-its-debut/.

Greenfield, A.B. (2016). The Bug That Had the World Seeing Red. Retrieved from https://www.smithsonianmag.com/innovation/bug-had-world-seeing-red-180961590/.

Rose Festival Kanzalak. (n.d). Why are Red Roses Considered Romantic?. Retrieved from https://www.rosefestivalkazanlak.com/red-roses-meaning-romantic-love/.

Kremp, C. (2018). Why Are Bouquets of Roses So Romantic? The History of The Classic Red Rose. Retrieved from https://www.kremp.com/blog/flowers/why-are-bouquets-of-roses-romantic-history-of-red-rose.

Bartleby. (n.d). Romeo and Juliet Act II. Scene II.. Retrieved from https://www.bartleby.com/70/3822.html.

[scifigeneration]

Robot rights: at what point should an intelligent machine be considered a ‘person’?

by Kyle Bowyer

Science fiction likes to depict robots as autonomous machines, capable of making their own decisions and often expressing their own personalities. Yet we also tend to think of robots as property, and as lacking the kind of rights that we reserve for people.

But if a machine can think, decide and act on its own volition, if it can be harmed or held responsible for its actions, should we stop treating it like property and start treating it more like a person with rights?

What if a robot achieves true self-awareness? Should it have equal rights with us and the same protection under the law, or at least something similar?

These are some of the issues being discussed by the European Parliament’s Committee on Legal Affairs. Last year it released a draft report and motion calling for a set of civil law rules on robotics regulating their manufacture, use, autonomy and impact upon society.

Of the legal solutions proposed, perhaps most interesting was the suggestion of creating a legal status of “electronic persons” for the most sophisticated robots.

Approaching personhood

The report acknowledged that improvements in the autonomous and cognitive abilities of robots makes them more than simple tools, and makes ordinary rules on liability, such as contractual and tort liability, insufficient for handling them.

For example, the current EU directive on liability for harm by robots only covers foreseeable damage caused by manufacturing defects. In these cases, the manufacturer is responsible. However, when robots are able to learn and adapt to their environment in unpredictable ways, it’s harder for a manufacturer to foresee problems that could cause harm.

The report also questions about whether or not sufficiently sophisticated robots should be regarded as natural persons, legal persons (like corporations), animals or objects. Rather than lumping them into an existing category, it proposes that a new category of “electronic person” is more appropriate.

The report does not advocate immediate legislative action, though. Instead it proposes that legislation be updated if robots become more complex; if and when they develop more behavioural sophistication. If this occurs, one recommendation is to reduce the liability of “creators” proportional to the autonomy of the robot, and that a compulsory “no-fault” liability insurance could cover the shortfall.

But why go so far as to create a new category of “electronic persons”? After all, computers still have a long way to go before they match human intelligence, if they ever do.

But it can be agreed that robots – or more precisely the software that controls them – is becoming increasingly complex. Autonomous (or “emergent”) machines are becoming more common. There are ongoing discussions about the legal liability for autonomous vehicles, or whether we might be able to sue robotic surgeons.

These are not complicated problems as long as liability rests with the manufacturers. But what if manufacturers cannot be easily identified, such as if open source software is used by autonomous vehicles? Whom do you sue when there are millions of “creators” all over the world?

Artificial intelligence is also starting to live up to its moniker. Alan Turing, the father of modern computing, proposed a test in which a computer is considered “intelligent” if it fools humans into believing that the computer is human by its responses to questions. Already there are machines that are getting close to passing this test.

MIT’s artificial intelligence is able to synthesise sounds to video in a very believable way.

There are also other incredible successes, such as the computer that creates soundtracks to videos that are indistinguishable from natural sounds, the robot that can beat CAPTCHA, one that can create handwriting indistinguishable from human handwriting and the AI that recently beat some of the world’s best poker players.

Robots may eventually match human cognitive abilities and they are becoming increasingly human-like, including the ability to “feel” pain.

A robot being taught to ‘feel’ pain.

If this progress continues, it may not be long before self-aware robots are not just a product of fantastic speculation.

The EU report is among the first to formally consider these issues, but other countries are also engaging. Peking University’s Yueh-Hsuan Weng writes that Japan and South Korea expect us to live in a human-robot coexistence by 2030. Japan’s Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry has created a series of robot guidelines addressing business and safety issues for next generation robots.

Electronic persons

If we did give robots some kind of legal status, what would it be? If they behaved like humans we could treat them like legal subjects rather than legal objects, or at least something in between. Legal subjects have rights and duties, and this gives them legal “personhood”. They do not have to be physical persons; a corporation is not a physical person but is recognised as a legal subject. Legal objects, on the other hand, do not have rights or duties although they may have economic value.

Assigning rights and duties to an inanimate object or software program independent of their creators may seem strange. However, with corporations we already see extensive rights and obligations given to fictitious legal entities.

Perhaps the approach to robots could be similar to that of corporations? The robot (or software program), if sufficiently sophisticated or if satisfying certain requirements, could be given similar rights to a corporation. This would allow it to earn money, pay taxes, own assets and sue or be sued independently of its creators. Its creators could, like directors of corporations, have rights or duties to the robot and to others with whom the robot interacts.

Robots would still have to be partly treated as legal objects since, unlike corporations, they may have physical bodies. The “electronic person” could thus be a combination of both a legal subject and a legal object.

The European Parliament will vote on the resolution this month. Regardless of the result, reconsidering robots and the law is inevitable and will require complex legal, computer science and insurance research.

Kyle Bowyer is a Lecturer at the Curtin Law School, Curtin University. This article was originally published on The Conversation. 

[gguksgalaxy]

Engraved pt. 6

Masterpost <-- Engraved 5 | Engraved 7 -->

Short: You’re a tattoo artist for a gang known as EXO who own a club down town. (read synopsis at masterpost) Words: 5141 Warnings: swearing, mentioning of dicks Pairings: D.O. x Reader, slight Kai X Reader, slight Chen X Reader A/N: LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YAHH PLEASE?????

Read it HERE on AFF, or below on Tumblr.

Xiumin pov

“Why do you always chose her side?!” Yixing yelled at him, standing in front of his desk. Minseok was leaning back in his chair, waiting for his friend to calm down. “Every single time I get into a fight with her, you pick her side! I get sent away and she doesn’t even get a warning!” He slammed his hands on the table. “Aren't you aware of what she did? All she’s done to us? What she’s ruined? You’re bringing that filth into our home like she belongs here! But she doesn’t, she’s poison! You saw that happened to D.O., they got into a dangerous fight FOR HER! Why would you do that? Don’t you care? You and I both know that it’s only a matter of time befo-“ “SHUT UP!” Xiumin yelled, suddenly, anger spilling over. 

“Bu-“ “Do not but me. Shut your fucking trap, and sit the fuck down. And I will tell you what’s going on here!” He growled, standing up from his chair. Lay sank into his chair, and Xiumin leant on the table, glaring at him. “I am the boss here, I decide who comes here and who doesn’t. You have no say in that. She has nothing to do with D.O. getting attacked, or with what happened to her last night. They came for her after they lost track of D.O. That is not her fault and you’re blowing it up.” “Do you actually believe that she doesn’t have anything to do with it. You said the same thing last time and we both kn-“ “STOP IT YIXING!” he yelled, throwing a book against the wall. “You're behaving like a child. Just because I’m not completely on your side, you’re throwing a tantrum. And you’re involving other members in this stupid feud you have with her. It ends here, and it ends now. Because she has never, ever said anything to you like you have to her. It’s always you who starts it, the yelling, the screaming, the fighting. It’s always you, and I need you to grow up and get over it.” He stated, trying his best to calm down. Lay scoffed, and Xiumin tightened his knuckles so hard they cracked. “You’re just going to forgive her for what happened to Luhan?” Yixing whispered, tears in his eyes. That was it, enough. “What happened to Luhan was MY fault not HERS!!!” he screamed.

***

Reader pov

You were sitting on the bed, Kyungsoo sitting next to you against the headboard. “I’ve never heard him this angry.” he whispered. “It happens.” you croaked, voice still hoarse. Xiumin’s office was close to this room, and while you couldn’t understand what he was saying, you could clearly distinct his voice from Lay’s. “Why does Lay behave that way to you.” he asked, looking at you, as you were drinking tea. A sigh escaped your lips. “Something happened, don’t want talk bout it.” you mumbled, trying to use as few words as possible since your throat was still incredibly sore. He frowned, searching your eyes. “Okay, I just hope you’ll be able to get along better some day.” “Probably not.” you held the warm cup in your hands, leaning it on your lap as you rested your head against his shoulder. “Sorry.” “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s okay, you don’t know me that well either.” he said, touching your hand briefly. “But I’m here if you ever need to talk.” “Thanks.” you whispered. The door opened and you lifted your head. Finding Suho in the doorway. “Hey.” You smiled. “Hi.” “Can I talk to you?” he asked, but it was more directed towards D.O. than to you. The boy beside you got up, running a hand through his fading red hair. “Yeah, sure. See you.” he said the last part to you, before he left the room. Suho sat down on the edge of your bed, worry clear in the frown on his face. He swallowed thickly and rolled his neck. “I need to ask you something. I won’t judge you, but please don’t lie to me.” You nodded, you had no reason to lie to him in any way. But you knew what this was about. “Have you ever apologised to Lay, for what happened?” he asked. It was a touchy subject, and even though you knew that it wasn’t your fault entirely you still felt extremely guilty for what happened all those years ago. “Yes, he won’t hear it.” Suho sighed, creasing his forehead further and rubbing the scar on the bridge of his nose. “Would you be willing to listen to him? Talk to him about it?” “You think he wants to talk bout about it, calmly?” you asked, and coughed. There was no more blood but it hurt a lot still. Suho rubbed a hand over you back and handed you a bottle of water. “It’s going too far now. Xiumin’s at a loss for what to do.” “Lay knows what happened, it’s his choice who to blame.” With every word you spoke your voice was getting worse and worse. “I just wish he’d stop bringing Jongin into it.” you mumbled. It needed to stop, you knew that. And you tried your best to ignore him, but it wouldn’t work. He wasn’t going to rest until you were gone. Because you had admitted to him that it was your fault, and sometimes you still had nightmares about that night. You felt like it was your fault, it was all your fault, but that wasn’t going to make it better. It couldn’t bring them back. “He has no right to do that. I heard what he said, and I don’t know what happened between you, but Xiumin wasn’t too happy about it either. I’m just glad Kai wasn’t there to hear it. I understand how Lay feels, that he’s angry, but it’s not going to make it better.” “He hasn’t accepted it yet.” Suho seemed a little shocked by your comment, so you elaborated. “Lay needs to give it a place, he hasn’t learnt to deal with it.” That’s when he seemed to understand. “I'm not sure if he ever will be able too.” You understood that, losing someone you love was hard, but through time you’d have to learn to live with it. “Sorry.” He smiled, eyes squinting, cheeks round. “Thanks for listening to me, I’ll let you rest now.“

***

The first time you got out of the bed properly was two days after it happened. Jongdae helped you take a shower for as far as it was possible with wounds and gauzes and everything, and he was brushing your hair now, much to your dismay. “Stop pulling!” you whined, your voice much better now. He laughed, “I’m not pulling it!” “You are! Oh my god. Stop it! Ah!” you used your good hand to reach for the brush but he held it out of your grip. “Dae, give me the brush!” There was a mischievous glint in his eyes and you almost felt it coming. “I could always come and ask Kyungsoo to do it. I’m sure he’ll be really careful with you.” He winked. You just rolled your eyes and let him continue the agony that was hair brushing. “He was so worried about you, you should’ve seen him.” “I did, I was conscious. I also remember you taking of my jeans, and winking at me, while i was practically dying.” He scoffed. “Oh drama queen, you weren’t even close to dying. Stop all the self pity.” There was still the soft colouring of a bruise on his cheekbone from here Lay punched him. But you didn’t ask, you didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You had told yourself that the problem was with him, and not with you, and he needed to solve it himself. “Is this your way of bonding?” Xiumin said, walking into the room. You hadn’t seen him since that night but he seemed pretty much okay. He had his suit jacket in his hands, and his tie was loosely hanging around his neck. The first few buttons of his shirt undone. Chen laughed, and it was contagious. Even Xiumin smiled a little if your squinted. “I haven’t gotten the chance to ask you about the attack.” he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Oh yeah, ask away.” you nodded, turning your head in his direction. Which only earned you a pull on your hair from Jongdae. “Hey!” you snapped. “Keep your head straight woman.” Minseok seemed oblivious to your banter. “Did you recognise any of them?” It was something that you had thought about for the last two days. “No, not that I can think of off the top of my head. Otherwise I’d have told you immediately. But if you give me photo’s I can ask around. When I go back home.” “That’s actually what I wanted to ask you. Would you be okay to go home?” You knew why he asked you, and you couldn’t refuse. “Sure, I just might need someone to help me around the house. I’d call a friend, but if they come back I just don’t want to be alone.” you mumbled the last part, a little ashamed to let them know you were afraid of them coming back. Normally you wouldn’t care, because you can fight, but in the shape you were in right now they’d beat you to a pulp. Again. “Yeah that’s alright. I’ll send someone with you, but they might switch around from day to day. It’s just that Lay is on edge, and it’s making everyone uncomfortable. I can’t have you here right now.” “I understand, I’m sorry.” you said, and you noticed that Dae had put down the brush but was awfully quiet. You also knew that Xiumin and Chen weren’t on completely good terms to you felt the tension in the hand on your shoulder. “You know you can trust him right?” you said, not looking up at Dae, but directly at Minseok. The sharp eyed man’s gaze flickered to your best friend. “I trust him just as much as I trust you.” “I think you trust me more than you let on.” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest. He shrugged, and you felt Chen’s grip on your shoulder get tighter and tighter. His nail digging through your thin shirt and into your skin. Xiumin sighed.  “I trust you as much as I see fit, and the same goes for him, you know why. We’ve had the discussion, and I don’t like to repeat myself.” He stood up and walked towards the door. You took a leap of faith. “You have a new ring. Black diamond, sterling silver, left forefinger. It’s a men’s ring, but you have small hands so it doesn’t fit properly. Which is why you put it on the bottom. You never mentioned you were working on something, but you’ve been busy. Wearing a suit more often than not. Suho seems busy too, you’re planning something. And you’re not involving the rest, maybe Yixing.” He stopped, and turned around, Chen stepping from your back to your side. Away from Xiumin. With an arched eyebrow he stepped closer to you, staring you down. “What are you trying to say?” You shrugged, and it hurt your side. “How can they trust you when they don’t know what you’re doing half of the time.” “I'm the boss.” “That doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want. You get their trust by trusting in them. They don’t owe you their trust, but they work for you. They’d walk through fire if you asked them to. Give them something in return. And I don’t mean money. Or you’ll regret it later on.” you stated, like it was the most normal thing. Relaxed, casually. He scoffed at you, shaking his head. “I’m not taking leadership advise from a rogue like you.” “Without this rogue you’d be dead meat.” “No, that’s where you’re wrong Angel. Without this rogue, they’d still be alive.” That’s when Dae lost it, he laughed forwards, pushing Xiumin back. “Take that back.” he growled, pointing at his chest. Xiumin didn’t even budge more than a step backwards to keep balance. His hands were in his pockets and he eyed him straight up. They were the same height, but if they fought Dae would loose and you knew it. “Watch it Kim Jongdae.” he said. “You know it’s not her fault, just as much as Lay does. So cut the crap and stop using it against her. She feels guilty enough as it is.” Jongdae argued, and you just wished he didn’t. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to stand up for you. But you knew it was no use and it was just going to piss Minseok off, which was exactly what you did not need right now. The leader took a deep breath, and you saw the anger in the way he moved his lips. “I’m going to let this slide. Because I don’t feel like fighting right now. But if you talk like that to me again, I will make you regret it. Do you understand?” Chen swallowed, and you saw his adam’s apple move up and down. There was fear in his stance, he was good at covering it up, but he knew he overstepped his boundaries and you recognised it in him. You couldn’t even explain what it was that you saw, but you just saw it. “Yes boss.” he answered. Minseok nodded and faced you again. “I'll send Kyungsoo with you to your place for the first few days. He’s off and needs to take a proper rest for once. Baekhyun will keep an eye around. And no, not inside your place. You’re welcome.” he said and then left. Your best friend let himself fall on the bed, running his hand through his jet black hair. His chest heaved as he sighed, and he pouted. The playful curl of his lips disappearing. “You don’t need to stand up for me like that, you know that right?” “You don’t deserve that, and you know it.” “That doesn’t make any difference to them. It’s fine I’ve accepted it.” He sat up, leaning back on his arms. “Why do you keep getting pissed at Lay then?” You clicked your tongue, chewed one of your piercings. “Because he keeps involving Jongin into the matter and it makes me sick to the stomach. He has nothing to do with this.” you mumbled. Chen came over to you now, and you stood up, ready to go home. “You told me you slept with him, with Jongin. But you’re leaving something out aren’t you?” he asked, looking at you. “It doesn’t concern you Dae.” Something you never said tot him before. You always told him everything, but not this, this was between you and Jongin. “I'm sorry.” He smiled and hugged you. “You don’t have to tell me everything. It’s okay to keep secrets. I know how close you and Jongin are, and I don’t need to pry into it.” You hugged him back, and kissed his cheek when you let him go. “Thank you.” He ran a hand through your hair, now free of knots. “You don’t have to thank me for anything. Ever”

***

Kyungsoo drove you home, and the two of you chatted about nothing really. It was nice to have a conversation about stupid things like what food is better, or what you like to eat when you’re drunk, or making bets about who would get drunk more quickly, Chen or Baekhyun. At home your windows has been repaired again, and most of the stuff had been cleaned up, the upstairs was still a mess though. Books, kitchenware, clothes were strewn everywhere. “Where if you bedroom?” he asked, picking up a pillow from the couch. You smirked. “Going straight for the important questions aren’t we?” He deadpanned you. “Can you just answer me normally for once?” “Sorry, it’s one floor up. The bedroom and bathroom are there. Kitchen and living room here, shop downstairs. It seems a bit whacky but for one person it works out. I can house two even.” you moved down to pick up book from the floor and flinched at the pull in your side. Kyungsoo was by your side quickly. “Don’t do that, you’re going to hurt yourself. I’ll try and get the stuff off the floor.” He moved you to the couch with a little protest from you, but you sat down anyways. Fractured ribs were a bitch, and you knew they healed slowly. Again another week of calling off clients and not earning jack. That was going to be good for the bills. Maybe you needed to take up online poker again. You watched him pick up some novels and sketchbooks from the floor, stacking them up and setting them on the shelves in an order that made you cringe. It couldn’t be helped though, he didn’t know where things belonged. You’d just have to put them right later on. The kitchen are wasn’t too bad, and easily found the drawer where the pants belonged. You had no utter idea what they’d though they’d find in here. There was nothing that connected you to any of them except your drawings. You could make up a fake name and they wouldn’t know. They probably didn’t even know where EXO was located or that EXO was even involved. Since they only came for D.O. which still seemed weird to you. Why would they come for him if he was just on a job. “You know, they told me, or you told me, I don’t remember. But the guy you were after the night you got attacked, was just a loan gone wrong. I still don’t understand why they attacked you.” He looked up, eyebrows raised. “Oh, yeah strikes me too.” Caught dead in the act. “You’re lying to me. Tell me the truth.” You sounded snappier than you intended but you didn’t appreciate being lied to. Kyungsoo stopped dead in his tracks, was he really this bad of a liar? “I’m not lying.” “Yes you are, I can practically smell it. Sehun told me, I remember now. So either you’re both lying or Sehun doesn’t know.” Something crossed his eyes. “He doesn’t know does he. Xiumin is keeping something from the rest. But he trusted you with it.” You got up and walked over to him. “What is he doing?” There was something in his eyes that told he really wasn’t supposed to be telling you this. He stepped back, against the counter. “I can’t tell you.” “He’s asking me to help him find them. But he knows who they are doesn’t he. Is he trying to pick a fight on purpose?” you narrowed your eyes, trying to find the confirmation in his face. He knew he was being cornered right now, and they he couldn’t lie to you. So he was actually smart not to say anything and keep the frightful look on his face. “Fine then you don’t tell me. I’ll ask him myself.” You turned to the fridge and opened it to see if there was anything useful. Some stuff had gone bad to you pushed the trashcan closer and threw away what wasn’t edible anymore. You poured the sour milk down the drain. D.O. calmed down and picked up a knife from the floor. “I want to tell you, but I don’t want to betray him.” “It’s almost like he baited you. He must’ve known there was something going on there. He shouldn’t have sent you in alone.” You grabbed chicken and some peppers that seemed to be alright. There was creme fraîche in the fridge that didn’t expire yet, and you should have some burritos somewhere. “I hope you’re okay with chicken burritos because that’s all I can make with this.” “You don’t have to cook, we can order in.” He said, touching your shoulder. You shook your head. “I don’t do take out, I always try to cook if I can.” “I didn’t expect that from you.” “Who do you think cooked for them when you were stuck in bed? Chen guilt tripped me into doing it. Remind me to never cook for 10 again. I don’t understand how you keep up.” He laughed at your comment and watched you was the vegetables and take out a chef’s knife from a block. “If you want to help you can cook the chicken on the skillet. There’s oil in the drawer below.” you pointed him in a certain direction and he followed without a word. He heated the pan and the satisfying sizzle filled the room as he dropped the pre cut chicken into the pan. You finished cutting up the vegetables and washed your hands before you turned on some music through your sound system. “You have a sound system?” he asked. You nodded, going through the rack of spices and finding what you need. “Yeah, this one is here and in the bedroom, the one in the shop is separated. It’s pretty nice, I like having music on most of the time.” “I only listen when I’m alone actually.” he said. “Sometimes I like silence.” With a teaspoon you measured off the spice you needed, memorising it from all the times you’d done it before. You handed him a small bowl. “Add this, with 100 mils of water.” You had your own spices to add through the creme for later. “Here let me add this.” playfully pushing him aside with your hip you slid in the vegetables from the cutting board. The room smelled nice now, spicy and fresh. You felt his eyes on you as you ran your fingers over the spoon to taste the sauce. There was nothing heavy about his gaze, as it lingered on your mouth when you licked your digit. Or when you felt it move up and down your body. You didn’t feel the need to comment on it either, you’d stared at him often enough and he probably had felt it. “How many piercings do you have?” he asked, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear to see all the little rings and studs there. “You can count,” you playfully winked. “Okay,” he answered, accepting the little challenge. You put a lid on the pan and turned on the oven. Then you turned to him. He counted out loud, “One, two,” In your lips. You stuck out your tongue. “Three, four.” your smiley too. His fingers touched your jaw to turn you head, and he counted till eleven on one ear, and seventeen on the other. “Okay, seventeen, seventeen.” he pointed at your nose. “Eighteen.” His eyes went down from your face to your neck, and his fingers followed his gaze, trailing down to the collar of your shirt. You cocked an eyebrow at him, and he accepted it as a green light. He pulled down your collar to reveal your collarbone piercings. “Twenty.” His eyes skimmed back up over your face, lingering at your lips a little too long. On purpose you caught your teeth on one of your piercings and smiled. “Are you done?” Kyungsoo frowned and trailed the fingers of his left hand down over your right shoulder all the way to your hand. Where he brushed over the piercing between your thumb and forefinger. “Twenty-one.” You cocked an eyebrows and grabbed his wrist, placing it on your hip. Making sure to brush his thumb against the piercing above your hipbone. His breath hitched and he moved his other hand to the same place on your other hip. He felt the piercing there and you noticed him step closer. “Twenty-three.” he breathed, almost against your lips. “Is that it?” If your side didn’t hurt you’d have reached up to touch the hairs at the nape of his neck, skim your fingers through them. To touch the spot where the longer red started, and mess it up a little. But you didn’t. “I have a total of Twenty-four.” He frowned and took a moment to count in his head, you saw it by the way his eyes flickered to your ears and still slightly exposed collarbones. Then his gaze dropped lower, to your bellybutton and he moved his hand to run his fingers down, coming to rest at the top of your jeans. There was nothing there, you were never the type for a piercing like that. He pulled you closer by hooking his fingers into your jeans, his fingers separated from your skin by the thing fabric of your T-shirt. “You have one down there, don’t you?” He said, breath fanning over your cheek. You hummed in return. “You’ll just have to keep searching to find out.” With a shake of his head he leant down, and you felt his lips brush against yours just as the oven went off. “Food's calling,” you whispered. Swiftly, you stepped out of his embrace and opened the oven, a wave of heat hitting your face. “Are you still playing me?” he asked as you stepped up to the pan and lifted off the lid. You however didn’t expect him to press you up against the counter. Softly, you pressed back against him, leaning into his chest. “I remember telling you there are no breaks in this game. Plus, we don’t want the food to burn now do we?” He shook his head and laughed, tipping this head down and you felt his hair brush against your ear. “Okay, let me help then.” The two of you put the chicken and sauce in the burritos, set them on a tray and topped them with cheese. You set plates and cutlery on the kitchen island table, and poured water into glasses. “So tell me.” he said, sitting down on one of the stools. “Have you tattooed and pierced all of us?” You sat down too and leant back a little, crossing your legs. “Yes, every single one of you. I don’t think any of you have tattoos that I didn’t do. Except for the one on your chest, the star.” Over his heart he had a small star tattoo, it was a simple outline but you'd seen it when you did his back and shoulders. “That means you did Suho’s…” he paused. “Dick piercing?” he said questioningly, not sure how to voice it. As if it was the most normal thing in the world you nodded. “Yeah, he took it well though. I’ve had guys faint on me before with much less painful ones. Chanyeol almost threw up.” He chocked on his water, coughing. “What?” “Chanyeol, when I pierced him. He got a pain rush and almost threw up. It was sad honestly, I don’t see the point of getting your dick pierced anyways.” “You pierced Chanyeol’s too?” “And Xiumin’s.” The oven dinged and you got up while he still looked at you with wide eyes. “Remember my off-“ “I don’t need you to pierce mine too.” he cut you off, a little rudely. And you wondered why, was he jealous or something. Or just prude. “Does that mean you don’t want me specifically to do it, or just not in general.” You asked, as you sat down the tray in the middle of the table and took off the oven mittens. Both of you took two rolls and you scraped the extra cheese of the edge. He took a bite but didn’t answer you. “Not answering my question makes you all the more suspicious.” you said, taking a bite yourself. It tasted good, maybe could’ve used a bit more spice and a little less salt but it was nice. Through five years of living by yourself you had learned to cook a lot of things with the same ingredients. So that you could cook different things each day as much as possible. You weren’t a big fan of scraps. Still he didn’t reply, eating in silence. You looked at him, narrowing your eyes. As if on cue, he looked up at you, eyes holding a dark glint. He licked excess sauce of his fingers, tongue darting out between full lips to run over the pad of his digit. Then licked his lips, and has the nerve to smirk afterwards. The fucker. You tried your best to go back to your food and eat like nothing happened. He spoke up when your plate was empty. “Angel, I want to ask you something and I want you to answer me honestly.” You frowned, he sounded serious. “Okay?” “How long have you known Jongdae?” The question spiked something in you. “Mutually? Or known off him.” “Does that make a difference?” he asked and you knew he was now suspicious of something. “I know a lot of people who don’t know me.” “Then both.” You doubted, and played with the piercing on your hand. Traced the lines of your tattoos. “I’ve known about him for about six years now. We’ve known each other for about three and a half, four years now.” Please let him not jump to conclusions about this. His eyes looked into yours and you knew he couldn’t see anything, that your face was a hundred percent straight. But you felt the fear. “So you knew him before he joined?” “Yes, he joined about three years ago, few months before Jongin did.” Kyungsoo was silent after that, as he grabbed the plates and cutlery and set them in the sink to wash them. Adding soap and warm water as if it was his own place. “I told you not to worry about them.” you said, coming up beside him and drying off the plates. He sat his hands on the sink, leaning down. “I know. That’s not it. It’s just…It’s nothing never mind.” You touched his shoulder, running your hand down his back. He was warm, and firm and…”Tell me.” He sighed and turned to you. “Is it a coincidence that Lay and Xiumin both don’t get along with you and Chen, and that you’ve known him from before he joined?” Before you could stop it your breath hitched, and you knew he caught something in your eyes, because he mirrored it back at you. You opened your mouth and closed it, not looking away from him. Fear, you could smell your own fear right now. Why does this scare you, it shouldn’t. It definitely shouldn’t. “Say something.” he whispered, like he was afraid that you’d say something bad. You took a deep breath and mumbled; “I can’t talk about this with you.”

@oh-beyond @mylordae @chenbootysoo @bootyfulohsehun @nunchiwrites @damn-jongdae-slay @ruke-pammant @xingtrash @i-am-foyo @littlekatlizzy @thawingsnowwolf @starswithlyrics @kpopmafiaaus @kaori-yuki-chan @sherbatchan @yoongi-insfires-me @thickdicksuho @kuristo @hyamori @reginag02 @melyyexo @i-learned-thatfromthepizzaman

[bromfieldhall]

What Makes You Beautiful - A Mentalist Fanfiction

TIMELINE: Set some in the future after series four finale. Minor spoilers.

SYNOPSIS: “Yesterday I made a New Year’s resolution. I’m going to give myself one whole year to woo and win the love of California Bureau of Investigation’s Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon.”

PAIRING: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon

Previous Chapters: 1

CHAPTER 2

"You're turning heads when you walk through the door,"

~ What Makes You Beautiful ~ 1D

February 3rd – 8.30pm

I hate charity auctions.

Especially one such as this, which is nothing more than a PR stunt to promote the California state police departments. Some middle-aged fool from the AG's office sporting a paunch and a God complex decided that relations between the Sacramento elite and local law enforcement needed to be vastly improved and here we are.

Each department is supplying one person to be a 'lot' for the evening.

Don't get me wrong, although I dislike charity auctions in general, I'm perfectly happy with the part where they actually raise money for a good cause. It's just the whole over the top razzmatazz that the organisers feel should go with it. Personally, I'd rather they came around with a box and we all put in what money we can spare. Maybe have a free glass of nice wine and go home. Why does there have to be a full on social gathering?

Better yet, why don't they just use the obscene amount of money they've obviously spent on this shindig and give that to their chosen charity instead?

I look around. There's a smattering of law enforcement officers and officials schmoozing the usual politicians and businessmen and women. Then you've got the people who were born to their wealth who are only here because it's their 'duty'. They don't particularly like mixing with us mere mortals, they do it simply because they think it makes them look good.

Those are the people I dislike the most. The rich fat cats with too much time and too much money. Full of their own self-importance. Never done an honest day's work in their life. They irk me.

They also remind me of me many years ago.

True, I worked for a living but I'd hardly call it honest.

I used to be just like them. Thought I had it all. Thought I was better than everyone else. Not a care in the world. Like, somehow, my celebrity status and all the wealth that came with it meant that nothing bad could ever touch me because of who I was and what I did.

I was such an arrogant fool. And I paid for it dearly. Am still paying for it, because my guilt will never completely go away. I deserve that.

I saunter around the hall catching snippets of other people's inane conversations and find myself drowning in the quagmire of never-ending tedium.

And I've only been here ten minutes.

I look around, searching for Lisbon. I'm only here because she specifically told me not to come. I mean, please…that's tantamount to a red flag to a bull. How could I not turn up?

After all these years you'd think she'd know that I never do what she's says, but she still keeps trying to order me about. It's sweet. Really.

I'm guessing she thought I'd actually listen this time because ever since our little…altercation over the Carlton case a few weeks ago, I've been noticeably behaving myself better. But that's work…this is personal. Doesn't count.

The sound of an obviously fake laugh draws my attention and I turn to see a man surrounded by a group of women. Speak of the devil…

Senator Carlton is holding court and clearly very much over the 'pain' of losing his dearly, departed wife to her murderous lover not four weeks ago. He sickens me. And he looks like a toad.

He catches my eye and scowls. It's not surprising. I did apologise to him as I said I would…it's just that nobody told me I had to make it sound sincere. Lisbon wasn't very happy with me but she didn't get suspended which is the main thing. After all, it's not her fault I can be a jerk sometimes. I can't be expected to change overnight, now can I?

Besides, I know full well that she spoke to him afterwards and smoothed everything over. He certainly walked out of the CBI a far happier man than he entered it. Lisbon does tend to have that effect on people…when she puts her mind to it.

I turn away from the odious individual and continue my perusal of the room. I notice that Cho is nursing a drink alone at the bar. I raise my glass of sparkling water and he gives me a nod of acknowledgement back. He is the nominated 'lot' from our team tonight. He's offering to teach basic self-defence to the lucky winner. I know he's been dreading getting up on stage. He's not one for the limelight is our Cho.

I scan the rest of the room and find Rigsby staring at the few couples that are making use of the dance floor. The pinched look on his face resembles one of a child who has had his favourite toy taken away but is determined not to cry.

When I check out the dancers I understand why. Van Pelt, who looks lovely this evening, is being whirled around the floor by a rather tall, rather handsome young man who, judging by his slightly dazed expression, can't quite believe his luck. It's obvious he's wishing that she were up for auction this evening.

I feel sorry for Risgby and Grace, they were good together. And now that he has long split up with Sarah, they could still be good together…if CBI rules allowed. I'm pretty sure that if they decided to take up their romance again, Lisbon wouldn't interfere this time. She'd let them be. They both deserve a little happiness after what they've been through.

Don't we all?

Speaking of which…I still can't see Lisbon anywhere. She's usually prompt to the point of being too early. But not tonight it seems. Odd.

I take a sip of my water and think back over the past month with a smile. Things are…better between us. I like to think almost back to normal now, but I was wrong before and so I'm being extra cautious. Keeping it light. Baby steps. Trying to get back to what we were before Lorelei's presence ruined everything. It's taking some time, but I truly believe that we will get there. I have to, for both our sakes.

Naturally, this delays my resolution somewhat. I can't attempt to go forward until we're back to where we started. It's frustrating, but necessary and as I told Lisbon a few weeks ago…I'm a patient man.

The song that's playing comes to an end and the auctioneer for the evening steps up to the mike. I don't recognise him and forget his name before he's even finished introducing himself.

Everyone moves to either find a seat or stand on the dance floor in readiness for the main event. The auction begins but everything is just background noise as I'm beginning to feel a little concerned that I can't find Lisbon. I walk over to where Cho is getting up from his barstool. It's his turn soon.

"Have you seen, Lisbon?" I ask, still scouring the hall.

He nods his head. "Yeah."

I wait for him to continue but when it's obvious that he's not going to be more forthcoming, I query irritably, "Well? Where is she?"

"Around," is his brief reply.

His evasive answer tells me that something is up. I don't know if it's to do with work or whether it's personal but all the same, it bothers me a little that Lisbon obviously chose to bring him in on it and not me.

"Where around, exactly?" I press, watching his impassive face for a glimmer of a clue.

Cho shrugs but doesn't reply. Instead he opts for classic avoidance. "So, what are you doing here? I thought the boss told you not to come?"

"Oh, she did," I concede with a smile. "I thought it'd be a nice surprise."

He snorts and looks away. "Yeah, wouldn't bet on that."

I'm about to ask him outright what the hell's going on when something the auctioneer says catches my ear. "Did he just say Lisbon's name?" I ask in amazement.

"Yeah."

I'm confused. "But I thought you were the one up for auction."

"I was, but when I got here tonight Lisbon told me that the plans had changed."

My puzzlement grows. "Why?"

I finally feel as though I'm going to get to the truth of the matter when Cho sighs and looks a little uncomfortable. "I don't know for certain but he has something to do with it," he tells me.

He nods towards the crowd of people on the dance floor and I grow tense when I see Senator Carlton making his way to the front.

"He came over when Lisbon was here and made…comments," Cho continues, looking a little angry now.

"Comments?" I repeat incredulously, feeling my own hackles rise at the thought of what the other man might have said.

"Comments," Cho confirms, his top lip curling up in distaste.

Why, that rotten, son of a…

The desire to defend Lisbon's honour surges through me like a tidal wave and my hands clench at my sides as I run through all the possible ways to inflict pain on the self-absorbed ass. I know I could get away with it and I'm pretty certain Cho would help.

"I asked her about it when he left and she just said that it was a small price to pay to keep you around," he concludes, a hint of accusation in his eyes.

I feel like I've just been punched in the gut and my anger rises anew. I don't have to be a mentalist to know that Carlton has somehow turned my foolish behaviour to his advantage. Apparently Lisbon has saved me yet again but it's not her job on the line this time, it's her self-respect instead. And I absolutely cannot let her do that for me.

I catch sight of Lisbon walking quickly onto the stage and my breath catches. She is stunning. The unassuming black dress accentuates her figure perfectly. It's sexy in an artless kind of way that's very appealing. All the other men in the hall seem to agree as the hush that had descended when she appeared dissipates into eager murmuring when the auctioneer announces that the winning bidder will enjoy an evening with Teresa including dinner at a place of her choice.

Carlton opens the bidding at two thousand dollars.

It's been the highest amount all evening of that I'm sure. I doubt anyone will raise him, which I assume is his intention, and I notice Lisbon's face take on a look of resignation. She smiles, trying to cover it up trooper that she is, but I can still see it. See what she's willing to sacrifice. And I bet she's even convinced herself that something positive is coming out of all this in that the charity will benefit from the money.

My Saint Teresa.

I walk towards Carlton and feel Cho following close behind, probably trying to ensure I don't do anything stupid. With no other bids forthcoming, the auctioneer begins to wrap up the 'lot' as I come to a stop beside the senator.

"Three thousand dollars," I say loudly, just before the man with the gavel can say, 'gone'. Lisbon looks understandably shocked when she hears my voice and then her mouth tightens in annoyance as she sees me standing next to Carlton.

The senator turns to look at me with a frown and I grin back at him. Gauntlet thrown down.

"Four thousand dollars," he bids, his eyes daring me to counter.

"Five," I offer, almost immediately.

The senator starts to get a red hue to his cheeks and leans towards me. "Back off, Mr. Jane, or you can say goodbye to your job," he says quietly through gritted teeth in what I guess he thinks is a threatening tone. He's an amateur compared to Lisbon.

To my surprise, Cho walks around me and stands in front of Carlton, arms folded. "Is that a threat, Senator?" he asks matter-of-factly. "Because it sure sounded like one from where I was standing."

"Going once," I hear the auctioneer call.

"From here too," says Rigsby suddenly appearing on the senator's other side looking grim.

"Going twice," the auctioneer calls a second time.

Carlton turns an even brighter shade of scarlet and I begin to think he might actually explode. "I'll have all your jobs for this," he hisses angrily before turning and walking away.

"Sold to Mr…?"

"Jane," I reply. "Patrick Jane."

The auctioneer smiles and indicates for Lisbon to leave the stage. She looks absolutely livid and heads straight for us, her eyes practically shooting flames.

"Uh-oh," murmurs Rigsby apprehensively.

I can understand his concern. "You two go, I'll handle it," I say, grateful for their intervention and wishing to give them a reprieve. They don't need telling twice and I'm quickly left alone to face Lisbon's wrath.

"What the hell was that?" she demands to know as she comes to a stop right in front of me.

I can sense her barely contained rage so naturally I have to push it. "You're welcome," I reply with a grin.

"Jane," she says, the warning clear.

"It's fine, Lisbon. Don't worry," I dismiss with a wave of my hand. "We merely persuaded Senator Carlton not to bid for you, that's all."

"Oh, God," she groans as she closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. "I'm going to get suspended, aren't I?"

I raise my hand and take hold of hers, gently pulling it away from her face. She opens those amazing green eyes and I shake my head. "He won't bother you again, trust me," I tell her and I'm pleased to feel her relax a little.

She stares at me and I know she's trying to figure out what happened but in the end she just accepts it and lets out a little sigh. She looks down at our joined hands and I'm disappointed, but not surprised, when she pulls hers away. "I need a drink," she mutters, walking off towards the bar.

I follow and stand beside her when she perches on one of the stools. I order her a drink and get myself another water.

"You know you're going to have to pay for this, don't you?" she says seriously.

I'm not quite sure what she's talking about and glance at our drinks in perplexity. "I thought it was a free bar."

She looks a little self-conscious. "Not the drinks…I meant the auction…you know…me."

It's adorable the way she stumbles over her explanation. And the rosy hue that invades her face is far more becoming than the vermilion disaster that was Carlton.

"Oh, that," I say with a shrug of my shoulders. "I can afford it. Besides, you're worth it."

I deliberately keep my tone offhand but it pleases me to note that the colour deepens on her smooth cheeks. It's obvious she doesn't know what to say and I'm content to let the silence continue between us as she, no doubt, ruminates on all the possible meanings.

I know I said I'm taking baby steps but even an infant needs a gentle push sometimes in order for it to stand. Right?

A short, sweaty man walks over carrying a clipboard then thrusts it towards me with a pen and asks for my signature by way of confirming that I've won…Lisbon.

I fill out all the details and hand it back to him while I watch the auction conclude with complete disinterest. All my senses are attuned to the woman sitting quietly next to me. I know there are things she wants to ask me. There are things I want to say, but it's too soon. She's not ready.

The band take up their positions on stage. The lights dim slightly, taking the edge of the harsh lighting just enough to give the room a romantic ambience and they begin to play. It's a slow song and I can't resist holding out my hand for hers.

"Will you dance with me?" I ask with my most persuasive grin.

She hesitates for a second then smiles and places her hand in mine. I lead her onto the dance floor and can't stop my sigh of satisfaction as I take her in my arms. She rests her head on my shoulder and I gather her in closer, chest against chest, thighs brushing thighs, our bodies moving easily together as if we've danced this way many, many times before.

"So," she says, finally breaking her silence and lifting her head to look at me. "Where are you going to take me for dinner?"

I gaze down at her and smile. "I thought that was your choice."

She shakes her head. "I made that a condition so that Carlton couldn't take me back to his place," she admits, confirming to me what I'd already suspected.

"I knew you'd set this whole thing up," I say with a shake of my head. "Please promise me you won't do anything like this again, Lisbon. I'm not worth it."

"You are, Jane, because you close cases. I need you on my team."

No matter how much I love holding her like this, I really want to shake the infernal woman for trotting out that same old excuse again. She's said it for so long now that I think she's actually starting to believe it's true.

"Besides, I had everything planned," she adds with a sudden smile that catches me off guard. "I knew when I told you not to come tonight you wouldn't listen. I didn't think you'd actually bid for me but I knew that if Cho said the right things, I could count on you to do something so that Carlton wouldn't win."

She looks so happy that her little scheme has worked, I can't find it within myself to be upset that she conned me in such a way. Turnabout is fair play after all.

"I'm impressed," I say letting my admiration to show. "Plus, the charity gets a nice little donation out of it. Win, win situation all round."

"It is," she replies, still grinning. "And it was nice to finally get one over on you for a change."

"Oh, you did," I admit as the music comes to an end and I reluctantly release my hold. "Apart from one little thing."

She pulls away with a frown. "And what's that?" she asks dubiously.

I reach out then take her hand and look deeply into her eyes as I raise it slowly to my lips. Holding her gaze, I press a soft kiss to the back of her hand. Her skin is warm and I find myself lingering there far longer than I should when her mouth drops open a little and I hear her sharp intake of breath.

I eventually pull back with a smile, my lips still tingling from the tender contact. Keeping hold of her hand, I lean in closer. I hear her breathing hitch anew as I bring my mouth to her ear and whisper dryly, "Cho stepped in too early, I would have paid double."

I hear her gasp of surprise as I pull back and grin. I give her hand a light squeeze then release it before I turn to walk away, but she stops me.

"Wait, what about dinner?" she asks, that wonderful blush back on her perfect cheeks.

"No rush, Lisbon. You can choose when you're ready. Or not. Just let me know. I'll be waiting."

I leave her on the dance floor staring after me in confusion. I enjoy keeping her off kilter and quite honestly, if I don't leave her now I'll do more than just kiss her on the hand.

I make my way outside and to my car and I can't help but think that maybe charity auctions aren't such a bad thing after all.

END CHAPTER 2

[datingadviceonreddit]

I [20/M] had been together with my ex for 10 months. I have broken up with her 2 months ago. She [23/F] was my first partner ever, I loved her more than anything. Since then, there are questions torturing me, I fear that it was my fault that the relationship went wrong. For some times, we had a wonderful time together, but often it suddenly changed to disaster. I would like you to take a glampse at the main problematic situations that I'm going to list, I would be delighted with your opinions on either my or my ex and on how it went wrong.She would always be very furious when I did something wrong. She would mock me, call me names and be very aggressive and cynical. I am a calm person, and quite rational, and I've never done such things to her. I would listen to her, and I tried to find a solution. After she cooled off (about 1-2hours-1day) we could somehow get a solution, but it was always giving up myself, because she wouldn't compromise. I always tried to talk things out, but she refused to do so at the end, because she thought that is was useless, as it "doesn't do anything".At the beginning of our relationship, she was mad at me, because she introduced me to 2 friends of hers when I escorted her home from a party I was not invited to, but it took me more time to introduce her to one of mine, because I'm not that social, and I wanted to introduce her when we meet some of my friends on the street for example, I didn't go to parties for a while. She couldn't understand this, that it's not on purpose, and I have no bad intentions. She was also very upset, that I was friendly with her friends, as if I'm "trying to get too close to them". For example, I added them on facebook, and she was mad for this. Eventually, we met with my friend, and I introduced her to them.She was mad at me that I didn't invite her to my dormitory. She was once up in my room, but she found it too messy and disguting, so later on, I didn't invite her to that place. But she got upset because of this, as I had a female friend (Mary) in the dorm, and we seldom spent time together there.Mary didn't like my gf, and my gf didn't like Mary. Mary didn't want to get to know her, and my gf said she didn't trust Mary, and she wants me to cut ties. I wanted to keep both of them (Mary and gf), so I wanted to give it time, and make them meet. Maybe because of this I seemed a little shady. But my gf feared, that Mary would interfere with the relationship, and she would do harm. I didn't even spend a lot of time with her, just at some classes, because I dedicated all my freetime to my gf. Nevertheless, I gave in, and I cut ties with her.She was upset about me being helpful and polite to other girls. For example, I held the door for them, or I picked something up for them if it fell down. She couldn't realise, that I help everyone, not just girls, because I always try to be useful. I helped my gf a lot too. Like paying a lot of things to her, getting anything she desired or needed, food, expensive gifts, medications, I comforted her during hard times, I sacrificed all my time to make her even a bit happier, etc, which I wouldn't do for anyone. She was also mad at me when I brought back a girl her gloves she lost, because I "run after other girls". I just didn't want this random person (who was a girl by accident) to lose her leather gloves.She wanted to break up, because she said I behave deceitfully. It is true that I always try to avoid conflicts, and I even try to be kind and polite to the ones I don't really like, but of course I have my opinion on them. She believed that this is not normal, and she freaked out, that I am false.Last summer (at 3 moths into relationship) we went partying, and we were a half drunk. We went to an open-style strip club (where the stripper is almost on the street). I pinched 3 dollars into the side of her panties. Later I confessed this, and she again beleived that I cheated on her.Some time ago, I had zero self-confidance. I have a roommate, who is gay, and he really likes me (like finds me sexy). I didn't know how to handle this situation, and it was a pretty good feeling before I got to know my ex gf that someone finds me sexy, and although I'm not gay, he convinced me to send him nudes. The last nude I sent was when we had been dating for a month with my gf. Later, I confessed this to her, and her reaction didn't surprise me. She believed I cheated on her, and thought that if she sent nudes to some straight guy, it would be the same. I know that I'm not gay, I was just lacking self-confidence, and this was a not-so-good way to build it up. She wanted me to go to a psychologist, so "I can figure out if I'm gay". I find some men attractive, but I dont find anything attractive in having anything sexual with men, I know that I'm not gay. Nevertheless I went to the psychologist.There was an occasion, when one of my old female acquaintances messaged while we were on a trip with my gf. It was like "hey, it's been a while talking to you, how are you?". I told this to my gf, and she was furious. She tried to make up parallel situations, like how would I feel if she met with the guy that tried to flirt with her. When we got home, she said that she breaks up, and that she can't handle this anymore. She didn't answer the phone that day, and I went into deep depression mode. After a few days, I told this acquaintance of mine all my problems about my gf, but I remained loyal to her, I even defended her in some topics. Later on, my gf contacted me, that she overreacted, and wants to continue. She asked me whether I had talked to this girl about our problems via text. I lied to her, that I hadn't. I confessed my lie to her 2 weeks after this, as I couldn't keep it inside, and she fell out of love with me. She said I betrayed her. I talked to the girl about the problem "who was the problem". She said, she wanted to cheat on me physically in exchange in her anger.I lied when I got suicidal thoughts because of the love for her, and cut wounds into my hand, I was very desperate. When she asked me what those were, I lied about them, but it was obvious, so she lost her temper again, and was very angry that I lied to her. She says she is broking up with me, but later she phoned me that she wants to stay by me, but I need a therapist.I also lied to her when I was at their place for the first time, and her brother made a very inappropriate joke about her, and I tried to make the matter of the joke myself, as a kind of evasive action, and we laughed it off. She was not present there. She asked later what was the laughung all about, and I said that it was just frustrated laughing, I didn't hear what her brither said. Turns out she actually knew what it was about, and she was angry again that I lied to her.I met with Mary in the summer, while we agreed not to meet opposite-sex friends one-on-one in "date like scenarios". I couldn't find a way to meet her with other persons, so I met with her nevertheless. I wasn't romantically interested in her, and nothing happenned, we were just talking and having a caffee. Later my gf confessed, that she met her ex in summer, as he was her friend, and she needed some emotional support when we were in an argument. She asked if I had met with Mary, but I lied, because I knew she would be angry. But I later confessed it, and she was not happy of course.I also lied about my virginity at the beginning of the relationship. I was so ashamed being a virgin, that I said I have been with a girl once. She showed some understanding, but later she came up with it a few times, so she held a grudge.I talked to her about my ex-crush at the beginning of the relationship, and that I'm so glad that she (my gf) loves me and that my love is reciprocated, and it feels so good and clear, because I was desperate with that girl, and there was that thick, rose-coloured cloud, but not with my gf, and I really loved that. She resented me, because she belived I love her less than I loved this girl if our love is not that confusing, like it was with the ex crush. As this ex crush is my classmate, I had classes together with her, but I tried to remain neutral to her. I had to confess every damn moment when we were in the same class or when we had to wok together. Later, we talked about sexual fantasies. I didn't want to talk about this, but she insisted, she was very stubborn. She kinda interrogated me. She got it out of me, that I fantasize about other women, also about this ex crush, and she wanted to break up again. She said that she also fantasizes about other men, but not that frequently like I had described, and it had "disgusted her".The end came, when we talked about opposite sex friends. She has a lot of them, even exes. She rarely has female friends. I only had Mary, but I broke it off with her, so I didn't have any. I talked about what if I had a female friend, and it was the regular reaction, she was full of anger. She said she doesn't want me to talk to other girls just only when it is necessary. She said that if I loved her, that request wouldn't be much. But I felt it was like in a prison, and I broke up with her.I feel sometimes that I made a lot of mistakes, and that it was my fault that we broke up. I never critisized her, I always tried to support her, I tried to give her everything, even if it was sacrificing some values in order to gain peace, because she couldn't compromise. I tried to own up my mistakes, I even owned up some which I hadn't done. She hardly ever recognised her own mistakes in the realtionship. I assimilate with her values, or it is done. We couldn't find a common way, which is good for both of us, it was only good for her. I feel great regret, as I left her in grave times, her mother is terminally ill, and I also really got to love their parents.I fear that it was all my mistake. What do you think? Sorry for the long post, but I had to write it down.Thank youtl;dr.: I made some mistakes, and my gf couldn't understand me although I tried to give her everything. I wonder if the breakup was my fault. via /r/dating_advice