a pattern to be repeated later in life

Visited, or Visitors? (a weird college story)

So this is my own Weird College Shit story and requires some set up. I had my first year of college in 2009-10, and I spent it at a tiny school in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by farms. The nearest major city was about three hours drive away. The small town I lived in was literally built around the college. My apartment was to the east of school grounds, and my high school best friend (we’ll call her Elise) was in the dorms on the opposite side of campus.

Elise was heavily involved in the drama department. I was in the improv troupe, but my depression and social anxiety meant I was more of an outlier than a “true” drama kid at the college. (They tended to devote all their time and energy to whatever play was happening at the given time and I just… couldn’t.) As a result, while Elise was invited to every drama department-hosted get together in existence, I only found out when she asked if I wanted to go along.

It was Halloween and while most of the college students were at a huge party being held at an apartment as far from campus as possible in this Nowheresville of a town, one of the seniors in the drama department had rented out the black box theatre for the night. Dress code was 1920s and 1940s, and they’d hired a few members of the school’s junior jazz band for live music.

Elise forgot to tell me until the day of the party. As a result, while her hair and make up were perfect and she was dressed in a pretty, beaded and fringed dress from a play she’d done in junior high, along with a faux fur coat borrowed from the props department for the occasion, I had nothing era-appropriate. I ended up going in my clubbing clothes - a mini black dress, a leather jacket, skull-print stockings, and my knee-high, PVC bitch boots. (The heavy jewelry and black lipstick was just a required addition at that point.)

Please keep in mind that neither of us had anything to drink that night, so everything that happened hereafter was while we were both stone cold sober.

We arrived late, only to find we weren’t really welcome. Everyone was acting… off. (We found out later that one of Elise’s “friends” had been spreading ugly rumors about her, jealous that Elise had gotten a part for which they had both tried out.) When we approached folks to say hello, they were polite but talked over any of our attempts to join in their conversations. It was awkward and uncomfortable, and at the time we had no clue why, which was aggravating. Despite the party going to till 2 AM, the pair of us decided to call it a night after half an hour, heading back to Elise’s around 11 PM.

Despite never talking about it,  the deal whenever we went somewhere late was always that I would get Elise back to her dorm room, then call her as soon as I got to my apartment. (Neither of us had a car, and of us two I was the paranoid one who carried a knife and pepper spray, and had no problem telling people who were creeping me out to fuck off or being willing to actually dial the local police dispatch number if my instincts started screaming.)

We were walking through the middle of the deserted campus on the way to Elise’s, when we passed the bell tower. (Just to clarify, the “tower” is actually three open blocks built of bricks, the first one five-by-five across, and the same in height. Each block was progressively smaller, stacked on top of one another with four clocks set into the sides of the top block, all showing the same time.) What caught my attention was the three people sitting in the open space underneath. They seemed about our age, but I didn’t recognize any of them. Two guys and one girl, all wearing beanies, light coats, and flip flops despite the cold. (It was low-30s Fahrenheit, or 0-2° C.)

One of them had a bongo drum. He was keeping a beat, while the other two traded lines of improvised poetry.

I slowed down enough to figure out what they were saying. Elise was shivering, but I was wearing more layers than her so I didn’t feel the chill as strongly. Before I knew what I was doing, I’d plopped myself down beside the trio and pulled Elise onto my lap, wrapping my arms around her to keep her warm.

I nodded to the last person to speak - the girl. The three of them were staring at us, but eventually she repeated the last line she’d said, and I responded with a new line.

We went back and forth, from me to the girl to me to the boy, and around again. Bongo Guy started to up the speed of his beat pattern with each turn. I can’t repeat a single line from the entire time now, and only have a distant memory of feeling lightheaded and high. (A few days later when I asked Elise about it, she told me our words were about the moon and old gods and eternity vs the human life span. She said she’d been surprised and caught up in the whole thing until she didn’t care that she was freezing her ass off.)

This went on until the bell above us started to chime the time - 12 AM. I was suddenly aware of how bad Elise was trembling from the night air, and the cold I’d been ignoring came creeping up my body. I finished a pair of rhyming lines as I stood and helped Elise to her feet, then gave the trio a little bow. (I was in a traveling Shakespeare troupe in high school. You don’t finish a verse of poetry without a bow. It’s Just Not Done.) I wished them “a lovely All Hallow’s” and goodnight. They nodded and stayed seated.

I got Elise to her dorm then headed for my apartment. On the way, I passed by the bell tower again. The three people were no longer there.

No names were exchanged that night, and in the two semesters Elise and I were at the school, neither of us saw them on campus or in the town before we left the school.

My favorite part about the whole thing is that from my perspective, these three modern beatniks were strange and possibly magic. But from their point of view, what did me and Elise seem like? Two girls you don’t recognize (one wearing a flapper dress, and one looking like she just walked out of a 90s goth club) invite themselves into your poetry circle on Halloween, three days before a full moon. One of them matches you, line for line, for nearly an hour. And as soon as the clock strikes Midnight, they leave. You never see them again.


“I can never go home”

So I re-watched the pilot today and it not only made me realize once more why I fell in love with the show, but also made me feel such glee about the way SPN used to be filmed (actually on film), how much symbolism was put into each shot, the shadow-light-play, all the gorgeous and telling angles and frames and silhouettes shots.

Most of all though, going back to the roots of SPN, it also gave me a few thoughts in relation to S12, because the pilot and the story of the “Woman in White” of course has always served as a mirror and parallel to Mary and the Winchesters’ story, Mary is the other “Woman in White” introduced and killed in the first episode of the show, but unlike and in direct opposition her life isn’t taken by the element of water but fire (a theme and pattern that gets revisited in 1x03 “Dead in the Water” with Lukas as a Dean mirror losing his father to the element of water).

Now, the most important aspect however is the catch phrase of Constance:

“I can never go home”

Not only in this episode it is repeated and replayed in various forms, like for example Dean telling Sam that he’s going to “take him home” at the end of the episode, but it is also a huge “red flag” as such, because Dean later in S1 admits that he swore himself that he’d never go back to Lawrence, which basically accounts to him “never going home”, because the memories simply are much too painful.

Now, the important and interesting bit to keep in mind here is Constance’s story and how she came to be a “Woman in White”. Suffering from temporary insanity due to her husband not being faithful to her, killed her children and after that killed herself, thus becoming a ghost unable to ever “go home” out of fear of her children and not being able to face them, because of what she did to them.

If you think back on this detail and how Mary herself is a “Woman in White” and also returned in S12 as a “Woman in White” (and with that also as a death omen), then you know why Mary won’t stay with her kids, why she flees from them. She can “never go home”, “be home”, because as she says herself in 12x02 “Mamma Mia” “she started all of this” and in that episode she openly lets Dean know that she doesn’t know how she could face Sam knowing what happened to him with Azazel. Mary is on the run, she has been all throughout S12, on the run from her kids, but much more than that herself, her conscience. And even though unlike Constance she didn’t drown her kids, both of her sons died (multiple times) due to her death and how/why she died.

The one who sees the “Woman in White” - a death omen - and takes her home pays that journey with his life and well, given that Dean was the one in the season premiere to tell his mom that he’d “get her home”, that doesn’t bode well for him at all… The big difference between Dean and any of those other random victims of Constance is that he wasn’t unfaithful, his heart is pure, so maybe that will make all the difference in the world in the end and will see Dean come out of this stronger than before.

Irene, Mary, Eurus - A Pattern

There is an interesting pattern in the show that is repeated over and over again. Let’s start with Irene:

She drugs Sherlock, beats him with a riding crop, sells him out to Moriarty. Sherlock forgives her and saves her at the peril of his own life. They seem to remain in friendly text contact. 

Then there is Mary:

She shoots Sherlock, later drugs him in order to escape. Sherlock saves her from Magnussen at the peril of his own life. They remain best of friends. 

And then we have Eurus. 

She kills Sherlock’s best friend and draws pictures in which Sherlock is killed. She shoots John, blows up Sherlock’s home (again), drugs him repeatedly, plays evil mind games with him, almost kills his best friend (again). Sherlock comforts her and visits her in prison to create a bond.  

For now I want to look at this from a non-EMP, non-symbolic POV. Let us assume for a moment that all these events are real. Then we see an emerging pattern, a cycle in which Sherlock is victimised again and again by women and ends by forgiving, saving, and helping them. What could be the reason to show us this again and again? 

I know I am walking on thin ice here but to me this pattern speaks of abuse. A helpless (drugged/injured/very young) victim who gets hurt but never acts out the rightful anger connected with this hurt. Instead the victim aka Sherlock goes to great lengths, including risking his own life, to help the women concerned. And if you regard the hospital scene with Mary in this context, it gets even more chilling: This is a woman telling her victim to keep silent, not to tell anyone what she did to him. Which is a textbook example of abusers forcing their victims not to disclose what was done to them. 

Which brings me back to the old question: Where were the parents? What were their parts in Sherlock’s life? What about the mother who can turn “absolutely monstrous”? What about the father who is a friendly blank (we do not even know his name)? Why did Mycroft have “to be mother”? 

P.S. In an EMP context we can of course ask the same questions. Why do these things pop in reality and in Sherlock’s EMP? Why does he create an abusive sister? Is she a substitute for something else? 

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Dusty Shelves

Pairing: Sam x librarian!reader 
Characters: Sam, the reader
Warnings: light swearing, light angst, not much else! 
Summary: The reader is a librarian who spends most of her time curled up with a book in the back of the library. Sam’s on a case in her town (which also happens to be Bobby’s town), spending most of his time pouring over lore books in the very same section. Over time Sam comes back to visit his friend in Souix Falls more and more, and coincidentally starts going to the library during those visits. As he starts to notice her, hunched over a story in the way back, he finds himself more and more drawn to everything she does. Will fate tug them together, or is it just not in the cards for these two? 
Tag List: @amanda-teaches@myplaceofthingsilove@evyiione@mogaruke@aliensdeservebetter@spnfanficpond@amanda-teaches@myplaceofthingsilove@evyiione@mogaruke@aliensdeservebetter@27bmm@craving-cas @spnfanficpond@amanda-teaches  @myplaceofthingsilove  @spectaculicious@bambinovak@bambinovak@writingthingsisdifficult@padackles2010@mamaredd123@milkymilky-cocopuff @iwantthedean@zeppo-in-a-trenchcoat@spntrista @d-s-winchester@just-another-busy-fangirl@winchesterprincessbride@waywardjoy@supernaturalyobsessed@whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname@sandlee44@fangirl1802@kittenofdoomage@evyiione@winchestersmut@purgatoan@mogaruke@therewillbeblood@megansescape@taste-of-dean@leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @scarlet-soldier-in-an-impala@deathtonormalcy56@wildfirewinchester@notnaturalanahi@jensen-jarpad@impalaimagining@fangirlextraordinaire@itseverythingilike@jesspfly@lovekittykat21@mysteriouslyme81@mrswhozeewhatsis@aiaranradnay@supernatural-jackles@girl-next-door-writes@spnsasha@27bmm@spnfanficpond @amanda-teaches@myplaceofthingsilove@spectaculicious@bambinovak@writingthingsisdifficult@spn-imagines-to-feel@spn-ficfanatic@cleverdame@saxxxology@jensen-jarpad @keepcalmandcarryondean dancingpanda137

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Cozy, familiar, if not a little boring- that’s what your job was as a local librarian. You really didn’t mind the work, even if it was sometimes pointless, as long as you got to actually read the books in addition to stacking them over and over. 

In truth, that was one of the only reasons you kept the job- for a small library in Sioux Falls, the selection was really amazing. And, being as you were an employee, you had first pick on the books you wanted. 

Most of your days were spent rushing through your actual tasks that were meant to eat up time. And then, when you’d sloppily finished, you’d pour through the catalogs or curl up by a window in the back to read something you’d selected. 

Currently you were obsessed with anything by Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist in particular. Even though you’d already read the text two or three times, that didn’t stop you from reading it a fourth. 

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Instyle Magazine UK edition 2007.
Tom Hardy Vintage Interview.

HARDY BY NAME, HARDY BY NATURE – the 30-year-old actor has played an alcoholic, a petty criminal, and, this month, stars as Bill Sykes in Oliver Twist. But guess what – there is a soft side.
You’re pretty macho. Can you imagine calling yourself a metrosexual?
Is it metrosexual to get your chest waxed? I’ve got to cover up my tattoos to play Sykes, so I’m booked in to get my chest ripped up! I know I should try a bit harder to get in touch with my feminine side. I’m also told that if I fix my teeth and get a six pack [for the record, he already has one], then I’ll be a star. But I can’t be bothered.
Despite the teeth, you still managed to get a modeling contract.
I won The Big Breakfast model competition and was with Models 1 for a bit. But I soon realised my modelling career wasn’t going anywhere. What with the bow legs as well as the crooked teeth.
So modeling came before acting?
I liked to mess around and do plays as a kid, but only went to drama school after the modelling stint. I was kicked out twice.
Naughty boy! Why?
For being a little shit, basically. But luckily, that same year, I began getting work.
Tell us some on-set anecdotes.
I’ve just finished RocknRolla, Guy Ritchie’s new film. The first time I saw Madonna on set was when she was administrating a shot of B12 into Gerard Butler’s arse. I’ve had it before. It’s like a hefty shot of Berocca in your bum. All of a sudden, you’re fabulous.
When you were growing up, what sort of clothes did you wear?
Ali G. gives people like me a bad name. I used to wear my pants round my ankles. I thought I looked like an LA gang member, but I probably resembled a member of Steps.
What would we find in your wardrobe?
I have boxes and boxes of trainers I won’t wear. They’re sacred. I like to get a pair out of the box and lick them, then put them back. It’s the dog in me.
So you’re a sneaker pimp?
I guess so. I also have a fetish for women’s heels. I went to the Cartier polo this year. It was crazy. Full of posh women in high heels and pencil skirts dancing to “Goldigger.” I had no idea what to do.
Is that the kind of girl you go for?
I go for all sorts. I also like rude girls, a woman who can knock a dude out cold with her language, if need be. Saying that, romance and finance are two areas in my life that are like minefields for me. Relationships are tricky. I’ve probably had about three or four, and a wife. The rest was chaos. But I feel I’m getting old and ugly now and the road is getting narrower. I can’t keep repeating the same patterns. I want to be a dad one day.
Who was your first celebrity crush?
Patsy Kensit. I wrote to her when I was about five years old. I invited her to come to my house and listen to Adam and the Ants. Years later, I was on holiday with my parents at the Chateau Marmont in LA. Patsy was there by the pool. My mum said “There she is – the woman of your dreams! Talk to her!” I bricked it and spend the whole day surreptitiously spying on her.
I’ve just finished reading my father’s [TV and film writer Chips Hardy} book, Each Day a Small Victory. It’s like Wind in the Willows meets Pulp Fiction.
Randall and Aubin in Soho is a lovely little fish restaraunt.
I’m a straight-up hip-hop junkie, but I’ve just bought The Best of Led Zeppelin for my girlfriend.
My MDA Vario mobile phone is brilliant-it can download all types of attachments.
I turned 30 this year, so on my way to a meeting in New York with Phillip Seymour Hoffman, I treated myself to a Rolex Oyster.

Photos by Colin Bell

It’s weird reading about John getting surrounded by green fire, hearing Vriska talk about how these challenge will make him a hero, and gathering that a part of John feels that insurmountable danger of is exactly what his life needs. The prototyping of Bec illustrates this; it was a conscious choice for Vriska, but putting John to sleep to instate it indicates a subconscious choice for John. The pattern repeats much later when John goes to fight Caliborn.

There’s also this line (4875):

Which refers to one of Grandpa Harley’s BEAUTIES, a cipher for his necrophilia. So through a minor gag about Vriska’s vanity, we are told that John is obsessed with death. This was first hinted in Act 1 as John was looking at his movie posters: “Films about impending apocalypse fascinate you.” (1921) If Homestuck is still operating in Freudian terms here, the suggestion would be is that Vriska is operating here as a manifestation of John’s “death drive”, his inclination towards self-destruction/self-sabotage.

I originally interpreted the apocalypse line as an extension of John’s obsession with Growing Up, since fear of arrested development is the driving theme of both Little Monsters and Failure to Launch, two of John’s posters. But I guess they’re similar, insofar as growing up/changing implies the death of your current self? Or just from the angle that both are consequences of Time. Shrug.

Down the Rabbit hole Level 1

You want to know what’s happening and what’s going on? Beth is alive but this story goes so much deeper than that.

Well ok… if you want to know I will tell you everything… but I warn you this is going to unplug you from the world you thought you knew.

I have been analysing this show for the last few years , so much weirdness, vagueness and not just in regards to Beth’s “Death” but I get it now, this is the show that finally made it all click for me.

The meaning and explanation behind everything we see on screen is all blatantly right in our faces, deliberately so. And let me tell you, the title of this crazy show is the most fitting title of all. “We are the walking dead” is scarily accurate too.

I’m putting the rest under a read more because i want to warn all my followers that this is going to melt your brains and change your life, hopefully for good and with an unimaginable, beautiful coda of your own.

I am literally offering you the red pill or the blue pill. “You take the blue pill, the story ends. You wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.” 

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Merry Christmas [Riley & Lucas’ one shot]

Author’s note: Fortunately, I was able to finish this. Not what I hoped it to be, but at least it’s something. Merry Christmas Eve to everyone celebrating.

Set ten years after Heart eyes.

“Here?” Lucas asked standing on his tip toes.

“A little to the right and a bit higher,” the brunette mumbled the orders as she covered her mouth with her right hand trying to keep a bite of chocolate cake her husband had bought from falling out from her mouth. “You know what, no, it looks better on the left.”

The blond man shook his head chuckling before hanging a small ceramic angel on the Christmas tree.

Riley and Lucas had gotten married a month after Lucas finished his studies at the veterinary school, on the day Lucas finally had his moment at the ski lodge. The lovebirds had been together for over a decade and they knew each other better than anyone. He knew her better than Maya and Farkle, and she knew him better than Zay and, surprisingly, Smackle, who Lucas considered to be his younger sister. City girl and subway boy were the last ones to get married, although their friend had made a bet they would be married by the end of the sophomore year of college. 

No one thought Riley and Lucas would stay in New York; their classmates from high school were sure they would move to Texas, to Pappy Joe’s ranch whilst the young artist and her husband, English teacher, also known as Riley’s uncle stayed in the big apple. Of course, Maya and Josh didn’t move to Texas, they chose to live in Philadelphia with Josh’s parents, but to everyone else seeing Riley and Maya separately, living their own live was strange. Farkle and Isadora were living in California, raising Riley and Lucas’ godchildren Marie and Pierre. As for Zay… Well, he couldn’t leave his best friend. So he stayed in New York

“How about now?” Lucas asked hopefully.

“Yes! Right there!” Riley exclaimed.

Lucas hung up the toy and took a step back and wrapping one of his arms around Riley’s waist after she had fed him another bite of the cake. The two lovers stood in the middle of their new apartment, looking as the twinkling lights danced on the white walls. Riley rested her head on Lucas’ shoulder admiring his work.

“Ready to put on the angel?” he asked before kissing her forehead.

Riley nodded excitedly before leaving his warm embrace, walking towards the coffee table where she placed the plate with the rest of the dessert.

When she came back to him carrying the angel they had made together in their senior year of high school, Lucas was already waiting for her with his arms stretched towards her. He lifted Riley up, setting her on his shoulders, and walked to the Christmas tree.

“It’s perfect,” Riley whispered when he set her down and wrapped her up in his arms once again not wanting to ruin the magical moment.

“It is,” her blond husband agreed.

A moment of them staring at their Christmas tree and the twinkling lights had passed when Lucas spoke, making Riley open her eyes.

“I have something for you.”

“I thought we agreed this apartment would our gift to each other! I didn’t get you anything!” Riley whined with tears in her eyes.

“Hey hey hey, it’s for the both of us, okay? When I think about it it’s not even for us,” Lucas said chuckling as he wiped a few tears that had escaped Riley’s hazel eyes.

The brunette looked at him confused. If the present wasn’t for her or them, then who?

“Ever since I had that vision of our future in your father’s classroom, all I’ve wanted in this life was to have a family with you. Every time I looked at you I would see a woman I was eager to spend the rest of my life with, I could see you walking down the alter, hear you saying I do, promising me to put up with me till our last days. I could see it all. The images of our future would come and go, but the picture of you and our children would always stay.”

Lucas took her hands in his, kissing each tenderly, before he intertwined their fingers and started walking toward the spare room that was next to their bedroom.

“This month I saw you with Maya and Josh’s daughter, I saw the way your eyes lit up when Pierre and Marie said your name for the first time. I saw the way you took care of my niece last week. “

When they reached the room, Riley was still holding back the tears in her eyes. But when Lucas opened the door letting her go in first, the tears were streaming down her cheeks.

In the middle of the room stood a wooden crib.

“When we were down in Texas, I told you I was helping my Dad and Pappy Joe, but they were actually helping me out. This crib was mine and for some reason, my Mom didn’t let Dad to get rid of it. So when I saw it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about us and what the future holds for us,” Lucas confessed shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he watched Riley circling the crib. She knelt down at the end of it, tracing every line of a carved teddy bear that seemed to be sitting in the middle of a maple leaves and scattered jellybeans.

Riley didn’t say a word. She just sat there, tracing every pattern over and over again.

“You’re my everything, Riley,” Lucas whispered sitting down next to her. “The world needs more of you. And I really hope that next Christmas there will be three of us.”

What Lucas didn’t expect was to see his wife running out of the room the moment those words had left his mouth. He didn’t understand what was going on.

The blond stood up ready to go after the brunette, but just a few seconds later Riley was holding onto him for dear life.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she kept repeating over and over again.

“Do you know how scared I was?” Lucas sighed trying to pull her even closer to him. “Please never do that again.”

Unfortunately for him, she backed away. In that moment Lucas noticed a square package she was holding in her hands.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, but I had to bring this to you,” Riley said as she placed the present in his hands.

“What is this?” Lucas asked taking off the wrapping paper.

The blond’s hand started shaking when he saw the framed picture.

“Princess?” he whispered lifting his head just for a moment before his eyes locked on the picture again.

Riley’s heart warmed at the sight of her husband’s shaking fingers touching a specific place. She let out a laugh, making Lucas look at her just to see her walking towards him. And in that moment, she realized why their friends still used the old nickname.

She took one of his trembling hands and placed it on her slightly bigger stomach Lucas had failed to notice.

“Merry Christmas, Heart eyes,” she smiled at him gently caressing his cheeks. “Merry Christmas to the three of us.”

Early into filming, they became lovers, and as Hyler and other remembered, “they were together most evenings after shooting.” At the same time, Audrey relocated from her first residence, an apartment hotel at 3435 Wilshire Boulevard (near Paramount Studios), to a two-room furnished rental at 10368 Wilshire (closer to Holden’s residence), where their rendezvous were conducted. In those days of the “morals clause” in Hollywood contracts - a paragraph that could destroy a career if public decency was offended by an actor’s private life - Audrey and Bill had to be extraordinarily discreet. In this case, the matter was compounded by the fact that he was married and a father. Of Mel, Audrey was uncertain; in any case, no promises had been exchanged, and he was away at work. Playful, romantic and attentive, Bill was, for the time being, irresistible.

(…) Holden’s life was ordinarily complaisant - until Audrey. In late October [1954], he brought her home for dinner (a curiously repeated pattern in the marriage), and Brenda at once picked up the scent of a real threat. Later, she demanded that he end the liaison, but the lovers simply continued the affair at her apartment and sometimes, more injudiciously, in their studio dressing rooms. “Audrey embodied everything that he admired in a woman”, according to Holden’s biographer, Bob Thomas. “She was young - eleven years younger than himself. Audrey considered him the handsomest man she had ever known, and she was entranced by his manly charm and gentle humor”..

(…) She was completely won over when he promised to divorce Brenda and marry her. In a delirium of happiness that made their onscreen love scenes eminently credible, Audrey at once raised the issue of children: she wanted two, three, four and more - she would abandon her career to have a family. For a few weeks, until their last scenes together, Holden temporized, and then broke the news of his sterility. On the spot, Audrey ended the affair. “I really fell in love with Audrey Hepburn,” Holden said later, “but she wouldn’t marry me. So I set out around the world with the idea of screwing a woman in every country I visited.” Years later, Audrey’s reaction to his tale of international intrigue consisted of two words only: “Oh, Bill!" 


Superman: Emperor Joker. Action Comics #770 (Part 9).

This portrayal of Batman/Joker dynamic may seem rather exaggerated and superficial. However, the comic book captured some vital aspects of their relationship. For example, Joker’s attitude towards Batman is usually ambivalent, in a sense that he wants to preserve their relationship, but at the same time, he does everything to destroy it.

In the comic book Joker gains powers that make him omnipotent and unstoppable. But, as it turns out, there is a serious limitation to Joker’s capabilities – he can destroy everything (including time and space), except for Batman. He keeps murdering Batman, only to bring him back to life later. He doesn’t seem able to get rid of his foe permanently. It is explained in terms of an obsession and cognitive distortions (Joker isn’t capable of getting Batman out of his head). But that’s a rather shallow explanation.

Anyway, the pattern repeats itself quite often in the other comics, too. Joker strongly believes that he has control over it and could end “their game” any time he wanted. But in reality, the mere existence of Batman undermines his fantasy of omnipotence.

The comic book also proves that Joker’s inability to kill Batman reaches deeper than his rationalizations (such as: I won’t kill you, because you’re just too much fun) might suggest. Here, Joker’s emotional dependency on Batman renders him most vulnerable, but on the other hand, it’s the only thing that sets limits.

It's Not the (Salted Caramel) Pudding, it's the Pattern!

Follow-up to Storytelling vs. Real Life
from the Slash and Subtext Series

Follow-up to my Storytelling vs. Real Life post, inspired by the great additional discussion it led to. Cause overall I actually agree with bow-legged’s (punkascas’s) key observations on the matter, and the point that it’s about the pattern is always worth repeating.

I don’t know which of the small, superficial “signs” the fandom points to were intentional on the part of TPTB when they created the text, and which gained their significance later when fans began to interact with with the text. I leave that question to people with more knowledge of television as story-telling medium, Jerry Wanek’s contributions, etc. And frankly, I don’t worry about individual examples anyway – cause even if some weren’t intentional, it doesn’t ultimately change a thing!

We don’t say that Dean is bi because of the salted caramel pudding. Or the blue, pink, and purple shirt. Or any specific, individual instance of him appearing to be checking out or flirting with another guy. Or any of the other “signs” people point to, in isolation. None of these, in isolation, means a thing. But they don’t exist in isolation – they exist within a larger pattern. The pattern is composed of all its individual parts, which is which they’re all worth talking about – but no individual part is important enough, by itself, to make or break the entire pattern.

It’s about the forest, not the individual trees. Some of the “signs” of Dean’s bisexuality – the salted caramel and the shirt colors – are little saplings. Others – the constant eyefucking, the romantic tropes, the parallels with romantic couples – are big, sturdy trees. And all of them – thin saplings, tall sequoias, and everything in between – collectively make up a forest that’s more than the sum of its parts.

(Side note: FWIW, the “saplings” strike me as winks toward subtext-savvy audiences who’ve picked up on the more substantial signs, not as serious evidence in and of themselves. We talk about them so much because they’re fun! Not because they’re in any way central to the pattern. Yet for some ~mysterious~ reason, subtext-denialists love to pick on these minor points while ignoring the big trees and the overall forest.)

We can debate whether this or that small-ish plant is best classified as a “tree” at all. Maybe this one’s more of a “shrub”. Hell, maybe that one over there is actually an old telephone pole! But quibbling over a couple of plants doesn’t make all the other trees – the forest as a whole – magically disappear. At the end of the day, when those of us who actually know what a queer “forest” would even look like in the first place assess the scenery, we see Dean Winchester standing right smack in the middle of a great big forest of bisexuality. At the end of the day, that – not the colors on his shirt, or any other individual sapling within that forest – is why we say he’s bi.

Scarlet Heart: Ryeo Episodes 12-13 (part 2)

I’m not sure I’ve ever watched anything so preoccupied with visible, physical disfigurement as SH:R. Whether it be Goryeo’s almost perverse obsession with unmarked skin and aversion to scars. So’s face. Soo’s permanent limp from the torture she survived, or later on the work roughened hands from the Gyobang. Even Woo Hee’s mysterious scars, or Queen Yoo’s miraculously gray hair after her ordeal. This is a world where people’s stories are written on they’re bodies in unmistakable ways.

Predominantly, it is a world where male stories are written, often violently, on female bodies.

We have seen the pattern repeat itself again and again. Soo’s wrist was a early example. Sold into marriage for her family’s greed, purchased to protect the throne, and ultimately freed only by her active destruction of her own flesh, when all the men in her life (not for the last time) failed to protect her.

Keep reading

Deceit and Heartbreak- Eisuke Ichinomiya End

Part 1/ Part 2

Mitsunari Baba Ending/ Soryu Oh Ending

Scarlet roses were tossed onto the table, yesterday it was white lillies and tomorrow it could be anything else, you couldn’t even remember how long he’d been giving you the flowers now. It was like a beautiful gift. Each bouquet came with a small, sweet letter, containing things you’d never thought Eisuke would even think, and yet there they were in front of you.

He’d hurt you, he’d hurt you so damned much, cheated on you and you watched for months and months and you had to try and think about this everytime you read one of his letters. The words didn’t match the man you were in love with, and at the same time, the outpouring of new emotions, seeing this side made your love for him even stronger, almost as though it was an attempt to wipe the idea of his cheating from your mind.

He’d slowly seemed to make himself irreplacable within your heart without even being there.

But, everytime you took a step coser to him, a step to being back beside you, you again retreated thinking about how he ould just repeat the same pattern, and cheat again, breaking your heart.

Baba was watching from the sidelines, the way in which a smile would fade from sight within a second, then reappear moments later. The clumsy manner in which you’d started to do your job, in which you’d started to get by, a certain grace seemed to have faded from your movements and the fluidity in which you used to work, it seemed to have faded away leaving a worried, clumsy girl in its place. Someone Baba barely recognised. And then watching the way in which the Eisuke seemed to be stumbling through his life, he seemed to just be shoving himself through each day sitting and doing his paperwork, filing it away and attending the odd party, and then the auctions seemingly leaving everyone else to sort everything out.

And Baba was more than a little bit sick of it.

Dressing you in a sleek silk scarlet dress he dragged you out, telling you how you were both going to have a perfect dinner together, that he was taking you to his favourite restaurant and that it was going to be the most fun you’d ever have.

Filling your mind with lies.

Driving off he ditched you, and you felt the tears building in your eyes, nearly seating yourself on the curb you watched as another car pulled up moments later, and stepping out, red rose in hand, someone who you’d avoided as though they were the plague, yet now they felt like your saviour.

Whisking you inside a bouquet placed in your arms, you found rather quickly you were sat across from him, a glass of red resting on the table. Meaningless small talk is shared as he stares across the table at you like you mean the world to him, but still nothing that mattered slipped through your lips. Giving up after being met with all the same silences from small talk gone wrong, you stand up ready to leave Eisuke alone at the table.

Grabbing your hand he makes you sit down again, soft brown eyes watching you, a small smile gracing his lips. Holding onto both of your hands he finds all he can do is stare into your eyes.

“I only want you to admire me” Simple and blunt just like Eisuke,
“All my love, I need you to take me back, take it back, I made a stupid move” The rather romantic apology that slipped through your lips, the kind of things you never thought that you’d hear from him,
“I know what I’ve done, I know I shouldn’t have hurt you, that’s be a bad idea, I just love you” He whispered, a soft smile graced your lips at his soft words, this was all new to you, this new softer side to him. Tightening your grip on his hands you found your words were now failing you, but you didn’t want to hear anything else like this from him now, lifting your finger to his lips, he’d made it clear that he was heels over head for you, and thats all you felt you’d need.

It wouldn’t be easy, but you couldn’t stay away from him anymore.

Masterpost: http://jessyurahara.tumblr.com/Headcannons

I think one of the most valuable skills any tarot reader can learn is discernment. And I don’t mean just reading cards, but people. Understanding why people act the way they do. Spotting when people are being fake. Recognizing patterns in behavior and understanding when they’re going to repeat. And most of all, paying attention to that sense of unease when a new person shows up in your life who later proves to be untrustworthy - that sense has never failed me, but there’s been many times I’ve wished I had listened to it much earlier.

Felicity Smoak and her stages of grief

I have seen many posts that said that the way Felicity has been grieving has not been what they expected and was even a sign of bad writing.

I have to respectfully disagree. And I will do it in a loooong post lol.

Felicity has been in the show for almost 3 years now and until recently we knew almost nothing about her past. Oliver always claims that he doesn’t open about what happened to the island and to all the years he was missing. But when the time is right he does open up even with difficulty either to Diggle, or Felicity or even Sara when she was alive. He has opened up to his mother partially and to Thea at some moments and even to Tommy and Laurel to an extent.

However Felicity is the person that indeed doesn’t open up almost at all. We know that she has felt the absence of her father deeply and that it has scarred her however she never talks about him. She never talked about her past with her ex boyfriend either and her hactivism adventures. Not even once. She was forced to do so (partly) in both situations.

How does Felicity respond to pain, absence, trauma and grief? She puts a brave face, she keeps it all in and she starts anew. This is her defense mechanism. Her father abandoned her and she worked hard and went to MIT while she acts like her father never even existed in the first place. Cooper got in prison and supposedly died. How Felicity acted? She re-invented herself, she changed her appearance, she put on a smile and moved on by completely changing her lifestyle and life all together. She never talked about what happened to her, not even to those closer to her. When Sara died? She immediately did the same. She started a new job in Ray’s side and changed her everyday life by entering a new (one more different) chapter in her life.

When Felicity is in pain she doesn’t wail, she doesn’t scream, she doesn’t scratch her face with her nails. She shuts down and turns the page. She is similar to her computers actually. She stores her bad memories to the deep ends of her hard drive and then reboots herself.

People have many ways to grieve. Felicity’s is one of the hardest and more dangerous ones. She is a person that holds a certain light and innocence but with each loss she loses parts of herself by shutting down. She keeps everything in. She smiles while all the pain gets locked inside and eats her up alive. Felicity won’t wear a vigilante mask, she won’t make an atom costume or learn how to shoot arrows; she won’t learn how to fight. Her pain, anger and rage will remain deep inside her with no exit doors. Everything will pile-up inside. Felicity will move on and will push everything inside. She will smile, she will joke and part of her will remain empty and in pain. The kind of silent pain that follows you everywhere and is always present in your every waking moment.

Felicity was the one that held on to hope the longest. She hoped that Oliver was alive, she refused to even think anything different. And when she realized that all hope was gone she immediately shut herself down and went to her job and once more she tried to change her life by leaving team arrow behind and acting as if this was in her past. Because this is what she does in the face of pain. She refuses to give in and she keeps on moving until she won’t feel it anymore. However the only thing she manages is to keep her ghosts inside of her.

This is why her father is an unresolved subject that sooner or later will come back to haunt her. This is why her history with Cooper changed her (even her appearance) and then it took five years for her to face everything she felt and that only when she was forced to by the circumstances.

Felicity distances herself and the bigger the pain the bigger is also the shield she is using.

However now things are a little bit different. Because this time Felicity stayed. She remained with team arrow because the cause is her own too. In all this time if we sum it up the few times that Felicity truly opened up to anyone was with Oliver. Oliver knows that she fears abandonment, he knows that her father issues hurt her, he knows about her past because Oliver truly got to see the real Felicity.

Oliver is one of the biggest most meaningful parts of her life and right now Felicity is simply functioning by existing. She doesn’t act. She reacts to the circumstances all around her. Right now Oliver and his memory is a driving force for her and a ghost inside her. She won’t be able to breathe until he comes back but she will keep working and living as if nothing happened.

This is why she reacts in that way with Ray. Because Ray is there, he is safe, he is a friendly face. However he is not Oliver. And that says it all. Because Oliver has been Felicity’s breaking point and this is why when Oliver comes back things won’t simply be easy again. Because the magnitude and the fear Felicity felt after Oliver’s death was so huge that even after his return it will still be there.

Did you notice Felicity’s face when she realized that the blood from the sword Merlyn gave to them was indeed Oliver’s? Time stopped for her there. When Oliver returns there will be a sort of PTSD for her in some ways. Because everything she felt at the point where time stopped will still linger inside because now she has faced what Oliver’s death actually means. It became a harsh terrifying reality, one that will still be possible in the future and that is going to be one of Felicity’s greatest fears if not the greatest and that of course will influence her relationship with Oliver more.

People have many ways to express their pain. Felicity simply acts as if nothing happened. She did the same after she realized she couldn’t be with Oliver. She does the same in each and every crucial moment in her life.

Those are “the quiet dreams she keeps to herself”.

The fears, the hope, the love, the pain, the loss, the grief. Everything. She keeps it all to herself because everyone in her life sooner or later leaves. In that moment even Oliver left her. This is a pattern that keeps repeating in her life and Felicity won’t be able to connect with anyone until she truly opens up and faces her demons. Ray isn’t able to open her up for the simply reason that he is only reaching the surface. Felicity keeps on giving him the glimpses she allows to show. Oliver saw deeper and he is already rooted deep inside her and he understands all the things Felicity keeps inside and everything she won’t allow anyone else to see. It is a different connection all together. Ray knows the masks Felicity wears and is infatuated by those images. Oliver sees the girl beneath the mask and loves her for what she really is, with all her insecurities and imperfections.

Right now Felicity is hollow. She could even have the perfect life with Ray. She could even smile as if nothing happened and she even tries to do so. But the thing here is that perfection is just an image. And Felicity puts the shield of perfection in order to cover that she is not perfect and that her imperfections hurt more than she could ever express.

Ray is the simple, easy option. He is the sweet guy, the one that is the safe choice.

Oliver is the option that keeps on hurting her. The one that is hard, and difficult and meaningful and the one that happens only once in a lifetime and takes her breath away and is the real thing for her and right now he is gone so all she has left is the void and all the things she cannot express. So she moves on by standing still and letting the world move around her while she tries to turn the page once more and she simply acts as if everything is okay while inside of her the mourning is too great and unable to come out and basically suffocates her.

Ray makes life seem easy to her and Felicity needs that safety net but Oliver is what makes her feel alive and until he comes back Felicity won’t feel alive. Not really. But being alive also means pain and that will come along too once Oliver returns.

Basically Ray is a great guy that happened to come to Felicity’s life in the worst possible time. Because right now he is her grieving pill. The anesthetic that numbs the pain. And this is why it could never and will never work between Felicity and Ray. Not in the long run anyway. And this is why Felicity might try choosing Ray but in the end it won’t work because deep in heart she has already made her choice. And that choice is Oliver.

anonymous asked:

Roadrat concept- M(om)ercy saves Junkrat´s life. the next day she finds a Pachimari and a box of chocolotes in her desk, with a note attached "Thanks for not letting the lil shit die". Weeks later, she saves Roadhog´s life. The next day, Junkrat shows up in her office with expensive jewerly (of questionable whereabouts), thanking her for saving "that big fat ass". Is a pattern it always repeats when one of them is in danger. :)

awww so cute!!! Totally thanking mom :333 

And if anyone was like “it’s just her job, you don’t have to thank her every time” And RH stands up and is like !!!
And JR slams his hands on the table and is like “YOU ALWAYS THANK UR MOM MATE. ALWAYS. SHE’S GOT US.” 

But always so thankful for Mercy :333