#Premium Quality Dress

[sierrasocksblog]

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[jakshexport-1]

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[curatedattire]

Choosing the Perfect Fabric Unveiling the Best Material for Men's Dress Shirts

When it comes to dress shirts, there are a variety of materials and fabrics to choose from. The type of fabric you choose can make a big difference in the overall look and feel of the shirt. So, let's dive in and take a closer look at some of the most popular options.

Twill Twill is another great option for dress shirts. It has a diagonal weave pattern that adds depth and texture to the fabric. It's also a durable fabric that's resistant to wrinkles.

Oxford Oxford is a classic fabric that's often used for dress shirts. It has a basket weave pattern that gives it a unique texture. It's a versatile fabric that can be dressed up or down. 

Poplin Poplin is another popular fabric for dress shirts. It's a lightweight, tightly woven fabric that has a silky finish. It's perfect for warm weather.

Sea Island Sea Island cotton is a luxurious fabric that's made from extra-long staple cotton fibers. It's incredibly soft and silky to the touch. 

Linen Linen is a lightweight, breathable fabric that's perfect for warm-weather dress shirts. It has a natural texture that adds depth to any outfit.

Silk Silk is a luxurious fabric that has a soft, silky feel. It’s perfect for formal dress shirts, and it drapes beautifully on the body. 

Wool Wool is another great option for dress shirts. It’s a durable fabric that’s perfect for cooler weather. It has a natural texture that adds depth to any outfit.

The fabric you choose can make all the difference. When selecting a fabric, consider the occasion, the weather, and your personal style. Choose a fabric that makes you look and feel your best

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[oliversrarebooks]

we'll make great pets

This bit of pet whump was partially inspired by Stray by @sowhumpshaped and by my innate desire to write protagonists who are kind of assholes.

tw: pet whump, dehumanization, brainwashing, involuntary drugging, captivity, abuse, dystopia, whumper turned whumpee

"Morning, Scout," said Max in a groggy mumble as he ruffled his pet's hair. His pet looked up at him with adoring eyes, as always. It was curled up safe and warm in its nest under a pile of weighted and woolen blankets, and Max couldn't help but be momentarily jealous. He'd love to slide back into his warm bed, but the driver would be here soon and his dad would kill him if he kept skipping out on his stupid business classes. 

Pets didn't have to worry about any of that. They didn't have to worry about boring-ass college lectures or overdue papers or their parents riding their ass about the family legacy. All they had to do was eat, sleep, and obey their masters. Must be nice, in a way.

"Here, I brought you breakfast." As Scout sat up, yawning adorably and rubbing the sleep out of its eyes, Max tossed it a breakfast packet in one of its favorite flavors, egg and cheese. Max always bought it the good stuff, premium pet food with lots of protein and all-natural, high quality ingredients. His pet ate as good as he did, most days. Scout happily slurped up the food as Max refilled its water bottle and dumped its pills out into his hand. 

"Down the hatch, boy," he said, popping the pills into his pet's mouth and quickly following it up with the water bottle before it could spit the pills out. Scout was well-behaved, having come from one of the finest pet facilities on the Eastern seaboard, but it was sometimes a little fussy about its pills. Max's dad used to slap and yell at the poor thing as though it were capable of knowing better. It had been a lot happier since accompanying Max to college, several hours away from his parents. So had Max.

With his pet all settled, Max turned to his closet to dress himself. Half his clothes lay in a pile on the floor where he'd tossed them aside, dissatisfied, the other day. The housekeeper wouldn't be coming until tomorrow so he'd just have to live with that. "I can't believe how trash all these clothes are. I gotta go shopping. Don't you think so, Scout?"

Scout nodded from his bed.

"Exactly. You get it. Just don't tell Dad how much I've been spending. It's our little secret, okay?" He ruffled Scout's hair as it laughed softly. Scout rarely ever spoke, much less gave up any of Max's secrets. It was a bad habit of Max's to talk to Scout as if it were a person, especially when no one else was around. Scout had been a birthday present for Max's seventh birthday, back when he'd been his parents' great hope instead of their great disappointment, and he couldn't help spoiling it a bit.

Max finally settled on a 90s inspired outfit with a bold floral print, paired with chunky jewelry and an oversized watch. He admired himself in the mirror, slicking back his hair and appreciating his flashy fashion sense.

The next thing was to delve into Scout's clothes to find something complementary. Scout's wardrobe was nearly as large as Max's, and far less constrained, since no one expected a pet to be dressed in the latest designer fashion. Max was free to outfit it in thrift store finds and homemade altered goods, soaking up the compliments he received on his picture perfect pet. 

Fashion was his passion, after all. His parents just didn't get it.

His phone was buzzing insistently by the time he finished up with Scout, and so he grabbed a granola bar, clasped Scout's leash on, and dashed out the door to the driver. Scout lay its head in Max's lap in the backseat of the black SUV as Max checked his schedule for the day. He groaned and suppressed the urge to fling his phone out the window when he saw his entire morning would be filled with Economics 300 and Business Negotiations II. 

Screw it, he'd just sleep through those. He could scrape a C no matter what he did, and Cs got degrees.

In the afternoon he had -- ugh, he'd forgotten that mandatory pet testing was today. It was required each year from everyone between the ages of sixteen and twenty-four, designed to make sure the pets occurring naturally in the human population were found and given appropriate treatment. It was, of course, trivially easy to pass if you were a person, but it was over three hours long and insanely dull.

Max had always passed with flying colors, of course. It was ludicrous to even test the heir and scion of the Parkington Corporation, as if he could be a pet, but it was federal law and apparently not possible to buy his way out of it. 

His little brother, the obnoxiously hardworking golden child who could do no wrong in their mother's eyes, had passed his first pet test just last week, and of course their mother had thrown a disproportionate celebration. Max never got a cake and presents for something as silly as passing a pet test, that was for sure, but darling little Robbie was a genius no matter what he did.

Like it was so hard to prove that you're human.

A soft noise stirred Max out of his thoughts. Scout was looking up at him with a concerned expression. "It's all right, boy," Max soothed, running his fingers through his pet's silky hair. "Just gonna be a crap day. You don't have anything to worry about."

The car pulled up to the main building of McKinnon University, just a few blocks away from the Parkington Building her family had donated a few generations back. Fifteen minutes and one purchase of an enormous latte later, Max was dropping off Scout at one of the university's pet lounges. Pets weren't allowed in educational settings, of course, as too much mental stimulation was bad for them. It was a shame, as Max always found it easier to focus with Scout curled at his feet.

"Be a good boy, Scout," he said, ruffling its hair and handing it its favorite plush cow. "I'll be back soon."

Scout leaned into the touch with a dazed smile on its face. Its morning pills always made it drowsy, so Max knew it'd probably sleep most of the morning. They could go out for a walk in the park once Max was done with classes and his test, maybe play some frisbee, get some exercise.

With no small reluctance, Max left his pet behind and trudged to the lecture hall, ignoring the dirty look from the professor as he took his seat ten minutes late.

The classes seemed to drag on forever, as Max floated in and out of sleep, only catching bits and pieces of his professor's droning and powerpoint presentations before his eyes slid shut again. It didn't matter, none of this mattered. His parents' company was mostly run by the board anyway. He'd just let them handle all that shit while he built his fashion empire, his haute couture gracing celebrities at the Met Gala. Clothes that would make waves, clothes that would make people smile, clothes that would make people look good and feel good. What was even the point of being young and rich if he couldn't have fun?

Finally, Max was released from his last morning class, having learned precisely nothing. He had enough time to grab a bite to eat before the pet test, so he picked up Scout from the pet lounge and headed to a campus cafe that made a great quinoa bowl. He needed the protein and greens if he was gonna stay focused during the godawful pet test. 

Since he had a few quiet moments to himself, he pulled out his sketchbook and began drawing out some ideas for a portfolio. Seeing the pet lounge this morning had got him thinking of comfortable and basic looks -- oversized sweaters, leggings, pastels, messy bedhead. Maybe a touch of academia, too, with chunky glasses and pleated skirts. One good thing about campus was that there was never a shortage of people and clothes to draw.

"Hey, Maxie!" Nathan was calling him from clear across the quad, his voice almost as loud as his jacket. He was, unfortunately, one of Max's closest friends since grade school, as their families lived in the same area and they went to the same vacation spots a lot. "Nice outfit. Love the colors."

"Thanks. Love the tiger print."

Nathan laughed. "You hate it, don't even pretend you don't. Hey, Scout." He knelt down to the pet's level as Scout nuzzled against him. "Want some chocolate, boy?"

"Hey, don't feed my pet human food. It's not good for it."

"A little chocolate's not gonna kill it. It's not a dog, you know." Nathan plopped in the chair across from Max as Scout happily munched the chocolate bar. "Whatcha drawing?" He pulled Max's sketchbook from his hands without warning. "Oh, nice. She looks awfully cozy for a stick-thin supermodel."

"That's the idea," said Max, taking his sketchbook back. "I was thinking of the aesthetics behind places like pet lounges and schools and --"

"Excuse me, can I have a moment of your time, please?"

They looked up to see a student with mouse-brown hair and wardrobe to match, clutching a sky-blue clipboard. Max groaned inwardly. A fucking survey or petition or some crap.

"Um, I'm with the Student Ethics for Pets Association..."

Of course it was SEPA. They infested the campus year-round, but they were always out in full force when there was a pet-related event, like the mandatory testing or the annual Pet Festival. 

"I'm not interested," said Max. He agreed with the ethical treatment of pets, obviously, and if that was what SEPA was about, he'd be all for it. But they weren't just against mistreatment of pets, they were against pets entirely, even going so far as to claim that some pets were humans who had been unfairly forced into pet facilities.

"Most pet owners mean well, but they don't know the realities of the cruel tactics facilities use to train pets," she said, trying to push a pamphlet at Max. "Dangerous drug cocktails that result in intelligence and memory loss, brainwashing devices to ensure compliance, restraints that cause permanent joint damage..."

Max couldn't help his blood starting to boil. "I don't know where you think I got my pet from, but it wasn't some cheap pet mill in the slums that tortures pets. Scout lives better than I do. Does it look mistreated to you?" 

"That's not the only problem with pet ownership. There's also the mandatory pet tests. How do we know that people aren't getting caught up in the inhumane pet treatments due to a flawed test?"

"Yeah, right. The pet test is super easy to pass if you're not a pet." Down by his feet, Scout was pressing against his legs, clearly stressed and whimpering. If this kept up, he'd have to Tag Scout, and he hated to do it. "For someone who cares about pet ethics, you sure don't care that you're upsetting my pet."

"All I'm saying is --"

"All I'm saying is get the hell out of here with your propaganda and leave me alone."

"Fine, I can take a hint," she said, turning on her heel and flouncing away. 

Max scowled after her. SEPA was such a ridiculous organization. They would try to reel students in with reasonable-sounding arguments about saving abused pets and then start with their radical bullshit. It happened to gullible students all the time, and they'd go and look like idiots chaining themselves to pet training facilities and showrooms. "Friggin' ridiculous," he said, looking over at Nathan, who was watching the girl leave. "Nathan?"

"Huh? What'd you say?"

"Nathan, you don't actually believe any of that, do you?"

"What, SEPA stuff? Nah, not really," said Nathan, taking a long drink of his soda. "But don't you ever think about it?"

"Think about what?"

"What if the test is wrong sometimes? What if actual people get carted away to some pet facility and treated like a pet?" he said. "Wasn't there that girl who got taken from here a couple years back...?"

"Oh yeah, Victoria... Victoria what's-her-face. Her dad owned some tech startup, right, and it tanked after his daughter turned out to be a pet. That's gotta be super embarrassing for her family."

"Yeah, but... what if it's actually wrong sometimes?"

"You're not seriously worried that you're gonna fail the pet test, are you?" Max laughed. "C'mon, that doesn't happen. That pet probably knew deep down what it was. It was just pretending to be human 'cause it was afraid of getting caught. That's why they need the training and stuff, right?"

"I guess," said Nathan.

"Scout failed its test when it was my age, too," he said. "But, like, it was obviously failing out of college, getting super stressed all the time, crying in class... because it's hard for pets to pretend to be human. Don't you think the other way would be messed up, too, if we forced pets to just pretend to be human forever?"

"Yeah, that would be pretty messed up. They wouldn't be happy like that. I just don't like having to take this stupid test every year."

"Only a couple more years for us and we'll be done with it." Max's phone alarm went off. "Oh damn, we'd better get going if we're going to make it to the test on time. I don't wanna have to take the makeup test." They stood up, but Scout remained on the ground, curled up into a ball and whining. "Scout?"

"Is it okay?"

"It's upset 'cause of that crazy girl from SEPA. You can go on ahead, I've gotta get Scout calmed down," he said. 

"Alright. Good luck on the test." 

"Yeah, you too," he said, as though they needed it. He crouched down to eye level with his pet. "Hey, Scout, what's the matter?"

Scout flinched, shrinking away from Max. That was really strange. He hadn't acted like that with anyone but Max's dad.

"You gotta relax, boy. It's okay. I'm not gonna let some SEPA person liberate you or whatever," he said. "They let pets in the test room, but only if you can be calm. If you can't calm down, I'll have to Tag you."

Max should've know that would only upset Scout more. Scout backed away as best as it could, pulling at the leash, starting to actually cry. Shit. He couldn't leave Scout at the pet lounge like this, either. He didn't have a choice.

"All right, then, Scout, kneel."

Scout shook its head rapidly. "No," it said, almost too quietly to hear.

"C'mon, don't be like that. This is for your own good. Kneel."

It knelt down in front of Max, still teary and whimpering, as Max fished a Tag out of his bag. They were little disposable things that you clipped to a pet's neck that made them real quiet and docile for a few hours, perfect for calming agitated pets. They were also good for situations like vet visits and long flights, since it made the pet unable to form clear memories. Max bet the SEPA girl thought Tags were abusive, too, even though they were literally to help pets not be traumatized. Max normally tried to avoid Tagging Scout much, since he liked his pet to be active and happy.

Scout shut its eyes and bent over slightly so that Max could attach the Tag, a forlorn look on its face as he pressed the little disc just over its spine. "There you go, boy. See, that's not so bad, is it?" He pet Scout gently as the Tag's effects kicked in, its expression going glassy and vacant, a dazed smile replacing its earlier distress.  "C'mon, we gotta get going or we're going to be late."

Max was glad he had resorted to Tagging Scout when the pet curled up safely under his feet in the testing room. It wasn't that Max was nervous about the pet test, but it was boring as hell, and having Scout there helped him focus.

A big portion of it was just a bunch of bullshit psychological questions, which Max breezed through without thinking about them. Then there were questions about current events, word puzzles, a bunch of really weird abstract stuff... but obviously Max was human, so he was sure that his answers must be the right ones. He'd definitely know if he were a pet.

Finally, the test was over, and the entire auditorium of people had to be held there while the tests were scored electronically, so that they could take any pets aside. Max whipped out his phone and fully absorbed himself in his feeds.

"Mr. Parkington."

"Huh?" He looked up to see the test proctor standing by his desk. "Hey, yeah, what's up? Was there a problem with my test or something?"

"Could you come with us, please?" The proctor gestured at the exit door.

"What...?" No, it couldn't be. He couldn't have failed. There was probably some kind of mistake with his form or the grading machine. "Is there a problem?"

"There's no problem," she said curtly. "We just need you to come with us to discuss your test."

Max glanced around the auditorium. Everyone was staring at him, and not in the way he preferred. Well, no wonder. The stupid goddamn proctor was making it sound like he failed his pet test, in front of half the campus. He'd never live this down. "So was my test form unreadable or something...?" he said, hoping to salvage the situation.

She was implacable. "You need to come with us, Mr. Parkington."

He groaned, fighting down the urge to cause an even bigger scene. The people around him were already chattering about it. His parents were going to be absolutely furious about the rumors that would fly, as though it were his fault. They'd sue the school, no doubt, but by then it'd be too late. Goddamn it.

"Fine, let's get this over with. C'mon, Scout." He chucked his phone into his bag and picked it up, tugging Scout's leash. It seemed nervous, resisting a bit, even though there was no way the Tag could've worn off yet, but it followed Max out of the room just the same. They were led out of the auditorium and into a small side office, where there were a couple of cops from the Federal Pet Agency waiting, the ones who had supervised the test taking.

"We have good news for you, Mr. Parkington," said the proctor, taking up a seat behind a metal desk. 

"Good news? What kind of good news could --"

"Your pet test returned positive."

"What? That's it? You humiliated me in front of everyone to tell me that I passed? No shit, of course I'm a person."

The two agents glanced at each other.

"No, Mr. Parkington, I don't think you understand. I mean that we have positively identified you as a pet. You will no longer be required to act as a human, and your treatments can start today." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Isn't that good news?"

"...What?" Max felt as though the floor was dropping out from under him. "What the hell? What are you even talking about?"

"Your treatment can start right away, so if you'll just go with these agents --"

"What the fuck?!" he said, no longer caring about making a scene. Scout whimpered at his feet. "What the fuck are you talking about? Is this a prank? Is this some kind of viral stunt? Because I will definitely sue you to have the video taken down."

"It isn't a prank, and there is no video recording. Your test results are very clear cut."

"The hell they are! I've taken my test every year and I've never failed."

"I'm afraid you're mistaken about that."

"What do you mean by that?"

The proctor sighed and slapped a thick manila envelope onto the desk. "Your previous tests -- your real ones. Each one clearly showing that you are a pet."

"That's impossible! Then why --"

"There's a little known federal program that allows test results to be... deferred."

Max's stomach clenched. "Deferred?"

"It's an expensive option, and not widely publicized, but it allows families to suppress undesirable results for a year, while they get things in order," she said. "In your case, your family spent a great deal of money for seven years to delay the inevitable. However, this year they did not enroll in the program, so this is your final test result."

"No. No, that's not -- you're lying! You're making that up. There's no way. There's no way I failed any pet test, or that my parents paid money to cover it up. No way."

"It's all right," she said in a sickeningly condescending tone. "I know this must be very confusing, and that you've obviously been suffering without your necessary treatment for so long..."

"I'm not suffering!" He slammed his hands on the desk. The agents stepped closer, but the proctor was unfazed.

"Your grades in everything but your fashion drawing classes are --"

"I am not suffering because I'm bad at the business classes my dad forced on me!" Burning with frustration, humiliation, and a growing ember of dread, Max pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Actually, I'm going to call my dad right now. He'll put an end to this."

He was somewhat surprised that no one in the room stopped him from using his phone, until he turned it on and found no signal. "What the -- c'mon, you stupid thing --"

"Your phone service has been terminated," the proctor said. "Your parents have already been contacted by our team. They have been aware of this possibility and have made prior arrangements for you."

"No." Max's throat felt dry and his arms heavy as he dropped the phone. "There's no way. Even my asshole dad wouldn't let me be taken as a pet. I'm the heir --"

Wait.

The realization hit Max with the force of a semi-truck. The heir to Parkington Corporation. With Max out of the way, no longer a person, that heir would be --

His brother. His golden brother Robbie who could never do wrong. If they suffered the temporary humiliation of letting Max be hauled away as a pet, Robbie would be their only child. It wasn't just a matter of writing Max out of the will -- they wanted their un-favorite son to be out of the picture permanently.

Would they really go that far? The serious-looking proctors and agents in the room were a strong indication that they would.

And for the first time, Max felt true fear. This might not be a prank or a misunderstanding or an inconvenience. He might not be able to call his lawyers or his family to get him out of trouble. Even if it was a mistake, if he let them get their hands on him and process him as a pet... could you even come back from that? Wouldn't it be too late?

"I'm not going to let you take me anywhere," he said, inching towards the door. "I'll go borrow a phone and call my lawyer."

One of the agents immediately moved to block the door, unsurprisingly, as the proctor stood up. "As I was saying, your parents were aware of this possibility and have made prior arrangements for you."

"What arrangements?"

"You're going to be sent to the finest pet treatment facility on the Eastern seaboard, one that produces only high-end luxury pets. You're very fortunate."

Max swallowed hard. That sounded like the facility where they had purchased Scout for him. The thought of going through the same treatment as Scout...

That's when he realized that Scout was no longer at his feet. Instead, it was kneeling in front of one of the agents, having its head scratched. "Aww, who's a good boy?" he said. "It's you! Yes, you are..."

"Hey, Scout, what are you doing? Get away from him!"

Scout didn't even respond to him. 

"Don't worry about Scout. We're going to send it to the same facility where we're sending you, for retraining and rehoming. It's a very good pet and I'm sure it'll find an excellent new home."

Scout had been custom trained to Max's childhood tastes. They had grown up together, inseparable. And now Scout was going to have its memories of him wiped, ready to be sent to a new owner...

And he was next.

"Scout. Scout, c'mon," Max pleaded, desperation in his voice. "You're not going with them. You're going with me. C'mon, Scout."

Scout had always been the most docile and agreeable of pets, always listening to Max, following at his heels and coming at his beck and call. And yet now it steadfastly ignored Max as though he were not there.

"Scout!" Max didn't want to go near the agents, so he stood a few feet away from his pet. "Scout, listen!"

Finally, Scout turned and looked at him. It opened its mouth, then closed it again. Finally, it smiled. It wasn't the vacant smile from being Tagged or the excited smile when they went out together or the sleepy smile it had going to bed at night. No, this smile seemed almost... malicious.

"I hope we can play together when you've been trained," Scout said.

Max felt the world spinning around him. Even his pet thought he was a pet. This couldn't be happening, it couldn't.

An agent was approaching him in his daze. "Now be a good boy and come with us."

"No!" He jerked away from the agent's hand. He had to get out of here. He couldn't let them take him. He had to escape, find someone who understood. Maybe that crazy girl from SEPA. Maybe...

"You'll feel so much better once you've been treated," said the agent on the other side of him. "Don't resist."

"Like hell!" Max pulled his arm free of the agent's grasp and tried to barge between them, only to be met with sturdy arms knocking him backwards. While physically fit, he was no fighter and no match for two highly trained federal agents. In a minute he was been forced to his knees with his arms pinned behind his back, restrained. "Let me go!" he screamed as he thrashed. "Let me go right now!"

"The pet is resisting. It'll need to be Tagged," said one agent to the other, who nodded and pulled out an all-too-familiar flat black disc.

"No! No, don't! It's illegal to Tag a person!" said Max, knowing it was futile. 

"This is for your own good." One agent held him down as the other attached the tag. He could feel the cool plastic against his skin and the bite of small needles piercing his skin, a cool and numb sensation as the Tag took hold.

The world blurred around him as a kind of dazed drowsiness took hold of his body. "No... it's not..." he slurred.

His head lolled to the side as the agents hauled him up between them, keeping a firm grip on his arms. A distant part of him still wanted to put up a fight, but he felt so far away... so out of it... so strangely calm and peaceful. He blinked, and he was already out in the hallway. The agents were shooing away the students who tried to crowd around them and shove phones in his face. This was going to be all over social media. His parents would be so mad...

...no, they wouldn't. They knew this was going to happen. There was no one coming to rescue him, not even his dad's money. Max tipped his head forward and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to avoid the crowd's gaze.

"Maxie? Maxie, what the hell? What the hell, man?" said a familiar loud voice. 

"Nathan...?" He could just pick out Nathan's loud jacket in the crowd. "Help..." he said feebly. "I'm not a pet... tell them..."

"Holy shit." Nathan was rooted to the spot. He didn't seem to be moving to help Max at all as he was dragged away.

"Nathan...!"

Nathan pulled out his phone, took a picture, and then disappeared into the crowd.

The agents dragged him through the double glass doors of the auditorium to a black van waiting in the parking lot. Max couldn't find it in him to put up any resistance as he was loaded into the back seat and the doors were closed and locked. His head hit the window as he looked out at his college campus for possibly the last time. 

It felt so unreal. It still felt like something that couldn't possibly be happening to him.

Would he really be turned into a pet...?

No... they'd figure out he was a person before it was too late. They had to.

[nesquiiksstuff]

raiden + reader

humble meet insecure

fluff

multiple chapters

bending over backwards day in and day out. nails chipped, fingers swollen and raw, hardly awake—just for that effort to be ruined by you dropping food and plates on the earthrealm champion’s clothing.

Working in the Empress's Castle was a privilege.

Cleaning royal linens, arranging the flowers for his majesty's mural, tending to the gardens, preparing for grand feasts—It was a grandios job that took multiple to function. You were but a small cog, which you were reminded of constantly. Not by who you would think, no one of the royal status would ever blink an eye at you unless you were out of line. It would be other members who had more... respectable jobs in the castle. Guards, Head Maids, even your own colleagues.

That was normally the case, but now there was added pressure. It was time for the tournament or most importantly the festival for the late emperor.

Three weeks of waking up before the crack of dawn and rehearsing table dressing, serving the food, the manner in which you speak-all must be perfect.

Every step you take must be apart of the well-oiled machine of premium servitude. During this time there would never be a moment where it didn't feel as if you were stepping on eggshells. Having the strength of Outworld tested meant that pride was also on the line. Government officials who would never make the effort to bend their necks to examine your work—were now up your backside to make sure everything is polished to quality expectations. Snide comments to your work ethic would also be the new normal throughout this strenuous time.

Thankfully, it was almost over. The evening banquet was shortly coming to a close after the General’s…outburst. Servants trailed in, gracefully picking up plates and silverware. It was almost like an performance with how much repetition of order to collecting dishes had been drilled into everyone’s head. Muscle memory served you well as you whisked away used appetizer plates and wine cups that littered the table. Before you could completely step away, a hand caught your wrist.

Quickly looking up to fix your gaze on an earthrealmer who had made himself comfortable near Princess Kitana seat. A uniform smile melted onto your face, tilting your head at the man.

“Is there something I can assist you with?”

You watch as his hand began to gesture towards the Princess with a charming smile unfurling from his lips. “If you’re not too busy, can you fetch Her Majesty and I some more of this delicious wine?” He exaggerated his words greatly as he spoke—It wasn’t hard to tell that everyone seating with him used to his dramatics, some even rolling their eyes.

Nodding along to his words, “Of course, right away, sir.”

Swiftly stepping away from the dinning table and into the hall. Carrying in your arms were dishes, carefully balanced onto two trays. You couldn’t help but be grateful for not being on kitchen duty—Probably one of the most stressful tasks during and after the banquet.

On this walk you find your mind wandering about the scenery. The gold statues were polished to a beautiful shine, large floral arrangements that compliment the accessorized purple carpet with brilliant green leaves. Even if Outworld didn't win the tournament, there would be a small success with aesthetics.

Eyes completely absorbed with the beauty that you work hard to maintain, that's how you missed the flash of white appearing out of the corner of the hall. You felt time freeze as you bumped into what it felt like a brick wall. At the speeds both of you were going you found yourself practically being repelled backwards. Frantically trying to regain your balance, not for the sake of yourself but more so for the fragile and expensive porcelain. What did not help was the stranger reaching out and gripping your right forearm, truly a valiant effort but simply made you lose your grip on that side of dishes. Even though all of this seemed to go down in slow motion—It didn’t. The plates and glasses clambered down onto the floor, with you along with it.

When you properly dropped onto the floor, the grip on your forearm had been released. Irritation and horror sunk in deep into your bones, your head snapped up to glare ahead at whoever knocked you over expecting to find a guard or another servant. That is not who you found…instead time paused once more, but this it was only for you. As the man infront of you scrambled to help you up with wide eyes.

“I deeply apologize, I didn’t realize that there would be anyone coming this way—“ He pulled you up, gentle hands at your shoulders. “—I’m so sorry.”

You had spent these weeks bending over backwards day in and day out. Nails chipped, fingers swollen and raw, hardly awake—Just for that effort to be ruined by you dropping food and plates on the Earthrealm Champion’s clothing. It was almost enough for you to drown in hysterics.

You can’t tell what gobsmacked you more, the fact that you made such a rookie mistake or that he was apologizing to you. His eyebrows were pinched, those brown eyes looking at you with worry. Realizing you’ve been stunned into silence for way to long to be deem appropriate, you nod before taking a step back.

“Nono! I should be the one apologizing, sir.” You assured quickly. Of course he had to be wearing white, the orange stains practicality glowed. Sweat beads began forming on the back of your neck as you were royally fucked. Everyone’s temper was surely flared with the scene that General Shao had caused, now a lowly servant had added onto the tension. The only thing you could do was damage control.

“I can have your shirt cleaned first thing in the morning, please allow me.”

He blinked at you owlishly. “I couldn’t possibly trouble you—“

“—Please sir, it’s the most considerate thing I could do for you!” You were beginning to panic as he refused your offer, your lips were thinned as you internally plead for him to accept your offer.

“I…Alright, I suppose that’s fair. But please allow me to help you pick this up.” He motioned towards the floor.

A part of you wanted to thank him profusely, the other part wanted him to stop before you cried. What the champion was doing was kind, of course…but utterly beneath him. Your mouth opened to dismiss the idea entirely, but he was already moving to collect the fallen plates. Deciding not to argue any further, you bent down to join him.

Together it was quick for the mess to be picked up. You tried to grab the majority of the dishes but he had insisted carrying some more. Leading him to the kitchen you both walked in silence, for the man it was perhaps comfortable, but you could only imagine the stares you would get once dropping off the dishes.

You entered the back kitchen door with your head hung low, ignoring how some of the idle chatter of the staff stopped once you and the earthrealmer came through. Looking back you motioned towards one of the countertops.

“Set them over here, sir.” You guided gently putting down the dishes with a soft clank. The man’s attention was drawn back to you, he was seemingly lost in the immensity which was the Empress’s kitchen.

“This is…impressive.” He said, astonishment written on his face. “Madame Bo would approve.”

You couldn’t help the prideful smirk that curled on your lips. “Of course, everything is high end in this palace.” Nothing but the best in these walls.

The champion had let out a short laugh and nodded at your words. “I can’t say I disagree.”

The two of you worm your way out of the kitchen, now back into the hallway you turned to face him, holding out your hands. It took him a moment for him to catch onto what you were motioning for. His face scrunched up, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry…I would need another shirt.” He explained, playing with the tips of his fingers.

You battered your lashes before nodding in agreement. Before you could completely turn in your heels, “I have to inform you…We might not have anything up to the same quality of your original shirt—“ You absentmindedly rubbed your hands together as you spoke. “—But, I’ll make sure to have your shirt returned to you before anything else tomorrow.”

He looked confused as you told him before his face warped into one of amusement. “Oh, that old thing is just a working shirt…I’m not one to carry anything gaudy.” You couldn’t help how your lips formed in an ‘O’ as you slowly nodded.

You fully faced forward as you led him to a nearby but hidden closet. Storing equipment for the chefs in the kitchen. Luckily they had extra clothing, for whenever they needed a change of uniform. Shuffling through the white shirts you found one similar to his size before handing it over to him.

“Here you go, Sir. The bathrooms are not far, but if you need me to lead you—“

He shook his head, “—No, I was just there before..I knocked into you.” The man gave an apologetic smile before taking the shirt in hand.

It wasn’t completely similar to the one he was wearing now, but it’ll definitely get the job done. The man dismissed himself to the bathroom down the hall, and you waited patiently (albeit nervously considering you gave a guest serving linens). It wouldn’t take him long to return with the ruined work shirt.

“I feel as if I should still apologize, I’m truly am sorry.”

“Nonsense, sir. I should’ve been more careful.”

The champion still seemed unsure as he handed you the shirt, his eyebrows creasing further with guilt. In all honesty…You found it amusing how humble he was. Perhaps you shouldn’t be so surprised, Lord Liu Kang never seemed the type of be pretentious so why would his champion.

“Please, enjoy the banquet while you still can. And if you could, inform your friend I’ll be there with his wine.”

He nodded, a smile etching back onto his warm features.

“Of course, have a goodnight.”

The man walked away, back into the chattering dining hall. With you alone your fingertips play with the rough fabric in your hands.

“He was right…This isn’t high quality at all.”

end of pg. 1

errmm baby’s first fic i hope you guys enjoyed!! if the grammar is off please just comment and i’ll fix it, i wrote this in one take and i’m sick + dyslexic so be patient 🙏🙏. anyways im hoping for this to be multiple parts if people decently enjoy…i pinky promise to give the reader more personality besides being anxious abt work. okay byeee :p

[blissfullyecho]

how to start living in your “it girl” era | 2023 🍸 pt. 1

this is just a fun, random list. feel free to start implementing these ideas into your life to make you feel more like you’re in your “it girl” era 🤍 again: this is meant to be fun. no negativity please.

i. when at lounges, casinos, cocktail bars, nice restaurants, etc.

if you’re of age, try ordering more “upscale” beverages at the bar like classic cocktails (the manhattan, negroni, martini, etc.), wine, or champagne.

it’s also more fun to go during the downtime, late night hours on the weeknight (monday-thursday… even though thursday might start getting busy). unless you want to be in a louder environment where everyone and their mom is on top of each other, ordering over your shoulder because the bar is packed, then go at more quieter times. dressing up nicely, going to a nice establishment, and ordering a nice drink when it’s dimly lit, upscale, and there’s only a few people in there is such a vibe.

if you can, try ordering an uber luxe/premium to the restaurant or valet your car. ***make sure to tip***

ii. when at home

lounge in nice quality pj’s. silk/satin shorts and a sleepy shirt work very well. if it’s cold, opt for longer sleeves and pant legs.

drink water or any beverage you have in a glass, not the bottle or the can it came in.

of course, keep your place smelling good and clean. burn a high quality candle (i find that the expensive candles are definitely worth the money). for a home fragrance, lean less towards scents like vanilla, and more towards scents that are more perfume-like.

if you’re in the process of adding decor to your place, a lot of luxe interior designers like to add those random “art” pieces like sculptures, bowls, paintings, and other random decor around. but they like to keep the furniture minimal. the ambience is almost always natural sunlight during the day, and dark, dim, moody lighting during the evening.

iii. your social media

remain mysterious— posting several times a day, everyday is a bit much. unless you’re an influencer, limit posting to a few times a week, if that. “oh she posted again” doesn’t necessarily scream that you have a life.

keep your photos of similar quality with one another. using the same filter or preset keeps everything uniform if social media matters to you.

refrain from posting when you’re not at your best. refrain from posting you venting about something. be mindful of what you post. does it represent you as a person?

iv. your attitude (to others and yourself)

don’t be a rude person. don’t be bitter. don’t be resentful. don’t be negative. don’t gossip about others. don’t participate in the weird trend of self-deprecating “humor”. you should know you’re that girl, and you should move like her too. you should act in a way that you won’t accept nothing but the best, but still remain humble enough to know that it might take a bit of work on your part. raise your standards with men, raise your standards with friends, raise your standards with yourself. don’t compare your journey or yourself to others, even if they’re on a similar journey. be kind, be loving, and keep it moving on a positive note at all times

again, this was just a FUN post. if you wanna implement some of these ideas, perfect. if not, that’s fine too. love you lots xoxo

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dude as a big girl i already hated Torrid bc i don't want to wear a big ugly cheaply made blouse with an ugly floral or an ugly band logo. Or a big ugly dress that doesn't fit bc I'm also short. They're so over priced for actual garbage.

EXCEPT THEY HAD O N E thing that was really good. Their black leggings were great. Thick fabric. Lasted forever. Didn't pill on the thighs. Rarely ripped (for me at least). I had some of these leggings for YEARS and i exclusively wear leggings (sometimes shorts but not from torrid lol)

And they managed to fuck that up too. At some point they changed how they made them and the quality is so FUCKING bad. I replaced a pair (the ones with the holes and fishnets) bc my pair finally ripped on the butt but i had it for like 5 years. I also replaced a regular schmegular pair of black leggings. The site doesn't help when there's 12 different names for essentially the same product. But i wasn't even ordering ones with pockets lol and they came with pockets but the stitching is visible on the outside. Like I'm sorry to the poor sweatshop worker this is not your fault fast fashion is this crap and it was probably one of a billion you were making for pennies. I do not fault you at all. But i fucking fault Torrid bc if you're gonna give me shitty fucking leggings don't charge me THIRTY AMERICAN DOLLARS for this.

I'm gonna look elsewhere from now on buti hate trying to find good regular black leggings that don't roll or rip or pill. The pilling is the worst.

The LAST time i bought leggings from torrid i bought the premium ones and that has a huge rip on the eye bc i put my finger through it doing something as crazy as PUTTING THEM ON. And the waist kept sliding down.

THE ONE THING Torrid was good for was the leggings. So now they're good for absolutely nothing. If I'm gonna wear shitty leggings i can just go to target for fucks sake

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Snitch: 

Take advantage of the newest styles by donning one of Snitch's attractive shirts. Snitch offers something for everyone, regardless of whether you're an exercise fanatic or just enjoy dressing to reflect who you are. Snitch graphic shirts for men makes sure you stand distinct from everyone else anywhere you go by blending premium fabrics with trendy patterns. Snitch provides a wide range of shirts that infuse your closet with individuality, from statement patterns to detailed drawings. So, instead of settling for average, use Snitch to present an appeal. 

Grecilooks:  

Grecilooks offers a variety of effortlessly stylish shirts to suit any fashion preference. Their selection of fashionable men's cotton shirts perfectly combines comfort and style. Grecilooks' shirts are made to help you look and feel your best if you're dressed up for a casual get-together or need anything stylish for a night on the town. With so many elegant printed shirts for men from Grecilooks to pick from, you can easily locate the ideal shirt to add flair to your outfit without going over budget. 

Cantabil:  

Men who value classic style and trendy flare can find a variety of shirts at Cantabil to fit all occasions. Cantabil offers a wide selection of stylish shirts to suit every taste, from trendy casual shirts for men to formal ones that look great from day to night. With meticulous attention to detail and high-quality craftsmanship, Cantabil ensures you appear put-together and fashionable without exceeding what you can afford. 

Highlander:  

With the selection of outdoor shirts for men from Highlander, you may express your passion for adventure. These shirts are made to last and function well, making them ideal for enjoying the great outdoors while looking fashionable and comfortable. Additionally, Highlander's plaid pattern shirts are a classic choice for regular use on occasions when you wish to embody a tough yet elegant look. You can traverse anything in style with Highlander. 

Roadster:  

Prepare to elevate your everyday look with Roadster's selection of urban streetwear shirts, urbanites. Roadster's shirts are edgy, stylish, and casually advanced, perfect for the modern male who doesn't mind making a statement. Additionally, their selection of urban streetwear shirts for men lends a sense of rough appeal to any ensemble, making them perfect for those carefree days when you want to look advanced but still laid back. You can confidently explore the concrete wilderness with Roadster. 

Conclusion 

In conclusion, you may update your clothing collection without going over budget if you use these top 5 shirt brands under ₹1000. There is plenty suitable for each fashion-forward person, from Snitch's sporty performance shirts to Grecilooks' chic cotton shirts for guys. Why then wait? Nowadays, up your fashion game by making an impact without breaking the bank! 

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Typing: Dissecting 'One Son' (Part I)

In answer to one of my Typing Topics (that I put out to see if readers were interested), One Son's "You're making this personal" was one of the first requested. So, I doubled down and rewatched the episode (frame by frame) to get premium quality for this analysis and definitive answers for the angst floating around this touchy conversation. It was an enlightening experience; and has since become a favorite episode of mine (if I ignore the canon bugs.)

I will list the explanations, as close to frame-by-frame as I could fit in this post, and then a summary of Mulder's Hows and Whys by Type at the bottom.

Now, onto the episode analysis--

ONE SON

One Son begins with Mulder and Scully being separated from Cassandra and spirited away to Fort Marlene as part of an interception mission.

Fort Marlene

In the showers, Mulder takes a prolonged "is this allowed?" look while Scully errs on the side of deniability with a "blink and you'll miss it" peek.

After they've gowned up, Scully deduces their location based on travel time and quarantine capabilities (and impresses Mulder); but all her suspicions are dialed up to 10 when Diana Fowley walks through the door.

Although Diana "begs for forgiveness and understanding", Scully grills her for reasons why they were quarantined and huffs at Fowley's explanations. When Diana claims Cassandra's condition was immediately infectious and severe, she rebuts: “What?”; but politely nods along as the woman continues.

Mulder is immediately satisfied when Diana's basic answers (stating that Jeffrey Spender had called the information in);

but Scully gears up for a full-frontal assault.

She refutes Diana’s claims, stating Cassandra was already hospitalized for days and that they’d met with her, they hadn't been infected, and that Fowley had scooped her up on a whim. “It’s unjustified and highly suspicious as to motive.” 

Mulder starts getting tense and tries to deescalate with a "Scully."

Diana plays into the tension by asking Scully what she is implying, treating her like an idiot for positing basic medical inquiry. Scully insists no one else in infected, basing her assumptions on the fact that Diana “walking in here dressed to the nines to offer apologies masquerading as explanations.” 

While Mulder appears to be tuned out-- whispering to the med team,

and wincing at their bloodwork tests--

he immediately “Scully--”s at her blatant insinuation of Diana's motives, making a mild “we’re on the same team here” face.

(This is a prime example of Mulder's Se Trickster showing-- he can't accurately read the motives of others and assumes that Diana would never do something like that. See Missteps below for more info.)

Scully gently reiterates: “Mulder, I want to see Cassandra.”

When Fowley refuses to permit Scully, and Scully keep pushing with "I'm a medical doctor", Diana sharply spits out: “Who is suspended indefinitely from her position at the FBI.” 

Scully gets angry, rips off the arm cuff, and storms out.

Mulder doesn’t comment,

but also looks away from Diana’s “I tried, it’s your turn” eyebrow. His face is resolved to some course of action.  

In the lockers, Mulder tries to diffuse Scully’s tension with a “gray is the new black” joke, 

and even agrees with her “Mulder, this stinks” opener.  

But his candor drops when she calls Diana “that woman”, crossing his arms and tightening up his face. 

Scully sees him tense and drops her rant. “Well, I think you know what I think that woman is.” 

Mulder tries to recover the mood again with a second joke-- “No, you hide your feelings really well”--

but it falls flat because there are too many brewing emotions between the two of them.

Nonetheless, they are still talking amicably to each other, even when Scully tries to poke holes in Diana’s story and Mulder backs it up with confirmation from Skinner (who had called about Jeffrey Spender.)

Her gut is telling her she’s right, but she has no proof; and when she tries to insist that Cassandra was miraculously healthy, Mulder asks: “Well then why did she come to my apartment demanding to be killed?”

He is taken aback by Scully’s impassioned speech:

“Because of everything that had been done to her. Because of the tests, because of the men the medical experiments, and the implant in her neck….”

It dawns on him that this may be how Scully has been suffering; it disturbs him that she might have considered the steps that Cassandra did.

From this point on, Mulder is convinced that Scully is taking this case too personally, projecting her own trauma of the men who abducted her onto Cassandra and vilifying Diana by extension. He understands being twisted by the men in shadows because of the endless stories they've fed him about Samantha; but Scully has gone through so many variations of her own story that it's not clean cut for him anymore.

His tone moderates, but his heels dig in further. He believes his assessment is further bolstered by Scully stating “The same thing that was done to me. She just wants it to stop.” 

Mulder realizes Cassandra is “the one” for the Project, and that is why she wanted to be killed. Scully willingly accepts this explanation; but it only digs up further questions.  

After Mulder is released and gains information from Marita, he answers Scully's call to meet up at TLG's for something important.  

TLG Headquarters 

When Mulder arrives, Scully quickly says: “I’ll ask you to hear me out before you launch any objection.” He nods, perfectly fine with that stipulation. But when he realizes it's about Scully's suspicions of Diana, he gives a huffy "of course" sigh.

Interesting to note: my memories of this conversation were tainted by my hatred of Diana and my disbelief at Mulder's refusal to believe; but rewatching it was... enlightening, to say the least.

While Mulder at first tries to dismiss the conversations (“I don’t have time for this"), he then switches to a plea with Scully (“I… know her, Scully." *softer* "You don’t") before resigning himself to what the boys have dug up for him.

At first, he deflects Diana's records by fake gasping-- snippily remarking on their lack of concrete evidence, then convulsively nodding so that they hurry up and get to the point--

but he becomes alert and intrigued when Scully brings up Diana's weekly trips to Tunisia (since it was a constant Consortium hot spot.)

He asks intently for more evidence (“For the purpose of what?”) and expects a GOOD reason.

(Ti Hero needing SOLID, irrefutable, and TONS of evidence to change its mind, or not at all.)

When TLG present him with European MUFON visits, all his suspicions vanish again, and his slightly condescending attitude returns, placing all of their conjectures into the realm of conspiracy theories.

This whole conversation, Mulder has been harshly dismissive of any point that TLG bring up, since they're the boys who are poking into his personal decisions; but now Scully takes over, and his demeanor shifts down a few notches. While annoyed, ("Scully, you’re reaching")

Mulder respectfully and empathetically listens to her speech recapping her experiences with her MUFON groupies. His worry for her still peaks through his defensiveness (scrunched in brows, screwed up mouth, etc.) But what's interesting is: his anger is not directed AT Scully, but FOR Scully-- that she had to live through these horrors, that the men who ruined his childhood have mangled her happiness; and further, that they're weaponizing her pain to turn them both against Diana. He senses manipulation; but misdiagnoses its source.

Mulder remains convinced Scully has become too blinded by her personal experiences; and he overcorrects in an attempt counteract her outright dislike and distrust of Diana.

Scully becomes insulted when Mulder sums her claims up by saying she's "suggesting" that Diana is monitoring abductees-- flicking her tongue out (which is her verbal tick for "biting her tongue.")

Scully tries to compose herself before launching into the firsthand experiences of being an abductee; and repeats Mulder's words back to show that she'd respected his opinions enough to recall them. Mulder returns that respect by easing up even more on the pressure, seeing her emotions are uncontrollably near the surface. His concern over her personalization only increases as she places herself in Cassandra's shoes, proving to himself that her rationality cannot be relied on in this scenario.

Mulder may be giving her full lead, but he is not giving up ground. As she continues to argue her points, he follows her logic, half-hoping she will change his mind just like she and TLG hope she can though the thought of Diana's betrayal cuts him to the quick (more furrowed brows, tightening of the jaw, etc.)

Scully desperately needs his belief; but loses him when she inadvertently touches on his greatest fear:  

“Mulder, ask yourself why there is no information whatsoever on Special Agent Diana Fowley; why she would suddenly happen into your life when you are closer than ever to the Truth.”

His open-minded willingness to listen is quickly shut down, and he swivels away from the conversation with a final toss of his head.

Mulder's raw fear-- that he won't be accepted (Fe Inferior) is blinding him to Diana's actions (Se Trickster), afraid to look deeper into her motives; and satisfied that he hasn't been given enough data to change his Ti Hero's mind.

At Scully's “I mean, you ask me to trust no one and yet you trust her on simple faith" he becomes offended and angry.

“Because you’ve given me no reason here to do otherwise.”

Scully is devastated-- “Well then I can’t help you anymore"-- and immediately starts to leave.  (her immediate "cut and run" Ni Demon Function rearing its head.)

Mulder swings around, tracking her with his whole body, and shows the first real sign of his insecurity and teeming emotions. And this, while vulnerable and starting to get scared, is when he says the line:

“Scully, you’re making this personal.”

His brown is furrowed in worry, his mouth is loose, his jaw is unclenched, and his posture is tight as he pivots in Scully's direction. If he had been dismissive, or rude, or belittling, Scully would not only have never called him (which she does later in this episode) again, but she would have walked out forever.

He moves in closer as Scully responds: “Because this is personal, Mulder. Because without the FBI, personal interest is all that I have. And if you take that away, then there is no reason for me to continue.”

Unlike the Fight the Future confrontation, she is unshaken, knowing her worth and value. She is letting Mulder make his permanent choice, and is prepared to respect whatever he decides, even if he believes Diana is a better fit.

Scully's Si Hero has led her all these years on Mulder's quest: placing her in the Starbuck role naturally to a cause greater than herself, feeding him Te Parent information to give his mind constant hoards of verifiable data. She has set all else aside, believing this quest to be more important that her own Fi Child comfort, and trying to save the future and bravely face the unknown with her Ne Inferior. But as much as this life with Mulder has fulfilled her completely, Scully needs someone to LISTEN to her: if she is not listened to, then she is not valued. And if she is not valued, she will use her Ni Demon to cut ties and permanently walk away. As much as she sacrifices willingly and without reciprocation needed, she expects to depend just as much on that other person; otherwise, there can be no trust.

The scene ends on Mulder's resolved face, setting up his next step (to prove if his own biases are true or false by interrogating Diana.)

He chooses to see if Scully’s right or wrong (his Te Nemesis using its worries for good, see Missteps below.) 

Now, onto the Type information--

Mulder's Missteps

For a full breakdown of Mulder's Type to better explain this post, see my Mulder, The Spooky INTP post (linked here.)

Mulder's dominant Function, Ti Hero, is all about the Truth: what can be proven, not what others SAY is true. It's pure, unadulterated logic; its flaw, however, is becoming immovably fixed in its convictions (having weighed the pros and cons meticulously to reach whatever conclusion they believe in.) It requires mountains of evidence, and continents more of firsthand accounts as well as repeatable research to budge them into a new direction. Much patience and verification is needed. (We can all see where this is trending.)

In this case: Mulder REFUSES to budge from considering Diana a trustworthy friend or person at all. Although he is at least willing to listen to Scully's concerns (because his Ti Hero knows that his Te Nemesis-- fear of faulty information-- is always demanding he check his biases), there is not enough evidence to point to as irrefutable evidence. And, although Ti Hero is willing to weigh all information in the balance, it will not implement it as Truth unless it is given enough time to prove itself beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Mulder's vanity and insecurity Function, Fe Inferior, is always seeking acceptance from others. It makes him one of the easiest to guilt and exploit of all the Types, because Fe believes that it can earn trust and love from others by bending over backwards. They will do ANYTHING for those they trust, including letting themselves be continually used as a rug mat for others' treacherous feet. (It is not until INTPs mature that they realize they must find self-acceptance instead of over dependence on others; and because of their high Si in their stack, this is fairly easy for them to achieve through self-reflection on what they've achieved and overcome.)

In this case: Mulder's low self-esteem coupled with his emotional abandonment as a child and his isolation at the FBI makes him lean heavily on the few people he trusts. This is easily used against him by bad faith actors wanting to bring about their own end goals. Diana twisted it by calling upon their long time friendship(?), leaving enough doubt in his mind of her innocence. The horror that she would have never accepted him or his mission, even as a loyal friend, was such a blow that it would take that mountain of evidence for Ti Hero to accept it as fact.

Mulder's worry, Te Nemesis, keeps him continually fact checking all information that he believes in, reinforcing his Ti Hero with constantly updated data. He is afraid that others are feeding him wrong or biased sources, and thus continually peer reviews the thoughts of those around them to see if they pass muster.

In this case: It saves Mulder's bacon. When Scully lays all her cards on the table-- about Diana, and MUFON, and her personal interest-- Mulder decides to heed his Te Nemesis's warning, and checks on Diana, his source, to see if she is still reputable. Which leads him right to the CSM (who further muddles his mind and sends him into apathetic Fi Demon.)

Mulder's blind spot, Se Trickster, not only blinds him to his own weird quirks and inadequate reactions or behaviors; but it also prevents him from accurately reading the actions of those around him (being led around by Pheobe Green, having his work stolen by Jerry Lamana, misinformed by CSM and informants, etc.)

In this case: every action Diana made was never suspicious to Mulder, because he interpreted all of them in good faith. His trust in her is already established, and it blinded him to her end goal and obvious double motives.

Mulder's most powerful and corruption Function, Fi Demon, leads him straight into apathetic debauchery. If they are exploited and beaten down and unappreciated, INTPs can only take so much before they toss the whole world aside and collapse into self-indulgent destruction. The only way to snap them out of this mode is to awaken their Fe Inferior by slightly manipulating them ("you're hurting my feelings", "you're not meeting my needs", etc.)

In this case: Mulder finds out that not only has Diana Fowley been using him-- or misdirecting him-- for her own purposes; but that he'd been used and placated for years by the very people he was trying to expose and depose. As CSM weaves his tragic, hopeless tale of self-pity, Mulder sinks further and further into apathy, finally punishing himself by resigning himself to being with Diana, fellow nihilist to the cause in an attempt to right the wrongs he'd "done" to Scully. Thankfully, Scully snaps him out of his apathy and gets him to drive with her to Potomac Yard.

End of Part 1-- Part 2 coming soon-ish.

Enjoy!

Disclaimers: This is a self-assessed analysis. This information is not based on the abominable MBTI system (which has been butchered from its original Jungian typology since ~WWII); instead, it’s a combination between the works of Jung’s type psychology, Dr. Linda Berens’ Communication styles, Dr. Dario Nardi’s EEG brain scan compiled research, and others’ data and practices as compiled and simplified by CSJoseph. This system is based only on the Nature side of Nature/Nurture; and each “type” is not a “box” to fit everyone into– simply a tool to help understand the basics of the human mind that science has only begun to fathom in its limited scope.

[chic-a-gigot]

Le Petit écho de la mode, no. 19, vol. 17, 12 mai 1895, Paris. 1. Notre robe et notre chapeau primes. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

Notre robe prime:

Le printemps caniculaire qui subitement a fondu sur nous, nous oblige à nous préoccuper au plus vite des robes fraîches et élégantes que réclame le radieux soleil. Encouragés par le succès que nos abonnées ont bien voulu faire à nos chapeaux primes, nous venons leur offrir aujourd'hui, dans des conditions exceptionnellement avantageuses, deux délicieuses robes dont l’étoffe et l’exécution sont d’une qualité et d’une distinction parfaites. L’une en piqué à mille raies, genre haute nouveauté, se fait en bien des teintes. Les principales sont: rose et blanc, mauve.et blanc, bleu et blanc, bleu foncé et blanc, fond noir à filets blancs, fond prune à filets blancs.

La jupe est en forme, à godets très accentués, et le corsage-blouse avec grand col marin forme nouvelle orné de Valenciennes, est orné d’un pli qui prenant de l’encolure se termine dans la ceinture. Le prix de cette jolie robe est de 39 francs. Pour la recevair en boîte et franco, adresser un mandat-poste à M. Orsoni, 67, rue de Grenelle.

Notre seconde robe, en magnifique crépon tout laine à grosses côtes, convient à toutes les femmes et à tous les âges. On peut choisir parmi les teintes les plus variées et les plus distinguées, du bleu bleuet, très à la mode, du marron, tabac et noir, celle qui plaît le mieux. Du reste, des échantillons sont envoyés à"toute personne qui eu fera la demande. La façon de cette jolie toilette est la même que celle du costume dépiqué. Son prix est de 49 francs, frais d’expédition compris.

Il suffit, pour l'exécution parfaite de ce costume, de donner simplement la longueur de la jupe et le numéro du mannequin qui correspond à sa taille; du reste, le corsage forme blouse est toujours facile à rectifier.

L’exécution de la commande durera 10 jours.

Toute demande doit être adressée à M. Orsoni, 67, rue de Grenelle, accompagnée d'un mandat-poste; il n’est fait aucun envoi contre remboursement; bien indiquer la gare destinataire.

—

The scorching spring which has suddenly swooped down on us, forces us to worry as quickly as possible about the fresh and elegant dresses that the radiant sun demands. Encouraged by the success that our subscribers have kindly made to our premium hats, we come to offer them today, under exceptionally advantageous conditions, two delicious dresses whose fabric and execution are of a quality and perfect distinctions. One in a thousand-stripe piqué, a high-novelty type, is made in many shades. The main ones are: pink and white, mauve and white, blue and white, dark blue and white, black background with white stripes, plum background with white stripes.

The skirt is shaped, with very accentuated godets, and the bodice-blouse with a large sailor collar in a new form decorated with Valenciennes, is adorned with a pleat which extends from the neckline and ends in the waistband. The price of this pretty dress is 39 francs. To receive it boxed and free, send a money order to Mr. Orsoni, 67, rue de Grenelle.

Our second dress, in a magnificent all-wool seersucker with large ribs, is suitable for all women and all ages. You can choose from the most varied and distinguished shades, cornflower blue, very fashionable, brown, tobacco and black, the one you like best. For the rest, samples are sent to anyone who requests it. The fashion of this pretty toilet is the same as that of the quilted costume. Its price is 49 francs, shipping costs included.

It is enough, for the perfect execution of this costume, to simply give the length of the skirt and the number of the mannequin which corresponds to its size; moreover, the blouse-like bodice is always easy to rectify.

The execution of the order will last 10 days.

All requests must be addressed to Mr. Orsoni, 67, rue de Grenelle, accompanied by a money order; no COD shipment is made; clearly indicate the destination station.

—

Explication du chapeau prime:

Chapeau de jardin en beau paillasson paille, couvert de guipure écrue, orné devant d’un joli nœud ruban satin paille et de feuillage posé en cache-peigne. Nos lectrices pourront se procurer ce joli modèle au prix de 5 fr. 85 en adressant un mandat-poste à M. Orsoni, 67, rue de Grenelle. Nous n’expédions pas contre remboursement.

—

Garden hat in beautiful straw paillasson, covered with ecru guipure, adorned in front with a pretty straw satin ribbon bow and foliage placed as a comb cover. Our readers will be able to obtain this pretty model at the price of 5 fr. 85 by sending a money order to Mr. Orsoni, 67, rue de Grenelle. We do not ship cash on delivery.

[notwiselybuttoowell]

Called Infinna, the fibre is already being used by global brands including Patagonia, H&M and Inditex, which owns Zara. "It's a premium quality textile fibre, which looks and feels natural - like cotton," says Mr Alava, rubbing his own navy blue tee between his fingers. "And it is solving a major waste problem."

Around the world, an estimated 92 million tonnes of textiles waste is created each year, according to non-profit Global Fashion Agenda, and this figure is set to rise to more than 134 million tonnes by 2030, if clothing production continues along its current track.

To the untrained eye, samples of Infinited Fiber's recycled fibre resemble lambswool; soft, fluffy and cream coloured. Mr Alava explains that the product is produced through a complex, multi-step process which starts with shredding old textiles and removing synthetic materials and dyes, and ends with a new fibre, regenerated from extracted cellulose.

This finished fibre can then simply "hop into the traditional production processes" used by High Street brands, replacing cotton and synthetic fibres, to produce everything from shirts and dresses to denim jeans.

Much of the science involved in making the fibre has been around since the 1980s, says Mr Alava, but rapid technological advancements in the last few years have finally made large-scale production a more realistic possibility.

In parallel, he believes High Street brands have become more focused on "really honestly looking for changing their material usage", while millennial and Gen Z consumers are increasingly concerned about shopping sustainably. "They are different animals, different consumers, to people my age," he laughs.

The company has already attracted so much interest in its technology that it recently announced it was investing €400m (£345m; $400m) to build its first commercial-scale factory at a disused paper mill in Lapland.

The goal is to produce 30,000 tonnes of fibre a year once it's operating at full capacity in 2025. That is equivalent to the fibre needed for approximately 100 million T-shirts.

"I think the impact could be quite big, if you think about the whole textile system, what exists currently and how much textile waste that we have," argues Kirsi Niinimäki, an associate professor in fashion research at Aalto University, a few blocks away from Infinited Fiber's headquarters.

"It's a really good example of actually how we can 'close the loop'… really begin to move to a circular economy."

Infinited Fiber's growth is tied into a wider vision in Finland, which wants to become Europe's leading circular economy, with a focus on reusing and saving resources. In 2016, it became the first government in the world to create a national road map designed to help reach its goal.

Several other Finnish start-ups are looking at ways to produce new textile fibres on a big scale, while also cutting down on harmful emissions and chemicals. These include Spinnova which, from its textiles factory in Jyväskylä, central Finland, transforms cellulose from raw wood pulp into ready-to-spin fibres.

Spinnova's yarn is attracting plenty of global attention and has so far been used by brands including upmarket Finnish clothing label Marimekko, and outdoor wear firms North Face, Bergans and Adidas, which recently used it in a limited edition midlayer hoodie designed for hikers.

Elsewhere in Europe, there are a range of other companies developing technologies to create more circular yarns, including Swedish startup Renewcell, and Bright.fiber Textiles, which plans to open its first factory in the Netherlands in 2023.

But experts say there are a range of challenges facing these new fibre brands as they plot their expansions.

Ms Niinimäki underlines that the clothing manufacturing sector has, until recently, been slower than many other industries when it comes to embracing sustainability, which could set the tone for a slower transformation than companies like Spinnova and Infinited Fiber hope.

"It has been so easy to produce the way that we have been producing, and just to move towards more effective industrial manufacturing on an increasingly bigger scale," she says.

"There hasn't been a big pressure to change the already existing system." However, she is hopeful that, in the European Union at least, new rules aimed at ensuring clothing manufacturers focus on more sustainable and durable products will speed up "a change in mindsets".

Another issue is whether clothing brands will be able to pass on the additional costs of their new high-tech production techniques on to consumers, especially at a time when the cost of living is spiralling globally.

Adidas' latest limited edition hoodie produced with Spinnova fabric costs €160 (£137; $160) to buy online in Finland, at least €40 more than most of its other technical hoodies.

"Fashion is a complicated area, because even if people are saying that they are environmentally aware, they don't always act rationally," says Ms Niinimäki. "There's also this kind of emotional side when you talk about fashion consumption, and of course, the price is also linked to that."

While both Infinited Fiber and Spinnova insist their business plans look holistically at all aspects of production - for example using renewable technologies to power their factories - climate campaigners argue it is still too early to accurately estimate the net effect of these new techniques on carbon emissions.

"Pulp and other alternative fibres can provide diversity for sourcing textile materials and therefore lessen the burden caused by production of more traditional textile raw materials such as cotton," says Mai Suominen, a leading forest expert for WWF. "However it depends on the use of energy, all the processes they use and how they use waste materials."

Most importantly, she argues, simply slotting more sustainable fibres into the multibillion dollar fashion industry won't be enough to combat climate change, if we keep making and buying clothes at the current rate.

There is no sustainable development unless the overall natural resource consumption is radically decreased to a level that fits within planetary boundaries," she argues.

But within the Finnish fibres industry there is a sense of boomtown optimism that the increased use of recycled or reimagined fibres could be an important part of the jigsaw in the battle to limit climate change.

"The fast-fashion companies who have been kind of creating certain parts of the problem are highly interested in new technologies," says Infinited Fibers chief executive Petri Alva. He believes that if investment continues, the recycled fibres could become mainstream within ten to 15 years.