#ive never heard that Paul and Carrie had a dog so like did they just aqquire one specifically for this photoshoot?

[paul-simon-juggling]

hello sorry i have no idea how tumblr works so idk were i have to write to answer your question abt the photoshoot with paul and carrie but. to answer your question, it was for the mv of rene and georgette magritte w their dog after the war!! you can find it here :) https://youtu.be/0vDAubIlYOs

Omg thank you!! I made a Rene and Georgette Magritte w/ their dog after the war joke in the tags and everything wow. Well, that explains why they look like timetravellers!!

I've never seen this music video before. I appreciate all of the visual Magritte references but damn, someone sure was excited to squeeze every available transition effect into one video and make everyone feel like they're having a stroke. (I'm sure this was very cool at the time lmao.)

Thank you so much for sharing this! /gen

I see the vision now and by God, they understood the assignment. I now appreciate this photoshoot tenfold.

[heavenseed76]

Contentment

Rating:G

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Summary: Daryl saves Paul from certain death and some truths are revealed

Warnings: Mentions of blood, death, canon-typical violence

When mothers lift cars off their children it is not because their love or fear make them super strong. It is because adrenaline will make a person immune to the sensation of pain. Their muscles and tendons are often irreparably damaged. Human beings will tear themselves apart for the people they love. Daryl Dixon was no different.

He couldn’t recall how he was able to get to Michonne’s horse, nor how he hauled the limp form of his friend onto the horse with him. He was vaguely aware that he could hear Dog whimpering somewhere behind him, punctuating the sound of another horse beside him. In his arms, Paul Rovia, wrapped in a saddle blanket, armor long forgotten, slumped forward. Every few minutes Daryl could feel the man tense beneath his arm, locked as if it was welded across Paul’s chest. The man in his arms was in pain, barely breathing, but thankfully alive. Daryl couldn’t think beyond getting Paul back to Hilltop, to Enid, to safety.

Riding in the fog made a trip that would have taken eons stretch even further. There was no sense of distance, nothing to mark the passing of the miles. The trip, longer still holding his friend’s life in his hands, seemed like a dream: the ubiquitous nightmare where you try to reach someone at the end of a long path and the faster you run, the further away they become. With each gallop, Daryl could feel Paul’s life spilling out onto his chest, his arms, soaking the blanket he was wrapped in. He could feel the labored breath, deep pulls of air that went nowhere. At first Paul held on to Daryl’s arm as they rode, though they eventually fell away, too weak to hold on.

Through the fog, Daryl heard Aaron yelling for the sentries to open the gate at Hilltop before Daryl even saw the walls. Aaron kicked his horse into a sprint and easily passed Daryl’s horse. Seeing the end in sight, Daryl pressed his own heels into the flanks of the beast on which he rode and urged the animal to go faster. He followed Aaron straight to the medical trailer, where Enid and Alden were already helping him off his horse.

“No!” Aaron kept the wiggly bundle in his arms from slipping and motioned to Enid and Alden to help Daryl. “Get Jesus!” Without waiting for them to acknowledge him, Aaron rushed into the medical trailer.

Daryl brought his horse up short next to Aarons, and then there were too many hands, too many faces below him, pushing and pulling at Paul. At Enid’s insistence, her eyes full of dread and sympathy, Daryl broke the iron grip he had around Paul and let him slip gently into the waiting arms of Alden and Siddiq, who wasted no time making room for Henry and Kal to help carry his pale body into the trailer. He dismounted Michonne’s horse, letting someone with gentle hands take the reigns from him. He stood staring at the door, behind which two of the people he cared for most in the world could be dying, or worse, turning… Along with his beloved Dog.

He felt familiar hands on his arms, attempting to turn him aware from the trailer, and distantly heard soft words filter through the fog filling his mind, urging him to come away. Hot, angry tears spilled over and silently marked his blood-stained face and suddenly he was unable to catch his breath. He wanted to rush in and pull Paul back into his arms and never let go. If he died… If Paul turned… he needed to be there for that. But Aaron was in there, and he wanted to keep his friend from suffering that end alone.

“Daryl, come get cleaned up.” Carol’s voice was a solid mass he could anchor himself to, as his grief threatened to let him float away like ashes. He started to let her lead him into Barrington House, when Aaron came through the trailer door.

Eyes red, brows pulled in to etch lines of worry into his forehead, Aaron quickly made his way to Daryl.

“Dog’s gonna be OK. Paul…” Aaron’s voice wavered, but he swallowed and carried on. “Paul’s fighting. His lung collapsed and he lost a lot of blood.” Without warning Daryl pulled his friend into his arms, and with a sob he had been holding in the entire journey, Aaron hugged him back, fingers fisting in the worn leather of his vest. Watching them, the lump in Carol’s throat grew, and she had to cover her mouth with both hands to keep her cry from tearing a hole in the comforting bubble the men had made.

***

The sun burned away the fog that had settled over Hilltop, and the morning promised a beautiful day ahead. At a picnic table near the medical trailer, Aaron and Daryl sat vigil, their backs against the edge of the table top. Aaron absently cleaned his prosthetic arm with a rusty can of WD40 and a ragged bandana he kept for the express purpose. Like the Tin Man. Daryl thought. They were both clean, in clothes that didn’t smell like gore. Carol had not been able to coax either man into eating or trying to sleep.

“We’ve wasted so much time.” Aaron sighed and set the rag he’d been using aside. “This is a big damned wake-up call.” He was used to companionable silence with Daryl, used to holding up both ends of a conversation, so when Daryl didn’t respond, he just kept talking. “We’ve been lucky. To make it this long. But this world is still just as dangerous as it ever was. I feel so stupid…”

Daryl chewed his bottom lip, listening. He had been there when Aaron dove head first into being a father to Gracie, burying Eric’s death deep beneath the needs of a tiny, new being. It occupied his mind, it gave him an outlet for his affection and focused his energy. It did not, however, fill the gaping love-shaped void left when Eric’s corpse walked off into the woods. It was one of the many ways Daryl felt he had failed everyone in his life; it was one of the many reasons he walked off into the woods That Day, and didn’t look back. The seams holding his family together tore open That Day, and try as he might, he alone didn’t have the strength to stitch it back together. Neither did anyone else, apparently.

“I did it for you, you know.” Daryl said, his voice gravel in his throat.

Aaron turned his expressive blue eyes to Daryl’s, not having expected a two-way conversation. “Did what?”

Daryl looked away, unsure of himself. “Saved him. I know you two… I know he means a lot to you. I saw Dog attack that walker, and heard you yell, and I just, I don’t know man, I just couldn’t let him die…” Meeting Aaron’s eyes he said, “I didn’t want you to hurt no more.”

Something sparked in Aaron’s chest. Affection, love, gratitude… he didn’t know what or how many of those things he was feeling. He stared at Daryl for a long moment. There was only one thing he could think to say. “Thank you.” Aaron pressed infinitesimally closer into Daryl’s warm shoulder with his own.

Daryl nodded, glad he could make his friend smile, even if things didn’t turn out as well as they hoped. It had been hours, and except for Alden leaving to give Enid and Siddiq room to work, and getting Alex to come in to better assist, there had been little news of Paul’s welfare.

“I know you’ve been coming here to see him.” Daryl shifted nervously. “He make you happy?”

A man of few words, Daryl could say so much with so little effort. It took Aaron a moment to understand what Daryl was asking, and when the implication of the question hit him, he felt like he had been slapped. He scooted away from Daryl on the bench of the picnic table, so he could fully turn to face Daryl.

“You do know we’re just friends, right?” Aaron’s frown returned, and Daryl didn’t know how to respond. “We’re not… we’ve never… Jesus and I are good friends, that’s all.” Aaron watched confusion slide over the hunter’s face. If Paul weren’t dying behind the door of the medical trailer, Aaron may have laughed. “You know Jesus is… he’s in love with you!”

“No.” Daryl sat up taller, and Aaron could nearly see the walls being built around the other man.

“Yeah. He’s been in love with you since he brought you home from the Sanctuary! Daryl, how could you not know?”

The hunter stood, defiantly staring his friend down. “He don’t.” He tried to turn away, but Aaron was right there.

“He does. That’s what I meant! We all have to stop wasting time we might not have, Daryl!” Aaron grabbed Daryl’s bicep and swung around to face the stoic man. “I know you. I know you both. And if there’s anything I’m sure of, its that you two belong together. Even if I was interested, that man’s heart belongs to you!”

It was if the last brick fit into place in the fortress of Daryl’s heart. The realization that not only did Aaron see how he felt for Paul, but that Paul felt the same for him, and had made it a known fact. Overwhelmed with the severity of this revelation, Daryl’s dread swelled, and he felt as though all the oxygen had been sucked out of the world. The truth Aaron spoke filled his eyes with hot tears, of shame and joy and sickening worry. Seeing all this take shape in his friend, Aaron pulled him in for an awkward hug.

The harsh slap of the trailer door snapping closed brought the men up for air. Standing on the steps to the trailer was an exhausted Enid, covered in blood. Neither could move, holding their breath.

A smile bloomed on the woman’s face as she said simply, “He’ll be OK.”

***

In his own bed inside Barrington House, Paul Rovia looked smaller than Tara had ever seen him. The trip up the stairs and into the bed had worn him out, and he fell asleep almost immediately. He didn’t even flinch as she started a new IV in his hand. She watched him, his breath shallow and lips twisted in a pained expression. He was pale, his eyes sunken. Laying in his bed with only a bandage across his chest, his strong body laid bare and vulnerable, Tara took stock of all the things they would have lost if the man in front of her hadn’t made it home. Despite his reluctance, Paul was a good leader, and she tried every day to convince him of it. People loved and respected him because he was willing to go outside the walls and risk it all to strengthen them.

“How is he?” Daryl’s low rasp shook Tara from her reverie.

“Exhausted. He’s got some pain killers, so he’s comfortable enough to sleep.” Tara covered Paul in a thin blanket. “Come in. Sit. I’ll be back in a bit to check on him.” Sheepishly, Daryl entered the room, letting Tara give his arm and affectionate squeeze as she went past.

It had been several days since the cemetery, and Daryl had barely slept. Seeing Paul gravely injured had shifted something inside him, something Aaron had nudged to hang just the right way.

“Gonna keep watch on me?” Paul’s voice was just a whisper on his lips. He turned his palm up on the bed, an invitation.

Daryl sat on the edge of the bed, slipping his big hand into Paul’s smaller one. “Feelin OK?” He let his thumb caress the top of Paul’s hand.

Paul nodded, then winced, which Daryl caught even though he tried to hide it. “As long as I don’t move. Or breathe.” He gave a Daryl a thin smile. “You’re too far away.”

Daryl slipped off his boots and lay down beside Paul, mindful of the bandage across his chest. “This OK?”

Paul hummed affirmatively. His limbs were heavy, though he positioned himself close enough to lay he head on Daryl’s shoulder. He laced his fingers together with Daryl’s between their bodies. He could feel the other man relax against him, and if he hadn’t been so exhausted, Paul may have quipped at Daryl to make him blush.

“I’m sorry.” Daryl placed a firm, confident kiss on Paul’s forehead. “Wasted too many years. We have a chance now and I ain’t gonna fuck it up.” He reached over and felt the smooth skin of Paul’s temple with the back of his hand, reveling in the new-found ability to show his affection.

Paul took his hand, kissing the palm and then holding it to his chest, just above his bandage. “You better not. I love you, Daryl Dixon, but you know I will kick your ass.” Paul’s lips quirked up on one side and he peered at Daryl through heavy eyelids.

Daryl huffed a laugh and kissed Paul’s head again, snuggling into the warmth of the other man’s presence. They fell asleep, Paul holding Daryl’s hand to himself, so the hunter could feel every beat of his heart. That is where Dog found them, limping on a bandaged leg, letting Aaron help him into the bed to curl up at their feet, content.

[killerspectrum]

FAMILY ANNIHILATOR: BAD DADS

   Familicide: 

When the whole family is obliterated, usually in a single act, by a member of that family. 

Cases of fathers deliberately killing their wife and children is both shocking and increasing in frequency.   An overwhelming 70% of all family massacres are carried out by men.

Generally speaking, the act represents a last attempt to display a masculine role over the family.  I’m the father, so I decide!  

It has also been suggested that it’s a man’s general attitude to women and their reproductive nature.

Let’s see if we can understand a teeny bit of a very complicated and multifactorial crime.

COMMON CHARACTERISTICS

More likely than a woman to kill themselves afterwards.

Usually successful men in their 30s, ranging from surgeons, executives and engineers. 

Will spend days, sometimes weeks planning and fantasizing down to the smallest detail.

Murders mostly occur in the family home.

Younger children are often murdered with a 'personal weapon’ using their hands; strangulation or stabbing.

Older children are usually shot.

Feel like their masculinity is being taken away.

Sundays and the month of August are popular choices for fathers who pulverize.

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILES 

WHY DAD LOST HIS SHIT

FAMILY BREAK UP

Family disintegration is the #1 factor behind fathers who kill their own family, making divorce and separation a risky period for any potential household bloodshed.

UNDER PRESSURE

Even if a family is intact, other influences are overwhelming the individual with life duties to the extent they see death as the only way to alleviate the pressure.  Examples are health issues and financial ruin.  

SELF RIGHTEOUS

These type of killers are proud of what they have done and want to share details with others.  Convinced they are justified in some sick manner, this killer is known to call remaining family members or local media to make special announcements.  More recently, they are posting their deeds on Facebook.

DISAPPOINTED

This killer holds the mindset that his family let him down or he is unable to achieve his vision of ideal family life.

ANOMIC

This family is socially disorganized.  Alienated from family and support systems due to a move, loss of job or being generally secluded from others. 

PARANOID

Those who envision an external threat to the family.  This could be social services, the legal system or another family member which creates a twisted desire to protect the family from outside ‘forces’. 

MENTAL ILLNESS

People who commit spontaneous domestic homicides, are more often mentally ill or had a history of mental illness.  

JOEL SMITH

Murdered: (4)  Wife and three children.  Ages 12,7,4

Date:  July 12th, 2014

Location: Saco, Maine

Manner of death:  Shooting

The Smith family spent that last Saturday night having a BBQ outside their apartment complex and chatting with neighbors.   Described as looking calm and relaxed, the Smiths went inside their home around 9 pm. 

Just a few hours later, Joel shot his wife and three children with a shot gun, before killing himself.  Having recently moved from Arizona, Joel became despondent and depressed as the family struggled financially and a wife with substance abuse issues.  

Besides a previous suicide attempt, there was no history of abuse or noticeable signs of violence leading up to the slayings. 

ERVIN LUPOE

Murdered: (6)  Wife and 5 children, including two sets of twins.  Ages 8, 5 and 2

Date: January 27th 2009

Location: Wilmington, CA

Manner of death:  Shooting

Things started to unravel for the Lupoe Family when both parents were fired, simultaneously, from their job at the local hospital where they worked together as X-ray technicians. 

A few days after the loss of their jobs, he killed his wife and children in their upscale home with a revolver and spent the night with their corpses. 

The next day, Ervin calmly called the local news station to report the crimes and let them know he was sending over a fax: his suicide note.  He shot himself while the cops were en route.

In the note, Ervin explained that he and his wife were being investigated for misrepresenting their employment to an outside agency to obtain child care.   With 5 young children, he felt their financial situation was hopeless. 

Further in the letter, Ervin even attempted to claim his wife Ana was responsible planning and demise of their family.  As for the kids...

"Why leave our children in someone else's hands?"

FERNANDO MANRIQUE

Murdered: (4)  Wife and two children age 10 and 11

Date: October 16, 2016

Location: Near Sydney, Australia

Manner of death:  Carbon Monoxide

Neighbors couldn't figure out what the hell Mr. Manrique was doing on his roof that last Saturday.

"He was up there replacing tiles, using power tools...Cutting and making all sorts of noise...."

Mr. Manrique was not replacing roof tiles, but something a little more sinister. He spent his last day alive installing an elaborate pump system to fill his house with carbon monoxide in order to kill his wife and two special needs children. 

Because running-cars-in-garages is so cliche, Mr. Fancy Pants Engineer spent months designing the mechanism.   In Mr. Manrique’s mind, gassing his family while they slept seemed like a reasonable solution to an upcoming divorce.

   DANIEL LYNAM

Murdered: (7)  His parents, his wife and two children, age 2 years and 5 weeks, and her parents  

Date: July 11-12, 1987

Location:  Tacoma, WA

Manner of death:  Shooting

Over the course of a weekend, Daniel methodically killed several members of his family leaving behind three grisly crime scenes in his wake.   

After killing his own parents at their house for whatever reason, he drove over to his wife's parents house, about three miles away, shooting them all in the head.  Eventually, he drove back to his own house killing his wife and two kids in the same manner. 

Police received an anonymous tip the following day from a man who said his brother had killed people and directed them to the house on Federal Way. 

When the cops came, Daniel was polite enough to warn them to stay outside so he wouldn't have to kill them too.  Ten minutes later, deputies heard a gunshot.

Daniel had a history of mental illness, but he didn’t leave a note of explanation nor was there any apparent motive for him to kill the majority of his extended family.

DR. ANTHONY PAUL

Murdered: (3): His wife and two children age 17 and 12

Date:  July 18, 1990

Location: Philadelphia, PA

Manner of death:   Sedatives

"We lived together, we loved together, we die together''

Highly regarded in the medical field as a specialist in gastro-intestinal cancers at the Fox Chase Cancer Center, none of his colleagues could imagine the horrific development Dr. Paul was planning. 

Caring for his severely disabled daughter and a wife who suffered from chronic arthritis, Dr. Paul was distraught with the ongoing health issues and the inevitable financial stress.  The middle aged doctor was convinced there was no other alternative than to kill everyone.

Dr. Paul left work early on a Friday afternoon, casually mentioning an envelope he left on his desk.  Open it on Monday, he said.

As they read his suicide note that following Monday, his co-workers came to the shocking conclusion that there a house full of dead people they should probably do something about.  

Inside their 10-bedroom estate, investigators found the family in the master bedroom.  Each person was found holding their own empty IV bag. 

His suicide note detailed the reasons for his actions and even though his son was healthy, Dr. Paul did not want his only son to grow up in foster care and become an "outcast".  

Mark Short Sr.

Murdered: (4)  Wife and three children, aged 8, 5 and one year

Date:  August 6, 2016

Location: Sinking Spring, Pennsylvania

Manner of death:  Shooting

The Short family had been featured several times in the local media as they documented their struggles to care for their youngest child, who received a heart transplant when she was just a few days old.  

A shining example of perseverance and being strong in difficult times. 

Privately however, the couple were not getting along.  Soon after one altercation ended with the cops being called, his wife Megan decided it was time to get a divorce and started making plans to move out.

The day before the murders, Mark took his three small children to Hershey's theme park while Megan announced on Facebook that she was leaving her husband and needed help moving into her new apartment the next day.  She never made it. 

Her family became concerned when she didn’t show up on moving day with her belongings and called authorities.

Investigators found the whole family dead in the living room dressed in their pajamas with blankets spread out as though they were having a slumber party. Everyone, including the 1 year-old heart recipient and a family dog, were shot with a .38 caliber pistol.

Short left a note describing his emotional turmoil over the loss of his family.