#because she didnt have any modern era clothes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

littlx-songbxrd · 3 years

Note

so I just went on a really fascinating rabbit hole on historical hair dye-warning for some disgusting cosmetic methods (this is also way longer than I though it would be but I got very fascinated by the topic)

as for going blonde:

during the roman empire, prostitutes were actually required to have blonde hair and it is through analysis of this that we have most of the early information of hair coloring. wigs were used, which obviously doesn’t help answer our question, but there was also a method of burning certain plants and nuts and using the ashes to lighten hair colors.

now we get into gross stuff. in the modern day if you have dark hair that you are dyeing pretty much any color (aside from specific circumstances) you are absolutely 1000% going to need to bleach it. Great!! modern science has created safe synthetic bleach that is specifically for use in hair. however this was only created in the later twentieth century when hollywood popularized light colored hair.

prior to the invention of what we modern humans know as bleach, people still needed to bleach things (leather used a bleaching process, as did cloth/thread, and of course it was used in cosmetics) so, you might ask, what did people use as bleach?? the answer is urine (human or animal) as it contains natural ammonia in it, which is one of the primary ingredients in bleach. (one of the most disgusting methods I discovered was used was putting the ashes of the crushed up plants and nuts together with literal bird poop to create a paste and then peeing on it. I almost gave up here😭)

later in the elizabethan era in england blonde and red hair was popular. blonde was achieved by using cumin seeds, saffron, and oil and celandine. this method was wildly expensive though.

one doctor in the 1600s successfully used straight up acid to dye hair blonde but that was wildly unsafe so for a long time women just started wearing wigs.

it wasn’t until 1856 that hair coloring became popular again and it was due to the invention of the first synthetic dye, which was the purple shade called Mauvine

once again though, this does not help alastair as it is not until 1920 that true blonde hair was achieved with synthetic dyes, and even through the mid twentieth century it was sometimes an outright dangerous venture because of the unsafe nature of the chemicals.

as for going back to black:

originally, black was the most popular choice for dyeing hair, primarily to cover the signs of aging, as well as for women to distinguish themselves from prostitutes. ancient Egyptians actually used henna to cover gray hairs, and during the same time greeks and later romans used various plant extracts. these extracts were highly toxic though so one method also used was fermenting leeches (like the actual animal) in a lead container for several months. (ew) henna was probably the most popular during ancient times, but berries and crushed nutshells could also be used to darken hair tones

wikihow suggests using henna or indigo powder mixed with coffee ground to get a black color, but it also says that this wouldn’t get lighter colored (such as blonde) hair dark enough. henna is definitely the most historically accurate and it seems that the common consensus is that it was the most reliable method.

it is important, however to note a few things historically here.

1. aside from the ancient egyptians covering gray hairs, men rarely used unnatural hair color. in the western world men used powder and pomade (as well as wigs) to keep hair clean and presentable during the 17th and 18th centuries, which is the closest the modern world came to popular modifications for men’s hair.

2. since women were the primary targets of hair dye, it was generally incredibly ornamental and not very practical. there was a trend in the 18th century of pastel hairstyles, often using wigs, and for the past three centuries before alastair was dyeing his hair, styles achieved notoriety through shape as opposed to color.

3. by the time alastair was dyeing his hair, unnatural colors weren’t popular at all really. natural styles were coming back into popularity in all aspects of fashion, and since women were the only people who ever dyed their hair and the styles didn’t demand it at all it would have been incredibly hard to find access to any of it.

4. it is important to remember that alastair dyed his hair to appear more eurocentric like his father. with how racist and classist the western world was at this time there was absolutely no reason for white europeans, especially the english, to have the necessary products to appear more ideal accessible for those they didn’t want to benefit from the eurocentric society.

tldr: if alastair wanted to bleach his hair he would have had to do some pretty disgusting stuff to it (or I found another suggestion that said using something highly acidic like lemon or lime could work!! all hope may not be lost lol) and to dye it back to black his best bet was henna or a similar plant based stain!

I don’t know how clear this is since i’m on mobile but I hope you found this as fascinating as I did! I really like doing this stuff so if there’s anything else your curious about let me know!!

I absolutely found this incredibly fascinating! I am also on mobile now so I am sorry for my spelling mistakes already

Acid??? ACID????? OH GOD NO

So according to CC Alastair had

And I QUOTE FROM THE ANON WHO SENT ME HER ANSWER

✨magic dye✨ which she never elaborated on

So now I'm imagining if hed miss the vender (i hope there was a vender to this magic dye) to get to him, imagine him trying one of the methods you told here

God thatd be horrifying

Highly acidic lime works pls i cannot think acid-

Oh no now I wanna write an angty fict about thus anon what have you done

It is all very interesting thought! Didnt know they used to dye hair to distinguish from prostitutes!

Also now that I remember Cordelia DID use henna on her hair if I remember correctly, they probably DID have it in the house

So I'm sure it wouldnt have the immediate result it had on Alastair in canon

But we can always dream he used henna and CC just unrealistically described

Or what? Did he find MAGIC DYE in one night?

Anyways

I LOVE ALL THIS AND ITS SO FASCINATING

You are making my inner fasion nerd thrive truly

#fashion anon #i think its you

16 notes · View notes

corvidshipping · 3 years

Text

modern au red/milo dump while i try to get myself together to answer asks nd work on ATJ:

(tw for alcohol mentions near the end, also this is an EXTREMELY long post, its so long that even after i split it into categorized sections each section could be its own post)

CLOTHING

milo absolutely has no sense of fashion. i feel like this is basically canon - for the styles at the time, he dresses fairly basic, mostly focused on looking put together for his job (definitely dresses aimed more towards how he would like to be treated by his peers, despite his actual position - then again our best example outside of the expedition is when he's about to deliver what he considers the most important presentation of his life, so who knows, maybe he usually dresses like a slob). aside from that his main concern seems like practicality and comfort. his wardrobe is dominated by earth tones - beiges and greens set with white and greys. all of that taken into account, i can see him dressing like this in a more modern era:

basically- a lot of cardigans, usually collared shirts or comfortable turtlenecks (since he does still occupy a research position at the smithsonian, even if only in title), big ol' coats, khakis and chinos and slightly stiff dress pants complete with ironed creases. i can see him wearing similar clothes outside work, just more comfortable - jeans and knitted shirts, henleys, more turtlenecks, and comfy cardigans over short sleeved shirts. i dont really see him wearing a lot of prints, i think he'd veer more towards solid clothes in lighter colors, but maybe he has a few. hes definitely the kind of guy to think of wearing the single graphic tee he owns as "bold and wild".

im very married to the idea of him wearing converse though. i cant explain it. milo in converse keeps me going in this world

hes kind of broke so i think maybe he got the converse secondhand maybe? or a gift of some kind. aside from the converse i can see him wearing a lot of oxfords and maybe wingtips

i want to see him in a hawaiian shirt so bad. i am losing it at this thought. he buttons it all the way up to his neck like someones awkward dad. milo wears a hawaiian shirt to "let loose". he wears it with like, khakis. or knee length jorts AHHHHDJHDSGJHDSJGh

a tie??? does he wear his hawaiian shirt with a tie???? does he think it makes it look cooler?????????? i am sobbing

red is the COMPLETE opposite. in the canon 1914 setting, red is already very rebellious for an AFAB person of their era- theyre openly a suffragette, they frequently refuse to wear skirts even in public and dress in mens clothes even before they were openly nonbinary, despite not being accepted into the male-dominated research fields and colleges they continue to educate themself with or without help, they purposely aim for an "unfeminine" silhouette when they dress, refuse to wear corsets, etc. (spoiler alert- there's a clear reason they get on so well with audrey in ATJ)

theyre also easily mistaken by people that didnt know them prior to their transition for being just a very small/young cis man- even though they canonically have a very soft "traditionally feminine" face

so basically, in any era theyre set into, red is always gonna aim to be ahead of the curve- both in their personal beliefs and practices and in their fashion. theyre also very androgynous in their clothes, although they tend to aim a bit more masculine (thats partially due to the era though, and having been forced into skirts exclusively for their entire life- i think in a modern setting where its more acceptable for AFABs to dress and act in a less hyperfeminine way, theyd be more okay with a fluidity in their gender presentation).

all that taken into account, i can see them dressing like this:

lots of baggy clothes, especially baggy jackets and shirts. they like loose fitting high waisted pants like JNCO jeans, cargo pants, etc but they arent averse to pencil legs. they rarely ever wear skinny jeans or drainpipes though. messy hair is a lifestyle for them- their haircut is definitely home-done

you know how in BICSTLY they used to have really long hair before they cut it? in a modern au i can see them impulsively doing the cut at like 3am and waking milo up at his door cause they screwed it up and he ends up having to help fix it (even though hes literally no better at cutting hair than them. worse even)

definitely have an undercut bob- bob on top, shaven on the bottom layer. they might end up growing their hair into a mullet at some point if they get bored. probably dyes their hair all the time out of boredom and then regrets it later and has to use dye remover.

lots of ripped tights and fishnets, leggings with big loose crop tops, big hoodies, safety pin jewelry and homemade jewelry. maybe some sticknpokes.

all that said, they still know how to dress in a professional situation. since its a modern au theres really nothing holding them back from the education and career they canonically want but cant get in the 1910s, so i imagine they would work at the smithsonian as well, maybe their father helped them get the job? potentially in that case they might be his assistant- after all, he trusts their opinion on artifacts more than anyone else's.

at work you can still very much see the punk/skater/grunge/goth style but its more understated- turtlenecks, high waisted and looser dress pants, lots of black, slightly unbuttoned collared shirts with a loose overcoat and no tie

since i elaborated on milos shoe taste i may as well elaborate on red's: they definitely wear converse as well, probably newer than milo's since their father is fairly wealthy and they can afford it. they also have a doc martens collection. they have a pair of demonias but they never wear them and milo is really the only person to even know they own them, let alone see them in them. they really dont like to wear heels much, but they own a few just to play around with. they have a bad habit of wearing any laced shoes untied, but they never trip over the laces. they also use lace code- their most-worn Docs have purple laces on the right foot and yellow on the left. some of their Docs have (reclaimed) pink laces.

has an extensive pin collection including feminism pins, anti-racism pins, punk-related pins, skater-related pins, and pop culture pins (80s music, modern music, old movies, etc)

MUSIC TASTE

milo's into a lot of older music- stuff from the 50s is his favorite. really into jazz and ballroom style stuff. his favorite band is queen, i think- he likes the old-fashioned sound, the jazz-chamber-ballroom influences, the diversity of their lyrics, and the complexity between the guitar riffs, the basslines, and freddie's vocal runs as well as the vocal harmonies.

sometimes he hums good old fashioned lover boy to red and they two-step in the living room in their pajamas :pleading:

also very into rush. yes, he is a rush guy :pensive:.

also listens to a surprising amount of lo-fi? he really likes stuff that remixes older music with hip hop and lofi elements, like earl grey. nearly exclusively into instrumental stuff but also very into louie zong. he listens to it while he works a lot.

knows a lotttt of foreign artists, especially niche ones. fuckin LOVES casiopea

red's spotify is a goddamn mess. everything from 2000s emo, to classic 70s punk, to post-punk and new wave, to 90s pop, to rap. they cant be easily classified at all

their favorite bands are oingo boingo, prince, queen (they listen to a lot of their harder-rock music, but milo knows theyre into the ballads too. theyll never tell anyone else though), doja cat, lil nas, fall out boy, and billie eilish.

red recites the intro monologue to lets go crazy very seriously to make milo laugh, sometimes. they get very into it with their facial expressions. sometimes it devolves into a full air guitar/keyboard/drum and wild dancing session. milo does not know how to participate in this but he loves watching them have fun with it. sometimes they pull him off the couch to make him dance with them, though

they are a huge sucker for dark pop, vaporwave, retrowave, EDM, hip hop, emo, punk... etc etc. anything that combines any two or more of those genres in an original or interesting way gets their attention right away

there's a lot of sharing between the two of them- even though their music tastes are so different, they like a lot of the others taste, and theyre always up to listen to whatever their partner is playing.

red is a huge softie, and milo has found them more than once listening to or humming something he was playing for them the other day because it reminded them of him

speaking of which- in the 1914 canon, red can play piano. i think that carries over to a modern au, where they could play piano and by extension keyboard. i like to think they experiment with a lot of instruments but i doubt they ever really mastered any others. maybe theyre okay at drums or bass?

they learned to play and sing teo torriatte for milo, as a surprise. when they first performed it for them, they had everything set up for when he got home from work- the lights were dimmed, they had candles lit around the keyboard, they draped stuff in cloth to make it look pretty, they scattered flower petals around. when milo walked in and saw it all, he almost proposed then and there- the only thing that stopped him was that he would kick himself for the rest of his life if he did that without a ring.

HOBBIES/ACTIVITIES

milo is still an avid chess player in this, but i like to think hes in some kind of groupchat or text or discord server for it. he doesnt necessarily consider any of the others in the chat close friends, but he does know them all by name

he tries to get red into chess but they never really get it

he tells them all about the stuff that goes down in the games and they just. do not understand. but they love listening to him get excited about it anyway

"red you're not gonna BELIEVE this, eddie played an italian game on star today! i thought for sure she would see through it since everyone knows it but she slipped and he beat her in like, 13 moves! i wouldnt have believed it if i hadnt been there!"

"yes sweetie please tell me more" (barely disguised pained expression)

red is a skater and a regular at the skate park by the smithsonian

most regulars there know them by name, they can spot a newbie a mile away

they have a sticker of a broken tv with a skull inside of it on the underside of their board, its become recognized as a symbol of them unofficially

since theyre so regular and have been going there a lot longer than most of the other skaters that frequent the place, a lot of what they say is kind of just accepted as the rules

they have a bad habit of lecturing new kids who show up without knee/elbow pads or helmets at the very least. all the other skaters enforce it too. kids dont end up showing up without protective gear very often after their first visit

they brought a first aid kid and left it there and everyone has kept it stocked pretty well without them having to have much input. its kind of just a communal first aid kit

they once drew the broken tv symbol on the inside of a half-pipe and everyone started calling it red's ramp after that

they also started calling the bowl at the center of the park the Soup Bowl and now thats just accepted as the name. some of the newer kids genuinely thought that it was called that by the park and were shocked when they found out it was just a random nickname red gave it one day

theyve brought milo a few times but hes extremely awkward on his feet and could never really get his balance on a skateboard, and quite frankly red is afraid of what might happen if he tried even a low ramp, so he usually just sits at the rim of the bowl while red skates around

everyone knew he was their boyfriend before they even met him. a few of the regulars called him by name right away. one of them was certain red had brought him before.

but no

they just talk so fuckin much about him that its like they already know him

aside from skateboarding, red is pretty good on rollerskates/blades

they tried to take milo to a roller rink once but it was a disaster and they ended up going home, changing into pajamas, ordering chinese food, and marathoning movies till they fell asleep on the couch together. so not a total loss

theyre both very into movies. red is deep into horror and milo likes indie/art movies and just Cannot handle horror at all, but they both agree on old movies, from the 80s and 90s to like the 30s.

red has shown milo some of the classic horror movies and the niche old ones (from like the 40s) since theyre not difficult to stomach

every so often when red brings up wanting to see a horror movie milo is like "aw babe we can watch that tonight i promise it wont be bad" and he genuinely thinks he can handle it this time

he cant

he never can

it is always a lie

red ends up holding him every time and talking him to sleep, but it thankfully never causes like a major panic attack or anything like that

they love going to museums together, of all kinds. they love art museums. they also go to aquariums and aviaries

sometimes they like to go to other history museums and criticise the veracity or accuracy of exhibits/translations, all in good fun of course. theyre never actually being mean about it

SIDENOTES/UNCATEGORIZED

they both used to work at starbucks, when they were younger and before they worked at the smithsonian. they worked at separate stores 2 blocks from each other.

milo cant stand soda or carbonated drinks, red can and will chug a java monster in order to survive a long workday if they must. milo is constantly concerned for their health and wellbeing

they r both lightweights when it comes to drinking. they can split a six pack and both be falling-over drunk by the end of the night.

given the changes in beauty standards people DEFINITELY think milo is more attractive than they would in 1914. cmon. hes a lil twinky nerd. you think people wont eat that up?

he never really catches onto the flirting much though

did u think i would forget ki/da and the others? youd be wrong.

i simultaneously like the idea of something similar to the movie happening, but also just like... ki/da just being a regular person living on the surface. in either case they r all friends still

in the case of ki/da just being a regular person on the surface- i like the idea of atl/antis just being A Place in this au, maybe its a bit of a closed off country though? like, not many foreigners live there and to get there you basically need to be there as a diplomat or a scholar

maybe ki/da visits DC as a diplomat? she is a princess, after all

red meets audrey online cause they both yell at the same misogynistic asshole on twitter

they exchange discord names in the replies of the tweet and tell the guy not to interrupt them while theyre talking in his replies

i like to think red and milo are selected to go on an academic visit to atl/antis (to learn about the culture, with permission of the king), and audrey ends up as the mechanic on the ship during the visit and theyre like (spiderman pointing meme) at each other

red and audrey have so many inside jokes that they basically speak a different language. milo gets some of the terms from context and pop culture (they use "so very" in real life- as in "wow, that shirt is so very.") but he is hopeless to learn all of it

one of their inside jokes is any variation of "milo hot girl summer" and they REFUSE to explain it to him no matter how much he begs

milo wears that iconique tank top on the ship and they say it literally any time he bends over, picks anything up, reaches for anything, moves, BREATHES. he is bewildered and at this point concerned

(in truth, the joke came from red taking a really blurry picture of him in a short sleeve shirt where he looked pretty cute and captioned it "milo's having a hot girl summer rn" and they just could not stop repeating it once audrey met him IRL)

they have a minecraft world. i do like to believe that every so often vinny finds a way in- theyre never sure how- and griefs the shit out of them by blowing up EVERY. monument.

this post is getting long bc im enraptured by the idea of an atl/antis modern au so im cutting it off here but expect WAY MORE later

#paper_heart.txt #s: i didn't say it's the smart thing. but it is the right thing #alcohol ment tw

2 notes · View notes

dyaz-stories · 5 years

Text

“you’re the only delivery person who gets to my house in any semblance of the word fast which is why i keep requesting you but you don’t believe me and tease me constantly about it” AU

AU by @dailyau and @demineil. Enjoy!

Modern AU, Inukag and Mirsan, crack-ish I guess. Just a short little something because I liked this idea ^-^

Word count: 1,636

Kagome practically jumped when she heard her stomach grumbling. In a daze, she looked at her computer screen, glancing at the time for the first time that day.

10 p.m.

Shit. When was the last time I ate? I don’t remember eating at noon… Did I even eat this morning? Oh, mom is going to kill me if I lose any more weight!

But more importantly (though ‘murder by Mama Higurashi’ was pretty bad) she was so hungry it hurt. Food. Now. She needed to it. She got to her feet and walked in her kitchen, only to find it painfully empty. Riiiight, she hadn’t gone out all week because she was working on that never-ending thesis. She cursed inwardly. Looked like she had to order some food, again, but quickly because otherwise she was going to faint.

She grabbed her phone. She knew just where to call, but…

She hesitated briefly before shaking her head and dialing the number of the closest pizza place.

“Hello, Shikon Pizza here, what can I do for you?” the elderly voice of Kaede greeted her.

Kagome smiled in relief. She liked it better when it was Kaede — the other woman who picked up the phone, Kikyo, was terribly intimidating.

“Hi, it’s Kagome Higurashi, I was hoping I could…”

“Of course, Kagome,” Kaede interrupted her fondly. “I’ll take care of everything. I suppose you want me to send Inuyasha?”

Kagome closed her eyes. She could already feel herself blushing. But the truth was, at least Inuyasha was fast as hell. Kaede was terribly slow (but why did a woman that age insist on riding a bike anyway?) and Kikyo wasn’t particularly fast either, while Inuyasha had the advantage of his demonic speed.

“Yes please,” she mumbled.

“Then consider it done!”

Kagome sighed as the old woman hung up. She glanced at her clothes and frowned, stepping into her room to get dressed. Not that there was much of a point at this time of day, but at least that would be one less thing Inuyasha would comment on.

The first time, he had been unbelievably rude to her, and she had promised herself she would never, under any circumstances, have him again. She had even taken the time to write herself a note to ask for someone else.

Unfortunately, situations like this night were becoming more and more common as her deadline got closer, and the time right after, she had actually asked Kaede if she could send him. He had gotten there incredibly quickly, and well, she was fucking hungry.

He had been even more rude that time, with a hint of confusion behind it though, and Kagome had sworn, again, that he wouldn’t be back.

But, again, her stomach had won that battle.

The third time, he had been much more intrigued and almost defensive. That had been easier — she had been able to get rid of him fast and to eat.

Afterwards, though, it hadn’t been that easy. He had started doing that thing where he towered over her a little more, and he grinned (which tended to let his fangs appear and for some reason she loved that), and his voice got deeper and somewhat sultry and then how was she supposed to focus on her thesis when her senses were filled with him and and and ugh.

Yes, she thought he was handsome. His golden eyes, particularly, filled her dreams, but his white hair, cut short, and his lovely dog ears didn’t leave her indifferent either. Maybe, some other time, she would even have asked him out.

But she had work to do. She really, really couldn’t get into anything right now, much less in a relationship with a moody, though terribly attractive, man. She was sighing heavily when she heard the doorbell.

She glanced at her clock in disbelief — how does he do that? — then walked, maybe a little too fast, to open it.

Sure enough, there he was, with a smug smile, and looking at her like he was going to devour her whole.

Honestly, she’d let him.

If she didn’t have a thesis to finish.

“Hungry?” he practically purred, holding out the pizza.

Oh, if only he knew.

She reached out, only to have him put it out of her reach. She rolled her eyes.

“Starving, actually,” she replied, annoyed. “I haven’t eaten all day. Could you…?”

“Sure thing,” he answered, waiting for her to get her money.

“You’re the fastest delivery man around,” she mumbled, feeling her cheeks burning any way. She wasn’t too sure why she always got the need to justify herself. Maybe she didn’t want him to think she was desperate girl, doing everything she could to get a chance to hit on him. Maybe she was trying to convince herself, because she genuinely enjoyed seeing him.

“Yeah, you say that every time,” Inuyasha answered, his voice dryer than it usually was.

She looked up at him and noticed his frown, but more importantly, the way his ears drooped a little.

Oh, no. She didn’t want that. It hurt her more than she had expected and she hated it and…

“I have a thesis to finish,” she blurted out.

“Oh?” Inuyasha asked, cocking an eyebrow. His ears perked up just a little, and even though Kagome was terribly embarrassed at this point, she swallowed and kept going.

“The deadline’s really close and that’s all I’ve been doing.”

“Oh.”

“So I really don’t have time for anything right now.”

This time, Inuyasha gave her a toothy grin, and for a second, she wondered about how his fangs would feel against her skin if— Your thesis, Kagome.

“But after that…”

“Yeah?” Inuyasha leaned in. Being taller than her, he was easily towering over her, and the closer he got, the harder it got to think and be coherent.

“After that, I’ll be free.”

“Huh,” he said. “But that’ll take you a while.”

She breathed in deeply as he got closer, one of his clawed hands toying with her hair.

“I mean, it’d be nice if I got, I dunno… A reason to wait.”

Kagome blinked. Despite herself, images of her giving Inuyasha an embroidered handkerchief passed in her mind. Ugh, this thesis was killing her. She never wanted to hear about Feudal Era, whether it was in Japan or in Europe, ever again.

She bit her lip, eliciting an almost immediate growl of Inuyasha. “What do you have in mind?”

He took that as a permission. He crashed his mouth on hers, and he smiled when he heard her sigh desperately. She got on her tiptoes to try to get as close to him as possible, their bodies reacting almost desperately to the other’s embrace.

Way too soon, Inuyasha stepped back, leaving her with weak knees.

“If you need some distraction ’til you finish your thing, you’ll know where to find me,” he said, his words teasing but his voice letting on more of his emotions.

Kagome nodded wordlessly.

“But then I’ll want you all for myself.”

Oh. Oh God.

She wanted to finish that stupid thing more than ever.

“It’s so nice to meet you Kagome!” Inuyasha’s best friend, Miroku, hold out his hand while his girlfriend, Sango, gave her a bright smile. “We’ve been so curious about you!”

“Miroku’s a real gossip,” Inuyasha told her with a frown.

He looked all grumpy, but Kagome knew he’d been dying to introduce her to his friends, and at the same time, terribly stressed to do so. She had come to see that that was very like him. He would always act annoyed when he was afraid something would go wrong, at the risk of making it go wrong that way.

“How did you two meet?” Sango asked. “Inuyasha wouldn’t tell us!”

“I had a very good reason,” he growled.

“Oh, well you see, Inuyasha was the delivery guy and I always requested him because he was the fastest one…”

“Sure you did,” Inuyasha said, grinning, but Sango couldn’t help but notice how fond his smile was.

“I did,” Kagome sighed. “I swear. Anyway, after a while…”

“The seventh time she requested me, actually,” Inuyasha corrected her.

“You counted?”

At that he only responded with a ‘Keh!’ and looked away, with maybe the smallest of blush on his cheeks, and it was only Sango’s foot furiously crashing Miroku’s that stopped him from commenting ‘Oh how adorable!’

“The seventh time I requested him,” Kagome continued, smiling widely and discreetly reaching for her boyfriend’s hand to give it a squeeze, “I told him that I actually had a thesis to finish so I couldn’t do anything right now, much less see someone. And then he said he’d wait.”

She giggled, keeping for herself the heated kiss they had shared afterwards. Sango bit back an ‘Awwww’, knowing it would only embarrass Inuyasha further. That being said, she had no idea why he hadn’t been willing to tell them. What was the problem with that story?

“Wait, so he was your deliveryman?” Miroku asked.

Sango and Inuyasha’s eyes met. Holy shit, no, she had to stop him…

“Yes, he was,” Kagome answered.

“So it’s just like a porn flick!”

He knew Sango was going to kill him for that, but the look on her— Oh, Inuyasha was not happy with him and Sango did look like she was going to murder him.

Well, he’d better start running then.

Kagome shook her head as his girlfriend caught him and Inuyasha and her both started growling and shouting at him.

“I mean he’s not wrong though,” she mumbled to herself.

Especially for the sex.

Inuyasha’s ear flicked and Kagome couldn’t help but smirk when she noticed his eyes widening.

She understood why he had teased her so much in the beginning. It was so much fun.

#inuyasha #kagome #inukag #Inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha au #mirsan #my writing

142 notes · View notes

missblissy · 5 years

Text

Modern!Red Dead AU x Reader (Part 1/?)

((Let's go friends, lets get this bread.))

It’s always the era of art, isn’t it? You’re a college student that has found yourself living in the Northcountry of New York. Living here was like taking a step back in time almost a 100 years ago. You’re going to college for art, but you aren’t sure if thats a major for you.

There was a large bustling town surrounding your college, and another one across town. It was to big to be called a town, honestly, but two small to be called a city so it was somewere in between. There was plent to do. Movies, coffee shops, video game lounges, vape shops, open parks with art in them. It was beautiful.

The first person you meet is a young man and his friends laughing in one of the smoking gazebos. You were also going to smoke anyways so you suppose it was time to meet some new friends.

This is when you met Arthur Morgan, John Marston, and Charles Smith. They went to the college on the otherside of town for music... Which was funny because none of them looked like the musical type.

“Why are you wasting the air here and not at your own school?” You asked. John, the one that looked half way between a drug dealer and a drug addict, said, “Well... My girlfriend goes to school here. And we can’t smoke on campus at our school,”

Oh. If anyone out of this odd bunch was anything normal, it was Charles. He was cool and quiet and didn’t say much other than, “Were are you from?” You told them how you lived about seven to eight hour from home. Turned out so did he.

Arthur and John were locals. They’d grown up in the wild North country. The mountains of New York were such an odd place. Arthur didn’t talk much but he did talk about this place called Java Barn. “It’s a live music venue. It’s not actually in a barn. It’s in a old autobody shop on our campus. There’s a show tonight. You should come,” He was so stern when he talked. What a weirdo.

“What's it like?” Charles told you it was a place were local musicans, students, and very underground and unknown bands played. It was a mix between and indoor slash outdoor music club.

The Java Barn opened at 9:00pm but they told you to show up at 10:00

That’s when you got to meet everyone else. You thought this was a local student thing, but it turned out to be a wild and open event that any body could go to.

Found on the college campus across town stuck in a alley way between two low buildings, you found it. There had to be more than 200 people there. Scattered around in the alley while loud music blasted out of the open garage doors.

You found the three pretty boys that you met earlier that day sitting way off to the side on a set of stairs that went to nowhere. They waved you over, John smiling and Charles getting up to greet you. They introduced you to the rest of their friends.

There was a kid named Sean from Ireland who was far to drunk already. He was a drop out and didn’t want to go back home. So he lived with John and John’s girlfriend, Abigal, in an apartment in town. Abigal went to school for nursing, she said.

Charle’s was roommates with Arthur, who also lived in town. They had a third roommate who was a girl named Karen. She went to your school for criminal justice and she was a bit of a partier. She was also very very drunk and seemed to be gravitating towards Sean.

To your surprise you met one of your own fucking professors, It was Professor Van der Linde who taught your modern philosophy class, and your english Professor too! Mr. Mattews. You knew the two of them were friends, because you saw them always walking together in the hallways of your school, you didn’t know how good of friends though or that they were friends with students.

Was this a little unethical? No... No it couldn’t be. Right?

This party at the Java Barn was actully.... a lot of fun! You met so many people, drunk, stoned, sober, and they were all very nice. This little gang of people around the stairs off in the distance seemed like a big friend group.

There were other people too, a kid named Lenny who was in your art major. There was his friends Tilly and Mary-beth, and their friend Sadie who was a very loud and drunk lesbian who had to let everyone know who she was. You found out Tilly was also in the criminal justice major, and Mary-beth was in the english studies major. Sadie was to drunk to even communicate properly but someone told you she went to other college for psycology.

You also met some dropouts who still slugged around, named Bill and Micah who were fans of Dutch’s class and that was about it. There was also someone named Javiar but he didn’t seem interested in being friends with anyone really.

You noticed other professors you had also at the gathering, even older people well into their golden years. It was so amazing and forigen to you. What on earth was this place that you had found?

They got you to drink, and smoke, and enjoy yourself. They were all so nice and you found yourself making friends very quickly. The music was loud and funny, it made you want to dance.

The girls all gathered together and laughed and giggled and dance and barked at any of the men that tried to squeeze in. You were dragged away by them to gossip in the bathroom. You’ve never had many friends, definetly no friends that were like this.

You added everyone on snapchat, facebook, twitter, anything they had. It felt a little weird when Dutch and Hosea insisted that you refer to them by their names, and they gladly gave you their contact information.

That night you walked home with Tilly and Abigal, they lived in the same dorm as you and didn’t even know it. It was beautiful walk because your campus was littered with nature trails seeing as it was in the middle of a forest.

You didn’t have a roommate (lucky, the said) so when you got back to your half decorated room, you flopped down on your bed. You closed your eyes for a second, feeling tired but glad you took the risk and went out. Your phone was buzzing alive already. Your new friends hadn’t wasted a second texting you.

Smiling, ready for bed, you rolled over, still in the clothes you wore out and sunk into your bed, sleeping and waiting for what the next day had to bring.

35 notes · View notes

lloyds-department · 3 years

Note

What are some of Mason’s interests? How’d Mason & Derrick meet? :o

Masons a working man. Loves working. His main profession is wood working, specifically building tables, chairs, stools, and occasionally he'll go out to a sawmill to help out around there. He hardly ever comes home from work without it least a little bit of sawdust in his hair

On Mason's days off he likes to relax, maybe do a word search, or he'll read a book. Although he gives off the vibe of a stereotypical manly man, who has little to no interests than work or reading, he does like doing things that, traditionally, wouldn't be seen as big toughguy material.

Oftentimes baking. Loves that shit.

Now how they met. It's a long story so buckle up ig

He met Derrick in the park when Mango was 9 [Derrick was 26, Mason was 28] and they became friends, initially, because Derrick had needed a place to stay for a while and Mason offered that, since his house had 5 rooms and was originally owned by his family. He inherited the house from his mother.

They got along over their shared interest of a specific book author, and would usually discuss the books by this writer when Mango was at school.

There weren't any romantic feelings for a few years. Mason was fine housing a single father and his, at the time, young albeit not human daughter, and not immediately getting with the father. Derrick was focused on making sure Mango would be ready to visit Charleston Labs to interact with the project Robert worked on.

Eventually, when Derrick was 36. [Mango: 19, Admin: 18, Mason: 38] Mango and Admin ran away with Derrick's permission. He knew Admin wasn't safe after it came out she was a clone, and suggested a great place for the girls to run off.

Mason had been there for Derrick to comfort him after Mango left. Derrick was obviously torn and didnt like the idea of his little girl going out into the real world, but thanks to Mason he calmed down.

Since it was down to the two of them, and now Derrick could find a decent paying job, they abandoned the large 5 bedroom house for a nice 2 bedroom apartment since itd be easier to pay off, and they'd be able to live a little more comfortably.

While in the apartment, they talked a lot more about things and grew a lot closer.

It was Derrick who developed romantic feelings first, in the summer of one year. Mason had similar views on things, and he was an extremely caring individual who treated Derrick like the whole world revolved around him. Derrick also appreciated how nice Mason was towards Mango.

Mason developed feelings after the heat went out the winter of the same year. Derrick had taken the opportunity to lay in the same bed as Mason, and held on, mainly for warmth. Mason felt safe with Derrick, and then all those warm, fuzzy feelings you get when you truly care about someone started flooding in.

That next morning while Mason was fixing their heater, Derrick suggested they go out somewhere for dinner. Mason agreed, mainly because why WOULD he deny a potential dinner date?

They went to a nice place. Derrick wore the nicest clothes he owned, and Mason just kind of. knew he wanted to be with Derrick for the rest of his life.

So he asked Derrick if he'd consider the idea of calling himself Mason's boyfriend. The "yes" came out faster than Mason expected.

They agreed marriage wasnt necessary for them to prove they loved each other a lot.

Derrick was 38 when he agreed to be in a romantic relationship with Mason, who was 40 at the time.

Around that same time, Derrick became a grandfather to Moder-Ator, and told Mango after the baby excitement that he was dating Mason.

With Mod being 16 in the modern/main era I draw Admin and Mango in, Derrick and Mason have lasted, being 54 and 56. They still very much love each other.

#vincent at the prize counter #tommies talkin #lloyd ocs #project mango and a.d.m.i.n. tag #derrick lewis #mason calohan #admin istrator #mango istrator #moder ator istrator #long post #i love writing love plots for ocs

3 notes · View notes

apsbicepstraining · 7 years

Text

The brand-new status badge: it’s not what you waste – it’s how hard “youre working”

The rich used to show how much we are able to spend on acts they didnt necessitate. Today, a public display of productivity is the new mark of class power

Almost 120 years ago, during the first Gilded Age, sociologist Thorstein Veblen coined the term conspicuous consumption. He used it to refer to wealthy person flaunting their money through wasteful spending. Why buy a thousand-dollar clothing when a hundred-dollar one suffices the same serve? The answer, Veblen answered, was ability. The rich said their dominance by showing how much fund we are able to burn on acts they didnt need.

While radical at the time, Veblens observation seems obvious now. In the interfere decades, conspicuous consumption has already become deeply embedded in the quality of American capitalism. Our new Gilded Age will be still more Veblenian than the last. Todays captains of manufacture broadcast their social post with private islands and superyachts while the president of the United States includes nearly everything he owns in gold.

But the acquisition of insanely expensive stocks isnt the only practice that modern upper-class project dominance. More lately, another form of status flaunt has risen. In the new Gilded Age, relating oneself as a member of the ruling class doesnt just require conspicuous consumption. It expects noticeable production .

If conspicuous consumption commits the praise of luxury, noticeable production concerns the worship of strive. It isnt about how much you invest. Its about how hard “youre working”.

Nowhere is the cult of conspicuous product more visible than among Americas CEOs. Todays top executives are committed work-worshippers, virtually to the point of wickednes. Apple CEO Tim Cook told Timethat he begins his era at 3.45 am. General Electric CEO Jeff Immelt told Fortunethat he has worked 100 -hour workweeks for 24 times. Not to be exceed, Yahoo CEO Marissa Mayer told Bloomberg Newsthat she used to work 130 -hour workweeks. And so on.

It must be said that these individuals arent working out of necessity. The vast majority of Americans drive because their survival depends on a payment. By distinguish, Mayer, Immelt and Cook could withdraw tomorrow and still live extremely comfortably for the rest of their lives, with plenty left over to pass on to the next generation their collective net worth is almost $1.5 bn.

But conspicuous yield isnt about congregating ones information necessities. Its about the public display of productivity as a badge of class influence. In an era of extreme inequality, elites need to demonstrate to themselves and others that they deserve to own orderings of quantity more money than everyone else. Cook is nearly 500,000% richer than the average American but he wakes up at 3.45 in the morning. This is the hallmark of conspicuous production: it justifies the existence of an imperial class by showcasing their superhuman levels of industry.

The irony is that grueling workweeks arent alone an society phenomenon. Far from it. Many less fortunate Americans perform same feats of productivity, although they have fewer incentives and opportunities to advertise it. A recent study by the Economic Policy Institute found that Americans proletarians labor significantly more hours than they did a few decades ago specially ladies, black people and the poorest of the poor. A black wife in the bottom fifth of earners operated 349 more hours in 2015 than she would have in 1979. The reason is simple: wages have just budged since the 1970 s, which means todays proletarians have to work harder to make ends meet.

Compare the woman toiling long hours for minimum wage with the woman toiling the same hours for $30 m a year. One is trying to avoid starvation and homelessness; the other is broadcasting her influence and cachet. The proletariat of the latter isnt necessary in the normal sense but neither is a ten-thousand-dollar handbag. If conspicuous consumption celebrates gratuitous spending, noticeable production celebrates gratuitous acting. Both convey preeminence by making a sight of excess.

In the first Gilded Age, plethora was like a woman in pearls alongside the status of women in rags. In the second largest Gilded Age, it looks like a woman who works hundred-hour workweeks but doesnt requirement the money, alongside the status of women who works just as hard but can just continue a ceiling over her head.

Yet noticeable product takes many forms. Even people who cant afford to retire tomorrow going to be able engage in some form of it and experience a part of the elite status that it awards. Veblens most provocative proof was that the wastefulness of the rich inspired esteem , not anger. Other class tried to emulate it as best we are able to: middle-class beings couldnt live like a railroad baron, but we are able to indulge in little indulgences to entreat up their social endure. The same principle applies to noticeable creation. Most Americans will never attain the decadent elevations of CEO-style hyperwork, but they can still make a fetish of productivity.

Peak productivity: engineering has allowed us to turn our lives into a dashboard of data that can be monitored and weighed. Photo: Alamy Stock Photo

One way is to turn your holiday into proletariat by working on yourself. The most obvious sample is effort, which has acquired a addictive attribute among members of the urban professional class. The neighborhoods where theyre likely to live are littered with outlet fitness studios such as SoulCycle and indulgence gyms such as Equinox. These are the locations where the labor of self-improvement and self-purification continue long after the labor required to make ones legislations expirations. And they exist alongside a complementary ecosystem of juice tables and organic food stores, where one procures the proper fuel to influence the production processes the self.

The stated conclude for all the committee is health. But the amount of duration that many better-off Americans invest exercising far exceeds what is required to be healthy. Thats because the intricate requires of todays fitness and nutritional regimens arent ultimately about wellbeing. Theyre designed to express class ability. In the second largest Gilded Age, you can typically calculate person or persons charge bracket by their physique class is literally inscribed on their own bodies. Richer bodies arent simply thinner but precise muscled in all sorts of ways. They reflect an enormous and, strictly speaking, useless outlay of try. They personify work in excess of necessitate, signaling asset through wastefulness and apologizing ones control of it through the performance of personal virtue.

But you dont have to be a CEO or an affluent professional to partake in noticeable product. Technology has made it possible for everyone to see everything as a chance for productivity. You can measure your sleep, sex and paces with a Fitbit, your attractiveness with Tinder, your wittiness with Twitter, your notoriety with Facebook. You can alter your identity into a dashboard of data river that can be monitored, analyzed and optimized with the precision of an industrial process. You can alter your life into a factory and not only metaphorically. In creating yourself, you produce economic value for others. The hours you spend on these platforms may be unwaged, but they generate real income for the companies that own them.

This is the genius of noticeable production. It not only promotes a culture of overwork, it obliges our diminishing quantity of leisure time economically productive. There is no escape: either were working for the company or were working on ourselves, but were always cultivating. Eight hours for production, eight hours for remain, eight hours of what we will was the hymn of the employees who firstly demanded the eight-hour-day more than a century ago.Those marks dont make sense any more. Even our sleep is factored into our productivity score the entrepreneur of the self never gets to clock out.

Today, the old-fashioned slogan of the labor movement is just like utopian science fiction. Imagine a society that claimed so little of our strive. Reckon a macrocosm where the poorest of the poor didnt are now working so hard to exist, and the rich didnt have to work so hard to appear worthy of their capital, because rich and good didnt exist.

The post The brand-new status badge: it’s not what you waste – it’s how hard “youre working” appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2uvllph via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

0 notes

vitalmindandbody · 7 years

Text

Refugee crisis: how Greeks opened their centres to strangers

Despite six years of economic hardship, ordinary people have shown stunning magnanimity in assist the 42,000 migrants stranded in their country

Compassion, kindness, magnanimity of flavour: all three apply to Panayiota Drougas and her husband Dimitris as they speed the platform of the develop terminal at Idomeni.

There is no reason in the world that they should be here. Idomeni, at the best of eras, is a godforsaken place: dreary, barren and infused with a pensive usual of remote frontier berths. It is a starkness constructed more haunting still by the thousands of refugees who, following the railway tracks that have led them to this northern angle of Greece , now live in a squalid camp that has up all over the Macedonian frontier which is, of course, why the couple are here.

We envisioned their little faces on television, all these children, so hungry, dead tired, and just wanted to help, articulates Panayiota, a retired headteacher, siding out the 150 chocolate-filled croissants the pair bring along with them. They are refugees they dont want to be here, she sighs, seeings streaming in the cold. We see it as our duty to show them that someone cares. Were going to spread the word, tell former peers and sidekicks to do the same.

They are not alone. The conviction that forced the couple to purchase the croissants, get into their gondola and make the drive from Thessaloniki is something that many appear to share.

Hardship, Greeks have discovered, comes in different subtleties. For six years old they may have been in the eye of the largest eurozone commotion, buffeted by the depredations of austerity, the byproduct of their worst crisis in modern times.

But the batch of thousands of refugees stranded on their shores, often with little more than the clothes on their backs, has now taken them somewhere else. As the numbers have grown so, more, have the acts of altruism some entered, some never seen nationwide.

In Idomeni, pensioners struggling to make ends meet buy 2 cakes of dough, one to share with those who have pitched on their minuscule community; abroad, villagers open their residences. On Aegean islands that have brought the brunt of the influx of refugees, browses hard hit by plummeting consumption donate supplies.

In Athens, where passenger terminals, ballparks and public squares have been was transformed into chaotic receipt cores, Greeks of all backgrounds and ages have raced to join the succour struggle. Everywhere, NGOs speak of an explosion of paying that has taken them aback. I could tell you so many storeys, alleges Caroline Haga, a Finn seconded for the past four months to the country, with the International Red Cross. In Samos and Chios, lately, every storekeeper I filled wanted to give something for “their childrens”. Its amazing, considering what theyve gone through themselves. And more and more, every day, are signing up as volunteers.

Its a generosity of intent that has not been lost on recipients. With Greeces impoverished state organization unfolded to breaking point, refugees have been dependent on the kindness of strangers. The Greek police are horrid, reads Amar Souadi, an Iraqi, standing on the cliff where he has pitched his tent in the clay realms that are now home to the refugees in Idomeni. But the Greek beings are very good, he declares, breaking into a smile.

In Kos island my partner, Selma, established birth. They did everything for us. Search, here is my boy, Kasum, he is 10 dates old-time. We didnt wishes to make this pilgrimage but in Baghdad I acted as a translator for a British petroleum companionship and beings interpreted me as a deserter. Examine at my forearm, look at my stomach, look at these[ artillery] wounds.

In the coming months, EU officials predict that as numerous as 150,000 migrants and refugees could contact the country. By Friday, 42,000 were recorded across Greece. Any hopes of the numbers putting as a result of the preparation of the proposed programme bargain concurred between the bloc and Turkey to stem the tide have not been borne out.

Children receive a free banquet at a restaurant on the island of Kos. Photo: USA/ REX/ Shutterstock

Reaction to the flows could have gone either way; and with the closure last week of Europes Balkan corridor by Macedonia and other nations, it is able to yet change. On the back of financial collapse, the anti-immigrant, neo-fascist Golden Dawn has emerged, and impounded sway, as the third-biggest political oblige. The potential of Greece becoming a permanent base for refugees would not only place additional push on civilization, but administer it with regenerated vitality.

Everything we are seeing has been a pleasant astound, reads Melia Eleftheriadi, an employee with the Athens prefecture. The fondnes, right now, is we live under the same sunshine. We fall in love under the same moon. We are all human we have to help these people.

From her wreak room outside the former Olympic taekwondo stadium whose basement storage infinite has been grown with chronicle quicken into an assistant deployment centre Eleftheriadi has a birds-eye view of those wanting to help. Since “the centres activities” opened just seven daytime ago, a apparently incessant river of people have become their road to its doors, some in gondolas, some on foot, some old-time, some young, but all in common quest: to alleviate the plight of refugees.

Its been very moving, she contributes, shaking her pate almost in incredulity. There was one male, in his 50 s, earlier this week who , it is not possible to drive, took a bus from Nafplion[ in the Peloponnese] just so he could drop off a carton with a few circumstances for them.

Stacks of shoes, sleeping bags, nappies, towels, clothes, liquid and food supplies are sprawled around the cellar testament, if something, to the exclusively organisational sort of their own problems now facing powers. Almost every Greek has a family member who has immigrated or been a refugee, responds Eleftheriadi. My own grandmother fled Turkey during the course of its Asia Minor calamity[ following the first world war ]. So many of us have same narratives, which might explain why subscriptions arent their own problems. Its what to do with them all.

Where the state has miscarried, voluntaries and NGOs have stepped in. On the islands, in Athens and in the innumerable shelters set up in disused army barracks, hotels, parks and public houses, they have come deploying crisis situations skills and the feeling of do-gooders everywhere.

For people such as Nibal Shkirm, a Syrian coach from Aleppo, who property in Lesbos with her four children and husband last week, different groups have been a boom. You learn these shoes? she responds, brandishing a duet of Timberland sneakers outside her tent on a quay in Piraeus port. Some good Greek “ve given me” them. You identify her shoes, and his shoes, and her shoes? Some good Greek made them, very. These beings, they are very kind but satisfy write that we dont want to stay. We want to go to Germany. Maybe you can help?

With the EU rushing in emergency humanitarian aid in the weeks onward, the volunteer movement is bound to grow.

Like the emergencies that have overlapped in the country on the frontline of Europes two great dramas, history is being played out in billows. The refugee disaster resonates because Greeks, too, have moved to foreign countries and have also been migrants and migrs pressured, through self-exile, or political and economic requirement, to search better lives abroad. After the civil crusades merciless result in 1949, more than a third of the rural regions immigrated to Australia, Germany and America. Ever since, Greek blues lyricists, poets and film-makers have been inspired by what is known as xenitia .

This is an experience that very few other people have. It is dug into our collective consciousness, speaks Professor Constantinos Tsoukalas, Greeces pre-eminent sociologist. Greeks know what it is like to lose everything: residences, pals, storages, envisions, the memorabilia of their lives. The kindness, the empathy cant go on for ever, of course, but to a great degree it explains what we are seeing today.

The volunteers

The cook: Babis Kalogeridis, 50

Kalogeridis did not think twice about volunteering when the refugee crisis intensified. As a cook , commonly encountered working in a indulgence inn on the east Aegean island of Thassos, his sciences were in demand.

Babis Kalogeridis stirs a 500 -litre pot of soup at the refugee camp in Idomeni. Photo: Helena Smith for the Observer

Wanting to help passes or doesnt come from inside you, replies the father-of-two as he arouses a giant cauldron of lentil and rice soup in a kitchen receptacle that has been set up in the border camp at Idomeni. All I envision are pedigree people, people who have been uprooted because of war.

Kalogeridis drives to the camp on the Greek-Macedonian frontier from his house in Thessaloniki at least four times every week. The ride is shared with two other concocts who, like Kalogeridis, are members of a chefs guild whose activities include doing charitable labors.

Wanting to help rises or doesnt come from inside you All I recognize are beings uprooted by struggle

Eight-hour transformations of unremitting toil in rudimentary situations follow. Until lately, when a tube was connected to the nearby community of Idomeni, “there werent” passing sea in the following areas. We induce around 4,000 portions of hot nutrient every day, he smiles. A spate of us in north Greece whose class were also uprooted in the 1922[ Greco-Turkish] campaign are sensitive to the enormous adversity refugees digest. It reminds us of what our relatives went through.

The schoolteacher: Lili Mastichiadou, 58 Like numerous in our own countries, Mastichiadou has been appalled by the misfortune lapping at Greeces shorings.

The sight of children drowning off Aegean islands, the sheer proportion of the crisis and Europes inability to deal with it have all played a role in her decision to volunteer.

Everyone has their own tipping object, she speaks, parcelling donated sanitary towels into caskets in an facilitate dissemination core opened last week in the cellar of a former Olympic stadium in Athens. When you see infants croaking in front of your eyes, what you believe or dont accept discontinues to question. It croaks behavior beyond ideology.

Lili Mastichiadou volunteering at an assistance distribution core in Athens. Photo: Helena Smith for the Observer

She said it came as second nature to offer support. The response to the crisis has been very chaotic since we are suffer from paucity “of the organizations activities”, she adds. I knew there would be a need for logistical backup.

When you see infants croaking in front of your eyes, what you believe concludes to substance

Mastichiadou is also the daughter of a refugee ejected from Turkey in 1922. As a public employee she, more, has met her salary slashed as a result of Greeces six-year economic crisis. My father-god was from Asia Minor and when I grew up Greece was poor. There was a culture of helping your neighbour. It wasnt considered special. I will work here, after school hours, for as long as they need me.

The taxi driver: Kostas Moisides, 64 Moisides would not customarily consider himself to be a voluntary. But as a committed political leftwinger who has long belongs to a neighbourhood solidarity group now run by the regulating Syriza party, he is no newcomer to helping people out. For years now we have been invoking money to support the poor, mentions the taxi driver who comes from Nikaia, one of the Greek uppercases poorest suburbs, in the west of the city. Theres an infrastructure in place to aid refugees that is the product of our own economic crisis.

Kostas Moisides in the repository where he has delivered several bags of nutrient. Photograph: Helena Smith for the Observer

Moisides, who analyzed electrical engineering in Italy, says that he was also encouraged to participate in the relief efforts for refugees because of his displeasure in Europe. It wasnt the Europe that my generation, at the least, dreamed of, he enunciates. To be honest its very disheartening.

It wasnt the Europe that my generation at least dreamed of. Its very disheartening

At 64, Moisides has joined a volunteer group that is dispersing nutrient on the quays of Piraeus port. But at the least twice a few weeks Moisides too plans to collect and deliver donated goods for refugees and migrants. Unemployment is more than 30% in Nikaia, there are shuttered patronizes everywhere, when the shipyards closed many parties lost their jobs, but they care and they are giving.

Interviews by Helena Smith