#she knows how strong my sense of smell is and how influential that is on me 🥰

[butch-with-a-deep-voice]

Got a package in the mail from my femme, vampling. She's clearly covered whatever is inside in her perfume because it's sitting on my desk, and I just keep smelling it and getting hit with the thought of just burying my face in her neck while holding her 💕🥰

#she knows how strong my sense of smell is and how influential that is on me 🥰 #not opening it until we can call tonight so it just gets to sit there teasing me #shes often an absolute tease with me so i suppose thats fitting 💕 #god i love being a lesbian #oh vampling... 💕 #bite me #butch #lesbian #sapphic #nblw #wlw #nonbinary #butch/femme #butch/femme culture #butch/femme things

[jeweled-blue-eyes]

What do you think a gloria 's relantionship with yvonne would've been like?

The real yvonne was a sweet but fierce girl,do you think she would tollerate gloria mocking penelope?

And Leila would most likely use gloria's hate for penelope to her advantage,acusing penelope of things she would never even dream of doing,like messing with the "real lady's" food,hurting her or just mocking her for not knowing the rules of high society.

Do you think gloria would have any interest in Reynold? since he hated penelope as much as she did,and he was also stupid,she could make him fall in love with her easily,manupulating him would've been even easier,especially after yvonne returned.

Anyway,sorry for all the questions lol,i just would like to hear your thoughts <3

Gloria would want to establish a good relationship with Yvonne. The reasons for this are as follows: on the one hand, Yvonne is the treasured daughter of one of the most influential noble families in the empire and through her she would be able to make a wide variety of contacts, on the other hand, she is a sensation: a noble daughter who was kidnapped and had to live as Cinderella until one day she regained her memory and was led home by a handome gentleman, where she now has to fight the false daughter to regain her rightful place while at the same time winning the heart of the crown prince. Sounds like a soap opera. As Ivonne's best friend Gloria would have a front row seat at an event that would shape the future of the Empire. It would place her at a point where she would have direct access to intimate details of the Eckart's life and can use this to gain power and popularity at gatherings.

Through her superficial friendship with Ivonne, her good reputation would naturally go over to Gloria. After all, a lovely girl like Ivonne would only surround herself with girls as lovely as she is. Ivonne would virtually become her alibi, her guarantor, her distraction, all eyes would be on Ivonne while Gloria could spin her intrigues undisturbed in her shadow. With the protection of her clique Gloria would be taking Ivonne under her wing and introduce her to high society. Ivonne would feel grateful for her help and be under the misconception that they are already friends, even though Gloria would be only taking advantage of her fame, ready to drop her at any time should Ivonne's family fall from favor. Either Gloria would find Ivonne's company pleasant like a beautiful sweet smelling flower one adorns themselves with or a cute dog one could carry around in their purse to show around, or she would mock her behind her back and Ivonne would neither realize the ambiguity of her words nor that the laughter she was joining in with was directed at herself.

Ivonne as portrayed by Leila seems different to me than I had imagined her in my mind. I thought she was a headstrong and hardworking girl with a strong sense of justice. But this Ivonne seems naive, insecure and shy. Assuming Leila's imitation of Ivonne is true to her character, I think Ivonne would be either unaware of how Penelope is being bullied or that if she does notice something off, she would be just weakly trying to defend Penelope without offending her newfound friends. "That was a bit harsh, don't you think? / Can't we all be nice to each other? / Everyone has good sides and bad sides. I like Gloria, can't you try to see the same in her as I do instead of just assuming the worst? / Perhaps it's better if you two avoid each other... etc etc." She stays quietly in the background during a fight and seeks out Penelope and Gloria separately to comfort them, but she catches Penelope smashing a vase in anger and is cut by a shard and mistakenly believes this was intentional, that Gloria had good personal reasons for disliking Penelope and she was being insensitive in her defense of her sister without considering Gloria's side.

Yes, Gloria would portray Ivonne and herself as the victims and greatly exaggerate the damage that was done even accusing Penelope of doing things to Ivonne they had previously done to her. If Ivonne were to jump to Penelope's defense and assure everyone it was just an accident, even claiming it was her own fault, everyone would think Ivonne was just too nice and playing it down for the sake of maintaining the family peace. Gloria's retributive actions would make it seem like she was just defending her good friend who was too weak to defend herself. If Ivonne ever found out about the brutality of Gloria's bullying of Penelope, Ivonne would mainly blame herself. Gloria would give the appearance of being remorseful or once again play the victim and Ivonne would be able to forgive her because she deceived herself into thinking that Gloria made her hands dirty out of concern and affection for her.

Her choice in men could indicate that Ivonne has the misfortune to attract the affection of one red flag after another. Who's to say the same can't be applied to friends? Ivonne didn't condemn a genocidal imperialist and slaver, so why would she draw the line at bullying and treat it as the only thing that makes a person irredeemable?

I don't think that Gloria would form an interest in Reynold if she can have Derrick. Being the next Duke makes Derrick the grand prize. Besides it's too tiring to pretend to love someone for long. Reynold gives off the impression of someone much demanding in attention. She doesn't have to go that far with Derrick who'd be fine with a marriage of convience. Yeah, Reynold hates Penelope but so does Derrick and Derrick's hatred runs so deep he'd even ignore someone serving Penelope rotten food and would punish her for speaking the truth. That guy would turn a blind eye to her bullying of Penelope under the same roof, even encouraging it, while Reynold would only participate in name-calling and push her around but would get horrified at Gloria's mildest methods of bullying. I would also argue that even if Reynold claims to hate her, he doesn't really hate-hate her (not like Derrick) but feels like he should hate her when deep down he really wants to be liked by her and give her another chance.

Reynold not being as intelligent as Derrick doesn't necessarily make him easier to control. He's impulsive and with the way he seeks out Penelope randomly just to mock her, it'd be only a matter of time until he'd see something he shouldn't and confronts them head-on. I don't think she's his type either, even her fake personality. I feel his type wouldn't be ladylike girls but pure and caring girls like Ivonne that speak their mind, aren't afraid to make their clothes dirty to save someone and gently scold him for getting in trouble. The girl next door/childhood friend who he was as thick as thieves with when they were younger until he noticed something between them changing. (I don't mean to say he was attracted to Ivonne btw).

#Gloria would also be secretly jealous of Ivonne #I'm not up to date with the manhwa #vadd #anon #answered asks #gloria kellen #villains are destined to die #ivonne eckart #death is the only ending for a villainess #ditoeftv

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Big Decisions | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey my lovelies! I know, right, another story in the same week as my other one?? What has the universe come to! I had this idea the other night and I kind of just rolled with the punches. I'm not sure how good it will be, I haven't written in a while and I had an idea of where I wanted this to go and, as usual, it wrote itself and ended up somewhere else. I'm not sure how much I like it but regardless here it is. I tried to make it as fluffy as I could because that's what I need right now lol. Anyway's I hope you like it! Sorry in advance for how long it is!! All my love until next time <3

Description: Y/n is from an influential family like, but not as powerful, as the Mikaelson's and her father is running for the governor of Virginia. In order to increase voting in favour of her father both families decide to merge. In order to do so Y/n agrees to marry one of the Mikaelson boys. The only problem is that she loves all three of them and can't possibly choose between them.

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None, seriously, don't be afraid of having all three at once, that doesn't need a warning

Word count: 5032

Tags: Fluff (or at least attempted fluff)

(Pics aren't mine but the moodboard is :) )

Your footsteps echo softly down the hallway of the Mikaelson’s mansion. Your heels click the beat of a song you haven’t yet learned the words to into the hardwood. It’s a miracle you can even hear it over the rumble of the party below. A thousand voices reach your ears in a crescendo of “good evening” and “my don’t you look lovely” but it stands as little more than white noise in your mind. Your heartbeat rages with it all, mingling with the greetings of strangers and the song your feet are creating at the same time.

The only thing you can truly think about is last night in the garden. It had been Kol’s idea, actually, to have one last night together. It was a beautiful notion, too, if not one that left four souls aching as though they were only one soul being forced into four different fragmented pieces.

There you sat, four fragmented pieces of one soul, tangled so elegantly that anyone looking in would have to squint to see the separate beings. Your back moulded so perfectly into Elijah’s front that it was as if you were made to never be apart in the first place. Though Klaus’ head fit so perfectly in your lap that it would be madness to think anything but the same. However, both such things ignore the delicate trace of Kol’s lips against your neck and mouth and fingertips in such a way that the night sky hadn’t shone half as bright as the stars he left you seeing. How could you even begin to make a decision.

None of you feel quite right about the arrangement. Your families have been close for a few years now, you having met the Mikaelsons at a founders party in your first year of college. Both of your households are founding families with a lot of influence in many parts of the south-eastern United States. While the Mikaelson’s are renowned, your own family, the Lancaster’s, are less well known. With your father running for governor of Virginia it was decided, quite suddenly, that your two families are to combine in order to gain the needed momentum to win at the polls. You, the only daughter to Mary-Anne and Johnathan Lancaster, are to marry any Mikaelson son of your choosing.

To any other woman in Virginia that offer would be a dream come true. The Mikaelson’s are akin to royalty in the United States. However, every other woman in Virginia hasn’t spent the last two years completely consumed by all three brothers. There are only a handful of moments that you can recall that don’t include even one Mikaelson. Every night you fall asleep wrapped around one of your boys. Each of their scents are permanently ingrained in your memory. How can you choose when no matter who you pick the other two will still be there.

You pace back and forth at the top of the winding staircase, silently dreading the descent. You gather the pilling fabric of your gown into your hands and let the silk cool your fiery skin for a few moments longer. You try to hold on to a few pieces of comfort with it. The way Kol had smelled of honey this morning and the feel of Elijah’s arms around you and the little marks Klaus left that are still fading beneath your bodice. You breathe in each of them before you take the first step.

You don’t want to go down the stairs but the first step only brings you to the second that much faster. You take them one at a time, letting your feet even out before every push forward. At this moment you wish that the stairs would never end. You would rather wind for years as your dress turned to dust around you than face the unrelenting truth that waits at the bottom. You would rather turn to dust than choose.

You come too quickly to the bend in the stairs that will reveal you to the party. The murmurs that were previously dulled are now at their peak, crashing over you with a harsh fury of cheerful nothings. You wish you could immerse yourself in the chatter like any other party however tonight isn’t just another party. It’s the party and families from across the country have gathered in the halls below to hear you make your decision.

With a quick breath in, you bring yourself into the glittering light cast by the chandelier hanging above the sweeping foyer. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust from the dark hallway. When they focus once more the air is sucked from your lungs in a startled gasp that turns every eye in the vicinity towards you. As if a switch has been flicked, every sound in the room dies out until all that is left is the slightest tinkling of the glass above your head and muffled sounds of awe.

You will give them that, the dress Rebekah Mikaelson had picked out for you is stunning. A rose coloured, silk gown that would make any Victorian princess green with envy. It’s strapless in the sense that it has silk that hangs off your shoulders, leaving your skin exposed and dusted with gold. Your hair has been curled and pinned up, allowing for some tendrils to frame your face. Bekah dusted the same gold she used on your shoulders on your eyes, bringing a finishing touch to your look. She truly does work miracles.

Your hand stalls on the railing for a moment, your eyes searching the sea of faces below you. It’s surreal to have all the attention on you. You’re used to being around important people, you yourself are one to most people, but you’ve never felt like you fit in with them. You’re just an ordinary girl after all. An ordinary girl who just happens to have the hearts of three Mikaelson’s in her palm. Now, if you could only spot them amongst the crowd.

As if they can hear their names flowing through your mind, they appear at the base of the steps. You shouldn’t be surprised at how dashing they all look but you’re still left open-mouthed at the sight of them. They're each clad head to toe in all black, the perfect contrast to your dress. The dark to your light and vice versa. They never disappoint.

Your feet begin moving of their own accord to meet them at the bottom of the staircase, the clicking of your heels ricocheting like bullets through the still silent foyer. You can feel their stares like flames on every inch of your exposed skin. The crowd is holding their breath in anticipation of the interaction to come, waiting ready for the moment you make your decision. It feels positively medieval, as if as soon as you choose you will be forced to rip off your clothes and mate for the court to see and deem your bond official. It’s too bad if that’s what they're expecting. They would be in for quite a shock if they saw the distinct markings of not one but three Mikaelson’s already on your skin.

Three mouthwatering scents swirl around you, encouraging you to move faster. Before you clear the last fifteen or so steps, however, the unthinkable happens. You trip. Your heel catches the loose fabric of your dress and rips your feet out from under you, a riptide of events that should have been foreseen. Your eyes slam shut the minute you go into freefall, not wanting to see the mess your body will create when you hit the marble. The fall feels like hours rather than seconds, waiting for an impact that will shatter life as you know it but the end never comes.

“Baby,” it takes you a moment to register the arms around your waist and the pine tree scent enveloping you, “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Another pair of hands grip on to your arm, sending waves of familiar warmth and nutmeg rushing through your chest, “my clumsy darling, what was our dear sister thinking when she put you in those heels.”

“She clearly wasn’t or else she would have remembered that she tripped three times just this morning,” you’re pulled easily into a new pair of strong arms, “isn’t that right, love?”

You can’t help but let the smile fall on your lips, your eyes tugging open to meet the ocean ones already looking at you, “you know me too well, Klaus.”

The smile is already on his lips, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “of course love, that’s my job.”

He leans down to place a quick kiss on your forehead before steadying you. You turn to face the remaining brothers, both of whom look ready to pull you once more into their arms. They’re circled around you, blocking the crowd from seeing you until they have had their moment with you. It warms your heart immensely. Up close they look even more ravishing. When you take your time inspecting them, though, you see the circles under their eyes.

Elijah’s are the most prominent, his skin tinged a plum colour that in no way mars the beauty of his face. If anything it adds an ethereal glow. He’s always been the one to worry the most. He is the oldest after all, most of the stress falls on his shoulders. His deliciously sculpted shoulders. It’s his job to hold his family together, tonight is no exception. You waste no time pulling him towards you and wrapping your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his chocolate hair.

“You look like you need a nap, Eli,” you tug softly at the strands between your fingers, “it’ll all be okay.”

You can feel the deep breath he takes, as if the air is going into your lungs instead of his, “I know, baby.”

He squeezes his arms around you a little tighter than usual before releasing you. It takes Kol no time to scoop you into his arms, burying his face in your neck. You grip his back with shaking fingers, admiring the muscles through his jacket as a moment of peace before the storm to come. You don’t want to let him go. You don’t want to leave the little bubble the four of you have created.

“No matter what happens out there tonight, I'm yours darling. Until the sun doesn’t rise in the east, I’m yours,” he places a soft kiss to your throat and tears sting at your eyes but you refuse to let them fall.

He pulls back, a small smile on his lips. You look up to the other two one last time, feeling the crowd grow impatient at your hidden actions. You know that tonight isn't about you but you can’t help but let the seconds tick by freely. This could very well be the last moment the four of you share publicly.

Klaus nods his head carefully, squeezing one of his hands into a fist at his side, “until the sun doesn’t set in the west, I am yours, love.”

You pull your lip between your teeth to bite back the trembling, steeling yourself as you turn in finality to Elijah. His chocolate eyes are already on you. The determination in them lights something hot and not at all unfamiliar in the pit of your stomach. He takes another deep breath, your eyes drawn to the rise and fall of his chest.

“And every moment after I will be yours, baby, that is my promise.”

When the words leave his lips you revel in the fleeting moment of calm that rushes over you.

The strength in your voice startles you a little bit, “I am yours before, during, and after. That is my promise. Let’s do this.”

The boys stand taller when you say the words, completing a promise you made to each other over a year ago. They part, allowing you to walk into the crowd of statues. No one moves, every eye glued to you once more. You can’t help but feel small under their gaze but you don’t back down, choosing instead to smile and stare back.

“Sweetheart, there you are!”

And just like that all the activity in the room restarts, all the chatter and music and tinkling restored like a fire under the floor. Your mother, Mary-Anne, appears from the crowd in a stunning blue gown. It accentuates her delicate features. She was a southern belle in her youth and it still shows, especially in her accent. You could get lost in the honey that is your mother’s voice.

“Hello, mama,” you fall into her embrace easily, breathing in her lilac lotion, “I’m sorry I took so long, Bekah wanted everything to be perfect.”

Your mother giggles, music to your aching soul, “except the shoes I see.”

You pull away with a blush, meeting her cheerful eyes with mild embarrassment, “oh my, you saw that?”

“Darling, all of Virginia saw it,” she takes your arm, leading you towards the ballroom where guests are steadily flowing to designated tables, “you gave those boys quite a startle. Your father too. He dropped his drink.”

She giggles again as she directs you to a table at the front of the room, elegantly decorated with an array of flowers and candles. There are enough seats to allow for both of your families and a few other important people to enjoy a nice meal. Your stomach tumbles in a way that makes you doubt the amount of food you will be enjoying tonight.

Your mother hands you a glass of champagne which you take gratefully, “will he be here soon?”

“I’m sure he will be,” she smiles gently at you, pushing a fallen curl behind your ear, “how are you feeling, darling? You look a little rattled.”

“It’s a lot to take in, mama. I’m alright,” you take a sip of your champagne to punctuate your words, letting the sweet bubbles cool your throat.

She places her hand on your own, pulling your attention back to her, “you’re allowed to not be. You’re doing a lot for this family, you know. Your father and I appreciate you very much. It can’t be easy.”

“The hard part isn’t getting married,” you meet her kind eyes and almost crumble, “It’s almost too easy to spend a lifetime with any one of them. They each mean the world to me. Mama, how am I supposed to choose?”

She shakes her head gently, her own curls bouncing lightly, “you just have to trust yourself, darling.”

The ballroom fills steadily, flowing conversation and music through the open space. You quickly spot the Mikaelson's, Bekah now in tow, as well as your father, who looks locked in a serious conversation with Elijah and Klaus. He’s nodding along to whatever they’re saying, clearly absorbing whatever notion they’re pushing. Kol, on the other hand however, remains silent, gazing around the space before locking eyes with you. Even from across the floor you can see his shoulders loosen slightly. Bekah tries to say something to him but he just brushes her off before moving towards you. You feel a touch guilty but you'll apologize later. Right now you need him.

You pass your glass back to your mother, accepting another knowing smile before all but running towards Kol. He clears the space quicker than you can, meeting you just in front of the table.

“You know, I don’t recall having told you how breathtaking you look yet this evening,” his words pour over you as he takes the final steps towards you, “and that should be a punishable crime. You look absolutely stunning, darling.”

He laces his arms once more around your waist, drawing you into his chest, “we’re all a little flustered tonight, I think I can pardon you just this once. Besides, I haven’t told you how marvellous you look yet either.”

You whisper the words into his chest, closing your eyes for a brief moment. His touch brings you some clarity. You wish you were curled up watching a movie instead of in a ball gown.

He pulls back slightly, lifting your chin to meet his warm eyes, “I meant what I said earlier, no matter who you choose I’m not going anywhere. None of us are.”

“I don’t think I can do it, Kol,” you look towards your father sitting next to your mother, both laughing with another couple, “I can’t hurt any of you.”

“Love,” you're pulled from Kol’s grasp and into a different but no less familiar hold, “we know this isn’t what you want. It’s not what any of us want. You need to trust us. Follow your instincts. Now come on, we’ll miss dinner.”

Klaus leads you to the table and a plate filled with what would normally be your favourite foods. Elijah is already waiting with your chair pulled out, sitting you between your mother and father.

He leans down before you can sit, his lips grazing your ear as he speaks, “just relax, baby. I love you.”

He presses a kiss to your ear before tucking you in and taking his own seat across from you. The ballroom soon fills with the sharp sounds of forks and knives scraping against porcelain and even more happy chatter than before. Your own table becomes a flurry of excited words and talk of the upcoming elections and wedding ideas. You’re bombed with many sneaky attempts to hear your decision early but you brush every one of them off, nervously taking bites of food every few minutes.

“So, honey,” your father turns to you with a grin, lowering his voice and drawing you into your own little bubble, “how’s my star doing?”

You focus on his nose, not wanting to meet his eyes quite yet, “I’m great, dad. This dinner is wonderful.”

He chuckles quietly and you can feel his gaze trying to pull your focus to him, “you would know, right, with all the food you've eaten?’

He isn’t wrong, you’ve barely cleared half your plate, “I’m not hungry is all.”

“You? Not hungry? Now I know something is really wrong here,” his hand grasps yours lightly, “look at me, what’s going on in that noggin of yours?”

You don’t mean to sigh but it happens anyway, “It’s just a lot to digest. It’s a really big decision.”

“You’re right it is, honey,” he squeezes your hand gently, “but I know you’ve got what it takes. You can’t disappoint me. Never have and you never will.” He looks in front of you, “besides, I think those boys know what they're doing. I trust them to help you figure this out.”

Like your mother, he always seems to know what to say. You have a strong family, one that holds each other up in the hardest of choices. You look across the table to meet the eyes of three men already looking at you. They each smile at you in their own way. Elijah’s is with his eyes, the rest of his face remaining stone. Klaus smirks at you, the blue of his eyes sparkling mischievously. Kol tilts his head to the side, a soft grin on his lips.

Soon the music becomes louder and guests start pouring onto the dance floor, swaying to an elegant piece made up of violins and flutes. Your own table clears with the rest, leaving the four of you alone. Elijah, as per usual, is the first one out of his seat.

“Would you do me the immense honour of sharing this dance?”

The formality in his words brings you a bubbling sense of warmth and you, of course, rise to meet his outstretched hand. He leads you to the middle of the floor, twirling you under another chandelier before pulling you tight against his chest. You’re once again wrapped in his forest scent and you lay your head against him, trusting him to keep you from falling. The music swirls around you, drowning out the noise of the others around you. They're no doubt speculating that you’ve made your decision but, in reality, this is just yours and Elijah’s thing: dancing.

He moves you beautifully across the floor, pulling you slightly to where it feels like you’re gliding on ice. The rest of the couples move back, allowing for the two of you to take as much space as you need. You feel like you dance for an eternity, giggling as he spins you endlessly across the polished wood floor. He eventually lifts you, turning you in what you assume is a final twirl, only to pass you into another pair of ocean breeze arms.

Klaus takes over effortlessly, falling into the same pattern that Elijah had created, “sorry to cut in, love, I couldn’t help myself.”

You move the hand that lays on his shoulder and wrap it around the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair and drawing as close to him as you can. He takes his time dancing with you the same as his brother had. By now all the other dancers have stopped and cleared completely off the floor. Each eye is trained on the pair of you like lasers to a target. You will yourself to remain completely focused on Klaus’ movements.

It takes both an eternity and mere seconds for you to land in Kol’s arms, who twirls you one last time, perfectly stopping with the music. When the last violin dies out, a clock chimes through the room. Your shoulders tense on their own, the rest of your body following suit. Ten O’clock. Choosing time.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome,” your father’s voice pours through speakers placed around the hall but you can barely register the words being said, “I know many of you have travelled great lengths to be here today and for that our families are incredibly grateful. Tonight is a momentous occasion. It marks the engagement of my girl, Y/n, to one of these fine men.”

Your father motions across the room to where you stand, now with all three brothers stood in front of you, “each one of them have expressed their interest in my daughter and now, with all of you to witness such a grand step in her life, she will choose which of them she would like to marry.”

Whatever head that wasn't already turned now faces you, each holding their breath in anticipation. You aren't looking at them though. Instead, you’re facing the three men that you would do anything in the world for. You can almost see your aching heart already in your hands, ready to rip it into three even pieces and hand it to them with little bows.

You look at Klaus first. Your creative spirit who could fill an entire museum with paintings of your face alone. His hands twitch slightly at his sides and he closes them into fists when you notice. He offers you a small smile and you remember the other night when he fell asleep on your lap while watching a movie in the den. He hasn't been sleeping properly with all the arrangements for tonight being settled and you running your hands through his hair had been the final push he needed to collapse. You make sure he’s looking at your lips when you mouth I love you across the room.

You turn quickly to Elijah from there, locking eyes with him immediately. Your warrior who looks especially undone in comparison to his usual put together self. He looks like he has to stop himself from closing the distance between the two of you and that it’s taking most of his remaining energy to do so. That’s Eli for you though, he never can stay away from you for too long. When you mouth I love you to him he stands a little straighter.

You find Kol’s eyes easily from there. Your rebellious, hell-raiser with a glint in his face that you would be able to see from all the way across the room. His hand is in his hair, tugging the strands between his fingers in a way that only he could make look elegant. He’s got a look in his eyes that begs you to do something entirely untraditional. He mouths I love you before you can even open your mouth.

You stand there for an eternity, your feet stuck as though rooted through the floor. Every moment from the past two years rushes through your head. You aren't dying; this isn't a life flashing before your eyes type moment but it may as well be. These three have been your entire life since you were introduced. Not one of them alone could have brought you here. Every moment for two years has been leading to you standing here, with them, at this very second.

It hits you quite suddenly that if you were to remove two of them, the equation that makes up who you are wouldn't be correct anymore. You’ve been juggling with the idea that your soul is four parts rather than two for quite some time now. It wouldn't be right to give three parts to one person, not when each of them have taken the time to so delicately etch their names onto their own separate parts.

You can’t pick just one of them. You’ve known that from the beginning, you just didn’t know what you were going to do about it until now. Your hands tremble now that you know your decision, a chill running up your spine at the thought of sharing it with the crowd. It’s not exactly conventional what you’re about to say.

“I choose Klaus.”

The crowd releases the breath it had been holding for hours. Too bad they're going to be sucking it back in soon. Klaus’ eyes are wide, his mouth open as though he didn't expect to be your choice. Your heart breaks for him and you remind yourself to spend more time with him when this is all over. Your other two boys look devastated, the smiles on their lips looking more like pained grimaces. Your heart squeezes in your chest.

“And I choose Elijah.”

Just like that there is once again no air left in the room. You begin walking towards them, ignoring the buzz of whispers growing in the room. You peer over their shoulders at you parents who don’t look nearly as stunned as they should. In fact your mother is beaming at you. You can feel the pride radiating off her from thirty feet away. You can’t tell if your father mouths I told you so or if you imagine it.

The boys begin moving towards you as well, ready to cover you from the storm raging around you. You can tell there are a thousand things they want to say but you’re not done speaking yet.

You look to the last Mikaelson, willing a smile to take over the frown on his gorgeous face, “and, of course, I choose Kol.”

The crowd roars around you but you’re surrounded with a wall of Mikaelson, blocking you from the prying eyes. You look at each of them, trying to gauge their reactions. You know they said that they're yours but you never discussed marrying all of them. You don’t even know if you can do that. It’s now entirely overwhelming in a completely new way. All three of them stare at you with a mix of shock and awe. Like this is the first time they’re seeing you. You wring your hands together waiting for one of them to say something.

None of them do, though. Instead Elijah closes the space between your bodies and crashes his lips onto yours, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down hard. His hands grasp your waist with strong fingers, leveling you against his tall frame. It sends shocks through your entire system and you revel in the outright display he’s putting on. He’s the last one you would have expected to lose it in a crowd.

Kol is the next one to close in on you, wrapping his arms around you as well and gently kissing your shoulder. The fire Elijah started in your stomach only increases when Kol bites down. You gasp into Elijah’s mouth but it’s quickly swallowed by the man himself. Kol’s lips feel heavenly against your exposed skin.

Klaus finally steps towards you, tangling his arms in the mess of your bodies and completing your circle. His lips meet the side of your throat in a way only he can, biting down deliciously. When Elijah finally pulls away from you, the rest of them follow. You know your skin is most definitely bruised and your lips swollen. Your curls have most definitely fallen from their pins. You would be worried but each of them still hold you, caged around your body for no one but themselves to see.

The rush of the evening hits you all at once, a strong fatigue laying across your bones. You let your eyes close as you lean further into Elijah. Sensing the finality of your movements, he scoops you up, careful to keep your dress in it’s beautiful condition. He starts walking out of the room, ignoring the protests around him. On cue Kol and Klaus join him on either side.

“Eli, we can’t leave, they’re expecting us,” you can’t hide the yawn in your voice.

“We can, and we are leaving, baby,” he tightens his arms around you, “you need to sleep.”

You shake your head unconvincingly, “I’m fine, Eli.”

The other Mikaelson brothers just laugh.

The smile in Kol’s voice is audible, “yes you are, darling, but humor us won’t you?”

“They’ll be mad at me,” your voice trails off at the end, blackness creeping in around the edges of your mind despite your protests.

“You’ve done more than enough, love, we can take it from here.”

Klaus’ voice is the last you hear, not even making it back up the stairs before you drift out of consciousness.

#the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd #to #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #the originals imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson imagine

[adowbaldwin]

Overworked and not even paid

@sazmags requested after i forcefully mentioned i wanted someone to request Gallowglass. “21st Century Gallowglass run ragged by Baldwin”

FYI - ABIT OF SMUT AND IT COVERS A TOPIC THAT MIGHT BE ABIT SENSITIVE TO SOME PEOPLE, SO APOLOGIES IF YOU’RE OFFENDED BUT READ AT YOUR OWN RISK okay thanks

“Gall, oh god” she whimpered as he rolled his hips into her “Don’t fucking stop” her head tipped back, burying her face into his forearm that was caging her frame

His hips beat into hers making delightful friction, he was so close and she was even closer. He grunted “Mm come on sweetheart let it go” it may have seemed cute that he called her sweetheart, but in all honesty it was just because he couldn’t remember her name. He had learnt, calling women by a pet name was far better then getting their actual names wrong; they can be so touchy sometimes.

“FUCK” He bellowed, emitting an animalistic growl followed by various other profanities in different languages

The woman thought this outburst had been a result of their current friction “I know” she whined as she felt her end nearing

Suddenly, he pulled free of her bounding out of the bed scrambling for his clothes, mumbling absentmindedly to himself “Sorry sweetheart, you best get dressed and quickly” he started throwing various pieces of clothing at her as he scrambled to put on his own

Sometimes he wished he could murder his Uncle, especially in this moment. He had heard the footsteps of oxfords smashing against the stone flooring before he’d scented the woodfires and abruptly stopped fucking the delightful woman before he walked in on the situation.

He had managed to tuck himself in half looking presentable when the bedroom door flung open to a angry looking, copper haired demon “Uncle” he beamed sarcastically “how good of you to join us”

The woman almost fainted from embarrassment of being caught half naked by a stranger, and gladly left fully clothed five minutes after the interruption. She’d happily finish herself off at home to save face.

“I sent you to Ireland to keep close watch, not wet your wick with THE FUCKING HELP” Baldwin screeched, fuming that his nephew had been so blaze about his orders

“Oh come on now, there’s got to be some perks to the job” he hadn’t quiet grasped the complicated situation arising between Ireland and England, and Baldwin often wished he could clone himself so there would be other dependable people in the family

He stepped closer to Gallowglass, matching him in height and brawn “if I send you somewhere for work, you work” he growled “if I wanted you to catch an STI I’d of sent you to Ibiza”

He held his hands up in mocking surrender “Alright calm down, what’s the big deal anyway? Who cares if Ireland want reunification and to leave Britain, doesn’t every country they’ve raped an pillaged?” the Scott could sympathise with the growing cause, having fought in almost every battle of Scottish independence

“I couldn’t care less if Ireland decides it wants to become a state of America, what I won’t see is petrol bombs and innocent lives being taken” he stepped as close as he could, distinguishing any power Gallowglass may have held “now do your job, or ill have your head” he turned on his heels and made a point of slamming the door on his way out

What a delight he was.

 Gallowglass ran his hands through his wiry beard as he honestly wished he’d killed his uncle that day. why on Earth he had sent him on this job and not Matthew was perplexing. The 1980’s should have been a good time, women in leather trousers and the rising ‘House’ scene meant Gallowglass got to prowl the nightclubs and always had a warm blood in his bed at the end of the night.

The Hacienda club had some particularly wonderful woman with questionable morals. He liked that.

Instead, he had spent a majority of it infiltrating the ‘IRA’, preventing what attacks he could, delivering messages to headquarters via Scotland and keeping tabs on every influential figure in the ‘organisation’. He felt pushed and pulled in all directions, and on more the one occasion thought he had been rumbled.

He shook what little hair he had now as he pulled it free from his helmet, ruffling his hands through the messy locks. He had been wired up for the last meeting in Belfast, and now had to relay what he had uncovered to a woman called Sandra (whose name definitely wasn’t Sandra).

Sometimes, between all the spying, preventative measures and travelling he’s often forget what he was supposed to relay. Was he meeting with another Doherty? Was she an agent from MI5? Is she the Queen of Sheba? Lord only knows at this point. He’d been following the footsteps of multiple families since 1975 and now couldn’t decipher anything anymore.

He took his seat opposite the woman, nodding politely at the waitress whom had brought him over coffee with a small (large) dash of whisky in it. He handed her over the transcripts bunched up between ‘The Sun’ and they began to talk lowly as if he wasn’t handing over important information.

“So, Scotland lost against Ireland yesterday” She smiled meekly in his direction

“Aye they did, Rugby fan are you lassie?” he sipped the murky brown substance steaming in the cup, and if it weren’t for the extensive whisky he’d of chucked it out the window

“Aren’t we all?” she sighed, digging around in her purse. Moments later she had pulled out two cigarettes, pointing one in his direction “Smoke?”

He nodded, taking the Camel Blue from her “Need a light?” he pulled his free from his leather jacket pocket, sparking hers first then his own.

That sat puffing away, breaking into small talk every now and then as to not look too inconspicuous. After all, he had just delivered Her Majesties government the last plotting details of the ‘M60 gang’ that should hopefully see the end of the Doherty’s.

 He had found through the extensive chain of communications he had set up his information had given the SAS a full picture of the movements of the M60 gang, leading to a successful trial. He was positively spent, no energy left to work and for the love of God wished his Uncle wouldn’t send him anywhere else.

He had a meeting with the devil himself that afternoon, and knowing he only had a few hours before his next orders would arrive all he wanted to do was rest.

He lazily threw his jacket on his sofa and sunk down into the leather. His eyes closed for a moment, and he delighted in the perfect piece he had finally found.

Faint noises of cars speeding by outside had sent him into a daze, and if it weren’t for his keen senses he wouldn’t of heard the front door opening

Peculiar he thought, Baldwin wasn’t due home for another few hours “Uncle, is that you?” he couldn’t smell his familiar scent, instead what had wafted through was the strong odour of tobacco and rolling paper.

He peered up from his comfortable position, shocked to have met the eyes of ‘Sandra’. He thought, possibly she had been a double agent like he had, and was here to kill him “If you’re here to kill me lassie, you are in for a big shock” his hand involuntarily gripped the small knife he kept at all times, though she was human and he wouldn’t need of such weapons to dispose of her

She smiled darkly “I’m not here to kill you, Eric” she licked her lips wantonly “I was just curious about the most illusive of the De Clermont bunch” she had begun to remove her jacket, each pop of the button perpetuating her words

“Oh no, my Uncles gonna go spare. He’ll be here soon” truthfully, he was far too tired for a fight with his Uncle, despite how tempting she was having ten bells knocked out of him wasn’t worth it.

She smirked, dropping to her knees running her hands up his thighs “Oh, you needn’t worry” she chuckled “He sent me on behalf of Her Majesty’s Service to thankyou for your aid” She winked knowingly as her hands sought to free him from his jeans. She wasn’t particularly a fan of the double denim he was sporting, but was never the less intrigued by the biker.

He looked down at her, and she peeped up with the most innocent doe-eyed expression, and it was the most beautiful sight he’d seen in a while.  

Thank God for Uncle Baldwin he thought as her tongue swirled his tip. What a legend.

#fic #adow #a discovery of witches #gallowglass

[nxies]

╰      ♡   ALWAYS  BE  MY  MAYBE  SENTENCES.

contains  themes  of  sex,  drugs  death,  and  mild  violence.  feel  free  to  change  pronouns  and  wording  to  suit  you  !

❛  nobody  wants  to  sit  next  to  that  kid  with  the  thermos  soup.   ❜

❛  you’re,  like,  my  best  friend.  ❜

❛  you  don’t  know  the  words,  do  you?  ❜

❛  shh.  I  don’t  need  to  know  the  words  to  know  that  it’s  emotional,  and  sensual,  and  full  of  melodic  feelings,  okay?  ❜

❛  hey,  where’d  you  get  that  condom?  ❜

❛  your  car  smells  like  parmesan.  ❜

❛  no,  that  was  supposed  to  be  cute.  that  was  supposed  to  be  like,  "'cause  we  had  sex,  I  know  what  you  sound  like.”  ❜

❛  you  took  off  my  underwear.  you  took  it  to  the  next  step.  ❜

❛  just  because  you’re  always  at  our  house,  eating  our  food,  watching  our  tv  because  your  parents  don’t  care  enough  to  ever  be  around,  doesn’t  mean  you  know  shit  about  how  I’m  feeling.  ❜

❛  you  are  such  an  asshole.  ❜

❛  you  can  get  it  to  go  if  you  wanna  eat  it  in  your  car  and  cry.  ❜

❛  your  mom  wants  to  pick  you  up  from  the  airport.  I  told  her  I’d  get  you  a  car  and  then  she  yelled  and  hung  up  me.  ❜

❛  I’ve  been  thinking  about  this  a  lot,  and  if  it’s  cool  with  you,  I’d  like  to  postpone  the  wedding.  ❜

❛  so  instead  of  getting  married,  he’s  gonna,  like,  just  eat  pray  love?  ❜

❛  never  give  anybody  your  heart.  ❜

❛  hi.  yeah,  hi,  ______.  hi.  hello.  hi.  wassuuuupp.  ❜

❛  oh,  he’s  still  an  asshole.  he’s  just  a  stealth  asshole.  ❜

❛  okay,  first  of  all,  you  sound  like  count  chocula.  ❜

❛  p.s.  have  you  seen  yourself  in  those  coveralls?  you  look  like  a  homeless  astronaut.  ❜

❛  don’t  use  your  phone  voice  on  me,  bitch.  ❜

❛  I  have  to  say,  I’m  surprised  you  two  lost  touch.  you  used  to  be  so  close.  ❜

❛  I  always  thought  . . .  maybe  you’d  end  up  together.  ❜

❛  I  was  spiralling.  ❜

❛  I  didn’t  think  I  would  like  retirement,  but  it’s  good.  yesterday,  I  hung  a  bird  feeder  on  a  tree.  ❜

❛  uh,  counter  point:  when  has  our  band  made  any  sense?  ❜

❛  no,  actually  I’m  a  lgbtqia  ally.  so,  thank  you,  uh,  for  your  service.  ❜

❛  I  was  a  polyam  before  ______  and  I  got  married.  ❜

❛  we’re  married  spriritually.  and  sexually.  ❜

❛  I'd  be  happy  to  charge  you  for  the  ride  if  it  makes  you  feel  any  better.  ❜

❛  she  sleeps  bottomless  like  a  sexy  asian  winnie  the  pooh.  ❜

❛  stupid  beautiful  ______.  ❜

❛  are  we  done  with  this  meeting?  because  I  wanna  smoke  weed  now,  but  I  don’t  wanna  disrespect  the  process.  ❜

❛  kids  know  that  shit  is  delicious.  ❜

❛  I  cannot  believe  I  wasted  my  prime  reproductive  years  on  you.  ❜

❛  I  hope  you  have  terrible  karma  and  come  back  in  your  next  life  as  a  nasty  little  lizard  and  get  stepped  on  by  someone  on  a  hike!  ❜

❛  all  these  men  saying  how  much  they  want  a  strong  woman.  what  they  really  want  is  a  cheerleader.  ❜

❛  I’m  gonna  die  all  alone  in  a  big  house  all  by  myself  in  complete,  utter,  and  deafening  silence.  I  can  feel  it.  ❜

❛  that’s  how  you  remember  your  entire  childhood.  you  painted  the  whole  thing  with  a  shit  brush,  but  it’s  not  true.  ❜

❛  ______  thinks  she  knows  everything  about  everything.  plus  she’s  a  celebrity  now,  and  all  celebrities  are  insane.  ❜

❛  I  don’t  normally  broadcast  this  kind  of  thing,  but  we  had  the  most  insane,  freaky-ass  sex.  ❜

❛  look,  look!  I  have  a  hickey,  like  a  teenager.  ❜

❛  it’s  like  truth  or  dare  but  a  little  more  apocalyptic.  ❜

❛  the  entire  time.  eighteen  years,  I  had  a  crush  on  you.  ❜

❛  if  you  had  to  choose  one  person  in  this  room  to  die,  who  would  it  be?  ❜

❛  you  can’t  change  the  world  without  influential  people.  ❜

❛  you  can’t  sit  still.  you  just  go  and  go  and  go  and  you  fill  your  life  up  with  these  awards,  and  deals,  and  these  idiot  boyfriends  who  are  obviously  wrong  for  you,  and  you  lie  to  yourself  that  any  of  it  is  ever,  ever  going  to  make  you  feel  even  slightly  less  miserable.  ❜

❛  you  have  all  of  this  talent,  and  you  waste  it.  you  do  shit  with  it.  ❜

❛  I  punched  keanu  reeves.  ❜

❛  you  wanna  hit  that?  you  hit  on  him,  I’ll  mess  up  your  life.  ❜

❛  I  love  that  you’re  back  home.  ❜

❛  I  mean,  no  pressure,  but  I  feel  like  I’m  a  total  natural  godmother.  like,  the  way  I’m  cradling  her  . . .  ❜

❛  I’m  gonna  godmother  the  shit  out  of  you.  ❜

❛  you  look  llike  1980s  ellen  when  she  did  stand-up.  ❜

❛  who  came  up  with  that  term  anyway?  it’s  so  pretentious.  ❜

❛  asian  food  shouldn’t  be  served  in  a  shot  glass.  it  should  be  served  in  a  big-ass  bowl.  ❜

❛ ��I  love  you,  ______.  I’ve  loved  you  since  we  were  kids.  ❜

❛  I  don’t  need  you  to  live  my  life,  but  I  need  you  to  understand  that  this  is  my  life.  ❜

❛  I  wanna  be  with  you.  I  wanna  come  home  to  you  even  when  you’re  being  an  asshole.  ❜

❛  you  are  such  a  fucking  coward.  ❜

❛  I  don’t  want  you  to  live  a  life  of  regret  and  think,  “maybe  if  I  tried  harder---”  ❜

❛  you  lost  mom.  I  can’t  leave  you,  too.  ❜

❛  at  some  point,  you’re  going  to  have  to  take  a  chance  on  something.  ❜

❛  I  am  so  sorry.  I  messed  up.  ❜

❛  I  know  this  is  too  little  too  late,  and  you  probably  never  wanna  talk  to  me  again,  but  I  don’t  know,  I’m  going  to  keep  trying.  ❜

❛  I  can’t  let  another  sixteen  years  go  by  without  talking  to  you.  ❜

❛  hi.  there  is  a  very  middle  class  man  on  his  way  up  to  see  you.  ❜

❛  wow.  you  cute,  but  you  dumb.  ❜

❛  check  the  attitude,  bitch.  ❜

❛  the  whole  plane  ride  over  here,  I  was  trying  to  figure  out  how  I  could  say  this  in  some  great  way,  but  I  couldn’t,  so  I’m  just  gonna  say  it  badly.  ❜

❛  I  wanna  be  where  you  are.  ❜

❛  I-I  just  want  to  be  with  you.  I  wanna  make  you  laugh.  I  want  you  to  call  me  out  when  I’m  not  pushing  myself  hard  enough.  ❜

❛  I  probably  should  have  left  the  sex  part  out.  I’m  worried  that  it  cheapened  it.  anyway,  I  just  . . .  ❜

❛  that  was  the  bad  version?  ❜

❛  it’s  gonna  be  hard  to  give  you  an  unbiased  yelp  review.  ❜

❛  you  think  everyone  knows  I  punched  keanu  reeves?  ❜

#ask meme #rp meme #rp prompts #roleplay meme #rp sentence starters #sentence starters #sentence meme #always be my maybe rp meme #mine. #memes.

[og-lacksubstance-studios]

Protecting You - Part 1

Summary: Strong-willed Detective Sasha Rae is one of the best detective on the NYPD. Her world is suddenly turned upside down when she must protect a prime witness to a crime. Can she put her feelings aside for the sake of the case or will she become a victim herself?

Lungs burning, sprinting, feeling the burning in my legs as my feet hit the pavement of the neighborhood street of New York City. It smells, but it is easy to ignore when I’m chasing a suspect. He tosses the remnants of a trash can to the side, toppling over massive amounts of trash onto the sidewalk. I jump hastily over it like a true cross country runner, not breaking a sweat. He’s fast, but he’s not tactful in the least bit. I push forward, feeling just a little bit more adrenaline hit me, when I toss my entire body at him, tackling him to the ground.

He falls forward onto his face in shock, groaning. “What the fuck? How are you so fast?” He says as I wrap his arms around his back, shackling his wrists behind it. He whines as I fasten them tightly.

I ignore his words. “Mr. Henderson, not only are we going to charge you for theft, but littering is also a crime,” I say. He is a regular I tend to pick up, but being that I’ve picked him up for theft before and he is on parole, things are not looking good for him.

“Oh, well you know I had to make you work for it Detective Rae,” he chuckles as I pull him to his feet.

I roll my eyes. “Listen D, I’d love it if you turned a new leaf before I retire,” I tell him and he laughs as we walk back to the car like we’re on some leisurely stroll.

“Yeah, but where would the fun be in that? You know damn well your ass would miss me too much if I stopped,” he says and I can’t help, but shake my head. He’s a flirt, always has been and a small part of me truly does believe that he continues to get in trouble just so I can pick him up.

We make it back to the car and I stuff him into the backseat, leaving him with a warning. “You need to stay out of trouble. You’re what? Twenty-two. You got an entire life ahead of you. This whole bad boy, trying to be cute thing will wear off super quick,” I tell him and his smile drops slightly, but he eventually nods in understanding as I close the door. I hit the top of the squad car and they drive off.

I watch it go briefly before my phone goes off. I immediately answer.

“Rae,” I answer and listen intently. It’s Chief Walters, also known as my boss. He wants me to come back to the station immediately. “I’m on my way sir,” I respond, pressing the end button, before getting in my car nearby to head back.

Walking into the station always gives me this bittersweet feeling because I busted my ass to leave it. I have my own desk and everything, but I love being out in the field. I love not wearing the blue uniform that makes me brutally obvious I’m an officer.

It is also bittersweet because I turn heads—often. When I started at the training academy, people just assumed I was a pretty face with no real idea on what I was getting myself into. I knew I’ve been through worse than probably either of them could imagine, but I knew right then and there, it was just another group of people I had to prove wrong. I craved for moments like that.

I think because I do feel like I have something to prove I’m also forced to reconcile with the fact that I may not always be well-liked, but damn-it if I’m not respected.

I advance over to the door of the office and knock softly against the wooden doorframe. Chief Walters looks up from some papers and ushers me inside with a hand motion. “Shut the door,” he commands and I do as I’m told before taking my seat in front of him.

He pulls his glasses off and pushes the file he was reading in front of me. I take it from him, crossing my legs to give it my undivided attention.

I scan over it and note several names I’ve heard in the news lately:

Suspect: Herbert Kline

Age:43

Crime: Money laundering, fraud, tax invasion, first-degree murder.

Victim: James Yooley

Relationship to Suspect: Business partner.

Prime Witness: McKenzie Jefferies

Age: 23

Occupation: Grad Student at Columbia

There are also statements in the file which I’ll have to brief myself on, but Mr. Kline is high profiled. He opened one of the most influential fulfillment businesses in New York state, expanding it throughout the country. And he was only twenty-eight. It was impressive, truly, so to hear of his arrest for all his corrupt money dealings wasn’t the least bit surprising; however, the murder charge was a whole other can of worms entirely.

“I thought he was already arrested and prepping for trial,” I comment finally and Chief Walters nods in agreement.

“So did I; however, I just got off the phone with the district attorneys office and they informed me that the key witness is having reservations about testifying,” he explains and I can’t help but immediately think the worst.

“He has outsiders, business associates spooking her,” I say without question and he smiles softly.

“That is why you’re the best,” he says and I can’t help but look down modestly at his compliment. I try to keep my speculations appearing less like hunches and more like common sense. Anybody that has watched cop dramas probably could have figured that out.

“So what are we looking at? Bringing her down to the station? Meeting at the university? We obviously have to make her reconsider, seeing as she’s our only fighting chance at putting this guy away,” I explain and he nods in agreement once more.

“The DA suggests a security detail till the trial next month,” he says and I close the file, feeling like I helped him work through what I assume was a dilemma.

“Well that’s great, am I free to go?” I ask him and he grimaces, shaking his head slowly. Why do I feel like I’m going to hate the next words that are going to come out of his mouth?

“I would like you to look over her,” he says and my eyes immediately widen. I don’t know the first thing about college. I know that they consist of partying and drinking, football games, and I am just not into that.

“With all due respect, surely someone else is better equipped than I am,” I reason, not wanting to throw out specific names seeing as people already can’t stand me. I bet they’re going to love knowing I’ve been tasked to be a glorified babysitter.

“I chose you because you are one of my best detectives and I don’t think she’s going to want a man to look after her, not when men are trying to threaten her,” he says and I got to appreciate his honesty. I feel validated, but I suppose if I was in her shoes, I would feel a little uncomfortable knowing a male detective was in close proximity of me and I was a young twenty-something year old.

“Listen, it won’t be as bad as you think,” he assures me. “She’s a Grad student, surely she’s well past all the crazy late nights,” he adds and I can’t help but feel unconvinced.

“Are there any specifics I should know about her before I go?” I ask begrudgingly as he flips through a memo that he must have written when on the phone.

“I was told they want live-in security detail, instead of the standard car parked outside of dorm room, so you know I’m not a massive fan of this, but preferably you could have her stay with you, seeing as she does have a roommate,” he explains and I close my eyes, inwardly screaming. This cannot get any worse.

I put on a fake smile, taking the file with me. “I’ll see what I can do,” I tell him as I get up from the chair and walk out of the office.

I make my way over to my desk and park my butt into it to give myself some time of relief before my world turns upside down for a month. I flip open the file again and stare at the photos inside. There are crime scene photos, Kline’s mugshot, and a witness photo.

My eyes fixate on the girl that is not much younger than I and admittedly she doesn’t look like the partying type. She looks like she may be active or that she works out, and perhaps that will be a good thing for the two of us to bond over while we’re stuck with each other for a month. I’m not expecting to become best friends with her or anything, but we have to deal with one another, so why make it a miserable experience?

I glance up at the clock and it reads a little past one in the afternoon. I sigh heavily and close the file, locking it in my drawer before getting up to head out of the office to meet my new charge.

#protecting you #w/w fiction

[mafiabosstsuna]

Prompt 7: Introduction to both the legal and illegal sides of the Shimon famiglia whether Enma wants it to happen or not

There was blood on her dress, the iron smell permeating the air strongly. After Enma shot his attacker, more sprung up from the restaurants. Many of them were patrons for the evening and were dressed to the nines. Their rings lit up the room, each color burning brightly before being extinguished along with the lives of their users.

Enma stuck close to the Omega civilian, taking down anyone coming their way. He kept her behind him at all times, making sure none of them touched her at all. There were gun shots, box animals released and fighting viciously as the kitchen staff ran out to defend their boss from the attackers.

To be honest, he was mildly impressed but mostly worried with the lack of response from his companion. She didn’t scream during the brief skirmish but her fear was evident in her eyes, her hands covering her mouth tightly. The bottom of her dress was bloodied, someone’s blood splashing against her bare legs and heels.

Once it was all said and done, with one attacker being kept alive and knocked out for questioning later, Enma approached her slowly. He didn’t want to spook her at all and did his best to emit soothing pheromones through the air. His inner Alpha whined at the idea of distressing the Omega, scentless as she was with the patches on her neck becoming visible through her makeup.

He called her name out twice, finally getting her attention. A sigh escaped his lips as she lunged for a dinner knife on the restaurant table and held it in front of her, the tip facing down with a strong grip.

So she knows how to hold a knife properly to attack someone with? That’s good.

Enma stopped in his tracks, still sending out his pheromones towards her and kept an eye on the knife she held in her hands. Neither made any moves as she breathed heavily, her eyes darting around the room. He watched her take in the bodies on the floor, the blood seeping out of them, the scattered open boxes, the bloodied kitchen staff cleaning the bodies and blood away.

The Omega lowered her hands, looking at him with confused and tired eyes. “Enma, what’s going on?”

He took slow steps towards her, pleased when she closed the distance herself, and guided them towards a table thankfully untouched by the fight that broke down. Pulling out her seat, he pushed her in and dragged his chair next to hair. Enma took her hand in his and prepared himself for a long story telling. His guardians flitted in the background, staying close to him and waiting for any sort of signal he would give him.

“My name is Enma Shimon and I am the boss of the Shimon famiglia...”

They spent the rest of their destroyed date with Enma explaining who he was and what he does. He talked about his family and his famiglia, introducing her to each of his guardians. He talked about how he ran to types of businesses to help support the Shimon, legal and honest business and the underground businesses he was slowly gaining more influence over.

It was at this she interrupted him since he first began. “That’s why your in the class?”

He nodded, the corner of his lips rising in a small smile. “Yeah, that’s why.”

She stayed quiet after that, listening fully to everything he had to tell her. The Omega would shake her head whenever he would ask if he needed to slow down or explain something, letting him know she was following along. If it weren’t for her thumb caressing his hand that held her own, Enma would never have thought she was even listening at all.

A kitchen staff member came out and leaned down to ask the Alpha if he still wanted their dinner or to just give them the meal to-go. Enma was about to reply when his date interrupted him. “We will be eating here, actually.”

Enma gave her an incredulous look. “Really? Even with all this,” he asked as he waved his hand to gesture to the still present dead bodies and blood on the restaurant floor.

“This is a date, dammit, and it’s going to end like a date,” she huffed smiling slightly at him.

The kitchen member nodded before heading back to the kitchen to grab their dinner. He arrived with two plates, their chosen entrees steaming and hot despite the fight that took place outside the kitchens. Apparently, someone had stayed behind to cook the food during the fight.

Together they ate the food silently. Only the sounds of cutlery and the hushed tones of some Shimon family members were heard as neither Omega nor Alpha talked. Enma ate because he was anxious to hear her thoughts now that she knew who he really was.

Would she hate him? Despise him? Reject him? His inner alpha screamed at the idea of rejection, not wanting to be parted from the Omega with the delicious scent he wanted to be treated with once more.

Enma could’t get a good reading on her as he watched her eat. At this, his inner alpha calmed down a little. Knowing the Omega was eating gave him a sense of relief of being able to provide for her and the bodies that littered the floor gave him the satisfaction of obviously being able to protect her if needed.

“So I’m guessing since the kitchen staff answer to you, you also own this restaurant?”

He hummed, nodding his head before swallowing his bite of dinner. “That’s why I told you not to worry about the cost for dinner tonight.” He placed his knife and fork down, dinner completely finished as he watched her slowly eat and savor each bite. “I was hoping-”

She interrupted him once more. “I don’t own a restaurant.”

Confused, Enma nodded again. “I figured as much. But I bet you cook well enough to probably open one if you wanted.”

The woman placed her utensils down and wiped her mouth with the napkin cloth. “Flatterer, you know that’s bullshit” She hesitantly smiled at him, trying to seem as if the attack didn’t affect her at all. The stare Enma gave her caused her to drop that frown and look away. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Enma.”

“You started this conversation. You obviously had something to say. So say it,” Enma shrugged carelessly. He was doing his best not to breathe heavily in front of her, to not show how anxious he really was.

“I don’t own a restaurant. I’m not a fighter, I’m a dancer. I don’t know a damn thing about the mafia, not even through movies because I like musicals better. So why would someone as high ranking in the mafia world as you, if you are as influential as you say you are, be interested in me.”

Both fell quiet as they looked at each other, trying to see if they could find out what the other person was thinking. Enma looked at her and really took her in. The air was thick with the smell of gun powder, a faint iron scent from the blood, and the remaining fragrance from their dinner. What stood out the most from these scents was the lack of scent in front of him.

He can still imagine her Omegan smell in her apartment.

“Because you’re interested in all of me, much as I am in all of you. You don’t want to see the real me because the real me is a part of all of me. You want to know all of me, the real, the good, and the bad. I want to do the same."

#admin enma #enma #abo dynamics #khr scenarios

[simplyoriginalcharacters]

((Hi, thank you all for your patience and your help. Sava here is one of my newest characters and I tried to make his history as brief as possible. My inspiration for making him was that I wanted a semi-princely, Shakespearian like character in my space story. I’d like to know if everything in his story makes sense and how I can improve his character.

World: His story takes place in the fictional world that my cousin and I made, but in the Space series. It’s the year 2036.

Some facts: I don’t know how to describe Seidians other than that they are mixtures between werewolves, Horses, and a Reptiles. They have a habit that whenever they feel like something bad is going to happen, or that there’s danger coming, they abandon or ignore their children, and they let the danger follow the parent.

Sava has 3 names that he uses. The name Sava is like a papal name, he took it on before ruling, K'dbacii is what he goes by in the galaxy, and his actual name is Savianu))

Name: Emperor Sava Reid'an II

Aliases: “K'dbacii” which means “Exile” in his language or Savianu, which is a name that Koza uses only.

Gender: Transgender Male

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual.

Age: He is 278 years old which is seen as middle aged for his race.

Occupation: He is the current ruler of Ti'šchena, which is a distant planet.

Alignment: Neutral, but he kind of leans towards the good side of things.

Group/Organizational Affiliations: He is affiliated with the Amaranians, The Shershen’, and any of the A'maranian allies.

Family Iitä Koza: She was the one to raise him after he was sent away. In his opinion, she’s his mom. She raised him, she has always been there for him and she truly cares for him. He will always be grateful for her guidance and help.

Rahgna the White: Rahgna was his birth mother and in his opinion, one of the smartest leaders that has ruled the planet. He eventually learned that she had a child with Xhedes because he threatened to kill her, and Sava. Like her, he’s highly analytical and logic driven.

Sava: She was his grandmother and one of the former rulers of the Moon clan. He was the only person who could understand her after she fell victim to a sickness and she taught him how to fight. He uses her name out of respect.

Rhianu: Although he loves him to death and he would do anything to keep him safe, nobody knows that this is his son.

Viggo Hwajae: He’s in a weird spot with him. He trusts him enough to work with him and he knows that if he asks him to do something, then he can get it done, but he’s not really buddies with him. They can have a decent conversation with eachother and they do respect one another, but that’s about it.

Best Friends: He’s not a friend person, but if there was someone that he trusts with his life, it would be a priestess named Koza. She’s been there for his mother, for him, and for Rhianu as well.

Relationship Status: Divorced

Significant Other: Sreda Roks-Alakkaria: Sreda was his ex-partner and he is Rhianu’s father. He rarely speaks about him because they divorced and he moved to for some silly reason.

Other Relationships: Xhedes: Xhedes is actually his fathers half-brother. He is an older Seidian who wanted the throne. He lived his life vicariously through his son, Kyrida. He is responsible for exiling him and murdering his own sister-in-law, who was Sava and Kyrida’s mother.

Prince Kyrida: Kyrida is actually his half-brother. He is a coward, but his father feels that he is the true ruler to the throne. He hates that his cousin tarnished his families reputation like that.

Height: 8'10

Weight: 790lbs

Build: Muscular and strong. He has really nice arms.

Skin Tone: Slightly furry and Grey with darkish undertones.

Hair: Very jet black and long, but it goes white at the tips.

Eyes: In the light they are neon green with orange sclera, but at night they seem to glow a bit.

Identifying Marks: His pitch black hair with white tips, Moon clan tattoos, and he wears a lot of jewelry.

Appearance: Sava is a very handsome young man who is a Royal Seidian, so his hair grows longer than that of a normal Seidians. He’s 8'10 and about 790 pounds of muscle. He has dark grey skin that looks slightly furry and he is adorned with facial and body tattoos that represent the Moon Clan. His hair is long and super black with white tips at the end. He has quite a few scars on his body, which include two parallel ones from where chains were stuck into him, a few scratches on his back from fighting, and surgery scars. He has sharp, big, white teeth, and like many Seidians, his tongue is blackish-blue and he has curved, dark, sharp nails. Like most Seidians, his eyes glow but glow brighter in the dark. They are highlighter green and bright orange. He wears quite a few pieces of jewelry that belonged to his mother and grandmother, like their earrings, bracelets, and arm cuffs. From the waist down, he has on leather and metal armor that is really common on his planet. Like most Seidians, he’s shirtless most of the time, but he is usually seen with wearing his royal armor because he finds it intimidating. He keeps his hair down, or in a long side braid.

Personality: Due to being imprisoned for years, Sava is a cautious and suspicious person. He’s aloof and he may seem like he’s not telling the truth about anything, especially himself, but he does this so that he can keep those that he loves safe. He never really shows it unless he feels comfortable, but he can be charming, he has chivalrous tendencies, and he is a man of his word, making sure that he keeps his promises and he keeps his friends safe. He is a Seidian, which means that he’s brave, he believes in honor, and he can be very violent and savage when it comes to asserting his position or defending his honor, but he’s also compassionate and thoughtful like the Amaranians. One thing that sets him apart from many Seidians is that he’s not closed minded. He believes that working with, and respecting outsiders is important to the survival of anyone. He also shows a tremendous amount of love for his son, which is not really a Seidian characteristic.

Motivations: In his own way, he is motivated by justice. He feels that his family was wronged for no reason and he seeks to make things right.

Current Goal: Stopping Gaiatorix

Life Goal: He wants to actually have a calm life where it’s just him and his son and they are living their lives.

Motto: “Do not underestimate me”.

Best Quality: He is a thinker and he has a good moral compass. If he feels like he can trust someone, then he will work to keep his end of the bargain that they made.

Worst Quality: He does have a slight temper because he’s not good at expressing his feelings. He also has a hard time dealing with his Seidian nature and his A'maranian upbringing. Sometimes this causes him to not do anything at all.

Fears: He does have a fear that he won’t be such an effective leader as his mother or his grandmother.

Hobbies: Reading, Painting, and collecting books.

Talents: Although he’s really quiet most of the time, he’s a great speaker. He is also charming if he trusts you. He has an extremely accurate memory, and he has a knack for figuring things out quickly.

Skills: He is a trained fighter and although he’s never tried it himself, he knows a lot about piloting. Because of Koza, he is fluent in 13 intergalactic languages.

Abilities: He naturally has enhanced senses like sight, smell, and hearing. Seidians are tanks, so besides being able to see in pitch black conditions, he is extremely durable, he is extremely strong, and he’s very agile for his size. Like all Seidians, He can actually go into a type of berserk mode where everything is enhanced times 10, but he rarely goes into this form because it tires him out quickly. He is an accomplished fighter and he’s learned how to fight Seidians while they are in their berserk form.

Secret: He is actually afraid of himself. He has some really bad intrusive thoughts, and he’s always active so that he could get his mind off of things.

Influential Memory: His influenced memory would be being raised on Akrinco. He felt like it taught him a lot of things, and although he doesn’t talk about it much, he has a soft spot for that planet.

Role Model: His source of inspiration is his Grandmother. She was exiled as well, but she managed to regain her kingdom by being one of the bravest women that he has known.

Crush: That’s hard to define. He rarely talks about himself, and he does not have many crushes. If he had to have one, it would be on the Shershen’ Queen, Merrylin.

Source of Embarrassment: His biggest embarrassment is that he’s shorter than an average Seidian. They are around 9 feet tall on average, but he’s only 8'10, which is short for them.

Source of Pride: He sees his son as his source of pride. He loves that kid and he would do anything to keep him safe. He’s proud that he following his dreams and that he’s got a safe job instead of messing around with other Seidians who could potentially hurt him.

History: Sava was born to Rahgna the White, a powerful military tactician and the current ruler of Tišchena, who had disappeared for a few years. She soon returned with another child in her arms and A civil war broke out against Rahgna and her brother-in-law, Xhedes, which caused his Rahgna to send Sava away to a foreign planet at the age of 10. A woman named Iitä Koza explained that his mother wanted him to live with her on Akrinco because it was safer, but he wanted no part of that. Life on Akrinco was difficult and he was not fond of this woman because they came from two different cultures. He did have hopes that his mother would come back to get him, but soon days turned into weeks, months, and years, with no word of her ever coming back. He soon learned that Koza was reading up on Seidian culture and she started to treat him in a way that was acceptable on his planet. He was surprised and he tried to be nicer to her, seeing that she meant no harm to him at all. He started to see her as his substitute mother for the time that he was there. It had been 35 years since he had been home, but Sava was feeling more at home on Akrinco. He married an Amaranian man, but they had a nasty divorce. He gained custody of his child and Koza was more than willing to help him out with raising his baby. Within this year, he came out to her and she was accepting of him. She told him that she would be there for anything that he needed and he was glad that she understood. Sava chose to go through HRT, and he did go through top-surgery. He felt like he was in a comfortable place with who he was. He then received a letter from his mother asking him to return to Tišchena, which he eventually accepted, but he asked Koza to watch his son because he was growing strangely suspicious of his mothers request. When he arrived on his planet, he was escorted to the throne room where he saw his Uncle and a younger man. A lie was told and he saw that his Mother and Grandmother paid the price for this. His Uncle spread the rumor that Sava was there to assassinate the Emperor, which he had no intention of doing at all, but he was exiled and imprisoned for 200 years as a punishment. 200 years passed and he held onto his anger, plotting revenge against his uncle. He was soon released by someone who was calling themselves Emperor Heriotza, the Makarasan leader. He knew that this person was a fake, but he was desperate to leave. He agreed to work with her and he reluctantly helped her to conquer these lesser planets. He endured being verbally abused by the impostor because he wanted her to leave so that he could go back to Akrinco, but he eventually got so upset by her actions that he killed some of her subordinates. She got scared and returned him to Tišchena, where he killed his Uncle, proved his birthright, and took his family’s throne back, taking on the name Sava II. He eventually learned that this impostors name was Gaiatorix, and that in her anger, she raised Akrinco and she kidnapped all of the Seidians that were living there. He although he wasn’t sure what had happened over the last 200 years, had a feeling that his son would be among this group of captives, so in an effort to build an alliance with the Amaranians, he pledged that his planet would like to join forces with the other planets which included Akrinco and the Shershen’ planet of Acoa. Many people were amazed to hear of this because Tišchena never truly aligned themselves with anyone in over 400 years, and finally someone was going to do it.

Welcome back!

Sava has a strong background, and strong connections, but I did find some inconsistencies I’d like to take a closer look at. For example, he very much wants to take his birthright as a leader, but also wants to lead a quiet life raising his child. How does he feel about the inherent conflict between these two? What will he have to sacrifice? How much time will he be able to put into each?

He is also listed as being neutral, but you later state that he has a very strong moral compass. That sounds a lot closer to good than neutral. Or do you mean neutral looking at the other axis, which is between lawful and chaotic? Perhaps he is neutral on the lawful scale, and good on the moral scale? I would also like to know more about his personality as a leader. Is he a micromanager? Does he delegate too much or too little? What parts of ruling does he find most tedious? Does he enjoy being recognized? Does he like being a General instead of a Soldier once he is in charge?

I find myself confused because you mention that he acts on his Seidian nature, but never clarify what that means. They are werewolf, horse, reptile like, but those animals have a lot of very conflicting personality types, so I’m not sure what could be influencing him.

Speaking to the world overall, as you may have noticed this blog is very trans friendly, and we think it’s important to tell trans stories, but this character’s story sounds very human for lack of a better term. Since this character is an alien, why not give him a different narrative when it comes to transitioning? Maybe those aliens choose their gender when they reach maturation, or perhaps there are more than just two binary genders. Maybe HRT isn’t even necessary. There are ways to put in healthy trans narratives that aren’t bogged down by our issues. Not necessarily something you have to change, just a thought to keep in mind.

Happy Writing,

Shields   

#development help #backstory help #soc critique #general help #submission

[myheartisbro-ken]

For your greek!mythology au for supergirl do you think Alex would be daughter of Athena or Ares? Who would the other characters parents be? Winn would probably be the son of Hephaestus right? J'onn would be like the son of Hecate. What are some of your headcanons?

Okay so FIRST OF ALL!!!! That is mean. I’ve been racking my brain trying to decide which is a better fit for Alex, and you just forced me to do research (I love it, thank you).

Here we go. (Kara and Lena here)

Alex:

Whilst in a first look, Ares would be a good fit for Alex, I think that’s mostly an act. I think all that aggressiveness of hers is mostly an act that she puts on so she won’t get hurt, because if you see her with Kara and Maggie, she’s the softest softy. Also, in the books it is said that daughters of Ares are massively built ‘Ares’ daughters, in particular, have the physical bodies, skeletal structure, and muscle distribution of exceptionally large, strong, and well-conditioned human men.’ and Alex is tall but rather tiny in structure (Chyler is very skinny, I’m afraid she’s going to break like half the time I see her)

Most of the cool stuff Ares gets Athena also has. Athena is, after all, the female counterpart of Ares.

Athena’s children’s abilities include:

Enhanced strength and swiftness.

Able to adapt to using various types of weapons quicker than normal.

Never forget what they heard.

Immense expertise in war strategy.

Great control over any weapon.

Highly skilled in armed and hand-to-hand combat.

Possess high intelligence and wisdom.

Again, Athena is the goddess of:  courage, inspiration, law and justice, strategic warfare, mathematics, strength, strategy, etc.

Alex is very brave, Alex is just, Alex is a fighter and a genius, she admittedly loves the sciences, she’s very good at using various different weapons (we’ve seen so many) she’s great at hand-to-hand, she’s a good strategist, she’s in a really good rank at the DEO so that proves that she is very intelligent even if we hadn’t seen other proof.

So Alex would be a Daughter of Athena.

Winn:

Winn is also a constant struggle for me because I can see the Athena qualities in him, but let’s analyze Hephaestus.

Hephaestus was the god of fire, metalworking, stone masonry, forges and the art of sculpture. He was a kind and peace-loving god. And he made a few of the other gods’ weapons as well as armors for demigods, he also made jewelry and many other crafty stuff. Was the patron of the arts.

on the books, he is also the god of technology, craftsmen, and blacksmiths.

Hephaestus children’s abilities are:

They are expert builders.

They are mechanics.

Technokinesis: As children of Hephaestus, they can control and manipulate machines.

Can sense machines, mechanics, or metal.

Can identify machinery type and use by touch.

Can sense faults in metal ore.

Can find and sense traps in the ground.

These all fit for Winn the techy guy who likes toys and computers and other machinery and is really good at making stuff, including suits, armors, traps, gadgets and so on. Like, just everything Guardian is enough to prove this, and that is only a fraction of what we’ve seen him do. Winn is a genius with mechanics, great builder, and good at fixing stuff. He is also comical and stubborn and kind and not very into fighting, which are all traits of Hephaestus.

But he is much more than simply mechanical minded, he is a genius in other fields of expertises, admittedly good with math and sciences and languages and being a super nerd.

So Winn would be a Son of Hephaestus but I’ll go as far as saying he’d have the grace of Athena as well.

J’onn:

I’ve never thought of J’onn as being on the same level as the rest of the characters. He is Spacedad. He has his own category. 

I like the idea of J’onn being a full on immortal who directs the camp and loves all the campers as his own children. However, he coul be a demigod who gained immortality from the gods.

In that case, I don’t really think Hecate would fit him because she’s the goddess of magic, sorcery, witchcraft, crossroads, trivial knowledge, and necromancy. Those aren’t things I associate J’onn with.

I feel like Hypnos would fit him better. Although he is the God of sleep, here are some abilities of his children:

They are capable of memory retrieval.

They are capable of memory alteration.

They can induce sleep.

They can use hypnosis.

They can astral project/dream travel. (when asleep)

They can manipulate dreams.

J’onn is a telepath, on the show he can both retrieve, read and alter people’s memories, hypnosis is also a thing for a lot of telepaths and astral projection would be something I wouldn’t cross out of his powers just yet, it’s definitelly something I think he could do. He is also very calm and knowledgeable and insightful, and the son of Hypnos we see in the books, Clovis, is like that.

So J’onn would be an immortal Son of Hypnos and the director of activities of the camp.

Other characters, 

James:

James is a little tricky one. But I think he could be a Son of Apollo like Kara. 

Not only is he ridiculously good looking and athletic, but he is also very artistic, he is a skilled fighter, could be a good archer if they just gave him a bow on the show. He is a photographer, and Photography is all about light and Apollo is the god of light. Children of Apollo are skilled in physical contests and games, James is shown to be good at anything physical he likes games. Children of Apollo are natural healers and James really cares about helping people so I think that is something James would like to have do great use of.

And I’m sorry but that is literally the only God I could think for James.

So James would be a Son of Apollo.

Maggie:

For some reason, I think she’d be a daughter of Demeter, the Goddess of agriculture. I don’t have a good excuse for that, just that there are a few jokes of her being vegan and Demeter children can control plants. It’s silly, sorry.

But for real, Maggie could be a Daughter of Nike, who is the goddess of strenght and victory. I particularly like Nike.

Nike’s children’s abilities include:

They are extremely competitive.

They live for contests and never settle for second best.

They can be pretty intense and driven but they are hard workers and tough opponents.

They never turn down a challenge.

I think that fits Maggie. She is always making bets and challenging people at pool, doesn’t seem like the type to turn down a challenge or settle for second best. She’s tiny and she had that air that she’s ready to fight and challenge everyone all the time. She seems very competitive from what we’ve seen, and hard worker.

So Maggie would be a Daughter of Nike.

Vasquez:

I love her, we need more Vasquez.

Vasquez is a Daughter of Nemesis, goddess of balance, justice, and vengeance.

Children of Nemesis:

Believe that people who are full of themselves should be brought down.

Never forget an insult.

Make good allies.

For me it fits Vasquez, she’s a great ally for the Danvers’ sisters, she looks like she’d fight people for calling her the wrong name, and she cared about justice and fucking up the patriarchy. lol

Lucy:

Lucy is really smart, but she would definitely not be a Daughter of Athena. I think Lucy would be a Daughter of Aphrodite. She’s very poised, she always looks good, canonly smells great and seems to have a lot of social skills and awareness.

Cat:

My love. Cat is brilliant, Cat is elegant, Cat is witty, Cat dominant (ha, yes I rhymed). She’s really good with her words, she knows how to hold herself, she knows how to control people and boss them, she constantly insults people for their appearance and sometimes lack of wit/a brain, she always looks perfect beyond comparison, she’s sophisticated, she’s attractive, she is hinted to be strong on seduction, very influential, high social abilities and awareness.

Cat Grant is a Daughter of Aphrodite!

Like, there’s hardly room for debate on this. But she definitelly would have the grace of Athena.

And I can’t think of any other character of Supergirl, but I’m taking the liberty to add my favorite Flash characters here as well because why not, though I won’t go much into them because this is already huge, but they’re pretty much obvious

except for Barry and Wally, so here:

Hermes is the god of roads, speed, messengers, commerce, travel, thieves, merchants, athletes and mail deliverers (cuz that’s not random). Hermes was known to be quick and cunning and had the ability to freely move between the mortal and divine worlds. He is also the patron and protector of travelers, herdsmen, thieves, orators and wit, literature and poets, athletics and sports, invention and trade. In some myths Hermes is also depicted as a trickster where he would outwit the gods either for the good of humankind or for his own personal amusement and satisfaction.

Children of Hermes:

Are skilled at theft and trickery.

Have a high athletic ability.

Are persuasive.

Some or all of Hermes’s children have the ability to pick most locks with their minds.

Can sense any physical traps.

Are good at alchemy and making potions.

Are good with money.

Barry is a forensic Forensic scientist which means he is good with alchemy, he is a speedster and a good leader. He can ‘freely move between worlds’ and he is also good with inventions.

Wally likes the roads, like literally, he was into car racing, he loves speed, I’m pretty sure he is skilled at theft and lockpicking, he seems to be really into sports, he is witty and fun, totally into playing tricks on people.

So we have:

Kara Danvers, Daughter of Apollo 

With the grace of Zeus, aka she can fly

Alex Danvers, Daughter of Athena

J’onn J’onzz, immortal son of Hypnos and camp activity director

Winn Schott, jr, Son of Hephaestus

With the grace of Athena

Lena Luthor, Daughter of Athena

With the grace of Aphrodite

Cat Grant, Daughter of Aphrodite

With the grace of Athena

Lucy Lane, Daughter of Aphrodite

James Olsen, Son of Apollo

Susan Vasquez, Daughter of Nemesis

Maggie Sawyer, Daughter of Nike

Barry Allen, Son of Hermes

Iris West, Daughter Aphrodite

Wally West, Son of Hermes

Caitlyn Snow, Daughter of Athena

Cisco Ramon, Son of Hephaestus

As for Headcanons:

Athena is the only deity to claim their children at birth, but Lena was ‘adopted’ by the Luthors and Lionel died when she was young, Lillian decided to never tell Lena about her real mother. And so Lena remained oblivious to her demigod nature and parentage until she went to camp at the age of fourteen

Lena is immediately claimed by Aphrodite when she arrives at camp and it takes a few years before she finds out she’s actually a daughter of Athena, so she’s the only demigod(ess) to be claimed by more than one God and because of that, some people don’t like her.

most people feel abandoned by their godly parent so they don’t like her having too much attention from the goddesses

Children of Aphrodite don’t like her because she’s too smart and cares more about studying than caring about her looks

Children of Athena don’t like her because they think she’s too vain, but they eventually come around when she proves herself as a true daughter of Athena

When she still believed to be a daughter of Aphrodite and lived in cabin 10, she would mostly spend time with children of Athena studying and stuff

It is said on the books that Hephaestus has a crush on Athena, and also he is married to Aphrodite, so Winn totally has a huge crush on Lena, for both her claims and they are total besties. Lena is constantly sneaking into the forgery to work with Winn on their crazy inventions

Winn doesn’t have Pyrokinesis, but he has bunker 9 and managed to open it one time when his gadget exploded in his hand while he tried to fix it.

Literally everyone in the camp is in love with Kara

Everyone but the children of Aphrodite and Athena have the hugest crush on Lena because she’s just ridiculously hot

Single mother Eliza Danvers raising her two demigod daughters, Alex and Kara, by herself and taking in Winn when he is not on camp

Winn actually being led to the Danvers, by J’onn, when his mother died before any of them went/were sent to camp

Eliza is just so freaking smart that Athena took a liking of her so much so that Alex is one of the only Daughters of Athena with a human mother

Alex, Kara and Winn all arrived at camp together after some crazy spider attacks on the girls’ bedroom made Eliza decide to send them off for the summers. Kara was six, making her the youngest person to arrive at camp, Winn was seven and Alex was eight

James was the one who showed them around when they arrived and decided to take Kara and Winn under his protection because they were both so tiny. Alex was initially jealous of him because ‘they’re my siblings’, but came around when she saw how well he took care of Kara

Kara cried the first few nights at camp because she had never been away from Alex and Eliza before, but James made sure to calm her and tell her she was safe and she’d be able to spend time with Alex the next day

Kara cried when James said she had to throw part of her food in the fire for the gods

James arrived at camp with a satyr at the age of nine, he was eleven when Kara, Alex and Winn arrived

Cat was fourteen when Kara arrived, Kara all but imprinted on her and decided to follow the ‘pretty girl’ around. Cat pretended to be annoyed but she adored Kara

Cat was the counselor of Aphrodite’s cabin and passed it down to Iris

Lucy and Cat are a little bit of nemeses

As an Aphrodite tradition, Lucy was told to break James’ heart but refused and they maintain a strong lasting relationship

Alex fights everyone who dares look at Kara, she once broke a boy’s nose because he tried to kiss Kara and a boy’s arm because he checked Kara out with too much avidity… they may of may not be the same person named Mike.

The moment she set her eyes on Kara, Lena was in love

Kara and Lena became really fast friends, but neither Alex nor James were very fond of the situation. Cat and Lucy were their number one shippers

Kara and Lena danced around each other for two years before Lena kissed Kara on the last day of summer, they started officially dating the winter after that when Lena spent the holidays with the Danvers instead of going home

Even before they started dating Kara would fight anyone who tried to say anything bad about Lena. She spent three entire weeks without talking to James because he called Lena untrustworthy and wouldn’t let her be in their team for capture flag and two days without talking to Alex because she called Lena vain. Has physically fought people for things they said about Lena. Broke a guy’s arm and nose because he touched Lena’s butt and tried to kiss her, Alex had never been more proud

Alex only started liking/accepting Lena when it was revealed that she was actually a Daughter of Athena

Vasquez is always Alex’s second at capture the flag and Kara is often jealous

Maggie went to camp at the age of twelve after her parents kicked her out

Alex and Maggie started dating without even knowing. Everyone just thought they were dating and when they found out they didn’t care to correct people and decided to start dating anyways

Winn is the nerdy and annoying little brother of the group. Everyone calls Winn ‘Danvers’ and he loves it, Alex and Kara never corrected this, and have many times encouraged and used the name for him

Winn likes to tease Alex about Maggie and run to hide behind Kara before Alex can hit him

Alex and Maggie take turns scaring Winn, James and Kara are his protectors

Alex and Maggie always compete against each other, they are never on the same team for anything, they like trash-talking the other with the silliest lines. Alex calls Maggie Adidas to get her riled up, Maggie teases Alex about not having a bellybutton and calls her ‘brainy’

James and Maggie stay at camp all year around. Kara, Winn and Alex stay on school breaks (all of them). Lucy only stays on summers. Lena goes to boarding school when she’s not on camp. Cat refused to stop going to camp even after she started college, she goes back every summer. No one knows anything about Vasquez’s life, there is no pattern of when she stays on camp, she disappears for long periods of time only to show up again as if she never left.

Eliza takes in any and every demigod that shows up at her door, her children often bring home friends to spend the last week or so of summer

And I will stop now because this is too long and has taken up too much time, I’ve been writing this for at least six hours why am I like this? I got a little bit carried away, can you tell?

#answered asks #Supercorp #sanvers #(like just a little bit) #pjo au #greek mythology au #supergirl

[thankyoufinnick]

I was looking back at an old review of Mockingjay from a friend of mine who’s a trauma therapist. It was very influential on me, in that I took literally her advice to not read Mockingjay and to write an AU conclusion to the trilogy instead. I had finished Mags’ Weapon and was over 100,000 words into Mags’ War before I let myself read or watch Mockingjay or be spoiled.

I swear no one will ever believe the things I came up with myself that happened to be canonical. DAMMIT.

Anyway. I was reading this part, where she says

I was bored by the PTSD in this book. It felt very textbook, especially as everyone had the exact same symptoms. It was like "flashbacks, check; nightmares, check; jumpiness, check; loss of concentration, check; total despair, check." It wasn’t that it was wrong, it’s that neither people nor mental illnesses are cookie-cut-outs.

And of course I went, OMG, my characters have all those! Idk why, I *know* I went to a lot of trouble to decide who has what when and why. But of course I had a momentary freakout. Sigh. But it’s all good, because it gave me an excuse to think about which characters have which symptoms and why.

Jumpiness

I wrote extensively about Finnick and Annie’s jumpiness in another post. I’ll just add that Cashmere is *not* jumpy, for reasons discussed at the end of that post. Cashmere likes physical danger, she knows how to handle it. She doesn’t want to die, in fact her survival instincts are quite strong. But loud noises do not set her off.

By no coincidence, I didn’t even *write* her first Hunger Games. You just a few sentence of watching the recap with her during her Flickerman interview afterward, and it’s a bit of a blur. She had way, way more traumatic things happen to her, like, her entire life up to that point, and her entire life after her Victory Ball up until the AU divergence in Mags’ War. (She gets about six good months to enjoy her victory before Snow breaks out the forced prostitution.)

It’s also worth mentioning that Annie’s jumpiness dies down with time, especially with treatment, and Finnick’s with time, especially as exhaustion and depression start to replace hypervigilance.

Nightmares

Cashmere also does not have nightmares. She has dreams, of course, but a nightmare to her is going to be dreaming her brother’s alive, and then waking up and finding that he’s not.

Finnick originally didn’t have nightmares, then I reread a bit of canon where he has nightmares. Okay, fine, I’ll give him nightmares, but VERY FEW, and not the same kind Annie has.

Annie has nightmares about being hunted, killed, tortured, tormented, etc.

Finnick has equally violent dreams, but they aren’t *distressing*. He’s a lot more comfortable with violence than Annie. (This comes straight out of me and my partner: I have way more frequent and intense violent dreams*, but mine don’t bother me, and hers bother her a lot, like for the whole rest of the day. She also has anxiety disorders; I don’t.)

* Given the things I read, write, watch, and imagine, I wonder why, lol.

So as Finnick gets older and starts to care about people and develop a sense of responsibility, he gets a few nightmares about bad things happening to people he cares about. And when he wakes up from them, he won’t be able to go back to sleep. But he has insomnia anyway, so that’s nothing new. As he puts it, sleeping isn’t nearly as much of a problem for him as not sleeping.

Flashbacks

Annie’s the one with super strong flashbacks. She’s the one who was traumatized for a very brief period of time, and she can’t stop reliving the events. She’s the one who when the smoke alarm goes off, *knows* she’s in her kitchen but *feels* exactly like she’s in her arena, and has to go hide in the closet while she relives watching her district partner being beheaded and hiding from the Career pack until the earthquake and the flood. She always knows where she is, but it barely even matters.

Finnick, for a while after his two Hunger Games, gets fairly low-level flashbacks from triggers. Rain after the first one, because the thing that got him in his first arena was acid rain, and fog (I just realized the fog trigger line went away as part of a major delete! Note to self to work it back in somewhere else.) after his second one, because of the poison fog. Mags :( <3. But they wear off, and aside from grieving Mags, they don’t bother him *that* much.

If I ever write the sequel to Mags’ Heir, there’s one scene where a smell that reminds him of one of his patrons sets him on edge, but he doesn’t know why. And for very specific reasons: his MO was to power through and deny that he had any problem with it. Only after someone else figures out that the smell set him off, does he realize he was gritting his teeth and powering through an otherwise comfortable and enjoyable evening with family.

The only event flashbacks Cashmere gets are when she sees Katniss. Other than that, her traumas were more along the lines of “my entire abusive childhood” than “the one discrete bad thing that happened to me.” So certain interpersonal interactions trigger extremely strong emotions in her, like fear of disappointing authority figures, that make her feel like she’s five years old again, but not specific events. (She never disappointed them or got punished in any major way. She just had no security and lived her entire childhood in fear of disappointing her caretakers.)

Johanna gets a couple quick flashbacks, one when she’s telling someone about a traumatic event, and her body unconsciously adopts the same posture, and one where she feels like she’s switching back and forth between the present and the past for just a few seconds.

Loss of concentration

Finnick has zero loss of concentration. Funny, because he spends half of Mockingjay unable to concentrate. But that does not strike me as a problem he has (quite the opposite).

Oh, wait, no, it happens once in the shower. He’s definitely under stress, and it strikes him as unusual, but it’s no more than what happens to most of us non-pathologically: you’re so deep in thought that you lose track of what you did in the last 5 minutes, and you can’t remember whether you’ve washed your hair yet or not. It bothers him so much, because concentration is so critical to his success as soldier and as spy, and he’s under so much pressure. Similarly, you’ll also see him, at the very end of Mags’ Heir, lose track of what day of the week it is (like you do), and come down very hard on himself, when the truth is, this means the pressure on him has finally let up and he’s gotten used to not everything being life or death, and it was a *healthy* thing to do.

Johanna gets it only as a side effect of medication or sleep deprivation caused by chronic pain, not as a PTSD symptom in and of itself.

Annie and Cashmere both get it, for different reasons. (And here’s where I especially feel like I didn’t just go through a checklist, but their symptoms actually emerge from their personalities and experiences.)

Annie gets distracted easily because she’s constantly straining her ears for something bad to happen, someone to attack, an earthquake to strike, anything. Every little sound sets her on edge. Sometimes this means she loses her concentration.

Cashmere’s more or less fine with the prospect of physical danger. Where she zones out is when people are talking. She has to read their body language and their tone of voice and try to figure out what they want to hear so she can not disappoint them. Sometimes this comes at the expense of being able to hear *what* they’re saying. This, of course, reinforces her belief that she’s stupid and can’t handle the simplest non-scripted social situation.

Total despair

I don’t know if anyone gets *total* despair. You get depression, negative thinking, catastrophic thinking, self-flagellation, pessimism...but this universe is just not as bleak as Mockingjay. (Considering all the bad things that happen, my partner teases me about torturing my characters, and I’m always like, “No, this is my kinder, gentler AU! It’s way worse in canon!”).

Cashmere in the Quarter Quell, maybe. 

Even Finnick at his most clinically depressed may have a very warped worldview around *himself* stemming from his endless self-sacrifice (trying to avoid too many Mags’ War and Mags’ Heir spoilers here), but he retains the ability to be satisfied that he accomplished something good for other people. 

Annie right after her first Hunger Games is in pretty bad shape, but her problem is primarily anxiety, with depression secondary to it. She’s scared to death, but she’s fighting to get better because she believes it can get better.

So I actually think most of the characters’ symptoms come from an interaction of their innate personalities, their childhoods, their traumas, and their lives after the trauma, and not just “PTSD causes these symptoms.”

Johanna’s the one whose personality I have the weakest grip on. She’s also the reason this fic has taken so long to write--I have such a hard time figuring out what she thinks, feels, and does. I finally got something together that I think I can post, but I’m least confident that she makes any kind of coherent sense. Oh well.

#hunger games #rape tw #ptsd #trauma #violence #psychology #writing

[minseologs]

our scars

tw// car accident, blood and injury mentions, mild violent themes

We all carry scars, don’t we? One way or another, it’s looming somewhere. 

Even if we can’t see it. Physically, mentally, emotionally. 

Her vision was blurry. Everything was moving quite slow. Minseo couldn’t quite figure out what was happening, but all she felt was euphoric. It felt somewhat nice... She felt relaxed as someone rolls her over gently-- it suddenly was bright. Again.

The family had been on their way home from a public event: their father, grandmother, and Hyeseo sitting quietly in as they did. Their father instructs the family driver to take the shorter way home as it would avoid traffic. It was raining quite hard and the conditions weren’t the best, but it wasn’t all too bad to take a path much more condensed of homes than the highway. The last thing she had remembered was something getting brighter and brighter the more they moved, and then a bang. 

Their vehicle had collided with a speeding car in the opposite intersection, and though they had all been in the right of way, they were the one who had received great damage. Fortunately, the car only skids off the other side of the road, no tumbles or any foreign outliers to drop on them. Everyone sustained heavy injuries. The family driver tried his best to avoid colliding anywhere else that he sacrifices his own life, but was able to walk away with a concussion and a few cuts. Their grandmother, who was sitting with the children had suffered a major blow in her body, blocking Hyeseo next to her with an attempt to protect impact. The child’s leg crushed in between rubbles of the car while Jungnam and Minseo tossed with great power to the other side of the vehicle as it was their side that was hit. Their father had dislocated his shoulder, while she felt pain in her back. It wasn’t until they were at the hospital that the impact had cracked her tailbone to the point it needed surgery. 

There was so much blood... the news had spread like wild fire that one of Gwangju’s influential families had only half a chance of survival. Many questiones unanswered as what was the fate of their treasures because in their world, it was a free-for-all investment if no one takes over. 

Minseo could feel her body hunch over of what seemed like Hyeseo’s bone protruding out of her shin, blinking a few times to really check if it was that. She couldn’t even scream or move from the sight. She could hear voices and creaks near by as they were being rescued. It’s cold. When her body was flipped, she cries out in pain, and that was the only thing she had remembered, being conscious. 

She remembers the aftermath very well-- she had waken up in pure pain once again, it was unbearable for a body so small to take that much. For a while, she had received therapy and couldn’t do much. Sitting down only for short periods of time, skipping after-school activities to stay home and rest. 

Back then, Minseo had always asked herself why she survived. She was always reminded of this whenever she catches a glimpse of her operation scar on her lower back.

~ 

The scream was loud. 

She was hysterical as she trashed anything her hands can reach. A mirror falls to the ground, and before she could really end everything, a pair of hands reaches out to hold her. Two. Or maybe three. 

Her personal maids had called out and comforted her. Another night of their father using his daughters for his anger out. A fight had broken out due to the girls being able to fight back. She was weaker, as of the obvious means of fear. When things have settled down and the smell of alcohol goes away, it was her turn to release her mental frustrations. 

On herself. 

For the times she never protected herself. To the days where she couldn’t run to anyone. And for every time she never-- or wouldn’t-- asked for help.

Minseo had wept and wept in the arms of her maids, themselves supporting her by assuring and cleaning up around her room. Even if the jewels were broken and that the grandeur was torn apart, they never questioned Minseo’s way of releasing anger as it was different than her fathers. Still, the sympathy was strong as they’ve considered her as a friend, too. 

“Ms. Choi, it will be alright,” one calls out in a gentle manner. She felt light headed, her skin pale and her tears ruined the once emotionless face.

“We are here for you.” When she was finally coming to her senses, she realizes this person was pressing down her left hand. It stung as the cloth was being tinted red of her blood. The pain was finally starting to come. “It’s okay.”

She continued to cry, the hiccups coming along in between her breaths as she looks around to the damage she created in her room. Broken shards carefully being cleaned, her rage completely destroyed one side of her room. Her tears flow even more now because of the physical pain. 

“Ms. Choi I’m afraid we will have to take you the hospital... the gash is too deep.”

~ 

She felt nothing. 

The cries for help of the man in front of her did not faze her one bit. It was strange to see, as if she heard nothing. 

Her hands press the button once again, sending great electric currents to his body. Her team around looked rather uncomfortable as the man is being electrocuted to his death but she wasn’t gonna let him easy. 

“Do you know, what my father always told me?” Minseo’s voice was blunt and straightforward, it almost came out as a whisper, low and opposite of his screams. “Only satisfy your urges if they did you wrong... I never understood that because I hated hurting others...I’d never hurt anyone at all until all of you came along.” Her finger looms over the button, as he begs to stop. A soft smile on her lips as she looks at the button before handing it to one of her side help. “You haven’t hurt me directly, but you hurt my son. The trauma he’ll carry after you try to take him from me... Do you want to know how crazy I am?” 

Her head tilts, unsure of what to do next but wanted him to suffer. It was the event of the late summer as an attempted kidnapping had happened near the family home. Minseo never let anyone strike through her own child, so once she got the hold of the people responsible, one by one, she tortured them. She had always found enjoyment in that, when she thinks justice is brought through means of violence, if not with the law. 

The man had died with in the walls of the hangar, her heels clicking through the pavement home. It was awkward as always, because everyone knows that you really crossed the line when you don’t see her smile. Minseo gazes back to her hands all the way to the car, instructing them to clean up properly. 

She had faced death way too many times to be afraid of it now. Many of her scars remind her of that. She had two options: to always run away and cry, or to face it when the time happens. 

Minseo faces it when it happens, but when it’s all said and done, runs away and tears come right back to around.

#cms:story

[biofunmy]

Winfrey picks Ta-Nehisi Coates novel for her book club

Ta-Nehisi Coates’ first novel, “The Water Dancer,” has been a long and eventful journey.

Begun a decade ago, his chronicle of a slave with an extraordinary memory who joins the Underground Railroad is the result of countless drafts, a shift from multiple narrators to a single voice, some needed advice from fellow writers and hundreds of thousands of words discarded. Coates’ research ranged from reading interviews with ex-slaves and consulting a 19th-century Farmer’s Almanac — books duly pictured on his Instagram account — to his numerous and revelatory visits to former plantations.

And then came that call from Oprah Winfrey.

“I was just as surprised as anybody. I pretty much write for myself and the only people I think about are my wife and my editor,” says Coates, whose novel is her latest book club pick. “I was really happy (about the news from Winfrey). But I think the most encouraging part was that she’s a reader. It was clear from the conversation that she’s a reader. This is not a marketing ploy. There’s nothing to be cynical about.”

Winfrey announced Monday that she chose “The Water Dancer” to formally begin her new book club partnership with Apple, for which she plans a selection every other month. In October, she will interview Coates before a live audience at Apple Carnegie Library in Washington, D.C., a conversation that will air Nov. 1 on Apple TV Plus, the new streaming service. During a recent telephone interview with The Associated Press, Winfrey became tearful as she described the novel’s emotional impact, how it captured the devastation and resilience of those enslaved.

“I have not felt this way about a book since ‘Beloved,'” Winfrey said of the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel by her friend and literary idol Toni Morrison, who died in August.

The 43-year-old Coates spoke to The Associated Press during a recent afternoon at a SoHo cafe, where he drank strong iced coffee and received the occasional greeting from a friend or fellow customer. He said that he began the novel after completing his first book, the memoir “The Beautiful Struggle,” and acting on editor Chris Jackson’s suggestion that he try fiction. Jackson told the AP in a recent statement that “The Beautiful Struggle” demonstrated Coates’ “ability to dive so deeply and imaginatively into a character’s interior life and invent an idiom to tell the story that was more Joyce-ian than journalistic.” Coates, who had been reading extensively about the Civil War at the time, wanted to open readers to the “inner lives of enslaved black folks,” a “thriller” that would also dramatize the most profound questions of freedom and identity.

He worked off and on over the next few years on “The Water Dancer,” while honing a literary voice — of realism and poetry, outrage and exploration — that Morrison would liken to James Baldwin’s. As a national correspondent for The Atlantic, he wrote a highly influential and debated piece on reparations for blacks. He received a Hugo nomination for his contribution to the newly launched Black Panther comics series, “A Nation Under Our Feet.” In 2015, he published “Between the World and Me,” a letter to his son about being black in the United States that won the National Book Award, topped The New York Times best-seller list and helped confirm his status as one of the country’s leading social commentators.

“It wasn’t really that difficult,” he said of finding time for his novel. “I really liked writing ‘The Water Dancer.’ It was like I get to go play again.”

Winfrey’s original book club was started in 1996. She has since helped turn dozens of books into best-sellers, from novels by William Faulkner to a memoir by Sidney Poitier. For “The Water Dancer” and her upcoming choices, Apple has pledged that for each copy purchased through Apple Books, it will make a contribution to the American Library Association to support local libraries.

Over the past few years, Winfrey’s choices haven’t had the impact they did when she had her syndicated television program. But her announcement of “The Water Dancer” had some of the old magic: By Monday night, the novel was No. 1 on the Apple bookstore and Amazon.com best-seller lists.

Winfrey said she was wary at first of “The Water Dancer,” if only because she found Coates such a “beautiful essayist” and wondered if he could move beyond the factual world. Journalists from George Orwell to Tom Wolfe have found success as novelists, but the switch from nonfiction to fiction can frustrate the most gifted writer. Nonfiction doesn’t only require adherence to the truth, but a kind of control over the narrative that the fiction writer has to surrender, at least in part. Novelists often speak of their stories becoming so real to them that a given character might lead them in a direction they hadn’t otherwise intended. Coates felt that with the protagonist of “The Water Dancer,” Hiram Walker, who did not start out at the center of the story, or even with the name Hiram.

“I really liked his story, and I said, ‘This is it,'” Coates explained.

While working on the book, Coates showed early drafts to peers such as novelist Michael Chabon, who suggested he “paint the whole scene,” Coates recalls, tell everything from how the sunlight looks in the trees to the smell of the air. “The Water Dancer” combines the most everyday details and the freest stretches of imagination, from the supernatural quality of Hiram’s mind to his encounters with historical figures such as the abolitionist Harriet Tubman. Coates’ favorite authors include E.L. Doctorow, known for mixing real and fictional people in such historical novels as “Ragtime,” and Morrison.

“She just had this mastery of the sentence,” Coates said of the late Nobel laureate. “She had a beautiful economy of words. I don’t that mean that in the sense that she was a sparse writer; she filled every sentence with so much emotion and feeling and information — visceral information, literary information. She wrote the way poets write. I took that from her early on.”

Coates, who says he has many ideas for another novel, left The Atlantic in 2018 and has no plans to resume his journalistic career. But even while working on fiction, he was reminded of the importance of reporting and the difference between reading about a subject and absorbing it on sight, how “you have to be there in order to feel it, in a way you can’t through books.” Coates cited the importance of actually standing on plantations and Civil War battlefields, notably a trip last year to Monticello, Thomas Jefferson’s home in Charlottesville, Virginia.

“The house is beautiful, stunning, gorgeous — and it was enslaved people who built it,” he says. “There’s a tunnel under Monticello that enslaved people walked through. When I walked through that tunnel, it was like, ‘Man, I get it now.’ I could see so much. I could feel my people talking to me at that point. I could feel it. But that was after 10 years of work. I don’t know how it happens without that.”

Sahred From Source link Entertainment

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[torentialtribute]

Tottenham news: Son Heung-min kept dreaming about Champions League final defeat

Son Heung-min talks about his expectations and a recurring dream. His hope is to get another chance. His hope is that Tottenham takes it, makes the breakthrough. He thinks they deserve it. He thinks the collective believes it is strong enough to get it done.

And so he discusses that hope and the message is that they will continue. That they will go again, as parliament has, still want, still fight.

But there is also the dream. The one who not only goes forward, because he first has to go backwards.

Son Heung-min talks about his expectations and one recurring dream – the Champions League

Back to the night in June, the walk on that blue stage, the look at that trophy, the medal he gave to his mother. It was all there, a succession of thoughts, day and night, asleep or awake, repeated itself for how long.

& # 39; I could not count how often, & # 39; he tells Sportsmail. & # 39; For me, the goal was to win the Champions League, not to play the Champions League final. After the game it was really painful. Everyday I immediately left to play for the national team in a few games and that was fine, but then I started dreaming about it every day.

& # 39; It was pain. I am not a man who is happy to lose. Every day and night I would see it in my head. I remember them with the trophy, lifting, celebrating. For me, I think of that piece with the trophy.

& # 39; When they celebrated, it was, wow, so painful. They are celebrating it, we are standing there looking at the floor and looking at it – it is painful. & # 39;

Almost three months after that defeat to Liverpool, Son has just appeared on the other side. Not entirely because losing a Champions League final leaves a big scar behind, but the worst thing has turned into something more useful that way elite athletes fuel my disappointments.

For Son it took a vacation to get there. Mauricio Pochettino talks about Son who has a profile like David Beckham in South Korea, but he was in his home country, and whatever claustrophobia he would have caused, he put himself back together.

Tottenham lost the Champions League final 2- in May 0 against Liverpool in Madrid

Almost three months after that defeat against Liverpool the Spurs ahead is over

& It's not like people say – I am like at home & # 39 ;, he says. & # 39; I can do things there, go to stores, drink coffee, anything. After the end I was so happy to be home. I saw my friends and family and I didn't see football. We did things that were not football. We drove a lot, did some shopping, drank coffee, played on the computer – no football games – just tried to have fun getting better. I love soccer. I have no life without football – I love it so much.

& # 39; But during my vacation I had to get out of this situation. I had to and because I know how much pressure came when the season starts. After that I didn't want to think about anything anymore and it helped me. Now I'm fresh. & # 39;

Just as the player was rebuilt, Tottenham went through one of his own. In the summer, money was spent on new acquisitions for the first time in almost a year and a half – and yet the feeling remains that the gap with Liverpool and Manchester City has grown.

That is not a blemish at a club that has made a remarkable art of doing more with less, but there is a sense that this fascinating project has reached the decisive phase in which the silverware must come or the growth rate will flatten out and people might think about their next step.

For Son, it took a vacation to overcome defeat and focus on the new campaign

Christian Eriksen is clear already there, and it is in the great range to take it over, there will be more seeing higher platforms elsewhere.

That makes it a great season for Tottenham, and they are now going to one of those barometer races in Arsenal on

If the defeat to Newcastle was a blow, this North London derby has the bidirectional capacity to serve as a smelling salt or chloroform. 005]

Win in the Emirates, who have already drawn in Manchester City, and Tottenham make good speed; losing and grumbling about the mentality of big games, hollow use of property and other signs of the apocalypse will be a louder story.

For Son, who grew up with the club, develops from edge element to great strength with all matches scoring eight, 21, 18 and 20 goals in his four seasons, the waters are much clearer.

& # 39; I think people know how close we are, & # 39; he says. "Everyone was always surprised when things went well with Tottenham.

" Of course it is not normal that we were always so close. The players, the staff is ready, but you can't promise it, you can't. Football is changing so fast and I am not a man who wants to talk and does not do that. I want to play to win, and the players here are so hungry. Sometimes winning everything is not possible, but the players deserve it.

Mauricio Pochettino says Son has a profile like David Beckham in South Korea

& # 39; For me The Spurs players really want something. I hope we can achieve more this season than last season. This is what we dream of. Manchester City and Liverpool, no doubt they were incredible last season, but is it certain that Manchester City or Liverpool will win this competition?

& # 39; I am a realistic man, but maybe to win the competition of 20 teams. Who thought of Leicester? You never know in football. Until the end of the season you never know what will happen.

& # 39; Like last season, Liverpool was at the top when City. It will happen again. I don't want to expect anything, I just want to keep winning with my team, have more chances and we can talk at the end of the season. It is almost 10 months – that is a long race. & # 39;

Son's race is just beginning. He was suspended for the win at Aston Villa and the draw at City after his red card for pushing Jefferson Lerma from Bournemouth in last-but-one Premier League game last season.

I was a poor spectator in the first two games, he says. & # 39; I'm bad at it. I looked and it was so painful. Really bad, actually.

& # 39; I also regretted it a lot because I know it was my own mistake because I was gone, and that was what I thought when Aston Villa was left 1-0. I found that very difficult, up to 72 minutes in my seat when it became 1-1. I felt very bad about the red card. I will never say that I will change the way I play, but this was just so painful to see.

& # 39; I love being on this team and missing because it was my own fault, not at all fun. It took me two seconds on the field against Bournemouth to realize what I was going to miss and that I had to learn something from this. I hope this never happens again. & # 39;

It is a theme for Son. Learning from mistakes has been a big problem for him and has always been – stories about his strict football training are known. The striking anecdote that is told elsewhere seems to be the time when his father, a former pro in South Korea and the most influential figure in Son's career, made him as a 10-year-old four hours of keepy uppies after squabbling had with his brother

His own encouragement was particularly gentle on a Spurs community day at the Frederick Knight Sports Ground in Tottenham, where he conducted this interview.

He is known as one of the most involved football players at club events and spent more than an hour doing exercises for children and signing autographs. & # 39; You must have fun, & # 39; he said repeatedly to the children. Yet it is a bit of an understatement to note that participation is not his personal everything and everyone.

That brings him back to what happened against Liverpool. & # 39; I gave my mother the medal because she deserved it & # 39 ;, he says. & # 39; I was proud of the medal. But I want to win and the final can help us. It was painful. But we have to be stronger, learn from it and make a successful season. It made me hungry. & # 39;

In July and August, Tottenham Hotspur Foundation organizes free football coaching courses and tournaments for children aged five to 18 years in Haringey. Download the official Spurs app or go to the Passionate About Tottenham webpage for more information about what Tottenham delivers on the doorstep.

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#Tottenham news: Son Heung-min kept dreaming about Champions League final defeat"

[dawnajaynes32]

The Most Influential Designs of the Past 33 Years

Enter the HOW Promotion & Marketing Design Awards by March 12 for your chance to land a lunch date with your design idol and get your work published in 365 days of Design Inspiration, a hardcover book from HOW+PRINT, along with other great prizes!

Feast your eyes on a sampling of the work that has informed, provoked and inspired the graphic design industry since the first issue of HOW rolled off the press.

Since 1985, HOW has taught readers about design, the designers who shape visual culture, the principles and methods they adhere to, and how design impacts culture around the world. Design has become media agnostic—it can be anything—and it appears everywhere we look, whether in printed form or in a digital landscape on the web, in an app, or in augmented reality (AR) or virtual reality (VR). We know design when we see it. But knowing what makes great design, truly memorable design, is a bigger challenge. Does it need to be award winning? Does it need to have turned a profit? And what about client satisfaction? Sometimes, we don’t know those details. We’ve only seen the work, and it speaks to us, leaving an indelible memory. Great design resonates, sparking interest as soon as we see it—perhaps even making us recall it many, many years later. And in some cases, great design motivates us to become designers, and to continue the process—pleasurable or painful—that we must work through to create evocative, emotional, expressive, visual communication.

The Most Influential Designs of the Past 33 Years

1980s

Macintosh Icons 1984 A–Z

Susan Kare began her career at Apple Inc., creating screen graphics and fonts for the original Macintosh (1984)—a computer that forever changed the way designers, artists and illustrators worked. The third model in the Macintosh line—the Macintosh Plus (1986)—was a significant improvement over prior models, further advancing the way designers would work. Kare continues to release special-edition prints of Macintosh icons at kareprints.com, and designers around the world continue to recognize the icons that she created decades ago. kareprints.com

Kenneth FitzGerald on Emigre (1984–2005)

“Emigre was a transformative journal of critical thinking and making, engaging all aspects of design activity. Rudy VanderLans’ keen editorial sense identified essential issues defining design, and fostered new perspectives and writers. Texts were often set in the inventive faces of Zuzana Licko, who pioneered digital type design and distribution. Emigre’s pages were revelations of possibility, not only of form but DIY determination and innovation. Throughout, it promoted responsible action toward society and culture. Relentlessly challenging convention, it set a standard that subsequent discussion and conception rarely attempts or reaches.”

— Kenneth FitzGerald is an educator, writer and designer, and former Emigre contributor from 1996–2005. ephemeralstates.com

Photograph of assorted Emigre issues courtesy of Kenneth FitzGerald

Adam Ladd on Malcolm Grear Designers’ Presbyterian Church USA Logo (1985)

“One of the early inspirations for me in design (namely identity design) was Malcolm Grear. His portfolio is filled with marks that achieve both depth and simplicity. A strong example of this is the logo design for the Presbyterian Church. It takes a more-is-more approach with eight separate elements carrying their own meaning, but needing to work together with the others to form the whole. Somehow it’s still quite simple and functional.”

— Adam Ladd is a graphic and type designer. ladd-design.com

Designs courtesy of Malcolm Grear Designers

Rich Barrett on the Maturation of Comic Books

“In the 1980s, there were a lot of advancements due to improvements in color printing and paper quality, early experimentation in digital art and new formats—notably the graphic novel. In addition to Watchmen and the crossovers from that era, Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns changed the landscape. Comics began to look contemporary, with the type of grunge design that was happening in other media such as film, music videos and magazines (think David Carson’s Ray Gun, the music video Smells Like Teen Spirit or Nine Inch Nails’ Closer). Dave McKean’s covers for Sandman were photographic and collage-like, appealing to a whole new audience that might have previously considered comics too childish.”

— Rich Barrett is an illustrator who writes about comic books, most recently for Mental Floss. richbarrett.com

Images courtesy of DC Entertainment 

Willi Kunz’s New York–Paris Poster (1986) for Columbia University, Graduate School of Architecture

For decades, Swiss-born Willi Kunz has used type and image to create evocative and memorable designs. His New York–Paris poster is a case study in economy of means, of less is more, with black and white photographs juxtaposed over—and behind—a blue circle representing the planet earth. willikunz.com

Image courtesy of Willi Kunz

Cranbrook Academy of Art Poster Promoting the Graduate Design Program, Designed by Katherine McCoy (1989)

McCoy’s poster blends image and text into an intertwined composition, with two-dimensional typography overlapping three-dimensional elements. As a definitive piece of postmodern graphic design, it’s as enticing to look at today as it was in 1989.

Collection Cranbrook Art Museum, gift of Katherine and Michael McCoy, © Katherine McCoy

April Greiman’s The Modern Poster, The Museum of Modern Art, New York (1988)

Greiman was an early adopter of computer technology, including the Apple Macintosh, embracing digital media when others shied away from it. Greiman pioneered what would become known as the California New Wave of design and typography. She used pixels to digitally paint and draw, incorporating imaginative textures, graphics and shapes with type and image. Part of design’s past, present and future, she continues to practice design through Made in Space, where she leads a multidisciplinary consultancy.

The Modern Poster, Exhibition Poster, MoMA, New York, © 1988 April Greiman

Anne Jordan on Skolos-Wedell

“No design retrospective of the past 33 years would be complete without Nancy Skolos and Thomas Wedell. Skolos-Wedell was one of the first studios to truly embrace digital tools, combining graphic design with photography in surreal and unexpected ways. Their innovative poster designs push the boundaries of type and image, and celebrate the infinite possibilities of form-making. In addition to their groundbreaking design work, Skolos and Wedell influenced a generation of designers by teaching at the Rhode Island School of Design. They continue to share their inventive collage process and contagious enthusiasm for design with students today.”

—Anne Jordan is a graphic designer. annatype.com

Editor’s Note: Nancy Skolos is one of seven Regional Design Awards judges this year. Enter today to boost your work, get discovered and get the recognition you deserve.

Image courtesy of SKOLOS-WEDELL

1990s

Cover for Michael Crichton’s Jurassic Park (1990) by Chip Kidd, Published by Alfred A. Knopf.

As an in-house designer for Knopf—which he still is to this day—Kidd created an iconic and memorable cover for Crichton’s book, a story that was later adapted for the big screen. The T-Rex that Kidd rendered has been used as part of the movie’s logo since Steven Spielberg’s 1993 film, and it will appear again in the 2018 movie Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom. It seems that some dinosaurs—or dinosaur logos—will never die. chipkidd.com

Image courtesy of Chip Kidd

Donald Partyka on Dance Ink Magazine

“I had just graduated from art school and discovered Dance Ink. I was working for a small two-color publication, and was amazed to see what pre-Pentagram J. Abbott Miller and his studio Design/Writing/Research with Ellen Lupton were doing with two colors. It made me push the limits of publication design in my own work.”

— Donald Partyka is the creative director of Americas Quarterly and he teaches typography at the City College of New York. donaldpartyka.com

Dance Ink photograph courtesy of Donald Partyka

Ray Gun Magazine Designs by David Carson

Carson’s work for Ray Gun took place during the height of the alternative rock scene, a time when alternative graphic design began to spring up. Ray Gun was as electrifying, emotional and energetic as the music covered within its pages. The father of grunge typography continues to design—and surf—on a routine basis. davidcarsondesign.com

Ray Gun image courtesy of David Carson

Briar Levit on the Importance of Björk’s Post Album Art

“Björk’s Post (designed by Me Company, 1995) was seminal for me both in musical and graphic awakening. I was raised a solid classic/prog rock-lover, but in my teens was developing my own tastes. Here was this artist—a solo female one at that—and this album she’d made was totally of my generation! I remember kneeling in front of the stereo, staring at the cover. From the saturated pinks, purples and oranges in the photography, to the international mailer robe that wraps Björk’s body, to the feminine yet bold and energetic 3D computer-rendered typography and flora on the back of the CD—I was in awe of that album cover (still am). It’s the classic story of not even knowing I could have a career in graphic design at the time. But I do distinctly remember simply wanting to align myself with this aesthetic, whatever that meant. This was a gateway to graphic design, and it would only be another year before I figured out that I could do it myself.”

— Briar Levit is an educator, designer, and filmmaker who made the documentary Graphic Means. briarlevit.com

 Björk’s Post book and other design ephemera photographed by Briar Levit

James D. Nesbitt on James Victore’s Self-Published Racism Poster (1993)

“I met James Victore at the exact time I was about to give up on design. His work is raw, biting and, above all, truthful. It turns clichés on their heads and adds a barb so damn sharp it’ll leave a scar. His work is proof that the power is in the message, not how you kern your typography.”

— James D. Nesbitt is a graphic designer. @jamesdnesbitt

Image courtesy of James Victore

Nina Stössinger on Type for the Web

“In the early days of the web, extended reading on low-resolution screens seemed impracticable. Then came Verdana & Georgia (1996), typefaces designed specifically for screen text by Matthew Carter for Microsoft. One a wide, open humanist sans serif—Verdana—the other a sturdy transitional serif with a cursive italic—Georgia. These are screen-native fonts designed from the pixel grid up, and each feature of their design thoughtfully accommodates low resolutions, resulting in refreshing readability. Carefully hinted and widely distributed, they rightfully went on to transform and dominate typography on the web and beyond.”

— Nina Stössinger is a senior typeface designer at Frere-Jones Type. ninastoessinger.com

Microsoft’s Verdana by Matthew Carter 

Clint Schultz on House Industries, and Remembering Rich Roat (1965–2017)

“House has always had an amazing portfolio of work, and their wide range of designs and typefaces have influenced and inspired my work in film. As far as my own design career is concerned, there is not a more important foundry or design firm. On top of all their other design accolades, it turns out that they are actally really great people. Over the years, I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know Andy, Rich and many of the talented people at House. Rich had such a wealth of knowledge about the industry, and he always had a great answer or design experience to draw from. We would also talk about my film career, or Rich’s bicycling, and we definitely talked about everything House was doing. Rich always made me feel like I was part of the inner circle of House, and his knowledge, influence and sensibility will be missed.”

— Clint Schultz is a feature film graphic designer.

Flyer fonts package design courtesy of House Industries

Wally Krantz on Why the FedEx Logo Continues to Resonate

“Several times a year I’ll receive a text or email telling me a story about someone seeing the arrow for the first time. Two weeks ago, I received a text from a colleague’s friend who teaches art to fourth grade students: ‘I showed one of my classes the FedEx logo today. I can’t express how fulfilling it is to watch their minds being blown. They’re so genuine. I may not teach them art, I may not influence them to be kinder or more helpful citizens, I may not affect their life in any meaningful way, shape or form, but from now on they can never unsee that arrow.’ We found a way to engage both designers and non-designers, and that’s why the FedEx logo has stayed a part of the conversation.”

—Wally Krantz is executive creative director at Landor and was one of the designers on the Landor team that created the FedEx logo and visual identity system in 1994. @wkrantz

FedEx logo courtesy of Landor 

Paula Scher’s The Diva Is Dismissed (1994) Poster

Paula Scher’s The Diva Is Dismissed (1994) posterfor The Public Theater in New York used explosive typography and striking colors for an unorthodox design approach. The work resonates as much today as it did then, thanks to Scher’s command of composition.

Image courtesy of Paula Scher

The French Paper Company Swatch Book Poster Series (1999)

The Charles S. Anderson Design Company created the French Paper Company Swatch Book Poster Series (1999) to promote French’s paper line using a distinct graphic personality. Grainy, colorful, layered and tactile, the posters are a coveted item for collectors—and not easy to come by. Anderson’s work for French Paper Company coincided with this magazine’s debut. “HOW began publishing in 1985, the same year that I started working with my friends at the French Paper Company. It seems fitting that you selected some of our earlier French Paper promotions for the final paper issue of HOW. We’re honored to be included,” Anderson says. csadesign.com

image courtesy of Charles S. Anderson Design Company

Stefan Sagmeister’s Poster for an AIGA Detroit Lecture (1999)

Stefan Sagmeister’s poster for an AIGA Detroit lecture (1999) tried “to visualize the pain that seems to accompany most of our design projects.” His intern Martin cut the type into his skin, and according to Sagmeister, “Yes, it did hurt real bad.” sagmeisterwalsh.com

Stefan Sagmeister creative direction, Tom Schierlitz photography, image courtesy of Sagmeister & Walsh 

LIGHT/YEARS

Pentagram’s Michael Bierut and Nicole Trice created an all-typographic poster with the look and feel of a photogram for the Architectural League’s Beaux Arts Ball (1999).

Poster image courtesy of Michael Bierut

Click to the next page to see the most influential designs of the 2000s and 2010s.

The post The Most Influential Designs of the Past 33 Years appeared first on HOW Design.

The Most Influential Designs of the Past 33 Years syndicated post

[devils-gatemedia]

As enjoyable as the recent Ritchie Blackmore/Rainbow gigs were, it was obvious to all that the band suffered from a lack of time together, and that playing only a handful of gigs had its pitfalls. Massive, on the other hand, have been on the road since what seems like forever, and are purring like a finely tuned Rolls Royce engine… just don’t mention the van that is transporting them, and fellow Aussies Tequila Mockingbyrd, around the country. Since they landed on these shores last winter, it’s been a never ending cycle of gigs, before heading home to get their washing done and opening for Living Colour on a short tour of Oz. After a run through mainland Europe, getting wrapped up in the G20 riots in Hamburg, the guys are back in the UK for a mixture of festival slots and headline shows… and by Christ, they are on fire.

Tequila Mockingbyrd have undergone a pretty major line-up change recently, with Louisa Baker coming in on guitar and vocals, and bassist Jacinta Jaye becoming a fully fledged TByrd. Thankfully, none of the energy and power that made them stand out in the first place has been lost in the transition. The songs still sound as larger than life, and Baker has easily slipped into the not-inconsiderable shoes of the departed Estelle Artois, so much so, that had you been unaware of the line-up change, you would think that Baker had been a member of the band for years, rather than the months that she has. Fuelled by the powerhouse drumming of Josie O’Toole, Tequila Mockingbyrd run through a blistering set that has the audience massing round the small stage. Playing an infectious brand of power punk/rock n’ roll, Tequila Mockingbyrd have an impressive arsenal of bangers in their repertoire. ‘Never Go Home’, ‘Jagerbomb’, ‘Somebody Put Something In My Drink’, and ‘I Smell Rock ‘N’ Roll’ are all huge and have the crowd singing along. This is a band that have made a sizeable impression on UK audiences with their music and incredible work ethic. A tough act to follow, that’s for sure.

Tonight, the band with that task are Liverpool’s Black Cat Bones, the British filling in an Aussie sandwich. Going with the classic dual guitar format that works so well within a hard rock band, Black Cat Bones are ballsy and above all, well practiced. It’s easy to see that these guys put in the hours in the rehearsal room. They feed off each other throughout the set, and give off an air of confidence that is always good to see in a young band. Frontman Jonnie Hodson is not short of a quip or two, and the combined Scouse/Aussie backstage banter must make the hair curl. Thankfully, he has the voice to go with the on stage persona. The influence of Guns N’ Roses looms large over the band, and on the week of the 30th anniversary of ‘Appetite For Destruction’, it’s amazing to see just exactly how influential that album still is. ‘Seen Better Days’ is a great opener. A steady wall of noise that builds up into a monstrous groove with more than a handful of delicious guitar licks. ‘Devil You Know’ is another standout. A guitar sound that is tailor made for some head bobbing, it’s hard to resist, so it’s better to give in and just go with it. It’s the swampy sound on ‘The River’ that takes all the plaudits though, and in a sweltering venue, it’s ideal… slow and sleazy, with some cool harmonica work from Hodson. Confident enough to go for some audience participation, the band succeed in getting the crowd singing along on a track perfect for some call and response. A strong set that ended with many turning around and heading to the merch stand to spend some coin. Just don’t call them “hair metal”, okay!

A few things become apparent within the first few minutes of Massive taking to the stage. One is that the relentless touring schedule has turned the band into a well oiled (in both senses!) machine, and the second is how much tighter the band seem with the return of Ben Laguda on lead guitar. They were good last October, but this is an entirely different ball game. They seem a faster and more cohesive unit, that’s for sure. Vocalist, guitarist, and bloody good bloke, Brad Marr tells the tale of how Laguda came to rejoin the band… “We found him lying in the street one night, so we said to him if we get you some shoes and put a guitar around your neck, do you want to tour the world?”. Touring bassist Tommy Sunset (love that name!) also plays a major part in the evening’s festivities. As soon as he took to the stage, he was off it, strolling through the crowd, bass in hand, as the band played on. After a wander and geeing the crowd up, he attempts to get back on stage, trips over the monitor, and goes arse over tit. Marr is still singing, or trying to, attempting to stifle the laughter. As soon as Sunset regains vertical status, he gets a fistbump from Marr for his trouble. Sunset is pure rock n’ roll, bass slung low like it should be, and mic stand way up high, with the mic hanging down in true Lemmy style. He’s here to party, and he has joined the band best suited to this lifestyle.

It’s a fast set played at a furious pace, culled from both 2014’s ‘Full Throttle’ album and the follow up ‘Destination Somewhere’. ‘One By One’, ‘Bring Down The City’ and ‘Hollywood’ fly by in a flash. ‘Blood Money Blues’ (drummer Jarrod Medwin steals the show on this one) has the crowd pogo-ing, and the dandruff flying, ‘Ghost’ is as poignant today as it was on the debut album, and then we have the new track ‘Calm Before The Storm’. Taken from the third album, due in 2018, it’s a snarling beast of a track, with a great guitar sound that leaves you counting down the months until album number three arrives. As the set tears towards its climax, Marr calls up both Tequila Mockingbyrd and Black Cat Bones to the stage for a massive free for all. What else can it be but ‘Highway To Hell’? Drummers take turns behind the kit. Those without a guitar pick up spare drumsticks and hammer away. Marr takes a header into the crowd and gets passed over heads before landing safely and cutting back through the crowd onto the stage. Truly a “you-had-to-be-there moment”. An incredible end to an evening of which there are not enough superlatives to describe. Massive will be back next year with album number three and a subsequent tour. Not to be missed.

Review – Dave Stott

Images – Dave Jamieson

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    Review: Massive – Bannermans, Edinburgh As enjoyable as the recent Ritchie Blackmore/Rainbow gigs were, it was obvious to all that the band suffered from a lack of time together, and that playing only a handful of gigs had its pitfalls.

[historicalsp17-blog]

Interview with Heather Wetzel

MM: I noticed you attended the Visual Studies Workshop, and was wondering if you wouldn't mind talking a little about your experience there and how that colors your work today. I'm thinking I'm drawing parallels between the VSW curriculum (on their website, they talk about 'combining disciplines and techniques') and an interview of yours where you discussed your attraction towards combining the historic processes with newer digital processes. Even if that's off base, I'm still interested to know how your time there affected your skill sets and creative development, and if, or how sharply, it affects your contemporary work.

HW: I think my inclination to cross disciplines goes back into my childhood. I was fortunate enough to have very supportive parents, and I grew up taking ceramics, painting, and drawing classes at a local arts center. This interest in various mediums continued through undergrad, where I began school thinking I would be a ceramics major; I ended up majoring in metals and jewelry, while taking every printmaking class offered. I didn't take my first photo class until the spring semester of my senior year. I previously had no interest in photography, but the newly hired photography professor, Judith Taylor, introduced the class to large format cameras and early photographic processes. (Not that we did any historic photo processes in our classes, but just the introduction of these objects and knowing that photography wasn't always the film we were accustomed to at the time, and that images were made on all sorts of different materials, was enough to get me hooked.) I worked as a jeweler for a few years after graduating with my bachelors degree, and then decided to go back to school for my Master's in Art Ed and, concurrently, my Master's in Humanities. I quickly dropped the Art Ed - I just didn't connect with the program. But I was very interested in the Humanities program - loved it! - and continued to study art and the humanities while as many photo classes as I could. Once I graduated, I was employed by a non-profit arts center outside of Philadelphia. There was a ceramics, painting and drawing focus there, so I continued to explore and mix media. (I had, by this time, set up my own darkroom in my house.) I even took a hand papermaking workshop while there. It was because of this interest in cross disciplinary work that I chose to attend VSW for my MFA. (That, and it operated as a non-profit as well.) I liked that the program was very small and intimate, that it focussed on three related media - photo, books, and film - and that it was located in a place rich with photographic history. The more independent nature of the program also appealed to me, having been through one Master's program already, and having an, albeit young, studio practice, I was drawn to the opportunity to have more of a say in the direction of my studies, as compared to some other programs that are a bit more structured. I was very fortunate to be in the right place at the right time, working part time at the Eastman Museum, to be able to work with the Osterman's, as France's assistant, for the duration of my degree program. Also, being at the Eastman Museum afforded ample access to the collections and library, people, and exhibitions, which was tantamount to my interests and growth as an artist. For example, when I came to VSW, I had been attempting to make images on thing hand-made porcelain tiles I had made before leaving Philadelphia. The liquid emulsion I was experimenting with was not providing the results I desired. My boss in the museum shop suggested I speak with Grant Romer, who in turn, pointed me towards, Mark Osterman. It was he who suggested I explore wet plate, and informed me his wife was looking for an assistant, which I became and worked with her and Mark for the duration of my MFA. That is how my journey into wet plate and other historic process began. Of course, I also became interested in books and book structures while at VSW. Joan Lyons was a great influence - not only did she introduce me to books, but she had worked extensively with a variety of historic processes in the 60s and 70s. Not to mention, all the amazing artists who would come through VSW teaching workshops, like Scott McCarney and Keith Smith (who actually live in Rochester). Douglas Buebe was very influential in my interest in the book as object and sculptural form. Learning from other artists, like Judy Natal, and of course, Nathan Lyons, has also helped formed the way I think about images and object. I continued to work at Eastman Museum full time after graduating until I was offered a full time temporary teaching position at Edinboro University of PA. Here, I was afforded the opportunity to take classes at not charge other than the studio fee, so I took the wood furniture class, since I had already been delving into building structures to house images and create interactive experiences for viewers. I also took advantage of my time at the Penland Artist and Educators retreat in 2011 to work primarily in the woodshop there, continuing my interest in working with wood. In 2008, when the financial collapse occurred, my course load was reduced and I took the opportunity to apply to the University of Iowa Center for the Book after meeting Julie Leonard while we were both teaching at Penland School of Crafts that summer. She encouraged me to apply to the program, I was very interested, so I did. I was accepted and was awarded a stipend to attend. I relocated to Iowa City in January of 2009 and began a more intense study of all things book related - bookbinding, structures, printing, history, and another love, hand papermaking. Again, being in the right place at the right time, I was fortunate enough to work for and study under Timothy Barrett, gaining a very strong understanding (though not compared to him!) of both eastern and western styles of papermaking. After finishing the certificate program with 45 credits, I was awarded the Fergus Family Post MFA Fellowship in Photography here at OSU and moved to Columbus in 2011. Since being here, I have continued my exploration of melding different media and techniques in my work. In fact, I am currently beginning research and tests incorporating wet plate collodion and enameled surfaces, an old process not commonly used in the late 19th C. Of course, I continue to work with paper, book structure, photographic processes, wood - really whatever material is going to best allow me to convey my ideas. I am very much drawn to working with my hands. The sounds, textures, smells - all the senses that are engaged when working with materials is, in tandem with wanting to share something with the world, what keeps me working. I do incorporate digital media in the working process when it seems to be appropriate, and I am interested in finding more ways in which I can engage with these newer platforms in my personal work. The honest truth is, however, that I find it very difficult to spend many hours at the computer and find the work there to be personally unfulfilling thus far. I am still seeking an avenue in which I perhaps I will find a more satisfactory experience working digitally, but I very much doubt that will become my main method of working. I do feel strongly that there is some import to keeping traditional and historic processes alive and working in today's technological society, something rather wonderful about slowing down to work at a different pace, especially now, when we are becoming so accustomed to nearly instant access to information. It is, at the very least, a good reminder for me.

MM: I was interested to know what your initial exploration process is for yourself when you embark on learning a new discipline. Do you decide to work on one specific one, or do you just know you want to learn something new?

HW: Oh, this can be motivated in many different ways. Sometimes I am interested in a certain process, material, or technique and that inspires me to go about learning it, which leads to conceptual ideas that incorporate that process, material or technique. Other times, it is the other way around. I have an idea, and need to learn a new process, material or technique in order to have it come to be the way I envision it. And sometimes, it is just because I want to learn something new and whatever it is has caught my interest somehow! 

MM: Do you stumble upon them, or is it conscious? 

HW: It is definitely a mix of both. Sometimes I am inspired by a visiting artist at the University, or something I see in a museum, or a class that is offered at the Cultural Arts Center, where I also teach. Or it may be something I see or someone I meet while teaching at Penland. Or a friend may introduce me to someone or someone's work that they think I would find interesting. And sometimes it is from reading or browsing though old publications or books. Or simply playing around in my studio. 

MM: And once you decide on a new discipline, when you don't have a mentee (or get to work as an assistant) for the discipline, how do you go about that self-education? Do you have a process for that type of thing, or is it different for you every time? I guess this is in reference to your 'research and tests' comment, both on a conceptual level but also on a practical level.

HW: I would say it is different every time and depends on the circumstances and process. If it is a new photographic process, I now feel well experienced to explore and figure it out myself. I love taking workshops, so if there is one that appeals to me and is supportive of either process, technique, or will support a concept I have for a piece - and I can afford to take it, and make it work in my schedule, then I will take a workshop to get my feet wet. For example, a few summers ago, I applied for a Greater Columbus Arts Council professional development grant so that I could go take a two week, off the grid workshop with Jim Croft on old ways of book making. While I have book binding, paper making, and tool making skills, this was a wonderful opportunity to work with Jim, and deepen my understanding and appreciation of old techniques, from start to finish. I learned new skills there too, like processing and spinning flax for thread and cord. And, since being at the Cultural Art Center, I have taken advantage of a few of the classes there too. Like enameling, where I then have easy access to the materials and kilns, that wouldn't be as easy to set up at home at the moment. This way, I can continue my exploration, with the added bonus of having someone well versed in the medium there to answer any questions about the enameling side of things. Sometimes it is simply talking to people I know who have experience in whatever it is I am learning, just asking for tips and pointers. To summarize, it is really different every time, depending on circumstances, but involves a variety of approaches - self learning and experimentation, classes, and workshops. 

MM: Also I'm interested in how the different disciplines you work with speak to you - do you feel they tend to stick to conceptual themes across your work, or do they take on different applications and meanings from work to work?

HW: Different disciplines speak to me on multiple levels - the feel of the material, the tools that are used, the smell or sound of working with them, and of course, how the use of those materials supports any conceptual ideas, which certainly takes on different meanings from work to work. Here's an example of how all these pieces fit together for a specific work. In Salvage, I use recycled can lids to create camera-less ferrotypes to talk about the environment. (I believe you read the SRO interview about that work.) Since that interview, there is another component of Salvage, a grid of 3" square photo litho plates. These are a repeating series of 30 images that were digitally captured. I turned those digital images into fine half-tone screens and output the film using an imagesetter (something used in the letterpress print world to make films for photopolymer plates.) I then contact printed these on the aluminum photo litho plates.I liked the connection between the history of the medium I am using and the parallels that can be made to our farming practices. Specifically, photo litho is a process historically used to easily replicate an image many times and disseminate to the public more easily. The halftone screen references images in newspapers, something that is also used to disseminate information to large numbers of people for mass consumption. Using the same 30 images repeatedly to make up this large grid that represents big ag farming practices, where we farm one product (in this case, corn) on mass scale, and consume corn in so many ways - feed for animal feed lots, fuel, food filler, high fructose corn syrup that finds its way into everything - makes a nice connection between the history of the processes I am using and the issue at hand. These plates contrast in color and shape to the ferrotypes. First, they are made on recycled materials. Each one is unique, even when using the same botanical specimens as the image source. The materials used in making ferrotypes come from the earth - metal for the lids; asphaltum, mineral spirits, canada balsam for the japanning lacquer; collodion is made from cotton; developer is an iron developer; varnish is made from the gum of the sandarac tree, grain alcohol, and oil of lavender. Where those two contrasting shapes intermingle in the installation, the image on the ferrotypes is disappearing, indicating big ag and GMO's propensity for crowding out the indigenous flora and fauna.In another body of work, Mapping | Mending | Missing Memory, the process of making the work is supportive of the concept. Like I write in my statement:Memories are fragile, fleeting, incomplete, inaccurate. Like this broken glass, memories are held together by delicate threads while other aspects are hazy and indecipherable. Easily broken and sometimes irretrievable, memories become fragmented with time. We seek to fill in the missing pieces with fabricated information, working to keep those fragments together, to keep our memories whole. In an effort to put the pieces back together, maps must be made, so we can know how the remnants fit back together as we go about mending them and filling in the holes. Perhaps the missing pieces are there, simply inaccessible, stored in some other part of the brain with no pathways to connect and make them complete once again.

This is as much about mending memories as it is about mending broken relationships.These images are made using old family slides taken by my grandparents. Every summer, my granddaddy would put on a slide show for my sister and I after some enthusiastic nagging. All of the images depict my sister and I. We had been going through a rough patch in our relationship and and weren't on the greatest of terms. The act of smashing the glass and then tenderly mapping it out, drilling thousands of holes, making the images in each fragmented piece one at a time, painstakingly hand tinting each one, sewing it back together and knitting patches using sewing needles in place of knitting needles, was symbolic of what was going on between the two of us, and I think, something many people can relate to. I could go on and talk about Gravity, or (in)security & exchange, or Impractical Library, but I think you get the idea. I do think through the materials, process, and techniques, and how they connect to the concept of the work. 

http://www.heatherfwetzel.com

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