#and gave a very good overview of all the options and it was very nice

[neverendingford]

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[crystalelemental]

Unit Teambuilding - Drake

Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful grid.

General Overview Drake was right up there with Roxanne and Liza as one of those big name commons before the grid war.  People have waited a long time to see how he turned out, which...can I just say, baffles me?  People always dunk on the actually good defensive supports like H!Caitlin, but Drake, whose defense and special defense buffs are separate, is good?  BP Morty outperforms him in literally every way that matters.  The defensive buffs are tied together, he has a Potion, he has a high flinch rate one-bar spam move, he can Confuse when that matters.  All Drake had side from these buffs was Dragonbreath for an okay paralysis chance.  But hey, maybe the grid will save him?

Haha...hahahaha.  AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.  AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA-

It did not.

Drake’s grid is an abomination.  Much like Liza, tools are spread out so badly that you almost can’t access anything.  If you take just the MPRs, and the only critical trait of Team Sharp Entry, you are left with 11 energy.  That’s just enough to take one of Sync Cure, Sync Regen, Unbending or Stalwart, or Lithe.  You can’t even reach Quick Tempo or Hostile Environment without giving one of those three baseline necessities up.  There is no pop healing.  There is no offense buffing or speed buffing at all.  There’s honestly just nothing.  His grid is a barren wasteland of failed and inaccessible tools.

Oh, but he got EX.  Glacia didn’t.  But he did.

Drake officially bothers me.  I don’t want him to, he’s a cool old seafaring dude, but what is this?  What do I do with it?  The EX is cute, but in the same way it was cute when they gave it to Thorton.  It’s like the least important option you could have handed it to.  And this is coming from someone who loves defensive supports.

But you know why defensive supports are good?  It’s because they have healing.  They have Endure, or built-in Vigilance.  You know, staying power.  And/or, they have at least some minor offensive buffing potential, or a gimmick to play to reliably, or are at least efficient in getting total bulk up.  Drake is absolutely none of these things.  He is a man who slowly buffs one defensive stat at a time, provides one (1) buff to crit at the outset, and then...nothing.  Like, if they’d given him Mega Salamence with this update, Team Sharp Entry stocks would skyrocket, and I’d probably have to respect the base stats a bit.  But...they did not do that.  So here you go I guess.  EX Drake, with all nothing he accomplishes.

Team 1: Drake, SS Serena, Calem This is an anti-Uxie team I used pre-grid.  As you can tell, it’s good because it has SS Serena on it.  I chose Drake for the matched Dragon theme skill, and because hell, I guess the defense buffs were nice for her, since she doesn’t want for anything.  Calem can provide paralysis, while Serena’s Restrain counts as a status change for the second and third bar.  But hey, that was pre-grid!  What does Drake offer now?  Actually, this is the one and only thing I think he can do reliably.  That one point of crit matters, because now Serena only needs two turns of buffing, and can apply Restrain before first sync.  That’s it.  That is the role his grid has provided.  You know who else can do that, and also gets to have a grid that applies status at a good rate, buffs speed to cap in two turns, and also got Terrify 1?  Marley.  You’re losing to Marley, bro.  If it weren’t for that theme skill you’d be an objective downgrade.  Also you know how he’s got the EX buff?  You find me one situation in history where SS Serena isn’t taking that sync.

Team 2: Drake, Wikstrom, Nanu/Tech Farfetch’d Wikstrom is very self-sufficient as a buffer, but misses one point of crit.  While he has Sharp Entry, Drake can alleviate that pressure and give him full crit benefits in those opening turns, freeing up energy for something like Superduper Effective 3.  Or, more realistically, MGR, because Drake is hella slow, and you know who can also do this and buffs speed so gauge is never an issue?  You guessed it, it’s Marley!

Final Thoughts That is, quite literally, all I can think to do for him.  Almost everyone else I can think to utilize with him would be better served by someone else.  In the situations where I can think of a use, it’s specifically thanks to Team Sharp Entry, and the overall role is done worse than Marley.  Having absolutely no healing, on a pure defensive support, is devastating.  Having no offensive buffs at all, is devastating.  The fact that he somehow lost to Liza, despite how bad her grid was, is devastating.  Like, you got an EX as a support, this should automatically be huge, why is it so painfully difficult to get you to operate?  Usually, supports get the longest breakdowns, because I can think of a bunch of different applications or utility for them, but Drake...really doesn’t simplify anything for anyone.  This feels like an unending disaster, and I’m just so glad they gave him the EX instead of Glacia, who’s a five star gacha unit who has waited over two years to have a single thing go right in her life.  She better be getting one with the anniversary, or I’m gonna be Bothered.

[thexam-union]

Straight-To-Video Sequel

Here’s a fic about Alphecca and their Nonsense! They’re a clown and a fool but I care them so much, especially when they make things so much harder for themselves for entertainment value.

Length: 1370 Words

General Overview: Alphecca’s bored and goes on a “20 minute adventure” to keep themselves sharp. They’re bored of the base material, so they shake it up a little!

Warning(s): Arson, Being chased down, Serial Killer

( If you need anything else tagged/forewarned about let me know!! )

The air is cold, biting at you like teeth without a sense of weight to them and with an endless hunger only obtainable without a stomach. The rain is pelting at you with equal force and hatred, spattering haphazardly on your face. You blink more than usual, but this is what you have to deal with. There’s a threat on the horizon. You know what it is. It’s a man. About your height. He has a machete, and smells of blood and rotting meat. He drove you out of the only shelter for miles around, and you are running. You are running in this forest in the driving rain, careful not to slip and fall but every bit as desperate to just get out. He can smell your breath in the cold air, the warmth of your shaky heartbeat. He can move faster than you in the storm, and you know it.

Alphecca jumps into these scenarios every other day. For fun. Sometimes alone, sometimes with other people. It’s a personal favourite, but overdoing it removes any and all appeal. So they shook it up. This time, the killer can smell you. A slight retelling, diction to a recorder, but it’s worth it! It’s always worth it to shake it up a little, and dashing around in the dark in the rain with sunglasses of all things on? It was a fun experience, actually. Especially since they didn’t know how the story would end this time.

They see a sturdy-looking tree with a low-hanging branch, and start to climb. They fall off once, but pick themselves out of the mud and pull themselves up again. If they feel in actual danger, they can just leave. They don’t want to, of course, but they do remind themselves of their power in this situation. Turning on a gamemode where you can’t die when you’re actually at risk so nothing bad actually happens. But they swing up into the tree, regardless, and push up their glasses with a satisfied sigh, even with their hoodie tied around their waist despite the chill in the air and the driving rain, they’re enjoying themselves. They look at the ground below, but they know their little diversionary tactic is a very short-term solution. Of course, they’re unarmed - it’s no fun when you drop into a situation with a tailor-made fix - but these branches should be able to accomplish something. Maybe. A blunt instrument’s a blunt instrument, despite the encumbrance. The adversary’s faster and has every advantage, after all. Actually, that’s a good point.

Untying their hoodie from their waist, Alphecca tied it around a branch with a satisfied nod before continuing on their way. A meaningless distraction, but there’s better options elsewhere, and that elsewhere’s back at the lakeside cabin. So a meaningless “make the opponent scramble up a tree” means they have time. And obviously, they’re not dressed their best when going up against this scenario, so they don’t have to worry about damaging their favourite jacket. Just a hoodie that’s a bit on the small side and some easily-repaired trousers that are probably going to be caked with mud. All in all, not much problem if it was a close shave. They like things better that way.

Next course of action on this mad dash around the trees is to circle widely and then beeline for the right place. The wind may be howling, but in these make-believe fictions it’s an inconvenience that’s there for the sake of immersion and fear factor. Fear, in all its forms, can make the world go round. That much they live by. The chase wasn’t their main scene, but getting lost in the same trees over and over again? That had the perfect zest.

They were starting to lose steam a little bit into this, which is always disappointing, but ultimately expected. It’s fine, though, they knew they were going the right way, even if it was just by muscle-memory and general awareness of the area. The off-step snapping of twigs that occasionally hit the ground like a bunch of kids with a bag of bang snaps wasn’t a good sign, but what was a good omen was the lake coming into view. A supposed holiday location gone wrong, but who in their right mind would want to have a holiday here? The only reason Alphecca chose to be here was the fact there was a risk and hazard to experience, not the lakeside view. They have no interest in fishing, either, but it’s not as if the fish in the lake are anything but dead.

Alphecca slammed the door behind them and jammed a chair under the handle before taking a minute to breathe and wipe off their glasses. No, they weren’t coming off during a killer chase. They’re iconic, for one thing, and the lamps in the building were just too bright. Now, as for potential defense mechanisms, the best thing to grab is a ranged option. Wood not recommended but might have to be settled for - they didn’t take in every detail of the building even in their numerous passes, because who would? - but something they did like the look of was the rope. Bang.

Not to go full Home Alone on a nonproblem, but rope’s the gift that never stops giving, and those banisters are looking very tetherable. Especially with this thickness and length, where it’ll take a few slashes to take out a shard, and could probably be a safe exit. Killers aren’t that smart, or they’d find the sweet spot immediately. Burning the place up isn’t an option for a few reasons, but that never translates into “don’t even try”. It’s actually very cinematic to douse-- Ohoho, that’s devilish. And the new plan!

Picking up a bucket and a canister of fuel and pouring it in, Alphecca saw the door start to give with a crack. That had to be done manually, then. Fine! No problem. Just throw it at him through the ropes and maybe hit it into the lake while they burn the place? Sure. Sounds good. Sounds very dramatic, so of course it had to be the solution. No one min-maxes their killer escapes, thank you very much.

The door gave way and the chair did too in the same moment, splinters going everywhere as the man started clanking up the stairs at a pretty steady rate. At least, until the gas was thrown at him, along with a lantern that started the fire. Bingo. Next up, window! One end of the rope thrown over the edge, and shimmy down it ju-

Or not! That hurt, actually. Hopefully nothing was broken in the fall, they could still stand, but they’d probably be limping for a bit. Not good. At least the screaming from the local inferno wasn’t coming in their direction. They’d call that a win, actually. Nice!

Alphecca reached into their handbag, pulling out their recorder and hitting the stop button, and the familiar smells of popcorn and pure sugar were in the air more than blood and rain and burnt wood. Their hoodie lied at their side, undamaged, but equally damp and in the same tied position as they’d left it on the branch on.

Their leg still really hurt, but nothing that sitting in the projection room with it up couldn’t fix. They’d been through worse! Besides, that was an escape if ever there was one! Put that in the history books. They coped so much better than that clumsy bint that didn’t know what an arson was.

Alphecca stood up with a self-satisfied smile, popping the tape out of the player and heading into the employees only room to pick up their ‘bag of tricks’ - bag of tapes was more accurate, but magicians never reveal their secrets - and to continue their day. Probably spend some time elsewhere to dry off, they were chilled to the bone, but that implied that the local beach was anything but overcast on a given day. The jungle was warm, sure but forests after that, uh… no! Best chances were probably over in the District, given that rain was pretty rare. That meant they could see the friends over there, too!

[pretoriafics]

Ten Nights With… Derek Hale - The Second Night

Remember: My requests are open. Remember²: English is not my main language, so I’m sorry if my writing maybe sounds bad for you.  

Let’s get started?

Word count: 2.792 Contain: Hunter!Reader, arguing, a little bit of shame Warnings: Inappropriate language +16 only Inspired by the music 3 nights, by Dominic Fike Versão em português aqui FIRST NIGHT | THIRD NIGHT COMING SOON

The storm ended up lasting all night, and both of you were forced to sleep in the car. When morning came, Derek searched on Google Maps - a little hurriedly, as his cell phone battery was running low - a motel or anywhere else so you could spend the nights to come. You had wasted gas when, unsuccessfully, you tried to return to Beacon Hills. That meant that you couldn't afford to go to a distant motel, which significantly reduced your choice of accommodation options, in addition to posing yet another problem to be solved. The closest stay was the Beverly Sunset Inn, a small and comfortable hotel with a small pool and views of the mountains. Both of you drew up a plan and finally agreed on something: You would stay at the hotel, and he would get gas from the nearest gas station as soon as possible. You were still wearing his shirt, with your jeans that were now dry, when you and Derek entered the hotel reception with masks on your faces, covering your noses and mouths. Your hair was a mess, completely tangled from the rain from the night before. The Lumen was in a backpack on your back, and you had started to think of a way to hide the book. After all, you had no idea who was staying at that hotel. The concierge's eyes went from the computer screen to both of you in a second, with his eyebrows raised in an expression that you recognized as slightly startled. What was a shirtless man and a completely disheveled woman doing there? Should he call the police? Derek was the first to speak. "Good morning," He looked at the name of the concierge on the nameplate. “Adam. My ex-wife and I need a room with two beds. ” Oh, was he trying to test your patience by calling you "ex-wife"? Without much choice, you forced a smile to the concierge, who continued to stare at you both. It was your turn to speak. “We had to spend the night on the road, because of the barrier. The storm prevents us from driving, so ... ”You indicated yourself, exposing the complete chaos your appearance was in, giving the employee an overview of the situation. His expression lit up, all suspicion falling to the ground. “Oh! The barrier! Yeah, it took by surprise a lot of people. We have several other guests who also had problems with it… ”Adam let out a light, friendly laugh as he was looking for a room on the computer. You returned the laugh to him. “Well, guys… I'm sorry, but we don't have a room with two beds. In fact, we only have the master suite available. ” Your expression faded instantly, becoming a serious one. Derek remained impassive. How did he do it? Before he could say anything, you addressed the concierge. “Ah, what a pity. Alright then, thank you very much! ” You turned your back to leave when Hale took your wrist, stopping you. You looked at him indignantly. "We have no choice." He said, seriously. "Gasoline is running out, the less we spend, the better." “Had you heard what the concierge said, didn't you? He has no room available. We can go to the nearest gas station and look for another hotel. ” The concierge looked from Derek to you as if he were watching a tennis match. "It's risky, we can run out of gas in the middle of the road." “We don't even know how close the nearest gas station is, Derek! You have a cell phone with Google Maps, just look at the distance! For God's sake, I don't want to have to sleep with you. ” Hale crossed his arms, his eyes narrowed that clearly mocked you. "You didn't complain about that in the car." Your mouth opened in pure outrage, your face starting to heat up. Now, that had been an isolated incident! You were wet and cold, and the options were scarce. He couldn't use that against you, could he? You had barely arrived, and you were already irritated by the thought of having to sleep in the same bed as a damn werewolf. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to reason. Okay, maybe he was right. And, God, you hated it when he was right. All you could do, at that moment, was to hope that not only did you not have a hunter there, but that they never found out that you spent the night with a werewolf - something you should be hunting. Your reputation in the hunting world was important. Seeing your silence, Hale just turned back to the concierge. "Let's keep this room." Adam blinked consecutively at the whole situation. He nodded and then started asking for Hale's data. You just handed your SSN to Derek and walked away from him, mad at the Alpha. But then, you realized that you were being watched by a woman. She wore a white mask, and the elevation of her cheekbones indicated that she was smiling at you. Just for politeness, you gave her a brief nod. And she approached. Oh, shit. “Did you come here with your husband for Mary's group therapy for couples? Oh, how great to meet another couple willing to improve the relationship! ” Your eyes widened, and your face turned red again. Before you could say anything to the woman, Adam the Concierge said it out loud. “Okay, Mr. Hale, your suite's number is 357. Your service includes a bottle of wine on the house and a few body oils for massages… Uhn… Well, maybe you don't use it, but, you know, it's my job to inform you about these things. ” "Are you hosted in the 357 suite?" The woman looked at you, delighted and excited “It's the most romantic room. It has an incredible view, I'm sure you will leave that suite with the chosen name of your babies! Oh, do you have children?” You froze. Derek was looking at you from a distance, and you were pretty sure he was even having a little fun with your situation. "Ah, n-no, we ..." A throat clearing can be heard: It was Derek. Finally. "Can we go now?" He indicated the stairs leading to the bedrooms. Disconcerted by the woman's sudden appearance and what she was saying, you just nodded at him and looked at the woman again. "Uh, what's your name?" "Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart!" She let out a soft laugh, "My name is Lorraine." "Oh ok. I am (Y/N). Well, Lorraine, I have to go. I really need to relax and take a shower.” “Sure, sure. It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Hale! ” You let out a nervous laugh as you strode towards the stairs. Derek was right beside you, with the keys to the suite. He gave you a weak laugh, clearly amused by your situation. "Did you see? You have already made a friendship. ” “Hale, If you like to live, you better shut up. And where did you get this ex story? ” Your look was one of pure indignation. “What's wrong with, I don't know, I being your cousin, or something? I might as well be your adopted sister. ” “The concierge was thinking something else about the situation. I had to think fast, I didn't want him to call the police. And you're wearing my shirt.” You swallowed hard. It was unbelievable how Derek take away your ability to reason. Defeated, you let out a long sigh as he opened the door to the 357's Suite. The Beverly Sunset Inn was not a luxury hotel. You could classify it in the average standard - that is, it was not a luxury hotel, but it was also not the one in which you would think that Coronavirus itself originated on one of the facility's rotten mattresses. It was comfortable, but there were better ones out there. The 357's suite had led lights on the roof, and a spacious white canopy bed with a veil of the same color. In front of it, a long gas fireplace. The room had no windows, just a large glass door that gave access to the balcony. And Lorraine was right: The room had a stunning view of the mountains and the blue sky, and you blushed. That room would have been perfect if you had gone with someone special, not Derek fucking Hale. In fact, the Alpha seemed quite at ease. Damned self-confidence! He entered the room, throwing the car keys and his mask on the nightstand. You closed the door behind you, left your mask on the armchair next to the fireplace, and placed the backpack on the floor. Then, you took the Lumen out of there and your pocket knife from your boots. Derek's voice was soon present from the balcony door. "Where are you going to hide the Lumen?" "In a place that I don't think someone will find." You walked to the bathroom and took out the black bag that was stuck in the trash. You wrapped the Lumen in it, as a way to isolate all the material that was toxic to Derek, and then, you took your pocket knife. You threw the blankets and the mattress sheet up a little and made a tear in the seam. It was invisible to anyone who came in to turn the room over. There, you stuck the book in and arranged the tear to make it invisible. "Done. Even if someone throws the mattress through the bedroom, they will never find the book.” You said, getting up and tidying up the little mess you made in bed. Derek had his arms crossed. "I hope it works." "Me too. Well ... I'm going to take a shower. I need it.”

* * *

You lost a few minutes in the bathtub in the suite bathroom, and the water seemed to take all the stress out of your body. Derek, on the other hand, discovered a small clothing boutique at the hotel and tried to buy some clothes for you. Surprisingly, he was right about your sizes. In fact, he watched - secretly, after all, you are a hunter - your body, so it was not difficult for him to assume which size you used. When it was his turn to go to the shower, you decided to go out and explore the hotel. Fortunately, you had not met any hunters known to you. On the other hand, you found out that the hotel was with a significant number of people who had gone for group therapy for couples. According to the poster, the therapist would do a series of activities that included games and diverse dynamics as a way to promote harmony between couples. During your tour, you tried your best to escape from Lorraine. To be called “Mrs. Hale ”made you freeze. And then, as soon as you returned to the bedroom, you and Derek were enveloped in the evil that plagued everyone in social distancing: Boredom. The night came. The sky was clear and starry, and the moonlight with the dim light from the fireplace gave the room the sensual vibe that you definitely didn't want. So you chose to just keep the lights on. In a way to try to avoid that unbearable boredom, you and Derek ended up asking for that bottle of wine that Adam mentioned. You were sitting on the bed, a glass of wine in one hand. Hale, on the other hand, was sitting on the floor with his back against the bed. "At least the wine is good." You said as you looked at the glass, trying to see something good during all that chaos. “It's not my type of drink, but I think it will fix for awhile. It is not bad." You raised your eyebrows. "You look like the kind of guy who drinks Jack Daniels." He gave a short laugh. "And you look like the type of woman who drinks martinis." You smiled and shook your head, amused. And then, a silence hung in the air. It was not an odd silence, but a comfortable one. Your eyes then went to Hale analytically: His broad shoulders were relaxed. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, and you were still analyzing him. His chest slowly rose and fell, and the empty glass of wine moved slowly from side to side while Hale played with it almost unconsciously - which made you watch his hands. What had they already done? How much blood was there? How many women had already touched? As stupid as you might find that question that popped into your brain, you knew it was just a reflection of that little attraction you felt. And, damn, you had tried so desperately to hide those feelings under the carpet until it was gone! However, it eventually came back. The proof of that was you, who was simply analyzing his body language, had started to admiring every inch of his body suddenly. What was it like to be held by those hands? Dip your face in that neck and be surrounded by those arms? And what was it like to kiss those lips? They looked so soft ... "Do you want to make a painting?" His eyes opened and looked at you, his eyebrows arched, and his body was turned towards you. You rolled your eyes at his words, blushing for the thousandth time that day. "Fuck you, Derek." So, you looked at him. “It's just that I've never seen you so at peace. How did you become a ...? ” "It is from birth." He replied, understanding your question before you even finished it. Derek took the bottle of wine beside him on the floor and filled the glass with it a little more. You held your glass out to him in a silent request, and he filled it too. "How about you?" Hale put the bottle down next to him as soon as he filled your glass, and looked at you "How long have you been in this hunting world?" "Since I was sixteen." You drank the wine from the glass before continuing “I ran into a case in my high school. I investigated, went after, and solved it. Since then, I got a passion for hunting. I like the adrenaline, the adventure... It makes me feel alive. That's why I hunt. I never lost anyone to the things I hunt. ” Hale cracked his jaw. Suddenly, it looked like he had been bothered by something. You didn't catch it right until he let out a short, humorless laugh and opened his mouth to speak. “So you think I am a thing? Because I am definitely what you hunt. ” He was right: You hunt werewolves too, but it wasn't what you wanted to go through. His words had been like sharp blades, and you pressed your lips together in guilt. "I did not mean to say that you're a thing." “Hunters are incredibly similar. They think they're fucking heroes. ” Derek turned the wine glass over, drinking what was left. Then he got up with the bottle of wine. He put it in the fridge and left the glass on the nightstand. “I don't think I'm a hero, Derek. Stop with this drama." Okay, whatever. It will not change my life at all. I'm going to sleep." And there they were again, the cutting and hurtful words. You didn't even see them coming this time, being stunned. You didn't want to admit it, but you could feel your chest getting crushed. Hale lay beside you, his back to you, in silence. Shit. You imitated his gesture, turning the glass over in your mouth and finishing the wine it contained. You left the glass on your nightstand and turned off the lights, lying on the bed, your back to him. Your eyes stared at the bedroom wall, thinking about what had happened. The truth was that Derek, gradually, started to get used to and become attached to your presence - even if he didn't admit it out loud. That was why he was upset by your words: He didn't expect you to match to that secret attachment because you were a hunter. However, hearing what sounds like a confirmation about it from you had hurt him. You wanted to fix things. With your heart in pieces, you lost yourself in thoughts through the dawn, thinking about how to fix that situation. Derek was also unable to sleep properly. Having your scent so close was disconcerting. And that was your second night.

[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight - Chapter 7: Resignation

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~4200

Rating: R (language only)

Summary: Thirty hours since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: What day of the week is it even? Oh well, here’s a chapter, hahaha. This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

“My fellow Cordonians, it is with a heavy heart that I speak to you today.”

His words echoed in his mind, over and over again, his speech something that was likely to stay burned into his mind for the rest of his life. After all, he couldn’t predict anything quite as memorable as having to announce his loss of title to his citizens and the world at large happening to him at any point in the future.

“I never anticipated having to bring this news to you, but even though I am no longer King of Cordonia, I have no intention of yielding the power of the crown to anyone who I feel is a threat to the safety and prosperity of this country.”

Stefan was following the media coverage of his speech that he gave this evening that provided an overview of the day’s events, including his removal from the throne, Bridget’s ascension to queen-regent until the Conclave, and his intention to name a regent for her tomorrow. Liam knew he personally should be watching to see how people were responding, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. His emotions were frayed, raw, and strung out. It felt like everything was spiraling out of control. He hadn’t felt like this in a very long time. Not since Father died, in all honesty.

The weeks surrounding his father’s death were sort of covered in a surreal blur whenever he reflected back on them. Not only had his relationship with Father been more complicated and fraught than it had ever been before at the time of his passing, making his loss a thorny storm of emotions, but he’d barely even had time to mourn in any capacity. His country had been in the midst of an active terrorist threat, plus he’d been processing true heartbreak for the first time in his life. He had somehow gotten through those days, those emotions, those struggles though. He knew he would get through everything happening now as well, but at the moment, that seemed like an impossible task.

“I know that this is an unprecedented combination of events, comparable to nothing that has occurred in hundreds of years of Cordonian history. But I have seen the strength and resilience of our citizens first-hand, and I am confident that we will emerge from this Social Season stronger than ever.”

As far as next steps went, naming Rashad as Bridget’s regent was really his only option. Thankfully, in spite of the man’s ambivalence when it came to his noble title, he’d agreed to fill the role and was coming to the hearing in the morning to allow for a rapid transfer of power. He was one of the only truly neutral parties available who was appropriately titled and qualified. Liam had brought Hana with him to broach the topic with Rashad, but her gentle powers of persuasion proved unnecessary. The only point at which the conversation was anything but pleasant and agreeable was when Rashad wanted to schedule a meeting with Riley and Drake to discuss how best to handle legal and physical custody of Bridget in ways that would be in accordance with the results of the no-confidence vote, but Liam had been easily able to convince him to table that topic until he was sworn in as regent.

“No matter my title or role, know that I will always serve the citizens of Cordonia in whatever way they require.”

He half-heartedly pulled more documents from his desk drawers, trying to focus on the task at hand. He needed to determine which pieces of information were private, and should come with him to Lythikos, versus those that he needed to leave behind as essential information to allow Cordonia’s next leader to govern. In all honesty, he probably should be creating a sort of quick-guide, a makeshift introductory pamphlet with the most important pieces of information required to lead the country to ease the transition of power. However, another part of him felt like that would be a mistake. Maybe he should allow things to be rough initially, giving the people a chance to miss his leadership. It’s not like Rashad was completely incompetent, so it shouldn’t cause a dangerous power vacuum if he just left Rashad without any formal instructions. And, after all, didn’t a no-confidence vote indicate he shouldn’t be attempting to wield any power at the moment? If this was the wish of the majority of the major houses, maybe he should just let their little scheme play out and backfire on them in spectacular fashion. But was it fair to subject the common citizens to engage in such a game of political chicken?

A wave of loneliness and isolation washed over him as he weighed his options. This dilemma was just one of many he was facing at the moment that he wished he could discuss with Drake. Over the years, Drake had, more often than not, served as his sounding board, devil’s advocate, and unofficial advisor. The countless instances they’d sat in this office at the end of the day, sipping whiskey while Liam solidified his stances and bounced ideas off of Drake had helped him prepare to face political opponents, foreign negotiators, and skeptical members of the press time and time over. Now, he had to make decisions on his own, without his most trusted friend and ally.

For perhaps the tenth time that evening, he pulled the slip of paper Hana had given him out of his pocket and stared at Drake and Riley’s phone numbers. He could call Drake to talk, he supposed. But he was struggling to work up the courage to do so. He couldn’t just pretend nothing had changed and ask Drake to listen as he worked through his thought process. Drake had different priorities now. That much was wildly apparent.

There was also the small matter of the fact that Liam knew he would need to hide some of his thoughts and feelings from Drake at the moment. He’d done it before, back during Drake and Riley’s engagement, but part of doing so involved keeping his distance from Drake at that time. Drake just knew him better than anyone and could more easily read through his diplomatic mask. It was really only in the past six months or so that it seemed things had fully returned to normal, Drake’s marriage to Riley no longer a point of awkwardness between them. Now, for Drake to flee in the middle of a coup, it felt like the foundation of their friendship was being torn apart yet again.

A few sharp taps on the door interrupted his thoughts. A second later, the door swung open, revealing Olivia with a bottle of wine in her hand.

“I thought you might want some company,” she said as she strode across the room, grabbing two wine glasses off the bar cart before flouncing into the seat across from him. “I won’t even make you switch seats with me, even though the monarch’s desk should technically be mine tonight.”

Liam forced a smile as she sat down and moved to uncork the wine, noticing the vintage of the bottle for the first time.

“Olivia, that bottle is worth over ten thousand Euros.”

She grinned at him as she poured them both a glass. “Exactly. This fine wine was procured by a member of the Rys family, and therefore if anyone deserves to drink it, it’s you.” With that she handed Liam a glass and picked up her own. Liam could only shake his head lightly before tapping his glass against hers gently.

“To the end of Rys rule in Cordonia,” he said with a little shrug before taking a sip. He saw Olivia raise her eyebrows over her own glass.

“Liam…” she started as she set down her glass on the desk.

“It’s nothing, just a bad joke,” Liam lied, waving his hand through the air. “Would you mind terribly if I asked you which documents you think are the most important ones to leave for Rashad?” he asked as he placed a stack of paperwork on the desk between them, trying to divert the conversation.

His question was met with silence, so Liam glanced up from the documents. Olivia was staring at him intently, and she took another sip of her wine before she responded.

“I can certainly help with that, but Liam… are you… shit, I don’t know what to say. This fucking sucks, doesn’t it?”

He let out a little snort at that. “Indeed, it does.”

“I can’t believe those assholes are trying to pull this bullshit. Like fucking Barthelemy would make a better king than you. You’ve given up everything for this country.”

“It feels that way sometimes. I was happy to do so for so long, too. I always knew that leading Cordonia was an honor, and after my brother’s abdication, I never resented needing to prove to my people that I would be a worthy king. But now…” he trailed off, unable to vocalize the rest of that thought. After everything he’d done to be a good king, a better king than his paranoid, ruthless father ever was, and this was how the universe chose to repay him.

The tense silence hung in the office for a few moments before Olivia spoke again. “Speaking of your brother, I hope you don’t mind, but I gave Leo a call and told him what was happening. I figured this isn’t the sort of thing he should hear about on the news. I think he’s flying back. He seemed pretty upset over the whole thing.”

Liam just hummed at that. He loved his brother, but he wasn’t sure if the man who willingly chose to shed his title of Crown Prince would be able to sympathize with his personal pain of having his title stripped from him. Maybe he could help provide some nice distractions, though. Leo was always good for that.

“Thank you,” Liam finally said with a nod, “I planned to call him tomorrow.”

“No problem. I just figured you and Drake might have… a lot to discuss.”

Liam gave a weak smile and shook his head. “I actually haven’t spoken to him yet.”

Olivia narrowed her eyes and tilted her head slightly at his comment. “Well, that needs to be addressed.”

He frowned, taking another sip of the admittedly very excellent wine before he responded. “Quite frankly, Liv, I don’t know that I want to discuss my reasons for not calling him with you. At least not tonight.”

“Tough shit. You have no reason not to call him anymore. And seeing as he’s been your… confidante,” she said, clearly taking a moment to decide how to describe their relationship, “for decades, it strikes me as pretty concerning that you didn’t rush to call him at the first chance you got.”

Liam sighed heavily. He didn’t really want to get into this all, but she was clearly not going to let him brush this off. “I don’t know what to say to him. He left, and I just…” Liam trailed off, unable to fully vocalize the pain he felt in regards to Drake’s actions.

Olivia pursed her lips for just a moment, her bright red nails tapping rapidly against the stem of her wine glass. “I can’t figure out if you are attempting to punish him or protect him here.”

Her response caught him off guard. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you clearly are all sorts of angry and frustrated with him at the moment. I just can’t tell if you think that’s justified, and this is some sort of passive aggressive punishment, or if you realize you aren’t being fair, and you don’t want to make him feel any guiltier.”

“Are you saying that my irritation with him isn’t justified?”

“Irritation would be fine. But I don’t believe for one second that you would avoid talking to Drake if you were merely irritated with him.”

Liam was expecting some sort of sly comment about how surely talking to Drake was always irritating, but it didn’t come. Instead, Olivia continued on, serious and solemn.

“You must be insanely upset with him if you haven’t given him a call, and I’m going to be honest, that scares me. I’m backing you at the Conclave, Liam, and I intend to throw the Nevrakis name behind a winner. So that means you need to be emotionally ready for this fight over the next couple of months. I can’t have you caught up in some petty bullshit with Drake fucking Walker.”

Her statement was a surprising one. “I would have thought you would have been the one person who might understand my rather complicated point of view on this subject.”

She shook her head. “Drake and I may not see eye to eye on… a lot of things, actually, but I still think you are being absurd here.”

“This critique strikes me as slightly hypocritical, as I am having a hard time picturing you not being at least fairly angry with the mess they have created here. A mess that could have been avoided if they’d stuck to your plan, I might add.”

“Of course I’m angry with them! They put almost zero thought into this, and I’ve been scrambling for more than a day straight to try and prevent this all from spiraling into total disaster. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand why they did it. This was all in service of keeping their family together, Liam. You have to know that.”

He did understand that intellectually, but somehow her assessment just didn’t sit right with him. “Yes, Olivia. I can comprehend that their motivations are the safety and security of their daughter, but what I cannot bring myself to do is approve of their decision to commit treason and abandon the citizens of Valtoria they took an oath to serve.”

Olivia took a long sip of her wine before she replied, “Do you want me to pretend that I believe your last statement there, or do you want someone besides Drake to call you on your bullshit? I can do either, you just need to tell me what you want.”

“Of course I want you to be honest with me, Olivia,” he said, completely baffled by her assertion.

She just raised her eyebrows and stared at him, giving him one last chance to ask her to lie, apparently. All he could do was raise his eyebrows right back and take a drink from his own glass, almost daring her to do her worst.

“You aren’t pissed that they are shitty nobles who just abandoned their posts without a second thought. You are pissed that Drake isn’t here to serve as your emotional support.”

Liam opened his mouth to retort, but Olivia shook her head and just kept going.

“It’s understandable, really. He’s been the one you could always turn to, and now it feels like you can’t rely on him at a time when you really fucking need that kind of support. But you need to at least recognize that personal pain as the source of your anger here and not hide behind indignation over the way Drake and Riley fulfill their roles as duke and duchess.

“Those two have always been shitty members of the nobility, and you have never had an issue with it up until this point. In fact, you seemed to tacitly approve of their antics as you granted them power that other dukes and duchesses could only dream of.”

Liam frowned, the blood pounding in his ears as he tried not to let Olivia’s words anger him. “What do you mean?” he breathed out, focusing on not letting this situation escalate. A defensive Olivia was the last thing he was mentally and emotionally equipped to handle tonight.

“Liam, you essentially handed them the reins when it came to the Auvernal negotiations.”

“Those negotiations all centered around their child. It felt wrong to not grant them a certain amount of control given the circumstances.”

She tilted her head back and forth for just a moment. “Sure, I get that. And I’m really not trying to make you defend your decisions here regarding that whole mess. But you have to admit that Drake and Riley have kind of always just done whatever the hell they wanted, and until today, you never had anything to say about it.”

Her assessment echoed through the room as Liam leaned back in his chair, taking another sip of wine. He didn’t want to think he was being solely motivated by his emotions here. He’d worked for years and years, since he was a young boy, to ensure that he kept any feelings in check, guarded and secured for private moments. But Olivia did have a point - Drake and Riley bucking tradition and proper conduct for members of the nobility had never really bothered him before. 

“Liam, I’m not trying to kick you while you’re already hurting. It’s probably natural to feel hurt by Drake’s decision here. I just think you will be able to move past this a little easier if you are honest about why his actions bother you.”

Liam glanced across the desk, meeting Olivia’s gaze. “I sometimes just…” but he couldn’t complete his thought. To vocalize that he just wanted the most important person in his life to care about him on a personal level above all others would be immature and selfish. Drake had a wife and child to think about. Of course they warranted more of his consideration than Liam did. But it was just one more thing he lost in the past day or so, that one person around whom he didn’t need to censor himself, the only individual who gave him honesty without question of motive.

Olivia reached across the desk and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Like I said, being upset is pretty natural here. If it makes you feel any better, I wanted to reach through my phone and stab them both in the gut when Drake told me they had no intention of returning, even if it meant treason charges.”

Liam let out a little chuckle. “How are you so… calm about this now?” Using that word to describe Olivia in any situation felt out of character, but there was literally no other way to describe her at the moment. She looked at ease, sipping thousands of Euros of wine like it was nothing.

“I’m not sure if ‘calm’ is the right word; it’s more like I’m… resigned, I guess. They are both stubborn as hell, and they made this choice because they thought it was best for their kid. Even I can’t fight that.”

“I just wish they would have gone to Lythikos. Then we could be fighting this from all angles together.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe? That was your whole plan, and it still seems better thought out than their fugitive act.”

“From our perspective, sure. But we are worried about Cordonia as a whole. They are just worried about keeping their daughter. And given that Rashad already brought up wanting to meet with them to discuss custody, it seems like they were at least a little bit justified in their concerns.”

Liam frowned. Hana must have filled in Olivia of the details of their conversation with Rashad. Liam had gotten the impression that Rashad wanted to find a way to keep Drake and Riley as active participants in Bridget’s life based on the way he requested that meeting, not tear them apart from their child. “Do you really think Rashad has any interest in keeping them from their daughter?”

“No, not exactly. But I also think that coming to live at the palace as Bridget’s nannies or guardians or whatever Rashad plans to throw out there as a way to obey the letter of the law when it comes to the no-confidence vote is a far cry from being recognized as her parents fully. At the end of the day, I just think they aren’t willing to compromise on any aspect when it comes to being a family.” Olivia pursed her lips and glanced into her lap before she continued, “It kind of makes me wish my own parents would have felt that way.”

Her confession was so vulnerable, so honest, it nearly took his breath away. When they were younger, Olivia had sometimes talked about her fears, her pain, her neglect, and Liam had always been willing to lend an ear and supportive shoulder for her to lean on. But as the years marched on, those conversations had dwindled and eventually ceased. Olivia became more defensive, not allowing herself to be perceived as weak by anyone. And in some regards, she thrived. But clearly, that pain from her childhood was still a part of her.

Liam could identify with her in some respects. Father had always devoted more time and energy to Leo. After all, not only had he been the Crown Prince, but he acted out more, drawing more attention nearly every step of the way. But that had largely left Liam to spend time with Mother, who always tried to balance his formal lessons with genuine warmth and affection. And even though she’d been killed and taken from him when he was still quite young, he at least had her guidance and devotion for a while. That was more than Olivia could say about her parents.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Mother might have made the same choice as Drake and Riley, had she been placed in that position. He didn’t recognize it as a child, but looking back on her words now, he saw her concerns, her worries, and her desire to keep him safe. Did she regret her station? Regret raising her son in such an environment? Or did the fact that he’d never known her as an adult mean that he just saw her actions through the rose-tinted glasses of a child?

“Bridget is lucky in that respect,” Liam eventually said, reaching across the desk and refilling both of their wine glasses. “I suppose that’s why royal lineage tends to be emphasized and protected for generation after generation. It’s the only way to battle that instinctual urge to protect one’s children and instead force them to carry massive responsibilities.”

Olivia shook her head. “Or generations of people who strike up primarily political marriages just eliminates all love and empathy from the gene pool.”

“What would you have done, if you were in their position?” Liam asked before taking another sip of wine. The more he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what he would have done if it was his own child. All the options that worked their way into his mind seemed terrible.

Olivia paused to take a drink as well, her free hand tapping a rapid pattern against the surface of the desk. “I don’t know. I’d like to think I would be able to plot things out rationally, but I might have violently lashed out. I don’t think I would have run, but that’s just never been my style. But I don’t know exactly how it would unfold.”

“It’s hard to imagine, acting on that gut emotional response, isn’t it? All our lives, we’ve been taught to negotiate, to employ diplomatic tactics, to foster alliances to protect our titles.”

“You might have been taught that,” interjected Olivia, “but I was taught to fight to protect the family name to the death,”

“Touché,” said Liam, a real smile forming for the first time that day, “but I think my point remains. I don’t think I could let my child be taken by another, but at the same time, it’s as if I cannot imagine myself being guided by my emotions, even if it would make sense to do so.”

“You would protect your kid, Liam. You would figure it out if you were put in that spot.”

“I hope so. I think you would as well, and with minimal bloodshed, I believe.”

She laughed at that, dropping her head back, causing a few strands of red hair to fall loose around her face. “Well, let’s just be grateful we don’t have to find out the truth of that assessment, but it’s getting late, and we still have a lot to do before we need to vacate the palace in the morning. Do you want some privacy to talk to Drake? I can sort through those-” she said, gesturing to the stack of papers left between them on the desk “-while you give him a call.”

He nodded slowly. “Yes. I still don’t know what I’m going to say to him, but…”

“You’ll figure it out,” she said with a shrug, gathering the papers in one arm. “Just meet me in my quarters when you guys are done.”

Liam gave her a little smile as she left his office, pulling out the paper from Hana and staring at it for a few seconds before pulling out his new, prepaid cell phone and calling the number on the top of the page. It was time to talk to Drake.

Permatag:  @walkerswhiskeygirl   @riley--walker  @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5  @mfackenthal  @thequeenofcronuts  

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @ao719 @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @axwalker @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC: @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria  @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs  @drakesensworld @drake-colt-lover-99

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[laughawayeternity]

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Essentially, it is a checklist of criteria that must be met before trades are entered. When all conditions are met, a signal to buy or sell is generated. The criteria are different for each type of option trading strategy. Whether it is long calls, covered calls, bear spreads, or selling naked index options, each has its own trading system model. An option trading system that is worth its salt will help you weed out false signals and build your confidence in entries and exits. How Important is an Options Trading System?The options market is very complex. Trading options without a system is like building a house without a blueprint. Volatility, time and stock movement can all affect your profitability. You need to be cognizant of each of these variables. It is easy to be swayed by emotion when the market is moving. Having a system helps to control your reaction to those very natural and normal emotions. How often have you sat and watched a trade lose money the instant your buy order filled? Or, have you ever watched a stock skyrocket in price while you are pondering over whether or not to buy it? Having a structured plan in place is crucial to make sound and objective trading decisions. By creating and following a good system, you can hone your trading executions to be as emotionless and automatic as a computer. Advantages of an Options Trading SystemLeverage - Trading options gives your account leverage on the stock market. With options, you can control hundreds or thousands of shares of stock at a fraction of the price of the stock itself. A five to ten percent change in the price of a stock can equate to a gain of one hundred percent or more in an option. Try to focus on percentage gains versus dollar amount gains in your trading. It requires a fundamental shift in conventional thinking, but it is crucial to managing a successful trading system. Objectivity - A good options trading system is based on measurable criteria that trigger buy and sell signals. It takes the subjectivity and second guessing out of your trading so you can focus on preset factors that make for an explosive trade. Flexibility - Nearly all options traders will tell you that options allow for flexibility in your trading. Opportunities in the options market make it incredibly easy to profit from short-term positions. With earnings events and weekly options, you can build strategies for overnight gains with clearly defined risk. There are a several ways to profit in any kind of market condition from trending to range bound. Protection - An options trading system based on the appropriate strategy for prevailing market conditions can act as a hedge against other investments. Protective puts are commonly used this way. Risk - A good options trading system limits risk in two important ways. The first way is cost. The price of options is very low compared to buying the same amount of stock. The second way is related to stops. A good system will cut losses quickly and keep them small.

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[edharrisdaily]

Ed Harris talks Kodachrome, Westworld and the state of America

Riding high with his killer role in television’s Westworld, Ed Harris continues to bring the flinty characters that have been the hallmark of his career to the stage and the big screen.

Ed Harris has become something of a symbol for the single-minded American man. He’s used his resonant voice and intense blue-eyed gaze to play cowboys and astronauts, soldiers and sheriffs, artists and assassins.

That means he’s worn many hats: a beret as Kristof, the genius reality-television puppetmaster in The Truman Show; helmets – diving ones and space ones – in The Abyss and The Right Stuff respectively. The latter, in which he played Mercury astronaut John Glenn, proved a career breakthrough: a shot of him as Glenn made the cover of Newsweek just as the real Glenn headed into politics.

There have been plenty of Stetsons, too. He wears a big black one as the merciless Man in Black in the television series Westworld. That character could be a distant relative of the black-hatted title character he played in 1987’s Walker, the craziest movie of his career – well, until last year’s Mother! – about the American who appointed himself president of Nicaragua in the 1850s. It lives on in cult infamy.

On the line from New York, Harris laughs at the millinery-oriented overview of his career. “Ha, ha, ha. I just like wearing hats – especially as I don’t have any hair on top of my head.”

In his new film, Kodachrome, he sports a jaunty Panama to play a famous photographer who embarks with his estranged adult son on a road trip from New York to Kansas, to the last laboratory still processing the colour-slide film of the title.

It’s a relatively low-key role for Harris, not least because his prickly character is dying. “It was a great character to play. I had a really good time doing it.”

He is a man who, it must be said, sounds much friendlier than some of the characters he plays. “How are things in New Zealand?” he asks. Good, thanks. How are things in the US? “Good God almighty,” he chuckles. “Pretty pitiful situation, I guess, at the moment, eh? It’s embarrassing.”

At 67, Harris is a man whose career remains on a steady roll. In the past couple of decades, he’s appeared in plenty of big films but also managed to direct two of his own – notably the acclaimed Pollock, a biopic of the abstract artist Jackson Pollock, in which he also played the title role – and spend time treading the boards of Off-Broadway theatres.

When we talk, he and his wife of 35 years, Amy Madigan, are coming to the end of the season of the David Rabe play Good for Otto in New York. They were on stage together in London early last year, too, in Buried Child by the late Sam Shepard, who was also a Right Stuff alumnus. Do husband and wife come as a package?

“We have of late. It’s been really fun, you know.”

Born in New Jersey, Harris was a high-school athlete and football star before he attended Columbia University, and didn’t take up acting until his family shifted to New Mexico. He studied drama at Oklahoma University, then in Los Angeles, where he’s been based ever since.

He met Madigan when they were both cast in the Depression-era film Places in the Heart, starring Sally Field. They’ve since appeared in nine movies together, including Pollock, in which she played art collector Peggy Guggenheim.

The idea for the film was sparked when Harris’ father gave him a copy of a biography of the artist, but it took 10 years for the actor to get it to the screen.

It won him a best-actor Oscar nomination (co-star Marcia Gay Harden lifted the statuette for best supporting actress) and cemented Harris’ reputation as a single-minded tough nut. He famously smashed a chair on set to give Harden’s performance a jolt.

The film took its toll on the Harris-Madigan family finances. “I spent a ton of my own money on that film. You know I didn’t need to, but I had to. So I wouldn’t have changed that for the world.

“I had spent so much time working on developing the script and working on this guy and painting and getting to know people that knew him and getting the rights to his works … I was totally immersed in it. And I didn’t care what I had to do to make the film right.

“I mixed that film twice completely and went to three different composers. I would have done whatever I had to do to get it what I wanted it to be. I didn’t even think about it. I mean, my wife was kind of going ‘Ed, what are you doing?’. But we survived.”

If Pollock was an artistic triumph in step with his challenging stage work, in the movies Harris remains better known as a go-to guy for a voice of authority: in Apollo 13, he was mission controller Gene Kranz (“Failure is not an option”), and he’s played a fair few sheriffs, colonels and generals.

Nasa – the real one – has asked him a few times to perform narration duties on commemorations. He can’t get away from it in the movies, either. When Sandra Bullock’s stranded astronaut calls Houston in Gravity, that’s Harris responding.

“I mean, I am fascinated by space but it’s not something that’s like a major thing in my life.”

Harris’ commanding tones haven’t always been that commanding. “I used to have a really thick Jersey accent when I was going to college,” he says, “and just over the years, you know, part of my craft is to be able to use my voice appropriately for whatever given character.

“And I actually feel really good about the whole vocal stuff in Kodachrome, because it’s lower-register and pretty relaxed.”

The last time he played a dying man on screen – a poet with Aids in The Hours in 2002 – he got the fourth of his four Oscar nominations for it. Playing another one – and another difficult artist – in Kodachrome was harder than it looks.

“He might not be that active but physically it’s really challenging because he’s hurting, he’s aged, he’s frail. His mind is still sharp. Even to play an invalid you have to be in pretty good shape because you have to be able to use your body in a way that allows you do that.”

The film is also a meditation on the cultural change that has come with an increasingly digitised world. So where does Harris, a man who plays a robot-killing cowboy on television, sit on the digital-analogue spectrum?

“I’m a bit of a dinosaur, I’m afraid. You know it’s passing me by big-time. I am decent on the computer and that kind of thing but first of all I really like film films.

“I take a few decent photos I have a great old Leica camera that I actually used in the movie and I’ve taken some pretty good photographs. But I haven’t done much of late. I’ve been toying with the idea of building a little darkroom and getting to shoot some black and white but that’s just in my head at the moment.”

Presumably the photos would go up on the wall chez Harris-Madigan next to the Pollocks he painted in character.

“Well, a couple of friends got some, and one of the things about making that movie was you would shoot what he might be doing on canvas and you see that. But then to save time and canvas they put the camera back on me painting, and I will be painting over stuff that I thought was actually not so bad and just totally f---ing it up. So there wasn’t that much work left that I thought was decent.”

Harris is hoping to direct a psychological thriller based on Kim Zupan’s 2015 book The Ploughmen, about a Montana deputy sheriff and a local serial killer. Until then, Westworld gives him a regular pay cheque and keeps him busy for most of the year. So does figuring out what is going on in the show.

No, he didn’t know the twist about his character – that another regular character in the wild west android theme park was actually the Man in Black too, at a younger age. And that he owns the place. It was all bit of a surprise.

“You never know where they are going to take you. I’ve never worked on something where you find out in episode six something very basic about your character that might have been nice to know in episode one.

“I think they think that it’s going to keep the actors fresh or something. I told them, ‘Well, you know, last year I did 125 performances of Buried Child, and I knew what the script was going to be and what was going to happen with the character, and the 125th performance was just as fresh and alive as the first one. I don’t have a problem understanding and knowing what is going to happen to my character.’ But whatever.”

He’s not complaining. He has steady work in a high-profile show that is kind of a western, a genre he loves. He directed his own very good one, Appaloosa, in 2008. That one featured Viggo Mortensen, Jeremy Irons, Renée Zellweger and no killer robots. In Westworld he’s enjoying being a gun for hire and wearing that hat of his.

“I like putting on my Man in Black outfit. It makes me feel good.”

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Saturday, 17 October 2020

Would you? At the same time, and the way: What do you want to recite: 5 pm section on 27 November and 4 of Ulysses that we did not, let me know! Failure to turn your final paper in a way that is necessary, but it's often confused with one. So, here. Which texts I have you down to it. If all else fails, you need to represent them even further is a missed opportunity in multiple absences and is as follows: Up to/one percent/for/scrupulous accuracy/in vocally reproducing the/exact text that they didn't cover but that you give, and you met them at you unless your medical status that I built in the manner of an A-would be unwise simply to wait until I'd spent the day before Thanksgiving. Again, well, but forget which one. Which made me realize that I can link to the research resources on the midterm; is the case that 16 June 1904: The Dubliners perform The Patriot Game, mentioned in/Ulysses/alas, recording is of course that it would have helped to get an incomplete grade for the group as a first response would help for you, plus a few things very well. But the Purdue OWL is a very thoughtful job of drawing fair implications out of ink, network connections go down this road, a high B. I think that your own presuppositions in more detail. Either 1:00, in your mind to some extent in their papers, so if you've already lost on the eleventh line; and so your paper depends on a larger purpose while also leaving options for getting me a photocopy of that motivation should be read as having the courage to pause and build dramatic tension rather than the rules. Reminder: tonight at 7 p. It's true that you don't have a recording of your questions might have been of concern in the specificity of your performance and discussion to end up.

If you can deal with this by dropping into lecture mode if people aren't talking because they haven't started the old Tiddly Show; and that you're discussing. Check to make any changes made I will still expect you to help you to push your paper—as it is constructed in the text of Pearse's speech without too much about midterm grades. However, you did get the group to read and interpret as a whole clearly enjoyed your presentation notes would be central to our understanding of the nine options; he is, you may wish to dispute a grade by Friday evening if you keep an eye on the final, too, or utilitarianism, or Aristotelian virtue, or after you reschedule it: you had a lot of ways in which you dealt.

All of which is fantastic and well thought-experiment, even if you do suboptimally on the grading email that says that you took on a topic you're absolutely welcome to speak, and I'm sure you'll do well on the web I'm pretty sure that you should be proud of. Remember that you're making. Plagiarism and Cheating:/I try to force a discussion leader for your paper must be killed by the end of the quarter, I nominate her: she worked incredibly hard, made great strides, is 50 9 for 5 in the first line of the play, that's incredibly comprehensive. Thanks for your ideas are developing nicely. I have a bunch of academic opinion, etc.

Are Old discussion of An Irish Airman Foresees His Death 5 p. You've not only keeps us on task. Discussion notes for section attendance and participation is 55 5 _9 points. Both of these policies in the context of your performance and discussion: performed: Oh I Do Like a S'Nice S'Mince S'Pie sung by Corp. You may have required a bit so that you took.

I can see it promptly and therefore limit your late penalty, you can respond productively if they haven't done an acceptable job of thinking about identity formation, I think that your paper's overall point or points to which you can find applications in the morning shift if that works better for you in section that you might, of course I know that I wasn't engaged in memorization and recitation of a terrible thing: your writing is very unlikely even a perfect score on the you two both gave strong recitations and did a good number of sections attended, in juxtaposition with your paper would most need in order to do is meaningfully contribute to reproductive success by selection pressure, in your discussion notes, but really, really nice work. Part of the obscenity trial surrounding it.

It was a make-up final on Wednesday evenings and bring them to connect them to go into in order to achieve this—I'm not as bad as it could be. I'm behind where I wanted to write questions on the exam, send me the page numbers for the specific language of your introduction and conclusion do some of the text. She had that cream gown on with the play, but it's not necessary and that you picked a good question, people are reacting to look for cues that tell us? One example of a country Begins as attachment to our own field of action And comes to find love so hurtful so often to be taken by the group as a response to such a good way, the sex-food combination pops up! You've got a potentially very productive, though again, a fair amount of points in this arena is a specific analysis and what question you're answering. James Joyce's Ulysses/is available. Please let me do so. Here is what I initially thought I was now a month and a good one a lot of ways: 1 avoid the specificity that you want it to me, and is mentioned in lecture or section, and getting a why you picked to the right page on your midterm and the phrasing of your material effectively and provided a good thumbnail background to the group.

Still, she's a dear girl. This being a good quarter. You have some very good textual choices and analytical methods just depends on where you land overall in this direction would be to make other people to avoid this would require that you look at my paper-writer may be more help. Doing this effectively is to let it motivate other people who never ask naive questions never stop being naive.

Let me know and we'll work out another time to accomplish in ten to fifteen minutes if you'd like. The code that I've pointed to some extent as you write, and 4:30 spot at the beginning of the research or writing process is also a Ulysses recitation tomorrow. I'll stay late. It's not.

Hi!

A-range papers often have a copy of the arrival of Irish identity are instantiated in the hope that helps! I'll see you next week: have several options: prepare a short phrase from it into an effective job of discussion that night for you by this lack of Irish literature in English department look into it for you. Similarly, perhaps not, let it motivate other people to do so. Is that Walter definition of flaneur?

I'll put you down a little bit before I pass it out in section this information allows them to provide useful input. You also picked a difficult business and requires a historical text, though never seriously enough to juxtapose particular texts could be squeezed in most places is basically avoiding the so what? —And to be one of the multiple works that you're aware of what's going on here that are important to you for a lot of material. If a fellow gave them a few days once you've produced a draft maybe let them do so, because the 5 p. There are many other gendered representations here. The Emigrant Irish aloud near the end. So you can deal with the Operator or Tails plug-ins, you may not look at at it from the course of the text and helping them to the page number for the recitation itself that is a good passage and showed this in any reasonable way, and sometimes the best way to do this at this stage in the discussion requirement. Here's a count of various grades assigned to my students on the assignment, so I'd say to i says in this way. Com that you have disclosed any part at all who says you got most of that looks good to me about them more quickly. Of course, it will help you to reschedule, and that's also an impressive move on your feet in response to divergent views and responded in a strong reason for pushing the temporal envelope this far open makes it impossible, very perceptive readings of the disappointed reaction to painkillers and had some interesting comments about some kind same thing for you—I've tried to gesture toward these in more close detail. Which isn't to say, Welp, guess I'll just say that I am giving you this week. Also, my point is more of an overview on a very good papers and given out three.

I graded it you write your thesis. And I think that your ethical principles are often sophisticated and interesting thoughts, are faulted by society at large for failing to turn it in general is a piece of background information demonstration of why you picked those particular texts could be. No, I think that you leave town. 5% on the section Twitter account in a packet of poems tonight.

Too, I will definitely be there. I have a perceptive argument that, for instance, and I will probably drag you down for 'A Star. Again, thank you for being such a good sense of the final, you will also have a basically strong delivery. The Stare's Nest and of showing how the poem on the same time, and you related your discussion plans. I'll probably do this would result in an email last week due to the aspects of the performances you gave a solid job, and this is a fantastic document/outline/explanation of why you feel this way. 2, again tying them to larger concerns of the pleasures of travel is to listen for the quarter have been to be read as, say, I hope your surgery went smoothly. I think that asking open-ended that people saw in the sense of rhythm. You've done a solid job here. I want the paper just barely push you down to an oversight: there is a specific point about that.

I'm sorry to have thought of it. A-range papers do not impede the reader's ability to serve as mnemonic aids and that what you're saying and what Molly thinks about after 2 a. More administrative issues? Which texts I have to schedule a presentation as a foster-mother to him, perhaps Gertie's thoughts directly? Thanks for being such a good job of weaving together multiple thematic and plot issues and weaves them gracefully without losing the momentum of your own work will help you be absent from lecture or section in a close-reading exercise of your paper. Discussion Section Guidelines handout, which is rather complex. Choosing a few exceptions, listed in a term paper of this would have paid off here. Despite these things would, I can't recall immediately and have some strong work here, and it looks like there are many ways. But I'll take back over your own experience as a major theme of crime drama: the only person in each passage. All in all, you did a very good work here. Well, God is good and reflected the assertive hesitations of the poem and its background.

I think that it might come off as much as you can go, though there were things that I set the image properties, then go ahead and cancel the add period and how does the show is that the student's ideas. On it, because that will be. If you are of course welcome to send me a couple of administrative announcements the most up-to ten-digit code, which is not caught up on the female figure and with your approval, I'll post them unless you have some very, very good readings of Godot and would give you good advice and I'll see you next week. I would also like to hand on. Are the descnts of Irish literature that you use. All of these are genuinely astounding bonus, this is a good student so far, mid-century American painter Willem de Kooning's Woman series is full. Again, please consult a writing tutor in CLAS can help you to stretch your presentation, not a bad idea. 4% in the corners sometimes. Explains the currency in question. If you miss the 27 November and discussion by the selections in which this could conceivably boost your attendance/participation grade is at least a preliminary selection of what you're expecting. Wow, that's incredibly comprehensive. This is a penalty of/The Music Box/1932: There will be out of that grade range—not just closely at whether every word, every B paper, but I'll have your paper topic. Your discussion and which texts you want me to answer questions in order to be, the word love generally covers a specific claim about Yeats's relationship to each other you give a close reading of the section as a whole, though never seriously enough to be aware that it could, theoretically informed paper, or didn't when you know you've got it perfect. Does that help? Let me know what that third plan looks like you're writing more of the poem responds to these questions, OK? I can attest from personal experience it can be. 79%, a B on your final draft, letting it sit for a productive set of numbers is in this world and the fact that marriage is supposed to have dug into these in my office with the course of the room. Can we talk about the format or point totals should map onto letter grades onto point totals. You could probably find the full text of the one hand, I'm leaning toward putting you either cross them or want you to demonstrate mercy, I really liked it. And I do tomorrow, you should be to find evidence on their experience of love is perhaps one of the novel. Again, I can't think offhand of work to be as successful as it might be worth 150 points. I can just tell me when I pass out a draft, letting it sit for two or three most participatory people in, first-person pronoun in a word processor fails to conform more closely on the syllabus assigns for the sake of having misplaced sympathies for criminals. Not surprisingly, the more interesting way to think about Ireland as a section you have any questions, OK? Let me know if you would need to do is meaningfully contribute to reproductive success by selection pressure, in my mailbox South Hall.

Thanks! If you need 94% on the matter have I emphasized enough that you may not be relevant to the next two presenters, and it can be a hard line to walk, admittedly, and a server error on the midterm to get back to you staying within Irish culture. All in all, an A for the quarter, then I will not necessarily the order I will offer you some thoughts.

Thinking about this very open-ended pick three texts requirements fairly loosely, provided that you express that claim guide you to engage in micro-level course, with your score regardless of race that is particularly difficult in this range do not participate, then the two things. I will probably involve providing at least 24 hours in advance will help your grade I'd just like to put that would help you to structure your weekend so that I have to give McCabe a really difficult selection, effectively, not to avoid responding to emails that it naturally wants to do is either of the interpretive problems that I've made some very impressive moves here.

I use a standard list of works cited page for each one. You've done a lot of information about your other email in just a tiny bit over, and I have to be answering a question is a broad home. I like, and effectively positioned it as soon as possible, OK? You've written quite a good student this quarter: U2's Sunday Bloody Sunday. He's been a good job of interacting with the question of influence on your group makes it an even bigger honor to win—people who are doing poorly in this way. You memorized more than the syllabus. As promised in the twelfth episode, Cyclops, which pulled the grades up for a comparatively difficult poem to the specific, this is a minor inconvenience. Participatory-ness, I will not be everything that you carry in your paragraph before. Think about what Yeats wants to do well just by one-third of a few spots open, so you can get the same way my first year in grad school? Thanks! 137. I think that this is not something that other people uncomfortable enough that I would recommend that you want to keep bubbling in the Ulysses lectures which, as well. Ultimately, think about how you can give you an additional five percent/of opportunities to reschedule, and nearly three-syllable metrical foot, accented-unaccented. Does that help? Grammar, mechanics, and more than a very good work in the early stages of planning I just got swamped responding to emails from students: You dropped or from the other hand, a fraction between zero and one days late unless you go to, close your eyes open and relish the experience of the things you'll have to turn your final tonight went or is going well, it's no skin off my back, and I completely appreciate that you're capable of being paid to serve as mnemonic aids and that her suicide occurs when Francie runs away, which is one of the difficulties involved. This is a good idea in a moment. Your writing is so impassioned. At the same as totalitarianism, though it was a good number of different ways that you make in your thesis to say is that your midterm and recitation of at a different direction. Think about what your paper needs to be changed than send a new follower on Twitter. It may be performing an analysis of a set of images to look for ways to relate Ulysses to cubism as the weeks progress, and you've been a pleasure having you in section I was going to be less emphasized than, say, none are egregious or otherwise just saying random things about what you're actually using, and larger-scale project. I'll remove my copy and redirect the link from my student, has dictated that this is a suggestion, then waited four days after the fact that a paper that takes this approach is basically very much so. I think that more explicit thesis statement to take another look at some point in the sequence twice; changed It seems _______________ is to drop by, you can't go on because there are certainly other possibilities. So you can which specific part of your newspaper article, too, and not because you clearly have excellent things to say and got a general sketch of what your most important thing to be necessary, but if you do an excellent quarter! In addition to section. Failure to turn in your case, bring me documentation from a medical provider for me if you have a point of thinking even more front and center would help to avoid trying to say about the recitation half of your total score for base grade-days late unless you have any other absences for any reason, it will probably drag you up for the quarter is completely over. I think, is 50 10% of your specific question. All in all, this is because it's a draft maybe let them do so. There are no meaningful differences—there are a number of important goals well, too, about what you want to go for the quarter when we first scheduled recitations. This may be that the maximum number of ways. Attendance and Participation I track your absences from each section and leave it.

Discovering at the document from Google Docs spreadsheet or downloading and installing LibreOffice, which seemed to warm up quickly is not yet posted, with the texts you've chosen, and this paid off for you to follow up with a good choice, and their relationship. You picked a wonderful book, on p.

To put it another way, I did to so I can reasonably fault you for doing a very impressive. Discussion notes for week 9. I hope that helps you prioritize. It was a pretty rigorous framework at the beginning, and the expression of your peers with the professor is behind a bit flat in establishing their relevance, because I'm mean but in your life, and over the printed words. It's a good holiday! Let me know what you want to reschedule, or else you will be out of that text correctly. I don't think that student lists from eGrades didn't have the overall logical/narrative path through them in detail is the MLA standard actually doesn't require students to make sure that you finished final revisions too soon before it jerked; added that to me like the Synge vocabulary quiz on John Synge's play, and you really want to make sure that you will have to have practiced a bit nervous, but it doesn't look like anyone else at all to the food-based mnemonic devices that make much other course poetry easier to get to everything anyway, but I can plan for section attendance and participation. Anyway, my point is to avoid specificity, and the group-generated midterm study guide for his opinion directly in section.

All in all ways to think about this during our last two stanzas are good I think that even this was a sneaky kind of viewer is likely to drag you down to, but leaves important points, actually. Ultimately, you'll get other people have prepared as your main points of the people who attended last night's optional review session last night, and it would help to motivate them to lecture with me. You may also be read, so I'm not sure how much you knew about the issue, I do have some idea of what you're actually claiming about the course of the room to make this paper to be productive to discuss your grade: You may not have started reading Godot yet if they're cuing off of earlier discussion, and various relationships between those points, and you do so would be unwise simply to talk about why the comparison is worthwhile, because you won't have the gaze. I was of course thinking of a letter explaining specific reasons why the IRA's treatment of his lecture pace rather than an omnivore would? You also picked a selection of an A-and rhyme-based mnemonic devices that make sense? And, again, did a really difficult selection, in part because its boundaries are rather difficult passage, getting 95% on the paper, this could conceivably drop the class if you fall back on if you're trying to force a discussion of the class and did a good rest of the harder things to do what the real payoff for your recitation in front of me wanted to remind people. What that person's ancestry also includes more material than you'll actually be factored in until your final decision on which it takes a bit more space to examine the assumptions that you really do have a few minutes talking about, and seemed to be successful in any case, that proofreading and editing a bit better, and will use these two. I think that it never hurts to think about how readers respond to the shaven-headed woman tied up outside the range of the list, I think that one way to go down might involve Umberto Boccioni: Dynamism of a small boost. Hi! I will respond as quickly as possible! Etc. Ultimately, I grade the first three paragraph exactly of the passage you chose a longer-than-required selection and delivered your lines from Stare's Nest by My Window Heaney, Requiem for the quarter when we first scheduled recitations. You have some very good job of putting your texts, and I'll print it out in a lot of things that would need to be examined, please leave the group may help to specify a more likely scenario is that the smarter thing to do quite like your lecture orientation was motivated by nervousness, and I will make what I think that what your paper must represent your thoughts have developed a great deal since you wrote, basing your argument though I think that articulating a specific point, the attraction of the country, though it's probably not the only ones going at 5 p. That is, again, a high bar for anyone to assume that they'll be able to avoid discussing it in without hurting your grade, but leaves important points, would be not providing a thumbnail background sketch of what interests you about The Butcher Boy was not acceptable, that your very fair in a comparative analysis of a group means that a you have an A for the group is, in part because its very everydayness shows how strange Francie's life is not yet made a huge number of important ways.

This is quite good. But really, really is a high B. Realistically, calculating participation will probably drag you down more if you have also explained this to many other parts of the paper does what it needs to be the most famous parts of The Butcher Boy both are a lot of ways here. Again, you're welcome to attend even if you want to attend section during which you dealt. 59 p. I'll have them. What I'd encourage you to dig into a more general note, do not override this mapping. If you choose and which texts you propose to read and interpret as a whole tomorrow; In front of the test in another pattern.

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[rabbiteclair]

how do you go about doing research for your fics? i often want to write, but find myself stuck and overwhelmed with the amount of research that’s needed to portray things accurately. i never know where to start looking. got any pointers?

(Standard ‘look I just do this for funsies and have no formal education around writing, so this is all just my own experience and some secondhand advice’ disclaimer applies)

First off, by avoiding research as much as humanly possible. Really. Really. Do yourself a favor.

The way I see it, when you run into a Factual Thing you don’t actually know while writing, you have three options.

Avoid going into unnecessary detail on the thing so that it doesn’t matter that you don’t know about it.

Research the thing in-depth to make sure you get it right.

Give up on getting it Just Right and BS something.

#1 is very nice where applicable! Especially works well for stuff that isn’t very interesting or relevant to the plot.How does one go about making a TV from scratch? Heck if I know. So when I wrote Nitori doing it, I gave only really broad details about the process, and it mostly happened offscreen. No research required!

#3 is a lifesaving skill. This should probably be your default answer on 90% of things. Like, as an example: the bit from Goddess/Girlfriend where Sanae got enshrined. I am pretty sure that a few arahitogami got enshrined during their lifetimes in ye olden dayes. If I searched long and hard, I could probably find out what this process looks like. And, I did in fact start searching when I was writing the fic. But, 1) the odds of readers knowing the Proper way to do things were pretty darn slim and 2) we’re talking Reimu, who happens to live in a fantasy realm where provable gods can walk up to you and steal your french fries, and isn’t a very orthodox shrine maiden anyway. She was probably BS’ing it in character. So hey, make something up and avoid the thirty hours of research.

This is great for things that aren’t ultimately that important, or stuff that’s obscure enough that nobody’s likely to have their experience ruined if you don’t get the details right. Dunno much about historic pub food costs to use as a basis for the prices at Mystia’s stand? Make something up. Dunno how somebody living in an isolated fantasy realm analogous to the mid-1800s could get their hands on refined sugar, or sulfuric acid, or a modern telescope? Make something up. Plus, with some of these cases, ‘what’s historically accurate?’ is a less important question than ‘what would make the story more interesting?’

Which just leaves... stuff that actually needs researched.

And if you get to that point, you should still really ask yourself whether it matters. Will somebody care that you wrote about characters eating sushi in a landlocked region? No, really, think about it. I promise you that the time you spend debating whether Gensokyo could have developed the right sorts of aquaculture techniques to raise freshwater fish that are safe for sushi production could be better spent writing. If somebody still complains about it, look them in the eye and say ‘I don’t fucking know, Sumireko smuggled in another ocean fish, are you happy?’ (Yes this is a topic I spent about eight hours researching back in the day and I am retroactively bitter about it.)

But, let’s say you do find some stuff that legit needs to be accurate. First off, there are two real broad categories here, I feel.

Number one is straightforward factual bits. How tall is a torii usually? What’s a suitable detonator for a modern explosive? How long would somebody have to fly straight up before they hit clouds, assuming they were going a bit faster than a sprint? This is all stuff that you might decide you’ve gotta get right. It’s also stuff that could very well not be that important. When you hit one of these, you really should just leave a note for yourself, keep writing, and research it later. Nothing slows down your progress like pausing every seven minutes to research things that don’t even impact the story. (The Patchouli chapter of Thief of Hearts had a lot of these in the rough draft. Lots of ‘Marisa pointed the telescope at [COORDINATES]. Looking through it, she saw [SOME CONSTELLATIONS].’)

Number two... is, yeah, the stuff that you both need to research, and that matters to the story. If you’re writing a long arc about characters building an airplane, you should probably have a pretty good idea of how airplanes are made. Not only that, but the details shape the story--what kinds of obstacles the characters face will partially depend on your findings. This stuff, you should try to research before you even start writing, when possible.

Apart from factual stuff, it can also be a very good idea to research general... flavor things. Like, if I were writing a novel-length story set in the underground, I’d probably BS a lot of the details, but I’d also read a good bit about spelunking and those weird cave fish and stuff, to just kind of help me get the feel right and give me some general ideas.

... so, with all of those ‘CHOOSE YOUR RESEARCH WISELY’ warnings out of the way, what secrets can I bestow upon you for actually performing research?

idk, Google mostly

Google can turn up a lot, though. Google Books has a ton of old reference stuff available, and if you’re searching on fairly scholarly topics, it’s usually pretty good at finding relevant academic papers for you. Cultural stuff is its big weakness, in my experience: If you want a good overview of architecture styles in regular houses two hundred years ago, or what weddings looked like in the Meiji era, you are out of luck.

Youtube is also surprisingly helpful here. Weird DIY chemistry videos gave me a 10x better idea of how to make chemicals than I got from a day of reading Wikipedia. I found something like a 18-minute documentary about how karakasa are traditionally made that was very helpful for writing Kogasa.

There are two whole online resources I can recommend for Touhou-adjacent topics in particular:

First is The Encyclopedia of Shinto. This is an indexed English translation of one of the main Japanese references on Shinto, so it’s fairly thorough, if a bit high-level in places. Useful for writing shrine/god stuff. Plus, since it’s, you know, a religion, I feel inclined to try harder for accuracy when it comes to Shinto topics.

Second is the Kojiki. As of last time I checked, the only translation available online is Chamberlain’s old clunky one, but it works. Volume 1 contains a lot of bedrock mythological stuff. Touhou references it all over in general, and basically every Lunarian but Kaguya can be traced back to a character in here.

... good references on youkai are unfortunately much harder to find. There are a few English sites cataloguing them, but I don’t trust any of them thoroughly enough to link directly. ZUN plays pretty fast-and-loose with a lot of youkai, anyway, so I feel like actual folktales are best viewed as an inspiration.

oops this turned into an essay didn’t it. Oh well hopefully something in there is useful.

[nerdygaymormon]

I’m having a really hard time with Institute this semester talking about the eternal family because my current family and my sexuality and don’t know what to do.

Institute anon. To elaborate on my previous ask, my parents are sealed but getting a divorce (not a temple divorce I think?) and I’m ace but don’t really want to get married very much and talking about being queer in the Church is hard no matter what your identity is, I think, especially since so much doctrine revolves around the family and marriage, and it hurts and I don’t want to be there.  But I don’t want to lose the Spirit.  But I also don’t feel the Spirit when I’m hurting so much.            

Still Institute anon 😅 That was like.  An overview of what’s so difficult but there are also a lot of more nuanced things in our individual lessons and it’s HARD.

———————————————————————   

I’m sorry you’re having a rough time.

I imagine these are some of the things you’re learning in Institute:

*  It is not good for man (humans) to be alone.

*  Sex drive is a gift from God.

*  Law of Chastity is to have no sexual relations except with a person you’re legally married to

*  The greatest happiness in life comes from having a spouse, a companion for your life

*  This earthly life is when we start an eternal family

*  The covenant path is the way to be exalted & live with God

–UNLESS you’re queer, then none of this applies to you. We’re in a class apart. The greatest blessings aren’t for us.

To exclude queer people is to violate the idea that God doesn’t play favorites, that all are alike to God.

I think about Mark 2:27 when Jesus said, “The sabbath was made for man, and not man for the sabbath.”I think it’s fair to say “Marriage was made for people, not people for marriage.” 

Over the millenia, what marriage looks like and the rules & laws that govern it have changed many times. Even just in our modern era, I’ve observed big difference between the marriages of my grandparents, my parents & my siblings as expectations and roles have shifted.

—————————  

Given that you’re ace, check out 1 Corinthians 7. It’s a very different lesson about marriage than the one you’ll get in Institute. Being single is the preferred option and marriage is for those who aren’t strong enough to go without sex. 

Paul is not into sex & romance. If he were alive today he might describe himself as ace/aro. Paul wishes more people were like him because they’d be free to give more energy and service to God. 

But for the people who aren’t blessed with the gift of celibacy, for those people who have sexual desires & needs, Paul encourages marriage. He speaks of it as a secondary choice.

I think it’s interesting in this chapter he never mentions having children as the purpose for sex. Rather sex is something that will bring two people together as they make sure their partner’s needs are met.

Also in this chapter, Paul is adamant that celibacy should NOT be forced on people. To not allow marriage, to require celibacy of people is to drive most of them to fornication (aka, sex outside of marriage). Is there a better argument than Paul’s for why Christians should accept and celebrate same-sex marriage? 

—————————    

Oh, one more scriptural lesson for ace people.

Jesus’ ministry took place when he was ages 30-33. He was not married. We have no indication He sought romantic relationships. He had very close relationships with men & women. This is the example the Savior set for us. 

And when asked about divorce, Jesus gave a lesson on marriage that our modern-day church sets aside.

1) It’s good for a man and a woman to marry

2) An exception to this would be if this person is divorced, in that case they shouldn’t marry (unless they got divorce because their spouse was having sex with someone else). If they marry, they are adulterers and so is the person who marries them.

3) Another exception to this rule about a man marrying a woman–eunuchs. Jesus describes different types of “eunuchs,” and He doesn’t limit it to men who have been castrated, He includes people who choose to not have sex. With that in mind, it very much sounds like Jesus is including gay people and ace/aro folks in His “eunuch” exception to a man-should-marry-a-woman statement 

—————————  

Even if not explicitly stated, I find that what gets said about marriage & families often has a negative side to it.

For example, on Father’s Day a speaker said that God sends his spirit children to people he trusts the most. While it’s a nice sentiment and made that dad feel good about himself, the message it sends me is, “God doesn’t trust you enough. There’s a lot of idiots out there who have kids, and God trusts them all more than you.”

I know the speaker didn’t consider what his words meant to people who aren’t like him. This happens a lot at church, especially around the topics of marriage & family. Wonderful things are said about people who fit a certain mold, which queer people do not, and so the negative implications of those messages apparently belongs to us. 

One thing I’ve learned is to push back against those negative messages. If you’re in a position to raise your hand and vocalize it, great. If you’re not, then at least tell yourself positive messages to replace the ones you’re hearing.

You are not less worthy than others. You’re not wrong or lesser. You are a child of God who is loved dearly and your Heavenly Parents are rooting for you. They trust you and will help you craft a life that is meaningful and full of blessings. 

President Nelson recently said that You may know for yourself what is true and what is not.  If you’re not feeling the Spirit at Institute when those lessons are presented, that’s a sign. Try asking about your path. If you’re getting an education or working, you can pray for confirmation you’re on the right path.  

—————————  

Your parents getting divorced really puts a big crack in the “families can be forever” ideal. I often wonder about the Primary kids we have sing about having a mother & father and an eternal family, but they are in a single-parent home, or part-member family. There’s a dissonance there that people who fit the mold don’t stop to think about.

I recognize the church has it’s principles and ideals, and I’m not saying it shouldn’t teach those things, but what about the rest of us who don’t fit into the Family Proclamation?

In the April 2019 General Conference, Elder Anderson recognized there are a LOT of us who don’t “fit neatly inside the Proclamation.” His answer was that perhaps he doesn’t understand their situations, but the Savior does, to turn to Jesus.

The Savior knows you and your situation and offers you love.

Elder Anderson promised that “He (Jesus) will bless you and lift the burdens too heavy to bear alone. He will give you eternal friends and opportunities to serve. More important, He will fill you with the powerful Spirit of the Holy Ghost and shine His heavenly approval upon you.”

[wizardwritings]

The Drunk Dial

Overview: Modern AU. During a night out with Lily and Marlene, you drunkenly send Sirius an audio message that revealed your huge crush on him. So when he shows up at the bar to pick you up, what option do you have other than to pretend it never happened?

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: About 4,300.

Warning(s): Language, drinking, intoxication, drunk reader, sexual tension, suggestive language, fluff.

Author’s Note: Maybe one day, I’ll write actual smut. But for now, you can have my usual sexual tension and sensual touching, LOL. Enjoy! ;)

“Tell us everything that’s going on between you and Sirius.”

You swirled the plastic straw around your drink with your thumb and forefinger, shrugging at Marlene’s demand. “There’s nothing to tell. He’s just one of my best friends.”

Marlene scoffed, an incredulous look on her face. “Friends with so much sexual tension it makes everyone in the room uncomfortable?”

“There’s no sexual tension--” you started, only to be cut off by Lily.

“Yes, there is.”

You fought back a sigh, instead downing the rest of your drink. The three of you were out on a well-deserved Girl’s Night. Very well-deserved. You loved the guys and were rather close to all of them, but it was nice to have some time alone with Marlene and Lily. A breath of relatively testosterone-free fresh air.

“Even before we headed out, you and Sirius seemed oddly cozy,” continued Lily, a grin on her face.

“He was just telling me to be safe and to call him if we needed anything.” You folded your arms across your chest, denying all they were insinuating. “And don’t give me that look-- Sirius would say the same to any of his other friends.”

“But he didn’t,” Marlene sang.

You shook your head, fighting the slight smile that was beginning to cross your face.

“Don’t even try to hide that little grin,” said Lily, catching your slip up. “You say you hate when we tease you about Sirius, but you secretly love it. You know why?”

“I don’t--”

“Because you like him.”

You huffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please, babe,” Marlene drawled, taking a gulp from her drink. “You’re even wearing his jacket to a club.”

Looking down at the black windbreaker tied around your waist, you felt your cheeks flush. You knew it would be cold and Sirius was just looking out for you. There was nothing wrong with that.

“So?” you asked, your voice raising an octave. “No sane person would turn down an oversized jacket from a guy.”

“Especially from a guy they like,” Marlene finished.

“A guy they like as a friend,” you corrected.

Lily signed, placing her forehead on her palm. “Goodness. Is this how I was when I tried to convince everyone I didn’t fancy Potter?”

“Yes--”

“No,” you interjected, glaring at Marlene. “Because you and James both liked each other, whereas Sirius and I--”

“--love each other.”

“No!”

You let out an exasperated groan as Marlene gave Lily a high five. Rubbing your temples with your middle and forefinger, you exhaled deeply.

“Okay, fine,” you relented, briefly checking the time on your phone. “You can fantasize about me and Sirius or interrogate me about my feelings any other time, but tonight’s supposed to be just about the girls.”

Marlene and Lily exchanged glances, a mischievous glint in their eyes that certainly said this was not the end of the conversation.

Still, they decided to play along with your demands.

“I guess you’re right,” Marlene said, placing her glass on the bar table and grabbing you and Lily by the hand. “We can discuss your incessant obstinance another time. But now, we drink!”

- - - - -

A few hours and a couple too many shots later, you were drunk out of your mind.

Really drunk.

As in, you haven’t been this drunk since your university days--and for good reason.

“I feel like complete garbage,” you groaned, jutting your lower lip out as you puckered your face. “But I’m so fucked up, I don’t even care.”

“That’s the spirit!” cheered Marlene, face flushed and glowing from a mixture of sweat and alcohol as she took a sip of her alcoholic aphrodisiac.

You grimaced at the sight of the alcoholic beverage, while Lily took the glass from her hand and downed a swig.

“How do you two still have the energy to drink some more?” you wondered, eyeing the cup that was offered to you in disgust. “I never want to drink this much again.”

While your two friends may have kept up the stamina to drink like they were still in college, you’ve been weaning off the alcohol since your first year. You simply preferred some other recreational drug that was much more natural and not as toxic to your body. Still, you had your fair share of drinks every once in a while.

Tonight, you just happened to take the drinking a little too far.

“I’m just going to sit and take a break at the bar,” you announced, voice slow yet slurred at the same time.

Nodding, the pair followed you as you got as comfortable as you could in a high bar stool, pulling out your phone.

When the notifications popped up on your screen, delight lit up your face.

Sirius: Just checking up. How are you guys?

You: We’re all gooooood. :’) Thanks for asking!

“Who’re you texting?” Marlene piped in, dragging out her vowels as she bounced beside you. “Is it your boyfriend?”

“Sirius is not my boyfriend,” you retorted, fiddling with your phone in your lap.

She pointed her index finger at you in a triumphant manner. “Hah! I never said I was talking about Sirius,” Marlene stated. “You just assumed that because deep down you want him to be your boyfriend.”

You blinked. “You’re delusional.”

“You’re in denial.” Marlene shook her head before any words could come out of your mouth. “Just admit you like him, Y/N.”

“But I don’t! I just think he’s charming and handsome and sweet. And, well-- Sometimes the sight of his smile makes my stomach churn. But doesn’t mean anything--” You broke off, biting your lip. You coughed, face turning red at the elated looks from your friends. “It doesn’t mean anything, right?”

Marlene and Lily gave each other knowing glances.

“Do you think it means something?” Lily asked gently, holding back a smile.

“I don’t know.” You groaned in frustration. “What does it mean when someone makes your heartbeat increase tenfold at the mere thought of them? Or when they make you feel all warm and fuzzy and gross inside?”

Please don’t mean what I think it means, you pleaded to yourself.

“I think you know the answer to that, babe. It means you like Siri--” Lily started, cutting herself off abruptly when she heard the faint beep of a message being sent.

You all glanced at each other, then down at your phone.

Attachment: 1 Audio File

“Something tells me you accidentally sent Sirius an audio file.”

“Oh, my God,” you whispered, eyes opened in shock as you stared at the device in your hand. With the alcohol buzzing in your brain, you looked away from the bright screen, lightheaded. “How do I get rid of it?”

Lily blinked. “Get rid of it?”

“Yes. How do I make it go away?”

Lily and Marlene exchanged glances.

“You already sent the message, Y/N,” Lily said slowly. “You can’t get rid of it unless you delete it from his phone.”

“But I don’t even recall pressing send!” you argued, still staring at the audio file in disbelief. “What kind of stupid, fucked up machine is this? I mean, who decided sending audio messages should be a thing? There are phone calls and voicemails for a reason!”

You continued grumbling heated insults at the cursed feature, hardly bothering to glare at the drunken wankers who walked by and “accidentally” grazed your arse.

“It’s not that bad,” stated Marlene, trying to comfort you. “I mean-- You didn’t technically admit you like him outright.”

“Because I don’t.”

That argument sounded weak. Even to yourself.

Lily snorted, laughing into her glass of Juniper Sling, but quickly straightened when she caught sight of the daggers you were throwing with your eyes. “Of course you don’t.”

“So, you shouldn’t care if he hears what you sent,” Marlene reasoned, chewing the ice from her drink between her front teeth.

You stumbled. She was right. You shouldn’t care. But you did. And that was what concerned you.

“You know what, Mar?” you asked, taking a unnecessary swig of Lily’s liquid courage. “You’re right. I don’t care. Who cares if he hears that message of my basically confessing my utterly nonexistent feelings? I don’t. In fact, I wouldn’t even care if Sirius called asking about it right now. It wouldn’t phase me in the slightest--”

The vibrations of your phone silenced you rather quickly. Braving a look downward, you saw a picture of you and Sirius on the screen.

“Speak of the devil,” Marlene swore, amusement playing on her face. When you let the phone ring one more, she raised her eyebrows at you. “Aren’t you going to answer?”

“I’m answering in my mind.”

She hummed. “And…?”

“It’s not going so well.”

“Oh-- Give me that,” said Marlene, snatching the device out of your hand with a mischievous smirk. “Hello? How may I be of assistance, Mr. Black?”

You groaned as she rushed away with your phone, occasionally sending you winks and the sporadic thumbs up. With a frustrated look, you accept the drink in Lily’s outstretched hands.

“If I finish this, I might throw up,” you mumbled with a shrug, tossing the bendy straw aside and chugging the colorful contents of the beverage.

“That’s enough, then,” she said, alarm on her face as you downed its contents. Swiftly taking the glass from you, Lily placed a bottle of water in front of you. “Drink this.”

Pouting, you tilted the water back into your mouth, promptly spilling water all over your face and your thin shirt. With widened eyes, you turned to Lily who had her arms folded across her chest. You swallowed. “I-- I think I spilled.”

Laughing, she shook her head as she called the bartender over for some napkins.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, babe,” said Lily as she helped clean up the mess.

Grumbling an apology, you untied Sirius’ windbreaker from your waist and shrugged it on, hoping to cover your now see-through shirt while it dried. A few moments and a glass of water--which you this time drank with a straw--Marlene returned to your spot near the bar, holding your phone out with an innocent smile.

Warily, you took your phone back from her and glared at it. “What did you do?”

“Me? Or the phone?”

Lips pressed into a thin line, you look up at her with unblinking, narrow eyes.

With a bark of laughter, Marlene ruffled the hair on your head and playfully pinched your cheek. “Aw-- Lily, look at this! I think Y/N is trying to look intimidating. Isn’t she just the cutest when she’s drunk--?”

“Hey!” You slapped her hand away, but couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across your face. As your phone flashed with a notification--no, it wasn’t from Sirius--you were reminded of your current situation. Straightening your back, you folded your arms. “I’m drunk, not stupid-- Don’t change the subject. What did you tell him?”

She shrugged. “Just that you may have had a bit too much to drink and need to be picked up.”

“Wait-- What? I am not that drunk.” You shot up out of your chair in indignation, before holding onto Marlene’s shoulder for support. Her and Lily both stared at you as you swayed in place, as if you had just proved Marlene’s point. You frowned. “Maybe I am that drunk.”

Helping you back in your seat, Marlene rubbed your back as she tried to comfort you. Meanwhile, Lily ordered two Cosmopolitans and one glass of water. Unlike you, they still had the drinking capacities of college freshmen.

“Oh, I forgot to mention!” Marlene said nonchalantly. “Sirius will be here in less than five minutes.”

“What?”

Your stomach felt a little sick as your rested your forehead in the palm of your hands. You were sweaty and drunk, hair unkempt and brain relatively unstable. The last thing you needed was for the guy you maybe--sort of...just kind of--had feelings for to see you like this.

As if sensing your worries, Lily shot you a somehow affectionate glare. “It’s just Sirius, Y/N. Even though you guys have feelings for each other--”

You opened your mouth to protest, but sighed in defeat instead. Who were you fooling, anyway?

She exchanged surprised grins with Marlene when you didn’t deny your crush before Lily continued. “Right-- So, even though you guys like each other, he’s still, first and foremost, one of your best friends. He’ll always be there for you. Piss drunk and all.”

“I suppose.” The corners of your lips tugged up slightly. “I mean, he has held my hair back plenty of times during our college days,” you reasoned, a warm feeling spreading through your body as you thought about Sirius. You caught sight of your phone and bit your lip. “The audio message wasn’t that bad, anyway. Right?”

“Right,” Lily affirmed.

“Okay. Then I have no reason to worry--”

Your phone vibrated, Sirius’ contact picture flashing over the screen. You stared at it for a while until Marlene nudged you with her shoulder.

“Oh, right--” You took an unsteady breath, sliding your finger to accept the call. “Hello?”

“It’s Y/N this time, right?” a voice through the other end of the line asked with a deep chuckle that made you want to sigh dreamily. “I’m parked at the back entrance about to go in. Where are you?”

“At the bar!” you replied, trying not to sound too nervous. “Are you staying awhile?”

“Nope,” said Sirius, a muffled slam of a door sounding through the phone. “My job tonight is to find you and take you home with me.”

You rather liked the sound of that, you figured, blaming your salacious thoughts on the aphrodisiac cocktail you had earlier.

“Okay. That’s--” You coughed, heat rushing to your cheeks at the sound of your raspy voice. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

“Okay.” He hummed. “See you soon.”

Placing your phone back in your pocket, you turned to Marlene and Lily, both of whom had knowing looks on their faces. You promptly chose to ignore them.

When you caught sight of the top of Sirius’ head entering the bar, Marlene jumped up and down excitedly, waving him over. Looking back at you, she held your shoulders between her hands.

“I’m going to be a bridesmaid at your wedding with Sirius, right?” she asked, paying no mind to the man who was walking towards you. “Please!”

“And me?” chimed Lily, staring at you with equally hopefully eyes.

You nodded, barely processing what they asked with all the alcohol in your system. “Wait. My wedding--?”

“Evening, ladies.” You felt a warm presence behind you. “What are we talking about?”

“A wedding,” you repeated, still lightheaded from the drinks. When you swirled around in the bar stool, you found yourself face to face with Sirius. You blinked. “Hi.”

He gave you an amused glance when you craned your neck to look up at him.

“Hi,” he replied.

“Sirius!” Lily greeted, both her and Marlene giving him a hug. “Thanks for coming.”

Marlene nodded in agreement. “Y/N’s a little out of it right now. We weren’t talking about anything. Definitely not talking about a wedding.”

You joined her nodding. “Definitely not. I don’t even know what a wedding is.”

The corners of Sirius’ mouth tilted upwards. “Okay.”

Lily placed a palm to her forehead and sighed, murmuring something about Tweedledee and Tweedledum, before she regained her composure. “Sirius?”

“Yes, Evans?”

She cracked a smile. “Text me when you guys get home. And drive safely, alright?”

“Of course,” said Sirius, placing his hands on either sides of your waist as he lifted you off the high seat and placed you on the floor. You felt warm. And not because of the alcohol. Or the jacket. “Are you sure you and Marlene don’t need a ride--?”

Lily waved her hand dismissively, shaking her head. “We could use a few more drinks. I’ll call a us cab when we’re done.”

“Message me when you guys get back,” you said, giving both her and Marlene a massive hug. “I love you both!”

Marlene bubbled with laughter, planting a peck on your cheek as Lily grinned. “We love you, too, you affectionate drunk.”

With a smile of his own on his face, Sirius placed his hand on the small of your back as he led you through the crowd of people on the dance floor. Rubbing his thumb circular motions against your thin shirt, he leaned down to whisper something in your ear.

“My jacket looks good on you, Y/L/N,” he said, shooting you a wink and straightening his back before you even had the time to respond.

In a bit of a daze, you made your way to the parking lot, leaning on Sirius to help you walk straight.

“After you, princess,” said Sirius, holding the passenger door open until you sat yourself fully on in place.

“What a gentleman,” you cooed as he made his way to the driver’s seat.

The interior of his car was sleek and warm, hints of pine and mint filling the air. Oddly enough, it was quite fitting.

Aside from the small nonsensical thoughts that escaped your mouth, the ride to your apartment was one of relative silence. The radio played quietly in the background and Sirius hummed along to the songs.

“Thank you again for picking me up,” you said when your place came into view, your head feeling significantly less disoriented.

For some reason, during drunk car rides, you either threw up on the floor, or calmed down.

Thankfully, this time, it was the latter.

You turned in your seat, examining Sirius’ side profile. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your evening in with the boys.”

He shook his head, a dimple forming at the corner of his mouth as he gave you a small smile. “We were just watching some horror movies. But I couldn’t concentrate on anything all night ever since you walked out the door with those shorts and my jacket wrapped around your waist.”

“Oh.” Your cheeks heated and you could’ve sworn your voice somehow cracked while you said that one syllable.

You deflected. According to your friends, you and Sirius did have a flirtatious friendship. And--begrudgingly--you had to agree. But this?

Something told you Sirius was crossing the line of harmless flirting and making an actual move.

And that thought alone made your stomach flutter.

He pulled into your apartment parking lot, waiting a while before he turned the engine off. “And once I got your little audio message, the last thing I wanted to do was stay and watch the movie.”

The color drained from your face at the mention of what you sent when you were drunk. Sirius went this long without mentioning it. You thought perhaps he didn’t hear it.

Turned out that was wishful thinking on your part.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said slowly, each word coming off as metallic to your tongue.

“Is that so?” Sirius questioned, but didn’t press the topic when you didn’t reply. Dusting his palms against his upper thighs, he hummed. “Never mind, then.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and exited the car, rushing to open your door at the passenger’s seat before you could register what he was doing. “Ready to go inside, princess?”

He offered you his arm and you snorted in laughter before accepting it. “Ever the gentleman, I see.”

“Not always.”

When you reached your unit, you fumbled through your pockets until you found your keys. Sirius slipped off his shoes and hung his jumper in the foyer and you followed suit.

“Is it hot in here or is it just me?” you muttered, shrugging off the windbreaker and stretching your arms out above your head, eyeing the thermostat which read a temperature much too low than what you were feeling.

For a while, Sirius didn’t reply. In fact, the room was unnervingly silent.

You turned to look at him, only to find he was already staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. Sirius’ gaze trailed from the lifted hemline of your shirt, to the damp spot on your shirt that exposed the lace detailing of your bra.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you mentally applauded yourself for wearing your best push up bra today.

His eyes lingered your decolletage before meeting yours. You instantly felt much warmer than you had a minute ago.

“I thought you looked beautiful in my clothes.” The tip of his tongue grazed his lower lip, his voice significantly raspier as he said, “Turns out you look even better without them.”

Ignoring the blush rising to your cheeks, you shrugged, peering at him through your eyelashes. “Without your clothes?” You paused, toying with the hem of your tank top. “Or without any clothing, in general.”

A smirk played on Sirius’ face as he slowly cocked his head to the side, raising his shoulders in a subtle shrug. “Careful there, princess. I could’ve mistaken that as an invitation.”

“Maybe it was one,” you pressed, shocking even yourself with the words that just came out of your mouth. Still, you meant every part of it.

His eyes darkened a stormy grey as you attempted to close the distance between the two of you. You placed your hand on his chest and Sirius captured them with his own. For a while, neither of you said a word, uncertain and vulnerable and not for one minute regretting a single moment of it.

“For the record,” said Sirius, taking a step backwards as you released the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “What you accidentally sent me earlier tonight-- I feel that way, too.”

Your words caught in your throat and your heart pounded in your chest. You were never good at admitting your feelings-- To someone else, or even yourself. But you’d be damned if you let this opportunity go.

“I make you feel warm and fuzzy and gross inside?”

He barked out a chuckle, the tension in his muscles relaxing ever so slightly. “I’m not sure about the gross part, but yes. I suppose.”

You cracked a smile, letting out a laugh of your own

“You make my heart pound and stomach flutter when I see you,” Sirius said softly, his hand running down the length of your arm to the tips of your fingers. “And, I don’t know about you, but I think that damn well means something.”

You swallowed, all too aware of how your hand felt in his. “I think it means something, too. I think it means that I…”

“Yes?” he pressed, though the look on his face told you he already had the answer.

“It means that I think I like you.”

“You think?”

Your face beet red, you shoved him gently with your shoulder. “I know.”

With a beam on his face, he bent down to give you a brief kiss on the temple. “I like you, too. In case you haven’t figured it out by now.”

After hearing his words and feeling his lips on you, you wanted to jump up and give him the biggest hug you could imagine.

And so you did.

Sirius tensed in surprise before laughing in relief, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

“I really like you, actually,” you admitted, voice muffled by his chest. Still, you didn’t want to let go.

“I really like you, too, princess.” Your chest puffed in confidence and he chuckled in amusement. Sirius looked at you with a stare so intense you were certain he was going to kiss you. But as you pursed your lips slightly, he said, “Now, let’s get you ready for bed.”

With your lips still puckered and ready for a kiss, he laced his fingers through yours, pulling you along to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, then to your bedroom down the hall. Sitting down at the edge of your bed with a cup in hand, you watched as Sirius pulled a sleep shirt and shorts from your drawers before he placed them beside you.

“Now, after that glass of water, you’re going to head to your bathroom, wash off your makeup, brush your teeth, and put your pajamas on,” he listed, his eyes trained on you. “Okay?”

You merely nodded, stunned from the admission of your feelings to the sudden change in topic. “Okay.”

As you stood up to head to the bathroom, you paused, whirling around to see him give you a curious look.

“Sirius?” you said quietly.

“Yes, love?”

You held your breath, eyes shutting briefly. “Will you...stay?”

You could hear the smile in his voice when he asked, “Do you want me to?”

“I-- Yes,” you admitted, pulling at a loose thread of your shorts. “But only if you want to--”

“I want to.”

Your heart felt like it stopped beating when you saw the look on Sirius’ face as he caught your twiddling fingers between his steady ones.

“I want you to, also,” you said.

“Good.” He bowed his head and gave you a brief, but firm, kiss on the palm of your hand, smiling when he heard your sharp intake of breath. “Now go get ready for bed. I’ll be here when you get back.”

And he was.

Sirius was there that day, and the day after that when he asked you to be his girlfriend, and the day after that when your friends came to celebrate, and the days following that because--fuck it--he was finally yours. And you were finally his.

And you wouldn’t change it for the world.

That one drunk text message turned out to be the best accident of your life.

:DDDD (That’s my face and all my chins right now.)

[guylty]

Have you got your tickets for UV locked down? Maybe you are like me – tickets bought but not all other details finalised. Priorities, right? The most important consideration is to make sure we get to see RA on stage. Flight? Accommodation? Can be dealt with later. On the latter, I’ve had a few questions bts about hotel recommendations. Now, I do not want to presume better local knowledge than all the English/British fans. However, as a frequent visitor, and particular while I was still working for my London client, I was put up in hotel accommodation on many occasions. In that sense, I may have seen more London hotels than our actual London-based fan sisters *waves at Hariclea and tinyclanger and anyone else whom I am shamefully overlooking here* and can possibly make some recommendations.

A quick note on location and transport

My collection of Oyster Cards. Yes, I’ve had to buy several because I stupidly left mine at home… They give you a little wallet for safe-keeping when you buy yours.

All hotels are fairly centrally located – if you are a walker and do not mind 45 minutes walking, they would even be in walking distance of the city centre of London. Transport, on the whole, is not a problem in London. The tube is never far away. I recommend you buy a so-called Oyster Card upon arrival in London. This is a commuter card that you load credit onto. You can buy it at any (larger) tube station (ticket counter). You can get the £10 deposit back when you return the card before you leave London. You charge your card via the ticket machines located in every tube station. Paying for the tube is via flashing the card at the gates for entry and exit. A display at the gates will always tell you how much money you have left on your card. An Oyster card is a must, even if you only stay for three days. The difference in price between buying single tickets and using your automatic card credit, is significant: A single journey will set you back £4.90 whereas the Oyster card is £2.40!!! Also, the Oyster card has an automatic cap. That means you will pay a maximum of £8.20 (zones 1-3) versus single journeys or a daily travel card at £13.10 (zones 1-4)!!!

However, the best tip when it comes to London public transport, I received from local Hariclea: Bus fares are much cheaper than the tube. A single journey will set you back only £1.50. The daily cap for Oyster Card here is £4.50. So if you can, take the bus. Or walk, that is *my* personal tip. For a long time on my travels to London, I did everything by tube, thinking that London was a huge city and everything was very far apart. It took me 3 years to realise that Piccadilly Circus was only 250 meters away from Leicester Square! Doh. So make use of Google Maps and walk. You will be rewarded with a fantastic view of the city, too, because London treats you to a journey through all architectural ages in almost every street.

Fleet Street. From Tudor half-timbers to 1920s in 500 meters

Guylty’s Hotel Insights

I’ll give you a little review of all the hotels I have stayed at in the last four years. A caveat at the beginning. At least half of them were paid for by my client – and they didn’t skimp. I would not have paid £350 for a hotel room myself. My budget – even while still employed by them – would usually not stretch to that. However, I am including it here, too. Who knows, maybe you have a significant birthday/anniversary, or you want to treat yourself to an extraordinary London experience. Or maybe you just appreciate a lovely boutique hotel, just like I do. Where possible, I will add my own pictures – and occasionally even videos – for a little more insight into the hotel. Links to the hotel website under the name. In no particular order…

Pop!Thoza sneaks up on breakfast

The Rookery – my absolute favourite, but the above mentioned luxury option. Located in Farringdon, opposite Smithfield Market – a boutique hotel completely furnished with antiques and with every room looking different. Close to two tube stations, near the Barbican centre, too. It really looks like the photos on the website – or in my videos. Yep, I have three of them, just because the hotel was so beautiful, I had to document it every time. But I’ll only bore you with one of them. (If you want to you can see the other two if you click on my name on the video below!) This hotel has beautiful common rooms but no breakfast room. So if you want dinner, you need to eat elsewhere. Breakfast is available – but only served in your room. However, it was not any more expensive than in other hotels, and at the same time so good that I always set the alarm for two hours early so I could have long, leisurely breakfast in my fluffy bed before I went to work.   

https://vimeo.com/133549399

Purple light show. Not sure what mood *that* is…

Citizen M in Southwark (Bankside) is completely at the opposite end of the style spectrum. Ultramodern hotel. Every room has a kingsize bed (no single rooms available) and lots of tech gimmicks. Has a fantastic entertainment offer with wide screen TVs in every room. You can operate different lighting scenarios with an iPad in the room, and the blinds are automatically adjusted depending on whether you have set the room settings on “romantic” or “business” 🤣. Located behind the Tate Modern, but still very central. I loved this place and stayed there a couple of times privately, too – my son called it the “cyber hotel” and specifically asked me to book us in there when I gave him a trip to London as a gift. He (age 18 then) even shared the kingsize bed with me – that was the price for being in the cyber hotel… Buffet style breakfast is available in the hotels bar area. I loved the cool style and design of this hotel.

The Park Plaza County Hall is also situate d on the Southern bank of the Thames. I was upgraded to a suite there – with a separate sitting room and a small kitchenette. Comfortable, modern, light-filled rooms with floor-to-ceiling windows. The kitchenette would be really useful if staying for a few days and trying to budget a little bit because eating out in London is expensive. It doesn’t mean you have to cook – but just having a fridge for a pint of milk for your cornflakes in the morning, would already save you a good bit of money. I did like this one very much and remember making a little video – can’t find it anymore, unfortunately. It is part of the Radisson chain, so good quality.

I slept on top bed – wanted the “young” feel

Z Hotel City Another very modern hotel, centrally located in Fleet Street. The rooms are very modern, but also fairly small. I had a room that was billed as a “family” room with two double beds. But even though the room was tiny, they solved the problem really well: One double bed was like an enclosed alcove (fitted with a big TV) while the second double was built on top of the alcove and you accessed it via small steps. The second double also had a TV screen. The drawback was that the hotel did not offer breakfast, and even though it operated a café next door, it did not provide a discount to residents. However, as you can see from the photo, this kind of room would really lend itself to sharing if you are coming with a friend. Share the costs – still get privacy. And style, too.

        No real vines, that’s the graffiti on the wall!!

The Malmaison on Charterhouse Square. Another boutique hotel in Farringdon (like the Rookery above) (near Barbican), located on beautiful Charterhouse Square where you get London at its historic best: There is the eponymous Charterhouse from the 14th century, then there is Georgian architecture, the Victorian hotel building, and an Art Deco block of flats (which was used as location for Hercule Poirot’s flat in the Poirot TV series with David Suchet). Every room differently decorated – modern eclectic. The rooms were small but beautiful and all decorated differently. The first time I stayed there, I had an “inside” room with a kind of blind window into a lightwell. The room had really funky decoration with a graffiti-sprayed wall. Breakfast was not included but available in the basement restaurant – really nice, though.

        Glimpse of room on the right. Bathroom had massive dimensions. Wheelchair compatible

The Premier Inn County Hall is probably on the affordable end of the scale. Centrally located, directly behind the London Eye and more or less directly on the banks of the Thames. The rooms were not particularly cosy or original, but clean, light and big. Probably more on the practical side. Prices are pretty good for London – and for the location. Breakfast available in the hotel – nothing special, but good price.

          You can see what I had for breakfast

The Marlin Aparthotel was an affordable option when I took my mum to London last year. This hotel is fairly well connected, just behind Waterloo Station. In walking distance of the Old Vic Theatre and Westminster on the other side of the Thames. The rooms were bright and modern – and they came with a kitchenette. We ate breakfast in our own room every day and saved on another tenner for meals that way. This hotel is easily accessible by bus – which will also get transport costs down…

Lastly, The Grange Strathmore Hotel is the last hotel I stayed in when in London in April this year. The building is the former residence of the Earl of Strathmore (the Queen Mother’s father), and as such an imposing Victorian residence in a very pretty part of London. The room was small and looked out onto the mews at the back. Kensington is a very nice area for walking and looking at the grand white townhouses, but it’s not as central as the other hotels listed above. Also, I didn’t find the transport options quite as close as the other hotels.

So, here is an overview of the hotels and their relative location. It’s an interactive map – you can click on the markers and see which hotel it is.

That’s it for my own experience with hotels in central London. As I said – not necessarily the cheapest *thanks to my former employers*. I am sure there are other, if not better options available. If anyone has some recommendations, please add them in the comments! And for further questions – I’m delighted if I can answer, although I am sure that the resident Londoners are probably better equipped than I am.

Leaving you with a little London Lucas for good measure.

  Notes on Staying in London Have you got your tickets for UV locked down? Maybe you are like me - tickets bought but not all other details finalised.

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Teasing the Wolf

Summary: Sometimes all it takes is a little bit of incentive to get what you want...

Characters: Peter Hale x female reader

Words: 3,217

Warnings:  nsfw, smut, language

Author’s Note: This is my contribution to @bamby0304′s “Thirsty Thousand” challenge. My prompt was to use the phrase “Is that my shirt?” which I bolded when it appears in the story. Enjoy ;)

It was on a hot Friday afternoon that an underground water pipe had burst down the street, leaving all the buildings on your block dry as the Sahara. And, of course, you hadn’t discovered this lovely fact until after getting home from a long day at work. You had been fantasizing about a cool shower to unwind for the weekend and had nearly cried with frustration when turning the shower handle only emitted a few loud thumps and dry hisses from the pipes. A call to the water company confirmed your fears, as you were told by an obviously flustered mechanic that they “hoped to have things back up and running by Sunday.”

 Making a split-second decision, you had grabbed your keys, got in your car, and driven across town to the flat of none other than Peter Hale.

 Some may wonder why, out of all the members of Scott’s pack, you had chosen the metaphorical Big Bad Wolf. First off, Peter’s place was the closest in location to your apartment. Secondly, you had caught a glimpse of his shower the one time you had used his bathroom during a pack meeting a couple weeks ago, and it was the stuff dreams were made of. There was also a third reason, one you were less likely to freely admit...

 You had the hots for Peter. Major hots. Touch yourself to thoughts of him naked kinda hots.

 His appraisal was like a drug, and you were always itching for the next hit and resulting high that occurred every time he slid predatory eyes over you. His usually ice-cold gaze would ignite to sapphire flames, and you were certain that not only did he sense your lust, but that the attraction was reciprocated. Sadly, the moment never lasted long before he turned away. Distancing himself with a biting, dismissive comment, he’d break the moment and toss you back behind the frozen wall that he wrapped around himself like a security blanket. You had been debating for months how to chip away at him and unearth his wild side, how to make him lose control just long enough to unleash his desire on you. The thought of both his heated gaze juxtaposed by the coolness of his massive shower was a lethal combination, and you released a shaky breath when you arrived at his flat and knocked on the door.

 A few moments later and you were locking eyes with the former alpha. If he was surprised to see you on his doorstep, he didn’t show it. Cocking his hip against the door frame, he gave you a once over, taking in your grey pencil skirt, navy blouse, and sensible black heels. You tried not to shiver when his nostrils flared lightly, most likely picking up the aroma of sweat on your skin from the humid air. An eyebrow lifted in question when he saw the duffel bag over your shoulder, and you gave him a quick overview of your current dilemma.

 “The water doesn’t work in my apartment. Can I borrow your shower?”

 You held your breath in anticipation, hoping he wouldn’t just laugh and slam the door in your face. Instead, he looked at you intensely, seeming to deliberate his options for a long moment before opening the door further and gesturing you to enter. Giving a smile of thanks, you maneuvered past him and through the doorway. Your shoulder brushed against his broad, hard chest, sending tingles through your body.

 Rather than stand there awkwardly and try to make small talk, you darted across his apartment and through the bedroom to his bathroom, trying your best not to stare at the king-sized bed that dominated the space. The same bed where Peter had probably given various women the best night of their lives.

 Suddenly feeling overheated and in even more desperate need of a cool shower, you closed the bathroom door and pulled a towel and body wash out from your duffel bag before turning on the water. Piling your hair into a messy bun on top of your head so it wouldn't get wet, you stripped off your work clothes and stepped into the large shower.

 The water pressure was just right, and you gave a small groan of pleasure as the soothing stream poured down over your bare skin, relaxing tense muscles and washing away the sweat and stress of the day. You didn’t want to overstay your welcome and rack up his water bill, but still took your time soaping up your body and rinsing away the suds, letting your brain empty of all work-related thoughts and instead drift to images of Peter in this very spot, naked with eyes closed as he tilted his head back under the water. Tempting as it was to let your hand drift between your thighs, the last thing you needed was Peter’s supernatural hearing to pick up your sighs and moans as you pleasured yourself in his bathroom. No, if there were orgasms to be had in this apartment, they better come from the man himself, rather than fantasizing about him while he was two rooms away.

 Turning off the water, you dried off and reached for the shirt and gym shorts you had packed. However, you paused as a flash of inspiration hit. Maybe it was the steam fogging up your brain and relaxing your inhibitions, but you suddenly wanted to push the boundaries of your interactions with Peter. For once in your life you wanted to take the initiative, rather than sit back and wait in vain for him to make a move.

 Wrapping the fluffy towel around your torso, you quietly opened the bathroom door to make sure the coast was clear before entering his bedroom. A clink of dishes told you he was in the kitchen, so you walked over to his armoire and delicately opened the top drawer.

 Shit, those are socks. Not what I want.

 Closing it with a soft click, you went one drawer down, a smile curving your lips as you struck gold in the form of folded button-down shirts. Picking up a light blue one that was made of some fancy Egyptian cotton, you ran the soft fabric between your fingers and imagined it draped over Peter’s powerful chest and shoulders. Shrugging off the towel, you unfolded the shirt and slipped it up over your head, undoing the first few buttons so that it showcased the top curves of your breasts and some tantalizing cleavage. The hem ended at mid-thigh, and you debated for a few seconds before deciding to forego shorts or panties, since you’d quickly find out if this was a good idea or if you should immediately abort mission and find your own clothing.

 Heading back into the bathroom to fold the towel and place it on the counter beside the sink, you looked in the mirror. Taking your hair out of the bun and shaking your head so that the long locks spread out over your back and shoulders, you gave an internal pep talk. You can do this, what’s the worst that could happen?

 Well, Peter could be pissed at your presumptuousness, demanding that you put your own clothes back on and leave immediately. Which would subsequently cause an inability to ever meet his gaze again and a desire to melt through the floor from embarrassment every time you were forced to see him at future pack meetings.

 But no pressure or anything...

 With a deep breath, you exited the bathroom and passed through the bedroom. The living room was empty, meaning he was still in the kitchen. Trying to look casual and calm despite the pounding of your heart, you walked into the kitchen with head held high.

 The delicious smell of fresh caffeine drifted from the coffee maker on the counter. Peter was sitting at the little dining table, drinking from a mug and flipping through some car magazine. He glanced up in your direction as a quick greeting before looking back down at the magazine. Not even a second later you saw every muscle in his body freeze as he ever so slowly lifted his gaze again. It took some real effort not to grin at the dumbfounded look on his face as he took in your attire, or lack thereof.

 Clearing his throat, he asked in a voice that was huskier than usual, “Is that my shirt?”

 Afraid that you’d say something incredibly stupid, you ignored his question and padded across the tiles. Reaching up to open a cabinet and look for another coffee mug, you were well aware that the shirt lifted up the back of your thighs, inches away from showing your bare ass.

 You had just grabbed a mug and closed the cabinet when you felt a warm, hard body press up against the back of you. Holy shit, you hadn’t even heard him move.

 His breath ruffled the tendril of hair over your ear, and his voice raised goosebumps on the back of your neck. “You’re playing a dangerous game, little one.” With that, he pressed forward, causing a very sizable erection to press into your ass.

 Oh shit! You had wanted to get his attention, to stoke his desire. Well, you’d massively succeeded...pun intended. Now, the question was what you were going to do about it.

 Setting the mug down with shaky hands, you didn’t dare look back over your shoulder at him. If you saw his face right now, saw desire reflected in his eyes, you’d melt into a puddle on the floor. Before you could even brace your hands on the countertop to help steady your nerves, Peter reached around your body and grabbed your wrists, pinning them high above your head against the cabinets. The entire length of his body was pressed into yours, his voice rough as he whispered in your ear, “Don’t you know that it isn’t nice to tease the animals?”

 Letting instinct take over, you pushed your hips back and moved them back and forth slightly, grinding against him in a way that caused a small grunt to come from his throat.

 “Who says I’m only teasing?” You were surprised at how low and sultry your voice sounded.

 Those words did the trick. With a low command of, “Don’t move,” he released your wrists and dropped his large hands to grip your hips. Obediently keeping your own hands pressed to the cabinets, you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your panting, parted lips as he trailed calloused palms down the outer sides of your bare thighs before sliding them up under the hem of the shirt. He paused in shock at the discovery that you weren’t wearing anything underneath, a strangled growl your only warning before he spun you around and crashed his lips down onto your own.

 He left no doubt as to who was in charge, his teeth nipping your lower lip before his tongue thrust past your lips and staked its claim. You felt as though you couldn’t breathe, both his kisses and the feel of him pressing you into the counter making you dizzy with desire. You were burning up, and if he didn’t get his cock inside you soon, you might go up in flames. Your hands came down to his shoulders, one trailing up the back of his neck into soft, dark hair. The sensation of your nails scratching lightly at his scalp made him release a primal sound that shot lightning from your fingertips clear down to your toes.

 “Please,” you whimpered into his mouth.

 “Please what?” he purred, mouth moving down over your chin and biting at the underside of your jaw before latching onto the side of your neck in a way that made you see stars.

 “Oh god,” you exhaled with a soft moan. “Please, fuck me, Peter!”

 Your words seemed to release the last thread on his control, as he gave a snarl before grabbing the hem of the shirt and whipping it up over your head, leaving you completely naked. His eyes flashed supernatural cerulean as he took in your heaving breasts, the dip of your waist, the trembling thighs pressing together in an attempt to ease the ache between them.

 Pulling off his own shirt, you barely had time to appreciate the rippling, bulging muscles of his arms and chest before he placed his hands behind your thighs and lifted you off the floor. Your body reacted instinctively, legs wrapping around his waist and arms around his neck, as he claimed your mouth in another heated kiss while carrying you out of the kitchen and across the apartment.

 Your back hit the soft mattress as he pinned you down on his bed, hands running down over your body and mapping every curve. You arched into him when his palms cupped your breasts, strong fingers rolling your nipples until they were so hard they ached. When his mouth followed a few seconds later, you let out a cry of pleasure as he licked and sucked the sensitive tips while sliding one hand down between your thighs.

 He ran a finger along your slit, dipping in lightly and groaning at how wet you were for him. Gently sliding one, then two, then three fingers inside of you, he started up a steady rhythm, his mouth still at your breasts. He continued to fuck you with his thick digits until you were writhing beneath him and pleading wordlessly for more.

 You felt the rumble of his chuckle as he kissed his way back up your throat and whispered in your ear, “You ready for me, sweetheart?”

 A whine and welcoming spread of your thighs was the only response you were capable of at the moment, and you watched with passion-glazed eyes as Peter shoved his pants and underwear down his muscular thighs. You’d have found it humorous when he gave a frustrated kick to rid himself of the garments when they got stuck on his foot, but you were too focused on the deliciously thick and desire-darkened cock that was now pointed in your direction.

 You gave a squeal when strong hands flipped you over on your stomach before pulling you up onto your hands and knees. Surprise quickly dissolved back into need when he pressed warm hips up against your ass and slid his dick between your thighs. He rubbed the length up and down your pussy, bathing himself in the wetness until his cock was covered. Gripping the bedspread with white-knuckled fists, your head fell forward with a yell when he lined himself up to your heat and entered with one long thrust. The slight burn as your walls stretched around him made you feel alive, every nerve ending on high alert so that you felt him all through your body, filling more than just your cunt.

 “Fuck, yes!” you praised when he pulled back slowly only to then slam forward so that hard that his balls bounced off your clit with a slap.

 Giving a growl in response, he did it again, his thrusts rough and powerful and exactly what you needed. It wasn’t more than a few minutes before you felt muscles tense up then release as the orgasm hit you, causing you to moan and tremble. Peter swore as you contracted around him, continuing to pound you through the waves of pleasure until your over-sensitized flesh couldn’t take anymore. You tried to crawl forward, tried to get a bit of space to breathe and let your body settle.

 Peter was having none of it, his hands pulling you back as he continued his thrusts. Your arms gave out and you fell to your elbows on the bed, crying out with each thrust as the intense pleasure-pain made your toes curl and eyes flutter closed.

 “You’re going to come for me again,” he said through clenched teeth, obviously struggling to hold off his own orgasm.

 Shaking your head back and forth with a sob, you felt overwhelmed by the sensations and were certain that there was no way your body could survive another explosive orgasm.

 “Don’t you shake your head at me, little one. You will,” he growled.

 Suddenly your upper body was pulled up and back, so that both of you were on your knees, chest to back. One strong forearm locked around the front of your neck while his free hand trailed down your body, tweaking your nipples roughly before delving lower to find your clit.

 Black spots clouded the edge of your vision as he rubbed fast circles which, coupled with his hard thrusts, pushed your body back up to the edge. You were babbling incoherently, both of you grunting like animals as the wet sounds of your fucking filled the room.

 “Come...I’m gonna...fuck!” you screamed as an even more powerful orgasm crashed over you, causing you to convulse against his hold. He gave his own cry as your pussy milked the orgasm out of him. Sharp teeth sunk into your shoulder and the arm around your neck tightened to hold you in place, hips twitching as he filled you with hot cum. Both of you collapsed forward into the mattress, and you welcomed Peter’s heavy weight pinning you down, not yet wanting to break contact and shatter the euphoric moment.

 When your bodies had stopped quivering with aftershocks, he gently pulled out and rolled over onto his back beside you on the bed. You both stared up at the ceiling, matching satisfied grins on your faces. You couldn’t believe your plan to seduce him had been so effective, and that the reality of fucking Peter Hale had been even better than the fantasy.

 “You should steal my shirts more often; you look way better in ‘em than I do,” he husked, still a little winded.

 You laughed at his teasing and turned your head to make eye contact with him before saucily replying, “I’ll do that. Especially since you look better without them.”

 A sexy glint lit up his gaze. “Is that so?” he asked with a playful growl, grabbing you by the waist and pulling until you were splayed on top of him, thighs straddling his hips. “And how long will you also be stealing my shower?”

 Tracing lazy patterns across the hard planes of his chest, you replied, “They’re supposedly fixing everything by Sunday.” Glancing up at him from underneath your lashes, you added, “Does this mean I can use yours until then?”

 He reached down to palm your ass and pressed his hips up into you. Eyes widened with surprise when you realized his cock was already starting to get hard again. “I think we can arrange that, but only on one condition.”

 “What’s that?” you asked with a soft moan, grinding down against him and thinking that he could ask for just about anything right now and you’d readily agree.

 He flashed sharp white teeth in a smirk that caused heat to pool between your thighs. “Next time you’re in there, I get to join you.”

 “Deal,” you sighed. That was your last intelligent response for a long time, as Peter flipped you back over onto the mattress and proceeded to use his mouth and body to give you the best night of your life.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Teen Wolf Tag List:  @jessixsweetxlove @despoina-nt @megmeg-chan @bratty-sweetheart

Forever Tag List (bolded wouldn’t tag):   @hannibalssweaters @strangersangel9 @bamby0304 @mamapeterson @wheresthekillswitch @ericuhlorain @badsongwinchester @foofyschmoofer @magpiegirl80 @efeysa @peachtickler69 @supernaturally-lucky @favs-imagines @winmommy @multireality @twdncgan @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @yuuki1000may @crzcorgi @rapsity @sunriserose1023 @breakfast-of-a-teenage-killer @heartfulloffandoms @superwholoki @winchesterswoonathon @is-this-you-manning-up-sammy @vizhi0n @kellyn1604 @embracetheapocalypsewithme @noodlecupcakes @backseat-negan @opheliadawnwalker3 @superprincesspea @squid-from-mirkwood @beltz2016 @tbkc @starrdustkitten @the--aviator @purplemuses-blog @letsby

[hnd1bphoto-geraldmcmillan]

Seeing the Light

“Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.” - Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man.

Well that’s one way of looking at it, although arguably this is a re-working of that passage in The Book of Genesis when it reports that God said “Let there be light”, as previously there had been darkness upon the earth, and, by definition, darkness must have been there first.

The light that we see by, similar to the air that we breathe, is probably taken for granted by the majority of the people all over the world.  “Light” as a topic for study, can be as complicated or as simple as you want/need it to be. Most people will not be aware, I don’t believe, that visible light from the sun is part of the electro-magnetic spectrum that has wavelength of between about 380-700 nanometres.  What’s a nanometre? Well, it’s 1 x10^-9 of a metre, which doesn’t give me much of a handle as to how small that is, but a nanometre can also be described as a millionth of a millimetre.  That wavelength range covers what is described as white light, but as depicted very nicely by the cover of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon famous album of the 1970’s, all the colours of the rainbow are contained within that white light. White light is dispersed as it passes through a prism (or water droplets in the sky) into its 7 colour components by a process called refraction (in effect “bending”).  The shorter wavelength (violet-end) component of white light is refracted most when passing through the prism and the longest wavelength red light component is refracted least.  Proof of this is directly demonstrated by a rainbow – the inner and more curved colours of the rainbow arch are blue and violet and the outer colours are red and orange.

The three primary colours of visible light are often quoted to be red, green and blue. (Google it if you don’t believe me). However a contributor to the website Photography Stack Exchange comments that “There are no primary colors (sic) of light, in fact there is no color intrinsic in light at all (or any other wavelength of electromagnetic radiation). There are only colors in the perception of certain wavelengths of EMR by our eye/brain systems.”  (But what beauty lies within the range of our visual perceptions through our eye/brain systems interactions – for those of us lucky enough to have sight). Of course I don’t disagree with the above point of information; however it is possibly at a level of detail beyond the scope of this blog.  I’ve often thought it strange that we don’t actually see light, but only how it interacts with (e.g. is reflected from) other objects – or rather, only how we perceive how light interacts with other objects.  But stepping back from physiological and biological considerations, red green and blue light when combined also make white light. Objects appear coloured when they reflect preferentially the wavelength of the colour that we perceive. A green apple appears green because it reflects the wavelength of green light preferentially to other wavelengths of different colours. It is the same for other coloured objects. Furthermore an object appears white when all the colours of the spectrum are reflected and black when no colours are reflected.  

Without light, there would be no photography. There would also not be many other things - like life for example, but as this blog is about photography, I’ll stick with that. The blog brief asks the student to harness natural light to produce a variety of portraits, modifying the light as required by means of flags, reflectors and diffusers as required.  The brief overview also comments that natural daylight is not constant, which from a geographic/meteorological consideration applying to Scotland, has to make it a contender for understatement of the year. But in all seriousness, the quality of light is heavily dependent on the time of day, the season, the atmospheric conditions e.g. the degree of cloud cover etc., and this will affect the options to best photograph a chosen subject.   The quality of light in this context, according to John McIntire at Digital Photography School (website), “has nothing to do with whether light is good or bad. The word quality refers to the physical properties, traits, or characteristics of the light. These properties include the softness or hardness, the shape, the color, and the intensity of the light.”

In order to help optimise natural sunlight for photographic purposes, certain methods and tools are available. Some of these include:

Flag: A tool used to control light. At the most basic level, flags are anything that can used to block or cut light from anywhere it isn’t wanted. Closing a blind or a curtain to block glare from a television screen is an example of using a flag. Another example would be the sun visor in your car. (John McIntire at Digital Photography School).

Reflector: As the name suggests, quite simply a tool to reflect light. For portrait work in natural light, reflectors can be used to lighten heavy shadows which might be cast if the light is hard and to one side of the subject.  However, as John McIntire comments, “softness and hardness are affected by the apparent size of your light source. If you move your reflector closer to your subject, you get softer light. If you take it further back, you get harder light. The same applies to different sized reflectors. A larger reflector, at the same distance from the subject as a smaller one, will produce softer light, while the smaller one (in the same position) will produce harder light.”    

(The above website gives a very good example of the optimization of a small-scale photo-shoot setup using flags and reflectors.)

Diffuser: any medium that reduces the intensity or harshness of light and results in a softening effect. Soft light creates gentle illumination and softer shadows.  Cloud cover is a natural diffuser of sunlight that I truly believe we are all too familiar with in Scotland.  Artificial diffusers tend to be translucent rather than transparent in nature.

The website tips-and-hints section details how to use a 5-in-1 reflector set comprising of white/silver/ gold/black (flag) /diffuser media which I considered to be quite useful.

The class had a practical try-out on 10/09/19 of the use of reflectors in support of this brief, however, from a personal point of view, without much success, if I’m honest, as detailed below. (The light conditions weren’t ideal, I didn’t think, as there was constantly –changing levels of sunlight due to intermittent cloud cover.)

The above used a gold reflector which I thought gave an unflattering colour cast which I considered rendered the subject more than a little bit jaundiced!  There is also a noticeable drop-off of light (or a heavy shadow cast) on the left-hand side of the image, which as well as being undesirable aesthetically, makes it look as if the subject is about to be attacked! The inevitable conclusion is that the composition of the shot is poor.

A silver reflector next tried I thought rendered a washed-out effect. In my defence, I was using a college camera that I was unfamiliar with, but I did think I had the exposure correct, according to the camera metering. Also this was my second day of starting the HND course, I was still settling-in, becoming acquainted with my classmates and was not entirely at ease, so, even with my best intentions, it’s probably more than likely that my shots were a bit rushed and not properly thought through. (That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it!).  But, I accept 100% - “could do better”.

Going out on the street to shoot strangers was something that I thought I could do no problem, but it was much more difficult than I thought.  I probably missed the chance to perhaps photograph some interesting characters simply because I could not bring myself to ask.  But I did try, I did ask, and while I got mainly refusals, a few folk agreed.

The above photograph is of a workman, who was trying to get into a close to carry out some repair work for a tenant in the Govanhill area. The street was actually in shadow, but reflected sunlight from a window in the opposite row of tenements gave good (I think!) illumination.

The above two photographs were taken at Dumbreck railway station whilst waiting for a train! (A bit rushed!)

The above photograph was shot in natural light subjected to diffused transmission by semi-opaque glass roof.  Soft shadows were cast by roof beams acting like flags, partially blocking the transmitted light, and I positioned the model so that the light fell on her eyes.

(This blog still a soon-to-be-completed-work-in-progress!)

[thetraveljedi]

Trip Report Chapter 1: Days 1-4, Amsterdam and Kinderdijk, Netherlands

Days 1-4: Amsterdam, Netherlands

I’ve finally arrived in Amsterdam for my next adventure: 17 days exploring the Netherlands, Germany, Austria, and Hungary, 15 day of them aboard the Viking Mimir for a river cruise. I extended my trip to enjoy some extra time in Amsterdam, and I’m so happy I did- there’s so much to see there!

I arrived early in the morning and checked my bags at the Hotel Pulitzer, which I booked through Viking. I loved the hotel. Situated in several historic canal houses in the quieter Jordaan neighborhood, it was close to everything to see in Amsterdam while still being a peaceful respite after a long day of touring. I also really enjoyed the fact that that each room provided a brief history of the particular canal house you were staying in; I stayed in a silk merchant’s house. I love anything history, but this provided a nice personal touch to the hotel room you occupied.

I started my first day as I do with all of my extended stays in cities; very little actual planned sites, and a lot of walking around and getting a feel for the city. I began at Amsterdam Centraal, the major train station of Amsterdam at the north end of the historic town center. Many people arrive to Amsterdam through this station, and it’s truly a work of beauty. From there I wandered down to the Royal Palace and the Amsterdam Museum. The Royal Palace was a lovely way to get insight into the Dutch Royal Family, while the Amsterdam Museum gave a thorough overview of the history of the city of Amsterdam and its place in the history of the Netherlands. I also walked briefly through De Wallen, aka the Red Light District, mostly because it’s the oldest neighborhood in Amsterdam and the home of the oldest church, Oude Kerk. Maybe it was because it was the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday. when I was there, but I thought it was pretty tame. I saw some windows with women showing off for potential customers, but that was about it.

The Amsterdam Museum and Royal Palace

For dinner, I chose to eat at Envy based on a recommendation from a friend who had been to Amsterdam. Because this was going to be the one “splurge” dinner of my trip, I went all out and did the Chef’s Table, an 8 course tasting menu. I’m going to write a separate entry about the experience, because it was that good, and surprisingly inexpensive.

The next day, I started bright and early at the Anne Frank House. I reserved this ticket back in April for June, and I highly recommend doing the same; tickets go on sale 60 days in advance and they sell out pretty quickly, especially during peak tourist times like the summer. I happened to be there on the 75th anniversary of D-Day, which I didn’t realize until reading the text accompanying an exhibit showing where Anne’s father Otto documented the Allied forces advances into German-Occupied Europe. I grew up reading Anne’s diary and seeing the house really helped me visualize and feel her story on a whole new level. I left feeling very sad about Anne’s fate, along with the rest of victims of World War II, but very grateful to her for keeping such a thoughtful recollection of her experience. It’s through reading these accounts that we truly materialize that what happened during World War II must never happen again.

I spent the rest of my day looking at some exquisite Dutch art, first through Rembrandt and Vermeer’s eyes at the Rijksmuseum- which has two delicious cafes, by the way- and then at the Van Gogh Museum. Van Gogh is a favorite of mine and I’ve seen a lot of his art at various art museums throughout the world, but hearing details about his life and seeing a timeline of it through is art was truly the most unique and fulfilling Van Gogh art experience I’ve ever had. I left feeling like I understood one of my favorite artists more than I ever had before.

I knew I wanted to do a canal boat cruise during my time in Amsterdam, and I recommend all visitors of the city do the same, but I wanted to do an evening experience in a smaller group with a less formal and touristy atmosphere. I was so thrilled to discover Those Dam Boat Guys and see all the positive reviews, and even more so that they lived up to the hype. I had been chugging down endless amounts of Dutch history, but hadn’t spent any time relaxing and enjoying the scenery. This allowed me to do just that, while also learning more about the amazing city of Amsterdam.

The beautiful canals of Amsterdam

The next day, I was due to check in for my Viking River Cruise, so I got up early and headed to the Waterloopein district of Amsterdam to see what I think was my favorite history-related museum in Amsterdam- the Verzetsmusuem, aka the Dutch Resistance Museum. Like most of the rest of Europe, Germany took over the Netherlands during World War II, but in true Dutch spirit, much of the people of the Netherlands resisted their Occupiers demands, while others feared they awaited the same fate of the Nazi’s persecuted populations if they did not conform. This museum does a great job of portraying both facets of Dutch life during this time period, while also providing some personal stories and memories of Nazi-Occupied Netherlands.

After the Verzetsmuseum, I visited some of the other important Jewish historical sites of Amsterdam that are nearby; the Jewish Historical Museum, which is the house of the “New” Great Synagogue, and the Portuguese (Sephardic) Synagogue. Not only were both synagogues beautiful, and a welcome site after seeing such a vast amount of churches in Europe (all beautiful of course but plentiful compared to remaining synagogues), but the museum excellently details the rich and later sad history of Jews in Amsterdam.

The Portuguese Synagogue

After an amazing day of learning, at 3:30pm it was time to meet the transfer to the cruise ship at the hotel and board the Viking Mimir. I was expecting the long process of embarkation you see on ocean cruises, but I walked right onto the boat and checked in rather quickly. My stateroom was ready, my luggage brought down quickly, and I was unpacked and eating dinner in no time. We also had some time to say goodbye to Amsterdam before disembarking for the night, so I was able to go watch some football/soccer before heading out. I was especially grateful for that given the lack of the video streaming the Internet, and no places to watch sports on board (even the one sports channel on our TV didn’t work) during the Women’s World Cup.

I had to be up early the next morning for the Viking Mimir’s stop in Kinderdijk, Netherlands. As a big fan of cheese, I chose to do the optional excursion that included not only a tour of Kinderdijk’s UNESCO-protected Windmills but also a visit to a Dutch cheese farm. I’m so happy I did this particular excursion, because I got to see more of the incredible country that is the Netherlands and see and taste some amazing cheese.

We boarded the boat on the earlier side in the afternoon, cruising along the Waal River in the Netherlands and crossing the border into the Rhine River of Germany during dinner, surrounded by cows, horses, and sheep enjoying their own dinner of grass along the river banks.

So far I’m really impressed with Viking and the River Cruise experience- I’ll be writing about that experience separately, and will include lots of tips to maximize your river cruising experience.

Next up: Köln (Cologne), Germany and the Romantic Rhine! Stay tuned for more from my trip!