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kurara-black-blog · 7 years ago

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Needed

Date:11/08/18

Words: 2627

Warnings: Langst, Lancelot, this is a sequel of Taste. It’s basically the same fic, but on Lance’s POV.

Tag: @moonsworllld ; @some-lost-meme-boi (requested to be tagged, so here it is!)

Purring. Lotor was purring and he couldn’t help it. Not when that boy was standing there looking delicious. Mouth-watering. Like he usually did when his emperor didn’t pay enough attention to him. Lance could hear the purring, he wanted so badly to go over there and touch his lover’s chest, feel that rumbling under his fingers, kiss those intoxicating lips. The ex-hero closed his eyes—he had patience—and started remembering.

Lance had pretty good instincts and a very observant mind. He could understand anyone, he could see what they were trying to hide, and he could judge their character. All in a few minutes. He was suspicious by default because of that, but after years of hearing his mother tell him everyone had the right to be trusted until proven contrary, he learned to control his suspicion. Maybe he should not had. While it was easier to make friends that way, he was always at risk of having that trust betrayed, that fiasco with Nyma and the whole adventure with the merfolk were enough proof.

Nevertheless, mama asked him to, so he lived by his mother’s words. Not saying anything when a little voice in his head told him Pidge wasn’t what he said he was. Not saying anything when that same voice screamed to him how that man was anything but their Shiro, no matter how similar they looked or acted. Not doing anything when Allura decided Lotor was worthy of her love, even if that voice sobbed and cried how that man didn’t felt right by her side, how the supposed feelings Lotor had for the princess looked so obviously fake to the paladin’s eyes.

That ability made easier for him to see when he was wanted. Like when Pidge smiled softly when he joked about robots, when Hunk made sure he was the first to taste his inventions, when Keith specifically asked him for a sparring session, when Shiro gave him a “good work” pat on the back, when Allura unconsciously thanked him for the distraction his silly flirtation brought with her eyes, when Coran made his eccentrics gestures to tell Lance he was glad for the help with cleaning the castle.

But it also made easier for him to see when he wasn’t. Pidge told him to shut up and let her work multiple times when he tried to talk instead of joking. Hunk brushed off his attempts to talk about his thoughts, too focused on whatever he was tinkering with. Keith had a whole organization to choose for a sparring section, he could ask literally anyone, no need to choose. Shiro was colder than before, that man truly wasn’t Lance’s hero and the boy himself decided to avoid him. Allura was rejecting him more harshly, he had the suspicion it was because of Lotor. Coran thankfully was still Coran, just busier, always looking ways to excuse himself from any conversation.

Overall, that ability only made him notice quicker when he wasn’t needed. And it hurt.

Another skill he had was acting. He was very good at it, so it was quite easy for him to put on a happy mask and let things happen. Because if he wasn’t needed, it was one less need his teammates would have. It was one less weakness to drag them down. Because if he wasn’t needed, he wasn’t important. If he wasn’t important, anything could happen to him and they wouldn’t crumble.

So Lance let the half-truth do its thing, let they believe everything was alright and the he was not hurting.

Lance hated Lotor for some time. First because of suspicion, then because of Allura. Lotor did not look right on the princess side. He seemed so bored every time she turned her back, as if he couldn’t wait for Coran to take her away to do something in the depths of the Castle of Lions. No matter how much he smiled and how sweet his words were, there was no interest in his eyes. Maybe for the information Allura had, never for Allura. Of course, the others thought it was jealousy when Lance tried to talk about it. It wasn’t, but they couldn’t see more than their eyes and pre-made conclusions let them.

When Lotor started helping around, Lance was even more suspicious. Part of him was worried about his family, other part of him was worried they would replace him with the alien. A small part of him asked him if he really could call them family. Lance ignored that last part like the team ignored him. Lotor gained Pidge and Hunk’s trust first, tech and food, no surprise there. Coran and Shiro were a more tricky, both men already familiar with war and fighting for survival. Ironically, that was exactly what made them fall for Lotor’s charms. Sympathy of someone who has been watching it all directly, the paladin guessed.

Allura was already a lost cause. Jealousy and suspicion accompanied the Cuban. He didn’t say anything—she wouldn’t listen—, of course, she was free to give her heart to anyone, even if said bastard had no interest in it. Lance kept an eye on them anyway, he didn’t want her to hurt—he understood of heartbreak a little too much—when his suspicions were proved right.

Lance was very distant from the galra prince and was determined on staying that way.

Sadly, Lotor didn’t had the same idea. One night, while Lance was trying to relax and not cry by remembering his family on the pool, the alien decided to approach. The paladin recognized his footsteps; he had decorated the sound of the footsteps of each of the castle's inhabitants. To pass the time, he liked to close his eyes and try to guess who is going where. Lance could even hear the mice going around inside the castle’s walls.

Lance had nowhere to run, considering the prince’s footsteps, he had stopped in the way of the door. When the other took too long to talk, the boy decided to take matters on his own hands.

“And what do you want, prince?”

“Good night, paladin. Why are you here at this hour?”

“None of your business.”

Hostility was a useful shield, the paladin reminded himself. He wished nothing more than to be alone, and was considering telling the man some lie about Allura needing comforting at night, anything really, to make him leave. Allura would be please anyways to see her supposed suitor again.

“It must be hard for you, paladin. To do so much and be so little recognized, I mean.”

Blue eyes snapped open, staring at the white-haired alien. Full attention. Lotor was searching for something, Lance could see easily. Easily. Lotor wanted the boy to see it. To see his intentions. To see him. For a moment, the hero’s lungs couldn’t held any air.

“Have Allura ever thanked you for your attempts of cheering her up? Or have Shiro ever told you how well you do on missions? Have Pidge commented on your intelligence at least once? Have Hunk offered a hug after a rough day?”

His breath quickened. No, Allura hadn’t. He wasn’t even sure he had actually cheered her up. No, Shiro hadn’t. He saw the paladin congratulate Pidge and Hunk though. No, Pidge hadn’t. He was pretty sure she actually called him dumb at one point. No, Hunk hadn’t. He saw Coran gain one, though.

“Shut up…”

“Have Keith told you how much he cares?”

No, Keith didn’t. He hadn’t seen the other boy for a long time. Not because he didn’t try to, it is difficult to make a knot when one end is not there.

“Shut up.”

“Have any of them remembered you of how much you’re necessary?”

No, they didn’t. He wasn’t.

“Shut up!”

Rage. Tears. There was that small part of him, the voice questioning his team, the voice harshly asking him if he really could call them his family. In a few words, Lotor gave that voice enough strength to scream those questions. Lance couldn’t ignore them anymore, he couldn’t lie anymore. He was so tired. He was so hurt.

“I don’t need you to rub salt in it.”

He was so tired of hurting.

“I’m not rubbing anything in your injuries, paladin. I am truly concerned about the neglect you seem to suffer.”

“Why?” Voice wavering, he was cracking more. Lotor should have felt pleased, but he didn’t and that puzzled the human. Why did that bastard look so angered? And why that anger wasn’t directed him?

Why was Lotor letting Lance see him so thoroughly? Why was he being so sincere? Why Lance could see every truth that came out of those lips?

“You, paladin… Lance.” Said boy widened his eyes, tears falling on the pool. The galra looked ready to destroy something. “Lance, I see you as someone of unspeakable value.” Truth. “I see you as a jewel, a rare and unequaled jewel.” Also a truth. “I just want to be close to you and… Bask in this otherworldly feeling you bring.” Half-truth, but instead of sounding the suspicion alarms, it made the Cuban’s heart jump. It was a half-truth told with no harmful intention. Why?

Silence took place for a few minutes. The man turned to leave; probably thinking the paladin rejected him. Said paladin panicked for a second. He didn’t want to be alone. Swimming to the edge, Lance called for the alien, surprised by his own voice. It sounded so hurt, so small, so unsure. So different from the usual joyful tone. So distant from the confident tone he always tried to give it.

“What feelings?”

Lotor didn’t turn, but did he want to. The boy could see it. Could see the why too. In that moment, the Cuban boy had total power over the prince. Power given willingly. That man was giving one of his most prized possessions, his very own heart, to a mere human. A mere human that could destroy him with some few sentences. A mere human who had detested him from the very beginning. A mere human.

“I love you.” Truth.

A gasp left his lips.

“Why?”

He had to know.

“You are you, I need no other reason.” Truth.

Leaving the pool, he stood right behind the man confessing to him.

“I don’t believe you.”

A heartbeat skipped. He couldn’t believe himself either. He couldn’t believe how much he wanted to give the man a chance.

“Let me make you believe, then.” Proposal.

A slow breath intake. There was so much in the man’s voice. Made his head spin. Made his heart full.

“Is that what you want?”

A love struck sigh came from the prince. Lance knew those very well.

“More than anything.” Truth.

A hand touching Lotor’s back hesitantly. At least his heart wasn’t the only one beating a samba.

“I am very broken.”

A warning, an insecurity, a shameful admission.

“So am I.” Truth.

A tired chuckle left his lips. He was so tired of hurting; healing seemed somewhat impossible. He was so tired of hurting, a bit more pain wouldn’t change that if things didn’t work.

“You better not let me forget you love me, Lotor.”

A plead.

“I’ll remind you every minute we have together, my beloved jewel.”

Hugging the prince, Lance felt appreciated. Safe. Warm. Lotor was making him feel like a rarity. He felt needed. And he loved it. The galra arms were rapidly taking first place in his list of safe places to be. Lance didn’t want to let go.

They decided to keep it a secret to the others; they would have time to tell them after everything was settled. Lance was floating in a cloud of bliss. He still could not believe that alien was his. His. Lotor was his. Lotor wanted him. Lotor needed him. Lotor chose him. Lotor was his. He was Lotor’s. All the secret smiles, all the playful looks, all the insinuating puns. The jealousy had changed; Allura was the one too close, the one being too touchy, the one being too friendly. She looked wrong by Lotor’s side. Lance was possessive, he never denied himself of that knowledge, jealousy flaring when someone else stayed too close for too long. The prince seemed to have no problem with that. Good, Lance wasn’t ready to share his man with anyone.

They took small steps, Lance was still cautious. As people with broken hearts are. He opened up little by little; glad the prince was willing to wait for him even when Lance could see how much said prince wanted to pry. Lotor was willing to stay by his side and wait for him. Lotor was willing to open up to him. Why wouldn’t he? Lotor needed him. Lotor loved him. Him. Not Allura. Lance. Lotor loved Lance and had no shame on showing how much. They opened completely to each other, they bonded so strongly they could feel each change of emotions the other had. They could understand each other more than the universe in its vastness could.

Lotor needed him. Lotor loved him.

Moreover, it took some time, but in the end, Lance could confidently say he needed Lotor too. He loved Lotor too.

“Loyalty, my universe, is not only that should be mutual, it should be earned.”

“I trust them with my life.”

“Would they do the same?”

Silence. They wouldn’t because they didn’t need him. They had each other. They could go on without him.

“I would. I would give you a gun and let you make the decision; my life is yours to take.”

“Spend it with me; that would be enough.”

“As you wish, my pretty.”

He couldn’t let Lotor sleep before telling him one more truth.

“My life is yours to keep.”

“I will. Until this universe and the next are no more.”

The first kiss came after a particularly tiring mission. Lotor didn’t waste no time, he was suddenly on his paladin’s room, giving the boy the kiss of their lives. And the nigh of their lives. Lance looked at him with so much affection, so much pride, so much desire. Lance touched him with so much reverence, so much consideration, so much care. Lance whispering “I love you” and so many sweet words with so much need in his voice was something he was easily addicted to. Lotor prayed to whatever deity—human, galra and altean—to not let him wake up and see it was all a dream, he begged the universe to take pity in his lovesick heart and let him be with his lover, his boy.

It wasn’t. Lance woke up feeling warm and content, the smile on his beloved’s face enough to fill his now fixed heart with so much adoration it overflowed in the form of warm happy tears.

The loud purr of his emperor made Lance get out of his daydreams. He knew that face, closed eyes and sweet smile, Lotor was remembering good things.

“What are you thinking about to smile do fondly, my emperor?”

Lotor opened his eyes to stare at him. With an arm, he brought Lance closer until he had the human sitting in his lap. The man did not waste time on snuggling in his lover’s neck.

“You, my precious jewel.”

“Yeah?”

“And the faces of Voltron when you betrayed them.” A sly smile lazily formed on Lance’s face. His handsome leader looked sinfully good when smirking.

“You can’t betray someone you’re not loyal to, my everything.”

If someone doesn’t need you, you shouldn’t need that someone; it’ll lead only to heartbreak. With a long kiss, Lance thanked the deities it only took him eighteen years of his life to find someone who needed him.

#voltron #voltron lance #lance mcclain #vld lance #vld lotor #lance x lotor #lancelot #lotance #voltron shiro #keith kogane #allura #vld coran #hunk garrett #vld pidge #langst #laugst #Clara writes

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unholyhelbig · 2 years ago

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It is the Christmas season... if you want to gift us with more Kate x Reader?

[A/n: Of course I do! Truthfully, this whole universe was the first thing that I wrote that was Kate x Reader, and holds a special place in my heart. Happy Holidays, there is more to come!]

Title: Just Like the Ones We Used to Know

Summary: It's been three years since your disastrous plot to bring a fake girlfriend to the family Christmas. Not much good came out of the endeavor, but you did manage to get the girl. What happens when your estranged family makes a second appearance, disrupting your life with your found one?

This is a Sequel, Read "I'll Be Home For Christmas" Here

When you first saw Clara, you didn’t recognize her. There was a cold feeling of familiarity that hung in the air before your mind caught up with the shock of the situation. Three years. It had been three years since you watched her fade into a small speck in the snow in the rearview mirror. Your fingers had gone numb, just as they did now.

You stood behind the mahogany counter and squinted over the stacks of books before cracking a random one open down the center and covering the heat in your cheeks with words not registering. Fuck- this city was massive and bustling and of course, your older sister chose to walk into your bookstore.

Thankfully, her husband wasn’t around, or at least not where you could see him. Steven struck you as the type of man to wait outside while the December air chilled him to the bone instead of picking up anything remotely interesting, or at least, following his wife like a dog on a lead.

“How to Raise Children Who Aren’t Assholes? Darling, is there something you’re not telling me?” Kate cocked her head in an odd way to read the title. It was, in fact, upside down, and the least of your concerns.

She had brought in a wintery blast of air with her, cheeks blushed with the elements. Kate held two cups of coffee from the café next door, hers a straight black and yours overloaded with cream and sugar that would end up hurting your stomach later. Kate kissed your cheek as she handed it off, nose frigid.

“Clara is here.”

“What?”

She pulled back and scoured the shelves. You set the book back down on in its rightful place and used your hand to grab her chin and focus her attention back on you. “don’t look.”

“You do realize if she buys something, one of us will have to check her out?”

Curse Kate Bishop and her sound logic. You had sent Cassie home early. It was so close to Christmas and the day had gone by slowly, but steadfastly. You had kept yourself busy with each customer and Kate had let out strings of curses as she struggled to wrap the books purchased. She finally gave up and conceded to a coffee run when disaster struck.

“What are the chances she won’t recognize me?”

“You came from the same womb, so slim.” Kate frowned as Clara scrutinized the cookbooks, hugging her designer bag close. “Me, on the other hand.”

You shook your head, “Uh-uh, babe. Clara is the definition of mean girl. Three years isn’t enough to bury her hatred for the stranger that crashed Christmas.”

Storming out of your Politian parents’ home on the biggest day of the year hadn’t been the best move in hindsight. But the more time that passed, the more comfortable you felt about cutting them out of your life and welcoming Kate into it with such open arms.

The two of you spent every major holiday with Garrett and Noelle, who were on their way to having a little girl. That would make three, squirming kids that you’d happily cart around and change diapers for. You’d eaten Thanksgiving dinner in their suburban ranch-style home after watching the Macy’s Day Parade with Kate’s adoptive father and his family.

You had found your own way these past three years, though there were some rough patches. Your first novel was a hard sell but was eventually picked up by a small indie publishing company before they were bought out by a bigger one that ordered three more books in the series.

It was Kate’s idea to open up a bookstore, and when this place went up for sale with a full stock of literature, it was hard to refuse the offer. In the mornings you worked on your manuscript and spent your evenings running the shop. Kate would pop in between meetings at Bishop Security, which had fallen into her lap after some distasteful business practices from her mother, who you had met only once.

Clint and Laura were Kate’s salvation, and in some ways, yours too. They showed you how a family was supposed to be, and showed both of you that it was okay to love and trust and make mistakes as long as you figured things out together.

Clara was not in the cards this year. Clara was never in the cards, and it had been so easy to avoid her up until this point. From your vantage point in the parenting section, she looked relatively harmless.

“Maybe she’ll leave without buying anything.” Kate suggested, “We can hide out here until we hear the bell above the door.”

“Right, yeah, okay.” You took in a deep breath and ran your finger over the spine of a home-childbirth book. “This is why you’re the brains of this operation.”

Kate scoffed with a charming smile. A bell rang, and unfortunately, it wasn’t the one that was above the door. There was no chill from the winter air or the scent of day-old scones from the café next door. It was the tiny silver bell that was situated at the front of the store. A little handwritten sign sat next to it: Probably shelving, Please Ring for Assistance!

You and Kate gave each other a wide-eyed look as you soaked in the realization that you would, in fact, have to interact with your sister. You whispered (You go, no, you go) hastily to each other, both shoving forward before you popped out of the aisle of books, looking disheveled.

Kate straightened first, smoothing down her sweater with a solid smile. You were a little late to recover, pulling awkwardly at the forest-green apron filled with price stickers and decorated with cheesy holiday pins.

Clara lifted a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at you, lilting her head to the side. “Little sister,”

Hearing her voice after all this time sent a chill down to the base of your spine that made you feel woozy. But this was your shop after all, and the cookbook in her grasp was something that she would have to purchase from you. So, you rounded the counter, careful to avoid her searing gaze.

“Would you like to buy that?”

Your voice shook as you swiped the laptop to wake it from its peaceful sleep. Clara gave you a tight smile and put the book down on the counter. She eyed Kate with malice that made you want to kick her out of the store. It would be easier to ring her up and politely get her out. You could always buy another store or give up on the bookshop dream altogether.

“Nice choice,” You noted, keying in the price on the back of the book. Christmas Cooking: How to Satisfy Your Growing Family.

“You’re working here, now?”

Clara ignored your remark and looked around the meticulous swell of bookshelves. There was a second floor where Kate had decorated a live Christmas tree. It sparkled in brilliant color as a faux fireplace cast an orange glow over everything. There were comfortable places to read and sip coffee, a window seat overlooking the city street as snow began to fall.

“No, I own it.” You dropped her book carefully into a paper bag adorned with small snowflakes and reindeer. “That’ll be $16.50.”

She let out a humph of a noise and swiped her card with discontent. Kate was watching the interaction tersely. She grabbed at the closest book when Clara turned and glowered at her. Gardening suddenly became the most interesting thing in Kate’s peripheral.

“I see you’re still trotting around with your fake fling.” Clara slid the bag towards herself.

“Oh no, Kate and I are very much involved.”

“I don’t see how a relationship can be built on a lie.” She frowned.

“Didn’t Steven tell you he owned the L.A Country Club?”

She snapped her jaw shut and tucked the book under her arm. Clara had the posture of a ruler and maintained it as she let out a huff and stalked past you both. Kate gave a delicate wave but held her tongue as Clara walked from the shop and vanished into the crowds the setting sun in winter could bring.

There was a collective exhale of breath as you slumped over the counter. “Oh, fucking God.”

Kate reshelved the book before wrapping you in her arms, you buried your nose into the crook of her neck, breathing her in. “You did amazing, darling, truly. I would have hopped over that counter and… it’s not important what I would have done.”

“You know what this means, right?”

“That we have to up the security.”

“Well, yes, but she’s going to tell my mother.”

“Not your mother.”

Yes, your mother. Who would undoubtedly show up just as Clara had, but with a purpose. You’d seen her do it with your aunt when you were six years old. They had a similar blow-out that lasted much longer than yours had. Her name was forbidden in the house until that desire to reconnect reared its ugly head and she stuck around for another holiday season before crystal glasses and Christmas bulbs started flying, your aunt a stranger again.

Kate gently grabbed both sides of your face. “We can handle this, okay? You are a best-selling author. You’re dating one of the coolest girls in New York City, not to brag.”

“Very humble, Katie.”

She chuckled and soothed the color in your cheeks with her thumbs. “Fuck your family and whatever they throw at us. We’re unstoppable.”

You kissed her, tasting the caramel coffee against her lips. She hummed into the embrace and pulled you back into a comforting hug. You really hoped she was right, but you had a sneaking suspicion that this Christmas was going to be hell.

#Kate Bishop #Kate Bishop x reader #Kate Bishop x y/n #Kate Bishop x you #Christmas au #Hawkeye #hawkeye series #hawkeye kate bishop

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asecretsummer-rpg · 3 years ago

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The pairs and dates for the date auction are as follows:

Callie Montgomery x Allan Shaw - picnic in the park

Cam Quinn x Adriana Maxwell - dinner at Alfredo’s & mini golf

Edward Lane x Cara Cooke - drinks & dancing at the Attic

Clara Shaw x Jesse Hartford - ice skating

Gareth O’Neill x Elise Ramsey - BBQ in the park

Ioan Brady x Joan Weston - wine tasting at AJ’s

Travis Windsor x Hazel Cox - Karaoke night at the Green Dove

Anthony Hayes x Michelle Allen - picnic by the river

Landon Greene x Zara Chandra - Wine & cheese tasting

Hunter Smart x Amber Newell - Horseback riding

Tate Cullen x Lila Blake - Horror movie marathon at the cinema

Alexander Montgomery x Lola Stott - Mini golf

Shelby Whitfield x Hanna Clarkman - Date along the river on a boat

Steven Pope x Leah Winters - Art gallery tour + dinner and drinks

Elijah Smith x Audrey Henderson - Aquarium walk & drinks in Bridgefield

Kayla Porter-Dixon x Mason Peterson - coffee and cake tasting at the Riverside Diner

Lydia Sykes x Garrett Hayes - Paintball

Niamh Wakefield x Keith Hall - Personal museum tour & drinks

Rita Johnson x Brooke Ford-Hayes - Bowling

Nina Everett-Williamson x Emma Everett-Williamson - Spa and dinner

All locations mentioned are offering their services for these dates/snacks/drinks for free. Any date that doesn’t specifiy dinner and/or drinks can have this added in, be as creative as you would like. If a location isn’t specified, feel free to pick one yourself.

If you have any problems please let us know asap.

#event

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gretchenzellerbarnes · 5 years ago

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It’s taken me a while but here we are. Thanks for tagging me @poetic----nonsense

rule: tag people you’d like to know better!

Top 4 ships:

Not sure I can pick just 4, but here goes...

Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)

Eve Polastri/Villanelle (Killing Eve)

Twelve/Clara Oswald (Doctor Who) (to be fair, Twelve x Missy, Twelve x River, Thirteen x Missy, Thirteen x Master... you get the idea)

Ty Grady/Zane Garrett (Cut & Run)

Honorable mention... Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller (Broadchurch)

Last song:

No Time To Die by Billie Eilish

Last movie:

The Aristocats (I blame @poetic----nonsense and @summerofspock for this with their wonderful Aristomens nonsense)

Currently reading:

Lungbarrow by Marc Platt, The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins and Good Omens by Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett

I tag: @urban-trek-thru-middle-earth @comedancewithmezane @mahmah-tee @karolinadeaen @xofemeraldstars

#about me #ask tag

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soulpunkd · 3 years ago

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mobile ship list

Masterlist for romantic ships for all of my muses. Partners are tagged where applicable. Numbers (x/y) indicate number of ships versus number of ship slots. a ? indicates that the muse is presently multiship.

if a muse with 0 ships is marked as multiship, that is negotiable if you are interested in single-shipping with somebody.

woori bae (4/?)

mitchell weller (@calledmine)

felix amudee (@bluehcvrs)

hyunshik roh (@illfatcd)

theo han (@duskloved)

siobhan byrne (0/?)

samuel nam (2/2)

gemma lim (@calledmine)

sohyun lee (@bluehcvrs)

asya kaya (0/?)

jasper waxmen (1/1)

emilia rhee (@poetsdie)

keary han (0/?)

spencer morgan-kim (1/?)

youngsun park (@bluehcvrs)

clara morgan-kim (0/?)

daehwi kang (1/1)

dongsub bae (@calledmine)

cassie drake (0/?)

garrett song (1/1)

seojin doh (@calledmine)

hyunjin jung (0/?)

yu kiseok (1/1)

siwon jeong (@calledmine)

veronica peters (0/?)

robin waxmen (1/1)

kyuhyun byun (@calledmine)

maricel bautista (1/1)

seolwoo (@bluehcvrs)

marian hawke (0/?)

bailey kim (1/1)

joonho kang (@bluehcvrs)

hyunjoo choi (0/?)

hansol lee (1/1)

aveline waxmen (@calledmine)

kaya bae (0/?)

gabriel im (1/?)

christopher jung (@calledmine)

naomi matsui (0/?)

isaac song (1/?)

daithi jeon (@calledmine)

harleen quinnzel (0/?)

ezra kim (2/2)

yujin kang (@calledmine)

luca di angelo (@bluehcvrs)

sujin kang (0/?)

dani rojas (0/?)

ashley williams (0/?)

nirzara anand (0/?)

geralt of rivia (0/?)

oliver mehta (0/?)

erika miura (0/?)

luke morais (0/?)

ciri riannon (0/?)

bella of redcliffe (0/?)

#mobile ship list #kpoakasd sorry if this clogs the dash the fuckin. private posts dont open properly on mobile

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pagesoflauren · 7 years ago

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A Thousand Years (vampire!Jack x reader AU) - Part 10

Part 9 Masterlist

Jack and Y/N drive to her parents’ house as the sun sets on her last day of finals. The backseat is stocked with presents for all of Y/N’s relatives that he doesn’t know, with suitcases for the next two weeks in the trunk. They had given Ash and Garrett a key to the house to check on Socks and fill his food bowl for him. “Just don’t move in,” Jack said.“You have a fluffy, sassy black cat,” Ash replied, “I make no promises.”

They arrive a little before midnight, two days before Christmas.

“Oh thank you for letting us send the presents to your house,” Y/N’s mum gushes, “the little ones have been snooping about trying to find them. They’ll be thrilled when they’re finally under the tree.”

Her parents help them unload the car before pulling Y/N aside while Jack carries their suitcases upstairs. “When you tell everyone about Jack, please do it delicately.” “What do you mean?” “There’s just…I don’t know exactly what everyone’s opinions on vampires are. Some people might be open, but I’m not so sure about your nan and aunties.” “But papa fought with them in the war, Jack was a spitfire pilot like him.” “Darling, I know, but…you have to understand there’s still a stigma about them.” “Well, maybe you can tell them? Kinda hint at it and if they don’t catch on then I can tell them? He hunted last week so he’s not hungry. And-and he doesn’t hunt people, just the ones who are really violent and attack others. He’s not gonna hurt anyone, especially the kids. They’ll love him, I’m sure.”

Y/N’s sudden worry catches her mum’s attention, who works diligently to calm her. “No, darling I know. He’s a lovely man and he just adores you so much. I’m sure they’ll come around, like your father.” “Has he, though?” Her mum stammers out her response, “Well, sort of. Just give it time.” “How much? It’s been over a year.” “He just worries about you.” “And you don’t?” “I do, but not on the same level as him. I think after you told us about Jack’s friend he’s just worried you’ll do the same. Leave and never come back.” “Mum, I’m sticking around whether you want me to or not. Trust me. And I’m not going anywhere that you can’t get to me or I can’t come home easily.”

They laugh together, her mum pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Alright darling, best get some sleep. The next few days are going to be a little hectic.”

Y/N goes upstairs and finds Jack waiting in the doorway of her bedroom, leaning against the frame. “Hey,” she says as she approaches him. “You think they’ll like me?” “Of course, they just need to get to know you. And you have to show them how wonderful you are,” she says, pressing kisses to his cheek, “I’m sure you can do that.”

“Let’s bring some light into this house, why are all your curtains drawn?” Y/N’s Aunt Sharon asks the next morning as she arrives. Her mother hurries to shut the curtain again, clamping it shut with a binder clip.

“We can’t have too much light in here for the next few days,” she hushes to the room, catching everyone’s attention. “Why ever not?” “Y/N’s new boyfriend…he’s a bit…um…” “Oh, has he got light sensitivity in his eyes?” Aunt Clara asks, almost ironically. Her name does mean “light,” after all.

“Yes, a bit.” “Oh, that’s not a problem, a little sunlight won’t kill him.” “I’m not too sure about that, loves,” her mother says, “I’d rather be on the safe side.”

She continues shutting and clipping the curtains together, limiting the sunlight drastically and turning on the lights.

“This is quite strange,” Y/N’s nan states. “Just, something to get used to, don’t worry,” her father brushes it off, waving his hand in the air as if to wipe away the idea form everyone’s mind. “Now, shall we get started on breakfast?”

By the time Y/N wakes up, Jack is pacing the floor, hearing the sounds of her family downstairs. She sits up and grabs his hand, pulling him to sit on the bed. “Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise.” “You sure we can’t just go home and celebrate on our own?” “Yes, because the sun’s up. Don’t need you dying on me now.” “I can’t just stay up here?” “Mum’s already told them all about you. I’m sure my cousins really want to meet you, too.” “Well, maybe we can—“ “No. Come on. Come have breakfast with me. We don’t even have to sit in the kitchen, we can sit on the couch like we’re at home.” He inhales deeply before nodding. “Okay.”

As they come down the stairs, Jack smiles to himself at the fact that Y/N’s mum had clipped the curtains shut. Before he can thank her, a group of younger…humans…are running towards them calling her name.

“Y/N!!!” they all chorus. “Hi guys!” she says, running the rest of the way down the stairs and getting engulfed in a group hug.

Jack watches lovingly, remembering his dream about her before he feels someone pull at his pant leg. He looks down and sees a little boy, probably the age of four holding his arms up. He has bright green eyes that vaguely remind him of Socks and he smiles as he picks him up to settle him on his hip. “Good morning,” he greets the child. “Hello. I’m Adrian.” “Nice to meet you, Adrian. I’m Jack.” “Hi Jack. You’re cold,” he observes, pressing his hands into various places, testing his temperature. “You’re cold all over. Did auntie Y/N take all the blankets last night and that’s why you’re cold?” “No,” he laughs, “Just naturally this way.”

Suddenly there’s a cacophony of older women and men swarming them and Y/N’s introducing everyone to Jack.

“Aunt Sharon her husband Dominic, Aunt Clara and her wife Helen, Aunt Toni and her husband Henry, that’s my nan, and there’s Aunt Julia and her husband Benjamin. And that’s my older cousin Jenny and her husband Sam.” She begins introducing her cousins, bopping each of them on the heads to point them out, “This is Timmy, Tracy, Gavin, Henry Jr., Veronica, Mars, you’re carrying Adrian, that’s Emma and her sister Evie and their brother Walter.”

It’s a blur of names and shaking hands, but Jack’s sure he’s got the names down. “Come get some tea, young man, your hands are freezing,” Uncle Dominic says. “Oh, Jack doesn’t drink tea,” Y/N says. “Coffee?”

She shakes her head, walking over to the counter to make herself a plate and her relatives close in on him more. “Wait, Y/N, where are you going, don’t leave me!” he shouts quietly. He’s about to follow her when he feels a hand on his bicep. “Well, you must be eating something,” Aunt Sharon asks as she squeezes his bicep, “You’re in shape!” “Oh, that’s just…genes and stuff,” he says waving his hand, still balancing Adrian in his arms. “You’re such a lovely young man,” Y/N’s nan says. “Oh thank you, but only half of that statement is true,” he laughs.

He suddenly sees gears turning in their heads and Y/N’s back at his side.

“He is lovely, thought isn’t he?” “Adrian, come to mummy, darling,” Jenny says with some urgency, holding her arms out for her son. He shakes his head, tightening his arms around Jack’s neck. “Go on, Adrian, your mum wants you,” Jack says, gently prying his arms loose and handing him to his mother. She takes her child quickly, holding him so that she can shield him with her body.

“Are you a vampire?” Timmy practically blurts out.

There’s a moment of tense silence, and Jack does something he never thought he’d be able to do. He looks at his mother for all intents and purposes, Y/N’s mum, and asks for a signal of what to do.

She makes a motion that looks like a shrug.

“I am, yeah,” Jack says, Y/N weaving her fingers through his. “My teacher is a vampire too!” Timmy says, “That’s why I know!” “No he isn’t, Timothy,” Aunt Clara rushes, “He was just a vampire for Halloween.” “But he’s cold all the time too. And he tells us about when he was a teenager, he fought in the-the-the um, the war in America! He was a red coat.”

There’s more silence and the discomfort is extremely tangible.

“Well, we’re going to eat in the living room, don’t want the food getting cold,” Y/N says, pulling Jack toward the living room. “It was lovely meeting you all,” Jack stammers out before following her to sit on the couch.

The crowd of Y/N’s relatives disperses to sit down again at the dining table, Y/N’s cousins peeking into the living room before coming in and staring at Jack.

“How old are you?” Henry Jr. asks.

Y/N nudges him, telling him it’s okay.

“I’m 167.”

They explode in shouts of astonishment and excitement.

“You’re older than sliced bread!” Gavin shouts. “And Walt Disney!” Walter says, proud that he knows so much about the man he’s named after. “Can you turn into a bat?” Emma asks, staring up at Jack with wide eyes. “Do you hang upside when you sleep?” Evie asks. “No, I don’t really sleep and I don’t turn into a bat. But that’d be cool though.”

“Vy don’t yew sound like zis?” Gavin asks, putting on a bad Romanian accent. “Because I’m Scottish,” Jack laughs, “I’ve never even been to Romania.”

Suddenly Adrian runs in and hops into Jack’s lap. “Are you really a vampire?”

“Yeah, I am,” he smiles.

Without any other word, Adrian puts his hands on Jack’s face before prying his mouth open and looking in. Jack opens his mouth despite the discomfort of having little fingers in it and hears Y/N choke on a piece of pancake as she giggles.

“Where are your fangs?” he asks, tilting his head to try and find the pointed teeth.

Jack moves his head back so that the little boy’s fingers can slide out of his mouth, “Do you wanna see them?” “Yeah, yeah!” they all shout. “Okay, okay,” Jack laughs, “Don’t touch them okay?” “Okay,” Adrian smiles, clapping his hands in anticipation.

Jack opens his mouth and feels his fangs protrude as they all cheer in excitement. He retracts them before closing his mouth. “How strong are you?” Walter asks. “I don’t know, exactly.” “Carry me, carry me!” Adrian cheers. Jack gets up and obliges, before Emma’s pushing his arm up and telling him to extend it. She jumps up and hangs on his arm like a monkey bar and her other cousins follow suit, climbing up and hanging onto Jack in anyway he can. There’s the exception of Mars, the next one after Y/N, though he’s younger than her by eight years. He stares at Jack intently, squinting his eyes suspiciously at him. “Yes?” “Your name’s Jack.” “Mhmm.” “Like Jack the Ripper.”

If they were in a sitcom, there would be the sound of a record scratching, cutting off the happy music playing in the background and the sound of the studio audience laughing.

“Uh, no, mate, m’not a serial killer. You think I’d be hanging around your cousin and letting all these kids hang off me if I was?” “Maybe so.” “Mars is really into crime and stuff,” Y/N explains, “he wants to be a police officer when he grows up, don’t you?” “Yep. You’re all clear for now, mister,” he says to Jack. “Thank you, officer,” Jack laughs, setting all the kids on the floor and sitting down to hang out with them.

Y/N gets up to bring her plate to the sink, getting intercepted by her concerned relatives. “You left him with the children?” they ask, astonished. “They’re fine,” she says casually, “he won’t hurt them. They’re actually quite fascinated with him.” “Isn’t that what they do, though?” her nan says in an accusing tone, “They use their charm to get into people’s heads and draw them in and then they just take them away?” “No, he’s not like that at all!” “He’s got a hold on you, doesn’t he?” “No, it’s not like that. He wouldn’t hurt anyone. He hunts animals.”

There’s silence.

“Go look at see,” she points towards the doorway to the living room. They eye her suspiciously before Aunt Sharon goes to peek around the wall. She relaxes visibly before turning back. “What’s going on?” “They’re just playing and he’s telling them stories.” “He’s such a wonderful person, I promise. He fought in the Great War and World War II. He was a spitfire pilot, like Papa.”

There’s more silence and Y/N thinks she might’ve gotten through to them.

“You watch out for the children, okay?” they say, “You don’t let him hurt them.” “I won’t. Please, please give him a chance, he’s so sweet.”

There’s a sign of resignation in their eyes and they appear to concede.

“Just make sure you’re being safe, dear,” Aunt Helen says. Y/N had a special place in her heart ever since she was a little girl.

“People can be mean, Aunt Helen,” she had said, “but you’re nice. You’re just trying to love Aunt Clara. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“I will, Aunt Helen. He loves me and I love him.”

They all kiss her cheeks and forehead, reminding her they’re just worried because they love her and she can’t help that she feels a little thankful that they care so much. When she returns, Jack is telling them about Socks and his naughty habits, stopping to smile at her when he sees her walk in.

There’s a moment between them, suddenly broken by Evie’s outburst of “Do you love each other?” “No, they don’t Evie, only mommies and daddies can love each other,” Walter says. “Or mommies and mommies!” Timmy says, reminding them of his parents. “Yeah!” Walter agrees. “But they look at each other like mommy and daddy do,” Evie explains to Walter.

As they continue to banter, Y/N sits next to Jack, who’s bouncing little Adrian in his lap. “How’s it going?” “I think I got their approval,” Jack says proudly. “Good. The older folk are working at it.” “If they’re the older folk then I must be ancient.” “You are, though.” “Oi!”

The rest of the day was spent cooking, Jack helping in the kitchen where he could, proudly sharing his newfound cooking expertise with all the aunties while Y/N played video games with her cousins in the basement and the uncles watched football in the living room. Occasionally, Y/N would come in and grab snacks for the kids and Jack would quickly steal a kiss from her, earning coos from the aunts and a smile from Y/N’s mum.

After dinner, everyone gathered in the living room to open one present, Y/N picking her present from Aunt Clara and Aunt Helen as Jack settled behind her, extending his legs so she could sit between them. Her mum walked over and handed him an envelope with his name written on it.

“Here, darling,” she smiled, “Y/N told us you’ve yet to use your music app on your phone, so we figured we’d help you get started.”

He tears the envelope and opens the card, catching the iTunes gift card that slides out before reading the card.

We are so happy to have you as part of our family. May this be the first Christmas of many.

It was simple, but somehow it gave him all the reassurance he needed.

Y/N had jumped up at the excitement of unwrapping a designer bag, running over to hug her aunts. Jack got up to thank Y/N’s parents, hugging each of them tightly and kissing her mum on the cheek.

“Thank you,” he says, “I’m so grateful that you guys have accepted me into your family.” “Of course,” her father says, eyes drifting towards his daughter who’s modeling the bag in her pajamas, “She loves you very much.” “I want to say that I know, but I think she loves me more than I could ever imagine. And I feel just the same.” “If you ever want to marry her,” he says casually, “you have my approval.”

Jack looks at him, astonishment slapped all across his face.

“Are you serious?” “Yes. Hopefully that doesn’t scare you away,” he laughs, “I just imagine that…you two will be together for a long time and if marriage ever comes up you know you’ve got my blessing.”

Jack smiles, trying really hard to not let his emotions get the best of him, and thanks him.

When they go upstairs as everyone’s setting up their air mattresses and beddings, Y/N asks him what he and her parents were talking about.

“Oh I just thanked them for the iTunes, told them I’d use it to buy some Beatles music and stuff.” “Seems like you’re getting along well with everyone, especially when you were helping in the kitchen. Are they coming around?” “A little. I still can sense a bit of discomfort but it’s nice to know that your mum is getting me involved in everything.”

“I’m glad, too.”

They exchange kisses before Y/N snuggles up to him in bed and falls asleep. Jack gets up and opens the curtains, watching the snowfall as the moonlight filters in through the window. He remembers Christmases with his parents, opening presents and drinking hot cocoa while sitting by the fireplace. He remembers playing in the snow with Thomas, snowball fights and kissing pretty girls in the cheek as they stood under the mistletoe before running away. He doesn’t think about them much, but around this time of year when everyone is with their families, he can’t help but miss his own parents, wishing so badly that they hadn’t turned him away.

His thoughts are interrupted when Y/N stirs, in bed, her teeth chattering agains the cold. He closes the curtains before lying next to her and bringing her into him, pulling another blanket over her to shield her from the cold air. He presses a series of kisses to her forehead, her father’s words echoing in his mind. I just imagine that you two will be together for a long time.

He thinks about his dream again, having Y/N at his side forever. He shelves the idea again, knowing that Y/N might change her mind one day and decide to be with a mortal. As much as he’d understand why she would make a decision like that, he really hopes she doesn’t.

The next morning, Jack hears rattling at the door before it opens and Adrian runs in, jumping on the bed.

“It’s Christmas, it’s Christmas, it’s Christmas!” he cheers, shaking Y/N awake. “Oh, gosh, Adrian, okay, okay,” she laughs, “I’m awake, we’ll be down in a bit.” “Come on, Uncle Jack, come on!” he says tugging his arm. “Go, go, I’ll catch up,” she says, pushing him towards the edge of the bed to follow the little boy.

Jack’s mind is in a frenzy. He wants to tell Adrian to wait for Y/N, but his thought are muddled by the fact that he called him uncle. He’s able to come down the stairs, grabbing Adrian and scoop him into his arms before he slips on the last step and carries him into the living room.

Jenny’s eyes light up with concern for her son when she first sees them together, but relaxes when Jack sets him down with his other cousins to play with the race car track that Gavin got from his parents. Y/N finally comes down and she’s swarmed with everyone wanting to give her presents since she’s the last of the cousins to do so. She unwraps sweaters, gift cards and makeup bags before Jack hands her a slender box with her name written in curly handwriting.

“This one’s from me,” he says. “Did you write this?” she says, pointing to the penmanship written in black marker. “I did. Told you I had some of the best handwriting in Oxton.” “I stand corrected. Here,” she says handing him her own box as well. Their first Christmas they spent together, they had just cuddled and watched movies all day as the snow fell outside, not exchanging gifts. This Christmas they had made it a point to give gifts to each other, keeping them secret and stashing them in places around the house where they know the other wouldn’t find it.

“Open yours first,” Jack says. “Can’t we open it together?” “No, I wanna see your reaction.” “Okay,” she laughs, tearing into the gift wrap and tossing it aside. “Jack please tell me you didn’t get me a diamond necklace. “I didn’t,” he says, shaking his head.

She opens the box to find a Victorian folding fan, delicately taking it out of the box and slowly opening it. Lace lined the top of it and a floral design was spread across the pleated section.

“It’s from around my time,” he explains, “If I was courting you and you wanted to communicate with me, you would’ve used a bunch of different movements and ways of fanning yourself to do so.”

“Well right now, I’m gonna use it to actually fan myself because it’s hot here,” she says, fanning herself quickly. He suddenly becomes sheepish, catching her attention. “What?” she laughs. “Well, in Scotland that means ‘kiss me.’” “In that case,” she giggles, turning more towards him and fanning herself even faster. Jack leans in and pecks her on the lips, before drawing away bashfully. She laughs now, folding the fan again and kissing his cheek. “I love it. Thank you.” “M’glad, lass.”

“Okay, now open yours,” she says.

He undoes the twine bow and begins slowly tearing the paper away, revealing a small book. It’s leather and his initials are carved into the cover. “What’s this now?” he asks. “Open it,” she says, her cheeks glowing with a slight pink tint.

He pulls the cover open, resting his fingers on the page so that he can look at it.

It’s him.

It’s a picture of him at the stove, with a bar of text that says “Get you a man that can cook.”

“How did,” he starts, his question dying in his throat as he turns the page.

It’s a picture of him sitting on her bed in her dorm, smaller this time, along with a couple screenshots from her phone.

GUYS GUYS LAST NIGHT I WENT TO THE BAR AND THE BARTENDER WAS SO HOT HE WALKED ME BACK TO MY DORM AND LEFT ME HIS JACKET BECAUSE IT WAS COLD GIRL YOU BETTER GET THAT ASS WHAT WAS HIS NAME? WHAT DID HE LOOK LIKE?? HIS NAME IS JACK AND HE’S SO FREAKING TALL AND BLONDE AND HE HAS BLUE EYES AND HE’S SCOTTISH AND HE LEFT YOU HIS JACKET? GIRL HE WANTS YOU YOU HAVE TO SEE HIM AGAIN I WANT TO. I’M GONNA GIVE HIM HIS JACKET WHAT ELSE SHOULD I SAY JUST BE LIKE “Hey this is really nice, where’d you get it?” Just make conversation with him. THEN FUCK HIM.

Jack laughs when he reads that conversation before looking over at Y/N and seeing her laughing with him.

The next picture is of him reclining on the couch, Socks on his chest as he looks in the direction of the TV.

He’s smiling, feeling tears build up in his eyes.

The next page is another couple of screenshots and a picture of him folding laundry.

Y’all he’s a vampire, how did I not realize. damn WHAT! Okay but if you think about it that kinda makes sense? Like, working in a bar late at night when the sun isn’t out, living in one of the cloudiest places in the entire world? That’s true. Should I still go for it though? did you talk to him today? give him his jacket? I did. I kissed him too. Y/N FJI;RHGROIEF;VHIG;AIH OH MY GOD YOU DID STOP EVERYTHING I KNOW I KNOW I COULDN’T HELP IT THOUGH, HE’S SO PRETTY AND HE WAS GONNA LEAVE BUT I DIDN’T WANT HIM TO SO I JUST WENT FOR IT HE KISSED ME TOO THOUGH HE DID!!! Y/N YOU KISSED A VAMPIRE I DID HOLY SHIT NOW WHAT THOUGH HE’S TAKING ME OUT TOMORROW. WHERE? WHERE? We’re going to a restaurant lmao he’s just gonna pay for my food. Bruh he totally wants you HE WANTS TO TAP IT Y/N!!!

They laugh again and Jack turns to the next page, seeing a picture of him painting the house. There’s another of him napping, the camera close to his face, and he cries. “What, what is it?” Y/N asks, everyone’s attention turning to him. “I just,” he starts, his voice full of emotion as he looks at the picture, “I haven’t seen myself in years. I’ve forgotten what I look like.”

Y/N laughs, wiping his tears with the sleeve of her sweater and kissing his cheek. “How’d you even do this?” “You show up on iPhone cameras, love,” she explains, still laughing. “I can’t believe this,” he says, “I never-I never thought I’d see pictures of myself again, I’ve only had ideas and vague memories.”

He continues flipping through the pictures, finding one of him scolding Socks, then fist bumping him even though he still looks rather annoyed, laughing through his tears. There’s one of him driving, his mouth open as he sings, and another of him scowling at the TV, probably watching Jeremy Kyle. He stops suddenly, looking at a photo of him and Y/N. They’re at the club from Halloween, in their costumes, him laughing as Y/N kisses his cheek. He figures Ash or Garrett must’ve taken it, but he’s still overcome with emotion. He has a picture of himself with her.

He cries even more, Y/N rubbing his back and laughing as she tries to calm him down. “We can have pictures together,” he says. “We can,” she confirms, nodding her head. “And we can have videos too? Videos of us together?” “Mhmm. Here,” she says, grabbing her phone and opening snapchat. She activates the selfie camera, holding it up to her face before leaning over to bring Jack into the picture. His eyes and nose are a little red from his tears and he almost starts crying again at the sight of himself. “Hey, stop crying,” she laughs, kissing his cheek. Jack looks beyond the phone and finds everyone watching him, their eyes soft after witnessing the scene unfold before them. Y/N snaps the picture then, his eyes looking away from the camera and her lips pressed against his cheek as she looks for a Christmas frame to add onto it before sending it to her story. “Can you teach me how to do that?” he asks. “Snapchat?” He nods, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Of course, darling. And you can take all the pictures you want.”

#Jack Lowden

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mariajosemolinasierra · 5 years ago

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La segunda ola feminista: las Guerrilla Girls y el postfeminismo de los ochenta

Cuando las mujeres artistas empezaron a llamarse terroristas

En 1985 el Museo de Arte Moderno de Nueva York inauguró An International Survey of Recent Painting an Sculpture, la exposición que presumiblemente, debía reunir lo mejor del panorama artístico mundial. Por desgracia, de los más de 160 artistas invitados a la muestra (entre ellos Miquel Barceló, Francesco Clemente, Anish Kapoor, Anselm Kiefer, entre otros) sólo poco más de una decena eran mujeres: Alice Adams, Miriam Cahn, Magdalena Abakanowicz, Yvonne Jacquette, Elizabeth Murray, Katherine Porter, Ida Applebroog, Davida Allen, Dana Garrett, Cheryl Laemmle, Judy Pfaff , Susan Rothenberg. Todos, tanto europeos como norteamericanos, hombres o mujeres, eran de raza blanca. Para mayor agravio, el comisario de la exposición Kynaston McShine llegó a afirmar en unas declaraciones, que cualquier artista (refiriéndose al género masculino) que no estuviese en dicha exposición debía replantearse su carrera. Aquellas declaraciones provocaron la alarma de los muchas feministas que consideraban que todo aquel en posición de poder, tanto comisarios, críticos de arte, coleccionistas, e incluso los propios artistas, eran juez y parte de una situación fuera de toda lógica. Pronto un colectivo de mujeres anónimas que se dieron a conocer como Guerrilla Girls, se decidieron a poner en la picota a todos ellos, haciendo públicas las alarmantes estadísticas que mostraban la escasa presencia de las mujeres en Museos y galerías de arte. Así surgieron los primeros pósteres con los que las Guerrilla Girls empapelaron las calles del SoHo de Nueva York en 1985.

Primeros pósteres en las calles de Nueva York

Mediante actos que ellas mismas definirán como “terroristas”, en los que aparecían cubiertas con máscaras de gorila para denunciar el sexismo y el racismo del mundo del arte, las Guerrilla Girls comienzan a hacerse muy presentes en el panorama artístico.

En 1989, tras denegarles una subvención de la Public Art Fund de Nueva York, ellas solitas se alquilaron los espacios publicitarios de los autobuses de la ciudad dispuestas a denunciar la escasa presencia de las mujeres en los museos, reducida a los desnudos mostrados en las obras de arte. La famosa La Grande Odalisque (1814) de Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, cubierta con una máscara de gorila servía de telón de fondo a la consigna:

“Do women have to be naked to get into the Met. Museum?

Less than 5% artists in the Modern Art sections are women, but 85 % of the nudes are female.

(¿Tienen que estar desnudas las mujeres para entrar en el Metropolitan Museum? Menos de un 5% de los artistas de las secciones de arte moderno son mujeres, pero un 85% de los desnudos son femeninos.)

Este cartel se convertirá en un hito del espíritu transgresor postfeminista de los ochenta que Lucy Lippard acierta a describir bajo estas líneas:

“Cuando las mujeres artistas comienzan a llamarse a sí mismas terroristas, cuando arañan, deforman o mutilan sus imágenes, parece que el arte feminista estuviese dirigiéndose hacia un nuevo ciclo de locura feroz. Pero en los tiempos que corren (postpunk), humor e ironía y un cierto aire de chic radical están calmando la furia” ( LIPPARD. The pink glass swan. 1995)

El movimiento postfeminista

Los ochenta son también buenos tiempos para algunas artistas conceptuales que se dan a conocer pisando muy fuerte, artistas como Jenny Holzer o Barbara Kruger, con un estilo parecido a las Guerrilla, a la hora de usar el lenguaje como elemento clave en sus producciones y convertidas en los exponentes de un nuevo feminismo.

Junto a ellas toda una nueva generación de artistas, más concentradas en una exploración de la sexualidad, ya no desde la diferencia biológica (hombre/mujer), sino desde el punto de vista del género y del sexo (como una construcción cultural). En este colectivo de nuevas feministas se inscriben mujeres artistas como Mary Kelly, Sherry Levine o Silvia Kolbowski, quienes pondrán en solfa el feminismo opositor esencialista de los setenta. Según la historiadora del arte Ana María Guash, uno de los primeros cuestionamientos en este sentido, fue el llevado a cabo por las historiadoras Roszika Parker y Griselda Pollock en 1981 (Old Mistresses: Women, Art and Ideology), cuando denunciaron la falta de eficacia del discurso feminista, arremetiendo contra el uso de imágenes de carácter sexual vinculadas a lo considerado como femenino, en clara referencia a la imaginería femenina empleada por artistas feministas como Judy Chichago en los setenta.

Mary Kelly, una de las artistas contemporáneas más influyentes en activo

The artist Mary Kelly in her Los Angeles studio.

Credit: Joyce Kim for The New York Times

Roszika Parker y Griselda Pollock preferían apostar a comienzos de la nueva década por aires renovados. Tomaban partido por otro tipo de feminismo y señalaban a artistas como Mary Kelly, exponentes por aquel entonces de un feminismo radical, vinculado a las teorías de Jaques Lacan. Se inclinaban por obras como Proyecto Post_Partum, una de las más conocidas de la artista norteamericana, realizado entre 1973 y 1979, donde Mary Kelly describe los pormenores de la relación entre ella y su hijo durante los seis primeros años de vida del niño. Aquí a pesar de elegir un tema tradicionalmente femenino, la artista se aleja de las representaciones habituales de la maternidad. El proyecto se dividía en seis secciones y adopta un marcado carácter científico y conceptual, incluye desde los primeros pañales sucios del niño (diaper linings), a grabaciones con sus primeros balbuceos, conversaciones, ropa infantil y dibujos, acompañados de cuadros sinópticos, diagramas médicos y textos psicoanalíticos. Mary Kelly se inspira en las teorías de Jacques Kacan sobre la constitución del sujeto sexuado a través de los mecanismos de socialización y adquisición del lenguaje y analiza como la feminidad maternal se construye a través de la relación madre-hijo. (Patricia Mayayo. Cuerpos sexuados, cuerpos de (re)producción. 2011)

Hasta aquí un breve recorrido por la segunda ola feminista o postfeminismo y las nuevas propuestas que la década de los ochenta trajeron al panorama artístico contemporáneo.

Proyecto Post-Partum

Detail Perpsex units, white card, sugar paper, crayon 1 of the 13 units, 35.5 x 28 cm each

Fuente: marykellyartist.com

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affixal · 8 years ago

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The sneakpeek for this week's CMBB has me stressed enough to be making a post about it.

#CMBB #Clara x Jack #Clara Seger #Jack Garrett #criminal minds beyond borders

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themomsandthecity · 8 years ago

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Every Baby Name We Could Possibly Think Of

Naming your baby is a big decision, and with endless options, it can also be a difficult one. Whether you're going the traditional route or want something more unique (if so, read this first!) it's helpful to have a little, or a lot, of inspiration. Ahead, you'll find nearly every baby name we could think of (close to 1,000!). These aren't just random names we found in a book or concocted ourselves - they're almost all monikers we've heard being used, or we actually know someone who goes by the name. If we missed any, tell us in the comments! A Aaliyah Aaron Abbie Abel Abigail Abraham Adalyn Adam Addilyn Addison Adelaide Adeline Adley Adora Agatha Aiden Alan Albert Aleph Alexander Alexis Ali Alma Alton Ama Amanda Amaryllis Amber Ameila Amélie Amy Anders Anderson Andrea Andrew Angie Angela Angelica Anika Anna Annalise Anne Annie Ansel Apple April Arata Archie Aria Ariane Ariel Arlee Arlo Arman Arthur Arun Arwen Arya Asha Asher Aspen Atticus Aton Aubrey Audrey August Augustus Aurora Ava Avery Axel Aziz B Bailey Barack Barbara Barney Barry Beatrice Beau Beckett Beckham Becky Ben Benedict Benjamin Bennett Bentley Bernadette Beth Bette Betty Beverly Bexley Bianca Bill Billie Bingham Bishop Bitsie Blake Blue Bobby Bodhi Bonnie Bowie Brady Braelynn Brandon Brayden Brecken Bree Brent Brenton Brett Brian Briana Briar Bridgette Brienne Brig Brigham Brinley Brio Britta Brock Brody Bronwyn Brooklyn Bruno Bryan Byron C Caden Caitlin Caity Cale Caleb Calla Calvin Camari Cameron Camilla Carena Carina Carl Carmel Carol Carrey Carter Cary Casey Caspian Cat Catherine Celine Chandler Chanel Channing Charise Charlene Charles Charlotte Chase Cher Cheri Cheriann Cheryl Chevy Chip Chloe Chris Chrissy Christian Christopher Claire Clara Clark Clary Claudia Clementine Clifford Clint Clinton Clyde Colin Collins Condoleezza Connor Conrad Constance Coolidge Cooper Cora Corban Courtney Cruz Related: 100 of the Most Beautiful Baby Names D Daisy Dale Dallas Damon Dane Danica Daniel Danielle Daphne Darby Darlene Darrel Daryl Dashiell Dave David Davina Davis Davon Dawn Dean Deanna Declan Dekel Delaney Delilah Delta Dennis Denzel Desmond Dev Devon Dexter Diane Dinah Dixie Dixon Dolores Dominique Donald Doris Dorothea Dorothy Dot Duke Duncan Dwight Dylan E Easton Ed Eden Edith Edmund Edward Effie Eleanor Elena Eli Eliana Elijah Elise Elizabeth Ella Elle Ellen Ellerie Ellie Elliott Ellis Elodie Eloise Elora Elroy Elsa Elsie Embry Emerson Emily Emma Emmett Eric Erica Esme Esmeralda Esther Ethan Ethel Eugene Evan Eve Evelyn Everett Evie Ewan Ezra F Farah Fay Felix Ferris Finn Fiona Fisher Fitz Fleur Flint Florence Floyd Flynn Ford Forrest Foster Fox Frances Frank Franklin Frederick G Gabe Gabriel Gaige Gail Gant Garrett Garth Gavin Gem Gemma Gene Genesis Gertrude George Gianna Gibson Gigi Gina Ginger Gladys Glenn Gloria Gordon Grace Grady Graham Grant Grayson Greer Gregory Griffin Grover Gus Gwen Gwyneth H Hadlee Hailey Hal Halle Hank Hannah Harding Harlow Harlyn Harold Harper Harriet Harrison Harry Hart Hartley Harvey Haven Hawk Hawthorne Hayden Hayes Hays Hazel Hector Heath Heather Helen Henley Henry Hillary Honor Holden Holly Holt Hope Hubert Hudson Hugo Humphrey Hunter Hurley Hutton Related: Based Off Last Year's Trends, These 30 Names Will Be Among the Most Popular of 2017 I Ian Ida Idris Ike Imanuel Imogen India Indy Ingrid Inizio Ireland Iris Irvin Isa Isaac Isabella Isabelle Isaiah Isla Israel Ivana Ivory J Jack Jackie Jackson Jacob Jacqueline Jaden Jaelyn Jagger Jake James Jameson Jamie Jane January Jason Jasper Jaun Jax Jaxon Jayce Jayden Jeannette Jed Jeff Jefferson Jenna Jess Jessica Jessie Jill Jillian Joan Joanna Joaquin Joe John Jones Jordan Joseph Josephine Josh Joshua Joslyn Joss Joy Joyce Judith Judy Jules Julia Julian Julie Juliet Julius June Juno Justin K Kai Kaia Kale Kalinda Kane Karah Katharine Kathryn Kate Kay Kaya Kaylee Keanu Keegan Keira Keith Kellan Kelly Kelsey Kendall Kennedy Kevin Khloe Kiah Kiele Kiera Kim Kima Kimberly Kingston Kinsley Kirk Kit Kitty Knox Krista Kristen Kurtis Kyle Kylie L Laith Lake Lana Landon Lane Larissa Larkin Laszlo Laura Lauren Lawrence Layla Leah Lee Leia Leighton Leilani Lena Lennon Leo Leonard Leslie Levi Lewis Leyona Lia Liam Liana Lida Lilith Lillian Lily Lincoln Lindsay Lionel Lisa Lisette Liz Logan Lois Lola London Loretta Lorraine Louella Louise Lucas Lucian Lucille Lucy Luke Luna Lux Lyle Lyndon Lynne Related: 100 Unusual Boy Names M Mabel Mabrey Mac Macallan Mackenzie Macy Madeleine Madelyn Madison Mae Maeby Maggie Mahershala Maia Makena Malcolm Maleeya Malia Mamie Mandy Marabelle Marcus Maren Margaret Margot Mari Maria Mariah Mariam Marilyn Marin Marion Marisole Marisse Marjorie Mark Marlene Marlon Marlowe Martha Martin Mary Mason Matilda Matthew Maui Mavis Maximus Maxson May Maya McKinley Megan Melissa Meredith Merritt Meryl Meyer Mia Michael Michelle Mika Mike Mila Mildred Miles Millie Milo Moana Molly Monica Monroe Montgomery Morgan Moses Muhammad Murray Myles N Nahall Nahla Nancy Nanette Naomie Nasima Natalie Nate Nathan Naveen Naya Neil Neisa Neo Neoma Newt Newton Niall Nicholas Nick Nico Nicole Nicolette Nigel Nile Nimah Nixon Noah Noel Nolan Nora Norma Norman North Nova O Obama Octavia Olly Olive Oliver Olivia Omar Opal Ophelia Ordell Oriana Orion Orlando Orson Orville Oscar Otis Otto Owen P Paige Paislee Paloma Pandora Paris Parker Patrick Patsy Paul Payton Pearl Peggy Penelope Penn Penny Perry Pete Peyton Phillip Phoebe Phoenix Phyllis Pierce Piper Polly Poppy Porter Posey Preston Primrose Priya Prudence Priscilla Q Quaid Quincy Quentin Quinn Quinten R Rachel Radley Rae Ralph Ramsey Rayna Rayne Reagan Rebecca Reese Reeve Reid Reign Remi Renly Rex Rhea Rhett Rhys Richard Rick Riley Ripley River Rivers Rob Robert Robin Rome Romy Ronald Ronin Rooney Roosevelt Rory Rosalind Rosalynn Rosamund Rose Rosemary Ross Rowan Roy Royce Ruby Rue Ruth Rutherford Ryan Ryder Related: 100 Unique Yet Beautiful Girls' Names S Sacha Sage Sahara Saint Sam Samuel Sandra Sandy Sansa Sarah Saul Savannah Sawyer Scarlett Schuyler Scout Sean Sebastian Selena Sena Seymour Shane Shannon Shea Shelly Sherlock Sherry Shiloh Shirley Sia Sidney Sienna Simon Skyler Sloan Sofia Solo Sonia Sophia Sophie Spencer Stacy Stanley Stella Stephanie Sterling Stetson Stuart Sue Sullivan Summer Suri Susan Sylvia T Tabitha Tad Tamera Tamsyn Tanner Tara Tate Taylor Teagan Teddy Terrance Thea Thelma Theordore Theresa Thomas Tim Tina Tinley Toby Todd Tom Tony Travis Travon Trent Trey Tricia Trinity Tripp Tristan Troy Truman Turner Tyler Tyson V Valentina Valentine Vance Vaughan Vaughn Vera Vern Victor Victoria Viggo Vince Vincent Viola Violet Virgil Vivian W Waldo Walker Wallis Walter Warren Watson Waverly Wells Wes Wesley Westley Whitney Will Willa William Willow Wilson Winter Wolfe Wren Wyatt X Xander Xavier Xeno Y Yanet Yani Yigal York Yuma Yvette Z Zachary Zahir Zander Zane Zaylee Zayn Zion Zoe Zola Zooey Zora Zuma Zuri Related: These Are the Most Popular Baby Names of 2016 http://bit.ly/2kR9iwY

#Baby Names

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ossianonline · 7 years ago

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‘Ossian’s lyricism’: Portuguese women’s translations

The following guest post comes from Gerald Bär of Universidade Aberta, whose publications include many important contributions to Ossian Studies. A fuller treatment of the topic of this post can be found in his article for Translation and Literature, “‘Ossian fürs Frauenzimmer’? Lengefeld, Günderrode, and the Portuguese Translations of ‘Alcipe’ and Adelaide Prata.”

When deciding on the title for my Portuguese translations of Ossian, I had to choose between ‘poemas’ and ‘poesias’. Bearing in mind the remarkable lyrical aspect in the reception and perception of the Ossianic poems, I used the latter word in order to emphasize their emotional and sentimental impact: Poesias de Ossian: Antologia das traduções em português (Lisbon, Universidade Católica Editora, 2010).

What was so appealing about Macpherson’s Bard? Being the last of his race, he presents tragic love of epic dimensions; heroism with nationalistic undertones; scenarios of the ‘sublime’; faithful commitment; passion; premature death; joy of grief. More than enough reasons, perhaps, to explain the female fascination for Ossian in the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Ossian’s popularity becomes only too evident when we consider the many woman translators who contributed to the numerous translations of Macpherson’s publications and their lasting impact. Schiller’s wife, Charlotte von Lengefeld (1766-1826), and Karoline von Günderrode (1780–1806) showed a preference for ‘Darthula’, a short Ossianic poem included in the volume Fingal (1762). The Marquesa de Alorna (1750-1839) translated ‘Darthula’ into Portuguese, making use of Le Tourneur’s version of 1777. In her posthumously published translation she emphasizes ‘the melancholic tone in all of Ossian’s compositions, which mainly derives from the description of nocturnal scenes, lingering with pleasure on sombre and majestic objects’. [i]

By the time Fingal was translated into Portuguese the previously politically controversial national epic had become less polemical through the different emphasis given by its reception abroad and through its musical treatment. Composers such as Désiré-Alexandre Batton (Fingal (1822), Caterino Cavos, (Fingal i Roskrana, a three-act opera, 1824) and Gaetano Solito (Fingal: dramma lirico in tre atti by posto in musica dal Maestro Pietro Antonio Coppola, 1848), applied the genre of romance or scène lyrique to the poems and transformed Fingal into a lyrical piece.

Besides the many woman-translators, the performing of Ossian as a musical piece also contributed to giving the female voice more prominence in the drama and narrative. Clara Novello’s acclaimed soprano made her one of the greatest British vocalists of her time from 1833 onwards. Amongst the most important works created expressly for Novello was Fingal by Coppola, a popular work which was a success for the singer, as she recollects in her Reminiscences:

Several operas have been written for me: “Fingal,” by Coppola, successful; “Cleopatra,” by . . . laughed off the stage; “Foscarini,” by Coen, not bad nor ill-received, and others I forget. A hospitable custom in Lisbon gave us all three or four days’ lodging in some hotel, during which to find permanent abodes for our six months’ stay. [ii]

Clara Novello.

Coppola’s Portuguese libretto of Fingal (‘drama lyrico em 3 actos’, 1851) emphasizes the female role of Agandeca (sic), which gains a disproportionate importance, compared with Macpherson’s text. Coppola’s piece was put on stage on 21 April 1851 in the Royal Theatre of S. Carlos in Lisbon, repeated nine times and brought back in 1864 for another two presentations.

The Portuguese libretto of 1864 with P. Mongini as Fingal.

By that time, however, the leading figures and opinion-makers of Portuguese Romanticism, Almeida Garrett and Alexandre Herculano, had already adopted a more critical view of Ossian. Herculano did not include Fingal in his canon of ‘truly original epics’. [iii]

The first complete Portuguese translation of Fingal was published in 1867 in Porto by Maria Adelaide Fernandes Prata (1826-81), prefaced by two letters of the poets Pinto Ribeiro and Sousa Viterbo:

Porto edition of Fingal (1867).

It is possible that she had been inspired for her work by Novello’s performance or by its reviews. Similar to the Marquesa de Alorna’s Ossian translation, it too is reliant on Le Tourneur, who had used the 1765 Works edition, but it includes neither Macpherson’s notes, nor his Dissertations. In his eulogy Pinto Ribeiro considers Prata’s translated verses to be of the highest harmony, asserting that only a woman can produce real poetry. She can compensate for ‘formal defects with the grateful perfume of love and belief, fanciful lyricism, exquisite sensitivity and sentences of naïve simplicity, which male poetry can never achieve’. As he classifies Fingal not expressly as an epic poem, but as ‘one of the most beautiful little poems of the Homer of the North’ (‘um dos mais bellos poemetos do Homero do Norte’), the translator’s supposed childlike feminine ingenuousness seems to match the attitude expressed in natural and original, ‘formless’ folk poetry. Prata’s versification makes Sousa Viterbo rave about the ‘pure seraphic language’ of the ‘Scottish Homer’, with ‘its dithyrambs’ composed ‘of tenderness, melancholy, softness, delirium and passion’ (Prata, p. 14). These observations by the eminent poet Sousa Viterbo carry the weight of nineteenth-century gender and genre expectations. As already mentioned, the Portuguese Fingal does not include any of Macpherson’s notes, and excludes his and Blair’s academic dissertations. Categorising Fingal as ‘rather a lyrical than an epic poem’, Sousa Viterbo’s contribution to the volume thus relieves the translator of the supposedly masculine task of providing a lengthy literary-historical introduction to Fingal or having to supply academic notes. Its narrative, suspended by songs, and its descriptive elements always giving way to recitative parts, makes him ‘think more of the Romantic genre than of classic style of Antiquity’ (Prata, p. 16).

After appreciating the translator’s excellent choice and the accuracy and elegance of her work, Sousa Viterbo embarks on a detailed and effusively enthusiastic examination of Ossian, ‘the great poet’: ‘He has the roughness of primitive ages but it is this roughness that makes the heart a slave and the intellect a convinced admirer’ (Prata, p. 10). In his nineteenth-century view concerning the subject’s suitability for the fair sex, the poem’s ‘lyrical’ and romantic character, its inherent melancholy, the themes of love and poetry and ‘the female figures, so delicately and sensitively outlined’ by Ossian, makes Fingal perfectly suited for women translators. When Adelaide Prata’s translation came out the Ossianic subject had certainly changed from epic to epigonal, a fact made evident by many imitations and re-mediations (operas, theatre plays). However, despite the somewhat double-edged praise for its female translator, the Portuguese Fingal never saw a second edition, although the first was rather limited, inexpensive (500 réis) and inconspicuous compared to the impressive volume of 1762 (4to., 22.75 x 20cm), printed for Becket and De Hondt, in the Strand.

[i] D. Leonor D’Almeida Portugal Lorena e Lencastre Marqueza D’Alorna, Obras Poeticas, 6 vols (Lisbon, 1844), III, p. 289.

[ii] Clara Novello, Clara Novello’s Reminiscences. Compiled by her Daughter Contessa Valeria Gigliucci, with a Memoir by Arthur D. Coleridge, (London, 1910), pp. 138-146.

[iii] Alexandre Herculano, Opúsculos, edited by Jorge Custódio e José Manuel Garcia, (Lisbon, 1986), V, p. 213.

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hopelessdreamer80 · 7 years ago

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Today in Soap Opera History (November 27)

On this date in...

1979: On Guiding Light, Holly Thorpe (Maureen Garrett) admitted to Clara (Anna Maria Horsford) that she was hopeful for a new trial after she remembered under hypnosis that she shot her husband, Roger, in self defense.

1985: On Santa Barbara, Eden (Marcy Walker) had a dream about Cruz (A Martinez) and Kirk (Joseph Bottoms). Janice (Kathy Shower) had a photo shoot with a snake.

1995: On One Life to Live, Viki (Erika Slezak) struggled in therapy to remember her father's murder.

2006: Matthew Morrison aired for the final time as Adam on As the World Turns after a short run which ended due to a "scheduling conflict."

CREDIT: x

#guiding light #santa barbara #One Life to Live #as the world turns #soaphistory

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malibufichas · 7 years ago

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chars ativos

alice

ooc

Helo, eu sou a Karen, mas por favor, me chamem de Potássio, todos me conhecem assim (juro que explico porque de Potássio depois, todo mundo me pergunta porque). Tenho 20 quase 21 anos (dia 16 chega logo nunca te pedi nada) e pronomes são ela/dela. No momento eu tô só fazendo faculdade, então meu tempo indisponível é das 18:00 às 22:30, de resto, eu tô disponível, porém eu divido meu tempo entre o ethereal, o heirs of legends e se me aceitarem aqui, aqui também, mas eu vou estar sempre dando replie e entrando, até porque eu monitoro minhas contas pelo celular também quando estou off, pra saber onde já me deram replie pra eu ir lá e responder (porque eu tenho meus deveres em casa e também da faculdade, então as vezes não to no PC mas sempre pelo celular). E eu ficaria muito feliz se evitassem ao máximo palhaços e se por acaso houver uma task de circo, me avisassem antes pra eu não entrar nesse período, eu tenho fobia, então seria péssimo.

muse h, lily collins – você viu que alice cooper está em malibu? talvez você a conheça, ela tem vinte e um anos e é conhecida por ser leal e sincera. porém, as más línguas dizem que ela pode se tornar também ciumenta e explosiva. de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ela vai dar o que falar.

izzy

ooc

Ma, 19 anos, ela/dela. Tempo disponível é a grande parte da semana horário de fim de tarde/noite.

triggers: estupro/incesto

muse H, Nina Dobrev – você viu que Isabelle “Izzy” Jane Crawford está em malibu? talvez você a conheça, ela tem vinte e quatro anos e é conhecida por ser extrovertida e amigável. porém, as más línguas dizem que ela pode se tornar também atrapalhada e insegura. de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ela vai dar o que falar.

liz

(entra bem de vez em quando, mas provavelmnte vai ficar)

OOC

Olá!! meu nome é julia e tenho preferência por pronomes femininos. eu tenho bastante tempo disponível, mas provavelmente vou ficar mais por aqui no período da noite. :) não tenho nenhum trigger e acho que é isso aí!!

MUSE 6, Zoey Deutch – você viu que Elizabeth (Liz) Montgomery está em malibu? talvez você a conheça, ela tem dezoito anos e é conhecida por ser extrovertida e bondosa. porém, as más línguas dizem que ela pode se tornar também teimosa e orgulhosa. de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ela vai dar o que falar.

sebastian (semi hiatus)

OOC

Bia/Bê. 18 anos. Pode me chamar do que quiser, sinceramente. Eu tentarei entrar diariamente, no período noturno.

#13 HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT Ben Barnes – você viu que Sebastian Colton está em Malibu? Talvez você o conheça, ela tem VINTE E TRÊS ANOS e é conhecido por ser DIVERTIDO e FESTEIRO. Porém, as más línguas dizem que ele pode se tornar também MENTIROSO e IRRESPONSÁVEL. De qualquer modo, aposto muito que ela vai dar o que falar.

erika

OOC

Oi, oi. Eu sou a Min, eu uso pronomes femininos, tenho 16 espero que não seja um problema, costumo entrar de noite todos os dias da semana e no final de semana é quando eu estiver acordada e eu não tenho nenhum trigger em especifico, eu não gosto muito de gore mas não acho que tem muito espaço para isso nesse rpg.

icon e header os dois primeiros são meus favoritos mas como eu peguei os primeiros resultados da tag de headers do twitter, se estiver repetindo tem mais opções, esse também é o tumblr da Erika.

MUSE L, URASSAYA SPERBUND – você viu que ERIKA PRAPHASIRRIRAT está em malibu? talvez você a conheça, ela tem VINTE E TRÊS e é conhecida por ser OTIMISTA e RESPONSÁVEL. porém, as más línguas dizem que ela pode se tornar também ANSIOSA e SENSÍVEL. de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ela vai dar o que falar.

zane zac e amber

sou a harley, pronomes femininos, tenho 18 anos e meus triggers sao suicidio, estupro e auto mutilacao

muse x, hayley kiyoko – você viu que amber kimura está em malibu? talvez você a conheça, ela tem dezoito anos e é conhecida por ser extrovertida e determinada. porém, as más línguas dizem que ela pode se tornar também desastradae desconfiada. de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ela vai dar o que falar.

muse m, matt hitt – você viu que zachary “zac” barkerestá em malibu? talvez você o conheça, ele tem vinte e cinco anos e é conhecido por ser independente e confiante. porém, as más línguas dizem que ele pode se tornar também impulsivo e individualista. de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ele vai dar o que falar.

muse z, reece king – você viu que zane westbrook está em malibu? talvez você oi conheça, ele tem dezoito anos e é conhecido por ser otimista e extrovertido. porém, as más línguas dizem que ele pode se tornar também imprudente e hedonista. de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ele vai dar o que falar.

james

OOC

Oi! Eu sou Luiza e tenho 19 anos e gosto de ser chamada de Lu. Meu tempo disponível vai variar um pouco dependendo da semana, por causa da faculdade, mas sempre entrarei as segundas, terças e sextas e os fins de semana. E o que eu consigo pensar que me deixaria desconfortável na dash seria os triggers já listados mesmo.

MUSE E, ANSEL ELGORT – você viu que JAMES BENTLEY está em Malibu? Talvez você o conheça, ele tem VINTE E DOIS ANOS e é conhecido por ser CARISMÁTICO e INTELIGENTE. Porém, as más línguas dizem que ele pode se tornar também MANIPULADOR e IRRESPONSÁVEL. De qualquer modo, aposto muito que ele vai dar o que falar.

margot

ooc

Hey! Sou a Lou, tenho 17 anos, universitária de Veterinária, portanto a minha atividade fica mais restrita ao período da noite e dos finais de semana!

muse G, Maia Mitchell – você viu que Ophelia Margot Weaston está em malibu? talvez você a conheça, ela tem vinte anos e é conhecida por ser prática e audaciosa. porém, as más línguas dizem que ela pode se tornar também explosiva e desconfiada. de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ela vai dar o que falar.

ye-sol, eric & garrett (hiatus até dia 10)

OOC

Olá! Eu sou a Didi, muito prazer. Esse rp é muito lindinho e adorei os subplots! Prefiro ser chamada por ela, não tenho problema com triggers, e meu tempo é bem corridinho. Vi que a dash fica mais movimentada durante a noite e espero que isso não seja um problema em minha aplicação, costumo ser mais ativa na dash durante o dia, mas às vezes apareço durante a noite, o problema é que costumo ter reuniões durante a noite.

MUSE 16, FRANCISCO LACHOWSKI – você viu que GARRET O’DONNELL está em malibu? talvez você o conheça, ele tem VINTE E SEIS ANOS e é conhecido por ser PERSISTENTE e TRANQUILO. porém, as más línguas dizem que ele pode se tornar também CONVENCIDO e IMPULSIVO. de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ele vai dar o que falar.

MUSE S, LEE SUN BIN – você viu que CHA YE-SOL está em malibu? talvez você a conheça, ela tem VINTE E TRÊS ANOS e é conhecida por ser ATENCIOSA e CORAJOSA. porém, as más línguas dizem que ela pode se tornar também TEIMOSA e DESCONFIADA. de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ela vai dar o que falar.

MUSE P, HENRY CAVILL – você viu que ERIC LENNOX está em malibu? talvez você o conheça, ele tem TRINTA E CINCO ANOS e é conhecido por ser DISCIPLINADO e ASTUTO. porém, as más línguas dizem que ele pode se tornar também CONTROLADOR e EXIGENTE de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ele vai dar o que falar.

alice

muse h, camila queiroz – você viu que alice cooper está em malibu? talvez você a conheça, ela tem vinte e um anos e é conhecida por ser leale sincera. porém, as más línguas dizem que ela pode se tornar também ciumenta e explosiva. de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ela vai dar o que falar.

michael

OOC

Meu nome é Gabriel (Gabe), tenho 17 anos e os pronomes masculino mesmo (ele, dele). Tenho todo o tempo do mungo porque acabei a escola e por enquanto não to fazendo nada.

MUSE D, ALEX LANGE – você viu que MICHAEL ‘MICK’ VAUGHN está em malibu? talvez você o conheça, ele tem DEZESSETE anos e é conhecido por ser SIMPÁTICO e SINCERO. porém, as más línguas dizem que ele pode se tornar também TÍMIDO e IMATURO. de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ele vai dar o que falar.

cassidy

OOC

cotty

MUSE 1, DUA LIPA – você viu que CASSIDY willer está em malibu? talvez você a conheça, ela tem DEZENOVE ANOS e é conhecida por ser AUDACIOSA e AUTÁRQUICA. porém, as más línguas dizem que ela pode se tornar também PAVIO-CURTO e INCONSTANTE. de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ela vai dar o que falar.

saul

OOC

oi, sou a isabelle! prefiro que me chamem por ela/dela, tenho 16 anos e fico livre até as 20:30 quase sempre já que moro em portugal e o fuso dificulta um pouco. não possuo nenhum problema com nenhum dos assuntos dos triggers.

MUSE I, SAM CLAFIN – você viu que SAUL IRVING CORDELL está em malibu? talvez você o conheça, ele tem VINTE E QUATRO ANOS e é conhecido por ser TECNÓFOBO E PERCEPTIVO. porém, as más línguas dizem que ele pode se tornar também SILENCIOSO E SEM SENSO DE HUMOR. de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ele vai dar o que falar.

contato

kei

OOC

Olá! Meu nome é Ana Clara, mas pode me chamar de Jin. Tenho treze anos (mas sou mais inteligente do que imaginam q), fico mais disponível na parte da noite (já que estudo o dia inteiro, triste demais). Sou bem de boa em relação a tudo, então nada me deixa muito disconfortável (além daqueles gifs de terror, me dá uma agonia que misericórdia).

Muse X, Minatozaki Sana – você viu que Kei Katsuhira está em malibu? talvez você a conheça, ela tem dezessete anos e é conhecida por ser inteligente e social. porém, as más línguas dizem que ela pode se tornar também insegura e rancorosa. de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ela vai dar o que falar.

contato

coralee

OOC

oi, bb! eu sou a eden e prefiro ser chamada por pronomes femininos. tenho dezessete anos e estou cursando o último ano do ensino médio, o que deveria significar que eu tô me atolando em livros mas… no, thanks. eu só tenho as manhãs ocupadas, de resto estou mais do que livre. meus triggers envolvem violência sexual e automutilação.

MUSE 32, BARBARA PALVIN – você viu que CORALEE HEYZE DAWSON está em malibu? talvez você a conheça, ela tem VINTE E QUATRO ANOS e é conhecida por ser DETERMINADA e CARISMÁTICA. porém, as más línguas dizem que ela pode se tornar também IMPULSIVA e INSEGURA. de qualquer modo, aposto muito que ela vai dar o que falar.

0 notes