entitlement funding

anonymous asked:

What If one of the fakes had a high school reunion or something like that and just took the crew and it somehow ended in a shoot out with the cops.

Let’s just be clear, it’s not a pride thing. Geoff has never cared what people said about him, not outside a professional sense anyway; he knew exactly who he was, what he was capable of, even before he’d taken an entire city to its knees. So it’s not that he felt the need to prove himself, it’s just that there’s something particular about high school trauma, isn’t there? Something that lingers, even when it shouldn’t, something that emerges from even the most upstanding adults when thrown back together for a reunion, the bullies and the bullied, all desperate to show what they’ve become.

Geoff’s last high school was nothing like he’d ever been to before, a snobby upper-crust hellhole he was only in because his Ma’s third husband pulled some strings, and the other students were quick to point out just how much he didn’t belong. Between the tattoos and the smoking, the lazy looks and slow sneering drawl, it was always all too easy to label Geoff a loser, a drop out, trailer park trash everyone knew would be washing their cars one day. Never mind that he scored higher than most of his cohort even when skipping more or less every class, never mind that he is possibly the most well-read crime-lord in the country, back then he had an image and teenagers are relentless. Not that Geoff was all that phased even at the time, only a year or so away from the day he picked up his first gun and never looked back, but it’s the principal of the thing.

So when an invite forwards through from an email so old he’d forgotten he’d even made it Geoff has to laugh. Then pause, consider, hatch an utterly ridiculous idea, and laugh some more. Because he might not care, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy ruining the night for all the pathetic stuck-up nobodies he went to school with; rubbing your success in everyone’s faces is what reunions are for, after all. The fact that it has a theme, that it is masquerade of all things, really just cements Geoff’s resolve to drag his crew halfway across the country into one of the strangest nights of their lives.

Everyone knows the option to bring a guest to these events is, in reality, the offer to bring a romantic partner, singular, but it isn’t technically stated. There are no rules barring Geoff from RSVP-ing for 7, so that’s exactly what he does. Sure he receives a few increasingly less polite emails suggesting he’d been mistaken but he doesn’t even bother opening them, doesn’t try to clarify that he is bringing his friends, his family, not his entire harem. Let them talk; they’d do it anyway. Plus, it’s not like the Fake’s aren’t all entirely too pleased with the suggestion, cackling hyenas who spend the next few weeks laying it on thick, batting their eyes and blowing Geoff kisses, picking out increasingly absurd meet-cute stories to tell his scandalised classmates. Between creating new identities and playing dress up in masks and suits they couldn’t be happier.

Masks or not they catch every eye in the room when they make their entrance and why wouldn’t they; Geoff and his unusual request must have been the talk of the rumour mill and identity hidden or not clearly this must be Geoff, it’s not like anyone else brought along 6 dates. As stage whispers hit a dull roar it’s obvious no one was prepared for what they were seeing, perhaps imagined instead stained tank tops and a string of strung-out baby mama’s, not expensively tailored suits and an attractively refined entourage. Paying the noise no heed Geoff swans into the room with Jack looking elegant on one arm, Gavin at his most Ken-doll glamorous tucked under the other, flanked on either side by Ryan, Michael, Jeremy and Ray, all dressed to impress.

Shock and jealousy aren’t good looks on anyone, let alone rich brats turned elitist yuppies, so Geoff’s classmates behave just as poorly as he’d anticipated, years and newfound maturity doing nothing to stop the tittering laughter, the sneers and judgmental looks, fake pleasantry and condescending questions. But then, his crew didn’t exactly play nice with them either.

Ray and Jeremy immediately beeline to the food table and bar, respectively, and each set themselves up and settle in for the night; loud, obnoxious and tactlessly talking about everyone around them. When asked about themselves or their relationship to Geoff they’re both frustratingly vague, Jeremy chattering away without saying much at all and Ray simply staring people down until they can’t bear the tension.

Michael and Ryan set off together to explore the room but quickly separate to accommodate their vastly different methods of surveillance. Ryan skulks into the background, ducking numerous attempts to catch his interest in favour of fading into unlit corners and empty nooks, frightening the life out of anyone trying to slip away for some private time. Michael, on the other hand, seems determined to be the life of the party, cheerfully making conversation only to laugh in the face of every so-called achievement, ruffling feathers and causing major offence wherever he goes.

Gavin slinks off like a man on a mission and doesn’t come back for over an hour, offering no explanation for the absence beyond a dangerously self-satisfied smirk. His work becomes obvious soon enough anyway, once the yelling starts; Geoff’s two main high-school tormentors, mentioned only in passing stories over the years, simultaneously having huge, public, relationship-ending blow ups with each of their significant others. What are the odds? Across the hall Gavin laughs, all tinkling glass and sparkling charm, smoothly working the room like Michael’s mirror opposite.

Jack stays at Geoff’s side all night, hackles raised into something abnormally cold and unimpressed any time someone comes up to speak to them, protective instincts in full force no matter how often Geoff claims to be unaffected. He fills her in on all the worst gossip about those who approach, and as the night progresses and general unease begins to spread Jack mellows, sinking back into something sweet and mocking, somehow even more unsettling playing docile arm-candy than she was rabid guard dog.

Throughout the night the Fake AH Crew remain a key topic of every casual conversation; they might have been regardless, even this far from Los Santos no one can get enough of their scandals, but with the huge heist pulled just last week there was no way to avoid it, everyone has their two cents, their praise and condemnation. It’s too funny, the whole crew killing themselves trying not to break character, to laugh or correct or manipulate the conversation but all their self-control is well rewarded in the end.

Half the room removed their masks less than an hour into the night; too difficult to eat and talk and drink in, too vain to keep their hard earned looks covered, so it’s not at all strange when the Fake’s start to follow suit. Jeremy and Ray start it, the newest member and the one caught on camera the least often, casually dropping their masks mid-conversation. They each get a confused squint or two, a double glance, a few individuals trying to place them, remember how they’d met before, why they were so familiar.

Next came Gavin and Michael, having goaded each other out onto the dance-floor they were playing as much as they were moving to the music, laughing and grappling and generally making a bit of a scene. They snatch off each other’s masks as they play and the looks double, because alone they’re each distinctive but together, together, people have seen those faces together, somewhere they’ve seen them and so often together..

Last is Jack and Geoff, more graceful than their counterparts and moving with far more purpose they reveal their faces in the centre of the room and, like a party trick, they instantly catch the whole room’s attention. Out of context, in ones and twos where they don’t belong, the members of the FAHC could be mistaken but no one in the country would fail to recognise Ramsey and Patillo, the kingpin and his right hand, rulers of the most well-known gang in the US. And here they stand, casually mingling at a high school reunion.

In the calm before the storm the crew gravitates back towards one another, can almost see the cogs turning around them, the lightbulbs flickering on in a slow ripple spreading out across the room, disbelief and the first hint of horror swirling together as people start unconsciously reaching for their phones. As Ryan slips back out and wanders over, the last still masked, always masked, the chatter seems to crescendo then crash into something still and almost silent as a room full of entitled trust-fund babies recognise their own terror.

Finally uncovered and flanked by his family Geoff’s grin creeps across his face, slow and violent and more confirmation than anyone needed as he lets the oppressive tension sit for a long moment, arms spreading out to his sides like a magician revealing a clever trick before he breaks the silence; Surprise motherfuckers.

Guns are pulled from jackets and from there it’s all running and screaming, no honour or courage, just a stampede for the exits to the sound of cackling laughter and the occasional aimless pot-shot. The Fake’s aren’t looking for lives, not worth the hassle really, and this job certainly has no monetary reward beyond the wallets Geoff’s filthy little thieves have no doubt absconded with, but the fear in the air is delightful and even the sound of incoming sirens can’t ruin the mood. If anything it only hypes them up further, all savage grins and ramping excitement as they make for doors, reloading their weapons and pumping themselves up for a whole new police force to terrorise, Geoff’s magnificent little miscreants.

On the way out they pass a wall of yearbook photos, blown up large and captioned with names and all the old superlative awards. Ryan stumbles to a halt and snorts, snatching one off the wall and tucking it into his jacket to take back to the penthouse, though not before flashing the Lads a glance at that all too recognisable face, sending them into peals of screeching laughter as they pour out into the night. Geoffrey Fink; Least likely to succeed. 

“I think the most important thing for you to do in the meantime is live. It is a very involving job, which takes much concentration and practice.”

Jewelle Gomez born 1948 in Boston, Massachusetts is an American author, poet, critic and playwright. She lived and worked in New York City for twenty-two years working in public television, theatre as well as philanthropy before relocating to the West Coast. Her writing—fiction, poetry, essays and cultural criticism—has appeared in a wide variety of venues, both feminist and mainstream. Her work often intersects and addresses multiple ethnicities as well as the ideals of lesbian/feminism and issues. She has been interviewed for several documentaries focused on LGBT rights and culture.

Gomez was raised by her great-grandmother, Grace, who was born on Indian land in Iowa to an African-American mother and Ioway father. Grace returned to New England before she was fourteen, when her father died and was married to John E. Morandus, a Wampanoag and descendant of Massasoit, the sachem for whom Massachusetts was named.


Growing up in the 1950s and 1960s she was shaped socially and politically by the close family ties with her great grandmother, Grace and grandmother Lydia. Their history of independence as well as marginalization in an African-American community are referenced throughout her work. “Grace A.” from the collection Don’t Explain is an early example. During her high school and college years Gomez was involved with Black political and social movements which is reflected in much of her writing. Subsequent years in New York City she spent in Black theatre including work with the Frank Silvera Writers Workshop and many years as a stage manager for off Broadway productions.

During this time she became involved in lesbian feminist activism and magazine publication. She was a member of the CONDITIONS, a lesbian feminist literary magazine. More of Gomez’s recent writing has begun to reflect her Native American (Ioway, Wampanoag) heritage.

Gomez is the author of seven books, including the double Lambda Literary Award winning novel The Gilda Stories . This novel has been in print since 1991 and reframes the traditional vampire mythology, taking a lesbian feminist perspective; it is an adventure about an escaped slave who comes of age over two hundred years. According to scholar Elyce Rae Helford, “Each stage of Gilda’s personal voyage is also a study of life as part of multiple communities, all at the margins of mainstream white middle-class America.”


She also authored the theatrical adaptation of her novel Bones and Ash which in 1996 toured thirteen U.S. cities performed by the Urban Bush Women Company. The book, which remains in print, was also issued by the Quality Paperback Book Club in an edition including the play.

Her other books include Don’t Explain, a collection of short fiction; 43 Septembers, a collection of personal/political essays; and Oral Tradition: Selected Poems Old and New.

Her fiction and poetry is included in over one hundred anthologies including the first anthology of Black speculative fiction, Dark Matter: A Century of African American Speculative Fiction edited by Sheree R. Thomas; Home Girls: a Black feminist Anthology from Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press and Best American Poetry of 2001 edited by Robert Hass.

Gomez has written literary and film criticism for numerous publications including The Village Voice, The San Francisco Chronicle, Ms. Magazine and Black Scholar.

She’s been interviewed in periodicals and journals over the past twenty-five years including a September 1993 Advocate article where writer Victoria Brownworthdiscussed her writing origins and political interests. In the Journal of Lesbian Studies (Vol. 5, #3) she was interviewed for an article entitled “Funding Lesbian Activism,” which linked her career in philanthropy with her political roots. She’s also interviewed in the 1999 film produced for Public Television, After Stonewall, directed by John Scagliotti.


Her newest work includes a forthcoming comic novel, Televised, recounting the lives of survivors of the Black Nationalist movement, which was excerpted in the anthology Gumbo.

She authored a play about James Baldwin in 2010 in collaboration with Harry Waters Jr., an actor and professor in the theatre department at MacAlester College.Readings have been held in San Francisco at Intersection for the Arts at a seminar on Baldwin at Carleton College in Northfield, MN, at the Yellow Springs Writers Workshop in Ohio, AfroSolo Festival and the 2009 National Black Theatre Festival Gomez and Waters were interviewed on the public radio program Fresh Fruit on KFAIby host Dixie Trechel in 2008. The segment also includes two short readings from the script.

Gomez was on the original staff of Say Brother (now Basic Black), one of the first weekly Black television shows (WGBH-TV Boston, 1968), and was on the founding board of the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD) in 1984.


She also served on the early boards of the Astraea Lesbian Foundation and the Open Meadows Foundation, both devoted to funding women’s organizations and activities. She’s been a member of the board of the Cornell University Human Sexuality Archives and the advisory board of the James Hormel LGBT Center of the main San Francisco Public Library. She was a member of the loose-knit philanthropic collective founded in San Francisco in 1998 called 100 Lesbians and Our Friends. The group, co-founded by Andrea Gillespie and Diane Sabin, was designed to educate lesbians who were culturally miseducated—as women—about the use of money and benefits of philanthropy. The philosophy of making “stretch gifts” (not reducing contributions already being made) to lesbian groups and projects raised more than $200,000 in two years.

She was a commencement speaker at the University of California at Los Angeles Queer Commencement and acted as a keynote speaker twice for Gay Pride in New York City and as a host for Pride San Francisco.[

She and her partner, Dr. Diane Sabin, were among the litigants against the state of California suing for the right to legal marriage. The case was brought to the courts by the City Attorney of San Francisco, the National Center for Lesbian Rights and the American Civil Liberties Union. She has written extensively about gay rights since the 1980s, including articles on equal marriage in Ms. Magazine and has been quoted extensively during the court case. In May 2008 the Supreme Court ruled in favor of the litigants, allowing marriage between same-sex couples in the state of California. Such ceremonies may legally begin after thirty days, which allow municipalities to make administrative changes. They were among 18,000 couples married in California before (Proposition 8), which banned further same-sex marriages in California, was approved by the voters on  November 4, 2008.


Formerly the executive director of the Poetry Center and American Poetry Archives at San Francisco State University, she has also had a long career in philanthropy. She was the director of Cultural Equity Grants at the San Francisco Arts Commission and the director of the Literature Program for the New York State Council on the Arts.

She has presented lectures and taught at numerous institutions of higher learning including San Francisco State University, Hunter College, Rutgers University, New College of California, Grinnell College, San Diego City College, The Ohio State University and the University of Washington (Seattle). She is the former director of the Literature Program at the New York State Council on the Arts and of Cultural Equity Grants at the San Francisco Arts Commission.She also served as executive director of the Poetry Center and American Poetry Archives at San Francisco State University.

She is currently employed as Director of Grants and Community Initiatives for Horizons Foundation,the oldest lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender foundation in the US. She serves as the President of the San Francisco Public Library Commission.


I Don’t Need You, Pt. 1

Originally posted by camera-seventeen


Word count: 1107

Description:  Princess Y/N is born with all the cards stacked against her and a fighting spirit.  She doesn’t need anyone to help her and she certainly doesn’t need a man. Too bad her parents have other plans.

Genre: undecided (probably all), Mature content (Explicit language, for now).

Prologue



     “Y/N!!” I startle as my mother screeches like a banshee for me. I slowly slink towards the exit, trying to make my daring escape. I am just steps from the sprawling expanse of garden that dominates most of our family property. Do not engage. Do not engage. Just move slowly and quietly, and you’ll be gone before she can catch you. I slowly inch my way closer to my freedom.  Almost there. “And where do you think you’re going, brat?” I hear the haughty taunt of the very bastard I’m desperately trying to avoid meeting with. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, you candy haired freak.” His cheeks turn an impressive shade of strawberry, rivaling his ridiculous hair.

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Reticent

Originally posted by hobisu

(A/N: this is coming out of an extreme amount of anger and resentment to whoever decided that putting BTS in school uniforms (and maroon ones at that) was a good idea. It hurts me. Anyways. Enjoy some boarding school!Jungkook.)

Nervously, you tugged down the hem of your maroon plaid skirt and shifted your backpack on your tense shoulders. New schools were always awful, but this one was especially daunting. A private boarding school where everyone had known each other since diapers?

You basically wanted to shrivel into an inconspicuous pile of nothing.

Navigating the halls of the main academic building, you kept your head down, avoiding the curious stares of the pretty, entitled trust fund kids who roamed about, getting ready for the first day of class. You wanted to evade as much attention as possible and seamlessly dissolve into the background. You didn’t have piles of money in the bank, you didn’t spray yourself with Gucci perfume every morning, and you certainly didn’t have a Maserati sitting in the school garage. You were not one of them and never would be, so your goal was to blend in.

But of course, life can be cruel.

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Just my two cents...

If you want to attract men with money, you have to look like money. If you want to attract intelligent and witty men, then you yourself need to be intelligent and witty or at least portray a level of intelligence and class. If you want a respectable man, you must demand respect at all costs. If you want a man to look at you and think “Damn, she is smokin’ hot!!!” then you must ooze all things sensual and sexy. You can achieve all these qualities and/or characteristics with ease, but you have to be consistent and you CANNOT walk around with an attitude or sense of entitlement. Sure, there will be plenty of individuals who deserve nothing more than a good cussing out. However, that is not how you create the foundation for success in your life whether it be vanilla or sugar.

Way too often, in my daily life do I see endless “girls” (I tend to utilize “girls” instead of women, because a true woman knows how to conduct herself appropriately) who simply expect that they should just be given lavish and luxurious items simply because they are “beautiful”. Newsflash, sweetheart there an immense amount of beautiful people in the world. When that man asks you what you have to offer, you cannot always just get angry and immediately jump to the conclusion that he is salty. Because there is undeniable truth with the words he has just uttered. In a “normal” relationship, would you simply choose a random man off the street to have a committed relationship with? I think not!! Those men have to come to the table with more than just a nice body or bomb dick, right? They need some type of financial security, intelligence, romantic skills, humor, and whatever else you have on your check off list. Well, the same rules apply with sex work. Sure, you are smart, pretty, have this and that going for you. These old men should be lucky to have a young, vibrant girl on their arm, right? Well, I agree you are damn right. But just like they want arm candy, hot and passionate sex, or tantalizing companionship; we want to be spoiled beyond our wildest dreams. But that takes time and doesn’t happen overnight (more so with sugaring, but we can state this in generalized terms).

You don’t want to be seen as a piece of meat and they don’t want to be utilized like an ATM (in most cases, but that’s a different topic). If you jump into any avenue of sex work, you should know and understand that it is just that, WORK! Stop complaining about why you aren’t getting any views on your profile, or why no one is talking to you when you are out freestyling, or making excuses about why men or women are not interested in you. Take your ass home, sit down and analyze and reevaluate how you can improve your circumstances, so you can get better results the next time.

I so tired of the same old complaints. Yes, we all know the differences between races, shapes, sizes, and overall physical aesthetics that will naturally make others appear more desirable than others, but if you put in the work you will reap the benefits within time. But sitting around complaining, hating on other lovely sex workers who are putting in the work, or calling ever single damn man “salt” is not going to make you prosper. Imagine if you had that same mentality in your vanilla life. You really think you are going to get a promotion if you don’t put in some overtime, kick ass on that presentation, or stay later when your coworkers are off at happy hour? Success does not come easy. NO ONE owes you a damn thing. You are not entitled to their funds, but what you can be entitled to is disappointment if you refuse to not but in the necessary work. Stop complaining and start evaluating. The more you focus on your own craft, the less time you have to worry about what other people are doing. Focus on your strengths.

But that’s just my two cents…

Positive vibes, prosperity, and safety to all my lovely sex workers worldwide.

XOXO,

Tall

youtube

GET HANNAH HART ON ELLEN PROJECT!

Here is the letter that will be sent to The Ellen DeGeneres Show. By reblogging this letter and sharing it, you will have your name added to the letter. You can also email me (bigfootincanada@gmail.com) or message me here to have your name added.

LET’S GET THIS TO HAPPEN!

Dear Ellen,

For many years you have brought inspirational people on to your show to share their stories and recognize how they have affected and changed the lives of the people around them and I have a person that I would like to tell you about.

As you know, there is a whole world of internet personalities that have been catching the attention of the entertainment world the past few years for various reasons, be it through crossing over to mainstream platforms, such as television and movies, through their social medias like Vine and Instagram, and most importantly, through the content they are creating on their YouTube channels. There is one such YouTuber that I personally believe stands out as an inspirational figure and should have her name more well-known for the work that she does.

The person I speak of is Hannah Hart, a young woman who came to her fame by chance, after posting a video of herself drunkenly attempting to make a grilled cheese sandwich in her sister’s kitchen, all the while filming the event for a friend back home. As you can imagine things did not necessarily turn out as planned. Not only did the sandwich become just toast because there was no cheese in the house but also in how this simple video was shared across social medias to friends and then to the internet to become a viral hit. From there, more videos were encouraged and requested by the public and this eventually led to an unplanned career change for the Berkley graduate.

But Hannah’s intoxicated culinary entertainment is not why I am writing to you. It is the community that has come together because of this 27yr old San Franciscan. After finding increased success on her Youtube channel, “My Drunk Kitchen”, Hannah’s growing fanbase began to feel a more personal connection to her as she branched out into other ways to communicate with her audience and share more meaningful, personal content with them. It is this connection that lead to a major undertaking for Hannah in 2013. Hannah created a tour entitled, “”Hello, Harto”, funded by her community through an Indiegogo campaign that raised over $223,000. This after only asking for $50,000.  The tour that Hannah created was not just an opportunity for fans to meet the YouTuber but also a chance to give back to their local communities, as that is something personal for Hannah. Instead of doing meet-up events at bars or recreation centres, fans signed up to volunteer at local food banks and worked alongside Hart to sort, package or serve food to those in need. After a 20-city tour across the US and Canada, the Hello, Harto tour collected over 100,000lbs of food for various organizations. The tour continued on to the Southern Hemisphere in 2014 and parts of Europe may still in the cards for the future.

Even though the tour across North America has ended, the volunteering has not. A new program called “Have A Hart Day” has taken over and there are crews of volunteers that have continued in some of the cities that were visited as well as spread to other North American communities and now, even more internationally. There are food banks and local charities in the UK, Canada, USA, Australia and New Zealand hosting teams of people, all there in the name of Hannah Hart. Most of those working together to help their communities never have met prior to their volunteering. Every month there seems to be a new group popping up to volunteer in their city. I myself have volunteered in Vancouver, BC and flew to Los Angeles earlier this year to have the opportunity to participate once again. It is through this promotion of helping one another and Hannah’s encouragement that has facilitated fans to become friends and thus has created an online community that grows in numbers everyday.

Hannah is also a significant role model within the YouTube LGBTQ community as well and her honest, heartfelt advice that she gives to the people that reach out to her, has changed people’s lives as well as saved a few. Encouraging words such as “No judging” or “Nobody is wired wrong, because there’s no wrong and right in the way we are” and “Practice Reckless Optimism” speak louder to the many youth that look up to her than the pamphlets they get in schools or the PSAs on television. Hannah recently took her advice to the next level and accomplished a life-long dream by publishing a book that was part cookbook, part life advice, which is now a NY Times Best-Seller.

Hannah currently sits with 1.7million subscribers between her two channels on YouTube, uploads 2 videos per week, recently co-stared in the movie “Camp Takota”, which was one of the first movies distributed exclusively online, tours throughout the year in a comedy show that is written and performed by herself and two other YouTubers, Grace Helbig & Mamrie Hart (both of which you will undoubtedly be hearing more from as they are both amazing comediennes), and even was invited to meet with President Obama earlier this year to speak on how to reach American youth regarding health care, all the while continuing to be an inspiration to the numerous fans that follow her.

One of the hardest things people seem to face in the world now is the feeling of being alone or having no one to turn to, and through her actions, encouragement, positivity and honest words of advice, Hannah Hart has helped bring together a world of strangers to help and support one another. She has created a community that reaches out to each other, and even to her, in times of need. It doesn’t matter if someone is 16 years old living in Finland or is 45 and resides in Chicago; we have all come together because of her.

I strongly believe that Hannah’s message of embracing one’s self and her ability to bring people together needs to be shared beyond the screens of the internet and that you too, Ellen, will see the amazing, caring heart that this young woman is able to fit into her small frame. 

Thank you for taking the time to read this letter and I hope that our community will see Hannah fulfill one of her aspirations to be a guest on your show. Below I have included a list of people within her community that love and support her.

anonymous asked:

Top 5 designers/dresses for Caroline in AH/AU as well as royal-vampire world ^^ (include pictures if you want).

i wasn’t gonna answer this since @goldcaught already pretty much nailed it on the head HERE *insert prayer hands emoji*, but sharing the things caroline could/would/should wear in some of the KC AUs of my dreams has been festering in my brain ever since i got this, so here i go!

1. Ersa Atelier wedding couture for the human royalty!AU epilogue i may or may not have already written bc i am terribly impatient to get to the happy ending instead of dealing with the necessary angst i’ve envisioned lmao.

2. Alexandre Vauthier for the one where Caroline is a self-made fashion mogul who definitely, without a doubt, does not have time to indulge her lawyer’s arrogant younger brother. No matter how fucking hot he is.

She barely had a minute to catch her breath when a knock on the glass door of her office had her looking up from the tedious projection reports her assistant had just dropped off, eager for any kind of distraction.

Except for the one that presented itself.

“Go away,” she growled at the unwelcome figure in her doorway. “I’m busy.”

Unable, or more likely unwilling to take a hint, Klaus stepped into her office with that annoying grin of someone who was about to finally get their way.

“I was promised a date—”

“You bid on shadowing me at my company for a day, not a date,” she corrected him quickly with a glare.

“So you admit you’re mine for the day?”

The deliberate emphasis he placed on the word mine, coupled with his perceptive stare made Caroline itch for some kind of loophole to get out of this deal she’d made with last night’s charity auction. 

Just because Klaus Mikaelson had those charming dimples and dark blonde curls a girl could fantasize running her fingers through didn’t mean she was ready to give up her ban on entitled, spoiled little trust-fund brats.

A refrain she found herself having to repeat far too often lately.

3. Ulyana Sergeenko for the times when she wants something a little more whimsical for traipsing through lavender fields and sunning on yachts during their extended tours through France.

4. Krikor Jabotian featuring an Original!Caroline who has become obsessed with creating a hybrid army, finding the perfect first candidate in the form of young, hot-headed werewolf, Klaus. 

The soft scratch of charcoal on paper echoed loudly in the room to Caroline’s ancient, over-developed sense of hearing, but not quite enough to hide Klaus’ sharp inhale.

She couldn’t help the fleeting grin, feeling something resembling satisfaction at how simple getting a reaction from him proved to be. To be so young, she thought with a brief wave of nostalgia. The fact that he could be so titillated by a mere glimpse of her leg made her all the more curious about her little werewolf’s… experience, so to speak.

“Klaus,” she began in deceptively casual voice, “have you ever been with a woman?” Glancing over to see the effect of her abrupt question, she wasn’t disappointed when met with his suddenly rigid posture.

“I’m not a child, Caroline,” he ground out in what she perceived to be a rather childish manner, making her laugh. “Nor the untried boy you insist on treating me as.”

Any sign of her previous amusement fell from her face, and she could see in his eyes the moment he realized he’d overstepped.  

“And how is it you think I should treat you?” she asked softly, rising from her position on the chaise and stalking slowly towards him. The question was no less dangerous for her gentle tone, and she was pleased to note his nervous swallow. Good.

The desire to punish him for his careless remark overrode any immediate thoughts of mercy and Caroline wasn’t sure which she wanted more just then: to bite him until he screamed her name, or brutally kiss him into submission. Maybe she’d do both. Anything to curb that sharp little tongue of his.

Klaus set aside his sketchbook as she came to stand in front of him, wetting his lips instinctively like he always did whenever she was this close.

“I just thought that we…” He shifted uncomfortably, hesitating as the pulse in his neck throbbed. “When you asked me to come with you here, I thought it meant…” 

She knew exactly what he thought it’d meant, could read it clearly in his hungry eyes. Did he honestly think she hadn’t noticed all the covert glances? The lingering touches when he ushered her through a door or helped her out of a car? Her irritation towards him softened a bit as she took a seat next to him on the couch, an idea forming.

“I would take you to my bed this very instant and not let you leave for hours if—”

If what?” he interrupted impulsively, causing her to bite her lip to keep from laughing at his obvious eagerness.

“If you answer my next question honestly.” 

He looked a little wary that she would place such stakes on something so seemingly simple, but said nothing, fearing she’d change her mind.

“What would you do with an eternity at your disposal?”

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “I’m a werewolf, Caroline. It’s impossible, and I don’t concern myself with hypotheticals. It’s pointless.”

“Yes, but if it somehow was?” she pressed. “Where would you want to go? Where would you like most to be in fifty years? In a thousand?” 

He stared at her intently, trying to gauge her response to whatever he was obviously thinking. 

“Wherever you are,” he finally answered.

After a minute of stunned silence, Caroline stood up abruptly, grabbing his hand and pulling him in the direction of her suite.

Did she say hours? She meant days.

And whenever they finally decided to surface for air, she’d tell him all about the doppelgänger… and what she knew of hybrids.

5. Zuhair Murad for the funerals she attends not to pay her respects, but to make a scene and remind everyone there who exactly put the guest of honor in that coffin. And if she and Klaus systematically defile the altar afterwards— well, she’s gonna look good for that too.

youtube

This is a video of my favourite Western Australian Senator, Scott Ludlam, laying the verbal smackdown on Australia’s crazily conservative Prime Minister, Tony Abbott.

“Prime Minister, you are welcome to take your heartless, racist exploitation of people’s fears and ram it as far from Western Australia as your taxpayer-funded travel entitlements can take you,” -Scott Ludlam

Worth a watch, even if you aren’t Australian. 

We could all take lessons on how to dress down our foes from him.

businesswire.com
Oregon State Treasurer Ted Wheeler Investing in Renewable Energy | Business Wire

Oregon State Treasurer Ted Wheeler, Pegasus Capital Advisors and R20-Regions of Climate Action hosted a summit entitled “Public Pension Fund Investments & Investing in Renewables: Opportunities and Challenges” on June 5 on the campus of Portland State University.

YES! This is amazing. 

anonymous asked:

Hi! :) I wanted to ask you : what happened with the rovers deal? I wasn't really involved when it happened and I've always thought that L wanted to buy the team and made a fundraiser, but then the CEOs (?) of the club rejected him unexpectedly! Now I see it was about image problems and management! Do you know something like a master post that explains it? Thank you very much! Have a nice day!

HI love.

UGH it was messy. He got screwed over. Get ready for the longest masterpost of your life:

Keep reading

youtube

senator Scott Ludlam of Australian political party, The Greens, welcomed prime minister Tony Abbott to visit Western Australia with this zinger of a speech. 

my personal favourite lines:

  • Mr Prime Minister, at your next press conference we invite you to leave your excruciatingly boring three-word slogans at home.
  • Just as the reign of the dinosaurs was cut short to their great surprise, it may be that the Abbott government will appear as nothing more than a thin, greasy layer in the core sample of future political scientists drilling back into the early years of the 21st century.
  • Prime Minister you are welcome to take your heartless, racist exploitation of people’s fears and ram it as far from Western Australia as your taxpayer-funded travel entitlements can take you.

also, he’s got serious Ben Wyatt tones

MOLOKAI ALSO SAYS "NO!" TO US DEPT OF INTERIOR

Honolulu Star-Advertiser - June 29, 2014

The Native Hawaiian community on Molokai added its voice to the growing chorus of those who are rejecting a federal proposal that could lead to a formal U.S. relationship with a potential Native Hawaiian government.

More than 125 people attended a hearing at Kaunakakai Elementary School and the vast majority of the more than 40 people who testified offered a resounding repudiation of federal recognition.

“It has become painfully obvious from these hearings that those Hawaiian leaders who have called you here in hopes of protecting our entitlements and federal funding have done so without consulting their people,” declared veteran Molokai activist Walter Ritte. “The majority is in no mood to continue a subservient relationship with the United States.”

The hearing featured raised voices, anger and tears but, for the most part, audience members and speakers were courteous in contrast to last week’s O`ahu hearings, which were punctuated by intimidating testimony, boos and jeers.

The same relatively cordial tone was seen at Friday’s hearing on Lāna`i, where about 50 people attended and a handful testified primarily against federal recognition.

With Saturday’s hearing, the Department of the Interior panel has reached the halfway point of its two-week, 15-meeting Hawai`i tour in which it is asking whether the department should launch a rule-making process that could set the framework for re-establishing a government-to-government relationship with Native Hawaiians.

Eight more hearings remain in Hawai`i, starting Monday night on Kaua`i. Additional meetings will be held in Native American communities on the mainland, and the department will take written comments well into August….

…But many of those who did come to the hearing took the opportunity to vent, often angrily, about the 1893 overthrow of Queen Lili`uokalani, about stolen lands and injustices. Many said they didn’t want to settle for being an Indian tribe, and others said they were standing up on behalf of the deposed Hawaiian kingdom.

“I’m not an American,” Hanohano Naehu declared repeatedly. He then turned to the panel and said: “Shame on you guys for perpetuating the illegality. Shame on you for perpetuating the fraud.”

Kanoe Davis of Kaunakakai said Native Hawaiians need “clarity and truth” about the federal-recognition issue.

“How do we establish government-to-government when we are in fact supposed to be our own nation?” she said. “We’re settling for crumbs when we actually own the cookie.”

Many who testified described the process as rushed and pushed forward without allowing those affected to examine the issues and formulate opinions.

Lynn DeCoite, a third-generation Hawaiian homesteader, blasted the department for not doing enough to inform and educate the community.

“In my opinion, you have put the cart before the horse,” DeCoite said. “We should know the benefits beforehand and not create the government to find out the benefits later. It’s as if you, this department, has put a choke chain around our Hawaiian people. You guys keep us at arm’s length and try to use us as puppets.”

Sam Kealoha, a third-generation Army veteran, raised his voice in frustration: “The river of justice may be flowing (for tribes on the mainland) but the river from mauka to makai – the free flow of justice, there is no water.

"You guys are getting beat up on every island,” George Aiwohi told the panel. “But – you know what? – this is our chance to speak. We waited 121 years for this….”