#wild hawthorn press

[banffcentrelibraryandarchives]

Artists’ Book Display for June, 2023 

We’re back! The Paul D. Fleck Library and Archives are currently open for Banff Centre staff, artists, and participants, and we’re excited to continue sharing our artists’ book collection. We have more limited hours and fewer staff than previous years, so we’re going to be changing out the display every month, instead of every week. 

Bathroom Contemplation. Haegue Yang. Berlin: Wiens Verlag, 2013.

Objects in the Mirror are Closer Than They Appear. Amy Guggenheim. Self-published, 1994.

Head Paintings. Robert Fones. Toronto: Coach House Books, 1997.

Little Sermons Series. Ian Hamilton Finlay and Ian Gardner. Lanark, Scotland: Wild Hawthorn Press, 1982.

#artists' books #female artists #banff centre #book studies #book art #small press #libraries #library displays #books and libraries #Ian Hamilton Finlay #wild hawthorn press #robert fones #amy guggenheim #haegue yang

[garadinervi]

Ian Hamilton Finlay and Ron Costley, Sails / Waves 2, (card printed on both sides; design for wall ceramic, screen print), Wild Hawthorn Press, Edinburgh, [1971] [Granary Books, New York, NY]

#art #drawing #visual writing #card #ian hamilton finlay #ron costley #the wild hawthorn press #granary books #1970s

[starlightshadowsworld]

So after reading bsd chapter 114, I went back to where Fyodor faces Ace.

Season 3 episode 4 aka chapter 42 of the manga.

Because that's the only other time I can think of where we see Fyodor's "ability" at work.

It's when he kills Karma, which he does by pressing his fingers against his forehead.

It's after the Guild arc so we know Hawthorn was working with him.

So Fyodor could've pulled the same trick he did with the guard that tried to arrest him.

So that makes sense.

What suprised me though was what the guard says to Karma in the beginning of the episode.

"Watch yourself, he'll trick your soul right out your body. His ability is dangerous to say the least."

Asagiri you sneaky bastard.

The fact too that this whole endeavour involves Fyodor telling Ace and Karma his ability is about manipulating consciousnesses and space.

And it all being a lie too.

Wild, I wouldn't be suprised if there was more in there but that's all I could find of note.

#bsd 114 #bsd manga #bsd manga spoilers #bsd fyodor #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd 114 spoilers

[justgayloringeverthrone]

So I'm re-reading The Hunger Games trilogy and this ine specific moment at the end of the first book has me going feral:

"When the train makes a brief stop for fuel, we're (Katniss and Peeta) allowed to go outside for some fresh air. There's no longer any need to guard us. Peeta and I walk down along the track, hand in hand, and I can't find anything to say now that we're alone. He stops to gather a bunch of flowers for me. When he presents them, I work hard to look pleased. Because he can't know that the pink-and-white flowers are the tops of wild onions and only remind me ih the hours I've spent gathering them with Gale."

Like. I'm sorry. Katniss Everdeen, I beg your finest pardon? You kissed this man multiple times, you slept with your body pressed up tightly against his for many nights, the whole country thinks you two are together AND the two of you just went through one of the most traumatizing thing ssomeone can together and you're thinking of Gale Hawthorne, your "best friend"?

Like I'm sorry, I you pick flowers for your woman and she thinks of another man, that ain't your woman.

I am so excited over this, this is undeniable Everthrone proof. I am convinced that people who don't ship Everthrone have read the books halfway with a blindfold on. She thinks of Gale despite everything, she loves him so much she would rather hunt and gather with him through the mud, for survival, for hours than take a short walk with this 5'3 Taylor Swift male knock-off where he picks her flowers.

And yes, I am going a bit overboard with the Everthrone adoration, but basically you get the point and I'm a fucking fangirl deep on the inside, in my heart, so I don't really care.

#gale hawthorne #gale hawthorne defense squad #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #galeniss #everthrone #peeta mellark #peeta mellark slander #everlark slander #everlark #platonic Everlark #thg katniss

[badwitch-if]

“I thought our story was epic, you know, you and me. Spanning years & continents. Lives ruined, bloodshed. Epic.”

To the very few that know them well, Ash Casablanca is a walking contradiction. They're so practiced at maintaining the very picture of perfection, they fool even themselves. Loyal to an absolute fault, they would be hard pressed to ever turn down a covenmate.

The youngest in a long line of Casablanca cousins, Ash grew up surrounded by family. A family they would have happily traded in, but a family nonetheless. The Casablancas were known as a wild and reckless bunch of Witxhes, who often acted like their time was wasted inside the classroom.

Ash's parents tried to discourage the wild Casablanca roots from taking hold, trying instead to coax out the more stable Hawthorne elements. Where the Casablancas were seen as tempestuous and unpredictable, the Hawthornes were strong, pillars of society. But their parents efforts were usually in vain, so often, even before Ash could introduce themselves to teachers and counselors, they were written off as another mediocre witch in a long line of troublemakers.

That is, until they met the eight other children that would become their coven, their soulmates, the people that would come to know the deepest parts of Ash. It was as if from that moment forward, they all became the best versions of themselves, but Ash in particular. Being around people who liked and loved them so much, and so easily, allowed Ash to become their truest self at the Silver Lake cottage.

Over the years they grew into a strong, sarcastic, whip-smart witch, whose voice and laughter could often be heard echoing down the halls of the house. And ever since Ash met them, no matter the situation, they always seem to gravitate towards MC and Ori. Eventually MC's obsession/love of Demonhall infected Ash, and the rest is history.

Being too young to compete, they dedicated themselves entirely to the study of the sport, including origins, histories, as well as a thorough audit of the rules. Ash becomes so overtaken with the game that his parents buy a decommissioned Demonhall and have it relocated to their house near the academy, itself a recent purchase.

The young coven practised in secret the summer before their third year, under the guise of staying together at the Casablanca estate. And this would begin a long and important tradition with the Silverlakers — of spending long, countless nights learning magic considered to be 'out of their grasp', before making the little trek out to the woods where they attempted their most dangerous spells and enchantments.

Third Year would mark the turning point for the coven. They competed in their first season of Demonhall finishing first in their age class, and third overall. This was all the encouragement Ash needed to launch themselves at training and studies, full speed. Until their body decided to play a joke and turn against them, and that was when Ash learned they had just two obsessions in life: Demonhall, and cute Witxhes.

And boy oh boy, did they excel at that just as easily as their other passion. Ash found that they loved having crushes almost as much as they loved eliminating a Witxh in a game, and of course, there were more than a few similarities between the two. That feeling you got in the pit of your stomach when you realised the game had begun. The thrill of the chase.

So like many Ash's age, during their early adolescence, they were utterly consumed with romantic flings and the obsession of sport. It wasn't until the [REDACTED] that Ash took stock of their life and asked themselves some hard questions. And then there was [REDACTED] where Ash's entire life changed. MC was all they could think of and for once, the lines of attraction and Demonhall were somewhat blurred.

The coven continued to push the boundaries of magic, stretching the laws of nature and ethics. The other covens demanded to know how they already knew spells and potions before they'd been taught in the classroom; why the Silverlakers won match after match in the Demonhall, utterly destroying their competition. Some properly outraged parents even demanded a Shuffling of the Covens, an event that had only ever been discussed hypothetically during the school's founding.

All of this only helped to infuse Ash's ego, as it all but confirmed that they were anything but a mediocre Witxh, and things were actually pointing to them being a pretty great. Around this time, rumours started swirling of a young academy coven that was blowing up records left, right, and center. The summer before Fifth Year saw the Silverlakers invited to their first international match. It was the first time the world would get their first look at the coven that would soon take the Demonhall world by storm.

Ash absolutely adored the fame and glowing attention that their stardom brought. If they weren't already convinced they wanted to pursue a career in Demonhall, their latter years at the academy confirmed it. While still taking classes, the Silverlakers had the added pressure of balancing more exhibition and international matches on top of their regularly scheduled academy games.

Scholars were actively studying the coven because they were performing at a level they just... shouldn't be capable of performing at yet. Ash, MC, and Ori were being openly courted by several professional Demonhall teams before Ori made it known that they weren't interested in pursuing the sport professionally.

And so it was down to MC and Ash. They spent hours going over the pros and cons, arguing over which team would be the best to join and why. There was no question that if they did this, they would do it together, because their biggest strength in the arena was each other.

But then just when they were about to head out into the world, to enjoy a well-earned life of luxury and excitement, it was [REDACTED] and [REDACTED], all but snatched away. Any professional life or romantic future with MC was suddenly not an option, with very little in way of explanation.

So Ash picked themselves up and tried to carry on as if everything was fine. They spent the better part of their twenties whoring, partying, and maintaining a near-perfect Demonhall record. They have been an honoured guest at every High Solstice and Equinox Ball of the past decade, the quarterly event for the trendy Witxh who wants to see and be seen.

Ash has a golden-beige complexion that maintains a perma tan year-round. They're taller than average & have an incredibly athletic physique. They literally look like they were chiselled from marble, with a magnificently toned ass.

Ash's work look is a midnight blue, ultra slim-fitting 'Aurora Bolts' Demonhall simsuit. Their day-to-day style is casual, comfortable, cool. Lots of khakis and large pullover sweaters. Light, neutral tones. Very 90s Ralph Lauren, Hilfiger. Their evening/glam look often shows off their athletic bod, with soft lines and sheer fabrics.

Their wavy, honey-blonde hair is cut to shoulder length on Aisling, but grown out a couple inches on Asher so that it always looks a little unkempt. They possess the bluest of blue eyes, sometimes as clear as ice, while other days they were as dark as the midnight sky.

Ash has a cleft chin and a megawatt smile, and seems practically made for the limelight. Asher keeps himself pretty clean-shaven, so you know he's not himself when his five o'clock shadow is showing, while similar could be said about Aisling being seen without her signature berry red lips.

aaand here's a link for Ash's playlist. I've been playing around with it for years... so it's more of a 10hr long ✨vibes✨ playlist than being music that Ash would listen to, but that's another fun project altogether 😅

*I don't own any of these photos, please don't sue! And credit for the top quote goes to S2 Logan Echolls, aka LoVe (but probably really series creator Rob Thomas)*

#ash casablanca #badwitch if #badwitch #choice of games #choicescript #hosted games #interactive fiction #witches #if #if wip #interactive novel #magic #cyoa #if: fyi #if: wip

[wuxiaphoenix]

Worldbuilding: By Any Other Name

Your world should have moments where the characters can stop and smell the roses. No, literally. Roses are awesome.

Not just for romance, though that’s the common image.

Roses are edible; flowers, fruits, the tender leaves if you push it. Looking at the wider family of rose relatives, they provide a lot of our fresh fruit and firewood. From the familiar brambles of blackberries, raspberries, and lingonberries, to cherries, pears, apples and a host of lesser-known fruits like hawthorns and cloudberries. If a mark of wealth and taste in today’s era is a well-stocked wine cellar, a similar mark in medieval Europe was a well-kept orchard, with potentially dozens of varieties so there could be cider, fresh, or stored fruit year-round.

Note, cider is particularly valuable where you’re not always certain of your water supply. Just boil enough water to clean your press and barrels, squeeze your apples, and store. A healthy, nonalcoholic drink (if you want it that way) that gives valuable calories and rehydrates you if your innards have gone a few rounds with nasty bugs. Healthy eats are a mark of status.

Roses make for good status markers straight up by themselves, of course. Pretty, sweet-scented, often an excellent burglar deterrent. You can use the blooms to perfume a room; in the case of damask roses they might be grown and plucked on an industrial scale for rosewater and the expensive perfumer’s friend, attar of roses.

(Rosewater used to be used much as we use vanilla today, so we’ve replaced the product of one flower with another. Oddly enough the vanilla orchid appears to be the only edible orchid known to man. Something to look into.)

And then there’s the myths. Sub rosa comes from “under the rose”, when conspirators would gather in a room with a rose-painted ceiling to conceal secrets. Roses are associated with many saints, and no few folktales; check out King Lindworm for a particularly interesting story. And if you branch out to rose relatives folktales are full of them. Including the hawthorn stakes used to kill or paralyze a vampire. Wild roses, laid on a coffin, were supposed to trap a vampire inside. A temporary measure, yes - but if you’re a villager and the nearest qualified vampire hunter is days away, sometimes buying time saves lives.

So why not have roses in your world? Elegant, tasty, and a potential bane to undead! Or at least unwary burglars.

...And let’s not forget the tango. Not that I’m saying your characters have to dance a slinky, sexy tango with a rose between their teeth. But hey, it’s nice to have the option!

#creative writing #worldbuilding #folk tales

[wistfulweaverwoman]

A Snippet from Chapter Two- The many Frustrations of Gale Hawthorne

It’s cold by the time we bunk down. We decide to lay back to back so we can layer our blankets over us for additional warmth. I should be exhausted and fall right to sleep. I don’t. My dick throbs annoyingly, letting me know it’s alive and well. It’s something that I mostly ignore and then it settles down. That’s not working tonight, with Rye next to me, his fucking words echoing around my skull.

“What did you mean when you said when you fuck me?” I say, finally. 

“I don’t understand the question, what I said was pretty self explanatory,” he says, his voice thick with sleep. The fuck? How can I get any clearer? BUt I realize I’m asking the wrong question, because the when is up to me, I guess.

“How would you fuck me?” I say, frustrated, my voice on the edge of a growl. He hums, and rolls over. I tense, and he presses his chest into my back, tucking his knees behind mine. I’m immediately warmer, relieved he doesn’t wrap his arm around my waist like some kind of lover, and ignore that the warmest part of him is curving around my ass. After a moment of warmth radiating into my sore back muscles I relax.

“How would I fuck you?” he says, his voice low, not with suggestion, but exhaustion. “Slowly, with my dick in your asshole.” My ass cheeks reflexively clench and he snickers in my ear. “Go to sleep,” he says, and soon his breathing slows to an even rhythm against the back of my neck. I lay awake for a long time before sleep claims me. 

Do I want that? I’m not sure, but I’m intrigued. Do I want to fuck him? I try to picture it and it doesn’t have quite the same effect as picturing myself sliding into the mayor's daughter, wet and willing, her tits bouncing with every thrust she takes. But Rye is always in control of himself, and I wonder how much of his laughing and smiling is genuine. Not that I give a shit about his hidden pain or whatever. But what I do want to see is Rye lose his control; I want to see him squirm, and I want to be the cause of it.

Rye groans in the predawn.

“Do I have time to go take a piss?” he says. I extract myself from the pile of branches and kneel in front of the window peering out. 

“No, we should wait till it’s lighter,” I say. I don’t want us to get caught out of the blind and scare away the reason we’re still out here. He just nods and perches on a stump leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. I rotate the other stump closer so I can look out without kneeling and we wait silently watching the world outside the blind grow incrementally lighter.

“You can piss in the water bucket if you really need to,’ I say. “I won’t tell Katniss, but you better wash it out good.” He just shoots me a look of disgust.

Eventually a herd wanders into the clearing, grazing on what's left of the wild grasses. I ready my bow.

“Go for the small doe,” I say, the words barely audible to my own ears, and nod to one that’s slightly apart from the rest. He aims and I lose my arrow at the same moment he does. Two deer drop while the others bound away. To may relief neither is making a sound, but I’m annoyed because now we have three deer and how the fuck are we ever going to get them back to the Ruba? Rye is grimacing.

“Sorry, I thought you meant a different one,” he says standing. I follow him out and we stumble off in different directions to relieve ourselves. He’s standing over the two deer when I return and I see the doe he shot has an arrow coming directly out of her right eye. I can’t help but swell with pride.

“Great shot,” I say. He glances up at me and smiles. It’s not a smile I’d seen before from him, which have often been laughing or teasing or sarcastic. This smile is so genuine, with a touch of shyness, that I impulsively lean forward and kiss him on the mouth, one hand coming up to his cheek, feeling the scruff against my palm. Surprised, I step back, turn, and walk quickly back to the blind, Rye following close behind. I duck in and I hear Rye shifting the door closed. I retreat farther back before turning to face him, my face on fire.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he says.

“I don’t know,” I say, coughing at his directness.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he says, taking a step towards me. 

“Yes,” I say, surprised at how quickly I answer. He takes another step.

“Do you want to touch me?” he says, more quietly. I clear my throat.

“Yeah,” I say. He nods.

After tugging one of the blankets off the branch pile I arrange it on the floor and sit on it cross legged while Rye rifles through his bag. He sits up with a small jar, something that’s clearly from the apothecary shop. 

“What’s that,” I say, suspiciously.

“Lubricant?” he says, confused. I shake my head. He grins.

“Just take off your clothes,” he says, unlacing his boots. I’m not shy, but it’s still fucking chilly so I grab another quilt and pull it around my shoulders like a shall, shivering. Rye lays to one side of me and plucks at the blanket.

“Give me some of that, will you?” he says, his pale skin covered in goose flesh. I begrudgingly slide down next to him and flip the blanket over the both of us. I lay on my side facing him, my cheek resting on my fist. 

He leans up and kisses me firmly. We make out for a while and then we use the oily salve that he brought from the shop, and fuck that changes everything about how hands feel. I’ll have to get a hold of some for myself somehow. We fuck, slowly like he said. He tugs me during and I’m almost embarrassed how hard and long I plateau for, and how many times I do. I’m kind of in shock after, and we just lay side by side panting. Then we hear a concerned voice calling somewhere outside and the door to the blind is yanked open.

“Oh fuck!” Peeta says, having just ducked inside. “Uh sorry!” And then he’s turning and he’s trying to block someone else from pushing in. I’ve just managed to grab my tee shirt to cover my dick and balls when Katniss sticks her head in through the window.

“Why’d you just leave the deer like that- Hey! That’s my blanket! What the fuck?!” she says. Rye is beside me convulsing with laughter. There’s actual tears leaking from his eyes. I’m so furious that I can’t think straight.

“We- uh- had a sword fight,” he says, practically howling. Katniss retreats from the window groaning. 

“For fucks sakes,” Peeta says, muttering.

“Uhm no we were bored and I was teaching Gale some wrestling moves,” Rye says, still giggling. He shrugs, like that explains everything. Peeta glares at his brother.

“We didn’t spend a week building this place so you could have a fuck pad,” Peeta says. Rye laughs.

“Oh really, little brother? Then please, enlighten me. Why did you?” he says, his tone insinuating. If possible Peeta glares even harder. Abruptly his face relaxes and he smiles almost sweetly.

“You know why. I’m an oaf and need a good place to hide if I have any hope of being a decent hunter.” He glances over his shoulder. “I’m going to go help Katniss with the does.”

“What the fuck are they doing here?” I say as I hurry into my clothes.

“What do you mean? Them coming was part of the plan,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head. “How the fuck else were we going to carry back the deer?” It makes sense, and I’m not sure why I didn’t ask before, which really pisses me off. It’s not like me to be so stupid.

“Thanks for keeping me entertained, Hawthorne,” Rye says, with a wink. Now I remember why I’ve always hated him. He’s so fucking cocky and never takes anything seriously. I’m about ready to deck him so I grab my pack and brush past him out the door. 

It takes the three of us three times as long to hike back to the fence than it took to get out to the blind. Rye and Peeta each carry a doe over their shoulders easily, which, despite myself, impresses me. Katniss and I struggle with the buck, its feet trussed to a thick tree bough, each end resting on one of our shoulders. It’s good that he’s young, because Katniss can barely lift her feet by the time we’re back at the town. We rest just at the edge of the woods and she rubs the spot on her shoulders where the wood had dug in sitting right on the ground. Peeta hands her his canteen and then crouches behind her and nudges her hand away and massages her shoulders. To my shock she lets him. I narrow my eyes, staring. I open my mouth to say something and then Rye snags my elbow and turns me away.

“So how have you and Katniss snuck deer in before?” he says. We’ve explained it and of course this asshole wasn’t paying attention. I’m already pissed so I just go ahead and lay into him for a bit before telling him again how we’re going to wait till it’s dark and then we’ll sneak through the hole in the fence near his aunt’s butcher shop. He nods along the whole time, suspiciously looking too contrite.

#the shape of us #wistfulweaverwoman #rye mellark #gale hawathorne #wip #hey! that's my blanket!!

[ikeromantic]

Mitsuhide Akechi + Water + Hawthorn + Urania

I decided to make this one soft ^_^ Approx. 600 words on themes of Water, Hawthorn - protection, Urania - heavens/teller of fortunes.

Rain fell so heavy that Mitsuhide could not see the garden beyond the walkway. The drops drummed a wild beat on the roof and rivulets of water rushed by unseen across the ground. Days like this made him feel that his manor was its own island, floating in the heavens amidst storm clouds. Peaceful.

He turned to see his little mouse as she came out of their room. She yawned, stretching. Mitsuhide could not help the way his gaze lingered over her form, nor did he want to. She was his beauty and he loved to look at her. 

She came to him, and leaned against his side. “Morning.” Her cold hands sought warmth under his clothes as she snuggled into him.

Mitsuhide laughed softly. “Did you come find me because you were cold?” He shifted so that she could rest back against his chest, letting his quilted akome drape over her. 

“Mmmm.” 

“I see we are in a talkative mood.” He smiled and kissed the top of her head. His arms wrapped around her, settling protectively on the roundness of her belly. Mitsuhide felt a certain awe as he cupped that slight bump. “If you like, I can carry you back to bed.”

“No. I want to watch the rain with you.” She turned her head just enough to smile up at him. “It’s beautiful.”

He pressed a light kiss to her cheek. “Not half as much as you.”

“With my messy morning hair? No make-up and -”

“Perfect. Lovely. Gorgeous. I can continue, if you like? But please, don’t insult my wife or there will be consequences.” Mitsuhide pretended a severe look.

She laughed. “Consequences, hm? I don’t know . . . sometimes I like those.” Her hand moved to rest atop his.

Mitsuhide felt a warmth in his chest, the weight of joy too large for his heart to bear. A tightness that could only be fear came on its heels. Even now, after so many months wed, it did not seem possible that this was his life. He never would have predicted this future for himself. It was too good.  

“What are you thinking about?”

“Hm? Why?”

She stroked the top of his hand with her thumb. “You gripped me tighter and your eyes had that look.”

He sighed. “It seems I can’t hide anything from you, little one.” Mitsuhide loosened his hold a fraction. “I was just thinking this is more than I deserve. That in this moment, my happiness will be stolen away because the only reason I could be allowed this -” He kissed her again, “is so that it can be taken. The pain of loss, my punishment.”

“Mitsuhide.” She breathed his name, a prayer from her lips. 

“Grim thoughts. I am sorry.” He rested his chin atop her head. 

She laced her fingers with his, so that their fingers both touched the swell beneath. “I can’t promise nothing will happen. But I know you will protect me. And our child. No matter what comes.”

“I will,” he said simply. 

“And I will protect you.”

Mitsuhide felt the tension in him loosen as he drank in the comfort she offered. Her gentle words, meant sincerely. “My little mouse. I wonder sometimes if you are not some heavenly spirit in disguise.” His tone was teasing, playful, but he knew he could not hide his true feelings from her. He did not wish to. 

Neither spoke after that. They stood, holding each other, and watched the rain. Breathing in the scents of petrichor and each other’s skin. Their hearts, all three, beating in time together. 

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #fanfiction #fanfic #otome #otome guys #fluff

[wreywrites]

Tiger Shark

Epilogue: The Victor

By the time Cassia Vickers is twenty, she owns another third of the Greensea Fishing Company in her own right, is a capable company manager learning at my father’s shoulder, and “spends entirely too much time with that Hawthorne boy,” according to Finnick, who has become such a dad it makes me laugh and who I know is hoping Cassia will spend even more time with Rory Hawthorne because he can think of much worse adopted sons-in-law to have.

Now Beck is seven, Maggie four, Al two, and another one on the way. Aunt Johanna spends about half her time living with us, in the eighth spare bedroom of the house by the Traps.

Sometimes one of them will have a nightmare and their cries of terror send Finnick back to that time in the Capitol. Sometimes it gets too quiet in the house and I fall back into my memories of the arena. But I’m there for him and he’s there for me, and we get through it. We gather up the kids and tell them that their dad was ten before he got stung by a jellyfish, that their mom once knocked a man off the docks with one punch because he was being mean. We tell them about the pair of crowns on the mantle, about the Games. Not every gory detail, just enough so they know why we have nightmares too, why Finnick looks so wild when he wakes up, why I need him to talk until I fall asleep every night. Enough for them to know why we were willing to fight and die to make sure the Games never happened again. They nod along, looking sad and proud, and Maggie snuggles against Finnick’s chest and Al presses his cheek closer to Cassia’s and Beck wraps his little arms around my middle, and all I am is happy.

What if I had known?

If I had known that I would be this happy? I think I understand what Finnick meant all those years ago when he said he would have volunteered.

If I had known all this would happen, I would have volunteered too.

****

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PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Tag List:

@avoxrising @snow-dragon-rider @anakins-ride-or-die

#wrey writes #the hunger games #thg: tiger shark #annie cresta #finnick odair #happy endings :) #fluff and warm fuzzies #the end

[mischicfmxnxged]

--— loading student files for IVY ROSMERTA, please hold !! alright, i think i've got it now.. you're twenty five years old and in your seventh year, SPECIALISING IN BUSINESS & HERBOLOGY ?? i can't wait to see where that takes you. bear with me, dear, i just need to confirm some more information with you. pureblood, hufflepuff house, ciswoman, she/her, and member of herbology club & culinary club are all correct ?? perfect.

stats;

name; ivy aileen rosmerta gender & pronouns; ciswoman, she/her/herself blood status; pureblood sexual orientation; heterosexual age & birthday; 25, may 29 house; hufflepuff year; seventh specialization; business + herbology region + school; scotland + gutraidh pet; calico cat named bonnie + barn owl named ophelia wand; 10 inches, hawthorn, unicorn hair patronus; hedgehog boggart; her sister dead

bio;

one.

the oldest daughter of madam rosmerta, ivy grew up in the booths and rooms of the three broomsticks. she always knew that the mantle of owner & barkeep would pass to her one day, as it had for generations of rosmerta women. her sister would help her, if she so chose, but the eldest daughter was always the one expected to carry on the family business. with this expectation bred in her from the day she was born, ivy spent most of her childhood watching her mother interact with customers and run her staff, soaking up every bit of knowledge she could and learning the business while her younger sister ran wild around hogsmeade. ivy was never able to be much of a child or figure out who she was; her future and the person she had to be were laid out before her, whether or not either of them actually fit her.

two.

the one thing ivy had that was hers was her love for plants. it was handy to have a little garden behind the three broomsticks for various herbs and spices and vegetables that they used in the various recipes, and ivy showed a green thumb pattering around the garden early on. when she went off to school at gutraidh, herbology was her favorite subject, and the greenhouses there and at aurelius became the place she felt most like herself. someone who always had a hard time opening up and being real with others, ivy was mesmerized by the way plants grew and opened on their own terms, so long as you planted and cared for them well. she could lose herself in the greenhouses, no one looking at her or expecting a cheerful countenance or witty reply -- not like at the three broomsticks, where every move she made had to be calculated to keep the patrons happy.

three.

ivy knew better than to dream or imagine another life for herself, but she did think she had many years before the full responsibility of running the pub would fall to her. but after the disappearance and subsequent discovery of her mother's body, ivy has had to manage juggling school, watching out for her younger sister, and running the staff at the three broomsticks, all while trying to wrap her head around the fact that her beloved mother is dead. but all the while, she feels a restlessness in her heart that is getting harder and harder to ignore - but ignore it she must. she has a duty to uphold, and she won't betray her mother's memory by shirking her responsibilities.

personality traits;

charismatic / the rosmertas might not be members of the sacred 28, but they were a well known family in the wix world, considering they'd been running the three broomsticks since it was established. ivy was groomed from a toddler to be approachable and charismatic and adaptable enough to be liked by anyone, because those were essential traits for the three broomsticks barmaid.

kind / ivy has always been kindhearted. she has an ability to see others who are hurting or down, who don't quite fit in, or who just need someone to look after them. she's always ready to spread a kind word and has a very nurturing spirit.

cautious / ivy's always felt the weight of others' gazes pressing down on her, so moves through life carefully. she knows that she has to walk a neutral line in life so that everyone sees her as the lovable and non-threatening owner of their favorite pub. she is not quick to make decisions or judgments.

closed off / while ivy might present a warm and charismatic front to the world, underneath it all she's pretty closed off. she doesn't share the deeper parts of herself easily, not even with herself, and while she's friendly with everyone, it's not easy to get to know her.

protective / when ivy feels protective of someone, she would do anything for them. she watches out for those she thinks need it, and while she's not one to throw hexes or insults, she is quick to comfort and care for those she loves.

observant / ivy notices everything that goes on around her, but so quietly and unobtrusively that no one would ever think to call her nosy or a gossip. she knows almost everything that goes on at aurelius and definitely everything that happens in the three broomsticks, though.

passive / ivy isn't quick to fight back or act. she often just lets life happen around her while she keeps her head down and tries to be what she needs to be. if someone insults her (rare, because she almost never gives anyone a reason), she'll roll over and take it.

restrained / ivy doesn't often let herself let loose. honestly, she's not even sure she knows how. while her younger sister got to be the wild one, ivy's always been the responsible one. she can't afford to make mistakes, not when everyone knows she's running one of the most important pubs in the wizarding world.

wanted connections;

family & friends

the little sister // wanted character // even though there are only a few years that separate ivy from her younger sister, the two couldn't be more different. ivy's the responsible one, the one everyone expects great things from, while her younger sister gets to run wild and be whoever and whatever she wants to be. ivy doesn't resent her this privilege, though, and is very protective of her sister, especially now that their mother is gone. neither of them know their father(s), so ivy's little sis is all she has left.

the one she lets in // open // not many people know the real ivy - who can, when she barely does? but this person is the one person that ivy doesn't have to be a rosmerta for. they're the one who sees her real emotions and the one she shares her deeper thoughts and desires with. ideally, they'd be someone who pushes ivy a little bit to think beyond what she's "supposed" to be.

the squad // open // while ivy's not deeply close with many people, she does have a group of friends that she gravitates towards. they're the ones she spends the most time with and who regularly hang out in the pub to be with her.

romantic

the casual ex // open // someone that ivy dated in her younger years at aurelius. the two were never all that serious and ivy didn't let him in enough for him to really get to know her. they might have parted amicably, or maybe he loathes her for how closed off she was when they were together.

the heartbreaker // open // ivy's had one serious relationship, someone she thought she was in love with, before he broke her heart. maybe he couldn't handle how serious her life became after her mother's death, or maybe he just didn't care about her all that much, but no matter what, he really did a number on her heart.

the one who gets in // open // the rosmerta women aren't known for settling down. whether it's the result of some weird old magic or totally a coincidence, the rosmertas only have girls, and they very rarely have long term partners. they have their lovers, at least to continue on the line, but rarely do they get serious. but ivy is built differently from the rosmertas who came before her, and i'd love to see her fall deeply in love with someone who she really thinks could be her lifelong partner.

other

the employee // open // the three broomsticks hires students to work the bar and the kitchen, so ivy has to be the boss to some of her fellow classmates now that she's fully in charge of the pub. maybe they get along great, or maybe it's a super awkward dynamic.

#{ 🍻 ivy } #{ 🍻 intro }

[tarnera-blog]

Some people have expressed interest in seeing my various alts from FFXIV, so here we go! I am starting with the 8 characters I have on my main world server, along with a little of the backstory I have about each of them. So a brief explanation about this: in my game headcanon, for lack of a better way to put it, Ginko Biloba is the only ‘real’ Warrior of Light. The rest of his party are all very competent warriors who have the Echo, but they lack the Blessing of Light.

The other ‘rule’ I had about them is that they all had to be a different race. They ended up being all male because at the time that’s all I wanted to play as.

1. Ginko Biloba

A Hellion Hrothgar, he was abandoned as a child in the wilds of Yanxia. Found by people living in a nearby tiny village, he was raised by a Lupin couple without any children of their own. All-rounder who favors Dancer, he’s shown as a Black Mage in this photo.

He is based on several characters that I love, though the Hrothgar thing is just because I love tigers. Ginko is my favorite anime character, and I gave him the last name Biloba after much encouragement, and I can’t see myself changing it to anything else anytime soon.

2. Merri Brandybuck

Youngest son of a vigneron-turned-merchant, Merri ran away from home quite young and started making his way as an Adventurer, taking shameless advantage of people who can’t tell what age Lalafells are and wouldn’t care even if they did. Met Ginko early on, took him under his wing so to speak--Ginko might be older than him, but he’s got more adventuring experience. I also had the idea that his dad’s vineyard was located where Brayflox Longstop is now, before the Calamity.

Obviously his name isn’t Lalafellan, but I think I was going to have him change his name to that of a folk hero or something along those lines.

3.  Populus Tremuloides

I don’t have much of an idea for him, yet. I was toying with the idea of borrowing from a webcomic I used to read and have him get badly sick and forget how to get home? It would at least mean I wouldn’t have to say where he comes from, though if SE give us more information about the Viera that would be fantastic. He was originally a woman.

His name is the scientific name for the trembling aspen tree, and I tried to design him with that inspiration in mind.

4.  Crataegus Songarica

Yet again I’m not sure what I’m doing with him so far. Ginko was going to meet the various people in this group at different parts of his journey, so I guess the thing I have to decide is if Crataegus will leave the Steppes or if Ginko will meet him there. I also don’t know what tribe he should come from.

His name comes from the hawthorn tree, specifically the kind with black fruit and white flowers.

5. Quercus Muehlenbergii

I’m definitely thinking he was born and raised in Limsa Lominsa, and his father wanted him to go into some kind of career that involved boats (possibly piracy). To escape this fate, which he had no interest in, he left for Gridania as soon as he was able to save up enough money.

His name comes from the chinquapin oak.

6. Improbable Soda

I... didn’t actually plan to give him and Quercus the same color of Odd Eyes, switched. It just kind of happened. Anyway.

This is my ex-Garlean-turned-hero alt. I don’t have the mods to do things like give him a third eye, so he’s simply a conscript pressed into service, but he 100% fought at the Battle of Carteneau. I had the vague idea that after the Calamity he got away, hid out, changed his name and wandered the land helping people to try and make up for what he’d done in service to the Empire. Eventually he caught the eye of the Scions, and so it goes.

His name came to me in a dream. No, I’m not kidding.

7. Edgeless Blade

He is the son of an Elezen lord and a Hyuran maid, which I admit I stole from the MSQ but it’s such a compelling story and it happens often enough, so why not. In his case it was hushed up entirely because his mother left/was kicked out of the household before he was born. Having nowhere to go, she was reduced to begging for bread and gil. Luckily for her, a passing merchant from Hingashi took pity on her, marrying her quickly and bringing her back with him. He refuses to claim his Elezen father’s name, and doesn’t claim the merchant’s name so no one connects his activities with his adoptive father, who he respects greatly. In fact, he doesn’t claim a name at all; he gained the name he uses from the fact he fights with a wooden sword, and it amuses him to introduce himself as the Edgeless Blade.

I named him after the moniker of a character from Thunderbolt Fantasy.

8. Salix Discolor

I have no idea for him. I just wanted to name a character this name, and also I needed one more character to fill out my ‘static’.

His name is from the glaucous willow.

#ffxiv #warrior of light #alts that aren't warriors of light #ginko biloba

[garadinervi]

Ian Hamilton Finlay, Homage to Seurat, (postcard), Wild Hawthorn Press, Edinburgh, 1982 [Fondazione Bonotto, Molvena (VI)]

#art #visual writing #visual poetry #drawing #card #postcard #ian hamilton finlay #the wild hawthorn press #1980s

[landlordrecords]

WANTS

As I was just updating this on my Discogs profile, I thought I would stick it here as well, another place it might get seen. Don't think I have before.

My Discogs wants list is about 2000-strong, and my book list quite long as well, but here are 1) My list of music wants NOT on Discogs (MP3s a good start), 2) My very top book wants (PDFs fine), & 3) My top film wants...you can find practically any films online or cheap at the mo, so there's only a couple of those.

Hook me up!

MUSIC

Buddy Max - Rainbow & Pot Of Gold (Pic. Disc, 2002) LP on Cowboy Junction, &

Gold Record Award Winning and Orange Blossom Special (1990) CDs - country.

America's woefully obscure "Flea Market Cowboy"...I STILL only have a coupla MP3s plus one great CD that came via Theme Park Records in the mid-nineties.

Jah Scouse - RAP/Bombay Mix 7" (051)

Space Records SPAC 7 (as yet unidentified item)

Stormed - New Revolution tape (1989) - indie ska.

An old favourite band from Cambridge...onto the bits & bats now I've got one single & a dub of the other.

--------------------------------------------------

BOOKS/MAGS

Martin Barker - Action-The Story of A Violent Comic (Titan, 1990, hbk)

Black Giantess zine issues 1 (1995)-7+ (c.2003)

Albert Goldman – Disco (Hawthorn, 1978)

Diz Willis - The Terrible Funeral & After (Wild Pigeon Press, 1968)

-------------------------------------------

FILMS

Lying (Chloe Sevigny, 2006)

Rockets Redglare! (doc, 2003)

#wants list music books zines comics films

[cosmicanger]

Ian Hamilton Finlay, Homage to Seurat, (postcard), Wild Hawthorn Press, Edinburgh, 1982 [Fondazione Bonotto, Molvena (VI)]

[faithfromanewperspective]

so I was thinking about the ending to the last hours like many of us and I guess reading between the lines a little at how traumatic the london possession would've been, at how much james and cordelia need therapy and the way gracelet fiasco played into both their insecurities especially in their relationship, at how charlotte must've realised how much she didn't know and wasn't there for about both her sons, how when the shock of battle wore off for all of them there's going to be a lot of grief that will be very difficult and also new for all of them, how matthew is actually feeling things for the first time and in some ways so is james, and the way that in the 6 months between the coda and epilogue so much recovery must've gone on to get them to the place they can kind of go on with their lives, and also in some ways the 4 months between cog and coi, magnus being around also, would've helped prep them for this. some things stood out to me:

I've said it before but I don't think Christopher's unfinished business with Grace is realistically neatly wrapped up with him saying to believe in herself that one day in the lab--yes it allowed fire messages to succeed but one friend who was only in your life for a short amount of time doesn't undo the psychological impacts of a lifetime of abuse. I find the canon world of ghosts/afterlife so interesting as well and I can totally imagine Kit just being really curious to understand Tatiana with the way his mind works, then coming back 'a little bit' again and again to see Grace. He'd be having a great time learning things without the constraints of a human body and idk I want to write this so badly. We know his passion in life is helping others and I think he'd be thoughtful enough to give his friends some closure as well as meddling a bit to integrate Grace, check on Matthew and his siblings, etc. and I don't think this is outside the universe bounds as though Lucie couldn't reach him at first, ghosts take some time to rise whether they stay around or not (jessamine being a great example).

And another thing that really intrigues/concerns me is the possibility of Matthew living with rapid-cycling bipolar in an age and situation where the mental health services we have now are nonexistent and inaccessible. And we have in gotsm the way Jem and Tessa talk about him and remember the pain he went though when they talk with Mother Hawthorn in Buenos Aries--I think that just cements to me the obvious that his struggles don't just completely go away with being sober. But we know that he's brave and resourceful and has incredible people around him. I want to see how he does it, and what might be realistic there. We also have Tessa saying 'Fairchilds were always practical' after the bridge and yet Matthew is constantly described being 'ridiculous' and 'frivolous' with Tessa in The Midnight Heir saying James keeps him out of trouble. I think he's going to grow up and embrace his wild side (as we see him doing when he heads off on his travel year) but do so in a really practical way, because he needs wonder to regulate him: both to give inspiration and purpose to his energy and to ground him a little when he feels worthless. It's a lot for an 18-year-old to figure out but I think for many of us, he's a character that gives us hope and we see ourselves in him. We want and need and hope for him to succeed. Again, I would be honoured to write this, feed it off my experience and vice versa.

all I'm saying is do I feel a fic coming on? Maybe. I hope so. I think it could be a really healing thing to write as these characters I relate so much to have so much untapped potential that was possibly too heavy for a YA context but it sure was hinted at. so stay tuned, and feel free to nag me if you want to know if my head's still here in the future. time-pressed for my thesis rn but I've never been able to focus on what I'm supposed to, so anything is possible!

#chain of thorns #chain of gold #chain of iron #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #christopher lightwood #matthew fairchild #tatiana blackthorn #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #grace blackthorn #charlotte fairchild

[finishinglinepress]

NEW FROM FINISHING LINE PRESS: Balm for the Living by Angie Minkin

ADVANCE ORDER: https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/balm-for-the-living-by-angie-minkin/

Balm for the Living offers poems of #hope and celebrates our very human urge to connect with each other. These poems lift us with kestrels and cedar waxwings, anchor us solidly to the earth, show us how to ebb and flow with life’s tides, and help us to consider profound loss. Reading these poems, we contemplate stars, tango in Havana, and celebrate #life in all its beauty and mystery.

Angie Minkin is a San Francisco-based poet who stands on her head for inspiration. Angie volunteers as a poetry editor of Vistas & Byways Literary Review. Her work has been published in that journal, as well as The MacGuffin, Rattle, The Poeming Pigeon, The Unbroken Journal, Persimmon Tree, Rise Up Review, and several others. Angie is a coauthor of Dreams and Blessings: Six Visionary Poets, published in 2020 by Blue Light Press. Her work has been included in Fog and Light, San Francisco through the Eyes of the Poets Who Live Here and Pandemic Puzzle Poems, also published by Blue Light Press. She has won awards in the Soul-Making Keats Literary Competition in the Prose Poem and Sonnet Categories, and in the Ina Coolbrith Circle Annual Contest. Angie is inspired by the political landscape and the voice of the wise woman. Some of her favorite authors include Elizabeth Alexander, Ellen Bass, and Jane Hirschfield. In addition to writing, Angie practices yoga, takes dance classes, and travels to Oaxaca, Mexico as often as possible.

PRAISE FOR Balm for the Living by Angie Minkin

Balm for the Living offers poems like stoppered jars that hold the essence of our humanness—generational memory, our urge to connect to one another and the natural world, the exultation of our creative play, our staunchness in facing war, pandemic, and even, especially, ordinary loss. The dying, too, are allowed their humanity in these poems, which pay unusual, careful attention to last words, last breath, and the “slide between worlds.” Throughout the collection, Angie Minkin’s verve and wit are evident in the variety of lyrical forms—abecedarian, cento, erasure, prose poem, sonnet, villanelle, and free-line—that she capably employs. Though these poems are permeated with lemon, eucalyptus, salt marsh, and cedar, San Francisco is less a setting than a confluence of energies—wind, waves, and, penetrating everything, the starlight at which we gaze to trace “the arc” of our mysterious lives.

–Erin Redfern, author of Spellbreaking and Other Life Skills

In this glorious collection, birds are cherished everywhere. The opening poem meditates on the healing magic of homemade chicken soup, and the closing poem sings the praises of cedar waxwings who “arrive/ to show us how to feast fully.” In between, in both formal and free verse

Angie Minkin celebrates sparrows, hawks, “an unseen thrush,” blue herons, finches, a kestrel that “lands in the hawthorn tree,” pelicans, snowy plovers. Among these marvelous birds, we also hear children dancing and “hollering wishes to heaven,” as well as old women “humming private melodies” and retracing steps “in this origami life.” Angie Minkin’s poems brim with wonder, vitality, and reverence. They lift us off the ground. They give us wings.

–Kathleen McClung, author of A Juror Must Fold in on Herself and Temporary Kin

Angie Minkin’s Balm for the Living is a joy to read – superb crafting of language, nicely sensual, woven with memories and tenderness. In these poems, you can conjure spells in a dented soup pot, follow the reverberations of a meditation bell, and tango in Havana. You can get drunk on wild cherries with the cedar waxwings, hear “whistles of an unseen thrush rise / on a collective sigh of cedars.” I love the wisdom and compassion in these poems, and everything speaks emotionally. Poems like these are elixirs of beauty in our deeply troubled world.

–Diane Frank, Chief Editor, Blue Light Press Author of While Listening to the Enigma Variations: New and Selected Poems

Please share/repost #flpauthor #preorder #AwesomeCoverArt #read #poems #literature #poetry #hope #life

#poetry #preorder #flp authors #flp #poets on tumblr #american poets #chapbook #leah maines #women poets #chapbooks #finishing line press #small press #book cover #books #publishers #poets #poem #smallpress #poems #binderfullofpoets