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papermoonloveslucy · 3 years ago

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INDOMINATABLE LIFESTYLE

July 16, 1972

HOLLYWOOD - Indomitable funny girl Lucille Ball, with a messy scoop hair the color of an orange popsicle, flashes on the scene in a sad predicament.

She's got a lame leg.

Lucy hobbled from her sleek silver Rolls Royce and into the yellow cubbyhole dressing room which is a sunny retreat near the Lucy set which Is crawling with rehearsal activity.

On the surface, everything's ha-ha-ha. But the fact is that surgeons have inserted pins into the shattered leg bone suffered last year in a Snowmass Peak, Colo., skiing accident. The leg brace is a semi-intolerable ball and chain. But, as always, crippling situations must be mastered. Lucy's inextinguishable spirit pulsates despite the physical handicap.

Lucy Is showing a smiling color photograph of herself in a flowing white hooded cape coat rimmed in fluffy fox. The picture, radiating exterior happiness, doesn't reflect the inner pain. Lucy's leg, in a hip cast, is disguised under a blanket.

You know the familiar Lucy grin? She's grinning it and saying hell no, baby, she's not ever going to ski again. She couldn't stomach another goddam ordeal like that. Besides, on the immediate horizon is an operation to remove the pins.

Lucy, being Lucy, bears the cross with humor: "Honey," she says, "skiing is just getting into those nice winter clothes and being a show off." The burdensome subject of broken bones is dismissed with frivolity.

Brainy Lucy, now 60 and president of a $30 million corporation, is an American institution.

But, like all super-successful females, she vibrates complex contradictions. The fashion plate - who initiated her career as a Hattie Carnegie hat model - is a winsome dumb broad on the tube. In reality she's tough executive who barks orders left and right. Staffers instantly do like the lady says. God has spoken. Lucy runs a tight ship, but she is more respected than feared.

Yet Lucy is softie with a heart of spun sugar. Trappings, which she has in predictable abundance, aren't a psychic crutch.

"Success is knowing that if everything were wiped away tomorrow, it wouldn't really matter. I wouldn't die if I lost my things," she says. Then the awesome simplicity: "Dear, I still go home and let the cat out"

Lucy has always run her home life with a liberal hand.

Desi Arnaz, Jr. is currently Involved in well-publicized liaison with Liza Minnelli. There was a previous Desi scandal regarding Patty Duke. People gossip a lot here because they live in a city where the major industry is make-believe and fact and fiction become blurred.

Lucy isn't deaf to the talk about her son's romances:

"What the hell, they're having a fine spree. I just hope it lasts for Desi and Liza. They don't have time to get married. Their scene is the world and they're swinging in there. I'm the one who talked marriage to them. One night I said: Look, kids, don't get married too soon. They were upset. Desi countered with the observation that you don't have to settle down when you get married. So I go - well, that's true son! The subject of marriage just never came up again. They're a nice couple. They present themselves well without becoming asses. I've told the kids to do as they wish."

Lucy, who was a good friend to Judy Garland, makes no bones about her affection for Liza. And once Lucy loves, the feeling lasts. After 20 years of marriage to Desi Arnaz, there was the divorce. Still Lucy looks people straight in the eyes and says the present Mrs. Desi Arnaz is a "wonderful woman." And she can see it in her heart to rent ex-husband Desi studio space on her lot so that he can work in the shadow of a success they initiated together.

When Liza Minnelli was a child, Lucy kept a scrapbook of Liza's activities at play, in ballet school, attending birthday parties. There, in a battered old photo album, are the precious pictures. Liza didn't know about the book until recently. Desi brought Liza home and Lucy accidentally-on-purpose left the book on a coffee table. "Oh! Wow!" exclaimed Liza through a flow of uncontrollable tears.

Lucy; "And I said to Liza, honey-baby, I told you I've known you for a long time. Didn't you believe me?" Lucille Ball speaks in an affectionate aside about Liza and the loyalty is simultaneously visible and audible:

"That kid is liable to explode any minute. I just hope I'm around to pick up the pieces. No one knows why she works so hard. She's made it her objective to clear her mother financially. Those b--- lawyers took her --- really took her. But she's paying back every damn cent herself."

Life is, of course, an inexplicable mixture of tears and laughter. Buoyant Lucy can see the funnies in everything. Love, she says, is looking beyond someone's minor faults and caring passionately despite the irritations. Lucy's 80-year-old mom, Dede (Desiree Ball) lives near Lucy's sprawling colonial house in Beverly Hills. Dede has a longstanding idiosyncrasy which used to drive Lucy wild but is now an amusement.

In that familiar screechy scratchy soprano voice oozing feigned stupidity, Lucy sing-songs the dialogue;

"I say to Dede: Hey Dede, I've got a pain in my elbow. Dede always says: 'stupid, it's because you're not eating right!" Honest to God, if you've got a pain in your big toe, it's not because someone stepped on it it's the food. Drives you nuts! Dede really has a thing about food. The other day I went home and cooked a batch of chicken. 'Chicken!!" says Dede, 'you know it's gonna make me sick.' Of course Dede eats more chicken than anybody. Next day I say: Dede you been up all night throwin', huh? Naw," says Dede, the chicken wasn't half bad.'"

The ridiculous story illustrates two things Dede taught Lucy early in life. One: That without good health you've got nothing. Two; That without a non-pliant, thoroughly independent attitude, you've got less than nothing because show business kills the weak.

Lucy is in constant awe of Dede. When Lucy built the five-story ski chalet 9,800 feet on the side of a Colorado mountain she was certain Dede couldn't take either the long trip or the altitude. Besides, once you get to Lucy's place, there are a million icy steps to climb before you make the front door. "Even the dogs stop to get their breath," says Lucy. "But when I start huffing, Dede looks over her shoulder and sorta snaps: Aw, Lucy, you're a sissy!' That woman is my challenge."

Does Lucy ever get down? Do the burdens of crushing disappointments halt her enthusiasm even temporarily? "Jesus," she says, "I cry. I cry a lot. Then anger sets in. When I'm angry, I become a fighter. And I always fight to win."

When Lucy talks to you, she taps your knee in a natural gesture of intimacy. Her gaze is through black fringed x-ray eyes that sear through trivia. She smokes her cigarette twirled ceremoniously between her thumb and forefinger. Lucy always spews gut honesty:

"Love is a great peace of mind. There's no panic in the relationship. It's never having to prove yourself. Love is not playing games. Baby, some women have to put up with mysterious absenteeism. That's always a sign of hanky panky-ism. Christ, I never have to worry where Gary is."

Gary is Gary Morton, Lucy's husband and executive producer. Suddenly he bursts into the dressing room and asks for the afternoon off. Lucy's going to work the full day. Her answer is affirmative, but she doesn't use the word "yes"; "Just don't forget to tell the cook to get out the steaks and have a big salad ready."

The show is all in the family. Lucy's sister, Cleo Smith, is another producer. Lucy is having the talk-about twosome of Desi Jr. and Liza written into a script. Little Lucy, who has been Mrs. Phil Vandervort for a year, is a regular. She, too, bursts into the dressing room to use the john. The jeans are already embarrassingly unzipped. As she whizzes by she comments only to her famous mama: "Jeez, I though you were alone!"

But an emergency is an emergency. Lucy, quick to seize the humor, quips: "Our togetherness is only occasionally splintered."

In retrospect, Lucy is pleased with her real-life mother role. "I've been one hell of a mom," she says. "I always knew where they were every minute." Lucille Ball is a profound woman who often uses great simplicities to get her points across.

Once, when the kids were small, a nurse observed to Lucy that Little Lucy was calling Desi Jr., "fatso," and jabbing him in the stomach-when no one was looking. Desi didn't hit back because mama had said never to hit defenseless little girls. Lucy relives the old conversation with her daughter, first announcing each "part" and changing voices to portray the back-and-forth swing of conversation:

Big Lucy: "Got a problem, Little Lucy?"

Little Lucy: "Me? No."

Big Lucy: "Let's talk. Whose fault is it? No, actually it doesn't matter whose fault it is. Next time one of you is hurt, I'm going to hit the one who is hurt."

Little Lucy: "What does that mean, ma?"

Big Lucy: "You'll see."

Soon there was another battle. As usual, Little Lucy elbowed Desi in the stomach and he howled, Lucy illogically whacked Desi hard on the rear and his screams got louder. Little Lucy immediately became hysterical: "Mom, don't hit him! For God's sake, why are you hitting HIM?"

Lucy delivered the punch line which is the credo of their life: "I hit Desi because you let things go too far. Never let things go too far. Someone innocent always suffers. Do you understand?"

That was the end of sibling squabbling. Forever.

Once, before her chorus girl days, New York-born Lucy worked as a fashion mannequin for various Seventh Ave. houses. She's still got a clotheshorse figure but she won't splurge on couture: "I'm just one of those normal working women who doesn't go in for hifalutin’ fashion."

Lucy haunts three fabric shops in Beverly Hills and has local movie set seamstresses make all her clothes. "I'm not the type who dresses and goes out," says Lucy who long ago graduated from the silly-but-necessary movie star game of being seen in the right places.

"Once when I was in Paris, I bought a designer dress grey flannel, I think and wore it out from the salon to my car. When I sat down the damn thing was so strictly constructed that the neckline popped up to my nose. I was on my way to Switzerland and I mumbled to my driver, God, did that designer expect me to stand up on the plane?" Lucy can afford emergencies. When she got to Orly, she bought a dress from an airport boutique and changed in the ladies room.

And, so, the sweet saga of Lucy continues, there are no plans to quit. The word - retirement - isn't in her vocabulary. "I can't imagine doing nothing," she says. "If you don't keep moving, you're buried."

The beauty is still there. The complexion is like alabaster. Lucy confesses that she washes her face with Ivory soap, colors her own hair and occasionally gives herself offbeat facials."

"Honey, the idiot who said to put honey on your face never explained that it has to be mixed with cream," she says. The face melts into that wonderful famous grin. "I put honey on straight from the goddamn jar and it closed my pores for a month."

That's lovable Lucy.

[Ed. Note: The original photographs were degraded by copying so similar shots were substituted as close to the originals as possible.]

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#Lucille Ball #Desi Arnaz #Gary Morton #Wildcat #Dede Ball #Lucie Arnaz #Desi Arnaz Jr.#Liza Minnelli

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easyfoodnetwork · 4 years ago

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Mushroom Hunting at the End of the World

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While the rest of the country focused on something other than the forest floor, I started foraging for chanterelles

I’d been staring at the ground too long. That’s most of what foraging is, by the way. It’s ignoring the blue sky and the trees to focus your gaze on the dirt. I was walking through cobwebs, surveying the woodland floor for almost an hour, when I finally saw one: a tiny, pale chanterelle mushroom sticking up near the trail’s edge. It looked sickly, or at the very least elderly. Perhaps it was a sign that this section of the woods was untraveled, or maybe nobody had ever thought to pluck it from its habitat.

I peeled it from the ground with my paring knife and placed it into my netted, purple sack, which once housed grocery-store red onions. This lonely mushroom wasn’t the haul, mind you, but rather an indicator. When one chanterelle appears, more will follow. A few steps off the trail and they emerged in droves. Soon, my bag was filled with corpulent, spore-bearing fungi — big chanterelles with deep-orange hues and fantastical shapes, like something a Nintendo animator might draw.

Walking back with my giant bag of wild mushrooms, I ran into a couple, the first people I’d seen that day. We all scrambled to put on our masks at the distant sight of one another. “You get some chanties?” the man said in his familiar, spectacularly unusual Pittsburgh accent. “It’s a gold mine out there,” I said, trying unconsciously to disguise any hints of that same Pennsylvanian elocution. After they disappeared back into the woods, I put my mask in my pocket, where it stayed for the rest of the hike. For about 30 seconds, I was reminded that the rest of the world was focused on something other than the forest floor.

For about 30 seconds, I was reminded that the rest of the world was focused on something other than the forest floor.

A few years back I had tasted some wild mushroom conserva courtesy of my cousin, Andy, during a trip to my hometown in Pennsylvania. Andy is a budding locavore, a self-taught forager, and a mad scientist in the kitchen. His passion is infectious. Eighty percent of the meat he consumes, he hunts himself. He cures venison and butchers whole pigs in his garage.

That first spoonful of Andy’s mushrooms, meaty chanterelles salted in a strainer, then simmered in white vinegar with gothic-looking thyme and peppercorns, is preserved in my mind, so much so that I can access that memory whenever I want. The dim lighting in my parents’ dining room, Andy standing in the kitchen with his arms confidently folded, the sound of the Mason jar lid spinning loose, and the immense joy of my first bite — stocky chanterelle mushrooms, piquant vinegar, gentle aromatics, and then the brilliant opulence of olive oil, used to preserve the mixture.

I asked Andy if I could take a jar of them back home to Los Angeles, and he obliged. Every so often, I unscrewed the lid for a small bite. I would close my eyes and feel the cold air in my hometown. If I listened carefully, I could hear the train whistles in the distance. Those mushrooms became a portal to my hometown, a culinary object so emotionally resonant, so distinct from the food I bought at my grocery store in California, that I always longed to forage and conserve a jar of my own.

I began to miss rural Pennsylvania as the pandemic encroached into summer. Like a lot of people, I felt trapped in the big city, and so in June, I went home. In Pennsylvania, everybody’s houses are set at a distance, but everyone barters home provisions, ranging from venison pastrami to crooked cucumbers to gargantuan zucchini. The summer is when the Amish sell sweet corn, and when the berry farms open their orchards. The old-timey ice cream shops end their winter break, and people start roasting whole pigs and marinated legs of lamb. It was also not lost on me that a hot, wet climate is the ideal condition for chanterelles, and that this would be the perfect time to chase that dragon: the jar of preserved mushrooms.

Once I began mushroom hunting, the calm followed. I embraced foraging, an oft-maligned word after the chef-bro boom of the 2010s. If your reaction is to recoil, you’re not alone. Before my mushroom-hunting days, I usually laughed when I saw the word “foraged” on a menu or in a magazine. Oh, did you really go out foraging, m’Lord?

The first time I went, I rode in the passenger seat of Andy’s car, down the winding rural roads of Amish country. To be honest, I didn’t immediately connect with foraging; the experience felt educational. Of course, when you’re dealing with something that can be either good in a stir-fry, consciousness-expanding, or deadly, education is important. Poisonous mushrooms actually look evil, though, an offer of good faith from Mother Nature. They often have a sinister gray or red color, with warts and scales reminiscent of the toxic fungi in fairy-tale illustrations. Andy made sure to teach me enough that I didn’t end up hallucinating through the woods — or, worse yet, dead.

People in my hometown definitely don’t fall into the stereotype of knuckle-tatted, beanie-wearing “foragers,” but they’re pretty keen on the good mushroom spots. There’s an old Polish woman, for instance, whose stiff, territorial energy I can feel whenever I show up to Gaston Park the day after a rain. Because I didn’t want to move in on another gang’s turf, I had Andy show me a few of his favorite areas. Still, it didn’t feel right: These were his discoveries, not mine. I wanted to make my own way. I wanted that excitement of stumbling across a rare mushroom, of encountering a field of freshly sprouted chanterelles. I wanted to find my own mushroom haven, and so I went to Hell’s Hollow.

daveynin/Flickr

A view from the Hell’s Hollow Trail in McConnells Mill State Park, Pennsylvania

Hell’s Hollow is a national park and trail in New Castle, Pennsylvania, about a mile down the road from my childhood home. Apparently, it’s called Hell’s Hollow because some time ago a man fell asleep in those woods, and when he woke up, he was convinced that the place he was in was actually Hell. Are the woods deep and dark? Sure. Spooky at night? Yeah, of course. But, Hell? As in the place where sinners go and are tormented for eternity? Like, Satan-owned and -operated Hell? I scoff at the idea whenever I pass the old wooden sign for the trail. What kind of idiot would think that the woods is Hell? It’s beautiful out here. I mean look, there’s a flowing river. Why would the Devil keep a freshwater source in an eternity of suffering? Rule No. 1 of Hell must be to stay hydrated. Rule No. 2? No running.

Hell’s Hollow has been a constant throughout my life. When I was a kid, my mom and dad let me splash around the creek trying to catch minnows and small crabs. When I was 10, I gleefully collected rocks and declared that I was going to be a geologist (my family would be disappointed). As teens, my friends and I smoked shag weed and smashed cans of Mountain Dew together like Stone Cold Steve Austin there. The point is, I’ve been wandering around Hell’s Hollow my whole life, and it never dawned on me that I would ever find myself foraging there. But sure enough, it was my spot.

I did not expect hunting for mushrooms to clear my head the way it did. People say that about prep work, by the way. They say that peeling potatoes and kneading dough lets the mind wander and alleviates stress. But, to me, prep work is just that: work. Dicing onions pierces the eyes, lemon juice stings, and I will always associate chopping parsley with the incoming threat of a dinner rush at one of my restaurant jobs. When people say that cooking soothes the mind, they’re not taking into account all the people who do this shit for a living. What are those people supposed to do to get away from themselves? For me, I found that wandering in the woods alone with a sense of purpose was exactly the thing I needed to weather the fire tornado of anxiety the pandemic had produced.

The act of foraging, a completely unchanged activity in a pandemic, possesses the acute ability to make me forget about the state of things entirely. Specifically, it was easy to forget about a global virus. Hunting for mushrooms in the woods alone is already distanced; there are no guidelines to follow. Walk down the street in Los Angeles and you’re immediately reminded that restaurants are shut down and live performance spaces are shuttered. But in the woods? Go ahead — sneeze full force in any direction you please. Let off some steam, pal. You’ve earned it. Sure, I had a mask, but it stayed in my pocket on the off chance that I ran into another human being, though I was more likely to spot a deer.

When I’m hunting for mushrooms it feels like I’m achieving something tangible.

This wasn’t just a way to pass time, mind you. These weren’t nature walks I was taking. There’s a sense of ambition at the core of mushroom hunting. Purpose, the thing so many of us have felt without this year, I suddenly possessed. When there’s purpose, there’s a sense of reward, and when I’m hunting for mushrooms it feels like I’m achieving something tangible. All my energy is focused, my aim clear. Instead of staring at the ceiling in my studio apartment, I found myself scanning the ground for edible treasure. The dopamine you receive from finding a cluster of chanterelle mushrooms in the damp woods is immense, somehow both frivolous and survivalist. There’s a real sense of childlike treasure-hunting tied to foraging.

Take the elusive cauliflower mushroom, Sparassis, which is as rare as mushrooms come. They grow sporadically; their appearance is psychedelic and aquatic. It looks coral in a way, like a living, breathing self-sustaining organism that belongs at the bottom of the ocean. Jarring, then, to find one surrounded by leaves and mossy logs. The mushroom itself is wavy and ethereal, with petals like a flower. It’s so rare that when Andy and I found one, he jumped in the air with excitement. For seven years he had been hunting for a cauliflower mushroom, and he finally got it. His triumph felt like my triumph, and in a way, it was. Later, I fried the petals of the cauliflower mushroom in oil and ate them salted. The texture was outstanding and the flavor delicate, like a homemade noodle but with the specific earthiness of a fungus. “How many people are eating a cauliflower mushroom right now?” I thought.

I felt like jumping in the air like Andy when I spotted that lone, feeble chanterelle in Hell’s Hollow. To reach that first chantie was a hero’s journey, past a path that leads to a dazzling waterfall, down a steep hill, across a stream, and through a tunnel of decaying trees. The air starts to cool down and a trained nose can begin to smell the faint notes of mushrooms in the air. Clusters of chanterelles appear like small towns; they are golden trumpets that politely announce their presence with colorful glee. Oyster mushrooms grow shelf-like on the sides of trees, and chicken of the woods, these endlessly useful and tasty orange half-moons, light up your eyes like a gorgeous sunset. That’s the thing about wild mushrooms — once you see them, you can’t unsee them. After an education in foraging, you’ll be forever scanning your surroundings, trying to manifest treasure.

As I carried back my sack of mushrooms that first time, I thought about that man who woke up in Hell’s Hollow in the night. How must he have felt? Aimless, one would assume. Probably searching for a way out of the darkness. Disoriented, without a clue where he might be in relation to the outside world. Maybe that’s what Hell is. Maybe it’s quite simply feeling lost and alone. The pandemic can feel like that, as though you’re traversing an endless dark wilderness hoping to catch a light in the distance that’ll guide you back to society. But is that a new feeling? Hasn’t it always been that way? Maybe all of life has just been wandering in the dark.

Anyway, I’m glad to be walking through the woods with a purpose.

Danny Palumbo is a comedian and writer living in Los Angeles.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2JUbLZq https://ift.tt/3korg8w

Getty Images

While the rest of the country focused on something other than the forest floor, I started foraging for chanterelles

For about 30 seconds, I was reminded that the rest of the world was focused on something other than the forest floor.

daveynin/Flickr

A view from the Hell’s Hollow Trail in McConnells Mill State Park, Pennsylvania

When I’m hunting for mushrooms it feels like I’m achieving something tangible.

Anyway, I’m glad to be walking through the woods with a purpose.

Danny Palumbo is a comedian and writer living in Los Angeles.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2JUbLZq via Blogger https://ift.tt/38Dk0DK

#Blogger #cooking #Eater #food #recipes

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fmdartemisia · 4 years ago

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Ko Jueun (Artemisia) Relationship Aesthetics & Headcanon : Ko Jongtae & Ko Jueun

the relationship between the sia and her second brother, whom after her third brother who was the closest in age, remained the next closest individual that she personally felt the closest to. although most of the time sia makes fun of her brother and say that he’s an idiot because of his frivolous and loud, but charming nature, she adores him, and feels deeply indebted to him, especially in part that due to having to take care of her and send her to a good school, her second brother sacrificed a life of being able to be known for his talent to work behind the scenes for their family.

word count: 852 words

...yeah she remembers the most embarrassing about her older second brother being the time that he posted on his instagram feed disclosing her unprecedented nickname of juju to the general masses, accompanied with a random childhood photograph of her bear hugging a winnie the pooh and grinning like a wild chimpanzee. its the cause of his instagram feed exploding with lots of followers, due to the severe lack of posting that sia usually does for herself on her instagram.

she ends up making a random secret instagram account named eyesopenjongtae for herself, in order to keep track of what he usually does on his instagram feed, and not expose her even further when she doesn’t need the publicity.

the second in the family, jongtae is at least 8-9 years older than her, almost similar to her eldest brother, who is a good 10 years older than her. despite being on in his late thirties, jongtae looks like he’s in his mid-forties, owing to the multiple and endless hours that he had done in his much younger days, working together with their eldest brother to make money for the family.

he’s one of the three gifted musicians in the ko family, jongtae, their third brother iseul and finally sia are the three that inherited a lot of the musical genius and potential from their parents, who were operatic singers and performers. he was originally the first person in their family to learn music (piano), and was recognised pretty widely for his talent in music performance and being a musical genius.

after their parents’ deaths, jongtae took to performing at various hotel lobbies for hours on end, or being privately employed on occasion just to be able to send both sia and her brother to good schools.

apart from her third brother, sia and jongtae are the closest--also partly due to the effort he made to continually stay in contact and raise her properly (since he had a motherly role amongst all of them in the family), and because jongtae was the one that taught her all she knew about piano.

sia’s first music lesson was taught by jongtae, and when she sped far ahead in front of him due to her music potential, he was also the one that encouraged her to go for a music course or a music school. jongtae also taught her and her third brother the basics of music composition, which set the foundation for the both her and her third brother being able to write their various compositions for music and production.

jongtae often gets to hear all the various tracks that sia produces before its put out, and gives his sharp, honest opinion, all of which sia deeply appreciates...until he starts being a dramatic queen who loves too much gossip.

sia bought all of her home studio equipment with the money she earned from cheating jongtae, because he wanted photos / selcas to post of her and her best friend on his instagram feed, which she and her best friend both ended up learning that they could cheat him for 50 bucks a piece with similar photographs in one whole set, and what mattered was the QUANTITY and not the QUALITY. hence jongtae has the most blackmailable photos of both sia and her best friend, and that is also half of the reason why she doesn’t really disobey him either.

ko jongtae is most recognized by his easily known tag of using the flower jemoticon for almost all of his comments and captions.

he’s single, and gay as well, a very supportive individual when it comes to lgbtq rights, and one of the most vocal and outspoken social butterflies amongst the four of the ko family siblings, whom are mostly introverts and homebodies by nature.

sia called her second brother a general enigma, because none of them understand how they ended up with a dramatic and nosy individual but hilarious individual like him in their family. jongtae is also the one responsible for nagging in their chats, sending multiple messages all at one shot to their family group chat.

due to his sociable nature as well, should any of sia’s friends ever want to be invited to their chuseok, thanksgiving or christmas dinners at their humble home, all they have to do is to reach out to the ko second brother and ask for an invite by just naming that they’re sia’s friends...and sia would NEVER know that they’ve been invited.

if any of sia’s friends stay over at her place...they’d be very much treated to questionable busybody antics by her brother, trying to find out more about his sister’s love life, and that is exactly why that sia never invites any of her friends or the little friends she has to her home. the only person thus far that knows about her brothers and what not is her best friend miyeon. sia usually keeps her family rather private to her own self, so apart from the vague things they know is mainly that she has two older brothers--unless they by chance, find ko jongtae’s instagram feed.

#AESTHETICS 🎼 the music artist #HEADCANONS: 🎼 like an arrow in the skies #((wc: 852 words))#((+3 points))

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fabiancbishop · 5 years ago

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Suitcase in tow, gripped by the handle with a firm grasp, Fabian makes his way within the studio. This is unfamiliar territory. It's his first day within Prometheus Productions as the Contract Liaison, taking the place of the last one before the blood has been bleached off the man's wall just beneath a bullet. An execrable way to end one's life, but that has no bearing on Fabian's workload. In fact, he's left quite the pile in his lap to attend to.

"I beg your pardon," he speaks to the nearest person to him, the badge pinned to his chest like a boy scout receiving his first achievement, "but my time is too limited to spend frivolously. Would you happen to locate the director for me? It is of the utmost importance that I see them at once. It has been brought to my attention that there has been a discrepancy between the work that has been accomplished and what adheres to the contractual obligations set by Prometheus Productions."

#cancelled.starter

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thatsnotcanonpodcasts · 5 years ago

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Pokémon Crash, Beetles & Fox Movies

Hello and welcome to another illuminating episode of fun and frivolity with those goofballs from Nerds Amalgamated. First up we have a story about how Nintendo are crashing Roku devices. That’s right, Nintendo have an issue with Pokémon Sword and Shield that is causing Roku to crash and shut down. Now if you want to know more you will need to listen in and then you can tell us what you think in our Facebook group if you think Buck is being to grumpy.

Next up we have the start of Jurassic Park with a beetle trapped in amber. That’s right, a real beetle trapped in amber. This one in particular is historical due to a few important factors, such as the age of the beetle. Would you believe it was around almost 100 million years ago? That’s right and it played an important part in the local ecology. Want to know how the listen in for our second story and then tell us what was your favourite part of the Jurassic Park movies?

Last up we have those poor people at Disney having to vault movies to try and increase the value and increase the margins. That’s right, since Disney the evil organization seeing world domination have bought Fox media they have begun to reduce access to Fox movies to create a false scarcity. This is only one of the underhanded things that they are doing, if you want to know more you know what to do. Also let us know what you think about these dirty tricks by Disney in our group.

Pokémon Sword and Shield crashing Roku devices - https://www.cnet.com/how-to/pokemon-sword-and-shield-are-making-rokus-crash-nintendo-switch/

A beetle in amber - https://www.futurity.org/beetle-in-amber-first-flower-pollination-2208542-2/

Fox Movies being vaulted by Disney - https://www.vulture.com/2019/10/disney-is-quietly-placing-classic-fox-movies-into-its-vault.html

Games currently playing

Buck

– Spyro - https://store.steampowered.com/app/996580/Spyro_Reignited_Trilogy/

Rating – 4.5/5

Prof

– DNP

– Age of Empires Definitive Edition bundle - https://store.steampowered.com/bundle/11831/Age_of_Empires_Definitive_Edition_Bundle/

Rating – 4/5

Other Topics Discussed

Reddit post on Pokemon Sword & Shield crashing roku devices

- https://www.reddit.com/r/pokemon/comments/dxc5yg/psa_pokemon_swordshield_causes_roku_devices_on/

Roku (Digital Media Player)

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roku

Super Smash Bros. Ultimate (2018 crossoverfighting game developed by Bandai Namco Studios and Sora Ltd., and published by Nintendo for the Nintendo Switch)

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Super_Smash_Bros._Ultimate

Link (Legend of Zelda character)

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Link_(The_Legend_of_Zelda)

Pebble (discontinued smartwatch developed by Pebble Technology Corporation)

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pebble_(watch)

Pokémon Sword and Shield Pokédex cut can be permanent

- https://www.techradar.com/au/news/pokemon-sword-and-shields-pokedex-cut-could-be-permanent

Pokémon Sword and Shield Pokédex restored by hackers

- https://www.polygon.com/2019/11/18/20970489/pokemon-sword-shield-hacking-modding-national-dex-cut-monsters-nintendo-switch

Helium leak disables iPhones

- https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/gye4aw/why-a-helium-leak-disabled-every-iphone-in-a-medical-facility

The Magic Switch

- http://catb.org/jargon/html/magic-story.html

Pterodactylus (extinct genus of pterosaurs, whose members are commonly known as pterodactyls)

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pterodactylus

Pollination of Cretaceous flowers (Article by Tong Bao, Bo Wang, Jianguo Li, and David Dilcher)

- https://www.pnas.org/content/early/2019/11/05/1916186116

Witchetty Grub (term used in Australia for the large, white, wood-eating larvae of several moths)

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Witchetty_grub

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Copyright_infringement

More details on Disney vaulting 20th Century Fox Movies

- https://collider.com/disney-vault-20th-century-fox-movies/

Baby Driver’s Edgar Wright Isn’t Happy About Disney Putting Fox’s Movies In The Vault

- https://www.cinemablend.com/news/2484090/baby-drivers-edgar-wright-isnt-happy-about-disney-putting-foxs-movies-in-the-vault

Artificial Scarcity (the scarcity of items that exists even though either the technology for production or the sharing capacity exists to create a theoretically limitless or at least greater quantity of production than currently exists)

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Artificial_scarcity

Sony keeping Spiderman

- https://variety.com/2019/film/news/sony-marvel-tom-holland-spider-man-1203351489/

Fox Searchlight Pictures (American film studio that is a subsidiary of The Walt Disney Studios, a division of The Walt Disney Company)

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fox_Searchlight_Pictures

JoJo Rabbit (2019 American satirical black comedy film written and directed by Taika Waititi, based on Christine Leunens's book Caging Skies)

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jojo_Rabbit

Guy Ritchie (English film director, film producer, screenwriter, and businessman, known for his British gangster films)

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guy_Ritchie

Aladdin (2019 American musical fantasy film produced by Walt Disney Pictures)

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aladdin_(2019_film)

Age of Empire 2 old intro

- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rS_n3JVTPE

Wololo sound effect

- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jNTxlafhWYo

Glenn Martin, DDS (American/Canadian adult stop-motion animated sitcom that premiered on Nick at Nite on August 17, 2009)

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glenn_Martin,_DDS

Musicals Taught Me Everything I Know (TNC Podcast)

- https://thatsnotcanon.com/mtmeik

Shoutouts

16 Nov 1902 - Brooklyn toymaker Morris Michtom named the teddy bear after US President Teddy Roosevelt. It was named in honor of President Theodore Roosevelt, after he refused to shoot a bear during a Mississippi hunting trip in November 1902. During the trip, guides clubbed a bear and tied it to a tree then invited the president to shoot it; instead, Roosevelt, an avid outdoorsman and hunter, declined, saying it would be unsportsmanlike to kill a defenseless animal that way. - https://www.nps.gov/thrb/learn/historyculture/storyofteddybear.htm

18 Nov 1926 - Writer and playwright George Bernard Shaw refused to accept money from the Nobel Prize. Shaw initially wanted to refuse the Nobel Prize in general, in line with his principle of not receiving public recognition, but his wife convinced him to receive the award. - https://history.info/on-this-day/1926-why-did-george-bernard-shaw-refuse-the-money-from-the-nobel-prize/

18 Nov 2019 – Shoutout to the firefighters, SES, Ambulance services, Police, RSPCA & other services - https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-7703587/Australia-scorched-125-year-heatwave-bushfires-continue-burn.html

20 Nov 2019 - Dr Karl Kruszelnicki is being awarded the 2019 UNESCO Kalinga Prize for the Popularisation of Science. Dr Karl is the first Australian to win the prize, which he received in recognition of his "longstanding commitment to fire up people's curiosity for science and share his passion for the subject". He prides himself on being able to explain in minutes concepts or ideas that take him hours to research and understand. - https://www.abc.net.au/news/science/2019-11-20/dr-karl-kruszelnicki-unesco-award-science-communication/11717044

Remembrances

18 Nov 1962 - Niels Henrik David Bohr, Danish physicist who made foundational contributions to understanding atomic structure and quantum theory, for which he received the Nobel Prize in Physics in 1922. Bohr was also a philosopher and a promoter of scientific research. Bohr developed the Bohr model of the atom, in which he proposed that energy levels of electrons are discrete and that the electrons revolve in stable orbits around the atomic nucleus but can jump from one energy level (or orbit) to another. Bohr was involved with the establishment of CERN and the Research Establishment Risø of the Danish Atomic Energy Commission and became the first chairman of the Nordic Institute for Theoretical Physics in 1957. He died from heart failure at the age of 77 in Copenhagen - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Niels_Bohr

18 Nov 1941 - Walther Hermann Nernst, German chemist known for his work in thermodynamics, physical chemistry, electrochemistry and solid state physics. His formulation of the Nernst heat theorem helped pave the way for the third law of thermodynamics, for which he won the 1920 Nobel Prize in Chemistry. He is also known for developing the Nernst equation in 1887. Nernst developed an electric piano, the "Neo-Bechstein-Flügel" in 1930 in association with the Bechstein and Siemens companies, replacing the sounding board with vacuum tube amplifiers. The piano used electromagnetic pickups to produce electronically modified and amplified sound in the same way as an electric guitar. He died from a heart attack at the age of 77 in Zibelle, Landkreis Rothenburg, Gau Lower Silesia or present-day Niwica, Lubusz Voivodeship - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walther_Nernst

18 Nov 2017 - Malcolm Young, Australian musician and songwriter, best known as a co-founder, rhythm guitarist, backing vocalist and songwriter for the hard rock band AC/DC. Except for a brief absence in 1988, he was with the band from its November 1973 beginning until retiring in 2014 due to health reasons. Young and the other members of AC/DC were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2003. Malcolm was described as the driving force and the leader of the band. In 2014, he stated that despite his retirement from the band, AC/DC was determined to continue making music with his blessing. As the rhythm guitarist, he was responsible for the broad sweep of the band's sound, developing many of their guitar riffs and co-writing the band's material with Angus. He died from dementia at the age of 64 in Elizabeth Bay, New South Wales - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malcolm_Young

Famous Birthdays

18 Nov 1939 - Margaret Eleanor Atwood, Canadian poet, novelist, literary critic, essayist, inventor, teacher, and environmental activist. Since 1961, she has published 17 books of poetry, 16 novels, 10 books of non-fiction, eight collections of short fiction, eight children's books, and one graphic novel, as well as a number of small press editions in poetry and fiction. Atwood is also the inventor and developer of the LongPen and associated technologies that facilitate remote robotic writing of documents. Several of her works have been adapted for film and television, increasing her exposure. Atwood's works encompass a variety of themes including gender and identity, religion and myth, the power of language, climate change, and "power politics". Many of her poems are inspired by myths and fairy tales which interested her from a very early age. She was born in Ottawa,Ontario - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Margaret_Atwood

18 Nov 1953 - Kevin Nealon, American comedian and actor. He was a cast member on Saturday Night Live from 1986 to 1995, acted in several of the Happy Madison films, played Doug Wilson on the Showtime series Weeds, and provided the voice of the title character, Glenn Martin, on Glenn Martin, DDS. He was born in St. Louis, Missouri - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kevin_Nealon

18 Nov 1961 - Steven Moffat, Scottish television writer and producer. He is best known for his work as showrunner, writer and executive producer of two BBC One series: the science fiction television series Doctor Who, and the contemporary crime drama television series Sherlock, based on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories. In 2015, Moffat was appointed Officer of the Order of the British Empire for his services to drama. He was born in Paisley - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steven_Moffat

Events of Interest

17 Nov 1999 - Sleepy Hollow came out, it earned decent reviews and doing solid business. Burton fanatics who loved his creepy aesthetic were thrilled to finally have a true horror film from the director at last. - https://nerdist.com/article/sleepy-hollow-tim-burton-20th-anniversary/

18 Nov 1865 – Mark Twain's short story "The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County" is published in the New York Saturday Press where it appeared as "Jim Smiley and His Jumping Frog". In it, the narrator retells a story he heard from a bartender, Simon Wheeler, at the Angels Hotel in Angels Camp, California, about the gambler Jim Smiley. The narrator describes him: "If he even seen a straddle bug start to go anywheres, he would bet you how long it would take him to get to wherever he going to, and if you took him up, he would foller that straddle bug to Mexico but what he would find out where he was bound for and how long he was on the road." - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Celebrated_Jumping_Frog_of_Calaveras_County

18 Nov 1978 - In Jonestown, Guyana, Jim Jones led his Peoples Temple to a mass murder–suicide that claimed 918 lives in all, 909 of them in Jonestown itself, including over 270 children. Congressman Leo Ryan is murdered by members of the Peoples Temple hours earlier. Jonestown resulted in the largest single loss of American civilian life in a deliberate act until September 11, 2001. - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jonestown

18 Nov 2015 - "Kangaroo Dundee" wildlife TV series premieres featuring Brolga and Roger the ripped Kangaroo on BBC Two - https://www.onthisday.com/date/2015/november/18

Intro

Artist – Goblins from Mars

Song Title – Super Mario - Overworld Theme (GFM Trap Remix)

Song Link - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-GNMe6kF0j0&index=4&list=PLHmTsVREU3Ar1AJWkimkl6Pux3R5PB-QJ

Facebook

- Page - https://www.facebook.com/NerdsAmalgamated/

- Group - https://www.facebook.com/groups/440485136816406/

Twitter - https://twitter.com/NAmalgamated

Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/show/6Nux69rftdBeeEXwD8GXrS

iTunes - https://itunes.apple.com/au/podcast/top-shelf-nerds/id1347661094

RSS - http://www.thatsnotcanonproductions.com/topshelfnerdspodcast?format=rss

Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/nerds_amalgamated/

General Enquiries

Email - [email protected]

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harrytafoya-blog · 6 years ago

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The AIDS Memorial Grove is the True Heart of San Francisco

I’ve lived in San Francisco long enough to see the city through the fog, at the slant where Market Street runs diagonal to the ocean and the clouds churn slowly over Dolores Park. At this axis the physical city gives way to a psychic city, where cramped Victorians and one-way streets reveal their hidden depths, thresholds to a parallel San Francisco whose vastness and potential cannot be contained by a seven-by-seven peninsula.

I’ve lived in San Francisco long enough to begin to lose sight of this parallel city, as its infinite promise is circumscribed by failures of imagination—needless solutions to frivolous problems and a pitiless lack of answers for daily crises. The ethos of this parallel place, the Haight-Ashbury dream of leading a mindfully communal, fiercely independent life, has not been renewed since the ’60s. It’s a spirit that feels incompatible with tech’s cult of personality and iconography of progress—a tension made manifest through heartbreaking juxtapositions: glittering, empty skyscrapers rising from filthy, tent-ridden streets; impossible advances incapable of advancing anything at all.

For the past few years the National AIDS Memorial Grove in Golden Gate Park has been my refuge from the noise and contradictions of the rest of the city. It is a 30-minute walk from my apartment, but feels worlds away; a parcel of land as insulated from the shouts of Koret playground and the fumes of Hippie Hill as it is from the ubiquity of AirPods and the looming Salesforce Tower. It provides a rare public space for personal epiphanies and private contemplation, and situates them in the midst of one of San Francisco’s greatest communal projects.

The Grove was first conceived at the height of the AIDS epidemic in the late ’80s, a time founding member Alice Russell-Shapiro remembers as “when people would lose everyone in their address books.” Spurred to action by crisis conditions and the inescapability of the reality of sickness, a small group of San Franciscans gathered to create a memorial that would raise awareness, honor the deceased and provide a location for the living to reflect upon what remained.

Like many queer spaces, the AIDS Memorial Grove imagined and actualized a context for itself where none had existed previously. Situated in the former de Laveaga Dell, a once-derelict corner of Golden Gate Park that formerly ranked among its most dangerous areas, the Grove is a revitalized place. In 1996, it was designated a National Memorial by Congress and President Bill Clinton; the Grove has raised a sizable endowment for its preservation. Since 1991, when the Grove first inaugurated its monthly workdays, volunteers have spent a quarter of a million hours refurbishing the site.

The once-flooded meadow has been irrigated into a green pasture surrounded by slopes teeming with flowers; the only remaining evidence of overflow is the stream that snakes down the paths from a mouth at the Fern Grotto. The volunteers’ next project will be to restore the lavender slope, an herb valued as much for its soothing properties as for its pleasing shade of purple-blue. “The color palette that was designated in the original masterplan calls for no bright colors,” says the Grove's executive director, John Cunningham. “Everything is supposed to be serene and contemplative.”

“I like that it’s something that you occupy and come upon, but almost at a parallel place to the rest of the park,” says Jason Oliveira, a San Francisco resident I met reading a book by the stream. “It feels like a memorial, not a monument.”

A conventional monument—a statue or plaque—would diffuse the sense of serenity that pervades the Grove by concentrating its energy upon a single focal point. Attempts at figuration would prove futile in themselves. No body could span the experience of resisting the virus, nor in rendering that resistance would you necessarily capture the warmth and vivacity of those afflicted by it.

The Grove acknowledges this with a 1996 poem by Thom Gunn inscribed in stone at the western Fern Grotto: “Walker within this circle / pause / although they all died of one cause / remember how their lives were dense with fine compacted difference.”

In their pursuit of fine compacted difference, the Grove offers a portrait of a community and the charm, wit and weirdness of the characters who populated it. Among the benches and boulders are tributes to the disco diva Sylvester and deceased members of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. Beach Blanket Babylon, Lazy Bear and Chuck Holmes of the adult film studio Falcon are thanked for their support. A boulder in honor of Jody Bloomquist is framed by budding bluebells: “Bloom you did! / Beloved friend!” And the poetry of a dedication at Moonwalk Way never fails to take my breath away: “To Douglas Watson and Larry Silva / who met the day humans walked on the moon.”

But the Memorial is not wholly queer in character. An alcove carved out of the slope looking over the meadow is dedicated to the hemophilia community—from the late ’70s to the mid ’80s, 90 percent of the condition’s severe sufferers were infected with the virus by a contaminated blood supply. The breadth of the Memorial’s inclusiveness is as impressive as it is haunting.

The Grove is at its most powerful at the Circle of Friends. “Golden Gate Park is the heart of San Francisco, the Grove is the heart of Golden Gate Park, and the Circle of Friends is the heart of the AIDS Memorial Grove” intone several narrators in a video about the memorial. I agree. Sometimes in the cathedral silence, beneath the shadow of the redwoods that grow in a patch just beyond that flagstone circle, I swear that I can feel a spectral hand on my shoulder.

Being gay can feel like being the heir to an invisible kingdom, the dimensions of which become more illuminated and expansive upon learning its history. But my gut tightens every time I consider the Circle even at the remove of ignorance and youth. “You should be alive!” I want to scream, looking at the impossible sprawl of names. It curdles into anger when I recognize the names of those who are still alive—Tom Hanks, Sharon Stone, Elton John. Neither the Vietnam Veterans Memorial nor the September 11 Memorial mix the names of its community’s supporters with its fallen.

When I first noticed the living it threw into question the cultural integrity of what it means to be an ally, a pressing concern as corporations and interest groups wield proximity to queerness as a biscuit or a wedge to push their product or policy. But the aims of the Grove are undeniably pure, even if I personally find the inclusion of those names inappropriate. As Russell-Shapiro reminded me, these were the people who loved and cared for those with AIDS, who fulfilled the duties and intimacies birth families were unwilling or unable to take on, who advocated and fundraised and provided the basis for this space to exist.

More credit should be given to their sincere efforts; more scrutiny should be applied to monied groups supplanting action with wealth after the fact.

In Tony Kushner’s 1991 play, Angels in America, heaven is depicted as a San Francisco in ruins, irreparably shocked from the day God left the city, an occasion marked by the 1906 earthquake. Burdened by bureaucracy and shaken by tremors that persist in his absence, the angels dread progress in a directionless future for fear of worse things to come.

The AIDS Memorial Grove was created in the wake one of the worst things to have ever happened, a localized apocalypse that decimated whole worlds. In its example of calmness, distance and community, the Memorial Grove proposes a new perspective (or even spirituality) for how to view and experience the city, a means of shifting parallel lines so that they may meet once again.

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risrielthron · 6 years ago

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Risri Elthron

Tagged by @summysparklesprocket

Character’s Full Name: Risri Elthron (formerly Kal’serrar) Reason or Meaning of Name: Risri was named after a place important to her parents. (OOCly, I got it from a name generator and have used it ever since) Character’s Nickname/Alias: Ris, Big Bear Reason for Nickname/Alias: shortened form of Risri, @skystoneseat give everyone she likes a nickname, she dubbed Risri Big Bear for the obvious reasons. :) Birth Date: April 1st

Physical appearance

Age: 406 How old does he/she appear: Upper 20′s Lower 30′s Weight: average Height: little shorter than the normal Kaldorei Body build: athletic Shape of face: oval Eye color: Silver Glasses or contacts: Neither Skin tone: pale purple Distinguishing marks: claw mark tattoos on her face Predominant features: like most Kaldorei her ears and shining eyes, along with the tattoos on her face. Hair color: Violet Type of hair: long and straight, soft to the touch Hairstyle: She almost always is wearing it down straight Voice: a soft accent Overall Attractiveness: Like most Kaldorei, she has a look that many have said is attractive. She thinks of herself as average. Physical Disabilities: None. Usual Fashion of Dress: She is most often in comfortable clothes. Dresses, skirts, or a comfortable pair of pants. Favorite Outfit: A blue, green, and gold dress. Jewelry or Accessories: She has a silver bracelet on her left wrist, a ruby necklace and a crystal that she wears frequently.

Personality

Good Personality Traits: She is a curious, intelligent, and kind Kaldorei. She has no trouble initiating conversation with people from all walks of life. Her natural curiosity made her an excellent interviewer. Bad Personality Traits: She can be overprotective and some have said she is overbearing in her concern for those she sees as under her protection. Mood Character is Most Often In: She is most often happy and pleasant. Sense of Humor: She finds humor in those that are sassy or sarcastic. While she rarely lets that side show, she appreciates it.Character’s Greatest Joy In Life: Flying Character’s Greatest Fear: being mind controlled What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? She has experienced some of this already, the death of those she loves is something that she has a hard time with. If anyone in her inner circle were to die she would be devastated. Character Is Most at Ease When: She’s with those she cares about or out in nature. Most Ill at Ease When: Underground or when someone is exceptionally rude. Enraged When: Someone threatens her loved ones. Depressed or Sad When: When she has failed to protect someone. Life Philosophy: Do what you can to be a good person at all costs. If Granted One Wish, It Would Be: All those she cares for were happy. Character’s Soft Spot: children, gnomes, animals Is This Soft Spot Obvious to Others? If you see her around any of those you might sense it. Greatest Strength: Her intellect/creativity, and her ability to talk and be friends with anyone. Greatest Vulnerability or Weakness: Risri believes that inherently people are good and want to do good. This can lead her to trusting in people she shouldn’t. Biggest Regret: Not selling the paper sooner. Minor Regret: Allowing the Warden to get under her skin and maker her angry. Biggest Accomplishment: Running the paper successfully. Minor Accomplishment: Opening the photography studio. Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: Allowing her Sentinel unit to die. Character’s Darkest Secret: She has beserker like tendenacies. Does Anyone Else Know? A small group of people.

Goals

Drives and Motivations: To share her curiosity with others, to be a good person. Immediate Goals: Keep the studio profitable. Long Term Goals: Find a more permanent cure for her fel corruption residual effects. How the character plans to accomplish these goals: The studio she is feeling is going well, she could market it more but at present she is enjoying the slower pace. Her longer term goals, Sky is helping with. How Other Characters Will Be Affected: Hopefully people have some great pictures to share their memories with others. Her anger hasn’t gotten unmanageable yet so the pressure to find the cure has not become pressing but when it does others might be shocked or put off by her emotions.

Past

Hometown: Near Feathermoon, Feralas Type of Childhood: Well-loved, happy for the most part Pets: Flutter First Memory: Her father’s voice as he read to her. Most Important Childhood Memory: Finding Flutter’s egg. Childhood Hero: Tyrande, Shandris, her father. Dream Job: Right now, running the studio is pretty close. Perhaps someday to go back to teaching. Education: formal schooling, Sentinel training, Druid training Religion: Worships Elune and the Wild Gods. Finances: For a Kaldorei, she is well off. She is not frivolous with her spending, and selling the paper gave her a nest egg that she has invested in the studio.

Present

Current Location: Stormwind Currently Living With: She lives with Dragaur in his apartment in the Mage District. Occupation: Business Owner of A Moment in Time Photography Studio Finances: Upper Middle Class

Family

Siblings: None Relationship With Them: n/a Spouse: None Relationship With Them: n/a Children: none. Relationship With Them: n/a Other Important Family Members: Alistra, her mother; Tara, her aunt; a few cousins

Favorites

Color: Teal Least Favorite Color: chartreuse Music: Soft instrumental Food: pastry. Literature: Everything. Form of Entertainment: reading, writing, spending time with Dra, taking photographs. Expressions: soft chuckles Mode of Transportation: Flight Most Prized Possession: Her father’s staff.

Habits

Hobbies: Photography, alchemy. Plays a musical instrument? No Plays a sport? No How they would spend a rainy day? Either outside in it, or curled up with a good book. Spending Habits: Frugal and cautious. Smokes: never. Drinks: Rarely Other Drugs: Rarely What does he/she do too much of? overthink / over-analysis a situation. What does he/she do too little of? Sleep. Extremely Skilled At: Photography, alchemy, shifting to the forms she knows, being compassionate, cooking. Extremely Unskilled At: Mechanical or technical things Nervous Tics: will spin her bracelet Usual Body Posture: Standing straight. Mannerisms: Happy, smiling, genuine. Peculiarities: maintains a serene smile with only her eyebrows giving away any clue to her emotional state (especially with strangers)

Traits

Optimist or Pessimist? Optimist. Introvert or Extrovert? a mix Daredevil or Cautious? Cautious Logical or Emotional? a mix Disorderly and Messy or Methodical and Neat? Methodical and Neat Prefers Working or Relaxing? a mix of both Confident or Unsure of Himself? confident most of the time. Animal lover? Yes

Self-perception

How She Feels About Herself: Outwardly appears confident, inwardly she may over worry. One Word Character Would Use To Describe Themselves: Kind Paragraph Description on How They’d Describe Themselves: “The world moves at such a fast pace, I want to capture it and share glimpses into those moments that pass by so quickly. I try to be sincere and kind to any and all I meet because you never know what is hiding behind the smile.” What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? Her ability to talk calmly with almost anyone. What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? Her tendency to be overprotective. What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? Her smile. What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? She’s happy with her appearance truthfully. How does the character think others perceive him/her? Standoffish or hard to approach, some because of her fame as the owner of the paper and some because she is a Kaldorei. What would the character most like to change about himself/herself? To be more discerning without giving up the trust or faith in people.

Relationships with others

Opinion of Other People in General: That most are just trying to live thier life and be good. Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Often. Person Character Most Hates: Elyza Morrowbranch @wardennerd Best friend(s): Sky Stoneseat @skystoneseat. Dragaur @silentasagrave, Selise Graves @selisegraves, Jazimina Stratford. Love interest(s): Dragaur Person Character (Would) Go to For Advice: Her mother or Sky or Selise Person Character Feels Responsible For: Sky Person Character Feels Awkward Around: noone Person Character Openly Admires: Selise and Sky Person Character Secretly Admires: Masnira @enigmatic-elegance

#risri #updated

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fakesam · 7 years ago

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Belated Black Panther Thoughts

Everything happening regarding Black Panther right now feels like a miracle. You can only congratulate a giant, increasingly powerful conglomerate so much for realizing black money runs the same as white money, but it is still a moment to be celebrated. Seeing a movie this proudly black in the limelight, with such a large budget and plenty of promotional backing, is delightfully paradoxical given the toxic whiteness infecting the national atmosphere from the top down. This movie dropped at the right time. The biggest individual piece of promo comes courtesy of Black Panther: The Album, curated by Kendrick Lamar and the rest of the Top Dawg Entertainment braintrust. Licensed movie soundtracks have experienced something like renaissance over the last couple years, a business maneuver congealing the interests of film studios looking for anything to boost social media traffic and musicians to get some extra exposure and a decent payday. The results of these partnerships has been mixed at best, even when the Best Rapper Alive is involved. Remember when Kendrick rapped over an overly macho remix of Tame Impala’s “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards”? Most people don’t.

Even with this project, it was easy to develop some cynicism about the final results. Kendrick has become more and more intransigent about being the voice of the voiceless, but he’s hasn't been above easy mainstream pop dollars in the past. Man gave verses to Taylor Swift and Maroon 5, and performed with Imagine Dragons. “All The Stars”, the most successful single off The Album, is a pleasant enough pop-rap hit that struts perfectly over the end credits of a blockbuster, but it lacks the depth of feeling that has made Lamar the current Poet Laureate of Black America. There’s also “Pray For Me”, a Weeknd and Kendrick collab that sounds like it was salvaged off the Starboy cutting room floor. These songs are fine, but eminently forgettable. Thankfully, these tracks are clear outliers, the lone examples of mainstream genuflecting across the entire project. The uniqueness and specificity that makes Black Panther so appealing as a film is also apparent in the sprawling sonic odyssey of its soundtrack. It’s better than anyone could've hoped for.

The playlist era of album design, gives credence to the worst impulses of people just trying to get paid, narrative coherence be damned. Migos’ Culture II was ruined by an engorged tracklist that led to a runtime comparable to most of the nominees for Best Picture at the Oscars. Twenty-four songs was at least ten too many, but who needs an editor when the penalty for choosing quantity over quality is so minimal? But it’s the perfect format for a movie soundtrack.

Kendrick’s ability as a tastemaker has never really been a thing to consider until now. His albums are hermetically-sealed portraits of his psyche, exploring his personal tensions and how they’re informed by his personal history and the lineage of black strife in America. This intricate exploration of his inner self doesn’t leave much room for other voices - the featured artists welcomed into his world are brought in for a very specific purpose. Kendrick is also very selective about the songs of other artists he’s willing to jump on. Combine that with his social media reticence, and the lists of contemporaries that Kendrick listens to are tantalizingly vague. There’s an undeniable intrigue to learning who a near-consensus superstar genius deems worthy of the aux cord. Consciously leeching on to the burgeoning movements of younger rappers is a tactic that Drake has perfected over the years. The two current titans of hip-hop have been acting out a musical cold war for the last couple years, so it’s tempting in a sense to think of Black Panther: The Album as Kendrick running with Drake’s idea of a “playlist project” that he tried to make happen with the release of More Life.

But it’s much more tempting to talk about the sumptuous quality of this music on hand. The litany of artists brought together to assemble this album, a mix of established stars, burgeoning upstarts and total unknowns, bring disparate genres and musical approaches to the table, all cohesively strung together under the diasporic flag of black excellence.

It’s obvious in hindsight to see why Kendrick was so attracted to the project that he asked to oversee the entire soundtrack after watching snippets of the film during its production. The divide between T’Challa and Killmonger’s views on progress mirrors the internal strife that has Kendrick has been ruminating on his entire career. TDE took their role as gatekeepers seriously, drawing delineations between the conflicts of the movie and the endless struggle that is sadly inherent with the black experience. Black Panther could never have the intimate complexity of a solo Kendrick record, but it details the black experience with more nuance than many albums told from one perspective. The strokes are broad, but the completed painting is still worthy of admiration.

Most of TDE shows up in some form. SZA provides the hook on the aforementioned “All the Stars”, Schoolboy Q reminds us of his undeniable charisma on “X”. Ab-Soul puts together his first good verse since his 2012 album Control System on “Bloody Waters”. We even get a glimpse of the lesser seen, frivolous Kendrick on “Big Shot”, a bouncy, “New Freezer” interpolating Travis Scott collab that doubles as the latest entry in the “Dope Rap Songs built around a Flute Sample” pantheon. from rap to pop to heavily indebted house music from South Africa. But it’s the newer faces that making their formal introduction to larger audiences that makes this album genuinely exciting. SOB x RBE have received most of the acclaim for their scene-stealing performance on “Paramedic”, and that praise is warranted, but they’re not the only up and comers who killed it. Jorja Smith makes a war march sound like heaven on “I Am”, and South African artists Yugen Blakrok and Babes Wodumo make their case for international renown on “Opps” and the South African house jam “Redemption”. Kendrick is present on every song - his contributions ranging from being the best rapper alive to windy background vocalist - but he’s very much a secondary figure in the works of others.

It’s bears repeating how remarkable it is that this thing has been allowed to exist. That Future inhales a bunch of helium, interpolates Slick Rick, and asks for a blowjob with one absurdly entertaining turn of phrase. Someone at Marvel signed off on all of this. We should all be thankful for that man or woman or committee of persons. What could’ve been a simple cash grab for TDE becomes something much more stirring and exciting thanks to a commitment to take the source material seriously enough to use it as a launching point for work that is both evocative and entertaining. A perfect table setter for the main event.

As I sat in the chair of the theater waiting for the movie to start, I was slightly nervous about the quality of the movie. The hype cycle had spun into overdrive had built the movie to stratospheric heights. Black Panther stopped being a movie and became a religious communion. That’s a lot to live up to. Aside from the inescapable expectations created by fans, Marvel’s cinematic spell lost their power over me years ago, as the negative aspects of the “Movies as TV episodes” system became more glaring. Nothing of consequence ever happened and the action scenes were overwrought and anticlimactic, antiseptic, CGI-soaked action that put me to sleep. The last comic book movie I enjoyed without much reservation was the first Guardians of the Galaxy, way back in 2014, 87 years ago. Even Wonder Woman, one of the rare superhero films allowed to take some risks - as much as giving women the chance to be all-powerful warriors without the prompting of a man counts as a risk to some people - lost me during the third act when Gal Gadot fought a Bloodborne boss yelling corny “Give In To Evil and Join Me!!!!!!!” dialogue in the middle of a flaming airfield. When comic book movies go extremely comic book-y, I lose all interest. My expectations were middling despite the widespread adoration of the movie that compelled me to go see it in the first place. Not quite as cynical as I tend to be, but not wearing a T’Challa costume to the theater.

By the time the entire elite class of Wakanda was shimmying from on high while T’Challa fought for the throne of this Afro-futurist utopia (the first time this happens), I realized how wrong my assumptions were. I didn’t realize how much I needed this movie to exist. Just witnessing this much blackness - a proud, intelligent, secure version of blackness - actively enriched me while I was watching it. The power of representation isn’t lost on me, but I believed I was past the point where I would experience such gratification from a giant blockbuster. I underestimated how affirming it would be to see this much black prosperity on film. It’s amazing how impactful the casting of black actors in roles usually given to white people can be. I’m jealous of little kids who can look up to Shuri or T’Challa or Nakia and feel a little less ashamed of themselves at a young age. M’Baku’s capacity to be large and menacing and also capable of telling jokes about cannibalism is magical. I would watch all of these characters do anything for hours. Instant icons, all of them.

Black Panther also solves the eternal villain problem that’s been flummoxing superhero films since Heath Ledger died. Killmonger is incredible. He is still a villain, since his endgame of choice is to start a literal race war, but his motivations and reasoning up to that point are totally understandable. From an outsider’s perspective, Wakanda is this hovel of selfish conservatism that does nothing to stop systemic oppression and kills anyone who whispers about their existence too loudly. Sitting pretty in their Vibranium-powered towers above the struggle. It’d be easy to resent Wakanda if you’ve never seen Shuri pranking T’Challa in her lab. The most logical emotion for him is anger. He went out like a G, too. That last line was perfect. I would have liked to see more of a conversation between Killmonger and T’Challa before he took over, but you can only hope for so much civil rights philosophizing in a blockbuster. It was enough to feel like the obligatory third act battle was had actual stakes. Black Panther finally made the Game of Thrones fandom sensible to me. Political maneuvering can be way more engaging than I realized. Blame George Lucas for that train of thought.

I find it hard to think about this movie in any critical sense because I’m so happy that it was allowed to exist in this form. After sleeping on it, I will concede that the South Korea sequence didn’t need to be that long. The “Andy Serkis is a Soundcloud rapper” goof was an airball. But anyone who would rather complain about about the scene’s usefulness as a plot device more so than celebrate the badassery of Chadwick Boseman and Danai Gurira is not to be trusted. Same goes for the fact that this movie has a sense of humor that can’t be reduced to just Tony Stark saying something snarky or tryhard quirkiness, Guardians of the Galaxy 2 style. They really let Ryan Coogler do that shit. Black Panther is the first Marvel movie that was clearly in the hands of an auteur, with a vision uncompromised by studio notes or the compulsion to tie itself to the rest of Marvel Cinematic Universe. This movie never feigns interest in the machinations of the Avengers or whatever wold-destroying portal they need to destroy, and thank god for that. The narrowness of the story lends itself to much more in-depth character development and a sense of place. It rarely feels or looks like other Marvel movies. Wakanda is too good for reality, but the open designs of the shopping areas and the impeccable fashion of the citizens tied into the history of African culture in a way that's easy to intuit. Shoutout to the Codeine Crazy-esque skyline in T’Challa’s first herb-induced vision. Shoutout to the guy with the giant disc in his mouth. Man had fits for days.

Even my mom loved it. I saw the movie with her and Danai Gurira’s performance was so good that she thought about shaving her own head in her honor. She also said she wanted braids like Angela Bassett’s character, but quickly decided against it because of the time commitment to getting such a hairstyle. But getting that level of inspiration from a Marvel movie spells out how special Black Panther is. I rarely watch movies with her anymore. Our tastes have mostly split as I’ve grown up. I haven’t seen her that giddy walking out of the theater since… ever? Her love of the movie really made it clear how special this moment is for the culture. I kinda hate that I said for the culture, but I don’t know how to end this. Many thanks to Ryan Coogler and company for giving me that moment. Uhhhhhhhhhh bye.

#black panther #movies

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harley-quinnn · 7 years ago

Text

Mister Leto

Jared Leto x Reader

Masterlist | Requests

Prompt: Hi, I was wondering if you could write me a more hardcore daddy kink Jared one-shot? I would love that so much

{A/N} This was fun. That is all. Also, I know Jared was always, always in character for this film in particular, but it’s a Jared one shot, not a Joker one shot, so please bear with me! xo

Warnings: Hardcore daddy kink smut. More of a dream than a warning. Some cursing. “Remember, three mocha macchiatos, one with soy, one with extra mocha, and one with an affogato shot; One mocha frap.. and a pink drink for Margot.”

It’s your first day at Warner Brothers Studios for the new film Suicide Squad, and you’ve been lucky enough to be chosen to intern as an assistant/runner on-site. You knew this job would entail frivolous requests and long hours, for no pay, but it looked good on a resume and that’s all you needed.

“Yes, sir,” you tell the head of studio, also known as “the boss,” who’s been gracious enough to help you take everyone’s Starbucks orders.

“Hurry up!” he pushes as you turn to leave.

You head off to the Starbucks on the lot for tourists in a cafe area. You watch as people snap pictures of everything from the cafe itself to the large buildings that surround it, shaking your head at the starstruck people who clamored in front of an iPhone. After a slight wait, you grab the drink trays and hightail it back to Studio B, almost tripping on yourself as you see the boss speaking with Jared Leto himself.

You had heard rumors that he didn’t speak to anyone and that he stayed in character one-hundred percent of the time when he did. He wasn’t completely in character yet. His hair was still brown, his brows were existent, and he looked absolutely gorgeous. The nerves in your body send signals to your stomach, and you inwardly grow anxious. You have to go up to them, you have to interrupt their conversation with a measly drink; he has to notice you, at least a little. Sucking up the nerves, you pretend to be as confident as possible. “He isn’t even here... He isn’t even here,” you tell yourself.

“Here’s your extra mocha macchiato, sir,” you finally interrupt, not caring what they were talking about as you continued on with your drink rounds without so much as a glance in their direction. You hand a perspiring cup off to Will, Margot and the rest of the cast and crew who requested beverages before realizing there were none left. A quick peek over your shoulder tells you Jared and the boss are still speaking. You immediately exhale through loose lips. “Okay. I got this.”

The clacking of your heels accompanies your smile as you stand next to them, keeping a courteous distance while you await the direction of your next task.

“Ah, there you are,” he says, “Jared, this is {Y/N}, the new runner I told you about.”

His eyes meet yours and it’s like fire. Your entire body begins to beg for your permission to go limp. Quietly, you tell it to get a grip. His vascular arm extends towards you, holding his hand out to shake yours.

“I’m Jared, nice to meet you. It’s your first day and I’m already hearing some pretty great things about you. Great things. You internally scream with joy.

His smile could kill you if you let it, but you still had work to do. Pulling yourself together, a smile graces your {F/C} lips.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Leto. I look forward to taking orders from you,” you say, not catching the innuendo you’d just let slip.

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, eyes still on you.

A soft blush graces your {S/C} cheeks. Did he really just say that? Trying to stay professional, - and not lose your mind - you keep your composure the best you can.

“Of course, Mr. Leto. It’s my job.”

His smirk turns into a smile now, and he nods his head with an impressed expression on his countenance. It’s like you’ve either passed a test, or failed it, and you’re unsure of which he preferred. They continued their conversation for just a few moments longer before Jared paused. You swallow hard, unsure of what’s going to happen.

“Can I have her as my personal?” he says, catching you and the studio head off gaurd.

Your eyelids flutter in shock at his strange request, the confusion written all over your features gives you away immediately.

“Sorry, let me explain,” he starts. “You’re the only one who’s done this job so far who’s gotten any praises from this guy,” he finished, patting him on the back as if that’s supposed to let you know that that was a good enough explanation.

The boss, on the other hand, looked troubled, which concerned you all on its own. You stay quiet as you await his response. Your insides were burning with a desire for him to let you do this. “Please, please, please,” you begged in silence.

“Jared, are you sure you want to do that, she’s so... So new. I can’t-”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll teach her a few things.”

His tone is ice cool and yet lava hot. “Is this some kind of game?” He sighs before giving in, something you guessed anyone would do for Jared, and shrugs.

“She’s all yours, Leto. Try to go easy on her, at least. And {Y/N}, consider yourself lucky. Jared never takes to the new runners like this.” And with that, he trotted off to throw more comic books at Margot.

The silence that followed was deadly. It was all too awkward for you as you kept your eyes on the studio head as long as humanly possible before he disappeared. “What now? I’m his personal runner. And I should be lucky.”

“So,” he broke the silence first. “I know you have to be confused as hell right now.”

You nod, suddenly finding ground to stand on when you realize he understands.

“Yes, Mr. Leto. I have no idea what I did, but I guess it was the right thing,” you say, offering a small grin. “Please, call me Jared,” he smirks, gesturing for you to follow him.

You follow beside him back to his dressing room. The walk is quiet though you hoped he’d explain a little more as to what you did to deserve such an honor. He opens the door for you and leaves it cracked once he follows, sitting down in the chair across from the mirror and picking up the script.

“Make yourself comfortable, it’s gonna be a little while,” he breathes a short laugh and you relax, moving swiftly to the couch and sitting down.

You smooth out your skirt on the couch and politely look around, waiting, you guess, for the next task he’ll give you. He leans into the mirror, grabbing an eyeliner pencil and examining his face.

“What made you take this internship?” he asked.

“Oh, um...” You have to think, completely caught off guard by his small talk. Most jobs like this lent no room for questions, or really noticing the intern at all. “I’d love to work in the entertainment industry. Warner Brothers is my favorite, and I took the opportunity the moment I heard about it.”

He glides the pen under his eye, forming a small J.

“Do you like to act?” he asks, concentrating on his face. Though he sounds distracted, he also sounds as though he’s only focused on you.

“I love acting.”

“Beautiful,” he says in a new tone. A Jokery, tone.

“I’m not very good at it, but-”

“No, you,” he says next.

“Oh... Thank you, Mr. Leto.” You say softly, your {S/C} cheeks blushing as his eyes meet yours in the mirror. His stare is like paradise, and you could get lost in it forever. The small smirk that graces his lips as he applies another ‘tester’ face tattoo for the role is electrifying. Like a dose of heroin that any desperate junkie would find satiating. You feel the flower between your thighs dampening and look away, shifting in your seat on the couch.

“Be professional, {Y/N},” you think. “God, this is so unprofessional. At least he isn't like this with the other interns... No. He’s just preparing for the role... Relax-”

In two seconds, you’re pressed against the backrest of the couch and he’s leaning over top of you before you even realize what’s happened.

“Say it again,” he breathes, his expression a hard, desperate gaze as his mouth is slightly agape. You suddenly feel like his next meal rather than a new assistant. But the way his chest is silently heaving and his fingers are gripping the back of the couch on either side of your head, you don’t care.

“Mister Leto..” You draw out, your voice just octaves away from a signature baby-voice, “Sir..”

“Oh... Yeah..” he says, rolling his neck back. “I have to admit, the moment I saw you, and how well you take orders... I had to have you all to myself.”

Something about that entire sentence was so satisfying to you. The mere thought of being at Jared’s beck and call was more arousing than anything you’d experienced before. Your chest rises and falls, the tops of your breasts tightening against the {F/C} strapless top you wore under a blazer. Reluctantly, you reach a hand up to touch his chest over the tank top he had on. A hand grips around your wrist and it’s almost as if you expected it, a smirk subconsciously playing across your lips. He leans in closer, his lips hovering over yours before moving slowly to your cheek, then your jaw, and settling just over your ear.

“First,” he rasps, “I want you to take that jacket off for daddy... Can you do that for me, princess?”

You nod quickly.

“Holy shit, is this happening?”

Your hands work at the buttons on your blazer with haste, not wanting him to come to his senses and change his mind. Sliding out of the jacket now, his eyes are on your every delicate movement you make. He can’t wait to change that; to twist your delicacy into rough submissiveness.

“Good girl...” He says, bringing his hand to your waist and sliding it down to your hip. His touch is possessive, almost as though he’s hoping you won’t change your mind either. Your {E/C} eyes are fixated on his face, a jawline that could cut ice, lips perfectly shaped... His hand glides further down, igniting an anxious feeling now as a small laugh escapes him. He can tell you’re waiting for him to ‘scratch your itch,’ and he’s enjoying every moment of your new found desperation for him, and only him. Very softly, you feel his fingertips on the hem of your skirt, inching it up slowly as he presses his lips against your ear.

“Do you want me, kitten?” he asks, his voice smooth as velvet.

“Yes..” your voice trails, leaving you breathless.

“Yes what, baby girl?” “Yes, daddy...”

“If you don’t address me the way you’re supposed to, I’ll have to punish you,” he says, quickly standing back up in front of you.

In a whirl your world shattered, thinking you’ve made a huge mistake and now you’re left with nothing but the ache in your center. On the other hand, you notice the hard-on in his jeans, and the dampness of his skin. He was holding himself back more than you thought.

“This could be fun...” you think.

“And just how do you expect to do that?” you ask, trailing your fingers now to the pushed up hem of your skirt, holding his stare.

“Don’t you dare,” he warns, his tone harsh. The sound of it floors you in all the best ways possible, and you slide your fingers further up, spreading your legs and revealing your {F/C} thong to him.

“If your fingers even get close,” he says, reaching for his belt, “I’ll have no choice.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to have a choice,” you say, your brows lifting with a slight mocking tone as you let your fingers touch the damp, lacy fabric that barely covered your folds. You have no idea how far into this he could be, but you wanted him to push you to the ends of the earth if he could. Before you know it, you’re being pulled onto your knees with a belt looped around your neck. The faux leather is warm from his own body heat, and a smirk plays across your lips as you realize you’re eye level with his crotch. Reaching out to undo his pants, he stops you with a yank of the belt.

“I told you I’d have to punish you, princess,” he says, staring down at you, “I meant it.”

His free hand reaches down to undo his own pants, pushing them down with his boxers, swiftly revealing his hard cock to you. Your breath hitches at the sight. “Fuck.. It’s so big..” Suddenly, you’re intimidated and excited all at once. You can feel your own sweet spot throbbing as your brain disconnects from all reason, wanting nothing more than wrap your {F/C} lips around him. You lean forward, and pulls you back with the belt slowly.

“Nah-ah, kitten. You take daddy’s cock as he gives it to you, got it?” He says, moving just a little closer to you. You can’t handle the teasing. It was bad enough you wanted him inside of you, but now waiting just to get your mouth -and even hands- on it? He’s insane. But you hopelessly love it.

“Yes, daddy..” You say, submitting just to get a little taste.

“That’s my girl,” he says, giving in to his own desire as he allows you to take his member into your mouth.

Your eyes close just for a moment, in savory of his most private and sensitive part completely in your care. Running your tongue over it, sliding it into your mouth further and sucking on it, taking it all like a champ. He quickly became your own personal piece of candy. He groans, causing your eyes to open again, trailing back up to him. His head is bent back and you take pleasure in knowing it’s all because of you.

“Fuck,” he grumbles under his breath before you feel his hands roughly gripping into your hair, holding your head still as he begins to thrust into your mouth, watching you take his cock like the good girl he expected you to be. A wicked smirk lightly dances on his features as he watches you choke and moan, your throat opening and closing around him as your eyes grow wet. His groaning and thrusting is cut short when he notices your hand reaching for your own sex.

Immediately, he pulls you back by the belt, causing you to fall back against the seat of the couch.

“What daddy..?” You say, wiping some of the saliva from your lips with the back of your hand, turning your pout into a lipstick-smeared mess. “I can’t help it, I...” Your voice is tiny and pleading while you trail off, and your messy pout unhinges him more than even he’d like to admit.

“That’s my job, darlin’,” he says sternly, lifting his brows. His eyes land on your hand as he un-loops the belt from your neck, clearly out of breath.

“Bend over,” he commands, and you know it’s time you face your punishment.

You do as he says, the belt’s buckle shining from his hand exciting you. Slowly, you open your legs ever so slightly as you bend over the couch. There’s a glint in his eye as he walks towards you, pulling off his tank and tossing it to the floor. You bite your lip at the sight of his muscular build, he’s amazing, built like a God. You can’t wait to feel every inch of him that you can pounding into your now soaked core.

When he sits down, you whimper. It’s as though your entire body is tingling with arousal. His hand makes contact with the back of your thigh and it sends a chill down your spine. A smirk is evident as he notices the goosebumps forming on your soft {S/C} skin. He slides the fabric of your skirt over your ass with ease, letting his hand linger on it before pulling it away. He admires you like a kid who just wants to play with a new toy while its still in the box. Snapping the belt between his hands, he gives you no time to prepare before you feel an extreme stinging sensation on your backside.

“Oh, yeah..!” You blurt out, the stinging continuing five more times before he decides he can’t take your moaning anymore.

“You like it when daddy punishes you, sweetheart?” he coos mockingly, grabbing your shoulder and pushing your face against the back of the couch.

“Yes... God, yes,” you breathe as he unzips the back of your top. You shift to allow it to fall underneath you before resuming your position, and he reaches to grope one of your breasts as his lips meet the nape of your neck.

“Tell me how bad you want me,” he says, trailing rough bites from your shoulder and down your back slowly.

“I want you to fuck me as hard as you can,” you breathe. “Like the bad girl I am...”

“Mmm,” he groans, groping your ass now as he positions himself behind you, pulling your thong down to your knees and letting it fall around your heels.

“You are a beautiful sight..”

He slaps your ass, gripping onto it with fervor. Your back arches under his hand as he slides it up your back now.

“Don’t you wanna fuck me, Jared..?” you ask, a sultry tone lacing your words.

His hand comes down on your ass again, and he steps closer to you, allowing you to feel his warm cock against your slick entrance. Your body shudders as you try to push your sex back against him; trying anything to feel him slide into your velvety walls. Absolute desperation overwhelms your mind and body. He pulls back just the amount that you try move, and slaps your ass again.

“Do I?” he asks as he does so, more rhetorical than anything.

“Fuck..” You groan as you feel his fingers sliding over your wetness now. He runs them back and forth carefully, teasing you in the worst way. Your swollen clit can hardly handle the faintest touch as he rubs it in small circles. He slides his slender finger back over you and drags it down your thigh.

“Look at that.. So fucking wet.. What do we say...?” His tone is a breathy growl while he digs his fingers into either side of your hips now, dying to hear you beg. He can feel his own member throbbing as the head presses against your entrance, teasing not only you, but himself.

It’s painful almost, the way he touches you now. Your nerves are all shot, sensitively receptive to pleasure in everything he does to you. You need the ecstasy, and he needs to give it to you.

“Please, daddy.. Please, give me that cock, I want you to make me cum..”

“Oh princess,” he starts, grabbing your hands and holding them behind your back. He works at the belt, bounding your wrists together. “You don’t get to cum until I tell you to.”

With that, you feel his entire shaft pump into your dripping folds, kicking your leg open further with his foot. You can’t help but yell out in pleasure against the material of the couch at the sudden rush of satisfaction. His thrusting is slow and deep, letting you feel everything you've been craving since the moment he had you pinned to the couch.

Unable to move your hands, you bite into the material before you, continuing to moan into it as your breathing grows heavier. You rock your hips to meet his as much as you can, the sound of flesh clapping together and filling the spaces in between each and every groan. Jared snakes a hand over your shoulder, tangling his fingers in your {H/C} locks. He yanks your head back as his rhythm speeds up.

“You're such a good little girl for daddy, aren’t you? Taking this cock with no problem,” he groans.

You nod to the best of your ability and he breaks skin on your back with his nails now, dragging them back along your spine and ending it with a swift slap on the ass.

“Mm, yes, Sir..” You moan, “You fuck so good, daddy- harder...”

You didn’t need to tell him twice as his hand grabs your wrists, pulling you up closer to him. His toned chest is damp with the sweat he’d broken from teasing himself with you. He thrusts into you harder, hitting your g-spot with ease and bringing you close to tears at the pleasure he’s inflicting on you. His hand reaches around to grope your breasts, rolling your nipple between his fingers as the other remains tightly over your bound hands.

Your legs grow weak under the rest of your bod. His hard cock filling you is more than you can handle you while he holds you in place. In the sultriest of manners, he brings his hand from your breasts to your neck, squeezing it as he nibbles on your earlobe.

“Don’t you fucking cum without my permission, princess. You stay nice and fucking hot for daddy,” he growls into your ear, sending a sizzling heat through your center.

“Ooh, I... I don’t know how much longer I can hold out for you..” You say, your voice shaky as he continues thrusting, going even deeper than he had been before. The pressure on your sweet spot is indescribable, and the feeling welling up in you is dying to be released. Unable to keep quiet, your moans turn to small yells as you gasp for air.

He thoroughly enjoys the power trip, keeping you from doing the one thing you wanted in this situation- but he wants nothing more than for you to break the rules. Seeing you such a mess at the concept of himself inside of you is something he doesn’t want to end. His fingertips meet your pulsing clit now, every circular caress eliciting waves of pleasure through your groin. It isn’t until he presses down hard and lets himself go that you catch the brink of your own orgasm.

“Oh, fuck.. Faster!” You yelp, knowing you can’t keep your release away any longer as you feel your walls start pulsating fervently around his thick shaft in a sweet lustful euphoria. You lower yourself onto him as much as you can, carnal instinct taking over. This made taking his cock as deep and as hard as you could the only thing that mattered in your world. Going weak at the knees, Jared is the only thing keeping you upright as you ride out your orgasm.

He groans into your ear, his hand gripping onto your neck even tighter as he thrusts faster, losing himself in you as he spills into your entrance, the warm feeling you recognized spiking your fever once more.

“You’re daddy’s little slut, huh? Making me cum like this..” His breathing is as wild as the pumping he’s doing. His eyes roll back, and though you can’t see it, you know he’s wrapped up in the same bliss you are as he rasps your name like it’s the only thing he knows.

“Oh, Jared..” You groan as a few hard, deep movements follow, allowing you to once again savor every inch of him just as you wanted. Your mouth is slightly agape, and your hair is unruly over your face as you take pleasure in knowing you’ve satisfied him entirely.

A small gasp is all you can manage once he slows down and pulls out. Not wanting to look as spent as you feel, you take hold of the couch again, trying to gather yourself before sliding your skirt back over your thighs.

“I didn’t say I was done with you, baby girl,” you hear him say, your only reaction being to turn around with a blank expression as you zip your shirt back on.

“You came before I told you to,” a smirk plays on his lips now as he zips and buttons his pants back up. “You broke a very important rule. And if I didn’t have to get on set for a read through, I’d punish you all over again right now.”

He’s a sight to see as you let yourself truly look at him. The post-coital glow he’s got makes him look even more like a God, and seeing him so disheveled only makes you want him all over again as your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“I couldn’t help it, Mr. Leto,” you say again, poking fun at your prior professionalism. “You didn’t bother making it very easy for me.”

He steps in front of you, his closeness providing you with a sense of safety now while his own eyes behold you in all your beauty; how perfect you still look though he’s happily ruined your makeup and wrinkled your clothes. You give an innocent smirk, handing over your still damp thong at the end of your fingertip to him. He takes your panties and smirks quickly before you’re met with another harsh touch- his fingers on either side of your jaw. It’s not nearly as rough as he’d just handled you, but just as full of desire. His lips meet yours with the same urgency, kissing you so completely and relentlessly that it takes your breath away.

Your eyes flutter open slowly after he breaks the kiss. A smile graces your features while the tips of your {F/C} nails brush against your own lips. He replaces them with his own thumb, dragging it down your lower lip almost carefully now, shoving your underwear into his pocket.

“Just wait till I get my hands on you again, {Y/N}.”

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omgxiaoch · 7 years ago

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Monsta X reaction to their s/o being hit by a car when they were on their way to bring them lunch

requested by anon~

masterlist

Shownu; Shownu was ecstatic to have you bring him and the boys lunch while they practiced for their upcoming comeback. All of them were busy practicing when his phone suddenly rang, which he immediately answered but was only devastated when he heard a man’s voice on the other line, telling him that you are currently being brought to the hospital because you got hit by a car just a street before their building. He would be blank for quite some time before Kihyun knocks him back to his senses, dragging everyone out of the room and into the van, having their manager bringing to the hospital. But on their way to the hospital, Shownu wouldn’t be able to hide the fact that he felt bad and scared at the same time. Bad for having you to bring them lunch and scared to lose you. When the doctor asked for any relatives, Shownu’s hand would be pulled up by the members since he’s too preoccupied with his thoughts to hear what the doctor said.

“May I ask if there’s anyone here who’s related to the patient? *looks at boys with hopeful eyes*”

“H-he is! *Changkyun lifts Shownu’s hands up while Jooheon shakes Shownu, bringing him back to his senses*”

“I-I am... s-so... is she alright, doc? *stands up and blinks at the doctor, trying to fight back the nervousness building up inside of him*:

Wonho; It happened so fast. Wonho was waiting outside their building when he saw a glimpse of you, waving at him with a big smile. However, the smiles will be gone when a car hit you, having all the lunch boxes spilled on the concrete ground. Wonho would be shocked at first but he would immediately dash towards you and would try to calm himself down but he wouldn’t be able, since he’d be pushing the driver away and yelling him to call the ambulance while he pulls you into his arms, hands shaking as he tells you that help was coming and that you’ll be alright, just don’t close your eyes on him. He’d continue to silence you when you tried to talk to him and despite being hit by a car, you are still able to wipe away the tears that are streaming down his cheeks, his swollen lips quivering. By the minute the ambulance arrived, he would hand you over to the paramedics and would go with you but before anything, he’d get the driver’s number and deal with him later. He’d always be by your side despite having to wait a couple of hours and would also reassure the boys that you’ll be fine but he’d greatly appreciate it if they visited.

“Get away from her!! Why don’t you just call the ambulance rather than standing there huh?! *kneels down and pulls you towards him* y-yah, [y/n], help’s c-coming... you’re o-okay, just d-don’t close your eyes on me. *pushes the strands of hair away from your face but only tears up when you smiled at him*”

“*wipes away the tears away from his face* Don’t cry, baby, I’ll be alright, okay? *only to be shushed by Wonho’s croaking voice, telling you to not talk*”

Minhyuk; Minhyuk would be outraged the minute one of the staffs came huffing and puffing into their studio, almost shouting that you’ve been hit by a car and that the driver was being tackled by one of your close oppa (the security) on the ground because they were trying to escape. Minhyuk would immediately run out of the room before the staff could even finish and once he arrives at the place of accident, he would push himself through the crowd and he could feel the color of his face drain when he saw the pool of blood on the concrete ground. He wouldn’t think twice and carefully wrap you in his arms, eyes tearing up and lips not being able to let out a word. His hands would shaking as he caresses your cheeks, head shaking as he sees you smiling at him. He would try his best to not let you speak but uttering a single word was too hard for him, he just couldn’t bear the pain of seeing you like this. The moment the ambulance came, he would be thankful, begging them to save you and there wouldn’t be a second that he won’t be by your side, praying to the heavens above to save you and let you live.

“*sobbing while he tries to push away the strands of hair away from your face* ...... hick... *shakes his head when he sees you smiling at him, hands reaching up to his cheeks*”

“Baby.... I’ll be alright... d-don’t cry... *wipes away his tears but only to have your hand held in his*”

“*frivolously shaking his head as he tries to utter a word but is unable to let out as his throat tightens from the rush of emotions*”

Kihyun; He was patiently waiting for you at the lobby, hand tightly wrapped around a hot choco for you to drink once you arrived. As he was busy scrolling through his twitter, the sound of a car screeching and hitting something had him looking up, only to be horrified when he saw a familiar coat being soaked with blood. He’d be dashing out of the building, throwing away the damned cup away as he grabs the driver by the collar, asking him if he was blind or something but would just let go off him when he was told that he was going to call the ambulance. He wouldn’t know what to do, his eyes would be trailing all over your listless body. He would hold onto your hand and would try to shake you lightly but when he received no response, he wouldn’t think twice but to let out a shout, as he was starting to blame himself and would start being angry at himself, hot tears spilling out his eyes as he shakily wipes the blood off your face but once the ambulance arrives, he’d hurry them up and beg them to save you.

“*hears the sound of car screeching and something being hit, only to be horrified when he saw that it was you* [y-y/n]!!! *dashes out of the lobby and grabs the driver’s collar out of anger* What the actual fck?! Are you freaking blind or something?!”

“I-I... I’m sorry!! I-I’m gonna go call the ambulance-- ooff!! *Kihyun let’s go of his collar*”

“*looks at you and kneels, eyes trailing all over your body, eyes starting to glisten with tears* [y-y/n].... *shakily takes a hold of your hand and shakes you lightly* Y-yah....”

Hyungwon; The room was pretty loud especially when you were coming over to bring them lunch. All of them were all smile but when Hyungwon’s phone rang, it was Changkyun who answered but only to have him look at Hyungwon with his face turning pale, ending the call. When asked what was wrong, Hyungwon’s smile would be gone when he was told that you got hit by a car and is currently now at the E.R. E.R? You? My girlfriend got hit by a car? Those are the thoughts that would run through his mind while he stares at them blankly, only to be yanked by everyone. He would be dragged to the van and would have the boys looking at him with worry all over their faces. It was too much for him to comprehend but by the minute it finally sink into him, he’d be restless that it requires everyone to take a hold of him before he pounces on the driver who was being held by the kind soul who called the ambulance. But the whole room will be filled with silence when the doctor came out and talked to Hyungwon about what happened, only to have the boys assist him when he almost lost his balance.

“Who was that, Changkyun? *everyone’s eyes on Changkyun who looked pale*”

“[y/n].... g-got hit by a c-car and now she’s.... s-she’s in the E.R *finally blinks as he looks at Hyungwon who just looked at him with lips slightly parted, eyes barely blinking as his mind starts to process what he just said*”

Jooheon; He was in the middle of recording with the boys when Shownu pulled him out of the room, totally bewildered by the older one’s actions but once he was seated in the van he’d curiously ask what was wrong and when he was asked if he didn’t receive the message, he’d shake his said and only to be silenced when they told him that the cab that you were riding got hit by a car and what’s more dreadful was the cab was hit on your side, which means that you had more of the damage. Jooheon would be dizzy and lightheaded, heart sinking at such news. He wouldn’t be able to speak up as he’d just stare at his hyungs, only to be brought into a tight hug when he starts to break down, fear and anxiety slowly kicking in as terrible thoughts clouded his mind. But by the minute the van arrives at the hospital, he would hesitate to go and wait at the emergency room since he feels his knees go weak, only to be encouraged and reassured by the boys that they’d be there with him. He’d patiently wait and throughout the long wait, he’d just burst out crying while he prays to God to save you.

“*starts to break down, tears spilling out and he feels like his body’s gonna give out any moment now* [y-y/n].... sob sob sob.”

“*Minhyuk pulls him into a tight hug, whispering a couple of words of comfort while Wonho rubs his back* Y-yah, [y-y/n]’s going to be alright, h-hey... don’t cry...*

I.M; The minute he steps out of the room, he would be surprised when he sees one of the staffs running up to him and just pulling him towards the lobby, only to have his heart sink when he sees you being placed on the stretcher by the paramedics. Changkyun wouldn’t think twice but to run out of the building and get on that damned ambulance, telling the paramedics that he’s your boyfriend. He wouldn’t be able to think straight since his whole attention was on you, only you. He would be holding tightly on your hand as he watches the paramedics do their thing, eyes filled with hope. His voice may sound calm but deep inside he’d be breaking. He would be begging them to hurry up a bit and save you but when the ambulance comes to a stop from the sudden red light, he’d be cursing under his breath as he tries to pray to just have you brought to the hospital right away since he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. But once he feels like he’s lost all the patience, he would somewhat explode, only to be calmed down by the paramedics.

“L-let me in!! I’m her boyfriend, goddammit!! *pushes himself through the crowd and into the ambulance, and heaves out a sigh when he was finally by your side* [y/n], please hang in there.... *holds your hand and watches the paramedics start doing their thing* P-please... do everything to save her..... Please..”

“Don’t worry, sir, she’ll be alright.”

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invinciblerodent · 8 years ago

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Tbh I'm reaching a point where I'm like, fuck the bioware fandom. They adore characters like Solas and Jaal but treat Liam and Vivienne like shit. Cora also gets a bunch of needless hate. They call Blackwall a rapist, which (as an assault victim) I find trivializing. Treat Sebastian Vale like a religious fanatic who wants to burn Hawke at the stake for being a mage. It's like they can't view anything in layers and if they don't like a character they will invent reasons to hate them.

Well, I’m not so sure about speaking in such general terms, but without a doubt, it is a difficult line on which most BioWare characters are dancing.

If you’ll excuse me for a second, I’m going to get real preachy with you for a second. Please, just bear with me on this one. I’m not going to promise that there is gonna be a point, but if you don’t mind, I’m going to rant at you for a minute. :)

When one is creating any sort of media product intended for large audiences (such as a big budget, AAA video game such as Andromeda or Inquisition), simplicity and complexity are... pretty heavily weighed against each other.

I’m gonna try to explain that.

Since there is the obvious analogy about a proverbial chain being only as strong as its weakest link, most things designed for wide appeal tend to be simple, they tend to stick to convention, they tend to make use of one’s confirmation bias, and not require one to put their aforementioned English Major/English Class hats on, or stepping outside of one’s comfort zone.

And many studios and developers still think of their audience, of that “one”, as a homogeneous mass of 13-25 year old, straight, white guys. This sounds a bit like the anti-millenial bullshit old journalists tend to spew in their impotent hatred towards anyone younger than them, but.... as much as this hurts to admit, there is a kernel of truth in that contemporary media, especially video games, are still very often treated as frivolous, simple entertainment, even by their own audience. (Hence, “it’s just a game” arguments.)

On the other hand, we on tumblr -myself included- tend to have a real boner for analyzing every single line, every syllable of every word uttered in our entertainment. Not only do we have our English Major hats, but also Social- and Media Studies hats, we become a bunch of part-time literary analysts (which I think is SO COOL), and try to look into the media we consume.... potentially (or most likely) deeper than many developers and studios intend.

The thing about BioWare is that... there are very few people who bother to think about the games they produce and consume both as products of contemporary entertainment media, and art. As a piece of literature. As something to analyze and criticize without denying its merits completely.

There are few who stop to think about Blackwall’s obvious 10+ year struggle with immense guilt, self-loathing, and obvious depression which made him believe himself unworthy of friendly- or romantic affection. (Btw, I’m so sorry you were made to feel that way. You definitely did not deserve any of that, and frankly, I don’t even understand where that claim came from? This is a digression, but seriously, someone please point me to an instance in which Blackwall doesn’t ask, and then wait diligently for explicit permission, initiation for, or enthusiastic participation in any physical contact. I’ll wait.)

There are few who stop to consider that when he makes the Big Controversial Claim, Sebastian’s home of god knows how long had just gone up in flames in front of his very eyes, consuming the woman who was a mother in place of his own in a flame of -in his eyes- self-righteous fury.

There are few who stop to think about Vivienne long enough to see just how gentle and caring a soul she is, if only you bother to show her that you are deserving of her kindness, and that you aren’t holding a dagger behind your back, just waiting for her to turn around and let her guard down.

These characters are very nuanced, they are written with so much care by people who Know Their Shit, and I feel even their hearts must bleed when they see what oversimplified, generalized opinions make of their darlings.

Because it is human nature for us to seek what is simple and convenient, especially in our entertainment. It is human to seek what is black and white, and for us to look at shades of grey, and push it one way or the other depending on our preconceived notions. It’s just how our brains look to eliminate uncertainty.

Which is, of course, an explanation, and not an excuse.

I know it’s disheartening. I definitely understand that, and I know it is so much easier to just not bother to write thinkpieces, to think deeply about stories, and just in general participate. I wouldn’t want anyone to do anything in their free time that they find exhausting or annoying. I get it. But I implore you, and everyone reading this, to not give up.

How else am I supposed to rain my long and ranty pieces on just how amazingly strong and sweet Sera is and how hard she is trying to understand things that had been denied her, is or just how much I appreciated that Liam was allowed to be angry without him devolving into a gross stereotype.

And for real fuck Solas tho. Jaal is a sweetheart and I don’t want to drag him into this because he is a character with his own merits, wouldn’t even mention him on the same day as Solas if I could help it because I think they have absolutely zero things in common, but, y’know, fuck Solas.

#at first I wrote BiWare instead of BioWare #oh I just wish #personal #in which Mom gets preachy on you about modern media #while eyeing a stack of uni readings on an adjacent topic #I'm supposed to be studying for a network communication exam rn #seems like that might not be happening tonight after all huh :)#Anonymous

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srbachchan · 8 years ago

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DAY 3254

Jalsa, Mumbai Feb 24/25, 2017 Fri/Sat 12:50 am

Ef Sheetal Bahl, Birthday : our love and wishes for the Ef that goes by the name of Sheetal .. have a lovely day .. !!

You wait with longing for the night to evolve and to master those pictures that tell a tale of the day activities .. they arrive suddenly, they are treated with great respect, nurtured, selected and topic coated so to be able to make a presentation that is worthy of their presence .. to be able to guide the Ef into the world we are in .. and to be able to put to text a semblance of description ..

All .. irrespective of time and place and circumstance ...

All for the joy of connection .. a connection that has now lasted three thousand two hundred and fifty four days ..

The pictures are as they are in the best form possible .. but of late there is a keen drive to color, to art work them, to pillory them through various complicated Apps., that convert, design, give credence to the mind of the manufacturer .. and to put them out for the owner to signature their effort .. to be seen and recognised and to be dragged on to the media outlet known now commonly as the social media .. if at all it can be called social ..!!

Some that have interest in me .. are pulled away and used as a presence either in other mediums or retweeted for greater volume of like .. when such act comes to life, there is recognition and appreciation from the maker .. some when it does not attract attention, are in anger and complaint .. the efforts not failing in any respect ..

They are all beautiful and my appreciation of them may not give all a personal acknowledgment, but there is assurance that they have been seen and liked and shared if not here then elsewhere ..

NO .. that is NOT an invitation to call me or any other .. its a moment of frivolous, over exertion hyperventilation, without any purpose ..

My mobile is known now to all .. it is a part of the internet and therefore accessible to any and every .. fine .. but it does not become humanly possible to respond or acknowledge all .. this is a physical manual problem .. not one from the heart ..

When you look around the work place of today’s times at the studio, or during film shootings, the sheer number of people involved in the work is quite phenomenal .. they all do the same work as during our times, but the ethic is different .. communications are now not linked to the voice .. they be stuck with ear pieces of walkie talkie invention .. one to be talked to, could be a few inches away at times, but they get on to the mike and the ear phone still ..

The number of people that are deployed for even the minutest of jobwork, is large .. what could be done by one is now represented by ten !

No objection to that at all .. greater employment, more hands to assist, and even greater minds to pass verdict on .. simple .. progressive, yet at times too cumbersome ..

The work that could have been immediately attended to personally, is deputed to another because it has been designed so .. no harm .. but time consuming ..

SO you are up by 7, to work up the body from its malaise and lethargy, and within minutes at dubbing theatre at YRF, followed by the shoot in the same studio soon after .. arrive before time, leave before time ..

DONE .. today was such ..

So shoot initiated, after an angle, rush to still shoot as they set up for next camera profile .. rush through still shoot till the shot is ready, back to the floor .. and then a cycle of such movements over a rapid period of time .. then interviews for the ‘making’ , some other tie ups with other media and their bytes and speaks .. a million ‘selfies’ and swiftly back into the confines of your SUV and home ...

Coffee ... !!??

I have left it but you need not ... so love ..

The Honourable President of India, Shri Pranab Mukherji, watches our film ‘PINK” tomorrow in Delhi, at his residence, the Rashtrapati Bhavan .. and so there shall be travel .. just for a few hours .. he has always been most generous with his time and desire to accommodate the creative elements of cinema, and we cannot thank him enough for it ..

Buses, bus stops walls and other regions of banner, carry these advertisements for the prevention of TB and Hepatitis, a campaign that I have involved myself in .. the severity of the campaigns is large and needs address .. and there is hope much like the campaign for Polio and its riddance from the country, that these shall also bear fruit ..

The medium of campaign carriers has increased to such immense proportions .. a word here a word there, a selfie and done .. in nano seconds it has reached the very intricate corners of Timbuktu .. these are the benefits of the discovery .. there is the flip side too .. of litigation severity and easy access to the desire to do so .. objections to words, acts deeds, spoken word, the very symbolism of those 60 seconds on Tv, has opened the gates for PIL’s and legal notices ..

Everyone needs a voice that is reached or delivered in a manner that would in normal circumstances not be reached .. but it does now and with such speed, that content creation has taken an automotive level .. content of any kind sells .. stepping out of the home, in to airport, out of airport, in to a restaurant out of it .. who with where and how why ? and dress .. style and sense of combinations in wardrobes, what worn when entering the airport and when not .. the list is endless ..

The most occupational hazard is the ‘selfie’ .. no satisfaction with a normal photograph .. no sireee .. it has to be the self in the end come what may .. the penchant for documentation and snaps has now reached a proportion when we can say with a certain amount of pride that, all that has transpired in the last some years is in safe custody with some mobile owners ..!!!

May the Lord bless all that do so ..

But a small request - can you not, dear media, block the path of the car for that photograph of the celebrity inside arriving at or going to somewhere ..?? PLEASE ..

It is a dangerous hazard and there has to be some semblance of civility in conduct .. thank you ..

Amitabh Bachchan

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