#edward speed debacle

[therealvinelle]

omg I just stumbled across your blog—so impressive!! I have a lot of reading ahead of me

Knock yourself out!

[goldeneyedgirl]

TwiFicmas23 Day 12: Jar of Hearts (All or Nothing)

Happy Christmas Eve!

Today, despite my best-laid plans, is a section from Jar of Hearts as a preview for the upcoming chapter. Yes, it should be the whole chapter, but recent developments have had me contemplating things and making some adjustments to how JoH ends; plus this chapter might need some scenes from Seth and Alice to mix things up. I'm undecided.

Honestly, it was either a JoH snippet or some deleted VS scenes tonight, and Anon made the decision for me ;)

So I hope you enjoy this - another year of Ficmas over, and I have no idea how we made it this far! Happy Holidays everyone!

eight. all or nothing

The truth is that Emmett never saw any kind of war.

He was born right before America joined World War One and was a vampire before World War Two. There had been the shadow of the Great War over his childhood, from what he remembered, but it had always been something tucked away to the side. It hadn’t touched his family specifically; they had been simple people, focused on working hard, putting food on their table, and keeping a roof over their heads.

And then he was gone before World War Two was a worry his parents would talk about in hushed voices (that memory is solid; the hum of his parents’ voices in the next room talking over the big things, the scary things that might actually come for the McCarty boys, as he drifted off to sleep next to his brothers.)

It was one of the few things that he had in common with Carlisle - and even then, Carlisle had seen battles as a medic. Edward had been dazzled by the glamour of World War One before his death, and Jasper… well, it was Jasper. His brother had been fighting one war or another his entire life - and death. 

The closest Emmett ever come to war? That had been the debacle with Victoria. And he wasn’t so arrogant that he believed that it came anywhere near what an actual war was. He remembers the news stories through World War 2, through Korea and Vietnam. He remembers seeing Carlisle’s grim expression, watching Jasper leave the room before the remote landed on the couch next to him, before the news pages settled. He’s never envied his brother his role on the front lines, never really examined how that missing piece separates him from his brothers and Carlisle. It was just one of those things that weren’t part of his human life, and that couldn’t ever really be recaptured.

But this…

This is a war. This is being right in the middle of the trenches with fucking lizard people and aliens charging at him with no sense of self-preservation.  This is not knowing if the movement behind him is friend or foe or someone dying in the mud. This is having foreign blood dry wet and ice cold against his face and sometimes it smells good and other times it smells like rot and death; in not being able to see Alice or Seth in the blur of bodies and movement.

It’s watching a woman in a leather jacket beat the ever loving shit out of an alien for crushing her flask underfoot, and a broad black guy take a bone-shattering punch to the jaw and not even flinch. It’s realising that this is not the time to pull punches or worry about hiding what he is - these people are like them. It’s a weird feeling made weirder by how isolated the last five years have been.

(It’s killing the first alien in two moves and not feeling anything except disgust and impatience because this battle is the only thing standing between him and Rose.) 

//

It feels wrong to admit it, but it’s fucking exhilarating to throw a punch and shatter these monster-alien things. To not hold anything back, to move exactly how he was designed to. More than one hero is caught unaware by his speed; he saves two Wakandan warriors simply by being faster than they are - a crude but effective solution. 

//

It’s hard enough to get across the mud-slick the battlefield has become without running into another alien, another fighter. He hardly recognises half of these people, but more than one he saves from a killing blow - a big-eyed alien girl whose face lights up as he snaps the spine of the alien looming over her. She reminds him of Alice, when she first arrived back in the 50s. But he doesn’t pause, his eyes sliding over the battlefield looking for Alice or Seth, and mentally cursing himself out for not realising that all-black outfits would not be helpful in a battle situation. He should have insisted on reflective racing stripes or something. 

Next time.

(Wait, no. There would never be a next time, a need for fighting ensembles and funny little vests for Seth with reflective panels because they would never find themselves in a fight like this again. That was a promise he was making to himself - for himself.)

And that’s when he finally spots Seth, mud-slicked but alive. 

“No, no, no,” he’s already moving when understands what he’s seeing. wolf Seth, who is no small opponent (last summer, when they’d been bored… well, the short story is that in his wolf-form, Seth weighed double of what Alice did) - is somehow tangling with three aliens, with Thanos looming behind like the shadow of death, his eyes firmly on Seth.

There was no fucking way that the giant purple asshole was laying one goddamn hand on Seth whilst Emmett still had venom in his veins and his head. 

He sees Alice lunging across the battlefield from the opposite direction, her eyes focused fully on the potentially disastrous scene before them. 

“HE’S A FUCKING KID,” Emmett hollers pointlessly, but Seth surprises both him and Alice as he takes the arm clean off an alien, the limb cracking into pieces under the force of Seth’s jaws, before darting with a swiftness that wasn’t expected heading towards Alice before Thanos could move against him. And Alice is there, giving Seth cover to run into the crowd, Thanos giving her a dark look. 

“Watch out, man!” someone yells from above, and he looks up but makes the mistake. A snake-like alien strikes, a blow that shakes him to his bones and before he can use his momentum against the monster, he’s hauled across the battle field to land flat on his back in the mud, his left arm torn off and venom pouring from the wound. The pain is sharp and alive as he reorientates himself - it’s been decades since he lost anything more significant than a finger, and it always makes his head spin (he has no idea how Jasper managed to survive entire campaigns in the south, because he can’t even sit up). 

The alien is laughing at him, mocking him, as his broken arm is discarded in a pile of rubble (still twitching, ugh. No matter how many times he does loose fingers, toes, entire limbs, the twitching never stops being messed up). Thanos smirks but has already turned away from them, to venture deeper into the battlefield. 

Leave Alice and Seth alone. Fuck, Alice, keep Seth out of trouble, please. 

Two horrified superheroes that he doesn’t recognise are staring at him in complete horror, probably expecting him to bleed out - this should be a death sentence, and there’s no way to do triage in this mess. He’s seen a lot of bodies on their side drop in the mud with wounds that could be treated in any other circumstance, but here and now, they get to die in the mud because no one has the time or the supplies or the place to save them. The entire world outweighs saving one bleeding warrior. It’s unfair, but it’s how this has to happen. 

He’s oddly pissed off about the arm, honestly - it fucking hurts. He’d been less mad about the time that Peter took his right leg, honestly. This felt like a matter of honour. 

“Pay attention Emmett!” Alice says as she tears past - her jacket is long gone, and her arms are luminous white in the dull light - and offering no help; she’s clearly got a target in mind as she ducks and weaves out of sight. He scowls at her departing back as he scrambles back to his feet, eyes locked on the alien. 

“Nice move,” he says conversationally as he approaches the alien, who is beyond irritated he’s still moving. “Unluckily for you, this isn’t my first rodeo.”

(Jasper would be proud, he likes to think. Will be proud. More than sixty years of wrestling, play-fighting, and training, and he’s ready. This might not be the Southern Wars - down in Monterrey, they don’t go down as easy as these hydrostatic skeleton bug aliens - but Emmett was trained by the goddamn best.)

It takes three moves - punch, trip, stomp - to have the alien crushed at his feet, eyes dull and dead, and he has to stop himself from shredding the corpse  to burn out of habit. It’s an efficient kill, and then he’s moving quickly towards his discarded arm - ugh, still twitching. 

“Hey, you need to sit down, we’ll get you out of here.”

The man in front of him isn’t recognisable at first. Shaggy brown hair hangs in his face, and he’s swathed in Kevlar. It’s the arm, the once-silver left arm that allows Emmett to identity the man - Bucky Barnes. Cap’s best friend. The legendary marksman. 

“It looks worse than it is, Sergeant Barnes,” Emmett manages as he reaches out for his broken arm. “Just need it to reconnect fast.”

Sergeant Barnes isn’t expecting Emmett to be lucid, or for his arm to line up roughly in the joint; he covers Emmett’s back for the precious moments it takes for his body to recognise and reattach the join sending a shower of warmth and sparks down to his fingers. 

“Fuck, I hate that feeling,” Emmett mutters, flexing his fingers. 

//

Alice is with the Scarlet Witch, and that oddly makes him tense up in worry. But the Witch has Thanos trapped good, so he shouldn’t worry. Just keep taking out aliens, just keep everyone busy whilst smarter people deal with the goddamn glove. 

Alice looks positively hateful in that moment, glaring at Thanos as the Witch restrains him and maybe... maybe they've got him...

And then the Witch and Alice go flying as the world churns up in fire and smoke and Emmett needs to know his sister is okay.

[keepingthepeaks]

I need help understanding a couple things about the Ed/Stede breakup debacle.

Before Gentlebeard get going Izzy describes Ed as an “insane, unpleasant shell of a man”, and Ed gives suicidal vibes suggesting maybe he should try dying since he’d never done it before. So I get he was already self-hating and spring loaded to spin out. That’s where we started.

Then Stede sparked joy for him and retirement started looking like an actual option (even if it was court ordered). And, hey, maybe life’s worth living again. Then, as far as Ed knows, the guy he paid to get Stede didn’t (where did he go? Bribed by Badminton? Killed by Badminton???), a body dropped in the woods, and Stede never made it to the dock. I get that Ed might have such low self esteem that his first thought would be Stede abandoned him. But wouldn’t he still want to kill the guy who was supposed to deliver his true love to him? Wouldn’t he have found out about the dead Badminton (probably being blamed for doing it)? Wouldn’t he have wanted to know what the hell happened to the only thing that made him want to wake up in the morning??!

He knows his boo to be a chaotic idiot who is a danger to himself and others. If Stede were my Baby, I’d worry, even if I thought he’d ghosted me, and probably stalk him a little (let’s be real). But Blackbeard didn’t even try to find his polite menace… Or maybe he heard Stede had turned up back home? If so, he also would have heard he’d died under extremely suspicious circumstances (survived jaguar, only to be run over and have a piano dropped on him by people paid to hold it just there). And as a result his entire fortune was transferred to his widow. Who had already taken a lover.

The whole thing STINKS of maybe kidnapping, perhaps attempted blackmail of the “widow” Bonnet, and probably murder for inheritance. We accept the whole, Stede stood Ed up thing, because we saw him do it, but Edward didn’t, and if he heard anything at all, he’d hear Stede was dead.

Even if we assume Ed accepted Stede’s “death” as accidental, is he to big a person for a bereaved jealous rage? One of the first things he said to Stede was “Who’s this Mary?” While Stede was whimpering about pretending to be a pirate. “The one you left me for? Or the one who killed you? Or just the one who made you feel inadequate that one time?”

I’m thinking Mary would be in mortal peril, you know, until with Blackbeard’s knife at her throat she screamed “Please! He’s alive!! Please don’t kill me! Stede’s not dead! He just wanted to fake his death so he could be with his lover… Some guy called Ed!!! I think he’s a pirate… Please! Please!! Find Ed!!! You’ll see! Stede’s alive!” And then he’d put away his knives, and start planning a cheeky surprise reunion in the Republic of Pirates ;)

OR, if Ed didn’t even try to find out what happened to Stede, then neither Izzy nor Stede were responsible actually responsible for his subsequent spiral. Stede was just a brief detour off the highway to hell that Blackbeard was speeding down when we met him.

Or did I miss something important?

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Another proof of Edward speed debacle: at the baseball game Edward said there was no time to take Bella away and he would've refused for anyone else to take her because he thinks he is the fastest and he wouldn't believe the truth even if it came out then and they would just waste time, but if he really was one of the fastest vampires then why would he be unable to take her far away enough? Specially when Jasper could've used his power to distract the nomads.

Anon supports the speed debacle. I like it.

[effervescent-hoe]

um. i may be stupid, but. what's the edward speed debacle?

Im glad you asked! It started with @therealvinelle post here which is pretty long, so let me summarize!

Edward died wasting away of the spanish flu, which affected his physique as a vampire. At first he was faster than Carlisle, but newborn speed faded, and Carlisle decided to slow down to let Edward have one good thing. this white lie then spiralled out of control as the family grew, with more people keeping the secret, and now it's too late to go back. Carlisle is stuck lying about this for the rest of eternity and its so hilarious to me. bc of course he would! he wants his family to be happy.

[therealvinelle]

Dutifully reblogging this while questioning every decision I made in my life that led to me spearheading a speed debate on Twilight tumblr.

carlisle isn't statistically the slowest, but he Chooses to be afghjkl

im guessing this is in response to @therealvinelle 's speed debate (which im living for btw) but yeah ur so right anon thank you. Being the slowest has perks: he's protective of his family so he likes to be able to keep an eye on them all when he's behind. Also the scenery is pretty, Carlisle is an easygoing guy who likes to stop and smell the roses. As well as keeping up the illusion for Edward that he's the fastest lol, Carlisle happily brings up the rear of the fam and good for him.

Altho i also think it depends on terrain. On flat land, or even climbing cliff face, Carlisle being as strong as he is would prolly be at least one of the fastest (i guess Emmett would have an advantage on cliff face?). But i do think his speed does get eclipsed by Esme or Rose (maybe Alice if she's trying really hard to propel her lil limbs) in like dense forests. Just from my own experience, being smaller gives you a fat agility advantage when it comes to weaving between obstacles like trees but also im not a physical trainer like that one cool anon so take my reasoning w a pinch of i-dont-know-what-im-talking-about

[volterran-wine]

You’ve said it simply wouldn’t make sense for the Volturi not to have known about hybrids and worked hard to prevent even their own kind from hearing about them a few months back.

If they cared so much and actively played a part in spreading fake news about vampires to humans, then what were their reactions to dhampirs in fiction?

Couldn’t a vampire have picked up a book and gone “you know what, I really wonder if…”

• — 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐲𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐬

Well, I do believe there was a collective sigh heard through out the palazzo when this was discovered. Because Hybrids really should not be commonplace in the world we live in. However...

Most vampires are quite aware of their species limitations, women cannot get pregnant, they are essentially dead people walking; and it should not be possible for children to be created. It is not a farfetched thought in my opinion to assume most vampires simple accept it as a fact that they cannot physically have children. It is not in their nature to desire humans unless they are a mate, and then they usually wish to simply turn them as quickly as possible. 

They have accepted that the idea of a child is beyond them now, and that is it. This did of course change somewhat after The Renesmee Debacle, some vampires would certainly have wondered if they could father children for them and their mate to dote on... of course this would mean the death of an innocent human woman, or risk the life of a mate. 

With all that being said, I also believe that successful Hybrid pregnancies/births are rare. Because most vampires have no desire to control themselves around a human, that also means humans have a tendency to pass on during intimacy in the first place. And if they do end up pregnant, the baby would in theory claw itself out of its mothers stomach in most cases; not everyone has a Carlisle Cullen on speed dial. And if the child is born, I can imagine that the mother will be perplexed, go to a hospital, if her baby has not bit into her flesh that is, and then we will have a massive breach of the secret to deal with. Depending on where this mother is the child may just be abandoned as well, it is after all something quite unsettling to go through. In the case of a birth I would hope that the vampiric father would either steal the child or turn the mother as soon as possible.

The ramifications of a hybrid birth are unimaginable. You need someone like Johham who is the equivalent of a mad vampire scientist, or someone like Edward who is... quite unusual in his tastes in order for a successful hybrid pregnancy.

I honestly do not think The Volturi has had to deal with many hybrids simply because its such a dangerous situation for the mother and the child in the first place. But after the unfortunate event with The Cullens, I would believe they have to cover up more cases of pregnancies gone wrong these days.

[olicitytropes]

Olicity Tropetastic Awards: Other Inspirations

One of the coolest, and most popular, things about fanfic is that you don’t have to stick to canon for inspiration. We can plop our favorite characters into almost any situation using the books, movies, and tv shows we love. Call it an alternate universe, call it a crossover, call it awesome. Our love for Arrow and for Olicity brought us together, but here are some writers who used other sources to give us the best of both worlds! 

@allimariexf’s recs:

Gotta Be Compatible - theshipsfirstmate

Magic Mike AU.

Felicity and the girls go to a strip club in Metropolis for Caitlin's bachelorette party.

**Award: Best Lost-Boy Oliver and Playing-It-Safe Felicity (who find themselves in each other!)**

Breaking All The Rules - griever11

Five letters that were never meant to be sent, two ex-friends who soon rediscover their friendship, and one fake relationship that honestly, isn't really fake at all.

Or, you can't really pretend to be dating each other when what you really want is to be really dating each other.

An Olicity AU, loosely based on To All the Boys I've Loved Before.

**Award: The Longest Mutual Pine Award**

Someone Else’s Sky - punchdrunkdoc

Oliver Queen, the Starling City Vigilante, moves out of his family home into a small apartment.

But he has an unexpected roommate.

A 'Just Like Heaven' AU

**Award: Most Brilliant and Beautiful Season 1 “What-If” (also known as: THIS FIC MADE ME CRY REAL TEARS and FEEL ALL THE THINGS)**

Baby Daddy - moreorLessJess

Bartender Oliver Queen was living his twenties to the fullest, he lived with his best friend John Diggle, and his brother in everything but blood, Tommy Merlyn just moved in to their apartment as he started his professional baseball career for the Starling City Rockets. On top of that, his childhood best friend Felicity Smoak, who was no longer goth and instead blonde and beautiful, was back in town and they were hanging out again.

Oliver thought his days were going to be filled with partying, one night stands, and boys weekends while also spending quality time with the girl everyone kept telling him he was in love with.

Until his ex girlfriend dropped a baby on his doorstep who turned out to be his son.

After a lot of thought and Felicity Smoak peptalks, Oliver decides to keep and raise his son with the help of his friends.

Or the Freeform sitcom Baby Daddy AU that no one asked for but I needed to write. Aka Oliver and Felicity are childhood friends and are hopelessly in love with eachother and everyone knows but them, oh and now they're raising a baby.

What could go wrong?

**Award: Fluffiest Childhood Friends Trope**

Absolutely, Probably - theshipsfirstmate

Oliver tells his ten-year-old daughter a story about the loves of his life.

RomCom AU based on the Ryan Reynolds movie "Definitely, Maybe" for the Arrow Summer Movie AU Challenge.

**Award: Most Achingly Beautiful Delayed-Happily-Ever-After**

The time to make up your mind about people (is never) - nashtag

Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak had a whirlwind Vegas romance—and a tornado of a divorce a year later. Two years after that, Oliver is about to marry his old flame, Laurel Lance. But when his father is caught cheating with another executive, he must let two journalists cover his wedding to preserve the family name.

Philadelphia Story/Arrow AU, with a dash of Flash crossover.

**Award: Most Heart-wrenching But Hopeful Second Chance at True Love (with a happy ending, of course)**

@tangled23works’ recs:

The Governess - @laurabelle2930

Felicity Smoak is a 22 year old Governess for the newly orphaned Thea Meryln. Thea's caregiver is the mysterious lord of Thornfield manor Oliver Queen. Based on the amazing novel by Charlotte Bronte "Jane Eyre" inspired this prompt from @lalawo1

**Award: Best Affectionate Bickering**

Welcome to the Party - @bushlaboo

Die Hard inspired AU – Oliver Queen, an SCPD officer, tries to save his wife, Felicity Smoak, and several others, taken hostage by terrorist Edward Fyers during a Christmas party at Nakatomi Plaza in Los Angeles. [Borrowed some dialogue from the show and the movie; it was too good to pass up.]

**Award: The Olicity/Die Hard AU I Didn’t Know I Needed But Enjoyed Immensely**

Velocity - MachaSWicket

SUMMARY: There's a bomb on a bus. Once the bus goes 50 miles an hour, the bomb is armed. If it drops below 50, it blows up. What do you do? AKA, the Olicity Speed AU.

**Award: Best ‘If you’re not leaving, I’m not leaving’ Moment That Made Me Cry**

Separate Lives - shannyfish

It was luck that Madelyn Smoak and Mackenzie Queen met at summer camp during a fencing match. Neither of them expected to pull off a mask and find a reflection of themselves staring back. But in the days that followed the girls learned that they were sisters– twins, separated by their parents. Madelyn had been raised in London with tech genius and blonde bombshell Felicity Smoak, while Mackenzie grew up with their father, Oliver Queen, the owner of Green Arrow Vineyards. When the girls devise a devious plan to switch parents, neither of them expected that what they’d really be fighting for was putting their family back together again. (Parent Trap AU)

**Award: Most Entertaining Olicity-Have-Kids-Who-Plot-Against-Them Fic**

@msbeccieboo’s recs:

Two Weeks Notice - LucyHatesJosh4Eva

Oliver Queen has a reputation as an insufferable playboy and a habit of hiring very inept, very attractive attorneys to represent his multi-billion dollar family corporation. So when an act of corporate espionage lands Felicity Smoak in his office on the heels of his last hiring debacle, her law degree and tech experience seem like the way to please his shareholders and his unhappy mother. He expects her smart mouth to cause him a huge pain in the ass; however, he doesn’t expect to trust and like her. Over time, Oliver starts to rely on Felicity for everything, and his world comes to a crashing halt when she gives her two weeks notice.

Retelling of the adorable rom com “Two Weeks Notice” starring Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant. I love this movie, and borrow some plot and some dialog with appreciation and joy. Updates on Mondays.

**Award: Most Wonderfully Frustrating ‘Just Tell Each Other How You Feel, Dammit’ Fic**

In Every Star, I See Your Face (Call Me in the Morning) - @jsevick

Felicity's new internship is full of... complications. (Grey’s Anatomy AU)

**Award: Best Olicity Playing Doctor, Literally**

Love Like Battleships - @callistawolf

Six Days Seven Nights AU - Felicity is a driven career woman on a much-needed vacation with her doting boyfriend. Oliver is a charter pilot with a history of running from complications (and his life). They clash from the start, two wrongs rubbing up against each other the wrong way. What happens when a nasty storm causes them to crash on a deserted island, alone, together?

**Award: Most Untraditional Appearance of a Trousersnake in a Fic**

Between Hello and Roses -  charmingwords23

Felicity Smoak had no idea what she was getting herself into when she signed on to be the star of the new season of The Bachelorette. With plenty of drama, adventure, heartbreak, and romance, this season promises to be the most shocking and dramatic yet!

**Award: Cheesiest (in the best way) Reality TV Olicity**

Surreal but Nice - angelica 

"After all... I'm just a guy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to love him."

a.k.a.

One Wednesday, Felicity Smoak of Tech Village meets Oliver Queen, the movie star. (Notting Hill AU)

**Award: Most Adorable Bumbling Felicity**

@memcjo’s recs:

Are These Your Glasses? - IIIIRENE

When Queens Consolidated throws a masked ball for New Year's Eve, Oliver and Felicity meet for the first time. They dance all night long until Felicity mysteriously flees from the venue dropping her glasses in the process. Unfortunately Oliver never got the name of the gorgeous blonde in the emerald dress, but he has her glasses and he will stop at nothing to find her so that they can continue where they left off.

Olicity AU inspired by Cinderella

**Award: Best Olicity Fairy Tale**

How to Save a Life - witchy2008

DWTS!AU. Oliver Queen has been pushed into competing to improve his image and subsequently the QC stock prices. His professional partner, Felicity Smoak, is working on coaxing him into putting some of his ghosts to rest.

This week, Team Olicity presents Oliver's most memorable year with a contemporary dance dedicated to Shado.

**Award: Best Sexy Olicity Dancing SO Sexy**

seemingly impossible (but not untrue) - @alexiablackbriar13 

Genius historian Dr Felicity Smoak unknowingly and accidentally calls up a bewitched alchemical manuscript within the Oxford Bodleian Libraries - a book that has been lost for centuries.

Felicity wants nothing to do with magic, despite her heritage and unruly, powerful abilities. But her discovery of Ashmole 782 sets the world of creatures stirring.

With a mystery afoot and new, dangerous magical abilities manifesting for her to navigate, she is approached by the enigmatic vampire biochemist Professor Oliver Queen, who seems to have a deep interest in both the manuscript… and her.

Based on A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness.

(No knowledge of ADOW or background is needed for you to read this fic!)

**Award: Best Felicity and Oliver Being Drawn Together Against the Odds**

Move - @bushlaboo

Push inspired AU. When people with psychic abilities are discovered governments around the world setup agencies to handle and secretly experiment on these enhanced individuals, one such agency is ARGUS. They're testing a powers boosting drug, Mirakuru, which will allow them to build the most powerful psychic army in the world. The only thing standing in their way is the vision of world’s most powerful Watcher who set in place the means to allow her daughter to foil their plan over a decade ago.

**Award: Best BAMF Felicity Smoak**

@smoaking-greenarrow’s recs:

How To Train Your Vigilante - @alexiablackbriar13

In a world where dragons exist and roam the earth, Felicity Smoak considers herself to be a normal if not slightly nerdy IT girl, with complicated family issues, a fascination with the winged predators and a slight ‘saving people’ complex. Her entire world changes when she meets Oliver, the infamous deadly Night Fury - and a genetic experiment - who flies around Starling City taking down criminals.

Their partnership will be one that rocks the world. 

(How To Train Your Dragon AU)

**Award: The ‘Oliver as Toothless is Brilliant and Spot-on’ Award**

The Big Catch - @nodecaff4me

The lives of Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak could not be more different.

He was an infamous billionaire playboy and heir to a fortune 500 company who did everything he could to reform himself into everything his family wanted him to be. She was a struggling single mother of two girls, doing her best she could do get her family through after her whole life in Boston had fallen apart in the aftermath of her ex-husband’s criminal mischiefs.

Both their worlds collide after his yacht’s Wifi-network collapses somewhere along the Oregon coast and he is forced to harbor in a small sleepy town called Elk Cove and hire an IT specialist to fix it only to refuse to pay her for her work in the end.

All bets are off when she learns that he was laying in the county hospital with amnesia after an accident and she could finally get her revenge...

An #Olicity Overboard AU (WIP)

**Award: The ‘I’ve Never Seen This Movie but This Fic is Everything I Need’ Award**

Stones of Time - arrow_through_my_writers_block

AU. Felicity Smoak is halfway across the world on a mission to recover the rumored mystical waters known as the Lazarus Pit. But when fate tosses her back in time and into the company of rogue League of Assassins members, she's caught up in a dangerous game of cat and mouse... soon falling for the mysterious Al-Sah-him, otherwise known as Oliver Queen. Will she find a way back to her time, or will love and adventure keep her in the past to possibly change the future? *inspired by Outlander

**Award: The ‘Perfect Fic for Your (my) Arrow and Outlander Obsessions’ Award and a Bonus ‘Fangirl Swoon’ Award for Al-Sah-him**

Fate, Luck, and Tequila - Emilyymay_x

The Olicity AU based on the film 'Just My Luck'

Oliver is a billionaire playboy with all the luck in the world.

Felicity Smoak is an excellent IT assistant at Queen Consolidated, with the most rotten luck ever.

When they meet at a masquerade party, they have no idea how much the tables will turn.

**Award: The ‘Better Than the Movie’ Award**

Werewolves and Vigilantes - Emilyymay_x

When Felicity finds out who her father is, and finds out he lives in Beacon Hills with his son, Felicity has to go and meet them. Little does she expect the crazy in Starling to be ten times worse in Beacon Hills... a whole new level in fact… (Teen Wolf inspired)

**Award: The ‘Best Combination of TV Shows Crossover’ Award**

Let us always find each other (in every world, in every story) - imgoingtocrash

Instead of asking Felicity to work on the ATOM Exosuit, Ray brings Felicity on to help him create a device that allows the user to theoretically travel to parallel universes. When Ray turns the theoretical into reality by stealing one of the prototypes and attempting to find his dead wife at the cost of ruining other universes, Felicity follows him. What begins as an attempt to stop her boss from going places he doesn’t belong turns into a realization that some people will always find a way to be together, no matter what.

A Thousand Pieces of You inspired AU, but no book knowledge is required.

**Award: My New Favorite ‘Exploring Other Universes Fic’ Award**

@blondeeoneexox’s recs:

Kerosene and Desire - @smoaking-greenarrow 

An Olicity Notebook AU with a darker twist.

**Award: Most Intense, Sweet, Topsy-Turvy, Beautiful Notebook AU (With the Best Cliffhanger!)**

Home is Where the Heart is - CSM

AU. This fic is loosely based on the movie Sweet Home Alabama. Puppy love is for fairytales and storybooks, they don't exist in the real world and all Oliver wants is for her to sign on the dotted line, a clear cut divorce. But being married to the most stubborn woman in the world and their equally opinionated mothers, Oliver knows this trip back home is going to be anything but easy.

**Award: Most Sass-Filled, Funny, Romantic Olicity AU**

Where You Lead (I Will Follow) - @jsevick

Oliver Queen’s careful routine at the diner he owns is disrupted by Stars Hollow’s newest residents, a single mom and her young daughter searching for a new life--and his own simple life will never be the same. (Gilmore Girls AU)

**Award: The Slowest of Slow Burns That I Wish We Could Have More Of!**

The Sound of an Arrow - thecomebackkids99

Five years ago, Oliver Queen lost his wife in a car accident.

Twenty years ago, Felicity Smoak's father kissed her on the forehead and disappeared from her life.

Now, she is the nanny for the six adorable Queen children, fighting to restore love in the mansion and trying to deal with the difficult-to-get-along-with Oliver, all the while as she continues to stumble upon evidence that could drag the Queen family further into darkness. (The Sound Of Music AU)

**Award: Most Emotional Rollercoaster**

Felicity the Virgin - javajunkie

When Felicity is accidentally artificially inseminated with hotel mogul Oliver Queen's sperm, her life changes in more ways than she could have ever imagined. Jane The Virgin - OLICITY STYLE AU

**Award: Most Beautiful Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers to Family Fic**

[gerbiloftriumph]

Captive Crown

(also on ao3)

Someone wanted the newly crowned King of Daventry and all his friends dead. Someone got close, once.

(warnings for the whole thing: kidnapping, bruising, starvation, nightmares, healthy dosage of angsty musing, sicfic, story-coherent vehicle for all my favorite ch2 headcanons)

~*~*~

3/7

(1: to steal)(2: to hide)(3: to seek)(4: to find)(5: to break)(6: to mend)(7: to heal, and to end)

~*~*~

“Your Majesty, we’re sorry about earlier,” Royal Guard Number Three called through the door. The others stood clustered behind her, looking apprehensive.

(“He’s going to throw something at us.”)

(“He isn’t.”)

(“You didn’t see the look on his face. He absolutely will.”)

“We brought hot chocolate,” she persisted, knocking again. “After walking in the rain, we thought you might need to warm up.” Still no response. “King Graham, are you in there?” She shifted the tray from one hand to both hands and bumped the door open with her hip. Everyone huddled around her, peeking through the gap.

“He’s not there,” No4 sighed, relieved.

No3 pushed the door open all the way. The throne room was littered with socks and acorns, as they’d left it. “But it’s getting dark.” She thought about the monsoon gray sky and amended, “Late. Shouldn’t he be back by now?”

“Maybe he’s staying in town. He used to do that a lot.”

“Yes, but that was before we crowned him.” No2 hesitated. “Is that allowed now?”

“It’s not like he’s a proper king, is it? I expect he can do whatever he likes.” No1 made some dismissive hand flapping gesture. “I suppose we should get this cleaned up or something. Hardly looks civilized. Doesn’t keep a very neat throne room, does he.”

“Does that mean we can drink the hot cocoa?” No2 asked hopefully.

No3 tapped her finger against the tray, not sure at all if she should—or even could—make a suggestion. She was the newest rank and file, just hired by the king. But he’d given her a job when she’d desperately wanted it, and…well, she felt wrong about all this. Like an unpleasant itch beneath her armor. Graham had looked so miserable when he’d left (fair enough—she’d heard the shouting even from the entrance hall), and he hadn’t come back hours later, and….

“What if I go to town and make sure?” she offered.

“Sure about what?” No1 said distractedly. He picked up one of the abandoned socks, but he didn’t seem to know what to do with it once he had it, and he let it drop again.

“That he’s safe?”

“Safe? We’re in Daventry. It’s no Serenia or Llewdor. We haven’t had anything worse than a wedzel around for years.”

And that dragon that killed that knight, she thought, a touch rebelliously. And leprechauns and goblins and giants and…oh, never mind. “Still, sir, I think a spot of rust on the helmet will do me good. Get some practice marching in.”

“Ah, go on then. We’ll keep some cocoa warm for you.” He took the tray from her and wandered back toward the kitchens, trying to bat No2 away with his elbow without spilling anything. “Later, later. Let’s reheat it and get the rest of the lads in, make it fair.”

She looked at the empty room, remembered how distressed Graham had seemed when he pushed off into the rain alone, and she spun on her heel. She’d go to town. He’d mentioned Wente earlier; may as well start there.

No3 meandered along the road, that eternal Daventry monsoon rain drumming on her umbrella. She practiced what she might say to him, what would convince him to come back, to not give up on them, on her and her beginning career. If she could get Wente or Amaya or Muriel (not Chester) on her side, surely combined they could whip up an argument as solid as Wente’s brownie frosting.

But when she got to the town, and when she found half a broken flute, and empty houses, and a ton of churned mud, and shards of glass and splintered wood, and broken pies and cracked alchemical vials, and a complete lack of any king or villagers whatsoever, she flung the umbrella into the shattered bakery, sprinted back to the castle, and managed to completely ruin hot cocoa night in three words: “King Graham’s gone!”

*~*~*

Someone tapped on his hand, gently. “No, go ‘way,” he mumbled. “Ten more minutes.” The tapping persisted. He withdrew his hand and pulled it close under the blankets. “Five minutes,” he said, keeping his eyes firmly shut, though to his disappointment he could feel himself waking up. Something licked his nose, and he sat bolt upright. “Triumph?”

The glowing salamander on his pillow flicked its tail. Graham gaped at it for a split second before the pain hit in a horrible wave and he huddled forward, clutching the back of his head. The blanket (no, his own cloak) bunched around his waist. His probing fingers found the aching lump on the back of his head from where he’d hit it on the cobblestones yesterday. Yesterday?

Oh. Right.

He was sure he’d dreamed it. Prayed he’d dreamed it. But in the cold light of salamander glow it was undeniable. No point in pinching himself to make sure—everything already hurt.

Graham shifted, leaning against the stone wall behind him. It felt like he’d rolled down the side of a mountain (ha, again). His leg was uncomfortably stiff. Cautiously, he rolled back the fabric and found a horrible bruise on his hip, mottled purple and black and ugly in the gloomy light. The slightest pressure made him hiss. Sore, finger shaped bruises also marked the back of his legs and calves and even his arms from where they—the goblins, right—had gripped and pulled and thrown him into this cell. Stars.

Gingerly, he eased himself off the mattress, putting weight on his good leg before equalizing himself. His stiff leg shuddered, and he staggered forward, catching himself on the stone block that suited for a table. Newton chirped at him, and Graham breathed deep before pushing himself upright. Every bone seemed to creak and groan and pop as he did.  

For the next undeterminable amount of time, he limped in agonized circles around the room, half hunched over for most of it, stretching out aching muscles and trying to focus, to think. His steps sloshed—much of the water from the night (or whenever—how much time had passed, anyway?) had drained away, but the lower stones puddled. He guessed it was rainwater collecting in the caves. As long as it was raining on the surface, his little prison would be damp.

The worst part about this, he decided (other than the sharp bite in his hip every few steps), was the not knowing. Not knowing why they’d taken him, and not knowing what they wanted to do with him. The goblins’ faces (masks?) revealed nothing. He couldn’t ask without an interpreter—not that there was anyone around to ask, anyway.

It wasn’t like the kingdom had enemies, at least none that he could definitively name. Or, to be fairer, there were some, but he wasn’t certain who, or if there even was a who, to blame, and guesses were just guesses. But it felt so…drastic. Unnecessary.

Sure, he’d only just been crowned and perhaps someone was upset about not being chosen (fair enough; who crowns a royal knight with no proper training or, truly, all that much warning), but so what? He upheld an open court. They could have walked in and laid out their frustration, maybe even made a claim to the crown. Stars, after that debacle in the castle earlier, he might have simply given them the throne had they asked politely enough.

It could be a ransom demand, he supposed, but the kingdom was dealing with rotten budget problems brought on by Edward’s illnesses and badly implemented addendums in his final months, and neither Graham nor any of the guards had sorted out how the unlimited treasure chest worked yet. (If, indeed, it even was unlimited. It had the mark of the Merchant of Miracles printed on the bottom, so, not much hope there.) If someone planned on getting a ransom for him, they were going to be sorely disappointed.

Hopefully send-him-home disappointed, not cut-his-throat disappointed.

Oh, shining stars. He ran his hands through his tangled hair.

To avoid losing Graham to the knife, the royal guards would have to strike up deals with the neighboring kingdoms. They’d have to relinquish the lavender fields to the highest bidder. Trade their goats and livestock. Open the King’s Forests for hunting. Daventry would be ruined economically and politically, just to scrape together a pitiful ransom for their stupid king.

It might just be best to forget the ransom, crown someone new (a King’s Tournament instead of a Knight’s Tournament? A tournament of speed could be the first to sign a ream of addendums) and forget Graham had ever existed. They hadn’t even had more than two sessions for the new royal portrait to be added to the Hall of Faces. It would be easy enough to hide him, a pathetic little footnote in the history books.

Which would make for a happy, thriving Daventry, but a not so happy pack of goblins, and, consequently, a less than thriving Graham.

He pressed his face against the barred window. No one was around. He looked down, trying to see what sort of lock held the door—a very large padlock, by the look of it. He wriggled a hand through the bars and twisted his arm until he had it in his grasp. Sturdy. Heavy. He tried to angle it to see the lock itself, but he couldn’t quite manage from here.

With a flash of delighted inspiration, he unpinned his brooch from his cowl. He flipped it over and studied it, but he felt his burst of excitement drain away again. The metal pin was far too small for the weighty lock. He’d just break the brooch off, and then the goblins would have to break down the door to let him out or just not bother to open it again.

He wandered toward the cracked mirror, to reaffix the pin straight against his chest, and stared at himself. With the dark rings under his eyes, he looked like he’d been punched in the face. Twice.

“Ahh.” Graham sank onto the mattress, the only properly dry thing in the whole cell, and wrapped his cloak tight. An opportunity would come, surely. He just had to be ready for it. Whenever it came. Whatever it looked like. He curled on his side, favoring his bruised hip, and tried to think of sunshine.

*~*~*

Graham fell into a sort of routine as time crept past on soft salamander feet. He couldn’t know how much time was passing, and he was reluctant to make a guess at it for fear of making the situation feel all the more helpless. Hopeless.

He took to reciting what addenda he could remember—he thought he might be mixing up some of the numbers (was it Addendum 78934 that was about pasta in royal guard diets, or 86752, or maybe he’d forgotten a decimal point), but he knew he had the content right. He’d been memorizing facts and sheets for weeks. It helped keep him grounded after he’d counted all Newton’s spots and every facet of every rock dozens of times over.

Every now and again, when his nauseous hunger felt overwhelming, he stumbled toward the pipes and gathered up a small amount of porridge. Stringy to the eyes, slimy to the touch, and rubbery to the teeth, he bit back on his gag reflex and swallowed handfuls of it as quick as he could with his eyes screwed shut. It didn’t seem to have much of a smell to it, but that was most likely because he’d gotten used to the wet-dog reek of his damp, lizard-infested cell.

But one day (the third day, had he been able to accurately number the hours—a proper fairy tale amount of time, which might have given him a hint as to who had done this), the horrible porridge stopped coming. Nothing oozed out of the pipes at all. Graham almost laughed. No more porridge! Ha! No more…oh, hang on. No more porridge means no more food means…his stomach snarled. Or was it the goblins outside his door snarling at each other?

Then, because the goblins didn’t want to do their own chores, he was freed. Or, at least, he wasn’t locked in his cell constantly. Every evening they unlocked the door and let him out to do their literal dirty work. This first night, they thrust an oily rag in his face and ordered him to clear spiderwebs. Well, fine. Chores would break up the monotony of his own thoughts, and anyway, it was a great excuse to explore every corner of this prison without getting tackled.

But his cleaning came to a screeching halt when he discovered, to his utter horror, that he wasn’t alone. All his friends were trapped in the shadows and the slime, too. Wente and his new wife, Bramble. Amaya. The Hobblepots. The Merchant. Even, bafflingly, Mr. Fancycakes. They were starving, bedraggled, as pathetic as he was. Worse than he was. And they were depending on him for survival.

He straightened his crown.

It’s a puzzle, Graham. Find a way out.

[fullspectrum-cbd-oil]

Surging Sanders, Emboldened Trump Unnerve Democrats on Eve of New Hampshire

For the past year, Democratic voters have been anxious to settle on a savior capable of defeating President Donald Trump.

The first week of primary balloting was supposed to speed the winnowing of an outsized field of candidates and showcase Democrats’ readiness to take back the White House in November. But an embarrassing meltdown in the Iowa caucus vote count, and a dismal showing by Joe Biden, once seen as the safest choice to unseat the Republican incumbent, have only heightened fears among some Democrats that their party isn’t up to the task.

The early strength of Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders, the liberal stalwart who has vowed to upend American healthcare and go after corporations and the wealthy, has some voters worried that Democrats will blow their chance to unseat an unpopular president if the party veers too far to the left.

Tuesday’s New Hampshire primary may do little to dispel the collective unease or help bridge the deep ideological split between the party’s liberal and moderate wings. Several recent polls showed the top two vote-getters in Iowa – Sanders and former South Bend, Indiana Mayor Pete Buttigieg – as the favorites in New Hampshire.

While the primary season is young, voters such as Millie LaFontaine are already feeling a touch of panic. Interviewed Saturday at a Biden rally in Manchester, New Hampshire, the 69-year-old said she wants to back the candidate best-positioned to knock off Trump, but she isn’t sure who that might be.

“I’d like to vote strategically, but we Democrats are in disarray and I don’t know what strategic is,” she said. “I am afraid.”

GOP UNITED, DEMS DIVIDED

Adding to the party’s jitters, last week was one of the brightest in Trump’s three years in office. His impeachment trial ended in acquittal. The economy continued churning out jobs. A Gallup poll showed 49% of all registered voters surveyed approve of his performance, the highest mark of his presidency – including an overwhelming 94% of Republicans.

Meanwhile, results in Iowa showed that Democratic voters appear far from a consensus.

After leading in the polls for virtually the entire campaign pre-season, the 77-year-old Biden limped to a fourth-place finish in the caucus. It was a blow to Democratic traditionalists who consider the avuncular former vice president the surest bet to unite the fractious party and defeat Trump.

The strong performance of Buttigieg, the youngest candidate at 38, has boosted his profile as a centrist alternative to Biden. He is projected to have won 14 delegates, two more than Sanders. But polls show he has not attracted much support from black voters, a cornerstone of the diverse Democratic coalition. And some worry America isn’t ready to elect an openly gay president.

Adding to the uncertainty is an ascendant Mike Bloomberg, the billionaire former mayor of New York who has positioned himself as a moderate who can win independents and Republicans. Bloomberg is skipping the four early voting states in February but is competing from March 3, known as Super Tuesday, when nearly a third of delegates will be awarded from 14 states, including Texas and California.

After spending more than a quarter-billion dollars nationwide on advertising since November, Bloomberg has surged to third place behind Biden and Sanders, according to a Reuters/Ipsos national poll conducted Jan. 29-30.

Sanders, 78, won the most votes in Iowa’s complicated caucus system. The independent senator boasts a large grassroots network that is passionate about his calls for transformational change. But his candidacy terrifies many moderates, who believe a self-described “democratic socialist” stands no chance in a general election.

Trump already has seized upon the label, saying during last week’s State of the Union address that “America will never be a socialist country.”

Sanders backers contend he is the only candidate capable of bringing out young people and others who normally wouldn’t vote. While there is evidence that Sanders did pull in more young voters in Iowa, overall turnout was significantly below record numbers posted in 2008, when Democrat Barack Obama rode a wave of enthusiasm to the White House. That casts doubt on Sanders’ argument that his brand of left-wing populism can inspire enough new voters to defeat Trump, said Rahm Emanuel, Obama’s former chief of staff and the ex-mayor of Chicago.

“There wasn’t this magic army” that materialized in Iowa, Emanuel said. “The cavalry wasn’t coming.“

SHAKY START

The Democrats’ rough week began with a debacle in the Iowa vote count, caused in part by the failure of a ballot-tabulating phone app. Days of delays in announcing the totals drew mockery from Trump and, ultimately, a call from Tom Perez, chairman of the Democratic National Committee (DNC), to re-canvass all the precinct results.

“We’re a party in chaos,” Rep. Marcia Fudge, a Democratic congresswoman from Ohio, told Politico.

Former Pennsylvania Gov. Edward G. Rendell called the bungled count a “fiasco.”

“We don’t look very good when one of our biggest arguments against Donald Trump is that he’s incompetent, and every day something happens where we screw something up,” Rendell, a Biden supporter and former DNC chair, told Reuters.

Others worry the party will fail to capitalize on Republican vulnerabilities on issues such as healthcare if the eventual nominee backs solutions perceived as too radical by middle-of-the-road voters.

Sanders and Massachusetts Sen. Elizabeth Warren favor Medicare for All, a universal government system that would eventually replace private health insurance. Biden, Buttigieg and Minnesota Sen. Amy Klobuchar want to improve the existing system and add a public option for those who want it.

Voter Chris Kane is weighing his options. The 65-year-old ecologist from Concord, New Hampshire likes Klobuchar, but he’s open to backing Warren, the choice of his wife Eve Oyer. The couple attended a Warren event at a middle school over the weekend, while their son Ben Kane, 32, came up from New York to canvass for Sanders.

“What’s the right decision?,” said the elder Kane on Sunday. “It’s complicated.”

CULLING THE HERD

Sanders backers point to their candidate’s momentum, both in votes and fundraising, as evidence his proposals are catching fire. The campaign said it raised $25 million in January, most of it small donations from 648,000 people.

New Hampshire resident Anne Lichtener views Sanders’ anti-establishment credentials as an advantage in winning back blue-collar voters who defected to Trump in 2016.

“Bernie probably appeals to the working class more than any other candidate,” said the 28-year-old lab manager, who lives in Enfield.

The Buttigieg camp, meanwhile, is looking to pick off Biden donors following the former vice president’s flop in Iowa, according to a Buttigieg fundraiser who spoke on the condition of anonymity.

“People who were for Biden were for him because they thought he could win. That’s no longer the case,” the person said.

On Sunday, in a jam-packed hotel ballroom along the New Hampshire seacoast, Biden told supporters to keep the faith.

“No matter what happens in this state…I’m going to keep moving,” Biden said, predicting he will perform well in states with a greater number of African-Americans and other voters of color.

Like Iowa, New Hampshire is overwhelmingly white. Nevada, which has a large Latino population, and South Carolina, with a heavy concentration of black voters, are next on the primary calendar this month.

With the prospect that several viable candidates will roll on into the spring, the race could remain undecided for months – perhaps even to the opening of the nominating convention in July in Milwaukee.

Democratic voters are buckling in for what some fear will be a rough ride.

Barry Nestor, a Biden supporter in Milford, New Hampshire, said he is particularly worried about Trump’s “socialists” tag sticking to the party’s liberal candidates.

“Trump is going to go after them,” Nestor said. “It’s just not going to be good.”

(Reporting by Joseph Ax, Trevor Hunnicutt, Simon Lewis, Michael Martina, James Oliphant and Jarrett Renshaw; Writing by Joe Tanfani; Editing by Marla Dickerson)

from IJR https://ift.tt/31G1NQl via IFTTT

[adambstingus]

The Tipping Point Of The Airline Industry (And How We Win)

United Airlines is really getting hammered right now. It’s not just the story of David Dao, the man who was beaten by security when he challenged their dipshit overbooking policies. Since the public turned Dao into a martyr unafraid to confront evil fascistic corporations that would be right at home in the RoboCop universe, United’s been accused of everything just short of being a literal Nazis.

Ah, I should’ve known better.

It doesn’t help that they’re also being accused of killing a gigantic rabbit that was well on its way to snatching the title of the world’s largest rabbit away from its own father.

The Washington Post/Annette Edwards Look deep into the bunny’s eyes and feel the emotional manipulation of my inclusion of the picture taking hold.

And let’s not forget the controversy the Dao story overshadowed, in which United booted two teenage girls off of a flight because a dumb provision in the membership program they were part of had deemed leggings inappropriate in-flight attire. And now there’s a professional golfer complaining that United broke his clubs. Even Delta Airlines has been getting some residual heat after they removed a guy from a flight because he went to pee when the “Please Don’t Pee Right Now, You’ll Just Make a Mess” sign was on.

A passenger getting his face rocked by sky cops is a big deal. The golf club thing probably shouldn’t even be a story, but it happened to a quasi-famous person at the worst time for United, so we’ll allow it and a dozen other trivial controversies into the hate party, because since the first 1980s standup comedian joked about being cramped in coach while people in first class get caviar foot massages, bitching about airlines is a cherished communal catharsis. United unwittingly turned itself into the outlet we needed to purge our frustrations with their entire shitty industry.

So every time a new headline pops up about an airline doing what they have always gotten away with (losing luggage, killing pets), our first reaction is to roll our eyes and say, “Seriously? This is considered news now?” And I’m saying, “You’re goddamn right it is. Or at least, it’s the only form of non-news I’m totally fine with them printing.”

Airports seem to be poorly run debacles no matter where you go, while airlines themselves have been raising prices for years. If the money’s going to the in-flight entertainment, I don’t think those four episodes of The Big Bang Theory in the headrest were worth the investment. Every decade of air travel brings with it a new set of annoyances and complaints exactly like those. We’re all permanently pissed that we have no alternative but to deal with this suppository in the sky that we can’t escape without accidentally killing hundreds of passengers in the process.

CBS Killing hundreds of fellow passengers seems like a fine alternative.

Whether all of this hate has any merit is irrelevant. Airlines can’t fight back against the shared cultural perception that they see us less like people and more like flying cattle so stir-crazy we’ll pay nine dollars for a ham and cheese engineered so we can also taste the torment we’re seeing, hearing, touching, and smelling all around the cabin.

The video of that guy getting beaten was a rallying point. It let us be mad at an entity which usually irks us, but not enough to call anything they do an injustice, even though our tendency to exaggerate minor inconveniences is begging us to consider the uncomfortable complementary pillow a civil rights violation. Once people have decided they hate someone, every trivial thing they do becomes another reason to hate them. The severity of the offense doesn’t matter; throwing your mom down a flight of stairs and liking peanut butter crunchy instead of smooth are on equal ground. When they sneeze, you want to tell them to eat shit and die instead of bless you, because of course Steve would sneeze. Sneezing is so typical of degenerate pricks like Steve.

We’re dragging out those delicious pent-up negative feelings as long as we can, using any flimsy reason we can, because it feels so good to be so mad, especially when the reason we got mad to begin with was so legitimately appalling. And we can do it forever. Each one of us has a camera in our pocket we will whip out to record anything we consider a sky tragedy with a speed that in another era would make us the fastest gunslinger in the West. From that perspective it all seems so entitled, but it’s not. All of it is an attempt at affecting some kind of change on an industry that’s always seemed like it doesn’t care about any of us, even if there were some objective scientific way we could prove that untrue.

If being obnoxious pricks who drag corporations through the mud online like they dragged a bloodied David Dao is what gets shit done, then so be it. People dogpiling their complaints the way they have is the least they can do. If you’ve got a problem on a flight, you can complain to the crew. When the problem is a larger systemic issue of disrespecting paying customers, no one’s going to pay attention to one person storming the gate …

… but they’ll listen to hundreds of thousands of us tweetstorming the gate. And if news outlets pick up on those viral outbursts and turn them into stories, so be it. This is the first time in history that we’ve been able to punch back against this shitty, shitty industry, and I’m all for it.

Luis is sharping his pitchfork, ready for whatever outrage comes next. In the meantime, you can find him on Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook.

The proliferation of beer pong and craft beer may have you think that we’re living in one of the peak times to get drunk, but humans have been getting famously hammered for millennia. Like a frat house’s lawn after a kegger, history is littered with world-changing events that were secretly powered by booze. The inaugural games of the Roman Coliseum, the drafting of the U.S. Constitution, and the Russian Revolution were all capped off by major parties that most attendees probably regretted in the morning.

Join Jack O’Brien and Cracked staffers Carmen Angelica, Alex Schmidt, and Michael Swaim, plus comedian Blake Wexler, for a retelling of history’s biggest moments you didn’t realize everyone was drunk for.

Get your tickets here:

For more, check out The 6 Most Badass Airline Pilots To Ever Stare Down Death and The 7 Worst Things Airline Pilots Have Done Mid-Flight.

Subscribe to our YouTube channel, and check out If Airlines Were Honest, and watch other videos you won’t see on the site!

Also follow us on Facebook, and we’ll follow you anywhere.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/08/30/the-tipping-point-of-the-airline-industry-and-how-we-win/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/164802662582

[therealvinelle]

I know you did how fast Edward was but do you think there are any othe rvampires that are faster than him? Assuming he is just faster naturally instead of the other handicapping.

... anon, with all due respect: what are you talking about?

This is the post I made on how fast Edward is, and the entire point of that post is that Edward is not fast. It is what caused the Edward speed debacle. Here is a post by professional trainer anon on the Cullens' likely speeds comparative to one another, I hope it answers your question which I'm not sure what is.

[samanthasroberts]

The Tipping Point Of The Airline Industry (And How We Win)

United Airlines is really getting hammered right now. It’s not just the story of David Dao, the man who was beaten by security when he challenged their dipshit overbooking policies. Since the public turned Dao into a martyr unafraid to confront evil fascistic corporations that would be right at home in the RoboCop universe, United’s been accused of everything just short of being a literal Nazis.

Ah, I should’ve known better.

It doesn’t help that they’re also being accused of killing a gigantic rabbit that was well on its way to snatching the title of the world’s largest rabbit away from its own father.

The Washington Post/Annette Edwards Look deep into the bunny’s eyes and feel the emotional manipulation of my inclusion of the picture taking hold.

And let’s not forget the controversy the Dao story overshadowed, in which United booted two teenage girls off of a flight because a dumb provision in the membership program they were part of had deemed leggings inappropriate in-flight attire. And now there’s a professional golfer complaining that United broke his clubs. Even Delta Airlines has been getting some residual heat after they removed a guy from a flight because he went to pee when the “Please Don’t Pee Right Now, You’ll Just Make a Mess” sign was on.

A passenger getting his face rocked by sky cops is a big deal. The golf club thing probably shouldn’t even be a story, but it happened to a quasi-famous person at the worst time for United, so we’ll allow it and a dozen other trivial controversies into the hate party, because since the first 1980s standup comedian joked about being cramped in coach while people in first class get caviar foot massages, bitching about airlines is a cherished communal catharsis. United unwittingly turned itself into the outlet we needed to purge our frustrations with their entire shitty industry.

So every time a new headline pops up about an airline doing what they have always gotten away with (losing luggage, killing pets), our first reaction is to roll our eyes and say, “Seriously? This is considered news now?” And I’m saying, “You’re goddamn right it is. Or at least, it’s the only form of non-news I’m totally fine with them printing.”

Airports seem to be poorly run debacles no matter where you go, while airlines themselves have been raising prices for years. If the money’s going to the in-flight entertainment, I don’t think those four episodes of The Big Bang Theory in the headrest were worth the investment. Every decade of air travel brings with it a new set of annoyances and complaints exactly like those. We’re all permanently pissed that we have no alternative but to deal with this suppository in the sky that we can’t escape without accidentally killing hundreds of passengers in the process.

CBS Killing hundreds of fellow passengers seems like a fine alternative.

Whether all of this hate has any merit is irrelevant. Airlines can’t fight back against the shared cultural perception that they see us less like people and more like flying cattle so stir-crazy we’ll pay nine dollars for a ham and cheese engineered so we can also taste the torment we’re seeing, hearing, touching, and smelling all around the cabin.

The video of that guy getting beaten was a rallying point. It let us be mad at an entity which usually irks us, but not enough to call anything they do an injustice, even though our tendency to exaggerate minor inconveniences is begging us to consider the uncomfortable complementary pillow a civil rights violation. Once people have decided they hate someone, every trivial thing they do becomes another reason to hate them. The severity of the offense doesn’t matter; throwing your mom down a flight of stairs and liking peanut butter crunchy instead of smooth are on equal ground. When they sneeze, you want to tell them to eat shit and die instead of bless you, because of course Steve would sneeze. Sneezing is so typical of degenerate pricks like Steve.

We’re dragging out those delicious pent-up negative feelings as long as we can, using any flimsy reason we can, because it feels so good to be so mad, especially when the reason we got mad to begin with was so legitimately appalling. And we can do it forever. Each one of us has a camera in our pocket we will whip out to record anything we consider a sky tragedy with a speed that in another era would make us the fastest gunslinger in the West. From that perspective it all seems so entitled, but it’s not. All of it is an attempt at affecting some kind of change on an industry that’s always seemed like it doesn’t care about any of us, even if there were some objective scientific way we could prove that untrue.

If being obnoxious pricks who drag corporations through the mud online like they dragged a bloodied David Dao is what gets shit done, then so be it. People dogpiling their complaints the way they have is the least they can do. If you’ve got a problem on a flight, you can complain to the crew. When the problem is a larger systemic issue of disrespecting paying customers, no one’s going to pay attention to one person storming the gate …

… but they’ll listen to hundreds of thousands of us tweetstorming the gate. And if news outlets pick up on those viral outbursts and turn them into stories, so be it. This is the first time in history that we’ve been able to punch back against this shitty, shitty industry, and I’m all for it.

Luis is sharping his pitchfork, ready for whatever outrage comes next. In the meantime, you can find him on Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook.

The proliferation of beer pong and craft beer may have you think that we’re living in one of the peak times to get drunk, but humans have been getting famously hammered for millennia. Like a frat house’s lawn after a kegger, history is littered with world-changing events that were secretly powered by booze. The inaugural games of the Roman Coliseum, the drafting of the U.S. Constitution, and the Russian Revolution were all capped off by major parties that most attendees probably regretted in the morning.

Join Jack O’Brien and Cracked staffers Carmen Angelica, Alex Schmidt, and Michael Swaim, plus comedian Blake Wexler, for a retelling of history’s biggest moments you didn’t realize everyone was drunk for.

Get your tickets here:

For more, check out The 6 Most Badass Airline Pilots To Ever Stare Down Death and The 7 Worst Things Airline Pilots Have Done Mid-Flight.

Subscribe to our YouTube channel, and check out If Airlines Were Honest, and watch other videos you won’t see on the site!

Also follow us on Facebook, and we’ll follow you anywhere.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/08/30/the-tipping-point-of-the-airline-industry-and-how-we-win/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/08/30/the-tipping-point-of-the-airline-industry-and-how-we-win/

[allofbeercom]

The Tipping Point Of The Airline Industry (And How We Win)

United Airlines is really getting hammered right now. It’s not just the story of David Dao, the man who was beaten by security when he challenged their dipshit overbooking policies. Since the public turned Dao into a martyr unafraid to confront evil fascistic corporations that would be right at home in the RoboCop universe, United’s been accused of everything just short of being a literal Nazis.

Ah, I should’ve known better.

It doesn’t help that they’re also being accused of killing a gigantic rabbit that was well on its way to snatching the title of the world’s largest rabbit away from its own father.

The Washington Post/Annette Edwards Look deep into the bunny’s eyes and feel the emotional manipulation of my inclusion of the picture taking hold.

And let’s not forget the controversy the Dao story overshadowed, in which United booted two teenage girls off of a flight because a dumb provision in the membership program they were part of had deemed leggings inappropriate in-flight attire. And now there’s a professional golfer complaining that United broke his clubs. Even Delta Airlines has been getting some residual heat after they removed a guy from a flight because he went to pee when the “Please Don’t Pee Right Now, You’ll Just Make a Mess” sign was on.

A passenger getting his face rocked by sky cops is a big deal. The golf club thing probably shouldn’t even be a story, but it happened to a quasi-famous person at the worst time for United, so we’ll allow it and a dozen other trivial controversies into the hate party, because since the first 1980s standup comedian joked about being cramped in coach while people in first class get caviar foot massages, bitching about airlines is a cherished communal catharsis. United unwittingly turned itself into the outlet we needed to purge our frustrations with their entire shitty industry.

So every time a new headline pops up about an airline doing what they have always gotten away with (losing luggage, killing pets), our first reaction is to roll our eyes and say, “Seriously? This is considered news now?” And I’m saying, “You’re goddamn right it is. Or at least, it’s the only form of non-news I’m totally fine with them printing.”

Airports seem to be poorly run debacles no matter where you go, while airlines themselves have been raising prices for years. If the money’s going to the in-flight entertainment, I don’t think those four episodes of The Big Bang Theory in the headrest were worth the investment. Every decade of air travel brings with it a new set of annoyances and complaints exactly like those. We’re all permanently pissed that we have no alternative but to deal with this suppository in the sky that we can’t escape without accidentally killing hundreds of passengers in the process.

CBS Killing hundreds of fellow passengers seems like a fine alternative.

Whether all of this hate has any merit is irrelevant. Airlines can’t fight back against the shared cultural perception that they see us less like people and more like flying cattle so stir-crazy we’ll pay nine dollars for a ham and cheese engineered so we can also taste the torment we’re seeing, hearing, touching, and smelling all around the cabin.

The video of that guy getting beaten was a rallying point. It let us be mad at an entity which usually irks us, but not enough to call anything they do an injustice, even though our tendency to exaggerate minor inconveniences is begging us to consider the uncomfortable complementary pillow a civil rights violation. Once people have decided they hate someone, every trivial thing they do becomes another reason to hate them. The severity of the offense doesn’t matter; throwing your mom down a flight of stairs and liking peanut butter crunchy instead of smooth are on equal ground. When they sneeze, you want to tell them to eat shit and die instead of bless you, because of course Steve would sneeze. Sneezing is so typical of degenerate pricks like Steve.

We’re dragging out those delicious pent-up negative feelings as long as we can, using any flimsy reason we can, because it feels so good to be so mad, especially when the reason we got mad to begin with was so legitimately appalling. And we can do it forever. Each one of us has a camera in our pocket we will whip out to record anything we consider a sky tragedy with a speed that in another era would make us the fastest gunslinger in the West. From that perspective it all seems so entitled, but it’s not. All of it is an attempt at affecting some kind of change on an industry that’s always seemed like it doesn’t care about any of us, even if there were some objective scientific way we could prove that untrue.

If being obnoxious pricks who drag corporations through the mud online like they dragged a bloodied David Dao is what gets shit done, then so be it. People dogpiling their complaints the way they have is the least they can do. If you’ve got a problem on a flight, you can complain to the crew. When the problem is a larger systemic issue of disrespecting paying customers, no one’s going to pay attention to one person storming the gate …

… but they’ll listen to hundreds of thousands of us tweetstorming the gate. And if news outlets pick up on those viral outbursts and turn them into stories, so be it. This is the first time in history that we’ve been able to punch back against this shitty, shitty industry, and I’m all for it.

Luis is sharping his pitchfork, ready for whatever outrage comes next. In the meantime, you can find him on Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook.

The proliferation of beer pong and craft beer may have you think that we’re living in one of the peak times to get drunk, but humans have been getting famously hammered for millennia. Like a frat house’s lawn after a kegger, history is littered with world-changing events that were secretly powered by booze. The inaugural games of the Roman Coliseum, the drafting of the U.S. Constitution, and the Russian Revolution were all capped off by major parties that most attendees probably regretted in the morning.

Join Jack O’Brien and Cracked staffers Carmen Angelica, Alex Schmidt, and Michael Swaim, plus comedian Blake Wexler, for a retelling of history’s biggest moments you didn’t realize everyone was drunk for.

Get your tickets here:

For more, check out The 6 Most Badass Airline Pilots To Ever Stare Down Death and The 7 Worst Things Airline Pilots Have Done Mid-Flight.

Subscribe to our YouTube channel, and check out If Airlines Were Honest, and watch other videos you won’t see on the site!

Also follow us on Facebook, and we’ll follow you anywhere.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/08/30/the-tipping-point-of-the-airline-industry-and-how-we-win/

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Are the Denali part of the Edward speed debacle? Are they in the joke or do they think Edward is that fast and the others that slow? If they are in the joke what do they think about it?

The speed debacle.

It's likely. Given the Denali lived with the Cullens, if we follow the speed debacle logic, they'd have to be very careful not to overtake Edward.

Eleazar, I imagine, believes they are doing Edward a favor and that it's a good deed to make Edward feel better about himself. The others either think the same or that it's funny.

[therealvinelle]

just wanted to let you know that the Edward speed debacle link isn't working!

This one: <therealvinelle.tumblr.com/tagged/edward speed debacle/chrono>? It works! It sends you to the start of the tag, rather than a specific post.