#fifty percent

[unwelcome-ephestion]

Ballroom is one of my favourite underrated musicals. It only ran 116 performances, perhaps slightly out of step with the style of the times - it premiered in 1978, the era of the rock opera, and when the hottest film musical around was Grease. Ballroom is more old fashioned than that, but it has a gorgeous score and a heartbreaking story - a widow who finds love again, only to find that she has been strung along just as she has come out of her shell.

Dorothy Loudon played the lead - a wonderful actor who played in Follies, and who originated (and won a Tony for) the role of Miss Hannigan in Annie. This is the song that has really survived - Fifty Percent, the eleven o'clock number, a fantastic torch song. I would love to see the show revived, though I suspect it's unlikely, but it's great in the meantime to see that this song has become a classic. Written by Alan and Marilyn Bergman, the latter who died a couple of years ago, the couple best known perhaps for writing The Way We Were. That's a wonderful song, but Fifty Percent is every bit as good.

[zenebohoc]

A(z) Hip Hop 45s Classics 3 turntables mix by Fonki Cheff megtekintése a YouTube Music alkalmazásban

[munchymunchkin]

[musical-theatre-encyclopedia]

Watch "Beatrice Arthur--Fifty Percent, Ballroom, 1982 TV" on YouTube

❤💛💚💙💜😍😘😻💖💕Valentine's Day Playlist😽💝🌹😙💋💌💓💞💘😚

[fuckmeyer]

love the idea that the Volturi collect newspapers from all over the world so they can watch out for rogue vamps. bc they're not out there doing that shit. really, some poor intern/human-wannabe-vamp is just running around sifting through the daily papers like an editorial assistant working the slush pile at a trad publishing company. underpaid, overworked, crying on lunch breaks, chugging cold burnt coffee, desperately trying & failing to unionize, etc.

[athycore]

Hello!!! :3 I wish to make a request! I really love your writing style and the way you carry out your fics, theyre so awesome X3!!!☆

Could I make a req of Mob (/Shigeo Kageyama) with a gn!gyaru!reader :3c? Extra points if they do really good in school!

I see that you havent posted in a while on this blog, so you dont have to respond to my req! Please take care of yourself first out of anything else ^^<3

Thank youuuuuu!!!!! X3

-[Anonymous].

OMG HAIIII!!! Thank you so much, about me not posting in a while, i completely forget im a writer so i never end up checking requests, but now i did!!

Anyways heres ur food :3

Mob w a Gyaru!reader…(gn reader)

To say mob was obsessed is an understatement. He simply fawns over your fashion and loves the idea of going against the beauty standard. Although because of his fashionable s/o, he has a hard time blending in. At times he doesnt want the attention but his albsolute cutie of his lover being the center of attention, mob wouldnt mind just this once.

You both go to clothing shops together! Mob believes and trusts your fashion taste to be able to pick a few for him. He wants to hang out and uses the idea of shopping together to get you talking. He enjoys it. Afterall he somewhat helps with some of the clothes for you to pick out, while you help him look his best. He adores your keen eye on managing to find the good clothes that are usually hidden..(gatekeepers😒😒)

When you go on dates he swears he can pay, but his pay isnt enough..afterall regien isnt too reliable. Instead you pay, hope you dont mind. After you both end up going to the park or going to each others houses to hang out later. Mob gaslights(begs) reigen to let him off early for these dates too. He wants to show his respect by simply making time for you like any wonderful lover.

Mob and his family aprove of you so much! You are just the sweetest and the cutest girls to ever approach mob. Ritsu thinks its rad that his older brother managed to get a parnther in general, but thinks even more highly of you when he knows and sees your genuine care for his brother. Plus when you go to mobs house to hangout, ritsu joins whenever he feels lonely. You and mob welcome him with open arms, especially when watching a horror movie.

Mob uses his psychic powers to try to find out what you like in order for him to get the RIGHT gift. Hes just whipped and his friends and brother tease him for it. Simple middle schoolers am i right? He doesnt mind it though.

He introduces you to reigen and reigen approves. Reigen sees you as fit, and an adorable girl who would help mob by the long mile. Mob also introduced you to teru and sho, as well as the other psychics. They all like you and think you are so cool with your makeup and fashion. Heck, teru asked for some advice too.

Mob gets you both matching keychains..guaranteed. Like those cute sanrio ones or the cute little characters. He finds them absolutely adorable. The idea that his s/o has the other half, he ends up staring at his keychain on end till his club snaps him outta it.

In school you might as well be a prodigy! He finds the fact that you do so well extremely admirable. He wants to be tutored by you and you only. Only you can be patient with him. He thinks of you as top of his class, grade, school even!( next to ritsu ) He just gets so happy seeing you not having to worry about grades and what not.

There are times when you are doing makeup, he just watches. No conversation, nothing. Soly because he thinks its skillful, he feels as tho its art and that she shouldn’t interfere. But there are times he asks questions about the products your using. Hes just curious about all that stuff.

Hes your #1 supporter! He believes that you should and will do what YOU want. That no one should tell you anything about how to look, act, or present yourself!

Hope you liked it!!! Thanks so much for the request!!!

[iiicarus0]

i cannot BELIEVE that the first honest to god gameover i got in this game came from failing to correctly use chaincutters TWICE and then just looking at a communist symbol on the wall

however the mental image of this horrible broken-down man somehow failing to open a door once, then again with more frustration, then happening to glance over at a white pentacle on the wall and immediately collapsing to the ground screaming is perhaps the most harry du bois experience i've had while playing

[quartzslab]

Ghostknife Moments Masterlist!

hiii so i relistened to pd for the second time cause this hiatus has been killing me (jrwi crew take your time, i'm just weak.) so i created a little doc for all the ghostknife moments i encountered! it was just for me and my friends but i wanted to post it too because sometimes even i forget they were really that gay (and also it's pride month)! here's the link to the doc! but i'm also gonna post screenshots of it as well for easier access.

some tips for reading cause it was made for me to understand and not an audience: if there's a quote with no indication of who's talking, it's either will or vyncent (also let me know if i missed moments or if i can make it easier to read!!!)

FINAL NOTES! this was made FOR FUN!!! it may be missing moments and also have moments that can be read as platonic. i just wanted to show my non-jrwi friend my hyperfixation PEACE AND LOVE

[alchemisticramblings]

chess tips from your local five hundred year old man

[thornescratch]

The Carlson, Backstrom, Eller and Connolly couples are all on vacation together!

[wynautwarrior]

Sketch before work

[rottmnt-residuum]

My very professional analysis of the cover

jkxjkzcxjddzsjzdnzdsdzjkjzfdccfz thank you for the professional analysis, the feedback is appreciated

[angfdz]

i feel so validated i just asked an artist if i what i was charging is alright and he was like just remember you're only getting 50% of this so double it. I was just going to absorb the loss!!!! god just. you know?!

[radioactivepeasant]

Free Day Friday: Viper continuation

Picking up from Here

Thrax scarcely recognized the city anymore. In the five years since his banishment for questioning the research into dark eco, he'd sort of assumed nothing would change, not really. But the Haven he crept through now was barely half of what he'd left behind. The slums were gone, replaced by gleaming modern architecture and locked behind force fields. He'd thought it was to keep the displaced rabble out until he saw the first metalhead lounging on a filthy street corner. Until he saw the crushed remains of the Stadium, the Grand Hotel, the museum-! The Palace District of Main Town was destroyed.

How far Praxis must have fallen before the end! Thrax found himself, to his surprise, hoping the old fool had met a hideous death at the hands of Damas’s pet demon. The count was right, he was an abomination, but that was more Praxis's fault than the monster's, to his mind. Praxis made it out of some kid who didn't get a say in the matter. In his own way, Thrax felt sorry for Jak. But sympathy for demons didn't get you far in life.

Bitterly cursing the cold, Thrax pulled his scarf higher and found himself turning down an alley in search of things to burn. He should have been home by now. Well, not home, his old penthouse from his days in the Guard had a support beam impaling the top three floors now. Somewhere better, perhaps, in New Haven. He'd even have accepted military barracks if it came with the proper pay and respect! That had been the promise, that was to be his reward: all that Praxis had stripped from him restored. And all he'd had to do was kill that weakling Damas.

Only, Damas wasn't a weakling anymore. He was as harshly pragmatic as Praxis had ever been. Ruler of a land of barbarians! It was madness! Honestly, Thrax would have been relieved to have Haven destabilize and assume control of the city. But now...now, he doubted Haven had anything close to the manpower that would require. No wonder assassination had been suggested instead!

And he'd failed, pure and simple.

Thrax was no fool, he knew his glorious homecoming was contingent on him holding up his end of the bargain. Still, he couldn't help a sullen thought that he might have succeeded if Veger hadn't sent the monster straight to Damas’s doorstep like a housewarming present.

There were two other people huddled around a barrel at the end of the alley, burning garbage for warmth. They didn't acknowledge him at first, until the light flickered off his tattoos. One of them swore and kicked at him.

"Get out of here!" The kick unbalanced him and his friend caught his elbow. "KG scum! Metal-lover! Go back to hell!"

Something grated high above their heads. The sound of a boot on a slate shingle. Even with the heat of the fire in his face, Thrax suddenly felt cold. What forgotten instinct warned him not to look up? That he had no time to look?

The shingles cracked.

Thrax ran.

For once, he was grateful for the grueling, brutal training Damas forced candidates to endure before he allowed them to enter the desert alone. A Havenite -- gods, when had he stopped thinking of himself as a Havenite? -- would never have been able to clear the fallen masonry, or the burnt-out husks of hellcats that littered the streets. A mantis-head took a swipe at him from the shadows of a fallen archway, and Thrax lost his footing as he dodged.

He landed hard, skidding down a short drop that had once been part of the road. In the two seconds required to pick himself up, Thrax saw what his instincts had been warning him about.

The monster. The child-soldier. Jak.

He leapt from the awning of what used to be a racing memorabilia shop, landing with a predatory grace that momentarily froze Thrax. His creepy talking Teacup Mine-rat hunched on his shoulder -- everyone said there was no such thing as Mine-rats having a teacup breed, but they were the only animal he'd ever seen with those proportions and that nauseating shade of orange -- watching him with those beady little eyes. In an almost careless move, the rat pointed out the mantis-head that had knocked Thrax down. The monster shot it in the head after only glancing in its direction.

The spell was broken. Thrax ran down the cracked and sunken crater that the road had become, desperately scanning the horizon for a place to hide. He was too far from New Haven -- not that the elite would have any compunction to help him when he'd failed his mission -- and he could see metalheads and those Krimzon robots blocking many of the avenues he could have used for escape. Stopping to shoot them would give the monster time to catch up.

Thrax knew what the abomination was capable of. He'd seen what happened to his co-conspirator. Dropped like a stone as they tried to flee, obsidian claws buried in the base of their skull while watched by the pitiless eyes of whatever evil spirit the boy had become. Would those same claws paralyze him, too? Drag him back to the desert to die or worse? Or would death be swift?

No, no he couldn't think like that. He had to escape. He had to hope for a way to kill the thing. Thrax charged into another alley, hoping against hope that a door would be open or unlocked. If he could get inside, his chances of survival would dramatically increase.

The Precursors, however, did not favor him that day.

The alley ended at a wall of twisted rebar and half melted plastics, fused together with foul acids secreted by the metalheads. A panicked whine escaped Thrax's throat as he whirled, already knowing what would be behind him.

But there was nothing.

That did not calm his nerves. Where was the creature? Thrax's eyes rolled back and forth, scanning every shadow. His breath came in shallow pants as he backed up, fumbling for his morph gun.

Then came the sound of boots on shingles again.

He had forgotten to look up.

Jak dropped silently, driving his knee into the fugitive's back. Thrax fell with a cry, gun clattering from his hand and onto the ruined cobblestones. He was under no obligation to bring Thrax back alive -- they'd gotten most of the information they needed out of the monk, Nadab. Damas had given him explicit permission to kill the would-be assassin if the situation warranted it. But at the same time, Jak had a suspicion. He was catching on to a greater trend of treachery within Haven, and he had a feeling Thrax knew who was behind it. All he needed was confirmation.

"Do your worst, abomination," Thrax gasped, clawing for any shred of courage he had left. "I do not fear death."

"Captain."

Thrax faltered. "What?"

Jak flipped him over so that their eyes met. His eyes were cold, and in the darkness, Thrax wondered in a daze how they could look so much like Damas’s.

"It's Captain Abomination. If you're going to insult me, do it properly."

The rat snickered and nudged his head encouragingly.

"Now you have a very small window of opportunity here," Jak growled. "You tell me who put Nadab in contact with you, and you get a chance to give up your beacon with a shred of honor intact. If you have a shred of honor left."

"This is a limited time offer," Daxter warned.

Trembling, Thrax repeated, "I do not fear death!"

Jak smiled, but there was no humor in it.

"Yes you do."

He was right.

[pipermintz]

There's two paths a man will take when he has an addiction to jerking off

- becoming a tradcath semen retention anti-porn guy

- becoming a chaos magician and swearing it's the best way to charge sigils

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

a couple of years back i was pretty vocal about not getting when people complained about their art not getting "enough" notes. but i'm getting to recognise a sub-category of that frustration these days that, in fairness, was maybe what people were talking about all along? but i've also seen other posts mention how fandom spaces feel changed since the last few years, so maybe it's a new thing or at least a thing that hadn't reached my fandom corner until now.

i truly don't mind if my writing doesn't garner a lot of attention (although i say this from a place of priviledge where my writing has so far always garnered some attention, and often a lot more than i anticipated). but what is really starting to grate a little is the amount of attention vs. the amount of reaction. For example, before the latest update on my big multichapter fic, it sat at ~ 33,050 hits. since then the fic has been clicked 400 times. the kudos count went up by maybe three and there were three new bookmarks - this isn't super surprising because i don't expect to be reaching a lot of new people with an unfinished 100+k word fic in a dwindling fandom, and if they're return readers they can't leave new kudos. but five people have commented on the fic since the update. One percent of readers who have clicked on this fic have reacted. Did all these people see it on the recently updated feed, started to read it, didn't vibe with it and moved on? That honestly wouldn't bother me. But it's been steadily gaining attention for the last few weeks, long after it moved off the first page of the recently updated view for the fandom. so rather, I think it's mostly subscribed users (the fic has a little over 400 active subscriptions so that would make sense) or people actively checking back on the fic. in which case they must be at least somewhat invested in it.

and again, i'm not owed any feedback. i put my work out for free and people decide what to do with that. but fandom is a collaborative space, and it's been feeling like less that for a while. people seem less ready for conversation, and i think that's sad, and quite demoralising for creatives (at least for me personally). fandom work isn't meant as bingeable content that you consume and then leave. if you do that on netflix, that's fine, because you're paying the platform and they're at least supposed to recompense the creatives who made the show you just watched. fandom artists don't get that. we make things for the love of it, and because we wanted to share that love. it doesn't feel like sharing though when you put something out there and nothing comes back. it feels like standing in an empty warehouse telling my stories to nobody. and, again, i'm personally lucky enough that it's not like that all the time, but i get why people stop doing it. and i get that engaging with art as an audience member doesn't come easy to everyone, but fandom culture needs it. it's supposed to be an exchange. it's supposed to go both ways, and i think if you want to sustain the culture, you simply need to try and give something back, whatever that is.

because putting something you made out there and nobody looks at it is definitely not a great feeling, but having anonymous masses file by and look at your thing and then meet you with deafening silence feels... worse.