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1ddotdhq · 4 years ago

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🍷Thurs 29 Oct ‘20🚙

Cam’s song Changes (written by Harry along with country singer-songwriter Lori McKenna and producers Kid Harpoon and Tyler Johnson) dropped in some parts of the world this morning, and it is LOVELY! It is a twangy country song about growing up and getting out of your hometown and seeing the world change and you with it. I really think Cam buried the lead when advertising this song, as the best lyric is clearly, “I was falling in love in a back seat, giving it away like my heart won’t ever break. Had such a young heart drinking cheap wine…”. Hmmm...does this sound familiar to anyone? Of course it does! Fans had a great time comparing this song to Fearless and We Made It (and, honestly, yes. I agree). But that is not enough music news for Harry: SiriusXM started releasing videos of Harry’s New York performance in February (whoa a lifetime ago), including Kiwi, Golden, and Lights Up. The performances are, as always, ELECTRIC, and I can’t wait to be able to see them live, eventually.

Zayn is back and he’s posting Better promotion on instagram (the song, not like...he’s doing a better job...oh, you know what I mean). He hasn’t blessed us with any more covers since yesterday, but he’s active, so I think we’ll be hearing more from him very soon….Maybe some of those songs he registered last month? Please???

All I want for Christmas is...for Liam to branch out and add Tech Expert to his resume alongside ‘YouTuber’ and ‘Tik Tok sensation’? Well, maybe that’s a hyperspecific demand, but it seems like I’m in luck! Liam will be joining the speaker line up of Web Summit 2020, which is a program which “brings together the people and companies redefining the global tech industry”. Liam *is* a recording tech expert, but that’s probably not what they tapped him - this is likely to do with the way he is putting on consistent and quality virtual concerts in a way that has massively transformed the potential for fan engagement in socially distant times. Congrats, Liam, because you’ve worked really hard! And he’s not done working! Liam took to instagram to call fans “detectives” for figuring out that his Christmas collaboration was Dixie D’Amelio, and promising “fun” leading up to the Holidays with “Dixie and her family” (uh, do you think that her parents are gonna be involved or just her super successful 16 year old Tik Tokker sister Charlie?). Anyways, as much as I would LOVE to say that we are indeed detectives (because we are!) , the credit for letting the cat out of the bag this time goes to Dixie herself, who posted a Tik Tok of her singing the song. This, on top of the speculation that already existed, was all the confirmation we needed to know what was happening. Liam also filmed a few episodes of a podcast Happy Hour with veteran YouTuber JaackMaate on his show, where he and his friends chat with people about their jobs and their lives in a relaxed way. And! If you bought tickets to LP Act 3, check your inbox - Liam has sent information on how to access the concert, and also some pre-emptive tech support links. I don’t know if that’s a good sign or a bad one.

Niall was, again, very busy with promo, appearing on Live with Ryan Secrest and hitting all of the Royal Albert Hall talking points we’ve been hearing, but he also took the time to interact with fans on Twitter! He tells us that he’s not going to be doing anything for Halloween (“can’t go anywhere in big groups”), that he loves Bruce Springsteen, and that he’ll do a live striptease if “Slow Hands” passes a billion streams by next week. Look, I know I keep saying this, but, uh #PLEASEdontstripitdownNiall. BUT! Do show us more of your skincare routine, which is what he did on insta: he posted a pic of himself in a facemask saying, “You’ll all be saying after RAH, ‘Niall you were glowing!’ and I’ll say… ‘I know’”.

And, Louis showed us how quickly he works when he has a goal in mind: after the unfortunate matter of merch shipping only to certain regions of the world yesterday, Backstreet Merch (the company in charge of his stuff) quickly took to twitter to say that, “We will be expanding our shipping zones to all of South America and India...within the next 48 hours.” And that’s exactly what happened! Not only that, Central America and Singapore are also on the list (catch ALL OF MY FAMILY rocking their Walls merch), although Mexico is not, and Backstreet Merch has said they have no current plans to ship to Mexico, which, hmmm. But look, I just gotta say that in 48 hours, Louis listened to his fans who have supported him (he sold out TWO stadiums in Argentina!) and quickly made his merch more accessible. Honestly, I love this man. And those countries certainly deserve it – can your country say Walls was its best selling album last week? Argentina can! Both Harry albums and Heartbreak Weather were also in the top ten.

However, I may have said good riddance to Celebtm too soon ( :{( ). TMZ has picked up their second mess of an article and is now distributing that. On top of this, Michael Straus has contacted both Judge Judy and the People’s Court to see if they can get some cable airtime and settle the small claim on TV - which, to be clear, Briana has to agree to, but it seems likely. Celebtm (despite saying yesterday they weren’t going to report on this until January when the court case happened, okaaaay) made a statement telling Briana to take the TV offers seriously so that Louis’ “child support” (quotes theirs, not mine) wouldn’t go to her legal fees. They went on to say, “We only see #onedirection here. To #EndIt on television and win your freedom to love ❤️ again with the next victim. Thank you #1DFamily for supporting #louistomlinson during these chaotic #1D times”. We DO support Louis, which is more than I can say for celebtm. It might bring a little thrill to see a media outlet proclaiming End It, but is it a good thing for Louis? No. This is happening because of the response they're getting and unless someone makes them (mark this down cause you won't see me saying this usually but omg LTHQ will you please get in here and shut this talk down?) they won't stop with this nonsense (see: yesterday's Larry Stylinson article) until the fans stop cheering them on. Speaking of nonsense on Instagram, Lou the golden retriever, the influencer dog fans headcanon-ed was the one HSHQ posted, decided he wanted a piece of the pie and has joined the swollen ranks of accounts falsely claiming a connection to Harry. There are many, including deuxmoi who post an endless stream of made up stories, but also the occasional credible sounding fan report such as yesterday's of Harry at a gym in the UK, and, um, WOW! It’s one of those fitness classes where you alternate your running pace to accelerate your heart rate, and the fan account claimed that Harry’s base pace (that is, comfortable running pace) is 10 mph, which is a 6 minute mile, or a 5k in 18 minutes. Uh, WHAT?? Guys, that’s it: I’m officially a stan, I love this man, and I want to go on a run with him.

#harry #zayn #niall #louis #okay a few things #i cannot tell you how much i dislike writing about the celebtm thing #i mean sometimes we have some really fun upbeat days (like today or Monday!)#then in comes celebtm and here we go again with this #like no <3 #i dont like it #and i want so many good things for Louis and this just seems to get messier and messier #and i want to reiterate that i dont want my posts reposted to instagram in particular right not #*now #we work hard on these but its for yall and for us not for some shitty gossip site #and they have proven to be really shitty #and yeah were asking for LTHQ to do something like PLEASE shut this convo down #also massive shout out to discourse without whom todays post would not have gone up #because i would have binned it the moment celebtm reopened their mouths #i love her lots #*her = discourse #and our blog titles match now !!! yay!!!#anyways!#song of the day!#Changes by Cam #because OF COURSE!!!!!

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alawaisi · 3 years ago

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ID: 102816

Date: May 10, 2021

Bringing interviews to life

Barbara Jill Walters (born September 25, 1929) is an American retired broadcast journalist, author, and television personality.[1][2] Known for her interviewing ability and popularity with viewers, Walters appeared as the host of numerous television programs, including Today, The View, 20/20, and the ABC Evening News. Walters was a working journalist from 1951 until 2015.

Walters began her career on The Today Show in the early 1960s as a writer and segment producer of women's interest stories. Her popularity with viewers resulted in Walters receiving more airtime, and in 1974, she became co-host of the program, the first woman to hold such a title on an American news program. In 1976, she continued to be a pioneer for women in broadcasting by becoming the first female co-anchor of a network evening news program, alongside Harry Reasoner on the ABC Evening News. From 1979 to 2004, Walters worked as a producer and co-host on the ABC newsmagazine 20/20. She also became known for an annual special aired on ABC, Barbara Walters' 10 Most Fascinating People

Walters created, produced, and co-hosted the ABC daytime talk show The View in 1997, on which she appeared until her retirement in 2014. Thereafter, she continued to host a number of special reports for 20/20 as well as documentary series for Investigation Discovery. Her final on-air appearance for ABC News was in 2015.

Walters was inducted into the Television Hall of Fame in 1989, and in 2007 received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. In 2000, she received a Lifetime Achievement Award from the National Academy of Television Arts and Sciences.

1- https://youtu.be/xQR5BzN4EKg?list=PLjoP5WBpAeS4do6w31o-PsTMnTlbybSa_

Lucille Ball & Barbara Walters: An Interview of a Life Time

The first interview was with Lucille Ball, the interview style was friendly. First Barbara started the interview with a very nice biography about her personal life and her working experience.

In the interview Barbra was clever in her selection of questions she used some deep personal questions. She used some smart questions; she used a friendly way of interviewing her guest.

Barbara Walters sits down with Lucy and Gary Morton. Barbara Walters asks the questions Lucy steered away from up until this point of her career on TV (post-I Love Lucy) Some say Lucy was uncomfortable with discussing her past life with her current husband, as she wanted to respect the present joys they had in their successful marriage, and giving it its own identity-It's definitely interesting to see Lucy a little stern with Barbara about her first marriage and tells the truth of how it was, and why it didn’t work. Barbara is wonderful and friendly but asks those good questions you have always wanted to know.

2- https://youtu.be/SZHc3zmtYdw?list=PLjoP5WBpAeS4do6w31o-PsTMnTlbybSa_

Barbara Walters Interview with Clint Eastwood 1982

The second interview was with Clint Eastwood, the interview style was friendly. First Barbara started the interview with a very nice biography about his personal life and his working experience.

Clint Eastwood did his best to throw Barbara Walters off of her interview game by flirting with her. It worked. She knew how to ask tough questions and get key information from her interview subjects. Walters sat down with Eastwood for 20/20 in 1982, discussing the rugged star's acting methods and romances at the height of his career and Walters was so charmed by the famously.

I think Clint was very comfortable in the interview while Barbra was uncomfortable for some emotional reasons.

3- https://youtu.be/E499RlpyOEk?list=PLjoP5WBpAeS4do6w31o-PsTMnTlbybSa_

Sandra Bullock interview in Barbara Walters Special 2010

The third interview was with Sandra Bullock, the interview style was friendly. First Barbara started the interview as usual with a very nice biography about her personal life and her working experience.

Barbara Walters falls into the classic trap of letting Sandra's credibility as an actress begin with Blind Side, and according to Walters, it seems that a credible actress must be a "serious artist", whereas Sandra's credibility as a comedienne was already firmly established long before Blind Side arrived, and she was already a credible actress, because a great comedienne is of course a great artist, and that's about as "serious" as it needs to get

Both of them were feeling comfortable, as the interview was friendly and full of laughs and jokes.

4- https://youtu.be/NRz--1LstNc?list=PLjoP5WBpAeS4do6w31o-PsTMnTlbybSa_

Ronald Reagan interviewed by Barbara Walters on 20/20

The fourth interview was with the American president Ronald Reagan who looked very quiet and peaceful showing his respect and welcome to the US audience, the interview style was very formal due to his position as a president but the environment was very friendly.

Barbara Walters hosts this warm personality study of President Ronald Reagan, which features Reagan working on and touring his California ranch, the type of questions were mostly friendly about his interests, his sanctuary and his personal life.

Reagan was very cheerful that he made Barbra feel comfortable.

5- https://youtu.be/gF_-KGBexLk?list=PLjoP5WBpAeS4do6w31o-PsTMnTlbybSa_

Barbara Walters Interviews Johnny Carson in 1984

The fifth interview was with Johnny Carson, the style of the interview was formal and friendly because Carson was very friendly.

He seems to put so much effort into each expression. She was an amazing interviewer. I mean, just look at what she got him to reveal here (and Carson was about as tight lipped about personal matters as they get). Barbara has a way of looking a guest in the eye and speaking with them that gives them the freedom to reveal and communicate intimacies, as opposed to how they might with your cookie-cutter "sensational" interviewer.

I think that Carson was not feeling comfortable in some parts of the interview.

Larry King (born Lawrence Harvey Zeiger; November 19, 1933 – January 23, 2021) was an American television and radio host, whose awards included two Peabodys, an Emmy and ten Cable ACE Awards. He hosted over 50,000 interviews.

King was a radio interviewer in the Miami area in the 1950s and 1960s, and gained prominence in 1978 as host of The Larry King Show, an all-night nationwide call-in radio program heard on the Mutual Broadcasting System. From 1985 to 2010, he hosted the nightly interview television program Larry King Live on CNN. King hosted Larry King Now from 2012 to 2020, which aired on Hulu, Ora TV, and RT America. He hosted Politicking with Larry King, a weekly political talk show, on the same three channels from 2013 to 2020. King also appeared in television series and films, usually playing himself.

1- https://youtu.be/TNnCN0BwUww

Interview: Larry King Interviews Donald Trump on Larry King Now, on October 4, 2013

The first interview was with Donald Trump, the interview style was formal. First King started the interview with a very brief introduction about him.

In the interview Larry was clever in his selection of questions he used some deep political questions. He was very smart in selecting the questions; he used a friendly way of interviewing his guest.

In the interview, Larry covered most of the US problems and how Trump is going to face them the most important part was when Trump was just trying to get through this whole time is his country is weak because they put their nose in other countries business they fund other countries they walk on them. The peace treaty that was signed years ago was probably misinterpreted by polotitions today.

Larry is wonderful and friendly but asks those good questions you have always wanted to know.

2- https://youtu.be/YNSoOM4Nq6g

Larry king interview Vladimir Putin

The second interview was with the Russian BM president Vladimir Putin, the interview style was Formal. First Larry started the interview with warm greetings and went directly into questions.

Larry asked Putin several questions almost he covered most of the important worldwide issues from north Korea to Iran to the relations between America and Russia even he asked him about some internal Russian problems.

Larry was very smart and professional in choosing his questions also Putin was a very quiet person and smart in answering all the questions.

I think the interview was uncomfortable for both of them.

3- https://youtu.be/53uC0A4il8k

Larry King / Natalie Portman on Late Night (1994)

The third interview was with Natalie Portman, the interview style was very friendly. First Larry started the interview as usual with a warm welcome.

 Natalie was such an intelligent young woman. She's already so aware of social dynamics at age 13. Notice how she laughs to make others feel comfortable and well received, and not just laughing because a joke is funny. Both of them were feeling comfortable, as the interview was friendly and full of laughs and jokes.

The interview was very comfortable for all of them that the audience can`t stop laughing at her.

4- https://youtu.be/Gu0mypIa-rk

Monica Lewinsky on Larry King Live

The fourth interview was with Monica Lewinsky who looked very quiet and peaceful showing, the interview style was very friendly.

I really like how Larry handled this interview. He did not grill or berate her. He asked good questions and let her explain herself. Monica very obviously has a good mind. However, like many of us, she made foolish choices in her youth. She is not the only, not the first, and not the last to be charmed by a predator and overawed by the trappings of power. She is so brave and so beautiful even though she has been through hell at this point. Larry was very professional in this interview.

Monika was very comfortable in answering all these questions.

5- https://youtu.be/u_29DHdH_ig

Stan Lee Discusses his Career, Movie Cameos & Bonding with Marvel Actors

The fifth interview was with Stan Lee, the style of the interview was formal and friendly because Lee was very friendly.

Marvel icon, Stan Lee, sits down with Larry for a rare, in-depth interview at Lee’s Beverly Hills office to discuss everything from his big new ‘X-Men’ cameo to the new Chinese super hero he is creating.

I absolutely love how this interview takes place between two old timers who probably grew up in the same era. Stan doesn't even care about the money, he's just extremely glad so many people are connecting with the characters he helped create! In every interview, he makes sure to thank the artists.

The choose of questions was very smart from Larry. He seems to put so much effort into each expression. She was an amazing interviewer.

I think that Carson was not feeling comfortable in some parts of the interview.

Evaluation

What I have learnt from both the interviewers was the way you host someone, the type of questions you can ask and when, also how to change the interview into a friendly interview.

The way you look at your guest and the body language you use to make him feel comfortable

For Barbra I like the way she is introducing her guest and the warm up she makes at the beginning of each interview.

And for Larry he is very professional in starting and involving his guest into the interview I like him the most.

Both of them are considered two of the greatest interviewers in the world they are called as softball interviewers.

#Jourapplication_21 #Mass_3114_21

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imagineclaireandjamie · 5 years ago

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Any HRH coming soon? Absolutely in love with this fic and these two. Your writing is out of this world and I can't wait for where this story is going, it's SO SO SO SO GOOD.

This is my submission for the One Quote, One Shot challenge by @notevenjokingfic and @balfeheughlywed. The quote assigned to me (@missclairebelle) was: “Leave, then,” he said, jerking his head toward the door. “If that’s what ye think of me, go! I’ll not hinder ye.” Happy reading!

Her Royal Highness (H.R.H.)Part XX: Cuffed

It was Sunday night.

The weekend was behind Jamie and Claire (along with all of the possibilities those short hours held).

For another five nights, the cabin was behind them.

When he’d left her (fingers tangling in her hair and holding her face within inches of his, the fronts of their bodies melted together until all that separated their hearts was skin and clothes and bone), he’d whispered, “We should talk about what comes next.”

Alone as the hollow bong bong bong of the grandfather clock just outside her bathroom announced the arrival of ten o’clock, Claire sank into the bath (feeling utterly boneless) and closed her eyes.

She ached everywhere.

Between her legs where Jamie’s hips had lived throughout the preceding forty-eight hours.

Deep in her belly where a new emptiness had taken up residence.

Along the centerline of her shoulder blades where she had winched herself up from the sleeping bag on their impromptu camping trip as he closed a hand over her breast, his mouth a molten, sucking thing at her throat.

At the base of her skull where his parting words echoed (residing like an unwelcome companion to her every thought).

What comes next…

These parts of her. She knew they would continue to burn, to feel like they had been pulled taut long after dawn came and she again was the Queen, not Just Claire.

She didn’t just know that these incidental aches would remind her of their time (those precious, disconnected hours where they had blissfully lived without answering to another), she hoped that they would.

A reminder. A brand. A place for Fraser to dwell under her skin, close to the bone, twined together with the nerves and veins and vessels that made her human.

Relishing the promise of weightlessness in her bath, she lazily watched as she willed her arms to go limp and bob up from beneath the placid lavender-scented surface.

“I love you, Jamie Fraser,” she said, taking in a mouthful of milky-white bathwater. It was the first time she’d said it aloud in the bounds of her own room, in the palace where she lived for a portion of the summer. The emptiness in her belly filled (just for a moment), her heart skipped (just for one-half of one beat). She let her mouth rise up from beneath the water, drew breath, and whispered it again. “I love you, Jamie Fraser.”

Smiling to herself, she perched her feet on the edge of the tub and sank until her entire head was underwater.

She had never known it was possible to smile while screaming.

The next morning, the palace was alight with a flurry of activity as her staff prepared to depart for Balmoral.

It was the traditional second leg of the Crown’s summer in Scotland.

She was ready.

For the change in her environment (salted air and open places).

For the change in pace (the unending liveliness of Edinburgh left behind, stables where it would not be unusual for her to wander off for a ride throughout the day and disappear onto the grounds, more casual clothes, fewer official duties).

For the opportunity to put to good use the corridor between her staff’s living quarters and her own (nights in dressing gowns, trying and failing to hold back laughter as she pawed her way down dimly-lit hallways with Fraser, grabbing greedily for his waistband).

It was just as she finished gathering the things she wanted from her desk on Monday morning that Mrs. Fitz furiously blew into the study with a newspaper clutched in her hand.

“Yer Majesty,” she breathed, her voice reedy from exertion. Claire looked up from the handful of correspondence (from said Colonel) that she was banding together with a floral-printed silk scarf, nodded. Mrs. Fitz winced as the door swung shut, slamming behind her. “Colonel Fraser isna here… he’s been– weel… he’s been…”

Nonplussed, Claire asked, “Where is he?”

“Jail, ma’am.”

If given a hundred opportunities to guess where Colonel Fraser was, she was certain she would never have guessed the answer. With a spinning head and dropping stomach, Claire’s mouth tried for words, her soft palate becoming that of an infant (an obstruction in the process of trying out new sounds).

“For… what?” she managed, tripping over her words and resting her trembling hands on the edge of her desk as she rose.

Mrs. Fitz held up the newspaper, adding, “Ye need to ken somethin’ else.”

Claire took the folded paper from Mrs. Fitz and scanned its contents quickly.

It was a moment that Claire would come to think of as her death.

The article was lengthy, accompanied by photographs.

An official state photograph of Claire with Frank at the announcement of their engagement (her smile tight to her own eyes, back ramrod straight beneath his hand).

A snapshot taken of Claire by Frank in Norway (one she remembered him taking by virtue of the fact that she was seeing the photograph in print). She was cocooned in a chunky woolen knit and denim and sitting on a mountain of pillows reading in front of a fireplace.

A portrait of sorts of her ring, onyx and diamonds (one that sat in the palace museum open to the public in London along with various bits of ceremonial regalia in the service of the Crown over the years).

A grainy image of the ring next to the insignia of the local police force and two rulers (the word “RECOVERED!” beneath it screaming up from the page at once like both a howl of pain and nails on a chalkboard).

“What is this?” Claire asked, knowing as she clutched her ring finger and realized for the first time that the ring was gone.

“Ma’am, I… they… have him.”

Like a leaf in the earliest gasps of autumn, the news clipping drifted down down down until it came to rest on the desk.

“The police. He was arrested when he arrived home… from dropping ye off last night.”

The questions, exclamations, profanity scuttling around in her head fought with her lungs for airtime. The only thing that came out, though, was a choking gasp, like food gone down the wrong pipe or grief that became too much for a body to shelter. It sounded like his name.

Suddenly, she realized that screaming “I love you” underwater was not at all like the feeling of drowning inside yourself while standing on dry land.

Jamie.

In decidedly less accommodating quarters across the city, James Fraser was contemplating the fact that he had spent many nights in a German war prison.

This, with its butter-yellow slivers of sunshine, watery, lukewarm tea, and scratchy blankets, was nothing.

Bowing his head, he sighed.

After saying goodbye to Claire (his heart, his reason), he had not even made it to the door of his flat before his hands were wrenched behind his back and secured in handcuffs. His wrists stinging from the overly-aggressive slap of metal, he asked what it was that the officers (three of the local police force’s finest and three uniformed palace guards) believed he had done.

A ring had been stolen from the Queen’s private collection.

His mind whirled, the denial spilling easily (truthfully) from his lips as his head bowed (a ring? the Queen’s private collection? when? was it found?). One officer shoved Jamie’s head low and folded him into the backseat of an unmarked, nondescript black car. The insult hurled at him by one of the officers of the Queen’s guard (“ye piece of shite, ye’ve no loyalty”) coincided with his decision that under no circumstances would he ask to speak with Claire.

Oh Christ, Claire. Certainly, she would know that this was a lie, right? A misunderstanding?

The night was long, and he did not manage to sleep more than a wink or two. His bladder ached shortly before dawn, and he took a piss in the small silver portable urinal on the corner desk. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he shook his head. His weekend of stubble had seemingly devolved into a fully disreputable-looking shading along his jaw.

“At least ye look the part if ye’re in the clink,” he mumbled to himself, finishing and setting the urinal back on the desk. “And now ye smell like piss.”

In the amber haze of lost time, a day coiled around and around outside of the jail until the sun was high in the morning sky. Inside the jail, as he sipped the watery tea and ate a bowl of gritty porridge, he composed a letter to Claire (in his mind only, for he was in want of a pen and a scrap of paper). He spoke to the walls, counting the painted bricks, and found in the truth what he hoped he would be able to say to her (he didn’t take her ring, had no clue what ring had been stolen, he would give anything to see her, to explain).

Based on the angle of sun cutting through the small window, he presumed it was around midday. It was then that the metal-on-metal scraping clunk in the pass-through got him to his feet. Though he had been in jail for less than half a day, Jamie knew what role had been preordained for him. He turned, took three awkward steps backward to the pass-through, slipped his hands through the small opening, and winced as the cuffs slapped closed over his already-bruised wrists.

Two minutes and a long walk down a damp hallway later, the guard deposited Jamie in a sparse room with a desk (an uneven, wobbling thing with one too-short leg), a morning edition of the day’s newspaper (disassembled into various sections and reshuffled together in an uneven, ragged manner), an abused collection of paperback books (though missing their covers and title pages, Jamie could tell that they were the type of classical literature he could quote from memory), a telephone (he could not think of a single person who he wanted to speak with who he knew how to contact; the only person he wanted and needed to speak to was beyond unreachable), and a mismatched set of hand weights on a rubber mat.

“Ye’ve got an hour, Fraser.”

Jamie offered a lame smile and held his breath until the barred door to the room closed.

Seated, he paged aimlessly through a few books, his attention catching only long enough for the titles to register and immediately fall out of his brain.

He did a few bicep curls with the heavier of the two weights, and then turned to the newspaper.

He read a story about a man in London who was sentenced to death after eight bodies were found in his Notting Hill home. He read about a series of science fiction novels being made into a multi-part television program. And then he found what was ostensibly the first page of the newspaper.

His eye was drawn to the headline first (RECOVERED!).

And then the photograph – the ring with its onyx and diamonds.

Claire’s ring.

The photograph did what the mere mention of the ring had not. It brought the mental image of it sitting on that bathroom counter to mind. His heart sank. He had not seen it on her hand since, had not felt the cool metal of it resting heavily on his chest as she slept or watched her wrench it back onto her delicate finger before returning from the camping trip.

He rose and dialed the number without thinking.

And when his sister answered on the third ring, he fought the instinct to weep.

“Jen,” he breathed, all the air evacuating his lungs.

“Mallaichte bas!” Jenny hissed. “I’ve been callin’ ye nonstop. Maggie found a ring at the cabin, and the police called. I tried to–”

“I’m in jail,” he interrupted. “They think I stole it.”

Against the silence of the line, he swallowed, used her Christian name, bowed his head against the wall.

A denial would mean that the ring was there because she had been there. Save the truth (a sordid, torrid tale), there was no good reason for the Queen to have been there (in that damp ramshackle cabin with the tilted porch adjacent to a town that barely warranted a dot on a map of Scotland). And he could not do that to her – to expose her to the shaming of a country (her country).

“Aye,” Jenny confirmed, a whisper. “They think that ye stole it, that ye stashed it at the cabin.”

“Do ye think I stole it?”

His eyes closed as he waited for his sister’s response. For some reason it mattered to him (deeply) that his sister not think him a thief, that he had someone who could hear the truth, not judge him.

“I ken ye are no’ a thief, brathair, which means she was… there… in the cabin. And there’s precisely one reason that I can think of her being there wi’ ye, for the sheets to be mussed in only one bedroom as they were.”

Jamie sank a thumbnail into a sliver of missing mortar between the bricks, watched the surface crumble beneath the slightest pressure.

“I didna steal it, Jen, and she’s in a bad situation if it was there, she canna be runnin’ around wi’ me –”

“What will ye do?” she broke in, knowing in her gut that her brother (the noble, self-sacrificing one who refused to let his niece go without new shoes for the fall or his nephew go without a book to read by the lake) already had a plan. He had called to see if he could fill in a blank, to figure out what had gone sideways and how. And now he had a plan.

“I’m going to tell them that I took it at the state dinner where it…”

A breath. Another. The feeling of a heart cracking, of the nebulous promise of forever evaporating.

“It’s where it started, ye ken. A dinner. I found her, and I…

“Oh, Jamie,” Jenny sighed, her voice taking on the tone he knew his sister reserved for barn kittens and her own bairns. “Ye love her, don’t ye–”

“The ring. I’ll say I took it. That she didna ken.”

And that was that.

He was going to confess.

Hours later, Jamie had penned a lengthy statement about his theft. Idly, he wondered if it could be considered treason when it was property of the Crown. Had he confessed to something more than snagging something shiny? He folded the pages, tucked them into an envelope, and sent them away with the guard to transmit to the court. In the morning, he would see a solicitor and a magistrate. He would try to make this as easy as possible for her (for his Sassenach Queen, his Claire, his everything). His confession would mean there was no statement from her necessary. All that was required would be an official notice from whoever wrote such things that her staff had trusted the wrong man, and that there was no remaining threat to the property of the Crown.

The Crown Equerry would be but a fading memory, an empty position to be filled by some other mildly-competent horse lover.

He was settling onto his back, his legs crossed at the ankles and his hands behind his head, when the hollow crack of a baton sounded down the hall. “They tell me that ye’ve got a visitor, Fraser,” the jail guard said gruffly, plainly disgruntled that his evening of lounging with feet up on a desk had been disrupted. “Some sort of special case, but they dinna tell me anythin’, just that ye’re to come up. Come suit up.”

For the second time that day, his hands were cuffed, and he made his way down the long hall. He was transferred to the custody of two members of the Royal Guard. His heart began a Titanic-like descent to the bottom of the icy ocean of his stomach.

Claire.

It was a pipe dream, he thought, but when he entered the room she was in the corner. Her back was to him and her head tipped back, loosely pinned curls falling to the back of her sweater.

“Uncuff him,” she demanded before turning on her heel, eyes like kindling ready to spark. As one of the guards began to stumble for words, she snapped, “Immediately. I did not stutter.”

“I dinna have the keys, Yer Majesty, I-”

“Find them.” The guards turned to one another. “And you will leave to do so.”

“Ma’am, are ye sure–”

Claire squared her shoulders, crossed her arms over her stomach. “If you do not leave this instant I will have both of your jobs.”

As though connected to one another by a string, both guards nodded and left them. It was only a moment before one was back with the key to free Jamie from the handcuffs.

Claire nodded, raising her chin towards the door until the guard stepped through the threshold.

“And the door. Shut it. Do not enter again unless expressly authorized to enter after knocking by me.”

When the door clicked shut, Claire’s face melted and she took two steps, firmly planting herself against his chest and winding her arms around him. “Oh Christ, Jamie. Are you okay?”

He fought the urge to embrace her, to draw her close and inhale the soft elderflower and bergamot scent that lingered like springtime in the gentle indentation where her shoulder met her neck. He remained limp in her arm, one hand traveling to the back of his neck. He swallowed, made an anemic attempt to pull back from her ferocious embrace. “Ye’re no’ wearin’ the ring that I stole–”

“Do not dare joke right now, Fraser,” she snapped, holding him tighter, kissing him on the jaw. “We are going to come clean. I am going to get you out of here. I have my staff working with the police on it.”

Pulling back, she smoothed a hand over his jaw, tested the stubble just above his chin with her thumb.

“You have no clue how hard it is for even the Queen to get someone out of a Scottish jail. Your kind are brutally stubborn, Fraser.”

He fought the urge to smirk, to agree with her, to joke back that it was what she loved most about him. Humming, he let his nose nudge a curl from her temple, to allow his hands to rest at the small of her back just where her flesh started to swell up into the familiar curve of her arse. “Claire, we canna ‘come clean,’ to use yer words.”

He watched the delicate line of her throat as she swallowed, the gentle lift and fall of her collarbones under the exhalation before she finally said, “What?”

“I canna do that to ye. To make loving me a scandal.”

“Jamie…”

Her voice was tremulous, tears transparent in their threat to rim her lower eyes, to fall down those round cheeks.

Jamie said nothing.

The first tear fell, then the next, and a third, and then her chin trembled as she pursed her lips.

He had expected tears, expected her to cry. He was no fool. He knew that the love she felt for him was infinite in an unbounded, inarticulate way, that the threat of losing that love would devastate her. But he also knew that the love she felt for her country was ancient, a blood right that existed for her long before either of them had existed as an abstract longing in their parents’ eyes, before their parents and their parents’ parents had been conceived or born. He had fought for Queen and country, put his life on the line for it.

“Fraser… stop.”

With the flat of his thumb, he collected tears and wiped them away, fighting the urge to kiss her where the wet tracks made the powder on her cheeks disintegrate.

For her part, Claire felt the whimper building in her guts, fighting to come out so that the world could know that this was her second death of the day, that she was losing everything. Instead, she squared her shoulders, shook her head. “You cannot possibly be ashamed of me, and you cannot possibly think you’re doing me a favor.”

“We are no’ ready to be public–”

“–we would never be ready to be public, Fraser.”

“I’m no’ the type that ye can marry, and I–”

“You are wrong. You are precisely the type that I can marry. I love you.”

“I couldna do this to ye, to subject ye to rumors. That ye carried on an affair, that ye came to that cabin to fuck me. Your reputation would be ruined, and–”

She started to laugh, her body wracking against him as she started to cough. “You don’t love me. Is that it?”

“Don’t be daft,” he muttered, shaking his head as he used a word he had adopted from her vocabulary. “It’s got nothing to do wi’ how much I love ye, Claire.”

“And yet you do not want a life with me, a life for us to make our own?”

“It’s to protect ye, Claire. Ye canna be the leader that we need if the noise of me drowns ye out–”

“You will not even try then? To make a life with me, to try to exist in the world I have to live in. You do not want to fight for us?”

“Ye ken that’s no’ it. I canna make it any clearer for ye, Claire. I canna let ye walk away from yer entire life for me.”

“Oh, you have made it abundantly clear, Fraser.” She straightened the edge of her cardigan, shook her head. She opened her clutch and dabbed carefully at the tears on her cheeks. “You are a coward.”

He pulled back from her, shook his head as he bit down on his lower lip. “Leave, then,” he said, jerking his head toward the door. “If that’s what ye think of me, go! I’ll not hinder ye.”

It was the parting glance that she gave him that finished him off – a once over with defeated eyes, glowing amber and storming with anger, disappointment, heartbreak.

“Goodbye, Fraser,” she whispered as she took her clutch under her arm.

“Claire, I…”

His voice faded.

She was already gone.

#crookedfestivalalmondknight #one quote one shot #HRH #Her Royal Highness AU #jamie x claire #Part XX #;mod kate

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thelreads · 5 months ago

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I mentioned her at the first one, but mostly because I just brushed over the topics I think would hypothetically be interesting to tweak and change, but yeah she needs a bit more care in the store. I don't know if a power-up would fit her since she's not pushing her quirk forward like Koichi was supposed to be doing, she was always in the back because she doesn't really want to be involved with the vigilantes' business, she's there to help her crush. I would probably just give more mentions of her alerting people and directing evacuation of areas around villains.

The thing is, we see Pop quirk under the influence of massive amounts of trigger, and it's sort of... underwhelming. Her quirk is to jump and slightly slow down her fall without hurting herself as long as she jumps from a solid surface, and when she becomes the queen the only difference (which is not even mentioned, you have to assume that this is happening from the panels) is that she can stay up in the air longer by slowing down her fall longer, and perhaps the height of her jump was increased, but again, you don't actually know if that was the case because they never touch at her limitations.

So, the first thing to do would put down some limitations on her quirk. The height of her jump be a bit shorter, enough for her to get up buildings and from one place to another at most, the amount of time she can stay up in the air before having to come down be shorter, a few seconds at most, and the speed at which she falls be limited so she can't abuse it and increase her airtime. We could even make her jumps being taxing on her, longer or higher jumps needing her to sort-of charge the longer/higher it is, and making her lose her breath in case she abuses it, or even make her legs hurt. We could even make her be able to push a bit further but running the risk of hurting herself, or make so the slowing down when she falls be not based on a specific speed, but an specific time.

Example given, let's say her slow down time is capped at a max of 10 seconds, this means that no matter the height she goes up, the way down will always take at most 10 seconds. She can come down faster, but not slower, so if she jumps 10 meters or 1 meter, she will need to touch the down at a limit of 10 seconds. She can make down faster, in 9, 5, or even 1 second, but never more than 10. This will will expand on her floating when she jumps, and makes it a trade-off between the two sides, because she can go longer, but considering she will come down in ten seconds, she can seriously hurt herself because the quirk protects her legs from the impact, but if she comes down too fast she can lose her balance and hit the ground not with her feet but with her face.

This way, with her moving around more and more to keep up with Koichi she would slowly notice that she's managing to jump longer, higher, she needs less time to charge up the bigger ones, and even slowly increasing the time on the way down to 11, 12, 15 seconds. This would show that by trying to keep up with Koichi she herself is making her quirk better.

Then, when she becomes the queen and her body has more trigger than blood, shit would really get serious. She can now jump absurd distances, her jumps need no charge up so she can do them virtually instantaneously and in fact, the amount of solid surface she needs to touch to activate it became so tiny she can now jump out of air molecules, and, to make things even harder for Koichi, when once before her speed while on air was not that fast, now she's as fast as it can be, which, when added to the other mentioned characteristics, make it seem like she's teleporting around because she jumps and comes down in the next spot almost instantaneously. This would make her almost a foil of Overclock even though she doesn't have the reaction time to freeze time from her perspective.

Hell, have her have a natural enhanced reflex as part of her quirk to make sure she always lands on her feet, which would be vastly improved when under trigger. There. Now she and McBee even look like an evil duo with similar powers, and if that plot point about turning her into a villain just to take her down ever was brought up (spoilers, it wouldn't) it would make it an actual interesting thing, like Syndrome in the incredibles, a foe that only he could hope to match, and who Koichi would actually have to face off in speed.

Oh boy I got a bit too into it there- See, this is what I saved y'all from in the previous post, every single topic would be like that if I gave in lol

Anyway, about the ending I can't say much what it would be, because first I need to see what the ending of this would be like and see if I feel like it was satisfactory enough or if/what changes would be needed. So that I refrain from hypothetically answering now.

I think that's also in high demand. In the first few chapters it did seem like they were closer than after the time skip. Koichi and her hang around town more while doing their shticks, Koichi even sort of helped her a few times. They really needed to be friends more even with pop having that hidden crush on him, I really wanted them getting into more trouble.

One sub-plot I think would be cool would have Koichi actually help pop in her singer job. She's a student with a secret double life as a singer, there's no way she's managing to balance both of those, she's either lagging behind in her class or she's messing up and feeling like she's not doing enough progress on her dream and the pressure is getting to her.

Koichi, noticing that, becomes her manager, in a way, and in-between his university, his half-time jobs and his vigilante gigs, manages her social media, scouts venues for her to sing, promotes her shows by making posters and putting them around the neighborhood in places he knows the police doesn't go through or in his university, poster that would look awful because he has no talent in drawing but which Pop finds lovely and perfect. Pop can even confront him about it saying he's doing too much for her to dump this responsibility on him and he can say that helping other's is part of who he is, not because he wanted to be a hero, but because he's her friend, and since she already needs to practice and comes up with lyrics and all that, if they share the load them it will be easier for them to carry it.

Also, Koichi would need to answer fan email, and I can see him sucking at it at first because he can't write cutesy pop stuff but then later becomes it becomes so ingrained into it that it accidentally slips when he's talking to someone and said person stares at disbelief at the tired boy answering back in almost uwu speech without batting an eye.

Hypothetically speaking, of course.

You know, now that I'm approaching the end of vigilantes, that wish to rewrite it in a fanfiction grows stronger.

Not even in a "I could do better" way, more in a "there was a lot of potential that wasn't explored there and I want to see what I can do with it and if it could work." Just tweak a few personalities and plot points, perhaps expand on some periods where nothing important happened, minor stuff with long-term ramifications.

Of course that remains in the hypothetical, I still haven't delivered that Spy x Family fanfic I was planning, but that was because I was planning on doing it cannon compliant and mix it with the theories I had, like that Henderson was a troublemaker that learned elegance with a teacher who he admired and that Martha and him were married or at least dated before they broke up.

I now need to find a new non-confirmed story plot thread to focus on.

Hypothetically speaking, of course.

#theLreads #inbetween #personal #ask #purely hypothetically speaking #of course

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himbowelsh · 4 years ago

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Jet lag & Webgott. I know the theme is PAIN but can I request something mildly to very funny??

a little fall of meme can hardly hurt me now ( accepting )

‘make it funny,’ you say, at which point i instantly forget the concept of humor

By this point, David has become fluent in Joe’s bitching, whichever language it’s voiced in.

It’s an acquired skill — frankly, one he could have lived his entire life without acquiring — but knowing where Joe stands makes navigating their relationship a lot easier. When it comes to the little things, Joe wears his heart on his sleeve. If he doesn’t like a particular TV show, he’ll say it… loudly. When it’s snowing, he’ll agonize about it until David’s tempted to shove him outside and lock the door; when it’s too hot, he’ll strip without shame, hissing like a disgruntled cat all the while. By now, they’ve been dating long enough that David knows Joe like a familiar book, leafed through a hundred times over. Sure, sometimes he could do without all that context, but a working knowledge of Joe’s quirks makes dealing with him that much easier.

Joe Fact #263: He can’t stand long flights.

It’s not like he’s a nervous flier. He’s just… a lot to handle. Part of it has to do with Joe’s inherent restlessness, a genetic predisposition to never hold still for more than a minute; part of it is just Joe’s talent for being annoying. And he can be… really, really annoying. Damned obnoxious. He doesn’t read, he’s hardly interested in the movies — he just spends the entire flight complaining. Why can’t he get WiFi? Why can’t he order another gin and tonic? Why are the seats so lumpy? Why do you want me to close the window, Web, look at this view, it’s priceless —

Having the window open makes him air sick. Joe knows this.

It’s not a massive problem, but during any long flight, it becomes an inevitable one. Queasiness is just another thing Joe gets to complain about on long flights. Part of David thinks it’s all a ploy; an excuse to get up and move around the cabin, even if it’s just to hide out in the bathroom and try to get WiFi signal.

To be fair — on their trip to the Amalfi coast, when Joe had to sprint to the bathroom mid-flight and stayed there for over an hour, he probably wasn’t faking it.

Flying with Joe is unbearable for everyone involved… so when Joe announces his new solution, David’s optimistic. They’re two days out from a trip to Hawaii when Joe reveals a bottle of air sickness pills — apparently “the best they sell on the whole Internet, Web, I checked.”

David’s skeptical. “Are you… sure you can’t just make it?”

Joe huffs, genuinely offended by the question. “Fine! This time I’ll just blow chunks all over you. In-flight entertainment’s gonna be The Exorcist. How about that, Web? Fuck.”

David rolls his eyes — but he doesn’t argue anymore. At the time, it seems like a testament to his self-control.

Oh, how naive he was.

The pills make it through customs in their carry-on bag — something Joe gloats about for the next half hour, like he’s just pulled one over on the government, even though David looked it up and medication is allowed on planes. While waiting for their flight, Joe insists on Cinnabon. Insists, like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted. He pouts, he pleads, and finally he just tows David over to the stall without any forewarning and sits him down at one of the tables. (Joe Fact #312: Arguing with Joe while he’s got a pastry craving is like reasoning with a brick wall.)

The cinnamon bun in front of Joe is larger than your average infant. “You ever heard of ‘tempting fate’?” David can’t help but ask around his own mouthful of pastry.

Joe reaches over and smears frosting on his chin.

Without any delay, they make it on their flight in record time. Joe waits until they’re sitting, buckled in and watching the flight attendant go through safety procedures, to dig the pill bottle from his bag. A strange sense of unease churns David’s stomach, though he can’t for the life of him say why. Joe glances over, smirking; as David watches, he pops the two pills and swallows them dry.

“There. This flight’ll be smooth sailing.”

With four and a half hours of airtime ahead of them, David can only pray.

Joe’s not the researching sort — that goes without saying — but David has always been. He never takes a medication without looking up the full list of side effects in advance. When, twenty minutes into the in-flight movie, Joe’s head starts to loll against his shoulder, he’s not surprised.

“You alright?” he murmurs, turning just enough to speak the words softly into his boyfriend’s temple. Joe shifts, sighing heavily, and tries to straighten up again. It’s more effort than it’s worth.

“Might just end up sleeping through this thing,” he mutters. “Movie’s a snorefest anyway.”

It’s some movie about a dog. Neither of them have been really paying attention. “Okay,” David replies, keeping his tone casual. “That’s fine, just… get some rest.”

Joe shifts in his seat, making himself more comfortable. For about ten minutes, David stays very still. He doesn’t move; he doesn’t fidget; he doesn’t even breathe loudly.

When he looks over again, Joe’s dead to the world.

Oh, thank god.

David tilts his head back to grin at the ceiling, fist pumping the air without a sound — definitely earning a few sideways glances from other passengers, but he doesn’t care. Finally. After all this time, all this anticipation —

There’s no time to waste. He rummages through the carry-on at his feet, emerging with three large books, and headphones dangling from between his fingers. David drops his tray table, sets up his classical music Spotify playlist, cracks open the first book, and orders a Bloody Mary.

Peace at last.

The amount of long flights he’s endured through Joe’s whining… the amount of poking he’s had to deal with, the amount of dirty jokes whispered in his ear, all the times Joe’s stolen his books or drained his phone battery… he’s earned this, okay? As David leans back in his seat, it’s impossible to keep from grinning. Slumped against the window, Joe’s soft snores are easily drowned out by his headphones. They’ve got another five hours of flight ahead, and David plans to enjoy them.

Which he absolutely does, for the first hour. By the second, Joe’s got a specialty airline pillow under his head and a blanket tucked around him; David’s wallet is thirty dollars lighter, but it’s worth it. He runs his fingers through Joe’s hair absently, still engrossed in his book; after a while, he finishes it, and starts another one.

Somewhere around the third hour, Joe stirs, face smushing up against David’s shoulder. Gently, David repositions his head, only to find his boyfriend blinking drowsily at him.

“Hey, Web…” Joe’s voice is raspier than usual, thick with sleep. “How long’ve I been out?”

“A little while. We’re about halfway there.”

Joe hums, head flopping back against David’s shoulder. After a minute, he becomes aware of the blanket around him; a small huff escapes him, turning into a chuckle halfway through. “Aww, Web. Knew you cared.”

“As though I’d ever hear the end of it if you woke up with a sore neck.”

As though just to spite him, Joe cranes his neck at an unnatural angle to look up at him. “Wouldn’t be the first time we woke up sore together.” He pauses, thoughtful, then grins. “Wanna renew our mile high club membership?”

David shakes him off.

“Okay, okay, shit —“ Joe straightens up, disgruntled. Even sitting up in his seat, he sways a bit, as though rocking to turbulence no one else can feel. Davis observes as he gradually slumps against the window again, all the energy drained out of him. Mile high club — uh huh, very likely.

“These pills have any weird side effects?” Joe asks after a moment, brows furrowed. David rolls his eyes.

“How many times have I told you —“

“Read the fine print, yeah, damn it, Web. I get it.” Joe’s eyes scrunch shut. “They’re just not gonna — gimme an extra toe, or turn me green or anything, right?”

“No.” David diverts his attention, recommitting to his book with new stubbornness. “Orange, maybe.”

“That’s a color I can live with.” Without looking, Joe reaches over. Whatever he’s trying to grab, he ends up smacking David in the jaw. Hard, damn it. As David draws back with a muttered curse, Joe’s hand finds his chest; he gives it a few solid pats, maybe as an apology. “Mind if I sleep the rest of the way?”

“Please,” David rolls his eyes. “Be my guest.”

After a while, Joe’s snoring picks up again — and David is left to read in peace. He makes it through about a quarter of the next book before his eyes start hurting, and he finally has to set it aside. He orders a snack. He watches some late-night show. He doodles a bull shark on his napkin and daydreams about the white sands of Honolulu.

By the time the plane’s begun its final stretch, David is more than ready to start vacation. His pulse thrums with muted excitement, mind racing with all the things he wants to do as soon as they step off the plane. Every slight jolt of the plane as it descends kicks his anticipation a little higher.

By all rights, it should also jar Joe awake… but when David looks over, he’s surprised to find his boyfriend still sleeping.

“Hey,” he says, nudging Rip Van Winkle’s blanket-clad shoulder. “Nap time’s over. We’re almost there.”

Joe groans, shifting in his seat. When David tries again, he blindly smacks him.

“Jesus — will you —“ With a huff, David yanks the blanket away, leaving Joe bare. Suddenly exposed to the plane’s crisp air conditioning, Joe’s face scrunches up. He writhes in discomfort for a moment, fumbling around for the blanket, before at last cracking an eye open to look at Webster.

“You’re a sadist, Web.”

“I’m tired of watching you drool,” Webster retorts, busy packing up his carry-on. “Come on, rise and shine. We’ll be on the ground in a few minutes.”

Joe gives a drawn out sigh, as if it’s the greatest inconvenience in the world to ask him to be awake. Still, he props himself up. Over the next few minutes, as the airport tarmac slowly comes into view, he pulls himself from the syrupy haze of half-sleep, back into the land of the living. By the time they’re on the ground, he’s still blinking hard and rubbing his head, but awake.

“At least we’re had an easy flight,” David chirps as they make their way up the aisle.

“I dreamed I was on some tropical island, with a buncha pool floats, and the local girls were letting me eat fruit slices off their chests.”

“I already told you, we can’t do that in public — plus I have to wear sunscreen! I burn! Why do you want to eat fruit that tastes like sunscreen?”

“Just leave a spot bare —“

“I can’t stand tangerines,” Webster declares, cutting the argument off before it can take root. “Find a better fruit. If it’s pineapples, I’ll consider it.”

“That’s because you, like pineapples, are disgusting.”

Joe suddenly stumbles, bracing himself against the ramp. On reflex, David catches him by the arm — but Joe isn’t falling, apparently, just steadying himself. When David raises his eyebrows, his boyfriend rolls his eyes and brushes him off.

“I’m fine, quit lookin’ at me like that.” A second later, Joe is on the move again. “Just a little jet-lagged.”

To be fair… David did enough research on the motion sickness pills in advance to know they made you drowsy. He just… didn’t look up how long it would last.

By the time they’re collecting their luggage, Joe is lounging on a nearby-bench, half-asleep; David has to haul every suitcase off the conveyor belt on his own. He also has to hail a taxi by himself… and, when they pull up in front of the hotel, with Joe dead to the world against his shoulder, pay for it.

“Come on,” David mutters, dragging his boyfriend out of the car. “Home, sweet home.”

Joe wakes up just enough to blink at him in amazement. “Wow, that was some vacation, Web!”

The bellboy who comes out to greet them blinks at the sight of David, two suitcases braced against one arm, a comatose body against the other. With barely a word of apology, he deposits Joe on the luggage trolley. Joe, who seems delighted with this turn of events, just pulls his legs up.

Hopefully the hotel has a big bed, because it seems like they’ll be spending their first night in Hawaii getting to know it well.

#webgott #so this is 60% just an excuse to write sleepy joe being adorable #20% therapy for my vitrolic hatred of long flights #20% an Actual Thing that happened to me #i went to sleep on the plane that afternoon and woke up at 2am in a puerto rican hotel room #my writing #Anonymous

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narraboths · 5 years ago

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man on one had fantastic for actors to get series regular status because that means they're getting paid regular, right? but that also means that they're potentially stuck on a show that doesn't give them any airtime. like, it's good for shows (if they have the money) to just have a bunch of regular on hand to write about, but if they don't include you in the stories, you're just kind of there and can't audition for anything new in the mean time :/

yeah this accounts for half the cast departures in S3 lol. i guess it’s ideal for local actors who can and do happily get hired on other Vanc-based shows, Canadian or otherwise, but if you move your whole life to Vanc for the ten seconds and three lines of dialogue then yeah it’s not great.

#Anonymous

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danielcooperrp · 5 years ago

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Captain Babysitter

These days, the Avengers compound isn’t the thriving hub of life that it once was. For starters, there’s a lot fewer people around, and even those that managed to stay corporeal are less enthusiastic about their work. Clint has been a ghost for well over a year now, and Tony rarely leaves the cabin upstate anymore. Cap’s been working on rebuilding efforts in the city, both structural and social, and even Ally and Daniel have to divide their time between their work in Boston and their hideaway on the land Tony owns by the lake.

But they make an effort. It’s impossible to miss the incredible effort Natasha has been putting in to achieve some semblance of order. She’s been on top of things on an intergalactic scale, and whenever Daniel crawls into bed, exhausted from a day of being a dad and a community organizer, he thinks about Nat and reminds himself that there’s still so much to be done.

So they decide to take a week, introduce Anna to the compound, give Nat the chance to be a doting aunt instead of the tireless superhero. She steals the baby from Ally’s arms as soon as they arrive, leaving the new parents to haul their stuff up to their suite as she coos to Anna about how strong her legs are for kicking.

They’re the only ones in the compound, three adults and a baby. Rhodey’s hot on Clint’s trail—there are so many things to worry about these days, and Daniel has decided that for his own mental health, he’s going to purposefully ignore a friend becoming a serial killer—and everyone else, he thinks, is off-world. It’s sad, thinking about Nat all alone in a place this big. They really should be here more often.

The first thing they do, after their four bags of baby supplies and one suitcase of clothes are dumped unceremoniously into their suite is, of course, take a nap. They don’t even take their shoes off, just flop on the bed in a collection of limbs and black out. They’re only awoken when Nat opens the door, asking for diapers and what they want for lunch.

Baby changed, they go downstairs to make sandwiches and salads. Ally and Daniel do the bulk of the cooking, not that they mind; it’s good to give Nat a break, and to be honest, neither one of them wants to know what she’d do to them if they try to take Anna away from her at this point. As they eat, Nat fills them in on the work she’s been doing. If she didn’t have the world’s shadiest past, she’d make a great president.

Then the call comes in. There’s been a massive accident on the freeway just a few miles from the compound, multi-car pile-up. With a heavy sigh, Nat relinquishes Anna, who’s sleepy from her own lunch, over to her father, and then the women leave to go do what they do best.

Daniel wanders around the compound, showing Anna different points of interest. He takes her to a wall of windows and points out the quinjet. “Plane,” he says, emphasizing every sound. “Plane.” She blinks at him, bored.

He suddenly remembers that he dropped her favorite stuffed pig down in the entrance hall when they first arrived and decides to go get it before the tantrum starts. They walk down, and when he bends to pick it up, the front door unexpectedly opens. “Oh.”

Cap stops short, clearly surprised. “Daniel! Didn’t expect you here.”

Daniel straightens, the pig in one hand and the baby in the other. “Yeah, Ally and I are here for a little while, thought we’d help Nat out. What’re you doing here?”

With a small laugh, Cap says, “Same. But don’t tell Nat. She doesn’t want anyone to think she needs help.” He looks around the empty compound. “Where is she?”

“Oh, there was a crash on the freeway, she and Ally went to go help out.” Just then, his butt vibrates. He tries to get his phone out of his pocket, but he’s still holding the pig, so he drops the pig on top of Anna and tries again for the phone. “Hey babe!”

“We need you here, now. Bring the Medic suit. We’ve got injuries.”

Daniel eyes fall to Anna’s face. “But I’ve got—”

“Nat’s on her way back to watch the baby, she’ll probably beat you.”

Daniel looks up at Cap, who’s watching him, confused. “Actually...tell her to stay. Cap just got here.” Cap looks even more bewildered now. “Be there in three.” He hangs up, stuffs his phone back in his pocket, and says, “Well, man, you just got drafted.” He strides up to Cap and shoves the baby at him; Cap’s arms reach out to take her instinctively. Making sure the pig stays balanced, Daniel says, “She just ate so she’s probably ready for a nap. If you need diapers they’re upstairs in our suite, just go in. If she cries, she likes it when you bounce her or when you count each of her toes in an increasingly funny voice. Good luck!” He kisses Anna’s forehead and then bounds out the door, presses the button on his phone that calls his Medic suit to him.

Cap stands in the doorway, frozen. “What...just...” Anna starts to wriggle in his arms, and he panics, holding her tighter. “No, uh, stay, please.”

He kicks the door closed and walks over to the nearest couch, which he lowers himself onto as slowly as if he were trying his hardest not to detonate a bomb. Eyes wide, he scans the room for help he knows isn’t coming. He feels a tug and looks down; the fingers of one of Anna’s fists are curled around the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling it toward her mouth with truly terrifying strength.

“No, no, um, please don’t.” He gently pries the shirt from her grip, which was, apparently, a mistake. She lets out a wailing cry, face twisted up in agony.

“Oh no,” Steve breathes, heart beating faster. He wasn’t this terrified when he jumped on that grenade back in basic training. “You can have the shirt!” He tries to extend the front of his shirt toward her again, but it’s too late. She’s making a klaxon sound that Steve cannot think through. He sees it, in his head: Ally and Daniel coming back to a screaming baby, their faces of horror as they rescue her from his incompetent care, the trust they once had in him leeching away.

He picks up the stuffed pig from her chest and dances it in front of her face, but her eyes are screwed shut with the force of her wails. An errant fist knocks the pig out of his hand altogether, so that plan is quickly jettisoned.

He remembers Daniel’s spiel as he was abandoning them, and starts to bounce the baby. He has absolutely no frame of reference for the force with which one should bounce an infant, however, as is evidenced by the several seconds of airtime Anna manages before crashing back down into his arms. “Oh god!” Steve stumbles over an apology as the baby’s cries intensify. Her face is getting red with the force of her sobs, and Steve acts on a whim.

“ONE!” He deepens his voice, and pinches the littlest toe of her right foot very, very gently. The cries quieten, just a bit. Taking that as a sign, he moves over to the next toe, and in an even deeper voice, declares, “TWO!” Then the next toe, this time his voice so deep and bombastic it echoes off the tall walls. “THREE!”

The cries have completely stopped, and Steve will never, ever understand babies.

He makes his voice go lower and lower for toes four and five, but when he hops over to the left foot, his pitches his voice up impossibly high. “SIX!”

She starts to giggle.

He melts.

He continues counting her toes, wiggling each between his giant fingers, his voice spiraling higher and higher until it almost makes him dizzy. By the time he gets to ten, the baby is screeching with cackles, her whole body shaking with the force of them. He cheers after the tenth toe, burying his face in her round tummy, and she laughs even harder.

Steve leans back into the couch with a sigh. War was not that stressful. He starts bouncing the baby again, much, much more gently this time, and soon enough, the giggles quiet, too, and there’s a tiny sleeping person in his arms.

He watches her sleep, the way her long eyelashes fan out over her chubby cheeks, the little rise and fall of her chest, and thinks about a different he life he could have led, somewhere, somewhen else.

An hour later, she’s still asleep, and he hasn’t moved an inch, terrified to wake her up. The front door opens, and the missing trio parades in, chatting loudly about whatever daring heroics they’d just pulled off. Steve lets out a sharp sh! and the others look at him startled.

“You’ll wake her!” he hisses, jerking his head toward the sleeping infant.

Ally dances over with a roll of her eyes, easily scooping the baby out of Steve’s arms over his protests. “Relax, Cap. Once she’s out for her afternoon nap, she’s out. You could put her on a rocket and launch her into space and it wouldn’t faze her.”

“Hmm, we should try it,” Daniel jokes as he walks over, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Did she give you any trouble?”

“She—” He considers the question, smiling down at the sleeping baby. “She was perfect.”

Daniel grins. “Yeah she was.” He wraps an arm around Ally’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get her down and you in a shower.”

Ally gasps, offended. “What? Me?”

“You smell like motor oil.”

“You smell like vomit!”

“That’s what happens when strangers vomit on you. Come on.”

As the little family walks away, Nat smiles knowingly at Steve. “So...how was it?”

Steve chuckles. “Babies are wild, man.” He pauses. “It was pretty great.”

Nat’s eyes narrow. “You think you’re ever gonna get one of those?”

Rolling his eyes, Steve starts his make his way toward the kitchen. “Don’t start with me, Romanoff.”

“I know a really sweet girl in the city!” she calls after him. “Good birthing hips!”

#drabble #v1 #cap #natasha #anna banana #thenamesallison #this is a long boi #do you want captain steve america rogers babysitting an infant with zero warning?#YOU HAVE COME TO THE RIGHT PLACE

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wilsonsnest · 5 years ago

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winter, Sweetheart

un-beta’d, like to the extreme

just a plotbunny i had while driving from work today that i couldn’t resist writing. it’s an au where both bucky and sam are hydra assets and its hella sad.

warnings: dehumanization, angst, hurt and very little comfort, hydra awfulness

It’s always the same whenever they bring him out of cryo. The Soldier gets this impatient rolling in his gut that is usually reserved for his pitiful back-up on missions where Hydra really can’t afford things to go wrong. He has to tamp it down here, bury it deep so that nothing shows on his face. He remains impassive in the wake of the commotion of them waking him from his deep sleep.

Sleep. He shouldn’t think of it that way. It's more like being shut off, like a power-line being snipped or a phone hanging up abruptly. It's startling, uncomfortable and cold.

He stands stock still, arms at his sides, face impassive as the smoke pours from the tube only a few feet in front of him. He isn’t sure whether its a blessing or a curse that they want him to be the first thing he sees when he awakens.

“Soldat, grab him.” One of the higher-ups orders, as the techs and doctors scramble out of the way.

He marches forward, just as the Falcon starts to fall, stumbling like a newborn calf just dropped from the womb. It was an apt description of how this went every time.

He catches the slightly smaller man, tries to maintain an impersonal facade, though his instinct tells him to wrap his arms around the other man. His skin his ice cold, prickly with goosebumps. He isn’t shivering though, his body is probably to use to this at this point.

The techs gather, checking the metal casings grafted into the mans back. The Sldier will check again later, just because he knows they aren’t nearly as thorough as they should be. It's the wings that give The Falcon the most trouble when he gets pulled out of storage for a mission.

“You have 36 hours, Soldat.” The same higher-up who spoke to him earlier instructs, barely looking at the two of them. “Get him in working condition, and then we’ll have a mission briefing, Understood?”

He nods slightly, they don’t expect words from him which is a relief. He lets his flesh arm squeeze The Falcon gently before he pushes him away to create distance. The other man stumbles a little, blinking owlishly before he steadies himself. It takes a moment before deep brown eyes lock on the Winter Soldier, sharp and inquisitive.

He internally grimaces, it's like this every time. From what he gleaned, they spent so much timing grafting the wings, replacing his bones and generally fucking up The Falcon’s body that they didn’t want to mess around with his brain nearly as much as they had the Soldier’s. He has words, ones that can reset him and put him back on track. But there are things he needs to know, and they try not to mess with his head too often.

Falcon though. They’ll wipe Falcon as soon as he’s done helping with a mission. He’s another weapon in the Winter Soldier’s arsenal.

Wordlessly, he raised his hand, uses to fingers to gesture and waits. It takes a moment, but something registers in the Falcon’s eyes and he follows along after the Soldier, unsteady like a spindly legged fawn.

It takes all of the Soldier’s restraint not to reach out and steady him.

xxx

He knows that Hydra monitors these little training exercises, though they like to set the illusion that they are letting their two biggest assets out on their own to re-familiarize with one another. Theres a tin shed, big enough for the both of them to hunker down in for one night. An open field, surrounded by tall trees. Beyond those trees, the Soldier knows there are fences, invisible, but highly dangerous.

Still, he feels more at ease when they aren’t surrounded by high-ranking officials and doctors calculating their every move. He’s learned that the process of wiping the Falcon isn’t 100 percent still, and he can bring him back little by little.

The first task though, is getting him stable - walking, running and flying. The slim, but powerful wings they have grafted to the man are a technological wonder. They fit inside two rectangle metal casings attached to his back. The scaring is horrendous, worse than the Soldier’s arm considering the amount of skin and muscle they had to rearrange to make it work.

The Soldier watches as the other man stretches his arms toward the sky, going up on his tip toes for a brief second before wobbling and catching himself. He waits, arms folded over his chest as the Falcon begins his own curious rehabilitation of his body.

If the cold air bothers him, he certainly doesn’t act like it. He’s shirtless, wearing thin linen pants and no shoes. The Soldier frowns, his hair is buzzed short and his face is clean-shaven, they always do it before putting him into cryo. It makes something sick twist in his stomach, and his next kill always feels particularly vicious. He can’t articulate why it angers him, but it does. He likes when eventually his hair grows out a little, and he starts getting a mustache.

Eventually, the casings on his back begin to slide open and closed, as the Falcon seems to realize he control those too. The wing cases are about 12 inches long, two inches wide and stick out from his back about three inches. They’re made from a light metal, but they’re strong to protect the delicate wires inside. His own arm is heavy, and after long bouts of downtime even he has to get used to the weight.It’s crucial that Falcon’s wings are light though.

As the Falcon begins to experiment with releasing his wings, the Soldier can’t help but stare in rapt attention. It's almost hauntingly beautiful, despite how many times he’s seen it before. When the wings finally all slot out, perfectly aligned their huge and almost overwhelming. His wingspan is impressive for such a small space, and their elegance, while not a priority is necessitated by how the have to be stored.

But it's not just the wings. There’s something that the Soldier craves more, it feeds an ache in his chest. A clawing hunger for something that he rarely experiences.

The Falcon moves his wings, a few times experimentally. Stumbles along, unsure and then begins a light jog. The first leap, he always looks surprised when his wings managed to hold him up. But then - oh - he relaxes what is happening and the Falcon soars.

The Soldier doesn’t have much of a concept of beauty anymore, but he knows that the empty space inside him fills up whenever he sees that first smile appear on the Falcon’s face. He watches, getting his fill for as long as he can before-

He watches, eyes dimming as the Falcon suddenly seizes up, his face stricken and he falls to the ground. The Soldier waits for a minute before jogging over. The first time it happened he was alarmed, but now he knows to expect it. The Falcon sits up easily, he can take a hit with the best of them.

But his free time was up. Hydra only wants him in the air for so long when they aren’t on missions. On base, the Falcon’s programming only allows him ten minutes of airtime before pain sensors engage, and make him seize up. The Soldier won’t bother to explain, after a few tries he’ll figure it out. He doesn’t want to be the one take the light from his eyes so soon.

“Soldat?” The Falcon’s voice is rough with disuse. He rubbed at his neck, and squinted up at the sky as though it had somehow betrayed him. “Is there something wrong with me?”

The Soldier grimaced, hating the question. Hating that he went through this every single time. “No.” He answered shortly. He helped the Falcon to his feet, gentle this time. The grainy cameras wouldn’t be able to tell the different. “And you don’t call me that.”

“No?” The Falcon tilted his head, surprised. “What do I call you?”

“Winter.” He offered shortly, and then started toward the tin shack, knowing the other would follow. There were some ragged blankets inside that he could use to warm the other up, and he knew that the guards got lax once they were inside.

“And what do you call me?” The question was always so charming. Somewhere in his head, the Falcon knew they had a different repertoire. If he could, the Soldier would have smiled bitterly.

Instead, he just looked over his shoulder, face stony and unmoved even as he answered. “Sweetheart.”

#sambucky #winterfalcon #sam wilson #bucky barnes #wintersweetheart

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professorjjong · 5 years ago

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the reason this ‘group’ is dumb for taem is because it’s just a giant step backward for him... he’s an artist of over ten years with a successful solo career for five now. if this were just a project group it’d be fine w it like go have fun with ur bff and ur other sm buddies it’s the fact that this is a permanent group that’s the issue... like, unlike some of the other members in this group taem already has popularity and sway on his own, outside of his group. move was a whole ass meme two years ago, he’s doin’ fine. he doesn’t need a second group to use as momentum to “go into solo work, acting, etc..” or stay in the media’s attention while shinee is on hiatus (or after, bc, again, permanent group). presumably, taemin is going to be promoting like a new artist. any shinee fans remember that episode of happy together from 2015? when shinee, established artists, were asked to perform individual talents and tell stories before their debut like tehy were new artists and not seniors in the industry? i remember being so upset by that, seeing the same stuff i’d seen a hundred times before, like the writers and mcs didn’t know enough about shinee to ask interesting questions or introduce their music so they just expected shinee to fill up the air time with stories and talents. i can’t help but worry that this is kind of content we’ll be seeing as part of this group, and it’s really not the content i’m interested in. it’s just frustrating to imagine this in the midst of the other things taem’s been up to this year--and yeah, i’m negative, but only as a direct result of other things sm has done to its artists.

this is exactly the thing sm has repeatedly been criticized for by its artists and fans, for not actually promoting its artists in an intelligent way or allowing them to move in whichever direction and in whichever fashion they would like. i def don’t want to put words in taemin’s mouth--he’s probably happy to be working w/ his friends and maybe excited about what’s to come, who knows--but it’s so ridiculous that a long-standing artist is “redebuting.” this whole project just doesn’t seem like it has anything to do with him... like they just threw his name on it. if sm/taemin wanted to do something during shinee’s hiatus aside from chillin’ or solo promos or whatever that’s fine, just... this? this is what you came up with? what’s coming across like an excuse to just give airtime to other artists who might not have as much individual popularity as taem?

#rose says stuff #i saw some ppl being like 'ya'll need to calm down he's ok w/ being busy!!#i know we don't get along with other fandoms but u need to chill out!'#like my problem w/ this group isn't taem's schedule or the other fandoms #like taem is an adult and his contract is thankfully built so i'm sure he could've said no to this or whatever #and idgaf about other fandoms honestly #it just seems like such an odd fit for him to be in it #that whole thing about it opening up doors for the artists to act and do solo work like #taemin does't need that? successful solo artist?#idk about the acting but he doesn't seem too interested in it but again idk #it's just... ugh #whatever i mean i hope taem has fun and i hope there's not going to be any conflicts between fandoms #like what happened during delicious

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saltwukong · 6 years ago

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“RWBY was so much better back then” Pt. 1 - Obligatory Fight Scenes Complaint, And Maybe Why They Suck

By now anybody who knows me knows I’m not going to shut up about this, ever, so let’s get this over with.

Volume 4′s and especially Volume 5′s fight scenes suck. I mean, they just do. That’s as close as we come to objectively bad suckage and even people who still cling desperately to like this show admit that they’re bad. And it’s easy to take potshots at them, comparing them to shit like V3′s Pyrrha vs. Cinder or Yang vs. Mercury and whatnot, but still--no one ever says something even worse, and also true: the fights have actually regressed so far that Volume 1′s fights look infinitely better.

That’s bad.

And also alarmingly backwards. That’s not how it’s supposed to work. Your later products aren’t supposed to look better than their predecessors simply because they came later; they’re supposed to look better because of better equipment and more experience using it. After five years of animating fight scenes, they should’ve gotten better and should not be doling out such crap that looks like an amateur got into Maya for ten minutes.

Conversely, your starting animations (and RWBY was definitely a lot of the team’s animators’ starting points on a serious work, it showed in the “Volume 1″ style we came to know that involved identical running animations, black shadows as background characters, and the many inconsistencies abundant throughout it like Ruby having two Crescent Roses) should look like the starting animations when compared to later ones. You hadn’t learned as much and you were just starting out. Right?

And I’m not backing down on that point either. Volume 4 and 5′s fights are worse than Volume 1′s. A demonstration:

youtube

I’m not even talking about Penny in this scene. I mean, watch how it opens: Roman shooting candle shots at a downed Blake.

Blake looks up, realizing she just heard another firework being shot despite her disorientation. She rolls wildly out of the way hoping to dodge any more shots before she gets her footing.

And Blake is no fool. She just got knocked on her ass and dazed despite appearing to have a cemented 100% upper hand and a helpless hostage. Roman has the advantage (range, power) and she knows it. She doesn’t press her attack, and flees for the time being. Speaking of her footing,

That’s her, losing her footing. That’s part of the genius of this fight scene, is that you can feel every blow. Blake stumbling as she flees is because of the power of the explosion that just struck next to her. It gives us a sense of how it feels trying to dodge bullshit like that and how dangerous they are. Another example of “little” things seen here is this:

That tiny shake up and down is jitter. Jitter is incredibly basic, and almost necessary in really good fight scenes that involve explosions or strong impacts, you just can’t use it in excess or it becomes distracting. Now that I’ve pointed it out to you, it probably seems pretty odd that you didn’t notice it before, right?

Speaking of which, how about the fact that Roman attacked Blake more than once to begin with? Blake was disoriented from the first attack and Roman meant to put her down. True, this paints Roman as a pragmatist, but it also paints him as...well, an actual combatant. Because, when your opponent is vulnerable, you take advantage of it. That’s not restricted to his character type, that’s just how fights work.

Now contrast that against Blake vs. Ilia in Volume 5,

First of all, no jitter. That’s not the camera shaking a bit, that’s the characters shaking, so don’t mistake this as having used good intel from previous animations--nonetheless that Blake getting her weapon shocked out of her hand is given none either. But moreover, what’s important is what happens immediately after this.

Ilia took advantage of her opponent’s weakness, and that’s good. Shock of shocks, I complimented something. But it’s still a step down. Why? Because Ilia just intentionally succeeded in removing Blake’s weapon and stunning her for an instant. Ilia also has a weapon in her hand and she is a foot away from Blake--why did she pause for a moment for Blake to recover and then perform a complicated acrobatic kick? Why doesn’t she just smack Blake with the damn whip the instant Blake loses her momentum?

You know...sort of like Roman did here?

Because, ya know, that’s what fight choreography actually looks like. Not all complicated rule-of-cool spin kicks. This might seem fast and simple in comparison to the flashy and, on the surface, cooler thing Ilia did, but what Ilia did was just one more way the pace of the fight was kept slow and restricted, rather than being heated and a matter of reflexes and skill. In fact, you might could say that Ilia lost the fight because of that.

The “fight” between Blake and Ilia, if you can call it that, ends with Blake pinning Ilia from above, like so:

Why the hell didn’t Ilia dodge that?

Blake gets a full two seconds of airtime before she actually hits!

You wanna know why Roman didn’t dodge it back when Sun did this?

Because Roman:

didn’t know Sun was present.

And because he didn’t know Sun was present, didn’t know to be on guard.

And because he didn’t know Sun was present, couldn’t have known he would attack or from where.

None of that applies to Ilia, who has been in a hostile engagement with Blake for a few minutes, know knows exactly where she is beforehand, and saw her attack. There is no reason whatsoever Ilia shouldn’t have let Blake fall on her ass and then kicked her when she made it to the ground, which is exactly what would’ve happened in Monty Oum’s RWBY.

Even the best fights of Volume 5, like this one, look like they came from amateurs, while the ones from Volume 1 look like a professional made them.

Well...a professional did make them, right? Monty was there and worked on them! It isn’t really fair to hold them to that standard, right?

I often say that the infuriating results of Volume 5′s fight scenes (and lack thereof) simply come from a matter of the ones responsible not trying and not putting in the effort (which makes them so easy to despise; it’d be one thing if they were just mediocre animators, but it ends up looking like they just don’t care). But here, we see a fight that clearly was worked on, and worked on by people that cared. There’s no denying that.

Yet it doesn’t stack up.

I also often see people say (and have sometimes said myself) that yeah, it’s not really Monty-standard material we expect from the living animators with us at the moment. But let me give you a hot take: maybe it is in fact perfectly fair to hold Rooster Teeh to that standard?

After all, they worked with Monty, right? It wasn’t just a one-man effort, right? It wasn’t just one man and maybe his close team bearing the entire weight of the process of animating, right? It isn’t like they’d just throw all the hard work to Monty while ripping his show out from under him, right?

The answer at the beginning of this post felt like “yes”. The more I think about it though, the more it feels like “no”. I already know they wrote “[MONTY ACTION]” when actually writing their fight scenes into the script. So I can unfortunately find it very plausible that all the hardest animating work, and the work that reflected most, was done by him and the few animators that left with Shane a few years ago.

Because if it wasn’t, things would’ve been picked up. Things would’ve been shared and learned and the animations from current day, while not seeming like a gleaming love letter to the Monty Oum talent, would at least reflect that he once breathed life into this project and in a way still does.

Maybe it’s because--and this is just a suspicious, but bleak feeling--no one bothered to hang around Monty and try to pick up what he was putting down back then that all of the fight scenes look so regressed. Maybe it’s because they never felt like they had to learn from Monty in order to create RWBY, which is why it appears that literally nothing was learned inbetween Volumes 1 and 5--because nothing was.

People praise Volumes 4 and 5 by saying the “production values” are through the roof. That’s true in the sense that Maya is more advanced and nicer to look at than Poser. It’s completely untrue in that the skill and effort used to deliver the product (and indeed, the money too) are the furthest thing from improved.

End rant.

#rwde #crew criticism #Major Salt Warning

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mill3nniumforc3 · 6 years ago

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How CP Coasters rank (as of July 18, 2018)

18. Wilderness Run (fka Jr Gemini). Opened in 1979, it is a good coaster for little kids (and the first ever coaster by Intamin). However, adults can’t even ride if not with a child. With that said, I did ride it in 2004 (at age 10) when I was just barely the maximum height (54″. I was a short kid). Good for the kiddies, not good for the enthusiasts.

17. Woodstock Express. Opened in 1999, it’s a Vekoma junior coaster. While a good ride for the thrill, the fact that it has the child-proof seatbelts makes the ride a little less fun.

16. Rougarou (fka Mantis). Opened in 1996 as a B&M stand-up coaster, this ride is concussion central. Unless you sit in the front, it’s rough af. Its saving grace outside of not being a kiddie coaster is transforming it to a B&M floorless coaster was an improvement. As a stand-up, it also hurt a certain part of my body that we don’t need to talk about.

15. Gemini. Opened in 1978, it is the Arrow woodie that’s not actually a woodie (it has steel track). Great for a first coaster (it was my first coaster taller than 100 feet) and the racing element makes for friendly competition. Why isn’t it higher on the list? The trim brakes make the ride go so much slower than it used to. Also, #TeamBlue always, even if they never run it on less-crowded days.

14. Iron Dragon. Opened in 1986, it is an Arrow suspended coaster, and another great first coaster. Virtual reality was added in 2017 (runs from 6pm-close during the summer). The only reason it ranks higher than Gemini is the swinging of the suspended trains and the trees/water adds to the ride experience. Also, I got to beta test the VR in 2017 because I’m a ride operator and it was so much fun.

13. Pipe Scream. Opened in 2014, this Zamperla Disk’O ride not only spins you and takes you up and down, but it also features a bunny hill. While some people might say that this doesn’t count as a coaster, it most certainly does! I rode this the year it opened, and it’s like the perfect hybrid of a pirate ship ride (known as Ocean Motion at CP) and a wild mouse coaster (which has been defunct at CP since 2011). It’s a ride I recommend a lot to parents who have kids who are too short to ride the bigger rides but are bored with the kiddie rides because the minimum height requirement is 42″. It’s the coolest skateboard you’ll ever ride.

12. Corkscrew. Opened in 1976, it is an Arrow looping coaster, and was the first coaster to flip you upside down three times (the train colors are red, white, and blue after America’s bicentennial). Many people say it’s a great first upside coaster. I disagree. Corkscrew, while a lot of fun, throws people around like no other. It’s fun to ride on a summer day, but it’s the one most likely to give you whiplash after Rougapoop.

11. Cedar Creek Mine Ride. Opened in 1969 by Arrow, it is, in my opinion, the BEST choice for a first coaster. The ride isn’t too fast, doesn’t have any huge hills or inversions, and has more elements than hills. This was probably my second-favorite coaster on my first CP trip back in 2004 (first favorite had to be Disaster Transport. Still mourning the loss every day).

10. Blue Streak. Not putting Blue Streak in the top 10 would be an absolute crime! The oldest coaster in the park, opened in 1964 and built by Philadelphia Toboggan Company, is a classic! If there are ever kids or teens trying to count this ride out whenever I talk to them, once I tell them how much I love it, they shut up and go ride it. It’s a great piece of history- and it really paved the way for the coasters we have today. So, ride Blue Streak, and tell Blue Streak thank you!

9. Valravn. This B&M dive coaster created quite the hype in 2016 as the tallest, longest dive coaster. The issue? The ride ended up not living up to its hype. I waited 45 minutes for my first ride. It was fun, but it wasn’t great. Valravn is a ride I will go on if it has a short wait or if I’m with a friend, but I don’t enjoy it.

8. Top Thrill Dragster. Naturally, this ride makes the top ten. Why isn’t in the top five? Because it’s not worth more than a 45 minute wait for a 17 second ride. This Intamin stratacoaster opened in 2003 as the tallest, fastest coaster in the world (a title taken away two years later by Kingda Ka at SFGAdv). It is a fun ride; nothing can beat the rush of going from 0mph-120mph in 3.8 seconds. But once you get up to the top hat, the ride is nothing. Also, rollbacks are not an everyday occurrence (sorry), so it gets kinda old to hear people complain that they didn’t get one. Be glad you didn’t, because rollbacks these days tend to have the ride go down mechanical.

7. Wicked Twister. Some people might say this isn’t a coaster, but yes it is! This Intamin shuttle impulse coaster opened in 2002 and launches you at 70mph. Ride in the very back of the train to get the biggest drop, or ride in the very front to have the biggest freefall. Who couldn’t be a fan of Twicked Wister?

6. GateKeeper. Opened in 2013, this B&M wing rider helped remodel the main entrance. Sitting on the side of the track, flipping over/under the lift hill, twisting and turning through the keyholes, and not to mention that I got to train at the ride in 2017. Make sure to sit on the left side of the train. It’s the best side.

5. Magnum XL-200. The world’s first hyper-coaster is not to miss! Opened in 1989 and manufactured by Arrow, this was the very first coaster to top 200 feet. This ride may be the bumpiest non-inverted coaster (kills the thighs!), but it’s a good one! The only drawback is Maggie has the SLOWEST lift-chain. It takes a whole minute to get to the top of the 205 foot hill.

4. Raptor. Everyone craps on Raptor, but I think it is the most fun! Opened in 1994, this B&M inverted coaster featured the first-ever inverted cobra roll. If you ride it at night, there are cool light effects on the cobra roll (epilepsy warning though). Riding in the back row feels like flying. Be warned that headbanging may occur as you go into the final brake run.

3. Maverick. Obviously, Mav is in the top three. Opened in 2007, this Intamin launched coaster features the steepest drop on all CP coasters at 95-degrees. It’s one of few rides worth a long wait. The launch lift hill, twisted horseshoe roll, and midcourse launch. It’s a complete package. The upgraded harnesses made the ride even better. With the hard orange harnesses, it was pretty much a pain in the neck (and ears). The new harnesses add enjoyment and comfort to the ride.

2. Steel Vengeance (fka Mean Streak). The brand new coaster for 2018 is the RMC makeover of Mean Streak. There was a lot of hype for it, which left people skeptical since Valravn was a disappointment. However, I rode it and WOW!!! It lived up to that hype and exceeded ALL my expectations. The 90-degree drop was amazing, the airtime did not disappoint, and the inversions were fun (even though they will flop you around like a rag doll if you’re not careful). If guests ask me if it’s a long wait, the answer is HELL YES!

1. Millennium Force. Of course, of course. The best steel coaster in the world for 17 years in a row! Well, 15 times, because it dropped to number 2 twice. Opened in 2000, this Intamin giga coaster stands at 310 feet tall and broke records for being the first to go over 300 feet, being the fastest at 93 mph, having the steepest drop at 80-degrees, and having the steepest non-inverted overbanked turn at 122-degrees. If guests ask me what the best ride is in the park, I always tell them to go to Millie. It’s tall, it’s fast, it’s worth a long wait, and it’s the best in the WORLD (even though my boyfriend disagrees and says Maverick is the best in the world).

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mapowrites · 6 years ago

Text

Misericórdiae (Erwin Smith/OC)

Chapter 3: Shepherd's Pie

[ I ] [ II ]

(Art by https://twitter.com/tegamihiraku?lang=en)

He had liked the smell of the rain. But after today, it smelt of guilt and tragedy.

He stood aimlessly; his Sunday clothes soaked through from the rain. His eyes blank, he read the plate over and over again. He was too numb to cry. Too stupefied to process the situation.

‘Here lies Christopher Smith. 778-825. May he rest in peace.’

Three hours had passed since the burial, but the little blond boy was paralysed to his spot, towering over the tombstone. Some of the adults around him had tried to get him to leave with them under their umbrellas, uttering words of condolences. But moving meant that he would have to carry on. Moving meant he would have to continue his life without his father. Moving would mean that he accepted his father’s death. So he stayed perfectly still, thinking that if he didn’t move, all of this would go away as fast as it had happened.

He, alone, remained with his father.

“Erwin,” a friendly voice cooed. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a man squatting beside him. “Let’s go home. My wife made shepherd’s pie for dinner.”

His mouth refused to function despite his brain’s command. He continued to stare at the fresh grave, his soul absent from his eyes. He felt the man staring a hole into him for several minutes.

“Papa, what’s wrong with him?” Erwin heard an infantile voice grow closer. He watched a small girl no older than five years approach her father from his peripheral vision.

“Shh,” her father, who he recognised as Mr. Reichart, hushed her. He had been his father’s close friend. “Erwin is not feeling well.”

“Why not?”

“His heart is hurting.”

His heart, his lungs, his brain, his stomach, his skin was hurting. Everything felt poisoned.

A few minutes passed before his view of his father’s grave was suddenly blocked by a blur of white. When his eyes focused, he found a white Camellia flower in front of his nose. Blinking, he took the flower into his hand, bringing the infant into his view. Her bright honey eyes were the first bit of colour he had seen in days.

“Sometimes when I’m hurting, I count the petals on the flowers,” she said very matter-of-factly. “When I’m done counting, I don’t feel sad anymore. Then, I eat shepherd’s pie to scare the sadness away.”

The little girl stood beside him and held his hand. She peered over the flower in his hand and started counting. He listened to her count, her small finger pointing at the different petals. Erwin was lulled into a trance as she counted.

By the time she reached twenty-eight, Erwin began to see colour again.

Lyor peered at the immensity of the blue sky in the open fields, taking a bite out of her apple. The sky was so beautiful without any walls obstructing it. She wondered when she would finally be able to cruise the sky; alone and free up in the clouds. She wanted to see what life looked like as a bird.

“Head’s up!”

Lyor barely had the time to get up and run away as one of her mates, Max, hit the ground running from the air. He was attached to a box kite glider, his hands gripping the wooden bars. She watched him slowly come to halt, carefully tipping the giant fabric and wooden wings onto the ground. “Forty-three seconds of airtime! And I stuck the landing!” Max exclaimed, untying the leather belts that buckled him into the prototype glider.

“Congrats!” Lyor called to him, sarcasm in her voice. She walked over to him. “Too bad you didn’t fly more than five meters off the ground and flew straight into a titan’s crotch!”

“Hey, just because we’re not using this model right now doesn’t mean we should stop practicing with it,” Max responded. Lyor helped him unlatch the bindings of the box kite glider.

Lyor looked around, pretending not hear Max. “I’m sorry, do you hear someone talking? Oh, wow, I didn’t know dead people could still speak after being devoured by a titan.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Max copied her tone and started circling the contraption for any damage. “I didn’t know people scared of flying could become aeroplane engineers.”

Lyor rolled her eyes and helped Max fold the glider in half. He laughed, his teeth showing underneath his thick moustache.

“Did you try out the gas valves on the wings?” She asked, finishing her apple.

“I did; it weighed the whole thing down. We’ll have to try something else,” Max responded, taking off the series of belts and latches he was wearing. “But I gotta say, this 3DMG latch setup works like a charm!”

Lyor frowned. “You better return that to the scout before he leaves. He’ll need it for the way back.”

The brunette watched him light his umpteenth cigarette of the day. The middle-aged man shrugged. “I don’t think Wilhelm’s going to send him home on his own.”

“Why not?”

“I overheard him talking to Smith about how screwed his ankle is. Heinrich wants to give it at least another day. We’ll be leaving by that time regardless — might as well have a scout escort us home,” Max began packing his equipment into a crate. A movement caught his eye and he nodded his head in its’ direction. “Speak of the devil. I think your old man wants you.”

Lyor twisted around to find her father waving her over a few hundred meters away before disappearing into the dense forest bush. She turned back to Max. “Need any more help?”

“Nah,” he replied, his breath smoky. “I’m almost done. I’ll meet you back at camp. Rick is somewhere around, too.”

Lyor nodded and headed back to their campground. She entered the forest bush and began hiking up a steep hill. She thought about what Max had told her. Her father had been so stern about taking in this soldier, and suddenly he wanted to keep him close? He must’ve known this guy really well, she thought.

Lurching up the almost 60 degree incline, she steeled herself for the last few meters up the hill. Finally, she reached the top, panting, where she found her group’s campground. Four tents were erected in a circle around a campfire, their horses grazing leisurely the grass. It was the perfect vantage point; they could see for miles and miles for incoming titans, their camp peeking just enough out of the woods. From here, they also had access to a prime launching area for their gliders and planes.

“Look at it, woman! I told you not to touch the vapour turbine!” Lyor watched Heinrich and Faye squabble over a leaking steam engine, wrenches held up in the air, ready to strike.

Faye, a lanky girl in her late teens, waved her slender arms in the air in exasperation. “If I hadn’t released the pressure vapour, we’d both be two roasted kebabs right now!”

“Oh, the exaggeration!” Heinrich slammed his wrench onto the ground, stomping over to his workbench.

Lyor’s smile quickly dissipated at the realisation that all of their materials and equipment were sprawled out in the open. Her father had specifically told them to keep their crap out of sight, in case the soldier saw. Now suddenly, Heinrich and Faye had one of their steam engines out on display. This made her walk faster towards Erwin’s tent, where her father and the latter surely waited for her. She knew the two men had planned to catch up this afternoon; her father had requested it the night before when Erwin and he reunited. With Erwin being too exhausted to handle much, last night’s introductions were cut short after her father had interrupted.

Lyor knocked on the wooden crate placed outside Erwin’s tent, and her father’s voice allowed her to enter. She pushed through the fabric and entered the tent, revealing two men sitting at the wooden table. Her eyes locking with his sapphire gaze, she was surprised to see Erwin out of bed. He nodded politely at her, and she smiled politely back. He was wearing a clean, navy button up shirt tucked into a pair of grey fabric pants — surely borrowed from her father or Max, who had similar builds. His blond hair was combed but still looked a little messy to her with his bangs falling in front of his eyes. She was also startled to see how lucid his regard was compared to last night. Must’ve had a good rest, she noted.

“Lyor,” her father snapped her out of her curious stare. “Have a cup of tea with us, would you?”

Her lips pulled into another diplomatic smile and she nodded. She walked over to the table and pulled a chair out, sitting between the two men who sat on either end of the table. Her father silently slid a cup of tea over to her.

“Erwin, this is my daughter, Lyor,” Wilhelm stated. Lyor pretended not to feel the blond’s gaze on her as she cupped her hands around her mug. “You must remember her. You two were quite close when you stayed with our family, even if you stayed only for a few months.”

With raised eyebrows, Lyor looked at her father, mouth opening to ask what on Earth he was talking about. He beat her to it.

“Lyor, this is Erwin Smith. I was his father’s best man. When Erwin was ten, his father died, and we took him in for a few months.”

“Oh,” Lyor cheerlessly turned her gaze to Erwin who watched her with a small smile. Her brows knit in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. I don’t remember you.”

Her father chuckled. “You were only four years old.”

“I only remember you handing me a flower at my father’s funeral,” Erwin admitted, firmly holding her gaze. She squirmed in her seat under his intimidating stare; his penetrating sapphire eyes commanding her utmost attention. “You had also told me that the secret warding off sadness was to eat shepherd’s pie.”

Lyor bit her lip and laughed embarrassedly, breaking their eye contact as her face flushed. Her father snorted.

“Well, her mother did make a hell of a shepherd’s pie,” Wilhelm’s gaze softened as he watched his daughter forlornly. “Isn’t that right?”

Lyor hummed in agreement, her lip twitching into a bitter smile.

“Lyor was the one who found you collapsed in the forest,” Erwin listened carefully as Wilhelm spoke to him. “Honestly, we wouldn’t have spotted you had it not been for the glint of your sword; you were covered in mud. I’m assuming that’s why you weren’t eaten since we didn’t find any other bodies.”

Behind her cup of tea, Lyor observed Erwin’s Adam’s apple bob as he drank his tea. There was something off about him. The young man – older than she was – didn’t look particularly friendly at the mention of his fallen comrades. There was something in his face that told her he was aloof — whether it was the squareness of his jaw, or perhaps the shape of his sharp cheekbones. He was handsome, and he was difficult to read. Her eyes followed the outline of his jaw, down his stubbled cheek, to his exposed neck; he kept a few of his shirt buttons undone, surely to keep his abdominal wounds properly aired out. She swallowed hard, averting her eyes before they could greedily travel to the view of his bare chest where she had spotted the start of a gauze bandage.

“What are the odds?” Erwin commented smoothly. He caught Lyor’s eyes. “Thank you for finding me. I don’t know how to repay you.”

“Do you remember what happened to you?” Lyor pressed, dodging his politeness with a quick smile.

He exhaled pointedly through his nose and peered into his teacup. She noticed a twinge in one of his thick eyebrows as he took a moment to recall the events. “Yes, I was on an expedition with my regiment. It was pouring rain. Without much visibility in the Venhurst woods, we were easily ambushed by a group of titans and I was knocked off of my horse by one. I must’ve tumbled for at least a hundred meters before I lost consciousness.”

Lyor pressed her lips into a grim line. “No one came back to look for you?”

“I’m sure they did but as Wilhelm said, camouflaged in the mud, I was only spotted by chance,” Erwin answered. He hesitated for a few seconds before he continued to speak. “But I’m relieved it turned out this way.” Lyor watched his grip tighten around his cup. She shot him a questioning look.

“This way, I was able to witness your group’s engineering feats,” The blond confessed. “I want to help you further your research.”

Lyor’s eyes widened three times their normal size before she scrutinised her father’s expression. He offered a shrewd smirk.

“You — what did you tell him?” She demanded, appalled at her father’s judgement.

“Everything.” Wilhelm answered simply.

She stammered, “On what grounds?!”

“Lyor,” her father’s demeanour abruptly shifted. Sombrely, he continued. “Erwin’s father was tortured and killed by the military police for merely pointing out discrepancies and contradictions to his son in the history books they gave you children at school. They covered up Christopher’s murder as an accident, leaving his only son orphaned.”

The young woman confirmed this by looking over at Erwin. He didn’t meet her eyes and instead stared into his cup of tea, withdrawn.

“Erwin shares our vision and motivation,” Wilhelm punctuated. Her eyes dragged back to her father. “He’s next in line to be commander of the Survey Corps. With the Survey Corps’ funding and support, we can finally move forward with our research.”

Lyor scowled, her amber eyes burning a hole through her father.

Wilhelm sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I understand this makes the group uneasy, but you have to trust me. I knew Erwin’s father very well. Not only is he the spitting image of Christopher, but what could possibly motivate him to betray us? Do you really want to remain static like we have for the past six years?”

“After what happened to mother, you decide to do this without everyone’s consent?” Lyor spoke lowly, standing assertively from her chair. Her father watched her with an icy expression, almost daring her to finish her thought. “After what happened to your wife?”

The two brunets glared at each other in forbidding silence before their attention turned to Erwin. He stood up from his chair, cooly, and with a slight limp, took two steps to be faced with Lyor. He towered over her, her nose barely reaching his chin. She glared up at him, trying to ignore the suddenly intoxicating scent of his person. She stood her ground as he looked down at her with an unreadable expression, his gunmetal eyes unwavering.

“Ms. Reichart,” his tone was unyielding, but the formality kept him distant. “You saved my life. Do you really assume me to be so treacherous? Given what the military did to my father, do you really believe that I am anything like the men who used an innocent mother as a bargaining chip?”

Lyor blanched at his words but she continued to glare at him. Father wasn’t kidding when he said he had told him everything. He searched for an answer to his questions in her eyes.

When she didn’t answer him, he continued. He leaned into her face, his eyes like burning coals that ordered her to look at him. She felt his feverish breath on her skin, and despite her fire, her heart began to race. This time, it was Erwin’s turn to smoulder, his words oozing authority, “I have nothing in common with those men.”

Notes:

Your comments are my writing fuel. :>

Also disclaimer: I don't know shit about planes or engineering. I also realise that planes were only invented after the invention of the steam engine and that that has yet to be introduced in this geographical area of AOT, but just pretend that steam engines have already been invented, 'kay? For the sake of Lyor and Erwin?

#erwin smith #erwin smith x oc #erwin smith/oc #fanfiction #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #writing #ao3

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thesinglesjukebox · 6 years ago

Video

youtube

BLACKPINK - DDU-DU DDU-DU [5.18] How ddu we feel about them this go-round?

Alex Clifton: Blackpink nearly doubled their entire extant discography with the release of a four-song EP, and yet they managed to give us their weakest single yet. "Ddu-du" works far better for Jennie and Lisa's rapping skills -- Jennie's second verse is the best bit of the song -- but the Jisoo/Rosé vocal line is given vague lines about "go ahead and test me" that they never really sell. Moreover, those last 30 seconds kill the energy with a drop that comes out of nowhere. A song that should have been way more straightforward for maximum impact. [5]

John Seroff: Manic, maximalist fun that's as compulsively binge-worthy as anything in the Fifth Harmony catalogue. Bonus point for a luxurious and gonzo video that features a disco ball tank and a fennec fox. [7]

Maxwell Cavaseno: There was a world where Blackpink continued in the direction "As If It's Your Last" hinted at, where they avoided the pitfall of having to prove every single record is a monstrous smash, and where they could find an identity, avoid the obvious 2NE1 Replacement Debt they were unfairly given, and turn the page for the rapidly old-hat-looking YG Entertainment. Then someone decided what we needed was a generic hook, a bunch of beat drops, and rhinestone-plated tanks. Lisa's secretly become a much better rapper than CL ever was, but this group still threatens to capsize under the weight of its own opulence, without actually good songs to buoy them. [2]

Michelle Myers: I honestly preferred Blackpink when they were a vehicle for whatever leftover material from 2NE1's unfinished third album was in the YG basement. Jennie's verse is thrilling, but Rosé is underutilized, Jisoo is awkward, and whoever is writing Lisa's raps should probably stop. [6]

Will Rivitz: A beat that should have been left in about 2014, a prechorus that sounds like it was sewn in from the scraps of another song entirely, a gloriously inane hook, and yet I've listened to it about ten dozen times since it came out -- yep, Blackpink is back. Plus, would it really be a Blackpink song without at least one incredible, infinitely memorable and colossally stupid line repeated a few times? (What are you coming through with, Lisa? Unparalleled swagger and confidence? A killer outfit? A nice book recommendation? A dog? How can I knew what I'm gonna do without knowing that?) (Are dogs even allowed in the club?) [7]

Katie Gill: Somewhere, some K-pop exec wrote a chorus, couldn't find a song to put it with, and slapped it at the end of this piece. Did we really need that last "fire" thirty seconds when we were already doing ddu-du du? Blackpink bring the energy and deliver their lines with braggadocio that the music video unfortunately can't match. But structurally, it's a bit weird. [6]

Katherine St Asaph: Garish, maximalist and messy -- the exact opposite of US pop's chronic illness of chill. I can't tell whether that's making me over- or underrate this. [6]

Ryo Miyauchi: "Ddu-du Ddu-du" shifts shape every other section like an EDM-pop puzzle to crack, and its last robotic roar is admittedly thrilling. But the constant change of environment conceals the fact that they haven't quite figured out how the rap and vocal sections ought to work in relation to each other. Everyone gets to share the stage, but no one feels as though they've had enough airtime to get out all of what they want to say. [5]

Alfred Soto: There's enough going on rhythmically to threaten my woofers, and the drops surprise me. Not enough to distinguish the singers, but that's my fault. [7]

Jessica Doyle: I mean, I know the storyline that YG won't give these women a break is both shopworn and underinformed, but it feels kind of typical at this point that "Ddu-du Ddu-du" only starts getting interesting after everyone's finished singing. [4]

Anjy Ou: A noisy, plodding mess. The vocals are uninspired, the rapping is dull save Jennie in verse two (bless her, these two points are hers and hers alone), and the belting in the pre-chorus leads you nowhere -- the only thing indicating that it's a chorus is a "point" dance move. The girls think they're talking a good game as empowered, badass chicks, but it's painfully obvious they're not the ones holding the pistols. I highly doubt that, if given the choice, they would choose "2NE1 but younger/hotter/skinnier" as their gimmick. It's not their fault that the spectre of the older group lingers -- their management has stuck them with Teddy as songwriter/producer/director(???), who can't seem to find that dynamism that made me love his work with CL et al. If you're here for an in-your-face girl group, BananaLemon is much more convincing. If you're here for the music, you're better off going back and listening to 2NE1. [2]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

#blackpink #k-pop #music #new music #music video #music writing #music reviews

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promisedangel · 7 years ago

Text

Dollywood Review

Welp, now I know one of my friends knows of my Tumblr, so I kinda have to put this up.

Tuesday: -Travel day. Drove from home to Tennesse in about ten hours with the stops. Made more than we should have, but that’s mostly because one gas station was being a pain with my card, so I cash prepaid a bit and then got out of there cuz I was pissed at the damn machine. -Was snowing when we left our home in Ohio. Once we got near Cincinnati, no more snow! NO MORE SNOW! -Lovely scenery on the way to Pigeon Forge. -Once again, my mind saves me from boredom. I wanted to put Critical Role on in the car, but with three other people, it would be a captive audience. y mind instead went to dumb and fantasy scenarios to pass the time as I shuffled the music on my phone. -HOLY SHIT Pigeon Forge is such a tourist trap! There’s so much stuff to do there! We only went for Dollywood, but we are considering going back to do more touristy things. -The hotel we stayed at, the Music Road Hotel, was GORGEOUS! We loved it. Beds were a bit weird for me; I kept tossing and turning one night, and I think it was the firmness of the bed. Dunno. -After we got settled, we heard about this alpine coaster, which is a track that uses the mountainside to have a coaster-like experience. The one we heard of first, Pigeon Forge Alpine Coaster, was unfortunately closed for seasonal repairs. BUT, it was set to reopen Friday, the day we leave. We decided to do it then. -Went down the road some more and found ANOTHER alpine coaster not too far from the first one. It was called the “Goat Coaster” at Goats on the Roof of the Smokey Mountains. Loved it, great start. -Went to a place called Calhoun’s for dinner. Pretty good place. Had my only glass of booze for the whole trip there. I liked my chicken sandwich, but I wish they put honey mustard on it. -Went back to the hotel and found out one of my friends brought his Nintendo Switch! We played Mario Kart until it was time for bed. We had Dollywood in the morning!~

Wednesday: -The first day of Dollywood! -Decent breakfast at the hotel. Too used to bacon, cuz they had none and I was sad. They had some good tea, though! -Got to everything we wanted to, so this’ll be the long one. -CUBBIES! Oh my gods. Every single ride had cubbies for stuff! Love it! -Played Pokemon Go a lot of the time at Dollywood in between rides. Got a lot of pokemon and powered up a couple I already had. Got my first Moltres there <3 -First up was Lightning Rod. Pretty fun ride. Has a lot of airtime that kinda jerks you a bit. Could do with a little more padding but it doesn’t really hurt ya. -Had some fun doing some flat rides. The Carousel, bumper cars, swings, sky rider, Dizzy Disk. Pretty fun. -Went and got some of the supposedly famous cinnamon bread. It was good, but not overly so. But that’s also not the thing I’m overly into. -Brainstormer was fun, always good to have a giant swing ride. -Saw the park had its own Bald Eagle preserve and displayed some other birds like owls, hawks, and a raven! You never know how big ravens actually are until you see one! They’re twice as big as you think they are. Beautiful birds. -Blazing Fury was kinda boring dark ride. It was interesting to have a fire figther theme, but they didn’t really do much with it. -The Tenesse Tornado was really fun! Even though it was mostly just a few loops. Short, but sweet. But the walk to the loading station was so darn long! Kinda common for these rides. -Wild Eagle! Probably one of my favorite rides in the park! Nice wing coaster with awesome airtime and the turns take you by surprise in the back! -Firechaser Express was a fun little family ride. The surprise backward part was fun! -Drop Line was a fun little drop tower that spun you on the way up! Still think the one in King’s Island was better. -Had some trouble with Thunderhead at first. It’s an older wooden coaster so younger coaster enthusiasts will think it’s bumpy. Take my advice that I learned on the second day; sit in the back, it’s tamer back there and you get sweet airtime on the turns. -We hit the water rides next cuz it was in the seventies and we didn’t want to do them the second day cuz it dropped to the fifties. We hit River Rampage first. We didn’t get as soaked as we were expecting, but most of our pants were soaked while our tops were mildly so. The ride also teased times we could have gotten soaked. -Daredevil Falls also didn’t get us too soaked. Two of us stood on the bridge to purposefully get soaked. Also, one of the operators noticed two of us wearing brony t-shirts and commented positively in a way we didn’t get at first but we laughed at regardless. -Rockin’ Roadway was one of those nice little automated car rides. Just nice. -Relaxed on the Dollywood Express. Got a little history of the area and park with a couple laughs. It was a real steam engine, too, so there was a bit of soot and some of us had to cover their mouths. Still found some soot on our clothes after we returned to the hotel. -The Mystery Mine was closed until near the end of the day cuz of mechanical issues. So we hit it last. This ride had the best theming in the park and was fun overall. Pretty lite in intensity until the end, but it can bump your head around a bit if you’re not careful. -After the park closed, we changed out of any wet clothes at the hotel and went out to dinner. The same guy who brought the Switch found this restaurant called the Old Mill and it was AWESOME. Good southern three-course meal for about $20 per person. Had some authentic southern sweet tea with it. Started with corn fritters, salad, and corn chowder. Didn’t care for the chowder but the fritters were so good! Next was our main dishes. I got the country fried ham and OH MY GODS IT WAS LIKE I WAS EATING A GIANT PIECE OF BACON IT WAS SO GOOD! We also got dessert. I got a good chocolate cake while two of our group had a blackberry cobbler that they said they would sell someone’s soul for. Seriously. If you ever go to Pidgeon Forge for any reason, eat here! -Relaxed in the room with more Switch before bed.

Thursday: -This was our relax day. We took things slower and rerode anything we wanted to and ignored what we didn’t. Wild Eagle eventually got closed for the day, but not before we rode it a couple times. -We took our time and did some shopping. Bought a necklace for my moirail and two plushies, a sheep and a fox. THE SHEEP IS SO ADORABLE and the fox is prety cute too. -Since we did Pokemon Go things, three of us did a raid which we won! But I was the only one who didn’t get the pokemon from it! I was so pissed. -We ate at the buffet in the park for an early dinner. Funny story about it. The guys wanted to reride the flat rides, but the girls of the group didn’t. We decided to split off and do our own thing and meet at the buffet. So, the guys went on the teacups and one of them spun the cup as fast as he could. We found that he got the other one kinda sick cuz of it. Our waitress at the buffet, Charla, was so concerned about him, asking if there was something she could do to help. He just walked outside the buffet a couple of times and got better. We eventually chatted with her throughout the meal. Lovely woman. -On the note of customer service, we loved the rumored ‘southern hospitality’! Everyone was so nice and things were served quickly! I swear, if someone was rude to the Dollywood staff, ESPECIALLY CHARLA, I swear I will physically manifest into the park and punch them in the face! They were nothing but nice, giving us directions when we mildly expressed some confusion among other things. -The buffet was good. Mac and cheese was a bit bland, but the mashed potatoes and the turkey were so good!! I regret not eating half of my second slice of turkey, but I wanted to save room for dessert. Then after I ate dessert, I had room, and I know I could have finished off the turkey T.T -Finished off with more rides on Lightning Rod before running to the bakery and sweet shops at the front of the park for some chocolate truffles, cookies, and cupcakes at the hotel. We were gonna get some monkey bread, but they were out of over an hour before we got to the shop. I got some truffles and a giant cookie. They were good. -We relaxed back at the hotel and began to pack up a bit to help ourselves in the morning.

Friday: -We had a nice surprise when we went down for breakfast at the hotel. This guy was down there with a cockatoo and another small bird i forget the name of! We was advertising this interactive bird zoo thing and we got to play with the birds! This guy next to us was playing with one of the birds when we had the other one. It was clear he was a bird guy. He flipped the small one onto his back and gave him belly scratches. He snuggled the cockatoo and gave her neck scratches. They were in heaven. The cockatoo liked to nibble lightly at our sweatshirts and was pretty chill. The other guy liked to explore and zip to our shoulders. He even gave one of us kisses! I was so jealous. -We went to the alpine coaster that was closed. It was a lot of fun. Better than the one at Goats on the Roof, but both of them were still fun. -We said our goodbyes to Pidgeon Forge and headed home. Got stuck in some Cinncinatti traffic, but we were fine other than that. Arrived later than I would have liked, but we also kinda stopped a lot so that’s on us.

Overall, good trip!

#dollywoood #promised reacts #rambles #long post

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