#but I’m very proud of it I scripted it out as a joke and then went

[acaciapines]

just finished the sketch for my scary dndads animatic. i am so very normal about this podcast (<- lying)

[the-witty-pen-name]

Love is Blind (Part 3)

Eddie Munson x PlusSize!F!Reader

Summary: In a last ditch effort to evade the normal disappointments of dating, a group of misfits desperate to have someone see who they are on the inside volunteer for the most recent brain chemistry study at Hawkins Lab. 

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut in later parts (part 4), reader has low self-esteem and struggles with self love/acceptance, anxiety/trauma related to bullying, tooth rot worthy fluff, Eddie being a major flirt, cursing, mentions of substance use, descriptions of bullying & people being jerks but like also very overdone tropes, mentions of smut

A/N: Please let me know if you liked it!! Feel free to send me an ask if you want to fangirl with me over these two because I cannot stand them at this point. LOL Or if you want to share any ideas/predictions for upcoming parts with me or other ideas for future stories with Eddie, I would love to hear them. Also, if I forgot to include a warning that should be included, please let me know!

Series Masterlist

“Eddie.” 

“Hey, Eddie.” 

“Earth to Eddie.”

“EDDIE.” 

“Shit! Sorry,” he says, breaking out of his thoughts and coming back to reality. He stares at his notes in his DM folder and he literally has no idea where the campaign has left off. He clears his throat and awkwardly flips through the pages. “Umm..”

“We just made it to the fishing town and we were tasked by a local merchant to kill a sea serpent that’s poisoning the local fish in exchange for..”

“Oh yeah,” he interjects, grabbing the correct script he needs to continue. “Uh, did you roll..?”

“Are you kidding me, man! What the hell?” Gareth exclaims, exasperated. “What’s wrong with you today?” 

Eddie’s face turns pink, shaking his head and ignoring the question. He was not going to admit to being distracted. He’s not embarrassed to talk to the guys about you, but he hasn’t told anyone he signed up for the study. He didn’t want to admit he was desperate or lonely, he’s too proud. He knows his friends don’t care, but it’s a mental block he can’t pass. 

“Nothing, I’m good. Just let it go,” he says defensively. 

“No way. Fucking spill it,” Jeff laughs. 

Eddie racks his mind for the most sane way to answer their questions. He sighs, pushing a mess of his curly hair out of his face. 

“Who is she?” Gareth asks, raising an eyebrow. 

***

DAY FOUR

“I’m mad at you,” Eddie says, and you roll your eyes. 

“What did I do now?” You ask, playful sarcasm evident in your voice. 

“You’re throwing me off my game”

“I don’t even know what you mean by that.” 

“Obviously because I’m really cool and popular,” he jokes, “I’m a Dungeon Master as you know.” 

“Yup, I’m familiar,” you toy. 

“My friends called my ass out so many times last night for not paying attention and I kept fucking up.” 

“I don’t appreciate you pinning this on me,” you chuckle. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Lies!” He says in a bravado. “You are the distraction! You have managed to weasel your way into every aspect of mind- I hope you’re proud of yourself. I’m probably going to be dethroned. My reign is over.”

You bite your bottom lip, to hold back the goofy smile you know is creeping over your whole face. Never before has anyone made you feel like this. The notebook to keep track of other “dates” is long forgotten. You only want to continue talking to Eddie. You wonder if any of the other people you spoke to felt a connection this strong. You’re dying to know if there are other people who feel as good as you right now. 

“What were you thinking about?” you ask shyly. You can hear the way it makes Eddie stop in his tracks. You assume he wears some sort of chain on his pants cause you can hear it when he paces, but suddenly, his end of the wall falls silent.

“How honest do you want me to be?” he asks, suddenly sounding shy. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I could go the cheesy, romantic, ‘I was thinking about you’ way- which is true. Or, I could be brutally honest because ‘I was thinking about you’ in this context has much more implications than that.” 

“You’re confusing me,” you laugh, “just tell me.”

“Do you ever fantasize about when we get out of here? In like, a you know-”

“Like sexually?” you ask, throwing him a bone. He was drowning. 

“Yeah,” he admits, and you can hear the chain on his pant leg as he fidgets. 

“Yes,” you answer honestly, “I do.”

“I think about it all the time,” he says, the confession spilling out, “The fact that I can’t touch you is driving me fucking insane. It’s not even like just like the thought of getting to fuck you- it’s like being close to you and like feeling your body heat, or like the weight of you sitting on my lap, what it feels like to just touch your skin- just everything that we’re being denied. I don’t even have a visual in my head to go off of it’s just like- I don’t know, man…”

You wince at the mention of sitting on his lap. “I don’t know if you’d want me on your lap for a long time..,” you sound defeated. 

“Um, don’t speak for me,” he cuts you off, playfully. “Any man who doesn’t want the full weight of his woman on his lap is a fucking idiot. Ugh, I don’t even think you understand just how amazing it is. I don’t care if you try to fight me on this, princess. You’re sitting on me, and I will love every second of it.” 

“I’m not thin, Eddie,” you whisper, feeling defeated. You hear him blow a raspberry and then he knocks on the wall. 

“I… don’t… care,” he emphasizes by drawing out each word. “You need to believe me. I couldn’t care less about your weight, your height, your hair… whatever  it is. I like you! And that means I like every part of you.”

His voice begins to raise, like he is yelling up, “If these fuckers would realize we’re done already and let me out.” He then lowers his voice like he’s looking back to the wall. “I want you. The experiment fucking works, I wish I could show you what you do to me cause maybe then it’ll finally stick. I’m going out of my mind that I can’t touch you and show you how much I want you, your body, everything. Do you need me to spell it out?” 

“Would you have still found me attractive if we met outside of this experiment?” you ask, “I bet you wouldn’t have even looked my way if you saw me at a bar or something.”

“Sweetheart,” he coaxes, “absolutely. I know that I would’ve been annoying the shit out of you for your number. You’d have been the one to reject me, I guarantee it.” 

“I would have never,” you reply. 

“So if it’s possible for you to know that you wouldn't have rejected me without seeing me,” Eddie muses, “why can’t you believe the same for me?”

“You haven’t asked me a single thing about my appearance,” he continues, “Do you care how much I weigh? Do you care if I’m short?”

“Not at all. I haven’t thought about it,” you admit. 

“I haven’t either. Now, please let me have my fantasy of you sitting on my lap please,” he whines, “I need something to get me through the day, Christ.” You laugh at his fake annoyance. 

You’re so happy at how he’s able to talk you down. It amazes you how he’s able to see through the insecurities and brings you back down to Earth. 

“Okay, okay,” you say, settling back into the couch and getting comfortable. You rest your head back. 

“I don’t know, basically, we’re in the middle of the campaign- I literally spent weeks writing it,” he continues, “and I literally just can’t stop thinking about how amazing it would be if you were there. I’m just sitting there, thinking about what it would feel like to just have you sitting on my lap while we’re playing and then I’m thinking about how I want to feel lean back on me and I’d have my arm around your waist holding you, and maybe I’d rub little circles on the side of your thigh and I thought about how soft you probably feel and then suddenly I’m sporting the most embarrassing boner which thankfully no one saw- Fuck, this is what you’re doing to me.”

***

“Is there any way to end the trial early?” Eddie asks, sitting in the interview room. There’s a man putting a pulse oximeter on his right index finger and another testing his blood pressure with a monitor on his left side. 

Two other technicians sit across from Eddie, taking notes from Eddie’s answers on a clipboard. They have tested his levels of dopamine and norepinephrine. They’re taking extensive notes on Eddie’s physical reactions to you, and the same is done to all of the candidates- including you. They continue to ignore Eddie’s questions as they ramble on about his levels of oxytocin. 

“In order for us to gather all of the information necessary, this isn’t possible,” one of them finally answers. 

“But I’m telling you how I feel- I’m telling you it works,” he insists. 

“Mr. Muson,” one says, closing a file folder that contains his charts. “This is a study in brain chemistry. You agreed to participate for the designated number of days and in exchange you’d receive compensation. Your conversations between yourself and the other candidates is not our business, nor what you choose to do afterwards. Our job here is to collect data, not the details of your personal life.” 

“I can’t believe this,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. He pulls off the oximeter and grabs his jean jacket. He walks out, despite their protests, flipping them off as he goes. He couldn’t care less about the lousy $200. As far as he was concerned, they poked and prodded the two of you enough. 

Of course, he did show up the next day. Promptly with a big grin on his face, he walked in with a happy go-lucky attitude that the entire lab team was secretly sick of dealing with. These sudden outbursts and dramatic tirades were becoming a staple of Eddie’s interviews and they equally couldn’t wait to be done with him. 

***

DAY FIVE

“Are these dice?” You ask with a chuckle, opening the small, black velvet bag that’s been left for you on the table in the room. You empty the bag out into your hand and watch as the dice roll into your palm one at a time. They’re all red and shimmer as you move them around in your cupped hand. 

“Well, I wanted you to have them,” you hear his voice explain from the other side of the wall. You’re beaming as you carefully pour them back into the bag and tie it off. 

“This is so sweet, Eds,” you marvel. “I love them.” 

“I also brought my guitar and like in a non-douchebag way I was kind of hoping to play something for you,” he says, his guitar perched on his lap. “I’ve just been working on this song and I wanted your opinion on it.” 

It's surprisingly soft sounding. You were expecting heavy guitar, something really metal based on what Eddie has told you about his music taste and his band. It’s slower paced, like a dreamy, slow rock ballad. 

You wished you could see him, observe how he looks when he’s concentrating or how his fingers look strumming against the cords. You just know he has the most beautiful hands. You imagine his fingers and try to visualize them flexing as he strums. You’re so distracted by it that you almost miss him singing a verse. 

“It’s not done yet,” he prefaces, still strumming. “I’m still working on the lyrics so don’t think too much about them, just like the meaning and the melody you know?” 

“Yeah totally,” you hum in agreement. “I think it sounds great.” He smiles at the praise. 

***

Before

You anxiously sit by the front window, peeking out between the blinds occasionally. You smooth out the skirt of the new dress your mom bought you, and you make sure your hair is still how you requested. Your mom let you wear makeup and you picked eyeshadow that matches your dress and you feel like a million bucks. It’s your ninth grade formal, and the star of the JV basketball team asked you to be his date. 

The minutes tick by and the time changes from reasonably late to stood up. You still hold out hope, and reject your parents' offers to just drive you to the dance. It’s been 45 minutes now, and you still hoped he’d be there. It was long past an hour that you admitted that he wasn’t coming. 

The following Monday you learned the whole thing was a prank, and he never wanted to ask you to the dance. It’s in the school paper that he’s at the dance, dancing cheek to cheek with one of the cheerleaders, who you can’t help but compare yourself to. 

***

Eddie is sitting at the middle school cafeteria table alone. He’s about a hundred pages into the Hobbit and the crusts of his peanut butter sandwich are forgotten about on the crinkly brown paper bag Uncle Wayne packed his lunch in. He’s long forgotten he’s sitting alone, far too engrossed in the story to care, when suddenly his head is yanked back by someone tugging on his t-shirt. 

“What’s up, Freak?” the voice asks before shoving Eddie back towards the table. He catches himself on the edge before his head comes in contact with the surface. He winces as anger boils up inside him. The three jocks laugh amongst themselves until a familiar voice shoos them away. 

“Sorry about them,” she says apologetically as Eddie looks to see her. Chrissy. He notices how she glances from him to the cafeteria table where the cheerleaders sit, and Eddie knows she doesn’t want to be seen with him for too long. 

“You can go, I’m fine,” Eddie says, forcing a laugh to make her feel better. “But, uh, I wanted to ask you-” 

“Okay, thanks,” she says, cutting him off and practically skipping to sit next to the prick who shoved him. Eddie recoils as the jock’s arm wraps around her. Eddie rolls his eyes and gets up to have lunch outside. Along with the remains of his lunch, he shoves the necklace he meant to give her in the bin. He’d stayed up past his bedtime, Wayne showing him how to drill a small hole into the top of one of his guitar picks to put a metal jewelry loop through so it could be put on a silver chain. 

***

You’re sitting at the table in the dimly lit restaurant and sipping on your cocktail when you see him walk in. He matches the description your friend gave you, and you feel yourself smile at how cute he is- definitely living up to the hype. Your friend spent weeks convincing you to go out on this date- one of her boyfriend’s best friends. They’re in the same fraternity. 

You can see as he walks into the dining room, he’s looking around trying to find his date. You offer a smile when he makes eye contact, and you offer a small wave. 

“James?” You ask, “you’re exactly like how Donna described you.” He offers a polite closed lipped smile, and a nod, taking a seat across from you without saying anything. 

As the date continues, you notice you’re doing a lot of the talking. You ask him questions and you’re met with a lot of one word answers. He looks detached, checking his watch and his attention seems to be wandering throughout the restaurant at anything but you. By the time your entrees arrive, he yawns. 

“I’m sorry, did I do something or say something?” you ask, hesitantly.

“No, no you’re good,” he says, straightening his posture like it would correct the behavior he’s been exhibiting. 

He pays for dinner, and you ask if he’d like to do this again sometime (just to be polite, you knew it was going nowhere). He sucks in air from between his teeth, and lets out an exhale. 

“You’re a nice person,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets as he waits for the valet to bring his car. “I’m sorry, but you aren’t really my type. Tom didn’t tell me anything about you really. I just felt like we didn’t click.” You notice the way his eyes scan your body, the unspoken awkwardness of you knowing what he isn’t saying. You nod, and say strained goodbyes as he gets in his car. You wished you were more surprised. 

***

Eddie is met with dirty looks when he approaches a girl at the bar. He feels her eyes on his tattoos and on his clothes, judging him. He sees her friend, who's also looking at him, lean in and whisper something and they both laugh. He knows the joke is on him, yet again. 

He opts to hang where he is, leaning against one of the high top tables, when he watches another guy approach her. He’s muscular, of course he is, and Eddie looks down at his own torso in comparison as this guy’s abs strain his shirt. Eddie scoffs, but now feels incredibly insecure at how his own shirt hangs loosely on his figure. 

***

DAY SIX

“Are you still worried about tomorrow?” Eddie asks, playing haphazardly with his rings as he sits with his forearms rested on his thighs. 

“A little,” you admit sheepishly. “Are you?” 

“More excited than nervous,” he replies honestly. “This whole thing has been fucking wild,” he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Insane,” you agree, laying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. 

“I just wanted to ask, no pressure,” Eddie says, clearing his throat, “Uh the other day, when we talked about, you know- what’s gonna happen when we see each other…”

“Yes?”

“You said to not hold back, I don’t remember exactly what it was but along the lines of ‘I don’t want you to hold back. Just whatever feels right to you in that moment, do it. Kiss me, touch me, I’m down for everything.’ Or something. I just want to make sure…”

“You don’t remember exactly, huh?” you tease. 

“Is that still what you want?” he asks earnestly. 

“Without a doubt,” you smile.

PART 4

TAGLIST

@woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @ali-r3n @cherrycolas-things @hellfirebabe666 @trixyvixx @stardancerluv @i--wont-run-this-time @mewchiili @muamazon4 @1975lily @sadbitchfangirl @strangerthings36 @fanficfanatic000 @andrearose89 @sosawwycantrelate @animechick555

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

ii. do you really wanna know where i was april 29th?

— the one where you and him end up in the same room at the same time.

warnings: kind reminder that the pictures are just used for entertainment and don’t describe what the main character is supposed to look like also, there are some f1 inaccuracies but this is fiction so please ignore them thank you❤️ 2k words.

masterlist ✢ next

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View comments

softyn it’s so good to see you having fun!!

myaid4nfeels so you’re already on the hunt huh

poppyseeds mother!! suddenly I love fast cars vroom vroom

greenleafss @/priscibby you were right she def has another man

frenziekenzie okay cool but I need you to talk about Aidan I’m a child of divorce.

Baku, Azerbaijan, April 29th.

HERE, here is where you end up when you let your agent say yes to every commercial offer you get no matter how random it is. And one day late, to top things off. Many people are angry at you, and you’re getting an earful as soon as the cameras shut down, but for now all you can do is laugh at terrible jokes, like the lady that you are, pretend to sip the frankly horrendous energy drink your manager keeps handing you, and appear very sorry about your previous absence.

You’re not even supposed to be here, you had no idea signing the stupid contract with Red Elix forced you to come to every sponsor event that they had. Having become the most recent sponsor for Ferrari’s F1 team, the men in charge couldn’t wait to show you off, their most important ambassador. Or their shiniest toy, it's all semantics.

"Come on, the shootout is about to start!" the old man whose name you have already forgotten holds your hand, leading you away from the refreshments table where you're looking something drinkable, preferably with alcohol, although it wouldn't help your jetlag.

You spent the eighteen hours of your flight on a F1 binge, because you weren't about to make a fool of yourself by showing up to a Grand Prix having zero idea of whatever was going on other than the cars going really, really fast. Some things are still mildly confusing, like the point distribution and why on Earth there is a sprint race and then a 'real' race the next day. But you're proud of your ability to retain information, you're an actress after all, there are a hundred scripts loaded into your brain.

"We root for the red cars, sweetheart," the man is still holding your hand and it's starting to feel gross, it's papery and sweaty at the same time. It's like he's talking to a child, ennunciating slowly and clearly, and then pointing at the screen where they take turns to focus on drivers sixteen and fifty-five.

Unsurprisingly, you'd figured as much, you're in the Ferrari Suite, everything is fucking red. A wave of annoyance runs through you, but you're used to men being patronizing, so you just smile and take the chance to slip your hand out of his grip, covering your face coyly. "I'll keep an eye on them!"

He turns around after laughing at your 'cuteness' or stupidity, really. Men love laughing at women, especially those whom they deem to be dumb.

"Could you please, please, get me some water? Not Elix, not anything else, water." you whisper to your manager just as he's made himself comfortable to watch the Sprint Shootout. He sends a resented look your way but still gets up from his chair to get you a closed bottle of water. Walter is being forced to be here as much as you are, at least he doesn’t have a contract that keeps him tied to Elix for every race.

The man from before is talking to you again and you try your best not to shut down and tune him out. He's explaining the rules of the Shootout but you couldn't care less about anything that leaves his mouth, also the cars are already coming out of their respective garage and there's so much noise it doesn't even matter how much he adjusts the volume of his voice.

Charles and Carlos, you have learned their names after an hour of having their enlarged picture stare at you from the main wall of the Suite. Charles ended up in first place and he's starting P1 later and tomorrow. Nice. Carlos is struggling a little, apparently, but seeing how fast these silly cars go and how tight the curves are, you can't blame him.

As soon as the Shootout is over, there is chaos again. You are dragged here, there and back, forced to smile for pictures with strangers who have the audacity to squeeze your waist and whisper in your ear, well, that's definitely worse than having to drink the Red Elix.

There is another rush as both drivers come back for a debrief and to get some rest before the Sprint, they're a blur surrounded by people in red uniforms blabbering instructions, and the shouts of 'good job!' and 'i love you!' that have followed them from the paddock.

"Mr. Schafer…” a boney boy with glasses leans down to talk to the guy that has branded you as his for the evening.

Schafer gives him a dirty look, annoyed by the interruption of his incredibly boring story about how he is a self-made multimillionaire. "What?" he barks.

"They- they said not now," the boy whispers shyly, no, not shyly, scared. "They said the drivers need to focus, but maybe later after the Sprint..."

A can of Elix flies in the air and you look in poorly disguised repugnance at the way it puddles close to your Air Force sneakers. The boy has taken a step back, now visibly shaking and your disgust is redirected to the man that just yelled at him and is throwing a temper tantrum.

"Not right now?!" he continues, face turning purple. "What if I had said 'not right now' when they asked me to give them MY money, huh?!"

"T-they said—"

"I don't care what they said! It's your job to get the pictures of them with the Elix! You're useless!"

Other people are staring at you, including most of the Ferrari Hospitality Team, and it makes you feel embarassed that they have most likely pegged you as similar to Schafer from how inseparable you are.

"Why don't we calm down a bit?" you soothe, forcing yourself to run your hand down his arm and back up. "You know how these pilots are, divas at best."

You don't know either of the guys who have disappeared inside the Suite, and by the looks the Hospitality Team gives you once again, you're certain you are completely mistaken. But you don't care, because the media boy is giving you a grateful look, and although he's still visibly fuming, the money guy has stopped yelling.

"You're right sweetheart," Schafer says patting your hand and taking it back to his arm. "Later, then." he warns the media boy, who takes that as his sign to run away.

────────────

Ferrari is full of hope and celebrations when the Sprint ends, you're once again paraded around but at least it's way more fun this time. You get to be near the podium and witness first-hand whatever rituals they play out. The fun is short-lived though, when you are warned by your manager that Mr. Schafer wants to take you out to dinner tonight, you don't have or want to know more, you know what he wants to achieve.

You walk back to the Suite with your manager, trying your best to avoid Mr. Schafer, who is frantically looking for you. He's missing his arm-candy badly.

Your jetlag has worsened, and you have a terrible headache, plus however much Elix you've drank despite taking the smallest sips possible, is making you nauseous.

You need five minutes to yourself. It's all you ask for. You haven't even been able to get a break in the fucking bathroom. Your manager is constantly yelling, already getting his own frustration out on you for whatever shit the Elix team gave him after you missed the first day of the Grand Prix.

In the midst of the chaos, you slip away. Eager to find a place to breathe and enjoy your own company. Or dissociate, again, semantics.

You find yourself in front of two doors with the numbers sixteen and fifty-five identifying whom they each belong to. They are empty, and you know it because both drivers are still in their debriefing/celebration/whatever else they could be doing that once again, won't allow them to pose for the Elix post-race photos.

You are at a crossroads, you are well aware this are private rooms for a reason, but you also know there isn't anywhere more deserted than these rooms.

Sixteen or fifty-five? Who is least likely to freak out if by any miscalculation on your part they found you here? Well, one of them ended the day on a happier note than the other, so...

You open the door marked with the number sixteen and sigh in relief. Five minutes and that's it. Then you can go back and play dumb to Schafer and beg for you manager to finally take you to the hotel.

There is a miscalculation on your part, and five minutes later, just as you're about to get up and leave (after stealing one bottle of water and a granola bar from Charles' stash) the door opens again, revealing the disheveled driver, holding a small plaque with a number two in one hand and a Pirelli cap in the other. He is far more handsome up close, there isn't a screen or photograph that does him justice, and you've seen plenty of both during the day.

"You are not supposed to be here," is the first thing he says, frowning.

"I know," you feign nonchalance as best you can, although you are embarrassed. "I was leaving."

Charles still wears that confused expression on his face, and it makes you glad it hasn't changed to anger. "What were you doing here?"

"Stealing your refreshments," which is not a lie, as you're still holding both things in one hand, not without struggle.

He's not freaking out, which comes across as strange. How many times has he come to his private room to find a random girl waiting for him?

"Should have taken the Elix," he mutters, throwing the Pirelli cap in the empty part of the couch you had been occupying minutes before. "That thing is disgusting."

You can't help but chortle a laugh. "Glad you think so,"

Awkward silence finally falls in the room, and you know that's the signal for you to exit. You're still invading his privacy and while you're glad he really didn't seem to mind, you don't know how much longer he will be so patient.

"Don't tell anyone you were here, okay?" he calls after you, "Someone might get fired."

You nod but he doesn't see you, already minding his own business in his little private bubble. You're jealous to leave him in a space all to himself.

────────────

It takes an hour to get both drivers and you in the same room for the pictures Elix is dying to get. This is far from ridiculous, but you have a contract and so does Ferrari, so you don't have much of a choice.

"Are you feeling better?" Charles asks, and you think he's talking to his team mate until he clears his throat right in front of you. He's holding the Red Elix, just like the one in his private room.

"Who? Me?" you ask stupidly, and then you take a sip of the Gold Elix in your hand, it's so much worse than the Red.

"Yes, you."

"I'm okay, why?" you're suddenly defensive, this is the second time this guy sees you and he's acting all weird.

"Good," he says and also drinks from his Elix, failing to hide his distaste with a purse from his lips. "This thing is really gross," he whispers, and this time his teammate does join the conversation only by laughing.

Both must be exhausted and yet they're trying to put on a good show for the sponsors.

"I'm sorry about intruding in your room," you lower your voice, squeezing your drink.

Charles shrugs lightly, and drinks again, this time without grimacing. "Sometimes I need five minutes too."

You smile, and it's the first sincere smile you've shown all day.

"My mum likes your movies," he says casually, as someone yells that you need 'just one more picture, please!'

You dread the part where he says something along the lines of "Supercut is the best!" but instead, after he stops the automatic motion of taking the red can to his lips, he adds: "I like Loneliness, it's so depressing."

And you throw your head back to laugh.

─── team principal radio: ❝hello! thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed! i would appreciate to know your thoughts too! ♡❞

[dylansslutt]

blossom/ h.s

i dont own the gif!!!

i do however own my writings and all content i create, because my mind never turns off so these our my thoughts. i am not one to condone underage minor sexual stuff predo whatever, however there is a age gap.

people are of age obvi

warnings: mentions of; drugs, alc, smut

summary: you were niall’s younger sister, starting off fresh into the acting agency. being around the boy’s lead to the crush of one of them, what happens a few years later when you two gain some sort of “friendship.”

 growing up under the influence of your highly famous older brother, who was more glorified than you thought was necessary. it led to some really cool stuff as well, getting out of your small town, traveling to places never thought imaginable.

 now you were 21, finally settling in a nice flat in california. niall got the voice, yours could hold a tune but nothing special, of sorts. yet, acting was something you loved and dreamed of since childhood.

 you tried very hard to make sure you made your own way, not using your brother to boost anything. yet, he did help get you out into this type of world.

 sitting on your bed, your laptop in front of you with the new script you received from your agent.  harry’s new album softly playing in the back, smiling softly to yourself.

 harry was always someone you were close with, invited to his family gatherings on occasion, texting or calls when can. even though he was 5 years older than you, your mind couldn’t help but fantasize about him... like every other girl.

 you kept it strict though, always allowing him to just be the “other older brother.” your phone distracts you from your thoughts, seeing the one person you just had on mind.

 “y/n/n!” harry beams through the phone, you prop your phone up giggling. “hairball, ‘ello!”

 he frowns at his current nickname, but quickly pulls the phone closer. “is that my album?” you nod sheepishly, forgetting about the record playing in the background. 

 “it’s really good, harry! i’m so proud of ya’.” the compliment was sincere, you both being a great support system. you adjust your cropped hoodie as he smiles brightly, muttering a small thank you.

“i was told you would be attending the met gala this year.” you couldn’t help but let out the squeal of excitement. instantly grabbing your phone, pulling it closer. “never once, would i think i’d be invited. my manager said that a high fashion designer even wants to dress me on that event!”

 he laughs at your excitement, “i told ya’ darlin’, good things would come. ya’ been workin’ ya’ ass off.” setting the phone back down, you stare back at his reflection.

 “wait, who told ya’?” he rolls his eyes, “make me give my secrets, huh?”

 “i got the list secretly, i like to know whom i’m to be seated with; and your name was there but not as niall’s guest.”

 you laugh at that, “yes, i get to bring me own guest.” your dog jumps up on the bed, coming right onto your lap. “oh well sansa wants to say, ‘ello.”

 she was all in the way of the camera, you shooing her to lay down beside you. “well, do you have a date?” his question was simple, but your eyes widen a bit. you haven’t thought much, maybe bring your friend or whatever. mom wasn’t one for all the camera’s.

 “not quite, do you?” licking your lips, you pull the phone closer. harry was on the couch, lazy stubble and a white tee on. “nope, gemma couldn’t.” you frown at that, you and his sister were besties for sure.

 “aw i’d rather her than you.” the joke was sarcastic but he faked a sarcastic laugh, “ooo fiesty today.”

 “always am, did ya’ expect less?” the tease was building a tension you didn’t quite know why, but you squeeze your legs tight as his dimples show.

 “no, never with ya’.” he clears his throat, looking a bit more serious. “would ya’ wanna go with me? not like that of course, tabloids and stuff...”

 before he could continue a ramble to come, you quickly agree. “of course,  it be nice, ya’ know. instead of being alone or with someone i don’t really want.”

 both of you staring at your screens, happy with the agreement. “well, i got to get these lines down... but text me your clothing style so we can arrange something of sorts to match.”

 he scoffs, “ya’ and this always matching.” you roll your eyes, “hush, because ya’ know ya’ll end up doin’ it.” you pet sansa’s head which rested calmly on your lap.

 “whateva’, talk to ya’ soon, darlin’.” you smile softly at the nickname.

 “bye harold.” and with that you hung up, not even bothering with the lines. more so freaking out at the fact that your date to the event is now your brothers ex band mate...

 “what the hell just happened?” you glance at sansa, who just wags her tail.

-

a few weeks have passed, you and harry’s text becoming a daily thing. yet the energy was different, he was more open, more flirty?

 you couldn’t tell if he was actually flirting, but it was more nicknames, phone calls goodnight, goodmorning text, planning. everything making you long for the older boy even more.

 the met gala was in just a few days, harry was back in la, as well as you just got finished shooting a modeling gig. the time was around 6 in the evening, when you arrived home. sansa was at your best friend’s, dog sitting the baby since you have a busy few days.

 setting the few bottles of alcohol you stopped and grabbed, onto the counter along with your bag and coat. “alexa, play my chill playlist.” you call out to the scary robot, instantly the tunes of bob marley fill the room.

 walking into your bedroom, ridding yourself of the clothes and into more comfortable lounge wear. a phone call interrupted the music. shuffling back towards the kitchen, snooping through to find your phone.

 quickly answering, you set it down on speaker. “hi!” you call out not looking at you even phoned you. “well ‘ello.” harry’s voice calls out making you stop your motion.

 “well ‘ello, harold. what do i owe the pleasure of your calling?” you walk closer, picking the phone up. “im actually outside your door.”

 almost dropping your phone, you shake your head. “wh-no fuckin’-are ya-” the knock comes from your door aswell from the phone. hanging up and setting your phone down, you rush to unlock the door.

 the six foot something man stood infront of your smaller frame, eyes widen in surprise. “what the hell!” jumping up and wrapping your arms around his neck. his hands scoop around your thighs.

 a feeling rushes through you as he walks in, spinning you around softly. his grip tightens before setting you down back on your feet. “i didn’t know you were on this side of town?”

 he laughs softly, “i wasn’t but i wanted to see my favorite girl, before being in front of hundreds of people.” you smile at that turning towards the bought alcohol.

 “well, ya’ arrived on time. i just bought some drinks.” glancing back you notice his eyes on you, and where they were placed. right on your ass, since you didn’t realize you were gonna have company the shorts were your cute short short ones.

 “like old times, we can catch up and drink.” you shake your head, “not like last time though, i ended up sick as a dog!” he chuckles at the memory, heading into your apartment more.

 “i like it, it fits you.” he observes as you pour you both a glass of wine first. walking closer to him, you hand him the drinks. “thank ya’, the remotes are there. i’ll grab the blankets.”

 he gets situated on the couch, turning the tv on instantly going onto netflix. you open the cabinet under the tv, bending over slightly to pull out the biggest blanket for you two to share. his eyes bore onto you as you struggle with the material.

 standing up, glancing at his selection and seeing he chose a scary movie. “ooo finally.” you throw the blanket on him before settling beside him. “i remembered it was my turn last time.” he mumbles as he hands over your cup.

 you hum at that, taking a sip of the wine. “i thought ya’ would forget, bein’ busy and all.” shuffling the pillow a little, allowing yourself to rest against harry. legs now drape across his.  “

 “never.” he pulls you closer.

 “i’ve missed ya’.” you mumble out before glancing up at him, his eyes already on yours.

“i know... it feels so different from not seeing ya’ all the time.” you nod in agreement before taking a few more sips.

 “life has definitely been different for sure...” not even wanting to get into everything. “i never said anything about it, but you were too good for him.” he mentions your ex, timothy chamalet, which ended way over 5 months ago.

you roll your eyes, “it’s fine, trust me harry. i realize right now, im probably gonna be single for awhile, but thats okay.” the movie starts and you focus your attention back on the tv.

 harry leaves it be and downs his wine, as you finish yours. “lift up, i’ll grab us another one.” you obey moving your legs and handing over your empty glass. your fingertips graze each other, eyes locking together until you clear your throat.

 “thank you.”

 “of course.”

 settling down beside you the movie started getting more interested, but you couldn’t get the distraction of his warmth beside you, out your head. and of course now there was a relationship scene.

  clearing your throat softly, taking another sip and lift up. harry’s eyes catch yours confused, “i haven’t ate much today, wanna share a pizza?”

 “yea, sounds great.” leaving his embrace, you turn the oven on allowing it to pre-heat. finishing your wine, you turn and notice the first bottle was empty. a warm feeling rose through your cheeks from the alcohol,  opening the second bottle.

 not noticing harry was now behind you, you jump at the cup set down beside you. “oh gosh.” you giggle hand close to your chest, his deep chuckle matching yours.

 grabbing the bottle you pour you both another glass, “ya’ might as well stay the night. its getting later and i don’t want ya’ to drive super late.” he grabs his cup as you turn leaning back against the counter.

 him infront of you, “i already figured i would.” smiling at his response still settled between him, his eyes staring down at you. you could’ve sworn he flickered his gaze towards your lips, but you shake the thought. he takes a gulp of the wine before setting it back down.

 “my dress will be in tomorrow, i have a fitting in it later. which reminds me i need to text her” you update him on the outfit, rambling on was something he was use too. him only humming in response, staring at you as you take another sip of your wine.

 “you’ll look beautiful, either way.”

 his hand reaches upwards, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.  eyes connecting with each other. “well thank ya’.” not exactly knowing what to do, since his hand never drops from your face.

 in a stand still, he suddenly moves closer. lips inches from each other, his thumb caressing your cheek. sliding down to toy with your bottom lip.

 “y/n...” he says my name as almost a warning, his voice holding a edge i’ve never heard. the ding of the oven, pulls us away from the most intimate moment between you two.

 “i gotta put the pizza in.” the words were soft, maneuvering from underneath him. you pull the pizza out the box, uncovering the wrapper. feeling eyes on the back of your head, made you fumble nervously with the plastic.

 shoving it quickly in the oven, and turning the timer on. you now face the man that was running through your head. his expression undetectable, only tyhe wander of his eyes.

 “harry, i-” you try to come up with something to say, to ease the anxiousness inside you. “i have a question.”

 the statement threw you off guard, furrowing your eyebrows as he continues. “have you ever thought about us?”

 the swore your eyes almost fell out your head, already feeling the warmth on your cheeks. moving forward, grasping the cup, swallowing half the glass before giving a response.

 “what do ya’ mean us?” nice, smooth play. you were staring at the man in front of you, trying so hard not to be desperate and just jump his bones. he rolls his eyes, “don’t play dumb now.”

 grabbing the bottle, glass still in hand, you make way back over to the couch. “no idea what ya’ talkin’ about.”

 the words were spoken over your shoulder, deciding if he was going to ask such questions... he shall make the first move. you lean over more than needed, guiding your shorts up some as the bottle sets on the coffee table.

 standing up and glancing over at him, he was fidgeting. “fuck it.” the words left his lips and he advances forward; not expecting his hands around your face.

 both your lips smash together, you gasping in shock allows his tongue to enter your mouth. one hand slides down to your throat, holding it lightly in a teasing manner.

 your hands run up his chest landing onto his shoulders, his hands leave your face grasping underneath your thighs. laying you down carefully onto the couch, he pulls away.

 eyes wild, matching each others energy, you decide to take your shirt off. leaving your pierced nipples exposed. his gaze darkens at the sight of them, licking his lips lustfully.

 throwing his shirt off, he leans down cupping your left tit in his hand. before latching onto your right nipple, flicking and sucking on it. your hands fly into his hair, a soft gasp escapes your lips.

 his free hand moves your legs open, allowing himself properly inbetween you. moving it back to hold himself up, he switches nipples making you moan softly. he pulls away slowly, eyes boring into yours.

 “i wanna taste ya’, darlin’.” he mutters against your skin, slowly making way back up to your lips. his other hand now cupping your cunt, leaving you to clench your legs around his waist.

 he pulls his hand away, thrusting his bulge against your heat. eyes watching every reaction. “so pretty.” he captures your lips again, hands going around your waist lifting you slightly.

 a giggle escapes you as he pulls your panties down, leaving harry to stare a little confused. “what?”

 “yes, i’ve thought about us.” you finally confess, leaving him to spank you softly. the feeling felt like something you never felt before, you moving up a little. “harry.”

he hums as his eyes bore into your core, as if it was the first time he’s ever seen a girl naked. “i need ya’ to touch me.” the whining sound that left your lips, gave harry no second thought.

 he pulls you close to his face, him laying flatter on the couch. tongue pressed flat against your clit, sucking and swirling softly. the moans litter the room, your hands back in his hair tugging softly.

“fu-fuck.”

 he grips your waist, squeezing tightly as he moves up his pace. his left arm flattens against your stomach, holding you in place as a finger enters you. your free hand goes against your lips, hips bulking up against his grip.

 “oh fuck, harry.” you moan at the feeling of his second finger slide into you. his lips leave your folds, “ya’ taste so fucking good.”

 you could’ve came right there, but it was quicker than expected when his tongue was relentless against you. his fingers hitting a spot that was perfect, your legs began to shake.

 “ha-harry im-” the loudest, most pornographic moan that you never thought you could make escapes your lips.

 harry’s grip on your thighs tighten even more as you feel your wetness drip down onto the couch. hand flying to your mouth, then clenching the bundle of the blankets beside you.

 breathless and in bliss, you let out a breathe as harry licks you up after you calm down some. wiping your face, he kisses your thighs. alternating between the two. moving upwards leaving trail of kisses before stopping right in front of you.

 his hair was a mess and he looks so good, above you glowing in a small gleam. he smiles down at you, giggling up at him he kisses your forehead. “what?”

 you shook your head, only allowing yourself to stay in this moment for a second. “so much for a long time no see.” his dimples pop as he laughs, sitting upwards more slightly.

 “hey, watchin’ ya’ cum on my face. that’s a good long time no see present.” the words made your face heat up, moving to grab your shirt throwing it on. harry eyes follow you making you push him softly.

 “why are you starin’ mister.” you lean over him slightly grabbing your shorts and underwear. he just smirks shaking his head, you roll your eyes in a joking manner.

 “imma’ go to the loo.” he nods as you walk off towards your bathroom, knowing you needed to pee after being eaten out. also it gives you a second to digest how the fuck this all seem to go down.

  your shorts were balled up in your hands as you walk bare, turning back to catch his eyes focused on your behind. turning you flick the switch, your reflection showing how dishevel you look.

 you grab your hair brush, calming the frizzy mess; as well as applying some lip balm to your swollen lips. glancing at your reflection, you internally scream.

 you’ll be in public view soon with a man who has just made you cum, from his mouth. now he is acting all weird as well, like he might like me.

 there’s no way that’s not possible. shutting the light off along with the thought that you knew was not true. making way back into the living area, harry has the movie back on at the part we last actually can recall.

 the pizza dings, making me beam. i turn to get the pizza but harry calls me out, “stop, sit down and relax. i’ll grab it out.”

 your eyes widen at the sudden nice gesture, neverless you thank him and get comfortable again on the couch. leaning forward grabbing the cup, the touch of the cup on your lips made you shiver.

 your eyes glance over at harry and you knew it, your crush was becoming more. it didn’t matter if you got hurt, you wanted him in a way you thought never possible.

 he holds two plates as he makes way back over, “here ya’ are my lady.” the plate held a few delicious slices. “thank ya, my lord.”

 a small smile breaks way on both your faces, as you throw your legs over his getting comfortable. the plate rested on your lap as you press play on the remote.

  halfway through eating your pizza, a clicking sound from a phone comes from my side. my head jerking towards harry who just busts out laughing at the photo.

 “harry.” you whine, snatching the phone to look. “you can not show anyone that, i look horrible!” it wasn’t horrible but not the best.

 “okay okay, but im not deleting it. you’re too cute.” the comment made you take another bite, trying to cover up the remark you would’ve made.

 after finishing the pizza and wine, the movie was finished leaving the two of you yawning. you stood in the kitchen making yourself a water bottle, turning to sleepy harry.

 “ill make ya’ some water and bring you a aspirin just in case, if ya’ wanna go lay down.” you knew the poor boy was exhausted. he throws you a tired smile before shuffling to your room, as you grab an extra bottle for him to use.

 taking your aspirin right away, you put an extra one in your hand. flicking the kitchen light off, you head into your bedroom seeing harry laying there half sleep.

 “here take this.” you climb into bed, placing the pill in his hand as you give him his water. setting your water on your end table, you plug your phone up and look back over seeing harry’s eyes on you.

 “cuddle me.” he pulls you down, a gasp escapes you along with a small giggle. his arm was underneath your head along with his other around your waist. you felt snug and tight, you press yourself more into him.

 “night h’.” you mutter softly, he kisses the top of your head gently. “night darlin’.”

[snovyda]

Some quotes from the Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation script that I can’t stop thinking about (most of these are in the script but did not end up in the actual film or are slightly different in the finished product).

Benji (to Lauren, the lie detector operator): You changed your hair... (laughs) It’s a joke... because you... never change your hair. Or your expression.

****

Lauren: State your name. Benji: You ask me that question every week. Lauren: Your name. Benji: The King of Norway. His vitals [on the  lie detector] fluctuate. Benji: That was a lie. I’m actually third in line for the throne. His vitals don’t fluctuate.

****

Brandt: Western civilization is slowly coming apart. Hunley: It won’t happen on my watch.

****

Ethan (on com): Benji, do you copy? Benji tries to contain his reaction. He sort of manages.

****

Benji arrives at a service door marked with electronic symbols. He quickly works the lock and slips into a cramped space, humming with electrical conduits. He’s very out of place in a tux.

****

Ethan: Ever have a crisis of faith, Benji? Benji: More than once. Am I fighting for the right side? Should I really risk my life for a world that doesn’t seem to care? Ethan: And sometimes the answer is no. Beat. Benji nods, yes. He’s not proud of it. Ethan: It happens to the best of us. Of course, most of us come back from that place. But not all.

****

Ethan: If I can bring [Lane] down, I can make everything like it was. Maybe even get you your life back. Benji: Ethan, I’m back. This is my life. This is what I signed up for. Let me help you find him. Ethan: That’s why I brought you here, and look what happened. I gambled with your life tonight and I lost. I can’t be sure how this ends. I can’t protect you. That’s why I need you to leave.

****

Luther: Understand something... Ethan is my friend. If I doubt you forone second whose side you’re really on... I’ll take you out. Brandt considers this, nods. Brandt: I believe you.

****

Ilsa: [...] I can tell you it’s impossible. Ethan and Benji share a look. The game is afoot.

****

Brandt: DNA profiling, facial recognition, gait analysis... drone strikes. Drone surveillance. (points) And that guy can even read your vital signs over your home wifi? He knows you have a heart problem before your doctor does. He shakes his head as if to say: what have we become?

****

Benji: I appreciate everything you’ve done for me but, seriously, one of these days you’re going to take things too far. Benji tries to laugh. Ethan tries to say something but can’t. Benji’s smile gives way to sincerity. Benji: I owe you my life, man. Thank you.

****

Benji has a hood ripped off from his head to find himself seated in a chair, in a hotel room with a sweeping view of downtown London. Before him stands Lane, to his side, Vinter. As Benji glares: Lane: You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Benji: You’re not a ghost yet... But you will be. Lane smiles, leans in to Benji: Lane: Get him ready, please.

[b0ustr0phed0n]

Over-Dubbed:

How to Lose a German Character by Making them Speak German

(I've never posted on Tumblr before, and this essay is longer than I intended. Hopefully the formatting works okay.)

Getting lost in the translation

When people say something was “lost in translation,” they are speaking of incorrectly or incompletely rendered meaning—a joke that doesn’t land, a pun that doesn’t work, a reference no one knows. But there is another kind of loss. The paradoxical loss that occurs when a translation creates meaning from incomprehensibility.

I went to see Anatomy of a Fall last week on a whim, in a German theater, in Germany, where I live. I didn’t know anything about it going in except that it was about a murder case and had won awards. And I will confess, I grew nervous when I saw the wall of French text that precedes the film. It was unsubtitled, which I thought was a bad sign. And it was, just not in the way I anticipated. Soon a voice started speaking German and I relaxed. For a while.

Now first, let me say that the dubbing was excellent. Germany has a long-established dubbing industry and the translators, voice actors, sound mixers, et al. are good at their craft. Side note: Let me also thank the German marketing department for recognizing what a gift they had in the title translation (Anatomie des Falls) and letting it stand. There always seems to be a strong urge in German cinema to tack on a superfluous secondary title. The film could have easily ended up called Anatomie des Falls: Tot in den Alpen.* The voice actor for Sandra, the main character, does a wonderful job—she is calm, she is desperate, she is sometimes enraged. She stumbles and hesitates and sometimes seems to search for words, and the sounds of the hesitation markers are well-timed to the visuals. At no point did I feel—as I often do when watching German dubs—that the actors were struggling to get all the syllables out in the time it took the original actor to say the same thing in their language. But there is also another reason the voice actor does such a great job.

*You should also be proud of me for not titling this essay "Anatomy of a Fail"

If you have seen this film or read about it, or if you are aware of the main actor, Sandra Hüller, you will know that she is German. She’s dubbing herself. I did not know who she was, and so I began the film assuming she was French and so was her character. Not long into the movie, however, I began to feel like I was missing something. Something more than the usual flattening of character that takes place when actors with various regional accents and speaking patterns are all dubbed into flawless Hochdeutsch. It took me a while to pin down what was going on. It wasn’t until midway through the film, when Sandra looks over at a court interpreter before she starts speaking, that I realized that all of this immaculately overdubbed German was masking something important: Not everyone in this movie speaks the same language.

The film gives you a few clues in the dialogue that point to her being a foreigner, but they are easy to miss. And why not? To anyone listening to the original voices, it’s abundantly clear. Possibly there is some crucial information in the opening conversation between Sandra and an interviewer, but I couldn’t hear most of it over the booming music that is the real point of the scene. At one point in the film, she mentions that she had been happier living in London with her husband. She also says something about “starting in a little German village and ending up in a little French village.” She surely wasn’t speaking German, though, because that’s what I was hearing and her mouth didn’t match. So I figured she was probably English.

If you aren’t an experienced lip reader—and I’m not—it’s not easy to pick out what language someone is speaking underneath a dub. You have to translate backwards in your head very quickly, try and get slightly ahead of the script, and then watch to see whether the person’s mouth matches the words you think they ought to be saying. I definitely missed some visual details in the courtroom (apparently they had a big tapestry of Justice in there?) because I was staring intently at Sandra’s mouth. 

But eventually I was able to determine she was speaking English. Okay, I thought. Presumably she’s from England and prefers to speak her first language in a courtroom. Understandable. So would I. I must have misunderstood the line about Germany. Perhaps that line was changed in the dub script to reduce cognitive dissonance, since everyone listening would be hearing her speak perfect, accent-free German, the same as every other character.

This mystery solved, I moved on to the next: When is she speaking English? In court, obviously, but how about at home? Is she speaking English to her lawyer, who’s clearly an old friend? To her son? Did she and her husband communicate in English? Reader, I couldn’t tell. For one thing, it’s distracting and exhausting to spend the whole 2 ½ hours reverse-engineering English dialogue in real time (there’s a reason I’m a translator, not an interpreter), and for another, much of the dialogue between Sandra and her husband is reported speech, recreated through re-enactments, retellings, and audio recordings. There was no way to know how many layers of translation were involved.

Translation as theme

I’d like to pause for a moment (and I will!) to discuss some of the themes of the movie. If you haven’t seen it, don’t worry—I won’t spoil the ending. Sandra is accused of murdering her husband after their mostly-blind son finds him dead in the snow outside their home in the Alps. The film follows the investigation and trial, slowly revealing the secrets, struggles, and private grudges of the household. Sandra and her husband are/were both writers—one more successful than the other. They live in the village of his childhood. They argue about normal things: angst, guilt, feelings of inadequacy, who has sacrificed the most, what’s best for their child. At one point Sandra’s husband accuses her of stealing his ideas for her books.

In court, Sandra is tasked with interpreting these arguments for a hostile audience. A great deal of the runtime is spent clarifying feelings, relationships, moods, tones of voice, volume levels, et cetera. The media following the trial seem to find her interesting, but largely unsympathetic. In a flashback, her husband points out that she rarely smiles. Did she kill him? The film stubbornly refuses the audience access to unmediated facts. Even when we know there is more evidence, we have to wait to find out from an analyst in court like everyone else.

So: this is a film about translation. How do we translate observations into evidence? How do we translate our private lives for an audience? If you’ll permit me to wear my nerdiest of translator hats: In essence, all communication is translation. When you speak to someone, you are translating your thoughts into a new medium—spoken words—and hoping the listener will succeed in translating these words into thoughts that approximate yours. The fact that this is an imperfect process is evidenced by all the ways we misunderstand each other. Every layer of mediation results in a slightly altered reality. This is a crucial and often misunderstood aspect of translation: the translator’s job is not to recreate the same words in a new language or medium, it’s to recreate, as much as possible, the same effect upon the audience. That’s why your favorite foreign songs sound lame when you throw the lyrics into Google Translate: Only a fraction of a song’s power lies in the literal meaning of the words. When translated as prose, they turn into rhythmless husks.

Pass the language, it’s my turn

If you ever played the game “telephone” as a kid, you know how hard it is to send a simple message around a room in one language. Sending a message through multiple languages is what’s known as “relay translation,” and while it is sometimes necessary, it is never ideal. Have you ever amused yourself by putting the same text through a translation machine a dozen times? Professional human translators are better than machines, but there’s only so long you can stretch a chain of translation before the ends start to look very different.

When Sandra, who, by the way, is explicitly a translator—it’s stated in the film that she earns extra income through translation, although she does not say which languages she works in—has to explain her arguments with her husband in court, she is translating not only her own thoughts, but also what she believes his thoughts to have been. This is then translated again through the court interpreter, and then AGAIN, separately, in the dubbing process. (For simplicity’s sake, we’ll skip all the additional translation layers external to the film: writing the script, reading the script, acting, voice acting, filming, editing, the medium through which the film is played, etc.) The chain of translation, as I understood it while watching, looks like this:

Diagram 1: Translation chains*

Before you think I’m here to condemn dubbing as a practice, the chain for an audience reading subtitles would be just as long. That’s just what happens when a film reaches international audiences.The reason I’m illustrating the different routes meaning must travel to reach these audiences is because language does not exist in a vacuum. Our interpretations of words depend heavily on context. You may be wondering why I’ve included the court’s thoughts in this diagram. Well, the knowledge that the court is hearing Sandra’s words through an interpreter informs the way you listen to her. A French-speaking audience is aware that some of the people in this film are hearing Sandra differently, but they themselves are forced to interpret her through the medium of a language they may not speak fluently or at all.**

*Since we are shown Sandra speaking, I assume this split trajectory is present in both the undubbed and dubbed versions—that the audience hears her words rather than the court interpreter’s. In case you were wondering, if I tried to explain the husband’s motivations to you, you would be Audience C, three more steps and another language shift down from Audience B.

**I would be interested to know whether Sandra gets subtitled when this film plays to francophone audiences. I found one French review complaining that she wasn’t, but I don’t read enough French to search adequately.  

Context is everything

Imagine for a moment you are walking down the street in some American small town and you pass a clothing store with t-shirts hanging in the window. Each features a design and a phrase, and all the phrases are nonsensical. The context of this store tells you this is on purpose—this store markets to people who enjoy the absurd. You may read the shirts, laugh, take a picture. Lol, look at this: [photo of shirt with an image of a ghost and the words “bump of chicken”]. You would then carry on with your day. Now imagine you walk past this same store in Japan. You could of course react the same way—Japan is equally capable of absurd humor—but now another option presents itself. After a few moments spent pondering the chicken shirt, it clicks: Goosebumps. Not an attempt at absurd humor but a casualty of mistranslation. The shirt has not changed; it is the context that prompts you to read deeper. Awareness of translation affects its interpretation.

It’s time for my grand reveal that is not a reveal to anyone familiar with the movie or who read the title of this essay: Sandra the character is not English. The line about the village was not changed—like the actor, the character really is German. I discovered this because I looked up the film during the bus ride home from the theater, not because I was able to tell at any point while watching it. What does this mean? It means this is a film about translation in which the main character is German, her husband is French, and she communicates in English both with him and with the court. Remember when I said there’s another reason the voice actor is so good here? It’s Sandra Hüller—she’s dubbing herself.

If we return to our chart, Audience B is aware that they are watching a French film. This means, when interpreting the plot, they can take it as presented in German, or try to put themselves in the shoes of Audience A and interpret it as they believe a French audience would. However, without the benefit of hearing Sandra and her husband speak, this is a difficult task.

Diagram 2: Audience A as imagined by Audience B

Depending on which languages you assume each person speaks, this chain may be as simple as French-French-French-French-French-German, as complicated as French-English-German-English-French-German, or anywhere in between. I believe Sandra’s careful deliberation of her words is meant to add ambiguity to her character. Is she simply struggling to explain her relationship, or is she using the time to come up with lies? By having her speak a language foreign to both her and the audience, the filmmakers make the situation even harder to judge. Audience A is hearing her speak English with a German accent, a constant reminder of all these layers of mediation. Audience B is hearing her speak German with a German accent, the same as every other character.

Hey, you dropped your accent

When I say “the same as every other character,” I mean that not only is everyone in the German dub speaking German (obviously), no one has an accent. Or rather, they all have the same accent, which amounts to the same thing. Accents and other dialectical features tell us a lot more than simply whether or not someone is foreign. In fact, they tell us more when the person is not foreign, because we are more attuned to minute differences in our own native language and dialect. Often, the first few words out of a character’s mouth tells us not only where they grew up, but also their social class, how they view themselves in relation to the person they’re talking to, and how they wish to be perceived: Are they trying to sound more or less educated than they are? Are they putting on a particular accent to blend in? Does their way of speaking gel with our expectations based on their physical appearance? Is it supposed to? Can we the audience even understand what they’re saying? Is their incomprehensibility meant to be funny or tragic?

When dubbing over a performance, we must return to our question of effect: To what extent can we replicate the effect of these dialectical markers on the new target audience? This is obviously a difficult task, and would necessitate looking critically at stereotypes and prejudices both at home and abroad. But I would respect the German film industry a lot more if they would even make an attempt.

Again, this is not a condemnation of dubbing as a practice. In fact, dubbing creates an opportunity here that is not present when subtitling. We cannot expect a foreign audience to pick up on dialectical cues in a language they do not speak, but we can replace them with similarly-weighted cues in their own language when those exist. German voice actors sometimes put on silly voices or use odd inflections to spice up a performance, but there is a stubborn resistance to using regional accents and dialects. Which is a shame. Like any language that evolved across a wide area for hundreds of years, German is secretly 47 languages in a trenchcoat, pretending to be the same thing for the purposes of national identity. Imagine if, in every British movie, all the actors were forced to speak in BBC English regardless of who they were and where they were from. Imagine if Jack Sparrow, Oliver Twist, Tony Soprano, and the cast of Bridgerton all sounded like they went to the same high school. How much of their identity would be lost? All of these characters are native English speakers. And none of their stories are about them struggling to defend themselves before a court in a foreign country.

As always, it comes back to effect. Not every character needs a regional accent. But sometimes their regional accent is important, and their actions and relationships make less sense without it. Many of the same associations exist internally between various German accents as exist among speakers of different types of English or French or Arabic. It doesn’t have to be a 1:1 equivalency. But why not make the effort to convey something? Am I saying all Texans in German dubs should have Bavarian accents? Yes.

So what?

I want to head off some criticism from people who will say I’m reading far too much into this, that no one is thinking about chains of translation while watching a movie about a murder trial, that dubbing is such a long-established practice in Germany that most Germans are hardly aware of it and consume films as if they were written and filmed in German. Perhaps. But this is also a problem. Not necessarily for all films—that’s a matter of taste—but certainly for this one.  I read every non-professional German review I could find, and not one of them mentioned that German actor Sandra Hüller speaks English throughout this entire film. Three people did suggest it was better to watch it undubbed. Everyone else, even those who praised the film’s dialogue, did so without any acknowledgment that the film is bilingual. One German reviewer on Amazon seems to think this is a German film.

As I write this, Anatomy of a Fall has 4 stars on Amazon.com, 4.1 on Amazon.fr, and 3.8 on Amazon.de. Many of the German reviews there and elsewhere complain that the movie is boring. And why not? It’s slow-paced to begin with, and then, chances are they were only allowed to hear half the story. And how ironic is it that Hüller’s primary performance as a German actor playing a German character is inaudible in German theaters? Give the woman some more awards—she had to make this movie twice.

Germans’ over-reliance on dubbing accidentally erased the German identity of a character. If everything is always dubbed, a film could contain half a dozen languages and you wouldn’t even know. It’s easy to assume that underneath the German lies another monolingual script. Maybe you’ll wonder why, in a brief scene, Sandra’s son is making her repeat nonsensical phrases. To be honest, I feel the translation is partly at fault in this scene. I don’t remember the German phrases emphasizing any particular phoneme. I think it was nonsensical French for the purposes of speaking practice translated into nonsensical German for the purposes of nothing. This is a classic example of meaning-based rather than effect-based translation.*

*This is another difficult case, since normally you could focus on a particular German phoneme that is difficult for non-native speakers, such as /ü/. However, since Sandra is supposed to be German, we run into a recursive translation problem where, in order for the scene to make sense on its face level (Sandra is practicing her accent), it has to be illogical on another (Sandra is practicing her accent in her native language). Any solution is going to be imperfect, but I’d argue that it’s more important to understand what is going on in the scene.

Other ways this could have been handled

The obvious solution

Subtitle everything. This is an obvious answer, but not my favorite. For one thing, it risks driving away much of its potential German audience, who are used to dubs and generally prefer them to subtitles. For another, it implies that dubs are inherently inferior, which I do not believe is the case. They are both important translating tools and have different strengths and weaknesses.

My favorite solution

Dub the French parts, but leave the English parts in English and subtitle those. This is my favorite option. Why limit yourself to one tool? It doesn’t shorten the chain in Diagram 1, but it brings audiences A and B closer together by clarifying Diagram 2. Plus, are we to believe that German audiences are any less capable than French audiences of handling a bit of English?

The one I would love to see that will never happen

Dub everyone, but give all the other characters French accents. I think this is often considered hokey, but I personally love it. If I can’t hear the original language itself, at least give me some of its flavor.

Coming soon: A (hopefully shorter) post wherein I complain about subtitling practices

[thelador-s-mclargehuge]

Episode 1 Behind The Scenes!

Welcome to Amateur Hour! I mean this whole series is amateur hour, but stating out was REALLY amateur hour. So most of the way our videos worked is we would do a weekly video (Either podcast or Over The Shoulder game review). And I’d release a Funny Joke Video every two weeks. I was given Carte Blanch over my videos and basically just kinda did them on my own. So everything I did was suuuper rudimentary My scripts weren’t formated very well, there were tons of spelling errors, stuff I’d cut out I’d leave in the document and just remember I cut it out. But all this worked just fine because I was the only one looking at them.

And the way I’d send people their lines was I would *send* people their lines over discord and have them send me back an audio file that they’d recorded. I didn’t even really do any audio directing aside from a couple of notes. I might have directed Dalsson and TheDragonLover (heretofore referred to as Dergo), but that was it.

For anyone who might want to make a narrative series, uh… don’t do this with your main cast. If you have a guest star who knows what their doing and might not be comfortable being directed in a discord call with a stranger, that’s fine. But for everyone else you’ll just end up playing phone tag for a a couple of VA lines that won’t be nearly as good if you just set the people down in a call and told them what kinda performance you want them to give. A thing that, And I cannot stress this enough, they will be fine with you doing and in fact would much prefer this to the alternative.

And if you sit multiple people down in the call and do their voice lines in one day, that’s just way better! Your actors will be more comfortable with more friends around, and after the session is over, you have multiple scenes worth of voice lines to work with! It’s one of those “We do this thing like this for a reason.” kinda deals.

But ultimately a lot of the What Worked for those videos I’d put out every two weeks, and the video essays, did not really work here. But anyway lets look at the actual video.

The like first scene you can see how the cutting around is really off. That’s because the footage of me just standing there lasted, like, 3 seconds and I had a minute of dialogue, so I HAD to keep cutting if I wanted to use that footage. I should have just started a new save and rerecorded it but… again amateur hour.

But. The first joke here I think is really good. I have a lot of thoughts about it, so I’m going to make it a separate thread. There’s quite a bit going on there and I’m really proud of it.

But the beginning of the video, and the beginning of the series as a whole, is just kinda me moving from bit to bit like I did in the previous Joke Videos. These started out as those with a tiny bit more structure.

The Conversation with Elderbug here is what got Lordfrezon to get a better mic. Like this video convinced the man to get a better microphone. But you’ll notice Elderbugs mouth keeps moving when he’s not taking. I didn’t start putting a still picture over the talking characters yet

The quirrel scene is probably the best put together in the entire video. The editing is sharp. and I realized I could like, just reverse the video of him looking at the Black Egg to make it a little more dynamic.

But most of the dynamic-ness of these scenes comes down to me zooming in and out of characters faces for emphasis. The footage I’m working with is a character with a one second animation loop and another character staring up at them. So I gotta do a lot of cuts and zooms to make it look like a conversation with multiple emotions in it is happening. And I already had a pretty good grasp of that thanks to the joke videos! Say what you will about youtube video editing, but it sure teaches you how powerful quick cutting for emphasis is!

This was also before I started putting Reverb on every scene that takes place in a tunnel… which most of them do, and if there’s one thing I love, love, love playing with, it’s reverb. Sound design is my passion tbh. It is also the only thing I have any formal training in! I was taught it by a bunch of 80s rockers who showed me how to use an old analog soundboard for live mixing! And I’ve always held to the idea that 75% of video editing is sound editing, and 95% of that sound editing is shit no one would notice unless it wasn’t there.

There a little after the Quirrel scene I got *extremely lucky* and found a sign mender. Which is a really rare event. Just immediately out of the gate I see that man. I’d never seen him before I was getting footage for the video and he blessed me with his presence like an angel. Thank you Sign Mender! You gave me a great bit about property destruction!

The Cornifer scene is firstly, a great look into how a voice role evolves over time, and secondly, a great exemplification of what I started this with. Just Direct Your VA’s. You’ll notice how Saine’s performance on his first line here are worse than any of the other ones he’s given. He didn’t know what I wanted. And if I would have simply directed him, that wouldn’t be a problem!

He did, however get to delever the funniest lines of the video. And he did a great job with those! And, another thing to Saine’s credit is he does a fantastic job as Iselda! Man eats up that whole scene! Just great shit there!

Sly’s change is less in that the voice evolved as time went on and more I changed the character. I focused more on the Shopkeeper aspect rather than the teacher aspect as his Central Thing, and ultimately I think that was the best choice. Surly Shopkeeper who can “Show You Da Ropes” Is always a great character and he’s a lot of fun to write. Also all the thing’s Sly says about ‘God’ put me in a bit of a bind because “Okay, so why the hell does this guy know about The Radiance… a thing that a lot of people were lied to about for decades?” So I had to come up with some stuff for that. But that’s the kind of problem I love solving. Because it goes from “Weird plot hole” to “Ooh new character aspect! let’s give this man some depth!

Dergo’s performance as Myla is the best one in the video. And it’s great that’s the case too, because of how much *that* kicks off a lot of the story. But, yeah 10/10 no notes. Dergo is incredibly good at this shit.

The end bit with the snail man is probably my biggest regret of the video. It very much does not fit in with the tone of everything else. It’s kinda something that just happens in the first episode and I hope everyone forgets about. The implication he just murdered the snail guy is funny but it doesn’t fit in the wider whole. Whole scene just is not very good tbh. I also probably should have had someone else voice the Snail man as well.

And I wholeass forgot I used a different font for the credits! But I think that’s that for the first episode. IT’s kind of just a collection of thoughts, but the episode is just kind of a collection of scenes so, there we go!

[give-soup-please]

How about the Narrator and his Reader, writing furiously and competitively, trying to surpass each other to prove they're better (or rather, to impress each other, but they won't admit it) ?

(slight bending of the prompt)

Narrator and reader trying to surpass the other in writing skills (to impress each other)

The narrator writes the last addition to his script with a flourish. This is it! Now you will know once and for all, that he’s the better writer. He rushes off to find you, only to discover that you’re rushing towards him from the opposite direction, holding some freshly printed pages.

He lets out a quiet laugh. The exchange begins, and you both begin scanning each other’s words eagerly. Oh, this was masterful work. Again. How do you keep doing this? He leans against the wall, lost in your story. This latest narrative was very compelling. He shakes his head, and looks up, only to discover a similar expression on your face as well. At least he seems to have you similarly enraptured.

It was hard to remember when the exchanges had begun. Every so often the two of you would rush towards each other, having produced some top notch work. The narrator was impressed with you, but loath to admit it. He was supposed to be the king of narrative around here, not you.

You were also astonished by what the narrator was writing. He had such a talent for spellbinding stories. You were absolutely envious. You wanted to impress him as much as he impressed you. Not that you were ever going to admit it.

You compliment each other through gritted teeth, both eager to get back to writing in order to ‘wow’ the other.

This goes on for a few months until you’re both on the edge of burnout. You both end up slumping against each other on the couch, each clutching a stack of papers.

“I’m tired.” You say. The narrator is too, but he doesn’t want to admit it. “Oh please, I could keep going forever, if I had to.”

You smile. “Somehow, I doubt that. If you can keep going, what are these bags under your eyes doing? Hell, they look more like suitcases at this point.”

The narrator scoffs. “And what about you? Your eyes are so bloodshot that-” He pauses for a moment. “I can’t even think of a joke. My god, it’s gotten bad.” 

You sigh and lean into the narrator for comfort. He’s too tired to care. You smile, and laugh a bit. “You know, I only ever started writing so much… because I wanted you to think I was cool. Can you believe that?”

The narrator snorts. “Look where it’s gotten us. Good lord, we need a break.” The narrator startles as you poke his side. “What about you?” you ask. “Why’d you write so much? I never thought you’d start pulling away from your parable. But, here we are.”

The narrator is conflicted. He doesn’t want to admit that he wrote as much as he did for similar reasons. He’s surprised you wanted him to think you were cool. “Does it matter, reader?”

You’re still smiling. “I remember, a few months ago, when I first showed you something I’d written. You looked- Dare I say it, intrigued. I was sure I had done something to be proud of, but then- You came back with something better.”

“Hmm.” Says the narrator. You poke his side again. “Will you stop doing that?” He asks, impatient. You let out a tired giggle. “Sorry. I just- hehehe… It’s hard to think, and you’re fun to be around.”

“Mmm, I think you’re fun to be around too. You challenge me, make me want to be better. And maybe… Maybe I wanted you to be impressed with my narratives too.”

The two of you take a deep breath together, having both been emotionally vulnerable. “Now what?” you ask. The narrator thinks.

“Perhaps a nap is in order. After that? I’m not really sure.”

“Yeah, a nap is probably the best place to start.”

You both nod off on the couch, and the papers slip out of your hands and onto the floor. Now, it was time to rest.

[pastelhousewithlegs]

I watched the Netflix Avatar the Laster Airbender series and wrote down all my thoughts.

Overall: 6/10

I think the casting was good, the effects were impressive, the costumes and sets overall looked great. I can believe that someone at least skimmed the source material.

The story seems weirdly rushed and really slow in odd parts? I didn’t want a shot for shot remake of the show, but it’s, we’ll say

/interesting/ to learn what Netflix has decided are important pieces of story they want to draw out and which characters are given spotlight.

From a story perspective, it feels like they took someone who saw the animated series several years ago and asked them to retell the story from memory. There’s a lot of recognizable content for fans but it does feel disjointed because of which stories they chose to combine.

Thoughts below the thing. No context given, spoilers but I don’t think they make much sense. If I spelled anything wrong, it’s speech to text and I barely proof read

Why are they excited to see him do that? They are also Airbenders.

Do they not have sky bison?

Okay I actually like Gyatzo and Aangs dynamic

How long until the comet comes this is awfully close

Man really trying to shove character into exposition here

Good tension

She should have kept fighting with him

That actually sounded pretty convincing

Little early to be spouting that kind of wisdom Iroh

Why are they having? Why are they saying this? Why put it directly into the script you already had your opening?

It’s kind of sad that they took this realization from Kara

It’s kind of sad that they had to steam roll Aangs optimism about this kind of stuff for the sake of time

really took away the heaviness of the fire nation boat, especially when it’s Katara‘s hideout now and not fully forbidden

Love that they wanted to do over on the waters sphere from the first live action

Well, it’s been like 30 seconds and you didn’t really wanna make a lot of chitchat

I like the effects they’re very good

I’m kind of sad they’re forced to exposition a lot of this. I feel like a lot of it. It would be really good to get this kind of slower but again I get it.

OK, he is a prisoner and you suspect that he will be brutally tortured. This is too casual.

OK, I think he’d probably noticed that he was literally working on it

Interesting they had him talk himself down instead of Katara

Way to… “things happen for a reason Katara”

Hey that was a joke

What an odd way to turn around. But we are getting a sense of Zuko’s youngness?

He just rode off on a sky bison. What are you talking about?

So they don’t have a plan anymore. Their original thing was that they were going to go to the northern water tribe so Aang could learn water bending with Kotara and Kiyoshi was a stop on the way.

Though they did get lost

It’s like they’re trying to make jokes With Sokka, but it’s not working

OK, well I guess we’re not getting the pirate episode

Interesting they just came back on for information instead of a destroyed boat

Zuko was excellently cast

Well, there’s a remnants of the misogyny they forgot to scrub

The Kyoshi warrior uniforms look really good

Did they remove Suki as the leader of the Koshi Warriors?

I don’t know how to feel about Suki

And I don’t know how to feel about the interaction either because 1/2 of it was flirting

Why? how is this a good cover?

If that’s your cover, Iroh should’ve been the one to ask

Man, they really did just put themselves on the sus list

This is very nitpicky, but I kind of wish that he was excited to learn from her

I know it’s not just I don’t wanna learn from her, but it’s kind of sad because he was very much excited to learn from her

OK, well they’re gonna keep using his air bending as like levitation so we’ll see how useful this ends up being in this version

Well, just kind of takes the wind out of Suki because she’s not really proud to be where she is

They kinda gave her the I want more role, which is fine, but a big part of her is her being incredibly proud of who she is and what she’s done

God she’s trying to impress him

This is an interesting take on his peer’s perception of him

Oh, is this a mix from the avatar day episode too?

I can’t remember how he learned that in the show.

What does this random guy know that?

Oh, this is the “she teaches him and he’s immediately better than her and then she becomes his sidekick” trope

Oh, they really sped run this control over going the spirit world

Does he know her name yet?

They really nuked Suki.

Wait are you telling me that was the avatar state?

Kyoshi was more chill in the series. Or I guess more level headed

I guess that’s on par with what Kyoshi was

They moved Katara protecting Aang and while he’s in the avatar state from the northern water tribe episode

Are they gonna try and do it again later?

So much for sacrifice, Aang doesn’t even want to leave.

I guess he did have a good few love interests but they really playing it up

Oh, and also training water bending like it’s the second thought or something

What was Zuko about to say?

They making him seem larger and intimidating

It’s the honor student

Is that Azula?

Is this foreshadowing ba sing se that I see?

I didn’t expect Ozai to wanna get his hands dirty so soon

I guess this is how they convey the propaganda parts of the fire nation

I don’t know who he’s referring to when he says that.

He’s talking about Zuko

Were they not able to recognize her with her hair up?

So do they know already?

Well, actually, you asked him to catch the avatar and he hasn’t done that yet

I don’t like Aang and Katar‘s dynamic yet

Did he already know water bending because he’s kind of teaching her?

I think the creators forgot that we are also supposed to laugh at Sokka instead of Aang and Katara just doing that

Is this jet?

Okay well there goes that plot thread

New Azula seems really outwardly insecure

That shot lasted for way too long. You should’ve cut it.

Wait a minute they’re doing the secret tunnel

So what are they trying to do with a blimp?

Because cabbage man is so iconic

Does she know who she is? I don’t think he saw her.

The fighting sequences look OK

Oh man, they really over blew that one

I don’t know what storyline they’re taking this from

But they were looking for a fire bender, a thing that he definitely isn’t

Are they doing the blue spirit?

Where is Katara?

Why? what?

Hey, Flopsy!

OK, well no mystery with Bumi then

OK, well he’s a different kind of crazy now

Is Bumi jealous of him?

It sounds like you have too Aang

Do we get the secret tunnel song?

The subtitles suggest that both Oma and Shu were women and I don’t know if they did that on purpose

Really skipping over the whole journey there I know probably for time but it’s very odd to have someone that is not Katara read it

Oh, it’s this bit. Do you think Zuko’s going to find him with a sandal?

No, just the lotus tile

But he doesn’t know earth bending yet?

Yeah, what is he trying to prove?

Whose characteristics does Bumi have now?

If the traveler knew that, why didn’t they just tell them instead of the stupid hints?

This Katara seems sadder? And I’m not really sure what it’s doing for the story or her character.

Well, that was unnecessary

OK more exposition, it’s fine. We’re eating a broccoli.

He was a general

Really developing Zuko and Irohs past which is touching

Well, he’s already the avatar so that’s not really necessary

Hey, there’s no real reason for that again he’s already the avatar. I don’t really know what point you’re trying to

Wait, so the crystals are fully wrong?

So they wanted both of the reasons that they got out of the cave why not just pick one?

OK, so he’s angry? Why he didn’t really have control over that

Also, I like how Bumi is just fully willing to kill the avatar

Well, at least the fight is familiar to

Already?

I mean, I guess

Are we meeting haibi?

Man, it’s like they sporadically remember he’s supposed to be funny

Well, that’s that reference

Are we getting the blue spirit soon with the archers?

kind of undermining Azula being a prodigy.

Oh well, this is new

Zuko is funnier than Sokka

OK, so they skipped over that episode funny the play did too

Hey, it’s June

Ew? That is the exact exact opposite of how it was but sure

OK, so straight frogs are common

Is that oh? Isn’t he supposed to be in the library?

This Azula is very emotional

It seems like Iroh is the one finding the avatar

I think that was supposed to be funny

Is the fox supposed to be hot for him?

This series is the story of Sokka

You can hardly call them jokes

Oh, I thought Aang was supposed to see the vision of Toph

And we haven’t met Yue yet

So did she just lose her face?

Okay rearranging things, sure

OK, so there goes his credibility

Did they both just lose their faces?

Oh, it’s this storyline now interesting that they splice it in

I don’t know why he thought that would be a good idea. He’s very much in Fire nation territory.

So how does how does she originally do the tracking?

And how do they know the thing they picked up is relevant?

I’m so confused how do you know how to do this also wasn’t it Roku, who was the original one to help him out because he was the avatar before him

And you just stole it for funzies?

Oh, is that guy outside bacon now?

why would you go out that way?

is June going to give him a peptalk?

Who are these guys

And yet you didn’t use them

I can’t believe he’s doing like a customer service survey

Damn shot for shot on this

You stole like 2 pages

Wow exposition exposition

Does Aang still have that totem on him?

Okay that was actually funny

Ozai would never admit to that

Say it louder so everyone knows what zuko did.

I think they’ve used everything around the pirate episode

About 30 seconds

Did they ship in earth benders for her to beat up?

Was as she a bender in the show?

Why didnt they have paku tell her that?

What do much for Yue respecting her duties

Why didn’t he see Kuruk before koh?

I don’t know anything about Kuruk except his wife got face stolen

This is a very odd lesson of “you must walk this journey alone”

Ummm why is this important now?

Why is she telling him this

Uhh what

That’s a bad plan and no well thought out

if that means Azula? They haven’t really shown her to be as one of her main characteristics.

Is he grading her?

Why does she know how to do that?

Who taught her that

I guess i’m glad Sokka is supportive, but I’m kind of upset that she needs that kind of support every 30 seconds or else she can’t function

Well, they really had to tone down this battle

And she just accepts that?

Uh yeah she did loose, it’s fine but she did

That’s great but why though

Uhhh were just gonna say he’s the plan guy?

What thing did he have to do?

More blasting jelly?

Also idk if they made the connection that sai made those. I guess the balloon model

Katara wasn’t even the one to convince him to respect her. She sort of inspired people to do it for her. Kind of

Ummm, he knows she has no war training

Yeah she’s not,

Uhhh it what now?

Wait huh? Is that the story from the series? We learned that from koh

Speak a little faster please

Umm did they just give Irohs speech to Kuruk

I guess they got bored of animating the lemur

Theyre gonna ask the moon spirit to heal a lemur?

Is this supposed to be tense?

Or is this just how we got into the sanctuary

Is that different from your current plan?

So where did her skill come from? We haven’t seen her be taught?

Actually she didn’t, that comment didn’t make any sense

This Ozai yeah

He should totally kill the moon spirit while he’s got it in his hands

These characters really like to talk

Is Aang going to become the moon spirit?

Is this because he doesn’t know how to water bend so it can’t be him doing this?

Well, they really nailed Zuko being a hothead

Does he mean Azula? Who is he talking about?

I’m sure that’s true, but Azula is supposed to be a prodigy

Why not make momo give his life back?

They really said Iroh is a spiritual master and then gave him nothing to do with it

Yeah, a thing he’s not started at all

Man these guys really love the single year down the cheek

Again? Ozai really only tries the “wait what’s that over there” technique

It’s an Ozai sandwich, why did we cut away

[kindheart525]

Triple Threat had made it out of the darkness and into the sun, but she wouldn’t forget the ones that she loved. Yes, she was a star now, an icon who was changing the whole of Bridleway for the better! But she had to take some time to go home, relax a little, catch up with the family that raised her.

Especially since they had a celebration planned just for her!

“How’s our favorite little cousin doing?”

Stockholm noodled her way into the spot next to TT on Rarity’s fancy couch, her husband Boot Polish sitting down on her other side. 

“It’s been forever since you’ve been home, but you’re sure making it big! Those performances were amazing! And the plays! I love me a good period piece, and you pulled them off perfectly. In fact, it was you who inspired me to do a little extra reading on Manespray and Rent and the politics of the time—“

“Only after we finished marveling at your performance. Which, by Ardor, took forever. We were simply amazed!”

Boot got straight to the point with his compliments, translating his wife’s more long-winded expressions of awe and wonder into his own style. 

“Yes!” Stock paused her infodumping to agree with him. “Why, I’d say you blew us all away! Like Haymilton!”

“Oh, thank you!” TT laughed at the joke. “I’ll be trying for that one eventually. Maybe you’ll see me there too!”

This was a high-stakes show and she was half-joking, but Stockholm took it in earnest.

“I’m sure we will! Who says Mrs. Haymilton can’t be a big girl too?”

“You’re right, you’re right!” TT grinned humbly. “I think I could pull off a good Satisfied too.”

“There’s bound to be more variety in such roles going forward. By you and many others.”

“There’d better be!” TT agreed with Boot. “Me and the other ladies aren’t doing all this for nothing. Oh, I don’t think I’ve explained all that!”

“I believe Aunt Sweetie has told it all,” Boot said. “She simply cannot cease mentioning it! Your advocacy, your interviews, everything. She is most proud.”

TT couldn’t help but be surprised at this. Her mom had always been proud of her performance and talent, but any discussions about her weight were met with resistance until what still felt like so recently. Now here she was actively causing an upset and changing the landscape…and her mom was bragging about her! She couldn’t believe it.

Before she could get sentimental about this, Boot continued:

“Why, even the local foals we work with have caught wind of your stardom, and now they’re inspired to follow in your hoofsteps.”

“You really are making waves! Those little ones are just raving about you!”

Stockholm wrapped TT in a tight hug as she processed this additional bit of information. She had always considered herself part of the youngest generation of performers, perhaps thinking about future generations in more abstract terms, as a group that did not really exist yet. But they were here, and they were ready to become stars too.

She couldn’t wait to tell the gals! How thrilled they’d be. She was already coming up with all sorts of new ideas to help create new stars and pave an unhindered path for these budding talents.

Suddenly her ears pricked up, realizing she could start right at home.

“You work with the local foals?”

“Ooh, yes, we do!” Stockholm beamed. “We help with the theater program with the middle schoolers, you know, where we all went! I help them memorize their scripts and Bootie’s in charge of tech crew—oh, baby, tell her about last Thursday!”

“But darling, you have the story memorized just as well—“ Boot started, but he couldn’t resist his love’s pleading, eager eyes. She had the talent to narrate any event with great accuracy, but somehow always relished in his retellings just as much. Nor was he to keep this story from his cousin, who lived for the arts.

“Very well then, I shall.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Previous: Over The Moon Next (flashback): Damned If You Do

[iveneverplayedmegaman]

what has been your favorite joke / gag / bit or even a panel that you were the most proud of

Hmm, that’s a tough one. I guess my favorite panel right now is the one of Ice getting electrocuted since I thought it came out pretty striking. As for gags, I’m always a fan of adding puns. It’s very rare that those get cut from the script.

[zr-art-world]

Homestuck fan comic act 1 script w.i.p

I thought I might as well post what I have so far of my scrips. I'm not done with the whole outline, but I am far in its development that I feal confident enough to work on the act 1 script.

I’m also posting this for any possible critique. Working on something alone kind of suck so... if anyone out here has any critique for me, it would be very much apricated

(I’m doing this on word, so this isn't a link, sorry its long)

Act 1 Script

 *Curtains open up

A young girl is asleep in her bed, despite the time, the warm covers that trap her body heat and protect her from the cold threaten her back into the sweat embrace of sleep.

wake up

…

Wake Up

WAKE UP

WAKE UP!

…

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!WAKE UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*Jean falls off bed

A young lass lays in the middle of her room. It just so happens to be the 17th birthday of this young girl’s birthday. It was 17 years ago she was given a name and due to time and events, her name has slipped from this young girl’s mind. Help the lass jog her memory.

 *She takes the text box and scribbles in her name

Wait, shit, what are…

 Oh…ok, take the fun out of it. I hope your proud of yourself

 Your name is Jean Croker, a spunky girl that loves jokes, japes, and overall buffoonery, as it is in your blood. Granted, your jokes tend to be a little less humorous and more impish. Not helped by your love of misdirecting magic tricks and love of jesters. You also enjoy video games that, due to their age, are considered retro in this day and age, one series in particular that tickles your fancy being about a certain thieving, morally gray racoon. You also like comics and comic movies. However, you have a soft spot for the morally dubious yet heroic leads, as evident from the poster strewed around your walls and the figures lining some of the surface in your room.

Enough of that, let us take a better gander of your room, shall we?

 Jean, equip arms

 Equip…arm??? You have your hand here, on your body. Whare else would they be??? Would I have a pair of fake ones? Why would I?

…

Although that does sound fun, you can only imagine the possible pranks you could pull with those bad puppies.

 Jean, inspect posters

 As mentioned before, you have a love of morally grey heroes. They do the right thing, but their methodologies aren’t the greatest, there’s also the fact that these characters tend to be more fun than the grittier brand of anti-heroes. With their wise cracking mouthy personalities and all.

 Inspect plush

 You inspect the large plush on your floor, it depicts one of your favorite animals. The majestic and trash eating racoon. They can be cute or a little menacing and their depiction in media tend to associate them with thieve, as seen with their method of gathering food and the fur pattern around their eyes. God, you love these scrunkly fucks.

 Inspect figurines

 You already made you point clear towards Harley Quin, but the jesters…well… you don’t really have an explanation of that, you just like them for no defined reason. Maybe its that they look slightly more elegant than their clown counterpart? You’re not sure.

 Look in closet

You don’t have a lot of shelf space, so you result to putting most of your stuff in the closet. This is where you put all your games, movies, DVDs, plushies, figures, ect.

Inspect bat

Inside is you prized baseball bat. Man, you have had some fun time with this thing, it’s somewhat dented from previous use as you used play quite a bit in the day. You did quite a few extracurricular activities when younger. It was one of those things’ you guardian signed you up for in order to put your energy to more…productive activities.

 Mess around with bat

You begin to mess around with your bat, trying to be carful not to knock anything over.

 Grab hat

(grabs hat and puts it on her head and spins it backwards)

Jean, pose

…

Wait

What are you doing?

Quit dilly-dallying and get going on with the story.

You also decide to put the bat under strife spesubes. You never know when you need to “accidently” break a window with a base ball and run away like the kids in almost every movie that has some illusion to base ball.

Inspect dress

You fish a taky red and white dress from your closet. You look at it with discontent as your eyes are assaulted with the shiny accents and itch white frills. Your guardian gave this to you to wear on your birthday so you can prance around like a show pony. You didn’t even want a big party and you certainly don’t want to wear this thing. God, you just want to burn the damn thing.

Throw the dress on the floor

You can not burn it for obvious reason, so you decide to just disrespect it by throwing it on the floor. Ya, you sure showed that inanimate object what for.

Other outfits

You don’t actually put a lot of your cloths in your closet, so you head to your dresser.

*Old baseball outfit

*Some shirt that looks like someone skinned a 90s arcade or old bowling ally

*Some weird looking overall clown pants that look like its missing a texture package

Ok, this is dumb, pick and outfit already

 Wait, what is that box under your bed

It is a present from one of your friends that arrived early. You remember you had to sneak the package inside to prevent a lecture from your guardian.

Open box

The first ting you note is a classic Walmart birthday card with striders equally classic vernacular and doodles.

Happy B-day jean, it is on this day that you appeared on this random mud planet and it is today you turn a year older. For your b-day, I got you something that made me think of you. I defiantly didn’t see it in my dad’s “Old shit” closet and I’m defiantly not trying get it out of my house because it freaks me the fuck out. I hope you like it.

Sinsirly fuck spelling

From, Dare

You open the box and…oh…wow.

It appears to be a long limed stuffed porcelain faced jester in a purple outfit with gold trim. The smirk engraved on its face emits an eyrir energy. The doll itself doesn't look inherently scary but you kind of get a weird feeling emanating off it. This is giving you some serious Annabella vibes. Maybe to avoid being stuck in the middle of your own Goosebumps episode, you should put the jester back in the box.

Put the jester back in the box

Um...are you going to put it back or...

You love it

Oh...seriously. Ok, but you only have yourself to blame for the inevitable B-movie horror plot that happens next. You capture log the disturbing and possible possessed porcelain jester in your sylladex…for some reason. You have the pocket fetch modus and so you kind of just stuff things in what ever pockets you have on you. However, it has a size capacity so you just tie the arms around your neck until you find a proper fetch modus.

Look out window

Outside, you can barely see the entrance gate and there are also an abundant of chimaera looking gargoyles. These things line the perimeter and area of the house, a creepy decor choice that scares you shitless when you go out of your room to piss or when you go and grab a glass of water in the middle of the night.

Despite living in this house for most of your life, it still feels off.

EXSPOSITION

You believe it is time for some context. You Just so happen to be adopted into the Crocker Corp Family tm. A massive baking conglomerate dedicated on pushing their confections to the word. They have also bought a multitude of different companies that don’t really relate to baking, like their software branch pushing games and computer software and they even have a gaming division. Recently, they released a game that you were able to get you and your friends early access, not sure if you mother meant it as a nice jester or to get you to not bother her.

Jean, answer friend

WOW, that got sad, but look!

One of your friends are pestering you, most likely about the game. It appears to be your friend Remi Lalonde, a clever lad you met on a gaming forum along with your other friends. Despite your differing personalities, you and the other members of your friend group seamed to hit it off. Your friend Remi also seems to be interested in your family, more specifically, things that your family does that may seem… sketchy. You don’t really believe a lot of the theory’s he has proposed, but your relationship with your mother and the Crocker corp name isn’t the best either way. You can’t even remember the last time you saw her.

Jean, pester back

 --gnawingInquiry [GS] began pestering with riotousCharlatan [RC] at 8:02 AM—

GI: Morning Jean

RC: RRRREEEEEEEMMMMMIIIIII

RC: whats up man?!

GI: currently, nothing of note

GI: Have you gotten the game yet

RC: idk, I just woke up a while ago

RC: pretty rudely to. Have you ever had that feeling of falling in your sleep and waking up in a cold sweat?

RC: granted, I did fall out of bed so…

GI: Well, that is one way to start your birthday

RC: I think its pretty on brand for me on this day of all days

RC: But I think Dares gift defiantly made it a bit better.

GI: :/

RC: What?

GI: I’m just a little worried what he decided to give you. Although I don’t live with you, so I can’t say what you can and can’t do with your gifts.

GI: what ever mischief or general chaos you choose to inflict isn’t any of my busyness.

RC: >:)

RC: anyways, he got me an old porcelain jester that belonged to his uncle.

GI:…

GI:……

GI:………….

RC: Dude

GI: Give me a minute to think of a response

RC: ok, I get that, but do you have to put in the ellipsis. I can feel your cocked eye brow judging stare.

GI: I just, have you seen his uncle’s puppets. They ether range from weird to horror movie prop.

RC: I have in fact seen them. Tbh, this is one of the less weird looking ones.

GI: ok, send me a pic

RC: …

RC:……

RC:………

RC: Fuck you

GI: I believe I made my point clear.

RC: OK smart ass. Your one to talk, you live in the middle of but fuck no ware woods. That’s some slasher shit.

GI: Correction, it is not “…In the middle of the woods”. The nearest city is literally a 40-minute drive from here.

GI: Ok, we are grossly off topic

GI: we can talk again once you check your mail

RC: ¬_¬aaaaaggggghhhhhhhh

GI: ?

RC: I don’t want to deal with a certain person today

GI: Ah yes, the pains of having a private maid. The horror.

RC: look, she’s…ok. But she is so nagging and I know she would say something about me giving you guys my address.

GI: Granted, it is a valid concern

RC: But still.

RC: I also don’t want to see all those decorations

RC: I know she did a lot to make it look perfect, but I never asked for a large party. Its just going to be me and her. Like last year, and the year before that, and the year before that, ya get the point.

GI: Sooooo

GI: your mother…

RC: She’s probably gonna give me the obligatory gift and card with money in it

RC: Again, I know I’m lucky to have all this stuff but…

RC: Shit, I’m sorry for dumping all that on you. I just started typing without really thinking.

GI: It is quite alright; it is totally understandable to feel like that.

GI: It’s only fair, considering all the times I talked your ear off with my problems.

RC: It just kinda feels like being thrown in the deep end of a cold pool. Left flailing and cold, uncomfortable, and you want to be any ware else.

RC: Just left there to hold onto the edge like that guy from Titanic.

RC: Tbh I forgot his name.

GI: I did not think the Titanic would be something from your movie repertoire.

RC: Not really, it’s just one of those movies most people know because it’s been around for a long ass time.

RC: We can all agree that there was defiantly enough room for both of them on the piece of wood.

GI: …

GI: Did you just say that because it is a common thing said about the movie.

RC: … maybe

GI: Part of me really want to dissect that statement and point out the holes, but I’m not.

RC: Have you seen Titanic

GI: I’ve seen reviews of the 2017 one.

RC: You're the type of person that spoils the movie for themselves by reading the reviews, aren’t you?

GI: Look, I rather spoil a good movie for myself than waste my money to see a bad movie.

GI: Getting back to the main topic that I feel like you are avoiding in order to prolong getting out of your room…the game.

GI: If you don’t do it now, you are going to have to in the future.

RC: UUUUGGGGHHH!!!!!!

RC: I hate it when your right!

RC: I bet you fucking love though.

RC: Maybe I could go out the window.

GI: omfg

GI: You relay need to talk to someone about this.

RC: Nope.

GI: What about those dreams you have been having.

RC: Double NOPE

RC: Aren't you the one that says that dream theory is "Incredibly dubious"

GI: Not when dissecting common themes and relating them to behaviors and instances in a person’s life. When I said "Incredibly dubious" When referring to dreams, I was referring to their usage to tell the future.

GI: One of the reasons most people tend to feel like an event is familiar is because your unconscious mind simulates a variety of different events. Therefore, it is possible that a real event will have similarities to a dream you had in the past.

GI: Jesus, how do you keep making me go on tangents! Getting on the main topic, no more derails, I have a fucking death grip on the reins to this shit show pony ride.

RC: >:P Your the one that was asking about dream theory.

GI: I was making a statement about a problem you probably need help with. You are the one that brought up my feeling about how dreams are used in a less scientific method.

GI: Also, its You’re.

 --gnawingInquiry [GS] ceased pestering with riotousCharlatan [RC] at 8:19 AM—

 Check mail box

You look out the window and find the fed flag on the side is down. Wait, does that mean you don’t have mail? If you remember correctly, when you flip it up, it signals to mail people that you have mail to send. You might as well check to make sure. You look back and forth between the door and the window ceil.

Abscond out window

You use your sheet and blankets to-wait, what!

Oh, wow, you were being serious

Um

Well

You use your sheets and blankets and tie them together to slid out the window like Rapunzel.

You misstep and almost fall and break you neck. You can already imagine the headline, “Local Ritch kid Dies from Tall Fall After Reenacting Disney Movie”.

You catch yourself and nearly miss snaping your neck like a pencil and making this story really short.

Climbing out the window and swinging the gate to for the walk way, you get a good look at the exterior. It is…a fucking mansion. It’s on the older side with little minimalism, unlike modern houses. Another thing to note are the fucking gargoyle things, each one a variety of differing animal parts. You see that the gate you just existed through has a pin pad and another, much larger gate, for vehicles to enter the premises.

You also take a good look at the scenery around your house. You live in one of those towns people stop by when they’re on a long trip and need to get gas and restock on snacks. You’ve only been in town a few times growing up because it takes forever to drive there and also due to your protective care taker.

Check mail box

Yes! It is in there!

You have successfully retrieved SBURB

Abscond with spoils

Grabbing your spoils, you attempt to dash back to your hidey-hole but-

Uh oh, it looks like your maid has trapped you in a corner. Crap, now you have to explain your ass.

Strife

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (242): Sun 13th Nov 2022

In the motorbike ride to work today I yawned and my jaw locked up. To passers by I must have looked like the little girl from The Ring had killed me while I was riding the bike. This hasn’t happened in quite a while and I thought I was passed it so I was a bit pissed off that it had happened again. I had to pull over and click my jaw back into place. After I sorted myself out I resumed the journey to work and cursed the fact that this hadn’t happened while o was working for TSB. If I showed up to work at a call centre with lockjaw then they would have had to send me home for the rest of the day. However lockjaw is fuck all use to someone who works in a warehouse. Hell, they probably would have told me to get the fuck to work and to use my open mouth to store my scanning device.

I was pleased to learn that Jerry Sadowitz apparently almost sold out his Hammersmith Apollo gig the other night. I was gutted that I couldn’t go (but in hindsight happy that in didn’t book the trip because it turns out I was contracted to do compulsory overtime in the run up to Christmas). It was absolute bullshit that Jerry had his Edinburgh show cancelled so I’m glad that after all that he will have gotten a decent payday for this show and apparently the other dates on the tour sold out as now people were more aware of the man who brands himself “the world’s most offensive comedian”. As much as Jerry complains about his lack of success I think even he realizes that he can’t be successful or else his act wouldn’t work. You can’t make derogatory jokes about minorities if you are a multimillionaire living in a mansion (unless you’re Dave Chappell but he’s the exception that proves the rule). Sadowitz gets away with the hideous things he says in his act because he (or at least his stage persona) is at the bottom rung of the societal ladder and so any time he insults someone it’s always punching up.

I messaged the organisers of The Sitcommission if the competition was coming back and they told me that it was opening for entrants in January. I’m going to spend the next month rewriting the script I wrote last year but got sidetracked and didn’t finish it. In order to get the script into the first draft stage I followed Graham Linehan’s advice of writing lots of funny ideas on cards then trying to find patterns in all the different ideas and eventually form a plot. Since then I read a piece of advice from legendary (and possibly fictional) Simpsons writer Jon Swartzwelder who says that the best way to write a script is to write the first draft in one day. This draft will be shit but then the next day you go back and fix it, trying to make each line just a little bit funnier. I was really fucking proud of myself for actually managing to finish the first and then second draft of my script and just by comparing it to the shitty scripts I wrote for the competition before I can tell that this advice has really helped. The unfortunate thing is that for this competition you’re encouraged to submit “Episode One” or your show rather than a “pilot episode”. The reason for this (which is apparently common practice in the comedy industry) is that a pilot episode is spent introducing characters and detailing what the the show about and will contain the most exposition of any episode. Commissioners don’t want these scripts because all the other scripts aren’t going to be like this and they want examples of what a typical episode of your show will look like.  The script I’ve written is very much a pilot episode because when I started I didn’t know what it was going to be and I discovered the premise as I wrote it. This means I’m going to have to write an entire episode from scratch but hopefully Linehan and Swartzwelder’s advice will prove invaluable. I’m not expecting to win the competition because the standard is usually quite high and I’m not a professional comedy writer. However with this competition which is judged by actual comedy writers you can request feedback on your script even if it isn’t selected for the final stage. All I’m really hoping for is that the judges think that my sitcom “has potential” or “isn’t shit”.

[baygreys]

A black lady sketch show

#A BLACK LADY SKETCH SHOW SERIES#

Season 2 has a sketch in the first episode called “Hear Me Out,” where Kim Coles plays a bank teller who isn’t listening to three various robbers who just want to be heard, with the joke being that no one listens to black women. She just said it and we were all like, ‘Ahh!'” ‘I Feel Your Paint’ and the Return of Rydeen – Episode 3 “Y’all Want Some Blood Juice?” Even Daphne Reese was not supposed to say she slept with Gab’s husband. There were two confessionals written in and then everyone got a confessional. She barely says any of the lines we scripted for her! I probably was the most on book, but I’m also reacting to them in the moment. Essence Atkins’ character was nothing like that on paper. That was not in the script that way at all. “Every time, she speaks in that sketch, she ends up turning to the character and breaking the fourth wall. The first time she did that, Thede was on the floor laughing and told her to keep doing it. Something Ashley Nicole Black’s Chef Lourdes does in the sketch is turn to the camera frequently. The script gets thrown away at some point, even after all that hard work.” Having this grounded experience in a magical reality is what I always talk about. First season, I was like as long as every third line is a joke, second season every other line, and third season-every line is a joke! We really crafted this way of being able to write real conversation that feels grounded a little bit, one toe on the ground-it’s sketch. Every season we become more and more intense about it. The cool thing is that joke density is something we really focus on. “Our Emmy nominated writers, hopefully soon to be Emmy winning, they’re incredible! Every season we have such an incredible group of new and returning writers. This sketch is a showcase for every actor (even guest star Daphne Maxwell Reid- Fresh Prince‘s Second Aunt Viv!) while also packed with jokes. Thede stars as the host, with Ashley Nicole Black as Chef Lourdes and Essence Atkins as Chef Rayna. In “Capp’t,” the best and brightest bullshitters compete to see who can come up with the best excuse to get out of any obligation. “Capp’t” – Episode 4 “Bounce Them Coochies, Y’all!” Thede talks about some of the memorable sketches from A Black Lady Sketch Show‘s Emmy-nominated Season 3, including some never-before-revealed details. We have a small staff, a much smaller budget than SNL, we don’t have a stage. You cannot take anything away from SNL! But I am extremely proud of the work we’ve done, and our show is the hardest sketch show to make. It’s about winning our first Emmy! SNL is amazing.

#A BLACK LADY SKETCH SHOW SERIES#

With SNL fading in nominations, could this finally be the year the HBO series comes out on top? In the Outstanding Variety Sketch Series category, ABLSS has gone up against SNL the past two years and lost. The beauty of this cast is that everyone is so versatile that we get to jump in and out of roles that are so different from ourselves and each other.” But then there are characters like Chris or Shanedra from the Coral Reef’s gang who are pretty quiet and pretty subdued, but who are memorable in their own ways for their more understated comedy. Hadassah-very charismatic, but truly wrong in most things. “Like Coach Luann Butler, good intentions, but not a great coach. “The ones that stick with people are the ones that are loud and leaders in their own mind, and definitely leading the wrong way,” says Thede. But that’s about the only thing any of them have in common. Download: ‘A Black Lady Sketch Show’ Showrunner Robin Thede Talks 5 Memorable Sketches from Emmy Nominated Season 3 Awards Daily chats with A Black Lady Sketch Show showrunner Robin Thede, who reveals details behind five memorable Season 3 sketches and whether this could be the year they win an Emmy for Outstanding Variety Sketch Series.Īs showrunner and performer, Robin Thede brings an unbridled energy to all of her characters on HBO’s A Black Lady Sketch Show.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Champagne Problems

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: you play Tom a new song you wrote, and he overthinks the lyrics

Masterlist

On a morning where he was supposed to be memorizing his latest script, Tom got distracted by the sound of you playing your piano somewhere in the house. He followed the soft melody into your studio, where he found you singly softly as you sat with your keyboard.

“You won’t remember all my champagne problems.” You hummed along to the notes you were playing.

“That sounds beautiful, darling.” Tom smiled as he came behind you to rub your shoulders. “Is that new?”

“Yeah.” You nodded as you put your hand over his. “I’m not sure about it though. The lyrics are still a little iffy.”

“Play it for me.” Tom kissed your neck before taking a seat. “I’ll tell you my thoughts.”

“You won’t be any help.” You chuckled. “You’ll just tell me it’s the greatest song ever written like you always do.”

“I can’t help it.” He pouted. “You’re just so talented.”

“It helps to have the loveliest muse in the world.” You cooed, bringing a smile out of Tom.

“Play me the song.” Tom asked. “I’ll be totally honest. I promise.”

“Okay.” You agreed and pulled the keyboard onto your lap. As soon as you started to play the intro, Tom was enchanted.

“You booked the night train for a reason, so you could sit there in this hurt. Bustling crowds or silent sleepers, you’re not sure which is worse.” You began. You looked up at Tom for approval and he gave you a cheerful thumbs up.

“Because I dropped your hand while dancing. Left you out there standing crestfallen on the landing. Champagne problems.” You sang softly. “Your mom's ring in your pocket. My picture in your wallet. Your heart was glass, I dropped it. Champagne problems.”

You stopped playing and looked at Tom to see what he thought. He happily applauded you, making you roll your eyes playfully.

“It’s amazing.” Tom grinned. “It’s the best song ever written.”

You gave him a skeptically look over your piano and he laughed.

“I’m serious.” He insisted. “Is there more?”

“Yeah. I have more.” You nodded and positioned your fingers on the keys. “Here’s the second verse.”

“You told your family for a reason, you couldn't keep it in. Your sister splashed out on the bottle, now no one's celebrating.” You continued. “Dom Pérignon, you brought it. No crowd of friends applauded. Your hometown skeptics called it champagne problems. You had a speech, you're speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches. And I couldn't give a reason. Champagne problems.”

Tom furrowed his eyebrows as he slowly connected the lyrics together. Between the mention of the ring and the lack of celebration, Tom realized the song was about turning down a proposal. He knew you had never been proposed to before, so he wasn’t sure where the inspiration for the song came from. In the back of his mind, he began to panic. Especially since up in his room, carefully hidden in his sock drawer, was a ring. A diamond ring that he had bought specifically for the reason of asking you to marry him.

“What do you think?” You asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Um, it’s really good.” He said slowly. “Interesting topic.”

“Yeah. I wanted to do something I’d never done before.” You smiled proudly and your fingered the keys.

“Interesting, interesting.” Tom nodded in fear. “Is there more?”

“Yeah. I’m really proud of this next part.” You grinned. “Listen closely.”

Tom gulped as you began to sing the bridge, something he knew you were skilled at writing.

“Your Midas touch on the Chevy door. November flush and your flannel cure. "This dorm was once a madhouse". I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me". How evergreen, our group of friends. Don't think we'll say that word again.” You shook your head as you sang. “And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls that we once walked through.”

Tom really began to panic at this point. He knew it couldn’t be a coincidence that you decided to write a song about turning down a proposal a few weeks after he bought a ring. He had one more week to go until he was going to propose, and he assumed you figured that out. Since you were as kindhearted and non confrontational as you were, there was no way you’d turn down Tom if he got down on one knee. You must have written the song as a way to tell him you didn’t want to marry him before he embarrassed himself by proposing.

“One for the money, two for the show. I never was ready, so I watch you go.” You looked into his eyes as you sang. “Sometimes you just don't know the answer ‘til someone's on their knees and asks you.”

“Oh God.” Tom gulped.

"She would've made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked in her head, " they said. But you'll find the real thing instead.” You sang to him as he stared at you with wide eyes. “She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred. And hold your hand while dancing. Never leave you standing crestfallen on the landing with champagne problems.”

“Hm.” He squeaked.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket. Her picture in your wallet. You won't remember all my Champagne problems. You won't remember all my Champagne problems.” You played the last few notes before looking at him.

“So.” You smiled. “What do you think?”

Tom opened his mouth to say something, but found his mind blank. You were testing him, and he wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Um, it’s interesting.” He said softly.

“Interesting? Do you not like it?” Your face fell.

“Um, it’s not that.” His expression was just as sad. He appreciated that you wanted to let him down easy, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Tom.” You noticed his solemn expression. “What’s the matter? Is it bad?”

“Do you...did you...”

“Did I what?” You asked when he trailed off.

“Did you find the ring?” He asked suddenly, making your head jut back.

“The...the what?” You laughed in confusion.

“You found the ring and wrote that song, didn’t you?” He asked sadly. “You wrote it and sang it to me because you didn’t know how to tell me you didn’t want to marry me.”

“Tom, what are you talking about?” You wondered as you stood up and walked over to him. “What ring?”

“The ring you found in my sock drawer.” He said like it was obvious. You stared at him for a long time, trying to understand what he was talking about.

“I didn’t find a ring in your sock drawer.” You told him. Tom’s face pulled back in shock as he realized he had jumped to an incorrect conclusion.

“Hm.” He nodded. “It appears I made an inaccurate assumption based on the information that I was given.”

“You weren’t given any information.” You said as you looked at him skeptically. “What’s going on?”

“I...I thought the song was your way of telling me no.” He sheepishly admitted.

“What?” You laughed, still thinking he was joking. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I thought you were sending me a subliminal message!” He exclaimed.

“I wasn’t! It’s just a song!” You shouted back. “And wait a minute, you have a ring in your sock drawer?”

“Yes, and?” He stood his ground.

“Yes, and?” You repeated in shock. “Did you seriously just say yes, and? Like we’re in the middle of an improv game?”

“It’s just a ring.” Tom shrugged it off to save himself from embarrassment. “What about it?”

“What about it?” You laughed in shock. “What kind of ring is it?”

Tom quieted down suddenly, at a loss for words in the middle of your screaming match. He realized he didn’t know how to answer your question, but he couldn’t leave you hanging, so he told you the best thing he could come up with.

“The finger kind.” He said quietly, making you let out a loud groan.

“I know it’s the finger kind.” You shouted. “But what’s it for?”

“Your finger?” Tom shrugged, making you hunch over to keep your composure. He knew he was dropping the ball so he quickly tried to redeem himself.

“I don’t understand the quest-“

“Were you going to propose to me?” You cut him off as you popped back up. All the other thoughts in Toms head went out the window as he remembered the original point of the conversation.

“Yes.” He said after a minute. “I was.”

“Tom.” You whispered through a smile. He smiled back, relishing in the happiness him proposing brought you.

“Hang on a minute.” He said before running out of the room. He returned soon with a velvet black box in his hand. You covered your mouth with your hands at the sight of the box, knowing exactly what it contained.

“I was gonna wait until our anniversary next week, but I guess the secrets kinda out.” He chuckled shyly as he walked up to you. You wiped a few tears away as you put your hands over his, rubbing his hand softly with your thumb.

“This wasn’t how I planned to ask you. I had a whole speech planned.” He said apologetically. “But I was never very good at keeping secrets. Seriously, there are like hours of content online just of me spoiling-“

“Yes.” You cut him off between sniffles.

“Yes?” He asked.

“Yes.” You repeated through a smile. “I will marry you.”

“You will?” His face lit up as his shaking hands struggled to open the box.

“I will.” You nodded repeatedly. Tom let out a shocked laugh as tears of joy streamed down his face. He finally got the box open and put the ring on your finger with trembling hands. You looked at it in admiration before pulling him into a long kiss. He instantly kissed you back, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist to keep you as close as possible. When you finally pulled away, you were both a mess of snot and tears.

“I got boogers on your face.” He grimaced as he wiped your face with the bottom of his shirt.

“It’s okay.” You chuckled. “I’ll be mad about it tomorrow, but I’m too happy right now. I’m so, so happy.”

“I am too.” He sniffled. “How should we celebrate?”

“I have an idea.” You smirked. “Champagne?”

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[clanwarrior-tumbly]

HELLO <333

I’m here with a fic request 😌

I’ve been seeing it around and I would LOVE to see it as an actual fic SO-

Yaniplier x Reader but the reader is the kid of Noir/Actor Mark!

Maybe they go to school together and Reader has the same mannerisms as their dad and Yan confesses to them after building up the courage under the cherry blossom tree ❤️

(Random note but I realized ADWM’s meta ending mentions that Actor has kids & he doesn’t seem to care for them, but I think it’s bc they aren’t into acting like he is. So [y/n] will be and he’ll be very caring/proud of them :) )

.............

Your dad was a man of many qualities.

Conceited, rich, and narcissistic? Yes. 

But you knew that he loved you no matter what--his only kid who lived with him and shared his love for acting. He wanted the best life for you possible.

So he sent you to an arts school to further pursue acting just like him, learning all there is to know from the ground up. He tends to brag that he was “born” with such a talent, though you just respond with a “sure whatever you say, dad.”

Of course, you were no 100-year-old shapeshifter who could turn into whatever character he wanted at the snap of his fingers. But lately the traits of some of those characters have rubbed off on you--from a clumsy robber’s high energy to an investigative engineer’s coolness. 

Speaking of which, the latter was actually part of his recent production set in the cosmos: In Space with Mark Iplier, a tale of a hero and his beloved captain trying to stop a dangerous wormhole from destroying the universe.

It’s the kind of amazing and bizarre story only he could create.

Even at home he kept the "noir" persona on often, sometimes going out in public in disguise. Mainly to spend time with you and avoid the often annoying paparazzi.

He got lost in those characters a lot, almost forgetting who he really is. But you didn’t mind. That’s just who he was and you loved him regardless of who he acted like.

Mark knew this, too.

He could yell at his cast and makeup team all day long, but he’d never raise his voice at you for any reason. Along with all his fortune and fame, he treasured you the most:

A rising star.

..........

‘And thus, my pride and joy sets off on their journey. Their rise to stardom begins within the walls of this very school-’

“Dad, I can hear your monologue again.”

“..oops, I forget.” With a coy smile, Noir Mark patted your shoulder in reassurance. “You’ll do great. Don’t sweat it. Nobody starts out perfect...except for me of course.” He joked, chuckling softly. “But you got this. Go make your old man proud.”

Nodding, you pulled your bag strap up and waved goodbye to him as you entered the school.

Today you were meeting with people who landed roles in the first production of this year: Heathers. You were just a background character for one act, but your dad reassured you that you’ll outshine them all.

Of course, you weren’t so sure about that. You don’t wanna take the attention away from the main cast, though you appreciated his confidence in you.

As you entered the hallway towards the auditorium, you peeked at your folder, seeing the scripts you were supposed to be studying.

Then you bumped into someone.

“Oof!”

“Ah-!!”

Immediately you recognized that "someone” by his red and black hair and glasses, which fell off as you both collided.

Your friend and crush: Yan.

He knelt down, frantically trying to find them and mumbling apologies to you.

“Oh it’s not your fault! Here. I found them.” You smiled and put the glasses in his hands. “Sorry, Yan. I was so excited to meet up with everyone for the Heathers thing.”

“Th-Thanks, [y/n].” He stammered, shakily putting the glasses back on his face. Already he was blushing at the realization you touched them. “I was actually on my way there too.”

“You got a role?”

“Yep! JD!” He sprang to his feet, as did you.

“Woah, that’s awesome! I’m proud of you! That’s way better than this random-ass background character I got.” You huffed as you put the folder in your bag to keep it safe. “Thought I would’ve gotten something better. I thought my audition was great, but hey..you take whatever you can get, right?”

“Exactly! I’m sure you’ll do great in any role! Even if you don’t speak or dance or do anything, you’d outshine them all!”

“You sound like my dad.” You chuckled, sighing as you both realized you were in front of the auditorium entrance. “Welp, we should probably head inside before we’re too late.”

“..y-yeah! Together.” He blushed once more, being swift to hold the door open for you and let you go inside first. And he followed closely behind you, eager to meet the rest of the cast.

Though more importantly, he was eager to spend time with you.

Yan knew so much about you--his senpai who happened to be a rich and famous actor’s kid. Like your father he sees you radiating with confidence, even a little bit of vanity, but he loved that about you. 

Once he was actually invited to Markiplier Manor for dinner, and god the expectations skyrocketed.

At least Mr. Iplier wasn’t some judgmental boomer who scoffed at his red hair and was actually very welcoming, though Yan still felt nervous. He couldn’t exactly tell him that he was obsessed over his own kid. 

So he tried making a good first impression, telling him of his passions for writing and acting. Fortunately those seemed to win his favor, and he was invited back to the manor as a guest anytime.

He did it!

Now that he impressed your father and landed this big role, he was two steps closer to finally being with you.

But he’d have to wait and see how you interacted with the rest of the cast before deciding his next move.

.........

Weeks pass and rehearsals start for the Heathers production. You’ve visited the auditorium to watch Yan several times after your classes and..

Wow.

What else was there to say?

He really dug the role of JD, speaking with such flair and mysterious associated with his character. Even after rehearsals you’d hear him humming Meant to be Yours to himself in the library and cafeteria. 

Of course, he had to dye his hair back to a natural color to fit the character better but you could still see the redness.

Considering he was the main antagonist of the musical, it made sense for him to be quite busy. Yet he always found a way to spend time with you--seeming more excited to be done with rehearsal than actually go to it. He was a natural at his role, not needing much practice.

You’ve told your father about him, showing video of one of his performances, and he was impressed.

“Isn’t JD the one who tried blowing up the school?”

“Uh yeah?”

He just laughs, quoting one of the lines from his “head engineer” persona: "I’ve yet to meet a problem that can’t be solved with explosives.”

Yeah, he definitely loved his characters. You wondered what Yan thought of his movies and how he’d react to seeing him as one.

That’s what you hoped to ask him at school today, though on your way there you received a text, asking you to meet him under the cherry blossom tree that’s on the perimeter of the campus, far away from anyone else.

Although all the romance movies you’ve seen made it easy to guess his intentions, you didn’t get your hopes up as you headed there.

Your dad has casually mentioned how infatuated Yan seems to be with you, calling him a “sharp young man” with “looks that could kill”. He reminded him of someone he once knew and fell in love with for a short time--even though it was only meant to be part of the narrative. 

Funny to think you initially thought Yan was just a really shy guy whose true personality shines on the stage.

Either way, you met him at the tree, but he wasn’t in the usual outfit he wore for rehearsals. Instead it was that sailor schoolgirl uniform he loved wearing yet got heavily bullied for.

The first time you met him, you stood up for him and chased off the assholes making fun of him. But he hasn’t worn it since that day, even when you try reassuring him he shouldn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks.

So for him to wear it now, just for you, must mean something...

“Hey. I missed that outfit.”

Looking up from his notebook, Yan beamed and closed it, jumping to his feet as he shuffled towards you. “Y-You did? Well..I just..had to wear it today before rehearsal.”

“Oh? And why would that be?” You put your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow. Of course, you were just playing along. Like your dad you were good at pretending.

He took a deep breath, opening his notebook and taking a small pink envelope out of it, shakily handing it to you. “This..j-just read it.”

The moment it was passed from his hands to yours, he hid his face behind the book, hearing you gently tear it open and silence. He peeked for a second and saw you reading the note, before hiding again as he was scared to see your reaction.

“I’m meant to be yours, but will you be mine, [y/n]? <3″

You smiled sweetly at the confession and sighed, putting the note in your pocket. “Yan?”

Nervously he looked up, his face burning as red as his hair at the suspicious gaze you sent him. “This is sweet, but you’re not gonna pull a JD and destroy this school, are you?”

‘Only if anyone gets in the way of our love...I would do that and more for senpai...’ He thought to himself, but he bit his tongue and shook his head.

“N-No! I promise!”

“Then..I accept your confession.” You stepped forward and took the notebook, lowering it so you could see how bashful he was growing. 

‘Such a perfect place this is. The warm shining sun, the cherry blossom petals dancing around us, and my crush finally confessing his feelings for me. This beats any romantic film I’ve ever seen-’

“I-It’s better than any of that??”

“..oh shit, you heard me?”

Damn it, it seems "Noir Iplier” was finally rubbing his influence off on you.

Oh well, like father like kid.

You sighed softly and kissed Yan’s cheek, chuckling at how he squeaked. Then you brought him into a hug, which he returned with a smile stretching ear-to-ear wanting to pick you up and spin you around.

This was the best day ever.

For once, he didn’t have to get any blood on his hands!