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yourbooksname · 3 years

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Batfam disney film headcanons

Normal Disney

The Little Mermaid

- Damian finds Eric ‘likeable’ - its because Eric is practically Dick Grayson

- Bruce accidentally reveals that young Dick had a crush on Ariel and the others tease him mercilessly

- “Seriously, Dickhead, every redhead you’ve ever seen?”

- Dick grumbles but has a gleam in his eyes as he stares at the screen during part of your world

- “Is she serious? Surely one who has studied this much knows what feet are-”

- “Demon, shut up”

- They say Grimsby is a knock off alfred

- “Oh, please, knock-off means it bears some resemblance. I surely hope other than the accent you all see no relation of him to me.”

- They all kinda love Ursula, in their own special way

- Steph is dancing around, if you could call it dancing, dragging cass with her (who is smiling the whole time) during under the sea

- Jason leans back and, with a cruel smile on his face, exclaimes that “this is the best song” during les poissons

- Which causes an uproar from most of the others

Aladdin

- Everyone tiptoes around it, and then steph makes one joke and suddenly its constant jason jokes

- “Is crime alley this musical?”

- “Would you all shut up? *mumbling* I didn’t even have a monkey”

- “Who’s your Jasmine, aladdin?”

- “Tt, statistically speaking based on time spent together, it’s that buffoon Harper”

- Jason is an inch from killing them but none of them really care at this point

- Once they caught him humming one jump ahead while cooking and they will never ever let him live it down

- “steph I swear if you keep playing the Gilbert Gottfried version of WAP over iago-”

- Rajah appears, and it’s too late for them to turn the movie off before

- “Father, I would like a bengal tiger.”

- Most of them are clearly having a great time during friend like me

- Jason brings up the talent of Robin williams

- and damian says “who”

- Jason turns, bewildered, and decides he’s going to force him to watch every single robin williams movie until he finds one he likes (It’s Jumanji, surprisingly. Dick likes Mrs. Doubtfire, Tim loves Good Will Hunting, Jason loves Dead Poets Society, Bruce is partial to Good Morning Vietnam, Steph loves Aladdin, Cass loves Hook)

- They have a moment of silence at the end for robin williams

Lilo and Stitch

- The family likes to joke Damien is stitch

- “A violent” “but loveable” “little gremlin...”

- “Tt, if we’re assigning roles, then Drake is that contemptuous redheaded girl”

- ‘Listen brat-”

- Duke shuts them up by saying that “this is the most ohana family i’ve ever seen in my life”

- Cass wants to learn how to spit fire

- Steph is fully on board, and so is Jason

- Damian wants to watch

- Alfred is about to have a heart attack

- But Damian does enjoy the movie, as it reminds him of his acceptance among the bats - not that he’d tell them

- Surprisingly, this movie also means a lot to Jason and Dick

- even if they don’t say it out loud

- they watched it together when Jason was young; and the sibling relationship in the movie moves ‘em both - and Jason can enjoy some quality Elvis

- However awkward, they’re nicer to each other after each viewing, and on a bad day they both get emotional during the movie (one more than the other, openly anyway)

- That cannot and will not stop Jason from messing with the bats/breaking the rules the next day on Patrol, and when Dick or Bruce confronts him, yelling “Ohana, bitch” and jumping off the building

A goofy movie

- Similar to Lilo and Stitch in terms of bonding, it brings Bruce closer to the boys

- but especially Jason, because Jason

- is Jason

- and would def. be the one to object the most to a road trip

- They make an uneasy but loving eye contact during ‘Nobody else but you’

- Dick LOVES powerline, tell me i’m wrong; this bitch knows all the dance moves to both Stand Out and Eye to Eye (and the perfect catch, technically)

- Tim thinks the movie is worth watching just for Bobby (”you would, nerd”)

- Steph insists it has the best looking Pizza in any movie ever

“LOOK AT IT”

“We’re looking steph”

“LOOK HARDER”

Pixar lightning round

- Toy Story

- It’s been banned at Wayne Manor

- Not because they don’t like it

- But because Jason objects to Randy Newman

- And Dick attempts even MORE death-defying stunts on Patrol, claiming he’s “falling with style”

- A bug’s life

- Dick likes it, it reminds him of the circus,

- but other than that none of them really care too much about it

- Toy Story 2

- Often referenced whenever a family member breaks their arm (”NOW I CAN’T GO TO COWBOY CAMP”

- Jason says “Hey look, it’s bruce” every time zurg is on screen and Bruce is sick of it

- Once, an argument broke out during ‘When she loved me’

- “Oh, Sarah McLachlan”

- “Who?”

- “The one singing - she does those stupid ASPCA commercials”

- “Stupid? It is advertising to aid animals subjected to cruelty. You’re the stupid one.”

- “Brat, shut up, it’s a commercial.”

- “Do you support animal cruelty?”

- “What?! I-”

- “Go ahead, take it out on me. I am glad Alfred and Titus are not here as I know they would be your primary target, monster.”

- So they’ve stopped watching the movie

- Monsters inc.

- Jason always wants to watch it

- he used to love watching it with Roy (who, unbeknownst to anyone except Jason and Kori) would cry at the ending thinking of Lian

- It’s also just hilarious

- Finding Nemo

- They think it’ll teach Bruce to be less overprotective

- They were wrong

- He hovers even more

- Which prompts steph to walk up to a warehouse on a mission yelling “look at me, i’m gonna go touch the butt”

- when Gil came on screen someone said “look, it’s deathstroke” which prompted a chuckle out of everyone

-The Incredibles;

-They all recognize the irony of a superhero family movie, but enjoy it nonetheless

- Once, Jason pointed out how similar Syndrome’s origin story was to Tim

- everyone was a little rattled, and were grateful Tim decided to persist to good

-Cars

- “Wow”

- “WOW”

- “wow”

-Ratatouille

- Tim and Barbara both love it

- They admire the work being done almost methodically

- Jason and Alfred enjoy the cooking in the movie, as they are both avid chefs

- Damian also admires the film, though he called the plot “ludicrous” he likes the music

- They have to force Dick out of the destroyed kitchen as he yells “anyone can cook!” the next day

- Wall-E

- Cass loves this one - especially as it’s mostly told through body language

-It inspires Tim to start a new ‘Go green’ wayne manor initiative

- Damian will watch the first half but insists the movie loses its quality when the humans arrive

- Up

- Damian wants a talking dog

- Dick’s favorite pixar movie, probably

- He loves the beginning, and the soundtrack, and the house flying, and Ellie

- Once Tim got him a grape soda pin and he wore it for weeks

- Brave;

-They tease Dick more (redhead)

- The girls love it

- At least one person tries to do a scottish accent with every viewing

- Inside Out

- Dick was sobbing by the end

- Cause this mans does nothing but bottle up all emotions other than joy

- For the people around him

- He gets the support from his family that Riley gets and suddenly everyone’s emotional (as emotional as Bats can be, I suppose)

- Coco

- Jason sings remember me in spanish often when he thinks no one is around

- They watch it on Halloween and Jason laments how young him probably would have gone as Miguel for halloween with the hoodie his mom gave him; however it wouldn’t fit now

- throwing him a Dia De los Muertos celebration (yes Jason is latino fight me)

- He appreciates it, begrudgingly, but gets emotional when he finds a new red hoodie up in his room, not knowing who its from

- It becomes his new favorite pixar movie

______ If you have more movie ideas please let me know because i’m loving doing this

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kuramirocket · 3 years

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Whenever I visit Olvera Street, as I did a couple of weeks ago, my walk through the historic corridor is always the same.

Start at the plaza. Pass the stand where out-of-towners and politicians have donned sombreros and serapes for photos ever since the city turned this area into a tourist trap in 1930.

Look at the vendor stalls. Wonder if I need a new guayabera. Gobble up two beef taquitos bathed in avocado salsa at Cielito Lindo. Then return to my car and go home.

I’ve done this walk as a kid, and as an adult. For food crawls and quick lunches. With grad students on field trips, and with the late Anthony Bourdain for an episode of his “Parts Unknown.”

This last visit was different, though: I had my own camera crew with me.

My last chance at Hollywood fame was going to live or die on Olvera Street.

I was shooting a sizzle reel — footage that a producer will turn into a clip for television executives to determine whether I’m worthy of a show. In this case, I want to turn my 2012 book “Taco USA: How Mexican Food Conquered America” into the next “Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.” Or “Somebody Feed Phil.” Or an Alton Brown ripoff. Or a TikTok series.

Anything at this point, really.

For more than a decade, I’ve tried to break into Hollywood with some success — but the experience has left me cynical. Personal experience and the historical record have taught me that studios and streamers still want Mexicans to stay in the same cinematic lane that American film has paved for more than a century. We’re forever labeled… something. Exotic. Dangerous. Weighed down with problems. Never fully developed, autonomous humans. Always “Mexican.”

Even if we’re natives of Southern California. Especially if we’re natives of Southern California.

I hope my sizzle reel will lead to something different. I doubt it will because the issue is systemic. Industry executives, producers, directors and scriptwriters can only portray the Mexicans they know — and in a perverse, self-fulfilling prophecy, they mostly only know the Mexicans their industry depicts even in a region where Latinos make up nearly half the population.

The vicious cycle even infects creators like me.

As the film crew and I left for our next location, I stopped and looked around. We were right where I began, except I now looked south on Main Street. The plaza was to my left. City Hall loomed on the horizon. The vista was the same as the opening scene of “Bordertown,” a 1935 Warner Bros. film I had seen the night before. It was the first Hollywood movie to address modern-day Mexican Americans in Los Angeles.

What I saw was more than déjà vu. It was a reminder that 86 years later, Hollywood’s Mexican problem hasn’t really progressed at all.

Birth of a stereotype

Screen misrepresentation of Mexicans isn’t just a longstanding wrong; it’s an original sin. And it has an unsurprising Adam: D.W. Griffith.

He’s most infamous for reawakening the Ku Klux Klan with his 1915 epic “The Birth of a Nation.” Far less examined is how Griffith’s earliest works also helped give American filmmakers a language with which to typecast Mexicans.

Two of his first six films were so-called “greaser” movies, one-reelers where Mexican Americans were racialized as inherently criminal and played by white people. His 1908 effort “The Greaser’s Gauntlet” is the earliest film to use the slur in its title. Griffith filmed at least eight greaser movies on the East Coast before heading to Southern California in early 1910 for better weather.

The new setting allowed Griffith to double down on his Mexican obsession. He used the San Gabriel and San Juan Capistrano missions as backdrops for melodramas embossed with the Spanish Fantasy Heritage, the white California myth that romanticized the state’s Mexican past even as it discriminated against the Mexicans of the present.

In films such as his 1910 shorts “The Thread of Destiny,” “In Old California” (the first movie shot in what would become Hollywood) and “The Two Brothers,” Griffith codified cinematic Mexican characters and themes that persist. The reprobate father. The saintly mother. The wayward son. The idea that Mexicans are forever doomed because they’re, well, Mexicans.

Griffith based his plots not on how modern-day Mexicans actually lived, but rather on how white people thought they did.

A riot nearly broke out as Latinos felt the scene mocked them. It was perhaps the earliest Latino protest against negative depictions of them on the big screen.

But the threat of angry Mexicans didn’t kill greaser movies. Griffith showed the box-office potential of the genre, and many American cinematic pioneers dabbled in them. Thomas Edison’s company shot some, as did its biggest rival, Vitagraph Studios. So did Mutual Film, an early home for Charlie Chaplin. Horror legend Lon Chaney played a greaser. The first western star, Broncho Billy Anderson, made a career out of besting them.

These films were so noxious that the Mexican government in 1922 banned studios that produced them from the country until they “retired... denigrating films from worldwide circulation,” according to a letter that Mexican President Álvaro Obregón wrote to his Secretariat of External Relations. The gambit worked: the greaser films ended. Screenwriters instead reimagined Mexicans as Latin lovers, Mexican spitfires, buffoons, peons, mere bandits and other negative stereotypes.

That’s why “Bordertown” surprised me when I finally saw it. The Warner Bros. movie, starring Paul Muni as an Eastside lawyer named Johnny Ramirez and Bette Davis as the temptress whom he spurns, was popular when released. Today, it’s almost impossible to see outside of a hard-to-find DVD and an occasional Muni marathon on Turner Classic Movies.

Based on a novel of the same name; Muni was a non-Mexican playing a Mexican. Johnny Ramirez had a fiery temper, a bad accent and repeatedly called his mother (played by Spanish actress Soledad Jiminez ) “mamacita,” who in turn calls him “Juanito.” The infamous, incredulous ending has Ramirez suddenly realizing the vacuity of his fast, fun life and returning to the Eastside “back where I belong ... with my own people.” And the film’s poster features a bug-eyed, sombrero-wearing Muni pawing a fetching Davis, even though Ramirez never made a move on Davis’ character or wore a sombrero.

These and other faux pas (like Ramirez’s friends singing “La Cucaracha” at a party) distract from a movie that didn’t try to mask the discrimination Mexicans faced in 1930s Los Angeles. Ramirez can’t find justice for his neighbor, who lost his produce truck after a drunk socialite on her way back from dinner at Las Golondrinas on Olvera Street smashed into it. That very socialite, whom Ramirez goes on to date (don’t ask), repeatedly calls him “Savage” as a term of endearment. When Ramirez tires of American bigotry and announces he’s moving south of the border to run a casino, a priest in brownface asks him to remain.

“For what?” Ramirez replies. “So those white little mugs who call themselves gentlemen and aristocrats can make a fool out of me?”

“Bordertown” sprung up from Warner Bros.’ Depression-era roster of social-problem films that served as a rough-edged alternative to the escapism offered by MGM, Disney and Paramount. But its makers committed the same error Griffith did: They fell back on tropes instead of talking to Mexicans right in front of them who might offer a better tale.

Just take the first shot of “Bordertown,” the one I inadvertently recreated on my television shoot.

Under a title that reads “Los Angeles … the Mexican Quarter,” viewers see Olvera Street’s plaza emptier than it should be. That’s because just four years earlier, immigration officials rounded up hundreds of individuals at that very spot. The move was part of a repatriation effort by the American government that saw them boot about a million Mexicans — citizens and not — from the United States during the 1930s.

Following that opening shot is a brief glimpse of a theater marquee that advertises a Mexican music trio called Los Madrugadores (“The Early Risers”). They were the most popular Spanish-language group in Southern California at the time, singing traditional corridos but also ballads about the struggles Mexicans faced in the United States. Lead singer Pedro J. González hosted a popular AM radio morning show heard as far away as Texas that mixed music and denunciations against racism.

By the time “Bordertown” was released in 1935, Gonzalez was in San Quentin, jailed by a false accusation of statutory rape pursued by an L.A. district attorney’s office happy to lock up a critic. He was freed in 1940 after the alleged victim recanted her confession, then summarily deported to Tijuana, where Gonzalez continued his career before returning to California in the 1970s.

Doesn’t Gonzalez and his times make a better movie than “Bordertown”? Warner Bros. could have offered a bold corrective to the image of Mexican Americans if they had just paid attention to their own footage! Instead, Gonzalez’s saga wouldn’t be told on film until a 1984 documentary and 1988 drama.

Both were shot in San Diego. Both received only limited screenings at theaters across the American Southwest and an airing on PBS before going on video. No streamer carries it.

How Hollywood imagines Mexicans versus how we really are turned real for me in 2013, when I became a consulting producer for a Fox cartoon about life on the U.S.-Mexico border.

The title? “Bordertown.”

It aired in 2015 and lasted one season. I enjoyed the end product. I even got to write an episode, which just so happened to be the series finale.

The gig was a dream long deferred. My bachelor’s degree from Chapman University was in film. I had visions of becoming the brown Tarantino or a Mexican Truffaut before journalism got in the way. Over the years, there was Hollywood interest in articles or columns I wrote but never anything that required I do more than a couple of meetings — or scripts by white screenwriters that went nowhere.

But “Bordertown” opened up more doors for me and inspired me to give Hollywood a go.

While I worked on the cartoon, I got another consulting producer credit on a Fusion special for comedian Al Madrigal and sold a script to ABC that same year about gentrification in Boyle Heights through the eyes of a restaurant years before the subject became a trend. Pitch meetings piled up with so much frequency that my childhood friends coined a nickname for me: Hollywood Gus.

My run wouldn’t last long. The microagressions became too annoying.

The veteran writers on “Bordertown” rolled their eyes any time I said that one of their jokes was clichéd, like the one about how eating beans gave our characters flatulent superpowers or the one about a donkey show in Tijuana. Or when they initially rejected a joke about menudo, saying no one knew what the soup was, and they weren’t happy when another Latino writer and I pointed out that you’re pretty clueless if you’ve lived in Southern California for a while and don’t know what menudo is.

The writers were so petty, in fact, that they snuck a line into the animated “Bordertown” where the main character said, “There’s nothing worse than a Mexican with glasses” — which is now my public email to forever remind me of how clueless Hollywood is.

The insults didn’t bother me so much as the insight I gained from those interactions: The only Latinos most Hollywood types know are the janitors and security guards at the studio, and nannies and gardeners at their homes. The few Latinos in the industry I met had assimilated into this worldview as well.

Could I blame them for their ignorance when it came to capturing Mexican American stories, especially those in Southern California? Of course I can.

What ended any aspirations for a full-time Hollywood career was a meeting with a television executive shortly after ABC passed on my Boyle Heights script (characters weren’t believable, per the rejection). They repeatedly asked that I think about doing a show about my father’s life, which didn’t interest me. Comedies about immigrant parents are clichéd at this point. So one day I blurted that I was more interested in telling my stories.

I never heard from the executive again.

A pair of boots

Five years later, and that Hollywood dream just won’t leave me.

I’m not leaving journalism. But at this point, I just want to prove to myself that I can help exorcise D.W. Griffith’s anti-Mexican demons from Hollywood once and for all. That I can show the Netflix honcho they were wrong for passing on a “Taco USA” series with the excuse that the topic of Mexican food in the United States was too “limited.” And the Food Network people who said they just couldn’t see a show about the subject as being as “fun” as it was. Or the bigtime Latino actor’s production company who wanted the rights to my "¡Ask a Mexican!” book, then ghosted me after I said I didn’t hold them but I did own the rights to my brain.

When this food-show sizzle reel gets cut, and I start my Hollywood jarabe anew, I’ll keep in mind a line in “Bordertown” that Johnny Ramirez said: “An American man can lift himself up by his bootstraps. All he needs is strength and a pair of boots.”

Mexicans have had the strength since forever in this town. But can Hollywood finally give us the botas?

#mexican #mexican american #chicano #chicana #usa #united states #racism #discrimination #hollywood #movies #history #california #stereotypes #latinos #latinas #ku klux klan #mexico #🇲🇽

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 5 years

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Barcelona is for Lovers - Chapter 4

Chapter 4! Many thanks to @stupidsatsuma. @doctorroseprompts

Chapter 5 will be available on April 7th; chapters are posted every other Sunday

General warnings for: hanky panky. Take the ‘lovers’ part of the title seriously. Major happenings of the smutty variety this chapter! Rated M

Masterlist

Summary

Three months after Rose and the Doctor are reunited and promptly ditched on a beach in Norway, they are still trying to find their feet. Rose plans a trip to Barcelona for them to relax, reconnect, and hopefully consummate their relationship.

Drifting awake the next morning, Rose was disappointed but unsurprised to find herself alone in bed. After stumbling to the toilet she didn’t bother with a dressing gown, just padded to the kitchen in her skimpy nighty.

“Good morning!” The Doctor was chipper as ever, meeting her in the living room and pressing a mug into her hands. “Let’s sit outside.” He steered her out to the back patio, and they curled up together on the sofa from the previous evening. Rose kept her eyes closed as she sipped her tea, listening with one ear as he chattered about his plans for the day – she got the gist of it, which was they would go into Barcelona and play tourist – as she mostly focused on sifting through the day before and drinking her perfectly-made tea.

“What do you think?”

“Sounds perfect, love,” she yawned, snuggling her head into his shoulder. “Soon’s I’m done my cuppa.”

He hummed in agreement, his arm a pleasant weight on her thighs where they draped over his lap, fingers sliding over her knee.

After a few minutes, she swung her legs away with a groan, standing and stretching her back. “C’mon, let’s get ready and go.”

“This was nice,” he protested feebly, reaching for her. “Come back.”

Rose considered him for a moment, before straddling his waist and kissing him deeply. “Unless you’re suddenly ready for sex, I need to go put clothes on. You’re too damn tempting.”

He reluctantly let her go, waiting until she backed away to stand as well. “So are you.”

Laughing, she pulled him back to their room. “Go change,” she ordered, “so we can get out of this house and I can have a full minute of not thinking about shagging you.”

“Not sure I want that,” he murmured, pressing his mouth to hers before grabbing his clothes.

“Tease!”

Two hours later, Rose listened with one ear to the tour guide. They’d found a free walking tour, and for once the Doctor was willing to let someone else be the expert. Holding hands they were at the back of the group, just soaking up the ambiance and the time together.

“Look behind you, five o’clock,” the Doctor muttered in her ear, blatantly staring over her head. “Not too quick!”

“Trouble?” she whispered back hopefully, slowly pivoting. Trained eyes scanned the area, but she didn’t see anything noteworthy; in fact, there wasn’t much to see at all, just little shops. A few passersby, but on the whole, a quiet area. “What is it?”

“Gelato.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Ice cream? Really? It’s ten in the morning.”

“Gelato, it’s not the same,” he hissed. “And, yes.”

Rose bit her lip, glancing between him, the store, and the tour guide.

“Come on, he’s boring, we can go exploring on our own,” he coaxed, and she sighed in surrender.

“Okay.”

The Doctor brightened immediately, grabbing her hand and hissing, “Run!”

They took off across the square together, shrieking with laughter as the guide shouted after them. The shop was quiet on account of the hour, and they ended up with a seven-scoop monstrosity to share at his insistence as they walked around.

“So, tell me about the planet,” Rose suggested, digging her spoon into the coffee flavored scoop.

“What, Earth?” The Doctor was working on the banana scoop, trying to cram as much on the tiny plastic spoon as physically possible.

“No, Barcelona.”

He stopped walking, glancing down at her in surprise. “What?”

“When you were first regenerating, after the Gamestation, you mentioned wanting to take me to the planet Barcelona – not that we ever went. I was just wondering what it was like, if it was anything like the city.”

He started walking again, slower this time. “Well, it’s… shall we say peak is during the 32nd century. Solar flares in the 25th century forced humans off Earth, and they mostly left in great big ships holding entire countries. Well, Spain had broken up by then so the Catalan contingent set off on its own – localism was big at the time. They found a nice little planet in the next system over, terraformed it, and moved in. Took a handful of generations to build it up, big revivalist movement when they were doing the planning, decided to recreate home. The modern conveniences were installed of course, but otherwise it was built exactly as it had been in the height of its empire in the, oh, 13th century. With handpicked modern buildings, such as a completed La Sagrada Familia as well, naturally. The rest of the Iberian Peninsula’s occupants, meaning the other Spanish contingents and the Portuguese, settled on nearby planets, so they had trade and travel and everything.”

“And the dogs?”

“No noses,” he confirmed, “which look a little odd at first glance but you get used to it. Well, we say dogs, but they’re really the indigenous version of wolves domesticated over the centuries.”

“Sounds brilliant,” Rose sighed, leaning her head briefly on his shoulder. “We should try and go, when the TARDIS is fully grown.”

“First stop,” he promised with a grin. “Provided it exists in this universe.”

“Perfect.”

They spent the rest of the day wandering through the city, letting the Doctor’s encyclopedic mind be their guide. Rose was never quite sure whether she was relieved or disappointed that nothing unusual happened, but it was good to be able to relax with him. They were finding their way again, remembering how it was to be alone together, something that hadn’t happened in more than five years for her. As much as she loved her parents and brother, their constant presence wasn’t conducive to reconnecting and being together like they had been before. Then and there, Rose resolved to start looking for a place of their own as soon as they returned to London.

They got street food for lunch, and dinner was a cute little bistro along the waterfront, the Balearic Sea stretching out in front of them as the sun set.

“This was a perfect day,” Rose murmured, as they walked back to the car arm in arm.

He squeezed her closer, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. “Any day with you’s a perfect day, no matter what we’re doing.”

“Ditto.” Then she reconsidered. “Well, I’d say ‘great’. Any day is great. Any day where we’re not nearly executed is ‘perfect’.”

“Ah, live a little,” the Doctor scoffed. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“The gallows in Salem Town,” she retorted. “I have plenty a sense of adventure, believe me, but… I’ve had too many too close calls in the last few years, with my jumps. Nearly dying generally during an outing? Fine. But being executed? No thanks.”

He opened and closed his mouth several times, before changing the subject. “Anything else you want to do while we’re here?”

She let him. “Not today. I’d like to come in later this week and go shopping, and take a day or two and go see the countryside, but mostly I want to spend my time in the pool or by the beach.”

“Molto bene,” he proclaimed, before frowning. “Or, in this case, muy bien.”

Rose wrinkled her nose as he opened the car door for her. “Maybe stick to Italian.”

“Yeah…”

They drove back in the dark, listening to the local radio. He was behind the wheel this time, one hand steering as the other held her own. The wind whipped Rose’s hair, the water sparkling in the clear moonlight on her right, and she thanked her lucky stars that she was here in this moment, with him.

“More wine on the patio?” she suggested as they entered the house.

“Sure.” He snatched the bottle opener from her fingers with a kiss. “D’you want to go change? Get comfortable?”

Rose leaned back to study him. From any other bloke that would be code for ‘put on lingerie’, but his expression was perfectly innocent, as though genuinely concerned about her comfort level. “All right.”

In the bedroom she pawed through her drawers, trying to decide on something. Was it code? Should she wear something regular? Sexy? Somewhere between? Finally she settled on boyshorts and a tank with no bra. Comfortable, not inherently seductive, it was easy access without blatant advertising.

She found him out on the couch, two full wine glasses on the ottoman in front of him as he stared up at the sky. “Hey.”

“Hi.” His eyes raked over her, and she thought they darkened at so much skin on display, but he didn’t react otherwise but to hand her one of the glasses, keeping the other for himself. “Sit.”

Rose settled on the couch next to him, her legs curled up under her as she leaned into his side. He didn’t seem to mind, simply settled his arm around her shoulders and held her close. Staring up as well, she sighed. “I hate that we weren’t able to bring the stars back.” There were still plenty twinkling away, and the average person might barely notice any were missing, but Rose knew. She’d been the first to see them go out, had raised the alarm. Hundreds were gone, vanished from the naked eye, and a fresh wave of hatred for Davros and the Daleks washed through her.

“We stopped it happening. There’s nothing more we could have done,” he reminded her. “And now we’re here, together, so as awful as it was, it still pulled us home, so it wasn’t all bad.”

“Home?” Rose repeated, rolling her eyes. “I’m still here in this universe, only now you’re stuck here with me.”

“Yeah, but stuck with you, that’s not so bad,” he teased, and she reluctantly grinned. “Besides, home is where the heart is, yeah? And my heart’s been here for a long time now.”

“Aww,” she cooed, “that’s so cute.” Stretching her neck she kissed him, leaning into it.

He responded passionately, working his tongue between her lips to flick around her mouth. One hand came up to burrow into her hair, holding her against him. Rose matched his furor, fisting his shirt for leverage as she fought back, sucking at his tongue before forcing it back to his mouth, hers chasing it to explore his own.

Her wine glass spilled with their movement and she broke away, panting, to right it. She glanced up at the Doctor, intending to apologize as he’d been splashed, but the hungry look in his eye wiped the thought from her mind. Snatching his own glass, she set them both on the ottoman before shifting.

“What-” he started to protest, falling silent when she slung her leg over his hip and straddled him, pressing down against the hint of bulge there. He grunted, hands coming to her hips and forcing her down harder against him.

Rose hummed in approval as she grasped his head and dove back into him. They struggled for dominance in the kiss, fighting in every arena. Her hips rocked against him, feeling him grow as his hands plastered themselves to her bum, helping guide her movements. One of her hands tangled in his hair as the other grasped the back of the couch, using the hold for leverage as she moved over him.

“This okay?” she gasped, breaking the kiss.

“Don’t stop,” he hissed, throwing his head back and exposing his throat. “Keep doing that.”

“Tell me if I need to,” Rose ordered, before lowering her mouth to his adam’s apple. “Don’t hesitate.” The Doctor moaned, loudly, as she nipped, licked, and sucked at his neck and jaw, still moving against him. She shifted the angle at one point, so she could receive more of the stimulation, and the change made him cry out.

“Still okay?”

“Fuck, yes,” he cursed, and she nearly lost her rhythm in surprise at the vulgarity. “Yes, Rose, yes.”

Her skin tingled; she was close, and sensed the Doctor was just on the precipice as well. Resolved to bring them both over- damn the consequences- she was bearing down with all she had, sucking his earlobe into her mouth as he panted beneath her, when a ringing filtered through her mind.

“Wha’?” Her hips instinctively slowed, head raising as she blearily looked around in confusion as the Doctor whimpered. The ringing continued, and as she stopped moving, she realized it was her mobile. “Shit!”

“No!” the Doctor protested, as she leaned back to grab it from the ottoman, where it sat under a napkin. “Rose!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chanted, answering the call. “What?!”

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” her mother snarked, and Rose almost cried.

“Yes. What do you want?”

“How’s your trip been so far? I thought you were going to call.”

Rose grit her teeth, her lower half throbbing painfully in desperate need of release. “It’s going well. The house is nice. Yesterday was spent in the ocean and pool. Today we went to Barcelona.”

“Oooh, how was that? What did you see? Did you do any shopping?”

“Mum-” Rose rubbed at her forehead with her other hand, trying to focus. “I told you we’d tell you all about it when we got back.”

“I know, but it’s been five years love, I’m not used to not talking to you every day anymore. I miss you.”

“Mum, I’m on holiday with my boyfriend,” she grit out, “and I already told you you were interrupting. Can I call you tomorrow? We can talk for as long as you like then.”

“Oh, what could you be in the middle of that’s more important?” Jackie scoffed, a commotion behind her.

“Mum, I’m hanging up,” Rose bit out. “If there’s an emergency, spit it out. Otherwise, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Oh, fine,” she relented. “Whatever. I see how it’s going to be – just like before, eh? No time for your mum. Just remember to use a condom. I’m too young to be a gran.” And she hung up.

Rose screeched in frustration, tossing the mobile to the other side of the couch. “She just- she just- argh!” She met the Doctor’s gaze, biting her lip at the pleading, needy look she found there. “Sorry.”

He grunted. “Erm, what we were doing was… nice.”

“Good.”

“It… seemed like it was about to get nicer?” he continued sheepishly.

“If you mean you were about to have an orgasm, yeah, was ‘bout to get very nice. For both of us.”

“D’you think- can we possibly-”

Rose hummed in encouragement, rubbing at his shoulders. “Whatever it is, you can say it.”

“Can you… keep going?” he finally managed, not quite meeting her eye. “Please?”

“You wanted to wait,” she reminded him gently. “You weren’t ready. I don’t want you to have any regrets, or feel like things happened too soon.”

“It’s okay,” the Doctor promised, finally meeting her gaze. “I really liked what we were doing, and want to… to see it through. If you’re okay with it.”

Rose bit her lip, looking over his shoulder as she considered. “You sure?”

“Yes.” He kissed her sweetly. “Very sure.”

“Okay.” And she climbed off his lap. “This might be a bit easier if you take off your shorts – but leave the boxers on.”

He did as directed eagerly, leaving them in a pile on the ground as he sat back against the couch, this time in the middle. “Good?”

“Mhmm.” Rose climbed on top of him carefully, reaching for him before hesitating. “Can I… adjust you?”

“Okay.”

She gingerly reached between them, shifting his erection through his pants so she wouldn’t hurt him. “Right.” Snuggling down against him, she adjusted both of them until she was satisfied. “Ready?”

“Please.”

She slowly began to rock down on him, and he immediately perked back up. Tilting her hips forward so he began to hit her perfectly, she let out a ragged moan. The Doctor’s grip had returned to her hips, holding her so tightly she suspected there would be bruises tomorrow. She hoped there were.

It didn’t take them long to build back up, and soon their sighs and moans painted the night air, as she writhed on top of him. All at once it was too much and not enough, and she nearly sobbed with relief when his hands came up to play with her breasts, teasing her nipples. “Close, close, close, fuck babe I’m so close.” She had a death grip on the back of the sofa, rocking over him desperately. Her eyes were closed, head thrown back, which meant she was entirely unprepared for a warm, wet mouth to close over her breast through the thin cotton and suckle the nipple. “Shit!” With a loud cry she came, collapsing forward onto his chest as he groaned in her ear.

Heart pounding, she didn’t move for what felt like forever until she remembered him and sat up, groaning. “Did you…” One look at his blissed-out face was enough of an answer, and she fought down a giggle. “What’d you think?”

“Is it always like that?” he asked in a daze, fingertips drawing lazy circles on her hips.

Rose stretched her back, pushing her hips into his and wrinkling her nose at the damp mess between them. “No. It’s usually better.”

“I don’t know if I could survive better,” the Doctor mumbled. “That was… that was… oh, Rose.” Cupping the back of her head, he drew her towards him for a tender kiss. “Thank you.”

She hummed. “You’re welcome – and thank you.”

After a moment they burst into laughter, letting it ring out into the night air.

“I’m starting to understand your species obsession with this particular pastime,” he drawled, and Rose giggled, kissing his nose.

“Babe, you haven’t got a clue.”

#bbatcfic #doctorroseprompts #ficandchips #Doctor Who #TenTooxRose #TenToo #Rose Tyler #prompted #Barcelona is for Lovers #oohlala

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au-tumn-al · 6 years

Text

TTGC has been out for 2 weeks now and since it’s been enough time for me to stop crying and actually do the post-game stuff, I want to get all my thoughts out about it. It’ll be under a cut because it’ll be long, and I’m not sure how many of my followers are actually interested in what I have to say. Which is ofc fine, I just like talking about it and I’ve been sitting on some of this for a while.

To start off, I loved Torna ~ The Golden Country. It’s the best expansion DLC we’ll be seeing from Nintendo, and probably from most other games in general, for a while.

I like its core cast of main characters than base XC2, and I think I like it a little more than XC1’s as well. I didn’t actually like any of the characters more than my favorites from base XC2, but as a whole, they were all really likable and never felt like they were falling behind in the background. I never felt like “yeah, I like them I guess” to any of the cast members like Sharla was for me from XC1, and a pretty decent chunk of the protagonists in XC2. ...Because XC2′s cast was way too huge with too much focus on the antagonists and somehow not enough at the same time, but that’s neither here. Technically Team Hugo isn’t really as important to the story as Lora, Jin, Addam, and Mythra, but the sidequests very easily fixed that for me. All the characters were very present in the side-content so I never forgot about them. I regularly did sidequests when they popped up so it felt like a natural part of the story.

I would say that it delivered in everything that I was hoping for from a story standpoint but it really, really didn’t. One of the things I was looking forward to the most was seeing more of Amalthus and Malos’s dynamic before Malos left to start his rampage. Their relationship is only told through subtext in the core game and what we saw was interesting. Even in some of chapter 8 and 9, it almost felt like they were trying one-up the other on how much destruction they could cause. Malos’s “Amalthus, you never disappoint” line delivery even makes it sound like he was looking forward to what his driver would be throwing at Alrest.

The only thing we got from Torna about how they were initially with each other was

Malos shows up and Amalthus’s knee-jerk reaction is a deadpan “oh god, it’s this asshole” look. I enjoyed it probably more than I was meant to, but I wish we got to see more. Maybe it was a little unrealistic to expect it, but considering how much of the story depends on their relationship with each other, was it really?

Another thing I was hoping for was more backstory for Minoth. I wanted to know if he knew Malos (which was actually answered though, so that was nice) since they shared a driver, and I really wanted to know how he ended up becoming a flesh eater. Judicium was already destroyed by the time TTGC rolled around and we barely went into what a flesh eater even was, so that was lame. That said though, the game did go into his relationship with Amalthus and it told us all that was really important, on top of giving us some other stuff I wasn’t expecting (a North American wild west motif, Spanish, a weapon deadass called “gunknife”, and Elma’s specials except more stylized) so you certainly won’t hear me complaining. I loved what we got with Minoth even if it wasn’t exactly what I wanted, and I think he’s great.

Another thing that I was expecting was for Malos to have more screentime. He was heavily advertised so I think I’m justified in expecting this. There wasn’t necessarily anything about Malos I wanted expanded upon, I just wanted to see him more since he makes everything about a billion times more entertaining just by being there. He completely stole the show in every cutscene he was in and I loved every second of it. He was kicking everyone’s asses in his first boss fight and even won, but I was loving his script, animation, and voice acting far too much to care.

there was a nice little detail to his animation too

After he punches the ground for the Monado Cyclone(?), you can see him shaking his hand off because like damn, that probably hurt. ,,,I just liked it. Don’t ask me why.

He’s probably the main reason I only play in English to be honest. His voice actor sells the script and character so perfectly. I seriously don’t know if I’d like Malos as much as I do if he was played by someone else. He might be the only Xenoblade character other than maybe Shulk and Lin that I can say this about.

and his monologue to the party right after his first boss fight where he says “they see the divine flame of life and piss all over it” while sauntering away was actually the best scene in the game. We didn’t see as much of Malos as I would have wanted, but every scene we did get was the best so like with Minoth, I can’t complain. I love this man. He’s the most entertaining sack of shit I’ve ever had the pleasure of enjoying.

My ruined expectations and Malos aside, what the game actually gave us was so good, I can’t even complain about the things I wanted to see because they gave us plenty of stuff I didn’t know I wanted. The two biggest ones, for me anyway, are Mythra and Addam.

I had no idea that TTGC would flesh her out the way they did, and I am not disappointed. Mythra was amazing in TTGC, and really made me appreciate her and her character arc in the base game a lot more. I loved how generally unbearable and unlikable they made her. She’s completely self-absorbed and full of herself, and just overall extremely similar to Malos. The way the game handles her attitude was really well done too. Because the other characters are constantly calling her out for her bad behavior (esp. Jin and Brighid. Lora chips in too sometimes) and lack of awareness on top of being the verbal punching bag and the butt of a lot of the jokes in the game, she’s not obnoxious to the player. She could have been really annoying, but she wasn’t. On the topic of the jokes though, I laughed at more of TTGC’s comedy. They relied less on anime tropes and were more character focused, which are usually the jokes I like more. The game felt a lot more like XC1 in that aspect, and that was really great.

Moving on, I loved Addam. He was my favorite character in the game. Making him act like Mythra’s dad was something I wasn’t expecting and I loved it. I have a pretty big post in my drafts where I talk about him extensively so that should go up at some point. It’s mostly about how he’s a really good foil to Rex and how he failed as a driver rather than about his pretty fabulous dynamic with Mythra (even if he ended up rejecting her as his blade, he did accept her as person for him to take care of, and he did everything he could in that area) though. Oh, and because there’s no way to shoehorn this in that Addam post, I want to bring something up. I don’t know if there’s any good footage of this (if there is, please send it to me so I can edit it in), but there’s a post battle conversation between Mythra and Lora that goes kind of like this:

Mythra: “Hey, Lora, what do you do when the going gets tough?”

Lora: “Just think about the people I care about.”

Mythra: “Think of loved ones, huh?”

Lora: “Yeah. If I do that, I’m usually grinning like an idiot.”

Now, let’s look at Mythra when she’s at one of her lowest. She’s scared and feels alone. Malos is attacking her with everything he’s got, and she’s is looking for anything to hold on to. ...You see where I’m going with this.

She flashes to memories of her friends, and thinks of both Addam and Milton specifically. The thing is though, for all she knows, Milton could be dead from Malos’s initial attack, and Addam is doing everything he can to hold her back from fully transforming into Pneuma because of his distrust and fear of her. Mythra trying to think of all her loved ones wasn’t enough, and then all she got was a confusing vision of a person she’d never met before. She’s completely alone, confused, and hurt, and she doesn’t have anything there to ground her. That’s when she breaks down in tears, and then starts sinking Torna in a daze because she can’t control her power.

...on a more positive note, two of the visions she gets of Rex is of him accepting her in chapter 7.

So that was finding comfort in a loved one, but it was just too soon. Like Jin told her, her true driver and real time to come as her own as a person wasn’t in Torna. It certainly didn’t help at the time, though.

At that point in chapter 7, she was in a similarly low state as she was in TTGC, except she had Rex that time, and then was fully able to achieve her full power as an Aegis. It should be noted Mythra’s “I just...want...to save...” line was apparently horribly translated, and the original was more along the lines of her begging for someone to save her. That’s what I hear anyway and I can believe it. It makes more sense that way.

Good God, was this a great expansion. It was already pretty fantastic with just its setting and premise alone, but it does an even better job in making me appreciate a lot of the scenes in XC2. Even the already-amazing scene in chapter 7. sPEAKING OF ALREADY AMAZING SCENES MADE BETTER BY TTGC

Rex: “I don’t even know what I’m doing here anymore... Did...did I go wrong somewhere...?”

This is one of my favorite Mythra scenes in the entire game, TTGC included. It’s so small but it’s so good. I don’t think I even need to explain why this is made better by TTGC.

XC2 is very loud, and unabashedly anime, but it has quiet scenes like this and dammit, are they the best parts of the game. I think they’re even made better by the fact XC2′s tone is generally so upbeat and anime.

I said this before, but TTGC didn’t tell us anything new. We already knew pretty much all of the events of the game before it came out. Maybe we were missing a few details, but in the end, we knew how things were going to go down. Mythra becoming a much more interesting character because of the expansion pass just by being able to see her growth just shows how important the “show, don’t tell” rule is.

I love Haze a lot. I hate how she’s a third wheel in Team Lora, I hate how Addam and Jin are the only people who really pay any attention to her, and I hate even more that no one hugs her when she’s crying at the end of the game.

oh yeah, Lora and Jin were the main characters. They weren’t very interesting to me (Lora barely had an arc and all of Jin’s intricacies mostly come from the base game) so I don’t have a lot to say about them other than I really liked them. The ending would have completely broke me if the game forced me to watch Lora die so I don’t even care that it was left out.

People consider the lyrics of “A Moment of Eternity” a message from Lora to Jin but I like to pretend that it’s Addam to Mythra because it’s less depressing that way. The singer is encouraging their loved one to find someone to help them move on and if it was to Jin, that meant that Lora’s last wish for him never happened. He met Malos and then

but seriously though, it could be both. The song ties in pretty well to “One Last You”, and that was very obviously from Pneuma about Rex. It was probably supposed to be up to interpretation anyway. ...a little off-topic, but there’s a line in the song that goes “time flowed differently for us/not to say it was all bad” and then there’s a scene where Addam talks about how he doesn’t have enough time to adapt to Mythra so...idk, maybe that’s something? I mean, Lora got 17 years with Jin, so she didn’t exactly have the short one year Addam had with Mythra.

i’m done now.

Half of this was me gushing about Mythra. I don’t even care because I loved her. Please forgive any of the obvious signs that I didn’t spend very long proofreading this thanks--

#personal #xenoblade chronicles 2 #torna spoilers #this is a long-ass post lmao

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omegaling · 6 years

Text

Allez Cuisine! ~Chapter Fourteen

There’s so much negativity and discourse on my dash right now. Here, have an update. At least it’s something positive for a change. -omegaling

Chapter Fourteen: Bone and Bread

Kylo turned the television remote in his hand. It felt far more like a bomb detonator than a harmless household appliance.

Kylo hated television and everything that went into making it. A vast portion of his childhood memories were of blazing hot lights, great snarls of cords covering the floor like fat snakes, and too many bodies in too small a space, shouting orders and directions and constantly snapping at him for not being where he was supposed to be. He remembered headaches and panic attacks and more broken promises than he could count. Most accurately, he remembered crouching in a forest of audio and video equipment, watching his mother being interviewed. It always felt like something out of a bad dream. The woman sitting across from the TV show host looked and sounded like his mother, but the heavy makeup, harsh lighting and artificial environment made him think that she had been replaced by a robot, or one of the aliens from Invasion of the Body Snatchers. While most children were glued to their TV for an obscene amount of time day in and day out, Kylo learned at an early age that it only served to warp people and reality into something nightmarish and barely recognizable.

That, or it snatched people away altogether, coercing them with money and fame in exchange for leaving their families for months on end so millions of strangers could be entertained for an hour a week. Kylo swore, even before he finished losing all his baby teeth, that he would never succumb to the media’s evil clutches the way his parents had.

That same vow was broken nearly fifteen years later, undone by a signature at the end of a three hundred page contract. It was a small price to pay in return for the full realization of all his visions and dreams. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if people who sold their souls to the devil thought the same thing in the beginning.

Working in television as an adult made him - if possible - loath it even more. It was only a combination of his intense dislike of social media and post 9/11 anxiety that compelled him to keep a flat screen TV and Xfinity connection in his bedroom, and even then he only turned it on during an emergency so he could be kept up-to-date with all announcements and developments (the last time being Hurricane Sandy). Everything else was just nonsensical noise: meaningless sporting events and screaming advertisements, over-produced and overrated serial shows, and of course, the steaming cesspool of the criminally misnamed “reality TV.” He even went as far as to ban any discussion of television while his chefs were on the clock. They were at Vader to cook, not to discuss the events of the previous night’s episode of American Idol (and what in the everlasting fuck as a “Honey Boo Boo?”).

The digital clock on his nightstand pinged the hour: it was now or never. Kylo hit the power button on the remote and braced himself for the worst.

For Kylo, the only thing worse than making TV was having to watch himself on it. It brought back too many hurtful memories of his few television debuts with his mother, when the makeup department loudly fretted about the number of moles and acne scars on his face they had to conceal, or how to best cover his ears so they weren’t his most prominent feature and how it was too bad they couldn’t do the same for his nose. Once that was done there were still the cameramen, who complained about not being able to fit his gangle frame in the same shots as his mother. Not matter how old he got, Kylo would only ever see the too-tall awkward teenager with disproportionate features in a too-long face, and know that people always wondered how the regal Leia Organa and the devilishly charming Han Solo failed to pass down even a single attractive gene to their only child. Kylo would turn thirty two that year, and the memory still cut him as deep as the sharpest knife in his kitchen.

Thankfully, his attention was quickly diverted elsewhere. Not more than a second after the Chairman called out his signature line Rey came barreling onto the screen, nearly colliding with the altar as she scooped up armfulls of the secret ingredients before bolting back to her station.

Although they were growing more comfortable around each other, Rey was still mindful about what she said and did when she was with him. Every now and then he would catch a glimpse of that fiery spirit that first got his attention, like sunlight peeking through a crack in the wall. It was bright and warm, and called to him like a moth to a flame. But then she realized what she was doing and seal it away again, as though she was worried that his opinion of her would change in an instant if she slipped up. He wanted to reassure her that she didn’t have to worry about that, that he wanted her to be open with him instead of feeling like she had to hide a part of herself away, but he always refrained. Anything that could potentially disrupt their delicate status quo was not worth the risk, so he’d just have to learn to settle with what he had. And what he had right now was Iron Chef America.

For the next half our Kylo perched on the end of his bed, elbows on his knees and chin resting on his interlaced fingers, a small but undeniably tender smile on his face as he watch Rey tear through Kitchen Stadium like a miniaturized tornado. He even allowed himself a chuckle at the flabbergasted look on his own face when she fixed the ice cream machine. Her lack of experience was painfully obvious, but where he once found it aggravating he now saw her for what she truly was: a rare, precious jewel freshly unearthed, ready to be crafted into something of incalculable worth. Dameron may have gotten her started down the road to being a great chef, but it would take a certain kind of teacher to unlock her full potential.

Kylo had intended to turn off his TV before the judging began since the sous chefs had nothing to do with it, but he suddenly found himself unwilling to do so. He would never forget how that bolt of inspiration felt when she shot him that positively wicked grin after the ice cream machine was fixed. All of the remaining preconceptions he had of her were abolished in that instant when he recognized in her the ability to thrive off of stress and chaos rather than be beaten down by it, to accept any challenge with claws out and teeth bared. He could practically see it unfurl in her eyes like a dark flower, ready to ensnare anyone in its thorns who dared underestimate her, and before he could fully think it through he had to - just had to - make sure everyone else knew it too.

He was not disappointed; as the sphere of dark chocolate melted away to reveal the heart of pomegranate sorbet on the inside, he knew that the judges were not looking at food, but reliving the myth of Hades and his queen and understand through that first bite why Persephone returned to her husband in the underworld year after year.

Then the camera cut away from him to train directly on Rey’s face, remaining there long enough so her bewildered expression became ingrained on the backs of his eyes.

Kylo’s blood ran cold, turning his heart into a lump of ice in his chest. He fumbled with the remote and turned off the TV, as if doing so would erase what just happened. The first thing he felt after the numbness abated was rage. What the hell were the post-production editors thinking? What was the fucking point? He was ready to seize the phone and demand the whole department be fired until a rare moment of clarity pierced through the fury and yanked him back from the edge. No, this was his fault; he was the one who called attention to her in the first place. The post-production team did nothing but recognize an opportunity to boost the episode’s ratings and took full advantage of it. The damage had been done long before the footage was ever given to them.

Kylo sat shock still on his bed, breathing deeply and trying to recall the meditation techniques his uncle attempted to teach him to better control his temper. The unique design of Walker Tower made it so no outside sounds penetrate his loft, whether it be from the busy streets below or from the other residents, wrapping him in a cocoon of silence that helped him collect his thoughts. For when the phone call came - and come it would - he needed to be ready.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand. The sound it made against the wood sounded like a death rattle.

He wasn’t ready.

Kylo let his phone ring twice more before he reached over to retrieve it. He already let it go for too long; Snoke detested waiting, and the last thing Kylo needed was to make this situation any worse than it already was.

Because “worse” meant dragging Rey into it.

Kylo hit the “call accept” button and brought the phone up to his ear.

“Sir.”

“Quite an interesting episode, Ren,” Snoke’s deep voice filled his head, pushing out all other thoughts. “But I have some questions. Perhaps you’d care to clarify them for me…”

---

“Rey, there’s someone up front who wants to…”

“Tell them to fuck right the fuck off!” Rey snarled.

The host was sent running for cover, the rest of the message left hanging in the kitchen’s steamy air. The rest of the cooks quickly averted their eyes and returned to their individual tasks, pretending they didn’t hear her latest outburst. Even Finn wouldn’t look at her.

Good fucking riddance, Rey thought savagely, returning to de-boning the leg of lamb on her cutting board. I swear if one more person comes in asking about that goddamned episode I’ll chuck them into the oven and serve them as tonight’s special. Roast of It’s-None-Of-Your-Bloody-Business. I’ll even have Poe translate it to Spanish so it sounds fancy.

Half of Finn’s post-episode premier prediction came true: reservations for BB8 spiked, and by the following Friday they were booked solid through the first of the year. What he had been wrong about was they didn’t create waves on social media: they created a tsunami. The day after the episode aired, “#kylorenmysterygirl” and “#whoisrenspersephone” were trending topics. Poe’s accountant, who also ran BB8’s website and social networking pages, reported that their Twitter feed exploded with hundreds of tweets that largely consisted of people analyzing and making theories of the real connection between Rey and Kylo Ren’s sensual final course: he was a jilted lover, it was an on-air declaration of love, or Ren was taking a shot at Poe through his sous were just a few. Other people commented on the more direct interactions between her and Kylo during the course of the episode. A lot of the tweets unanimously agreed that they were “totally flirting,” and one user unabashedly declared “Kylo Ren can bend me over his cutting board any time.” Still more wondered what other parts of him were made of iron.

It was not until she walked into one of the line chefs reading “Kylo Ren looks like he wants to stuff Poe’s cute little sous chef like a Christmas goose” aloud to the rest of the kitchen staff that Rey completely lost her shit. She grabbed the object closest to her - in this case, a large femur bone ready to be split for its marrow - and flung it clear across the kitchen. The projectile hit the offending chef’s phone and knocked it clean out of his hand, shattering the screen in the process. Finn and Poe were barely able to keep her from storming out of her shift. From that moment on, Poe forbade the reading or discussing of any tweets relating to the episode while his staff was in the restaurant, which Rey was eternally grateful for (she did end up paying to replace her co-worker’s screen, and Poe did have to warn her that he’d have to write her up if he caught her throwing dangerous food items again instead of coming to talk to him first. She saw it as a fair trade.)

But the nightmare did not end there. Soon people actually started calling and coming in to BB8 and asking for her directly, hoping to get the first hot insight for their Kylo Ren fan sites or gossip rags from the source. Rey sent each one of them packing as soon as she learned they were in the restaurant, restraining herself only because she didn’t want Poe’s reputation damaged because people overheard that his prep cook was crazy. After almost a whole week of that bullshit, though, her self-control was starting to wear thin.

On top of it all was the looming inevitability of having to see Kylo again for the first time following the episode’s premiere. They had to cancel their lesson the following week, which bummed Rey out since Monday evenings was one of the highlights of her week. With the holidays just around the corner, Vader would be booked for private parties, charity events and high-roller fundraisers from Thanksgiving to the New Year, preparation needed to start as soon as possible, making it one long six-week headache for Kylo. But now, after seeing the episode in its final, disastrous form, Rey was glad for the break...at least for the first twenty four hours before the Twitter shitstorm hit. Now she had to face him with her head full of all the gross things people were saying about them on the Internet. At first she hoped that he wouldn’t have heard any of it, what with his disdain of social media, but she knew she was only fooling herself. He was right in the middle of the beating heart of the culinary world. It was only a matter of time before he heard of it, one way or another.

Then what?

“Rey?”

Rey rounded on the new voice, her boning knife still clutched in her fist. Poe jumped about two feet back, hands held in front of him defensively. “Whoa there, Jakken! The dinner rush is starting soon, so let’s not send anyone to the ER right now, yeah?”

Rey lowered the knife, blowing out a huge sigh. “Sorry, Poe. Someone up front is asking for me again and I am just so fucking over it.”

“See, funny thing is, that’s what I’m here to talk to you about. She said she knew you!” he exclaimed, taking another step back from the murderous glare she gave him. “I’m pretty sure she said her name was Maz…”

Rey was washing her hands before Poe could finish, and did not even bother to dry them before she bolted from the kitchen.

The main dining room of BB8 was only minimally occupied, so Rey spotted the tiny old woman right away. Other than the new webs of wrinkles on her face and the steel-gray hue of her hair, Rey’s former foster mother was exactly as she remembered her; she could almost taste the graham crackers and cold milk that were always waiting for her on the kitchen table when she got home from school. Tears flooded Rey’s eyes as her feet moved on their own accord, not stopping until she was folded in the thin arms of the only mother figure she’d ever known.

---

Poe gave Rey and extended lunch, and for the next two hours she and Maz sat on BB8’s patio beneath one of its heat lamps, eating slices of Finn’s rustic bread directly from the oven and topped with slices of lardo while they caught up on the past ten or so years they’d been separated.

As it turned out, Maz’s visit to New York City was entirely coincidental. Breaking her hip had been a wake-up call that she was not as young as she used to be and she sure as hell was not going to be getting any younger. As soon as her doctor gave her the okay to travel Maz made it her mission to spend her golden years seeing the world as it was meant to be seen. In the last five years she had climbed to the summit of Machu Piccu and strolled along the Great Wall of China, watched the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace and volunteered to help care for orphaned children in Ghana. Just in the past year or so she decided to visit the most famous cities and landmarks in the United States, and it was while she was in her hotel room en route to New York that she happened to catch Poe’s debut on Iron Chef America. While the rest of her tour group headed to Ellis Island for the day, Maz sought out BB8 and her long-lost ward, who was now cooking alongside one of the most revered chefs in the country.

Thankfully, Maz didn’t want to talk about the years between when Rey was taken from her home and when she aged out of the system other than to express her regret that she was not able to keep in touch with her. Rey was perfectly okay with pretending like those years didn’t exist, and instead told Maz all about her time at NYU, the amazing friends she made, then her cooking lessons with Poe and how it lead to her being hired at BB8. While Finn was dropping off more bread at their table he couldn’t help but resist telling Maz about the Shrimp Incident before Rey finally chased him off.

Eventually they got around to talking about their episode of Iron Chef America. It was one of Maz’s favorite shows, so she wanted all of the details. At first Rey was more than happy to oblige, especially with Maz beaming at her like a proud parent, but then the conversation turned to the topic that Rey had hoped to avoid, even though she knew it wasn’t a possibility.

“Never in my life did I think that boy would turn out to be the walking mountain he is. Han was convinced he was doomed to be a beanpole forever.”

“Who?” Rey asked half-heartedly, laying a slice of mahon cheese on some more bread.

“Han Solo’s boy, Ben.”

Rey froze, the bread halfway to her mouth. “I didn’t know Han Solo had any kids.”

“Just the one, and no, I can’t imagine you would since he hasn’t gone by that name for maybe ten years now. You do know him, though.” Maz’s dark eyes sparkled mischievously behind the coke-bottle lenses of her glasses. “He was giving you some pretty heavy-duty bedroom eyes while you were in Kitchen Stadium.”

Rey gasped so sharply she inhaled some bread crumbs, sending her into a coughing fit. When she could finally breathe again, she choked out, “Kylo Ren’s dad is Han Solo? The Han Solo, from Going Solo?”

“The one and the same,” Maz said, as though they were discussing nothing more interesting than the weather.

Rey remembered the time she and Kylo met at the coffee shop with the amazing croissants. Kylo had casually mentioned that his father did a traveling TV show, but never in a million years would she ever link him to her childhood hero. She told Maz as much, leaving out the part of it being a one-on-one meeting no one was supposed to know about.

“Did he mention his mother?”

“Kind of. He said she was wrote food columns and is a restaurant critic…” The realization hit Rey so hard she swayed in her seat a little. “Leia Organa is his mother. That makes his uncle…”

“That one’s a little tougher: Luke Skywalker.”

The laugh that escaped Rey’s mouth was one of half-disbelief, half-incredulity. “And here I was beginning to think Luke Skywalker was a myth based on how I’ve heard other chefs talk about him.”

“Man. Myth. Call him what you will, but no self-respecting restaurateur can deny his contribution to the hospitality culture before he retired and went into hiding. The only other chef in the world who could possibly outdo him was his father, Anakin, and now maybe his nephew.”

Rey had not heard of Anakin Skywalker - meaning he would be Kylo Ren’s grandfather - but her head was so full of new information she did not think she was capable of taking in any more, save one.

“You said Han was worried that Ky… Ben would be scrawny his whole life. Did he say that on one of his episodes?”

“No. He told me himself. Han and I go way, way back.”

As if the universe isn’t small enough already, Rey thought, slumping back in her chair. She did not know which of the revelations was harder to process: that Kylo Ren née Ben Solo was the son of Han Solo and Leia Organa and the nephew of Luke Skywalker: that Maz was a long-time friend of Han Solo and never thought to bring it up to her: or that Kylo worked for a man who had a vendetta against his mother and attempted to undermine her credibility in every way possible, and Kylo was helping him do it. Overshadowing all these thoughts was one much larger, all-encompassing question: what had happened between Ben and his family that made him cut all ties with them and throw in with Snoke’s lot? Suddenly a handful of stupid tweets felt like a very silly and insignificant thing to worry about for the next time she saw Kylo.

Who ever thought that being a cook would be this complicated?

#reylo #reylo fan fiction #reylo au #reylo chef au #allez cuisine!#omegaling writes #meat cw

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reddieaddict · 7 years

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You’re Gonna Live Forever In Me (Part 3/4)

Prequel to Richie’s Eulogy

Official Cast

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: This chapter is when we finally get to see Richie in all his hispanic glory! Haha I hope you all like how I characterized the Losers. I know it’s kinda different than how other people do, but I wanted to spice things up. Bill’s parents are nicer in my fic than in Canon, but I liked to imagine eventually they help and became nicer. Whatever though. I also added a lot more humor into this chapter. I fucking love doing dialogue and really hope you all find it funny. Enjoy.

Pairings: Reddie with a slutty side of Stenbrough and some implied Benverly

Summary: It’s senior year and Eddie has began to notice Richie exhibiting strange behavior. He is worried he might be hiding something, but doesn’t know how to confront Richie about it without setting him off and making matters worse.

December 1994

It was Christmas in Derry, Maine, and just as it’s been since the conception of the club, all seven losers found themselves in the Denbrough’s household, preparing for their annual holiday dinner. Eddie, Mike, Ben, and Bev’s parents preferred to celebrate Christmas Eve as a family, which, coincidentally (and conveniently), allowed the Losers to spend actual Christmas Day with each other. Stan was Jewish as fuck, so he could do whatever the hell he wanted on the Christmas; and Richie’s parents didn’t care what he did any other day of the year, so why would Christmas be any different? For some of the Losers, this was rather poetic; since their friends were more of a family to them than anything their parents could hope or care to be.

Despite having become accustomed to his parent’s active indifference, the holiday season was still an agonizingly difficult time for Richie. This was the time of year when the world seemingly would mock and torture him with imagery of happy families, as if to say “You see this? You will never have this!” Of course, this wasn’t really the case, but it sure felt like it was to Richie. Seeing all these families on TV, in advertisements, and even around town indulging in their pseudo-domestic bliss that came with the yuletide had Richie’s heart set ablaze with jealousy. “How can people be so happy? Why couldn’t he have that? Why did his parents have to be so awful?” These questions loomed over Richie, taunting him.

Unable to make the pessimistic voices in his head dissipate, he figured if he spoke louder and didn’t stop, he could drown them out enough to make the season tolerable. Unfortunately this made him especially intolerable to everyone, except the Losers. Richie has always liked to crack inappropriate jokes and be the center of attention, but this was taking it to a whole new level. Anything and everything out of his trashmouth was either a crass joke or an obscenity, making his nickname even more fitting. The Losers weren’t thrilled about this, but, being aware of his situation, had developed more patience for him throughout the years. This didn’t mean that there weren’t times when Richie crossed thresholds and sent them into a fury.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, ASSHOLE!” Having Richie pestering him all day, had Eddie fed up. “I don’t care if there is a mistletoe under every fucking doorframe, I am not making out with you!”

“Baby, don’t be such a prude! Es Navidad! Dame un besito! Andale mi nino lindo! Presioso!” Eddie hated PDA and refused to kiss Richie outside of the privacy of their rooms, but it was their first Christmas as a couple and Richie wanted to make it special. So, he decided to bring out the big guns: talking in Spanish. Whenever Richie spoke in his native language, Eddie would melt and Richie could get him to do almost anything.

Eddie froze in place as fire spread across his cheeks, giving away just how effective his boyfriend’s tactic had been. “Umm. . . uh. . . ahem! NO! Stop it! I know what you’re doing and that is not going to work this time! I have to get back into the kitchen to help Mrs.Denbrough with dinner! You’ve already distracted me long enough!”

“Bebe, no seas asi! Amorsito! Nene!” Richie cooed as he wrapped himself around Eddie’s shoulders. “Solo un besito chiquito! Aaaandaleeee!”

“Fuck off.” Eddie pushed him away and began to make his way back into the kitchen. “If you keep annoying me, I won’t kiss you for the rest of the week.”

“Hijo de tu puta madre!” Richie mumbled under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest, and a child-like pout settling on his rosy lips.

“I KNOW WHAT THE FUCKING MEANS, DUMBASS!” Eddie retorted as he disappeared behind the kitchen door.

“Oh shit. . .” This is when Richie knew he fucked up.

“So, what happened? Did you get Eddie to kiss you or what?” Stan smirked as he continued to set the table. All of the Losers had been setting up for dinner, while Richie was on his quest for affection.

“Of course he didn’t! Why do you even bother asking, knowing how Eddie is?” Mike answered, beating Richie to the punch.

“Because then he has to admit to us that he didn’t, making his failure humiliating as well as disappointing.” Stan looked directly into Richie’s eyes with a condescending self-satisfaction.

“Wow! You’re evil. . . and I think it’s making fall in love with you all over again.” Bill placed a delicate kiss onto his boyfriend’s temple as he passed by him with a stack of plates in his hands. Through years of speech therapy his stutter had pretty much disappeared, except in the instances when he found himself inebriated.

Richie was none too pleased with getting ambushed by the people who he was starting to regret calling his friends. “Honestly, I don’t get what you’re being so smug about, Staniel. My Eddie is a classy lady with decorum, which more than I can say for you. Don’t think any of us have forgotten about catching you bobbing for Bill’s apple last Halloween!”

“CAN YOU NOT!?” Bev interjected, disgusted with the memory of Bill and Stan mid-blowjob being forced back into her mind. “How are any of SUPPOSED to forget about it if you keep bringing it up, Richie!?”

“Yeah, and my mom is in the next room, idiot!” Bill’s parents were aware and supportive of his son’s relationship, but that didn’t mean they were interested in knowing the details, especially such graphic ones.

“Buscame y me vas a encontrar! That means come for me and you shall find me, Big Bill. I wouldn’t have to put you on blast like that, if you kept your bitch in check.”

“RICHIE!” Ben was fed up with the conversation. He knew there was no real malice behind any of their words, but this was hardly appropriate banter for Christmas dinner with Bill parents. The Denbroughs knew the Losers had quite the potty mouths, but expected them to cut that shit out on Christmas. “Why don’t you help us finish setting up the table, instead of arguing? Dinner is ready and we need to have everything set up, before Eddie and Mrs.Denbrough bring in the serving dishes!”

“Yeah, I think that is a good idea. God knows the last thing I want to think about during dinner is blowjobs.” Mike was by no means a prude, but was not eager to picture his friends getting it on, either.

“Agreed.” Bev stated as she finished placing the utensils on the table.

They finished setting up and took their seats just as Eddie entered the dinning room with the first platter. He placed it in the open space at the center of the table and took his seat beside his boyfriend. “Hola, mi amor!” he said completely butchering the usually romantic Spanish language, with the thickest accent anyone had ever heard, but Richie didn’t care. The sentiment was sweet nonetheless and he thought it was adorable when Eddie tried to speak Spanish.

“Eddie-Bear! My Love! Why are you sitting there, when there is a perfectly comfortable seat here on daddy’s lap?” Richie knew just how to ruin a cute moment.

“Can you behave!? Bill’s mom worked very hard on this dinner! Don’t be rude and wrangle your trashmouth!” Eddie looked up at Richie, who still comically dwarfed him even when seated.

“Whatever, bitch. Don’t be trippin’ balls, you know I got this shit.” He said with a straight face and not a hint of humor to his voice, knowing this would set Eddie off. God, how he enjoyed teasing his boyfriend!!

“Listen here, motherfuck-“

“Eddie!” just then, at the most incriminating moment, Bill’s parents walked into the room, each with a dish in their grasp. “I am so disappointed in you! You know we don’t allow foul language at the dinner table, especially on Christmas, young man!”

“I’m sorry, Mrs.Denbrough. It won’t happen again.” Eddie avoided her eyes at all costs, as if to catch them he would cause him spontaneously combust. He reached under the table and gave Richie a hard pinch to the sensitive flesh of his thighs. A vengeance that was subtle, but very much effective.

“OUCH! You dick!” Richie whisper yelled, only audible to Eddie, and Bev who sat beside him. She giggled.

“You deserve that! You got poor little Eddie in trouble!” she teased.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m some defenseless creature. I’m a man!” Eddie resented his height, and it infuriated him when anybody made him feel weak because of it. “And, yes, you did deserve that, trashmouth.”

“Whatever you say, my little love-muffin. Ay que lindo mi bebe henanito!” Richie knew Eddie hated when he talked to him like a baby, which is exactly why he did it so often.

“Uuuuuuuugh!” Eddie was exhausted and just wanted to enjoy dinner. “Whatever.” The Losers exchanged amused looks. Eddie and Richie always knew how to put on a show, even if they didn’t mean to. Well, at least Eddie didn’t mean to.

“Alright, everybody! Let’s dig in!” Mr. Denbrough said wanting to change topic. Bill’s parents adored having the Losers over for Christmas, even more so since Georgie’s death. It was a pleasant distraction from his absence, though nothing could ever fully make their pain go away. It was still nice to have a house full of children, even if said children weren’t really kids anymore.

As they all began to enjoy their dinner, the couples segregated into their own individual conversations. Mike, being the eligible bachelor that he is, dipped in from one conversation to another. Mike was so charming and intelligent, and always adapted so well to any crowd, so it was effortless for him to jump from one topic to another. Ben and him had a particularly strong bond and could find themselves lost in conversation for hours. It was probably due to their similar qualities and shared interests. One could say they were Richie and Bev’s counterpart; both platonic, both incredible close.

The evening went on pleasantly, as it did every year. Eddie and Richie, surprisingly, bickered very little. Mostly because no one was paying them any attention, so there was no motivation for Richie to rile him up. Their conversation consisted mostly of cute inside jokes and sweet nothings. It would have been perfect, if not for Richie’s constant glances in Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough’s direction. As the boys spoke, Richie would face Eddie, but his eyes would dart towards the parents and linger just a bit too long. Then he’d catch himself, and snap his attention back to his boyfriend. Richie has always had a short attention span, but this was different. It seemed more like Richie COULDN’T get his eyes off the Denbroughs, rather than being incapable of paying attention to Eddie’s words.

Annoyed with Richie’s behavior, he turned to see what it was that he found so fascinating. What he found was a thing of fairytales. There were Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough, leaned into one another with her hands lovingly enveloped within his, as they engaged in their own conversation. The way he looked into her eyes was that of a man who could see the answers to the universe and find treasures untold within her emerald irises. An incandescent luminance seemed to radiate from them, and it was breathtaking in the most understated way possible.

Eddie was touch by such a display of unconditional love, but couldn’t understand why Richie found it so hypnotizing. It’s not like it was the first time they had seen Bill’s parents being affectionate toward each other. What made this instance so special? Eddie turned back to face Richie, who seemed to realize he had caught on to what he was doing. “You okay?”

“Yeah, totally.” Richie responded as he cleared his throat and sat up on his chair making him seem a whole foot taller. Whatever it was that Richie found so engaging about the Denbroughs, it was clear to Eddie that Richie DID NOT want to talk about it. Knowing that asking him anything else about it would just aggravate him and ruin what has been a beautiful night, he relented.

“Okay.” He reached out for Richie’s hand and began to caress his knuckles with the pads of his thumbs. Richie turned to face him again, relaxing into the gesture. Eddie looked into his ebony eyes (noting to himself how much they resembled onyx) with sincere adoration and gifted him with the warmest of smiles. “I love you.”

A smile grew onto Richie’s face; accentuating the creases besides his eyes, a sign Eddie’s words had meant more to him in that moment than they usually would have. And that was saying a something. “I love you, too.”

“Oh my god, I am so stuffed! Eddie you guys did such an amazing job! It was DELICIOUS!” Ben plopped himself on the couch and patted his belly. After dinner everyone had helped out with the dishes, making the whole process much quicker, and they were now ready to enjoy their movie marathon in the living room.

“Thank you, but it was honestly all Mrs. Denbrough. I just did whatever she ordered me to do.” Eddie said humbly, seating himself in his usual spot on the floor, next to Richie.

“Hmmm. . . and what is it I have to do to get you to do the same for me, Eds?” Richie draped his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and pulled him closer to him.

“Don’t be fucking gross! I just ate!” Stan cried from his seat on Bill’s lap. “I swear I’m gonna go all exorcist and projectile vomit all over you, if you don’t cut the shit, Richie!”

“Okay now you’re the one being gross.” Bev grimaced at Stan’s words. “I’d rather talk about the film selection, than talk on any bodily functions or fluids.”

“I second that motion!” Mike said as he sprawled out a large selection of VHS’s on the table in the center of the living room. Everyone leaned in to inspect the titles. “What do you guys think about a Christmas movie?”

“Isn’t that a little cliché?” Bill chimed.

“Well when else are you supposed to watch a Christmas movie?” Ben quipped. “It’s not like we would watch A Christmas Story in July. Well, I don’t know about you, Bill, but we wouldn’t.”

“Appropriate or not, I don’t feel like watching a Christmas movie!” Richie interjected.

“What about a scary movie!?” Mike suggested excitedly, as he held up the new Nightmare on Elm Street movie.

“Yes!!!” Bev and Richie cheered in unison, then smiled at each other, proud of just how much they think alike.

“We can’t watch a scary movie! You know how easily Eddie gets scared, you guys!” Bill warned as he directed a concerned look at Eddie.

“Shut the fuck up! I‘m not scared, you twig-bitch!” Bill was taken back by Eddie’s unexpected outburst. There was a reason Richie and Eddie made such a perfect couple. Amongst many other things, they shared the same lighting wit and venomous tongue. “Don’t project your pussy boyfriend’s fears on to me!”

“I love you so fucking much!” Richie beamed with pride as he hugged Eddie with all his might. “I think it’s so fucking HOT when you get snarky like that! Mmh,” he whispered into Eddie ear, only to find himself chastised by the petite spitfire.

“I resent that, Eddie. I am not scared; I just think horror movies are stupid! They are all so predictable and exactly the same.” Stan attempted to defend himself to no avail. Everyone already knew what Eddie said was true.

“It’s okay to be afraid, Stan. It’s not that big of a deal.” Mike assured Stan, sympathetically.

“I’M NOT SCARED! Put on the fucking movie, I don’t care!” Stan was determined to prove his so-called friends wrong!

“Are you sure, babe?” Bill asked, his words laced with uncertainty.

“YES, I’M SURE BILL! WHAT THE HELL!?” Stan was disappointed that his boyfriend, out of everyone, didn’t believe in him enough to watch a horror movie. “Just put on the fucking movie!”

“Okay, people! You heard Curly Sue!” Richie chanted, earning a leer from his ringlet adorned friend and a giggle from Ben. “Let’s get this shit started!”

Mike took the VHS out of it’s plastic case and inserted it into the player. Everyone made themselves comfortable, paring into their respective couples, ready to enjoy the horror flick. Before they could begin, though, Bill’s parents entered to say goodnight, both ready to head to bed. “Alright, kids! We’re gonna go to bed. It was nice having you over again this year. Have a good night.” Mr. Denbrough said with the typical paternal formality one would expect from a father.

“There are plenty of snacks in the pantry, if you kids get hungry. Feel free to scavenge through.” Mrs. Denbrough added.

“WAIT, MRS. DENBROUGH!” Bev yelled, startling Bill’s parents with the sudden exclamation.

“What is it, Bev!?” Concern littered her petite face. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you! Ha! Ha! It’s just that you’re both under the mistletoe.” She answered bashfully.

“Oh, I guess we are, huh?” Mr. Denbrough smiled sweetly at his wife and she mirror his expression.

“KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!” Everyone except Richie chanted. His stillness garnered the attention of his boyfriend, but Richie would never have noticed. He was lost; disconnect, but burdened. As the Denbroughs shared a kiss that could not be classified as anything other than a quick peck, Richie stared intensely and Eddie’s heart began to race. Eddie immediately recognized the expression that settled onto his face as the same one that he had on that terrifying September morning. It was unmistakable! It had been so long since he had seen it, but he could never confuse or forget it, even if he tried. It was burned into his memory like a scar.

“Richie. . . “ Eddie whispered warily, forgetting all about the other people in the room, who also seemed to be blissfully unaware of the situation between the two boys, having started to clap and cheer for the Denbroughs.

“Hmm. Yeah, Eds?” This time around reaching Richie was much easier, as he snapped back into the present almost instantly. Again, just as last time, he immediately tried to overcompensate with smiles and kisses. “What’s up, baby boy?” he asked nonchalantly as he leaned in for a kiss, which Eddie did not resist.

“Uh. Nothing.” Eddie learned from his experience last time and decided now was NOT the time to interrogate his boyfriend about what just happened. He would leave it for another time when they could both be alone. Richie just responded with another smile, only this time, the creases besides his eye did not make an appearance.

“Hey you two! Are you ready to watch the movie or do we need to give you some privacy?” Mike asked from the recliner he had made himself comfortable on. Eddie took notice of the Denbrough’s absence, surmising they had probably gone to bed in the middle of their exchange, and now all eyes here on them.

“Ha! Ha! Very funny.” He said sarcastically. “Press play, we’re ready.”

“Okay, but no making out during the movie!” Mike taunted with a sing-song tone one would expect from a child.

“Uh, when have we ever done that around you guys? Why don’t you say that to Stan and Bill!? They’re the ones that are always all over each other!” Eddie complained, in his tenor whine.

“Don’t be a fucking hater, midge.” Stan retorted.

“You know, Staniel, I think I like you better with Bill’s dick in your mouth.” Eddie said glaring into Stan’s eyes, a smile spreading on to his lips. “At least then you’re quiet.”

“Oh fuck! Ha! Ha! Ha!” Ben cackled. “Damn, dude.”

‘Okay! Okay! I’m pressing play now, everyone shut the fuck up!” Bev announced, taking the remote from Mike. She, too, had thought it was funny, but thought Stan had been humiliated enough for one day.

Eddie found himself unable to pay attention through the duration of the movie, still concerned with Richie’s strange behavior. He instinctively wanted to be blunt and forward, but he knew better. If he just came out and asked what was wrong, Richie would just flip out on him again. No, he needed to be smart about this. He settled on dealing with this on their walk home, which wouldn’t be for few more hours. This gave him plenty of time to figure out how to approach the subject. He knew that no matter how much prep time he had, Richie would still end up upset somehow, but it didn’t matter. This was something that had to be addressed. He silently prayed to whatever deity would listen, to bless him with the same resilient determination when he was force to face off with a furious Ricardo Alonzo Tozier.

It was now a little passed midnight as Richie and Eddie trekked their way over to the latter’s house, their gloved hands laced together and swinging between them. It had been a quiet walk for the most part, but not uncomfortably so. Both of them found themselves content in the other’s presence, even if neither spoke a word. It was strange to see the couple so well known for their loud and heated arguments be so serene. As heartwarming as it all was, Eddie knew this was just the calm before the storm. Guilt began to overtake him and he decided to break through the stillness.

“You know you can talk to me, right? I mean, like, about ANYTHING! I am here for you.” He said looking up at his raven-haired, statuesque boyfriend, forcing the calmest tone could possibly muster.

“I know, baby-boy.” Richie responded avoiding eye contact, knowing where this conversation was going and wanting to evade it at all costs.

“So, um. . . what’s going on?” That was EXACTLY what Eddie had promised himself not to ask, and then he fucking went off and asked it anyway. He was so frustrated with himself. “Ahem. . . Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is cool. It was a nice night, right?” Richie asked sullenly.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Then, let’s not ruin it. I know where you’re going with this and I appreciate it, babe, but I don’t want to get into it.” Eddie was surprised and slightly hurt by Richie’s bluntness.

“I’m not trying to ruin anything.” Eddie’s eyes darted away from his boyfriend and glued themselves onto the pavement beneath them. “I am just concerned.”

“I know you are, and like I said I appreciate that, but nothing is wrong. If something WERE wrong, I would tell you, Eds.” Richie’s tone was becoming more pointed. “No you wouldn’t.” Eddie said under his breath, which came out as a small cloud due to the freezing temperature of the evening.

“What did you say?” Richie stopped in his tracks and pulled his hand away. “What did you say, Eddie?”

“Nothing.”

“No, go ahead say what you’re really thinking! You wanted to talk; well here’s your chance! Talk!” There was no going back now.

“I-I-I . . . um. . . “ Eddie hesitated as he turned back to face Richie, “I said ‘No, you wouldn’t.’”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean, Eddie?” Richie inched himself closer.

“It’s just that you never talk to me. I mean you do, but only . . .like, only when you . . .”

“Only when I what? When I run to you after my dad kicks my ass? After my mom throws a bottle at my head and tells me to kill myself? Hmm?! Is that what you can’t seem to say?” Richie was not holding back any punches. “It’s funny how you say you want to talk, but here we are and you aren’t even able to finish that sentence!”

“It’s not that I can’t say it! I just have to walk on eggshells for you. If I say the wrong thing you get mad at me!” Eddie was starting to regret having brought the whole thing up.

“Oh, so it’s me!?” Richie widened and narrowed his eyes, pointing towards himself. “So I’m the bad guy!?”

“Richie, stop it! That is not what I said! Why does there always have to be a villain!? It’s just you and me; two people who care about each other! I am just trying to help…” Eddie tried his hardest to pacify Richie, but it seemed to make no difference.

“No, bullshit! I tell you everything is fine! I ask you to trust me and you keep fucking digging, Eddie! Why can’t you just let shit be? Why do you have to keep nagging and bitching!? What the fuck do you want from me? If I don’t want to talk about something, maybe its cause I can’t! Has that ever occurred to you?! No, because you don’t fucking care! No, you just want to martyrize yourself! You want to save me! I don’t need saving Eddie. Just let it fucking go! LET! IT! GO!” Richie was full on shouting now, emphasizing the last three words of his rant by shoving his boyfriend.

Eddie’s amber orbs began to shimmer with tears, but he refused to divert he eyes from Richie’s. “Why . . . Why are you being so mean? I didn’t mean to . . . I- I -I was just-Ugh!” He could find a way to finish a thought, so overwhelmed with hurt and frustration.

“You know what?” Regret had begun to sink in. Hurting Eddie was something Richie never wanted to do, but yet here was his Eds, crying because of him. “I-I-I’m just going to go home.” He turned around to walk back in the direction of his house, but before he could take more than one step he felt a small hand latch onto his arm.

“Wait! Stop!” Eddie began to wipe tear off his face with the hand that was not grasping on to Richie. “No! Don’t leave! Is this what its going be like every time things get difficult? Are you always going to walk away? What’s going to happen when things get to be too hard? When I get to be too annoying? Are you just going to leave me forever?”

“Eddie, I just can’t right now.” Richie pulled away and continued towards him house in wide strides; he needed to get out of there before he made things worse.

Without a second thought, Eddie chased after him and wrapped his small arms around the taller boy’s midsection, “STOP! DON’T LEAVE! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY I MADE YOU MAD; I DIDN’T MEAN TO. I’LL LET IT GO, I PROMISE! JUST- PLEASE DON’T LEAVE!” Eddies sobs tore into Richie’s heart. His body trembled as his tears streamed down his cheeks uncontrollably, his voice deteriorating with every word. “Please don’t be mad at me! Please don’t leave me. I love you. I love you, Richie. I’ll let it go! . . . I’ll let it go.”

“Eddie. . .” Richie’s voice was tender and free of the malice that had poisoned it minutes ago. He turned to face Eddie, pulling him into his chest and rocking them side to side. “Shh. . . It’s okay, baby-boy. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry. I never wanted to make you mad at me, I swear. I just wanted to help! I’m sorry.” Eddies sobs began to die down, but his face remained buried in Richie’s chest.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m not mad, bebe. I promise I’m not mad.” Peppering kisses all over Eddie’s head, Richie tightened his embrace. “You did nothing wrong, I’m the one who should apologize. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I’m sorry, I just…It’s just hard sometimes.”

Moving his arms from Richie’s midsection and wrapping them around his long pale neck, Eddie nestled his face into it’s nook. “I can understand that. I just want you to know that I care. I’m always going care and worry about you. I love you so much, Ricardo Alonzo Tozier! You never have to feel afraid or ashamed to tell me anything. I will always stand by you.”

Richie pulled Eddie away from him and looked into his eyes tenderly. “I love you too Edward Kaspbrak, so fucking much! I’m not going anywhere, you hear me? I will always stand by you, too!” Eddie’s lips spread into a smile, before leaning in to kiss the taller man.“Your nose is freezing! Let’s go home before you catch pneumonia.”

“Ha! Ha! You’re an idiot, but yeah. I’d really like that.” Just like that, it seemed everything reverted back to normal between them.

“You know what I’d really like, Eddie Spaghetti?” Oh yeah, Richie had definitely gone back to his normal self.

“Don’t even THINK we’re gonna have sexy-fun-time, tonight. I am so tired and you definitely need to shower before you get anywhere near my bed.” Eddie foreboded, as they continued their journey home with Richie’s arm draped over his shoulder.

“Eds, have you learned nothing today? I ALWAYS get my way.” he smirked.

“No, you do not!” Eddie looked up at him with narrow eyes and furrowed brows.

“I got you to kiss me tonight out on the sidewalk. It wasn’t underneath a mistletoe but it still counts as PDA!” Just then, Richie leaned in and stole another kiss from his boyfriend.

“That doesn’t count!” Eddie argued.

“Oh fuck yeah it does! Accept defeat and let me ravage you, Juliet!” Before Eddie could attempt to squirm away, Richie wrapped his arms around his hips and lifted him above him. Tickling Eddie tummy with his nose, Richie began to spin them around, playfully.

Eddie grabbed on to his shoulders in an attempt to stabilize himself as he giggled wildly. “Okay! OKAY! OKAAY!!”

“Does that mean yes sexy-fun-time?!” Richie’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively as he gently returned Eddie onto the pavement.

“Hm, we’ll see,” was all Eddie said as he continued his walk home, leaving Richie behind him.

“Oh, Eds, mi amor! You and I both know what that means.”

Eddie giggled in the distance.

Taglist: @bitchardtozier @bloggingandstruggling @11stayradstaybad11 @breakmyreddieheart @reddieformeerkat @purejaeden @julietissue @greywatertozier

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tamboradventure · 4 years

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How the Coronavirus Will Change Travel

Posted: 03/31/20 | March 21st, 2020

On a breezy fall morning, I was walking home from my university’s humanities department after trying to get out of my Spanish language requirement to no avail. On the way, I ran into one of my roommates. He mentioned he had heard that a small plane had crashed into the World Trade Center.

By the time I got home and turned on the TV, both towers were on fire and it was clear this was much more than a small plane gone off course.

In the days and weeks following September 11th, the world changed. Even to my young self, I could feel in my bones that nothing would ever be the same again. There was a pre-9/11 world and we were now forever in a post-9/11 world.

While the later 2008 financial crisis changed the economy and our views on money, 9/11 seemed to change who we fundamentally were as people. It created a shift in thinking and our sense of self. It changed how we Americans viewed the world. There was a “lost innocence.”

As the Coronavirus has rapidly unfolded in the last month, I feel that way again, except this time on a global scale. There was a pre-Coronavirus world and now we will forever be in a post-Coronavirus world.

From how we work, travel, view government, money, and conduct our day-to-day lives, everything is going to be different. And the longer the crisis lasts, the more different it will be. I can’t say just how yet (I’m a bad futurist) but, in my gut, I know change is coming.

But let’s talk about something I do know a bit about: the travel industry.

How is this going to change travel?

The travel industry relies on human movement to function. And, with countrywide lockdowns and most major airlines ceasing operations, no one is moving right now.

Overnight, an industry that employs 10% of the world has come to a near-complete stop.

This is worse than a recession. Because, even in a recession, some people still traveling.

Now no one is moving. The industry is in stasis.

And no one knows how long this is going to last.

Hubei province, the site of the outbreak in China, was in lockdown for over two months. Hong Kong and Singapore, reeling from a recent spike in infections, have relocked down their cities.

And I think that the slow pace of such measures in many countries means most of the world will be in lockdown until May if not early June. Too many people are behind the curve and it will take longer to keep the virus under control than most people think.

So what does this mean for the industry I’ve spent the last twelve years in?

As a whole, I think we’re looking at a drastically smaller travel industry for the foreseeable future. WTTC states that they expect 75 million job loses (at a rate of up to 1 million jobs lost per day).

And it will take years for the industry – and the jobs – to return to pre-Coronavirus levels.

For starters, I don’t think many magazines and online publications will make it through. The 2008 financial crisis shuttered the doors of a lot of publications and those around today live off advertising, brand deals, and events. Ad rates are plummeting as traffic plummets and most brand deals are on hold for now.

With publications furloughing employees, giving pay cuts, and seeing lost revenue that will never come back, if this goes on longer, I think you’ll see around 25% of publications go under. I know four that closed last week. More will come. And those that survive will be smaller and be able to hire few writers.

Additionally, a lot of creators, YouTubers, freelance writers, and bloggers rely on brand partnerships for revenue. The freelance writing market is not a land of riches and, with the majority of writers and online content creators living on thin margins and paycheck to paycheck, the prospect of months of zero income is going to drive people out of the industry. I know a few already looking for the exit. I think 30-40% of people might end up leaving if the industry remains frozen to June.

Moreover, I think many hostels, travel start-ups, and small tour operators will go under too. Most small businesses operate with the tiniest of margins and don’t have a lot of liquidity. They keep enough cash on hand to get by without income for just a few weeks. A sustained shock to their business like this, even with government assistance, is going to simply bankrupt companies. They have too much overhead and costs to sustain them. Many will fold and, when you travel again, you will see fewer hostels, food and walking tour companies, and small tour operators.

When this is all over, I expect it to take years for the travel industry to recover. People will slowly start booking travel again but, like the 2008 crisis, it is going to leave many unemployed and, when you don’t have a job, travel is not a priority. It is luxury people will put off.

I think as the world opens up around the end of May/early June (provided there’s no second spike in infections), people will begin to start booking travel again for later in the summer. Business travel will pick up first but I think most of the tourism you’ll see initially will be local. People will travel around their region before they start taking big international trips again.

First, because it’s cheaper. This pandemic is going to cause a huge recession and massive job loses and, as I said, travel is a luxury and when people are unemployed or have exhausted their savings, big international trips won’t be on their agenda. Second, people will be wary of the risk of another potential outbreak. They will be concerned about picking up the virus as well as being stuck if something happens so until everyone is 100% sure they are fine, people will be more cautious in their travels.

And the cruise industry? Well, ships floating petri dishes and, no matter how good the deals, most people won’t want to get on a ship for the foreseeable future. I believe this will permanently shrink the cruise industry. Images of cruise ships unable to dock in countries will scar our psyche for years to come.

Additionally, I think countries are going to be wary about fully opening up until they know they won’t be importing the virus and there’s some treatment or vaccine. No one wants to open their borders and have a second wave of infections that overloads their healthcare system. I wouldn’t be surprised if you start to see more temperature checks in airports and I wouldn’t be if countries started asking for proof you are COVID-19 negative.

While you will probably see a lot of travel deals as companies just try to cover their costs and stay afloat, I think the whole “hop on the plane and travel” thing is going to be a lot harder until we reach a point where we have a treatment regime and vaccine for this virus.

But, maybe, the silver lining (and I always try to look for one) is that this will lead to more sustainable tourism as countries try to reduce crowds in hopes of keeping the virus in check.

Maybe this is the end of overtourism.

Whatever happens, travel is going to be a very different and smaller industry in the post-Coronavirus world.

P.S. – To keep this website community-focused and community-supported, we’ve launched a Patreon! While you can still access this website for free, Patreon members get access to private content and articles, monthly Q&As, bonus Instagram videos, free books, postcards, entry to our events, and more! Click here to learn more and became part of the club!

Book Your Trip: Logistical Tips and Tricks

Book Your Flight Find a cheap flight by using Skyscanner or Momondo. They are my two favorite search engines, because they search websites and airlines around the globe so you always know no stone is being left unturned.

Book Your Accommodation You can book your hostel with Hostelworld as they have the largest inventory. If you want to stay somewhere other than a hostel, use Booking.com, as they consistently return the cheapest rates for guesthouses and hotels. I use them all the time.

Don’t Forget Travel Insurance Travel insurance will protect you against illness, injury, theft, and cancellations. It’s comprehensive protection in case anything goes wrong. I never go on a trip without it, as I’ve had to use it many times in the past. I’ve been using World Nomads for ten years. My favorite companies that offer the best service and value are:

World Nomads (for everyone below 70)

Insure My Trip (for those 70 and over)

Looking for the best companies to save money with? Check out my resource page for the best companies to use when you travel! I list all those I use — and they’ll save you time and money too!

The post How the Coronavirus Will Change Travel appeared first on Nomadic Matt's Travel Site.

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filipinosmakinghistory · 7 years

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Meet Josh Abalos a Super Senior at UMass Boston! He is a Filipino/Filipino-American who grew up in a setting that emphasized the Filipino culture. Today is his birthday! What do you think is the most common misconception about being Filipino? That we're Mexican or that we speak Spanish? That the United States DIDN'T straight up colonize us after ownership of the archipelago was transferred from the Spanish to the US after the Spanish-American war? That we're dirtier or less civilized than northern/paler Asians? How did you become aware of your cultural identity? I grew up for my first 10 years around New York and New Jersey where there were huge Filipino communities. My parents raised me with the customs that they carried over when they moved to America. They just acted like themselves around me and I absorbed that. So I knew from an early age that I was Filipino but when I moved to Massachusetts at age 10 where there were markedly less Filipinos, and I became mostly surrounded by white people, I started noticing how the color of my skin, and the culture and behavior that I brought with me, stood out from everyone else. The lack of diversity in the new town didn't help either. How much do you identify with the history of the Philippines? Lapu Lapu from the Visayas was pretty badass. He killed Magellan, that cocky Portuguese bastard, and defended the Philippines before the archipelago even had a name. There's also the legend of Urduja (pronounced: urd-oo-ya) from the region of Pangasinan, where my dad's side comes from, though scholars are divided on whether or not she was ever real (I'd bet she was real after some internet research). Anyway she was a fabled warrior princess in the pre-colonial archipelago, who led a band of female warriors and defended her kingdom from foreign invaders as well. Legend has it that she would not marry any man who could not best her in combat. Thus she died a virgin. Wowza. What a woman. Check out the veracity of her story for yourself. http://www.urduja.com/princess.html. Then there's Jose Rizal, who is widely regarded as a polymath, is very respectable in my books for that very trait (also v v v respectable for igniting the revolution just through his writings). He was also a nerd who got around with the ladies (20 different girlfriends), so while I don't necessarily promote promiscuity and especially not infidelity, let it be said you can totally be an over-the-top nerd and still get laid (and inspire a country). Wish I knew that in middle school lol. Otherwise, in regards to my family's history: my lolo (grandfather) on my dad's side fought in World War II. He was at Bataan. He hated the Japanese, and with good reason. They made him and the other 80,000 POWs march some 60 odd miles malnourished and abused. They would torture, physically, and mentally attack them while marching. He watched his buddies die right next to him from exhaustion, starvation, and bullets to the back of their heads. Whenever a POW couldn't keep up, they were either shot or just left in a ditch to wither. He almost didn't make it, and I might never have been born. Bittersweetly, he survived only to die of cancer right around the time I was born. I wish I had at least met him. My dad recalls these memories of his to me. He tells me that lolo always used to hate when dad did Japanese stuff. Lolo never wanted his son to drive Japanese cars, eat sushi, or to learn karate (all of which he did anyway; the damned rascal was a 2nd degree blackbelt in wado karate). Given all that, sometimes I wonder what my lolo would think of me if he were here today. I watch a lot of anime, I pretend to (ironically) act japanese sometimes, but you could say I look like a total weeb. It's weird to think about. I don't hate Japanese people, although I think some of the them are weird (have you heard of waifu body pillows? jeez). Would my grandfather disown me? Would he understand what it is to be a kid in this day and age? Is religion important in your household? Describe a situation illustrating why or why not. It's pretty important. My parents have poon amongst which is the Santo Niño. We have a prayer group which rotates amongst different families' houses where we pray the rosary together and praise Jesus and stuff but I'm not so much into it anymore considering I don't align myself with the Catholic Church anymore. Have you ever struggled with your racial/ethnic/cultural identity? Describe this struggle and how you overcame it. Yea people called me a twinkie or a banana all the time because I acted so white. Yellow on the outside, white on the inside. I wanted to believe I was just like all the other kids in middle and high school but nothing could be farther from the truth. Oh sure, I learned how to fit in reaaal good but that doesn't mean I still wouldn't get sly remarks like "oh I didn't know you would be into punk rock" or the not so subtle "I thought you were Mexican!" and "Oh you're from there? You must eat dog then". Everywhere I go, I'm reminded that I don't exactly belong. You don't see a lot of Asians at punk shows, especially around here. Kids at concerts assume I don't know the scene, I don't know the bands, that I'm just a casual show goer, or worse a "poseur". At the kind of shows I go to, three is a crowd in terms of Asians being there.

Sure Asians are supposedly the "model minority" but I'm brown. I'm a "dirty Asian". On top of which, I have a full bushy beard and moustache these days. I don't look so innocent anymore (I try to avoid cops and follow the law). Filipinos don't even recognize me as Filipino at first glance anymore. I was in a crowd of Filipinos from my parents' generation and they all spoke English around me, but as soon as I stepped away, they felt comfortable enough to speak Tagalog. I had to tell them I was fully Filipino and that my parents grew up in the home country. What's worse is I don't speak any Filipino language so even when they know I'm full-blooded Filipino, the older generation sees me as less because I can't speak Tagalog. I was at a Filipino birthday party over the summer, where this tita (auntie) overheard that the birthday girl's new boyfriend barely understands a single lick of Tagalog. Soon as she heard that flew off the handle shouting at no one in particular "ANONG PROBLEMA NG MGA KABATAAN NGAYON. THESE KIDS SHOULD UNDERSTAND TAGALOG. THEY SHOULD BE ASHAMED. THEIR PARENTS SHOULD BE ASHAMED. SUSMARYOSEP" and I'm just here like lmao chill out tita, sorry we grew up in America.

But yea there is that slight pang of regret that I can't connect with my people on that level. Nowadays I'm President of my Filipino club, Hoy! Pinoy!, at UMass Boston. Second Term whoop whoop. I try to re-acculturate myself with the Philippines and try to provide the opportunity for members of my club to do the same. I helped found the club specifically to find my roots again, and be around people who were like-minded.

And I recommend to anyone and everyone who is disconnected from their family's original home land, to join a cultural group, such as a college Filipino club in my case, so you can be surrounded by people who work together to find yourselves and your identity in something other than just the fads, memes, and trivialities of American life. So you can understand the struggle your ancestors, your family, have gone through to get you where you are now. So you can understand why you face the hardship you're facing now from society around you. If your family isn't perfect, it's probably in large part from the /STRESS/ of they and their ancestor's way of life being uprooted and changed so many times and so often, that life has been just chaos, whether if it's the Spanish colonizing us, the Japanese abusing us, the white Americans imperializing us, or just the immigrant experience as a whole. And if your group isn't asking the hard questions, like where y'all came from, how will you know where to go next? You cannot grow as a person or even take a step forward if you don't have a place from where you began. You can't build a house without a foundation. As humans, we build narratives, personal stories, which we use to identify ourselves, and figure out who we are and what we want. Take psych 101 and you'll hear this. Take Asian American Psychology and you might find a group of students who would help you understand who you are as both a Filipino and an American. Who cares if it's not a course that teaches you how to make money or where you learn a marketable skill? You'll be unhappy in life if you're rich and successful but don't know who you are and what you truly want. Ask me how many people I grew up with that are like that now.

If you really, truly know who you are as a person, that can never be taken away from you, no matter how many times you're told who you are by dominant ethnic group who have never experienced what it's like to not be white, what to want by advertisements and product reviews that just want your money, or what to change so you can try to be just like them and not so foreign and scary. You're an individual which is both scary and exciting. But you're also human, and you need to be loved, regardless.

As Uncle Iroh once said: "It's time for you to look *inward* and begin asking yourself the big questions. Who are you and what do *you* want?"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aYkuuu9u3EI What are you most proud of as a Filipino/Filipino-American? FOOD. UGH BUT WHY DOES IT TAKE SO LONG TO COOK?? . . . . . . . . ANS: BC IT'S MADE WITH LOVE. What challenges did you face, growing up as a Filipino/Filipino-American?For those not from the Philippines, have you ever been to there? Tell a story or favorite memory from you visit! I was probably 7 years old when I visited my extended family in the province of Pangasinan, in Lingayen. Pros: Watched Darna on repeat Cons: Almost drowned in the monsoon. Great times. Told my parents "When are we getting off this wretched Island already!!! 😭" Describe a significant event in your life that shaped who you are today Seeing other Filipinos (-Canadian) my age underage drink and "sin" (lol) when I was still a goody two-shoes in high school. Didn't help that I had a crush on this one girl who I looked up to. I started drinking in college. What do you feel most grateful for your life? Being born into a family that is economically advantaged. I mean, look, we live in Massachusetts, I go to one of the best public university systems in the nation, and I'm not going to be up to my neck in loans when I graduate. That's more than most can say. Tell us about someone who has had a big influence in your life? Ghandi. Civil Disobedience. Pacifism. Anti-colonialism. What a guy. What traditions have been passed down your family? Eat with your hands. Don't leave the bathroom door open. Describe your immediate/household family. Mom, Dad, and brother who is a sophomore in high school. Is having a knowledge of family history important? Why or why not? Yes. Maybe you should know if you have a family history of trauma or diabetes so you can get diagnosed earlier in life to see if you need to change your lifestyle to prevent life-threatening situations or lasting damage to your mind and body. Maybe. What does it mean to be successful in your family? Be a lawyer or a doctor. Be rich. Have kids. Whoopee

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damienheads · 5 years

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Florida to Texas

A couple months ago me and a friend I’ve known since school decided to take a road trip across America. Unlike most Brits though, we wanted to try somewhere a little different, so instead of your typical destinations like New York, Las Vegas and California, we chose the deep south - Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas. So just like that, a month and a half after coming up with the idea, we were on our way to the good ole US of A.

Our first stop was Miami, a place we both really wanted to visit. One of the first things you notice about Miami when you get off the plane, is how much Spanish influence there is. Every sign has a Spanish translation underneath, and half the people you hear talking are speaking Spanish. Being Hispanophiles ourselves, we felt right at home. The city itself looked amazing, with beautiful Art Deco style buildings everywhere and a beach that stretched for miles.

We spent the first morning in Miami having a Cuban coffee at a local breakfast joint. From the outside the place looked like a dump, with horrible green looking photos advertising what food they had out the front. However, after closer inspection, we went inside and were pleasantly surprised to find something that looked like it was straight out of a Martin Scorsese film - old school wooden chairs, grainy photos on the wall, and fresh oranges stacked up high on top of a juicer. The coffee was some of the best we’ve both ever had - strong with a touch of sweetness, poured straight into thick, frothy milk. This may sound like a bit of a funny thing to get excited about, but once you try really great coffee, you really never want to go back.

After a day of sightseeing, we then jumped back in the car and headed down to the bottom of Key West, the most southerly point of the US. This part of America is stunning, with beaches everywhere and cool little bars, restaurants and places to visit. A highlight was having my first bowl of acai - a Brazilian dessert made up of berries, nuts, granola, and all sorts of other sweet things, as well as seeing the sun set at one of the few great national parks you can visit there. The remainder of our time spent in Florida, which I could go into great detail with if I didn’t stop myself, included airboating in the Everglades, exploring the Kennedy Space Center at Cape Canaveral, kayaking in the Ocala National Forest, and visiting both Panama city - a place devastated by a hurricane and taken over by bikers - and our last stop, Pensacola - an immaculate looking city with the most amazing beaches and a really cool looking downtown.

After a night of drinking and stepping into one of the blackest looking bars ever - a place that literally looked like it was out of American Gangster - we were back on the road. The first place we hit outside of Florida was a city called Mobile, in Alabama. Clearly built as a predominantly industrial city, this place you could tell had some serious industry, epitomised by the big shipyard you see when you first arrive in the city. Despite not being that attractive on the whole, the place had some really nice doses of Americana if you went down some of the smaller side streets and avenues, as we did. We decided to stop for a bite to eat at one of the many restaurants they had there - a typical American grill type place, as shown above, serving all sorts of southern style dishes. One of the main things you come across when you first eat this kind of food, is what they call ‘biscuit’, which is actually much more like a savoury British scone. Despite the food being pretty tasty, we decided to move on to our next destination.

After briefly passing through Mississippi - our third state in our trip across America - we ended up in New Orleans, Louisiana. Now this place had some serious style. Despite hearing many good things about New Orleans, I really didn’t know much of what to expect from it. You only really fully get the vibe of what is going on in that place when you first start stepping into the main part of the city - people dressing like they’re from the 70′s with bright colours everywhere, bustling streets with palm trees, and a tram system running straight through the middle of it all. The place is fully alive, like an open heart beating away. And the most exciting time to experience all of this is at night on the famous Bourbon street. Part of the French Quarter, Bourbon street has a long history, and is said to be one of the places that Jazz music really developed. After eating the city’s most famous dish, ‘red beans and rice’, we knocked back a few of the city’s most famous drink, the ironically named ‘Hurricane’ - a sweet cocktail made with rum, lemon juice, and passion fruit syrup. After a few of these we were well and truly buzzing. Hopping from bar to bar, and with live music everywhere, we had an amazing time. This was truly a great place to visit.

Our next stop on our tour across America was the big Lone Star State itself, Texas. Our first call was at the city of Houston. One of the first things you notice when arriving in Texas are the massive oil fields and industry which stretch from miles upon miles. This place has some serious industrial might and is said to have an economy $400 billion bigger than that of Russia ($1.7 trillion in total). The city of Houston reflects this massively, with endless amounts of tall buildings, and restaurants on every corner. The place is not the most beautiful up close, but there are some great little places you can go to. We spent our first night eating at a massive Mexican place called ‘Pappasito’s’ just on the edge of the city, and this place was teeming with life, and the food was great also. However, we had bigger plans in mind. The next day we loaded up the car and headed to where we really wanted to go - the shooting range.

Neither of us had ever shot a gun before, however we were both adamant that this is what we wanted to do; we were in Texas after all. Walking into the place for the first time was surreal; pistols, machine guns, rifles and shotguns, all laid up across the walls as if it were a section of Wallmart - this place was legit. After taking a brief lesson by one of the instructors on how to use a gun, we soon found ourselves on the range with an 8mm pistol. Shooting a gun for the first time is a real experience. It gives you a real adrenaline rush. We both managed a few good shots at a paper target, however, within five minutes or so, it was over. Coming back to the desk of the shooting range, we felt like we still had a little more left in us though, and so after a bit of persuading by both the instructors and ourselves, we decided to give the full automatic machine gun a little pop... Jesus christ... This thing was powerful. Firing a single shot was fine, but once you fully let load on this thing, you really feel the blowback. The shots were a little less clean on this one, however that really didn’t matter. After firing a few rounds on one of these, you truly do feel like a big man!

So we were in Texas, had just shot a pistol, and a machine gun; what was the next best thing we could do? - get a tattoo of course! Another first for me; I had never had a tattoo done in my life. After mooching down what seemed like the tattoo street of Houston, with about six different ones all lined up close to each other, we settled upon one run by a nice enough Filipino guy. After telling him what I wanted, and my budget, he not only offered to do it for a reasonable price, but to do the more complicated, original version also. This could have gone either of two ways - really bad or really well. After analysing him a little while, I decided that he was most likely one of these guys who liked the challenge of doing a really good tattoo and didn’t care too much about the money. How right was I. I ended up with something I was really happy with - a copy of the original Gadsden flag. This was something I associated with in a big way; a symbol of resistance from the original thirteen colonies of America when Britain tried to take away their rights and freedoms - such as what is happening currently with the British government trying to keep Britain locked into the anti-democratic EU.

Our last stop in Texas, and last of the trip, was at the city of Austin. I can honestly say that this was the best place I’ve ever visited in America. Like New Orleans, it was buzzing with energy, except in a totally different way - food vans everywhere, crazy looking shops and restaurants, people dressed like cowboys; this place was the real deal. After booking ourselves into the illustrious Red Roof Inn Plus, we decided to go further down town and visit ‘Barton Springs’. Despite the pool area being shut off, this place was beautiful; a river leading into a lake with great little trails on either side. People fishing, cycling, and even kayaking - this was a great little spot to use up some energy and spend some time with nature. One of the first things you notice about this place is how many turtles there are everywhere, either swimming around the river or lodged at the bottom of a tree somewhere. After a bit of swimming and sightseeing, we headed back to the ole Red Roof.

The next day we went right back near the same spot to a food van park. This place had the most amazing food, including Thai, Italian, Mexican, Venezuelan, as well as your traditional American grill and acai bowl place. We both decided on Thai and weren’t disappointed, as we both had the exact same dishes the very next day. We spent that night exploring Austin’s nightlife by going to it’s famous ‘Sixth street’. This place was buzzing in atmosphere, with all sorts of bars and nightclubs to go to. We spent the night playing a game called shuffleboard - a game in which you push a disc across a table as close to the edge as possible - as well as chasing after plenty of girls. Unfortunately, despite getting what we thought was pretty close, we weren’t so lucky - turns out getting four girls from Brooklyn back to your Red Roof Inn Plus ain’t so easy. The next couple days were rather more peaceful, spent chilling and checking out more of Austin’s interesting and vibrant culture before our eventual flight home. It was a great end to what was an amazing trip, and one that I will never forget. God bless you America, god bless you!

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 7 years

Note

What is your headcanon for what happened to Nora post-series? I know we don't really KNOW if she was a controller or not but I feel Marco would have figured it out if she was. He wouldn't even date a girl in 25 without making sure and he has no idea if his stepmother is one? Regardless of what he told Peter...Like I get what he did and why to put his family back together but damn do I wonder what happened to Nora after that. So cold.

[First of all: Nora is ALMOST CERTAINLY not a controller before Marco saves Peter, and Marco is an ice-cold mofo who should be ashamed of himself. Secondly: you have inspired a ficlet within my Eleutherophobia ‘verse; I hope you don’t mind.]

Tom gets the call about a week after Visser One’s trial ends, and raps out an automatic “Matter Over Mind, this is Tom, how can I help you?” with the receiver sandwiched between his shoulder and his ear.

“Hi,” the woman on the other end says. “I’m not… Not a member or anything, but…”

Tom waits patiently as she continues to mumble, not in the least because he can’t be certain that this isn’t more of Loren’s Mystery Shopper routine. She’ll sneak-attack him with the strangest requests imaginable to train him in how to respond, and he’s learned the hard way that any time Loren wants to disguise her voice, the lady can morph.

“I saw the footage of the trial on TV,” the woman says at last. “And… And I wanted to ask about Marco Alvarez.”

Tom nearly hangs up the phone right there, because he’s had to entertain more celebrity-seeking crap than he ever wants to think about in the weeks since Matter Over Mind started generating its own press, and he’s not in the mood for more.

The only thing that stops him is the faint slur in the way that she says “Marco,” under-prounouncing that “r” sound and one or two others. Ex-hosts display the whole range of speech impediments, from near-nonverbal communication to precise perfection. Eva and Tom both tend to fall into the same pattern of using correct inflection at the expense of tone; many other hosts have natural rhythms but imprecise consonants or other verbal tics. The only time Tom ever asked Steve about it over dinner, he spent the next thirty minutes nodding politely through Steve’s incomprehensible neurobabble while Jean made hmmming noises and Jake fell asleep at the table.

Whatever the cause, there’s no mistaking it. This isn’t Loren, and it’s not a random civilian either.

Tom gives her the scripted line—“I’m afraid we don’t have much contact with Mr. Alvarez as an organization, but the number of his agent is listed online”—but tries to do so as gently as possible.

“No, no, that’s all right,” the woman says. “I was just… I was hoping you’d be able to tell me how he’s doing. Whether he’s sleeping, getting enough to eat, whether he’s taking care of himself…”

And now Tom has circled right back around to wondering whether this lady is yet another Animorph-stalker, zombie or not. He glances across the office at Eva, who is currently muttering to herself in Spanish as she balances this month’s Matter Over Mind budget, and decides against asking her for help. “May I ask who’s calling?” he says carefully.

“I knew about the nightmares already. Marco’s, that is. The rest of it, the trauma, the panic attacks, I probably could have guessed. He was—he is—a good kid. He never liked me, but that never stopped him from making an effort to be polite, to welcome me…” She clears her throat, clearly gathering her thoughts. “And I knew that he was sad. That he was carrying a lot of weight, a lot of fear. Of course, I never knew why. Not until…”

Tom waits, but nothing else is coming. “Until they infested you?” he suggests. “Was that when you knew, Mrs. Robbinette?”

“Please, just Nora,” she says, apparently missing that she never gave him her name.

Of course, Tom’s no fool, and he had her for ninth-grade Algebra. Even if he didn’t recognize her voice at first, he can put two and two together.

“What would you like to know?” he asks. He’s hardly going to give away Marco’s address or personal number, but he’s also starting to suspect that her concern is genuine.

“I’m not looking to contact him,” Nora says hastily. “Or Peter. It’s… I moved to San Francisco, to get away from it all, and I don’t want to reopen old wounds, because I have a job here, and Antoine and I are…” She clears her throat.

While waiting for her to get her thoughts together, Tom glances up and gets a jolt. Eva is sitting with her own phone—which he can clearly see from the blinking green light is connected to the same call as his—resting lightly against her left ear. She’s giving him her patented I wasn’t born yesterday look, somewhere between incredulity and amusement.

“Um.” Tom scrambles for something to say to either one of them. “Um, Mrs.—Nora? Would you be willing to talk to E—to Mrs. Alvarez instead?”

“Would she be willing to talk to me?” Nora asks softly.

Tom glances up again. Eva’s expression has now slid fully into amusement.

“Yes,” he says. “Yes she would.”

“Then yes, I’d like that very much.”

Eva continues to stare pointedly at Tom until he takes a hint and hangs up his own line. She listens for a few minutes, says, “Of course I appreciate you taking care of them, what kind of possessive bruja do you take me for?” and then laughs at whatever response she gets.

Tom does his best to focus very, very hard on the graphic design for the fresh set of pamphlets that advertise Matter Over Mind’s brand-new paid counseling services.

“Well, he has yet to learn that simply because he can buy a working jetpack off the internet, that doesn’t mean he should buy a working jetpack off the internet,” Eva says. “I’ll spare you the description of the to-scale replica of the Millennium Falcon he’s got in his backyard, because by the end of it you’d have as many white hairs as I do.”

#asks #answers #anonymous #animorphs #animorphs ficlet #nora robbinette #tom berenson #eleutherophobia #long post #ficlet

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sheminecrafts · 5 years

Text

Pixel 4 review: Google ups its camera game

Google’s first-party hardware has always been a drop in the bucket of global smartphone sales. Pixel devices have managed to crack the top five in the U.S. and Western Europe, but otherwise represent less than 1% of the overall market. It’s true, of course, that the company got a late start, largely watching on the sidelines as companies like Samsung and Huawei shipped millions of Android devices.

Earlier this year, Google admitted that it was feeling the squeeze of slowing smartphone sales along with the rest of the industry. During Alphabet’s Q1 earnings call, CEO Sundar Pichai noted that poor hardware numbers were a reflection of “pressure in the premium smartphone industry.”

Introduced at I/O, the Pixel 3a was an attempt to augment disappointing sales numbers with the introduction of a budget-tier device. With a starting price of $399, the device seemingly went over as intended. The 3a, coupled with more carrier partners, helped effectively double year over year growth for the line. Given all of this, it seems like a pretty safe bet that the six-month Pixel/Pixela cycle will continue, going forward.

Of course, the addition of a mid-range device adds more onus for the company to differentiate the flagship. With a starting price of $799, the Pixel 4 certainly isn’t expensive by modern flagship standards. But Google certainly needs to present enough distinguishing features to justify a $400 price gulf between devices — especially as the company disclosed software upgrades introduced on flagship devices will soon make their way onto their cheaper counterparts.

Google’s budget Pixel 3a starts at $399, available in ‘purple-ish’

Indeed, the much-rumored and oft-leaked devices bring some key changes to the line. The company has finally given in and added a dual-camera setup to both premium models, along with an upgraded 90Hz display, face unlock, radar-based gestures and a whole bunch of additional software features.

The truth is that the Pixel has always occupied a strange place in the smartphone world. As the successor to Google’s Nexus partnerships, the product can be regarded as a showcase for Android’s most compelling features. But gone are the days of leading the pack with the latest version of the operating system. The fact that OnePlus devices already have Android 10 means Google’s going head to head against another reasonably price manufacturer of quality handsets.

The Pixel line steps up a bit on the design side to distinguish the product from the “a” line. Google’s phones have never been as flashy as Samsung’s or Apple’s, and that’s still the case here, but a new dual-sided glass design (Gorilla Glass 5 on both), coupled with a metal band, does step up the premium feel a bit. The product is also a bit heavier and thicker than the 3, lending some heft to the device.

There are three colors now: black, white and a poppy “Oh So Orange,” which is available in limited quantities here in the U.S. The color power button continues to be a nice touch, lending a little character to the staid black and white devices. While the screen gets a nice update to 90Hz OLED, Google still has no interest in the world of notches or hole punches. Rather, it’s keeping pretty sizable bezels on the top and bottom.

Google Pixel 3 XL review

The Pixel 4 gets a bit of a screen size boost from 5.5 to 5.7 inches, with an increase of a single pixel per inch, while the Pixel 4 XL stays put at 6.4 inches (with a PPI increase of 522 to 537). The dual front-facing camera has been ditched this time out, instead opting for the single eight megapixel, similar to what you’ll find on the 3a.

Storage hasn’t changed, with both 64 and 128GB options for both models; RAM has been bumped up to a default 6GB from 4GB last time out. The processor, too, is the latest and greatest from Qualcomm, bumping from a Snapdragon 845 to an 855. Interestingly, however, the batteries have actually been downgraded.

The 4 and 4 XL sport a 2,800 and 3,700mAh, respectively. That should be augmented a bit by new battery-saving features introduced in Android 10, but even still, that’s not the direction you want to see these things going.

The camera is, in a word, great. Truth be told, I’ve been using it to shoot photos for the site since I got the phone last week. This Google Nest Mini review, Amazon Echo review and Virgin Galactic space suit news were all shot on the Pixel 4. The phone isn’t yet a “leave your DSLR at home” proposition, of course, but damn if it can’t take a fantastic photo in less than ideal and mixed light with minimal futzing around.

There’s no doubt that this represents a small but important shift in philosophy for Google. After multiple generations of suggesting that software solutions could do more than enough heavy lifting on image processing, the company’s finally bit the bullet and embraced a second camera. Sometimes forward progress means abandoning past stances. Remember when the company dug its heels in on keeping the headphone jack, only to drop it the following year?

The addition of a second camera isn’t subtle, either. In fact, it’s hard to miss. Google’s adopted a familiar square configuration on the rear of the device. That’s just how phones look now, I suppose. Honestly, it’s fine once you conquer a bit of trypophobia, with a pair of lenses aligned horizontally and a sensor up top and flash on bottom — as one of last week’s presenters half joked, “we hope you’ll use it as a flash light.”

That, of course, is a reference to the Pixel’s stellar low-light capabilities. It’s been a welcome feature, in an age where most smartphone users continue to overuse their flashes, completely throwing off the photo in the process. Perhaps the continued improvements will finally break that impulse in people — though I’m not really getting my hopes up on that front. Old habits, etc.

The 4 and 4 XL have the same camera set up, adopting the 12.2-megapixel (wide angle) lens from their predecessors and adding a 16-megapixel (telephoto) into the mix. I noted some excitement about the setup in my write-up. That’s not because the two-camera setup presents anything remarkable — certainly not in this area of three, four and five-camera flagships. It’s more about the groundwork that Google has laid out in the generations leading up to this device.

Essentially it comes down to this: Look at what the company has been able to accomplish using software and machine learning with a single camera setup. Now add a second telephoto camera into the mix. See, Super High Res Zoom is pretty impressive, all told. But if you really want a tighter shot without degrading the image in the process, optical zoom is still very much the way to go.

There’s a strong case to be made that the Pixel 4’s camera is the best in class. The pictures speak for themselves. The aforementioned TechCrunch shots were done with little or no manual adjustments or post-processing. Google offers on-screen adjustments, like the new dual-exposure control, which lets you manually adjust brightness and shadow brightness on the fly. Honestly, though, I find the best way to test these cameras is to use them the way most buyers will: by pointing and shooting.

[gallery ids="1900084,1900086,1900087,1900088,1900090,1900091,1900092"]

The fact is that a majority of people who buy these handsets won’t be doing much fiddling with the settings. As such, it’s very much on handset makers to ensure that users get the best photograph by default, regardless of conditions. Once again, software is doing much of the heavy lifting. Super Res Zoom works well in tandem with the new lens, while Live HDR+ does a better job approximating how the image will ultimately look once fully processed. Portrait mode shots look great, and the device is capable of capturing them at variable depths, meaning you don’t have to stand a specific distance from the subject to take advantage of the well-done artificial bokeh.

Our video producer, Veanne, who is admittedly a far better photographer than I can ever hope to be, tested out the camera for the weekend.

[gallery ids="1900045,1900046,1900047,1900048,1900049,1900050,1900051,1900052"]

Although Veanne was mostly impressed by the Pixel 4’s camera and photo editing capabilities, here are three major gripes.

“Digital zoom is garbage.”

“In low lighting situations, you lose ambiance. Saturday evening’s intimate, warmly lit dinner looked like a cafeteria meal.”

“Bright images in low lighting gives you the impression that the moving objects would be in focus as well. That is not the case.”

Other additions round out the experience, including “Frequent Faces,” which learns the faces of subjects you frequently photograph. Once again, the company is quick to point out that the feature is both off by default and all of the processing happens on the device. Turning it off also deletes all of the saved information. Social features have been improved, as well, with quick access to third-party platforms like Snapchat and Instagram.

Google keeps pushing out improvements to Lens, as well. This time out, language translation, document scanning and text copy and pasting can be performed with a quick tap. Currently the language translation is still a bit limited, with only support for English, Spanish, German, Hindi and Japanese. More will be “rolling out soon,” per the company.

Gestures is a strange one. I’m far from the first to note that Google is far from the first to attempt the feature. The LG G8 ThinQ is probably the most recent prominent example of a company attempting to use gestures as a way to differentiate themselves. To date, I’ve not seen a good implementation of the technology — certainly not one I could ever see myself actually using day to day.

The truth is, no matter how interesting or innovative a feature is, people aren’t going to adopt it if it doesn’t work as advertised. LG’s implementation was a pretty big disappointment.

Simply put, the Pixel’s gestures are not that. They’re better in that, well, they work, pretty much as advertised. This is because the underlying technology is different. Rather than relying on cameras like other systems, the handset uses Project Soli, a long-promised system that utilizes a miniature radar chip to detect far more precise movement.

Soli does, indeed work, but the precision is going to vary a good deal from user to user. The thing is, simply detecting movement isn’t enough. Soli also needs to distinguish intention. That means the system is designed to weed out accidental gestures of the manner we’re likely making all the time around our phones. That means the system appears to be calibrated to bigger, intentional movements.

That can be a little annoying for things like advancing tracks. I don’t think there are all that many instances where waving one’s hands across a device Obi-Wan Kenobi-style is really saving all that much time or effort versus touching a screen. If, however, Google was able to customize the experience to the individual over time using machine learning, it could be a legitimately handy feature.

That brings us to the next important point: functionality. So you’ve got this neat new piece of tiny radar that you’re sticking inside your phone. You say it’s low energy and more private than a camera. Awesome! So, how do you suggest I, you know, use it?

There are three key ways, at the moment:

Music playback

Alarm Silencing

Waving at Pokémon

The first two are reasonably useful. The primary use case I can think of are when, say, your phone is sitting in front of you at your desk. Like mine is, with me, right now. Swiping my hand left to right a few inches above the device advances the track. Right to left goes a track back. The movements need to be deliberate, from one end of the device to the other.

And then there’s the phenomenon of “Pokémon Wave Hello.” It’s not really correct to call the title a game, exactly. It’s little more than a way of showcasing Motion Sense — albeit an extremely delightful way.

You might have caught a glimpse of it at the keynote the other day. It came and went pretty quickly. Suddenly Pikachu was waving at the audience, appearing out of nowhere like so many wild Snorlaxes. Just as quickly, he was gone.

[gallery ids="1900104,1900106,1900107,1900108,1900109,1900110,1900111,1900112,1900113,1900114,1900115,1900116,1900117"]

More than anything, it’s a showcase title for the technology. A series of five Pokémon, beginning with Pikachu, appear demanding you interact with them through a series of waves. It’s simple, it’s silly and you’ll finish the whole thing in about three minutes. That’s not really the point, though. Pokémon Wave Hello exists to:

Get you used to gestures.

Demonstrate functionality beyond simple features. Gaming, AR — down the road, these things could ultimately find fun and innovative ways to integrate Soli.

For now, however, use is extremely limited. There are some fun little bits, including dynamic wallpaper that reacts to movement. The screen also glows subtly when detecting you — a nice little touch (there’s a similar effect for Assistant, as well).

Perhaps most practical, however, is the fact that the phone can detect when you’re reaching for it and begin the unlocking process. That makes the already fast new Face Unlock feature ever faster. Google ditched the fingerprint reader this time around, opting for neither a physical sensor nor in-screen reader. Probably for the best on the latter front, given the pretty glaring security woes Samsung experienced last week when a British woman accidentally spoofed the reader with a $3 screen protector. Yeeesh.

There are some nice security precautions on here. Chief among them is the fact that the unlock is done entirely on-device. All of the info is saved and processed on the phone’s Titan M chip, meaning it doesn’t get sent up to the cloud. That both makes it a speedier process and means Google won’t be sharing your face data with its other services — a fact Google felt necessary to point out, for obvious reasons.

For a select few of us, at least, Recorder feels like a legitimate game changer. And its ease of use and efficacy should be leaving startups like Otter.ai quaking at its potential, especially if/when Google opts to bring it to other Android handsets and iOS.

I was initially unimpressed by the app upon trying it out at last week’s launch event. It struggles to isolate audio in noisy environments — likely as much of a hardware as software constraint. One on one and it’s far better, though attempting to, say, record audio from a computer can still use some work.

Open the app and hit record and you’ll see a waveform pop up. The line is blue when detecting speech and gray when hearing other sounds. Tap the Transcript button and you’ll see the speech populate the page in real time. From there you can save it with a title and tag the location.

The app will automatically tag keywords and make everything else searchable for easy access. In its first version, it already completely blows Apple’s Voice Memos out of the water. There’s no comparison, really. It’s in a different league. Ditto for other apps I’ve used over the years, like Voice Record.

Speaking to the product, the recording was still a little hit or miss. It’s not perfect — no AI I’ve encountered is. But it’s pretty good. I’d certainly recommend going back over the text before doing anything with it. Like Otter and other voice apps, you can play back the audio as it highlights words, karaoke-style.

The text can be saved to Google Drive, but can’t be edited in app yet. Audio can be exported, but not as a combined file. The punctuation leaves something to be desired and Recorder is not yet able to distinguish individual voices. These are all things a number of standalone services offer, along with a web-based platform. That means that none of them are out of business yet, but if I was running any of them, I’d be pretty nervous right about now.

As someone who does interviews for a living, however, I’m pretty excited by the potential here. I can definitely see Recorder become one of my most used work apps, especially after some of the aforementioned kinks get ironed out in the next version. As for those who don’t do this for a living, usefulness is probably a bit limited, though there are plenty of other potential uses, like school lecturers.

The Pixel continues to distinguish itself through software updates and camera features. There are nice additions throughout that set it apart from the six-month-old 3a, as well, including a more premium design and new 90Hz display. At $799, the price is definitely a vast improvement over competitors like Samsung and Apple, while retaining flagship specs.

The Pixel 4 doesn’t exactly address what Google wants the Pixel to be, going forward. The Pixel 3a was confirmation that users were looking for a far cheaper barrier of entry. The Pixel 4, on the other hand, is priced above OnePlus’s excellent devices. Nor is the product truly premium from a design perspective.

It’s unclear what the future will look like as Google works to address the shifting smartphone landscape. In the meantime, however, the future looks bright for camera imaging, and Google remains a driving force on that front.

from iraidajzsmmwtv https://ift.tt/2P6eIa3 via IFTTT

#IFTTT #iraidajzsmmwtv

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nayanasri · 5 years

Text

Introduced at I/O, the Pixel 3a was an attempt to augment disappointing sales numbers with the introduction of a budget-tier device. With a starting price of $ 399, the device seemingly went over as intended. The 3a, coupled with more carrier partners, helped effectively double year over year growth for the line. Given all of this, it seems like a pretty safe bet that the six-month Pixel/Pixela cycle will continue, going forward.

Of course, the addition of a mid-range device adds more onus for the company to differentiate the flagship. With a starting price of $ 799, the Pixel 4 certainly isn’t expensive by modern flagship standards. But Google certainly needs to present enough distinguishing features to justify a $ 400 price gulf between devices — especially as the company disclosed software upgrades introduced on flagship devices will soon make their way onto their cheaper counterparts.

Google’s budget Pixel 3a starts at $ 399, available in ‘purple-ish’

Google Pixel 3 XL review

Our video producer, Veanne, who is admittedly a far better photographer than I can ever hope to be, tested out the camera for the weekend.

Although Veanne was mostly impressed by the Pixel 4’s camera and photo editing capabilities, here are three major gripes.

“Digital zoom is garbage.”

“In low lighting situations, you lose ambiance. Saturday evening’s intimate, warmly lit dinner looked like a cafeteria meal.”

“Bright images in low lighting gives you the impression that the moving objects would be in focus as well. That is not the case.”

The truth is, no matter how interesting or innovative a feature is, people aren’t going to adopt it if it doesn’t work as advertised. LG’s implementation was a pretty big disappointment.

There are three key ways, at the moment:

Music playback

Alarm Silencing

Waving at Pokémon

Get you used to gestures.

Demonstrate functionality beyond simple features. Gaming, AR — down the road, these things could ultimately find fun and innovative ways to integrate Soli.

The Pixel continues to distinguish itself through software updates and camera features. There are nice additions throughout that set it apart from the six-month-old 3a, as well, including a more premium design and new 90Hz display. At $ 799, the price is definitely a vast improvement over competitors like Samsung and Apple, while retaining flagship specs.

Android – TechCrunch

Pixel 4 review: Google ups its camera game Google’s first-party hardware has always been a drop in the bucket of global smartphone sales. Pixel devices have managed to crack the top five in the U.S.

#Camera #Game #Google #Pixel #Review

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dizzedcom · 5 years

Text

Google’s budget Pixel 3a starts at $399, available in ‘purple-ish’

Google Pixel 3 XL review

p class=”p1″>The Pixel 4 gets a bit of a screen size boost from 5.5 to 5.7 inches, with an increase of a single pixel per inch, while the Pixel 4 XL stays put at 6.4 inches (with a PPI increase of 522 to 537). The dual front-facing camera has been ditched this time out, instead opting for the single eight megapixel, similar to what you’ll find on the 3a.

Our video producer, Veanne, who is admittedly a far better photographer than I can ever hope to be, tested out the camera for the weekend.

Although Veanne was mostly impressed by the Pixel 4’s camera and photo editing capabilities, here are three major gripes.

“Digital zoom is garbage.”

“In low lighting situations, you lose ambiance. Saturday evening’s intimate, warmly lit dinner looked like a cafeteria meal.”

“Bright images in low lighting gives you the impression that the moving objects would be in focus as well. That is not the case.”

The truth is, no matter how interesting or innovative a feature is, people aren’t going to adopt it if it doesn’t work as advertised. LG’s implementation was a pretty big disappointment.

There are three key ways, at the moment:

Music playback

Alarm Silencing

Waving at Pokémon

Get you used to gestures.

Demonstrate functionality beyond simple features. Gaming, AR — down the road, these things could ultimately find fun and innovative ways to integrate Soli.

0 notes

cyberblogin · 5 years

Text

Our video producer, Veanne, who is admittedly a far better photographer than I can ever hope to be, tested out the camera for the weekend.

Although Veanne was mostly impressed by the Pixel 4’s camera and photo editing capabilities, here are three major gripes.

“Digital zoom is garbage.”

“In low lighting situations, you lose ambiance. Saturday evening’s intimate, warmly lit dinner looked like a cafeteria meal.”

“Bright images in low lighting gives you the impression that the moving objects would be in focus as well. That is not the case.”

The truth is, no matter how interesting or innovative a feature is, people aren’t going to adopt it if it doesn’t work as advertised. LG’s implementation was a pretty big disappointment.

There are three key ways, at the moment:

Music playback

Alarm Silencing

Waving at Pokémon

Get you used to gestures.

Demonstrate functionality beyond simple features. Gaming, AR — down the road, these things could ultimately find fun and innovative ways to integrate Soli.

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