water angle

2

“I shouldn’t have been surprised. Not when Rhysand liked to make a spectacle of everything. And found pissing off Tamlin to be an art form.
But there he was.
Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, now stood beside me, darkness leaking from him like ink in water.
He angled his head, his blue-black hair shifting with the movement. Those violet eyes sparkled in the golden faelight as they fixed on Tamlin, as he held up a hand to where Tamlin and Lucien and their sentries had their swords half-drawn, sizing up how to get me out of the way, how to bring him down—
But at the lift of that hand, they froze.
Ianthe, however, was backing away slowly, face drained of color.
“What a pretty little wedding,” Rhysand said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as those many swords remained in their sheaths. The remaining crowd was pressing back, some climbing over seats to get away.”

So being the Food Network addict that I am, I occasionally find myself watching Trisha Yearwood. And right now, the episode I’m watching features her going and getting a skating lesson from the Hockey Team.

So obviously, my brain goes “ZIMBITS AU”, which is only further resolved after Trisha says the following things:

- As you can imagine, growing up in Georgia, I didn’t skate a lot

- (to her friend who’s doing this misadventure with her) I think, as long as we look cute, it doesn’t really matter how good we are

So Bitty has a Food Network show with a vague “southern cooking in new england” theme, and the producers really like to play up the Georgian Fish out of Water angle with the not-actually-cooking segments of the show. So Bitty’s scheduled to do a private skating lesson with Marty and Tater, because the combo of warm and friendly but understated mentor Marty and loud gregarious and enthusiastic rookie (to the NHL - he has a few years in the Russian pros under his belt) Tater will make great television.

So Bitty is making both of them their own thank-you food. Bitty has fun experimenting with Russian pastries for Tater, and of course finds a way to incorporate maple into his apple pie for Marty.

The producers are expecting a lot of hilarious and endeering wobbling on the ice. And they get a lot of great footage of Bitty reacting to wearing hockey gear for the first time “I look like a big blue marshmallow, y'all”, but nobody remembers until Bitty’s on the ice that he was a Junior Regionals Figure Skating Champion.

He glides effortlessly onto the ice, has some fun learning how to handle a hockey stick (cue some ridiculous and just the right amount of off color for basic cable jokes about stick handling)

And of course, Jack Zimmermann, who works harder than god but kind of sucks at acting like a human being in front of cameras, is at the rink to get in some extra practice, and Tater is like “Zimboni! You come and race the tiny baker man!”

And Marty winks at Bitty, who gets the message and starts wobbling and skating like he’s never seen ice in his LIFE, and Jack looks warily at the cameras, but George has been on him to do more public relations stuff and he may as well make a “race” against this tv person part of his warmup.

And Bitty’s all “now, I ain’t no professional skater, Mr. Zimmermann, so you’d better go easy on me!” And then proceeds to SMOKE Jack the second Marty calls GO.

Marty and Tater are doubled over laughing, and the camera guy is circling Jack to get all angles of his utterly dumbfounded expression.

Bitty’s smirking, with his hands on his hips, then says, “do y'all think I could pull off a salchow in all this gear?” And proceeds to pull off a jump in hockey skates and all the gear. Tater, of course insists that Bitty teach him and the footage they get from it is pure gold.

So anyway. After they get off the ice, Bitty cuts up his maple apple pie and Jack decides he might actually be in love.

flickr

Rowayton, Connecticut, USA

An F-22 Raptor pulling so many Gs, the low pressure air over the fuselage gets cold enough for the water to condense. The angle is just right for sunlight to make rainbow colors around the airplane.

flickr

Rapunzel’s Castle by Dirk Dallas
Via Flickr:

PhannieMay16: Water

look me in the eyes and tell me Danny wouldn’t be on the swim team

He didn’t know that swimming is so much like flying. Gravity didn’t exist in the water as much as it did on the land. You could do flips and sink to the bottom or float to the top without even thinking about it.

The only problem is air. Humans need oxygen to survive, which is quite annoying at times. It’s something that Danny could definitely get along fine without, but his swimming coaches tended to try to rescue him if he stayed under for more than five minutes.

He swore he just had good lungs.

His teammates were nice, too. They wouldn’t replace Tucker or Sam in a million years, but at least they weren’t jealous of him or tried to shove him in a locker.

But actually swimming? It was like flying in a human body. The way how Danny cut through the water, his body angled so he’ll get less resistance and go much  faster then should be possible at his age was amazing.

He never tried used his ghost powers in the water (Although he may have used his intangibility on some turns because he can’t control his instincts)

His coaches were scared of him. Danny didn’t realize it, but they stopped trying to save him the third time around he hung out longer than five minutes underwater.

Because whenever he’s under there his eyes glow a bright, unnatural green.

Danny Fenton was definitely not a normal student, and if he should drown the coaches would be relieved.

milevenge  asked:

NUMBER 11! WITH A SHUDDERING GASP

1987

Rain trickles down her back; her shirt is soaked and heavy, her thin wind breaker useless with the angle the water falls. Her jaw trembles and her breath is white. She almost can’t inhale; it’s as though her lungs are being ripped to shreds.

In the grasp of her numb hands are the handlebars of her bike. The metal is freezing to the touch; so cold it’s almost hot.

Her nose is bleeding and she is crying. The tears that roll down her cheeks seem to sear her skin. She walks along the roadside, close to the forest, head down and eyes on the soggy mulch below.

Her shoes are ruined. Hop will be disappointed. Maybe even mad.

El tries not to think of that. She raises her gaze to the horizon, catching the road sign for Maple (she is meant to stay at Joyce’s tonight because Hop is working graveyard). She feels a little bit of hope at this; she’s almost home. Everything will be better soon.

“El, wait!”

At his voice she has almost no choice but to turn. He does that to her. Makes her lose her will. Makes her fall and catches her each time.

He’s skidding on his bike, desperately fighting for control. El takes mercy on him by halting the wheels. Mike takes a moment to collect himself, panting with exertion, and then dismounts.

“Why did you run away?” He asks of her, once he’s close enough for her to hear without yelling (this is, she notices suddenly, very close).

“I just… I just thought…” her voice breaks off and that’s when she realises she wasn’t thinking at all. Now everything comes flooding over her (she remembers Troy, she remembers his laugh; she remembers the crack of his bones), and she feels like she might break.

Weakly, but desperately, she falls into his arms. Of course he catches her. He always does.

“El,” he whispers. “Jesus, you’re freezing.”

Her lip trembles and she begins to sob. Mike holds her tighter than she’s ever been held. Her heart races, and her mind goes blank. With a shuddering gasp, she tells him what’s been on her mind for a while now. “I love you.

Mike doesn’t speak. Briefly, her heart breaks. She feels within her shards of a lost cause slicing open her heart and tearing apart her soul, but then he moves his hand to her hair and pulls away (and she is paralysed).

He’s smiling. Raindrops roll off of his eyelashes like stars. “I love you, too.”