almost done with the re watch

alabasterswriting  asked:

I just saw you were having a bad day! I’m so sorry it’s not going well, but just know that you can power through anything thrown at you! You’re so incredible and so strong! Sending you lots of warm hugs! 💜💜🤗🤗

Thank you for your words of encouragement, Nicole. They honestly mean so much to me and are helping push me forward through this work. I’m almost done now and I’ll be making myself a hot chocolate and watching a scary movie. Love you 💜 

I’m re-watching GF right now, and I saw a parallel between this scene from “The Headhunters”:

And this scene from the finale:

Both are crying over Stan who is “dead”, or more precisely, lost his “head” aka memories. T_T

Hayden Christensen’s performance as Anakin Skywalker is underrated

This post is something that I’ve been thinking about for a long time, and something that I finally need to get around to sharing with other people. I should have done this immediately after re-watching the first three episodes with Nannette while things were still fresh, but instead, I’m doing it almost a year later. I don’t remember exactly all the details or specific examples, but I’ll try my best. Maybe I’ll come back and edit this after I watch them again. Anyway…

Hayden Christensen did an incredible job with Anakin Skywalker. Before you stop reading because there’s no possible way I could be right, hear me out; maybe I’ll change the way you see his acting performance in Star Wars: Episodes II and III.

The biggest complaint I hear about Christensen’s performance as Anakin Skywalker is that he is stiff, delivering his lines awkwardly and playing his role mostly devoid of emotion. It just doesn’t seem good enough or realistic. I think that this could have been a deliberate choice by Christensen because of who Anakin is and because of what life and circumstance has shaped Anakin into being.

Anakin is an incredibly emotional character. He thinks with his heart instead of logic, often following through on impulsive actions brought on by those emotions. Anakin’s intense feelings are prevalent in many scenes: he is worried about and seeks power to protect his mom and Padme, he murders an entire Tusken village after learning about the death of Shmi, he is angered and upset that the council won’t make him a Jedi master, and pretty much any other scene involving Padme, like when Padme falls out of the gunship in Episode II and Anakin almost risks expulsion from the Jedi Council by going after her instead of working to end the war. This emotion is heavily contrasted by Obi-wan’s desire to adhere to their duty and think logically.

In fact, it’s this emotional driving force Anakin possesses that makes most of the Jedi Council worried about him. Anakin is out of place among the Jedi. The literal first line of the Jedi code is: “There is no emotion, there is peace.” This is where Christensen’s acting comes into play. Anakin is uncomfortable under this restriction, and that’s why he seems so robotic at times. Anakin is an incredibly emotional person under serious pressure by everyone in his life (except Padme) to stop being emotional. His humor even evolves into the monotone, deadpan sarcasm that is seen with Obi-wan. He’s working so hard at suppressing his emotions that he’s forcibly correcting his speech tones and gestures. This is incredibly in character and a wonderful performance given by Christensen.

The stiffness and awkwardness with which Christensen delivers some lines and acts some scenes is no mistake. It’s deliberate, and it’s incredibly well done. This is obvious when contrasted with Anakin’s emotional scenes where Christensen acts with passion. It’s even further evidenced as Anakin stops his efforts to smother his emotions and becomes Darth Vader. From his appointment to Lord Vader until his famous duel with Obi-wan he is free from the constraints on his emotions. We see a harrowed man who hasn’t quite realized the extent of his actions wipe out the younglings. We see a caring, concerned and loving man check on Padme to make sure she’s safe and that she isn’t aware of what he has done to protect her. We see an angry man confront his brother and teacher in a blinding rage. We see the emotion that he’s been hiding the rest of the time.

Christensen’s performance is resonating and undeniably impactful during the final moments leading up to the conclusion of Episode III. It doesn’t make any sense that that same conviction and heart wouldn’t appear throughout all of Episode II and III unless there was a reason that Anakin would be forcing himself to hide it. The Jedi Order itself was that reason, and the stiffness and awkwardness that is Anakin (barring the emotional scenes where his feelings come out) has some deep meaning to it. Next time you want to drag Christensen for his performance, take a moment to think why the character would be portrayed that way. Christensen did a wonderful, incredibly underrated job with his role as Anakin Skywalker.

TL;DR: Anakin is an incredibly emotional character forced into hiding and suppressing those emotions by the Jedi Order and Code. This is why Hayden Christensen’s performance may seem stiff and awkward at times. The awkwardness is purposeful and his performance is incredibly underrated.

Disclaimer: Anakin is my favorite character in the Star Wars universe, so this may just be me grasping at straws trying to justify what people say is a subpar performance from Hayden Christensen. However, I feel like I’ve given this analysis objective treatment and truly believe that he deserves more praise for what I consider to be an incredible job portraying such an interesting and deep character.

by your side.

1, 8, & 42. “That’s starting to get annoying” “You’re seriously like a man-child” “Stop being so cute”

requested by @onedirection-hnll

Sorry, this took a minute to get done. I was trying to work out a scenario for this and it finally came to me while watching one of my favorite films! Enjoy.

“Are you serious?” the prickling sound of judgment in your boyfriend’s voice, inflicted embarrassment in you. The lump in your throat was tight, almost like you couldn’t breathe from the tone of his voice. The situation wasn’t that serious to him, but it was to you. He never understood your fears, and always brushed them off as you being stupid and worried. Public transportation was something you absolutely dreaded. Trains, buses, trolleys, planes, and even elevators weren’t things you were comfortable with. You’d rather take the stairs and avoid as many people of situations as you could then use public transportation.

“You’re so fucking scared of everything. I can’t take you anywhere without you ruining it with your stupid fear” his words were like a punch in the gut. You felt like a burden to him and everyone around you.

But things were different now.

“I’m sorry you ever had to deal with a person like that” Harry said, referring to your ex-boyfriend. Memories of that time in your life was always in the back of your mind. You were dumbfounded that you let someone like that into your life and let them belittle you. Then again you were the type to take constructive criticism to broadly. You let constructive part turn into pure judgment, and you never defend yourself. It was something that you’ve been trying to throw into the past for a year now. When you met Harry, you were afraid he’d be the same way. His job required him to go to a lot of public places at times, and as his girlfriend, he would often times ask you to go with him.

The first time you explained to him your fears, he was understanding of all of them. He didn’t push you to do anything, and he assured you that he’s always gonna be there for you. In denial was basically your best friend, when people told you they would be there for you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust them, it was just the lack of promises.

Harry just finished his first leg of the tour and wanted you to come back home with him for a week to meet his family and friends. You’ve never been out of the country, and you sure as hell haven’t been on a plane since you were really little. You prepared yourself in secret, looking up ways to stay calm, and how to prevent yourself from panicking. The immense feeling of not wanting to look embarrassing, worried you even more. Little did you know, Harry noticed this, and it broke his heart. “My love, what’s going on?” he cooed, watching you look at the computer screen at the astounding search results of remedies. You didn’t even make eye contact with him, your goal to find something, growing.

“This says if I take some Benedryl before the flight, I can sleep through it,” you said, scrolling down the page.

“Baby-” he started, but you cut him off.

“..Or I could do this” you pointed to many things on the screen, before Harry shut the laptop. He turned the chair towards himself, admiring your beautiful face. It was just a moment of silence, Harry trying to figure out what to say.

“Look at me,” he said, placing his finger under your chin to give him your attention. Your eyes locked with his, the sadness showing through him. “I’m gonna be with you throughout this whole trip alright? I’m never going to leave your side, and we’re gonna get through this together yeah?” he spoke slow, his thumbs tracing over your hands as she did. You felt stupid for worrying so much, that you were constantly wasting your time worrying. But Harry didn’t blame you. No one ever let you be okay with your fears, they always yelled at you for them.

Your stomach turned the whole way to the airport, and when you finally sat in first class with Harry it subsided. His hands intertwined with yours the whole time, occasionally kissing yours when you became nervous. I can’t do this, you thought. But it wasn’t like you could get off, even though you desperately wanted to unbuckle and run off the plane. Stress ran through your veins, the pit feeling of nervousness boiling in you. Harry panicked to himself when he saw how distressed you were, not knowing what to do at the moment. He remembered from first dates and impromptu talks in bed that you HATED when people did this one thing. Recited monologues. The strangest pet peeve he’s ever heard. You didn’t mind movies, in fact, you loved them, but you couldn’t stand when people would talk over them when they knew every word. You hated when people would recite opening monologues like it was something different. It never contributed to the conversation, and it just annoyed you.

Harry decided it was time to distract you, in the sense that you were seconds away from bursting into tears. Past girlfriends of his came and gone, but one that he always remembered was one that was a film major. She always made him watch films with her, classic, modern, and even foreign. He never caught on with most of them, besides one that they both watched constantly. He remembered the opening dialogue like the back of his hand. Why? He had no idea.

“They bought it! Incredible! One of the worst performances of my career and they never doubted it for a second. How could I possibly be expected to handle school on a day like this? This is my ninth sick day this semester” Harry began, adding charisma to the character of his voice. You stopped for a second, looking at him, eyebrows furrowed together. He couldn’t be doing this. “It’s getting pretty tough coming up with new illnesses. If I go for ten, I’m probably gonna have to cough up a lung, so I better make this one count” he continued.

“That’s starting to get annoying,” you said to him, as he smirked.

“The key to faking out the parents is the clammy hands. It’s a good non-specific symptom. I’m a big believer in it. A lot of people will tell you that a good phony fever is a deadlock, but, uh, you get a nervous mother, and you could end up in the doctor’s office” He kept going, the look on your face making him want to bust out laughing.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.You’re seriously like a man-child!” you whisper-yelled, even though there was only a couple of people in first class. They looked in your direction as Harry tried to continue his awful rendition of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. His attempt to make you distracted was working, and before you knew it, the plane was already in the air. It was the first time in a long time where you didn’t have so much uneasiness built up in you. The weight that’s been choking you for so long, was slowly beginning to lift off.

“See, I told you it wouldn’t be that bad” he smirked, knowing his method of weird reenactments worked. You couldn’t believe this man, this man that you were so helplessly in love with. Grateful is an understatement when you thought about him. He accepted you for who you were, and he thought you were absolutely perfect. To him, there was nothing that could make him not love you, especially a little fear like this.

“Don’t know what I’d do without you” you smiled, squeezing his hand as you laid your head on his shoulder. Harry kissed the top of your head, lingering there for a moment. You eased into his gesture, your heart fluttering because of his gentleness towards you.

“Maybe next time I’ll do my version of Saturday Night Fever” he giggled, causing you to playfully roll your eyes. “The Bee Gees are good plane entertainment” he chuckled.

Stop being so cute,” you said, hiding your laughs into the sleeve of his shirt.


Originally posted by danielsoftgf

Best friends to Lovers!Kang Daniel AU

Note: for the times where you experienced 썸 (some) with your good/best friend and wished that when you do convey your feelings it would somewhat end up this way

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Hey, how’s it going?
Hey, I’m getting there, just need to make some frosting. Hungry, aren’t you?
Mmm-hmm, it smells so good that I can’t focus on my writing.
Your writing?
Nothing special. Just a little side job for a sales web-site.
Why won’t you put it off, Jules? We’re on a vacation after all.
Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s almost done anyway… Do you need my help with anything?
No, I’m good. I’d rather you just sit here and make me a company. Could you do that?
Yep. That’s perferctly fine with me. You know, I think I could watch you doing your kitchen magic forever. I wish I had your skills!  
It’s practice. Lots of practice… Hey, you know what, come over here.


Overworked//Park Jinyoung

Originally posted by park9495

Pairing: Jinyoung x Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: It had been a while since you had been with your boyfriend, so you had decided to pay him a visit at his work.

Author’s note: A spur of inspiration hit me in the middle of the night! i hope you enjoy!

xoxo Sara

“Jinyoung,” you whined into the phone, rubbing your eyes as you sat alone on your couch in what was supposed to be your ‘shared apartment’, “I miss you. When are you coming home?”

It had felt like days since you had seen your boyfriend. He was working a lot for his next comeback; composing songs, practicing dances, coming up with outfits to wear on stage, all while having to find time to MC live events on television. Your boyfriend has barely been out of his studio for more than five or so hours a day, which he usually spends sleeping or eating if he isn’t hosting one of the many shows he co-hosts. You never complained directly to him about how you felt, but you missed him more than you could describe into words, and all you wanted was to be close to him. But as of recently, it seemed that even that simple deed was impossible.

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Hey, @nerdsbianhokie and @queergirlwriting, i fic-ed it! my nb!alex word vomit, that is. (here, for those wondering


When Alex gets home from work Maggie is already there, sliding berry cobbler into the oven, her t-shirt dusted with flour and her hair in a messy bun. She’s fresh faced and smiling as she greets Alex with a hug and a kiss on the cheek and Alex’s heart flutters at the touch like always, even as their stomach starts to knot, because after what they have to say there’s the possibility they could lose this. It must show on their face, too, because suddenly Maggie is looking at Alex with that expression, that head tilt and Alex swallows thickly at the tightness in their throat.

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Day 4: Compliment

aka vitya is really queer the minific

prompts from this list see under the readmore for the handwritten fic

Viktor made a show of tapping his foot even though no one was watching. He checked the watch on his wrist despite not wearing one.

“Yuuri,” he whined. “What’s taking you so long?”

There was a frantic rustling behind the door, followed by the sound of something falling over. “Just a minute!” Yuuri shouted back. “I’m almost done, just…” More rustling. “Struggling a little.”

Viktor stepped forward, leaning against the door separating him and Yuuri. “I can help!” he offered, jiggling the door against the chair Yuuri had propped against it. “Yuuri!”

“No!” Yuuri shrieked. “It’s a surprise!”

“Yuuri, the suspense is killing me!” Viktor whined.


“You’re so mean to me, Yuuri!”

“I thought you liked surprises,” Yuuri challenged, continuing to rustle in peace.

“Not when I have to wait for them.”

Yuuri laughed. “I can hear you pouting from over here.”

“I’m not pouting,” Viktor pouted.

“Okay, okay.”

A chair scraped against the floor. Viktor took a deep breath as the door slowly creaked open, giving way to a shy Yuuri in its wake.

All the air punched out of Viktor’s body in a violent burst. Suddenly he was a groom waiting at the altar for his better half. He laid eyes on Yuuri at the end of the aisle and the rest of the world faded into silence as Viktor fell in love all over again.

Yuuri shuffled in place anxiously under Viktor’s reverent gaze. “Well?”

Viktor had seen the concept for Yuuri’s free skate costume. He’d helped design it, with input from both Yuuri and Minako. The mesh panel at the waist had been his idea. He and Yuuri had been laid out on his bed, sides pressed together all the way from their shoulders to their knees, when Viktor had suggested it. He’d cross-hatched two wedges onto the sketchpad spread over his and Yuuri’s knees. Yuuri had snorted.

“Of course you want mesh.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Viktor asked defensively.

Those rough sketches and fabric samples were nothing compared to the real thing. Clad in midnight blue satin, shoulders sparkling with a constellation of rhinestones, Yuuri was nothing but divine. Every part of the design was meant to accentuate Yuuri’s best features. Put together, the ensemble did just that, an ode to all the best parts of Katsuki Yuuri. Viktor simultaneously lauded and cursed his past self.

The low neckline meant to elongate the lines of Yuuri’s neck, strong, beautiful, and begging to be kissed. Yuuri’s shoulders and upper back twinkled, drawing the eye to the breadth of Yuuri’s frame. The mesh paneling slimmed Yuuri’s waist, accentuating Yuuri’s natural curves.

They’d discussed padding the jacket’s shoulders to give the illusion of broadness, similar to the epaulettes on Viktor’s previous costume. In the end, they’d decided to enhance Yuuri’s natural beauty and elegance instead of artificially altering Yuuri’s features. In retrospect, Viktor applauded that decision. Viktor loved Yuuri as they were; Yuuri was beautiful as they were.

“Viktor?” Yuuri called timidly.

In his stupor, Viktor had failed to respond. Viktor swallowed, mouth full of cotton. Words continued to fail him, even under Yuuri’s curious gaze. Viktor raised his hand, making a twirling motion with his finger.

Yuuri turned slowly, giving Viktor time to appreciate the costume’s back. The mesh panel swelled, exposing the breadth of Yuuri’s back. Delicate vines curled up Yuuri’s spine, evoking images of a French fleur-de-lis. Elegant, a flash of femininity, a tip of the hat to Eros.

The biggest patch on Yuuri’s spine was red, a sharp contrast to the rest of the costume’s midnight blue. They’d chosen that color to evoke imagery of the night sky, mysterious and otherworldly, just like Yuuri themselves. Viktor had asked why Yuuri wanted the red accent on their spine. Yuuri’s only response had been to blush and look away.

Viktor’s eyes finally slid down to the pleats at the bottom of the jacket. The jacket’s back was just slightly higher than the jacket’s front. The pleats parted demurely just above the curve of Yuuri’s butt. Ah, yes, accentuating Yuuri’s natural curves.

Yuuri finished their turn, coming to face Viktor with a questioning look.

Viktor was still struggling to find words, rendered completely speechless. All the words he knew in three different languages left him, taking all the moisture in his mouth with them.

“You,” Viktor started, voice coming out in a croak. He coughed. “You look divine.”

Yuuri blushed, fiddling with the jacket’s cinch at their waist. “You… you don’t need to be dramatic.”

“I’m not,” Viktor insisted. “You’re radiant.”

This costume was perfect. They’d made the right choice with this design. Eros was undeniably sexy, but this… this was everything that made Yuuri Yuuri. Understated by elegant, masculine and feminine, mysterious but undeniably, breathtakingly gorgeous. It was everything that represented Yuuri’s love. It was everything that made people love Yuuri: everything that made Viktor fall in love.

“A-anyway,” yuuri said quickly, floundering for a change in topic. “Now you need to help me out of this.”

Viktor smiled tenderly at Yuuri’s retreating back. “Gladly.”

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anonymous asked:

all discourse aside, did you actually like the sleepless night video? i haven't seen you really talking about the video itself. i thought it was really cute!

my personal opinion on the video itself was that it was a bit dull! it was definitely my least favorite in the series, and it felt a bit less authentic than the past sleepless night videos. whether that was bc phil didn’t even seem tired, because he was saying he needed to stay quiet then hammering things into his wall, because he was trying to get to sleep but then spent a good amount of time eating more sugar, because he used a lot of the same concepts from previous sleepless night videos which made the format seem stale, or bc, in fact, it was staged and it wasn’t even late when he made it (or a combination of all of those things) too much of the vid just felt weird or over-performed to me. overall it just wasn’t as fun or natural or soft as the past videos have felt, and for that reason it wasn’t as appealing to me as a viewer. which is ok!!! i mean phil is an entertainer, youtube is his job, all of his content is a performance to one degree or another, etc. etc. etc. 

all of that being said, it’s not a video i could see myself re-watching very much in the way i’ve done w other sleepless night vids, and i guess that’s how i measure whether i liked it. of course i’ll never completely dislike something phil makes because i like watching him overall, he’s cute and giggly and uplifting almost innately (i legit take joy out of seeing him laugh i mean lets be honest here) but this wasn’t his best content imo. i’d compare all of this to my feelings after this year’s easter baking which wasn’t bad, but in my opinion was kind of just,,, dull,,, bc it mimicked the style of past baking vids, felt rushed/forced, and therefore didn’t seem to have that element of warmth that makes so many of their past baking videos so incredible. soooo, overall (to me) a mediocre video, not one of my favs from phil, and i’d much rather take any of the other three over this one!!!


Pairing: Philip Hamilton x reader

AU: Mafia, late 1920′s-1930′s
Word Count: 
T/W: Makeshift surgery? Gets a little spicy - no smut! Scars.
A/N: Not much, just a filled, but be prepared for the next one.
Tags: @justfangirlingaround@iworshipmusicals@othermia@applesislife@littlewinchestergirl725@sassygayfriend@sparklingbubblesoda​ ✨ @sarahgurl09​ ✨

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Upon waking up the next morning to a bright blue sky, with warm sunlight shining in your bedroom, you took a moment to stretch. Slowly coming to a more attentive state, you remembered what had happened last night. Still giddy with excitement you wanted to see Philip so badly. Rushing to get dress, you felt as though things had changed between the two of you and absolutely for the best. You baby pink dress, though a day old, only had a few wrinkles pressed into it; you easily managed to fluff them out with your hands as you lightly twirled in front of the mirror. Opening the bedroom door, you smelt a wonder smell. It reminded you of Sundays with your family, everyone around the breakfast table, enjoy the meal and time together. Entering the kitchen you saw Eliza and Angie setting the table; Philip was at the bar counter reading the paper. His eyes met yours, as he gave a devilish smile. A sudden blush and warmth rose to your cheeks.

“Good morning, dear!” Eliza greeted you with a wide smile, breaking your unspoken conversation with Philip. 

“Morning!” Angie hugged you, before returning to help her mother. 

“I’m sorry I slept so late- I didn’t mean to-” you started to apologize realizing everyone was up.

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stxxphi  asked:

For blurb night... was wondering... My first tattoo with Sirius? I was sitting there with the needle on my arm wondering if he'd be holding my hand or laughing at me. Wondering how that might go? If you got time Re?

“Doing so well, love,” Sirius praised, his hand holding yours tightly. “Almost done now.” 

You closed your eyes as you squeezed his hand, the pain of the needle shooting through you.

“And finished,” the tattoo artist announced as he removed the needle and began to wipe off your freshly tatted arm.

“Thank you,” you nodded to the artist. 

The tattooist smiled before standing to give you and Sirius a moment to recover. 

“How do you feel?” Sirius asked, watching you with a nervous stare. 

“A little lightheaded,” you admitted. 

“I’ll get you some water once we leave,” he promised, kissing your forehead. “Are you gonna let me see it, now?”

You had made Sirius promise not to look at your design. It was a surprise for him that you were quite excited about. Though, you weren’t quite sure how he’d react.

“I suppose,” you chuckled. 

You held your arm out to him and saw his eyes grow wide as he took in the fresh ink. 

“I - you -” he stuttered. 

“Oh shit, you don’t like it, do you? I knew I should have asked first,” you began to ramble.

As your lips moved in apology, Sirius cut you off with a tender kiss. One hand cupping your cheek softly.  

“I love it,” he grinned. “You got a paw print for me?” His face was just inches from yours. 

You blushed, “Well, yeah. That way you’re always with me, you know?”

Sirius shook his head in awe, “You’re brilliant, you know that?”

Originally posted by nellaey


Originally posted by jimiyoong

Genre: Fluff, ANGST, Celebrity! AU

Word count: 7.7k (my longest oneshot ever !!)

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Summary: The perfect guy, the imperfect celebrity

Warnings: Triggering topics - panic attack, thoughts of suicide

A/N: HELLO GUYS IM BACK WITH MY FIRST FIC IN QUITE A WHILE im so sorry tumblr deleted the post before this i haTE but it’s back so whooo !! this story is actually somewhat based on a personal experience, so I included a lot of personal thoughts and insights to try to make this better HAHAHAH but i hope yall like it !! i put in a lot of effort trying to write this fic and many BLOOD SWEAT AND TEARS were shed but im finally done !! i really hold this story v close to myself because i actually felt all these things and i was a little delusional like the y/n in this fic !! please tell me how it was by dropping an ask into my inbox, both compliments and constructive criticism is good !! anyway besides this fic, im not yet done with dead leaves soRRY but feel free to leave me a request for the ending of chapter 7 (2nd last chapter !!) so drop me that asK ANYWAY IM RAMBLING AGAIN I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS FIC BYEEEEEE

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anonymous asked:

Hi Aly! How would you interpret the ending? I was a little preoccupied while watching the episode and I feel kind of dumb for asking, but was that ending a flashback or foreshadow? And was Red storming in on Tom, about to kill him, shooting him.... what?!?!

First, please don’t feel dumb.  I was immensely preoccupied as well.  Live tweet.  An earlier time slot where the family is still awake while I am watching - you name it.  Thank God for the DVR and eventual bedtimes.  Anyway….

The West Coast is almost done so I’ll tackle this…..I’ll be honest, I had to rewatch the scene a couple of times before I had a solid view of what my current view is.  I also have read the EW and TVLine interviews with JB for what they’re worth which sort of confirmed certain things I was thinking anyway.

My first impression on my first watch was - oh this is Tom’s fear of what could happen.  Then I read that TBL was in fact the Blind Item from TVLine from earlier in the summer about a major character “supposedly” getting whacked in the premiere and I was like OMG I better go back and rewatch the scene.  So I did, a few times.  I’ve watched the gifs.  I re-read the articles.  These are my current thoughts.

I interpret the scene as a “flash forward” (i.e., a scene that we will see in a future episode - probably the fall finale if the TVLine original timeline of two months was correct).  I think the Tom death-thing could go either way (i.e., whether he lives or dies) but I don’t think he dies by Red’s hand.  Red is shooting from the moment he enters the apartment door.  Tom has his hands raised in a non-threatening manner.  My take is that there is a third actor involved.  Red is shooting at someone who is in that apartment who has already bloodied Tom within an inch of his life and not at Tom.  Note the bullet that drops right by Agnes’s toy. Tom brought this down on them all by investigating things he should have left alone (i.e., the suitcase).  Whether Tom actually dies or not will depend on whether the cat has lived his ninth life yet.  I do not think he dies by Red’s hand - and that it’s all a red herring so to speak - because if Red was going to kill Tom, he’d sit him in a chair and execute him.  He wouldn’t bloody Liz’s apartment and drop bullets in there unless there was an immediate imminent threat.  Short of Tom holding Liz at gunpoint again (and remember, Red is shooting before he even pauses to see the scene) I don’t see that happening. 

These are my current thoughts and subject to future revision with all disclaimers.  LOL.  I call it as I see it, I might be right or wrong.  That’s all.  Thank you for the ask :)

anonymous asked:

I noticed something while re-watching 10x05 "Fan Fiction". After Dean tells Sam to shut his face and get in the car because he kept asking about Destiel, the look on Sam's face is sad, almost. Like, "I know you're in love with Cas, and it's okay. I don't want you to keep hiding this part of yourself because you're still my big brother and I still love you." Thoughts?

you can add it to all the other Sammy knows / Sammy is so done faces imo.

Faded Away / 02 / Jeon Jungkook

But if you loved me, why’d you leave me?


Another glass.

Another drink.

Another night.

Another failure.

Another loss.


It was all she felt recently.

There was no escape anymore. It was as if some other being higher than her had decided that she would spend the last few years of her life, pining after a thought that she would never be able to make real again.

Two years.

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Harry Potter and the Cursed Child: Sunday 23rd April, 2017.

Today was a full circle moment for me as I was sat in the exact same seat I did for my very first show. I had to laugh because people always ask me how I’m not bored of it yet but as I sat there in that small squeaky seat, with my stomach full of butterflies and my face aching from all the smiling, I can honestly say this show was just as magical the seventh time as it was the first ♥︎

Oh and before I start, I just want to say that today’s part two was one of the best performances I’ve seen from Anthony. He’s always a delight to watch but today he was something else. I’m so glad I scraped the empty barrel that is now my bank account to see him again!

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nimblenonsense replied to your post “You’re probably tired of hearing about ant salvation, but I just got…”

Yeah, if you’re in the Gulf Coast region of the US, those are probably the razberry crazy ants. Near all commercially available baits and poisons don’t work, and we had a guy from Texas A&M come through our full neighborhood and do a study for pesticide companies to find something that worked. Check if your neighbors have problem with the ants, if they do, the only way to make it stop is that the whole neighborhood has to get anti-ant’d at the same time :cccc

Not even remotely, I’m in the upper midwest, the land of ice and fire. 

Yet we somehow had three different types of ant in our kitchen alone last year and sporadic invasions of the bathroom and home office. I dunno if you’ve ever heard a PC processor churning up ants when it got turned on after we’d been gone for a weekend, but the computer almost didn’t win. 

We’ve done all the things you’re supposed to do re: the yard and we’ve done all kinds of house repairs to get rid of them and laid every poison available to us. 

I watched the ones in the kitchen chew through fucking silicone calk.

We completely abandoned part of the basement last year until we were able to hire someone to come bomb it for us and now we have an annual plan we pay into to get the house treated every few weeks/months depending on how bad it is. So far we haven’t seen any since the last treatment so hopefully I wont be dealing with ants coming out my keyboard again/inside my tea kettle. My OCD just can’t handle it.

A Mothers Love

Jaimie Lannister knew his oaths. Had repeated them over and over in his head while the King raped his wife when he burnt ‘traitors’ alive. He had repeated them over and over again while he watched Elia Martell keep her chin high and eyes clear of tears as her Goodfather brutalized her with his words: of her brown skin and brown blood.

He knew his oaths.

But he was tired of them.

He knew his oaths and he was keeping them.

His oath to little Rhaenys when he told her that his job was to keep them safe. And so, in the middle of the night he had packed Elia Martell and her daughter, still sleeping, and given her son a drop of dreamwine to keep his cries at bay. She stared at him with terror and joy, and he carted her away with the last of her handmaidens. He paid the barn keeper enough gold to escape as well: for the King would burn anyone caught in this ploy.

And he rode off into the night, Elia before him, clutching her small babe to her chest and Rhaenys before her handmaidens. They rode until the sun came up and kept riding until the babe began to cry. But it mattered not, for they had made it to the Reach and hid. He gave them all bland dresses, coverings for their faces and he traded his armor for leathers and then they were off again, moving faster than comfortable. But Elia Martell did not complain. She hushed her babe before her, she quieted Rhaenys curiosity. And they rode and they rode and they rode.

Jaimie Lannister may have been an oathbreaker.

But the look on Elia Martell’s face when she passed through to Dorne, was enough for him.

For he’d never seen a woman so grateful, a woman so kind and loving to her children as his mother. But he only remembered her golden hair and green eyes.

He did not think of Cersei: because that ached and burned in his gut.

He did not think of the sister that he loved, more like a lover than a sister, because he knew that everything she had ever done was for her: not for him. And when he’d seen the joy and love that Elia had for her son and daughter, he thinks he prefers that to the alternative of a selfish lover he seemed to be addicted to, rather than in love with.

And so he forced her from his mind.

And he continued to Sunspear.

Tywin Lannister dies a bloody and vicious death. Or so he hears. He stays in Dorne, as Princess Elia’s and Queen Rhaella’s sworn sword. Lady Lyanna is brought to Sunspear, once Elia and Rhaella are told of what is true.

She is not treated unkindly, though there is a fire and fear in the girls eyes that reminds Elia of her brother, who is off to war. The girl is nearing her end of her pregnancy, and protects the babe fiercely. But Elia shows her kindness in simple ways.

He will be a Royal Bastard, of course, but she has a birthing outfit made for him of the grey of the Starks. Lyanna almost cries when she sees it: but she does fall to her knees and beg Elia forgiveness.

But Elia only smiles.

“There is nothing to forgive, child.”

Because she is a child. She’s not even sixteen yet, and won’t be when she births her first child. Her hips are a bit too small, and she carries the babe with issue. Much like Elia had with Aegon.

Elia promises to protect him as a Sand should the time come of it. She promises to pass him off as Oberyn’s son, though he’s not given her permission to. But she knows her brother, and he’ll do as she wills. Rhaella only watches with ghost-like eyes.

“I never wanted to marry him,” she tells them both. Her voice is not what it was even five years ago, when Elia first met her. She has scars over her back and her neck and chest. But not her face: the only place that his wickedness had not poisoned. “I was in love with another.” She tells them. “And after Rhaegar, Shaena, and Daeron, I begged him to stop.” Lyanna wept for her, silently. “And then he forced me Aegon, Jaehaerys, and Viserys. I loved them all: Rhaegar’s melancholy, Shaena’s beautiful smile, Daerons laughter, Aegon’s beautiful violet eyes, Jaehaerys dimples, and Visery’s inquisitiveness. But now I only have Rhaegar, Viserys, and the child I bare.” She had whispered. “He forced me, child after child, to bare him children. I bore him so many stillborn children…” She began to laugh, shaking her head. “And still, after I’d done everything he asked, he broke the one promise he made to me.”

Madness, Elia and Lyanna understood. Her one promise she got from him was that he would not succumb to the madness. She kept her promise, but he could not keep his.

Lyanna gives birth to a beautiful baby boy. He has dark hair and grey eyes. A solemn face and Rhaella weeps that it is like Rhaegar’s. Elia wants to agree, but Lyanna is sure when she says no.

“No, he looks like Ned. My sweet brother,” she says through her tears before he is taken from her. The Maester spends three days with her, nursing her back to life.

Lyanna will never bare children again, the Maesters tell her. She’ll be weak for the remainder of her life. But she is grateful, for that. Even if they wonder if he’s a Targaryen, he looks nothing like his true father. And never again will Lyanna be forced to marry a man she does not want. But little Jon, Lyanna decides, looks so much like the North it quells her fears.

Rhaenys may have had her mother’s dark coloring and hair, but her face and her indigo eyes were her father’s. As well as her shape. In truth: she didn’t look anything like Elia. And Aegon, with his beautiful blonde hair and indigo eyes, was a picture of his father.

But little Jon looked like Lyanna, and perhaps even a bit of Rhaegar’s solemness, too. But he was of Stark coloring. And Targaryen had strong blood, but it seemed he was meant to be more Stark, if anything.

It would be said that Rhaegar may have stolen her, but to all that would look upon her bastard son, they would see Stark.

Ser Arthur Dayne says that his own sister gives birth to a girl, of the same coloring. But his sister cannot bare to look at her. No: she like little Jon, is all Stark.

Lyanna says she wants her. She wants her niece, all that she has left of Brandon.

Elia begs Doran to allow it, and he cannot deny her.

And so together, with Rhaella, Elia, and Lyanna, they burrow together with the last of their children. Viserys does not understand it, but Jaimie and Ser Arthur Dayne take great care in re-wiring all the evil that his Mad Father has instilled in him.

She names the nameless girl Elianna. Elia smiles, but she comes to rest against her as they watch the children all around. Viserys is gentle with Rhaenys as they both play Queen and King to little Princes and Princesses.

Rhaella watches from afar, but her body slowly wastes away in what will be her last pregnancy. Elia and Lyanna pray every morning, every lunch, and night that she will survive.

But Rhaella is glad to almost be done.

For she has suffered far too long.

Jon and Elianna Sand could be twins, Lyanna decides on the day that they say the war is over. Elianna has hair curled to her scalp, and Jon has it as well. His eyes are grey while hers are Violet, like her mother’s. She wonders, idly, if she is more Targaryen then he. But she knows she is her brother’s daughter. She has beautiful dimples and makes Jon smile more than anyone else can. (Except Rhaenys, of course, but that little girl could make a dying cynic grin like it was his happiest day.) Viserys is a bit jealous, but he will have Dragonstone, Rhaella assures him. Their ancient home, stemmed in magic and old blood. For that, he seems excited. He begs goodsister Elia to show him to be a good Lordling, and she smiles sweetly and promises him that she will.

Rhaegar is dead and so is Robert, but the Targaryens and Baratheons are not. It is Jaimie who kills the King, in the end, on Rhaella and Elia’s decision. They call him Kingslayer, but behind closed doors Elia kisses him and tells him that he is her Knight. Cersei hates him: but she is married to Jon Arryn. She quickens twins quickly. It’s a good thing, as well, because Jon Arryn is slowly dying. Lysa Tully is married to  Robert Baratheon’s younger brother, Stannis. Cersei is furious, Elia knows. But she also knows that Stannis would have had her thrown her out of Storm End quickly, had he known her straying ways.

Rhaella takes the crown, but names Aegon and Elia as her successor, bypassing Viserys who she knows is just too vulnerable for the throne. She rules with Lyanna, as well, who will stay in King’s Landing, with Jon and Elianna. Lyanna, behind the scenes, mends the broken ties between the North and South. It is painful, but Elia protected Lyanna more than anyone else. And she was a Dornish woman, the most Southron of them all. And she had protected her more than she deserved.

Ned weeps when he sees his sister, frail and young, two babes by her side. She cannot lift a sword as she once did, nor perform archery, but she can sing and she can love her son and niece. And so that is what she tells him that she will do.

“Little Jon and Sweet Elianna,” she introduces him. “My son and Brandon’s daughter. I need to stay here: with Elia. After it all, this is what I owe her.” Ned begs her, but she only shakes her head. “Come to the Capitol with my nieces and nephews, when you have them. I cannot travel very far anymore, brother.”

He stayed with her for days, before he set back home.

The realm was not settled, but she was glad that it had fallen this way, instead of another.

Daenerys Stormborn was born in the middle of a hurricane. With her, brought the death of her mother. But it was peaceful. She held Daenerys and Viserys and told him all the things she loved him for. All the things she thought him great for. She told him the man she wanted him to be: kind, gracious, reasonable, and loving. She told him that things would be different from now on, but that he was to take care of his sister.

There were tears, of course. The little boy had no mother or older brother or father. But he was sweet, sweeter than Aerys had ever been. And that, Rhaella thought, that was all she wanted. A sweet son. She had seen too many of her children die. But she knew, as Viserys molded himself around what she wanted for him, that Viserys would take care of her Daenerys.

“I promise Dany,” he murmured as he kissed her crown of silver blonde hair. “I promise I will be a good brother.”

And Rhaella fell asleep. But she never woke up.

Jon would have the Tower of Joy, Doran had declared, when the boy came of age of course. He would take a new name and he would serve Dorne. Elianna, as she got older, would decide on marriage or perhaps another path. But the way that Oberyn Martell planned to train her, she prayed that she lived a life of freedom like Oberyn raised his daughters, rather than how Lyanna had been raised.

Aegon would be King, but Rhaenys not his wife. It felt like a cheat, to Elia, but she did not speak against it. Not for the lack of marriage, but because Rhaenys was the true Queen. But it seemed that the future laid before them was still a restrictive one.

Rhaenys would marry Willas Tyrell, Aegon a Northern bride, hopefully, should Ned Stark ever father a daughter. Even Jon, perhaps, would marry and become a Lord. Although he loved to lie beside Dany, and beside him was the only way that she would sleep fitfully through the night. Elianna, of course, was the easy babe. A happy one too. Daenerys was sweet, but a bit shier. Between Elia and Lyanna, they nursed their babes at their own breasts. Elia often wondered what would become of her, the only living daughter of Aerys the Mad. But for now, Elia, Lyanna, and Rhaella’s babes would be raised together, with Ashara Dayne’s child. It was all she could do for the poor woman who had fallen to the mothers melancholy. Perhaps one day it would fade and she would wish to see Elianna again. But they were together and  at least this ending, was sweet.


I’ve been a SasuSaku fan since the very beginning and will be until the very end, BUT I UNDERSTAND YA’LL NARUSAKU FANS OUT THERE!!!! GODS, IT SHOULD’VE BEEN THEM!!!! 

I know Sakura will probably won’t be happy at first, but I know deep in her heart how Naruto became so important to her, and that it’s so easy to love him back. And even though I know Sasuke also had feelings for Sakura all this time, he’ll be happy for them because Sakura’s better off with Naruto. AND FCKING NARUTO HAS ALWAYS BEEN AND WILL ALWAYS BE IN LOVE WITH SAKURA. HE CHOSE HER. HARUNO SAKURA WAS HIS UZUMAKI KUSHINAAAAAAAAAAAA

I was re-watching Shippuden, and I literally fell off my chair and curled up after I watched that scene where Naruto was reassuring Minato that he’s fine, and that he’s done everything his mom wanted before Minato was released from Edo Tensei. HE PAUSED AND HESITATED AND WAS OBVIOUSLY HURT WHEN HE TALKED ABOUT FINDING A GIRL LIKE HIS MOTHER!!!! He was obviously talking about Sakura, but because he knew that Sasuke’s almost back, he can’t have her!!!!


Edit: I respect all canon pairings. Don’t worry. This is just me not being able to move on hahahaha