Here is the analysis of THE VOLTRON SPOILER from my experience as someone that works in television and has seen those type of “text burn in” on video countless times before
1) (upper left) obviously happens at 13 min 55 sec into the episode.
2) (lower left) the episode is final, because the word LOCKED mean : it’s locked, it’s final, we’re not touching it.
3) But they touched it again, recently, because it’s written “updated april 18th”.
4) this looks like a voice booth, yes, but also the file look like a file we send either to a musician or to the sound mixing studio (h264 is a type of video file that is used by both, we produce this video file format every single day to send to musicians, sound studios, producers and networks for approbation, etc.) My bet is on the sound studio.
5) Sadly, the episode number that should be written before the word LOCKED is hidden by the mike.
6) (upper right) the number 162_tk1 probably means : 162nd shot in the episode, take 1. Don’t take my word on this one because I only worked with animation shots once in my life, I usually work with normal tv shows.
Behind the Scenes of Riverhead: Meet Danya Kukafka!
It’s time for another BEHIND-THE-SCENES at Riverhead Books!
We love introducing you to our amazing staff who do so much hard work here to
get our books into the world. Today we introduce you to Danya Kukafka, an
Assistant Editor who is not only an incredibly warm, lovely colleague and a
brilliant editor, she is also a talented writer herself. Her debut novel Girl in Snow comes this August from
Simon & Schuster. It’s an addictive, page-turning thriller about the
mysterious murder of a small town golden girl; Girl in Snow already being called “suspenseful and electrifying”!
Meantime, we sat down with Danya and asked her to share more
of her personal story.
Where did you go to college/what
was your major?
I went to
New York University, where I studied fiction writing.
How did you get started in book
reading for a literary agency (The Book Group) while I was still in school.
They would give me a manuscript every week, and I’d write a report then come in
for a discussion. They always provided cookies and coffee— I knew right away
that publishing was the place for me.
What are some interesting things
you do as part of your job?
I love reading
manuscripts before they become books, of course, but there are so many things
that make being an editor at Riverhead so special. Between designing cocktails
with NYC restaurants to match our books (check out the #RiverheadBar),
attending screenings of major motion pictures (The Girl on the Train, anyone?) and crash-reading next year’s big
book in the middle of the night, I also get to have wonderful interactions with
authors I deeply admire. The most interesting aspect for me is talking to
authors about the shape of their books before they’re fully formed, and helping
them mold their stories into fully realized universes.
What do you look for when looking
at manuscripts on submission?
I look for
books that absorb me completely—that take me so far into new worlds that I
forget where I am. I look for stories that have a reason to exist, an
underlying fundamental purpose that screams out from the page, and says
something specific and unique and affecting to the reader. This isn’t always
obvious, usually more of a feeling than a strategy, and I’m still learning the
art. But I think there’s an electricity to a good book, and as an editor it’s
hard to find— when we do find it, it takes us over entirely and that’s the most
Any favorite highlight of working
at Riverhead so far?
French food with Meg Wolitzer and Lauren Groff for Riverhead Table! It was a
day filled with champagne and lovely company. A guitar and a Joni Mitchell
songbook even made an appearance.
The Time of Our Lives (Steven Moffat’s final DWM Column)
You know something I don’t know. You know who the next Doctor is. At least, I think that will be out by the time you read this. Old Chibs (as he must always now be known) is playing his cards close to his chest, and won’t tell me a thing. I attempted to give him some sage advice on the subject of secrecy, but he gave me a look, as if to say, “Seriously, have you checked your own record on this??” and had me removed by security. Again. But it’s comfy here, in my skip in the Roath Lock car park, and Russell is good company. When we’re both not crying, that is.
Actually, I’m not comfy at all. I’ve got everything crossed. Can Old Chibs pull it off? Can we actually have a new Doctor that’s a proper surprise, the way it’s supposed to be? I do hope so! But you know all that by now, out there, in the glorious new dawn.
And the fact is, I have no more news for you. Barely any secrets to keep. One more Special on Christmas Day, and I’ll be gone before the end credits. A brand-new team will go blazing into action, and in the far future, vast new Andrew Pixley Archives will form in the void.
But frankly, even I don’t care about me - this is all about Peter Capaldi. I saw him at the end, you know. The very last shot you see of him as the Doctor is in fact (brilliant scheduling by amazing producer, Pete Bennett) the very last thing Peter did on the show. Just as popping out the TARDIS and confusing Strax was the very first thing he did in Deep Breath, all those centuries ago. Since then he’s faced down a Mummy on the Orient Express, talked down a Zygon war using a couple of empty boxes, punched a wall for four and a half billion years, misunderstood the romantic intent of a puddle, decked a racist, insulted Santa, had a 24-year date in a restaurant, and played gooseberry when Missy met herself. He’s been gentle and fierce and rude and kind, and now with a wave of his hand and a flap of his cuff, he’s striding into the sunset to give it a piece of his mind. Be there for him on Christmas Day - Scotland’s finest in his final hour. He’ll break your heart and save your galaxy, all over again.
It was funny, that last day. I was in the studio for most of it, which is the first time I’ve ever managed that on Doctor Who. Normally, there’s so much else to do - new season to plan, new scripts to write, new stars to find. But now, with my time on the show winding down, with desks falling empty, and computers falling silent, and endless rounds of goodbye drinks, there’s nowhere else for me to be.
Brian Minchin is here today. And we sit and laugh and chat, and marvel at Peter’s extraordinary final performance. Every take is different and beautiful in a new way, and how the hell are we supposed to choose just one? It’s not goodbye to Brian, I’m delighted to say - he’s joining me and Sue at Hartswood Films, and we have dark and mighty plans. Rachel Talalay, our finale specialist, is directing. She’s come back to see number 12 off into the shades but I very much hope she’ll be directing more Doctor Whos in the future. She keeps hinting that she won’t, though.
“You’re already directing the new one - you’re doing the regeneration!” “Yes, but apart from that.” “You probably know who the new Doctor is, and everything!” “No, I don’t” “You had a secret dinner with Matt Strevens and Old Chibs!” “It wasn’t secret!” “Well, I didn’t know about it.” “No-one thought to tell you, it was just for people who are… you know…” “What?” “Involved.”
I was alright after a bit, and the nurse with the oxygen was very nice.
“Who’s the new Doctor?” I demanded to know from my stretcher, mostly in hand signals. “I don’t know,” lied Rachel, probably. “Just the initials.” “I don’t know.” “Will you tell me if I cry?” “You’re already crying.” “… Would you like ten pounds?”
There’s another goodbye coming up - and frankly it’s right here. My old friend, the wise and kind King of Numbers himself, Tom Spilsbury, is leaving this magazine. It’s funny, we’ve done almost everything in parallel in Doctor Who. He was assistant editor on the mag, while I was an occasional writer for Russell’s era. He became editor only shortly before I became showrunner. And now, at the end, we’re tumbling out the door together. We’ve tumbled out of quite a few doors together, but I’m damned if I’m telling you which pubs. Once a month, for so many years, Tom would remind me that this column was due. No, that’s a lie. He’d remind me several times a month. Towards the end, in a very high voice, with crying. Well, no more! These days are over. Tom’s entirely brilliant era of DWM is drawing to a close with every word you read, my time on Doctor Who is vanishing like breath on a mirror, and this column too is about to pop out of existence.
It’s funny how things you take for granted just disappear, isn’t it? That school you went to every day and then never go back to, that friend you part from laughing and never see again, all those doors that click behind you without you knowing they’re closing forever. I first wrote Doctor Who in 2004, and I very much hoped I’d get to write it again. Then I wrote more, and then so much more, until I thought it might go on forever. I remember at some awards dinner, telling Brian I loved my job so much I couldn’t imagine ever stopping. In other more melancholy moments I knew that everything ends and wondered what the very last words I’d ever write about Doctor Who would be. Well, the time has come, and here they are.
Humorous Charts and Graphs Demonstrate What Being an Introvert Is All About
Assistant health editorAnna Borges from BuzzFeed Life illustrated a series of hilarious graphs, which perfectly sum up life and feelings as an introvert. The pie charts showcase the vivid imagination of the introvert, their highly empathetic skills, and their great sense of self.
Late August: Greenhill visits Edward and invites him to the party at the Sphere music hall (ch109)
(probably 31st), Saturday: Edward and Cheslock go to the party (ch109)
September (probably 7th), Saturday: Edward and Elizabeth go to the party (ch110)
Late September: Lizzie runs away from home and Edward asks Ciel for help (ch110)
September 28, Saturday: Ciel, Sebastian and Edward visit the SMH and meet Blavat (ch110); It’s the fourth Saturday of the month, so there’s a special concert performed by S4 (ch111, 112)
October 4, Friday: Ciel attends the Sirius meeting (ch113)
around October 5th: Meeting with Abberline (ch115); Ciel meets Nina in front of the music hall (ch116)
↓ 1 week later
around October 12: Sebastian investigates the music hall, takes Lizzie back, but she runs away again (ch117); Sebastian starts preparing for the opening of the Funtom Music Hall & the debut of the F5 (ch119)
↓ 2 weeks later
(Update) October 23, Wednesday: Usual S4 concert + debut of the Funtom5 + opening of the Funtom Music Hall + Violet collapses during the concert (ch118, ch120-122)
October 24, Thursday: Blavat goes to the Funtom5 concert (ch122-123)
October 31, Thursday: Halloween special chapter (ch120)
October 24 - November: judging from the graph Sebastian was looking at in ch123, it seems the the Funtom Music Hall held 4 concerts between that time?
sometime in November: Sphere Music Hall’s murders are exposed (ch123); meeting with Abberline (ch124)
November 15, Friday: Sebastian and Ciel go to Bath and there they meet Grell and Othello (ch125)
November 28, Thursday(???): Sebastian and Ciel come back from Bath, Agni is killed, Real Ciel returns to the Phantomhive manor (ch126-130)
Actually, the more I think about the timeline in Blue Sect arc, the more I get confused. It’s not only the mysterious 2 weeks gap between ch125 and ch126-130 that doesn’t make sense, but there’s also a big inconsistency in ch118-122:
So… the S4 concert in ch118 took place on a Saturday,
but it got hijacked by the “Funtom 5″ who gave their debut concert on the same day.
In ch121 (*note: it’s still the same day, i.e. Saturday), this guy bought a concert ticket for the next day.
And since Yana added some details in the comicbook (vol.25), we can
read the exact date on the ticket:
It reads “Thursday 24th October 1889″ which means that it is Wednesday 23rd October at this point in time, but that doesn’t make any sense since the guy in ch118 said it’s Saturday.
However, the inconsistency intensifies eve more with this conversation between Greenhill and Blavat (*again: this all happens on the same day, i.e. it should still be Saturday):
Greenhill: For tomorrow’s event, […]
Blavat: I believe Monday is for Polaris…
which is just… confusing as hell, or rather…
Tl;dr: I guess Yana, her assistants and editor, they all got a biiit confused with the timeline in this arc. Or maybe there’s a wormhole in Kuro-verse and the characters are able to jump from one day to another day as they wish. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Hey Be More Chill fandom! Are you interested in creating art for a charity fanzine? If so, you should audition for the Be More Chill Yearbook Fanzine, a collection of fluffy, heartwarming moments from the kids’ senior year to graduation.
Here are the details:
The main mod for this project is me, @omegaylomaniac. I myself will not be involved in creating art for the project aside from the cover and formatting the zine itself. I will also remain mostly uninvolved with the judging process.
There will be a panel of roughly five judges to go over auditions, the bulk of which have not yet been chosen. If you feel as though you can give a fair, generally unbiased voice to the project, you may also message this tumblr to volunteer to be a judge. (Please note: I will not be able to accept everyone who volunteers. I am trying to create as unbiased of an auditions process as possible, while also trying not to make the judges panel too large.)
All proceeds will go to a charity for hurricane relief efforts for island countries affected by Hurricane Harvey and/or Irma. (The charity itself has yet to be determined as we are trying to choose a reputable one.)
There will be a total of 24 - 28 artists working on this project, and anywhere from 24 - 30 pieces to create, depending on how many apply.
Even if you do not get in, I still need some help with the design and formatting of the zine and will need a few editors to assist. If you are willing to be an editor given you do not get in as an artist, please indicate so in your entry.
Send either a portfolio of work or a link to an art tag to firstname.lastname@example.org. Please include any name(s) that you go by and any email/social media you would like to be contacted through for results.
Auditions begin today, November 19th and end Sunday, December 31st at 11:59 pm Central Standard Time.
If you have any other questions about auditions, zine content/theme, or anything else, feel free to message this tumblr or send an ask! Good luck, artists! :)
It comes in the mail, glittering green ink on heavy cream-colored parchment.
It isn’t addressed like the rest of their mail to “Eliza Danvers” or “Jeremiah Danvers” or “Dr. and Dr. Danvers” or “the Danvers Family” or even “Alex and Kara Danvers.”
It’s addressed just to Kara.
They’ve never seen a letter quite like it before, with a detailed coat of arms stamped into a real purple wax seal on the back, like in the Elizabethan times.
And Kara opens it, right there at the dinner table, and their lives change forever.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Dear Ms. Kara Danvers, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
They all immediately understand what it is. They may not be wizards, but they’re one of the few families of non-wizards who know about the wizarding world. Alex’s father is a scientist and he worked with a couple of wizards to measure their power, to try to adapt their powers for the betterment of the entire world, not just the wizarding world. He worked closely with Clark Kent before Alex was born, and Clark Kent is basically the second coming of Harry Potter, the golden boy of the contemporary wizarding world, so Alex has always known about wizards.
She just never thought her little sister would be one.
None of them really know it all works, not really.
Alex wonders if her letter got stuck in the mail. She wonders if kids get them at different ages. She wonders if hers is coming next year, or for college, or something.
She wonders about Kara’s birth parents – were they wizards? Alex’s parents had adopted her when she was six, and Kara wracks her brain, after her letter comes, but she can’t remember either of her parents using a wand or doing anything magical. If they weren’t wizards, and the Danvers’ aren’t wizards, there’s a chance for Alex, right?
Alex tries not to be jealous.
But she fails when Kara goes to Diagon Alley with Clark and Jeremiah and comes back with a magic wand and goofy looking witch robes and a live owl and textbook after textbook about doing actual, real, honest-to-god magic.
And she fails when Kara pulls out a ticket for a train leaving King’s Cross Station from Platform 9 ¾ on September the first.
And she fails when Eliza and Jeremiah can’t talk about anything but how wonderful it will be to have a witch in the family.
And she fails when her letter doesn’t come.
They all go, on September the first, to take Kara to the train. The Hogwarts Express, Clark tells them it’s called. They all stand in the station, awkwardly between platforms 9 and 10, and Clark puffs out his chest and says that probably only one of them should accompany Kara through the barrier onto the platform.
And Alex hates, in that moment. Hates Clark, hates her stupid parents, hates Kara, hates Hogwarts, hates Kara’s dumb owl, hates magic. It burns in her, hotter and sadder and more lonely than anything she’s ever felt before.
Kara refuses to be separated from Alex yet, so she insists that they all come through the barrier with her. Clark is clearly frustrated but he agrees, and they all walk briskly through the wall together. Kara and Alex go first, holding hands.
They walk through a wall.
The train is scarlet and steaming, and the crowd is wild and kids are screaming and some of them are older than Alex and she wonders if she’ll get her letter next year, or maybe the one after next.
Clark is immediately swarmed with fans. He’s the second-most famous wizard with black hair and glasses, after all. Alex knows all about Harry Potter from her parents and from Kara and from sneaking Kara’s new History of Magic textbook into her own bed during the night and devouring it, cover to cover.
Clark helps Kara get her trunk onto the train, and Alex still doesn’t understand why she couldn’t have used a rolling suitcase like a normal person (because she isn’t normal, the hateful voice in her head whispers). Kara pops back out, after stowing her owl and, knowing Kara, probably making about five new friends in the process, to give them all hugs.
Kara cries when she hugs Alex goodbye and promises to write her constantly until they see each other at Christmas, but Alex doesn’t cry.
She’s too sad and jealous and hateful and lonely and miserable to cry.
That waits until she’s back home again, back in the room that now feels so completely empty.
Back an only child again.
They all wait with baited breath for Kara’s first letter. Clark tells them it’ll come by owl post, which none of them completely understand but Eliza and Jeremiah just nod knowingly, so Alex doesn’t ask.
Apparently it means that Kara’s owl will swoop in Alex’s bedroom window at 3am and wake her up by pecking the bottom of her foot, scaring the shit out of her. She knows, logically, that the bird isn’t going to peck her eyes out, but she moves cautiously anyway, telling the bird out loud that she’s going to untie the envelope from it’s legs, okay?
And she can’t wait for her parents. She opens the letter, and when she gets to the very bottom her heart shatters.
“P.S.” Kara had written, “All the new students are eleven, like me.”
It seems casual, but it’s code. She knows what Alex has been wondering – they’d talked about it before she’d left.
ok one (1) person told me to talk more about me and @weshouldfondue‘s TAZ Youtuber AU that we screamed about for like an hour so here we go
Taako ran a VERY successful high energy cooking show on YT, Sazed was his assistant/editor and it was a long-running series. Sazed, angry that he was denied the chance to become Taako’s partner, starts insane drama and false accusations/fake screenshots about Taako which blow up all over the internet into a huge drama scandal. Taako, unable to handle all the hate and unable to let his voice be heard, deletes his videos and goes completely off the face of the internet. It’s nearly impossible to find ANY footage of his cooking show online
Magnus runs a carpentry/DIY channel. It’s very high-quality, chill music, detailed slow-mo shots of his work, a calming, informative series. Julia appears on a few episodes/helps with camera work/editor!
Merle runs a weird beekeeping/gardening/nature channel, pretty okay quality with whatever the first royalty-free music he could find. His highest videos have millions of views but he has like 3K subscribers because his weird videos get put in people’s recommendations and all of the comments are like “it’s 3 am why am I watching a dwarf prune a bush”
Lucretia runs an ASMR-like calligraphy channel. Posts infrequently and I can imagine she keeps to herself even while online.
Barry does CodysLab types of weird science experiments that are creepy but oddly charming
Lup runs a fashion/daily vlog/makeup tutorial channel , but makes appearances on Barry’s channel often as the kind of Adam Savage in Mythbusters personality. Lots of explosions. Lots of fire. She winds up being the favorite.
Davenport owns the network they all belong to
Kravitz owns a taxidermy/animal skull/bug collection youtube videos.
Carey and Killian own a workout/fitness/lifting channel together.
Stressful weeks weren’t exactly common for you. Most of your life was spent doing paperwork in the office of your boss. As an assistant for a magazine editor, most of your work involved scheduling meetings, getting coffee, answering phone calls and emails that no one else wanted to deal with. In short, your work was beyond mundane. However, this week, your boss had been bedridden with the worst case of the flu you’ve ever seen. As a result, she’d asked you to take care of her work for her. That meant actually running the meetings you scheduled, and getting and drinking the coffee you’d fetched. The stress of the week had almost caused your dreams of being a magazine editor to fly out the window, far far away, and drown themselves in the deepest pit of the ocean, wherever that was. Only one thing had been your saving grace this week, and that was your boyfriend Harry. When work became stressful, he kicked himself into gear, knowing just how hard it is when your job gets a little overwhelming. All week, he’d packed lunches, and had dinner ready when you were home. He even would pour you several glasses of wine as he rubbed your feet because honestly, who freaking knew that magazine editors would be on their feet so much? How’d that make sense? In short, Harry’s support was the only thing that kept you from absolutely losing your shit.
Now though, the week was over, and as of this morning, your boss seemed to be of good enough health to manage coming back to work after the two days the office would be closed. Coming home was the biggest relief of all. You walked in the door and Harry had easy listening music on, your favorite candles lit, and he even had a roast dinner in the oven. He’d become a proper domesticated housewife this week and you began to think that if this is what being a magazine editor married to Harry Styles would be like, you were ready to sign the fuck up. You walked into the kitchen after toeing off your shoes and hanging your coat on the coat rack. There, you were greeted with the most marvelous sight you think you’ve ever seen: Harry, apron on, shirt off, hair a tousled mess, loose shorts hanging from his hips, frosting what appeared to be the most decadent chocolate cake you’d ever have the pleasure of tasting. You knew Harry liked to play caretaker every once in a while, it was as good for his ego as fucking you into oblivion he’d once said, but this…well this was something entirely new to you. When he hears you enter the room, he turns around with a massive smile on his face.
“Hello, lovely!” he seems absolutely ecstatic to see you and it melts every ounce of worry and stress from your bones.
“Harry, sweetheart, what is all this?” you ask, still processing the sight before you.
“Just knew how stressed you’d been this week and thought I’d do something nice for ya,” he smiles, putting a finishing touch on the cake before taking off his apron and walking towards you.
“I think I’m going to have to up my game when you have a stressful week at work,” you laugh before cuddling into the hug he is offering.
“You’ve got to do no such thing. You’re perfect,” he whispers, placing a kiss atop your head and wrapping his lean arms around you.
Just feeling his skin and heartbeat next to you would have been enough to wash away the week, but he’d absolutely gone above and beyond and you were beyond appreciative. Leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, you smile against him and hold him close.
“I’m the luckiest girl in the world. Love you so much, H.”
“Mmm, I’m the lucky one, Y/N. Go sit down, dinner is ready, I’ll be right out,” he says, giving you a quick slap to your butt before going back to his work in the kitchen.
The next hour is spent sitting at your dining room table eating the most delectable homemade meal you’ve ever tasted across from your incredibly gorgeous and mouthwatering boyfriend who exhibits nothing but love for you every single day. The roast is tender and savory, the wine delicious, and the cake perfectly sweet and moist. Honestly, Harry’s cooking skills were slightly intimidating at this point. When you’re finally finished and have thanked him profusely, you begin to gather the dishes and take them into the kitchen.
“Hush, stop tha’,” he scolds. “Go upstairs for me, would you?”
“Wanna be with my perfect boyfriend, though,” you pout, not quite ready to go to sleep despite your exhaustion.
“Oh don’t you worry, love. I’m gonna take good care of you. Went to lush today, bought your favorite bath bomb, it’s on the bathroom counter. Go on up and get a bath going; I know how much you like to plop the bath bomb in and watch it fizzle. I’ll be up in 5 minutes.”
“Marry me,” you mutter, utterly amazed at Harry’s treatment.
“Planning on it,” he smirks causing even more butterflies to erupt in your stomach.
Without a word, you bound upstairs, leaving articles of clothing on a few of the steps to entice Harry when he makes his way up, and draw a bath. As the tub fills, you light a few candles, dim the bathroom lights, and set the mood. The bath bomb fizzles and spins until the water is a beautiful gold color and dipping your foot in, you know it’s the perfect temperature. So, you sink your whole body down into the water. A moment later, the door opens and in walks a stark naked Harry, giant grin on his face, before he climbs in the bath behind you.
“Thought you were cheeky huh, teasing me with your clothes like that?” he asks in your ear, bringing handfuls of water and dripping them over your shoulders.
“Gotta show my man just how much I appreciate everything he does, don’t I?” you quip, settling further into him as the water surrounds the two of you.
“Don’t mind if you do.”
A/N: I was so tempted to do something really smutty with this one, but I need more fluffy Harry in my life. Hope you liked it!!!
We can’t imagine that being NYLON’s Senior Fashion Market Editor is easy, but Marissa Smith sure knows how to make it look FUN. We’re constantly checking in with Marissa to stay in the loop for upcoming collections and collabs, and thought it was about time we introduce you to our go-to girl. With a closet filled with color and checkerboard, we just had to take Marissa to the Brooklyn USA Diner for a bright and bold photoshoot. Checkerboard on checkerboard? Yes, PLEASE! Read on to hear about Marissa’s journey at NYLON, and why Vans have been her style staple from the start.