-hazeapalooza: “so is no one going to talk about c’s mad flush right now?” so is no one going to talk about how nursey 100% checked out chowder’s mad flush right now? also: c. c!!!! C!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! - hazeapalooza cont. “nursey i’m not a lightweight i can drink three whole beers and stop all your dumb shots.” translation: “nursey i may be drunk but i can still impress you, look-” - shinny: “wow, c -” [C!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] “- seriously never seen a frozen lake before?” - “it’s not just some lake it’s the pond! and it’s not like it happens every day in san francisco, nursey.” me: stares at my horrible wood checkered ceiling trying to regulate my breathing while i imagine chowder and nursey showing each other their home cities with a big ol road trip in between - shinny AND junior show feature a classic. a fav…… the same fond nursey smile-smirk that always seems to crop up when he’s teasing chowder.
how often does this happen??????????????????????????????????
- if you look close enough in ‘post I: roadie’ chowder and nursey are both team attic. enough said - taddy tour: we witness our confident sophomores mentoring the taddies :’) this has nothing to do with them together but it just warms my dead heart so it’s going on the list - hi, honey - parts 1 & 2: LISTEN TO ME NURSEY’S BAG WAS RIGHT THERE!!!!!!!!!!!! BY THE STAIRS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NURSEY’S BAG WAS RIGHT THERE BY THE STAIRS I CAN’T SAY THIS ENOUGH. IT WAS LATE AND THERE WAS A STORM OUTSIDE AND NURSEY SLEPT OVE.R SO do with this information what you will
- “chowder: hey jack are you going to watch the sharks game or the kings game if youlike LA uh i’m from san francisco so– nursey: dude. chill.” [holster voice] oh my god i’m so sorry but i sTIILL GEEET JEEALLOUSS - “NOOOO NURSEY DON’T TELL HIM COME ON NO NO NO”/nursey found out it was chowder’s birthday and immediately told bitty and probably EVERYONE ELSE SO THEY COULD ALL CELEBRATE THE GREATEST DAY OF THE YEAR ! - “chowder: we tried to get nursey to take intro programming with us!” at the point this was tweeted in the check please time line………..i guarantee you 10000% this was chowder’s idea. he just wants to spend more time with nursey :’) :’) :’’’) - i just like these tiny faces together, look at em
- “chow: oooh!! so if nursey & i prove you’re superstitious, we win! dex:…shit. win what? nurse: yo i don’t even know bro but you shook on it” #gotyourback - “in other news, dex and nursey have found the one thing they have in common: their love of chirping chowder” i believe on this same twitter account someone said something along the lines of ‘chirping and flirting are variants on the same idea’ so…………………..yea - “well, two samwell [winter screw’s] down, two more to go.”/”i hope the frogs had a good time. well, chowder and nursey aren’t here, so they probably did.” 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 -”from row 6 on the bus to NY chowder: …and we all had quiche!! nursey: and i wasn’t invited, c?? yo, CHILL! oh, nursey. you’re so not chill.” ……………………….bitty said it not me - nursey and chowder were in charge of bringing bitty to the haus to surprise him with the oven can you imagine them smiling at each other like a buncha goofs behind bitty’s back while nursey tweeted!!!!!!!!!!!! amazing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -”dinner talk nursey: some netflix and chill chowder: ohhh I love netflix” 😏
i dedicate this post to @omgcphee who encouraged me to do it in the first place. there’s probably more that i missed and i’m sure there’s stuff in the extras too but please……….it’s there.. . for all to see. i’ve witnessed it and now you all have too. feel free to add to this post
・don’t force yourself to draw things you don’t want to draw. If you do too many of them you’ll end up hating drawing. This is the most important thing ・when doing lineart try not to take breaks. It might mess up the pressure you draw the lines with
・occasionally flip the image you’re drawing. If it looks unbalanced, fix it cause it shouldn’t
・try changing lineart color. Black isn’t the only option
・instead of making your lineart darker and darker to make it visible on darker colors, try using multiply. I didn’t know about it for a very long time and it was painful
・learn a few shortcuts. It might seem unnecessary for some but it does save a lot of time and energy (i do almost everything by using keyboard shortcuts at this point and it’s very helpful)
・try drawing on a canvas larger than you need so that you can adjust and crop at the end
・do not leave works unfinished and start new ones thinking that you’ll come back to it unless you completely gave up on it because you will not come back to it and even if you do come back after a while, your process, tools, skills or style might change to the point where you can’t continue and you’d have to redo everything
・don’t be afraid to try new things. They might turn out surprisingly well and if they don’t you can either throw them away or keep them so you can laugh at it years later.
・take breaks and don’t look at your drawing for around 10 minutes so when you come back at it you can see the mistakes better.
all time low + inspirational lyrics from each album (with the help of @gabricl)
put up or shut up (2006) - the party scene so wrong, it’s right (2007) - stay awake nothing personal (2009) - therapy dirty work (2011) - time-bomb don’t panic! (2012) - so long, and thanks for all the booze future hearts (2015) - missing you
Too many cool things to name this guy. I’ve had this one sitting in my drafts for who knows how long, it’s about time I posted it!
I, for the life of me can not remember where the sprite came from. I don’t remember doing it myself which means another artists did it. If that artists if you or you know that artist, shoot me a message so I can credit you. ^^’
While I don’t remember where the sprite came from I do remember I did this, to show @houndoom-kaboom‘s favourite Pokemon some love. :D
I had the great pleasure of arranging and performing “It’s Over, Isn’t It?” for the episode Mr. Greg. This was my first time being involved at the early stages of a lyrical song! Since the song was focused on Pearl’s emotions–and I compose and perform all of Pearl’s piano parts–Rebecca and I collaborated to create an expressive instrumental track for Deedee Magno Hall to sing over. Rebecca first sent me her ukelele demo, and I drafted a piano accompaniment based on it, creating the main piano riff (measures 18-21 of the sheet music above). We passed my piano recording back and forth to solidify the musicality and tempo changes, so the song would breathe “naturally”.
After I recorded the piano part, we encountered a problem: the song was too long for the episode! To make it fit into our time constraints, we sped the piano recording up and had Deedee record Pearl’s vocals over it. She knocked it out of the park and gave a stunning performance!
But that led to another problem: the sped up piano arrangement now sounded way too aggressive. The song reached me again a few months later, for the composition/scoring phase of Mr. Greg. I decided to draft a new piano arrangement and re-recorded “It’s Over, Isn’t It?” along to Deedee’s vocals, with more restraint and space between chords to heighten Pearl’s loneliness. To give more pain and tension to the music, I gave the chords some darker colors and unresolved notes. I collaborated with Rebecca and storyboard artist Joe Johnston to decide what parts of the first arrangement to keep.
To represent Rose’s lingering presence, I added strings to the arrangement, performed beautifully by Jeff Ball. For those of you keeping score, this is Rose’s motivic instrument! I wrote them in 4-part string quartet style, so that this song could easily be performed by a string quartet, pianist, and vocalist.
Notes on the Sheet Music
Recently, Deedee and I performed “It’s Over, Isn’t It?” at San Diego Comic-Con! These are the sheets that I used on stage. It’s almost exactly what I played in the episode.
In measure 56, I didn’t feel like writing the entire arpeggio that I played (too many notes)–so where it says, “A MAJOR ARP”, you can just squeeze as many A major arpeggios in there as you feel like!
The two “D”s that I wrote are something that Deedee and I worked out for the performance, where I would follow her voice during the opening and ending, and she would follow my tempo throughout the rest. “D” for Deedee!
No, I chided silently, staring around the pitiful shack, blank. I had left with a heart: I’d left with Bree, the love of my second life, and that little heart had kept me tethered to life until I’d found myself again.
….but the heart with which I’d entered? That was no more.
They were still here, watching me from the
damp, dark corners of the cottage: the fragments. I could feel them. Aching.
Yes, this is where you left us. You made it out, but we
remained. Here we shall remain, now that…
My body was a no-man’s land. On the one side, grief: staggering in detail…unending…ripping me to shreds with every breath; on the other, utter nothingness: numbed oblivion…the absence of anything human. One force would rise up to charge, emboldened, and then be summarily routed, annihilated. The process would reverse and repeat over and over, leaving nothing but a throbbing, bleeding stalemate between. Mutually-Assured Destruction.
I closed my eyes and swayed, my arms limp at my sides, a finger searching for the mark at the base of my thumb.
‘I want to take away your touch with me.’
A past me had said that, here within these walls.
‘…to have something of you that will stay with me always.’
Only, nothing was ‘always.’ Not even that.
True, I could see it, still, the faintest of white lines forming the letter J; but any palpable scar had vanished into the smooth landscape of the skin.
Strange: I had never once allowed myself to acknowledge that fact. Doing so now—It plunged me into a cold, chill darkness, where only my terror was heard. Over the years, as I felt it fade, and fade, and fade, I had let myself cling to the fantasy of ‘always’; had permitted myself to never actually touch the spot, nor look at it—only to tell myself it was there, to cling to the safety and comfort of this one, tiny delusion. Yet, the cruel reality was that Jamie’s last touch was now no more than a photograph: a single moment in time, captured in the record, visible, but with no dimension. An image. A hint at a memory.
Jesus H, Christ, but it’s the *memory* that matters, Beauchamp, so stop being foolish. You’re a physician, damn you: you should know better than anyone that scars are *supposed* to heal. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change the memory.
Yes, the body, so perfectly adapted to regenerate and prolong us, will do everything in its power to erase the imperfections life inflicts upon it. The platelets will descend; the threads of fibrin will lash and bind; the white blood cells will attack infection at the breach, keeping the small hurt from becoming fatal. It is how we—physically, fundamentally—go on.
The body cannot comprehend that its healing power, that very erasure, is a wound in and of itself; that our hurts and imperfections might be nothing less than our deepest desire; that even pain—
‘…I don’t care if it hurts; nothing could hurt more than leaving you.’
“Wrong again, Beauchamp,” I whispered, my voice catching. This could hurt more. Leaving him again, half our lives gone; facing the remaining half alone….and that, after rising from loneliness up to a great peak of hope—only to—
But you know he’s alive, this time, Beauchamp. You know he’s happy! You know he’s going to live to be an old man, perhaps to see his grandchildren. For Pete’s sake, you maudlin creature, surely you can agree that that fact makes this day far better than the eve of Culloden.
….but I didn’t expect to endure anything of the like again.
But now you *shall* endure it, Beauchamp. Now, you move on.
‘Move on?’ How?…. I can’t even move from this spot.
I blinked hard up at the ceiling, fists and teeth clenched, tears falling. “Damn you, Jamie, how did you bloody do this?”
He’d been so brave—so fucking brave in those final hours under this roof. He’d known that he must send me away, must do so because it was the best chance for me, for our child. He’d touched me; roused me; smiled for me; reassured me; joked and laughed, even, as best he could. He had been strong and HIMSELF, to the end.
And here I was
twenty-odd years later, leaving by the very same route for his sake, for his chance for a good and happy existence, just as genuinely assured in my conviction as he—falling apart.
How had he remained in one piece? How the bloody hell had he managed to say goodbye without even shedding a tear, damn him?
‘I would sleep once more this way—holding you, holding the babe.’
Because he had known for a fact that he would die the next morning. He wouldn’t have to live with that emptiness, with a broken heart, or so he had supposed; and so he’d kept his tears at bay because he knew I would. I had to go on, and so he’d rallied for my sake, presented himself to me as a man calm and at peace, so as not to make my task—my grief, the reality that I would have to be the one to walk away forever—any more excruciating than it already was.
So brave. Strong.
I would do the same for you, Jamie, if it fell to me. I hope I could be strong for you.
But if there were any grace that had been granted to me, in this final, broken chapter of our story, it was that I was spared having to look my love in the eye as I gave him up to a better life;
that I, at least, could let my tears fall freely.
A sudden draft stirred my flimsy skirt, bringing me sharply to awareness. I shivered against the frigid air, mindful through my disorientation of how sharply my knees ached. The light outside had shifted since I entered the cottage. The sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon, leaving only the dim grey-pink of November twilight.
Time, Beauchamp. Walk out the door. Only a quick walk up the hill, and it’s over. No sense in prolonging it any further.
It was time; and I found myself moving with purpose, though not toward the door.
There, at the back wall, in that opening where the boards had long since fallen away, I stood, silent and still. Snowflakes—scattered, sporadic— brushed my cheeks, but I paid them no heed.
The very last place I’d seen him; felt his touch; felt him within me.
The damp, rotten wood felt so soft and smooth under my bare palm. Warm. Living.
‘Name him Brian…for my father.’
“Come find me, will you?” I whispered to the wind, forcing a smile. “When we’re both gone into what comes after, c—”
My throat closed.
I pictured seeing the outline of a tall, etherial figure, in that after-place…and seeing his arm circle around the waist of a small woman; the both of them stretching their arms out toward two little girls, running to them.
Would he even see me?
‘I will find you….
“I shall hold you to it, Jamie Fraser.” I rubbed my thumb once over the plank. “Til then, my love.”
It was a much more strenuous climb than I remembered. The icy, twilight air stung my lungs as I gulped it down, the burning in my muscles only heightening the sensations of grief, of panic, of regret, and loss. I wanted to let myself fall, there on the slope, and weep, just sleep until I vanished into nothing.
But the thought of Bree’s face kept me going up that hill, step after aching step.
You’ll see her, soon.
Only a hundred yards more.
You’d prepared yourself to never see her again, and now you’ll have years and years
Ok so how about the RFA + v and unknown acting when there children are going though that rebellious teen phase
Author’s note: this has been in my drafts for a really long time whoops ♥
poor bby almost had a heart attack the first time his kid yelled at him
he’s the parent isn’t he supposed to be the one yelling ???
most of the time he’ll go and get MC
“MC, our kid just yelled at me what should I do??”
he’s just as new to parenting as you but he’s so cute about it
HE HAS READ ALL THE PARENTHOOD BOOKS
tries to act all dramaticbecause like father like daughter/son
of course he isn’t effected by this at all
“Is that the best you can do? I’m an actor; you need to CONVINCE me.”
“No buts! If you want to play the role of the bratty teenager, you’re going to need to work harder at it!” he’s more sassy than his kid tbh
well she’s had a lot of practice from being the RFA mom
but honestly Jaehee’s child doesn’t go through this phase
she just watches as the other RFA children go through it
“Hey mom, today at school Seven’s daughter flipped the teacher off.”
“Of course…what did you do?”
“Kept reading my book.”
literally lets everything slide
LIKE PUNISH THEM V THEY’RE BEING ANNOYING
although when his daughter came home with bright pink hair he couldn’t really say anything I mean what’s he gonna tell her? not to dye her hair a crazy color?? his hair is blue so his argument is invalid
he IS strict on curfew though
he gets really worried if they stay out too long because he just loves them and doesn’t want anything to happen to them
MC is gonna be the one scolding their child because Jumin just
wants to spoil them
however, if they ever raise their voice at MC
There is no doubt in my mind that he will SMACK THE LIFE OUT OF THAT CHILD
okayhe won’t smack them but they
will get a stern talking toyou need to RESPECT your
momma you little shit
he IS the
rebellious teen phase
you went out and got a piercing??? no way so did I
you gonna ignore me ??? too late I’ve been ignoring you since
YOU WERE BORN jk Saeran is a great dad
when he grounds his daughter, he doesn’t take away her electronics
he hacks into them
he will POST THINGS ON ALL OF HER SOCIAL MEDIA WEBSITES
send embarrassing selfies of him to her friends
any time she tries to call someone it ALWAYS links back to him
“Hey, I’m so-”
“Yup! You better get off your phone and study if you want me to stop texting your boyfriend baby pictures of you!!”
this was originally posted on reddit, then shared on gallifreybase - an insight into moffat’s writing process, which i found quite fascinating (especially considering how lowly [?] people think of the effort he puts into his scripts)
“Production Notes for Doctor Who Magazine #514: The Last Time Round - Steven Moffat tells us what happened the day he sent in his final script for Doctor Who“
Ok but like a soulmates plot where Muse A is this guy with messy hair and a love of flannels and combat boots and hates all things soulmates because his mom believed in it so much and all that got him was a dead beat missing father and a broken hearted mom. The second a name appeared on his 13th birthday, he covered it up and refused to look. And then he meets Muse B who is this soft spoken but firey ball of moonlight and he knows that she used to be sunshine and sundresses and mary janes and then a stupid ass jock broke her heart and now Muse B hides in to big sweaters and dirty converse and too much eyeliner. So despite having know idea why he has this urge to just like know her, Muse A befriends her and they start hanging out constantly and she’s just a wreck of getting drunk off wine coolers and hiding her tears in the sleeves of her sweaters and soon he falls hard. They sneak into parks and go to concerts and walks through the woods behind her house and he sees everything those assholes missed and he’s never hated anyone more than the man who broke her spirit. But with him suddenly she’s laughing again and smiling and just looking at him in those ways that make his fucking heart stop.But like he knows she’s too good for him and deserves so much more so he just swears to be her best friend, her anything. And one night when tucking her into bed after Muse B gets wasted and finally admits how much she’s been hurt, he sees it. Spots it while tucking sheets around ankles adorned with cute, kitschy socks. His name. Scrawled across skin and suddenly it all makes sense and holy fuck he actually loves this girl and the universe knows too. And then from there who knows???? I had a lot of Au emotions today fam.