i hope at least someone will like this :)

2

Sage’s house was locked, of course, but locked doors have never been an obstacle for familiars on a quest. 

Bartholomew: Ah, it is at times like these that I really appreciate the potential usefulness of opposable thumbs. At least Sage is an organized one and her house isn’t a mess.

What he’s looking for is a picture of Darius. Of course, someone of his infamy has made it into the news of some supernatural communities, and his picture was in the papers. Bartholomew is hoping Sage has it somewhere.

It would’ve been useful if Sylvia did, he thinks. But it’s not like his charges’ mother would keep that slime’s photo anywhere within a mile of herself.

It’s all so stupid, he realizes. They told the kids to stay away from their grandpa but never showed them what he looks like. 

But it’s alright, after digging through Sage’s old papers (Bartholomew hopes she’s alright with them having some bite marks on them, it’s for a good cause), he finds exactly what he’s looking for.

Eurovision 2K17: Graham Norton's Best Bits

“It’s a grey, damp night outside so there’s a faint smell of wet dog in the arena.”

“So, the theme this year is celebrating diversity, so let’s see who they’ve got to host… Oh, it’s three white men. Well done.”

“I can’t mock the jacket because… I’ve worn worse.”

“Timur is a personality powerhouse.”

“They’re excellent at speaking at the same time, they’ve cracked that.”

“Her brother will be fiddling with her on stage tonight.”

“Nathan Trent is actually his stage name. His real name is… Very difficult.”

“If you think my job’s hard, check out the guy pretending to play the saxophone for three minutes.”

“I should tell you, the Union Jack just fell off the wall in the commentary room. Hope it’s not an omen.”

“Nothing’s gone wrong. This was planned.”

“By the way, don’t worry, he hasn’t bought his mother’s ashes onstage with him. It’s actually a mini milk churn, which- who knew- could double as a musical instrument. Well, I say musical.”

“By the way, there hasn’t been a stage invasion. The woman is a professionally trained dancer. She is meant to be there.”

“The dancer trying to hide there. Who can blame her?”

“Inside that gorilla is Italy’s leading choreographer.”

“If you’re going to dress someone as a gorilla, at least get a decent costume. It looks like two carseat covers sewn together.”

“She was born and raised there (Australia). Moved to Denmark… Suspiciously recently.”

“There is so much love in this room.”
“Not for you, Alex.”

“Stop.”

“And you keep thinking, ‘oh, this will make sense in a moment’ and… No…”

“She very kindly gave us some promotional chalk. I’ll be taking that home.”

“Ironically, for a man singing a song called ‘My Friend’, he doesn’t seem to have any.”

“Song 14 is Australia. Let’s not get into it.”

“My only piece of advice would be don’t start looking at his eyebrows unless you don’t want to stop”

“Does he advertise car insurance?”

“It’s got lots of things euro fans will enjoy: a beautiful woman, a stonking disco beat, and two half-naked men splashing around in a paddling pool.”

“Ooo. Some dodgy notes in there. I wonder if something’s gone wrong technically… Or maybe he’s just not great.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be singing but he stepped into the breach when the original singer… Came to his senses.”

“Comedy alert, ladies and gentleman.”

“Now… If I say this song is rap meets yodelling…”

“She claims to be the only yodeller in Romania. Probably because the others don’t talk about it. It’s the first rule of Yodel Club.”

“She splits her time between Berlin and London, so if you think you know her, you’ve probably seen her waiting for a bus or something.”

“Eurovision fans know it’s a long wait for the competition.” “A year. It’s a year, Timur.”

“The next thing you’ll ask is… How can three minutes be this long?”

“I just hope she enjoys it (performing) a bit more than she appears to.”

“This boy is a boy.”

“He’s literally just turned 17. He was born in this century.”

“We’ve done it, ladies and gentleman. This is song 26.”

“Terrific graphics, though. Mind you, if we’re looking at the graphics, something’s gone terribly wrong, hasn’t it.”

“Verka and her mother. I think it’s the same mother she had in 2008, we can’t be sure.”

“She (Verka) has already started drinking tonight.”
“Oh, I can believe that.”

“If zombies did aerobics, it’d look a bit like this.”

“Two hundred million people… Are watching this.”

“This is quite torturous. A very long minute.”

*gasp* “I smell charisma.”

“I shared a urinal with John Ola Sand earlier. I didn’t talk to him…. Thought best not to.”

“Look at us, on the left hand side of the scoreboard.”

“Do you think she gave the other half of her jacket to the man from Croatia?”

“This is like an international version of First Dates.”

“They’re like the muppets with accents.”

We all know that Hoth was a simmering mess of hormones and stress and I would pay good money for a soap opera about them. Here are some things which Definitely Happened: 

  • There’s a betting pool going on who takes Luke’s virginity. The favourites are Han and Leia, but Wedge Antilles has pretty good odds, and there’s a small contingent of aliens who are convinced it will be Chewie (after all, who could resist that Wookie musk? Headcanon: most alien races consider humans soft and gross. Most alien races find Wookies absurdly attractive. Han Solo isn’t the ladykiller; Chewie is.)
  • Leia and Han scream at each other in every corner of the base. Everyone is desperate for them to fuck. They do not. The sexual tension is so thick that it could be cut into blocks and sold as wall insulation. More than once they are ‘accidentally’ locked in a supply cupboard in the vain hope that claustrophobia will act as the catalyst that enables their frustration to spark into true love – or at least nasty raunchy cupboard sex. It does not. All that happens is that the offender has legally changed their name to escape the Wrath of Organa. 
  • Someone paints a shirtless Han Solo on their X Wing. Leia is furious. Han is delighted: both at the highly flattering portrait (he has an eight-pack, he is shredded) and at Leia’s fury (you’re jealous princess/no I am not/you’re jealous, hey I can pose like that for you if you –). Hoth’s winter had nothing on the chilly silence that followed that suggestion. 
  • Luke and Leia both have very graphic dreams about Han Solo. Han Solo has very graphic dreams about the twins –  individually, together, he’s thirty fucking years old, why is his brain doing this to him.(Later on they will, individually, realise that due to Luke and Leia’s Force-bond they probably created a circle of Han Solo Sex Dreams: Leia had them, so Luke sensed her lust for Han which intensified his own lust for Han, which led to Luke having Han Solo sex dreams, which led to Leia lusting – and so on, and so on. For the sake of their sanity, they never share this revelation which each other.)
  • Luke is SO COLD. All the time. WHY DOES NO ONE APPRECIATE HOW COLD HE IS. He comes from a desert world. Of course he’s cold! What is all this white stuff? It was pretty for the first fve seconds but holy fucking Force it is so cold it burns and what the hell is going on with that? He bundles himself up in so many layers that he waddles rather than walks. Fearsome Last of the Jedi indeed.
  • Luke tapes a knife to a cleaning droid (disc-shaped things that swish around the base, sucking up dirt) and names it Stabby. Why, says Leia. Luke, the boy from Tatooine, shining and happy despite everything says why not. Why not indeed. Stabby is very fond of chasing Han. Han wants desperately to shoot the fucking thing– but then he sees big-eyed Luke and sharp-toothed Leia cooing over it and, well. A little bit of light stabbing is nothing, compared to those two smiling. 
The signs as science memes

Aries:

Taurus:

Gemini:

Cancer:

Leo:

Virgo:

Libra:

Scorpio:

Sagittarius:

Capricorn:

Aquarius:

Pisces:

Compilation of some of my favorite dialogues from the BNHA manga.

I really hope all of these make it into the anime, cause they’re all comedy gold. 

Bakugou: Heh, kid thinks he’s an adult.
Todoroki: reminds me of someone I know….
Bakugou: AH? HE’S NOTHING LIKE ME! AT LEAST I DON’T KEEP ALL MY EMOTIONS PENT UP INSIDE LIKE A CERTAIN SOMEONE!
Todoroki: relax… it was a joke. 

Yaoyorozu: The more I consume, the more I can create.
Sero: kinda like poop
[Jirou punches Sero in the face]

Bakugou: KING OF EXPLODOKILLS
Midnight: I’d suggest trying something different for your hero name…that’s not gonna slide….
Bakugou: fine.
Bakugou: BARON OF EXPLODOKILLS
Midnight: Again…not gonna slide.
Kirishima: How about Blasty McSplode!?!

Shouji: I’ll tell you now…I don’t have anything interesting in my room…
Mina: …more like you don’t have anything PERIOD!!!
Todoroki: ….Is this what they refer to as “minimalist”?

[Yaoyorozu offers to tutor people]
Kirishima: [to Bakugou] Talk about a gap in personal virtue
Bakugou: I’m plenty virtuous too fuckmunch!! Why don’t I tutor you till you’re a puddle of blood?!?
Kirishima: Ohh i’ll take you up on that! 

Todoroki: Bakugou, what are you going to do about the provisional license supplementary lessons?
Bakugou: THAT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS
Todoroki: Well then, I’ll leave you to your cleaning. Enjoy!!
Bakugou: DAMN IT!!!

Keep reading

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sisters so beautiful they reduce the self esteem of everyone who meets them

2

Don’t stop walking…★

LOST PARAKEET

Hey guys, I found this posting on Craigslist and received permission from the owners to cross post this. 

If you or someone you know is in the Wichita, Kansas area, please be on the lookout for a lost parakeet.  12 year old “Charlie” escaped his travel box sometime yesterday (3/19) in the vicinity of Greenwich and Pawnee.  Coloring is gray with blue/pink chest and stomach (picture embedded)  No band. The wind yesterday was blowing south-southeast anywhere from 10 to 25 miles an hour, and today south-southeast at approximately 12 mph plus bursts.  Not sure where that would put him by now. 

Owners are distraught and offering 50 dollar reward but the bird is priceless to them.  His bondmate is extremely distressed, I was given permission to list the owners number for texting, so if anyone does happen to spot him, please notify Jay and Em at (316) 258-8193.  Please take a photograph, even if you can’t trap or coax him down, that will at least keep their hopes alive of getting him back.  Jay is disabled and Charlie is his therapeutic companion bird. 

If you don’t live near here, please reblog this in the hope of finding someone who is.  The desperation in Em’s messages is absolutely devastating, this bird is their precious baby.  If, like I do, you follow any fellow birblr you can get your hands on, you know there has been loss today.  Please help this couple hope there won’t be more.

I crave a loving and genuine relationship because I’ve yet to be part of one. I’ve always been the one that gives the most and I’ve always chosen the people that give the least. I so desperately want to know what it’s like to love someone that loves you just as much and not just because of what you can do for them or how much you can provide. I hope that one day someone comes along and fills those needs.

The Kissing Booth

A SnowBaz fanfiction


Simon

Once a year, usually in the spring, Watford stages a carnival for the students.  It’s usually quite humble, mainly consisting of booths selling small magic trinkets, or snacks like cotton candy, sweets and other classic carnival fare.  There’s always the tiny petting zoo over near the Cloisters, and some years Watford even scrapes enough together to bring in a carousel.  Most of the booths are run by student volunteers, and though everything is by donation, all proceeds go to whichever charity the student body has voted on.

           I go every year, mostly for the caramel apples and sweet cider, but this is the first year I’ve been behind the scenes of the carnival and helped at a booth.

           In truth, I didn’t even sign up for it, but Agatha hadn’t had a break all day and needed some cotton candy of her own.

           I should have told her to find Penny, or Trixie or even Minty.  Anyone but me.

           It doesn’t take long for the word to spread that Simon Snow has taken over the Kissing Booth, and mortifyingly the line has doubled in length.  Mostly first or second-year girls, blushing and stammering or swaggering up to the counter with a pronounced sway in their step, with the odd boy interspersed through the line.

           It’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me – that honour goes to the time in second year that Baz stumbled upon a spell that made my clothes slowly dissipate, garment by garment, in the middle of the dining hall – and after the first two or three quick, cold kisses I start to calm down, but I’m counting the minutes until Agatha comes back.  How she endured hours of this, I cannot comprehend.  That’s just Agatha, I guess.

           A redhead drops her donation into the tin and her eyes flit around, meeting me for only a split second at a time, her cheeks aflame.  I try to look as non-threatening as I can and lean forward enough that she can close the rest of the space.  She darts in with a kiss that’s no more than a peck before running over to a giggling pair of who must be her friends, a triumphant grin on her face. She must have been dared.  Poor girl.  I hope I wasn’t her first.

           “Well, well, well.”

           My stomach lurches at the cold drawl I know only too well.

           “What are you doing here, Baz?” I say in as civilized a tone as I can manage.

           He stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, his mouth in a twist that’s a bit too amused to be a sneer.  “When I heard that the Chosen One had taken over the Snogging Booth, I simply had to see it for myself.”

           “Well, now you’ve seen it, so now you can go.”

           “Saving the World of Mages one kiss at a time,” Baz murmurs with a chuckle.  “Not exactly what I was envisioning.”

           “I’m only covering for Agatha,” I retort, “she’ll be back in five minutes if you’re wanting her services.”

           He scoffs.  “I’d rather not snog your girlfriend, thank you very much.”

           “She’s not my – forget it,” I shake my head.  I’ve told him at least a dozen times, but it never stops him.

           “She must have been really desperate for a break to put you in charge,” Baz drawls on, his voice smooth like honey but with too much of a bite to be sweet.  “You’d think she’d at least pick someone attractive for the Kissing Booth.”

           It stings, but I don’t flinch.  “What, someone like you?” I spit back too fast.

           His eyebrows shoot up in delighted surprise as I realize my mistake.  “You flatter me, Snow,” he purrs, and I feel my cheeks heat up, but I furrow my brow tighter and hope it passes for anger.

           “Is there a reason you’re still here?” I growl as the burning spreads from my cheeks to my ears.  

           “As a matter of fact, there is,” Baz says, and his gray eyes look cool enough to staunch the flames at the tips of my ears, but the more I glare into them the more the fire rages.  “I’m here to torment you.”

           “Great, well you’ve done that.”

           “I wanted to see what you’d do.”  He leans on the edge of the counter, bringing his face far too close to mine for comfort. “What would the Mage’s Heir do if his nemesis showed up at the Kissing Booth?”

           “You can torment me any time,” I shoot back, “you’re holding up the line.”

           “Oh, yes, well,” he feigns conern, “I wouldn’t want to keep anyone from their kiss.”

           “Then go away.”

           His eyes narrow and he pretends to think.  “Mmm, no.  I don’t think so.”

           “Baz, I’m warning you.”

           “Terrifying,” he drones, “but this is too much fun.  Besides,” his eyebrow flickers up, “don’t you owe me a kiss?”

           I flash him a smirk of my own.  “Aw, Baz. If you were so desperate for a kiss, you could’ve just asked.”

           Baz, to his credit, doesn’t bat an eye.  “You think of that comeback yourself?”

           “There’s a fee, you know,” I ignore him, barely having to raise my voice above a murmur for him to hear me, he’s so close.  “You haven’t paid the fee, so I don’t owe you anything.”

           He doesn’t drop his eyes from mine, and the cool gray takes on the spark of a challenge.  Out of my periphery I see him reach into his pocket, and there’s the clatter of coins dropping into the tin.

           I should punch him.

           I should spit in his face.

           I wanted to see what you’d do.

           I take him by the lapels and crush his mouth under mine.

           He makes a muffled sound of shock.  To be fair, so do I, but mine is more angry than it is surprised.  I kiss him hard and rough, and it’s a bit of a juxtaposition because his mouth is oddly soft.  A face like his, you’d expect his lips to be made of marble, cold and unmoving, but he’s the farthest thing from unmoving.  I can’t tell if he’s struggling or if he’s kissing me back but his lips are so, so soft and I want to bruise them, mark them, bite them…

           I only stop when a series of wolf whistles reminds me that there are at least ten people watching us.

           Trying to salvage the illusion of control, I break away harshly, still gripping him by his collar.  The cocky smirk has dropped from his smooth features and now his face mirrors mine, a matching scowl, like I’ve crossed a dangerous line.  I probably have.

           “Was that what you wanted?” I growl.

           He doesn’t answer, just holds my gaze another few seconds before pushing back from the table, his lapels slipping out of my hands, and stalking away.

*** 

I don’t see Baz at the carnival after that, and I stay as long as the booths are open, perusing the same counters and feigning interest even after having looked through their contents three times.  I keep Penny company where she mans the popcorn booth, drizzling caramel over every few cartons, and I even get bored enough to hang around Agatha back at the Kissing Booth for a little while, until one too many patrons have asked if I’m available for service.  When she and Penny are freed we pet the goats at the petting zoo, the ones that Ebb has graciously volunteered for the event, and take a few spins on the carousel.  Only once the light has begun to fade and the signs are being lowered from their booths do the three of us part ways.  Even then, I offer to help Ebb get her goats back safely.

           Basically, I’m doing anything I can to put off going back to the room, but eventually I can’t avoid it any longer.  I’ve wandered the grounds enough times that the sun has properly disappeared behind the distant hills and I can barely see the ground in front of me. Even then I’m tempted to consider crazy alternatives like spending the night at Ebb’s place, but I’m pretty sure that would be against school rules anyway, and besides, I’ll have to face Baz eventually.  There’s no undoing what’s happened.

           When I finally trudge back into the room, he’s staring out the window at the moat, presumably trying to intimidate the merwolves, but he turns at the sound of the door.  His expression, though I don’t see it for long before I look away, is hard to read. Wide eyes and a furrowed brow, like he’s still mad at me for my stunt earlier, but there’s a bit of a questioning edge there, too.  Almost a where were you edge.

           Normally I have to start any type of conversation, but tonight he wastes no time. “What the hell was that, Snow?”

           There’s no question as to what he’s referring, and I can’t help but get angry again.  “Me? You’re the one who had to start something!”

           “Well, you didn’t have to react so drastically,” he mutters, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall by the window, the moonlight casting its glow on his skin and making him even paler than usual, almost transparent.  I half expect fangs to slide out from his lips for no reason and complete the picture.

           His soft, soft lips.

           “You were egging me on,” I seethe, the memory igniting the rage that I’d felt in the fractured moment before kissing him, “it’s your fault anything happened.”

           “Proud little hero,” Baz says with the slightest smirk, “can’t back down from a challenge.”

           “You know I can’t, not in front of people.”

           “Wouldn’t want them to think the Heir is a coward.”

           I feel like a balloon in me is swelling and deflating at once.  “But that’s just it, Baz,” I insist, anger momentarily aside.  “If they think I’m afraid, what reason do they have to hope?”

           He doesn’t answer right away, and for a second I think maybe he understands. I want so badly for him to understand.

           “No reason,” Baz eventually says, turning to look out the window again, “not with someone like you as the Chosen One.”

           I want to groan, to kick something, to shake him by the shoulders and make him look me in the eye and for once not fight me.  Have we ever in our lives made eye contact without there being some challenge between us?

           “Why did you have to get in that line?” I shake my head.  “There are so many other ways of tormenting me, lower-stakes ways.”

           “To be fair, I’ve already exhausted most of those,” Baz murmurs with a little shrug of his shoulders.

           “When have you ever been fair?”

           “Touché.”

           I’m tired of standing here at the door, so I kick off my shoes and sit down on my bed, trying not to think about how much closer I am to him now, still at the window, looking as vampiric as ever.  His gray eyes are positively silver in the moonlight, and the black of his hair looks silkier than ever, as if it’s soaking the rays directly into him. He almost glows.  I have to laugh a little, because more than once Baz has mockingly compared me, with my bronze curls and sky-blue eyes, to the sun, but he himself wears a halo of night.  If I am the sun, then Baz is most certainly the moon.  Distant, cold, mysterious, almost too pristine to touch.

           His gaze returns to me suddenly.  He raises an eyebrow in a wordless inquiry, and I realize I’ve been staring.

           “What exactly was it you expected me to do?”

           “At what point, Snow?” he gives a humourless laugh.  “You had more than one opportunity to react.”

           “When you paid the fee.”

           His tiny smile disappears.  “It doesn’t matter.”

           “It does.”

           “Drop it, Snow,” he says, the hardness returning to his eyes, and I know I’ve cornered him.  Drop it is Baz’s way of betraying himself, of saying there’s something that he doesn’t want to tell.

           “Was I supposed to kiss you?” I ask.  For some reason I have to know.

           “No.”

           “Then what?”

           “I don’t know, Snow, punch me.  Push me. Beat me to the ground.  Something.”

           My brow furrows in confusion.  “Wait. You wanted me to hit you?”

           He shrugs, more with his head than his shoulder.  “One of us has to get hurt, right?”

           I rise to my feet, and I’m face-to-face with him again, only his eyes are different this time.  Whereas at the booth he had betrayed no hint of doubt at our closeness, now there’s a flicker of something in the silver, something that feels a lot like the way my heart is racing in my chest, and it dawns on me.  He was putting on a show at the carnival, acting like nothing I could do would get to him, just as I had been.

           If they think I’m afraid, what reason do they have to hope?

           One of us has to get hurt, right?

           And suddenly it makes sense.

           There’s only a few inches between us, so it feels almost natural when I lean in and press the gentlest of kisses to his lips.

           He doesn’t kiss me back this time, but he doesn’t move away either.  “What was that for?” he asks when I draw back a second later.

           “You act like we’re so different,” I say wonderingly, “but we’re the same.”

           “How?”

           “What do you think we’d be if we didn’t have to fight each other?”

           I don’t miss the split second of longing in his eyes.  “Keep dreaming, Snow.”

           “Because I bet it would involve a lot more of this.”  I bring a hand up to his neck, my fingers instantly lost in the wavy tips of his hair and it’s exactly as soft as it looks bathed in moonlight.

           Baz closes his eyes like he has to collect himself.  “You’re the hero.  I’m the villain.  What more do I have to say?”

           “Fuck that,” I chuckle, “we both know that’s not true.  You’re a boy, and I’m a boy.  That’s all.”

           “Tell that to the rest of the world.”

           “I don’t care about the rest of the world,” I shake my head adamantly, “I want to know what you think.”    

           “About what?”

           “If there was no act, no reputation, no role to play,” I murmur, “if we were just two boys, what would you do?”

           Baz returns my gaze a moment, searching my eyes.    

           Then his lashes close and he’s kissing me, and my eyes drift shut again like I’m sighing in relief.

           I let my fingers tangle higher up in his hair while my other hand grips the front of his shirt like earlier, only without the anger of the afternoon.  He angles his head further and guides the kiss deeper, his hands gently gripping my waist and pulling me closer.  I melt against him, my mouth moving with his, my head swimming with his citrusy scent, and I can’t hold back the moan that escapes my throat when he takes my bottom lip between his teeth in a gentle tug. Suddenly I’m floating, weightless, and Baz gives a muffled sound of surprise when I press back a little harder.

           When we finally break apart, both of us gasping and dizzy, I immediately want more, want to line his neck with my mouth, want to feel his breath hitch when I reach the base of his throat, want to hear my name in his sigh.  Would he sigh Snow or Simon?  I want to know.

           “Please,” I whisper, dotting a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “can’t we just be two boys?”

           When I meet his eyes, they’re full of more longing than ever.

           In response, he kisses a soft, slow triangle pattern on my cheek, and I recognize the pattern of the three moles by my eye, and I can’t help but smile.

“We can try.”

Some Highlights from “The Music of Rogue One” Panel at SWCO17 (aka the panel that blew my mind)

So since I can’t find any filmed version of the “Music of Rogue One” panel with David W. Collins I’ll post some of the highlights here. I’m a music theory nerd myself but I was surrounded by people who have never paid attention to music analysis and were still moved to tears so I encourage everyone to check this out (and watch the panel please if it’s ever made available.)

  • the Panel began with Collins discussing the legacy of John Williams and the Star Wars main theme specifically. He discussed how it was originally meant to be Luke Skywalker’s theme, and how that interpretation can still hold true considering Star Wars is the Skywalker Saga
  • The coolest thing pointed out re the main theme is that it’s musical construction mirrors the structure of the Hero’s Journey, the monomyth structure that all of Star Wars revolves around. It rises suddenly with the call to adventure, then builds with the journey, drops during the abyss, is reborn with another musical rise, then returns to the beginning. Collins emphasized that Williams is without a doubt a musical genius and that Michael Giacchino had a big challenge in making a score that lived up to William’s legacy while standing on it’s own. This was a challenge he more than met, as this panel made clear.
  • Now moving on to Rogue One, Collin’s discussed the title theme “Hope.” This theme is clearly heard over the title of the film, during Jyn’s big speech to the Rebellion, and throughout the film.
  • Collins pointed out that, like the main Star Wars theme, “Hope” echos the structure of the film itself. There are heroic major key moments in the theme, but it ends in a melancholy way that almost sounds unfinished. It represents the sacrifice at the center of the film. This is a story of incredible heroism that merely paves the way for others to finish the journey. 
  • Collins moved on to discuss the musical themes for each character in Rogue One, with a lot of focus on Jyn’s theme. Jyn’s theme is the most frequently heard piece along with “Hope” in the film. In fact, we hear it three times in the film’s prologue alone.
  • The fascinating thing Collins pointed out is Giacchino’s use of Dies Irae throughout the score. Dies Irae, or Day of Wrath, is the medieval hym describing the end of the world. It is sung during funeral masses and musically is quoted widely to represent death
  • EVERY CHARACTER THEME IN ROGUE ONE IS STRUCTURED AROUND DIES IRAE. Jyn, Chirrut, Baze, even Krennic, ALL OF THEM
  • Giacchino was signaling from the beginning that this is a story about death. He wrote the sacrifice of these characters right into their themes.
  • A notable use of Dies Irae beyond character themes is it’s repetition as Cassian and Jyn begin to climb the tower in the archive during the climax. The first two notes of Dies Irae are repeated as they do so. When Krennic walks down the hallway with his Death Troopers, all three notes play (death literally chasing them). And when Jyn almost drops, than catches the data tapes, Dies Irae is replaced by “Hope”
  • Jyn’s theme in particular is a melancholy theme centered on Dies Irae, but with a lovely, lullaby like feeling. It tells you from the beginning that Jyn’s is a story of hope and inspiration but also death and sacrifice.
  • An interesting use of Jyn’s theme and “Hope” together is during Jyn’s speech to the Rebellion. First we here “Hope” swell as Jyn speaks to the Rebels. Then when her speech is shot down, the theme drops, replaced by Jyn’s theme. This represents that it is Jyn herself who inspires the sacrifice that will eventually bring on the Hope. Jyn is the hope.
  • Another mind blowing moment was a musical parallel that Collins pointed out with the character of Bodhi Rook. In the scene where he recalls his mission, repeating “I’m the pilot, I brought the message,” listen for the flutes. That exact same flute theme plays in A New Hope when Luke discovers Leia’s message hidden in R2. By doing this,  Giacchino is directly mapping the journey of “the message.” Bodhi receives the message of the Death Star and how it can be destroyed from Galen, he brings it to Jyn, who with Rogue One, transmit the message, which ends up in the hands of Leia, then to R2, then to Luke, who must return it to the Rebellion. Those flutes represent the origin of the message with Bodhi through to A New Hope.
  • This panel was full of mind blowing moments, but the most mind blowing moment by far was another musical connection to A New Hope. After we had become very familiar with Jyn’s theme over the course of the panel, Collin’s played a scene from A New Hope for us. It was the moment when Obi-Wan asks Luke to come with him to Alderaan and Luke resists. When Obi-Wan says he’s getting too old for this sort of thing, Jyn’s theme plays clearly under Luke’s hesitation. In the original context, a hint of Dies Irae was WIlliam’s way of foreshadowing Obi-Wan’s death, but after Giacchino used that musical queue to build Jyn’s theme, it suddenly has deeper meaning. It’s Jyn’s sacrifice calling to Luke, compelling him to be the hope she fought for. And it is connecting Obi-Wan’s eventual sacrifice with that of Jyn and her comrades.  
  • Collins also highlighted how Giacchino’s score for the final moments of the film, from Jyn’s confrontation with Krennic through the arrival of Vader and the death of Jyn and Cassian, is unconventional and incredibly effective. Jyn’s confrontation with Krennic is silent, no music, unexpected for such a key moment. Only when Cassian appears does the music return. And throughout the final sequence, as we witness horrifying destruction, death. the arrival of the Death Star and Vader’s Star Destroyer, the score stays distant, gentle, melancholy. It does not highlight the horror. It steps back and mourns over it, like the eyes of history or the Force itself, honoring the sacrifice. 
  • So yeah Giacchino’s score for Rogue One is brilliant, Williams’ music for Star Wars is brilliant, this panel was brilliant, and I can never get enough of analyzing Star Wars scores.
2

Compilation doodles + Name explanations for the OC kids in the YOI Future!verse ABO AU

^ Literally the above, because I thought WAY too hard about these for legit months (the twins were conceived in my mind back in DECEMBER and Arisa in January >.>;;) and I want to rant about my reasoning for all of them. :P

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IF YOU ARE NEW TO THIS AU: It’s Yuuri-centric polyamory in an ABO setting, Yuuri’s married to four mates (Victor, Yurio, Phichit, Minami) and the above are their kids.

BASICS of this AU

INTRO to how ABO works in this AU

OTHER POSTS (comics + illustrations) in the Future!Verse ABO section of my YOI Masterpost.

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Please keep ship bashing out of the comments/tags. Don’t like, just skip <3 Thank you.

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PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT PERMISSION. More detailed rules available on my Rules & FAQ Post.

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DISCLAIMER: I don’t know any Russian or Thai and my info comes from not-so-trustworthy Google-sensei though I did my best to triple check from multiple sources including non-English ^ ^; I am however native and fluent in both Japanese and English and also consulted a Japanese linguist regarding my kanji choices ^ ^; If I made any mistakes please be gentle, and also understanding that this is a low-stress self-indulgent near-crack AU >.>;;;

Onwards! vvv

Keep reading

2

I’m glad so far I got Olivia and Inigo, hope to get at least this mysterious Lady too who has mysteriously the same name as Azura for some reason hmm

So I felt like creating PSS icons of these hot dancers, they are free to use as icons if someone is interested!
my PSS icon collection is here

5

Reader x Father!Klaus

Requested by Anon

Part One   Part Two  Part Three  Part Four


You slowly trudged up the drive, boots unlaced, shoulder bag heavy with spell books and exotic spell ingredient. You didn’t want to be back here, but Kol and Davina were heading somewhere dangerous and until they knew it was safe they didn’t want you to go.

Just a week you told yourself, a week and Stefan would come to get you. You’d met the Salvatore’s in Italy, Damon had taught you the language fluently while Stefan taught you to dance and showed you around the old buildings when Davina and Kol were busy.

“Well look who’s here.” Klaus hummed as soon as you walked in.

“Where’s Rebekah?” You asked as he leant against the wall.

Keep reading

The Snicket Siblings.

It was the day after a tedious and dangerous mission. Like the troublesome lad he is, Lemony did something that blurs the line between bravery and stupidity, prompting Jacques to save him; leaving Kit to finish the job (but thanks to Lemony, the mission was a success). She was nimble enough to only receive a bruise.

A/N: This is pre-ATWQ, Lemony is 9 and the duo’s either 11 or 12. I hoard papers filled with my sketches and art, and I like to project that hoarding through the Siblings but to them it’s of information. I apologize for the terrible color and quality though, I only have two shades of grey and either one is too dark or too light to be seen.

There’s a lot allusions here, if you can find them. I try to fit in as much as I can (many are from ATWQ).

(Bad news volunteers, majority of the allusions didn’t cut it because my mobile camera’s pixels aren’t enough to show it clearly. Will post maybe another one that has better quality.)

anonymous asked:

(not an art request) What are your thoughts on Malachite? I particularly love her design and I think she's one of the cutest fusions but I dislike what she represents as a relationship. (I thought about asking you this because your text post about why you like Jasper was really insightful and well explained.)

HMMM this is quite a difficult question…

i absolutely LOVE malachite’s design and i think its rad as hell first off. the colors are gorgeous, her short fluffy hair, THOSE MENACING TEETH, the placement of the stripes and swirls on her body, all very good things. shes quite interesting to look at and watching her move and fight is fascinating

buuuut. yeah, ultimately what she represents is a hideous, unhealthy, and to be quite frank, abusive relationship. i know not everyone sees the relationship as abusive, and i respect their interpretation of it, but when i look at the situation it reads loud and clear as abuse to me. its been explicitly said numerous times that jasper was held against her will and tortured by lapis under the ocean for months in malachite. lapis herself even admits she was terrible to jasper and liked taking everything out on her.

the worst part to me is that jasper thinks she deserves the abuse. thats why she was trying to convince lapis to fuse with her again. she’s alone and desperate for any way to make up for her perceived failure on a planet she already has complicated feelings about after having failed her mission and being defeated by the crystal gems on multiple occasions. she needs to do SOMETHING to succeed and thus establish self-worth, and if that means hurting herself in the process she thinks its not only worth it, but well deserved as atonement for her previous failures. 

so tl;dr, i love malachites design and shes absolutely stunning to look at and watch move, but i hate everything she represents and the situation that she came about from. 

on a somewhat related note, SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP JASPER LOL help her realize shes worth so much more than she thinks she is!!! liiike maybe somebody who knows a little something about learning her self-worth and about helping and loving quartzes 

Third Wheel

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: angst, a little self-loathing, self-doubt, depressive thoughts (?)

Word count: 787

Summary: The reader feels like the third wheel and makes a harsh decision.

A/N: I hope you guys like this and if you do please please please leave some feedback.

Sam and Dean Winchester would die for you. They would die for a lot of people. If there was the tiniest chance that they could save someone, risking their lives would be the least of their worries. They we’re the most selfless people you had ever met.

But there was one thing. One specific thing that could make them into the most selfish person you had ever come across. You had seen it happen multiple times.

Dying for someone, that they could do. But living without one another? That’s where their selflessness came to an end.

Keep reading

Mental health month

I am dealing with depression right now, and I’m not at my best to give advice, but I really think that this thought can help others like it helps me:
I don’t know if you have read the Harry Potter series or watched the movies( you really should) but they show a concept with the dementors that’s pretty easy to read: they represent depression. When they kiss you, is like when you have a sudden fall into sadness and you just cry and cry, maybe hurt yourself. What jk Rowling says is that a single happy thought( a patronus) can drive all of that away, at least for a while. Maybe it’s from a long time ago, or it’s not even yours ( reading a book series, for example), but it can stop the sadness for a while, shut it down. Plus, a little chocolate can help too.
I hope this helped someone, or at least gave you a peek of what it feels like.
🖤

Easy, Transportable Needle Storage

I know I’ve seen the question of “how should I store my (especially circular and double pointed) knitting needles?” asked dozens of times. It’s also a question I’ve asked myself, and have tried a few different methods. This is my newest one, and I’m feeling pretty good about it so far. It’s pretty cheap, easy to transport, and totally re-sortable. All it requires is duct tape, plastic bags, and a binder.

My mom has hers in one of those over-the-door shoe organizers. I think that’s such a great idea, but as someone who’s in a much more transitional period of life, I wanted one that could move with me. My previous method was a roll-up with eyelets I knit. I liked it, but it would be difficult to reorganize, didn’t really accommodate my circulars well, and could be easily outgrown.

Thus, I started thinking I could buy a bunch of pencil pouches and putting my needles in them in a binder. But when I looked into it, pencil pouches are not as cheap as I’d hoped. I was thinking of getting 20, and they were going to cost at least a couple dollars per each one. But then my mom suggested hole punching ziploc bags instead, and I thought that was a great idea! So here’s how I put together this needle storage, which I imagine works great for double pointed needles, circular needles, and crochet needles, among other things.

These are the supplies I used:

A binder (I chose a fun colourful 1.5″ one with elastic ties, but any is probably fine) (if I was redoing this, though, I might choose a 2 prong one instead), duct tape (I decided on three colours, but you could certainly do this with regular cheap duct tape), plastic bags (I wanted ones with the sliders), and a 3 hole punch.

First, lay out a strip of duct tape, and lay the plastic bag on half the tape. The duct tape makes it easier to hole punch and makes the holes much stronger and less likely to rip.

Cut the tape and fold it over along the bag.

Hole punch the duct-taped edge. Since the bags I chose were only long enough for two holes, I alternated between holes on the top and holes on the bottom.

Then you can pop the bag in the binder.

Then I labelled each bag with a sharpie and put the needles in.

I decided to have one bag per size, except I did a separate bag for double pointed needles and circulars. Other than that, I just put it in order. If I get any new needles, I can make a new bag and put it in the right place.

Ta-da!

Now I have my needles all organized, accessible, and transportable. :)