i-need-this-like-burning

good things about the prequels
  • liam neeson
  • omg so many robots
    • literal war hero r2d2??
  • ewan mcgregor
    • the fact that he couldn’t stop making light saber noises
    • is he supposed to look so jesus-y or is it just a beautiful coincidence?
  • the literal one scene in phantom menace without any CGI
  • the music
    • @ john williams haters: FIGHT ME
  • “lost a planet, master obi-wan has. how embarrassing.”
  • christopher lee’s voice
  • “good call, my young padawan”
    • a line that was made to be giffed
  • yoda’s “i fuckin told u” face every time anakin does something dumb
  • hayden christensen’s hair, once he gets rid of that dumb braid
  • the complete lack of subtlety in character names
    • “count dooku” is the most evil name i have ever heard
    • “general grievous” and “lord sidious” are tied for second
    • “darth plagueis?” are you kidding?
  • that part where r2 screams and runs into the wall
  • like 5 whole seconds in revenge of the sith where everyone is happy
  • obi-wan abandoning cloaks wherever he goes
  • sometimes you just need a lil’ angst in your life

Finally finished this after butchering it on the first try. digital painting is NOT my strong suit, so i’m just not gonna worry about trying that style for now ~ w ~;


Bonus:

Sketch


Oh sweet beans what did I do to the colors and the face and the UGH D:

When Infinity War comes out if someone doesn’t make one of those dramatic AF and very emotional 10 Year Anniversary Videos of all the greatest moments of the MCU and it’s characters set to the wonderful epic fan video classic “How Far We’ve Come” by Matchbox Twenty I am going to be very disappointed in all of us, collectively, as a fandom.

My Creator, judge me whole:
Find me well within Your grace.
Touch me with fire that I be cleansed. 

Transfigurations 12:4

Buddy, repeatedly spamming me to ask for fanfic updates to the point where I have to remove 14 comments of your comments off of a fic within an hour—the final one demanding I “quit being a dick” and “just orphan the work already so someone capable and dedicated can finish it”—is one of the surefire ways to make sure I never update ever again and refuse to orphan any of it out of sheer visceral spite.

I’ll leave the whole body of work hanging there forever as an epitaph to the behavior of shitty people who killed my motivation to ever write free fun stuff for fandom ever again. And when Ao3 finally dies and we move on to somewhere else, I’ll copy paste the entire unfinished work and upload it, just for you.

How’s that for dedication.

You burn so bright, I see stars
The way that you laugh, it’s like a heavenly choir
You made me feel invincible
When you’re with me, I can take on the world

Say my name, I’ll be there
I didn’t know, you should’ve said that you cared
It’s not too late for broken hearts
Take my hand, make a wish on a star

You were a comet and I lost it
Watching for comets, will I see you again?
Everybody needs someone but they can’t feel like this
How can I breathe with this burning in my chest?
You were gone so fast, I want you back
You were a comet and I lost it

Now I see you, I’m frozen in time
All your colors burst into life
I don’t dare close my eyes
Cause a love like this happens once in a lifetime

Skillet - watching for comets

man if dreamworks really fucks up Lance’s story arc im gonna be so pissed i swear im going to write myself a story all about Lance and his development.

Lapidot shippers, May I have your attention, please? I have suddenly thought of a precious concept:

WALL-E but with Peridot as WALL-E and Lapis as EVE. They don’t even have to be robots since they’re already from space (but they totally can be). Just think about how well the dynamic would fit! Not to mention that I would kill to see them reenact this award-winning clip along with this heartwarming scene

Thank you for your time.

me reading the dear david twitter story whilst enjoying my lunch: oh my god this is so clearly a hoax, almost all of his “evidence” could easily be faked, and that is CLEARLY a doll in that last set of photos, he’s just doing this for publicity to sell his book, i can’t believe all these suckers are falling for it

me at 12:02 am in my room in the dark, hearing one (1) slight creak in the hallway: this is it, i have angered the spirit realm and dear david is coming to kill me

anonymous asked:

What about team nice dynamite playing surgeon simulator on a real person

Oh jeez that gets awfully bloody awfully quickly. It’s definitely  one of their nastier games, which considering who they are and what they’ve done is really saying something.

The idea is probably born in Caleb’s office. Michael’s grumbling his way through stitches, reluctantly laughing as Gavin makes a nuisance of himself while he waits, opening draws, playing with tools, theorising about what everything does, miming out increasingly disturbing looking operations until Caleb finally banishes him back to the waiting chair under the threat of a first-hand demonstration.

Still, the idea is planted and not even a week goes by before Michael and Gavin decide to rob a hospital, pick up a few tools of their own, and play doctor. They get everything from scrubs and gloves to speciality instruments and various medications, alongside a few of their own concoctions and no small number of personal knives. Their ‘surgery’ is an abandoned warehouse; not even one of Geoff’s, just somewhere private where no one will notice them making a mess. And boy do they make a mess.

Their first involuntary patient is a very bad man indeed, cruel and nasty and just generally lacking in heart. So they take his out. Dig around for a bit, surprised by the effort it takes to get through the ribcage, wondering at the sheer amount of blood, the various strange bits and pieces they rummage through, organs they examine then toss to the floor to continue their quest. Astonishingly the patient does not survive, but they manage to extract the heart before it stops beating so at the end of the day they call it a successful endeavour.

For the next sorry contestant, who had the misfortune of witnessing something he shouldn’t have and running his mouth in the wrong company, there is a very delicate eye surgery, followed by a far less delicate experimentation to determine which vaguely eye-shaped objects found laying around the penthouse would make the best replacements.

There’s a dirty cop working for the wrong gang whose night ends with his brain on the floor, a noisy thorn in Geoff’s side who involuntarily donates his kidneys to science, a brief foray into dentistry leaves a crook without their teeth, an arms-dealer who got a bit too touchy loses an arm, and in a move that’s more petty than anything else, a wanna-be conman who thought he could manipulate Gavin of all people gets to accidentally teach them just how quickly a person can bleed out when they’re missing their tongue. 

With all the compassion of serial-killers, the selfish amusement of egocentric children and the in-built bravado born from the unwavering support of a best friend the only end in sight for this awful new game is the inevitable moment Team Nice Dynamite gets bored and moves on to something else.

The rest of the FAHC doesn’t know what they’re up to in their spare time but have seen enough shared looks and whispered plans to know they’re doing something, have witnessed more than enough of that particular brand of nasty delight to know it’s something devastating. Still, when casual inquiry reveals nothing more than a pair of matching grins, somewhat secretive and entirely wicked, it’s generally agreed that it’s best to just sit back and wait for the mayhem to roll in.

Which is all well and good for a while, but eventually Jeremy and Ryan are bored enough, curious enough, nosey enough to give up on patience and track them down. It’s not particularly difficult, they’re not really hiding, but what has been seen cannot be unseen and Jeremy, for one, desperately wishes he’d left Ryan to investigate on his own. Ryan stands in silence, reaction hidden behind his mask though Jeremy fancies that there’s something upsettingly amused in the way he surveys what is undoubtably a makeshift surgery, eyes sharply interested as they flick around the room, to the blood on the floor, the walls, to the body on the table, the wailing heart-monitor and an IV bag filled with something oddly glittery.

Jeremy is feeling slightly less impartial. Maybe it’s just the surprise of it all; he was expecting another firework bomb, maybe a kidnapped cop or the makings of an elaborate prank, anything other than the cold, still, Dexter-like vibe of this particular undertaking. It’s almost too much, too disturbing, even with everything the FAHC have done, everything he himself has done. Perhaps it shouldn’t be, maybe it’s no worse, not really, but in the shock of landing in what looks like a horror movie torture room Jeremy can’t help but think that this is something else, that this is terrible.  

Then Gavin tears through, squawking up a storm and holding two eyeballs up over his head like they’re watching Michael, who’s roaring with laughter and whirling something pink and fleshy around like a lasso as he gives chase, and just like that the moment is thoroughly broken. Ryan snorts, turning on his heel and heading out the way he came but Jeremy can’t quite make himself leave, can’t even stay silent, not when Michael slides through something unnamable, wiping out into a tray of instruments and going down under a bombardment of misplaces organs like the worlds goriest slapstick routine.

The sound has Gavin finally catching sight of Jeremy, eyes widening in shock before he grins, wild and disastrous as he crows out a greeting, calling for the illustrious Doctor Dooley to come in and save him from the heavy-handed fumblings of Doctor Jones, and honestly at that point there’s really little else Jeremy can do but start looking around the room for a spare pair of gloves.