n's theme

hm,,,. I know roddenberry did not care for religion but u cannot divorce judiasm from star trek .. leonard nimoy and william shatner were BOTH very jewish and bonded over that fact … walter koenig is jewish. the VULCAN SALUTE was created when nimoy was visiting a synagogue and was observing the blessings… chris pine is jewish and so was anton yelchin ..spock’s character embodies the jewish experience of diaspora… .WHAT IM SAYING IS STAR TREK IS JEWISH (very jewish) AND ALWAYS WILL BE 

7

quiet night

theres just a what-if here about ritsu getting just a bit of psychic empathy and achieving the rest with his writers brain, and theres also a headcanon about mob not being a very good singer or not playing any instrument but being able to whistle very well 

I remember theres a word for that, the very good whistler thing, from a jeffery deaver book Ive read, but I cant find it in my memory anymore

I kinda want it back

youtube

For those who have played Animal Crossing New Leaf:

A Japanese mandolin orchestra presents to you the Animal Crossing New Leaf Suite

Movement I. Main theme - Isabelle - Town Hall

Movement II. 9 A.M. - Kapp’n (To the island) - Island theme - Kapp’n (Going home)

Movement III. 2 P.M. - Able Sisters - Shampoodle’s - The Roost Cafe - Bubblegum K.K. - Go K.K. Rider 

i just remembered an art project i did back when i was 12 and like,,,, how did i not realise i wasn’t straight earlier oh my god

basically we had to design these bowl things and decorate them with an issue that was really important to us and most people did animal charities etc. but i did a whole gay rights themed bowl that was decorated with rainbow tissue paper and pictures of wlw couples and i just

i had a fact that was like ‘1 in every 4 ppl are lgbt’ and this kid was like ‘so there’s at least 7 of us in this class who are gay’ and i was like ‘oh shit yeah probably i wonder who they are’

kat

i have some news for u buddy

ideas for alternate titles for fallout 4:

-Fallout 4 Endings
-Craftout: Crafting Edition
-Fallout 4: Are Humans With One Robot Part Really People?
-Uncle Todd’s Wet ‘n’ Wild Sci-Fi Theme Park
-Fallout 3 2
-Daifallout: Pete Hines is Going to Make You his Bitch
-Fallout 4: Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
-The Video Game Formerly Known as Fallout
-Disappointment Simulator
-Fallout 4: You Can Fuck A Ghoul in This One
-Fallout Gaiden: Tales of Boston
-Fallout: Dead Wives Edition
-Fallout 4: You Know What? Just Fuck You
-Fallout 4 Female Characters

2

rose quartz vs. serenity 

cr. x/x 

hogwartsandbutterbeer  asked:

Harry and Pansy for the ship thing please! ❤❤

[ canon post-war au; pansy-centric; this really got away from me, tbh ]

  • so
  • maybe pansy never gets her redemption arc. maybe there’s no ministry trial—she’d been at school, she hadn’t had a mark—and maybe there’s no character-building montage of prophet articles, scathing and savage, pointed fingers and humiliating whispers and tear-filled excursions to diagon alley. maybe no one really cares that much about pansy parkinson. maybe no one ever really had.
  • and maybe she’s an orphan now—or as good as, since her dad’s not exactly taking visitors from his cell in azkaban—and worse than that; better than that; maybe she’s anathema. bad luck. maybe all the slytherins are, and there aren’t any bittersweet friday luncheons where they reunite and reminisce and reflect. they’re survivalists, is the thing, and their lives have been dangling by a thread for an uncomfortably long while. there’s always someone watching. afternoon tea at the malfoys’ might seem innocent—but it might not, too. none of them can afford another inquest. another investigation. family only matters if your last name is weasley.
  • regardless.
  • there’s no second chance for pansy parkinson.
  • she has a paltry inheritance from her mother, a boarded-up manor in the wilds of the welsh countryside, and a wand. she auctions off her jewelry, the heirloom ruby brooch and the elizabethan emerald tiara, stares at the layers of dust—of rot—covering the portrait gallery, masking the centuries of wealth, grandeur, history; and she slams the front door with a finality that lifts something heavy off the textbook-perfect line of her shoulders. she hadn’t grown up there. no, that had happened elsewhere, inside the slavering jaws of a battlefield she’d tried too hard to prevent—tried too hard to escape. she wouldn’t be back.
  • but the problem, of course, is that she doesn’t know where to go.
  • she dismisses a quiet life in the country—so much silence—and then considers paris—no, her french is shit—madrid—too hot, too bright—new york—did americans even drink tea?—and ultimately winds up in a third-floor walk-up in an “up-and-coming” neighborhood on the west side of london.
  • it’s depressing, at first.
  • she doesn’t have to live like a muggle, thank god, but she constantly finds herself wondering about the muggles; wondering if they’re squibs, or if they’re wizards, or if they’d once upon a time heard the name voldemort and hadn’t even understood what it meant.
  • she realizes she’s going to drive herself crazy.
  • she gets a job.
  • she has a good eye for fashion, it turns out—a good eye for fabric, and color, and how things might fall and drape and fit around different body types. she’s magic, it turns out. can turn anyone into a chameleon; into whoever they want to be, whoever they need to be, and the irony would be extraordinary if it weren’t so tangibly, ferociously sad.
  • it takes her a few years, but she works her way up at harrods, goes from selling designer jeans to dressing window mannequins to styling couture by appointment only. aristocrats like her accent, her manners, the understated elegance of her pink lipstick and her antique pearl earrings—she’s one of them, even if they’ll never know, and she likes that small hint of secrecy permeating the monotony of her new life. likes how it lets her memories—her regrets—fade gracefully.
  • and then she comes into work on an otherwise normal autumn day, seven years after the end of the war, and she sees a ghost.
  • she sees harry potter.
  • six feet tall and bigger than he’d been before, broader, skin still a creamy sort of brown and eyes still a sparkling sort of green and hair still an uncombed, slightly too-long sort of mess. she’s barely a footnote in the “early life” chapters of his biography. she doubts he’ll even recognize her.
  • “i, um, i need a suit—” he greets her, glancing up from where he’s fiddling with the cuff of his jacket. he does a double-take. freezes. skims his gaze over the shimmering ivory buttons on her blouse, and the neat grey pinstripes on her skirt, and the asymmetrical cut of her hair, dyed a sleek violet-red and brushed pin-straight down to her shoulder blades. “—for a wedding,” he finishes, slowly.
  • she hums. hides her sudden influx of nerves behind a brittle smirk and a perfunctory sniff. “yours?”
  • “no,” he says, a little too sharply.
  • she lifts a brow. files that reaction away for safekeeping. “no need to get testy,” she tells him, smoothing her fingers down the length of her measuring tape. “i’m a personal shopping consultant. it’s my job to get personal.”
  • his cheeks flush red. “haven’t heard much about you since…school,” he remarks with a wince, and she almost snorts.
  • “can’t imagine you’ve been asking much about me since…school,” she replies, motioning for him to hold out his arms. “not that there’s anything to ask about.”
  • he’s quiet for a minute, maybe two, while she scribbles his basic measurements on the back of a tailor’s slip. “malfoy’s marrying hermione,” potter eventually blurts out. “that’s whose wedding it’s for.”
  • at that, pansy does snort. “of course he is.”
  • “you’re not—you don’t find that surprising?”
  • “should i?”
  • potter sputters. “yes.”
  • “it was always going to be either you or her,” pansy says, shrugging. “maybe weasley. draco was obsessed with you. all of you.”
  • potter looks aghast. “i’m not—i don’t—”
  • “and i really don’t care,” she interrupts, as gently as she can.
  • she isn’t lying; she hadn’t realized how thoroughly she’d forgotten her old place in her old world, how little she now thought about the people she used to claim to love. it’s unnerving, actually. she isn’t just a stranger to potter.
  • “what do you…you never go back? to—” he cuts himself off, words coming to a halt on an awkward stumble.
  • “to magic?” she finishes for him, less bothered by the question than she’d thought she might be. “no, not often. i have a flat not too far away from here. my friends are muggles. i’ve got a yorkshire terrier and a closet full of very expensive shoes. i’m fine, potter. magic hasn’t defined me for ages.”
  • he stares at her, undershirt rumpled and glasses askew and socks uneven, the plaid of his boxers so frumpy and threadbare, so calmly, curiously comforting, like everything around him could change, could collapse, and he’d still be wearing them. she thinks he must like it that way. she thinks he must be shopping at a muggle department store for a reason.
  • “what’s its name?” he asks, sounding baffled. his confusion is gratifying. “your, um, terrier.”
  • she pauses. “salazar,” she admits, tartly, and he cracks a smile, posture relaxing into a slouch that’s more familiar than it should be.
  • “you, um, you’re here…often, then? working?” his expression flickers with something, too quick for her to catch, but then he scratches at the back of his neck like he’s nervous, and she supposes that he’s really not that hard to figure out after all.
  • she bites her lip, and offers him a business card. “by appointment only, potter. even for you.”

STOP THE MATCH! BY PALUTENA, HE’S ALREADY K.O.d! ARCEUS BLESS THE RING!

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’m not dead yo, just out in parties.

(and actually self loathing a lot because my own drawing skills and perfectionist attitude)

BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT, the point is, i’m always cooking new things for you guys.

This drawing here, however, was inspired by two things: the Skullgirls N.M.O. Arena theme (i’ve been picking up skullgirls again) and the little funfact that Peach -of all mario characters- was originally intended to be the extra boxer in the remake of Punch-out wii (but wasn’t included because…you know…battle damage, DK was a more acceptable punching bag), so the idea of peach being able to duke it out with the best in the ring amuses me so.

So i got to work and this piece came out, i hope you all enjoy it in its colorful glory, because lemme tell you, this one was BIG.

Oh, by the by, the banners in the backgrounds? HAVE AT THEE.

Yes, i even spent some quality time with these lovely background thingies, I’m a man of detail don’t you know?