I love how creatively Dear White People is filmed and that each episode is slightly thematically different based on the central protagonist. Gabe’s replicates old films because he loves movies, Lionel is an introverted thinker so his process shows him creating scenes with his imagination, Coco is reconciling her past with her future so we get a lot of flashbacks, Sam has a strong personal drive but inner confusion so her episodes are the least linear, jumping back and forward with less structure.
OMG GUYS!!! Do you know how long I’ve been working on this????? I am SCREAMING.
Luckily @redsketches took pity on me and helped me finish it off. In the process, I pulled her into our fandom, fufufu
But seriously, mad props to her! Thank you!!! Go check her out guys!
In the meantime, PLEASE ENJOY THIS. I love Magnus Chase and I am so sad to see it end (no spoilers pls only halfway through the last book ^^) I hope we see Magnus and his crazy world(s) again! In the meantime, we still have Star to fall back on :)
Credits and thanks to both Rick Riordan and Daron Nefcy for creating these two gems!! Thanks to Disney for helping them!!!
Ps: here are some extra char that I drew for this! May update this post with more later ^^
“How long until they know?” Lance shifted and sighed. How long until they know?
He was perched up in the team nest, worriedly watching the team pass by underneath him. Keith had ran to, and then back, from training a while ago. Hunk had been carrying gizmos and do-hickeys when he stumbled past hours earlier. The last group he had seen was Shiro, Allura, Coran, and surprisingly, Pidge. He had snatched just what they were talking about as they passed. Pidge would be going down to the next planet they were visiting, alone, to test it with scanners for the mission.
The plan was a basic search, raid, and scavenge mission they did every so often. Search for survivors, Galra rebels, and alliances. Raid for resources and information. Scavenge for materials, culture, and history. Lance liked to call it the SRS plan - the first two parts were the complicated parts, and the last one was usually as boring at the real SRS. This planet wasn’t occupied by natives, or they had been wiped out by the Galra base that had been set up. It was mostly a work camp surrounded by oceans. Islands dotted the planet here and there, small, but big enough you could spend years there before you had walked and seen it all.
Every time they planned an SRS, they had one paladin go down, alone, and scan the entire island with their lion, or by hand on ground level. Because it was confirmed for Galra activity and there were no natives to blend in with, they were sending Pidge in with Green - to do a cloaked scan, then to investigate on foot if it was required. This way, if they were separated, needed medicine, or food for themselves or the aliens they had rescued, they wouldn’t pick the planet’s most painful poison.
Lance sighed again. Funny how many people would want me to pick the poison. An amused huff passed his lips as his eyes looked down at his feet.
The nest was made of blankets, fibers, hay, straw, and a metal basin nailed into the beams. Alteans apparently had designated spots for nests, but the others had pushed to put one where they wanted. Which, had been the center pole in the common room closest to the training room, where dozens of beams filled the open ceiling. Lance had insisted with the others on the impromptu spot, even going as far to mention the main support would be the safest place, based on all the rafters he could climb. Yes, Lance climbed slippery metal poles 40 feet up in the air without wings. All the training of climbing high places to catch up that Lance called a childhood, left him without a fear of heights when he was in command. Some of his favorite memories were diving and jumping off those heights, sometimes into the ocean, sometimes to the ground, sometimes to more rock or another branch. The others got a thrill from flying. He got his from falling.
He had broken his arms quite a few times from that.
The unmistakable sound of flapping wings took his attention, causing Lance to look up at Keith, who was gently landing in the nest in front of him. His wings looked cleaner than normal, softer and neater, and his lips weren’t scowling as darkly as usual. “You missed the group preening session again.” Ah. That explained it.
Lance didn’t say anything, paying more attention to the piece of straw in his hand instead of Keith’s calm face, the little smile on his lips, the concerned glint in his eye. Keith’s skin always looked so clear after grooming, Lance grumbled internally, like he had just stepped out of a hot shower. He fiddled with the straw more, ignoring the sharp pricks the ends gave his fingers. Keith seemed to sigh internally, a little slipping out of his mind and nose, before kneeling down to Lance’s height. “You never come. You know you can if you want to, right?”
Ha. As if he could. (They wouldn’t want him then.)
“Yeah.” He says, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear and shifting to push his back into the nest subconciously. He blinks up at Keith, whose hand is hanging over the bend of knee with his weight. It’s turned down, but ready to be outstreched and taken in Lance’s if he grabs it. He notes the way Keith’s slim fingers seem to cup themselves. He wants to grab it.
Keith’s gaze is level and steady, an almost uncharacteristic look from impulsive, crazy Keith. It holds patience, and focus, and makes Lance want to give him a sign, let him know he isn’t staring at a blurry board, he’s looking at the notes taped to it. His wings are held up and arch out, raised to fly while he crouches. Lance’s hands itch to reach out and run his fingers through the burgundy feathers.
He doesn’t. Just waits for Keith to pull back and stand up.
He does, but not without clapping and rubbing his hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Okay then. His wings lower a little to catch an imaginary draft. "I’m going to go talk to Shiro about battle formations. You can come to me if you need it.” Lance lets his smile pull back, knowing inside it was a bright, sadistic, white streak against a midnight canvas. He hopes it’s convincing to Keith. “I will.” He says, then Keith is flying away with another small smile, though this one is a little sadder, a little more resolved.
Please note that this is a very basic overview of the index in my Book of Shadows. For each bullet point is at least one page of information in my BoS.
I am only about halfway through recording information into my BoS; so as time goes on and as I learn more about the craft / my path this order may change. Also, if you feel I have missed anything please let me know !
For more posts straight out of my grimoire search the tag #queenofbohemebos 🌻
Do you love period dramas? Do you want to support gay-centered media?
The Burying Party, written and directed by Richard Weston, is a film that follows the last year in the life of Wilfred Owen, a gay man whose poetry about World War I changed the landscape of war poetry and landed Owen a much deserved standing as one of the most renowned poets in all of English history.
As of right now, the film is only halfway to completion. Weston and co. are relying on crowd funding in order to get the film done, and they need to raise
£5,000 ($6,585) total in order to ensure that the film is finished in time to be released on the 100th anniversary of Wilfred Owen’s death in November of next year. The campaign closes on Nov. 27, 2017. That’s where you come in.
Here is a link to their KICKSTARTER CAMPAIGN, where you can read more about the project, as well as watch the trailer.
Please share the word about this project and consider supporting it if you can! Wilfred Owen was an amazing historical figure, and there isn’t nearly enough media out there actively honoring not just his poetic accomplishments but also his sexual orientation!
What do you think are some of the genuinely happiest moments Scully had on the show? (Like do we even get 10 moments?)
Oh my god this is the most fun she’s had in years and her new partner is so smart and so weird…. and hot… i wonder if they will have the most iconic love affair of all time and if she will bear his miracle alien child
Just two Platonic Colleagues wiping BBQ sauce off of each other’s faces and playing footsie under the table
Just cleaning her gun and having a Professional phone call with her Platonic Colleague, which happens to be her favourite time of day, because you KNOW they call each other every night. Also they are certainly not flirting their faces off
You know that feel when you’re held in contempt of congress for your Platonic Colleague, and he fights his way out of a Russian gulag armed with only a shiv and makes a dramatic entrance in the nick of time, looking fine as hell to boot? Yeah
Just having a Platonic dance
And an adorable dat— I mean, an evening of Platonic baseball where he’s certainly not grinding himself into her ass and whispering into her ear
When you can’t help but just laugh at the ridiculous movie based on your life, because you know what? Your life is ridiculous, but it’s beautiful, because he’s in it, and you’re alive and you’re relatively young and you have a Bureau credit card to play with
And no matter what the universe puts them through, there are moments where her favourite spooky bastard still fills her with this kind of… wild, wondrous joy