two semi circles

Okay, so you might know about the Open Circle symbol and it’s very gay Wookieepedia description, if not:

“ Ships of the Open Circle Armada were easy recognized by the distinctive red-and-yellow emblem painted onto their hulls. The heraldic emblem consisted of a yellow circle that was formed by two separate semi-circle arcs. One arc represented Kenobi, the other, Skywalker. The image signified that while they were both two independent halves, together they formed a single entity.”

But I’ve been thinking, if they both represent one arc, who would be which? Anyone thoughts about that?

Slow Fade (7)

Overview: Being forced out of the only life you want comes with its hardships, but hiding it from the two people you care about the most proves to be the most challenging situation you’ll face.

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader

Warnings: canonical violence, mild language, angst, some fluff to balance it out

Word Count: 2,106

A/N: I kinda love this chapter. I hope you guys do, too :) We’re approaching the end… maybe one or two more sets to go. 

Beta’d by my sole sister @wheresthekillswitch: “This whole chapter feels like a raw nerve.” 

and my writing soulmate @hannahindie “This imagery, waterbear. Looooord.

Masterlist

“You maybe wanna point that somewhere else?”

He turned his smile on me, and a weighted dread settled in my gut. Very few of the monsters that we’d hunted gave me that feeling. The fact that he’d done it almost instantly was probably not a good sign.

“So this one thinks she’s smart,” the man started, “and that one thinks he’s tough. And that one,” he gestured at Sam with his free hand, “well that one just wants to blast my head off because I’m threatening the little lady.”

I growled at the title and made a move to rise from the crouch I was in.

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3

(Did ya think I was kidding)

Notes on the writing: All symbols were pulled from in-show screenshots. After cross-comparing over 50 images of Galran equipment for symbols, I found 26 symbols that just repeated over and over again or were flipped.

I assigned a symbol to each letter of the English alphabet, and tried to generally assign symbols to similarly shaped letters (with a few exceptions).

If you use this to write anything, feel free to show me! I’d love to see this alphabet in action.

-Memorization tips/Placement reasoning for each letter under the cut:-

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Ships of the Open Circle Armada were easy recognized by the distinctive red-and-yellow emblem painted onto their hulls. The heraldic emblem consisted of a yellow circle that was formed by two separate semi-circle arcs. One arc represented Kenobi, the other, Skywalker. The image signified that while they were both two independent halves, together they formed a single entity. The symbol was awarded to their fleet for its courageous and distinguished actions in the war against the Confederacy of Independent Systems. 

Abyssopelagic | Tadashi

imagine two: tadashi x oc
word count: 2280 words

 

  You stood in your room, your violin melodically singing and voicing out the grief and sadness from the bottom of your heart as it scrunched up like a piece of paper, feeling hurt from the events which you were in denial of for the previous days. You refused to leave the house, despite the fact that you knew that you had an important project to work on, when your parents relayed the news to you.

   
  Your grandfather was dead. The man who always made you smile alongside his lovely wife who would make the most delicious cookies whenever you needed a somebody to hang around with when you were younger. The man whom you enjoyed sitting on his lap with, playing tunes on your small violin when you were younger and as you grew up, slowly dancing as you stood in front of him, performing famous pieces by composers like Tchaikovsky whenever you visited them. The man whom you carelessly loved for sharing silly jokes and riddles, and always giving you the wisest advices, now gone.

 
  Both you and your grandfather, were very close; there was no doubt in that. He was the one who guided you to taking your very first step into the world of musical instruments, convincing your parents to send you to classes so that you would improve your skills in playing the violin. He was the one and only whom your heart would definitely swell for when the both of you had yet to meet since a while.

 
  Playing devastating pieces in your room as your mind entered the vast, pitch black darkness of your depressed mind like an abyss while your fingers dances along the neck of your violin as you played delicately, as if afraid to break it because that was the gift that you treasured most from both of your grandparents. Not that you never liked their other presents, but the violin was what you considered a companion to let your feelings out whenever you didn’t have the chance to reach them.

 
  For days, you refused to leave your room, either wailing out your sadness through your violin or just sitting on your bed, grazing through old and recent photos that you shared. Your closest friends, Tadashi, Honeylemon, Fred, GoGo, Wasabi and Hiro, who were in the same college as you were, had also found your absence worrying. They tried reaching you in calls, texts, through your parents, but nobody dared to set foot on your doorstep for they feared how you may react.

 
  “Honey, are you coming down for dinner? We missed you,” your mother knocked on your door with a gentle approach, knowing that the news had hit you harder than herself. You were noticably losing your weight as you skipped your meals, and from the sleepless nights your (e/c) coloured eyes began to lose it’s serenity as two dark semi-circles lingered beneath them.

 
  “I’m good, Mom. It’s okay.” You lied, your eyes not leaving the (f/c) wall of your room. You still remembered the day your grandparents helped you decorate your room, and on that very wall across you was the wall which both you and your grandfather painted together, laughing and giggling as he tried to play silly and predictably pranks on you as your grandmother watched lovingly over the both of you. Lifting your eyes off the wall, you sighed as you heard your mother’s footsteps fade away from your door.

 
  Glancing over at your violin sitting on the other end of your bed, you felt your heart crush into a million pieces. Playing the violin was something that you held dearly to your heart, especially because that your grandfather was your main source of influence. Now that you were reminded of that, you almost broke down to cry because it was so hurtful.

  Days rolled by, easily letting the dark nights emerge and all you did was silently sit in your room with a deathly silence lingering as you sink yourself in the emptiness of your soul. Eventually you lost track of time as you felt your eyelids heave and droop, and the pang of drowsiness made you realise how sleep deprived you were and how much sleep you needed to actually rejuvenate you back into your normal state by at least fifty percent.

 
  Your absence was bugging Tadashi Hamada, the eldest of the Hamada brothers in the same robotics major you took. Your project for the semestral exam was collecting dust by your study desk, and there was only about two months more, and that wasn’t much time.  He wondered what happened to you, asked if amybody had seen her at least around the city or her neighbourhood since it had been two weeks since you last showed up.

 
  What in the world could have happened to you to not make you go to college? With the passing days, he began to miss your glowing smile and your comical movements as you ran around your lab, searching for tools which you claimed were missing only to find them on your study desk or in the cabinets. Surprisingly, he even came to the point to realise that you were basically an everyday need and his feelings were confirmed: they weren’t infatuation.

 
  Tadashi knew texting or calling you would not get you to talk, reply or pick your phone up, so he decided to ‘woman up’, according to GoGo’s words, and show up on your doorstep in hopes to see you. He put in an extra effort to dress up; nothing so big or fancy, but he applied an extra spritz of his favourite cologne instead of his everday ones and deodorant. He even bought a beautiful bouqet of your favourite flowers, delicately bundled together with a (f/c) coloured ribbon.

 
  He was a nervous wreck on his way to your house, and he could feel the sweat glands on the palms of his hands forming. He didn’t know why, but he had a bad feeling that something was going to happen once he arrived, and he would be having trouble to get you out of your hard shell. But he didn’t let that drag his hopes down: he was determined.

  Once he saw your house in view, he began to silently take deep breaths to calm himself down. By the time he set his dark red moped by the fence of your house, he neatly straightened his clothes out and made sure that your flowers were looking great. He noticed that the only light source was coming from your room, considering that it was a quarter past eight. He remembered how your parents would tend to work late on Fridays, so he took it as an opportunity to visit you. He was ecstatic upon hearing a violin playing faintly among the walls of the house, and he was sure that it was you. But unfortunately to his dismay, the door was locked.

 
  Tadashi searched for the key; under the doormat, beneath plant pots and even in between shoes, but he couldn’t find it. He almost gave up on searching for the key when he saw your window open. He could easily climb in, since there were pipes attached to the exterior. And so he did.

 
  The melodic singing of the violin was his source of motivation: you were there, in your room, playing your musical companion to express your distress. The rage, the guilt, the grief and the tiny amount of affable movements your body simply drew you as depression with a violin. Your brows creased as you entered the  dark void of your heart and soul, feeling the waves of rage hitting you.

 
  “(Y/N).” A tender voice scared you, causing you to jump a little. You recognised that voice anywhere. You turned around, removing your violin which was resting in between your shoulder and your chin as you silently pursed your lips together. “Hey.” The goofy, lop-sided grin that you missed was back, right in front of you, and you were at a loss of words.

 
  “Tadashi,” you breathed, placing your violin and bow down on your bed before walking up to him and hugging him quickly as an action of gratitude. “What … brought you here?” You quietly asked him.

 
  “Well, you weren’t around in campus for about two weeks and since our calls and texts never reached you, I thought I would take the initiative to come over and see what happened to you.” He explained, shyly avoiding your gaze before he pulled out a bouquet of flowers from behind him. They weren’t just any kind of flowers, they were your favourite flowers — (f/f). “These are for you.”

 
  “Tadashi, they’re beautiful.” Your lips curved into an admiring smile, your pearly whites glistening as your eyes looked down lovingly at the bouquet of flowers before sniffing them.

 
  “I know.” He smiled. But not as beautiful as compared to you, he silently thought. You led him to your bed, where the both of you sat side by side at the edge in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

 
  After a moment of silence, when Tadashi was about to ask you what happened, you beat him to it. “My grandfather passed away two weeks ago. I’ve grieved every since.” You silently muttered. You wanted to cry, but you never felt the tears kicking in. It had always happened ever since the day of his funeral. You wanted the tears running down your face, bawling your heart out, but never once did you manage to let a tear slip from the corners of your eyes.

 
  “I-I’m so sorry about your loss, (Y/N).” You could feel the pity in his voice as he took your hand in his and gently caressed the back of your hand, running his thumb across your knuckles in an attempt to console you. A small smile crept across your lips as you let out a soft chuckle, accepting his actions of empathy.

 
  “Thanks, Tadashi. It’s a hard time, but I’ll get through it.” He nodded, agreeing to your words.

 
  “I never knew you play,” he chuckled.

 
  “Yeah, I got my performer’s diploma last year. I wrote a piece just for Grandpa,” you gave him a half-hearted half-smile. Tadashi, who heard you play a while ago while climbing up to your window, immediately grinned.

 
  “Can I hear it?” He shamelessly asked, before noticing how taken aback you were. “I-I mean, you don’t- you don’t have to if you know, y-you’re uncomfortable and all.” It was very thoughtful of him, really. For the first time in two weeks, you heartily laughed. The tinkling laugh rang in Tadashi’s ears as he goofily grinned, savouring the laugh which he yearned to hear since when you were mourning.

 
  “Of course I could play it for you,” you smiled as you got up, reaching over for your violin and its bow. Your eighteen-year-old best friend carefully eyed your actions, admiring the outline of your body as you stood in front of the bed, playing the sad melody. He was surprisingly very attentive to both your playing and you.

 
  Your fingers expertly ran along the neck of the violin as your other arm delicately drew lines with the bow, creating a beautifully sad melody. The way your brows furrowed and your lips pursed together expressing your heartfelt attachment as your body swayed gently as you played, as if the music was softly rocking you softly.

 
  When you finished your performance, you glanced over at him with a half-smile, trying to think of the good things. Tadashi was completely mesmerized and enthralled by your beautiful performance, and a silly lop-sided grin crept across his face before he ran over to you and picked you up in his arms, hugging you as he spun you around your room. Your laughter filled the air, and it was like music in his ears as he put you down. “(Y/N), that was amazing. If only I could kiss you – that – that is more amazing.” He gushed, his cheeks tinting pink. It took a while for the both of you to realise what he said, and when the both of you did, Tadashi immediately released his grip around your waist and shuffled a couple of steps back.

  “I-I mean, if you’re willing, then, uh,” his cheeks tinted a bright red. You felt a soft giggle escape your lips.


  “I would love to.” You placed your violin on either side of your feet as you tiptoed, pecking your small lips on his. The moment you pulled away, he trapped you with his arms and pulled you back in for a longer, more passionate kiss. Your lips delicately folded around each other’s, trapping the both of you in a moment of magical fantasy, only that it was reality.


  “(Y/N), I’ve been meaning to tell you this,” Tadashi muttered as the both of you pulled away. You stared into his almond-shaped hazel eyes, the sparks in your body slowly fading away as you felt a tingling sensation lingering around on your lips as your attention averted back and forth from his eyes and lips, your cheeks turning pink. “I … (Y/N), I like you. No, no, um, I l-love you.” He noticed your silence and took it as a no. “I-I understand that you don’t feel the same way! We can still be friends and-”

 
  “Tadashi, calm down.” You giggled. “I love you too.” With an excited grin as soon as he sunk your words in, he scooped down for another kiss.

when the song stays in your head

Emma’s used to being the new girl in school and she’s done it often enough to know that making friends only makes it harder when she leaves. Then Killian happens. ~5600 words. Also on FFNet and AO3

For @initiala, on the occasion of her birth. With thanks to @startswithhope for reading it over and giving me permission to end it where I did. :)


           If Lowell High has anything going for it, Emma thinks, navigating her way through the crowded halls, it’s easy to get lost in. A student population of upwards of three thousand means that no one’s noticed the new girl who came in after Spring Break. Her classes are a bit of a different story, but they usually are — no matter the school there’s always at least one teacher who tries to conscript a ‘buddy’ to help her settle in. But Emma’s been the new girl often enough by now that she’s mastered the “trust me— you don’t want us to be friends” vibe.

           (She used to try and make friends. Used to latch on to whichever clique was willing to take her in and smile and nod and twist her orphan story to suit whoever she was with. Sometimes it even worked. But she always moved and they never kept in touch and it started to hurt worse than not having any friends to begin with.)

           There’s a few months left until she’s done grade 11 and then it’s just one more year until she never has to be the new girl ever again. Emma doesn’t know yet what she’ll do when she’s finally free of both school and the foster system but it can’t possibly be worse than what she’s had to deal with so far.

           She winces at the sudden brightness as she pushes through the door and steps out into the canal side park that runs between the school’s buildings. It’s the first absolutely gorgeous day of spring and she’s grateful for any excuse not to navigate the cafeteria again. Above her, the “tunnels” stretch across Merrimack Canal to Lowell High’s other two buildings and she turns down to wander along the grass, eventually picking out a spot on one of several monuments to writer Lucy Larcom. This one is two low concrete semi-circles with a quote carved around the inside and Emma sits with her back to the other students hanging out nearby, putting her bag down by her feet and tucking into her peanut butter sandwich.

           It seems like at least half the student population had the same idea that she did, but with no tables it’s easier to keep to herself and let everyone else fade to background noise while she eats. Emma should know better — new school, new troublemakers, after all — but it’s been so miserable and rainy lately that she can’t help it. She closes her eyes and leans back, letting her palms soak up the heat from the sun-warmed concrete. Someone stumbles as they run past her and it’s only when she opens her eyes that she realizes whoever it was didn’t trip so much as they paused to steal her bag.

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anonymous asked:

I rly love your Wirt cosplay ! :) can I know how you made the cloak/cape thing?

Sure! It ain’t no secret uvu

Wirt’s cloak is a type of cloak/cape thing called a circle cloak. You can tell because it goes completely around his body, covers his shoulders, and overlaps a little back at the front (whereas a semicircle cape would be something like ur typical superhero cloak or a lotr cloak cause it lays on ur shoulders).

You make it by cutting out a huge circle of fabric where the center is your neckhole. If you look up circle cape (or even just any cape tutorial) you will find out the basics of how to make one: something like this helps

The only hard part is A. finding a big enough piece of fabric and B. lining it. I couldn’t find a large enough piece of fabric so I cut out two semi circles of each color and THEN sewed those halves to each other where I had a big circle of RED and a big circle of BLU. IT’S A TON OF FABRIC AND HEAVY AND WOULD BE FRICKIN HOT IN THE SUMMER but it is also the best cape ever and super billowy and epic.

I could go really in depth on how to make it but… as long as u have that tutorial and know how to sew with a machine it’s a really easy piece of clothing to make ^^