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5:36 p.m.

    Fun fact: Augie was passed down his parents’ old Volkswagen van so he could get around town without being a bother. As they’re from the Woodstock era, he vows to never go into the back of the van. 

What I really love about Revenge of the Sith is that it ends the same way as Return of the Jedi; with people choosing to love Anakin despite everything he’s done.

In RotJ, Luke could have left Vader behind out of anger or lack of compassion, but he chose love instead. He didn’t have to help him, but he chose to. “You’re coming with me. I’ll not leave you here, I’ve got to save you.”

And RotS echoes that same message with Obi-wan and Padme both loving him despite the betrayal and his horrible actions.

Obi-wan could have chosen to hate Anakin for all that he did, he could have answered Anakin’s hatred with hatred of his own. But when Anakin screamed “I hate you” Obi-wan answered with “You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you.”

And even Padme, whose heart was broken, chose to love him. “There is good in him. I know there is still…”

What I love about Star Wars is the message of love and forgiveness, even for those who have wronged us in unthinkable ways.

anonymous asked:

You know, I don't really like Markiplier's content much, but I don't understand how people can hate him? I've never seen him be anything less that cordial to people, even when they treat him like shit. He seems like a really sweet guy.

well they’re only hating mark by proxy. most of the markiplier hate you see on tumblr the last couple of days is actually hate for him making a response video on pewdiepie trying to get the community to calm down, to make them realize that a couple of out of context jokes dont mean he’s a neonazi.

but fuck that right? he’s defending someone tumblr already made their minds on and who is clearly a neonazi. 

-Mod Gemini

Day 4: Flight

I got tired of poking at this.  First creative writing piece in years does not have to be perfect, self!  Something for Padmè and the handmaidens, written for a couple of people on my list who are fond of them.  I wanted to Bechdel the shit out of my homegirl.  Too often, she’s relegated to “Anakin’s wife.”

Day 4: Flight

The day of her coronation, she is dressed in vine silk and plumage, an exotic bird among the throng of attendants, administrators, and bureaucrats that compose the heart of Naboo’s political seat.  She is silent, though she knows they will expect her to speak, and she is afraid, though her hands do not shake.  In the riot of sound, Padmè feels small and indistinct; she is neither the first nor the youngest girl queen, but in the measure of her youth, she feels equally lacking.

It is Rabè who rescues her from the maw, clasping her hand and ushering her away to a back room where the other handmaidens await her.   Sabè looks at her, a stranger in her panoply, and Padmè wonders if she is thinking of Varykino, of summer and scraped knees and laughter.  They were small once; she wonders if they are small still.

Eirtaè is not so impressed, her eyes cutting as they take the whole of her, hem to crown.  She presses her lips into a fine line, voice curt. “Time is short.  Let’s get her readied.”

With little fuss, they press her into high backed chairs, smoothing the folds of her dress and unwinding the natural curl of her hair, pulling it into a style more elegant and severe.  Brush in hand, Eirtaè smooths away blemish and character, and Amidala emerges, piece by piece, in painted flesh and taut features.  A touch a rouge on her lips, and the portrait emerges complete.  It must takes hours, yet her heart pounds under her breast - too soon - when they look up from their work, complete.

Sabè’s hands are on her shoulders, smoothing the lines of her dress down, and perhaps, Amidala thinks, steadying her, a mother bird readying her fledgling for flight.  Rabè’s breath tickles, mischievous, when she whispers in her ear, “Now, you look like a queen.”

She breathes in once, holding it, savoring these last few moments of girlhood in her breast.  She lets it out carefully and stands.

In the mirror, they make quite a sight, the lot of them: a seamless blend of sleek features and sharp eyes, draped in red cloth and reverence.  Even Eirtaè is softened in the ambient light, her eyes grown liquid and soft.  Her mouth is kind now, and their hands are clasped.

“Your people await, your Highness.”

They move as they always have, queen and handmaiden and girl and maid all and again together; the strands of a thread, pulled tightly and wound into one.

anonymous asked:

7, 27, 37, 42

– – –

true love’s kiss & silver linings

– – –

Alex waits until they’re back in the car and already heading out of the mall parking lot before she finally speaks up.

“Have you kissed a girl?” Alex asks with as much nonchalance as she can muster, given the mayhem currently ravaging her mind.

Kara’s head whips up from her phone and Alex can only imagine what kind of expression Kara’s drilling into the side of her head, but her eyes stay resolutely on the road ahead.

“Random. Why?” Kara draws out, both suspicious and wary in that one tone.

Keep reading

I actually cannot wait for episodes 219/220 of Shadowhunters. We know that they were filmed at the same time and Dom, Kat and Em mentioned that they were filmed in a completely new, unique way & Kat mentioned that at the end of 220, we won’t recognize the show, it’ll be like a completely different series. And! Todd mentioned some thrilling parabatai stuff as #parabataichills! Like, GIMME! GIMME NOW!

Originally posted by peccosbagnaia