#lar rambles

[larstudy]

little -not so important- update,

You may have notice that I write less under my posts lately and I interact less with you all. I'm really sorry :(( ily little moots :((

It's just that I'm so tired lately and I can't seem to find a pace that work for me. Like, I work 35h per week and have 2 hours of transportation each day to go to work so I wake up early and come back home late (hopefully it's only during the holidays). for example it's 21:15/9:15 pm rn and I'm not back home yettttt

Moreover I try to study at least 30 minutes and I'm also trying (and succeeding!) to have a few self care routines :))

Also, as I work at a pharmacy I talk all the day, interact with people all the day and my social battery is fucking dead after 10 hours :(( (it makes me so sad, I would rather interact with my lovely moots that with all those people 😭)

Anyway, I'll try writing and posting more more but first I have to find a better rhythm and be less tired!

And that's all!! I love you and I miss you (I'm thinking of you through my tiredness) 🩷🩷

[novantinuum]

becoming very fond of the concept of lars gaining empath powers after he’s resurrected but. specifically for steven ONLY like

Lars: feels a sudden very tight twinge in his chest that does not go away for a good while

Lars: (grumbling, drags out his phone)

Lars, texting: steven take ur goddamn pills

[beat]

Steven, texting: oh ya thanks

[phoenixkaptain]

Canon straight ships in Star Wars always crack me up like

You have Mutually Obsessed and Making That Everyone Else’s Problem (anidala)

Or maybe you want Roguish Princess and Rogue Turned On By That (hanleia)

Maybe even a little “I’m Trying to Kill You, Stop Daydreaming About Being My Best Friend” (lukemara)

And over there in the corner is Only Considered Normal In Comparison to the Given Competition (obitine)

And outside, not even apart of the conversation: Actually Normal Human Beings Who Just Love Each Other With Little to No Murder Being Involved (Bail&Breha, Owen&Beru)

[star-adventurxr]

I can already feel the beginnings of a wave of twinks cosplaying lars pinfeild… that of he’s going to get TikTok-ified

[ad-hawkeye]

i know i did one of these for alkaid so i tried to make some more for the other guys

[marvelstars]

Padme & Anakin anger &flaws

I may be in the minority but I do think Padme is principled and brave a lot, she has been that way since she was a kid, she was bassically trained to be that way so she could become a strong/good leader for Naboo and guess what Anakin is/was very principled and brave as well, the fact both of them share this about the other is one of the biggest reasons why they became involved and fell in love but Padme also is flawed, I don´t believe she was without flaws and one those flaws involve being almost as angry as Anakin.

We already saw Anakin´s reaction over Shmi´s death, Padme is almost as angry over Corde´s murder in AOTC, in the novel of Attack of the Clones Padmé has a moment in which she wishes she could murder the trade federation leaders and Count Dooku over Corde´s death and she wonders if that was how Anakin felt with the tusken raiders after they tortured and killed his mother, the main difference between them is that Padme would have to use considerable effort to do that which would lead to her thinking things over better, while Anakin could kill a lot of people just using his mind in the rush of the moment, he didn´t even needs his lightsaber to do that, so his control over himself has to be more constant.

Both Padme and Anakin share a perspective of justice being something that not neccesarily can be always tackled by a system, in fact Padme´s words after leaving the Senate to go rescue her planet was that there wasn´t probably any hope for the republican system, a concept like justice isn´t easily tackled by a system, especially one as flawed as the republic, Padme simply thoguht the republic could be fixed when she grew up and Anakin shared this sentiment as well but he wasn´t as hopeful as her.

So both have this rightheous anger in them and in Padme´s case that included her helping Anakin hide what happened to the tusken raiders, maybe she thought him being expelled from the Jedi Order and going to jail wasn´t the best way to deal with that, I personally think maybe that could have protected him from Palpatine but he surely would have found a way to become Anakin´s guardian and lawyer if that happened but my guess is that Padme simply had compassion for Anakin´s circunstances, because the origin of Anakin´s reaction was precisely being taken away from his mother, leaving her a slave which lead to her death and Padme knew as well as Anakin did that the dead of Shmi Skywalker would not garner justice from Jabba, the Republic or any other system or government body in the galaxy, literally nobody cared she died, only Anakin and the Lars family did which made Padme sympathetic to Anakin.

Padme also is very principled but imo she seems used to have a pov particular to her station which also leads to ignore some things people who had not been in her place experiment daily, she shares this flaw with Bail Organa as well. Slavery for Padme seemed a very horrible and sad reality but it wasn´t one of her priorities to end it, her priority was to help turn the republic into a more equal and fuctional body that could better deal with those situations and many others around the galaxy and she actually came close to discovering many of Palpatine´s schemes for this reason, which was why he and Dooku wanted her dead and she never semed to quite make the connection between slavery and the clones but then again nobody else did except for maybe Anakin and ironically Palpatine and Count Dooku.

Both Padme and Anakin were children forced into adult situations and both were told or were forced to, since a young age, to reppress their emotions, Padme as Amidala, Anakin as a slave who had to control his emotions so he would not bring trouble to his mother or himself and later as a Jedi. Imo this made both of them develop a kind of double life, Anakin in particular hated the Amidala persona, because Padme seemed so emotionless when she was that way but curiously enugh as Vader, one of his main go to presentation cards is to act almost as emotionless as Queen Amidala.

What I don´t view and never will see as part of Padme´s flaws is her love for Anakin or her wish to save him from himself in ROTS.

Those are not flaws, those are part of her strenght as a character imo because while she certainly wasn´t of the oppinion that eveything would be alright after what Anakin did, in fact Lucas commented she would not have stayed his wife had she lived, she definitely could see he wasn´t in his right mind on Mustafar, so their marriage may have been over if Anakin followed her but she still cared enough for him to try to help him get back to his own senses, because she knew if she gave Anakin that opportunity, his own horror over what he did would be as strong as anything she could tell him and he would have directly taken matters into his own hands even if they meant his death and this opportunity is precisely what Luke presented to Vader in ROTJ, which lead to the biggest victory over the darkside in the series, so no Padme´s love and compassion for Anakin will never be flaws from my pov, just like Anakin only could find himself again because he was able to feel compassion again as Vader. Both are connected that way.

[romance-rambles]

modern alkaid | 319 roses and a date

Alkaid gets asked on a date by the girl he desperately wanted to ask out, at least before he found out who the flowers were for. You'd like to maintain that nothing you said was a lie.

2.8k, post-alkaid's florist ending [everything else happens the same way, except alkaid's first meeting with mc happens after godheim], misunderstandings + some angst, mc is reader, series: none

ALKAID STARES DOWN BLANKLY AT the bouquet of white roses in his hands. At some point during his stunned silence, he had unwittingly taken them off yours, just as you had hoped for.

All 319 of them, to be precise—which is a number that, put in a different context, can also refer to 3/19, the day of his birth. Even with the limited capacity he has at the moment to sort out the events that led up to this moment, he can't help the way his heart flutters at the knowledge that you remembered, even though so much time has passed.

"Alkaid?" A gentle tap against his shoulder robs the flowers of their spotlight. "Do you...not like the flowers?"

He looks up and sees you, still here—still dressed so beautifully he's once more in danger of succumbing to asphyxiation, with a fretful expression that makes him wonder if he's already there. When he does not respond, you close the remaining distance between them, obscuring all else from his vision.

It is a problem only because he has nowhere left to run.

"No," he croaks out finally, leaning back over the counter to accommodate you.

Obliviously, you move closer, leaving him with no choice but to avert his gaze once more. Alkaid can only hope you aren't offended—that you don't think he finds you unattractive, with how often he does so. It's only that your beaming smile reminds him of what it feels like to stare down the sun.

"They're lovely."

Satisfied with his answer, you pull back. Your hands are clasped behind your back, and your ponytail sways slightly, once more retreating behind your shoulder. There's an adorable star-shaped pin fastened onto the strap of your cross-body bag.

He sighs discretely, relieved, and pulls the bouquet up to his face as casually as he can. The petals, he hopes, will be enough to cover up the deep scarlet staining his cheeks.

"I'm glad!" You clap your hands together. "I was worried they wouldn't be to your liking. Maybe I should've asked you what your favorite flower was before I tried asking you out."

A self-deprecating laugh slips out as you scratch your cheek. An intricate design spans the length of your nail now—shades of red and green shaped into what he can clearly recognize as halves of a rose hugging the edges—against a black background.

Alkaid bites his lip, converting the interrupted gasp into a quiet exhale.

"You guessed right. I like white roses," he says, hoping desperately that his words are nothing less than reassuring. "Though they share that spot with lilies as well."

"Lilies," you repeat, a determined gleam in your lovely eyes. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

He bites his lip harder.

THE MORNING HE'S DUE TO hand off your flowers, Alkaid finds himself contemplating the benefits of coffee behind the register.

Though his favorite concealer and his usual color corrector have done much to brighten up his undereyes, they can do little for the grogginess that comes with staying awake the whole night (Why such a specific number? Who are they for? Do you remember him at all?). And, by the time the clock strikes nine, he's already downed three cups of strongly-brewed tea.

What pushes him to finally break away from his usual preferences is a simple headache.

The store is empty, and there remains more than half an hour before you're set to arrive. A sharp twinge of pain in the side of his head as he stands up to check on your flowers draws out a careful hiss. Alkaid, with some amount of lingering hesitance, flips the sign on his door to closed, with a note explaining the rough length of absence. Then he walks out the door, his destination the artsy cafe across the street—the one that makes him think of you whenever he walks in.

Allen, the normally deadpan barista on duty, seems to shut down when Alkaid corrects him on his order. Soon, the news spreads to the rest of the employees, who take turns staring at him as he leaves with a warm thermos of coffee in his hands.

But, in the end, it proves to be an unnecessary trip.

You're already in front of his flower shop when he returns, half-crouched and studying the sign the way someone might study a work of abstract art. Today, too, you have a large, dark blue backpack slung over both your shoulders, its surface decorated with various pins and stickers—mostly of a cat, your cat, but also of a popular manga that you seem to like.

In Passing, that is.

It's about a love triangle featuring a tyrant emperor and a well-liked leader of the rebellion. Even without the reviews praising it for subverting expectations, Alkaid would've picked it up anyway.

He's on the third volume right now, and—

Hmm? His eyebrows furrow. Where did I leave it? In my bag?

All of a sudden, the sleep that had been so insistent on dragging his eyelids down vanishes. Alkaid wracks his brain desperately for the answers, stomach churning at the thought of you finding out about his latest reading material.

Unfortunately, you choose that moment to turn around.

"Oh, Alkaid!"

Your confused expression soon melts away, leaving behind only a cheerful smile. Tightening his grip on his thermos, he exhales silently, before flashing you a gentle smile.

"You're here." Time stops as you begin to approach him, your keychains singing a short jingle to accompany you. Your expression softens, as does your voice. "You didn't forget about me, right?"

Alkaid can only sputter out a half-coherent apology.

The words get drowned out by the insistent, purposeful beating of his heart. It's as if it wants to claw itself out of his chest and entrust itself to your hands, as it is, with shattered bones sticking out of it.

You laugh prettily, as always. "It's okay. I'm just joking."

Then, like a moth to a flame, his gaze falls upon your lips. A soft red, with a glossy sheen, one that matches the color of your skirt. On a plain canvas, it's all the more striking. It leaves him wondering about things he, currently a stranger, shouldn't be fretting over.

He's not sure how long he stares for, with slightly parted lips and a series of half-realized thoughts chiding at him to stop—only that it's not long enough for you to grow uncomfortable.

Alkaid clears his throat, holding up his thermos (I should've bought her something too, he thinks) as an explanation. "I apologize for the wait. I went over to the cafe across the street."

"Coffee lover?" you guess, making room for him to open the door.

"I'm usually more of a tea person." As he slips inside the store, he can't help but chuckle self-consciously, remembering all the different ways he imagined this scene playing out. Naturally, his next words are nothing more than the most blatant lie he's ever told. "I thought I'd try something else for a change."

"Is it a nice place?" Upon seeing the puzzled look he sends over his shoulder, you clarify, "The cafe. I've seen the reviews, but I think only experience can beat the testimony of someone you know."

He considers your question for a moment. "The staff is very friendly. I often stop by during lunch for their sandwiches."

"I see..." you murmur.

"I think you'd like it," Alkaid blurts out as he slips in behind the register, happy to note that his copy of Volume 3 is, in fact, in his bag. "The owner enjoys collecting art—there's a lot of different paintings all over the cafe. Um, since you're an art major."

"Well, now I have to try it out." You don't seem particularly startled that he knows about your major; instead, you take to drawing patterns across the wooden countertop. He thinks he sees the familiar curve of an A. "The cookies you recommended last time were really great too."

When he keeps his silence, the complete opposite of what the state of his mind currently is (she remembers?), you look up.

"Hmm?" You tilt your head, confusion clouding your once smiling expression. "Do I have the wrong person? You're Alkaid, right? From that time in the snow mountains?"

He forces himself to nod, but that too is enough.

A shy smile blossoms on your lips, paired with both a brief flash of relief flitting through your gaze and the slight, almost imperceptible widening of your eyes. Placing your hands above your heart, you sigh exaggeratedly.

"You had me worried for a moment," you say. Your eyelashes cast a dark shadow on your undereyes. "I thought we'd never meet again."

For a moment, he wonders if there's more to your sorrow than you let on. Does it have anything to do with the way you disappeared? Somewhere so far away that no one could reach you at all?

Alkaid shakes off his thoughts.

"But we did," he responds carefully. I never thought we'd meet again either, he does not say instead. "Whether it was destiny, whether it was just a coincidence, we did. All we can do is make the most of it."

A tinge of sadness mars your lovely smile. "I think that sounds lovely."

SOON AFTER THEIR REUNION, DONE properly this time, down to exchanging numbers, Alkaid excuses himself to go fetch your flowers. When he returns, lovesick heart brimming with curiosity over the recipient's identity once more, he finds you've returned to doodling on the counter.

"Here they are, 319 white roses," he announces.

There's a blank expression on your face when you look up. Slowly, as recognition dawns upon you, it melts away to something bitter and rough. Its jagged edges dig into his his heart, leaving a paralyzing mix of sadness and longing to wash over him.

And then—

"Thank you," you say, and take the flowers off his hand.

His hand twitches, yearning for the camera he still keeps in his backpack, for the days where he feels like memorializing something instead. Lovely is the only word he has to describe you as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears and pull the bouquet close with a faint smile.

Then, you close your eyes, and you inhale deeply. Once more, you are somewhere else—somewhere far, somewhere he can't reach.

"Ah, sorry." You crack one eye open. Now, the bouquet is clutched against your chest, but your sadness remains. "I guess I'm a bit nervous. I don't know if he'll like the flowers."

He? From some far corner of his mind, he recalls the image of your guardian. A tall man, with long silver hair and a pleasant, but guarded expression. Cael, he thinks is the name.

"For your guardian?" Alkaid inquires.

Your smile drops entirely at the mention of your guardian. A complicated series of emotions flash in your gaze, soon averted to one of the potted plants at the display. Scratching your cheek, you offer him a polite laugh.

Today, only some of your nails are a plain black. The rest remain bare.

"No, it's not for Cael." You answer carefully. "Actually—"

Looking down at the flowers, you take a deep breath. When next you speak, your voice has reclaimed the softness it'd shown him earlier—your searching gaze as well. You leave him with the truth, imparting it onto him like a mischievous secret.

"There's someone I'd like to ask out."

His stomach drops, and you leave him with the memory of lovelorn smile, forever imprinted behind his eyelids.

"I hope he says yes."

[3:00 PM] you: Alkaid, do you have any plans tonight?

[3:17 PM] alkaid: No, I'm free

[3:21 PM] alkaid: Did something happen?

[3:22 PM] you:

[3:22 PM] you: I haven't asked him out yet. Gonna do it soon

[3:23 PM] you: All of my other friends are busy rn.

[3:24 PM] you: Is it okay if I stop by after you close up shop?

[3:24 PM] you: I'd want to talk to someone about it

[4:31 PM] alkaid: Of course

SOMEHOW, ALKAID MANAGES TO GET through the rest of the day.

His heart is held together haphazardly with duct tape and carefully-placed staples, though their efforts are thwarted constantly by a popular refrain (You hardly know him. Of course there's someone else.), and he's one stubbed toe away from being reduced to tears, but he manages. Somehow.

He swallows down his what-ifs and maybes and waits, watching the hands on his wristwatch inch ever closer to six in the evening. And eventually, the vaguely promised time arrives.

As he's stepping out from behind the register, a familiar chime echoes cuts through the silence. Alkaid looks up and sees you, dressed still in red and black, your turtleneck and skirt swapped out for a knee-length dress.

"Hi."

The bouquet of white roses—held in both hands, a stark contrast to the black leather jacket you're wearing—covers up its neckline. You smile sheepishly at him, pulling at the mesh of your bright red skirt to mimic a curtsy.

You're beautiful. Even the flowers surrounding them pale in comparison. Even the aurora they'd seen together pales in comparison. You rob him of his breath and leave gasping for a reprieve, but so long as he keeps his memory in even the smallest capacity, that's simply impossible.

The familiar knife called jealousy stabs into his heart, leaving him keenly aware of his longing. He averts his gaze, but the damage has already been done. You are beautiful, and he has waited years to see you.

"Hi." Alkaid swallows uncomfortably, as the sound of your footsteps draws closer. In a panic, his hands brace themselves against the edge of the counter. "Was something wrong with the flowers? I thought—"

A mysterious expression sits upon your features when you pull his gaze onto you, seemingly oblivious to your magnetic power.

With a deep breath, you thrust the flowers at him, knuckles brushing against his chest. You pull back for a moment, taking your flowers with you, and the soft coral of your blush makes it difficult to discern whether you find yourself a victim the of same scarlet blooming across his cheeks.

"That's—" You cough politely. There's a heart-shaped pendant dangling from your golden necklace. The dress is either strapless or your jacket has covered up the straps. "—what I'm here to find out."

Alkaid tilts his head. His confused gaze darts across his surroundings and stops at the glass window of the store's display, thinking perhaps that your mystery boy might be outside. But while the streets are not barren, there is no one outside his store.

You say his name in the same way you told him your secret. Like it's something precious. Like it's something you love. And the truth begins to settle into his bones with a finality that deafens the half-coherent puzzle pieces he's been trying to fit together—he is the only one you could possibly ask out in this empty store.

He has no choice but to look back. At you, and the bouquet you're offering him.

"Would you like to go to the movies with me?"

AND THAT IS HOW HE finds himself with the beginnings of a bruise forming on his lip. He doesn't mind, not when the sting he feels as he wets his lip reminds him that this is not, in fact, a dream (It feels like it though, he thinks), nor a fantasy.

"You...you don't have a girlfriend, do you? It's been a while since then..."

You rub your arm lightly, muttering about something he can't understand, and what else is Alkaid meant to do but take your hand? He squeezes it gently, tickled to find that he can return the favor for all the times you've stolen his breath away.

Your lips part slightly, but whatever you hoped to say does not leave the confines of your mysterious mind. Instead, you draw some of your hair from both sides over your flushed cheeks.

"Nothing like that," he reassures, smiling gently at you. "I'm just surprised. I didn't realize you were talking about me."

"That's a reli—what." In a single moment, your voice goes from girlishly breathless to an irritated flat. Releasing your hair, you blink uncomprehendingly at him. "How?"

Watching you descend into another muttered ramble, Alkaid shrugs. "If you'd still like that date..."

You whip your head in his direction. "Then it's a date!"

The first time he met you, it was when you had fished out of the snow and offered him a warm drink to fight off the cold. They had talked about miscellaneous things, from your half-hearted desire to request a camera for your birthday to who could make the better model between them both.

And back then, he had thought to himself that there was no sound more beautiful than your laugh.

Almost four years after the fact, as he watches you giggle, Alkaid can confidently say his past self had the right idea. Such a specific title leaves him with room to declare your follow-up smile to be just as breathtaking.

[gnarlygoth]

faggot? more like fagHOT!!!

i love men

[birdinabowl]

This dude reeks of tranness and we need to acknowledge it more

[kalak]

They had to kill Owen and beru off early because if they found out that anakin became vader they would have beaten the shit out of him and ended the trilogy in 40 minutes

[zipstick]

did they just let james acaster wear his own clothes underneath his ghostbusters uniform

[larstudy]

So I said I'd make another post about my grades and all.

I had the results of another subject (it's like a specialization I took) which grade is a mean that contain

an exam I did (I talked about it in this post). It wasn't a hard exam as we were able to have our notes with us, etc. The only thing that made it kind of hard was the time (like we didn't have the time to find all the answers in our notes if we didn't know anything.)

an oral presentation I did that went really well!

At first I thought that it wasn't worth sharing it here (as it wasn't a difficult exam for me and all) but, since my parents don't care at all and aren't happy for me, I thought maybe some of those who supported me would be happy to know that I had a 18.45/20 (which is a reaaaaaaaaally great grade, "even for an easy test", as my bf said ahah)

Anyway I'm happy about it!! It won't erase the deception of my other grades (they're not on the same level as the other grades at all for me) but it's great knowing I'm able to have great grades sometimes :))

[garageinc]

Hi, welcome to my blog!!

Aight, i'll say few words about me.

Yall can call me Garage, i'm obsessed with Metallica rn, my favorite albums are Garage Inc.🤯, and St. Anger. I'll post some of my sketches with 'tallica here, so, yup it's an art blog. I guess. I think, i won't post very often but idk.

I'll interact from @garageinc-reblogs.

TW: VERY CRINGE SKETCHES, VERY CRINGE BLOGGER, VERY CRINGE EVERYTHING so like idk, enjoy?

Here's small anime Jason i drew few weeks ago:

And no, 'anime' isn't my artstyle, this was just a joke, but i like it.

Reference photo:

I just realize that i should add my tags, so here they are:

Drawings - #garage drawings

Doodles - #garage doodles

Doodles but drawn in school - #garage school doodles

Just me talkin' abt something - #garage rambling

All shitty art i post - #my art

Okay i decided to put more shit about me, so here we are:

Minor, introvert, so scared to interact with ppl but i really want to 😭😭, i hate arguing, i like doin' diy stuff, i play drums [i suck], im also obsessed with tf2 but i won't post abt this, i'm Polish, okay ngl i'm not that bad at english but i suck at grammar, i'm interested in criminal cases, i'm a metalhed and punk, i LOVE calling ppl that i fw 'losers'.

DNI IF YOU ARE:

Rasist

Homophobic

Transphobic

Nazi

Pedo

Idk what else should i add, i'll update sometimes.

and above all SEXIST [i fucking hate 'em]

[sardonic-the-writer]

current update on stuff i want to write: unfinished ghostbusters fic i started three days ago, abandoned self insert dsmp thing from over a year ago, next chapter of monsters & men, major rewrite of my raccooninnit fic from two years ago, and lars pinfield headcanons.

thoughts?

[cornerihaunt]

🥺🥺🥺🥺

[ad-hawkeye]

part two of lbc characters and tumblr text posts