Ok Frost Iâm only halfway through Andor rn BUT I am already getting ready to update my Star Wars Soundtrack Top Hits playlist after I finish it so I gotta knowâ what are your faves from the soundtrack I should definitely have on there?
you are so sexy for asking this Sabrina thank you. Nicholas Birtell is a madman for this soundtrack.
in no particular order:
Past/Present Suite
Pilgrim
Climb!
The Cassian Way
Niamos! (there are several mixes of this one and theyâre all bangers)
Heroes
My Name is Kino Loy
Your Mother is Dead
Clemâs Stone
Manifesto
Forming Up/Unto Stone We Are
Cassian Will Find Us
Kill Me
every episode opening has a different theme, and i highly recommend all of them.
volume 3 of the ost kind of wins, honestly. also the music from the finale all goes so hard it had no right.
i know thatâs too many but i couldnât pare it down anymore than that. hope this helps love!
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Author: elizaham8957/ stilesssolo
Rating: Mature
Fandoms: Game of Thrones (TV)
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Characters: Jon Snow, Daenerys Targaryen, Rhaegar Targaryen, Margaery Tyrell, Robb Stark
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, werewolf!Jon, and hunter!dany, itâs a teen wolf au okay because I am TRASH, high school setting, First Love, Angst, Fluff and Angst, I suppose, the major character death is NOT JONERYS, who do I look like d&d???, Jonerys Remix 2020
donât you ever tame your demons
SUMMARY: âIt must be a serial killer,â someone whispers in her history class. Sort of right, Dany thinks. âWhat other kind of person would be psycho enough to murder a bunch of people and then tear their bodies up?âÂ
Someone whoâs not really a person, she thinks. Gods, itâs almost sad how uninformed the people of Winterfell are.Â
Theyâve gone and made the school mascot a direwolf, their town is on the edge of the Wolfswood, and still no one seems to realize that there are werewolves lurking in their small town.Â
People are closed minded, she supposes. Most of them donât even realize the supernatural world exists. And thatâs their first mistake.Â
Iâve talked about this THREE times in the past week, why are all my friends running on the same wavelength? đ This is always a hard question for me, since I really donât look for myself in characters, for some reason. I guess I identify most with Merlin from the BBC seriesâsnarky, quiet but mouthy, secretive (but not good at it) only trustful of a few people irl, and fiercely protective.
H: How would you describe your style?
Hmm, I feel like this depends on what part of a fic Iâm writing. When Iâm describing a setting, the backdrop for a scene, Iâm incredibly minimalist. I hate describing rooms and surroundings and worlds (thatâs why writing my Star Wars AU has been so hard!) so I spend as little time as possible on that. Emotions and introspection, on the other hand, is the driving motivation behind anything I write. Those parts tend to be long and floweryâI wouldnât go so far as saying poetic, but theyâre pretty rambly.
L: Whatâs the weirdest AU youâve ever come up with?
I canât think of any AU thatâs super weird, but Iâve come up with some for very, very strange reasons.
For instance, my Teen Wolf AU Cold Bones came into being because I had the image of Lydia lying on the floor burned into my brain. Then it turned into an almost dystopian story where I killed nearly every Teen Wolf character? Just because I could.
Then for SPN, I always wanted to write wingfics, but I could never bring myself to do it in the canon âverse, it would seem too weird. So I ended up constructing an AU in which Jack was raised in a lab with manifested wingsâall because I wanted a SamJack wingfic. (I havenât actually posted or even written this yet)
M: Got any premises on the back burner that youâd care to share?
Good lord, my back burner is so cluttered (and also on fire)
Iâve been chewing on a Stydia college fic with deaf!Lydia for over a year now.
I donât care how dead The Originals fandom is, Iâm still writing for it. I want to write a Klope AU that fixes that pesky time-jump between seasons 4 and 5. Iâm also developing a modern AU with the Mikaelsons as foster kids.
And all my friends already know about the SPN/Star Wars AU that Iâve been writing for the past...8 months or so? That one Iâm actively working on, but Iâm 40k in with no end in sight! đ
P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an âarchitectâ or a âgardenerâ? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)
Iâm VERY much a planner! I had to map out the entire Star Wars AU until I could start writing any of it. Even now, I wonât write a scene without mapping it out in detail.
The ONE exception to this is my TO fic Entre Tus Alas, which barely counts since itâs so short. But I planned the story with no plot twists, and one just naturally occurred to me as I wrote it. Thatâs the only time something unplanned has happened in my story and itâs actually worked. All those posts about writers not being able to control their characters? I canât relateâcharacters in my fics are on a very tight leash!
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Tessa gets momentarily distracted as her eyes linger on his forearms, the muscles contracting as he presses his hands together in front of his mouth.
Hold
He wraps his hands tightly around her waist again and she tries to hold in her gasp but itâs falling from her mouth anyway. âSo you like that,â he says to himself smugly.
âDad, this is the third chipotle youâve passed!â Stiles yelps, smacking his hand against the window of the cruiser. His father ignores his bleat of protest with a mere glance in Stilesâ direction, speeding past the restaurant and towards Beacon Hills. Stiles sighs, slumping against his seat dejectedly.
âAnd I told you the first time,â his father replies patiently, âthat I have dinner for us at home.â
âBut I havenât had chipotle since August!â protests Stiles in a last ditch attempt to convince his dad to turn around.
âI know for a fact they have Chipotle in D.C., kiddo,â says the sheriff. âYouâre gonna have to try another tactic.â
âWere you this stubborn when I left for college?â
âYes,â his dad says firmly.
Stiles grumbles under his breath, finally giving up in favor of staring at the palm trees outside his window. The flight from D.C. to California always feels much longer than it is, probably because heâs so desperate to get off the plane. Beacon Hills is by no means his favorite town in the world, but itâs still his favorite place to be. Itâs where his real bed is, where Scott is, and itâs the place where he knows the streets so well, itâs almost like heâd paved them himself.
Plus, itâs Christmas, and while Stiles hates the fact that California doesnât have snow, he much prefers their weather to the cold. The further away he is from freezing, the better.
They pass Scottâs street, and Stiles looks wistfully down the road to where he knows his best friend is. Scottâs been back for a week, and Stiles itches to drive over and hunker down in their favorite bean bag chairs, play video games, and talk about nothing. Theyâre nineteen-years-old, but some things never change, and Stiles knows that for him and Scott, stuffing their faces with cheese puffs is going to be one of those things.
But moments later, theyâre turning down Woodbine Lane, and then theyâre in front  of the house and suddenly Stiles doesnât miss Chipotle or Chick Fil A or In âN Out. Everything is exactly as it was when he left in August, but somehow, having been gone for so many months, heâs filled with a love for this house that he hadnât felt since his mom died.
So much had happened in this house, and around this house, and because of this house. God, heâs glad to be home.
âHome sweet home,â Stiles says as his dad unlocks the door.
âGo put your suitcase down in your room,â his dad instructs. âIâll call you when dinnerâs warm, okay?â
âSure,â Stiles says easily, and he only knocks into the wall a few times as he drags the suitcase to his room, which Stiles would consider to be a victory.
His room is exactly how he left itâ bed unmade, desk a mess, sunglasses placed on the chair where heâd accidentally forgotten them when heâd left for school. Stiles leaves his suitcase by the door, kicking it to ensure that it knows his place, and then reaches into his messenger bag to pull out his phone charger.
Thatâs when he hears the small, emphatic coughing noise from his bed.
If he knew the voice any less intimately, maybe he would have jumped. But as it is, Stiles simply stills for a moment, testing his own mind, trying to figure out if he had imagined it. Finally deciding that itâs at least worth an investigation, Stiles turns around to see if maybe, just maybe, Lydia Martin is in his bed.
She stands up when he turns around, rising from the bed slowly, like sheâs letting him adjust to the idea of her presence.
âWhoa,â he says, blinking three times. âAre you why my dad didnât let me stop for Chipotle?â
Lydia rushes to him, wrapping her arms around her neck as she presses her mouth against his. Heâd forgotten, Stiles thinks, how much he loves kissing her. Heâd known, at least intellectually, that he loves kissing Lydia Martin. But the reality of it is flushed in color, in heartbeats, in the flutter of her tongue against his and the taste of remembering what she tastes like in the first place. He lifts her off the ground without thinking, hands on her ass as she winds her legs around his hips, and she groans into his mouth in response.
âI keep forgetting how strong you get during school,â Lydia sighs, tossing her hair over her shoulder so that itâs out of their way. âRemind me some more.â
Stiles chuckles, purposefully kissing the side of her mouth, getting half of her cheek. Itâs goofy, and affectionate, and it makes her smirk, digging his fingers into his hair and wiggling herself over his cock.
âGod, not fair,â he mutters hotly against her neck.
ââFairâ when out the window when you picked me up,â Lydia says, tilting her head for him. âThat was not fair.â
The way she emphasizes her words makes her tongue linger on the roof of her mouth, and Stiles huffs low in his chest, knowing what it feels like to have that same tongue tracing his lips, the shell of his ear, his neck, his hip bones, his dick.
They fall onto the bed with a loud clamor and a surprised shriek from Lydia, who throws her head back and laughs. She winds her legs around him again, pulling him down on top of her, and Stiles canât help but slide his hand up her sweater, feeling the warmth of her stomach against the palm of his hand.
Conveniently, thereâs a suddenly loud clamor from the kitchen that causes both of them to startle. They pause, staring at each other in concern, waiting to see if Stilesâ dad enters the room. When he doesnât, Lydia relaxes into the sheets, and Stiles lowers his lips to hers again, trying to keep the urgency out of his kisses.
âHowâd your finals go?â he asked, mouth smushed against hers.
âMmph, good, Iââ She trails off when his hand finds the material of her bra, squeezing lightly, relearning what it feels like in his hand. ââŠwhat were we talking about?â
âYour classes,â says Stiles, scraping her neck with his teeth. âYou were about to say a bunch of words I only half-understand.â
He shudders as he feels Lydiaâs foot slide up the back of his leg, her hands sliding inside of his jeans and his boxers.
âWeâve been talking every night for the past two months,â she murmurs. âIâm momentarily sick of talking to my boyfriend. I think heâd better do something else with his mouth.â
Stiles moans, heart quickening at the idea of what he could do to her. He could suck on her tits; draw her nipples into his mouth and lave at them like heâs been wanting to do all semester. He could kiss her until theyâre both weak in the knees. He could fuck his tongue into her and watch her melt against the sheets above him; fall apart on his tongue. Or he couldâ
âDinnerâs ready!â his dad yells, pulling him back to reality. âGet out here, kids!ââ
âOh.â Lydiaâs disappointment is evident even in that one word.
âYeah, my dadâs here.â
âYou forgot too?â
âWe havenât had sex in two months. Of course I forgot.â
She kisses him, chaste this time.
âAfter dinner, then?â
Stiles sighs in exaggerated dreaminess, flopping onto his back.
âIâm gonna give you the best one minute and forty seven seconds of your life, Lydia Martin.â
âA tall order,â she teases. âAnd oddly specific.â
âIâm a detail-oriented person,â he explains. âYou may have heard that, once or twice.â
âIt was on your resume when you applied for the position of âboyfriend.ââ
He groans at the word âposition.â
âSpeaking of whichââ
âWe can spend those however you want to. But I have to warn you that I will probably need one minute and fifty two seconds, so youâd better work your ass off to make up for the disparity.â
âYou know Iâd do anything for you.â He grins, sweeping some hair away from her face. âGod, I missed you so much.â
âI missed you too,â she replies serenely, eyes skidding back and forth across his face like sheâs trying to take everything in.
âIt didnât occur to you to tell me that youâd be in my room when I got home when we were talking last night?â
âYou were packing. And sleepy. I didnât want you to getâŠ. distracted.â
âI mean, thatâs a cute thought, but you know youâre basically distracting me twenty-four hours of the day, seven days a week regardless. What was it really?â
Lydia shrugs, expression thoughtful as she gazes up at him.
âI donât know. I guess maybe⊠I know itâs something you would do for me. So I wanted to do it for you too.â
âOh,â he says, suddenly just as knocked-off balance as he was when sheâd first shown up in his bedroom. Lydia doesnât say anything, just keeps looking at him, and then he has to kiss her, heâs got no choice.
âSTILES!â hollers his dad from the kitchen, sounding twice as irked as he had the first time, and the two of them part guiltily mid-kiss.
âThe jeep. After dinner,â Lydia promises, with a seriousness that would imply theyâre about to go on a secret mission.
âOkay.â He gets out of bed, then helps her up too, hand on her back as he guides her through the door frame. âBut in the meantime, get ready for a round of under-the-table-footsies thatâs gonna rock your world.â
Hi! So I feel like I saw a while ago that you went and saw Amelie, and I was just wonderingâ what did you think of it? I'm going to NYC this weekend with my family and we're trying to pick a show to get rush tickets to. I saw Pippa last summer in Hamilton so I know she'll be amazing, but what did you think of the music/ plot/ show in general? (Also if I'm wrong and you didn't see it please feel free to ignore this lol) Thanks!! :)
OH MY GOD Iâm so so so so so so sorry I never answered this! FUUUUUCKCKKKKK FUCK FUCK my inbox is the worst and so am I.Â
For the record, i thought the show was adorable but that it had pacing problems. I went to see it in LA and it felt incredibly top-heavy to me. Also pretty isolating to audiences that werenât #musicaltheatretrash, music-wise. Itâs very New Age Broadway.Â
But I loved the characters, the humor, the story, and the imagination that went into the show. it really captured the magic.Â
(And they might have changed the pacing problems since they went to Broadway.)Â