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#letters to lars
yahoo201027 · 13 hours
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Day in Fandom History: April 30…
While still being in space with the Off Colors on his way to Earth, Lars receives letters from Steven to check up on what's going on over at Beach City during his absence, which includes finding Former Mayor Dewey a new job following his re-election loss. “Letters to Lars” premiered on this day, 6 Years Ago.
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I've been watching Steven Universe clips, and saw something, so it is time to nitpick for something they probably didn't mean to be looked at that closely. For fun.
Just look at Ronaldo's telescope. It is absolutely huge.
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It looks like it's based on a refractor telescope, but it's proportions are weird. It's shorter, like a reflector, but not enough to be a catadioptric.
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The star diagonal is accurate, but I wonder if it would be able to move enough to be useful, I don't know that much about focusers though.
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That's not how an equatorial mount works, or Ronaldo is using it wrong. This would probably tip over.
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Idk what they're going to achieve with the finderscope (aiming thing) all the way up there.
But the main thing is the size. These two circles are the same size, and going of what someone on the internet said, this telescope is maybe 1 meter across
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This is about the same as the largest refractor telescope in the world. You'd need a strong brightness limiting moon filter. Still not enough to see an actual building on the moon, but I can believe he'd find some cool stuff with that
Also, I want one
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nowhere-space · 2 years
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Edits from Season 5 Episode 16: Letters to Lars
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mintypsii · 1 month
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curiosity killed the cat ‼️ note to self: next time throw undelivered love letters into the sea
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asoftepiloguemylove · 10 months
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Vladimir Nabokov Letters to Vera / pinterest / @heavensghost WHAT IS LOVE IF NOT THE SHARING OF SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL? / Young Royals (2021-) cr. Lisa Ambjörn, Lars Beckung, Camilla Holter / Kiersten White The Chaos of Stars / Alida Moon / Blue (2002) dir. 安藤尋 Hiroshi Ando / Haruki Murakami Norwegian Wood
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renatogpadilla · 7 months
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Okay, but Charles Augustus Magnusen Milverton being more built up than Moriarty and somehow FEELING more like a threat genuinely caught me by surprise...
No wonder they got Mikkelsen to play him! He was a MENACE.
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saelique · 5 days
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cinnnaaa! hello!! how have you been? anything fun or exciting happening? sending you my love <33
AAHHH !! HAI HAI LAR !! >^< I JST !!! FINISHED DA LAST ART 4 DA FAIR I WAS TELLIN’ U GUYS ABT !! (*´꒳`*) ‘m actually s’ relived cause I managed 2 fin it b4 da deadline ! ٩( ᐛ )و
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chuuyrr · 6 days
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hi niki!! :> how’s your week going? <3 hopes it been great and that you’re treating yourself well <3 esp from uni >:( drink water and eat!! (you too niki’s readers)
hi lar (ㅅ´ ˘ `) thanks dropping by aaa i really missed the interactions for this blog :< i've been quite busy.. again but not too much as of late :o my onsite classes have been suspended due to the high index in my country so i'm able to get some sleep to say the least, small wins ⟡₊ ⊹
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my hot take for the day is that large print should be the default text size. normal size font will be renamed “pocket size” or smth and THAT will be the special section of the library rather than the other way around
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allmoshnobrain · 10 months
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FAN LETTER TO LARS ULRICH FROM JAPAN, 1993
Handwritten letter to Lars Ulrich signed Momo, Japan, 1993.
The letter describes handmade gifts of a small t-shirt and a Danish flag.
From the Collection of Lars Ulrich
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yahoo201027 · 1 year
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Day in Fandom History: April 30…
While still being in space with the Off Colors on his way to Earth, Lars receives letters from Steven to check up on what's going on over at Beach City during his absence, which includes finding Former Mayor Dewey a new job following his re-election loss. “Letters to Lars” premiered on this day, 5 Years Ago.
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byneddiedingo · 9 months
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Lillian Gish at MGM
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John Gilbert and Lillian Gish in La Bohème (King Vidor, 1926)
La Bohème (King Vidor, 1926)
Cast: Lillian Gish, John Gilbert, Renée Adorée, George Hassell, Roy D'Arcy, Edward Everett Horton, Karl Dane, Mathilde Comont, Gino Corrado, Eugene Pouyet. Screenplay: Frédérique De Grésac; titles: William M. Conselman, Ruth Cummings; based on a novel by Henri Murger and an opera libretto by Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa. Cinematography: Henrik Sartov. Art direction: Cedric Gibbons, A. Arnold Gillespie. Costume design: Erté. Film editing: Hugh Wynn.
Bohème without Puccini, except for a few themes from the opera interpolated into the piano accompaniment for some contemporary prints. The screenplay by Frédérique (billed as Fred) De Grésac is said to be "suggested by Life in the Latin Quarter" by Henri Murger, which is also the source of the opera libretto by Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa. But the librettists took liberties with Murger, combining several characters and incidents, that are copied in the movie, so it's pretty clear that De Grésac paid at least as much attention to the opera as he did to Murger. It's very much a vehicle for Lillian Gish, making her debut at MGM. She wanted John Gilbert to play Rodolphe to her Mimi, but sometimes seems to be playing an anything-you-can-do-I-can-do-better game with her co-star. There is, for example, a scene in which Gilbert acts out the proposed ending to the play he is writing, with much swashbuckling. Then, a few scenes later, Gish acts it out again with similar verve for a potential backer for the play. Their courtship is a surprisingly hyperactive one, particularly in the scene in which they and their fellow bohemians go on a picnic that involves much running about. And Gish is not content to die calmly: On hearing that she won't live through the night, she makes a mad dash across Paris to be reunited with her lover, at one point allowing herself to be dragged along the streets while hanging onto the back of a horse-cart. Gilbert poses with feet apart and arms akimbo much too often, and the starving bohemians are given to much dashing and dancing. (Among them is the endearing and enduring Edward Everett Horton as Colline.) It's all a bit too much, and I have a feeling that the print I saw shown at the wrong speed, giving it that herky-jerky quality we used to attribute to silent films before experts corrected the speed at which they should be projected. The costumes are by the celebrated designer Erté, who is said to have had so much trouble working with Gish that he gave up designing for Hollywood.
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Lars Hanson and Lillian Gish in The Scarlet Letter (Victor Sjöström, 1926)
The Scarlet Letter (Victor Sjöström, 1926)
Cast: Lillian Gish, Lars Hanson, Henry B. Walthall, Karl Dane, William H. Tooker, Marcelle Corday, Fred Herzog, Jules Cowles, Mary Hawes, Joyce Coad, James A. Marcus. Screenplay: Frances Marion, based on a novel by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Cinematography: Henrik Sartov. Art direction: Cedric Gibbons, Sidney Ullman. Film editing: Hugh Wynn.
I'm pretty sure that any high school students who think they can get by watching Frances Marion's adaptation of Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter instead of reading it are likely to be disappointed in English class. That said, no film version is going to reproduce the depth of characterization, the symbolic force, or the intellectual density of Hawthorne, so we should be grateful for what this one does give us: one of Lillian Gish's greatest performances. This was Gish's second film for MGM, after La Bohème, and it suggests that her talents were better suited to a contemplative director like Victor Sjöström -- or Seastrom, as MGM insisted on anglicizing his name -- than to King Vidor's more action-oriented style. If her Mimi in La Bohème was disturbingly hyperactive, her Hester Prynne is a marvel of understated acting. She uses her eyes and mouth and the tilt of her chin to convey a miraculous range of emotions, from stubbornness to fear, from strength to frailty. It's a pity that her Dimmesdale, Lars Hanson, doesn't match her in subtlety. He's more successful in this regard in their 1928 collaboration The Wind, which was also directed by Sjöström.
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nowhere-space · 2 years
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Steven Universe Season 5 Episode 16: Letters to Lars
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fourthstepnorth · 1 year
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tbh it was unreasonably cruel for the writers to have basically no one show up for jaime's improv show. like sadie didnt even come to see her mom??
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jaime deserves better
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feverinfeveroutfic · 1 year
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like blood from a stone | chapter thirty-four
(ao3 title: rockets and waterfalls)
I had led Lars outside to the back porch, which had been shrouded in shadow from the morning sun, and yet, I stood there with no clothes on over my body as if it was the middle of summer. We kept the box of donuts right next to us there on the small table right next to the back door, and I kept the ring on my pinky finger as safekeeping. Then again, I had no clue what to tell Alex once he and Chuck came back home later that day.
Then again, I was more concerned about the freshness of the donuts we had saved for him. He was going to be home at some point during the day, and those things only lasted for so long in the safety of that bright pink box.
Lars, meanwhile, seemed completely unfazed by everything as he took his spot there on the porch right next to me, and we indulged in our donuts for a bit.
When he finished, he licked his fingers and brushed his hands together as if he had just eaten at Buckingham Palace.
“You should dress for the wedding,” I told him as I licked some extra Boston cream off my lip.
“For their wedding? Absolutely. Kirk and I are ready to dress to the nines again for a great wedding with the two of them, wherever they choose to marry.”
I pictured them once again in those little suits that they wore at the chapel, and I wished we were back home in upstate New York, specifically around Niagara Falls, the unequivocal place to get married no less. If anything, I wondered why we weren’t packing up and heading out that way for a big getaway to those waterfalls because it felt so obvious to me.
“Also, I lost my letter to Chuck,” I confessed once I took my final bite of donut.
“Lost your letter?” Lars raised his eyebrows at that. “You wrote a letter to him?” I nodded, and then I swallowed the bite.
“I did, and somewhere along the way, I had lost it on the way over here from the school. I had dropped it somewhere in the streets. I had written it on this really nice stationery and everything.”
“Oh, man. That shit’s like losing a limb.”
“Yeah, for real!”
“While I am here, you ought to write a new one to him,” he suggested.
“You think so?”
“Yeah! You should find yourself a little piece of paper and a pen and get down to it. I don’t plan on being anywhere today, so I can help you with it if you would like.”
“That’s really sweet of you, Lars,” I said, to which he shrugged.
“Just trying to help a brother out,” he confessed, “especially since we’re all marrying one another lately.”
I drummed my fingers on the tabletop, and then I ducked into the house for a piece of paper and a pen from the kitchen. I scribbled the pen in the top corner to ensure it worked, and then, like the feeling of Niagara Falls itself, the words roared out of me.
I had taken my time on that nice stationery paper, but since this was cheap lined paper from the bottom of a trash drawer, I let it have it. I stood there and let my own heart guide the way.
Once I had signed my name at the bottom, I took it off the binding, and scurried back out to the table on the porch.
“Okay, how does this sound?” I cleared my throat and held it before my face.
“My dearest Chuck… I want to write these words out to you because I don’t know any other way otherwise. This is my second time writing a letter to you and I feel that I have lost a limb upon losing my initial letter. I can’t really recall everything that I wrote to you the first time around, but all I can tell you is this: you cannot get married. I want you, my prince, my king, my everything, all for me.
All of this as it emanates from the sour pain of my own broken heart and my own nauseated stomach to the point I cannot take it anymore. Trying to have you with me feels like a stone bleeding on the cold sand of the earth, in that I seem to feel as though I cannot have you. But I’m bleeding for you, Chuck. I am bleeding for you, through the breaks in my heart, all because hearts were meant to break and bleed. I yearn for the touch, the feel, the taste, all of it, and I simply cannot afford to remain silent or with good feelings towards your marriage to Alex.
I know that neither of you want to be married to one another, but that’s how the game is played with us. We bleed through the veins of the heart of the game, all because this is the life we chose. Between a rock and a hard place with all of us, and yet nothing can deny the sheer power of how we all feel about one another.
I need you to know, Chuck, and I need you to know these things should I die in my sleep tonight from my own heart. I need you to love me to death when I’ve gone to sleep because my heart can’t take any more shtick, all because I love you to death, especially once you’ve gone to sleep yourself.
Please keep in mind that I’m not out for Alex, although I do confess to sleeping with him before and during Lars and Kirk’s wedding. But rather I wish we could do as we please, even if it means slicing our own hearts out of the chest and letting them drain dry.
All the love in the world,
Joey
I set down the paper on my lap and turned to Lars, who gaped at me with his eyebrows raised and his hand upon his chest.
“What’d you think?” I asked him.
“Gruesome. Twisted. Tormented. But haunting. Absolutely haunting. I wish Kirk would be like that with me, that incessant pleading and begging for the feel of his heart and body right up next to me…” He ran his fingers through his smooth hair, and then he stopped for a second.
“Back up, you slept with Alex during the wedding?” he demanded, to which he stifled a chuckle and snorted. “How the fuck did you manage that?”
“During the reception, he and I got alone in the back hallway of the chapel and did it on the floor,” I explained in a single breath. “It was a bit difficult given he was achy from the first time I had fucked him silly but he seemed to enjoy it.”
Lars lowered his gaze to my chest and my stomach as I said that, and I wagged my finger at him.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but stop it,” I scolded him. “It’s bad enough I slept with Alex and caught Chuck with Cliff—” I clasped a hand to my mouth, and he gasped.
“WHAT!” His squeaky accent-laden voice raised itself into a big bold bellow which echoed over the backyard. I pursed my lips at that. I knew I had done too much and said so much more than I had originally intended, but I never intended for that one to slip out. Lars kept his hand in the table between us as he slid down in the seat of the chair: he pressed his chin to the top of his chest and closed his eyes.
“Shit, man,” I muttered.
“How did you find out about them?” he asked me in a muffled voice.
“I caught them—out on the street back in Santa Cruz. They didn’t see me, but, boy, I sure saw them, though. I can’t unsee them, or unhear them for that matter.”
Lars closed his eyes and slid further down inside the seat of his chair. For a second, I thought he was going to fall down onto the concrete before us, but he never did, however. He instead rested one hand upon the top of the table and his other hand on the rim of the seat, and he pushed himself up off the seat of the chair with a slight grunt under his breath. He leaned back in the chair itself and ran his fingers through his smooth hair once again.
“Is there something I should know about you and Cliff?” I asked him, to which he shook his head.
“Not really,” he replied, but something told me that he was hiding something from me right then. We all hid from each other and none of us were willing to admit to that under any circumstances whatsoever.
“By the way, when you said ‘don’t tell Cliff’, who were you referring to?” I asked him in a low voice, and he cleared his throat at that.
“Chuck himself, actually, oddly enough,” Lars replied with a straight face. I opened my mouth to say something when I caught the sound of tires on the other side of the house. They parked to a stop and as far as I knew, it was the mailman. But I couldn’t afford to take a chance on that, though.
With that, I stood up and folded the letter into thirds. I held onto it as if it was the precious jewel that had fallen clean off one of our crowns at some point.
“I’ll be right back,” I told him, and I ducked back into the house. It was undoubtedly the mailman as no sound emerged from the front of the house: I made my way up the stairs to Chuck’s bedroom, and on the way there, I passed Alex’s bedroom which still had the door slightly ajar. I needn’t afford to waste any further time as I continued on to the room next door.
Chuck had left the drapes drawn even while we were all down in Santa Cruz for a weekend, but the whole room remained slightly dimly lit and somewhat warm and cozy as I set the letter down on his pillow. I looked on at his narrow bed, at the other side where Alex was going to sleep at, or at least that was my thought. I held still with the letter on the pillow and my other hand upon the top blanket before me.
I was so close to him right then, and without him actually being there with me. I closed my eyes and bowed my head towards the pillow: it smelled of him, soft cologne and spicy incense and everything. I glanced across the pillow to the other side of the bed, and I pictured Alex parked there on the edge with his guitar plunked across his lap. Even with the small sliver of sunlight through the parting in the curtains for the softest room in the whole entire house, the image I saw was not happy: Alex had his head bowed to hide the look on his face, whereas Chuck lay there on the spot before me with a vacant look upon his face.
A part of me wanted to put the letter on the nightstand so it would be the first thing he would see once he walked into the room, but I knew that he would miss it in there. Though the wedding wasn’t for another few days, something told me that he would have to hide it from Alex once he moved into that room with him the night afterwards.
“I have to put this on his pillow,” I declared to myself. I lifted my hand and the letter lay there upon the pillow case, the poor man’s Dear John, but it had to be done, however.
I let out a low whistle and made my way back out to the hallway: the house once again remained silent around me. I stood before Alex’s bedroom door for a peek inside, and then I looked down at the ring on my finger. I had no clue who it belonged to, but I felt a little wary to figure it out for myself. I peeked through the crack in the door to the dark bedroom behind there, and then I wondered if this would be my room once Chuck and Alex were married. Alex would move out of that room and into Chuck’s bedroom, which in turn leave that room vacant.
I could move in from there…
I doubled back to Chuck’s room for the letter. Second time around, but this time was not going to be the least bit worth it, however. I held the folded letter with two hands and tore it in two.
I was a greedy bastard, but then again, I had no way back home at the moment. I needed a proper room to stay in for the time being. 
Chuck would have to learn about my feelings some other time.
I returned to the kitchen downstairs to toss the letter in the garbage, and then I made my way back outside to Lars, who still had the distant look in his face as if he had just seen life itself crumble at the seams before him. He raised his head to me as I stood there in the doorway next to him.
“Okay, so… what do you want to do now?” I asked him, and he gazed out to the grassy backyard before us.
“Go over to the water’s edge?” he offered me.
“I’m not dressed, though,” I pointed out with a gesture to my body. “And remember—” I gestured to my chest, and he nodded his head.
“Oh, yeah, that’s right, crossdressing isn’t really allowed. Uh… it’s a bit of a drive but you wanna go up to Wine Country?”
“I’m not really a drinker, though,” I said.
“No, no, it’s okay. There’s a bunch of stuff to do up there. I can find you some clothes, too.”
I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed through my nose. All the while, my heart remained on the down low with its incessant pounding in my chest. The donut helped tithe me over for the time being, but I knew I would have to follow it up somewhere down the line.
“Just pray that James doesn’t see us up there, either,” Lars said.
“Why is that?”
“Did you see him at the wedding at all?”
I shook my head. “No. Why?”
“He actively refused to come to the wedding,” he confessed.
“Why,” I repeated, that time in a flat tone of voice.
“He doesn’t approve of our marriage, or of the arrangement for that matter.”
“Like how… I don’t approve of Chuck and Alex’s marriage,” I followed along, and my voice slid down to a near whisper.
“In principle, yeah, but—at least the three of you came to the whole occasion.”
He showed me the thoughtful look on his face. Suddenly, Alex sneaking around made a lot more sense to me.
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skyriderwednesday · 1 year
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The plot thickens?
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